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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kennedy Square, by F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+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: Kennedy Square
+
+Author: F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+Release Date: December, 2003 [Etext #4746]
+Posting Date: January 6, 2010
+Last Updated: March 8, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KENNEDY SQUARE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Duncan Harrod
+
+
+
+
+
+KENNEDY SQUARE
+
+By F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+
+
+
+Author's Preface:
+
+“Kennedy Square, in the late fifties, was a place of birds and trees and
+flowers; of rude stone benches, sagging arbors smothered in vines, and
+cool dirt paths bordered by sweet-smelling box. Giant magnolias filled
+the air with their fragrance, and climbing roses played hide-and-seek
+among the railings of the rotting fence. Along the shaded walks laughing
+boys and girls romped all day, with hoop and ball, attended by old black
+mammies in white aprons and gayly colored bandannas; while in the more
+secluded corners, sheltered by protecting shrubs, happy lovers sat and
+talked, tired wayfarers rested with hats off, and staid old gentlemen
+read by the hour, their noses in their books.
+
+“Outside of all this color, perfume, and old-time charm; outside the
+grass-line and the rickety wooden fence that framed them in, ran an
+uneven pavement splashed with cool shadows and stained with green mould.
+Here, in summer, the watermelon man stopped his cart; and there, in
+winter, upon its broken bricks, old Moses unhooked his bucket of oysters
+and ceased for a moment his droning call.
+
+“On the shady side of the square, and half hidden in ivy, was a Noah's
+Ark church, topped by a quaint belfry holding a bell that had not rung
+for years, and faced by a clock-dial all weather-stains and cracks,
+around which travelled a single rusty hand. In its shadow to the right
+lay the home of the archdeacon, a stately mansion with Corinthian
+columns reaching to the roof and surrounded by a spacious garden filled
+with damask roses and bushes of sweet syringa. To the left crouched
+a row of dingy houses built of brick, their iron balconies hung in
+flowering vines, the windows glistening with panes of wavy glass purpled
+by age.
+
+“On the sunny side of the square, opposite the church, were more houses,
+high and low: one all garden, filled with broken-nosed statues hiding
+behind still more magnolias; and another all veranda and honeysuckle,
+big rocking-chairs and swinging hammocks; and still others with porticos
+curtained by white jasmine or Virginia creeper.”--From “The Fortunes of
+Oliver Horn.”
+
+
+
+
+
+KENNEDY SQUARE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+
+On the precise day on which this story opens--some sixty or more years
+ago, to be exact--a bullet-headed, merry-eyed, mahogany-colored young
+darky stood on the top step of an old-fashioned, high-stoop house,
+craning his head up and down and across Kennedy Square in the effort to
+get the first glimpse of his master, St. George Wilmot Temple, attorney
+and counsellor-at-law, who was expected home from a ducking trip down
+the bay.
+
+Whether it was the need of this very diet, or whether St. George had
+felt a sudden longing for the out-of-doors, is a matter of doubt, but
+certain it is that some weeks before the very best shot in the county
+had betaken himself to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, accompanied by
+his guns, his four dogs, and two or three choice men of fashion--young
+bloods of the time--men with whom we shall become better acquainted as
+these chronicles go on--there to search for the toothsome and elusive
+canvas-back for which his State was famous.
+
+That the darky was without a hat and in his shirt-sleeves, and it
+winter--the middle of January, really--the only warm thing about him
+being the green baize apron tied about his waist, his customary livery
+when attending to his morning duties--did not trouble him in the least.
+Marse George might come any minute, and he wanted to be the first to
+welcome him.
+
+For the past few weeks Todd had had the house to himself. Coal-black
+Aunt Jemima, with her knotted pig-tails, capacious bosom, and unconfined
+waist, forty years his senior and ten shades darker in color, it is
+true, looked after the pots and pans, to say nothing of a particular
+spit on which her master's joints and game were roasted; but the upper
+part of the house, which covered the drawing-room, dining-room, bedroom,
+and dressing-room in the rear, as well as the outside of the dwelling,
+including even the green-painted front door and the slant of white
+marble steps that dropped to the brick sidewalk, were the especial
+property of the chocolate-colored darky.
+
+To these duties was added the exclusive care of the master himself--a
+care which gave the boy the keenest delight, and which embraced every
+service from the drawing off of St. George Wilmot Temple's boots to the
+shortening of that gentleman's slightly gray hair; the supervision of
+his linen, clothes, and table, with such side issues as the custody of
+his well-stocked cellar, to say nothing of the compounding of various
+combinations, sweet, sour, and strong, the betrayal of whose secrets
+would have cost the darky his place.
+
+“Place” is the word, for Todd was not St. George's slave, but the
+property of a well-born, if slightly impoverished, gentleman who lived
+on the Eastern Shore, and whose chief source of income was the hiring
+out to his friends and acquaintances of just such likely young darkies
+as Todd--a custom common to the impecunious of those days.
+
+As Mr. Temple, however, did not come under either one of the
+above-mentioned classes--the “slightly impoverished gentleman” never
+having laid eyes on him in his life--the negotiations had to be
+conducted with a certain formality. Todd had therefore, on his arrival,
+unpinned from the inside of his jacket a portentous document signed
+with his owner's name and sealed with a red wafer, which after such
+felicitous phrases as--“I have the distinguished honor,” etc.--gave the
+boy's age (21), weight (140 pounds), and height (5 feet 10 inches)--all
+valuable data for identification in case the chattel conceived a notion
+of moving further north (an unnecessary precaution in Todd's case).
+To this was added the further information that the boy had been raised
+under his master's heels, that he therefore knew his pedigree, and that
+his sole and only reason for sparing him from his own immediate service
+was his own poverty and the fact that while under St. George's care the
+boy could learn how “to wait on quality.”
+
+As to the house itself--the “Temple Mansion,” as it was called--that
+was as much a part of Kennedy Square as the giant magnolias gracing the
+park, or the Noah's Ark church, with its quaint belfry and cracked bell,
+which faced its shady walks. Nobody, of course, remembered how long it
+had been built--that is, nobody then alive--I mean the very date. Such
+authorities as Major Clayton were positive that the bricks had been
+brought from Holland; while Richard Horn, the rising young scientist,
+was sure that all the iron and brass work outside were the product of
+Sheffield; but in what year they had all been put together had always
+been a disputed question.
+
+That, however, which was certain and beyond doubt, was that St. George's
+father, old General Dorsey Temple, had purchased the property near the
+close of the preceding century; that he had, with his characteristic
+vehemence, pushed up the roof, thrust in two dormer windows, and smashed
+out the rear wall, thus enlarging the dining-room and giving increased
+space for a glass-covered porch ending in a broad flight of wooden steps
+descending to a rose-garden surrounded by a high brick wall; that thus
+encouraged he had widened the fireplaces, wainscoted the hall, built a
+new mahogany spider-web staircase leading to his library on the second
+floor, and had otherwise disported himself after the manner of a man
+who, having suddenly fallen heir to a big pot of money, had ever after
+continued oblivious to the fact that the more holes he punched in
+its bottom the less water would spill over its top. The alterations
+complete, balls, routs, and dinners followed to such distinguished
+people as Count Rochambeau, the Marquis de Castellux, Marquis de
+Lafayette, and other high dignitaries, coming-of-age parties for the
+young bloods--quite English in his tastes was the old gentleman--not
+to mention many other extravagances which were still discussed by the
+gossips of the day.
+
+With the general's death--it had occurred some twenty years before--the
+expected had happened. Not only was the pot nearly empty, but the
+various drains which it had sustained had so undermined the family
+rent-roll that an equally disastrous effect had been produced on the
+mansion itself (one of the few pieces of property, by the way, that
+the father had left to his only son and heir unencumbered, with the
+exception of a suit in chancery from which nobody ever expected a
+penny), the only dry spots in St. George's finances being the few ground
+rents remaining from his grandmother's legacy and the little he could
+pick up at the law.
+
+It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that certain changes and
+deteriorations had taken place inside and out of the historic
+building--changes which never in the slightest degree affected the
+even-tempered St. George, who had retained his own private apartments
+regardless of the rest of the house--but changes which, in all justice
+to the irascible old spendthrift, would have lifted that gentleman out
+of his grave could he have realized their effect and extent. What a
+shock, for instance, would the most punctilious man of his time have
+received when he found his front basement rented for a law office, to
+say nothing of a disreputable tin sign nailed to a shutter--where in
+the olden time he and his cronies had toasted their shins before blazing
+logs, the toddies kept hot on the hearth! And what a row would he have
+raised had he known that the rose-garden was entirely neglected and
+given over to the dogs and their kennels; the library in the second
+story stripped of its books and turned into a guest-chamber, and the
+books themselves consigned to the basement; the oak-panelled dining-room
+transformed into a bedchamber for St. George, and the white-and-gold
+drawing-room fronting the street reduced to a mere living-room where his
+son and heir made merry with his friends! And then the shrinkages all
+about! When a room could be dispensed with, it was locked up. When a
+shingle broke loose, it stayed loose; and so did the bricks capping the
+chimneys, and the leaky rain-spouts that spattered the dingy bricks, as
+well as the cracks and crannies that marred the ceilings and walls.
+
+And yet so great was Todd's care over the outside fittings of the
+house--details which were necessarily in evidence, and which determined
+at a glance the quality of the folks inside--that these several
+crumblings, shake-downs, and shrinkages were seldom noticed by the
+passer-by. The old adage that a well-brushed hat, a clean collar,
+polished shoes, and immaculate gloves--all terminal details--make
+the well-dressed man, no matter how shabby or how ill-fitting his
+intermediate apparel, applied, according to Todd's standards, to houses
+as well as Brummels. He it was who soused the windows of purple glass,
+polished the brass knobs, rubbed bright the brass knocker and brass
+balls at the top and bottom of the delightful iron railings, to say
+nothing of the white marble steps, which he attacked with a slab of
+sandstone and cake of fuller's-earth, bringing them to so high a state
+of perfection that one wanted to apologize for stepping on them. Thus
+it was that the weather-beaten rainspouts, stained bricks, sagging roof,
+and blistered window-sashes were no longer in evidence. Indeed, their
+very shabbiness so enhanced the brilliancy of Todd's handiwork that the
+most casual passers-by were convinced at a glance that gentlefolk lived
+within.
+
+
+On this particular morning, then, Todd had spent most of the time since
+daylight--it was now eight o'clock--in the effort to descry his master
+making his way along the street, either afoot or by some conveyance, his
+eyes dancing, his ears alert as a rabbit's, his restless feet marking
+the limit of his eagerness. In his impatience he had practised every
+step known to darkydom in single and double shuffle; had patted juba on
+one and both knees, keeping time with his heels to the rhythm; had slid
+down and climbed up the railings a dozen times, his eyes on the turn in
+the street, and had otherwise conducted himself as would any other boy,
+black or white, who was at his wits' end to know what to do with the
+next second of his time.
+
+Aunt Jemima had listened to the racket until she had lost all patience,
+and at last threw up the basement window:
+
+“Go in an' shet dat do'--'fo' I come up dar an' smack ye--'nough ter
+make a body deef ter hear ye,” she called, her black shining face
+dividing the curtains. “How you know he's a-comin'?”
+
+Todd leaned over the railing and peered down: “Mister Harry Rutter done
+tol' me--said dey all 's a-comin'--de jedge an' Doctor Teackle an'
+Marse George an' de hull kit an' bilin'. Dey's been gone mos' two weeks
+now,--dey's a-comin' I tell ye--be yere any minute.”
+
+“I b'liebe dat when I sees it. Fool nigger like you b'liebe anything.
+You better go inside 'fo' you catch yo' dea'f. I gin ye fair warnin'
+right now dat I ain't gwineter nuss ye,--d'ye yere?--standin' out dar
+like a tarr-pin wid yo' haid out. Go in I tell ye!” and she shut the
+window with a bang and made her way to the kitchen.
+
+Todd kept up his double shuffle with everything going--hands, feet,
+and knees--thrashed his arms about his chest and back to keep up the
+circulation and with a final grimace in the direction of the old cook
+maintained his watch.
+
+“I spec's it's de fog dat's kep' 'em,” he muttered anxiously, his feet
+still in action. “Dat bay boat's mos' allus late,--can't tell when
+she'll git in. Only las' week--Golly!--dar he is--DAT'S HIM!”
+
+A mud-bespattered gig was swinging around the corner into the Square,
+and with a swerve in its course was heading to where Todd stood.
+
+The boy sprang down the steps:
+
+“Yere he is, Aunt Jemima!” he shouted, as if the old cook could have
+heard him through three brick walls.
+
+The gig came to a stand-still and began to unload: first the dogs, who
+had been stowed under their master's feet since they left the steamboat
+wharf, and who with a clear bound to the sidewalk began scouring in mad
+circles, one after another, up and down Todd's immaculate steps, the
+four in full cry until the entire neighborhood was aroused, the late
+sleepers turning over with the remark--“Temple's at home,” and the early
+risers sticking their heads out of the windows to count the ducks as
+they were passed out. Next the master: One shapely leg encased in
+an English-made ducking boot, then its mate, until the whole of his
+handsome, well-knit, perfectly healthy and perfectly delightful body was
+clear of the cramped conveyance.
+
+“Hello, Todd!” he burst out, his face aglow with his drive from the
+boat-landing--“glad to see you! Here, take hold of these guns---easy
+now, they won't hurt you; one at a time, you lunkhead! And now pull
+those ducks from under the seat. How's Aunt Jemima?--Oh, is that
+you aunty?” She had come on the run as soon as she heard the dogs.
+“Everything all right, aunty--howdy--” and he shook her hand heartily.
+
+The old woman had made a feint to pull her sleeves down over her plump
+black arms and then, begrudging the delay, had grasped his outstretched
+hand, her face in a broad grin.
+
+“Yes, sah, dat's me. Clar' to goodness, Marse George, I's glad ter
+git ye home. Lawd-a-massy, see dem ducks! Purty fat, ain't dey, sah?
+My!--dat pair's jes' a-bustin'! G'long you fool nigger an' let me hab
+'em! G'way f'om dere I tell ye!”
+
+“No,--you pick them up, Todd--they're too heavy for you, aunty. You go
+back to your kitchen and hurry up breakfast--waffles, remember,--and
+some corn pone and a scallop shell or two--I'm as hungry as a bear.”
+
+The whole party were mounting the steps now, St. George carrying the
+guns, Todd loaded down with the game--ten brace of canvas-backs and
+redheads strung together by their bills--the driver of the gig following
+with the master's big ducking overcoat and smaller traps--the four dogs
+crowding up trying to nose past for a dash into the wide hall as soon as
+Todd opened the door.
+
+“Anybody been here lately, Todd?” his master asked, stopping for a
+moment to get a better grip of his heaviest duck gun.
+
+“Ain't nobody been yere partic'ler 'cept Mister Harry Rutter. Dey alls
+knowed you was away. Been yere mos' ev'ry day--come ag'in yisterday.”
+
+“Mr. Rutter been here!--Well, what did he want?”
+
+“Dunno, sah,--didn't say. Seemed consid'ble shook up when he foun' you
+warn't to home. I done tol' him you might be back to-day an' den ag'in
+you mightn't--'pended on de way de ducks was flyin'. Spec' he'll be
+roun' ag'in purty soon--seemed ter hab sumpin' on his min'. I'll tu'n de
+knob, sah. Yere--git down, you imp o' darkness,--you Floe!--you Dandy!
+Drat dem dogs!--Yere, YERE!” but all four dogs were inside now, making
+a sweepstakes of the living-room, the rugs and cushions flying in every
+direction.
+
+Although Todd had spent most of the minutes since daylight peering up
+and down the Square, eager for the first sight of the man whom he loved
+with an idolatry only to be found in the negro for a white man whom he
+respects, and who is kind to him, he had not neglected any of his other
+duties. There was a roaring wood fire behind brass andirons and fender.
+There was a breakfast table set for two--St. George's invariable custom.
+“Somebody might drop in, you know, Todd.” There was a big easy-chair
+moved up within warming distance of the cheery blaze; there were pipes
+and tobacco within reach of the master's hand; there was the
+weekly newspaper folded neatly on the mantel, and a tray holding an
+old-fashioned squat decanter and the necessary glasses--in fact, all
+the comforts possible and necessary for a man who having at twenty-five
+given up all hope of wedded life, found himself at fifty becoming
+accustomed to its loss.
+
+St. George seized the nearest dog by the collar, cuffed him into
+obedience as an example to the others, ordered the four to the hearth
+rug, ran his eye along the mantel to see what letters had arrived in his
+absence, and disappeared into his bedroom. From thence he emerged
+half an hour later attired in the costume of the day--a jaunty
+brown velveteen jacket, loose red scarf, speckled white
+waistcoat--single-breasted and of his own pattern and cut--dove-gray
+trousers, and white gaiters. No town clothes for St. George as long as
+his measure was in London and his friends were good enough to bring
+him a trunk full every year or two. “Well-cut garments may not make
+a gentleman,” he would often say to the youngsters about him, “but
+slip-shod clothes can spoil one.”
+
+He had drawn up to the table now, Todd in white jacket hovering about
+him, bringing relays of waffles, hot coffee, and more particularly the
+first of a series of great scallop-shells filled with oysters which he
+had placed on the well-brushed hearth to keep hot while his master was
+dressing.
+
+Fifty he was by the almanac, and by the old family Bible as well, and
+yet he did not look it. Six feet and an inch; straight, ruddy-checked,
+broad-shouldered, well-rounded, but with his waist measure still under
+control; slightly gray at the temples, with clean-shaven face, laughing
+eyes, white teeth, and finely moulded nose, brow, and chin, he was
+everything his friends claimed--the perfect embodiment of all that was
+best in his class and station, and of all that his blood had bequeathed
+him.
+
+And fine old fellows they were if we can believe the historians of the
+seventeenth century: “Wearing the falchion and the rapier, the cloth
+coat lined with plush and embroidered belt, the gold hat-band and the
+feathers, silk stockings and garters, besides signet rings and other
+jewels; wainscoting the walls of their principal rooms in black oak and
+loading their sideboards with a deal of rich and massive silver plate
+upon which was carved the arms of their ancestors;--drinking, too,
+strong punch and sack from 'silver sack-cups'--(sack being their
+favorite)--and feasting upon oysters and the most delicious of all the
+ducks of the world.”
+
+And in none of their other distinguishing qualities was their descendant
+lacking. In the very lift of his head and brace of his shoulders; in the
+grace and ease with which he crossed the room, one could see at a glance
+something of the dash and often the repose of the cavalier from whom
+he had sprung. And the sympathy, kindness, and courtesy of the man
+that showed in every glance of his eye and every movement of his
+body--despite his occasional explosive temper--a sympathy that drifted
+in to an ungovernable impulse to divide everything he owned into two
+parts, and his own half into two once more if the other fellow needed
+it; a kindness that made every man his friend, and a courtesy which,
+even in a time when men lifted their hats to men, as well as to women,
+had gained for him, the town over, the soubriquet of “Gentleman George”;
+while to every young girl and youth under twenty he was just “dear Uncle
+George”--the one man in all Kennedy Square who held their secrets.
+
+
+But to our breakfast once more. All four dogs were on their feet now,
+their tails wagging expectantly, their noses at each of his knees, where
+they were regaled at regular intervals with choice bits from his plate,
+the snapping of their solemn jaws expressing their thanks. A second
+scallop-shell was next lifted from the hearth with the tongs, and
+deposited sizzling hot on a plate beside the master, the aroma of the
+oysters filling the room. These having disappeared, as had the former
+one, together with the waffles and coffee, and the master's appetite
+being now on the wane, general conversation became possible.
+
+“Did Mr. Rutter look ill, Todd?” he continued, picking up the thread of
+the talk where he had left it. “He wasn't very well when I left.”
+
+“No, sah,--neber see him look better. Been up a li'l' late I
+reckon,--Marse Harry mos' gen'ally is a li'l' mite late, sah--” Todd
+chuckled. “But dat ain't nuthin' to dese gemmans. But he sho' do wanter
+see ye. Maybe he stayed all night at Mister Seymour's. If he did an' he
+yered de rumpus dese rapscallions kicked up--yes--dat's you I'm talkin'
+to”--and he looked toward the dogs--“he'll be roun' yere 'fo' ye gits
+fru yo' bre'kfus'. Dey do say as how Marse Harry's mighty sweet in dat
+quarter. Mister Langdon Willits's snoopin' roun' too, but Miss Kate
+ain't got no use fer him. He ain't quality dey say.”
+
+His master let him run on; Aunt Jemima was Todd's only outlet during
+his master's absence, and as this was sometimes clogged by an uplifted
+broom, he made the best use he could of the opportunities when he
+and his master were alone. When “comp'ny” were present he was as
+close-mouthed as a clam and as noiseless as a crab.
+
+“Who told you all this gossip, Todd?” exclaimed St. George with a smile,
+laying down his knife and fork.
+
+“Ain't nary one tol' me--ain't no use bein' tol'. All ye got to do is
+to keep yo' eyes open. Be a weddin' dar 'fo' spring. Look out, sah--dat
+shell's still a-sizzlin'. Mo' coffee, sah? Wait till I gits some hot
+waffles--won't take a minute!” and he was out of the room and downstairs
+before his master could answer.
+
+Hardly had he slammed the kitchen door behind him when the clatter and
+stamp of a horse's hoofs were heard Outside, followed by an impatient
+rat-a-tat-tat on the knocker.
+
+The boy dropped his dishes: “Fo' Gawd, dat's Mister Harry!” he cried as
+he started on a run for the door. “Don't nobody bang de do' down like
+dat but him.”
+
+A slender, thoroughly graceful young fellow of twenty-one or two, booted
+and spurred, his dark eyes flashing, his face tingling with the sting of
+the early morning air, dashed past the obsequious darky and burst into
+Temple's presence with the rush of a north-west breeze. He had ridden
+ten miles since he vaulted into the saddle, had never drawn rein uphill
+or down, and neither he nor the thoroughbred pawing the mud outside had
+turned a hair.
+
+“Hello, Uncle George!” Temple, as has been said, was Uncle George to
+every girl and youth in Kennedy Square.
+
+“Why, Harry!” He had sprung from his seat, napkin in hand and had him
+by both shoulders, looking into his eyes as if he wanted to hug him, and
+would the first thing he knew. “Where are you from--Moorlands? What a
+rollicking chap you are, and you look so well and handsome, you dog!
+And now tell me of your dear mother and your father. But first down
+with you--here--right opposite--always your place, my dear Harry. Todd,
+another shell of oysters and more waffles and coffee--everything, Todd,
+and blazing hot: two shells, Todd--the sight of you, Harry, makes me
+ravenous again, and I could have eaten my boots, when I got home an hour
+ago, I was so hungry. But the mare”--here he moved to the window--“is
+she all right? Spitfire, I suppose--you'd kill anything else, you
+rascal! But you haven't tied her!”
+
+“No--never tie her--break her heart if I did. Todd, hang up this coat
+and hat in the hall before you go.”
+
+“That's what you said of that horse you bought of Hampson--ran away,
+didn't he?” persisted his host, his eyes on the mare, which had now
+become quiet.
+
+“Yes, and broke his leg. But Spitfire's all right--she'll stand. Where
+will I sit--here? And now what kind of a time did you have, and who were
+with you?”
+
+“Clayton, Doctor Teackle, and the judge.”
+
+“And how many ducks did you get?” and he dropped into his chair.
+
+“Twenty-one,” answered St. George, dry-washing his white shapely hands,
+as he took his seat--a habit of his when greatly pleased.
+
+“All canvas-backs?”
+
+“No--five redheads and a mallard.”
+
+“Where did you put up?” echoed Harry, loosening his riding-jacket to
+give his knife and fork freer play.
+
+“I spent a week at Tom Coston's and a week at Craddock. Another lump of
+sugar, Todd.”
+
+The boy laughed gently: “Lazy Tom's?”
+
+“Lazy Tom's--and the best-hearted fellow in the world. They're going to
+make him a judge, they say and--”
+
+“--What of--peach brandy? No cream in mine, Todd.”
+
+“No--you scurrilous dog--of the Common Court,” retorted St. George,
+looking at him over the top of his cup. “Very good lawyer is Tom--got
+horse sense and can speak the truth--make a very good judge.”
+
+Again Harry laughed--rather a forced laugh this time, as if he were
+trying to make himself agreeable but with so anxious a ring through it
+that Todd busied himself about the table before going below for fresh
+supplies, making excuse of collecting the used dishes. If there were to
+be any revelations concerning the situation at the Seymour house, he did
+not intend to miss any part of them.
+
+“Better put Mrs. Coston on the bench and set Tom to rocking the cradle,”
+ said the young man, reaching for the plate of corn pone. “She's a
+thoroughbred if ever I saw one, and does credit to her blood. But go
+on--tell me about the birds. Are they flying high?--and the duck blinds;
+have they fixed them up? They were all going to pot when I was there
+last.”
+
+“Birds out of range, most of them--hard work getting what I did. As to
+the blinds, they are still half full of water--got soaking wet trying to
+use one. I shot most of mine from the boat just as the day broke,” and
+then followed a full account of what the party had bagged, with details
+of every day's adventures. This done, St. George pushed back his chair
+and faced the young man.
+
+“And now you take the witness-stand, sir--look me in the eyes, put your
+hand on your fob-pocket and tell me the truth. Todd says you have
+been here every day for a week looking as if you had lost your last
+fip-penny-bit and wild to see me. What has happened?”
+
+“Todd has a vivid imagination.” He turned in his seat, stretched out
+his hand, and catching one of the dogs by the nose rubbed his head
+vigorously.
+
+“Go on--all of it--no dodging the king's counsellor. What's the matter?”
+
+The young man glanced furtively at Todd, grabbed another dog, rubbed
+their two ears together in play, and in a lowered voice, through which a
+tinge of sadness was only too apparent, murmured:
+
+“Miss Kate--we've had a falling out.”
+
+St. George lowered his head suddenly and gave a low whistle:--“Falling
+out?--what about?”
+
+Again young Rutter glanced at Todd, whose back was turned, but whose
+ears were stretched to splitting point. His host nodded understandingly.
+
+“There, Todd--that will do; now go down and get your breakfast. No
+more waffles, tell Aunt Jemima. Bring the pipes over here and throw on
+another log... that's right.” A great sputtering of sparks followed--a
+spider-legged, mahogany table was wheeled into place, and the dejected
+darky left the room for the regions below.
+
+“So you two have had a quarrel! Oh, Harry!--when will you learn to think
+twice before you speak? Whose fault was it?” sighed St. George, filling
+the bowl of his pipe with his slender fingers, slowly tucking in each
+shred and grain.
+
+“Mine.”
+
+“What did you say?” (Puff-puff.)
+
+“Nothing--I couldn't. She came in and saw it all.” The boy had his
+elbows on the table now, his cheeks sunk in his hands.
+
+St. George looked up: “Drunk, were you?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Where?”
+
+“At Mrs. Cheston's ball last week.”
+
+“Have you seen her since?”
+
+“No--she won't let me come near her. Mr. Seymour passed me yesterday and
+hardly spoke to me.”
+
+St. George canted his chair and zigzagged it toward the blazing hearth;
+then he said thoughtfully, without looking at the young man:
+
+“Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish! Have you told your father?”
+
+“No--he wouldn't understand.”
+
+“And I know you didn't tell your mother.” This came with the tone of
+positive conviction.
+
+“No--and don't you. Mother is daft on the subject. If she had her way,
+father would never put a drop of wine on the table. She says it is
+ruining the county--but that's mother's way.”
+
+St. George stooped over, fondled one of the dogs for a moment--two had
+followed Todd out of the room--settled back in his chair again, and
+still looking into the fire, said slowly:
+
+“Bad business--bad business, Harry! Kate is as proud as Lucifer and
+dislikes nothing on earth so much as being made conspicuous. Tell me
+exactly what happened.”
+
+“Well, there isn't anything to tell,” replied the young fellow, raising
+his head and leaning back in his chair, his face the picture of despair.
+“We were all in the library and the place was boiling-hot, and they had
+two big bowls, one full of eggnog and the other full of apple-toddy: and
+the next thing I knew I was out in the hall and met Kate on the stairs.
+She gave a little smothered scream, and moaned--'Oh, Harry!--and you
+promised me!'--and then she put her hands to her face, as if to shut me
+out of her sight. That sobered me somewhat, and after I got out on the
+porch into the night air and had pulled myself together, I tried to find
+her and apologize, but she had gone home, although the ball wasn't half
+over.
+
+“Then this was not the first time?” He was still at the hot coals, both
+hands outfanned, to screen his face from the blaze.
+
+“No--I'm sorry to say it wasn't. I told her I would never fail her
+again, and she forgave me, but I don't know what she'll do now. She
+never forgives anybody who breaks his word--she's very queer about
+it. That's what I came to see you about. I haven't slept much nights,
+thinking it over, and so I had the mare saddled, as soon as it got
+light, hoping you would be home. Todd thought you might be--he saw Dr.
+Teackle's Joe, who said you were all coming to-day.”
+
+Again there was a long pause, during which Temple continued to study the
+coals through his open fingers, the young man sitting hunched up in
+his chair, his handsome head dropped between his shoulders, his glossy
+chestnut hair, a-frouze with his morning ride, fringing his collar
+behind.
+
+“Harry,” said St. George, knocking the ashes slowly from his pipe on
+the edge of the fender, and turning his face for the first time toward
+him,--“didn't I hear something before I went away about a ball at your
+father's--or a dance--or something, when your engagement was to be
+announced?”
+
+The boy nodded.
+
+“And was it not to be something out of the ordinary?” he continued,
+looking at the boy from under his eyelids--“Teackle certainly told me
+so--said that your mother had already begun to get the house in order--”
+
+Again Harry nodded--as if he had been listening to an indictment, every
+word of which he knew was true.
+
+St. George roused himself and faced his guest: “And yet you took this
+time, Harry, to--”
+
+The boy threw up both hands in protest:
+
+“Don't!--DON'T! Uncle George! It's the ball that makes it all the worse.
+That's why I've got no time to lose; that's why I've haunted this place
+waiting for you to get back. Mother will be heart-broken if she finds
+out and I don't know what father would do.”
+
+St. George laid his empty pipe on the table and straightened his body
+in the chair until his broad shoulders filled the back. Then his brow
+darkened; his indignation was getting the better of him.
+
+“I don't know what has come over you young fellows, Harry!” he at last
+broke out, his eyes searching the boy's. “You don't seem to know how
+to live. You've got to pull a shoat out of a trough to keep it from
+overeating itself, but you shouldn't be obliged to pull a gentleman away
+from his glass. Good wine is good food and should be treated as such. My
+cellar is stocked with old Madeira--some port--some fine sherries--so
+is your father's. Have you ever seen him abuse them?--have you ever
+seen Mr. Horn or Mr. Kennedy, or any of our gentlemen around here, abuse
+them? It's scandalous, Harry! damnable! I love you, my son--love you
+in a way you know nothing of, but you've got to stop this sort of thing
+right off. And so have these young roysterers you associate with. It's
+getting worse every day. I don't wonder your dear mother feels about it
+as she does. But she's always been that way, and she's always been right
+about it, too, although I didn't use to think so.” This last came with
+a lowered voice and a deep, indrawn sigh, and for the moment checked the
+flow of his wrath.
+
+Harry hung his head still lower, but he did not attempt to defend
+himself.
+
+“Who else were making vulgarians of themselves at Mrs. Cheston's?” St.
+George continued in a calmer tone, stretching his shapely legs until the
+soles of his shoes touched the fender.
+
+“Mark Gilbert, Tom Murdoch, Langdon Willits, and--”
+
+“Willits, eh?--Well, I should expect it of Willits. He wasn't born a
+gentleman--that is, his grandfather wasn't a gentleman--married his
+overseer's daughter, if I remember right:--but you come of the
+best blood in the State,--egad!--none better! You have something to
+maintain--some standard to keep up. A Rutter should never be found
+guilty of anything that would degrade his name. You seem to forget
+that--you--damn me, Harry!--when I think of it all--and of Kate--my
+sweet, lovely Kate,--and how you have made her suffer--for she loves
+you--no question of that--I feel like wringing your neck! What the devil
+do you mean, Sir?” He was up on his feet now, pacing the room, the dogs
+following his every movement with their brown agate eyes, their soft,
+silky ears straightening and falling.
+
+So far the young fellow had not moved nor had he offered a word in
+defence. He knew his Uncle George--better let him blow it all out, then
+the two could come together. At last he said in a contrite tone--his
+hands upraised:
+
+“Don't scold me, Uncle George. I've scolded myself enough--just say
+something to help me. I can't give Kate up--I'd sooner die. I've always
+made a fool of myself--maybe I'll quit doing it after this. Tell me how
+I can straighten this out. She won't see me--maybe her father won't.
+He and my father--so Tom Warfield told me yesterday--had a talk at the
+club. What they said I don't know, but Mr. Seymour was pretty mad--that
+is, for him--so Tom thought from the way he spoke.”
+
+“And he ought to be mad--raging mad! He's only got one daughter, and she
+the proudest and loveliest thing on earth, and that one he intends to
+give to you”--Harry looked up in surprise--“Yes--he told me so. And here
+you are breaking her heart before he has announced it to the world. It's
+worse than damnable, Harry--it's a CRIME!”
+
+For some minutes he continued his walk, stopping to look out of the
+window, his eyes on the mare who, with head up and restless eyes, was on
+the watch for her master's return; then he picked up his pipe from the
+table, threw himself into his chair again, and broke into one of his
+ringing laughs.
+
+“I reckon it's because you're twenty, Harry, I forgot that. Hot
+blood--hot temper,--madcap dare-devil that you are--not a grain of
+common-sense. But what can you expect?--I was just like you at your age.
+Come, now, what shall we do first?”
+
+The young fellow rose and a smile of intense relief crept over his face.
+He had had many such overhaulings from his uncle, and always with this
+ending. Whenever St. George let out one of those big, spontaneous,
+bubbling laughs straight from his heart, the trouble, no matter how
+serious, was over. What some men gained by anger and invective St.
+George gained by good humor, ranging from the faint smile of toleration
+to the roar of merriment. One reason why he had so few enemies--none,
+practically--was that he could invariably disarm an adversary with a
+laugh. It was a fine old blade that he wielded; only a few times in his
+life had he been called upon to use any other--when some under-dog was
+maltreated, or his own good name or that of a friend was traduced, or
+some wrong had to be righted--then his face would become as hot steel
+and there would belch out a flame of denunciation that would scorch
+and blind in its intensity. None of these fiercer moods did the boy
+know;--what he knew was his uncle's merry side--his sympathetic, loving
+side,--and so, following up his advantage, he strode across the room,
+settled down on the arm of his uncle's chair, and put his arm about his
+shoulders.
+
+“Won't you go and see her, please?” he pleaded, patting his back,
+affectionately.
+
+“What good will that do? Hand me a match, Harry.”
+
+“Everything--that's what I came for.”
+
+“Not with Kate! She isn't a child--she's a woman,” he echoed back
+between the puffs, his indignation again on the rise. “And she is
+different from the girls about here,” he added, tossing the burned match
+in the fire. “When she once makes up her mind it stays made up.”
+
+“Don't let her make it up! Go and see her and tell her how I love her
+and how miserable I am. Tell her I'll never break another promise to
+her as long as I live. Nobody ever holds out against you. Please, Uncle
+George! I'll never come to you for anything else in the world if you'll
+help me this time. And I won't drink another drop of anything you don't
+want me to drink--I don't care what father or anybody else says. Oh,
+you've GOT to go to her!--I can't stand it any longer! Every time I
+think of Kate hidden away over there where I can't get at her, it drives
+me wild. I wouldn't ask you to go if I could go myself and talk it out
+with her--but she won't let me near her--I've tried, and tried; and Ben
+says she isn't at home, and knows he lies when he says it! You will go,
+won't you?”
+
+The smoke from his uncle's pipe was coming freer now--most of it
+escaping up the throat of the chimney with a gentle swoop.
+
+“When do you want me to go?” He had already surrendered. When had he
+ever held out when a love affair was to be patched up?
+
+“Now, right away.”
+
+“No,--I'll go to-night,--she will be at home then,” he said at last,
+as if he had just made up his mind, the pipe having helped--“and do
+you come in about nine and--let me know when you are there, or--better
+still, wait in the hall until I come for you.”
+
+“But couldn't I steal in while you are talking?”
+
+“No--you do just as I tell you. Not a sound out of you, remember, until
+I call you.”
+
+“But how am I to know? She might go out the other door and--”
+
+“You'll know when I come for you.”
+
+“And you think it will be all right, don't you?” he pleaded. “You'll
+tell her what an awful time I've had, won't you, Uncle George?”
+
+“Yes, every word of it.”
+
+“And that I haven't slept a wink since--”
+
+“Yes--and that you are going to drown yourself and blow your head off
+and swallow poison. Now off with you and let me think how I am to begin
+straightening out this idiotic mess. Nine o'clock, remember, and in the
+hall until I come for you.”
+
+“Yes--nine o'clock! Oh!--you good Uncle George! I'll never forget you
+for it,” and with a grasp of St. George's hand and another outpouring
+of gratitude, the young fellow swung wide the door, clattered down the
+steps, threw his leg over Spitfire, and dashed up the street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+
+If Kate's ancestors had wasted any part of their substance in too lavish
+a hospitality, after the manner of the spendthrift whose extravagances
+were recounted in the preceding chapter, there was nothing to indicate
+it in the home of their descendants. No loose shutters, crumbling
+chimneys, or blistered woodwork defaced the Seymour mansion:--the touch
+of the restorer was too apparent. No sooner did a shutter sag or a hinge
+give way than away it went to the carpenter or the blacksmith; no sooner
+did a banister wabble, or a table crack, or an andiron lose a leg, than
+up came somebody with a kit, or a bag, or a box of tools, and they were
+as good as new before you could wink your eye. Indeed, so great was the
+desire to keep things up that it was only necessary (so a wag said) to
+scratch a match on old Seymour's front door to have its panels repainted
+the next morning.
+
+And then its seclusion:--while its neighbors--the Temple mansion among
+them--had been placed boldly out to the full building line where they
+could see and be seen, the Seymours, with that spirit of aloofness which
+had marked the family for generations, had set their dwelling back ten
+paces, thrown up a hedge of sweet-smelling box to screen the inmates
+from the gaze of passers-by, planted three or four big trees as
+protection for the upper windows, and, to insure still greater privacy,
+had put up a swinging wooden gate, kept shut by a ball and chain, its
+clang announcing the entrance of each and every visitor.
+
+And this same spirit was manifest the moment you stepped into the wide
+hall, glanced at the old family portraits marching steadily, one after
+another, up the side of the spacious stairs (revarnished every other
+year)--entered the great drawing-room hung with yellow satin
+and decorated with quaint mirrors, and took a scat in one of the
+all-embracing arm-chairs, there to await the arrival of either the
+master of the house or his charming daughter.
+
+If it were the master to whom you wished to pay your respects, one
+glance at the Honorable Howard Douglass Seymour would have convinced you
+that he was precisely the kind of man who should have had charge of
+so well-ordered a home: so well brushed was he--so clean-shaven--so
+immaculately upholstered--the two points of his collar pinching his
+cheeks at the same precise angle; his faultless black stock fitting to
+perfection, the lapels of his high-rolled coat matching exactly. And
+then the correct parting of the thin gray hair and the two little gray
+brush-tails of lovelocks that were combed in front of his ears, there
+to become a part of the two little dabs of gray whiskers that stretched
+from his temples to his bleached cheekbones. Yes--a most carefully
+preserved, prim, and well-ordered person was Kate's father.
+
+As to the great man's career, apart from his service in the legislature,
+which won him his title, there was no other act of his life which
+marked him apart from his fellows. Suffice it to say that he was born
+a gentleman without a penny to his name; that he married Kate's mother
+when she was twenty and he forty (and here is another story, and a sad
+one)--she the belle of her time--and sole heir to the estate of her
+grandfather, Captain Hugh Barkeley, the rich ship-owner--and that the
+alliance had made him a gentleman of unlimited leisure, she, at her
+death, having left all her property to her daughter Kate, with the
+Honorable Prim as custodian.
+
+And this trust, to his credit be it said--for Seymour was of Scotch
+descent, a point in his favor with old Captain Barkeley, who was
+Scotch on his mother's side, and, therefore, somewhat canny--was most
+religiously kept, he living within his ample means--or Kate's, which was
+the same thing--discharging the duties of father, citizen, and friend,
+with the regularity of a clock--so many hours with his daughter, so many
+hours at his club, so many hours at his office; the intermediate minutes
+being given over to resting, dressing, breakfasting, dining, sleeping,
+and no doubt praying; the precise moment that marked the beginning and
+ending of each task having been fixed years in advance by this most
+exemplary, highly respectable, and utterly colorless old gentleman of
+sixty.
+
+That this dry shell of a man could be the father of our spontaneous
+lovely Kate was one of the things that none of the younger people around
+Kennedy Square could understand--but then few of them had known her
+beautiful mother with her proud step and flashing eyes.
+
+But it is not the punctilious, methodical Prim whom St. George wishes to
+see to-night; nor does he go through any of the formalities customary
+to the house. There is no waiting until old Ben, the family butler in
+snuff-colored coat and silver buttons, shuffles upstairs or into the
+library, or wherever the inmates were to be found, there to announce
+“Massa George Temple.” Nor did he send in his card, or wait until his
+knock was answered. He simply swung back the gate until the old chain
+and ball, shocked at his familiarity, rattled itself into a rage, strode
+past the neatly trimmed, fragrant box, pushed open the door--no front
+door was ever locked in the daytime in Kennedy Square, and few at
+night--and halting at the bottom step, called up the silent stairs in a
+voice that was a joyous greeting in itself:
+
+“Kate, you darling! come down as quick as your dear little feet will
+carry you! It's Uncle George, do you hear?--or shall I come up and bring
+you down in my arms, you bunch of roses? It won't be the first time.”
+ The first time was when she was a year old.
+
+“Oh!--is that you, Uncle George? Yes,--just as soon as I do up my back
+hair.” The voice came from the top of the stairs--a lark's voice singing
+down from high up. “Father's out and--”
+
+“Yes--I know he's out; I met him on his way to the club. Hurry now--I've
+got the best news in the world for you.”
+
+“Yes--in a minute.”
+
+He knew her minutes, and how long they could be, and in his impatience
+roamed about the wide hall examining the old English engravings and
+colored prints decorating the panels until he heard her step overhead
+and looking up watched her cross the upper hall, her well-poised,
+aristocratic head high in air, her full, well-rounded, blossoming body
+imaged in the loose embroidered scarf wound about her sloping shoulders.
+Soon he caught the wealth of her blue-black hair in whose folds her
+negro mammy had pinned a rose that matched the brilliancy of her cheeks,
+two stray curls wandering over her neck; her broad forehead, with
+clearly marked eyebrows, arching black lashes shading lustrous,
+slumbering eyes; and as she drew nearer, her warm red lips, exquisite
+teeth, and delicate chin, and last, the little feet that played hide and
+seek beneath her quilted petticoat: a tall, dark, full-blooded, handsome
+girl of eighteen with an air of command and distinction tempered by a
+certain sweet dignity and delicious coquetry--a woman to be loved even
+when she ruled and to be reverenced even when she trifled.
+
+She had reached the floor now, and the two arm in arm, he patting her
+hand, she laughing beside him, had entered the small library followed by
+the old butler bringing another big candelabra newly lighted.
+
+“It's so good of you to come,” she cried, her face alight with the joy
+of seeing him--“and you look so happy and well--your trip down the bay
+has done you a world of good. Ben says the ducks you sent father are the
+best we have had this winter. Now tell me, dear Uncle George”--she had
+him in one of the deep arm-chairs by this time, with a cushion behind
+his shoulders--“I am dying to hear all about it.”
+
+“Don't you 'dear Uncle George' me until you've heard what I've got to
+say.”
+
+“But you said you had the best news in the world for me,” she laughed,
+looking at him from under her lashes.
+
+“So I have.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Harry.”
+
+The girl's face clouded and her lips quivered. Then she sat bolt
+upright.
+
+“I won't hear a word about him. He's broken his promise to me and I will
+never trust him again. If I thought you'd come to talk about Harry, I
+wouldn't have come down.”
+
+St. George lay back in his chair, shrugged his shoulders, stole a
+look at her from beneath his bushy eyebrows, and said with an assumed
+dignity, a smile playing about his lips:
+
+“All right, off goes his head--exit the scoundrel. Much as I could do
+to keep him out of Jones Falls this morning, but of course now it's
+all over we can let Spitfire break his neck. That's the way a gentleman
+should die of love--and not be fished out of a dirty stream with his
+clothes all bespattered with mud.”
+
+“But he won't die for love. He doesn't know what love means or he
+wouldn't behave as he does. Do you know what really happened, Uncle
+George?” Her brown eyes were flashing, her cheeks aflame with her
+indignation.
+
+“Oh, I know exactly what happened. Harry told me with the tears running
+down his cheeks. It was dreadful--INEXCUSABLE--BARBAROUS! I've been that
+way myself--tumbled half-way down these same stairs before you were born
+and had to be put to bed, which accounts for the miserable scapegrace I
+am to-day.” His face was in a broad smile, but his voice never wavered.
+
+Kate looked at him and put out her hand. “You never did--I won't believe
+a word of it.”
+
+“Ask your father, my dear. He helped carry me upstairs, and Ben pulled
+off my boots. Oh, it was most disgraceful! I'm just beginning to live it
+down,” and he reached over and patted the girl's cheek, his hearty laugh
+ringing through the room.
+
+Kate was smiling now--her Uncle George was always irresistible when he
+was like this.
+
+“But Harry isn't you,” she pouted.
+
+“ISN'T ME!--why I was ten times worse! He's only twenty-one and I was
+twenty-five. He's got four years the better of me in which to reform.”
+
+“He'll NEVER be like you--you never broke a promise in your life. He
+gave me his word of honor he would never get--yes--I'm just going to
+say it--drunk--again: yes--that's the very word--DRUNK! I don't care--I
+won't have it! I won't have anything to do with anybody who breaks his
+promise, and who can't keep sober. My father was never so in his life,
+and Harry shall never come near me again if he--”
+
+“Hold on!--HOLD ON! Oh, what an unforgiving minx! You Seymours are all
+like tinder boxes--your mother was just like you and so was--”
+
+“Well, not father,” she bridled, with a toss of her head.
+
+St. George smiled queerly--Prim was one of his jokes. “Your father, my
+dear Kate, has the milk of human kindness in his veins, not red fighting
+blood. That makes a whole lot of difference. Now listen to me:--you love
+Harry--”
+
+“No! I DESPISE him! I told him so!” She had risen from her seat and had
+moved to the mantel, where she stood looking into the fire, her back
+toward him.
+
+“Don't you interrupt me, you blessed girl--just you listen to Uncle
+George for a minute. You DO love Harry--you can't help it--nobody can.
+If you had seen him this morning you would have thrown your arms around
+him in a minute--I came near doing it myself. Of course he's wild,
+reckless, and hot-headed like all the Rutters and does no end of foolish
+things, but you wouldn't love him if he was different. He's just like
+Spitfire--never keeps still a minute--restless, pawing the ground, or
+all four feet in the air--then away she goes! You can't reason with
+her--you don't wish to; you get impatient when she chafes at the bit
+because you are determined she shall keep still, but if you wanted her
+to go like the wind and she couldn't, you'd be more dissatisfied than
+ever. The pawing and chafing is of no matter; it is her temperament
+that counts. So it is with Harry. He wouldn't be the lovable, dashing,
+high-spirited young fellow he is if he didn't kick over the traces once
+in a while and break everything to pieces--his promises among them. And
+it isn't his fault--it's the Spanish and Dutch blood in his veins--the
+blood of that old hidalgo and his Dutch ancestor, De Ruyter--that crops
+out once in a while. Harry would be a pirate and sweep the Spanish main
+if he had lived in those days, instead of being a gentleman who values
+nothing in life so much as the woman he loves.”
+
+He had been speaking to her back all this time, the girl never moving,
+the outlines of her graceful body in silhouette against the blaze.
+
+“Then why doesn't he prove it?” she sighed. She liked old hidalgos and
+had no aversion to pirates if they were manly and brave about their
+work.
+
+“He does--and he lives up to his standard except in this one failing
+for which I am truly sorry. Abominable I grant you--but there are many
+things which are worse.”
+
+“I can't think of anything worse,” she echoed with a deep sigh, walking
+slowly toward him and regaining her chair, all her anger gone, only the
+pain in her heart left. “I don't want Harry to be like the others, and
+he can't live their lives if he's going to be my husband. I want him
+to be different,--to be big and fine and strong,--like the men who have
+made the world better for their having lived in it--that old De Ruyter,
+for instance, that his father is always bragging about--not a weak,
+foolish boy whom everybody can turn around their fingers. Some of my
+girl friends don't mind what the young men do, or how often they break
+their word to them so that they are sure of their love. I do, and I
+won't have it, and I have told Harry so over and over again. It's such
+a cowardly thing--not to be man enough to stand up and say 'No--I won't
+drink with you!' That's why I say I can't think of his doing anything
+worse.”
+
+St. George fixed his eyes upon her. He had thought he knew the girl's
+heart, but this was a revelation to him. Perhaps her sorrow, like that
+of her mother, was making a well-rounded woman of her.
+
+“Oh, I can think of a dozen things worse,” he rejoined with some
+positiveness. “Harry might lie; Harry might be a coward; Harry might
+stand by and hear a friend defamed; Harry might be discourteous to a
+woman, or allow another man to be--a thing he'd rather die than permit.
+None of these things could he be or do. I'd shut my door in his face if
+he did any one of them, and so should you. And then he is so penitent
+when he has done anything wrong. 'It was my fault--I would rather hang
+myself than lose Kate. I haven't slept a wink, Uncle George.' And he was
+so handsome when he came in this morning--his big black eyes flashing,
+his cheeks like two roses--so straight and strong, and so graceful and
+wholesome and lovable. I wouldn't care, if I were you, if he did slip
+once in a while--not any more than I would if Spitfire stumbled. And
+then again”--here he moved his chair close to her own so he could get
+his hand on hers the easier--“if Spitfire does stumble, there is the
+bridle to pull her up, but for this she might break her neck. That's
+where you come in, Kate. Harry's in your hands--has been since the hour
+he loved you. Don't let him go headlong to the devil--and he will if you
+turn him loose without a bridle.”
+
+“I can't do him any good--he won't mind anything I say. And what
+dependence can I place on him after this?” her voice sank to a tone
+of helpless tenderness. “It isn't his being drunk altogether; he will
+outgrow that, perhaps, as you say you did, and be man enough to say no
+next time; but it's because he broke his promise to me. That he will
+never outgrow! Oh, it's wicked!--wicked for him to treat me so. I have
+never done anything he didn't want me to do! and he has no right to--Oh,
+Uncle George, it's--”
+
+St. George leaned nearer and covered her limp fingers with his own
+tender grasp.
+
+“Try him once more, Kate. Let me send him to you. It will be all over
+in a minute and you will be so happy--both of you! Nothing like making
+up--it really pays for the pain of a quarrel.”
+
+The outside door shut gently and there was a slight movement in the hall
+behind them, but neither of them noticed it. Kate sat with her head up,
+her mind at work, her eyes watching the firelight. It was her future she
+was looking into. She had positive, fixed ideas of what her station in
+life as a married woman should be;--not what her own or Harry's birth
+and position could bring her. With that will-o'-the-wisp she had no
+sympathy. Her grandfather in his early days had been a plain, seafaring
+man even if his ancestry did go back to the time of James I, and her
+mother had been a lady, and that too without the admixture of a single
+drop of the blood of any Kennedy Square aristocrat. That Harry was
+well born and well bred was as it should be, but there was something
+more;--the man himself. That was why she hesitated. Yes--it WOULD “all
+be over in a minute,” just as Uncle George said, but when would the
+next break come? And then again there was her mother's life with all the
+misery that a broken promise had caused her. Uncle George was not the
+only young gallant who had been put to bed in her grandfather's house.
+Her mother had loved too--just as much as she loved Harry--loved with
+her whole soul--until grandpa Barkeley put his foot down.
+
+St. George waited in silence as he read her mind. Breaches between
+most of the boys and girls were easily patched up--a hearty cry, an
+outstretched hand--“I am so sorry,” and they were in each other's arms.
+Not so with Kate. Her reason, as well as her heart, had to be satisfied.
+This was one of the things that made her different from all the other
+girls about her, and this too was what had given her first place in
+the affections and respect of all who knew her. Her heart he saw was
+uppermost to-night, but reason still lurked in the background.
+
+“What do you think made him do it again?” she murmured at last in a
+voice barely audible, her fingers tightening in his palm. “He knows how
+I suffer and he knows too WHY I suffer. Oh, Uncle George!--won't you
+please talk to him! I love him so, and I can't marry him if he's like
+this. I can't!--_I_ CAN'T!”
+
+A restrained smile played over St. George's face. The tide was setting
+his way.
+
+“It won't do a bit of good,” he said calmly, smothering his joy. “I've
+talked to him until I'm tired, and the longer I talk the more wild he
+is to see you. Now it's your turn and there's no time to lose. I'll have
+him here in five minutes,” and he glanced at the clock. She raised her
+hand in alarm:
+
+“I don't want him yet. You must see him first--you must--”
+
+“No, I won't see him first, and I'm not going to wait a minute. Talk to
+him yourself; put your arms around him and tell him everything you have
+told me--now--to-night. I'm going for him,” and he sprang to his feet.
+
+“No!--you must not! You SHALL not!” she cried, clutching nervously at
+his arm, but he was out of the room before she could stop him.
+
+In the silent hall, hat in hand, his whole body tense with expectancy,
+stood Harry. He had killed time by walking up and down the long strip of
+carpet between the front door and the staircase, measuring his nervous
+steps to the length of the pattern, his mind distracted by his fears
+for the outcome--his heart thumping away at his throat, a dull fright
+gripping him when he thought of losing her altogether.
+
+St. George's quick step, followed by his firm clutch of the inside knob,
+awoke him to consciousness. He sprang forward to catch his first word.
+
+“Can I go in?” he stammered.
+
+St. George grabbed him by the shoulder, wheeled him around, and faced
+him.
+
+“Yes, you reprobate, and when you get in go down on your knees and beg
+her pardon, and if I ever catch you causing her another heartache I'll
+break your damned neck!--do you hear?”
+
+
+With the shutting of the swinging gate the wily old diplomat regained
+his normal good-humored poise, his face beaming, his whole body tingling
+at his success. He knew what was going on behind the closed curtains,
+and just how contrite and humble the boy would be, and how Kate would
+scold and draw herself up--proud duchess that she was--and how Harry
+would swear by the nine gods, and an extra one if need be--and
+then there would come a long, long silence, broken by meaningless,
+half-spoken words--and then another silence--so deep and absorbing that
+a full choir of angels might have started an anthem above their heads
+and neither of them would have heard a word or note.
+
+And so he kept on his way, picking his steps between the moist places
+in the path to avoid soiling his freshly varnished boots; tightening the
+lower button of his snug-fitting plum-colored coat as a bracing to his
+waist-line; throwing open the collar of his overcoat the wider to
+give his shoulders the more room--very happy--very well satisfied with
+himself, with the world, and with everybody who lived in it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+
+Moorlands was ablaze!
+
+From the great entrance gate flanked by moss-stained brick posts capped
+with stone balls, along the avenue of oaks to the wide portico leading
+to the great hall and spacious rooms, there flared one continuous burst
+of light. On either side of the oak-bordered driveway, between the
+tree-trunks, crackled torches of pine knots, the glow of their curling
+flames bringing into high relief the black faces of innumerable
+field-hands from the Rutter and neighboring plantations, lined up
+on either side of the gravel road--teeth and eyeballs flashing white
+against the blackness of the night. Under the porches hung festoons
+of lanterns of every conceivable form and color, while inside the wide
+baronial hall, and in the great drawing-room with the apartments
+beyond, the light of countless candles, clustered together in silver
+candelabras, shed a soft glow over the groups of waiting guests.
+
+To-night Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands, direct descendant of
+the house of De Ruyter, with an ancestry dating back to the Spanish
+Invasion, was to bid official welcome to a daughter of the house of
+Seymour, equally distinguished by flood and field in the service of
+its king. These two--God be thanked--loved each other, and now that the
+young heir to Moorlands was to bring home his affianced bride, soon
+to become his wedded wife, no honor could be too great, no expense too
+lavish, no welcome too joyful.
+
+Moreover, that this young princess of the blood might be accorded
+all the honors due her birth, lineage, and rank, the colonel's own
+coach-and-four, with two postilions and old Matthew on the box--twenty
+years in the service--his whip tied with forget-me-nots, the horses'
+ears streaming with white ribbons--each flank as smooth as satin and
+each panel bright as a mirror--had been trundled off to Kennedy Square,
+there to receive the fairest of all her daughters, together with such
+other members of her royal suite--including His Supreme Excellency
+the Honorable Prim--not forgetting, of course, Kate's old black mammy,
+Henny, who was as much a part of the fair lady's belongings when she
+went afield as her ostrich-plume fan, her white gloves, or the wee
+slippers that covered her enchanting feet.
+
+Every detail of harness, wheel, and brake--even the horn itself--had
+passed under the colonel's personal supervision; Matthew on the box
+straight as a hitching-post and bursting with pride, reins gathered,
+whip balanced, the leaders steady and the wheel horses in line. Then the
+word had been given, and away they had swept round the circle and so on
+down the long driveway to the outer gate and Kennedy Square. Ten miles
+an hour were the colonel's orders and ten miles an hour must Matthew
+make, including the loading and unloading of his fair passenger and her
+companions, or there would be the devil to pay on his return.
+
+And the inside of the house offered no less a welcome. Drawn up in the
+wide hall, under the direct command of old Alec, the head butler, were
+the house servants;--mulatto maids in caps, snuff-colored second butlers
+in livery, jet-black mammies in new bandannas and white aprons--all in a
+flutter of excitement, and each one determined to get the first glimpse
+of Marse Harry's young lady, no matter at what risk.
+
+Alec himself was a joy to look upon--eyeballs and teeth gleaming, his
+face one wide, encircling smile. Marse Harry was the apple of his eye,
+and had been ever since the day of his birth. He had carried him on his
+back when a boy; had taught him to fish and hunt and to ride to hounds;
+had nursed him when he fell ill at the University in his college days,
+and would gladly have laid down his life for him had any such necessity
+arisen. To-night, in honor of the occasion, he was rigged out in a
+new bottle-green coat with shiny brass buttons, white waistcoat, white
+gloves three sizes too big for him, and a huge white cravat flaring out
+almost to the tips of his ears. Nothing was too good for Alec--so his
+mistress thought--and for the best of reasons. Not only was he the
+ideal servant of the old school, but he was the pivot on which the whole
+establishment moved. If a particular brand or vintage was needed, or a
+key was missing, or did a hair trunk, or a pair of spurs, or last
+week's Miscellany, go astray--or even were his mistress's spectacles
+mislaid--Alec could put his hand upon each and every item in so short a
+space of time that the loser was convinced the old man had hidden them
+on purpose, to enjoy their refinding. Moorlands without old Alec would
+hive been a wheel without a hub.
+
+As a distinct feature of all these preparations--and this was the
+best part of the programme--Harry was to meet Kate at the outer gate
+supported by half a dozen of his young friends and hers--Dr. Teackle,
+Mark Gilbert, Langdon Willits, and one or two others--while Mrs. Rutter,
+Mrs. Cheston, Mrs. Richard Horn, and a bevy of younger women and girls
+were to welcome her with open arms the moment her dainty feet cleared
+the coach's step. This was the way princesses of the blood had been
+welcomed from time immemorial to palaces and castles high, and this was
+the way their beloved Kate was to make entry into the home of her lord.
+
+Soon the flash of the coach lamps was seen outside the far gate. Then
+there came the wind of a horn--a rollicking, rolling, gladsome sound,
+and in the wink of an eyelid every one was out on the portico straining
+their eyes, listening eagerly. A joyous shout now went up from the
+negroes lining the fences; from the groups about the steps and along the
+driveway.
+
+“Here she comes!”
+
+The leaders with a swing pranced into view as they cleared the gate
+posts. There came a moment's halt at the end of the driveway; a
+postilion vaulted down, threw wide the coach door and a young man sprang
+in. It was Harry!... Snap!! Crack!! Toot--toot!!--and they were off
+again, heading straight for the waiting group. Another prolonged,
+winding note--louder--nearer--one of triumph this time!--a galloping,
+circling dash toward the porch crowded with guests--the reining in of
+panting leaders--the sudden gathering up of the wheel horses, back on
+their haunches--the coach door flung wide and out stepped Kate--Harry's
+hand in hers, her old mammy behind, her father last of all.
+
+“Oh, such a lovely drive! and it was so kind of you, dear colonel, to
+send for me! Oh, it was splendid! And Matthew galloped most all the
+way.” She had come as a royal princess, but she was still our Kate. “And
+you are all out here to meet me!” Here she kissed Harry's mother--“and
+you too, Uncle George--and Sue--Oh, how fine you all look!”--and with a
+curtsy and a joyous laugh and a hand-clasp here and there, she bent her
+head and stepped into the wide hall under the blaze of the clustered
+candles.
+
+It was then that they caught their breaths, for no such vision of beauty
+had ever before stood in the wide hall of Moorlands, her eyes shining
+like two stars above the rosy hue of her cheek; her skin like a shell,
+her throat and neck a lily in color and curves. And her poise; her
+gladsomeness; her joy at being alive and at finding everybody else
+alive; the way she moved and laughed and bent her pretty head; the
+ripples of gay laughter and the low-pitched tone of the warm greetings
+that fell from her lips!
+
+No wonder Harry was bursting with pride; no wonder Langdon Willits
+heaved a deep sigh when he caught the glance that Kate flashed at Harry
+and went out on the porch to get a breath of fresh air; no wonder St.
+George's heart throbbed as he watched them both and thought how near all
+this happiness had come to being wrecked; no wonder the servants tumbled
+over each other in their eagerness to get a view of her face and gown,
+and no wonder, too, that the proud, old colonel who ruled his house with
+a rod of iron, determined for the first time in his life to lay down
+the sceptre and give Kate and Harry full sway to do whatever popped into
+their two silly heads.
+
+And our young Lochinvar was fully her match in bearing, dress, and
+manners,--every inch a prince and every inch a Rutter,--and with such
+grace of movement as he stepped beside her, that even punctilious,
+outspoken old Mrs. Cheston--who had forgiven him his escapade, and who
+was always laughing at what she called the pump-handle shakes of some
+of the underdone aristocrats about her, had to whisper to the nearest
+guest--“Watch Harry, my dear, if you would see how a thoroughbred
+manages his legs and arms when he wishes to do honor to a woman.
+Admirable!--charming! No young man of my time ever did better.” And Mrs.
+Cheston knew, for she had hobnobbed with kings and queens, her husband
+having represented his government at the Court of St. James--which fact,
+however, never prevented her from calling a spade a spade; nor was she
+ever very particular as to what the spade unearthed.
+
+Yes--a very gallant and handsome young man was our prince as he handed
+Kate up the stairs on her way to the dressing-room, and looked it in his
+pearl-gray coat with buttons of silver, fluffy white silk scarf, high
+dog-eared collar, ivory-white waistcoat, and tight-fitting trousers of
+nankeen yellow, held close to the pumps with invisible straps. And a
+very gallant and handsome young fellow he felt himself to be on this
+night of his triumph, and so thought Kate--in fact she had fallen in
+love with him over again--and so too did every one of the young girls
+who crowded about them, as well as the dominating, erect aristocrat of
+a father, and the anxious gentle mother, who worshipped the ground on
+which he walked.
+
+Kate had noted every expression that crossed his face, absorbing him in
+one comprehensive glance as he stood in the full blaze of the candles,
+her gaze lingering on his mouth and laughing eyes and the soft sheen of
+his brown hair, its curved-in ends brushing the high velvet collar of
+his coat--and so on down his shapely body to his shapely feet. Never had
+she seen him so adorable--and he was all her own, and for life!
+
+As for our dear St. George Temple, who had never taken his eyes off
+them, he thought they were the goodliest pair the stars ever shone upon,
+and this his happiest night. There would be no more stumbling after
+this. Kate had the bridle well in hand now; all she needed was a clear
+road, and that was ahead of both horse and rider.
+
+“Makes your blood jump in your veins, just to look at them, doesn't
+it, Talbot?” cried St. George to Harry's father when Kate
+disappeared--laying his hand as he spoke on the shoulder of the man with
+whom he had grown up from a boy. “Is there anything so good as the love
+of a good woman?--the wise old prophet places her beyond the price of
+rubies.”
+
+“Only one thing, St. George--the love of a good man--one like yourself,
+you dear old fellow. And why the devil you haven't found that out years
+ago is more than I can understand. Here you are my age, and you might
+have had a Kate and Harry of your own by this time, and yet you live a
+stupid old--”
+
+“No, I won't hear you talk so, colonel!” cried a bride of a year. “Uncle
+George is never stupid, and he couldn't be old. What would all these
+young girls do--what would I have done” (another love affair with St.
+George as healer and mender!)--“what would anybody have done without
+him? Come, Miss Lavinia--do you hear the colonel abusing Uncle George
+because he isn't married? Speak up for him--it's wicked of you, colonel,
+to talk so.”
+
+Miss Lavinia Clendenning, who was one of St. George's very own, in spite
+of her forty-odd years, threw back her head until the feathers in her
+slightly gray hair shook defiantly:
+
+“No--I won't say a word for him, Sue. I've given him up forever. He's a
+disgrace to everybody who knows him.”
+
+“Oh, you renegade!” exclaimed St. George in mock alarm.
+
+“Yes,--a positive disgrace! He'll never marry anybody, Sue, until he
+marries me. I've begged him on my knees until I'm tired, to name the
+day, and he won't! Just like all you shiftless Marylanders, sir--never
+know when to make up your minds.”
+
+“But you threw me over, Lavinia, and broke my heart,” laughed Temple
+with a low bow, his palms flattened against his waistcoat in assumed
+humility.
+
+“When?”
+
+“Oh, twenty years ago.”
+
+“Oh, my goodness gracious! Of course I threw you over then;--you were
+just a baby in arms and I was old enough to be your mother--but now it's
+different. I'm dying to get married and nobody wants me. If you were a
+Virginian instead of a doubting Marylander, you would have asked me a
+hundred times and kept on asking until I gave in. Now it's too late.
+I always intended to give in, but you were so stupid you couldn't or
+wouldn't understand.”
+
+“It's never too late to mend, Lavinia,” he prayed with hands extended.
+
+“It's too late to mend you, St. George! You are cracked all over, and as
+for me--I'm ready to fall to pieces any minute. I'm all tied up now with
+corset laces and stays and goodness knows what else. No--I'm done with
+you.”
+
+While this merry badinage was going on, the young people crowding the
+closer so as not to lose a word, or making room for the constant stream
+of fresh arrivals on their way toward the dressing-rooms above, their
+eyes now and then searching the top of the stairs in the hope of getting
+the first glimpse of Kate, our heroine was receiving the final touches
+from her old black mammy. It took many minutes. The curl must be
+adjusted, the full skirts pulled out or shaken loose, the rare jewels
+arranged before she was dismissed with--“Dah, honey chile, now go-long.
+Ain't nary one on 'em ain't pizen hongry for ye--any mos' on 'em 'll
+drown derselves 'fo' mawnin' becos dey can't git ye.”
+
+She is ready now, Harry beside her, her lace scarf embroidered with pink
+rosebuds floating from her lovely shoulders, her satin skirt held firmly
+in both hands that she might step the freer, her dainty silk stockings
+with the ribbons crossed about her ankles showing below its edge.
+
+But it was the colonel who took possession of her when she reached the
+floor of the great hall, and not her father nor her lover.
+
+“No, Harry--stand aside, sir. Out with you! Kate goes in with me!
+Seymour, please give your arm to Mrs. Rutter.” And with the manner of a
+courtier leading a princess into the presence of her sovereign, the
+Lord of Moorlands swept our Lady of Kennedy Square into the brilliant
+drawing-room crowded with guests.
+
+
+It was a great ball and it was a great ballroom--in spaciousness, color,
+and appointments. No one had ever dreamed of its possibilities before,
+although everybody knew it was the largest in the county. The gentle
+hostess, with old Alec as head of the pulling-out-and-moving-off
+department, had wrought the change. All the chairs, tables, sofas, and
+screens, little and big, had either been spirited away or pushed back
+against the wall for tired dancers. Over the wide floor was stretched
+a linen crash; from the ceiling and bracketed against the white walls,
+relieved here and there by long silken curtains of gold-yellow, blazed
+clusters of candles, looking for all the world like so many bursting
+sky-rockets, while at one end, behind a mass of flowering plants, sat a
+quartette of musicians, led by an old darky with a cotton-batting head,
+who had come all the way from Philadelphia a-purpose.
+
+Nor had the inner man been forgotten: bowls of hot apple toddy steamed
+away in the dining-room; bowls of eggnog frothed away in the library;
+ladlings of punch, and the contents of several old cut-glass decanters,
+flanked by companies of pipe-stem glasses, were being served in the
+dressing-rooms; while relays of hot terrapin, canvas-back duck, sizzling
+hot; olio, cold joints; together with every conceivable treatment and
+condition of oysters--in scallop shells, on silver platters and
+in wooden plates--raw, roasted, fried, broiled, baked, and
+stewed--everything in fact that could carry out the colonel's watchword,
+“Eat, drink, and be merry,” were within the beck and call of each and
+every guest.
+
+And there were to be no interludes of hunger and thirst if the host
+could help it. No dull pauses nor recesses, but one continued round,
+lasting until midnight, at which hour the final banquet in the
+dining-room was to be served, and the great surprise of the evening
+reached--the formal announcement of Harry and Kate's engagement,
+followed by the opening of the celebrated bottle of the Jefferson 1800
+Monticello Madeira, recorked at our young hero's birth.
+
+And it goes without saying that there were no interludes. The fun began
+at once, a long line of merry talk and laughter following the wake of
+the procession, led by the host and Kate, the colonel signalling at last
+to the cotton-batting with the goggle spectacles, who at once struck up
+a polka and away they all went, Harry and Kate in the lead, the whole
+room in a whirl.
+
+This over and the dancers out of breath, Goggles announced a
+quadrille--the colonel and St. George helping to form the sets. Then
+followed the schottische, then another polka until everybody was tired
+out, and then with one accord the young couples rushed from the hot
+room, hazy with the dust of lint from the linen crash, and stampeded for
+the cool wide stairs that led from the great hall. For while in summer
+the shadows on some vine-covered porch swallowed the lovers, in winter
+the stairs were generally the trysting-place--and the top step the one
+most sought--because there was nobody behind to see. This was the roost
+for which Kate and Harry scampered, and there they intended to sit until
+the music struck up again.
+
+“Oh, Kate, you precious darling, how lovely you look!” burst out Harry
+for the hundredth time when she had nestled down beside him--“and what a
+wonderful gown! I never saw that one before, did I?”
+
+“No--you never have,” she panted, her breath gone from her dance and the
+dash for the staircase. “It's my dear mother's dress, and her scarf too.
+I had very little done to it--only the skirt made wider. Isn't it soft
+and rich? Grandpa used to bring these satins from China.”
+
+“And the pearls--are they the ones you told me about?” He was adjusting
+them to her throat as he spoke--somehow he could not keep his hands from
+her.
+
+“Yes--mother's jewels. Father got them out of his strong-box for me this
+morning. He wanted me to wear them to-night. He says I can have them all
+now. She must have been very beautiful, Harry--and just think, dear--she
+was only a few years older than I am when she died. Sometimes when I
+wear her things and get to thinking about her, and remember how young
+and beautiful she was and how unhappy her life, it seems as if I must
+be unhappy myself--somehow as if it were not right to have all this
+happiness when she had none.” There was a note of infinite pathos in her
+voice--a note one always heard when she spoke of her mother. Had Harry
+looked deeper into her eyes he might have found the edges of two tears
+trembling on their lids.
+
+“She never was as beautiful as you, my darling--nobody ever was--nobody
+ever could be!” he cried, ignoring all allusion to her mother. Nothing
+else counted with the young fellow to-night--all he knew and cared for
+was that Kate was his very own, and that all the world would soon know
+it.
+
+“That's because you love me, Harry. You have only to look at her
+portrait in father's room to see how exquisite she was. I can never be
+like her--never so gracious, so patient, no matter how hard I try.”
+
+He put his fingers on her lips: “I won't have you say it. I won't let
+anybody say it. I could hardly speak when I saw you in the full light of
+the hall. It was so dark in the coach I didn't know how you looked, and
+I didn't care; I was so glad to get hold of you. But when your cloak
+slipped from your shoulders and you--Oh!--you darling Kate!” His eye
+caught the round of her throat and the taper of her lovely arm--“I am
+going to kiss you right here--I will--I don't care who--”
+
+She threw up her hands with a little laugh. She liked him the better for
+daring, although she was afraid to yield.
+
+“No--NO--Harry! They will see us--don't--you mustn't!”
+
+“Mustn't what! I tell you, Kate, I am going to kiss you--I don't care
+what you say or who sees me. It's been a year since I kissed you in
+the coach--forty years--now, you precious Kate, what difference does it
+make? I will, I tell you--no--don't turn your head away.”
+
+She was struggling feebly, her elbow across her face as a shield,
+meaning all the time to raise her lips to his, when her eyes fell on
+the figure of a young man making his way toward them. Instantly her back
+straightened.
+
+“There's Langdon Willits at the bottom of the stairs talking to Mark
+Gilbert,” she whispered in dismay. “See--he is coming up. I wonder what
+he wants.”
+
+Harry gathered himself together and his face clouded. “I wish he was at
+the bottom of the sea. I don't like Willits--I never did. Neither does
+Uncle George. Besides, he's in love with you, and he always has been.”
+
+“What nonsense, Harry,” she answered, opening her fan and waving it
+slowly. She knew her lover was right--knew more indeed than her lover
+could ever know: she had used all the arts of which she was mistress to
+keep Willits from proposing.
+
+“But he IS in love with you,” Harry insisted stiffly. “Won't he be
+fighting mad, though, when he hears father announce our engagement at
+supper?” Then some tone in her voice recalled that night on the sofa
+when she still held out against his pleading, and with it came the
+thought that while she could be persuaded she could never be driven.
+Instantly his voice changed to its most coaxing tones: “You won't dance
+with him, will you, Kate darling? I can't bear to see you in anybody
+else's arms but my own.”
+
+Her hand grasped his wrist with a certain meaning in the pressure.
+
+“Now don't be a goose, Harry. I must be polite to everybody, especially
+to-night--and you wouldn't have me otherwise.”
+
+“Yes, but not to him.”
+
+“But what difference does it make? You are too sensible not to
+understand, and I am too happy, anyway, to want to be rude to anybody.
+And then you should never be jealous of Langdon Willits.”
+
+“Well, then, not a round dance, please, Kate.” He dare not oppose her
+further. “I couldn't stand a round dance. I won't have his arm touch
+you, my darling.” And he bent his cheek close to hers.
+
+She looked at him from under her shadowed lids as she had looked at
+St. George when she greeted him at the foot of the stairs; a gleam
+of coquetry, of allurement, of joy shining through her glances like
+delicate antennae searching to feel where her power lay. Should she
+venture, as her Uncle George had suggested, to take the reins in her
+own hands and guide this restive, mettlesome thoroughbred, or should
+she surrender to him? Then a certain mischievous coquetry possessed her.
+With a light, bubbling laugh she drew her cheek away.
+
+“Yes, any kind of a dance that he or anybody else wants that I can
+give him,” she burst out with a coquettish twist of her head, her eyes
+brimming with fun.
+
+“But I'm on your card for every single dance,” he demanded, his eyes
+again flashing. “Look at it--I filled it up myself,” and he held up his
+own bit of paste-board so she could read the list. “I tell you I won't
+have his arm around you!”
+
+“Well, then, he sha'n't touch even the tips of my fingers, you dreadful
+Mr. Bluebeard.” She had surrendered now. He was never so compelling as
+when determined to have his own way. Again her whole manner changed;
+she was once more the sweetheart: “Don't let us bother about cards, my
+darling, or dances, or anything. Let us talk of how lovely it is to be
+together again. Don't you think so, Harry?” and she snuggled the closer
+to his arm, her soft cheek against his coat.
+
+Before Harry could answer, young Willits, who had been edging his way
+up the stairs two steps at a time, avoiding the skirts of the girls,
+reaching over the knees of the men as he clung to the hand-rail, stood
+on the step below them.
+
+“It's my next dance, Miss Kate, isn't it?” he asked eagerly, scanning
+her face--wondering why she looked so happy.
+
+“What is it to be, Mr. Willits?” she rejoined in perfunctory tones,
+glancing at her own blank card hanging to her wrist: he was the last man
+in the world she wanted to see at this moment.
+
+“The schottische, I think--yes, the schottische,” he replied nervously,
+noticing her lack of warmth and not understanding the cause.
+
+“Oh, I'm all out of breath--if you don't mind,” she continued evasively;
+“we'll wait for the next one.” She dared not invite him to sit down,
+knowing it would make Harry furious--and then again she couldn't stand
+one discordant note to-night--she was too blissfully happy.
+
+“But the next one is mine,” exclaimed Harry suddenly, examining his own
+dancing-card. He had not shifted his position a hair's breadth, nor did
+he intend to--although he had been outwardly polite to the intruder.
+
+“Yes--they'd all be yours, Harry, if you had your way,” this in a thin,
+dry tone--“but you mustn't forget that Miss Kate's free, white, and
+twenty-one, and can do as she pleases.”
+
+Harry's lips straightened. He did not like Willits's manner and he was
+somewhat shocked at his expression; it seemed to smack more of the
+cabin than of the boudoir--especially the boudoir of a princess like his
+precious Kate. He noticed, too, that the young man's face was flushed
+and his utterance unusually rapid, and he knew what had caused it.
+
+“They will be just what Miss Seymour wants them to be, Willits.” The
+words came in hard, gritting tones through half-closed lips, and the
+tightening of his throat muscles. This phase of the Rutter blood was
+dangerous.
+
+Kate was startled. Harry must not lose his self-control. There must be
+no misunderstandings on this the happiest night of her life.
+
+“Yes,” she said sweetly, with a gracious bend of her head--“but I do
+want to dance with Mr. Willits, only I don't know which one to give
+him.”
+
+“Then give me the Virginia reel, Miss Kate, the one that comes just
+before supper, and we can go all in together--you too, Harry,” Willits
+insisted eagerly. “See, Miss Kate--your card is still empty,” and he
+turned toward her the face of the one hanging to her wrist.
+
+“No, never the reel, Kate, that is mine!” burst out Harry determinedly,
+as a final dismissal to Willits. He lowered his voice, and in a
+beseeching tone said--“Father's set his heart on our dancing the reel
+together--please don't give him the reel!”
+
+Kate, intent on restoring harmony, arched her neck coyly, and said in
+her most bewitching tones--the notes of a robin after a shower: “Well,
+I can't tell yet, Mr. Willits, but you shall have one or the other; just
+leave it to me--either the reel or the schottische. We will talk it over
+when I come down.”
+
+“Then it's the reel, Miss Kate, is it not?” he cried, ignoring Harry
+completely, backing away as he retraced his steps, a look of triumph on
+his face.
+
+She shook her head at him, but she did not answer. She wanted to get rid
+of him as quickly as possible. Willits had spoiled everything. She was
+so happy before he came, and Harry was so adorable. She wished now she
+had not drawn away her cheek when he tried to kiss her.
+
+“Don't be angry, Harry, dear,” she pleaded coaxingly, determined to get
+her lover back once more. “He didn't mean anything--he only wanted to be
+polite.”
+
+“He didn't want to be polite,” the angry lover retorted. “He meant to
+force himself in between us; that is what he meant, and he's always at
+it, every chance he gets. He tried it at Mrs. Cheston's the other night
+until I put a stop to it, but there's one thing certain--he'll stop it
+when our engagement is announced after supper or I'll know the reason
+why.”
+
+Kate caught her breath. A new disturbing thought entered her mind.
+It was at Mrs. Cheston's that both Willits and Harry had misbehaved
+themselves, and it was Harry's part in the sequel which she had
+forgiven. The least said about that night the better.
+
+“But he is your guest, Harry,” she urged at last, still determined to
+divert his thoughts from Willits and the loss of the dance--“OUR guest,”
+ she went on--“so is everybody else here to-night, and we must do what
+everybody wants us to, not be selfish about it. Now, my darling--you
+couldn't be impolite to anybody--don't you know you couldn't? Mrs.
+Cheston calls you 'My Lord Chesterfield'--I heard her say so to-night.”
+
+“Yes, I know, Kate”--he softened--“that's what father said about my
+being polite to him--but all the same I didn't want Willits invited, and
+it's only because father insisted that he's here. Of course, I'm
+going to be just as polite to him as I can, but even father would feel
+differently about him if he had heard what he said to you a minute ago.”
+
+“What did he say?” She knew, but she loved to hear him defend her. This,
+too, was a way out--in a minute he would be her old Harry again.
+
+“I won't even repeat it,” he answered doggedly.
+
+“You mean about my being twenty-one? That was rather ungallant, wasn't
+it?”
+
+Again that long look from under her eyelids--he would have succumbed at
+once could he have seen it.
+
+“No, the other part of it. That's not the way to speak to a lady.
+That's what I dislike him for. He never was born a gentleman. He isn't a
+gentleman and never can be a gentleman.”
+
+Kate drew herself up--the unreasonableness of the objection jarred
+upon her. He had touched one of her tender spots--pride of birth was
+something she detested.
+
+“Don't talk nonsense, Harry,” she replied in a slightly impatient voice.
+Moods changed with our Kate as unexpectedly as April showers. “What
+difference should it make to you or anybody else whether Langdon
+Willits's grandmother was a countess or a country girl, so she was
+honest and a lady?” Her head went up with a toss as she spoke, for this
+was one of Kate's pet theories.
+
+“But he's not of my class, Kate, and he shouldn't be here. I told father
+so.”
+
+“Then make him one,” she answered stoutly, “if only for to-night, by
+being extra polite and courteous to him and never letting him feel that
+he is outside of what you call 'your class.' I like Mr. Willits, and
+have always liked him. He is invariably polite to me, and he can be very
+kind and sympathetic at times. Listen! they are calling us, and there
+goes the music--come along, darling--it's a schottische and we'll dance
+it together.”
+
+Harry sprang up, slipped his arm around Kate's waist, lifted her to her
+feet, held her close, and kissed her squarely on the mouth.
+
+“There, you darling! and another one--two--three! Oh, you precious! What
+do I care about Willits or any other red-headed lower county man that
+ever lived? He can have fifty grandmothers if he pleases and I won't say
+a word--kiss me--kiss me again. Quick now or we'll lose the dance,” and,
+utterly oblivious as to whether any one had seen them or not, the two
+raced down the wide stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+
+While all this gayety was going on in the ballroom another and equally
+joyous gathering was besieging the serving tables in the colonel's
+private den--a room leading out of the larger supper room, where he kept
+his guns and shooting togs, and which had been pressed into service for
+this one night.
+
+These thirsty gentlemen were of all ages and tastes, from the young
+men just entering society to the few wrinkled bald-pates whose legs
+had given out and who, therefore, preferred the colonel's Madeira and
+terrapin to the lighter pleasures of the dance.
+
+In and out of the groups, his ruddy, handsome face radiant with the joy
+that welled up in his heart, moved St. George Temple. Never had he been
+in finer form or feather--never had he looked so well--(not all the
+clothes that Poole of London cut came to Moorlands). Something of the
+same glow filtered through him that he had felt on the night when the
+two lovers had settled their difficulties, and he had swung back through
+the park at peace with all the world.
+
+All this could be seen in the way he threw back his head, smiling right
+and left; the way he moved his hands--using them as some men do words or
+their eyebrows--now uplifting them in surprise at the first glimpse
+of some unexpected face, his long delicate fingers outspread in
+exclamations of delight; now closing them tight when he had those of the
+new arrival in his grasp--now curving them, palms up, as he lifted to
+his lips the fingers of a grande dame. “Keep your eyes on St. George,”
+ whispered Mrs. Cheston, who never missed a point in friend or foe and
+whose fun at a festivity often lay in commenting on her neighbors,
+praise or blame being impartially mixed as her fancy was touched. “And
+by all means watch his hands, my dear. They are like the baton of an
+orchestra leader and tell the whole story. Only men whose blood and
+lineage have earned them freedom from toil, or men whose brains throb
+clear to their finger-tips, have such hands. Yes! St. George is very
+happy to-night, and I know why. He has something on his mind that he
+means to tell us later on.”
+
+Mrs. Cheston was right: she generally was--St. George did have something
+on his mind--something very particular on his mind--a little speech
+really which was a dead secret to everybody except prying Mrs.
+Cheston--one which was to precede the uncorking of that wonderful old
+Madeira, and the final announcement of the engagement--a little speech
+in which he meant to refer to their two dear mothers when they were
+girls, recalling traits and episodes forgotten by most, but which from
+their very loveliness had always lingered in his heart and memory.
+
+Before this important event took place, however, there were some matters
+which he intended to look after himself, one of them being the bowl of
+punch and its contiguous beverages in the colonel's den. This seemed to
+be the storm centre to-night, and here he determined, even at the risk
+of offending his host, to set up danger-signals at the first puff of
+wind. The old fellows, if they chose, might empty innumerable ladles
+full of apple toddy or compounds of Santa Cruz rum and pineapples into
+their own persons, but not the younger bloods! His beloved Kate had
+suffered enough because of these roysterers. There should be one ball
+around Kennedy Square in which everybody would behave themselves, and he
+did not intend to mince his words when the time came. He had
+discussed the matter with the colonel when the ball opened, but little
+encouragement came from that quarter.
+
+“So far as these young sprigs are concerned, St. George,” Rutter had
+flashed back, “they must look out for themselves. I can't curtail my
+hospitality to suit their babyships. As for Harry, you're only wasting
+your time. He is made of different stuff--it's not in his blood and
+couldn't be. Whatever else he may become he will never be a sot. Let him
+have his fling: once a Rutter, always a Rutter,” and then, with a ring
+in his voice, “when my son ceases to be a gentleman, St. George, I will
+show him the door, but drink will never do it.”
+
+Dr. Teackle had also been on the alert. He was a young physician just
+coming into practice, many of the younger set being his patients, and
+he often acted as a curb when they broke loose. He, with St. George's
+whispered caution in his ears, had also tried to frame a word of protest
+to the colonel, suggesting in the mildest way that that particular
+bowl of apple toddy be not replenished--but the Lord of the Manor
+had silenced him with a withering glance before he had completed his
+sentence. In this dilemma he had again sought out St. George.
+
+“Look out for Willits, Uncle George. He'll be staggering in among the
+ladies if he gets another crack at that toddy. It's an infernal shame to
+bring these relays of punch in here. I tried to warn the colonel, but he
+came near eating me up. Willits has had very little experience in this
+sort of thing and is mixing his eggnog with everything within his reach.
+That will split his head wide open in the morning.”
+
+“Go and find him, Teackle, and bring him to me,” cried St. George; “I'll
+stay here until you get him. Tell him I want to see him--and Alec”--this
+to the old butler who was skimming past, his hands laden with
+dishes--“don't you bring another drop of punch into this room until you
+see me.”
+
+“But de colonel say dat--”
+
+“--I don't care what the colonel says; if he wants to know why, tell him
+I ordered it. I'm not going to have this night spoiled by any tomfoolery
+of Talbot's, I don't care what he says. You hear me, Alec? Not a drop.
+Take out those half-empty bowls and don't you serve another thimbleful
+of anything until I say so.” Here he turned to the young doctor, who
+seemed rather surprised at St. George's dictatorial air--one rarely
+seen in him. “Yes--brutal, I know, Teackle, and perhaps a little
+ill-mannered, this interfering with another man's hospitality, but if
+you knew how Kate has suffered over this same stupidity you would say I
+was right. Talbot never thinks--never cares. Because he's got a head as
+steady as a town clock and can put away a bottle of port without winking
+an eyelid, he believes anybody else can do the same. I tell you this
+sort of thing has got to stop or sooner or later these young bloods
+will break the hearts of half the girls in town.... Careful! here comes
+Willits--not another word.... Oh, Mr. Willits, here you are! I was
+just going to send for you. I want to talk to you about that mare of
+yours--is she still for sale?” His nonchalance was delightful.
+
+“No, Mr. Temple; I had thought of keeping her, sir,” the young man
+rejoined blandly, greatly flattered at having been specially singled out
+by the distinguished Mr. Temple. “But if you are thinking of buying
+my mare, I should be most delighted to consider it. If you will permit
+me--I will call upon you in the morning.” This last came with elaborate
+effusiveness. “But you haven't a drop of anything to drink, Mr. Temple,
+nor you either, doctor! Egad! What am I thinking of! Come, won't you
+join me? The colonel's mixtures are--”
+
+“Better wait, Mr. Willits,” interrupted St. George calmly and with the
+air of one conversant with the resources of the house. “Alec has just
+taken out a half-emptied bowl of toddy.” He had seen at a glance that
+Teackle's diagnosis of the young man's condition was correct.
+
+“Then let us have a swig at the colonel's port--it's the best in the
+county.”
+
+“No, hold on till the punch comes. You young fellows don't know how to
+take care of your stomachs. You ought to stick to your tipple as you do
+to your sweetheart--you should only have one.”
+
+“--At a time,” laughed Teackle.
+
+“No, one ALL the time, you dog! When I was your age, Mr. Willits, if
+I drank Madeira I continued to drink Madeira, not to mix it up with
+everything on the table.”
+
+“By Jove, you're right, Mr. Temple! I'm sticking to one girl--Miss
+Kate's my girl to-night. I'm going to dance the Virginia reel with her.”
+
+St. George eyed him steadily. He saw that the liquor had already reached
+his head or he would not have spoken of Kate as he did. “Your choice is
+most admirable, Mr. Willits,” he said suavely, “but let Harry have Miss
+Kate to-night,” adding, as he laid his hand confidingly on the young
+man's shoulder--“they were made to step that dance together.”
+
+“But she said she would dance it with me!” he flung back--he did not
+mean to be defrauded.
+
+“Really?” It was wonderful how soft St. George's voice could be. Teackle
+could not have handled a refractory patient the better.
+
+“Well, that is,” rejoined Willits, modified by Temple's tone--“she is to
+let me know--that was the bargain.”
+
+Still another soft cadence crept into St. George's voice: “Well, even
+if she did say she would let you know, do be a little generous. Miss
+Seymour is always so obliging; but she ought really to dance the reel
+with Harry to-night.” He used Kate's full name, but Willits's head was
+buzzing too loudly for him to notice the delicately suggested rebuke.
+
+“Well, I don't see that, and I'm not going to see it, either. Harry's
+always coming in between us; he tried to get Miss Kate away from me a
+little while ago, but he didn't succeed.”
+
+“Noblesse oblige, my dear Mr. Willits,” rejoined St. George in a more
+positive tone. “He is host, you know, and the ball is given to Miss
+Seymour, and Harry can do nothing else but be attentive.” He felt like
+strangling the cub, but it was neither the time nor place--nothing
+should disturb Kate's triumph if he could help it. One way was to keep
+Willits sober, and this he intended to do whether the young man liked it
+or not--if he talked to him all night.
+
+“But it is my dance,” Willits broke out. “You ask him if it isn't my
+dance--he heard what Miss Kate said. Here comes Harry now.”
+
+Like a breath of west wind our young prince blew in, his face radiant,
+his eyes sparkling. He had entirely forgotten the incident on the stairs
+in the rapture of Kate's kisses, and Willits was once more one of the
+many guests he was ready to serve and be courteous to.
+
+“Ah, gentlemen--I hope you have everything you want!” he cried with
+a joyous wave of his hand. “Where will I get an ice for Kate, Uncle
+George? We are just about beginning the Virginia reel and she is so
+warm. Oh, we have had such a lovely waltz! Why are you fellows not
+dancing? Send them in, Uncle George.” He was brimming over with
+happiness.
+
+Willits moved closer: “What did you say? The Virginia reel? Has it
+begun?” His head was too muddled for quick thinking.
+
+“Not yet, Willits, but it will right away--everybody is on the floor
+now,” returned Harry, his eyes in search of something to hold Kate's
+refreshment.
+
+“Then it is my dance, Harry. I thought the reel was to be just before
+supper or I would have hunted Miss Kate up.”
+
+“So it is,” laughed Harry, catching up an empty plate from the serving
+table and moving to where the ices were spread. “You ought to know,
+for you told her yourself. It is about to begin. They were taking their
+partners when I left.”
+
+“Then that's MY reel,” Willits insisted. “You heard what Miss Kate said,
+Harry--that's what I told you too, Mr. Temple,” and he turned to St.
+George for confirmation.
+
+“Oh, but you are mistaken, Langdon,” continued Harry, bending over the
+dish. “She said she would decide later on whether to give you the reel
+or a schottische--and she has. Miss Kate dances this reel with me.”
+ There was a flash in his eye as he spoke, but he was still the host.
+
+“And I suppose you will want the one after supper too,” snapped Willits.
+He had edged closer and was now speaking to Harry's bent back.
+
+“Why, certainly, if Miss Kate is willing and wishes it,” rejoined Harry
+simply, still too intent on having the ice reach his sweetheart at the
+earliest possible moment to notice either Willits's condition or his
+tone of voice.
+
+Willits sprang forward just as Harry regained his erect position. “No
+you won't, sir!” he cried angrily. “I've got some rights here and I'm
+going to protect them. I'll ask Miss Kate myself and find out whether I
+am to be made a fool of like this,” and before St. George could prevent
+started for the door.
+
+Harry dropped the plate on the table and blocked the enraged man's exit
+with his outstretched arm. He was awake now--wide awake--and to the
+cause.
+
+“You'll do nothing of the kind, Langdon--not in your present state. Pull
+yourself together, man! Miss Seymour is not accustomed to be spoken of
+in that way and you know it. Now don't be foolish--stay here with Uncle
+George and the doctor until you cool down. There are the best of reasons
+why I should dance the reel with Miss Kate, but I can't explain them
+now.”
+
+“Neither am I, Mr. Harry Rutter, accustomed to be spoken to in that way
+by you or anybody else. I don't care a rap for your explanations. Get
+out of my way, or you'll be sorry,” and he sprang one side and flung
+himself out of the room before Harry could realize the full meaning of
+his words.
+
+St. George saw the flash in the boy's eyes, and stretching out his hand
+laid it on Harry's arm.
+
+“Steady, my boy! Let him go--Kate will take care of him.”
+
+“No! I'll take care of him!--and now!” He was out of the room and the
+door shut behind him before Temple could frame a reply.
+
+St. George shot an anxious, inquiring look at Teackle, who nodded his
+head in assent, and the two hurried from the room and across the expanse
+of white crash, Willits striding ahead, Harry at his heels, St. George
+and the doctor following close behind.
+
+Kate stood near the far door, her radiant eyes fixed on Harry's
+approaching figure--the others she did not see. Willits reached her
+first:
+
+“Miss Kate, isn't this my dance?” he burst out--“didn't you promise me?”
+
+Kate started and for a moment her face flushed. If she had forgotten
+any promise she had made it certainly was not intentional. Then her mind
+acted. There must be no bad blood here--certainly not between Harry and
+Willits.
+
+“No, not quite that, Mr. Willits,” she answered in her sweetest voice,
+a certain roguish coquetry in its tones. “I said I'd think it over, and
+you never came near me, and so Harry and I are--”
+
+“But you DID promise me.” His voice could be heard all over the
+room--even the colonel, who was talking to a group of ladies, raised
+his head to listen, his companions thinking the commotion was due to the
+proper arranging of the dance.
+
+Harry's eyes flashed; angry blood was mounting to his cheeks. He was
+amazed at Willits's outburst.
+
+“You mean to contradict Miss Kate! Are you crazy, Willits?”
+
+“No, I am entirely sane,” he retorted, an ugly ring in his voice.
+
+Everybody had ceased talking now. Good-natured disputes over the young
+girls were not uncommon among the young men, but this one seemed to have
+an ominous sound. Colonel Rutter evidently thought so, for he had now
+risen from his seat and was crossing the room to where Harry and the
+group stood.
+
+“Well, you neither act nor talk as if you were sane,” rejoined Harry
+in cold, incisive tones, inching his way nearer Kate, as if to be the
+better prepared to defend her.
+
+Willits's lip curled. “I am not beholden to you, sir, for my conduct,
+although I can be later on for my words. Let me see your dancing-card,
+Miss Kate,” and he caught it from her unresisting hand. “There--what did
+I tell you!” This came with a flare of indignation. “It was a blank when
+I saw it last and you've filled it in, sir, of your own accord!” Here he
+faced Harry. “That's your handwriting--I'll leave it to you, Mr. Temple,
+if it isn't his handwriting.”
+
+Harry flushed scarlet and his eyes blazed as he stepped toward the
+speaker. Kate shrank back in alarm--she had read Harry's face and knew
+what was behind it.
+
+“Take that back, Langdon--quick! You are my guest, but you mustn't say
+things like that here. I put my name on the card because Miss Kate asked
+me to. Take it back, sir--NOW!--and then make an humble apology to Miss
+Seymour.
+
+“I'll take back nothing! I've been cheated out of a dance. Here--take
+her--and take this with her!” and he tore Kate's card in half and threw
+the pieces in his host's face.
+
+With the spring of a cat, Harry lunged forward and raised his arm as
+if to strike Willits in the face: Willits drew himself up to his full
+height and confronted him: Kate shrivelled within herself, all the color
+gone from her cheeks. Whether to call out for help or withdraw quietly,
+was what puzzled her. Both would concentrate the attention of the whole
+room on the dispute.
+
+St. George, who was boiling with indignation and disgust, but still cool
+and himself, pushed his way into the middle of the group.
+
+“Not a word, Harry,” he whispered in low, frigid tones. “This can be
+settled in another way.” Then in his kindest voice, so loud that all
+could hear--“Teackle, will you and Mr. Willits please meet me in the
+colonel's den--that, perhaps, is the best place after all to straighten
+out these tangles. I'll join you there as soon as I have Miss Kate
+safely settled.” He bent over her: “Kate, dear, perhaps you had better
+sit alongside of Mrs. Rutter until I can get these young fellows
+cooled off”--and in a still lower key--“you behaved admirably, my
+girl--admirably. I'm proud of you. Mr. Willits has had too much to
+drink--that is what is the matter with him, but it will be all over in a
+minute--and, Harry, my boy, suppose you help me look up Teackle,” and he
+laid his hand with an authoritative pressure on the boy's arm.
+
+The colonel had by this time reached the group and stood trying to catch
+the cue. He had heard the closing sentence of St. George's instructions,
+but he had missed the provocation, although he had seen Harry's uplifted
+fist.
+
+“What's the matter, St. George?” he inquired nervously.
+
+“Just a little misunderstanding, Talbot, as to who was to dance with our
+precious Kate,” St. George answered with a laugh, as he gripped Harry's
+arm the tighter. “She is such a darling that it is as much as I can do
+to keep these young Romeos from running each other through the body,
+they are so madly in love with her. I am thinking of making off with her
+myself as the only way to keep the peace. Yes, you dear girl, I'll
+come back. Hold the music up for a little while, Talbot, until I can
+straighten them all out,” and with his arm still tight through Harry's,
+the two walked the length of the room and closed the far door behind
+them.
+
+Kate looked after them and her heart sank all the lower. She knew the
+feeling between the two men, and she knew Harry's hot, ungovernable
+temper--the temper of the Rutters. Patient as he often was, and
+tender-hearted as he could be, there flashed into his eyes now and then
+something that frightened her--something that recalled an incident
+in the history of his house. He had learned from his gentle mother
+to forgive affronts to himself; she had seen him do it many times,
+overlooking what another man would have resented, but an affront to
+herself or any other woman was a different matter: that he would never
+forgive. She knew, too, that he had just cause to be offended, for in
+all her life no one had ever been so rude to her. That she herself was
+partly to blame only intensified her anxiety. Willits loved her, for he
+had told her so, not once, but several times, although she had answered
+him only with laughter. She should have been honest and not played the
+coquette: and yet, although the fault was partly her own, never had she
+been more astonished than at his outburst. In all her acquaintance with
+him he had never lost his temper. Harry, of course, would lay it to
+Willits's lack of breeding--to the taint in his blood. But she knew
+better--it was the insanity produced by drink, combined with his
+jealousy of Harry, which had caused the gross outrage. If she had only
+told Willits herself of her betrothal and not waited to surprise him
+before the assembled guests, it would have been fairer and spared every
+one this scene.
+
+All these thoughts coursed through her mind as with head still proudly
+erect she crossed the room on the colonel's arm, to a seat beside
+her future mother-in-law, who had noticed nothing, and to whom not a
+syllable of the affair would have been mentioned, all such matters being
+invariably concealed from the dear lady.
+
+Old Mrs. Cheston, however, was more alert; not only had she caught the
+anger in Harry's eyes, but she had followed the flight of the torn
+card as its pieces fell to the floor. She had once been present at a
+reception given by a prime minister when a similar fracas had occurred.
+Then it was a lady's glove and not a dancing-card which was thrown in a
+rival's face, and it was a rapier that flashed and not a clenched fist.
+
+“What was the matter over there, Talbot?” she demanded, speaking from
+behind her fan when the colonel came within hearing.
+
+“Nothing! Some little disagreement about who should lead the Virginia
+reel with Kate. I have stopped the music until they fix it up.”
+
+“Don't talk nonsense, Talbot Rutter, not to me. There was bad blood over
+there--you better look after them. There'll be trouble if you don't.”
+
+The colonel tucked the edge of a rebellious ruffle inside his
+embroidered waistcoat and with a quiet laugh said: “St. George is
+attending to them.”
+
+“St. George is as big a fool as you are about such things. Go, I tell
+you, and see what they are doing in there with the door shut.”
+
+“But, my dear Mrs. Cheston,” echoed her host with a deprecating wave of
+his hand--“my Harry would no more attack a man under his own roof than
+you would cut off your right hand. He's not born that way--none of us
+are.”
+
+“You talk like a perfect idiot, Talbot!” she retorted angrily. “You seem
+to have forgotten everything you knew. These young fellows here are so
+many tinder boxes. There will be trouble I tell you--go out there and
+find out what is going on,” she reiterated, her voice increasing
+in intensity. “They've had time enough to fix up a dozen Virginia
+reels--and besides, Kate is waiting, and they know it. Look! there's
+some one coming out--it's that young Teackle. Call him over here and
+find out!”
+
+The doctor, who had halted at the door, was now scrutinizing the faces
+of the guests as if in search of some one. Then he moved swiftly to
+the far side of the room, touched Mark Gilbert, Harry's most intimate
+friend, on the shoulder, and the two left the floor.
+
+Kate sat silent, a fixed smile on her face that ill concealed her
+anxiety. She had heard every word of the talk between Mrs. Cheston and
+the colonel, but she did not share the old lady's alarm as to any actual
+conflict. She would trust Uncle George to avoid that. But what kept
+Harry? Why leave her thus abruptly and send no word back? In her dilemma
+she leaned forward and touched the colonel's arm.
+
+“You don't think anything is the matter, dear colonel, do you?”
+
+“With whom, Kate?”
+
+“Between Harry and Mr. Willits. Harry might resent it--he was very
+angry.” Her lips were quivering, her eyes strained. She could hide
+her anxiety from her immediate companions, but the colonel was Harry's
+father.
+
+The colonel turned quickly: “Resent it here! under his own roof, and the
+man his guest? That is one thing, my dear, a Rutter never violates,
+no matter what the provocation. I have made a special exception in
+Mr. Willits's favor to-night and Harry knows it. It was at your dear
+father's request that I invited the young fellow. And then again, I hear
+the most delightful things about his own father, who though a plain man
+is of great service to his county--one of Mr. Clay's warmest adherents.
+All this, you see, makes it all the more incumbent that both my son and
+myself should treat him with the utmost consideration, and, as I have
+said, Harry understands this perfectly. You don't know my boy; I would
+disown him, Kate, if he laid a hand on Mr. Willits--and so should you.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+
+When Dr. Teackle shut the door of the ballroom upon himself and Mark
+Gilbert the two did not tarry long in the colonel's den, which was still
+occupied by half a dozen of the older men, who were being beguiled by a
+relay of hot terrapin that Alec had just served. On the contrary, they
+continued on past the serving tables, past old Cobden Dorsey, who was
+steeped to the eyes in Santa Cruz rum punch; past John Purviance, and
+Gatchell and Murdoch, smacking their lips over the colonel's Madeira,
+dived through a door leading first to a dark passage, mounted to a short
+flight of steps leading to another dark passage, and so on through a
+second door until they reached a small room level with the ground. This
+was the colonel's business office, where he conducted the affairs of the
+estate--a room remote from the great house and never entered except
+on the colonel's special invitation and only then when business of
+importance necessitated its use.
+
+That business of the very highest importance--not in any way connected
+with the colonel, though of the very gravest moment--was being enacted
+here to-night, could be seen the instant Teackle, with Gilbert at
+his heels, threw open the door. St. George and Harry were in one
+corner--Harry backed against the wall. The boy was pale, but perfectly
+calm and silent. On his face was the look of a man who had a duty to
+perform and who intended to go through with it come what might. On the
+opposite side of the room stood Willits with two young men, his most
+intimate friends. They had followed him out of the ballroom to learn the
+cause of his sudden outburst, and so far had only heard Willits's
+side of the affair. He was now perfectly sober and seemed to feel
+his position, but he showed no fear. On the desk lay a mahogany case
+containing the colonel's duelling pistols. Harry had taken them from his
+father's closet as he passed through the colonel's den.
+
+St. George turned to the young doctor. His face was calm and thoughtful,
+and he seemed to realize fully the gravity of the situation.
+
+“It's no use, Teackle,” St. George said with an expressive lift of his
+fingers. “I have done everything a man could, but there is only one
+way out of it. I have tried my best to save Kate from every unhappiness
+to-night, but this is something much more important than woman's tears,
+and that is her lover's honor.”
+
+“You mean to tell me, Uncle George, that you can't stop this!” Teackle
+whispered with some heat, his eyes strained, his lips twitching. Here
+he faced Harry. “You sha'n't go on with this affair, I tell you, Harry.
+What will Kate say? Do you think she wants you murdered for a foolish
+thing like this!--and that's about what will happen.”
+
+The boy made no reply, except to shake his head. He knew what Kate would
+say--knew what she would do, and knew what she would command him to do,
+could she have heard Willits's continued insults in this very room but
+a moment before while St. George was trying to make him apologize to his
+host and so end the disgraceful incident.
+
+“Then I'll go and bring in the colonel and see what he can do!” burst
+out Teackle, starting for the door. “It's an outrage that--”
+
+“You'll stay here, Teackle,” commanded St. George--“right where you
+stand! This is no place for a father. Harry is of age.”
+
+“But what an ending to a night like this!”
+
+“I know it--horrible!--frightful!--but I would rather see the boy lying
+dead at my feet than not defend the woman he loves.” This came in a
+decisive tone, as if he had long since made up his mind to this phase of
+the situation.
+
+“But Langdon is Harry's guest,” Teackle pleaded, dropping his voice
+still lower to escape being heard by the group at the opposite end
+of the room--“and he is still under his roof. It is never done--it is
+against the code. Besides”--and his voice became a whisper--“Harry never
+levelled a pistol at a man in his life, and this is not Langdon's first
+meeting. We can fix it in the morning. I tell you we must fix it.”
+
+Harry, who had been listening quietly, reached across the table, picked
+up the case of pistols, handed it to Gilbert, whom he had chosen as his
+second, and in a calm, clear, staccato tone--each word a bullet rammed
+home--said:
+
+“No--Teackle, there will be no delay until to-morrow. Mr. Willits has
+forfeited every claim to being my guest and I will fight him here and
+now. I could never look Kate in the face, nor would she ever speak to
+me again, if I took any other course. You forget that he virtually told
+Kate she lied,” and he gazed steadily at Willits as if waiting for the
+effect of his shot.
+
+St. George's eyes kindled. There was the ring of a man in the boy's
+words. He had seen the same look on the elder Rutter's face in a similar
+situation twenty years before. As a last resort he walked toward where
+Willits stood conferring with his second.
+
+“I ask you once more, Mr. Willits”--he spoke in his most courteous
+tones (Willits's pluck had greatly raised him in his estimation)--“to
+apologize like a man and a gentleman. There is no question in my mind
+that you have insulted your host in his own house and been discourteous
+to the woman he expects to marry, and that the amende honorable should
+come from you. I am twice your age and have had many experiences of this
+kind, and I would neither ask you to do a dishonorable thing nor would I
+permit you to do it if I could prevent it. Make a square, manly apology
+to Harry.”
+
+Willits gazed at him with a certain ill-concealed contempt on his face.
+He was at the time loosening the white silk scarf about his throat in
+preparation for the expected encounter. He evidently did not believe a
+word of that part of the statement which referred to Harry's engagement.
+If Kate had been engaged to Harry she would have told him so.
+
+“You are only wasting your time, Mr. Temple,” he answered with an
+impatient lift of his chin as he stripped his coat from his broad
+shoulders. “You have just said there is only one way to settle this--I
+am ready--so are my friends. You will please meet me outside--there is
+plenty of firelight under the trees, and the sooner we get through this
+the better. The apology should not come from me, and will not. Come,
+gentlemen,” and he stepped out into the now drizzling night, the glare
+of the torches falling on his determined face and white shirt as he
+strode down the path followed by his seconds.
+
+Seven gentlemen hurriedly gathered together, one a doctor and another in
+full possession of a mahogany case containing two duelling pistols with
+their accompanying ammunition, G. D. gun caps, powder-horn, swabs and
+rammers, and it past eleven o'clock at night, would have excited but
+little interest to the average darky--especially one unaccustomed to the
+portents and outcomes of such proceedings.
+
+Not so Alec, who had absorbed the situation at a glance. He had
+accompanied his master on two such occasions--one at Bladensburg and the
+other on a neighboring estate, when the same suggestive tokens had been
+visible, except that those fights took place at daybreak, and after
+every requirement of the code had been complied with, instead of under
+the flare of smoking pine torches and within a step of the contestant's
+front door. He had, besides, a most intimate knowledge of the contents
+of the mahogany case, it being part of his duty to see that these
+defenders of the honor of all the Rutters--and they had been in frequent
+use--were kept constantly oiled and cleaned. He had even cast some
+bullets the month before under the colonel's direction. That he was
+present to-night was entirely due to the fact that having made a short
+cut to the kitchen door in order to hurry some dishes, he had by the
+merest chance, and at the precise psychological moment, run bump up
+against the warlike party just before they had reached the duelling
+ground. This was a well-lighted path but a stone's throw from the porch,
+and sufficiently hidden by shrubbery to be out of sight of the ballroom
+windows.
+
+The next moment the old man was in full cry to the house. He had heard
+the beginning of the trouble while he was carrying out St. George's
+orders regarding the two half-emptied bowls of punch and understood
+exactly what was going to happen, and why.
+
+“Got de colonel's pistols!” he choked as he sped along the gravel walk
+toward the front door the quicker to reach the ballroom--“and Marse
+Harry nothin' but a baby! Gor-a-Mighty! Gor-a-Mighty!” Had they all been
+grown-ups he might not have minded--but his “Marse Harry,” the child he
+brought up, his idol--his chum!--“Fo' Gawd, dey sha'n't kill 'im--dey
+sha'n't!--DEY SHA'N'T!!”
+
+He had reached the porch now, swung back the door, and with a sudden
+spring--it was wonderful how quick he moved--had dashed into the
+ballroom, now a maze of whirling figures--a polka having struck up to
+keep everybody occupied until the reel was finally made up.
+
+“Marse Talbot!--Marse Talbot!” All domestic training was cast aside, not
+a moment could be lost--“All on ye!--dey's murder outside--somebody go
+git de colonel!--Oh, Gawd!--somebody git 'im quick!”
+
+Few heard him and nobody paid any attention to his entreaties; nor
+could anybody, when they did listen, understand what he wanted--the men
+swearing under their breath, the girls indignant that he had blocked
+their way. Mrs. Rutter, who had seen his in-rush, sat aghast. Had Alec,
+too, given way, she wondered--old Alec who had had full charge of the
+wine cellar for years! But the old man pressed on, still shouting, his
+voice almost gone, his eyes bursting from his head.
+
+“Dey's gwineter murder Marse Harry--I seen 'em! Oh!--whar's de colonel!
+Won't somebody please--Oh, my Gawd!--dis is awful! Don't I tell ye dey's
+gwineter kill Marse Harry!”
+
+Mrs. Cheston, sitting beside Kate, was the only one who seemed to
+understand.
+
+“Alec!” she called in her imperious voice--“Alec!--come to me at once!
+What is the matter?”
+
+The old butler shambled forward and stood trembling, the tears streaming
+down his cheeks.
+
+“Yes, mum--I'm yere! Oh, can't ye git de colonel--ain't nobody else'll
+do--”
+
+“Is it a duel?”
+
+“Yes, mum! I jes' done see 'em! Dey's gwineter kill my Marse Harry!”
+
+Kate sprang up. “Where are they?” she cried, shivering with fear. The
+old man's face had told the story.
+
+“Out by de greenhouse--dey was measurin' off de groun'--dey's got de
+colonel's pistols--you kin see 'em from de winder!”
+
+In an instant she had parted the heavy silk curtains and lifted the
+sash. She would have thrown herself from it if Mrs. Cheston had not held
+her, although it was but a few feet from the ground.
+
+“Harry!” she shrieked--an agonizing shriek that reverberated through
+the ballroom, bringing everybody and everything to a stand-still. The
+dancers looked at each other in astonishment. What had happened? Who had
+fainted?
+
+The colonel now passed through the room. He had been looking after the
+proper handling of the famous Madeira, and had just heard that Alec
+wanted him, and was uncertain as to the cause of the disturbance. A
+woman's scream had reached his ears, but he did not know it was Kate's
+or he would have quickened his steps.
+
+Again Kate's voice pierced the room:
+
+“Harry! HARRY!”--this time in helpless agony. She had peered into the
+darkness made denser by the light rain, and had caught a glimpse of a
+man standing erect without his coat, the light of the torches bringing
+his figure into high relief--whose she could not tell, the bushes were
+so thick.
+
+The colonel brushed everybody aside and pulled Kate, half fainting, into
+the room. Then he faced Mrs. Cheston.
+
+“What has happened?” he asked sharply. “What is going on outside?”
+
+“Just what I told you. Those fools are out there trying to murder each
+other!”
+
+Two shots in rapid succession rang clear on the night air.
+
+The colonel stood perfectly still. No need to tell him now what had
+happened, and worse yet, no need to tell him what WOULD happen if
+he showed the slightest agitation. He was a cool man, accustomed to
+critical situations, and one who never lost his head in an emergency.
+Only a few years before he had stopped a runaway hunter, with a girl
+clinging to a stirrup, by springing straight at the horse's head and
+bringing them both to the ground unhurt. It only required the same
+instantaneous concentration of all his forces, he said to himself, as
+he gazed into old Alec's terror-stricken face framed by the open window.
+Once let the truth be known and the house would be in a panic--women
+fainting, men rushing out, taking sides with the combatants, with
+perhaps other duels to follow--Mrs. Rutter frantic, the ball suddenly
+broken up, and this, too, near midnight, with most of his guests ten
+miles and more from home.
+
+Murmurs of alarm were already reaching his ears: What was it?--who had
+fainted?--did the scream come from inside or outside the room?--what was
+the firing about?
+
+He turned to allay Kate's anxiety, but she had cleared the open window
+at a bound and was already speeding toward where she had seen the
+light on the man's shirt. For an instant he peered after her into the
+darkness, and then, his mind made up, closed the sash with a quick
+movement, flung together the silk curtains and raised his hand to
+command attention.
+
+“Keep on with the dance, my friends; I'll go and find out what has
+happened--but it's nothing that need worry anybody--only a little burnt
+powder. Alec, go and tell Mr. Grant, the overseer, to keep better order
+outside. In the meantime let everybody get ready for the Virginia reel;
+supper will be served in a few minutes. Will you young gentlemen please
+choose your partners, and will some one of you kindly ask the music to
+start up?”
+
+Slowly, and quite as if he had been called to the front door to welcome
+some belated guest, he walked the length of the room preceded by Alec,
+who, agonized at his master's measured delay, had forged ahead to open
+the door. This closed and they out of sight, the two hurried down the
+path.
+
+Willits lay flat on the ground, one arm stretched above his head. He
+had measured his full length, the weight of his shoulder breaking some
+flower-pots as he fell. Over his right eye gaped an ugly wound from
+which oozed a stream of blood that stained his cheek and throat. Dr.
+Teackle, on one knee, was searching the patient's heart, while Kate, her
+pretty frock soiled with mud, her hair dishevelled, sat crouched in the
+dirt rubbing his hands--sobbing bitterly--crying out whenever Harry,
+who was kneeling beside her, tried to soothe her:--“No!--No!--My heart's
+broken--don't speak to me--go away!”
+
+The colonel, towering above them, looked the scene over, then he
+confronted Harry, who had straightened to his feet on seeing his father.
+
+“A pretty piece of work--and on a night like this! A damnable piece of
+work, I should say, sir!... Has he killed him, Teackle?”
+
+The young doctor shook his head ominously.
+
+“I cannot tell yet--his heart is still beating.”
+
+St. George now joined the group. He and Gilbert and the other seconds
+had, in order to maintain secrecy, been rounding up the few negroes who
+had seen the encounter, or who had been attracted to the spot by the
+firing.
+
+“Harry had my full consent, Talbot--there was really nothing else to do.
+Only an ounce of cold lead will do in some cases, and this was one of
+them.” He was grave and deliberate in manner, but there was an infinite
+sadness in his voice.
+
+“He did--did he?” retorted the colonel bitterly. “YOUR full consent!
+YOURS! and I in the next room!” Here he beckoned to one of the negroes
+who, with staring eyeballs, stood gazing from one to the other. “Come
+closer, Eph--not a whisper, remember, or I'll cut the hide off your back
+in strips. Tell the others what I say--if a word of this gets into the
+big house or around the cabins I'll know who to punish. Now two or three
+of you go into the greenhouse, pick up one of those wide planks, and
+lift this gentleman onto it so we can carry him. Take him into my
+office, doctor, and lay him on my lounge. He'd better die there than
+here. Come, Kate--do you go with me. Not a syllable of this, remember,
+Kate, to Mrs. Rutter, or anybody else. As for you, sir”--and he looked
+Harry squarely in the face--“you will hear from me later on.”
+
+With the same calm determination, he entered the ballroom, walked to the
+group forming the reel, and, with a set smile on this face indicating
+how idle had been everybody's fears, said loud enough to be heard by
+every one about him:
+
+“Only one of the men, my dear young people, who has been hurt in the
+too careless use of some firearms. As to dear Kate--she has been
+so upset--she happened unfortunately to see the affair from the
+window--that she has gone to her room and so you must excuse her for a
+little while. Now everybody keep on with the dance.”
+
+With his wife he was even more at ease. “The same old root of all evil,
+my dear,” he said with a dry laugh--“too much peach brandy, and this
+time down the wrong throats--and so in their joy they must celebrate by
+firing off pistols and wasting my good ammunition,” an explanation
+which completely satisfied the dear lady--peach brandy being capable of
+producing any calamity, great or small.
+
+But this would not do for Mrs. Cheston. She was a woman who could be
+trusted and who never, on any occasion, lost her nerve. He saw from the
+way she lifted her eyebrows in inquiry, instead of framing her question
+in words, that she fully realized the gravity of the situation. The
+colonel looked at her significantly, made excuse to step in front of
+her, his back to the room, and with his forefinger tapping his forehead,
+whispered:
+
+“Willits.”
+
+The old lady paled, but she did not change her expression.
+
+“And Harry?” she murmured in return.
+
+The colonel kept his eyes upon her, but he made no answer. A hard, cold
+look settled on his face--one she knew--one his negroes feared when he
+grew angry.
+
+Again she repeated Harry's name, this time in alarm:
+
+“Quick!--tell me--not killed?”
+
+“No--I wish to God he were!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+
+The wounded man lay on a lounge in the office room, which was dimly
+lighted by the dying glow of the outside torches and an oil lamp
+hurriedly brought in. No one was present except St. George, Harry, the
+doctor, and a negro woman who had brought in some pillows and hot water.
+All that could be done for him had been done; he was unconscious and his
+life hung by a thread. Harry, now that the mysterious thing called his
+“honor” had been satisfied, was helping Teackle wash the wound prior to
+an attempt to probe for the ball.
+
+The boy was crying quietly--the tears streaming unbidden down his
+cheeks--it was his first experience at this sort of thing. He had been
+brought up to know that some day it might come and that he must then
+face it, but he had never before realized the horror of what might
+follow. And yet he had not reached the stage of regret; he was sorry for
+the wounded man and for his suffering, but he was not sorry for his own
+share in causing it. He had only done his duty, and but for a stroke of
+good luck he and Willits might have exchanged places. Uncle George had
+expressed his feelings exactly when he said that only a bit of cold lead
+could settle some insults, and what insult could have been greater than
+the one for which he had shot Willits? What was a gentleman to do? Go
+around meeting his antagonist every day?--the two ignoring each other?
+Or was he to turn stable boy, and pound him with his fists?--or, more
+ridiculous still, have him bound over to keep the peace, or bring an
+action for--Bah!--for what?--Yes--for what? Willits hadn't struck
+him, or wounded him, or robbed him. It had been his life or Willits's.
+No--there was no other way--couldn't be any other way. Willits knew
+it when he tore up Kate's card--knew what would follow. There was no
+deception--nothing underhand. And he had got precisely what he deserved,
+sorry as he felt for his sufferings.
+
+Then Kate's face rose before him--haunted him. Why hadn't she seen
+it this way? Why had she refused to look at him--refused to answer
+him--driven him away from her side, in fact?--he who had risked his life
+to save her from insult! Why wouldn't she allow him to even touch
+her hand? Why did she treat Willits--drunken vulgarian as he
+was--differently from the way she had treated him? She had broken off
+her engagement with him because he was drunk at Mrs. Cheston's ball,
+where nobody had been hurt but himself, and here she was sympathizing
+with another drunken man who had not only outraged all sense of decency
+toward her, but had jeopardized the life of her affianced husband who
+defended her against his insults; none of which would have happened had
+the man been sober. All this staggered him.
+
+More astounding still was her indifference. She had not even asked if he
+had escaped unhurt, but had concentrated all her interest upon the
+man who had insulted her. As to his own father's wrath--that he had
+expected. It was his way to break out, and this he knew would continue
+until he realized the enormity of the insult to Kate and heard how he
+and St. George had tried to ward off the catastrophe. Then he would not
+only change his opinion, but would commend him for his courage.
+
+Outside the sick-room such guests as could be trusted were gathered
+together in the colonel's den, where they talked in whispers. All agreed
+that the ladies and the older men must be sent home as soon as possible,
+and in complete ignorance of what had occurred. If Willits lived--of
+which there was little hope--his home would be at the colonel's until
+he fully recovered, the colonel having declared that neither expense nor
+care would be spared to hasten his recovery. If he died, the body would
+be sent to his father's house later on.
+
+With this object in view the dance was adroitly shortened, the supper
+hurried through, and within an hour after midnight the last carriage and
+carryall of those kept in ignorance of the duel had departed, the only
+change in the programme being the non-opening of the rare old bottle
+of Madeira and the announcement of Harry's and Kate's engagement--an
+omission which provoked little comment, as it had been known to but few.
+
+Kate remained. She had tottered upstairs holding on to the hand-rail
+and had thrown herself on a bed in the room leading out of the
+dressing-room, where she lay in her mud-stained dress, the silken
+petticoat torn and bedraggled in her leap from the window. She was
+weeping bitterly, her old black mammy sitting beside her trying to
+comfort her as best she could.
+
+With the departure of the last guest--Mr. Seymour among them; the
+colonel doing the honors; standing bare-headed on the porch, his face
+all smiles as he bade them good-by--the head of the house of Rutter
+turned quickly on his heel, passed down the corridor, made his way along
+the long narrow hall, and entered his office, where the wounded man lay.
+Harry, the negro woman, and Dr. Teackle alone were with him.
+
+“Is there any change?” he asked in a perfectly even voice. Every vestige
+of the set smile of the host had left his face. Harry he did not even
+notice.
+
+“Not much--he is still alive,” replied the doctor.
+
+“Have you found the ball?”
+
+“No--I have not looked for it--I will presently.”
+
+The colonel moved out a chair and sat down beside the dying man, his
+eyes fixed on the lifeless face. Some wave of feeling must have swept
+through him, for after a half-stifled sigh, he said in a low voice, as
+if to himself:
+
+“This will be a fine story to tell his father, won't it?--and here
+too--under my roof. My God!--was there ever anything more disgraceful!”
+ He paused for a moment, his eyes still on the sufferer, and then went
+on--this time to the doctor--“His living so long gives me some hope--am
+I right, Teackle?”
+
+The doctor nodded, but he made no audible reply. He had bent closer to
+the man's chest and was at the moment listening intently to the labored
+breathing, which seemed to have increased.
+
+Harry edged nearer to the patient, his eyes seeking for some move of
+life. All his anger had faded. Willits, his face ablaze with drink and
+rage, his eyes flashing, his strident voice ringing out--even Kate's
+shocked, dazed face, no longer filled his mind. It was the suffering
+man--trembling on the verge of eternity, shot to death by his own
+ball--that appealed to him. And then the suddenness of it all--less than
+an hour had passed since this tall, robust young fellow stood before him
+on the stairs, hanging upon every word that fell from Kate's lips--and
+here he lay weltering in his own blood.
+
+Suddenly his father's hopeful word to the doctor sounded in his ears.
+Suppose, after all, Willits SHOULD get well! Then Kate would understand
+and forgive him! As this thought developed in his mind his spirits
+rose. He scanned the sufferer the more intently, straining his neck,
+persuading himself that a slight twitching had crossed the dying man's
+face. Almost instantaneously the doctor rose to his feet.
+
+“Quick, Harry!--hand me that brandy! It's just as I hoped--the ball has
+ploughed outside the skull--the brain is untouched. It was the shock
+that stunned him. Leave the room everybody--you too, colonel--he'll come
+to in a minute and must not be excited.”
+
+Harry sprang from his chair, a great surge of thankfulness rising in
+his heart, caught up the decanter, filled a glass and pressed it to the
+sufferer's lips. The colonel sat silent and unmoved. He had seen too
+many wounded men revive and then die to be unduly excited. That Willets
+still breathed was the only feature of his case that gave him any hope.
+
+Harry shot an inquiring glance at his father, and receiving only a cold
+stare in return, hurried from the room, his steps growing lighter as he
+ran. Kate must hear the good news and with the least possible delay. He
+would not send a message--he would go himself; then he could explain and
+relieve her mind. She would listen to his pleading. It was natural she
+should have been shocked. He himself had been moved to sympathy by the
+sufferer's condition--how much more dreadful, then, must have been the
+sight of the wounded man lying there among the flower-pots to a woman
+nurtured so carefully and one so sensitive in spirit! But it was all
+over--Willits would live--there would be a reconciliation--everything
+would be forgiven and everything forgotten.
+
+All these thoughts crowded close in his mind as he rushed up the stairs
+two steps at a time to where his sweetheart lay moaning out her heart.
+He tapped lightly and her old black mammy opened the door on a crack.
+
+“It's Marse Harry, mistis,” she called back over her shoulder--“shall I
+let him come in?”
+
+“No!--no!--I don't want to see him; I don't want to see anybody--my
+heart is broken!” came the reply in half-stifled sobs.
+
+Harry, held at bay, rested his forehead against the edge of the door so
+his voice could reach her the better.
+
+“But Willits isn't going to die, Kate dear. I have just left him; it's
+only a scalp wound. Dr. Teackle says he's all right. The shock stunned
+him into unconsciousness.”
+
+“Oh, I don't care what Dr. Teackle says! It's you, Harry!--You! You
+never once thought of me--Oh, why did you do it?”
+
+“I did think of you, Kate! I never thought of anything else--I am not
+thinking of anything else now.”
+
+“Oh, to think you tried to murder him! You, Harry--whom I loved so!” she
+sobbed.
+
+“It was for you, Kate! You heard what he said--you saw it all. It was
+for you--for nobody else--for you, my darling! Let me come in--let me
+hold you close to me and tell you.”
+
+“No!--NO--NO! My heart is broken! Come to me, mammy!”
+
+The door shut gently and left him on the outside, dazed at the outcry,
+his heart throbbing with tenderness and an intense, almost ungovernable
+impulse to force his way into the room, take her in his arms, and
+comfort her.
+
+The closed door brought him to his senses. To-morrow, after all, would
+be better, he confessed to himself humbly. Nothing more could be done
+to-night. Yes--to-morrow he would tell her all. He turned to descend the
+stairs and ran almost into Alec's arms. The old man was trembling with
+excitement and seemed hardly able to control himself. He had come in
+search of him, and had waited patiently at Kate's door for the outcome
+of the interview, every word of which he had overheard.
+
+“Marse Talbot done sont me fer ye, Marse Harry,” he said in a low voice;
+“he wants ye in his li'l' room. Don't ye take no notice what de young
+mistis says; she ain't griebin' fer dat man. Dat Willits blood ain't no
+'count, nohow; dey's po' white trash, dey is--eve'ybody knows dat. Let
+Miss Kate cry herse'f out; dat's de on'y help now. Mammy Henny'll look
+arter her till de mawnin'”--to none of which did Harry make answer.
+
+When they reached the bottom step leading to the long hall the old man
+stopped and laid his hand on his young master's shoulder. His voice was
+barely audible and two tears stood in his eyes.
+
+“Don't you take no notice ob what happens to-night, son,” he whispered.
+“'Member ye kin count on ol' Alec. Ain't neber gwineter be nothin' come
+'twixt me an' you, son. I ain't neber gwineter git tired lovin' ye--you
+won't fergit dat, will ye?”
+
+“No, Alec, but Mr. Willits will recover. Dr. Teackle has just said so.”
+
+“Oh, dat ain't it, son--it's you, Marse Harry. Don't let 'em down
+ye--stand up an' fight 'em back.”
+
+Harry patted the old servant tenderly on the arm to calm his fears. His
+words had made but little impression on him. If he had heard them at all
+he certainly did not grasp their import. What he was wanted for he could
+not surmise--nor did he much care. Now that Kate had refused to see him
+he almost wished that Willits's bullet had found its target.
+
+“Where did you say my father was, Alec?” he asked in a listless voice.
+
+“In his li'l' room, son; dey's all in dar, Marse George Temple, Mister
+Gilbert--dem two gemmans who stood up wid Mister Willits--dey's all
+dar. Don't mind what dey say, honey--jes' you fall back on ol' Alec. I
+dassent go in; maybe I'll be yere in de pantry so ye kin git hold o' me.
+I'se mos' crazy, Marse Harry--let me git hold oh yo' hand once mo', son.
+Oh, my Gawd!--dey sha'n't do nothin' to ye!”
+
+The boy took the old man's hand in his, patted it gently and resumed his
+walk. The least said the better when Alec felt like this. It was Kate's
+voice that pierced his ears--Kate's sobs that wrenched his heart: “You
+never thought of me!” Nothing else counted.
+
+Harry turned the handle of the door and stepped boldly in, his head
+erect, his eyes searching the room. It was filled with gentlemen, some
+sitting, some standing; not only those who had taken part in the duel,
+but three or four others who were in possession of the secret that lay
+heavy on everybody's mind.
+
+He looked about him: most of the candles had burned low in the socket;
+some had gone out. The few that still flickered cast a dim, ghostly
+light. The remains of the night's revel lay on the larger table and the
+serving tables:--a half empty silver dish of terrapin, caked over with
+cold grease; portion of a ham with the bone showing; empty and partly
+filled glasses and china cups from which the toddies and eggnog had
+been drunk. The smell of rum and lemons intermingled with the smoke of
+snuffed-out candle wicks greeted his nostrils--a smell he remembered for
+years and always with a shudder.
+
+There had evidently been a heated discussion, for his father was walking
+up and down the room, his face flushed, his black eyes blazing with
+suppressed anger, his plum-colored coat unbuttoned as if to give him
+more breathing space, his silk scarf slightly awry. St. George Temple
+must have been the cause of his wrath, for the latter's voice was
+reverberating through the room as Harry stepped in.
+
+“I tell you, Talbot, you shall not--you DARE not!” St. George was
+exclaiming, his voice rising in the intensity of his indignation. His
+face was set, his eyes blazing; all his muscles taut. He stood like an
+avenging knight guarding some pathway. Harry looked on in amazement--he
+had never seen his uncle like this before.
+
+The colonel wheeled about suddenly and raised his clenched hand. He
+seemed to be nervously unstrung and for a moment to have lost his
+self-control.
+
+“Stop, St. George!” he thundered. “Stop instantly! Not another word, do
+you hear me? Don't strain a friendship that has lasted from boyhood or
+I may forget myself as you have done. No man can tell me what I shall
+or shall not do when my honor is at stake. Never before has a Rutter
+disgraced himself and his blood. I am done with him, I tell you!”
+
+“But the man will get well!” hissed St. George, striding forward and
+confronting him. “Teackle has just said so--you heard him; we all heard
+him!”
+
+“That makes no difference; that does not relieve my son.”
+
+Rutter had now become aware of Harry's presence. So had the others, who
+turned their heads in the boy's direction, but no one spoke. They had
+not the lifelong friendship that made St. George immune, and few of them
+would have dared to disagree with Talbot Rutter in anything.
+
+“And now, sir”--here the colonel made a step towards where Harry stood,
+the words falling as drops of water fall on a bared head--“I have
+sent for you to tell you just what I have told these gentlemen. I have
+informed them openly because I do not wish either my sense of honor or
+my motives to be misunderstood. Your performances to-night have been so
+dastardly and so ill-bred as to make it impossible for me ever to live
+under the same roof with you again.” Harry started and his lips parted
+as if to speak, but he made no sound. “You have disgraced your blood and
+violated every law of hospitality. Mr. Willits should have been as safe
+here as you would have been under his father's roof. If he misbehaved
+himself you could have ordered his carriage and settled the affair next
+day, as any gentleman of your standing would have done. I have sent for
+a conveyance to take you wherever you may wish to go.” Then, turning to
+St. George, “I must ask you, Temple, to fill my place and see that these
+gentlemen get their proper carriages, as I must join Mrs. Rutter, who
+has sent for me. Good-night,” and he strode from the room.
+
+Harry stared blankly into the faces of the men about him: first at St.
+George and then at the others--one after another--as if trying to read
+what was passing in their minds. No one spoke or moved. His father's
+intentions had evidently been discussed before the boy's arrival and
+the final denunciation had, therefore, been received with less of the
+deadening effect than it had produced on himself. Nor was it a surprise
+to old Alec, who despite his fears had followed Harry noiselessly into
+the room, and who had also overheard the colonel's previous outbreak as
+to his intended disposition of his young master.
+
+St. George, who during the outburst had stood leaning against the
+mantel, his eyes riveted on Harry, broke the silence.
+
+“That, gentlemen,” he exclaimed, straightening to his feet, one hand
+held high above his head, “is the most idiotic and unjust utterance that
+ever fell from Talbot Rutter's lips! and one he will regret to his dying
+day. This boy you all know--most of you have known him from childhood,
+and you know him, as I do, to be the embodiment of all that is brave
+and truthful. He is just of age--without knowledge of the world, his
+engagement to Kate Seymour, as some of you are aware, was to be made
+known to-night. Willits was drunk or he would not have acted as he did.
+I saw it coming and tried to stop him. That he was drunk was Rutter's
+own fault, with his damned notions of drowning everybody in drink
+every minute of the day and night. I saw the whole affair and heard the
+insult, and it was wholly unprovoked. Harry did just what was right, and
+if he hadn't I'd either have made Willits apologize or I would have shot
+him myself the moment the affair could have been arranged, no
+matter where we were. I know perfectly well”--here he swept his eyes
+around--“that there is not a man in this room who does not feel as I do
+about Rutter's treatment of this boy, and so I shall not comment further
+upon it.” He dropped his clenched hand and turned to Harry, his voice
+still clear and distinct but with a note of tenderness through it. “And
+now, that pronunciamentos are in order, my boy, here is one which has
+less of the Bombastes Furioso in it than the one you have just listened
+to--but it's a damned sight more humane and a damned sight more
+fatherly, and it is this:--hereafter you belong to me--you are my son,
+my comrade, and, if I ever have a dollar to give to any one, my heir.
+And now one thing more, and I don't want any one of you gentlemen within
+sound of my voice ever to forget it: When hereafter any one of you
+reckon with Harry you will please remember that you reckon with me.”
+
+He turned suddenly. “Excuse me one moment, gentlemen, and I will then
+see that you get your several carriages. Alec!--where's Alec?”
+
+The old darky stepped out of the shadow. “I'm yere, sah.”
+
+“Alec, go and tell Matthew to bring my gig to the front porch--and be
+sure you see that your young master's heavy driving-coat is put inside.
+Mr. Harry spends the night with me.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+
+The secrecy enjoined upon everybody conversant with the happenings at
+Moorlands did not last many hours. At the club, across dinner tables, at
+tea, on the street, and in the libraries of Kennedy Square, each
+detail was gone over, each motive discussed. None of the facts were
+exaggerated, nor was the gravity of the situation lightly dismissed.
+Duels were not so common as to blunt the sensibilities. On the contrary,
+they had begun to be generally deplored and condemned, a fact largely
+due to the bitterness resulting from a famous encounter which had taken
+place a year or so before between young Mr. Cocheran, the son of a rich
+landowner, and Mr. May--the circumstances being somewhat similar, the
+misunderstanding having arisen at a ball in Washington over a reigning
+belle, during which Mr. May had thrown his card in Cocheran's face. In
+this instance all the requirements of the code were complied with.
+The duel was fought in an open space behind Nelson's Hotel, near the
+Capitol, Mr. Cocheran arriving at half-past five in the morning in a
+magnificent coach drawn by four white horses, his antagonist reaching
+the grounds in an ordinary conveyance, the seconds and the two surgeons
+on horseback. Both fired simultaneously, with the result that May
+escaped unhurt, while Cocheran was shot through the head and instantly
+killed.
+
+Public opinion, indeed, around Kennedy Square, was, if the truth be
+told, undergoing many and serious changes. For not only the duel but
+some other of the traditional customs dear to the old regime were
+falling into disrepute--especially the open sideboards, synonymous
+with the lavish hospitality of the best houses. While most of the older
+heads, brought up on the finer and rarer wines, knew to a glass the
+limit of their endurance, the younger bloods were constantly losing
+control of themselves, a fact which was causing the greatest anxiety
+among the mothers of Kennedy Square.
+
+This growing antipathy had been hastened and solidified by another
+tragedy quite as widely discussed as the Cocheran and May duel--more so,
+in fact, since this particular victim of too many toddies had been the
+heir of one of the oldest residents about Kennedy Square--a brilliant
+young surgeon, self-exiled because of his habits, who had been thrown
+from his horse on the Indian frontier--an Iowa town, really--shattering
+his leg and making its amputation necessary. There being but one other
+man in the rough camp who had ever seen a knife used--and he but a
+student--the wounded surgeon had directed the amputation himself, even
+to the tying of the arteries and the bandages and splints. Only then did
+he collapse. The hero--and he was a hero to every one who knew of his
+coolness and pluck, in spite of his recognized weakness--had returned to
+his father's house on Kennedy Square on crutches, there to consult some
+specialists, the leg still troubling him. As the cripple's bedroom was
+at the top of the first flight of stairs, the steps of which--it being
+summer--were covered with China matting, he was obliged to drag himself
+up its incline whenever he was in want of something he must fetch
+himself. One of these necessities was a certain squat bottle like those
+which had graced the old sideboards. Half a dozen times a day would he
+adjust his crutches, their steel points preventing his slipping, and
+mount the stairs to his room, one step at a time.
+
+Some months after, when the matting was taken up, the mother took her
+youngest boy--he was then fifteen--to the steps:
+
+“Do you see the dents of your brother's crutches?--count them. Every one
+was a nail in his coffin.” They were--for the invalid died that winter.
+
+These marked changes in public opinion, imperceptible as they had been
+at first, were gradually paving the way, it may be said, for the dawn
+of that new order of things which only the wiser and more farsighted
+men--men like Richard Horn--were able to discern. While many of the old
+regime were willing to admit that the patriarchal life, with the negro
+as the worker and the master as the spender, had seen its best days, but
+few of them, at the period of these chronicles, realized that the genius
+of Morse, Hoe, and McCormick, and a dozen others, whose inventions were
+just beginning to be criticised, and often condemned, were really the
+chief factors in the making of a new and greater democracy: that the
+cog, the drill, the grate-bar, and the flying shuttle would ere long
+supplant the hoe and the scythe; and that when the full flood of this
+new era was reached their old-time standards of family pride, reckless
+hospitality, and even their old-fashioned courtesy would well-nigh be
+swept into space. The storm raised over this and the preceding duel had
+they but known it, was but a notch in the tide-gauge of this flood.
+
+“I understand, St. George, that you could have stopped that disgraceful
+affair the other night if you had raised your hand,” Judge Pancoast
+had blurted out in an angry tone at the club the week following. “I did
+raise it, judge,” replied St. George, calmly drawing off his gloves.
+
+“They don't say so--they say you stood by and encouraged it.”
+
+“Quite true,” he answered in his dryest voice. “When I raised my hand it
+was to drop my handkerchief. They fired as it fell.”
+
+“And a barbarous and altogether foolish piece of business, Temple.
+There is no justification for that sort of thing, and if Rutter wasn't
+a feudal king up in his own county there would be trouble over it. It's
+God's mercy the poor fellow wasn't killed. Fine beginning, isn't it, for
+a happy married life?”
+
+“Better not have any wife at all, judge, than wed a woman whose good
+name you are afraid to defend with your life. There are some of us who
+can stand anything but that, and Harry is built along the same lines. A
+fine, noble, young fellow--did just right and has my entire confidence
+and my love. Think it over, judge,” and he strolled into the card-room,
+picked up the morning paper, and buried his face in its columns, his
+teeth set, his face aflame with suppressed disgust at the kind of blood
+running in the judge's veins.
+
+The colonel's treatment of his son also came in for heated discussion.
+Mrs. Cheston was particularly outspoken. Such quixotic action on the
+ground of safeguarding the rights of a young drunkard like Willits,
+who didn't know when he had had enough, might very well do for a
+self-appointed autocrat like Rutter, she maintained, but some equally
+respectable people would have him know that they disagreed with him.
+
+“Just like Talbot Rutter,” she exclaimed in her outspoken, decided
+way--“no sense of proportion. High-tempered, obstinate as a mule, and
+a hundred years--yes, five hundred years behind his time. And he--could
+have stopped it all too if he had listened to me. Did you ever hear
+anything so stupid as his turning Harry--the sweetest boy who ever
+lived--out of doors, and in a pouring rain, for doing what he would have
+done himself! Oh, this is too ridiculous--too farcical. Why, you can't
+conceive of the absurdity of it all--nobody can! Gilbert was there and
+told me every word of it. You would have thought he was a grand duke or
+a pasha punishing a slave--and the funniest thing about it is that he
+believes he is a pasha. Oh--I have no patience with such contemptible
+family pride, and that's what is at the bottom of it.”
+
+Some of the back county aristocrats, on the other hand--men who lived by
+themselves, who took their cue from Alexander Hamilton, Lee, and Webb,
+and believed in the code as the only means of arbitrating a difficulty
+of any kind between gentlemen--stoutly defended the Lord of Moorlands.
+
+“Rutter did perfectly right to chuck the young whelp out of doors.
+Outrageous, sir--never is done--nothing less than murder. Ought to be
+prosecuted for challenging a man under his own roof--and at night too.
+No toss-up for position, no seconds except a parcel of boys. Vulgar,
+sir--infernally vulgar, sir. I haven't the honor of Colonel Rutter's
+acquaintance--but if I had I'd tell him so--served the brat right--damn
+him!”
+
+Richard Horn was equally emphatic, but in a far different way. Indeed he
+could hardly restrain himself when discussing it.
+
+“I can think of nothing my young boy Oliver would or could do when he
+grows up,” he exclaimed fiercely--his eyes flashing, “which would shut
+him out of his home and his dear mother's care. The duel is a relic of
+barbarism and should be no longer tolerated; it is mob law, really,
+and indefensible, with two persons defying the statutes instead of a
+thousand. But Rutter is the last man in the world to take the stand he
+has, and I sincerely regret his action. There are many bitter days ahead
+of him.”
+
+Nor were the present conditions, aspirations, and future welfare of the
+two combatants, and of the lovely girl over whom they had quarrelled,
+neglected by the gossipers. No day passed without an extended discussion
+of their affairs. Bearers of fresh news were eagerly welcomed both to
+toddy and tea tables.
+
+Old Morris Murdoch, who knew Willits's father intimately, being a strong
+Clay man himself, arrived at one of these functions with the astounding
+information that Willits had called on Miss Seymour, wearing his hat in
+her presence to conceal his much-beplastered head. That he had then
+and there not only made her a most humble apology for his ill-tempered
+outbreak, which he explained was due entirely to a combination of
+egg-and-brandy, with a dash of apple-toddy thrown in, but had declared
+upon his honor as a gentleman that he would never again touch
+the flowing bowl. Whereupon--(and this excited still greater
+astonishment)--the delighted young lady had not only expressed her
+sympathy for his misfortunes, but had blamed herself for what had
+occurred!
+
+Tom Tilghman, a famous cross-country rider, who had ridden in post haste
+from his country seat near Moorlands to tell the tale--as could be seen
+from his boots, which were still covered with mud--boldly asserted of
+his own knowledge that the wounded man, instead of seeking his native
+shore, as was generally believed, would betake himself to the Red
+Sulphur Springs (where Kate always spent the summer)--accompanied by
+three saddle horses, two servants, some extra bandages, and his devoted
+sister, there to regain what was left of his health and strength. At
+which Judge Pancoast had retorted--and with some heat--that Willits
+might take a dozen saddle horses and an equal number of sisters, and
+a bale of bandages if he were so minded, to the Springs, or any other
+place, but he would save time and money if he stayed at home and looked
+after his addled head, as no woman of Miss Seymour's blood and breeding
+could possibly marry a man whose family escutcheon needed polishing as
+badly as did his manners. That the fact--the plain, bold fact--and here
+the judge's voice rose to a high pitch--was that Willits was boiling
+drunk until Harry's challenge sobered him, and that Kate hated
+drunkenness as much as did Harry's mother and the other women who had
+started out to revolutionize society.
+
+What that young lady herself thought of it all not even the best-posted
+gossip in the club dared to venture an opinion. Moreover, such was
+the respect and reverence in which she was held, and so great was the
+sympathy felt for her situation, that she was seldom referred to in
+connection with Harry or the affair except with a sigh, followed by
+a “Too bad, isn't it?--enough to break your heart,” and such like
+expressions.
+
+What the Honorable Prim thought of it all was apparent the next day at
+the club when he sputtered out with:
+
+“Here's a nice mess for a man of my position to find himself in! Do you
+know that I am now pointed out as the prospective father-in-law of a
+young jackanapes who goes about with a glass of grog in one hand and a
+pistol in the other. I am not accustomed to having my name bandied about
+and I won't have it--I live a life of great simplicity, minding my own
+business, and I want everybody else to mind theirs. The whole affair
+is most contemptible and ridiculous and smacks of the tin-armor age.
+Willits should have been led quietly out of the room and put to bed
+and young Rutter should have been reprimanded publicly by his father.
+Disgraceful on a night like that when my daughter's name was on
+everybody's lips.”
+
+After which outburst he had shut himself up in his house, where, so he
+told one of his intimates, he intended to remain until he left for the
+Red Sulphur Springs, which he would do several weeks earlier than was
+his custom--a piece of news which not only confirmed Tom Tilghman's
+gossip, but lifted several eyebrows in astonishment and set one or two
+loose tongues to wagging.
+
+Out at Moorlands, the point of view varied as the aftermath of the
+tragedy developed, the colonel alone pursuing his daily life without
+comment, although deep down in his heart a very maelstrom was boiling
+and seething.
+
+Mrs. Rutter, as fate would have it, on hearing that Kate was too ill
+to go back to town, had gone the next morning to her bedside, where she
+learned for the first time not only of the duel--which greatly shocked
+her, leaving her at first perfectly limp and helpless--but of Harry's
+expulsion from his father's house--(Alec owned the private wire)--a
+piece of news which at first terrified and then keyed her up as tight as
+an overstrung violin. Like many another Southern woman, she might shrink
+from a cut on a child's finger and only regain her mental poise by
+a liberal application of smelling salts, but once touch that boy of
+hers--the child she had nourished and lived for--and all the rage of the
+she-wolf fighting for her cub was aroused. What took place behind the
+closed doors of her bedroom when she faced the colonel and flamed out,
+no one but themselves knew. That the colonel was dumfounded--never
+having seen her in any such state of mind--goes without saying. That he
+was proud of her and liked her the better for it, is also true--nothing
+delighted him so much as courage;--but nothing of all this, impressive
+as it was, either weakened or altered his resolve.
+
+Nor did he change front to his friends and acquaintances: his
+honorable name, he maintained, had been trailed in the mud; his boasted
+hospitality betrayed; his house turned into a common shamble. That his
+own son was the culprit made the pain and mortification the greater, but
+it did not lessen his responsibility to his blood. Had not Foscari, to
+save his honor, in the days of the great republic, condemned his own son
+Jacopo to exile and death? Had not Virginius slain his daughter? Should
+he not protect his own honor as well? Furthermore, was not the young
+man's father a gentleman of standing--a prominent man in the State--a
+friend not only of his own friend, Henry Clay, but of the governor as
+well? He, of course, would not have Harry marry into the family had
+there been a marriageable daughter, but that was no reason why Mr.
+Willits's only son should not be treated with every consideration. He,
+Talbot Rutter, was alone responsible for the honor of his house. When
+your right hand offends you cut it off. His right hand HAD offended him,
+and he HAD cut it off. Away, then, with the spinning of fine phrases!
+
+And so he let the hornets buzz--and they did swarm and buzz and sting.
+As long as his wrath lasted he was proof against their assaults--in fact
+their attacks only confirmed him in his position. It was when all this
+ceased, for few continued to remonstrate with him after they had heard
+his final: “I decline to discuss it with you, madame,” or the more
+significant: “How dare you, sir, refer to my private affairs without my
+permission?”--it was, I say, when all this ceased, and when neither his
+wife, who after her first savage outbreak had purposely held her
+peace, nor any of the servants--not even old Alec, who went about
+with streaming eyes and a great lump in his throat--dared renew their
+entreaties for Marse Harry's return, that he began to reflect on his
+course.
+
+Soon the great silences overawed him--periods of loneliness when he
+sat confronting his soul, his conscience on the bench as judge; his
+affections a special attorney:--silences of the night, in which he would
+listen for the strong, quick, manly footstep and the closing of the door
+in the corridor beyond:--silences of the dawn, when no clatter of
+hoofs followed by a cheery call rang out for some one to take
+Spitfire:--silences of the breakfast table, when he drank his coffee
+alone, Alec tip-toeing about like a lost spirit. Sometimes his heart
+would triumph and he begin to think out ways and means by which the past
+could be effaced. Then again the flag of his pride would be raised aloft
+so that he and all the people could see, and the old hard look would
+once more settle in his face, the lips straighten and the thin fingers
+tighten. No--NO! No assassins for him--no vulgar brawlers--and it was
+at best a vulgar brawl--and this too within the confines of Moorlands,
+where, for five generations, only gentlemen had been bred!
+
+And yet, product as he was of a regime that worshipped no ideals but
+its own; hide-bound by the traditions of his ancestry; holding in secret
+disdain men and women who could not boast of equal wealth and lineage;
+dictatorial, uncontradictable; stickler for obsolete forms and
+ceremonies--there still lay deep under the crust of his pride the heart
+of a father, and, by his standards, the soul of a gentleman.
+
+What this renegade son of his thought of it all; this disturber of his
+father's sleeping and waking hours, was far easier to discover. Dazed as
+Harry had been at the parental verdict and heart-broken as he still was
+over the dire results, he could not, though he tried, see what else he
+could have done. His father, he argued to himself, had shot and killed
+a man when he was but little older than himself, and for an offence much
+less grave than Willits's insult to Kate: he had frequently boasted of
+it, showing him the big brass button that had deflected the bullet and
+saved his life. So had his Uncle George, five years before--not a dead
+man that time, but a lame one--who was still limping around the club and
+very good friends the two, so far as he knew. Why then blame HIM? As
+for the law of hospitality being violated, that was but one of the
+idiosyncrasies of his father, who was daft on hospitality. How could
+Willits be his guest when he was his enemy? St. George had begged the
+wounded man to apologize; if he had done so he would have extended
+his hand and taken him to Kate, who, upon a second apology, would have
+extended her hand, and the incident would have been closed. It was
+Willits's stubbornness and bad breeding, then, that had caused the
+catastrophe--not his own bullet.
+
+Besides no real harm had been done--that is, nothing very serious.
+Willits had gained strength rapidly--so much so that he had sat up the
+third day. Moreover, he had the next morning been carried to one of the
+downstairs bedrooms, where, he understood, Kate had sent her black mammy
+for news of him, and where, later on, he had been visited by both Mrs.
+Rutter and Kate--a most extraordinary condescension on the young girl's
+part, and one for which Willits should be profoundly grateful all the
+days of his life.
+
+Nor had Willits's people made any complaint; nor, so far as he could
+ascertain, had any one connected with either the town or county
+government started an investigation. It was outside the precincts of
+Kennedy Square, and, therefore, the town prosecuting attorney (who
+had heard every detail at the Chesapeake from St. George) had not been
+called upon to act, and it was well known that no minion of the law in
+and about Moorlands would ever dare face the Lord of the Manor in any
+official capacity.
+
+Why, then, had he been so severely punished?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+
+While all this talk filled the air it is worthy of comment that after
+his denunciation of Pancoast's views at the club, St. George never
+again discussed the duel and its outcome. His mind was filled with more
+important things:--one in particular--a burning desire to bring the
+lovers together, no matter at what cost nor how great the barriers. He
+had not, despite his silence, altered a hair-line of the opinion he had
+held on the night he ordered the gig, fastened Harry's heavy coat around
+the young man's shoulders, and started back with him through the rain
+to his house on Kennedy Square; nor did he intend to. This, summed up,
+meant that the colonel was a tyrant, Willits a vulgarian, and Harry a
+hot-headed young knight, who, having been forced into a position where
+he could neither breathe nor move, had gallantly fought his way out.
+
+The one problem that gave him serious trouble was the selection of the
+precise moment when he should make a strategic move on Kate's heart;
+lesser problems were his manner of approaching her and the excuses
+he would offer for Harry's behavior. These not only kept him awake at
+night, but pursued him like an avenging spirit when he sought the quiet
+paths of the old square, the dogs at his heels. The greatest of all
+barriers, he felt assured, would be Kate herself. He had seen enough of
+her in that last interview, when his tender pleading had restored the
+harmonies between herself and Harry, to know that she was no longer the
+child whose sweetness he loved, or the girl whose beauty he was proud
+of--but the woman whose judgment he must satisfy. Nor could he see that
+any immediate change in her mental attitude was likely to occur. Some
+time had now passed since Harry's arrival at his house, and every day
+the boy had begged for admission at Kate's door, only to be denied by
+Ben, the old butler. His mother, who had visited her exiled son almost
+daily, had then called on her, bearing two important pieces of news--one
+being that after hours of pleading Harry had consented to return to
+Moorlands and beg his father's pardon, provided that irate gentleman
+should send for him, and the other the recounting of a message of
+condolence and sympathy which Willits had sent Harry from his sick-bed,
+in which he admitted that he had been greatly to blame. (An admission
+which fairly bubbled out of him when he learned that Harry had assisted
+Teackle in dressing his wound.)
+
+And yet with all this pressure the young girl had held her own. To every
+one outside the Rutter clan she had insisted that she was sorry for
+Harry, but that she could never marry a man whose temper she could
+not trust. She never put this into words in answering the well-meant
+inquiries of such girl friends as Nellie Murdoch, Sue Dorsey, and the
+others; then her eyes would only fill with tears as she begged them not
+to question her further. Nor had she said as much to her father, who on
+one occasion had asked her the plump question--“Do you still intend to
+marry that hot-head?”--to which she had returned the equally positive
+answer--“No, I never shall!” She reserved her full meaning for St.
+George when he should again entreat her--as she knew he would at the
+first opportunity--to forget the past and begin the old life once more.
+
+At the end of the second week St. George had made up his mind as to
+his course; and at the end of the third the old diplomat, who had dared
+defeat before, boldly mounted the Seymour steps. He would appeal to
+Harry's love for her, and all would be well. He had done so before,
+picturing the misery the boy was suffering, and he would try it again.
+If he could only reach her heart through the armor of her reserve she
+would yield.
+
+She answered his cheery call up the stairway in person, greeting him
+silently, but with arms extended, leading him to a seat beside her,
+where she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.
+
+“Harry has tried to see you every day, Kate,” he began, patting her
+shoulders lovingly in the effort to calm her. “I found him under your
+window the other night; he walks the streets by the hour, then he
+comes home exhausted, throws himself on his bed, and lies awake till
+daylight.”
+
+The girl raised her head and looked at him for a moment. She knew
+what he had come for--she knew, too, how sorry he felt for her--for
+Harry--for everybody who had suffered because of this horror.
+
+“Uncle George,” she answered, choking back her tears, speaking slowly,
+weighing each word--“you've known me from a little girl--ever since my
+dear mother died. You have been a big brother to me many, many times and
+I love you for it. If I were determined to do anything that would
+hurt me, and you found it out in time, you would come and tell me so,
+wouldn't you?”
+
+St. George nodded his head in answer, but he did not interrupt. Her
+heart was being slowly unrolled before him, and he would wait until it
+was all bare.
+
+“Now,” she continued, “the case is reversed, and you want me to do
+something which I know will hurt me.”
+
+“But you love him, Kate?”
+
+“Yes--that is the worst part of it all,” she answered with a stifled
+sob--“yes, I love him.” She lifted herself higher on the cushions and
+put her beautiful arms above her head, her eyes looking into space as
+if she was trying to solve the problem of what her present resolve would
+mean to both herself and Harry.
+
+St. George began again: “And you remember how--”
+
+She turned impatiently and dropped one hand until it rested on his own.
+He thought he had never seen her look so lovely and never so unhappy.
+Then she said in pleading tones--her eyes blinded by half-restrained
+tears:
+
+“Don't ask me to REMEMBER, dear Uncle George--help me to forget! You can
+do no kinder thing for both of us.”
+
+“But think of your whole future happiness, Kate--think how important it
+is to you--to Harry--to everybody--that you should not shut him out of
+your life.”
+
+“I have thought! God knows I have thought until sometimes I think I
+shall go mad. He first breaks his promise about drinking and I forgive
+him; then he yields to a sudden impulse and behaves like a mad-man and
+you ask me to forgive him again. He never once thinks of me, nor of my
+humiliation!” Her lips were quivering, but her voice rang clear.
+
+“He thinks of nothing else BUT you,” he pleaded. “Let your heart
+work--don't throw him into the street as his father has done. He loves
+you so.”
+
+“_I_--throw HIM in the street! He has thrown ME--mortified me before
+everybody--behaved like a--No,--I can't--I won't discuss it!”
+
+“May I--”
+
+“No--not another word. I love you too much to let this come between us.
+Let us talk of something else--anything--ANYTHING.”
+
+The whole chart of her heart had been unrolled. Her head and not her
+heart was dominant. He felt, moreover, that no argument of his would
+be of any use. Time might work out the solution, but this he could not
+hasten. Nor, if the truth be told, did he blame her. It was, from
+the girl's point of view, most unfortunate, of course, that the two
+calamities of Harry's drunkenness and the duel had come so close
+together. Perhaps--and for the first time in his life he weakened before
+her tears--perhaps if he had thrown the case of pistols out of the
+window, sent one man to his father and the other back to Kennedy Square,
+it might all have been different--but then again, could this have been
+done, and if it had been, would not all have to be done over again the
+next day? At last he asked hopelessly:
+
+“Have you no message for Harry?”
+
+“None,” she answered resolutely.
+
+“And you will not see him?”
+
+“No--we can never heal wounds by keeping them open.” This came calmly,
+and as if she had made up her mind, and in so determined a tone that he
+saw it meant an end to the interview.
+
+He rose from his seat and without another word turned toward the door.
+She gained her feet slowly, as if the very movement caused her pain; put
+her arms around his neck, kissed him on the cheek, followed him to the
+door, waved her hand to him as she watched him pick his way across the
+square, and threw herself on her lounge in an agony of tears.
+
+
+That night St. George and Harry sat by the smouldering wood fire; the
+early spring days were warm and joyous, but the nights were still cool.
+The boy sat hunched up in his chair, his face drawn into lines from the
+anxiety of the past week; his mind absorbed in the story that St. George
+had brought from the Seymour house. As in all ardent temperaments, these
+differences with Kate, which had started as a spark, had now developed
+into a conflagration which was burning out his heart. His love for Kate
+was not a part of his life--it was ALL of his life. He was ready now for
+any sacrifice, no matter how humiliating. He would go down on his knees
+to his father if she wished it. He would beg Willits's pardon--he would
+abase himself in any way St. George should suggest. He had done what
+he thought was right, and he would do it over again under like
+circumstances, but he would grovel at Kate's feet and kiss the ground
+she stepped on if she required it of him.
+
+St. George, who had sat quiet, examining closely the backs of his finely
+modelled hands as if to find some solution of the difficulty written in
+their delicate articulated curves, heard his outburst in silence.
+Now and then he would call to Todd, who was never out of reach of his
+voice--no matter what the hour--to replenish the fire or snuff the
+candles, but he answered only in nods and monosyllables to Harry. One
+suggestion only of the heart-broken lover seemed to promise any
+result, and that was his making it up with his father as his mother
+had suggested. This wall being broken down, and Willits no longer
+an invalid, perhaps Kate would see matters in a different and more
+favorable light.
+
+“But suppose father doesn't send for me, Uncle George, what will I do
+then?”
+
+“Well, he is your father, Harry.”
+
+“And you think then I had better go home and have it out with him?”
+
+St. George hesitated. He himself would have seen Rutter in Hades before
+he would have apologized to him. In fact his anger choked him so every
+time he thought of the brutal and disgraceful scene he had witnessed
+when the boy had been ordered from his home, that he could hardly get
+his breath. But then Kate was not his sweetheart, much as he loved her.
+
+“I don't know, Harry. I am not his son,” he answered in an undecided
+way. Then something the boy's mother had said rose in his mind: “Didn't
+your mother say that your father's loneliness without you was having its
+effect?--and wasn't her advice to wait until he should send for you?”
+
+“Yes--that was about it.”
+
+“Well, your mother would know best. Put that question to her next time
+she comes in--I'm not competent to answer it. And now let us go to
+bed--you are tired out, and so am I.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+
+Mysterious things are happening in Kennedy Square. Only the very wisest
+men know what it is all about--black Moses for one, who tramps the brick
+walks and makes short cuts through the dirt paths, carrying his tin
+buckets and shouting: “Po' ole Moses--po' ole fellah! O-Y-S-T-E-R-S!
+O-Y-STERS!” And Bobbins, the gardener, who raked up last year's autumn
+leaves and either burned them in piles or spread them on the flower-beds
+as winter blankets. And, of course, Mockburn, the night watchman:
+nothing ever happens in and around Kennedy Square that Mockburn doesn't
+know of. Many a time has he helped various unsteady gentlemen up the
+steps of their houses and stowed them carefully and noiselessly away
+inside, only to begin his rounds again, stopping at every corner to
+drone out his “All's we-l-l!” a welcome cry, no doubt, to the stowaways,
+but a totally unnecessary piece of information to the inhabitants,
+nothing worse than a tippler's tumble having happened in the forty years
+of the old watchman's service.
+
+I, of course, am in the secret of the mysterious happenings and have
+been for more years than I care to admit, but then I go ten better than
+Mockburn. And so would you be in the secret had you watched the process
+as closely as I have done.
+
+It is always the same!
+
+First the crocuses peep out--dozens of crocuses. Then a spread of tulips
+makes a crazy-quilt of a flowerbed; next the baby buds, their delicate
+green toes tickled by the south wind, break into laughter. Then the
+stately magnolias step free of their pods, their satin leaves falling
+from their alabaster shoulders--grandes dames these magnolias! And then
+there is no stopping it: everything is let loose; blossoms of peach,
+cherry, and pear; flowers of syringa--bloom of jasmine, honeysuckle,
+and Virginia creeper; bridal wreath in flowers of white and wistaria in
+festoons of purple.
+
+Then come the roses--millions of roses; on single stalks; in clusters,
+in mobs; rushing over summer-houses, scaling fences, swarming up
+trellises--a riotous, unruly, irresistible, and altogether lovable lot
+these roses when they break loose!
+
+And the birds! What a time they are having--thrush, bobolinks,
+blackbirds, nightingales, woodpeckers, little pee-wees, all fluttering,
+skimming, chirping; bursting their tiny throats for the very joy of
+living. And they are all welcome--and it wouldn't make any difference to
+them if they hadn't been; they would have risked it anyway, so tempting
+are the shady paths and tangled arbors and wide-spreading elms and
+butternuts of Kennedy Square.
+
+Soon the skies get over weeping for the lost winter and dry their eyes,
+and the big, warm, happy sun sails over the tree-tops or drops to sleep,
+tired out, behind the old Seymour house, and the girls come out in their
+white dresses and silk sashes and the gallants in their nankeens and
+pumps and the old life of out-of-doors begins once more.
+
+
+And these are not the only changes that the coming of spring has
+wrought. What has been going on deep down in the tender, expectant
+hearts of root and bulb, eager for expression, had been at work in
+Harry's own temperament. The sunshine of St. George's companionship has
+already had its effect; the boy is thawing out; his shrinking shyness,
+born of his recent trouble, is disappearing like a morning frost. He is
+again seen at the club, going first under St. George's lee and then on
+his own personal footing.
+
+The Chesapeake, so St. George had urged upon him, was the centre of
+news--the headquarters, really, of the town, where not only the current
+happenings and gossip of Kennedy Square were discussed, but that of the
+country at large. While the bald-heads, of course, would be canvassing
+the news from Mexico, which was just beginning to have an ugly look, or
+having it out, hammer and tongs, over the defeat of Henry Clay, to
+which some rabid politicians had never become reconciled, the younger
+gentry--men of Harry's own tastes--would be deploring the poor showing
+the ducks were making, owing to the up-river freshets which had spoiled
+the wild celery; or recounting the doings at Mrs. Cheston's last ball;
+or the terrapin supper at Mr. Kennedy's, the famous writer; or perhaps
+bemoaning the calamity which had befallen some fellow member who had
+just found seven bottles out of ten of his most precious port corked
+and worthless. But whatever the topics, or whoever took sides in their
+discussion, none of it, so St. George argued, could fail to interest a
+young fellow just entering upon the wider life of a man of the world,
+and one, of all others, who needed constant companionship. Then again,
+by showing himself frequently within its walls, Harry would become
+better known and better liked.
+
+That he was ineligible for membership, being years too young, and that
+his continued presence, even as a guest, was against the rules, did not
+count in his case, or if it did count, no member, in view of what the
+lad had suffered, was willing to raise the question. Indeed, St. George,
+in first introducing him, had referred to “my friend, Mr. Rutter,” as
+an “out of town guest,” laughing as he did so, everybody laughing in
+return, and so it had gone at that.
+
+At first Harry had dreaded meeting his father's and his uncle's friends,
+most of whom, he fancied, might be disposed to judge him too harshly.
+But St. George had shut his ears to every objection, insisting that the
+club was a place where a man could be as independent as he pleased, and
+that as his guest he would be entitled to every consideration.
+
+The boy need not have been worried. Almost every member, young and
+old, showed by his manner or some little act of attention that their
+sympathies were with the exile. While a few strait-laced old Quakers
+maintained that it was criminal to blaze away at your fellow-man with
+the firm intention of blowing the top of his head off, and that
+Harry should have been hung had Willits died, there were others more
+discerning--and they were largely in the majority--who stood up for the
+lad however much they deplored the cause of his banishment. Harry, they
+argued, had in his brief career been an unbroken colt, and more or less
+dissipated, but he at least had not shown the white feather. Boy as he
+was, he had faced his antagonist with the coolness of a duellist of a
+score of encounters, letting Willits fire straight at him without so
+much as the wink of an eyelid; and, when it was all over, had been man
+enough to nurse his victim back to consciousness. Moreover--and this
+counted much in his favor--he had refused to quarrel with his irate
+father, or even answer him. “Behaved himself like a thoroughbred, as he
+is,” Dorsey Sullivan, a famous duellist, had remarked in recounting the
+occurrence to a non-witness. “And I must say, sir, that Talbot
+served him a scurvy trick, and I don't care who hears me say it.”
+ Furthermore--and this made a great impression--that rather than
+humiliate himself, the boy had abandoned the comforts of his palatial
+home at Moorlands and was at the moment occupying a small, second-story
+back room (all, it is true, Gentleman George could give him), where he
+was to be found any hour of the day or night that his uncle needed him
+in attendance upon that prince of good fellows.
+
+One other thing that counted in his favor, and this was conclusive with
+the Quakers--and the club held not a few--was that no drop of liquor
+of any kind had passed the boy's lips since the eventful night when St.
+George prepared the way for their first reconciliation.
+
+Summed up, then, whatever Harry had been in the past, the verdict at
+the present speaking was that he was a brave, tender-hearted, truthful
+fellow who, in the face of every temptation, had kept his word.
+Moreover, it was never forgotten that he was Colonel Talbot Rutter's
+only son and heir, so that no matter what the boy did, or how angry the
+old autocrat might be, it could only be a question of time before his
+father must send for him and everything at Moorlands go on as before.
+
+
+It was on one of these glorious never-to-be-forgotten spring days, then,
+a week or more after St. George had given up the fight with Kate--a day
+which Harry remembered all the rest of his life--that he and his uncle
+left the house to spend the afternoon, as was now their custom, at the
+Chesapeake. The two had passed the early hours of the day at the Relay
+House fishing for gudgeons, the dogs scampering the hills, and having
+changed their clothes for something cooler, had entered the park by the
+gate opposite the Temple Mansion, as being nearest to the club; a path
+Harry loved, for he and Kate had often stepped it together--and then
+again, it was the shortest cut to her house.
+
+As the beauty and quiet of the place with its mottling of light and
+shade took possession of him he slackened his pace, lagging a little
+behind his uncle, and began to look about him, drinking in the
+loveliness of the season. The very air breathed tenderness, peace, and
+comfort. Certainly his father's heart must be softening toward him;
+surely his bitterness could not last. No word, it is true, had yet come
+to him from Moorlands, though only the week before his mother had
+been in to see him, bringing him news of his father and what her son's
+absence had meant to every one, old Alec especially. She had not, she
+said, revived the subject of the boy's apology; she had thought it
+better to wait for the proper opportunity, which might come any day,
+but certain it was that his father was most unhappy, for he would shut
+himself up hours at a time in his library, locking the door and refusing
+to open it, no matter who knocked, except to old John Gorsuch, his man
+of business. She had also heard him tossing on his bed at night, or
+walking about his room muttering to himself.
+
+Did these things, he wondered on this bright spring morning, mean a
+final reconciliation, or was he, after all, to be doomed to further
+disappointment? Days had passed since his mother had assured him of this
+change in his father, and still no word had come from him. Had he at
+last altered his mind, or, worse still, had his old obstinacy again
+taken possession of him, hardening his heart so that he would never
+relent? And so, with his mind as checkered as the shadow-flecked path on
+which they stepped, he pursued his way beneath the wide-spreading trees.
+
+When the two had crossed the street St. George's eye rested upon a group
+on the sidewalk of the club. The summer weather generally emptied
+the coffee-room of most of its habitues, sending many of them to the
+easy-chairs on the sprinkled pavement, one or two tipped back against
+the trees, or to the balconies and front steps. With his arm in Harry's
+he passed from one coterie to another in the hope that he might catch
+some word which would be interesting enough to induce him to fill one
+of the chairs, even for a brief half-hour, but nothing reached his
+ears except politics and crops, and he cared for neither. Harding--the
+pessimist of the club--a man who always had a grievance (and this time
+with reason, for the money stringency was becoming more acute every
+day), tried to beguile him into a seat beside him, but he shook
+his head. He knew all about Harding, and wanted none of his kind of
+talk--certainly not to-day.
+
+“Think of it!” he had heard the growler say to Judge Pancoast as he was
+about to pass his chair--“the Patapsco won't give me a cent to move my
+crops, and I hear all the others are in the same fix. You can't get a
+dollar on a house and lot except at a frightful rate of interest. I tell
+you everything is going to ruin. How the devil do you get on without
+money, Temple?” He was spread out in his seat, his legs apart, his fat
+face turned up, his small fox eyes fixed on St. George.
+
+“I don't get on,” remarked St. George with a dry smile. He was still
+standing. “Why do you ask?” Money rarely troubled St. George; such small
+sums as he possessed were hived in this same Patapsco Bank, but the
+cashier had never refused to honor one of his checks as long as he had
+any money in their vaults, and he didn't think they would begin now.
+“Queer question for you to ask, Harding” (and a trifle underbred, he
+thought, one's private affairs not being generally discussed at a club).
+“Why does it interest you?”
+
+“Well, you always say you despise money and yet you seem happy and
+contented, well dressed, well groomed”--here he wheeled St.
+George around to look at his back--“yes, got on one of your London
+coats--Hello, Harry!--glad to see you,” and he held out his hand to
+the boy. “But really, St. George, aren't you a little worried over the
+financial outlook? John Gorsuch says we are going to have trouble, and
+John knows.”
+
+“No”--drawled St. George--“I'm not worried.”
+
+“And you don't think we're going to have another smash-up?” puffed
+Harding.
+
+“No,” said St. George, edging his way toward the steps of the club as
+he spoke. He was now entirely through with Harding; his financial
+forebodings were as distasteful to him as his comments on his clothes
+and bank account.
+
+“But you'll have a julep, won't you? I've just sent John for them. Don't
+go--sit down. Here, John, take Mr. Temple's order for--”
+
+“No, Harding, thank you.” The crushed ice in the glass was no cooler nor
+crisper than St. George's tone. “Harry and I have been broiling in the
+sun all the morning and we are going to go where it is cool.”
+
+“But it's cool here,” Harding called after him, struggling to his feet
+in the effort to detain him. There was really no one in the club he
+liked better than St. George.
+
+“No--we'll try it inside,” and with a courteous wave of his hand and a
+feeling of relief in his heart, he and Harry kept on their way.
+
+He turned to mount the steps when the sudden pushing back of all the
+chairs on the sidewalk attracted his attention. Two ladies were picking
+their way across the street in the direction of the club. These, on
+closer inspection, proved to be Miss Lavinia Clendenning and her niece,
+Sue Dorsey, who had been descried in the offing a few minutes before by
+the gallants on the curbstone, and who at first had been supposed to be
+heading for Mrs. Pancoast's front steps some distance away, until the
+pair, turning sharply, had borne down upon the outside chairs with all
+sails set--(Miss Clendenning's skirts were of the widest)--a shift of
+canvas which sent every man to his feet with a spring.
+
+Before St. George could reach the group, which he did in advance of
+Harry, who held back--both ladies being intimate friends of Kate's--old
+Captain Warfield, the first man to gain his feet--very round and fat was
+the captain and very red in the face (1812 Port)--was saying with his
+most courteous bow:
+
+“But, my dear Miss Lavinia, you have not as yet told us to what we are
+indebted for this mark of your graciousness; and Sue, my dear, you grow
+more like your dear mother every day. Why are you two angels abroad at
+this hour, and what can we do for you?”
+
+“To the simple fact, my dear captain,” retorted the irresistible
+spinster, spreading her skirts the wider, both arms akimbo--her thin
+fingers acting as clothespins, “that Sue is to take her dancing lesson
+next door, and as I can't fly in the second-story window, having mislaid
+my wings, I must use my feet and disturb everybody. No, gentlemen--don't
+move--I can pass.”
+
+The captain made so profound a salaam in reply that his hat grazed the
+bricks of the sidewalk.
+
+“Let me hunt for them, Miss Lavinia. I know where they are!” he
+exclaimed, with his hand on his heart.
+
+“Where?” she asked roguishly, twisting her head on one side with the
+movement of a listening bird.
+
+“In heaven, my lady, where they are waiting your arrival,” he answered,
+with another profound sweep of his hand and dip of his back, his bald
+head glistening in the sunlight as he stooped before her.
+
+“Then you will never get near them,” she returned with an equally low
+curtsy and a laugh that nearly shook her side curls loose.
+
+St. George was about to step the closer to take a hand in the
+badinage--he and the little old maid were forever crossing swords--when
+her eyes fell upon him. Instantly her expression changed. She was one of
+the women who had blamed him for not stopping the duel, and had been on
+the lookout for him for days to air her views in person.
+
+“So you are still in town, are you?” she remarked frigidly in lowered
+tones. “I thought you had taken that young firebrand down to the Eastern
+Shore to cool off.”
+
+St. George frowned meaningly in the effort to apprise her ladyship that
+Harry was within hearing distance, but Miss Lavinia either did not, or
+would not, understand.
+
+“Two young boobies, that's what they are, breaking their hearts over
+each other,” she rattled on, gathering the ends of her cape the closer.
+“Both of them ought to be spanked and put to bed. Get them into each
+other's arms just as quick as you can. As for Talbot Rutter, he's the
+biggest fool of the three, or was until Annie Rutter got hold of him.
+Now I hear he is willing to let Harry come back, as if that would do any
+good. It's Kate who must be looked after; that Scotch blood in her
+veins makes her as pig-headed as her father. No--I don't want your arm,
+sir--get out of my way.”
+
+If the courtiers heard--and half of them did--they neither by word
+or expression conveyed that fact to Harry or St. George. It was not
+intended for their ears, and, therefore, was not their property. With
+still more profound salutations from everybody, the three bareheaded men
+escorted them to the next stoop, the fourth going ahead to see that the
+door was properly opened, and so the ladies passed on, up and inside
+the house. This over, the group resumed its normal condition on the
+sidewalk, the men regaining their seats and relighting their cigars (no
+gentleman ever held one in evidence when ladies were present)--fresh
+orders being given to the servants for the several interrupted mixtures
+with which the coterie were wont to regale themselves.
+
+Harry, who had stood with shoulders braced against a great tree on
+the sidewalk, had heard every word of the old maid's outburst, and an
+unrestrained burst of joy had surged up in his heart. His father was
+coming round! Yes--the tide was turning--it would not be long before
+Kate would be in his arms!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+
+St. George held no such sanguine view, although he made no comment.
+In fact the outbreak had rather depressed him. He knew something of
+Talbot's stubbornness and did not hope for much in that direction, nor,
+if the truth be told, did he hope much in Kate's. Time alone could heal
+her wounds, and time in the case of a young girl, mistress of herself,
+beautiful, independent, and rich, might contain many surprises.
+
+It was with a certain sense of relief, therefore, that he again sought
+the inside of the club. Its restful quiet would at least take his
+mind from the one subject which seemed to pursue him and which Miss
+Clendenning's positive and, as he thought, inconsiderate remarks had so
+suddenly revived.
+
+Before he had reached the top step his face broke out into a broad
+smile. Instantly his spirits rose. Standing in the open front door,
+with outstretched hand, was the man of all others he would rather have
+seen--Richard Horn, the inventor.
+
+“Ah, St. George, but I'm glad to see you!”, cried Richard. “I have been
+looking for you all the afternoon and only just a moment ago got sight
+of you on the sidewalk. I should certainly have stepped over to
+your house and looked you up if you hadn't come. I've got the most
+extraordinary thing to read to you that you have ever listened to in the
+whole course of your life. How well you look, and what a fine color you
+have, and you too, Harry. You are in luck, my boy. I'd like to stay a
+month with Temple myself.”
+
+“Make it a year, Richard,” cried St. George, resting his hand
+affectionately on the inventor's shoulder. “There isn't a chair in
+my house that isn't happier when you sit in it. What have you
+discovered?--some new whirligig?”
+
+“No, a poem. Eighteen to twenty stanzas of glorious melody imprisoned in
+type.”
+
+“One of your own?” laughed St. George--one of his merry vibrating laughs
+that made everybody happier about him. The sight of Richard had swept
+all the cobwebs out of his brain.
+
+“No, you trifler!--one of Edgar Allan Poe's. None of your scoffing, sir!
+You may go home in tears before I am through with you. This way, both of
+you.”
+
+The three had entered the coffee-room now, Richard's arm through St.
+George's, Harry following close. The inventor drew out the chairs one
+after another, and when they were all three seated took a missive from
+his pocket and spread it out on his knee, St. George and Harry keeping
+their eyes on his every movement.
+
+“Here's a letter, St. George”--Richard's voice now fell to a serious
+key--“which I have just received from your friend and mine, Mr. N.
+P. Willis. In it he sends me this most wonderful poem cut from his
+paper--the Mirror--and published, I discover to my astonishment, some
+months back. I am going to read it to you if you will permit me. It
+certainly is a most remarkable production. The wonder to me is that I
+haven't seen it before. It is by that Mr. Poe you met at my house some
+years ago--you remember him?--a rather sad-looking man with big head and
+deep eyes?” Temple nodded in answer, and Harry's eyes glistened: Poe
+was one of his university's gods. “Just let me read to you what Willis
+says”--here he glanced down the letter sheet: “'Nothing, I assure you,
+my dear Horn, has made so great a stir in literary circles as this
+“Raven” of Poe's. I am sending it to you knowing that you are interested
+in the man. If I do not mistake I first met Poe one night at your
+house.' And a very extraordinary night it was, St. George,” said
+Richard, lifting his eyes from the sheet. “Poe, if you remember, read
+one of his stories for us, and both Latrobe and Kennedy were so charmed
+that they talked of nothing else for days.”
+
+St. George remembered so clearly that he could still recall the tones
+of Poe's voice, and the peculiar lambent light that flashed from out the
+poet's dark eyes--the light of a black opal. He settled himself back in
+his chair to enjoy the treat the better. This was the kind of talk he
+wanted to-day, and Richard Horn, of all others, was the man to conduct
+it.
+
+The inventor's earnestness and the absorbed look on St. George's and
+Harry's faces, and the fact that Horn was about to read aloud, had
+attracted the attention of several near-by members, who were already
+straining their ears, for no one had Richard's gift for reading.
+
+In low, clear tones, his voice rising in intensity as the weird pathos
+of the several stanzas gripped his heart, he unfolded the marvellous
+drama until the very room seemed filled with the spirit of both the man
+and the demon. Every stanza in his clear enunciation seemed a separate
+string of sombre pearls, each syllable aglow with its own inherent
+beauty. When he ceased it was as if the soul of some great 'cello had
+stopped vibrating, leaving only the memory of its melody. For a few
+seconds no one moved nor spoke. No one had ever heard Richard in finer
+voice nor had they ever listened to more perfect rhythmic beauty. So
+great was the effect on the audience that one old habitue, in speaking
+of it afterward, insisted that Richard must have seen the bird roosting
+over the door, so realistic was his rendering.
+
+Harry had listened with bated breath, absorbing every tone and
+inflection of Richard's voice. He and Poe had been members of the same
+university, and the poet had always been one of his idols--the man of
+all others he wanted most to know. Poe's former room opening into the
+corridor had invariably attracted him. He had frequently looked about
+its bare walls wondering how so great an inspiration could have
+started from such meagre surroundings. He had, too, with the romantic
+imagination of a boy, pictured to himself the kind of man he was, his
+looks, voice, and manner, and though he had never seen the poet in the
+flesh, somehow the tones of Richard's voice recalled to him the very
+picture he had conjured up in his mind in his boyhood days.
+
+St. George had also listened intently, but the impression was quite
+different from the one made on the younger man. Temple thought only of
+Poe's despondency, of his striving for a better and happier life; of his
+poverty--more than once had he gone down into his own pockets to relieve
+the poor fellow's urgent necessities, and he was still ready to do
+it again--a readiness in which he was almost alone, for many of the
+writer's earlier friends had of late avoided meeting him whenever he
+passed through Kennedy Square. Even Kennedy, his life-long friend, had
+begun to look upon him as a hopeless case.
+
+This antipathy was also to be found in the club. Even with the memory
+of Richard's voice in their ears one of the listeners had shrugged his
+shoulders, remarking with a bitter laugh that musical as was the poem,
+especially as rendered by Richard, it was, after all, like most of Poe's
+other manuscripts, found in a bottle, or more likely “a bottle found
+in a manuscript,” as that crazy lunatic couldn't write anything worth
+reading unless he was half drunk. At which St. George had blazed out:
+
+“Hush, Bowdoin! You ought to be willing to be blind drunk half your time
+if you could write one stanza of it! Please let me have it, Richard,”
+ and he took the sheet from his friend's hand, that he and Harry might
+read it at their leisure when they reached home.
+
+Harry's blood had also boiled at the rude thrust. While under the spell
+of Richard's voice a cord in his own soul had vibrated as does a glass
+globe when it responds in perfect harmony to a note from a violin.
+He too had a Lenore whose loss had wellnigh broken his heart. This
+in itself was an indissoluble bond between them. Besides, he could
+understand the poet as Alec and his mother and his Uncle George
+understood himself. He had begun now to love the man in his heart.
+
+With his mind filled with these thoughts, his hunger for Kate aroused
+tenfold by the pathos and weird beauty of what he had just heard, he
+left the group of men who were still discussing the man and his verses,
+and joined his uncle outside on the top step of the club's high stoop,
+from which could be seen the full length of the sun-flecked street
+on which the clubhouse stood, as well as the park in all its spring
+loveliness.
+
+Unconsciously his eyes wandered across the path where Kate's house
+stood. He could see the tall chimneys and the slope of the quaint roof,
+and but that the foliage hid the lower part, could have seen Kate's own
+windows. She was still at home, he had heard, although she was expected
+to leave for the Red Sulphur any day.
+
+Suddenly, from away up the street, past the corner of the park, there
+reached his ears a low winding note, which grew louder as it turned
+the corner, followed by the rattle of wheels and the clatter of horses'
+feet. He leaned forward and craned his head in the direction of the
+sound, his heart in his throat, the blood mounting to his cheeks. If
+that was not his father's horn it was wonderfully like it. At the
+same moment a coach-and-four swept in sight, driven by a man in a
+whitey-brown coat and stiff furry hat, with two grooms behind and a
+coachman next to him on the box. It was heading straight for the club.
+
+Every man was on his feet.
+
+“By Jove!--it's Rutter. Bowdoin!--Clayton!--here comes the colonel!”
+
+Again the horn gave out a long withering, wiry note ringing through the
+leaves and along the brick pavement, and the next instant the leaders
+were gathered up, the wheel-horses hauled taut, the hub of the front
+wheel of the coach halting within an inch of the horse-block of the
+club.
+
+“Bravo, Rutter! Best whip in the county! Not a man in England could have
+done it better. Let me help you down!”
+
+The colonel shook his head good-humoredly, rose in his seat, shifted a
+bunch of violets to his inner lapel, slipped off his driving-coat, threw
+it across the rail, dropped his whip in the socket, handed his heavy
+gloves to his groom, and slid gracefully to the sidewalk. There he shook
+hands cordially with the men nearest him, excused himself for a moment
+until he had inspected his off leader's forefoot--she had picked up a
+stone on the way in from Moorlands--patted the nigh wheel-horse, stamped
+his own feet lustily as if to be sure he was all there, and, with a
+lordly bow to those about him, slowly mounted the steps of the club.
+
+Harry had already risen to his feet and stood trembling, one hand
+clutching the iron railing that guarded the marble steps. A great throb
+of joy welled up in his throat. His mother was right--the loneliness
+had overpowered his father; he still loved him, and Miss Clendenning's
+prediction was coming true! Not only was he willing to forgive him, but
+he had come himself to take him home. He could hardly wait until his
+father reached his side, so eager was he to open his arms and hands and
+his lips in apology--and Kate!--what joy would be hers!
+
+St. George had also gained his feet. What had brought the colonel into
+town, he said to himself, and in such state--and at this hour of the
+day, too? Could it be that Harry was the cause?
+
+“How were the roads, Talbot?” he called out in his customary cheery
+tones. He would start fair, anyway.
+
+The colonel, who, head down, had been mounting the marble steps one at
+a time, inspecting each slab as he climbed, after the manner of men
+thoroughly satisfied with themselves, and who at the same time are
+conscious of the effect of their presence on those about them, raised
+his head and gazed in astonishment at the speaker. Then his body
+straightened up and he came to a stand-still. He looked first into St.
+George's face, then into Harry's, with a cold, rigid stare; his lips
+shut tight, his head thrown back, his whole frame stiff as an iron
+bar--and without a word of recognition of any kind, passed through the
+open door and into the wide hall. He had cut both of them dead.
+
+Harry gave a half-smothered cry of anguish and turned to follow his
+father into the club.
+
+St. George, purple with rage, laid his hand on the boy's arm, so tight
+that the fingers sank into the flesh: there were steel clamps inside
+these delicate palms when occasion required.
+
+“Keep still,” he hissed--“not a word, no outburst. Stay here until I
+come for you. Stop, Rutter: stand where you are!” The two were
+abreast of each other now. “You dare treat your son in that way?
+Horn--Murdoch--Warfield--all of you come out here! What I've got to say
+to Talbot Rutter I want you to hear, and I intend that not only you but
+every decent man and woman in Kennedy Square shall hear!”
+
+The colonel's lips quivered and his face paled, but he did not flinch,
+nor did his eyes drop.
+
+“You are not a father, Talbot--you are a brute! There is not a dog
+in your kennels that would not treat his litter better than you have
+treated Harry! You turned him out in the night without a penny to his
+name; you break his mother's heart; you refuse to hear a word he has
+to say, and then you have the audacity to pass him on the steps of this
+club where he is my guest--my guest, remember--look him squarely in
+the face and ignore him. That, gentlemen, is what Talbot Rutter did one
+minute ago. You have disgraced your blood and your name and you have
+laid up for your old age untold misery and suffering. Never, as long
+as I live, will I speak to you again, nor shall Harry, whom you have
+humiliated! Hereafter _I_ am his father! Do you hear?”
+
+During the whole outburst the colonel had not moved a muscle of his face
+nor had he shifted his body a quarter of an inch. He stood with his
+back to the door through which could be seen the amazed faces of his
+fellow-members--one hand tight shut behind his back, the other loose by
+his side, his eyes fixed on his antagonist. Then slowly, one word at a
+time, as if he had purposely measured the intervals of speech, he said,
+in a voice hardly heard beyond the door, so low was it:
+
+“Are--you--through--St. George?”
+
+“Yes, by God!--I am, and forever!”
+
+“Then, gentlemen”--and he waved his hand courteously to the astounded
+listeners--“may I ask you all to join me? John, bring the juleps!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+
+All the way back to his house St. George's wrath kept him silent. He had
+rarely been so stirred. He was not a brawler--his whole life had been
+one of peace; his whole ambition to be the healer of differences, and
+yet there were some things he could not stand. One of these was cruelty
+to a human being, and Rutter's public disowning of Harry was cruelty of
+the most contemptible kind. But one explanation of such an outrage
+was possible--the man's intolerable egoism, added to his insufferable
+conceit. Only once did Temple address Harry, walking silently by his
+side under the magnolias, and then only to remark, more to himself than
+to his companion--“It's his damned, dirty pride, Harry--that's what it
+is!”
+
+Harry also held his peace. He had no theories regarding his father's
+conduct: only facts confronted him, one being that he had purposely
+humiliated him before the men who had known him from a boy, and with
+whom his future life must be cast. The end had come now. He was adrift
+without a home. Even Kate was lost. This last attack of his father's
+would widen the breach between them, for she would never overlook this
+last stigma when she heard of it, as she certainly must. Nobody would
+then be left on his side except his dear mother, the old house servants,
+and St. George, and of these St. George alone could be of any service to
+him.
+
+It had all been so horrible too, and so undeserved--worse than anything
+he had ever dreamed of; infinitely worse than the night he had been
+driven from Moorlands. Never in all his life had he shown his father
+anything but obedience and respect; furthermore, he had loved and
+admired him; loved his dash and vigor; his superb physique for a man of
+his years--some fifty odd--loved too his sportsmanlike qualities--not a
+man in the county was his equal in the saddle, and not a man in his own
+or any other county could handle the ribbons so well. If his father had
+not agreed with him as to when and where he should teach a vulgarian
+manners, that had been a question about which gentlemen might differ,
+but to have treated him with contempt, to insult him in public, leaving
+him no chance to defend himself--force him, really, into a position
+which made it impossible for him to strike back--was altogether a
+different thing, and for that he would never, never forgive him.
+
+Then a strange thing happened in the boy's mind. It may have been the
+shifting of a grain of gray matter never called into use before; or it
+may have been due to some stranded red corpuscle which, dislodged by the
+pressure he had lately been called upon to endure, had rushed headlong
+through his veins scouring out everything in its way until it reached
+his thinking apparatus. Whatever the cause, certain it was that the
+change in the boy's view of life was as instantaneous as it was radical.
+
+And this was quite possible when his blood is considered. There had
+been, it is true, dominating tyrants way back in his ancestry, as well
+as spend-thrifts, drunkards, roysterers, and gamesters, but so far as
+the records showed there had never been a coward. That old fellow De
+Ruyter, whose portrait hung at Moorlands and who might have been his
+father, so great was the resemblance, had, so to speak, held a shovel in
+one hand and a sword in the other in the days when he helped drown out
+his own and his neighbors' estates to keep the haughty don from gobbling
+up his country. One had but to look into Harry's face to be convinced
+that he too would have followed in his footsteps had he lived in that
+ancestor's time.
+
+It was when the boy, smarting under his father's insult, was passing
+under the blossoms of a wide-spreading magnolia, trying to get a glimpse
+of Kate's face, if by any chance she should be at her window, that this
+grain of gray matter, or lively red corpuscle--or whatever it might
+have been--forced itself through. The breaking away was slow--little
+by little--as an underground tunnel seeks an opening--but the light
+increased with every thought-stroke, its blinding intensity becoming so
+fierce at last that he came to a halt, his eyes on the ground, his whole
+body tense, his mind in a whirl.
+
+Suddenly his brain acted.
+
+To sit down and snivel would do no good; to curse his father would
+be useless and wicked; to force himself on Kate sheer madness.
+But--BUT--BUT--he was twenty-two!--in perfect health and not ashamed
+to look any man in the face. St. George loved him--so did his precious
+mother, and Alec, and a host of others. Should he continue to sit in
+ashes, swaddled in sackcloth--or should he meet the situation like
+a man? Then as his mental vision became accustomed to the glare, two
+things stood out clear in his mind--to win Kate back, no matter at what
+cost--and to compel his father's respect.
+
+
+His mother was the first to hear the music of this new note of
+resolve, and she had not long to wait. She had come to town with the
+colonel--indeed it was at her request that he had ordered the coach
+instead of coming in on horseback, as was his custom--and was at the
+moment quietly resting on St. George's big sofa.
+
+“It is all over, mother,” Harry cried in a voice so firm and determined
+that his mother knew at once something unusual had happened--“and you
+might as well make up your mind to it--I have. Father walked into the
+club five minutes ago, looked me square in the face, and cut me dead;
+and he insulted Uncle George too, who gave him the greatest dressing
+down you ever heard in your life.” He had learned another side of his
+uncle's character--one he should never cease to be grateful for--his
+outspoken defence of him before his equals.
+
+Mrs. Rutter half rose from her seat in blank astonishment. She was
+a frail little woman with pale-blue eyes and a figure like a curl of
+smoke.
+
+“Your--father--did not--speak--to--you!” she exclaimed excitedly. “You
+say--your father--But how dare he!”
+
+“But he did!” replied Harry in a voice that showed the incident still
+rankled in his mind--“and right in the club, before everybody.”
+
+“And the other gentlemen saw it?” She stood erect, her delicate body
+tightening up. There was a strain of some old-time warrior in her blood
+that would brook no insult to her son.
+
+“Yes, half a dozen gentlemen saw it. He did it purposely--so they COULD
+see. I'll never forgive him for it as long as I live. He had no business
+to treat me so!” His voice choked as he spoke, but there was no note of
+surrender or of fear.
+
+She looked at him in a helpless sort of way. “But you didn't answer
+back, did you, my son?” This came in a tone as if she feared to hear the
+details, knowing the boy's temperament, and his father's.
+
+“I didn't say a word; Uncle George wouldn't let me. I'm glad now he
+stopped me, for I was pretty mad, and I might have said something I
+would have been sorry for.” The mother gave a sigh of relief, but she
+did not interrupt, nor did she relax the tautness of her body. “You
+ought to have heard Uncle George, though!” Harry rushed on. “He told him
+there was not a dog at Moorlands who would not have treated his puppy
+better than he had me--and another thing he told him--and that was that
+after to-day I was HIS son forever!”
+
+St. George had been standing at the front window with his back to them,
+looking out upon the blossoms. At this last outburst he turned, and said
+over his shoulder:
+
+“Yes--that's true, Annie--that's what I said and what I mean. There is
+no use wasting any more time over Talbot, and I don't intend to.”
+
+“But Mr. Rutter will get over his temper.” (She never called him by any
+other name.)
+
+“Then he will have to come here and say so. I shall never step foot in
+his house until he does, nor will Harry. As to his forgiving Harry--the
+boot is on the other leg; it is Talbot, not the boy he outraged, who
+must straighten out to-day's work. There was not a man who heard him who
+was not ashamed of him. Oh!--I have no patience with this sort of thing!
+The only son he's got--his only child! Abominable--unforgivable! And it
+will haunt him to his dying day! Poor as I am, alone in the world and
+without a member of my family above ground, I would not change places
+with him. No--Annie--I know how you feel, and God knows I have felt
+for you all these years, but I tell you the end has come! It's
+finished--over--I told him so to his face, and I mean it!”
+
+The slight body sank back into her chair and her eyes filled with tears.
+Harry knelt beside her and put his arms about her. This mother, frail
+as she was, had always been his refuge and comfort: now he must do the
+comforting! (Keep moving, old red corpuscle, there is a lot of work
+ahead of you!)
+
+“Don't worry, you dear little mother,” he said tenderly. “I don't know
+how it's coming out, but it will come out somehow. Let father go: Kate
+is the only thing that counts now. I don't blame her for anything she
+has done, and I don't blame myself either. All I know is that everything
+has gone wrong. But, wrong or right, I'm going to stay here just as long
+as Uncle George will let me. He's been more of a father to me than my
+own. It's you I can't get along without, you precious little mother,”
+ and he patted her pale cheeks. “Won't you come in every day--and bring
+Alec too?” then, as if he had not yet asked her consent--“You don't mind
+my being here, do you?”
+
+She drew his head close to her lips and kissed his cheek. “No, my son,
+I don't mind--I'm glad. Every night of my life I thank my Maker that
+you are here.” She raised her eyes to St. George, who stood looking down
+upon them both, and in a voice barely audible, an unbidden sob choking
+her utterance, faltered--“It's only one more proof of your goodness, St.
+George.”
+
+He raised his hand in protest and a faint smile crossed his face. “Don't
+talk that way. Annie.”
+
+“I will--it's true. It is a proof of your goodness. I have never
+deserved it. I don't now--but you never fail me.” Her voice was clearer
+now--her cheeks, too, had regained some of their color. Harry listened
+wonderingly, his arm still around her.
+
+“I couldn't do anything else, Annie--nobody could under the
+circumstances.” His voice had dropped almost to a whisper.
+
+“But it was for me you did it, St. George. I would rather think of it
+that way; it makes it easier. Say you did it for me.”
+
+St. George stooped down, raised her thin white hand to his lips, kissed
+it reverently, and without a word of any kind walked to the door of his
+bedroom and shut it behind him.
+
+Mrs. Rutter's hand dropped to her lap and a smile of intense relief
+passed over her face. She neither looked after St. George, nor did she
+offer any explanation to Harry; she merely bent forward and continued
+her caresses, stroking the boy's glossy hair, patting the white temples
+with her delicate fingers, smoothing the small, well-set ears and the
+full brown throat, kissing his forehead, her eyes reading his face,
+wondering if she had spoken too freely and yet regretting nothing: what
+she had said had come straight from her heart and she was not ashamed of
+it.
+
+The boy lay still, his head against her breast. That his mother had been
+stirred even in a greater degree over what St. George had said to her
+than she had been by his father's treatment of him was evident in the
+trembling movement of the soft hands caressing his hair and in the way
+her breath came and went. Under her soothing touch his thoughts went
+back to the events of the morning:--his uncle's defiant tones as he
+denounced his father; his soft answer to his mother; her pleading words
+in reply, and then the reverent kiss.
+
+Suddenly, clear as the tones of a far-off convent bell sifting down
+from some cloud-swept crag, there stole into his mind a memory of his
+childhood--a legend of long ago, vague and intangible--one he could not
+put into words--one Alec had once hinted at. He held his breath trying
+to gather up the loose ends--to make a connected whole; to fit the parts
+together. Then, as one blows out a candle, leaving total darkness, he
+banished it all from his mind.
+
+“Mother dear!--mother dear!” he cried tenderly, and wound his arms the
+closer about her neck.
+
+She gathered him up as she had done in the old days when he was a child
+at her breast; all the intervening years seemed blotted out. He was her
+baby boy once more--her constant companion and unending comfort: the one
+and only thing in her whole life that understood her.
+
+Soon the warmth and strength of the full man began to reach her heart.
+She drew him still closer, this strong son who loved her, and in the
+embrace there grew a new and strange tenderness--one born of confidence.
+It was this arm which must defend her now; this head and heart which
+must guide her. She was no longer adrift.
+
+The two had not moved when St. George re-entered the room some moments
+later. Harry's head still lay on her breast, the thin, transparent hands
+tight about his neck.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+
+The colonel's treatment of Harry at the club had cleared the air of
+any doubt that either the boy or St. George might have had concerning
+Rutter's frame of mind. Henceforth the boy and the man would conduct
+their lives as if the Lord of Moorlands did not exist.
+
+So the boy unpacked the things which Alec had brought in, and with
+his mother's assistance--who came in once a week--hung up his
+hunting-clothes in the closet, racked up his guns and fishing-rods over
+the mantel, and suspended his favorite saddle by a stirrup on a hook in
+the hall. Then the two had set out his books and miniatures; one of his
+mother, which he kissed tenderly, with the remark that it wasn't half as
+pretty as the original, and then propped up in the place of honor in
+the middle of his desk, and another of his father, which he placed on an
+adjoining table--as well as his few belongings and knickknacks. And so
+the outcast settled down determined not only to adapt himself to the
+comforts--or want of them--to be found under St. George's roof, but to
+do it cheerfully, gratefully, and like a man and a gentleman.
+
+To none of all this did his father offer a single objection. “Make a
+clean sweep of Mr. Harry Rutter's things,” he had said to Alec, “so that
+I may be relieved from the annoyance of a second delivery.”
+
+Alec had repeated the order to Harry word for word, adding: “Don't you
+sass back, Marse Harry--let him blow hisse'f out--he don't mean nothin'.
+He's dat mad he's crazy--gits dat way sometimes--den purty soon he's
+fit to bust hisse'f wide open a-cryin'! I see him do dat once when you
+warn't mo'n so high, and de doctor said you was daid fo' sho'.”
+
+Harry made no reply, but it did not ruffle his temper. His duty was no
+longer to be found at Moorlands; his Uncle George claimed him. All his
+hours would now be devoted to showing him how grateful he was for his
+protection and guidance. Time enough for his father, and time enough
+for Kate, for that matter, should the clouds ever lift--as lift they
+would--but his Uncle George first, last, and all the time.
+
+And St. George appreciated it to the full. Never had he been so happy.
+Even the men at the club saw the change, and declared he looked ten
+years younger--fifteen really, when Harry was with him, which was
+almost always the case--for out of consideration for St. George and the
+peculiar circumstances surrounding the boy's condition, his birth and
+station, and the pride they took in his pluck, the committee had at
+last stretched the rule and had sent Mr. Henry Gilmor Rutter of
+Moorlands--with special reference to “Moorlands,” a perennial invitation
+entitling him to the club's privileges--a card which never expired
+because it was systematically renewed.
+
+And it was not only at the club that the two men were inseparable. In
+their morning walks, the four dogs in full cry; at the races; in the
+hunts, when some one loaned both Harry and his uncle a mount--at night,
+when Todd passed silently out, leaving all the bottled comforts behind
+him--followed by--“Ah, Harry!--and you won't join me? That's right, my
+son--and I won't ask you,” the two passed almost every hour of the day
+and night together. It was host one minute and father the next.
+
+And this life, if the truth be told, did not greatly vary from the one
+the boy had always led, except that there was more of town and less of
+country in it than he had heretofore been accustomed to. The freedom
+from all care--for the colonel had trained Harry to neither business nor
+profession--was the same, and so was the right to employ his time as he
+pleased. At Moorlands he was busy over his horses and dogs, his sporting
+outfits, riding to hounds, cock-fights--common in those days--and, of
+course, assisting his father and mother in dispensing the hospitality of
+the house. In Kennedy Square St. George was his chief occupation, and
+of the two he liked the last the best. What he had hungered for all his
+life was sympathy and companionship, and this his father had never given
+him; nor had he known what it was since his college days. Advice, money,
+horses, clothes, guns--anything and everything which might, could, or
+would redound to the glory of the Rutters had been his for the asking,
+but the touch of a warm hand, the thrill in the voice when he had done
+something to please and had waited for an acknowledgment--that had never
+come his way. Nothing of this kind was needed between men, his father
+would say to Harry's mother--and his son was a man now. Had their child
+been a daughter, it would have been quite another thing, but a son was
+to be handled differently--especially an only son who was sole heir to
+one's entire estate.
+
+And yet it must not be thought that the outcast spent his time in sheer
+idleness. St. George would often find him tucked away in one of his big
+chairs devouring some book he had culled from the old general's library
+in the basement--a room adjoining the one occupied by a firm of young
+lawyers--Pawson & Pawson (only one brother was alive)--with an entrance
+on the side street, it being of “no use to me” St. George had said--“and
+the rent will come in handy.” Tales of the sea especially delighted the
+young fellow--the old admiral's blood being again in evidence--and so
+might have been the mother's fine imagination. It was Defoe and Mungo
+Park and Cooke who enchained the boy's attention, as well as many of the
+chronicles of the later navigators. But of the current literature of
+the day--Longfellow, Margaret Fuller, Hawthorne, and Emerson--no one
+appealed to him as did the man Poe. He and St. George had passed many
+an hour discussing him. Somehow the bond of sympathy between himself and
+the poet had become the stronger. Both had wept bitter tears over the
+calamities that had followed an unrequited love.
+
+It was during one of these talks--and the poet was often under
+discussion--that St. George had suddenly risen from his chair, lighted
+a candle, and had betaken himself to the basement--a place he seldom
+visited--from which he brought back a thin, crudely bound, and badly
+printed, dust-covered volume bearing the title “Tamerlane:--by a
+Bostonian.” This, with a smile he handed to Harry. Some friend had given
+him the little book when it was first published and he had forgotten
+it was in the house until he noted Harry's interest in the author. Then
+again, he wanted to see whether it was the boy's literary taste, never
+much in evidence, or his romantic conception of the much-talked-of poet,
+which had prompted his intense interest in the man.
+
+“Read these poems, Harry, and tell me who wrote them,” said St. George,
+dusting the book with a thrash of his handkerchief and tossing it to the
+young fellow.
+
+The boy caught it, skimmed through the thin volume, lingered over one or
+two pages, absorbing each line, and replied in a decided and delighted
+voice: “The same man who wrote 'The Raven,' of course--there can't be
+any doubt of it. I can hear Mr. Horn's voice in every line. Why didn't
+you let me have it before?”
+
+“Are you sure?” asked St. George, watching him closely.
+
+“Am I sure?--of course I am! Listen to this:
+
+“'We grew in age--and--love--together, Roaming the forest and the
+wild--'
+
+“That's Kate and me, Uncle George,” and he smiled sadly. “And then this
+line:
+
+“'I saw no heaven but in her eyes.'
+
+“And then these lines in 'The Raven'--wait--I will read them.” He had
+the sheet of paper in his pocket which Richard Horn had read from at the
+club, and knew the poem now by heart:
+
+“'Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn, It
+shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels call Lenore'--
+
+“That's me again. I wish I could read it like Mr. Horn. What a voice--so
+deep--so musical--like a great organ, or, rather, like one of the big
+strings on his violin.”
+
+“And what a mind, too, Harry,” rejoined St. George. “Richard is a long
+way ahead of his time. His head is full of things that few around here
+understand. They hear him play the violin or read, and some go away
+calling him a genius, but when he talks to them about the way the
+railroads are opening up, and the new telegraph this man Morse is
+at work on, and what is going to come of it--or hear him discuss the
+development of the country along scientific lines, they shrug their
+shoulders and tap their foreheads. You want to talk to him every chance
+you get. That is one reason I am glad they let you permanently into the
+club, for he is too busy in his work-shop at home to speak to anybody.
+Nobody will do you so much good--and he likes you, Harry. He said to me
+only the other night when I was dining with him--the night you were at
+Mrs. Cheston's--that he felt sorry for you; that it was not your fault,
+or the fault of your father--but that you both had been caught in the
+ebb-tide of a period.”
+
+Harry laughed: “What did he mean by that?”
+
+“I'll be hanged if I know. You made so good a guess on the Tamerlane,
+that it's just occurred to me to try you on this,” and St. George
+laughed heartily. (St. George was adrift on the ebb-tide himself did he
+but know it.)
+
+Harry thought earnestly for a moment, pondering upon what the inventor
+could have had in his mind. It couldn't have been politics that Mr. Horn
+meant; nor failure of the crops; nor the way the slaves were treated.
+None of these things affected him. Indeed none of them did he know
+anything of. Nor was he an expert on duelling. It must have been Kate.
+Yes--of course--it was Kate and her treatment of him. The “tide” was
+what had swept them apart.
+
+“Oh, I know,” he cried in an animated tone. “He meant Kate. Tell
+me--what did he say about her?” He had searched his books for some
+parallel from which to draw a conclusion, but none of them had given him
+any relief. May be Mr. Horn had solved the problem.
+
+“He said she was the first of the flood, though he was mighty sorry for
+you both; and he said, too, that, as she was the first to strike out for
+the shore, Kennedy Square ought to build a triumphal arch for her,” and
+St. George looked quizzically at Harry.
+
+“Well, do you think there is any common sense in that?” blurted out the
+boy, twisting himself in his chair so he could get a better look at his
+uncle's face.
+
+“No--it doesn't sound like it, but it may be profound wisdom all the
+same, if you can only see it from Richard's point of view. Try it.
+There's a heap of brains under his cranium.”
+
+Harry fell to tapping the arm of his chair. Queer reasoning this of Mr.
+Horn's, he said to himself. He had always thought that he and his father
+were on the tip-top of any kind of tide, flood or ebb--and as for Kate,
+she was the white gull that skimmed its crest!
+
+Again Harry dropped into deep thought, shifting his legs now and then in
+his restless, impatient way. If there was any comfort to be gotten out
+of this new doctrine he wanted to probe it to the bottom.
+
+“And what does he say of Mr. Poe? Does he think he's a drunken lunatic,
+like some of the men at the club?”
+
+“No, he thinks he is one of the greatest literary geniuses the country
+has yet produced. He has said so for years--ever since he began to
+write. Willis first became acquainted with Mr. Poe through a letter
+Richard gave him, and now that the papers are full of him, and everybody
+is talking about him, these backbiters like Bowdoin want to get into
+line and say they always thought so. But Richard has never wavered. Of
+course Poe loses his balance and topples backward once in a while--but
+he's getting over it. That is his mistake and it is unfortunate, but
+it isn't a crime. I can forgive him anything he does so he keeps to
+his ideals. If he had had a better bringing up and knew the difference
+between good rain-water Madeira and bad pump water and worse whiskey he
+would keep as straight as a church deacon. Too bad he doesn't.”
+
+“Well,” Harry answered at last, rising from his chair and brushing the
+ashes of his pipe from his clothes--“I don't know anything about Mr.
+Horn's tides, but he's right about Mr. Poe--that is, I hope he is. We've
+both, got a 'Lost Lenore,'” and his voice quivered. All Harry's roads
+ended at Kate's door.
+
+And so with these and other talks, heart-burnings, outings, sports, and
+long tramps in the country, the dogs scampering ahead, the summer days
+slipped by.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+
+Such were the soft, balmy conditions in and around the Temple
+Mansion--conditions bringing only peace and comfort--(heart-aches were
+kept in check)--when one August morning there came so decided a change
+of weather that everybody began at once to get in out of the wet. The
+storm had been brewing for some days up Moorlands way, where all
+Harry's storms started, but up to the present moment there had been no
+indications in and about Kennedy Square of its near approach, or even of
+its existence.
+
+It was quite early in the day when the big drops began to patter down on
+Todd's highly polished knocker. Breakfast had been served and the mail
+but half opened--containing among other missives a letter from Poe
+acknowledging one from St. George, in which he wrote that he might
+soon be in Kennedy Square on his way to Richmond--a piece of news which
+greatly delighted Harry--and another from Tom Coston, inviting them both
+to Wesley for the fall shooting, with a postscript to the effect that
+Willits was “still at the Red Sulphur with the Seymours”--(a piece
+of news which greatly depressed him)--when Todd answered a thunderous
+rat-a-tat and immediately thereafter recrossed the hall and opened
+the dining-room door just wide enough to thrust in first his scared
+face--then his head--shoulder--arm--and last his hand, on the palm of
+which lay a small, greasy card bearing the inscription:
+
+John Gadgem, Agent.
+
+The darky, evidently, was not in a normal condition, for after a
+moment's nervous hesitation, his eyes over his shoulder as if fearing he
+was being followed, he squeezed in the rest of his body, closed the door
+softly behind him, and said in a hoarse whisper to the room at large:
+
+“Dat's de same man been here three times yisterday. He asked fust fer
+Marse Harry, an' when I done tol' him he warn't home--you was 'sleep
+upstairs, Marse Harry, but I warn't gwineter 'sturb ye--he say he come
+back dis mawnin'.”
+
+“Well, but what does he want?” asked Harry, dropping a lump of sugar in
+his cup. He had been accumstomed to be annoyed by agents of all kinds
+who wanted to sell him one thing or another--and so he never allowed
+any one to get at him unless his business was stated beforehand. He had
+learned this from his father.
+
+“I dun'no, sah.”
+
+“What does he look like, Todd?” cried St. George, breaking the seal of
+another letter.
+
+“Wall, he ain't no gemman--he's jus' a pusson I reckon. I done tol'
+him you warn't out o' bed yit, but he said he'd wait. I got him shet
+outside, but I can't fool him no mo'. What'll I do now?”
+
+“Well, what do you think he wants, then?” Harry burst out impatiently.
+
+“Well,” said Todd--“ef I was to tell ye God's truf', I reckon he wants
+money. He says he's been to de big house--way out to de colonel's, and
+dey th'owed him out--and now he's gwineter sit down yere till somebody
+listens to him. It won't do to fool wid him, Marse Harry--I see dat de
+fus' time he come. He's a he-one--and he's got horns on him for sho'.
+What'll I do?”
+
+Both Harry and St. George roared.
+
+“Why bring him in, of course--a 'pusson' with horns on him will be worth
+seeing.”
+
+A shabby, wizened-faced man; bent-in-the-back, gimlet-eyed, wearing a
+musty brown coat, soiled black stock, unspeakable linen, and skin-tight
+trousers held to his rusty shoes by wide straps--showing not only
+the knuckles of his knees but the streaked thinness of his upper
+shanks--(Cruikshank could have drawn him to the life)--sidled into the
+room, mopping his head with a red cotton handkerchief which he took from
+his hat.
+
+“My name is GADgem, gentleman--Mr. John GADgem of GADgem & Combes.
+
+“I am looking for Mr. Harry Rutter, whom I am informed--I would not
+say POSitively--but I am inFORMED is stopping with you, Mr. Temple.
+You forget me, Mr. Temple, but I do not forget you, sir. That little
+foreclosure matter of Bucks vs. Temple--you remember when--”
+
+“Sit down,” said St. George curtly, laying down his knife and fork.
+“Todd, hand Mr. Gadgem a chair.”
+
+The gimlet-eyed man--and it was very active--waved his hand
+deprecatingly.
+
+“No, I don't think that is necessary. I can stand. I preFER to stand.
+I am acCUStomed to stand--I have been standing outside this gentleman's
+father's door now, off and on, for some weeks, and--”
+
+“Will you tell me what you want?” interrupted Harry, curtly. References
+to Moorlands invariably roused his ire.
+
+“I am coming to that, sir, slowly, but surely. Now that I have found
+somebody that will listen to me--that is, if you are Mr. Harry Rutter--”
+ The deferential air with which he said this was admirable.
+
+“Oh, yes--I'm the man,” answered Harry in a resigned voice.
+
+“Yes, sir--so I supposed. And now I look at you, sir”--here the gimlet
+was in full twist--“I would make an affidavit to that effect before any
+notary.” He began loosening his coat with his skinny fingers, fumbling
+in his inside pocket, thrusting deep his hand, as if searching for an
+elusive insect in the vicinity of his arm-pit, his talk continuing:
+“Yes, sir, before any notary, you are so exactly like your father.
+Not that I've seen your father, sir, VERY MANY TIMES”--the elusive
+had evidently escaped, for his hand went deeper. “I've only seen him
+once--ONCE--and it was enough. It was not a pleasant visit, sir--in
+fact, it was a most UNpleasant visit. I came very near having cause
+for action--for assault, really. A very polite colored man was all that
+prevented it, and--Ah--here it is!” He had the minute pest now. “Permit
+me to separate the list from the exhibits.”
+
+At this Gadgem's hand, clutching a bundle of papers, came out with a
+jerk--so much of a jerk that St. George, who was about to end the comedy
+by ordering the man from the room, stopped short in his protest, his
+curiosity getting the better of him to know what the fellow had found.
+
+“There, sir.” Here he drew a long slip from the package, held it between
+his thumb and forefinger, and was about to continue, when St. George
+burst out with:
+
+“Look here, Gadgem--if you have any business with Mr. Rutter you will
+please state it at once. We have hardly finished breakfast.”
+
+“I beg, sir, that you will not lose your temper. It is unBUSinesslike to
+lose one's temper. Gadgem & Combes, sir, NEVER lose their temper. They
+are men of peace, sir--ALways men of peace. Mr. Combes sometimes resorts
+to extreme measures, but NEVER Mr. Gadgem. _I_ am Mr. Gadgem, sir,” and
+he tapped his soiled shirt-front with his soiled finger-nail. “PEACE
+is my watchword, that is why this matter has been placed in my hands.
+Permit me, sir, to ask you to cast your eye over this.”
+
+Harry, who was getting interested, scanned the long slip and handed it
+to St. George, who studied it for a moment and returned it to Harry.
+
+“You will note, I beg of you, sir, the first item.” There was a tone
+of triumph now in Gadgem's voice. “One saddle horse sixteen hands high,
+bought of Hampson & Co. on the”--then he craned his neck so as to see
+the list over Harry's shoulder--“yes--on the SECOND of LAST September.
+Rather overdue, is it not, sir, if I may be permitted to remark?” This
+came with a lift of the eyebrows, as if Harry's oversight had been too
+naughty for words.
+
+“But what the devil have I got to do with this?” The boy was thoroughly
+angry now. The lift of Gadgem's eyebrows did it.
+
+“You rode the horse, sir.” This came with a certain air of “Oh! I have
+you now.”
+
+“Yes, and he broke his leg and had to be shot,” burst out Harry in a
+tone that showed how worthless had been the bargain.
+
+“EXactly, sir. So your father told me, sir. You don't remember having
+PAID Mr. Hampson for him beFORE he broke his leg, do you, sir?” He
+had him pinned fast now--all he had to do was to watch his victim's
+struggles.
+
+“Me? No, of course not!” Harry exploded.
+
+“EXactly so, sir--so your father told me. FORcibly, sir--and as if he
+was quite sure of it.”
+
+Again he looked over Harry's shoulder, following the list with his
+skinny finger. At the same time he lowered his voice--became even
+humble. “Ah, there it is--the English racing saddle and the pair of
+blankets, and the--might I ask you, sir, whether you have among your
+papers any receipt for--?”
+
+“But I don't pay these bills--I never pay any bills.” Harry's tone had
+now reached a higher pitch.
+
+“EXactly so, sir--just what your father said, sir, and with such
+vehemence that I moved toward the door.” Out went the finger again, the
+insinuating voice keeping up. “And then the five hundred dollars from
+Mr. Slater--you see, sir, we had all these accounts placed in our
+hands with the expectation that your father would liquidate at one fell
+swoop--these were Mr. Combes's very words, sir: 'ONE FELL SWOOP.'” This
+came with an inward rake of his hand, his fingers grasping an imaginary
+sickle, Harry's accumulated debts being so many weeds in his way.
+
+“And didn't he? He always has,” demanded the culprit.
+
+“EXactly so, sir--exactly what your father said.”
+
+“Exactly what?”
+
+“That he had heretofore always paid them.”
+
+“Well, then, take them to him!” roared Harry, breaking loose again. “I
+haven't got anything to do with them, and won't.”
+
+“Your father's PREcise words, sir,” purred Gadgem. “And by the time he
+had uttered them, sir, I was out of the room. It was here, sir, that the
+very polite colored man, Alec by name, so I am informed, and of whom I
+made mention a few moments ago, became of inVALuable assistance--of very
+GREAT assistance, sir.”
+
+“You mean to tell me that you have seen my father--handed him these
+bills, and that he has refused to pay them?” Harry roared on.
+
+“I DO, sir.” Gadgem had straightened his withered body now and was
+boring into Harry's eyes with all his might.
+
+“Will you tell me just what he said?” The boy was still roaring, but the
+indignant tone was missing.
+
+“He said--you will not be offended, sir--you mean, of course, sir, that
+you would like me to state exACTly what your father said, proceeding as
+if I was under oath.” It is indescribable how soft and mellifluous his
+voice had now become.
+
+Harry nodded.
+
+“He said, sir, that he'd be DAMNED if he'd pay another cent for a
+hot-headed fool who had disgraced his family. He said, sir, that you
+were of AGE--and were of age when you contracted these bills. He said,
+sir, that he had already sent you these accounts two days after he
+had ordered you from his house. And FInally, sir--I say, finally, sir,
+because it appeared to me at the time to be conclusive--he said, sir,
+that he would set the dogs on me if I ever crossed his lot again. HENCE,
+sir, my appearing three times at your door yesterday. HENCE, sir,
+my breaking in upon you at this unseemly hour in the morning. I am
+particular myself, sir, about having my morning meal disturbed; cold
+coffee is never agreeable, gentlemen--but in this case you must admit
+that my intrusion is pardonable.”
+
+The boy understood now.
+
+“Come to think of it I have a bundle of papers upstairs tied with a
+red string which came with my boxes from Moorlands. I threw them in
+the drawer without opening them.” This last remark was addressed to St.
+George, who had listened at first with a broad smile on his face, which
+had deepened to one of intense seriousness as the interview continued,
+and which had now changed to one of ill-concealed rage.
+
+“Mr. Gadgem,” gritted St. George between his teeth--he had risen from
+the table during the colloquy and was standing with his back to the
+mantel, the blood up to the roots of his hair.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Lay the packages of bills with the memoranda on my desk, and I will
+look them over during the day.”
+
+“But, Mr. Temple,” and his lip curled contemptuously--he had had that
+same trick played on him by dozens of men.
+
+“Not another word, Mr. Gadgem. I said--I--would
+look--them--over--during--the--day. You've had some dealings with me and
+know exactly what kind of a man I am. When I want you I will send for
+you. If I don't send for you, come here to-morrow morning at ten o'clock
+and Mr. Rutter will give you his answer. Todd, show Mr. Gadgem out.”
+
+“But, Mr. Temple--you forGET that my duty is to--”
+
+“I forget nothing. Todd, show Mr. Gadgem out.”
+
+With the closing of the door behind the agent, St. George turned to
+Harry. His eyes were snapping fire and his big frame tense with anger.
+This phase of the affair had not occurred to him--nothing in which money
+formed an important part ever did occur to him.
+
+“A cowardly piece of business, Harry, and on a par with everything he
+has done since you left his house. Talbot must be crazy to act as he
+does. He can't break you down in any other way, so he insults you before
+his friends and now throws these in your face”--and he pointed to
+the package of bills where Gadgem had laid it--“a most extraordinary
+proceeding. Please hand me that list. Thank you.... Now this third item
+... this five hundred dollars--did you get that money?”
+
+“Yes--and another hundred the next day, which isn't down,” rejoined the
+young man, running his eye over the list.
+
+“Borrowed it?”
+
+“Yes, of course--for Gilbert. He got into a card scrape at the tavern
+and I helped him out. I told my father all about it and he said I had
+done just right; that I must always help a friend out in a case like
+that, and that he'd pay it. All he objected to was my borrowing it of a
+tradesman instead of my coming to him.” It was an age of borrowing and a
+bootmaker was often better than a banker.
+
+“Well--but why didn't you go to him?” He wanted to get at all the facts.
+
+“There wasn't time. Gilbert had to have the money in an hour, and it was
+the only place where I could get it.”
+
+“Of course there wasn't time--never is when the stakes are running
+like that.” St. George folded up the memorandum. He knew something of
+Talbot's iron will, but he never supposed that he would lose his sense
+of what was right and wrong in exercising it. Again he opened the
+list--rather hurriedly this time, as if some new phase had struck
+him--studied it for a moment, and then asked with an increased interest
+in his tones:
+
+“Did Gilbert give you back the money you loaned him?”
+
+“Yes--certainly; about a month afterward.” Here at least was an asset.
+
+St. George's face lighted up. “And what did you do with it?”
+
+“Took it to my father and he told me to use it; that he would settle
+with Mr. Slater when he paid his account;--when, too, he would thank him
+for helping me out.”
+
+“And when he didn't pay it back and these buzzards learned you had quit
+your father's house they employed Gadgem to pick your bones.”
+
+“Yes--it seems so; but, Uncle George, it's due them!” exclaimed
+Harry--“they ought to have their money. I would never have taken a
+dollar--or bought a thing if I had not supposed my father would pay for
+them.” There was no question as to the boy's sense of justice--every
+intonation showed it.
+
+“Of course it's due--due by you, too--not your father; that's the worst
+of it. And if he refuses to assume it--and he has--it is still to
+be paid--every cent of it. The question is how the devil is it to be
+paid--and paid quickly. I can't have you pointed out as a spendthrift
+and a dodger. No, this has got to be settled at once.”
+
+He threw himself into a chair, his mind absorbed in the effort to
+find some way out of the difficulty. The state of his own bank account
+precluded all relief in that direction. To borrow a dollar from the
+Patapsco on any note of hand he could offer was out of the question, the
+money stringency having become still more acute. Yet help must be had,
+and at once. Again he unfolded the slip and ran his eyes over the items,
+his mind in deep thought, then he added in an anxious tone:
+
+“Are you aware, Harry, that this list amounts to several thousand
+dollars?”
+
+“Yes--I saw it did. I had no idea it was so much. I never thought
+anything about it in fact. My father always paid--paid for anything I
+wanted.” Neither did the young fellow ever concern himself about the
+supply of water in the old well at Moorlands. His experience had been
+altogether with the bucket and the gourd: all he had had to do was to
+dip in.
+
+Again St. George ruminated. It had been many years since he had been so
+disturbed about any matter involving money.
+
+“And have you any money left, Harry?”
+
+“Not much. What I have is in my drawer upstairs.”
+
+“Then I'll lend you the money.” This came with a certain
+spontaneity--quite as if he had said to a companion who had lost his
+umbrella--“Take mine!”
+
+“But have you got it, Uncle George?” asked Harry in an anxious tone.
+
+“No--not that I know of,” he replied simply, but with no weakening of
+his determination to see the boy through, no matter at what cost.
+
+“Well--then--how will you lend it?” laughed Harry. Money crises had not
+formed part of his troubles.
+
+“Egad, my boy, I don't know!--but somehow.”
+
+He rang the bell and Todd put in his head. “Todd, go around
+outside,--see if young Mr. Pawson is in his office below us, present my
+compliments and say that it will give me great pleasure to call upon him
+regarding a matter of business.”
+
+“Yes, sah--”
+
+“--And, Todd--say also that if agreeable to him, I will be there in ten
+minutes.”
+
+
+Punctually at ten o'clock on the following morning the shrivelled body
+and anxious face of the agent was ushered by Todd into St. George's
+presence--Dandy close behind sniffing at his thin knees, convinced that
+he was a suspicious person. This hour had been fixed by Temple in case
+he was not sent for earlier, and as no messenger had so far reached
+the bill collector he was naturally in doubt as to the nature of his
+reception. He had the same hat in his hand and the same handkerchief--a
+weekly, or probably a monthly comfort--its dingy red color defrauding
+the laundry.
+
+“I have waited, sir,” Gadgem began in an unctuous tone, his eyes on
+the dog, who had now resumed his place on the hearth rug--“waited
+IMpatiently, relying upon the word and honor of--”
+
+“There--that will do, Gadgem,” laughed St. George good-naturedly.
+Somehow he seemed more than usually happy this morning--bubbling over,
+indeed, ever since Todd had brought him a message from the young lawyer
+in the basement but half an hour before. “Keep that sort of talk for
+those who like it. No, Todd, you needn't bring Mr. Gadgem a chair, for
+he won't be here long enough to enjoy it. Now listen,” and he took the
+memorandum from his pocket. “These bills are correct. Mr. Rutter has
+had the money and the goods. Take this list which I have signed to my
+attorney in the office underneath and be prepared to give a receipt in
+full for each account at twelve o'clock to-morrow. I have arranged to
+have them paid in full. Good-morning.”
+
+Gadgem stared. He did not believe a word about finding the money
+downstairs. He was accustomed to being put off that way and had already
+formulated his next tactical move. In fact he was about to name it with
+some positiveness, recounting the sort of papers which would follow and
+the celerity of their serving, when he suddenly became aware that St.
+George's eyes were fixed upon him and instantly stopped breathing.
+
+“I said good-morning, Mr. Gadgem,” repeated St. George sententiously.
+There was no mistaking his meaning.
+
+“I heard you, sir,” hesitated the collector--“_I_ heard you diSTINCTly,
+but in cases of this kind there is--”
+
+St. George swung back the door and stood waiting. No man living or dead
+had ever doubted the word of St. George Wilmot Temple, not even by
+a tone of the voice, and Gadgem's was certainly suggestive of a
+well-defined and most offensive doubt. Todd moved up closer; Dandy rose
+to his feet, thinking he might be of use. The little man looked from
+one to the other. He might add an action for assault and battery to the
+claim, but that would delay its collection.
+
+“Then at TWELVE o'clock, to-morrow, Mr. Temple,” he purred blandly.
+
+“At twelve o'clock!” repeated St. George coldly, wondering which end of
+the intruder he would grapple when he threw him through the front door
+and down the front steps.
+
+“I will be here on the stroke of the clock, sir--on the STROKE,” and
+Gadgem slunk out.
+
+For some minutes St. George continued to walk up and down the room,
+stooping once in a while to caress the setter; dry-washing his hands;
+tapping his well-cut waistcoat with his shapely fingers, his thumbs
+in the arm-holes; halting now and then to stretch himself to the
+full height of his body. He had outwitted the colonel--taught him a
+lesson--let him see that he was not the only “hound in the pack,” and,
+best of all, he had saved the boy from annoyance and possibly from
+disgrace.
+
+He was still striding up and down the room, when Harry, who had
+overslept himself as usual, came down to breakfast. Had some friend of
+his uncle found a gold mine in the back yard--or, better still, had Todd
+just discovered a forgotten row of old “Brahmin Madeira” in some dark
+corner of his cellar--St. George could not have been more buoyant.
+
+“Glad you didn't get up any earlier, you good-for-nothing sleepy-head!”
+ he cried in welcoming, joyous tones. “You have just missed that
+ill-smelling buzzard.”
+
+“What buzzard?” asked Harry, glancing over the letters on the mantel in
+the forlorn hope of finding one from Kate.
+
+“Why, Gadgem--and that is the last you will ever see of him.”
+
+“Why?--has father paid him?” he asked in a listless way, squeezing
+Dandy's nose thrust affectionately into his hand--his mind still on
+Kate. Now that Willits was with her, as every one said, she would never
+write him again. He was a fool to expect it, he thought, and he sighed
+heavily.
+
+“Of course he hasn't paid him--but I have. That is, a friend of mine
+has--or will.”
+
+“You have!” cried Harry with a start. He was interested now--not for
+himself, but for St. George: no penny of his uncle's should ever go to
+pay his debts. “Where did the money come from?”
+
+“Never you mind where the money came from. You found it for Gilbert--did
+he ask you where you got it? Why should you ask me?”
+
+“Well, I won't; but you are mighty good to me, Uncle George, and I am
+very grateful to you.” The relief was not overwhelming, for the burden
+of the debt had not been heavy. It was only the sting of his father's
+refusal that had hurt. He had always believed that the financial tangle
+would be straightened out somehow.
+
+“No!--damn it!--you are not grateful. You sha'n't be grateful!” cried
+St. George with a boyish laugh, seating himself that he might fill his
+pipe the better from a saucer of tobacco on the table. “If you were
+grateful it would spoil it all. What you can do, however, is to thank
+your lucky stars that that greasy red pocket-handkerchief will never
+be aired in your presence again. And there's another thing you can be
+thankful for now that you are in a thankful mood, and that is that Mr.
+Poe will be at Guy's to-morrow, and wants to see me.” He had finished
+filling the pipe bowl, and had struck a match.
+
+The boy's eyes danced. Gadgem, his father, his debts, everything--was
+forgotten.
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad! How do you know?”
+
+“Here's a letter from him.” (Puff-puff.)
+
+“And can I see him?”
+
+“Of course you can see him! We will have him to dinner, my boy! Here
+comes Todd with your coffee. Take my seat so I can talk to you while I
+smoke.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+
+Although St. George dispensed his hospitality without form or pretence,
+never referring to his intended functions except in a casual way, the
+news of so unusual a dinner to so notorious a man as Edgar Allan Poe
+could not long be kept quiet.
+
+While a few habitues occupying the arm-chairs on the sidewalk of the
+club were disappointed at not being invited,--although they knew that
+ten guests had always been St. George's limit,--others expressed their
+disapproval of the entire performance with more than a shrug of the
+shoulders. Captain Warfleld was most outspoken. “Temple,” he said, “like
+his father, is a law unto himself, and always entertains the queerest
+kind of people; and if he wants to do honor to a man of that stamp, why
+that, of course, is his business, not mine.” At which old Tom Purviance
+had blurted out--“And a shiftless vagabond too, Warfield, if what I hear
+is true. Fine subject for St. George to waste his Madeira on!” Purviance
+had never read a dozen lines of anybody's poetry in his life, and looked
+upon all literary men as no better than play actors.
+
+It was then that Richard Horn, his eyes flashing, had retorted:
+
+“If I did not know how kind-hearted you were, Purviance, and how
+thoughtless you can sometimes be in your criticisms, I might ask you to
+apologize to both Mr. Poe and myself. Would it surprise you to know that
+there is no more truth in what you say than there is in the reports of
+that gentleman's habitual drunkenness? It was but a year ago that I met
+him at his cousin's house and I shall never forget him. Would it also
+surprise you to learn that he has the appearance of a man of very great
+distinction?--that he was faultlessly attired in a full suit of black
+and had the finest pair of eyes in his head I have ever looked into? Mr.
+Poe is not of your world, or of mine--he is above it. There is too much
+of this sort of ill-considered judgment abroad in the land. No--my dear
+Purviance--I don't want to be rude and I am sure you will not think I
+am personal. I am only trying to be just to one of the master spirits
+of our time so that I won't be humiliated when his real worth becomes a
+household word.”
+
+The women took a different view.
+
+“I can't understand what Mr. Temple is thinking of,” said the wife
+of the archdeacon to Mrs. Cheston. “This Mr. Poe is something
+dreadful--never sober, I hear. Mr. Temple is invariably polite to
+everybody, but when he goes out of his way to do honor to a man like
+this he only makes it harder for those of us who are trying to help our
+sons and brothers--” to which Mrs. Cheston had replied with a twinkle
+in her mouse eyes and a toss of her gray head:--“So was Byron, my dear
+woman--a very dreadful and most disreputable person, but I can't spare
+him from my Library, nor should you.”
+
+None of these criticisms would have affected St. George had he heard
+them, and we may be sure no one dared tell him. He was too busy, in
+fact--and so was Harry, helping him for that matter--setting his house
+in order for the coming function.
+
+That the table itself might be made the more worthy of the great man,
+orders were given that the big silver loving-cup--the one presented
+to his father by no less a person than the Marquis de Castellux
+himself--should be brought out to be filled later on with Cloth of Gold
+roses so placed that their rich color and fragrance would reach both
+the eyes and the nostrils of his guests, while the rest of the family
+silver, brightened to a mirror finish by Todd, was either sent down to
+Aunt Jemima to be ready for the special dishes for which the house was
+famous, or disposed on the side-board and serving-table for instant use
+when required. Easy-chairs were next brought from upstairs--tobacco and
+pipes, with wax candles, were arranged on teak-wood trays, and an extra
+dozen or so of bubble-blown glasses banked on a convenient shelf. The
+banquet room too, for it was late summer, was kept as cool as the season
+permitted, the green shutters being closed, thus barring out the heat of
+early September--and the same precaution was taken in the dressing-room,
+which was to serve as a receptacle for hats and canes.
+
+And Todd as usual was his able assistant. All the darky's training came
+into play when his master was giving a dinner: what Madeira to decant,
+and what to leave in its jacket of dust, with its waistcoat of a label
+unlaundered for half a century; the temperature of the claret; the
+exact angle at which the Burgundy must be tilted and when it was to be
+opened--and how--especially the “how”--the disturbing of a single grain
+of sediment being a capital offence; the final brandies, particularly
+that old Peach Brandy hidden in Tom Coston's father's cellar during
+the war of 1812, and sent to that gentleman as an especial “mark of my
+appreciation to my dear friend and kinsman, St. George Wilmot Temple,”
+ etc., etc.--all this Todd knew to his finger ends.
+
+For with St. George to dine meant something more than the mere
+satisfying of one's hunger. To dine meant to get your elbows next to
+your dearest friend--half a dozen or more of your dearest friends, if
+possible--to look into their faces, hear them talk, regale them with the
+best your purse afforded, and last and best of all to open for them your
+rarest wines--wines bred in the open, amid tender, clustering leaves;
+wines mellowed by a thousand sunbeams; nurtured, cared for, and put
+tenderly to sleep, only to awake years thereafter to warm the hearts and
+cheer the souls of those who honored them with their respect and never
+degraded them with their debauchery.
+
+As for the dishes themselves--here St. George with Jemima's help was
+pastmaster: dishes sizzling hot; dishes warm, and dishes stone cold.
+And their several arrivals and departures, accompanied by their several
+staffs: the soup as an advance guard--of gumbo or clams--or both if you
+chose; then a sheepshead caught off Cobb's Island the day before, just
+arrived by the day boat, with potatoes that would melt in your mouth--in
+gray jackets these; then soft-shell crabs--big, crisp fellows, with
+fixed bayonets of legs, and orderlies of cucumber--the first served on
+a huge silver platter with the coat-of-arms of the Temples cut in the
+centre of the rim and the last on an old English cut-glass dish. Then
+the woodcock and green peas--and green corn--their teeth in a broad
+grin; then an olio of pineapple, and a wonderful Cheshire cheese, just
+arrived in a late invoice--and marvellous crackers--and coffee--and
+fruit (cantaloupes and peaches that would make your mouth water), then
+nuts, and last a few crusts of dry bread! And here everything came to
+a halt and all the troops were sent back to the barracks--(Aunt Jemima
+will do for the barracks).
+
+With this there was to follow a change of base--a most important change.
+Everything eatable and drinkable and all the glasses and dishes were to
+be lifted from the table--one half at a time--the cloth rolled back and
+whisked away and the polished mahogany laid bare; the silver coasters
+posted in advantageous positions, and in was to rattle the light
+artillery:--Black Warrior of 1810--Port of 1815--a Royal Brown Sherry
+that nobody knew anything about, and had no desire to, so fragrant was
+it. Last of all the notched finger-bowls in which to cool the delicate,
+pipe-stem glasses; and then, and only then, did the real dinner begin.
+
+All this Todd had done dozens and dozens of times before, and all this
+(with Malachi's assistance--Richard Horn consenting--for there was
+nothing too good for the great poet) would Todd do again on this
+eventful night.
+
+As to the guests, this particular feast being given to the most
+distinguished literary genius the country had yet produced,--certainly
+the most talked of--those who were bidden were, of course, selected with
+more than usual care: Mr. John P. Kennedy, the widely known author and
+statesman, and Mr. John H. B. Latrobe, equally noteworthy as counsellor,
+mathematician, and patron of the fine arts, both of whom had been Poe's
+friends for years, and who had first recognized his genius; Richard
+Horn, who never lost an opportunity to praise him, together with Judge
+Pancoast, Major Clayton, the richest aristocrat about Kennedy Square and
+whose cellar was famous the county over--and last, the Honorable Prim.
+Not because old Seymour possessed any especial fitness one way or the
+other for a dinner of this kind, but because his presence would afford
+an underground communication by which Kate could learn how fine and
+splendid Harry was--(sly old diplomat St. George!)--and how well he
+had appeared at a table about which were seated the best Kennedy Square
+could produce.
+
+“I'll put you right opposite Mr. Poe, Harry--so you can study him at
+your leisure,” St. George had said when discussing the placing of the
+guests, “and be sure you look at his hands, they are just like a girl's,
+they are so soft and white. And his eyes--you will never forget them.
+And there is an air about him too--an air of--well, a sort of haughty
+distraction--something I can't quite explain--as if he had a contempt
+for small things--things that you and I, and your father and all of us
+about here, believe in. Blood or no blood, he's a gentleman, even if he
+does come of very plain people;--and they were players I hear. It seems
+natural, when you think it over, that Latrobe and Kennedy and Horn
+should be men of genius, because their blood entitles them to it, but
+how a man raised as Mr. Poe has been should--well--all I can say is that
+he upsets all our theories.”
+
+“But I think you are wrong, Uncle George, about his birth. I've been
+looking him up and his grandfather was a general in the Revolution.”
+
+“Well, I'm glad of it--and I hope he was a very good general, and very
+much of a gentleman--but there is no question of his descendant being a
+wonder. But that is neither here nor there--you'll be right opposite and
+can study him in your own way.”
+
+
+Mr. Kennedy arrived first. Although his family name is the same as that
+which dignifies the scene of these chronicles, none of his ancestors, so
+far as I know, were responsible for its title. Nor did his own domicile
+front on its confines. In fact, at this period of his varied and
+distinguished life, he was seldom seen in Kennedy Square, his duties at
+Washington occupying all his time, and it was by the merest chance that
+he could be present.
+
+“Ah, St. George!” he exclaimed, as he handed his hat to Todd and grasped
+his host's hand. “So very good of you to let me come. How cool and
+delicious it is in here--and the superb roses--Ah yes!--the old
+Castellux cup. I remember it perfectly; your father once gave me a sip
+from its rim when I was a young fellow. And now tell me--how is our
+genius? What a master-stroke is his last--the whole country is ringing
+with it. How did you get hold of him?”
+
+“Very easily. He wrote me he was passing through on his way to Richmond,
+and you naturally popped into my head as the proper man to sit next
+him,” replied St. George in his hearty manner.
+
+“And you were on top of him, I suppose, before he got out of bed. Safer,
+sometimes,” and he smiled significantly.
+
+“Yes, found him at Guy's. Sit here, Kennedy, where the air is cooler.”
+
+“And quite himself?” continued the author, settling himself in a chair
+that St. George had just drawn out for him.
+
+“Perhaps a little thinner, and a little worn. It was only when I told
+him you were coming, that I got a smile out of him. He never forgets you
+and he never should.”
+
+Again Todd answered the knocker and Major Clayton, Richard Horn, and Mr.
+Latrobe joined the group. The major, who was rather stout, apologized
+for his light seersucker coat, due, as he explained, to the heat,
+although his other garments were above criticism. Richard, however,
+looked as if he had just stepped out of an old portrait in his dull-blue
+coat and white silk scarf, St. George's eyes lighting up as he took in
+the combination--nothing pleased St. George so much as a well-dressed
+man, and Richard never disappointed him, while Latrobe, both in his
+dress and dignified bearing, easily held first place as the most
+distinguished looking man in the room.
+
+The Honorable Prim now stalked in and shook hands gravely and with much
+dignity, especially with Mr. Kennedy, whose career as a statesman he
+had always greatly admired. St. George often said, in speaking of this
+manner of the Scotchman's, that Prim's precise pomposity was entirely
+due to the fact that he had swallowed himself and couldn't digest the
+meal; that if he would once in a while let out a big, hearty laugh it
+might split his skin wide enough for him to get a natural breath.
+
+St. George kept his eyes on Harry when the boy stepped forward and shook
+Prim by the hand, but he had no need for anxiety. The face of the young
+prince lighted up and his manner was as gracious as if nothing had ever
+occurred to mar the harmony between the Seymour clan and himself.
+
+Everybody had seated themselves now--Malachi having passed around a
+course of palm-leaf fans--Clayton, Latrobe, and Horn at one open window
+overlooking the tired trees--it was in the dog days--Seymour and the
+judge at the other, while St. George took a position so that he could
+catch the first glimpse of the famous poet as he crossed the Square--(it
+was still light), the dinner hour having arrived and Todd already
+getting nervous.
+
+Once more the talk dwelt on the guest of honor--Mr. Kennedy, who, of all
+men of his time, could best appreciate Poe's genius, and who, with Mr.
+Latrobe, had kept it alive, telling for the hundredth time the old story
+of his first meeting with the poet, turning now and then to Latrobe for
+confirmation.
+
+“Oh, some ten or more years ago, wasn't it, Latrobe? We happened to be
+on the committee for awarding a prize story, and Poe had sent in his
+'Manuscript in a Bottle' among others. It would have broken your hearts,
+gentlemen, to have seen him. His black coat was buttoned up close to his
+chin--seedy, badly worn--he himself shabby and down at the heels, but
+erect and extremely courteous--a most pitiable object. My servant wasn't
+going to let him in at first, he looked so much the vagrant.”
+
+“And you know, of course, Kennedy, that he had no shirt on under that
+coat, don't you?” rejoined Latrobe, rising from his seat as he spoke and
+joining St. George at the window.
+
+“Do you think so?” echoed Mr. Kennedy.
+
+“I am positive of it. He came to see me next day and wanted me to let
+him know whether he had been successful. He said if the committee only
+knew how much the prize would mean to him they would stretch a point in
+his favor. I am quite sure I told you about it at the time, St. George,”
+ and he laid his hand on his host's shoulder.
+
+“There was no need of stretching it, Latrobe,” remarked Richard Horn
+in his low, incisive voice, his eyes on Kennedy's face, although he
+was speaking to the counsellor. “You and Kennedy did the world a great
+service at the right moment. Many a man of brains--one with something
+new to say--has gone to the wall and left his fellow men that much
+poorer because no one helped him into the Pool of Healing at the
+right moment.” (Dear Richard!--he was already beginning to understand
+something of this in his own experience.)
+
+Todd's entrance interrupted the talk for a moment. His face was screwed
+up into knots, both eyes lost in the deepest crease. “Fo' Gawd, Marse
+George,” he whispered in his master's ear--“dem woodcock'll be sp'iled
+if dat gemman don't come!”
+
+St. George shook his head: “We will wait a few minutes more, Todd. Tell
+Aunt Jemima what I say.”
+
+Clayton, who despite the thinness of his seersucker coat, had kept his
+palm-leaf fan busy since he had taken his seat, and who had waited until
+his host's ear was again free, now broke in cheerily:
+
+“Same old story of course, St. George. Another genius gone astray. Bad
+business, this bee of literature, once it gets to buzzing.” Then with a
+quizzical glance at the author: “Kennedy is a lamentable example of what
+it has done for him. He started out as a soldier, dropped into law,
+and now is trying to break into Congress again--and all the time
+writes--writes--writes. It has spoiled everything he has tried to do
+in life--and it will spoil everything he touches from this on--and now
+comes along this man Poe, who--”
+
+“--No, he doesn't come along,” chimed in Pancoast, who so far had kept
+silence, his palm-leaf fan having done all the talking. “I wish he
+would.”
+
+“You are right, judge,” chuckled Clayton, “and that is just my point.
+Here I say, comes along this man Poe and spoils my dinner. Something,
+I tell you, has got to be done or I shall collapse. By the way,
+Kennedy--didn't you send Poe a suit of clothes once in which to come to
+your house?”
+
+The distinguished statesman, who had been smiling at the major's
+good-natured badinage, made no reply: that was a matter between the poet
+and himself.
+
+“And didn't he keep everybody waiting?” persisted Clayton, “until your
+man found him and brought him back in your own outfit--only the shirt
+was four sizes too big for his bean-pole of a body. Am I right?” he
+laughed.
+
+“He has often dined with me, Clayton,” replied Kennedy in his most
+courteous and kindly tone, ignoring the question as well as all allusion
+to his charity--“and never in all my experience have I ever met a more
+dazzling conversationalist. Start him on one of his weird tales and let
+him see that you are interested and in sympathy with him, and you will
+never forget it. He gave us parts of an unfinished story one night at my
+house, so tremendous in its power that every one was frozen stiff in his
+seat.”
+
+Again Clayton cut in, this time to St. George. He was getting horribly
+hungry, as were the others. It was now twenty minutes past the dinner
+hour and there were still no signs of Poe, nor had any word come from
+him. “For mercy's sake, St. George, try the suit-of-clothes method--any
+suit of clothes--here--he can have mine! I'll be twice as comfortable
+without them.”
+
+“He couldn't get into them,” returned St. George with a smile--“nor
+could he into mine, although he is half our weight; and as for our
+hats--they wouldn't get further down on his head than the top of his
+crown.”
+
+“But I insist on the experiment,” bubbled Clayton good-naturedly.
+“Here we are, hungry as wolves and everything being burned up. Try the
+suit-of-clothes trick--Kennedy did it--and it won't take your Todd ten
+minutes to go to Guy's and bring him back inside of them.”
+
+“Those days are over for Poe,” Kennedy remarked with a slight frown. The
+major's continued allusions to a brother writer's poverty, though pure
+badinage, had begun to jar on the author.
+
+For the second time Todd's face was thrust in at the door. It now looked
+like a martyr's being slowly roasted at the stake.
+
+“Yes, Todd--serve dinner!” called St. George in a tone that showed how
+great was his disappointment. “We won't wait any longer, gentlemen.
+Geniuses must be allowed some leeway. Something has detained our guest.”
+
+“He's got an idea in his head and has stopped in somewhere to write it
+down,” continued Clayton in his habitual good-natured tone: it was the
+overdone woodcock--(he had heard Todd's warning)--that still filled his
+mind.
+
+“I could forgive him for that,” exclaimed the judge--“some of his best
+work, I hear, has been done on the spur of the moment--and you should
+forgive him too, Clayton--unbeliever and iconoclast as you are--and you
+WOULD forgive him if you knew as much about new poetry as you do about
+old port.”
+
+Clayton's stout body shook with laughter. “My dear Pancoast,” he cried,
+“you do not know what you are talking about. No man living or dead
+should be forgiven who keeps a woodcock on the spit five minutes over
+time. Forgive him! Why, my dear sir, your poet ought to be drawn and
+quartered, and what is left of him boiled in oil. Where shall I sit, St.
+George?”
+
+“Alongside of Latrobe. Kennedy, I shall put you next to Poe's vacant
+chair--he knows and loves you best. Seymour, will you and Richard
+take your places alongside of Pancoast, and Harry, will you please sit
+opposite Mr. Kennedy?”
+
+And so the dinner began.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+
+Whether it was St. George's cheery announcement: “Well, gentlemen, I am
+sorry, but we still have each other, and so we will remember our guest
+in our hearts even if we cannot have his charming person,” or whether
+it was that the absence of Poe made little difference when a dinner with
+St. George was in question--certain it is that before many moments the
+delinquent poet was for the most part forgotten.
+
+As the several dishes passed in review, Malachi in charge of the small
+arms--plates, knives, and forks--and Todd following with the heavier
+guns--silver platters and the like--the talk branched out to more
+diversified topics: the new omnibuses which had been allowed to run in
+the town; the serious financial situation, few people having recovered
+from the effects of the last great panic; the expected reception to
+Mr. Polk; the new Historical Society, of which every one present was a
+member except St. George and Harry; the successful experiments which the
+New York painter, a Mr. Morse, was making in what he was pleased to call
+Magnetic Telegraphy, and the absurdity of his claim that his invention
+would soon come into general use--every one commenting unfavorably
+except Richard Horn:--all these shuttlecocks being tossed into mid-air
+for each battledore to crack, and all these, with infinite tact the
+better to hide his own and his companions' disappointment over the loss
+of his honored guest--did St. George keep on the move.
+
+With the shifting of the cloth and the placing of the coasters--the
+nuts, crusts of bread, and finger-bowls being within easy reach--most
+of this desultory talk ceased. Something more delicate, more human, more
+captivating than sport, finance, or politics; more satisfying than
+all the poets who ever lived, filled everybody's mind. Certain Rip Van
+Winkles of bottles with tattered garments, dust-begrimed faces, and
+cobwebs in their hair were lifted tenderly from the side-board and
+awakened to consciousness (some of them hadn't opened their mouths for
+twenty years, except to have them immediately stopped with a new cork),
+and placed in the expectant coasters, Todd handling each one with the
+reverence of a priest serving in a temple. Crusty, pot-bellied old
+fellows, who hadn't uttered a civil word to anybody since they had
+been shut up in their youth, now laughed themselves wide open. A
+squat, lean-necked, jolly little jug without legs--labelled in
+ink--“Crab-apple, 1807,” spread himself over as much of the mahogany
+as he could cover, and admired his fat shape upside down in its polish.
+Diamond-cut decanters--regular swells these--with silver chains and
+medals on their chests--went swaggering round, boasting of their
+ancestors; saying “Your good health” every time any one invited them to
+have a drop--or lose one--while a modest little demijohn--or rather a
+semi-demi-little-john--all in his wicker-basket clothes, with a card
+sewed on his jacket--like a lost boy (Peggy Coston of Wesley did the
+sewing) bearing its name and address--“Old Peach, 1796, Wesley, Eastern
+Shore,” was placed on St. George's right within reach of his hand. “It
+reminds me of the dear woman herself, gentleman, in her homely outside
+and her warm, loving heart underneath, and I wouldn't change any part of
+it for the world.”
+
+“What Madeira is this, St. George?” It was the judge who was
+speaking--he had not yet raised the thin glass to his lips; the old
+wine-taster was too absorbed in its rich amber color and in the delicate
+aroma, which was now reaching his nostrils. Indeed a new--several new
+fragrances, were by this time permeating the room.
+
+“It is the same, judge, that I always give you.”
+
+“Not your father's Black Warrior?”
+
+“Yes, the 1810. Don't you recognize it? Not corked, is it?”
+
+“Corked, my dear man! It's a posy of roses. But I thought that was all
+gone.”
+
+“No, there are a few bottles still in my cellar--some--How many are
+there, Todd, of the Black Warrior?”
+
+“Dat's de las' 'cept two, Marse George.”
+
+“Dying in a good cause, judge--I'll send them to you to-morrow.”
+
+“You'll do nothing of the kind, you spendthrift. Give them to Kennedy or
+Clayton.”
+
+“No, give them to nobody!” laughed Kennedy. “Keep them where they are
+and don't let anybody draw either cork until you invite me to dinner
+again.”
+
+“Only two bottles left,” cried Latrobe in consternation! “Well, what the
+devil are we going to do when they are gone?--what's anybody going to
+do?” The “we” was the key to the situation. The good Madeira of Kennedy
+Square was for those who honored it, and in that sense--and that sense
+only--was common property.
+
+“Don't be frightened, Latrobe,” laughed St. George--“I've got a lot
+of the Blackburn Reserve of 1812 left. Todd, serve that last bottle
+I brought up this morning--I put it in that low decanter next to--Ah,
+Malachi--you are nearest. Pass that to Mr. Latrobe, Malachi--Yes, that's
+the one. Now tell me how you like it. It is a little pricked, I think,
+and may be slightly bruised in the handling. I spent half an hour
+picking out the cork this morning--but there is no question of its
+value.”
+
+“Yes,” rejoined Latrobe, moistening his lips with the topaz-colored
+liquid--“it is a little bruised. I wouldn't have served it--better lay
+it aside for a month or two in the decanter. Are all your corks down to
+that, St. George?”
+
+“All the 1810 and '12--dry as powder some of them. I've got one over
+on the sideboard that I'm afraid to tackle”--here he turned to Clayton:
+“Major, you are the only man I know who can pick out a cork properly.
+Yes, Todd--the bottle at the end, next to that Burgundy--carefully now.
+Don't shake it, and--”
+
+“Well--but why don't YOU draw the cork yourself, St. George?”
+ interrupted the major, his eyes on Todd, who was searching for the
+rarity among the others flanking the sideboard.
+
+“I dare not--that is, I'm afraid to try. You are the man for a cork
+like that--and Todd!--hand Major Clayton the corkscrew and one of those
+silver nutpicks.”
+
+The Honorable Prim bent closer. “What is it, St. George, some old Port?”
+ he asked in a perfunctory way. Rare old wines never interested him.
+“They are an affectation,” he used to say.
+
+“No, Seymour--it's really a bottle of the Peter Remsen 1817 Madeira.”
+
+The bottle was passed, every eye watching it with the greatest interest.
+
+“No, never mind the corkscrew, Todd,--I'll pick it out,” remarked
+the major, examining the hazardous cork with the care of a watchmaker
+handling a broken-down chronometer. “You're right, St. George--it's too
+far gone. Don't watch me, Seymour, or I'll get nervous. You'll hoodoo
+it--you Scotchmen are the devil when it comes to anything fit to drink,”
+ and he winked at Prim.
+
+“How much is there left of it, St. George?” asked Latrobe, watching the
+major manipulate the nutpick.
+
+“Not a drop outside that bottle.”
+
+“Let us pray--for the cork,” sighed Latrobe. “Easy--E-A-SY, major--think
+of your responsibility, man!”
+
+It was out now, the major dusting the opening with one end of his
+napkin--his face wreathed in smiles when his nostrils caught the first
+whiff of its aroma.
+
+“By Jupiter!--gentlemen!--When I'm being snuffed out I'll at least go
+like a gentleman if I have a drop of this on my lips. It's a bunch
+of roses--a veritable nosegay. Heavens!--what a bouquet! Some fresh
+glasses, Todd.”
+
+Malachi and Todd both stepped forward for the honor of serving it, but
+the major waved them aside, and rising to his feet began the round of
+the table, filling each slender pipe-stem glass to the brim.
+
+Then the talk, which had long since drifted away from general topics,
+turned to the color and sparkle of some of the more famous wines
+absorbed these many years by their distinguished votaries. This
+was followed by the proper filtration and racking both of Ports and
+Madeiras, and whether milk or egg were best for the purpose--Kennedy
+recounting his experience of different vintages both here and abroad,
+the others joining in, and all with the same intense interest that a
+group of scientists or collectors would have evinced in discussing some
+new discovery in chemistry or physics, or the coming to light of some
+rare volume long since out of print--everybody, indeed, taking a hand
+in the discussion except Latrobe, whose mouth was occupied in the slow
+sipping of his favorite Madeira--tilting a few drops now and then on
+the end of his tongue, his eyes devoutly closed that he might the better
+relish its flavor and aroma.
+
+It was all an object lesson to Harry, who had never been to a dinner of
+older men--not even at his father's--and though at first he smiled at
+what seemed to him a great fuss over nothing, he finally began to take
+a broader view. Wine, then, was like food or music, or poetry--or
+good-fellowship--something to be enjoyed in its place--and never out of
+it. For all that, he had allowed no drop of anything to fall into his
+own glass--a determination which Todd understood perfectly, but which he
+as studiously chose to ignore--going through all the motions of filling
+the glass so as not to cause Marse Harry any embarrassment. Even the
+“1817” was turned down by the young man with a parrying gesture which
+caught the alert eyes of the major.
+
+“You are right, my boy,” the bon vivant said sententiously. “It is a
+wine for old men. But look after your stomach, you dog--or you may wake
+up some fine morning and not be able to know good Madeira from bad. You
+young bloods, with your vile concoctions of toddies, punches, and other
+satanic brews, are fast going to the devil--your palates, I am speaking
+of. If you ever saw the inside of a distillery you would never drink
+another drop of whiskey. There's poison in every thimbleful. There's
+sunshine in this, sir!” and he held the glass to his eyes until the
+light of the candles flashed through it.
+
+“But I've never seen the inside or outside of a distillery in my life,”
+ answered Harry with a laugh, a reply which did not in the least quench
+the major's enthusiasms, who went on dilating, wine-glass in hand, on
+the vulgarity of drinking STANDING UP--the habitual custom of whiskey
+tipplers--in contrast with the refinement of sipping wines SITTING
+DOWN--one being a vice and the other a virtue.
+
+Richard, too, had been noticing Harry. He had overheard, as the dinner
+progressed, a remark the boy had made to the guest next him, regarding
+the peculiar rhythm of Poe's verse--Harry repeating the closing lines
+of the poem with such keen appreciation of their meaning that Richard
+at once joined in the talk, commending him for his insight and
+discrimination. He had always supposed that Rutter's son, like all the
+younger bloods of his time, had abandoned his books when he left college
+and had affected horses and dogs instead. The discovery ended in his
+scrutinizing Harry's face the closer, reading between the lines--his
+father here, his mother there--until a quick knitting of the brows,
+and a flash from out the deep-brown eyes, upset all his preconceived
+opinions; he had expected grit and courage in the boy--there couldn't
+help being that when one thought of his father--but where did the lad
+get his imagination? Richard wondered--that which millions could not
+purchase. “A most engaging young man in spite of his madcap life,” he
+said to himself--“I don't wonder St. George loves him.”
+
+When the bell in the old church struck the hour of ten, Harry again
+turned to Richard and said with a sigh of disappointment:
+
+“I'm afraid it's too late to expect him--don't you think so?”
+
+“Yes, I fear so,” rejoined Richard, who all through the dinner had never
+ceased to bend his ear to every sound, hoping for the rumble of wheels
+or the quick step of a man in the hall. “Something extraordinary must
+have happened to him, or he may have been called suddenly to Richmond
+and taken the steamboat.” Then leaning toward his host he called across
+the table: “Might I make a suggestion, St. George?”
+
+St. George paused in his talk with Mr. Kennedy and Latrobe and raised
+his head:
+
+“Well, Richard?”
+
+“I was just saying to young Rutter here, that perhaps Mr. Poe has
+been called suddenly to Richmond and has sent you a note which has not
+reached you.”
+
+“Or he might be ill,” suggested Harry in his anxiety to leave no
+loophole through which the poet could escape.
+
+“Or he might be ill,” repeated Richard--“quite true. Now would you mind
+if I sent Malachi to Guy's to find out?”
+
+“No, Richard--but I'll send Todd. We can get along, I expect, with
+Malachi until he gets back. Todd!”
+
+“Yes, sah.”
+
+“You go to Guy's and ask Mr. Lampson if Mr. Poe is still in the hotel.
+If he is not there ask for any letter addressed to me and then come
+back. If he is in, go up to his room and present my compliments, and say
+we are waiting dinner for him.”
+
+Todd's face lengthened, but he missed no word of his master's
+instructions. Apart from these his mind was occupied with the number of
+minutes it would take him to run all the way to Guy's Hotel, mount the
+steps, deliver his message, and race back again. Malachi, who was nearly
+twice his age, and who had had twice his experience, might be all right
+until he reached that old Burgundy, but “dere warn't nobody could handle
+dem corks but Todd; Malachi'd bust 'em sho' and spile 'em 'fo' he could
+git back.”
+
+“'Spose dere ain't no gemman and no letter, den what?” he asked as a
+last resort.
+
+“Then come straight home.”
+
+“Yes, sah,” and he backed regretfully from the room and closed the door
+behind him.
+
+St. George turned to Horn again: “Very good idea, Richard--wonder I
+hadn't thought of it before. I should probably had I not expected
+him every minute. And he was so glad to come. He told me he had never
+forgotten the dinner at Kennedy's some years ago, and when he heard you
+would be here as well, his whole face lighted up. I was also greatly
+struck with the improvement in his appearance, he seemed more a man of
+the world than when I first knew him--carried himself better and was
+more carefully dressed. This morning when I went in he--”
+
+The door opened silently, and Todd, trembling all over, laid his hand on
+his master's shoulder, cutting short his dissertation.
+
+“Marse George, please sah, can I speak to you a minute?” The boy looked
+as if he had just seen a ghost.
+
+“Speak to me! Why haven't you taken my message, Todd?”
+
+“Yes, sah--dat is--can't ye step in de hall a minute, Marse
+George--now--right away?”
+
+“The hall!--what for?--is there anything the matter?”
+
+St. George pushed back his chair and followed Todd from the room:
+something had gone wrong--something demanding instant attention or Todd
+wouldn't be scared out of his wits. Those nearest him, who had overheard
+Todd's whispered words, halted in their talk in the hope of getting some
+clew to the situation; others, further away, kept on, unconscious that
+anything unusual had taken place.
+
+Several minutes passed.
+
+Again the door swung wide, and a man deathly pale, erect, faultlessly
+dressed in a full suit of black, the coat buttoned close to his chin,
+his cavernous eyes burning like coals of fire, entered on St. George's
+arm and advanced toward the group.
+
+Every guest was on his feet in an instant.
+
+“We have him at last!” cried St. George in his cheeriest voice. “A
+little late, but doubly welcome. Mr. Poe, gentlemen.”
+
+Kennedy was the first to extend his hand, Horn crowding close, the
+others waiting their turn.
+
+Poe straightened his body, focussed his eyes on Kennedy, shook his
+extended hand gravely, but without the slightest sign of recognition,
+and repeated the same cold greeting to each guest in the room. He spoke
+no word--did not open his lips--only the mechanical movement of his
+outstretched hand--a movement so formal that it stifled all exclamations
+of praise on the part of the guests, or even of welcome. It was as if he
+had grasped the hands of strangers beside an open grave.
+
+Then the cold, horrible truth flashed upon them:
+
+Edgar Allan Poe was dead drunk!
+
+
+The silence that followed was appalling--an expectant silence like that
+which precedes the explosion of a bomb. Kennedy, who had known him
+the longest and best, and who knew that if his mind could once be set
+working he would recover his tongue and wits, having seen him before in
+a similar crisis, stepped nearer and laid both hands on Poe's shoulders.
+Get Poe to talking and he would be himself again; let him once be
+seated, and ten chances to one he would fall asleep at the table.
+
+“No, don't sit down, Mr. Poe--not yet. Give us that great story of
+yours--the one you told at my house that night--we have never forgotten
+it. Gentlemen, all take your seats--I promise you one of the great
+treats of your lives.”
+
+Poe stood for an instant undecided, the light of the candles illumining
+his black hair, pallid face, and haggard features; fixed his eyes on
+Todd and Malachi, as if trying to account for their presence, and
+stood wavering, his deep, restless eyes gleaming like slumbering coals
+flashing points of hot light.
+
+Again Mr. Kennedy's voice rang out:
+
+“Any one of your stories, Mr. Poe--we leave it to you.”
+
+Everybody was seated now, with eyes fixed on the poet. Harry, overcome
+and still dazed, pressed close to Richard, who, bending forward, had put
+his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand. Clayton wheeled up a big
+chair and placed it back some little distance so that he could get a
+better view of the man. Seymour, Latrobe, and the others canted their
+seats to face the speaker squarely. All felt that Kennedy's tact had
+saved the situation and restored the equilibrium. It was the poet now
+who stood before them--the man of genius--the man whose name was known
+the country through. That he was drunk was only part of the performance.
+Booth had been drunk when he chased a super from the stage; Webster made
+his best speeches when he was half-seas-over--was making them at that
+very moment. It was so with many other men of genius the world over. If
+they could hear one of Poe's poems--or, better still, one of his short
+stories, like “The Black Cat” or the “Murders in the Rue Morgue”--it
+would be like hearing Emerson read one of his Essays or Longfellow
+recite his “Hyperion.” This in itself would atone for everything.
+Kennedy was right--it would be one of the rare treats of their lives.
+
+Poe grasped the back of the chair reserved for him, stood swaying for an
+instant, passed one hand nervously across his forehead, brushed back a
+stray lock that had fallen over his eyebrow, loosened the top button
+of his frock coat, revealing a fresh white scarf tied about his neck,
+closed his eyes, and in a voice deep, sonorous, choked with tears one
+moment, ringing clear the next--word by word--slowly--with infinite
+tenderness and infinite dignity and with the solemnity of a condemned
+man awaiting death--repeated the Lord's Prayer to the end.
+
+
+Kennedy sat as if paralyzed. Richard Horn, who had lifted up his hands
+in horror as the opening sentence reached his ears, lowered his head
+upon his chest as he would in church. There was no blasphemy in this! It
+was the wail of a lost soul pleading for mercy!
+
+Harry, cowering in his chair, gazed at Poe in amazement. Then a throb of
+such sympathy as he had never felt before shook him to his depths. Could
+that transfigured man praying there, the undried tears still on his
+lids, be the same who had entered on his uncle's arm but a few moments
+before?
+
+Poe lifted his head, opened his eyes, walked in a tired, hopeless way
+toward the mantel and sank into an easy-chair. There he sat with bowed
+head, his face in his hands.
+
+One by one the men rose to their feet and, with a nod or silent pressure
+of St. George's palm, moved toward the door. When they spoke to each
+other it was in whispers: to Todd, who brought their hats and canes; to
+Harry, whom, unconsciously, they substituted for host; shaking his hand,
+muttering some word of sympathy for St. George. No--they would find
+their way, better not disturb his uncle, etc. They would see him in
+the morning, etc., and thus the group passed out in a body and left the
+house.
+
+Temple himself was profoundly moved. The utter helplessness of the man;
+his abject and complete surrender to the demon which possessed him--all
+this appalled him. He had seen many drunken men in his time--roysterers
+and brawlers, most of them--but never one like Poe. The poet seemed to
+have lost his identity--nothing of the man of the world was left--in
+speech, thought, or movement.
+
+When Harry re-entered, his uncle was sitting beside the poet, who had
+not yet addressed him a word; nor had he again raised his head. Every
+now and then the sound of an indrawn breath would escape Poe, as if hot
+tears were choking him.
+
+St. George waved his hand meaningly.
+
+“Tell Todd I'll ring for him when I want him, Harry,” he whispered, “and
+now do you go to sleep.” Then, pointing to the crouching man, “He must
+stay in my bed here to-night; I won't leave him. What a pity! O God!
+what a pity! Poor fellow--how sorry I am for him!”
+
+Harry was even more affected. Terrified and awestruck, he mounted the
+stairs to his room, locked his chamber door, and threw himself on his
+bed, his mother's and Kate's pleadings sounding in his ears, his mind
+filled with the picture of the poet standing erect with closed eyes, the
+prayer his mother had taught him falling from his lips. This, then,
+was what his mother and Kate meant--this--the greatest of all
+calamities--the overthrow of a MAN.
+
+For the hundredth time he turned his wandering search-light into his own
+heart. The salient features of his own short career passed in review:
+the fluttering of the torn card as it fell to the floor; the sharp crack
+of Willits's pistol; the cold, harsh tones of his father's voice when
+he ordered him from the house; Kate's dear eyes streaming with tears
+and her uplifted hands--their repellent palms turned toward him as she
+sobbed--“Go away--my heart is broken!” And then the refrain of the poem
+which of late had haunted him night and day:
+
+     “Disaster following fast and following faster,
+     Till his song one burden bore,”
+
+and then the full, rich tones of Poe's voice pleading with his Maker:
+
+“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
+
+Yes:--Disaster had followed fast and faster. But why had it followed
+him? What had he done to bring all this misery upon himself? How could
+he have acted differently? Wherein had he broken any law he had been
+taught to uphold, and if he had broken it why should he not be forgiven?
+Why, too, had Kate turned away from him? He had promised her never to
+drink again; he had kept that promise, and, God helping him, he would
+always keep it, as would any other man who had seen what he had just
+seen to-night. Perhaps he had trespassed in the duel, and yet he would
+fight Willits again were the circumstances the same, and in this view
+Uncle George upheld him. But suppose he had trespassed--suppose he had
+committed a fault--as his father declared--why should not Kate forgive
+him? She had forgiven Willits, who was drunk, and yet she would not
+forgive him, who had not allowed a drop to pass his lips since he had
+given her his promise. How could she, who could do no wrong, expect to
+be forgiven herself when she not only shut her door in his face, but
+left him without a word or a line? How could his father ask forgiveness
+of his God when he would not forgive his son? Why were these two
+different from his mother and his Uncle George, and even old Alec--who
+had nothing but sympathy for him? Perhaps his education and training
+had been at fault. Perhaps, as Richard Horn had said, his standards of
+living were old-fashioned and quixotic.
+
+Only when the gray dawn stole in through the small window of his room
+did the boy fall asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+
+Not only Kennedy Square, but Moorlands, rang with accounts of the dinner
+and its consequences. Most of those who were present and who witnessed
+the distressing spectacle had only words of sympathy for the unfortunate
+man--his reverent manner, his contrite tones, and abject humiliation
+disarming their criticism. They felt that some sudden breaking down
+of the barriers of his will, either physical or mental, had led to the
+catastrophe. Richard Horn voiced the sentiments of Poe's sympathizers
+when, in rehearsing the episode the next afternoon at the club, he had
+said:
+
+“His pitiable condition, gentlemen, was not the result of debauchery.
+Poe neither spoke nor acted like a drunken man; he spoke and acted like
+a man whom a devil had overcome. It was pathetic, gentlemen, and it was
+heart-rending--really the most pitiful sight I ever remember witnessing.
+His anguish, his struggle, and his surrender I shall never forget; nor
+will his God--for the prayer came straight from his heart.”
+
+“I don't agree with you, Horn,” interrupted Clayton. “Poe was plumb
+drunk! It is the infernal corn whiskey he drinks that puts the devil
+in him. It may be he can't get anything else, but it's a damnable
+concoction all the same. Kennedy has about given him up--told me so
+yesterday, and when Kennedy gives a fellow up that's the last of him.”
+
+“Then I'm ashamed of Kennedy,” retorted Horn. “Any man who can write as
+Poe does should be forgiven, no matter what he does--if he be honest.
+There's nothing so rare as genius in this world, and even if his flame
+does burn from a vile-smelling wick it's a flame, remember!--and one
+that will yet light the ages. If I know anything of the literature
+of our time Poe will live when these rhymers like Mr. Martin Farquhar
+Tupper, whom everybody is talking about, will be forgotten. Poe's
+possessed of a devil, I tell you, who gets the better of him once in a
+while--it did the night of St. George's dinner.”
+
+“Very charitable in you, Richard,” exclaimed Pancoast, another
+dissenter--“and perhaps it will be just as well for his family, if he
+has any, to accept your view--but, devil or no devil, you must confess,
+Horn, that it was pretty hard on St. George. If the man has any sense of
+refinement--and he must have from the way he writes--the best way out of
+it is for him to own up like a man and say that Guy's barkeeper filled
+him too full of raw whiskey, and that he didn't come to until it was too
+late--that he was very sorry, and wouldn't do it again. That's what I
+would have done, and that's what you, Richard, or any other gentleman,
+would have done.”
+
+Others, who got their information second hand, followed the example of
+St. George's guests censuring or excusing the poet in accordance with
+their previous likes or dislikes. The “what-did-I-tell-yous”--Bowdoin
+among them--and there were several--broke into roars of laughter when
+they learned what had happened in the Temple mansion. So did those who
+had not been invited, and who still felt some resentment at St. George's
+oversight.
+
+Another group; and these were also to be found at the club--thought only
+of St. George--old Murdock, voicing their opinions when he said: “Temple
+laid himself out, so I hear, on that dinner, and some of us know what
+that means. And a dinner like that, remember, counts with St. George. In
+the future it will be just as well to draw the line at poets as well as
+actors.”
+
+The Lord of Moorlands had no patience with any of their views. Whether
+Poe was a drunkard or not did not concern him in the least. What did
+trouble him was the fact that St. George's cursed independence had made
+him so far forget himself and his own birth and breeding as to place a
+chair at his table for a man in every way beneath him. Hospitality of
+that kind was understandable in men like Kennedy and Latrobe--one the
+leading literary light of his State, whose civic duties brought him in
+contact with all classes--the other a distinguished man of letters as
+well as being a poet, artist, and engineer, who naturally touched the
+sides of many personalities. So, too, might Richard Horn be excused for
+stretching the point--he being a scientist whose duty it was to welcome
+to his home many kinds of people--this man Morse among them, with his
+farcical telegraph; a man in the public eye who seemed to be more or
+less talked about in the press, but of whom he himself knew nothing, but
+why St. George Temple, who in all probability had never read a line
+of Poe's or anybody else's poetry in his life, should give this sot a
+dinner, and why such sane gentlemen as Seymour, Clayton, and
+Pancoast should consider it an honor to touch elbows with him, was as
+unaccountable as it was incredible.
+
+Furthermore--and this is what rankled deepest in his heart--St. George
+was subjecting his only son, Harry, to corrupting influences, and at a
+time, too, when the boy needed the uplifting examples of all that was
+highest in men and manners.
+
+“And you tell me, Alec,” he blazed out on hearing the details, “that
+the fellow never appeared until the dinner was all over and then came in
+roaring drunk?”
+
+“Well, sah, I ain't yered nothin' 'bout de roarin', but he suttinly was
+'how-come-ye-so'--fer dey couldn't git 'im upstairs 'less dey toted him
+on dere backs. Marse George Temple gin him his own baid an' sot up mos'
+ob de night, an' dar he stayed fur fo' days till he come to. Dat's what
+Todd done tol' me, an' I reckon Todd knows.”
+
+The colonel was in his den when this conversation took place. He was
+generally to be found there since the duel. Often his wife, or Alec, or
+some of his neighbors would surprise him buried in his easy-chair, an
+unopened book in his hand, his eyes staring straight ahead as if trying
+to grasp some problem which repeatedly eluded him. After the episode at
+the club he became more absorbed than ever. It was that episode, indeed,
+which had vexed him most. Not that St. George's tongue-lashing worried
+him--nor did Harry's blank look of amazement linger in his thoughts. St.
+George, he had to confess to himself as he battled with the questions,
+was the soul of honor and had not meant to insult him. It was Temple's
+love for Harry which had incited the quixotic onslaught, for, as he
+knew, St. George dearly loved the boy, and this in itself wiped all
+resentment from the autocrat's heart. As to Harry's attitude toward
+himself, this he continued to reason was only a question of time. That
+young upstart had not learned his lesson yet--a harsh lesson, it was
+true, and one not understood by the world at large--but then the world
+was not responsible for his son's bringing up. When the boy had learned
+it, and was willing to acknowledge the error of his ways, then, perhaps,
+he might kill the fatted calf--that is, of course, if the prodigal
+should return on all fours and with no stilted and untenable ideas about
+his rights--ideas that St. George, of course, was instilling into him
+every chance he got.
+
+So far, however, he had had to admit to himself that while he had kept
+steady watch of the line of hills skirting his mental horizon, up to
+the present moment no young gentleman in a dilapidated suit of clothes,
+inverted waist measure, and lean legs had shown himself above the sky
+line. On the contrary, if all reports were true--and Alec omitted no
+opportunity to keep him advised of Marse Harry's every movement--the
+young Lord of Moorlands was having the time of his life, even if his
+sweetheart had renounced him and his father forced him into exile. Not
+only had he found a home and many comforts at Temple's--being treated as
+an honored guest alongside of such men as Kennedy and Latrobe, Pancoast,
+and the others, but now that St. George had publicly declared him to
+be his heir, these distinctive marks of his approbation were likely
+to continue. Nor could he interfere, even if he wished to--which, of
+course, he did not, and never could so long as he lived.... “Damn him!”
+ etc., etc. And with this the book would drop from his lap and he begin
+pacing the floor, his eyes on the carpet, his broad shoulders bent in
+his anxiety to solve the problem which haunted him night and day:--how
+to get Harry back under his roof and not yield a jot or tittle of his
+pride or will--or, to be more explicit, now that the mountain would not
+come to Mahomet, how could Mahomet get over to the mountain?
+
+His friend and nearest neighbor, John Gorsuch, who was also his man
+of business, opened the way. The financier's clerk had brought him
+a letter, just in by the afternoon coach, and with a glance at its
+contents the shrewd old fellow had at once ordered his horse and set
+out for Moorlands, some two miles distant. Nor did he draw rein or break
+gallop until he threw the lines to a servant beside the lower step of
+the colonel's porch.
+
+“It's the Patapsco again! It will close its doors before the week is
+out!” he cried, striding into the library, where the colonel, who had
+just come in from inspecting a distant field on his estate, sat dusting
+his riding-boots with his handkerchief.
+
+“Going to stop payment! Failed! What the devil do you mean, John?”
+
+“I mean just what I say! Everything has gone to bally-hack in the city.
+Here's a letter I have just received from Harding--he's on the inside,
+and knows. He thinks there's some crooked business about it; they have
+been loaning money on all sorts of brick-bats, he says, and the end has
+come, or will to-morrow. He wanted to post me in time.”
+
+The colonel tossed his handkerchief on his writing-table: “Who will be
+hurt?” he asked hurriedly, ignoring the reference to the dishonesty of
+the directors.
+
+“Oh!--a lot of people. Temple, I know, keeps his account there. He was
+short of cash a little while ago, for young Pawson, who has his law
+office in the basement of his house, offered me a mortgage on his
+Kennedy Square property, but I hadn't the money at the time and didn't
+take it. If he got it at last--and he paid heavily for it if he did--the
+way things have been going--and if he put that money in the Patapsco, it
+will be a bad blow to him. Harry, I hear, is with him--so I thought you
+ought to know.”
+
+Rutter had given a slight start at the mention of Temple's name among
+the crippled, and a strange glitter still lingered in his eyes.
+
+“Then I presume my son is dependent on a beggar,” he exclaimed, rising
+from his seat, stripping off his brown velveteen riding-jacket and
+hanging it in a closet behind his chair.
+
+“Yes, it looks that way.”
+
+Gorsuch was watching the colonel closely. He had another purpose in
+making his breakneck ride. He didn't have a dollar in the Patapsco, and
+he knew the colonel had not; he, like himself, was too shrewd a man to
+be bitten twice by the same dog; but he had a large interest in Harry
+and would leave no stone unturned to bring father and son together.
+
+The colonel again threw himself into his chair, stretched out
+his slender, well-turned legs, crooked one of his russet-leather
+riding-boots to be sure the spurs were still in place, and said
+slowly--rather absently, as if the subject did not greatly interest him:
+
+“Patapsco failed and St. George a beggar, eh?--Too bad!--too bad!” Then
+some disturbing suspicions must have entered his head, for he roused
+himself, looked at Gorsuch keenly, and asked in a searching tone: “And
+you came over full tilt, John, to tell me this?”
+
+“I thought you might help. St. George needs all the friends he's got if
+this is true--and it looks to me as if it was,” answered Gorsuch in a
+casual way.
+
+Rutter relaxed his gaze and resumed his position. Had his suspicions
+been correct that Gorsuch's interest in Harry was greater than his
+interest in the bank's failure, he would have resented it even from John
+Gorsuch.
+
+Disarmed by the cool, unflinching gaze of his man of business, his mind
+again took up in review all the incidents connected with St. George and
+his son, and what part each had played in them.
+
+That Temple--good friend as he had always been--had thwarted him in
+every attempt to bring about a reconciliation between himself and Harry,
+had been apparent from the very beginning of the difficulty. Even
+the affair at the club showed it. This would have ended quite
+differently--and he had fully intended it should--had not St. George,
+with his cursed officiousness, interfered with his plans. For what he
+had really proposed to himself to do, on that spring morning when he had
+rolled up to the club in his coach, was to mount the steps, ignore his
+son at first, if he should run up against him--(and he had selected the
+very hour when he hoped he would run up against him)--and then, when the
+boy broke down, as he surely must, to forgive him like a gentleman and
+a Rutter, and this, too, before everybody. Seymour would see it--Kate
+would hear of it, and the honor of the Rutters remain unblemished.
+Moreover, this would silence once and for all those gabblers who had
+undertaken to criticise him for what they called his inhumanity in
+banishing this only son when he was only trying to bring up that child
+in the way he should go. Matters seemed to be coming his way. The
+failure of the Patapsco might be his opportunity. St. George would be at
+his wits' end; Harry would be forced to choose between the sidewalk and
+Moorlands, and the old life would go on as before.
+
+All these thoughts coursed through his mind as he leaned back in his
+chair, his lips tight set, the jaw firm and determined--only the lids
+quivering as he mastered the tears that crept to their edges. Now and
+then, in his mental absorption, he would absently cross his legs only
+to straighten them out again, his state of mind an open book to Gorsuch,
+who had followed the same line of reasoning and who had brought the news
+himself that he might the better watch its effect.
+
+“I'm surprised that Temple should select the Patapsco. It has never got
+over its last smash of four years ago,” Gorsuch at last remarked. He did
+not intend to let the topic drift away from Harry if he could help it.
+
+“I am not surprised, John. St. George is the best fellow in the world,
+but he never lets anything work but his heart. When you get at the
+bottom of it you will find that he's backed up the bank because some
+poor devil of a teller or clerk, or may be some director, is his friend.
+That's enough for St. George, and further than that he never goes. He's
+thrown away two fortunes now--his grandmother's, which was small but
+sound--and his father's, which if he had attended to it would have kept
+him comfortable all his life.”
+
+“You had some words at the club, I heard,” interjected Gorsuch.
+
+“No, he had some words, I had a julep,” and the colonel smiled grimly.
+
+“But you are still on good terms, are you not?”
+
+“I am, but he isn't. But that is of no consequence. No man in his senses
+would ever get angry with St. George, no matter what he might say or
+do. He hasn't a friend in the world who could be so ill bred. And as to
+calling him out--you would as soon think of challenging your wife. St.
+George talks from his heart, never his head. I have loved him for thirty
+years and know exactly what I am talking about--and yet let me tell
+you, Gorsuch, that with all his qualities--and he is the finest-bred
+gentleman I know--he can come closer to being a natural born fool than
+any man of his years and position in Kennedy Square. This treatment of
+my son--whom I am trying to bring up a gentleman--is one proof of
+it, and this putting all his eggs into one basket--and that a rotten
+basket--is another.”
+
+“Well, then--if that is your feeling about it, colonel, why not go and
+see him? As I have said, he needs all the friends he's got at a time
+like this.” If he could bring the two men together the boy might
+come home. Not to be able to wave back to Harry as he dashed past on
+Spitfire, had been a privation which the whole settlement had felt.
+“That is, of course,” he continued, “if St. George Temple would be
+willing to receive you. He would be--wouldn't he?”
+
+“I don't know, John--and I don't care. If I should make up my mind to
+go--remember, I said 'IF'--I'd go whether he liked it or not.”
+
+He HAD made up his mind--had made it up at the precise moment the
+announcement of the bank's failure and St. George's probable ruin had
+dropped from Gorsuch's lips--but none of this must Gorsuch suspect. He
+would still be the doge and Virginius; he alone must be the judge of
+when and how and where he would show leniency. Generations of Rutters
+were behind him--this boy was in the direct line--connecting the past
+with the present--and on Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands, and on
+no other, rested the responsibility of keeping the glorious name
+unsmirched.
+
+
+Todd, with one of the dogs at his heels, opened the door for him,
+smothering a “Gor-a-Mighty!--sumpin's up fo' sho'!” when his hand
+turned the knob. He had heard the clatter of two horses and their sudden
+pull-up outside, and looking out, had read the situation at a glance.
+Old Matthew was holding the reins of both mounts at the moment, for the
+colonel always rode in state. No tying to hitching-posts or tree-boxes,
+or picking up of a loose negro to watch his restless steed when he had a
+stable full of thoroughbreds and quarters packed with grooms.
+
+“Yes, Marse Colonel--yes, sah--Marse George is inside--yes, sah--but
+Marse Harry's out.” He had not asked for Harry, but Todd wanted him to
+get all the facts in case there was to be another such scene as black
+John described had taken place at the club on the occasion of the
+colonel's last visit to the Chesapeake.
+
+“Then I'll go in unannounced, and you need not wait, Todd.”
+
+St. George was in his arm-chair by the mantel looking over one of his
+heavy ducking-guns when the Lord of Moorlands entered. He was the
+last man in the world he expected to see, but he did not lose his
+self-control or show in any way his surprise. He was host, and Rutter
+was his guest; nothing else counted now.
+
+St. George rose to his feet, laid the gun carefully on the table, and
+with a cold smile on his face--one of extreme courtesy--advanced to
+greet him.
+
+“Ah, Talbot--it has been some time since I had this pleasure. Let me
+draw up a chair for you--I'll ring for Todd and--”
+
+“No, St. George. I prefer to talk to you alone.”
+
+“Todd is never an interruption.”
+
+“He may be to-day. I have something to say to you--and I don't want
+either to be interrupted or misunderstood. You and I have known each
+other too many years to keep up this quarrel; I am getting rather sick
+of it myself.”
+
+St. George shrugged his shoulders, placed the gun carefully in the rack
+by the door, and maintained an attentive attitude. He would either fight
+or make peace, but he must first learn the conditions. In the meantime
+he would hold his peace.
+
+Rutter strode past him to the fireplace, opened his riding-jacket, laid
+his whip on the mantel, and with his hands deep in his breeches pockets
+faced the room and his host, who had again taken his place by the table.
+
+“The fact is, St. George, I have been greatly disturbed of late by
+reports which have reached me about my son. He is with you, I presume?”
+
+St. George nodded.
+
+Rutter waited for a verbal reply, and receiving none, forged on: “Very
+greatly disturbed; so much so that I have made an especial trip from
+Moorlands to call upon you and ascertain their truth.”
+
+Again St. George nodded, the smile--one of extreme civility now--still
+on his face. Then he added, flicking some stray grains of tobacco from
+his sleeve with his fingers: “That was very good of you, Talbot--but go
+on--I'm listening.”
+
+The colonel's eyes kindled. Temple's perfect repose--something he had
+not expected--was beginning to get on his nerves, He cleared his throat
+impressively and continued, his voice rising in intensity:
+
+“Instead of leading the life of a young man brought up as a gentleman,
+I hear he is consorting with the lowest class of people here in your
+house--people who--”
+
+“--Are my guests,” interrupted St. George calmly--loosening the buttons
+of his coat in search of his handkerchief--there being more tobacco on
+his clothes than he had supposed.
+
+“Yes, you have hit it exactly--your guests--and that is another thing I
+have come to tell you, for neither I nor your friends can understand how
+a man of your breeding should want to surround himself with----Is it
+necessary that you should understand, Talbot?”--same low, incisive but
+extremely civil voice, almost monotonous in its cadences. The cambric
+was in full play now.
+
+“Of course it is necessary when it affects my own flesh and blood. You
+know as well as I do that this sot, Poe, is not a fit companion for a
+boy raised as my Harry has been--a man picked out of the gutter--his
+family a lot of play-actors--even worse, I hear. A fellow who staggers
+into your house dead drunk and doesn't sober up for a week! It's
+scandalous!”
+
+Again St. George shrugged his shoulders, but one hand was tight shut
+this time, the steel claws protruding, the handkerchief alone saving
+their points from pressing into the palms.
+
+“And is that what you came from Moorlands to tell me, Talbot?” remarked
+St. George casually, adjusting the lapels of his coat.
+
+“Yes!” retorted Rutter--he was fast losing what was left of his
+self-control--“that and some other things! But we will attend to Harry
+first. You gave that boy shelter when--”
+
+“Please state it correctly, Talbot. We can get on better if you stick to
+the facts.” The words came slowly, but the enunciation was as perfect
+as if each syllable had been parted with a knife. “I didn't give him
+shelter--I gave him a home--one you denied him. But go on--I prefer to
+hear you out.”
+
+The colonel's eyes blazed. He had never seen St. George like this: it
+was Temple's hot outbursts that had made him so easy an adversary in
+their recent disputes.
+
+“And you will please do the same, St. George,” he demanded in his most
+top-lofty tone, ignoring his opponent's denial. “You know perfectly well
+I turned him out of Moorlands because he had disgraced his blood, and
+yet you--my life-long friend--have had the bad taste to interfere and
+drag him down still lower, so that now, instead of coming to his
+senses and asking my pardon, he parades himself at the club and at your
+dinners, putting on the airs of an injured man.”
+
+St. George drew himself up to his full height.
+
+“Let us change the subject, Talbot, or we will both forget ourselves.
+If you have anything to say to me that will benefit Harry and settle the
+difficulty between him and you, I will meet you more than half-way,
+but I give you fair warning that the apology must come from you. You
+have--if you will permit me to say it in my own house--behaved more like
+a brute than a father. I told you so the night you turned him out in the
+rain for me to take care of, and I told you so again at the club when
+you tried to make a laughing-stock of him before your friends--and now I
+tell you so once more! Come!--let us drop the subject--what may I offer
+you to drink?--you must be rather chilled with your ride in.”
+
+Rutter was about to flare out a denial when his better judgment got
+the best of him; some other tactics than the ones he had used must
+be brought into play. So far he had made but little headway against
+Temple's astounding coolness.
+
+“And I am to understand, then, that you are going to keep him here?”
+ he demanded, ignoring both his host's criticisms and his proffered
+hospitality.
+
+“I certainly am”--he was abreast of him now, his eyes boring into
+his--“just as long as he wishes to stay, which I hope will be all his
+life, or until you have learned to be decent to him. And by decency, I
+mean companionship, and love, and tenderness--three things which your
+damned, high-toned notions have always deprived him of!” His voice was
+still under control, although the emphasis was unmistakable.
+
+Rutter made a step forward, his eyes flashing, his teeth set:
+
+“You have the impertinence, sir, to charge me with----”
+
+“--Yes!--and it's true and you know it's true!”--the glance, steady as
+a rifle, had not wavered. “No, you needn't work yourself up into a
+passion--and as for your lordly, dictatorial airs, I am past the age
+when they affect me--keep them for your servants. By God!--what a farce
+it all is! Let us talk of something else--I am tired of it!”
+
+The words cut like a whip, but the Lord of Moorlands had come to get
+his son, not to fight St. George. Their sting, however, had completely
+changed his plans. Only the club which Gorsuch had put into his hands
+would count now.
+
+“Yes--a damnable farce!” he thundered, “and one played by a man with
+beggary staring him straight in the face, and yet to hear you talk one
+would think you were a Croesus! You mortgaged this house to get ready
+money, did you not?” He was not sure, but this was no time in which to
+split words.
+
+St. George turned quickly: “Who told you that?”
+
+“Is it true?”
+
+“Yes! Do you suppose I would let Harry sneak around corners to avoid his
+creditors?”
+
+The colonel gave an involuntary start, the blood mounting to the roots
+of his hair, and as suddenly paled:
+
+“You tell me that--you dared to--pay Harry's debts?” he stammered in
+amazement.
+
+“Dared!” retorted St. George, lifting his chin contemptuously. “Really,
+Talbot, you amuse me. When you set that dirty hound Gadgem on his trail,
+what did you expect me to do?--invite the dog to dinner?--or have him
+sleep in the house until I sold furniture enough to get rid of him?”
+
+The colonel leaned back against the mantel's edge as if for support.
+All the fight was out of him. Not only was the situation greatly
+complicated, but he himself was his host's debtor. The seriousness of
+the whole affair confronted him. For a brief instant he gazed at the
+floor, his eyes on the hearthrug, “Have you any money left, St. George?”
+ he asked. His voice was subdued enough now. Had he been his solicitor he
+could not have been more concerned.
+
+“Yes, a few thousand,” returned St. George. He saw that some unexpected
+shot had hit the colonel, but he did not know he had fired it.
+
+“Left over from the mortgage, I suppose?--less what you paid out for
+Harry?”
+
+“Yes, left over from the mortgage, less what I paid Gadgem,” he bridled.
+“If you have brought any more of Harry's bills hand them out. Why the
+devil you ask, Talbot, is beyond my ken, but I have no objection to your
+knowing.”
+
+Rutter waved his hand impatiently, with a deprecating gesture; such
+trifles were no longer important.
+
+“You bank with the Patapsco, do you not?” he asked calmly. “Answer me,
+please, and don't think I'm trying to pry into your affairs. The
+matter is much more serious than you seem to think.” The tone was so
+sympathetic that St. George looked closer into his antagonist's face,
+trying to read the cause.
+
+“Always with the Patapsco. I have kept my account there for years,” he
+rejoined simply. “Why do you want to know?”
+
+“Because it has closed its doors--or will in a few hours. It is
+bankrupt!”
+
+There was no malice in his tone, nor any note of triumph. That St.
+George had beggared himself to pay his son's debts had wiped that clear.
+He was simply announcing a fact that caused him the deepest concern.
+
+St. George's face paled, and for a moment a peculiar choking movement
+started in his throat.
+
+“Bankrupt!--the Patapsco! How do you know?” He had heard some ugly
+rumors at the club a few days before, but had dismissed them as part of
+Harding's croakings.
+
+“John Gorsuch received a letter last night from one of the directors;
+there is no doubt of its truth. I have suspected its condition for some
+time, so has Gorsuch. This brought me here. You see now how impossible
+it is for my son to be any longer a burden on you.”
+
+St. George walked slowly across the room and drawing out a chair settled
+himself to collect his thoughts the better;--he had remained standing
+as the better way to terminate the interview should he be compelled
+to exercise that right. The two announcements had come like successive
+blows in the face. If the news of the bank's failure was true he was
+badly, if not hopelessly, crippled--this, however, would wait, as
+nothing he might do could prevent the catastrophe. The other--Harry's
+being a burden to him--must be met at once.
+
+He looked up and caught the colonel's eye scrutinizing his face.
+
+“As to Harry's being a burden,” St. George said slowly, his lip curling
+slightly--“that is my affair. As to his remaining here, all I have to
+say is that if a boy is old enough to be compelled to pay his debts
+he is old enough to decide where he will live. You have yourself
+established that rule and it will be carried out to the letter.”
+
+Rutter's face hardened: “But you haven't got a dollar in the world to
+spare!”
+
+“That may be, but it doesn't altar the situation; it rather strengthens
+it.” He rose from his chair: “I think we are about through now, Talbot,
+and if you will excuse me I'll go down to the bank and see what is the
+matter. I will ring for Todd to bring your hat and coat.” He did not
+intend to continue the talk. There had just been uncovered to him a
+side of Talbot Rutter's nature which had shocked him as much as had the
+threatened loss of his money. To use his poverty as a club to force him
+into a position which would be dishonorable was inconceivable in a man
+as well born as his antagonist, but it was true: he could hardly refrain
+from telling him so. He had missed, it may be said, seeing another
+side--his visitor's sympathy for him in his misfortune. That,
+unfortunately, he did not see: fate often plays such tricks with us all.
+
+The colonel stepped in front of him: his eyes had an ugly look in
+them--the note of sympathy was gone.
+
+“One moment, St. George! How long you are going to keep up this fool
+game, I don't know; but my son stays here on one condition, and on one
+condition only, and you might as well understand it now. From this time
+on I pay his board. Do you for one instant suppose I am going to let you
+support him, and you a beggar?”
+
+St. George made a lunge toward the speaker as if to strike him. Had
+Rutter fired point-blank at him he could not have been more astounded.
+For an instant he stood looking into his face, then whirled suddenly and
+swung wide the door.
+
+“May I ask you, Talbot, to leave the room, or shall I? You certainly
+cannot be in your senses to make me a proposition like that. This thing
+has got to come to an end, and NOW! I wish you good-morning.”
+
+The colonel lifted his hands in a deprecatory way.
+
+“As you will, St. George.”
+
+And without another word the baffled autocrat strode from the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+
+There was no one at home when Harry returned except Todd, who, having
+kept his position outside the dining-room door during the heated
+encounter, had missed nothing of the interview. What had puzzled the
+darky--astounded him really--was that no pistol-shot had followed his
+master's denouncement and defiance of the Lord of Moorlands. What had
+puzzled him still more was hearing these same antagonists ten minutes
+later passing the time o' day, St. George bowing low and the colonel
+touching his hat as he passed out and down to where Matthew and his
+horses were waiting.
+
+It was not surprising, therefore, that Todd's recital to Harry came in a
+more or less disjointed and disconnected form.
+
+“You say, Todd,” he exclaimed in astonishment, “that my father was
+here!” Our young hero was convinced that the visit did not concern
+himself, as he was no longer an object of interest to any one at home
+except his mother and Alec.
+
+“Dat he was, sah, an' b'ilin' mad. Dey bofe was, on'y Marse George lay
+low an' de colonel purty nigh rid ober de top ob de fence. Fust Marse
+George sass him an' den de colonel sass him back. Purty soon Marse
+George say he gwinter speak his min'--and he call de colonel a brute an'
+den de colonel riz up an' say Marse George was a beggar and a puttin'
+on airs when he didn't hab 'nough money to buy hisse'f a 'tater; an' den
+Marse George r'ared and pitched--Oh I tell ye he ken be mighty sof' and
+persimmony when he's tame--and he's mos' allers dat way--but when his
+dander's up, and it suttinly riz to-day, he kin make de fur fly. Dat's
+de time you wanter git outer de way or you'll git hurted.”
+
+“Who did you say was the beggar?” It was all Greek to Harry.
+
+“Why, Marse George was--he was de one what was gwine hongry. De colonel
+'lowed dat de bank was busted an'--”
+
+“What bank?”
+
+“Why de 'Tapsco--whar Marse George keep his money. Ain't you see me
+comin' from dar mos' ebery day?”
+
+“But it hasn't failed, has it?” He was still wondering what the quarrel
+was about.
+
+“Wall, I dunno, but I reckon sumpin's de matter, for no sooner did de
+colonel git on his horse and ride away dan Marse George go git his hat
+and coat hisse'f and make tracks th'ou' de park by de short cut--and you
+know he neber do dat 'cept when he's in a hurry, and den in 'bout a ha'f
+hour he come back ag'in lookin' like he'd seed de yahoo, only he was
+mad plump th'ou'; den he hollered for me quick like, and sont me down
+underneaf yere to Mr. Pawson to know was he in, and he was, and I done
+tol' him, and he's dar now. He ain't neber done sont me down dar 'cept
+once sence I been yere, and dat was de day dat Gadgem man come snuffin'
+roun'. Trouble comin'.”
+
+Harry had now begun to take in the situation. It was evidently a matter
+of some moment or Pawson would not have been consulted.
+
+“I'll go down myself, Todd,” he said with sudden resolve.
+
+“Better lem'me tell him you're yere, Marse Harry.”
+
+“No, I'll go now,” and he turned on his heel and descended the front
+steps.
+
+On the street side of the house, level with the bricks, was a door
+opening into a low-ceiled, shabbily furnished room, where in the old
+days General Dorsey Temple, as has been said, shared his toddies with
+his cronies. There he found St. George seated at a long table piled
+high with law books and papers--the top covered with a green baize cloth
+embroidered with mice holes and decorated with ink stains. Beside him
+was a thin, light-haired, young man, with a long, flexible neck and
+abnormally high forehead, over-doming a shrewd but not unkindly face.
+The two were poring over a collection of papers.
+
+The young lawyer rose to his feet, a sickly, deferential smile playing
+along his straight lips. Young aristocrats of Harry's blood and breeding
+did not often darken Pawson's door, and he was extremely anxious that
+his guest should in some way be made aware of his appreciation of that
+fact. St. George did not move, nor did he take any other notice of
+the boy's appearance than to fasten his eyes upon him for a moment in
+recognition of his presence.
+
+But Harry could not wait.
+
+“Todd has just told me, Uncle George, that”--he caught the grave
+expression on Temple's face--“Why!--Uncle George--there isn't anything
+the matter, is there? It isn't true that the--”
+
+St. George raised his head: “What isn't true, Harry?”
+
+“That the Patapsco Bank is in trouble?”
+
+“No, I don't think so. The bank, so far as I know, is all right; it's
+the depositors who are in trouble,” and one of his quaint smiles lighted
+up his face.
+
+“Broken!--failed!” cried Harry, still in doubt as to the extent of the
+catastrophe, but wishing to be sympathetic and proportionably astounded
+as any well-bred young man should be when his best friend was unhappy.
+
+“I'm afraid it is, Harry--in fact I know it is--bankrupt in character as
+well as in balances--a bad-smelling, nasty mess, to tell you the truth.
+That's not only my own opinion, but the opinion of every man whom I
+have seen, and there was quite an angry mob when I reached the teller's
+window this morning. That is your own opinion also, is it not, Mr.
+Pawson?--your legal summing up, I mean.”
+
+The young attorney stretched out his spare colorless hands; opened wide
+his long, double-jointed fingers; pressed their ten little cushions
+together, and see-sawing the bunch in front of his concave waistcoat,
+answered in his best professional voice:
+
+“As to being bankrupt of funds I should say there was no doubt of that
+being their condition; as to any criminal intent or practices--that, of
+course, gentlemen”--and he shrugged his shoulders in a non-committal,
+non-actionable way--“is not for me to decide.”
+
+“But you think it will be months, and perhaps years, before the
+depositors get a penny of their money--do you not?” persisted St.
+George.
+
+Again Pawson performed the sleight-of-hand trick, and again he
+was non-committal--a second shrug alone expressing his views, the
+performance ending by his pushing a wooden chair in the direction of
+Harry, who was still on his feet.
+
+Harry settled himself on its edge and fixed his eyes on his uncle. St.
+George again became absorbed in the several papers, Pawson once more
+assisting him, the visitor having now been duly provided for.
+
+This raking of ashes in the hope of finding something of value
+unscorched was not a pleasant task for the young lawyer. He had, years
+before, conceived the greatest admiration for his landlord and was never
+tired of telling his associates of how kind and considerate St. George
+had always been, and of his patience in the earlier days of his lease,
+Mr. Temple often refusing the rent until he was quite ready to pay
+it. He took a certain pride, too, in living under the same roof, so
+to speak, with one universally known as a gentleman of the old school,
+whose birth, education, and habits made him the standard among his
+fellows--a man without pretence or sham, living a simple and wholesome
+life; with dogs, guns, priceless Madeira and Port, as well as unlimited
+clothes of various patterns adapted to every conceivable service and
+function--to say nothing of his being part of the best society that
+Kennedy Square could afford.
+
+Even to bow to his distinguished landlord as he was descending his front
+steps was in itself one of his greatest pleasures. That he might not
+miss it, he would peer from behind his office shutters until the shapely
+legs of his patron could be seen between the twisted iron railing. Then
+appearing suddenly and with assumed surprise, he would lift his hat with
+so great a flourish that his long, thin arms and body were jerked into
+semaphore angles, his face meanwhile beaming with ill-concealed delight.
+
+Should any one of St. George's personal friends accompany him--men like
+Kennedy, or General Hardisty, or some well-known man from the Eastern
+Shore--one of the Dennises, or Joyneses, or Irvings--the pleasure was
+intensified, the incident being of great professional advantage. “I have
+just met old General Hardisty,” he would say--“he was at our house,” the
+knowing ones passing a wink around, and the uninitiated having all
+the greater respect and, therefore, all the greater confidence in that
+rising young firm of “Pawson & Pawson, Attorneys and Counsellors at
+Law--Wills drawn and Estates looked after.”
+
+That this rarest of gentlemen, of all men in the world, should be made
+the victim of a group of schemers who had really tricked him of
+almost all that was left of his patrimony, and he a member of his own
+profession, was to Pawson one of the great sorrows of his life. That
+he himself had unwittingly helped in its culmination made it all the
+keener. Only a few weeks had passed since that eventful day when St.
+George had sent Todd down to arrange for an interview, an event
+which was followed almost immediately by that gentleman in person. He
+remembered his delight at the honor conferred upon him; he recalled
+how he had spent the whole of that and the next day in the attempt to
+negotiate the mortgage on the old home at a reasonable rate of interest;
+he recalled, too, how he could have lowered the rate had St. George
+allowed him more time. “No, pay it and get rid of them!” St. George had
+said, the “them” being part of the very accounts over which the two were
+poring. And his patron had showed the same impatience when it came
+to placing the money in the bank. Although his own lips were sealed
+professionally by reason of the interests of another client, he had
+begged St. George, almost to the verge of interference, not to give it
+to the Patapsco, until he had been silenced with: “Have them put it to
+my credit, sir. I have known every member of that bank for years.”
+
+All these things were, of course, unknown to Harry, the ultimate
+beneficiary. Who had filled the bucket, and how and why, were
+unimportant facts to him. That it was full, and ready for his use,
+brought with it the same sense of pleasure he would have felt on a hot
+day at Moorlands when he had gone to the old well, drawn up the ice-cold
+water, and, plunging in the sweet-smelling gourd, had drank to his
+heart's content.
+
+This was what wells were made for; and so were fathers, and big,
+generous men like his Uncle George, who had dozens of friends ready to
+cram money into his pocket for him to hand over to whoever wanted it and
+without a moment's hesitation--just as Slater had handed him the money
+he needed when Gilbert wanted it in a hurry.
+
+Nor could it be expected that Harry, even with the examination of St.
+George's accounts with the Patapsco and other institutions going on
+under his very eyes, understood fully just what a bank failure really
+meant. Half a dozen banks, he remembered, had gone to smash some few
+years before, sending his father to town one morning at daylight, where
+he stayed for a week, but no change, so far as he could recall, had
+happened because of it at Moorlands. Indeed, his father had bought a new
+coach for his mother the very next week, out of what he had “saved from
+the wreck,” so he had told her.
+
+It was not until the hurried overhauling of a mass of papers beneath
+his uncle's hand, and the subsequent finding of a certain stray sheet
+by Pawson, that the boy was aroused to a sense of the gravity of the
+situation. And even then his interest did not become acute until,
+the missing document identified, St. George had turned to Pawson and,
+pointing to an item halfway down the column, had said in a lowered tone,
+as if fearing to be overheard:
+
+“You have the receipts, have you not, for everything on this
+list?--Slater's account too, and Hampson's?”
+
+“They are in the file beside you, sir.”
+
+“Well, that's a comfort, anyhow.”
+
+“And the balance”--here he examined a small book which lay open beside
+him--“amounting to”--he paused--“is of course locked up in their
+vaults?”
+
+Harry had craned his head in instant attention. His quickened ears had
+caught two familiar names. It was Slater who had loaned him the five
+hundred dollars which he gave to Gilbert, which his father had commended
+him for borrowing; and it was Hampson who had sold him the wretched
+horse that had stumbled and broken his leg and had afterwards to be
+shot.
+
+“Slater, did you say, Uncle George--and Hampson? Aren't they my old
+accounts?”
+
+“Quite right, Mr. Rutter--quite right, sir.” St. George tried to stop
+him with a frown, but Pawson's face was turned towards Harry and he
+failed to get the signal. “Quite right, and quite lucky; they were both
+important items in Mr. Gadgem's list, and both checks passed through the
+bank and were paid before the smash came.”
+
+The tones of Pawson's voice, the twisting together of his bony hands in
+a sort of satisfied contentment, and the weary look on his uncle's face
+were the opening of so many windows in the boy's brain. At the same
+instant one of those creepy chills common to a man when some hitherto
+undiscovered vista of impending disaster widens out before him, started
+at the base of Harry's spine, crept up his shoulder-blades, shivered
+along his arms, and lost itself in his benumbed fingers. This was
+followed by a lump in his throat that nearly strangled him. He left his
+chair and touched Pawson on the shoulder.
+
+“Does this mean, Mr. Pawson--this money being locked up in the bank
+vaults and not coming out for months--and may be never--does it mean
+that Mr. Temple--well, that Uncle George--won't have enough money to
+live on?” There was an anxious, vibrant tone in Harry's voice that
+aroused St. George to a sense of the boy's share in the calamity and the
+privations he must suffer because of it. Pawson hesitated and was about
+to belittle the gravity of the situation when St. George stopped him.
+
+“Yes--tell him--tell him everything, I have no secrets from Mr. Rutter.
+Stop!--I'll tell him. It means, Harry”--and a brave smile played about
+his lips--“that we will have to live on hog and hominy, may be, or
+pretty nigh it--certainly for a while--not bad, old fellow, when you get
+accustomed to it. Aunt Jemima makes very good hominy and--”
+
+He stopped; the brave smile had faded from his face.
+
+“By Jove!--that's something I didn't think of!--What will I do with the
+dear old woman--It would break her heart--and Todd?”
+
+Here was indeed something on which he had not counted! For him to forego
+the luxuries that enriched his daily life was easy--he had often in his
+hunting trips lived for weeks on sweet potato and a handful of cornmeal,
+and slept on the bare ground with only a blanket over him, but that his
+servants should be reduced to similar privations suggested possibilities
+which appalled him. For the first time since the cruel announcement fell
+from Rutter's lips the real situation, with all that it meant to his own
+future and those dependent upon him, stared him in the face.
+
+He looked up and caught Harry's anxious eyes scanning his own. His
+old-time, unruffled spirit came to his assistance.
+
+“No, son!” he cried in his cheeriest voice, springing to his feet--“no,
+we won't worry. It will all come out right--we'll buckle down to it
+together, you and I. Don't take it too much to heart--we'll get on
+somehow.”
+
+But the boy was not reassured; in fact, he had become more anxious than
+ever. Not only did the chill continue, but the lump in his throat grew
+larger every minute.
+
+“But, Uncle George--you told me you borrowed the money to pay those
+bills my father sent me. And will you now have to pay that back as
+well?” He did not ask of whom he had borrowed it, nor on what security,
+nor would either Pawson or his uncle have told him, that being a
+confidential matter.
+
+“Well, that depends, Harry; but we won't have to pay it right away,
+which is one comfort. And then again, I can go back to the law. I have
+yet to make my maiden speech before a jury, but I can do it. Think
+of it!--everybody in tears, the judge mopping his eyes--court-room
+breathless. Oh, you just wait until your old uncle gets on his feet
+before a bench and jury. Come along, old fellow--let us go up into the
+house.” Then in a serious tone--his back to Harry--“Pawson, please bring
+the full accounts with you in the morning, and now let me thank you for
+your courtesy. You have been extremely civil, sir, and I appreciate it
+most highly.”
+
+When they had reached the front walk and were about to climb the
+immaculate steps, St. George, still determined to divert the boy's
+thoughts from his own financial straits, said with a laugh:
+
+“Todd told you, of course, about your father paying me a visit this
+morning, did he not?”
+
+“Oh, yes!--a most extraordinary account. You must have enjoyed it,”
+ replied Harry, trying to fall into his uncle's mood, his heart growing
+heavier every moment. “What did he want?”
+
+One of St. George's heat-lightning smiles played over his face: “He
+wanted two things. He first wanted you, and then he wanted a receipt for
+a month's board--YOUR board, remember! He went away without either.”
+
+A new perspective suddenly opened up in Harry's mind; one that had a
+gleam of sunshine athwart it.
+
+“But, Uncle George!” he burst out--“don't forget that my father owes
+you all the money you paid for me! That, of course, will eventually come
+back to you.” This came in a tone of great relief, as if the money was
+already in his hand.
+
+St. George's face hardened: “None of it will come back to me,” he
+rejoined in a positive tone. “He doesn't owe me one single penny and he
+never will. That money he owes to you. Whatever you may happen to owe me
+can wait until you are able to pay it. And now while I am talking about
+it, there is another thing your father owes you, and that is an humble
+apology, and that he will pay one of these days in tears and agony. You
+are neither a beggar nor a cringing dog, and you never will be so long
+as I can help it!” He stopped, rested his hand on the boy's shoulder,
+and with a quiver in his voice added:
+
+“Your hand, my son. Short commons after this, may be, but we will make
+the fight together.”
+
+When the two passed through the front door and stepped into the
+dining-room they found it filled with gentlemen--friends who had heard
+of the crash and who had come either to extend their sympathy or offer
+their bank accounts. They had heard of the catastrophe at the club and
+had instantly left their seats and walked across the park in a body.
+
+To one and all St. George gave a warm pressure of the hand and a bright
+smile. Had he been the master of ceremonies at a state reception he
+could not have been more self-possessed or more gallant; his troubles
+were for himself, never for his guests.
+
+“All in a lifetime--but I am not worrying. The Patapsco pulled out once
+before and it may again. My only regret is that I cannot, at least for
+a time, have as many of you as I would wish under my mahogany. But don't
+let us borrow any trouble; certainly not to-day. Todd, get some glasses
+and bring me that bottle of Madeira--the one there on the sideboard!”
+ Here he took the precious fluid from Todd's hand and holding high the
+crusted bottle said with a dry smile--one his friends knew when his
+irony was aroused: “That wine, gentlemen, saw the light at a time when
+a man locked his money in an iron box to keep outside thieves from
+stealing it; to-day he locks his money in a bank's vault and locks the
+thieves in with it. Extraordinary, is it not, how we gentlemen trust
+each other? Here, Todd, draw the cork!... Slowly.... Now hand me the
+bottle--yes--Clayton, that's the same wine that you and Kennedy liked so
+much the night we had Mr. Poe with us. It is really about all there is
+left of my father's Black Warrior of 1810. I thought it was all gone,
+but Todd found two more the other day, one of which I sent to Kennedy.
+This is the other. Kennedy writes me he is keeping his until we can
+drink it together. Is everybody's glass full? Then my old toast if you
+will permit me: 'Here's to love and laughter, and every true friend of
+my true friend my own!'”
+
+
+Before the groups had dispersed Harry had the facts in his
+possession--principally from Judge Pancoast, who gave him a full account
+of the bank's collapse, some papers having been handed up to him on the
+bench that morning. Summed up, his uncle was practically ruined--and he,
+Harry, was the cause of it--the innocent cause, perhaps, but the cause
+all the same: but for his father's cruelty and his own debts St. George
+would never have mortgaged his home. That an additional sum--his uncle's
+entire deposit--had been swallowed up in the crash was but part of the
+same misfortune. Poe's lines were true, then--never so true as now:
+
+“Some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed
+faster...”
+
+This, then, was ever after to be his place in life--to bring misery
+wherever he went.
+
+He caught up his hat and walked through the park beside the judge,
+hoping for some further details of his uncle's present plight and future
+condition, but the only thing his Honor added to what he already knew
+was his wonderment over the fact that St. George, having no immediate
+use for the money except to pay his bills, should have raised so large a
+sum on a mortgage instead of borrowing it from his friends. It was here
+that Harry's heart gave a bound:--no one, then, but his uncle, Pawson,
+and himself knew that he alone was responsible for the catastrophe!
+That his father should have learned of his share in it did not enter the
+boy's head.
+
+Todd answered his knock on his return, and in reply to his inquiry
+informed him that he must not sit up, as “Marse George” had left word
+that he would be detained until late at a meeting of the creditors of
+the bank.
+
+And so the unhappy lad, his supper over, sought his bed and, as had
+occurred more than once before, spent the earlier hours of the night
+gazing at the ceiling and wondering what would become of him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+
+With the breaking of the dawn Harry's mind was made up. Before the sun
+was an hour high he had dressed hurriedly, stolen downstairs so as to
+wake no one, and closing the front door softly behind him had taken the
+long path through the park in the direction of the wharves. Once there,
+he made the rounds of the shipping offices from Light Street wharf to
+the Falls--and by the time St. George had finished dressing--certainly
+before he was through his coffee--had entered the name of Henry Rutter
+on two sets of books--one for a position as supercargo and the other,
+should nothing better be open, as common seaman. All he insisted upon
+was that the ship should sail at once. As to the destination, that was
+of no consequence, nor did the length of the voyage make any difference.
+He remembered that his intimate friend, Gilbert, had some months before
+gone as supercargo to China, his father wanting him to see something of
+the world; and if a similar position were open he could, of course, give
+references as to his character--a question the agent asked him--but,
+then, Gilbert had a father to help him. Should no such position be
+available, he would ship before the mast, or serve as cook or cabin-boy,
+or even scullion--but he would not live another day or hour dependent on
+his dear Uncle George, who had impoverished himself in his behalf.
+
+He selected the sea instead of going into the army as a common soldier
+because the sea had always appealed to him. He loved its freedom and
+its dangers. Then again, he was young and strong--could climb like a
+cat--sail a boat--swim--Yes!--the sea was the place! He could get far
+enough away behind its horizons to hide the struggle he must make to
+accomplish the one purpose of his life--the earning of his debt.
+
+Filled with this idea he began to perfect his plans, determining to take
+no one into his confidence until the day before the ship was ready to
+sail. He would then send for his mother and Alec--bring them all down
+to St. George's house and announce his intention. That was the best and
+wisest way. As for Kate--who had now been at home some weeks--he
+would pour out his heart to her in a letter. This was better than an
+interview, which she would doubtless refuse:--a letter she would be
+obliged to read and, perhaps, answer. As for his dear Uncle George--it
+would be like tearing his heart out to leave him, but this wrench had to
+be met and it was best to do it quickly and have done with it.
+
+When this last thought took possession a sudden faintness crept over
+him. How could he leave his uncle? What St. George was to him no one
+but himself knew--father, friend, comrade, adviser--standard of men and
+morals--all and more was his beloved uncle. No thought of his heart but
+he had given him, and never once had he been misunderstood. He could put
+his arm about his uncle's neck as he would about his mother's and not
+be thought effeminate or childish. And the courtesy and dignity and
+fairness with which he had been treated; and the respect St. George
+showed him--and he only a boy: compelling his older men friends to do
+the same. Never letting him feel that any foolish act of his young life
+had been criticised, or that any one had ever thought the less of him
+because of them.
+
+Breakfast over, during which no allusion was made either to what St.
+George had accomplished at the conference of creditors the night before,
+or to Harry's early rising--the boy made his way into the park and took
+the path he loved. It was autumn, and the mild morning air bespoke an
+Indian summer day. Passing beneath the lusty magnolias, which flaunted
+here and there their glossy leaves, he paused under one of the big oaks,
+whose branches, stripped of most of their foliage, still sheltered a
+small, vine-covered arbor where he and Kate had often sat--indeed, it
+was within its cool shade that he had first told her of his love. Here
+he settled himself on a small wooden bench outside the retreat and gave
+his thoughts full rein--not to repine, nor to revive his troubles, which
+he meant to put behind him--but to plan out the letter he was to write
+Kate. This must be clear and convincing and tell the whole story of his
+heart. That he might empty it the better he had chosen this place made
+sacred by her presence. Then again, the park was generally deserted at
+this hour--the hour between the passing of the men of business and
+the coming of the children and nurses--and he would not be
+interrupted--certainly not before this arbor--one off by itself and away
+from passers-by.
+
+He seated himself on the bench, his eyes overlooking the park. All the
+hours he had passed with Kate beneath the wide-spreading trees rose in
+his mind; the day they had read aloud to each other, her pretty feet
+tucked under her so that the dreadful ants couldn't touch her dainty
+stockings; the morning when she was late and he had waited and fumed
+stretching minutes into hours in his impatience; that summer night
+when the two had hidden behind the big oak so that he could kiss her
+good-night and none of the others see.
+
+With these memories stirring, his letter was forgotten, and his head
+dropped upon his breast, as if the weight of all he had lost was greater
+than he could bear. Grasping his walking-stick the tighter he began
+tracing figures in the gravel, his thoughts following each line.
+Suddenly his ears caught the sound of a quick step--one he thought
+strangely familiar.
+
+He raised his eyes.
+
+Kate had passed him and had given no sign of her presence!
+
+He sprang from his seat:
+
+“Kate!--KATE!--Are you going to treat me as my father treated me! Don't,
+please!--You'll never see me again--but don't cut me like that: I have
+never done anything but love you!”
+
+The girl came to a halt, but she did not turn her head, nor did she
+answer.
+
+“Please, Kate--won't you speak to me? It may be the last time I shall
+ever see you. I am going away from Kennedy Square. I was going to write
+you a letter; I came out here to think of what I ought to say--”
+
+She raised her head and half turned her trembling body so that she could
+see his face, her eyes reading his.
+
+“I didn't think you wanted me to speak to you or you would have looked
+up.”
+
+“I didn't see you until you had passed. Can't we sit down here?--no one
+will see us.”
+
+She suffered him to take her hand and lead her to the bench. There
+she sat, her eyes still searching his face--a wondering, eager look,
+discovering every moment some old remembered spot--an eyebrow, or the
+line at the corner of the mouth, or the round of the cheek--each and
+every one bringing back to her the days that were past and gone never to
+return.
+
+“You are going away?” she said at last--“why? Aren't you happy with
+Uncle George? He would miss you, I am sure.” She had let the scarf fall
+from her shoulders as she spoke, bringing into view the full round of
+her exquisite throat. He had caught its flash, but he could not trust
+himself to look the closer.
+
+“Not any more than I shall miss him,” he rejoined sadly; “but he has
+lost almost everything he had in the bank failure and I cannot have him
+support me any longer--so I am going to sea.”
+
+Kate started forward and laid her hand on his wrist: “To sea!--in a
+ship! Where?” The inquiry came with such suddenness and with so keen a
+note of pain in her voice that Harry's heart gave a bound. It was not
+St. George's losses then she was thinking of--she was thinking of him!
+He raised his eyes quickly and studied her face the closer; then his
+heart sank again. No!--he was wrong--there was only wonder in her gaze;
+only her usual curiosity to know every detail of what was going on
+around her.
+
+With a sigh he resumed his bent position, talking to the end of his
+walking-stick tracing figures in the gravel: “I shall go to Rio,
+probably,” he continued in the same despondent tone--“or China. That's
+why I called after you. I sail day after to-morrow--Saturday at the
+latest--and it may be a good many years before I get back again, and so
+I didn't want to go, Kate, without telling you that--that--I forgive you
+for everything you have done to me--and whether you forgive me or not,
+I have kept my promises to you, and I will always keep them as long as I
+live.”
+
+“What does dear Uncle George think of it?” She too was addressing the
+end of the stick; gaining time to make up her mind what to do and say.
+The old wound, of course, could not be opened, but she might save him
+and herself from fresh ones.
+
+“He doesn't know I am going; nobody knows but you. I have been a curse
+to every one who has been kind to me, and I am going now where there
+will be nobody but strangers about me. To leave Uncle George breaks my
+heart, but so does it break my heart to leave my precious mother and
+dear old Alec, who cries all the time and has now taken to his bed, I
+hear.”
+
+She waited, but her name was not added to the list, nor did he raise his
+head.
+
+“I deserve it all, I suspect,” he went on, “or it wouldn't be sent
+to me; but it's over now. If I ever come back it will be when I am
+satisfied with myself; if I never come back, why then my former hard
+luck has followed me--that's all. And now may I talk to you, Kate, as
+I used to do sometimes?” He straightened up, threw down his cane, and
+turned his shoulders so he could look her squarely in the eyes. “If I
+say anything that offends you you can get up and walk away and I won't
+follow you, nor will I add another word. You may never see me again, and
+if it is not what I ought to say, you can forget it all when I am gone.
+Kate!”--he paused, and for a moment it was all he could do to control
+himself. “What I want to tell you first is this--that I haven't had a
+happy day or hour since that night on the stairs in my father's house.
+Whether I was right or wrong I don't know; what followed is what I
+couldn't help, but that part I don't regret, and if any one should
+behave to you as Willits did I would do it over again. What I do regret
+is the pain it has caused you. And now here comes this awful sorrow to
+Uncle George, and I am the cause of that too.”
+
+She turned her face quickly, the color leaving her cheeks as if alarmed.
+Had he been behaving badly again? But he swept it away with his next
+sentence.
+
+“You see, my father refused to pay any of the bills I owed and
+Uncle George paid them for me--and I can't have that go on a day
+longer--certainly not now.”
+
+Kate's shoulders relaxed. A sigh of relief spent itself; Harry was still
+an honest gentleman, whatever else he might have done!
+
+“And now comes the worst of it, Kate.” His voice sank almost to
+a whisper, as if even the birds should not hear this part of his
+confession: “Yes--the worst of it--that I have had all this to
+suffer--all this misery to endure--all these insults of my father to
+bear without you! Always, before, we have talked things out together;
+then you were shut away and I could only look up at your windows and
+rack my brain wondering where you were and what you were doing. It's all
+over now--you love somebody else--but I shall never love anybody else: I
+can't! I don't want to! You are the last thing I kiss before I close my
+eyes; I shut them and kiss only the air--but it is your lips I feel; and
+you are the first thing I open them upon when I wake. It will always be
+so, Kate--you are my body, my soul, and my life. I shall never have you
+again, I know, but I shall have your memory, and that is sweeter and
+more precious to me than all else in the world!”
+
+“Harry!” There was a strange cadence in her voice--not of
+self-defence--not of recrimination--only of overwhelming pity: “Don't
+you think that I too have had my troubles? Do you think it was nothing
+to me to love you as I did and have--” She stopped, drew in her breath
+as if to bolster up some inward resolution, and then with a brave lift
+of the head added: “No, I won't go into that--not to-day.”
+
+“Yes--tell me all of it--you can't hurt me more than you have done. But
+you may be right--no, we won't talk of that part of it. And now, Kate,
+I won't ask you to stay any longer; I am glad I saw you--it was better
+than writing.” He leaned forward: “Let me look into your face once
+more, won't you?--so I can remember the better.... Yes--the same dear
+eyes--and the hair growing low on the temples, and the beautiful mouth
+and--No--I sha'n't forget--I never have.” He rose from his seat and held
+out his hand: “You'll take it, won't you?--just once--Good-by!”
+
+She had not moved, nor had she grasped his hand; her face was still
+towards him, her whole frame tense, the tears crowding to the lids.
+
+“Sit down, Harry. I can't let you go like this. Tell me something
+more of where you are going. Why must you go to sea? Can't you support
+yourself here?--isn't there something you can get to do? I will see my
+father and find out if--”
+
+“No, you won't.” There was a note almost of defiance in his voice--one
+she had never heard before. “I am through with accepting favors from any
+living man. Hereafter I stand in my own shoes, independent of everybody.
+My father is the only person who has a right to give me help, and as he
+refuses absolutely to do anything more than pay my board, I must fall
+back on myself. I didn't see these things in this same way when Uncle
+George paid my debts, or even when he took me into his home as his
+guest, but I do now.”
+
+Something gave a little bound in Kate's heart. This manly independence
+was one of the things she had in the old days hoped was in him. What had
+come over her former lover, she wondered.
+
+“And another thing, Kate”--she was listening eagerly--she could not
+believe it was Harry who was speaking--“if you were to tell me this
+moment that you loved me again and would marry me, and I still be as I
+am to-day--outlawed by my father and dependent on charity--I would
+not do it. I can't live on your money, and I have none of my own.
+Furthermore, I owe dear Uncle George his money in such a way that I can
+never pay it back except I earn it, and that I can't do here. To borrow
+it of somebody else to pay him would be more disgraceful still.”
+
+Again her heart gave a bound. Her father had followed the opposite
+course, and she knew for a certainty just what some men thought of him,
+and she could as easily recall half a dozen younger men who had that
+very summer been willing to play the same game with herself. Something
+warm and sympathetic struggled up through her reserve.
+
+“Would you stay, Harry, if I asked you to?” she said in almost a
+whisper. She had not meant to put the question quite in that way, but
+somehow it had asked itself.
+
+He looked at her with his soft brown eyes, the long lashes shading their
+tender brilliancy. He had guessed nothing of the newly awakened throb
+in her heart; only his situation stared him in the face, and in this she
+had no controlling interest; nor could she now that she loved somebody
+else.
+
+“No, Kate, it wouldn't alter anything. It would be putting off the day
+when it would all have to be done over again; and then it would be still
+worse because of the hopes it had raised.”
+
+“Do you really mean, Harry, that you would not stay if I asked you?” It
+was not her heart which was speaking, but the pride of the woman who had
+always had her own way.
+
+“I certainly do,” he answered emphatically, his voice ringing clear.
+“Every day I lose is just so much taken from a decent, independent
+life.”
+
+A sudden revulsion of feeling swept through her. This was the last thing
+she had expected from Harry. What had come over him that he should deny
+her anything?--he who had always obeyed her slightest wish. Then a new
+thought entered her head--why should she humble herself to ask any more
+questions? With a quick movement she gained her feet and stood toying
+with her dress, arranging the lace scarf about her throat, tightening
+the wide strings that held her teacup of a bonnet close to her face. She
+raised her eyes and stole a glance at him. The lips were still firmly
+set with the resolve that had tightened them, but his eyes were brimming
+tears.
+
+As suddenly as her pride had risen did it die out. All the tenderness of
+her nature welled up. She made one step in his direction. She was about
+to speak, but he had not moved, nor did his face relax. She saw that
+nothing could shake his resolve; they were as far apart as if the seas
+already rolled between them. She held out her hand, and with that same
+note of infinite pathos which he knew so well when she spoke straight
+from her heart, said as she laid her fingers in his:
+
+“Good-by, and God bless you, Harry.”
+
+“Good-by, Kate,” he murmured in barely audible tones. “May I--may
+I--kiss you on the forehead, as I always used to do when I left you--”
+
+She bent her head: he leaned over and touched the spot with his lips as
+reverently as a sinner kisses the garment of a saint, then, choking down
+her tears, all her body unstrung, her mind in a whirl, she turned and
+passed out of the park.
+
+
+That same afternoon Kate called her father into her little sitting-room
+at the top of the stairs and shut the door.
+
+“Harry Rutter is going to sea as a common sailor on one of the ships
+leaving here in a couple of days. Can you find out which one?--it may be
+one of your own.” He was still perfunctory agent of the line.
+
+“Young Rutter going to sea!”--the nomenclature of “my dear Harry” had
+ended since the colonel had disinherited him. “Well--that is news! I
+suspect that will be the best place for him; then if he plays any of his
+pranks there will be somebody around with a cat-o'-nine-tails to take it
+out of him. Going to sea, is he?”
+
+Kate looked at him with lowered lids, her lips curling slightly, but
+she did not defend the culprit. It was only one of what Prim called his
+“jokes:” he was the last man in the world to wish any such punishment.
+Moreover, she knew her father much better than the Honorable Prim knew
+his daughter, and whenever she had a favor to ask was invariably careful
+not to let his little tea-kettle boil over.
+
+“Only a short time ago, father, you got a berth as supercargo on one of
+my grandfather's ships for Mark Gilbert. Can't you do it for Harry?”
+
+“But, Kate, that was quite a different thing. Mark's father came to me
+and asked it as a special favor.” His assumed authority at the shipping
+office rarely extended to the appointing of officers--not when the
+younger partners objected.
+
+“Well, Harry's father won't come to you, nor will Harry; and it isn't
+a different thing. It's exactly the same thing so far as you are
+concerned, and there is a greater reason for Harry, for he is alone in
+the world and he is not used to hard work of any kind, and it is cruel
+to make a common sailor of him.”
+
+“Why, I thought Temple was fathering him.”
+
+“So Uncle George has, and would always look after him, but Harry is too
+brave and manly to live upon him any longer, now that Uncle George has
+lost most of his money. Will you see Mr. Pendergast, or shall I go down
+to the office?”
+
+Prim mused for a moment. “There may not be a vacancy,” he ventured, “but
+I will inquire. The Ranger sails on Friday for the River Plate, and
+I will have Mr. Pendergast come and see me. Supercargoes are of very
+little use, my dear, unless they have had some business training, and
+this young man, of course, has had none at all.”
+
+“This young man, indeed!” thought Kate with a sigh, stifling her
+indignation. “Poor Harry!--no one need treat him any longer with even
+common courtesy, now that St. George, his last hold, had been swept
+away.”
+
+“I think on the whole I had better attend to it myself,” she added with
+some impatience. “I don't want anything to go wrong about it.”
+
+“No, I'll see him, Kate; just leave it all to me.”
+
+He had already decided what to do--or what he would try to do--when he
+first heard the boy wanted to leave the country. What troubled him was
+what the managing partner of the line might think of the proposition.
+As long as Harry remained at home and within reach any number of
+things might happen--even a return of the old love. With the scapegrace
+half-way around the world some other man might have a chance--Willits,
+especially, who had proved himself in every way worthy of his daughter,
+and who would soon be one of the leading lawyers of the State if he kept
+on.
+
+With the closing of the door upon her father, Kate threw herself upon
+her lounge. One by one the salient features of her interview with Harry
+passed in review: his pleading for some word of comfort; some note of
+forgiveness with which to cheer the hours of his exile.--“You are the
+last thing I kiss before I close my eyes.” Then his open defiance of her
+expressed wishes when they conflicted with his own set purpose of going
+away and staying away until he made up his mind to return. While the
+first brought with it a certain contented satisfaction--something she
+had expected and was glad of--the last aroused only indignation and
+revolt. Her brow tightened, and the determination of the old seadog--her
+grandfather Barkeley--played over her countenance. She no longer, then,
+filled Harry's life, controlling all his actions; she no longer inspired
+his hopes. Rather than marry her he would work as a common sailor.
+Yes--he had said so, and with his head up and his voice ringing brave
+and clear. She was proud of him for it--she had never been so proud of
+him--but why no trace of herself in his resolve; except in his allusion
+to the duel, when he said he would do it again should any one insult
+her? It was courteous, of course, for him to feel that way, however much
+she abhorred the system of settling such disputes. But, then, he would
+do that for any other woman--would, no doubt, for some woman he had not
+yet seen. In this he was the son of his father and the same Harry--but
+in everything else he was a changed man--and never more changed than in
+his attitude toward her.
+
+With these thoughts racking her brain she rose from the lounge and began
+pacing the floor, peering out between the curtains of her room, her
+eyes wandering over the park as if she could still see him between
+the branches. Then her mind cleared and the true situation developed
+itself:--for months she had hugged to herself the comforting thought
+that she had only to stretch out her hand and bring him to her feet. He
+had now looked her full in the face and proclaimed his freedom. It was
+as if she had caged a bird and found the door open and the prisoner
+singing in a tree overhead.
+
+
+That same night she sat by her wood fire in her chamber, her old black
+mammy--Mammy Henny--bending close, combing out her marvellous hair. She
+had been studying the coals, watching the little castles pile and fall;
+the quick smothering of slowly fading sparks under a blanket of gray
+ashes, and the wavering, flickering light that died on the curling
+smoke. She had not spoken for a long time, when the old woman roused
+her.
+
+“Whar was you dis mawnin', honey chile? Mister Willits done wait mo'n
+ha'f a hour, den he say he come back an' fetch his sorrel horse wid him
+dis arternoon an' take ye ridin'. But he ain't come--dat is, Ben done
+tol' me so.”
+
+“No, mammy,” she answered wearily--“I sent him word not to--I didn't
+feel like riding to-day.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+
+Over two years have passed away since that mournful night when Harry
+with his hand in St. George's, his voice choking, had declared his
+determination to leave him the next day and seek his fortunes across the
+seas.
+
+It was a cruel blow to Temple, coming as it did on the heels of his own
+disaster, but when the first shock had passed he could but admire the
+lad for his pluck and love him the better for his independence.
+
+“All right, my son,” he had said, concealing as best he could his
+intense suffering over the loss of his companion. “I'll try and get
+along. But remember I am here--and the door is always open. I don't
+blame you--I would do the same thing were I in your place. And now about
+Kate--what shall I say to her?”
+
+“Nothing. I said it all this morning. She doesn't love me any more--she
+would have passed me by without speaking had I not called to her. She'll
+be married to Willits before I come back--if I ever do come back. But
+leaving Kate is easier than leaving you. You have stuck to me all the
+way through, and Kate--well--perhaps she hasn't understood--perhaps her
+father has been talking to her--I don't know. Anyhow, it's all over. If
+I had had any doubts about it before, this morning's talk settled it.
+The sea is the best place for me. I can support myself anyway for a
+while until I can help you.”
+
+Yes! the boy was right, St. George had said to himself. It was all over
+between them. Kate's reason had triumphed at last. She, perhaps, was not
+to blame. Her experiences had been trying and she was still confronted
+by influences bitterly opposed to Harry, and largely in favor of
+Willits, for, weak specimen as Prim was, he was still her father, and in
+so important a step as her marriage, must naturally exercise authority.
+As for his own influence, that, he realized, had come to an end at
+their last interview: the whole thing, he must admit, was
+disappointing--cruelly so--the keenest disappointment of his life.
+
+Many a night since he bid Harry good-by had he sat alone by that same
+fire, his dogs his only companions, the boy's words ringing in his ears:
+“Leaving Kate is easier than leaving you!” Had it been the other way and
+he the exile, it would have been nearer the truth, he often thought, for
+nothing in his whole life had left so great a void in his heart as the
+loss of the boy he loved. Not that he was ever completely disheartened;
+that was not his nature; there was always daylight ahead--the day when
+Harry would come back and their old life begin again. With this in store
+for him he had led his life as best he could, visiting his friends
+in the country, entertaining in a simple, inexpensive way, hunting at
+Wesley, where he and Peggy Coston would exchange confidences and funny
+stories; dining out; fishing in the early spring; getting poorer and
+poorer in pocket, and yet never complaining, his philosophy being that
+it would be brighter in the morning, and it always was--to him.
+
+And yet if the truth be told his own situation had not improved--in
+fact, it had grown steadily worse. Only one payment of interest had been
+made on the mortgage and the owner was already threatening foreclosure
+proceedings. Pawson's intervention alone had staved off the fatal climax
+by promising the holder to keep the loan alive by the collection of some
+old debts--borrowed money and the like--due St. George for years and
+which his good nature had allowed to run on indefinitely until some of
+them were practically outlawed. Indeed it was only through resources
+like this, in all of which Pawson helped, and with the collecting of
+some small ground rents, that kept Todd and Jemima in their places and
+the larder comfortably filled. As to the bank--there was still hope that
+some small percentage would be paid the depositors, it being the
+general opinion that the directors were personally liable because of
+the irregularities which the smash had uncovered--but this would take
+months, if not years, to work out.
+
+His greatest comfort was in the wanderer's letters. These he would watch
+for with the eagerness of a girl hungry for news of her distant lover.
+For the first few months these came by every possible mail, most of them
+directed to himself; others to his mother, Mrs. Rutter driving in from
+Moorlands to compare notes with St. George. Then, as the boy made his
+way further into the interior the intervals were greater--sometimes a
+month passed without news of him.
+
+“We are short-handed,” he wrote St. George, “owing to fever on the
+voyage out on the Ranger, and though I am supercargo and sit at the
+captain's table, I have to turn to and work like any of the others--fine
+exercise, but my hands are cracked and blistered and full of tar. I'll
+have to wear gloves the next time I dine with you.”
+
+Not a word of this to his mother--no such hardships for her tender ears:
+
+“Tell me about Kate, mother”--this from Rio--“how she looks; what she
+says; does she ever mention my name? My love to Alec. Is Matthew still
+caring for Spitfire, or has my father sold her?” Then followed the line:
+“Give my father my respectful regards; I would send my love, but he no
+longer cares for it.”
+
+The dear lady did not deliver the message. Indeed Harry's departure
+had so widened the breach between the colonel and herself that they
+practically occupied different parts of the house as far removed from
+each other as possible. She had denounced him first to his face for the
+boy's self-imposed exile, and again behind his back to her intimates.
+Nor did her resolve waver even when the colonel was thrown from his
+horse and so badly hurt that his eyesight was greatly impaired. “It is
+a judgment on you,” she had said, drawing her frail body up to its full
+height. “You will now learn what other people suffer,” and would have
+kept on upstairs to her own room had not her heart softened at his
+helplessness--a new role for the colonel.
+
+He had made no answer at the time: he never answered her back. She was
+too frail to be angry with, and then she was right about his being the
+cause of her suffering--the first cause of it, at least. He had not
+yet arrived at the point where he censured himself for all that had
+happened. In fact since Harry's sudden exit, made without a word to
+anybody at Moorlands except his mother and Alec, who went to town on
+a hurry message,--a slight which cut him to the quick--he had steadily
+laid the blame on everybody else connected with the affair;--generally
+on St. George for his interference in his peace-making programme at the
+club and his refusal, when ruined financially, to send the boy back to
+him in an humble and contrite spirit. Neither had he recovered from the
+wrath he had felt when, having sent John Gorsuch to ascertain from
+St. George the amount of money he had paid out for his son, Temple had
+politely sent Gorsuch, in charge of Todd, downstairs to Pawson, who
+in turn, after listening to Todd's whispered message, had with equal
+politeness shown Gorsuch the door, the colonel's signed check--the
+amount unfilled--still in Gorsuch's pocket.
+
+It was only when the Lord of Moorlands went into town to spend an
+hour or so with Kate--and he was a frequent visitor prior to his
+accident--that his old manner returned. He loved the girl dearly and was
+never tired of talking to her. She was the only woman who would listen
+when he poured out his heart.
+
+And Kate always welcomed him gladly. She liked strong, decided men
+even if they sometimes erred in their conclusions. Her grandfather,
+old Captain Barkeley, had had the same masterfulness. He had been in
+absolute command in his earlier years, and he had kept in command all
+his life. His word was law, and he was generally right. She was twelve
+years old when he died, and had, therefore, ample opportunity to know.
+It was her grandfather's strong personality, in fact, which had given
+her so clear an idea of her father's many weaknesses. Rutter, she felt,
+was a combination of both Barkeley and Prim--forceful and yet warped
+by prejudices; dominating yet intolerant; able to do big things and
+contented with little ones. It was forcefulness, despite his many
+shortcomings, which most appealed to her.
+
+Moreover, she saw much of Harry in him. It was that which made her so
+willing to listen--she continually comparing the father to the son.
+These comparisons were invariably made in a circle, beginning at
+Rutter's brown eyes, taking in his features and peculiarities--many of
+them reproduced in his son's--such as the firm set of the lips and the
+square line of the chin--and ending, quite naturally, with the brown
+orbs again. While Harry's matched the color and shape, and often the
+fierce glare of the father's, they could also, she said to herself,
+shine with the soft light of the mother's. It was from the mother's
+side, then, that there came the willingness to yield to whatever tempted
+him--it may be to drink--to a false sense of honor--to herself: Harry
+being her slave instead of her master. And the other men around her--so
+far as yielding was concerned (here her brow would tighten and her lips
+straighten)--were no better. Even Uncle George must take her own “No”
+ for an answer and believe it when she meant quite a different thing. And
+once more would her soul break out in revolt over the web in which she
+had become entangled, and once more would she cry herself to sleep.
+
+Nobody but her old black mammy knew how tragic had been her sufferings,
+how many bitter hours she had passed, nor how many bitter tears she had
+shed. Yet even old Henny could not comfort her, nor was there any one
+else to whom the girl could pour out her heart. She had, it is true,
+kept up her intimacy with her Uncle George--hardly a week passed that
+she was not a visitor at his house or he at hers--but they had long
+since refrained from discussing Harry. Not because he did not want to
+talk about him, but because she would not let him--Of course not!
+
+To Richard Horn, however, strange to say, she often turned--not so much
+for confidences as for a broader understanding of life. The thoughtful
+inventor was not so hedged about by social restrictions, and would break
+out in spontaneous admiration of Harry, saying with a decisive nod of
+his head, “A fine, splendid young fellow, my dear Kate; I recognized
+it first at St. George's dinner to Mr. Poe, and if I may say so, a
+much-abused young man whose only sin is that he, like many another about
+us, has been born under a waning star in a sky full of murky clouds; one
+that the fresh breeze of a new civilization will some day clear away”--a
+deduction which Kate could not quite grasp, but which comforted her
+greatly.
+
+It delighted her, too, to hear him talk of the notable occurrences
+taking place about them. “You are wonderfully intelligent, my dear,”
+ he had said to her on one occasion, “and should miss nothing of the
+developments that are going on about us;” and in proof of it had the
+very next day taken her to an exhibition of Mr. Morse's new telegraph,
+given at the Institute, at which two operators, each with an instrument,
+the men in sight of each other, but too far apart to be in collusion,
+were sending and answering the messages through wires stretched around
+the hall. She, at Richard's suggestion, had written a message herself,
+which she handed to the nearest operator who had ticked it to his
+fellow, and who at once read it to the audience. Even then many doubting
+Thomases had cried out “Collusion,” until Richard, rising in his seat,
+had not only endorsed the truth of the reading, but explained the
+invention, his statement silencing all opposition because of his
+well-known standing and knowledge of kindred sciences.
+
+Richard's readings also, from which Kate was never absent, and which had
+now been resumed at his own house, greatly interested her. These of late
+had been devoted to many of Poe's earlier poems and later tales, for
+despite the scene at St. George's the inventor had never ceased to
+believe in the poet.
+
+And so with these occupations, studies, investigations, and social
+pleasures--she never missing a ball or party (Willits always managing to
+be with her)--and the spending of the summer months at the Red Sulphur,
+where she had been pursued by half a dozen admirers--one a titled
+Englishman--had the days and hours of the years of Harry's absence
+passed slowly away.
+
+At the end of the second winter a slight change occurred in the monotony
+of her life. Her constant, unwavering devotee, Langdon Willits, fell
+ill and had to be taken to the Eastern Shore, where the same old lot of
+bandages--that is of the same pattern--and the same loyal sister were
+impressed into service to nurse him back to health. The furrow Harry's
+bullet had ploughed in his head still troubled him at times, especially
+in the hot weather, and a horseback ride beside Kate one August day,
+with the heat in the nineties, had started the subsoil of his cranium
+to aching with such vehemence that Teackle had promptly packed it in ice
+and ten days later its owner in blankets and had put them both aboard
+the bay boat bound for the Eastern Shore.
+
+Whether this new irritant--and everything seemed to annoy her now--had
+begun to tell on our beautiful Kate, or whether the gayety of the winter
+both at home and in Washington, where she had spent some weeks during
+the season, had tired her out, certain it was that when the spring came
+the life had gone out of her step and the color from her cheeks. Mammy
+Henny had noticed it and had coddled her the more, crooning and petting
+her; and her father had noticed it and had begun to be anxious, and at
+last St. George had stalked in and cried out in that breezy, joyous way
+of his that nothing daunted:
+
+“Here, you sweetheart!--what have you been doing to your cheeks--all the
+roses out of them and pale as two lilies--and you never out of bed until
+twelve o'clock in the day and looking then as if you hadn't had a wink
+of sleep all night. Not a word out of you, Seymour, until I've finished.
+I'm going to take Kate down to Tom Coston's and keep her there till she
+gets well. Too many stuffy balls--too many late suppers--oyster roasts
+and high doings. None of that at Tom's. Up at six and to bed at ten.
+I've just had a letter from him and dear Peggy is crazy to have us come.
+Take your mare along, Kate, and you won't lack fresh air. Now what do
+you say, Seymour?”
+
+Of course the Honorable Prim bobbed his honorable head and said he had
+been worried himself over Kate's loss of appetite, and that if Temple
+would, etc., etc.--he would--etc., etc.--and so Mammy Henny began to get
+pink and white and other fluffy things together, and Ben, with Todd to
+help, led Joan, her own beloved saddle horse, down to the dock and saw
+that she was safely lodged between decks, and then up came a coach (all
+this was two days later) and my lady drove off with two hair trunks in
+front and a French bonnet box behind--St. George beside her, and fat
+Mammy Henny in white kerchief and red bandanna, opposite, and Todd in
+one of St. George's old shooting-jackets on the box next the driver,
+with his feet on two of the dogs, the others having been loaned to a
+friend.
+
+And it was a great leave-taking when the party reached the wharf. Not
+only were three or four of her girl friends present, but a dozen or more
+of the old merchants forsook their desks, when the coach unlimbered,
+most of them crossing the cobbles--some bare-headed, and all of them in
+high stocks and swallow-tail coats--pens behind their ears, spectacles
+on their pates--to bid the young princess good-by.
+
+For Kate was still “our Kate,” in the widest and broadest sense and the
+pride and joy of all who knew her, and many who didn't. That she had a
+dozen beaux--and that some of them had tried to bore holes in each other
+for love of her; and that one of them was now a wanderer and another in
+a state of collapse, if report were true--was quite as it should be. Men
+had died for women a hundred times less worthy and a thousand times less
+beautiful, and men would die of love again. When at last she made up her
+mind she would choose the right man, and in the meantime God bless her
+for just being alive.
+
+And she was never more alive or more charming than to-day.
+
+“Oh, how delightful of you, Mr. Murdoch, and you too, Mr. Bowdoin--and
+Max--and all of you, to cross those wretched stones. No, wait, I'll come
+to you--” she had called out, when with a stamp of her little feet she
+had shaken the pleats from her skirt--adding when they had all kissed
+her hand in turn--“Yes--I am going down to be dairy-maid at Peggy
+Coston's,” at which the bald-headed old fellows, with their hands
+upraised in protest at so great a sacrilege, bowed to the ground, their
+fingers on their ruffled shirt-fronts, and the younger ones lifted their
+furry hats and kept them in the air until she had crossed the gang-plank
+and Todd and Mammy Henny, and Ben who had come to help, lost their
+several breaths getting the impatient dogs and baggage aboard--and so
+she sailed away with Uncle George as chaperon, the whole party throwing
+kisses back and forth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+
+Their reception at Wesley, the ancestral home of the Costons, although
+it was late at night when they arrived, was none the less joyous. Peggy
+was the first to welcome the invalid, and Tom was not far behind.
+
+“Give her to me, St. George,” bubbled Peggy, enfolding the girl in her
+arms. “You blessed thing! Oh, how glad I am to get hold of you! They
+told me you were ill, child--not a word of truth in it! No, Mr. Coston,
+you sha'n't even have one of her little fingers until I get through
+loving her. What's your mammy's name--Henny? Well, Henny, you take Miss
+Kate's things into her room--that one at the top of the stairs.”
+
+And then the Honorable Tom Coston said he'd be doggoned if he was going
+to wait another minute, and he didn't--for Kate kissed him on both
+cheeks and gave him her father's message, congratulating him on his
+appointment as judge, and thanking him in advance for all the kindness
+he would show his daughter.
+
+But it was not until she awoke next morning and looked out between
+the posts of her high bedstead through the small, wide-open window
+overlooking the bay that her heart gave the first bound of real
+gladness. She loved the sky and the dash of salt air, laden now with the
+perfume of budding fruit trees, that blew straight in from the sea.
+She loved, too, the stir and sough of the creaking pines and the cheery
+calls from the barnyard. Here she could get her mind settled; here,
+too, she could forget all the little things that had bothered her--there
+would be no more invitations to accept or decline; no promises she must
+keep. She and her Uncle George could have one long holiday--she needed
+it and, goodness knows, he needed it after all his troubles--and they
+would begin as soon as breakfast was over. And they did--the dogs
+plunging ahead, the two hand in hand, St. George, guide and philosopher,
+pointing out this and that characteristic feature of the once famous
+estate and dilating on its past glory.
+
+“Even in my father's day,” he continued, his face lighting up, “it was
+one of the great show places of the county. The stables held twenty
+horses and a coach, besides no end of gigs and carryalls. This
+broad road on which we walk was lined with flower-beds and shaded by
+live-oaks. Over there, near that little grove, were three great barns
+and lesser out-buildings, besides the negro quarters, smoke-houses, and
+hay-ricks. Really a wonderful place in its day, Kate.”
+
+Then he went on to tell of how the verandas were shaded with
+honeysuckles, and the halls, drawing-rooms, and dining-room crowded
+with furniture; how there were yellow damask curtains, and screens, and
+hair-cloth sofas and a harmonicon of musical glasses which was played
+by wetting one's fingers in a bowl of water and passing them over the
+rims--he had played on it himself when a boy; and slaves galore--nearly
+one hundred of them, not to mention a thousand acres of tillable land
+to plough and harrow, as well as sheep, oxen, pigs, chickens,
+ducks--everything that a man of wealth and position might have had in
+the old days, and about every one of which St. George had a memory.
+
+Then when Tom's father, who was the sole heir, took charge (here his
+voice dropped to a whisper) dissolution proceedings set in--and Tom
+finished them! and St. George sighed heavily as he pointed out the
+changes:--the quarters in ruins, the stables falling to pieces, the
+gates tied up with strings or swinging loose; and the flocks, herds,
+and live-stock things of the past. Nor had a negro been left--none Tom
+really owned: one by one they had been sold or hired out, or gone
+off nobody knew where, he being too lazy, or too indifferent, or too
+good-natured, to hunt them up. The house, as Kate had seen, was equally
+neglected. Even what remained of the old furniture was on its last
+legs--the curtains patched, or in shreds--the carpets worn into holes.
+
+Kate listened eagerly, but she did not sigh. It was all charming to her
+in the soft spring sunshine, the air a perfume, the birds singing, the
+blossoms bursting, the peach-trees anthems of praise--and best of all
+her dear Uncle George strolling at her side. And then everything was so
+clean and fresh and sweet in every nook and corner of the tumble-down
+house. Peggy, as she soon discovered, looked after that--in fact Peggy
+looked after everything that required looking after--and everything
+did--including the judge. Mr. Coston was tired, Peggy would say, or Mr.
+Coston had not been very well, so she just did it herself instead of
+bothering him. Since his promotion it was generally “the judge” who was
+too tired, being absorbed in his court duties, etc., etc. But it always
+came with a laugh, and it was always genuine, for to wait upon him and
+look after him and minister to him was her highest happiness.
+
+Good for nothing as he would have been to some women--unpractical,
+lazy--a man few sensible wives would have put up with--Peggy adored
+him; and so did his children adore him, and so, for that matter, did his
+neighbors, many of whom, although they ridiculed him behind his back,
+could never escape the charm of his personality whenever they sat beside
+his rocking-chair.
+
+This chair--the only comfortable chair in the house, by the way--had, in
+his less distinguished days, been his throne. In it he would sit all day
+long, cutting and whittling, filing and polishing curious trinkets of
+tortoise-shell for watch-guards and tiny baskets made of cherry-stones,
+cunningly wrought and finished. He was an expert, too, in corn-cob
+pipes, which he carved for all his friends; and pin-wheels for
+everybody's children. When it came, however, to such matters as a
+missing hinge to the front door, a brick under a tottering chimney, the
+straightening of a falling fence, the repairing of a loose lock on the
+smoke-house--or even the care of the family carryall, which despite its
+great age and infirmities was often left out in the rain to rust and
+ruin--these things must, of course, wait until the overworked father of
+the house found time to look after them.
+
+The children loved him the most. They asked for nothing better than to
+fix him in his big chair by the fender, throw upon the fire a basket of
+bark chips from the wood-yard, and enough pitch-pine knots to wake them
+up, and after filling his pipe and lighting it, snuggle close--every
+bend and curve of the wide-armed splint-bottomed comfort packed full,
+all waiting to hear him tell one of his stories. Sometimes it was
+the tale of the fish and the cuff-button--how he once dropped his
+sleeve-link overboard, and how a year afterward he was in a shallop on
+the Broadwater fishing for rockflsh when he caught a splendid fellow,
+which when Aunt Patience cleaned--(here his voice would drop to a
+whisper)--“What do you think!--why out popped the sleeve-link that was
+in his cuff this minute!” And for the hundredth time the bit of
+gold would be examined by each child in turn. Or it was the witch
+story--about the Yahoo wild man with great horns and a lashing tail, who
+lived in the swamp and went howling and prowling about for plunder and
+prey. (This was always given with a low, prolonged growl, like a dog in
+pain--all the children shuddering.) And then followed the oft-told tale
+of how this same terrible Yahoo once came up with Hagar, who was riding
+a witch pony to get to the witches' dance in the cane-brake, and how
+he made off with her to the swamp, where she had had to cook for
+him--ever--ever--ever since. (Long-drawn breath, showing that all was
+over for that day at least.)
+
+Todd got the true inwardness of the situation before he had been many
+days at Wesley: for the scene with the children was often repeated when
+court was not in session.
+
+“Fo' Gawd, Marse George, hab you had time to watch dat gemman, de jedge?
+Dey do say he's sumpin' great, but I tell ye he's dat lazy a fly stuck
+in 'lasses 'd pass him on de road.”
+
+St. George laughed heartily in reply, but he did not reprimand him.
+
+“What makes you think so, Todd?”
+
+“Can't help thinkin' so. I wuz standin' by de po'ch yisterday holdin'
+Miss Kate's mare, when I yere de mistis ask de jedge ter go out an' git
+'er some kindlin' f'om de wood-pile. He sot a-rockin' hisse'f in dat big
+cheer ob his'n an' I yered him say--'Yes, in a minute,' but he didn't
+move. Den she holler ag'in at him an' still he rock hisse'f, sayin' he's
+comin'. Den, fust thing I knowed out she come to de woodpile an' git it
+herse'f, an' den when she pass him wid 'er arms full o' wood he look
+up an' say--'Peggy, come yere an' kiss me--I dunno what we'd do widout
+ye--you'se de Lawd's anointed, sho'.'”
+
+Kate got no end of amusement out of him, and would often walk with him
+to court that she might listen to his drolleries--especially his queer
+views of life--the simplest and most unaffected to which she had ever
+bent her ears. Now and then, as time went on, despite her good-natured
+toleration of his want of independence--he being always dominated by
+his wife--she chanced, to her great surprise, upon some nuggets of hard
+common-sense of so high an assay that they might really be graded as
+wisdom--his analysis of men and women being particularly surprising.
+Those little twinkling, and sometimes sleepy, eyes of his, now that she
+began to study him the closer, reminded her of the unreadable eyes of
+an elephant she had once seen--eyes that presaged nothing but inertia,
+until whack went the trunk and over toppled the boy who had teased him.
+
+And with this new discovery there developed at last a certain respect
+for the lazy, good-natured, droll old man. Opinions which she had
+heretofore laughed at suddenly became of value; criticisms which she had
+passed over in silence seemed worthy of further consideration.
+
+Peggy, however, fitted into all the tender places of her heart. She had
+never known her own mother; all she remembered was a face bending close
+and a soft hand that tucked in the coverlet one night when she couldn't
+sleep. The memory had haunted her from the days of her childhood--clear
+and distinct, with every detail in place. Had there been light enough in
+her mother's bed-room, she was sure she could have added the dear face
+itself to her recollection. Plump, full-bosomed, rosy-cheeked Peggy
+(fifteen years younger than Tom) supplied the touch and voice, and all
+the tenderness as well, that these sad memories recalled, and all that
+the motherless girl had yearned for.
+
+And the simple, uneventful life--one without restraints of any kind,
+greatly satisfied her: so different from her own at home with Prim as
+Chief Regulator. Everybody, to her delight, did as they pleased, each
+one following the bent of his or her inclination. St. George was out at
+daybreak in the duck-blinds, or, breakfast over, roaming the fields with
+his dogs, Todd a close attendant. The judge would stroll over to court
+an hour or more late, only to find an equally careless and contented
+group blocking up the door--“po' white trash” most of them, each one
+with a grievance. Whenever St. George accompanied him, and he often did,
+his Honor would spend even less time on the bench--cutting short both
+ends of the session, Temple laughing himself sore over the judge's
+decisions.
+
+“And he stole yo' shoat and never paid for him?” he heard his honor say
+one day in a hog case, where two farmers who had been waiting hours for
+Tom's coming were plaintiff and defendant. “How did you know it was yo'
+shoat--did you mark him?”
+
+“No, suh.”
+
+“Tie a tag around his neck?”
+
+“No, suh.”
+
+“Well, you just keep yo' hogs inside yo' lot. Too many loose hogs
+runnin' 'round. Case is dismissed and co't is adjourned for the day,”
+ which, while very poor law, was good common-sense, stray hogs on the
+public highway having become a nuisance.
+
+With these kindly examples before her, Kate soon fell into the ways of
+the house. If she did not wish to get up she lay abed and Peggy brought
+her breakfast with her own hands. If, when she did leave her bed, she
+went about in pussy-slippers and a loose gown of lace and frills
+without her stays, Peggy's only protest was against her wearing anything
+else--so adorable was she. When this happy, dreamy indolence began to
+pall upon her--and she could not stand it for long--she would be up at
+sunrise helping Peggy wash and dress her frolicsome children or get
+them off to school, and this done, would assist in the housework--even
+rolling the pastry with her own delicate palms, or sitting beside the
+bubbling, spontaneous woman, needle in hand, aiding with the family
+mending--while Peggy, glad of the companionship, would sit with ears
+open, her mind alert, probing--probing--trying to read the heart of the
+girl whom she loved the better every day. And so there had crept
+into Kate's heart a new peace that was as fresh sap to a dying plant,
+bringing the blossoms to her cheeks and the spring of wind-blown
+branches to her step.
+
+Then one fine morning, to the astonishment of every one, and greatly to
+Todd's disgust, no less a person than Mr. Langdon Willits of “Oak Hill”
+ (distant three miles away) dismounted at Coston's front porch, and
+throwing the reins to the waiting darky, stretched his convalescent, but
+still shaky, legs in the direction of the living-room, there to await
+the arrival of “Miss Seymour of Kennedy Square,” who, so he informed
+Todd, “expected him.”
+
+Todd scraped a foot respectfully in answer, touched his cocoanut of a
+head with his monkey claw of a finger, waited until the broad back of
+the red-headed gentleman had been swallowed up by the open door, and
+then indulged in this soliloquy:
+
+“Funny de way dem bullets hab o' missin' folks. Des a leetle furder
+down an' dere wouldn't 'a' been none o' dis yere foolishness. Pity Marse
+Harry hadn't practised some mo'. Ef he had ter do it ag'in I reckon he'd
+pink him so he neber be cavortin' 'roun' like he is now.”
+
+Willits's sudden appearance filled St. George with ill-concealed
+anxiety. He did not believe in this parade of invalidism, nor did
+he like Kate's encouraging smile when she met him--and there was no
+question that she did smile--and, more portentous still, that she
+enjoyed it. Other things, too, she grew to enjoy, especially the long
+rides in the woods and over to the broad water. For Willits's health
+after a few days of the sunshine of Kate's companionship had undergone
+so renovating a process that the sorrel horse now arrived at the porch
+almost every day, whereupon Kate's Joan would be led out, and the
+smiled-upon gentleman in English riding-boots and brown velvet jacket
+and our gracious lady in Lincoln green habit with wide hat and sweeping
+plume would mount their steeds and be lost among the pines.
+
+Indeed, to be exact, half of Kate's time was now spent in the saddle,
+Willits riding beside her. And with each day's outing a new and, to St.
+George, a more disturbing intimacy appeared to be growing between them.
+Now it was Willits's sister who had to be considered and especially
+invited to Wesley--a thin wisp of a woman with tortoise-shell sidecombs
+and bunches of dry curls, who always dressed in shiny black silk and
+whose only ornament was her mother's hair set in a breastpin; or it was
+his father by whom she must sit when he came over in his gig--a bluff,
+hearty man who generally wore a red waistcoat with big bone buttons and
+high boots with tassels in front.
+
+This last confidential relation, when the manners and bearing of
+the elder man came under his notice, seemed to St. George the most
+unaccountable of all. Departures from the established code always jarred
+upon him, and the gentleman in the red waistcoat and tasselled boots
+often wandered so far afield that he invariably set St. George's teeth
+on edge. Although he had never met Kate before, he called her by her
+first name after the first ten minutes of their acquaintance--his son,
+he explained, having done nothing but sound her praises for the past
+two years, an excuse which carried no weight in gentleman George's mind
+because of its additional familiarity. He had never dared, he knew, to
+extend that familiarity to Peggy--it had always been “Mrs. Coston” to
+her and it had always been “Mr. Coston” to Tom, and it was now “your
+Honor” or “judge” to the dispenser of justice. For though the owner
+of Oak Hill lived within a few miles of the tumble-down remnant that
+sheltered the Costons; and though he had fifty servants to their one, or
+half a one--and broad acres in proportion, to say nothing of flocks and
+herds--St. George had always been aware that he seldom crossed their
+porch steps or they his. That little affair of some fifty or more years
+ago was still remembered, and the children of people who did that sort
+of thing must, of course, pay the penalty. Even Peggy never failed to
+draw the line. “Very nice people, my dear,” he had heard her say to Kate
+one day when the subject of the younger man's family had come up. “Mr.
+Willits senior is a fine, open-hearted man, and does a great deal of
+good in the county with his money--quite a politician, and they do say
+has a fair chance of some time being governor of the State. But very few
+of us about here would want to marry into the family, all the same. Oh
+no, my dear Kate, of course there was nothing against his grandmother.
+She was a very nice woman, I believe, and I've often heard my own mother
+speak of her. Her father came from Albemarle Sound, if I am right, and
+was old John Willits's overseer. The girl was his daughter.”
+
+Kate had made no answer. Who Langdon Willits's grandmother was, or
+whether he had any grandmother at all, did not concern her in the least.
+She rather admired the young Albemarle Sound girl for walking boldly
+into the Willits family--low born as she was--and making them respect
+her.
+
+But none of Peggy's outspoken warnings nor any of St. George's
+silent acceptances of the several situations--always a mark of his
+disapproval--checked the game of love-making which was going on--the
+give-and-take stage of it, with the odds varying with each new shifting
+of the cards, both Peggy and St. George growing the more nervous.
+
+“She's going to accept him, St. George,” Peggy had said to him one
+morning as he stood behind her chair while she was shelling the peas for
+dinner. “I didn't think so when he first came, but I believe it now. I
+have said all I could to her. She has cuddled up in my arms and cried
+herself sick over it, but she won't hold out much longer. Young Rutter
+left her heart all torn and bleeding and this man has bound up the sore
+places. She will never love anybody that way again--and may be it is
+just as well. He'd have kept her guessing all her life as to what he'd
+do next. I wish Willits's blood was better, for she's a dear, sweet
+child and proud as she can be, only she's proud over different things
+from what I would be. But you can make up your mind to it--she'll keep
+him dangling for a while yet, as she did last summer at the Red Sulphur,
+but she'll be his wife in a year or less--you mark my words. You haven't
+yet heard from the first one, have you?--as to when he's coming home?”
+
+St. George hadn't heard--he sighed in return--a habit of his lately: No,
+not for two months or more--not since the letter in which Harry said
+he had left the ship and had gone up into the interior. He had, he told
+her, mentioned the boy's silence to Kate in a casual way, watching the
+effect the news produced upon her--but after the remark that the mails
+were always irregular from those far-away countries, she had turned the
+conversation into other channels, she having caught sight of Willits,
+who had just dismounted from his horse.
+
+As to St. George's own position in the affair he felt that his hands
+were still so firmly tied that he could do nothing one way or the other.
+His personal intercourse with Willits had been such as he would always
+have with a man with whom he was on speaking terms, but it never passed
+that border. He was courteous, careful of his speech, and mindful of the
+young man's devotion to Kate, whose guardian for the time being he was,
+but he neither encouraged nor thwarted his suit. Kate was of age and
+was fully competent to decide for herself--extremely competent, for that
+matter.
+
+How little this clear reader of women's hearts--and scores had been
+spread out before him--knew of Kate's, no one but the girl herself could
+have told. That she was adrift on an open sea without a rudder, and that
+she had already begun to lose confidence both in her seamanship and in
+her compass, was becoming more and more apparent to her every day she
+lived. All she knew positively was that she had been sailing before the
+wind for some weeks past with everything flying loose, and that the time
+had now come for her either to “go about” or keep on her course.
+
+Her suitor's family she had carefully considered. She had also studied
+his environment and the impression he made upon those who had known him
+longest:--she must now focus her mental lenses on the man himself. He
+had, she knew, graduated with honors, being the valedictorian of his
+class; had risen rapidly in his profession, and, from what her father
+said, would soon reach a high place among his brother lawyers. There was
+even talk of sending him to the legislature, where her own father, the
+Honorable Prim, had achieved his title. She wished, of course, that Mr.
+Willits's hair was not quite so red; she wished, too, that the knuckles
+on his hands were not so large and bony--and that he was not always at
+her beck and call; but these, she was forced to admit, were trifles in
+the make-up of a fine man. There was, however, a sane mind under the
+carrot-colored hair and a warm palm inside the knotted knuckles, and
+that was infinitely more important than little physical peculiarities
+which one would forget as life went on. As to his periods of ill health,
+these she herself could have prevented had she told him the whole truth
+that night on the stairs, or the day before when she had parried his
+direct proposal of marriage--a piece of stupidity for which she never
+failed to blame herself.
+
+His future conduct did not trouble her in the least. She had long since
+become convinced that Willits would never again become intemperate. He
+had kept his promise, and this meant more to her than his having given
+way to past temptations. The lesson he had learned at the ball had had,
+too, its full effect. One he had never forgotten. Over and over again
+he had apologized to her for his brutal insolence in laying his profane
+hands on her dancing-card and tearing it to bits before her eyes. He
+had, moreover, deeply regretted the duel and had sworn to her on his
+honor as a gentleman that he would never fight another.
+
+Each time she had listened quietly and had told him how much she was
+pleased and how grateful she was for his confidence and how such fine
+resolutions redounded to his credit, and yet in thinking it over the
+next day she could not help comparing his meek outbursts of sorrow with
+Harry's blunt statement made to her the last time she saw him in the
+park, when, instead of expressing any regret for having shot Willits,
+he had boldly declared that he would do it again if any such insult
+were repeated. And strange to say--and this she could not understand in
+herself--in all such comparisons Harry came out best.
+
+But:--and here she had to hold on to her rudder with all her might--she
+had already made one mistake, tumbling head over heels in love with
+a young fellow who had mortified her before the world when their
+engagement was less than a few months old, making her name and
+affections a byword, and she could not and would not repeat the blunder.
+This had shattered her customary self-reliance, leaving her wellnigh
+helpless. Perhaps after all--an unheard-of thing in her experience--she
+had better seek advice of some older and wiser pilot. Two heads, or even
+three--(here her canny Scotch blood asserted itself)--were better than
+one in deciding so important a matter as the choosing of a mate for
+life. And yet--now she came to think it over--it was not so much a
+question of heads as it was a question of shoulders on which the heads
+rested. To turn to St. George, or to any member of the Willits kin, was
+impossible. Peggy's views she understood. Counsel, however, she must
+have, and at once.
+
+Suddenly an inspiration thrilled her like an electric shock--one that
+sent the blood tingling to the very roots of her hair. Why had she not
+thought of it before! And it must be in the most casual way--quite as a
+matter of general conversation, he doing all the talking and she doing
+all the listening, for on no account must he suspect her purpose.
+
+Within the hour she had tied the ribbons of her wide leghorn hat under
+her dimpled chin, picked up her shawl, and started off alone, following
+the lane to the main road. If the judge, by any chance, had adjourned
+court he would come straight home and she would meet him on the way. If
+he was still engaged in the dispensation of justice, she would wait for
+him outside.
+
+She had judged wisely. Indeed she might have waited for days for some
+such moment and not found so favorable an opportunity. His Honor had
+already left the bench and was then slowly making his way toward where
+she stood, hugging the sidewalk trees the better to shade him from the
+increasing heat. As the day had promised to be an unusually warm one, he
+had attired himself in a full suit of yellow nankeen, with palm-leaf fan
+and wide straw hat--a combination which so matched the color and texture
+of his placid, kindly face that Kate could hardly keep from laughing
+outright. Instead she quickened her steps until she stood beside him,
+her lovely, fresh color heightened by her walk, her eyes sparkling, her
+face wreathed in smiles.
+
+“You are lookin' mighty cute, my Lady Kate, in yo' Paisley shawl and
+sarsanet pelisse,” he called out in his hearty, cheery way. “Has Peggy
+seen 'em? I've been tryin' to get her some just like 'em, only my co't
+duties are so pressin'. Goodness, gracious me!--but it's gettin' hot!”
+ Here he stopped and mopped his face, then his eyes fell upon her again:
+“Bless my soul, child!--you do look pretty this mornin'--jest like yo'
+mother! Where did you get all those pink and white apple-blossoms in yo'
+cheeks?”
+
+“Do you remember her, Mr. Coston?” she rejoined, ignoring his
+compliment.
+
+“Do I remember her! The belle of fo' counties, my dear--eve'ybody at her
+feet; five or six gentlemen co'tin' her at once; old Captain Barkeley,
+cross as a bear--wouldn't let her marry this one or that one--kep' her
+guessin' night and day, till one of 'em blew his brains out, and then
+she fainted dead away. Pretty soon yo' father co'ted her, and bein'
+Scotch, like the old captain and sober as an owl and about as cunnin',
+it wasn't long befo' everything was settled. Very nice man, yo'
+father--got to have things mighty partic'lar; we young bucks used to say
+he slept in a bag of lavender and powdered his cheeks every mornin'
+to make him look fresh, while most of us were soakin' wet in the
+duck-blinds--but that was only our joke. That's long befo' you were
+born, child. But yo' mother didn't live long--they said her heart was
+broken 'bout the other fellow, but there wasn't a word of truth in that
+foolishness--couldn't be. I used to see her and yo' father together long
+after that, and she was mighty good to him, and he was to her.
+Yes--all comes back to me. Stand still, child, and let me look at
+you--yes--you're plumper than yo' mother and a good deal rosier, and
+you don't look so slender and white as she did, like one of those pale
+Indian pipes she used to hunt in the woods. It's the Seymour in you
+that's done that, I reckon.”
+
+Kate walked on in silence. It was not the first time that some of her
+mother's old friends had told her practically the same story--not so
+clearly, perhaps, because few had the simple, outspoken candor of the
+old fellow, but enough to let her know that her father was not her
+mother's first love.
+
+“Don't be in a hurry, child, and don't let anybody choose for you,” he
+ran on. “Peggy and I didn't make any mistakes--and don't you. Now this
+young son of Parker Willits's”--here his wrinkled face tightened up into
+a pucker as if he had just bitten into an unripe persimmon--“good enough
+young man, may be; goin' to be something great, I reckon--in Mr. Taney's
+office, I hear, or will be next winter. I 'spect he'll keep out of
+jail--most Willitses do--but keep an eye on him and watch him, and watch
+yo'self too. That's more important still. The cemetery is a long ways
+off when you marry the wrong man, child. And that other fellow that
+Peggy tells me has been co'tin' you--Talbot Rutter's boy--he's a wild
+one, isn't he?--drunk half the time and fightin' everybody who don't
+agree with him. Come pretty nigh endin' young Willits, so they say. Now
+I hear he's run away to sea and left all his debts behind. Talbot turned
+him neck and heels out of doors when he found it out, so they tell
+me--and served the scapegrace right. Don't be in a hurry, child. Right
+man will come bime-by. Just the same with Peggy till I come along--there
+she is now, bless her sweet heart! Peggy, you darlin'--I got so lonely
+for you I just had to 'journ co't. I've been telling Lady Kate that she
+mustn't be in a hurry to get married till she finds somebody that will
+make her as happy as you and me.” Here the judge slipped his arm around
+Peggy's capacious waist and the two crossed the pasture as the nearest
+way to the house.
+
+Kate kept on her way alone.
+
+Her only reply to the garrulous judge had been one of her rippling
+laughs, but it was the laughter of bubbles with the sediment lying deep
+in the bottom of the glass.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+
+But all outings must come to an end. And so when the marsh grass on
+the lowlands lay in serried waves of dappled satin, and the corn on the
+uplands was waist high and the roses a mob of beauty, Kate threw her
+arms around Peggy and kissed her over and over again, her whole heart
+flowing through her lips; and then the judge got his good-by on his
+wrinkled cheek, and the children on any clean spot which she found on
+their molasses-covered faces; and then the cavalcade took up its line of
+march for the boat-landing, Willits going as far as the wharf, where he
+and Kate had a long talk in low tones, in which he seemed to be doing
+all the talking and she all the listening--“But nuthin' mo'n jes' a
+han'shake” (so Todd told St. George), “he lookin' like he wanter eat
+her up an' she kinder sayin' dat de cake ain't brown 'nough yit fur
+tastin'--but one thing I know fo' sho'--an' dat is she didn't let 'im
+kiss 'er. I wuz leadin' his horse pas' whar dey wuz standin', an'
+de sorrel varmint got cuttin' up an' I kep' him prancin' till Mister
+Willits couldn't stay wid her no longer. Drat dat red-haided--”
+
+“Stop, Todd--be careful--you mustn't speak that way of Mr. Willits.”
+
+“Well, Marse George, I won't--but I ain't neber like him f'om de fust.
+He ain't quality an' he neber kin be. How Miss Kate don' stan' him is
+mo'n I kin tell.”
+
+
+Kate drove up to her father's house in state, with Ben as special envoy
+to see that she and her belongings were properly cared for. St. George
+with Todd and the four dogs--six in all--arrived, despite Kate's
+protestations, on foot.
+
+Pawson met him at the door. He had given up his boarding-house and had
+transferred his traps and parcels to the floor above--into Harry's
+old room, really--in order that the additional rent--(he had now taken
+entire charge of Temple's finances)--might help in the payment of the
+interest on the mortgage. He had thought this all out while St. George
+was at Wesley and had moved in without notifying him, that being the
+best way to solve the problem--St. George still retaining his bedroom
+and dining-room and the use of the front door. Jemima, too, had gone.
+She wanted, so she had told her master the day he left with Kate, to
+take a holiday and visit some of her people who lived down by the Marsh
+Market in an old rookery near the Falls, and would come back when he
+sent for her; but Todd had settled all that the morning of his arrival,
+the moment he caught sight of her black face.
+
+“Ain't no use yo' comin' back,” the darky blurted out. “I'm gwineter do
+de cookin' and de chamber-wo'k. Dere ain't 'nough to eat fo' mo'n two.
+When dem white-livered, no-count, onery gemmens dat stole Marse George's
+money git in de chain-gang, whar dey b'longs, den may be we'll hab
+sumpin' to go to market on, but dat ain't yit; an' don't ye tell Marse
+George I tol' yer or I'll ha'nt ye like dat witch I done heared 'bout
+down to Wesley--ha'nt ye so ye'll think de debble's got ye.” To his
+master, his only explanation was that Jemima had gone to look after her
+sister, who had been taken “wid a mis'ry in her back.”
+
+If St. George knew anything of the common talk going on around him
+no one was ever the wiser. He continued the even tenor of his life,
+visiting and receiving his friends, entertaining his friends in a simple
+and inexpensive way: Once Poe had spent an evening with him, when he
+made a manly, straightforward apology for his conduct the night of the
+dinner, and on another occasion Mr. Kennedy had made an especial point
+of missing a train to Washington to have an hour's chat with him. In the
+afternoons he would have a rubber of whist with the archdeacon who
+lived across the Square--a broad-minded ecclesiastic, who believed in
+relaxation, although, of course, he was never seen at the club; or he
+might drop into the Chesapeake for a talk with Richard or sit beside him
+in his curious laboratory at the rear of his house where he worked out
+many of the problems that absorbed his mind and inspired his hopes. At
+night, however late or early--whenever he reached home--there was always
+a romp with his dogs. This last he rarely omitted. The click of the
+front-door latch, followed by his firm step overhead, was their signal,
+and up they would come, tumbling over each other in their eagerness to
+reach his cheeks--straight up, their paws scraping his clothes; then a
+swoop into the dining-room, when they would be “downed” to the floor,
+their eyes following his every movement.
+
+Nor had his own financial situation begun as yet to trouble him. Todd
+and Pawson, however, had long since become nervous. More than once had
+they put their heads together for some plan by which sufficient money
+could be raised for current expenses. In this praiseworthy effort, to
+Todd's unbounded astonishment, Pawson had one night developed a plan
+in which the greatly feared and much-despised Gadgem was to hold first
+place. Indeed on the very morning succeeding the receipt of Pawson's
+letter and at an hour when St. George would be absent at the club, there
+had come a brisk rat-a-tat on the front door and Gadgem had sidled in.
+
+Todd had not seen the collector since that eventful morning when he
+stood by ready to pick up the pieces of that gentleman's dismembered
+body when his master was about to throw him into the street for doubting
+his word, and he now studied him with the greatest interest. The first
+thing that struck him was the collector's clothes. As the summer was
+approaching he had changed his winter suit for a combination of brown
+linen bound with black--(second hand, of course, its former owner
+having gone out of mourning) and at the moment sported a moth-eaten,
+crape-encircled white beaver with a floppy, two-inch brim, a rusty black
+stock that grabbed him close under the chin, completely submerging his
+collar, and a pair of congress gaiters very much run down at the heel.
+He was evidently master of himself and the situation, for he stood
+looking from Todd to the young lawyer, a furtive, anxious expression
+on his face that betokened both a surprise at being sent for and a
+curiosity to learn the cause, although no word of inquiry passed his
+lips.
+
+Pawson's opening remark calmed the collector's suspicions.
+
+“EXactly,” he answered in a relieved tone, when the plot had been fully
+developed, dragging a mate of the red bandanna--a blue one--from his
+pocket and blowing his nose in an impressive manner. “EXactly--quite
+right--quite right--difficult perhaps--ENORmously difficult
+but--yes--quite right.”
+
+Then there had followed a hurried consultation, during which the
+bullet-headed darky absorbed every word, his eyes rolling about in his
+head, his breath ending somewhere near his jugular vein.
+
+These details duly agreed upon, Gadgem bowed himself out of the
+dining-room, carrying with him a note-book filled with such data as:
+
+    2 fowling pieces made by Purdey, 1838.
+    3 heavy duck guns.
+    2 English saddles.
+    1 silver loving cup.
+    2 silver coasters, etc, etc.,
+
+a list which Todd the night before had prompted and which Pawson, in
+his clear, round hand, had transferred to a sheet of foolscap ready for
+Gadgem in the morning.
+
+On reaching the front door the collector stopped and looked furtively
+up the stairs. He was wondering with professional caution whether St.
+George had returned and was within hearing distance. If so much as a
+hint should reach Temple's ears the whole scheme would come to naught.
+Still in doubt, he called out in his sharpest business voice, as if
+prolonging a conversation which had been carried on inside:
+
+“Yes, Mr. Pawson, please say to Mr. Temple that it is GADgem, of
+GADgem & Coombs--and say that I will be here at ten o'clock
+to-morrow--sharp--on the minute; I am ALways on the minute in matters of
+this kind. Only five minutes of his time--five minutes, remember--” and
+he passed out of hearing.
+
+
+Todd, now duly installed as co-conspirator, opened the ball the next
+morning at breakfast. St. George had slept late, and the hands of the
+marble clock marked but a few minutes of the hour of Gadgem's expected
+arrival, and not a moment could be lost.
+
+“Dat Gadgem man done come yere yisterday,” he began, drawing out his
+master's chair with an extra flourish to hide his nervousness, “an' he
+say he's commin' ag'in dis mornin' at ten o'clock. Clar to goodness it's
+dat now! I done forgot to tell ye.”
+
+“What does he want, Todd?” asked St. George, dropping into his seat.
+
+“I dunno, sah--said he was lookin' fo' sumpin' fo' a frien' ob his--I
+think it was a gun--an' he wanted to know what kind to buy fur him--Yes,
+sah, dem waffles 's jes' off de fire. He 'lowed he didn't know nuffin'
+'bout guns--butter, sah?--an' den Mister Pawson spoke up an' said he'd
+better ask you. He's tame dis time--leastways he 'peared so.”
+
+“A fine gun is rather a difficult thing to get in these days, Todd,”
+ replied St. George, opening his napkin. “Since old Joe Manton died I
+don't know but one good maker--and that's Purdey, of London, and he, I
+hear, has orders to last him five years. No, Todd--I'd rather have the
+toast.”
+
+“Yes, sah--I knowed ye couldn't do nuffln' fur him--Take de top
+piece--dat's de brownest--but he seemed so cut up 'bout it dat I tol'
+him he might see ye fur a minute if he come 'long 'bout ten o'clock,
+when you was fru' yo' bre'kfus', 'fo' ye got tangled up wid yo' letters
+an' de papers. Dat's him now, I spec's. Shall I show him in?”
+
+“Yes, show him in, Todd. Gadgem isn't a bad sort of fellow after all.
+He only wants his pound of flesh, like the others. Ah, good-morning,
+Mr. Gadgem.” The front door had been purposely left open, and though
+the bill collector had knocked by way of warning, he had paused for no
+answer and was already in the room. The little man laid his battered hat
+silently on a chair near the door, pulled down his tight linen sleeves
+with the funereal binding, adjusted his high black stock, and with
+half-creeping, half-cringing movement, advanced to where St. George sat.
+
+“I said good-morning, Mr. Gadgem,” repeated St. George in his most
+captivating tone of voice. He had been greatly amused at Gadgem's
+antics.
+
+“I heard you, sir--I heard you DIStinctly, sir--I was only seeking a
+place on which to rest my hat, sir--not a very inSPIRing hat-quite the
+contrary--but all I have. Yes, sir--you are quite right--it is a VERY
+good morning--a most deLIGHTful morning. I was convinced of that when I
+crossed the park, sir. The trees--”
+
+“Never mind the trees, Gadgem. We will take those up later on. Tell me
+what I can do for you--what do you want?”
+
+“A GUN, sir--a plain, straightforward GUN--one that can be relied upon.
+Not for mySELF, sir--I am not murderously inclined--but for a friend
+who has commissioned me--the exact word, sir--although the percentage
+is small--comMISsioned me to acquire for him a fowling piece of the
+pattern, weight, and build of those belonging to St. George W. Temple,
+Esquire, of Kennedy Square-and so I made bold, sir, to--”
+
+“You won't find it, Gadgem,” replied St. George, buttering the toast. “I
+have two that I have shot with for years that haven't their match in the
+State. Todd, bring me one of those small bird guns--there, behind the
+door in the rack. Hand it to Mr. Gadgem. Now, can you see by the shape
+of--take hold of it, man. But do you know anything about guns?”
+
+“Only enough to keep away from their muzzles, sir.” He had it in his
+hand now--holding it by the end of the barrel, Todd instinctively
+dodging out of the way, although he knew it was not loaded. “No, sir,
+I don't know anything--not the very SMALLest thing about guns. There is
+nothing, in fact, I know so little about as a gun--that is why I have
+come to you.”
+
+St. George recovered the piece and laid it as gently on the table beside
+his plate as if it had been a newly laid egg.
+
+“No, I don't think you do,” he laughed, “or you wouldn't hold it upside
+down. Now go on and give me the rest.”
+
+Gadgem emitted a chuckle--the nearest he ever came to a laugh: “To have
+it go ON, sir, is infinitely preferable than to have it go OFF, sir.
+He-he! And you have, I believe you said, two of these highly valuable
+implements of death?”
+
+“Yes, five altogether--two of this kind. Here, Todd”--and he picked up
+the gun--“put it back behind the door.”
+
+Gadgem felt in his inside pocket, produced and consulted a memorandum
+with the air of a man who wanted to be entirely sure, and in a bland
+voice said:
+
+“I should think at your time of life--if you will permit me, sir--that
+one less gun would not seriously inconvenience you. Would you permit me,
+sir, to hope that--”
+
+St. George looked up from his plate and a peculiar expression flitted
+across his face.
+
+“You mean you want to buy it?”
+
+The bill collector made a little movement forward and scrutinized St.
+George's face with the eye of a hawk. For a man of Temple's kidney to be
+without a fowling piece was like a king being without a crown. This
+was the crucial moment. Gadgem knew Temple's class, and knew just how
+delicately he must be handled. If St. George's pride, or his love for
+his favorite chattels--things personal to himself--should overcome him,
+the whole scheme would fall to the ground. That any gentleman of
+his standing had ever seen the inside of a pawn-shop in his life was
+unthinkable. This was what Gadgem faced. As for Todd, he had not drawn a
+full breath since Gadgem opened his case.
+
+“Not EXactly buy it, sir,” purred Gadgem, twisting his body into
+an obsequious spiral. “Men of your position do not traffic in such
+things--but if you would be persuaded, sir, for a money consideration
+which you would fix yourself--say the ORIGinal cost of the gun--to
+spare one of your five--you would greatly delight--in fact, you would
+overWHELM with gratitude--a friend of mine.”
+
+St. George hesitated, looked out of the window and a brand-new thought
+forced its way into his mind--as if a closet had been suddenly opened,
+revealing a skeleton he had either forgotten or had put permanently
+out of sight. There WAS need of this “original cost”--instant
+need--something he had entirely forgotten. Jemima would soon need
+it--perhaps needed it at that very minute. He had, it was true, often
+kept her waiting: but that was when he could pay at his pleasure; now,
+perhaps, he couldn't pay at all.
+
+“All right, Gadgem,” he said slowly, a far-away, thoughtful look on his
+face--“come to think of it I don't need two guns of this calibre, and
+I am quite willing to let this one go, if it will oblige your friend.”
+ Here Todd breathed a sigh of relief so loud and deep that his master
+turned his head in inquiry. “As to the price--I'll look that up. Come
+and see me again in a day or two. Better take the gun with you now.”
+
+The fight had been won, but the risk had been great. Even Pawson could
+hardly believe his ears when Gadgem, five minutes later, related the
+outcome of the interview.
+
+“Well, then, it will be plain sailing so long as the rest of the things
+last,” said Pawson, handling the piece with a covetous touch. He too
+liked a day off when he could get it. “Who will you sell the gun to,
+Gadgem?”
+
+“God knows--I don't! I'll borrow the money on it somehow--but I can't
+see him suffer--no, sir--can't see him SUFfer. It's a pleasure to serve
+him--real gentleman--REAL--do you hear, Pawson? No veneer--no sham--no
+lies! Damn few such men, I tell you. Never met one before-never will
+meet one again. Gave up everything he had for a rattle-brain young
+scamp--BEGgared himself to pay his debts--not a drop of the fellow's
+blood in his veins either--incredible--inCREDible! Got to handle him
+like gunpowder or he'll blow everything into matchsticks. Find out the
+price and I'll bring the money to-morrow. Do you pay it to him; I can't.
+I'd feel too damn mean after lying to him the way I have. Feel that way
+now. Good-day.”
+
+The same scene was practically repeated the following month. It was an
+English saddle this time, St. George having two. And it was the same
+unknown gentleman who figured as “the much-obliged friend,” Pawson
+conducting the negotiations and securing the owner's consent. On this
+occasion Gadgem sold the saddle outright to the keeper of a livery
+stable, whose bills he collected, paying the difference between the
+asking and the selling price out of his own pocket.
+
+Gradually, however, St. George awoke to certain unsuspected features of
+what was going on around him. The discovery was made one morning when
+the go-between was closeted in Pawson's lower office, Pawson conducting
+the negotiations in St. George's dining-room. The young attorney,
+with Gadgem's assistance, had staved off some accounts until a legal
+ultimatum had been reached, and, having but few resources of his
+own left, had, with Todd's help, decided that the silver loving-cup
+presented to his client's father by the Marquis de Castullux could alone
+save the situation--a decision which brought an emphatic refusal from
+the owner. This and the discovery of Pawson's and Gadgem's treachery had
+greatly incensed him.
+
+“And you tell me, Pawson, that that scoundrel, Gadgem, has--Todd go
+down and bring him up here immediately--has had the audacity to run a
+pawnshop for my benefit without so much as asking my leave?--peddling
+my things?--lying to me straight through?” Here the door opened and
+Gadgem's face peered in. He had, as was his custom, crept upstairs so as
+to be within instant call when wanted.
+
+“Yes--I am speaking of you, sir. Come inside and shut that door behind
+you. You too, Todd. What the devil do you mean, Gadgem, by deceiving me
+in this way? Don't you know I would rather have starved to death than--”
+
+Gadgem raised his hand in protest:
+
+“EXactly so, sir. That's what we were afraid of, sir--such an
+uncomfortable thing to starve to death, sir--I couldn't permit it,
+sir--I'd rather walk my feet off than permit it. I did walk them off--”
+
+“But who asked you to tramp the streets with my things uuder your arm?
+And you lied to me about it--you said you wanted to oblige a friend.
+There wasn't a word of truth in it, and you know it.”
+
+Again Gadgem's hand went out with a pleading “Please-don't” gesture.
+“Less than a word, sir--a whole dictionary, less, sir, and UNabridged
+at that, if I might be permitted to say it. My friend still has the
+implement of death, and not only does he still possess it, but he is
+ENORmously obliged. Indeed, I have never SEEN him so happy.”
+
+“You mean to tell me, Gadgem,” St. George burst out, “that the money you
+paid me for the gun really came from a friend of yours?”
+
+“I do, sir.” Gadgem's gimlet eye was worming itself into Temple's.
+
+“What's his name?”
+
+“Gadgem, sir--John Gadgem, of Gadgem & Coombs--Gadgem sole survivor,
+since Coombs is with the angels; the foreclosure having taken place last
+month: hence these weeds.” And he lifted the tails of his black coat in
+evidence.
+
+“Out of your own money?”
+
+“Yes, sir--some I had laid away.”
+
+St. George wheeled suddenly and stood looking first at Gadgem, then at
+Pawson, and last at Todd, as if for confirmation. Then a light broke in
+upon him--one that played over his face in uncertain flashes.
+
+“And you did this for me?” he asked thoughtfully, fixing his gaze on
+Gadgem.
+
+“I did, sir,” came the answer in a meek voice, as if he had been
+detected in filching an apple from a stand; “and I would do it again--do
+it over and over again. And it has been a great pleasure for me to do
+it. I might say, sir, that it has been a kind of exTREME bliss to do
+it.”
+
+“Why?” There was a tremor now in Temple's voice that even Todd had never
+noticed before.
+
+Gadgem turned his head away. “I don't know, sir,” he replied in a lower
+tone. “I couldn't explain it on oath; I don't care to explain it, sir.”
+ No lie could serve him now--better make a clean breast of the villany.
+
+“And you still own the gun?” Todd had never seen his master so gentle
+before--not under a provocation such as this.
+
+“I do, sir.” Gadgem's voice was barely audible.
+
+“Then it means that you have locked up just that much of your own money
+for a thing you can never use yourself and can't sell. Am I right?”
+
+Gadgem lowered his head and for a moment studied the carpet. His
+activities, now that the cat was out of the bag, were fair subjects for
+discussion, but not his charities.
+
+“I prefer not to answer, sir, and--” the last words died in his throat.
+
+“But it's true, isn't it?” persisted St. George. He had never once taken
+his eyes from Gadgem.
+
+“Yes, it's true.”
+
+St. George turned on his heel, walked to the mantel, stood for an
+instant gazing into the empty fireplace, and then, with that same
+straightening of his shoulders and lift of his head which his friends
+knew so well when he was deeply stirred, confronted the collector again:
+
+“Gadgem!” He stopped and caught his breath. For a moment it seemed as
+if something in his throat choked his utterance. “Gadgem--give me your
+hand! Do you know you are a gentleman and a thoroughbred! No--don't
+speak--don't explain. We understand each other. Todd, bring three
+glasses and hand me what is left of the old Port. And do you join us,
+Pawson.”
+
+Todd, whose eyes had been popping from his head during the entire
+interview, and who was still amazed at the outcome, suddenly woke to
+the dangers of the situation: on no account must his master's straits be
+further revealed. He raised his hand as a signal to St. George, who
+was still looking into Gadgem's eyes, screwed his face into a tangle
+of puckers and in a husky whisper muttered, so low that only his master
+could hear:
+
+“Dat Port, Marse George”--one eye now went entirely out in a wink--“is
+gittin' a leetle mite low” (there hadn't been a drop of it in the house
+for six months) “an' if--”
+
+“Well, then, that old Brown Sherry--get a fresh bottle, Todd--” St.
+George was quite honest, and so, for that matter, was Todd: the Brown
+Sherry had also seen its day.
+
+“Yes, sah--but how would dat fine ol' peach brandy de jedge gin ye do?
+It's sp'ilin' to be tasted, sah.” Both eyes were now in eclipse in
+the effort to apprise his master that with the exception of some badly
+corked Madeira, Tom Coston's peach brandy was about the only beverage
+left in the cellar.
+
+“Well, the old peach brandy, then--get it at once and serve it in the
+large glasses.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+
+St. George had now reached the last stage of his poverty. The selling or
+pawning of the few valuables left him had been consummated and with the
+greatest delicacy, so as best to spare his feelings. That he had been
+assisted by hitherto unknown friends who had sacrificed their own
+balances in his behalf, added temporarily to his comforts but did not
+lessen the gravity of the present situation. The fact remained that with
+the exception of a few possible assets he was practically penniless.
+Every old debt that could be collected--and Gadgem had been a scourge
+and a flaming sword as the weeks went on in their gathering--had been
+rounded up. Even his minor interests in two small ground rents had,
+thanks to Pawson, been cashed some years in advance. His available
+resources were now represented by some guns, old books, bridles, another
+saddle, his rare Chinese punch-bowl and its teakwood stand, and a few
+remaining odds and ends.
+
+He could hope for no payment from the Patapsco--certainly not for some
+years; nor could he raise money even on these hopes, the general opinion
+being that despite the efforts of John Gorsuch, Rutter, and Harding to
+punish the guilty and resuscitate the innocent, the bank would finally
+collapse without a cent being paid the depositors. As for that old
+family suit, it had been in the courts for forty-odd years and it was
+likely to be there forty-odd years more before a penny would be realized
+from the settlement.
+
+Had he been differently constructed--he a man with scores and scores of
+friends, many of whom would gladly have helped him--he might have made
+his wants known; but such was not his make-up. The men to whom he
+could apply--men like Horn, the archdeacon, Murdoch, and one or two
+others--had no money of their own to spare, and as for wealthier
+men--men like Rutter and Harding--starvation itself would be preferable
+to an indebtedness of that kind. Then again, he did not want his poverty
+known. He had defied Talbot Rutter, and had practically shown him the
+door when the colonel doubted his ability to pay Harry's debts and
+still live, and no humiliation would be greater than to see Rutter's
+satisfaction over his abject surrender. No--if the worst came to the
+worst, he would slip back to Wesley, where he was always welcome and
+take up the practice of the law, which he had abandoned since his
+father's death, and thus earn money enough not to be a burden to Peggy.
+In the meantime something might turn up. Perhaps another of Gadgem's
+thumb-screws could be fastened on some delinquent and thus extort a
+drop or two; or the bank might begin paying ten per cent.; or another
+prepayment might be squeezed out of a ground rent. If none of these
+things turned out to his advantage, then Gadgem and Pawson must continue
+their search for customers who would have the rare opportunity of
+purchasing, direct “from the private collection of a gentleman,” etc.,
+etc., “one first-class English saddle,” etc., etc.
+
+“The meantime,” however, brought no relief. Indeed so acute had the
+financial strain become that another and a greater sacrifice--one that
+fairly cut his heart in two--faced him--the parting with his dogs. That
+four mouths besides his own and Todd's were too many to feed had of late
+become painfully evident. He might send them to Wesley of course, but
+then he remembered that no one at Tom Coston's ever had a gun in their
+hands, and they would only be a charge and a nuisance to Peggy. Or he
+might send them up into Carroll County to a farmer friend, but in that
+case he would have to pay their keep, and he needed the money for those
+at home. And so he waited and pondered.
+
+A coachman from across the park solved the difficulty a day or two
+later with a whispered word in Todd's ear, which set the boy's temper
+ablaze--for he dearly loved the dogs himself--until he had talked it
+over with Pawson and Gadgem, and had then broken the news to his master
+as best he could.
+
+“Dem dogs is eatin' dere haids off,” he began, fidgeting about the
+table, brushing the crumbs on to a tray only to spill half of them on
+the floor--“an' Mister Floyd's coachman done say dat his young marster's
+jes' a-dyin' for 'em an' don't cyar what he pay for 'em, dat is if ye--”
+ but St. George cut him short.
+
+“What did you say, Todd?”
+
+“Why dat young marster dat's jes' come up f'om Ann'rundel--got mo' money
+den he kin th'ow 'way I yere.”
+
+“And they are eating their heads off, are they?--and he wants to swap
+his dirty money for my--Yes--I know. They think they can buy anything
+with a banknote. And its Floe and Dandy and Sue and Rupert, is it?
+And I'm to sell them--I who have slept with them and ate with them
+and hugged them a thousand times. Of course they eat their heads off.
+Yes--don't say another word. Send them up one at a time--Floe first!”
+
+The scene that followed always lingered in his mind. For days thereafter
+he could not mention their name, even to Todd, without the tears
+springing to his eyes.
+
+Up the kitchen flight they tumbled--not one at a time, but all in a
+scramble, bounding straight at him, slobbering all over his face and
+hands, their paws scraping his clothes--each trying to climb into his
+lap--big Gordon setters, all four. He swept them off and ranged them in
+a row before his arm-chair with their noses flat to the carpet, their
+brown agate eyes following his every movement.
+
+“Todd says you eat too much, you damned rascals!” he cried in enforced
+gayety, leaning forward, shaking his finger in their faces. “What the
+devil do you mean, coming into a gentleman's private apartments and
+eating him out of house and home!--and that's what you're doing.
+I'm going to sell you!--do you hear that?--sell you to some stingy
+curmudgeon who'll starve you to death, and that's what you deserve!...
+Come here, Floe--you dear old doggie, you--nice Floe!... Here,
+Dandy--Rupert--Sue!” They were all in his arms, their cold noses
+snuggled under his warm chin. But this time he didn't care what they
+did to his clothes--nor what he did to them. He was alone; Todd had
+gone down to the kitchen--only he and the four companions so dear to his
+heart. “Come here, you imp of the devil,” he continued, rubbing Floe's
+ears--he loved her best--pinching her nose until her teeth showed;
+patting her flanks, crooning over her as a woman would over a child,
+talking to himself all the time. “I wonder if Floyd will be good to
+them! If I thought he wouldn't I'd rather starve than--No--I reckon it's
+all right--he's got plenty of room and plenty of people to look
+after them.” Then he rose from his chair and drew his hand across
+his forehead. “Got to sell my dogs, eh? Turned traitor, have you, Mr.
+Temple, and gone back on your best friends? By God! I wonder what will
+come next?” He strode across the room, rang for Todd, and bending down
+loosened a collar from Dandy's neck, on which his own name was engraved,
+“St. George Wilmot Temple, Esquire.” “Esquire, eh?” he muttered, reading
+the plate. “What a damned lie! Property of a pauper living on pawnshops
+and a bill collector! Nice piece of business, St. George--fine record
+for your blood and breeding! Ah, Todd--that you? Well, take them
+downstairs and send word to Mr. Floyd's man to call for them to-night,
+and when you come back I'll have a letter ready for you. Come here, you
+rascals, and let me hug one or two of you. Good Floe--good doggie.”
+ Then the long-fought choke in his throat strangled him. “Take them away,
+Todd,” he said in a husky voice, straightening his shoulders as if the
+better to get his breath, and with a deep indrawn sigh walked slowly
+into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.
+
+Half an hour later there followed a short note, written on one of his
+few remaining sheets of English paper, addressed to the new owner, in
+which he informed that gentleman that he bespoke for his late companions
+the same care and attention which he had always given them himself,
+and which they so richly deserved, and which he felt sure they would
+continue to receive while in the service of his esteemed and honored
+correspondent. This he sealed in wax and stamped with his crest; and
+this was duly delivered by Todd--and so the painful incident had come to
+an end.
+
+The dogs disposed of, there still remained to him another issue to
+meet--the wages he owed Jemima. Although she had not allowed the subject
+to pass her lips--not even to Todd--St. George knew that she needed the
+money--she being a free woman and her earnings her own--not a master's.
+He had twice before determined to set aside enough money from former
+cash receipts to liquidate Jemima's debt--once from the proceeds of
+Gadgem's gun and again from what Floyd paid him for the dogs--but Todd
+had insisted with such vehemence that he needed it for the marketing,
+that he had let it go over.
+
+The one remaining object of real value was the famous loving-cup. With
+this turned into money he would be able to pay Jemima in full. For days
+he debated the matter with himself, putting the question in a dozen
+different lights: it was not really HIS cup, but belonged to the family,
+he being only its custodian; it would reflect on his personal honor if
+he traded so distinguished a gift--one marking the esteem in which his
+dead father had been held, etc. Then the round, good-natured face and
+bent figure of his old stand-by and comfort--who had worked for him and
+for his father almost all her life--rose before him, she bending over
+her tubs earning the bread to keep her alive, and with this picture in
+his mind all his fine-spun theories vanished into thin air. Todd was
+summoned and thus the last connecting link between the past and
+present was broken and the precious heirloom turned over to Kirk, the
+silversmith, who the next day found a purchaser with one of the French
+secretaries in Washington, a descendant of the marquis.
+
+With the whole of the purchase money in his hands and his mind firmly
+made up he rang for his servant:
+
+“Come along, Todd--show me where Aunt Jemima lives--it's somewhere down
+by the market, I hear--I'm going now.”
+
+The darky's face got as near white as his skin would allow: this was the
+last thing he had expected.
+
+“Dat ain't no fit place for ye, Marse George,” he stammered. “I'll
+go an' git her an' bring her up; she tol' me when I carried dat las'
+washin' down she wuz a-comin' dis week.”
+
+“No, her sister is sick and she is needed where she is. Get your basket
+and come along--you can do your marketing down there. Bring me my hat
+and cane. What's the matter with her sister, do you know?”
+
+Again the darky hedged: “Dunno, sah--some kin' o' mis'ry in her back
+I reckon. Las' time Aunt Jemima was yere she say de doctor 'lowed her
+kittens was 'fected.” (It was another invalid limping past the front
+steps who had put that in his head.)
+
+St. George roared: “Well, whatever she's got, I'm going to pay my
+respects to her; I've neglected Aunt Jemima too long. No--my best
+hat--don't forget that I'm going to call on a very distinguished colored
+lady. Come, out with it. How far does she live from the market?”
+
+“Jes' 'bout's far's from yere to de church. Is you gwine now? I got a
+heap o' cleanin' ter do--dem steps is all gormed up, dey's dat dirty.
+Maybe we better go when--”
+
+“Not another word out of you! I'm going now.” He could feel the money in
+his pocket and he could not wait. “Get your basket.”
+
+Todd led the way and the two crossed the park and struck out for the
+lower part of the city, near Jones Falls, into a district surrounded by
+one-and two-story houses inhabited by the poorer class of whites and the
+more well-to-do free negroes. Here the streets, especially those which
+ran to the wharves, were narrow and ill-paved, their rough cobbles
+being often obstructed by idle drays, heavy anchors, and rusting
+anchor-chains, all on free storage. Up one of these crooked streets,
+screened from the brick sidewalk by a measly wooden fence, stood a
+two-story wooden house, its front yard decorated with clothes-lines
+running criss-cross from thumbs of fence-posts to fingers of shutters--a
+sort of cat's-cradle along whose meshes Aunt Jemima hung her wet
+clothes.
+
+On this particular day what was left of St. George Temple's wardrobe and
+bed linen, with the exception of what that gentleman had on his back,
+was either waving in the cool air of the morning or being clothes-pinned
+so that it might wave later on.
+
+Todd's anxious face was the first to thrust itself from around the
+corner of a sagging, sloppy sheet. The two had entered the gate in the
+fence at the same moment, but St. George had been lost in the maze of
+dripping linen.
+
+“Go'way f'om dar, you fool nigger, mussin' up my wash! Keep yo' black
+haid off'er dem sheets, I tell ye, 'fo' I smack ye! An' ye needn't come
+down yere a-sassin' me 'bout Marse George's clo'es, 'cause dey ain't
+done--” (here Temple's head came into view, his face in a broad smile).
+“Well, fer de lan's sakes, Marse George. What ye come down yere fer?
+Here--lemme git dat basket outer yo' way--No, dem hands ain't fit fer
+nobody to shake--My!--but I's mighty glad ter see ye! Don't tell me
+ye come fer dat wash--I been so pestered wid de weather--nothin' don't
+dry.”
+
+He had dodged a wet sheet and had the old woman by the hand now, her
+face in a broad grin at sight of him.
+
+“No, aunty--I came down to pay you some money.”
+
+“You don't owe me no money--leastwise you don't owe me nothin' till ye
+kin pay it,” and she darted an annihilating glance at Todd.
+
+“Yes, I do--but let me see where you live. What a fine place--plenty of
+room except on wash-days. All those mine?--I didn't know I had that many
+clothes left. Pick up that basket, Todd, and bring it in for aunty.” The
+two made their way between the wet linen and found themselves in front
+of the dwelling. “And is this all yours?”
+
+“De fust flo' front an 'back is mine an' de top flo' I rents out. Got a
+white man in dere now dat works in de lumber yard. Jes' come up an' see
+how I fixed it up.”
+
+“And tell me about your sister--is she better?” he continued.
+
+The old woman put her arms akimbo: “Lawd bress ye, Marse George!--who
+done tol' ye dat fool lie! I ain't got no sister--not yere!”
+
+“Why, I thought you couldn't come back to me because you had to nurse
+some member of your family who had kittens, or some such misery in her
+spine--wasn't that it, Todd?” said St. George trying to conceal a smile.
+
+Todd shot a beseeching look at Jemima to confirm his picturesque yarn,
+but the old woman would have none of it.
+
+“Dere ain't been nobody to tek care ob but des me. I come yere 'cause
+I knowed ye didn't hab no money to keep me, an' I got back de ol'
+furniture what I had fo' I come to lib wid ye, an' went to washin', an'
+if dat yaller skunk's been tellin' any lies 'bout me I'm gwineter wring
+his neck.”
+
+“No, let Todd alone,” laughed St. George, his heart warming to the old
+woman at this further proof of her love for him. “The Lord has already
+forgiven him that lie, and so have I. And now what have you got
+upstairs?”
+
+They had mounted the steps by this time and St. George was peering into
+a clean, simply furnished room. “First rate, aunty--your lumber-yard
+man is in luck. And now put that in your pocket,” and he handed her the
+package.
+
+“What's dis?”
+
+“Nearly half a year's wages.”
+
+“I ain't gwineter take it,” she snapped back in a positive tone.
+
+St. George laid his hand tenderly on the old woman's shoulder. She had
+served him faithfully for many years and he was very fond of her.
+
+“Tuck it in your bosom, aunty--it should have been paid long ago.”
+
+She looked at him shrewdly: “Did de bank pay ye yit, Marse George?”
+
+No
+
+“Den I ain't gwineter tech it--I ain't gwineter tech a fip ob it!” she
+exploded. “How I know ye ain't a-sufferin' fer it! See dat wash?--an' I
+got anudder room to rent if I'm min' ter scrunch up a leetle mo'. I kin
+git 'long.”
+
+St. George's hand again tightened on her shoulder.
+
+“Take it when you can get it, aunty,” he said in a more serious tone,
+and turning on his heel joined Todd below, leaving the old woman in
+tears at the top of the stairs, the money on her limp outspread fingers.
+
+All the way back to his home--they had stopped to replenish the larder
+at the market--St. George kept up his spirits. Absurd as it was--he
+a man tottering on the brink of dire poverty--the situation from his
+stand-point was far from perilous. He had discharged the one debt that
+had caused him the most anxiety--the money due the faithful old cook; he
+had a basketful of good things--among them half a dozen quail and three
+diamond-back terrapin--the cheapest food in the market--and he had funds
+left for his immediate wants.
+
+With this feeling of contentment permeating his mind something of the
+old feeling of independence, with its indifference toward the dollar and
+what it meant and could bring him, welled up in his heart. For a time at
+least the spectre of debt lay hidden. A certain old-time happiness began
+to show itself in his face and bearing. So evident was this that before
+many days had passed even Todd noticed the return of his old buoyancy,
+and so felt privileged to discuss his own feelings, now that the secret
+of their mode of earning a common livelihood was no longer a bugbear to
+his master.
+
+“Dem taters what we got outer de extry sterrups of dat ridin'-saddle is
+mos' gone,” he ventured one morning at breakfast, when the remains of
+the cup money had reached a low ebb. “Shall I tote de udder saddle down
+to dat Gadgem man”--(he never called him anything else, although of late
+he had conceived a marked respect for the collector)--“or shall I keep
+it fer some mo' sugar?”
+
+“What else is short, Todd?” said St. George, good-naturedly, helping
+himself to another piece of corn bread.
+
+“Well, dere's plenty ob dose decanter crackers and de pair ob andirons
+is still holdin' out wid de mango pickles an' de cheese, but dat pair
+ob ridin'-boots is mos' gone. We got half barrel ob flour an' a bag o'
+coffee, ye 'member, wid dem boots. I done seen some smoked herrin' in
+de market yisterday mawnin' 'd go mighty good wid de buckwheat cakes an'
+sugar-house 'lasses--only we ain't got no 'lasses. I was a-thinkin' dem
+two ol' cheers in de garret 'd come in handy; ain't nobody sot in em
+since I been yere; de bottoms is outen one o' dem, but de legs an' backs
+is good 'nough fer a quart o' 'lasses. I kin take 'em down to de same
+place dat Gadgem man tol' me to take de big brass shovel an' tongs--”
+
+“All right, Todd,” rejoined St. George, highly amused at the boy's
+economic resources. “Anything that Mr. Gadgem recommends I agree to.
+Yes--take him the chairs--both of them.”
+
+Even the men at the club had noticed the change and congratulated him on
+his good spirits. None of them knew of his desperate straits, although
+many of them had remarked on the differences in his hospitality, while
+some of the younger gallants--men who made a study of the height
+and roll of the collars of their coats and the latest cut of
+waistcoats--especially the increased width of the frogs on the
+lapels--had whispered to each other that Temple's clothes certainly
+needed overhauling; more particularly his shirts, which were much
+the worse for wear: one critic laying the seeming indifference to the
+carelessness of a man who was growing old; another shaking his head with
+the remark that it was Poole's bill which was growing old--older by a
+good deal than the clothes, and that it would have to be patched and
+darned with one of old George Brown's (the banker's) scraps of paper
+before the wearer could regain his reputation of being the best-dressed
+man in or out of the club.
+
+None of these lapses from his former well-to-do estate made any
+difference, however, to St. George's intimates when it came to the
+selection of important guests for places at table or to assist in the
+success of some unusual function. Almost every one in and around Kennedy
+Square had been crippled in their finances by the failure, not only
+of the Patapsco, but by kindred institutions, during the preceding few
+years. Why, then, they argued, should any one criticise such economies
+as Temple was practising? He was still living in his house with his
+servants--one or two less, perhaps--but still in comfort, and if he did
+not entertain as heretofore, what of it? His old love of sport, as was
+shown by his frequent visits to his estates on the Eastern Shore, might
+account for some of the changes in his hospitable habits, there not
+being money enough to keep up establishments both in country and town.
+These changes, of course, could only be temporary. His properties on
+the peninsula--(almost everybody had “properties” in those days, whether
+imaginary or real)--would come up some day, and then all would be well
+again.
+
+The House of Seymour was particularly in the dark. The Honorable Prim,
+in his dense ignorance, had even asked St. George to join in one of his
+commercial enterprises--the building of a new clipper ship--while Kate,
+who had never waited five minutes in all her life for anything that
+a dollar could buy, had begged a subscription for a charity she was
+managing, and which she received with a kiss and a laugh, and without a
+moment's hesitation, from a purse shrinking steadily by the hour.
+
+Only when some idle jest or well-meant inquiry diverted his mind to
+the chain of events leading up to Harry's exile was his insistent
+cheerfulness under his fast accumulating misfortunes ever checked.
+
+Todd was the cruel disturber on this particular day, with a bit of
+information which, by reason of its source, St. George judged must be
+true, and which because of its import brought him infinite pain.
+
+“Purty soon we won't hab 'nough spoons to stir a toddy wid,” Todd had
+begun. “I tell ye, Marse George, dey ain't none o' dem gwine down in
+dere pockets till de constable gits 'em. I jes' wish Marse Harry was
+yere--he'd fix 'em. 'Fo' dey knowed whar dey wuz he'd hab 'em full o'
+holes. Dat red-haided, no-count gemman what's a-makin up to Miss Kate is
+gwineter git her fo' sho--”
+
+It was here that St. George had raised his head, his heart in his mouth.
+
+“How do you know, Todd?” he asked in a serious tone. He had long since
+ceased correcting Todd for his oustpoken reflections on Kate's suitor as
+a useless expenditure of time.
+
+“'Cause Mammy Henny done tol' Aunt Jemima so--an' she purty nigh cried
+her eyes out when she said it. Ye ain't heared nothin' 'bout Marse Harry
+comin' home, is ye?”
+
+“No--not a word--not for many months, Todd. He's up in the mountains, so
+his mother tells me.”
+
+Whereupon Todd had gulped down an imprecation expressive of his feelings
+and had gone about his duties, while St. George had buried himself
+in his easy-chair, his eyes fixed on vacancy, his soul all the more
+a-hungered for the boy he loved. He wondered where the lad was--why he
+hadn't written. Whether the fever had overtaken him and he laid up
+in some filthy hospital. Almost every week his mother had either come
+herself or sent in for news, accompanied by messages expressing some new
+phase of her anxiety. Or had he grown and broadened out and become big
+and strong?--whom had he met, and how had they treated him?--and would
+he want to leave home again when once he came back? Then, as always,
+there came a feeling of intense relief. He thanked God that Harry WASN'T
+at home; a daily witness of the shrinkage of his resources and the
+shifts to which he was being put. This would be ten times worse for
+him to bear than the loss of the boy's companionship. Harry would then
+upbraid him for the sacrifices he had made for him, as if he would
+not take every step over again! Take them!--of course he would take
+them!--so would any other gentleman. Not to have come to Harry's rescue
+in that the most critical hour of his life, when he was disowned by his
+father, rejected by his sweetheart, and hounded by creditors, not one of
+whom did he justly owe, was unthinkable, absolutely unthinkable, and not
+worth a moment's consideration.
+
+And so he would sit and muse, his head in his hand, his well-rounded
+legs stretched toward the fire, his white, shapely fingers tapping
+the arms of his chair--each click so many telegraphic records of the
+workings of his mind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+
+With the closing in of the autumn and the coming of the first winter
+cold, the denizens of Kennedy Square gave themselves over to the
+season's entertainments. Mrs. Cheston, as was her usual custom, issued
+invitations for a ball--this one in honor of the officers who had
+distinguished themselves in the Mexican War. Major Clayton, Bowdoin,
+the Murdochs, Stirlings, and Howards--all persons of the highest
+quality--inaugurated a series of chess tournaments, the several players
+and those who came to look on to be thereafter comforted with such
+toothsome solids as wild turkey, terrapin, and olio, and such delectable
+liquids as were stored in the cellars of their hosts. Old Judge
+Pancoast, yielding to the general demand, gave an oyster roast--his
+enormous kitchen being the place of all others for such a function. On
+this occasion two long wooden tables were scoured to an unprecedented
+whiteness--the young girls in white aprons and the young men in white
+jackets serving as waiters--and laid with wooden plates, and two big
+wooden bowls--one for the hot, sizzling shells just off their bed of
+hickory coals banked on the kitchen hearth, and the other for the empty
+ones--the fun continuing until the wee sma' hours of the morning.
+
+The Honorable Prim and his charming daughter, not to be outdone by
+their neighbors, cleared the front drawing-room of its heavy furniture,
+covered every inch of the tufted carpet with linen crash, and with old
+black Jones as fiddler and M. Robinette--a French exile--as instructor
+in the cutting of pigeon wings and the proper turning out of ankles and
+toes, opened the first of a series of morning soirees for the young folk
+of the neighborhood, to which were invited not only their mothers, but
+their black mammies as well.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Richard Horn, not having any blithesome daughter, nor any
+full-grown son--Oliver being but a child of six--and Richard and his
+charming wife having long since given up their dancing-slippers--were
+good enough to announce--(and it was astonishing what an excitement it
+raised)--that “On the Monday night following Mr. Horn would read aloud,
+to such of his friends as would do him the honor of being present, the
+latest Christmas story by Mr. Charles Dickens, entitled 'The Cricket on
+the Hearth.'” For this occasion Mr. Kennedy had loaned him his own
+copy, one of the earliest bound volumes, bearing on its fly-leaf an
+inscription in the great master's own handwriting in which he thanked
+the distinguished author of “Swallow Barn” for the many kindnesses he
+had shown him during his visit to America, and begged his indulgence for
+his third attempt to express between covers the sentiment and feeling of
+the Christmas season.
+
+Not that this was an unusual form of entertainment, nor one that excited
+special comment. Almost every neighborhood had its morning (and often
+its evening) “Readings,” presided over by some one who read well and
+without fatigue--some sweet old maid, perhaps, who knew how to grow old
+gracefully. At these times a table would be rolled into the library by
+the deferential servant of the house, on which he would place the dear
+lady's spectacles and a book, its ivory marker showing where the last
+reading had ended--it might be Prescott's “Ferdinand and Isabella,” or
+Irving's “Granada,” or Thackeray's “Vanity Fair,” or perhaps, Dickens's
+“Martin Chuzzlewit.”
+
+At eleven o'clock the girls would begin to arrive, each one bringing her
+needle-work of some kind--worsted, or embroidery, or knitting--something
+she could manage without discomfort to herself or anybody about her, and
+when the last young lady was in her seat, the same noiseless darky would
+tiptoe in and take his place behind the old maid's chair. Then he would
+slip a stool under her absurdly small slippers and tiptoe out again,
+shutting the door behind him as quietly as if he found the dear lady
+asleep--and so the reading would begin.
+
+A reading by Richard, however, was always an event of unusual
+importance, and an invitation to be present was never declined whether
+received by letter or by word of mouth.
+
+St. George had been looking forward eagerly to the night, and when the
+shadows began to fall in his now almost bare bedroom, he sent for Todd
+to help him dress.
+
+“Have you got a shirt for me, Todd?”
+
+“Got seben oh 'em. Dey wants a li'l' trimmin' roun' de aidges, but I
+reckon we kin make 'em do--Aunt Jemima sont 'em home dis mawnin'. She's
+been a-workin' on 'em, she says. Looks ter me like a goat had a moufful
+outer dis yere sleeve, but I dassent tell er so. Lot o' dem butters
+wanderin' roun' dat Marsh market lookin' fer sumpin' to eat; lemme gib
+dem boots anudder tech.”
+
+Todd skipped downstairs with the boots and St. George continued
+dressing; selecting his best and most becoming scarf; pinning down the
+lapels of his buff waistcoat; scissoring the points of his high collar,
+and with Todd's assistance working his arms between the slits in the
+silk lining of the sleeves of his blue cloth, brass-buttoned coat, which
+he finally pulled into place across his chest.
+
+And a well-dressed man he was in spite of the frayed edges of his collar
+and shirt ruffles and the shiny spots in his trousers and coat where
+the nap was worn smooth, nor was there any man of his age who wore his
+clothes as well, no matter what their condition, or one who made so
+debonair an appearance.
+
+Pawson was of that opinion to-night when St. George, his toilet
+complete, joined him at the bottom of the stairs. Indeed he thought he
+had never seen his client look better--a discovery which sent a spasm of
+satisfaction through his long body, for he had a piece of important news
+to tell him, and had been trying all day to make up his mind how best to
+break it.
+
+“You look younger, Mr. Temple,” he began, “and, if you will allow me to
+say so, handsomer, every day. Your trip to the Eastern Shore last spring
+did you no end of good,” and the young attorney crooked his long neck
+and elevated his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth in the effort to
+give to his sinuous body a semblance of mirth.
+
+“Thank you, Pawson,” bowed St. George, graciously. “You are really
+most kind, but that is because you are stone blind. My shirt is full of
+holes, and it is quite likely I shall have to stand all the evening
+for fear of splitting the knees of my breeches. Come--out with it”--he
+laughed--“there is something you have to tell me or you would not be
+waiting for me here at this hour in the cold hall.”
+
+Pawson smiled faintly, then his eyebrows lost their identity in some
+well-defined wrinkles in his forehead.
+
+“I have, sir, a most unpleasant thing to tell you--a very unpleasant
+thing. When I tried this morning for a few days' grace on that last
+overdue payment, the agent informed me, to my great surprise, that Mr.
+John Gorsuch had bought the mortgage and would thereafter collect the
+interest in person. I am not sure, of course, but I am afraid Colonel
+Rutter is behind the purchase. If he is we must be prepared to face the
+worst should he still feel toward you as he did when you and he”--and he
+jerked his thumb meaningly in the direction of the dining-room--“had it
+out--in there.”
+
+St. George compressed his lips. “And so Rutter holds the big end of the
+whip after all, does he?” he exclaimed with some heat. “He will find the
+skin on my back not a very valuable asset, but he is welcome to it. He
+has about everything else.”
+
+“But I'd rather pay it somehow if we could,” rejoined Pawson in a
+furtive way--as if he had something up his sleeve he dare not spring
+upon him.
+
+“Yes--of course you would,” retorted St. George with a cynical laugh,
+slipping on his gloves. “Pay it?--of course pay it. Pay everything and
+everybody! What do you think I'd bring at auction, Pawson? I'm white,
+you know, and so I can't be sold on the block--but the doctors might
+offer you a trifle for cutting-up purposes. Bah! Hand me my coat, Todd.”
+
+A deprecatory smile flitted across the long, thin face of the attorney.
+He saw that St. George was in no mood for serious things, and yet
+something must be done; certainly before the arrival of Gorsuch himself,
+who was known to be an exact man of business and who would have his
+rights, no matter who suffered.
+
+“I had a little plan, sir--but you might not fall in with it. It would,
+perhaps, be only temporary, but it is all I can think of. I had an
+applicant this morning--in fact it came within an hour after I had heard
+the news. It seemed almost providential, sir.”
+
+St. George was facing the door, ready to leave the house, his shoulders
+still bent forward so that Todd could adjust his heavy cloak the better,
+when for the first time the anxious tone in Pawson's voice caught his
+attention. As the words fell from the attorney's lips he straightened,
+and Todd stepped back, the garment still in the darky's hands.
+
+“An applicant for what?” he inquired in a graver tone. He was not
+surprised--nothing surprised him in these days--he was only curious.
+
+“For the rooms you occupy. I can get enough for them, sir, not only to
+clear up the back interest, but to keep the mortgage alive and--”
+
+St. George's face paled as the full meaning of Pawson's proposal dawned
+in his mind. That was the last thing he had expected.
+
+“Turn me into the street, eh?” There was a note of pained surprise in
+his voice.
+
+“I don't want you to put it that way, sir.” His heart really bled for
+him--it was all he could do to control himself.
+
+“How the devil else can I put it?”
+
+“Well, I thought you might want to do a little shooting, sir.”
+
+“Shooting! What with? One of Gadgem's guns? Hire it of him, eh, and
+steal the powder and shot!” he cried savagely.
+
+“Yes--if you saw fit, sir. Gadgem, I am sure, would be most willing, and
+you can always get plenty of ammunition. Anyway, you might pass a few
+months with your kinsfolk on the Eastern Shore, whether you hunted or
+not; it did you so much good before. The winter here is always wearing,
+sloppy and wet. I've heard you say so repeatedly.” He had not taken his
+eyes from his face; he knew this was St. George's final stage, and he
+knew too that he would never again enter the home he loved; but this
+last he could not tell him outright. He would rather have cut his right
+hand off than tell him at all. Being even the humblest instrument in the
+exiling of a man like St. George Wilmot Temple was in itself a torture.
+
+“And when do you want me to quit?” he said calmly. “I suppose I can
+evacuate like an officer and a gentleman and carry my side-arms with
+me--my father's cane, for instance, that I can neither sell nor pawn,
+and a case of razors which are past sharpening?” and his smile broadened
+as the humor of the thing stole over him.
+
+“Well, sir, it ought to be done,” continued Pawson in his most serious
+tone, ignoring the sacrifice--(there was nothing funny in the situation
+to the attorney)--“well--I should say--right away. To-morrow, perhaps.
+This news of Gorsuch has come very sudden, you know. If I can show him
+that the new tenant has moved in already he might wait until his first
+month's rent was paid. You see that--”
+
+“Oh, yes, Pawson, I see--see it all clear as day,” interrupted St.
+George--“have been seeing it for some months past, although neither
+you nor Gadgem seem to have been aware of that fact.” This came with so
+grave a tone that Pawson raised his eyes inquiringly. “And who is this
+man,” Temple went on, “who wants to step into my shoes? Be sure you
+tell him they are half-soled,” and he held up one boot. He might want
+to dance or hunt in them--and his toes would be out the first thing he
+knew.”
+
+“He is Mr. Gorsuch's attorney, sir, a Mr. Fogbin,” Pawson answered,
+omitting any reference to the boots and still concerned over the gravity
+of the situation. “He did some work once for Colonel Rutter, and that's
+how Gorsuch got hold of him. That's why I suspect the colonel. This
+would make the interest sure, you see--rather a sly game, is it not,
+sir? One I did not expect.”
+
+St. George pondered for a moment, and his eye fell on his servant.
+
+“And what will I do with Todd?”
+
+The darky's eyes had been rolling round in his head as the talk
+continued, Pawson, knowing how leaky he was, having told him nothing of
+the impending calamity for fear he would break it to his master in the
+wrong way.
+
+“I should say take him with you,” came the positive answer.
+
+“Take him with me! You didn't think I would be separated from him, did
+you?” cried St. George, indignantly, the first note of positive anger he
+had yet shown.
+
+“I didn't think anything about it, sir,” and he looked at Todd
+apologetically.
+
+“Well, after this please remember, Mr. Pawson, that where I go Todd
+goes.”
+
+The darky leaned forward as if to seize St. George's hand; his eyes
+filled and his lips began to tremble. He would rather have died than
+have left his master.
+
+St. George walked to the door, threw it open, and stood for an instant,
+his eyes fixed on the bare trees in the park. He turned and faced the
+two again:
+
+“Todd!”
+
+“Yes, Marse George--” Two hot ragged tears still lingered on the darky's
+eyelids.
+
+“To-day is Monday, is it not?--and to-morrow is boat day?”
+
+“Yes, Marse George,” came the trembling answer.
+
+“All right, Pawson, I'll go. Let Talbot Rutter have the rest--he's
+welcome to it. Now for my cloak, Todd--so--and my neckerchief and cane.
+Thank you very much, Pawson. You have been very kind about it all, and
+I know quite well what it has cost you to tell me this. You can't
+help--neither can I--neither, for that matter, can Gorsuch--nor is
+it his fault. It is Rutter's, and he will one day get his reckoning.
+Good-night--don't sit up too late. I am going to Mr. Horn's to spend
+the evening. Walk along with me through the Park, Todd, so I can talk
+to you. And, Todd,” he continued when they had entered the path and were
+bending their steps to the Horn house, “I want you to gather together
+to-morrow what are left of my clothes and pack them in one of those
+hair trunks upstairs--and your own things in another. Never mind about
+waiting for the wash. I'm going down to Aunt Jemima's myself in the
+morning and will fix it so she can send the rest to me later on. I owe
+her a small balance and must see her once more before I leave. Now go
+home and get to bed; you have been losing too much sleep of late.”
+
+And yet he was not cast down, nor did his courage fail him. Long before
+the darky's obedient figure had disappeared his natural buoyancy had
+again asserted itself--or perhaps the philosophy which always sustains a
+true gentleman in his hour of need had come to his assistance. He fully
+realized what this last cowardly blow meant. One after another his
+several belongings had vanished: his priceless family heirlooms; his
+dogs; and now the home of his ancestors. He was even denied further
+shelter within its walls. But there were no regrets; his conscience
+still sustained him; he would live it all over again. In his
+determination to keep to his standards he had tried to stop a freshet
+with a shovelful of clay; that was all. It was a foolhardy attempt, no
+doubt, but he would have been heartily ashamed of himself if he had not
+made the effort. Wesley, of course, was not a very exciting place
+in which to spend the winter, but it was better than being under
+obligations to Talbot Rutter; and then he could doubtless earn enough at
+the law to pay his board--at least he would try.
+
+He had reached the end of the walk and had already caught the glow of
+the overhead lantern in the hall of the Horn mansion lighting up the
+varied costumes of the guests as Malachi swung back the front door,
+revealing the girls in their pink and white nubias, the gallants in long
+cloaks with scarlet linings, the older men in mufflers, and the mothers
+and grandmothers in silk hoods. There was no question of Richard's
+popularity.
+
+“Clar to goodness, Marse George, you is a sight for sore eyes,” cried
+Malachi, unhooking the clasp of the velvet collar and helping him off
+with his cloak. “I ain't never seen ye looking spryer! Yes, sah, Marse
+Richard's inside and he'll be mighty glad ye come. Yes--jedge--jes's
+soon as I--Dat's it, mistis--I'll take dat shawl--No, sah, Marse Richard
+ain't begun yit. Dis way, ladies,” and so it had gone on since the
+opening rat-a-tat-tat on the old brass knocker had announced the arrival
+of the first guest.
+
+Nor was there any question that everybody who could by any possibility
+have availed themselves of Richard's invitation had put in an
+appearance. Most of the men from the club known to these pages were
+present, together with their wives and children--those who were old
+enough to sit up late; and Nathan Gill, without his flute this time, but
+with ears wide open--he was beginning to get gray, was Nathan, although
+he wouldn't admit it; and Miss Virginia Clendenning in high waist and
+voluminous skirts, fluffy side curls, and a new gold chain for her
+eyeglasses--gold rims, too, of course--not to mention the Murdochs,
+Stirlings, Gatchells, Captain Warfield and his daughter, Bowdoin, and
+Purviance. They were all there; everybody, in fact, who could squeeze
+inside the drawing-room; while those who couldn't filled the hall and
+even the stairs--wherever Richard's voice could be heard.
+
+St. George edged into the packed room, swept his glance over the throng,
+and made his way through the laughing groups, greeting every one right
+and left, old and young, as he moved--a kiss here on the upturned cheek
+of some pretty girl whom he had carried in his arms when a baby; a
+caressing pat of approbation on some young gallant's shoulder; a bend
+of the head in respectful homage to those he knew but slightly--the
+Baroness de Trobiand, Mrs. Cheston's friend, being one of them; a hearty
+hand held out to the men who had been away for the summer--interrupted
+now and then by some such sally from a young bride as--“Oh, you mean
+Uncle George! No--I'm not going to love you any more! You promised you
+would come to my party and you didn't, and my cotillon was all spoiled!”
+ or a--“Why, Temple, you dear man!-I'm so glad to see you! Don't forget
+my dinner on Thursday. The Secretary is coming and I want you to
+sit between him and Lord Atherton”--a sort of triumphal procession,
+really--until he reached the end of the room and stood at Kate's side.
+
+“Well, sweetheart!” he cried gayly, caressing her soft hand before his
+fingers closed over it. Then his face hardened. “Ah, Mr. Willits! So
+you, too, must come under the spell of Mr. Horn's voice,” and without
+waiting for a reply continued as if nothing had interrupted the joy of
+his greeting. “You should sit down somewhere, my dear Kate--get as near
+to Richard as you can, so you can watch his face--that's the best part
+of it. And I should advise you, too, Mr. Willits, to miss none of his
+words--it will be something you will remember all your life.”
+
+Kate looked up in his face with a satisfied smile. She was more than
+glad that her Uncle George was so gracious to her escort, especially
+to-night when he was to meet a good many people for the first time.
+
+“I'll take the stool, then, dear Uncle George,” she answered with a
+merry laugh. “Go get it, please, Mr. Willits--the one under the sofa.”
+ Then, with a toss of her head and a coquettish smile at St. George:
+“What a gadabout you are; do you know I've been three times to see
+you, and not a soul in your house and the front door wide open, and
+everything done up in curl papers as if you were going to move away for
+good and all and never coming back? And do you know that you haven't
+been near me for a whole week? What do you mean by breaking my heart?
+Thank you, Mr. Willits; put the stool right here, so I can look up
+into Mr. Horn's eyes as Uncle George wants me to. I've known the
+time, sir”--and she arched her brows at St. George--“when you would
+be delighted to have me look my prettiest at you, but now before I am
+halfway across the park you slip out of the basement door to avoid me
+and--No!--no--no apologies--you are just tired of me!”
+
+St. George laughed gayly in return, his palms flattened against each
+other and held out in supplication; but he made no defence. He was
+studying the couple, his mind on the bearing and manner of the young
+man toward the woman he was pursuing so relentlessly. He saw that he had
+completely regained his health, his clear eyes and ruddy skin and the
+spring with which he moved denoting a man in perfect physical condition.
+He discovered, too, that he was extremely well dressed and his costume
+all that it should be--especially the plum-colored coat, which fitted
+his shoulders to perfection; his linen of the whitest and finest, each
+ruffle in flutes; the waist-coat embroidered in silk; the pumps of
+the proper shape and the stockings all that could be desired--except
+perhaps--and a grim smile crossed his face--that the silk scarf was a
+shade out of key with the prevailing color of his make-up, particularly
+his hair; but, then, that was to be expected of a man who had a slight
+flaw in his ancestry. He wondered if she had noticed it and studied her
+face for an answer. No! She had not noticed it. In fact there were very
+many things she was overlooking in these last days of his wooing, he
+thought to himself.
+
+Suddenly he became occupied with Kate's beauty. He thought he had never
+seen her so bewitching or in such good spirits. From his six feet and
+an inch of vantage his eyes followed her sloping shoulders and tapering
+arms and rested on her laughing, happy face--rose-colored in the soft
+light of the candles--a film of lace looped at her elbows, her wonderful
+hair caught in a coil at the back: not the prevailing fashion but one
+most becoming to her. What had not this admixture of Scotch and Virginia
+blood--this intermingling of robust independence with the gentle,
+yielding feminine qualities of the Southern-born woman--done for this
+girl?
+
+Richard clapped his hands to attract attention, and advancing a step in
+front of the big easy-chair which Malachi had just pulled out for him,
+raised his fingers to command silence.
+
+All eyes were instantly turned his way. Alert and magnetic, dignified
+and charming, he stood in the full glow of the overhead chandelier,
+its light falling upon his snuff-brown coat with its brass buttons,
+pale-yellow waistcoat, and the fluff of white silk about his throat--his
+grave, thoughtful face turned toward Kate as his nearest guest, his
+glance sweeping the crowded room as if to be sure that everybody was
+at ease; Malachi close behind awaiting his master's orders to further
+adjust the chair and reading-lamp.
+
+In the interim of the hush Kate had settled herself at Richard's feet
+on the low stool that Willits had brought, the young man standing behind
+her, the two making a picture that attracted general attention; some
+wondering at her choice, while others were outspoken in their admiration
+of the pair who seemed so wonderfully suited to each other.
+
+“I have a rare story,” Richard began “to read to you to-night, my good
+friends, one you will never forget; one, indeed, which I am sure the
+world at large will never forget. I shall read it as best I can, begging
+your indulgence especially in rendering the dialect parts, which, if
+badly done, often mar both the pathos and humor of the text.” Here he
+settled himself in his chair and picked up the small volume, Malachi,
+now that his service was over, tiptoeing out to his place in the hall so
+as to be ready for belated arrivals.
+
+The room grew silent. Even Mrs. Cheston, who rarely ceased talking
+when she had anything to say--and she generally did have something to
+say--folded her hands in her lap and settled herself in her arm-chair,
+her whole attention fastened on the reader. St. George, who had been
+talking to her, moved up a chair so he could watch Kate's face the
+better.
+
+Again Richard raised his voice:
+
+“The time is of the present, and the scene is laid in one of those small
+towns outside London. I shall read the whole story, omitting no word of
+the text, for only then will you fully grasp the beauty of the author's
+style.”
+
+He began in low, clear tones reciting the contest between the hum of
+the kettle and the chirp of the cricket; the music of his voice
+lending added charm to the dual song. Then there followed in constantly
+increasing intensity the happy home life of bewitching Dot Perrybingle
+and her matter-of-fact husband, John the Carrier, with sleepy Tilly
+Slowboy and the Baby to fill out the picture; the gradual unfolding of
+the events that led up to the cruel marriage about to take place between
+old Tackleton, the mean toy merchant, and sweet May Fielding, in love
+with the sailor boy, Edward, lost at sea; the finding of the mysterious
+deaf old man by John the Carrier, and the bringing him home in his cart
+to Dot, who kept him all night because his friends had not called for
+him; the rapid growth of a love affair between Dot and this old man, who
+turned out to be a handsome young fellow; the heart-rending discovery by
+John, through the spying of Tackleton, that Dot was untrue to him,
+she meeting the man clandestinely and adjusting the disguise for him,
+laughing all the while at the ruse she was helping him to play; the
+grief of John when he realized the truth, he sitting all night alone by
+the fire trying to make up his mind whether he would creep upstairs
+and murder the villain who had stolen the heart of his little Dot, or
+forgive her because he was so much older than she and it was, therefore,
+natural for her to love a younger man; and finally the preparations at
+the church, where Tackleton was to wed the beautiful May Fielding, who,
+broken-hearted over the death of her sailor boy, had at last succumbed
+to her mother's wishes and consented to join Tackleton at the altar.
+
+For an hour Richard's well-modulated, full-toned voice rolled on, the
+circle drawing closer and closer with their ears and hearts, as the
+characters, one after another, became real and alive under the
+reader's magical rendering. Dot Perrybingle's cheery, laughing
+accents; Tackleton's sharp, rasping tones; John the Carrier's simple,
+straightforward utterances and the soft, timid cadence of old Caleb, the
+toy maker--(drowned Edward's father)--and his blind daughter Bertha were
+recognized as soon as the reader voiced their speech. So thrilling was
+the story of their several joys and sorrows that Kate, unconscious of
+her surroundings, had slipped from her low stool, and with the weight of
+her body resting on her knees, sat searching Richard's face, the better
+to catch every word that fell from his lips.
+
+To heighten the effect of what was the most dramatic part of the
+story--the return of the wedding party to the Carrier's house, where
+Dot, Caleb, and his blind daughter awaited them--Richard paused for a
+moment as if to rest his voice--the room the while deathly still, the
+loosening of a pent-up breath now and then showing how tense was the
+emotion. Then he went on:
+
+“Are those wheels upon the road, Bertha?”, cried Dot. “You've a quick
+ear, Bertha--And now you hear them stopping at the garden gate! And now
+you hear a step outside the door--the same step, Bertha, is it not--And
+now--”
+
+Dot uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight, and running up to
+Caleb put her hand upon his eyes, as a young man rushed into the room,
+and, flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping down upon them.
+
+“Is it over?” cried Dot.
+
+“Yes!”
+
+“Happily over?”
+
+“Yes!”
+
+“Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you ever hear the like of
+it before?” cried Dot.
+
+“If my boy Edward in the Golden South Americas was alive--” cried Caleb,
+trembling.
+
+“He is alive!” shrieked Dot, removing her hands from his eyes and
+clapping them in ecstasy; “look at him! See where he stands before you,
+healthy and strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear, living, loving
+brother, Bertha!”
+
+All honor to the little creature for her transports! All honor to her
+tears and laughter, when the three were locked in one another's
+arms! All honor to the heartiness with which she met the sunburnt,
+sailor-fellow, with his dark, streaming hair, halfway, and never turned
+her rosy little mouth aside, but suffered him to kiss it freely, and to
+press her to his bounding heart!
+
+“Now tell him (John) all, Edward,” sobbed Dot, “and don't spare me, for
+nothing shall make me spare myself in his eyes ever again.”
+
+“I was the man,” said Edward.
+
+“And you could steal disguised into the home of your old friend,”
+ rejoined the carrier...
+
+“But I had a passion for her.”
+
+“You!”
+
+“I had,” rejoined the other, “and she returned it--I heard twenty miles
+away that she was false to me--I had no mind to reproach her but to see
+for myself.”
+
+Once more Richard's voice faltered, and again it rang clear, this time
+in Dot's tones:
+
+“But when she knew that Edward was alive, John, and had come back--and
+when she--that's me, John--told him all--and how his sweetheart had
+believed him to be dead, and how she had been over-persuaded by her
+mother into a marriage--and when she--that's me again, John--told him
+they were not married, though close upon it--and when he went nearly
+mad for joy to hear it--then she--that's me again--said she would go
+and sound his sweetheart--and she did--and they were married an hour
+ago!--John, an hour ago! And here's the bride! And Gruff and Tackleton
+may die a bachelor! And I'm a happy little woman, May, God bless you!”
+
+Little woman, how she sobbed! John Perrybingle would have caught her in
+his arms. But no; she wouldn't let him.
+
+“Don't love me yet, please, John! Not for a long time yet! No--keep
+there, please, John! When I laugh at you, as I sometimes do, John, and
+call you clumsy, and a dear old goose, and names of that sort, it's
+because I love you, John, so well. And when I speak of people being
+middle-aged and steady, John, and pretend that we are a humdrum couple,
+going on in a jog-trot sort of way, it's only because I'm such a silly
+little thing, John, that I like, sometimes, to act a kind of play with
+Baby, and all that, and make believe.”
+
+She saw that he was coming, and stopped him again. But she was very
+nearly too late.
+
+“No, don't love me for another minute or two, if you please, John! When
+I first came home here I was half afraid I mighn't learn to love you
+every bit as well as I hoped and prayed I might--being so very young,
+John. But, dear John, every day and hour I love you more and more. And
+if I could have loved you better than I do, the noble words I heard you
+say this morning would have made me. But I can't. All the affection that
+I had (it was a great deal, John) I gave you, as you well deserve, long,
+long ago, and I have no more left to give. Now, my dear husband, take
+me to your heart again! That's my home, John; and never, never think of
+sending me to any other.”
+
+Richard Stopped and picking up a glass from the table moistened his
+lips. The silence continued. Down more than one face the tears were
+trickling, as they have trickled down millions of faces since. Kate had
+crept imperceptibly nearer until her hands could have touched Richard's
+knees. When Willits bent over her with a whispered comment a slight
+shiver ran through her, but she neither answered nor turned her head. It
+was only when Richard's voice finally ceased with the loud chirp of the
+cricket at the close of the beloved story, and St. George had helped her
+to her feet, that she seemed to awake to a sense of where she was. Even
+then she looked about her in a dazed way, as if she feared some one had
+been probing her heart--hanging back till the others had showered their
+congratulations on the reader. Then leaning forward she placed her hands
+in Richard's as if to steady herself, and with a sigh that seemed to
+come from the depths of her nature bent her head and kissed him softly
+on the cheek.
+
+When the eggnog was being served and the guests were broken up into
+knots and groups, all discussing the beauty of the reading, she suddenly
+left Willits, who had followed her every move as if he had a prior right
+to her person, and going up to St. George, led him out of the room to
+one of the sofas in Richard's study, her lips quivering, the undried
+tears still trembling on her eyelids. She did not release his hand as
+they took their seats. Her fingers closed only the tighter, as if she
+feared he would slip from her grasp.
+
+“It was all so beautiful and so terrible, Uncle George,” she moaned at
+last--“and all so true. Such awful mistakes are made and then it is too
+late. And nobody understands--nobody--nobody!” She paused, as if the
+mere utterance pained her, and then to St. George's amazement asked
+abruptly “Is there nothing yet from Harry?”
+
+St. George looked at her keenly, wondering whether he had caught the
+words aright. It had been months since Harry's name had crossed her
+lips.
+
+“No, nothing,” he answered simply, trying to fathom her purpose and
+completely at sea as to her real motive--“not for some months. Not since
+he left the ship.”
+
+“And do you think he is in any danger?” She had released his hand, and
+with her fingers resting on the sleeve of his coat sat looking into his
+eyes as if to read their meaning.
+
+“I don't know,” he replied in a non-committal tone, still trying to
+understand her purpose. “He meant then to go to the mountains, so he
+wrote his mother. This may account for our not hearing. Why do you ask?
+Have you had any news of him yourself?” he added, studying her face for
+some solution of her strange attitude.
+
+She sank back on the cushions. “No, he never writes to me.” Then, as
+if some new train of thought had forced its way into her mind, she
+exclaimed suddenly: “What mountains?”
+
+“Some range back of Rio, if I remember rightly. He said he--”
+
+“Rio! But there is yellow fever at Rio!” she cried, with a start as she
+sat erect in her seat, the pupils of her eyes grown to twice their size.
+“Father lost half of one of his crews at Rio. He heard so to-day. It
+would be dreadful for--for--his mother--if anything should happen to
+him.”
+
+Again St. George scrutinized her face, trying to probe deep down in her
+heart. Had she, after all, some affection left for this boy lover--and
+her future husband within hearing distance! No! This was not his
+Kate--he understood it all now. It was the spell of the story that still
+held her. Richard's voice had upset her, as it had done half the room.
+
+“Yes, it is dreadful for everybody,” he added. And then, in a
+perfunctory manner, as being perhaps the best way to lead the
+conversation into other channels, added: “And the suspense will be worse
+now--for me at any rate--for I, too, am going away where letters reach
+me but seldom.”
+
+Her hand closed convulsively over his.
+
+“You going away! YOU!” she cried in a half-frightened tone. “Oh, please
+don't, Uncle George! Oh!--I don't want you away from me! Why must you
+go? Oh, no! Not now--not now!”
+
+Her distress was so marked and her voice so pleading that he was about
+to tell her the whole story, even to that of the shifts he had been put
+to to get food for himself and Todd, when he caught sight of Willits
+making his way through the throng to where they sat. His lips closed
+tight. This man would always be a barrier between him and the girl he
+had loved ever since her babyhood.
+
+“Well, my dear Kate,” he replied calmly, his eyes still on Willits, who
+in approaching from the other room had been detained by a guest, “you
+see I must go. Mr. Pawson wants me out of the way while he fixes up some
+of my accounts, and so he suggested that I go back to Wesley for a few
+months.” He paused for an instant and, still keeping his eye on Willets,
+added: “And now one thing more, my dear Kate, before your escort claims
+you”--here his voice sank to a whisper--“promise me that if Harry writes
+to you you will send him a kind, friendly letter in return. It can do
+you no harm now, nor would Harry misunderstand it--your wedding is so
+near. A letter would greatly cheer him in his loneliness.”
+
+“But he won't write!” she exclaimed with some bitterness--she had
+not yet noticed Willits's approach--“he'll never write or speak to me
+again.”
+
+“But you will if he does?” pleaded St. George, the thought of his boy's
+loneliness overmastering every other feeling.
+
+“But he won't, I tell you--never--NEVER!”
+
+“But if he should, my child? If--”
+
+He stopped and raised his head. Willits stood gazing down at them,
+searching St. George's face, as if to learn the meaning of the
+conference: he knew that he did not favor his suit.
+
+Kate looked up and her face flushed.
+
+“Yes--in one minute, Mr. Willits,” and without a word of any kind to
+St. George she rose from the sofa and with her arm in Willits's left the
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+
+One winter evening some weeks after St. George's departure, Pawson sat
+before a smouldering fire in Temple's front room, reading by the
+light of a low lamp. He had rearranged the furniture--what was left of
+it--both in this and the adjoining room, in the expectation that Fogbin
+(Gorsuch's attorney) would move in, but so far he had not appeared, nor
+had any word come from either Gorsuch or Colonel Rutter; nor had any
+one either written or called upon him in regard to the overdue payment;
+neither had any legal papers been served.
+
+This prolonged and ominous silence disturbed him; so much so that he had
+made it a point to be as much in his office as possible should his enemy
+spring any unexpected trap.
+
+It was, therefore, with some misgivings that he answered a quick,
+impatient rap on his front door at the unusual hour of ten o'clock. If
+it were Fogbin he had everything ready for his comfort; if it were any
+one else he would meet him as best he could: no legal papers, at any
+rate, could be served at that hour.
+
+He swung back the door and a full-bearded, tightly-knit, well-built man
+in rough clothes stepped in. In the dim light of the overhead lamp he
+caught the flash of a pair of determined eyes set in a strong, forceful
+face.
+
+“I want Mr. Temple,” said the man, who had now removed his cap and stood
+looking about him, as if making an inventory of the scanty furniture.
+
+“He is not here,” replied Pawson, rummaging the intruder's face for some
+clew to his identity and purpose in calling at so late an hour.
+
+“Are you sure?” There was doubt as well as marked surprise in the man's
+tone. He evidently did not believe a word of the statement.
+
+“Very sure,” rejoined the attorney in a more positive tone, his eyes
+still on the stranger. “He left town some weeks ago.”
+
+The intruder turned sharply, and with a brisk inquisitive movement
+strode past him and pushed open the dining-room door. There he stood
+for a moment, his eyes roaming over the meagre appointments of the
+interior--the sideboard, bare of everything but a pitcher and some
+tumblers--the old mahogany table littered with law books and papers--the
+mantel stripped of its clock and candelabras. Then he stepped inside,
+and without explanation of any kind, crossed the room, opened the door
+of St. George's bedroom, and swept a comprehensive glance around the
+despoiled interior. Once he stopped and peered into the gloom as if
+expecting to find the object of his search concealed in its shadows.
+
+“What has happened here?” he demanded in a voice which plainly showed
+his disappointment.
+
+“Do you mean what has become of the rest of the furniture?” asked the
+attorney in reply, gaining time to decide upon his course.
+
+“Yes, who is responsible for this business?” he exclaimed angrily. “Has
+it been done during his absence?”
+
+Pawson hesitated. That the intruder was one of Gorsuch's men, and that
+he had been sent in advance on an errand of investigation, was no
+longer to be doubted. He, however, did not want to add any fuel to his
+increasing heat, so he answered simply:
+
+“Mr. Temple got caught in the Patapsco failure and it went pretty hard
+with him, and so what he didn't actually need he sold.”
+
+The man gave a start, his features hardening; but whether of surprise or
+dissatisfaction Pawson could not tell.
+
+“And when it was all gone he went away--is that what you mean?” This
+came in a softened tone.
+
+“Yes--that seems to be the size of it. I suppose you come
+about--some”--again he hesitated, not knowing exactly where the man
+stood--“about some money due you?--Am I right?”
+
+“No, I came to see Mr. Temple, and I must see him, and at once. How long
+will he be gone?”
+
+“All winter--perhaps longer.” The attorney had begun to breathe again.
+The situation might not be as serious as he had supposed. If he wanted
+to see Mr. Temple himself, and no one else would do, there was still
+chance of delay in the wiping out of the property.
+
+Again the man's eyes roamed over the room, the bareness of which seemed
+still to impress him. Then he asked simply: “Where will a letter reach
+him?”
+
+“I can't say exactly. I thought he had gone to Virginia--but he doesn't
+answer any of my communications.”
+
+A look of suspicion crept into the intruder's eyes.
+
+“You're not trying to deceive me, are you? It is very important that I
+should see Mr. Temple, and at once.” Then his manner altered. “You've
+forgotten me, Mr. Pawson, but I have not forgotten you--my name is
+Rutter. I lived here with Mr. Temple before I went to sea, three years
+ago. I am just home--I left the ship an hour ago. I'll sit down if you
+don't mind--I've still got my sea-legs on and am a little wobbly.”
+
+Pawson twisted his thin body and bent his neck, his eyes glued to the
+speaker's face. There was not a trace of young Harry in the features.
+
+“Well, you don't look like him,” he replied incredulously--“he was
+slender--not half your size, and--”
+
+“Yes--I don't blame you. I am a good deal heavier; may be too a beard
+makes some change in a man's face. But you don't really doubt me, do
+you? Have you forgotten the bills that man Gadgem brought in?--the five
+hundred dollars due Slater, and the horse Hampson sold me--the one I
+shot?” and one of his old musical laughs rose to his lips.
+
+Pawson sprang forward and seized the intruder's hand. He would recognize
+that laugh among a thousand:
+
+“Yes--I know you now! It's all come back to me,” he cried joyously.
+“But you gave me a terrible start, Mr. Rutter. I thought you had come to
+clear up what was left. Oh!--but I AM glad you are back. Your uncle--you
+always called him so, I remember--your uncle has had an awful hard time
+of it--had to sell most of his things--terrible--terrible! And then,
+too, he has grieved so over you--asking me, sometimes two or three times
+a day, for letters from you--asking me questions and worrying over your
+not coming and not answering. Oh, this is fine. Now may be we can save
+the situation. You don't mind my shaking your hand again, do you? It's
+so good to know there is somebody who can help. I have been all alone so
+far except Gadgem--who has been a treasure. You remember him. Why didn't
+you let Mr. Temple know you were coming?”
+
+“I couldn't. I have been up in the mountains of Brazil, and coming home
+went ashore--got wrecked. These clothes I bought from a sailor,” and he
+opened his rough jacket the wider.
+
+“Yes--that's exactly what I heard him say--that's what he thought--that
+is, that you were where you couldn't write, although I never heard him
+say anything about shipwreck. I remember his telling Mr. Willits and
+Miss Seymour that same thing the morning he left--that you couldn't
+write. They came to see him off.”
+
+Harry edged his chair nearer the fireplace and propped one shoe on the
+fender as if to dry it, although the night was fair. The mention of
+Kate's and her suitor's names had sent the blood to his head and he was
+using the subterfuge in the effort to regain control of himself before
+Pawson should read all his secrets.
+
+Shifting his body he rested his head on his hand, the light of the lamp
+bringing into clearer relief his fresh, healthy skin, finely modelled
+nose, and wide brow, the brown hair, clipped close to his head, still
+holding its glossy sheen. For some seconds he did not speak: the low
+song of the fire seemed to absorb him. Now and then Pawson, who was
+watching him intently, heard him strangle a rebellious sigh, as if
+some old memory were troubling him. His hand dropped and with a quick
+movement he faced his companion again.
+
+“I have been away a long time, Mr. Pawson,” he said in a thoughtful
+tone. “For three months--four now--I have had no letters from anybody.
+It was my fault partly, but let that go. I want you to answer some
+questions, and I want you to tell me the truth--all the truth. I haven't
+any use for any other kind of man--do you understand? Is my mother
+alive?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And Alec? Is he all right?”
+
+Pawson nodded.
+
+“And my uncle? Is he ruined?--so badly ruined that he is suffering? Tell
+me.” There was a peculiar pathos in his tone--so much so that Pawson,
+who had been standing, settled into a chair beside him that his answers
+might, if possible, be the more intimate and sympathetic.
+
+“I'm afraid he is. The only hope is the postponement in some way of the
+foreclosure of the mortgage on this house until times get better. It
+wouldn't bring its face value to-day.”
+
+Harry caught his breath: “My God!--you don't tell me so! Poor Uncle
+George--so fine and splendid--so good to everybody, and he has come to
+this! And about this mortgage--who owns it?”
+
+“Mr. Gorsuch, I understand, owns it now: he bought it of the Tyson
+estate.”
+
+“You mean John Gorsuch--my father's man of business?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“And was there nothing left?--no money coming in from anywhere?”
+
+Pawson shook his head: “We collected all that some time ago--it came
+from some old ground rents.”
+
+“And how has he lived since?” He wanted to hear it all; he could help
+better if he knew how far down the ladder to begin.
+
+“From hand to mouth, really.” And then there followed his own and
+Gadgem's efforts to keep the wolf from the door; the sale of the guns,
+saddles, and furniture; the wrench over the Castullux cup--and what
+a godsend it was that Kirk got such a good price for it--down to the
+parting with the last article that either or both of them could sell or
+pawn, including his four splendid setters.
+
+As the sad story fell from the attorney's sympathetic lips Harry would
+now and then cover his face with his hands in the effort to hide the
+tears. He knew that the ruin was now complete. He knew, too, that he had
+been the cause of it. Then his thoughts reverted to the old regime and
+its comforts: those which his uncle had shared with him so generously.
+
+“And what has become of my uncle's servants?” he asked--“his cook, Aunt
+Jemima, and his body-servant, Todd?”
+
+“I don't know what has become of the cook, but he took Todd with him.”
+
+Harry heaved a sigh of relief. If Todd was with him life would still
+be made bearable for his uncle. Perhaps, after all, a winter with Tom
+Coston was the wisest thing he could have done.
+
+One other question now trembled on his lips. It was one he felt he had
+no right to ask--not of Pawson--but it was his only opportunity, and
+he must know the truth if he was to carry out the other plans he had
+in view the day he dropped everything and came home without warning. At
+last he asked casually:
+
+“Do you know whether my father returned to Uncle George the money he
+paid out for me?” Not that it was important--more as if he wanted to be
+posted on current events.
+
+“He tried, but Mr. Temple wouldn't take it. I had the matter in hand,
+and know. This was some three years ago. He has never offered it
+since--not to my knowledge.”
+
+Harry's face lightened. Some trace of decency was still left in the
+Rutter blood! This money was in all honor owed by his father and might
+still become an asset if he and his uncle should ever become reconciled.
+
+“And can you tell me how they all are--out at Moorlands? Have you seen
+my father lately?”
+
+“Not your father, but I met your old servant, Alec, a few days ago.”
+
+“Alec!--dear old Alec! Tell me about him. And my mother--was she all
+right? What did Alec say, and how did the old man look?”
+
+“Yes; your mother was well. He said they were all well, except Colonel
+Rutter, whose eyes troubled him. Alec seemed pretty much the same--may
+be a little older.”
+
+Harry's mind began to wander. The room and his companion were forgotten.
+He was again at Moorlands, the old negro following him about, his dear
+mother sitting by his bed or kissing him goodnight.
+
+For an instant he sat gazing into the smouldering embers absorbed in
+his thoughts. Then as if some new vista had opened out before him he
+asked suddenly:
+
+“You don't know what he was doing in town, do you? Was my mother with
+him?”
+
+“No, he was alone. He had brought some things in for Mr. Seymour--some
+game or something, if I remember right. There's to be a wedding there
+soon, so I hear. Yes, now I think of it, it WAS game--some partridges,
+perhaps, your father had sent in. The old man asked about you--he always
+does. And now, Mr. Rutter, tell me about yourself--have you done well?”
+ He didn't think he had, judging from his general appearance, but he
+wanted to be sure in case St. George asked him.
+
+Harry settled in his chair, his broad shoulders filling the back. The
+news of Kate's wedding was what he had expected. Perhaps it was already
+over. He was glad, however, the information had come to him unsought.
+For an instant he made no reply to Pawson's inquiry, then he answered
+slowly: “Yes, and no. I have made a little money--not much--but
+some--not enough to pay Uncle George everything I owe him--not yet;
+another time I shall do better. I was down with fever for a while and
+that cost me a good deal of what I had saved. But I HAD to come back.
+I met a man who told me Uncle George was ruined; that he had left this
+house and that somebody had put a sign on it, I thought at first that
+this must refer to you and your old arrangement in the basement, until I
+questioned him closer. I knew how careless he had always been about his
+money transactions, and was afraid some one had taken advantage of him.
+That's why I was so upset when I came in a while ago: I thought they had
+stolen his furniture as well. The ship Mohican--one of the old Barkeley
+line--was sailing the day I reached the coast and I got aboard and
+worked my passage home. I learned to do that on my way out. I learned
+to wear a beard too. Not very becoming, is it?”--and a low, forced laugh
+escaped his lips. “But shaving is not easy aboard ship or in the mines.”
+
+Pawson made no reply. He had been studying his guest the closer while
+he was talking, his mind more on the man than on what he was saying.
+The old Harry, which the dim light of the hall and room had hidden, was
+slowly coming back to him:--the quick turn of the head; the way his lips
+quivered when he laughed; the exquisitely modelled nose and brow, and
+the way the hair grew on the temples. The tones of his voice, too, had
+the old musical ring. It was the same madcap, daredevil boy mellowed and
+strengthened by contact with the outside world. Next he scrutinized his
+hands, their backs bronzed and roughened by contact with the weather,
+and waited eagerly until some gesture opened the delicately turned
+fingers, exposing the white palms, and felt relieved and glad when
+he saw that they showed no rough usage. His glance rested on his
+well-turned thighs, slender waist, and broad, strong shoulders and
+arms--and then his eyes--so clear, and his skin so smooth and fresh--a
+clean soul in a clean body! What joy would be Temple's when he got his
+arms around this young fellow once more!
+
+The wanderer reached for his cap and pushed back his chair. For an
+instant he stood gazing into the smouldering coals as if he hated to
+leave their warmth, his brow clouded, his shoulders drawn back. He had
+all the information he wanted--all he had come in search of, although
+it was not exactly what he wished or what he had expected:--his uncle
+ruined and an exile; his father half blind and Kate's wedding expected
+any week. That was enough at least for one night.
+
+He stepped forward and grasped Pawson's hand, his well-knit, alert body
+in contrast to the loosely jointed, long-legged, young attorney.
+
+“I must thank you, Mr. Pawson,” he said in his old outspoken, hearty way
+“for your frankness, and I must also apologize for my apparent rudeness
+when I first entered your door; but, as I told you, I was so astounded
+and angry at what I saw that I hardly knew what I was doing. And now
+one thing more before I take my leave: if Mr. Temple does not want his
+present retreat known--and I gather from the mysterious way in which you
+have spoken that he does not--let me tell you that I do not want mine
+known either. Please do not say to any one that you have seen me, or
+answer any questions--not for a time, at least. Good-night!”
+
+With the closing of the front door behind him the exile came to a
+standstill on the top step and looked about him. Across the park--beyond
+the trees, close sheltered under the wide protecting roof, lay Kate. All
+the weary miles out and back had this picture been fixed in his mind.
+She was doubtless asleep as it was now past eleven o'clock: he would
+know by the lights. But even the sight of the roof that sheltered her
+would, in itself, be a comfort. It had been many long years since he had
+breathed the same air with her; slept under the same stars; walked where
+her feet had trodden. For some seconds he stood undecided. Should he
+return to the Sailors' House where he had left his few belongings and
+banish all thoughts of her from his mind now that his worst fears had
+been confirmed? or should he yield to the strain on his heart-strings?
+If she were asleep the whole house would be dark; if she were at some
+neighbor's and Mammy Henny was sitting up for her, the windows in the
+bedroom would be dark and the hall lamp still burning--he had watched it
+so often before and knew the signs.
+
+Drawing the collar of his rough peajacket close about his throat and
+crowding his cap to his ears, he descended the steps and with one of his
+quick, decided movements plunged into the park, now silent and deserted.
+
+As he neared the Seymour house he became conscious, from the glow
+of lights gleaming between the leafless branches of the trees, that
+something out of the common was going on inside. The house was ablaze
+from the basement to the roof, with every window-shade illumined.
+Outside the steps, and as far out as the curb, lounged groups of
+attendants, while in the side street, sheltered by the ghostly trees,
+there could be made out the wheels and hoods of carryalls and the glint
+of harness. Now and then the door would open and a bevy of muffled
+figures--the men in cloaks, the girls in nubias wound about their heads
+and shoulders--would pass out. The Seymours were evidently giving a
+ball, or was it--and the blood left his face and little chills ran loose
+through his hair--was it Kate's wedding night? Pawson had said that
+a marriage would soon take place, and in the immediate future. It was
+either this or an important function of some kind, and on a much more
+lavish scale than had been old Prim's custom in the days when he knew
+him. Then the contents of Alec's basket rose in his mind. That was why
+his father had sent the pheasants! Perhaps both he and his mother were
+inside!
+
+Sick at heart he turned on his heel and with quickened pace retraced his
+steps. He would not be a spy, and he could not he an eavesdropper. As
+the thought forced itself on his mind, the fear that he might meet some
+one whom he would know, or who would know him, overtook him. So great
+was his anxiety that it was only when he had left the park far behind
+him on his way back to the Sailors' House, that he regained his
+composure. He was prepared to face the truth, and all of it whatever it
+held in store for him; but he must first confront his father and learn
+just how he stood with him; then he would see his mother and Alec, and
+then he would find St. George: Kate must come last.
+
+The news that his father had offered to pay his debts--although he
+did not intend that that should relieve him in any way of his own
+responsibility to his uncle--kindled fresh hopes in his heart and buoyed
+him up. Now that his father had tried repeatedly to repair the wrong he
+had done it might only be necessary to throw himself on his knees before
+him and be taken back into his heart and arms. To see him, then, was his
+first duty and this he would begin to carry out in the morning. As to
+his meeting his mother and Alec--should he fail with his father--that
+must be undertaken with more care, for he could not place himself in the
+position of sneaking home and using the joy his return would bring them
+as a means to soften his father's heart. Yes, he would find his father
+first, then his mother and Alec. If his father received him the others
+would follow. If he was repulsed, he must seek out some other way.
+
+This over he would find St. George. He knew exactly where his uncle
+was, although he had not said so to Pawson. He was not at Coston's, nor
+anywhere in the vicinity of Wesley, but at Craddock, on the bay--a small
+country house some miles distant, where he and his dogs had often spent
+days and weeks during the ducking season. St. George had settled down
+there to rest and get away from his troubles; that was why he had not
+answered Pawson's letters.
+
+Striding along with his alert, springing step, he swung through the
+deserted and unguarded Marsh Market, picked his way between the piles of
+produce and market carts, and plunging down a narrow street leading to
+the wharf, halted before a door over which swung a lantern burning a
+green light. Here he entered.
+
+Although it was now near midnight, there were still eight or ten
+seafaring men in the room--several of them members of his own crew
+aboard the Mohican. Two were playing checkers, the others crowded about
+a square table where a game of cards was in progress; wavy lines of
+tobacco smoke floated beneath the dingy ceiling; at one end was a
+small bar where a man in a woollen shirt was filling some short, thick
+tumblers from an earthen jug. It was the ordinary sailors' retreat where
+the men put up before, between, and after their voyages.
+
+One of them at the card-table looked up from his game as Harry entered,
+and called out:
+
+“Man been lookin' for you--comin' back, he says. My trick! Hearts,
+wasn't it?” (this to his companions).
+
+“Do I know him?” asked Harry with a slight start, pausing on his way
+to his bedroom upstairs, where he had left his bag of clothes two hours
+before. Could he have been recognized and shadowed?
+
+“No--don't think so; he's a street vendor. Got some China silks to
+sell--carries his pack on his back and looks as if he'd took up a extry
+'ole in his belt. Hungry, I wouldn't wonder. Wanted to h'ist 'em fur
+a glass o' grog an' a night's lodgin', but Cap wouldn't let him--said
+you'd be back and might help him. Wasn't that it, Cap?”--this to the
+landlord, who nodded in reply.
+
+“How could _I_ help him?” asked Harry, selecting a tallow dip from a row
+on a shelf, but in a tone that implied his own doubt in the query, as
+well as his relief, now that the man was really a stranger.
+
+“Well, this is your port, so I 'ear. Some o' them high-flyers up 'round
+the park might lend a hand, may be, if you'd tip 'em a wink, or some o'
+their women folks might take a shine to 'em.”
+
+“Looked hungry, did you say?” Harry asked, lighting the dip at an oil
+lamp that swung near the bar.
+
+“Yes--holler's a drum--see straight through him; tired too--beat out.
+You'd think so if you see him. My play--clubs.”
+
+Harry turned to the landlord: “If this man comes in again give him
+food and lodging,” and he handed him a bank bill. “If he is here in the
+morning let me see him. I'm going to bed now. Good-night, men!”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+
+Should I lapse into the easy-flowing style of the chroniclers of
+the period of which I write--(and how often has the scribe wished he
+could)--this chapter would open with the announcement that on this
+particularly bleak, wintry afternoon a gentleman in the equestrian
+costume of the day, and mounted upon a well-groomed, high-spirited white
+horse, might have been seen galloping rapidly up a country lane leading
+to an old-fashioned manor house.
+
+Such, however, would not cover the facts. While the afternoon was
+certainly wintry, and while the rider was unquestionably a gentleman, he
+was by no manner of means attired in velveteen coat and russet-leather
+boots with silver spurs, his saddle-bags strapped on behind, but in
+a rough and badly worn sailor's suit, his free hand grasping a bundle
+carried loose on his pommel. As to the horse neither the immortal James
+or any of his school could truthfully picture this animal as either
+white or high-spirited. He might, it is true, have been born white and
+would in all probability have stayed white but for the many omissions
+and commissions of his earlier livery stable training--traces of which
+could still be found in his scraped sides and gnawed mane and tail; he
+might also have once had a certain commendable spirit had not the ups
+and downs of road life--and they were pretty steep outside Kennedy
+Square--taken it out of him.
+
+It is, however, when I come to the combination of horse and rider that
+I can with entire safety lapse into the flow of the old chroniclers. For
+whatever Harry had forgotten in his many experiences since he last threw
+his leg over Spitfire, horsemanship was not one of them. He still rode
+like a Cherokee and still sat his mount like a prince.
+
+He had had an anxious and busy morning. With the first streak of dawn he
+had written a long letter to his Uncle George, in which he told him of
+his arrival; of his heart-felt sorrow at what Pawson had imparted and of
+his leaving immediately, first for Wesley and then Craddock, as soon as
+he found out how the land lay at Moorlands. This epistle he was careful
+to enclose in another envelope, which he directed to Justice Coston,
+with instructions to forward it with “the least possible delay” to Mr.
+Temple, who was doubtless at Craddock, “and who was imperatively needed
+at home in connection with some matters which required his immediate
+personal attention,” and which enclosure, it is just as well to state,
+the honorable justice placed inside the mantel clock, that being the
+safest place for such precious missives, at least until the right owner
+should appear.
+
+This duly mailed, he had returned to the Sailors' House, knocked at the
+door of the upstairs room in which, through his generosity, the street
+vendor lay sleeping, and after waking him up and becoming assured that
+the man was in real distress, had bought at twice their value the China
+silks which had caused the disheartened pedler so many weary hours of
+tramping. These he had tucked under his arm and carried away.
+
+The act was not alone due to his charitable instincts. A much more
+selfish motive influenced him. Indeed the thought came to him in a way
+that had determined him to attend to his mail at early dawn and return
+at sunrise lest the owner should disappear and take the bundle with him.
+The silks were the very things he needed to help him solve one of his
+greatest difficulties. He would try, as the sailor-pedler had done, to
+sell them in the neighborhood of Moorlands--(a common practice in those
+days)--and in this way might gather up the information of which he was
+in search. Pawson had not known him--perhaps the others would not: he
+might even offer the silks to his father without being detected.
+
+With this plan clearly defined in his mind, he had walked into a livery
+stable near the market, but a short distance from his lodgings, with the
+silks in a bundle and after looking the stock over had picked out this
+unprepossessing beast as best able to take him to Moorlands and back
+between sunrise and dark.
+
+As he rode on, leaving the scattered buildings of the town far behind,
+mounting the hills and then striking the turnpike--every rod of which he
+could have found in the dark--his thoughts, like road-swallows, skimmed
+each mile he covered. Here was where he had stopped with Kate when her
+stirrup broke; near the branches of that oak close to the ditch marking
+the triangle of cross-roads he had saved his own and Spitfire's neck by
+a clear jump that had been the talk of the neighborhood for days. On
+the crest of this hill--the one he was then ascending--his father always
+tightened up the brakes on his four-in-hand, and on the slope beyond
+invariably braced himself in his seat, swung his whip, and the flattened
+team swept on and down, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake that blurred
+the road for minutes thereafter.
+
+When noon came he dismounted at a farmer's out-building beside the
+road--he would not trust the public-houses--fed and watered his horse,
+rubbed him down himself, and after an hour's rest pushed on toward the
+fork in the road to Moorlands. Beyond this was a cross-path that led to
+the outbarns and farm stables--a path bordered by thick bushes and which
+skirted a fence in the rear of the manor house itself. Here he intended
+to tie his steed and there he would mount him again should his mission
+fail.
+
+The dull winter sky had already heralded the dusk--it was near four
+o'clock in the afternoon--when he passed some hayricks where a group
+of negroes were at work. One or two raised their heads and then, as
+if reassured, resumed their tasks. This encouraged him to push on the
+nearer--he had evidently been mistaken for one of the many tradespeople
+seeking his father's overseer, either to sell tools or buy produce.
+
+Tying the horse close to the fence--so close that it could not be seen
+from the house--he threw the bundle of silks over his shoulder and
+struck out for the small office in the rear. Here the business of the
+estate was transacted, and here were almost always to be found either
+the overseer or one of his assistants--both of them white. These men
+were often changed, and his chance, therefore, of meeting a stranger was
+all the more likely.
+
+As he approached the low sill of the door which was level with the
+ground, and which now stood wide open, he caught the glow of a fire and
+could make out the figure of a man seated at a desk bending over a mass
+of papers. The man pushed back a green shade which had protected his
+eyes from the glare of a lamp and peered out at him.
+
+It was his father!
+
+The discovery was so unexpected and had come with such suddenness--it
+was rarely in these later days that the colonel was to be found here in
+the afternoon: he was either riding or receiving visitors--that Harry's
+first thought was to shrink back out of sight, or, if discovered, to
+make some excuse for his intrusion and retire. Then his mind changed and
+he stepped boldly in. This was what he had come for and this was what he
+would face.
+
+“I have some China silks to sell,” he said in his natural tone of voice,
+turning his head so that while his goods were in sight his face would be
+in shadow.
+
+“Silks! I don't want any silks! Who allowed you to pass in here? Alec!”
+ He pushed back his chair and moved to the door. “Alec! Where the devil
+is Alec! He's always where I don't want him!”
+
+“I saw no one to ask, sir,” Harry replied mechanically. His father's
+appearance had sent a chill through him; he would hardly have known him
+had he met him on the street. Not only did he look ten years older,
+but the injury to his sight caused him to glance sideways at any one he
+addressed, completely destroying the old fearless look in his eyes.
+
+“You never waited to ask! You walk into my private office unannounced
+and--” here he turned the lamp to see the better. “You're a sailor,
+aren't you?” he added fiercely--a closer view of the intruder only
+heightening his wrath.
+
+“Yes, sir--I'm a sailor,” replied Harry simply, his voice dying in his
+throat as he summed up the changes that the years had wrought in the
+colonel's once handsome, determined face--thinner, more shrunken, his
+mustache and the short temple-whiskers almost white.
+
+For an instant his father crumpled a wisp of paper he was holding
+between his fingers and thumb; and then demanded sharply, but with a
+tone of curiosity, as if willing the intruder should tarry a moment
+while he gathered the information:
+
+“How long have you been a sailor?”
+
+“I am just in from my last voyage.” He still kept in the shadow although
+he saw his father had so far failed to recognize him. The silks had been
+laid on a chair beside him.
+
+“That's not what I asked you. How long have you been a sailor?” He was
+scanning his face now as best he could, shifting the green shade that he
+might see the better.
+
+“I went to sea three years ago.”
+
+“Three years, eh? Where did you go?”
+
+The tone of curiosity had increased. Perhaps the next question would
+lead up to some basis on which he could either declare himself or lay
+the foundation of a declaration to be made the next day--after he had
+seen his mother and Alec.
+
+“To South America. Para was my first port,” he answered simply,
+wondering why he wanted to know.
+
+“That's not far from Rio?” He was still looking sideways at him, but
+there was no wavering in his gaze.
+
+“No, not far--Rio was our next stopping place. We had a hard voyage and
+put in to--”
+
+“Do you know a young man by the name of Rutter--slim man with dark hair
+and eyes?” interrupted his father in an angry tone.
+
+Harry started forward, his heart in his mouth, his hands upraised, his
+fingers opening. It was all he could do to restrain himself. “Don't you
+know me, father?” was trembling on his lips. Then something in the
+sound of the colonel's voice choked his utterance. Not now, he thought,
+mastering his emotion--a moment more and he would tell him.
+
+“I have heard of him, sir,” he answered when he recovered his speech,
+straining his ears to catch the next word.
+
+“Heard of him, have you? So has everybody else heard of him--a worthless
+scoundrel who broke his mother's heart; a man who disgraced his
+family--a gentleman turned brigand--a renegade who has gone back on his
+blood! Tell him so if you see him! Tell him I said so; I'm his father,
+and know! No--I don't want your silks--don't want anything that has to
+do with sailormen. I am busy--please go away. Don't stop to bundle them
+up--do that outside,” and he turned his back and readjusted the shade
+over his eyes.
+
+Harry's heart sank, and a cold faintness stole through his frame. He was
+not angry nor indignant. He was stunned.
+
+Without a word in reply he gathered up the silks from the chair, tucked
+them under his arm, and replacing his cap stepped outside into the fast
+approaching twilight. Whatever the morrow might bring forth, nothing
+more could be done to-day. To have thrown himself at his father's feet
+would only have resulted in his being driven from the grounds by the
+overseer, with the servants looking on--a humiliation he could not
+stand.
+
+As he stood rolling the fabrics into a smaller compass, a gray-haired
+negro in the livery of a house servant passed hurriedly and entered the
+door of the office. Instantly his father's voice rang out:
+
+“Where the devil have you been, Alec? How many times must I tell you to
+look after me oftener. Don't you know I'm half blind and--No--I don't
+want any more wood--I want these vagabonds kept off my grounds. Send Mr.
+Grant to me at once, and don't you lose sight of that man until you have
+seen him to the main road. He says he is a sailor--and I've had enough
+of sailors, and so has everybody else about here.”
+
+The negro bowed and backed out of the room. No answer of any kind was
+best when the colonel was in one of his “tantrums.”
+
+“I reckon I hab to ask ye, sah, to quit de place--de colonel don't 'low
+nobody to--” he said politely.
+
+Harry turned his face aside and started for the fence. His first thought
+was to drop his bundle and throw his arms around Alec's neck; then he
+realized that this would be worse than his declaring himself to his
+father--he could then be accused of attempting deception by the trick
+of a disguise. So he hurried on to where his horse was tied--his back
+to Alec, the bundle shifted to his left shoulder that he might hide his
+face the better until he was out of sight of the office, the old man
+stumbling on, calling after him:
+
+“No, dat ain't de way. Yer gotter go down de main road; here, man--don't
+I tell yer dat ain't de way.”
+
+Harry had now gained the fence and had already begun to loosen the reins
+when Alec, out of breath and highly indignant over the refusal to carry
+out his warning, reached his side.
+
+“You better come right back f'om whar ye started,” the old negro puffed;
+“ye can't go dat way or dey'll set de dogs on ye.” Here his eyes rested
+on the reins and forelock. “What! you got a horse an' you--”
+
+Harry turned and laid his hand on the old servant's shoulder. He could
+hardly control his voice:
+
+“Don't you know me, Alec? I'm Harry!”
+
+The old man bent down, peered into Harry's eyes, and with a quick spring
+forward grabbed him by both shoulders.
+
+“You my Marse Harry!--you!” His breath was gone now, his whole body in a
+tremble, his eyes bulging from his head.
+
+“Yes, Alec, Harry! It's only the beard. Look at me! I didn't want my
+father to see us--that's why I kept on.”
+
+The old servant threw up his hands and caught his young master around
+the neck. For some seconds he could not speak.
+
+“And de colonel druv ye out!” he gasped. “Oh, my Gawd! my Gawd! And ye
+ain't daid, and ye come back home ag'in.” He was sobbing now, his head
+on the exile's shoulder, Harry's arms about him--patting his bent back.
+“But yer gotter go back, Marse Harry,” he moaned. “He ain't 'sponsible
+these days. He didn't know ye! Come 'long, son; come back wid ol' Alec;
+please come, Marse Harry. Oh, Gawd! ye GOTTER come!”
+
+“No, I'll go home to-night--another day I'll--”
+
+“Ye ain't got no home but dis, I tell ye! Go tell him who ye is--lemme
+run tell him. I won't be a minute. Oh! Marse Harry, I can't let ye go! I
+been dat mizzable widout ye. I ain't neber got over lovin' ye!”
+
+Here a voice from near the office broke out. In the dusk the two could
+just make out the form of the colonel, who was evidently calling to some
+of his people. He was bareheaded and without his shade.
+
+“I've sent Alec to see him safe off the grounds. You go yourself, Mr.
+Grant, and follow him into the highroad; remember that after this I hold
+you responsible for these prowlers.”
+
+The two had paused while the colonel was speaking, Harry, gathering the
+reins in his hand, ready to vault into the saddle, and Alec, holding on
+to his coat-sleeves hoping still to detain him.
+
+“I haven't a minute more--quick, Alec, tell me how my mother is.”
+
+“She's middlin' po'ly, same's ever; got great rings under her eyes and
+her heart's dat heaby makes abody cry ter look at 'er. But she ain't
+sick, jes' griebin' herse'f to death. Ain't yer gwineter stop and see
+'er? May be I kin git ye in de back way.”
+
+“Not now--not here. Bring her to Uncle George's house to-morrow about
+noon, and I will be there. Tell her how I look, but don't tell her what
+my father has done. And now tell me about Miss Kate--how long since you
+saw her? Is she married?”
+
+Again the colonel's voice was heard; this time much nearer--within
+hailing distance. He and the overseer were evidently approaching the
+fence; some of the negroes had doubtless apprised them of the course of
+Harry's exit.
+
+Alec turned quickly to face his master, and Harry, realizing that his
+last moment had come, swung himself into the saddle. If Alec made any
+reply to his question it was lost in the clatter of hoofs as both horse
+and man swept down the by-path. In another moment they had gained
+the main road, the rider never breaking rein until he had reached the
+farm-house where he had fed and watered his horse some hours before.
+
+
+Thirty-odd miles out and back was not a long ride for a hired horse in
+these days over a good turnpike with plenty of time for resting--and
+he had as many breathing spells as gallops, for Harry's moods really
+directed his gait. Once in a while he would give him his head, the reins
+lying loose, the horse picking his way in a walk. Then the bitterness
+of his father's words and how undeserved they were, and how the house
+of cards his hopes had built up had come tumbling down about his ears
+at the first point of contact would rush over him, and he would dig his
+heels into the horse's flanks and send him at full gallop through the
+night along the pale ribbon of a road barely discernible in the ghostly
+dark. When, however, Alec's sobs smote his ear, or the white face of his
+mother confronted him, the animal would gradually slacken his pace and
+drop into a walk.
+
+Dominated by these emotions certain fixed resolutions at last took
+possession of him: He would see his mother at once, no matter at what
+cost--even if he defied his father--and then he would find his uncle.
+Whether he would board the next vessel heaving port and return to his
+work in the mountains, or whether he would bring his uncle back from
+Craddock and the two, with his own vigorous youth and new experience of
+the world, fight it out together as they had once done before, depended
+on what St. George advised. Now that Kate's marriage was practically
+decided upon, one sorrow--and his greatest--was settled forever. Any
+others that were in store for him he would meet as they came.
+
+With his mind still intent on these plans he rode at last into the open
+door of the small courtyard of the livery stable and drew rein under a
+swinging lantern. It was past ten at night, and the place was deserted,
+except by a young negro who advanced to take his horse. Tossing the
+bridle aside he slipped to the ground.
+
+“He's wet,” Harry said, “but he's all right. Let him cool off gradually,
+and don't give him any water until he gets dry. I'll come in to-morrow
+and pay your people what I owe them.”
+
+The negro curry-combed his fingers down the horse's flanks as if to
+assure himself of his condition, and in the movement brought his face
+under the glare of the overhead light.
+
+Harry grabbed him by the shoulder and swung him round.
+
+“Todd--you rascal! What are you doing here? Why are you not down on the
+Eastern Shore?” His astonishment was so intense that for an instant he
+could not realize he had the right man.
+
+The negro drew back. He was no runaway slave, and he didn't intend to be
+taken for one--certainly not by a man as rough and suspicious looking as
+the one before him.
+
+“How you know my name, man?” He was nervous and scared half out of his
+wits. More than one negro had been shanghaied in that way and smuggled
+off to sea.
+
+“Know you! I'd know you among a thousand. Have you, too, deserted your
+master?” He still held him firmly by the collar of his coat, his voice
+rising with his wrath. “Why have you left him? Answer me.”
+
+For an instant the negro hesitated, leaned forward, and then with a
+burst of joy end out:
+
+“You ain't!--Fo' Gawd it is! Dat beard on ye, Marse Harry, done fool
+me--but you is him fo' sho. Gor-a-mighty! ain't I glad ye ain't daid.
+Marse George say on'y yisterday you was either daid or sick dat ye
+didn't write an'--”
+
+“Said yesterday! Why, is he at home?”
+
+“HOME! Lemme throw a blanket over dis hoss and tie him tell we come
+back. Oh, we had a heap o' mis'ry since ye went away--a heap o' trouble.
+Nothin' but trouble! You come 'long wid me--'tain't far; des around
+de corner. I'll show ye sompin' make ye creep all over. An' it ain't
+gettin' no better--gettin' wuss. Dis way, Manse Harry. You been 'cross
+de big water, ain't ye? Dat's what I heared. Aunt Jemima been mighty
+good, but we can't go on dis way much longer.”
+
+Still talking, forging ahead in the darkness through the narrow street
+choked with horseless drays, Todd swung into a dingy yard, mounted a
+flight of rickety wooden steps, and halted at an unpainted door. Turning
+the knob softly he beckoned silently to Harry, and the two stepped
+into a small room lighted by a low lamp placed on the hearth, its rays
+falling on a cot bed and a few chairs. Beside a cheap pine table sat
+Aunt Jemima, rocking noiselessly. The old woman raised her hand in
+warning and put her fingers to her lips.
+
+On the bed, with the coverlet drawn close under his chin, lay his Uncle
+George!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+
+Harry looked about the room in a bewildered way and then tiptoed to
+St. George's bed. It had been a day of surprises, but this last had
+completely upset him. St. George dependent on the charity of his old
+cook and without other attendant than Todd! Why had he been deserted
+by everybody who loved him? Why was he not at Wesley or Craddock? Why
+should he be here of all places in the world?
+
+All these thoughts surged through his mind as he stood above the patient
+and watched his slow, labored breathing. That he had been ill for some
+time was evident in his emaciated face and the deep hollows into which
+his closed eyes were sunken.
+
+Aunt Jemima rose and handed the intruder her chair. He sat down
+noiselessly beside him. Once his uncle coughed, and in the effort drew
+the coverlet close about his throat, his eyes still shut; but whether
+from weakness or drowsiness, Harry could not tell. Presently he shifted
+his body, and moving his head on the pillow, called softly:
+
+“Jemima?”
+
+The old woman bent over him.
+
+“Yes, Marse George.”
+
+“Give me a little milk--my throat troubles me.”
+
+Harry drew back into the shadow cast over one end of the cot and rear
+wall by the low lamp on the hearth. Whether to slip his hand gently over
+his uncle's and declare himself, or whether to wait until he dozed again
+and return in the morning, when he would be less tired and could better
+withstand the shock of the meeting, was the question which disturbed
+him. And yet he could not leave until he satisfied himself of just what
+ought to be done. If he left him at all it must be for help of some
+kind. He leaned over and whispered in Jemima's ear:
+
+“Has he had a doctor?”
+
+Jemima shook her head. “He wouldn't hab none; he ain't been clean beat
+out till day befo' yisterday, an' den I got skeered an'--” She stopped,
+leaned closer, clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming,
+and staggered back to her chair.
+
+St. George raised his head from the pillow and stared into the shadows.
+
+“Who is talking? I heard somebody speak? Jemima--you haven't disobeyed
+me, have you?”
+
+Harry stepped noiselessly to the bedside and laid his fingers on the
+sick man's wrist:
+
+“Uncle George,” he said gently.
+
+Temple lowered his head as if to focus his gaze.
+
+“Yes, there is some one!” he cried in a stronger voice. “Who are you,
+sir?--not a doctor, are you? I didn't send for you!--I don't want any
+doctor, I told my servant so. Jemima!--Todd!--why do you--”
+
+Harry tightened his grasp on the emaciated wrist. “No, Uncle George,
+it's Harry! I'm just back.”
+
+“What did he say, Todd? Harry!--Harry! Did he say he was Harry, or am I
+losing my mind?”
+
+In his eagerness to understand he lifted himself to a sitting posture,
+his eyes wandering uneasily over the speaker's body, resting on his
+head--on his shoulders, arms, and hands--as if trying to fix his mind on
+something which constantly baffled him.
+
+Harry continued to pat his wrist soothingly.
+
+“Yes, it's Harry, Uncle George,” he answered. “But don't talk--lie
+down. I'm all right--I got in yesterday and have been looking for
+you everywhere. Pawson told me you were at Wesley. I found Todd a few
+minutes ago by the merest accident, and he brought me here. No, you must
+lie down--let me help--rest yourself on me--so.” He was as tender with
+him as if he had been his own mother.
+
+The sick man shook himself free--he was stronger than Harry thought. He
+was convinced now that there was some trick being played upon him--one
+Jemima in her anxiety had devised.
+
+“How dare you, sir, lie to me like that! Who asked you to come here?
+Todd--send this fellow from the room!”
+
+Harry drew back out of his uncle's vision and carefully watched the
+invalid. St. George's mind was evidently unhinged and it would be better
+not to thwart him.
+
+Todd crept up. He had seen his master like this once before and had had
+all he could do to keep him in bed.
+
+“Dat ain't no doctor, Marse George,” he pleaded, his voice trembling.
+“Dat's Marse Harry come back agin alive. It's de hair on his face make
+him look dat way; dat fool me too. It's Marse Harry, fo' sho'--I fotch
+him yere myse'f. He's jes' come from de big ship.”
+
+St. George twisted his head, looked long and earnestly into Harry's
+face, and with a sudden cry of joy stretched out his hand and motioned
+him nearer. Harry sank to his knees beside the bed. St. George curved
+one arm about his neck, drew him tightly to his breast as he would a
+woman, and fell back upon the pillow with Harry's head next his own.
+There the two lay still, St. George's eyes half closed, thick sobs
+stifling his utterance, the tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his
+thin white fingers caressing the brown hair of the boy he loved. At
+last, with a heavy, indrawn sigh, not of grief, but of joy, he muttered:
+
+“It's true, isn't it, my son?”
+
+Harry hugged him the tighter in answer.
+
+“And you are home for good?”
+
+Again the pressure. “Yes, but don't talk, you must go to sleep. I won't
+leave you.” His own tears were choking him now.
+
+Then, after a long pause, releasing his grasp: “I did not know how weak
+I was.... Maybe I had better not talk.... Don't stay. Come to-morrow and
+tell me about it.... There is no bed for you here... I am sorry ... but
+you must go away--you couldn't be comfortable.... Todd--”
+
+The darky started forward--both he and Aunt Jemima were crying:
+
+“Yes, Marse George.”
+
+“Take the lamp and light Mr. Rutter downstairs. To-morrow--to-morrow,
+Harry.... My God--think of it!--Harry home! Harry home! My Harry home!”
+ and he turned his face to the wall.
+
+On the way back--first to the stable, where he found that the horse
+had been properly cared for and his bill ready and then to his
+lodgings,--Todd told him the story of what had happened: At first his
+master had firmly intended going to the Eastern Shore--and for a
+long stay--for he had ordered his own and Todd's trunks packed with
+everything they both owned in the way of clothes. On the next day,
+however--the day before the boat left--Mr. Temple had made a visit to
+Jemima to bid her good-by, where he learned that her white lodger had
+decamped between suns, leaving two months board unpaid. In the effort to
+find this man, or compel his employer to pay his bill, out of some wages
+still due him--in both of which he failed--his master had missed the
+boat and they were obliged to wait another week. During this interim,
+not wishing to return to Pawson, and being as he said very comfortable
+where he was with his two servants to wait upon him, and the place as
+clean as a pin--his master had moved his own and Todd's trunk from the
+steamboat warehouse where they had been stored and had had them brought
+to Jemima's. Two days later--whether from exposure in tramping the
+streets in his efforts to collect the old woman's bill, or whether the
+change of lodgings had affected him--he was taken down with a chill and
+had been in bed ever since. With this situation staring both Jemima
+and himself in the face--for neither she nor Mr. Temple had much
+money left--Todd had appealed to Gadgem--(he being the only man in his
+experience who could always produce a roll of bills when everybody else
+failed)--who took him to the stableman whose accounts he collected--and
+who had once bought one of St. George's saddles--and who then and there
+hired Todd as night attendant. His wages, added to what Jemima could
+earn over her tubs, had kept the three alive. All this had taken place
+four weeks or more ago.
+
+None of all this, he assured Harry, had he told Gadgem or anybody
+else, his master's positive directions being to keep his abode and his
+condition a secret from everybody. All the collector knew was that Mr.
+Temple being too poor to take Todd with him, had left him behind to
+shift for himself until he could send for him. All the neighborhood
+knew, to quote Todd's own hilarious chuckle, was that “Miss Jemima
+Johnsing had two mo' boa'ders; one a sick man dat had los' his job an'
+de udder a yaller nigger who sot up nights watchin' de hosses eat dere
+haids off.”
+
+Since that time his master had had various ups and downs, but although
+he was still weak he was very much stronger than he had been any time
+since he had taken to his bed. Only once had he been delirious; then he
+talked ramblingly about Miss Kate and Marse Harry. This had so scared
+Aunt Jemima that she had determined to go to Mammy Henny and have her
+tell Miss Kate, so he could get a doctor--something he had positively
+forbidden her to do, but he grew so much better the next day that she
+had given it up; since that time his mind had not again given way. All
+he wanted now, so Todd concluded, was a good soup and “a drap o' sumpin
+warmin'--an' he'd pull thu'. But dere warn't no use tryin' ter git
+him to take it 'cause all he would eat was taters an' corn pone an'
+milk--an' sich like, 'cause he said dere warn't money 'nough fer de
+three--” whereupon Todd turned his head away and caught his breath,
+and then tried to pass it off as an unbidden choke--none of which
+subterfuges deceived Harry in the least.
+
+When the two arrived off the dimly burning lantern--it was past ten
+o'clock--and pushed in the door of the Sailors' House, Todd received
+another shock--one that sent his eyes bulging from his head. That Marse
+Harry Rutter, who was always a law unto himself, should grow a beard
+and wear rough clothes, was to be expected--“Dem Rutters was allus dat
+way--do jes's dey mineter--” but that the most elegant young man of
+his day “ob de fustest quality,” should take up his quarters in a low
+sailors' retreat, and be looked upon by the men gathered under
+the swinging lamp around a card table--(some of whom greeted Harry
+familiarly)--as one of their own kind, completely staggered him.
+
+The pedler was particularly gracious--so much so that when he learned
+that Harry was leaving for good, and had come to get his belongings--he
+jumped up and insisted on helping--at which Harry laughed and assented,
+and as a further mark of his appreciation presented him with the
+now useless silks, in addition to the money he gave him--an act of
+generosity which formed the sole topic of conversation in the resort for
+weeks thereafter.
+
+Board and lodging paid, the procession took up its return march: Harry
+in front, Todd, still dazed and still at sea as to the meaning of it
+all, following behind; the pedler between with Harry's heavy coat,
+blankets, etc.--all purchased since his shipwreck--the party threading
+the choked-up street until they reached the dingy yard, where the pedler
+dumped his pack and withdrew, while the darky stowed his load in the
+basement. This done, the two tiptoed once more up the stairs to where
+Aunt Jemima awaited them, St. George having fallen asleep.
+
+Beckoning the old woman away from the bedroom door and into the far
+corner of the small hall, Harry unfolded to her as much of his plans
+for the next day as he thought she ought to know. Early in the
+morning--before his uncle was astir--he would betake himself to Kennedy
+Square; ascertain from Pawson whether his uncle's rooms were still
+unoccupied, and if such were the case--and St. George be unable to
+walk--would pick him up bodily, wrap him in blankets, carry him in
+his own arms downstairs, place him in a carriage, and drive him to his
+former home where he would again pick him up and lay him in his own bed:
+This would be better than a hundred doctors--he had tried it himself
+when he was down with fever and knew. Aunt Jemima was to go ahead and
+see that these preparations were carried out. Should Alec be able to
+bring his mother to Kennedy Square in the morning, as he had instructed
+him to do, then there would indeed be somebody on hand who could nurse
+him even better than Jemima; should his mother not be there, Jemima
+would take her place. Nothing of all this, he charged her, was to be
+told St. George until the hour of departure. To dwell upon the intended
+move might overexcite him. Then, when everything was ready--his linen,
+etc., arranged--(Jemima was also to look after this)--he would whisk him
+off and make him comfortable in his own bed. He would, of course, now
+that his uncle wished it, keep secret his retreat; although why St.
+George Wilmot Temple, Esq., or any other gentleman of his standing,
+should object to being taken care of by his own servants was a thing he
+could not understand: Pawson, of course, need not know--nor should any
+outside person--not even Gadgem if he came nosing around. To these he
+would merely say that Mr. Temple had seen fit to leave home and that Mr.
+Temple had seen fit to return again: that was quite enough for attorneys
+and collectors. To all the others he would keep his counsel, until St.
+George himself made confession, which he was pretty sure he would do at
+the first opportunity.
+
+This decided upon he bade Jemima good-night, gave her explicit
+directions to call him, should his uncle awake (her own room opened out
+of St. George's) spread his blanket in the cramped hall outside the sick
+man's door--he had not roughed it on shipboard and in the wilderness all
+these years without knowing something of the soft side of a plank--and
+throwing his heavy ship's coat over him fell fast asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+
+When the first glimmer of the gray dawn stole through the small window
+at the end of the narrow hall, and laid its chilled fingers on Harry's
+upturned face, it found him still asleep. His ride to Moorlands and
+back--his muscles unused for months to the exercise--had tired him. The
+trials of the day, too, those with his father and his Uncle George,
+had tired him the more--and so he had slept on as a child sleeps--as a
+perfectly healthy man sleeps--both mind and body drinking in the ozone
+of a new courage and a new hope.
+
+With the first ray of the joyous sun riding full tilt across his face,
+he opened his eyes, threw off the cloak, and sprang to his feet. For an
+instant he looked wonderingly about as if in doubt whether to call the
+watch or begin the hunt for his cattle. Then the pine door caught his
+eye and the low, measured breathing of his uncle fell upon his ear,
+and with a quick lift of his arms, his strong hands thumping his broad
+chest, he stretched himself to his full height: he had work to do, and
+he must begin at once.
+
+Aunt Jemima was already at her duties. She had tiptoed past his sleeping
+body an hour before, and after listening to St. George's breathing had
+plunged into her tubs; the cat's cradle in the dingy court-yard being
+already gay with various colored fragments, including Harry's red
+flannel shirts which Todd had found in a paper parcel, and which the
+old woman had pounced upon at sight. She insisted on making him a cup of
+coffee, but he had no time for such luxuries. He would keep on, he said,
+to Kennedy Square, find Pawson, ascertain if St. George's old rooms were
+still unoccupied; notify him of Mr. Temple's return; have his bed made
+and fires properly lighted; stop at the livery stable, wake up Todd,
+if that darky had overslept himself--quite natural when he had been up
+almost all night--engage a carriage to be at Jemima's at four
+o'clock, and then return to get everything ready for the
+picking-up-and-carrying-downstairs process.
+
+And all this he did do; and all this he told Jemima he had done when
+he swung into the court-yard an hour later, a spring to his heels and a
+cheery note in his voice that had not been his for years. The reaction
+that hope brings to youth had set in. He was alive and at home; his
+Uncle George was where he could get his hands on him--in a minute--by
+the mounting of the stairs; and Alec and his mother within reach!
+
+And the same glad song was in his heart when he opened his uncle's door
+after he had swallowed his coffee--Jemima had it ready for him this
+time--and thrusting in his head cried out:
+
+“We are going to get you out of here, Uncle George!” This with a
+laugh--one of his old contagious laughs that was music in the sick man's
+ears.
+
+“When?” asked the invalid, his face radiant. He had been awake an hour
+wondering what it all meant. He had even thought of calling to Jemima
+to reassure himself that it was not a dream, until he heard her over her
+tubs and refrained from disturbing her.
+
+“Oh, pretty soon! I have just come from Pawson's. Fogbin hasn't put in
+an appearance and there's nobody in the rooms and hasn't been anybody
+there since you left. He can't understand it, nor can I--and I don't
+want to. I have ordered the bed made and a fire started in both the
+chamber and the old dining-room, and if anybody objects he has got to
+say so to me, and I am a very uncomfortable person to say some kinds
+of things to nowadays. So up you get when the time comes; and Todd and
+Jemima are to go too. I've got money enough, anyhow, to begin on. Aunt
+Jemima says you had a good night and it won't be long now before you are
+yourself again.”
+
+The radiant smile on the sick man's face blossomed into a laugh:
+“Yes--the best night that I have had since I was taken ill, and--Where
+did you sleep, my son?”
+
+“Me!--Oh, I had a fine time--long, well-ventilated room with two windows
+and private staircase; nice pine bedstead--very comfortable place for
+this part of the town.”
+
+St. George looked at him and his eyes filled. His mind was neither on
+his own questions nor on Harry's answers.
+
+“Get a chair, Harry, and sit by me so I can look at you closer. How
+fine and strong you are my son--not like your father--you're like your
+mother. And you've broadened out--mentally as well as physically. Pretty
+hard I tell you to spoil a gentleman--more difficult still to spoil a
+Rutter. But you must get that beard off--it isn't becoming to you, and
+then somebody might think you disguised yourself on purpose. I didn't
+know you at first, neither did Jemima--and you don't want anybody else
+to make that kind of a mistake.”
+
+“My father did, yesterday--” Harry rejoined quietly, dropping into
+Jemima's chair.
+
+St. George half raised himself from his bed: “You have seen him?”
+
+“Yes--and I wish I hadn't. But I hunted everywhere for you and then got
+a horse and rode out home. He didn't know me--that is, I'm pretty sure
+he didn't--but he cursed me all the same. My mother and old Alec, I
+hope, will come in to-day--but father's chapter is closed forever. I
+have been a fool to hope for anything else.”
+
+“Drove you out! Oh, no--NO! Harry! Impossible!”
+
+“But he did--” and then followed an account of all the wanderer had
+passed through from the time he had set foot on shore to the moment of
+meeting Todd and himself.
+
+For some minutes St. George lay staring at the ceiling. It was all a
+horrid, nightmare to him. Talbot deserved nothing but contempt and he
+would get it so far as he was concerned. He agreed with Harry that all
+reconciliation was now a thing of the past; the only solution possible
+was that Talbot was out of his senses--the affair having undermined
+his reason. He had heard of such cases and had doubted them--he was
+convinced now that they could be true. His answer, therefore, to Harry's
+next question--one about his lost sweetheart--was given with a certain
+hesitation. As long as the memory of Rutter's curses rankled within him
+all reference to Kate's affairs--even the little he knew himself--must
+be made with some circumspection. There was no hope in that direction
+either, but he did not want to tell him so outright; nor did he want to
+dwell too long upon the subject.
+
+“And I suppose Kate is married by this time, Uncle George,” Harry said
+at last in a casual tone, “is she not?” (He had been leading up to it
+rather skilfully, but there had been no doubt in his uncle's mind as to
+his intention.) “I saw the house lighted up, night before last when I
+passed, and a lot of people about, so I thought it might be either the
+wedding or the reception.” The question had left his lips as one shoots
+an arrow in the dark--hit or miss--as if he did not care which. He too
+realized that this was no time to open wounds, certainly not in his
+uncle's heart; and yet he could wait no longer.
+
+“No--I don't think the wedding has taken place,” St. George replied
+vaguely. “The servants would know if it had--they know everything--and
+Aunt Jemima would be the first to have told me. The house being lighted
+up is no evidence. They have been giving a series of entertainments this
+winter and there were more to come when I last saw Kate, which was one
+night at Richard Horn's. But let us close that chapter too, my boy. You
+and I will take a new lease of life from now on. You have already put
+fresh blood into my veins--I haven't felt so well for weeks. Now tell
+me about yourself. Your last letter reached me six months ago, if
+I remember right. You were then in Rio and were going up into the
+mountains. Did you go?”
+
+“Yes--up into the Rio Abaste country where they had discovered diamonds
+as big as hens' eggs--one had been sold for nearly a quarter of a
+million dollars--and everybody was crazy. I didn't find any diamonds nor
+anything else but starvation, so I herded cattle, that being the only
+thing I knew anything about--how to ride--and slept out on the lowlands
+sometimes under a native mat and sometimes under the kindly stars. Then
+we had a revolution and cattle raids, and one night I came pretty near
+being chewed up by a puma--and so it went. I made a little money in
+rawhides after I got to know the natives, and I'm going back to make
+some more; and you are going with me when we get things straightened
+out. I wouldn't have come home except that I heard you had been turned
+out neck and crop from Kennedy Square. One of Mr. Seymour's clerks
+stopped in Rio on his way to the River Plate and did some business with
+an English agent whom I met afterward at a hacienda, and who told me
+about you when he learned I was from Kennedy Square. And when I think
+of it all, Uncle George, and what you have suffered on account of
+me!”--Here his voice faltered. “No!--I won't talk about it--I can't.
+I have spent too many sleepless nights over it: I have been hungry and
+half dead, but I have kept on--and I am not through: I'll pull out yet
+and put you on your feet once more if I live!”
+
+St. George laid his hand tenderly on the young man's wrist. He knew how
+the boy felt about it. That was one of the things he loved him for.
+
+“And so you started home when you heard it,” he went on, clearing his
+throat. “That was just like you, you dear fellow! And you haven't come
+home an hour too soon. I should have been measured for a pine coffin in
+another week.” The choke was quite in evidence now. “You see, I really
+couldn't go to Coston's when I thought it all over. I had made up
+my mind to go for a week or so until I saw this place, and then I
+determined I would stop with Jemima. I could eke out an existence here
+on what I had left and still feel like a gentleman, but I couldn't
+settle down on dear Peggy Coston and be anything but a poltroon. As to
+my making a living at the law--that was pure moonshine. I haven't
+opened a law book for twenty years and now it's too late. People of our
+class”--here he looked away from his companion and talked straight
+at the foot of the bed--“People of our class my boy,” he repeated
+slowly--“when they reach the neck and crop period you spoke of, are at
+the end of their rope. There are then but two things left--either to
+become the inmate of a poorhouse or to become a sponge. I prefer this
+bare room as a happy medium, and I am content to stay where I am as long
+as we three can keep body and soul together. There is--so Pawson told me
+before I left my house--a little money coming in from a ground rent--a
+few months off, perhaps, but more than enough to pay Todd back--he gives
+Jemima every cent of his wages--and when this does come in and I can get
+out once more, I'm going to order my life so I can make a respectable
+showing of some kind.”
+
+He paused for a moment, fastened his gaze again on Harry, and continued:
+
+“As to my going back to Pawson's, I am not altogether sure that that
+is the wisest thing to do. I may have to leave again as soon as I get
+comfortably settled in my bed. I turned out at his bidding before and
+may have to turn again when he says the word. So don't kindle too many
+fires with Pawson's wood--I hadn't a log to my name when I left--or
+it may warm somebody's else's shins besides mine,” and a merry twinkle
+shone in his eyes.
+
+Harry burst out laughing.
+
+“Wood or no wood, Uncle George, I'm going to be landlord now--Pawson can
+move out and graze his cattle somewhere else. I'm going to take charge
+of the hut and stock and the pack mules and provisions--and with a gun,
+if necessary--” and he levelled an imaginary fowling-piece with a boyish
+gesture.
+
+“Don't you try to move anybody without an order of the court!” cried
+St. George, joining in the merriment. “With that mortgage hanging
+over everything and Gorsuch and your father cudgelling their brains to
+foreclose it, you won't have a ghost of a chance. Come to think of it,
+however, I might help--for a few weeks' expenses, at least. How
+would this do?” Here he had all he could do to straighten his face:
+“'Attention now--Hats off in the court-room. For sale or hire! Immediate
+delivery. One first-class gentleman, in reasonable repair. Could be
+made useful in opening and shutting doors, or in dancing attendance upon
+children under one year of age, or in keeping flies from bedridden
+folk. Apply, and so forth,' Gadgem could fix it. He has done the most
+marvellous things in the last year or two--extraordinary, really! Ask
+Todd about it some time--he'll tell you.”
+
+They were both roaring with laughter, St. George so buoyed up by the
+contagious spirit of the young fellow that he insisted on getting out of
+bed and sitting in Aunt Jemima's rocking chair with a blanket across his
+knees.
+
+All the morning did this happy talk go on:--the joyous unconfined talk
+of two men who had hungered and thirsted for each other through weary
+bitter days and nights, and whose coming together was like the mingling
+of two streams long kept apart, and now one great river flowing to a
+common outlet and a common good.
+
+And not only did their talk cover the whole range of Harry's experiences
+from the time he left the ship for his sojourn in the hill country and
+the mountains beyond, and all of St. George's haps and mishaps, with
+every single transaction of Gadgem and Pawson--loving cup, dogs and
+all--but when their own personal news was exhausted they both fell back
+on their friends, such as Richard Horn and old Judge Pancoast; when he
+had seen Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Latrobe--yes, and what of Mr. Poe--had he
+written any more?--and were his habits any better?--etc., etc.
+
+“I have seen Mr. Poe several times since that unfortunate dinner, Harry;
+the last time when he was good enough to call upon me on his way to
+Richmond. He was then particularly himself. You would not have known
+him--grave, dignified, perfectly dressed--charming, delightful. He came
+in quite late--indeed I was going to bed when I heard his knock and,
+Todd being out, I opened the door myself. There was some of that Black
+Warrior left, and I brought out the decanter, but he shook his head
+courteously and continued his talk. He asked after you. Wonderful man,
+Harry--a man you never forget once you know him.”
+
+St. George dragged the pine table nearer his chair and moistened his
+lips with the glass of milk which Jemima had set beside him. Then he
+went on:
+
+“You remember Judge Giles, do you not? Lives here on St. Paul
+Street--yes--of course you do--for he is a great friend of your father's
+and you must have met him repeatedly at Moorlands. Well, one day at the
+club he told me the most extraordinary story about Mr. Poe--this was
+some time after you'd gone. It seems that the judge was at work in his
+study late one snowy night when his doorbell sounded. Outside stood
+a man with his coat buttoned close about his throat--evidently a
+gentleman--who asked him politely for a sheet of paper and a pen. You
+know the judge, and how kind and considerate he is. Well, of course he
+asked him in, drew out a chair at his desk and stepped into the next
+room to leave him undisturbed. After a time, not hearing him move, he
+looked in and to his surprise the stranger had disappeared. On the desk
+lay a sheet of paper on which was written three verses of a poem. It was
+his 'Bells.' The judge has had them framed, so I hear. There was enough
+snow on the ground to bring out the cutters, and Poe had the rhythm of
+the bells ringing in his head and being afraid he would forget it he
+pulled the judge's doorbell. I wish he'd rung mine. I must get the poem
+for you, Harry--it's as famous now as 'The Raven.' Richard, I hear,
+reads it so that you can distinguish the sound of each bell.”
+
+“Well, he taught me a lesson,” said Harry, tucking the blanket close
+around his uncle's knees--“one I have never forgotten, and never will.
+He sent me to bed a wreck, I remember, but I got up the next morning
+with a new mast in me and all my pumps working.”
+
+“You mean--” and St. George smiled meaningly and tossed his hand up as
+if emptying a glass.
+
+“Yes--just that--” rejoined Harry with a nod. “It's so hot out where
+I have been that a glass of native rum is as bad as a snake bite and
+everybody except a native leaves it alone. But if I had gone to the
+North Pole instead of the equator I would have done the same. Men like
+you and father, and Mr. Richard Horn and Mr. Kennedy, who have been
+brought up on moderation, may feel as they choose about it, but I'm
+going to let it alone. It's the devil when it gets into your blood and
+mine's not made for it. I'd like to thank Mr. Poe if I dared, which
+I wouldn't, of course, if I ever saw him, for what he did for me. I
+wouldn't be surprised if he would give a good deal himself to do the
+same--or has he pulled out?”
+
+“He never has pulled in, Harry--not continuously. Richard has the right
+of it. Poe is a man pursued by a devil and lives always on the watch to
+prevent the fiend from getting the best of him. Months at a time he
+wins and then there comes a day when the devil gets on top. He says
+himself--he told me this the last time I saw him--that he really lives
+a life devoted to his literary work; that he shuts himself up from
+everybody; and that the desire for society only comes upon him when he's
+excited by drink. Then, and only then, does he go among his fellows.
+There is some truth in that, my son, for as long as I have known him
+I have never seen him in his cups except that one night at my house. A
+courteous, well-bred gentleman, my boy--most punctilious about all his
+obligations and very honest about his failings. All he said to me
+the next day when he sobered up--I kept him all that night, you
+remember--was: 'I was miserably weak and inexcusably drunk last night,
+Mr. Temple. If that was all it would make no difference; I have been
+very drunk before, and I will be very drunk again; but in addition to my
+being drunk I insulted you and your friends and ruined your dinner. That
+makes every difference. Don't let it cause a break between us. Let me
+come again. And now please brush it from your mind. If you knew how I
+suffer over this fiend who tortures and gloats over me you'd only have
+the greatest pity for me, in your heart.' Then he wrung my hand and left
+the house.”
+
+“Well, that's all any of us could do,” sighed Harry, leaning back in his
+chair, his eyes on the ceiling. “It makes some difference, however,
+of whom you ask forgiveness. I've been willing to say the same kind of
+thing to my father ever since my affair with Mr. Willits, but it would
+have fallen on deaf ears. I had another trial at it yesterday, and you
+know what happened.”
+
+“I don't think your father knew you, Harry,” protested St. George, with
+a negative wave of his hand.
+
+“I hope he didn't--I shouldn't like to think he did. But, by heaven! it
+broke my heart to see him, Uncle George. You would hardly know him. Even
+his voice has changed and the shade over his eyes and the way he twists
+his head when he looks at you really gave me a creepy feeling,” and the
+young man passed his fingers across his own eyes as if to shut out some
+hideous object.
+
+“Was he looking straight at you when he ordered you from the room?”
+
+“Straight as he could.”
+
+“Well, let us try and think it was the beard. And that reminds me, son,
+that it's got to come off, and right away. When Todd comes in he'll find
+my razors and--”
+
+“No--I'll look up a barber.”
+
+“Not down in this part of the town,” exclaimed St. George with a
+suggestive grimace.
+
+“No--I'll go up to Guy's. There used to be an old negro there who looked
+after us young fellows when our beards began to sprout. He'll take care
+of it all right. While I'm out I'll stop and send Todd back. I'm going
+to end his apprenticeship to-day, and so he'll help you dress. Nothing
+like getting into your clothes when you're well enough to get out
+of bed; I've done it more than once,” and with a pat on his uncle's
+shoulder and the readjustment of the blanket, he closed the door behind
+him and left the room.
+
+“Everything is working fine, auntie,” he cried gaily as he passed the
+old woman who was hanging out the last of her wash. “I'll be back in
+an hour. Don't tell him yet--” and he strode out of the yard on his way
+uptown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+
+Intruders of all kinds had thrust their heads between the dripping,
+slightly moist, and wholly dry installments of Aunt Jemima's Monday
+wash, and each and every one had been assailed by a vocabulary hurled
+at them through the creaky gate, and as far out as the street--peddlers;
+beggars; tramps; loose darkies with no visible means of support, who
+had smelt the cooking in the air--even goats with an acquired taste for
+stocking legs and window curtains--all of whom had either been invited
+out, whirled out, or thrown out, dependent upon the damage inflicted,
+the size of the favors asked, or the length of space intervening between
+Jemima's right arm and their backs. In all of these instances the old
+cook had been the broom and the intruders the dust. Being an expert in
+its use the intruders had succumbed before they had gotten through their
+first sentence. In the case of the goat even that privilege was denied
+him; it was the handle and not the brush-part which ended the argument.
+To see Aunt Jemima get rid of a goat in one whack and two jumps was
+not only a lesson in condensed conversation, but furnished a sight one
+rarely forgot--the goat never!
+
+This morning the situation was reversed. It was Aunt Jemima who came
+flying upstairs, her eyes popping from her head, her plump hands
+flattened against her big, heaving bosom, her breath gone in the effort
+to tell her dreadful news before she should drop dead.
+
+“Marse George! who d'ye think's downstairs?” she gasped, bursting in the
+door of his bedroom, without even the customary tap. “Oh, bless Gawd!
+dat you'se outen dat bed! and dressed and tryin' yo' po' legs about the
+room. He's comin' up. Got a man wid him I ain't neber see befo'. Says
+he's a-lookin' fer somebody! Git in de closet an' I'll tell him you'se
+out an' den I'll run an' watch for Marse Harry at de gate. Oh, I doan'
+like dis yere bus'ness,” and she began to wring her hands.
+
+St. George, who had been listening to the old woman with mingled
+feelings of wonder and curiosity, raised his hand to silence her.
+Whether she had gone daft or was more than usually excited he could not
+for the moment decide.
+
+“Get your breath, Jemima, and tell me what you're talking about. Who's
+downstairs?”
+
+“Ain't I jes' don' tol' yer? Got a look on him make ye shiver all over;
+says he's gwineter s'arch de house. He's got a constable wid him--dat
+is, he's got a man dat looks like a constable, an'--”
+
+St. George laid his hands on the old woman's shoulders, and turned her
+about.
+
+“Hush your racket this instant, and tell me who is downstairs?”
+
+“Marse Talbot Rutter,” she wheezed; “come f'om de country--got mud all
+ober his boots.”
+
+“Mr. Harry's father?”
+
+Aunt Jemima choked and nodded: there was no breath left for more.
+
+“Who did he ask for?” St. George was calm enough now.
+
+“Didn't ask fer nobody; he say, 'I'm lookin' fer a man dat come in yere
+las' night.' I see he didn't know me an' I neber let on. Den he say,
+'Hab you got any boa'ders yere?' an' I say, 'I got one,' an' den he
+'tempted ter pass me an' I say, 'Wait a minute 'til I see ef he's outen
+de bed.' Now, what's I gwineter do? He doan' mean no good to Marse Harry
+an' he'll dribe him 'way ag'in, an' he jes' come back an' you gittin'
+well a-lovin' of him--an'--”
+
+An uncertain step was heard in the hall.
+
+“Dat's him,” Jemima whispered hoarsely, behind her hand, “what'll I do?
+Doan' let him come in. I'll--”
+
+St. George moved past her and pushed back the door.
+
+Colonel Rutter stood outside.
+
+The two men looked into each other's faces.
+
+“I am in search, sir,” the colonel began, shading his eyes with his
+fingers, the brighter light of the room weakening his sight, “for a
+young sailor whom I am informed stopped here last night, and who... ST.
+GEORGE! What in the name of God are you doing in a place like this?”
+
+“Come inside, Talbot,” Temple replied calmly, his eyes fixed on Rutter's
+drawn face and faltering gaze. “Aunt Jemima, hand Colonel Rutter a
+chair. You will excuse me if I sit down--I am just out of bed after
+a long illness, and am a little weak,” and he settled slowly into his
+seat. “My servant tells me that you are looking for a--”
+
+St. George paused. Rutter was paying no more attention to what he said
+than if he had been in the next room. He was straining his eyes about
+the apartment; taking in the empty bed from which St. George had just
+arisen, the cheap chairs and small pine table and the kitchen plates and
+cup which still held the remains of St. George's breakfast. He waited
+until Jemima had backed out of the door, her scared face still a tangle
+of emotions--fear for her master's safety uppermost. His eyes again
+veered to St. George.
+
+“What does it all mean, Temple?” he asked in a dazed way.
+
+“I don't think that subject is under discussion, Talbot, and we will,
+therefore, pass it. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
+
+“Don't be a damned fool, St. George! Don't you see I'm half crazy? Harry
+has come back and he is hiding somewhere in this neighborhood.”
+
+“How do you know?” he inquired coolly. He did not intend to help Rutter
+one iota in his search until he found out why he wanted Harry. No more
+cursing of either his son or himself--that was another chapter which was
+closed.
+
+“Because I've been hunting for him all day. He rode out to Moorlands
+yesterday, and I didn't know him, he's so changed. But think of it! St.
+George, I ordered him out of my office. I took him for a road-peddler.
+And he's going to sea again--he told Alec as much. I tell you I have got
+to get hold of him! Don't sit there and stare at me, man! tell me where
+I can find my son!”
+
+“What made you suppose he was here, Talbot?” The same cool, measured
+speech and manner, but with a more open mind behind it now. The pathetic
+aspect of the man, and the acute suffering shown in every tone of his
+voice, had begun to tell upon the invalid.
+
+“Because a man I've got downstairs brought Harry here last night. He is
+not positive, as it was quite dark, but he thinks this is the place.
+I went first to the Barkeley Line, found they had a ship in--the
+Mohican--and saw the captain, who told me of a man who came aboard at
+Rio. Then I learned where he had put up for the night--a low sailors'
+retreat--and found this peddler who said he had sold Harry the silks
+which he offered me. He brought me here.”
+
+“Well, I can't help you any. There are only two rooms--I occupy this and
+my old cook, Jemima, has the other. I have been here for over a month.”
+
+“Here! in this God-forsaken place! Why, we thought you had gone to
+Virginia. That's why we have had no answers to our letters, and we've
+hunted high and low for you. Certainly you have heard about the Patapsco
+and what--”
+
+“I certainly have heard nothing, Talbot, and as I have just told you,
+I'd rather you would not discuss my affairs. The last time you saw
+fit to encroach upon them brought only bitterness, and I prefer not to
+repeat it. Anything you have to say about Harry I will gladly hear. Go
+on--I'm listening.”
+
+“For God's sake, St. George, don't take that tone with me! If you knew
+how wretched I am you'd be sorry for me. I am a broken-down man! If
+Harry goes away again without my seeing him I don't want to live another
+day. When Alec came running back last night and told me that I had
+cursed my son to his face, I nearly went out of my mind. I knew when I
+saw Alec's anger that it was true, and I knew, too, what a brute I had
+been. I ran to Annie's room, took her in my arms, and asked her pardon.
+All night I walked my room; at daylight I rang for Alec, sent for
+Matthew, and he hooked up the carryall and we came in here. Annie wanted
+to come with me, but I wouldn't let her. I knew Seymour wasn't out
+of bed that early, and so I drove straight to the shipping office and
+waited until it was open, and I've been hunting for him ever since. You
+and I have been boys together, St. George--don't lay up against me all
+the insulting things I've said to you--all the harm I've done you! God
+knows I've repented of it! Will you forgive me, St. George, for the sake
+of the old days--for the sake of my boy to whom you have been a father?
+Will you give me your hand? What in the name of common sense should
+you and I be enemies for? I, who owe you more than I owe any man in the
+world! Will you help me?”
+
+St. George was staring now. He bent forward, gripped the arms of his
+chair for a better purchase, and lifted himself to his feet. There he
+stood swaying, Rutter's outstretched hand in both of his, his whole
+nature stirred--only one thought in his heart--to wipe out the past and
+bring father and son together.
+
+“Yes, Talbot--I'll forgive you and I'll help you--I have helped you!
+Harry will be here in a few minutes--I sent him out to get his beard
+shaved off--that's why you didn't know him.”
+
+The colonel reeled and but for St. George's hand would have lost his
+balance. All the blood was gone from his cheeks. He tried to speak, but
+the lips refused to move. For an instant St. George thought he would
+sink to the floor.
+
+“You say--Harry... is here!” he stammered out at last, catching wildly
+at Temple's other hand to steady himself.
+
+“Yes, he came across Todd by the merest accident or he would have gone
+to the Eastern Shore to look me up. Listen!--that's his step now! Turn
+that door knob and hold out your hands to him, and after you've got your
+arms around him get down on your knees and thank your God that you've
+got such a son! I do, every hour I live!”
+
+The door swung wide and Harry strode in: his eyes glistening, his cheeks
+aglow.
+
+“Up, are you, and in your clothes!” he cried joyfully, all the freshness
+of the morning in his voice. “Well, that's something like! How do you
+like me now?--smooth as a marlinspike and my hair trimmed in the latest
+fashion, so old Bones says. He didn't know me either till he got clear
+down below my mouth and when my chin began to show he gave a--”
+
+He stopped and stared at his father, who had been hidden from sight by
+the swinging door. The surprise was so great that his voice clogged in
+his throat. Rutter stood like one who had seen an apparition.
+
+St. George broke the silence:
+
+“It's all right, Harry--give your father your hand.”
+
+The colonel made a step forward, threw out one arm as if to regain his
+equilibrium and swayed toward a chair, his frame shaking convulsively,
+wholly unstrung, sobbing like a child. Harry sprang to catch him and
+the two sank down together--no word of comfort--only the mute appeal of
+touch--the brown hand wet with his father's tears.
+
+For some seconds neither spoke, then Rutter raised his head and looked
+into his son's face.
+
+“I didn't know it was you, Harry. I have been hunting you all day to ask
+your pardon.” It was the memory of the last indignity he had heaped upon
+him that tortured him.
+
+“I knew you didn't, father.”
+
+“Don't go away again, Harry, please don't, my son!” he pleaded,
+strangling the tears, trying to regain his self-control--tears had often
+of late moistened Rutter's lids. “Your mother can't stand it another
+year, and I'm breaking up--half blind. You won't go, will you?”
+
+“No--not right away, father--we'll talk of that later.” He was still in
+the dark as to how it had come about. All he knew was that for the first
+time in all his life his father had asked his pardon, and for the first
+time in his life the barrier which held them apart had been broken down.
+
+The colonel braced himself in his seat in one supreme effort to get
+himself in hand. One of his boasts was that he had never lost his
+self-control. Harry rose to his feet and stood beside him. St. George,
+trembling from his own weakness, a great throb of thankfulness in his
+heart, had kept his place in his chair, his eyes turned away from the
+scene. His own mind had also undergone a change. He had always known
+that somewhere down in Talbot Rutter's heart--down underneath the
+strata of pride and love of power, there could be found the heart of
+a father--indeed he had often predicted to himself just such a coming
+together. It was the boy's pluck and manliness that had done it; a
+manliness free from all truckling or cringing. And then his tenderness
+over the man who had of all others in the world wronged him most! He
+could hardly keep his glad hands off the boy.
+
+“You will go home with me, of course, won't you, Harry?” He must ask
+his consent now--this son of his whom he had driven from his home and
+insulted in the presence of his friends at the club, and whom he could
+see was now absolutely independent of him--and what was more to the
+point absolutely his own master.
+
+“Yes, of course, I'll go home with you, father,” came the respectful
+answer, “if mother isn't coming in. Did she or Alec say anything to you
+about it before you left?”
+
+“No, she isn't coming in to-day--I wouldn't let her. It was too early
+when I started. But that's not what I mean,” he went on with increasing
+excitement. “I want you to go home with me and stay forever; I want to
+forget the past; I want St. George to hear me say so! Come and take your
+place at the head of the estate--I will have Gorsuch arrange the papers
+to-morrow. You and St. George must go back with me to-day. I have the
+large carryall--Matthew is with me--he stopped at the corner--he's there
+now.”
+
+“That's very kind of you, father,” Harry rejoined calmly, concealing as
+best he could his disappointment at not being able to see his mother.
+
+“Yes! of course you will go with me,” his father continued in nervous,
+jerky tones. “Please send the servant for Matthew, my coachman, and have
+him drive up. As for you, St. George, you can't stay here another hour.
+How you ever got here is more than I can understand. Moorlands is the
+place for you both--you'll get well there. My carriage is a very easy
+one. Perhaps I had better go for Matthew myself.”
+
+“No, don't move, Talbot,” rejoined St. George in a calm firm voice
+wondering at Talbot's manner. He had never seen him like this. All
+his old-time measured talk and manner were gone; he was like some
+breathless, hunted man pleading for his life. “I'm very grateful to you
+but I shall stay here. Harry, will you kindly go for Matthew?”
+
+“Stay here!--for how long?” cried the colonel in astonishment, his
+glance following Harry as he left the room in obedience to his uncle's
+request.
+
+“Well, perhaps for the balance of the winter.”
+
+“In this hole?” His voice had grown stronger.
+
+“Certainly, why not?” replied St. George simply, moving his chair so
+that his guest might see him the better. “My servants are taking care of
+me. I can pay my way here, and it's about the only place in which I can
+pay it, and I want to tell you frankly, Talbot, that I am very happy to
+be here--am very glad, really, to get such a place. No one could be more
+devoted than my Todd and Jemima--I shall never forget their kindness.”
+
+“But you're not a pauper?” cried the colonel in some heat.
+
+“That was what you were once good enough to call me--the last time
+we met. The only change is that then I owed Pawson and that now I owe
+Todd,” he replied, trying to repress a smile, as if the humor of the
+situation would overcome him if he was not careful. “Thank you very
+much, Talbot--and I mean every word of it--but I'll stay where I am, at
+least for the present.”
+
+“But the bank is on its legs again,” rebounded the colonel, ignoring all
+reference to the past, his voice gaining in volume.
+
+“So am I,” laughed St. George, tapping his lean thighs with his
+transparent fingers--“on a very shaky pair of legs--so shaky that I
+shall have to go to bed again pretty soon.”
+
+“But you're coming out all right, St. George!” Rutter had squared
+himself in his chair and was now looking straight at his host. “Gorsuch
+has written you half a dozen letters about it and not a word from you
+in reply. Now I see why. But all that will come out in time, I tell you.
+You're not going to stay here for an hour longer.” His old personality
+was beginning to assert itself.
+
+“The future doesn't interest me, Talbot,” smiled St. George in perfect
+good humor. “In my experience my future has always been worse than my
+past.”
+
+“But that is no reason why you shouldn't go home with me now and let us
+take care of you,” Rutter cried in a still more positive tone. “Annie
+will be delighted. Stay a month with me--stay a year. After what I owe
+you, St. George, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you.”
+
+“You have already done it, Talbot--every obligation is wiped out,”
+ rejoined St. George in a satisfied tone.
+
+“How?”
+
+“By coming here and asking Harry's pardon--that is more to me than all
+the things I have ever possessed,” and his voice broke as he thought
+of the change that had taken place in Harry's fortunes in the last half
+hour.
+
+“Then come out to Moorlands and let me prove it!” exclaimed the colonel,
+leaning forward in his eagerness and grasping St. George by the sleeve.
+
+“No,” replied St. George in appreciative but positive tones--showing his
+mind was fully made up. “If I go anywhere I'll go back to my house on
+Kennedy Square--that is to the little of it that is still mine. I'll
+stay there for a day or two, to please Harry--or until they turn me out
+again, and then I'll come back here. Change of air may do me good, and
+besides, Jemima and Todd should get a rest.”
+
+The colonel rose to his feet: “You shall do no such thing!” he exploded.
+The old dominating air was in full swing now. “I tell you you WILL come
+with me! Damn you, St. George!--if you don't I'll never speak to you
+again, so help me, God!”
+
+St. George threw back his head and burst into a roar of laughter in
+which, after a moment of angry hesitation, Rutter joined. Then he
+reached down and with his hand on St. George's shoulder, said in a
+coaxing tone--“Come along to Moorlands, old fellow--I'd be so glad to
+have you, and so will Annie, and we'll live over the old days.”
+
+Harry's re-entrance cut short the answer.
+
+“No father,” he cried cheerily, taking up the refrain. He had seen the
+friendly caress and had heard the last sentence. “Uncle George is still
+too ill, and too weak for so long a drive. It's only the excitement over
+my return that keeps him up now--and he'll collapse if we don't look
+out--but he'll collapse in a better place than this!” he added with
+joyous emphasis. “Todd is outside, the hack is at the gate, and Jemima
+is now waiting for him in his old room at home. Give me your arm, you
+blessed old cripple, and let me help you downstairs. Out of the way,
+father, or he'll change his mind and I'll have to pick him up bodily and
+carry him.”
+
+St. George shot a merry glance at Harry from under his eyebrows, and
+with a wave of his hand and a deprecating shake of his head at the
+colonel said:
+
+“These rovers and freebooters, Talbot, have so lorded it over their
+serfs that they've lost all respect for their betters. Give me your
+hand, you vagabond, and if you break my neck I'll make you bury me.”
+
+The colonel looked on silently and a sharp pain gripped his throat.
+When, in all his life, had he ever been spoken to by his boy in that
+spirit, and when in all his life had he ever seen that same tenderness
+in Harry's eyes? What had he not missed?
+
+“Harry, may I make a suggestion?” he asked almost apologetically. The
+young fellow turned his head in respectful attention: “Put St. George in
+my carriage--it is much more comfortable--and let me drive him home--my
+eyes are quite good in the daytime, after I get used to the light, and
+I am still able to take the road. Then put your servant and mine in the
+hack with St. George's and your own luggage.”
+
+“Capital idea!” cried Harry enthusiastically “I never thought of it!
+Attention company! Eyes to the front, Mr. Temple! You'll now remain on
+waiting orders until I give you permission to move, and as this may take
+some time--please hold on to him, father, until I get his chair” (they
+were already out on the landing--on the very plank where Harry had
+passed the night) “you'll go back to your quarters... Here sir, these
+are your quarters,” and Harry dragged the chair into position with his
+foot. “Down with you... that's it... and you will stay here until the
+baggage and hospital train arrives, when you'll occupy a front seat in
+the van--and there will be no grumbling or lagging behind of any kind,
+remember, or you'll get ten days in the calaboose!”
+
+
+Pawson was on the curbstone, his face shining, his semaphore arms and
+legs in action, his eyes searching the distance, when the two vehicles
+came in sight. He had heard the day boat was very late, and as there
+had been a heavy fog over night, did not worry about the delay in their
+arrival.
+
+What troubled him more was the change in Mr. Temple's appearance. He had
+gone away ruddy, erect, full of vigor and health, and here he was being
+helped out of the carriage, pale, shriveled, his eyes deep set in his
+head. His voice, though, was still strong if his legs were shaky, and
+there seemed also to be no diminution in the flow of his spirits. Wesley
+had kept that part of him intact whatever changes the climate had made.
+
+“Ah, Pawson--glad to see you!” the invalid called gaily extending
+his hand as soon as he stood erect on the sidewalk. “Back again, you
+see--these old derelicts bob up once in a while when you least expect
+them.” And he wrung his hand heartily. “So the vultures, it seems, have
+not turned up yet and made their roost in my nest. Most kind of you to
+stay home and give up your business to meet me! You know Colonel Talbot
+Rutter, of Moorlands, I presume, and Mr. Harry Rutter--Of course you do!
+Harry has told me all about your midnight meeting when you took him
+for a constable, and he took you for a thief. No--please don't laugh,
+Pawson--Mr. Rutter is the worst kind of a thief. Not only has he stolen
+my heart because of his goodness to me, but he threatens to make off
+with my body. Give me your hand, Todd. Now a little lift on that rickety
+elbow and I reckon we can make that flight of steps. I have come down
+them so many times of late with no expectation of ever mounting them
+again that it will be a novelty to be sure of staying over night. Come
+in, Talbot, and see the home of my ancestors. I am sorry the Black
+Warrior is all gone--I sent Kennedy the last bottle some time ago--pity
+that vintage didn't last forever. Do you know, Talbot, if I had my way,
+I'd have a special spigot put in the City Spring labelled 'Gift of a
+once prominent citizen,' and supply the inhabitants with 1810--something
+fit for a gentleman to drink.”
+
+They were all laughing now; the colonel carrying the pillows Todd had
+tucked behind the invalid's back, Harry a few toilet articles wrapped
+in paper, and Matthew his cane--and so the cortege crawled up the steps,
+crossed the dismantled dining-room--the colonel aghast at the change
+made in its interior since last he saw it--and so on to St. George's
+room where Todd and Jemima put him to bed.
+
+His uncle taken care of--(his father had kept on to Moorlands to tell
+his mother the good news)--Harry mounted the stairs to his old room,
+which Pawson had generously vacated.
+
+The appointments were about the same as when he left; time and poverty
+had wrought but few changes. Pawson, had moved in a few books and there
+was a night table beside the small bed with a lamp on it, showing that
+he read late; but the bureau and shabby arm-chair, and the closet,
+stripped now of the young attorney's clothes to make room for the
+wanderer's--(a scant, sorry lot)--were pretty much the same as Harry had
+found on that eventful night when he had driven in through the rain and
+storm beside his Uncle George, his father's anathemas ringing in his
+ears.
+
+Unconsciously his mind went back to the events of the day;--more
+especially to his uncle's wonderful vitality and the blissful change
+his own home-coming had wrought not only in his physique, but in his
+spirits. Then his father's shattered form, haggard face, and uncertain
+glance rose before him, and with it came the recollection of all that
+had happened during the previous hours: his father's brutal outburst
+in the small office and the marvellous effect produced upon him when he
+learned the truth from Alec's lips; his hurried departure in the gray
+dawn for the ship and his tracing him to Jemima's house. More amazing
+still was his present bearing toward himself and St. George; his
+deference to their wishes and his willingness to follow and not lead.
+Was it his ill-health that had brought about this astounding reformation
+in a man who brooked no opposition?--or had his heart really softened
+toward him so that from this on he could again call him father in the
+full meaning of the term? At this a sudden, acute pain wrenched his
+heart. Perhaps he had not been glad enough to see him--perhaps in his
+anxiety over his uncle he had failed in those little tendernesses which
+a returned prodigal should have shown the father who had held out his
+arms and asked his forgiveness. Why was he not more affected by the
+sight of his suffering. When he first saw his uncle he had not been able
+to keep the tears back--and yet his eyes were dry enough when he saw his
+father. At this he fell to wondering as to the present condition of the
+colonel's mind. What was he thinking of in that lonely drive. He must
+be nearing Moorlands by this time and Alec would meet him, and later the
+dear mother--and the whole story would be told. He could see her glad
+face--her eyes streaming tears, her heart throbbing with the joy of his
+return.
+
+
+And it is a great pity he could not have thus looked in upon the
+autocrat of Moorlands as he sat hunched up on the back seat of the
+carryall, his head bowed, the only spoken words being Matthew's cheery
+hastening of his horses. And it is even a greater pity that the son
+could not have searched as well the secret places of the man's heart:
+such clearings out of doubts and misgivings make for peace and good
+fellowship and righteousness in this world of misunderstanding.
+
+That a certain rest had come into Rutter's soul could be seen in his
+face--a peace that had not settled on his features for years--but, if
+the truth must be told, he was far from happy. Somehow the joy he had
+anticipated at the boy's home-coming had not been realized. With the
+warmth of Harry's grasp still lingering in his own and the tones of his
+voice still sounding in his ears, try as he might, he yet felt aloof
+from him--outside--far off. Something had snapped in the years they had
+been apart--something he knew could never be repaired. Where there had
+once been boyish love there was now only filial regard. Down in his
+secret soul he felt it--down in his secret soul he knew it! Worse than
+that--another had replaced him! “Come, you dear old cripple!”--he could
+hear the voice and see the love and joy in the boy's eyes as he shouted
+it out. Yes, St. George was his father now!
+
+Then his mind reverted to his former treatment of his son and for the
+hundredth time he reviewed his side of the case. What else could he have
+done and still maintain the standards of his ancestors?--the universal
+question around Kennedy Square, when obligations of blood and training
+were to be considered. After all it had only been an object lesson;
+he had fully intended to forgive him later on. When Harry was a boy he
+punished him as boys were punished; when he became a man he punished him
+as men were punished. But for St. George the plan would long since have
+worked. St. George had balked him twice--once at the club and once at
+his home in Kennedy Square, when he practically ordered him from the
+house.
+
+And yet he could not but admit--and at this he sat bolt upright in his
+seat--that even according to his own high standards both St. George and
+Harry had measured up to them! Rather than touch another penny of his
+uncle's money Harry had become an exile; rather than accept a penny from
+his enemy, St. George had become a pauper. With this view of the case
+fermenting in his mind--and he had not realized the extent of both
+sacrifices until that moment--a feeling of pride swept through him.
+It was HIS BOY and HIS FRIEND, who had measured up!--by suffering, by
+bodily weakness--by privation--by starvation! And both had manfully and
+cheerfully stood the test! It was the blood of the DeRuyters which had
+put courage into the boy; it was the blood of the cavaliers that had
+made Temple the man he was. And that old DeRuyter blood! How it had told
+in every glance of his son's eyes and every intonation of his voice! If
+he had not accumulated a fortune he would--and that before many years
+were gone. But!--and here a chill went through him. Would not this
+still further separate them, and if it did how could he restore in the
+shortest possible time the old dependence and the old confidence? His
+efforts so far had met with almost a rebuff, for Harry had shown no
+particular pleasure when he told him of his intention to put him in
+charge of the estate: he had watched his face closely for a sign of
+satisfaction, but none had come. He had really seemed more interested
+in getting St. George downstairs than in being the fourth heir of
+Moorlands--indeed, it was very evident that he had no thought for
+anybody or anything except St. George.
+
+All this the son might have known could he have sat by his father in the
+carryall on this way to Moorlands.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+
+The sudden halting of two vehicles close to the horse-block of the
+Temple Mansion--one an aristocratic carryall driven by a man in livery,
+and the other a dilapidated city hack in charge of a negro in patched
+overcoat and whitey-brown hat, the discharge of their inmates, one of
+whom was Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands carrying two pillows,
+and another a strange young man loaded down with blankets--the slow
+disembarking of a gentleman in so wretched a state of health that he
+was practically carried up the front steps by his body-servant, and the
+subsequent arrival of Dr. Teackle on the double quick--was a sight so
+unusual in and around peaceful Kennedy Square that it is not surprising
+that all sorts of reports--most of them alarming--reached the club long
+before St. George had been comfortably tucked away in bed.
+
+Various versions were afloat: “St. George was back from Wesley with a
+touch of chills and fever--” “St. George was back from Wesley with
+a load of buckshot in his right arm--” “St. George had broken his
+collar-bone riding to hounds--” etc.
+
+Richard Horn was the first to spring to his feet--it was the afternoon
+hour and the club was full--and cross the Square on the run, followed by
+Clayton, Bowman, and two or three others. These, with one accord, banged
+away on the knocker, only to be met by Dr. Teackle, who explained that
+there was nothing seriously the matter with Mr. Temple, except an attack
+of foolhardiness in coming up the bay when he should have stayed in
+bed--but even that should cause his friends no uneasiness, as he was
+still as tough as a lightwood knot, and bubbling over with good humor;
+all he needed was rest, and that he must have--so please everybody come
+to-morrow.
+
+By the next morning the widening of ripples caused by the dropping of
+a high-grade invalid into the still pool of Kennedy Square, spread
+with such force and persistency that one wavelet overflowed Kate's
+dressing-room. Indeed, it came in with Mammy Henny and her coffee.
+
+“Marse George home, honey--Ben done see Todd. Got a mis'ry in his back
+dat bad it tuk two gemmens to tote him up de steps.”
+
+“Uncle George home, and ill!”
+
+That was enough for Kate. She didn't want any coffee--she didn't want
+any toast or muffins, or hominy--she wanted her shoes and stockings
+and--Yes everything, and quick!--and would Mammy Henny call Ben and send
+him right away to Mr. Temple's and find out how her dear Uncle George
+had passed the night, and give him her dearest love and tell him she
+would come right over to see him the moment she could get into her
+clothes; and could she send anything for him to eat; and did the doctor
+think it was dangerous--? Yes--and Ben must keep on to Dr. Teackle's and
+find out if it was dangerous--and say to him that Miss Seymour wanted
+to know IMMEDIATELY, and--(Here the poor child lost her breath, she was
+dressing all the time, Mammy Henny's fingers and ears doing their best)
+“and tell Mr. Temple, too,” she rushed on, “that he must send word by
+Ben for ANYTHING and EVERYTHING he needed” (strong accent on the two
+words)... all of which was repeated through the crack of the door to
+patient Ben when he presented himself, with the additional assurance
+that he must tell Mr. Temple it wouldn't be five minutes before she
+would be with him--as she was nearly dressed, all but her hair.
+
+She was right about her good intentions, but she was wrong about the
+number of minutes necessary to carry them out. There was her morning
+gown to button, and her gaiters to lace, and her hair to be braided and
+caught up in her neck (she always wore it that way in the morning) and
+the dearest of snug bonnets--a “cabriolet” from Paris--a sort of hood,
+stiffened with wires, out of which peeped pink rosebuds quite as they
+do from a trellis--had to be put on, and the white strings tied “just
+so”--the bows flaring out and the long ends smoothed flat; and then the
+lace cape and scarf and her parasol;--all these and a dozen other little
+niceties had to be adjusted before she could trip down her father's
+stairs and out of her father's swinging gate and on through the park to
+her dear Uncle George.
+
+But when she did--and it took her all of an hour--nothing that the
+morning sun shone on was quite as lovely, and no waft of air so
+refreshing or so welcome as our beloved heroine when she burst in upon
+him.
+
+“Oh!--you dear, DEAR thing!” she cried, tossing her parasol on Pawson's
+table and stretching out her arms toward him sitting in his chair. “Oh,
+I am so sorry! Why didn't you let me know you were ill? I would have
+gone down to Wesley. Oh!--I KNEW something was the matter with you or
+you would have answered my letters.”
+
+He had struggled to his feet at the first sound of her footsteps in
+the hall, and had her in his arms long before she had finished her
+greeting;--indeed her last sentence was addressed to the collar of his
+coat against which her cheek was cushioned.
+
+“Who said I was ill?” he asked with one of his bubbling laughs when he
+got his breath.
+
+“Todd told Ben--and you ARE!--and it breaks my heart.” She was holding
+herself off now, scanning his pale face and shrunken frame--“Oh, I am so
+sorry you did not let me know!”
+
+“Todd is a chatterer, and Ben no better; I've only had a bad cold--and
+you couldn't have done me a bit of good if you had come--and now I am
+entirely well, never felt better in my life. Oh--but it's good to get
+hold of you, Kate,--and you are still the same bunch of roses. Sit down
+now and tell me all about it. I wish I had a better chair for you, my
+dear, but the place is quite dismantled, as you see. I expected to stay
+the winter when I left.”
+
+She had not given a thought to the chair or to the changes--had not even
+noticed them. That the room was stripped of its furniture prior to a
+long stay was what invariably occurred in her own house every summer:
+it was her precious uncle's pale, shrunken face and the blue veins that
+showed in the backs of his dear transparent hands which she held between
+her own, and the thin, emaciated wrists that absorbed her.
+
+“You poor, dear Uncle George!” she purred--“and nobody to look after
+you.” He had drawn up Pawson's chair and had placed her in it beside the
+one he sat in, and had then dropped slowly into his own, the better to
+hide from her his weakness--but it did not deceive her. “I'm going to
+have you put back to bed this very minute; you are not strong enough to
+sit up. Let me call Aunt Jemima.”
+
+St. George shook his head good-naturedly in denial and smoothed her
+hands with his fingers.
+
+“Call nobody and do nothing but sit beside me and let me look into your
+face and listen to your voice. I have been pretty badly shaken up; had
+two weeks of it that couldn't have been much worse--but since then I
+have been on the mend and am getting stronger every minute. I haven't
+had any medicine and I don't want any now--I just want you and--” he
+hesitated, and seeing nothing in her eyes of any future hope for Harry,
+finished the sentence, with “and one or two others to sit by me and
+cheer me up; that's better than all the doctors in the world. And now,
+first about your father and then about yourself.”
+
+“Oh, he's very well,” she rejoined absently. “He's off somewhere, went
+away two days ago. He'll be back in a week. But you must have something
+to eat--GOOD things!”--her mind still occupied with his condition. “I'm
+going to have some chicken broth made the moment I get home and it will
+be sent fresh every day: and you must eat every bit of it!”
+
+Again St. George's laugh rang out. He had let her run on--it was music
+to his ears--that he might later on find some clue on which he could
+frame a question he had been revolving in his mind ever since he heard
+her voice in the hall. He would not tell her about Harry--better wait
+until he could read her thoughts the clearer. If he could discover by
+some roundabout way that she would still refuse to see him it would be
+best not to embarrass her with any such request; especially on this her
+first visit.
+
+“Yes--I'll eat anything and everything you send me, you dear Kate--and
+many thanks to you, provided you'll come with it--you are the best broth
+for me. But you haven't answered my question--not all of it. What have
+YOU been doing since I left?”
+
+“Wondering whether you would forgive me for the rude way in which I left
+you the last time I saw you,--the night of Mr. Horn's reading, for one
+thing. I went off with Mr. Willits and never said a word to you. I wrote
+you a letter telling you how sorry I was, but you never answered it, and
+that made me more anxious than ever.”
+
+“What foolishness, Kate! I never got it, of course, or you would have
+heard from me right away. A number of my letters have gone astray of
+late. But I don't remember a thing about it, except that you walked off
+with your--” again he hesitated--“with Mr. Willits, which, of course,
+was the most natural thing for you to do in the world. How is he, by the
+way?”
+
+Kate drew back her shoulders with that quick movement common to her when
+some antagonism in her mind preceded her spoken word.
+
+“I don't know--I haven't seen him for some weeks.”
+
+St. George started in his chair: “You haven't! He isn't ill, is he?”
+
+“No, I think not,” she rejoined calmly.
+
+“Oh, then he has gone down to his father's. Yes, I remember he goes
+quite often,” he ventured.
+
+“No, I think he is still here.” Her gaze was on the window as she spoke,
+through which could be seen the tops of the trees glistening in the
+sunlight.
+
+“And you haven't seen him? Why?” asked St. George wonderingly--he was
+not sure he had heard her aright.
+
+“I told him not to come,” she replied in a positive tone.
+
+St. George settled back in his chair. Had there been a clock in the room
+its faintest tick would have rung out like a trip-hammer.
+
+“Then you have had a quarrel: he has broken his promise to you and got
+drunk again.”
+
+“No, he has never broken it; he has kept it as faithfully as Harry kept
+his.”
+
+“You don't mean, Kate, that you have broken off your engagement?”
+
+She reached over and picked up her parasol: “There never was any
+engagement. I have always felt sorry for Mr. Willits and tried my best
+to love him and couldn't--that is all. He understands it perfectly; we
+both do. It was one of the things that couldn't be.”
+
+All sorts of possibilities surged one after the other through the old
+diplomat's mind. A dim light increasing in intensity began to shine
+about him. What it meant he dared not hope. “What does your father say?”
+ he asked slowly, after a pause in which he had followed every expression
+that crossed her face.
+
+“Nothing--and it wouldn't alter the case if he did. I am the best judge
+of what is good for me.” There was a certain finality in her cadences
+that repelled all further discussion. He remembered having heard the
+same ring before.
+
+“When did all this happen?--this telling him not to come?” he persisted,
+determined to widen the inquiry. His mind was still unable to fully
+grasp the situation.
+
+“About five weeks ago. Do you want to know the very night?” She turned
+her head as she spoke and looked at him with her full, deep eyes.
+
+“Yes, if you wish me to.”
+
+“The night Mr. Horn read 'The Cricket on the Hearth,'” she answered in a
+tone of relief--as if some great crisis had marked the hour, the passing
+of which had brought her infinite peace. “I told him when I got home,
+and I have never seen him since.”
+
+For some seconds St. George did not move. He had turned from her and sat
+with his head resting on his hand, his eyes intent on the smouldering
+fire: he dare not trust himself to speak; wide ranges opened before him;
+the light had strengthened until it was blinding. Kate sat motionless,
+her hands in her lap, her eyes searching St. George's face for some
+indication of the effect of her news. Then finding him still silent and
+absorbed in his thoughts, she went on:
+
+“There was nothing else to do, Uncle George. I had done all I could to
+please my father and one or two of my friends. There was nothing against
+him--he was very kind and very considerate--but somehow I--” She paused
+and drew a long breath.
+
+“Somehow what?” demanded St. George raising his head quickly and
+studying her the closer. The situation was becoming vital now--too vital
+for any further delay.
+
+“Oh, I don't know--I couldn't love him--that's all. He has many
+excellent qualities--too many maybe,” and she smiled faintly. “You
+know I never liked people who were too good--that is, too willing to do
+everything you wanted them to do--especially men who ought really to
+be masters and--” She stopped and played with the top of her parasol,
+smoothing the knob with her palm as if the better to straighten out the
+tangle in her mind. “I expect you will think me queer, Uncle George, but
+I have come to the conclusion that I will never love anybody again--I
+am through with all that. It's very hard, you know, to mend a thing when
+it's broken. I used to say to myself that when I grew to be a woman I
+supposed I would love as any other woman seemed content to love; that
+no romance of a young girl was ever realized and that they could only be
+found in love stories. But my theories all went to pieces when I heard
+Mr. Horn that night. Dot's love for John the Carrier--I have read it so
+often since that I know the whole story by heart--Dot's love for John
+was the real thing, but May Fielding's love for Tackleton wasn't. And
+it seemed so wonderful when her lover came home and--it's foolish, I
+know--very silly--that I should have been so moved by just the reading
+of a story--but it's true. It takes only a very little to push you over
+when you are on the edge, and I had been on the edge for a long time.
+But don't let us talk about it, dear Uncle George,” she added with a
+forced smile. “I'm going to take care of you now and be a charming old
+maid with side curls and spectacles and make flannel things for the
+poor--you just wait and see what a comfort I will be.” Her lips were
+trembling, the tears crowding over the edges of her lids.
+
+St. George stretched out his hand and in his kindest voice said:
+
+“Was it the carrier and his wife, or was it the sailor boy who came back
+so fine and strong, that affected you, Kate?--and made you give up Mr.
+Willits?” He would go to the bottom now.
+
+“It was everything, Uncle George--the sweetness of it all--her pride in
+her husband--his doubts of her--her repentance; and yet she did what she
+thought was for the best; and then his forgiveness and the way he wanted
+to take her in his arms at last and she would not until she explained.
+And there was nothing really to explain--only love, and trust, and
+truth--all the time believing in him--loving him. Oh, it is cruel
+to part people--it's so mean and despicable! There are so many
+Tackletons--and the May Fieldings go to the altar and so on to their
+graves--and there is often such a very little difference between the
+two. I never gave my promise to Mr. Willits. I would not!--I could not!
+He kept hoping and waiting. He was very gentle and patient--he never
+coaxed nor pleaded, but just--Oh, Uncle George!--let me talk it all
+out--I have nobody else. I missed you so, and there was no one who could
+understand, and you wouldn't answer my letters.” She was crying softly
+to herself, her beautiful head resting on her elbow pillowed on the back
+of his chair.
+
+He leaned forward the closer: he loved this girl next best to Harry. Her
+sorrows were his own. Was it all coming out as he had hoped and prayed
+for? He could hardly restrain himself in his eagerness.
+
+“Did you miss anybody else, Kate?” There was a peculiar tenderness in
+his voice.
+
+She did not raise her head nor did she answer. St. George waited and
+repeated the question, Slipping his hand over hers, as he spoke.
+
+“It was the loneliness, Uncle George,” she replied, evading his
+inference. “I tried to forget it all, and I threw open our house and
+gave parties and dances--hardly a week but there has been something
+going on--but nothing did any good. I have been--yes--wretchedly unhappy
+and--No, it will only distress you to hear it--don't let's talk any more
+about it. I won't let you go away again. I'll go away with you if you
+don't get better soon, anywhere you say. We'll go down to the White
+Sulphur--Yes--we'll go there. The air is so bracing--it wouldn't be a
+week before all the color would come back to your cheeks and you be as
+strong as ever.”
+
+He was not listening. His mind was framing a question--one he must
+ask without committing himself or her. He was running a parallel,
+really--reading her heart by a flank movement.
+
+“Kate, dear?” He had regained his position although he still kept hold
+of her hand.
+
+“Yes, Uncle George.”
+
+“Did you write to Harry, as I asked you?”
+
+“No, it wouldn't have done any good. I have had troubles enough of my
+own without adding any to his.”
+
+“Were you afraid he would not answer it?”
+
+She lifted her head and tightened her fingers about his own, her wet
+eyes looking into his.
+
+“I was afraid of myself. I have never known my own mind and I don't know
+it now. I have played fast and loose with everybody--I can't bind up a
+broken arm and then break it again.”
+
+“Wouldn't it be better to try?” he said softly.
+
+“No, I don't think so.”
+
+St. George released her hand and settled back in his chair; his face
+grew grave. What manner of woman was this, and how could he reach the
+inner kernel of her heart? Again he raised his head and leaning forward
+took both her hands between his own.
+
+“I am going to tell you a story, Kate--one you have never heard--not
+all of it. When I was about your age--a little older perhaps, I gave
+my heart to a woman who had known me from a boy; with whom I had played
+when she was a child. I'm not going into the whole story, such things
+are always sad; nor will I tell you anything of the beginning of the
+three happy months of our betrothal nor of what caused our separation.
+I shall only tell you of the cruelty of the end. There was a
+misunderstanding--a quarrel--I begging her forgiveness on my knees. All
+the time her heart was breaking. One little word from her would have
+healed everything. Some years after that she married and her life still
+goes on. I am what you see.”
+
+Kate looked at him with swimming eyes. She dimly remembered that she
+had heard that her uncle had had a love affair in his youth and that his
+sweetheart had jilted him for a richer man, but she had never known that
+he had suffered so bitterly over it. Her heart went out to him all the
+more.
+
+“Will you tell me who it was?” She had no right to ask; but she might
+comfort him the better if she knew.
+
+“Harry's mother.”
+
+Kate dropped his hands and drew back in her seat.
+
+“You--loved--Mrs.--Rutter--and she--refused you for--Oh!--what a cruel
+thing to do! And what a fool she was. Now I know why you have been so
+good to Harry. Oh, you poor, dear Uncle George. Oh, to think that you
+of all men! Is there any one whose heart is not bruised and broken?” she
+added in a helpless tone.
+
+“Plenty of them, Kate--especially those who have been willing to stoop
+a little and so triumph. Harry has waited three years for some word from
+you; he has not asked for it, for he believes you have forgotten him;
+and then he was too much of a man to encroach upon another's rights.
+Does your breaking off with Mr. Willits alter the case in any
+way?--does it make any difference? Is this sailor boy always to be a
+wanderer--never to come home to his people and the woman he loves?”
+
+“He'll never come back to me, Uncle George,” she said with a shudder,
+dropping her eyes. “I found that out the day we talked together in the
+park, just before he left. And he's not coming home. Father got a letter
+from one of his agents who had seen him. He was looking very well and
+was going up into the mountains--I wrote you about it. I am sorry you
+didn't get the letter--but of course he has written you too.”
+
+“Suppose I should tell you that he would come back if he thought you
+would be glad to see him--glad in the old way?”
+
+Kate shook her head: “He would never come. He hates me, and I don't
+blame him. I hate myself when I think of it all.”
+
+“But if he should walk in now?”--he was very much afraid he would, and
+he was not quite ready for him yet. What he was trying to find out
+was not whether Kate would be glad to see Harry as a relief to her
+loneliness, but whether she really LOVED him.
+
+Some tone in his voice caught her ear. She turned her head quickly
+and looked at him with wondering gaze, as if she would read his inmost
+thoughts.
+
+“You mean that he is coming, Uncle George--that Harry IS coming home!”
+ she exclaimed excitedly, the color ebbing from her cheeks.
+
+“He is already here, Kate. He slept upstairs in his old room last night.
+I expect him in any minute.”
+
+“Here!--in this room!” She was on her feet in an instant, her face
+deathly pale, her whole frame shaking. Which way should she turn to
+escape? To meet him face to face would bring only excruciating pain.
+“Oh, why didn't you tell me, Uncle George!” she burst out. “I won't
+see him! I can't!--not now--not here! Let me go home--let me think!
+No--don't stop me!” and catching up her cape and parasol she was out the
+door and down the steps before he could call her back or even realize
+that she had gone.
+
+Once on the pavement she looked nervously up and down the street,
+gathered her pretty skirts tight in her hand and with the fluttered
+flight of a scared bird darted across the park, dashed through her
+swinging gate, and so on up to her bedroom.
+
+There she buried her face in Mammy Henny's lap and burst into an agony
+of tears.
+
+
+While all this had been going on upstairs another equally important
+conference was taking place in Pawson's office below, where Harry at
+Pawson's request had gone to meet Gadgem and talk over certain plans for
+his uncle's future welfare. He had missed Kate by one of those trifling
+accidents which often determine the destiny of nations and of men. Had
+he, after attending to the business of the morning--(he had been down to
+Marsh Market with Todd for supplies)--mounted the steps to see his uncle
+instead of yielding to a sudden impulse to interview Pawson first and
+his uncle afterward, he would have come upon Kate at the very moment she
+was pouring out her heart to St. George.
+
+But no such fatality or stroke of good fortune--whatever the gods had in
+store for him--took place. On the contrary he proceeded calmly to
+carry out the details of a matter of the utmost importance to all
+concerned--one in which both Pawson and Gadgem were interested--(indeed
+he had come at Pawson's suggestion to discuss its details with the
+collector and himself):--all of which the Scribe promises in all honor
+to reveal to his readers before the whole of this story is told.
+
+Harry walked straight up to Gadgem:
+
+“I am very glad to see you, Mr. Gadgem,” he said in his manly, friendly
+way. “You have been very good to my uncle, and I want to thank you both
+for him and for myself,” and he shook the little man's hand heartily.
+
+Gadgem blushed. St. George's democracy he could understand; but why this
+aristocrat--outcast as he had once been, but now again in favor--why
+this young prince, the heir to Moorlands and the first young blood of
+his time, should treat him as an equal, puzzled him; and yet, somehow,
+his heart warmed to him as he read his sincerity in his eyes and voice.
+
+“Thank you, sir--thank you very much, sir,” rejoined Gadgem, with a
+folding-camp-stool-movement, his back bent at right angles with his
+legs. “I really don't deserve it, sir. Mr. Temple is an EXtraordinary
+man, sir; the most EXtraordinary man I have ever met, sir. Give you the
+shirt off his back, sir, and go NAked himself.”
+
+“Yes, he gave it to me,” laughed Harry, greatly amused at the
+collector's effusive manner: He had never seen this side of Gadgem.
+“That, of course, you know all about--you paid the bills, I believe.”
+
+“PREcisely so, sir.” He had lengthened out now with a spiral-spring,
+cork-screw twist in his body, his index finger serving as point. “Paid
+every one of them. He never cared, sir--he GLOried in it--GLOried in
+being a pauper. UNaccountable, Mr. Rutter--Enormously unaccountable.
+Never heard of such a case; never WILL hear of such a case. So what was
+to be done, sir? Just what I may state is being done this minute
+over our heads UPstairs”: and out went the index finger. “Rest and
+REcuperation, sir--a slow--a very slow use of AVAILable assets until new
+and FURther AVAILable assets could become visible. And they are here,
+sir--have arRIVED. You may have heard, of course, of the Patapsco where
+Mr. Temple kept the largest part of his fortune.”
+
+“No, except that it about ruined everybody who had anything to do with
+it.”
+
+“Then you have heard nothing of the REsuscitation!” cried Gadgem, all
+his fingers opened like a fan, his eyebrows arched to the roots of his
+hair. “You surPRISE me! And you are really ignorant of the PHOEnix-like
+way in which it has RISen from its ashes? I said RISen, sir, because it
+is now but a dim speck in the financial sky. Nor the appointment of Mr.
+John Gorsuch as manager, ably backed by your DIStinguished father--the
+setting of the bird upon its legs--I'm speaking of the burnt bird, sir,
+the PHOEnix. I'm quite sure it was a bird--Nor the payment on the first
+of the ensuing month of some eighty per cent of the amounts due
+the ORIGinal depositors and another twenty per cent in one year
+thereafter--The cancelling of the mortgage which your most BEnevolent
+and HONorable father bought, and the sly trick of Gorsuch--letting
+Fogbin, who never turned up, become the sham tenant--and the joy--”
+
+“Hold on Mr. Gadgem--I'm not good at figures. Give me that over again
+and speak slower. Am I to understand that the bank will pay back to my
+uncle, within a day or so, three-quarters of the money they stole from
+him?”
+
+“STOLE, sir!” chided Gadgem, his outstretched forefinger wig-wagging
+a Fie! Fie! gesture of disapproval--“STOLE is not a pretty
+word--actionable, sir--DANgerously actionable--a question of the
+watch-house, and, if I might be permitted to say--a bit of COLD
+lead--Perhaps you will allow me to suggest the word 'maNIPulated,'
+sir--the money the bank maNIPulated from your confiding and
+inexperienced uncle--that is safer and it is equally EXpressive. He!
+He!”
+
+“Well, will he get the money?” cried Harry, his face lighting up, his
+interest in the outcome outweighing his amusement over Gadgem's antics
+and expressions.
+
+“He WILL, sir,” rejoined Gadgem decisively.
+
+“And you are so sure of it that you would be willing to advance one-half
+the amount if the account was turned over to you this minute?” cried
+Harry eagerly.
+
+“No sir--not one-half--ALL of it--less a TRIfling commission for my
+services of say one per cent. When you say 'this minute,' sir, I must
+reply that the brevity of the area of action becomes a trifle ACUTE,
+yes, ALARMingly acute. I haven't the money myself, sir--that is, not
+about my person--but I can get it in an hour, sir--in less time, if Mr.
+Temple is willing. That was my purpose in coming here, sir--that was
+why Mr. Pawson sent for me, sir; and it is but fair to say that you can
+thank your DIStinguished father for it all, sir--he has worked night and
+day to do it. Colonel Rutter has taken over--so I am inFORMED--I'm not
+sure, but I am inFORMED--taken over a lot of the securities himself
+so that he COULD do it. Another EXtraordinary combination, if you will
+permit me to say so--I refer to your father--a man who will show you his
+door one minute and open his pocketbook and his best bottle of wine
+for you the next,” and he plunged himself down in his seat with so
+determined a gesture that it left no question on Harry's mind that he
+intended sitting it out until daylight should there be the faintest
+possibility of his financial proposition being accepted.
+
+Harry walked to the window and gazed out on the trees. There was no
+doubt now that Mr. Temple was once more on his feet. “Uncle George will
+go now to Moorlands,” he said, decisively, in a low tone, speaking to
+himself, his heart swelling with pride at this fresh evidence of
+his father's high sense of honor--then he wheeled and addressed the
+attorney:
+
+“Shall I tell Mr. Temple this news, about the Patapsco Bank, Mr.
+Pawson?”
+
+“Yes, if you think best, Mr. Rutter. And I have another piece of good
+news. This please do not tell Mr. Temple, not yet--not until it is
+definitely settled. That old suit in Chancery has been decided, or will
+be, so I learned this morning and decided in favor of the heir. You may
+not have heard of it before, Gadgem,” and he turned to the collector,
+“but it is one of old General Dorsey Temple's left-overs. It has been
+in the courts now some forty years. When this decision is made binding,”
+ here he again faced Harry--“Mr. Temple comes in for a considerable
+share.”
+
+Gadgem jumped to his feet and snapped his fingers rapidly. Had he sat on
+a tack his rebound could not have been more sudden. This last was news
+to him.
+
+“SHORN lamb, sir!” he cried gleefully, rubbing his palms together,
+his body tied into a double bow-knot. “Gentle breezes; bread upon
+the waters! By jiminy, Mr. Rutter, if Mr. Temple could be born
+again--figuratively, sir--and I could walk in upon him as I once did,
+and find him at breakfast surrounded by all his comforts with Todd
+waiting upon him--a very good nigger is Todd, sir--an exCEPtionally
+good nigger--I'd--I'd--damn me, Mr. Rutter, I'd--well, sir, there's no
+word--but John Gadgem, sir--well, I'll be damned if he wouldn't--” and
+he began skipping about the room, both feet in the air, as if he was
+a boy of twenty instead of a thin, shambling, badly put together bill
+collector in an ill-fitting brown coat, a hat much the worse for wear,
+and a red cotton handkerchief addicted to weekly ablutions.
+
+As for Harry the glad news had cleared out wide spaces before him, such
+as he had not looked through in years; leafy vistas, with glimpses of
+sunlit meadows; shadow-flecked paths leading to manor-houses with summer
+skies beyond. He, too, was on his feet, walking restlessly up and down.
+
+Pawson and Gadgem again put their heads together, Harry stopping to
+listen. Such expressions as “Certainly,” “I think I can”: “Yes, of
+course it was there when I was last in his place,” “Better see him
+first,” caught his ear.
+
+At last he could stand it no longer. Dr. Teackle or no Dr. Teackle,
+he would go upstairs, open the door softly, and if his uncle was awake
+whisper the good news in his ear. If anybody had whispered any such
+similar good news in his ear on any one of the weary nights he had lain
+awake waiting for the dawn, or at any time of the day when he sat his
+horse, his rifle across the pommel, it would have made another man of
+him.
+
+If his uncle was awake!
+
+He was not only awake, but he was very much alive.
+
+“I've got a great piece of news for you, Uncle George!” Harry shouted
+in a rollicking tone, his joy increasing as he noted his uncle's renewed
+strength.
+
+“So have I got a great piece of news for you!” was shouted back. “Come
+in, you young rascal, and shut that door behind you. She isn't going to
+marry Willits. Thrown him over--don't want him--don't love him--can't
+love him--never did love him! She's just told me so. Whoop--hurrah! I
+Dance, you dog, before I throw this chair at you!!”
+
+There are some moments in a man's life when all language
+fails;--pantomime moments, when one stares and tries to speak and stares
+again. They were both at it--St. George waiting until Harry should
+explode, and Harry trying to get his breath, the earth opening under
+him, the skies falling all about his head.
+
+“She told you so! When!” he gasped.
+
+“Two minutes ago--you've just missed her! Where the devil have you been?
+Why didn't you come in before?”
+
+“Kate here--two minutes ago--what will I do?” Had he found himself at
+sea in an open boat with both oars adrift he could not have been more
+helpless.
+
+“DO! Catch her before she gets home! Quick!--just as you are--sailor
+clothes and all!”
+
+“But how will I know if--?”
+
+“You don't have to know! Away with you, I tell you!”
+
+And away he went--and if you will believe it, dear reader--without even
+a whisper in his uncle's ears of the good news he had come to tell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+
+Ben let him in.
+
+He came as an apparition, the old butler balancing the door in his hand,
+as if undecided what to do, trying to account for the change in the
+young man's appearance--the width of shoulders, the rough clothes, and
+the determined glance of his eye.
+
+“Fo' Gawd, it's Marse Harry!” was all he said when he could get his
+mouth open.
+
+“Yes, Ben--go and tell your mistress I am here,” and he brushed past
+him and pushed back the drawing-room door. Once inside he crossed to the
+mantel and stood with his back to the hearth, his sailor's cap in his
+hand, his eyes fixed on the door he had just closed behind him. Through
+it would come the beginning or the end of his life. Ben's noiseless
+entrance and exit a moment after, with his mistress's message neither
+raised nor depressed his hopes. He had known all along she would not
+refuse to see him: what would come after was the wall that loomed up.
+
+She had not hesitated, nor did she keep him waiting. Her eyes were still
+red with weeping, her hair partly dishevelled, when Ben found her--but
+she did not seem to care. Nor was she frightened--nor eager. She just
+lifted her cheek from Mammy Henny's caressing hand--pushed back the
+hair from her face with a movement as if she was trying to collect her
+thoughts, and without rising from her knees heard Ben's message to the
+end. Then she answered calmly:
+
+“Did you say Mr. Harry Rutter, Ben? Tell him I'll be down in a moment.”
+
+
+She entered with that same graceful movement which he loved so well--her
+head up, her face turned frankly toward him, one hand extended in
+welcome.
+
+“Uncle George told me you were back, Harry. It was very good of you to
+come,” and sank on the sofa.
+
+It had been but a few steps to him--the space between the open door and
+the hearth rug on which he stood--and it had taken her but a few seconds
+to cross it, but in that brief interval the heavens had opened above
+her. The old Harry was there--the smile--the flash in the eyes--the joy
+of seeing her--the quick movement of his hand in gracious salute; then
+there had followed a sense of his strength, of the calm poise of his
+body, of the clearness of his skin. She saw, too, how much handsomer he
+had grown,--and noted the rough sailor's clothes. How well they fitted
+his robust frame! And the clear, calm eyes and finely cut features--no
+shrinking from responsibility in that face; no faltering--the old ideal
+of her early love and the new ideal of her sailor boy--the one Richard's
+voice had conjured--welded into one personality!
+
+“I heard you had just been in to see Uncle George, Kate, and I tried to
+overtake you.”
+
+Not much: nothing in fact. Playwriters tell us that the dramatic
+situation is the thing, and that the spoken word is as unimportant
+to the play as the foot-lights--except as a means of illuminating the
+situation.
+
+“Yes--I have just left him, Harry. Uncle George looks very badly--don't
+you think so? Is there anything very serious the matter? I sent Ben to
+Dr. Teackle's, but he was not in his office.”
+
+He had moved up a chair and sat devouring every vibration of her lips,
+every glance of her wondrous eyes--all the little movements of her
+beautiful body--her dress--the way the stray strands of hair had escaped
+to her shoulders. His Kate!--and yet he dare not touch her!
+
+“No, he is not ill. He took a severe cold and only needs rest and a
+little care. I am glad you went and--” then the pent-up flood broke
+loose. “Are you glad to see me, Kate?”
+
+“I am always glad to see you, Harry--and you look so well. It has been
+nearly three years, hasn't it?” Her calmness was maddening; she spoke as
+if she was reciting a part in which she had no personal interest.
+
+“I don't know--I haven't counted--not that way. I have lain awake too
+many nights and suffered too much to count by years. I count by--”
+
+She raised her hand in protest: “Don't Harry--please don't. All the
+suffering has not been yours!” The impersonal tone was gone--there was a
+note of agony in her voice.
+
+His manner softened: “Don't think I blame you, Kate. I love you too much
+to blame you--you did right. The suffering has only done me good--I am
+a different man from the one you once knew. I see life with a wider
+vision. I know what it is to be hungry; I know, too, what it is to
+earn the bread that has kept me alive. I came home to look after Uncle
+George. When I go back I want to take him with me. I won't count the
+years nor all the suffering I have gone through if I can pay him back
+what I owe him. He stood by me when everybody else deserted me.”
+
+She winced a little at the thrust, as if he had touched some sore spot,
+sending a shiver of pain through her frame, but she did not defend
+herself.
+
+“You mustn't take him away, Harry--leave Uncle George to me,” not as if
+she demanded it--more as if she was stating a fact.
+
+“Why not? He will be another man out in Brazil--and he can live there
+like a gentleman on what he will have left--so Pawson thinks.”
+
+“Because I love him dearly--and when he is gone I have nobody left,” she
+answered in a hopeless tone.
+
+Harry hesitated, then he asked: “And so what Uncle George told me about
+Mr. Willits is true?”
+
+Kate looked at him furtively--as if afraid to read his thoughts and for
+reply bowed her head in assent.
+
+“Didn't he love you enough?” There was a certain reproach in his tone,
+as if no one could love this woman enough to satisfy her.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“What was the matter then? Was it--” He stopped--his eagerness had
+led him onto dangerous, if not discourteous, grounds. “No, you needn't
+answer--forgive me for asking--I had no right. I am not myself, Kate--I
+didn't mean to--”
+
+“Yes, I'll tell you. I told Uncle George. I didn't like him well
+enough--that's all.” All this time she was looking him calmly in the
+face. If she had done anything to be ashamed of she did not intend to
+conceal it from her former lover.
+
+“And will Uncle George take his place now that he's gone? Do you ever
+know your own heart, Kate?” There was no bitterness in his question.
+Her frankness had disarmed him of that. It was more in the nature of an
+inquiry, as if he was probing for something on which he could build a
+hope.
+
+For a brief instant she made no answer; then she said slowly and with a
+certain positiveness:
+
+“If I had I would have saved myself and you a great deal of misery.”
+
+“And Langdon Willits?”
+
+“No, he cannot complain--he does not--I promised him nothing. But I have
+been so beaten about, and I have tried so hard to do right; and it has
+all crumbled to pieces. As for you and me, Harry, let us both forget
+that we have ever had any differences. I can't bear to think that
+whenever you come home we must avoid each other. We were friends
+once--let us be friends again. It was very kind of you to come. I'm glad
+you didn't wait. Don't be bitter in your heart toward me.”
+
+Harry left his chair and settled down on the sofa beside her, and in
+pleading, tender tones said:
+
+“Kate--When was I ever bitter toward you in my heart? Look at me! Do you
+realize how I love you?--Do you know it sets me half crazy to hear you
+talk like that? I haven't come here to-day to reproach you--I have come
+to do what I can to help you, if you want my help. I told you the last
+time we talked in the park that I wouldn't stay in Kennedy Square a day
+longer even if you begged me to. That is over now; I'll do now anything
+you wish me to do; I'll go or I'll stay. I love you too much to do
+anything else.”
+
+“No, you don't love me!--you can't love me! I wouldn't let you love me
+after all the misery I have caused you! I didn't know how much until I
+began to suffer myself and saw Mr. Willits suffer. I am not worthy of
+any man's love. I will never trust myself again--I can only try to be to
+the men about me as Uncle George is to everyone. Oh, Harry!--Harry!--Why
+was I born this way--headstrong wilful--never satisfied? Why am I
+different from the other women?”
+
+He tried to take her hand, but she drew it away.
+
+“No!--not that!--not that! Let us be just as we were when--Just as we
+used to be. Sit over there where I can see you better and watch your
+face as you talk. Tell me all you have done--what you have seen and what
+sort of places you have been in. We heard from you through--”
+
+He squared his shoulders and faced her, his voice ringing clear, his
+eyes flashing: something of the old Dutch admiral was in his face.
+
+“Kate--I will have none of it! Don't talk such nonsense to me; I won't
+listen. If you don't know your own heart I know mine; you've GOT to love
+me!--you MUST love me! Look at me. In all the years I have been away
+from you I have lived the life you would have me live--every request you
+ever made of me I have carried out. I did this knowing you would never
+be my wife and you would be Willits's! I did it because you were my
+Madonna and my religion and I loved the soul of you and lived for you
+as men live to please the God they have never seen. There were days and
+nights when I never expected to see you or any one else whom I loved
+again--but you never failed--your light never went out in my heart.
+Don't you see now why you've got to love me? What was it you loved in
+me once that I haven't got now? How am I different? What do I lack?
+Look into my eyes--close--deep down--read my heart! Never, as God is my
+judge, have I done a thing since I last kissed your forehead, that you
+would have been ashamed of. Do you think, now that you are free, that I
+am going back without you? I am not that kind of a man.”
+
+She half started from her seat: “Harry!” she cried in a helpless
+tone--“you do not know what you are saying--you must not--”
+
+He leaned over and took both her hands firmly in his own.
+
+“Look at me! Tell me the truth--as you would to your God! Do you love
+me?”
+
+She made an effort to withdraw her hands, then she sank back.
+
+“I--I--don't know--” she murmured.
+
+“YOU DO--search again--way down in your heart. Go over every day we have
+lived--when we were children and played together--all that horror at
+Moorlands when I shot Willits--the night of Mrs. Cheston's ball when
+I was drunk--all the hours I have held you in my arms, my lips to
+yours--All of it--every hour of it--balance one against the other. Think
+of your loneliness--not mine--yours--and then tell me you do not know!
+You DO know! Oh, my God, Kate!--you must love me! What else would you
+want a man to do for you that I have not done?”
+
+He stretched out his arms, but she sprang to her feet and put out her
+palms as a barrier.
+
+“No. Let me tell you something. We must have no more
+misunderstandings--you must be sure--I must be sure. I have no right to
+take your heart in my hands again. It is I who have broken my faith with
+you, not you with me. I was truly your wife when I promised you here on
+the sofa that last time. I knew then that you would, perhaps, lose your
+head again, and yet I loved you so much that I could not give you up.
+Then came the night of your father's ball and all the misery, and I was
+a coward and shut myself up instead of keeping my arms around you and
+holding you up to the best that was in you, just as Uncle George begged
+me to do. And when your father turned against you and drove you from
+your home, all because you had tried to defend me from insult, I saw
+only the disgrace and did not see the man behind it; and then you went
+away and I stretched out my arms for you to come back to me and only
+your words echoed in my ears that you would never come back to me until
+you were satisfied with yourself. Then I gave up and argued it out and
+said it was all over--”
+
+He had left his seat and at every sentence had tried to take her in his
+arms, but she kept her palms toward him.
+
+“No, don't touch me! You SHALL hear me out; I must empty all my heart!
+I was lonely and heart-sore and driven half wild with doubts and what
+people said, my father worse than all of them. And Mr. Willits was kind
+and always at my beck and call--and so thoughtful and attentive--and
+I tried and tried--but I couldn't. I always had you before me--and you
+haunted me day and night, and sometimes when he would come in that door
+I used to start, hoping it might be you.”
+
+“It IS me, my darling!” he cried, springing toward her. “I don't want to
+hear any more--I must--I will--”
+
+“But you SHALL! There IS something more. It went on and on and I got so
+that I did not care, and one day I thought I would give him my promise
+and the next day all my soul rebelled against it and it was that way
+until one night Mr. Horn read aloud a story--and it all came over me and
+I saw everything plain as if it had been on a stage, and myself and you
+and Mr. Willits--and what it meant--and what would come of it--and he
+walked home with me and I told him frankly, and I have never seen him
+since. And now here is the last and you must hear it out. There is not
+a word I have said to him which I would recall--not a thing I am ashamed
+of. Your lips were the last that touched my own. There, my darling,
+it is all told. I love you with my whole heart and soul and mind and
+body--I have never loved anybody else--I have tried and tried and
+couldn't. I am so tired of thinking for myself,--so tired,--so tired.
+Take me and do with me as you will!”
+
+Again the plot is too strong for the dialogue. He had her fast in his
+arms before her confession was finished. Then the two sank on the sofa
+where she lay sobbing her heart out, he crooning over her--patting her
+cheeks, kissing away the tears from her eyelids; smoothing the strands
+of her hair with his strong, firm fingers. It was his Kate that lay in
+his grasp--close--tightly pressed--her heart beating against his, her
+warm, throbbing body next his own, her heart swept of every doubt and
+care, all her will gone.
+
+As she grew quiet she stretched up her hand, touching his cheek as if
+to reassure herself that it was really her lover. Yes! It was Harry--HER
+Harry--Harry who was dead and is alive again--to whom she had stripped
+her soul naked--and who still trusted and loved her.
+
+A little later she loosened herself from his embrace and taking his
+face in her small, white hands looked long and earnestly into his eyes,
+smoothing back the hair from his brow as she used to do; kissing him
+on the forehead, on each eyelid, and then on the mouth--one of their
+old-time caresses. Still remembering the old days, she threw back his
+coat and let her hands wander over his full-corded throat and chest
+and arms. How big and strong he had become! and how handsome he had
+grown--the boy merged into the man. And that other something! (and
+another and stronger thrill shot through her)--that other something
+which seemed to flow out of him;--that dominating force that betokened
+leadership, compelling her to follow--not the imperiousness of
+his father, brooking no opposition no matter at what cost, but the
+leadership of experience, courage, and self-reliance.
+
+With this the sense of possession swept over her. He was all her own and
+for ever! A man to lean upon; a man to be proud of; one who would listen
+and understand: to whom she could surrender her last stronghold--her
+will. And the comfort of it all; the rest, the quiet, the assurance of
+everlasting peace: she who had been so torn and buffeted and heart-sore.
+
+For many minutes she lay still from sheer happiness, thrilled by the
+warmth and pressure of his strong arms. At last, when another thought
+could squeeze itself into her mind, she said: “Won't Uncle George be
+glad, Harry?”
+
+“Yes,” he answered, releasing her just far enough to look into her
+eyes. “It will make him well. You made him very happy this morning. His
+troubles are over, I hear--he's going to get a lot of his money back.”
+
+“Oh, I'm so glad. And will we take him with us?” she asked wonderingly,
+smoothing back his hair as she spoke.
+
+“Take him where, darling?” he laughed.
+
+“To where we are going--No, you needn't laugh--I mean it. I don't care
+where we go,” and she looked at him intently. “I'll go with you anywhere
+in the world you say, and I'll start to-morrow.”
+
+He caught her again in his arms, kissed her for the hundredth time, and
+then suddenly relaxing his hold asked in assumed alarm: “And what about
+your father? What do you think he will say? He always thought me a
+madcap scapegrace--didn't he?” The memory brought up no regret. He
+didn't care a rap what the Honorable Prim thought of him.
+
+“Yes--he thinks so now,” she echoed, wondering how anybody could have
+formed any such ideas of her Harry.
+
+“Well, he will get over it when I talk with him about his coffee people.
+Some of his agents out there want looking after.”
+
+“Oh!--how lovely, my precious; talking coffee will be much pleasanter
+than talking me!--and yet we have got to do it somehow when he comes
+home.”
+
+And down went her head again, she nestling the closer as if terrified at
+the thought of the impending meeting; then another kiss
+followed--dozens of them--neither of them keeping count, and then--and
+then--...................................
+
+And then--Ben tapped gently and announced that dinner was served, and
+Harry stared at the moon-faced dial and saw that it was long after two
+o'clock, and wondered what in the world had become of the four hours
+that had passed since he had rushed down from his uncle's and into
+Kate's arms.
+
+And so we will leave them--playing housekeeping--Harry pulling out
+her chair, she spreading her dainty skirts and saying “Thank you, Mr.
+Rutter--” and Ben with his face in so broad a grin that it got set
+that way--Aunt Dinah, the cook, having to ask him three times “Was he
+gwineter hab a fit” before he could answer by reason of the chuckle
+which was suffocating him.
+
+
+And now as we must close the door for a brief space on the happy
+couple--never so happy in all their lives--it will be just as well for
+us to find out what the mischief is going on at the club--for there is
+something going on--and that of unusual importance.
+
+Everybody is out on the front steps. Old Bowdoin is craning his short
+neck, and Judge Pancoast is saying that it is impossible and then
+instatly changing his mind, saying: “By jove it is!”--and Richard
+Horn and Warfield and Murdoch are leaning over the balcony rail still
+unconvinced and old Harding is pounding his fat thigh with his pudgy
+hand in ill-concealed delight.
+
+Yes--there is no doubt of it--hasn't been any doubt of it since the
+judge shouted out the glad tidings which emptied every chair in the
+club: Across the park, beyond the rickety, vine-covered fence and close
+beside the Temple Mansion, stands a four-in-hand, the afternoon sun
+flashing from the silver mountings of the harness and glinting on the
+polished body and wheels of the coach. Then a crack of the whip, a wind
+of the horn, and they are off--the leaders stretching the traces, two
+men on the box, two grooms in the rear. Hurrah! Well, by thunder, who
+would have believed it--that's Temple inside on the back seat! “There
+he is waving his hand and Todd is with him. And yes! Why of course it's
+Rutter! See him clear that curb! Not a man in this county can drive like
+that but Talbot.”
+
+Round they come--the colonel straight as a whip--dusty-brown
+overcoat, flowers in his buttonhole--bell-crowned hat, brown driving
+gloves--perfectly appointed, even if he is a trifle pale and half blind.
+More horn--a long joyous note now, as if they were heralding the peace
+of the world, the colonel bowing like a grand duke as he passes the
+assembled crowd--a gathering of the reins together, a sudden pull-up
+at Seymours', everybody on the front porch--Kate peeping over Harry's
+shoulder--and last and best of all, St. George's cheery voice ringing
+out:
+
+“Where are you two sweethearts!” Not a weak note anywhere; regular
+fog-horn of a voice blown to help shipwrecked mariners.
+
+“All aboard for Moorlands, you turtle-doves--never mind your clothes,
+Kate--nor you either, Harry. Your father will send for them later. Up
+with you.”
+
+“All true, Harry,” called back the colonel from the top of the coach
+(nobody alighted but the grooms--there wasn't time--) “Your mother
+wouldn't wait another hour and sent me for you, and Teackle said St.
+George could go, and we bundled him up and brought him along and you are
+all going to stay a month. No, don't wait a minute, Kate; I want to get
+home before dark. One of my men will be in with the carryall and bring
+out your mammy and your clothes and whatever you want. Your father is
+away I hear, and so nobody will miss you. Get your heavy driving coat,
+my dear; I brought one of mine in for Harry--it will be cold before we
+get home. Matthew, your eyes are better than mine, get down and see
+what the devil is the matter with that horse. No, it's all right--the
+check-rein bothered him.”
+
+And so ended the day that had been so happily begun, and the night was
+no less joyful with the mother's arms about her beloved boy and Kate
+on a stool beside her and Talbot and St. George deep in certain
+vintages--or perhaps certain vintages deep in Talbot and St.
+George--especially that particular and peculiar old Madeira of 1800,
+which his friend Mr. Jefferson had sent him from Monticello, and which
+was never served except to some such distinguished guest as his highly
+esteemed and well-beloved friend of many years, St. George Wilmot Temple
+of Kennedy Square.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+
+It would be delightful to describe the happy days at Moorlands during
+St. George's convalescence, when the love-life of Harry and Kate was
+one long, uninterrupted, joyous dream. When mother, father, and son were
+again united--what a meeting was that, once she got her arms around
+her son's neck and held him close and wept her heart out in
+thankfulness!--and the life of the old-time past was revived--a life
+softened and made restful and kept glad by the lessons all had learned.
+And it would be more delightful still to carry the record of these
+charming hours far into the summer had not St. George, eager to be under
+his own roof in Kennedy Square, declared he could stay no longer.
+
+Not that his welcome had grown less warm. He and his host had long since
+unravelled all their difficulties, the last knot having been cut the
+afternoon the colonel, urged on by Harry's mother--his disappointment
+over his sons's coldness set at rest by her pleadings--had driven into
+town for Harry in his coach, as has been said, and swept the whole
+party, including St. George, out to Moorlands.
+
+Various unrelated causes had brought about this much-to-be-desired
+result, the most important being the news of the bank's revival, which
+Harry, in his mad haste to overtake Kate, had forgotten to tell his
+uncle, and which St. George learned half an hour later from Pawson,
+together with a full account of what the colonel had done to bring about
+the happy result--a bit of information which so affected Temple that,
+when the coach with the colonel on the box had whirled up, he, weak
+as he was, had struggled to the front door, both hands held out, in
+welcome.
+
+“Talbot--old fellow,” he had said with a tear in his voice, “I have
+misunderstood you and I beg your pardon. You've behaved like a man, and
+I thank you from the bottom of my heart!”
+
+At which the stern old aristocrat had replied, as he took St. George's
+two hands in his: “Let us forget all about it, St. George. I made a
+damned fool of myself. We all get too cocky sometimes.”
+
+Then there had followed--the colonel listening with bated breath--St.
+George's account of Kate's confession and Harry's sudden exit, Rutter's
+face brightening as it had not done for years when he learned that Harry
+had not yet returned from the Seymours', the day's joy being capped by
+the arrival of Dr. Teackle, who had given his permission with an “All
+right--the afternoon is fine and the air will do Mr. Temple a world of
+good,” and so St. George was bundled up and the reader knows the rest.
+
+Later on--at Moorlands of course--the colonel, whose eyes were getting
+better by the day and Gorsuch whose face was now one round
+continuous smile, got to work, and had a heart-to-heart--or rather a
+pocket-to-pocket talk--which was quite different in those days from what
+it would be now--after which both Kate and Harry threw to the winds
+all thoughts of Rio and the country contiguous thereto, and determined
+instead to settle down at Moorlands. And then a great big iron door sunk
+in a brick vault was swung wide and certain leather-bound books were
+brought out--and particularly a sum of money which Harry duly handed
+over to Pawson the next time he drove to town--(twice a week now)--and
+which, when recounted, balanced to a cent the total of the bills which
+Pawson had paid three years before, with interest added, a list of
+which the attorney still kept in his private drawer with certain other
+valuable papers tied with red tape, marked “St. G. W. T.” And still
+later on--within a week--there had come the news of the final settlement
+of the long-disputed lawsuit with St. George as principal residuary
+legatee--and so our long-suffering hero was once more placed upon his
+financial legs: the only way he could have been placed upon them or
+would have been placed upon them--a fact very well known to every one
+who had tried to help him, his philosophy being that one dollar borrowed
+is two dollars owed--the difference being a man's self-respect.
+
+And it is truly marvellous what this change in his fortunes
+accomplished. His slack body rounded out; his sunken cheeks plumped
+up until every crease and crack were gone, his color regained its
+freshness, his eyes their brilliancy; his legs took on their old-time
+spring and lightness--and a wonderful pair of stand-bys, or stand-ups,
+or stand-arounds they were as legs go--that is legs of a man of
+fifty-five.
+
+And they were never idle, these legs: there was no sitting cross-legged
+in a chair for St. George: he was not constructed along those lines.
+Hardly a week had passed before he had them across Spitfire's mate; had
+ridden to hounds; danced a minuet with Harry and Kate; walked half-way
+to Kennedy Square and back--they thought he was going to walk all the
+way and headed him off just in time; and best of all--(and this is
+worthy of special mention)--had slipped them into the lower section of
+a suit of clothes--and these his own, although he had not yet paid for
+them--the colonel having liquidated their cost. These trousers, it is
+just as well to state, had arrived months before from Poole, along with
+a suit of Rutter's and the colonel had forwarded a draft for the
+whole amount without examining the contents, until Alec had called his
+attention to the absurd width of the legs--and the ridiculous spread of
+the seat. My Lord of Moorlands, after the scene in the Temple Mansion,
+dared not send them in to St. George, and they had accordingly lain ever
+since on top of his wardrobe with Alec as chief of the Moth Department.
+St. George, on his arrival, found them folded carefully and placed on
+a chair--Todd chief valet. Whereupon there had been a good-natured row
+when our man of fashion appeared at breakfast rigged out in all his
+finery, everybody clapping their hands and saying how handsome he
+looked--St. George in reply denouncing Talbot as a brigand of a Brummel
+who had stolen his clothes, tried to wear them, and then when out of
+fashion thrown them back on his hands.
+
+All these, and a thousand other delightful things, it would, I say, be
+eminently worth while to dilate upon--(including a series of whoops and
+hand-springs which Todd threw against the rear wall of the big kitchen
+five seconds after Alec had told him of the discomfiture of “dat
+red-haided gemman,” and of Marse Harry's good fortune)--were it not that
+certain mysterious happenings are taking place inside and out of the
+Temple house in Kennedy Square--happenings exciting universal comment,
+and of such transcendent importance that the Scribe is compelled, much
+against his will--for the present installment is entirely too short--to
+confine their telling to a special chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+
+For some time back, then be it said, various strollers unfamiliar with
+the neighbors or the neighborhood of Kennedy Square, poor benighted folk
+who knew nothing of the events set down in the preceding chapters, had
+nodded knowingly to each other or shaken their pates deprecatingly over
+the passing of “another old landmark.”
+
+Some of these had gone so far as to say that the cause could be found in
+the fact that Lawyer Temple had run through what little money his father
+and grandmother had left him; additional wise-acres were of the opinion
+that some out-of-town folks had bought the place and were trying to prop
+it up so it wouldn't tumble into the street, while one, more facetious
+than the others, had claimed that it was no wonder it was falling down,
+since the only new thing Temple had put upon it was a heavy mortgage.
+
+The immediate neighbors, however,--the friends of the house--had smiled
+and passed on. They had no such forebodings. On the contrary nothing so
+diverting--nothing so enchanting--had happened around Kennedy Square
+in years. In fact, when one of these humorists began speaking about
+it, every listener heard the story in a broad grin. Some of the more
+hilarious even nudged each other in the waist-coats and ordered another
+round of toddies--for two or three, or even five, if there were that
+number of enthusiasts about the club tables. When they were asked what
+it was all about they invariably shook their heads, winked, and kept
+still--that is, if the question were put by some one outside the magic
+circle of Kennedy Square.
+
+All the general public knew was that men with bricks in hods had been
+seen staggering up the old staircase with its spindle banisters and
+mahogany rail; that additional operatives had been discovered clinging
+to the slanting roof long enough to pass up to further experts grouped
+about the chimneys small rolls of tin and big bundles of shingles; that
+plasterers in white caps and aprons, with mortar-boards in one hand and
+trowels in the other, had been seen chinking up cracks; while any number
+of painters, carpenters, and locksmiths were working away for dear life
+all over the place from Aunt Jemima's kitchen to Todd's bunk under the
+roof.
+
+In addition to all this curious wagons had been seen to back up to the
+curb, from which had been taken various odd-looking bundles; these were
+laid on the dining-room floor, a collection of paint pots, brushes, and
+wads of putty being pushed aside to give them room--and with some haste
+too, for every one seemed to be working overtime.
+
+As to what went on inside the mansion itself not the most inquisitive
+could fathom: no one being permitted to peer even into Pawson's office,
+where so large a collection of household goods and gods were sprawled,
+heaped, and hung, that it looked as if there had been a fire in the
+neighborhood, and this room the only shelter for miles around. Even
+Pawson's law books were completely hidden by the overflow and so
+were the tables, chairs, and shelves, together with the two wide
+window-sills.
+
+Nor did it seem to matter very much to the young attorney as to how or
+at what hours of the day or night these several articles arrived. Often
+quite late in the evening--and this happened more than once--an old
+fellow, pinched and wheezy, would sneak in, uncover a mysterious object
+wrapped in a square of stringy calico, fumble in his pocket for a scrap
+of paper, put his name at the bottom of it, and sneak out again five,
+ten, or twenty dollars better off. Once, as late as eleven o'clock, a
+fattish gentleman with a hooked nose and a positive dialect, assisted
+another stout member of his race to slide a very large object from out
+the tail of a cart. Whereupon there had been an interchange of wisps of
+paper between Pawson and the fatter of the two men, the late visitors
+bowing and smiling until they reached a street lantern where they
+divided a roll of bank-notes between them.
+
+And the delight that Pawson and Gadgem took in it all!--assorting,
+verifying, checking off--slapping each other's backs in glee when some
+doubtful find was made certain, and growing even more excited on the
+days when Harry and Kate would drive or ride in from Moorlands--almost
+every day of late--tie the horse and carry-all, or both saddle-horses,
+to St. George's tree-boxes, and at once buckle on their armor.
+
+This, rendered into common prose, meant that Harry, after a prolonged
+consultation with Pawson and Gadgem, would shed his outer coat, the
+spring being now far advanced, blossoms out and the weather warm--and
+that Kate would tuck her petticoats clear of her dear little feet and
+go pattering round, her sleeves rolled up as far as they would go, her
+beautiful arms bare almost to her shoulders--her hair smothered in a
+brown barege veil to keep out the dust--the most bewitching parlor-maid
+you or anybody else ever laid eyes on. Then would follow such a carrying
+up of full baskets and carrying down of empty ones; such a spreading of
+carpets and rugs; such an arranging of china and glass; such a placing
+of andirons, fenders, shovels, tongs, and bellows; hanging of pictures,
+curtains, and mirrors--old and new; moving in of sofas, chairs, and
+rockers; making up of beds with fluted frills on the pillows--a silk
+patchwork quilt on St. George's bed and cotton counterpanes for Jemima
+and Todd!
+
+And the secrecy maintained by everybody! Pawson might have been stone
+deaf and entirely blind for all the information you could twist out of
+him--and a lot of people tried. And as to Gadgem--the dumbest oyster in
+Cherrystone Creek was a veritable magpie when it came to his giving the
+precise reason why the Temple Mansion was being restored from
+top to bottom and why all its old furniture, fittings, and
+trappings--(brand-new ones when they couldn't be found in the pawn shops
+or elsewhere)--were being gathered together within its four walls. When
+anybody asked Kate--and plenty of people did--she would throw her head
+back and laugh so loud and so merrily and so musically, that you would
+have thought all the birds in Kennedy Square park were still welcoming
+the spring. When you asked Harry he would smile and wink and perhaps
+keep on whispering to Pawson or Gadgem whose eyes were glued to a list
+which had its abiding place in Pawson's top drawer.
+
+Outside of these four conspirators--yes, six--for both Todd and Jemima
+were in it, only a very few were aware of what was really being done.
+The colonel of course knew, and so did Harry's mother--and so did old
+Alec who had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from snickering
+out loud at the breakfast table when he accidentally overheard what
+was going on--an unpardonable offence--(not the listening, but the
+laughing). In fact everybody in the big house at Moorlands knew, for
+Alec spread it broadcast in the kitchen and cabins--everybody EXCEPT ST.
+GEORGE.
+
+Not a word reached St. George--not a syllable. No one of the house
+servants would have spoiled the fun, and certainly no one of the great
+folks. It was only when his visit to Moorlands was over and he had
+driven into town and had walked up his own front steps, that the true
+situation in all its glory and brilliancy dawned upon him.
+
+The polished knobs, knocker, and the perfect level and whiteness of the
+marble steps first caught his eye; then the door swung open and Jemima
+in white apron and bandanna stood bowing to the floor, Todd straight as
+a ramrod in a new livery and a grin on his face that cut it in two, with
+Kate and Harry hidden behind them, suffocating from suppressed laughter.
+
+“Why, you dear Jemima! Howdy--... Why, who the devil sent that old
+table back, Todd, and the hall rack and--What!” Here he entered the
+dining-room. Everything was as he remembered it in the old days. “Harry!
+Kate!--Why--” then he broke down and dropped into a chair, his eyes
+still roaming around the room taking in every object, even the loving
+cup, which Mr. Kennedy had made a personal point of buying back from
+the French secretary, who was gracious enough to part with it when
+he learned the story of its enforced sale--each and every one of
+them--ready to spring forward from its place to welcome him!
+
+“So this,” he stammered out--“is what you have kept me up at Moorlands
+for, is it? You never say a word to me--and--Oh, you children!--you
+children! Todd, did you ever see anything like it?--my guns--and the
+loving cup--and the clock, and--Come here you two blessed things and
+let me get my arms around you! Kiss me, Kate--and Harry, my son--give
+me your hand. No, don't say a word--don't mind me--I'm all knocked out
+and--”
+
+Down went his face in his hands and he in a heap in the chair; then he
+stiffened and gave a little shiver to his elbows in the effort to keep
+himself from going completely to pieces, and scrambled to his feet
+again, one arm around Kate's neck, his free hand in Harry's.
+
+“Take me everywhere and show me everything. Todd, go and find Mr. Pawson
+and see if Mr. Gadgem is anywhere around; they've had something to do
+with this”--here his eyes took in Todd--“You damned scoundrel, who the
+devil rigged you out in that new suit?”
+
+“Marse Harry done sont me to de tailor. See dem buttons?--but dey
+ain't nuthin' to what's on the top shelf--you'll bust yo'self wide open
+a-laughin', Marse George, when ye sees what's in dar--you gotter come
+wid me--please Mistis an' Marse Harry, you come too. Dis way--”
+
+Todd was full to bursting. Had his grin been half an inch wider his ears
+would have dropped off.
+
+“An' fore ye look at dem shelves der's annuder thing I gotter tell
+ye;--an' dat is dat the dogs--all fo' oh em is comin' in the mawnin'.
+Mister Floyd's coach-man done tole me so,” and with a jerk and a whoop,
+completely ignoring his master's exclamation of joy over the return
+of his beloved setters, the darky threw back the door of the little
+cubby-hole of a room where the Black Warrior and his brethren had once
+rested in peace, and pointed to a row of erect black bottles backed by
+another of recumbent ones.
+
+“Look at dat wine, will ye, Marse George,” he shouted, “all racked up on
+dern shelves? Dat come f'om Mister Talbot Rutter wid dis yere cyard--”
+ and he handed it out.
+
+St. George reached over, took it from his hand, and read it aloud:
+
+“With the compliments of an old friend, who sends you herewith a few
+bottles of the Jefferson and some Sercial and old Port--and a basket or
+two of Royal Brown Sherry--nothing like your own, but the best he could
+scare up.”
+
+Soon the newly polished and replated knocker began to get in its
+liveliest work: “Mrs. Richard Horn's compliments, and would St. George
+be pleased to accept a basket of Maryland biscuit and a sallylunn
+just out of the oven.” Mrs. Bowdoin's compliments with three brace of
+ducks--“a little late in the season, my dear St. George, but they
+are just up from Currytuck where Mr. Bowdoin has had extremely good
+luck--for Mr. Bowdoin.” “Mrs. Cheston's congratulations, and would Mr.
+Temple do her the honor of placing on his sideboard an old Accomack
+County ham which her cook had baked that morning and which should have
+all the charm and flavor of the State which had given him birth--”
+ and last a huge basket of spring roses from Miss Virginia Clendenning,
+accompanied by a card bearing the inscription--“You don't deserve them,
+you renegade,” and signed--“Your deserted and heart-broken sweetheart.”
+ All of which were duly spread out on the sideboard, together with one
+lone bottle to which was attached an envelope.
+
+Before the day was over half the club had called--Richard acting master
+of ceremonies--Kate and old Prim--(he seemed perfectly contented with
+the way everything had turned out)--doing the honors with St. George.
+Pawson had also put in an appearance and been publicly thanked--a mark
+of St. George's confidence and esteem which doubled his practice before
+the year was out, and Gadgem--
+
+No, Gadgem did not put in an appearance. Gadgem got as far as the hall
+and looked in, and, seeing all the great people thronging about St.
+George, would have sneaked out again to await some more favorable
+occasion had not Harry's sharp eyes discovered the top of his scraggly
+head over the shoulders of some others, and darted towards him, and when
+he couldn't be made to budge, had beckoned to St. George, who came on
+a run and shook Gadgem's hand so heartily and thanked him in so loud
+a voice--(everybody in the hall heard him)--that he could only
+sputter--“Didn't do a thing, sir--no, sir--and if I--” and then,
+overwhelmed, shot out of the door and down the steps and into Pawson's
+office where he stood panting, saying to himself--“I'll be tuckered if
+I ain't happier than I--yes--by Jingo, I am. JIMminy-CRIMminy what a man
+he is!”
+
+And so the day passed and the night came and the neighbors took their
+leave, and Harry escorted Kate back to Seymours' and the tired knocker
+gave out and fell asleep, and at last Todd said good-night and stole
+down to Jemima, and St. George found himself once more in his easy
+chair, his head in his hand, his eyes fixed on the dead coals of a past
+fire.
+
+As the echo of Todd's steps faded away and he began to realize that
+he was alone, there crept over him for the first time in years the
+comforting sense that he was once more under his own roof--his again and
+all that it covered--all that he loved; even his beloved dogs. He left
+his chair and with a quick indrawing of his breath, as if he had just
+sniffed the air from some open sea, stretched himself to his full
+height. There he stood looking about him, his shapely fingers patting
+his chest; his eyes wandering over the room, first with a sweeping
+glance, and then resting on each separate object as it nodded to him
+under the glow of the candles.
+
+He had come into his possessions once more. Not that the very belongings
+made so much difference as his sense of pride in their ownership. They
+had, too, in a certain way regained for him his freedom--freedom to go
+and come and do as he pleased untrammelled by makeshifts and humiliating
+exposures and concealments. Best of all, they had given him back
+his courage, bracing the inner man, strengthening his beliefs in his
+traditions and in the things that his race and blood stood for.
+
+Then as a flash of lightning reveals from out black darkness the
+recurrent waves of a troubled sea, there rushed over him the roll and
+surge of the events which had led up to his rehabilitation. Suddenly a
+feeling of intense humiliation and profound gratitude swept through him.
+He raised his arms, covered his face with his hands, and stood swaying;
+forcing back his tears; muttering to himself: “How good they have
+been--how good, how good! All mine once more--wonderful--wonderful!”
+ With a resolute bracing of his shoulders and a brave lift of his chin,
+he began a tour of the room, stopping before each one of his beloved
+heirlooms and treasures--his precious gun that Gadgem had given up--(the
+collector coveted it badly as a souvenir, and got it the next day from
+St. George, with his compliments)--the famous silver loving cup with
+an extra polish Kirk had given it; his punch bowl--scarf rings and
+knick-knacks and the furniture and hangings of various kinds. At last he
+reached the sideboard, and bending over reread the several cards
+affixed to the different donations--Mrs. Cheston's, Mrs. Horn's, Miss
+Clendenning's, and the others. His eye now fell on the lone bottle--this
+he had not heretofore noticed--and the note bearing Mr. Kennedy's
+signature. “I send you back, St. George, that last bottle of old
+Madeira, the Black Warrior of 1810--the one you gave me and which we
+were to share together. I hadn't the heart to drink my half without
+you and so here is the whole and my warmest congratulations on your
+home-coming and long life to you!”
+
+Picking up the quaint bottle, he passed his hand tenderly over its
+crusted surface, paused for an instant to examine the cork, and held
+it closer to the light that he might note its condition. There he stood
+musing, his mind far away, his fingers caressing its sides. All
+the aroma of the past; all the splendor of the old regime--all its
+good-fellowship, hospitality, and courtesy--that which his soul
+loved--lay imprisoned under his hand. Suddenly one of his old-time
+quizzical smiles irradiated his face: “By Jove!--just the thing!” he
+cried joyously, “it will take the place of the one Talbot didn't open!”
+
+With a mighty jerk of the bell cord he awoke the echoes below stairs.
+
+Todd came on the double quick:
+
+“Todd.”
+
+“Yes, Marse George.”
+
+“Todd, here's the last bottle of the 1810. Lay it flat on the top shelf
+with the cork next the wall. We'll open it at Mr. Harry's wedding.”
+
+[THE END]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Kennedy Square, by F. Hopkinson Smith
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+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <title>
+      Kennedy Square, by F. Hopkinson Smith
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve">
+
+    body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify}
+    P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+    hr  { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+    .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
+    blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;}
+    .mynote    {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+    .toc       { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+    .toc2      { margin-left: 20%;}
+    div.fig    { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; }
+    div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
+    .figleft   {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;}
+    .figright  {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;}
+    .pagenum   {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal;
+               margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%;
+               text-align: right;}
+    pre        { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;}
+
+</style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kennedy Square, by F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+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: Kennedy Square
+
+Author: F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+Release Date: January 6, 2010 [EBook #4746]
+Last Updated: March 8, 2018
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KENNEDY SQUARE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Duncan Harrod, and David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      <br /><br />
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      KENNEDY SQUARE
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <br />
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      By F. Hopkinson Smith
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <blockquote>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big>
+      </p>
+      <p>
+        <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> Author's Preface </a><br /><br /> <a
+        href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>KENNEDY SQUARE</b> </a><br /> <br />
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a>
+      </p>
+      <p class="toc">
+        <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII </a>
+      </p>
+    </blockquote>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h2>
+      Author's Preface
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kennedy Square, in the late fifties, was a place of birds and trees and
+      flowers; of rude stone benches, sagging arbors smothered in vines, and
+      cool dirt paths bordered by sweet-smelling box. Giant magnolias filled the
+      air with their fragrance, and climbing roses played hide-and-seek among
+      the railings of the rotting fence. Along the shaded walks laughing boys
+      and girls romped all day, with hoop and ball, attended by old black
+      mammies in white aprons and gayly colored bandannas; while in the more
+      secluded corners, sheltered by protecting shrubs, happy lovers sat and
+      talked, tired wayfarers rested with hats off, and staid old gentlemen read
+      by the hour, their noses in their books.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Outside of all this color, perfume, and old-time charm; outside the
+      grass-line and the rickety wooden fence that framed them in, ran an uneven
+      pavement splashed with cool shadows and stained with green mould. Here, in
+      summer, the watermelon man stopped his cart; and there, in winter, upon
+      its broken bricks, old Moses unhooked his bucket of oysters and ceased for
+      a moment his droning call.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the shady side of the square, and half hidden in ivy, was a Noah's Ark
+      church, topped by a quaint belfry holding a bell that had not rung for
+      years, and faced by a clock-dial all weather-stains and cracks, around
+      which travelled a single rusty hand. In its shadow to the right lay the
+      home of the archdeacon, a stately mansion with Corinthian columns reaching
+      to the roof and surrounded by a spacious garden filled with damask roses
+      and bushes of sweet syringa. To the left crouched a row of dingy houses
+      built of brick, their iron balconies hung in flowering vines, the windows
+      glistening with panes of wavy glass purpled by age.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;On the sunny side of the square, opposite the church, were more houses,
+      high and low: one all garden, filled with broken-nosed statues hiding
+      behind still more magnolias; and another all veranda and honeysuckle, big
+      rocking-chairs and swinging hammocks; and still others with porticos
+      curtained by white jasmine or Virginia creeper.&rdquo;&mdash;From &ldquo;The Fortunes
+      of Oliver Horn.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <h1>
+      KENNEDY SQUARE
+    </h1>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER I
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      On the precise day on which this story opens&mdash;some sixty or more
+      years ago, to be exact&mdash;a bullet-headed, merry-eyed, mahogany-colored
+      young darky stood on the top step of an old-fashioned, high-stoop house,
+      craning his head up and down and across Kennedy Square in the effort to
+      get the first glimpse of his master, St. George Wilmot Temple, attorney
+      and counsellor-at-law, who was expected home from a ducking trip down the
+      bay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whether it was the need of this very diet, or whether St. George had felt
+      a sudden longing for the out-of-doors, is a matter of doubt, but certain
+      it is that some weeks before the very best shot in the county had betaken
+      himself to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, accompanied by his guns, his
+      four dogs, and two or three choice men of fashion&mdash;young bloods of
+      the time&mdash;men with whom we shall become better acquainted as these
+      chronicles go on&mdash;there to search for the toothsome and elusive
+      canvas-back for which his State was famous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That the darky was without a hat and in his shirt-sleeves, and it winter&mdash;the
+      middle of January, really&mdash;the only warm thing about him being the
+      green baize apron tied about his waist, his customary livery when
+      attending to his morning duties&mdash;did not trouble him in the least.
+      Marse George might come any minute, and he wanted to be the first to
+      welcome him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the past few weeks Todd had had the house to himself. Coal-black Aunt
+      Jemima, with her knotted pig-tails, capacious bosom, and unconfined waist,
+      forty years his senior and ten shades darker in color, it is true, looked
+      after the pots and pans, to say nothing of a particular spit on which her
+      master's joints and game were roasted; but the upper part of the house,
+      which covered the drawing-room, dining-room, bedroom, and dressing-room in
+      the rear, as well as the outside of the dwelling, including even the
+      green-painted front door and the slant of white marble steps that dropped
+      to the brick sidewalk, were the especial property of the chocolate-colored
+      darky.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To these duties was added the exclusive care of the master himself&mdash;a
+      care which gave the boy the keenest delight, and which embraced every
+      service from the drawing off of St. George Wilmot Temple's boots to the
+      shortening of that gentleman's slightly gray hair; the supervision of his
+      linen, clothes, and table, with such side issues as the custody of his
+      well-stocked cellar, to say nothing of the compounding of various
+      combinations, sweet, sour, and strong, the betrayal of whose secrets would
+      have cost the darky his place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Place&rdquo; is the word, for Todd was not St. George's slave, but the property
+      of a well-born, if slightly impoverished, gentleman who lived on the
+      Eastern Shore, and whose chief source of income was the hiring out to his
+      friends and acquaintances of just such likely young darkies as Todd&mdash;a
+      custom common to the impecunious of those days.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As Mr. Temple, however, did not come under either one of the
+      above-mentioned classes&mdash;the &ldquo;slightly impoverished gentleman&rdquo; never
+      having laid eyes on him in his life&mdash;the negotiations had to be
+      conducted with a certain formality. Todd had therefore, on his arrival,
+      unpinned from the inside of his jacket a portentous document signed with
+      his owner's name and sealed with a red wafer, which after such felicitous
+      phrases as&mdash;&ldquo;I have the distinguished honor,&rdquo; etc.&mdash;gave the
+      boy's age (21), weight (140 pounds), and height (5 feet 10 inches)&mdash;all
+      valuable data for identification in case the chattel conceived a notion of
+      moving further north (an unnecessary precaution in Todd's case). To this
+      was added the further information that the boy had been raised under his
+      master's heels, that he therefore knew his pedigree, and that his sole and
+      only reason for sparing him from his own immediate service was his own
+      poverty and the fact that while under St. George's care the boy could
+      learn how &ldquo;to wait on quality.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the house itself&mdash;the &ldquo;Temple Mansion,&rdquo; as it was called&mdash;that
+      was as much a part of Kennedy Square as the giant magnolias gracing the
+      park, or the Noah's Ark church, with its quaint belfry and cracked bell,
+      which faced its shady walks. Nobody, of course, remembered how long it had
+      been built&mdash;that is, nobody then alive&mdash;I mean the very date.
+      Such authorities as Major Clayton were positive that the bricks had been
+      brought from Holland; while Richard Horn, the rising young scientist, was
+      sure that all the iron and brass work outside were the product of
+      Sheffield; but in what year they had all been put together had always been
+      a disputed question.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That, however, which was certain and beyond doubt, was that St. George's
+      father, old General Dorsey Temple, had purchased the property near the
+      close of the preceding century; that he had, with his characteristic
+      vehemence, pushed up the roof, thrust in two dormer windows, and smashed
+      out the rear wall, thus enlarging the dining-room and giving increased
+      space for a glass-covered porch ending in a broad flight of wooden steps
+      descending to a rose-garden surrounded by a high brick wall; that thus
+      encouraged he had widened the fireplaces, wainscoted the hall, built a new
+      mahogany spider-web staircase leading to his library on the second floor,
+      and had otherwise disported himself after the manner of a man who, having
+      suddenly fallen heir to a big pot of money, had ever after continued
+      oblivious to the fact that the more holes he punched in its bottom the
+      less water would spill over its top. The alterations complete, balls,
+      routs, and dinners followed to such distinguished people as Count
+      Rochambeau, the Marquis de Castellux, Marquis de Lafayette, and other high
+      dignitaries, coming-of-age parties for the young bloods&mdash;quite
+      English in his tastes was the old gentleman&mdash;not to mention many
+      other extravagances which were still discussed by the gossips of the day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the general's death&mdash;it had occurred some twenty years before&mdash;the
+      expected had happened. Not only was the pot nearly empty, but the various
+      drains which it had sustained had so undermined the family rent-roll that
+      an equally disastrous effect had been produced on the mansion itself (one
+      of the few pieces of property, by the way, that the father had left to his
+      only son and heir unencumbered, with the exception of a suit in chancery
+      from which nobody ever expected a penny), the only dry spots in St.
+      George's finances being the few ground rents remaining from his
+      grandmother's legacy and the little he could pick up at the law.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that certain changes and
+      deteriorations had taken place inside and out of the historic building&mdash;changes
+      which never in the slightest degree affected the even-tempered St. George,
+      who had retained his own private apartments regardless of the rest of the
+      house&mdash;but changes which, in all justice to the irascible old
+      spendthrift, would have lifted that gentleman out of his grave could he
+      have realized their effect and extent. What a shock, for instance, would
+      the most punctilious man of his time have received when he found his front
+      basement rented for a law office, to say nothing of a disreputable tin
+      sign nailed to a shutter&mdash;where in the olden time he and his cronies
+      had toasted their shins before blazing logs, the toddies kept hot on the
+      hearth! And what a row would he have raised had he known that the
+      rose-garden was entirely neglected and given over to the dogs and their
+      kennels; the library in the second story stripped of its books and turned
+      into a guest-chamber, and the books themselves consigned to the basement;
+      the oak-panelled dining-room transformed into a bedchamber for St. George,
+      and the white-and-gold drawing-room fronting the street reduced to a mere
+      living-room where his son and heir made merry with his friends! And then
+      the shrinkages all about! When a room could be dispensed with, it was
+      locked up. When a shingle broke loose, it stayed loose; and so did the
+      bricks capping the chimneys, and the leaky rain-spouts that spattered the
+      dingy bricks, as well as the cracks and crannies that marred the ceilings
+      and walls.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet so great was Todd's care over the outside fittings of the house&mdash;details
+      which were necessarily in evidence, and which determined at a glance the
+      quality of the folks inside&mdash;that these several crumblings,
+      shake-downs, and shrinkages were seldom noticed by the passer-by. The old
+      adage that a well-brushed hat, a clean collar, polished shoes, and
+      immaculate gloves&mdash;all terminal details&mdash;make the well-dressed
+      man, no matter how shabby or how ill-fitting his intermediate apparel,
+      applied, according to Todd's standards, to houses as well as Brummels. He
+      it was who soused the windows of purple glass, polished the brass knobs,
+      rubbed bright the brass knocker and brass balls at the top and bottom of
+      the delightful iron railings, to say nothing of the white marble steps,
+      which he attacked with a slab of sandstone and cake of fuller's-earth,
+      bringing them to so high a state of perfection that one wanted to
+      apologize for stepping on them. Thus it was that the weather-beaten
+      rainspouts, stained bricks, sagging roof, and blistered window-sashes were
+      no longer in evidence. Indeed, their very shabbiness so enhanced the
+      brilliancy of Todd's handiwork that the most casual passers-by were
+      convinced at a glance that gentlefolk lived within.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this particular morning, then, Todd had spent most of the time since
+      daylight&mdash;it was now eight o'clock&mdash;in the effort to descry his
+      master making his way along the street, either afoot or by some
+      conveyance, his eyes dancing, his ears alert as a rabbit's, his restless
+      feet marking the limit of his eagerness. In his impatience he had
+      practised every step known to darkydom in single and double shuffle; had
+      patted juba on one and both knees, keeping time with his heels to the
+      rhythm; had slid down and climbed up the railings a dozen times, his eyes
+      on the turn in the street, and had otherwise conducted himself as would
+      any other boy, black or white, who was at his wits' end to know what to do
+      with the next second of his time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Jemima had listened to the racket until she had lost all patience,
+      and at last threw up the basement window:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go in an' shet dat do'&mdash;'fo' I come up dar an' smack ye&mdash;'nough
+      ter make a body deef ter hear ye,&rdquo; she called, her black shining face
+      dividing the curtains. &ldquo;How you know he's a-comin'?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd leaned over the railing and peered down: &ldquo;Mister Harry Rutter done
+      tol' me&mdash;said dey all 's a-comin'&mdash;de jedge an' Doctor Teackle
+      an' Marse George an' de hull kit an' bilin'. Dey's been gone mos' two
+      weeks now,&mdash;dey's a-comin' I tell ye&mdash;be yere any minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I b'liebe dat when I sees it. Fool nigger like you b'liebe anything. You
+      better go inside 'fo' you catch yo' dea'f. I gin ye fair warnin' right now
+      dat I ain't gwineter nuss ye,&mdash;d'ye yere?&mdash;standin' out dar like
+      a tarr-pin wid yo' haid out. Go in I tell ye!&rdquo; and she shut the window
+      with a bang and made her way to the kitchen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd kept up his double shuffle with everything going&mdash;hands, feet,
+      and knees&mdash;thrashed his arms about his chest and back to keep up the
+      circulation and with a final grimace in the direction of the old cook
+      maintained his watch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I spec's it's de fog dat's kep' 'em,&rdquo; he muttered anxiously, his feet
+      still in action. &ldquo;Dat bay boat's mos' allus late,&mdash;can't tell when
+      she'll git in. Only las' week&mdash;Golly!&mdash;dar he is&mdash;DAT'S
+      HIM!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A mud-bespattered gig was swinging around the corner into the Square, and
+      with a swerve in its course was heading to where Todd stood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy sprang down the steps:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yere he is, Aunt Jemima!&rdquo; he shouted, as if the old cook could have heard
+      him through three brick walls.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The gig came to a stand-still and began to unload: first the dogs, who had
+      been stowed under their master's feet since they left the steamboat wharf,
+      and who with a clear bound to the sidewalk began scouring in mad circles,
+      one after another, up and down Todd's immaculate steps, the four in full
+      cry until the entire neighborhood was aroused, the late sleepers turning
+      over with the remark&mdash;&ldquo;Temple's at home,&rdquo; and the early risers
+      sticking their heads out of the windows to count the ducks as they were
+      passed out. Next the master: One shapely leg encased in an English-made
+      ducking boot, then its mate, until the whole of his handsome, well-knit,
+      perfectly healthy and perfectly delightful body was clear of the cramped
+      conveyance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello, Todd!&rdquo; he burst out, his face aglow with his drive from the
+      boat-landing&mdash;&ldquo;glad to see you! Here, take hold of these guns&mdash;-easy
+      now, they won't hurt you; one at a time, you lunkhead! And now pull those
+      ducks from under the seat. How's Aunt Jemima?&mdash;Oh, is that you
+      aunty?&rdquo; She had come on the run as soon as she heard the dogs. &ldquo;Everything
+      all right, aunty&mdash;howdy&mdash;&rdquo; and he shook her hand heartily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old woman had made a feint to pull her sleeves down over her plump
+      black arms and then, begrudging the delay, had grasped his outstretched
+      hand, her face in a broad grin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sah, dat's me. Clar' to goodness, Marse George, I's glad ter git ye
+      home. Lawd-a-massy, see dem ducks! Purty fat, ain't dey, sah? My!&mdash;dat
+      pair's jes' a-bustin'! G'long you fool nigger an' let me hab 'em! G'way
+      f'om dere I tell ye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&mdash;you pick them up, Todd&mdash;they're too heavy for you, aunty.
+      You go back to your kitchen and hurry up breakfast&mdash;waffles,
+      remember,&mdash;and some corn pone and a scallop shell or two&mdash;I'm as
+      hungry as a bear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The whole party were mounting the steps now, St. George carrying the guns,
+      Todd loaded down with the game&mdash;ten brace of canvas-backs and
+      redheads strung together by their bills&mdash;the driver of the gig
+      following with the master's big ducking overcoat and smaller traps&mdash;the
+      four dogs crowding up trying to nose past for a dash into the wide hall as
+      soon as Todd opened the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Anybody been here lately, Todd?&rdquo; his master asked, stopping for a moment
+      to get a better grip of his heaviest duck gun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't nobody been yere partic'ler 'cept Mister Harry Rutter. Dey alls
+      knowed you was away. Been yere mos' ev'ry day&mdash;come ag'in yisterday.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Rutter been here!&mdash;Well, what did he want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dunno, sah,&mdash;didn't say. Seemed consid'ble shook up when he foun'
+      you warn't to home. I done tol' him you might be back to-day an' den ag'in
+      you mightn't&mdash;'pended on de way de ducks was flyin'. Spec' he'll be
+      roun' ag'in purty soon&mdash;seemed ter hab sumpin' on his min'. I'll tu'n
+      de knob, sah. Yere&mdash;git down, you imp o' darkness,&mdash;you Floe!&mdash;you
+      Dandy! Drat dem dogs!&mdash;Yere, YERE!&rdquo; but all four dogs were inside
+      now, making a sweepstakes of the living-room, the rugs and cushions flying
+      in every direction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Although Todd had spent most of the minutes since daylight peering up and
+      down the Square, eager for the first sight of the man whom he loved with
+      an idolatry only to be found in the negro for a white man whom he
+      respects, and who is kind to him, he had not neglected any of his other
+      duties. There was a roaring wood fire behind brass andirons and fender.
+      There was a breakfast table set for two&mdash;St. George's invariable
+      custom. &ldquo;Somebody might drop in, you know, Todd.&rdquo; There was a big
+      easy-chair moved up within warming distance of the cheery blaze; there
+      were pipes and tobacco within reach of the master's hand; there was the
+      weekly newspaper folded neatly on the mantel, and a tray holding an
+      old-fashioned squat decanter and the necessary glasses&mdash;in fact, all
+      the comforts possible and necessary for a man who having at twenty-five
+      given up all hope of wedded life, found himself at fifty becoming
+      accustomed to its loss.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George seized the nearest dog by the collar, cuffed him into obedience
+      as an example to the others, ordered the four to the hearth rug, ran his
+      eye along the mantel to see what letters had arrived in his absence, and
+      disappeared into his bedroom. From thence he emerged half an hour later
+      attired in the costume of the day&mdash;a jaunty brown velveteen jacket,
+      loose red scarf, speckled white waistcoat&mdash;single-breasted and of his
+      own pattern and cut&mdash;dove-gray trousers, and white gaiters. No town
+      clothes for St. George as long as his measure was in London and his
+      friends were good enough to bring him a trunk full every year or two.
+      &ldquo;Well-cut garments may not make a gentleman,&rdquo; he would often say to the
+      youngsters about him, &ldquo;but slip-shod clothes can spoil one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had drawn up to the table now, Todd in white jacket hovering about him,
+      bringing relays of waffles, hot coffee, and more particularly the first of
+      a series of great scallop-shells filled with oysters which he had placed
+      on the well-brushed hearth to keep hot while his master was dressing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Fifty he was by the almanac, and by the old family Bible as well, and yet
+      he did not look it. Six feet and an inch; straight, ruddy-checked,
+      broad-shouldered, well-rounded, but with his waist measure still under
+      control; slightly gray at the temples, with clean-shaven face, laughing
+      eyes, white teeth, and finely moulded nose, brow, and chin, he was
+      everything his friends claimed&mdash;the perfect embodiment of all that
+      was best in his class and station, and of all that his blood had
+      bequeathed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And fine old fellows they were if we can believe the historians of the
+      seventeenth century: &ldquo;Wearing the falchion and the rapier, the cloth coat
+      lined with plush and embroidered belt, the gold hat-band and the feathers,
+      silk stockings and garters, besides signet rings and other jewels;
+      wainscoting the walls of their principal rooms in black oak and loading
+      their sideboards with a deal of rich and massive silver plate upon which
+      was carved the arms of their ancestors;&mdash;drinking, too, strong punch
+      and sack from 'silver sack-cups'&mdash;(sack being their favorite)&mdash;and
+      feasting upon oysters and the most delicious of all the ducks of the
+      world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And in none of their other distinguishing qualities was their descendant
+      lacking. In the very lift of his head and brace of his shoulders; in the
+      grace and ease with which he crossed the room, one could see at a glance
+      something of the dash and often the repose of the cavalier from whom he
+      had sprung. And the sympathy, kindness, and courtesy of the man that
+      showed in every glance of his eye and every movement of his body&mdash;despite
+      his occasional explosive temper&mdash;a sympathy that drifted in to an
+      ungovernable impulse to divide everything he owned into two parts, and his
+      own half into two once more if the other fellow needed it; a kindness that
+      made every man his friend, and a courtesy which, even in a time when men
+      lifted their hats to men, as well as to women, had gained for him, the
+      town over, the soubriquet of &ldquo;Gentleman George&rdquo;; while to every young girl
+      and youth under twenty he was just &ldquo;dear Uncle George&rdquo;&mdash;the one man
+      in all Kennedy Square who held their secrets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But to our breakfast once more. All four dogs were on their feet now,
+      their tails wagging expectantly, their noses at each of his knees, where
+      they were regaled at regular intervals with choice bits from his plate,
+      the snapping of their solemn jaws expressing their thanks. A second
+      scallop-shell was next lifted from the hearth with the tongs, and
+      deposited sizzling hot on a plate beside the master, the aroma of the
+      oysters filling the room. These having disappeared, as had the former one,
+      together with the waffles and coffee, and the master's appetite being now
+      on the wane, general conversation became possible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did Mr. Rutter look ill, Todd?&rdquo; he continued, picking up the thread of
+      the talk where he had left it. &ldquo;He wasn't very well when I left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, sah,&mdash;neber see him look better. Been up a li'l' late I reckon,&mdash;Marse
+      Harry mos' gen'ally is a li'l' mite late, sah&mdash;&rdquo; Todd chuckled. &ldquo;But
+      dat ain't nuthin' to dese gemmans. But he sho' do wanter see ye. Maybe he
+      stayed all night at Mister Seymour's. If he did an' he yered de rumpus
+      dese rapscallions kicked up&mdash;yes&mdash;dat's you I'm talkin' to&rdquo;&mdash;and
+      he looked toward the dogs&mdash;&ldquo;he'll be roun' yere 'fo' ye gits fru yo'
+      bre'kfus'. Dey do say as how Marse Harry's mighty sweet in dat quarter.
+      Mister Langdon Willits's snoopin' roun' too, but Miss Kate ain't got no
+      use fer him. He ain't quality dey say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      His master let him run on; Aunt Jemima was Todd's only outlet during his
+      master's absence, and as this was sometimes clogged by an uplifted broom,
+      he made the best use he could of the opportunities when he and his master
+      were alone. When &ldquo;comp'ny&rdquo; were present he was as close-mouthed as a clam
+      and as noiseless as a crab.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who told you all this gossip, Todd?&rdquo; exclaimed St. George with a smile,
+      laying down his knife and fork.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't nary one tol' me&mdash;ain't no use bein' tol'. All ye got to do is
+      to keep yo' eyes open. Be a weddin' dar 'fo' spring. Look out, sah&mdash;dat
+      shell's still a-sizzlin'. Mo' coffee, sah? Wait till I gits some hot
+      waffles&mdash;won't take a minute!&rdquo; and he was out of the room and
+      downstairs before his master could answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Hardly had he slammed the kitchen door behind him when the clatter and
+      stamp of a horse's hoofs were heard Outside, followed by an impatient
+      rat-a-tat-tat on the knocker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy dropped his dishes: &ldquo;Fo' Gawd, dat's Mister Harry!&rdquo; he cried as he
+      started on a run for the door. &ldquo;Don't nobody bang de do' down like dat but
+      him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A slender, thoroughly graceful young fellow of twenty-one or two, booted
+      and spurred, his dark eyes flashing, his face tingling with the sting of
+      the early morning air, dashed past the obsequious darky and burst into
+      Temple's presence with the rush of a north-west breeze. He had ridden ten
+      miles since he vaulted into the saddle, had never drawn rein uphill or
+      down, and neither he nor the thoroughbred pawing the mud outside had
+      turned a hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hello, Uncle George!&rdquo; Temple, as has been said, was Uncle George to every
+      girl and youth in Kennedy Square.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Harry!&rdquo; He had sprung from his seat, napkin in hand and had him by
+      both shoulders, looking into his eyes as if he wanted to hug him, and
+      would the first thing he knew. &ldquo;Where are you from&mdash;Moorlands? What a
+      rollicking chap you are, and you look so well and handsome, you dog! And
+      now tell me of your dear mother and your father. But first down with you&mdash;here&mdash;right
+      opposite&mdash;always your place, my dear Harry. Todd, another shell of
+      oysters and more waffles and coffee&mdash;everything, Todd, and blazing
+      hot: two shells, Todd&mdash;the sight of you, Harry, makes me ravenous
+      again, and I could have eaten my boots, when I got home an hour ago, I was
+      so hungry. But the mare&rdquo;&mdash;here he moved to the window&mdash;&ldquo;is she
+      all right? Spitfire, I suppose&mdash;you'd kill anything else, you rascal!
+      But you haven't tied her!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;never tie her&mdash;break her heart if I did. Todd, hang up this
+      coat and hat in the hall before you go.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's what you said of that horse you bought of Hampson&mdash;ran away,
+      didn't he?&rdquo; persisted his host, his eyes on the mare, which had now become
+      quiet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and broke his leg. But Spitfire's all right&mdash;she'll stand.
+      Where will I sit&mdash;here? And now what kind of a time did you have, and
+      who were with you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Clayton, Doctor Teackle, and the judge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how many ducks did you get?&rdquo; and he dropped into his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Twenty-one,&rdquo; answered St. George, dry-washing his white shapely hands, as
+      he took his seat&mdash;a habit of his when greatly pleased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All canvas-backs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;five redheads and a mallard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did you put up?&rdquo; echoed Harry, loosening his riding-jacket to give
+      his knife and fork freer play.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I spent a week at Tom Coston's and a week at Craddock. Another lump of
+      sugar, Todd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy laughed gently: &ldquo;Lazy Tom's?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lazy Tom's&mdash;and the best-hearted fellow in the world. They're going
+      to make him a judge, they say and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;What of&mdash;peach brandy? No cream in mine, Todd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;you scurrilous dog&mdash;of the Common Court,&rdquo; retorted St.
+      George, looking at him over the top of his cup. &ldquo;Very good lawyer is Tom&mdash;got
+      horse sense and can speak the truth&mdash;make a very good judge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Harry laughed&mdash;rather a forced laugh this time, as if he were
+      trying to make himself agreeable but with so anxious a ring through it
+      that Todd busied himself about the table before going below for fresh
+      supplies, making excuse of collecting the used dishes. If there were to be
+      any revelations concerning the situation at the Seymour house, he did not
+      intend to miss any part of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better put Mrs. Coston on the bench and set Tom to rocking the cradle,&rdquo;
+       said the young man, reaching for the plate of corn pone. &ldquo;She's a
+      thoroughbred if ever I saw one, and does credit to her blood. But go on&mdash;tell
+      me about the birds. Are they flying high?&mdash;and the duck blinds; have
+      they fixed them up? They were all going to pot when I was there last.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Birds out of range, most of them&mdash;hard work getting what I did. As
+      to the blinds, they are still half full of water&mdash;got soaking wet
+      trying to use one. I shot most of mine from the boat just as the day
+      broke,&rdquo; and then followed a full account of what the party had bagged,
+      with details of every day's adventures. This done, St. George pushed back
+      his chair and faced the young man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now you take the witness-stand, sir&mdash;look me in the eyes, put
+      your hand on your fob-pocket and tell me the truth. Todd says you have
+      been here every day for a week looking as if you had lost your last
+      fip-penny-bit and wild to see me. What has happened?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd has a vivid imagination.&rdquo; He turned in his seat, stretched out his
+      hand, and catching one of the dogs by the nose rubbed his head vigorously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go on&mdash;all of it&mdash;no dodging the king's counsellor. What's the
+      matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young man glanced furtively at Todd, grabbed another dog, rubbed their
+      two ears together in play, and in a lowered voice, through which a tinge
+      of sadness was only too apparent, murmured:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Kate&mdash;we've had a falling out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George lowered his head suddenly and gave a low whistle:&mdash;&ldquo;Falling
+      out?&mdash;what about?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again young Rutter glanced at Todd, whose back was turned, but whose ears
+      were stretched to splitting point. His host nodded understandingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, Todd&mdash;that will do; now go down and get your breakfast. No
+      more waffles, tell Aunt Jemima. Bring the pipes over here and throw on
+      another log... that's right.&rdquo; A great sputtering of sparks followed&mdash;a
+      spider-legged, mahogany table was wheeled into place, and the dejected
+      darky left the room for the regions below.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you two have had a quarrel! Oh, Harry!&mdash;when will you learn to
+      think twice before you speak? Whose fault was it?&rdquo; sighed St. George,
+      filling the bowl of his pipe with his slender fingers, slowly tucking in
+      each shred and grain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you say?&rdquo; (Puff-puff.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing&mdash;I couldn't. She came in and saw it all.&rdquo; The boy had his
+      elbows on the table now, his cheeks sunk in his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George looked up: &ldquo;Drunk, were you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At Mrs. Cheston's ball last week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you seen her since?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;she won't let me come near her. Mr. Seymour passed me yesterday
+      and hardly spoke to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George canted his chair and zigzagged it toward the blazing hearth;
+      then he said thoughtfully, without looking at the young man:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish! Have you told your father?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;he wouldn't understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I know you didn't tell your mother.&rdquo; This came with the tone of
+      positive conviction.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;and don't you. Mother is daft on the subject. If she had her
+      way, father would never put a drop of wine on the table. She says it is
+      ruining the county&mdash;but that's mother's way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George stooped over, fondled one of the dogs for a moment&mdash;two
+      had followed Todd out of the room&mdash;settled back in his chair again,
+      and still looking into the fire, said slowly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bad business&mdash;bad business, Harry! Kate is as proud as Lucifer and
+      dislikes nothing on earth so much as being made conspicuous. Tell me
+      exactly what happened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, there isn't anything to tell,&rdquo; replied the young fellow, raising
+      his head and leaning back in his chair, his face the picture of despair.
+      &ldquo;We were all in the library and the place was boiling-hot, and they had
+      two big bowls, one full of eggnog and the other full of apple-toddy: and
+      the next thing I knew I was out in the hall and met Kate on the stairs.
+      She gave a little smothered scream, and moaned&mdash;'Oh, Harry!&mdash;and
+      you promised me!'&mdash;and then she put her hands to her face, as if to
+      shut me out of her sight. That sobered me somewhat, and after I got out on
+      the porch into the night air and had pulled myself together, I tried to
+      find her and apologize, but she had gone home, although the ball wasn't
+      half over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then this was not the first time?&rdquo; He was still at the hot coals, both
+      hands outfanned, to screen his face from the blaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;I'm sorry to say it wasn't. I told her I would never fail her
+      again, and she forgave me, but I don't know what she'll do now. She never
+      forgives anybody who breaks his word&mdash;she's very queer about it.
+      That's what I came to see you about. I haven't slept much nights, thinking
+      it over, and so I had the mare saddled, as soon as it got light, hoping
+      you would be home. Todd thought you might be&mdash;he saw Dr. Teackle's
+      Joe, who said you were all coming to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again there was a long pause, during which Temple continued to study the
+      coals through his open fingers, the young man sitting hunched up in his
+      chair, his handsome head dropped between his shoulders, his glossy
+      chestnut hair, a-frouze with his morning ride, fringing his collar behind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harry,&rdquo; said St. George, knocking the ashes slowly from his pipe on the
+      edge of the fender, and turning his face for the first time toward him,&mdash;&ldquo;didn't
+      I hear something before I went away about a ball at your father's&mdash;or
+      a dance&mdash;or something, when your engagement was to be announced?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And was it not to be something out of the ordinary?&rdquo; he continued,
+      looking at the boy from under his eyelids&mdash;&ldquo;Teackle certainly told me
+      so&mdash;said that your mother had already begun to get the house in order&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Harry nodded&mdash;as if he had been listening to an indictment,
+      every word of which he knew was true.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George roused himself and faced his guest: &ldquo;And yet you took this
+      time, Harry, to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy threw up both hands in protest:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't!&mdash;DON'T! Uncle George! It's the ball that makes it all the
+      worse. That's why I've got no time to lose; that's why I've haunted this
+      place waiting for you to get back. Mother will be heart-broken if she
+      finds out and I don't know what father would do.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George laid his empty pipe on the table and straightened his body in
+      the chair until his broad shoulders filled the back. Then his brow
+      darkened; his indignation was getting the better of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know what has come over you young fellows, Harry!&rdquo; he at last
+      broke out, his eyes searching the boy's. &ldquo;You don't seem to know how to
+      live. You've got to pull a shoat out of a trough to keep it from
+      overeating itself, but you shouldn't be obliged to pull a gentleman away
+      from his glass. Good wine is good food and should be treated as such. My
+      cellar is stocked with old Madeira&mdash;some port&mdash;some fine
+      sherries&mdash;so is your father's. Have you ever seen him abuse them?&mdash;have
+      you ever seen Mr. Horn or Mr. Kennedy, or any of our gentlemen around
+      here, abuse them? It's scandalous, Harry! damnable! I love you, my son&mdash;love
+      you in a way you know nothing of, but you've got to stop this sort of
+      thing right off. And so have these young roysterers you associate with.
+      It's getting worse every day. I don't wonder your dear mother feels about
+      it as she does. But she's always been that way, and she's always been
+      right about it, too, although I didn't use to think so.&rdquo; This last came
+      with a lowered voice and a deep, indrawn sigh, and for the moment checked
+      the flow of his wrath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry hung his head still lower, but he did not attempt to defend himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who else were making vulgarians of themselves at Mrs. Cheston's?&rdquo; St.
+      George continued in a calmer tone, stretching his shapely legs until the
+      soles of his shoes touched the fender.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mark Gilbert, Tom Murdoch, Langdon Willits, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willits, eh?&mdash;Well, I should expect it of Willits. He wasn't born a
+      gentleman&mdash;that is, his grandfather wasn't a gentleman&mdash;married
+      his overseer's daughter, if I remember right:&mdash;but you come of the
+      best blood in the State,&mdash;egad!&mdash;none better! You have something
+      to maintain&mdash;some standard to keep up. A Rutter should never be found
+      guilty of anything that would degrade his name. You seem to forget that&mdash;you&mdash;damn
+      me, Harry!&mdash;when I think of it all&mdash;and of Kate&mdash;my sweet,
+      lovely Kate,&mdash;and how you have made her suffer&mdash;for she loves
+      you&mdash;no question of that&mdash;I feel like wringing your neck! What
+      the devil do you mean, Sir?&rdquo; He was up on his feet now, pacing the room,
+      the dogs following his every movement with their brown agate eyes, their
+      soft, silky ears straightening and falling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So far the young fellow had not moved nor had he offered a word in
+      defence. He knew his Uncle George&mdash;better let him blow it all out,
+      then the two could come together. At last he said in a contrite tone&mdash;his
+      hands upraised:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't scold me, Uncle George. I've scolded myself enough&mdash;just say
+      something to help me. I can't give Kate up&mdash;I'd sooner die. I've
+      always made a fool of myself&mdash;maybe I'll quit doing it after this.
+      Tell me how I can straighten this out. She won't see me&mdash;maybe her
+      father won't. He and my father&mdash;so Tom Warfield told me yesterday&mdash;had
+      a talk at the club. What they said I don't know, but Mr. Seymour was
+      pretty mad&mdash;that is, for him&mdash;so Tom thought from the way he
+      spoke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he ought to be mad&mdash;raging mad! He's only got one daughter, and
+      she the proudest and loveliest thing on earth, and that one he intends to
+      give to you&rdquo;&mdash;Harry looked up in surprise&mdash;&ldquo;Yes&mdash;he told me
+      so. And here you are breaking her heart before he has announced it to the
+      world. It's worse than damnable, Harry&mdash;it's a CRIME!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For some minutes he continued his walk, stopping to look out of the
+      window, his eyes on the mare who, with head up and restless eyes, was on
+      the watch for her master's return; then he picked up his pipe from the
+      table, threw himself into his chair again, and broke into one of his
+      ringing laughs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon it's because you're twenty, Harry, I forgot that. Hot blood&mdash;hot
+      temper,&mdash;madcap dare-devil that you are&mdash;not a grain of
+      common-sense. But what can you expect?&mdash;I was just like you at your
+      age. Come, now, what shall we do first?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young fellow rose and a smile of intense relief crept over his face.
+      He had had many such overhaulings from his uncle, and always with this
+      ending. Whenever St. George let out one of those big, spontaneous,
+      bubbling laughs straight from his heart, the trouble, no matter how
+      serious, was over. What some men gained by anger and invective St. George
+      gained by good humor, ranging from the faint smile of toleration to the
+      roar of merriment. One reason why he had so few enemies&mdash;none,
+      practically&mdash;was that he could invariably disarm an adversary with a
+      laugh. It was a fine old blade that he wielded; only a few times in his
+      life had he been called upon to use any other&mdash;when some under-dog
+      was maltreated, or his own good name or that of a friend was traduced, or
+      some wrong had to be righted&mdash;then his face would become as hot steel
+      and there would belch out a flame of denunciation that would scorch and
+      blind in its intensity. None of these fiercer moods did the boy know;&mdash;what
+      he knew was his uncle's merry side&mdash;his sympathetic, loving side,&mdash;and
+      so, following up his advantage, he strode across the room, settled down on
+      the arm of his uncle's chair, and put his arm about his shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Won't you go and see her, please?&rdquo; he pleaded, patting his back,
+      affectionately.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What good will that do? Hand me a match, Harry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything&mdash;that's what I came for.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not with Kate! She isn't a child&mdash;she's a woman,&rdquo; he echoed back
+      between the puffs, his indignation again on the rise. &ldquo;And she is
+      different from the girls about here,&rdquo; he added, tossing the burned match
+      in the fire. &ldquo;When she once makes up her mind it stays made up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't let her make it up! Go and see her and tell her how I love her and
+      how miserable I am. Tell her I'll never break another promise to her as
+      long as I live. Nobody ever holds out against you. Please, Uncle George!
+      I'll never come to you for anything else in the world if you'll help me
+      this time. And I won't drink another drop of anything you don't want me to
+      drink&mdash;I don't care what father or anybody else says. Oh, you've GOT
+      to go to her!&mdash;I can't stand it any longer! Every time I think of
+      Kate hidden away over there where I can't get at her, it drives me wild. I
+      wouldn't ask you to go if I could go myself and talk it out with her&mdash;but
+      she won't let me near her&mdash;I've tried, and tried; and Ben says she
+      isn't at home, and knows he lies when he says it! You will go, won't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The smoke from his uncle's pipe was coming freer now&mdash;most of it
+      escaping up the throat of the chimney with a gentle swoop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When do you want me to go?&rdquo; He had already surrendered. When had he ever
+      held out when a love affair was to be patched up?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now, right away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&mdash;I'll go to-night,&mdash;she will be at home then,&rdquo; he said at
+      last, as if he had just made up his mind, the pipe having helped&mdash;&ldquo;and
+      do you come in about nine and&mdash;let me know when you are there, or&mdash;better
+      still, wait in the hall until I come for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But couldn't I steal in while you are talking?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;you do just as I tell you. Not a sound out of you, remember,
+      until I call you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how am I to know? She might go out the other door and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll know when I come for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you think it will be all right, don't you?&rdquo; he pleaded. &ldquo;You'll tell
+      her what an awful time I've had, won't you, Uncle George?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, every word of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And that I haven't slept a wink since&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and that you are going to drown yourself and blow your head off
+      and swallow poison. Now off with you and let me think how I am to begin
+      straightening out this idiotic mess. Nine o'clock, remember, and in the
+      hall until I come for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;nine o'clock! Oh!&mdash;you good Uncle George! I'll never
+      forget you for it,&rdquo; and with a grasp of St. George's hand and another
+      outpouring of gratitude, the young fellow swung wide the door, clattered
+      down the steps, threw his leg over Spitfire, and dashed up the street.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER II
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      If Kate's ancestors had wasted any part of their substance in too lavish a
+      hospitality, after the manner of the spendthrift whose extravagances were
+      recounted in the preceding chapter, there was nothing to indicate it in
+      the home of their descendants. No loose shutters, crumbling chimneys, or
+      blistered woodwork defaced the Seymour mansion:&mdash;the touch of the
+      restorer was too apparent. No sooner did a shutter sag or a hinge give way
+      than away it went to the carpenter or the blacksmith; no sooner did a
+      banister wabble, or a table crack, or an andiron lose a leg, than up came
+      somebody with a kit, or a bag, or a box of tools, and they were as good as
+      new before you could wink your eye. Indeed, so great was the desire to
+      keep things up that it was only necessary (so a wag said) to scratch a
+      match on old Seymour's front door to have its panels repainted the next
+      morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then its seclusion:&mdash;while its neighbors&mdash;the Temple mansion
+      among them&mdash;had been placed boldly out to the full building line
+      where they could see and be seen, the Seymours, with that spirit of
+      aloofness which had marked the family for generations, had set their
+      dwelling back ten paces, thrown up a hedge of sweet-smelling box to screen
+      the inmates from the gaze of passers-by, planted three or four big trees
+      as protection for the upper windows, and, to insure still greater privacy,
+      had put up a swinging wooden gate, kept shut by a ball and chain, its
+      clang announcing the entrance of each and every visitor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And this same spirit was manifest the moment you stepped into the wide
+      hall, glanced at the old family portraits marching steadily, one after
+      another, up the side of the spacious stairs (revarnished every other year)&mdash;entered
+      the great drawing-room hung with yellow satin and decorated with quaint
+      mirrors, and took a scat in one of the all-embracing arm-chairs, there to
+      await the arrival of either the master of the house or his charming
+      daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If it were the master to whom you wished to pay your respects, one glance
+      at the Honorable Howard Douglass Seymour would have convinced you that he
+      was precisely the kind of man who should have had charge of so
+      well-ordered a home: so well brushed was he&mdash;so clean-shaven&mdash;so
+      immaculately upholstered&mdash;the two points of his collar pinching his
+      cheeks at the same precise angle; his faultless black stock fitting to
+      perfection, the lapels of his high-rolled coat matching exactly. And then
+      the correct parting of the thin gray hair and the two little gray
+      brush-tails of lovelocks that were combed in front of his ears, there to
+      become a part of the two little dabs of gray whiskers that stretched from
+      his temples to his bleached cheekbones. Yes&mdash;a most carefully
+      preserved, prim, and well-ordered person was Kate's father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the great man's career, apart from his service in the legislature,
+      which won him his title, there was no other act of his life which marked
+      him apart from his fellows. Suffice it to say that he was born a gentleman
+      without a penny to his name; that he married Kate's mother when she was
+      twenty and he forty (and here is another story, and a sad one)&mdash;she
+      the belle of her time&mdash;and sole heir to the estate of her
+      grandfather, Captain Hugh Barkeley, the rich ship-owner&mdash;and that the
+      alliance had made him a gentleman of unlimited leisure, she, at her death,
+      having left all her property to her daughter Kate, with the Honorable Prim
+      as custodian.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And this trust, to his credit be it said&mdash;for Seymour was of Scotch
+      descent, a point in his favor with old Captain Barkeley, who was Scotch on
+      his mother's side, and, therefore, somewhat canny&mdash;was most
+      religiously kept, he living within his ample means&mdash;or Kate's, which
+      was the same thing&mdash;discharging the duties of father, citizen, and
+      friend, with the regularity of a clock&mdash;so many hours with his
+      daughter, so many hours at his club, so many hours at his office; the
+      intermediate minutes being given over to resting, dressing, breakfasting,
+      dining, sleeping, and no doubt praying; the precise moment that marked the
+      beginning and ending of each task having been fixed years in advance by
+      this most exemplary, highly respectable, and utterly colorless old
+      gentleman of sixty.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That this dry shell of a man could be the father of our spontaneous lovely
+      Kate was one of the things that none of the younger people around Kennedy
+      Square could understand&mdash;but then few of them had known her beautiful
+      mother with her proud step and flashing eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But it is not the punctilious, methodical Prim whom St. George wishes to
+      see to-night; nor does he go through any of the formalities customary to
+      the house. There is no waiting until old Ben, the family butler in
+      snuff-colored coat and silver buttons, shuffles upstairs or into the
+      library, or wherever the inmates were to be found, there to announce
+      &ldquo;Massa George Temple.&rdquo; Nor did he send in his card, or wait until his
+      knock was answered. He simply swung back the gate until the old chain and
+      ball, shocked at his familiarity, rattled itself into a rage, strode past
+      the neatly trimmed, fragrant box, pushed open the door&mdash;no front door
+      was ever locked in the daytime in Kennedy Square, and few at night&mdash;and
+      halting at the bottom step, called up the silent stairs in a voice that
+      was a joyous greeting in itself:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kate, you darling! come down as quick as your dear little feet will carry
+      you! It's Uncle George, do you hear?&mdash;or shall I come up and bring
+      you down in my arms, you bunch of roses? It won't be the first time.&rdquo; The
+      first time was when she was a year old.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&mdash;is that you, Uncle George? Yes,&mdash;just as soon as I do up
+      my back hair.&rdquo; The voice came from the top of the stairs&mdash;a lark's
+      voice singing down from high up. &ldquo;Father's out and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;I know he's out; I met him on his way to the club. Hurry now&mdash;I've
+      got the best news in the world for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;in a minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He knew her minutes, and how long they could be, and in his impatience
+      roamed about the wide hall examining the old English engravings and
+      colored prints decorating the panels until he heard her step overhead and
+      looking up watched her cross the upper hall, her well-poised, aristocratic
+      head high in air, her full, well-rounded, blossoming body imaged in the
+      loose embroidered scarf wound about her sloping shoulders. Soon he caught
+      the wealth of her blue-black hair in whose folds her negro mammy had
+      pinned a rose that matched the brilliancy of her cheeks, two stray curls
+      wandering over her neck; her broad forehead, with clearly marked eyebrows,
+      arching black lashes shading lustrous, slumbering eyes; and as she drew
+      nearer, her warm red lips, exquisite teeth, and delicate chin, and last,
+      the little feet that played hide and seek beneath her quilted petticoat: a
+      tall, dark, full-blooded, handsome girl of eighteen with an air of command
+      and distinction tempered by a certain sweet dignity and delicious coquetry&mdash;a
+      woman to be loved even when she ruled and to be reverenced even when she
+      trifled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had reached the floor now, and the two arm in arm, he patting her
+      hand, she laughing beside him, had entered the small library followed by
+      the old butler bringing another big candelabra newly lighted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's so good of you to come,&rdquo; she cried, her face alight with the joy of
+      seeing him&mdash;&ldquo;and you look so happy and well&mdash;your trip down the
+      bay has done you a world of good. Ben says the ducks you sent father are
+      the best we have had this winter. Now tell me, dear Uncle George&rdquo;&mdash;she
+      had him in one of the deep arm-chairs by this time, with a cushion behind
+      his shoulders&mdash;&ldquo;I am dying to hear all about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you 'dear Uncle George' me until you've heard what I've got to
+      say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you said you had the best news in the world for me,&rdquo; she laughed,
+      looking at him from under her lashes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So I have.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl's face clouded and her lips quivered. Then she sat bolt upright.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won't hear a word about him. He's broken his promise to me and I will
+      never trust him again. If I thought you'd come to talk about Harry, I
+      wouldn't have come down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George lay back in his chair, shrugged his shoulders, stole a look at
+      her from beneath his bushy eyebrows, and said with an assumed dignity, a
+      smile playing about his lips:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, off goes his head&mdash;exit the scoundrel. Much as I could do
+      to keep him out of Jones Falls this morning, but of course now it's all
+      over we can let Spitfire break his neck. That's the way a gentleman should
+      die of love&mdash;and not be fished out of a dirty stream with his clothes
+      all bespattered with mud.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he won't die for love. He doesn't know what love means or he wouldn't
+      behave as he does. Do you know what really happened, Uncle George?&rdquo; Her
+      brown eyes were flashing, her cheeks aflame with her indignation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know exactly what happened. Harry told me with the tears running
+      down his cheeks. It was dreadful&mdash;INEXCUSABLE&mdash;BARBAROUS! I've
+      been that way myself&mdash;tumbled half-way down these same stairs before
+      you were born and had to be put to bed, which accounts for the miserable
+      scapegrace I am to-day.&rdquo; His face was in a broad smile, but his voice
+      never wavered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate looked at him and put out her hand. &ldquo;You never did&mdash;I won't
+      believe a word of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ask your father, my dear. He helped carry me upstairs, and Ben pulled off
+      my boots. Oh, it was most disgraceful! I'm just beginning to live it
+      down,&rdquo; and he reached over and patted the girl's cheek, his hearty laugh
+      ringing through the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate was smiling now&mdash;her Uncle George was always irresistible when
+      he was like this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Harry isn't you,&rdquo; she pouted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;ISN'T ME!&mdash;why I was ten times worse! He's only twenty-one and I was
+      twenty-five. He's got four years the better of me in which to reform.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'll NEVER be like you&mdash;you never broke a promise in your life. He
+      gave me his word of honor he would never get&mdash;yes&mdash;I'm just
+      going to say it&mdash;drunk&mdash;again: yes&mdash;that's the very word&mdash;DRUNK!
+      I don't care&mdash;I won't have it! I won't have anything to do with
+      anybody who breaks his promise, and who can't keep sober. My father was
+      never so in his life, and Harry shall never come near me again if he&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold on!&mdash;HOLD ON! Oh, what an unforgiving minx! You Seymours are
+      all like tinder boxes&mdash;your mother was just like you and so was&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, not father,&rdquo; she bridled, with a toss of her head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George smiled queerly&mdash;Prim was one of his jokes. &ldquo;Your father,
+      my dear Kate, has the milk of human kindness in his veins, not red
+      fighting blood. That makes a whole lot of difference. Now listen to me:&mdash;you
+      love Harry&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! I DESPISE him! I told him so!&rdquo; She had risen from her seat and had
+      moved to the mantel, where she stood looking into the fire, her back
+      toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you interrupt me, you blessed girl&mdash;just you listen to Uncle
+      George for a minute. You DO love Harry&mdash;you can't help it&mdash;nobody
+      can. If you had seen him this morning you would have thrown your arms
+      around him in a minute&mdash;I came near doing it myself. Of course he's
+      wild, reckless, and hot-headed like all the Rutters and does no end of
+      foolish things, but you wouldn't love him if he was different. He's just
+      like Spitfire&mdash;never keeps still a minute&mdash;restless, pawing the
+      ground, or all four feet in the air&mdash;then away she goes! You can't
+      reason with her&mdash;you don't wish to; you get impatient when she chafes
+      at the bit because you are determined she shall keep still, but if you
+      wanted her to go like the wind and she couldn't, you'd be more
+      dissatisfied than ever. The pawing and chafing is of no matter; it is her
+      temperament that counts. So it is with Harry. He wouldn't be the lovable,
+      dashing, high-spirited young fellow he is if he didn't kick over the
+      traces once in a while and break everything to pieces&mdash;his promises
+      among them. And it isn't his fault&mdash;it's the Spanish and Dutch blood
+      in his veins&mdash;the blood of that old hidalgo and his Dutch ancestor,
+      De Ruyter&mdash;that crops out once in a while. Harry would be a pirate
+      and sweep the Spanish main if he had lived in those days, instead of being
+      a gentleman who values nothing in life so much as the woman he loves.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had been speaking to her back all this time, the girl never moving, the
+      outlines of her graceful body in silhouette against the blaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then why doesn't he prove it?&rdquo; she sighed. She liked old hidalgos and had
+      no aversion to pirates if they were manly and brave about their work.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He does&mdash;and he lives up to his standard except in this one failing
+      for which I am truly sorry. Abominable I grant you&mdash;but there are
+      many things which are worse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't think of anything worse,&rdquo; she echoed with a deep sigh, walking
+      slowly toward him and regaining her chair, all her anger gone, only the
+      pain in her heart left. &ldquo;I don't want Harry to be like the others, and he
+      can't live their lives if he's going to be my husband. I want him to be
+      different,&mdash;to be big and fine and strong,&mdash;like the men who
+      have made the world better for their having lived in it&mdash;that old De
+      Ruyter, for instance, that his father is always bragging about&mdash;not a
+      weak, foolish boy whom everybody can turn around their fingers. Some of my
+      girl friends don't mind what the young men do, or how often they break
+      their word to them so that they are sure of their love. I do, and I won't
+      have it, and I have told Harry so over and over again. It's such a
+      cowardly thing&mdash;not to be man enough to stand up and say 'No&mdash;I
+      won't drink with you!' That's why I say I can't think of his doing
+      anything worse.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George fixed his eyes upon her. He had thought he knew the girl's
+      heart, but this was a revelation to him. Perhaps her sorrow, like that of
+      her mother, was making a well-rounded woman of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I can think of a dozen things worse,&rdquo; he rejoined with some
+      positiveness. &ldquo;Harry might lie; Harry might be a coward; Harry might stand
+      by and hear a friend defamed; Harry might be discourteous to a woman, or
+      allow another man to be&mdash;a thing he'd rather die than permit. None of
+      these things could he be or do. I'd shut my door in his face if he did any
+      one of them, and so should you. And then he is so penitent when he has
+      done anything wrong. 'It was my fault&mdash;I would rather hang myself
+      than lose Kate. I haven't slept a wink, Uncle George.' And he was so
+      handsome when he came in this morning&mdash;his big black eyes flashing,
+      his cheeks like two roses&mdash;so straight and strong, and so graceful
+      and wholesome and lovable. I wouldn't care, if I were you, if he did slip
+      once in a while&mdash;not any more than I would if Spitfire stumbled. And
+      then again&rdquo;&mdash;here he moved his chair close to her own so he could get
+      his hand on hers the easier&mdash;&ldquo;if Spitfire does stumble, there is the
+      bridle to pull her up, but for this she might break her neck. That's where
+      you come in, Kate. Harry's in your hands&mdash;has been since the hour he
+      loved you. Don't let him go headlong to the devil&mdash;and he will if you
+      turn him loose without a bridle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't do him any good&mdash;he won't mind anything I say. And what
+      dependence can I place on him after this?&rdquo; her voice sank to a tone of
+      helpless tenderness. &ldquo;It isn't his being drunk altogether; he will outgrow
+      that, perhaps, as you say you did, and be man enough to say no next time;
+      but it's because he broke his promise to me. That he will never outgrow!
+      Oh, it's wicked!&mdash;wicked for him to treat me so. I have never done
+      anything he didn't want me to do! and he has no right to&mdash;Oh, Uncle
+      George, it's&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George leaned nearer and covered her limp fingers with his own tender
+      grasp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Try him once more, Kate. Let me send him to you. It will be all over in a
+      minute and you will be so happy&mdash;both of you! Nothing like making up&mdash;it
+      really pays for the pain of a quarrel.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The outside door shut gently and there was a slight movement in the hall
+      behind them, but neither of them noticed it. Kate sat with her head up,
+      her mind at work, her eyes watching the firelight. It was her future she
+      was looking into. She had positive, fixed ideas of what her station in
+      life as a married woman should be;&mdash;not what her own or Harry's birth
+      and position could bring her. With that will-o'-the-wisp she had no
+      sympathy. Her grandfather in his early days had been a plain, seafaring
+      man even if his ancestry did go back to the time of James I, and her
+      mother had been a lady, and that too without the admixture of a single
+      drop of the blood of any Kennedy Square aristocrat. That Harry was well
+      born and well bred was as it should be, but there was something more;&mdash;the
+      man himself. That was why she hesitated. Yes&mdash;it WOULD &ldquo;all be over
+      in a minute,&rdquo; just as Uncle George said, but when would the next break
+      come? And then again there was her mother's life with all the misery that
+      a broken promise had caused her. Uncle George was not the only young
+      gallant who had been put to bed in her grandfather's house. Her mother had
+      loved too&mdash;just as much as she loved Harry&mdash;loved with her whole
+      soul&mdash;until grandpa Barkeley put his foot down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George waited in silence as he read her mind. Breaches between most of
+      the boys and girls were easily patched up&mdash;a hearty cry, an
+      outstretched hand&mdash;&ldquo;I am so sorry,&rdquo; and they were in each other's
+      arms. Not so with Kate. Her reason, as well as her heart, had to be
+      satisfied. This was one of the things that made her different from all the
+      other girls about her, and this too was what had given her first place in
+      the affections and respect of all who knew her. Her heart he saw was
+      uppermost to-night, but reason still lurked in the background.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What do you think made him do it again?&rdquo; she murmured at last in a voice
+      barely audible, her fingers tightening in his palm. &ldquo;He knows how I suffer
+      and he knows too WHY I suffer. Oh, Uncle George!&mdash;won't you please
+      talk to him! I love him so, and I can't marry him if he's like this. I
+      can't!&mdash;<i>I</i> CAN'T!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A restrained smile played over St. George's face. The tide was setting his
+      way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It won't do a bit of good,&rdquo; he said calmly, smothering his joy. &ldquo;I've
+      talked to him until I'm tired, and the longer I talk the more wild he is
+      to see you. Now it's your turn and there's no time to lose. I'll have him
+      here in five minutes,&rdquo; and he glanced at the clock. She raised her hand in
+      alarm:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't want him yet. You must see him first&mdash;you must&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I won't see him first, and I'm not going to wait a minute. Talk to
+      him yourself; put your arms around him and tell him everything you have
+      told me&mdash;now&mdash;to-night. I'm going for him,&rdquo; and he sprang to his
+      feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&mdash;you must not! You SHALL not!&rdquo; she cried, clutching nervously at
+      his arm, but he was out of the room before she could stop him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the silent hall, hat in hand, his whole body tense with expectancy,
+      stood Harry. He had killed time by walking up and down the long strip of
+      carpet between the front door and the staircase, measuring his nervous
+      steps to the length of the pattern, his mind distracted by his fears for
+      the outcome&mdash;his heart thumping away at his throat, a dull fright
+      gripping him when he thought of losing her altogether.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George's quick step, followed by his firm clutch of the inside knob,
+      awoke him to consciousness. He sprang forward to catch his first word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can I go in?&rdquo; he stammered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George grabbed him by the shoulder, wheeled him around, and faced him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you reprobate, and when you get in go down on your knees and beg her
+      pardon, and if I ever catch you causing her another heartache I'll break
+      your damned neck!&mdash;do you hear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the shutting of the swinging gate the wily old diplomat regained his
+      normal good-humored poise, his face beaming, his whole body tingling at
+      his success. He knew what was going on behind the closed curtains, and
+      just how contrite and humble the boy would be, and how Kate would scold
+      and draw herself up&mdash;proud duchess that she was&mdash;and how Harry
+      would swear by the nine gods, and an extra one if need be&mdash;and then
+      there would come a long, long silence, broken by meaningless, half-spoken
+      words&mdash;and then another silence&mdash;so deep and absorbing that a
+      full choir of angels might have started an anthem above their heads and
+      neither of them would have heard a word or note.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And so he kept on his way, picking his steps between the moist places in
+      the path to avoid soiling his freshly varnished boots; tightening the
+      lower button of his snug-fitting plum-colored coat as a bracing to his
+      waist-line; throwing open the collar of his overcoat the wider to give his
+      shoulders the more room&mdash;very happy&mdash;very well satisfied with
+      himself, with the world, and with everybody who lived in it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER III
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Moorlands was ablaze!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      From the great entrance gate flanked by moss-stained brick posts capped
+      with stone balls, along the avenue of oaks to the wide portico leading to
+      the great hall and spacious rooms, there flared one continuous burst of
+      light. On either side of the oak-bordered driveway, between the
+      tree-trunks, crackled torches of pine knots, the glow of their curling
+      flames bringing into high relief the black faces of innumerable
+      field-hands from the Rutter and neighboring plantations, lined up on
+      either side of the gravel road&mdash;teeth and eyeballs flashing white
+      against the blackness of the night. Under the porches hung festoons of
+      lanterns of every conceivable form and color, while inside the wide
+      baronial hall, and in the great drawing-room with the apartments beyond,
+      the light of countless candles, clustered together in silver candelabras,
+      shed a soft glow over the groups of waiting guests.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To-night Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands, direct descendant of the
+      house of De Ruyter, with an ancestry dating back to the Spanish Invasion,
+      was to bid official welcome to a daughter of the house of Seymour, equally
+      distinguished by flood and field in the service of its king. These two&mdash;God
+      be thanked&mdash;loved each other, and now that the young heir to
+      Moorlands was to bring home his affianced bride, soon to become his wedded
+      wife, no honor could be too great, no expense too lavish, no welcome too
+      joyful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Moreover, that this young princess of the blood might be accorded all the
+      honors due her birth, lineage, and rank, the colonel's own coach-and-four,
+      with two postilions and old Matthew on the box&mdash;twenty years in the
+      service&mdash;his whip tied with forget-me-nots, the horses' ears
+      streaming with white ribbons&mdash;each flank as smooth as satin and each
+      panel bright as a mirror&mdash;had been trundled off to Kennedy Square,
+      there to receive the fairest of all her daughters, together with such
+      other members of her royal suite&mdash;including His Supreme Excellency
+      the Honorable Prim&mdash;not forgetting, of course, Kate's old black
+      mammy, Henny, who was as much a part of the fair lady's belongings when
+      she went afield as her ostrich-plume fan, her white gloves, or the wee
+      slippers that covered her enchanting feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every detail of harness, wheel, and brake&mdash;even the horn itself&mdash;had
+      passed under the colonel's personal supervision; Matthew on the box
+      straight as a hitching-post and bursting with pride, reins gathered, whip
+      balanced, the leaders steady and the wheel horses in line. Then the word
+      had been given, and away they had swept round the circle and so on down
+      the long driveway to the outer gate and Kennedy Square. Ten miles an hour
+      were the colonel's orders and ten miles an hour must Matthew make,
+      including the loading and unloading of his fair passenger and her
+      companions, or there would be the devil to pay on his return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the inside of the house offered no less a welcome. Drawn up in the
+      wide hall, under the direct command of old Alec, the head butler, were the
+      house servants;&mdash;mulatto maids in caps, snuff-colored second butlers
+      in livery, jet-black mammies in new bandannas and white aprons&mdash;all
+      in a flutter of excitement, and each one determined to get the first
+      glimpse of Marse Harry's young lady, no matter at what risk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Alec himself was a joy to look upon&mdash;eyeballs and teeth gleaming, his
+      face one wide, encircling smile. Marse Harry was the apple of his eye, and
+      had been ever since the day of his birth. He had carried him on his back
+      when a boy; had taught him to fish and hunt and to ride to hounds; had
+      nursed him when he fell ill at the University in his college days, and
+      would gladly have laid down his life for him had any such necessity
+      arisen. To-night, in honor of the occasion, he was rigged out in a new
+      bottle-green coat with shiny brass buttons, white waistcoat, white gloves
+      three sizes too big for him, and a huge white cravat flaring out almost to
+      the tips of his ears. Nothing was too good for Alec&mdash;so his mistress
+      thought&mdash;and for the best of reasons. Not only was he the ideal
+      servant of the old school, but he was the pivot on which the whole
+      establishment moved. If a particular brand or vintage was needed, or a key
+      was missing, or did a hair trunk, or a pair of spurs, or last week's
+      Miscellany, go astray&mdash;or even were his mistress's spectacles mislaid&mdash;Alec
+      could put his hand upon each and every item in so short a space of time
+      that the loser was convinced the old man had hidden them on purpose, to
+      enjoy their refinding. Moorlands without old Alec would hive been a wheel
+      without a hub.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As a distinct feature of all these preparations&mdash;and this was the
+      best part of the programme&mdash;Harry was to meet Kate at the outer gate
+      supported by half a dozen of his young friends and hers&mdash;Dr. Teackle,
+      Mark Gilbert, Langdon Willits, and one or two others&mdash;while Mrs.
+      Rutter, Mrs. Cheston, Mrs. Richard Horn, and a bevy of younger women and
+      girls were to welcome her with open arms the moment her dainty feet
+      cleared the coach's step. This was the way princesses of the blood had
+      been welcomed from time immemorial to palaces and castles high, and this
+      was the way their beloved Kate was to make entry into the home of her
+      lord.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon the flash of the coach lamps was seen outside the far gate. Then
+      there came the wind of a horn&mdash;a rollicking, rolling, gladsome sound,
+      and in the wink of an eyelid every one was out on the portico straining
+      their eyes, listening eagerly. A joyous shout now went up from the negroes
+      lining the fences; from the groups about the steps and along the driveway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here she comes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The leaders with a swing pranced into view as they cleared the gate posts.
+      There came a moment's halt at the end of the driveway; a postilion vaulted
+      down, threw wide the coach door and a young man sprang in. It was
+      Harry!... Snap!! Crack!! Toot&mdash;toot!!&mdash;and they were off again,
+      heading straight for the waiting group. Another prolonged, winding note&mdash;louder&mdash;nearer&mdash;one
+      of triumph this time!&mdash;a galloping, circling dash toward the porch
+      crowded with guests&mdash;the reining in of panting leaders&mdash;the
+      sudden gathering up of the wheel horses, back on their haunches&mdash;the
+      coach door flung wide and out stepped Kate&mdash;Harry's hand in hers, her
+      old mammy behind, her father last of all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, such a lovely drive! and it was so kind of you, dear colonel, to send
+      for me! Oh, it was splendid! And Matthew galloped most all the way.&rdquo; She
+      had come as a royal princess, but she was still our Kate. &ldquo;And you are all
+      out here to meet me!&rdquo; Here she kissed Harry's mother&mdash;&ldquo;and you too,
+      Uncle George&mdash;and Sue&mdash;Oh, how fine you all look!&rdquo;&mdash;and
+      with a curtsy and a joyous laugh and a hand-clasp here and there, she bent
+      her head and stepped into the wide hall under the blaze of the clustered
+      candles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was then that they caught their breaths, for no such vision of beauty
+      had ever before stood in the wide hall of Moorlands, her eyes shining like
+      two stars above the rosy hue of her cheek; her skin like a shell, her
+      throat and neck a lily in color and curves. And her poise; her
+      gladsomeness; her joy at being alive and at finding everybody else alive;
+      the way she moved and laughed and bent her pretty head; the ripples of gay
+      laughter and the low-pitched tone of the warm greetings that fell from her
+      lips!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No wonder Harry was bursting with pride; no wonder Langdon Willits heaved
+      a deep sigh when he caught the glance that Kate flashed at Harry and went
+      out on the porch to get a breath of fresh air; no wonder St. George's
+      heart throbbed as he watched them both and thought how near all this
+      happiness had come to being wrecked; no wonder the servants tumbled over
+      each other in their eagerness to get a view of her face and gown, and no
+      wonder, too, that the proud, old colonel who ruled his house with a rod of
+      iron, determined for the first time in his life to lay down the sceptre
+      and give Kate and Harry full sway to do whatever popped into their two
+      silly heads.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And our young Lochinvar was fully her match in bearing, dress, and
+      manners,&mdash;every inch a prince and every inch a Rutter,&mdash;and with
+      such grace of movement as he stepped beside her, that even punctilious,
+      outspoken old Mrs. Cheston&mdash;who had forgiven him his escapade, and
+      who was always laughing at what she called the pump-handle shakes of some
+      of the underdone aristocrats about her, had to whisper to the nearest
+      guest&mdash;&ldquo;Watch Harry, my dear, if you would see how a thoroughbred
+      manages his legs and arms when he wishes to do honor to a woman.
+      Admirable!&mdash;charming! No young man of my time ever did better.&rdquo; And
+      Mrs. Cheston knew, for she had hobnobbed with kings and queens, her
+      husband having represented his government at the Court of St. James&mdash;which
+      fact, however, never prevented her from calling a spade a spade; nor was
+      she ever very particular as to what the spade unearthed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yes&mdash;a very gallant and handsome young man was our prince as he
+      handed Kate up the stairs on her way to the dressing-room, and looked it
+      in his pearl-gray coat with buttons of silver, fluffy white silk scarf,
+      high dog-eared collar, ivory-white waistcoat, and tight-fitting trousers
+      of nankeen yellow, held close to the pumps with invisible straps. And a
+      very gallant and handsome young fellow he felt himself to be on this night
+      of his triumph, and so thought Kate&mdash;in fact she had fallen in love
+      with him over again&mdash;and so too did every one of the young girls who
+      crowded about them, as well as the dominating, erect aristocrat of a
+      father, and the anxious gentle mother, who worshipped the ground on which
+      he walked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate had noted every expression that crossed his face, absorbing him in
+      one comprehensive glance as he stood in the full blaze of the candles, her
+      gaze lingering on his mouth and laughing eyes and the soft sheen of his
+      brown hair, its curved-in ends brushing the high velvet collar of his coat&mdash;and
+      so on down his shapely body to his shapely feet. Never had she seen him so
+      adorable&mdash;and he was all her own, and for life!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for our dear St. George Temple, who had never taken his eyes off them,
+      he thought they were the goodliest pair the stars ever shone upon, and
+      this his happiest night. There would be no more stumbling after this. Kate
+      had the bridle well in hand now; all she needed was a clear road, and that
+      was ahead of both horse and rider.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Makes your blood jump in your veins, just to look at them, doesn't it,
+      Talbot?&rdquo; cried St. George to Harry's father when Kate disappeared&mdash;laying
+      his hand as he spoke on the shoulder of the man with whom he had grown up
+      from a boy. &ldquo;Is there anything so good as the love of a good woman?&mdash;the
+      wise old prophet places her beyond the price of rubies.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only one thing, St. George&mdash;the love of a good man&mdash;one like
+      yourself, you dear old fellow. And why the devil you haven't found that
+      out years ago is more than I can understand. Here you are my age, and you
+      might have had a Kate and Harry of your own by this time, and yet you live
+      a stupid old&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I won't hear you talk so, colonel!&rdquo; cried a bride of a year. &ldquo;Uncle
+      George is never stupid, and he couldn't be old. What would all these young
+      girls do&mdash;what would I have done&rdquo; (another love affair with St.
+      George as healer and mender!)&mdash;&ldquo;what would anybody have done without
+      him? Come, Miss Lavinia&mdash;do you hear the colonel abusing Uncle George
+      because he isn't married? Speak up for him&mdash;it's wicked of you,
+      colonel, to talk so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Miss Lavinia Clendenning, who was one of St. George's very own, in spite
+      of her forty-odd years, threw back her head until the feathers in her
+      slightly gray hair shook defiantly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;I won't say a word for him, Sue. I've given him up forever. He's
+      a disgrace to everybody who knows him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, you renegade!&rdquo; exclaimed St. George in mock alarm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&mdash;a positive disgrace! He'll never marry anybody, Sue, until he
+      marries me. I've begged him on my knees until I'm tired, to name the day,
+      and he won't! Just like all you shiftless Marylanders, sir&mdash;never
+      know when to make up your minds.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you threw me over, Lavinia, and broke my heart,&rdquo; laughed Temple with
+      a low bow, his palms flattened against his waistcoat in assumed humility.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, twenty years ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, my goodness gracious! Of course I threw you over then;&mdash;you were
+      just a baby in arms and I was old enough to be your mother&mdash;but now
+      it's different. I'm dying to get married and nobody wants me. If you were
+      a Virginian instead of a doubting Marylander, you would have asked me a
+      hundred times and kept on asking until I gave in. Now it's too late. I
+      always intended to give in, but you were so stupid you couldn't or
+      wouldn't understand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's never too late to mend, Lavinia,&rdquo; he prayed with hands extended.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's too late to mend you, St. George! You are cracked all over, and as
+      for me&mdash;I'm ready to fall to pieces any minute. I'm all tied up now
+      with corset laces and stays and goodness knows what else. No&mdash;I'm
+      done with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      While this merry badinage was going on, the young people crowding the
+      closer so as not to lose a word, or making room for the constant stream of
+      fresh arrivals on their way toward the dressing-rooms above, their eyes
+      now and then searching the top of the stairs in the hope of getting the
+      first glimpse of Kate, our heroine was receiving the final touches from
+      her old black mammy. It took many minutes. The curl must be adjusted, the
+      full skirts pulled out or shaken loose, the rare jewels arranged before
+      she was dismissed with&mdash;&ldquo;Dah, honey chile, now go-long. Ain't nary
+      one on 'em ain't pizen hongry for ye&mdash;any mos' on 'em 'll drown
+      derselves 'fo' mawnin' becos dey can't git ye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She is ready now, Harry beside her, her lace scarf embroidered with pink
+      rosebuds floating from her lovely shoulders, her satin skirt held firmly
+      in both hands that she might step the freer, her dainty silk stockings
+      with the ribbons crossed about her ankles showing below its edge.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But it was the colonel who took possession of her when she reached the
+      floor of the great hall, and not her father nor her lover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Harry&mdash;stand aside, sir. Out with you! Kate goes in with me!
+      Seymour, please give your arm to Mrs. Rutter.&rdquo; And with the manner of a
+      courtier leading a princess into the presence of her sovereign, the Lord
+      of Moorlands swept our Lady of Kennedy Square into the brilliant
+      drawing-room crowded with guests.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a great ball and it was a great ballroom&mdash;in spaciousness,
+      color, and appointments. No one had ever dreamed of its possibilities
+      before, although everybody knew it was the largest in the county. The
+      gentle hostess, with old Alec as head of the pulling-out-and-moving-off
+      department, had wrought the change. All the chairs, tables, sofas, and
+      screens, little and big, had either been spirited away or pushed back
+      against the wall for tired dancers. Over the wide floor was stretched a
+      linen crash; from the ceiling and bracketed against the white walls,
+      relieved here and there by long silken curtains of gold-yellow, blazed
+      clusters of candles, looking for all the world like so many bursting
+      sky-rockets, while at one end, behind a mass of flowering plants, sat a
+      quartette of musicians, led by an old darky with a cotton-batting head,
+      who had come all the way from Philadelphia a-purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor had the inner man been forgotten: bowls of hot apple toddy steamed
+      away in the dining-room; bowls of eggnog frothed away in the library;
+      ladlings of punch, and the contents of several old cut-glass decanters,
+      flanked by companies of pipe-stem glasses, were being served in the
+      dressing-rooms; while relays of hot terrapin, canvas-back duck, sizzling
+      hot; olio, cold joints; together with every conceivable treatment and
+      condition of oysters&mdash;in scallop shells, on silver platters and in
+      wooden plates&mdash;raw, roasted, fried, broiled, baked, and stewed&mdash;everything
+      in fact that could carry out the colonel's watchword, &ldquo;Eat, drink, and be
+      merry,&rdquo; were within the beck and call of each and every guest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And there were to be no interludes of hunger and thirst if the host could
+      help it. No dull pauses nor recesses, but one continued round, lasting
+      until midnight, at which hour the final banquet in the dining-room was to
+      be served, and the great surprise of the evening reached&mdash;the formal
+      announcement of Harry and Kate's engagement, followed by the opening of
+      the celebrated bottle of the Jefferson 1800 Monticello Madeira, recorked
+      at our young hero's birth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And it goes without saying that there were no interludes. The fun began at
+      once, a long line of merry talk and laughter following the wake of the
+      procession, led by the host and Kate, the colonel signalling at last to
+      the cotton-batting with the goggle spectacles, who at once struck up a
+      polka and away they all went, Harry and Kate in the lead, the whole room
+      in a whirl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This over and the dancers out of breath, Goggles announced a quadrille&mdash;the
+      colonel and St. George helping to form the sets. Then followed the
+      schottische, then another polka until everybody was tired out, and then
+      with one accord the young couples rushed from the hot room, hazy with the
+      dust of lint from the linen crash, and stampeded for the cool wide stairs
+      that led from the great hall. For while in summer the shadows on some
+      vine-covered porch swallowed the lovers, in winter the stairs were
+      generally the trysting-place&mdash;and the top step the one most sought&mdash;because
+      there was nobody behind to see. This was the roost for which Kate and
+      Harry scampered, and there they intended to sit until the music struck up
+      again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, Kate, you precious darling, how lovely you look!&rdquo; burst out Harry for
+      the hundredth time when she had nestled down beside him&mdash;&ldquo;and what a
+      wonderful gown! I never saw that one before, did I?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;you never have,&rdquo; she panted, her breath gone from her dance and
+      the dash for the staircase. &ldquo;It's my dear mother's dress, and her scarf
+      too. I had very little done to it&mdash;only the skirt made wider. Isn't
+      it soft and rich? Grandpa used to bring these satins from China.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the pearls&mdash;are they the ones you told me about?&rdquo; He was
+      adjusting them to her throat as he spoke&mdash;somehow he could not keep
+      his hands from her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;mother's jewels. Father got them out of his strong-box for me
+      this morning. He wanted me to wear them to-night. He says I can have them
+      all now. She must have been very beautiful, Harry&mdash;and just think,
+      dear&mdash;she was only a few years older than I am when she died.
+      Sometimes when I wear her things and get to thinking about her, and
+      remember how young and beautiful she was and how unhappy her life, it
+      seems as if I must be unhappy myself&mdash;somehow as if it were not right
+      to have all this happiness when she had none.&rdquo; There was a note of
+      infinite pathos in her voice&mdash;a note one always heard when she spoke
+      of her mother. Had Harry looked deeper into her eyes he might have found
+      the edges of two tears trembling on their lids.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She never was as beautiful as you, my darling&mdash;nobody ever was&mdash;nobody
+      ever could be!&rdquo; he cried, ignoring all allusion to her mother. Nothing
+      else counted with the young fellow to-night&mdash;all he knew and cared
+      for was that Kate was his very own, and that all the world would soon know
+      it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's because you love me, Harry. You have only to look at her portrait
+      in father's room to see how exquisite she was. I can never be like her&mdash;never
+      so gracious, so patient, no matter how hard I try.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He put his fingers on her lips: &ldquo;I won't have you say it. I won't let
+      anybody say it. I could hardly speak when I saw you in the full light of
+      the hall. It was so dark in the coach I didn't know how you looked, and I
+      didn't care; I was so glad to get hold of you. But when your cloak slipped
+      from your shoulders and you&mdash;Oh!&mdash;you darling Kate!&rdquo; His eye
+      caught the round of her throat and the taper of her lovely arm&mdash;&ldquo;I am
+      going to kiss you right here&mdash;I will&mdash;I don't care who&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She threw up her hands with a little laugh. She liked him the better for
+      daring, although she was afraid to yield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;NO&mdash;Harry! They will see us&mdash;don't&mdash;you mustn't!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mustn't what! I tell you, Kate, I am going to kiss you&mdash;I don't care
+      what you say or who sees me. It's been a year since I kissed you in the
+      coach&mdash;forty years&mdash;now, you precious Kate, what difference does
+      it make? I will, I tell you&mdash;no&mdash;don't turn your head away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She was struggling feebly, her elbow across her face as a shield, meaning
+      all the time to raise her lips to his, when her eyes fell on the figure of
+      a young man making his way toward them. Instantly her back straightened.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There's Langdon Willits at the bottom of the stairs talking to Mark
+      Gilbert,&rdquo; she whispered in dismay. &ldquo;See&mdash;he is coming up. I wonder
+      what he wants.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry gathered himself together and his face clouded. &ldquo;I wish he was at
+      the bottom of the sea. I don't like Willits&mdash;I never did. Neither
+      does Uncle George. Besides, he's in love with you, and he always has
+      been.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What nonsense, Harry,&rdquo; she answered, opening her fan and waving it
+      slowly. She knew her lover was right&mdash;knew more indeed than her lover
+      could ever know: she had used all the arts of which she was mistress to
+      keep Willits from proposing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he IS in love with you,&rdquo; Harry insisted stiffly. &ldquo;Won't he be
+      fighting mad, though, when he hears father announce our engagement at
+      supper?&rdquo; Then some tone in her voice recalled that night on the sofa when
+      she still held out against his pleading, and with it came the thought that
+      while she could be persuaded she could never be driven. Instantly his
+      voice changed to its most coaxing tones: &ldquo;You won't dance with him, will
+      you, Kate darling? I can't bear to see you in anybody else's arms but my
+      own.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her hand grasped his wrist with a certain meaning in the pressure.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now don't be a goose, Harry. I must be polite to everybody, especially
+      to-night&mdash;and you wouldn't have me otherwise.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, but not to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what difference does it make? You are too sensible not to understand,
+      and I am too happy, anyway, to want to be rude to anybody. And then you
+      should never be jealous of Langdon Willits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, not a round dance, please, Kate.&rdquo; He dare not oppose her
+      further. &ldquo;I couldn't stand a round dance. I won't have his arm touch you,
+      my darling.&rdquo; And he bent his cheek close to hers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him from under her shadowed lids as she had looked at St.
+      George when she greeted him at the foot of the stairs; a gleam of
+      coquetry, of allurement, of joy shining through her glances like delicate
+      antennae searching to feel where her power lay. Should she venture, as her
+      Uncle George had suggested, to take the reins in her own hands and guide
+      this restive, mettlesome thoroughbred, or should she surrender to him?
+      Then a certain mischievous coquetry possessed her. With a light, bubbling
+      laugh she drew her cheek away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, any kind of a dance that he or anybody else wants that I can give
+      him,&rdquo; she burst out with a coquettish twist of her head, her eyes brimming
+      with fun.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I'm on your card for every single dance,&rdquo; he demanded, his eyes again
+      flashing. &ldquo;Look at it&mdash;I filled it up myself,&rdquo; and he held up his own
+      bit of paste-board so she could read the list. &ldquo;I tell you I won't have
+      his arm around you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, he sha'n't touch even the tips of my fingers, you dreadful
+      Mr. Bluebeard.&rdquo; She had surrendered now. He was never so compelling as
+      when determined to have his own way. Again her whole manner changed; she
+      was once more the sweetheart: &ldquo;Don't let us bother about cards, my
+      darling, or dances, or anything. Let us talk of how lovely it is to be
+      together again. Don't you think so, Harry?&rdquo; and she snuggled the closer to
+      his arm, her soft cheek against his coat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before Harry could answer, young Willits, who had been edging his way up
+      the stairs two steps at a time, avoiding the skirts of the girls, reaching
+      over the knees of the men as he clung to the hand-rail, stood on the step
+      below them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's my next dance, Miss Kate, isn't it?&rdquo; he asked eagerly, scanning her
+      face&mdash;wondering why she looked so happy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What is it to be, Mr. Willits?&rdquo; she rejoined in perfunctory tones,
+      glancing at her own blank card hanging to her wrist: he was the last man
+      in the world she wanted to see at this moment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The schottische, I think&mdash;yes, the schottische,&rdquo; he replied
+      nervously, noticing her lack of warmth and not understanding the cause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm all out of breath&mdash;if you don't mind,&rdquo; she continued
+      evasively; &ldquo;we'll wait for the next one.&rdquo; She dared not invite him to sit
+      down, knowing it would make Harry furious&mdash;and then again she
+      couldn't stand one discordant note to-night&mdash;she was too blissfully
+      happy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the next one is mine,&rdquo; exclaimed Harry suddenly, examining his own
+      dancing-card. He had not shifted his position a hair's breadth, nor did he
+      intend to&mdash;although he had been outwardly polite to the intruder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;they'd all be yours, Harry, if you had your way,&rdquo; this in a
+      thin, dry tone&mdash;&ldquo;but you mustn't forget that Miss Kate's free, white,
+      and twenty-one, and can do as she pleases.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry's lips straightened. He did not like Willits's manner and he was
+      somewhat shocked at his expression; it seemed to smack more of the cabin
+      than of the boudoir&mdash;especially the boudoir of a princess like his
+      precious Kate. He noticed, too, that the young man's face was flushed and
+      his utterance unusually rapid, and he knew what had caused it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They will be just what Miss Seymour wants them to be, Willits.&rdquo; The words
+      came in hard, gritting tones through half-closed lips, and the tightening
+      of his throat muscles. This phase of the Rutter blood was dangerous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate was startled. Harry must not lose his self-control. There must be no
+      misunderstandings on this the happiest night of her life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; she said sweetly, with a gracious bend of her head&mdash;&ldquo;but I do
+      want to dance with Mr. Willits, only I don't know which one to give him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then give me the Virginia reel, Miss Kate, the one that comes just before
+      supper, and we can go all in together&mdash;you too, Harry,&rdquo; Willits
+      insisted eagerly. &ldquo;See, Miss Kate&mdash;your card is still empty,&rdquo; and he
+      turned toward her the face of the one hanging to her wrist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, never the reel, Kate, that is mine!&rdquo; burst out Harry determinedly, as
+      a final dismissal to Willits. He lowered his voice, and in a beseeching
+      tone said&mdash;&ldquo;Father's set his heart on our dancing the reel together&mdash;please
+      don't give him the reel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate, intent on restoring harmony, arched her neck coyly, and said in her
+      most bewitching tones&mdash;the notes of a robin after a shower: &ldquo;Well, I
+      can't tell yet, Mr. Willits, but you shall have one or the other; just
+      leave it to me&mdash;either the reel or the schottische. We will talk it
+      over when I come down.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it's the reel, Miss Kate, is it not?&rdquo; he cried, ignoring Harry
+      completely, backing away as he retraced his steps, a look of triumph on
+      his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She shook her head at him, but she did not answer. She wanted to get rid
+      of him as quickly as possible. Willits had spoiled everything. She was so
+      happy before he came, and Harry was so adorable. She wished now she had
+      not drawn away her cheek when he tried to kiss her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be angry, Harry, dear,&rdquo; she pleaded coaxingly, determined to get
+      her lover back once more. &ldquo;He didn't mean anything&mdash;he only wanted to
+      be polite.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He didn't want to be polite,&rdquo; the angry lover retorted. &ldquo;He meant to
+      force himself in between us; that is what he meant, and he's always at it,
+      every chance he gets. He tried it at Mrs. Cheston's the other night until
+      I put a stop to it, but there's one thing certain&mdash;he'll stop it when
+      our engagement is announced after supper or I'll know the reason why.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate caught her breath. A new disturbing thought entered her mind. It was
+      at Mrs. Cheston's that both Willits and Harry had misbehaved themselves,
+      and it was Harry's part in the sequel which she had forgiven. The least
+      said about that night the better.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he is your guest, Harry,&rdquo; she urged at last, still determined to
+      divert his thoughts from Willits and the loss of the dance&mdash;&ldquo;OUR
+      guest,&rdquo; she went on&mdash;&ldquo;so is everybody else here to-night, and we must
+      do what everybody wants us to, not be selfish about it. Now, my darling&mdash;you
+      couldn't be impolite to anybody&mdash;don't you know you couldn't? Mrs.
+      Cheston calls you 'My Lord Chesterfield'&mdash;I heard her say so
+      to-night.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I know, Kate&rdquo;&mdash;he softened&mdash;&ldquo;that's what father said about
+      my being polite to him&mdash;but all the same I didn't want Willits
+      invited, and it's only because father insisted that he's here. Of course,
+      I'm going to be just as polite to him as I can, but even father would feel
+      differently about him if he had heard what he said to you a minute ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he say?&rdquo; She knew, but she loved to hear him defend her. This,
+      too, was a way out&mdash;in a minute he would be her old Harry again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I won't even repeat it,&rdquo; he answered doggedly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean about my being twenty-one? That was rather ungallant, wasn't
+      it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again that long look from under her eyelids&mdash;he would have succumbed
+      at once could he have seen it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, the other part of it. That's not the way to speak to a lady. That's
+      what I dislike him for. He never was born a gentleman. He isn't a
+      gentleman and never can be a gentleman.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate drew herself up&mdash;the unreasonableness of the objection jarred
+      upon her. He had touched one of her tender spots&mdash;pride of birth was
+      something she detested.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't talk nonsense, Harry,&rdquo; she replied in a slightly impatient voice.
+      Moods changed with our Kate as unexpectedly as April showers. &ldquo;What
+      difference should it make to you or anybody else whether Langdon Willits's
+      grandmother was a countess or a country girl, so she was honest and a
+      lady?&rdquo; Her head went up with a toss as she spoke, for this was one of
+      Kate's pet theories.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he's not of my class, Kate, and he shouldn't be here. I told father
+      so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then make him one,&rdquo; she answered stoutly, &ldquo;if only for to-night, by being
+      extra polite and courteous to him and never letting him feel that he is
+      outside of what you call 'your class.' I like Mr. Willits, and have always
+      liked him. He is invariably polite to me, and he can be very kind and
+      sympathetic at times. Listen! they are calling us, and there goes the
+      music&mdash;come along, darling&mdash;it's a schottische and we'll dance
+      it together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry sprang up, slipped his arm around Kate's waist, lifted her to her
+      feet, held her close, and kissed her squarely on the mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, you darling! and another one&mdash;two&mdash;three! Oh, you
+      precious! What do I care about Willits or any other red-headed lower
+      county man that ever lived? He can have fifty grandmothers if he pleases
+      and I won't say a word&mdash;kiss me&mdash;kiss me again. Quick now or
+      we'll lose the dance,&rdquo; and, utterly oblivious as to whether any one had
+      seen them or not, the two raced down the wide stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      While all this gayety was going on in the ballroom another and equally
+      joyous gathering was besieging the serving tables in the colonel's private
+      den&mdash;a room leading out of the larger supper room, where he kept his
+      guns and shooting togs, and which had been pressed into service for this
+      one night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These thirsty gentlemen were of all ages and tastes, from the young men
+      just entering society to the few wrinkled bald-pates whose legs had given
+      out and who, therefore, preferred the colonel's Madeira and terrapin to
+      the lighter pleasures of the dance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In and out of the groups, his ruddy, handsome face radiant with the joy
+      that welled up in his heart, moved St. George Temple. Never had he been in
+      finer form or feather&mdash;never had he looked so well&mdash;(not all the
+      clothes that Poole of London cut came to Moorlands). Something of the same
+      glow filtered through him that he had felt on the night when the two
+      lovers had settled their difficulties, and he had swung back through the
+      park at peace with all the world.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All this could be seen in the way he threw back his head, smiling right
+      and left; the way he moved his hands&mdash;using them as some men do words
+      or their eyebrows&mdash;now uplifting them in surprise at the first
+      glimpse of some unexpected face, his long delicate fingers outspread in
+      exclamations of delight; now closing them tight when he had those of the
+      new arrival in his grasp&mdash;now curving them, palms up, as he lifted to
+      his lips the fingers of a grande dame. &ldquo;Keep your eyes on St. George,&rdquo;
+       whispered Mrs. Cheston, who never missed a point in friend or foe and
+      whose fun at a festivity often lay in commenting on her neighbors, praise
+      or blame being impartially mixed as her fancy was touched. &ldquo;And by all
+      means watch his hands, my dear. They are like the baton of an orchestra
+      leader and tell the whole story. Only men whose blood and lineage have
+      earned them freedom from toil, or men whose brains throb clear to their
+      finger-tips, have such hands. Yes! St. George is very happy to-night, and
+      I know why. He has something on his mind that he means to tell us later
+      on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Cheston was right: she generally was&mdash;St. George did have
+      something on his mind&mdash;something very particular on his mind&mdash;a
+      little speech really which was a dead secret to everybody except prying
+      Mrs. Cheston&mdash;one which was to precede the uncorking of that
+      wonderful old Madeira, and the final announcement of the engagement&mdash;a
+      little speech in which he meant to refer to their two dear mothers when
+      they were girls, recalling traits and episodes forgotten by most, but
+      which from their very loveliness had always lingered in his heart and
+      memory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before this important event took place, however, there were some matters
+      which he intended to look after himself, one of them being the bowl of
+      punch and its contiguous beverages in the colonel's den. This seemed to be
+      the storm centre to-night, and here he determined, even at the risk of
+      offending his host, to set up danger-signals at the first puff of wind.
+      The old fellows, if they chose, might empty innumerable ladles full of
+      apple toddy or compounds of Santa Cruz rum and pineapples into their own
+      persons, but not the younger bloods! His beloved Kate had suffered enough
+      because of these roysterers. There should be one ball around Kennedy
+      Square in which everybody would behave themselves, and he did not intend
+      to mince his words when the time came. He had discussed the matter with
+      the colonel when the ball opened, but little encouragement came from that
+      quarter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So far as these young sprigs are concerned, St. George,&rdquo; Rutter had
+      flashed back, &ldquo;they must look out for themselves. I can't curtail my
+      hospitality to suit their babyships. As for Harry, you're only wasting
+      your time. He is made of different stuff&mdash;it's not in his blood and
+      couldn't be. Whatever else he may become he will never be a sot. Let him
+      have his fling: once a Rutter, always a Rutter,&rdquo; and then, with a ring in
+      his voice, &ldquo;when my son ceases to be a gentleman, St. George, I will show
+      him the door, but drink will never do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dr. Teackle had also been on the alert. He was a young physician just
+      coming into practice, many of the younger set being his patients, and he
+      often acted as a curb when they broke loose. He, with St. George's
+      whispered caution in his ears, had also tried to frame a word of protest
+      to the colonel, suggesting in the mildest way that that particular bowl of
+      apple toddy be not replenished&mdash;but the Lord of the Manor had
+      silenced him with a withering glance before he had completed his sentence.
+      In this dilemma he had again sought out St. George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look out for Willits, Uncle George. He'll be staggering in among the
+      ladies if he gets another crack at that toddy. It's an infernal shame to
+      bring these relays of punch in here. I tried to warn the colonel, but he
+      came near eating me up. Willits has had very little experience in this
+      sort of thing and is mixing his eggnog with everything within his reach.
+      That will split his head wide open in the morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go and find him, Teackle, and bring him to me,&rdquo; cried St. George; &ldquo;I'll
+      stay here until you get him. Tell him I want to see him&mdash;and Alec&rdquo;&mdash;this
+      to the old butler who was skimming past, his hands laden with dishes&mdash;&ldquo;don't
+      you bring another drop of punch into this room until you see me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But de colonel say dat&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;I don't care what the colonel says; if he wants to know why, tell
+      him I ordered it. I'm not going to have this night spoiled by any
+      tomfoolery of Talbot's, I don't care what he says. You hear me, Alec? Not
+      a drop. Take out those half-empty bowls and don't you serve another
+      thimbleful of anything until I say so.&rdquo; Here he turned to the young
+      doctor, who seemed rather surprised at St. George's dictatorial air&mdash;one
+      rarely seen in him. &ldquo;Yes&mdash;brutal, I know, Teackle, and perhaps a
+      little ill-mannered, this interfering with another man's hospitality, but
+      if you knew how Kate has suffered over this same stupidity you would say I
+      was right. Talbot never thinks&mdash;never cares. Because he's got a head
+      as steady as a town clock and can put away a bottle of port without
+      winking an eyelid, he believes anybody else can do the same. I tell you
+      this sort of thing has got to stop or sooner or later these young bloods
+      will break the hearts of half the girls in town.... Careful! here comes
+      Willits&mdash;not another word.... Oh, Mr. Willits, here you are! I was
+      just going to send for you. I want to talk to you about that mare of yours&mdash;is
+      she still for sale?&rdquo; His nonchalance was delightful.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Mr. Temple; I had thought of keeping her, sir,&rdquo; the young man
+      rejoined blandly, greatly flattered at having been specially singled out
+      by the distinguished Mr. Temple. &ldquo;But if you are thinking of buying my
+      mare, I should be most delighted to consider it. If you will permit me&mdash;I
+      will call upon you in the morning.&rdquo; This last came with elaborate
+      effusiveness. &ldquo;But you haven't a drop of anything to drink, Mr. Temple,
+      nor you either, doctor! Egad! What am I thinking of! Come, won't you join
+      me? The colonel's mixtures are&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better wait, Mr. Willits,&rdquo; interrupted St. George calmly and with the air
+      of one conversant with the resources of the house. &ldquo;Alec has just taken
+      out a half-emptied bowl of toddy.&rdquo; He had seen at a glance that Teackle's
+      diagnosis of the young man's condition was correct.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then let us have a swig at the colonel's port&mdash;it's the best in the
+      county.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, hold on till the punch comes. You young fellows don't know how to
+      take care of your stomachs. You ought to stick to your tipple as you do to
+      your sweetheart&mdash;you should only have one.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;At a time,&rdquo; laughed Teackle.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, one ALL the time, you dog! When I was your age, Mr. Willits, if I
+      drank Madeira I continued to drink Madeira, not to mix it up with
+      everything on the table.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By Jove, you're right, Mr. Temple! I'm sticking to one girl&mdash;Miss
+      Kate's my girl to-night. I'm going to dance the Virginia reel with her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George eyed him steadily. He saw that the liquor had already reached
+      his head or he would not have spoken of Kate as he did. &ldquo;Your choice is
+      most admirable, Mr. Willits,&rdquo; he said suavely, &ldquo;but let Harry have Miss
+      Kate to-night,&rdquo; adding, as he laid his hand confidingly on the young man's
+      shoulder&mdash;&ldquo;they were made to step that dance together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But she said she would dance it with me!&rdquo; he flung back&mdash;he did not
+      mean to be defrauded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Really?&rdquo; It was wonderful how soft St. George's voice could be. Teackle
+      could not have handled a refractory patient the better.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that is,&rdquo; rejoined Willits, modified by Temple's tone&mdash;&ldquo;she is
+      to let me know&mdash;that was the bargain.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still another soft cadence crept into St. George's voice: &ldquo;Well, even if
+      she did say she would let you know, do be a little generous. Miss Seymour
+      is always so obliging; but she ought really to dance the reel with Harry
+      to-night.&rdquo; He used Kate's full name, but Willits's head was buzzing too
+      loudly for him to notice the delicately suggested rebuke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I don't see that, and I'm not going to see it, either. Harry's
+      always coming in between us; he tried to get Miss Kate away from me a
+      little while ago, but he didn't succeed.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Noblesse oblige, my dear Mr. Willits,&rdquo; rejoined St. George in a more
+      positive tone. &ldquo;He is host, you know, and the ball is given to Miss
+      Seymour, and Harry can do nothing else but be attentive.&rdquo; He felt like
+      strangling the cub, but it was neither the time nor place&mdash;nothing
+      should disturb Kate's triumph if he could help it. One way was to keep
+      Willits sober, and this he intended to do whether the young man liked it
+      or not&mdash;if he talked to him all night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it is my dance,&rdquo; Willits broke out. &ldquo;You ask him if it isn't my dance&mdash;he
+      heard what Miss Kate said. Here comes Harry now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Like a breath of west wind our young prince blew in, his face radiant, his
+      eyes sparkling. He had entirely forgotten the incident on the stairs in
+      the rapture of Kate's kisses, and Willits was once more one of the many
+      guests he was ready to serve and be courteous to.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, gentlemen&mdash;I hope you have everything you want!&rdquo; he cried with a
+      joyous wave of his hand. &ldquo;Where will I get an ice for Kate, Uncle George?
+      We are just about beginning the Virginia reel and she is so warm. Oh, we
+      have had such a lovely waltz! Why are you fellows not dancing? Send them
+      in, Uncle George.&rdquo; He was brimming over with happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Willits moved closer: &ldquo;What did you say? The Virginia reel? Has it begun?&rdquo;
+       His head was too muddled for quick thinking.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not yet, Willits, but it will right away&mdash;everybody is on the floor
+      now,&rdquo; returned Harry, his eyes in search of something to hold Kate's
+      refreshment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it is my dance, Harry. I thought the reel was to be just before
+      supper or I would have hunted Miss Kate up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So it is,&rdquo; laughed Harry, catching up an empty plate from the serving
+      table and moving to where the ices were spread. &ldquo;You ought to know, for
+      you told her yourself. It is about to begin. They were taking their
+      partners when I left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then that's MY reel,&rdquo; Willits insisted. &ldquo;You heard what Miss Kate said,
+      Harry&mdash;that's what I told you too, Mr. Temple,&rdquo; and he turned to St.
+      George for confirmation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, but you are mistaken, Langdon,&rdquo; continued Harry, bending over the
+      dish. &ldquo;She said she would decide later on whether to give you the reel or
+      a schottische&mdash;and she has. Miss Kate dances this reel with me.&rdquo;
+       There was a flash in his eye as he spoke, but he was still the host.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I suppose you will want the one after supper too,&rdquo; snapped Willits.
+      He had edged closer and was now speaking to Harry's bent back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, certainly, if Miss Kate is willing and wishes it,&rdquo; rejoined Harry
+      simply, still too intent on having the ice reach his sweetheart at the
+      earliest possible moment to notice either Willits's condition or his tone
+      of voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Willits sprang forward just as Harry regained his erect position. &ldquo;No you
+      won't, sir!&rdquo; he cried angrily. &ldquo;I've got some rights here and I'm going to
+      protect them. I'll ask Miss Kate myself and find out whether I am to be
+      made a fool of like this,&rdquo; and before St. George could prevent started for
+      the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry dropped the plate on the table and blocked the enraged man's exit
+      with his outstretched arm. He was awake now&mdash;wide awake&mdash;and to
+      the cause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll do nothing of the kind, Langdon&mdash;not in your present state.
+      Pull yourself together, man! Miss Seymour is not accustomed to be spoken
+      of in that way and you know it. Now don't be foolish&mdash;stay here with
+      Uncle George and the doctor until you cool down. There are the best of
+      reasons why I should dance the reel with Miss Kate, but I can't explain
+      them now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Neither am I, Mr. Harry Rutter, accustomed to be spoken to in that way by
+      you or anybody else. I don't care a rap for your explanations. Get out of
+      my way, or you'll be sorry,&rdquo; and he sprang one side and flung himself out
+      of the room before Harry could realize the full meaning of his words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George saw the flash in the boy's eyes, and stretching out his hand
+      laid it on Harry's arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Steady, my boy! Let him go&mdash;Kate will take care of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No! I'll take care of him!&mdash;and now!&rdquo; He was out of the room and the
+      door shut behind him before Temple could frame a reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George shot an anxious, inquiring look at Teackle, who nodded his head
+      in assent, and the two hurried from the room and across the expanse of
+      white crash, Willits striding ahead, Harry at his heels, St. George and
+      the doctor following close behind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate stood near the far door, her radiant eyes fixed on Harry's
+      approaching figure&mdash;the others she did not see. Willits reached her
+      first:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Miss Kate, isn't this my dance?&rdquo; he burst out&mdash;&ldquo;didn't you promise
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate started and for a moment her face flushed. If she had forgotten any
+      promise she had made it certainly was not intentional. Then her mind
+      acted. There must be no bad blood here&mdash;certainly not between Harry
+      and Willits.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not quite that, Mr. Willits,&rdquo; she answered in her sweetest voice, a
+      certain roguish coquetry in its tones. &ldquo;I said I'd think it over, and you
+      never came near me, and so Harry and I are&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you DID promise me.&rdquo; His voice could be heard all over the room&mdash;even
+      the colonel, who was talking to a group of ladies, raised his head to
+      listen, his companions thinking the commotion was due to the proper
+      arranging of the dance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry's eyes flashed; angry blood was mounting to his cheeks. He was
+      amazed at Willits's outburst.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean to contradict Miss Kate! Are you crazy, Willits?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I am entirely sane,&rdquo; he retorted, an ugly ring in his voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Everybody had ceased talking now. Good-natured disputes over the young
+      girls were not uncommon among the young men, but this one seemed to have
+      an ominous sound. Colonel Rutter evidently thought so, for he had now
+      risen from his seat and was crossing the room to where Harry and the group
+      stood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you neither act nor talk as if you were sane,&rdquo; rejoined Harry in
+      cold, incisive tones, inching his way nearer Kate, as if to be the better
+      prepared to defend her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Willits's lip curled. &ldquo;I am not beholden to you, sir, for my conduct,
+      although I can be later on for my words. Let me see your dancing-card,
+      Miss Kate,&rdquo; and he caught it from her unresisting hand. &ldquo;There&mdash;what
+      did I tell you!&rdquo; This came with a flare of indignation. &ldquo;It was a blank
+      when I saw it last and you've filled it in, sir, of your own accord!&rdquo; Here
+      he faced Harry. &ldquo;That's your handwriting&mdash;I'll leave it to you, Mr.
+      Temple, if it isn't his handwriting.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry flushed scarlet and his eyes blazed as he stepped toward the
+      speaker. Kate shrank back in alarm&mdash;she had read Harry's face and
+      knew what was behind it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take that back, Langdon&mdash;quick! You are my guest, but you mustn't
+      say things like that here. I put my name on the card because Miss Kate
+      asked me to. Take it back, sir&mdash;NOW!&mdash;and then make an humble
+      apology to Miss Seymour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll take back nothing! I've been cheated out of a dance. Here&mdash;take
+      her&mdash;and take this with her!&rdquo; and he tore Kate's card in half and
+      threw the pieces in his host's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the spring of a cat, Harry lunged forward and raised his arm as if to
+      strike Willits in the face: Willits drew himself up to his full height and
+      confronted him: Kate shrivelled within herself, all the color gone from
+      her cheeks. Whether to call out for help or withdraw quietly, was what
+      puzzled her. Both would concentrate the attention of the whole room on the
+      dispute.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George, who was boiling with indignation and disgust, but still cool
+      and himself, pushed his way into the middle of the group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a word, Harry,&rdquo; he whispered in low, frigid tones. &ldquo;This can be
+      settled in another way.&rdquo; Then in his kindest voice, so loud that all could
+      hear&mdash;&ldquo;Teackle, will you and Mr. Willits please meet me in the
+      colonel's den&mdash;that, perhaps, is the best place after all to
+      straighten out these tangles. I'll join you there as soon as I have Miss
+      Kate safely settled.&rdquo; He bent over her: &ldquo;Kate, dear, perhaps you had
+      better sit alongside of Mrs. Rutter until I can get these young fellows
+      cooled off&rdquo;&mdash;and in a still lower key&mdash;&ldquo;you behaved admirably,
+      my girl&mdash;admirably. I'm proud of you. Mr. Willits has had too much to
+      drink&mdash;that is what is the matter with him, but it will be all over
+      in a minute&mdash;and, Harry, my boy, suppose you help me look up
+      Teackle,&rdquo; and he laid his hand with an authoritative pressure on the boy's
+      arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel had by this time reached the group and stood trying to catch
+      the cue. He had heard the closing sentence of St. George's instructions,
+      but he had missed the provocation, although he had seen Harry's uplifted
+      fist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's the matter, St. George?&rdquo; he inquired nervously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just a little misunderstanding, Talbot, as to who was to dance with our
+      precious Kate,&rdquo; St. George answered with a laugh, as he gripped Harry's
+      arm the tighter. &ldquo;She is such a darling that it is as much as I can do to
+      keep these young Romeos from running each other through the body, they are
+      so madly in love with her. I am thinking of making off with her myself as
+      the only way to keep the peace. Yes, you dear girl, I'll come back. Hold
+      the music up for a little while, Talbot, until I can straighten them all
+      out,&rdquo; and with his arm still tight through Harry's, the two walked the
+      length of the room and closed the far door behind them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate looked after them and her heart sank all the lower. She knew the
+      feeling between the two men, and she knew Harry's hot, ungovernable temper&mdash;the
+      temper of the Rutters. Patient as he often was, and tender-hearted as he
+      could be, there flashed into his eyes now and then something that
+      frightened her&mdash;something that recalled an incident in the history of
+      his house. He had learned from his gentle mother to forgive affronts to
+      himself; she had seen him do it many times, overlooking what another man
+      would have resented, but an affront to herself or any other woman was a
+      different matter: that he would never forgive. She knew, too, that he had
+      just cause to be offended, for in all her life no one had ever been so
+      rude to her. That she herself was partly to blame only intensified her
+      anxiety. Willits loved her, for he had told her so, not once, but several
+      times, although she had answered him only with laughter. She should have
+      been honest and not played the coquette: and yet, although the fault was
+      partly her own, never had she been more astonished than at his outburst.
+      In all her acquaintance with him he had never lost his temper. Harry, of
+      course, would lay it to Willits's lack of breeding&mdash;to the taint in
+      his blood. But she knew better&mdash;it was the insanity produced by
+      drink, combined with his jealousy of Harry, which had caused the gross
+      outrage. If she had only told Willits herself of her betrothal and not
+      waited to surprise him before the assembled guests, it would have been
+      fairer and spared every one this scene.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All these thoughts coursed through her mind as with head still proudly
+      erect she crossed the room on the colonel's arm, to a seat beside her
+      future mother-in-law, who had noticed nothing, and to whom not a syllable
+      of the affair would have been mentioned, all such matters being invariably
+      concealed from the dear lady.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Mrs. Cheston, however, was more alert; not only had she caught the
+      anger in Harry's eyes, but she had followed the flight of the torn card as
+      its pieces fell to the floor. She had once been present at a reception
+      given by a prime minister when a similar fracas had occurred. Then it was
+      a lady's glove and not a dancing-card which was thrown in a rival's face,
+      and it was a rapier that flashed and not a clenched fist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was the matter over there, Talbot?&rdquo; she demanded, speaking from
+      behind her fan when the colonel came within hearing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing! Some little disagreement about who should lead the Virginia reel
+      with Kate. I have stopped the music until they fix it up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't talk nonsense, Talbot Rutter, not to me. There was bad blood over
+      there&mdash;you better look after them. There'll be trouble if you don't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel tucked the edge of a rebellious ruffle inside his embroidered
+      waistcoat and with a quiet laugh said: &ldquo;St. George is attending to them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;St. George is as big a fool as you are about such things. Go, I tell you,
+      and see what they are doing in there with the door shut.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear Mrs. Cheston,&rdquo; echoed her host with a deprecating wave of
+      his hand&mdash;&ldquo;my Harry would no more attack a man under his own roof
+      than you would cut off your right hand. He's not born that way&mdash;none
+      of us are.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You talk like a perfect idiot, Talbot!&rdquo; she retorted angrily. &ldquo;You seem
+      to have forgotten everything you knew. These young fellows here are so
+      many tinder boxes. There will be trouble I tell you&mdash;go out there and
+      find out what is going on,&rdquo; she reiterated, her voice increasing in
+      intensity. &ldquo;They've had time enough to fix up a dozen Virginia reels&mdash;and
+      besides, Kate is waiting, and they know it. Look! there's some one coming
+      out&mdash;it's that young Teackle. Call him over here and find out!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor, who had halted at the door, was now scrutinizing the faces of
+      the guests as if in search of some one. Then he moved swiftly to the far
+      side of the room, touched Mark Gilbert, Harry's most intimate friend, on
+      the shoulder, and the two left the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate sat silent, a fixed smile on her face that ill concealed her anxiety.
+      She had heard every word of the talk between Mrs. Cheston and the colonel,
+      but she did not share the old lady's alarm as to any actual conflict. She
+      would trust Uncle George to avoid that. But what kept Harry? Why leave her
+      thus abruptly and send no word back? In her dilemma she leaned forward and
+      touched the colonel's arm.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't think anything is the matter, dear colonel, do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With whom, Kate?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Between Harry and Mr. Willits. Harry might resent it&mdash;he was very
+      angry.&rdquo; Her lips were quivering, her eyes strained. She could hide her
+      anxiety from her immediate companions, but the colonel was Harry's father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel turned quickly: &ldquo;Resent it here! under his own roof, and the
+      man his guest? That is one thing, my dear, a Rutter never violates, no
+      matter what the provocation. I have made a special exception in Mr.
+      Willits's favor to-night and Harry knows it. It was at your dear father's
+      request that I invited the young fellow. And then again, I hear the most
+      delightful things about his own father, who though a plain man is of great
+      service to his county&mdash;one of Mr. Clay's warmest adherents. All this,
+      you see, makes it all the more incumbent that both my son and myself
+      should treat him with the utmost consideration, and, as I have said, Harry
+      understands this perfectly. You don't know my boy; I would disown him,
+      Kate, if he laid a hand on Mr. Willits&mdash;and so should you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER V
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      When Dr. Teackle shut the door of the ballroom upon himself and Mark
+      Gilbert the two did not tarry long in the colonel's den, which was still
+      occupied by half a dozen of the older men, who were being beguiled by a
+      relay of hot terrapin that Alec had just served. On the contrary, they
+      continued on past the serving tables, past old Cobden Dorsey, who was
+      steeped to the eyes in Santa Cruz rum punch; past John Purviance, and
+      Gatchell and Murdoch, smacking their lips over the colonel's Madeira,
+      dived through a door leading first to a dark passage, mounted to a short
+      flight of steps leading to another dark passage, and so on through a
+      second door until they reached a small room level with the ground. This
+      was the colonel's business office, where he conducted the affairs of the
+      estate&mdash;a room remote from the great house and never entered except
+      on the colonel's special invitation and only then when business of
+      importance necessitated its use.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That business of the very highest importance&mdash;not in any way
+      connected with the colonel, though of the very gravest moment&mdash;was
+      being enacted here to-night, could be seen the instant Teackle, with
+      Gilbert at his heels, threw open the door. St. George and Harry were in
+      one corner&mdash;Harry backed against the wall. The boy was pale, but
+      perfectly calm and silent. On his face was the look of a man who had a
+      duty to perform and who intended to go through with it come what might. On
+      the opposite side of the room stood Willits with two young men, his most
+      intimate friends. They had followed him out of the ballroom to learn the
+      cause of his sudden outburst, and so far had only heard Willits's side of
+      the affair. He was now perfectly sober and seemed to feel his position,
+      but he showed no fear. On the desk lay a mahogany case containing the
+      colonel's duelling pistols. Harry had taken them from his father's closet
+      as he passed through the colonel's den.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George turned to the young doctor. His face was calm and thoughtful,
+      and he seemed to realize fully the gravity of the situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's no use, Teackle,&rdquo; St. George said with an expressive lift of his
+      fingers. &ldquo;I have done everything a man could, but there is only one way
+      out of it. I have tried my best to save Kate from every unhappiness
+      to-night, but this is something much more important than woman's tears,
+      and that is her lover's honor.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean to tell me, Uncle George, that you can't stop this!&rdquo; Teackle
+      whispered with some heat, his eyes strained, his lips twitching. Here he
+      faced Harry. &ldquo;You sha'n't go on with this affair, I tell you, Harry. What
+      will Kate say? Do you think she wants you murdered for a foolish thing
+      like this!&mdash;and that's about what will happen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy made no reply, except to shake his head. He knew what Kate would
+      say&mdash;knew what she would do, and knew what she would command him to
+      do, could she have heard Willits's continued insults in this very room but
+      a moment before while St. George was trying to make him apologize to his
+      host and so end the disgraceful incident.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I'll go and bring in the colonel and see what he can do!&rdquo; burst out
+      Teackle, starting for the door. &ldquo;It's an outrage that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll stay here, Teackle,&rdquo; commanded St. George&mdash;&ldquo;right where you
+      stand! This is no place for a father. Harry is of age.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what an ending to a night like this!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I know it&mdash;horrible!&mdash;frightful!&mdash;but I would rather see
+      the boy lying dead at my feet than not defend the woman he loves.&rdquo; This
+      came in a decisive tone, as if he had long since made up his mind to this
+      phase of the situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Langdon is Harry's guest,&rdquo; Teackle pleaded, dropping his voice still
+      lower to escape being heard by the group at the opposite end of the room&mdash;&ldquo;and
+      he is still under his roof. It is never done&mdash;it is against the code.
+      Besides&rdquo;&mdash;and his voice became a whisper&mdash;&ldquo;Harry never levelled
+      a pistol at a man in his life, and this is not Langdon's first meeting. We
+      can fix it in the morning. I tell you we must fix it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry, who had been listening quietly, reached across the table, picked up
+      the case of pistols, handed it to Gilbert, whom he had chosen as his
+      second, and in a calm, clear, staccato tone&mdash;each word a bullet
+      rammed home&mdash;said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;Teackle, there will be no delay until to-morrow. Mr. Willits has
+      forfeited every claim to being my guest and I will fight him here and now.
+      I could never look Kate in the face, nor would she ever speak to me again,
+      if I took any other course. You forget that he virtually told Kate she
+      lied,&rdquo; and he gazed steadily at Willits as if waiting for the effect of
+      his shot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George's eyes kindled. There was the ring of a man in the boy's words.
+      He had seen the same look on the elder Rutter's face in a similar
+      situation twenty years before. As a last resort he walked toward where
+      Willits stood conferring with his second.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ask you once more, Mr. Willits&rdquo;&mdash;he spoke in his most courteous
+      tones (Willits's pluck had greatly raised him in his estimation)&mdash;&ldquo;to
+      apologize like a man and a gentleman. There is no question in my mind that
+      you have insulted your host in his own house and been discourteous to the
+      woman he expects to marry, and that the amende honorable should come from
+      you. I am twice your age and have had many experiences of this kind, and I
+      would neither ask you to do a dishonorable thing nor would I permit you to
+      do it if I could prevent it. Make a square, manly apology to Harry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Willits gazed at him with a certain ill-concealed contempt on his face. He
+      was at the time loosening the white silk scarf about his throat in
+      preparation for the expected encounter. He evidently did not believe a
+      word of that part of the statement which referred to Harry's engagement.
+      If Kate had been engaged to Harry she would have told him so.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are only wasting your time, Mr. Temple,&rdquo; he answered with an
+      impatient lift of his chin as he stripped his coat from his broad
+      shoulders. &ldquo;You have just said there is only one way to settle this&mdash;I
+      am ready&mdash;so are my friends. You will please meet me outside&mdash;there
+      is plenty of firelight under the trees, and the sooner we get through this
+      the better. The apology should not come from me, and will not. Come,
+      gentlemen,&rdquo; and he stepped out into the now drizzling night, the glare of
+      the torches falling on his determined face and white shirt as he strode
+      down the path followed by his seconds.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Seven gentlemen hurriedly gathered together, one a doctor and another in
+      full possession of a mahogany case containing two duelling pistols with
+      their accompanying ammunition, G. D. gun caps, powder-horn, swabs and
+      rammers, and it past eleven o'clock at night, would have excited but
+      little interest to the average darky&mdash;especially one unaccustomed to
+      the portents and outcomes of such proceedings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not so Alec, who had absorbed the situation at a glance. He had
+      accompanied his master on two such occasions&mdash;one at Bladensburg and
+      the other on a neighboring estate, when the same suggestive tokens had
+      been visible, except that those fights took place at daybreak, and after
+      every requirement of the code had been complied with, instead of under the
+      flare of smoking pine torches and within a step of the contestant's front
+      door. He had, besides, a most intimate knowledge of the contents of the
+      mahogany case, it being part of his duty to see that these defenders of
+      the honor of all the Rutters&mdash;and they had been in frequent use&mdash;were
+      kept constantly oiled and cleaned. He had even cast some bullets the month
+      before under the colonel's direction. That he was present to-night was
+      entirely due to the fact that having made a short cut to the kitchen door
+      in order to hurry some dishes, he had by the merest chance, and at the
+      precise psychological moment, run bump up against the warlike party just
+      before they had reached the duelling ground. This was a well-lighted path
+      but a stone's throw from the porch, and sufficiently hidden by shrubbery
+      to be out of sight of the ballroom windows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The next moment the old man was in full cry to the house. He had heard the
+      beginning of the trouble while he was carrying out St. George's orders
+      regarding the two half-emptied bowls of punch and understood exactly what
+      was going to happen, and why.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got de colonel's pistols!&rdquo; he choked as he sped along the gravel walk
+      toward the front door the quicker to reach the ballroom&mdash;&ldquo;and Marse
+      Harry nothin' but a baby! Gor-a-Mighty! Gor-a-Mighty!&rdquo; Had they all been
+      grown-ups he might not have minded&mdash;but his &ldquo;Marse Harry,&rdquo; the child
+      he brought up, his idol&mdash;his chum!&mdash;&ldquo;Fo' Gawd, dey sha'n't kill
+      'im&mdash;dey sha'n't!&mdash;DEY SHA'N'T!!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had reached the porch now, swung back the door, and with a sudden
+      spring&mdash;it was wonderful how quick he moved&mdash;had dashed into the
+      ballroom, now a maze of whirling figures&mdash;a polka having struck up to
+      keep everybody occupied until the reel was finally made up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marse Talbot!&mdash;Marse Talbot!&rdquo; All domestic training was cast aside,
+      not a moment could be lost&mdash;&ldquo;All on ye!&mdash;dey's murder outside&mdash;somebody
+      go git de colonel!&mdash;Oh, Gawd!&mdash;somebody git 'im quick!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Few heard him and nobody paid any attention to his entreaties; nor could
+      anybody, when they did listen, understand what he wanted&mdash;the men
+      swearing under their breath, the girls indignant that he had blocked their
+      way. Mrs. Rutter, who had seen his in-rush, sat aghast. Had Alec, too,
+      given way, she wondered&mdash;old Alec who had had full charge of the wine
+      cellar for years! But the old man pressed on, still shouting, his voice
+      almost gone, his eyes bursting from his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dey's gwineter murder Marse Harry&mdash;I seen 'em! Oh!&mdash;whar's de
+      colonel! Won't somebody please&mdash;Oh, my Gawd!&mdash;dis is awful!
+      Don't I tell ye dey's gwineter kill Marse Harry!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Cheston, sitting beside Kate, was the only one who seemed to
+      understand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alec!&rdquo; she called in her imperious voice&mdash;&ldquo;Alec!&mdash;come to me at
+      once! What is the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old butler shambled forward and stood trembling, the tears streaming
+      down his cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, mum&mdash;I'm yere! Oh, can't ye git de colonel&mdash;ain't nobody
+      else'll do&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it a duel?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, mum! I jes' done see 'em! Dey's gwineter kill my Marse Harry!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate sprang up. &ldquo;Where are they?&rdquo; she cried, shivering with fear. The old
+      man's face had told the story.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out by de greenhouse&mdash;dey was measurin' off de groun'&mdash;dey's
+      got de colonel's pistols&mdash;you kin see 'em from de winder!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In an instant she had parted the heavy silk curtains and lifted the sash.
+      She would have thrown herself from it if Mrs. Cheston had not held her,
+      although it was but a few feet from the ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harry!&rdquo; she shrieked&mdash;an agonizing shriek that reverberated through
+      the ballroom, bringing everybody and everything to a stand-still. The
+      dancers looked at each other in astonishment. What had happened? Who had
+      fainted?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel now passed through the room. He had been looking after the
+      proper handling of the famous Madeira, and had just heard that Alec wanted
+      him, and was uncertain as to the cause of the disturbance. A woman's
+      scream had reached his ears, but he did not know it was Kate's or he would
+      have quickened his steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Kate's voice pierced the room:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harry! HARRY!&rdquo;&mdash;this time in helpless agony. She had peered into the
+      darkness made denser by the light rain, and had caught a glimpse of a man
+      standing erect without his coat, the light of the torches bringing his
+      figure into high relief&mdash;whose she could not tell, the bushes were so
+      thick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel brushed everybody aside and pulled Kate, half fainting, into
+      the room. Then he faced Mrs. Cheston.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has happened?&rdquo; he asked sharply. &ldquo;What is going on outside?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just what I told you. Those fools are out there trying to murder each
+      other!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Two shots in rapid succession rang clear on the night air.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel stood perfectly still. No need to tell him now what had
+      happened, and worse yet, no need to tell him what WOULD happen if he
+      showed the slightest agitation. He was a cool man, accustomed to critical
+      situations, and one who never lost his head in an emergency. Only a few
+      years before he had stopped a runaway hunter, with a girl clinging to a
+      stirrup, by springing straight at the horse's head and bringing them both
+      to the ground unhurt. It only required the same instantaneous
+      concentration of all his forces, he said to himself, as he gazed into old
+      Alec's terror-stricken face framed by the open window. Once let the truth
+      be known and the house would be in a panic&mdash;women fainting, men
+      rushing out, taking sides with the combatants, with perhaps other duels to
+      follow&mdash;Mrs. Rutter frantic, the ball suddenly broken up, and this,
+      too, near midnight, with most of his guests ten miles and more from home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Murmurs of alarm were already reaching his ears: What was it?&mdash;who
+      had fainted?&mdash;did the scream come from inside or outside the room?&mdash;what
+      was the firing about?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned to allay Kate's anxiety, but she had cleared the open window at
+      a bound and was already speeding toward where she had seen the light on
+      the man's shirt. For an instant he peered after her into the darkness, and
+      then, his mind made up, closed the sash with a quick movement, flung
+      together the silk curtains and raised his hand to command attention.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep on with the dance, my friends; I'll go and find out what has
+      happened&mdash;but it's nothing that need worry anybody&mdash;only a
+      little burnt powder. Alec, go and tell Mr. Grant, the overseer, to keep
+      better order outside. In the meantime let everybody get ready for the
+      Virginia reel; supper will be served in a few minutes. Will you young
+      gentlemen please choose your partners, and will some one of you kindly ask
+      the music to start up?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Slowly, and quite as if he had been called to the front door to welcome
+      some belated guest, he walked the length of the room preceded by Alec,
+      who, agonized at his master's measured delay, had forged ahead to open the
+      door. This closed and they out of sight, the two hurried down the path.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Willits lay flat on the ground, one arm stretched above his head. He had
+      measured his full length, the weight of his shoulder breaking some
+      flower-pots as he fell. Over his right eye gaped an ugly wound from which
+      oozed a stream of blood that stained his cheek and throat. Dr. Teackle, on
+      one knee, was searching the patient's heart, while Kate, her pretty frock
+      soiled with mud, her hair dishevelled, sat crouched in the dirt rubbing
+      his hands&mdash;sobbing bitterly&mdash;crying out whenever Harry, who was
+      kneeling beside her, tried to soothe her:&mdash;&ldquo;No!&mdash;No!&mdash;My
+      heart's broken&mdash;don't speak to me&mdash;go away!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel, towering above them, looked the scene over, then he
+      confronted Harry, who had straightened to his feet on seeing his father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A pretty piece of work&mdash;and on a night like this! A damnable piece
+      of work, I should say, sir!... Has he killed him, Teackle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young doctor shook his head ominously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I cannot tell yet&mdash;his heart is still beating.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George now joined the group. He and Gilbert and the other seconds had,
+      in order to maintain secrecy, been rounding up the few negroes who had
+      seen the encounter, or who had been attracted to the spot by the firing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harry had my full consent, Talbot&mdash;there was really nothing else to
+      do. Only an ounce of cold lead will do in some cases, and this was one of
+      them.&rdquo; He was grave and deliberate in manner, but there was an infinite
+      sadness in his voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He did&mdash;did he?&rdquo; retorted the colonel bitterly. &ldquo;YOUR full consent!
+      YOURS! and I in the next room!&rdquo; Here he beckoned to one of the negroes
+      who, with staring eyeballs, stood gazing from one to the other. &ldquo;Come
+      closer, Eph&mdash;not a whisper, remember, or I'll cut the hide off your
+      back in strips. Tell the others what I say&mdash;if a word of this gets
+      into the big house or around the cabins I'll know who to punish. Now two
+      or three of you go into the greenhouse, pick up one of those wide planks,
+      and lift this gentleman onto it so we can carry him. Take him into my
+      office, doctor, and lay him on my lounge. He'd better die there than here.
+      Come, Kate&mdash;do you go with me. Not a syllable of this, remember,
+      Kate, to Mrs. Rutter, or anybody else. As for you, sir&rdquo;&mdash;and he
+      looked Harry squarely in the face&mdash;&ldquo;you will hear from me later on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the same calm determination, he entered the ballroom, walked to the
+      group forming the reel, and, with a set smile on this face indicating how
+      idle had been everybody's fears, said loud enough to be heard by every one
+      about him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only one of the men, my dear young people, who has been hurt in the too
+      careless use of some firearms. As to dear Kate&mdash;she has been so upset&mdash;she
+      happened unfortunately to see the affair from the window&mdash;that she
+      has gone to her room and so you must excuse her for a little while. Now
+      everybody keep on with the dance.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With his wife he was even more at ease. &ldquo;The same old root of all evil, my
+      dear,&rdquo; he said with a dry laugh&mdash;&ldquo;too much peach brandy, and this
+      time down the wrong throats&mdash;and so in their joy they must celebrate
+      by firing off pistols and wasting my good ammunition,&rdquo; an explanation
+      which completely satisfied the dear lady&mdash;peach brandy being capable
+      of producing any calamity, great or small.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But this would not do for Mrs. Cheston. She was a woman who could be
+      trusted and who never, on any occasion, lost her nerve. He saw from the
+      way she lifted her eyebrows in inquiry, instead of framing her question in
+      words, that she fully realized the gravity of the situation. The colonel
+      looked at her significantly, made excuse to step in front of her, his back
+      to the room, and with his forefinger tapping his forehead, whispered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Willits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old lady paled, but she did not change her expression.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Harry?&rdquo; she murmured in return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel kept his eyes upon her, but he made no answer. A hard, cold
+      look settled on his face&mdash;one she knew&mdash;one his negroes feared
+      when he grew angry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again she repeated Harry's name, this time in alarm:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quick!&mdash;tell me&mdash;not killed?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;I wish to God he were!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The wounded man lay on a lounge in the office room, which was dimly
+      lighted by the dying glow of the outside torches and an oil lamp hurriedly
+      brought in. No one was present except St. George, Harry, the doctor, and a
+      negro woman who had brought in some pillows and hot water. All that could
+      be done for him had been done; he was unconscious and his life hung by a
+      thread. Harry, now that the mysterious thing called his &ldquo;honor&rdquo; had been
+      satisfied, was helping Teackle wash the wound prior to an attempt to probe
+      for the ball.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy was crying quietly&mdash;the tears streaming unbidden down his
+      cheeks&mdash;it was his first experience at this sort of thing. He had
+      been brought up to know that some day it might come and that he must then
+      face it, but he had never before realized the horror of what might follow.
+      And yet he had not reached the stage of regret; he was sorry for the
+      wounded man and for his suffering, but he was not sorry for his own share
+      in causing it. He had only done his duty, and but for a stroke of good
+      luck he and Willits might have exchanged places. Uncle George had
+      expressed his feelings exactly when he said that only a bit of cold lead
+      could settle some insults, and what insult could have been greater than
+      the one for which he had shot Willits? What was a gentleman to do? Go
+      around meeting his antagonist every day?&mdash;the two ignoring each
+      other? Or was he to turn stable boy, and pound him with his fists?&mdash;or,
+      more ridiculous still, have him bound over to keep the peace, or bring an
+      action for&mdash;Bah!&mdash;for what?&mdash;Yes&mdash;for what? Willits
+      hadn't struck him, or wounded him, or robbed him. It had been his life or
+      Willits's. No&mdash;there was no other way&mdash;couldn't be any other
+      way. Willits knew it when he tore up Kate's card&mdash;knew what would
+      follow. There was no deception&mdash;nothing underhand. And he had got
+      precisely what he deserved, sorry as he felt for his sufferings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then Kate's face rose before him&mdash;haunted him. Why hadn't she seen it
+      this way? Why had she refused to look at him&mdash;refused to answer him&mdash;driven
+      him away from her side, in fact?&mdash;he who had risked his life to save
+      her from insult! Why wouldn't she allow him to even touch her hand? Why
+      did she treat Willits&mdash;drunken vulgarian as he was&mdash;differently
+      from the way she had treated him? She had broken off her engagement with
+      him because he was drunk at Mrs. Cheston's ball, where nobody had been
+      hurt but himself, and here she was sympathizing with another drunken man
+      who had not only outraged all sense of decency toward her, but had
+      jeopardized the life of her affianced husband who defended her against his
+      insults; none of which would have happened had the man been sober. All
+      this staggered him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      More astounding still was her indifference. She had not even asked if he
+      had escaped unhurt, but had concentrated all her interest upon the man who
+      had insulted her. As to his own father's wrath&mdash;that he had expected.
+      It was his way to break out, and this he knew would continue until he
+      realized the enormity of the insult to Kate and heard how he and St.
+      George had tried to ward off the catastrophe. Then he would not only
+      change his opinion, but would commend him for his courage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outside the sick-room such guests as could be trusted were gathered
+      together in the colonel's den, where they talked in whispers. All agreed
+      that the ladies and the older men must be sent home as soon as possible,
+      and in complete ignorance of what had occurred. If Willits lived&mdash;of
+      which there was little hope&mdash;his home would be at the colonel's until
+      he fully recovered, the colonel having declared that neither expense nor
+      care would be spared to hasten his recovery. If he died, the body would be
+      sent to his father's house later on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With this object in view the dance was adroitly shortened, the supper
+      hurried through, and within an hour after midnight the last carriage and
+      carryall of those kept in ignorance of the duel had departed, the only
+      change in the programme being the non-opening of the rare old bottle of
+      Madeira and the announcement of Harry's and Kate's engagement&mdash;an
+      omission which provoked little comment, as it had been known to but few.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate remained. She had tottered upstairs holding on to the hand-rail and
+      had thrown herself on a bed in the room leading out of the dressing-room,
+      where she lay in her mud-stained dress, the silken petticoat torn and
+      bedraggled in her leap from the window. She was weeping bitterly, her old
+      black mammy sitting beside her trying to comfort her as best she could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the departure of the last guest&mdash;Mr. Seymour among them; the
+      colonel doing the honors; standing bare-headed on the porch, his face all
+      smiles as he bade them good-by&mdash;the head of the house of Rutter
+      turned quickly on his heel, passed down the corridor, made his way along
+      the long narrow hall, and entered his office, where the wounded man lay.
+      Harry, the negro woman, and Dr. Teackle alone were with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is there any change?&rdquo; he asked in a perfectly even voice. Every vestige
+      of the set smile of the host had left his face. Harry he did not even
+      notice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much&mdash;he is still alive,&rdquo; replied the doctor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you found the ball?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;I have not looked for it&mdash;I will presently.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel moved out a chair and sat down beside the dying man, his eyes
+      fixed on the lifeless face. Some wave of feeling must have swept through
+      him, for after a half-stifled sigh, he said in a low voice, as if to
+      himself:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This will be a fine story to tell his father, won't it?&mdash;and here
+      too&mdash;under my roof. My God!&mdash;was there ever anything more
+      disgraceful!&rdquo; He paused for a moment, his eyes still on the sufferer, and
+      then went on&mdash;this time to the doctor&mdash;&ldquo;His living so long gives
+      me some hope&mdash;am I right, Teackle?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The doctor nodded, but he made no audible reply. He had bent closer to the
+      man's chest and was at the moment listening intently to the labored
+      breathing, which seemed to have increased.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry edged nearer to the patient, his eyes seeking for some move of life.
+      All his anger had faded. Willits, his face ablaze with drink and rage, his
+      eyes flashing, his strident voice ringing out&mdash;even Kate's shocked,
+      dazed face, no longer filled his mind. It was the suffering man&mdash;trembling
+      on the verge of eternity, shot to death by his own ball&mdash;that
+      appealed to him. And then the suddenness of it all&mdash;less than an hour
+      had passed since this tall, robust young fellow stood before him on the
+      stairs, hanging upon every word that fell from Kate's lips&mdash;and here
+      he lay weltering in his own blood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly his father's hopeful word to the doctor sounded in his ears.
+      Suppose, after all, Willits SHOULD get well! Then Kate would understand
+      and forgive him! As this thought developed in his mind his spirits rose.
+      He scanned the sufferer the more intently, straining his neck, persuading
+      himself that a slight twitching had crossed the dying man's face. Almost
+      instantaneously the doctor rose to his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quick, Harry!&mdash;hand me that brandy! It's just as I hoped&mdash;the
+      ball has ploughed outside the skull&mdash;the brain is untouched. It was
+      the shock that stunned him. Leave the room everybody&mdash;you too,
+      colonel&mdash;he'll come to in a minute and must not be excited.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry sprang from his chair, a great surge of thankfulness rising in his
+      heart, caught up the decanter, filled a glass and pressed it to the
+      sufferer's lips. The colonel sat silent and unmoved. He had seen too many
+      wounded men revive and then die to be unduly excited. That Willets still
+      breathed was the only feature of his case that gave him any hope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry shot an inquiring glance at his father, and receiving only a cold
+      stare in return, hurried from the room, his steps growing lighter as he
+      ran. Kate must hear the good news and with the least possible delay. He
+      would not send a message&mdash;he would go himself; then he could explain
+      and relieve her mind. She would listen to his pleading. It was natural she
+      should have been shocked. He himself had been moved to sympathy by the
+      sufferer's condition&mdash;how much more dreadful, then, must have been
+      the sight of the wounded man lying there among the flower-pots to a woman
+      nurtured so carefully and one so sensitive in spirit! But it was all over&mdash;Willits
+      would live&mdash;there would be a reconciliation&mdash;everything would be
+      forgiven and everything forgotten.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All these thoughts crowded close in his mind as he rushed up the stairs
+      two steps at a time to where his sweetheart lay moaning out her heart. He
+      tapped lightly and her old black mammy opened the door on a crack.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's Marse Harry, mistis,&rdquo; she called back over her shoulder&mdash;&ldquo;shall
+      I let him come in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&mdash;no!&mdash;I don't want to see him; I don't want to see anybody&mdash;my
+      heart is broken!&rdquo; came the reply in half-stifled sobs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry, held at bay, rested his forehead against the edge of the door so
+      his voice could reach her the better.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Willits isn't going to die, Kate dear. I have just left him; it's
+      only a scalp wound. Dr. Teackle says he's all right. The shock stunned him
+      into unconsciousness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I don't care what Dr. Teackle says! It's you, Harry!&mdash;You! You
+      never once thought of me&mdash;Oh, why did you do it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did think of you, Kate! I never thought of anything else&mdash;I am not
+      thinking of anything else now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, to think you tried to murder him! You, Harry&mdash;whom I loved so!&rdquo;
+       she sobbed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was for you, Kate! You heard what he said&mdash;you saw it all. It was
+      for you&mdash;for nobody else&mdash;for you, my darling! Let me come in&mdash;let
+      me hold you close to me and tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&mdash;NO&mdash;NO! My heart is broken! Come to me, mammy!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door shut gently and left him on the outside, dazed at the outcry, his
+      heart throbbing with tenderness and an intense, almost ungovernable
+      impulse to force his way into the room, take her in his arms, and comfort
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The closed door brought him to his senses. To-morrow, after all, would be
+      better, he confessed to himself humbly. Nothing more could be done
+      to-night. Yes&mdash;to-morrow he would tell her all. He turned to descend
+      the stairs and ran almost into Alec's arms. The old man was trembling with
+      excitement and seemed hardly able to control himself. He had come in
+      search of him, and had waited patiently at Kate's door for the outcome of
+      the interview, every word of which he had overheard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marse Talbot done sont me fer ye, Marse Harry,&rdquo; he said in a low voice;
+      &ldquo;he wants ye in his li'l' room. Don't ye take no notice what de young
+      mistis says; she ain't griebin' fer dat man. Dat Willits blood ain't no
+      'count, nohow; dey's po' white trash, dey is&mdash;eve'ybody knows dat.
+      Let Miss Kate cry herse'f out; dat's de on'y help now. Mammy Henny'll look
+      arter her till de mawnin'&rdquo;&mdash;to none of which did Harry make answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When they reached the bottom step leading to the long hall the old man
+      stopped and laid his hand on his young master's shoulder. His voice was
+      barely audible and two tears stood in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you take no notice ob what happens to-night, son,&rdquo; he whispered.
+      &ldquo;'Member ye kin count on ol' Alec. Ain't neber gwineter be nothin' come
+      'twixt me an' you, son. I ain't neber gwineter git tired lovin' ye&mdash;you
+      won't fergit dat, will ye?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Alec, but Mr. Willits will recover. Dr. Teackle has just said so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, dat ain't it, son&mdash;it's you, Marse Harry. Don't let 'em down ye&mdash;stand
+      up an' fight 'em back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry patted the old servant tenderly on the arm to calm his fears. His
+      words had made but little impression on him. If he had heard them at all
+      he certainly did not grasp their import. What he was wanted for he could
+      not surmise&mdash;nor did he much care. Now that Kate had refused to see
+      him he almost wished that Willits's bullet had found its target.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where did you say my father was, Alec?&rdquo; he asked in a listless voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In his li'l' room, son; dey's all in dar, Marse George Temple, Mister
+      Gilbert&mdash;dem two gemmans who stood up wid Mister Willits&mdash;dey's
+      all dar. Don't mind what dey say, honey&mdash;jes' you fall back on ol'
+      Alec. I dassent go in; maybe I'll be yere in de pantry so ye kin git hold
+      o' me. I'se mos' crazy, Marse Harry&mdash;let me git hold oh yo' hand once
+      mo', son. Oh, my Gawd!&mdash;dey sha'n't do nothin' to ye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy took the old man's hand in his, patted it gently and resumed his
+      walk. The least said the better when Alec felt like this. It was Kate's
+      voice that pierced his ears&mdash;Kate's sobs that wrenched his heart:
+      &ldquo;You never thought of me!&rdquo; Nothing else counted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry turned the handle of the door and stepped boldly in, his head erect,
+      his eyes searching the room. It was filled with gentlemen, some sitting,
+      some standing; not only those who had taken part in the duel, but three or
+      four others who were in possession of the secret that lay heavy on
+      everybody's mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked about him: most of the candles had burned low in the socket;
+      some had gone out. The few that still flickered cast a dim, ghostly light.
+      The remains of the night's revel lay on the larger table and the serving
+      tables:&mdash;a half empty silver dish of terrapin, caked over with cold
+      grease; portion of a ham with the bone showing; empty and partly filled
+      glasses and china cups from which the toddies and eggnog had been drunk.
+      The smell of rum and lemons intermingled with the smoke of snuffed-out
+      candle wicks greeted his nostrils&mdash;a smell he remembered for years
+      and always with a shudder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There had evidently been a heated discussion, for his father was walking
+      up and down the room, his face flushed, his black eyes blazing with
+      suppressed anger, his plum-colored coat unbuttoned as if to give him more
+      breathing space, his silk scarf slightly awry. St. George Temple must have
+      been the cause of his wrath, for the latter's voice was reverberating
+      through the room as Harry stepped in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I tell you, Talbot, you shall not&mdash;you DARE not!&rdquo; St. George was
+      exclaiming, his voice rising in the intensity of his indignation. His face
+      was set, his eyes blazing; all his muscles taut. He stood like an avenging
+      knight guarding some pathway. Harry looked on in amazement&mdash;he had
+      never seen his uncle like this before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel wheeled about suddenly and raised his clenched hand. He seemed
+      to be nervously unstrung and for a moment to have lost his self-control.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop, St. George!&rdquo; he thundered. &ldquo;Stop instantly! Not another word, do
+      you hear me? Don't strain a friendship that has lasted from boyhood or I
+      may forget myself as you have done. No man can tell me what I shall or
+      shall not do when my honor is at stake. Never before has a Rutter
+      disgraced himself and his blood. I am done with him, I tell you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the man will get well!&rdquo; hissed St. George, striding forward and
+      confronting him. &ldquo;Teackle has just said so&mdash;you heard him; we all
+      heard him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That makes no difference; that does not relieve my son.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rutter had now become aware of Harry's presence. So had the others, who
+      turned their heads in the boy's direction, but no one spoke. They had not
+      the lifelong friendship that made St. George immune, and few of them would
+      have dared to disagree with Talbot Rutter in anything.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now, sir&rdquo;&mdash;here the colonel made a step towards where Harry
+      stood, the words falling as drops of water fall on a bared head&mdash;&ldquo;I
+      have sent for you to tell you just what I have told these gentlemen. I
+      have informed them openly because I do not wish either my sense of honor
+      or my motives to be misunderstood. Your performances to-night have been so
+      dastardly and so ill-bred as to make it impossible for me ever to live
+      under the same roof with you again.&rdquo; Harry started and his lips parted as
+      if to speak, but he made no sound. &ldquo;You have disgraced your blood and
+      violated every law of hospitality. Mr. Willits should have been as safe
+      here as you would have been under his father's roof. If he misbehaved
+      himself you could have ordered his carriage and settled the affair next
+      day, as any gentleman of your standing would have done. I have sent for a
+      conveyance to take you wherever you may wish to go.&rdquo; Then, turning to St.
+      George, &ldquo;I must ask you, Temple, to fill my place and see that these
+      gentlemen get their proper carriages, as I must join Mrs. Rutter, who has
+      sent for me. Good-night,&rdquo; and he strode from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry stared blankly into the faces of the men about him: first at St.
+      George and then at the others&mdash;one after another&mdash;as if trying
+      to read what was passing in their minds. No one spoke or moved. His
+      father's intentions had evidently been discussed before the boy's arrival
+      and the final denunciation had, therefore, been received with less of the
+      deadening effect than it had produced on himself. Nor was it a surprise to
+      old Alec, who despite his fears had followed Harry noiselessly into the
+      room, and who had also overheard the colonel's previous outbreak as to his
+      intended disposition of his young master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George, who during the outburst had stood leaning against the mantel,
+      his eyes riveted on Harry, broke the silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That, gentlemen,&rdquo; he exclaimed, straightening to his feet, one hand held
+      high above his head, &ldquo;is the most idiotic and unjust utterance that ever
+      fell from Talbot Rutter's lips! and one he will regret to his dying day.
+      This boy you all know&mdash;most of you have known him from childhood, and
+      you know him, as I do, to be the embodiment of all that is brave and
+      truthful. He is just of age&mdash;without knowledge of the world, his
+      engagement to Kate Seymour, as some of you are aware, was to be made known
+      to-night. Willits was drunk or he would not have acted as he did. I saw it
+      coming and tried to stop him. That he was drunk was Rutter's own fault,
+      with his damned notions of drowning everybody in drink every minute of the
+      day and night. I saw the whole affair and heard the insult, and it was
+      wholly unprovoked. Harry did just what was right, and if he hadn't I'd
+      either have made Willits apologize or I would have shot him myself the
+      moment the affair could have been arranged, no matter where we were. I
+      know perfectly well&rdquo;&mdash;here he swept his eyes around&mdash;&ldquo;that there
+      is not a man in this room who does not feel as I do about Rutter's
+      treatment of this boy, and so I shall not comment further upon it.&rdquo; He
+      dropped his clenched hand and turned to Harry, his voice still clear and
+      distinct but with a note of tenderness through it. &ldquo;And now, that
+      pronunciamentos are in order, my boy, here is one which has less of the
+      Bombastes Furioso in it than the one you have just listened to&mdash;but
+      it's a damned sight more humane and a damned sight more fatherly, and it
+      is this:&mdash;hereafter you belong to me&mdash;you are my son, my
+      comrade, and, if I ever have a dollar to give to any one, my heir. And now
+      one thing more, and I don't want any one of you gentlemen within sound of
+      my voice ever to forget it: When hereafter any one of you reckon with
+      Harry you will please remember that you reckon with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned suddenly. &ldquo;Excuse me one moment, gentlemen, and I will then see
+      that you get your several carriages. Alec!&mdash;where's Alec?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old darky stepped out of the shadow. &ldquo;I'm yere, sah.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alec, go and tell Matthew to bring my gig to the front porch&mdash;and be
+      sure you see that your young master's heavy driving-coat is put inside.
+      Mr. Harry spends the night with me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The secrecy enjoined upon everybody conversant with the happenings at
+      Moorlands did not last many hours. At the club, across dinner tables, at
+      tea, on the street, and in the libraries of Kennedy Square, each detail
+      was gone over, each motive discussed. None of the facts were exaggerated,
+      nor was the gravity of the situation lightly dismissed. Duels were not so
+      common as to blunt the sensibilities. On the contrary, they had begun to
+      be generally deplored and condemned, a fact largely due to the bitterness
+      resulting from a famous encounter which had taken place a year or so
+      before between young Mr. Cocheran, the son of a rich landowner, and Mr.
+      May&mdash;the circumstances being somewhat similar, the misunderstanding
+      having arisen at a ball in Washington over a reigning belle, during which
+      Mr. May had thrown his card in Cocheran's face. In this instance all the
+      requirements of the code were complied with. The duel was fought in an
+      open space behind Nelson's Hotel, near the Capitol, Mr. Cocheran arriving
+      at half-past five in the morning in a magnificent coach drawn by four
+      white horses, his antagonist reaching the grounds in an ordinary
+      conveyance, the seconds and the two surgeons on horseback. Both fired
+      simultaneously, with the result that May escaped unhurt, while Cocheran
+      was shot through the head and instantly killed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Public opinion, indeed, around Kennedy Square, was, if the truth be told,
+      undergoing many and serious changes. For not only the duel but some other
+      of the traditional customs dear to the old regime were falling into
+      disrepute&mdash;especially the open sideboards, synonymous with the lavish
+      hospitality of the best houses. While most of the older heads, brought up
+      on the finer and rarer wines, knew to a glass the limit of their
+      endurance, the younger bloods were constantly losing control of
+      themselves, a fact which was causing the greatest anxiety among the
+      mothers of Kennedy Square.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This growing antipathy had been hastened and solidified by another tragedy
+      quite as widely discussed as the Cocheran and May duel&mdash;more so, in
+      fact, since this particular victim of too many toddies had been the heir
+      of one of the oldest residents about Kennedy Square&mdash;a brilliant
+      young surgeon, self-exiled because of his habits, who had been thrown from
+      his horse on the Indian frontier&mdash;an Iowa town, really&mdash;shattering
+      his leg and making its amputation necessary. There being but one other man
+      in the rough camp who had ever seen a knife used&mdash;and he but a
+      student&mdash;the wounded surgeon had directed the amputation himself,
+      even to the tying of the arteries and the bandages and splints. Only then
+      did he collapse. The hero&mdash;and he was a hero to every one who knew of
+      his coolness and pluck, in spite of his recognized weakness&mdash;had
+      returned to his father's house on Kennedy Square on crutches, there to
+      consult some specialists, the leg still troubling him. As the cripple's
+      bedroom was at the top of the first flight of stairs, the steps of which&mdash;it
+      being summer&mdash;were covered with China matting, he was obliged to drag
+      himself up its incline whenever he was in want of something he must fetch
+      himself. One of these necessities was a certain squat bottle like those
+      which had graced the old sideboards. Half a dozen times a day would he
+      adjust his crutches, their steel points preventing his slipping, and mount
+      the stairs to his room, one step at a time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some months after, when the matting was taken up, the mother took her
+      youngest boy&mdash;he was then fifteen&mdash;to the steps:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you see the dents of your brother's crutches?&mdash;count them. Every
+      one was a nail in his coffin.&rdquo; They were&mdash;for the invalid died that
+      winter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These marked changes in public opinion, imperceptible as they had been at
+      first, were gradually paving the way, it may be said, for the dawn of that
+      new order of things which only the wiser and more farsighted men&mdash;men
+      like Richard Horn&mdash;were able to discern. While many of the old regime
+      were willing to admit that the patriarchal life, with the negro as the
+      worker and the master as the spender, had seen its best days, but few of
+      them, at the period of these chronicles, realized that the genius of
+      Morse, Hoe, and McCormick, and a dozen others, whose inventions were just
+      beginning to be criticised, and often condemned, were really the chief
+      factors in the making of a new and greater democracy: that the cog, the
+      drill, the grate-bar, and the flying shuttle would ere long supplant the
+      hoe and the scythe; and that when the full flood of this new era was
+      reached their old-time standards of family pride, reckless hospitality,
+      and even their old-fashioned courtesy would well-nigh be swept into space.
+      The storm raised over this and the preceding duel had they but known it,
+      was but a notch in the tide-gauge of this flood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I understand, St. George, that you could have stopped that disgraceful
+      affair the other night if you had raised your hand,&rdquo; Judge Pancoast had
+      blurted out in an angry tone at the club the week following. &ldquo;I did raise
+      it, judge,&rdquo; replied St. George, calmly drawing off his gloves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They don't say so&mdash;they say you stood by and encouraged it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite true,&rdquo; he answered in his dryest voice. &ldquo;When I raised my hand it
+      was to drop my handkerchief. They fired as it fell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And a barbarous and altogether foolish piece of business, Temple. There
+      is no justification for that sort of thing, and if Rutter wasn't a feudal
+      king up in his own county there would be trouble over it. It's God's mercy
+      the poor fellow wasn't killed. Fine beginning, isn't it, for a happy
+      married life?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better not have any wife at all, judge, than wed a woman whose good name
+      you are afraid to defend with your life. There are some of us who can
+      stand anything but that, and Harry is built along the same lines. A fine,
+      noble, young fellow&mdash;did just right and has my entire confidence and
+      my love. Think it over, judge,&rdquo; and he strolled into the card-room, picked
+      up the morning paper, and buried his face in its columns, his teeth set,
+      his face aflame with suppressed disgust at the kind of blood running in
+      the judge's veins.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel's treatment of his son also came in for heated discussion.
+      Mrs. Cheston was particularly outspoken. Such quixotic action on the
+      ground of safeguarding the rights of a young drunkard like Willits, who
+      didn't know when he had had enough, might very well do for a
+      self-appointed autocrat like Rutter, she maintained, but some equally
+      respectable people would have him know that they disagreed with him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Just like Talbot Rutter,&rdquo; she exclaimed in her outspoken, decided way&mdash;&ldquo;no
+      sense of proportion. High-tempered, obstinate as a mule, and a hundred
+      years&mdash;yes, five hundred years behind his time. And he&mdash;could
+      have stopped it all too if he had listened to me. Did you ever hear
+      anything so stupid as his turning Harry&mdash;the sweetest boy who ever
+      lived&mdash;out of doors, and in a pouring rain, for doing what he would
+      have done himself! Oh, this is too ridiculous&mdash;too farcical. Why, you
+      can't conceive of the absurdity of it all&mdash;nobody can! Gilbert was
+      there and told me every word of it. You would have thought he was a grand
+      duke or a pasha punishing a slave&mdash;and the funniest thing about it is
+      that he believes he is a pasha. Oh&mdash;I have no patience with such
+      contemptible family pride, and that's what is at the bottom of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some of the back county aristocrats, on the other hand&mdash;men who lived
+      by themselves, who took their cue from Alexander Hamilton, Lee, and Webb,
+      and believed in the code as the only means of arbitrating a difficulty of
+      any kind between gentlemen&mdash;stoutly defended the Lord of Moorlands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rutter did perfectly right to chuck the young whelp out of doors.
+      Outrageous, sir&mdash;never is done&mdash;nothing less than murder. Ought
+      to be prosecuted for challenging a man under his own roof&mdash;and at
+      night too. No toss-up for position, no seconds except a parcel of boys.
+      Vulgar, sir&mdash;infernally vulgar, sir. I haven't the honor of Colonel
+      Rutter's acquaintance&mdash;but if I had I'd tell him so&mdash;served the
+      brat right&mdash;damn him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Richard Horn was equally emphatic, but in a far different way. Indeed he
+      could hardly restrain himself when discussing it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can think of nothing my young boy Oliver would or could do when he
+      grows up,&rdquo; he exclaimed fiercely&mdash;his eyes flashing, &ldquo;which would
+      shut him out of his home and his dear mother's care. The duel is a relic
+      of barbarism and should be no longer tolerated; it is mob law, really, and
+      indefensible, with two persons defying the statutes instead of a thousand.
+      But Rutter is the last man in the world to take the stand he has, and I
+      sincerely regret his action. There are many bitter days ahead of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor were the present conditions, aspirations, and future welfare of the
+      two combatants, and of the lovely girl over whom they had quarrelled,
+      neglected by the gossipers. No day passed without an extended discussion
+      of their affairs. Bearers of fresh news were eagerly welcomed both to
+      toddy and tea tables.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Old Morris Murdoch, who knew Willits's father intimately, being a strong
+      Clay man himself, arrived at one of these functions with the astounding
+      information that Willits had called on Miss Seymour, wearing his hat in
+      her presence to conceal his much-beplastered head. That he had then and
+      there not only made her a most humble apology for his ill-tempered
+      outbreak, which he explained was due entirely to a combination of
+      egg-and-brandy, with a dash of apple-toddy thrown in, but had declared
+      upon his honor as a gentleman that he would never again touch the flowing
+      bowl. Whereupon&mdash;(and this excited still greater astonishment)&mdash;the
+      delighted young lady had not only expressed her sympathy for his
+      misfortunes, but had blamed herself for what had occurred!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tom Tilghman, a famous cross-country rider, who had ridden in post haste
+      from his country seat near Moorlands to tell the tale&mdash;as could be
+      seen from his boots, which were still covered with mud&mdash;boldly
+      asserted of his own knowledge that the wounded man, instead of seeking his
+      native shore, as was generally believed, would betake himself to the Red
+      Sulphur Springs (where Kate always spent the summer)&mdash;accompanied by
+      three saddle horses, two servants, some extra bandages, and his devoted
+      sister, there to regain what was left of his health and strength. At which
+      Judge Pancoast had retorted&mdash;and with some heat&mdash;that Willits
+      might take a dozen saddle horses and an equal number of sisters, and a
+      bale of bandages if he were so minded, to the Springs, or any other place,
+      but he would save time and money if he stayed at home and looked after his
+      addled head, as no woman of Miss Seymour's blood and breeding could
+      possibly marry a man whose family escutcheon needed polishing as badly as
+      did his manners. That the fact&mdash;the plain, bold fact&mdash;and here
+      the judge's voice rose to a high pitch&mdash;was that Willits was boiling
+      drunk until Harry's challenge sobered him, and that Kate hated drunkenness
+      as much as did Harry's mother and the other women who had started out to
+      revolutionize society.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What that young lady herself thought of it all not even the best-posted
+      gossip in the club dared to venture an opinion. Moreover, such was the
+      respect and reverence in which she was held, and so great was the sympathy
+      felt for her situation, that she was seldom referred to in connection with
+      Harry or the affair except with a sigh, followed by a &ldquo;Too bad, isn't it?&mdash;enough
+      to break your heart,&rdquo; and such like expressions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What the Honorable Prim thought of it all was apparent the next day at the
+      club when he sputtered out with:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's a nice mess for a man of my position to find himself in! Do you
+      know that I am now pointed out as the prospective father-in-law of a young
+      jackanapes who goes about with a glass of grog in one hand and a pistol in
+      the other. I am not accustomed to having my name bandied about and I won't
+      have it&mdash;I live a life of great simplicity, minding my own business,
+      and I want everybody else to mind theirs. The whole affair is most
+      contemptible and ridiculous and smacks of the tin-armor age. Willits
+      should have been led quietly out of the room and put to bed and young
+      Rutter should have been reprimanded publicly by his father. Disgraceful on
+      a night like that when my daughter's name was on everybody's lips.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      After which outburst he had shut himself up in his house, where, so he
+      told one of his intimates, he intended to remain until he left for the Red
+      Sulphur Springs, which he would do several weeks earlier than was his
+      custom&mdash;a piece of news which not only confirmed Tom Tilghman's
+      gossip, but lifted several eyebrows in astonishment and set one or two
+      loose tongues to wagging.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Out at Moorlands, the point of view varied as the aftermath of the tragedy
+      developed, the colonel alone pursuing his daily life without comment,
+      although deep down in his heart a very maelstrom was boiling and seething.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Rutter, as fate would have it, on hearing that Kate was too ill to go
+      back to town, had gone the next morning to her bedside, where she learned
+      for the first time not only of the duel&mdash;which greatly shocked her,
+      leaving her at first perfectly limp and helpless&mdash;but of Harry's
+      expulsion from his father's house&mdash;(Alec owned the private wire)&mdash;a
+      piece of news which at first terrified and then keyed her up as tight as
+      an overstrung violin. Like many another Southern woman, she might shrink
+      from a cut on a child's finger and only regain her mental poise by a
+      liberal application of smelling salts, but once touch that boy of hers&mdash;the
+      child she had nourished and lived for&mdash;and all the rage of the
+      she-wolf fighting for her cub was aroused. What took place behind the
+      closed doors of her bedroom when she faced the colonel and flamed out, no
+      one but themselves knew. That the colonel was dumfounded&mdash;never
+      having seen her in any such state of mind&mdash;goes without saying. That
+      he was proud of her and liked her the better for it, is also true&mdash;nothing
+      delighted him so much as courage;&mdash;but nothing of all this,
+      impressive as it was, either weakened or altered his resolve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor did he change front to his friends and acquaintances: his honorable
+      name, he maintained, had been trailed in the mud; his boasted hospitality
+      betrayed; his house turned into a common shamble. That his own son was the
+      culprit made the pain and mortification the greater, but it did not lessen
+      his responsibility to his blood. Had not Foscari, to save his honor, in
+      the days of the great republic, condemned his own son Jacopo to exile and
+      death? Had not Virginius slain his daughter? Should he not protect his own
+      honor as well? Furthermore, was not the young man's father a gentleman of
+      standing&mdash;a prominent man in the State&mdash;a friend not only of his
+      own friend, Henry Clay, but of the governor as well? He, of course, would
+      not have Harry marry into the family had there been a marriageable
+      daughter, but that was no reason why Mr. Willits's only son should not be
+      treated with every consideration. He, Talbot Rutter, was alone responsible
+      for the honor of his house. When your right hand offends you cut it off.
+      His right hand HAD offended him, and he HAD cut it off. Away, then, with
+      the spinning of fine phrases!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And so he let the hornets buzz&mdash;and they did swarm and buzz and
+      sting. As long as his wrath lasted he was proof against their assaults&mdash;in
+      fact their attacks only confirmed him in his position. It was when all
+      this ceased, for few continued to remonstrate with him after they had
+      heard his final: &ldquo;I decline to discuss it with you, madame,&rdquo; or the more
+      significant: &ldquo;How dare you, sir, refer to my private affairs without my
+      permission?&rdquo;&mdash;it was, I say, when all this ceased, and when neither
+      his wife, who after her first savage outbreak had purposely held her
+      peace, nor any of the servants&mdash;not even old Alec, who went about
+      with streaming eyes and a great lump in his throat&mdash;dared renew their
+      entreaties for Marse Harry's return, that he began to reflect on his
+      course.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon the great silences overawed him&mdash;periods of loneliness when he
+      sat confronting his soul, his conscience on the bench as judge; his
+      affections a special attorney:&mdash;silences of the night, in which he
+      would listen for the strong, quick, manly footstep and the closing of the
+      door in the corridor beyond:&mdash;silences of the dawn, when no clatter
+      of hoofs followed by a cheery call rang out for some one to take Spitfire:&mdash;silences
+      of the breakfast table, when he drank his coffee alone, Alec tip-toeing
+      about like a lost spirit. Sometimes his heart would triumph and he begin
+      to think out ways and means by which the past could be effaced. Then again
+      the flag of his pride would be raised aloft so that he and all the people
+      could see, and the old hard look would once more settle in his face, the
+      lips straighten and the thin fingers tighten. No&mdash;NO! No assassins
+      for him&mdash;no vulgar brawlers&mdash;and it was at best a vulgar brawl&mdash;and
+      this too within the confines of Moorlands, where, for five generations,
+      only gentlemen had been bred!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet, product as he was of a regime that worshipped no ideals but its
+      own; hide-bound by the traditions of his ancestry; holding in secret
+      disdain men and women who could not boast of equal wealth and lineage;
+      dictatorial, uncontradictable; stickler for obsolete forms and ceremonies&mdash;there
+      still lay deep under the crust of his pride the heart of a father, and, by
+      his standards, the soul of a gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What this renegade son of his thought of it all; this disturber of his
+      father's sleeping and waking hours, was far easier to discover. Dazed as
+      Harry had been at the parental verdict and heart-broken as he still was
+      over the dire results, he could not, though he tried, see what else he
+      could have done. His father, he argued to himself, had shot and killed a
+      man when he was but little older than himself, and for an offence much
+      less grave than Willits's insult to Kate: he had frequently boasted of it,
+      showing him the big brass button that had deflected the bullet and saved
+      his life. So had his Uncle George, five years before&mdash;not a dead man
+      that time, but a lame one&mdash;who was still limping around the club and
+      very good friends the two, so far as he knew. Why then blame HIM? As for
+      the law of hospitality being violated, that was but one of the
+      idiosyncrasies of his father, who was daft on hospitality. How could
+      Willits be his guest when he was his enemy? St. George had begged the
+      wounded man to apologize; if he had done so he would have extended his
+      hand and taken him to Kate, who, upon a second apology, would have
+      extended her hand, and the incident would have been closed. It was
+      Willits's stubbornness and bad breeding, then, that had caused the
+      catastrophe&mdash;not his own bullet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Besides no real harm had been done&mdash;that is, nothing very serious.
+      Willits had gained strength rapidly&mdash;so much so that he had sat up
+      the third day. Moreover, he had the next morning been carried to one of
+      the downstairs bedrooms, where, he understood, Kate had sent her black
+      mammy for news of him, and where, later on, he had been visited by both
+      Mrs. Rutter and Kate&mdash;a most extraordinary condescension on the young
+      girl's part, and one for which Willits should be profoundly grateful all
+      the days of his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor had Willits's people made any complaint; nor, so far as he could
+      ascertain, had any one connected with either the town or county government
+      started an investigation. It was outside the precincts of Kennedy Square,
+      and, therefore, the town prosecuting attorney (who had heard every detail
+      at the Chesapeake from St. George) had not been called upon to act, and it
+      was well known that no minion of the law in and about Moorlands would ever
+      dare face the Lord of the Manor in any official capacity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Why, then, had he been so severely punished?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER VIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      While all this talk filled the air it is worthy of comment that after his
+      denunciation of Pancoast's views at the club, St. George never again
+      discussed the duel and its outcome. His mind was filled with more
+      important things:&mdash;one in particular&mdash;a burning desire to bring
+      the lovers together, no matter at what cost nor how great the barriers. He
+      had not, despite his silence, altered a hair-line of the opinion he had
+      held on the night he ordered the gig, fastened Harry's heavy coat around
+      the young man's shoulders, and started back with him through the rain to
+      his house on Kennedy Square; nor did he intend to. This, summed up, meant
+      that the colonel was a tyrant, Willits a vulgarian, and Harry a hot-headed
+      young knight, who, having been forced into a position where he could
+      neither breathe nor move, had gallantly fought his way out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The one problem that gave him serious trouble was the selection of the
+      precise moment when he should make a strategic move on Kate's heart;
+      lesser problems were his manner of approaching her and the excuses he
+      would offer for Harry's behavior. These not only kept him awake at night,
+      but pursued him like an avenging spirit when he sought the quiet paths of
+      the old square, the dogs at his heels. The greatest of all barriers, he
+      felt assured, would be Kate herself. He had seen enough of her in that
+      last interview, when his tender pleading had restored the harmonies
+      between herself and Harry, to know that she was no longer the child whose
+      sweetness he loved, or the girl whose beauty he was proud of&mdash;but the
+      woman whose judgment he must satisfy. Nor could he see that any immediate
+      change in her mental attitude was likely to occur. Some time had now
+      passed since Harry's arrival at his house, and every day the boy had
+      begged for admission at Kate's door, only to be denied by Ben, the old
+      butler. His mother, who had visited her exiled son almost daily, had then
+      called on her, bearing two important pieces of news&mdash;one being that
+      after hours of pleading Harry had consented to return to Moorlands and beg
+      his father's pardon, provided that irate gentleman should send for him,
+      and the other the recounting of a message of condolence and sympathy which
+      Willits had sent Harry from his sick-bed, in which he admitted that he had
+      been greatly to blame. (An admission which fairly bubbled out of him when
+      he learned that Harry had assisted Teackle in dressing his wound.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet with all this pressure the young girl had held her own. To every
+      one outside the Rutter clan she had insisted that she was sorry for Harry,
+      but that she could never marry a man whose temper she could not trust. She
+      never put this into words in answering the well-meant inquiries of such
+      girl friends as Nellie Murdoch, Sue Dorsey, and the others; then her eyes
+      would only fill with tears as she begged them not to question her further.
+      Nor had she said as much to her father, who on one occasion had asked her
+      the plump question&mdash;&ldquo;Do you still intend to marry that hot-head?&rdquo;&mdash;to
+      which she had returned the equally positive answer&mdash;&ldquo;No, I never
+      shall!&rdquo; She reserved her full meaning for St. George when he should again
+      entreat her&mdash;as she knew he would at the first opportunity&mdash;to
+      forget the past and begin the old life once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the end of the second week St. George had made up his mind as to his
+      course; and at the end of the third the old diplomat, who had dared defeat
+      before, boldly mounted the Seymour steps. He would appeal to Harry's love
+      for her, and all would be well. He had done so before, picturing the
+      misery the boy was suffering, and he would try it again. If he could only
+      reach her heart through the armor of her reserve she would yield.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She answered his cheery call up the stairway in person, greeting him
+      silently, but with arms extended, leading him to a seat beside her, where
+      she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harry has tried to see you every day, Kate,&rdquo; he began, patting her
+      shoulders lovingly in the effort to calm her. &ldquo;I found him under your
+      window the other night; he walks the streets by the hour, then he comes
+      home exhausted, throws himself on his bed, and lies awake till daylight.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl raised her head and looked at him for a moment. She knew what he
+      had come for&mdash;she knew, too, how sorry he felt for her&mdash;for
+      Harry&mdash;for everybody who had suffered because of this horror.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle George,&rdquo; she answered, choking back her tears, speaking slowly,
+      weighing each word&mdash;&ldquo;you've known me from a little girl&mdash;ever
+      since my dear mother died. You have been a big brother to me many, many
+      times and I love you for it. If I were determined to do anything that
+      would hurt me, and you found it out in time, you would come and tell me
+      so, wouldn't you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George nodded his head in answer, but he did not interrupt. Her heart
+      was being slowly unrolled before him, and he would wait until it was all
+      bare.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now,&rdquo; she continued, &ldquo;the case is reversed, and you want me to do
+      something which I know will hurt me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you love him, Kate?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that is the worst part of it all,&rdquo; she answered with a stifled
+      sob&mdash;&ldquo;yes, I love him.&rdquo; She lifted herself higher on the cushions and
+      put her beautiful arms above her head, her eyes looking into space as if
+      she was trying to solve the problem of what her present resolve would mean
+      to both herself and Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George began again: &ldquo;And you remember how&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned impatiently and dropped one hand until it rested on his own. He
+      thought he had never seen her look so lovely and never so unhappy. Then
+      she said in pleading tones&mdash;her eyes blinded by half-restrained
+      tears:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't ask me to REMEMBER, dear Uncle George&mdash;help me to forget! You
+      can do no kinder thing for both of us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But think of your whole future happiness, Kate&mdash;think how important
+      it is to you&mdash;to Harry&mdash;to everybody&mdash;that you should not
+      shut him out of your life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have thought! God knows I have thought until sometimes I think I shall
+      go mad. He first breaks his promise about drinking and I forgive him; then
+      he yields to a sudden impulse and behaves like a mad-man and you ask me to
+      forgive him again. He never once thinks of me, nor of my humiliation!&rdquo; Her
+      lips were quivering, but her voice rang clear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He thinks of nothing else BUT you,&rdquo; he pleaded. &ldquo;Let your heart work&mdash;don't
+      throw him into the street as his father has done. He loves you so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;<i>I</i>&mdash;throw HIM in the street! He has thrown ME&mdash;mortified
+      me before everybody&mdash;behaved like a&mdash;No,&mdash;I can't&mdash;I
+      won't discuss it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;not another word. I love you too much to let this come between
+      us. Let us talk of something else&mdash;anything&mdash;ANYTHING.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The whole chart of her heart had been unrolled. Her head and not her heart
+      was dominant. He felt, moreover, that no argument of his would be of any
+      use. Time might work out the solution, but this he could not hasten. Nor,
+      if the truth be told, did he blame her. It was, from the girl's point of
+      view, most unfortunate, of course, that the two calamities of Harry's
+      drunkenness and the duel had come so close together. Perhaps&mdash;and for
+      the first time in his life he weakened before her tears&mdash;perhaps if
+      he had thrown the case of pistols out of the window, sent one man to his
+      father and the other back to Kennedy Square, it might all have been
+      different&mdash;but then again, could this have been done, and if it had
+      been, would not all have to be done over again the next day? At last he
+      asked hopelessly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you no message for Harry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;None,&rdquo; she answered resolutely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you will not see him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;we can never heal wounds by keeping them open.&rdquo; This came
+      calmly, and as if she had made up her mind, and in so determined a tone
+      that he saw it meant an end to the interview.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He rose from his seat and without another word turned toward the door. She
+      gained her feet slowly, as if the very movement caused her pain; put her
+      arms around his neck, kissed him on the cheek, followed him to the door,
+      waved her hand to him as she watched him pick his way across the square,
+      and threw herself on her lounge in an agony of tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That night St. George and Harry sat by the smouldering wood fire; the
+      early spring days were warm and joyous, but the nights were still cool.
+      The boy sat hunched up in his chair, his face drawn into lines from the
+      anxiety of the past week; his mind absorbed in the story that St. George
+      had brought from the Seymour house. As in all ardent temperaments, these
+      differences with Kate, which had started as a spark, had now developed
+      into a conflagration which was burning out his heart. His love for Kate
+      was not a part of his life&mdash;it was ALL of his life. He was ready now
+      for any sacrifice, no matter how humiliating. He would go down on his
+      knees to his father if she wished it. He would beg Willits's pardon&mdash;he
+      would abase himself in any way St. George should suggest. He had done what
+      he thought was right, and he would do it over again under like
+      circumstances, but he would grovel at Kate's feet and kiss the ground she
+      stepped on if she required it of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George, who had sat quiet, examining closely the backs of his finely
+      modelled hands as if to find some solution of the difficulty written in
+      their delicate articulated curves, heard his outburst in silence. Now and
+      then he would call to Todd, who was never out of reach of his voice&mdash;no
+      matter what the hour&mdash;to replenish the fire or snuff the candles, but
+      he answered only in nods and monosyllables to Harry. One suggestion only
+      of the heart-broken lover seemed to promise any result, and that was his
+      making it up with his father as his mother had suggested. This wall being
+      broken down, and Willits no longer an invalid, perhaps Kate would see
+      matters in a different and more favorable light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But suppose father doesn't send for me, Uncle George, what will I do
+      then?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he is your father, Harry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you think then I had better go home and have it out with him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George hesitated. He himself would have seen Rutter in Hades before he
+      would have apologized to him. In fact his anger choked him so every time
+      he thought of the brutal and disgraceful scene he had witnessed when the
+      boy had been ordered from his home, that he could hardly get his breath.
+      But then Kate was not his sweetheart, much as he loved her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, Harry. I am not his son,&rdquo; he answered in an undecided way.
+      Then something the boy's mother had said rose in his mind: &ldquo;Didn't your
+      mother say that your father's loneliness without you was having its
+      effect?&mdash;and wasn't her advice to wait until he should send for you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that was about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, your mother would know best. Put that question to her next time she
+      comes in&mdash;I'm not competent to answer it. And now let us go to bed&mdash;you
+      are tired out, and so am I.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER IX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Mysterious things are happening in Kennedy Square. Only the very wisest
+      men know what it is all about&mdash;black Moses for one, who tramps the
+      brick walks and makes short cuts through the dirt paths, carrying his tin
+      buckets and shouting: &ldquo;Po' ole Moses&mdash;po' ole fellah! O-Y-S-T-E-R-S!
+      O-Y-STERS!&rdquo; And Bobbins, the gardener, who raked up last year's autumn
+      leaves and either burned them in piles or spread them on the flower-beds
+      as winter blankets. And, of course, Mockburn, the night watchman: nothing
+      ever happens in and around Kennedy Square that Mockburn doesn't know of.
+      Many a time has he helped various unsteady gentlemen up the steps of their
+      houses and stowed them carefully and noiselessly away inside, only to
+      begin his rounds again, stopping at every corner to drone out his &ldquo;All's
+      we-l-l!&rdquo; a welcome cry, no doubt, to the stowaways, but a totally
+      unnecessary piece of information to the inhabitants, nothing worse than a
+      tippler's tumble having happened in the forty years of the old watchman's
+      service.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      I, of course, am in the secret of the mysterious happenings and have been
+      for more years than I care to admit, but then I go ten better than
+      Mockburn. And so would you be in the secret had you watched the process as
+      closely as I have done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is always the same!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      First the crocuses peep out&mdash;dozens of crocuses. Then a spread of
+      tulips makes a crazy-quilt of a flowerbed; next the baby buds, their
+      delicate green toes tickled by the south wind, break into laughter. Then
+      the stately magnolias step free of their pods, their satin leaves falling
+      from their alabaster shoulders&mdash;grandes dames these magnolias! And
+      then there is no stopping it: everything is let loose; blossoms of peach,
+      cherry, and pear; flowers of syringa&mdash;bloom of jasmine, honeysuckle,
+      and Virginia creeper; bridal wreath in flowers of white and wistaria in
+      festoons of purple.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then come the roses&mdash;millions of roses; on single stalks; in
+      clusters, in mobs; rushing over summer-houses, scaling fences, swarming up
+      trellises&mdash;a riotous, unruly, irresistible, and altogether lovable
+      lot these roses when they break loose!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the birds! What a time they are having&mdash;thrush, bobolinks,
+      blackbirds, nightingales, woodpeckers, little pee-wees, all fluttering,
+      skimming, chirping; bursting their tiny throats for the very joy of
+      living. And they are all welcome&mdash;and it wouldn't make any difference
+      to them if they hadn't been; they would have risked it anyway, so tempting
+      are the shady paths and tangled arbors and wide-spreading elms and
+      butternuts of Kennedy Square.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon the skies get over weeping for the lost winter and dry their eyes,
+      and the big, warm, happy sun sails over the tree-tops or drops to sleep,
+      tired out, behind the old Seymour house, and the girls come out in their
+      white dresses and silk sashes and the gallants in their nankeens and pumps
+      and the old life of out-of-doors begins once more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And these are not the only changes that the coming of spring has wrought.
+      What has been going on deep down in the tender, expectant hearts of root
+      and bulb, eager for expression, had been at work in Harry's own
+      temperament. The sunshine of St. George's companionship has already had
+      its effect; the boy is thawing out; his shrinking shyness, born of his
+      recent trouble, is disappearing like a morning frost. He is again seen at
+      the club, going first under St. George's lee and then on his own personal
+      footing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Chesapeake, so St. George had urged upon him, was the centre of news&mdash;the
+      headquarters, really, of the town, where not only the current happenings
+      and gossip of Kennedy Square were discussed, but that of the country at
+      large. While the bald-heads, of course, would be canvassing the news from
+      Mexico, which was just beginning to have an ugly look, or having it out,
+      hammer and tongs, over the defeat of Henry Clay, to which some rabid
+      politicians had never become reconciled, the younger gentry&mdash;men of
+      Harry's own tastes&mdash;would be deploring the poor showing the ducks
+      were making, owing to the up-river freshets which had spoiled the wild
+      celery; or recounting the doings at Mrs. Cheston's last ball; or the
+      terrapin supper at Mr. Kennedy's, the famous writer; or perhaps bemoaning
+      the calamity which had befallen some fellow member who had just found
+      seven bottles out of ten of his most precious port corked and worthless.
+      But whatever the topics, or whoever took sides in their discussion, none
+      of it, so St. George argued, could fail to interest a young fellow just
+      entering upon the wider life of a man of the world, and one, of all
+      others, who needed constant companionship. Then again, by showing himself
+      frequently within its walls, Harry would become better known and better
+      liked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That he was ineligible for membership, being years too young, and that his
+      continued presence, even as a guest, was against the rules, did not count
+      in his case, or if it did count, no member, in view of what the lad had
+      suffered, was willing to raise the question. Indeed, St. George, in first
+      introducing him, had referred to &ldquo;my friend, Mr. Rutter,&rdquo; as an &ldquo;out of
+      town guest,&rdquo; laughing as he did so, everybody laughing in return, and so
+      it had gone at that.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At first Harry had dreaded meeting his father's and his uncle's friends,
+      most of whom, he fancied, might be disposed to judge him too harshly. But
+      St. George had shut his ears to every objection, insisting that the club
+      was a place where a man could be as independent as he pleased, and that as
+      his guest he would be entitled to every consideration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy need not have been worried. Almost every member, young and old,
+      showed by his manner or some little act of attention that their sympathies
+      were with the exile. While a few strait-laced old Quakers maintained that
+      it was criminal to blaze away at your fellow-man with the firm intention
+      of blowing the top of his head off, and that Harry should have been hung
+      had Willits died, there were others more discerning&mdash;and they were
+      largely in the majority&mdash;who stood up for the lad however much they
+      deplored the cause of his banishment. Harry, they argued, had in his brief
+      career been an unbroken colt, and more or less dissipated, but he at least
+      had not shown the white feather. Boy as he was, he had faced his
+      antagonist with the coolness of a duellist of a score of encounters,
+      letting Willits fire straight at him without so much as the wink of an
+      eyelid; and, when it was all over, had been man enough to nurse his victim
+      back to consciousness. Moreover&mdash;and this counted much in his favor&mdash;he
+      had refused to quarrel with his irate father, or even answer him. &ldquo;Behaved
+      himself like a thoroughbred, as he is,&rdquo; Dorsey Sullivan, a famous
+      duellist, had remarked in recounting the occurrence to a non-witness. &ldquo;And
+      I must say, sir, that Talbot served him a scurvy trick, and I don't care
+      who hears me say it.&rdquo; Furthermore&mdash;and this made a great impression&mdash;that
+      rather than humiliate himself, the boy had abandoned the comforts of his
+      palatial home at Moorlands and was at the moment occupying a small,
+      second-story back room (all, it is true, Gentleman George could give him),
+      where he was to be found any hour of the day or night that his uncle
+      needed him in attendance upon that prince of good fellows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One other thing that counted in his favor, and this was conclusive with
+      the Quakers&mdash;and the club held not a few&mdash;was that no drop of
+      liquor of any kind had passed the boy's lips since the eventful night when
+      St. George prepared the way for their first reconciliation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Summed up, then, whatever Harry had been in the past, the verdict at the
+      present speaking was that he was a brave, tender-hearted, truthful fellow
+      who, in the face of every temptation, had kept his word. Moreover, it was
+      never forgotten that he was Colonel Talbot Rutter's only son and heir, so
+      that no matter what the boy did, or how angry the old autocrat might be,
+      it could only be a question of time before his father must send for him
+      and everything at Moorlands go on as before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was on one of these glorious never-to-be-forgotten spring days, then, a
+      week or more after St. George had given up the fight with Kate&mdash;a day
+      which Harry remembered all the rest of his life&mdash;that he and his
+      uncle left the house to spend the afternoon, as was now their custom, at
+      the Chesapeake. The two had passed the early hours of the day at the Relay
+      House fishing for gudgeons, the dogs scampering the hills, and having
+      changed their clothes for something cooler, had entered the park by the
+      gate opposite the Temple Mansion, as being nearest to the club; a path
+      Harry loved, for he and Kate had often stepped it together&mdash;and then
+      again, it was the shortest cut to her house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the beauty and quiet of the place with its mottling of light and shade
+      took possession of him he slackened his pace, lagging a little behind his
+      uncle, and began to look about him, drinking in the loveliness of the
+      season. The very air breathed tenderness, peace, and comfort. Certainly
+      his father's heart must be softening toward him; surely his bitterness
+      could not last. No word, it is true, had yet come to him from Moorlands,
+      though only the week before his mother had been in to see him, bringing
+      him news of his father and what her son's absence had meant to every one,
+      old Alec especially. She had not, she said, revived the subject of the
+      boy's apology; she had thought it better to wait for the proper
+      opportunity, which might come any day, but certain it was that his father
+      was most unhappy, for he would shut himself up hours at a time in his
+      library, locking the door and refusing to open it, no matter who knocked,
+      except to old John Gorsuch, his man of business. She had also heard him
+      tossing on his bed at night, or walking about his room muttering to
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Did these things, he wondered on this bright spring morning, mean a final
+      reconciliation, or was he, after all, to be doomed to further
+      disappointment? Days had passed since his mother had assured him of this
+      change in his father, and still no word had come from him. Had he at last
+      altered his mind, or, worse still, had his old obstinacy again taken
+      possession of him, hardening his heart so that he would never relent? And
+      so, with his mind as checkered as the shadow-flecked path on which they
+      stepped, he pursued his way beneath the wide-spreading trees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the two had crossed the street St. George's eye rested upon a group
+      on the sidewalk of the club. The summer weather generally emptied the
+      coffee-room of most of its habitues, sending many of them to the
+      easy-chairs on the sprinkled pavement, one or two tipped back against the
+      trees, or to the balconies and front steps. With his arm in Harry's he
+      passed from one coterie to another in the hope that he might catch some
+      word which would be interesting enough to induce him to fill one of the
+      chairs, even for a brief half-hour, but nothing reached his ears except
+      politics and crops, and he cared for neither. Harding&mdash;the pessimist
+      of the club&mdash;a man who always had a grievance (and this time with
+      reason, for the money stringency was becoming more acute every day), tried
+      to beguile him into a seat beside him, but he shook his head. He knew all
+      about Harding, and wanted none of his kind of talk&mdash;certainly not
+      to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Think of it!&rdquo; he had heard the growler say to Judge Pancoast as he was
+      about to pass his chair&mdash;&ldquo;the Patapsco won't give me a cent to move
+      my crops, and I hear all the others are in the same fix. You can't get a
+      dollar on a house and lot except at a frightful rate of interest. I tell
+      you everything is going to ruin. How the devil do you get on without
+      money, Temple?&rdquo; He was spread out in his seat, his legs apart, his fat
+      face turned up, his small fox eyes fixed on St. George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't get on,&rdquo; remarked St. George with a dry smile. He was still
+      standing. &ldquo;Why do you ask?&rdquo; Money rarely troubled St. George; such small
+      sums as he possessed were hived in this same Patapsco Bank, but the
+      cashier had never refused to honor one of his checks as long as he had any
+      money in their vaults, and he didn't think they would begin now. &ldquo;Queer
+      question for you to ask, Harding&rdquo; (and a trifle underbred, he thought,
+      one's private affairs not being generally discussed at a club). &ldquo;Why does
+      it interest you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you always say you despise money and yet you seem happy and
+      contented, well dressed, well groomed&rdquo;&mdash;here he wheeled St. George
+      around to look at his back&mdash;&ldquo;yes, got on one of your London coats&mdash;Hello,
+      Harry!&mdash;glad to see you,&rdquo; and he held out his hand to the boy. &ldquo;But
+      really, St. George, aren't you a little worried over the financial
+      outlook? John Gorsuch says we are going to have trouble, and John knows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&rdquo;&mdash;drawled St. George&mdash;&ldquo;I'm not worried.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you don't think we're going to have another smash-up?&rdquo; puffed
+      Harding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said St. George, edging his way toward the steps of the club as he
+      spoke. He was now entirely through with Harding; his financial forebodings
+      were as distasteful to him as his comments on his clothes and bank
+      account.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you'll have a julep, won't you? I've just sent John for them. Don't
+      go&mdash;sit down. Here, John, take Mr. Temple's order for&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Harding, thank you.&rdquo; The crushed ice in the glass was no cooler nor
+      crisper than St. George's tone. &ldquo;Harry and I have been broiling in the sun
+      all the morning and we are going to go where it is cool.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it's cool here,&rdquo; Harding called after him, struggling to his feet in
+      the effort to detain him. There was really no one in the club he liked
+      better than St. George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;we'll try it inside,&rdquo; and with a courteous wave of his hand and
+      a feeling of relief in his heart, he and Harry kept on their way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He turned to mount the steps when the sudden pushing back of all the
+      chairs on the sidewalk attracted his attention. Two ladies were picking
+      their way across the street in the direction of the club. These, on closer
+      inspection, proved to be Miss Lavinia Clendenning and her niece, Sue
+      Dorsey, who had been descried in the offing a few minutes before by the
+      gallants on the curbstone, and who at first had been supposed to be
+      heading for Mrs. Pancoast's front steps some distance away, until the
+      pair, turning sharply, had borne down upon the outside chairs with all
+      sails set&mdash;(Miss Clendenning's skirts were of the widest)&mdash;a
+      shift of canvas which sent every man to his feet with a spring.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before St. George could reach the group, which he did in advance of Harry,
+      who held back&mdash;both ladies being intimate friends of Kate's&mdash;old
+      Captain Warfield, the first man to gain his feet&mdash;very round and fat
+      was the captain and very red in the face (1812 Port)&mdash;was saying with
+      his most courteous bow:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, my dear Miss Lavinia, you have not as yet told us to what we are
+      indebted for this mark of your graciousness; and Sue, my dear, you grow
+      more like your dear mother every day. Why are you two angels abroad at
+      this hour, and what can we do for you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To the simple fact, my dear captain,&rdquo; retorted the irresistible spinster,
+      spreading her skirts the wider, both arms akimbo&mdash;her thin fingers
+      acting as clothespins, &ldquo;that Sue is to take her dancing lesson next door,
+      and as I can't fly in the second-story window, having mislaid my wings, I
+      must use my feet and disturb everybody. No, gentlemen&mdash;don't move&mdash;I
+      can pass.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The captain made so profound a salaam in reply that his hat grazed the
+      bricks of the sidewalk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let me hunt for them, Miss Lavinia. I know where they are!&rdquo; he exclaimed,
+      with his hand on his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where?&rdquo; she asked roguishly, twisting her head on one side with the
+      movement of a listening bird.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In heaven, my lady, where they are waiting your arrival,&rdquo; he answered,
+      with another profound sweep of his hand and dip of his back, his bald head
+      glistening in the sunlight as he stooped before her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you will never get near them,&rdquo; she returned with an equally low
+      curtsy and a laugh that nearly shook her side curls loose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George was about to step the closer to take a hand in the badinage&mdash;he
+      and the little old maid were forever crossing swords&mdash;when her eyes
+      fell upon him. Instantly her expression changed. She was one of the women
+      who had blamed him for not stopping the duel, and had been on the lookout
+      for him for days to air her views in person.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So you are still in town, are you?&rdquo; she remarked frigidly in lowered
+      tones. &ldquo;I thought you had taken that young firebrand down to the Eastern
+      Shore to cool off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George frowned meaningly in the effort to apprise her ladyship that
+      Harry was within hearing distance, but Miss Lavinia either did not, or
+      would not, understand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two young boobies, that's what they are, breaking their hearts over each
+      other,&rdquo; she rattled on, gathering the ends of her cape the closer. &ldquo;Both
+      of them ought to be spanked and put to bed. Get them into each other's
+      arms just as quick as you can. As for Talbot Rutter, he's the biggest fool
+      of the three, or was until Annie Rutter got hold of him. Now I hear he is
+      willing to let Harry come back, as if that would do any good. It's Kate
+      who must be looked after; that Scotch blood in her veins makes her as
+      pig-headed as her father. No&mdash;I don't want your arm, sir&mdash;get
+      out of my way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      If the courtiers heard&mdash;and half of them did&mdash;they neither by
+      word or expression conveyed that fact to Harry or St. George. It was not
+      intended for their ears, and, therefore, was not their property. With
+      still more profound salutations from everybody, the three bareheaded men
+      escorted them to the next stoop, the fourth going ahead to see that the
+      door was properly opened, and so the ladies passed on, up and inside the
+      house. This over, the group resumed its normal condition on the sidewalk,
+      the men regaining their seats and relighting their cigars (no gentleman
+      ever held one in evidence when ladies were present)&mdash;fresh orders
+      being given to the servants for the several interrupted mixtures with
+      which the coterie were wont to regale themselves.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry, who had stood with shoulders braced against a great tree on the
+      sidewalk, had heard every word of the old maid's outburst, and an
+      unrestrained burst of joy had surged up in his heart. His father was
+      coming round! Yes&mdash;the tide was turning&mdash;it would not be long
+      before Kate would be in his arms!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER X
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      St. George held no such sanguine view, although he made no comment. In
+      fact the outbreak had rather depressed him. He knew something of Talbot's
+      stubbornness and did not hope for much in that direction, nor, if the
+      truth be told, did he hope much in Kate's. Time alone could heal her
+      wounds, and time in the case of a young girl, mistress of herself,
+      beautiful, independent, and rich, might contain many surprises.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was with a certain sense of relief, therefore, that he again sought the
+      inside of the club. Its restful quiet would at least take his mind from
+      the one subject which seemed to pursue him and which Miss Clendenning's
+      positive and, as he thought, inconsiderate remarks had so suddenly
+      revived.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before he had reached the top step his face broke out into a broad smile.
+      Instantly his spirits rose. Standing in the open front door, with
+      outstretched hand, was the man of all others he would rather have seen&mdash;Richard
+      Horn, the inventor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, St. George, but I'm glad to see you!&rdquo;, cried Richard. &ldquo;I have been
+      looking for you all the afternoon and only just a moment ago got sight of
+      you on the sidewalk. I should certainly have stepped over to your house
+      and looked you up if you hadn't come. I've got the most extraordinary
+      thing to read to you that you have ever listened to in the whole course of
+      your life. How well you look, and what a fine color you have, and you too,
+      Harry. You are in luck, my boy. I'd like to stay a month with Temple
+      myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Make it a year, Richard,&rdquo; cried St. George, resting his hand
+      affectionately on the inventor's shoulder. &ldquo;There isn't a chair in my
+      house that isn't happier when you sit in it. What have you discovered?&mdash;some
+      new whirligig?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, a poem. Eighteen to twenty stanzas of glorious melody imprisoned in
+      type.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One of your own?&rdquo; laughed St. George&mdash;one of his merry vibrating
+      laughs that made everybody happier about him. The sight of Richard had
+      swept all the cobwebs out of his brain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you trifler!&mdash;one of Edgar Allan Poe's. None of your scoffing,
+      sir! You may go home in tears before I am through with you. This way, both
+      of you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The three had entered the coffee-room now, Richard's arm through St.
+      George's, Harry following close. The inventor drew out the chairs one
+      after another, and when they were all three seated took a missive from his
+      pocket and spread it out on his knee, St. George and Harry keeping their
+      eyes on his every movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's a letter, St. George&rdquo;&mdash;Richard's voice now fell to a serious
+      key&mdash;&ldquo;which I have just received from your friend and mine, Mr. N. P.
+      Willis. In it he sends me this most wonderful poem cut from his paper&mdash;the
+      Mirror&mdash;and published, I discover to my astonishment, some months
+      back. I am going to read it to you if you will permit me. It certainly is
+      a most remarkable production. The wonder to me is that I haven't seen it
+      before. It is by that Mr. Poe you met at my house some years ago&mdash;you
+      remember him?&mdash;a rather sad-looking man with big head and deep eyes?&rdquo;
+       Temple nodded in answer, and Harry's eyes glistened: Poe was one of his
+      university's gods. &ldquo;Just let me read to you what Willis says&rdquo;&mdash;here
+      he glanced down the letter sheet: &ldquo;'Nothing, I assure you, my dear Horn,
+      has made so great a stir in literary circles as this &ldquo;Raven&rdquo; of Poe's. I
+      am sending it to you knowing that you are interested in the man. If I do
+      not mistake I first met Poe one night at your house.' And a very
+      extraordinary night it was, St. George,&rdquo; said Richard, lifting his eyes
+      from the sheet. &ldquo;Poe, if you remember, read one of his stories for us, and
+      both Latrobe and Kennedy were so charmed that they talked of nothing else
+      for days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George remembered so clearly that he could still recall the tones of
+      Poe's voice, and the peculiar lambent light that flashed from out the
+      poet's dark eyes&mdash;the light of a black opal. He settled himself back
+      in his chair to enjoy the treat the better. This was the kind of talk he
+      wanted to-day, and Richard Horn, of all others, was the man to conduct it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The inventor's earnestness and the absorbed look on St. George's and
+      Harry's faces, and the fact that Horn was about to read aloud, had
+      attracted the attention of several near-by members, who were already
+      straining their ears, for no one had Richard's gift for reading.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In low, clear tones, his voice rising in intensity as the weird pathos of
+      the several stanzas gripped his heart, he unfolded the marvellous drama
+      until the very room seemed filled with the spirit of both the man and the
+      demon. Every stanza in his clear enunciation seemed a separate string of
+      sombre pearls, each syllable aglow with its own inherent beauty. When he
+      ceased it was as if the soul of some great 'cello had stopped vibrating,
+      leaving only the memory of its melody. For a few seconds no one moved nor
+      spoke. No one had ever heard Richard in finer voice nor had they ever
+      listened to more perfect rhythmic beauty. So great was the effect on the
+      audience that one old habitue, in speaking of it afterward, insisted that
+      Richard must have seen the bird roosting over the door, so realistic was
+      his rendering.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry had listened with bated breath, absorbing every tone and inflection
+      of Richard's voice. He and Poe had been members of the same university,
+      and the poet had always been one of his idols&mdash;the man of all others
+      he wanted most to know. Poe's former room opening into the corridor had
+      invariably attracted him. He had frequently looked about its bare walls
+      wondering how so great an inspiration could have started from such meagre
+      surroundings. He had, too, with the romantic imagination of a boy,
+      pictured to himself the kind of man he was, his looks, voice, and manner,
+      and though he had never seen the poet in the flesh, somehow the tones of
+      Richard's voice recalled to him the very picture he had conjured up in his
+      mind in his boyhood days.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George had also listened intently, but the impression was quite
+      different from the one made on the younger man. Temple thought only of
+      Poe's despondency, of his striving for a better and happier life; of his
+      poverty&mdash;more than once had he gone down into his own pockets to
+      relieve the poor fellow's urgent necessities, and he was still ready to do
+      it again&mdash;a readiness in which he was almost alone, for many of the
+      writer's earlier friends had of late avoided meeting him whenever he
+      passed through Kennedy Square. Even Kennedy, his life-long friend, had
+      begun to look upon him as a hopeless case.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This antipathy was also to be found in the club. Even with the memory of
+      Richard's voice in their ears one of the listeners had shrugged his
+      shoulders, remarking with a bitter laugh that musical as was the poem,
+      especially as rendered by Richard, it was, after all, like most of Poe's
+      other manuscripts, found in a bottle, or more likely &ldquo;a bottle found in a
+      manuscript,&rdquo; as that crazy lunatic couldn't write anything worth reading
+      unless he was half drunk. At which St. George had blazed out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush, Bowdoin! You ought to be willing to be blind drunk half your time
+      if you could write one stanza of it! Please let me have it, Richard,&rdquo; and
+      he took the sheet from his friend's hand, that he and Harry might read it
+      at their leisure when they reached home.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry's blood had also boiled at the rude thrust. While under the spell of
+      Richard's voice a cord in his own soul had vibrated as does a glass globe
+      when it responds in perfect harmony to a note from a violin. He too had a
+      Lenore whose loss had wellnigh broken his heart. This in itself was an
+      indissoluble bond between them. Besides, he could understand the poet as
+      Alec and his mother and his Uncle George understood himself. He had begun
+      now to love the man in his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With his mind filled with these thoughts, his hunger for Kate aroused
+      tenfold by the pathos and weird beauty of what he had just heard, he left
+      the group of men who were still discussing the man and his verses, and
+      joined his uncle outside on the top step of the club's high stoop, from
+      which could be seen the full length of the sun-flecked street on which the
+      clubhouse stood, as well as the park in all its spring loveliness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Unconsciously his eyes wandered across the path where Kate's house stood.
+      He could see the tall chimneys and the slope of the quaint roof, and but
+      that the foliage hid the lower part, could have seen Kate's own windows.
+      She was still at home, he had heard, although she was expected to leave
+      for the Red Sulphur any day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly, from away up the street, past the corner of the park, there
+      reached his ears a low winding note, which grew louder as it turned the
+      corner, followed by the rattle of wheels and the clatter of horses' feet.
+      He leaned forward and craned his head in the direction of the sound, his
+      heart in his throat, the blood mounting to his cheeks. If that was not his
+      father's horn it was wonderfully like it. At the same moment a
+      coach-and-four swept in sight, driven by a man in a whitey-brown coat and
+      stiff furry hat, with two grooms behind and a coachman next to him on the
+      box. It was heading straight for the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every man was on his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By Jove!&mdash;it's Rutter. Bowdoin!&mdash;Clayton!&mdash;here comes the
+      colonel!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the horn gave out a long withering, wiry note ringing through the
+      leaves and along the brick pavement, and the next instant the leaders were
+      gathered up, the wheel-horses hauled taut, the hub of the front wheel of
+      the coach halting within an inch of the horse-block of the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bravo, Rutter! Best whip in the county! Not a man in England could have
+      done it better. Let me help you down!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel shook his head good-humoredly, rose in his seat, shifted a
+      bunch of violets to his inner lapel, slipped off his driving-coat, threw
+      it across the rail, dropped his whip in the socket, handed his heavy
+      gloves to his groom, and slid gracefully to the sidewalk. There he shook
+      hands cordially with the men nearest him, excused himself for a moment
+      until he had inspected his off leader's forefoot&mdash;she had picked up a
+      stone on the way in from Moorlands&mdash;patted the nigh wheel-horse,
+      stamped his own feet lustily as if to be sure he was all there, and, with
+      a lordly bow to those about him, slowly mounted the steps of the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry had already risen to his feet and stood trembling, one hand
+      clutching the iron railing that guarded the marble steps. A great throb of
+      joy welled up in his throat. His mother was right&mdash;the loneliness had
+      overpowered his father; he still loved him, and Miss Clendenning's
+      prediction was coming true! Not only was he willing to forgive him, but he
+      had come himself to take him home. He could hardly wait until his father
+      reached his side, so eager was he to open his arms and hands and his lips
+      in apology&mdash;and Kate!&mdash;what joy would be hers!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George had also gained his feet. What had brought the colonel into
+      town, he said to himself, and in such state&mdash;and at this hour of the
+      day, too? Could it be that Harry was the cause?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How were the roads, Talbot?&rdquo; he called out in his customary cheery tones.
+      He would start fair, anyway.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel, who, head down, had been mounting the marble steps one at a
+      time, inspecting each slab as he climbed, after the manner of men
+      thoroughly satisfied with themselves, and who at the same time are
+      conscious of the effect of their presence on those about them, raised his
+      head and gazed in astonishment at the speaker. Then his body straightened
+      up and he came to a stand-still. He looked first into St. George's face,
+      then into Harry's, with a cold, rigid stare; his lips shut tight, his head
+      thrown back, his whole frame stiff as an iron bar&mdash;and without a word
+      of recognition of any kind, passed through the open door and into the wide
+      hall. He had cut both of them dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry gave a half-smothered cry of anguish and turned to follow his father
+      into the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George, purple with rage, laid his hand on the boy's arm, so tight
+      that the fingers sank into the flesh: there were steel clamps inside these
+      delicate palms when occasion required.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Keep still,&rdquo; he hissed&mdash;&ldquo;not a word, no outburst. Stay here until I
+      come for you. Stop, Rutter: stand where you are!&rdquo; The two were abreast of
+      each other now. &ldquo;You dare treat your son in that way? Horn&mdash;Murdoch&mdash;Warfield&mdash;all
+      of you come out here! What I've got to say to Talbot Rutter I want you to
+      hear, and I intend that not only you but every decent man and woman in
+      Kennedy Square shall hear!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel's lips quivered and his face paled, but he did not flinch, nor
+      did his eyes drop.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are not a father, Talbot&mdash;you are a brute! There is not a dog in
+      your kennels that would not treat his litter better than you have treated
+      Harry! You turned him out in the night without a penny to his name; you
+      break his mother's heart; you refuse to hear a word he has to say, and
+      then you have the audacity to pass him on the steps of this club where he
+      is my guest&mdash;my guest, remember&mdash;look him squarely in the face
+      and ignore him. That, gentlemen, is what Talbot Rutter did one minute ago.
+      You have disgraced your blood and your name and you have laid up for your
+      old age untold misery and suffering. Never, as long as I live, will I
+      speak to you again, nor shall Harry, whom you have humiliated! Hereafter
+      <i>I</i> am his father! Do you hear?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      During the whole outburst the colonel had not moved a muscle of his face
+      nor had he shifted his body a quarter of an inch. He stood with his back
+      to the door through which could be seen the amazed faces of his
+      fellow-members&mdash;one hand tight shut behind his back, the other loose
+      by his side, his eyes fixed on his antagonist. Then slowly, one word at a
+      time, as if he had purposely measured the intervals of speech, he said, in
+      a voice hardly heard beyond the door, so low was it:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are&mdash;you&mdash;through&mdash;St. George?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, by God!&mdash;I am, and forever!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then, gentlemen&rdquo;&mdash;and he waved his hand courteously to the astounded
+      listeners&mdash;&ldquo;may I ask you all to join me? John, bring the juleps!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      All the way back to his house St. George's wrath kept him silent. He had
+      rarely been so stirred. He was not a brawler&mdash;his whole life had been
+      one of peace; his whole ambition to be the healer of differences, and yet
+      there were some things he could not stand. One of these was cruelty to a
+      human being, and Rutter's public disowning of Harry was cruelty of the
+      most contemptible kind. But one explanation of such an outrage was
+      possible&mdash;the man's intolerable egoism, added to his insufferable
+      conceit. Only once did Temple address Harry, walking silently by his side
+      under the magnolias, and then only to remark, more to himself than to his
+      companion&mdash;&ldquo;It's his damned, dirty pride, Harry&mdash;that's what it
+      is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry also held his peace. He had no theories regarding his father's
+      conduct: only facts confronted him, one being that he had purposely
+      humiliated him before the men who had known him from a boy, and with whom
+      his future life must be cast. The end had come now. He was adrift without
+      a home. Even Kate was lost. This last attack of his father's would widen
+      the breach between them, for she would never overlook this last stigma
+      when she heard of it, as she certainly must. Nobody would then be left on
+      his side except his dear mother, the old house servants, and St. George,
+      and of these St. George alone could be of any service to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It had all been so horrible too, and so undeserved&mdash;worse than
+      anything he had ever dreamed of; infinitely worse than the night he had
+      been driven from Moorlands. Never in all his life had he shown his father
+      anything but obedience and respect; furthermore, he had loved and admired
+      him; loved his dash and vigor; his superb physique for a man of his years&mdash;some
+      fifty odd&mdash;loved too his sportsmanlike qualities&mdash;not a man in
+      the county was his equal in the saddle, and not a man in his own or any
+      other county could handle the ribbons so well. If his father had not
+      agreed with him as to when and where he should teach a vulgarian manners,
+      that had been a question about which gentlemen might differ, but to have
+      treated him with contempt, to insult him in public, leaving him no chance
+      to defend himself&mdash;force him, really, into a position which made it
+      impossible for him to strike back&mdash;was altogether a different thing,
+      and for that he would never, never forgive him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then a strange thing happened in the boy's mind. It may have been the
+      shifting of a grain of gray matter never called into use before; or it may
+      have been due to some stranded red corpuscle which, dislodged by the
+      pressure he had lately been called upon to endure, had rushed headlong
+      through his veins scouring out everything in its way until it reached his
+      thinking apparatus. Whatever the cause, certain it was that the change in
+      the boy's view of life was as instantaneous as it was radical.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And this was quite possible when his blood is considered. There had been,
+      it is true, dominating tyrants way back in his ancestry, as well as
+      spend-thrifts, drunkards, roysterers, and gamesters, but so far as the
+      records showed there had never been a coward. That old fellow De Ruyter,
+      whose portrait hung at Moorlands and who might have been his father, so
+      great was the resemblance, had, so to speak, held a shovel in one hand and
+      a sword in the other in the days when he helped drown out his own and his
+      neighbors' estates to keep the haughty don from gobbling up his country.
+      One had but to look into Harry's face to be convinced that he too would
+      have followed in his footsteps had he lived in that ancestor's time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was when the boy, smarting under his father's insult, was passing under
+      the blossoms of a wide-spreading magnolia, trying to get a glimpse of
+      Kate's face, if by any chance she should be at her window, that this grain
+      of gray matter, or lively red corpuscle&mdash;or whatever it might have
+      been&mdash;forced itself through. The breaking away was slow&mdash;little
+      by little&mdash;as an underground tunnel seeks an opening&mdash;but the
+      light increased with every thought-stroke, its blinding intensity becoming
+      so fierce at last that he came to a halt, his eyes on the ground, his
+      whole body tense, his mind in a whirl.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly his brain acted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To sit down and snivel would do no good; to curse his father would be
+      useless and wicked; to force himself on Kate sheer madness. But&mdash;BUT&mdash;BUT&mdash;he
+      was twenty-two!&mdash;in perfect health and not ashamed to look any man in
+      the face. St. George loved him&mdash;so did his precious mother, and Alec,
+      and a host of others. Should he continue to sit in ashes, swaddled in
+      sackcloth&mdash;or should he meet the situation like a man? Then as his
+      mental vision became accustomed to the glare, two things stood out clear
+      in his mind&mdash;to win Kate back, no matter at what cost&mdash;and to
+      compel his father's respect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His mother was the first to hear the music of this new note of resolve,
+      and she had not long to wait. She had come to town with the colonel&mdash;indeed
+      it was at her request that he had ordered the coach instead of coming in
+      on horseback, as was his custom&mdash;and was at the moment quietly
+      resting on St. George's big sofa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is all over, mother,&rdquo; Harry cried in a voice so firm and determined
+      that his mother knew at once something unusual had happened&mdash;&ldquo;and you
+      might as well make up your mind to it&mdash;I have. Father walked into the
+      club five minutes ago, looked me square in the face, and cut me dead; and
+      he insulted Uncle George too, who gave him the greatest dressing down you
+      ever heard in your life.&rdquo; He had learned another side of his uncle's
+      character&mdash;one he should never cease to be grateful for&mdash;his
+      outspoken defence of him before his equals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Rutter half rose from her seat in blank astonishment. She was a frail
+      little woman with pale-blue eyes and a figure like a curl of smoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your&mdash;father&mdash;did not&mdash;speak&mdash;to&mdash;you!&rdquo; she
+      exclaimed excitedly. &ldquo;You say&mdash;your father&mdash;But how dare he!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he did!&rdquo; replied Harry in a voice that showed the incident still
+      rankled in his mind&mdash;&ldquo;and right in the club, before everybody.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the other gentlemen saw it?&rdquo; She stood erect, her delicate body
+      tightening up. There was a strain of some old-time warrior in her blood
+      that would brook no insult to her son.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, half a dozen gentlemen saw it. He did it purposely&mdash;so they
+      COULD see. I'll never forgive him for it as long as I live. He had no
+      business to treat me so!&rdquo; His voice choked as he spoke, but there was no
+      note of surrender or of fear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him in a helpless sort of way. &ldquo;But you didn't answer back,
+      did you, my son?&rdquo; This came in a tone as if she feared to hear the
+      details, knowing the boy's temperament, and his father's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't say a word; Uncle George wouldn't let me. I'm glad now he
+      stopped me, for I was pretty mad, and I might have said something I would
+      have been sorry for.&rdquo; The mother gave a sigh of relief, but she did not
+      interrupt, nor did she relax the tautness of her body. &ldquo;You ought to have
+      heard Uncle George, though!&rdquo; Harry rushed on. &ldquo;He told him there was not a
+      dog at Moorlands who would not have treated his puppy better than he had
+      me&mdash;and another thing he told him&mdash;and that was that after
+      to-day I was HIS son forever!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George had been standing at the front window with his back to them,
+      looking out upon the blossoms. At this last outburst he turned, and said
+      over his shoulder:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that's true, Annie&mdash;that's what I said and what I mean.
+      There is no use wasting any more time over Talbot, and I don't intend to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But Mr. Rutter will get over his temper.&rdquo; (She never called him by any
+      other name.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then he will have to come here and say so. I shall never step foot in his
+      house until he does, nor will Harry. As to his forgiving Harry&mdash;the
+      boot is on the other leg; it is Talbot, not the boy he outraged, who must
+      straighten out to-day's work. There was not a man who heard him who was
+      not ashamed of him. Oh!&mdash;I have no patience with this sort of thing!
+      The only son he's got&mdash;his only child! Abominable&mdash;unforgivable!
+      And it will haunt him to his dying day! Poor as I am, alone in the world
+      and without a member of my family above ground, I would not change places
+      with him. No&mdash;Annie&mdash;I know how you feel, and God knows I have
+      felt for you all these years, but I tell you the end has come! It's
+      finished&mdash;over&mdash;I told him so to his face, and I mean it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The slight body sank back into her chair and her eyes filled with tears.
+      Harry knelt beside her and put his arms about her. This mother, frail as
+      she was, had always been his refuge and comfort: now he must do the
+      comforting! (Keep moving, old red corpuscle, there is a lot of work ahead
+      of you!)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't worry, you dear little mother,&rdquo; he said tenderly. &ldquo;I don't know how
+      it's coming out, but it will come out somehow. Let father go: Kate is the
+      only thing that counts now. I don't blame her for anything she has done,
+      and I don't blame myself either. All I know is that everything has gone
+      wrong. But, wrong or right, I'm going to stay here just as long as Uncle
+      George will let me. He's been more of a father to me than my own. It's you
+      I can't get along without, you precious little mother,&rdquo; and he patted her
+      pale cheeks. &ldquo;Won't you come in every day&mdash;and bring Alec too?&rdquo; then,
+      as if he had not yet asked her consent&mdash;&ldquo;You don't mind my being
+      here, do you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She drew his head close to her lips and kissed his cheek. &ldquo;No, my son, I
+      don't mind&mdash;I'm glad. Every night of my life I thank my Maker that
+      you are here.&rdquo; She raised her eyes to St. George, who stood looking down
+      upon them both, and in a voice barely audible, an unbidden sob choking her
+      utterance, faltered&mdash;&ldquo;It's only one more proof of your goodness, St.
+      George.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He raised his hand in protest and a faint smile crossed his face. &ldquo;Don't
+      talk that way. Annie.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will&mdash;it's true. It is a proof of your goodness. I have never
+      deserved it. I don't now&mdash;but you never fail me.&rdquo; Her voice was
+      clearer now&mdash;her cheeks, too, had regained some of their color. Harry
+      listened wonderingly, his arm still around her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't do anything else, Annie&mdash;nobody could under the
+      circumstances.&rdquo; His voice had dropped almost to a whisper.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it was for me you did it, St. George. I would rather think of it that
+      way; it makes it easier. Say you did it for me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George stooped down, raised her thin white hand to his lips, kissed it
+      reverently, and without a word of any kind walked to the door of his
+      bedroom and shut it behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mrs. Rutter's hand dropped to her lap and a smile of intense relief passed
+      over her face. She neither looked after St. George, nor did she offer any
+      explanation to Harry; she merely bent forward and continued her caresses,
+      stroking the boy's glossy hair, patting the white temples with her
+      delicate fingers, smoothing the small, well-set ears and the full brown
+      throat, kissing his forehead, her eyes reading his face, wondering if she
+      had spoken too freely and yet regretting nothing: what she had said had
+      come straight from her heart and she was not ashamed of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy lay still, his head against her breast. That his mother had been
+      stirred even in a greater degree over what St. George had said to her than
+      she had been by his father's treatment of him was evident in the trembling
+      movement of the soft hands caressing his hair and in the way her breath
+      came and went. Under her soothing touch his thoughts went back to the
+      events of the morning:&mdash;his uncle's defiant tones as he denounced his
+      father; his soft answer to his mother; her pleading words in reply, and
+      then the reverent kiss.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly, clear as the tones of a far-off convent bell sifting down from
+      some cloud-swept crag, there stole into his mind a memory of his childhood&mdash;a
+      legend of long ago, vague and intangible&mdash;one he could not put into
+      words&mdash;one Alec had once hinted at. He held his breath trying to
+      gather up the loose ends&mdash;to make a connected whole; to fit the parts
+      together. Then, as one blows out a candle, leaving total darkness, he
+      banished it all from his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mother dear!&mdash;mother dear!&rdquo; he cried tenderly, and wound his arms
+      the closer about her neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She gathered him up as she had done in the old days when he was a child at
+      her breast; all the intervening years seemed blotted out. He was her baby
+      boy once more&mdash;her constant companion and unending comfort: the one
+      and only thing in her whole life that understood her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon the warmth and strength of the full man began to reach her heart. She
+      drew him still closer, this strong son who loved her, and in the embrace
+      there grew a new and strange tenderness&mdash;one born of confidence. It
+      was this arm which must defend her now; this head and heart which must
+      guide her. She was no longer adrift.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two had not moved when St. George re-entered the room some moments
+      later. Harry's head still lay on her breast, the thin, transparent hands
+      tight about his neck.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The colonel's treatment of Harry at the club had cleared the air of any
+      doubt that either the boy or St. George might have had concerning Rutter's
+      frame of mind. Henceforth the boy and the man would conduct their lives as
+      if the Lord of Moorlands did not exist.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So the boy unpacked the things which Alec had brought in, and with his
+      mother's assistance&mdash;who came in once a week&mdash;hung up his
+      hunting-clothes in the closet, racked up his guns and fishing-rods over
+      the mantel, and suspended his favorite saddle by a stirrup on a hook in
+      the hall. Then the two had set out his books and miniatures; one of his
+      mother, which he kissed tenderly, with the remark that it wasn't half as
+      pretty as the original, and then propped up in the place of honor in the
+      middle of his desk, and another of his father, which he placed on an
+      adjoining table&mdash;as well as his few belongings and knickknacks. And
+      so the outcast settled down determined not only to adapt himself to the
+      comforts&mdash;or want of them&mdash;to be found under St. George's roof,
+      but to do it cheerfully, gratefully, and like a man and a gentleman.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To none of all this did his father offer a single objection. &ldquo;Make a clean
+      sweep of Mr. Harry Rutter's things,&rdquo; he had said to Alec, &ldquo;so that I may
+      be relieved from the annoyance of a second delivery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Alec had repeated the order to Harry word for word, adding: &ldquo;Don't you
+      sass back, Marse Harry&mdash;let him blow hisse'f out&mdash;he don't mean
+      nothin'. He's dat mad he's crazy&mdash;gits dat way sometimes&mdash;den
+      purty soon he's fit to bust hisse'f wide open a-cryin'! I see him do dat
+      once when you warn't mo'n so high, and de doctor said you was daid fo'
+      sho'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry made no reply, but it did not ruffle his temper. His duty was no
+      longer to be found at Moorlands; his Uncle George claimed him. All his
+      hours would now be devoted to showing him how grateful he was for his
+      protection and guidance. Time enough for his father, and time enough for
+      Kate, for that matter, should the clouds ever lift&mdash;as lift they
+      would&mdash;but his Uncle George first, last, and all the time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And St. George appreciated it to the full. Never had he been so happy.
+      Even the men at the club saw the change, and declared he looked ten years
+      younger&mdash;fifteen really, when Harry was with him, which was almost
+      always the case&mdash;for out of consideration for St. George and the
+      peculiar circumstances surrounding the boy's condition, his birth and
+      station, and the pride they took in his pluck, the committee had at last
+      stretched the rule and had sent Mr. Henry Gilmor Rutter of Moorlands&mdash;with
+      special reference to &ldquo;Moorlands,&rdquo; a perennial invitation entitling him to
+      the club's privileges&mdash;a card which never expired because it was
+      systematically renewed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And it was not only at the club that the two men were inseparable. In
+      their morning walks, the four dogs in full cry; at the races; in the
+      hunts, when some one loaned both Harry and his uncle a mount&mdash;at
+      night, when Todd passed silently out, leaving all the bottled comforts
+      behind him&mdash;followed by&mdash;&ldquo;Ah, Harry!&mdash;and you won't join
+      me? That's right, my son&mdash;and I won't ask you,&rdquo; the two passed almost
+      every hour of the day and night together. It was host one minute and
+      father the next.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And this life, if the truth be told, did not greatly vary from the one the
+      boy had always led, except that there was more of town and less of country
+      in it than he had heretofore been accustomed to. The freedom from all care&mdash;for
+      the colonel had trained Harry to neither business nor profession&mdash;was
+      the same, and so was the right to employ his time as he pleased. At
+      Moorlands he was busy over his horses and dogs, his sporting outfits,
+      riding to hounds, cock-fights&mdash;common in those days&mdash;and, of
+      course, assisting his father and mother in dispensing the hospitality of
+      the house. In Kennedy Square St. George was his chief occupation, and of
+      the two he liked the last the best. What he had hungered for all his life
+      was sympathy and companionship, and this his father had never given him;
+      nor had he known what it was since his college days. Advice, money,
+      horses, clothes, guns&mdash;anything and everything which might, could, or
+      would redound to the glory of the Rutters had been his for the asking, but
+      the touch of a warm hand, the thrill in the voice when he had done
+      something to please and had waited for an acknowledgment&mdash;that had
+      never come his way. Nothing of this kind was needed between men, his
+      father would say to Harry's mother&mdash;and his son was a man now. Had
+      their child been a daughter, it would have been quite another thing, but a
+      son was to be handled differently&mdash;especially an only son who was
+      sole heir to one's entire estate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet it must not be thought that the outcast spent his time in sheer
+      idleness. St. George would often find him tucked away in one of his big
+      chairs devouring some book he had culled from the old general's library in
+      the basement&mdash;a room adjoining the one occupied by a firm of young
+      lawyers&mdash;Pawson &amp; Pawson (only one brother was alive)&mdash;with
+      an entrance on the side street, it being of &ldquo;no use to me&rdquo; St. George had
+      said&mdash;&ldquo;and the rent will come in handy.&rdquo; Tales of the sea especially
+      delighted the young fellow&mdash;the old admiral's blood being again in
+      evidence&mdash;and so might have been the mother's fine imagination. It
+      was Defoe and Mungo Park and Cooke who enchained the boy's attention, as
+      well as many of the chronicles of the later navigators. But of the current
+      literature of the day&mdash;Longfellow, Margaret Fuller, Hawthorne, and
+      Emerson&mdash;no one appealed to him as did the man Poe. He and St. George
+      had passed many an hour discussing him. Somehow the bond of sympathy
+      between himself and the poet had become the stronger. Both had wept bitter
+      tears over the calamities that had followed an unrequited love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was during one of these talks&mdash;and the poet was often under
+      discussion&mdash;that St. George had suddenly risen from his chair,
+      lighted a candle, and had betaken himself to the basement&mdash;a place he
+      seldom visited&mdash;from which he brought back a thin, crudely bound, and
+      badly printed, dust-covered volume bearing the title &ldquo;Tamerlane:&mdash;by
+      a Bostonian.&rdquo; This, with a smile he handed to Harry. Some friend had given
+      him the little book when it was first published and he had forgotten it
+      was in the house until he noted Harry's interest in the author. Then
+      again, he wanted to see whether it was the boy's literary taste, never
+      much in evidence, or his romantic conception of the much-talked-of poet,
+      which had prompted his intense interest in the man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Read these poems, Harry, and tell me who wrote them,&rdquo; said St. George,
+      dusting the book with a thrash of his handkerchief and tossing it to the
+      young fellow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy caught it, skimmed through the thin volume, lingered over one or
+      two pages, absorbing each line, and replied in a decided and delighted
+      voice: &ldquo;The same man who wrote 'The Raven,' of course&mdash;there can't be
+      any doubt of it. I can hear Mr. Horn's voice in every line. Why didn't you
+      let me have it before?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure?&rdquo; asked St. George, watching him closely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Am I sure?&mdash;of course I am! Listen to this:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'We grew in age&mdash;and&mdash;love&mdash;together, Roaming the forest
+      and the wild&mdash;'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's Kate and me, Uncle George,&rdquo; and he smiled sadly. &ldquo;And then this
+      line:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'I saw no heaven but in her eyes.'
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And then these lines in 'The Raven'&mdash;wait&mdash;I will read them.&rdquo;
+       He had the sheet of paper in his pocket which Richard Horn had read from
+      at the club, and knew the poem now by heart:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn, It
+      shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels call Lenore'&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's me again. I wish I could read it like Mr. Horn. What a voice&mdash;so
+      deep&mdash;so musical&mdash;like a great organ, or, rather, like one of
+      the big strings on his violin.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what a mind, too, Harry,&rdquo; rejoined St. George. &ldquo;Richard is a long way
+      ahead of his time. His head is full of things that few around here
+      understand. They hear him play the violin or read, and some go away
+      calling him a genius, but when he talks to them about the way the
+      railroads are opening up, and the new telegraph this man Morse is at work
+      on, and what is going to come of it&mdash;or hear him discuss the
+      development of the country along scientific lines, they shrug their
+      shoulders and tap their foreheads. You want to talk to him every chance
+      you get. That is one reason I am glad they let you permanently into the
+      club, for he is too busy in his work-shop at home to speak to anybody.
+      Nobody will do you so much good&mdash;and he likes you, Harry. He said to
+      me only the other night when I was dining with him&mdash;the night you
+      were at Mrs. Cheston's&mdash;that he felt sorry for you; that it was not
+      your fault, or the fault of your father&mdash;but that you both had been
+      caught in the ebb-tide of a period.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry laughed: &ldquo;What did he mean by that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll be hanged if I know. You made so good a guess on the Tamerlane, that
+      it's just occurred to me to try you on this,&rdquo; and St. George laughed
+      heartily. (St. George was adrift on the ebb-tide himself did he but know
+      it.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry thought earnestly for a moment, pondering upon what the inventor
+      could have had in his mind. It couldn't have been politics that Mr. Horn
+      meant; nor failure of the crops; nor the way the slaves were treated. None
+      of these things affected him. Indeed none of them did he know anything of.
+      Nor was he an expert on duelling. It must have been Kate. Yes&mdash;of
+      course&mdash;it was Kate and her treatment of him. The &ldquo;tide&rdquo; was what had
+      swept them apart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I know,&rdquo; he cried in an animated tone. &ldquo;He meant Kate. Tell me&mdash;what
+      did he say about her?&rdquo; He had searched his books for some parallel from
+      which to draw a conclusion, but none of them had given him any relief. May
+      be Mr. Horn had solved the problem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He said she was the first of the flood, though he was mighty sorry for
+      you both; and he said, too, that, as she was the first to strike out for
+      the shore, Kennedy Square ought to build a triumphal arch for her,&rdquo; and
+      St. George looked quizzically at Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, do you think there is any common sense in that?&rdquo; blurted out the
+      boy, twisting himself in his chair so he could get a better look at his
+      uncle's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;it doesn't sound like it, but it may be profound wisdom all the
+      same, if you can only see it from Richard's point of view. Try it. There's
+      a heap of brains under his cranium.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry fell to tapping the arm of his chair. Queer reasoning this of Mr.
+      Horn's, he said to himself. He had always thought that he and his father
+      were on the tip-top of any kind of tide, flood or ebb&mdash;and as for
+      Kate, she was the white gull that skimmed its crest!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Harry dropped into deep thought, shifting his legs now and then in
+      his restless, impatient way. If there was any comfort to be gotten out of
+      this new doctrine he wanted to probe it to the bottom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what does he say of Mr. Poe? Does he think he's a drunken lunatic,
+      like some of the men at the club?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he thinks he is one of the greatest literary geniuses the country has
+      yet produced. He has said so for years&mdash;ever since he began to write.
+      Willis first became acquainted with Mr. Poe through a letter Richard gave
+      him, and now that the papers are full of him, and everybody is talking
+      about him, these backbiters like Bowdoin want to get into line and say
+      they always thought so. But Richard has never wavered. Of course Poe loses
+      his balance and topples backward once in a while&mdash;but he's getting
+      over it. That is his mistake and it is unfortunate, but it isn't a crime.
+      I can forgive him anything he does so he keeps to his ideals. If he had
+      had a better bringing up and knew the difference between good rain-water
+      Madeira and bad pump water and worse whiskey he would keep as straight as
+      a church deacon. Too bad he doesn't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; Harry answered at last, rising from his chair and brushing the
+      ashes of his pipe from his clothes&mdash;&ldquo;I don't know anything about Mr.
+      Horn's tides, but he's right about Mr. Poe&mdash;that is, I hope he is.
+      We've both, got a 'Lost Lenore,'&rdquo; and his voice quivered. All Harry's
+      roads ended at Kate's door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And so with these and other talks, heart-burnings, outings, sports, and
+      long tramps in the country, the dogs scampering ahead, the summer days
+      slipped by.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Such were the soft, balmy conditions in and around the Temple Mansion&mdash;conditions
+      bringing only peace and comfort&mdash;(heart-aches were kept in check)&mdash;when
+      one August morning there came so decided a change of weather that
+      everybody began at once to get in out of the wet. The storm had been
+      brewing for some days up Moorlands way, where all Harry's storms started,
+      but up to the present moment there had been no indications in and about
+      Kennedy Square of its near approach, or even of its existence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was quite early in the day when the big drops began to patter down on
+      Todd's highly polished knocker. Breakfast had been served and the mail but
+      half opened&mdash;containing among other missives a letter from Poe
+      acknowledging one from St. George, in which he wrote that he might soon be
+      in Kennedy Square on his way to Richmond&mdash;a piece of news which
+      greatly delighted Harry&mdash;and another from Tom Coston, inviting them
+      both to Wesley for the fall shooting, with a postscript to the effect that
+      Willits was &ldquo;still at the Red Sulphur with the Seymours&rdquo;&mdash;(a piece of
+      news which greatly depressed him)&mdash;when Todd answered a thunderous
+      rat-a-tat and immediately thereafter recrossed the hall and opened the
+      dining-room door just wide enough to thrust in first his scared face&mdash;then
+      his head&mdash;shoulder&mdash;arm&mdash;and last his hand, on the palm of
+      which lay a small, greasy card bearing the inscription:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      John Gadgem, Agent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The darky, evidently, was not in a normal condition, for after a moment's
+      nervous hesitation, his eyes over his shoulder as if fearing he was being
+      followed, he squeezed in the rest of his body, closed the door softly
+      behind him, and said in a hoarse whisper to the room at large:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dat's de same man been here three times yisterday. He asked fust fer
+      Marse Harry, an' when I done tol' him he warn't home&mdash;you was 'sleep
+      upstairs, Marse Harry, but I warn't gwineter 'sturb ye&mdash;he say he
+      come back dis mawnin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, but what does he want?&rdquo; asked Harry, dropping a lump of sugar in
+      his cup. He had been accumstomed to be annoyed by agents of all kinds who
+      wanted to sell him one thing or another&mdash;and so he never allowed any
+      one to get at him unless his business was stated beforehand. He had
+      learned this from his father.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dun'no, sah.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does he look like, Todd?&rdquo; cried St. George, breaking the seal of
+      another letter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wall, he ain't no gemman&mdash;he's jus' a pusson I reckon. I done tol'
+      him you warn't out o' bed yit, but he said he'd wait. I got him shet
+      outside, but I can't fool him no mo'. What'll I do now?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, what do you think he wants, then?&rdquo; Harry burst out impatiently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said Todd&mdash;&ldquo;ef I was to tell ye God's truf', I reckon he
+      wants money. He says he's been to de big house&mdash;way out to de
+      colonel's, and dey th'owed him out&mdash;and now he's gwineter sit down
+      yere till somebody listens to him. It won't do to fool wid him, Marse
+      Harry&mdash;I see dat de fus' time he come. He's a he-one&mdash;and he's
+      got horns on him for sho'. What'll I do?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Both Harry and St. George roared.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why bring him in, of course&mdash;a 'pusson' with horns on him will be
+      worth seeing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A shabby, wizened-faced man; bent-in-the-back, gimlet-eyed, wearing a
+      musty brown coat, soiled black stock, unspeakable linen, and skin-tight
+      trousers held to his rusty shoes by wide straps&mdash;showing not only the
+      knuckles of his knees but the streaked thinness of his upper shanks&mdash;(Cruikshank
+      could have drawn him to the life)&mdash;sidled into the room, mopping his
+      head with a red cotton handkerchief which he took from his hat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My name is GADgem, gentleman&mdash;Mr. John GADgem of GADgem &amp;
+      Combes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am looking for Mr. Harry Rutter, whom I am informed&mdash;I would not
+      say POSitively&mdash;but I am inFORMED is stopping with you, Mr. Temple.
+      You forget me, Mr. Temple, but I do not forget you, sir. That little
+      foreclosure matter of Bucks vs. Temple&mdash;you remember when&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down,&rdquo; said St. George curtly, laying down his knife and fork. &ldquo;Todd,
+      hand Mr. Gadgem a chair.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The gimlet-eyed man&mdash;and it was very active&mdash;waved his hand
+      deprecatingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I don't think that is necessary. I can stand. I preFER to stand. I am
+      acCUStomed to stand&mdash;I have been standing outside this gentleman's
+      father's door now, off and on, for some weeks, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell me what you want?&rdquo; interrupted Harry, curtly. References to
+      Moorlands invariably roused his ire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am coming to that, sir, slowly, but surely. Now that I have found
+      somebody that will listen to me&mdash;that is, if you are Mr. Harry Rutter&mdash;&rdquo;
+       The deferential air with which he said this was admirable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes&mdash;I'm the man,&rdquo; answered Harry in a resigned voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir&mdash;so I supposed. And now I look at you, sir&rdquo;&mdash;here the
+      gimlet was in full twist&mdash;&ldquo;I would make an affidavit to that effect
+      before any notary.&rdquo; He began loosening his coat with his skinny fingers,
+      fumbling in his inside pocket, thrusting deep his hand, as if searching
+      for an elusive insect in the vicinity of his arm-pit, his talk continuing:
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir, before any notary, you are so exactly like your father. Not
+      that I've seen your father, sir, VERY MANY TIMES&rdquo;&mdash;the elusive had
+      evidently escaped, for his hand went deeper. &ldquo;I've only seen him once&mdash;ONCE&mdash;and
+      it was enough. It was not a pleasant visit, sir&mdash;in fact, it was a
+      most UNpleasant visit. I came very near having cause for action&mdash;for
+      assault, really. A very polite colored man was all that prevented it, and&mdash;Ah&mdash;here
+      it is!&rdquo; He had the minute pest now. &ldquo;Permit me to separate the list from
+      the exhibits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At this Gadgem's hand, clutching a bundle of papers, came out with a jerk&mdash;so
+      much of a jerk that St. George, who was about to end the comedy by
+      ordering the man from the room, stopped short in his protest, his
+      curiosity getting the better of him to know what the fellow had found.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There, sir.&rdquo; Here he drew a long slip from the package, held it between
+      his thumb and forefinger, and was about to continue, when St. George burst
+      out with:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look here, Gadgem&mdash;if you have any business with Mr. Rutter you will
+      please state it at once. We have hardly finished breakfast.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I beg, sir, that you will not lose your temper. It is unBUSinesslike to
+      lose one's temper. Gadgem &amp; Combes, sir, NEVER lose their temper. They
+      are men of peace, sir&mdash;ALways men of peace. Mr. Combes sometimes
+      resorts to extreme measures, but NEVER Mr. Gadgem. <i>I</i> am Mr. Gadgem,
+      sir,&rdquo; and he tapped his soiled shirt-front with his soiled finger-nail.
+      &ldquo;PEACE is my watchword, that is why this matter has been placed in my
+      hands. Permit me, sir, to ask you to cast your eye over this.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry, who was getting interested, scanned the long slip and handed it to
+      St. George, who studied it for a moment and returned it to Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will note, I beg of you, sir, the first item.&rdquo; There was a tone of
+      triumph now in Gadgem's voice. &ldquo;One saddle horse sixteen hands high,
+      bought of Hampson &amp; Co. on the&rdquo;&mdash;then he craned his neck so as to
+      see the list over Harry's shoulder&mdash;&ldquo;yes&mdash;on the SECOND of LAST
+      September. Rather overdue, is it not, sir, if I may be permitted to
+      remark?&rdquo; This came with a lift of the eyebrows, as if Harry's oversight
+      had been too naughty for words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But what the devil have I got to do with this?&rdquo; The boy was thoroughly
+      angry now. The lift of Gadgem's eyebrows did it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You rode the horse, sir.&rdquo; This came with a certain air of &ldquo;Oh! I have you
+      now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, and he broke his leg and had to be shot,&rdquo; burst out Harry in a tone
+      that showed how worthless had been the bargain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;EXactly, sir. So your father told me, sir. You don't remember having PAID
+      Mr. Hampson for him beFORE he broke his leg, do you, sir?&rdquo; He had him
+      pinned fast now&mdash;all he had to do was to watch his victim's
+      struggles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me? No, of course not!&rdquo; Harry exploded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;EXactly so, sir&mdash;so your father told me. FORcibly, sir&mdash;and as
+      if he was quite sure of it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again he looked over Harry's shoulder, following the list with his skinny
+      finger. At the same time he lowered his voice&mdash;became even humble.
+      &ldquo;Ah, there it is&mdash;the English racing saddle and the pair of blankets,
+      and the&mdash;might I ask you, sir, whether you have among your papers any
+      receipt for&mdash;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I don't pay these bills&mdash;I never pay any bills.&rdquo; Harry's tone
+      had now reached a higher pitch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;EXactly so, sir&mdash;just what your father said, sir, and with such
+      vehemence that I moved toward the door.&rdquo; Out went the finger again, the
+      insinuating voice keeping up. &ldquo;And then the five hundred dollars from Mr.
+      Slater&mdash;you see, sir, we had all these accounts placed in our hands
+      with the expectation that your father would liquidate at one fell swoop&mdash;these
+      were Mr. Combes's very words, sir: 'ONE FELL SWOOP.'&rdquo; This came with an
+      inward rake of his hand, his fingers grasping an imaginary sickle, Harry's
+      accumulated debts being so many weeds in his way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And didn't he? He always has,&rdquo; demanded the culprit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;EXactly so, sir&mdash;exactly what your father said.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Exactly what?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That he had heretofore always paid them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, take them to him!&rdquo; roared Harry, breaking loose again. &ldquo;I
+      haven't got anything to do with them, and won't.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your father's PREcise words, sir,&rdquo; purred Gadgem. &ldquo;And by the time he had
+      uttered them, sir, I was out of the room. It was here, sir, that the very
+      polite colored man, Alec by name, so I am informed, and of whom I made
+      mention a few moments ago, became of inVALuable assistance&mdash;of very
+      GREAT assistance, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean to tell me that you have seen my father&mdash;handed him these
+      bills, and that he has refused to pay them?&rdquo; Harry roared on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I DO, sir.&rdquo; Gadgem had straightened his withered body now and was boring
+      into Harry's eyes with all his might.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell me just what he said?&rdquo; The boy was still roaring, but the
+      indignant tone was missing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He said&mdash;you will not be offended, sir&mdash;you mean, of course,
+      sir, that you would like me to state exACTly what your father said,
+      proceeding as if I was under oath.&rdquo; It is indescribable how soft and
+      mellifluous his voice had now become.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He said, sir, that he'd be DAMNED if he'd pay another cent for a
+      hot-headed fool who had disgraced his family. He said, sir, that you were
+      of AGE&mdash;and were of age when you contracted these bills. He said,
+      sir, that he had already sent you these accounts two days after he had
+      ordered you from his house. And FInally, sir&mdash;I say, finally, sir,
+      because it appeared to me at the time to be conclusive&mdash;he said, sir,
+      that he would set the dogs on me if I ever crossed his lot again. HENCE,
+      sir, my appearing three times at your door yesterday. HENCE, sir, my
+      breaking in upon you at this unseemly hour in the morning. I am particular
+      myself, sir, about having my morning meal disturbed; cold coffee is never
+      agreeable, gentlemen&mdash;but in this case you must admit that my
+      intrusion is pardonable.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy understood now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come to think of it I have a bundle of papers upstairs tied with a red
+      string which came with my boxes from Moorlands. I threw them in the drawer
+      without opening them.&rdquo; This last remark was addressed to St. George, who
+      had listened at first with a broad smile on his face, which had deepened
+      to one of intense seriousness as the interview continued, and which had
+      now changed to one of ill-concealed rage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Gadgem,&rdquo; gritted St. George between his teeth&mdash;he had risen from
+      the table during the colloquy and was standing with his back to the
+      mantel, the blood up to the roots of his hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Lay the packages of bills with the memoranda on my desk, and I will look
+      them over during the day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Mr. Temple,&rdquo; and his lip curled contemptuously&mdash;he had had that
+      same trick played on him by dozens of men.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not another word, Mr. Gadgem. I said&mdash;I&mdash;would look&mdash;them&mdash;over&mdash;during&mdash;the&mdash;day.
+      You've had some dealings with me and know exactly what kind of a man I am.
+      When I want you I will send for you. If I don't send for you, come here
+      to-morrow morning at ten o'clock and Mr. Rutter will give you his answer.
+      Todd, show Mr. Gadgem out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Mr. Temple&mdash;you forGET that my duty is to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I forget nothing. Todd, show Mr. Gadgem out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the closing of the door behind the agent, St. George turned to Harry.
+      His eyes were snapping fire and his big frame tense with anger. This phase
+      of the affair had not occurred to him&mdash;nothing in which money formed
+      an important part ever did occur to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A cowardly piece of business, Harry, and on a par with everything he has
+      done since you left his house. Talbot must be crazy to act as he does. He
+      can't break you down in any other way, so he insults you before his
+      friends and now throws these in your face&rdquo;&mdash;and he pointed to the
+      package of bills where Gadgem had laid it&mdash;&ldquo;a most extraordinary
+      proceeding. Please hand me that list. Thank you.... Now this third item
+      ... this five hundred dollars&mdash;did you get that money?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and another hundred the next day, which isn't down,&rdquo; rejoined
+      the young man, running his eye over the list.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Borrowed it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, of course&mdash;for Gilbert. He got into a card scrape at the tavern
+      and I helped him out. I told my father all about it and he said I had done
+      just right; that I must always help a friend out in a case like that, and
+      that he'd pay it. All he objected to was my borrowing it of a tradesman
+      instead of my coming to him.&rdquo; It was an age of borrowing and a bootmaker
+      was often better than a banker.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;but why didn't you go to him?&rdquo; He wanted to get at all the
+      facts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There wasn't time. Gilbert had to have the money in an hour, and it was
+      the only place where I could get it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course there wasn't time&mdash;never is when the stakes are running
+      like that.&rdquo; St. George folded up the memorandum. He knew something of
+      Talbot's iron will, but he never supposed that he would lose his sense of
+      what was right and wrong in exercising it. Again he opened the list&mdash;rather
+      hurriedly this time, as if some new phase had struck him&mdash;studied it
+      for a moment, and then asked with an increased interest in his tones:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did Gilbert give you back the money you loaned him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;certainly; about a month afterward.&rdquo; Here at least was an
+      asset.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George's face lighted up. &ldquo;And what did you do with it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Took it to my father and he told me to use it; that he would settle with
+      Mr. Slater when he paid his account;&mdash;when, too, he would thank him
+      for helping me out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when he didn't pay it back and these buzzards learned you had quit
+      your father's house they employed Gadgem to pick your bones.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;it seems so; but, Uncle George, it's due them!&rdquo; exclaimed Harry&mdash;&ldquo;they
+      ought to have their money. I would never have taken a dollar&mdash;or
+      bought a thing if I had not supposed my father would pay for them.&rdquo; There
+      was no question as to the boy's sense of justice&mdash;every intonation
+      showed it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course it's due&mdash;due by you, too&mdash;not your father; that's
+      the worst of it. And if he refuses to assume it&mdash;and he has&mdash;it
+      is still to be paid&mdash;every cent of it. The question is how the devil
+      is it to be paid&mdash;and paid quickly. I can't have you pointed out as a
+      spendthrift and a dodger. No, this has got to be settled at once.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He threw himself into a chair, his mind absorbed in the effort to find
+      some way out of the difficulty. The state of his own bank account
+      precluded all relief in that direction. To borrow a dollar from the
+      Patapsco on any note of hand he could offer was out of the question, the
+      money stringency having become still more acute. Yet help must be had, and
+      at once. Again he unfolded the slip and ran his eyes over the items, his
+      mind in deep thought, then he added in an anxious tone:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you aware, Harry, that this list amounts to several thousand
+      dollars?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;I saw it did. I had no idea it was so much. I never thought
+      anything about it in fact. My father always paid&mdash;paid for anything I
+      wanted.&rdquo; Neither did the young fellow ever concern himself about the
+      supply of water in the old well at Moorlands. His experience had been
+      altogether with the bucket and the gourd: all he had had to do was to dip
+      in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again St. George ruminated. It had been many years since he had been so
+      disturbed about any matter involving money.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And have you any money left, Harry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not much. What I have is in my drawer upstairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I'll lend you the money.&rdquo; This came with a certain spontaneity&mdash;quite
+      as if he had said to a companion who had lost his umbrella&mdash;&ldquo;Take
+      mine!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But have you got it, Uncle George?&rdquo; asked Harry in an anxious tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;not that I know of,&rdquo; he replied simply, but with no weakening of
+      his determination to see the boy through, no matter at what cost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;then&mdash;how will you lend it?&rdquo; laughed Harry. Money crises
+      had not formed part of his troubles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Egad, my boy, I don't know!&mdash;but somehow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He rang the bell and Todd put in his head. &ldquo;Todd, go around outside,&mdash;see
+      if young Mr. Pawson is in his office below us, present my compliments and
+      say that it will give me great pleasure to call upon him regarding a
+      matter of business.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sah&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;And, Todd&mdash;say also that if agreeable to him, I will be there
+      in ten minutes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Punctually at ten o'clock on the following morning the shrivelled body and
+      anxious face of the agent was ushered by Todd into St. George's presence&mdash;Dandy
+      close behind sniffing at his thin knees, convinced that he was a
+      suspicious person. This hour had been fixed by Temple in case he was not
+      sent for earlier, and as no messenger had so far reached the bill
+      collector he was naturally in doubt as to the nature of his reception. He
+      had the same hat in his hand and the same handkerchief&mdash;a weekly, or
+      probably a monthly comfort&mdash;its dingy red color defrauding the
+      laundry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have waited, sir,&rdquo; Gadgem began in an unctuous tone, his eyes on the
+      dog, who had now resumed his place on the hearth rug&mdash;&ldquo;waited
+      IMpatiently, relying upon the word and honor of&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There&mdash;that will do, Gadgem,&rdquo; laughed St. George good-naturedly.
+      Somehow he seemed more than usually happy this morning&mdash;bubbling
+      over, indeed, ever since Todd had brought him a message from the young
+      lawyer in the basement but half an hour before. &ldquo;Keep that sort of talk
+      for those who like it. No, Todd, you needn't bring Mr. Gadgem a chair, for
+      he won't be here long enough to enjoy it. Now listen,&rdquo; and he took the
+      memorandum from his pocket. &ldquo;These bills are correct. Mr. Rutter has had
+      the money and the goods. Take this list which I have signed to my attorney
+      in the office underneath and be prepared to give a receipt in full for
+      each account at twelve o'clock to-morrow. I have arranged to have them
+      paid in full. Good-morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gadgem stared. He did not believe a word about finding the money
+      downstairs. He was accustomed to being put off that way and had already
+      formulated his next tactical move. In fact he was about to name it with
+      some positiveness, recounting the sort of papers which would follow and
+      the celerity of their serving, when he suddenly became aware that St.
+      George's eyes were fixed upon him and instantly stopped breathing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I said good-morning, Mr. Gadgem,&rdquo; repeated St. George sententiously.
+      There was no mistaking his meaning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I heard you, sir,&rdquo; hesitated the collector&mdash;&ldquo;<i>I</i> heard you
+      diSTINCTly, but in cases of this kind there is&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George swung back the door and stood waiting. No man living or dead
+      had ever doubted the word of St. George Wilmot Temple, not even by a tone
+      of the voice, and Gadgem's was certainly suggestive of a well-defined and
+      most offensive doubt. Todd moved up closer; Dandy rose to his feet,
+      thinking he might be of use. The little man looked from one to the other.
+      He might add an action for assault and battery to the claim, but that
+      would delay its collection.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then at TWELVE o'clock, to-morrow, Mr. Temple,&rdquo; he purred blandly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;At twelve o'clock!&rdquo; repeated St. George coldly, wondering which end of
+      the intruder he would grapple when he threw him through the front door and
+      down the front steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I will be here on the stroke of the clock, sir&mdash;on the STROKE,&rdquo; and
+      Gadgem slunk out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For some minutes St. George continued to walk up and down the room,
+      stooping once in a while to caress the setter; dry-washing his hands;
+      tapping his well-cut waistcoat with his shapely fingers, his thumbs in the
+      arm-holes; halting now and then to stretch himself to the full height of
+      his body. He had outwitted the colonel&mdash;taught him a lesson&mdash;let
+      him see that he was not the only &ldquo;hound in the pack,&rdquo; and, best of all, he
+      had saved the boy from annoyance and possibly from disgrace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was still striding up and down the room, when Harry, who had overslept
+      himself as usual, came down to breakfast. Had some friend of his uncle
+      found a gold mine in the back yard&mdash;or, better still, had Todd just
+      discovered a forgotten row of old &ldquo;Brahmin Madeira&rdquo; in some dark corner of
+      his cellar&mdash;St. George could not have been more buoyant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Glad you didn't get up any earlier, you good-for-nothing sleepy-head!&rdquo; he
+      cried in welcoming, joyous tones. &ldquo;You have just missed that ill-smelling
+      buzzard.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What buzzard?&rdquo; asked Harry, glancing over the letters on the mantel in
+      the forlorn hope of finding one from Kate.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Gadgem&mdash;and that is the last you will ever see of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&mdash;has father paid him?&rdquo; he asked in a listless way, squeezing
+      Dandy's nose thrust affectionately into his hand&mdash;his mind still on
+      Kate. Now that Willits was with her, as every one said, she would never
+      write him again. He was a fool to expect it, he thought, and he sighed
+      heavily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course he hasn't paid him&mdash;but I have. That is, a friend of mine
+      has&mdash;or will.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have!&rdquo; cried Harry with a start. He was interested now&mdash;not for
+      himself, but for St. George: no penny of his uncle's should ever go to pay
+      his debts. &ldquo;Where did the money come from?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never you mind where the money came from. You found it for Gilbert&mdash;did
+      he ask you where you got it? Why should you ask me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I won't; but you are mighty good to me, Uncle George, and I am very
+      grateful to you.&rdquo; The relief was not overwhelming, for the burden of the
+      debt had not been heavy. It was only the sting of his father's refusal
+      that had hurt. He had always believed that the financial tangle would be
+      straightened out somehow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&mdash;damn it!&mdash;you are not grateful. You sha'n't be grateful!&rdquo;
+       cried St. George with a boyish laugh, seating himself that he might fill
+      his pipe the better from a saucer of tobacco on the table. &ldquo;If you were
+      grateful it would spoil it all. What you can do, however, is to thank your
+      lucky stars that that greasy red pocket-handkerchief will never be aired
+      in your presence again. And there's another thing you can be thankful for
+      now that you are in a thankful mood, and that is that Mr. Poe will be at
+      Guy's to-morrow, and wants to see me.&rdquo; He had finished filling the pipe
+      bowl, and had struck a match.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The boy's eyes danced. Gadgem, his father, his debts, everything&mdash;was
+      forgotten.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad! How do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here's a letter from him.&rdquo; (Puff-puff.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And can I see him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course you can see him! We will have him to dinner, my boy! Here comes
+      Todd with your coffee. Take my seat so I can talk to you while I smoke.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Although St. George dispensed his hospitality without form or pretence,
+      never referring to his intended functions except in a casual way, the news
+      of so unusual a dinner to so notorious a man as Edgar Allan Poe could not
+      long be kept quiet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While a few habitues occupying the arm-chairs on the sidewalk of the club
+      were disappointed at not being invited,&mdash;although they knew that ten
+      guests had always been St. George's limit,&mdash;others expressed their
+      disapproval of the entire performance with more than a shrug of the
+      shoulders. Captain Warfleld was most outspoken. &ldquo;Temple,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;like
+      his father, is a law unto himself, and always entertains the queerest kind
+      of people; and if he wants to do honor to a man of that stamp, why that,
+      of course, is his business, not mine.&rdquo; At which old Tom Purviance had
+      blurted out&mdash;&ldquo;And a shiftless vagabond too, Warfield, if what I hear
+      is true. Fine subject for St. George to waste his Madeira on!&rdquo; Purviance
+      had never read a dozen lines of anybody's poetry in his life, and looked
+      upon all literary men as no better than play actors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was then that Richard Horn, his eyes flashing, had retorted:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I did not know how kind-hearted you were, Purviance, and how
+      thoughtless you can sometimes be in your criticisms, I might ask you to
+      apologize to both Mr. Poe and myself. Would it surprise you to know that
+      there is no more truth in what you say than there is in the reports of
+      that gentleman's habitual drunkenness? It was but a year ago that I met
+      him at his cousin's house and I shall never forget him. Would it also
+      surprise you to learn that he has the appearance of a man of very great
+      distinction?&mdash;that he was faultlessly attired in a full suit of black
+      and had the finest pair of eyes in his head I have ever looked into? Mr.
+      Poe is not of your world, or of mine&mdash;he is above it. There is too
+      much of this sort of ill-considered judgment abroad in the land. No&mdash;my
+      dear Purviance&mdash;I don't want to be rude and I am sure you will not
+      think I am personal. I am only trying to be just to one of the master
+      spirits of our time so that I won't be humiliated when his real worth
+      becomes a household word.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The women took a different view.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't understand what Mr. Temple is thinking of,&rdquo; said the wife of the
+      archdeacon to Mrs. Cheston. &ldquo;This Mr. Poe is something dreadful&mdash;never
+      sober, I hear. Mr. Temple is invariably polite to everybody, but when he
+      goes out of his way to do honor to a man like this he only makes it harder
+      for those of us who are trying to help our sons and brothers&mdash;&rdquo; to
+      which Mrs. Cheston had replied with a twinkle in her mouse eyes and a toss
+      of her gray head:&mdash;&ldquo;So was Byron, my dear woman&mdash;a very dreadful
+      and most disreputable person, but I can't spare him from my Library, nor
+      should you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      None of these criticisms would have affected St. George had he heard them,
+      and we may be sure no one dared tell him. He was too busy, in fact&mdash;and
+      so was Harry, helping him for that matter&mdash;setting his house in order
+      for the coming function.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That the table itself might be made the more worthy of the great man,
+      orders were given that the big silver loving-cup&mdash;the one presented
+      to his father by no less a person than the Marquis de Castellux himself&mdash;should
+      be brought out to be filled later on with Cloth of Gold roses so placed
+      that their rich color and fragrance would reach both the eyes and the
+      nostrils of his guests, while the rest of the family silver, brightened to
+      a mirror finish by Todd, was either sent down to Aunt Jemima to be ready
+      for the special dishes for which the house was famous, or disposed on the
+      side-board and serving-table for instant use when required. Easy-chairs
+      were next brought from upstairs&mdash;tobacco and pipes, with wax candles,
+      were arranged on teak-wood trays, and an extra dozen or so of bubble-blown
+      glasses banked on a convenient shelf. The banquet room too, for it was
+      late summer, was kept as cool as the season permitted, the green shutters
+      being closed, thus barring out the heat of early September&mdash;and the
+      same precaution was taken in the dressing-room, which was to serve as a
+      receptacle for hats and canes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Todd as usual was his able assistant. All the darky's training came
+      into play when his master was giving a dinner: what Madeira to decant, and
+      what to leave in its jacket of dust, with its waistcoat of a label
+      unlaundered for half a century; the temperature of the claret; the exact
+      angle at which the Burgundy must be tilted and when it was to be opened&mdash;and
+      how&mdash;especially the &ldquo;how&rdquo;&mdash;the disturbing of a single grain of
+      sediment being a capital offence; the final brandies, particularly that
+      old Peach Brandy hidden in Tom Coston's father's cellar during the war of
+      1812, and sent to that gentleman as an especial &ldquo;mark of my appreciation
+      to my dear friend and kinsman, St. George Wilmot Temple,&rdquo; etc., etc.&mdash;all
+      this Todd knew to his finger ends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For with St. George to dine meant something more than the mere satisfying
+      of one's hunger. To dine meant to get your elbows next to your dearest
+      friend&mdash;half a dozen or more of your dearest friends, if possible&mdash;to
+      look into their faces, hear them talk, regale them with the best your
+      purse afforded, and last and best of all to open for them your rarest
+      wines&mdash;wines bred in the open, amid tender, clustering leaves; wines
+      mellowed by a thousand sunbeams; nurtured, cared for, and put tenderly to
+      sleep, only to awake years thereafter to warm the hearts and cheer the
+      souls of those who honored them with their respect and never degraded them
+      with their debauchery.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for the dishes themselves&mdash;here St. George with Jemima's help was
+      pastmaster: dishes sizzling hot; dishes warm, and dishes stone cold. And
+      their several arrivals and departures, accompanied by their several
+      staffs: the soup as an advance guard&mdash;of gumbo or clams&mdash;or both
+      if you chose; then a sheepshead caught off Cobb's Island the day before,
+      just arrived by the day boat, with potatoes that would melt in your mouth&mdash;in
+      gray jackets these; then soft-shell crabs&mdash;big, crisp fellows, with
+      fixed bayonets of legs, and orderlies of cucumber&mdash;the first served
+      on a huge silver platter with the coat-of-arms of the Temples cut in the
+      centre of the rim and the last on an old English cut-glass dish. Then the
+      woodcock and green peas&mdash;and green corn&mdash;their teeth in a broad
+      grin; then an olio of pineapple, and a wonderful Cheshire cheese, just
+      arrived in a late invoice&mdash;and marvellous crackers&mdash;and coffee&mdash;and
+      fruit (cantaloupes and peaches that would make your mouth water), then
+      nuts, and last a few crusts of dry bread! And here everything came to a
+      halt and all the troops were sent back to the barracks&mdash;(Aunt Jemima
+      will do for the barracks).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With this there was to follow a change of base&mdash;a most important
+      change. Everything eatable and drinkable and all the glasses and dishes
+      were to be lifted from the table&mdash;one half at a time&mdash;the cloth
+      rolled back and whisked away and the polished mahogany laid bare; the
+      silver coasters posted in advantageous positions, and in was to rattle the
+      light artillery:&mdash;Black Warrior of 1810&mdash;Port of 1815&mdash;a
+      Royal Brown Sherry that nobody knew anything about, and had no desire to,
+      so fragrant was it. Last of all the notched finger-bowls in which to cool
+      the delicate, pipe-stem glasses; and then, and only then, did the real
+      dinner begin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All this Todd had done dozens and dozens of times before, and all this
+      (with Malachi's assistance&mdash;Richard Horn consenting&mdash;for there
+      was nothing too good for the great poet) would Todd do again on this
+      eventful night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to the guests, this particular feast being given to the most
+      distinguished literary genius the country had yet produced,&mdash;certainly
+      the most talked of&mdash;those who were bidden were, of course, selected
+      with more than usual care: Mr. John P. Kennedy, the widely known author
+      and statesman, and Mr. John H. B. Latrobe, equally noteworthy as
+      counsellor, mathematician, and patron of the fine arts, both of whom had
+      been Poe's friends for years, and who had first recognized his genius;
+      Richard Horn, who never lost an opportunity to praise him, together with
+      Judge Pancoast, Major Clayton, the richest aristocrat about Kennedy Square
+      and whose cellar was famous the county over&mdash;and last, the Honorable
+      Prim. Not because old Seymour possessed any especial fitness one way or
+      the other for a dinner of this kind, but because his presence would afford
+      an underground communication by which Kate could learn how fine and
+      splendid Harry was&mdash;(sly old diplomat St. George!)&mdash;and how well
+      he had appeared at a table about which were seated the best Kennedy Square
+      could produce.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll put you right opposite Mr. Poe, Harry&mdash;so you can study him at
+      your leisure,&rdquo; St. George had said when discussing the placing of the
+      guests, &ldquo;and be sure you look at his hands, they are just like a girl's,
+      they are so soft and white. And his eyes&mdash;you will never forget them.
+      And there is an air about him too&mdash;an air of&mdash;well, a sort of
+      haughty distraction&mdash;something I can't quite explain&mdash;as if he
+      had a contempt for small things&mdash;things that you and I, and your
+      father and all of us about here, believe in. Blood or no blood, he's a
+      gentleman, even if he does come of very plain people;&mdash;and they were
+      players I hear. It seems natural, when you think it over, that Latrobe and
+      Kennedy and Horn should be men of genius, because their blood entitles
+      them to it, but how a man raised as Mr. Poe has been should&mdash;well&mdash;all
+      I can say is that he upsets all our theories.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I think you are wrong, Uncle George, about his birth. I've been
+      looking him up and his grandfather was a general in the Revolution.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I'm glad of it&mdash;and I hope he was a very good general, and
+      very much of a gentleman&mdash;but there is no question of his descendant
+      being a wonder. But that is neither here nor there&mdash;you'll be right
+      opposite and can study him in your own way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. Kennedy arrived first. Although his family name is the same as that
+      which dignifies the scene of these chronicles, none of his ancestors, so
+      far as I know, were responsible for its title. Nor did his own domicile
+      front on its confines. In fact, at this period of his varied and
+      distinguished life, he was seldom seen in Kennedy Square, his duties at
+      Washington occupying all his time, and it was by the merest chance that he
+      could be present.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, St. George!&rdquo; he exclaimed, as he handed his hat to Todd and grasped
+      his host's hand. &ldquo;So very good of you to let me come. How cool and
+      delicious it is in here&mdash;and the superb roses&mdash;Ah yes!&mdash;the
+      old Castellux cup. I remember it perfectly; your father once gave me a sip
+      from its rim when I was a young fellow. And now tell me&mdash;how is our
+      genius? What a master-stroke is his last&mdash;the whole country is
+      ringing with it. How did you get hold of him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very easily. He wrote me he was passing through on his way to Richmond,
+      and you naturally popped into my head as the proper man to sit next him,&rdquo;
+       replied St. George in his hearty manner.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you were on top of him, I suppose, before he got out of bed. Safer,
+      sometimes,&rdquo; and he smiled significantly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, found him at Guy's. Sit here, Kennedy, where the air is cooler.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And quite himself?&rdquo; continued the author, settling himself in a chair
+      that St. George had just drawn out for him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Perhaps a little thinner, and a little worn. It was only when I told him
+      you were coming, that I got a smile out of him. He never forgets you and
+      he never should.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Todd answered the knocker and Major Clayton, Richard Horn, and Mr.
+      Latrobe joined the group. The major, who was rather stout, apologized for
+      his light seersucker coat, due, as he explained, to the heat, although his
+      other garments were above criticism. Richard, however, looked as if he had
+      just stepped out of an old portrait in his dull-blue coat and white silk
+      scarf, St. George's eyes lighting up as he took in the combination&mdash;nothing
+      pleased St. George so much as a well-dressed man, and Richard never
+      disappointed him, while Latrobe, both in his dress and dignified bearing,
+      easily held first place as the most distinguished looking man in the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Honorable Prim now stalked in and shook hands gravely and with much
+      dignity, especially with Mr. Kennedy, whose career as a statesman he had
+      always greatly admired. St. George often said, in speaking of this manner
+      of the Scotchman's, that Prim's precise pomposity was entirely due to the
+      fact that he had swallowed himself and couldn't digest the meal; that if
+      he would once in a while let out a big, hearty laugh it might split his
+      skin wide enough for him to get a natural breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George kept his eyes on Harry when the boy stepped forward and shook
+      Prim by the hand, but he had no need for anxiety. The face of the young
+      prince lighted up and his manner was as gracious as if nothing had ever
+      occurred to mar the harmony between the Seymour clan and himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Everybody had seated themselves now&mdash;Malachi having passed around a
+      course of palm-leaf fans&mdash;Clayton, Latrobe, and Horn at one open
+      window overlooking the tired trees&mdash;it was in the dog days&mdash;Seymour
+      and the judge at the other, while St. George took a position so that he
+      could catch the first glimpse of the famous poet as he crossed the Square&mdash;(it
+      was still light), the dinner hour having arrived and Todd already getting
+      nervous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once more the talk dwelt on the guest of honor&mdash;Mr. Kennedy, who, of
+      all men of his time, could best appreciate Poe's genius, and who, with Mr.
+      Latrobe, had kept it alive, telling for the hundredth time the old story
+      of his first meeting with the poet, turning now and then to Latrobe for
+      confirmation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, some ten or more years ago, wasn't it, Latrobe? We happened to be on
+      the committee for awarding a prize story, and Poe had sent in his
+      'Manuscript in a Bottle' among others. It would have broken your hearts,
+      gentlemen, to have seen him. His black coat was buttoned up close to his
+      chin&mdash;seedy, badly worn&mdash;he himself shabby and down at the
+      heels, but erect and extremely courteous&mdash;a most pitiable object. My
+      servant wasn't going to let him in at first, he looked so much the
+      vagrant.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you know, of course, Kennedy, that he had no shirt on under that
+      coat, don't you?&rdquo; rejoined Latrobe, rising from his seat as he spoke and
+      joining St. George at the window.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you think so?&rdquo; echoed Mr. Kennedy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am positive of it. He came to see me next day and wanted me to let him
+      know whether he had been successful. He said if the committee only knew
+      how much the prize would mean to him they would stretch a point in his
+      favor. I am quite sure I told you about it at the time, St. George,&rdquo; and
+      he laid his hand on his host's shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was no need of stretching it, Latrobe,&rdquo; remarked Richard Horn in
+      his low, incisive voice, his eyes on Kennedy's face, although he was
+      speaking to the counsellor. &ldquo;You and Kennedy did the world a great service
+      at the right moment. Many a man of brains&mdash;one with something new to
+      say&mdash;has gone to the wall and left his fellow men that much poorer
+      because no one helped him into the Pool of Healing at the right moment.&rdquo;
+       (Dear Richard!&mdash;he was already beginning to understand something of
+      this in his own experience.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd's entrance interrupted the talk for a moment. His face was screwed up
+      into knots, both eyes lost in the deepest crease. &ldquo;Fo' Gawd, Marse
+      George,&rdquo; he whispered in his master's ear&mdash;&ldquo;dem woodcock'll be
+      sp'iled if dat gemman don't come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George shook his head: &ldquo;We will wait a few minutes more, Todd. Tell
+      Aunt Jemima what I say.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Clayton, who despite the thinness of his seersucker coat, had kept his
+      palm-leaf fan busy since he had taken his seat, and who had waited until
+      his host's ear was again free, now broke in cheerily:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Same old story of course, St. George. Another genius gone astray. Bad
+      business, this bee of literature, once it gets to buzzing.&rdquo; Then with a
+      quizzical glance at the author: &ldquo;Kennedy is a lamentable example of what
+      it has done for him. He started out as a soldier, dropped into law, and
+      now is trying to break into Congress again&mdash;and all the time writes&mdash;writes&mdash;writes.
+      It has spoiled everything he has tried to do in life&mdash;and it will
+      spoil everything he touches from this on&mdash;and now comes along this
+      man Poe, who&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;No, he doesn't come along,&rdquo; chimed in Pancoast, who so far had
+      kept silence, his palm-leaf fan having done all the talking. &ldquo;I wish he
+      would.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, judge,&rdquo; chuckled Clayton, &ldquo;and that is just my point. Here
+      I say, comes along this man Poe and spoils my dinner. Something, I tell
+      you, has got to be done or I shall collapse. By the way, Kennedy&mdash;didn't
+      you send Poe a suit of clothes once in which to come to your house?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The distinguished statesman, who had been smiling at the major's
+      good-natured badinage, made no reply: that was a matter between the poet
+      and himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And didn't he keep everybody waiting?&rdquo; persisted Clayton, &ldquo;until your man
+      found him and brought him back in your own outfit&mdash;only the shirt was
+      four sizes too big for his bean-pole of a body. Am I right?&rdquo; he laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He has often dined with me, Clayton,&rdquo; replied Kennedy in his most
+      courteous and kindly tone, ignoring the question as well as all allusion
+      to his charity&mdash;&ldquo;and never in all my experience have I ever met a
+      more dazzling conversationalist. Start him on one of his weird tales and
+      let him see that you are interested and in sympathy with him, and you will
+      never forget it. He gave us parts of an unfinished story one night at my
+      house, so tremendous in its power that every one was frozen stiff in his
+      seat.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Clayton cut in, this time to St. George. He was getting horribly
+      hungry, as were the others. It was now twenty minutes past the dinner hour
+      and there were still no signs of Poe, nor had any word come from him. &ldquo;For
+      mercy's sake, St. George, try the suit-of-clothes method&mdash;any suit of
+      clothes&mdash;here&mdash;he can have mine! I'll be twice as comfortable
+      without them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He couldn't get into them,&rdquo; returned St. George with a smile&mdash;&ldquo;nor
+      could he into mine, although he is half our weight; and as for our hats&mdash;they
+      wouldn't get further down on his head than the top of his crown.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I insist on the experiment,&rdquo; bubbled Clayton good-naturedly. &ldquo;Here we
+      are, hungry as wolves and everything being burned up. Try the
+      suit-of-clothes trick&mdash;Kennedy did it&mdash;and it won't take your
+      Todd ten minutes to go to Guy's and bring him back inside of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Those days are over for Poe,&rdquo; Kennedy remarked with a slight frown. The
+      major's continued allusions to a brother writer's poverty, though pure
+      badinage, had begun to jar on the author.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the second time Todd's face was thrust in at the door. It now looked
+      like a martyr's being slowly roasted at the stake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Todd&mdash;serve dinner!&rdquo; called St. George in a tone that showed
+      how great was his disappointment. &ldquo;We won't wait any longer, gentlemen.
+      Geniuses must be allowed some leeway. Something has detained our guest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's got an idea in his head and has stopped in somewhere to write it
+      down,&rdquo; continued Clayton in his habitual good-natured tone: it was the
+      overdone woodcock&mdash;(he had heard Todd's warning)&mdash;that still
+      filled his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I could forgive him for that,&rdquo; exclaimed the judge&mdash;&ldquo;some of his
+      best work, I hear, has been done on the spur of the moment&mdash;and you
+      should forgive him too, Clayton&mdash;unbeliever and iconoclast as you are&mdash;and
+      you WOULD forgive him if you knew as much about new poetry as you do about
+      old port.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Clayton's stout body shook with laughter. &ldquo;My dear Pancoast,&rdquo; he cried,
+      &ldquo;you do not know what you are talking about. No man living or dead should
+      be forgiven who keeps a woodcock on the spit five minutes over time.
+      Forgive him! Why, my dear sir, your poet ought to be drawn and quartered,
+      and what is left of him boiled in oil. Where shall I sit, St. George?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alongside of Latrobe. Kennedy, I shall put you next to Poe's vacant chair&mdash;he
+      knows and loves you best. Seymour, will you and Richard take your places
+      alongside of Pancoast, and Harry, will you please sit opposite Mr.
+      Kennedy?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And so the dinner began.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Whether it was St. George's cheery announcement: &ldquo;Well, gentlemen, I am
+      sorry, but we still have each other, and so we will remember our guest in
+      our hearts even if we cannot have his charming person,&rdquo; or whether it was
+      that the absence of Poe made little difference when a dinner with St.
+      George was in question&mdash;certain it is that before many moments the
+      delinquent poet was for the most part forgotten.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the several dishes passed in review, Malachi in charge of the small
+      arms&mdash;plates, knives, and forks&mdash;and Todd following with the
+      heavier guns&mdash;silver platters and the like&mdash;the talk branched
+      out to more diversified topics: the new omnibuses which had been allowed
+      to run in the town; the serious financial situation, few people having
+      recovered from the effects of the last great panic; the expected reception
+      to Mr. Polk; the new Historical Society, of which every one present was a
+      member except St. George and Harry; the successful experiments which the
+      New York painter, a Mr. Morse, was making in what he was pleased to call
+      Magnetic Telegraphy, and the absurdity of his claim that his invention
+      would soon come into general use&mdash;every one commenting unfavorably
+      except Richard Horn:&mdash;all these shuttlecocks being tossed into
+      mid-air for each battledore to crack, and all these, with infinite tact
+      the better to hide his own and his companions' disappointment over the
+      loss of his honored guest&mdash;did St. George keep on the move.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the shifting of the cloth and the placing of the coasters&mdash;the
+      nuts, crusts of bread, and finger-bowls being within easy reach&mdash;most
+      of this desultory talk ceased. Something more delicate, more human, more
+      captivating than sport, finance, or politics; more satisfying than all the
+      poets who ever lived, filled everybody's mind. Certain Rip Van Winkles of
+      bottles with tattered garments, dust-begrimed faces, and cobwebs in their
+      hair were lifted tenderly from the side-board and awakened to
+      consciousness (some of them hadn't opened their mouths for twenty years,
+      except to have them immediately stopped with a new cork), and placed in
+      the expectant coasters, Todd handling each one with the reverence of a
+      priest serving in a temple. Crusty, pot-bellied old fellows, who hadn't
+      uttered a civil word to anybody since they had been shut up in their
+      youth, now laughed themselves wide open. A squat, lean-necked, jolly
+      little jug without legs&mdash;labelled in ink&mdash;&ldquo;Crab-apple, 1807,&rdquo;
+       spread himself over as much of the mahogany as he could cover, and admired
+      his fat shape upside down in its polish. Diamond-cut decanters&mdash;regular
+      swells these&mdash;with silver chains and medals on their chests&mdash;went
+      swaggering round, boasting of their ancestors; saying &ldquo;Your good health&rdquo;
+       every time any one invited them to have a drop&mdash;or lose one&mdash;while
+      a modest little demijohn&mdash;or rather a semi-demi-little-john&mdash;all
+      in his wicker-basket clothes, with a card sewed on his jacket&mdash;like a
+      lost boy (Peggy Coston of Wesley did the sewing) bearing its name and
+      address&mdash;&ldquo;Old Peach, 1796, Wesley, Eastern Shore,&rdquo; was placed on St.
+      George's right within reach of his hand. &ldquo;It reminds me of the dear woman
+      herself, gentleman, in her homely outside and her warm, loving heart
+      underneath, and I wouldn't change any part of it for the world.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What Madeira is this, St. George?&rdquo; It was the judge who was speaking&mdash;he
+      had not yet raised the thin glass to his lips; the old wine-taster was too
+      absorbed in its rich amber color and in the delicate aroma, which was now
+      reaching his nostrils. Indeed a new&mdash;several new fragrances, were by
+      this time permeating the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It is the same, judge, that I always give you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not your father's Black Warrior?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, the 1810. Don't you recognize it? Not corked, is it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Corked, my dear man! It's a posy of roses. But I thought that was all
+      gone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, there are a few bottles still in my cellar&mdash;some&mdash;How many
+      are there, Todd, of the Black Warrior?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dat's de las' 'cept two, Marse George.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dying in a good cause, judge&mdash;I'll send them to you to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You'll do nothing of the kind, you spendthrift. Give them to Kennedy or
+      Clayton.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, give them to nobody!&rdquo; laughed Kennedy. &ldquo;Keep them where they are and
+      don't let anybody draw either cork until you invite me to dinner again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only two bottles left,&rdquo; cried Latrobe in consternation! &ldquo;Well, what the
+      devil are we going to do when they are gone?&mdash;what's anybody going to
+      do?&rdquo; The &ldquo;we&rdquo; was the key to the situation. The good Madeira of Kennedy
+      Square was for those who honored it, and in that sense&mdash;and that
+      sense only&mdash;was common property.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be frightened, Latrobe,&rdquo; laughed St. George&mdash;&ldquo;I've got a lot
+      of the Blackburn Reserve of 1812 left. Todd, serve that last bottle I
+      brought up this morning&mdash;I put it in that low decanter next to&mdash;Ah,
+      Malachi&mdash;you are nearest. Pass that to Mr. Latrobe, Malachi&mdash;Yes,
+      that's the one. Now tell me how you like it. It is a little pricked, I
+      think, and may be slightly bruised in the handling. I spent half an hour
+      picking out the cork this morning&mdash;but there is no question of its
+      value.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; rejoined Latrobe, moistening his lips with the topaz-colored liquid&mdash;&ldquo;it
+      is a little bruised. I wouldn't have served it&mdash;better lay it aside
+      for a month or two in the decanter. Are all your corks down to that, St.
+      George?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All the 1810 and '12&mdash;dry as powder some of them. I've got one over
+      on the sideboard that I'm afraid to tackle&rdquo;&mdash;here he turned to
+      Clayton: &ldquo;Major, you are the only man I know who can pick out a cork
+      properly. Yes, Todd&mdash;the bottle at the end, next to that Burgundy&mdash;carefully
+      now. Don't shake it, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well&mdash;but why don't YOU draw the cork yourself, St. George?&rdquo;
+       interrupted the major, his eyes on Todd, who was searching for the rarity
+      among the others flanking the sideboard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dare not&mdash;that is, I'm afraid to try. You are the man for a cork
+      like that&mdash;and Todd!&mdash;hand Major Clayton the corkscrew and one
+      of those silver nutpicks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Honorable Prim bent closer. &ldquo;What is it, St. George, some old Port?&rdquo;
+       he asked in a perfunctory way. Rare old wines never interested him. &ldquo;They
+      are an affectation,&rdquo; he used to say.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Seymour&mdash;it's really a bottle of the Peter Remsen 1817 Madeira.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bottle was passed, every eye watching it with the greatest interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, never mind the corkscrew, Todd,&mdash;I'll pick it out,&rdquo; remarked the
+      major, examining the hazardous cork with the care of a watchmaker handling
+      a broken-down chronometer. &ldquo;You're right, St. George&mdash;it's too far
+      gone. Don't watch me, Seymour, or I'll get nervous. You'll hoodoo it&mdash;you
+      Scotchmen are the devil when it comes to anything fit to drink,&rdquo; and he
+      winked at Prim.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How much is there left of it, St. George?&rdquo; asked Latrobe, watching the
+      major manipulate the nutpick.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not a drop outside that bottle.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us pray&mdash;for the cork,&rdquo; sighed Latrobe. &ldquo;Easy&mdash;E-A-SY,
+      major&mdash;think of your responsibility, man!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was out now, the major dusting the opening with one end of his napkin&mdash;his
+      face wreathed in smiles when his nostrils caught the first whiff of its
+      aroma.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By Jupiter!&mdash;gentlemen!&mdash;When I'm being snuffed out I'll at
+      least go like a gentleman if I have a drop of this on my lips. It's a
+      bunch of roses&mdash;a veritable nosegay. Heavens!&mdash;what a bouquet!
+      Some fresh glasses, Todd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Malachi and Todd both stepped forward for the honor of serving it, but the
+      major waved them aside, and rising to his feet began the round of the
+      table, filling each slender pipe-stem glass to the brim.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the talk, which had long since drifted away from general topics,
+      turned to the color and sparkle of some of the more famous wines absorbed
+      these many years by their distinguished votaries. This was followed by the
+      proper filtration and racking both of Ports and Madeiras, and whether milk
+      or egg were best for the purpose&mdash;Kennedy recounting his experience
+      of different vintages both here and abroad, the others joining in, and all
+      with the same intense interest that a group of scientists or collectors
+      would have evinced in discussing some new discovery in chemistry or
+      physics, or the coming to light of some rare volume long since out of
+      print&mdash;everybody, indeed, taking a hand in the discussion except
+      Latrobe, whose mouth was occupied in the slow sipping of his favorite
+      Madeira&mdash;tilting a few drops now and then on the end of his tongue,
+      his eyes devoutly closed that he might the better relish its flavor and
+      aroma.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was all an object lesson to Harry, who had never been to a dinner of
+      older men&mdash;not even at his father's&mdash;and though at first he
+      smiled at what seemed to him a great fuss over nothing, he finally began
+      to take a broader view. Wine, then, was like food or music, or poetry&mdash;or
+      good-fellowship&mdash;something to be enjoyed in its place&mdash;and never
+      out of it. For all that, he had allowed no drop of anything to fall into
+      his own glass&mdash;a determination which Todd understood perfectly, but
+      which he as studiously chose to ignore&mdash;going through all the motions
+      of filling the glass so as not to cause Marse Harry any embarrassment.
+      Even the &ldquo;1817&rdquo; was turned down by the young man with a parrying gesture
+      which caught the alert eyes of the major.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are right, my boy,&rdquo; the bon vivant said sententiously. &ldquo;It is a wine
+      for old men. But look after your stomach, you dog&mdash;or you may wake up
+      some fine morning and not be able to know good Madeira from bad. You young
+      bloods, with your vile concoctions of toddies, punches, and other satanic
+      brews, are fast going to the devil&mdash;your palates, I am speaking of.
+      If you ever saw the inside of a distillery you would never drink another
+      drop of whiskey. There's poison in every thimbleful. There's sunshine in
+      this, sir!&rdquo; and he held the glass to his eyes until the light of the
+      candles flashed through it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I've never seen the inside or outside of a distillery in my life,&rdquo;
+       answered Harry with a laugh, a reply which did not in the least quench the
+      major's enthusiasms, who went on dilating, wine-glass in hand, on the
+      vulgarity of drinking STANDING UP&mdash;the habitual custom of whiskey
+      tipplers&mdash;in contrast with the refinement of sipping wines SITTING
+      DOWN&mdash;one being a vice and the other a virtue.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Richard, too, had been noticing Harry. He had overheard, as the dinner
+      progressed, a remark the boy had made to the guest next him, regarding the
+      peculiar rhythm of Poe's verse&mdash;Harry repeating the closing lines of
+      the poem with such keen appreciation of their meaning that Richard at once
+      joined in the talk, commending him for his insight and discrimination. He
+      had always supposed that Rutter's son, like all the younger bloods of his
+      time, had abandoned his books when he left college and had affected horses
+      and dogs instead. The discovery ended in his scrutinizing Harry's face the
+      closer, reading between the lines&mdash;his father here, his mother there&mdash;until
+      a quick knitting of the brows, and a flash from out the deep-brown eyes,
+      upset all his preconceived opinions; he had expected grit and courage in
+      the boy&mdash;there couldn't help being that when one thought of his
+      father&mdash;but where did the lad get his imagination? Richard wondered&mdash;that
+      which millions could not purchase. &ldquo;A most engaging young man in spite of
+      his madcap life,&rdquo; he said to himself&mdash;&ldquo;I don't wonder St. George
+      loves him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the bell in the old church struck the hour of ten, Harry again turned
+      to Richard and said with a sigh of disappointment:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid it's too late to expect him&mdash;don't you think so?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I fear so,&rdquo; rejoined Richard, who all through the dinner had never
+      ceased to bend his ear to every sound, hoping for the rumble of wheels or
+      the quick step of a man in the hall. &ldquo;Something extraordinary must have
+      happened to him, or he may have been called suddenly to Richmond and taken
+      the steamboat.&rdquo; Then leaning toward his host he called across the table:
+      &ldquo;Might I make a suggestion, St. George?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George paused in his talk with Mr. Kennedy and Latrobe and raised his
+      head:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Richard?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was just saying to young Rutter here, that perhaps Mr. Poe has been
+      called suddenly to Richmond and has sent you a note which has not reached
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or he might be ill,&rdquo; suggested Harry in his anxiety to leave no loophole
+      through which the poet could escape.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Or he might be ill,&rdquo; repeated Richard&mdash;&ldquo;quite true. Now would you
+      mind if I sent Malachi to Guy's to find out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Richard&mdash;but I'll send Todd. We can get along, I expect, with
+      Malachi until he gets back. Todd!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sah.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You go to Guy's and ask Mr. Lampson if Mr. Poe is still in the hotel. If
+      he is not there ask for any letter addressed to me and then come back. If
+      he is in, go up to his room and present my compliments, and say we are
+      waiting dinner for him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd's face lengthened, but he missed no word of his master's
+      instructions. Apart from these his mind was occupied with the number of
+      minutes it would take him to run all the way to Guy's Hotel, mount the
+      steps, deliver his message, and race back again. Malachi, who was nearly
+      twice his age, and who had had twice his experience, might be all right
+      until he reached that old Burgundy, but &ldquo;dere warn't nobody could handle
+      dem corks but Todd; Malachi'd bust 'em sho' and spile 'em 'fo' he could
+      git back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Spose dere ain't no gemman and no letter, den what?&rdquo; he asked as a last
+      resort.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then come straight home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sah,&rdquo; and he backed regretfully from the room and closed the door
+      behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George turned to Horn again: &ldquo;Very good idea, Richard&mdash;wonder I
+      hadn't thought of it before. I should probably had I not expected him
+      every minute. And he was so glad to come. He told me he had never
+      forgotten the dinner at Kennedy's some years ago, and when he heard you
+      would be here as well, his whole face lighted up. I was also greatly
+      struck with the improvement in his appearance, he seemed more a man of the
+      world than when I first knew him&mdash;carried himself better and was more
+      carefully dressed. This morning when I went in he&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door opened silently, and Todd, trembling all over, laid his hand on
+      his master's shoulder, cutting short his dissertation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marse George, please sah, can I speak to you a minute?&rdquo; The boy looked as
+      if he had just seen a ghost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Speak to me! Why haven't you taken my message, Todd?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sah&mdash;dat is&mdash;can't ye step in de hall a minute, Marse
+      George&mdash;now&mdash;right away?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The hall!&mdash;what for?&mdash;is there anything the matter?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George pushed back his chair and followed Todd from the room:
+      something had gone wrong&mdash;something demanding instant attention or
+      Todd wouldn't be scared out of his wits. Those nearest him, who had
+      overheard Todd's whispered words, halted in their talk in the hope of
+      getting some clew to the situation; others, further away, kept on,
+      unconscious that anything unusual had taken place.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Several minutes passed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the door swung wide, and a man deathly pale, erect, faultlessly
+      dressed in a full suit of black, the coat buttoned close to his chin, his
+      cavernous eyes burning like coals of fire, entered on St. George's arm and
+      advanced toward the group.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Every guest was on his feet in an instant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We have him at last!&rdquo; cried St. George in his cheeriest voice. &ldquo;A little
+      late, but doubly welcome. Mr. Poe, gentlemen.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kennedy was the first to extend his hand, Horn crowding close, the others
+      waiting their turn.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Poe straightened his body, focussed his eyes on Kennedy, shook his
+      extended hand gravely, but without the slightest sign of recognition, and
+      repeated the same cold greeting to each guest in the room. He spoke no
+      word&mdash;did not open his lips&mdash;only the mechanical movement of his
+      outstretched hand&mdash;a movement so formal that it stifled all
+      exclamations of praise on the part of the guests, or even of welcome. It
+      was as if he had grasped the hands of strangers beside an open grave.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then the cold, horrible truth flashed upon them:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Edgar Allan Poe was dead drunk!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The silence that followed was appalling&mdash;an expectant silence like
+      that which precedes the explosion of a bomb. Kennedy, who had known him
+      the longest and best, and who knew that if his mind could once be set
+      working he would recover his tongue and wits, having seen him before in a
+      similar crisis, stepped nearer and laid both hands on Poe's shoulders. Get
+      Poe to talking and he would be himself again; let him once be seated, and
+      ten chances to one he would fall asleep at the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, don't sit down, Mr. Poe&mdash;not yet. Give us that great story of
+      yours&mdash;the one you told at my house that night&mdash;we have never
+      forgotten it. Gentlemen, all take your seats&mdash;I promise you one of
+      the great treats of your lives.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Poe stood for an instant undecided, the light of the candles illumining
+      his black hair, pallid face, and haggard features; fixed his eyes on Todd
+      and Malachi, as if trying to account for their presence, and stood
+      wavering, his deep, restless eyes gleaming like slumbering coals flashing
+      points of hot light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Mr. Kennedy's voice rang out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Any one of your stories, Mr. Poe&mdash;we leave it to you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Everybody was seated now, with eyes fixed on the poet. Harry, overcome and
+      still dazed, pressed close to Richard, who, bending forward, had put his
+      elbow on the table, his chin in his hand. Clayton wheeled up a big chair
+      and placed it back some little distance so that he could get a better view
+      of the man. Seymour, Latrobe, and the others canted their seats to face
+      the speaker squarely. All felt that Kennedy's tact had saved the situation
+      and restored the equilibrium. It was the poet now who stood before them&mdash;the
+      man of genius&mdash;the man whose name was known the country through. That
+      he was drunk was only part of the performance. Booth had been drunk when
+      he chased a super from the stage; Webster made his best speeches when he
+      was half-seas-over&mdash;was making them at that very moment. It was so
+      with many other men of genius the world over. If they could hear one of
+      Poe's poems&mdash;or, better still, one of his short stories, like &ldquo;The
+      Black Cat&rdquo; or the &ldquo;Murders in the Rue Morgue&rdquo;&mdash;it would be like
+      hearing Emerson read one of his Essays or Longfellow recite his
+      &ldquo;Hyperion.&rdquo; This in itself would atone for everything. Kennedy was right&mdash;it
+      would be one of the rare treats of their lives.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Poe grasped the back of the chair reserved for him, stood swaying for an
+      instant, passed one hand nervously across his forehead, brushed back a
+      stray lock that had fallen over his eyebrow, loosened the top button of
+      his frock coat, revealing a fresh white scarf tied about his neck, closed
+      his eyes, and in a voice deep, sonorous, choked with tears one moment,
+      ringing clear the next&mdash;word by word&mdash;slowly&mdash;with infinite
+      tenderness and infinite dignity and with the solemnity of a condemned man
+      awaiting death&mdash;repeated the Lord's Prayer to the end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kennedy sat as if paralyzed. Richard Horn, who had lifted up his hands in
+      horror as the opening sentence reached his ears, lowered his head upon his
+      chest as he would in church. There was no blasphemy in this! It was the
+      wail of a lost soul pleading for mercy!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry, cowering in his chair, gazed at Poe in amazement. Then a throb of
+      such sympathy as he had never felt before shook him to his depths. Could
+      that transfigured man praying there, the undried tears still on his lids,
+      be the same who had entered on his uncle's arm but a few moments before?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Poe lifted his head, opened his eyes, walked in a tired, hopeless way
+      toward the mantel and sank into an easy-chair. There he sat with bowed
+      head, his face in his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One by one the men rose to their feet and, with a nod or silent pressure
+      of St. George's palm, moved toward the door. When they spoke to each other
+      it was in whispers: to Todd, who brought their hats and canes; to Harry,
+      whom, unconsciously, they substituted for host; shaking his hand,
+      muttering some word of sympathy for St. George. No&mdash;they would find
+      their way, better not disturb his uncle, etc. They would see him in the
+      morning, etc., and thus the group passed out in a body and left the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Temple himself was profoundly moved. The utter helplessness of the man;
+      his abject and complete surrender to the demon which possessed him&mdash;all
+      this appalled him. He had seen many drunken men in his time&mdash;roysterers
+      and brawlers, most of them&mdash;but never one like Poe. The poet seemed
+      to have lost his identity&mdash;nothing of the man of the world was left&mdash;in
+      speech, thought, or movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When Harry re-entered, his uncle was sitting beside the poet, who had not
+      yet addressed him a word; nor had he again raised his head. Every now and
+      then the sound of an indrawn breath would escape Poe, as if hot tears were
+      choking him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George waved his hand meaningly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell Todd I'll ring for him when I want him, Harry,&rdquo; he whispered, &ldquo;and
+      now do you go to sleep.&rdquo; Then, pointing to the crouching man, &ldquo;He must
+      stay in my bed here to-night; I won't leave him. What a pity! O God! what
+      a pity! Poor fellow&mdash;how sorry I am for him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry was even more affected. Terrified and awestruck, he mounted the
+      stairs to his room, locked his chamber door, and threw himself on his bed,
+      his mother's and Kate's pleadings sounding in his ears, his mind filled
+      with the picture of the poet standing erect with closed eyes, the prayer
+      his mother had taught him falling from his lips. This, then, was what his
+      mother and Kate meant&mdash;this&mdash;the greatest of all calamities&mdash;the
+      overthrow of a MAN.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For the hundredth time he turned his wandering search-light into his own
+      heart. The salient features of his own short career passed in review: the
+      fluttering of the torn card as it fell to the floor; the sharp crack of
+      Willits's pistol; the cold, harsh tones of his father's voice when he
+      ordered him from the house; Kate's dear eyes streaming with tears and her
+      uplifted hands&mdash;their repellent palms turned toward him as she sobbed&mdash;&ldquo;Go
+      away&mdash;my heart is broken!&rdquo; And then the refrain of the poem which of
+      late had haunted him night and day:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+     &ldquo;Disaster following fast and following faster,
+     Till his song one burden bore,&rdquo;
+ </pre>
+    <p>
+      and then the full, rich tones of Poe's voice pleading with his Maker:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Yes:&mdash;Disaster had followed fast and faster. But why had it followed
+      him? What had he done to bring all this misery upon himself? How could he
+      have acted differently? Wherein had he broken any law he had been taught
+      to uphold, and if he had broken it why should he not be forgiven? Why,
+      too, had Kate turned away from him? He had promised her never to drink
+      again; he had kept that promise, and, God helping him, he would always
+      keep it, as would any other man who had seen what he had just seen
+      to-night. Perhaps he had trespassed in the duel, and yet he would fight
+      Willits again were the circumstances the same, and in this view Uncle
+      George upheld him. But suppose he had trespassed&mdash;suppose he had
+      committed a fault&mdash;as his father declared&mdash;why should not Kate
+      forgive him? She had forgiven Willits, who was drunk, and yet she would
+      not forgive him, who had not allowed a drop to pass his lips since he had
+      given her his promise. How could she, who could do no wrong, expect to be
+      forgiven herself when she not only shut her door in his face, but left him
+      without a word or a line? How could his father ask forgiveness of his God
+      when he would not forgive his son? Why were these two different from his
+      mother and his Uncle George, and even old Alec&mdash;who had nothing but
+      sympathy for him? Perhaps his education and training had been at fault.
+      Perhaps, as Richard Horn had said, his standards of living were
+      old-fashioned and quixotic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only when the gray dawn stole in through the small window of his room did
+      the boy fall asleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Not only Kennedy Square, but Moorlands, rang with accounts of the dinner
+      and its consequences. Most of those who were present and who witnessed the
+      distressing spectacle had only words of sympathy for the unfortunate man&mdash;his
+      reverent manner, his contrite tones, and abject humiliation disarming
+      their criticism. They felt that some sudden breaking down of the barriers
+      of his will, either physical or mental, had led to the catastrophe.
+      Richard Horn voiced the sentiments of Poe's sympathizers when, in
+      rehearsing the episode the next afternoon at the club, he had said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;His pitiable condition, gentlemen, was not the result of debauchery. Poe
+      neither spoke nor acted like a drunken man; he spoke and acted like a man
+      whom a devil had overcome. It was pathetic, gentlemen, and it was
+      heart-rending&mdash;really the most pitiful sight I ever remember
+      witnessing. His anguish, his struggle, and his surrender I shall never
+      forget; nor will his God&mdash;for the prayer came straight from his
+      heart.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't agree with you, Horn,&rdquo; interrupted Clayton. &ldquo;Poe was plumb drunk!
+      It is the infernal corn whiskey he drinks that puts the devil in him. It
+      may be he can't get anything else, but it's a damnable concoction all the
+      same. Kennedy has about given him up&mdash;told me so yesterday, and when
+      Kennedy gives a fellow up that's the last of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I'm ashamed of Kennedy,&rdquo; retorted Horn. &ldquo;Any man who can write as
+      Poe does should be forgiven, no matter what he does&mdash;if he be honest.
+      There's nothing so rare as genius in this world, and even if his flame
+      does burn from a vile-smelling wick it's a flame, remember!&mdash;and one
+      that will yet light the ages. If I know anything of the literature of our
+      time Poe will live when these rhymers like Mr. Martin Farquhar Tupper,
+      whom everybody is talking about, will be forgotten. Poe's possessed of a
+      devil, I tell you, who gets the better of him once in a while&mdash;it did
+      the night of St. George's dinner.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very charitable in you, Richard,&rdquo; exclaimed Pancoast, another dissenter&mdash;&ldquo;and
+      perhaps it will be just as well for his family, if he has any, to accept
+      your view&mdash;but, devil or no devil, you must confess, Horn, that it
+      was pretty hard on St. George. If the man has any sense of refinement&mdash;and
+      he must have from the way he writes&mdash;the best way out of it is for
+      him to own up like a man and say that Guy's barkeeper filled him too full
+      of raw whiskey, and that he didn't come to until it was too late&mdash;that
+      he was very sorry, and wouldn't do it again. That's what I would have
+      done, and that's what you, Richard, or any other gentleman, would have
+      done.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Others, who got their information second hand, followed the example of St.
+      George's guests censuring or excusing the poet in accordance with their
+      previous likes or dislikes. The &ldquo;what-did-I-tell-yous&rdquo;&mdash;Bowdoin among
+      them&mdash;and there were several&mdash;broke into roars of laughter when
+      they learned what had happened in the Temple mansion. So did those who had
+      not been invited, and who still felt some resentment at St. George's
+      oversight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Another group; and these were also to be found at the club&mdash;thought
+      only of St. George&mdash;old Murdock, voicing their opinions when he said:
+      &ldquo;Temple laid himself out, so I hear, on that dinner, and some of us know
+      what that means. And a dinner like that, remember, counts with St. George.
+      In the future it will be just as well to draw the line at poets as well as
+      actors.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The Lord of Moorlands had no patience with any of their views. Whether Poe
+      was a drunkard or not did not concern him in the least. What did trouble
+      him was the fact that St. George's cursed independence had made him so far
+      forget himself and his own birth and breeding as to place a chair at his
+      table for a man in every way beneath him. Hospitality of that kind was
+      understandable in men like Kennedy and Latrobe&mdash;one the leading
+      literary light of his State, whose civic duties brought him in contact
+      with all classes&mdash;the other a distinguished man of letters as well as
+      being a poet, artist, and engineer, who naturally touched the sides of
+      many personalities. So, too, might Richard Horn be excused for stretching
+      the point&mdash;he being a scientist whose duty it was to welcome to his
+      home many kinds of people&mdash;this man Morse among them, with his
+      farcical telegraph; a man in the public eye who seemed to be more or less
+      talked about in the press, but of whom he himself knew nothing, but why
+      St. George Temple, who in all probability had never read a line of Poe's
+      or anybody else's poetry in his life, should give this sot a dinner, and
+      why such sane gentlemen as Seymour, Clayton, and Pancoast should consider
+      it an honor to touch elbows with him, was as unaccountable as it was
+      incredible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Furthermore&mdash;and this is what rankled deepest in his heart&mdash;St.
+      George was subjecting his only son, Harry, to corrupting influences, and
+      at a time, too, when the boy needed the uplifting examples of all that was
+      highest in men and manners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you tell me, Alec,&rdquo; he blazed out on hearing the details, &ldquo;that the
+      fellow never appeared until the dinner was all over and then came in
+      roaring drunk?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sah, I ain't yered nothin' 'bout de roarin', but he suttinly was
+      'how-come-ye-so'&mdash;fer dey couldn't git 'im upstairs 'less dey toted
+      him on dere backs. Marse George Temple gin him his own baid an' sot up
+      mos' ob de night, an' dar he stayed fur fo' days till he come to. Dat's
+      what Todd done tol' me, an' I reckon Todd knows.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel was in his den when this conversation took place. He was
+      generally to be found there since the duel. Often his wife, or Alec, or
+      some of his neighbors would surprise him buried in his easy-chair, an
+      unopened book in his hand, his eyes staring straight ahead as if trying to
+      grasp some problem which repeatedly eluded him. After the episode at the
+      club he became more absorbed than ever. It was that episode, indeed, which
+      had vexed him most. Not that St. George's tongue-lashing worried him&mdash;nor
+      did Harry's blank look of amazement linger in his thoughts. St. George, he
+      had to confess to himself as he battled with the questions, was the soul
+      of honor and had not meant to insult him. It was Temple's love for Harry
+      which had incited the quixotic onslaught, for, as he knew, St. George
+      dearly loved the boy, and this in itself wiped all resentment from the
+      autocrat's heart. As to Harry's attitude toward himself, this he continued
+      to reason was only a question of time. That young upstart had not learned
+      his lesson yet&mdash;a harsh lesson, it was true, and one not understood
+      by the world at large&mdash;but then the world was not responsible for his
+      son's bringing up. When the boy had learned it, and was willing to
+      acknowledge the error of his ways, then, perhaps, he might kill the fatted
+      calf&mdash;that is, of course, if the prodigal should return on all fours
+      and with no stilted and untenable ideas about his rights&mdash;ideas that
+      St. George, of course, was instilling into him every chance he got.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      So far, however, he had had to admit to himself that while he had kept
+      steady watch of the line of hills skirting his mental horizon, up to the
+      present moment no young gentleman in a dilapidated suit of clothes,
+      inverted waist measure, and lean legs had shown himself above the sky
+      line. On the contrary, if all reports were true&mdash;and Alec omitted no
+      opportunity to keep him advised of Marse Harry's every movement&mdash;the
+      young Lord of Moorlands was having the time of his life, even if his
+      sweetheart had renounced him and his father forced him into exile. Not
+      only had he found a home and many comforts at Temple's&mdash;being treated
+      as an honored guest alongside of such men as Kennedy and Latrobe,
+      Pancoast, and the others, but now that St. George had publicly declared
+      him to be his heir, these distinctive marks of his approbation were likely
+      to continue. Nor could he interfere, even if he wished to&mdash;which, of
+      course, he did not, and never could so long as he lived.... &ldquo;Damn him!&rdquo;
+       etc., etc. And with this the book would drop from his lap and he begin
+      pacing the floor, his eyes on the carpet, his broad shoulders bent in his
+      anxiety to solve the problem which haunted him night and day:&mdash;how to
+      get Harry back under his roof and not yield a jot or tittle of his pride
+      or will&mdash;or, to be more explicit, now that the mountain would not
+      come to Mahomet, how could Mahomet get over to the mountain?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His friend and nearest neighbor, John Gorsuch, who was also his man of
+      business, opened the way. The financier's clerk had brought him a letter,
+      just in by the afternoon coach, and with a glance at its contents the
+      shrewd old fellow had at once ordered his horse and set out for Moorlands,
+      some two miles distant. Nor did he draw rein or break gallop until he
+      threw the lines to a servant beside the lower step of the colonel's porch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's the Patapsco again! It will close its doors before the week is out!&rdquo;
+       he cried, striding into the library, where the colonel, who had just come
+      in from inspecting a distant field on his estate, sat dusting his
+      riding-boots with his handkerchief.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Going to stop payment! Failed! What the devil do you mean, John?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I mean just what I say! Everything has gone to bally-hack in the city.
+      Here's a letter I have just received from Harding&mdash;he's on the
+      inside, and knows. He thinks there's some crooked business about it; they
+      have been loaning money on all sorts of brick-bats, he says, and the end
+      has come, or will to-morrow. He wanted to post me in time.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel tossed his handkerchief on his writing-table: &ldquo;Who will be
+      hurt?&rdquo; he asked hurriedly, ignoring the reference to the dishonesty of the
+      directors.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&mdash;a lot of people. Temple, I know, keeps his account there. He
+      was short of cash a little while ago, for young Pawson, who has his law
+      office in the basement of his house, offered me a mortgage on his Kennedy
+      Square property, but I hadn't the money at the time and didn't take it. If
+      he got it at last&mdash;and he paid heavily for it if he did&mdash;the way
+      things have been going&mdash;and if he put that money in the Patapsco, it
+      will be a bad blow to him. Harry, I hear, is with him&mdash;so I thought
+      you ought to know.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rutter had given a slight start at the mention of Temple's name among the
+      crippled, and a strange glitter still lingered in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I presume my son is dependent on a beggar,&rdquo; he exclaimed, rising
+      from his seat, stripping off his brown velveteen riding-jacket and hanging
+      it in a closet behind his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it looks that way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gorsuch was watching the colonel closely. He had another purpose in making
+      his breakneck ride. He didn't have a dollar in the Patapsco, and he knew
+      the colonel had not; he, like himself, was too shrewd a man to be bitten
+      twice by the same dog; but he had a large interest in Harry and would
+      leave no stone unturned to bring father and son together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel again threw himself into his chair, stretched out his slender,
+      well-turned legs, crooked one of his russet-leather riding-boots to be
+      sure the spurs were still in place, and said slowly&mdash;rather absently,
+      as if the subject did not greatly interest him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Patapsco failed and St. George a beggar, eh?&mdash;Too bad!&mdash;too
+      bad!&rdquo; Then some disturbing suspicions must have entered his head, for he
+      roused himself, looked at Gorsuch keenly, and asked in a searching tone:
+      &ldquo;And you came over full tilt, John, to tell me this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I thought you might help. St. George needs all the friends he's got if
+      this is true&mdash;and it looks to me as if it was,&rdquo; answered Gorsuch in a
+      casual way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rutter relaxed his gaze and resumed his position. Had his suspicions been
+      correct that Gorsuch's interest in Harry was greater than his interest in
+      the bank's failure, he would have resented it even from John Gorsuch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Disarmed by the cool, unflinching gaze of his man of business, his mind
+      again took up in review all the incidents connected with St. George and
+      his son, and what part each had played in them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That Temple&mdash;good friend as he had always been&mdash;had thwarted him
+      in every attempt to bring about a reconciliation between himself and
+      Harry, had been apparent from the very beginning of the difficulty. Even
+      the affair at the club showed it. This would have ended quite differently&mdash;and
+      he had fully intended it should&mdash;had not St. George, with his cursed
+      officiousness, interfered with his plans. For what he had really proposed
+      to himself to do, on that spring morning when he had rolled up to the club
+      in his coach, was to mount the steps, ignore his son at first, if he
+      should run up against him&mdash;(and he had selected the very hour when he
+      hoped he would run up against him)&mdash;and then, when the boy broke
+      down, as he surely must, to forgive him like a gentleman and a Rutter, and
+      this, too, before everybody. Seymour would see it&mdash;Kate would hear of
+      it, and the honor of the Rutters remain unblemished. Moreover, this would
+      silence once and for all those gabblers who had undertaken to criticise
+      him for what they called his inhumanity in banishing this only son when he
+      was only trying to bring up that child in the way he should go. Matters
+      seemed to be coming his way. The failure of the Patapsco might be his
+      opportunity. St. George would be at his wits' end; Harry would be forced
+      to choose between the sidewalk and Moorlands, and the old life would go on
+      as before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All these thoughts coursed through his mind as he leaned back in his
+      chair, his lips tight set, the jaw firm and determined&mdash;only the lids
+      quivering as he mastered the tears that crept to their edges. Now and
+      then, in his mental absorption, he would absently cross his legs only to
+      straighten them out again, his state of mind an open book to Gorsuch, who
+      had followed the same line of reasoning and who had brought the news
+      himself that he might the better watch its effect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm surprised that Temple should select the Patapsco. It has never got
+      over its last smash of four years ago,&rdquo; Gorsuch at last remarked. He did
+      not intend to let the topic drift away from Harry if he could help it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am not surprised, John. St. George is the best fellow in the world, but
+      he never lets anything work but his heart. When you get at the bottom of
+      it you will find that he's backed up the bank because some poor devil of a
+      teller or clerk, or may be some director, is his friend. That's enough for
+      St. George, and further than that he never goes. He's thrown away two
+      fortunes now&mdash;his grandmother's, which was small but sound&mdash;and
+      his father's, which if he had attended to it would have kept him
+      comfortable all his life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You had some words at the club, I heard,&rdquo; interjected Gorsuch.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he had some words, I had a julep,&rdquo; and the colonel smiled grimly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you are still on good terms, are you not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am, but he isn't. But that is of no consequence. No man in his senses
+      would ever get angry with St. George, no matter what he might say or do.
+      He hasn't a friend in the world who could be so ill bred. And as to
+      calling him out&mdash;you would as soon think of challenging your wife.
+      St. George talks from his heart, never his head. I have loved him for
+      thirty years and know exactly what I am talking about&mdash;and yet let me
+      tell you, Gorsuch, that with all his qualities&mdash;and he is the
+      finest-bred gentleman I know&mdash;he can come closer to being a natural
+      born fool than any man of his years and position in Kennedy Square. This
+      treatment of my son&mdash;whom I am trying to bring up a gentleman&mdash;is
+      one proof of it, and this putting all his eggs into one basket&mdash;and
+      that a rotten basket&mdash;is another.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then&mdash;if that is your feeling about it, colonel, why not go
+      and see him? As I have said, he needs all the friends he's got at a time
+      like this.&rdquo; If he could bring the two men together the boy might come
+      home. Not to be able to wave back to Harry as he dashed past on Spitfire,
+      had been a privation which the whole settlement had felt. &ldquo;That is, of
+      course,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;if St. George Temple would be willing to receive
+      you. He would be&mdash;wouldn't he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know, John&mdash;and I don't care. If I should make up my mind to
+      go&mdash;remember, I said 'IF'&mdash;I'd go whether he liked it or not.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He HAD made up his mind&mdash;had made it up at the precise moment the
+      announcement of the bank's failure and St. George's probable ruin had
+      dropped from Gorsuch's lips&mdash;but none of this must Gorsuch suspect.
+      He would still be the doge and Virginius; he alone must be the judge of
+      when and how and where he would show leniency. Generations of Rutters were
+      behind him&mdash;this boy was in the direct line&mdash;connecting the past
+      with the present&mdash;and on Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands, and on
+      no other, rested the responsibility of keeping the glorious name
+      unsmirched.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd, with one of the dogs at his heels, opened the door for him,
+      smothering a &ldquo;Gor-a-Mighty!&mdash;sumpin's up fo' sho'!&rdquo; when his hand
+      turned the knob. He had heard the clatter of two horses and their sudden
+      pull-up outside, and looking out, had read the situation at a glance. Old
+      Matthew was holding the reins of both mounts at the moment, for the
+      colonel always rode in state. No tying to hitching-posts or tree-boxes, or
+      picking up of a loose negro to watch his restless steed when he had a
+      stable full of thoroughbreds and quarters packed with grooms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Marse Colonel&mdash;yes, sah&mdash;Marse George is inside&mdash;yes,
+      sah&mdash;but Marse Harry's out.&rdquo; He had not asked for Harry, but Todd
+      wanted him to get all the facts in case there was to be another such scene
+      as black John described had taken place at the club on the occasion of the
+      colonel's last visit to the Chesapeake.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then I'll go in unannounced, and you need not wait, Todd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George was in his arm-chair by the mantel looking over one of his
+      heavy ducking-guns when the Lord of Moorlands entered. He was the last man
+      in the world he expected to see, but he did not lose his self-control or
+      show in any way his surprise. He was host, and Rutter was his guest;
+      nothing else counted now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George rose to his feet, laid the gun carefully on the table, and with
+      a cold smile on his face&mdash;one of extreme courtesy&mdash;advanced to
+      greet him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Talbot&mdash;it has been some time since I had this pleasure. Let me
+      draw up a chair for you&mdash;I'll ring for Todd and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, St. George. I prefer to talk to you alone.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd is never an interruption.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He may be to-day. I have something to say to you&mdash;and I don't want
+      either to be interrupted or misunderstood. You and I have known each other
+      too many years to keep up this quarrel; I am getting rather sick of it
+      myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George shrugged his shoulders, placed the gun carefully in the rack by
+      the door, and maintained an attentive attitude. He would either fight or
+      make peace, but he must first learn the conditions. In the meantime he
+      would hold his peace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rutter strode past him to the fireplace, opened his riding-jacket, laid
+      his whip on the mantel, and with his hands deep in his breeches pockets
+      faced the room and his host, who had again taken his place by the table.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The fact is, St. George, I have been greatly disturbed of late by reports
+      which have reached me about my son. He is with you, I presume?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rutter waited for a verbal reply, and receiving none, forged on: &ldquo;Very
+      greatly disturbed; so much so that I have made an especial trip from
+      Moorlands to call upon you and ascertain their truth.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again St. George nodded, the smile&mdash;one of extreme civility now&mdash;still
+      on his face. Then he added, flicking some stray grains of tobacco from his
+      sleeve with his fingers: &ldquo;That was very good of you, Talbot&mdash;but go
+      on&mdash;I'm listening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel's eyes kindled. Temple's perfect repose&mdash;something he had
+      not expected&mdash;was beginning to get on his nerves, He cleared his
+      throat impressively and continued, his voice rising in intensity:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Instead of leading the life of a young man brought up as a gentleman, I
+      hear he is consorting with the lowest class of people here in your house&mdash;people
+      who&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;Are my guests,&rdquo; interrupted St. George calmly&mdash;loosening the
+      buttons of his coat in search of his handkerchief&mdash;there being more
+      tobacco on his clothes than he had supposed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, you have hit it exactly&mdash;your guests&mdash;and that is another
+      thing I have come to tell you, for neither I nor your friends can
+      understand how a man of your breeding should want to surround himself with&mdash;&mdash;Is
+      it necessary that you should understand, Talbot?&rdquo;&mdash;same low, incisive
+      but extremely civil voice, almost monotonous in its cadences. The cambric
+      was in full play now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Of course it is necessary when it affects my own flesh and blood. You
+      know as well as I do that this sot, Poe, is not a fit companion for a boy
+      raised as my Harry has been&mdash;a man picked out of the gutter&mdash;his
+      family a lot of play-actors&mdash;even worse, I hear. A fellow who
+      staggers into your house dead drunk and doesn't sober up for a week! It's
+      scandalous!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again St. George shrugged his shoulders, but one hand was tight shut this
+      time, the steel claws protruding, the handkerchief alone saving their
+      points from pressing into the palms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And is that what you came from Moorlands to tell me, Talbot?&rdquo; remarked
+      St. George casually, adjusting the lapels of his coat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo; retorted Rutter&mdash;he was fast losing what was left of his
+      self-control&mdash;&ldquo;that and some other things! But we will attend to
+      Harry first. You gave that boy shelter when&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please state it correctly, Talbot. We can get on better if you stick to
+      the facts.&rdquo; The words came slowly, but the enunciation was as perfect as
+      if each syllable had been parted with a knife. &ldquo;I didn't give him shelter&mdash;I
+      gave him a home&mdash;one you denied him. But go on&mdash;I prefer to hear
+      you out.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel's eyes blazed. He had never seen St. George like this: it was
+      Temple's hot outbursts that had made him so easy an adversary in their
+      recent disputes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you will please do the same, St. George,&rdquo; he demanded in his most
+      top-lofty tone, ignoring his opponent's denial. &ldquo;You know perfectly well I
+      turned him out of Moorlands because he had disgraced his blood, and yet
+      you&mdash;my life-long friend&mdash;have had the bad taste to interfere
+      and drag him down still lower, so that now, instead of coming to his
+      senses and asking my pardon, he parades himself at the club and at your
+      dinners, putting on the airs of an injured man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George drew himself up to his full height.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Let us change the subject, Talbot, or we will both forget ourselves. If
+      you have anything to say to me that will benefit Harry and settle the
+      difficulty between him and you, I will meet you more than half-way, but I
+      give you fair warning that the apology must come from you. You have&mdash;if
+      you will permit me to say it in my own house&mdash;behaved more like a
+      brute than a father. I told you so the night you turned him out in the
+      rain for me to take care of, and I told you so again at the club when you
+      tried to make a laughing-stock of him before your friends&mdash;and now I
+      tell you so once more! Come!&mdash;let us drop the subject&mdash;what may
+      I offer you to drink?&mdash;you must be rather chilled with your ride in.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rutter was about to flare out a denial when his better judgment got the
+      best of him; some other tactics than the ones he had used must be brought
+      into play. So far he had made but little headway against Temple's
+      astounding coolness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I am to understand, then, that you are going to keep him here?&rdquo; he
+      demanded, ignoring both his host's criticisms and his proffered
+      hospitality.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly am&rdquo;&mdash;he was abreast of him now, his eyes boring into his&mdash;&ldquo;just
+      as long as he wishes to stay, which I hope will be all his life, or until
+      you have learned to be decent to him. And by decency, I mean
+      companionship, and love, and tenderness&mdash;three things which your
+      damned, high-toned notions have always deprived him of!&rdquo; His voice was
+      still under control, although the emphasis was unmistakable.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Rutter made a step forward, his eyes flashing, his teeth set:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have the impertinence, sir, to charge me with&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;&mdash;Yes!&mdash;and it's true and you know it's true!&rdquo;&mdash;the
+      glance, steady as a rifle, had not wavered. &ldquo;No, you needn't work yourself
+      up into a passion&mdash;and as for your lordly, dictatorial airs, I am
+      past the age when they affect me&mdash;keep them for your servants. By
+      God!&mdash;what a farce it all is! Let us talk of something else&mdash;I
+      am tired of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The words cut like a whip, but the Lord of Moorlands had come to get his
+      son, not to fight St. George. Their sting, however, had completely changed
+      his plans. Only the club which Gorsuch had put into his hands would count
+      now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;a damnable farce!&rdquo; he thundered, &ldquo;and one played by a man with
+      beggary staring him straight in the face, and yet to hear you talk one
+      would think you were a Croesus! You mortgaged this house to get ready
+      money, did you not?&rdquo; He was not sure, but this was no time in which to
+      split words.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George turned quickly: &ldquo;Who told you that?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it true?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes! Do you suppose I would let Harry sneak around corners to avoid his
+      creditors?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel gave an involuntary start, the blood mounting to the roots of
+      his hair, and as suddenly paled:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You tell me that&mdash;you dared to&mdash;pay Harry's debts?&rdquo; he
+      stammered in amazement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dared!&rdquo; retorted St. George, lifting his chin contemptuously. &ldquo;Really,
+      Talbot, you amuse me. When you set that dirty hound Gadgem on his trail,
+      what did you expect me to do?&mdash;invite the dog to dinner?&mdash;or
+      have him sleep in the house until I sold furniture enough to get rid of
+      him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel leaned back against the mantel's edge as if for support. All
+      the fight was out of him. Not only was the situation greatly complicated,
+      but he himself was his host's debtor. The seriousness of the whole affair
+      confronted him. For a brief instant he gazed at the floor, his eyes on the
+      hearthrug, &ldquo;Have you any money left, St. George?&rdquo; he asked. His voice was
+      subdued enough now. Had he been his solicitor he could not have been more
+      concerned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, a few thousand,&rdquo; returned St. George. He saw that some unexpected
+      shot had hit the colonel, but he did not know he had fired it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Left over from the mortgage, I suppose?&mdash;less what you paid out for
+      Harry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, left over from the mortgage, less what I paid Gadgem,&rdquo; he bridled.
+      &ldquo;If you have brought any more of Harry's bills hand them out. Why the
+      devil you ask, Talbot, is beyond my ken, but I have no objection to your
+      knowing.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rutter waved his hand impatiently, with a deprecating gesture; such
+      trifles were no longer important.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You bank with the Patapsco, do you not?&rdquo; he asked calmly. &ldquo;Answer me,
+      please, and don't think I'm trying to pry into your affairs. The matter is
+      much more serious than you seem to think.&rdquo; The tone was so sympathetic
+      that St. George looked closer into his antagonist's face, trying to read
+      the cause.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Always with the Patapsco. I have kept my account there for years,&rdquo; he
+      rejoined simply. &ldquo;Why do you want to know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because it has closed its doors&mdash;or will in a few hours. It is
+      bankrupt!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There was no malice in his tone, nor any note of triumph. That St. George
+      had beggared himself to pay his son's debts had wiped that clear. He was
+      simply announcing a fact that caused him the deepest concern.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George's face paled, and for a moment a peculiar choking movement
+      started in his throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Bankrupt!&mdash;the Patapsco! How do you know?&rdquo; He had heard some ugly
+      rumors at the club a few days before, but had dismissed them as part of
+      Harding's croakings.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;John Gorsuch received a letter last night from one of the directors;
+      there is no doubt of its truth. I have suspected its condition for some
+      time, so has Gorsuch. This brought me here. You see now how impossible it
+      is for my son to be any longer a burden on you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George walked slowly across the room and drawing out a chair settled
+      himself to collect his thoughts the better;&mdash;he had remained standing
+      as the better way to terminate the interview should he be compelled to
+      exercise that right. The two announcements had come like successive blows
+      in the face. If the news of the bank's failure was true he was badly, if
+      not hopelessly, crippled&mdash;this, however, would wait, as nothing he
+      might do could prevent the catastrophe. The other&mdash;Harry's being a
+      burden to him&mdash;must be met at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up and caught the colonel's eye scrutinizing his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to Harry's being a burden,&rdquo; St. George said slowly, his lip curling
+      slightly&mdash;&ldquo;that is my affair. As to his remaining here, all I have to
+      say is that if a boy is old enough to be compelled to pay his debts he is
+      old enough to decide where he will live. You have yourself established
+      that rule and it will be carried out to the letter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Rutter's face hardened: &ldquo;But you haven't got a dollar in the world to
+      spare!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That may be, but it doesn't altar the situation; it rather strengthens
+      it.&rdquo; He rose from his chair: &ldquo;I think we are about through now, Talbot,
+      and if you will excuse me I'll go down to the bank and see what is the
+      matter. I will ring for Todd to bring your hat and coat.&rdquo; He did not
+      intend to continue the talk. There had just been uncovered to him a side
+      of Talbot Rutter's nature which had shocked him as much as had the
+      threatened loss of his money. To use his poverty as a club to force him
+      into a position which would be dishonorable was inconceivable in a man as
+      well born as his antagonist, but it was true: he could hardly refrain from
+      telling him so. He had missed, it may be said, seeing another side&mdash;his
+      visitor's sympathy for him in his misfortune. That, unfortunately, he did
+      not see: fate often plays such tricks with us all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel stepped in front of him: his eyes had an ugly look in them&mdash;the
+      note of sympathy was gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;One moment, St. George! How long you are going to keep up this fool game,
+      I don't know; but my son stays here on one condition, and on one condition
+      only, and you might as well understand it now. From this time on I pay his
+      board. Do you for one instant suppose I am going to let you support him,
+      and you a beggar?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George made a lunge toward the speaker as if to strike him. Had Rutter
+      fired point-blank at him he could not have been more astounded. For an
+      instant he stood looking into his face, then whirled suddenly and swung
+      wide the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;May I ask you, Talbot, to leave the room, or shall I? You certainly
+      cannot be in your senses to make me a proposition like that. This thing
+      has got to come to an end, and NOW! I wish you good-morning.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel lifted his hands in a deprecatory way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As you will, St. George.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And without another word the baffled autocrat strode from the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      There was no one at home when Harry returned except Todd, who, having kept
+      his position outside the dining-room door during the heated encounter, had
+      missed nothing of the interview. What had puzzled the darky&mdash;astounded
+      him really&mdash;was that no pistol-shot had followed his master's
+      denouncement and defiance of the Lord of Moorlands. What had puzzled him
+      still more was hearing these same antagonists ten minutes later passing
+      the time o' day, St. George bowing low and the colonel touching his hat as
+      he passed out and down to where Matthew and his horses were waiting.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not surprising, therefore, that Todd's recital to Harry came in a
+      more or less disjointed and disconnected form.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say, Todd,&rdquo; he exclaimed in astonishment, &ldquo;that my father was here!&rdquo;
+       Our young hero was convinced that the visit did not concern himself, as he
+      was no longer an object of interest to any one at home except his mother
+      and Alec.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dat he was, sah, an' b'ilin' mad. Dey bofe was, on'y Marse George lay low
+      an' de colonel purty nigh rid ober de top ob de fence. Fust Marse George
+      sass him an' den de colonel sass him back. Purty soon Marse George say he
+      gwinter speak his min'&mdash;and he call de colonel a brute an' den de
+      colonel riz up an' say Marse George was a beggar and a puttin' on airs
+      when he didn't hab 'nough money to buy hisse'f a 'tater; an' den Marse
+      George r'ared and pitched&mdash;Oh I tell ye he ken be mighty sof' and
+      persimmony when he's tame&mdash;and he's mos' allers dat way&mdash;but
+      when his dander's up, and it suttinly riz to-day, he kin make de fur fly.
+      Dat's de time you wanter git outer de way or you'll git hurted.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who did you say was the beggar?&rdquo; It was all Greek to Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, Marse George was&mdash;he was de one what was gwine hongry. De
+      colonel 'lowed dat de bank was busted an'&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What bank?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why de 'Tapsco&mdash;whar Marse George keep his money. Ain't you see me
+      comin' from dar mos' ebery day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it hasn't failed, has it?&rdquo; He was still wondering what the quarrel
+      was about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wall, I dunno, but I reckon sumpin's de matter, for no sooner did de
+      colonel git on his horse and ride away dan Marse George go git his hat and
+      coat hisse'f and make tracks th'ou' de park by de short cut&mdash;and you
+      know he neber do dat 'cept when he's in a hurry, and den in 'bout a ha'f
+      hour he come back ag'in lookin' like he'd seed de yahoo, only he was mad
+      plump th'ou'; den he hollered for me quick like, and sont me down
+      underneaf yere to Mr. Pawson to know was he in, and he was, and I done
+      tol' him, and he's dar now. He ain't neber done sont me down dar 'cept
+      once sence I been yere, and dat was de day dat Gadgem man come snuffin'
+      roun'. Trouble comin'.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry had now begun to take in the situation. It was evidently a matter of
+      some moment or Pawson would not have been consulted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll go down myself, Todd,&rdquo; he said with sudden resolve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Better lem'me tell him you're yere, Marse Harry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I'll go now,&rdquo; and he turned on his heel and descended the front
+      steps.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the street side of the house, level with the bricks, was a door opening
+      into a low-ceiled, shabbily furnished room, where in the old days General
+      Dorsey Temple, as has been said, shared his toddies with his cronies.
+      There he found St. George seated at a long table piled high with law books
+      and papers&mdash;the top covered with a green baize cloth embroidered with
+      mice holes and decorated with ink stains. Beside him was a thin,
+      light-haired, young man, with a long, flexible neck and abnormally high
+      forehead, over-doming a shrewd but not unkindly face. The two were poring
+      over a collection of papers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The young lawyer rose to his feet, a sickly, deferential smile playing
+      along his straight lips. Young aristocrats of Harry's blood and breeding
+      did not often darken Pawson's door, and he was extremely anxious that his
+      guest should in some way be made aware of his appreciation of that fact.
+      St. George did not move, nor did he take any other notice of the boy's
+      appearance than to fasten his eyes upon him for a moment in recognition of
+      his presence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But Harry could not wait.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd has just told me, Uncle George, that&rdquo;&mdash;he caught the grave
+      expression on Temple's face&mdash;&ldquo;Why!&mdash;Uncle George&mdash;there
+      isn't anything the matter, is there? It isn't true that the&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George raised his head: &ldquo;What isn't true, Harry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That the Patapsco Bank is in trouble?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I don't think so. The bank, so far as I know, is all right; it's the
+      depositors who are in trouble,&rdquo; and one of his quaint smiles lighted up
+      his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Broken!&mdash;failed!&rdquo; cried Harry, still in doubt as to the extent of
+      the catastrophe, but wishing to be sympathetic and proportionably
+      astounded as any well-bred young man should be when his best friend was
+      unhappy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid it is, Harry&mdash;in fact I know it is&mdash;bankrupt in
+      character as well as in balances&mdash;a bad-smelling, nasty mess, to tell
+      you the truth. That's not only my own opinion, but the opinion of every
+      man whom I have seen, and there was quite an angry mob when I reached the
+      teller's window this morning. That is your own opinion also, is it not,
+      Mr. Pawson?&mdash;your legal summing up, I mean.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The young attorney stretched out his spare colorless hands; opened wide
+      his long, double-jointed fingers; pressed their ten little cushions
+      together, and see-sawing the bunch in front of his concave waistcoat,
+      answered in his best professional voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to being bankrupt of funds I should say there was no doubt of that
+      being their condition; as to any criminal intent or practices&mdash;that,
+      of course, gentlemen&rdquo;&mdash;and he shrugged his shoulders in a
+      non-committal, non-actionable way&mdash;&ldquo;is not for me to decide.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you think it will be months, and perhaps years, before the depositors
+      get a penny of their money&mdash;do you not?&rdquo; persisted St. George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Pawson performed the sleight-of-hand trick, and again he was
+      non-committal&mdash;a second shrug alone expressing his views, the
+      performance ending by his pushing a wooden chair in the direction of
+      Harry, who was still on his feet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry settled himself on its edge and fixed his eyes on his uncle. St.
+      George again became absorbed in the several papers, Pawson once more
+      assisting him, the visitor having now been duly provided for.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This raking of ashes in the hope of finding something of value unscorched
+      was not a pleasant task for the young lawyer. He had, years before,
+      conceived the greatest admiration for his landlord and was never tired of
+      telling his associates of how kind and considerate St. George had always
+      been, and of his patience in the earlier days of his lease, Mr. Temple
+      often refusing the rent until he was quite ready to pay it. He took a
+      certain pride, too, in living under the same roof, so to speak, with one
+      universally known as a gentleman of the old school, whose birth,
+      education, and habits made him the standard among his fellows&mdash;a man
+      without pretence or sham, living a simple and wholesome life; with dogs,
+      guns, priceless Madeira and Port, as well as unlimited clothes of various
+      patterns adapted to every conceivable service and function&mdash;to say
+      nothing of his being part of the best society that Kennedy Square could
+      afford.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Even to bow to his distinguished landlord as he was descending his front
+      steps was in itself one of his greatest pleasures. That he might not miss
+      it, he would peer from behind his office shutters until the shapely legs
+      of his patron could be seen between the twisted iron railing. Then
+      appearing suddenly and with assumed surprise, he would lift his hat with
+      so great a flourish that his long, thin arms and body were jerked into
+      semaphore angles, his face meanwhile beaming with ill-concealed delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Should any one of St. George's personal friends accompany him&mdash;men
+      like Kennedy, or General Hardisty, or some well-known man from the Eastern
+      Shore&mdash;one of the Dennises, or Joyneses, or Irvings&mdash;the
+      pleasure was intensified, the incident being of great professional
+      advantage. &ldquo;I have just met old General Hardisty,&rdquo; he would say&mdash;&ldquo;he
+      was at our house,&rdquo; the knowing ones passing a wink around, and the
+      uninitiated having all the greater respect and, therefore, all the greater
+      confidence in that rising young firm of &ldquo;Pawson &amp; Pawson, Attorneys
+      and Counsellors at Law&mdash;Wills drawn and Estates looked after.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      That this rarest of gentlemen, of all men in the world, should be made the
+      victim of a group of schemers who had really tricked him of almost all
+      that was left of his patrimony, and he a member of his own profession, was
+      to Pawson one of the great sorrows of his life. That he himself had
+      unwittingly helped in its culmination made it all the keener. Only a few
+      weeks had passed since that eventful day when St. George had sent Todd
+      down to arrange for an interview, an event which was followed almost
+      immediately by that gentleman in person. He remembered his delight at the
+      honor conferred upon him; he recalled how he had spent the whole of that
+      and the next day in the attempt to negotiate the mortgage on the old home
+      at a reasonable rate of interest; he recalled, too, how he could have
+      lowered the rate had St. George allowed him more time. &ldquo;No, pay it and get
+      rid of them!&rdquo; St. George had said, the &ldquo;them&rdquo; being part of the very
+      accounts over which the two were poring. And his patron had showed the
+      same impatience when it came to placing the money in the bank. Although
+      his own lips were sealed professionally by reason of the interests of
+      another client, he had begged St. George, almost to the verge of
+      interference, not to give it to the Patapsco, until he had been silenced
+      with: &ldquo;Have them put it to my credit, sir. I have known every member of
+      that bank for years.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All these things were, of course, unknown to Harry, the ultimate
+      beneficiary. Who had filled the bucket, and how and why, were unimportant
+      facts to him. That it was full, and ready for his use, brought with it the
+      same sense of pleasure he would have felt on a hot day at Moorlands when
+      he had gone to the old well, drawn up the ice-cold water, and, plunging in
+      the sweet-smelling gourd, had drank to his heart's content.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This was what wells were made for; and so were fathers, and big, generous
+      men like his Uncle George, who had dozens of friends ready to cram money
+      into his pocket for him to hand over to whoever wanted it and without a
+      moment's hesitation&mdash;just as Slater had handed him the money he
+      needed when Gilbert wanted it in a hurry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor could it be expected that Harry, even with the examination of St.
+      George's accounts with the Patapsco and other institutions going on under
+      his very eyes, understood fully just what a bank failure really meant.
+      Half a dozen banks, he remembered, had gone to smash some few years
+      before, sending his father to town one morning at daylight, where he
+      stayed for a week, but no change, so far as he could recall, had happened
+      because of it at Moorlands. Indeed, his father had bought a new coach for
+      his mother the very next week, out of what he had &ldquo;saved from the wreck,&rdquo;
+       so he had told her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was not until the hurried overhauling of a mass of papers beneath his
+      uncle's hand, and the subsequent finding of a certain stray sheet by
+      Pawson, that the boy was aroused to a sense of the gravity of the
+      situation. And even then his interest did not become acute until, the
+      missing document identified, St. George had turned to Pawson and, pointing
+      to an item halfway down the column, had said in a lowered tone, as if
+      fearing to be overheard:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have the receipts, have you not, for everything on this list?&mdash;Slater's
+      account too, and Hampson's?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;They are in the file beside you, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's a comfort, anyhow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And the balance&rdquo;&mdash;here he examined a small book which lay open
+      beside him&mdash;&ldquo;amounting to&rdquo;&mdash;he paused&mdash;&ldquo;is of course locked
+      up in their vaults?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry had craned his head in instant attention. His quickened ears had
+      caught two familiar names. It was Slater who had loaned him the five
+      hundred dollars which he gave to Gilbert, which his father had commended
+      him for borrowing; and it was Hampson who had sold him the wretched horse
+      that had stumbled and broken his leg and had afterwards to be shot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Slater, did you say, Uncle George&mdash;and Hampson? Aren't they my old
+      accounts?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Quite right, Mr. Rutter&mdash;quite right, sir.&rdquo; St. George tried to stop
+      him with a frown, but Pawson's face was turned towards Harry and he failed
+      to get the signal. &ldquo;Quite right, and quite lucky; they were both important
+      items in Mr. Gadgem's list, and both checks passed through the bank and
+      were paid before the smash came.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tones of Pawson's voice, the twisting together of his bony hands in a
+      sort of satisfied contentment, and the weary look on his uncle's face were
+      the opening of so many windows in the boy's brain. At the same instant one
+      of those creepy chills common to a man when some hitherto undiscovered
+      vista of impending disaster widens out before him, started at the base of
+      Harry's spine, crept up his shoulder-blades, shivered along his arms, and
+      lost itself in his benumbed fingers. This was followed by a lump in his
+      throat that nearly strangled him. He left his chair and touched Pawson on
+      the shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Does this mean, Mr. Pawson&mdash;this money being locked up in the bank
+      vaults and not coming out for months&mdash;and may be never&mdash;does it
+      mean that Mr. Temple&mdash;well, that Uncle George&mdash;won't have enough
+      money to live on?&rdquo; There was an anxious, vibrant tone in Harry's voice
+      that aroused St. George to a sense of the boy's share in the calamity and
+      the privations he must suffer because of it. Pawson hesitated and was
+      about to belittle the gravity of the situation when St. George stopped
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;tell him&mdash;tell him everything, I have no secrets from Mr.
+      Rutter. Stop!&mdash;I'll tell him. It means, Harry&rdquo;&mdash;and a brave
+      smile played about his lips&mdash;&ldquo;that we will have to live on hog and
+      hominy, may be, or pretty nigh it&mdash;certainly for a while&mdash;not
+      bad, old fellow, when you get accustomed to it. Aunt Jemima makes very
+      good hominy and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped; the brave smile had faded from his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By Jove!&mdash;that's something I didn't think of!&mdash;What will I do
+      with the dear old woman&mdash;It would break her heart&mdash;and Todd?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here was indeed something on which he had not counted! For him to forego
+      the luxuries that enriched his daily life was easy&mdash;he had often in
+      his hunting trips lived for weeks on sweet potato and a handful of
+      cornmeal, and slept on the bare ground with only a blanket over him, but
+      that his servants should be reduced to similar privations suggested
+      possibilities which appalled him. For the first time since the cruel
+      announcement fell from Rutter's lips the real situation, with all that it
+      meant to his own future and those dependent upon him, stared him in the
+      face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked up and caught Harry's anxious eyes scanning his own. His
+      old-time, unruffled spirit came to his assistance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, son!&rdquo; he cried in his cheeriest voice, springing to his feet&mdash;&ldquo;no,
+      we won't worry. It will all come out right&mdash;we'll buckle down to it
+      together, you and I. Don't take it too much to heart&mdash;we'll get on
+      somehow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      But the boy was not reassured; in fact, he had become more anxious than
+      ever. Not only did the chill continue, but the lump in his throat grew
+      larger every minute.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Uncle George&mdash;you told me you borrowed the money to pay those
+      bills my father sent me. And will you now have to pay that back as well?&rdquo;
+       He did not ask of whom he had borrowed it, nor on what security, nor would
+      either Pawson or his uncle have told him, that being a confidential
+      matter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that depends, Harry; but we won't have to pay it right away, which
+      is one comfort. And then again, I can go back to the law. I have yet to
+      make my maiden speech before a jury, but I can do it. Think of it!&mdash;everybody
+      in tears, the judge mopping his eyes&mdash;court-room breathless. Oh, you
+      just wait until your old uncle gets on his feet before a bench and jury.
+      Come along, old fellow&mdash;let us go up into the house.&rdquo; Then in a
+      serious tone&mdash;his back to Harry&mdash;&ldquo;Pawson, please bring the full
+      accounts with you in the morning, and now let me thank you for your
+      courtesy. You have been extremely civil, sir, and I appreciate it most
+      highly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When they had reached the front walk and were about to climb the
+      immaculate steps, St. George, still determined to divert the boy's
+      thoughts from his own financial straits, said with a laugh:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd told you, of course, about your father paying me a visit this
+      morning, did he not?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes!&mdash;a most extraordinary account. You must have enjoyed it,&rdquo;
+       replied Harry, trying to fall into his uncle's mood, his heart growing
+      heavier every moment. &ldquo;What did he want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      One of St. George's heat-lightning smiles played over his face: &ldquo;He wanted
+      two things. He first wanted you, and then he wanted a receipt for a
+      month's board&mdash;YOUR board, remember! He went away without either.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A new perspective suddenly opened up in Harry's mind; one that had a gleam
+      of sunshine athwart it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Uncle George!&rdquo; he burst out&mdash;&ldquo;don't forget that my father owes
+      you all the money you paid for me! That, of course, will eventually come
+      back to you.&rdquo; This came in a tone of great relief, as if the money was
+      already in his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George's face hardened: &ldquo;None of it will come back to me,&rdquo; he rejoined
+      in a positive tone. &ldquo;He doesn't owe me one single penny and he never will.
+      That money he owes to you. Whatever you may happen to owe me can wait
+      until you are able to pay it. And now while I am talking about it, there
+      is another thing your father owes you, and that is an humble apology, and
+      that he will pay one of these days in tears and agony. You are neither a
+      beggar nor a cringing dog, and you never will be so long as I can help
+      it!&rdquo; He stopped, rested his hand on the boy's shoulder, and with a quiver
+      in his voice added:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Your hand, my son. Short commons after this, may be, but we will make the
+      fight together.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      When the two passed through the front door and stepped into the
+      dining-room they found it filled with gentlemen&mdash;friends who had
+      heard of the crash and who had come either to extend their sympathy or
+      offer their bank accounts. They had heard of the catastrophe at the club
+      and had instantly left their seats and walked across the park in a body.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To one and all St. George gave a warm pressure of the hand and a bright
+      smile. Had he been the master of ceremonies at a state reception he could
+      not have been more self-possessed or more gallant; his troubles were for
+      himself, never for his guests.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All in a lifetime&mdash;but I am not worrying. The Patapsco pulled out
+      once before and it may again. My only regret is that I cannot, at least
+      for a time, have as many of you as I would wish under my mahogany. But
+      don't let us borrow any trouble; certainly not to-day. Todd, get some
+      glasses and bring me that bottle of Madeira&mdash;the one there on the
+      sideboard!&rdquo; Here he took the precious fluid from Todd's hand and holding
+      high the crusted bottle said with a dry smile&mdash;one his friends knew
+      when his irony was aroused: &ldquo;That wine, gentlemen, saw the light at a time
+      when a man locked his money in an iron box to keep outside thieves from
+      stealing it; to-day he locks his money in a bank's vault and locks the
+      thieves in with it. Extraordinary, is it not, how we gentlemen trust each
+      other? Here, Todd, draw the cork!... Slowly.... Now hand me the bottle&mdash;yes&mdash;Clayton,
+      that's the same wine that you and Kennedy liked so much the night we had
+      Mr. Poe with us. It is really about all there is left of my father's Black
+      Warrior of 1810. I thought it was all gone, but Todd found two more the
+      other day, one of which I sent to Kennedy. This is the other. Kennedy
+      writes me he is keeping his until we can drink it together. Is everybody's
+      glass full? Then my old toast if you will permit me: 'Here's to love and
+      laughter, and every true friend of my true friend my own!'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Before the groups had dispersed Harry had the facts in his possession&mdash;principally
+      from Judge Pancoast, who gave him a full account of the bank's collapse,
+      some papers having been handed up to him on the bench that morning. Summed
+      up, his uncle was practically ruined&mdash;and he, Harry, was the cause of
+      it&mdash;the innocent cause, perhaps, but the cause all the same: but for
+      his father's cruelty and his own debts St. George would never have
+      mortgaged his home. That an additional sum&mdash;his uncle's entire
+      deposit&mdash;had been swallowed up in the crash was but part of the same
+      misfortune. Poe's lines were true, then&mdash;never so true as now:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed
+      faster...&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      This, then, was ever after to be his place in life&mdash;to bring misery
+      wherever he went.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He caught up his hat and walked through the park beside the judge, hoping
+      for some further details of his uncle's present plight and future
+      condition, but the only thing his Honor added to what he already knew was
+      his wonderment over the fact that St. George, having no immediate use for
+      the money except to pay his bills, should have raised so large a sum on a
+      mortgage instead of borrowing it from his friends. It was here that
+      Harry's heart gave a bound:&mdash;no one, then, but his uncle, Pawson, and
+      himself knew that he alone was responsible for the catastrophe! That his
+      father should have learned of his share in it did not enter the boy's
+      head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd answered his knock on his return, and in reply to his inquiry
+      informed him that he must not sit up, as &ldquo;Marse George&rdquo; had left word that
+      he would be detained until late at a meeting of the creditors of the bank.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And so the unhappy lad, his supper over, sought his bed and, as had
+      occurred more than once before, spent the earlier hours of the night
+      gazing at the ceiling and wondering what would become of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      With the breaking of the dawn Harry's mind was made up. Before the sun was
+      an hour high he had dressed hurriedly, stolen downstairs so as to wake no
+      one, and closing the front door softly behind him had taken the long path
+      through the park in the direction of the wharves. Once there, he made the
+      rounds of the shipping offices from Light Street wharf to the Falls&mdash;and
+      by the time St. George had finished dressing&mdash;certainly before he was
+      through his coffee&mdash;had entered the name of Henry Rutter on two sets
+      of books&mdash;one for a position as supercargo and the other, should
+      nothing better be open, as common seaman. All he insisted upon was that
+      the ship should sail at once. As to the destination, that was of no
+      consequence, nor did the length of the voyage make any difference. He
+      remembered that his intimate friend, Gilbert, had some months before gone
+      as supercargo to China, his father wanting him to see something of the
+      world; and if a similar position were open he could, of course, give
+      references as to his character&mdash;a question the agent asked him&mdash;but,
+      then, Gilbert had a father to help him. Should no such position be
+      available, he would ship before the mast, or serve as cook or cabin-boy,
+      or even scullion&mdash;but he would not live another day or hour dependent
+      on his dear Uncle George, who had impoverished himself in his behalf.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He selected the sea instead of going into the army as a common soldier
+      because the sea had always appealed to him. He loved its freedom and its
+      dangers. Then again, he was young and strong&mdash;could climb like a cat&mdash;sail
+      a boat&mdash;swim&mdash;Yes!&mdash;the sea was the place! He could get far
+      enough away behind its horizons to hide the struggle he must make to
+      accomplish the one purpose of his life&mdash;the earning of his debt.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Filled with this idea he began to perfect his plans, determining to take
+      no one into his confidence until the day before the ship was ready to
+      sail. He would then send for his mother and Alec&mdash;bring them all down
+      to St. George's house and announce his intention. That was the best and
+      wisest way. As for Kate&mdash;who had now been at home some weeks&mdash;he
+      would pour out his heart to her in a letter. This was better than an
+      interview, which she would doubtless refuse:&mdash;a letter she would be
+      obliged to read and, perhaps, answer. As for his dear Uncle George&mdash;it
+      would be like tearing his heart out to leave him, but this wrench had to
+      be met and it was best to do it quickly and have done with it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When this last thought took possession a sudden faintness crept over him.
+      How could he leave his uncle? What St. George was to him no one but
+      himself knew&mdash;father, friend, comrade, adviser&mdash;standard of men
+      and morals&mdash;all and more was his beloved uncle. No thought of his
+      heart but he had given him, and never once had he been misunderstood. He
+      could put his arm about his uncle's neck as he would about his mother's
+      and not be thought effeminate or childish. And the courtesy and dignity
+      and fairness with which he had been treated; and the respect St. George
+      showed him&mdash;and he only a boy: compelling his older men friends to do
+      the same. Never letting him feel that any foolish act of his young life
+      had been criticised, or that any one had ever thought the less of him
+      because of them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Breakfast over, during which no allusion was made either to what St.
+      George had accomplished at the conference of creditors the night before,
+      or to Harry's early rising&mdash;the boy made his way into the park and
+      took the path he loved. It was autumn, and the mild morning air bespoke an
+      Indian summer day. Passing beneath the lusty magnolias, which flaunted
+      here and there their glossy leaves, he paused under one of the big oaks,
+      whose branches, stripped of most of their foliage, still sheltered a
+      small, vine-covered arbor where he and Kate had often sat&mdash;indeed, it
+      was within its cool shade that he had first told her of his love. Here he
+      settled himself on a small wooden bench outside the retreat and gave his
+      thoughts full rein&mdash;not to repine, nor to revive his troubles, which
+      he meant to put behind him&mdash;but to plan out the letter he was to
+      write Kate. This must be clear and convincing and tell the whole story of
+      his heart. That he might empty it the better he had chosen this place made
+      sacred by her presence. Then again, the park was generally deserted at
+      this hour&mdash;the hour between the passing of the men of business and
+      the coming of the children and nurses&mdash;and he would not be
+      interrupted&mdash;certainly not before this arbor&mdash;one off by itself
+      and away from passers-by.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He seated himself on the bench, his eyes overlooking the park. All the
+      hours he had passed with Kate beneath the wide-spreading trees rose in his
+      mind; the day they had read aloud to each other, her pretty feet tucked
+      under her so that the dreadful ants couldn't touch her dainty stockings;
+      the morning when she was late and he had waited and fumed stretching
+      minutes into hours in his impatience; that summer night when the two had
+      hidden behind the big oak so that he could kiss her good-night and none of
+      the others see.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With these memories stirring, his letter was forgotten, and his head
+      dropped upon his breast, as if the weight of all he had lost was greater
+      than he could bear. Grasping his walking-stick the tighter he began
+      tracing figures in the gravel, his thoughts following each line. Suddenly
+      his ears caught the sound of a quick step&mdash;one he thought strangely
+      familiar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He raised his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate had passed him and had given no sign of her presence!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He sprang from his seat:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kate!&mdash;KATE!&mdash;Are you going to treat me as my father treated
+      me! Don't, please!&mdash;You'll never see me again&mdash;but don't cut me
+      like that: I have never done anything but love you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The girl came to a halt, but she did not turn her head, nor did she
+      answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Please, Kate&mdash;won't you speak to me? It may be the last time I shall
+      ever see you. I am going away from Kennedy Square. I was going to write
+      you a letter; I came out here to think of what I ought to say&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She raised her head and half turned her trembling body so that she could
+      see his face, her eyes reading his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't think you wanted me to speak to you or you would have looked
+      up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't see you until you had passed. Can't we sit down here?&mdash;no
+      one will see us.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She suffered him to take her hand and lead her to the bench. There she
+      sat, her eyes still searching his face&mdash;a wondering, eager look,
+      discovering every moment some old remembered spot&mdash;an eyebrow, or the
+      line at the corner of the mouth, or the round of the cheek&mdash;each and
+      every one bringing back to her the days that were past and gone never to
+      return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are going away?&rdquo; she said at last&mdash;&ldquo;why? Aren't you happy with
+      Uncle George? He would miss you, I am sure.&rdquo; She had let the scarf fall
+      from her shoulders as she spoke, bringing into view the full round of her
+      exquisite throat. He had caught its flash, but he could not trust himself
+      to look the closer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not any more than I shall miss him,&rdquo; he rejoined sadly; &ldquo;but he has lost
+      almost everything he had in the bank failure and I cannot have him support
+      me any longer&mdash;so I am going to sea.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate started forward and laid her hand on his wrist: &ldquo;To sea!&mdash;in a
+      ship! Where?&rdquo; The inquiry came with such suddenness and with so keen a
+      note of pain in her voice that Harry's heart gave a bound. It was not St.
+      George's losses then she was thinking of&mdash;she was thinking of him! He
+      raised his eyes quickly and studied her face the closer; then his heart
+      sank again. No!&mdash;he was wrong&mdash;there was only wonder in her
+      gaze; only her usual curiosity to know every detail of what was going on
+      around her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With a sigh he resumed his bent position, talking to the end of his
+      walking-stick tracing figures in the gravel: &ldquo;I shall go to Rio,
+      probably,&rdquo; he continued in the same despondent tone&mdash;&ldquo;or China.
+      That's why I called after you. I sail day after to-morrow&mdash;Saturday
+      at the latest&mdash;and it may be a good many years before I get back
+      again, and so I didn't want to go, Kate, without telling you that&mdash;that&mdash;I
+      forgive you for everything you have done to me&mdash;and whether you
+      forgive me or not, I have kept my promises to you, and I will always keep
+      them as long as I live.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does dear Uncle George think of it?&rdquo; She too was addressing the end
+      of the stick; gaining time to make up her mind what to do and say. The old
+      wound, of course, could not be opened, but she might save him and herself
+      from fresh ones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He doesn't know I am going; nobody knows but you. I have been a curse to
+      every one who has been kind to me, and I am going now where there will be
+      nobody but strangers about me. To leave Uncle George breaks my heart, but
+      so does it break my heart to leave my precious mother and dear old Alec,
+      who cries all the time and has now taken to his bed, I hear.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She waited, but her name was not added to the list, nor did he raise his
+      head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I deserve it all, I suspect,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;or it wouldn't be sent to me;
+      but it's over now. If I ever come back it will be when I am satisfied with
+      myself; if I never come back, why then my former hard luck has followed me&mdash;that's
+      all. And now may I talk to you, Kate, as I used to do sometimes?&rdquo; He
+      straightened up, threw down his cane, and turned his shoulders so he could
+      look her squarely in the eyes. &ldquo;If I say anything that offends you you can
+      get up and walk away and I won't follow you, nor will I add another word.
+      You may never see me again, and if it is not what I ought to say, you can
+      forget it all when I am gone. Kate!&rdquo;&mdash;he paused, and for a moment it
+      was all he could do to control himself. &ldquo;What I want to tell you first is
+      this&mdash;that I haven't had a happy day or hour since that night on the
+      stairs in my father's house. Whether I was right or wrong I don't know;
+      what followed is what I couldn't help, but that part I don't regret, and
+      if any one should behave to you as Willits did I would do it over again.
+      What I do regret is the pain it has caused you. And now here comes this
+      awful sorrow to Uncle George, and I am the cause of that too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She turned her face quickly, the color leaving her cheeks as if alarmed.
+      Had he been behaving badly again? But he swept it away with his next
+      sentence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You see, my father refused to pay any of the bills I owed and Uncle
+      George paid them for me&mdash;and I can't have that go on a day longer&mdash;certainly
+      not now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate's shoulders relaxed. A sigh of relief spent itself; Harry was still
+      an honest gentleman, whatever else he might have done!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And now comes the worst of it, Kate.&rdquo; His voice sank almost to a whisper,
+      as if even the birds should not hear this part of his confession: &ldquo;Yes&mdash;the
+      worst of it&mdash;that I have had all this to suffer&mdash;all this misery
+      to endure&mdash;all these insults of my father to bear without you!
+      Always, before, we have talked things out together; then you were shut
+      away and I could only look up at your windows and rack my brain wondering
+      where you were and what you were doing. It's all over now&mdash;you love
+      somebody else&mdash;but I shall never love anybody else: I can't! I don't
+      want to! You are the last thing I kiss before I close my eyes; I shut them
+      and kiss only the air&mdash;but it is your lips I feel; and you are the
+      first thing I open them upon when I wake. It will always be so, Kate&mdash;you
+      are my body, my soul, and my life. I shall never have you again, I know,
+      but I shall have your memory, and that is sweeter and more precious to me
+      than all else in the world!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harry!&rdquo; There was a strange cadence in her voice&mdash;not of
+      self-defence&mdash;not of recrimination&mdash;only of overwhelming pity:
+      &ldquo;Don't you think that I too have had my troubles? Do you think it was
+      nothing to me to love you as I did and have&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped, drew in
+      her breath as if to bolster up some inward resolution, and then with a
+      brave lift of the head added: &ldquo;No, I won't go into that&mdash;not to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;tell me all of it&mdash;you can't hurt me more than you have
+      done. But you may be right&mdash;no, we won't talk of that part of it. And
+      now, Kate, I won't ask you to stay any longer; I am glad I saw you&mdash;it
+      was better than writing.&rdquo; He leaned forward: &ldquo;Let me look into your face
+      once more, won't you?&mdash;so I can remember the better.... Yes&mdash;the
+      same dear eyes&mdash;and the hair growing low on the temples, and the
+      beautiful mouth and&mdash;No&mdash;I sha'n't forget&mdash;I never have.&rdquo;
+       He rose from his seat and held out his hand: &ldquo;You'll take it, won't you?&mdash;just
+      once&mdash;Good-by!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had not moved, nor had she grasped his hand; her face was still
+      towards him, her whole frame tense, the tears crowding to the lids.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Sit down, Harry. I can't let you go like this. Tell me something more of
+      where you are going. Why must you go to sea? Can't you support yourself
+      here?&mdash;isn't there something you can get to do? I will see my father
+      and find out if&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you won't.&rdquo; There was a note almost of defiance in his voice&mdash;one
+      she had never heard before. &ldquo;I am through with accepting favors from any
+      living man. Hereafter I stand in my own shoes, independent of everybody.
+      My father is the only person who has a right to give me help, and as he
+      refuses absolutely to do anything more than pay my board, I must fall back
+      on myself. I didn't see these things in this same way when Uncle George
+      paid my debts, or even when he took me into his home as his guest, but I
+      do now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Something gave a little bound in Kate's heart. This manly independence was
+      one of the things she had in the old days hoped was in him. What had come
+      over her former lover, she wondered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And another thing, Kate&rdquo;&mdash;she was listening eagerly&mdash;she could
+      not believe it was Harry who was speaking&mdash;&ldquo;if you were to tell me
+      this moment that you loved me again and would marry me, and I still be as
+      I am to-day&mdash;outlawed by my father and dependent on charity&mdash;I
+      would not do it. I can't live on your money, and I have none of my own.
+      Furthermore, I owe dear Uncle George his money in such a way that I can
+      never pay it back except I earn it, and that I can't do here. To borrow it
+      of somebody else to pay him would be more disgraceful still.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again her heart gave a bound. Her father had followed the opposite course,
+      and she knew for a certainty just what some men thought of him, and she
+      could as easily recall half a dozen younger men who had that very summer
+      been willing to play the same game with herself. Something warm and
+      sympathetic struggled up through her reserve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Would you stay, Harry, if I asked you to?&rdquo; she said in almost a whisper.
+      She had not meant to put the question quite in that way, but somehow it
+      had asked itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He looked at her with his soft brown eyes, the long lashes shading their
+      tender brilliancy. He had guessed nothing of the newly awakened throb in
+      her heart; only his situation stared him in the face, and in this she had
+      no controlling interest; nor could she now that she loved somebody else.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, Kate, it wouldn't alter anything. It would be putting off the day
+      when it would all have to be done over again; and then it would be still
+      worse because of the hopes it had raised.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you really mean, Harry, that you would not stay if I asked you?&rdquo; It
+      was not her heart which was speaking, but the pride of the woman who had
+      always had her own way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly do,&rdquo; he answered emphatically, his voice ringing clear.
+      &ldquo;Every day I lose is just so much taken from a decent, independent life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A sudden revulsion of feeling swept through her. This was the last thing
+      she had expected from Harry. What had come over him that he should deny
+      her anything?&mdash;he who had always obeyed her slightest wish. Then a
+      new thought entered her head&mdash;why should she humble herself to ask
+      any more questions? With a quick movement she gained her feet and stood
+      toying with her dress, arranging the lace scarf about her throat,
+      tightening the wide strings that held her teacup of a bonnet close to her
+      face. She raised her eyes and stole a glance at him. The lips were still
+      firmly set with the resolve that had tightened them, but his eyes were
+      brimming tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As suddenly as her pride had risen did it die out. All the tenderness of
+      her nature welled up. She made one step in his direction. She was about to
+      speak, but he had not moved, nor did his face relax. She saw that nothing
+      could shake his resolve; they were as far apart as if the seas already
+      rolled between them. She held out her hand, and with that same note of
+      infinite pathos which he knew so well when she spoke straight from her
+      heart, said as she laid her fingers in his:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by, and God bless you, Harry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Good-by, Kate,&rdquo; he murmured in barely audible tones. &ldquo;May I&mdash;may I&mdash;kiss
+      you on the forehead, as I always used to do when I left you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She bent her head: he leaned over and touched the spot with his lips as
+      reverently as a sinner kisses the garment of a saint, then, choking down
+      her tears, all her body unstrung, her mind in a whirl, she turned and
+      passed out of the park.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That same afternoon Kate called her father into her little sitting-room at
+      the top of the stairs and shut the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harry Rutter is going to sea as a common sailor on one of the ships
+      leaving here in a couple of days. Can you find out which one?&mdash;it may
+      be one of your own.&rdquo; He was still perfunctory agent of the line.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Young Rutter going to sea!&rdquo;&mdash;the nomenclature of &ldquo;my dear Harry&rdquo; had
+      ended since the colonel had disinherited him. &ldquo;Well&mdash;that is news! I
+      suspect that will be the best place for him; then if he plays any of his
+      pranks there will be somebody around with a cat-o'-nine-tails to take it
+      out of him. Going to sea, is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate looked at him with lowered lids, her lips curling slightly, but she
+      did not defend the culprit. It was only one of what Prim called his
+      &ldquo;jokes:&rdquo; he was the last man in the world to wish any such punishment.
+      Moreover, she knew her father much better than the Honorable Prim knew his
+      daughter, and whenever she had a favor to ask was invariably careful not
+      to let his little tea-kettle boil over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only a short time ago, father, you got a berth as supercargo on one of my
+      grandfather's ships for Mark Gilbert. Can't you do it for Harry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But, Kate, that was quite a different thing. Mark's father came to me and
+      asked it as a special favor.&rdquo; His assumed authority at the shipping office
+      rarely extended to the appointing of officers&mdash;not when the younger
+      partners objected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Harry's father won't come to you, nor will Harry; and it isn't a
+      different thing. It's exactly the same thing so far as you are concerned,
+      and there is a greater reason for Harry, for he is alone in the world and
+      he is not used to hard work of any kind, and it is cruel to make a common
+      sailor of him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I thought Temple was fathering him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So Uncle George has, and would always look after him, but Harry is too
+      brave and manly to live upon him any longer, now that Uncle George has
+      lost most of his money. Will you see Mr. Pendergast, or shall I go down to
+      the office?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Prim mused for a moment. &ldquo;There may not be a vacancy,&rdquo; he ventured, &ldquo;but I
+      will inquire. The Ranger sails on Friday for the River Plate, and I will
+      have Mr. Pendergast come and see me. Supercargoes are of very little use,
+      my dear, unless they have had some business training, and this young man,
+      of course, has had none at all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;This young man, indeed!&rdquo; thought Kate with a sigh, stifling her
+      indignation. &ldquo;Poor Harry!&mdash;no one need treat him any longer with even
+      common courtesy, now that St. George, his last hold, had been swept away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I think on the whole I had better attend to it myself,&rdquo; she added with
+      some impatience. &ldquo;I don't want anything to go wrong about it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I'll see him, Kate; just leave it all to me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had already decided what to do&mdash;or what he would try to do&mdash;when
+      he first heard the boy wanted to leave the country. What troubled him was
+      what the managing partner of the line might think of the proposition. As
+      long as Harry remained at home and within reach any number of things might
+      happen&mdash;even a return of the old love. With the scapegrace half-way
+      around the world some other man might have a chance&mdash;Willits,
+      especially, who had proved himself in every way worthy of his daughter,
+      and who would soon be one of the leading lawyers of the State if he kept
+      on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the closing of the door upon her father, Kate threw herself upon her
+      lounge. One by one the salient features of her interview with Harry passed
+      in review: his pleading for some word of comfort; some note of forgiveness
+      with which to cheer the hours of his exile.&mdash;&ldquo;You are the last thing
+      I kiss before I close my eyes.&rdquo; Then his open defiance of her expressed
+      wishes when they conflicted with his own set purpose of going away and
+      staying away until he made up his mind to return. While the first brought
+      with it a certain contented satisfaction&mdash;something she had expected
+      and was glad of&mdash;the last aroused only indignation and revolt. Her
+      brow tightened, and the determination of the old seadog&mdash;her
+      grandfather Barkeley&mdash;played over her countenance. She no longer,
+      then, filled Harry's life, controlling all his actions; she no longer
+      inspired his hopes. Rather than marry her he would work as a common
+      sailor. Yes&mdash;he had said so, and with his head up and his voice
+      ringing brave and clear. She was proud of him for it&mdash;she had never
+      been so proud of him&mdash;but why no trace of herself in his resolve;
+      except in his allusion to the duel, when he said he would do it again
+      should any one insult her? It was courteous, of course, for him to feel
+      that way, however much she abhorred the system of settling such disputes.
+      But, then, he would do that for any other woman&mdash;would, no doubt, for
+      some woman he had not yet seen. In this he was the son of his father and
+      the same Harry&mdash;but in everything else he was a changed man&mdash;and
+      never more changed than in his attitude toward her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With these thoughts racking her brain she rose from the lounge and began
+      pacing the floor, peering out between the curtains of her room, her eyes
+      wandering over the park as if she could still see him between the
+      branches. Then her mind cleared and the true situation developed itself:&mdash;for
+      months she had hugged to herself the comforting thought that she had only
+      to stretch out her hand and bring him to her feet. He had now looked her
+      full in the face and proclaimed his freedom. It was as if she had caged a
+      bird and found the door open and the prisoner singing in a tree overhead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That same night she sat by her wood fire in her chamber, her old black
+      mammy&mdash;Mammy Henny&mdash;bending close, combing out her marvellous
+      hair. She had been studying the coals, watching the little castles pile
+      and fall; the quick smothering of slowly fading sparks under a blanket of
+      gray ashes, and the wavering, flickering light that died on the curling
+      smoke. She had not spoken for a long time, when the old woman roused her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Whar was you dis mawnin', honey chile? Mister Willits done wait mo'n ha'f
+      a hour, den he say he come back an' fetch his sorrel horse wid him dis
+      arternoon an' take ye ridin'. But he ain't come&mdash;dat is, Ben done
+      tol' me so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, mammy,&rdquo; she answered wearily&mdash;&ldquo;I sent him word not to&mdash;I
+      didn't feel like riding to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Over two years have passed away since that mournful night when Harry with
+      his hand in St. George's, his voice choking, had declared his
+      determination to leave him the next day and seek his fortunes across the
+      seas.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was a cruel blow to Temple, coming as it did on the heels of his own
+      disaster, but when the first shock had passed he could but admire the lad
+      for his pluck and love him the better for his independence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, my son,&rdquo; he had said, concealing as best he could his intense
+      suffering over the loss of his companion. &ldquo;I'll try and get along. But
+      remember I am here&mdash;and the door is always open. I don't blame you&mdash;I
+      would do the same thing were I in your place. And now about Kate&mdash;what
+      shall I say to her?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing. I said it all this morning. She doesn't love me any more&mdash;she
+      would have passed me by without speaking had I not called to her. She'll
+      be married to Willits before I come back&mdash;if I ever do come back. But
+      leaving Kate is easier than leaving you. You have stuck to me all the way
+      through, and Kate&mdash;well&mdash;perhaps she hasn't understood&mdash;perhaps
+      her father has been talking to her&mdash;I don't know. Anyhow, it's all
+      over. If I had had any doubts about it before, this morning's talk settled
+      it. The sea is the best place for me. I can support myself anyway for a
+      while until I can help you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Yes! the boy was right, St. George had said to himself. It was all over
+      between them. Kate's reason had triumphed at last. She, perhaps, was not
+      to blame. Her experiences had been trying and she was still confronted by
+      influences bitterly opposed to Harry, and largely in favor of Willits,
+      for, weak specimen as Prim was, he was still her father, and in so
+      important a step as her marriage, must naturally exercise authority. As
+      for his own influence, that, he realized, had come to an end at their last
+      interview: the whole thing, he must admit, was disappointing&mdash;cruelly
+      so&mdash;the keenest disappointment of his life.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Many a night since he bid Harry good-by had he sat alone by that same
+      fire, his dogs his only companions, the boy's words ringing in his ears:
+      &ldquo;Leaving Kate is easier than leaving you!&rdquo; Had it been the other way and
+      he the exile, it would have been nearer the truth, he often thought, for
+      nothing in his whole life had left so great a void in his heart as the
+      loss of the boy he loved. Not that he was ever completely disheartened;
+      that was not his nature; there was always daylight ahead&mdash;the day
+      when Harry would come back and their old life begin again. With this in
+      store for him he had led his life as best he could, visiting his friends
+      in the country, entertaining in a simple, inexpensive way, hunting at
+      Wesley, where he and Peggy Coston would exchange confidences and funny
+      stories; dining out; fishing in the early spring; getting poorer and
+      poorer in pocket, and yet never complaining, his philosophy being that it
+      would be brighter in the morning, and it always was&mdash;to him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet if the truth be told his own situation had not improved&mdash;in
+      fact, it had grown steadily worse. Only one payment of interest had been
+      made on the mortgage and the owner was already threatening foreclosure
+      proceedings. Pawson's intervention alone had staved off the fatal climax
+      by promising the holder to keep the loan alive by the collection of some
+      old debts&mdash;borrowed money and the like&mdash;due St. George for years
+      and which his good nature had allowed to run on indefinitely until some of
+      them were practically outlawed. Indeed it was only through resources like
+      this, in all of which Pawson helped, and with the collecting of some small
+      ground rents, that kept Todd and Jemima in their places and the larder
+      comfortably filled. As to the bank&mdash;there was still hope that some
+      small percentage would be paid the depositors, it being the general
+      opinion that the directors were personally liable because of the
+      irregularities which the smash had uncovered&mdash;but this would take
+      months, if not years, to work out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His greatest comfort was in the wanderer's letters. These he would watch
+      for with the eagerness of a girl hungry for news of her distant lover. For
+      the first few months these came by every possible mail, most of them
+      directed to himself; others to his mother, Mrs. Rutter driving in from
+      Moorlands to compare notes with St. George. Then, as the boy made his way
+      further into the interior the intervals were greater&mdash;sometimes a
+      month passed without news of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are short-handed,&rdquo; he wrote St. George, &ldquo;owing to fever on the voyage
+      out on the Ranger, and though I am supercargo and sit at the captain's
+      table, I have to turn to and work like any of the others&mdash;fine
+      exercise, but my hands are cracked and blistered and full of tar. I'll
+      have to wear gloves the next time I dine with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Not a word of this to his mother&mdash;no such hardships for her tender
+      ears:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tell me about Kate, mother&rdquo;&mdash;this from Rio&mdash;&ldquo;how she looks;
+      what she says; does she ever mention my name? My love to Alec. Is Matthew
+      still caring for Spitfire, or has my father sold her?&rdquo; Then followed the
+      line: &ldquo;Give my father my respectful regards; I would send my love, but he
+      no longer cares for it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The dear lady did not deliver the message. Indeed Harry's departure had so
+      widened the breach between the colonel and herself that they practically
+      occupied different parts of the house as far removed from each other as
+      possible. She had denounced him first to his face for the boy's
+      self-imposed exile, and again behind his back to her intimates. Nor did
+      her resolve waver even when the colonel was thrown from his horse and so
+      badly hurt that his eyesight was greatly impaired. &ldquo;It is a judgment on
+      you,&rdquo; she had said, drawing her frail body up to its full height. &ldquo;You
+      will now learn what other people suffer,&rdquo; and would have kept on upstairs
+      to her own room had not her heart softened at his helplessness&mdash;a new
+      role for the colonel.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had made no answer at the time: he never answered her back. She was too
+      frail to be angry with, and then she was right about his being the cause
+      of her suffering&mdash;the first cause of it, at least. He had not yet
+      arrived at the point where he censured himself for all that had happened.
+      In fact since Harry's sudden exit, made without a word to anybody at
+      Moorlands except his mother and Alec, who went to town on a hurry message,&mdash;a
+      slight which cut him to the quick&mdash;he had steadily laid the blame on
+      everybody else connected with the affair;&mdash;generally on St. George
+      for his interference in his peace-making programme at the club and his
+      refusal, when ruined financially, to send the boy back to him in an humble
+      and contrite spirit. Neither had he recovered from the wrath he had felt
+      when, having sent John Gorsuch to ascertain from St. George the amount of
+      money he had paid out for his son, Temple had politely sent Gorsuch, in
+      charge of Todd, downstairs to Pawson, who in turn, after listening to
+      Todd's whispered message, had with equal politeness shown Gorsuch the
+      door, the colonel's signed check&mdash;the amount unfilled&mdash;still in
+      Gorsuch's pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was only when the Lord of Moorlands went into town to spend an hour or
+      so with Kate&mdash;and he was a frequent visitor prior to his accident&mdash;that
+      his old manner returned. He loved the girl dearly and was never tired of
+      talking to her. She was the only woman who would listen when he poured out
+      his heart.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And Kate always welcomed him gladly. She liked strong, decided men even if
+      they sometimes erred in their conclusions. Her grandfather, old Captain
+      Barkeley, had had the same masterfulness. He had been in absolute command
+      in his earlier years, and he had kept in command all his life. His word
+      was law, and he was generally right. She was twelve years old when he
+      died, and had, therefore, ample opportunity to know. It was her
+      grandfather's strong personality, in fact, which had given her so clear an
+      idea of her father's many weaknesses. Rutter, she felt, was a combination
+      of both Barkeley and Prim&mdash;forceful and yet warped by prejudices;
+      dominating yet intolerant; able to do big things and contented with little
+      ones. It was forcefulness, despite his many shortcomings, which most
+      appealed to her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Moreover, she saw much of Harry in him. It was that which made her so
+      willing to listen&mdash;she continually comparing the father to the son.
+      These comparisons were invariably made in a circle, beginning at Rutter's
+      brown eyes, taking in his features and peculiarities&mdash;many of them
+      reproduced in his son's&mdash;such as the firm set of the lips and the
+      square line of the chin&mdash;and ending, quite naturally, with the brown
+      orbs again. While Harry's matched the color and shape, and often the
+      fierce glare of the father's, they could also, she said to herself, shine
+      with the soft light of the mother's. It was from the mother's side, then,
+      that there came the willingness to yield to whatever tempted him&mdash;it
+      may be to drink&mdash;to a false sense of honor&mdash;to herself: Harry
+      being her slave instead of her master. And the other men around her&mdash;so
+      far as yielding was concerned (here her brow would tighten and her lips
+      straighten)&mdash;were no better. Even Uncle George must take her own &ldquo;No&rdquo;
+       for an answer and believe it when she meant quite a different thing. And
+      once more would her soul break out in revolt over the web in which she had
+      become entangled, and once more would she cry herself to sleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nobody but her old black mammy knew how tragic had been her sufferings,
+      how many bitter hours she had passed, nor how many bitter tears she had
+      shed. Yet even old Henny could not comfort her, nor was there any one else
+      to whom the girl could pour out her heart. She had, it is true, kept up
+      her intimacy with her Uncle George&mdash;hardly a week passed that she was
+      not a visitor at his house or he at hers&mdash;but they had long since
+      refrained from discussing Harry. Not because he did not want to talk about
+      him, but because she would not let him&mdash;Of course not!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To Richard Horn, however, strange to say, she often turned&mdash;not so
+      much for confidences as for a broader understanding of life. The
+      thoughtful inventor was not so hedged about by social restrictions, and
+      would break out in spontaneous admiration of Harry, saying with a decisive
+      nod of his head, &ldquo;A fine, splendid young fellow, my dear Kate; I
+      recognized it first at St. George's dinner to Mr. Poe, and if I may say
+      so, a much-abused young man whose only sin is that he, like many another
+      about us, has been born under a waning star in a sky full of murky clouds;
+      one that the fresh breeze of a new civilization will some day clear away&rdquo;&mdash;a
+      deduction which Kate could not quite grasp, but which comforted her
+      greatly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It delighted her, too, to hear him talk of the notable occurrences taking
+      place about them. &ldquo;You are wonderfully intelligent, my dear,&rdquo; he had said
+      to her on one occasion, &ldquo;and should miss nothing of the developments that
+      are going on about us;&rdquo; and in proof of it had the very next day taken her
+      to an exhibition of Mr. Morse's new telegraph, given at the Institute, at
+      which two operators, each with an instrument, the men in sight of each
+      other, but too far apart to be in collusion, were sending and answering
+      the messages through wires stretched around the hall. She, at Richard's
+      suggestion, had written a message herself, which she handed to the nearest
+      operator who had ticked it to his fellow, and who at once read it to the
+      audience. Even then many doubting Thomases had cried out &ldquo;Collusion,&rdquo;
+       until Richard, rising in his seat, had not only endorsed the truth of the
+      reading, but explained the invention, his statement silencing all
+      opposition because of his well-known standing and knowledge of kindred
+      sciences.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Richard's readings also, from which Kate was never absent, and which had
+      now been resumed at his own house, greatly interested her. These of late
+      had been devoted to many of Poe's earlier poems and later tales, for
+      despite the scene at St. George's the inventor had never ceased to believe
+      in the poet.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And so with these occupations, studies, investigations, and social
+      pleasures&mdash;she never missing a ball or party (Willits always managing
+      to be with her)&mdash;and the spending of the summer months at the Red
+      Sulphur, where she had been pursued by half a dozen admirers&mdash;one a
+      titled Englishman&mdash;had the days and hours of the years of Harry's
+      absence passed slowly away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At the end of the second winter a slight change occurred in the monotony
+      of her life. Her constant, unwavering devotee, Langdon Willits, fell ill
+      and had to be taken to the Eastern Shore, where the same old lot of
+      bandages&mdash;that is of the same pattern&mdash;and the same loyal sister
+      were impressed into service to nurse him back to health. The furrow
+      Harry's bullet had ploughed in his head still troubled him at times,
+      especially in the hot weather, and a horseback ride beside Kate one August
+      day, with the heat in the nineties, had started the subsoil of his cranium
+      to aching with such vehemence that Teackle had promptly packed it in ice
+      and ten days later its owner in blankets and had put them both aboard the
+      bay boat bound for the Eastern Shore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Whether this new irritant&mdash;and everything seemed to annoy her now&mdash;had
+      begun to tell on our beautiful Kate, or whether the gayety of the winter
+      both at home and in Washington, where she had spent some weeks during the
+      season, had tired her out, certain it was that when the spring came the
+      life had gone out of her step and the color from her cheeks. Mammy Henny
+      had noticed it and had coddled her the more, crooning and petting her; and
+      her father had noticed it and had begun to be anxious, and at last St.
+      George had stalked in and cried out in that breezy, joyous way of his that
+      nothing daunted:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here, you sweetheart!&mdash;what have you been doing to your cheeks&mdash;all
+      the roses out of them and pale as two lilies&mdash;and you never out of
+      bed until twelve o'clock in the day and looking then as if you hadn't had
+      a wink of sleep all night. Not a word out of you, Seymour, until I've
+      finished. I'm going to take Kate down to Tom Coston's and keep her there
+      till she gets well. Too many stuffy balls&mdash;too many late suppers&mdash;oyster
+      roasts and high doings. None of that at Tom's. Up at six and to bed at
+      ten. I've just had a letter from him and dear Peggy is crazy to have us
+      come. Take your mare along, Kate, and you won't lack fresh air. Now what
+      do you say, Seymour?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Of course the Honorable Prim bobbed his honorable head and said he had
+      been worried himself over Kate's loss of appetite, and that if Temple
+      would, etc., etc.&mdash;he would&mdash;etc., etc.&mdash;and so Mammy Henny
+      began to get pink and white and other fluffy things together, and Ben,
+      with Todd to help, led Joan, her own beloved saddle horse, down to the
+      dock and saw that she was safely lodged between decks, and then up came a
+      coach (all this was two days later) and my lady drove off with two hair
+      trunks in front and a French bonnet box behind&mdash;St. George beside
+      her, and fat Mammy Henny in white kerchief and red bandanna, opposite, and
+      Todd in one of St. George's old shooting-jackets on the box next the
+      driver, with his feet on two of the dogs, the others having been loaned to
+      a friend.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And it was a great leave-taking when the party reached the wharf. Not only
+      were three or four of her girl friends present, but a dozen or more of the
+      old merchants forsook their desks, when the coach unlimbered, most of them
+      crossing the cobbles&mdash;some bare-headed, and all of them in high
+      stocks and swallow-tail coats&mdash;pens behind their ears, spectacles on
+      their pates&mdash;to bid the young princess good-by.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For Kate was still &ldquo;our Kate,&rdquo; in the widest and broadest sense and the
+      pride and joy of all who knew her, and many who didn't. That she had a
+      dozen beaux&mdash;and that some of them had tried to bore holes in each
+      other for love of her; and that one of them was now a wanderer and another
+      in a state of collapse, if report were true&mdash;was quite as it should
+      be. Men had died for women a hundred times less worthy and a thousand
+      times less beautiful, and men would die of love again. When at last she
+      made up her mind she would choose the right man, and in the meantime God
+      bless her for just being alive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And she was never more alive or more charming than to-day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, how delightful of you, Mr. Murdoch, and you too, Mr. Bowdoin&mdash;and
+      Max&mdash;and all of you, to cross those wretched stones. No, wait, I'll
+      come to you&mdash;&rdquo; she had called out, when with a stamp of her little
+      feet she had shaken the pleats from her skirt&mdash;adding when they had
+      all kissed her hand in turn&mdash;&ldquo;Yes&mdash;I am going down to be
+      dairy-maid at Peggy Coston's,&rdquo; at which the bald-headed old fellows, with
+      their hands upraised in protest at so great a sacrilege, bowed to the
+      ground, their fingers on their ruffled shirt-fronts, and the younger ones
+      lifted their furry hats and kept them in the air until she had crossed the
+      gang-plank and Todd and Mammy Henny, and Ben who had come to help, lost
+      their several breaths getting the impatient dogs and baggage aboard&mdash;and
+      so she sailed away with Uncle George as chaperon, the whole party throwing
+      kisses back and forth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Their reception at Wesley, the ancestral home of the Costons, although it
+      was late at night when they arrived, was none the less joyous. Peggy was
+      the first to welcome the invalid, and Tom was not far behind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give her to me, St. George,&rdquo; bubbled Peggy, enfolding the girl in her
+      arms. &ldquo;You blessed thing! Oh, how glad I am to get hold of you! They told
+      me you were ill, child&mdash;not a word of truth in it! No, Mr. Coston,
+      you sha'n't even have one of her little fingers until I get through loving
+      her. What's your mammy's name&mdash;Henny? Well, Henny, you take Miss
+      Kate's things into her room&mdash;that one at the top of the stairs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And then the Honorable Tom Coston said he'd be doggoned if he was going to
+      wait another minute, and he didn't&mdash;for Kate kissed him on both
+      cheeks and gave him her father's message, congratulating him on his
+      appointment as judge, and thanking him in advance for all the kindness he
+      would show his daughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But it was not until she awoke next morning and looked out between the
+      posts of her high bedstead through the small, wide-open window overlooking
+      the bay that her heart gave the first bound of real gladness. She loved
+      the sky and the dash of salt air, laden now with the perfume of budding
+      fruit trees, that blew straight in from the sea. She loved, too, the stir
+      and sough of the creaking pines and the cheery calls from the barnyard.
+      Here she could get her mind settled; here, too, she could forget all the
+      little things that had bothered her&mdash;there would be no more
+      invitations to accept or decline; no promises she must keep. She and her
+      Uncle George could have one long holiday&mdash;she needed it and, goodness
+      knows, he needed it after all his troubles&mdash;and they would begin as
+      soon as breakfast was over. And they did&mdash;the dogs plunging ahead,
+      the two hand in hand, St. George, guide and philosopher, pointing out this
+      and that characteristic feature of the once famous estate and dilating on
+      its past glory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Even in my father's day,&rdquo; he continued, his face lighting up, &ldquo;it was one
+      of the great show places of the county. The stables held twenty horses and
+      a coach, besides no end of gigs and carryalls. This broad road on which we
+      walk was lined with flower-beds and shaded by live-oaks. Over there, near
+      that little grove, were three great barns and lesser out-buildings,
+      besides the negro quarters, smoke-houses, and hay-ricks. Really a
+      wonderful place in its day, Kate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then he went on to tell of how the verandas were shaded with honeysuckles,
+      and the halls, drawing-rooms, and dining-room crowded with furniture; how
+      there were yellow damask curtains, and screens, and hair-cloth sofas and a
+      harmonicon of musical glasses which was played by wetting one's fingers in
+      a bowl of water and passing them over the rims&mdash;he had played on it
+      himself when a boy; and slaves galore&mdash;nearly one hundred of them,
+      not to mention a thousand acres of tillable land to plough and harrow, as
+      well as sheep, oxen, pigs, chickens, ducks&mdash;everything that a man of
+      wealth and position might have had in the old days, and about every one of
+      which St. George had a memory.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then when Tom's father, who was the sole heir, took charge (here his voice
+      dropped to a whisper) dissolution proceedings set in&mdash;and Tom
+      finished them! and St. George sighed heavily as he pointed out the
+      changes:&mdash;the quarters in ruins, the stables falling to pieces, the
+      gates tied up with strings or swinging loose; and the flocks, herds, and
+      live-stock things of the past. Nor had a negro been left&mdash;none Tom
+      really owned: one by one they had been sold or hired out, or gone off
+      nobody knew where, he being too lazy, or too indifferent, or too
+      good-natured, to hunt them up. The house, as Kate had seen, was equally
+      neglected. Even what remained of the old furniture was on its last legs&mdash;the
+      curtains patched, or in shreds&mdash;the carpets worn into holes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate listened eagerly, but she did not sigh. It was all charming to her in
+      the soft spring sunshine, the air a perfume, the birds singing, the
+      blossoms bursting, the peach-trees anthems of praise&mdash;and best of all
+      her dear Uncle George strolling at her side. And then everything was so
+      clean and fresh and sweet in every nook and corner of the tumble-down
+      house. Peggy, as she soon discovered, looked after that&mdash;in fact
+      Peggy looked after everything that required looking after&mdash;and
+      everything did&mdash;including the judge. Mr. Coston was tired, Peggy
+      would say, or Mr. Coston had not been very well, so she just did it
+      herself instead of bothering him. Since his promotion it was generally
+      &ldquo;the judge&rdquo; who was too tired, being absorbed in his court duties, etc.,
+      etc. But it always came with a laugh, and it was always genuine, for to
+      wait upon him and look after him and minister to him was her highest
+      happiness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Good for nothing as he would have been to some women&mdash;unpractical,
+      lazy&mdash;a man few sensible wives would have put up with&mdash;Peggy
+      adored him; and so did his children adore him, and so, for that matter,
+      did his neighbors, many of whom, although they ridiculed him behind his
+      back, could never escape the charm of his personality whenever they sat
+      beside his rocking-chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This chair&mdash;the only comfortable chair in the house, by the way&mdash;had,
+      in his less distinguished days, been his throne. In it he would sit all
+      day long, cutting and whittling, filing and polishing curious trinkets of
+      tortoise-shell for watch-guards and tiny baskets made of cherry-stones,
+      cunningly wrought and finished. He was an expert, too, in corn-cob pipes,
+      which he carved for all his friends; and pin-wheels for everybody's
+      children. When it came, however, to such matters as a missing hinge to the
+      front door, a brick under a tottering chimney, the straightening of a
+      falling fence, the repairing of a loose lock on the smoke-house&mdash;or
+      even the care of the family carryall, which despite its great age and
+      infirmities was often left out in the rain to rust and ruin&mdash;these
+      things must, of course, wait until the overworked father of the house
+      found time to look after them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The children loved him the most. They asked for nothing better than to fix
+      him in his big chair by the fender, throw upon the fire a basket of bark
+      chips from the wood-yard, and enough pitch-pine knots to wake them up, and
+      after filling his pipe and lighting it, snuggle close&mdash;every bend and
+      curve of the wide-armed splint-bottomed comfort packed full, all waiting
+      to hear him tell one of his stories. Sometimes it was the tale of the fish
+      and the cuff-button&mdash;how he once dropped his sleeve-link overboard,
+      and how a year afterward he was in a shallop on the Broadwater fishing for
+      rockflsh when he caught a splendid fellow, which when Aunt Patience
+      cleaned&mdash;(here his voice would drop to a whisper)&mdash;&ldquo;What do you
+      think!&mdash;why out popped the sleeve-link that was in his cuff this
+      minute!&rdquo; And for the hundredth time the bit of gold would be examined by
+      each child in turn. Or it was the witch story&mdash;about the Yahoo wild
+      man with great horns and a lashing tail, who lived in the swamp and went
+      howling and prowling about for plunder and prey. (This was always given
+      with a low, prolonged growl, like a dog in pain&mdash;all the children
+      shuddering.) And then followed the oft-told tale of how this same terrible
+      Yahoo once came up with Hagar, who was riding a witch pony to get to the
+      witches' dance in the cane-brake, and how he made off with her to the
+      swamp, where she had had to cook for him&mdash;ever&mdash;ever&mdash;ever
+      since. (Long-drawn breath, showing that all was over for that day at
+      least.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd got the true inwardness of the situation before he had been many days
+      at Wesley: for the scene with the children was often repeated when court
+      was not in session.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fo' Gawd, Marse George, hab you had time to watch dat gemman, de jedge?
+      Dey do say he's sumpin' great, but I tell ye he's dat lazy a fly stuck in
+      'lasses 'd pass him on de road.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George laughed heartily in reply, but he did not reprimand him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What makes you think so, Todd?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Can't help thinkin' so. I wuz standin' by de po'ch yisterday holdin' Miss
+      Kate's mare, when I yere de mistis ask de jedge ter go out an' git 'er
+      some kindlin' f'om de wood-pile. He sot a-rockin' hisse'f in dat big cheer
+      ob his'n an' I yered him say&mdash;'Yes, in a minute,' but he didn't move.
+      Den she holler ag'in at him an' still he rock hisse'f, sayin' he's comin'.
+      Den, fust thing I knowed out she come to de woodpile an' git it herse'f,
+      an' den when she pass him wid 'er arms full o' wood he look up an' say&mdash;'Peggy,
+      come yere an' kiss me&mdash;I dunno what we'd do widout ye&mdash;you'se de
+      Lawd's anointed, sho'.'&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate got no end of amusement out of him, and would often walk with him to
+      court that she might listen to his drolleries&mdash;especially his queer
+      views of life&mdash;the simplest and most unaffected to which she had ever
+      bent her ears. Now and then, as time went on, despite her good-natured
+      toleration of his want of independence&mdash;he being always dominated by
+      his wife&mdash;she chanced, to her great surprise, upon some nuggets of
+      hard common-sense of so high an assay that they might really be graded as
+      wisdom&mdash;his analysis of men and women being particularly surprising.
+      Those little twinkling, and sometimes sleepy, eyes of his, now that she
+      began to study him the closer, reminded her of the unreadable eyes of an
+      elephant she had once seen&mdash;eyes that presaged nothing but inertia,
+      until whack went the trunk and over toppled the boy who had teased him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And with this new discovery there developed at last a certain respect for
+      the lazy, good-natured, droll old man. Opinions which she had heretofore
+      laughed at suddenly became of value; criticisms which she had passed over
+      in silence seemed worthy of further consideration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Peggy, however, fitted into all the tender places of her heart. She had
+      never known her own mother; all she remembered was a face bending close
+      and a soft hand that tucked in the coverlet one night when she couldn't
+      sleep. The memory had haunted her from the days of her childhood&mdash;clear
+      and distinct, with every detail in place. Had there been light enough in
+      her mother's bed-room, she was sure she could have added the dear face
+      itself to her recollection. Plump, full-bosomed, rosy-cheeked Peggy
+      (fifteen years younger than Tom) supplied the touch and voice, and all the
+      tenderness as well, that these sad memories recalled, and all that the
+      motherless girl had yearned for.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the simple, uneventful life&mdash;one without restraints of any kind,
+      greatly satisfied her: so different from her own at home with Prim as
+      Chief Regulator. Everybody, to her delight, did as they pleased, each one
+      following the bent of his or her inclination. St. George was out at
+      daybreak in the duck-blinds, or, breakfast over, roaming the fields with
+      his dogs, Todd a close attendant. The judge would stroll over to court an
+      hour or more late, only to find an equally careless and contented group
+      blocking up the door&mdash;&ldquo;po' white trash&rdquo; most of them, each one with a
+      grievance. Whenever St. George accompanied him, and he often did, his
+      Honor would spend even less time on the bench&mdash;cutting short both
+      ends of the session, Temple laughing himself sore over the judge's
+      decisions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And he stole yo' shoat and never paid for him?&rdquo; he heard his honor say
+      one day in a hog case, where two farmers who had been waiting hours for
+      Tom's coming were plaintiff and defendant. &ldquo;How did you know it was yo'
+      shoat&mdash;did you mark him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, suh.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tie a tag around his neck?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, suh.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you just keep yo' hogs inside yo' lot. Too many loose hogs runnin'
+      'round. Case is dismissed and co't is adjourned for the day,&rdquo; which, while
+      very poor law, was good common-sense, stray hogs on the public highway
+      having become a nuisance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With these kindly examples before her, Kate soon fell into the ways of the
+      house. If she did not wish to get up she lay abed and Peggy brought her
+      breakfast with her own hands. If, when she did leave her bed, she went
+      about in pussy-slippers and a loose gown of lace and frills without her
+      stays, Peggy's only protest was against her wearing anything else&mdash;so
+      adorable was she. When this happy, dreamy indolence began to pall upon her&mdash;and
+      she could not stand it for long&mdash;she would be up at sunrise helping
+      Peggy wash and dress her frolicsome children or get them off to school,
+      and this done, would assist in the housework&mdash;even rolling the pastry
+      with her own delicate palms, or sitting beside the bubbling, spontaneous
+      woman, needle in hand, aiding with the family mending&mdash;while Peggy,
+      glad of the companionship, would sit with ears open, her mind alert,
+      probing&mdash;probing&mdash;trying to read the heart of the girl whom she
+      loved the better every day. And so there had crept into Kate's heart a new
+      peace that was as fresh sap to a dying plant, bringing the blossoms to her
+      cheeks and the spring of wind-blown branches to her step.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then one fine morning, to the astonishment of every one, and greatly to
+      Todd's disgust, no less a person than Mr. Langdon Willits of &ldquo;Oak Hill&rdquo;
+       (distant three miles away) dismounted at Coston's front porch, and
+      throwing the reins to the waiting darky, stretched his convalescent, but
+      still shaky, legs in the direction of the living-room, there to await the
+      arrival of &ldquo;Miss Seymour of Kennedy Square,&rdquo; who, so he informed Todd,
+      &ldquo;expected him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd scraped a foot respectfully in answer, touched his cocoanut of a head
+      with his monkey claw of a finger, waited until the broad back of the
+      red-headed gentleman had been swallowed up by the open door, and then
+      indulged in this soliloquy:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Funny de way dem bullets hab o' missin' folks. Des a leetle furder down
+      an' dere wouldn't 'a' been none o' dis yere foolishness. Pity Marse Harry
+      hadn't practised some mo'. Ef he had ter do it ag'in I reckon he'd pink
+      him so he neber be cavortin' 'roun' like he is now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Willits's sudden appearance filled St. George with ill-concealed anxiety.
+      He did not believe in this parade of invalidism, nor did he like Kate's
+      encouraging smile when she met him&mdash;and there was no question that
+      she did smile&mdash;and, more portentous still, that she enjoyed it. Other
+      things, too, she grew to enjoy, especially the long rides in the woods and
+      over to the broad water. For Willits's health after a few days of the
+      sunshine of Kate's companionship had undergone so renovating a process
+      that the sorrel horse now arrived at the porch almost every day, whereupon
+      Kate's Joan would be led out, and the smiled-upon gentleman in English
+      riding-boots and brown velvet jacket and our gracious lady in Lincoln
+      green habit with wide hat and sweeping plume would mount their steeds and
+      be lost among the pines.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Indeed, to be exact, half of Kate's time was now spent in the saddle,
+      Willits riding beside her. And with each day's outing a new and, to St.
+      George, a more disturbing intimacy appeared to be growing between them.
+      Now it was Willits's sister who had to be considered and especially
+      invited to Wesley&mdash;a thin wisp of a woman with tortoise-shell
+      sidecombs and bunches of dry curls, who always dressed in shiny black silk
+      and whose only ornament was her mother's hair set in a breastpin; or it
+      was his father by whom she must sit when he came over in his gig&mdash;a
+      bluff, hearty man who generally wore a red waistcoat with big bone buttons
+      and high boots with tassels in front.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This last confidential relation, when the manners and bearing of the elder
+      man came under his notice, seemed to St. George the most unaccountable of
+      all. Departures from the established code always jarred upon him, and the
+      gentleman in the red waistcoat and tasselled boots often wandered so far
+      afield that he invariably set St. George's teeth on edge. Although he had
+      never met Kate before, he called her by her first name after the first ten
+      minutes of their acquaintance&mdash;his son, he explained, having done
+      nothing but sound her praises for the past two years, an excuse which
+      carried no weight in gentleman George's mind because of its additional
+      familiarity. He had never dared, he knew, to extend that familiarity to
+      Peggy&mdash;it had always been &ldquo;Mrs. Coston&rdquo; to her and it had always been
+      &ldquo;Mr. Coston&rdquo; to Tom, and it was now &ldquo;your Honor&rdquo; or &ldquo;judge&rdquo; to the
+      dispenser of justice. For though the owner of Oak Hill lived within a few
+      miles of the tumble-down remnant that sheltered the Costons; and though he
+      had fifty servants to their one, or half a one&mdash;and broad acres in
+      proportion, to say nothing of flocks and herds&mdash;St. George had always
+      been aware that he seldom crossed their porch steps or they his. That
+      little affair of some fifty or more years ago was still remembered, and
+      the children of people who did that sort of thing must, of course, pay the
+      penalty. Even Peggy never failed to draw the line. &ldquo;Very nice people, my
+      dear,&rdquo; he had heard her say to Kate one day when the subject of the
+      younger man's family had come up. &ldquo;Mr. Willits senior is a fine,
+      open-hearted man, and does a great deal of good in the county with his
+      money&mdash;quite a politician, and they do say has a fair chance of some
+      time being governor of the State. But very few of us about here would want
+      to marry into the family, all the same. Oh no, my dear Kate, of course
+      there was nothing against his grandmother. She was a very nice woman, I
+      believe, and I've often heard my own mother speak of her. Her father came
+      from Albemarle Sound, if I am right, and was old John Willits's overseer.
+      The girl was his daughter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate had made no answer. Who Langdon Willits's grandmother was, or whether
+      he had any grandmother at all, did not concern her in the least. She
+      rather admired the young Albemarle Sound girl for walking boldly into the
+      Willits family&mdash;low born as she was&mdash;and making them respect
+      her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But none of Peggy's outspoken warnings nor any of St. George's silent
+      acceptances of the several situations&mdash;always a mark of his
+      disapproval&mdash;checked the game of love-making which was going on&mdash;the
+      give-and-take stage of it, with the odds varying with each new shifting of
+      the cards, both Peggy and St. George growing the more nervous.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's going to accept him, St. George,&rdquo; Peggy had said to him one morning
+      as he stood behind her chair while she was shelling the peas for dinner.
+      &ldquo;I didn't think so when he first came, but I believe it now. I have said
+      all I could to her. She has cuddled up in my arms and cried herself sick
+      over it, but she won't hold out much longer. Young Rutter left her heart
+      all torn and bleeding and this man has bound up the sore places. She will
+      never love anybody that way again&mdash;and may be it is just as well.
+      He'd have kept her guessing all her life as to what he'd do next. I wish
+      Willits's blood was better, for she's a dear, sweet child and proud as she
+      can be, only she's proud over different things from what I would be. But
+      you can make up your mind to it&mdash;she'll keep him dangling for a while
+      yet, as she did last summer at the Red Sulphur, but she'll be his wife in
+      a year or less&mdash;you mark my words. You haven't yet heard from the
+      first one, have you?&mdash;as to when he's coming home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George hadn't heard&mdash;he sighed in return&mdash;a habit of his
+      lately: No, not for two months or more&mdash;not since the letter in which
+      Harry said he had left the ship and had gone up into the interior. He had,
+      he told her, mentioned the boy's silence to Kate in a casual way, watching
+      the effect the news produced upon her&mdash;but after the remark that the
+      mails were always irregular from those far-away countries, she had turned
+      the conversation into other channels, she having caught sight of Willits,
+      who had just dismounted from his horse.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to St. George's own position in the affair he felt that his hands were
+      still so firmly tied that he could do nothing one way or the other. His
+      personal intercourse with Willits had been such as he would always have
+      with a man with whom he was on speaking terms, but it never passed that
+      border. He was courteous, careful of his speech, and mindful of the young
+      man's devotion to Kate, whose guardian for the time being he was, but he
+      neither encouraged nor thwarted his suit. Kate was of age and was fully
+      competent to decide for herself&mdash;extremely competent, for that
+      matter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      How little this clear reader of women's hearts&mdash;and scores had been
+      spread out before him&mdash;knew of Kate's, no one but the girl herself
+      could have told. That she was adrift on an open sea without a rudder, and
+      that she had already begun to lose confidence both in her seamanship and
+      in her compass, was becoming more and more apparent to her every day she
+      lived. All she knew positively was that she had been sailing before the
+      wind for some weeks past with everything flying loose, and that the time
+      had now come for her either to &ldquo;go about&rdquo; or keep on her course.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her suitor's family she had carefully considered. She had also studied his
+      environment and the impression he made upon those who had known him
+      longest:&mdash;she must now focus her mental lenses on the man himself. He
+      had, she knew, graduated with honors, being the valedictorian of his
+      class; had risen rapidly in his profession, and, from what her father
+      said, would soon reach a high place among his brother lawyers. There was
+      even talk of sending him to the legislature, where her own father, the
+      Honorable Prim, had achieved his title. She wished, of course, that Mr.
+      Willits's hair was not quite so red; she wished, too, that the knuckles on
+      his hands were not so large and bony&mdash;and that he was not always at
+      her beck and call; but these, she was forced to admit, were trifles in the
+      make-up of a fine man. There was, however, a sane mind under the
+      carrot-colored hair and a warm palm inside the knotted knuckles, and that
+      was infinitely more important than little physical peculiarities which one
+      would forget as life went on. As to his periods of ill health, these she
+      herself could have prevented had she told him the whole truth that night
+      on the stairs, or the day before when she had parried his direct proposal
+      of marriage&mdash;a piece of stupidity for which she never failed to blame
+      herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His future conduct did not trouble her in the least. She had long since
+      become convinced that Willits would never again become intemperate. He had
+      kept his promise, and this meant more to her than his having given way to
+      past temptations. The lesson he had learned at the ball had had, too, its
+      full effect. One he had never forgotten. Over and over again he had
+      apologized to her for his brutal insolence in laying his profane hands on
+      her dancing-card and tearing it to bits before her eyes. He had, moreover,
+      deeply regretted the duel and had sworn to her on his honor as a gentleman
+      that he would never fight another.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Each time she had listened quietly and had told him how much she was
+      pleased and how grateful she was for his confidence and how such fine
+      resolutions redounded to his credit, and yet in thinking it over the next
+      day she could not help comparing his meek outbursts of sorrow with Harry's
+      blunt statement made to her the last time she saw him in the park, when,
+      instead of expressing any regret for having shot Willits, he had boldly
+      declared that he would do it again if any such insult were repeated. And
+      strange to say&mdash;and this she could not understand in herself&mdash;in
+      all such comparisons Harry came out best.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But:&mdash;and here she had to hold on to her rudder with all her might&mdash;she
+      had already made one mistake, tumbling head over heels in love with a
+      young fellow who had mortified her before the world when their engagement
+      was less than a few months old, making her name and affections a byword,
+      and she could not and would not repeat the blunder. This had shattered her
+      customary self-reliance, leaving her wellnigh helpless. Perhaps after all&mdash;an
+      unheard-of thing in her experience&mdash;she had better seek advice of
+      some older and wiser pilot. Two heads, or even three&mdash;(here her canny
+      Scotch blood asserted itself)&mdash;were better than one in deciding so
+      important a matter as the choosing of a mate for life. And yet&mdash;now
+      she came to think it over&mdash;it was not so much a question of heads as
+      it was a question of shoulders on which the heads rested. To turn to St.
+      George, or to any member of the Willits kin, was impossible. Peggy's views
+      she understood. Counsel, however, she must have, and at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly an inspiration thrilled her like an electric shock&mdash;one that
+      sent the blood tingling to the very roots of her hair. Why had she not
+      thought of it before! And it must be in the most casual way&mdash;quite as
+      a matter of general conversation, he doing all the talking and she doing
+      all the listening, for on no account must he suspect her purpose.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Within the hour she had tied the ribbons of her wide leghorn hat under her
+      dimpled chin, picked up her shawl, and started off alone, following the
+      lane to the main road. If the judge, by any chance, had adjourned court he
+      would come straight home and she would meet him on the way. If he was
+      still engaged in the dispensation of justice, she would wait for him
+      outside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had judged wisely. Indeed she might have waited for days for some such
+      moment and not found so favorable an opportunity. His Honor had already
+      left the bench and was then slowly making his way toward where she stood,
+      hugging the sidewalk trees the better to shade him from the increasing
+      heat. As the day had promised to be an unusually warm one, he had attired
+      himself in a full suit of yellow nankeen, with palm-leaf fan and wide
+      straw hat&mdash;a combination which so matched the color and texture of
+      his placid, kindly face that Kate could hardly keep from laughing
+      outright. Instead she quickened her steps until she stood beside him, her
+      lovely, fresh color heightened by her walk, her eyes sparkling, her face
+      wreathed in smiles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You are lookin' mighty cute, my Lady Kate, in yo' Paisley shawl and
+      sarsanet pelisse,&rdquo; he called out in his hearty, cheery way. &ldquo;Has Peggy
+      seen 'em? I've been tryin' to get her some just like 'em, only my co't
+      duties are so pressin'. Goodness, gracious me!&mdash;but it's gettin'
+      hot!&rdquo; Here he stopped and mopped his face, then his eyes fell upon her
+      again: &ldquo;Bless my soul, child!&mdash;you do look pretty this mornin'&mdash;jest
+      like yo' mother! Where did you get all those pink and white apple-blossoms
+      in yo' cheeks?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you remember her, Mr. Coston?&rdquo; she rejoined, ignoring his compliment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I remember her! The belle of fo' counties, my dear&mdash;eve'ybody at
+      her feet; five or six gentlemen co'tin' her at once; old Captain Barkeley,
+      cross as a bear&mdash;wouldn't let her marry this one or that one&mdash;kep'
+      her guessin' night and day, till one of 'em blew his brains out, and then
+      she fainted dead away. Pretty soon yo' father co'ted her, and bein'
+      Scotch, like the old captain and sober as an owl and about as cunnin', it
+      wasn't long befo' everything was settled. Very nice man, yo' father&mdash;got
+      to have things mighty partic'lar; we young bucks used to say he slept in a
+      bag of lavender and powdered his cheeks every mornin' to make him look
+      fresh, while most of us were soakin' wet in the duck-blinds&mdash;but that
+      was only our joke. That's long befo' you were born, child. But yo' mother
+      didn't live long&mdash;they said her heart was broken 'bout the other
+      fellow, but there wasn't a word of truth in that foolishness&mdash;couldn't
+      be. I used to see her and yo' father together long after that, and she was
+      mighty good to him, and he was to her. Yes&mdash;all comes back to me.
+      Stand still, child, and let me look at you&mdash;yes&mdash;you're plumper
+      than yo' mother and a good deal rosier, and you don't look so slender and
+      white as she did, like one of those pale Indian pipes she used to hunt in
+      the woods. It's the Seymour in you that's done that, I reckon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate walked on in silence. It was not the first time that some of her
+      mother's old friends had told her practically the same story&mdash;not so
+      clearly, perhaps, because few had the simple, outspoken candor of the old
+      fellow, but enough to let her know that her father was not her mother's
+      first love.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be in a hurry, child, and don't let anybody choose for you,&rdquo; he ran
+      on. &ldquo;Peggy and I didn't make any mistakes&mdash;and don't you. Now this
+      young son of Parker Willits's&rdquo;&mdash;here his wrinkled face tightened up
+      into a pucker as if he had just bitten into an unripe persimmon&mdash;&ldquo;good
+      enough young man, may be; goin' to be something great, I reckon&mdash;in
+      Mr. Taney's office, I hear, or will be next winter. I 'spect he'll keep
+      out of jail&mdash;most Willitses do&mdash;but keep an eye on him and watch
+      him, and watch yo'self too. That's more important still. The cemetery is a
+      long ways off when you marry the wrong man, child. And that other fellow
+      that Peggy tells me has been co'tin' you&mdash;Talbot Rutter's boy&mdash;he's
+      a wild one, isn't he?&mdash;drunk half the time and fightin' everybody who
+      don't agree with him. Come pretty nigh endin' young Willits, so they say.
+      Now I hear he's run away to sea and left all his debts behind. Talbot
+      turned him neck and heels out of doors when he found it out, so they tell
+      me&mdash;and served the scapegrace right. Don't be in a hurry, child.
+      Right man will come bime-by. Just the same with Peggy till I come along&mdash;there
+      she is now, bless her sweet heart! Peggy, you darlin'&mdash;I got so
+      lonely for you I just had to 'journ co't. I've been telling Lady Kate that
+      she mustn't be in a hurry to get married till she finds somebody that will
+      make her as happy as you and me.&rdquo; Here the judge slipped his arm around
+      Peggy's capacious waist and the two crossed the pasture as the nearest way
+      to the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate kept on her way alone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Her only reply to the garrulous judge had been one of her rippling laughs,
+      but it was the laughter of bubbles with the sediment lying deep in the
+      bottom of the glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      But all outings must come to an end. And so when the marsh grass on the
+      lowlands lay in serried waves of dappled satin, and the corn on the
+      uplands was waist high and the roses a mob of beauty, Kate threw her arms
+      around Peggy and kissed her over and over again, her whole heart flowing
+      through her lips; and then the judge got his good-by on his wrinkled
+      cheek, and the children on any clean spot which she found on their
+      molasses-covered faces; and then the cavalcade took up its line of march
+      for the boat-landing, Willits going as far as the wharf, where he and Kate
+      had a long talk in low tones, in which he seemed to be doing all the
+      talking and she all the listening&mdash;&ldquo;But nuthin' mo'n jes' a
+      han'shake&rdquo; (so Todd told St. George), &ldquo;he lookin' like he wanter eat her
+      up an' she kinder sayin' dat de cake ain't brown 'nough yit fur tastin'&mdash;but
+      one thing I know fo' sho'&mdash;an' dat is she didn't let 'im kiss 'er. I
+      wuz leadin' his horse pas' whar dey wuz standin', an' de sorrel varmint
+      got cuttin' up an' I kep' him prancin' till Mister Willits couldn't stay
+      wid her no longer. Drat dat red-haided&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stop, Todd&mdash;be careful&mdash;you mustn't speak that way of Mr.
+      Willits.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, Marse George, I won't&mdash;but I ain't neber like him f'om de
+      fust. He ain't quality an' he neber kin be. How Miss Kate don' stan' him
+      is mo'n I kin tell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate drove up to her father's house in state, with Ben as special envoy to
+      see that she and her belongings were properly cared for. St. George with
+      Todd and the four dogs&mdash;six in all&mdash;arrived, despite Kate's
+      protestations, on foot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson met him at the door. He had given up his boarding-house and had
+      transferred his traps and parcels to the floor above&mdash;into Harry's
+      old room, really&mdash;in order that the additional rent&mdash;(he had now
+      taken entire charge of Temple's finances)&mdash;might help in the payment
+      of the interest on the mortgage. He had thought this all out while St.
+      George was at Wesley and had moved in without notifying him, that being
+      the best way to solve the problem&mdash;St. George still retaining his
+      bedroom and dining-room and the use of the front door. Jemima, too, had
+      gone. She wanted, so she had told her master the day he left with Kate, to
+      take a holiday and visit some of her people who lived down by the Marsh
+      Market in an old rookery near the Falls, and would come back when he sent
+      for her; but Todd had settled all that the morning of his arrival, the
+      moment he caught sight of her black face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't no use yo' comin' back,&rdquo; the darky blurted out. &ldquo;I'm gwineter do de
+      cookin' and de chamber-wo'k. Dere ain't 'nough to eat fo' mo'n two. When
+      dem white-livered, no-count, onery gemmens dat stole Marse George's money
+      git in de chain-gang, whar dey b'longs, den may be we'll hab sumpin' to go
+      to market on, but dat ain't yit; an' don't ye tell Marse George I tol' yer
+      or I'll ha'nt ye like dat witch I done heared 'bout down to Wesley&mdash;ha'nt
+      ye so ye'll think de debble's got ye.&rdquo; To his master, his only explanation
+      was that Jemima had gone to look after her sister, who had been taken &ldquo;wid
+      a mis'ry in her back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      If St. George knew anything of the common talk going on around him no one
+      was ever the wiser. He continued the even tenor of his life, visiting and
+      receiving his friends, entertaining his friends in a simple and
+      inexpensive way: Once Poe had spent an evening with him, when he made a
+      manly, straightforward apology for his conduct the night of the dinner,
+      and on another occasion Mr. Kennedy had made an especial point of missing
+      a train to Washington to have an hour's chat with him. In the afternoons
+      he would have a rubber of whist with the archdeacon who lived across the
+      Square&mdash;a broad-minded ecclesiastic, who believed in relaxation,
+      although, of course, he was never seen at the club; or he might drop into
+      the Chesapeake for a talk with Richard or sit beside him in his curious
+      laboratory at the rear of his house where he worked out many of the
+      problems that absorbed his mind and inspired his hopes. At night, however
+      late or early&mdash;whenever he reached home&mdash;there was always a romp
+      with his dogs. This last he rarely omitted. The click of the front-door
+      latch, followed by his firm step overhead, was their signal, and up they
+      would come, tumbling over each other in their eagerness to reach his
+      cheeks&mdash;straight up, their paws scraping his clothes; then a swoop
+      into the dining-room, when they would be &ldquo;downed&rdquo; to the floor, their eyes
+      following his every movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor had his own financial situation begun as yet to trouble him. Todd and
+      Pawson, however, had long since become nervous. More than once had they
+      put their heads together for some plan by which sufficient money could be
+      raised for current expenses. In this praiseworthy effort, to Todd's
+      unbounded astonishment, Pawson had one night developed a plan in which the
+      greatly feared and much-despised Gadgem was to hold first place. Indeed on
+      the very morning succeeding the receipt of Pawson's letter and at an hour
+      when St. George would be absent at the club, there had come a brisk
+      rat-a-tat on the front door and Gadgem had sidled in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd had not seen the collector since that eventful morning when he stood
+      by ready to pick up the pieces of that gentleman's dismembered body when
+      his master was about to throw him into the street for doubting his word,
+      and he now studied him with the greatest interest. The first thing that
+      struck him was the collector's clothes. As the summer was approaching he
+      had changed his winter suit for a combination of brown linen bound with
+      black&mdash;(second hand, of course, its former owner having gone out of
+      mourning) and at the moment sported a moth-eaten, crape-encircled white
+      beaver with a floppy, two-inch brim, a rusty black stock that grabbed him
+      close under the chin, completely submerging his collar, and a pair of
+      congress gaiters very much run down at the heel. He was evidently master
+      of himself and the situation, for he stood looking from Todd to the young
+      lawyer, a furtive, anxious expression on his face that betokened both a
+      surprise at being sent for and a curiosity to learn the cause, although no
+      word of inquiry passed his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson's opening remark calmed the collector's suspicions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;EXactly,&rdquo; he answered in a relieved tone, when the plot had been fully
+      developed, dragging a mate of the red bandanna&mdash;a blue one&mdash;from
+      his pocket and blowing his nose in an impressive manner. &ldquo;EXactly&mdash;quite
+      right&mdash;quite right&mdash;difficult perhaps&mdash;ENORmously difficult
+      but&mdash;yes&mdash;quite right.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then there had followed a hurried consultation, during which the
+      bullet-headed darky absorbed every word, his eyes rolling about in his
+      head, his breath ending somewhere near his jugular vein.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      These details duly agreed upon, Gadgem bowed himself out of the
+      dining-room, carrying with him a note-book filled with such data as:
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+    2 fowling pieces made by Purdey, 1838.
+    3 heavy duck guns.
+    2 English saddles.
+    1 silver loving cup.
+    2 silver coasters, etc, etc.,
+</pre>
+    <p>
+      a list which Todd the night before had prompted and which Pawson, in his
+      clear, round hand, had transferred to a sheet of foolscap ready for Gadgem
+      in the morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On reaching the front door the collector stopped and looked furtively up
+      the stairs. He was wondering with professional caution whether St. George
+      had returned and was within hearing distance. If so much as a hint should
+      reach Temple's ears the whole scheme would come to naught. Still in doubt,
+      he called out in his sharpest business voice, as if prolonging a
+      conversation which had been carried on inside:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Mr. Pawson, please say to Mr. Temple that it is GADgem, of GADgem
+      &amp; Coombs&mdash;and say that I will be here at ten o'clock to-morrow&mdash;sharp&mdash;on
+      the minute; I am ALways on the minute in matters of this kind. Only five
+      minutes of his time&mdash;five minutes, remember&mdash;&rdquo; and he passed out
+      of hearing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd, now duly installed as co-conspirator, opened the ball the next
+      morning at breakfast. St. George had slept late, and the hands of the
+      marble clock marked but a few minutes of the hour of Gadgem's expected
+      arrival, and not a moment could be lost.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dat Gadgem man done come yere yisterday,&rdquo; he began, drawing out his
+      master's chair with an extra flourish to hide his nervousness, &ldquo;an' he say
+      he's commin' ag'in dis mornin' at ten o'clock. Clar to goodness it's dat
+      now! I done forgot to tell ye.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does he want, Todd?&rdquo; asked St. George, dropping into his seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I dunno, sah&mdash;said he was lookin' fo' sumpin' fo' a frien' ob his&mdash;I
+      think it was a gun&mdash;an' he wanted to know what kind to buy fur him&mdash;Yes,
+      sah, dem waffles 's jes' off de fire. He 'lowed he didn't know nuffin'
+      'bout guns&mdash;butter, sah?&mdash;an' den Mister Pawson spoke up an'
+      said he'd better ask you. He's tame dis time&mdash;leastways he 'peared
+      so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A fine gun is rather a difficult thing to get in these days, Todd,&rdquo;
+       replied St. George, opening his napkin. &ldquo;Since old Joe Manton died I don't
+      know but one good maker&mdash;and that's Purdey, of London, and he, I
+      hear, has orders to last him five years. No, Todd&mdash;I'd rather have
+      the toast.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sah&mdash;I knowed ye couldn't do nuffln' fur him&mdash;Take de top
+      piece&mdash;dat's de brownest&mdash;but he seemed so cut up 'bout it dat I
+      tol' him he might see ye fur a minute if he come 'long 'bout ten o'clock,
+      when you was fru' yo' bre'kfus', 'fo' ye got tangled up wid yo' letters
+      an' de papers. Dat's him now, I spec's. Shall I show him in?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, show him in, Todd. Gadgem isn't a bad sort of fellow after all. He
+      only wants his pound of flesh, like the others. Ah, good-morning, Mr.
+      Gadgem.&rdquo; The front door had been purposely left open, and though the bill
+      collector had knocked by way of warning, he had paused for no answer and
+      was already in the room. The little man laid his battered hat silently on
+      a chair near the door, pulled down his tight linen sleeves with the
+      funereal binding, adjusted his high black stock, and with half-creeping,
+      half-cringing movement, advanced to where St. George sat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I said good-morning, Mr. Gadgem,&rdquo; repeated St. George in his most
+      captivating tone of voice. He had been greatly amused at Gadgem's antics.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I heard you, sir&mdash;I heard you DIStinctly, sir&mdash;I was only
+      seeking a place on which to rest my hat, sir&mdash;not a very inSPIRing
+      hat-quite the contrary&mdash;but all I have. Yes, sir&mdash;you are quite
+      right&mdash;it is a VERY good morning&mdash;a most deLIGHTful morning. I
+      was convinced of that when I crossed the park, sir. The trees&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Never mind the trees, Gadgem. We will take those up later on. Tell me
+      what I can do for you&mdash;what do you want?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;A GUN, sir&mdash;a plain, straightforward GUN&mdash;one that can be
+      relied upon. Not for mySELF, sir&mdash;I am not murderously inclined&mdash;but
+      for a friend who has commissioned me&mdash;the exact word, sir&mdash;although
+      the percentage is small&mdash;comMISsioned me to acquire for him a fowling
+      piece of the pattern, weight, and build of those belonging to St. George
+      W. Temple, Esquire, of Kennedy Square-and so I made bold, sir, to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You won't find it, Gadgem,&rdquo; replied St. George, buttering the toast. &ldquo;I
+      have two that I have shot with for years that haven't their match in the
+      State. Todd, bring me one of those small bird guns&mdash;there, behind the
+      door in the rack. Hand it to Mr. Gadgem. Now, can you see by the shape of&mdash;take
+      hold of it, man. But do you know anything about guns?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Only enough to keep away from their muzzles, sir.&rdquo; He had it in his hand
+      now&mdash;holding it by the end of the barrel, Todd instinctively dodging
+      out of the way, although he knew it was not loaded. &ldquo;No, sir, I don't know
+      anything&mdash;not the very SMALLest thing about guns. There is nothing,
+      in fact, I know so little about as a gun&mdash;that is why I have come to
+      you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George recovered the piece and laid it as gently on the table beside
+      his plate as if it had been a newly laid egg.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I don't think you do,&rdquo; he laughed, &ldquo;or you wouldn't hold it upside
+      down. Now go on and give me the rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gadgem emitted a chuckle&mdash;the nearest he ever came to a laugh: &ldquo;To
+      have it go ON, sir, is infinitely preferable than to have it go OFF, sir.
+      He-he! And you have, I believe you said, two of these highly valuable
+      implements of death?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, five altogether&mdash;two of this kind. Here, Todd&rdquo;&mdash;and he
+      picked up the gun&mdash;&ldquo;put it back behind the door.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gadgem felt in his inside pocket, produced and consulted a memorandum with
+      the air of a man who wanted to be entirely sure, and in a bland voice
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should think at your time of life&mdash;if you will permit me, sir&mdash;that
+      one less gun would not seriously inconvenience you. Would you permit me,
+      sir, to hope that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George looked up from his plate and a peculiar expression flitted
+      across his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean you want to buy it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The bill collector made a little movement forward and scrutinized St.
+      George's face with the eye of a hawk. For a man of Temple's kidney to be
+      without a fowling piece was like a king being without a crown. This was
+      the crucial moment. Gadgem knew Temple's class, and knew just how
+      delicately he must be handled. If St. George's pride, or his love for his
+      favorite chattels&mdash;things personal to himself&mdash;should overcome
+      him, the whole scheme would fall to the ground. That any gentleman of his
+      standing had ever seen the inside of a pawn-shop in his life was
+      unthinkable. This was what Gadgem faced. As for Todd, he had not drawn a
+      full breath since Gadgem opened his case.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not EXactly buy it, sir,&rdquo; purred Gadgem, twisting his body into an
+      obsequious spiral. &ldquo;Men of your position do not traffic in such things&mdash;but
+      if you would be persuaded, sir, for a money consideration which you would
+      fix yourself&mdash;say the ORIGinal cost of the gun&mdash;to spare one of
+      your five&mdash;you would greatly delight&mdash;in fact, you would
+      overWHELM with gratitude&mdash;a friend of mine.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George hesitated, looked out of the window and a brand-new thought
+      forced its way into his mind&mdash;as if a closet had been suddenly
+      opened, revealing a skeleton he had either forgotten or had put
+      permanently out of sight. There WAS need of this &ldquo;original cost&rdquo;&mdash;instant
+      need&mdash;something he had entirely forgotten. Jemima would soon need it&mdash;perhaps
+      needed it at that very minute. He had, it was true, often kept her
+      waiting: but that was when he could pay at his pleasure; now, perhaps, he
+      couldn't pay at all.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, Gadgem,&rdquo; he said slowly, a far-away, thoughtful look on his
+      face&mdash;&ldquo;come to think of it I don't need two guns of this calibre, and
+      I am quite willing to let this one go, if it will oblige your friend.&rdquo;
+       Here Todd breathed a sigh of relief so loud and deep that his master
+      turned his head in inquiry. &ldquo;As to the price&mdash;I'll look that up. Come
+      and see me again in a day or two. Better take the gun with you now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The fight had been won, but the risk had been great. Even Pawson could
+      hardly believe his ears when Gadgem, five minutes later, related the
+      outcome of the interview.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, it will be plain sailing so long as the rest of the things
+      last,&rdquo; said Pawson, handling the piece with a covetous touch. He too liked
+      a day off when he could get it. &ldquo;Who will you sell the gun to, Gadgem?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;God knows&mdash;I don't! I'll borrow the money on it somehow&mdash;but I
+      can't see him suffer&mdash;no, sir&mdash;can't see him SUFfer. It's a
+      pleasure to serve him&mdash;real gentleman&mdash;REAL&mdash;do you hear,
+      Pawson? No veneer&mdash;no sham&mdash;no lies! Damn few such men, I tell
+      you. Never met one before-never will meet one again. Gave up everything he
+      had for a rattle-brain young scamp&mdash;BEGgared himself to pay his debts&mdash;not
+      a drop of the fellow's blood in his veins either&mdash;incredible&mdash;inCREDible!
+      Got to handle him like gunpowder or he'll blow everything into
+      matchsticks. Find out the price and I'll bring the money to-morrow. Do you
+      pay it to him; I can't. I'd feel too damn mean after lying to him the way
+      I have. Feel that way now. Good-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The same scene was practically repeated the following month. It was an
+      English saddle this time, St. George having two. And it was the same
+      unknown gentleman who figured as &ldquo;the much-obliged friend,&rdquo; Pawson
+      conducting the negotiations and securing the owner's consent. On this
+      occasion Gadgem sold the saddle outright to the keeper of a livery stable,
+      whose bills he collected, paying the difference between the asking and the
+      selling price out of his own pocket.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gradually, however, St. George awoke to certain unsuspected features of
+      what was going on around him. The discovery was made one morning when the
+      go-between was closeted in Pawson's lower office, Pawson conducting the
+      negotiations in St. George's dining-room. The young attorney, with
+      Gadgem's assistance, had staved off some accounts until a legal ultimatum
+      had been reached, and, having but few resources of his own left, had, with
+      Todd's help, decided that the silver loving-cup presented to his client's
+      father by the Marquis de Castullux could alone save the situation&mdash;a
+      decision which brought an emphatic refusal from the owner. This and the
+      discovery of Pawson's and Gadgem's treachery had greatly incensed him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you tell me, Pawson, that that scoundrel, Gadgem, has&mdash;Todd go
+      down and bring him up here immediately&mdash;has had the audacity to run a
+      pawnshop for my benefit without so much as asking my leave?&mdash;peddling
+      my things?&mdash;lying to me straight through?&rdquo; Here the door opened and
+      Gadgem's face peered in. He had, as was his custom, crept upstairs so as
+      to be within instant call when wanted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;I am speaking of you, sir. Come inside and shut that door
+      behind you. You too, Todd. What the devil do you mean, Gadgem, by
+      deceiving me in this way? Don't you know I would rather have starved to
+      death than&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gadgem raised his hand in protest:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;EXactly so, sir. That's what we were afraid of, sir&mdash;such an
+      uncomfortable thing to starve to death, sir&mdash;I couldn't permit it,
+      sir&mdash;I'd rather walk my feet off than permit it. I did walk them off&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But who asked you to tramp the streets with my things uuder your arm? And
+      you lied to me about it&mdash;you said you wanted to oblige a friend.
+      There wasn't a word of truth in it, and you know it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Gadgem's hand went out with a pleading &ldquo;Please-don't&rdquo; gesture. &ldquo;Less
+      than a word, sir&mdash;a whole dictionary, less, sir, and UNabridged at
+      that, if I might be permitted to say it. My friend still has the implement
+      of death, and not only does he still possess it, but he is ENORmously
+      obliged. Indeed, I have never SEEN him so happy.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean to tell me, Gadgem,&rdquo; St. George burst out, &ldquo;that the money you
+      paid me for the gun really came from a friend of yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do, sir.&rdquo; Gadgem's gimlet eye was worming itself into Temple's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's his name?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gadgem, sir&mdash;John Gadgem, of Gadgem &amp; Coombs&mdash;Gadgem sole
+      survivor, since Coombs is with the angels; the foreclosure having taken
+      place last month: hence these weeds.&rdquo; And he lifted the tails of his black
+      coat in evidence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Out of your own money?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir&mdash;some I had laid away.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George wheeled suddenly and stood looking first at Gadgem, then at
+      Pawson, and last at Todd, as if for confirmation. Then a light broke in
+      upon him&mdash;one that played over his face in uncertain flashes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you did this for me?&rdquo; he asked thoughtfully, fixing his gaze on
+      Gadgem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I did, sir,&rdquo; came the answer in a meek voice, as if he had been detected
+      in filching an apple from a stand; &ldquo;and I would do it again&mdash;do it
+      over and over again. And it has been a great pleasure for me to do it. I
+      might say, sir, that it has been a kind of exTREME bliss to do it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; There was a tremor now in Temple's voice that even Todd had never
+      noticed before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gadgem turned his head away. &ldquo;I don't know, sir,&rdquo; he replied in a lower
+      tone. &ldquo;I couldn't explain it on oath; I don't care to explain it, sir.&rdquo; No
+      lie could serve him now&mdash;better make a clean breast of the villany.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you still own the gun?&rdquo; Todd had never seen his master so gentle
+      before&mdash;not under a provocation such as this.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I do, sir.&rdquo; Gadgem's voice was barely audible.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then it means that you have locked up just that much of your own money
+      for a thing you can never use yourself and can't sell. Am I right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gadgem lowered his head and for a moment studied the carpet. His
+      activities, now that the cat was out of the bag, were fair subjects for
+      discussion, but not his charities.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I prefer not to answer, sir, and&mdash;&rdquo; the last words died in his
+      throat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But it's true, isn't it?&rdquo; persisted St. George. He had never once taken
+      his eyes from Gadgem.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it's true.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George turned on his heel, walked to the mantel, stood for an instant
+      gazing into the empty fireplace, and then, with that same straightening of
+      his shoulders and lift of his head which his friends knew so well when he
+      was deeply stirred, confronted the collector again:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Gadgem!&rdquo; He stopped and caught his breath. For a moment it seemed as if
+      something in his throat choked his utterance. &ldquo;Gadgem&mdash;give me your
+      hand! Do you know you are a gentleman and a thoroughbred! No&mdash;don't
+      speak&mdash;don't explain. We understand each other. Todd, bring three
+      glasses and hand me what is left of the old Port. And do you join us,
+      Pawson.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd, whose eyes had been popping from his head during the entire
+      interview, and who was still amazed at the outcome, suddenly woke to the
+      dangers of the situation: on no account must his master's straits be
+      further revealed. He raised his hand as a signal to St. George, who was
+      still looking into Gadgem's eyes, screwed his face into a tangle of
+      puckers and in a husky whisper muttered, so low that only his master could
+      hear:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dat Port, Marse George&rdquo;&mdash;one eye now went entirely out in a wink&mdash;&ldquo;is
+      gittin' a leetle mite low&rdquo; (there hadn't been a drop of it in the house
+      for six months) &ldquo;an' if&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, then, that old Brown Sherry&mdash;get a fresh bottle, Todd&mdash;&rdquo;
+       St. George was quite honest, and so, for that matter, was Todd: the Brown
+      Sherry had also seen its day.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sah&mdash;but how would dat fine ol' peach brandy de jedge gin ye
+      do? It's sp'ilin' to be tasted, sah.&rdquo; Both eyes were now in eclipse in the
+      effort to apprise his master that with the exception of some badly corked
+      Madeira, Tom Coston's peach brandy was about the only beverage left in the
+      cellar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, the old peach brandy, then&mdash;get it at once and serve it in the
+      large glasses.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      St. George had now reached the last stage of his poverty. The selling or
+      pawning of the few valuables left him had been consummated and with the
+      greatest delicacy, so as best to spare his feelings. That he had been
+      assisted by hitherto unknown friends who had sacrificed their own balances
+      in his behalf, added temporarily to his comforts but did not lessen the
+      gravity of the present situation. The fact remained that with the
+      exception of a few possible assets he was practically penniless. Every old
+      debt that could be collected&mdash;and Gadgem had been a scourge and a
+      flaming sword as the weeks went on in their gathering&mdash;had been
+      rounded up. Even his minor interests in two small ground rents had, thanks
+      to Pawson, been cashed some years in advance. His available resources were
+      now represented by some guns, old books, bridles, another saddle, his rare
+      Chinese punch-bowl and its teakwood stand, and a few remaining odds and
+      ends.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He could hope for no payment from the Patapsco&mdash;certainly not for
+      some years; nor could he raise money even on these hopes, the general
+      opinion being that despite the efforts of John Gorsuch, Rutter, and
+      Harding to punish the guilty and resuscitate the innocent, the bank would
+      finally collapse without a cent being paid the depositors. As for that old
+      family suit, it had been in the courts for forty-odd years and it was
+      likely to be there forty-odd years more before a penny would be realized
+      from the settlement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Had he been differently constructed&mdash;he a man with scores and scores
+      of friends, many of whom would gladly have helped him&mdash;he might have
+      made his wants known; but such was not his make-up. The men to whom he
+      could apply&mdash;men like Horn, the archdeacon, Murdoch, and one or two
+      others&mdash;had no money of their own to spare, and as for wealthier men&mdash;men
+      like Rutter and Harding&mdash;starvation itself would be preferable to an
+      indebtedness of that kind. Then again, he did not want his poverty known.
+      He had defied Talbot Rutter, and had practically shown him the door when
+      the colonel doubted his ability to pay Harry's debts and still live, and
+      no humiliation would be greater than to see Rutter's satisfaction over his
+      abject surrender. No&mdash;if the worst came to the worst, he would slip
+      back to Wesley, where he was always welcome and take up the practice of
+      the law, which he had abandoned since his father's death, and thus earn
+      money enough not to be a burden to Peggy. In the meantime something might
+      turn up. Perhaps another of Gadgem's thumb-screws could be fastened on
+      some delinquent and thus extort a drop or two; or the bank might begin
+      paying ten per cent.; or another prepayment might be squeezed out of a
+      ground rent. If none of these things turned out to his advantage, then
+      Gadgem and Pawson must continue their search for customers who would have
+      the rare opportunity of purchasing, direct &ldquo;from the private collection of
+      a gentleman,&rdquo; etc., etc., &ldquo;one first-class English saddle,&rdquo; etc., etc.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The meantime,&rdquo; however, brought no relief. Indeed so acute had the
+      financial strain become that another and a greater sacrifice&mdash;one
+      that fairly cut his heart in two&mdash;faced him&mdash;the parting with
+      his dogs. That four mouths besides his own and Todd's were too many to
+      feed had of late become painfully evident. He might send them to Wesley of
+      course, but then he remembered that no one at Tom Coston's ever had a gun
+      in their hands, and they would only be a charge and a nuisance to Peggy.
+      Or he might send them up into Carroll County to a farmer friend, but in
+      that case he would have to pay their keep, and he needed the money for
+      those at home. And so he waited and pondered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A coachman from across the park solved the difficulty a day or two later
+      with a whispered word in Todd's ear, which set the boy's temper ablaze&mdash;for
+      he dearly loved the dogs himself&mdash;until he had talked it over with
+      Pawson and Gadgem, and had then broken the news to his master as best he
+      could.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dem dogs is eatin' dere haids off,&rdquo; he began, fidgeting about the table,
+      brushing the crumbs on to a tray only to spill half of them on the floor&mdash;&ldquo;an'
+      Mister Floyd's coachman done say dat his young marster's jes' a-dyin' for
+      'em an' don't cyar what he pay for 'em, dat is if ye&mdash;&rdquo; but St.
+      George cut him short.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did you say, Todd?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why dat young marster dat's jes' come up f'om Ann'rundel&mdash;got mo'
+      money den he kin th'ow 'way I yere.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And they are eating their heads off, are they?&mdash;and he wants to swap
+      his dirty money for my&mdash;Yes&mdash;I know. They think they can buy
+      anything with a banknote. And its Floe and Dandy and Sue and Rupert, is
+      it? And I'm to sell them&mdash;I who have slept with them and ate with
+      them and hugged them a thousand times. Of course they eat their heads off.
+      Yes&mdash;don't say another word. Send them up one at a time&mdash;Floe
+      first!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The scene that followed always lingered in his mind. For days thereafter
+      he could not mention their name, even to Todd, without the tears springing
+      to his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Up the kitchen flight they tumbled&mdash;not one at a time, but all in a
+      scramble, bounding straight at him, slobbering all over his face and
+      hands, their paws scraping his clothes&mdash;each trying to climb into his
+      lap&mdash;big Gordon setters, all four. He swept them off and ranged them
+      in a row before his arm-chair with their noses flat to the carpet, their
+      brown agate eyes following his every movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd says you eat too much, you damned rascals!&rdquo; he cried in enforced
+      gayety, leaning forward, shaking his finger in their faces. &ldquo;What the
+      devil do you mean, coming into a gentleman's private apartments and eating
+      him out of house and home!&mdash;and that's what you're doing. I'm going
+      to sell you!&mdash;do you hear that?&mdash;sell you to some stingy
+      curmudgeon who'll starve you to death, and that's what you deserve!...
+      Come here, Floe&mdash;you dear old doggie, you&mdash;nice Floe!... Here,
+      Dandy&mdash;Rupert&mdash;Sue!&rdquo; They were all in his arms, their cold noses
+      snuggled under his warm chin. But this time he didn't care what they did
+      to his clothes&mdash;nor what he did to them. He was alone; Todd had gone
+      down to the kitchen&mdash;only he and the four companions so dear to his
+      heart. &ldquo;Come here, you imp of the devil,&rdquo; he continued, rubbing Floe's
+      ears&mdash;he loved her best&mdash;pinching her nose until her teeth
+      showed; patting her flanks, crooning over her as a woman would over a
+      child, talking to himself all the time. &ldquo;I wonder if Floyd will be good to
+      them! If I thought he wouldn't I'd rather starve than&mdash;No&mdash;I
+      reckon it's all right&mdash;he's got plenty of room and plenty of people
+      to look after them.&rdquo; Then he rose from his chair and drew his hand across
+      his forehead. &ldquo;Got to sell my dogs, eh? Turned traitor, have you, Mr.
+      Temple, and gone back on your best friends? By God! I wonder what will
+      come next?&rdquo; He strode across the room, rang for Todd, and bending down
+      loosened a collar from Dandy's neck, on which his own name was engraved,
+      &ldquo;St. George Wilmot Temple, Esquire.&rdquo; &ldquo;Esquire, eh?&rdquo; he muttered, reading
+      the plate. &ldquo;What a damned lie! Property of a pauper living on pawnshops
+      and a bill collector! Nice piece of business, St. George&mdash;fine record
+      for your blood and breeding! Ah, Todd&mdash;that you? Well, take them
+      downstairs and send word to Mr. Floyd's man to call for them to-night, and
+      when you come back I'll have a letter ready for you. Come here, you
+      rascals, and let me hug one or two of you. Good Floe&mdash;good doggie.&rdquo;
+       Then the long-fought choke in his throat strangled him. &ldquo;Take them away,
+      Todd,&rdquo; he said in a husky voice, straightening his shoulders as if the
+      better to get his breath, and with a deep indrawn sigh walked slowly into
+      his bedroom and shut the door behind him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Half an hour later there followed a short note, written on one of his few
+      remaining sheets of English paper, addressed to the new owner, in which he
+      informed that gentleman that he bespoke for his late companions the same
+      care and attention which he had always given them himself, and which they
+      so richly deserved, and which he felt sure they would continue to receive
+      while in the service of his esteemed and honored correspondent. This he
+      sealed in wax and stamped with his crest; and this was duly delivered by
+      Todd&mdash;and so the painful incident had come to an end.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dogs disposed of, there still remained to him another issue to meet&mdash;the
+      wages he owed Jemima. Although she had not allowed the subject to pass her
+      lips&mdash;not even to Todd&mdash;St. George knew that she needed the
+      money&mdash;she being a free woman and her earnings her own&mdash;not a
+      master's. He had twice before determined to set aside enough money from
+      former cash receipts to liquidate Jemima's debt&mdash;once from the
+      proceeds of Gadgem's gun and again from what Floyd paid him for the dogs&mdash;but
+      Todd had insisted with such vehemence that he needed it for the marketing,
+      that he had let it go over.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The one remaining object of real value was the famous loving-cup. With
+      this turned into money he would be able to pay Jemima in full. For days he
+      debated the matter with himself, putting the question in a dozen different
+      lights: it was not really HIS cup, but belonged to the family, he being
+      only its custodian; it would reflect on his personal honor if he traded so
+      distinguished a gift&mdash;one marking the esteem in which his dead father
+      had been held, etc. Then the round, good-natured face and bent figure of
+      his old stand-by and comfort&mdash;who had worked for him and for his
+      father almost all her life&mdash;rose before him, she bending over her
+      tubs earning the bread to keep her alive, and with this picture in his
+      mind all his fine-spun theories vanished into thin air. Todd was summoned
+      and thus the last connecting link between the past and present was broken
+      and the precious heirloom turned over to Kirk, the silversmith, who the
+      next day found a purchaser with one of the French secretaries in
+      Washington, a descendant of the marquis.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the whole of the purchase money in his hands and his mind firmly made
+      up he rang for his servant:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come along, Todd&mdash;show me where Aunt Jemima lives&mdash;it's
+      somewhere down by the market, I hear&mdash;I'm going now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The darky's face got as near white as his skin would allow: this was the
+      last thing he had expected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dat ain't no fit place for ye, Marse George,&rdquo; he stammered. &ldquo;I'll go an'
+      git her an' bring her up; she tol' me when I carried dat las' washin' down
+      she wuz a-comin' dis week.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, her sister is sick and she is needed where she is. Get your basket
+      and come along&mdash;you can do your marketing down there. Bring me my hat
+      and cane. What's the matter with her sister, do you know?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the darky hedged: &ldquo;Dunno, sah&mdash;some kin' o' mis'ry in her back
+      I reckon. Las' time Aunt Jemima was yere she say de doctor 'lowed her
+      kittens was 'fected.&rdquo; (It was another invalid limping past the front steps
+      who had put that in his head.)
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George roared: &ldquo;Well, whatever she's got, I'm going to pay my respects
+      to her; I've neglected Aunt Jemima too long. No&mdash;my best hat&mdash;don't
+      forget that I'm going to call on a very distinguished colored lady. Come,
+      out with it. How far does she live from the market?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jes' 'bout's far's from yere to de church. Is you gwine now? I got a heap
+      o' cleanin' ter do&mdash;dem steps is all gormed up, dey's dat dirty.
+      Maybe we better go when&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not another word out of you! I'm going now.&rdquo; He could feel the money in
+      his pocket and he could not wait. &ldquo;Get your basket.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd led the way and the two crossed the park and struck out for the lower
+      part of the city, near Jones Falls, into a district surrounded by one-and
+      two-story houses inhabited by the poorer class of whites and the more
+      well-to-do free negroes. Here the streets, especially those which ran to
+      the wharves, were narrow and ill-paved, their rough cobbles being often
+      obstructed by idle drays, heavy anchors, and rusting anchor-chains, all on
+      free storage. Up one of these crooked streets, screened from the brick
+      sidewalk by a measly wooden fence, stood a two-story wooden house, its
+      front yard decorated with clothes-lines running criss-cross from thumbs of
+      fence-posts to fingers of shutters&mdash;a sort of cat's-cradle along
+      whose meshes Aunt Jemima hung her wet clothes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On this particular day what was left of St. George Temple's wardrobe and
+      bed linen, with the exception of what that gentleman had on his back, was
+      either waving in the cool air of the morning or being clothes-pinned so
+      that it might wave later on.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd's anxious face was the first to thrust itself from around the corner
+      of a sagging, sloppy sheet. The two had entered the gate in the fence at
+      the same moment, but St. George had been lost in the maze of dripping
+      linen.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Go'way f'om dar, you fool nigger, mussin' up my wash! Keep yo' black haid
+      off'er dem sheets, I tell ye, 'fo' I smack ye! An' ye needn't come down
+      yere a-sassin' me 'bout Marse George's clo'es, 'cause dey ain't done&mdash;&rdquo;
+       (here Temple's head came into view, his face in a broad smile). &ldquo;Well, fer
+      de lan's sakes, Marse George. What ye come down yere fer? Here&mdash;lemme
+      git dat basket outer yo' way&mdash;No, dem hands ain't fit fer nobody to
+      shake&mdash;My!&mdash;but I's mighty glad ter see ye! Don't tell me ye
+      come fer dat wash&mdash;I been so pestered wid de weather&mdash;nothin'
+      don't dry.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had dodged a wet sheet and had the old woman by the hand now, her face
+      in a broad grin at sight of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, aunty&mdash;I came down to pay you some money.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't owe me no money&mdash;leastwise you don't owe me nothin' till
+      ye kin pay it,&rdquo; and she darted an annihilating glance at Todd.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I do&mdash;but let me see where you live. What a fine place&mdash;plenty
+      of room except on wash-days. All those mine?&mdash;I didn't know I had
+      that many clothes left. Pick up that basket, Todd, and bring it in for
+      aunty.&rdquo; The two made their way between the wet linen and found themselves
+      in front of the dwelling. &ldquo;And is this all yours?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;De fust flo' front an 'back is mine an' de top flo' I rents out. Got a
+      white man in dere now dat works in de lumber yard. Jes' come up an' see
+      how I fixed it up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And tell me about your sister&mdash;is she better?&rdquo; he continued.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The old woman put her arms akimbo: &ldquo;Lawd bress ye, Marse George!&mdash;who
+      done tol' ye dat fool lie! I ain't got no sister&mdash;not yere!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, I thought you couldn't come back to me because you had to nurse some
+      member of your family who had kittens, or some such misery in her spine&mdash;wasn't
+      that it, Todd?&rdquo; said St. George trying to conceal a smile.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd shot a beseeching look at Jemima to confirm his picturesque yarn, but
+      the old woman would have none of it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dere ain't been nobody to tek care ob but des me. I come yere 'cause I
+      knowed ye didn't hab no money to keep me, an' I got back de ol' furniture
+      what I had fo' I come to lib wid ye, an' went to washin', an' if dat
+      yaller skunk's been tellin' any lies 'bout me I'm gwineter wring his
+      neck.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, let Todd alone,&rdquo; laughed St. George, his heart warming to the old
+      woman at this further proof of her love for him. &ldquo;The Lord has already
+      forgiven him that lie, and so have I. And now what have you got upstairs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They had mounted the steps by this time and St. George was peering into a
+      clean, simply furnished room. &ldquo;First rate, aunty&mdash;your lumber-yard
+      man is in luck. And now put that in your pocket,&rdquo; and he handed her the
+      package.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What's dis?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nearly half a year's wages.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I ain't gwineter take it,&rdquo; she snapped back in a positive tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George laid his hand tenderly on the old woman's shoulder. She had
+      served him faithfully for many years and he was very fond of her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Tuck it in your bosom, aunty&mdash;it should have been paid long ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She looked at him shrewdly: &ldquo;Did de bank pay ye yit, Marse George?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      No
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Den I ain't gwineter tech it&mdash;I ain't gwineter tech a fip ob it!&rdquo;
+       she exploded. &ldquo;How I know ye ain't a-sufferin' fer it! See dat wash?&mdash;an'
+      I got anudder room to rent if I'm min' ter scrunch up a leetle mo'. I kin
+      git 'long.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George's hand again tightened on her shoulder.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take it when you can get it, aunty,&rdquo; he said in a more serious tone, and
+      turning on his heel joined Todd below, leaving the old woman in tears at
+      the top of the stairs, the money on her limp outspread fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All the way back to his home&mdash;they had stopped to replenish the
+      larder at the market&mdash;St. George kept up his spirits. Absurd as it
+      was&mdash;he a man tottering on the brink of dire poverty&mdash;the
+      situation from his stand-point was far from perilous. He had discharged
+      the one debt that had caused him the most anxiety&mdash;the money due the
+      faithful old cook; he had a basketful of good things&mdash;among them half
+      a dozen quail and three diamond-back terrapin&mdash;the cheapest food in
+      the market&mdash;and he had funds left for his immediate wants.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With this feeling of contentment permeating his mind something of the old
+      feeling of independence, with its indifference toward the dollar and what
+      it meant and could bring him, welled up in his heart. For a time at least
+      the spectre of debt lay hidden. A certain old-time happiness began to show
+      itself in his face and bearing. So evident was this that before many days
+      had passed even Todd noticed the return of his old buoyancy, and so felt
+      privileged to discuss his own feelings, now that the secret of their mode
+      of earning a common livelihood was no longer a bugbear to his master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dem taters what we got outer de extry sterrups of dat ridin'-saddle is
+      mos' gone,&rdquo; he ventured one morning at breakfast, when the remains of the
+      cup money had reached a low ebb. &ldquo;Shall I tote de udder saddle down to dat
+      Gadgem man&rdquo;&mdash;(he never called him anything else, although of late he
+      had conceived a marked respect for the collector)&mdash;&ldquo;or shall I keep
+      it fer some mo' sugar?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What else is short, Todd?&rdquo; said St. George, good-naturedly, helping
+      himself to another piece of corn bread.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, dere's plenty ob dose decanter crackers and de pair ob andirons is
+      still holdin' out wid de mango pickles an' de cheese, but dat pair ob
+      ridin'-boots is mos' gone. We got half barrel ob flour an' a bag o'
+      coffee, ye 'member, wid dem boots. I done seen some smoked herrin' in de
+      market yisterday mawnin' 'd go mighty good wid de buckwheat cakes an'
+      sugar-house 'lasses&mdash;only we ain't got no 'lasses. I was a-thinkin'
+      dem two ol' cheers in de garret 'd come in handy; ain't nobody sot in em
+      since I been yere; de bottoms is outen one o' dem, but de legs an' backs
+      is good 'nough fer a quart o' 'lasses. I kin take 'em down to de same
+      place dat Gadgem man tol' me to take de big brass shovel an' tongs&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, Todd,&rdquo; rejoined St. George, highly amused at the boy's
+      economic resources. &ldquo;Anything that Mr. Gadgem recommends I agree to. Yes&mdash;take
+      him the chairs&mdash;both of them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Even the men at the club had noticed the change and congratulated him on
+      his good spirits. None of them knew of his desperate straits, although
+      many of them had remarked on the differences in his hospitality, while
+      some of the younger gallants&mdash;men who made a study of the height and
+      roll of the collars of their coats and the latest cut of waistcoats&mdash;especially
+      the increased width of the frogs on the lapels&mdash;had whispered to each
+      other that Temple's clothes certainly needed overhauling; more
+      particularly his shirts, which were much the worse for wear: one critic
+      laying the seeming indifference to the carelessness of a man who was
+      growing old; another shaking his head with the remark that it was Poole's
+      bill which was growing old&mdash;older by a good deal than the clothes,
+      and that it would have to be patched and darned with one of old George
+      Brown's (the banker's) scraps of paper before the wearer could regain his
+      reputation of being the best-dressed man in or out of the club.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      None of these lapses from his former well-to-do estate made any
+      difference, however, to St. George's intimates when it came to the
+      selection of important guests for places at table or to assist in the
+      success of some unusual function. Almost every one in and around Kennedy
+      Square had been crippled in their finances by the failure, not only of the
+      Patapsco, but by kindred institutions, during the preceding few years.
+      Why, then, they argued, should any one criticise such economies as Temple
+      was practising? He was still living in his house with his servants&mdash;one
+      or two less, perhaps&mdash;but still in comfort, and if he did not
+      entertain as heretofore, what of it? His old love of sport, as was shown
+      by his frequent visits to his estates on the Eastern Shore, might account
+      for some of the changes in his hospitable habits, there not being money
+      enough to keep up establishments both in country and town. These changes,
+      of course, could only be temporary. His properties on the peninsula&mdash;(almost
+      everybody had &ldquo;properties&rdquo; in those days, whether imaginary or real)&mdash;would
+      come up some day, and then all would be well again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The House of Seymour was particularly in the dark. The Honorable Prim, in
+      his dense ignorance, had even asked St. George to join in one of his
+      commercial enterprises&mdash;the building of a new clipper ship&mdash;while
+      Kate, who had never waited five minutes in all her life for anything that
+      a dollar could buy, had begged a subscription for a charity she was
+      managing, and which she received with a kiss and a laugh, and without a
+      moment's hesitation, from a purse shrinking steadily by the hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Only when some idle jest or well-meant inquiry diverted his mind to the
+      chain of events leading up to Harry's exile was his insistent cheerfulness
+      under his fast accumulating misfortunes ever checked.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd was the cruel disturber on this particular day, with a bit of
+      information which, by reason of its source, St. George judged must be
+      true, and which because of its import brought him infinite pain.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Purty soon we won't hab 'nough spoons to stir a toddy wid,&rdquo; Todd had
+      begun. &ldquo;I tell ye, Marse George, dey ain't none o' dem gwine down in dere
+      pockets till de constable gits 'em. I jes' wish Marse Harry was yere&mdash;he'd
+      fix 'em. 'Fo' dey knowed whar dey wuz he'd hab 'em full o' holes. Dat
+      red-haided, no-count gemman what's a-makin up to Miss Kate is gwineter git
+      her fo' sho&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      It was here that St. George had raised his head, his heart in his mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you know, Todd?&rdquo; he asked in a serious tone. He had long since
+      ceased correcting Todd for his oustpoken reflections on Kate's suitor as a
+      useless expenditure of time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;'Cause Mammy Henny done tol' Aunt Jemima so&mdash;an' she purty nigh
+      cried her eyes out when she said it. Ye ain't heared nothin' 'bout Marse
+      Harry comin' home, is ye?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;not a word&mdash;not for many months, Todd. He's up in the
+      mountains, so his mother tells me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Whereupon Todd had gulped down an imprecation expressive of his feelings
+      and had gone about his duties, while St. George had buried himself in his
+      easy-chair, his eyes fixed on vacancy, his soul all the more a-hungered
+      for the boy he loved. He wondered where the lad was&mdash;why he hadn't
+      written. Whether the fever had overtaken him and he laid up in some filthy
+      hospital. Almost every week his mother had either come herself or sent in
+      for news, accompanied by messages expressing some new phase of her
+      anxiety. Or had he grown and broadened out and become big and strong?&mdash;whom
+      had he met, and how had they treated him?&mdash;and would he want to leave
+      home again when once he came back? Then, as always, there came a feeling
+      of intense relief. He thanked God that Harry WASN'T at home; a daily
+      witness of the shrinkage of his resources and the shifts to which he was
+      being put. This would be ten times worse for him to bear than the loss of
+      the boy's companionship. Harry would then upbraid him for the sacrifices
+      he had made for him, as if he would not take every step over again! Take
+      them!&mdash;of course he would take them!&mdash;so would any other
+      gentleman. Not to have come to Harry's rescue in that the most critical
+      hour of his life, when he was disowned by his father, rejected by his
+      sweetheart, and hounded by creditors, not one of whom did he justly owe,
+      was unthinkable, absolutely unthinkable, and not worth a moment's
+      consideration.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And so he would sit and muse, his head in his hand, his well-rounded legs
+      stretched toward the fire, his white, shapely fingers tapping the arms of
+      his chair&mdash;each click so many telegraphic records of the workings of
+      his mind.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      With the closing in of the autumn and the coming of the first winter cold,
+      the denizens of Kennedy Square gave themselves over to the season's
+      entertainments. Mrs. Cheston, as was her usual custom, issued invitations
+      for a ball&mdash;this one in honor of the officers who had distinguished
+      themselves in the Mexican War. Major Clayton, Bowdoin, the Murdochs,
+      Stirlings, and Howards&mdash;all persons of the highest quality&mdash;inaugurated
+      a series of chess tournaments, the several players and those who came to
+      look on to be thereafter comforted with such toothsome solids as wild
+      turkey, terrapin, and olio, and such delectable liquids as were stored in
+      the cellars of their hosts. Old Judge Pancoast, yielding to the general
+      demand, gave an oyster roast&mdash;his enormous kitchen being the place of
+      all others for such a function. On this occasion two long wooden tables
+      were scoured to an unprecedented whiteness&mdash;the young girls in white
+      aprons and the young men in white jackets serving as waiters&mdash;and
+      laid with wooden plates, and two big wooden bowls&mdash;one for the hot,
+      sizzling shells just off their bed of hickory coals banked on the kitchen
+      hearth, and the other for the empty ones&mdash;the fun continuing until
+      the wee sma' hours of the morning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The Honorable Prim and his charming daughter, not to be outdone by their
+      neighbors, cleared the front drawing-room of its heavy furniture, covered
+      every inch of the tufted carpet with linen crash, and with old black Jones
+      as fiddler and M. Robinette&mdash;a French exile&mdash;as instructor in
+      the cutting of pigeon wings and the proper turning out of ankles and toes,
+      opened the first of a series of morning soirees for the young folk of the
+      neighborhood, to which were invited not only their mothers, but their
+      black mammies as well.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Mr. and Mrs. Richard Horn, not having any blithesome daughter, nor any
+      full-grown son&mdash;Oliver being but a child of six&mdash;and Richard and
+      his charming wife having long since given up their dancing-slippers&mdash;were
+      good enough to announce&mdash;(and it was astonishing what an excitement
+      it raised)&mdash;that &ldquo;On the Monday night following Mr. Horn would read
+      aloud, to such of his friends as would do him the honor of being present,
+      the latest Christmas story by Mr. Charles Dickens, entitled 'The Cricket
+      on the Hearth.'&rdquo; For this occasion Mr. Kennedy had loaned him his own
+      copy, one of the earliest bound volumes, bearing on its fly-leaf an
+      inscription in the great master's own handwriting in which he thanked the
+      distinguished author of &ldquo;Swallow Barn&rdquo; for the many kindnesses he had
+      shown him during his visit to America, and begged his indulgence for his
+      third attempt to express between covers the sentiment and feeling of the
+      Christmas season.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not that this was an unusual form of entertainment, nor one that excited
+      special comment. Almost every neighborhood had its morning (and often its
+      evening) &ldquo;Readings,&rdquo; presided over by some one who read well and without
+      fatigue&mdash;some sweet old maid, perhaps, who knew how to grow old
+      gracefully. At these times a table would be rolled into the library by the
+      deferential servant of the house, on which he would place the dear lady's
+      spectacles and a book, its ivory marker showing where the last reading had
+      ended&mdash;it might be Prescott's &ldquo;Ferdinand and Isabella,&rdquo; or Irving's
+      &ldquo;Granada,&rdquo; or Thackeray's &ldquo;Vanity Fair,&rdquo; or perhaps, Dickens's &ldquo;Martin
+      Chuzzlewit.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At eleven o'clock the girls would begin to arrive, each one bringing her
+      needle-work of some kind&mdash;worsted, or embroidery, or knitting&mdash;something
+      she could manage without discomfort to herself or anybody about her, and
+      when the last young lady was in her seat, the same noiseless darky would
+      tiptoe in and take his place behind the old maid's chair. Then he would
+      slip a stool under her absurdly small slippers and tiptoe out again,
+      shutting the door behind him as quietly as if he found the dear lady
+      asleep&mdash;and so the reading would begin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A reading by Richard, however, was always an event of unusual importance,
+      and an invitation to be present was never declined whether received by
+      letter or by word of mouth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George had been looking forward eagerly to the night, and when the
+      shadows began to fall in his now almost bare bedroom, he sent for Todd to
+      help him dress.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Have you got a shirt for me, Todd?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Got seben oh 'em. Dey wants a li'l' trimmin' roun' de aidges, but I
+      reckon we kin make 'em do&mdash;Aunt Jemima sont 'em home dis mawnin'.
+      She's been a-workin' on 'em, she says. Looks ter me like a goat had a
+      moufful outer dis yere sleeve, but I dassent tell er so. Lot o' dem
+      butters wanderin' roun' dat Marsh market lookin' fer sumpin' to eat; lemme
+      gib dem boots anudder tech.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd skipped downstairs with the boots and St. George continued dressing;
+      selecting his best and most becoming scarf; pinning down the lapels of his
+      buff waistcoat; scissoring the points of his high collar, and with Todd's
+      assistance working his arms between the slits in the silk lining of the
+      sleeves of his blue cloth, brass-buttoned coat, which he finally pulled
+      into place across his chest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And a well-dressed man he was in spite of the frayed edges of his collar
+      and shirt ruffles and the shiny spots in his trousers and coat where the
+      nap was worn smooth, nor was there any man of his age who wore his clothes
+      as well, no matter what their condition, or one who made so debonair an
+      appearance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson was of that opinion to-night when St. George, his toilet complete,
+      joined him at the bottom of the stairs. Indeed he thought he had never
+      seen his client look better&mdash;a discovery which sent a spasm of
+      satisfaction through his long body, for he had a piece of important news
+      to tell him, and had been trying all day to make up his mind how best to
+      break it.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You look younger, Mr. Temple,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;and, if you will allow me to
+      say so, handsomer, every day. Your trip to the Eastern Shore last spring
+      did you no end of good,&rdquo; and the young attorney crooked his long neck and
+      elevated his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth in the effort to give
+      to his sinuous body a semblance of mirth.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, Pawson,&rdquo; bowed St. George, graciously. &ldquo;You are really most
+      kind, but that is because you are stone blind. My shirt is full of holes,
+      and it is quite likely I shall have to stand all the evening for fear of
+      splitting the knees of my breeches. Come&mdash;out with it&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      laughed&mdash;&ldquo;there is something you have to tell me or you would not be
+      waiting for me here at this hour in the cold hall.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson smiled faintly, then his eyebrows lost their identity in some
+      well-defined wrinkles in his forehead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have, sir, a most unpleasant thing to tell you&mdash;a very unpleasant
+      thing. When I tried this morning for a few days' grace on that last
+      overdue payment, the agent informed me, to my great surprise, that Mr.
+      John Gorsuch had bought the mortgage and would thereafter collect the
+      interest in person. I am not sure, of course, but I am afraid Colonel
+      Rutter is behind the purchase. If he is we must be prepared to face the
+      worst should he still feel toward you as he did when you and he&rdquo;&mdash;and
+      he jerked his thumb meaningly in the direction of the dining-room&mdash;&ldquo;had
+      it out&mdash;in there.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George compressed his lips. &ldquo;And so Rutter holds the big end of the
+      whip after all, does he?&rdquo; he exclaimed with some heat. &ldquo;He will find the
+      skin on my back not a very valuable asset, but he is welcome to it. He has
+      about everything else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I'd rather pay it somehow if we could,&rdquo; rejoined Pawson in a furtive
+      way&mdash;as if he had something up his sleeve he dare not spring upon
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;of course you would,&rdquo; retorted St. George with a cynical laugh,
+      slipping on his gloves. &ldquo;Pay it?&mdash;of course pay it. Pay everything
+      and everybody! What do you think I'd bring at auction, Pawson? I'm white,
+      you know, and so I can't be sold on the block&mdash;but the doctors might
+      offer you a trifle for cutting-up purposes. Bah! Hand me my coat, Todd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A deprecatory smile flitted across the long, thin face of the attorney. He
+      saw that St. George was in no mood for serious things, and yet something
+      must be done; certainly before the arrival of Gorsuch himself, who was
+      known to be an exact man of business and who would have his rights, no
+      matter who suffered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had a little plan, sir&mdash;but you might not fall in with it. It
+      would, perhaps, be only temporary, but it is all I can think of. I had an
+      applicant this morning&mdash;in fact it came within an hour after I had
+      heard the news. It seemed almost providential, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George was facing the door, ready to leave the house, his shoulders
+      still bent forward so that Todd could adjust his heavy cloak the better,
+      when for the first time the anxious tone in Pawson's voice caught his
+      attention. As the words fell from the attorney's lips he straightened, and
+      Todd stepped back, the garment still in the darky's hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An applicant for what?&rdquo; he inquired in a graver tone. He was not
+      surprised&mdash;nothing surprised him in these days&mdash;he was only
+      curious.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For the rooms you occupy. I can get enough for them, sir, not only to
+      clear up the back interest, but to keep the mortgage alive and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George's face paled as the full meaning of Pawson's proposal dawned in
+      his mind. That was the last thing he had expected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Turn me into the street, eh?&rdquo; There was a note of pained surprise in his
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't want you to put it that way, sir.&rdquo; His heart really bled for him&mdash;it
+      was all he could do to control himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How the devil else can I put it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I thought you might want to do a little shooting, sir.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shooting! What with? One of Gadgem's guns? Hire it of him, eh, and steal
+      the powder and shot!&rdquo; he cried savagely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;if you saw fit, sir. Gadgem, I am sure, would be most willing,
+      and you can always get plenty of ammunition. Anyway, you might pass a few
+      months with your kinsfolk on the Eastern Shore, whether you hunted or not;
+      it did you so much good before. The winter here is always wearing, sloppy
+      and wet. I've heard you say so repeatedly.&rdquo; He had not taken his eyes from
+      his face; he knew this was St. George's final stage, and he knew too that
+      he would never again enter the home he loved; but this last he could not
+      tell him outright. He would rather have cut his right hand off than tell
+      him at all. Being even the humblest instrument in the exiling of a man
+      like St. George Wilmot Temple was in itself a torture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when do you want me to quit?&rdquo; he said calmly. &ldquo;I suppose I can
+      evacuate like an officer and a gentleman and carry my side-arms with me&mdash;my
+      father's cane, for instance, that I can neither sell nor pawn, and a case
+      of razors which are past sharpening?&rdquo; and his smile broadened as the humor
+      of the thing stole over him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sir, it ought to be done,&rdquo; continued Pawson in his most serious
+      tone, ignoring the sacrifice&mdash;(there was nothing funny in the
+      situation to the attorney)&mdash;&ldquo;well&mdash;I should say&mdash;right
+      away. To-morrow, perhaps. This news of Gorsuch has come very sudden, you
+      know. If I can show him that the new tenant has moved in already he might
+      wait until his first month's rent was paid. You see that&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, yes, Pawson, I see&mdash;see it all clear as day,&rdquo; interrupted St.
+      George&mdash;&ldquo;have been seeing it for some months past, although neither
+      you nor Gadgem seem to have been aware of that fact.&rdquo; This came with so
+      grave a tone that Pawson raised his eyes inquiringly. &ldquo;And who is this
+      man,&rdquo; Temple went on, &ldquo;who wants to step into my shoes? Be sure you tell
+      him they are half-soled,&rdquo; and he held up one boot. He might want to dance
+      or hunt in them&mdash;and his toes would be out the first thing he knew.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is Mr. Gorsuch's attorney, sir, a Mr. Fogbin,&rdquo; Pawson answered,
+      omitting any reference to the boots and still concerned over the gravity
+      of the situation. &ldquo;He did some work once for Colonel Rutter, and that's
+      how Gorsuch got hold of him. That's why I suspect the colonel. This would
+      make the interest sure, you see&mdash;rather a sly game, is it not, sir?
+      One I did not expect.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George pondered for a moment, and his eye fell on his servant.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what will I do with Todd?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The darky's eyes had been rolling round in his head as the talk continued,
+      Pawson, knowing how leaky he was, having told him nothing of the impending
+      calamity for fear he would break it to his master in the wrong way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I should say take him with you,&rdquo; came the positive answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take him with me! You didn't think I would be separated from him, did
+      you?&rdquo; cried St. George, indignantly, the first note of positive anger he
+      had yet shown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't think anything about it, sir,&rdquo; and he looked at Todd
+      apologetically.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, after this please remember, Mr. Pawson, that where I go Todd goes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The darky leaned forward as if to seize St. George's hand; his eyes filled
+      and his lips began to tremble. He would rather have died than have left
+      his master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George walked to the door, threw it open, and stood for an instant,
+      his eyes fixed on the bare trees in the park. He turned and faced the two
+      again:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Marse George&mdash;&rdquo; Two hot ragged tears still lingered on the
+      darky's eyelids.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To-day is Monday, is it not?&mdash;and to-morrow is boat day?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Marse George,&rdquo; came the trembling answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All right, Pawson, I'll go. Let Talbot Rutter have the rest&mdash;he's
+      welcome to it. Now for my cloak, Todd&mdash;so&mdash;and my neckerchief
+      and cane. Thank you very much, Pawson. You have been very kind about it
+      all, and I know quite well what it has cost you to tell me this. You can't
+      help&mdash;neither can I&mdash;neither, for that matter, can Gorsuch&mdash;nor
+      is it his fault. It is Rutter's, and he will one day get his reckoning.
+      Good-night&mdash;don't sit up too late. I am going to Mr. Horn's to spend
+      the evening. Walk along with me through the Park, Todd, so I can talk to
+      you. And, Todd,&rdquo; he continued when they had entered the path and were
+      bending their steps to the Horn house, &ldquo;I want you to gather together
+      to-morrow what are left of my clothes and pack them in one of those hair
+      trunks upstairs&mdash;and your own things in another. Never mind about
+      waiting for the wash. I'm going down to Aunt Jemima's myself in the
+      morning and will fix it so she can send the rest to me later on. I owe her
+      a small balance and must see her once more before I leave. Now go home and
+      get to bed; you have been losing too much sleep of late.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet he was not cast down, nor did his courage fail him. Long before
+      the darky's obedient figure had disappeared his natural buoyancy had again
+      asserted itself&mdash;or perhaps the philosophy which always sustains a
+      true gentleman in his hour of need had come to his assistance. He fully
+      realized what this last cowardly blow meant. One after another his several
+      belongings had vanished: his priceless family heirlooms; his dogs; and now
+      the home of his ancestors. He was even denied further shelter within its
+      walls. But there were no regrets; his conscience still sustained him; he
+      would live it all over again. In his determination to keep to his
+      standards he had tried to stop a freshet with a shovelful of clay; that
+      was all. It was a foolhardy attempt, no doubt, but he would have been
+      heartily ashamed of himself if he had not made the effort. Wesley, of
+      course, was not a very exciting place in which to spend the winter, but it
+      was better than being under obligations to Talbot Rutter; and then he
+      could doubtless earn enough at the law to pay his board&mdash;at least he
+      would try.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had reached the end of the walk and had already caught the glow of the
+      overhead lantern in the hall of the Horn mansion lighting up the varied
+      costumes of the guests as Malachi swung back the front door, revealing the
+      girls in their pink and white nubias, the gallants in long cloaks with
+      scarlet linings, the older men in mufflers, and the mothers and
+      grandmothers in silk hoods. There was no question of Richard's popularity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Clar to goodness, Marse George, you is a sight for sore eyes,&rdquo; cried
+      Malachi, unhooking the clasp of the velvet collar and helping him off with
+      his cloak. &ldquo;I ain't never seen ye looking spryer! Yes, sah, Marse
+      Richard's inside and he'll be mighty glad ye come. Yes&mdash;jedge&mdash;jes's
+      soon as I&mdash;Dat's it, mistis&mdash;I'll take dat shawl&mdash;No, sah,
+      Marse Richard ain't begun yit. Dis way, ladies,&rdquo; and so it had gone on
+      since the opening rat-a-tat-tat on the old brass knocker had announced the
+      arrival of the first guest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor was there any question that everybody who could by any possibility
+      have availed themselves of Richard's invitation had put in an appearance.
+      Most of the men from the club known to these pages were present, together
+      with their wives and children&mdash;those who were old enough to sit up
+      late; and Nathan Gill, without his flute this time, but with ears wide
+      open&mdash;he was beginning to get gray, was Nathan, although he wouldn't
+      admit it; and Miss Virginia Clendenning in high waist and voluminous
+      skirts, fluffy side curls, and a new gold chain for her eyeglasses&mdash;gold
+      rims, too, of course&mdash;not to mention the Murdochs, Stirlings,
+      Gatchells, Captain Warfield and his daughter, Bowdoin, and Purviance. They
+      were all there; everybody, in fact, who could squeeze inside the
+      drawing-room; while those who couldn't filled the hall and even the stairs&mdash;wherever
+      Richard's voice could be heard.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George edged into the packed room, swept his glance over the throng,
+      and made his way through the laughing groups, greeting every one right and
+      left, old and young, as he moved&mdash;a kiss here on the upturned cheek
+      of some pretty girl whom he had carried in his arms when a baby; a
+      caressing pat of approbation on some young gallant's shoulder; a bend of
+      the head in respectful homage to those he knew but slightly&mdash;the
+      Baroness de Trobiand, Mrs. Cheston's friend, being one of them; a hearty
+      hand held out to the men who had been away for the summer&mdash;interrupted
+      now and then by some such sally from a young bride as&mdash;&ldquo;Oh, you mean
+      Uncle George! No&mdash;I'm not going to love you any more! You promised
+      you would come to my party and you didn't, and my cotillon was all
+      spoiled!&rdquo; or a&mdash;&ldquo;Why, Temple, you dear man!-I'm so glad to see you!
+      Don't forget my dinner on Thursday. The Secretary is coming and I want you
+      to sit between him and Lord Atherton&rdquo;&mdash;a sort of triumphal
+      procession, really&mdash;until he reached the end of the room and stood at
+      Kate's side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, sweetheart!&rdquo; he cried gayly, caressing her soft hand before his
+      fingers closed over it. Then his face hardened. &ldquo;Ah, Mr. Willits! So you,
+      too, must come under the spell of Mr. Horn's voice,&rdquo; and without waiting
+      for a reply continued as if nothing had interrupted the joy of his
+      greeting. &ldquo;You should sit down somewhere, my dear Kate&mdash;get as near
+      to Richard as you can, so you can watch his face&mdash;that's the best
+      part of it. And I should advise you, too, Mr. Willits, to miss none of his
+      words&mdash;it will be something you will remember all your life.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate looked up in his face with a satisfied smile. She was more than glad
+      that her Uncle George was so gracious to her escort, especially to-night
+      when he was to meet a good many people for the first time.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'll take the stool, then, dear Uncle George,&rdquo; she answered with a merry
+      laugh. &ldquo;Go get it, please, Mr. Willits&mdash;the one under the sofa.&rdquo;
+       Then, with a toss of her head and a coquettish smile at St. George: &ldquo;What
+      a gadabout you are; do you know I've been three times to see you, and not
+      a soul in your house and the front door wide open, and everything done up
+      in curl papers as if you were going to move away for good and all and
+      never coming back? And do you know that you haven't been near me for a
+      whole week? What do you mean by breaking my heart? Thank you, Mr. Willits;
+      put the stool right here, so I can look up into Mr. Horn's eyes as Uncle
+      George wants me to. I've known the time, sir&rdquo;&mdash;and she arched her
+      brows at St. George&mdash;&ldquo;when you would be delighted to have me look my
+      prettiest at you, but now before I am halfway across the park you slip out
+      of the basement door to avoid me and&mdash;No!&mdash;no&mdash;no apologies&mdash;you
+      are just tired of me!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George laughed gayly in return, his palms flattened against each other
+      and held out in supplication; but he made no defence. He was studying the
+      couple, his mind on the bearing and manner of the young man toward the
+      woman he was pursuing so relentlessly. He saw that he had completely
+      regained his health, his clear eyes and ruddy skin and the spring with
+      which he moved denoting a man in perfect physical condition. He
+      discovered, too, that he was extremely well dressed and his costume all
+      that it should be&mdash;especially the plum-colored coat, which fitted his
+      shoulders to perfection; his linen of the whitest and finest, each ruffle
+      in flutes; the waist-coat embroidered in silk; the pumps of the proper
+      shape and the stockings all that could be desired&mdash;except perhaps&mdash;and
+      a grim smile crossed his face&mdash;that the silk scarf was a shade out of
+      key with the prevailing color of his make-up, particularly his hair; but,
+      then, that was to be expected of a man who had a slight flaw in his
+      ancestry. He wondered if she had noticed it and studied her face for an
+      answer. No! She had not noticed it. In fact there were very many things
+      she was overlooking in these last days of his wooing, he thought to
+      himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Suddenly he became occupied with Kate's beauty. He thought he had never
+      seen her so bewitching or in such good spirits. From his six feet and an
+      inch of vantage his eyes followed her sloping shoulders and tapering arms
+      and rested on her laughing, happy face&mdash;rose-colored in the soft
+      light of the candles&mdash;a film of lace looped at her elbows, her
+      wonderful hair caught in a coil at the back: not the prevailing fashion
+      but one most becoming to her. What had not this admixture of Scotch and
+      Virginia blood&mdash;this intermingling of robust independence with the
+      gentle, yielding feminine qualities of the Southern-born woman&mdash;done
+      for this girl?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Richard clapped his hands to attract attention, and advancing a step in
+      front of the big easy-chair which Malachi had just pulled out for him,
+      raised his fingers to command silence.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All eyes were instantly turned his way. Alert and magnetic, dignified and
+      charming, he stood in the full glow of the overhead chandelier, its light
+      falling upon his snuff-brown coat with its brass buttons, pale-yellow
+      waistcoat, and the fluff of white silk about his throat&mdash;his grave,
+      thoughtful face turned toward Kate as his nearest guest, his glance
+      sweeping the crowded room as if to be sure that everybody was at ease;
+      Malachi close behind awaiting his master's orders to further adjust the
+      chair and reading-lamp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In the interim of the hush Kate had settled herself at Richard's feet on
+      the low stool that Willits had brought, the young man standing behind her,
+      the two making a picture that attracted general attention; some wondering
+      at her choice, while others were outspoken in their admiration of the pair
+      who seemed so wonderfully suited to each other.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have a rare story,&rdquo; Richard began &ldquo;to read to you to-night, my good
+      friends, one you will never forget; one, indeed, which I am sure the world
+      at large will never forget. I shall read it as best I can, begging your
+      indulgence especially in rendering the dialect parts, which, if badly
+      done, often mar both the pathos and humor of the text.&rdquo; Here he settled
+      himself in his chair and picked up the small volume, Malachi, now that his
+      service was over, tiptoeing out to his place in the hall so as to be ready
+      for belated arrivals.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The room grew silent. Even Mrs. Cheston, who rarely ceased talking when
+      she had anything to say&mdash;and she generally did have something to say&mdash;folded
+      her hands in her lap and settled herself in her arm-chair, her whole
+      attention fastened on the reader. St. George, who had been talking to her,
+      moved up a chair so he could watch Kate's face the better.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again Richard raised his voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The time is of the present, and the scene is laid in one of those small
+      towns outside London. I shall read the whole story, omitting no word of
+      the text, for only then will you fully grasp the beauty of the author's
+      style.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He began in low, clear tones reciting the contest between the hum of the
+      kettle and the chirp of the cricket; the music of his voice lending added
+      charm to the dual song. Then there followed in constantly increasing
+      intensity the happy home life of bewitching Dot Perrybingle and her
+      matter-of-fact husband, John the Carrier, with sleepy Tilly Slowboy and
+      the Baby to fill out the picture; the gradual unfolding of the events that
+      led up to the cruel marriage about to take place between old Tackleton,
+      the mean toy merchant, and sweet May Fielding, in love with the sailor
+      boy, Edward, lost at sea; the finding of the mysterious deaf old man by
+      John the Carrier, and the bringing him home in his cart to Dot, who kept
+      him all night because his friends had not called for him; the rapid growth
+      of a love affair between Dot and this old man, who turned out to be a
+      handsome young fellow; the heart-rending discovery by John, through the
+      spying of Tackleton, that Dot was untrue to him, she meeting the man
+      clandestinely and adjusting the disguise for him, laughing all the while
+      at the ruse she was helping him to play; the grief of John when he
+      realized the truth, he sitting all night alone by the fire trying to make
+      up his mind whether he would creep upstairs and murder the villain who had
+      stolen the heart of his little Dot, or forgive her because he was so much
+      older than she and it was, therefore, natural for her to love a younger
+      man; and finally the preparations at the church, where Tackleton was to
+      wed the beautiful May Fielding, who, broken-hearted over the death of her
+      sailor boy, had at last succumbed to her mother's wishes and consented to
+      join Tackleton at the altar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For an hour Richard's well-modulated, full-toned voice rolled on, the
+      circle drawing closer and closer with their ears and hearts, as the
+      characters, one after another, became real and alive under the reader's
+      magical rendering. Dot Perrybingle's cheery, laughing accents; Tackleton's
+      sharp, rasping tones; John the Carrier's simple, straightforward
+      utterances and the soft, timid cadence of old Caleb, the toy maker&mdash;(drowned
+      Edward's father)&mdash;and his blind daughter Bertha were recognized as
+      soon as the reader voiced their speech. So thrilling was the story of
+      their several joys and sorrows that Kate, unconscious of her surroundings,
+      had slipped from her low stool, and with the weight of her body resting on
+      her knees, sat searching Richard's face, the better to catch every word
+      that fell from his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      To heighten the effect of what was the most dramatic part of the story&mdash;the
+      return of the wedding party to the Carrier's house, where Dot, Caleb, and
+      his blind daughter awaited them&mdash;Richard paused for a moment as if to
+      rest his voice&mdash;the room the while deathly still, the loosening of a
+      pent-up breath now and then showing how tense was the emotion. Then he
+      went on:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are those wheels upon the road, Bertha?&rdquo;, cried Dot. &ldquo;You've a quick ear,
+      Bertha&mdash;And now you hear them stopping at the garden gate! And now
+      you hear a step outside the door&mdash;the same step, Bertha, is it not&mdash;And
+      now&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Dot uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight, and running up to Caleb
+      put her hand upon his eyes, as a young man rushed into the room, and,
+      flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping down upon them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Is it over?&rdquo; cried Dot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Happily over?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you ever hear the like of it
+      before?&rdquo; cried Dot.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If my boy Edward in the Golden South Americas was alive&mdash;&rdquo; cried
+      Caleb, trembling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is alive!&rdquo; shrieked Dot, removing her hands from his eyes and clapping
+      them in ecstasy; &ldquo;look at him! See where he stands before you, healthy and
+      strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear, living, loving brother, Bertha!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All honor to the little creature for her transports! All honor to her
+      tears and laughter, when the three were locked in one another's arms! All
+      honor to the heartiness with which she met the sunburnt, sailor-fellow,
+      with his dark, streaming hair, halfway, and never turned her rosy little
+      mouth aside, but suffered him to kiss it freely, and to press her to his
+      bounding heart!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Now tell him (John) all, Edward,&rdquo; sobbed Dot, &ldquo;and don't spare me, for
+      nothing shall make me spare myself in his eyes ever again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was the man,&rdquo; said Edward.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you could steal disguised into the home of your old friend,&rdquo; rejoined
+      the carrier...
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But I had a passion for her.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I had,&rdquo; rejoined the other, &ldquo;and she returned it&mdash;I heard twenty
+      miles away that she was false to me&mdash;I had no mind to reproach her
+      but to see for myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Once more Richard's voice faltered, and again it rang clear, this time in
+      Dot's tones:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But when she knew that Edward was alive, John, and had come back&mdash;and
+      when she&mdash;that's me, John&mdash;told him all&mdash;and how his
+      sweetheart had believed him to be dead, and how she had been
+      over-persuaded by her mother into a marriage&mdash;and when she&mdash;that's
+      me again, John&mdash;told him they were not married, though close upon it&mdash;and
+      when he went nearly mad for joy to hear it&mdash;then she&mdash;that's me
+      again&mdash;said she would go and sound his sweetheart&mdash;and she did&mdash;and
+      they were married an hour ago!&mdash;John, an hour ago! And here's the
+      bride! And Gruff and Tackleton may die a bachelor! And I'm a happy little
+      woman, May, God bless you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Little woman, how she sobbed! John Perrybingle would have caught her in
+      his arms. But no; she wouldn't let him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't love me yet, please, John! Not for a long time yet! No&mdash;keep
+      there, please, John! When I laugh at you, as I sometimes do, John, and
+      call you clumsy, and a dear old goose, and names of that sort, it's
+      because I love you, John, so well. And when I speak of people being
+      middle-aged and steady, John, and pretend that we are a humdrum couple,
+      going on in a jog-trot sort of way, it's only because I'm such a silly
+      little thing, John, that I like, sometimes, to act a kind of play with
+      Baby, and all that, and make believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She saw that he was coming, and stopped him again. But she was very nearly
+      too late.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, don't love me for another minute or two, if you please, John! When I
+      first came home here I was half afraid I mighn't learn to love you every
+      bit as well as I hoped and prayed I might&mdash;being so very young, John.
+      But, dear John, every day and hour I love you more and more. And if I
+      could have loved you better than I do, the noble words I heard you say
+      this morning would have made me. But I can't. All the affection that I had
+      (it was a great deal, John) I gave you, as you well deserve, long, long
+      ago, and I have no more left to give. Now, my dear husband, take me to
+      your heart again! That's my home, John; and never, never think of sending
+      me to any other.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Richard Stopped and picking up a glass from the table moistened his lips.
+      The silence continued. Down more than one face the tears were trickling,
+      as they have trickled down millions of faces since. Kate had crept
+      imperceptibly nearer until her hands could have touched Richard's knees.
+      When Willits bent over her with a whispered comment a slight shiver ran
+      through her, but she neither answered nor turned her head. It was only
+      when Richard's voice finally ceased with the loud chirp of the cricket at
+      the close of the beloved story, and St. George had helped her to her feet,
+      that she seemed to awake to a sense of where she was. Even then she looked
+      about her in a dazed way, as if she feared some one had been probing her
+      heart&mdash;hanging back till the others had showered their
+      congratulations on the reader. Then leaning forward she placed her hands
+      in Richard's as if to steady herself, and with a sigh that seemed to come
+      from the depths of her nature bent her head and kissed him softly on the
+      cheek.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the eggnog was being served and the guests were broken up into knots
+      and groups, all discussing the beauty of the reading, she suddenly left
+      Willits, who had followed her every move as if he had a prior right to her
+      person, and going up to St. George, led him out of the room to one of the
+      sofas in Richard's study, her lips quivering, the undried tears still
+      trembling on her eyelids. She did not release his hand as they took their
+      seats. Her fingers closed only the tighter, as if she feared he would slip
+      from her grasp.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was all so beautiful and so terrible, Uncle George,&rdquo; she moaned at
+      last&mdash;&ldquo;and all so true. Such awful mistakes are made and then it is
+      too late. And nobody understands&mdash;nobody&mdash;nobody!&rdquo; She paused,
+      as if the mere utterance pained her, and then to St. George's amazement
+      asked abruptly &ldquo;Is there nothing yet from Harry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George looked at her keenly, wondering whether he had caught the words
+      aright. It had been months since Harry's name had crossed her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, nothing,&rdquo; he answered simply, trying to fathom her purpose and
+      completely at sea as to her real motive&mdash;&ldquo;not for some months. Not
+      since he left the ship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And do you think he is in any danger?&rdquo; She had released his hand, and
+      with her fingers resting on the sleeve of his coat sat looking into his
+      eyes as if to read their meaning.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know,&rdquo; he replied in a non-committal tone, still trying to
+      understand her purpose. &ldquo;He meant then to go to the mountains, so he wrote
+      his mother. This may account for our not hearing. Why do you ask? Have you
+      had any news of him yourself?&rdquo; he added, studying her face for some
+      solution of her strange attitude.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She sank back on the cushions. &ldquo;No, he never writes to me.&rdquo; Then, as if
+      some new train of thought had forced its way into her mind, she exclaimed
+      suddenly: &ldquo;What mountains?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Some range back of Rio, if I remember rightly. He said he&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Rio! But there is yellow fever at Rio!&rdquo; she cried, with a start as she
+      sat erect in her seat, the pupils of her eyes grown to twice their size.
+      &ldquo;Father lost half of one of his crews at Rio. He heard so to-day. It would
+      be dreadful for&mdash;for&mdash;his mother&mdash;if anything should happen
+      to him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again St. George scrutinized her face, trying to probe deep down in her
+      heart. Had she, after all, some affection left for this boy lover&mdash;and
+      her future husband within hearing distance! No! This was not his Kate&mdash;he
+      understood it all now. It was the spell of the story that still held her.
+      Richard's voice had upset her, as it had done half the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it is dreadful for everybody,&rdquo; he added. And then, in a perfunctory
+      manner, as being perhaps the best way to lead the conversation into other
+      channels, added: &ldquo;And the suspense will be worse now&mdash;for me at any
+      rate&mdash;for I, too, am going away where letters reach me but seldom.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her hand closed convulsively over his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You going away! YOU!&rdquo; she cried in a half-frightened tone. &ldquo;Oh, please
+      don't, Uncle George! Oh!&mdash;I don't want you away from me! Why must you
+      go? Oh, no! Not now&mdash;not now!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Her distress was so marked and her voice so pleading that he was about to
+      tell her the whole story, even to that of the shifts he had been put to to
+      get food for himself and Todd, when he caught sight of Willits making his
+      way through the throng to where they sat. His lips closed tight. This man
+      would always be a barrier between him and the girl he had loved ever since
+      her babyhood.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, my dear Kate,&rdquo; he replied calmly, his eyes still on Willits, who in
+      approaching from the other room had been detained by a guest, &ldquo;you see I
+      must go. Mr. Pawson wants me out of the way while he fixes up some of my
+      accounts, and so he suggested that I go back to Wesley for a few months.&rdquo;
+       He paused for an instant and, still keeping his eye on Willets, added:
+      &ldquo;And now one thing more, my dear Kate, before your escort claims you&rdquo;&mdash;here
+      his voice sank to a whisper&mdash;&ldquo;promise me that if Harry writes to you
+      you will send him a kind, friendly letter in return. It can do you no harm
+      now, nor would Harry misunderstand it&mdash;your wedding is so near. A
+      letter would greatly cheer him in his loneliness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he won't write!&rdquo; she exclaimed with some bitterness&mdash;she had not
+      yet noticed Willits's approach&mdash;&ldquo;he'll never write or speak to me
+      again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you will if he does?&rdquo; pleaded St. George, the thought of his boy's
+      loneliness overmastering every other feeling.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he won't, I tell you&mdash;never&mdash;NEVER!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if he should, my child? If&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped and raised his head. Willits stood gazing down at them,
+      searching St. George's face, as if to learn the meaning of the conference:
+      he knew that he did not favor his suit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate looked up and her face flushed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;in one minute, Mr. Willits,&rdquo; and without a word of any kind to
+      St. George she rose from the sofa and with her arm in Willits's left the
+      room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      One winter evening some weeks after St. George's departure, Pawson sat
+      before a smouldering fire in Temple's front room, reading by the light of
+      a low lamp. He had rearranged the furniture&mdash;what was left of it&mdash;both
+      in this and the adjoining room, in the expectation that Fogbin (Gorsuch's
+      attorney) would move in, but so far he had not appeared, nor had any word
+      come from either Gorsuch or Colonel Rutter; nor had any one either written
+      or called upon him in regard to the overdue payment; neither had any legal
+      papers been served.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This prolonged and ominous silence disturbed him; so much so that he had
+      made it a point to be as much in his office as possible should his enemy
+      spring any unexpected trap.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was, therefore, with some misgivings that he answered a quick,
+      impatient rap on his front door at the unusual hour of ten o'clock. If it
+      were Fogbin he had everything ready for his comfort; if it were any one
+      else he would meet him as best he could: no legal papers, at any rate,
+      could be served at that hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He swung back the door and a full-bearded, tightly-knit, well-built man in
+      rough clothes stepped in. In the dim light of the overhead lamp he caught
+      the flash of a pair of determined eyes set in a strong, forceful face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I want Mr. Temple,&rdquo; said the man, who had now removed his cap and stood
+      looking about him, as if making an inventory of the scanty furniture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is not here,&rdquo; replied Pawson, rummaging the intruder's face for some
+      clew to his identity and purpose in calling at so late an hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Are you sure?&rdquo; There was doubt as well as marked surprise in the man's
+      tone. He evidently did not believe a word of the statement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Very sure,&rdquo; rejoined the attorney in a more positive tone, his eyes still
+      on the stranger. &ldquo;He left town some weeks ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The intruder turned sharply, and with a brisk inquisitive movement strode
+      past him and pushed open the dining-room door. There he stood for a
+      moment, his eyes roaming over the meagre appointments of the interior&mdash;the
+      sideboard, bare of everything but a pitcher and some tumblers&mdash;the
+      old mahogany table littered with law books and papers&mdash;the mantel
+      stripped of its clock and candelabras. Then he stepped inside, and without
+      explanation of any kind, crossed the room, opened the door of St. George's
+      bedroom, and swept a comprehensive glance around the despoiled interior.
+      Once he stopped and peered into the gloom as if expecting to find the
+      object of his search concealed in its shadows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What has happened here?&rdquo; he demanded in a voice which plainly showed his
+      disappointment.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you mean what has become of the rest of the furniture?&rdquo; asked the
+      attorney in reply, gaining time to decide upon his course.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, who is responsible for this business?&rdquo; he exclaimed angrily. &ldquo;Has it
+      been done during his absence?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson hesitated. That the intruder was one of Gorsuch's men, and that he
+      had been sent in advance on an errand of investigation, was no longer to
+      be doubted. He, however, did not want to add any fuel to his increasing
+      heat, so he answered simply:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Temple got caught in the Patapsco failure and it went pretty hard
+      with him, and so what he didn't actually need he sold.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The man gave a start, his features hardening; but whether of surprise or
+      dissatisfaction Pawson could not tell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And when it was all gone he went away&mdash;is that what you mean?&rdquo; This
+      came in a softened tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that seems to be the size of it. I suppose you come about&mdash;some&rdquo;&mdash;again
+      he hesitated, not knowing exactly where the man stood&mdash;&ldquo;about some
+      money due you?&mdash;Am I right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I came to see Mr. Temple, and I must see him, and at once. How long
+      will he be gone?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All winter&mdash;perhaps longer.&rdquo; The attorney had begun to breathe
+      again. The situation might not be as serious as he had supposed. If he
+      wanted to see Mr. Temple himself, and no one else would do, there was
+      still chance of delay in the wiping out of the property.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the man's eyes roamed over the room, the bareness of which seemed
+      still to impress him. Then he asked simply: &ldquo;Where will a letter reach
+      him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I can't say exactly. I thought he had gone to Virginia&mdash;but he
+      doesn't answer any of my communications.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      A look of suspicion crept into the intruder's eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You're not trying to deceive me, are you? It is very important that I
+      should see Mr. Temple, and at once.&rdquo; Then his manner altered. &ldquo;You've
+      forgotten me, Mr. Pawson, but I have not forgotten you&mdash;my name is
+      Rutter. I lived here with Mr. Temple before I went to sea, three years
+      ago. I am just home&mdash;I left the ship an hour ago. I'll sit down if
+      you don't mind&mdash;I've still got my sea-legs on and am a little
+      wobbly.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson twisted his thin body and bent his neck, his eyes glued to the
+      speaker's face. There was not a trace of young Harry in the features.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, you don't look like him,&rdquo; he replied incredulously&mdash;&ldquo;he was
+      slender&mdash;not half your size, and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;I don't blame you. I am a good deal heavier; may be too a beard
+      makes some change in a man's face. But you don't really doubt me, do you?
+      Have you forgotten the bills that man Gadgem brought in?&mdash;the five
+      hundred dollars due Slater, and the horse Hampson sold me&mdash;the one I
+      shot?&rdquo; and one of his old musical laughs rose to his lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson sprang forward and seized the intruder's hand. He would recognize
+      that laugh among a thousand:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;I know you now! It's all come back to me,&rdquo; he cried joyously.
+      &ldquo;But you gave me a terrible start, Mr. Rutter. I thought you had come to
+      clear up what was left. Oh!&mdash;but I AM glad you are back. Your uncle&mdash;you
+      always called him so, I remember&mdash;your uncle has had an awful hard
+      time of it&mdash;had to sell most of his things&mdash;terrible&mdash;terrible!
+      And then, too, he has grieved so over you&mdash;asking me, sometimes two
+      or three times a day, for letters from you&mdash;asking me questions and
+      worrying over your not coming and not answering. Oh, this is fine. Now may
+      be we can save the situation. You don't mind my shaking your hand again,
+      do you? It's so good to know there is somebody who can help. I have been
+      all alone so far except Gadgem&mdash;who has been a treasure. You remember
+      him. Why didn't you let Mr. Temple know you were coming?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I couldn't. I have been up in the mountains of Brazil, and coming home
+      went ashore&mdash;got wrecked. These clothes I bought from a sailor,&rdquo; and
+      he opened his rough jacket the wider.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;that's exactly what I heard him say&mdash;that's what he
+      thought&mdash;that is, that you were where you couldn't write, although I
+      never heard him say anything about shipwreck. I remember his telling Mr.
+      Willits and Miss Seymour that same thing the morning he left&mdash;that
+      you couldn't write. They came to see him off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry edged his chair nearer the fireplace and propped one shoe on the
+      fender as if to dry it, although the night was fair. The mention of Kate's
+      and her suitor's names had sent the blood to his head and he was using the
+      subterfuge in the effort to regain control of himself before Pawson should
+      read all his secrets.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Shifting his body he rested his head on his hand, the light of the lamp
+      bringing into clearer relief his fresh, healthy skin, finely modelled
+      nose, and wide brow, the brown hair, clipped close to his head, still
+      holding its glossy sheen. For some seconds he did not speak: the low song
+      of the fire seemed to absorb him. Now and then Pawson, who was watching
+      him intently, heard him strangle a rebellious sigh, as if some old memory
+      were troubling him. His hand dropped and with a quick movement he faced
+      his companion again.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have been away a long time, Mr. Pawson,&rdquo; he said in a thoughtful tone.
+      &ldquo;For three months&mdash;four now&mdash;I have had no letters from anybody.
+      It was my fault partly, but let that go. I want you to answer some
+      questions, and I want you to tell me the truth&mdash;all the truth. I
+      haven't any use for any other kind of man&mdash;do you understand? Is my
+      mother alive?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Alec? Is he all right?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson nodded.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And my uncle? Is he ruined?&mdash;so badly ruined that he is suffering?
+      Tell me.&rdquo; There was a peculiar pathos in his tone&mdash;so much so that
+      Pawson, who had been standing, settled into a chair beside him that his
+      answers might, if possible, be the more intimate and sympathetic.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I'm afraid he is. The only hope is the postponement in some way of the
+      foreclosure of the mortgage on this house until times get better. It
+      wouldn't bring its face value to-day.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry caught his breath: &ldquo;My God!&mdash;you don't tell me so! Poor Uncle
+      George&mdash;so fine and splendid&mdash;so good to everybody, and he has
+      come to this! And about this mortgage&mdash;who owns it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Gorsuch, I understand, owns it now: he bought it of the Tyson
+      estate.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean John Gorsuch&mdash;my father's man of business?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And was there nothing left?&mdash;no money coming in from anywhere?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson shook his head: &ldquo;We collected all that some time ago&mdash;it came
+      from some old ground rents.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And how has he lived since?&rdquo; He wanted to hear it all; he could help
+      better if he knew how far down the ladder to begin.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;From hand to mouth, really.&rdquo; And then there followed his own and Gadgem's
+      efforts to keep the wolf from the door; the sale of the guns, saddles, and
+      furniture; the wrench over the Castullux cup&mdash;and what a godsend it
+      was that Kirk got such a good price for it&mdash;down to the parting with
+      the last article that either or both of them could sell or pawn, including
+      his four splendid setters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the sad story fell from the attorney's sympathetic lips Harry would now
+      and then cover his face with his hands in the effort to hide the tears. He
+      knew that the ruin was now complete. He knew, too, that he had been the
+      cause of it. Then his thoughts reverted to the old regime and its
+      comforts: those which his uncle had shared with him so generously.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And what has become of my uncle's servants?&rdquo; he asked&mdash;&ldquo;his cook,
+      Aunt Jemima, and his body-servant, Todd?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know what has become of the cook, but he took Todd with him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry heaved a sigh of relief. If Todd was with him life would still be
+      made bearable for his uncle. Perhaps, after all, a winter with Tom Coston
+      was the wisest thing he could have done.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One other question now trembled on his lips. It was one he felt he had no
+      right to ask&mdash;not of Pawson&mdash;but it was his only opportunity,
+      and he must know the truth if he was to carry out the other plans he had
+      in view the day he dropped everything and came home without warning. At
+      last he asked casually:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know whether my father returned to Uncle George the money he paid
+      out for me?&rdquo; Not that it was important&mdash;more as if he wanted to be
+      posted on current events.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He tried, but Mr. Temple wouldn't take it. I had the matter in hand, and
+      know. This was some three years ago. He has never offered it since&mdash;not
+      to my knowledge.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry's face lightened. Some trace of decency was still left in the Rutter
+      blood! This money was in all honor owed by his father and might still
+      become an asset if he and his uncle should ever become reconciled.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And can you tell me how they all are&mdash;out at Moorlands? Have you
+      seen my father lately?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not your father, but I met your old servant, Alec, a few days ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Alec!&mdash;dear old Alec! Tell me about him. And my mother&mdash;was she
+      all right? What did Alec say, and how did the old man look?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes; your mother was well. He said they were all well, except Colonel
+      Rutter, whose eyes troubled him. Alec seemed pretty much the same&mdash;may
+      be a little older.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry's mind began to wander. The room and his companion were forgotten.
+      He was again at Moorlands, the old negro following him about, his dear
+      mother sitting by his bed or kissing him goodnight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For an instant he sat gazing into the smouldering embers absorbed in his
+      thoughts. Then as if some new vista had opened out before him he asked
+      suddenly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't know what he was doing in town, do you? Was my mother with
+      him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he was alone. He had brought some things in for Mr. Seymour&mdash;some
+      game or something, if I remember right. There's to be a wedding there
+      soon, so I hear. Yes, now I think of it, it WAS game&mdash;some
+      partridges, perhaps, your father had sent in. The old man asked about you&mdash;he
+      always does. And now, Mr. Rutter, tell me about yourself&mdash;have you
+      done well?&rdquo; He didn't think he had, judging from his general appearance,
+      but he wanted to be sure in case St. George asked him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry settled in his chair, his broad shoulders filling the back. The news
+      of Kate's wedding was what he had expected. Perhaps it was already over.
+      He was glad, however, the information had come to him unsought. For an
+      instant he made no reply to Pawson's inquiry, then he answered slowly:
+      &ldquo;Yes, and no. I have made a little money&mdash;not much&mdash;but some&mdash;not
+      enough to pay Uncle George everything I owe him&mdash;not yet; another
+      time I shall do better. I was down with fever for a while and that cost me
+      a good deal of what I had saved. But I HAD to come back. I met a man who
+      told me Uncle George was ruined; that he had left this house and that
+      somebody had put a sign on it, I thought at first that this must refer to
+      you and your old arrangement in the basement, until I questioned him
+      closer. I knew how careless he had always been about his money
+      transactions, and was afraid some one had taken advantage of him. That's
+      why I was so upset when I came in a while ago: I thought they had stolen
+      his furniture as well. The ship Mohican&mdash;one of the old Barkeley line&mdash;was
+      sailing the day I reached the coast and I got aboard and worked my passage
+      home. I learned to do that on my way out. I learned to wear a beard too.
+      Not very becoming, is it?&rdquo;&mdash;and a low, forced laugh escaped his lips.
+      &ldquo;But shaving is not easy aboard ship or in the mines.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson made no reply. He had been studying his guest the closer while he
+      was talking, his mind more on the man than on what he was saying. The old
+      Harry, which the dim light of the hall and room had hidden, was slowly
+      coming back to him:&mdash;the quick turn of the head; the way his lips
+      quivered when he laughed; the exquisitely modelled nose and brow, and the
+      way the hair grew on the temples. The tones of his voice, too, had the old
+      musical ring. It was the same madcap, daredevil boy mellowed and
+      strengthened by contact with the outside world. Next he scrutinized his
+      hands, their backs bronzed and roughened by contact with the weather, and
+      waited eagerly until some gesture opened the delicately turned fingers,
+      exposing the white palms, and felt relieved and glad when he saw that they
+      showed no rough usage. His glance rested on his well-turned thighs,
+      slender waist, and broad, strong shoulders and arms&mdash;and then his
+      eyes&mdash;so clear, and his skin so smooth and fresh&mdash;a clean soul
+      in a clean body! What joy would be Temple's when he got his arms around
+      this young fellow once more!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The wanderer reached for his cap and pushed back his chair. For an instant
+      he stood gazing into the smouldering coals as if he hated to leave their
+      warmth, his brow clouded, his shoulders drawn back. He had all the
+      information he wanted&mdash;all he had come in search of, although it was
+      not exactly what he wished or what he had expected:&mdash;his uncle ruined
+      and an exile; his father half blind and Kate's wedding expected any week.
+      That was enough at least for one night.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He stepped forward and grasped Pawson's hand, his well-knit, alert body in
+      contrast to the loosely jointed, long-legged, young attorney.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I must thank you, Mr. Pawson,&rdquo; he said in his old outspoken, hearty way
+      &ldquo;for your frankness, and I must also apologize for my apparent rudeness
+      when I first entered your door; but, as I told you, I was so astounded and
+      angry at what I saw that I hardly knew what I was doing. And now one thing
+      more before I take my leave: if Mr. Temple does not want his present
+      retreat known&mdash;and I gather from the mysterious way in which you have
+      spoken that he does not&mdash;let me tell you that I do not want mine
+      known either. Please do not say to any one that you have seen me, or
+      answer any questions&mdash;not for a time, at least. Good-night!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With the closing of the front door behind him the exile came to a
+      standstill on the top step and looked about him. Across the park&mdash;beyond
+      the trees, close sheltered under the wide protecting roof, lay Kate. All
+      the weary miles out and back had this picture been fixed in his mind. She
+      was doubtless asleep as it was now past eleven o'clock: he would know by
+      the lights. But even the sight of the roof that sheltered her would, in
+      itself, be a comfort. It had been many long years since he had breathed
+      the same air with her; slept under the same stars; walked where her feet
+      had trodden. For some seconds he stood undecided. Should he return to the
+      Sailors' House where he had left his few belongings and banish all
+      thoughts of her from his mind now that his worst fears had been confirmed?
+      or should he yield to the strain on his heart-strings? If she were asleep
+      the whole house would be dark; if she were at some neighbor's and Mammy
+      Henny was sitting up for her, the windows in the bedroom would be dark and
+      the hall lamp still burning&mdash;he had watched it so often before and
+      knew the signs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Drawing the collar of his rough peajacket close about his throat and
+      crowding his cap to his ears, he descended the steps and with one of his
+      quick, decided movements plunged into the park, now silent and deserted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he neared the Seymour house he became conscious, from the glow of
+      lights gleaming between the leafless branches of the trees, that something
+      out of the common was going on inside. The house was ablaze from the
+      basement to the roof, with every window-shade illumined. Outside the
+      steps, and as far out as the curb, lounged groups of attendants, while in
+      the side street, sheltered by the ghostly trees, there could be made out
+      the wheels and hoods of carryalls and the glint of harness. Now and then
+      the door would open and a bevy of muffled figures&mdash;the men in cloaks,
+      the girls in nubias wound about their heads and shoulders&mdash;would pass
+      out. The Seymours were evidently giving a ball, or was it&mdash;and the
+      blood left his face and little chills ran loose through his hair&mdash;was
+      it Kate's wedding night? Pawson had said that a marriage would soon take
+      place, and in the immediate future. It was either this or an important
+      function of some kind, and on a much more lavish scale than had been old
+      Prim's custom in the days when he knew him. Then the contents of Alec's
+      basket rose in his mind. That was why his father had sent the pheasants!
+      Perhaps both he and his mother were inside!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Sick at heart he turned on his heel and with quickened pace retraced his
+      steps. He would not be a spy, and he could not he an eavesdropper. As the
+      thought forced itself on his mind, the fear that he might meet some one
+      whom he would know, or who would know him, overtook him. So great was his
+      anxiety that it was only when he had left the park far behind him on his
+      way back to the Sailors' House, that he regained his composure. He was
+      prepared to face the truth, and all of it whatever it held in store for
+      him; but he must first confront his father and learn just how he stood
+      with him; then he would see his mother and Alec, and then he would find
+      St. George: Kate must come last.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The news that his father had offered to pay his debts&mdash;although he
+      did not intend that that should relieve him in any way of his own
+      responsibility to his uncle&mdash;kindled fresh hopes in his heart and
+      buoyed him up. Now that his father had tried repeatedly to repair the
+      wrong he had done it might only be necessary to throw himself on his knees
+      before him and be taken back into his heart and arms. To see him, then,
+      was his first duty and this he would begin to carry out in the morning. As
+      to his meeting his mother and Alec&mdash;should he fail with his father&mdash;that
+      must be undertaken with more care, for he could not place himself in the
+      position of sneaking home and using the joy his return would bring them as
+      a means to soften his father's heart. Yes, he would find his father first,
+      then his mother and Alec. If his father received him the others would
+      follow. If he was repulsed, he must seek out some other way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This over he would find St. George. He knew exactly where his uncle was,
+      although he had not said so to Pawson. He was not at Coston's, nor
+      anywhere in the vicinity of Wesley, but at Craddock, on the bay&mdash;a
+      small country house some miles distant, where he and his dogs had often
+      spent days and weeks during the ducking season. St. George had settled
+      down there to rest and get away from his troubles; that was why he had not
+      answered Pawson's letters.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Striding along with his alert, springing step, he swung through the
+      deserted and unguarded Marsh Market, picked his way between the piles of
+      produce and market carts, and plunging down a narrow street leading to the
+      wharf, halted before a door over which swung a lantern burning a green
+      light. Here he entered.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Although it was now near midnight, there were still eight or ten seafaring
+      men in the room&mdash;several of them members of his own crew aboard the
+      Mohican. Two were playing checkers, the others crowded about a square
+      table where a game of cards was in progress; wavy lines of tobacco smoke
+      floated beneath the dingy ceiling; at one end was a small bar where a man
+      in a woollen shirt was filling some short, thick tumblers from an earthen
+      jug. It was the ordinary sailors' retreat where the men put up before,
+      between, and after their voyages.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      One of them at the card-table looked up from his game as Harry entered,
+      and called out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Man been lookin' for you&mdash;comin' back, he says. My trick! Hearts,
+      wasn't it?&rdquo; (this to his companions).
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do I know him?&rdquo; asked Harry with a slight start, pausing on his way to
+      his bedroom upstairs, where he had left his bag of clothes two hours
+      before. Could he have been recognized and shadowed?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;don't think so; he's a street vendor. Got some China silks to
+      sell&mdash;carries his pack on his back and looks as if he'd took up a
+      extry 'ole in his belt. Hungry, I wouldn't wonder. Wanted to h'ist 'em fur
+      a glass o' grog an' a night's lodgin', but Cap wouldn't let him&mdash;said
+      you'd be back and might help him. Wasn't that it, Cap?&rdquo;&mdash;this to the
+      landlord, who nodded in reply.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How could <i>I</i> help him?&rdquo; asked Harry, selecting a tallow dip from a
+      row on a shelf, but in a tone that implied his own doubt in the query, as
+      well as his relief, now that the man was really a stranger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, this is your port, so I 'ear. Some o' them high-flyers up 'round
+      the park might lend a hand, may be, if you'd tip 'em a wink, or some o'
+      their women folks might take a shine to 'em.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Looked hungry, did you say?&rdquo; Harry asked, lighting the dip at an oil lamp
+      that swung near the bar.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;holler's a drum&mdash;see straight through him; tired too&mdash;beat
+      out. You'd think so if you see him. My play&mdash;clubs.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry turned to the landlord: &ldquo;If this man comes in again give him food
+      and lodging,&rdquo; and he handed him a bank bill. &ldquo;If he is here in the morning
+      let me see him. I'm going to bed now. Good-night, men!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXV
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Should I lapse into the easy-flowing style of the chroniclers of the
+      period of which I write&mdash;(and how often has the scribe wished he
+      could)&mdash;this chapter would open with the announcement that on this
+      particularly bleak, wintry afternoon a gentleman in the equestrian costume
+      of the day, and mounted upon a well-groomed, high-spirited white horse,
+      might have been seen galloping rapidly up a country lane leading to an
+      old-fashioned manor house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Such, however, would not cover the facts. While the afternoon was
+      certainly wintry, and while the rider was unquestionably a gentleman, he
+      was by no manner of means attired in velveteen coat and russet-leather
+      boots with silver spurs, his saddle-bags strapped on behind, but in a
+      rough and badly worn sailor's suit, his free hand grasping a bundle
+      carried loose on his pommel. As to the horse neither the immortal James or
+      any of his school could truthfully picture this animal as either white or
+      high-spirited. He might, it is true, have been born white and would in all
+      probability have stayed white but for the many omissions and commissions
+      of his earlier livery stable training&mdash;traces of which could still be
+      found in his scraped sides and gnawed mane and tail; he might also have
+      once had a certain commendable spirit had not the ups and downs of road
+      life&mdash;and they were pretty steep outside Kennedy Square&mdash;taken
+      it out of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It is, however, when I come to the combination of horse and rider that I
+      can with entire safety lapse into the flow of the old chroniclers. For
+      whatever Harry had forgotten in his many experiences since he last threw
+      his leg over Spitfire, horsemanship was not one of them. He still rode
+      like a Cherokee and still sat his mount like a prince.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had had an anxious and busy morning. With the first streak of dawn he
+      had written a long letter to his Uncle George, in which he told him of his
+      arrival; of his heart-felt sorrow at what Pawson had imparted and of his
+      leaving immediately, first for Wesley and then Craddock, as soon as he
+      found out how the land lay at Moorlands. This epistle he was careful to
+      enclose in another envelope, which he directed to Justice Coston, with
+      instructions to forward it with &ldquo;the least possible delay&rdquo; to Mr. Temple,
+      who was doubtless at Craddock, &ldquo;and who was imperatively needed at home in
+      connection with some matters which required his immediate personal
+      attention,&rdquo; and which enclosure, it is just as well to state, the
+      honorable justice placed inside the mantel clock, that being the safest
+      place for such precious missives, at least until the right owner should
+      appear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This duly mailed, he had returned to the Sailors' House, knocked at the
+      door of the upstairs room in which, through his generosity, the street
+      vendor lay sleeping, and after waking him up and becoming assured that the
+      man was in real distress, had bought at twice their value the China silks
+      which had caused the disheartened pedler so many weary hours of tramping.
+      These he had tucked under his arm and carried away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The act was not alone due to his charitable instincts. A much more selfish
+      motive influenced him. Indeed the thought came to him in a way that had
+      determined him to attend to his mail at early dawn and return at sunrise
+      lest the owner should disappear and take the bundle with him. The silks
+      were the very things he needed to help him solve one of his greatest
+      difficulties. He would try, as the sailor-pedler had done, to sell them in
+      the neighborhood of Moorlands&mdash;(a common practice in those days)&mdash;and
+      in this way might gather up the information of which he was in search.
+      Pawson had not known him&mdash;perhaps the others would not: he might even
+      offer the silks to his father without being detected.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With this plan clearly defined in his mind, he had walked into a livery
+      stable near the market, but a short distance from his lodgings, with the
+      silks in a bundle and after looking the stock over had picked out this
+      unprepossessing beast as best able to take him to Moorlands and back
+      between sunrise and dark.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he rode on, leaving the scattered buildings of the town far behind,
+      mounting the hills and then striking the turnpike&mdash;every rod of which
+      he could have found in the dark&mdash;his thoughts, like road-swallows,
+      skimmed each mile he covered. Here was where he had stopped with Kate when
+      her stirrup broke; near the branches of that oak close to the ditch
+      marking the triangle of cross-roads he had saved his own and Spitfire's
+      neck by a clear jump that had been the talk of the neighborhood for days.
+      On the crest of this hill&mdash;the one he was then ascending&mdash;his
+      father always tightened up the brakes on his four-in-hand, and on the
+      slope beyond invariably braced himself in his seat, swung his whip, and
+      the flattened team swept on and down, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake
+      that blurred the road for minutes thereafter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When noon came he dismounted at a farmer's out-building beside the road&mdash;he
+      would not trust the public-houses&mdash;fed and watered his horse, rubbed
+      him down himself, and after an hour's rest pushed on toward the fork in
+      the road to Moorlands. Beyond this was a cross-path that led to the
+      outbarns and farm stables&mdash;a path bordered by thick bushes and which
+      skirted a fence in the rear of the manor house itself. Here he intended to
+      tie his steed and there he would mount him again should his mission fail.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The dull winter sky had already heralded the dusk&mdash;it was near four
+      o'clock in the afternoon&mdash;when he passed some hayricks where a group
+      of negroes were at work. One or two raised their heads and then, as if
+      reassured, resumed their tasks. This encouraged him to push on the nearer&mdash;he
+      had evidently been mistaken for one of the many tradespeople seeking his
+      father's overseer, either to sell tools or buy produce.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Tying the horse close to the fence&mdash;so close that it could not be
+      seen from the house&mdash;he threw the bundle of silks over his shoulder
+      and struck out for the small office in the rear. Here the business of the
+      estate was transacted, and here were almost always to be found either the
+      overseer or one of his assistants&mdash;both of them white. These men were
+      often changed, and his chance, therefore, of meeting a stranger was all
+      the more likely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he approached the low sill of the door which was level with the ground,
+      and which now stood wide open, he caught the glow of a fire and could make
+      out the figure of a man seated at a desk bending over a mass of papers.
+      The man pushed back a green shade which had protected his eyes from the
+      glare of a lamp and peered out at him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It was his father!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The discovery was so unexpected and had come with such suddenness&mdash;it
+      was rarely in these later days that the colonel was to be found here in
+      the afternoon: he was either riding or receiving visitors&mdash;that
+      Harry's first thought was to shrink back out of sight, or, if discovered,
+      to make some excuse for his intrusion and retire. Then his mind changed
+      and he stepped boldly in. This was what he had come for and this was what
+      he would face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have some China silks to sell,&rdquo; he said in his natural tone of voice,
+      turning his head so that while his goods were in sight his face would be
+      in shadow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Silks! I don't want any silks! Who allowed you to pass in here? Alec!&rdquo; He
+      pushed back his chair and moved to the door. &ldquo;Alec! Where the devil is
+      Alec! He's always where I don't want him!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I saw no one to ask, sir,&rdquo; Harry replied mechanically. His father's
+      appearance had sent a chill through him; he would hardly have known him
+      had he met him on the street. Not only did he look ten years older, but
+      the injury to his sight caused him to glance sideways at any one he
+      addressed, completely destroying the old fearless look in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You never waited to ask! You walk into my private office unannounced and&mdash;&rdquo;
+       here he turned the lamp to see the better. &ldquo;You're a sailor, aren't you?&rdquo;
+       he added fiercely&mdash;a closer view of the intruder only heightening his
+      wrath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, sir&mdash;I'm a sailor,&rdquo; replied Harry simply, his voice dying in
+      his throat as he summed up the changes that the years had wrought in the
+      colonel's once handsome, determined face&mdash;thinner, more shrunken, his
+      mustache and the short temple-whiskers almost white.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For an instant his father crumpled a wisp of paper he was holding between
+      his fingers and thumb; and then demanded sharply, but with a tone of
+      curiosity, as if willing the intruder should tarry a moment while he
+      gathered the information:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How long have you been a sailor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am just in from my last voyage.&rdquo; He still kept in the shadow although
+      he saw his father had so far failed to recognize him. The silks had been
+      laid on a chair beside him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's not what I asked you. How long have you been a sailor?&rdquo; He was
+      scanning his face now as best he could, shifting the green shade that he
+      might see the better.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I went to sea three years ago.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Three years, eh? Where did you go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The tone of curiosity had increased. Perhaps the next question would lead
+      up to some basis on which he could either declare himself or lay the
+      foundation of a declaration to be made the next day&mdash;after he had
+      seen his mother and Alec.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To South America. Para was my first port,&rdquo; he answered simply, wondering
+      why he wanted to know.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's not far from Rio?&rdquo; He was still looking sideways at him, but there
+      was no wavering in his gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, not far&mdash;Rio was our next stopping place. We had a hard voyage
+      and put in to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Do you know a young man by the name of Rutter&mdash;slim man with dark
+      hair and eyes?&rdquo; interrupted his father in an angry tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry started forward, his heart in his mouth, his hands upraised, his
+      fingers opening. It was all he could do to restrain himself. &ldquo;Don't you
+      know me, father?&rdquo; was trembling on his lips. Then something in the sound
+      of the colonel's voice choked his utterance. Not now, he thought,
+      mastering his emotion&mdash;a moment more and he would tell him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have heard of him, sir,&rdquo; he answered when he recovered his speech,
+      straining his ears to catch the next word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Heard of him, have you? So has everybody else heard of him&mdash;a
+      worthless scoundrel who broke his mother's heart; a man who disgraced his
+      family&mdash;a gentleman turned brigand&mdash;a renegade who has gone back
+      on his blood! Tell him so if you see him! Tell him I said so; I'm his
+      father, and know! No&mdash;I don't want your silks&mdash;don't want
+      anything that has to do with sailormen. I am busy&mdash;please go away.
+      Don't stop to bundle them up&mdash;do that outside,&rdquo; and he turned his
+      back and readjusted the shade over his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry's heart sank, and a cold faintness stole through his frame. He was
+      not angry nor indignant. He was stunned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Without a word in reply he gathered up the silks from the chair, tucked
+      them under his arm, and replacing his cap stepped outside into the fast
+      approaching twilight. Whatever the morrow might bring forth, nothing more
+      could be done to-day. To have thrown himself at his father's feet would
+      only have resulted in his being driven from the grounds by the overseer,
+      with the servants looking on&mdash;a humiliation he could not stand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As he stood rolling the fabrics into a smaller compass, a gray-haired
+      negro in the livery of a house servant passed hurriedly and entered the
+      door of the office. Instantly his father's voice rang out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where the devil have you been, Alec? How many times must I tell you to
+      look after me oftener. Don't you know I'm half blind and&mdash;No&mdash;I
+      don't want any more wood&mdash;I want these vagabonds kept off my grounds.
+      Send Mr. Grant to me at once, and don't you lose sight of that man until
+      you have seen him to the main road. He says he is a sailor&mdash;and I've
+      had enough of sailors, and so has everybody else about here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The negro bowed and backed out of the room. No answer of any kind was best
+      when the colonel was in one of his &ldquo;tantrums.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I reckon I hab to ask ye, sah, to quit de place&mdash;de colonel don't
+      'low nobody to&mdash;&rdquo; he said politely.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry turned his face aside and started for the fence. His first thought
+      was to drop his bundle and throw his arms around Alec's neck; then he
+      realized that this would be worse than his declaring himself to his father&mdash;he
+      could then be accused of attempting deception by the trick of a disguise.
+      So he hurried on to where his horse was tied&mdash;his back to Alec, the
+      bundle shifted to his left shoulder that he might hide his face the better
+      until he was out of sight of the office, the old man stumbling on, calling
+      after him:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, dat ain't de way. Yer gotter go down de main road; here, man&mdash;don't
+      I tell yer dat ain't de way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry had now gained the fence and had already begun to loosen the reins
+      when Alec, out of breath and highly indignant over the refusal to carry
+      out his warning, reached his side.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You better come right back f'om whar ye started,&rdquo; the old negro puffed;
+      &ldquo;ye can't go dat way or dey'll set de dogs on ye.&rdquo; Here his eyes rested on
+      the reins and forelock. &ldquo;What! you got a horse an' you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry turned and laid his hand on the old servant's shoulder. He could
+      hardly control his voice:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you know me, Alec? I'm Harry!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old man bent down, peered into Harry's eyes, and with a quick spring
+      forward grabbed him by both shoulders.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You my Marse Harry!&mdash;you!&rdquo; His breath was gone now, his whole body
+      in a tremble, his eyes bulging from his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Alec, Harry! It's only the beard. Look at me! I didn't want my
+      father to see us&mdash;that's why I kept on.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old servant threw up his hands and caught his young master around the
+      neck. For some seconds he could not speak.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And de colonel druv ye out!&rdquo; he gasped. &ldquo;Oh, my Gawd! my Gawd! And ye
+      ain't daid, and ye come back home ag'in.&rdquo; He was sobbing now, his head on
+      the exile's shoulder, Harry's arms about him&mdash;patting his bent back.
+      &ldquo;But yer gotter go back, Marse Harry,&rdquo; he moaned. &ldquo;He ain't 'sponsible
+      these days. He didn't know ye! Come 'long, son; come back wid ol' Alec;
+      please come, Marse Harry. Oh, Gawd! ye GOTTER come!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I'll go home to-night&mdash;another day I'll&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ye ain't got no home but dis, I tell ye! Go tell him who ye is&mdash;lemme
+      run tell him. I won't be a minute. Oh! Marse Harry, I can't let ye go! I
+      been dat mizzable widout ye. I ain't neber got over lovin' ye!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Here a voice from near the office broke out. In the dusk the two could
+      just make out the form of the colonel, who was evidently calling to some
+      of his people. He was bareheaded and without his shade.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've sent Alec to see him safe off the grounds. You go yourself, Mr.
+      Grant, and follow him into the highroad; remember that after this I hold
+      you responsible for these prowlers.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The two had paused while the colonel was speaking, Harry, gathering the
+      reins in his hand, ready to vault into the saddle, and Alec, holding on to
+      his coat-sleeves hoping still to detain him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I haven't a minute more&mdash;quick, Alec, tell me how my mother is.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She's middlin' po'ly, same's ever; got great rings under her eyes and her
+      heart's dat heaby makes abody cry ter look at 'er. But she ain't sick,
+      jes' griebin' herse'f to death. Ain't yer gwineter stop and see 'er? May
+      be I kin git ye in de back way.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not now&mdash;not here. Bring her to Uncle George's house to-morrow about
+      noon, and I will be there. Tell her how I look, but don't tell her what my
+      father has done. And now tell me about Miss Kate&mdash;how long since you
+      saw her? Is she married?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the colonel's voice was heard; this time much nearer&mdash;within
+      hailing distance. He and the overseer were evidently approaching the
+      fence; some of the negroes had doubtless apprised them of the course of
+      Harry's exit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Alec turned quickly to face his master, and Harry, realizing that his last
+      moment had come, swung himself into the saddle. If Alec made any reply to
+      his question it was lost in the clatter of hoofs as both horse and man
+      swept down the by-path. In another moment they had gained the main road,
+      the rider never breaking rein until he had reached the farm-house where he
+      had fed and watered his horse some hours before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Thirty-odd miles out and back was not a long ride for a hired horse in
+      these days over a good turnpike with plenty of time for resting&mdash;and
+      he had as many breathing spells as gallops, for Harry's moods really
+      directed his gait. Once in a while he would give him his head, the reins
+      lying loose, the horse picking his way in a walk. Then the bitterness of
+      his father's words and how undeserved they were, and how the house of
+      cards his hopes had built up had come tumbling down about his ears at the
+      first point of contact would rush over him, and he would dig his heels
+      into the horse's flanks and send him at full gallop through the night
+      along the pale ribbon of a road barely discernible in the ghostly dark.
+      When, however, Alec's sobs smote his ear, or the white face of his mother
+      confronted him, the animal would gradually slacken his pace and drop into
+      a walk.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Dominated by these emotions certain fixed resolutions at last took
+      possession of him: He would see his mother at once, no matter at what cost&mdash;even
+      if he defied his father&mdash;and then he would find his uncle. Whether he
+      would board the next vessel heaving port and return to his work in the
+      mountains, or whether he would bring his uncle back from Craddock and the
+      two, with his own vigorous youth and new experience of the world, fight it
+      out together as they had once done before, depended on what St. George
+      advised. Now that Kate's marriage was practically decided upon, one sorrow&mdash;and
+      his greatest&mdash;was settled forever. Any others that were in store for
+      him he would meet as they came.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With his mind still intent on these plans he rode at last into the open
+      door of the small courtyard of the livery stable and drew rein under a
+      swinging lantern. It was past ten at night, and the place was deserted,
+      except by a young negro who advanced to take his horse. Tossing the bridle
+      aside he slipped to the ground.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He's wet,&rdquo; Harry said, &ldquo;but he's all right. Let him cool off gradually,
+      and don't give him any water until he gets dry. I'll come in to-morrow and
+      pay your people what I owe them.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The negro curry-combed his fingers down the horse's flanks as if to assure
+      himself of his condition, and in the movement brought his face under the
+      glare of the overhead light.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry grabbed him by the shoulder and swung him round.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd&mdash;you rascal! What are you doing here? Why are you not down on
+      the Eastern Shore?&rdquo; His astonishment was so intense that for an instant he
+      could not realize he had the right man.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The negro drew back. He was no runaway slave, and he didn't intend to be
+      taken for one&mdash;certainly not by a man as rough and suspicious looking
+      as the one before him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How you know my name, man?&rdquo; He was nervous and scared half out of his
+      wits. More than one negro had been shanghaied in that way and smuggled off
+      to sea.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Know you! I'd know you among a thousand. Have you, too, deserted your
+      master?&rdquo; He still held him firmly by the collar of his coat, his voice
+      rising with his wrath. &ldquo;Why have you left him? Answer me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For an instant the negro hesitated, leaned forward, and then with a burst
+      of joy end out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You ain't!&mdash;Fo' Gawd it is! Dat beard on ye, Marse Harry, done fool
+      me&mdash;but you is him fo' sho. Gor-a-mighty! ain't I glad ye ain't daid.
+      Marse George say on'y yisterday you was either daid or sick dat ye didn't
+      write an'&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Said yesterday! Why, is he at home?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;HOME! Lemme throw a blanket over dis hoss and tie him tell we come back.
+      Oh, we had a heap o' mis'ry since ye went away&mdash;a heap o' trouble.
+      Nothin' but trouble! You come 'long wid me&mdash;'tain't far; des around
+      de corner. I'll show ye sompin' make ye creep all over. An' it ain't
+      gettin' no better&mdash;gettin' wuss. Dis way, Manse Harry. You been
+      'cross de big water, ain't ye? Dat's what I heared. Aunt Jemima been
+      mighty good, but we can't go on dis way much longer.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Still talking, forging ahead in the darkness through the narrow street
+      choked with horseless drays, Todd swung into a dingy yard, mounted a
+      flight of rickety wooden steps, and halted at an unpainted door. Turning
+      the knob softly he beckoned silently to Harry, and the two stepped into a
+      small room lighted by a low lamp placed on the hearth, its rays falling on
+      a cot bed and a few chairs. Beside a cheap pine table sat Aunt Jemima,
+      rocking noiselessly. The old woman raised her hand in warning and put her
+      fingers to her lips.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the bed, with the coverlet drawn close under his chin, lay his Uncle
+      George!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Harry looked about the room in a bewildered way and then tiptoed to St.
+      George's bed. It had been a day of surprises, but this last had completely
+      upset him. St. George dependent on the charity of his old cook and without
+      other attendant than Todd! Why had he been deserted by everybody who loved
+      him? Why was he not at Wesley or Craddock? Why should he be here of all
+      places in the world?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All these thoughts surged through his mind as he stood above the patient
+      and watched his slow, labored breathing. That he had been ill for some
+      time was evident in his emaciated face and the deep hollows into which his
+      closed eyes were sunken.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Jemima rose and handed the intruder her chair. He sat down
+      noiselessly beside him. Once his uncle coughed, and in the effort drew the
+      coverlet close about his throat, his eyes still shut; but whether from
+      weakness or drowsiness, Harry could not tell. Presently he shifted his
+      body, and moving his head on the pillow, called softly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Jemima?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The old woman bent over him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Marse George.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Give me a little milk&mdash;my throat troubles me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry drew back into the shadow cast over one end of the cot and rear wall
+      by the low lamp on the hearth. Whether to slip his hand gently over his
+      uncle's and declare himself, or whether to wait until he dozed again and
+      return in the morning, when he would be less tired and could better
+      withstand the shock of the meeting, was the question which disturbed him.
+      And yet he could not leave until he satisfied himself of just what ought
+      to be done. If he left him at all it must be for help of some kind. He
+      leaned over and whispered in Jemima's ear:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Has he had a doctor?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Jemima shook her head. &ldquo;He wouldn't hab none; he ain't been clean beat out
+      till day befo' yisterday, an' den I got skeered an'&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped,
+      leaned closer, clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, and
+      staggered back to her chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George raised his head from the pillow and stared into the shadows.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who is talking? I heard somebody speak? Jemima&mdash;you haven't
+      disobeyed me, have you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry stepped noiselessly to the bedside and laid his fingers on the sick
+      man's wrist:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle George,&rdquo; he said gently.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Temple lowered his head as if to focus his gaze.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, there is some one!&rdquo; he cried in a stronger voice. &ldquo;Who are you, sir?&mdash;not
+      a doctor, are you? I didn't send for you!&mdash;I don't want any doctor, I
+      told my servant so. Jemima!&mdash;Todd!&mdash;why do you&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry tightened his grasp on the emaciated wrist. &ldquo;No, Uncle George, it's
+      Harry! I'm just back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What did he say, Todd? Harry!&mdash;Harry! Did he say he was Harry, or am
+      I losing my mind?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      In his eagerness to understand he lifted himself to a sitting posture, his
+      eyes wandering uneasily over the speaker's body, resting on his head&mdash;on
+      his shoulders, arms, and hands&mdash;as if trying to fix his mind on
+      something which constantly baffled him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry continued to pat his wrist soothingly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, it's Harry, Uncle George,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;But don't talk&mdash;lie
+      down. I'm all right&mdash;I got in yesterday and have been looking for you
+      everywhere. Pawson told me you were at Wesley. I found Todd a few minutes
+      ago by the merest accident, and he brought me here. No, you must lie down&mdash;let
+      me help&mdash;rest yourself on me&mdash;so.&rdquo; He was as tender with him as
+      if he had been his own mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The sick man shook himself free&mdash;he was stronger than Harry thought.
+      He was convinced now that there was some trick being played upon him&mdash;one
+      Jemima in her anxiety had devised.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How dare you, sir, lie to me like that! Who asked you to come here? Todd&mdash;send
+      this fellow from the room!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry drew back out of his uncle's vision and carefully watched the
+      invalid. St. George's mind was evidently unhinged and it would be better
+      not to thwart him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd crept up. He had seen his master like this once before and had had
+      all he could do to keep him in bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dat ain't no doctor, Marse George,&rdquo; he pleaded, his voice trembling.
+      &ldquo;Dat's Marse Harry come back agin alive. It's de hair on his face make him
+      look dat way; dat fool me too. It's Marse Harry, fo' sho'&mdash;I fotch
+      him yere myse'f. He's jes' come from de big ship.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George twisted his head, looked long and earnestly into Harry's face,
+      and with a sudden cry of joy stretched out his hand and motioned him
+      nearer. Harry sank to his knees beside the bed. St. George curved one arm
+      about his neck, drew him tightly to his breast as he would a woman, and
+      fell back upon the pillow with Harry's head next his own. There the two
+      lay still, St. George's eyes half closed, thick sobs stifling his
+      utterance, the tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his thin white
+      fingers caressing the brown hair of the boy he loved. At last, with a
+      heavy, indrawn sigh, not of grief, but of joy, he muttered:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's true, isn't it, my son?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry hugged him the tighter in answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you are home for good?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the pressure. &ldquo;Yes, but don't talk, you must go to sleep. I won't
+      leave you.&rdquo; His own tears were choking him now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then, after a long pause, releasing his grasp: &ldquo;I did not know how weak I
+      was.... Maybe I had better not talk.... Don't stay. Come to-morrow and
+      tell me about it.... There is no bed for you here... I am sorry ... but
+      you must go away&mdash;you couldn't be comfortable.... Todd&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The darky started forward&mdash;both he and Aunt Jemima were crying:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Marse George.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take the lamp and light Mr. Rutter downstairs. To-morrow&mdash;to-morrow,
+      Harry.... My God&mdash;think of it!&mdash;Harry home! Harry home! My Harry
+      home!&rdquo; and he turned his face to the wall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      On the way back&mdash;first to the stable, where he found that the horse
+      had been properly cared for and his bill ready and then to his lodgings,&mdash;Todd
+      told him the story of what had happened: At first his master had firmly
+      intended going to the Eastern Shore&mdash;and for a long stay&mdash;for he
+      had ordered his own and Todd's trunks packed with everything they both
+      owned in the way of clothes. On the next day, however&mdash;the day before
+      the boat left&mdash;Mr. Temple had made a visit to Jemima to bid her
+      good-by, where he learned that her white lodger had decamped between suns,
+      leaving two months board unpaid. In the effort to find this man, or compel
+      his employer to pay his bill, out of some wages still due him&mdash;in
+      both of which he failed&mdash;his master had missed the boat and they were
+      obliged to wait another week. During this interim, not wishing to return
+      to Pawson, and being as he said very comfortable where he was with his two
+      servants to wait upon him, and the place as clean as a pin&mdash;his
+      master had moved his own and Todd's trunk from the steamboat warehouse
+      where they had been stored and had had them brought to Jemima's. Two days
+      later&mdash;whether from exposure in tramping the streets in his efforts
+      to collect the old woman's bill, or whether the change of lodgings had
+      affected him&mdash;he was taken down with a chill and had been in bed ever
+      since. With this situation staring both Jemima and himself in the face&mdash;for
+      neither she nor Mr. Temple had much money left&mdash;Todd had appealed to
+      Gadgem&mdash;(he being the only man in his experience who could always
+      produce a roll of bills when everybody else failed)&mdash;who took him to
+      the stableman whose accounts he collected&mdash;and who had once bought
+      one of St. George's saddles&mdash;and who then and there hired Todd as
+      night attendant. His wages, added to what Jemima could earn over her tubs,
+      had kept the three alive. All this had taken place four weeks or more ago.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      None of all this, he assured Harry, had he told Gadgem or anybody else,
+      his master's positive directions being to keep his abode and his condition
+      a secret from everybody. All the collector knew was that Mr. Temple being
+      too poor to take Todd with him, had left him behind to shift for himself
+      until he could send for him. All the neighborhood knew, to quote Todd's
+      own hilarious chuckle, was that &ldquo;Miss Jemima Johnsing had two mo'
+      boa'ders; one a sick man dat had los' his job an' de udder a yaller nigger
+      who sot up nights watchin' de hosses eat dere haids off.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Since that time his master had had various ups and downs, but although he
+      was still weak he was very much stronger than he had been any time since
+      he had taken to his bed. Only once had he been delirious; then he talked
+      ramblingly about Miss Kate and Marse Harry. This had so scared Aunt Jemima
+      that she had determined to go to Mammy Henny and have her tell Miss Kate,
+      so he could get a doctor&mdash;something he had positively forbidden her
+      to do, but he grew so much better the next day that she had given it up;
+      since that time his mind had not again given way. All he wanted now, so
+      Todd concluded, was a good soup and &ldquo;a drap o' sumpin warmin'&mdash;an'
+      he'd pull thu'. But dere warn't no use tryin' ter git him to take it
+      'cause all he would eat was taters an' corn pone an' milk&mdash;an' sich
+      like, 'cause he said dere warn't money 'nough fer de three&mdash;&rdquo;
+       whereupon Todd turned his head away and caught his breath, and then tried
+      to pass it off as an unbidden choke&mdash;none of which subterfuges
+      deceived Harry in the least.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      When the two arrived off the dimly burning lantern&mdash;it was past ten
+      o'clock&mdash;and pushed in the door of the Sailors' House, Todd received
+      another shock&mdash;one that sent his eyes bulging from his head. That
+      Marse Harry Rutter, who was always a law unto himself, should grow a beard
+      and wear rough clothes, was to be expected&mdash;&ldquo;Dem Rutters was allus
+      dat way&mdash;do jes's dey mineter&mdash;&rdquo; but that the most elegant young
+      man of his day &ldquo;ob de fustest quality,&rdquo; should take up his quarters in a
+      low sailors' retreat, and be looked upon by the men gathered under the
+      swinging lamp around a card table&mdash;(some of whom greeted Harry
+      familiarly)&mdash;as one of their own kind, completely staggered him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The pedler was particularly gracious&mdash;so much so that when he learned
+      that Harry was leaving for good, and had come to get his belongings&mdash;he
+      jumped up and insisted on helping&mdash;at which Harry laughed and
+      assented, and as a further mark of his appreciation presented him with the
+      now useless silks, in addition to the money he gave him&mdash;an act of
+      generosity which formed the sole topic of conversation in the resort for
+      weeks thereafter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Board and lodging paid, the procession took up its return march: Harry in
+      front, Todd, still dazed and still at sea as to the meaning of it all,
+      following behind; the pedler between with Harry's heavy coat, blankets,
+      etc.&mdash;all purchased since his shipwreck&mdash;the party threading the
+      choked-up street until they reached the dingy yard, where the pedler
+      dumped his pack and withdrew, while the darky stowed his load in the
+      basement. This done, the two tiptoed once more up the stairs to where Aunt
+      Jemima awaited them, St. George having fallen asleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Beckoning the old woman away from the bedroom door and into the far corner
+      of the small hall, Harry unfolded to her as much of his plans for the next
+      day as he thought she ought to know. Early in the morning&mdash;before his
+      uncle was astir&mdash;he would betake himself to Kennedy Square; ascertain
+      from Pawson whether his uncle's rooms were still unoccupied, and if such
+      were the case&mdash;and St. George be unable to walk&mdash;would pick him
+      up bodily, wrap him in blankets, carry him in his own arms downstairs,
+      place him in a carriage, and drive him to his former home where he would
+      again pick him up and lay him in his own bed: This would be better than a
+      hundred doctors&mdash;he had tried it himself when he was down with fever
+      and knew. Aunt Jemima was to go ahead and see that these preparations were
+      carried out. Should Alec be able to bring his mother to Kennedy Square in
+      the morning, as he had instructed him to do, then there would indeed be
+      somebody on hand who could nurse him even better than Jemima; should his
+      mother not be there, Jemima would take her place. Nothing of all this, he
+      charged her, was to be told St. George until the hour of departure. To
+      dwell upon the intended move might overexcite him. Then, when everything
+      was ready&mdash;his linen, etc., arranged&mdash;(Jemima was also to look
+      after this)&mdash;he would whisk him off and make him comfortable in his
+      own bed. He would, of course, now that his uncle wished it, keep secret
+      his retreat; although why St. George Wilmot Temple, Esq., or any other
+      gentleman of his standing, should object to being taken care of by his own
+      servants was a thing he could not understand: Pawson, of course, need not
+      know&mdash;nor should any outside person&mdash;not even Gadgem if he came
+      nosing around. To these he would merely say that Mr. Temple had seen fit
+      to leave home and that Mr. Temple had seen fit to return again: that was
+      quite enough for attorneys and collectors. To all the others he would keep
+      his counsel, until St. George himself made confession, which he was pretty
+      sure he would do at the first opportunity.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This decided upon he bade Jemima good-night, gave her explicit directions
+      to call him, should his uncle awake (her own room opened out of St.
+      George's) spread his blanket in the cramped hall outside the sick man's
+      door&mdash;he had not roughed it on shipboard and in the wilderness all
+      these years without knowing something of the soft side of a plank&mdash;and
+      throwing his heavy ship's coat over him fell fast asleep.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      When the first glimmer of the gray dawn stole through the small window at
+      the end of the narrow hall, and laid its chilled fingers on Harry's
+      upturned face, it found him still asleep. His ride to Moorlands and back&mdash;his
+      muscles unused for months to the exercise&mdash;had tired him. The trials
+      of the day, too, those with his father and his Uncle George, had tired him
+      the more&mdash;and so he had slept on as a child sleeps&mdash;as a
+      perfectly healthy man sleeps&mdash;both mind and body drinking in the
+      ozone of a new courage and a new hope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With the first ray of the joyous sun riding full tilt across his face, he
+      opened his eyes, threw off the cloak, and sprang to his feet. For an
+      instant he looked wonderingly about as if in doubt whether to call the
+      watch or begin the hunt for his cattle. Then the pine door caught his eye
+      and the low, measured breathing of his uncle fell upon his ear, and with a
+      quick lift of his arms, his strong hands thumping his broad chest, he
+      stretched himself to his full height: he had work to do, and he must begin
+      at once.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Jemima was already at her duties. She had tiptoed past his sleeping
+      body an hour before, and after listening to St. George's breathing had
+      plunged into her tubs; the cat's cradle in the dingy court-yard being
+      already gay with various colored fragments, including Harry's red flannel
+      shirts which Todd had found in a paper parcel, and which the old woman had
+      pounced upon at sight. She insisted on making him a cup of coffee, but he
+      had no time for such luxuries. He would keep on, he said, to Kennedy
+      Square, find Pawson, ascertain if St. George's old rooms were still
+      unoccupied; notify him of Mr. Temple's return; have his bed made and fires
+      properly lighted; stop at the livery stable, wake up Todd, if that darky
+      had overslept himself&mdash;quite natural when he had been up almost all
+      night&mdash;engage a carriage to be at Jemima's at four o'clock, and then
+      return to get everything ready for the picking-up-and-carrying-downstairs
+      process.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And all this he did do; and all this he told Jemima he had done when he
+      swung into the court-yard an hour later, a spring to his heels and a
+      cheery note in his voice that had not been his for years. The reaction
+      that hope brings to youth had set in. He was alive and at home; his Uncle
+      George was where he could get his hands on him&mdash;in a minute&mdash;by
+      the mounting of the stairs; and Alec and his mother within reach!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the same glad song was in his heart when he opened his uncle's door
+      after he had swallowed his coffee&mdash;Jemima had it ready for him this
+      time&mdash;and thrusting in his head cried out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;We are going to get you out of here, Uncle George!&rdquo; This with a laugh&mdash;one
+      of his old contagious laughs that was music in the sick man's ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When?&rdquo; asked the invalid, his face radiant. He had been awake an hour
+      wondering what it all meant. He had even thought of calling to Jemima to
+      reassure himself that it was not a dream, until he heard her over her tubs
+      and refrained from disturbing her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, pretty soon! I have just come from Pawson's. Fogbin hasn't put in an
+      appearance and there's nobody in the rooms and hasn't been anybody there
+      since you left. He can't understand it, nor can I&mdash;and I don't want
+      to. I have ordered the bed made and a fire started in both the chamber and
+      the old dining-room, and if anybody objects he has got to say so to me,
+      and I am a very uncomfortable person to say some kinds of things to
+      nowadays. So up you get when the time comes; and Todd and Jemima are to go
+      too. I've got money enough, anyhow, to begin on. Aunt Jemima says you had
+      a good night and it won't be long now before you are yourself again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The radiant smile on the sick man's face blossomed into a laugh: &ldquo;Yes&mdash;the
+      best night that I have had since I was taken ill, and&mdash;Where did you
+      sleep, my son?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Me!&mdash;Oh, I had a fine time&mdash;long, well-ventilated room with two
+      windows and private staircase; nice pine bedstead&mdash;very comfortable
+      place for this part of the town.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George looked at him and his eyes filled. His mind was neither on his
+      own questions nor on Harry's answers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get a chair, Harry, and sit by me so I can look at you closer. How fine
+      and strong you are my son&mdash;not like your father&mdash;you're like
+      your mother. And you've broadened out&mdash;mentally as well as
+      physically. Pretty hard I tell you to spoil a gentleman&mdash;more
+      difficult still to spoil a Rutter. But you must get that beard off&mdash;it
+      isn't becoming to you, and then somebody might think you disguised
+      yourself on purpose. I didn't know you at first, neither did Jemima&mdash;and
+      you don't want anybody else to make that kind of a mistake.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;My father did, yesterday&mdash;&rdquo; Harry rejoined quietly, dropping into
+      Jemima's chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George half raised himself from his bed: &ldquo;You have seen him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;and I wish I hadn't. But I hunted everywhere for you and then
+      got a horse and rode out home. He didn't know me&mdash;that is, I'm pretty
+      sure he didn't&mdash;but he cursed me all the same. My mother and old
+      Alec, I hope, will come in to-day&mdash;but father's chapter is closed
+      forever. I have been a fool to hope for anything else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Drove you out! Oh, no&mdash;NO! Harry! Impossible!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But he did&mdash;&rdquo; and then followed an account of all the wanderer had
+      passed through from the time he had set foot on shore to the moment of
+      meeting Todd and himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For some minutes St. George lay staring at the ceiling. It was all a
+      horrid, nightmare to him. Talbot deserved nothing but contempt and he
+      would get it so far as he was concerned. He agreed with Harry that all
+      reconciliation was now a thing of the past; the only solution possible was
+      that Talbot was out of his senses&mdash;the affair having undermined his
+      reason. He had heard of such cases and had doubted them&mdash;he was
+      convinced now that they could be true. His answer, therefore, to Harry's
+      next question&mdash;one about his lost sweetheart&mdash;was given with a
+      certain hesitation. As long as the memory of Rutter's curses rankled
+      within him all reference to Kate's affairs&mdash;even the little he knew
+      himself&mdash;must be made with some circumspection. There was no hope in
+      that direction either, but he did not want to tell him so outright; nor
+      did he want to dwell too long upon the subject.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And I suppose Kate is married by this time, Uncle George,&rdquo; Harry said at
+      last in a casual tone, &ldquo;is she not?&rdquo; (He had been leading up to it rather
+      skilfully, but there had been no doubt in his uncle's mind as to his
+      intention.) &ldquo;I saw the house lighted up, night before last when I passed,
+      and a lot of people about, so I thought it might be either the wedding or
+      the reception.&rdquo; The question had left his lips as one shoots an arrow in
+      the dark&mdash;hit or miss&mdash;as if he did not care which. He too
+      realized that this was no time to open wounds, certainly not in his
+      uncle's heart; and yet he could wait no longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;I don't think the wedding has taken place,&rdquo; St. George replied
+      vaguely. &ldquo;The servants would know if it had&mdash;they know everything&mdash;and
+      Aunt Jemima would be the first to have told me. The house being lighted up
+      is no evidence. They have been giving a series of entertainments this
+      winter and there were more to come when I last saw Kate, which was one
+      night at Richard Horn's. But let us close that chapter too, my boy. You
+      and I will take a new lease of life from now on. You have already put
+      fresh blood into my veins&mdash;I haven't felt so well for weeks. Now tell
+      me about yourself. Your last letter reached me six months ago, if I
+      remember right. You were then in Rio and were going up into the mountains.
+      Did you go?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;up into the Rio Abaste country where they had discovered
+      diamonds as big as hens' eggs&mdash;one had been sold for nearly a quarter
+      of a million dollars&mdash;and everybody was crazy. I didn't find any
+      diamonds nor anything else but starvation, so I herded cattle, that being
+      the only thing I knew anything about&mdash;how to ride&mdash;and slept out
+      on the lowlands sometimes under a native mat and sometimes under the
+      kindly stars. Then we had a revolution and cattle raids, and one night I
+      came pretty near being chewed up by a puma&mdash;and so it went. I made a
+      little money in rawhides after I got to know the natives, and I'm going
+      back to make some more; and you are going with me when we get things
+      straightened out. I wouldn't have come home except that I heard you had
+      been turned out neck and crop from Kennedy Square. One of Mr. Seymour's
+      clerks stopped in Rio on his way to the River Plate and did some business
+      with an English agent whom I met afterward at a hacienda, and who told me
+      about you when he learned I was from Kennedy Square. And when I think of
+      it all, Uncle George, and what you have suffered on account of me!&rdquo;&mdash;Here
+      his voice faltered. &ldquo;No!&mdash;I won't talk about it&mdash;I can't. I have
+      spent too many sleepless nights over it: I have been hungry and half dead,
+      but I have kept on&mdash;and I am not through: I'll pull out yet and put
+      you on your feet once more if I live!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George laid his hand tenderly on the young man's wrist. He knew how
+      the boy felt about it. That was one of the things he loved him for.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And so you started home when you heard it,&rdquo; he went on, clearing his
+      throat. &ldquo;That was just like you, you dear fellow! And you haven't come
+      home an hour too soon. I should have been measured for a pine coffin in
+      another week.&rdquo; The choke was quite in evidence now. &ldquo;You see, I really
+      couldn't go to Coston's when I thought it all over. I had made up my mind
+      to go for a week or so until I saw this place, and then I determined I
+      would stop with Jemima. I could eke out an existence here on what I had
+      left and still feel like a gentleman, but I couldn't settle down on dear
+      Peggy Coston and be anything but a poltroon. As to my making a living at
+      the law&mdash;that was pure moonshine. I haven't opened a law book for
+      twenty years and now it's too late. People of our class&rdquo;&mdash;here he
+      looked away from his companion and talked straight at the foot of the bed&mdash;&ldquo;People
+      of our class my boy,&rdquo; he repeated slowly&mdash;&ldquo;when they reach the neck
+      and crop period you spoke of, are at the end of their rope. There are then
+      but two things left&mdash;either to become the inmate of a poorhouse or to
+      become a sponge. I prefer this bare room as a happy medium, and I am
+      content to stay where I am as long as we three can keep body and soul
+      together. There is&mdash;so Pawson told me before I left my house&mdash;a
+      little money coming in from a ground rent&mdash;a few months off, perhaps,
+      but more than enough to pay Todd back&mdash;he gives Jemima every cent of
+      his wages&mdash;and when this does come in and I can get out once more,
+      I'm going to order my life so I can make a respectable showing of some
+      kind.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He paused for a moment, fastened his gaze again on Harry, and continued:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;As to my going back to Pawson's, I am not altogether sure that that is
+      the wisest thing to do. I may have to leave again as soon as I get
+      comfortably settled in my bed. I turned out at his bidding before and may
+      have to turn again when he says the word. So don't kindle too many fires
+      with Pawson's wood&mdash;I hadn't a log to my name when I left&mdash;or it
+      may warm somebody's else's shins besides mine,&rdquo; and a merry twinkle shone
+      in his eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry burst out laughing.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wood or no wood, Uncle George, I'm going to be landlord now&mdash;Pawson
+      can move out and graze his cattle somewhere else. I'm going to take charge
+      of the hut and stock and the pack mules and provisions&mdash;and with a
+      gun, if necessary&mdash;&rdquo; and he levelled an imaginary fowling-piece with
+      a boyish gesture.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't you try to move anybody without an order of the court!&rdquo; cried St.
+      George, joining in the merriment. &ldquo;With that mortgage hanging over
+      everything and Gorsuch and your father cudgelling their brains to
+      foreclose it, you won't have a ghost of a chance. Come to think of it,
+      however, I might help&mdash;for a few weeks' expenses, at least. How would
+      this do?&rdquo; Here he had all he could do to straighten his face: &ldquo;'Attention
+      now&mdash;Hats off in the court-room. For sale or hire! Immediate
+      delivery. One first-class gentleman, in reasonable repair. Could be made
+      useful in opening and shutting doors, or in dancing attendance upon
+      children under one year of age, or in keeping flies from bedridden folk.
+      Apply, and so forth,' Gadgem could fix it. He has done the most marvellous
+      things in the last year or two&mdash;extraordinary, really! Ask Todd about
+      it some time&mdash;he'll tell you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were both roaring with laughter, St. George so buoyed up by the
+      contagious spirit of the young fellow that he insisted on getting out of
+      bed and sitting in Aunt Jemima's rocking chair with a blanket across his
+      knees.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All the morning did this happy talk go on:&mdash;the joyous unconfined
+      talk of two men who had hungered and thirsted for each other through weary
+      bitter days and nights, and whose coming together was like the mingling of
+      two streams long kept apart, and now one great river flowing to a common
+      outlet and a common good.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And not only did their talk cover the whole range of Harry's experiences
+      from the time he left the ship for his sojourn in the hill country and the
+      mountains beyond, and all of St. George's haps and mishaps, with every
+      single transaction of Gadgem and Pawson&mdash;loving cup, dogs and all&mdash;but
+      when their own personal news was exhausted they both fell back on their
+      friends, such as Richard Horn and old Judge Pancoast; when he had seen Mr.
+      Kennedy and Mr. Latrobe&mdash;yes, and what of Mr. Poe&mdash;had he
+      written any more?&mdash;and were his habits any better?&mdash;etc., etc.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I have seen Mr. Poe several times since that unfortunate dinner, Harry;
+      the last time when he was good enough to call upon me on his way to
+      Richmond. He was then particularly himself. You would not have known him&mdash;grave,
+      dignified, perfectly dressed&mdash;charming, delightful. He came in quite
+      late&mdash;indeed I was going to bed when I heard his knock and, Todd
+      being out, I opened the door myself. There was some of that Black Warrior
+      left, and I brought out the decanter, but he shook his head courteously
+      and continued his talk. He asked after you. Wonderful man, Harry&mdash;a
+      man you never forget once you know him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George dragged the pine table nearer his chair and moistened his lips
+      with the glass of milk which Jemima had set beside him. Then he went on:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You remember Judge Giles, do you not? Lives here on St. Paul Street&mdash;yes&mdash;of
+      course you do&mdash;for he is a great friend of your father's and you must
+      have met him repeatedly at Moorlands. Well, one day at the club he told me
+      the most extraordinary story about Mr. Poe&mdash;this was some time after
+      you'd gone. It seems that the judge was at work in his study late one
+      snowy night when his doorbell sounded. Outside stood a man with his coat
+      buttoned close about his throat&mdash;evidently a gentleman&mdash;who
+      asked him politely for a sheet of paper and a pen. You know the judge, and
+      how kind and considerate he is. Well, of course he asked him in, drew out
+      a chair at his desk and stepped into the next room to leave him
+      undisturbed. After a time, not hearing him move, he looked in and to his
+      surprise the stranger had disappeared. On the desk lay a sheet of paper on
+      which was written three verses of a poem. It was his 'Bells.' The judge
+      has had them framed, so I hear. There was enough snow on the ground to
+      bring out the cutters, and Poe had the rhythm of the bells ringing in his
+      head and being afraid he would forget it he pulled the judge's doorbell. I
+      wish he'd rung mine. I must get the poem for you, Harry&mdash;it's as
+      famous now as 'The Raven.' Richard, I hear, reads it so that you can
+      distinguish the sound of each bell.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he taught me a lesson,&rdquo; said Harry, tucking the blanket close
+      around his uncle's knees&mdash;&ldquo;one I have never forgotten, and never
+      will. He sent me to bed a wreck, I remember, but I got up the next morning
+      with a new mast in me and all my pumps working.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;&rdquo; and St. George smiled meaningly and tossed his hand up
+      as if emptying a glass.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;just that&mdash;&rdquo; rejoined Harry with a nod. &ldquo;It's so hot out
+      where I have been that a glass of native rum is as bad as a snake bite and
+      everybody except a native leaves it alone. But if I had gone to the North
+      Pole instead of the equator I would have done the same. Men like you and
+      father, and Mr. Richard Horn and Mr. Kennedy, who have been brought up on
+      moderation, may feel as they choose about it, but I'm going to let it
+      alone. It's the devil when it gets into your blood and mine's not made for
+      it. I'd like to thank Mr. Poe if I dared, which I wouldn't, of course, if
+      I ever saw him, for what he did for me. I wouldn't be surprised if he
+      would give a good deal himself to do the same&mdash;or has he pulled out?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He never has pulled in, Harry&mdash;not continuously. Richard has the
+      right of it. Poe is a man pursued by a devil and lives always on the watch
+      to prevent the fiend from getting the best of him. Months at a time he
+      wins and then there comes a day when the devil gets on top. He says
+      himself&mdash;he told me this the last time I saw him&mdash;that he really
+      lives a life devoted to his literary work; that he shuts himself up from
+      everybody; and that the desire for society only comes upon him when he's
+      excited by drink. Then, and only then, does he go among his fellows. There
+      is some truth in that, my son, for as long as I have known him I have
+      never seen him in his cups except that one night at my house. A courteous,
+      well-bred gentleman, my boy&mdash;most punctilious about all his
+      obligations and very honest about his failings. All he said to me the next
+      day when he sobered up&mdash;I kept him all that night, you remember&mdash;was:
+      'I was miserably weak and inexcusably drunk last night, Mr. Temple. If
+      that was all it would make no difference; I have been very drunk before,
+      and I will be very drunk again; but in addition to my being drunk I
+      insulted you and your friends and ruined your dinner. That makes every
+      difference. Don't let it cause a break between us. Let me come again. And
+      now please brush it from your mind. If you knew how I suffer over this
+      fiend who tortures and gloats over me you'd only have the greatest pity
+      for me, in your heart.' Then he wrung my hand and left the house.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, that's all any of us could do,&rdquo; sighed Harry, leaning back in his
+      chair, his eyes on the ceiling. &ldquo;It makes some difference, however, of
+      whom you ask forgiveness. I've been willing to say the same kind of thing
+      to my father ever since my affair with Mr. Willits, but it would have
+      fallen on deaf ears. I had another trial at it yesterday, and you know
+      what happened.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think your father knew you, Harry,&rdquo; protested St. George, with a
+      negative wave of his hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I hope he didn't&mdash;I shouldn't like to think he did. But, by heaven!
+      it broke my heart to see him, Uncle George. You would hardly know him.
+      Even his voice has changed and the shade over his eyes and the way he
+      twists his head when he looks at you really gave me a creepy feeling,&rdquo; and
+      the young man passed his fingers across his own eyes as if to shut out
+      some hideous object.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was he looking straight at you when he ordered you from the room?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Straight as he could.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, let us try and think it was the beard. And that reminds me, son,
+      that it's got to come off, and right away. When Todd comes in he'll find
+      my razors and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;I'll look up a barber.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Not down in this part of the town,&rdquo; exclaimed St. George with a
+      suggestive grimace.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;I'll go up to Guy's. There used to be an old negro there who
+      looked after us young fellows when our beards began to sprout. He'll take
+      care of it all right. While I'm out I'll stop and send Todd back. I'm
+      going to end his apprenticeship to-day, and so he'll help you dress.
+      Nothing like getting into your clothes when you're well enough to get out
+      of bed; I've done it more than once,&rdquo; and with a pat on his uncle's
+      shoulder and the readjustment of the blanket, he closed the door behind
+      him and left the room.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Everything is working fine, auntie,&rdquo; he cried gaily as he passed the old
+      woman who was hanging out the last of her wash. &ldquo;I'll be back in an hour.
+      Don't tell him yet&mdash;&rdquo; and he strode out of the yard on his way
+      uptown.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXVIII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Intruders of all kinds had thrust their heads between the dripping,
+      slightly moist, and wholly dry installments of Aunt Jemima's Monday wash,
+      and each and every one had been assailed by a vocabulary hurled at them
+      through the creaky gate, and as far out as the street&mdash;peddlers;
+      beggars; tramps; loose darkies with no visible means of support, who had
+      smelt the cooking in the air&mdash;even goats with an acquired taste for
+      stocking legs and window curtains&mdash;all of whom had either been
+      invited out, whirled out, or thrown out, dependent upon the damage
+      inflicted, the size of the favors asked, or the length of space
+      intervening between Jemima's right arm and their backs. In all of these
+      instances the old cook had been the broom and the intruders the dust.
+      Being an expert in its use the intruders had succumbed before they had
+      gotten through their first sentence. In the case of the goat even that
+      privilege was denied him; it was the handle and not the brush-part which
+      ended the argument. To see Aunt Jemima get rid of a goat in one whack and
+      two jumps was not only a lesson in condensed conversation, but furnished a
+      sight one rarely forgot&mdash;the goat never!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This morning the situation was reversed. It was Aunt Jemima who came
+      flying upstairs, her eyes popping from her head, her plump hands flattened
+      against her big, heaving bosom, her breath gone in the effort to tell her
+      dreadful news before she should drop dead.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marse George! who d'ye think's downstairs?&rdquo; she gasped, bursting in the
+      door of his bedroom, without even the customary tap. &ldquo;Oh, bless Gawd! dat
+      you'se outen dat bed! and dressed and tryin' yo' po' legs about the room.
+      He's comin' up. Got a man wid him I ain't neber see befo'. Says he's
+      a-lookin' fer somebody! Git in de closet an' I'll tell him you'se out an'
+      den I'll run an' watch for Marse Harry at de gate. Oh, I doan' like dis
+      yere bus'ness,&rdquo; and she began to wring her hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George, who had been listening to the old woman with mingled feelings
+      of wonder and curiosity, raised his hand to silence her. Whether she had
+      gone daft or was more than usually excited he could not for the moment
+      decide.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Get your breath, Jemima, and tell me what you're talking about. Who's
+      downstairs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ain't I jes' don' tol' yer? Got a look on him make ye shiver all over;
+      says he's gwineter s'arch de house. He's got a constable wid him&mdash;dat
+      is, he's got a man dat looks like a constable, an'&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George laid his hands on the old woman's shoulders, and turned her
+      about.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hush your racket this instant, and tell me who is downstairs?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marse Talbot Rutter,&rdquo; she wheezed; &ldquo;come f'om de country&mdash;got mud
+      all ober his boots.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Mr. Harry's father?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Aunt Jemima choked and nodded: there was no breath left for more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who did he ask for?&rdquo; St. George was calm enough now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't ask fer nobody; he say, 'I'm lookin' fer a man dat come in yere
+      las' night.' I see he didn't know me an' I neber let on. Den he say, 'Hab
+      you got any boa'ders yere?' an' I say, 'I got one,' an' den he 'tempted
+      ter pass me an' I say, 'Wait a minute 'til I see ef he's outen de bed.'
+      Now, what's I gwineter do? He doan' mean no good to Marse Harry an' he'll
+      dribe him 'way ag'in, an' he jes' come back an' you gittin' well a-lovin'
+      of him&mdash;an'&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      An uncertain step was heard in the hall.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Dat's him,&rdquo; Jemima whispered hoarsely, behind her hand, &ldquo;what'll I do?
+      Doan' let him come in. I'll&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George moved past her and pushed back the door.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Colonel Rutter stood outside.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The two men looked into each other's faces.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am in search, sir,&rdquo; the colonel began, shading his eyes with his
+      fingers, the brighter light of the room weakening his sight, &ldquo;for a young
+      sailor whom I am informed stopped here last night, and who... ST. GEORGE!
+      What in the name of God are you doing in a place like this?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Come inside, Talbot,&rdquo; Temple replied calmly, his eyes fixed on Rutter's
+      drawn face and faltering gaze. &ldquo;Aunt Jemima, hand Colonel Rutter a chair.
+      You will excuse me if I sit down&mdash;I am just out of bed after a long
+      illness, and am a little weak,&rdquo; and he settled slowly into his seat. &ldquo;My
+      servant tells me that you are looking for a&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George paused. Rutter was paying no more attention to what he said
+      than if he had been in the next room. He was straining his eyes about the
+      apartment; taking in the empty bed from which St. George had just arisen,
+      the cheap chairs and small pine table and the kitchen plates and cup which
+      still held the remains of St. George's breakfast. He waited until Jemima
+      had backed out of the door, her scared face still a tangle of emotions&mdash;fear
+      for her master's safety uppermost. His eyes again veered to St. George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What does it all mean, Temple?&rdquo; he asked in a dazed way.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't think that subject is under discussion, Talbot, and we will,
+      therefore, pass it. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't be a damned fool, St. George! Don't you see I'm half crazy? Harry
+      has come back and he is hiding somewhere in this neighborhood.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How do you know?&rdquo; he inquired coolly. He did not intend to help Rutter
+      one iota in his search until he found out why he wanted Harry. No more
+      cursing of either his son or himself&mdash;that was another chapter which
+      was closed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I've been hunting for him all day. He rode out to Moorlands
+      yesterday, and I didn't know him, he's so changed. But think of it! St.
+      George, I ordered him out of my office. I took him for a road-peddler. And
+      he's going to sea again&mdash;he told Alec as much. I tell you I have got
+      to get hold of him! Don't sit there and stare at me, man! tell me where I
+      can find my son!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What made you suppose he was here, Talbot?&rdquo; The same cool, measured
+      speech and manner, but with a more open mind behind it now. The pathetic
+      aspect of the man, and the acute suffering shown in every tone of his
+      voice, had begun to tell upon the invalid.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because a man I've got downstairs brought Harry here last night. He is
+      not positive, as it was quite dark, but he thinks this is the place. I
+      went first to the Barkeley Line, found they had a ship in&mdash;the
+      Mohican&mdash;and saw the captain, who told me of a man who came aboard at
+      Rio. Then I learned where he had put up for the night&mdash;a low sailors'
+      retreat&mdash;and found this peddler who said he had sold Harry the silks
+      which he offered me. He brought me here.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, I can't help you any. There are only two rooms&mdash;I occupy this
+      and my old cook, Jemima, has the other. I have been here for over a
+      month.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here! in this God-forsaken place! Why, we thought you had gone to
+      Virginia. That's why we have had no answers to our letters, and we've
+      hunted high and low for you. Certainly you have heard about the Patapsco
+      and what&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I certainly have heard nothing, Talbot, and as I have just told you, I'd
+      rather you would not discuss my affairs. The last time you saw fit to
+      encroach upon them brought only bitterness, and I prefer not to repeat it.
+      Anything you have to say about Harry I will gladly hear. Go on&mdash;I'm
+      listening.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;For God's sake, St. George, don't take that tone with me! If you knew how
+      wretched I am you'd be sorry for me. I am a broken-down man! If Harry goes
+      away again without my seeing him I don't want to live another day. When
+      Alec came running back last night and told me that I had cursed my son to
+      his face, I nearly went out of my mind. I knew when I saw Alec's anger
+      that it was true, and I knew, too, what a brute I had been. I ran to
+      Annie's room, took her in my arms, and asked her pardon. All night I
+      walked my room; at daylight I rang for Alec, sent for Matthew, and he
+      hooked up the carryall and we came in here. Annie wanted to come with me,
+      but I wouldn't let her. I knew Seymour wasn't out of bed that early, and
+      so I drove straight to the shipping office and waited until it was open,
+      and I've been hunting for him ever since. You and I have been boys
+      together, St. George&mdash;don't lay up against me all the insulting
+      things I've said to you&mdash;all the harm I've done you! God knows I've
+      repented of it! Will you forgive me, St. George, for the sake of the old
+      days&mdash;for the sake of my boy to whom you have been a father? Will you
+      give me your hand? What in the name of common sense should you and I be
+      enemies for? I, who owe you more than I owe any man in the world! Will you
+      help me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George was staring now. He bent forward, gripped the arms of his chair
+      for a better purchase, and lifted himself to his feet. There he stood
+      swaying, Rutter's outstretched hand in both of his, his whole nature
+      stirred&mdash;only one thought in his heart&mdash;to wipe out the past and
+      bring father and son together.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Talbot&mdash;I'll forgive you and I'll help you&mdash;I have helped
+      you! Harry will be here in a few minutes&mdash;I sent him out to get his
+      beard shaved off&mdash;that's why you didn't know him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel reeled and but for St. George's hand would have lost his
+      balance. All the blood was gone from his cheeks. He tried to speak, but
+      the lips refused to move. For an instant St. George thought he would sink
+      to the floor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You say&mdash;Harry... is here!&rdquo; he stammered out at last, catching
+      wildly at Temple's other hand to steady himself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he came across Todd by the merest accident or he would have gone to
+      the Eastern Shore to look me up. Listen!&mdash;that's his step now! Turn
+      that door knob and hold out your hands to him, and after you've got your
+      arms around him get down on your knees and thank your God that you've got
+      such a son! I do, every hour I live!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The door swung wide and Harry strode in: his eyes glistening, his cheeks
+      aglow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Up, are you, and in your clothes!&rdquo; he cried joyfully, all the freshness
+      of the morning in his voice. &ldquo;Well, that's something like! How do you like
+      me now?&mdash;smooth as a marlinspike and my hair trimmed in the latest
+      fashion, so old Bones says. He didn't know me either till he got clear
+      down below my mouth and when my chin began to show he gave a&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stopped and stared at his father, who had been hidden from sight by the
+      swinging door. The surprise was so great that his voice clogged in his
+      throat. Rutter stood like one who had seen an apparition.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George broke the silence:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It's all right, Harry&mdash;give your father your hand.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel made a step forward, threw out one arm as if to regain his
+      equilibrium and swayed toward a chair, his frame shaking convulsively,
+      wholly unstrung, sobbing like a child. Harry sprang to catch him and the
+      two sank down together&mdash;no word of comfort&mdash;only the mute appeal
+      of touch&mdash;the brown hand wet with his father's tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For some seconds neither spoke, then Rutter raised his head and looked
+      into his son's face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I didn't know it was you, Harry. I have been hunting you all day to ask
+      your pardon.&rdquo; It was the memory of the last indignity he had heaped upon
+      him that tortured him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I knew you didn't, father.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Don't go away again, Harry, please don't, my son!&rdquo; he pleaded, strangling
+      the tears, trying to regain his self-control&mdash;tears had often of late
+      moistened Rutter's lids. &ldquo;Your mother can't stand it another year, and I'm
+      breaking up&mdash;half blind. You won't go, will you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No&mdash;not right away, father&mdash;we'll talk of that later.&rdquo; He was
+      still in the dark as to how it had come about. All he knew was that for
+      the first time in all his life his father had asked his pardon, and for
+      the first time in his life the barrier which held them apart had been
+      broken down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel braced himself in his seat in one supreme effort to get
+      himself in hand. One of his boasts was that he had never lost his
+      self-control. Harry rose to his feet and stood beside him. St. George,
+      trembling from his own weakness, a great throb of thankfulness in his
+      heart, had kept his place in his chair, his eyes turned away from the
+      scene. His own mind had also undergone a change. He had always known that
+      somewhere down in Talbot Rutter's heart&mdash;down underneath the strata
+      of pride and love of power, there could be found the heart of a father&mdash;indeed
+      he had often predicted to himself just such a coming together. It was the
+      boy's pluck and manliness that had done it; a manliness free from all
+      truckling or cringing. And then his tenderness over the man who had of all
+      others in the world wronged him most! He could hardly keep his glad hands
+      off the boy.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You will go home with me, of course, won't you, Harry?&rdquo; He must ask his
+      consent now&mdash;this son of his whom he had driven from his home and
+      insulted in the presence of his friends at the club, and whom he could see
+      was now absolutely independent of him&mdash;and what was more to the point
+      absolutely his own master.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, of course, I'll go home with you, father,&rdquo; came the respectful
+      answer, &ldquo;if mother isn't coming in. Did she or Alec say anything to you
+      about it before you left?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, she isn't coming in to-day&mdash;I wouldn't let her. It was too early
+      when I started. But that's not what I mean,&rdquo; he went on with increasing
+      excitement. &ldquo;I want you to go home with me and stay forever; I want to
+      forget the past; I want St. George to hear me say so! Come and take your
+      place at the head of the estate&mdash;I will have Gorsuch arrange the
+      papers to-morrow. You and St. George must go back with me to-day. I have
+      the large carryall&mdash;Matthew is with me&mdash;he stopped at the corner&mdash;he's
+      there now.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That's very kind of you, father,&rdquo; Harry rejoined calmly, concealing as
+      best he could his disappointment at not being able to see his mother.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes! of course you will go with me,&rdquo; his father continued in nervous,
+      jerky tones. &ldquo;Please send the servant for Matthew, my coachman, and have
+      him drive up. As for you, St. George, you can't stay here another hour.
+      How you ever got here is more than I can understand. Moorlands is the
+      place for you both&mdash;you'll get well there. My carriage is a very easy
+      one. Perhaps I had better go for Matthew myself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, don't move, Talbot,&rdquo; rejoined St. George in a calm firm voice
+      wondering at Talbot's manner. He had never seen him like this. All his
+      old-time measured talk and manner were gone; he was like some breathless,
+      hunted man pleading for his life. &ldquo;I'm very grateful to you but I shall
+      stay here. Harry, will you kindly go for Matthew?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Stay here!&mdash;for how long?&rdquo; cried the colonel in astonishment, his
+      glance following Harry as he left the room in obedience to his uncle's
+      request.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, perhaps for the balance of the winter.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;In this hole?&rdquo; His voice had grown stronger.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Certainly, why not?&rdquo; replied St. George simply, moving his chair so that
+      his guest might see him the better. &ldquo;My servants are taking care of me. I
+      can pay my way here, and it's about the only place in which I can pay it,
+      and I want to tell you frankly, Talbot, that I am very happy to be here&mdash;am
+      very glad, really, to get such a place. No one could be more devoted than
+      my Todd and Jemima&mdash;I shall never forget their kindness.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you're not a pauper?&rdquo; cried the colonel in some heat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;That was what you were once good enough to call me&mdash;the last time we
+      met. The only change is that then I owed Pawson and that now I owe Todd,&rdquo;
+       he replied, trying to repress a smile, as if the humor of the situation
+      would overcome him if he was not careful. &ldquo;Thank you very much, Talbot&mdash;and
+      I mean every word of it&mdash;but I'll stay where I am, at least for the
+      present.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But the bank is on its legs again,&rdquo; rebounded the colonel, ignoring all
+      reference to the past, his voice gaining in volume.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So am I,&rdquo; laughed St. George, tapping his lean thighs with his
+      transparent fingers&mdash;&ldquo;on a very shaky pair of legs&mdash;so shaky
+      that I shall have to go to bed again pretty soon.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you're coming out all right, St. George!&rdquo; Rutter had squared himself
+      in his chair and was now looking straight at his host. &ldquo;Gorsuch has
+      written you half a dozen letters about it and not a word from you in
+      reply. Now I see why. But all that will come out in time, I tell you.
+      You're not going to stay here for an hour longer.&rdquo; His old personality was
+      beginning to assert itself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The future doesn't interest me, Talbot,&rdquo; smiled St. George in perfect
+      good humor. &ldquo;In my experience my future has always been worse than my
+      past.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But that is no reason why you shouldn't go home with me now and let us
+      take care of you,&rdquo; Rutter cried in a still more positive tone. &ldquo;Annie will
+      be delighted. Stay a month with me&mdash;stay a year. After what I owe
+      you, St. George, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You have already done it, Talbot&mdash;every obligation is wiped out,&rdquo;
+       rejoined St. George in a satisfied tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;How?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;By coming here and asking Harry's pardon&mdash;that is more to me than
+      all the things I have ever possessed,&rdquo; and his voice broke as he thought
+      of the change that had taken place in Harry's fortunes in the last half
+      hour.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then come out to Moorlands and let me prove it!&rdquo; exclaimed the colonel,
+      leaning forward in his eagerness and grasping St. George by the sleeve.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; replied St. George in appreciative but positive tones&mdash;showing
+      his mind was fully made up. &ldquo;If I go anywhere I'll go back to my house on
+      Kennedy Square&mdash;that is to the little of it that is still mine. I'll
+      stay there for a day or two, to please Harry&mdash;or until they turn me
+      out again, and then I'll come back here. Change of air may do me good, and
+      besides, Jemima and Todd should get a rest.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel rose to his feet: &ldquo;You shall do no such thing!&rdquo; he exploded.
+      The old dominating air was in full swing now. &ldquo;I tell you you WILL come
+      with me! Damn you, St. George!&mdash;if you don't I'll never speak to you
+      again, so help me, God!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George threw back his head and burst into a roar of laughter in which,
+      after a moment of angry hesitation, Rutter joined. Then he reached down
+      and with his hand on St. George's shoulder, said in a coaxing tone&mdash;&ldquo;Come
+      along to Moorlands, old fellow&mdash;I'd be so glad to have you, and so
+      will Annie, and we'll live over the old days.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry's re-entrance cut short the answer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No father,&rdquo; he cried cheerily, taking up the refrain. He had seen the
+      friendly caress and had heard the last sentence. &ldquo;Uncle George is still
+      too ill, and too weak for so long a drive. It's only the excitement over
+      my return that keeps him up now&mdash;and he'll collapse if we don't look
+      out&mdash;but he'll collapse in a better place than this!&rdquo; he added with
+      joyous emphasis. &ldquo;Todd is outside, the hack is at the gate, and Jemima is
+      now waiting for him in his old room at home. Give me your arm, you blessed
+      old cripple, and let me help you downstairs. Out of the way, father, or
+      he'll change his mind and I'll have to pick him up bodily and carry him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George shot a merry glance at Harry from under his eyebrows, and with
+      a wave of his hand and a deprecating shake of his head at the colonel
+      said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;These rovers and freebooters, Talbot, have so lorded it over their serfs
+      that they've lost all respect for their betters. Give me your hand, you
+      vagabond, and if you break my neck I'll make you bury me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      The colonel looked on silently and a sharp pain gripped his throat. When,
+      in all his life, had he ever been spoken to by his boy in that spirit, and
+      when in all his life had he ever seen that same tenderness in Harry's
+      eyes? What had he not missed?
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harry, may I make a suggestion?&rdquo; he asked almost apologetically. The
+      young fellow turned his head in respectful attention: &ldquo;Put St. George in
+      my carriage&mdash;it is much more comfortable&mdash;and let me drive him
+      home&mdash;my eyes are quite good in the daytime, after I get used to the
+      light, and I am still able to take the road. Then put your servant and
+      mine in the hack with St. George's and your own luggage.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Capital idea!&rdquo; cried Harry enthusiastically &ldquo;I never thought of it!
+      Attention company! Eyes to the front, Mr. Temple! You'll now remain on
+      waiting orders until I give you permission to move, and as this may take
+      some time&mdash;please hold on to him, father, until I get his chair&rdquo;
+       (they were already out on the landing&mdash;on the very plank where Harry
+      had passed the night) &ldquo;you'll go back to your quarters... Here sir, these
+      are your quarters,&rdquo; and Harry dragged the chair into position with his
+      foot. &ldquo;Down with you... that's it... and you will stay here until the
+      baggage and hospital train arrives, when you'll occupy a front seat in the
+      van&mdash;and there will be no grumbling or lagging behind of any kind,
+      remember, or you'll get ten days in the calaboose!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson was on the curbstone, his face shining, his semaphore arms and legs
+      in action, his eyes searching the distance, when the two vehicles came in
+      sight. He had heard the day boat was very late, and as there had been a
+      heavy fog over night, did not worry about the delay in their arrival.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      What troubled him more was the change in Mr. Temple's appearance. He had
+      gone away ruddy, erect, full of vigor and health, and here he was being
+      helped out of the carriage, pale, shriveled, his eyes deep set in his
+      head. His voice, though, was still strong if his legs were shaky, and
+      there seemed also to be no diminution in the flow of his spirits. Wesley
+      had kept that part of him intact whatever changes the climate had made.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Ah, Pawson&mdash;glad to see you!&rdquo; the invalid called gaily extending his
+      hand as soon as he stood erect on the sidewalk. &ldquo;Back again, you see&mdash;these
+      old derelicts bob up once in a while when you least expect them.&rdquo; And he
+      wrung his hand heartily. &ldquo;So the vultures, it seems, have not turned up
+      yet and made their roost in my nest. Most kind of you to stay home and
+      give up your business to meet me! You know Colonel Talbot Rutter, of
+      Moorlands, I presume, and Mr. Harry Rutter&mdash;Of course you do! Harry
+      has told me all about your midnight meeting when you took him for a
+      constable, and he took you for a thief. No&mdash;please don't laugh,
+      Pawson&mdash;Mr. Rutter is the worst kind of a thief. Not only has he
+      stolen my heart because of his goodness to me, but he threatens to make
+      off with my body. Give me your hand, Todd. Now a little lift on that
+      rickety elbow and I reckon we can make that flight of steps. I have come
+      down them so many times of late with no expectation of ever mounting them
+      again that it will be a novelty to be sure of staying over night. Come in,
+      Talbot, and see the home of my ancestors. I am sorry the Black Warrior is
+      all gone&mdash;I sent Kennedy the last bottle some time ago&mdash;pity
+      that vintage didn't last forever. Do you know, Talbot, if I had my way,
+      I'd have a special spigot put in the City Spring labelled 'Gift of a once
+      prominent citizen,' and supply the inhabitants with 1810&mdash;something
+      fit for a gentleman to drink.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      They were all laughing now; the colonel carrying the pillows Todd had
+      tucked behind the invalid's back, Harry a few toilet articles wrapped in
+      paper, and Matthew his cane&mdash;and so the cortege crawled up the steps,
+      crossed the dismantled dining-room&mdash;the colonel aghast at the change
+      made in its interior since last he saw it&mdash;and so on to St. George's
+      room where Todd and Jemima put him to bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His uncle taken care of&mdash;(his father had kept on to Moorlands to tell
+      his mother the good news)&mdash;Harry mounted the stairs to his old room,
+      which Pawson had generously vacated.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The appointments were about the same as when he left; time and poverty had
+      wrought but few changes. Pawson, had moved in a few books and there was a
+      night table beside the small bed with a lamp on it, showing that he read
+      late; but the bureau and shabby arm-chair, and the closet, stripped now of
+      the young attorney's clothes to make room for the wanderer's&mdash;(a
+      scant, sorry lot)&mdash;were pretty much the same as Harry had found on
+      that eventful night when he had driven in through the rain and storm
+      beside his Uncle George, his father's anathemas ringing in his ears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Unconsciously his mind went back to the events of the day;&mdash;more
+      especially to his uncle's wonderful vitality and the blissful change his
+      own home-coming had wrought not only in his physique, but in his spirits.
+      Then his father's shattered form, haggard face, and uncertain glance rose
+      before him, and with it came the recollection of all that had happened
+      during the previous hours: his father's brutal outburst in the small
+      office and the marvellous effect produced upon him when he learned the
+      truth from Alec's lips; his hurried departure in the gray dawn for the
+      ship and his tracing him to Jemima's house. More amazing still was his
+      present bearing toward himself and St. George; his deference to their
+      wishes and his willingness to follow and not lead. Was it his ill-health
+      that had brought about this astounding reformation in a man who brooked no
+      opposition?&mdash;or had his heart really softened toward him so that from
+      this on he could again call him father in the full meaning of the term? At
+      this a sudden, acute pain wrenched his heart. Perhaps he had not been glad
+      enough to see him&mdash;perhaps in his anxiety over his uncle he had
+      failed in those little tendernesses which a returned prodigal should have
+      shown the father who had held out his arms and asked his forgiveness. Why
+      was he not more affected by the sight of his suffering. When he first saw
+      his uncle he had not been able to keep the tears back&mdash;and yet his
+      eyes were dry enough when he saw his father. At this he fell to wondering
+      as to the present condition of the colonel's mind. What was he thinking of
+      in that lonely drive. He must be nearing Moorlands by this time and Alec
+      would meet him, and later the dear mother&mdash;and the whole story would
+      be told. He could see her glad face&mdash;her eyes streaming tears, her
+      heart throbbing with the joy of his return.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And it is a great pity he could not have thus looked in upon the autocrat
+      of Moorlands as he sat hunched up on the back seat of the carryall, his
+      head bowed, the only spoken words being Matthew's cheery hastening of his
+      horses. And it is even a greater pity that the son could not have searched
+      as well the secret places of the man's heart: such clearings out of doubts
+      and misgivings make for peace and good fellowship and righteousness in
+      this world of misunderstanding.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      That a certain rest had come into Rutter's soul could be seen in his face&mdash;a
+      peace that had not settled on his features for years&mdash;but, if the
+      truth must be told, he was far from happy. Somehow the joy he had
+      anticipated at the boy's home-coming had not been realized. With the
+      warmth of Harry's grasp still lingering in his own and the tones of his
+      voice still sounding in his ears, try as he might, he yet felt aloof from
+      him&mdash;outside&mdash;far off. Something had snapped in the years they
+      had been apart&mdash;something he knew could never be repaired. Where
+      there had once been boyish love there was now only filial regard. Down in
+      his secret soul he felt it&mdash;down in his secret soul he knew it! Worse
+      than that&mdash;another had replaced him! &ldquo;Come, you dear old cripple!&rdquo;&mdash;he
+      could hear the voice and see the love and joy in the boy's eyes as he
+      shouted it out. Yes, St. George was his father now!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then his mind reverted to his former treatment of his son and for the
+      hundredth time he reviewed his side of the case. What else could he have
+      done and still maintain the standards of his ancestors?&mdash;the
+      universal question around Kennedy Square, when obligations of blood and
+      training were to be considered. After all it had only been an object
+      lesson; he had fully intended to forgive him later on. When Harry was a
+      boy he punished him as boys were punished; when he became a man he
+      punished him as men were punished. But for St. George the plan would long
+      since have worked. St. George had balked him twice&mdash;once at the club
+      and once at his home in Kennedy Square, when he practically ordered him
+      from the house.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And yet he could not but admit&mdash;and at this he sat bolt upright in
+      his seat&mdash;that even according to his own high standards both St.
+      George and Harry had measured up to them! Rather than touch another penny
+      of his uncle's money Harry had become an exile; rather than accept a penny
+      from his enemy, St. George had become a pauper. With this view of the case
+      fermenting in his mind&mdash;and he had not realized the extent of both
+      sacrifices until that moment&mdash;a feeling of pride swept through him.
+      It was HIS BOY and HIS FRIEND, who had measured up!&mdash;by suffering, by
+      bodily weakness&mdash;by privation&mdash;by starvation! And both had
+      manfully and cheerfully stood the test! It was the blood of the DeRuyters
+      which had put courage into the boy; it was the blood of the cavaliers that
+      had made Temple the man he was. And that old DeRuyter blood! How it had
+      told in every glance of his son's eyes and every intonation of his voice!
+      If he had not accumulated a fortune he would&mdash;and that before many
+      years were gone. But!&mdash;and here a chill went through him. Would not
+      this still further separate them, and if it did how could he restore in
+      the shortest possible time the old dependence and the old confidence? His
+      efforts so far had met with almost a rebuff, for Harry had shown no
+      particular pleasure when he told him of his intention to put him in charge
+      of the estate: he had watched his face closely for a sign of satisfaction,
+      but none had come. He had really seemed more interested in getting St.
+      George downstairs than in being the fourth heir of Moorlands&mdash;indeed,
+      it was very evident that he had no thought for anybody or anything except
+      St. George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All this the son might have known could he have sat by his father in the
+      carryall on this way to Moorlands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXIX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      The sudden halting of two vehicles close to the horse-block of the Temple
+      Mansion&mdash;one an aristocratic carryall driven by a man in livery, and
+      the other a dilapidated city hack in charge of a negro in patched overcoat
+      and whitey-brown hat, the discharge of their inmates, one of whom was
+      Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands carrying two pillows, and another a
+      strange young man loaded down with blankets&mdash;the slow disembarking of
+      a gentleman in so wretched a state of health that he was practically
+      carried up the front steps by his body-servant, and the subsequent arrival
+      of Dr. Teackle on the double quick&mdash;was a sight so unusual in and
+      around peaceful Kennedy Square that it is not surprising that all sorts of
+      reports&mdash;most of them alarming&mdash;reached the club long before St.
+      George had been comfortably tucked away in bed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Various versions were afloat: &ldquo;St. George was back from Wesley with a
+      touch of chills and fever&mdash;&rdquo; &ldquo;St. George was back from Wesley with a
+      load of buckshot in his right arm&mdash;&rdquo; &ldquo;St. George had broken his
+      collar-bone riding to hounds&mdash;&rdquo; etc.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Richard Horn was the first to spring to his feet&mdash;it was the
+      afternoon hour and the club was full&mdash;and cross the Square on the
+      run, followed by Clayton, Bowman, and two or three others. These, with one
+      accord, banged away on the knocker, only to be met by Dr. Teackle, who
+      explained that there was nothing seriously the matter with Mr. Temple,
+      except an attack of foolhardiness in coming up the bay when he should have
+      stayed in bed&mdash;but even that should cause his friends no uneasiness,
+      as he was still as tough as a lightwood knot, and bubbling over with good
+      humor; all he needed was rest, and that he must have&mdash;so please
+      everybody come to-morrow.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      By the next morning the widening of ripples caused by the dropping of a
+      high-grade invalid into the still pool of Kennedy Square, spread with such
+      force and persistency that one wavelet overflowed Kate's dressing-room.
+      Indeed, it came in with Mammy Henny and her coffee.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marse George home, honey&mdash;Ben done see Todd. Got a mis'ry in his
+      back dat bad it tuk two gemmens to tote him up de steps.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle George home, and ill!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      That was enough for Kate. She didn't want any coffee&mdash;she didn't want
+      any toast or muffins, or hominy&mdash;she wanted her shoes and stockings
+      and&mdash;Yes everything, and quick!&mdash;and would Mammy Henny call Ben
+      and send him right away to Mr. Temple's and find out how her dear Uncle
+      George had passed the night, and give him her dearest love and tell him
+      she would come right over to see him the moment she could get into her
+      clothes; and could she send anything for him to eat; and did the doctor
+      think it was dangerous&mdash;? Yes&mdash;and Ben must keep on to Dr.
+      Teackle's and find out if it was dangerous&mdash;and say to him that Miss
+      Seymour wanted to know IMMEDIATELY, and&mdash;(Here the poor child lost
+      her breath, she was dressing all the time, Mammy Henny's fingers and ears
+      doing their best) &ldquo;and tell Mr. Temple, too,&rdquo; she rushed on, &ldquo;that he must
+      send word by Ben for ANYTHING and EVERYTHING he needed&rdquo; (strong accent on
+      the two words)... all of which was repeated through the crack of the door
+      to patient Ben when he presented himself, with the additional assurance
+      that he must tell Mr. Temple it wouldn't be five minutes before she would
+      be with him&mdash;as she was nearly dressed, all but her hair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She was right about her good intentions, but she was wrong about the
+      number of minutes necessary to carry them out. There was her morning gown
+      to button, and her gaiters to lace, and her hair to be braided and caught
+      up in her neck (she always wore it that way in the morning) and the
+      dearest of snug bonnets&mdash;a &ldquo;cabriolet&rdquo; from Paris&mdash;a sort of
+      hood, stiffened with wires, out of which peeped pink rosebuds quite as
+      they do from a trellis&mdash;had to be put on, and the white strings tied
+      &ldquo;just so&rdquo;&mdash;the bows flaring out and the long ends smoothed flat; and
+      then the lace cape and scarf and her parasol;&mdash;all these and a dozen
+      other little niceties had to be adjusted before she could trip down her
+      father's stairs and out of her father's swinging gate and on through the
+      park to her dear Uncle George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But when she did&mdash;and it took her all of an hour&mdash;nothing that
+      the morning sun shone on was quite as lovely, and no waft of air so
+      refreshing or so welcome as our beloved heroine when she burst in upon
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&mdash;you dear, DEAR thing!&rdquo; she cried, tossing her parasol on
+      Pawson's table and stretching out her arms toward him sitting in his
+      chair. &ldquo;Oh, I am so sorry! Why didn't you let me know you were ill? I
+      would have gone down to Wesley. Oh!&mdash;I KNEW something was the matter
+      with you or you would have answered my letters.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had struggled to his feet at the first sound of her footsteps in the
+      hall, and had her in his arms long before she had finished her greeting;&mdash;indeed
+      her last sentence was addressed to the collar of his coat against which
+      her cheek was cushioned.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Who said I was ill?&rdquo; he asked with one of his bubbling laughs when he got
+      his breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd told Ben&mdash;and you ARE!&mdash;and it breaks my heart.&rdquo; She was
+      holding herself off now, scanning his pale face and shrunken frame&mdash;&ldquo;Oh,
+      I am so sorry you did not let me know!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd is a chatterer, and Ben no better; I've only had a bad cold&mdash;and
+      you couldn't have done me a bit of good if you had come&mdash;and now I am
+      entirely well, never felt better in my life. Oh&mdash;but it's good to get
+      hold of you, Kate,&mdash;and you are still the same bunch of roses. Sit
+      down now and tell me all about it. I wish I had a better chair for you, my
+      dear, but the place is quite dismantled, as you see. I expected to stay
+      the winter when I left.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She had not given a thought to the chair or to the changes&mdash;had not
+      even noticed them. That the room was stripped of its furniture prior to a
+      long stay was what invariably occurred in her own house every summer: it
+      was her precious uncle's pale, shrunken face and the blue veins that
+      showed in the backs of his dear transparent hands which she held between
+      her own, and the thin, emaciated wrists that absorbed her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You poor, dear Uncle George!&rdquo; she purred&mdash;&ldquo;and nobody to look after
+      you.&rdquo; He had drawn up Pawson's chair and had placed her in it beside the
+      one he sat in, and had then dropped slowly into his own, the better to
+      hide from her his weakness&mdash;but it did not deceive her. &ldquo;I'm going to
+      have you put back to bed this very minute; you are not strong enough to
+      sit up. Let me call Aunt Jemima.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George shook his head good-naturedly in denial and smoothed her hands
+      with his fingers.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Call nobody and do nothing but sit beside me and let me look into your
+      face and listen to your voice. I have been pretty badly shaken up; had two
+      weeks of it that couldn't have been much worse&mdash;but since then I have
+      been on the mend and am getting stronger every minute. I haven't had any
+      medicine and I don't want any now&mdash;I just want you and&mdash;&rdquo; he
+      hesitated, and seeing nothing in her eyes of any future hope for Harry,
+      finished the sentence, with &ldquo;and one or two others to sit by me and cheer
+      me up; that's better than all the doctors in the world. And now, first
+      about your father and then about yourself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, he's very well,&rdquo; she rejoined absently. &ldquo;He's off somewhere, went
+      away two days ago. He'll be back in a week. But you must have something to
+      eat&mdash;GOOD things!&rdquo;&mdash;her mind still occupied with his condition.
+      &ldquo;I'm going to have some chicken broth made the moment I get home and it
+      will be sent fresh every day: and you must eat every bit of it!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again St. George's laugh rang out. He had let her run on&mdash;it was
+      music to his ears&mdash;that he might later on find some clue on which he
+      could frame a question he had been revolving in his mind ever since he
+      heard her voice in the hall. He would not tell her about Harry&mdash;better
+      wait until he could read her thoughts the clearer. If he could discover by
+      some roundabout way that she would still refuse to see him it would be
+      best not to embarrass her with any such request; especially on this her
+      first visit.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;I'll eat anything and everything you send me, you dear Kate&mdash;and
+      many thanks to you, provided you'll come with it&mdash;you are the best
+      broth for me. But you haven't answered my question&mdash;not all of it.
+      What have YOU been doing since I left?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wondering whether you would forgive me for the rude way in which I left
+      you the last time I saw you,&mdash;the night of Mr. Horn's reading, for
+      one thing. I went off with Mr. Willits and never said a word to you. I
+      wrote you a letter telling you how sorry I was, but you never answered it,
+      and that made me more anxious than ever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What foolishness, Kate! I never got it, of course, or you would have
+      heard from me right away. A number of my letters have gone astray of late.
+      But I don't remember a thing about it, except that you walked off with
+      your&mdash;&rdquo; again he hesitated&mdash;&ldquo;with Mr. Willits, which, of course,
+      was the most natural thing for you to do in the world. How is he, by the
+      way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate drew back her shoulders with that quick movement common to her when
+      some antagonism in her mind preceded her spoken word.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know&mdash;I haven't seen him for some weeks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George started in his chair: &ldquo;You haven't! He isn't ill, is he?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I think not,&rdquo; she rejoined calmly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, then he has gone down to his father's. Yes, I remember he goes quite
+      often,&rdquo; he ventured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I think he is still here.&rdquo; Her gaze was on the window as she spoke,
+      through which could be seen the tops of the trees glistening in the
+      sunlight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you haven't seen him? Why?&rdquo; asked St. George wonderingly&mdash;he was
+      not sure he had heard her aright.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I told him not to come,&rdquo; she replied in a positive tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George settled back in his chair. Had there been a clock in the room
+      its faintest tick would have rung out like a trip-hammer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you have had a quarrel: he has broken his promise to you and got
+      drunk again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he has never broken it; he has kept it as faithfully as Harry kept
+      his.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't mean, Kate, that you have broken off your engagement?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She reached over and picked up her parasol: &ldquo;There never was any
+      engagement. I have always felt sorry for Mr. Willits and tried my best to
+      love him and couldn't&mdash;that is all. He understands it perfectly; we
+      both do. It was one of the things that couldn't be.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      All sorts of possibilities surged one after the other through the old
+      diplomat's mind. A dim light increasing in intensity began to shine about
+      him. What it meant he dared not hope. &ldquo;What does your father say?&rdquo; he
+      asked slowly, after a pause in which he had followed every expression that
+      crossed her face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Nothing&mdash;and it wouldn't alter the case if he did. I am the best
+      judge of what is good for me.&rdquo; There was a certain finality in her
+      cadences that repelled all further discussion. He remembered having heard
+      the same ring before.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;When did all this happen?&mdash;this telling him not to come?&rdquo; he
+      persisted, determined to widen the inquiry. His mind was still unable to
+      fully grasp the situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;About five weeks ago. Do you want to know the very night?&rdquo; She turned her
+      head as she spoke and looked at him with her full, deep eyes.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, if you wish me to.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;The night Mr. Horn read 'The Cricket on the Hearth,'&rdquo; she answered in a
+      tone of relief&mdash;as if some great crisis had marked the hour, the
+      passing of which had brought her infinite peace. &ldquo;I told him when I got
+      home, and I have never seen him since.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      For some seconds St. George did not move. He had turned from her and sat
+      with his head resting on his hand, his eyes intent on the smouldering
+      fire: he dare not trust himself to speak; wide ranges opened before him;
+      the light had strengthened until it was blinding. Kate sat motionless, her
+      hands in her lap, her eyes searching St. George's face for some indication
+      of the effect of her news. Then finding him still silent and absorbed in
+      his thoughts, she went on:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;There was nothing else to do, Uncle George. I had done all I could to
+      please my father and one or two of my friends. There was nothing against
+      him&mdash;he was very kind and very considerate&mdash;but somehow I&mdash;&rdquo;
+       She paused and drew a long breath.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Somehow what?&rdquo; demanded St. George raising his head quickly and studying
+      her the closer. The situation was becoming vital now&mdash;too vital for
+      any further delay.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I don't know&mdash;I couldn't love him&mdash;that's all. He has many
+      excellent qualities&mdash;too many maybe,&rdquo; and she smiled faintly. &ldquo;You
+      know I never liked people who were too good&mdash;that is, too willing to
+      do everything you wanted them to do&mdash;especially men who ought really
+      to be masters and&mdash;&rdquo; She stopped and played with the top of her
+      parasol, smoothing the knob with her palm as if the better to straighten
+      out the tangle in her mind. &ldquo;I expect you will think me queer, Uncle
+      George, but I have come to the conclusion that I will never love anybody
+      again&mdash;I am through with all that. It's very hard, you know, to mend
+      a thing when it's broken. I used to say to myself that when I grew to be a
+      woman I supposed I would love as any other woman seemed content to love;
+      that no romance of a young girl was ever realized and that they could only
+      be found in love stories. But my theories all went to pieces when I heard
+      Mr. Horn that night. Dot's love for John the Carrier&mdash;I have read it
+      so often since that I know the whole story by heart&mdash;Dot's love for
+      John was the real thing, but May Fielding's love for Tackleton wasn't. And
+      it seemed so wonderful when her lover came home and&mdash;it's foolish, I
+      know&mdash;very silly&mdash;that I should have been so moved by just the
+      reading of a story&mdash;but it's true. It takes only a very little to
+      push you over when you are on the edge, and I had been on the edge for a
+      long time. But don't let us talk about it, dear Uncle George,&rdquo; she added
+      with a forced smile. &ldquo;I'm going to take care of you now and be a charming
+      old maid with side curls and spectacles and make flannel things for the
+      poor&mdash;you just wait and see what a comfort I will be.&rdquo; Her lips were
+      trembling, the tears crowding over the edges of her lids.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George stretched out his hand and in his kindest voice said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Was it the carrier and his wife, or was it the sailor boy who came back
+      so fine and strong, that affected you, Kate?&mdash;and made you give up
+      Mr. Willits?&rdquo; He would go to the bottom now.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was everything, Uncle George&mdash;the sweetness of it all&mdash;her
+      pride in her husband&mdash;his doubts of her&mdash;her repentance; and yet
+      she did what she thought was for the best; and then his forgiveness and
+      the way he wanted to take her in his arms at last and she would not until
+      she explained. And there was nothing really to explain&mdash;only love,
+      and trust, and truth&mdash;all the time believing in him&mdash;loving him.
+      Oh, it is cruel to part people&mdash;it's so mean and despicable! There
+      are so many Tackletons&mdash;and the May Fieldings go to the altar and so
+      on to their graves&mdash;and there is often such a very little difference
+      between the two. I never gave my promise to Mr. Willits. I would not!&mdash;I
+      could not! He kept hoping and waiting. He was very gentle and patient&mdash;he
+      never coaxed nor pleaded, but just&mdash;Oh, Uncle George!&mdash;let me
+      talk it all out&mdash;I have nobody else. I missed you so, and there was
+      no one who could understand, and you wouldn't answer my letters.&rdquo; She was
+      crying softly to herself, her beautiful head resting on her elbow pillowed
+      on the back of his chair.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He leaned forward the closer: he loved this girl next best to Harry. Her
+      sorrows were his own. Was it all coming out as he had hoped and prayed
+      for? He could hardly restrain himself in his eagerness.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you miss anybody else, Kate?&rdquo; There was a peculiar tenderness in his
+      voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She did not raise her head nor did she answer. St. George waited and
+      repeated the question, Slipping his hand over hers, as he spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It was the loneliness, Uncle George,&rdquo; she replied, evading his inference.
+      &ldquo;I tried to forget it all, and I threw open our house and gave parties and
+      dances&mdash;hardly a week but there has been something going on&mdash;but
+      nothing did any good. I have been&mdash;yes&mdash;wretchedly unhappy and&mdash;No,
+      it will only distress you to hear it&mdash;don't let's talk any more about
+      it. I won't let you go away again. I'll go away with you if you don't get
+      better soon, anywhere you say. We'll go down to the White Sulphur&mdash;Yes&mdash;we'll
+      go there. The air is so bracing&mdash;it wouldn't be a week before all the
+      color would come back to your cheeks and you be as strong as ever.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He was not listening. His mind was framing a question&mdash;one he must
+      ask without committing himself or her. He was running a parallel, really&mdash;reading
+      her heart by a flank movement.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kate, dear?&rdquo; He had regained his position although he still kept hold of
+      her hand.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Uncle George.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you write to Harry, as I asked you?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, it wouldn't have done any good. I have had troubles enough of my own
+      without adding any to his.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Were you afraid he would not answer it?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She lifted her head and tightened her fingers about his own, her wet eyes
+      looking into his.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I was afraid of myself. I have never known my own mind and I don't know
+      it now. I have played fast and loose with everybody&mdash;I can't bind up
+      a broken arm and then break it again.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Wouldn't it be better to try?&rdquo; he said softly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, I don't think so.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George released her hand and settled back in his chair; his face grew
+      grave. What manner of woman was this, and how could he reach the inner
+      kernel of her heart? Again he raised his head and leaning forward took
+      both her hands between his own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am going to tell you a story, Kate&mdash;one you have never heard&mdash;not
+      all of it. When I was about your age&mdash;a little older perhaps, I gave
+      my heart to a woman who had known me from a boy; with whom I had played
+      when she was a child. I'm not going into the whole story, such things are
+      always sad; nor will I tell you anything of the beginning of the three
+      happy months of our betrothal nor of what caused our separation. I shall
+      only tell you of the cruelty of the end. There was a misunderstanding&mdash;a
+      quarrel&mdash;I begging her forgiveness on my knees. All the time her
+      heart was breaking. One little word from her would have healed everything.
+      Some years after that she married and her life still goes on. I am what
+      you see.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate looked at him with swimming eyes. She dimly remembered that she had
+      heard that her uncle had had a love affair in his youth and that his
+      sweetheart had jilted him for a richer man, but she had never known that
+      he had suffered so bitterly over it. Her heart went out to him all the
+      more.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Will you tell me who it was?&rdquo; She had no right to ask; but she might
+      comfort him the better if she knew.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Harry's mother.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate dropped his hands and drew back in her seat.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You&mdash;loved&mdash;Mrs.&mdash;Rutter&mdash;and she&mdash;refused you
+      for&mdash;Oh!&mdash;what a cruel thing to do! And what a fool she was. Now
+      I know why you have been so good to Harry. Oh, you poor, dear Uncle
+      George. Oh, to think that you of all men! Is there any one whose heart is
+      not bruised and broken?&rdquo; she added in a helpless tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Plenty of them, Kate&mdash;especially those who have been willing to
+      stoop a little and so triumph. Harry has waited three years for some word
+      from you; he has not asked for it, for he believes you have forgotten him;
+      and then he was too much of a man to encroach upon another's rights. Does
+      your breaking off with Mr. Willits alter the case in any way?&mdash;does
+      it make any difference? Is this sailor boy always to be a wanderer&mdash;never
+      to come home to his people and the woman he loves?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He'll never come back to me, Uncle George,&rdquo; she said with a shudder,
+      dropping her eyes. &ldquo;I found that out the day we talked together in the
+      park, just before he left. And he's not coming home. Father got a letter
+      from one of his agents who had seen him. He was looking very well and was
+      going up into the mountains&mdash;I wrote you about it. I am sorry you
+      didn't get the letter&mdash;but of course he has written you too.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Suppose I should tell you that he would come back if he thought you would
+      be glad to see him&mdash;glad in the old way?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate shook her head: &ldquo;He would never come. He hates me, and I don't blame
+      him. I hate myself when I think of it all.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But if he should walk in now?&rdquo;&mdash;he was very much afraid he would,
+      and he was not quite ready for him yet. What he was trying to find out was
+      not whether Kate would be glad to see Harry as a relief to her loneliness,
+      but whether she really LOVED him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Some tone in his voice caught her ear. She turned her head quickly and
+      looked at him with wondering gaze, as if she would read his inmost
+      thoughts.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mean that he is coming, Uncle George&mdash;that Harry IS coming
+      home!&rdquo; she exclaimed excitedly, the color ebbing from her cheeks.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He is already here, Kate. He slept upstairs in his old room last night. I
+      expect him in any minute.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Here!&mdash;in this room!&rdquo; She was on her feet in an instant, her face
+      deathly pale, her whole frame shaking. Which way should she turn to
+      escape? To meet him face to face would bring only excruciating pain. &ldquo;Oh,
+      why didn't you tell me, Uncle George!&rdquo; she burst out. &ldquo;I won't see him! I
+      can't!&mdash;not now&mdash;not here! Let me go home&mdash;let me think! No&mdash;don't
+      stop me!&rdquo; and catching up her cape and parasol she was out the door and
+      down the steps before he could call her back or even realize that she had
+      gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Once on the pavement she looked nervously up and down the street, gathered
+      her pretty skirts tight in her hand and with the fluttered flight of a
+      scared bird darted across the park, dashed through her swinging gate, and
+      so on up to her bedroom.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      There she buried her face in Mammy Henny's lap and burst into an agony of
+      tears.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      While all this had been going on upstairs another equally important
+      conference was taking place in Pawson's office below, where Harry at
+      Pawson's request had gone to meet Gadgem and talk over certain plans for
+      his uncle's future welfare. He had missed Kate by one of those trifling
+      accidents which often determine the destiny of nations and of men. Had he,
+      after attending to the business of the morning&mdash;(he had been down to
+      Marsh Market with Todd for supplies)&mdash;mounted the steps to see his
+      uncle instead of yielding to a sudden impulse to interview Pawson first
+      and his uncle afterward, he would have come upon Kate at the very moment
+      she was pouring out her heart to St. George.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      But no such fatality or stroke of good fortune&mdash;whatever the gods had
+      in store for him&mdash;took place. On the contrary he proceeded calmly to
+      carry out the details of a matter of the utmost importance to all
+      concerned&mdash;one in which both Pawson and Gadgem were interested&mdash;(indeed
+      he had come at Pawson's suggestion to discuss its details with the
+      collector and himself):&mdash;all of which the Scribe promises in all
+      honor to reveal to his readers before the whole of this story is told.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry walked straight up to Gadgem:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am very glad to see you, Mr. Gadgem,&rdquo; he said in his manly, friendly
+      way. &ldquo;You have been very good to my uncle, and I want to thank you both
+      for him and for myself,&rdquo; and he shook the little man's hand heartily.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Gadgem blushed. St. George's democracy he could understand; but why this
+      aristocrat&mdash;outcast as he had once been, but now again in favor&mdash;why
+      this young prince, the heir to Moorlands and the first young blood of his
+      time, should treat him as an equal, puzzled him; and yet, somehow, his
+      heart warmed to him as he read his sincerity in his eyes and voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Thank you, sir&mdash;thank you very much, sir,&rdquo; rejoined Gadgem, with a
+      folding-camp-stool-movement, his back bent at right angles with his legs.
+      &ldquo;I really don't deserve it, sir. Mr. Temple is an EXtraordinary man, sir;
+      the most EXtraordinary man I have ever met, sir. Give you the shirt off
+      his back, sir, and go NAked himself.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, he gave it to me,&rdquo; laughed Harry, greatly amused at the collector's
+      effusive manner: He had never seen this side of Gadgem. &ldquo;That, of course,
+      you know all about&mdash;you paid the bills, I believe.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;PREcisely so, sir.&rdquo; He had lengthened out now with a spiral-spring,
+      cork-screw twist in his body, his index finger serving as point. &ldquo;Paid
+      every one of them. He never cared, sir&mdash;he GLOried in it&mdash;GLOried
+      in being a pauper. UNaccountable, Mr. Rutter&mdash;Enormously
+      unaccountable. Never heard of such a case; never WILL hear of such a case.
+      So what was to be done, sir? Just what I may state is being done this
+      minute over our heads UPstairs&rdquo;: and out went the index finger. &ldquo;Rest and
+      REcuperation, sir&mdash;a slow&mdash;a very slow use of AVAILable assets
+      until new and FURther AVAILable assets could become visible. And they are
+      here, sir&mdash;have arRIVED. You may have heard, of course, of the
+      Patapsco where Mr. Temple kept the largest part of his fortune.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, except that it about ruined everybody who had anything to do with
+      it.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Then you have heard nothing of the REsuscitation!&rdquo; cried Gadgem, all his
+      fingers opened like a fan, his eyebrows arched to the roots of his hair.
+      &ldquo;You surPRISE me! And you are really ignorant of the PHOEnix-like way in
+      which it has RISen from its ashes? I said RISen, sir, because it is now
+      but a dim speck in the financial sky. Nor the appointment of Mr. John
+      Gorsuch as manager, ably backed by your DIStinguished father&mdash;the
+      setting of the bird upon its legs&mdash;I'm speaking of the burnt bird,
+      sir, the PHOEnix. I'm quite sure it was a bird&mdash;Nor the payment on
+      the first of the ensuing month of some eighty per cent of the amounts due
+      the ORIGinal depositors and another twenty per cent in one year thereafter&mdash;The
+      cancelling of the mortgage which your most BEnevolent and HONorable father
+      bought, and the sly trick of Gorsuch&mdash;letting Fogbin, who never
+      turned up, become the sham tenant&mdash;and the joy&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Hold on Mr. Gadgem&mdash;I'm not good at figures. Give me that over again
+      and speak slower. Am I to understand that the bank will pay back to my
+      uncle, within a day or so, three-quarters of the money they stole from
+      him?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;STOLE, sir!&rdquo; chided Gadgem, his outstretched forefinger wig-wagging a
+      Fie! Fie! gesture of disapproval&mdash;&ldquo;STOLE is not a pretty word&mdash;actionable,
+      sir&mdash;DANgerously actionable&mdash;a question of the watch-house, and,
+      if I might be permitted to say&mdash;a bit of COLD lead&mdash;Perhaps you
+      will allow me to suggest the word 'maNIPulated,' sir&mdash;the money the
+      bank maNIPulated from your confiding and inexperienced uncle&mdash;that is
+      safer and it is equally EXpressive. He! He!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, will he get the money?&rdquo; cried Harry, his face lighting up, his
+      interest in the outcome outweighing his amusement over Gadgem's antics and
+      expressions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;He WILL, sir,&rdquo; rejoined Gadgem decisively.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And you are so sure of it that you would be willing to advance one-half
+      the amount if the account was turned over to you this minute?&rdquo; cried Harry
+      eagerly.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No sir&mdash;not one-half&mdash;ALL of it&mdash;less a TRIfling
+      commission for my services of say one per cent. When you say 'this
+      minute,' sir, I must reply that the brevity of the area of action becomes
+      a trifle ACUTE, yes, ALARMingly acute. I haven't the money myself, sir&mdash;that
+      is, not about my person&mdash;but I can get it in an hour, sir&mdash;in
+      less time, if Mr. Temple is willing. That was my purpose in coming here,
+      sir&mdash;that was why Mr. Pawson sent for me, sir; and it is but fair to
+      say that you can thank your DIStinguished father for it all, sir&mdash;he
+      has worked night and day to do it. Colonel Rutter has taken over&mdash;so
+      I am inFORMED&mdash;I'm not sure, but I am inFORMED&mdash;taken over a lot
+      of the securities himself so that he COULD do it. Another EXtraordinary
+      combination, if you will permit me to say so&mdash;I refer to your father&mdash;a
+      man who will show you his door one minute and open his pocketbook and his
+      best bottle of wine for you the next,&rdquo; and he plunged himself down in his
+      seat with so determined a gesture that it left no question on Harry's mind
+      that he intended sitting it out until daylight should there be the
+      faintest possibility of his financial proposition being accepted.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry walked to the window and gazed out on the trees. There was no doubt
+      now that Mr. Temple was once more on his feet. &ldquo;Uncle George will go now
+      to Moorlands,&rdquo; he said, decisively, in a low tone, speaking to himself,
+      his heart swelling with pride at this fresh evidence of his father's high
+      sense of honor&mdash;then he wheeled and addressed the attorney:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Shall I tell Mr. Temple this news, about the Patapsco Bank, Mr. Pawson?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, if you think best, Mr. Rutter. And I have another piece of good
+      news. This please do not tell Mr. Temple, not yet&mdash;not until it is
+      definitely settled. That old suit in Chancery has been decided, or will
+      be, so I learned this morning and decided in favor of the heir. You may
+      not have heard of it before, Gadgem,&rdquo; and he turned to the collector, &ldquo;but
+      it is one of old General Dorsey Temple's left-overs. It has been in the
+      courts now some forty years. When this decision is made binding,&rdquo; here he
+      again faced Harry&mdash;&ldquo;Mr. Temple comes in for a considerable share.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Gadgem jumped to his feet and snapped his fingers rapidly. Had he sat on a
+      tack his rebound could not have been more sudden. This last was news to
+      him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;SHORN lamb, sir!&rdquo; he cried gleefully, rubbing his palms together, his
+      body tied into a double bow-knot. &ldquo;Gentle breezes; bread upon the waters!
+      By jiminy, Mr. Rutter, if Mr. Temple could be born again&mdash;figuratively,
+      sir&mdash;and I could walk in upon him as I once did, and find him at
+      breakfast surrounded by all his comforts with Todd waiting upon him&mdash;a
+      very good nigger is Todd, sir&mdash;an exCEPtionally good nigger&mdash;I'd&mdash;I'd&mdash;damn
+      me, Mr. Rutter, I'd&mdash;well, sir, there's no word&mdash;but John
+      Gadgem, sir&mdash;well, I'll be damned if he wouldn't&mdash;&rdquo; and he began
+      skipping about the room, both feet in the air, as if he was a boy of
+      twenty instead of a thin, shambling, badly put together bill collector in
+      an ill-fitting brown coat, a hat much the worse for wear, and a red cotton
+      handkerchief addicted to weekly ablutions.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As for Harry the glad news had cleared out wide spaces before him, such as
+      he had not looked through in years; leafy vistas, with glimpses of sunlit
+      meadows; shadow-flecked paths leading to manor-houses with summer skies
+      beyond. He, too, was on his feet, walking restlessly up and down.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Pawson and Gadgem again put their heads together, Harry stopping to
+      listen. Such expressions as &ldquo;Certainly,&rdquo; &ldquo;I think I can&rdquo;: &ldquo;Yes, of course
+      it was there when I was last in his place,&rdquo; &ldquo;Better see him first,&rdquo; caught
+      his ear.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      At last he could stand it no longer. Dr. Teackle or no Dr. Teackle, he
+      would go upstairs, open the door softly, and if his uncle was awake
+      whisper the good news in his ear. If anybody had whispered any such
+      similar good news in his ear on any one of the weary nights he had lain
+      awake waiting for the dawn, or at any time of the day when he sat his
+      horse, his rifle across the pommel, it would have made another man of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      If his uncle was awake!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He was not only awake, but he was very much alive.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I've got a great piece of news for you, Uncle George!&rdquo; Harry shouted in a
+      rollicking tone, his joy increasing as he noted his uncle's renewed
+      strength.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So have I got a great piece of news for you!&rdquo; was shouted back. &ldquo;Come in,
+      you young rascal, and shut that door behind you. She isn't going to marry
+      Willits. Thrown him over&mdash;don't want him&mdash;don't love him&mdash;can't
+      love him&mdash;never did love him! She's just told me so. Whoop&mdash;hurrah!
+      I Dance, you dog, before I throw this chair at you!!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      There are some moments in a man's life when all language fails;&mdash;pantomime
+      moments, when one stares and tries to speak and stares again. They were
+      both at it&mdash;St. George waiting until Harry should explode, and Harry
+      trying to get his breath, the earth opening under him, the skies falling
+      all about his head.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;She told you so! When!&rdquo; he gasped.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Two minutes ago&mdash;you've just missed her! Where the devil have you
+      been? Why didn't you come in before?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kate here&mdash;two minutes ago&mdash;what will I do?&rdquo; Had he found
+      himself at sea in an open boat with both oars adrift he could not have
+      been more helpless.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;DO! Catch her before she gets home! Quick!&mdash;just as you are&mdash;sailor
+      clothes and all!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But how will I know if&mdash;?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You don't have to know! Away with you, I tell you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And away he went&mdash;and if you will believe it, dear reader&mdash;without
+      even a whisper in his uncle's ears of the good news he had come to tell.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXX
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      Ben let him in.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He came as an apparition, the old butler balancing the door in his hand,
+      as if undecided what to do, trying to account for the change in the young
+      man's appearance&mdash;the width of shoulders, the rough clothes, and the
+      determined glance of his eye.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Fo' Gawd, it's Marse Harry!&rdquo; was all he said when he could get his mouth
+      open.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Ben&mdash;go and tell your mistress I am here,&rdquo; and he brushed past
+      him and pushed back the drawing-room door. Once inside he crossed to the
+      mantel and stood with his back to the hearth, his sailor's cap in his
+      hand, his eyes fixed on the door he had just closed behind him. Through it
+      would come the beginning or the end of his life. Ben's noiseless entrance
+      and exit a moment after, with his mistress's message neither raised nor
+      depressed his hopes. He had known all along she would not refuse to see
+      him: what would come after was the wall that loomed up.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      She had not hesitated, nor did she keep him waiting. Her eyes were still
+      red with weeping, her hair partly dishevelled, when Ben found her&mdash;but
+      she did not seem to care. Nor was she frightened&mdash;nor eager. She just
+      lifted her cheek from Mammy Henny's caressing hand&mdash;pushed back the
+      hair from her face with a movement as if she was trying to collect her
+      thoughts, and without rising from her knees heard Ben's message to the
+      end. Then she answered calmly:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Did you say Mr. Harry Rutter, Ben? Tell him I'll be down in a moment.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She entered with that same graceful movement which he loved so well&mdash;her
+      head up, her face turned frankly toward him, one hand extended in welcome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Uncle George told me you were back, Harry. It was very good of you to
+      come,&rdquo; and sank on the sofa.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      It had been but a few steps to him&mdash;the space between the open door
+      and the hearth rug on which he stood&mdash;and it had taken her but a few
+      seconds to cross it, but in that brief interval the heavens had opened
+      above her. The old Harry was there&mdash;the smile&mdash;the flash in the
+      eyes&mdash;the joy of seeing her&mdash;the quick movement of his hand in
+      gracious salute; then there had followed a sense of his strength, of the
+      calm poise of his body, of the clearness of his skin. She saw, too, how
+      much handsomer he had grown,&mdash;and noted the rough sailor's clothes.
+      How well they fitted his robust frame! And the clear, calm eyes and finely
+      cut features&mdash;no shrinking from responsibility in that face; no
+      faltering&mdash;the old ideal of her early love and the new ideal of her
+      sailor boy&mdash;the one Richard's voice had conjured&mdash;welded into
+      one personality!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I heard you had just been in to see Uncle George, Kate, and I tried to
+      overtake you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Not much: nothing in fact. Playwriters tell us that the dramatic situation
+      is the thing, and that the spoken word is as unimportant to the play as
+      the foot-lights&mdash;except as a means of illuminating the situation.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;I have just left him, Harry. Uncle George looks very badly&mdash;don't
+      you think so? Is there anything very serious the matter? I sent Ben to Dr.
+      Teackle's, but he was not in his office.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had moved up a chair and sat devouring every vibration of her lips,
+      every glance of her wondrous eyes&mdash;all the little movements of her
+      beautiful body&mdash;her dress&mdash;the way the stray strands of hair had
+      escaped to her shoulders. His Kate!&mdash;and yet he dare not touch her!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he is not ill. He took a severe cold and only needs rest and a little
+      care. I am glad you went and&mdash;&rdquo; then the pent-up flood broke loose.
+      &ldquo;Are you glad to see me, Kate?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I am always glad to see you, Harry&mdash;and you look so well. It has
+      been nearly three years, hasn't it?&rdquo; Her calmness was maddening; she spoke
+      as if she was reciting a part in which she had no personal interest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I don't know&mdash;I haven't counted&mdash;not that way. I have lain
+      awake too many nights and suffered too much to count by years. I count by&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She raised her hand in protest: &ldquo;Don't Harry&mdash;please don't. All the
+      suffering has not been yours!&rdquo; The impersonal tone was gone&mdash;there
+      was a note of agony in her voice.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      His manner softened: &ldquo;Don't think I blame you, Kate. I love you too much
+      to blame you&mdash;you did right. The suffering has only done me good&mdash;I
+      am a different man from the one you once knew. I see life with a wider
+      vision. I know what it is to be hungry; I know, too, what it is to earn
+      the bread that has kept me alive. I came home to look after Uncle George.
+      When I go back I want to take him with me. I won't count the years nor all
+      the suffering I have gone through if I can pay him back what I owe him. He
+      stood by me when everybody else deserted me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She winced a little at the thrust, as if he had touched some sore spot,
+      sending a shiver of pain through her frame, but she did not defend
+      herself.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;You mustn't take him away, Harry&mdash;leave Uncle George to me,&rdquo; not as
+      if she demanded it&mdash;more as if she was stating a fact.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why not? He will be another man out in Brazil&mdash;and he can live there
+      like a gentleman on what he will have left&mdash;so Pawson thinks.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Because I love him dearly&mdash;and when he is gone I have nobody left,&rdquo;
+       she answered in a hopeless tone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry hesitated, then he asked: &ldquo;And so what Uncle George told me about
+      Mr. Willits is true?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Kate looked at him furtively&mdash;as if afraid to read his thoughts and
+      for reply bowed her head in assent.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Didn't he love you enough?&rdquo; There was a certain reproach in his tone, as
+      if no one could love this woman enough to satisfy her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;What was the matter then? Was it&mdash;&rdquo; He stopped&mdash;his eagerness
+      had led him onto dangerous, if not discourteous, grounds. &ldquo;No, you needn't
+      answer&mdash;forgive me for asking&mdash;I had no right. I am not myself,
+      Kate&mdash;I didn't mean to&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, I'll tell you. I told Uncle George. I didn't like him well enough&mdash;that's
+      all.&rdquo; All this time she was looking him calmly in the face. If she had
+      done anything to be ashamed of she did not intend to conceal it from her
+      former lover.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And will Uncle George take his place now that he's gone? Do you ever know
+      your own heart, Kate?&rdquo; There was no bitterness in his question. Her
+      frankness had disarmed him of that. It was more in the nature of an
+      inquiry, as if he was probing for something on which he could build a
+      hope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For a brief instant she made no answer; then she said slowly and with a
+      certain positiveness:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;If I had I would have saved myself and you a great deal of misery.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;And Langdon Willits?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, he cannot complain&mdash;he does not&mdash;I promised him nothing.
+      But I have been so beaten about, and I have tried so hard to do right; and
+      it has all crumbled to pieces. As for you and me, Harry, let us both
+      forget that we have ever had any differences. I can't bear to think that
+      whenever you come home we must avoid each other. We were friends once&mdash;let
+      us be friends again. It was very kind of you to come. I'm glad you didn't
+      wait. Don't be bitter in your heart toward me.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Harry left his chair and settled down on the sofa beside her, and in
+      pleading, tender tones said:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kate&mdash;When was I ever bitter toward you in my heart? Look at me! Do
+      you realize how I love you?&mdash;Do you know it sets me half crazy to
+      hear you talk like that? I haven't come here to-day to reproach you&mdash;I
+      have come to do what I can to help you, if you want my help. I told you
+      the last time we talked in the park that I wouldn't stay in Kennedy Square
+      a day longer even if you begged me to. That is over now; I'll do now
+      anything you wish me to do; I'll go or I'll stay. I love you too much to
+      do anything else.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, you don't love me!&mdash;you can't love me! I wouldn't let you love
+      me after all the misery I have caused you! I didn't know how much until I
+      began to suffer myself and saw Mr. Willits suffer. I am not worthy of any
+      man's love. I will never trust myself again&mdash;I can only try to be to
+      the men about me as Uncle George is to everyone. Oh, Harry!&mdash;Harry!&mdash;Why
+      was I born this way&mdash;headstrong wilful&mdash;never satisfied? Why am
+      I different from the other women?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He tried to take her hand, but she drew it away.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No!&mdash;not that!&mdash;not that! Let us be just as we were when&mdash;Just
+      as we used to be. Sit over there where I can see you better and watch your
+      face as you talk. Tell me all you have done&mdash;what you have seen and
+      what sort of places you have been in. We heard from you through&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He squared his shoulders and faced her, his voice ringing clear, his eyes
+      flashing: something of the old Dutch admiral was in his face.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Kate&mdash;I will have none of it! Don't talk such nonsense to me; I
+      won't listen. If you don't know your own heart I know mine; you've GOT to
+      love me!&mdash;you MUST love me! Look at me. In all the years I have been
+      away from you I have lived the life you would have me live&mdash;every
+      request you ever made of me I have carried out. I did this knowing you
+      would never be my wife and you would be Willits's! I did it because you
+      were my Madonna and my religion and I loved the soul of you and lived for
+      you as men live to please the God they have never seen. There were days
+      and nights when I never expected to see you or any one else whom I loved
+      again&mdash;but you never failed&mdash;your light never went out in my
+      heart. Don't you see now why you've got to love me? What was it you loved
+      in me once that I haven't got now? How am I different? What do I lack?
+      Look into my eyes&mdash;close&mdash;deep down&mdash;read my heart! Never,
+      as God is my judge, have I done a thing since I last kissed your forehead,
+      that you would have been ashamed of. Do you think, now that you are free,
+      that I am going back without you? I am not that kind of a man.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She half started from her seat: &ldquo;Harry!&rdquo; she cried in a helpless tone&mdash;&ldquo;you
+      do not know what you are saying&mdash;you must not&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He leaned over and took both her hands firmly in his own.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look at me! Tell me the truth&mdash;as you would to your God! Do you love
+      me?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      She made an effort to withdraw her hands, then she sank back.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;I&mdash;I&mdash;don't know&mdash;&rdquo; she murmured.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;YOU DO&mdash;search again&mdash;way down in your heart. Go over every day
+      we have lived&mdash;when we were children and played together&mdash;all
+      that horror at Moorlands when I shot Willits&mdash;the night of Mrs.
+      Cheston's ball when I was drunk&mdash;all the hours I have held you in my
+      arms, my lips to yours&mdash;All of it&mdash;every hour of it&mdash;balance
+      one against the other. Think of your loneliness&mdash;not mine&mdash;yours&mdash;and
+      then tell me you do not know! You DO know! Oh, my God, Kate!&mdash;you
+      must love me! What else would you want a man to do for you that I have not
+      done?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He stretched out his arms, but she sprang to her feet and put out her
+      palms as a barrier.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No. Let me tell you something. We must have no more misunderstandings&mdash;you
+      must be sure&mdash;I must be sure. I have no right to take your heart in
+      my hands again. It is I who have broken my faith with you, not you with
+      me. I was truly your wife when I promised you here on the sofa that last
+      time. I knew then that you would, perhaps, lose your head again, and yet I
+      loved you so much that I could not give you up. Then came the night of
+      your father's ball and all the misery, and I was a coward and shut myself
+      up instead of keeping my arms around you and holding you up to the best
+      that was in you, just as Uncle George begged me to do. And when your
+      father turned against you and drove you from your home, all because you
+      had tried to defend me from insult, I saw only the disgrace and did not
+      see the man behind it; and then you went away and I stretched out my arms
+      for you to come back to me and only your words echoed in my ears that you
+      would never come back to me until you were satisfied with yourself. Then I
+      gave up and argued it out and said it was all over&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He had left his seat and at every sentence had tried to take her in his
+      arms, but she kept her palms toward him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;No, don't touch me! You SHALL hear me out; I must empty all my heart! I
+      was lonely and heart-sore and driven half wild with doubts and what people
+      said, my father worse than all of them. And Mr. Willits was kind and
+      always at my beck and call&mdash;and so thoughtful and attentive&mdash;and
+      I tried and tried&mdash;but I couldn't. I always had you before me&mdash;and
+      you haunted me day and night, and sometimes when he would come in that
+      door I used to start, hoping it might be you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;It IS me, my darling!&rdquo; he cried, springing toward her. &ldquo;I don't want to
+      hear any more&mdash;I must&mdash;I will&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;But you SHALL! There IS something more. It went on and on and I got so
+      that I did not care, and one day I thought I would give him my promise and
+      the next day all my soul rebelled against it and it was that way until one
+      night Mr. Horn read aloud a story&mdash;and it all came over me and I saw
+      everything plain as if it had been on a stage, and myself and you and Mr.
+      Willits&mdash;and what it meant&mdash;and what would come of it&mdash;and
+      he walked home with me and I told him frankly, and I have never seen him
+      since. And now here is the last and you must hear it out. There is not a
+      word I have said to him which I would recall&mdash;not a thing I am
+      ashamed of. Your lips were the last that touched my own. There, my
+      darling, it is all told. I love you with my whole heart and soul and mind
+      and body&mdash;I have never loved anybody else&mdash;I have tried and
+      tried and couldn't. I am so tired of thinking for myself,&mdash;so tired,&mdash;so
+      tired. Take me and do with me as you will!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Again the plot is too strong for the dialogue. He had her fast in his arms
+      before her confession was finished. Then the two sank on the sofa where
+      she lay sobbing her heart out, he crooning over her&mdash;patting her
+      cheeks, kissing away the tears from her eyelids; smoothing the strands of
+      her hair with his strong, firm fingers. It was his Kate that lay in his
+      grasp&mdash;close&mdash;tightly pressed&mdash;her heart beating against
+      his, her warm, throbbing body next his own, her heart swept of every doubt
+      and care, all her will gone.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As she grew quiet she stretched up her hand, touching his cheek as if to
+      reassure herself that it was really her lover. Yes! It was Harry&mdash;HER
+      Harry&mdash;Harry who was dead and is alive again&mdash;to whom she had
+      stripped her soul naked&mdash;and who still trusted and loved her.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      A little later she loosened herself from his embrace and taking his face
+      in her small, white hands looked long and earnestly into his eyes,
+      smoothing back the hair from his brow as she used to do; kissing him on
+      the forehead, on each eyelid, and then on the mouth&mdash;one of their
+      old-time caresses. Still remembering the old days, she threw back his coat
+      and let her hands wander over his full-corded throat and chest and arms.
+      How big and strong he had become! and how handsome he had grown&mdash;the
+      boy merged into the man. And that other something! (and another and
+      stronger thrill shot through her)&mdash;that other something which seemed
+      to flow out of him;&mdash;that dominating force that betokened leadership,
+      compelling her to follow&mdash;not the imperiousness of his father,
+      brooking no opposition no matter at what cost, but the leadership of
+      experience, courage, and self-reliance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      With this the sense of possession swept over her. He was all her own and
+      for ever! A man to lean upon; a man to be proud of; one who would listen
+      and understand: to whom she could surrender her last stronghold&mdash;her
+      will. And the comfort of it all; the rest, the quiet, the assurance of
+      everlasting peace: she who had been so torn and buffeted and heart-sore.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      For many minutes she lay still from sheer happiness, thrilled by the
+      warmth and pressure of his strong arms. At last, when another thought
+      could squeeze itself into her mind, she said: &ldquo;Won't Uncle George be glad,
+      Harry?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered, releasing her just far enough to look into her eyes.
+      &ldquo;It will make him well. You made him very happy this morning. His troubles
+      are over, I hear&mdash;he's going to get a lot of his money back.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh, I'm so glad. And will we take him with us?&rdquo; she asked wonderingly,
+      smoothing back his hair as she spoke.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take him where, darling?&rdquo; he laughed.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;To where we are going&mdash;No, you needn't laugh&mdash;I mean it. I
+      don't care where we go,&rdquo; and she looked at him intently. &ldquo;I'll go with you
+      anywhere in the world you say, and I'll start to-morrow.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      He caught her again in his arms, kissed her for the hundredth time, and
+      then suddenly relaxing his hold asked in assumed alarm: &ldquo;And what about
+      your father? What do you think he will say? He always thought me a madcap
+      scapegrace&mdash;didn't he?&rdquo; The memory brought up no regret. He didn't
+      care a rap what the Honorable Prim thought of him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;he thinks so now,&rdquo; she echoed, wondering how anybody could have
+      formed any such ideas of her Harry.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Well, he will get over it when I talk with him about his coffee people.
+      Some of his agents out there want looking after.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Oh!&mdash;how lovely, my precious; talking coffee will be much pleasanter
+      than talking me!&mdash;and yet we have got to do it somehow when he comes
+      home.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And down went her head again, she nestling the closer as if terrified at
+      the thought of the impending meeting; then another kiss followed&mdash;dozens
+      of them&mdash;neither of them keeping count, and then&mdash;and then&mdash;...................................
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And then&mdash;Ben tapped gently and announced that dinner was served, and
+      Harry stared at the moon-faced dial and saw that it was long after two
+      o'clock, and wondered what in the world had become of the four hours that
+      had passed since he had rushed down from his uncle's and into Kate's arms.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And so we will leave them&mdash;playing housekeeping&mdash;Harry pulling
+      out her chair, she spreading her dainty skirts and saying &ldquo;Thank you, Mr.
+      Rutter&mdash;&rdquo; and Ben with his face in so broad a grin that it got set
+      that way&mdash;Aunt Dinah, the cook, having to ask him three times &ldquo;Was he
+      gwineter hab a fit&rdquo; before he could answer by reason of the chuckle which
+      was suffocating him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And now as we must close the door for a brief space on the happy couple&mdash;never
+      so happy in all their lives&mdash;it will be just as well for us to find
+      out what the mischief is going on at the club&mdash;for there is something
+      going on&mdash;and that of unusual importance.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Everybody is out on the front steps. Old Bowdoin is craning his short
+      neck, and Judge Pancoast is saying that it is impossible and then instatly
+      changing his mind, saying: &ldquo;By jove it is!&rdquo;&mdash;and Richard Horn and
+      Warfield and Murdoch are leaning over the balcony rail still unconvinced
+      and old Harding is pounding his fat thigh with his pudgy hand in
+      ill-concealed delight.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Yes&mdash;there is no doubt of it&mdash;hasn't been any doubt of it since
+      the judge shouted out the glad tidings which emptied every chair in the
+      club: Across the park, beyond the rickety, vine-covered fence and close
+      beside the Temple Mansion, stands a four-in-hand, the afternoon sun
+      flashing from the silver mountings of the harness and glinting on the
+      polished body and wheels of the coach. Then a crack of the whip, a wind of
+      the horn, and they are off&mdash;the leaders stretching the traces, two
+      men on the box, two grooms in the rear. Hurrah! Well, by thunder, who
+      would have believed it&mdash;that's Temple inside on the back seat! &ldquo;There
+      he is waving his hand and Todd is with him. And yes! Why of course it's
+      Rutter! See him clear that curb! Not a man in this county can drive like
+      that but Talbot.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Round they come&mdash;the colonel straight as a whip&mdash;dusty-brown
+      overcoat, flowers in his buttonhole&mdash;bell-crowned hat, brown driving
+      gloves&mdash;perfectly appointed, even if he is a trifle pale and half
+      blind. More horn&mdash;a long joyous note now, as if they were heralding
+      the peace of the world, the colonel bowing like a grand duke as he passes
+      the assembled crowd&mdash;a gathering of the reins together, a sudden
+      pull-up at Seymours', everybody on the front porch&mdash;Kate peeping over
+      Harry's shoulder&mdash;and last and best of all, St. George's cheery voice
+      ringing out:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Where are you two sweethearts!&rdquo; Not a weak note anywhere; regular
+      fog-horn of a voice blown to help shipwrecked mariners.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All aboard for Moorlands, you turtle-doves&mdash;never mind your clothes,
+      Kate&mdash;nor you either, Harry. Your father will send for them later. Up
+      with you.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;All true, Harry,&rdquo; called back the colonel from the top of the coach
+      (nobody alighted but the grooms&mdash;there wasn't time&mdash;) &ldquo;Your
+      mother wouldn't wait another hour and sent me for you, and Teackle said
+      St. George could go, and we bundled him up and brought him along and you
+      are all going to stay a month. No, don't wait a minute, Kate; I want to
+      get home before dark. One of my men will be in with the carryall and bring
+      out your mammy and your clothes and whatever you want. Your father is away
+      I hear, and so nobody will miss you. Get your heavy driving coat, my dear;
+      I brought one of mine in for Harry&mdash;it will be cold before we get
+      home. Matthew, your eyes are better than mine, get down and see what the
+      devil is the matter with that horse. No, it's all right&mdash;the
+      check-rein bothered him.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And so ended the day that had been so happily begun, and the night was no
+      less joyful with the mother's arms about her beloved boy and Kate on a
+      stool beside her and Talbot and St. George deep in certain vintages&mdash;or
+      perhaps certain vintages deep in Talbot and St. George&mdash;especially
+      that particular and peculiar old Madeira of 1800, which his friend Mr.
+      Jefferson had sent him from Monticello, and which was never served except
+      to some such distinguished guest as his highly esteemed and well-beloved
+      friend of many years, St. George Wilmot Temple of Kennedy Square.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXI
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      It would be delightful to describe the happy days at Moorlands during St.
+      George's convalescence, when the love-life of Harry and Kate was one long,
+      uninterrupted, joyous dream. When mother, father, and son were again
+      united&mdash;what a meeting was that, once she got her arms around her
+      son's neck and held him close and wept her heart out in thankfulness!&mdash;and
+      the life of the old-time past was revived&mdash;a life softened and made
+      restful and kept glad by the lessons all had learned. And it would be more
+      delightful still to carry the record of these charming hours far into the
+      summer had not St. George, eager to be under his own roof in Kennedy
+      Square, declared he could stay no longer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not that his welcome had grown less warm. He and his host had long since
+      unravelled all their difficulties, the last knot having been cut the
+      afternoon the colonel, urged on by Harry's mother&mdash;his disappointment
+      over his sons's coldness set at rest by her pleadings&mdash;had driven
+      into town for Harry in his coach, as has been said, and swept the whole
+      party, including St. George, out to Moorlands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Various unrelated causes had brought about this much-to-be-desired result,
+      the most important being the news of the bank's revival, which Harry, in
+      his mad haste to overtake Kate, had forgotten to tell his uncle, and which
+      St. George learned half an hour later from Pawson, together with a full
+      account of what the colonel had done to bring about the happy result&mdash;a
+      bit of information which so affected Temple that, when the coach with the
+      colonel on the box had whirled up, he, weak as he was, had struggled to
+      the front door, both hands held out, in welcome.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Talbot&mdash;old fellow,&rdquo; he had said with a tear in his voice, &ldquo;I have
+      misunderstood you and I beg your pardon. You've behaved like a man, and I
+      thank you from the bottom of my heart!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      At which the stern old aristocrat had replied, as he took St. George's two
+      hands in his: &ldquo;Let us forget all about it, St. George. I made a damned
+      fool of myself. We all get too cocky sometimes.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Then there had followed&mdash;the colonel listening with bated breath&mdash;St.
+      George's account of Kate's confession and Harry's sudden exit, Rutter's
+      face brightening as it had not done for years when he learned that Harry
+      had not yet returned from the Seymours', the day's joy being capped by the
+      arrival of Dr. Teackle, who had given his permission with an &ldquo;All right&mdash;the
+      afternoon is fine and the air will do Mr. Temple a world of good,&rdquo; and so
+      St. George was bundled up and the reader knows the rest.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Later on&mdash;at Moorlands of course&mdash;the colonel, whose eyes were
+      getting better by the day and Gorsuch whose face was now one round
+      continuous smile, got to work, and had a heart-to-heart&mdash;or rather a
+      pocket-to-pocket talk&mdash;which was quite different in those days from
+      what it would be now&mdash;after which both Kate and Harry threw to the
+      winds all thoughts of Rio and the country contiguous thereto, and
+      determined instead to settle down at Moorlands. And then a great big iron
+      door sunk in a brick vault was swung wide and certain leather-bound books
+      were brought out&mdash;and particularly a sum of money which Harry duly
+      handed over to Pawson the next time he drove to town&mdash;(twice a week
+      now)&mdash;and which, when recounted, balanced to a cent the total of the
+      bills which Pawson had paid three years before, with interest added, a
+      list of which the attorney still kept in his private drawer with certain
+      other valuable papers tied with red tape, marked &ldquo;St. G. W. T.&rdquo; And still
+      later on&mdash;within a week&mdash;there had come the news of the final
+      settlement of the long-disputed lawsuit with St. George as principal
+      residuary legatee&mdash;and so our long-suffering hero was once more
+      placed upon his financial legs: the only way he could have been placed
+      upon them or would have been placed upon them&mdash;a fact very well known
+      to every one who had tried to help him, his philosophy being that one
+      dollar borrowed is two dollars owed&mdash;the difference being a man's
+      self-respect.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And it is truly marvellous what this change in his fortunes accomplished.
+      His slack body rounded out; his sunken cheeks plumped up until every
+      crease and crack were gone, his color regained its freshness, his eyes
+      their brilliancy; his legs took on their old-time spring and lightness&mdash;and
+      a wonderful pair of stand-bys, or stand-ups, or stand-arounds they were as
+      legs go&mdash;that is legs of a man of fifty-five.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And they were never idle, these legs: there was no sitting cross-legged in
+      a chair for St. George: he was not constructed along those lines. Hardly a
+      week had passed before he had them across Spitfire's mate; had ridden to
+      hounds; danced a minuet with Harry and Kate; walked half-way to Kennedy
+      Square and back&mdash;they thought he was going to walk all the way and
+      headed him off just in time; and best of all&mdash;(and this is worthy of
+      special mention)&mdash;had slipped them into the lower section of a suit
+      of clothes&mdash;and these his own, although he had not yet paid for them&mdash;the
+      colonel having liquidated their cost. These trousers, it is just as well
+      to state, had arrived months before from Poole, along with a suit of
+      Rutter's and the colonel had forwarded a draft for the whole amount
+      without examining the contents, until Alec had called his attention to the
+      absurd width of the legs&mdash;and the ridiculous spread of the seat. My
+      Lord of Moorlands, after the scene in the Temple Mansion, dared not send
+      them in to St. George, and they had accordingly lain ever since on top of
+      his wardrobe with Alec as chief of the Moth Department. St. George, on his
+      arrival, found them folded carefully and placed on a chair&mdash;Todd
+      chief valet. Whereupon there had been a good-natured row when our man of
+      fashion appeared at breakfast rigged out in all his finery, everybody
+      clapping their hands and saying how handsome he looked&mdash;St. George in
+      reply denouncing Talbot as a brigand of a Brummel who had stolen his
+      clothes, tried to wear them, and then when out of fashion thrown them back
+      on his hands.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All these, and a thousand other delightful things, it would, I say, be
+      eminently worth while to dilate upon&mdash;(including a series of whoops
+      and hand-springs which Todd threw against the rear wall of the big kitchen
+      five seconds after Alec had told him of the discomfiture of &ldquo;dat
+      red-haided gemman,&rdquo; and of Marse Harry's good fortune)&mdash;were it not
+      that certain mysterious happenings are taking place inside and out of the
+      Temple house in Kennedy Square&mdash;happenings exciting universal
+      comment, and of such transcendent importance that the Scribe is compelled,
+      much against his will&mdash;for the present installment is entirely too
+      short&mdash;to confine their telling to a special chapter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032">
+      <!--  H2 anchor --> </a>
+    </p>
+    <div style="height: 4em;">
+      <br /><br /><br /><br />
+    </div>
+    <h2>
+      CHAPTER XXXII
+    </h2>
+    <p>
+      For some time back, then be it said, various strollers unfamiliar with the
+      neighbors or the neighborhood of Kennedy Square, poor benighted folk who
+      knew nothing of the events set down in the preceding chapters, had nodded
+      knowingly to each other or shaken their pates deprecatingly over the
+      passing of &ldquo;another old landmark.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Some of these had gone so far as to say that the cause could be found in
+      the fact that Lawyer Temple had run through what little money his father
+      and grandmother had left him; additional wise-acres were of the opinion
+      that some out-of-town folks had bought the place and were trying to prop
+      it up so it wouldn't tumble into the street, while one, more facetious
+      than the others, had claimed that it was no wonder it was falling down,
+      since the only new thing Temple had put upon it was a heavy mortgage.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The immediate neighbors, however,&mdash;the friends of the house&mdash;had
+      smiled and passed on. They had no such forebodings. On the contrary
+      nothing so diverting&mdash;nothing so enchanting&mdash;had happened around
+      Kennedy Square in years. In fact, when one of these humorists began
+      speaking about it, every listener heard the story in a broad grin. Some of
+      the more hilarious even nudged each other in the waist-coats and ordered
+      another round of toddies&mdash;for two or three, or even five, if there
+      were that number of enthusiasts about the club tables. When they were
+      asked what it was all about they invariably shook their heads, winked, and
+      kept still&mdash;that is, if the question were put by some one outside the
+      magic circle of Kennedy Square.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      All the general public knew was that men with bricks in hods had been seen
+      staggering up the old staircase with its spindle banisters and mahogany
+      rail; that additional operatives had been discovered clinging to the
+      slanting roof long enough to pass up to further experts grouped about the
+      chimneys small rolls of tin and big bundles of shingles; that plasterers
+      in white caps and aprons, with mortar-boards in one hand and trowels in
+      the other, had been seen chinking up cracks; while any number of painters,
+      carpenters, and locksmiths were working away for dear life all over the
+      place from Aunt Jemima's kitchen to Todd's bunk under the roof.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      In addition to all this curious wagons had been seen to back up to the
+      curb, from which had been taken various odd-looking bundles; these were
+      laid on the dining-room floor, a collection of paint pots, brushes, and
+      wads of putty being pushed aside to give them room&mdash;and with some
+      haste too, for every one seemed to be working overtime.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As to what went on inside the mansion itself not the most inquisitive
+      could fathom: no one being permitted to peer even into Pawson's office,
+      where so large a collection of household goods and gods were sprawled,
+      heaped, and hung, that it looked as if there had been a fire in the
+      neighborhood, and this room the only shelter for miles around. Even
+      Pawson's law books were completely hidden by the overflow and so were the
+      tables, chairs, and shelves, together with the two wide window-sills.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Nor did it seem to matter very much to the young attorney as to how or at
+      what hours of the day or night these several articles arrived. Often quite
+      late in the evening&mdash;and this happened more than once&mdash;an old
+      fellow, pinched and wheezy, would sneak in, uncover a mysterious object
+      wrapped in a square of stringy calico, fumble in his pocket for a scrap of
+      paper, put his name at the bottom of it, and sneak out again five, ten, or
+      twenty dollars better off. Once, as late as eleven o'clock, a fattish
+      gentleman with a hooked nose and a positive dialect, assisted another
+      stout member of his race to slide a very large object from out the tail of
+      a cart. Whereupon there had been an interchange of wisps of paper between
+      Pawson and the fatter of the two men, the late visitors bowing and smiling
+      until they reached a street lantern where they divided a roll of
+      bank-notes between them.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the delight that Pawson and Gadgem took in it all!&mdash;assorting,
+      verifying, checking off&mdash;slapping each other's backs in glee when
+      some doubtful find was made certain, and growing even more excited on the
+      days when Harry and Kate would drive or ride in from Moorlands&mdash;almost
+      every day of late&mdash;tie the horse and carry-all, or both
+      saddle-horses, to St. George's tree-boxes, and at once buckle on their
+      armor.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      This, rendered into common prose, meant that Harry, after a prolonged
+      consultation with Pawson and Gadgem, would shed his outer coat, the spring
+      being now far advanced, blossoms out and the weather warm&mdash;and that
+      Kate would tuck her petticoats clear of her dear little feet and go
+      pattering round, her sleeves rolled up as far as they would go, her
+      beautiful arms bare almost to her shoulders&mdash;her hair smothered in a
+      brown barege veil to keep out the dust&mdash;the most bewitching
+      parlor-maid you or anybody else ever laid eyes on. Then would follow such
+      a carrying up of full baskets and carrying down of empty ones; such a
+      spreading of carpets and rugs; such an arranging of china and glass; such
+      a placing of andirons, fenders, shovels, tongs, and bellows; hanging of
+      pictures, curtains, and mirrors&mdash;old and new; moving in of sofas,
+      chairs, and rockers; making up of beds with fluted frills on the pillows&mdash;a
+      silk patchwork quilt on St. George's bed and cotton counterpanes for
+      Jemima and Todd!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      And the secrecy maintained by everybody! Pawson might have been stone deaf
+      and entirely blind for all the information you could twist out of him&mdash;and
+      a lot of people tried. And as to Gadgem&mdash;the dumbest oyster in
+      Cherrystone Creek was a veritable magpie when it came to his giving the
+      precise reason why the Temple Mansion was being restored from top to
+      bottom and why all its old furniture, fittings, and trappings&mdash;(brand-new
+      ones when they couldn't be found in the pawn shops or elsewhere)&mdash;were
+      being gathered together within its four walls. When anybody asked Kate&mdash;and
+      plenty of people did&mdash;she would throw her head back and laugh so loud
+      and so merrily and so musically, that you would have thought all the birds
+      in Kennedy Square park were still welcoming the spring. When you asked
+      Harry he would smile and wink and perhaps keep on whispering to Pawson or
+      Gadgem whose eyes were glued to a list which had its abiding place in
+      Pawson's top drawer.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Outside of these four conspirators&mdash;yes, six&mdash;for both Todd and
+      Jemima were in it, only a very few were aware of what was really being
+      done. The colonel of course knew, and so did Harry's mother&mdash;and so
+      did old Alec who had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from
+      snickering out loud at the breakfast table when he accidentally overheard
+      what was going on&mdash;an unpardonable offence&mdash;(not the listening,
+      but the laughing). In fact everybody in the big house at Moorlands knew,
+      for Alec spread it broadcast in the kitchen and cabins&mdash;everybody
+      EXCEPT ST. GEORGE.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Not a word reached St. George&mdash;not a syllable. No one of the house
+      servants would have spoiled the fun, and certainly no one of the great
+      folks. It was only when his visit to Moorlands was over and he had driven
+      into town and had walked up his own front steps, that the true situation
+      in all its glory and brilliancy dawned upon him.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      The polished knobs, knocker, and the perfect level and whiteness of the
+      marble steps first caught his eye; then the door swung open and Jemima in
+      white apron and bandanna stood bowing to the floor, Todd straight as a
+      ramrod in a new livery and a grin on his face that cut it in two, with
+      Kate and Harry hidden behind them, suffocating from suppressed laughter.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Why, you dear Jemima! Howdy&mdash;... Why, who the devil sent that old
+      table back, Todd, and the hall rack and&mdash;What!&rdquo; Here he entered the
+      dining-room. Everything was as he remembered it in the old days. &ldquo;Harry!
+      Kate!&mdash;Why&mdash;&rdquo; then he broke down and dropped into a chair, his
+      eyes still roaming around the room taking in every object, even the loving
+      cup, which Mr. Kennedy had made a personal point of buying back from the
+      French secretary, who was gracious enough to part with it when he learned
+      the story of its enforced sale&mdash;each and every one of them&mdash;ready
+      to spring forward from its place to welcome him!
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;So this,&rdquo; he stammered out&mdash;&ldquo;is what you have kept me up at
+      Moorlands for, is it? You never say a word to me&mdash;and&mdash;Oh, you
+      children!&mdash;you children! Todd, did you ever see anything like it?&mdash;my
+      guns&mdash;and the loving cup&mdash;and the clock, and&mdash;Come here you
+      two blessed things and let me get my arms around you! Kiss me, Kate&mdash;and
+      Harry, my son&mdash;give me your hand. No, don't say a word&mdash;don't
+      mind me&mdash;I'm all knocked out and&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Down went his face in his hands and he in a heap in the chair; then he
+      stiffened and gave a little shiver to his elbows in the effort to keep
+      himself from going completely to pieces, and scrambled to his feet again,
+      one arm around Kate's neck, his free hand in Harry's.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Take me everywhere and show me everything. Todd, go and find Mr. Pawson
+      and see if Mr. Gadgem is anywhere around; they've had something to do with
+      this&rdquo;&mdash;here his eyes took in Todd&mdash;&ldquo;You damned scoundrel, who
+      the devil rigged you out in that new suit?&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Marse Harry done sont me to de tailor. See dem buttons?&mdash;but dey
+      ain't nuthin' to what's on the top shelf&mdash;you'll bust yo'self wide
+      open a-laughin', Marse George, when ye sees what's in dar&mdash;you gotter
+      come wid me&mdash;please Mistis an' Marse Harry, you come too. Dis way&mdash;&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd was full to bursting. Had his grin been half an inch wider his ears
+      would have dropped off.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;An' fore ye look at dem shelves der's annuder thing I gotter tell ye;&mdash;an'
+      dat is dat the dogs&mdash;all fo' oh em is comin' in the mawnin'. Mister
+      Floyd's coach-man done tole me so,&rdquo; and with a jerk and a whoop,
+      completely ignoring his master's exclamation of joy over the return of his
+      beloved setters, the darky threw back the door of the little cubby-hole of
+      a room where the Black Warrior and his brethren had once rested in peace,
+      and pointed to a row of erect black bottles backed by another of recumbent
+      ones.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Look at dat wine, will ye, Marse George,&rdquo; he shouted, &ldquo;all racked up on
+      dern shelves? Dat come f'om Mister Talbot Rutter wid dis yere cyard&mdash;&rdquo;
+       and he handed it out.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      St. George reached over, took it from his hand, and read it aloud:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;With the compliments of an old friend, who sends you herewith a few
+      bottles of the Jefferson and some Sercial and old Port&mdash;and a basket
+      or two of Royal Brown Sherry&mdash;nothing like your own, but the best he
+      could scare up.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Soon the newly polished and replated knocker began to get in its liveliest
+      work: &ldquo;Mrs. Richard Horn's compliments, and would St. George be pleased to
+      accept a basket of Maryland biscuit and a sallylunn just out of the oven.&rdquo;
+       Mrs. Bowdoin's compliments with three brace of ducks&mdash;&ldquo;a little late
+      in the season, my dear St. George, but they are just up from Currytuck
+      where Mr. Bowdoin has had extremely good luck&mdash;for Mr. Bowdoin.&rdquo;
+       &ldquo;Mrs. Cheston's congratulations, and would Mr. Temple do her the honor of
+      placing on his sideboard an old Accomack County ham which her cook had
+      baked that morning and which should have all the charm and flavor of the
+      State which had given him birth&mdash;&rdquo; and last a huge basket of spring
+      roses from Miss Virginia Clendenning, accompanied by a card bearing the
+      inscription&mdash;&ldquo;You don't deserve them, you renegade,&rdquo; and signed&mdash;&ldquo;Your
+      deserted and heart-broken sweetheart.&rdquo; All of which were duly spread out
+      on the sideboard, together with one lone bottle to which was attached an
+      envelope.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Before the day was over half the club had called&mdash;Richard acting
+      master of ceremonies&mdash;Kate and old Prim&mdash;(he seemed perfectly
+      contented with the way everything had turned out)&mdash;doing the honors
+      with St. George. Pawson had also put in an appearance and been publicly
+      thanked&mdash;a mark of St. George's confidence and esteem which doubled
+      his practice before the year was out, and Gadgem&mdash;
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      No, Gadgem did not put in an appearance. Gadgem got as far as the hall and
+      looked in, and, seeing all the great people thronging about St. George,
+      would have sneaked out again to await some more favorable occasion had not
+      Harry's sharp eyes discovered the top of his scraggly head over the
+      shoulders of some others, and darted towards him, and when he couldn't be
+      made to budge, had beckoned to St. George, who came on a run and shook
+      Gadgem's hand so heartily and thanked him in so loud a voice&mdash;(everybody
+      in the hall heard him)&mdash;that he could only sputter&mdash;&ldquo;Didn't do a
+      thing, sir&mdash;no, sir&mdash;and if I&mdash;&rdquo; and then, overwhelmed,
+      shot out of the door and down the steps and into Pawson's office where he
+      stood panting, saying to himself&mdash;&ldquo;I'll be tuckered if I ain't
+      happier than I&mdash;yes&mdash;by Jingo, I am. JIMminy-CRIMminy what a man
+      he is!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      And so the day passed and the night came and the neighbors took their
+      leave, and Harry escorted Kate back to Seymours' and the tired knocker
+      gave out and fell asleep, and at last Todd said good-night and stole down
+      to Jemima, and St. George found himself once more in his easy chair, his
+      head in his hand, his eyes fixed on the dead coals of a past fire.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      As the echo of Todd's steps faded away and he began to realize that he was
+      alone, there crept over him for the first time in years the comforting
+      sense that he was once more under his own roof&mdash;his again and all
+      that it covered&mdash;all that he loved; even his beloved dogs. He left
+      his chair and with a quick indrawing of his breath, as if he had just
+      sniffed the air from some open sea, stretched himself to his full height.
+      There he stood looking about him, his shapely fingers patting his chest;
+      his eyes wandering over the room, first with a sweeping glance, and then
+      resting on each separate object as it nodded to him under the glow of the
+      candles.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      He had come into his possessions once more. Not that the very belongings
+      made so much difference as his sense of pride in their ownership. They
+      had, too, in a certain way regained for him his freedom&mdash;freedom to
+      go and come and do as he pleased untrammelled by makeshifts and
+      humiliating exposures and concealments. Best of all, they had given him
+      back his courage, bracing the inner man, strengthening his beliefs in his
+      traditions and in the things that his race and blood stood for.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Then as a flash of lightning reveals from out black darkness the recurrent
+      waves of a troubled sea, there rushed over him the roll and surge of the
+      events which had led up to his rehabilitation. Suddenly a feeling of
+      intense humiliation and profound gratitude swept through him. He raised
+      his arms, covered his face with his hands, and stood swaying; forcing back
+      his tears; muttering to himself: &ldquo;How good they have been&mdash;how good,
+      how good! All mine once more&mdash;wonderful&mdash;wonderful!&rdquo; With a
+      resolute bracing of his shoulders and a brave lift of his chin, he began a
+      tour of the room, stopping before each one of his beloved heirlooms and
+      treasures&mdash;his precious gun that Gadgem had given up&mdash;(the
+      collector coveted it badly as a souvenir, and got it the next day from St.
+      George, with his compliments)&mdash;the famous silver loving cup with an
+      extra polish Kirk had given it; his punch bowl&mdash;scarf rings and
+      knick-knacks and the furniture and hangings of various kinds. At last he
+      reached the sideboard, and bending over reread the several cards affixed
+      to the different donations&mdash;Mrs. Cheston's, Mrs. Horn's, Miss
+      Clendenning's, and the others. His eye now fell on the lone bottle&mdash;this
+      he had not heretofore noticed&mdash;and the note bearing Mr. Kennedy's
+      signature. &ldquo;I send you back, St. George, that last bottle of old Madeira,
+      the Black Warrior of 1810&mdash;the one you gave me and which we were to
+      share together. I hadn't the heart to drink my half without you and so
+      here is the whole and my warmest congratulations on your home-coming and
+      long life to you!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      Picking up the quaint bottle, he passed his hand tenderly over its crusted
+      surface, paused for an instant to examine the cork, and held it closer to
+      the light that he might note its condition. There he stood musing, his
+      mind far away, his fingers caressing its sides. All the aroma of the past;
+      all the splendor of the old regime&mdash;all its good-fellowship,
+      hospitality, and courtesy&mdash;that which his soul loved&mdash;lay
+      imprisoned under his hand. Suddenly one of his old-time quizzical smiles
+      irradiated his face: &ldquo;By Jove!&mdash;just the thing!&rdquo; he cried joyously,
+      &ldquo;it will take the place of the one Talbot didn't open!&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      With a mighty jerk of the bell cord he awoke the echoes below stairs.
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      Todd came on the double quick:
+    </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Yes, Marse George.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      &ldquo;Todd, here's the last bottle of the 1810. Lay it flat on the top shelf
+      with the cork next the wall. We'll open it at Mr. Harry's wedding.&rdquo;
+     </p>
+    <p>
+      [THE END] <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+    <hr />
+    <p>
+      <br /> <br />
+    </p>
+<pre xml:space="preserve">
+
+
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+</html>
diff --git a/4746.txt b/4746.txt
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Kennedy Square, by F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+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: Kennedy Square
+
+Author: F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+Release Date: December, 2003 [Etext #4746]
+Posting Date: January 6, 2010
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KENNEDY SQUARE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Duncan Harrod
+
+
+
+
+
+KENNEDY SQUARE
+
+By F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+
+
+
+Author's Preface:
+
+"Kennedy Square, in the late fifties, was a place of birds and trees and
+flowers; of rude stone benches, sagging arbors smothered in vines, and
+cool dirt paths bordered by sweet-smelling box. Giant magnolias filled
+the air with their fragrance, and climbing roses played hide-and-seek
+among the railings of the rotting fence. Along the shaded walks laughing
+boys and girls romped all day, with hoop and ball, attended by old black
+mammies in white aprons and gayly colored bandannas; while in the more
+secluded corners, sheltered by protecting shrubs, happy lovers sat and
+talked, tired wayfarers rested with hats off, and staid old gentlemen
+read by the hour, their noses in their books.
+
+"Outside of all this color, perfume, and old-time charm; outside the
+grass-line and the rickety wooden fence that framed them in, ran an
+uneven pavement splashed with cool shadows and stained with green mould.
+Here, in summer, the watermelon man stopped his cart; and there, in
+winter, upon its broken bricks, old Moses unhooked his bucket of oysters
+and ceased for a moment his droning call.
+
+"On the shady side of the square, and half hidden in ivy, was a Noah's
+Ark church, topped by a quaint belfry holding a bell that had not rung
+for years, and faced by a clock-dial all weather-stains and cracks,
+around which travelled a single rusty hand. In its shadow to the right
+lay the home of the archdeacon, a stately mansion with Corinthian
+columns reaching to the roof and surrounded by a spacious garden filled
+with damask roses and bushes of sweet syringa. To the left crouched
+a row of dingy houses built of brick, their iron balconies hung in
+flowering vines, the windows glistening with panes of wavy glass purpled
+by age.
+
+"On the sunny side of the square, opposite the church, were more houses,
+high and low: one all garden, filled with broken-nosed statues hiding
+behind still more magnolias; and another all veranda and honeysuckle,
+big rocking-chairs and swinging hammocks; and still others with porticos
+curtained by white jasmine or Virginia creeper."--From "The Fortunes of
+Oliver Horn."
+
+
+
+
+
+KENNEDY SQUARE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+
+On the precise day on which this story opens--some sixty or more years
+ago, to be exact--a bullet-headed, merry-eyed, mahogany-colored young
+darky stood on the top step of an old-fashioned, high-stoop house,
+craning his head up and down and across Kennedy Square in the effort to
+get the first glimpse of his master, St. George Wilmot Temple, attorney
+and counsellor-at-law, who was expected home from a ducking trip down
+the bay.
+
+Whether it was the need of this very diet, or whether St. George had
+felt a sudden longing for the out-of-doors, is a matter of doubt, but
+certain it is that some weeks before the very best shot in the county
+had betaken himself to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, accompanied by
+his guns, his four dogs, and two or three choice men of fashion--young
+bloods of the time--men with whom we shall become better acquainted as
+these chronicles go on--there to search for the toothsome and elusive
+canvas-back for which his State was famous.
+
+That the darky was without a hat and in his shirt-sleeves, and it
+winter--the middle of January, really--the only warm thing about him
+being the green baize apron tied about his waist, his customary livery
+when attending to his morning duties--did not trouble him in the least.
+Marse George might come any minute, and he wanted to be the first to
+welcome him.
+
+For the past few weeks Todd had had the house to himself. Coal-black
+Aunt Jemima, with her knotted pig-tails, capacious bosom, and unconfined
+waist, forty years his senior and ten shades darker in color, it is
+true, looked after the pots and pans, to say nothing of a particular
+spit on which her master's joints and game were roasted; but the upper
+part of the house, which covered the drawing-room, dining-room, bedroom,
+and dressing-room in the rear, as well as the outside of the dwelling,
+including even the green-painted front door and the slant of white
+marble steps that dropped to the brick sidewalk, were the especial
+property of the chocolate-colored darky.
+
+To these duties was added the exclusive care of the master himself--a
+care which gave the boy the keenest delight, and which embraced every
+service from the drawing off of St. George Wilmot Temple's boots to the
+shortening of that gentleman's slightly gray hair; the supervision of
+his linen, clothes, and table, with such side issues as the custody of
+his well-stocked cellar, to say nothing of the compounding of various
+combinations, sweet, sour, and strong, the betrayal of whose secrets
+would have cost the darky his place.
+
+"Place" is the word, for Todd was not St. George's slave, but the
+property of a well-born, if slightly impoverished, gentleman who lived
+on the Eastern Shore, and whose chief source of income was the hiring
+out to his friends and acquaintances of just such likely young darkies
+as Todd--a custom common to the impecunious of those days.
+
+As Mr. Temple, however, did not come under either one of the
+above-mentioned classes--the "slightly impoverished gentleman" never
+having laid eyes on him in his life--the negotiations had to be
+conducted with a certain formality. Todd had therefore, on his arrival,
+unpinned from the inside of his jacket a portentous document signed
+with his owner's name and sealed with a red wafer, which after such
+felicitous phrases as--"I have the distinguished honor," etc.--gave the
+boy's age (21), weight (140 pounds), and height (5 feet 10 inches)--all
+valuable data for identification in case the chattel conceived a notion
+of moving further north (an unnecessary precaution in Todd's case).
+To this was added the further information that the boy had been raised
+under his master's heels, that he therefore knew his pedigree, and that
+his sole and only reason for sparing him from his own immediate service
+was his own poverty and the fact that while under St. George's care the
+boy could learn how "to wait on quality."
+
+As to the house itself--the "Temple Mansion," as it was called--that
+was as much a part of Kennedy Square as the giant magnolias gracing the
+park, or the Noah's Ark church, with its quaint belfry and cracked bell,
+which faced its shady walks. Nobody, of course, remembered how long it
+had been built--that is, nobody then alive--I mean the very date. Such
+authorities as Major Clayton were positive that the bricks had been
+brought from Holland; while Richard Horn, the rising young scientist,
+was sure that all the iron and brass work outside were the product of
+Sheffield; but in what year they had all been put together had always
+been a disputed question.
+
+That, however, which was certain and beyond doubt, was that St. George's
+father, old General Dorsey Temple, had purchased the property near the
+close of the preceding century; that he had, with his characteristic
+vehemence, pushed up the roof, thrust in two dormer windows, and smashed
+out the rear wall, thus enlarging the dining-room and giving increased
+space for a glass-covered porch ending in a broad flight of wooden steps
+descending to a rose-garden surrounded by a high brick wall; that thus
+encouraged he had widened the fireplaces, wainscoted the hall, built a
+new mahogany spider-web staircase leading to his library on the second
+floor, and had otherwise disported himself after the manner of a man
+who, having suddenly fallen heir to a big pot of money, had ever after
+continued oblivious to the fact that the more holes he punched in
+its bottom the less water would spill over its top. The alterations
+complete, balls, routs, and dinners followed to such distinguished
+people as Count Rochambeau, the Marquis de Castellux, Marquis de
+Lafayette, and other high dignitaries, coming-of-age parties for the
+young bloods--quite English in his tastes was the old gentleman--not
+to mention many other extravagances which were still discussed by the
+gossips of the day.
+
+With the general's death--it had occurred some twenty years before--the
+expected had happened. Not only was the pot nearly empty, but the
+various drains which it had sustained had so undermined the family
+rent-roll that an equally disastrous effect had been produced on the
+mansion itself (one of the few pieces of property, by the way, that
+the father had left to his only son and heir unencumbered, with the
+exception of a suit in chancery from which nobody ever expected a
+penny), the only dry spots in St. George's finances being the few ground
+rents remaining from his grandmother's legacy and the little he could
+pick up at the law.
+
+It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that certain changes and
+deteriorations had taken place inside and out of the historic
+building--changes which never in the slightest degree affected the
+even-tempered St. George, who had retained his own private apartments
+regardless of the rest of the house--but changes which, in all justice
+to the irascible old spendthrift, would have lifted that gentleman out
+of his grave could he have realized their effect and extent. What a
+shock, for instance, would the most punctilious man of his time have
+received when he found his front basement rented for a law office, to
+say nothing of a disreputable tin sign nailed to a shutter--where in
+the olden time he and his cronies had toasted their shins before blazing
+logs, the toddies kept hot on the hearth! And what a row would he have
+raised had he known that the rose-garden was entirely neglected and
+given over to the dogs and their kennels; the library in the second
+story stripped of its books and turned into a guest-chamber, and the
+books themselves consigned to the basement; the oak-panelled dining-room
+transformed into a bedchamber for St. George, and the white-and-gold
+drawing-room fronting the street reduced to a mere living-room where his
+son and heir made merry with his friends! And then the shrinkages all
+about! When a room could be dispensed with, it was locked up. When a
+shingle broke loose, it stayed loose; and so did the bricks capping the
+chimneys, and the leaky rain-spouts that spattered the dingy bricks, as
+well as the cracks and crannies that marred the ceilings and walls.
+
+And yet so great was Todd's care over the outside fittings of the
+house--details which were necessarily in evidence, and which determined
+at a glance the quality of the folks inside--that these several
+crumblings, shake-downs, and shrinkages were seldom noticed by the
+passer-by. The old adage that a well-brushed hat, a clean collar,
+polished shoes, and immaculate gloves--all terminal details--make
+the well-dressed man, no matter how shabby or how ill-fitting his
+intermediate apparel, applied, according to Todd's standards, to houses
+as well as Brummels. He it was who soused the windows of purple glass,
+polished the brass knobs, rubbed bright the brass knocker and brass
+balls at the top and bottom of the delightful iron railings, to say
+nothing of the white marble steps, which he attacked with a slab of
+sandstone and cake of fuller's-earth, bringing them to so high a state
+of perfection that one wanted to apologize for stepping on them. Thus
+it was that the weather-beaten rainspouts, stained bricks, sagging roof,
+and blistered window-sashes were no longer in evidence. Indeed, their
+very shabbiness so enhanced the brilliancy of Todd's handiwork that the
+most casual passers-by were convinced at a glance that gentlefolk lived
+within.
+
+
+On this particular morning, then, Todd had spent most of the time since
+daylight--it was now eight o'clock--in the effort to descry his master
+making his way along the street, either afoot or by some conveyance, his
+eyes dancing, his ears alert as a rabbit's, his restless feet marking
+the limit of his eagerness. In his impatience he had practised every
+step known to darkydom in single and double shuffle; had patted juba on
+one and both knees, keeping time with his heels to the rhythm; had slid
+down and climbed up the railings a dozen times, his eyes on the turn in
+the street, and had otherwise conducted himself as would any other boy,
+black or white, who was at his wits' end to know what to do with the
+next second of his time.
+
+Aunt Jemima had listened to the racket until she had lost all patience,
+and at last threw up the basement window:
+
+"Go in an' shet dat do'--'fo' I come up dar an' smack ye--'nough ter
+make a body deef ter hear ye," she called, her black shining face
+dividing the curtains. "How you know he's a-comin'?"
+
+Todd leaned over the railing and peered down: "Mister Harry Rutter done
+tol' me--said dey all 's a-comin'--de jedge an' Doctor Teackle an'
+Marse George an' de hull kit an' bilin'. Dey's been gone mos' two weeks
+now,--dey's a-comin' I tell ye--be yere any minute."
+
+"I b'liebe dat when I sees it. Fool nigger like you b'liebe anything.
+You better go inside 'fo' you catch yo' dea'f. I gin ye fair warnin'
+right now dat I ain't gwineter nuss ye,--d'ye yere?--standin' out dar
+like a tarr-pin wid yo' haid out. Go in I tell ye!" and she shut the
+window with a bang and made her way to the kitchen.
+
+Todd kept up his double shuffle with everything going--hands, feet,
+and knees--thrashed his arms about his chest and back to keep up the
+circulation and with a final grimace in the direction of the old cook
+maintained his watch.
+
+"I spec's it's de fog dat's kep' 'em," he muttered anxiously, his feet
+still in action. "Dat bay boat's mos' allus late,--can't tell when
+she'll git in. Only las' week--Golly!--dar he is--DAT'S HIM!"
+
+A mud-bespattered gig was swinging around the corner into the Square,
+and with a swerve in its course was heading to where Todd stood.
+
+The boy sprang down the steps:
+
+"Yere he is, Aunt Jemima!" he shouted, as if the old cook could have
+heard him through three brick walls.
+
+The gig came to a stand-still and began to unload: first the dogs, who
+had been stowed under their master's feet since they left the steamboat
+wharf, and who with a clear bound to the sidewalk began scouring in mad
+circles, one after another, up and down Todd's immaculate steps, the
+four in full cry until the entire neighborhood was aroused, the late
+sleepers turning over with the remark--"Temple's at home," and the early
+risers sticking their heads out of the windows to count the ducks as
+they were passed out. Next the master: One shapely leg encased in
+an English-made ducking boot, then its mate, until the whole of his
+handsome, well-knit, perfectly healthy and perfectly delightful body was
+clear of the cramped conveyance.
+
+"Hello, Todd!" he burst out, his face aglow with his drive from the
+boat-landing--"glad to see you! Here, take hold of these guns---easy
+now, they won't hurt you; one at a time, you lunkhead! And now pull
+those ducks from under the seat. How's Aunt Jemima?--Oh, is that
+you aunty?" She had come on the run as soon as she heard the dogs.
+"Everything all right, aunty--howdy--" and he shook her hand heartily.
+
+The old woman had made a feint to pull her sleeves down over her plump
+black arms and then, begrudging the delay, had grasped his outstretched
+hand, her face in a broad grin.
+
+"Yes, sah, dat's me. Clar' to goodness, Marse George, I's glad ter
+git ye home. Lawd-a-massy, see dem ducks! Purty fat, ain't dey, sah?
+My!--dat pair's jes' a-bustin'! G'long you fool nigger an' let me hab
+'em! G'way f'om dere I tell ye!"
+
+"No,--you pick them up, Todd--they're too heavy for you, aunty. You go
+back to your kitchen and hurry up breakfast--waffles, remember,--and
+some corn pone and a scallop shell or two--I'm as hungry as a bear."
+
+The whole party were mounting the steps now, St. George carrying the
+guns, Todd loaded down with the game--ten brace of canvas-backs and
+redheads strung together by their bills--the driver of the gig following
+with the master's big ducking overcoat and smaller traps--the four dogs
+crowding up trying to nose past for a dash into the wide hall as soon as
+Todd opened the door.
+
+"Anybody been here lately, Todd?" his master asked, stopping for a
+moment to get a better grip of his heaviest duck gun.
+
+"Ain't nobody been yere partic'ler 'cept Mister Harry Rutter. Dey alls
+knowed you was away. Been yere mos' ev'ry day--come ag'in yisterday."
+
+"Mr. Rutter been here!--Well, what did he want?"
+
+"Dunno, sah,--didn't say. Seemed consid'ble shook up when he foun' you
+warn't to home. I done tol' him you might be back to-day an' den ag'in
+you mightn't--'pended on de way de ducks was flyin'. Spec' he'll be
+roun' ag'in purty soon--seemed ter hab sumpin' on his min'. I'll tu'n de
+knob, sah. Yere--git down, you imp o' darkness,--you Floe!--you Dandy!
+Drat dem dogs!--Yere, YERE!" but all four dogs were inside now, making
+a sweepstakes of the living-room, the rugs and cushions flying in every
+direction.
+
+Although Todd had spent most of the minutes since daylight peering up
+and down the Square, eager for the first sight of the man whom he loved
+with an idolatry only to be found in the negro for a white man whom he
+respects, and who is kind to him, he had not neglected any of his other
+duties. There was a roaring wood fire behind brass andirons and fender.
+There was a breakfast table set for two--St. George's invariable custom.
+"Somebody might drop in, you know, Todd." There was a big easy-chair
+moved up within warming distance of the cheery blaze; there were pipes
+and tobacco within reach of the master's hand; there was the
+weekly newspaper folded neatly on the mantel, and a tray holding an
+old-fashioned squat decanter and the necessary glasses--in fact, all
+the comforts possible and necessary for a man who having at twenty-five
+given up all hope of wedded life, found himself at fifty becoming
+accustomed to its loss.
+
+St. George seized the nearest dog by the collar, cuffed him into
+obedience as an example to the others, ordered the four to the hearth
+rug, ran his eye along the mantel to see what letters had arrived in his
+absence, and disappeared into his bedroom. From thence he emerged
+half an hour later attired in the costume of the day--a jaunty
+brown velveteen jacket, loose red scarf, speckled white
+waistcoat--single-breasted and of his own pattern and cut--dove-gray
+trousers, and white gaiters. No town clothes for St. George as long as
+his measure was in London and his friends were good enough to bring
+him a trunk full every year or two. "Well-cut garments may not make
+a gentleman," he would often say to the youngsters about him, "but
+slip-shod clothes can spoil one."
+
+He had drawn up to the table now, Todd in white jacket hovering about
+him, bringing relays of waffles, hot coffee, and more particularly the
+first of a series of great scallop-shells filled with oysters which he
+had placed on the well-brushed hearth to keep hot while his master was
+dressing.
+
+Fifty he was by the almanac, and by the old family Bible as well, and
+yet he did not look it. Six feet and an inch; straight, ruddy-checked,
+broad-shouldered, well-rounded, but with his waist measure still under
+control; slightly gray at the temples, with clean-shaven face, laughing
+eyes, white teeth, and finely moulded nose, brow, and chin, he was
+everything his friends claimed--the perfect embodiment of all that was
+best in his class and station, and of all that his blood had bequeathed
+him.
+
+And fine old fellows they were if we can believe the historians of the
+seventeenth century: "Wearing the falchion and the rapier, the cloth
+coat lined with plush and embroidered belt, the gold hat-band and the
+feathers, silk stockings and garters, besides signet rings and other
+jewels; wainscoting the walls of their principal rooms in black oak and
+loading their sideboards with a deal of rich and massive silver plate
+upon which was carved the arms of their ancestors;--drinking, too,
+strong punch and sack from 'silver sack-cups'--(sack being their
+favorite)--and feasting upon oysters and the most delicious of all the
+ducks of the world."
+
+And in none of their other distinguishing qualities was their descendant
+lacking. In the very lift of his head and brace of his shoulders; in the
+grace and ease with which he crossed the room, one could see at a glance
+something of the dash and often the repose of the cavalier from whom
+he had sprung. And the sympathy, kindness, and courtesy of the man
+that showed in every glance of his eye and every movement of his
+body--despite his occasional explosive temper--a sympathy that drifted
+in to an ungovernable impulse to divide everything he owned into two
+parts, and his own half into two once more if the other fellow needed
+it; a kindness that made every man his friend, and a courtesy which,
+even in a time when men lifted their hats to men, as well as to women,
+had gained for him, the town over, the soubriquet of "Gentleman George";
+while to every young girl and youth under twenty he was just "dear Uncle
+George"--the one man in all Kennedy Square who held their secrets.
+
+
+But to our breakfast once more. All four dogs were on their feet now,
+their tails wagging expectantly, their noses at each of his knees, where
+they were regaled at regular intervals with choice bits from his plate,
+the snapping of their solemn jaws expressing their thanks. A second
+scallop-shell was next lifted from the hearth with the tongs, and
+deposited sizzling hot on a plate beside the master, the aroma of the
+oysters filling the room. These having disappeared, as had the former
+one, together with the waffles and coffee, and the master's appetite
+being now on the wane, general conversation became possible.
+
+"Did Mr. Rutter look ill, Todd?" he continued, picking up the thread of
+the talk where he had left it. "He wasn't very well when I left."
+
+"No, sah,--neber see him look better. Been up a li'l' late I
+reckon,--Marse Harry mos' gen'ally is a li'l' mite late, sah--" Todd
+chuckled. "But dat ain't nuthin' to dese gemmans. But he sho' do wanter
+see ye. Maybe he stayed all night at Mister Seymour's. If he did an' he
+yered de rumpus dese rapscallions kicked up--yes--dat's you I'm talkin'
+to"--and he looked toward the dogs--"he'll be roun' yere 'fo' ye gits
+fru yo' bre'kfus'. Dey do say as how Marse Harry's mighty sweet in dat
+quarter. Mister Langdon Willits's snoopin' roun' too, but Miss Kate
+ain't got no use fer him. He ain't quality dey say."
+
+His master let him run on; Aunt Jemima was Todd's only outlet during
+his master's absence, and as this was sometimes clogged by an uplifted
+broom, he made the best use he could of the opportunities when he
+and his master were alone. When "comp'ny" were present he was as
+close-mouthed as a clam and as noiseless as a crab.
+
+"Who told you all this gossip, Todd?" exclaimed St. George with a smile,
+laying down his knife and fork.
+
+"Ain't nary one tol' me--ain't no use bein' tol'. All ye got to do is
+to keep yo' eyes open. Be a weddin' dar 'fo' spring. Look out, sah--dat
+shell's still a-sizzlin'. Mo' coffee, sah? Wait till I gits some hot
+waffles--won't take a minute!" and he was out of the room and downstairs
+before his master could answer.
+
+Hardly had he slammed the kitchen door behind him when the clatter and
+stamp of a horse's hoofs were heard Outside, followed by an impatient
+rat-a-tat-tat on the knocker.
+
+The boy dropped his dishes: "Fo' Gawd, dat's Mister Harry!" he cried as
+he started on a run for the door. "Don't nobody bang de do' down like
+dat but him."
+
+A slender, thoroughly graceful young fellow of twenty-one or two, booted
+and spurred, his dark eyes flashing, his face tingling with the sting of
+the early morning air, dashed past the obsequious darky and burst into
+Temple's presence with the rush of a north-west breeze. He had ridden
+ten miles since he vaulted into the saddle, had never drawn rein uphill
+or down, and neither he nor the thoroughbred pawing the mud outside had
+turned a hair.
+
+"Hello, Uncle George!" Temple, as has been said, was Uncle George to
+every girl and youth in Kennedy Square.
+
+"Why, Harry!" He had sprung from his seat, napkin in hand and had him
+by both shoulders, looking into his eyes as if he wanted to hug him, and
+would the first thing he knew. "Where are you from--Moorlands? What a
+rollicking chap you are, and you look so well and handsome, you dog!
+And now tell me of your dear mother and your father. But first down
+with you--here--right opposite--always your place, my dear Harry. Todd,
+another shell of oysters and more waffles and coffee--everything, Todd,
+and blazing hot: two shells, Todd--the sight of you, Harry, makes me
+ravenous again, and I could have eaten my boots, when I got home an hour
+ago, I was so hungry. But the mare"--here he moved to the window--"is
+she all right? Spitfire, I suppose--you'd kill anything else, you
+rascal! But you haven't tied her!"
+
+"No--never tie her--break her heart if I did. Todd, hang up this coat
+and hat in the hall before you go."
+
+"That's what you said of that horse you bought of Hampson--ran away,
+didn't he?" persisted his host, his eyes on the mare, which had now
+become quiet.
+
+"Yes, and broke his leg. But Spitfire's all right--she'll stand. Where
+will I sit--here? And now what kind of a time did you have, and who were
+with you?"
+
+"Clayton, Doctor Teackle, and the judge."
+
+"And how many ducks did you get?" and he dropped into his chair.
+
+"Twenty-one," answered St. George, dry-washing his white shapely hands,
+as he took his seat--a habit of his when greatly pleased.
+
+"All canvas-backs?"
+
+"No--five redheads and a mallard."
+
+"Where did you put up?" echoed Harry, loosening his riding-jacket to
+give his knife and fork freer play.
+
+"I spent a week at Tom Coston's and a week at Craddock. Another lump of
+sugar, Todd."
+
+The boy laughed gently: "Lazy Tom's?"
+
+"Lazy Tom's--and the best-hearted fellow in the world. They're going to
+make him a judge, they say and--"
+
+"--What of--peach brandy? No cream in mine, Todd."
+
+"No--you scurrilous dog--of the Common Court," retorted St. George,
+looking at him over the top of his cup. "Very good lawyer is Tom--got
+horse sense and can speak the truth--make a very good judge."
+
+Again Harry laughed--rather a forced laugh this time, as if he were
+trying to make himself agreeable but with so anxious a ring through it
+that Todd busied himself about the table before going below for fresh
+supplies, making excuse of collecting the used dishes. If there were to
+be any revelations concerning the situation at the Seymour house, he did
+not intend to miss any part of them.
+
+"Better put Mrs. Coston on the bench and set Tom to rocking the cradle,"
+said the young man, reaching for the plate of corn pone. "She's a
+thoroughbred if ever I saw one, and does credit to her blood. But go
+on--tell me about the birds. Are they flying high?--and the duck blinds;
+have they fixed them up? They were all going to pot when I was there
+last."
+
+"Birds out of range, most of them--hard work getting what I did. As to
+the blinds, they are still half full of water--got soaking wet trying to
+use one. I shot most of mine from the boat just as the day broke," and
+then followed a full account of what the party had bagged, with details
+of every day's adventures. This done, St. George pushed back his chair
+and faced the young man.
+
+"And now you take the witness-stand, sir--look me in the eyes, put your
+hand on your fob-pocket and tell me the truth. Todd says you have
+been here every day for a week looking as if you had lost your last
+fip-penny-bit and wild to see me. What has happened?"
+
+"Todd has a vivid imagination." He turned in his seat, stretched out
+his hand, and catching one of the dogs by the nose rubbed his head
+vigorously.
+
+"Go on--all of it--no dodging the king's counsellor. What's the matter?"
+
+The young man glanced furtively at Todd, grabbed another dog, rubbed
+their two ears together in play, and in a lowered voice, through which a
+tinge of sadness was only too apparent, murmured:
+
+"Miss Kate--we've had a falling out."
+
+St. George lowered his head suddenly and gave a low whistle:--"Falling
+out?--what about?"
+
+Again young Rutter glanced at Todd, whose back was turned, but whose
+ears were stretched to splitting point. His host nodded understandingly.
+
+"There, Todd--that will do; now go down and get your breakfast. No
+more waffles, tell Aunt Jemima. Bring the pipes over here and throw on
+another log... that's right." A great sputtering of sparks followed--a
+spider-legged, mahogany table was wheeled into place, and the dejected
+darky left the room for the regions below.
+
+"So you two have had a quarrel! Oh, Harry!--when will you learn to think
+twice before you speak? Whose fault was it?" sighed St. George, filling
+the bowl of his pipe with his slender fingers, slowly tucking in each
+shred and grain.
+
+"Mine."
+
+"What did you say?" (Puff-puff.)
+
+"Nothing--I couldn't. She came in and saw it all." The boy had his
+elbows on the table now, his cheeks sunk in his hands.
+
+St. George looked up: "Drunk, were you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At Mrs. Cheston's ball last week."
+
+"Have you seen her since?"
+
+"No--she won't let me come near her. Mr. Seymour passed me yesterday and
+hardly spoke to me."
+
+St. George canted his chair and zigzagged it toward the blazing hearth;
+then he said thoughtfully, without looking at the young man:
+
+"Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish! Have you told your father?"
+
+"No--he wouldn't understand."
+
+"And I know you didn't tell your mother." This came with the tone of
+positive conviction.
+
+"No--and don't you. Mother is daft on the subject. If she had her way,
+father would never put a drop of wine on the table. She says it is
+ruining the county--but that's mother's way."
+
+St. George stooped over, fondled one of the dogs for a moment--two had
+followed Todd out of the room--settled back in his chair again, and
+still looking into the fire, said slowly:
+
+"Bad business--bad business, Harry! Kate is as proud as Lucifer and
+dislikes nothing on earth so much as being made conspicuous. Tell me
+exactly what happened."
+
+"Well, there isn't anything to tell," replied the young fellow, raising
+his head and leaning back in his chair, his face the picture of despair.
+"We were all in the library and the place was boiling-hot, and they had
+two big bowls, one full of eggnog and the other full of apple-toddy: and
+the next thing I knew I was out in the hall and met Kate on the stairs.
+She gave a little smothered scream, and moaned--'Oh, Harry!--and you
+promised me!'--and then she put her hands to her face, as if to shut me
+out of her sight. That sobered me somewhat, and after I got out on the
+porch into the night air and had pulled myself together, I tried to find
+her and apologize, but she had gone home, although the ball wasn't half
+over.
+
+"Then this was not the first time?" He was still at the hot coals, both
+hands outfanned, to screen his face from the blaze.
+
+"No--I'm sorry to say it wasn't. I told her I would never fail her
+again, and she forgave me, but I don't know what she'll do now. She
+never forgives anybody who breaks his word--she's very queer about
+it. That's what I came to see you about. I haven't slept much nights,
+thinking it over, and so I had the mare saddled, as soon as it got
+light, hoping you would be home. Todd thought you might be--he saw Dr.
+Teackle's Joe, who said you were all coming to-day."
+
+Again there was a long pause, during which Temple continued to study the
+coals through his open fingers, the young man sitting hunched up in
+his chair, his handsome head dropped between his shoulders, his glossy
+chestnut hair, a-frouze with his morning ride, fringing his collar
+behind.
+
+"Harry," said St. George, knocking the ashes slowly from his pipe on
+the edge of the fender, and turning his face for the first time toward
+him,--"didn't I hear something before I went away about a ball at your
+father's--or a dance--or something, when your engagement was to be
+announced?"
+
+The boy nodded.
+
+"And was it not to be something out of the ordinary?" he continued,
+looking at the boy from under his eyelids--"Teackle certainly told me
+so--said that your mother had already begun to get the house in order--"
+
+Again Harry nodded--as if he had been listening to an indictment, every
+word of which he knew was true.
+
+St. George roused himself and faced his guest: "And yet you took this
+time, Harry, to--"
+
+The boy threw up both hands in protest:
+
+"Don't!--DON'T! Uncle George! It's the ball that makes it all the worse.
+That's why I've got no time to lose; that's why I've haunted this place
+waiting for you to get back. Mother will be heart-broken if she finds
+out and I don't know what father would do."
+
+St. George laid his empty pipe on the table and straightened his body
+in the chair until his broad shoulders filled the back. Then his brow
+darkened; his indignation was getting the better of him.
+
+"I don't know what has come over you young fellows, Harry!" he at last
+broke out, his eyes searching the boy's. "You don't seem to know how
+to live. You've got to pull a shoat out of a trough to keep it from
+overeating itself, but you shouldn't be obliged to pull a gentleman away
+from his glass. Good wine is good food and should be treated as such. My
+cellar is stocked with old Madeira--some port--some fine sherries--so
+is your father's. Have you ever seen him abuse them?--have you ever
+seen Mr. Horn or Mr. Kennedy, or any of our gentlemen around here, abuse
+them? It's scandalous, Harry! damnable! I love you, my son--love you
+in a way you know nothing of, but you've got to stop this sort of thing
+right off. And so have these young roysterers you associate with. It's
+getting worse every day. I don't wonder your dear mother feels about it
+as she does. But she's always been that way, and she's always been right
+about it, too, although I didn't use to think so." This last came with
+a lowered voice and a deep, indrawn sigh, and for the moment checked the
+flow of his wrath.
+
+Harry hung his head still lower, but he did not attempt to defend
+himself.
+
+"Who else were making vulgarians of themselves at Mrs. Cheston's?" St.
+George continued in a calmer tone, stretching his shapely legs until the
+soles of his shoes touched the fender.
+
+"Mark Gilbert, Tom Murdoch, Langdon Willits, and--"
+
+"Willits, eh?--Well, I should expect it of Willits. He wasn't born a
+gentleman--that is, his grandfather wasn't a gentleman--married his
+overseer's daughter, if I remember right:--but you come of the
+best blood in the State,--egad!--none better! You have something to
+maintain--some standard to keep up. A Rutter should never be found
+guilty of anything that would degrade his name. You seem to forget
+that--you--damn me, Harry!--when I think of it all--and of Kate--my
+sweet, lovely Kate,--and how you have made her suffer--for she loves
+you--no question of that--I feel like wringing your neck! What the devil
+do you mean, Sir?" He was up on his feet now, pacing the room, the dogs
+following his every movement with their brown agate eyes, their soft,
+silky ears straightening and falling.
+
+So far the young fellow had not moved nor had he offered a word in
+defence. He knew his Uncle George--better let him blow it all out, then
+the two could come together. At last he said in a contrite tone--his
+hands upraised:
+
+"Don't scold me, Uncle George. I've scolded myself enough--just say
+something to help me. I can't give Kate up--I'd sooner die. I've always
+made a fool of myself--maybe I'll quit doing it after this. Tell me how
+I can straighten this out. She won't see me--maybe her father won't.
+He and my father--so Tom Warfield told me yesterday--had a talk at the
+club. What they said I don't know, but Mr. Seymour was pretty mad--that
+is, for him--so Tom thought from the way he spoke."
+
+"And he ought to be mad--raging mad! He's only got one daughter, and she
+the proudest and loveliest thing on earth, and that one he intends to
+give to you"--Harry looked up in surprise--"Yes--he told me so. And here
+you are breaking her heart before he has announced it to the world. It's
+worse than damnable, Harry--it's a CRIME!"
+
+For some minutes he continued his walk, stopping to look out of the
+window, his eyes on the mare who, with head up and restless eyes, was on
+the watch for her master's return; then he picked up his pipe from the
+table, threw himself into his chair again, and broke into one of his
+ringing laughs.
+
+"I reckon it's because you're twenty, Harry, I forgot that. Hot
+blood--hot temper,--madcap dare-devil that you are--not a grain of
+common-sense. But what can you expect?--I was just like you at your age.
+Come, now, what shall we do first?"
+
+The young fellow rose and a smile of intense relief crept over his face.
+He had had many such overhaulings from his uncle, and always with this
+ending. Whenever St. George let out one of those big, spontaneous,
+bubbling laughs straight from his heart, the trouble, no matter how
+serious, was over. What some men gained by anger and invective St.
+George gained by good humor, ranging from the faint smile of toleration
+to the roar of merriment. One reason why he had so few enemies--none,
+practically--was that he could invariably disarm an adversary with a
+laugh. It was a fine old blade that he wielded; only a few times in his
+life had he been called upon to use any other--when some under-dog was
+maltreated, or his own good name or that of a friend was traduced, or
+some wrong had to be righted--then his face would become as hot steel
+and there would belch out a flame of denunciation that would scorch
+and blind in its intensity. None of these fiercer moods did the boy
+know;--what he knew was his uncle's merry side--his sympathetic, loving
+side,--and so, following up his advantage, he strode across the room,
+settled down on the arm of his uncle's chair, and put his arm about his
+shoulders.
+
+"Won't you go and see her, please?" he pleaded, patting his back,
+affectionately.
+
+"What good will that do? Hand me a match, Harry."
+
+"Everything--that's what I came for."
+
+"Not with Kate! She isn't a child--she's a woman," he echoed back
+between the puffs, his indignation again on the rise. "And she is
+different from the girls about here," he added, tossing the burned match
+in the fire. "When she once makes up her mind it stays made up."
+
+"Don't let her make it up! Go and see her and tell her how I love her
+and how miserable I am. Tell her I'll never break another promise to
+her as long as I live. Nobody ever holds out against you. Please, Uncle
+George! I'll never come to you for anything else in the world if you'll
+help me this time. And I won't drink another drop of anything you don't
+want me to drink--I don't care what father or anybody else says. Oh,
+you've GOT to go to her!--I can't stand it any longer! Every time I
+think of Kate hidden away over there where I can't get at her, it drives
+me wild. I wouldn't ask you to go if I could go myself and talk it out
+with her--but she won't let me near her--I've tried, and tried; and Ben
+says she isn't at home, and knows he lies when he says it! You will go,
+won't you?"
+
+The smoke from his uncle's pipe was coming freer now--most of it
+escaping up the throat of the chimney with a gentle swoop.
+
+"When do you want me to go?" He had already surrendered. When had he
+ever held out when a love affair was to be patched up?
+
+"Now, right away."
+
+"No,--I'll go to-night,--she will be at home then," he said at last,
+as if he had just made up his mind, the pipe having helped--"and do
+you come in about nine and--let me know when you are there, or--better
+still, wait in the hall until I come for you."
+
+"But couldn't I steal in while you are talking?"
+
+"No--you do just as I tell you. Not a sound out of you, remember, until
+I call you."
+
+"But how am I to know? She might go out the other door and--"
+
+"You'll know when I come for you."
+
+"And you think it will be all right, don't you?" he pleaded. "You'll
+tell her what an awful time I've had, won't you, Uncle George?"
+
+"Yes, every word of it."
+
+"And that I haven't slept a wink since--"
+
+"Yes--and that you are going to drown yourself and blow your head off
+and swallow poison. Now off with you and let me think how I am to begin
+straightening out this idiotic mess. Nine o'clock, remember, and in the
+hall until I come for you."
+
+"Yes--nine o'clock! Oh!--you good Uncle George! I'll never forget you
+for it," and with a grasp of St. George's hand and another outpouring
+of gratitude, the young fellow swung wide the door, clattered down the
+steps, threw his leg over Spitfire, and dashed up the street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+
+If Kate's ancestors had wasted any part of their substance in too lavish
+a hospitality, after the manner of the spendthrift whose extravagances
+were recounted in the preceding chapter, there was nothing to indicate
+it in the home of their descendants. No loose shutters, crumbling
+chimneys, or blistered woodwork defaced the Seymour mansion:--the touch
+of the restorer was too apparent. No sooner did a shutter sag or a hinge
+give way than away it went to the carpenter or the blacksmith; no sooner
+did a banister wabble, or a table crack, or an andiron lose a leg, than
+up came somebody with a kit, or a bag, or a box of tools, and they were
+as good as new before you could wink your eye. Indeed, so great was the
+desire to keep things up that it was only necessary (so a wag said) to
+scratch a match on old Seymour's front door to have its panels repainted
+the next morning.
+
+And then its seclusion:--while its neighbors--the Temple mansion among
+them--had been placed boldly out to the full building line where they
+could see and be seen, the Seymours, with that spirit of aloofness which
+had marked the family for generations, had set their dwelling back ten
+paces, thrown up a hedge of sweet-smelling box to screen the inmates
+from the gaze of passers-by, planted three or four big trees as
+protection for the upper windows, and, to insure still greater privacy,
+had put up a swinging wooden gate, kept shut by a ball and chain, its
+clang announcing the entrance of each and every visitor.
+
+And this same spirit was manifest the moment you stepped into the wide
+hall, glanced at the old family portraits marching steadily, one after
+another, up the side of the spacious stairs (revarnished every other
+year)--entered the great drawing-room hung with yellow satin
+and decorated with quaint mirrors, and took a scat in one of the
+all-embracing arm-chairs, there to await the arrival of either the
+master of the house or his charming daughter.
+
+If it were the master to whom you wished to pay your respects, one
+glance at the Honorable Howard Douglass Seymour would have convinced you
+that he was precisely the kind of man who should have had charge of
+so well-ordered a home: so well brushed was he--so clean-shaven--so
+immaculately upholstered--the two points of his collar pinching his
+cheeks at the same precise angle; his faultless black stock fitting to
+perfection, the lapels of his high-rolled coat matching exactly. And
+then the correct parting of the thin gray hair and the two little gray
+brush-tails of lovelocks that were combed in front of his ears, there
+to become a part of the two little dabs of gray whiskers that stretched
+from his temples to his bleached cheekbones. Yes--a most carefully
+preserved, prim, and well-ordered person was Kate's father.
+
+As to the great man's career, apart from his service in the legislature,
+which won him his title, there was no other act of his life which
+marked him apart from his fellows. Suffice it to say that he was born
+a gentleman without a penny to his name; that he married Kate's mother
+when she was twenty and he forty (and here is another story, and a sad
+one)--she the belle of her time--and sole heir to the estate of her
+grandfather, Captain Hugh Barkeley, the rich ship-owner--and that the
+alliance had made him a gentleman of unlimited leisure, she, at her
+death, having left all her property to her daughter Kate, with the
+Honorable Prim as custodian.
+
+And this trust, to his credit be it said--for Seymour was of Scotch
+descent, a point in his favor with old Captain Barkeley, who was
+Scotch on his mother's side, and, therefore, somewhat canny--was most
+religiously kept, he living within his ample means--or Kate's, which was
+the same thing--discharging the duties of father, citizen, and friend,
+with the regularity of a clock--so many hours with his daughter, so many
+hours at his club, so many hours at his office; the intermediate minutes
+being given over to resting, dressing, breakfasting, dining, sleeping,
+and no doubt praying; the precise moment that marked the beginning and
+ending of each task having been fixed years in advance by this most
+exemplary, highly respectable, and utterly colorless old gentleman of
+sixty.
+
+That this dry shell of a man could be the father of our spontaneous
+lovely Kate was one of the things that none of the younger people around
+Kennedy Square could understand--but then few of them had known her
+beautiful mother with her proud step and flashing eyes.
+
+But it is not the punctilious, methodical Prim whom St. George wishes to
+see to-night; nor does he go through any of the formalities customary
+to the house. There is no waiting until old Ben, the family butler in
+snuff-colored coat and silver buttons, shuffles upstairs or into the
+library, or wherever the inmates were to be found, there to announce
+"Massa George Temple." Nor did he send in his card, or wait until his
+knock was answered. He simply swung back the gate until the old chain
+and ball, shocked at his familiarity, rattled itself into a rage, strode
+past the neatly trimmed, fragrant box, pushed open the door--no front
+door was ever locked in the daytime in Kennedy Square, and few at
+night--and halting at the bottom step, called up the silent stairs in a
+voice that was a joyous greeting in itself:
+
+"Kate, you darling! come down as quick as your dear little feet will
+carry you! It's Uncle George, do you hear?--or shall I come up and bring
+you down in my arms, you bunch of roses? It won't be the first time."
+The first time was when she was a year old.
+
+"Oh!--is that you, Uncle George? Yes,--just as soon as I do up my back
+hair." The voice came from the top of the stairs--a lark's voice singing
+down from high up. "Father's out and--"
+
+"Yes--I know he's out; I met him on his way to the club. Hurry now--I've
+got the best news in the world for you."
+
+"Yes--in a minute."
+
+He knew her minutes, and how long they could be, and in his impatience
+roamed about the wide hall examining the old English engravings and
+colored prints decorating the panels until he heard her step overhead
+and looking up watched her cross the upper hall, her well-poised,
+aristocratic head high in air, her full, well-rounded, blossoming body
+imaged in the loose embroidered scarf wound about her sloping shoulders.
+Soon he caught the wealth of her blue-black hair in whose folds her
+negro mammy had pinned a rose that matched the brilliancy of her cheeks,
+two stray curls wandering over her neck; her broad forehead, with
+clearly marked eyebrows, arching black lashes shading lustrous,
+slumbering eyes; and as she drew nearer, her warm red lips, exquisite
+teeth, and delicate chin, and last, the little feet that played hide and
+seek beneath her quilted petticoat: a tall, dark, full-blooded, handsome
+girl of eighteen with an air of command and distinction tempered by a
+certain sweet dignity and delicious coquetry--a woman to be loved even
+when she ruled and to be reverenced even when she trifled.
+
+She had reached the floor now, and the two arm in arm, he patting her
+hand, she laughing beside him, had entered the small library followed by
+the old butler bringing another big candelabra newly lighted.
+
+"It's so good of you to come," she cried, her face alight with the joy
+of seeing him--"and you look so happy and well--your trip down the bay
+has done you a world of good. Ben says the ducks you sent father are the
+best we have had this winter. Now tell me, dear Uncle George"--she had
+him in one of the deep arm-chairs by this time, with a cushion behind
+his shoulders--"I am dying to hear all about it."
+
+"Don't you 'dear Uncle George' me until you've heard what I've got to
+say."
+
+"But you said you had the best news in the world for me," she laughed,
+looking at him from under her lashes.
+
+"So I have."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Harry."
+
+The girl's face clouded and her lips quivered. Then she sat bolt
+upright.
+
+"I won't hear a word about him. He's broken his promise to me and I will
+never trust him again. If I thought you'd come to talk about Harry, I
+wouldn't have come down."
+
+St. George lay back in his chair, shrugged his shoulders, stole a
+look at her from beneath his bushy eyebrows, and said with an assumed
+dignity, a smile playing about his lips:
+
+"All right, off goes his head--exit the scoundrel. Much as I could do
+to keep him out of Jones Falls this morning, but of course now it's
+all over we can let Spitfire break his neck. That's the way a gentleman
+should die of love--and not be fished out of a dirty stream with his
+clothes all bespattered with mud."
+
+"But he won't die for love. He doesn't know what love means or he
+wouldn't behave as he does. Do you know what really happened, Uncle
+George?" Her brown eyes were flashing, her cheeks aflame with her
+indignation.
+
+"Oh, I know exactly what happened. Harry told me with the tears running
+down his cheeks. It was dreadful--INEXCUSABLE--BARBAROUS! I've been that
+way myself--tumbled half-way down these same stairs before you were born
+and had to be put to bed, which accounts for the miserable scapegrace I
+am to-day." His face was in a broad smile, but his voice never wavered.
+
+Kate looked at him and put out her hand. "You never did--I won't believe
+a word of it."
+
+"Ask your father, my dear. He helped carry me upstairs, and Ben pulled
+off my boots. Oh, it was most disgraceful! I'm just beginning to live it
+down," and he reached over and patted the girl's cheek, his hearty laugh
+ringing through the room.
+
+Kate was smiling now--her Uncle George was always irresistible when he
+was like this.
+
+"But Harry isn't you," she pouted.
+
+"ISN'T ME!--why I was ten times worse! He's only twenty-one and I was
+twenty-five. He's got four years the better of me in which to reform."
+
+"He'll NEVER be like you--you never broke a promise in your life. He
+gave me his word of honor he would never get--yes--I'm just going to
+say it--drunk--again: yes--that's the very word--DRUNK! I don't care--I
+won't have it! I won't have anything to do with anybody who breaks his
+promise, and who can't keep sober. My father was never so in his life,
+and Harry shall never come near me again if he--"
+
+"Hold on!--HOLD ON! Oh, what an unforgiving minx! You Seymours are all
+like tinder boxes--your mother was just like you and so was--"
+
+"Well, not father," she bridled, with a toss of her head.
+
+St. George smiled queerly--Prim was one of his jokes. "Your father, my
+dear Kate, has the milk of human kindness in his veins, not red fighting
+blood. That makes a whole lot of difference. Now listen to me:--you love
+Harry--"
+
+"No! I DESPISE him! I told him so!" She had risen from her seat and had
+moved to the mantel, where she stood looking into the fire, her back
+toward him.
+
+"Don't you interrupt me, you blessed girl--just you listen to Uncle
+George for a minute. You DO love Harry--you can't help it--nobody can.
+If you had seen him this morning you would have thrown your arms around
+him in a minute--I came near doing it myself. Of course he's wild,
+reckless, and hot-headed like all the Rutters and does no end of foolish
+things, but you wouldn't love him if he was different. He's just like
+Spitfire--never keeps still a minute--restless, pawing the ground, or
+all four feet in the air--then away she goes! You can't reason with
+her--you don't wish to; you get impatient when she chafes at the bit
+because you are determined she shall keep still, but if you wanted her
+to go like the wind and she couldn't, you'd be more dissatisfied than
+ever. The pawing and chafing is of no matter; it is her temperament
+that counts. So it is with Harry. He wouldn't be the lovable, dashing,
+high-spirited young fellow he is if he didn't kick over the traces once
+in a while and break everything to pieces--his promises among them. And
+it isn't his fault--it's the Spanish and Dutch blood in his veins--the
+blood of that old hidalgo and his Dutch ancestor, De Ruyter--that crops
+out once in a while. Harry would be a pirate and sweep the Spanish main
+if he had lived in those days, instead of being a gentleman who values
+nothing in life so much as the woman he loves."
+
+He had been speaking to her back all this time, the girl never moving,
+the outlines of her graceful body in silhouette against the blaze.
+
+"Then why doesn't he prove it?" she sighed. She liked old hidalgos and
+had no aversion to pirates if they were manly and brave about their
+work.
+
+"He does--and he lives up to his standard except in this one failing
+for which I am truly sorry. Abominable I grant you--but there are many
+things which are worse."
+
+"I can't think of anything worse," she echoed with a deep sigh, walking
+slowly toward him and regaining her chair, all her anger gone, only the
+pain in her heart left. "I don't want Harry to be like the others, and
+he can't live their lives if he's going to be my husband. I want him
+to be different,--to be big and fine and strong,--like the men who have
+made the world better for their having lived in it--that old De Ruyter,
+for instance, that his father is always bragging about--not a weak,
+foolish boy whom everybody can turn around their fingers. Some of my
+girl friends don't mind what the young men do, or how often they break
+their word to them so that they are sure of their love. I do, and I
+won't have it, and I have told Harry so over and over again. It's such
+a cowardly thing--not to be man enough to stand up and say 'No--I won't
+drink with you!' That's why I say I can't think of his doing anything
+worse."
+
+St. George fixed his eyes upon her. He had thought he knew the girl's
+heart, but this was a revelation to him. Perhaps her sorrow, like that
+of her mother, was making a well-rounded woman of her.
+
+"Oh, I can think of a dozen things worse," he rejoined with some
+positiveness. "Harry might lie; Harry might be a coward; Harry might
+stand by and hear a friend defamed; Harry might be discourteous to a
+woman, or allow another man to be--a thing he'd rather die than permit.
+None of these things could he be or do. I'd shut my door in his face if
+he did any one of them, and so should you. And then he is so penitent
+when he has done anything wrong. 'It was my fault--I would rather hang
+myself than lose Kate. I haven't slept a wink, Uncle George.' And he was
+so handsome when he came in this morning--his big black eyes flashing,
+his cheeks like two roses--so straight and strong, and so graceful and
+wholesome and lovable. I wouldn't care, if I were you, if he did slip
+once in a while--not any more than I would if Spitfire stumbled. And
+then again"--here he moved his chair close to her own so he could get
+his hand on hers the easier--"if Spitfire does stumble, there is the
+bridle to pull her up, but for this she might break her neck. That's
+where you come in, Kate. Harry's in your hands--has been since the hour
+he loved you. Don't let him go headlong to the devil--and he will if you
+turn him loose without a bridle."
+
+"I can't do him any good--he won't mind anything I say. And what
+dependence can I place on him after this?" her voice sank to a tone
+of helpless tenderness. "It isn't his being drunk altogether; he will
+outgrow that, perhaps, as you say you did, and be man enough to say no
+next time; but it's because he broke his promise to me. That he will
+never outgrow! Oh, it's wicked!--wicked for him to treat me so. I have
+never done anything he didn't want me to do! and he has no right to--Oh,
+Uncle George, it's--"
+
+St. George leaned nearer and covered her limp fingers with his own
+tender grasp.
+
+"Try him once more, Kate. Let me send him to you. It will be all over
+in a minute and you will be so happy--both of you! Nothing like making
+up--it really pays for the pain of a quarrel."
+
+The outside door shut gently and there was a slight movement in the hall
+behind them, but neither of them noticed it. Kate sat with her head up,
+her mind at work, her eyes watching the firelight. It was her future she
+was looking into. She had positive, fixed ideas of what her station in
+life as a married woman should be;--not what her own or Harry's birth
+and position could bring her. With that will-o'-the-wisp she had no
+sympathy. Her grandfather in his early days had been a plain, seafaring
+man even if his ancestry did go back to the time of James I, and her
+mother had been a lady, and that too without the admixture of a single
+drop of the blood of any Kennedy Square aristocrat. That Harry was
+well born and well bred was as it should be, but there was something
+more;--the man himself. That was why she hesitated. Yes--it WOULD "all
+be over in a minute," just as Uncle George said, but when would the
+next break come? And then again there was her mother's life with all the
+misery that a broken promise had caused her. Uncle George was not the
+only young gallant who had been put to bed in her grandfather's house.
+Her mother had loved too--just as much as she loved Harry--loved with
+her whole soul--until grandpa Barkeley put his foot down.
+
+St. George waited in silence as he read her mind. Breaches between
+most of the boys and girls were easily patched up--a hearty cry, an
+outstretched hand--"I am so sorry," and they were in each other's arms.
+Not so with Kate. Her reason, as well as her heart, had to be satisfied.
+This was one of the things that made her different from all the other
+girls about her, and this too was what had given her first place in
+the affections and respect of all who knew her. Her heart he saw was
+uppermost to-night, but reason still lurked in the background.
+
+"What do you think made him do it again?" she murmured at last in a
+voice barely audible, her fingers tightening in his palm. "He knows how
+I suffer and he knows too WHY I suffer. Oh, Uncle George!--won't you
+please talk to him! I love him so, and I can't marry him if he's like
+this. I can't!--_I_ CAN'T!"
+
+A restrained smile played over St. George's face. The tide was setting
+his way.
+
+"It won't do a bit of good," he said calmly, smothering his joy. "I've
+talked to him until I'm tired, and the longer I talk the more wild he
+is to see you. Now it's your turn and there's no time to lose. I'll have
+him here in five minutes," and he glanced at the clock. She raised her
+hand in alarm:
+
+"I don't want him yet. You must see him first--you must--"
+
+"No, I won't see him first, and I'm not going to wait a minute. Talk to
+him yourself; put your arms around him and tell him everything you have
+told me--now--to-night. I'm going for him," and he sprang to his feet.
+
+"No!--you must not! You SHALL not!" she cried, clutching nervously at
+his arm, but he was out of the room before she could stop him.
+
+In the silent hall, hat in hand, his whole body tense with expectancy,
+stood Harry. He had killed time by walking up and down the long strip of
+carpet between the front door and the staircase, measuring his nervous
+steps to the length of the pattern, his mind distracted by his fears
+for the outcome--his heart thumping away at his throat, a dull fright
+gripping him when he thought of losing her altogether.
+
+St. George's quick step, followed by his firm clutch of the inside knob,
+awoke him to consciousness. He sprang forward to catch his first word.
+
+"Can I go in?" he stammered.
+
+St. George grabbed him by the shoulder, wheeled him around, and faced
+him.
+
+"Yes, you reprobate, and when you get in go down on your knees and beg
+her pardon, and if I ever catch you causing her another heartache I'll
+break your damned neck!--do you hear?"
+
+
+With the shutting of the swinging gate the wily old diplomat regained
+his normal good-humored poise, his face beaming, his whole body tingling
+at his success. He knew what was going on behind the closed curtains,
+and just how contrite and humble the boy would be, and how Kate would
+scold and draw herself up--proud duchess that she was--and how Harry
+would swear by the nine gods, and an extra one if need be--and
+then there would come a long, long silence, broken by meaningless,
+half-spoken words--and then another silence--so deep and absorbing that
+a full choir of angels might have started an anthem above their heads
+and neither of them would have heard a word or note.
+
+And so he kept on his way, picking his steps between the moist places
+in the path to avoid soiling his freshly varnished boots; tightening the
+lower button of his snug-fitting plum-colored coat as a bracing to his
+waist-line; throwing open the collar of his overcoat the wider to
+give his shoulders the more room--very happy--very well satisfied with
+himself, with the world, and with everybody who lived in it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+
+Moorlands was ablaze!
+
+From the great entrance gate flanked by moss-stained brick posts capped
+with stone balls, along the avenue of oaks to the wide portico leading
+to the great hall and spacious rooms, there flared one continuous burst
+of light. On either side of the oak-bordered driveway, between the
+tree-trunks, crackled torches of pine knots, the glow of their curling
+flames bringing into high relief the black faces of innumerable
+field-hands from the Rutter and neighboring plantations, lined up
+on either side of the gravel road--teeth and eyeballs flashing white
+against the blackness of the night. Under the porches hung festoons
+of lanterns of every conceivable form and color, while inside the wide
+baronial hall, and in the great drawing-room with the apartments
+beyond, the light of countless candles, clustered together in silver
+candelabras, shed a soft glow over the groups of waiting guests.
+
+To-night Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands, direct descendant of
+the house of De Ruyter, with an ancestry dating back to the Spanish
+Invasion, was to bid official welcome to a daughter of the house of
+Seymour, equally distinguished by flood and field in the service of
+its king. These two--God be thanked--loved each other, and now that the
+young heir to Moorlands was to bring home his affianced bride, soon
+to become his wedded wife, no honor could be too great, no expense too
+lavish, no welcome too joyful.
+
+Moreover, that this young princess of the blood might be accorded
+all the honors due her birth, lineage, and rank, the colonel's own
+coach-and-four, with two postilions and old Matthew on the box--twenty
+years in the service--his whip tied with forget-me-nots, the horses'
+ears streaming with white ribbons--each flank as smooth as satin and
+each panel bright as a mirror--had been trundled off to Kennedy Square,
+there to receive the fairest of all her daughters, together with such
+other members of her royal suite--including His Supreme Excellency
+the Honorable Prim--not forgetting, of course, Kate's old black mammy,
+Henny, who was as much a part of the fair lady's belongings when she
+went afield as her ostrich-plume fan, her white gloves, or the wee
+slippers that covered her enchanting feet.
+
+Every detail of harness, wheel, and brake--even the horn itself--had
+passed under the colonel's personal supervision; Matthew on the box
+straight as a hitching-post and bursting with pride, reins gathered,
+whip balanced, the leaders steady and the wheel horses in line. Then the
+word had been given, and away they had swept round the circle and so on
+down the long driveway to the outer gate and Kennedy Square. Ten miles
+an hour were the colonel's orders and ten miles an hour must Matthew
+make, including the loading and unloading of his fair passenger and her
+companions, or there would be the devil to pay on his return.
+
+And the inside of the house offered no less a welcome. Drawn up in the
+wide hall, under the direct command of old Alec, the head butler, were
+the house servants;--mulatto maids in caps, snuff-colored second butlers
+in livery, jet-black mammies in new bandannas and white aprons--all in a
+flutter of excitement, and each one determined to get the first glimpse
+of Marse Harry's young lady, no matter at what risk.
+
+Alec himself was a joy to look upon--eyeballs and teeth gleaming, his
+face one wide, encircling smile. Marse Harry was the apple of his eye,
+and had been ever since the day of his birth. He had carried him on his
+back when a boy; had taught him to fish and hunt and to ride to hounds;
+had nursed him when he fell ill at the University in his college days,
+and would gladly have laid down his life for him had any such necessity
+arisen. To-night, in honor of the occasion, he was rigged out in a
+new bottle-green coat with shiny brass buttons, white waistcoat, white
+gloves three sizes too big for him, and a huge white cravat flaring out
+almost to the tips of his ears. Nothing was too good for Alec--so his
+mistress thought--and for the best of reasons. Not only was he the
+ideal servant of the old school, but he was the pivot on which the whole
+establishment moved. If a particular brand or vintage was needed, or a
+key was missing, or did a hair trunk, or a pair of spurs, or last
+week's Miscellany, go astray--or even were his mistress's spectacles
+mislaid--Alec could put his hand upon each and every item in so short a
+space of time that the loser was convinced the old man had hidden them
+on purpose, to enjoy their refinding. Moorlands without old Alec would
+hive been a wheel without a hub.
+
+As a distinct feature of all these preparations--and this was the
+best part of the programme--Harry was to meet Kate at the outer gate
+supported by half a dozen of his young friends and hers--Dr. Teackle,
+Mark Gilbert, Langdon Willits, and one or two others--while Mrs. Rutter,
+Mrs. Cheston, Mrs. Richard Horn, and a bevy of younger women and girls
+were to welcome her with open arms the moment her dainty feet cleared
+the coach's step. This was the way princesses of the blood had been
+welcomed from time immemorial to palaces and castles high, and this was
+the way their beloved Kate was to make entry into the home of her lord.
+
+Soon the flash of the coach lamps was seen outside the far gate. Then
+there came the wind of a horn--a rollicking, rolling, gladsome sound,
+and in the wink of an eyelid every one was out on the portico straining
+their eyes, listening eagerly. A joyous shout now went up from the
+negroes lining the fences; from the groups about the steps and along the
+driveway.
+
+"Here she comes!"
+
+The leaders with a swing pranced into view as they cleared the gate
+posts. There came a moment's halt at the end of the driveway; a
+postilion vaulted down, threw wide the coach door and a young man sprang
+in. It was Harry!... Snap!! Crack!! Toot--toot!!--and they were off
+again, heading straight for the waiting group. Another prolonged,
+winding note--louder--nearer--one of triumph this time!--a galloping,
+circling dash toward the porch crowded with guests--the reining in of
+panting leaders--the sudden gathering up of the wheel horses, back on
+their haunches--the coach door flung wide and out stepped Kate--Harry's
+hand in hers, her old mammy behind, her father last of all.
+
+"Oh, such a lovely drive! and it was so kind of you, dear colonel, to
+send for me! Oh, it was splendid! And Matthew galloped most all the
+way." She had come as a royal princess, but she was still our Kate. "And
+you are all out here to meet me!" Here she kissed Harry's mother--"and
+you too, Uncle George--and Sue--Oh, how fine you all look!"--and with a
+curtsy and a joyous laugh and a hand-clasp here and there, she bent her
+head and stepped into the wide hall under the blaze of the clustered
+candles.
+
+It was then that they caught their breaths, for no such vision of beauty
+had ever before stood in the wide hall of Moorlands, her eyes shining
+like two stars above the rosy hue of her cheek; her skin like a shell,
+her throat and neck a lily in color and curves. And her poise; her
+gladsomeness; her joy at being alive and at finding everybody else
+alive; the way she moved and laughed and bent her pretty head; the
+ripples of gay laughter and the low-pitched tone of the warm greetings
+that fell from her lips!
+
+No wonder Harry was bursting with pride; no wonder Langdon Willits
+heaved a deep sigh when he caught the glance that Kate flashed at Harry
+and went out on the porch to get a breath of fresh air; no wonder St.
+George's heart throbbed as he watched them both and thought how near all
+this happiness had come to being wrecked; no wonder the servants tumbled
+over each other in their eagerness to get a view of her face and gown,
+and no wonder, too, that the proud, old colonel who ruled his house with
+a rod of iron, determined for the first time in his life to lay down
+the sceptre and give Kate and Harry full sway to do whatever popped into
+their two silly heads.
+
+And our young Lochinvar was fully her match in bearing, dress, and
+manners,--every inch a prince and every inch a Rutter,--and with such
+grace of movement as he stepped beside her, that even punctilious,
+outspoken old Mrs. Cheston--who had forgiven him his escapade, and who
+was always laughing at what she called the pump-handle shakes of some
+of the underdone aristocrats about her, had to whisper to the nearest
+guest--"Watch Harry, my dear, if you would see how a thoroughbred
+manages his legs and arms when he wishes to do honor to a woman.
+Admirable!--charming! No young man of my time ever did better." And Mrs.
+Cheston knew, for she had hobnobbed with kings and queens, her husband
+having represented his government at the Court of St. James--which fact,
+however, never prevented her from calling a spade a spade; nor was she
+ever very particular as to what the spade unearthed.
+
+Yes--a very gallant and handsome young man was our prince as he handed
+Kate up the stairs on her way to the dressing-room, and looked it in his
+pearl-gray coat with buttons of silver, fluffy white silk scarf, high
+dog-eared collar, ivory-white waistcoat, and tight-fitting trousers of
+nankeen yellow, held close to the pumps with invisible straps. And a
+very gallant and handsome young fellow he felt himself to be on this
+night of his triumph, and so thought Kate--in fact she had fallen in
+love with him over again--and so too did every one of the young girls
+who crowded about them, as well as the dominating, erect aristocrat of
+a father, and the anxious gentle mother, who worshipped the ground on
+which he walked.
+
+Kate had noted every expression that crossed his face, absorbing him in
+one comprehensive glance as he stood in the full blaze of the candles,
+her gaze lingering on his mouth and laughing eyes and the soft sheen of
+his brown hair, its curved-in ends brushing the high velvet collar of
+his coat--and so on down his shapely body to his shapely feet. Never had
+she seen him so adorable--and he was all her own, and for life!
+
+As for our dear St. George Temple, who had never taken his eyes off
+them, he thought they were the goodliest pair the stars ever shone upon,
+and this his happiest night. There would be no more stumbling after
+this. Kate had the bridle well in hand now; all she needed was a clear
+road, and that was ahead of both horse and rider.
+
+"Makes your blood jump in your veins, just to look at them, doesn't
+it, Talbot?" cried St. George to Harry's father when Kate
+disappeared--laying his hand as he spoke on the shoulder of the man with
+whom he had grown up from a boy. "Is there anything so good as the love
+of a good woman?--the wise old prophet places her beyond the price of
+rubies."
+
+"Only one thing, St. George--the love of a good man--one like yourself,
+you dear old fellow. And why the devil you haven't found that out years
+ago is more than I can understand. Here you are my age, and you might
+have had a Kate and Harry of your own by this time, and yet you live a
+stupid old--"
+
+"No, I won't hear you talk so, colonel!" cried a bride of a year. "Uncle
+George is never stupid, and he couldn't be old. What would all these
+young girls do--what would I have done" (another love affair with St.
+George as healer and mender!)--"what would anybody have done without
+him? Come, Miss Lavinia--do you hear the colonel abusing Uncle George
+because he isn't married? Speak up for him--it's wicked of you, colonel,
+to talk so."
+
+Miss Lavinia Clendenning, who was one of St. George's very own, in spite
+of her forty-odd years, threw back her head until the feathers in her
+slightly gray hair shook defiantly:
+
+"No--I won't say a word for him, Sue. I've given him up forever. He's a
+disgrace to everybody who knows him."
+
+"Oh, you renegade!" exclaimed St. George in mock alarm.
+
+"Yes,--a positive disgrace! He'll never marry anybody, Sue, until he
+marries me. I've begged him on my knees until I'm tired, to name the
+day, and he won't! Just like all you shiftless Marylanders, sir--never
+know when to make up your minds."
+
+"But you threw me over, Lavinia, and broke my heart," laughed Temple
+with a low bow, his palms flattened against his waistcoat in assumed
+humility.
+
+"When?"
+
+"Oh, twenty years ago."
+
+"Oh, my goodness gracious! Of course I threw you over then;--you were
+just a baby in arms and I was old enough to be your mother--but now it's
+different. I'm dying to get married and nobody wants me. If you were a
+Virginian instead of a doubting Marylander, you would have asked me a
+hundred times and kept on asking until I gave in. Now it's too late.
+I always intended to give in, but you were so stupid you couldn't or
+wouldn't understand."
+
+"It's never too late to mend, Lavinia," he prayed with hands extended.
+
+"It's too late to mend you, St. George! You are cracked all over, and as
+for me--I'm ready to fall to pieces any minute. I'm all tied up now with
+corset laces and stays and goodness knows what else. No--I'm done with
+you."
+
+While this merry badinage was going on, the young people crowding the
+closer so as not to lose a word, or making room for the constant stream
+of fresh arrivals on their way toward the dressing-rooms above, their
+eyes now and then searching the top of the stairs in the hope of getting
+the first glimpse of Kate, our heroine was receiving the final touches
+from her old black mammy. It took many minutes. The curl must be
+adjusted, the full skirts pulled out or shaken loose, the rare jewels
+arranged before she was dismissed with--"Dah, honey chile, now go-long.
+Ain't nary one on 'em ain't pizen hongry for ye--any mos' on 'em 'll
+drown derselves 'fo' mawnin' becos dey can't git ye."
+
+She is ready now, Harry beside her, her lace scarf embroidered with pink
+rosebuds floating from her lovely shoulders, her satin skirt held firmly
+in both hands that she might step the freer, her dainty silk stockings
+with the ribbons crossed about her ankles showing below its edge.
+
+But it was the colonel who took possession of her when she reached the
+floor of the great hall, and not her father nor her lover.
+
+"No, Harry--stand aside, sir. Out with you! Kate goes in with me!
+Seymour, please give your arm to Mrs. Rutter." And with the manner of a
+courtier leading a princess into the presence of her sovereign, the
+Lord of Moorlands swept our Lady of Kennedy Square into the brilliant
+drawing-room crowded with guests.
+
+
+It was a great ball and it was a great ballroom--in spaciousness, color,
+and appointments. No one had ever dreamed of its possibilities before,
+although everybody knew it was the largest in the county. The gentle
+hostess, with old Alec as head of the pulling-out-and-moving-off
+department, had wrought the change. All the chairs, tables, sofas, and
+screens, little and big, had either been spirited away or pushed back
+against the wall for tired dancers. Over the wide floor was stretched
+a linen crash; from the ceiling and bracketed against the white walls,
+relieved here and there by long silken curtains of gold-yellow, blazed
+clusters of candles, looking for all the world like so many bursting
+sky-rockets, while at one end, behind a mass of flowering plants, sat a
+quartette of musicians, led by an old darky with a cotton-batting head,
+who had come all the way from Philadelphia a-purpose.
+
+Nor had the inner man been forgotten: bowls of hot apple toddy steamed
+away in the dining-room; bowls of eggnog frothed away in the library;
+ladlings of punch, and the contents of several old cut-glass decanters,
+flanked by companies of pipe-stem glasses, were being served in the
+dressing-rooms; while relays of hot terrapin, canvas-back duck, sizzling
+hot; olio, cold joints; together with every conceivable treatment and
+condition of oysters--in scallop shells, on silver platters and
+in wooden plates--raw, roasted, fried, broiled, baked, and
+stewed--everything in fact that could carry out the colonel's watchword,
+"Eat, drink, and be merry," were within the beck and call of each and
+every guest.
+
+And there were to be no interludes of hunger and thirst if the host
+could help it. No dull pauses nor recesses, but one continued round,
+lasting until midnight, at which hour the final banquet in the
+dining-room was to be served, and the great surprise of the evening
+reached--the formal announcement of Harry and Kate's engagement,
+followed by the opening of the celebrated bottle of the Jefferson 1800
+Monticello Madeira, recorked at our young hero's birth.
+
+And it goes without saying that there were no interludes. The fun began
+at once, a long line of merry talk and laughter following the wake of
+the procession, led by the host and Kate, the colonel signalling at last
+to the cotton-batting with the goggle spectacles, who at once struck up
+a polka and away they all went, Harry and Kate in the lead, the whole
+room in a whirl.
+
+This over and the dancers out of breath, Goggles announced a
+quadrille--the colonel and St. George helping to form the sets. Then
+followed the schottische, then another polka until everybody was tired
+out, and then with one accord the young couples rushed from the hot
+room, hazy with the dust of lint from the linen crash, and stampeded for
+the cool wide stairs that led from the great hall. For while in summer
+the shadows on some vine-covered porch swallowed the lovers, in winter
+the stairs were generally the trysting-place--and the top step the one
+most sought--because there was nobody behind to see. This was the roost
+for which Kate and Harry scampered, and there they intended to sit until
+the music struck up again.
+
+"Oh, Kate, you precious darling, how lovely you look!" burst out Harry
+for the hundredth time when she had nestled down beside him--"and what a
+wonderful gown! I never saw that one before, did I?"
+
+"No--you never have," she panted, her breath gone from her dance and the
+dash for the staircase. "It's my dear mother's dress, and her scarf too.
+I had very little done to it--only the skirt made wider. Isn't it soft
+and rich? Grandpa used to bring these satins from China."
+
+"And the pearls--are they the ones you told me about?" He was adjusting
+them to her throat as he spoke--somehow he could not keep his hands from
+her.
+
+"Yes--mother's jewels. Father got them out of his strong-box for me this
+morning. He wanted me to wear them to-night. He says I can have them all
+now. She must have been very beautiful, Harry--and just think, dear--she
+was only a few years older than I am when she died. Sometimes when I
+wear her things and get to thinking about her, and remember how young
+and beautiful she was and how unhappy her life, it seems as if I must
+be unhappy myself--somehow as if it were not right to have all this
+happiness when she had none." There was a note of infinite pathos in her
+voice--a note one always heard when she spoke of her mother. Had Harry
+looked deeper into her eyes he might have found the edges of two tears
+trembling on their lids.
+
+"She never was as beautiful as you, my darling--nobody ever was--nobody
+ever could be!" he cried, ignoring all allusion to her mother. Nothing
+else counted with the young fellow to-night--all he knew and cared for
+was that Kate was his very own, and that all the world would soon know
+it.
+
+"That's because you love me, Harry. You have only to look at her
+portrait in father's room to see how exquisite she was. I can never be
+like her--never so gracious, so patient, no matter how hard I try."
+
+He put his fingers on her lips: "I won't have you say it. I won't let
+anybody say it. I could hardly speak when I saw you in the full light of
+the hall. It was so dark in the coach I didn't know how you looked, and
+I didn't care; I was so glad to get hold of you. But when your cloak
+slipped from your shoulders and you--Oh!--you darling Kate!" His eye
+caught the round of her throat and the taper of her lovely arm--"I am
+going to kiss you right here--I will--I don't care who--"
+
+She threw up her hands with a little laugh. She liked him the better for
+daring, although she was afraid to yield.
+
+"No--NO--Harry! They will see us--don't--you mustn't!"
+
+"Mustn't what! I tell you, Kate, I am going to kiss you--I don't care
+what you say or who sees me. It's been a year since I kissed you in
+the coach--forty years--now, you precious Kate, what difference does it
+make? I will, I tell you--no--don't turn your head away."
+
+She was struggling feebly, her elbow across her face as a shield,
+meaning all the time to raise her lips to his, when her eyes fell on
+the figure of a young man making his way toward them. Instantly her back
+straightened.
+
+"There's Langdon Willits at the bottom of the stairs talking to Mark
+Gilbert," she whispered in dismay. "See--he is coming up. I wonder what
+he wants."
+
+Harry gathered himself together and his face clouded. "I wish he was at
+the bottom of the sea. I don't like Willits--I never did. Neither does
+Uncle George. Besides, he's in love with you, and he always has been."
+
+"What nonsense, Harry," she answered, opening her fan and waving it
+slowly. She knew her lover was right--knew more indeed than her lover
+could ever know: she had used all the arts of which she was mistress to
+keep Willits from proposing.
+
+"But he IS in love with you," Harry insisted stiffly. "Won't he be
+fighting mad, though, when he hears father announce our engagement at
+supper?" Then some tone in her voice recalled that night on the sofa
+when she still held out against his pleading, and with it came the
+thought that while she could be persuaded she could never be driven.
+Instantly his voice changed to its most coaxing tones: "You won't dance
+with him, will you, Kate darling? I can't bear to see you in anybody
+else's arms but my own."
+
+Her hand grasped his wrist with a certain meaning in the pressure.
+
+"Now don't be a goose, Harry. I must be polite to everybody, especially
+to-night--and you wouldn't have me otherwise."
+
+"Yes, but not to him."
+
+"But what difference does it make? You are too sensible not to
+understand, and I am too happy, anyway, to want to be rude to anybody.
+And then you should never be jealous of Langdon Willits."
+
+"Well, then, not a round dance, please, Kate." He dare not oppose her
+further. "I couldn't stand a round dance. I won't have his arm touch
+you, my darling." And he bent his cheek close to hers.
+
+She looked at him from under her shadowed lids as she had looked at
+St. George when she greeted him at the foot of the stairs; a gleam
+of coquetry, of allurement, of joy shining through her glances like
+delicate antennae searching to feel where her power lay. Should she
+venture, as her Uncle George had suggested, to take the reins in her
+own hands and guide this restive, mettlesome thoroughbred, or should
+she surrender to him? Then a certain mischievous coquetry possessed her.
+With a light, bubbling laugh she drew her cheek away.
+
+"Yes, any kind of a dance that he or anybody else wants that I can
+give him," she burst out with a coquettish twist of her head, her eyes
+brimming with fun.
+
+"But I'm on your card for every single dance," he demanded, his eyes
+again flashing. "Look at it--I filled it up myself," and he held up his
+own bit of paste-board so she could read the list. "I tell you I won't
+have his arm around you!"
+
+"Well, then, he sha'n't touch even the tips of my fingers, you dreadful
+Mr. Bluebeard." She had surrendered now. He was never so compelling as
+when determined to have his own way. Again her whole manner changed;
+she was once more the sweetheart: "Don't let us bother about cards, my
+darling, or dances, or anything. Let us talk of how lovely it is to be
+together again. Don't you think so, Harry?" and she snuggled the closer
+to his arm, her soft cheek against his coat.
+
+Before Harry could answer, young Willits, who had been edging his way
+up the stairs two steps at a time, avoiding the skirts of the girls,
+reaching over the knees of the men as he clung to the hand-rail, stood
+on the step below them.
+
+"It's my next dance, Miss Kate, isn't it?" he asked eagerly, scanning
+her face--wondering why she looked so happy.
+
+"What is it to be, Mr. Willits?" she rejoined in perfunctory tones,
+glancing at her own blank card hanging to her wrist: he was the last man
+in the world she wanted to see at this moment.
+
+"The schottische, I think--yes, the schottische," he replied nervously,
+noticing her lack of warmth and not understanding the cause.
+
+"Oh, I'm all out of breath--if you don't mind," she continued evasively;
+"we'll wait for the next one." She dared not invite him to sit down,
+knowing it would make Harry furious--and then again she couldn't stand
+one discordant note to-night--she was too blissfully happy.
+
+"But the next one is mine," exclaimed Harry suddenly, examining his own
+dancing-card. He had not shifted his position a hair's breadth, nor did
+he intend to--although he had been outwardly polite to the intruder.
+
+"Yes--they'd all be yours, Harry, if you had your way," this in a thin,
+dry tone--"but you mustn't forget that Miss Kate's free, white, and
+twenty-one, and can do as she pleases."
+
+Harry's lips straightened. He did not like Willits's manner and he was
+somewhat shocked at his expression; it seemed to smack more of the
+cabin than of the boudoir--especially the boudoir of a princess like his
+precious Kate. He noticed, too, that the young man's face was flushed
+and his utterance unusually rapid, and he knew what had caused it.
+
+"They will be just what Miss Seymour wants them to be, Willits." The
+words came in hard, gritting tones through half-closed lips, and the
+tightening of his throat muscles. This phase of the Rutter blood was
+dangerous.
+
+Kate was startled. Harry must not lose his self-control. There must be
+no misunderstandings on this the happiest night of her life.
+
+"Yes," she said sweetly, with a gracious bend of her head--"but I do
+want to dance with Mr. Willits, only I don't know which one to give
+him."
+
+"Then give me the Virginia reel, Miss Kate, the one that comes just
+before supper, and we can go all in together--you too, Harry," Willits
+insisted eagerly. "See, Miss Kate--your card is still empty," and he
+turned toward her the face of the one hanging to her wrist.
+
+"No, never the reel, Kate, that is mine!" burst out Harry determinedly,
+as a final dismissal to Willits. He lowered his voice, and in a
+beseeching tone said--"Father's set his heart on our dancing the reel
+together--please don't give him the reel!"
+
+Kate, intent on restoring harmony, arched her neck coyly, and said in
+her most bewitching tones--the notes of a robin after a shower: "Well,
+I can't tell yet, Mr. Willits, but you shall have one or the other; just
+leave it to me--either the reel or the schottische. We will talk it over
+when I come down."
+
+"Then it's the reel, Miss Kate, is it not?" he cried, ignoring Harry
+completely, backing away as he retraced his steps, a look of triumph on
+his face.
+
+She shook her head at him, but she did not answer. She wanted to get rid
+of him as quickly as possible. Willits had spoiled everything. She was
+so happy before he came, and Harry was so adorable. She wished now she
+had not drawn away her cheek when he tried to kiss her.
+
+"Don't be angry, Harry, dear," she pleaded coaxingly, determined to get
+her lover back once more. "He didn't mean anything--he only wanted to be
+polite."
+
+"He didn't want to be polite," the angry lover retorted. "He meant to
+force himself in between us; that is what he meant, and he's always at
+it, every chance he gets. He tried it at Mrs. Cheston's the other night
+until I put a stop to it, but there's one thing certain--he'll stop it
+when our engagement is announced after supper or I'll know the reason
+why."
+
+Kate caught her breath. A new disturbing thought entered her mind.
+It was at Mrs. Cheston's that both Willits and Harry had misbehaved
+themselves, and it was Harry's part in the sequel which she had
+forgiven. The least said about that night the better.
+
+"But he is your guest, Harry," she urged at last, still determined to
+divert his thoughts from Willits and the loss of the dance--"OUR guest,"
+she went on--"so is everybody else here to-night, and we must do what
+everybody wants us to, not be selfish about it. Now, my darling--you
+couldn't be impolite to anybody--don't you know you couldn't? Mrs.
+Cheston calls you 'My Lord Chesterfield'--I heard her say so to-night."
+
+"Yes, I know, Kate"--he softened--"that's what father said about my
+being polite to him--but all the same I didn't want Willits invited, and
+it's only because father insisted that he's here. Of course, I'm
+going to be just as polite to him as I can, but even father would feel
+differently about him if he had heard what he said to you a minute ago."
+
+"What did he say?" She knew, but she loved to hear him defend her. This,
+too, was a way out--in a minute he would be her old Harry again.
+
+"I won't even repeat it," he answered doggedly.
+
+"You mean about my being twenty-one? That was rather ungallant, wasn't
+it?"
+
+Again that long look from under her eyelids--he would have succumbed at
+once could he have seen it.
+
+"No, the other part of it. That's not the way to speak to a lady.
+That's what I dislike him for. He never was born a gentleman. He isn't a
+gentleman and never can be a gentleman."
+
+Kate drew herself up--the unreasonableness of the objection jarred
+upon her. He had touched one of her tender spots--pride of birth was
+something she detested.
+
+"Don't talk nonsense, Harry," she replied in a slightly impatient voice.
+Moods changed with our Kate as unexpectedly as April showers. "What
+difference should it make to you or anybody else whether Langdon
+Willits's grandmother was a countess or a country girl, so she was
+honest and a lady?" Her head went up with a toss as she spoke, for this
+was one of Kate's pet theories.
+
+"But he's not of my class, Kate, and he shouldn't be here. I told father
+so."
+
+"Then make him one," she answered stoutly, "if only for to-night, by
+being extra polite and courteous to him and never letting him feel that
+he is outside of what you call 'your class.' I like Mr. Willits, and
+have always liked him. He is invariably polite to me, and he can be very
+kind and sympathetic at times. Listen! they are calling us, and there
+goes the music--come along, darling--it's a schottische and we'll dance
+it together."
+
+Harry sprang up, slipped his arm around Kate's waist, lifted her to her
+feet, held her close, and kissed her squarely on the mouth.
+
+"There, you darling! and another one--two--three! Oh, you precious! What
+do I care about Willits or any other red-headed lower county man that
+ever lived? He can have fifty grandmothers if he pleases and I won't say
+a word--kiss me--kiss me again. Quick now or we'll lose the dance," and,
+utterly oblivious as to whether any one had seen them or not, the two
+raced down the wide stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+
+While all this gayety was going on in the ballroom another and equally
+joyous gathering was besieging the serving tables in the colonel's
+private den--a room leading out of the larger supper room, where he kept
+his guns and shooting togs, and which had been pressed into service for
+this one night.
+
+These thirsty gentlemen were of all ages and tastes, from the young
+men just entering society to the few wrinkled bald-pates whose legs
+had given out and who, therefore, preferred the colonel's Madeira and
+terrapin to the lighter pleasures of the dance.
+
+In and out of the groups, his ruddy, handsome face radiant with the joy
+that welled up in his heart, moved St. George Temple. Never had he been
+in finer form or feather--never had he looked so well--(not all the
+clothes that Poole of London cut came to Moorlands). Something of the
+same glow filtered through him that he had felt on the night when the
+two lovers had settled their difficulties, and he had swung back through
+the park at peace with all the world.
+
+All this could be seen in the way he threw back his head, smiling right
+and left; the way he moved his hands--using them as some men do words or
+their eyebrows--now uplifting them in surprise at the first glimpse
+of some unexpected face, his long delicate fingers outspread in
+exclamations of delight; now closing them tight when he had those of the
+new arrival in his grasp--now curving them, palms up, as he lifted to
+his lips the fingers of a grande dame. "Keep your eyes on St. George,"
+whispered Mrs. Cheston, who never missed a point in friend or foe and
+whose fun at a festivity often lay in commenting on her neighbors,
+praise or blame being impartially mixed as her fancy was touched. "And
+by all means watch his hands, my dear. They are like the baton of an
+orchestra leader and tell the whole story. Only men whose blood and
+lineage have earned them freedom from toil, or men whose brains throb
+clear to their finger-tips, have such hands. Yes! St. George is very
+happy to-night, and I know why. He has something on his mind that he
+means to tell us later on."
+
+Mrs. Cheston was right: she generally was--St. George did have something
+on his mind--something very particular on his mind--a little speech
+really which was a dead secret to everybody except prying Mrs.
+Cheston--one which was to precede the uncorking of that wonderful old
+Madeira, and the final announcement of the engagement--a little speech
+in which he meant to refer to their two dear mothers when they were
+girls, recalling traits and episodes forgotten by most, but which from
+their very loveliness had always lingered in his heart and memory.
+
+Before this important event took place, however, there were some matters
+which he intended to look after himself, one of them being the bowl of
+punch and its contiguous beverages in the colonel's den. This seemed to
+be the storm centre to-night, and here he determined, even at the risk
+of offending his host, to set up danger-signals at the first puff of
+wind. The old fellows, if they chose, might empty innumerable ladles
+full of apple toddy or compounds of Santa Cruz rum and pineapples into
+their own persons, but not the younger bloods! His beloved Kate had
+suffered enough because of these roysterers. There should be one ball
+around Kennedy Square in which everybody would behave themselves, and he
+did not intend to mince his words when the time came. He had
+discussed the matter with the colonel when the ball opened, but little
+encouragement came from that quarter.
+
+"So far as these young sprigs are concerned, St. George," Rutter had
+flashed back, "they must look out for themselves. I can't curtail my
+hospitality to suit their babyships. As for Harry, you're only wasting
+your time. He is made of different stuff--it's not in his blood and
+couldn't be. Whatever else he may become he will never be a sot. Let him
+have his fling: once a Rutter, always a Rutter," and then, with a ring
+in his voice, "when my son ceases to be a gentleman, St. George, I will
+show him the door, but drink will never do it."
+
+Dr. Teackle had also been on the alert. He was a young physician just
+coming into practice, many of the younger set being his patients, and
+he often acted as a curb when they broke loose. He, with St. George's
+whispered caution in his ears, had also tried to frame a word of protest
+to the colonel, suggesting in the mildest way that that particular
+bowl of apple toddy be not replenished--but the Lord of the Manor
+had silenced him with a withering glance before he had completed his
+sentence. In this dilemma he had again sought out St. George.
+
+"Look out for Willits, Uncle George. He'll be staggering in among the
+ladies if he gets another crack at that toddy. It's an infernal shame to
+bring these relays of punch in here. I tried to warn the colonel, but he
+came near eating me up. Willits has had very little experience in this
+sort of thing and is mixing his eggnog with everything within his reach.
+That will split his head wide open in the morning."
+
+"Go and find him, Teackle, and bring him to me," cried St. George; "I'll
+stay here until you get him. Tell him I want to see him--and Alec"--this
+to the old butler who was skimming past, his hands laden with
+dishes--"don't you bring another drop of punch into this room until you
+see me."
+
+"But de colonel say dat--"
+
+"--I don't care what the colonel says; if he wants to know why, tell him
+I ordered it. I'm not going to have this night spoiled by any tomfoolery
+of Talbot's, I don't care what he says. You hear me, Alec? Not a drop.
+Take out those half-empty bowls and don't you serve another thimbleful
+of anything until I say so." Here he turned to the young doctor, who
+seemed rather surprised at St. George's dictatorial air--one rarely
+seen in him. "Yes--brutal, I know, Teackle, and perhaps a little
+ill-mannered, this interfering with another man's hospitality, but if
+you knew how Kate has suffered over this same stupidity you would say I
+was right. Talbot never thinks--never cares. Because he's got a head as
+steady as a town clock and can put away a bottle of port without winking
+an eyelid, he believes anybody else can do the same. I tell you this
+sort of thing has got to stop or sooner or later these young bloods
+will break the hearts of half the girls in town.... Careful! here comes
+Willits--not another word.... Oh, Mr. Willits, here you are! I was
+just going to send for you. I want to talk to you about that mare of
+yours--is she still for sale?" His nonchalance was delightful.
+
+"No, Mr. Temple; I had thought of keeping her, sir," the young man
+rejoined blandly, greatly flattered at having been specially singled out
+by the distinguished Mr. Temple. "But if you are thinking of buying
+my mare, I should be most delighted to consider it. If you will permit
+me--I will call upon you in the morning." This last came with elaborate
+effusiveness. "But you haven't a drop of anything to drink, Mr. Temple,
+nor you either, doctor! Egad! What am I thinking of! Come, won't you
+join me? The colonel's mixtures are--"
+
+"Better wait, Mr. Willits," interrupted St. George calmly and with the
+air of one conversant with the resources of the house. "Alec has just
+taken out a half-emptied bowl of toddy." He had seen at a glance that
+Teackle's diagnosis of the young man's condition was correct.
+
+"Then let us have a swig at the colonel's port--it's the best in the
+county."
+
+"No, hold on till the punch comes. You young fellows don't know how to
+take care of your stomachs. You ought to stick to your tipple as you do
+to your sweetheart--you should only have one."
+
+"--At a time," laughed Teackle.
+
+"No, one ALL the time, you dog! When I was your age, Mr. Willits, if
+I drank Madeira I continued to drink Madeira, not to mix it up with
+everything on the table."
+
+"By Jove, you're right, Mr. Temple! I'm sticking to one girl--Miss
+Kate's my girl to-night. I'm going to dance the Virginia reel with her."
+
+St. George eyed him steadily. He saw that the liquor had already reached
+his head or he would not have spoken of Kate as he did. "Your choice is
+most admirable, Mr. Willits," he said suavely, "but let Harry have Miss
+Kate to-night," adding, as he laid his hand confidingly on the young
+man's shoulder--"they were made to step that dance together."
+
+"But she said she would dance it with me!" he flung back--he did not
+mean to be defrauded.
+
+"Really?" It was wonderful how soft St. George's voice could be. Teackle
+could not have handled a refractory patient the better.
+
+"Well, that is," rejoined Willits, modified by Temple's tone--"she is to
+let me know--that was the bargain."
+
+Still another soft cadence crept into St. George's voice: "Well, even
+if she did say she would let you know, do be a little generous. Miss
+Seymour is always so obliging; but she ought really to dance the reel
+with Harry to-night." He used Kate's full name, but Willits's head was
+buzzing too loudly for him to notice the delicately suggested rebuke.
+
+"Well, I don't see that, and I'm not going to see it, either. Harry's
+always coming in between us; he tried to get Miss Kate away from me a
+little while ago, but he didn't succeed."
+
+"Noblesse oblige, my dear Mr. Willits," rejoined St. George in a more
+positive tone. "He is host, you know, and the ball is given to Miss
+Seymour, and Harry can do nothing else but be attentive." He felt like
+strangling the cub, but it was neither the time nor place--nothing
+should disturb Kate's triumph if he could help it. One way was to keep
+Willits sober, and this he intended to do whether the young man liked it
+or not--if he talked to him all night.
+
+"But it is my dance," Willits broke out. "You ask him if it isn't my
+dance--he heard what Miss Kate said. Here comes Harry now."
+
+Like a breath of west wind our young prince blew in, his face radiant,
+his eyes sparkling. He had entirely forgotten the incident on the stairs
+in the rapture of Kate's kisses, and Willits was once more one of the
+many guests he was ready to serve and be courteous to.
+
+"Ah, gentlemen--I hope you have everything you want!" he cried with
+a joyous wave of his hand. "Where will I get an ice for Kate, Uncle
+George? We are just about beginning the Virginia reel and she is so
+warm. Oh, we have had such a lovely waltz! Why are you fellows not
+dancing? Send them in, Uncle George." He was brimming over with
+happiness.
+
+Willits moved closer: "What did you say? The Virginia reel? Has it
+begun?" His head was too muddled for quick thinking.
+
+"Not yet, Willits, but it will right away--everybody is on the floor
+now," returned Harry, his eyes in search of something to hold Kate's
+refreshment.
+
+"Then it is my dance, Harry. I thought the reel was to be just before
+supper or I would have hunted Miss Kate up."
+
+"So it is," laughed Harry, catching up an empty plate from the serving
+table and moving to where the ices were spread. "You ought to know,
+for you told her yourself. It is about to begin. They were taking their
+partners when I left."
+
+"Then that's MY reel," Willits insisted. "You heard what Miss Kate said,
+Harry--that's what I told you too, Mr. Temple," and he turned to St.
+George for confirmation.
+
+"Oh, but you are mistaken, Langdon," continued Harry, bending over the
+dish. "She said she would decide later on whether to give you the reel
+or a schottische--and she has. Miss Kate dances this reel with me."
+There was a flash in his eye as he spoke, but he was still the host.
+
+"And I suppose you will want the one after supper too," snapped Willits.
+He had edged closer and was now speaking to Harry's bent back.
+
+"Why, certainly, if Miss Kate is willing and wishes it," rejoined Harry
+simply, still too intent on having the ice reach his sweetheart at the
+earliest possible moment to notice either Willits's condition or his
+tone of voice.
+
+Willits sprang forward just as Harry regained his erect position. "No
+you won't, sir!" he cried angrily. "I've got some rights here and I'm
+going to protect them. I'll ask Miss Kate myself and find out whether I
+am to be made a fool of like this," and before St. George could prevent
+started for the door.
+
+Harry dropped the plate on the table and blocked the enraged man's exit
+with his outstretched arm. He was awake now--wide awake--and to the
+cause.
+
+"You'll do nothing of the kind, Langdon--not in your present state. Pull
+yourself together, man! Miss Seymour is not accustomed to be spoken of
+in that way and you know it. Now don't be foolish--stay here with Uncle
+George and the doctor until you cool down. There are the best of reasons
+why I should dance the reel with Miss Kate, but I can't explain them
+now."
+
+"Neither am I, Mr. Harry Rutter, accustomed to be spoken to in that way
+by you or anybody else. I don't care a rap for your explanations. Get
+out of my way, or you'll be sorry," and he sprang one side and flung
+himself out of the room before Harry could realize the full meaning of
+his words.
+
+St. George saw the flash in the boy's eyes, and stretching out his hand
+laid it on Harry's arm.
+
+"Steady, my boy! Let him go--Kate will take care of him."
+
+"No! I'll take care of him!--and now!" He was out of the room and the
+door shut behind him before Temple could frame a reply.
+
+St. George shot an anxious, inquiring look at Teackle, who nodded his
+head in assent, and the two hurried from the room and across the expanse
+of white crash, Willits striding ahead, Harry at his heels, St. George
+and the doctor following close behind.
+
+Kate stood near the far door, her radiant eyes fixed on Harry's
+approaching figure--the others she did not see. Willits reached her
+first:
+
+"Miss Kate, isn't this my dance?" he burst out--"didn't you promise me?"
+
+Kate started and for a moment her face flushed. If she had forgotten
+any promise she had made it certainly was not intentional. Then her mind
+acted. There must be no bad blood here--certainly not between Harry and
+Willits.
+
+"No, not quite that, Mr. Willits," she answered in her sweetest voice,
+a certain roguish coquetry in its tones. "I said I'd think it over, and
+you never came near me, and so Harry and I are--"
+
+"But you DID promise me." His voice could be heard all over the
+room--even the colonel, who was talking to a group of ladies, raised
+his head to listen, his companions thinking the commotion was due to the
+proper arranging of the dance.
+
+Harry's eyes flashed; angry blood was mounting to his cheeks. He was
+amazed at Willits's outburst.
+
+"You mean to contradict Miss Kate! Are you crazy, Willits?"
+
+"No, I am entirely sane," he retorted, an ugly ring in his voice.
+
+Everybody had ceased talking now. Good-natured disputes over the young
+girls were not uncommon among the young men, but this one seemed to have
+an ominous sound. Colonel Rutter evidently thought so, for he had now
+risen from his seat and was crossing the room to where Harry and the
+group stood.
+
+"Well, you neither act nor talk as if you were sane," rejoined Harry
+in cold, incisive tones, inching his way nearer Kate, as if to be the
+better prepared to defend her.
+
+Willits's lip curled. "I am not beholden to you, sir, for my conduct,
+although I can be later on for my words. Let me see your dancing-card,
+Miss Kate," and he caught it from her unresisting hand. "There--what did
+I tell you!" This came with a flare of indignation. "It was a blank when
+I saw it last and you've filled it in, sir, of your own accord!" Here he
+faced Harry. "That's your handwriting--I'll leave it to you, Mr. Temple,
+if it isn't his handwriting."
+
+Harry flushed scarlet and his eyes blazed as he stepped toward the
+speaker. Kate shrank back in alarm--she had read Harry's face and knew
+what was behind it.
+
+"Take that back, Langdon--quick! You are my guest, but you mustn't say
+things like that here. I put my name on the card because Miss Kate asked
+me to. Take it back, sir--NOW!--and then make an humble apology to Miss
+Seymour.
+
+"I'll take back nothing! I've been cheated out of a dance. Here--take
+her--and take this with her!" and he tore Kate's card in half and threw
+the pieces in his host's face.
+
+With the spring of a cat, Harry lunged forward and raised his arm as
+if to strike Willits in the face: Willits drew himself up to his full
+height and confronted him: Kate shrivelled within herself, all the color
+gone from her cheeks. Whether to call out for help or withdraw quietly,
+was what puzzled her. Both would concentrate the attention of the whole
+room on the dispute.
+
+St. George, who was boiling with indignation and disgust, but still cool
+and himself, pushed his way into the middle of the group.
+
+"Not a word, Harry," he whispered in low, frigid tones. "This can be
+settled in another way." Then in his kindest voice, so loud that all
+could hear--"Teackle, will you and Mr. Willits please meet me in the
+colonel's den--that, perhaps, is the best place after all to straighten
+out these tangles. I'll join you there as soon as I have Miss Kate
+safely settled." He bent over her: "Kate, dear, perhaps you had better
+sit alongside of Mrs. Rutter until I can get these young fellows
+cooled off"--and in a still lower key--"you behaved admirably, my
+girl--admirably. I'm proud of you. Mr. Willits has had too much to
+drink--that is what is the matter with him, but it will be all over in a
+minute--and, Harry, my boy, suppose you help me look up Teackle," and he
+laid his hand with an authoritative pressure on the boy's arm.
+
+The colonel had by this time reached the group and stood trying to catch
+the cue. He had heard the closing sentence of St. George's instructions,
+but he had missed the provocation, although he had seen Harry's uplifted
+fist.
+
+"What's the matter, St. George?" he inquired nervously.
+
+"Just a little misunderstanding, Talbot, as to who was to dance with our
+precious Kate," St. George answered with a laugh, as he gripped Harry's
+arm the tighter. "She is such a darling that it is as much as I can do
+to keep these young Romeos from running each other through the body,
+they are so madly in love with her. I am thinking of making off with her
+myself as the only way to keep the peace. Yes, you dear girl, I'll
+come back. Hold the music up for a little while, Talbot, until I can
+straighten them all out," and with his arm still tight through Harry's,
+the two walked the length of the room and closed the far door behind
+them.
+
+Kate looked after them and her heart sank all the lower. She knew the
+feeling between the two men, and she knew Harry's hot, ungovernable
+temper--the temper of the Rutters. Patient as he often was, and
+tender-hearted as he could be, there flashed into his eyes now and then
+something that frightened her--something that recalled an incident
+in the history of his house. He had learned from his gentle mother
+to forgive affronts to himself; she had seen him do it many times,
+overlooking what another man would have resented, but an affront to
+herself or any other woman was a different matter: that he would never
+forgive. She knew, too, that he had just cause to be offended, for in
+all her life no one had ever been so rude to her. That she herself was
+partly to blame only intensified her anxiety. Willits loved her, for he
+had told her so, not once, but several times, although she had answered
+him only with laughter. She should have been honest and not played the
+coquette: and yet, although the fault was partly her own, never had she
+been more astonished than at his outburst. In all her acquaintance with
+him he had never lost his temper. Harry, of course, would lay it to
+Willits's lack of breeding--to the taint in his blood. But she knew
+better--it was the insanity produced by drink, combined with his
+jealousy of Harry, which had caused the gross outrage. If she had only
+told Willits herself of her betrothal and not waited to surprise him
+before the assembled guests, it would have been fairer and spared every
+one this scene.
+
+All these thoughts coursed through her mind as with head still proudly
+erect she crossed the room on the colonel's arm, to a seat beside
+her future mother-in-law, who had noticed nothing, and to whom not a
+syllable of the affair would have been mentioned, all such matters being
+invariably concealed from the dear lady.
+
+Old Mrs. Cheston, however, was more alert; not only had she caught the
+anger in Harry's eyes, but she had followed the flight of the torn
+card as its pieces fell to the floor. She had once been present at a
+reception given by a prime minister when a similar fracas had occurred.
+Then it was a lady's glove and not a dancing-card which was thrown in a
+rival's face, and it was a rapier that flashed and not a clenched fist.
+
+"What was the matter over there, Talbot?" she demanded, speaking from
+behind her fan when the colonel came within hearing.
+
+"Nothing! Some little disagreement about who should lead the Virginia
+reel with Kate. I have stopped the music until they fix it up."
+
+"Don't talk nonsense, Talbot Rutter, not to me. There was bad blood over
+there--you better look after them. There'll be trouble if you don't."
+
+The colonel tucked the edge of a rebellious ruffle inside his
+embroidered waistcoat and with a quiet laugh said: "St. George is
+attending to them."
+
+"St. George is as big a fool as you are about such things. Go, I tell
+you, and see what they are doing in there with the door shut."
+
+"But, my dear Mrs. Cheston," echoed her host with a deprecating wave of
+his hand--"my Harry would no more attack a man under his own roof than
+you would cut off your right hand. He's not born that way--none of us
+are."
+
+"You talk like a perfect idiot, Talbot!" she retorted angrily. "You seem
+to have forgotten everything you knew. These young fellows here are so
+many tinder boxes. There will be trouble I tell you--go out there and
+find out what is going on," she reiterated, her voice increasing
+in intensity. "They've had time enough to fix up a dozen Virginia
+reels--and besides, Kate is waiting, and they know it. Look! there's
+some one coming out--it's that young Teackle. Call him over here and
+find out!"
+
+The doctor, who had halted at the door, was now scrutinizing the faces
+of the guests as if in search of some one. Then he moved swiftly to
+the far side of the room, touched Mark Gilbert, Harry's most intimate
+friend, on the shoulder, and the two left the floor.
+
+Kate sat silent, a fixed smile on her face that ill concealed her
+anxiety. She had heard every word of the talk between Mrs. Cheston and
+the colonel, but she did not share the old lady's alarm as to any actual
+conflict. She would trust Uncle George to avoid that. But what kept
+Harry? Why leave her thus abruptly and send no word back? In her dilemma
+she leaned forward and touched the colonel's arm.
+
+"You don't think anything is the matter, dear colonel, do you?"
+
+"With whom, Kate?"
+
+"Between Harry and Mr. Willits. Harry might resent it--he was very
+angry." Her lips were quivering, her eyes strained. She could hide
+her anxiety from her immediate companions, but the colonel was Harry's
+father.
+
+The colonel turned quickly: "Resent it here! under his own roof, and the
+man his guest? That is one thing, my dear, a Rutter never violates,
+no matter what the provocation. I have made a special exception in
+Mr. Willits's favor to-night and Harry knows it. It was at your dear
+father's request that I invited the young fellow. And then again, I hear
+the most delightful things about his own father, who though a plain man
+is of great service to his county--one of Mr. Clay's warmest adherents.
+All this, you see, makes it all the more incumbent that both my son and
+myself should treat him with the utmost consideration, and, as I have
+said, Harry understands this perfectly. You don't know my boy; I would
+disown him, Kate, if he laid a hand on Mr. Willits--and so should you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+
+When Dr. Teackle shut the door of the ballroom upon himself and Mark
+Gilbert the two did not tarry long in the colonel's den, which was still
+occupied by half a dozen of the older men, who were being beguiled by a
+relay of hot terrapin that Alec had just served. On the contrary, they
+continued on past the serving tables, past old Cobden Dorsey, who was
+steeped to the eyes in Santa Cruz rum punch; past John Purviance, and
+Gatchell and Murdoch, smacking their lips over the colonel's Madeira,
+dived through a door leading first to a dark passage, mounted to a short
+flight of steps leading to another dark passage, and so on through a
+second door until they reached a small room level with the ground. This
+was the colonel's business office, where he conducted the affairs of the
+estate--a room remote from the great house and never entered except
+on the colonel's special invitation and only then when business of
+importance necessitated its use.
+
+That business of the very highest importance--not in any way connected
+with the colonel, though of the very gravest moment--was being enacted
+here to-night, could be seen the instant Teackle, with Gilbert at
+his heels, threw open the door. St. George and Harry were in one
+corner--Harry backed against the wall. The boy was pale, but perfectly
+calm and silent. On his face was the look of a man who had a duty to
+perform and who intended to go through with it come what might. On the
+opposite side of the room stood Willits with two young men, his most
+intimate friends. They had followed him out of the ballroom to learn the
+cause of his sudden outburst, and so far had only heard Willits's
+side of the affair. He was now perfectly sober and seemed to feel
+his position, but he showed no fear. On the desk lay a mahogany case
+containing the colonel's duelling pistols. Harry had taken them from his
+father's closet as he passed through the colonel's den.
+
+St. George turned to the young doctor. His face was calm and thoughtful,
+and he seemed to realize fully the gravity of the situation.
+
+"It's no use, Teackle," St. George said with an expressive lift of his
+fingers. "I have done everything a man could, but there is only one
+way out of it. I have tried my best to save Kate from every unhappiness
+to-night, but this is something much more important than woman's tears,
+and that is her lover's honor."
+
+"You mean to tell me, Uncle George, that you can't stop this!" Teackle
+whispered with some heat, his eyes strained, his lips twitching. Here
+he faced Harry. "You sha'n't go on with this affair, I tell you, Harry.
+What will Kate say? Do you think she wants you murdered for a foolish
+thing like this!--and that's about what will happen."
+
+The boy made no reply, except to shake his head. He knew what Kate would
+say--knew what she would do, and knew what she would command him to do,
+could she have heard Willits's continued insults in this very room but
+a moment before while St. George was trying to make him apologize to his
+host and so end the disgraceful incident.
+
+"Then I'll go and bring in the colonel and see what he can do!" burst
+out Teackle, starting for the door. "It's an outrage that--"
+
+"You'll stay here, Teackle," commanded St. George--"right where you
+stand! This is no place for a father. Harry is of age."
+
+"But what an ending to a night like this!"
+
+"I know it--horrible!--frightful!--but I would rather see the boy lying
+dead at my feet than not defend the woman he loves." This came in a
+decisive tone, as if he had long since made up his mind to this phase of
+the situation.
+
+"But Langdon is Harry's guest," Teackle pleaded, dropping his voice
+still lower to escape being heard by the group at the opposite end
+of the room--"and he is still under his roof. It is never done--it is
+against the code. Besides"--and his voice became a whisper--"Harry never
+levelled a pistol at a man in his life, and this is not Langdon's first
+meeting. We can fix it in the morning. I tell you we must fix it."
+
+Harry, who had been listening quietly, reached across the table, picked
+up the case of pistols, handed it to Gilbert, whom he had chosen as his
+second, and in a calm, clear, staccato tone--each word a bullet rammed
+home--said:
+
+"No--Teackle, there will be no delay until to-morrow. Mr. Willits has
+forfeited every claim to being my guest and I will fight him here and
+now. I could never look Kate in the face, nor would she ever speak to
+me again, if I took any other course. You forget that he virtually told
+Kate she lied," and he gazed steadily at Willits as if waiting for the
+effect of his shot.
+
+St. George's eyes kindled. There was the ring of a man in the boy's
+words. He had seen the same look on the elder Rutter's face in a similar
+situation twenty years before. As a last resort he walked toward where
+Willits stood conferring with his second.
+
+"I ask you once more, Mr. Willits"--he spoke in his most courteous
+tones (Willits's pluck had greatly raised him in his estimation)--"to
+apologize like a man and a gentleman. There is no question in my mind
+that you have insulted your host in his own house and been discourteous
+to the woman he expects to marry, and that the amende honorable should
+come from you. I am twice your age and have had many experiences of this
+kind, and I would neither ask you to do a dishonorable thing nor would I
+permit you to do it if I could prevent it. Make a square, manly apology
+to Harry."
+
+Willits gazed at him with a certain ill-concealed contempt on his face.
+He was at the time loosening the white silk scarf about his throat in
+preparation for the expected encounter. He evidently did not believe a
+word of that part of the statement which referred to Harry's engagement.
+If Kate had been engaged to Harry she would have told him so.
+
+"You are only wasting your time, Mr. Temple," he answered with an
+impatient lift of his chin as he stripped his coat from his broad
+shoulders. "You have just said there is only one way to settle this--I
+am ready--so are my friends. You will please meet me outside--there is
+plenty of firelight under the trees, and the sooner we get through this
+the better. The apology should not come from me, and will not. Come,
+gentlemen," and he stepped out into the now drizzling night, the glare
+of the torches falling on his determined face and white shirt as he
+strode down the path followed by his seconds.
+
+Seven gentlemen hurriedly gathered together, one a doctor and another in
+full possession of a mahogany case containing two duelling pistols with
+their accompanying ammunition, G. D. gun caps, powder-horn, swabs and
+rammers, and it past eleven o'clock at night, would have excited but
+little interest to the average darky--especially one unaccustomed to the
+portents and outcomes of such proceedings.
+
+Not so Alec, who had absorbed the situation at a glance. He had
+accompanied his master on two such occasions--one at Bladensburg and the
+other on a neighboring estate, when the same suggestive tokens had been
+visible, except that those fights took place at daybreak, and after
+every requirement of the code had been complied with, instead of under
+the flare of smoking pine torches and within a step of the contestant's
+front door. He had, besides, a most intimate knowledge of the contents
+of the mahogany case, it being part of his duty to see that these
+defenders of the honor of all the Rutters--and they had been in frequent
+use--were kept constantly oiled and cleaned. He had even cast some
+bullets the month before under the colonel's direction. That he was
+present to-night was entirely due to the fact that having made a short
+cut to the kitchen door in order to hurry some dishes, he had by the
+merest chance, and at the precise psychological moment, run bump up
+against the warlike party just before they had reached the duelling
+ground. This was a well-lighted path but a stone's throw from the porch,
+and sufficiently hidden by shrubbery to be out of sight of the ballroom
+windows.
+
+The next moment the old man was in full cry to the house. He had heard
+the beginning of the trouble while he was carrying out St. George's
+orders regarding the two half-emptied bowls of punch and understood
+exactly what was going to happen, and why.
+
+"Got de colonel's pistols!" he choked as he sped along the gravel walk
+toward the front door the quicker to reach the ballroom--"and Marse
+Harry nothin' but a baby! Gor-a-Mighty! Gor-a-Mighty!" Had they all been
+grown-ups he might not have minded--but his "Marse Harry," the child he
+brought up, his idol--his chum!--"Fo' Gawd, dey sha'n't kill 'im--dey
+sha'n't!--DEY SHA'N'T!!"
+
+He had reached the porch now, swung back the door, and with a sudden
+spring--it was wonderful how quick he moved--had dashed into the
+ballroom, now a maze of whirling figures--a polka having struck up to
+keep everybody occupied until the reel was finally made up.
+
+"Marse Talbot!--Marse Talbot!" All domestic training was cast aside, not
+a moment could be lost--"All on ye!--dey's murder outside--somebody go
+git de colonel!--Oh, Gawd!--somebody git 'im quick!"
+
+Few heard him and nobody paid any attention to his entreaties; nor
+could anybody, when they did listen, understand what he wanted--the men
+swearing under their breath, the girls indignant that he had blocked
+their way. Mrs. Rutter, who had seen his in-rush, sat aghast. Had Alec,
+too, given way, she wondered--old Alec who had had full charge of the
+wine cellar for years! But the old man pressed on, still shouting, his
+voice almost gone, his eyes bursting from his head.
+
+"Dey's gwineter murder Marse Harry--I seen 'em! Oh!--whar's de colonel!
+Won't somebody please--Oh, my Gawd!--dis is awful! Don't I tell ye dey's
+gwineter kill Marse Harry!"
+
+Mrs. Cheston, sitting beside Kate, was the only one who seemed to
+understand.
+
+"Alec!" she called in her imperious voice--"Alec!--come to me at once!
+What is the matter?"
+
+The old butler shambled forward and stood trembling, the tears streaming
+down his cheeks.
+
+"Yes, mum--I'm yere! Oh, can't ye git de colonel--ain't nobody else'll
+do--"
+
+"Is it a duel?"
+
+"Yes, mum! I jes' done see 'em! Dey's gwineter kill my Marse Harry!"
+
+Kate sprang up. "Where are they?" she cried, shivering with fear. The
+old man's face had told the story.
+
+"Out by de greenhouse--dey was measurin' off de groun'--dey's got de
+colonel's pistols--you kin see 'em from de winder!"
+
+In an instant she had parted the heavy silk curtains and lifted the
+sash. She would have thrown herself from it if Mrs. Cheston had not held
+her, although it was but a few feet from the ground.
+
+"Harry!" she shrieked--an agonizing shriek that reverberated through
+the ballroom, bringing everybody and everything to a stand-still. The
+dancers looked at each other in astonishment. What had happened? Who had
+fainted?
+
+The colonel now passed through the room. He had been looking after the
+proper handling of the famous Madeira, and had just heard that Alec
+wanted him, and was uncertain as to the cause of the disturbance. A
+woman's scream had reached his ears, but he did not know it was Kate's
+or he would have quickened his steps.
+
+Again Kate's voice pierced the room:
+
+"Harry! HARRY!"--this time in helpless agony. She had peered into the
+darkness made denser by the light rain, and had caught a glimpse of a
+man standing erect without his coat, the light of the torches bringing
+his figure into high relief--whose she could not tell, the bushes were
+so thick.
+
+The colonel brushed everybody aside and pulled Kate, half fainting, into
+the room. Then he faced Mrs. Cheston.
+
+"What has happened?" he asked sharply. "What is going on outside?"
+
+"Just what I told you. Those fools are out there trying to murder each
+other!"
+
+Two shots in rapid succession rang clear on the night air.
+
+The colonel stood perfectly still. No need to tell him now what had
+happened, and worse yet, no need to tell him what WOULD happen if
+he showed the slightest agitation. He was a cool man, accustomed to
+critical situations, and one who never lost his head in an emergency.
+Only a few years before he had stopped a runaway hunter, with a girl
+clinging to a stirrup, by springing straight at the horse's head and
+bringing them both to the ground unhurt. It only required the same
+instantaneous concentration of all his forces, he said to himself, as
+he gazed into old Alec's terror-stricken face framed by the open window.
+Once let the truth be known and the house would be in a panic--women
+fainting, men rushing out, taking sides with the combatants, with
+perhaps other duels to follow--Mrs. Rutter frantic, the ball suddenly
+broken up, and this, too, near midnight, with most of his guests ten
+miles and more from home.
+
+Murmurs of alarm were already reaching his ears: What was it?--who had
+fainted?--did the scream come from inside or outside the room?--what was
+the firing about?
+
+He turned to allay Kate's anxiety, but she had cleared the open window
+at a bound and was already speeding toward where she had seen the
+light on the man's shirt. For an instant he peered after her into the
+darkness, and then, his mind made up, closed the sash with a quick
+movement, flung together the silk curtains and raised his hand to
+command attention.
+
+"Keep on with the dance, my friends; I'll go and find out what has
+happened--but it's nothing that need worry anybody--only a little burnt
+powder. Alec, go and tell Mr. Grant, the overseer, to keep better order
+outside. In the meantime let everybody get ready for the Virginia reel;
+supper will be served in a few minutes. Will you young gentlemen please
+choose your partners, and will some one of you kindly ask the music to
+start up?"
+
+Slowly, and quite as if he had been called to the front door to welcome
+some belated guest, he walked the length of the room preceded by Alec,
+who, agonized at his master's measured delay, had forged ahead to open
+the door. This closed and they out of sight, the two hurried down the
+path.
+
+Willits lay flat on the ground, one arm stretched above his head. He
+had measured his full length, the weight of his shoulder breaking some
+flower-pots as he fell. Over his right eye gaped an ugly wound from
+which oozed a stream of blood that stained his cheek and throat. Dr.
+Teackle, on one knee, was searching the patient's heart, while Kate, her
+pretty frock soiled with mud, her hair dishevelled, sat crouched in the
+dirt rubbing his hands--sobbing bitterly--crying out whenever Harry,
+who was kneeling beside her, tried to soothe her:--"No!--No!--My heart's
+broken--don't speak to me--go away!"
+
+The colonel, towering above them, looked the scene over, then he
+confronted Harry, who had straightened to his feet on seeing his father.
+
+"A pretty piece of work--and on a night like this! A damnable piece of
+work, I should say, sir!... Has he killed him, Teackle?"
+
+The young doctor shook his head ominously.
+
+"I cannot tell yet--his heart is still beating."
+
+St. George now joined the group. He and Gilbert and the other seconds
+had, in order to maintain secrecy, been rounding up the few negroes who
+had seen the encounter, or who had been attracted to the spot by the
+firing.
+
+"Harry had my full consent, Talbot--there was really nothing else to do.
+Only an ounce of cold lead will do in some cases, and this was one of
+them." He was grave and deliberate in manner, but there was an infinite
+sadness in his voice.
+
+"He did--did he?" retorted the colonel bitterly. "YOUR full consent!
+YOURS! and I in the next room!" Here he beckoned to one of the negroes
+who, with staring eyeballs, stood gazing from one to the other. "Come
+closer, Eph--not a whisper, remember, or I'll cut the hide off your back
+in strips. Tell the others what I say--if a word of this gets into the
+big house or around the cabins I'll know who to punish. Now two or three
+of you go into the greenhouse, pick up one of those wide planks, and
+lift this gentleman onto it so we can carry him. Take him into my
+office, doctor, and lay him on my lounge. He'd better die there than
+here. Come, Kate--do you go with me. Not a syllable of this, remember,
+Kate, to Mrs. Rutter, or anybody else. As for you, sir"--and he looked
+Harry squarely in the face--"you will hear from me later on."
+
+With the same calm determination, he entered the ballroom, walked to the
+group forming the reel, and, with a set smile on this face indicating
+how idle had been everybody's fears, said loud enough to be heard by
+every one about him:
+
+"Only one of the men, my dear young people, who has been hurt in the
+too careless use of some firearms. As to dear Kate--she has been
+so upset--she happened unfortunately to see the affair from the
+window--that she has gone to her room and so you must excuse her for a
+little while. Now everybody keep on with the dance."
+
+With his wife he was even more at ease. "The same old root of all evil,
+my dear," he said with a dry laugh--"too much peach brandy, and this
+time down the wrong throats--and so in their joy they must celebrate by
+firing off pistols and wasting my good ammunition," an explanation
+which completely satisfied the dear lady--peach brandy being capable of
+producing any calamity, great or small.
+
+But this would not do for Mrs. Cheston. She was a woman who could be
+trusted and who never, on any occasion, lost her nerve. He saw from the
+way she lifted her eyebrows in inquiry, instead of framing her question
+in words, that she fully realized the gravity of the situation. The
+colonel looked at her significantly, made excuse to step in front of
+her, his back to the room, and with his forefinger tapping his forehead,
+whispered:
+
+"Willits."
+
+The old lady paled, but she did not change her expression.
+
+"And Harry?" she murmured in return.
+
+The colonel kept his eyes upon her, but he made no answer. A hard, cold
+look settled on his face--one she knew--one his negroes feared when he
+grew angry.
+
+Again she repeated Harry's name, this time in alarm:
+
+"Quick!--tell me--not killed?"
+
+"No--I wish to God he were!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+
+The wounded man lay on a lounge in the office room, which was dimly
+lighted by the dying glow of the outside torches and an oil lamp
+hurriedly brought in. No one was present except St. George, Harry, the
+doctor, and a negro woman who had brought in some pillows and hot water.
+All that could be done for him had been done; he was unconscious and his
+life hung by a thread. Harry, now that the mysterious thing called his
+"honor" had been satisfied, was helping Teackle wash the wound prior to
+an attempt to probe for the ball.
+
+The boy was crying quietly--the tears streaming unbidden down his
+cheeks--it was his first experience at this sort of thing. He had been
+brought up to know that some day it might come and that he must then
+face it, but he had never before realized the horror of what might
+follow. And yet he had not reached the stage of regret; he was sorry for
+the wounded man and for his suffering, but he was not sorry for his own
+share in causing it. He had only done his duty, and but for a stroke of
+good luck he and Willits might have exchanged places. Uncle George had
+expressed his feelings exactly when he said that only a bit of cold lead
+could settle some insults, and what insult could have been greater than
+the one for which he had shot Willits? What was a gentleman to do? Go
+around meeting his antagonist every day?--the two ignoring each other?
+Or was he to turn stable boy, and pound him with his fists?--or, more
+ridiculous still, have him bound over to keep the peace, or bring an
+action for--Bah!--for what?--Yes--for what? Willits hadn't struck
+him, or wounded him, or robbed him. It had been his life or Willits's.
+No--there was no other way--couldn't be any other way. Willits knew
+it when he tore up Kate's card--knew what would follow. There was no
+deception--nothing underhand. And he had got precisely what he deserved,
+sorry as he felt for his sufferings.
+
+Then Kate's face rose before him--haunted him. Why hadn't she seen
+it this way? Why had she refused to look at him--refused to answer
+him--driven him away from her side, in fact?--he who had risked his life
+to save her from insult! Why wouldn't she allow him to even touch
+her hand? Why did she treat Willits--drunken vulgarian as he
+was--differently from the way she had treated him? She had broken off
+her engagement with him because he was drunk at Mrs. Cheston's ball,
+where nobody had been hurt but himself, and here she was sympathizing
+with another drunken man who had not only outraged all sense of decency
+toward her, but had jeopardized the life of her affianced husband who
+defended her against his insults; none of which would have happened had
+the man been sober. All this staggered him.
+
+More astounding still was her indifference. She had not even asked if he
+had escaped unhurt, but had concentrated all her interest upon the
+man who had insulted her. As to his own father's wrath--that he had
+expected. It was his way to break out, and this he knew would continue
+until he realized the enormity of the insult to Kate and heard how he
+and St. George had tried to ward off the catastrophe. Then he would not
+only change his opinion, but would commend him for his courage.
+
+Outside the sick-room such guests as could be trusted were gathered
+together in the colonel's den, where they talked in whispers. All agreed
+that the ladies and the older men must be sent home as soon as possible,
+and in complete ignorance of what had occurred. If Willits lived--of
+which there was little hope--his home would be at the colonel's until
+he fully recovered, the colonel having declared that neither expense nor
+care would be spared to hasten his recovery. If he died, the body would
+be sent to his father's house later on.
+
+With this object in view the dance was adroitly shortened, the supper
+hurried through, and within an hour after midnight the last carriage and
+carryall of those kept in ignorance of the duel had departed, the only
+change in the programme being the non-opening of the rare old bottle
+of Madeira and the announcement of Harry's and Kate's engagement--an
+omission which provoked little comment, as it had been known to but few.
+
+Kate remained. She had tottered upstairs holding on to the hand-rail
+and had thrown herself on a bed in the room leading out of the
+dressing-room, where she lay in her mud-stained dress, the silken
+petticoat torn and bedraggled in her leap from the window. She was
+weeping bitterly, her old black mammy sitting beside her trying to
+comfort her as best she could.
+
+With the departure of the last guest--Mr. Seymour among them; the
+colonel doing the honors; standing bare-headed on the porch, his face
+all smiles as he bade them good-by--the head of the house of Rutter
+turned quickly on his heel, passed down the corridor, made his way along
+the long narrow hall, and entered his office, where the wounded man lay.
+Harry, the negro woman, and Dr. Teackle alone were with him.
+
+"Is there any change?" he asked in a perfectly even voice. Every vestige
+of the set smile of the host had left his face. Harry he did not even
+notice.
+
+"Not much--he is still alive," replied the doctor.
+
+"Have you found the ball?"
+
+"No--I have not looked for it--I will presently."
+
+The colonel moved out a chair and sat down beside the dying man, his
+eyes fixed on the lifeless face. Some wave of feeling must have swept
+through him, for after a half-stifled sigh, he said in a low voice, as
+if to himself:
+
+"This will be a fine story to tell his father, won't it?--and here
+too--under my roof. My God!--was there ever anything more disgraceful!"
+He paused for a moment, his eyes still on the sufferer, and then went
+on--this time to the doctor--"His living so long gives me some hope--am
+I right, Teackle?"
+
+The doctor nodded, but he made no audible reply. He had bent closer to
+the man's chest and was at the moment listening intently to the labored
+breathing, which seemed to have increased.
+
+Harry edged nearer to the patient, his eyes seeking for some move of
+life. All his anger had faded. Willits, his face ablaze with drink and
+rage, his eyes flashing, his strident voice ringing out--even Kate's
+shocked, dazed face, no longer filled his mind. It was the suffering
+man--trembling on the verge of eternity, shot to death by his own
+ball--that appealed to him. And then the suddenness of it all--less than
+an hour had passed since this tall, robust young fellow stood before him
+on the stairs, hanging upon every word that fell from Kate's lips--and
+here he lay weltering in his own blood.
+
+Suddenly his father's hopeful word to the doctor sounded in his ears.
+Suppose, after all, Willits SHOULD get well! Then Kate would understand
+and forgive him! As this thought developed in his mind his spirits
+rose. He scanned the sufferer the more intently, straining his neck,
+persuading himself that a slight twitching had crossed the dying man's
+face. Almost instantaneously the doctor rose to his feet.
+
+"Quick, Harry!--hand me that brandy! It's just as I hoped--the ball has
+ploughed outside the skull--the brain is untouched. It was the shock
+that stunned him. Leave the room everybody--you too, colonel--he'll come
+to in a minute and must not be excited."
+
+Harry sprang from his chair, a great surge of thankfulness rising in
+his heart, caught up the decanter, filled a glass and pressed it to the
+sufferer's lips. The colonel sat silent and unmoved. He had seen too
+many wounded men revive and then die to be unduly excited. That Willets
+still breathed was the only feature of his case that gave him any hope.
+
+Harry shot an inquiring glance at his father, and receiving only a cold
+stare in return, hurried from the room, his steps growing lighter as he
+ran. Kate must hear the good news and with the least possible delay. He
+would not send a message--he would go himself; then he could explain and
+relieve her mind. She would listen to his pleading. It was natural she
+should have been shocked. He himself had been moved to sympathy by the
+sufferer's condition--how much more dreadful, then, must have been the
+sight of the wounded man lying there among the flower-pots to a woman
+nurtured so carefully and one so sensitive in spirit! But it was all
+over--Willits would live--there would be a reconciliation--everything
+would be forgiven and everything forgotten.
+
+All these thoughts crowded close in his mind as he rushed up the stairs
+two steps at a time to where his sweetheart lay moaning out her heart.
+He tapped lightly and her old black mammy opened the door on a crack.
+
+"It's Marse Harry, mistis," she called back over her shoulder--"shall I
+let him come in?"
+
+"No!--no!--I don't want to see him; I don't want to see anybody--my
+heart is broken!" came the reply in half-stifled sobs.
+
+Harry, held at bay, rested his forehead against the edge of the door so
+his voice could reach her the better.
+
+"But Willits isn't going to die, Kate dear. I have just left him; it's
+only a scalp wound. Dr. Teackle says he's all right. The shock stunned
+him into unconsciousness."
+
+"Oh, I don't care what Dr. Teackle says! It's you, Harry!--You! You
+never once thought of me--Oh, why did you do it?"
+
+"I did think of you, Kate! I never thought of anything else--I am not
+thinking of anything else now."
+
+"Oh, to think you tried to murder him! You, Harry--whom I loved so!" she
+sobbed.
+
+"It was for you, Kate! You heard what he said--you saw it all. It was
+for you--for nobody else--for you, my darling! Let me come in--let me
+hold you close to me and tell you."
+
+"No!--NO--NO! My heart is broken! Come to me, mammy!"
+
+The door shut gently and left him on the outside, dazed at the outcry,
+his heart throbbing with tenderness and an intense, almost ungovernable
+impulse to force his way into the room, take her in his arms, and
+comfort her.
+
+The closed door brought him to his senses. To-morrow, after all, would
+be better, he confessed to himself humbly. Nothing more could be done
+to-night. Yes--to-morrow he would tell her all. He turned to descend the
+stairs and ran almost into Alec's arms. The old man was trembling with
+excitement and seemed hardly able to control himself. He had come in
+search of him, and had waited patiently at Kate's door for the outcome
+of the interview, every word of which he had overheard.
+
+"Marse Talbot done sont me fer ye, Marse Harry," he said in a low voice;
+"he wants ye in his li'l' room. Don't ye take no notice what de young
+mistis says; she ain't griebin' fer dat man. Dat Willits blood ain't no
+'count, nohow; dey's po' white trash, dey is--eve'ybody knows dat. Let
+Miss Kate cry herse'f out; dat's de on'y help now. Mammy Henny'll look
+arter her till de mawnin'"--to none of which did Harry make answer.
+
+When they reached the bottom step leading to the long hall the old man
+stopped and laid his hand on his young master's shoulder. His voice was
+barely audible and two tears stood in his eyes.
+
+"Don't you take no notice ob what happens to-night, son," he whispered.
+"'Member ye kin count on ol' Alec. Ain't neber gwineter be nothin' come
+'twixt me an' you, son. I ain't neber gwineter git tired lovin' ye--you
+won't fergit dat, will ye?"
+
+"No, Alec, but Mr. Willits will recover. Dr. Teackle has just said so."
+
+"Oh, dat ain't it, son--it's you, Marse Harry. Don't let 'em down
+ye--stand up an' fight 'em back."
+
+Harry patted the old servant tenderly on the arm to calm his fears. His
+words had made but little impression on him. If he had heard them at all
+he certainly did not grasp their import. What he was wanted for he could
+not surmise--nor did he much care. Now that Kate had refused to see him
+he almost wished that Willits's bullet had found its target.
+
+"Where did you say my father was, Alec?" he asked in a listless voice.
+
+"In his li'l' room, son; dey's all in dar, Marse George Temple, Mister
+Gilbert--dem two gemmans who stood up wid Mister Willits--dey's all
+dar. Don't mind what dey say, honey--jes' you fall back on ol' Alec. I
+dassent go in; maybe I'll be yere in de pantry so ye kin git hold o' me.
+I'se mos' crazy, Marse Harry--let me git hold oh yo' hand once mo', son.
+Oh, my Gawd!--dey sha'n't do nothin' to ye!"
+
+The boy took the old man's hand in his, patted it gently and resumed his
+walk. The least said the better when Alec felt like this. It was Kate's
+voice that pierced his ears--Kate's sobs that wrenched his heart: "You
+never thought of me!" Nothing else counted.
+
+Harry turned the handle of the door and stepped boldly in, his head
+erect, his eyes searching the room. It was filled with gentlemen, some
+sitting, some standing; not only those who had taken part in the duel,
+but three or four others who were in possession of the secret that lay
+heavy on everybody's mind.
+
+He looked about him: most of the candles had burned low in the socket;
+some had gone out. The few that still flickered cast a dim, ghostly
+light. The remains of the night's revel lay on the larger table and the
+serving tables:--a half empty silver dish of terrapin, caked over with
+cold grease; portion of a ham with the bone showing; empty and partly
+filled glasses and china cups from which the toddies and eggnog had
+been drunk. The smell of rum and lemons intermingled with the smoke of
+snuffed-out candle wicks greeted his nostrils--a smell he remembered for
+years and always with a shudder.
+
+There had evidently been a heated discussion, for his father was walking
+up and down the room, his face flushed, his black eyes blazing with
+suppressed anger, his plum-colored coat unbuttoned as if to give him
+more breathing space, his silk scarf slightly awry. St. George Temple
+must have been the cause of his wrath, for the latter's voice was
+reverberating through the room as Harry stepped in.
+
+"I tell you, Talbot, you shall not--you DARE not!" St. George was
+exclaiming, his voice rising in the intensity of his indignation. His
+face was set, his eyes blazing; all his muscles taut. He stood like an
+avenging knight guarding some pathway. Harry looked on in amazement--he
+had never seen his uncle like this before.
+
+The colonel wheeled about suddenly and raised his clenched hand. He
+seemed to be nervously unstrung and for a moment to have lost his
+self-control.
+
+"Stop, St. George!" he thundered. "Stop instantly! Not another word, do
+you hear me? Don't strain a friendship that has lasted from boyhood or
+I may forget myself as you have done. No man can tell me what I shall
+or shall not do when my honor is at stake. Never before has a Rutter
+disgraced himself and his blood. I am done with him, I tell you!"
+
+"But the man will get well!" hissed St. George, striding forward and
+confronting him. "Teackle has just said so--you heard him; we all heard
+him!"
+
+"That makes no difference; that does not relieve my son."
+
+Rutter had now become aware of Harry's presence. So had the others, who
+turned their heads in the boy's direction, but no one spoke. They had
+not the lifelong friendship that made St. George immune, and few of them
+would have dared to disagree with Talbot Rutter in anything.
+
+"And now, sir"--here the colonel made a step towards where Harry stood,
+the words falling as drops of water fall on a bared head--"I have
+sent for you to tell you just what I have told these gentlemen. I have
+informed them openly because I do not wish either my sense of honor or
+my motives to be misunderstood. Your performances to-night have been so
+dastardly and so ill-bred as to make it impossible for me ever to live
+under the same roof with you again." Harry started and his lips parted
+as if to speak, but he made no sound. "You have disgraced your blood and
+violated every law of hospitality. Mr. Willits should have been as safe
+here as you would have been under his father's roof. If he misbehaved
+himself you could have ordered his carriage and settled the affair next
+day, as any gentleman of your standing would have done. I have sent for
+a conveyance to take you wherever you may wish to go." Then, turning to
+St. George, "I must ask you, Temple, to fill my place and see that these
+gentlemen get their proper carriages, as I must join Mrs. Rutter, who
+has sent for me. Good-night," and he strode from the room.
+
+Harry stared blankly into the faces of the men about him: first at St.
+George and then at the others--one after another--as if trying to read
+what was passing in their minds. No one spoke or moved. His father's
+intentions had evidently been discussed before the boy's arrival and
+the final denunciation had, therefore, been received with less of the
+deadening effect than it had produced on himself. Nor was it a surprise
+to old Alec, who despite his fears had followed Harry noiselessly into
+the room, and who had also overheard the colonel's previous outbreak as
+to his intended disposition of his young master.
+
+St. George, who during the outburst had stood leaning against the
+mantel, his eyes riveted on Harry, broke the silence.
+
+"That, gentlemen," he exclaimed, straightening to his feet, one hand
+held high above his head, "is the most idiotic and unjust utterance that
+ever fell from Talbot Rutter's lips! and one he will regret to his dying
+day. This boy you all know--most of you have known him from childhood,
+and you know him, as I do, to be the embodiment of all that is brave
+and truthful. He is just of age--without knowledge of the world, his
+engagement to Kate Seymour, as some of you are aware, was to be made
+known to-night. Willits was drunk or he would not have acted as he did.
+I saw it coming and tried to stop him. That he was drunk was Rutter's
+own fault, with his damned notions of drowning everybody in drink
+every minute of the day and night. I saw the whole affair and heard the
+insult, and it was wholly unprovoked. Harry did just what was right, and
+if he hadn't I'd either have made Willits apologize or I would have shot
+him myself the moment the affair could have been arranged, no
+matter where we were. I know perfectly well"--here he swept his eyes
+around--"that there is not a man in this room who does not feel as I do
+about Rutter's treatment of this boy, and so I shall not comment further
+upon it." He dropped his clenched hand and turned to Harry, his voice
+still clear and distinct but with a note of tenderness through it. "And
+now, that pronunciamentos are in order, my boy, here is one which has
+less of the Bombastes Furioso in it than the one you have just listened
+to--but it's a damned sight more humane and a damned sight more
+fatherly, and it is this:--hereafter you belong to me--you are my son,
+my comrade, and, if I ever have a dollar to give to any one, my heir.
+And now one thing more, and I don't want any one of you gentlemen within
+sound of my voice ever to forget it: When hereafter any one of you
+reckon with Harry you will please remember that you reckon with me."
+
+He turned suddenly. "Excuse me one moment, gentlemen, and I will then
+see that you get your several carriages. Alec!--where's Alec?"
+
+The old darky stepped out of the shadow. "I'm yere, sah."
+
+"Alec, go and tell Matthew to bring my gig to the front porch--and be
+sure you see that your young master's heavy driving-coat is put inside.
+Mr. Harry spends the night with me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+
+The secrecy enjoined upon everybody conversant with the happenings at
+Moorlands did not last many hours. At the club, across dinner tables, at
+tea, on the street, and in the libraries of Kennedy Square, each
+detail was gone over, each motive discussed. None of the facts were
+exaggerated, nor was the gravity of the situation lightly dismissed.
+Duels were not so common as to blunt the sensibilities. On the contrary,
+they had begun to be generally deplored and condemned, a fact largely
+due to the bitterness resulting from a famous encounter which had taken
+place a year or so before between young Mr. Cocheran, the son of a rich
+landowner, and Mr. May--the circumstances being somewhat similar, the
+misunderstanding having arisen at a ball in Washington over a reigning
+belle, during which Mr. May had thrown his card in Cocheran's face. In
+this instance all the requirements of the code were complied with.
+The duel was fought in an open space behind Nelson's Hotel, near the
+Capitol, Mr. Cocheran arriving at half-past five in the morning in a
+magnificent coach drawn by four white horses, his antagonist reaching
+the grounds in an ordinary conveyance, the seconds and the two surgeons
+on horseback. Both fired simultaneously, with the result that May
+escaped unhurt, while Cocheran was shot through the head and instantly
+killed.
+
+Public opinion, indeed, around Kennedy Square, was, if the truth be
+told, undergoing many and serious changes. For not only the duel but
+some other of the traditional customs dear to the old regime were
+falling into disrepute--especially the open sideboards, synonymous
+with the lavish hospitality of the best houses. While most of the older
+heads, brought up on the finer and rarer wines, knew to a glass the
+limit of their endurance, the younger bloods were constantly losing
+control of themselves, a fact which was causing the greatest anxiety
+among the mothers of Kennedy Square.
+
+This growing antipathy had been hastened and solidified by another
+tragedy quite as widely discussed as the Cocheran and May duel--more so,
+in fact, since this particular victim of too many toddies had been the
+heir of one of the oldest residents about Kennedy Square--a brilliant
+young surgeon, self-exiled because of his habits, who had been thrown
+from his horse on the Indian frontier--an Iowa town, really--shattering
+his leg and making its amputation necessary. There being but one other
+man in the rough camp who had ever seen a knife used--and he but a
+student--the wounded surgeon had directed the amputation himself, even
+to the tying of the arteries and the bandages and splints. Only then did
+he collapse. The hero--and he was a hero to every one who knew of his
+coolness and pluck, in spite of his recognized weakness--had returned to
+his father's house on Kennedy Square on crutches, there to consult some
+specialists, the leg still troubling him. As the cripple's bedroom was
+at the top of the first flight of stairs, the steps of which--it being
+summer--were covered with China matting, he was obliged to drag himself
+up its incline whenever he was in want of something he must fetch
+himself. One of these necessities was a certain squat bottle like those
+which had graced the old sideboards. Half a dozen times a day would he
+adjust his crutches, their steel points preventing his slipping, and
+mount the stairs to his room, one step at a time.
+
+Some months after, when the matting was taken up, the mother took her
+youngest boy--he was then fifteen--to the steps:
+
+"Do you see the dents of your brother's crutches?--count them. Every one
+was a nail in his coffin." They were--for the invalid died that winter.
+
+These marked changes in public opinion, imperceptible as they had been
+at first, were gradually paving the way, it may be said, for the dawn
+of that new order of things which only the wiser and more farsighted
+men--men like Richard Horn--were able to discern. While many of the old
+regime were willing to admit that the patriarchal life, with the negro
+as the worker and the master as the spender, had seen its best days, but
+few of them, at the period of these chronicles, realized that the genius
+of Morse, Hoe, and McCormick, and a dozen others, whose inventions were
+just beginning to be criticised, and often condemned, were really the
+chief factors in the making of a new and greater democracy: that the
+cog, the drill, the grate-bar, and the flying shuttle would ere long
+supplant the hoe and the scythe; and that when the full flood of this
+new era was reached their old-time standards of family pride, reckless
+hospitality, and even their old-fashioned courtesy would well-nigh be
+swept into space. The storm raised over this and the preceding duel had
+they but known it, was but a notch in the tide-gauge of this flood.
+
+"I understand, St. George, that you could have stopped that disgraceful
+affair the other night if you had raised your hand," Judge Pancoast
+had blurted out in an angry tone at the club the week following. "I did
+raise it, judge," replied St. George, calmly drawing off his gloves.
+
+"They don't say so--they say you stood by and encouraged it."
+
+"Quite true," he answered in his dryest voice. "When I raised my hand it
+was to drop my handkerchief. They fired as it fell."
+
+"And a barbarous and altogether foolish piece of business, Temple.
+There is no justification for that sort of thing, and if Rutter wasn't
+a feudal king up in his own county there would be trouble over it. It's
+God's mercy the poor fellow wasn't killed. Fine beginning, isn't it, for
+a happy married life?"
+
+"Better not have any wife at all, judge, than wed a woman whose good
+name you are afraid to defend with your life. There are some of us who
+can stand anything but that, and Harry is built along the same lines. A
+fine, noble, young fellow--did just right and has my entire confidence
+and my love. Think it over, judge," and he strolled into the card-room,
+picked up the morning paper, and buried his face in its columns, his
+teeth set, his face aflame with suppressed disgust at the kind of blood
+running in the judge's veins.
+
+The colonel's treatment of his son also came in for heated discussion.
+Mrs. Cheston was particularly outspoken. Such quixotic action on the
+ground of safeguarding the rights of a young drunkard like Willits,
+who didn't know when he had had enough, might very well do for a
+self-appointed autocrat like Rutter, she maintained, but some equally
+respectable people would have him know that they disagreed with him.
+
+"Just like Talbot Rutter," she exclaimed in her outspoken, decided
+way--"no sense of proportion. High-tempered, obstinate as a mule, and
+a hundred years--yes, five hundred years behind his time. And he--could
+have stopped it all too if he had listened to me. Did you ever hear
+anything so stupid as his turning Harry--the sweetest boy who ever
+lived--out of doors, and in a pouring rain, for doing what he would have
+done himself! Oh, this is too ridiculous--too farcical. Why, you can't
+conceive of the absurdity of it all--nobody can! Gilbert was there and
+told me every word of it. You would have thought he was a grand duke or
+a pasha punishing a slave--and the funniest thing about it is that he
+believes he is a pasha. Oh--I have no patience with such contemptible
+family pride, and that's what is at the bottom of it."
+
+Some of the back county aristocrats, on the other hand--men who lived by
+themselves, who took their cue from Alexander Hamilton, Lee, and Webb,
+and believed in the code as the only means of arbitrating a difficulty
+of any kind between gentlemen--stoutly defended the Lord of Moorlands.
+
+"Rutter did perfectly right to chuck the young whelp out of doors.
+Outrageous, sir--never is done--nothing less than murder. Ought to be
+prosecuted for challenging a man under his own roof--and at night too.
+No toss-up for position, no seconds except a parcel of boys. Vulgar,
+sir--infernally vulgar, sir. I haven't the honor of Colonel Rutter's
+acquaintance--but if I had I'd tell him so--served the brat right--damn
+him!"
+
+Richard Horn was equally emphatic, but in a far different way. Indeed he
+could hardly restrain himself when discussing it.
+
+"I can think of nothing my young boy Oliver would or could do when he
+grows up," he exclaimed fiercely--his eyes flashing, "which would shut
+him out of his home and his dear mother's care. The duel is a relic of
+barbarism and should be no longer tolerated; it is mob law, really,
+and indefensible, with two persons defying the statutes instead of a
+thousand. But Rutter is the last man in the world to take the stand he
+has, and I sincerely regret his action. There are many bitter days ahead
+of him."
+
+Nor were the present conditions, aspirations, and future welfare of the
+two combatants, and of the lovely girl over whom they had quarrelled,
+neglected by the gossipers. No day passed without an extended discussion
+of their affairs. Bearers of fresh news were eagerly welcomed both to
+toddy and tea tables.
+
+Old Morris Murdoch, who knew Willits's father intimately, being a strong
+Clay man himself, arrived at one of these functions with the astounding
+information that Willits had called on Miss Seymour, wearing his hat in
+her presence to conceal his much-beplastered head. That he had then
+and there not only made her a most humble apology for his ill-tempered
+outbreak, which he explained was due entirely to a combination of
+egg-and-brandy, with a dash of apple-toddy thrown in, but had declared
+upon his honor as a gentleman that he would never again touch
+the flowing bowl. Whereupon--(and this excited still greater
+astonishment)--the delighted young lady had not only expressed her
+sympathy for his misfortunes, but had blamed herself for what had
+occurred!
+
+Tom Tilghman, a famous cross-country rider, who had ridden in post haste
+from his country seat near Moorlands to tell the tale--as could be seen
+from his boots, which were still covered with mud--boldly asserted of
+his own knowledge that the wounded man, instead of seeking his native
+shore, as was generally believed, would betake himself to the Red
+Sulphur Springs (where Kate always spent the summer)--accompanied by
+three saddle horses, two servants, some extra bandages, and his devoted
+sister, there to regain what was left of his health and strength. At
+which Judge Pancoast had retorted--and with some heat--that Willits
+might take a dozen saddle horses and an equal number of sisters, and
+a bale of bandages if he were so minded, to the Springs, or any other
+place, but he would save time and money if he stayed at home and looked
+after his addled head, as no woman of Miss Seymour's blood and breeding
+could possibly marry a man whose family escutcheon needed polishing as
+badly as did his manners. That the fact--the plain, bold fact--and here
+the judge's voice rose to a high pitch--was that Willits was boiling
+drunk until Harry's challenge sobered him, and that Kate hated
+drunkenness as much as did Harry's mother and the other women who had
+started out to revolutionize society.
+
+What that young lady herself thought of it all not even the best-posted
+gossip in the club dared to venture an opinion. Moreover, such was
+the respect and reverence in which she was held, and so great was the
+sympathy felt for her situation, that she was seldom referred to in
+connection with Harry or the affair except with a sigh, followed by
+a "Too bad, isn't it?--enough to break your heart," and such like
+expressions.
+
+What the Honorable Prim thought of it all was apparent the next day at
+the club when he sputtered out with:
+
+"Here's a nice mess for a man of my position to find himself in! Do you
+know that I am now pointed out as the prospective father-in-law of a
+young jackanapes who goes about with a glass of grog in one hand and a
+pistol in the other. I am not accustomed to having my name bandied about
+and I won't have it--I live a life of great simplicity, minding my own
+business, and I want everybody else to mind theirs. The whole affair
+is most contemptible and ridiculous and smacks of the tin-armor age.
+Willits should have been led quietly out of the room and put to bed
+and young Rutter should have been reprimanded publicly by his father.
+Disgraceful on a night like that when my daughter's name was on
+everybody's lips."
+
+After which outburst he had shut himself up in his house, where, so he
+told one of his intimates, he intended to remain until he left for the
+Red Sulphur Springs, which he would do several weeks earlier than was
+his custom--a piece of news which not only confirmed Tom Tilghman's
+gossip, but lifted several eyebrows in astonishment and set one or two
+loose tongues to wagging.
+
+Out at Moorlands, the point of view varied as the aftermath of the
+tragedy developed, the colonel alone pursuing his daily life without
+comment, although deep down in his heart a very maelstrom was boiling
+and seething.
+
+Mrs. Rutter, as fate would have it, on hearing that Kate was too ill
+to go back to town, had gone the next morning to her bedside, where she
+learned for the first time not only of the duel--which greatly shocked
+her, leaving her at first perfectly limp and helpless--but of Harry's
+expulsion from his father's house--(Alec owned the private wire)--a
+piece of news which at first terrified and then keyed her up as tight as
+an overstrung violin. Like many another Southern woman, she might shrink
+from a cut on a child's finger and only regain her mental poise by
+a liberal application of smelling salts, but once touch that boy of
+hers--the child she had nourished and lived for--and all the rage of the
+she-wolf fighting for her cub was aroused. What took place behind the
+closed doors of her bedroom when she faced the colonel and flamed out,
+no one but themselves knew. That the colonel was dumfounded--never
+having seen her in any such state of mind--goes without saying. That he
+was proud of her and liked her the better for it, is also true--nothing
+delighted him so much as courage;--but nothing of all this, impressive
+as it was, either weakened or altered his resolve.
+
+Nor did he change front to his friends and acquaintances: his
+honorable name, he maintained, had been trailed in the mud; his boasted
+hospitality betrayed; his house turned into a common shamble. That his
+own son was the culprit made the pain and mortification the greater, but
+it did not lessen his responsibility to his blood. Had not Foscari, to
+save his honor, in the days of the great republic, condemned his own son
+Jacopo to exile and death? Had not Virginius slain his daughter? Should
+he not protect his own honor as well? Furthermore, was not the young
+man's father a gentleman of standing--a prominent man in the State--a
+friend not only of his own friend, Henry Clay, but of the governor as
+well? He, of course, would not have Harry marry into the family had
+there been a marriageable daughter, but that was no reason why Mr.
+Willits's only son should not be treated with every consideration. He,
+Talbot Rutter, was alone responsible for the honor of his house. When
+your right hand offends you cut it off. His right hand HAD offended him,
+and he HAD cut it off. Away, then, with the spinning of fine phrases!
+
+And so he let the hornets buzz--and they did swarm and buzz and sting.
+As long as his wrath lasted he was proof against their assaults--in fact
+their attacks only confirmed him in his position. It was when all this
+ceased, for few continued to remonstrate with him after they had heard
+his final: "I decline to discuss it with you, madame," or the more
+significant: "How dare you, sir, refer to my private affairs without my
+permission?"--it was, I say, when all this ceased, and when neither his
+wife, who after her first savage outbreak had purposely held her
+peace, nor any of the servants--not even old Alec, who went about
+with streaming eyes and a great lump in his throat--dared renew their
+entreaties for Marse Harry's return, that he began to reflect on his
+course.
+
+Soon the great silences overawed him--periods of loneliness when he
+sat confronting his soul, his conscience on the bench as judge; his
+affections a special attorney:--silences of the night, in which he would
+listen for the strong, quick, manly footstep and the closing of the door
+in the corridor beyond:--silences of the dawn, when no clatter of
+hoofs followed by a cheery call rang out for some one to take
+Spitfire:--silences of the breakfast table, when he drank his coffee
+alone, Alec tip-toeing about like a lost spirit. Sometimes his heart
+would triumph and he begin to think out ways and means by which the past
+could be effaced. Then again the flag of his pride would be raised aloft
+so that he and all the people could see, and the old hard look would
+once more settle in his face, the lips straighten and the thin fingers
+tighten. No--NO! No assassins for him--no vulgar brawlers--and it was
+at best a vulgar brawl--and this too within the confines of Moorlands,
+where, for five generations, only gentlemen had been bred!
+
+And yet, product as he was of a regime that worshipped no ideals but
+its own; hide-bound by the traditions of his ancestry; holding in secret
+disdain men and women who could not boast of equal wealth and lineage;
+dictatorial, uncontradictable; stickler for obsolete forms and
+ceremonies--there still lay deep under the crust of his pride the heart
+of a father, and, by his standards, the soul of a gentleman.
+
+What this renegade son of his thought of it all; this disturber of his
+father's sleeping and waking hours, was far easier to discover. Dazed as
+Harry had been at the parental verdict and heart-broken as he still was
+over the dire results, he could not, though he tried, see what else he
+could have done. His father, he argued to himself, had shot and killed
+a man when he was but little older than himself, and for an offence much
+less grave than Willits's insult to Kate: he had frequently boasted of
+it, showing him the big brass button that had deflected the bullet and
+saved his life. So had his Uncle George, five years before--not a dead
+man that time, but a lame one--who was still limping around the club and
+very good friends the two, so far as he knew. Why then blame HIM? As
+for the law of hospitality being violated, that was but one of the
+idiosyncrasies of his father, who was daft on hospitality. How could
+Willits be his guest when he was his enemy? St. George had begged the
+wounded man to apologize; if he had done so he would have extended
+his hand and taken him to Kate, who, upon a second apology, would have
+extended her hand, and the incident would have been closed. It was
+Willits's stubbornness and bad breeding, then, that had caused the
+catastrophe--not his own bullet.
+
+Besides no real harm had been done--that is, nothing very serious.
+Willits had gained strength rapidly--so much so that he had sat up the
+third day. Moreover, he had the next morning been carried to one of the
+downstairs bedrooms, where, he understood, Kate had sent her black mammy
+for news of him, and where, later on, he had been visited by both Mrs.
+Rutter and Kate--a most extraordinary condescension on the young girl's
+part, and one for which Willits should be profoundly grateful all the
+days of his life.
+
+Nor had Willits's people made any complaint; nor, so far as he could
+ascertain, had any one connected with either the town or county
+government started an investigation. It was outside the precincts of
+Kennedy Square, and, therefore, the town prosecuting attorney (who
+had heard every detail at the Chesapeake from St. George) had not been
+called upon to act, and it was well known that no minion of the law in
+and about Moorlands would ever dare face the Lord of the Manor in any
+official capacity.
+
+Why, then, had he been so severely punished?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+
+While all this talk filled the air it is worthy of comment that after
+his denunciation of Pancoast's views at the club, St. George never
+again discussed the duel and its outcome. His mind was filled with more
+important things:--one in particular--a burning desire to bring the
+lovers together, no matter at what cost nor how great the barriers. He
+had not, despite his silence, altered a hair-line of the opinion he had
+held on the night he ordered the gig, fastened Harry's heavy coat around
+the young man's shoulders, and started back with him through the rain
+to his house on Kennedy Square; nor did he intend to. This, summed up,
+meant that the colonel was a tyrant, Willits a vulgarian, and Harry a
+hot-headed young knight, who, having been forced into a position where
+he could neither breathe nor move, had gallantly fought his way out.
+
+The one problem that gave him serious trouble was the selection of the
+precise moment when he should make a strategic move on Kate's heart;
+lesser problems were his manner of approaching her and the excuses
+he would offer for Harry's behavior. These not only kept him awake at
+night, but pursued him like an avenging spirit when he sought the quiet
+paths of the old square, the dogs at his heels. The greatest of all
+barriers, he felt assured, would be Kate herself. He had seen enough of
+her in that last interview, when his tender pleading had restored the
+harmonies between herself and Harry, to know that she was no longer the
+child whose sweetness he loved, or the girl whose beauty he was proud
+of--but the woman whose judgment he must satisfy. Nor could he see that
+any immediate change in her mental attitude was likely to occur. Some
+time had now passed since Harry's arrival at his house, and every day
+the boy had begged for admission at Kate's door, only to be denied by
+Ben, the old butler. His mother, who had visited her exiled son almost
+daily, had then called on her, bearing two important pieces of news--one
+being that after hours of pleading Harry had consented to return to
+Moorlands and beg his father's pardon, provided that irate gentleman
+should send for him, and the other the recounting of a message of
+condolence and sympathy which Willits had sent Harry from his sick-bed,
+in which he admitted that he had been greatly to blame. (An admission
+which fairly bubbled out of him when he learned that Harry had assisted
+Teackle in dressing his wound.)
+
+And yet with all this pressure the young girl had held her own. To every
+one outside the Rutter clan she had insisted that she was sorry for
+Harry, but that she could never marry a man whose temper she could
+not trust. She never put this into words in answering the well-meant
+inquiries of such girl friends as Nellie Murdoch, Sue Dorsey, and the
+others; then her eyes would only fill with tears as she begged them not
+to question her further. Nor had she said as much to her father, who on
+one occasion had asked her the plump question--"Do you still intend to
+marry that hot-head?"--to which she had returned the equally positive
+answer--"No, I never shall!" She reserved her full meaning for St.
+George when he should again entreat her--as she knew he would at the
+first opportunity--to forget the past and begin the old life once more.
+
+At the end of the second week St. George had made up his mind as to
+his course; and at the end of the third the old diplomat, who had dared
+defeat before, boldly mounted the Seymour steps. He would appeal to
+Harry's love for her, and all would be well. He had done so before,
+picturing the misery the boy was suffering, and he would try it again.
+If he could only reach her heart through the armor of her reserve she
+would yield.
+
+She answered his cheery call up the stairway in person, greeting him
+silently, but with arms extended, leading him to a seat beside her,
+where she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.
+
+"Harry has tried to see you every day, Kate," he began, patting her
+shoulders lovingly in the effort to calm her. "I found him under your
+window the other night; he walks the streets by the hour, then he
+comes home exhausted, throws himself on his bed, and lies awake till
+daylight."
+
+The girl raised her head and looked at him for a moment. She knew
+what he had come for--she knew, too, how sorry he felt for her--for
+Harry--for everybody who had suffered because of this horror.
+
+"Uncle George," she answered, choking back her tears, speaking slowly,
+weighing each word--"you've known me from a little girl--ever since my
+dear mother died. You have been a big brother to me many, many times and
+I love you for it. If I were determined to do anything that would
+hurt me, and you found it out in time, you would come and tell me so,
+wouldn't you?"
+
+St. George nodded his head in answer, but he did not interrupt. Her
+heart was being slowly unrolled before him, and he would wait until it
+was all bare.
+
+"Now," she continued, "the case is reversed, and you want me to do
+something which I know will hurt me."
+
+"But you love him, Kate?"
+
+"Yes--that is the worst part of it all," she answered with a stifled
+sob--"yes, I love him." She lifted herself higher on the cushions and
+put her beautiful arms above her head, her eyes looking into space as
+if she was trying to solve the problem of what her present resolve would
+mean to both herself and Harry.
+
+St. George began again: "And you remember how--"
+
+She turned impatiently and dropped one hand until it rested on his own.
+He thought he had never seen her look so lovely and never so unhappy.
+Then she said in pleading tones--her eyes blinded by half-restrained
+tears:
+
+"Don't ask me to REMEMBER, dear Uncle George--help me to forget! You can
+do no kinder thing for both of us."
+
+"But think of your whole future happiness, Kate--think how important it
+is to you--to Harry--to everybody--that you should not shut him out of
+your life."
+
+"I have thought! God knows I have thought until sometimes I think I
+shall go mad. He first breaks his promise about drinking and I forgive
+him; then he yields to a sudden impulse and behaves like a mad-man and
+you ask me to forgive him again. He never once thinks of me, nor of my
+humiliation!" Her lips were quivering, but her voice rang clear.
+
+"He thinks of nothing else BUT you," he pleaded. "Let your heart
+work--don't throw him into the street as his father has done. He loves
+you so."
+
+"_I_--throw HIM in the street! He has thrown ME--mortified me before
+everybody--behaved like a--No,--I can't--I won't discuss it!"
+
+"May I--"
+
+"No--not another word. I love you too much to let this come between us.
+Let us talk of something else--anything--ANYTHING."
+
+The whole chart of her heart had been unrolled. Her head and not her
+heart was dominant. He felt, moreover, that no argument of his would
+be of any use. Time might work out the solution, but this he could not
+hasten. Nor, if the truth be told, did he blame her. It was, from
+the girl's point of view, most unfortunate, of course, that the two
+calamities of Harry's drunkenness and the duel had come so close
+together. Perhaps--and for the first time in his life he weakened before
+her tears--perhaps if he had thrown the case of pistols out of the
+window, sent one man to his father and the other back to Kennedy Square,
+it might all have been different--but then again, could this have been
+done, and if it had been, would not all have to be done over again the
+next day? At last he asked hopelessly:
+
+"Have you no message for Harry?"
+
+"None," she answered resolutely.
+
+"And you will not see him?"
+
+"No--we can never heal wounds by keeping them open." This came calmly,
+and as if she had made up her mind, and in so determined a tone that he
+saw it meant an end to the interview.
+
+He rose from his seat and without another word turned toward the door.
+She gained her feet slowly, as if the very movement caused her pain; put
+her arms around his neck, kissed him on the cheek, followed him to the
+door, waved her hand to him as she watched him pick his way across the
+square, and threw herself on her lounge in an agony of tears.
+
+
+That night St. George and Harry sat by the smouldering wood fire; the
+early spring days were warm and joyous, but the nights were still cool.
+The boy sat hunched up in his chair, his face drawn into lines from the
+anxiety of the past week; his mind absorbed in the story that St. George
+had brought from the Seymour house. As in all ardent temperaments, these
+differences with Kate, which had started as a spark, had now developed
+into a conflagration which was burning out his heart. His love for Kate
+was not a part of his life--it was ALL of his life. He was ready now for
+any sacrifice, no matter how humiliating. He would go down on his knees
+to his father if she wished it. He would beg Willits's pardon--he would
+abase himself in any way St. George should suggest. He had done what
+he thought was right, and he would do it over again under like
+circumstances, but he would grovel at Kate's feet and kiss the ground
+she stepped on if she required it of him.
+
+St. George, who had sat quiet, examining closely the backs of his finely
+modelled hands as if to find some solution of the difficulty written in
+their delicate articulated curves, heard his outburst in silence.
+Now and then he would call to Todd, who was never out of reach of his
+voice--no matter what the hour--to replenish the fire or snuff the
+candles, but he answered only in nods and monosyllables to Harry. One
+suggestion only of the heart-broken lover seemed to promise any
+result, and that was his making it up with his father as his mother
+had suggested. This wall being broken down, and Willits no longer
+an invalid, perhaps Kate would see matters in a different and more
+favorable light.
+
+"But suppose father doesn't send for me, Uncle George, what will I do
+then?"
+
+"Well, he is your father, Harry."
+
+"And you think then I had better go home and have it out with him?"
+
+St. George hesitated. He himself would have seen Rutter in Hades before
+he would have apologized to him. In fact his anger choked him so every
+time he thought of the brutal and disgraceful scene he had witnessed
+when the boy had been ordered from his home, that he could hardly get
+his breath. But then Kate was not his sweetheart, much as he loved her.
+
+"I don't know, Harry. I am not his son," he answered in an undecided
+way. Then something the boy's mother had said rose in his mind: "Didn't
+your mother say that your father's loneliness without you was having its
+effect?--and wasn't her advice to wait until he should send for you?"
+
+"Yes--that was about it."
+
+"Well, your mother would know best. Put that question to her next time
+she comes in--I'm not competent to answer it. And now let us go to
+bed--you are tired out, and so am I."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+
+Mysterious things are happening in Kennedy Square. Only the very wisest
+men know what it is all about--black Moses for one, who tramps the brick
+walks and makes short cuts through the dirt paths, carrying his tin
+buckets and shouting: "Po' ole Moses--po' ole fellah! O-Y-S-T-E-R-S!
+O-Y-STERS!" And Bobbins, the gardener, who raked up last year's autumn
+leaves and either burned them in piles or spread them on the flower-beds
+as winter blankets. And, of course, Mockburn, the night watchman:
+nothing ever happens in and around Kennedy Square that Mockburn doesn't
+know of. Many a time has he helped various unsteady gentlemen up the
+steps of their houses and stowed them carefully and noiselessly away
+inside, only to begin his rounds again, stopping at every corner to
+drone out his "All's we-l-l!" a welcome cry, no doubt, to the stowaways,
+but a totally unnecessary piece of information to the inhabitants,
+nothing worse than a tippler's tumble having happened in the forty years
+of the old watchman's service.
+
+I, of course, am in the secret of the mysterious happenings and have
+been for more years than I care to admit, but then I go ten better than
+Mockburn. And so would you be in the secret had you watched the process
+as closely as I have done.
+
+It is always the same!
+
+First the crocuses peep out--dozens of crocuses. Then a spread of tulips
+makes a crazy-quilt of a flowerbed; next the baby buds, their delicate
+green toes tickled by the south wind, break into laughter. Then the
+stately magnolias step free of their pods, their satin leaves falling
+from their alabaster shoulders--grandes dames these magnolias! And then
+there is no stopping it: everything is let loose; blossoms of peach,
+cherry, and pear; flowers of syringa--bloom of jasmine, honeysuckle,
+and Virginia creeper; bridal wreath in flowers of white and wistaria in
+festoons of purple.
+
+Then come the roses--millions of roses; on single stalks; in clusters,
+in mobs; rushing over summer-houses, scaling fences, swarming up
+trellises--a riotous, unruly, irresistible, and altogether lovable lot
+these roses when they break loose!
+
+And the birds! What a time they are having--thrush, bobolinks,
+blackbirds, nightingales, woodpeckers, little pee-wees, all fluttering,
+skimming, chirping; bursting their tiny throats for the very joy of
+living. And they are all welcome--and it wouldn't make any difference to
+them if they hadn't been; they would have risked it anyway, so tempting
+are the shady paths and tangled arbors and wide-spreading elms and
+butternuts of Kennedy Square.
+
+Soon the skies get over weeping for the lost winter and dry their eyes,
+and the big, warm, happy sun sails over the tree-tops or drops to sleep,
+tired out, behind the old Seymour house, and the girls come out in their
+white dresses and silk sashes and the gallants in their nankeens and
+pumps and the old life of out-of-doors begins once more.
+
+
+And these are not the only changes that the coming of spring has
+wrought. What has been going on deep down in the tender, expectant
+hearts of root and bulb, eager for expression, had been at work in
+Harry's own temperament. The sunshine of St. George's companionship has
+already had its effect; the boy is thawing out; his shrinking shyness,
+born of his recent trouble, is disappearing like a morning frost. He is
+again seen at the club, going first under St. George's lee and then on
+his own personal footing.
+
+The Chesapeake, so St. George had urged upon him, was the centre of
+news--the headquarters, really, of the town, where not only the current
+happenings and gossip of Kennedy Square were discussed, but that of the
+country at large. While the bald-heads, of course, would be canvassing
+the news from Mexico, which was just beginning to have an ugly look, or
+having it out, hammer and tongs, over the defeat of Henry Clay, to
+which some rabid politicians had never become reconciled, the younger
+gentry--men of Harry's own tastes--would be deploring the poor showing
+the ducks were making, owing to the up-river freshets which had spoiled
+the wild celery; or recounting the doings at Mrs. Cheston's last ball;
+or the terrapin supper at Mr. Kennedy's, the famous writer; or perhaps
+bemoaning the calamity which had befallen some fellow member who had
+just found seven bottles out of ten of his most precious port corked
+and worthless. But whatever the topics, or whoever took sides in their
+discussion, none of it, so St. George argued, could fail to interest a
+young fellow just entering upon the wider life of a man of the world,
+and one, of all others, who needed constant companionship. Then again,
+by showing himself frequently within its walls, Harry would become
+better known and better liked.
+
+That he was ineligible for membership, being years too young, and that
+his continued presence, even as a guest, was against the rules, did not
+count in his case, or if it did count, no member, in view of what the
+lad had suffered, was willing to raise the question. Indeed, St. George,
+in first introducing him, had referred to "my friend, Mr. Rutter," as
+an "out of town guest," laughing as he did so, everybody laughing in
+return, and so it had gone at that.
+
+At first Harry had dreaded meeting his father's and his uncle's friends,
+most of whom, he fancied, might be disposed to judge him too harshly.
+But St. George had shut his ears to every objection, insisting that the
+club was a place where a man could be as independent as he pleased, and
+that as his guest he would be entitled to every consideration.
+
+The boy need not have been worried. Almost every member, young and
+old, showed by his manner or some little act of attention that their
+sympathies were with the exile. While a few strait-laced old Quakers
+maintained that it was criminal to blaze away at your fellow-man with
+the firm intention of blowing the top of his head off, and that
+Harry should have been hung had Willits died, there were others more
+discerning--and they were largely in the majority--who stood up for the
+lad however much they deplored the cause of his banishment. Harry, they
+argued, had in his brief career been an unbroken colt, and more or less
+dissipated, but he at least had not shown the white feather. Boy as he
+was, he had faced his antagonist with the coolness of a duellist of a
+score of encounters, letting Willits fire straight at him without so
+much as the wink of an eyelid; and, when it was all over, had been man
+enough to nurse his victim back to consciousness. Moreover--and this
+counted much in his favor--he had refused to quarrel with his irate
+father, or even answer him. "Behaved himself like a thoroughbred, as he
+is," Dorsey Sullivan, a famous duellist, had remarked in recounting the
+occurrence to a non-witness. "And I must say, sir, that Talbot
+served him a scurvy trick, and I don't care who hears me say it."
+Furthermore--and this made a great impression--that rather than
+humiliate himself, the boy had abandoned the comforts of his palatial
+home at Moorlands and was at the moment occupying a small, second-story
+back room (all, it is true, Gentleman George could give him), where he
+was to be found any hour of the day or night that his uncle needed him
+in attendance upon that prince of good fellows.
+
+One other thing that counted in his favor, and this was conclusive with
+the Quakers--and the club held not a few--was that no drop of liquor
+of any kind had passed the boy's lips since the eventful night when St.
+George prepared the way for their first reconciliation.
+
+Summed up, then, whatever Harry had been in the past, the verdict at
+the present speaking was that he was a brave, tender-hearted, truthful
+fellow who, in the face of every temptation, had kept his word.
+Moreover, it was never forgotten that he was Colonel Talbot Rutter's
+only son and heir, so that no matter what the boy did, or how angry the
+old autocrat might be, it could only be a question of time before his
+father must send for him and everything at Moorlands go on as before.
+
+
+It was on one of these glorious never-to-be-forgotten spring days, then,
+a week or more after St. George had given up the fight with Kate--a day
+which Harry remembered all the rest of his life--that he and his uncle
+left the house to spend the afternoon, as was now their custom, at the
+Chesapeake. The two had passed the early hours of the day at the Relay
+House fishing for gudgeons, the dogs scampering the hills, and having
+changed their clothes for something cooler, had entered the park by the
+gate opposite the Temple Mansion, as being nearest to the club; a path
+Harry loved, for he and Kate had often stepped it together--and then
+again, it was the shortest cut to her house.
+
+As the beauty and quiet of the place with its mottling of light and
+shade took possession of him he slackened his pace, lagging a little
+behind his uncle, and began to look about him, drinking in the
+loveliness of the season. The very air breathed tenderness, peace, and
+comfort. Certainly his father's heart must be softening toward him;
+surely his bitterness could not last. No word, it is true, had yet come
+to him from Moorlands, though only the week before his mother had
+been in to see him, bringing him news of his father and what her son's
+absence had meant to every one, old Alec especially. She had not, she
+said, revived the subject of the boy's apology; she had thought it
+better to wait for the proper opportunity, which might come any day,
+but certain it was that his father was most unhappy, for he would shut
+himself up hours at a time in his library, locking the door and refusing
+to open it, no matter who knocked, except to old John Gorsuch, his man
+of business. She had also heard him tossing on his bed at night, or
+walking about his room muttering to himself.
+
+Did these things, he wondered on this bright spring morning, mean a
+final reconciliation, or was he, after all, to be doomed to further
+disappointment? Days had passed since his mother had assured him of this
+change in his father, and still no word had come from him. Had he at
+last altered his mind, or, worse still, had his old obstinacy again
+taken possession of him, hardening his heart so that he would never
+relent? And so, with his mind as checkered as the shadow-flecked path on
+which they stepped, he pursued his way beneath the wide-spreading trees.
+
+When the two had crossed the street St. George's eye rested upon a group
+on the sidewalk of the club. The summer weather generally emptied
+the coffee-room of most of its habitues, sending many of them to the
+easy-chairs on the sprinkled pavement, one or two tipped back against
+the trees, or to the balconies and front steps. With his arm in Harry's
+he passed from one coterie to another in the hope that he might catch
+some word which would be interesting enough to induce him to fill one
+of the chairs, even for a brief half-hour, but nothing reached his
+ears except politics and crops, and he cared for neither. Harding--the
+pessimist of the club--a man who always had a grievance (and this time
+with reason, for the money stringency was becoming more acute every
+day), tried to beguile him into a seat beside him, but he shook
+his head. He knew all about Harding, and wanted none of his kind of
+talk--certainly not to-day.
+
+"Think of it!" he had heard the growler say to Judge Pancoast as he was
+about to pass his chair--"the Patapsco won't give me a cent to move my
+crops, and I hear all the others are in the same fix. You can't get a
+dollar on a house and lot except at a frightful rate of interest. I tell
+you everything is going to ruin. How the devil do you get on without
+money, Temple?" He was spread out in his seat, his legs apart, his fat
+face turned up, his small fox eyes fixed on St. George.
+
+"I don't get on," remarked St. George with a dry smile. He was still
+standing. "Why do you ask?" Money rarely troubled St. George; such small
+sums as he possessed were hived in this same Patapsco Bank, but the
+cashier had never refused to honor one of his checks as long as he had
+any money in their vaults, and he didn't think they would begin now.
+"Queer question for you to ask, Harding" (and a trifle underbred, he
+thought, one's private affairs not being generally discussed at a club).
+"Why does it interest you?"
+
+"Well, you always say you despise money and yet you seem happy and
+contented, well dressed, well groomed"--here he wheeled St.
+George around to look at his back--"yes, got on one of your London
+coats--Hello, Harry!--glad to see you," and he held out his hand to
+the boy. "But really, St. George, aren't you a little worried over the
+financial outlook? John Gorsuch says we are going to have trouble, and
+John knows."
+
+"No"--drawled St. George--"I'm not worried."
+
+"And you don't think we're going to have another smash-up?" puffed
+Harding.
+
+"No," said St. George, edging his way toward the steps of the club as
+he spoke. He was now entirely through with Harding; his financial
+forebodings were as distasteful to him as his comments on his clothes
+and bank account.
+
+"But you'll have a julep, won't you? I've just sent John for them. Don't
+go--sit down. Here, John, take Mr. Temple's order for--"
+
+"No, Harding, thank you." The crushed ice in the glass was no cooler nor
+crisper than St. George's tone. "Harry and I have been broiling in the
+sun all the morning and we are going to go where it is cool."
+
+"But it's cool here," Harding called after him, struggling to his feet
+in the effort to detain him. There was really no one in the club he
+liked better than St. George.
+
+"No--we'll try it inside," and with a courteous wave of his hand and a
+feeling of relief in his heart, he and Harry kept on their way.
+
+He turned to mount the steps when the sudden pushing back of all the
+chairs on the sidewalk attracted his attention. Two ladies were picking
+their way across the street in the direction of the club. These, on
+closer inspection, proved to be Miss Lavinia Clendenning and her niece,
+Sue Dorsey, who had been descried in the offing a few minutes before by
+the gallants on the curbstone, and who at first had been supposed to be
+heading for Mrs. Pancoast's front steps some distance away, until the
+pair, turning sharply, had borne down upon the outside chairs with all
+sails set--(Miss Clendenning's skirts were of the widest)--a shift of
+canvas which sent every man to his feet with a spring.
+
+Before St. George could reach the group, which he did in advance of
+Harry, who held back--both ladies being intimate friends of Kate's--old
+Captain Warfield, the first man to gain his feet--very round and fat was
+the captain and very red in the face (1812 Port)--was saying with his
+most courteous bow:
+
+"But, my dear Miss Lavinia, you have not as yet told us to what we are
+indebted for this mark of your graciousness; and Sue, my dear, you grow
+more like your dear mother every day. Why are you two angels abroad at
+this hour, and what can we do for you?"
+
+"To the simple fact, my dear captain," retorted the irresistible
+spinster, spreading her skirts the wider, both arms akimbo--her thin
+fingers acting as clothespins, "that Sue is to take her dancing lesson
+next door, and as I can't fly in the second-story window, having mislaid
+my wings, I must use my feet and disturb everybody. No, gentlemen--don't
+move--I can pass."
+
+The captain made so profound a salaam in reply that his hat grazed the
+bricks of the sidewalk.
+
+"Let me hunt for them, Miss Lavinia. I know where they are!" he
+exclaimed, with his hand on his heart.
+
+"Where?" she asked roguishly, twisting her head on one side with the
+movement of a listening bird.
+
+"In heaven, my lady, where they are waiting your arrival," he answered,
+with another profound sweep of his hand and dip of his back, his bald
+head glistening in the sunlight as he stooped before her.
+
+"Then you will never get near them," she returned with an equally low
+curtsy and a laugh that nearly shook her side curls loose.
+
+St. George was about to step the closer to take a hand in the
+badinage--he and the little old maid were forever crossing swords--when
+her eyes fell upon him. Instantly her expression changed. She was one of
+the women who had blamed him for not stopping the duel, and had been on
+the lookout for him for days to air her views in person.
+
+"So you are still in town, are you?" she remarked frigidly in lowered
+tones. "I thought you had taken that young firebrand down to the Eastern
+Shore to cool off."
+
+St. George frowned meaningly in the effort to apprise her ladyship that
+Harry was within hearing distance, but Miss Lavinia either did not, or
+would not, understand.
+
+"Two young boobies, that's what they are, breaking their hearts over
+each other," she rattled on, gathering the ends of her cape the closer.
+"Both of them ought to be spanked and put to bed. Get them into each
+other's arms just as quick as you can. As for Talbot Rutter, he's the
+biggest fool of the three, or was until Annie Rutter got hold of him.
+Now I hear he is willing to let Harry come back, as if that would do any
+good. It's Kate who must be looked after; that Scotch blood in her
+veins makes her as pig-headed as her father. No--I don't want your arm,
+sir--get out of my way."
+
+If the courtiers heard--and half of them did--they neither by word
+or expression conveyed that fact to Harry or St. George. It was not
+intended for their ears, and, therefore, was not their property. With
+still more profound salutations from everybody, the three bareheaded men
+escorted them to the next stoop, the fourth going ahead to see that the
+door was properly opened, and so the ladies passed on, up and inside
+the house. This over, the group resumed its normal condition on the
+sidewalk, the men regaining their seats and relighting their cigars (no
+gentleman ever held one in evidence when ladies were present)--fresh
+orders being given to the servants for the several interrupted mixtures
+with which the coterie were wont to regale themselves.
+
+Harry, who had stood with shoulders braced against a great tree on
+the sidewalk, had heard every word of the old maid's outburst, and an
+unrestrained burst of joy had surged up in his heart. His father was
+coming round! Yes--the tide was turning--it would not be long before
+Kate would be in his arms!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+
+St. George held no such sanguine view, although he made no comment.
+In fact the outbreak had rather depressed him. He knew something of
+Talbot's stubbornness and did not hope for much in that direction, nor,
+if the truth be told, did he hope much in Kate's. Time alone could heal
+her wounds, and time in the case of a young girl, mistress of herself,
+beautiful, independent, and rich, might contain many surprises.
+
+It was with a certain sense of relief, therefore, that he again sought
+the inside of the club. Its restful quiet would at least take his
+mind from the one subject which seemed to pursue him and which Miss
+Clendenning's positive and, as he thought, inconsiderate remarks had so
+suddenly revived.
+
+Before he had reached the top step his face broke out into a broad
+smile. Instantly his spirits rose. Standing in the open front door,
+with outstretched hand, was the man of all others he would rather have
+seen--Richard Horn, the inventor.
+
+"Ah, St. George, but I'm glad to see you!", cried Richard. "I have been
+looking for you all the afternoon and only just a moment ago got sight
+of you on the sidewalk. I should certainly have stepped over to
+your house and looked you up if you hadn't come. I've got the most
+extraordinary thing to read to you that you have ever listened to in the
+whole course of your life. How well you look, and what a fine color you
+have, and you too, Harry. You are in luck, my boy. I'd like to stay a
+month with Temple myself."
+
+"Make it a year, Richard," cried St. George, resting his hand
+affectionately on the inventor's shoulder. "There isn't a chair in
+my house that isn't happier when you sit in it. What have you
+discovered?--some new whirligig?"
+
+"No, a poem. Eighteen to twenty stanzas of glorious melody imprisoned in
+type."
+
+"One of your own?" laughed St. George--one of his merry vibrating laughs
+that made everybody happier about him. The sight of Richard had swept
+all the cobwebs out of his brain.
+
+"No, you trifler!--one of Edgar Allan Poe's. None of your scoffing, sir!
+You may go home in tears before I am through with you. This way, both of
+you."
+
+The three had entered the coffee-room now, Richard's arm through St.
+George's, Harry following close. The inventor drew out the chairs one
+after another, and when they were all three seated took a missive from
+his pocket and spread it out on his knee, St. George and Harry keeping
+their eyes on his every movement.
+
+"Here's a letter, St. George"--Richard's voice now fell to a serious
+key--"which I have just received from your friend and mine, Mr. N.
+P. Willis. In it he sends me this most wonderful poem cut from his
+paper--the Mirror--and published, I discover to my astonishment, some
+months back. I am going to read it to you if you will permit me. It
+certainly is a most remarkable production. The wonder to me is that I
+haven't seen it before. It is by that Mr. Poe you met at my house some
+years ago--you remember him?--a rather sad-looking man with big head and
+deep eyes?" Temple nodded in answer, and Harry's eyes glistened: Poe
+was one of his university's gods. "Just let me read to you what Willis
+says"--here he glanced down the letter sheet: "'Nothing, I assure you,
+my dear Horn, has made so great a stir in literary circles as this
+"Raven" of Poe's. I am sending it to you knowing that you are interested
+in the man. If I do not mistake I first met Poe one night at your
+house.' And a very extraordinary night it was, St. George," said
+Richard, lifting his eyes from the sheet. "Poe, if you remember, read
+one of his stories for us, and both Latrobe and Kennedy were so charmed
+that they talked of nothing else for days."
+
+St. George remembered so clearly that he could still recall the tones
+of Poe's voice, and the peculiar lambent light that flashed from out the
+poet's dark eyes--the light of a black opal. He settled himself back in
+his chair to enjoy the treat the better. This was the kind of talk he
+wanted to-day, and Richard Horn, of all others, was the man to conduct
+it.
+
+The inventor's earnestness and the absorbed look on St. George's and
+Harry's faces, and the fact that Horn was about to read aloud, had
+attracted the attention of several near-by members, who were already
+straining their ears, for no one had Richard's gift for reading.
+
+In low, clear tones, his voice rising in intensity as the weird pathos
+of the several stanzas gripped his heart, he unfolded the marvellous
+drama until the very room seemed filled with the spirit of both the man
+and the demon. Every stanza in his clear enunciation seemed a separate
+string of sombre pearls, each syllable aglow with its own inherent
+beauty. When he ceased it was as if the soul of some great 'cello had
+stopped vibrating, leaving only the memory of its melody. For a few
+seconds no one moved nor spoke. No one had ever heard Richard in finer
+voice nor had they ever listened to more perfect rhythmic beauty. So
+great was the effect on the audience that one old habitue, in speaking
+of it afterward, insisted that Richard must have seen the bird roosting
+over the door, so realistic was his rendering.
+
+Harry had listened with bated breath, absorbing every tone and
+inflection of Richard's voice. He and Poe had been members of the same
+university, and the poet had always been one of his idols--the man of
+all others he wanted most to know. Poe's former room opening into the
+corridor had invariably attracted him. He had frequently looked about
+its bare walls wondering how so great an inspiration could have
+started from such meagre surroundings. He had, too, with the romantic
+imagination of a boy, pictured to himself the kind of man he was, his
+looks, voice, and manner, and though he had never seen the poet in the
+flesh, somehow the tones of Richard's voice recalled to him the very
+picture he had conjured up in his mind in his boyhood days.
+
+St. George had also listened intently, but the impression was quite
+different from the one made on the younger man. Temple thought only of
+Poe's despondency, of his striving for a better and happier life; of his
+poverty--more than once had he gone down into his own pockets to relieve
+the poor fellow's urgent necessities, and he was still ready to do
+it again--a readiness in which he was almost alone, for many of the
+writer's earlier friends had of late avoided meeting him whenever he
+passed through Kennedy Square. Even Kennedy, his life-long friend, had
+begun to look upon him as a hopeless case.
+
+This antipathy was also to be found in the club. Even with the memory
+of Richard's voice in their ears one of the listeners had shrugged his
+shoulders, remarking with a bitter laugh that musical as was the poem,
+especially as rendered by Richard, it was, after all, like most of Poe's
+other manuscripts, found in a bottle, or more likely "a bottle found
+in a manuscript," as that crazy lunatic couldn't write anything worth
+reading unless he was half drunk. At which St. George had blazed out:
+
+"Hush, Bowdoin! You ought to be willing to be blind drunk half your time
+if you could write one stanza of it! Please let me have it, Richard,"
+and he took the sheet from his friend's hand, that he and Harry might
+read it at their leisure when they reached home.
+
+Harry's blood had also boiled at the rude thrust. While under the spell
+of Richard's voice a cord in his own soul had vibrated as does a glass
+globe when it responds in perfect harmony to a note from a violin.
+He too had a Lenore whose loss had wellnigh broken his heart. This
+in itself was an indissoluble bond between them. Besides, he could
+understand the poet as Alec and his mother and his Uncle George
+understood himself. He had begun now to love the man in his heart.
+
+With his mind filled with these thoughts, his hunger for Kate aroused
+tenfold by the pathos and weird beauty of what he had just heard, he
+left the group of men who were still discussing the man and his verses,
+and joined his uncle outside on the top step of the club's high stoop,
+from which could be seen the full length of the sun-flecked street
+on which the clubhouse stood, as well as the park in all its spring
+loveliness.
+
+Unconsciously his eyes wandered across the path where Kate's house
+stood. He could see the tall chimneys and the slope of the quaint roof,
+and but that the foliage hid the lower part, could have seen Kate's own
+windows. She was still at home, he had heard, although she was expected
+to leave for the Red Sulphur any day.
+
+Suddenly, from away up the street, past the corner of the park, there
+reached his ears a low winding note, which grew louder as it turned
+the corner, followed by the rattle of wheels and the clatter of horses'
+feet. He leaned forward and craned his head in the direction of the
+sound, his heart in his throat, the blood mounting to his cheeks. If
+that was not his father's horn it was wonderfully like it. At the
+same moment a coach-and-four swept in sight, driven by a man in a
+whitey-brown coat and stiff furry hat, with two grooms behind and a
+coachman next to him on the box. It was heading straight for the club.
+
+Every man was on his feet.
+
+"By Jove!--it's Rutter. Bowdoin!--Clayton!--here comes the colonel!"
+
+Again the horn gave out a long withering, wiry note ringing through the
+leaves and along the brick pavement, and the next instant the leaders
+were gathered up, the wheel-horses hauled taut, the hub of the front
+wheel of the coach halting within an inch of the horse-block of the
+club.
+
+"Bravo, Rutter! Best whip in the county! Not a man in England could have
+done it better. Let me help you down!"
+
+The colonel shook his head good-humoredly, rose in his seat, shifted a
+bunch of violets to his inner lapel, slipped off his driving-coat, threw
+it across the rail, dropped his whip in the socket, handed his heavy
+gloves to his groom, and slid gracefully to the sidewalk. There he shook
+hands cordially with the men nearest him, excused himself for a moment
+until he had inspected his off leader's forefoot--she had picked up a
+stone on the way in from Moorlands--patted the nigh wheel-horse, stamped
+his own feet lustily as if to be sure he was all there, and, with a
+lordly bow to those about him, slowly mounted the steps of the club.
+
+Harry had already risen to his feet and stood trembling, one hand
+clutching the iron railing that guarded the marble steps. A great throb
+of joy welled up in his throat. His mother was right--the loneliness
+had overpowered his father; he still loved him, and Miss Clendenning's
+prediction was coming true! Not only was he willing to forgive him, but
+he had come himself to take him home. He could hardly wait until his
+father reached his side, so eager was he to open his arms and hands and
+his lips in apology--and Kate!--what joy would be hers!
+
+St. George had also gained his feet. What had brought the colonel into
+town, he said to himself, and in such state--and at this hour of the
+day, too? Could it be that Harry was the cause?
+
+"How were the roads, Talbot?" he called out in his customary cheery
+tones. He would start fair, anyway.
+
+The colonel, who, head down, had been mounting the marble steps one at
+a time, inspecting each slab as he climbed, after the manner of men
+thoroughly satisfied with themselves, and who at the same time are
+conscious of the effect of their presence on those about them, raised
+his head and gazed in astonishment at the speaker. Then his body
+straightened up and he came to a stand-still. He looked first into St.
+George's face, then into Harry's, with a cold, rigid stare; his lips
+shut tight, his head thrown back, his whole frame stiff as an iron
+bar--and without a word of recognition of any kind, passed through the
+open door and into the wide hall. He had cut both of them dead.
+
+Harry gave a half-smothered cry of anguish and turned to follow his
+father into the club.
+
+St. George, purple with rage, laid his hand on the boy's arm, so tight
+that the fingers sank into the flesh: there were steel clamps inside
+these delicate palms when occasion required.
+
+"Keep still," he hissed--"not a word, no outburst. Stay here until I
+come for you. Stop, Rutter: stand where you are!" The two were
+abreast of each other now. "You dare treat your son in that way?
+Horn--Murdoch--Warfield--all of you come out here! What I've got to say
+to Talbot Rutter I want you to hear, and I intend that not only you but
+every decent man and woman in Kennedy Square shall hear!"
+
+The colonel's lips quivered and his face paled, but he did not flinch,
+nor did his eyes drop.
+
+"You are not a father, Talbot--you are a brute! There is not a dog
+in your kennels that would not treat his litter better than you have
+treated Harry! You turned him out in the night without a penny to his
+name; you break his mother's heart; you refuse to hear a word he has
+to say, and then you have the audacity to pass him on the steps of this
+club where he is my guest--my guest, remember--look him squarely in
+the face and ignore him. That, gentlemen, is what Talbot Rutter did one
+minute ago. You have disgraced your blood and your name and you have
+laid up for your old age untold misery and suffering. Never, as long
+as I live, will I speak to you again, nor shall Harry, whom you have
+humiliated! Hereafter _I_ am his father! Do you hear?"
+
+During the whole outburst the colonel had not moved a muscle of his face
+nor had he shifted his body a quarter of an inch. He stood with his
+back to the door through which could be seen the amazed faces of his
+fellow-members--one hand tight shut behind his back, the other loose by
+his side, his eyes fixed on his antagonist. Then slowly, one word at a
+time, as if he had purposely measured the intervals of speech, he said,
+in a voice hardly heard beyond the door, so low was it:
+
+"Are--you--through--St. George?"
+
+"Yes, by God!--I am, and forever!"
+
+"Then, gentlemen"--and he waved his hand courteously to the astounded
+listeners--"may I ask you all to join me? John, bring the juleps!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+
+All the way back to his house St. George's wrath kept him silent. He had
+rarely been so stirred. He was not a brawler--his whole life had been
+one of peace; his whole ambition to be the healer of differences, and
+yet there were some things he could not stand. One of these was cruelty
+to a human being, and Rutter's public disowning of Harry was cruelty of
+the most contemptible kind. But one explanation of such an outrage
+was possible--the man's intolerable egoism, added to his insufferable
+conceit. Only once did Temple address Harry, walking silently by his
+side under the magnolias, and then only to remark, more to himself than
+to his companion--"It's his damned, dirty pride, Harry--that's what it
+is!"
+
+Harry also held his peace. He had no theories regarding his father's
+conduct: only facts confronted him, one being that he had purposely
+humiliated him before the men who had known him from a boy, and with
+whom his future life must be cast. The end had come now. He was adrift
+without a home. Even Kate was lost. This last attack of his father's
+would widen the breach between them, for she would never overlook this
+last stigma when she heard of it, as she certainly must. Nobody would
+then be left on his side except his dear mother, the old house servants,
+and St. George, and of these St. George alone could be of any service to
+him.
+
+It had all been so horrible too, and so undeserved--worse than anything
+he had ever dreamed of; infinitely worse than the night he had been
+driven from Moorlands. Never in all his life had he shown his father
+anything but obedience and respect; furthermore, he had loved and
+admired him; loved his dash and vigor; his superb physique for a man of
+his years--some fifty odd--loved too his sportsmanlike qualities--not a
+man in the county was his equal in the saddle, and not a man in his own
+or any other county could handle the ribbons so well. If his father had
+not agreed with him as to when and where he should teach a vulgarian
+manners, that had been a question about which gentlemen might differ,
+but to have treated him with contempt, to insult him in public, leaving
+him no chance to defend himself--force him, really, into a position
+which made it impossible for him to strike back--was altogether a
+different thing, and for that he would never, never forgive him.
+
+Then a strange thing happened in the boy's mind. It may have been the
+shifting of a grain of gray matter never called into use before; or it
+may have been due to some stranded red corpuscle which, dislodged by the
+pressure he had lately been called upon to endure, had rushed headlong
+through his veins scouring out everything in its way until it reached
+his thinking apparatus. Whatever the cause, certain it was that the
+change in the boy's view of life was as instantaneous as it was radical.
+
+And this was quite possible when his blood is considered. There had
+been, it is true, dominating tyrants way back in his ancestry, as well
+as spend-thrifts, drunkards, roysterers, and gamesters, but so far as
+the records showed there had never been a coward. That old fellow De
+Ruyter, whose portrait hung at Moorlands and who might have been his
+father, so great was the resemblance, had, so to speak, held a shovel in
+one hand and a sword in the other in the days when he helped drown out
+his own and his neighbors' estates to keep the haughty don from gobbling
+up his country. One had but to look into Harry's face to be convinced
+that he too would have followed in his footsteps had he lived in that
+ancestor's time.
+
+It was when the boy, smarting under his father's insult, was passing
+under the blossoms of a wide-spreading magnolia, trying to get a glimpse
+of Kate's face, if by any chance she should be at her window, that this
+grain of gray matter, or lively red corpuscle--or whatever it might
+have been--forced itself through. The breaking away was slow--little
+by little--as an underground tunnel seeks an opening--but the light
+increased with every thought-stroke, its blinding intensity becoming so
+fierce at last that he came to a halt, his eyes on the ground, his whole
+body tense, his mind in a whirl.
+
+Suddenly his brain acted.
+
+To sit down and snivel would do no good; to curse his father would
+be useless and wicked; to force himself on Kate sheer madness.
+But--BUT--BUT--he was twenty-two!--in perfect health and not ashamed
+to look any man in the face. St. George loved him--so did his precious
+mother, and Alec, and a host of others. Should he continue to sit in
+ashes, swaddled in sackcloth--or should he meet the situation like
+a man? Then as his mental vision became accustomed to the glare, two
+things stood out clear in his mind--to win Kate back, no matter at what
+cost--and to compel his father's respect.
+
+
+His mother was the first to hear the music of this new note of
+resolve, and she had not long to wait. She had come to town with the
+colonel--indeed it was at her request that he had ordered the coach
+instead of coming in on horseback, as was his custom--and was at the
+moment quietly resting on St. George's big sofa.
+
+"It is all over, mother," Harry cried in a voice so firm and determined
+that his mother knew at once something unusual had happened--"and you
+might as well make up your mind to it--I have. Father walked into the
+club five minutes ago, looked me square in the face, and cut me dead;
+and he insulted Uncle George too, who gave him the greatest dressing
+down you ever heard in your life." He had learned another side of his
+uncle's character--one he should never cease to be grateful for--his
+outspoken defence of him before his equals.
+
+Mrs. Rutter half rose from her seat in blank astonishment. She was
+a frail little woman with pale-blue eyes and a figure like a curl of
+smoke.
+
+"Your--father--did not--speak--to--you!" she exclaimed excitedly. "You
+say--your father--But how dare he!"
+
+"But he did!" replied Harry in a voice that showed the incident still
+rankled in his mind--"and right in the club, before everybody."
+
+"And the other gentlemen saw it?" She stood erect, her delicate body
+tightening up. There was a strain of some old-time warrior in her blood
+that would brook no insult to her son.
+
+"Yes, half a dozen gentlemen saw it. He did it purposely--so they COULD
+see. I'll never forgive him for it as long as I live. He had no business
+to treat me so!" His voice choked as he spoke, but there was no note of
+surrender or of fear.
+
+She looked at him in a helpless sort of way. "But you didn't answer
+back, did you, my son?" This came in a tone as if she feared to hear the
+details, knowing the boy's temperament, and his father's.
+
+"I didn't say a word; Uncle George wouldn't let me. I'm glad now he
+stopped me, for I was pretty mad, and I might have said something I
+would have been sorry for." The mother gave a sigh of relief, but she
+did not interrupt, nor did she relax the tautness of her body. "You
+ought to have heard Uncle George, though!" Harry rushed on. "He told him
+there was not a dog at Moorlands who would not have treated his puppy
+better than he had me--and another thing he told him--and that was that
+after to-day I was HIS son forever!"
+
+St. George had been standing at the front window with his back to them,
+looking out upon the blossoms. At this last outburst he turned, and said
+over his shoulder:
+
+"Yes--that's true, Annie--that's what I said and what I mean. There is
+no use wasting any more time over Talbot, and I don't intend to."
+
+"But Mr. Rutter will get over his temper." (She never called him by any
+other name.)
+
+"Then he will have to come here and say so. I shall never step foot in
+his house until he does, nor will Harry. As to his forgiving Harry--the
+boot is on the other leg; it is Talbot, not the boy he outraged, who
+must straighten out to-day's work. There was not a man who heard him who
+was not ashamed of him. Oh!--I have no patience with this sort of thing!
+The only son he's got--his only child! Abominable--unforgivable! And it
+will haunt him to his dying day! Poor as I am, alone in the world and
+without a member of my family above ground, I would not change places
+with him. No--Annie--I know how you feel, and God knows I have felt
+for you all these years, but I tell you the end has come! It's
+finished--over--I told him so to his face, and I mean it!"
+
+The slight body sank back into her chair and her eyes filled with tears.
+Harry knelt beside her and put his arms about her. This mother, frail
+as she was, had always been his refuge and comfort: now he must do the
+comforting! (Keep moving, old red corpuscle, there is a lot of work
+ahead of you!)
+
+"Don't worry, you dear little mother," he said tenderly. "I don't know
+how it's coming out, but it will come out somehow. Let father go: Kate
+is the only thing that counts now. I don't blame her for anything she
+has done, and I don't blame myself either. All I know is that everything
+has gone wrong. But, wrong or right, I'm going to stay here just as long
+as Uncle George will let me. He's been more of a father to me than my
+own. It's you I can't get along without, you precious little mother,"
+and he patted her pale cheeks. "Won't you come in every day--and bring
+Alec too?" then, as if he had not yet asked her consent--"You don't mind
+my being here, do you?"
+
+She drew his head close to her lips and kissed his cheek. "No, my son,
+I don't mind--I'm glad. Every night of my life I thank my Maker that
+you are here." She raised her eyes to St. George, who stood looking down
+upon them both, and in a voice barely audible, an unbidden sob choking
+her utterance, faltered--"It's only one more proof of your goodness, St.
+George."
+
+He raised his hand in protest and a faint smile crossed his face. "Don't
+talk that way. Annie."
+
+"I will--it's true. It is a proof of your goodness. I have never
+deserved it. I don't now--but you never fail me." Her voice was clearer
+now--her cheeks, too, had regained some of their color. Harry listened
+wonderingly, his arm still around her.
+
+"I couldn't do anything else, Annie--nobody could under the
+circumstances." His voice had dropped almost to a whisper.
+
+"But it was for me you did it, St. George. I would rather think of it
+that way; it makes it easier. Say you did it for me."
+
+St. George stooped down, raised her thin white hand to his lips, kissed
+it reverently, and without a word of any kind walked to the door of his
+bedroom and shut it behind him.
+
+Mrs. Rutter's hand dropped to her lap and a smile of intense relief
+passed over her face. She neither looked after St. George, nor did she
+offer any explanation to Harry; she merely bent forward and continued
+her caresses, stroking the boy's glossy hair, patting the white temples
+with her delicate fingers, smoothing the small, well-set ears and the
+full brown throat, kissing his forehead, her eyes reading his face,
+wondering if she had spoken too freely and yet regretting nothing: what
+she had said had come straight from her heart and she was not ashamed of
+it.
+
+The boy lay still, his head against her breast. That his mother had been
+stirred even in a greater degree over what St. George had said to her
+than she had been by his father's treatment of him was evident in the
+trembling movement of the soft hands caressing his hair and in the way
+her breath came and went. Under her soothing touch his thoughts went
+back to the events of the morning:--his uncle's defiant tones as he
+denounced his father; his soft answer to his mother; her pleading words
+in reply, and then the reverent kiss.
+
+Suddenly, clear as the tones of a far-off convent bell sifting down
+from some cloud-swept crag, there stole into his mind a memory of his
+childhood--a legend of long ago, vague and intangible--one he could not
+put into words--one Alec had once hinted at. He held his breath trying
+to gather up the loose ends--to make a connected whole; to fit the parts
+together. Then, as one blows out a candle, leaving total darkness, he
+banished it all from his mind.
+
+"Mother dear!--mother dear!" he cried tenderly, and wound his arms the
+closer about her neck.
+
+She gathered him up as she had done in the old days when he was a child
+at her breast; all the intervening years seemed blotted out. He was her
+baby boy once more--her constant companion and unending comfort: the one
+and only thing in her whole life that understood her.
+
+Soon the warmth and strength of the full man began to reach her heart.
+She drew him still closer, this strong son who loved her, and in the
+embrace there grew a new and strange tenderness--one born of confidence.
+It was this arm which must defend her now; this head and heart which
+must guide her. She was no longer adrift.
+
+The two had not moved when St. George re-entered the room some moments
+later. Harry's head still lay on her breast, the thin, transparent hands
+tight about his neck.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+
+The colonel's treatment of Harry at the club had cleared the air of
+any doubt that either the boy or St. George might have had concerning
+Rutter's frame of mind. Henceforth the boy and the man would conduct
+their lives as if the Lord of Moorlands did not exist.
+
+So the boy unpacked the things which Alec had brought in, and with
+his mother's assistance--who came in once a week--hung up his
+hunting-clothes in the closet, racked up his guns and fishing-rods over
+the mantel, and suspended his favorite saddle by a stirrup on a hook in
+the hall. Then the two had set out his books and miniatures; one of his
+mother, which he kissed tenderly, with the remark that it wasn't half as
+pretty as the original, and then propped up in the place of honor in
+the middle of his desk, and another of his father, which he placed on an
+adjoining table--as well as his few belongings and knickknacks. And so
+the outcast settled down determined not only to adapt himself to the
+comforts--or want of them--to be found under St. George's roof, but to
+do it cheerfully, gratefully, and like a man and a gentleman.
+
+To none of all this did his father offer a single objection. "Make a
+clean sweep of Mr. Harry Rutter's things," he had said to Alec, "so that
+I may be relieved from the annoyance of a second delivery."
+
+Alec had repeated the order to Harry word for word, adding: "Don't you
+sass back, Marse Harry--let him blow hisse'f out--he don't mean nothin'.
+He's dat mad he's crazy--gits dat way sometimes--den purty soon he's
+fit to bust hisse'f wide open a-cryin'! I see him do dat once when you
+warn't mo'n so high, and de doctor said you was daid fo' sho'."
+
+Harry made no reply, but it did not ruffle his temper. His duty was no
+longer to be found at Moorlands; his Uncle George claimed him. All his
+hours would now be devoted to showing him how grateful he was for his
+protection and guidance. Time enough for his father, and time enough
+for Kate, for that matter, should the clouds ever lift--as lift they
+would--but his Uncle George first, last, and all the time.
+
+And St. George appreciated it to the full. Never had he been so happy.
+Even the men at the club saw the change, and declared he looked ten
+years younger--fifteen really, when Harry was with him, which was
+almost always the case--for out of consideration for St. George and the
+peculiar circumstances surrounding the boy's condition, his birth and
+station, and the pride they took in his pluck, the committee had at
+last stretched the rule and had sent Mr. Henry Gilmor Rutter of
+Moorlands--with special reference to "Moorlands," a perennial invitation
+entitling him to the club's privileges--a card which never expired
+because it was systematically renewed.
+
+And it was not only at the club that the two men were inseparable. In
+their morning walks, the four dogs in full cry; at the races; in the
+hunts, when some one loaned both Harry and his uncle a mount--at night,
+when Todd passed silently out, leaving all the bottled comforts behind
+him--followed by--"Ah, Harry!--and you won't join me? That's right, my
+son--and I won't ask you," the two passed almost every hour of the day
+and night together. It was host one minute and father the next.
+
+And this life, if the truth be told, did not greatly vary from the one
+the boy had always led, except that there was more of town and less of
+country in it than he had heretofore been accustomed to. The freedom
+from all care--for the colonel had trained Harry to neither business nor
+profession--was the same, and so was the right to employ his time as he
+pleased. At Moorlands he was busy over his horses and dogs, his sporting
+outfits, riding to hounds, cock-fights--common in those days--and, of
+course, assisting his father and mother in dispensing the hospitality of
+the house. In Kennedy Square St. George was his chief occupation, and
+of the two he liked the last the best. What he had hungered for all his
+life was sympathy and companionship, and this his father had never given
+him; nor had he known what it was since his college days. Advice, money,
+horses, clothes, guns--anything and everything which might, could, or
+would redound to the glory of the Rutters had been his for the asking,
+but the touch of a warm hand, the thrill in the voice when he had done
+something to please and had waited for an acknowledgment--that had never
+come his way. Nothing of this kind was needed between men, his father
+would say to Harry's mother--and his son was a man now. Had their child
+been a daughter, it would have been quite another thing, but a son was
+to be handled differently--especially an only son who was sole heir to
+one's entire estate.
+
+And yet it must not be thought that the outcast spent his time in sheer
+idleness. St. George would often find him tucked away in one of his big
+chairs devouring some book he had culled from the old general's library
+in the basement--a room adjoining the one occupied by a firm of young
+lawyers--Pawson & Pawson (only one brother was alive)--with an entrance
+on the side street, it being of "no use to me" St. George had said--"and
+the rent will come in handy." Tales of the sea especially delighted the
+young fellow--the old admiral's blood being again in evidence--and so
+might have been the mother's fine imagination. It was Defoe and Mungo
+Park and Cooke who enchained the boy's attention, as well as many of the
+chronicles of the later navigators. But of the current literature of
+the day--Longfellow, Margaret Fuller, Hawthorne, and Emerson--no one
+appealed to him as did the man Poe. He and St. George had passed many
+an hour discussing him. Somehow the bond of sympathy between himself and
+the poet had become the stronger. Both had wept bitter tears over the
+calamities that had followed an unrequited love.
+
+It was during one of these talks--and the poet was often under
+discussion--that St. George had suddenly risen from his chair, lighted
+a candle, and had betaken himself to the basement--a place he seldom
+visited--from which he brought back a thin, crudely bound, and badly
+printed, dust-covered volume bearing the title "Tamerlane:--by a
+Bostonian." This, with a smile he handed to Harry. Some friend had given
+him the little book when it was first published and he had forgotten
+it was in the house until he noted Harry's interest in the author. Then
+again, he wanted to see whether it was the boy's literary taste, never
+much in evidence, or his romantic conception of the much-talked-of poet,
+which had prompted his intense interest in the man.
+
+"Read these poems, Harry, and tell me who wrote them," said St. George,
+dusting the book with a thrash of his handkerchief and tossing it to the
+young fellow.
+
+The boy caught it, skimmed through the thin volume, lingered over one or
+two pages, absorbing each line, and replied in a decided and delighted
+voice: "The same man who wrote 'The Raven,' of course--there can't be
+any doubt of it. I can hear Mr. Horn's voice in every line. Why didn't
+you let me have it before?"
+
+"Are you sure?" asked St. George, watching him closely.
+
+"Am I sure?--of course I am! Listen to this:
+
+"'We grew in age--and--love--together, Roaming the forest and the
+wild--'
+
+"That's Kate and me, Uncle George," and he smiled sadly. "And then this
+line:
+
+"'I saw no heaven but in her eyes.'
+
+"And then these lines in 'The Raven'--wait--I will read them." He had
+the sheet of paper in his pocket which Richard Horn had read from at the
+club, and knew the poem now by heart:
+
+"'Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn, It
+shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels call Lenore'--
+
+"That's me again. I wish I could read it like Mr. Horn. What a voice--so
+deep--so musical--like a great organ, or, rather, like one of the big
+strings on his violin."
+
+"And what a mind, too, Harry," rejoined St. George. "Richard is a long
+way ahead of his time. His head is full of things that few around here
+understand. They hear him play the violin or read, and some go away
+calling him a genius, but when he talks to them about the way the
+railroads are opening up, and the new telegraph this man Morse is
+at work on, and what is going to come of it--or hear him discuss the
+development of the country along scientific lines, they shrug their
+shoulders and tap their foreheads. You want to talk to him every chance
+you get. That is one reason I am glad they let you permanently into the
+club, for he is too busy in his work-shop at home to speak to anybody.
+Nobody will do you so much good--and he likes you, Harry. He said to me
+only the other night when I was dining with him--the night you were at
+Mrs. Cheston's--that he felt sorry for you; that it was not your fault,
+or the fault of your father--but that you both had been caught in the
+ebb-tide of a period."
+
+Harry laughed: "What did he mean by that?"
+
+"I'll be hanged if I know. You made so good a guess on the Tamerlane,
+that it's just occurred to me to try you on this," and St. George
+laughed heartily. (St. George was adrift on the ebb-tide himself did he
+but know it.)
+
+Harry thought earnestly for a moment, pondering upon what the inventor
+could have had in his mind. It couldn't have been politics that Mr. Horn
+meant; nor failure of the crops; nor the way the slaves were treated.
+None of these things affected him. Indeed none of them did he know
+anything of. Nor was he an expert on duelling. It must have been Kate.
+Yes--of course--it was Kate and her treatment of him. The "tide" was
+what had swept them apart.
+
+"Oh, I know," he cried in an animated tone. "He meant Kate. Tell
+me--what did he say about her?" He had searched his books for some
+parallel from which to draw a conclusion, but none of them had given him
+any relief. May be Mr. Horn had solved the problem.
+
+"He said she was the first of the flood, though he was mighty sorry for
+you both; and he said, too, that, as she was the first to strike out for
+the shore, Kennedy Square ought to build a triumphal arch for her," and
+St. George looked quizzically at Harry.
+
+"Well, do you think there is any common sense in that?" blurted out the
+boy, twisting himself in his chair so he could get a better look at his
+uncle's face.
+
+"No--it doesn't sound like it, but it may be profound wisdom all the
+same, if you can only see it from Richard's point of view. Try it.
+There's a heap of brains under his cranium."
+
+Harry fell to tapping the arm of his chair. Queer reasoning this of Mr.
+Horn's, he said to himself. He had always thought that he and his father
+were on the tip-top of any kind of tide, flood or ebb--and as for Kate,
+she was the white gull that skimmed its crest!
+
+Again Harry dropped into deep thought, shifting his legs now and then in
+his restless, impatient way. If there was any comfort to be gotten out
+of this new doctrine he wanted to probe it to the bottom.
+
+"And what does he say of Mr. Poe? Does he think he's a drunken lunatic,
+like some of the men at the club?"
+
+"No, he thinks he is one of the greatest literary geniuses the country
+has yet produced. He has said so for years--ever since he began to
+write. Willis first became acquainted with Mr. Poe through a letter
+Richard gave him, and now that the papers are full of him, and everybody
+is talking about him, these backbiters like Bowdoin want to get into
+line and say they always thought so. But Richard has never wavered. Of
+course Poe loses his balance and topples backward once in a while--but
+he's getting over it. That is his mistake and it is unfortunate, but
+it isn't a crime. I can forgive him anything he does so he keeps to
+his ideals. If he had had a better bringing up and knew the difference
+between good rain-water Madeira and bad pump water and worse whiskey he
+would keep as straight as a church deacon. Too bad he doesn't."
+
+"Well," Harry answered at last, rising from his chair and brushing the
+ashes of his pipe from his clothes--"I don't know anything about Mr.
+Horn's tides, but he's right about Mr. Poe--that is, I hope he is. We've
+both, got a 'Lost Lenore,'" and his voice quivered. All Harry's roads
+ended at Kate's door.
+
+And so with these and other talks, heart-burnings, outings, sports, and
+long tramps in the country, the dogs scampering ahead, the summer days
+slipped by.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+
+Such were the soft, balmy conditions in and around the Temple
+Mansion--conditions bringing only peace and comfort--(heart-aches were
+kept in check)--when one August morning there came so decided a change
+of weather that everybody began at once to get in out of the wet. The
+storm had been brewing for some days up Moorlands way, where all
+Harry's storms started, but up to the present moment there had been no
+indications in and about Kennedy Square of its near approach, or even of
+its existence.
+
+It was quite early in the day when the big drops began to patter down on
+Todd's highly polished knocker. Breakfast had been served and the mail
+but half opened--containing among other missives a letter from Poe
+acknowledging one from St. George, in which he wrote that he might
+soon be in Kennedy Square on his way to Richmond--a piece of news which
+greatly delighted Harry--and another from Tom Coston, inviting them both
+to Wesley for the fall shooting, with a postscript to the effect that
+Willits was "still at the Red Sulphur with the Seymours"--(a piece
+of news which greatly depressed him)--when Todd answered a thunderous
+rat-a-tat and immediately thereafter recrossed the hall and opened
+the dining-room door just wide enough to thrust in first his scared
+face--then his head--shoulder--arm--and last his hand, on the palm of
+which lay a small, greasy card bearing the inscription:
+
+John Gadgem, Agent.
+
+The darky, evidently, was not in a normal condition, for after a
+moment's nervous hesitation, his eyes over his shoulder as if fearing he
+was being followed, he squeezed in the rest of his body, closed the door
+softly behind him, and said in a hoarse whisper to the room at large:
+
+"Dat's de same man been here three times yisterday. He asked fust fer
+Marse Harry, an' when I done tol' him he warn't home--you was 'sleep
+upstairs, Marse Harry, but I warn't gwineter 'sturb ye--he say he come
+back dis mawnin'."
+
+"Well, but what does he want?" asked Harry, dropping a lump of sugar in
+his cup. He had been accumstomed to be annoyed by agents of all kinds
+who wanted to sell him one thing or another--and so he never allowed
+any one to get at him unless his business was stated beforehand. He had
+learned this from his father.
+
+"I dun'no, sah."
+
+"What does he look like, Todd?" cried St. George, breaking the seal of
+another letter.
+
+"Wall, he ain't no gemman--he's jus' a pusson I reckon. I done tol'
+him you warn't out o' bed yit, but he said he'd wait. I got him shet
+outside, but I can't fool him no mo'. What'll I do now?"
+
+"Well, what do you think he wants, then?" Harry burst out impatiently.
+
+"Well," said Todd--"ef I was to tell ye God's truf', I reckon he wants
+money. He says he's been to de big house--way out to de colonel's, and
+dey th'owed him out--and now he's gwineter sit down yere till somebody
+listens to him. It won't do to fool wid him, Marse Harry--I see dat de
+fus' time he come. He's a he-one--and he's got horns on him for sho'.
+What'll I do?"
+
+Both Harry and St. George roared.
+
+"Why bring him in, of course--a 'pusson' with horns on him will be worth
+seeing."
+
+A shabby, wizened-faced man; bent-in-the-back, gimlet-eyed, wearing a
+musty brown coat, soiled black stock, unspeakable linen, and skin-tight
+trousers held to his rusty shoes by wide straps--showing not only
+the knuckles of his knees but the streaked thinness of his upper
+shanks--(Cruikshank could have drawn him to the life)--sidled into the
+room, mopping his head with a red cotton handkerchief which he took from
+his hat.
+
+"My name is GADgem, gentleman--Mr. John GADgem of GADgem & Combes.
+
+"I am looking for Mr. Harry Rutter, whom I am informed--I would not
+say POSitively--but I am inFORMED is stopping with you, Mr. Temple.
+You forget me, Mr. Temple, but I do not forget you, sir. That little
+foreclosure matter of Bucks vs. Temple--you remember when--"
+
+"Sit down," said St. George curtly, laying down his knife and fork.
+"Todd, hand Mr. Gadgem a chair."
+
+The gimlet-eyed man--and it was very active--waved his hand
+deprecatingly.
+
+"No, I don't think that is necessary. I can stand. I preFER to stand.
+I am acCUStomed to stand--I have been standing outside this gentleman's
+father's door now, off and on, for some weeks, and--"
+
+"Will you tell me what you want?" interrupted Harry, curtly. References
+to Moorlands invariably roused his ire.
+
+"I am coming to that, sir, slowly, but surely. Now that I have found
+somebody that will listen to me--that is, if you are Mr. Harry Rutter--"
+The deferential air with which he said this was admirable.
+
+"Oh, yes--I'm the man," answered Harry in a resigned voice.
+
+"Yes, sir--so I supposed. And now I look at you, sir"--here the gimlet
+was in full twist--"I would make an affidavit to that effect before any
+notary." He began loosening his coat with his skinny fingers, fumbling
+in his inside pocket, thrusting deep his hand, as if searching for an
+elusive insect in the vicinity of his arm-pit, his talk continuing:
+"Yes, sir, before any notary, you are so exactly like your father.
+Not that I've seen your father, sir, VERY MANY TIMES"--the elusive
+had evidently escaped, for his hand went deeper. "I've only seen him
+once--ONCE--and it was enough. It was not a pleasant visit, sir--in
+fact, it was a most UNpleasant visit. I came very near having cause
+for action--for assault, really. A very polite colored man was all that
+prevented it, and--Ah--here it is!" He had the minute pest now. "Permit
+me to separate the list from the exhibits."
+
+At this Gadgem's hand, clutching a bundle of papers, came out with a
+jerk--so much of a jerk that St. George, who was about to end the comedy
+by ordering the man from the room, stopped short in his protest, his
+curiosity getting the better of him to know what the fellow had found.
+
+"There, sir." Here he drew a long slip from the package, held it between
+his thumb and forefinger, and was about to continue, when St. George
+burst out with:
+
+"Look here, Gadgem--if you have any business with Mr. Rutter you will
+please state it at once. We have hardly finished breakfast."
+
+"I beg, sir, that you will not lose your temper. It is unBUSinesslike to
+lose one's temper. Gadgem & Combes, sir, NEVER lose their temper. They
+are men of peace, sir--ALways men of peace. Mr. Combes sometimes resorts
+to extreme measures, but NEVER Mr. Gadgem. _I_ am Mr. Gadgem, sir," and
+he tapped his soiled shirt-front with his soiled finger-nail. "PEACE
+is my watchword, that is why this matter has been placed in my hands.
+Permit me, sir, to ask you to cast your eye over this."
+
+Harry, who was getting interested, scanned the long slip and handed it
+to St. George, who studied it for a moment and returned it to Harry.
+
+"You will note, I beg of you, sir, the first item." There was a tone
+of triumph now in Gadgem's voice. "One saddle horse sixteen hands high,
+bought of Hampson & Co. on the"--then he craned his neck so as to see
+the list over Harry's shoulder--"yes--on the SECOND of LAST September.
+Rather overdue, is it not, sir, if I may be permitted to remark?" This
+came with a lift of the eyebrows, as if Harry's oversight had been too
+naughty for words.
+
+"But what the devil have I got to do with this?" The boy was thoroughly
+angry now. The lift of Gadgem's eyebrows did it.
+
+"You rode the horse, sir." This came with a certain air of "Oh! I have
+you now."
+
+"Yes, and he broke his leg and had to be shot," burst out Harry in a
+tone that showed how worthless had been the bargain.
+
+"EXactly, sir. So your father told me, sir. You don't remember having
+PAID Mr. Hampson for him beFORE he broke his leg, do you, sir?" He
+had him pinned fast now--all he had to do was to watch his victim's
+struggles.
+
+"Me? No, of course not!" Harry exploded.
+
+"EXactly so, sir--so your father told me. FORcibly, sir--and as if he
+was quite sure of it."
+
+Again he looked over Harry's shoulder, following the list with his
+skinny finger. At the same time he lowered his voice--became even
+humble. "Ah, there it is--the English racing saddle and the pair of
+blankets, and the--might I ask you, sir, whether you have among your
+papers any receipt for--?"
+
+"But I don't pay these bills--I never pay any bills." Harry's tone had
+now reached a higher pitch.
+
+"EXactly so, sir--just what your father said, sir, and with such
+vehemence that I moved toward the door." Out went the finger again, the
+insinuating voice keeping up. "And then the five hundred dollars from
+Mr. Slater--you see, sir, we had all these accounts placed in our
+hands with the expectation that your father would liquidate at one fell
+swoop--these were Mr. Combes's very words, sir: 'ONE FELL SWOOP.'" This
+came with an inward rake of his hand, his fingers grasping an imaginary
+sickle, Harry's accumulated debts being so many weeds in his way.
+
+"And didn't he? He always has," demanded the culprit.
+
+"EXactly so, sir--exactly what your father said."
+
+"Exactly what?"
+
+"That he had heretofore always paid them."
+
+"Well, then, take them to him!" roared Harry, breaking loose again. "I
+haven't got anything to do with them, and won't."
+
+"Your father's PREcise words, sir," purred Gadgem. "And by the time he
+had uttered them, sir, I was out of the room. It was here, sir, that the
+very polite colored man, Alec by name, so I am informed, and of whom I
+made mention a few moments ago, became of inVALuable assistance--of very
+GREAT assistance, sir."
+
+"You mean to tell me that you have seen my father--handed him these
+bills, and that he has refused to pay them?" Harry roared on.
+
+"I DO, sir." Gadgem had straightened his withered body now and was
+boring into Harry's eyes with all his might.
+
+"Will you tell me just what he said?" The boy was still roaring, but the
+indignant tone was missing.
+
+"He said--you will not be offended, sir--you mean, of course, sir, that
+you would like me to state exACTly what your father said, proceeding as
+if I was under oath." It is indescribable how soft and mellifluous his
+voice had now become.
+
+Harry nodded.
+
+"He said, sir, that he'd be DAMNED if he'd pay another cent for a
+hot-headed fool who had disgraced his family. He said, sir, that you
+were of AGE--and were of age when you contracted these bills. He said,
+sir, that he had already sent you these accounts two days after he
+had ordered you from his house. And FInally, sir--I say, finally, sir,
+because it appeared to me at the time to be conclusive--he said, sir,
+that he would set the dogs on me if I ever crossed his lot again. HENCE,
+sir, my appearing three times at your door yesterday. HENCE, sir,
+my breaking in upon you at this unseemly hour in the morning. I am
+particular myself, sir, about having my morning meal disturbed; cold
+coffee is never agreeable, gentlemen--but in this case you must admit
+that my intrusion is pardonable."
+
+The boy understood now.
+
+"Come to think of it I have a bundle of papers upstairs tied with a
+red string which came with my boxes from Moorlands. I threw them in
+the drawer without opening them." This last remark was addressed to St.
+George, who had listened at first with a broad smile on his face, which
+had deepened to one of intense seriousness as the interview continued,
+and which had now changed to one of ill-concealed rage.
+
+"Mr. Gadgem," gritted St. George between his teeth--he had risen from
+the table during the colloquy and was standing with his back to the
+mantel, the blood up to the roots of his hair.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Lay the packages of bills with the memoranda on my desk, and I will
+look them over during the day."
+
+"But, Mr. Temple," and his lip curled contemptuously--he had had that
+same trick played on him by dozens of men.
+
+"Not another word, Mr. Gadgem. I said--I--would
+look--them--over--during--the--day. You've had some dealings with me and
+know exactly what kind of a man I am. When I want you I will send for
+you. If I don't send for you, come here to-morrow morning at ten o'clock
+and Mr. Rutter will give you his answer. Todd, show Mr. Gadgem out."
+
+"But, Mr. Temple--you forGET that my duty is to--"
+
+"I forget nothing. Todd, show Mr. Gadgem out."
+
+With the closing of the door behind the agent, St. George turned to
+Harry. His eyes were snapping fire and his big frame tense with anger.
+This phase of the affair had not occurred to him--nothing in which money
+formed an important part ever did occur to him.
+
+"A cowardly piece of business, Harry, and on a par with everything he
+has done since you left his house. Talbot must be crazy to act as he
+does. He can't break you down in any other way, so he insults you before
+his friends and now throws these in your face"--and he pointed to
+the package of bills where Gadgem had laid it--"a most extraordinary
+proceeding. Please hand me that list. Thank you.... Now this third item
+... this five hundred dollars--did you get that money?"
+
+"Yes--and another hundred the next day, which isn't down," rejoined the
+young man, running his eye over the list.
+
+"Borrowed it?"
+
+"Yes, of course--for Gilbert. He got into a card scrape at the tavern
+and I helped him out. I told my father all about it and he said I had
+done just right; that I must always help a friend out in a case like
+that, and that he'd pay it. All he objected to was my borrowing it of a
+tradesman instead of my coming to him." It was an age of borrowing and a
+bootmaker was often better than a banker.
+
+"Well--but why didn't you go to him?" He wanted to get at all the facts.
+
+"There wasn't time. Gilbert had to have the money in an hour, and it was
+the only place where I could get it."
+
+"Of course there wasn't time--never is when the stakes are running
+like that." St. George folded up the memorandum. He knew something of
+Talbot's iron will, but he never supposed that he would lose his sense
+of what was right and wrong in exercising it. Again he opened the
+list--rather hurriedly this time, as if some new phase had struck
+him--studied it for a moment, and then asked with an increased interest
+in his tones:
+
+"Did Gilbert give you back the money you loaned him?"
+
+"Yes--certainly; about a month afterward." Here at least was an asset.
+
+St. George's face lighted up. "And what did you do with it?"
+
+"Took it to my father and he told me to use it; that he would settle
+with Mr. Slater when he paid his account;--when, too, he would thank him
+for helping me out."
+
+"And when he didn't pay it back and these buzzards learned you had quit
+your father's house they employed Gadgem to pick your bones."
+
+"Yes--it seems so; but, Uncle George, it's due them!" exclaimed
+Harry--"they ought to have their money. I would never have taken a
+dollar--or bought a thing if I had not supposed my father would pay for
+them." There was no question as to the boy's sense of justice--every
+intonation showed it.
+
+"Of course it's due--due by you, too--not your father; that's the worst
+of it. And if he refuses to assume it--and he has--it is still to
+be paid--every cent of it. The question is how the devil is it to be
+paid--and paid quickly. I can't have you pointed out as a spendthrift
+and a dodger. No, this has got to be settled at once."
+
+He threw himself into a chair, his mind absorbed in the effort to
+find some way out of the difficulty. The state of his own bank account
+precluded all relief in that direction. To borrow a dollar from the
+Patapsco on any note of hand he could offer was out of the question, the
+money stringency having become still more acute. Yet help must be had,
+and at once. Again he unfolded the slip and ran his eyes over the items,
+his mind in deep thought, then he added in an anxious tone:
+
+"Are you aware, Harry, that this list amounts to several thousand
+dollars?"
+
+"Yes--I saw it did. I had no idea it was so much. I never thought
+anything about it in fact. My father always paid--paid for anything I
+wanted." Neither did the young fellow ever concern himself about the
+supply of water in the old well at Moorlands. His experience had been
+altogether with the bucket and the gourd: all he had had to do was to
+dip in.
+
+Again St. George ruminated. It had been many years since he had been so
+disturbed about any matter involving money.
+
+"And have you any money left, Harry?"
+
+"Not much. What I have is in my drawer upstairs."
+
+"Then I'll lend you the money." This came with a certain
+spontaneity--quite as if he had said to a companion who had lost his
+umbrella--"Take mine!"
+
+"But have you got it, Uncle George?" asked Harry in an anxious tone.
+
+"No--not that I know of," he replied simply, but with no weakening of
+his determination to see the boy through, no matter at what cost.
+
+"Well--then--how will you lend it?" laughed Harry. Money crises had not
+formed part of his troubles.
+
+"Egad, my boy, I don't know!--but somehow."
+
+He rang the bell and Todd put in his head. "Todd, go around
+outside,--see if young Mr. Pawson is in his office below us, present my
+compliments and say that it will give me great pleasure to call upon him
+regarding a matter of business."
+
+"Yes, sah--"
+
+"--And, Todd--say also that if agreeable to him, I will be there in ten
+minutes."
+
+
+Punctually at ten o'clock on the following morning the shrivelled body
+and anxious face of the agent was ushered by Todd into St. George's
+presence--Dandy close behind sniffing at his thin knees, convinced that
+he was a suspicious person. This hour had been fixed by Temple in case
+he was not sent for earlier, and as no messenger had so far reached
+the bill collector he was naturally in doubt as to the nature of his
+reception. He had the same hat in his hand and the same handkerchief--a
+weekly, or probably a monthly comfort--its dingy red color defrauding
+the laundry.
+
+"I have waited, sir," Gadgem began in an unctuous tone, his eyes on
+the dog, who had now resumed his place on the hearth rug--"waited
+IMpatiently, relying upon the word and honor of--"
+
+"There--that will do, Gadgem," laughed St. George good-naturedly.
+Somehow he seemed more than usually happy this morning--bubbling over,
+indeed, ever since Todd had brought him a message from the young lawyer
+in the basement but half an hour before. "Keep that sort of talk for
+those who like it. No, Todd, you needn't bring Mr. Gadgem a chair, for
+he won't be here long enough to enjoy it. Now listen," and he took the
+memorandum from his pocket. "These bills are correct. Mr. Rutter has
+had the money and the goods. Take this list which I have signed to my
+attorney in the office underneath and be prepared to give a receipt in
+full for each account at twelve o'clock to-morrow. I have arranged to
+have them paid in full. Good-morning."
+
+Gadgem stared. He did not believe a word about finding the money
+downstairs. He was accustomed to being put off that way and had already
+formulated his next tactical move. In fact he was about to name it with
+some positiveness, recounting the sort of papers which would follow and
+the celerity of their serving, when he suddenly became aware that St.
+George's eyes were fixed upon him and instantly stopped breathing.
+
+"I said good-morning, Mr. Gadgem," repeated St. George sententiously.
+There was no mistaking his meaning.
+
+"I heard you, sir," hesitated the collector--"_I_ heard you diSTINCTly,
+but in cases of this kind there is--"
+
+St. George swung back the door and stood waiting. No man living or dead
+had ever doubted the word of St. George Wilmot Temple, not even by
+a tone of the voice, and Gadgem's was certainly suggestive of a
+well-defined and most offensive doubt. Todd moved up closer; Dandy rose
+to his feet, thinking he might be of use. The little man looked from
+one to the other. He might add an action for assault and battery to the
+claim, but that would delay its collection.
+
+"Then at TWELVE o'clock, to-morrow, Mr. Temple," he purred blandly.
+
+"At twelve o'clock!" repeated St. George coldly, wondering which end of
+the intruder he would grapple when he threw him through the front door
+and down the front steps.
+
+"I will be here on the stroke of the clock, sir--on the STROKE," and
+Gadgem slunk out.
+
+For some minutes St. George continued to walk up and down the room,
+stooping once in a while to caress the setter; dry-washing his hands;
+tapping his well-cut waistcoat with his shapely fingers, his thumbs
+in the arm-holes; halting now and then to stretch himself to the
+full height of his body. He had outwitted the colonel--taught him a
+lesson--let him see that he was not the only "hound in the pack," and,
+best of all, he had saved the boy from annoyance and possibly from
+disgrace.
+
+He was still striding up and down the room, when Harry, who had
+overslept himself as usual, came down to breakfast. Had some friend of
+his uncle found a gold mine in the back yard--or, better still, had Todd
+just discovered a forgotten row of old "Brahmin Madeira" in some dark
+corner of his cellar--St. George could not have been more buoyant.
+
+"Glad you didn't get up any earlier, you good-for-nothing sleepy-head!"
+he cried in welcoming, joyous tones. "You have just missed that
+ill-smelling buzzard."
+
+"What buzzard?" asked Harry, glancing over the letters on the mantel in
+the forlorn hope of finding one from Kate.
+
+"Why, Gadgem--and that is the last you will ever see of him."
+
+"Why?--has father paid him?" he asked in a listless way, squeezing
+Dandy's nose thrust affectionately into his hand--his mind still on
+Kate. Now that Willits was with her, as every one said, she would never
+write him again. He was a fool to expect it, he thought, and he sighed
+heavily.
+
+"Of course he hasn't paid him--but I have. That is, a friend of mine
+has--or will."
+
+"You have!" cried Harry with a start. He was interested now--not for
+himself, but for St. George: no penny of his uncle's should ever go to
+pay his debts. "Where did the money come from?"
+
+"Never you mind where the money came from. You found it for Gilbert--did
+he ask you where you got it? Why should you ask me?"
+
+"Well, I won't; but you are mighty good to me, Uncle George, and I am
+very grateful to you." The relief was not overwhelming, for the burden
+of the debt had not been heavy. It was only the sting of his father's
+refusal that had hurt. He had always believed that the financial tangle
+would be straightened out somehow.
+
+"No!--damn it!--you are not grateful. You sha'n't be grateful!" cried
+St. George with a boyish laugh, seating himself that he might fill his
+pipe the better from a saucer of tobacco on the table. "If you were
+grateful it would spoil it all. What you can do, however, is to thank
+your lucky stars that that greasy red pocket-handkerchief will never
+be aired in your presence again. And there's another thing you can be
+thankful for now that you are in a thankful mood, and that is that Mr.
+Poe will be at Guy's to-morrow, and wants to see me." He had finished
+filling the pipe bowl, and had struck a match.
+
+The boy's eyes danced. Gadgem, his father, his debts, everything--was
+forgotten.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! How do you know?"
+
+"Here's a letter from him." (Puff-puff.)
+
+"And can I see him?"
+
+"Of course you can see him! We will have him to dinner, my boy! Here
+comes Todd with your coffee. Take my seat so I can talk to you while I
+smoke."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+
+Although St. George dispensed his hospitality without form or pretence,
+never referring to his intended functions except in a casual way, the
+news of so unusual a dinner to so notorious a man as Edgar Allan Poe
+could not long be kept quiet.
+
+While a few habitues occupying the arm-chairs on the sidewalk of the
+club were disappointed at not being invited,--although they knew that
+ten guests had always been St. George's limit,--others expressed their
+disapproval of the entire performance with more than a shrug of the
+shoulders. Captain Warfleld was most outspoken. "Temple," he said, "like
+his father, is a law unto himself, and always entertains the queerest
+kind of people; and if he wants to do honor to a man of that stamp, why
+that, of course, is his business, not mine." At which old Tom Purviance
+had blurted out--"And a shiftless vagabond too, Warfield, if what I hear
+is true. Fine subject for St. George to waste his Madeira on!" Purviance
+had never read a dozen lines of anybody's poetry in his life, and looked
+upon all literary men as no better than play actors.
+
+It was then that Richard Horn, his eyes flashing, had retorted:
+
+"If I did not know how kind-hearted you were, Purviance, and how
+thoughtless you can sometimes be in your criticisms, I might ask you to
+apologize to both Mr. Poe and myself. Would it surprise you to know that
+there is no more truth in what you say than there is in the reports of
+that gentleman's habitual drunkenness? It was but a year ago that I met
+him at his cousin's house and I shall never forget him. Would it also
+surprise you to learn that he has the appearance of a man of very great
+distinction?--that he was faultlessly attired in a full suit of black
+and had the finest pair of eyes in his head I have ever looked into? Mr.
+Poe is not of your world, or of mine--he is above it. There is too much
+of this sort of ill-considered judgment abroad in the land. No--my dear
+Purviance--I don't want to be rude and I am sure you will not think I
+am personal. I am only trying to be just to one of the master spirits
+of our time so that I won't be humiliated when his real worth becomes a
+household word."
+
+The women took a different view.
+
+"I can't understand what Mr. Temple is thinking of," said the wife
+of the archdeacon to Mrs. Cheston. "This Mr. Poe is something
+dreadful--never sober, I hear. Mr. Temple is invariably polite to
+everybody, but when he goes out of his way to do honor to a man like
+this he only makes it harder for those of us who are trying to help our
+sons and brothers--" to which Mrs. Cheston had replied with a twinkle
+in her mouse eyes and a toss of her gray head:--"So was Byron, my dear
+woman--a very dreadful and most disreputable person, but I can't spare
+him from my Library, nor should you."
+
+None of these criticisms would have affected St. George had he heard
+them, and we may be sure no one dared tell him. He was too busy, in
+fact--and so was Harry, helping him for that matter--setting his house
+in order for the coming function.
+
+That the table itself might be made the more worthy of the great man,
+orders were given that the big silver loving-cup--the one presented
+to his father by no less a person than the Marquis de Castellux
+himself--should be brought out to be filled later on with Cloth of Gold
+roses so placed that their rich color and fragrance would reach both
+the eyes and the nostrils of his guests, while the rest of the family
+silver, brightened to a mirror finish by Todd, was either sent down to
+Aunt Jemima to be ready for the special dishes for which the house was
+famous, or disposed on the side-board and serving-table for instant use
+when required. Easy-chairs were next brought from upstairs--tobacco and
+pipes, with wax candles, were arranged on teak-wood trays, and an extra
+dozen or so of bubble-blown glasses banked on a convenient shelf. The
+banquet room too, for it was late summer, was kept as cool as the season
+permitted, the green shutters being closed, thus barring out the heat of
+early September--and the same precaution was taken in the dressing-room,
+which was to serve as a receptacle for hats and canes.
+
+And Todd as usual was his able assistant. All the darky's training came
+into play when his master was giving a dinner: what Madeira to decant,
+and what to leave in its jacket of dust, with its waistcoat of a label
+unlaundered for half a century; the temperature of the claret; the
+exact angle at which the Burgundy must be tilted and when it was to be
+opened--and how--especially the "how"--the disturbing of a single grain
+of sediment being a capital offence; the final brandies, particularly
+that old Peach Brandy hidden in Tom Coston's father's cellar during
+the war of 1812, and sent to that gentleman as an especial "mark of my
+appreciation to my dear friend and kinsman, St. George Wilmot Temple,"
+etc., etc.--all this Todd knew to his finger ends.
+
+For with St. George to dine meant something more than the mere
+satisfying of one's hunger. To dine meant to get your elbows next to
+your dearest friend--half a dozen or more of your dearest friends, if
+possible--to look into their faces, hear them talk, regale them with the
+best your purse afforded, and last and best of all to open for them your
+rarest wines--wines bred in the open, amid tender, clustering leaves;
+wines mellowed by a thousand sunbeams; nurtured, cared for, and put
+tenderly to sleep, only to awake years thereafter to warm the hearts and
+cheer the souls of those who honored them with their respect and never
+degraded them with their debauchery.
+
+As for the dishes themselves--here St. George with Jemima's help was
+pastmaster: dishes sizzling hot; dishes warm, and dishes stone cold.
+And their several arrivals and departures, accompanied by their several
+staffs: the soup as an advance guard--of gumbo or clams--or both if you
+chose; then a sheepshead caught off Cobb's Island the day before, just
+arrived by the day boat, with potatoes that would melt in your mouth--in
+gray jackets these; then soft-shell crabs--big, crisp fellows, with
+fixed bayonets of legs, and orderlies of cucumber--the first served on
+a huge silver platter with the coat-of-arms of the Temples cut in the
+centre of the rim and the last on an old English cut-glass dish. Then
+the woodcock and green peas--and green corn--their teeth in a broad
+grin; then an olio of pineapple, and a wonderful Cheshire cheese, just
+arrived in a late invoice--and marvellous crackers--and coffee--and
+fruit (cantaloupes and peaches that would make your mouth water), then
+nuts, and last a few crusts of dry bread! And here everything came to
+a halt and all the troops were sent back to the barracks--(Aunt Jemima
+will do for the barracks).
+
+With this there was to follow a change of base--a most important change.
+Everything eatable and drinkable and all the glasses and dishes were to
+be lifted from the table--one half at a time--the cloth rolled back and
+whisked away and the polished mahogany laid bare; the silver coasters
+posted in advantageous positions, and in was to rattle the light
+artillery:--Black Warrior of 1810--Port of 1815--a Royal Brown Sherry
+that nobody knew anything about, and had no desire to, so fragrant was
+it. Last of all the notched finger-bowls in which to cool the delicate,
+pipe-stem glasses; and then, and only then, did the real dinner begin.
+
+All this Todd had done dozens and dozens of times before, and all this
+(with Malachi's assistance--Richard Horn consenting--for there was
+nothing too good for the great poet) would Todd do again on this
+eventful night.
+
+As to the guests, this particular feast being given to the most
+distinguished literary genius the country had yet produced,--certainly
+the most talked of--those who were bidden were, of course, selected with
+more than usual care: Mr. John P. Kennedy, the widely known author and
+statesman, and Mr. John H. B. Latrobe, equally noteworthy as counsellor,
+mathematician, and patron of the fine arts, both of whom had been Poe's
+friends for years, and who had first recognized his genius; Richard
+Horn, who never lost an opportunity to praise him, together with Judge
+Pancoast, Major Clayton, the richest aristocrat about Kennedy Square and
+whose cellar was famous the county over--and last, the Honorable Prim.
+Not because old Seymour possessed any especial fitness one way or the
+other for a dinner of this kind, but because his presence would afford
+an underground communication by which Kate could learn how fine and
+splendid Harry was--(sly old diplomat St. George!)--and how well he
+had appeared at a table about which were seated the best Kennedy Square
+could produce.
+
+"I'll put you right opposite Mr. Poe, Harry--so you can study him at
+your leisure," St. George had said when discussing the placing of the
+guests, "and be sure you look at his hands, they are just like a girl's,
+they are so soft and white. And his eyes--you will never forget them.
+And there is an air about him too--an air of--well, a sort of haughty
+distraction--something I can't quite explain--as if he had a contempt
+for small things--things that you and I, and your father and all of us
+about here, believe in. Blood or no blood, he's a gentleman, even if he
+does come of very plain people;--and they were players I hear. It seems
+natural, when you think it over, that Latrobe and Kennedy and Horn
+should be men of genius, because their blood entitles them to it, but
+how a man raised as Mr. Poe has been should--well--all I can say is that
+he upsets all our theories."
+
+"But I think you are wrong, Uncle George, about his birth. I've been
+looking him up and his grandfather was a general in the Revolution."
+
+"Well, I'm glad of it--and I hope he was a very good general, and very
+much of a gentleman--but there is no question of his descendant being a
+wonder. But that is neither here nor there--you'll be right opposite and
+can study him in your own way."
+
+
+Mr. Kennedy arrived first. Although his family name is the same as that
+which dignifies the scene of these chronicles, none of his ancestors, so
+far as I know, were responsible for its title. Nor did his own domicile
+front on its confines. In fact, at this period of his varied and
+distinguished life, he was seldom seen in Kennedy Square, his duties at
+Washington occupying all his time, and it was by the merest chance that
+he could be present.
+
+"Ah, St. George!" he exclaimed, as he handed his hat to Todd and grasped
+his host's hand. "So very good of you to let me come. How cool and
+delicious it is in here--and the superb roses--Ah yes!--the old
+Castellux cup. I remember it perfectly; your father once gave me a sip
+from its rim when I was a young fellow. And now tell me--how is our
+genius? What a master-stroke is his last--the whole country is ringing
+with it. How did you get hold of him?"
+
+"Very easily. He wrote me he was passing through on his way to Richmond,
+and you naturally popped into my head as the proper man to sit next
+him," replied St. George in his hearty manner.
+
+"And you were on top of him, I suppose, before he got out of bed. Safer,
+sometimes," and he smiled significantly.
+
+"Yes, found him at Guy's. Sit here, Kennedy, where the air is cooler."
+
+"And quite himself?" continued the author, settling himself in a chair
+that St. George had just drawn out for him.
+
+"Perhaps a little thinner, and a little worn. It was only when I told
+him you were coming, that I got a smile out of him. He never forgets you
+and he never should."
+
+Again Todd answered the knocker and Major Clayton, Richard Horn, and Mr.
+Latrobe joined the group. The major, who was rather stout, apologized
+for his light seersucker coat, due, as he explained, to the heat,
+although his other garments were above criticism. Richard, however,
+looked as if he had just stepped out of an old portrait in his dull-blue
+coat and white silk scarf, St. George's eyes lighting up as he took in
+the combination--nothing pleased St. George so much as a well-dressed
+man, and Richard never disappointed him, while Latrobe, both in his
+dress and dignified bearing, easily held first place as the most
+distinguished looking man in the room.
+
+The Honorable Prim now stalked in and shook hands gravely and with much
+dignity, especially with Mr. Kennedy, whose career as a statesman he
+had always greatly admired. St. George often said, in speaking of this
+manner of the Scotchman's, that Prim's precise pomposity was entirely
+due to the fact that he had swallowed himself and couldn't digest the
+meal; that if he would once in a while let out a big, hearty laugh it
+might split his skin wide enough for him to get a natural breath.
+
+St. George kept his eyes on Harry when the boy stepped forward and shook
+Prim by the hand, but he had no need for anxiety. The face of the young
+prince lighted up and his manner was as gracious as if nothing had ever
+occurred to mar the harmony between the Seymour clan and himself.
+
+Everybody had seated themselves now--Malachi having passed around a
+course of palm-leaf fans--Clayton, Latrobe, and Horn at one open window
+overlooking the tired trees--it was in the dog days--Seymour and the
+judge at the other, while St. George took a position so that he could
+catch the first glimpse of the famous poet as he crossed the Square--(it
+was still light), the dinner hour having arrived and Todd already
+getting nervous.
+
+Once more the talk dwelt on the guest of honor--Mr. Kennedy, who, of all
+men of his time, could best appreciate Poe's genius, and who, with Mr.
+Latrobe, had kept it alive, telling for the hundredth time the old story
+of his first meeting with the poet, turning now and then to Latrobe for
+confirmation.
+
+"Oh, some ten or more years ago, wasn't it, Latrobe? We happened to be
+on the committee for awarding a prize story, and Poe had sent in his
+'Manuscript in a Bottle' among others. It would have broken your hearts,
+gentlemen, to have seen him. His black coat was buttoned up close to his
+chin--seedy, badly worn--he himself shabby and down at the heels, but
+erect and extremely courteous--a most pitiable object. My servant wasn't
+going to let him in at first, he looked so much the vagrant."
+
+"And you know, of course, Kennedy, that he had no shirt on under that
+coat, don't you?" rejoined Latrobe, rising from his seat as he spoke and
+joining St. George at the window.
+
+"Do you think so?" echoed Mr. Kennedy.
+
+"I am positive of it. He came to see me next day and wanted me to let
+him know whether he had been successful. He said if the committee only
+knew how much the prize would mean to him they would stretch a point in
+his favor. I am quite sure I told you about it at the time, St. George,"
+and he laid his hand on his host's shoulder.
+
+"There was no need of stretching it, Latrobe," remarked Richard Horn
+in his low, incisive voice, his eyes on Kennedy's face, although he
+was speaking to the counsellor. "You and Kennedy did the world a great
+service at the right moment. Many a man of brains--one with something
+new to say--has gone to the wall and left his fellow men that much
+poorer because no one helped him into the Pool of Healing at the
+right moment." (Dear Richard!--he was already beginning to understand
+something of this in his own experience.)
+
+Todd's entrance interrupted the talk for a moment. His face was screwed
+up into knots, both eyes lost in the deepest crease. "Fo' Gawd, Marse
+George," he whispered in his master's ear--"dem woodcock'll be sp'iled
+if dat gemman don't come!"
+
+St. George shook his head: "We will wait a few minutes more, Todd. Tell
+Aunt Jemima what I say."
+
+Clayton, who despite the thinness of his seersucker coat, had kept his
+palm-leaf fan busy since he had taken his seat, and who had waited until
+his host's ear was again free, now broke in cheerily:
+
+"Same old story of course, St. George. Another genius gone astray. Bad
+business, this bee of literature, once it gets to buzzing." Then with a
+quizzical glance at the author: "Kennedy is a lamentable example of what
+it has done for him. He started out as a soldier, dropped into law,
+and now is trying to break into Congress again--and all the time
+writes--writes--writes. It has spoiled everything he has tried to do
+in life--and it will spoil everything he touches from this on--and now
+comes along this man Poe, who--"
+
+"--No, he doesn't come along," chimed in Pancoast, who so far had kept
+silence, his palm-leaf fan having done all the talking. "I wish he
+would."
+
+"You are right, judge," chuckled Clayton, "and that is just my point.
+Here I say, comes along this man Poe and spoils my dinner. Something,
+I tell you, has got to be done or I shall collapse. By the way,
+Kennedy--didn't you send Poe a suit of clothes once in which to come to
+your house?"
+
+The distinguished statesman, who had been smiling at the major's
+good-natured badinage, made no reply: that was a matter between the poet
+and himself.
+
+"And didn't he keep everybody waiting?" persisted Clayton, "until your
+man found him and brought him back in your own outfit--only the shirt
+was four sizes too big for his bean-pole of a body. Am I right?" he
+laughed.
+
+"He has often dined with me, Clayton," replied Kennedy in his most
+courteous and kindly tone, ignoring the question as well as all allusion
+to his charity--"and never in all my experience have I ever met a more
+dazzling conversationalist. Start him on one of his weird tales and let
+him see that you are interested and in sympathy with him, and you will
+never forget it. He gave us parts of an unfinished story one night at my
+house, so tremendous in its power that every one was frozen stiff in his
+seat."
+
+Again Clayton cut in, this time to St. George. He was getting horribly
+hungry, as were the others. It was now twenty minutes past the dinner
+hour and there were still no signs of Poe, nor had any word come from
+him. "For mercy's sake, St. George, try the suit-of-clothes method--any
+suit of clothes--here--he can have mine! I'll be twice as comfortable
+without them."
+
+"He couldn't get into them," returned St. George with a smile--"nor
+could he into mine, although he is half our weight; and as for our
+hats--they wouldn't get further down on his head than the top of his
+crown."
+
+"But I insist on the experiment," bubbled Clayton good-naturedly.
+"Here we are, hungry as wolves and everything being burned up. Try the
+suit-of-clothes trick--Kennedy did it--and it won't take your Todd ten
+minutes to go to Guy's and bring him back inside of them."
+
+"Those days are over for Poe," Kennedy remarked with a slight frown. The
+major's continued allusions to a brother writer's poverty, though pure
+badinage, had begun to jar on the author.
+
+For the second time Todd's face was thrust in at the door. It now looked
+like a martyr's being slowly roasted at the stake.
+
+"Yes, Todd--serve dinner!" called St. George in a tone that showed how
+great was his disappointment. "We won't wait any longer, gentlemen.
+Geniuses must be allowed some leeway. Something has detained our guest."
+
+"He's got an idea in his head and has stopped in somewhere to write it
+down," continued Clayton in his habitual good-natured tone: it was the
+overdone woodcock--(he had heard Todd's warning)--that still filled his
+mind.
+
+"I could forgive him for that," exclaimed the judge--"some of his best
+work, I hear, has been done on the spur of the moment--and you should
+forgive him too, Clayton--unbeliever and iconoclast as you are--and you
+WOULD forgive him if you knew as much about new poetry as you do about
+old port."
+
+Clayton's stout body shook with laughter. "My dear Pancoast," he cried,
+"you do not know what you are talking about. No man living or dead
+should be forgiven who keeps a woodcock on the spit five minutes over
+time. Forgive him! Why, my dear sir, your poet ought to be drawn and
+quartered, and what is left of him boiled in oil. Where shall I sit, St.
+George?"
+
+"Alongside of Latrobe. Kennedy, I shall put you next to Poe's vacant
+chair--he knows and loves you best. Seymour, will you and Richard
+take your places alongside of Pancoast, and Harry, will you please sit
+opposite Mr. Kennedy?"
+
+And so the dinner began.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+
+Whether it was St. George's cheery announcement: "Well, gentlemen, I am
+sorry, but we still have each other, and so we will remember our guest
+in our hearts even if we cannot have his charming person," or whether
+it was that the absence of Poe made little difference when a dinner with
+St. George was in question--certain it is that before many moments the
+delinquent poet was for the most part forgotten.
+
+As the several dishes passed in review, Malachi in charge of the small
+arms--plates, knives, and forks--and Todd following with the heavier
+guns--silver platters and the like--the talk branched out to more
+diversified topics: the new omnibuses which had been allowed to run in
+the town; the serious financial situation, few people having recovered
+from the effects of the last great panic; the expected reception to
+Mr. Polk; the new Historical Society, of which every one present was a
+member except St. George and Harry; the successful experiments which the
+New York painter, a Mr. Morse, was making in what he was pleased to call
+Magnetic Telegraphy, and the absurdity of his claim that his invention
+would soon come into general use--every one commenting unfavorably
+except Richard Horn:--all these shuttlecocks being tossed into mid-air
+for each battledore to crack, and all these, with infinite tact the
+better to hide his own and his companions' disappointment over the loss
+of his honored guest--did St. George keep on the move.
+
+With the shifting of the cloth and the placing of the coasters--the
+nuts, crusts of bread, and finger-bowls being within easy reach--most
+of this desultory talk ceased. Something more delicate, more human, more
+captivating than sport, finance, or politics; more satisfying than
+all the poets who ever lived, filled everybody's mind. Certain Rip Van
+Winkles of bottles with tattered garments, dust-begrimed faces, and
+cobwebs in their hair were lifted tenderly from the side-board and
+awakened to consciousness (some of them hadn't opened their mouths for
+twenty years, except to have them immediately stopped with a new cork),
+and placed in the expectant coasters, Todd handling each one with the
+reverence of a priest serving in a temple. Crusty, pot-bellied old
+fellows, who hadn't uttered a civil word to anybody since they had
+been shut up in their youth, now laughed themselves wide open. A
+squat, lean-necked, jolly little jug without legs--labelled in
+ink--"Crab-apple, 1807," spread himself over as much of the mahogany
+as he could cover, and admired his fat shape upside down in its polish.
+Diamond-cut decanters--regular swells these--with silver chains and
+medals on their chests--went swaggering round, boasting of their
+ancestors; saying "Your good health" every time any one invited them to
+have a drop--or lose one--while a modest little demijohn--or rather a
+semi-demi-little-john--all in his wicker-basket clothes, with a card
+sewed on his jacket--like a lost boy (Peggy Coston of Wesley did the
+sewing) bearing its name and address--"Old Peach, 1796, Wesley, Eastern
+Shore," was placed on St. George's right within reach of his hand. "It
+reminds me of the dear woman herself, gentleman, in her homely outside
+and her warm, loving heart underneath, and I wouldn't change any part of
+it for the world."
+
+"What Madeira is this, St. George?" It was the judge who was
+speaking--he had not yet raised the thin glass to his lips; the old
+wine-taster was too absorbed in its rich amber color and in the delicate
+aroma, which was now reaching his nostrils. Indeed a new--several new
+fragrances, were by this time permeating the room.
+
+"It is the same, judge, that I always give you."
+
+"Not your father's Black Warrior?"
+
+"Yes, the 1810. Don't you recognize it? Not corked, is it?"
+
+"Corked, my dear man! It's a posy of roses. But I thought that was all
+gone."
+
+"No, there are a few bottles still in my cellar--some--How many are
+there, Todd, of the Black Warrior?"
+
+"Dat's de las' 'cept two, Marse George."
+
+"Dying in a good cause, judge--I'll send them to you to-morrow."
+
+"You'll do nothing of the kind, you spendthrift. Give them to Kennedy or
+Clayton."
+
+"No, give them to nobody!" laughed Kennedy. "Keep them where they are
+and don't let anybody draw either cork until you invite me to dinner
+again."
+
+"Only two bottles left," cried Latrobe in consternation! "Well, what the
+devil are we going to do when they are gone?--what's anybody going to
+do?" The "we" was the key to the situation. The good Madeira of Kennedy
+Square was for those who honored it, and in that sense--and that sense
+only--was common property.
+
+"Don't be frightened, Latrobe," laughed St. George--"I've got a lot
+of the Blackburn Reserve of 1812 left. Todd, serve that last bottle
+I brought up this morning--I put it in that low decanter next to--Ah,
+Malachi--you are nearest. Pass that to Mr. Latrobe, Malachi--Yes, that's
+the one. Now tell me how you like it. It is a little pricked, I think,
+and may be slightly bruised in the handling. I spent half an hour
+picking out the cork this morning--but there is no question of its
+value."
+
+"Yes," rejoined Latrobe, moistening his lips with the topaz-colored
+liquid--"it is a little bruised. I wouldn't have served it--better lay
+it aside for a month or two in the decanter. Are all your corks down to
+that, St. George?"
+
+"All the 1810 and '12--dry as powder some of them. I've got one over
+on the sideboard that I'm afraid to tackle"--here he turned to Clayton:
+"Major, you are the only man I know who can pick out a cork properly.
+Yes, Todd--the bottle at the end, next to that Burgundy--carefully now.
+Don't shake it, and--"
+
+"Well--but why don't YOU draw the cork yourself, St. George?"
+interrupted the major, his eyes on Todd, who was searching for the
+rarity among the others flanking the sideboard.
+
+"I dare not--that is, I'm afraid to try. You are the man for a cork
+like that--and Todd!--hand Major Clayton the corkscrew and one of those
+silver nutpicks."
+
+The Honorable Prim bent closer. "What is it, St. George, some old Port?"
+he asked in a perfunctory way. Rare old wines never interested him.
+"They are an affectation," he used to say.
+
+"No, Seymour--it's really a bottle of the Peter Remsen 1817 Madeira."
+
+The bottle was passed, every eye watching it with the greatest interest.
+
+"No, never mind the corkscrew, Todd,--I'll pick it out," remarked
+the major, examining the hazardous cork with the care of a watchmaker
+handling a broken-down chronometer. "You're right, St. George--it's too
+far gone. Don't watch me, Seymour, or I'll get nervous. You'll hoodoo
+it--you Scotchmen are the devil when it comes to anything fit to drink,"
+and he winked at Prim.
+
+"How much is there left of it, St. George?" asked Latrobe, watching the
+major manipulate the nutpick.
+
+"Not a drop outside that bottle."
+
+"Let us pray--for the cork," sighed Latrobe. "Easy--E-A-SY, major--think
+of your responsibility, man!"
+
+It was out now, the major dusting the opening with one end of his
+napkin--his face wreathed in smiles when his nostrils caught the first
+whiff of its aroma.
+
+"By Jupiter!--gentlemen!--When I'm being snuffed out I'll at least go
+like a gentleman if I have a drop of this on my lips. It's a bunch
+of roses--a veritable nosegay. Heavens!--what a bouquet! Some fresh
+glasses, Todd."
+
+Malachi and Todd both stepped forward for the honor of serving it, but
+the major waved them aside, and rising to his feet began the round of
+the table, filling each slender pipe-stem glass to the brim.
+
+Then the talk, which had long since drifted away from general topics,
+turned to the color and sparkle of some of the more famous wines
+absorbed these many years by their distinguished votaries. This
+was followed by the proper filtration and racking both of Ports and
+Madeiras, and whether milk or egg were best for the purpose--Kennedy
+recounting his experience of different vintages both here and abroad,
+the others joining in, and all with the same intense interest that a
+group of scientists or collectors would have evinced in discussing some
+new discovery in chemistry or physics, or the coming to light of some
+rare volume long since out of print--everybody, indeed, taking a hand
+in the discussion except Latrobe, whose mouth was occupied in the slow
+sipping of his favorite Madeira--tilting a few drops now and then on
+the end of his tongue, his eyes devoutly closed that he might the better
+relish its flavor and aroma.
+
+It was all an object lesson to Harry, who had never been to a dinner of
+older men--not even at his father's--and though at first he smiled at
+what seemed to him a great fuss over nothing, he finally began to take
+a broader view. Wine, then, was like food or music, or poetry--or
+good-fellowship--something to be enjoyed in its place--and never out of
+it. For all that, he had allowed no drop of anything to fall into his
+own glass--a determination which Todd understood perfectly, but which he
+as studiously chose to ignore--going through all the motions of filling
+the glass so as not to cause Marse Harry any embarrassment. Even the
+"1817" was turned down by the young man with a parrying gesture which
+caught the alert eyes of the major.
+
+"You are right, my boy," the bon vivant said sententiously. "It is a
+wine for old men. But look after your stomach, you dog--or you may wake
+up some fine morning and not be able to know good Madeira from bad. You
+young bloods, with your vile concoctions of toddies, punches, and other
+satanic brews, are fast going to the devil--your palates, I am speaking
+of. If you ever saw the inside of a distillery you would never drink
+another drop of whiskey. There's poison in every thimbleful. There's
+sunshine in this, sir!" and he held the glass to his eyes until the
+light of the candles flashed through it.
+
+"But I've never seen the inside or outside of a distillery in my life,"
+answered Harry with a laugh, a reply which did not in the least quench
+the major's enthusiasms, who went on dilating, wine-glass in hand, on
+the vulgarity of drinking STANDING UP--the habitual custom of whiskey
+tipplers--in contrast with the refinement of sipping wines SITTING
+DOWN--one being a vice and the other a virtue.
+
+Richard, too, had been noticing Harry. He had overheard, as the dinner
+progressed, a remark the boy had made to the guest next him, regarding
+the peculiar rhythm of Poe's verse--Harry repeating the closing lines
+of the poem with such keen appreciation of their meaning that Richard
+at once joined in the talk, commending him for his insight and
+discrimination. He had always supposed that Rutter's son, like all the
+younger bloods of his time, had abandoned his books when he left college
+and had affected horses and dogs instead. The discovery ended in his
+scrutinizing Harry's face the closer, reading between the lines--his
+father here, his mother there--until a quick knitting of the brows,
+and a flash from out the deep-brown eyes, upset all his preconceived
+opinions; he had expected grit and courage in the boy--there couldn't
+help being that when one thought of his father--but where did the lad
+get his imagination? Richard wondered--that which millions could not
+purchase. "A most engaging young man in spite of his madcap life," he
+said to himself--"I don't wonder St. George loves him."
+
+When the bell in the old church struck the hour of ten, Harry again
+turned to Richard and said with a sigh of disappointment:
+
+"I'm afraid it's too late to expect him--don't you think so?"
+
+"Yes, I fear so," rejoined Richard, who all through the dinner had never
+ceased to bend his ear to every sound, hoping for the rumble of wheels
+or the quick step of a man in the hall. "Something extraordinary must
+have happened to him, or he may have been called suddenly to Richmond
+and taken the steamboat." Then leaning toward his host he called across
+the table: "Might I make a suggestion, St. George?"
+
+St. George paused in his talk with Mr. Kennedy and Latrobe and raised
+his head:
+
+"Well, Richard?"
+
+"I was just saying to young Rutter here, that perhaps Mr. Poe has
+been called suddenly to Richmond and has sent you a note which has not
+reached you."
+
+"Or he might be ill," suggested Harry in his anxiety to leave no
+loophole through which the poet could escape.
+
+"Or he might be ill," repeated Richard--"quite true. Now would you mind
+if I sent Malachi to Guy's to find out?"
+
+"No, Richard--but I'll send Todd. We can get along, I expect, with
+Malachi until he gets back. Todd!"
+
+"Yes, sah."
+
+"You go to Guy's and ask Mr. Lampson if Mr. Poe is still in the hotel.
+If he is not there ask for any letter addressed to me and then come
+back. If he is in, go up to his room and present my compliments, and say
+we are waiting dinner for him."
+
+Todd's face lengthened, but he missed no word of his master's
+instructions. Apart from these his mind was occupied with the number of
+minutes it would take him to run all the way to Guy's Hotel, mount the
+steps, deliver his message, and race back again. Malachi, who was nearly
+twice his age, and who had had twice his experience, might be all right
+until he reached that old Burgundy, but "dere warn't nobody could handle
+dem corks but Todd; Malachi'd bust 'em sho' and spile 'em 'fo' he could
+git back."
+
+"'Spose dere ain't no gemman and no letter, den what?" he asked as a
+last resort.
+
+"Then come straight home."
+
+"Yes, sah," and he backed regretfully from the room and closed the door
+behind him.
+
+St. George turned to Horn again: "Very good idea, Richard--wonder I
+hadn't thought of it before. I should probably had I not expected
+him every minute. And he was so glad to come. He told me he had never
+forgotten the dinner at Kennedy's some years ago, and when he heard you
+would be here as well, his whole face lighted up. I was also greatly
+struck with the improvement in his appearance, he seemed more a man of
+the world than when I first knew him--carried himself better and was
+more carefully dressed. This morning when I went in he--"
+
+The door opened silently, and Todd, trembling all over, laid his hand on
+his master's shoulder, cutting short his dissertation.
+
+"Marse George, please sah, can I speak to you a minute?" The boy looked
+as if he had just seen a ghost.
+
+"Speak to me! Why haven't you taken my message, Todd?"
+
+"Yes, sah--dat is--can't ye step in de hall a minute, Marse
+George--now--right away?"
+
+"The hall!--what for?--is there anything the matter?"
+
+St. George pushed back his chair and followed Todd from the room:
+something had gone wrong--something demanding instant attention or Todd
+wouldn't be scared out of his wits. Those nearest him, who had overheard
+Todd's whispered words, halted in their talk in the hope of getting some
+clew to the situation; others, further away, kept on, unconscious that
+anything unusual had taken place.
+
+Several minutes passed.
+
+Again the door swung wide, and a man deathly pale, erect, faultlessly
+dressed in a full suit of black, the coat buttoned close to his chin,
+his cavernous eyes burning like coals of fire, entered on St. George's
+arm and advanced toward the group.
+
+Every guest was on his feet in an instant.
+
+"We have him at last!" cried St. George in his cheeriest voice. "A
+little late, but doubly welcome. Mr. Poe, gentlemen."
+
+Kennedy was the first to extend his hand, Horn crowding close, the
+others waiting their turn.
+
+Poe straightened his body, focussed his eyes on Kennedy, shook his
+extended hand gravely, but without the slightest sign of recognition,
+and repeated the same cold greeting to each guest in the room. He spoke
+no word--did not open his lips--only the mechanical movement of his
+outstretched hand--a movement so formal that it stifled all exclamations
+of praise on the part of the guests, or even of welcome. It was as if he
+had grasped the hands of strangers beside an open grave.
+
+Then the cold, horrible truth flashed upon them:
+
+Edgar Allan Poe was dead drunk!
+
+
+The silence that followed was appalling--an expectant silence like that
+which precedes the explosion of a bomb. Kennedy, who had known him
+the longest and best, and who knew that if his mind could once be set
+working he would recover his tongue and wits, having seen him before in
+a similar crisis, stepped nearer and laid both hands on Poe's shoulders.
+Get Poe to talking and he would be himself again; let him once be
+seated, and ten chances to one he would fall asleep at the table.
+
+"No, don't sit down, Mr. Poe--not yet. Give us that great story of
+yours--the one you told at my house that night--we have never forgotten
+it. Gentlemen, all take your seats--I promise you one of the great
+treats of your lives."
+
+Poe stood for an instant undecided, the light of the candles illumining
+his black hair, pallid face, and haggard features; fixed his eyes on
+Todd and Malachi, as if trying to account for their presence, and
+stood wavering, his deep, restless eyes gleaming like slumbering coals
+flashing points of hot light.
+
+Again Mr. Kennedy's voice rang out:
+
+"Any one of your stories, Mr. Poe--we leave it to you."
+
+Everybody was seated now, with eyes fixed on the poet. Harry, overcome
+and still dazed, pressed close to Richard, who, bending forward, had put
+his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand. Clayton wheeled up a big
+chair and placed it back some little distance so that he could get a
+better view of the man. Seymour, Latrobe, and the others canted their
+seats to face the speaker squarely. All felt that Kennedy's tact had
+saved the situation and restored the equilibrium. It was the poet now
+who stood before them--the man of genius--the man whose name was known
+the country through. That he was drunk was only part of the performance.
+Booth had been drunk when he chased a super from the stage; Webster made
+his best speeches when he was half-seas-over--was making them at that
+very moment. It was so with many other men of genius the world over. If
+they could hear one of Poe's poems--or, better still, one of his short
+stories, like "The Black Cat" or the "Murders in the Rue Morgue"--it
+would be like hearing Emerson read one of his Essays or Longfellow
+recite his "Hyperion." This in itself would atone for everything.
+Kennedy was right--it would be one of the rare treats of their lives.
+
+Poe grasped the back of the chair reserved for him, stood swaying for an
+instant, passed one hand nervously across his forehead, brushed back a
+stray lock that had fallen over his eyebrow, loosened the top button
+of his frock coat, revealing a fresh white scarf tied about his neck,
+closed his eyes, and in a voice deep, sonorous, choked with tears one
+moment, ringing clear the next--word by word--slowly--with infinite
+tenderness and infinite dignity and with the solemnity of a condemned
+man awaiting death--repeated the Lord's Prayer to the end.
+
+
+Kennedy sat as if paralyzed. Richard Horn, who had lifted up his hands
+in horror as the opening sentence reached his ears, lowered his head
+upon his chest as he would in church. There was no blasphemy in this! It
+was the wail of a lost soul pleading for mercy!
+
+Harry, cowering in his chair, gazed at Poe in amazement. Then a throb of
+such sympathy as he had never felt before shook him to his depths. Could
+that transfigured man praying there, the undried tears still on his
+lids, be the same who had entered on his uncle's arm but a few moments
+before?
+
+Poe lifted his head, opened his eyes, walked in a tired, hopeless way
+toward the mantel and sank into an easy-chair. There he sat with bowed
+head, his face in his hands.
+
+One by one the men rose to their feet and, with a nod or silent pressure
+of St. George's palm, moved toward the door. When they spoke to each
+other it was in whispers: to Todd, who brought their hats and canes; to
+Harry, whom, unconsciously, they substituted for host; shaking his hand,
+muttering some word of sympathy for St. George. No--they would find
+their way, better not disturb his uncle, etc. They would see him in
+the morning, etc., and thus the group passed out in a body and left the
+house.
+
+Temple himself was profoundly moved. The utter helplessness of the man;
+his abject and complete surrender to the demon which possessed him--all
+this appalled him. He had seen many drunken men in his time--roysterers
+and brawlers, most of them--but never one like Poe. The poet seemed to
+have lost his identity--nothing of the man of the world was left--in
+speech, thought, or movement.
+
+When Harry re-entered, his uncle was sitting beside the poet, who had
+not yet addressed him a word; nor had he again raised his head. Every
+now and then the sound of an indrawn breath would escape Poe, as if hot
+tears were choking him.
+
+St. George waved his hand meaningly.
+
+"Tell Todd I'll ring for him when I want him, Harry," he whispered, "and
+now do you go to sleep." Then, pointing to the crouching man, "He must
+stay in my bed here to-night; I won't leave him. What a pity! O God!
+what a pity! Poor fellow--how sorry I am for him!"
+
+Harry was even more affected. Terrified and awestruck, he mounted the
+stairs to his room, locked his chamber door, and threw himself on his
+bed, his mother's and Kate's pleadings sounding in his ears, his mind
+filled with the picture of the poet standing erect with closed eyes, the
+prayer his mother had taught him falling from his lips. This, then,
+was what his mother and Kate meant--this--the greatest of all
+calamities--the overthrow of a MAN.
+
+For the hundredth time he turned his wandering search-light into his own
+heart. The salient features of his own short career passed in review:
+the fluttering of the torn card as it fell to the floor; the sharp crack
+of Willits's pistol; the cold, harsh tones of his father's voice when
+he ordered him from the house; Kate's dear eyes streaming with tears
+and her uplifted hands--their repellent palms turned toward him as she
+sobbed--"Go away--my heart is broken!" And then the refrain of the poem
+which of late had haunted him night and day:
+
+     "Disaster following fast and following faster,
+     Till his song one burden bore,"
+
+and then the full, rich tones of Poe's voice pleading with his Maker:
+
+"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us."
+
+Yes:--Disaster had followed fast and faster. But why had it followed
+him? What had he done to bring all this misery upon himself? How could
+he have acted differently? Wherein had he broken any law he had been
+taught to uphold, and if he had broken it why should he not be forgiven?
+Why, too, had Kate turned away from him? He had promised her never to
+drink again; he had kept that promise, and, God helping him, he would
+always keep it, as would any other man who had seen what he had just
+seen to-night. Perhaps he had trespassed in the duel, and yet he would
+fight Willits again were the circumstances the same, and in this view
+Uncle George upheld him. But suppose he had trespassed--suppose he had
+committed a fault--as his father declared--why should not Kate forgive
+him? She had forgiven Willits, who was drunk, and yet she would not
+forgive him, who had not allowed a drop to pass his lips since he had
+given her his promise. How could she, who could do no wrong, expect to
+be forgiven herself when she not only shut her door in his face, but
+left him without a word or a line? How could his father ask forgiveness
+of his God when he would not forgive his son? Why were these two
+different from his mother and his Uncle George, and even old Alec--who
+had nothing but sympathy for him? Perhaps his education and training
+had been at fault. Perhaps, as Richard Horn had said, his standards of
+living were old-fashioned and quixotic.
+
+Only when the gray dawn stole in through the small window of his room
+did the boy fall asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+
+Not only Kennedy Square, but Moorlands, rang with accounts of the dinner
+and its consequences. Most of those who were present and who witnessed
+the distressing spectacle had only words of sympathy for the unfortunate
+man--his reverent manner, his contrite tones, and abject humiliation
+disarming their criticism. They felt that some sudden breaking down
+of the barriers of his will, either physical or mental, had led to the
+catastrophe. Richard Horn voiced the sentiments of Poe's sympathizers
+when, in rehearsing the episode the next afternoon at the club, he had
+said:
+
+"His pitiable condition, gentlemen, was not the result of debauchery.
+Poe neither spoke nor acted like a drunken man; he spoke and acted like
+a man whom a devil had overcome. It was pathetic, gentlemen, and it was
+heart-rending--really the most pitiful sight I ever remember witnessing.
+His anguish, his struggle, and his surrender I shall never forget; nor
+will his God--for the prayer came straight from his heart."
+
+"I don't agree with you, Horn," interrupted Clayton. "Poe was plumb
+drunk! It is the infernal corn whiskey he drinks that puts the devil
+in him. It may be he can't get anything else, but it's a damnable
+concoction all the same. Kennedy has about given him up--told me so
+yesterday, and when Kennedy gives a fellow up that's the last of him."
+
+"Then I'm ashamed of Kennedy," retorted Horn. "Any man who can write as
+Poe does should be forgiven, no matter what he does--if he be honest.
+There's nothing so rare as genius in this world, and even if his flame
+does burn from a vile-smelling wick it's a flame, remember!--and one
+that will yet light the ages. If I know anything of the literature
+of our time Poe will live when these rhymers like Mr. Martin Farquhar
+Tupper, whom everybody is talking about, will be forgotten. Poe's
+possessed of a devil, I tell you, who gets the better of him once in a
+while--it did the night of St. George's dinner."
+
+"Very charitable in you, Richard," exclaimed Pancoast, another
+dissenter--"and perhaps it will be just as well for his family, if he
+has any, to accept your view--but, devil or no devil, you must confess,
+Horn, that it was pretty hard on St. George. If the man has any sense of
+refinement--and he must have from the way he writes--the best way out of
+it is for him to own up like a man and say that Guy's barkeeper filled
+him too full of raw whiskey, and that he didn't come to until it was too
+late--that he was very sorry, and wouldn't do it again. That's what I
+would have done, and that's what you, Richard, or any other gentleman,
+would have done."
+
+Others, who got their information second hand, followed the example of
+St. George's guests censuring or excusing the poet in accordance with
+their previous likes or dislikes. The "what-did-I-tell-yous"--Bowdoin
+among them--and there were several--broke into roars of laughter when
+they learned what had happened in the Temple mansion. So did those who
+had not been invited, and who still felt some resentment at St. George's
+oversight.
+
+Another group; and these were also to be found at the club--thought only
+of St. George--old Murdock, voicing their opinions when he said: "Temple
+laid himself out, so I hear, on that dinner, and some of us know what
+that means. And a dinner like that, remember, counts with St. George. In
+the future it will be just as well to draw the line at poets as well as
+actors."
+
+The Lord of Moorlands had no patience with any of their views. Whether
+Poe was a drunkard or not did not concern him in the least. What did
+trouble him was the fact that St. George's cursed independence had made
+him so far forget himself and his own birth and breeding as to place a
+chair at his table for a man in every way beneath him. Hospitality of
+that kind was understandable in men like Kennedy and Latrobe--one the
+leading literary light of his State, whose civic duties brought him in
+contact with all classes--the other a distinguished man of letters as
+well as being a poet, artist, and engineer, who naturally touched the
+sides of many personalities. So, too, might Richard Horn be excused for
+stretching the point--he being a scientist whose duty it was to welcome
+to his home many kinds of people--this man Morse among them, with his
+farcical telegraph; a man in the public eye who seemed to be more or
+less talked about in the press, but of whom he himself knew nothing, but
+why St. George Temple, who in all probability had never read a line
+of Poe's or anybody else's poetry in his life, should give this sot a
+dinner, and why such sane gentlemen as Seymour, Clayton, and
+Pancoast should consider it an honor to touch elbows with him, was as
+unaccountable as it was incredible.
+
+Furthermore--and this is what rankled deepest in his heart--St. George
+was subjecting his only son, Harry, to corrupting influences, and at a
+time, too, when the boy needed the uplifting examples of all that was
+highest in men and manners.
+
+"And you tell me, Alec," he blazed out on hearing the details, "that
+the fellow never appeared until the dinner was all over and then came in
+roaring drunk?"
+
+"Well, sah, I ain't yered nothin' 'bout de roarin', but he suttinly was
+'how-come-ye-so'--fer dey couldn't git 'im upstairs 'less dey toted him
+on dere backs. Marse George Temple gin him his own baid an' sot up mos'
+ob de night, an' dar he stayed fur fo' days till he come to. Dat's what
+Todd done tol' me, an' I reckon Todd knows."
+
+The colonel was in his den when this conversation took place. He was
+generally to be found there since the duel. Often his wife, or Alec, or
+some of his neighbors would surprise him buried in his easy-chair, an
+unopened book in his hand, his eyes staring straight ahead as if trying
+to grasp some problem which repeatedly eluded him. After the episode at
+the club he became more absorbed than ever. It was that episode, indeed,
+which had vexed him most. Not that St. George's tongue-lashing worried
+him--nor did Harry's blank look of amazement linger in his thoughts. St.
+George, he had to confess to himself as he battled with the questions,
+was the soul of honor and had not meant to insult him. It was Temple's
+love for Harry which had incited the quixotic onslaught, for, as he
+knew, St. George dearly loved the boy, and this in itself wiped all
+resentment from the autocrat's heart. As to Harry's attitude toward
+himself, this he continued to reason was only a question of time. That
+young upstart had not learned his lesson yet--a harsh lesson, it was
+true, and one not understood by the world at large--but then the world
+was not responsible for his son's bringing up. When the boy had learned
+it, and was willing to acknowledge the error of his ways, then, perhaps,
+he might kill the fatted calf--that is, of course, if the prodigal
+should return on all fours and with no stilted and untenable ideas about
+his rights--ideas that St. George, of course, was instilling into him
+every chance he got.
+
+So far, however, he had had to admit to himself that while he had kept
+steady watch of the line of hills skirting his mental horizon, up to
+the present moment no young gentleman in a dilapidated suit of clothes,
+inverted waist measure, and lean legs had shown himself above the sky
+line. On the contrary, if all reports were true--and Alec omitted no
+opportunity to keep him advised of Marse Harry's every movement--the
+young Lord of Moorlands was having the time of his life, even if his
+sweetheart had renounced him and his father forced him into exile. Not
+only had he found a home and many comforts at Temple's--being treated as
+an honored guest alongside of such men as Kennedy and Latrobe, Pancoast,
+and the others, but now that St. George had publicly declared him to
+be his heir, these distinctive marks of his approbation were likely
+to continue. Nor could he interfere, even if he wished to--which, of
+course, he did not, and never could so long as he lived.... "Damn him!"
+etc., etc. And with this the book would drop from his lap and he begin
+pacing the floor, his eyes on the carpet, his broad shoulders bent in
+his anxiety to solve the problem which haunted him night and day:--how
+to get Harry back under his roof and not yield a jot or tittle of his
+pride or will--or, to be more explicit, now that the mountain would not
+come to Mahomet, how could Mahomet get over to the mountain?
+
+His friend and nearest neighbor, John Gorsuch, who was also his man
+of business, opened the way. The financier's clerk had brought him
+a letter, just in by the afternoon coach, and with a glance at its
+contents the shrewd old fellow had at once ordered his horse and set
+out for Moorlands, some two miles distant. Nor did he draw rein or break
+gallop until he threw the lines to a servant beside the lower step of
+the colonel's porch.
+
+"It's the Patapsco again! It will close its doors before the week is
+out!" he cried, striding into the library, where the colonel, who had
+just come in from inspecting a distant field on his estate, sat dusting
+his riding-boots with his handkerchief.
+
+"Going to stop payment! Failed! What the devil do you mean, John?"
+
+"I mean just what I say! Everything has gone to bally-hack in the city.
+Here's a letter I have just received from Harding--he's on the inside,
+and knows. He thinks there's some crooked business about it; they have
+been loaning money on all sorts of brick-bats, he says, and the end has
+come, or will to-morrow. He wanted to post me in time."
+
+The colonel tossed his handkerchief on his writing-table: "Who will be
+hurt?" he asked hurriedly, ignoring the reference to the dishonesty of
+the directors.
+
+"Oh!--a lot of people. Temple, I know, keeps his account there. He was
+short of cash a little while ago, for young Pawson, who has his law
+office in the basement of his house, offered me a mortgage on his
+Kennedy Square property, but I hadn't the money at the time and didn't
+take it. If he got it at last--and he paid heavily for it if he did--the
+way things have been going--and if he put that money in the Patapsco, it
+will be a bad blow to him. Harry, I hear, is with him--so I thought you
+ought to know."
+
+Rutter had given a slight start at the mention of Temple's name among
+the crippled, and a strange glitter still lingered in his eyes.
+
+"Then I presume my son is dependent on a beggar," he exclaimed, rising
+from his seat, stripping off his brown velveteen riding-jacket and
+hanging it in a closet behind his chair.
+
+"Yes, it looks that way."
+
+Gorsuch was watching the colonel closely. He had another purpose in
+making his breakneck ride. He didn't have a dollar in the Patapsco, and
+he knew the colonel had not; he, like himself, was too shrewd a man to
+be bitten twice by the same dog; but he had a large interest in Harry
+and would leave no stone unturned to bring father and son together.
+
+The colonel again threw himself into his chair, stretched out
+his slender, well-turned legs, crooked one of his russet-leather
+riding-boots to be sure the spurs were still in place, and said
+slowly--rather absently, as if the subject did not greatly interest him:
+
+"Patapsco failed and St. George a beggar, eh?--Too bad!--too bad!" Then
+some disturbing suspicions must have entered his head, for he roused
+himself, looked at Gorsuch keenly, and asked in a searching tone: "And
+you came over full tilt, John, to tell me this?"
+
+"I thought you might help. St. George needs all the friends he's got if
+this is true--and it looks to me as if it was," answered Gorsuch in a
+casual way.
+
+Rutter relaxed his gaze and resumed his position. Had his suspicions
+been correct that Gorsuch's interest in Harry was greater than his
+interest in the bank's failure, he would have resented it even from John
+Gorsuch.
+
+Disarmed by the cool, unflinching gaze of his man of business, his mind
+again took up in review all the incidents connected with St. George and
+his son, and what part each had played in them.
+
+That Temple--good friend as he had always been--had thwarted him in
+every attempt to bring about a reconciliation between himself and Harry,
+had been apparent from the very beginning of the difficulty. Even
+the affair at the club showed it. This would have ended quite
+differently--and he had fully intended it should--had not St. George,
+with his cursed officiousness, interfered with his plans. For what he
+had really proposed to himself to do, on that spring morning when he had
+rolled up to the club in his coach, was to mount the steps, ignore his
+son at first, if he should run up against him--(and he had selected the
+very hour when he hoped he would run up against him)--and then, when the
+boy broke down, as he surely must, to forgive him like a gentleman and
+a Rutter, and this, too, before everybody. Seymour would see it--Kate
+would hear of it, and the honor of the Rutters remain unblemished.
+Moreover, this would silence once and for all those gabblers who had
+undertaken to criticise him for what they called his inhumanity in
+banishing this only son when he was only trying to bring up that child
+in the way he should go. Matters seemed to be coming his way. The
+failure of the Patapsco might be his opportunity. St. George would be at
+his wits' end; Harry would be forced to choose between the sidewalk and
+Moorlands, and the old life would go on as before.
+
+All these thoughts coursed through his mind as he leaned back in his
+chair, his lips tight set, the jaw firm and determined--only the lids
+quivering as he mastered the tears that crept to their edges. Now and
+then, in his mental absorption, he would absently cross his legs only
+to straighten them out again, his state of mind an open book to Gorsuch,
+who had followed the same line of reasoning and who had brought the news
+himself that he might the better watch its effect.
+
+"I'm surprised that Temple should select the Patapsco. It has never got
+over its last smash of four years ago," Gorsuch at last remarked. He did
+not intend to let the topic drift away from Harry if he could help it.
+
+"I am not surprised, John. St. George is the best fellow in the world,
+but he never lets anything work but his heart. When you get at the
+bottom of it you will find that he's backed up the bank because some
+poor devil of a teller or clerk, or may be some director, is his friend.
+That's enough for St. George, and further than that he never goes. He's
+thrown away two fortunes now--his grandmother's, which was small but
+sound--and his father's, which if he had attended to it would have kept
+him comfortable all his life."
+
+"You had some words at the club, I heard," interjected Gorsuch.
+
+"No, he had some words, I had a julep," and the colonel smiled grimly.
+
+"But you are still on good terms, are you not?"
+
+"I am, but he isn't. But that is of no consequence. No man in his senses
+would ever get angry with St. George, no matter what he might say or
+do. He hasn't a friend in the world who could be so ill bred. And as to
+calling him out--you would as soon think of challenging your wife. St.
+George talks from his heart, never his head. I have loved him for thirty
+years and know exactly what I am talking about--and yet let me tell
+you, Gorsuch, that with all his qualities--and he is the finest-bred
+gentleman I know--he can come closer to being a natural born fool than
+any man of his years and position in Kennedy Square. This treatment of
+my son--whom I am trying to bring up a gentleman--is one proof of
+it, and this putting all his eggs into one basket--and that a rotten
+basket--is another."
+
+"Well, then--if that is your feeling about it, colonel, why not go and
+see him? As I have said, he needs all the friends he's got at a time
+like this." If he could bring the two men together the boy might
+come home. Not to be able to wave back to Harry as he dashed past on
+Spitfire, had been a privation which the whole settlement had felt.
+"That is, of course," he continued, "if St. George Temple would be
+willing to receive you. He would be--wouldn't he?"
+
+"I don't know, John--and I don't care. If I should make up my mind to
+go--remember, I said 'IF'--I'd go whether he liked it or not."
+
+He HAD made up his mind--had made it up at the precise moment the
+announcement of the bank's failure and St. George's probable ruin had
+dropped from Gorsuch's lips--but none of this must Gorsuch suspect. He
+would still be the doge and Virginius; he alone must be the judge of
+when and how and where he would show leniency. Generations of Rutters
+were behind him--this boy was in the direct line--connecting the past
+with the present--and on Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands, and on
+no other, rested the responsibility of keeping the glorious name
+unsmirched.
+
+
+Todd, with one of the dogs at his heels, opened the door for him,
+smothering a "Gor-a-Mighty!--sumpin's up fo' sho'!" when his hand
+turned the knob. He had heard the clatter of two horses and their sudden
+pull-up outside, and looking out, had read the situation at a glance.
+Old Matthew was holding the reins of both mounts at the moment, for the
+colonel always rode in state. No tying to hitching-posts or tree-boxes,
+or picking up of a loose negro to watch his restless steed when he had a
+stable full of thoroughbreds and quarters packed with grooms.
+
+"Yes, Marse Colonel--yes, sah--Marse George is inside--yes, sah--but
+Marse Harry's out." He had not asked for Harry, but Todd wanted him to
+get all the facts in case there was to be another such scene as black
+John described had taken place at the club on the occasion of the
+colonel's last visit to the Chesapeake.
+
+"Then I'll go in unannounced, and you need not wait, Todd."
+
+St. George was in his arm-chair by the mantel looking over one of his
+heavy ducking-guns when the Lord of Moorlands entered. He was the
+last man in the world he expected to see, but he did not lose his
+self-control or show in any way his surprise. He was host, and Rutter
+was his guest; nothing else counted now.
+
+St. George rose to his feet, laid the gun carefully on the table, and
+with a cold smile on his face--one of extreme courtesy--advanced to
+greet him.
+
+"Ah, Talbot--it has been some time since I had this pleasure. Let me
+draw up a chair for you--I'll ring for Todd and--"
+
+"No, St. George. I prefer to talk to you alone."
+
+"Todd is never an interruption."
+
+"He may be to-day. I have something to say to you--and I don't want
+either to be interrupted or misunderstood. You and I have known each
+other too many years to keep up this quarrel; I am getting rather sick
+of it myself."
+
+St. George shrugged his shoulders, placed the gun carefully in the rack
+by the door, and maintained an attentive attitude. He would either fight
+or make peace, but he must first learn the conditions. In the meantime
+he would hold his peace.
+
+Rutter strode past him to the fireplace, opened his riding-jacket, laid
+his whip on the mantel, and with his hands deep in his breeches pockets
+faced the room and his host, who had again taken his place by the table.
+
+"The fact is, St. George, I have been greatly disturbed of late by
+reports which have reached me about my son. He is with you, I presume?"
+
+St. George nodded.
+
+Rutter waited for a verbal reply, and receiving none, forged on: "Very
+greatly disturbed; so much so that I have made an especial trip from
+Moorlands to call upon you and ascertain their truth."
+
+Again St. George nodded, the smile--one of extreme civility now--still
+on his face. Then he added, flicking some stray grains of tobacco from
+his sleeve with his fingers: "That was very good of you, Talbot--but go
+on--I'm listening."
+
+The colonel's eyes kindled. Temple's perfect repose--something he had
+not expected--was beginning to get on his nerves, He cleared his throat
+impressively and continued, his voice rising in intensity:
+
+"Instead of leading the life of a young man brought up as a gentleman,
+I hear he is consorting with the lowest class of people here in your
+house--people who--"
+
+"--Are my guests," interrupted St. George calmly--loosening the buttons
+of his coat in search of his handkerchief--there being more tobacco on
+his clothes than he had supposed.
+
+"Yes, you have hit it exactly--your guests--and that is another thing I
+have come to tell you, for neither I nor your friends can understand how
+a man of your breeding should want to surround himself with----Is it
+necessary that you should understand, Talbot?"--same low, incisive but
+extremely civil voice, almost monotonous in its cadences. The cambric
+was in full play now.
+
+"Of course it is necessary when it affects my own flesh and blood. You
+know as well as I do that this sot, Poe, is not a fit companion for a
+boy raised as my Harry has been--a man picked out of the gutter--his
+family a lot of play-actors--even worse, I hear. A fellow who staggers
+into your house dead drunk and doesn't sober up for a week! It's
+scandalous!"
+
+Again St. George shrugged his shoulders, but one hand was tight shut
+this time, the steel claws protruding, the handkerchief alone saving
+their points from pressing into the palms.
+
+"And is that what you came from Moorlands to tell me, Talbot?" remarked
+St. George casually, adjusting the lapels of his coat.
+
+"Yes!" retorted Rutter--he was fast losing what was left of his
+self-control--"that and some other things! But we will attend to Harry
+first. You gave that boy shelter when--"
+
+"Please state it correctly, Talbot. We can get on better if you stick to
+the facts." The words came slowly, but the enunciation was as perfect
+as if each syllable had been parted with a knife. "I didn't give him
+shelter--I gave him a home--one you denied him. But go on--I prefer to
+hear you out."
+
+The colonel's eyes blazed. He had never seen St. George like this: it
+was Temple's hot outbursts that had made him so easy an adversary in
+their recent disputes.
+
+"And you will please do the same, St. George," he demanded in his most
+top-lofty tone, ignoring his opponent's denial. "You know perfectly well
+I turned him out of Moorlands because he had disgraced his blood, and
+yet you--my life-long friend--have had the bad taste to interfere and
+drag him down still lower, so that now, instead of coming to his
+senses and asking my pardon, he parades himself at the club and at your
+dinners, putting on the airs of an injured man."
+
+St. George drew himself up to his full height.
+
+"Let us change the subject, Talbot, or we will both forget ourselves.
+If you have anything to say to me that will benefit Harry and settle the
+difficulty between him and you, I will meet you more than half-way,
+but I give you fair warning that the apology must come from you. You
+have--if you will permit me to say it in my own house--behaved more like
+a brute than a father. I told you so the night you turned him out in the
+rain for me to take care of, and I told you so again at the club when
+you tried to make a laughing-stock of him before your friends--and now I
+tell you so once more! Come!--let us drop the subject--what may I offer
+you to drink?--you must be rather chilled with your ride in."
+
+Rutter was about to flare out a denial when his better judgment got
+the best of him; some other tactics than the ones he had used must
+be brought into play. So far he had made but little headway against
+Temple's astounding coolness.
+
+"And I am to understand, then, that you are going to keep him here?"
+he demanded, ignoring both his host's criticisms and his proffered
+hospitality.
+
+"I certainly am"--he was abreast of him now, his eyes boring into
+his--"just as long as he wishes to stay, which I hope will be all his
+life, or until you have learned to be decent to him. And by decency, I
+mean companionship, and love, and tenderness--three things which your
+damned, high-toned notions have always deprived him of!" His voice was
+still under control, although the emphasis was unmistakable.
+
+Rutter made a step forward, his eyes flashing, his teeth set:
+
+"You have the impertinence, sir, to charge me with----"
+
+"--Yes!--and it's true and you know it's true!"--the glance, steady as
+a rifle, had not wavered. "No, you needn't work yourself up into a
+passion--and as for your lordly, dictatorial airs, I am past the age
+when they affect me--keep them for your servants. By God!--what a farce
+it all is! Let us talk of something else--I am tired of it!"
+
+The words cut like a whip, but the Lord of Moorlands had come to get
+his son, not to fight St. George. Their sting, however, had completely
+changed his plans. Only the club which Gorsuch had put into his hands
+would count now.
+
+"Yes--a damnable farce!" he thundered, "and one played by a man with
+beggary staring him straight in the face, and yet to hear you talk one
+would think you were a Croesus! You mortgaged this house to get ready
+money, did you not?" He was not sure, but this was no time in which to
+split words.
+
+St. George turned quickly: "Who told you that?"
+
+"Is it true?"
+
+"Yes! Do you suppose I would let Harry sneak around corners to avoid his
+creditors?"
+
+The colonel gave an involuntary start, the blood mounting to the roots
+of his hair, and as suddenly paled:
+
+"You tell me that--you dared to--pay Harry's debts?" he stammered in
+amazement.
+
+"Dared!" retorted St. George, lifting his chin contemptuously. "Really,
+Talbot, you amuse me. When you set that dirty hound Gadgem on his trail,
+what did you expect me to do?--invite the dog to dinner?--or have him
+sleep in the house until I sold furniture enough to get rid of him?"
+
+The colonel leaned back against the mantel's edge as if for support.
+All the fight was out of him. Not only was the situation greatly
+complicated, but he himself was his host's debtor. The seriousness of
+the whole affair confronted him. For a brief instant he gazed at the
+floor, his eyes on the hearthrug, "Have you any money left, St. George?"
+he asked. His voice was subdued enough now. Had he been his solicitor he
+could not have been more concerned.
+
+"Yes, a few thousand," returned St. George. He saw that some unexpected
+shot had hit the colonel, but he did not know he had fired it.
+
+"Left over from the mortgage, I suppose?--less what you paid out for
+Harry?"
+
+"Yes, left over from the mortgage, less what I paid Gadgem," he bridled.
+"If you have brought any more of Harry's bills hand them out. Why the
+devil you ask, Talbot, is beyond my ken, but I have no objection to your
+knowing."
+
+Rutter waved his hand impatiently, with a deprecating gesture; such
+trifles were no longer important.
+
+"You bank with the Patapsco, do you not?" he asked calmly. "Answer me,
+please, and don't think I'm trying to pry into your affairs. The
+matter is much more serious than you seem to think." The tone was so
+sympathetic that St. George looked closer into his antagonist's face,
+trying to read the cause.
+
+"Always with the Patapsco. I have kept my account there for years," he
+rejoined simply. "Why do you want to know?"
+
+"Because it has closed its doors--or will in a few hours. It is
+bankrupt!"
+
+There was no malice in his tone, nor any note of triumph. That St.
+George had beggared himself to pay his son's debts had wiped that clear.
+He was simply announcing a fact that caused him the deepest concern.
+
+St. George's face paled, and for a moment a peculiar choking movement
+started in his throat.
+
+"Bankrupt!--the Patapsco! How do you know?" He had heard some ugly
+rumors at the club a few days before, but had dismissed them as part of
+Harding's croakings.
+
+"John Gorsuch received a letter last night from one of the directors;
+there is no doubt of its truth. I have suspected its condition for some
+time, so has Gorsuch. This brought me here. You see now how impossible
+it is for my son to be any longer a burden on you."
+
+St. George walked slowly across the room and drawing out a chair settled
+himself to collect his thoughts the better;--he had remained standing
+as the better way to terminate the interview should he be compelled
+to exercise that right. The two announcements had come like successive
+blows in the face. If the news of the bank's failure was true he was
+badly, if not hopelessly, crippled--this, however, would wait, as
+nothing he might do could prevent the catastrophe. The other--Harry's
+being a burden to him--must be met at once.
+
+He looked up and caught the colonel's eye scrutinizing his face.
+
+"As to Harry's being a burden," St. George said slowly, his lip curling
+slightly--"that is my affair. As to his remaining here, all I have to
+say is that if a boy is old enough to be compelled to pay his debts
+he is old enough to decide where he will live. You have yourself
+established that rule and it will be carried out to the letter."
+
+Rutter's face hardened: "But you haven't got a dollar in the world to
+spare!"
+
+"That may be, but it doesn't altar the situation; it rather strengthens
+it." He rose from his chair: "I think we are about through now, Talbot,
+and if you will excuse me I'll go down to the bank and see what is the
+matter. I will ring for Todd to bring your hat and coat." He did not
+intend to continue the talk. There had just been uncovered to him a
+side of Talbot Rutter's nature which had shocked him as much as had the
+threatened loss of his money. To use his poverty as a club to force him
+into a position which would be dishonorable was inconceivable in a man
+as well born as his antagonist, but it was true: he could hardly refrain
+from telling him so. He had missed, it may be said, seeing another
+side--his visitor's sympathy for him in his misfortune. That,
+unfortunately, he did not see: fate often plays such tricks with us all.
+
+The colonel stepped in front of him: his eyes had an ugly look in
+them--the note of sympathy was gone.
+
+"One moment, St. George! How long you are going to keep up this fool
+game, I don't know; but my son stays here on one condition, and on one
+condition only, and you might as well understand it now. From this time
+on I pay his board. Do you for one instant suppose I am going to let you
+support him, and you a beggar?"
+
+St. George made a lunge toward the speaker as if to strike him. Had
+Rutter fired point-blank at him he could not have been more astounded.
+For an instant he stood looking into his face, then whirled suddenly and
+swung wide the door.
+
+"May I ask you, Talbot, to leave the room, or shall I? You certainly
+cannot be in your senses to make me a proposition like that. This thing
+has got to come to an end, and NOW! I wish you good-morning."
+
+The colonel lifted his hands in a deprecatory way.
+
+"As you will, St. George."
+
+And without another word the baffled autocrat strode from the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+
+There was no one at home when Harry returned except Todd, who, having
+kept his position outside the dining-room door during the heated
+encounter, had missed nothing of the interview. What had puzzled the
+darky--astounded him really--was that no pistol-shot had followed his
+master's denouncement and defiance of the Lord of Moorlands. What had
+puzzled him still more was hearing these same antagonists ten minutes
+later passing the time o' day, St. George bowing low and the colonel
+touching his hat as he passed out and down to where Matthew and his
+horses were waiting.
+
+It was not surprising, therefore, that Todd's recital to Harry came in a
+more or less disjointed and disconnected form.
+
+"You say, Todd," he exclaimed in astonishment, "that my father was
+here!" Our young hero was convinced that the visit did not concern
+himself, as he was no longer an object of interest to any one at home
+except his mother and Alec.
+
+"Dat he was, sah, an' b'ilin' mad. Dey bofe was, on'y Marse George lay
+low an' de colonel purty nigh rid ober de top ob de fence. Fust Marse
+George sass him an' den de colonel sass him back. Purty soon Marse
+George say he gwinter speak his min'--and he call de colonel a brute an'
+den de colonel riz up an' say Marse George was a beggar and a puttin'
+on airs when he didn't hab 'nough money to buy hisse'f a 'tater; an' den
+Marse George r'ared and pitched--Oh I tell ye he ken be mighty sof' and
+persimmony when he's tame--and he's mos' allers dat way--but when his
+dander's up, and it suttinly riz to-day, he kin make de fur fly. Dat's
+de time you wanter git outer de way or you'll git hurted."
+
+"Who did you say was the beggar?" It was all Greek to Harry.
+
+"Why, Marse George was--he was de one what was gwine hongry. De colonel
+'lowed dat de bank was busted an'--"
+
+"What bank?"
+
+"Why de 'Tapsco--whar Marse George keep his money. Ain't you see me
+comin' from dar mos' ebery day?"
+
+"But it hasn't failed, has it?" He was still wondering what the quarrel
+was about.
+
+"Wall, I dunno, but I reckon sumpin's de matter, for no sooner did de
+colonel git on his horse and ride away dan Marse George go git his hat
+and coat hisse'f and make tracks th'ou' de park by de short cut--and you
+know he neber do dat 'cept when he's in a hurry, and den in 'bout a ha'f
+hour he come back ag'in lookin' like he'd seed de yahoo, only he was
+mad plump th'ou'; den he hollered for me quick like, and sont me down
+underneaf yere to Mr. Pawson to know was he in, and he was, and I done
+tol' him, and he's dar now. He ain't neber done sont me down dar 'cept
+once sence I been yere, and dat was de day dat Gadgem man come snuffin'
+roun'. Trouble comin'."
+
+Harry had now begun to take in the situation. It was evidently a matter
+of some moment or Pawson would not have been consulted.
+
+"I'll go down myself, Todd," he said with sudden resolve.
+
+"Better lem'me tell him you're yere, Marse Harry."
+
+"No, I'll go now," and he turned on his heel and descended the front
+steps.
+
+On the street side of the house, level with the bricks, was a door
+opening into a low-ceiled, shabbily furnished room, where in the old
+days General Dorsey Temple, as has been said, shared his toddies with
+his cronies. There he found St. George seated at a long table piled
+high with law books and papers--the top covered with a green baize cloth
+embroidered with mice holes and decorated with ink stains. Beside him
+was a thin, light-haired, young man, with a long, flexible neck and
+abnormally high forehead, over-doming a shrewd but not unkindly face.
+The two were poring over a collection of papers.
+
+The young lawyer rose to his feet, a sickly, deferential smile playing
+along his straight lips. Young aristocrats of Harry's blood and breeding
+did not often darken Pawson's door, and he was extremely anxious that
+his guest should in some way be made aware of his appreciation of that
+fact. St. George did not move, nor did he take any other notice of
+the boy's appearance than to fasten his eyes upon him for a moment in
+recognition of his presence.
+
+But Harry could not wait.
+
+"Todd has just told me, Uncle George, that"--he caught the grave
+expression on Temple's face--"Why!--Uncle George--there isn't anything
+the matter, is there? It isn't true that the--"
+
+St. George raised his head: "What isn't true, Harry?"
+
+"That the Patapsco Bank is in trouble?"
+
+"No, I don't think so. The bank, so far as I know, is all right; it's
+the depositors who are in trouble," and one of his quaint smiles lighted
+up his face.
+
+"Broken!--failed!" cried Harry, still in doubt as to the extent of the
+catastrophe, but wishing to be sympathetic and proportionably astounded
+as any well-bred young man should be when his best friend was unhappy.
+
+"I'm afraid it is, Harry--in fact I know it is--bankrupt in character as
+well as in balances--a bad-smelling, nasty mess, to tell you the truth.
+That's not only my own opinion, but the opinion of every man whom I
+have seen, and there was quite an angry mob when I reached the teller's
+window this morning. That is your own opinion also, is it not, Mr.
+Pawson?--your legal summing up, I mean."
+
+The young attorney stretched out his spare colorless hands; opened wide
+his long, double-jointed fingers; pressed their ten little cushions
+together, and see-sawing the bunch in front of his concave waistcoat,
+answered in his best professional voice:
+
+"As to being bankrupt of funds I should say there was no doubt of that
+being their condition; as to any criminal intent or practices--that, of
+course, gentlemen"--and he shrugged his shoulders in a non-committal,
+non-actionable way--"is not for me to decide."
+
+"But you think it will be months, and perhaps years, before the
+depositors get a penny of their money--do you not?" persisted St.
+George.
+
+Again Pawson performed the sleight-of-hand trick, and again he
+was non-committal--a second shrug alone expressing his views, the
+performance ending by his pushing a wooden chair in the direction of
+Harry, who was still on his feet.
+
+Harry settled himself on its edge and fixed his eyes on his uncle. St.
+George again became absorbed in the several papers, Pawson once more
+assisting him, the visitor having now been duly provided for.
+
+This raking of ashes in the hope of finding something of value
+unscorched was not a pleasant task for the young lawyer. He had, years
+before, conceived the greatest admiration for his landlord and was never
+tired of telling his associates of how kind and considerate St. George
+had always been, and of his patience in the earlier days of his lease,
+Mr. Temple often refusing the rent until he was quite ready to pay
+it. He took a certain pride, too, in living under the same roof, so
+to speak, with one universally known as a gentleman of the old school,
+whose birth, education, and habits made him the standard among his
+fellows--a man without pretence or sham, living a simple and wholesome
+life; with dogs, guns, priceless Madeira and Port, as well as unlimited
+clothes of various patterns adapted to every conceivable service and
+function--to say nothing of his being part of the best society that
+Kennedy Square could afford.
+
+Even to bow to his distinguished landlord as he was descending his front
+steps was in itself one of his greatest pleasures. That he might not
+miss it, he would peer from behind his office shutters until the shapely
+legs of his patron could be seen between the twisted iron railing. Then
+appearing suddenly and with assumed surprise, he would lift his hat with
+so great a flourish that his long, thin arms and body were jerked into
+semaphore angles, his face meanwhile beaming with ill-concealed delight.
+
+Should any one of St. George's personal friends accompany him--men like
+Kennedy, or General Hardisty, or some well-known man from the Eastern
+Shore--one of the Dennises, or Joyneses, or Irvings--the pleasure was
+intensified, the incident being of great professional advantage. "I have
+just met old General Hardisty," he would say--"he was at our house," the
+knowing ones passing a wink around, and the uninitiated having all
+the greater respect and, therefore, all the greater confidence in that
+rising young firm of "Pawson & Pawson, Attorneys and Counsellors at
+Law--Wills drawn and Estates looked after."
+
+That this rarest of gentlemen, of all men in the world, should be made
+the victim of a group of schemers who had really tricked him of
+almost all that was left of his patrimony, and he a member of his own
+profession, was to Pawson one of the great sorrows of his life. That
+he himself had unwittingly helped in its culmination made it all the
+keener. Only a few weeks had passed since that eventful day when St.
+George had sent Todd down to arrange for an interview, an event
+which was followed almost immediately by that gentleman in person. He
+remembered his delight at the honor conferred upon him; he recalled
+how he had spent the whole of that and the next day in the attempt to
+negotiate the mortgage on the old home at a reasonable rate of interest;
+he recalled, too, how he could have lowered the rate had St. George
+allowed him more time. "No, pay it and get rid of them!" St. George had
+said, the "them" being part of the very accounts over which the two were
+poring. And his patron had showed the same impatience when it came
+to placing the money in the bank. Although his own lips were sealed
+professionally by reason of the interests of another client, he had
+begged St. George, almost to the verge of interference, not to give it
+to the Patapsco, until he had been silenced with: "Have them put it to
+my credit, sir. I have known every member of that bank for years."
+
+All these things were, of course, unknown to Harry, the ultimate
+beneficiary. Who had filled the bucket, and how and why, were
+unimportant facts to him. That it was full, and ready for his use,
+brought with it the same sense of pleasure he would have felt on a hot
+day at Moorlands when he had gone to the old well, drawn up the ice-cold
+water, and, plunging in the sweet-smelling gourd, had drank to his
+heart's content.
+
+This was what wells were made for; and so were fathers, and big,
+generous men like his Uncle George, who had dozens of friends ready to
+cram money into his pocket for him to hand over to whoever wanted it and
+without a moment's hesitation--just as Slater had handed him the money
+he needed when Gilbert wanted it in a hurry.
+
+Nor could it be expected that Harry, even with the examination of St.
+George's accounts with the Patapsco and other institutions going on
+under his very eyes, understood fully just what a bank failure really
+meant. Half a dozen banks, he remembered, had gone to smash some few
+years before, sending his father to town one morning at daylight, where
+he stayed for a week, but no change, so far as he could recall, had
+happened because of it at Moorlands. Indeed, his father had bought a new
+coach for his mother the very next week, out of what he had "saved from
+the wreck," so he had told her.
+
+It was not until the hurried overhauling of a mass of papers beneath
+his uncle's hand, and the subsequent finding of a certain stray sheet
+by Pawson, that the boy was aroused to a sense of the gravity of the
+situation. And even then his interest did not become acute until,
+the missing document identified, St. George had turned to Pawson and,
+pointing to an item halfway down the column, had said in a lowered tone,
+as if fearing to be overheard:
+
+"You have the receipts, have you not, for everything on this
+list?--Slater's account too, and Hampson's?"
+
+"They are in the file beside you, sir."
+
+"Well, that's a comfort, anyhow."
+
+"And the balance"--here he examined a small book which lay open beside
+him--"amounting to"--he paused--"is of course locked up in their
+vaults?"
+
+Harry had craned his head in instant attention. His quickened ears had
+caught two familiar names. It was Slater who had loaned him the five
+hundred dollars which he gave to Gilbert, which his father had commended
+him for borrowing; and it was Hampson who had sold him the wretched
+horse that had stumbled and broken his leg and had afterwards to be
+shot.
+
+"Slater, did you say, Uncle George--and Hampson? Aren't they my old
+accounts?"
+
+"Quite right, Mr. Rutter--quite right, sir." St. George tried to stop
+him with a frown, but Pawson's face was turned towards Harry and he
+failed to get the signal. "Quite right, and quite lucky; they were both
+important items in Mr. Gadgem's list, and both checks passed through the
+bank and were paid before the smash came."
+
+The tones of Pawson's voice, the twisting together of his bony hands in
+a sort of satisfied contentment, and the weary look on his uncle's face
+were the opening of so many windows in the boy's brain. At the same
+instant one of those creepy chills common to a man when some hitherto
+undiscovered vista of impending disaster widens out before him, started
+at the base of Harry's spine, crept up his shoulder-blades, shivered
+along his arms, and lost itself in his benumbed fingers. This was
+followed by a lump in his throat that nearly strangled him. He left his
+chair and touched Pawson on the shoulder.
+
+"Does this mean, Mr. Pawson--this money being locked up in the bank
+vaults and not coming out for months--and may be never--does it mean
+that Mr. Temple--well, that Uncle George--won't have enough money to
+live on?" There was an anxious, vibrant tone in Harry's voice that
+aroused St. George to a sense of the boy's share in the calamity and the
+privations he must suffer because of it. Pawson hesitated and was about
+to belittle the gravity of the situation when St. George stopped him.
+
+"Yes--tell him--tell him everything, I have no secrets from Mr. Rutter.
+Stop!--I'll tell him. It means, Harry"--and a brave smile played about
+his lips--"that we will have to live on hog and hominy, may be, or
+pretty nigh it--certainly for a while--not bad, old fellow, when you get
+accustomed to it. Aunt Jemima makes very good hominy and--"
+
+He stopped; the brave smile had faded from his face.
+
+"By Jove!--that's something I didn't think of!--What will I do with the
+dear old woman--It would break her heart--and Todd?"
+
+Here was indeed something on which he had not counted! For him to forego
+the luxuries that enriched his daily life was easy--he had often in his
+hunting trips lived for weeks on sweet potato and a handful of cornmeal,
+and slept on the bare ground with only a blanket over him, but that his
+servants should be reduced to similar privations suggested possibilities
+which appalled him. For the first time since the cruel announcement fell
+from Rutter's lips the real situation, with all that it meant to his own
+future and those dependent upon him, stared him in the face.
+
+He looked up and caught Harry's anxious eyes scanning his own. His
+old-time, unruffled spirit came to his assistance.
+
+"No, son!" he cried in his cheeriest voice, springing to his feet--"no,
+we won't worry. It will all come out right--we'll buckle down to it
+together, you and I. Don't take it too much to heart--we'll get on
+somehow."
+
+But the boy was not reassured; in fact, he had become more anxious than
+ever. Not only did the chill continue, but the lump in his throat grew
+larger every minute.
+
+"But, Uncle George--you told me you borrowed the money to pay those
+bills my father sent me. And will you now have to pay that back as
+well?" He did not ask of whom he had borrowed it, nor on what security,
+nor would either Pawson or his uncle have told him, that being a
+confidential matter.
+
+"Well, that depends, Harry; but we won't have to pay it right away,
+which is one comfort. And then again, I can go back to the law. I have
+yet to make my maiden speech before a jury, but I can do it. Think
+of it!--everybody in tears, the judge mopping his eyes--court-room
+breathless. Oh, you just wait until your old uncle gets on his feet
+before a bench and jury. Come along, old fellow--let us go up into the
+house." Then in a serious tone--his back to Harry--"Pawson, please bring
+the full accounts with you in the morning, and now let me thank you for
+your courtesy. You have been extremely civil, sir, and I appreciate it
+most highly."
+
+When they had reached the front walk and were about to climb the
+immaculate steps, St. George, still determined to divert the boy's
+thoughts from his own financial straits, said with a laugh:
+
+"Todd told you, of course, about your father paying me a visit this
+morning, did he not?"
+
+"Oh, yes!--a most extraordinary account. You must have enjoyed it,"
+replied Harry, trying to fall into his uncle's mood, his heart growing
+heavier every moment. "What did he want?"
+
+One of St. George's heat-lightning smiles played over his face: "He
+wanted two things. He first wanted you, and then he wanted a receipt for
+a month's board--YOUR board, remember! He went away without either."
+
+A new perspective suddenly opened up in Harry's mind; one that had a
+gleam of sunshine athwart it.
+
+"But, Uncle George!" he burst out--"don't forget that my father owes
+you all the money you paid for me! That, of course, will eventually come
+back to you." This came in a tone of great relief, as if the money was
+already in his hand.
+
+St. George's face hardened: "None of it will come back to me," he
+rejoined in a positive tone. "He doesn't owe me one single penny and he
+never will. That money he owes to you. Whatever you may happen to owe me
+can wait until you are able to pay it. And now while I am talking about
+it, there is another thing your father owes you, and that is an humble
+apology, and that he will pay one of these days in tears and agony. You
+are neither a beggar nor a cringing dog, and you never will be so long
+as I can help it!" He stopped, rested his hand on the boy's shoulder,
+and with a quiver in his voice added:
+
+"Your hand, my son. Short commons after this, may be, but we will make
+the fight together."
+
+When the two passed through the front door and stepped into the
+dining-room they found it filled with gentlemen--friends who had heard
+of the crash and who had come either to extend their sympathy or offer
+their bank accounts. They had heard of the catastrophe at the club and
+had instantly left their seats and walked across the park in a body.
+
+To one and all St. George gave a warm pressure of the hand and a bright
+smile. Had he been the master of ceremonies at a state reception he
+could not have been more self-possessed or more gallant; his troubles
+were for himself, never for his guests.
+
+"All in a lifetime--but I am not worrying. The Patapsco pulled out once
+before and it may again. My only regret is that I cannot, at least for
+a time, have as many of you as I would wish under my mahogany. But don't
+let us borrow any trouble; certainly not to-day. Todd, get some glasses
+and bring me that bottle of Madeira--the one there on the sideboard!"
+Here he took the precious fluid from Todd's hand and holding high the
+crusted bottle said with a dry smile--one his friends knew when his
+irony was aroused: "That wine, gentlemen, saw the light at a time when
+a man locked his money in an iron box to keep outside thieves from
+stealing it; to-day he locks his money in a bank's vault and locks the
+thieves in with it. Extraordinary, is it not, how we gentlemen trust
+each other? Here, Todd, draw the cork!... Slowly.... Now hand me the
+bottle--yes--Clayton, that's the same wine that you and Kennedy liked so
+much the night we had Mr. Poe with us. It is really about all there is
+left of my father's Black Warrior of 1810. I thought it was all gone,
+but Todd found two more the other day, one of which I sent to Kennedy.
+This is the other. Kennedy writes me he is keeping his until we can
+drink it together. Is everybody's glass full? Then my old toast if you
+will permit me: 'Here's to love and laughter, and every true friend of
+my true friend my own!'"
+
+
+Before the groups had dispersed Harry had the facts in his
+possession--principally from Judge Pancoast, who gave him a full account
+of the bank's collapse, some papers having been handed up to him on the
+bench that morning. Summed up, his uncle was practically ruined--and he,
+Harry, was the cause of it--the innocent cause, perhaps, but the cause
+all the same: but for his father's cruelty and his own debts St. George
+would never have mortgaged his home. That an additional sum--his uncle's
+entire deposit--had been swallowed up in the crash was but part of the
+same misfortune. Poe's lines were true, then--never so true as now:
+
+"Some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed
+faster..."
+
+This, then, was ever after to be his place in life--to bring misery
+wherever he went.
+
+He caught up his hat and walked through the park beside the judge,
+hoping for some further details of his uncle's present plight and future
+condition, but the only thing his Honor added to what he already knew
+was his wonderment over the fact that St. George, having no immediate
+use for the money except to pay his bills, should have raised so large a
+sum on a mortgage instead of borrowing it from his friends. It was here
+that Harry's heart gave a bound:--no one, then, but his uncle, Pawson,
+and himself knew that he alone was responsible for the catastrophe!
+That his father should have learned of his share in it did not enter the
+boy's head.
+
+Todd answered his knock on his return, and in reply to his inquiry
+informed him that he must not sit up, as "Marse George" had left word
+that he would be detained until late at a meeting of the creditors of
+the bank.
+
+And so the unhappy lad, his supper over, sought his bed and, as had
+occurred more than once before, spent the earlier hours of the night
+gazing at the ceiling and wondering what would become of him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+
+With the breaking of the dawn Harry's mind was made up. Before the sun
+was an hour high he had dressed hurriedly, stolen downstairs so as to
+wake no one, and closing the front door softly behind him had taken the
+long path through the park in the direction of the wharves. Once there,
+he made the rounds of the shipping offices from Light Street wharf to
+the Falls--and by the time St. George had finished dressing--certainly
+before he was through his coffee--had entered the name of Henry Rutter
+on two sets of books--one for a position as supercargo and the other,
+should nothing better be open, as common seaman. All he insisted upon
+was that the ship should sail at once. As to the destination, that was
+of no consequence, nor did the length of the voyage make any difference.
+He remembered that his intimate friend, Gilbert, had some months before
+gone as supercargo to China, his father wanting him to see something of
+the world; and if a similar position were open he could, of course, give
+references as to his character--a question the agent asked him--but,
+then, Gilbert had a father to help him. Should no such position be
+available, he would ship before the mast, or serve as cook or cabin-boy,
+or even scullion--but he would not live another day or hour dependent on
+his dear Uncle George, who had impoverished himself in his behalf.
+
+He selected the sea instead of going into the army as a common soldier
+because the sea had always appealed to him. He loved its freedom and
+its dangers. Then again, he was young and strong--could climb like a
+cat--sail a boat--swim--Yes!--the sea was the place! He could get far
+enough away behind its horizons to hide the struggle he must make to
+accomplish the one purpose of his life--the earning of his debt.
+
+Filled with this idea he began to perfect his plans, determining to take
+no one into his confidence until the day before the ship was ready to
+sail. He would then send for his mother and Alec--bring them all down
+to St. George's house and announce his intention. That was the best and
+wisest way. As for Kate--who had now been at home some weeks--he
+would pour out his heart to her in a letter. This was better than an
+interview, which she would doubtless refuse:--a letter she would be
+obliged to read and, perhaps, answer. As for his dear Uncle George--it
+would be like tearing his heart out to leave him, but this wrench had to
+be met and it was best to do it quickly and have done with it.
+
+When this last thought took possession a sudden faintness crept over
+him. How could he leave his uncle? What St. George was to him no one
+but himself knew--father, friend, comrade, adviser--standard of men and
+morals--all and more was his beloved uncle. No thought of his heart but
+he had given him, and never once had he been misunderstood. He could put
+his arm about his uncle's neck as he would about his mother's and not
+be thought effeminate or childish. And the courtesy and dignity and
+fairness with which he had been treated; and the respect St. George
+showed him--and he only a boy: compelling his older men friends to do
+the same. Never letting him feel that any foolish act of his young life
+had been criticised, or that any one had ever thought the less of him
+because of them.
+
+Breakfast over, during which no allusion was made either to what St.
+George had accomplished at the conference of creditors the night before,
+or to Harry's early rising--the boy made his way into the park and took
+the path he loved. It was autumn, and the mild morning air bespoke an
+Indian summer day. Passing beneath the lusty magnolias, which flaunted
+here and there their glossy leaves, he paused under one of the big oaks,
+whose branches, stripped of most of their foliage, still sheltered a
+small, vine-covered arbor where he and Kate had often sat--indeed, it
+was within its cool shade that he had first told her of his love. Here
+he settled himself on a small wooden bench outside the retreat and gave
+his thoughts full rein--not to repine, nor to revive his troubles, which
+he meant to put behind him--but to plan out the letter he was to write
+Kate. This must be clear and convincing and tell the whole story of his
+heart. That he might empty it the better he had chosen this place made
+sacred by her presence. Then again, the park was generally deserted at
+this hour--the hour between the passing of the men of business and
+the coming of the children and nurses--and he would not be
+interrupted--certainly not before this arbor--one off by itself and away
+from passers-by.
+
+He seated himself on the bench, his eyes overlooking the park. All the
+hours he had passed with Kate beneath the wide-spreading trees rose in
+his mind; the day they had read aloud to each other, her pretty feet
+tucked under her so that the dreadful ants couldn't touch her dainty
+stockings; the morning when she was late and he had waited and fumed
+stretching minutes into hours in his impatience; that summer night
+when the two had hidden behind the big oak so that he could kiss her
+good-night and none of the others see.
+
+With these memories stirring, his letter was forgotten, and his head
+dropped upon his breast, as if the weight of all he had lost was greater
+than he could bear. Grasping his walking-stick the tighter he began
+tracing figures in the gravel, his thoughts following each line.
+Suddenly his ears caught the sound of a quick step--one he thought
+strangely familiar.
+
+He raised his eyes.
+
+Kate had passed him and had given no sign of her presence!
+
+He sprang from his seat:
+
+"Kate!--KATE!--Are you going to treat me as my father treated me! Don't,
+please!--You'll never see me again--but don't cut me like that: I have
+never done anything but love you!"
+
+The girl came to a halt, but she did not turn her head, nor did she
+answer.
+
+"Please, Kate--won't you speak to me? It may be the last time I shall
+ever see you. I am going away from Kennedy Square. I was going to write
+you a letter; I came out here to think of what I ought to say--"
+
+She raised her head and half turned her trembling body so that she could
+see his face, her eyes reading his.
+
+"I didn't think you wanted me to speak to you or you would have looked
+up."
+
+"I didn't see you until you had passed. Can't we sit down here?--no one
+will see us."
+
+She suffered him to take her hand and lead her to the bench. There
+she sat, her eyes still searching his face--a wondering, eager look,
+discovering every moment some old remembered spot--an eyebrow, or the
+line at the corner of the mouth, or the round of the cheek--each and
+every one bringing back to her the days that were past and gone never to
+return.
+
+"You are going away?" she said at last--"why? Aren't you happy with
+Uncle George? He would miss you, I am sure." She had let the scarf fall
+from her shoulders as she spoke, bringing into view the full round of
+her exquisite throat. He had caught its flash, but he could not trust
+himself to look the closer.
+
+"Not any more than I shall miss him," he rejoined sadly; "but he has
+lost almost everything he had in the bank failure and I cannot have him
+support me any longer--so I am going to sea."
+
+Kate started forward and laid her hand on his wrist: "To sea!--in a
+ship! Where?" The inquiry came with such suddenness and with so keen a
+note of pain in her voice that Harry's heart gave a bound. It was not
+St. George's losses then she was thinking of--she was thinking of him!
+He raised his eyes quickly and studied her face the closer; then his
+heart sank again. No!--he was wrong--there was only wonder in her gaze;
+only her usual curiosity to know every detail of what was going on
+around her.
+
+With a sigh he resumed his bent position, talking to the end of his
+walking-stick tracing figures in the gravel: "I shall go to Rio,
+probably," he continued in the same despondent tone--"or China. That's
+why I called after you. I sail day after to-morrow--Saturday at the
+latest--and it may be a good many years before I get back again, and so
+I didn't want to go, Kate, without telling you that--that--I forgive you
+for everything you have done to me--and whether you forgive me or not,
+I have kept my promises to you, and I will always keep them as long as I
+live."
+
+"What does dear Uncle George think of it?" She too was addressing the
+end of the stick; gaining time to make up her mind what to do and say.
+The old wound, of course, could not be opened, but she might save him
+and herself from fresh ones.
+
+"He doesn't know I am going; nobody knows but you. I have been a curse
+to every one who has been kind to me, and I am going now where there
+will be nobody but strangers about me. To leave Uncle George breaks my
+heart, but so does it break my heart to leave my precious mother and
+dear old Alec, who cries all the time and has now taken to his bed, I
+hear."
+
+She waited, but her name was not added to the list, nor did he raise his
+head.
+
+"I deserve it all, I suspect," he went on, "or it wouldn't be sent
+to me; but it's over now. If I ever come back it will be when I am
+satisfied with myself; if I never come back, why then my former hard
+luck has followed me--that's all. And now may I talk to you, Kate, as
+I used to do sometimes?" He straightened up, threw down his cane, and
+turned his shoulders so he could look her squarely in the eyes. "If I
+say anything that offends you you can get up and walk away and I won't
+follow you, nor will I add another word. You may never see me again, and
+if it is not what I ought to say, you can forget it all when I am gone.
+Kate!"--he paused, and for a moment it was all he could do to control
+himself. "What I want to tell you first is this--that I haven't had a
+happy day or hour since that night on the stairs in my father's house.
+Whether I was right or wrong I don't know; what followed is what I
+couldn't help, but that part I don't regret, and if any one should
+behave to you as Willits did I would do it over again. What I do regret
+is the pain it has caused you. And now here comes this awful sorrow to
+Uncle George, and I am the cause of that too."
+
+She turned her face quickly, the color leaving her cheeks as if alarmed.
+Had he been behaving badly again? But he swept it away with his next
+sentence.
+
+"You see, my father refused to pay any of the bills I owed and
+Uncle George paid them for me--and I can't have that go on a day
+longer--certainly not now."
+
+Kate's shoulders relaxed. A sigh of relief spent itself; Harry was still
+an honest gentleman, whatever else he might have done!
+
+"And now comes the worst of it, Kate." His voice sank almost to
+a whisper, as if even the birds should not hear this part of his
+confession: "Yes--the worst of it--that I have had all this to
+suffer--all this misery to endure--all these insults of my father to
+bear without you! Always, before, we have talked things out together;
+then you were shut away and I could only look up at your windows and
+rack my brain wondering where you were and what you were doing. It's all
+over now--you love somebody else--but I shall never love anybody else: I
+can't! I don't want to! You are the last thing I kiss before I close my
+eyes; I shut them and kiss only the air--but it is your lips I feel; and
+you are the first thing I open them upon when I wake. It will always be
+so, Kate--you are my body, my soul, and my life. I shall never have you
+again, I know, but I shall have your memory, and that is sweeter and
+more precious to me than all else in the world!"
+
+"Harry!" There was a strange cadence in her voice--not of
+self-defence--not of recrimination--only of overwhelming pity: "Don't
+you think that I too have had my troubles? Do you think it was nothing
+to me to love you as I did and have--" She stopped, drew in her breath
+as if to bolster up some inward resolution, and then with a brave lift
+of the head added: "No, I won't go into that--not to-day."
+
+"Yes--tell me all of it--you can't hurt me more than you have done. But
+you may be right--no, we won't talk of that part of it. And now, Kate,
+I won't ask you to stay any longer; I am glad I saw you--it was better
+than writing." He leaned forward: "Let me look into your face once
+more, won't you?--so I can remember the better.... Yes--the same dear
+eyes--and the hair growing low on the temples, and the beautiful mouth
+and--No--I sha'n't forget--I never have." He rose from his seat and held
+out his hand: "You'll take it, won't you?--just once--Good-by!"
+
+She had not moved, nor had she grasped his hand; her face was still
+towards him, her whole frame tense, the tears crowding to the lids.
+
+"Sit down, Harry. I can't let you go like this. Tell me something
+more of where you are going. Why must you go to sea? Can't you support
+yourself here?--isn't there something you can get to do? I will see my
+father and find out if--"
+
+"No, you won't." There was a note almost of defiance in his voice--one
+she had never heard before. "I am through with accepting favors from any
+living man. Hereafter I stand in my own shoes, independent of everybody.
+My father is the only person who has a right to give me help, and as he
+refuses absolutely to do anything more than pay my board, I must fall
+back on myself. I didn't see these things in this same way when Uncle
+George paid my debts, or even when he took me into his home as his
+guest, but I do now."
+
+Something gave a little bound in Kate's heart. This manly independence
+was one of the things she had in the old days hoped was in him. What had
+come over her former lover, she wondered.
+
+"And another thing, Kate"--she was listening eagerly--she could not
+believe it was Harry who was speaking--"if you were to tell me this
+moment that you loved me again and would marry me, and I still be as I
+am to-day--outlawed by my father and dependent on charity--I would
+not do it. I can't live on your money, and I have none of my own.
+Furthermore, I owe dear Uncle George his money in such a way that I can
+never pay it back except I earn it, and that I can't do here. To borrow
+it of somebody else to pay him would be more disgraceful still."
+
+Again her heart gave a bound. Her father had followed the opposite
+course, and she knew for a certainty just what some men thought of him,
+and she could as easily recall half a dozen younger men who had that
+very summer been willing to play the same game with herself. Something
+warm and sympathetic struggled up through her reserve.
+
+"Would you stay, Harry, if I asked you to?" she said in almost a
+whisper. She had not meant to put the question quite in that way, but
+somehow it had asked itself.
+
+He looked at her with his soft brown eyes, the long lashes shading their
+tender brilliancy. He had guessed nothing of the newly awakened throb
+in her heart; only his situation stared him in the face, and in this she
+had no controlling interest; nor could she now that she loved somebody
+else.
+
+"No, Kate, it wouldn't alter anything. It would be putting off the day
+when it would all have to be done over again; and then it would be still
+worse because of the hopes it had raised."
+
+"Do you really mean, Harry, that you would not stay if I asked you?" It
+was not her heart which was speaking, but the pride of the woman who had
+always had her own way.
+
+"I certainly do," he answered emphatically, his voice ringing clear.
+"Every day I lose is just so much taken from a decent, independent
+life."
+
+A sudden revulsion of feeling swept through her. This was the last thing
+she had expected from Harry. What had come over him that he should deny
+her anything?--he who had always obeyed her slightest wish. Then a new
+thought entered her head--why should she humble herself to ask any more
+questions? With a quick movement she gained her feet and stood toying
+with her dress, arranging the lace scarf about her throat, tightening
+the wide strings that held her teacup of a bonnet close to her face. She
+raised her eyes and stole a glance at him. The lips were still firmly
+set with the resolve that had tightened them, but his eyes were brimming
+tears.
+
+As suddenly as her pride had risen did it die out. All the tenderness of
+her nature welled up. She made one step in his direction. She was about
+to speak, but he had not moved, nor did his face relax. She saw that
+nothing could shake his resolve; they were as far apart as if the seas
+already rolled between them. She held out her hand, and with that same
+note of infinite pathos which he knew so well when she spoke straight
+from her heart, said as she laid her fingers in his:
+
+"Good-by, and God bless you, Harry."
+
+"Good-by, Kate," he murmured in barely audible tones. "May I--may
+I--kiss you on the forehead, as I always used to do when I left you--"
+
+She bent her head: he leaned over and touched the spot with his lips as
+reverently as a sinner kisses the garment of a saint, then, choking down
+her tears, all her body unstrung, her mind in a whirl, she turned and
+passed out of the park.
+
+
+That same afternoon Kate called her father into her little sitting-room
+at the top of the stairs and shut the door.
+
+"Harry Rutter is going to sea as a common sailor on one of the ships
+leaving here in a couple of days. Can you find out which one?--it may be
+one of your own." He was still perfunctory agent of the line.
+
+"Young Rutter going to sea!"--the nomenclature of "my dear Harry" had
+ended since the colonel had disinherited him. "Well--that is news! I
+suspect that will be the best place for him; then if he plays any of his
+pranks there will be somebody around with a cat-o'-nine-tails to take it
+out of him. Going to sea, is he?"
+
+Kate looked at him with lowered lids, her lips curling slightly, but
+she did not defend the culprit. It was only one of what Prim called his
+"jokes:" he was the last man in the world to wish any such punishment.
+Moreover, she knew her father much better than the Honorable Prim knew
+his daughter, and whenever she had a favor to ask was invariably careful
+not to let his little tea-kettle boil over.
+
+"Only a short time ago, father, you got a berth as supercargo on one of
+my grandfather's ships for Mark Gilbert. Can't you do it for Harry?"
+
+"But, Kate, that was quite a different thing. Mark's father came to me
+and asked it as a special favor." His assumed authority at the shipping
+office rarely extended to the appointing of officers--not when the
+younger partners objected.
+
+"Well, Harry's father won't come to you, nor will Harry; and it isn't
+a different thing. It's exactly the same thing so far as you are
+concerned, and there is a greater reason for Harry, for he is alone in
+the world and he is not used to hard work of any kind, and it is cruel
+to make a common sailor of him."
+
+"Why, I thought Temple was fathering him."
+
+"So Uncle George has, and would always look after him, but Harry is too
+brave and manly to live upon him any longer, now that Uncle George has
+lost most of his money. Will you see Mr. Pendergast, or shall I go down
+to the office?"
+
+Prim mused for a moment. "There may not be a vacancy," he ventured, "but
+I will inquire. The Ranger sails on Friday for the River Plate, and
+I will have Mr. Pendergast come and see me. Supercargoes are of very
+little use, my dear, unless they have had some business training, and
+this young man, of course, has had none at all."
+
+"This young man, indeed!" thought Kate with a sigh, stifling her
+indignation. "Poor Harry!--no one need treat him any longer with even
+common courtesy, now that St. George, his last hold, had been swept
+away."
+
+"I think on the whole I had better attend to it myself," she added with
+some impatience. "I don't want anything to go wrong about it."
+
+"No, I'll see him, Kate; just leave it all to me."
+
+He had already decided what to do--or what he would try to do--when he
+first heard the boy wanted to leave the country. What troubled him was
+what the managing partner of the line might think of the proposition.
+As long as Harry remained at home and within reach any number of
+things might happen--even a return of the old love. With the scapegrace
+half-way around the world some other man might have a chance--Willits,
+especially, who had proved himself in every way worthy of his daughter,
+and who would soon be one of the leading lawyers of the State if he kept
+on.
+
+With the closing of the door upon her father, Kate threw herself upon
+her lounge. One by one the salient features of her interview with Harry
+passed in review: his pleading for some word of comfort; some note of
+forgiveness with which to cheer the hours of his exile.--"You are the
+last thing I kiss before I close my eyes." Then his open defiance of her
+expressed wishes when they conflicted with his own set purpose of going
+away and staying away until he made up his mind to return. While the
+first brought with it a certain contented satisfaction--something she
+had expected and was glad of--the last aroused only indignation and
+revolt. Her brow tightened, and the determination of the old seadog--her
+grandfather Barkeley--played over her countenance. She no longer, then,
+filled Harry's life, controlling all his actions; she no longer inspired
+his hopes. Rather than marry her he would work as a common sailor.
+Yes--he had said so, and with his head up and his voice ringing brave
+and clear. She was proud of him for it--she had never been so proud of
+him--but why no trace of herself in his resolve; except in his allusion
+to the duel, when he said he would do it again should any one insult
+her? It was courteous, of course, for him to feel that way, however much
+she abhorred the system of settling such disputes. But, then, he would
+do that for any other woman--would, no doubt, for some woman he had not
+yet seen. In this he was the son of his father and the same Harry--but
+in everything else he was a changed man--and never more changed than in
+his attitude toward her.
+
+With these thoughts racking her brain she rose from the lounge and began
+pacing the floor, peering out between the curtains of her room, her
+eyes wandering over the park as if she could still see him between
+the branches. Then her mind cleared and the true situation developed
+itself:--for months she had hugged to herself the comforting thought
+that she had only to stretch out her hand and bring him to her feet. He
+had now looked her full in the face and proclaimed his freedom. It was
+as if she had caged a bird and found the door open and the prisoner
+singing in a tree overhead.
+
+
+That same night she sat by her wood fire in her chamber, her old black
+mammy--Mammy Henny--bending close, combing out her marvellous hair. She
+had been studying the coals, watching the little castles pile and fall;
+the quick smothering of slowly fading sparks under a blanket of gray
+ashes, and the wavering, flickering light that died on the curling
+smoke. She had not spoken for a long time, when the old woman roused
+her.
+
+"Whar was you dis mawnin', honey chile? Mister Willits done wait mo'n
+ha'f a hour, den he say he come back an' fetch his sorrel horse wid him
+dis arternoon an' take ye ridin'. But he ain't come--dat is, Ben done
+tol' me so."
+
+"No, mammy," she answered wearily--"I sent him word not to--I didn't
+feel like riding to-day."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+
+Over two years have passed away since that mournful night when Harry
+with his hand in St. George's, his voice choking, had declared his
+determination to leave him the next day and seek his fortunes across the
+seas.
+
+It was a cruel blow to Temple, coming as it did on the heels of his own
+disaster, but when the first shock had passed he could but admire the
+lad for his pluck and love him the better for his independence.
+
+"All right, my son," he had said, concealing as best he could his
+intense suffering over the loss of his companion. "I'll try and get
+along. But remember I am here--and the door is always open. I don't
+blame you--I would do the same thing were I in your place. And now about
+Kate--what shall I say to her?"
+
+"Nothing. I said it all this morning. She doesn't love me any more--she
+would have passed me by without speaking had I not called to her. She'll
+be married to Willits before I come back--if I ever do come back. But
+leaving Kate is easier than leaving you. You have stuck to me all the
+way through, and Kate--well--perhaps she hasn't understood--perhaps her
+father has been talking to her--I don't know. Anyhow, it's all over. If
+I had had any doubts about it before, this morning's talk settled it.
+The sea is the best place for me. I can support myself anyway for a
+while until I can help you."
+
+Yes! the boy was right, St. George had said to himself. It was all over
+between them. Kate's reason had triumphed at last. She, perhaps, was not
+to blame. Her experiences had been trying and she was still confronted
+by influences bitterly opposed to Harry, and largely in favor of
+Willits, for, weak specimen as Prim was, he was still her father, and in
+so important a step as her marriage, must naturally exercise authority.
+As for his own influence, that, he realized, had come to an end at
+their last interview: the whole thing, he must admit, was
+disappointing--cruelly so--the keenest disappointment of his life.
+
+Many a night since he bid Harry good-by had he sat alone by that same
+fire, his dogs his only companions, the boy's words ringing in his ears:
+"Leaving Kate is easier than leaving you!" Had it been the other way and
+he the exile, it would have been nearer the truth, he often thought, for
+nothing in his whole life had left so great a void in his heart as the
+loss of the boy he loved. Not that he was ever completely disheartened;
+that was not his nature; there was always daylight ahead--the day when
+Harry would come back and their old life begin again. With this in store
+for him he had led his life as best he could, visiting his friends
+in the country, entertaining in a simple, inexpensive way, hunting at
+Wesley, where he and Peggy Coston would exchange confidences and funny
+stories; dining out; fishing in the early spring; getting poorer and
+poorer in pocket, and yet never complaining, his philosophy being that
+it would be brighter in the morning, and it always was--to him.
+
+And yet if the truth be told his own situation had not improved--in
+fact, it had grown steadily worse. Only one payment of interest had been
+made on the mortgage and the owner was already threatening foreclosure
+proceedings. Pawson's intervention alone had staved off the fatal climax
+by promising the holder to keep the loan alive by the collection of some
+old debts--borrowed money and the like--due St. George for years and
+which his good nature had allowed to run on indefinitely until some of
+them were practically outlawed. Indeed it was only through resources
+like this, in all of which Pawson helped, and with the collecting of
+some small ground rents, that kept Todd and Jemima in their places and
+the larder comfortably filled. As to the bank--there was still hope that
+some small percentage would be paid the depositors, it being the
+general opinion that the directors were personally liable because of
+the irregularities which the smash had uncovered--but this would take
+months, if not years, to work out.
+
+His greatest comfort was in the wanderer's letters. These he would watch
+for with the eagerness of a girl hungry for news of her distant lover.
+For the first few months these came by every possible mail, most of them
+directed to himself; others to his mother, Mrs. Rutter driving in from
+Moorlands to compare notes with St. George. Then, as the boy made his
+way further into the interior the intervals were greater--sometimes a
+month passed without news of him.
+
+"We are short-handed," he wrote St. George, "owing to fever on the
+voyage out on the Ranger, and though I am supercargo and sit at the
+captain's table, I have to turn to and work like any of the others--fine
+exercise, but my hands are cracked and blistered and full of tar. I'll
+have to wear gloves the next time I dine with you."
+
+Not a word of this to his mother--no such hardships for her tender ears:
+
+"Tell me about Kate, mother"--this from Rio--"how she looks; what she
+says; does she ever mention my name? My love to Alec. Is Matthew still
+caring for Spitfire, or has my father sold her?" Then followed the line:
+"Give my father my respectful regards; I would send my love, but he no
+longer cares for it."
+
+The dear lady did not deliver the message. Indeed Harry's departure
+had so widened the breach between the colonel and herself that they
+practically occupied different parts of the house as far removed from
+each other as possible. She had denounced him first to his face for the
+boy's self-imposed exile, and again behind his back to her intimates.
+Nor did her resolve waver even when the colonel was thrown from his
+horse and so badly hurt that his eyesight was greatly impaired. "It is
+a judgment on you," she had said, drawing her frail body up to its full
+height. "You will now learn what other people suffer," and would have
+kept on upstairs to her own room had not her heart softened at his
+helplessness--a new role for the colonel.
+
+He had made no answer at the time: he never answered her back. She was
+too frail to be angry with, and then she was right about his being the
+cause of her suffering--the first cause of it, at least. He had not
+yet arrived at the point where he censured himself for all that had
+happened. In fact since Harry's sudden exit, made without a word to
+anybody at Moorlands except his mother and Alec, who went to town on
+a hurry message,--a slight which cut him to the quick--he had steadily
+laid the blame on everybody else connected with the affair;--generally
+on St. George for his interference in his peace-making programme at the
+club and his refusal, when ruined financially, to send the boy back to
+him in an humble and contrite spirit. Neither had he recovered from the
+wrath he had felt when, having sent John Gorsuch to ascertain from
+St. George the amount of money he had paid out for his son, Temple had
+politely sent Gorsuch, in charge of Todd, downstairs to Pawson, who
+in turn, after listening to Todd's whispered message, had with equal
+politeness shown Gorsuch the door, the colonel's signed check--the
+amount unfilled--still in Gorsuch's pocket.
+
+It was only when the Lord of Moorlands went into town to spend an
+hour or so with Kate--and he was a frequent visitor prior to his
+accident--that his old manner returned. He loved the girl dearly and was
+never tired of talking to her. She was the only woman who would listen
+when he poured out his heart.
+
+And Kate always welcomed him gladly. She liked strong, decided men
+even if they sometimes erred in their conclusions. Her grandfather,
+old Captain Barkeley, had had the same masterfulness. He had been in
+absolute command in his earlier years, and he had kept in command all
+his life. His word was law, and he was generally right. She was twelve
+years old when he died, and had, therefore, ample opportunity to know.
+It was her grandfather's strong personality, in fact, which had given
+her so clear an idea of her father's many weaknesses. Rutter, she felt,
+was a combination of both Barkeley and Prim--forceful and yet warped
+by prejudices; dominating yet intolerant; able to do big things and
+contented with little ones. It was forcefulness, despite his many
+shortcomings, which most appealed to her.
+
+Moreover, she saw much of Harry in him. It was that which made her so
+willing to listen--she continually comparing the father to the son.
+These comparisons were invariably made in a circle, beginning at
+Rutter's brown eyes, taking in his features and peculiarities--many of
+them reproduced in his son's--such as the firm set of the lips and the
+square line of the chin--and ending, quite naturally, with the brown
+orbs again. While Harry's matched the color and shape, and often the
+fierce glare of the father's, they could also, she said to herself,
+shine with the soft light of the mother's. It was from the mother's
+side, then, that there came the willingness to yield to whatever tempted
+him--it may be to drink--to a false sense of honor--to herself: Harry
+being her slave instead of her master. And the other men around her--so
+far as yielding was concerned (here her brow would tighten and her lips
+straighten)--were no better. Even Uncle George must take her own "No"
+for an answer and believe it when she meant quite a different thing. And
+once more would her soul break out in revolt over the web in which she
+had become entangled, and once more would she cry herself to sleep.
+
+Nobody but her old black mammy knew how tragic had been her sufferings,
+how many bitter hours she had passed, nor how many bitter tears she had
+shed. Yet even old Henny could not comfort her, nor was there any one
+else to whom the girl could pour out her heart. She had, it is true,
+kept up her intimacy with her Uncle George--hardly a week passed that
+she was not a visitor at his house or he at hers--but they had long
+since refrained from discussing Harry. Not because he did not want to
+talk about him, but because she would not let him--Of course not!
+
+To Richard Horn, however, strange to say, she often turned--not so much
+for confidences as for a broader understanding of life. The thoughtful
+inventor was not so hedged about by social restrictions, and would break
+out in spontaneous admiration of Harry, saying with a decisive nod of
+his head, "A fine, splendid young fellow, my dear Kate; I recognized
+it first at St. George's dinner to Mr. Poe, and if I may say so, a
+much-abused young man whose only sin is that he, like many another about
+us, has been born under a waning star in a sky full of murky clouds; one
+that the fresh breeze of a new civilization will some day clear away"--a
+deduction which Kate could not quite grasp, but which comforted her
+greatly.
+
+It delighted her, too, to hear him talk of the notable occurrences
+taking place about them. "You are wonderfully intelligent, my dear,"
+he had said to her on one occasion, "and should miss nothing of the
+developments that are going on about us;" and in proof of it had the
+very next day taken her to an exhibition of Mr. Morse's new telegraph,
+given at the Institute, at which two operators, each with an instrument,
+the men in sight of each other, but too far apart to be in collusion,
+were sending and answering the messages through wires stretched around
+the hall. She, at Richard's suggestion, had written a message herself,
+which she handed to the nearest operator who had ticked it to his
+fellow, and who at once read it to the audience. Even then many doubting
+Thomases had cried out "Collusion," until Richard, rising in his seat,
+had not only endorsed the truth of the reading, but explained the
+invention, his statement silencing all opposition because of his
+well-known standing and knowledge of kindred sciences.
+
+Richard's readings also, from which Kate was never absent, and which had
+now been resumed at his own house, greatly interested her. These of late
+had been devoted to many of Poe's earlier poems and later tales, for
+despite the scene at St. George's the inventor had never ceased to
+believe in the poet.
+
+And so with these occupations, studies, investigations, and social
+pleasures--she never missing a ball or party (Willits always managing to
+be with her)--and the spending of the summer months at the Red Sulphur,
+where she had been pursued by half a dozen admirers--one a titled
+Englishman--had the days and hours of the years of Harry's absence
+passed slowly away.
+
+At the end of the second winter a slight change occurred in the monotony
+of her life. Her constant, unwavering devotee, Langdon Willits, fell
+ill and had to be taken to the Eastern Shore, where the same old lot of
+bandages--that is of the same pattern--and the same loyal sister were
+impressed into service to nurse him back to health. The furrow Harry's
+bullet had ploughed in his head still troubled him at times, especially
+in the hot weather, and a horseback ride beside Kate one August day,
+with the heat in the nineties, had started the subsoil of his cranium
+to aching with such vehemence that Teackle had promptly packed it in ice
+and ten days later its owner in blankets and had put them both aboard
+the bay boat bound for the Eastern Shore.
+
+Whether this new irritant--and everything seemed to annoy her now--had
+begun to tell on our beautiful Kate, or whether the gayety of the winter
+both at home and in Washington, where she had spent some weeks during
+the season, had tired her out, certain it was that when the spring came
+the life had gone out of her step and the color from her cheeks. Mammy
+Henny had noticed it and had coddled her the more, crooning and petting
+her; and her father had noticed it and had begun to be anxious, and at
+last St. George had stalked in and cried out in that breezy, joyous way
+of his that nothing daunted:
+
+"Here, you sweetheart!--what have you been doing to your cheeks--all the
+roses out of them and pale as two lilies--and you never out of bed until
+twelve o'clock in the day and looking then as if you hadn't had a wink
+of sleep all night. Not a word out of you, Seymour, until I've finished.
+I'm going to take Kate down to Tom Coston's and keep her there till she
+gets well. Too many stuffy balls--too many late suppers--oyster roasts
+and high doings. None of that at Tom's. Up at six and to bed at ten.
+I've just had a letter from him and dear Peggy is crazy to have us come.
+Take your mare along, Kate, and you won't lack fresh air. Now what do
+you say, Seymour?"
+
+Of course the Honorable Prim bobbed his honorable head and said he had
+been worried himself over Kate's loss of appetite, and that if Temple
+would, etc., etc.--he would--etc., etc.--and so Mammy Henny began to get
+pink and white and other fluffy things together, and Ben, with Todd to
+help, led Joan, her own beloved saddle horse, down to the dock and saw
+that she was safely lodged between decks, and then up came a coach (all
+this was two days later) and my lady drove off with two hair trunks in
+front and a French bonnet box behind--St. George beside her, and fat
+Mammy Henny in white kerchief and red bandanna, opposite, and Todd in
+one of St. George's old shooting-jackets on the box next the driver,
+with his feet on two of the dogs, the others having been loaned to a
+friend.
+
+And it was a great leave-taking when the party reached the wharf. Not
+only were three or four of her girl friends present, but a dozen or more
+of the old merchants forsook their desks, when the coach unlimbered,
+most of them crossing the cobbles--some bare-headed, and all of them in
+high stocks and swallow-tail coats--pens behind their ears, spectacles
+on their pates--to bid the young princess good-by.
+
+For Kate was still "our Kate," in the widest and broadest sense and the
+pride and joy of all who knew her, and many who didn't. That she had a
+dozen beaux--and that some of them had tried to bore holes in each other
+for love of her; and that one of them was now a wanderer and another in
+a state of collapse, if report were true--was quite as it should be. Men
+had died for women a hundred times less worthy and a thousand times less
+beautiful, and men would die of love again. When at last she made up her
+mind she would choose the right man, and in the meantime God bless her
+for just being alive.
+
+And she was never more alive or more charming than to-day.
+
+"Oh, how delightful of you, Mr. Murdoch, and you too, Mr. Bowdoin--and
+Max--and all of you, to cross those wretched stones. No, wait, I'll come
+to you--" she had called out, when with a stamp of her little feet she
+had shaken the pleats from her skirt--adding when they had all kissed
+her hand in turn--"Yes--I am going down to be dairy-maid at Peggy
+Coston's," at which the bald-headed old fellows, with their hands
+upraised in protest at so great a sacrilege, bowed to the ground, their
+fingers on their ruffled shirt-fronts, and the younger ones lifted their
+furry hats and kept them in the air until she had crossed the gang-plank
+and Todd and Mammy Henny, and Ben who had come to help, lost their
+several breaths getting the impatient dogs and baggage aboard--and so
+she sailed away with Uncle George as chaperon, the whole party throwing
+kisses back and forth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+
+Their reception at Wesley, the ancestral home of the Costons, although
+it was late at night when they arrived, was none the less joyous. Peggy
+was the first to welcome the invalid, and Tom was not far behind.
+
+"Give her to me, St. George," bubbled Peggy, enfolding the girl in her
+arms. "You blessed thing! Oh, how glad I am to get hold of you! They
+told me you were ill, child--not a word of truth in it! No, Mr. Coston,
+you sha'n't even have one of her little fingers until I get through
+loving her. What's your mammy's name--Henny? Well, Henny, you take Miss
+Kate's things into her room--that one at the top of the stairs."
+
+And then the Honorable Tom Coston said he'd be doggoned if he was going
+to wait another minute, and he didn't--for Kate kissed him on both
+cheeks and gave him her father's message, congratulating him on his
+appointment as judge, and thanking him in advance for all the kindness
+he would show his daughter.
+
+But it was not until she awoke next morning and looked out between
+the posts of her high bedstead through the small, wide-open window
+overlooking the bay that her heart gave the first bound of real
+gladness. She loved the sky and the dash of salt air, laden now with the
+perfume of budding fruit trees, that blew straight in from the sea.
+She loved, too, the stir and sough of the creaking pines and the cheery
+calls from the barnyard. Here she could get her mind settled; here,
+too, she could forget all the little things that had bothered her--there
+would be no more invitations to accept or decline; no promises she must
+keep. She and her Uncle George could have one long holiday--she needed
+it and, goodness knows, he needed it after all his troubles--and they
+would begin as soon as breakfast was over. And they did--the dogs
+plunging ahead, the two hand in hand, St. George, guide and philosopher,
+pointing out this and that characteristic feature of the once famous
+estate and dilating on its past glory.
+
+"Even in my father's day," he continued, his face lighting up, "it was
+one of the great show places of the county. The stables held twenty
+horses and a coach, besides no end of gigs and carryalls. This
+broad road on which we walk was lined with flower-beds and shaded by
+live-oaks. Over there, near that little grove, were three great barns
+and lesser out-buildings, besides the negro quarters, smoke-houses, and
+hay-ricks. Really a wonderful place in its day, Kate."
+
+Then he went on to tell of how the verandas were shaded with
+honeysuckles, and the halls, drawing-rooms, and dining-room crowded
+with furniture; how there were yellow damask curtains, and screens, and
+hair-cloth sofas and a harmonicon of musical glasses which was played
+by wetting one's fingers in a bowl of water and passing them over the
+rims--he had played on it himself when a boy; and slaves galore--nearly
+one hundred of them, not to mention a thousand acres of tillable land
+to plough and harrow, as well as sheep, oxen, pigs, chickens,
+ducks--everything that a man of wealth and position might have had in
+the old days, and about every one of which St. George had a memory.
+
+Then when Tom's father, who was the sole heir, took charge (here his
+voice dropped to a whisper) dissolution proceedings set in--and Tom
+finished them! and St. George sighed heavily as he pointed out the
+changes:--the quarters in ruins, the stables falling to pieces, the
+gates tied up with strings or swinging loose; and the flocks, herds,
+and live-stock things of the past. Nor had a negro been left--none Tom
+really owned: one by one they had been sold or hired out, or gone
+off nobody knew where, he being too lazy, or too indifferent, or too
+good-natured, to hunt them up. The house, as Kate had seen, was equally
+neglected. Even what remained of the old furniture was on its last
+legs--the curtains patched, or in shreds--the carpets worn into holes.
+
+Kate listened eagerly, but she did not sigh. It was all charming to her
+in the soft spring sunshine, the air a perfume, the birds singing, the
+blossoms bursting, the peach-trees anthems of praise--and best of all
+her dear Uncle George strolling at her side. And then everything was so
+clean and fresh and sweet in every nook and corner of the tumble-down
+house. Peggy, as she soon discovered, looked after that--in fact Peggy
+looked after everything that required looking after--and everything
+did--including the judge. Mr. Coston was tired, Peggy would say, or Mr.
+Coston had not been very well, so she just did it herself instead of
+bothering him. Since his promotion it was generally "the judge" who was
+too tired, being absorbed in his court duties, etc., etc. But it always
+came with a laugh, and it was always genuine, for to wait upon him and
+look after him and minister to him was her highest happiness.
+
+Good for nothing as he would have been to some women--unpractical,
+lazy--a man few sensible wives would have put up with--Peggy adored
+him; and so did his children adore him, and so, for that matter, did his
+neighbors, many of whom, although they ridiculed him behind his back,
+could never escape the charm of his personality whenever they sat beside
+his rocking-chair.
+
+This chair--the only comfortable chair in the house, by the way--had, in
+his less distinguished days, been his throne. In it he would sit all day
+long, cutting and whittling, filing and polishing curious trinkets of
+tortoise-shell for watch-guards and tiny baskets made of cherry-stones,
+cunningly wrought and finished. He was an expert, too, in corn-cob
+pipes, which he carved for all his friends; and pin-wheels for
+everybody's children. When it came, however, to such matters as a
+missing hinge to the front door, a brick under a tottering chimney, the
+straightening of a falling fence, the repairing of a loose lock on the
+smoke-house--or even the care of the family carryall, which despite its
+great age and infirmities was often left out in the rain to rust and
+ruin--these things must, of course, wait until the overworked father of
+the house found time to look after them.
+
+The children loved him the most. They asked for nothing better than to
+fix him in his big chair by the fender, throw upon the fire a basket of
+bark chips from the wood-yard, and enough pitch-pine knots to wake them
+up, and after filling his pipe and lighting it, snuggle close--every
+bend and curve of the wide-armed splint-bottomed comfort packed full,
+all waiting to hear him tell one of his stories. Sometimes it was
+the tale of the fish and the cuff-button--how he once dropped his
+sleeve-link overboard, and how a year afterward he was in a shallop on
+the Broadwater fishing for rockflsh when he caught a splendid fellow,
+which when Aunt Patience cleaned--(here his voice would drop to a
+whisper)--"What do you think!--why out popped the sleeve-link that was
+in his cuff this minute!" And for the hundredth time the bit of
+gold would be examined by each child in turn. Or it was the witch
+story--about the Yahoo wild man with great horns and a lashing tail, who
+lived in the swamp and went howling and prowling about for plunder and
+prey. (This was always given with a low, prolonged growl, like a dog in
+pain--all the children shuddering.) And then followed the oft-told tale
+of how this same terrible Yahoo once came up with Hagar, who was riding
+a witch pony to get to the witches' dance in the cane-brake, and how
+he made off with her to the swamp, where she had had to cook for
+him--ever--ever--ever since. (Long-drawn breath, showing that all was
+over for that day at least.)
+
+Todd got the true inwardness of the situation before he had been many
+days at Wesley: for the scene with the children was often repeated when
+court was not in session.
+
+"Fo' Gawd, Marse George, hab you had time to watch dat gemman, de jedge?
+Dey do say he's sumpin' great, but I tell ye he's dat lazy a fly stuck
+in 'lasses 'd pass him on de road."
+
+St. George laughed heartily in reply, but he did not reprimand him.
+
+"What makes you think so, Todd?"
+
+"Can't help thinkin' so. I wuz standin' by de po'ch yisterday holdin'
+Miss Kate's mare, when I yere de mistis ask de jedge ter go out an' git
+'er some kindlin' f'om de wood-pile. He sot a-rockin' hisse'f in dat big
+cheer ob his'n an' I yered him say--'Yes, in a minute,' but he didn't
+move. Den she holler ag'in at him an' still he rock hisse'f, sayin' he's
+comin'. Den, fust thing I knowed out she come to de woodpile an' git it
+herse'f, an' den when she pass him wid 'er arms full o' wood he look
+up an' say--'Peggy, come yere an' kiss me--I dunno what we'd do widout
+ye--you'se de Lawd's anointed, sho'.'"
+
+Kate got no end of amusement out of him, and would often walk with him
+to court that she might listen to his drolleries--especially his queer
+views of life--the simplest and most unaffected to which she had ever
+bent her ears. Now and then, as time went on, despite her good-natured
+toleration of his want of independence--he being always dominated by
+his wife--she chanced, to her great surprise, upon some nuggets of hard
+common-sense of so high an assay that they might really be graded as
+wisdom--his analysis of men and women being particularly surprising.
+Those little twinkling, and sometimes sleepy, eyes of his, now that she
+began to study him the closer, reminded her of the unreadable eyes of
+an elephant she had once seen--eyes that presaged nothing but inertia,
+until whack went the trunk and over toppled the boy who had teased him.
+
+And with this new discovery there developed at last a certain respect
+for the lazy, good-natured, droll old man. Opinions which she had
+heretofore laughed at suddenly became of value; criticisms which she had
+passed over in silence seemed worthy of further consideration.
+
+Peggy, however, fitted into all the tender places of her heart. She had
+never known her own mother; all she remembered was a face bending close
+and a soft hand that tucked in the coverlet one night when she couldn't
+sleep. The memory had haunted her from the days of her childhood--clear
+and distinct, with every detail in place. Had there been light enough in
+her mother's bed-room, she was sure she could have added the dear face
+itself to her recollection. Plump, full-bosomed, rosy-cheeked Peggy
+(fifteen years younger than Tom) supplied the touch and voice, and all
+the tenderness as well, that these sad memories recalled, and all that
+the motherless girl had yearned for.
+
+And the simple, uneventful life--one without restraints of any kind,
+greatly satisfied her: so different from her own at home with Prim as
+Chief Regulator. Everybody, to her delight, did as they pleased, each
+one following the bent of his or her inclination. St. George was out at
+daybreak in the duck-blinds, or, breakfast over, roaming the fields with
+his dogs, Todd a close attendant. The judge would stroll over to court
+an hour or more late, only to find an equally careless and contented
+group blocking up the door--"po' white trash" most of them, each one
+with a grievance. Whenever St. George accompanied him, and he often did,
+his Honor would spend even less time on the bench--cutting short both
+ends of the session, Temple laughing himself sore over the judge's
+decisions.
+
+"And he stole yo' shoat and never paid for him?" he heard his honor say
+one day in a hog case, where two farmers who had been waiting hours for
+Tom's coming were plaintiff and defendant. "How did you know it was yo'
+shoat--did you mark him?"
+
+"No, suh."
+
+"Tie a tag around his neck?"
+
+"No, suh."
+
+"Well, you just keep yo' hogs inside yo' lot. Too many loose hogs
+runnin' 'round. Case is dismissed and co't is adjourned for the day,"
+which, while very poor law, was good common-sense, stray hogs on the
+public highway having become a nuisance.
+
+With these kindly examples before her, Kate soon fell into the ways of
+the house. If she did not wish to get up she lay abed and Peggy brought
+her breakfast with her own hands. If, when she did leave her bed, she
+went about in pussy-slippers and a loose gown of lace and frills
+without her stays, Peggy's only protest was against her wearing anything
+else--so adorable was she. When this happy, dreamy indolence began to
+pall upon her--and she could not stand it for long--she would be up at
+sunrise helping Peggy wash and dress her frolicsome children or get
+them off to school, and this done, would assist in the housework--even
+rolling the pastry with her own delicate palms, or sitting beside the
+bubbling, spontaneous woman, needle in hand, aiding with the family
+mending--while Peggy, glad of the companionship, would sit with ears
+open, her mind alert, probing--probing--trying to read the heart of the
+girl whom she loved the better every day. And so there had crept
+into Kate's heart a new peace that was as fresh sap to a dying plant,
+bringing the blossoms to her cheeks and the spring of wind-blown
+branches to her step.
+
+Then one fine morning, to the astonishment of every one, and greatly to
+Todd's disgust, no less a person than Mr. Langdon Willits of "Oak Hill"
+(distant three miles away) dismounted at Coston's front porch, and
+throwing the reins to the waiting darky, stretched his convalescent, but
+still shaky, legs in the direction of the living-room, there to await
+the arrival of "Miss Seymour of Kennedy Square," who, so he informed
+Todd, "expected him."
+
+Todd scraped a foot respectfully in answer, touched his cocoanut of a
+head with his monkey claw of a finger, waited until the broad back of
+the red-headed gentleman had been swallowed up by the open door, and
+then indulged in this soliloquy:
+
+"Funny de way dem bullets hab o' missin' folks. Des a leetle furder
+down an' dere wouldn't 'a' been none o' dis yere foolishness. Pity Marse
+Harry hadn't practised some mo'. Ef he had ter do it ag'in I reckon he'd
+pink him so he neber be cavortin' 'roun' like he is now."
+
+Willits's sudden appearance filled St. George with ill-concealed
+anxiety. He did not believe in this parade of invalidism, nor did
+he like Kate's encouraging smile when she met him--and there was no
+question that she did smile--and, more portentous still, that she
+enjoyed it. Other things, too, she grew to enjoy, especially the long
+rides in the woods and over to the broad water. For Willits's health
+after a few days of the sunshine of Kate's companionship had undergone
+so renovating a process that the sorrel horse now arrived at the porch
+almost every day, whereupon Kate's Joan would be led out, and the
+smiled-upon gentleman in English riding-boots and brown velvet jacket
+and our gracious lady in Lincoln green habit with wide hat and sweeping
+plume would mount their steeds and be lost among the pines.
+
+Indeed, to be exact, half of Kate's time was now spent in the saddle,
+Willits riding beside her. And with each day's outing a new and, to St.
+George, a more disturbing intimacy appeared to be growing between them.
+Now it was Willits's sister who had to be considered and especially
+invited to Wesley--a thin wisp of a woman with tortoise-shell sidecombs
+and bunches of dry curls, who always dressed in shiny black silk and
+whose only ornament was her mother's hair set in a breastpin; or it was
+his father by whom she must sit when he came over in his gig--a bluff,
+hearty man who generally wore a red waistcoat with big bone buttons and
+high boots with tassels in front.
+
+This last confidential relation, when the manners and bearing of
+the elder man came under his notice, seemed to St. George the most
+unaccountable of all. Departures from the established code always jarred
+upon him, and the gentleman in the red waistcoat and tasselled boots
+often wandered so far afield that he invariably set St. George's teeth
+on edge. Although he had never met Kate before, he called her by her
+first name after the first ten minutes of their acquaintance--his son,
+he explained, having done nothing but sound her praises for the past
+two years, an excuse which carried no weight in gentleman George's mind
+because of its additional familiarity. He had never dared, he knew, to
+extend that familiarity to Peggy--it had always been "Mrs. Coston" to
+her and it had always been "Mr. Coston" to Tom, and it was now "your
+Honor" or "judge" to the dispenser of justice. For though the owner
+of Oak Hill lived within a few miles of the tumble-down remnant that
+sheltered the Costons; and though he had fifty servants to their one, or
+half a one--and broad acres in proportion, to say nothing of flocks and
+herds--St. George had always been aware that he seldom crossed their
+porch steps or they his. That little affair of some fifty or more years
+ago was still remembered, and the children of people who did that sort
+of thing must, of course, pay the penalty. Even Peggy never failed to
+draw the line. "Very nice people, my dear," he had heard her say to Kate
+one day when the subject of the younger man's family had come up. "Mr.
+Willits senior is a fine, open-hearted man, and does a great deal of
+good in the county with his money--quite a politician, and they do say
+has a fair chance of some time being governor of the State. But very few
+of us about here would want to marry into the family, all the same. Oh
+no, my dear Kate, of course there was nothing against his grandmother.
+She was a very nice woman, I believe, and I've often heard my own mother
+speak of her. Her father came from Albemarle Sound, if I am right, and
+was old John Willits's overseer. The girl was his daughter."
+
+Kate had made no answer. Who Langdon Willits's grandmother was, or
+whether he had any grandmother at all, did not concern her in the least.
+She rather admired the young Albemarle Sound girl for walking boldly
+into the Willits family--low born as she was--and making them respect
+her.
+
+But none of Peggy's outspoken warnings nor any of St. George's
+silent acceptances of the several situations--always a mark of his
+disapproval--checked the game of love-making which was going on--the
+give-and-take stage of it, with the odds varying with each new shifting
+of the cards, both Peggy and St. George growing the more nervous.
+
+"She's going to accept him, St. George," Peggy had said to him one
+morning as he stood behind her chair while she was shelling the peas for
+dinner. "I didn't think so when he first came, but I believe it now. I
+have said all I could to her. She has cuddled up in my arms and cried
+herself sick over it, but she won't hold out much longer. Young Rutter
+left her heart all torn and bleeding and this man has bound up the sore
+places. She will never love anybody that way again--and may be it is
+just as well. He'd have kept her guessing all her life as to what he'd
+do next. I wish Willits's blood was better, for she's a dear, sweet
+child and proud as she can be, only she's proud over different things
+from what I would be. But you can make up your mind to it--she'll keep
+him dangling for a while yet, as she did last summer at the Red Sulphur,
+but she'll be his wife in a year or less--you mark my words. You haven't
+yet heard from the first one, have you?--as to when he's coming home?"
+
+St. George hadn't heard--he sighed in return--a habit of his lately: No,
+not for two months or more--not since the letter in which Harry said
+he had left the ship and had gone up into the interior. He had, he told
+her, mentioned the boy's silence to Kate in a casual way, watching the
+effect the news produced upon her--but after the remark that the mails
+were always irregular from those far-away countries, she had turned the
+conversation into other channels, she having caught sight of Willits,
+who had just dismounted from his horse.
+
+As to St. George's own position in the affair he felt that his hands
+were still so firmly tied that he could do nothing one way or the other.
+His personal intercourse with Willits had been such as he would always
+have with a man with whom he was on speaking terms, but it never passed
+that border. He was courteous, careful of his speech, and mindful of the
+young man's devotion to Kate, whose guardian for the time being he was,
+but he neither encouraged nor thwarted his suit. Kate was of age and
+was fully competent to decide for herself--extremely competent, for that
+matter.
+
+How little this clear reader of women's hearts--and scores had been
+spread out before him--knew of Kate's, no one but the girl herself could
+have told. That she was adrift on an open sea without a rudder, and that
+she had already begun to lose confidence both in her seamanship and in
+her compass, was becoming more and more apparent to her every day she
+lived. All she knew positively was that she had been sailing before the
+wind for some weeks past with everything flying loose, and that the time
+had now come for her either to "go about" or keep on her course.
+
+Her suitor's family she had carefully considered. She had also studied
+his environment and the impression he made upon those who had known him
+longest:--she must now focus her mental lenses on the man himself. He
+had, she knew, graduated with honors, being the valedictorian of his
+class; had risen rapidly in his profession, and, from what her father
+said, would soon reach a high place among his brother lawyers. There was
+even talk of sending him to the legislature, where her own father, the
+Honorable Prim, had achieved his title. She wished, of course, that Mr.
+Willits's hair was not quite so red; she wished, too, that the knuckles
+on his hands were not so large and bony--and that he was not always at
+her beck and call; but these, she was forced to admit, were trifles in
+the make-up of a fine man. There was, however, a sane mind under the
+carrot-colored hair and a warm palm inside the knotted knuckles, and
+that was infinitely more important than little physical peculiarities
+which one would forget as life went on. As to his periods of ill health,
+these she herself could have prevented had she told him the whole truth
+that night on the stairs, or the day before when she had parried his
+direct proposal of marriage--a piece of stupidity for which she never
+failed to blame herself.
+
+His future conduct did not trouble her in the least. She had long since
+become convinced that Willits would never again become intemperate. He
+had kept his promise, and this meant more to her than his having given
+way to past temptations. The lesson he had learned at the ball had had,
+too, its full effect. One he had never forgotten. Over and over again
+he had apologized to her for his brutal insolence in laying his profane
+hands on her dancing-card and tearing it to bits before her eyes. He
+had, moreover, deeply regretted the duel and had sworn to her on his
+honor as a gentleman that he would never fight another.
+
+Each time she had listened quietly and had told him how much she was
+pleased and how grateful she was for his confidence and how such fine
+resolutions redounded to his credit, and yet in thinking it over the
+next day she could not help comparing his meek outbursts of sorrow with
+Harry's blunt statement made to her the last time she saw him in the
+park, when, instead of expressing any regret for having shot Willits,
+he had boldly declared that he would do it again if any such insult
+were repeated. And strange to say--and this she could not understand in
+herself--in all such comparisons Harry came out best.
+
+But:--and here she had to hold on to her rudder with all her might--she
+had already made one mistake, tumbling head over heels in love with
+a young fellow who had mortified her before the world when their
+engagement was less than a few months old, making her name and
+affections a byword, and she could not and would not repeat the blunder.
+This had shattered her customary self-reliance, leaving her wellnigh
+helpless. Perhaps after all--an unheard-of thing in her experience--she
+had better seek advice of some older and wiser pilot. Two heads, or even
+three--(here her canny Scotch blood asserted itself)--were better than
+one in deciding so important a matter as the choosing of a mate for
+life. And yet--now she came to think it over--it was not so much a
+question of heads as it was a question of shoulders on which the heads
+rested. To turn to St. George, or to any member of the Willits kin, was
+impossible. Peggy's views she understood. Counsel, however, she must
+have, and at once.
+
+Suddenly an inspiration thrilled her like an electric shock--one that
+sent the blood tingling to the very roots of her hair. Why had she not
+thought of it before! And it must be in the most casual way--quite as a
+matter of general conversation, he doing all the talking and she doing
+all the listening, for on no account must he suspect her purpose.
+
+Within the hour she had tied the ribbons of her wide leghorn hat under
+her dimpled chin, picked up her shawl, and started off alone, following
+the lane to the main road. If the judge, by any chance, had adjourned
+court he would come straight home and she would meet him on the way. If
+he was still engaged in the dispensation of justice, she would wait for
+him outside.
+
+She had judged wisely. Indeed she might have waited for days for some
+such moment and not found so favorable an opportunity. His Honor had
+already left the bench and was then slowly making his way toward where
+she stood, hugging the sidewalk trees the better to shade him from the
+increasing heat. As the day had promised to be an unusually warm one, he
+had attired himself in a full suit of yellow nankeen, with palm-leaf fan
+and wide straw hat--a combination which so matched the color and texture
+of his placid, kindly face that Kate could hardly keep from laughing
+outright. Instead she quickened her steps until she stood beside him,
+her lovely, fresh color heightened by her walk, her eyes sparkling, her
+face wreathed in smiles.
+
+"You are lookin' mighty cute, my Lady Kate, in yo' Paisley shawl and
+sarsanet pelisse," he called out in his hearty, cheery way. "Has Peggy
+seen 'em? I've been tryin' to get her some just like 'em, only my co't
+duties are so pressin'. Goodness, gracious me!--but it's gettin' hot!"
+Here he stopped and mopped his face, then his eyes fell upon her again:
+"Bless my soul, child!--you do look pretty this mornin'--jest like yo'
+mother! Where did you get all those pink and white apple-blossoms in yo'
+cheeks?"
+
+"Do you remember her, Mr. Coston?" she rejoined, ignoring his
+compliment.
+
+"Do I remember her! The belle of fo' counties, my dear--eve'ybody at her
+feet; five or six gentlemen co'tin' her at once; old Captain Barkeley,
+cross as a bear--wouldn't let her marry this one or that one--kep' her
+guessin' night and day, till one of 'em blew his brains out, and then
+she fainted dead away. Pretty soon yo' father co'ted her, and bein'
+Scotch, like the old captain and sober as an owl and about as cunnin',
+it wasn't long befo' everything was settled. Very nice man, yo'
+father--got to have things mighty partic'lar; we young bucks used to say
+he slept in a bag of lavender and powdered his cheeks every mornin'
+to make him look fresh, while most of us were soakin' wet in the
+duck-blinds--but that was only our joke. That's long befo' you were
+born, child. But yo' mother didn't live long--they said her heart was
+broken 'bout the other fellow, but there wasn't a word of truth in that
+foolishness--couldn't be. I used to see her and yo' father together long
+after that, and she was mighty good to him, and he was to her.
+Yes--all comes back to me. Stand still, child, and let me look at
+you--yes--you're plumper than yo' mother and a good deal rosier, and
+you don't look so slender and white as she did, like one of those pale
+Indian pipes she used to hunt in the woods. It's the Seymour in you
+that's done that, I reckon."
+
+Kate walked on in silence. It was not the first time that some of her
+mother's old friends had told her practically the same story--not so
+clearly, perhaps, because few had the simple, outspoken candor of the
+old fellow, but enough to let her know that her father was not her
+mother's first love.
+
+"Don't be in a hurry, child, and don't let anybody choose for you," he
+ran on. "Peggy and I didn't make any mistakes--and don't you. Now this
+young son of Parker Willits's"--here his wrinkled face tightened up into
+a pucker as if he had just bitten into an unripe persimmon--"good enough
+young man, may be; goin' to be something great, I reckon--in Mr. Taney's
+office, I hear, or will be next winter. I 'spect he'll keep out of
+jail--most Willitses do--but keep an eye on him and watch him, and watch
+yo'self too. That's more important still. The cemetery is a long ways
+off when you marry the wrong man, child. And that other fellow that
+Peggy tells me has been co'tin' you--Talbot Rutter's boy--he's a wild
+one, isn't he?--drunk half the time and fightin' everybody who don't
+agree with him. Come pretty nigh endin' young Willits, so they say. Now
+I hear he's run away to sea and left all his debts behind. Talbot turned
+him neck and heels out of doors when he found it out, so they tell
+me--and served the scapegrace right. Don't be in a hurry, child. Right
+man will come bime-by. Just the same with Peggy till I come along--there
+she is now, bless her sweet heart! Peggy, you darlin'--I got so lonely
+for you I just had to 'journ co't. I've been telling Lady Kate that she
+mustn't be in a hurry to get married till she finds somebody that will
+make her as happy as you and me." Here the judge slipped his arm around
+Peggy's capacious waist and the two crossed the pasture as the nearest
+way to the house.
+
+Kate kept on her way alone.
+
+Her only reply to the garrulous judge had been one of her rippling
+laughs, but it was the laughter of bubbles with the sediment lying deep
+in the bottom of the glass.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+
+But all outings must come to an end. And so when the marsh grass on
+the lowlands lay in serried waves of dappled satin, and the corn on the
+uplands was waist high and the roses a mob of beauty, Kate threw her
+arms around Peggy and kissed her over and over again, her whole heart
+flowing through her lips; and then the judge got his good-by on his
+wrinkled cheek, and the children on any clean spot which she found on
+their molasses-covered faces; and then the cavalcade took up its line of
+march for the boat-landing, Willits going as far as the wharf, where he
+and Kate had a long talk in low tones, in which he seemed to be doing
+all the talking and she all the listening--"But nuthin' mo'n jes' a
+han'shake" (so Todd told St. George), "he lookin' like he wanter eat
+her up an' she kinder sayin' dat de cake ain't brown 'nough yit fur
+tastin'--but one thing I know fo' sho'--an' dat is she didn't let 'im
+kiss 'er. I wuz leadin' his horse pas' whar dey wuz standin', an'
+de sorrel varmint got cuttin' up an' I kep' him prancin' till Mister
+Willits couldn't stay wid her no longer. Drat dat red-haided--"
+
+"Stop, Todd--be careful--you mustn't speak that way of Mr. Willits."
+
+"Well, Marse George, I won't--but I ain't neber like him f'om de fust.
+He ain't quality an' he neber kin be. How Miss Kate don' stan' him is
+mo'n I kin tell."
+
+
+Kate drove up to her father's house in state, with Ben as special envoy
+to see that she and her belongings were properly cared for. St. George
+with Todd and the four dogs--six in all--arrived, despite Kate's
+protestations, on foot.
+
+Pawson met him at the door. He had given up his boarding-house and had
+transferred his traps and parcels to the floor above--into Harry's
+old room, really--in order that the additional rent--(he had now taken
+entire charge of Temple's finances)--might help in the payment of the
+interest on the mortgage. He had thought this all out while St. George
+was at Wesley and had moved in without notifying him, that being the
+best way to solve the problem--St. George still retaining his bedroom
+and dining-room and the use of the front door. Jemima, too, had gone.
+She wanted, so she had told her master the day he left with Kate, to
+take a holiday and visit some of her people who lived down by the Marsh
+Market in an old rookery near the Falls, and would come back when he
+sent for her; but Todd had settled all that the morning of his arrival,
+the moment he caught sight of her black face.
+
+"Ain't no use yo' comin' back," the darky blurted out. "I'm gwineter do
+de cookin' and de chamber-wo'k. Dere ain't 'nough to eat fo' mo'n two.
+When dem white-livered, no-count, onery gemmens dat stole Marse George's
+money git in de chain-gang, whar dey b'longs, den may be we'll hab
+sumpin' to go to market on, but dat ain't yit; an' don't ye tell Marse
+George I tol' yer or I'll ha'nt ye like dat witch I done heared 'bout
+down to Wesley--ha'nt ye so ye'll think de debble's got ye." To his
+master, his only explanation was that Jemima had gone to look after her
+sister, who had been taken "wid a mis'ry in her back."
+
+If St. George knew anything of the common talk going on around him
+no one was ever the wiser. He continued the even tenor of his life,
+visiting and receiving his friends, entertaining his friends in a simple
+and inexpensive way: Once Poe had spent an evening with him, when he
+made a manly, straightforward apology for his conduct the night of the
+dinner, and on another occasion Mr. Kennedy had made an especial point
+of missing a train to Washington to have an hour's chat with him. In the
+afternoons he would have a rubber of whist with the archdeacon who
+lived across the Square--a broad-minded ecclesiastic, who believed in
+relaxation, although, of course, he was never seen at the club; or he
+might drop into the Chesapeake for a talk with Richard or sit beside him
+in his curious laboratory at the rear of his house where he worked out
+many of the problems that absorbed his mind and inspired his hopes. At
+night, however late or early--whenever he reached home--there was always
+a romp with his dogs. This last he rarely omitted. The click of the
+front-door latch, followed by his firm step overhead, was their signal,
+and up they would come, tumbling over each other in their eagerness to
+reach his cheeks--straight up, their paws scraping his clothes; then a
+swoop into the dining-room, when they would be "downed" to the floor,
+their eyes following his every movement.
+
+Nor had his own financial situation begun as yet to trouble him. Todd
+and Pawson, however, had long since become nervous. More than once had
+they put their heads together for some plan by which sufficient money
+could be raised for current expenses. In this praiseworthy effort, to
+Todd's unbounded astonishment, Pawson had one night developed a plan
+in which the greatly feared and much-despised Gadgem was to hold first
+place. Indeed on the very morning succeeding the receipt of Pawson's
+letter and at an hour when St. George would be absent at the club, there
+had come a brisk rat-a-tat on the front door and Gadgem had sidled in.
+
+Todd had not seen the collector since that eventful morning when he
+stood by ready to pick up the pieces of that gentleman's dismembered
+body when his master was about to throw him into the street for doubting
+his word, and he now studied him with the greatest interest. The first
+thing that struck him was the collector's clothes. As the summer was
+approaching he had changed his winter suit for a combination of brown
+linen bound with black--(second hand, of course, its former owner
+having gone out of mourning) and at the moment sported a moth-eaten,
+crape-encircled white beaver with a floppy, two-inch brim, a rusty black
+stock that grabbed him close under the chin, completely submerging his
+collar, and a pair of congress gaiters very much run down at the heel.
+He was evidently master of himself and the situation, for he stood
+looking from Todd to the young lawyer, a furtive, anxious expression
+on his face that betokened both a surprise at being sent for and a
+curiosity to learn the cause, although no word of inquiry passed his
+lips.
+
+Pawson's opening remark calmed the collector's suspicions.
+
+"EXactly," he answered in a relieved tone, when the plot had been fully
+developed, dragging a mate of the red bandanna--a blue one--from his
+pocket and blowing his nose in an impressive manner. "EXactly--quite
+right--quite right--difficult perhaps--ENORmously difficult
+but--yes--quite right."
+
+Then there had followed a hurried consultation, during which the
+bullet-headed darky absorbed every word, his eyes rolling about in his
+head, his breath ending somewhere near his jugular vein.
+
+These details duly agreed upon, Gadgem bowed himself out of the
+dining-room, carrying with him a note-book filled with such data as:
+
+    2 fowling pieces made by Purdey, 1838.
+    3 heavy duck guns.
+    2 English saddles.
+    1 silver loving cup.
+    2 silver coasters, etc, etc.,
+
+a list which Todd the night before had prompted and which Pawson, in
+his clear, round hand, had transferred to a sheet of foolscap ready for
+Gadgem in the morning.
+
+On reaching the front door the collector stopped and looked furtively
+up the stairs. He was wondering with professional caution whether St.
+George had returned and was within hearing distance. If so much as a
+hint should reach Temple's ears the whole scheme would come to naught.
+Still in doubt, he called out in his sharpest business voice, as if
+prolonging a conversation which had been carried on inside:
+
+"Yes, Mr. Pawson, please say to Mr. Temple that it is GADgem, of
+GADgem & Coombs--and say that I will be here at ten o'clock
+to-morrow--sharp--on the minute; I am ALways on the minute in matters of
+this kind. Only five minutes of his time--five minutes, remember--" and
+he passed out of hearing.
+
+
+Todd, now duly installed as co-conspirator, opened the ball the next
+morning at breakfast. St. George had slept late, and the hands of the
+marble clock marked but a few minutes of the hour of Gadgem's expected
+arrival, and not a moment could be lost.
+
+"Dat Gadgem man done come yere yisterday," he began, drawing out his
+master's chair with an extra flourish to hide his nervousness, "an' he
+say he's commin' ag'in dis mornin' at ten o'clock. Clar to goodness it's
+dat now! I done forgot to tell ye."
+
+"What does he want, Todd?" asked St. George, dropping into his seat.
+
+"I dunno, sah--said he was lookin' fo' sumpin' fo' a frien' ob his--I
+think it was a gun--an' he wanted to know what kind to buy fur him--Yes,
+sah, dem waffles 's jes' off de fire. He 'lowed he didn't know nuffin'
+'bout guns--butter, sah?--an' den Mister Pawson spoke up an' said he'd
+better ask you. He's tame dis time--leastways he 'peared so."
+
+"A fine gun is rather a difficult thing to get in these days, Todd,"
+replied St. George, opening his napkin. "Since old Joe Manton died I
+don't know but one good maker--and that's Purdey, of London, and he, I
+hear, has orders to last him five years. No, Todd--I'd rather have the
+toast."
+
+"Yes, sah--I knowed ye couldn't do nuffln' fur him--Take de top
+piece--dat's de brownest--but he seemed so cut up 'bout it dat I tol'
+him he might see ye fur a minute if he come 'long 'bout ten o'clock,
+when you was fru' yo' bre'kfus', 'fo' ye got tangled up wid yo' letters
+an' de papers. Dat's him now, I spec's. Shall I show him in?"
+
+"Yes, show him in, Todd. Gadgem isn't a bad sort of fellow after all.
+He only wants his pound of flesh, like the others. Ah, good-morning,
+Mr. Gadgem." The front door had been purposely left open, and though
+the bill collector had knocked by way of warning, he had paused for no
+answer and was already in the room. The little man laid his battered hat
+silently on a chair near the door, pulled down his tight linen sleeves
+with the funereal binding, adjusted his high black stock, and with
+half-creeping, half-cringing movement, advanced to where St. George sat.
+
+"I said good-morning, Mr. Gadgem," repeated St. George in his most
+captivating tone of voice. He had been greatly amused at Gadgem's
+antics.
+
+"I heard you, sir--I heard you DIStinctly, sir--I was only seeking a
+place on which to rest my hat, sir--not a very inSPIRing hat-quite the
+contrary--but all I have. Yes, sir--you are quite right--it is a VERY
+good morning--a most deLIGHTful morning. I was convinced of that when I
+crossed the park, sir. The trees--"
+
+"Never mind the trees, Gadgem. We will take those up later on. Tell me
+what I can do for you--what do you want?"
+
+"A GUN, sir--a plain, straightforward GUN--one that can be relied upon.
+Not for mySELF, sir--I am not murderously inclined--but for a friend
+who has commissioned me--the exact word, sir--although the percentage
+is small--comMISsioned me to acquire for him a fowling piece of the
+pattern, weight, and build of those belonging to St. George W. Temple,
+Esquire, of Kennedy Square-and so I made bold, sir, to--"
+
+"You won't find it, Gadgem," replied St. George, buttering the toast. "I
+have two that I have shot with for years that haven't their match in the
+State. Todd, bring me one of those small bird guns--there, behind the
+door in the rack. Hand it to Mr. Gadgem. Now, can you see by the shape
+of--take hold of it, man. But do you know anything about guns?"
+
+"Only enough to keep away from their muzzles, sir." He had it in his
+hand now--holding it by the end of the barrel, Todd instinctively
+dodging out of the way, although he knew it was not loaded. "No, sir,
+I don't know anything--not the very SMALLest thing about guns. There is
+nothing, in fact, I know so little about as a gun--that is why I have
+come to you."
+
+St. George recovered the piece and laid it as gently on the table beside
+his plate as if it had been a newly laid egg.
+
+"No, I don't think you do," he laughed, "or you wouldn't hold it upside
+down. Now go on and give me the rest."
+
+Gadgem emitted a chuckle--the nearest he ever came to a laugh: "To have
+it go ON, sir, is infinitely preferable than to have it go OFF, sir.
+He-he! And you have, I believe you said, two of these highly valuable
+implements of death?"
+
+"Yes, five altogether--two of this kind. Here, Todd"--and he picked up
+the gun--"put it back behind the door."
+
+Gadgem felt in his inside pocket, produced and consulted a memorandum
+with the air of a man who wanted to be entirely sure, and in a bland
+voice said:
+
+"I should think at your time of life--if you will permit me, sir--that
+one less gun would not seriously inconvenience you. Would you permit me,
+sir, to hope that--"
+
+St. George looked up from his plate and a peculiar expression flitted
+across his face.
+
+"You mean you want to buy it?"
+
+The bill collector made a little movement forward and scrutinized St.
+George's face with the eye of a hawk. For a man of Temple's kidney to be
+without a fowling piece was like a king being without a crown. This
+was the crucial moment. Gadgem knew Temple's class, and knew just how
+delicately he must be handled. If St. George's pride, or his love for
+his favorite chattels--things personal to himself--should overcome him,
+the whole scheme would fall to the ground. That any gentleman of
+his standing had ever seen the inside of a pawn-shop in his life was
+unthinkable. This was what Gadgem faced. As for Todd, he had not drawn a
+full breath since Gadgem opened his case.
+
+"Not EXactly buy it, sir," purred Gadgem, twisting his body into
+an obsequious spiral. "Men of your position do not traffic in such
+things--but if you would be persuaded, sir, for a money consideration
+which you would fix yourself--say the ORIGinal cost of the gun--to
+spare one of your five--you would greatly delight--in fact, you would
+overWHELM with gratitude--a friend of mine."
+
+St. George hesitated, looked out of the window and a brand-new thought
+forced its way into his mind--as if a closet had been suddenly opened,
+revealing a skeleton he had either forgotten or had put permanently
+out of sight. There WAS need of this "original cost"--instant
+need--something he had entirely forgotten. Jemima would soon need
+it--perhaps needed it at that very minute. He had, it was true, often
+kept her waiting: but that was when he could pay at his pleasure; now,
+perhaps, he couldn't pay at all.
+
+"All right, Gadgem," he said slowly, a far-away, thoughtful look on his
+face--"come to think of it I don't need two guns of this calibre, and
+I am quite willing to let this one go, if it will oblige your friend."
+Here Todd breathed a sigh of relief so loud and deep that his master
+turned his head in inquiry. "As to the price--I'll look that up. Come
+and see me again in a day or two. Better take the gun with you now."
+
+The fight had been won, but the risk had been great. Even Pawson could
+hardly believe his ears when Gadgem, five minutes later, related the
+outcome of the interview.
+
+"Well, then, it will be plain sailing so long as the rest of the things
+last," said Pawson, handling the piece with a covetous touch. He too
+liked a day off when he could get it. "Who will you sell the gun to,
+Gadgem?"
+
+"God knows--I don't! I'll borrow the money on it somehow--but I can't
+see him suffer--no, sir--can't see him SUFfer. It's a pleasure to serve
+him--real gentleman--REAL--do you hear, Pawson? No veneer--no sham--no
+lies! Damn few such men, I tell you. Never met one before-never will
+meet one again. Gave up everything he had for a rattle-brain young
+scamp--BEGgared himself to pay his debts--not a drop of the fellow's
+blood in his veins either--incredible--inCREDible! Got to handle him
+like gunpowder or he'll blow everything into matchsticks. Find out the
+price and I'll bring the money to-morrow. Do you pay it to him; I can't.
+I'd feel too damn mean after lying to him the way I have. Feel that way
+now. Good-day."
+
+The same scene was practically repeated the following month. It was an
+English saddle this time, St. George having two. And it was the same
+unknown gentleman who figured as "the much-obliged friend," Pawson
+conducting the negotiations and securing the owner's consent. On this
+occasion Gadgem sold the saddle outright to the keeper of a livery
+stable, whose bills he collected, paying the difference between the
+asking and the selling price out of his own pocket.
+
+Gradually, however, St. George awoke to certain unsuspected features of
+what was going on around him. The discovery was made one morning when
+the go-between was closeted in Pawson's lower office, Pawson conducting
+the negotiations in St. George's dining-room. The young attorney,
+with Gadgem's assistance, had staved off some accounts until a legal
+ultimatum had been reached, and, having but few resources of his
+own left, had, with Todd's help, decided that the silver loving-cup
+presented to his client's father by the Marquis de Castullux could alone
+save the situation--a decision which brought an emphatic refusal from
+the owner. This and the discovery of Pawson's and Gadgem's treachery had
+greatly incensed him.
+
+"And you tell me, Pawson, that that scoundrel, Gadgem, has--Todd go
+down and bring him up here immediately--has had the audacity to run a
+pawnshop for my benefit without so much as asking my leave?--peddling
+my things?--lying to me straight through?" Here the door opened and
+Gadgem's face peered in. He had, as was his custom, crept upstairs so as
+to be within instant call when wanted.
+
+"Yes--I am speaking of you, sir. Come inside and shut that door behind
+you. You too, Todd. What the devil do you mean, Gadgem, by deceiving me
+in this way? Don't you know I would rather have starved to death than--"
+
+Gadgem raised his hand in protest:
+
+"EXactly so, sir. That's what we were afraid of, sir--such an
+uncomfortable thing to starve to death, sir--I couldn't permit it,
+sir--I'd rather walk my feet off than permit it. I did walk them off--"
+
+"But who asked you to tramp the streets with my things uuder your arm?
+And you lied to me about it--you said you wanted to oblige a friend.
+There wasn't a word of truth in it, and you know it."
+
+Again Gadgem's hand went out with a pleading "Please-don't" gesture.
+"Less than a word, sir--a whole dictionary, less, sir, and UNabridged
+at that, if I might be permitted to say it. My friend still has the
+implement of death, and not only does he still possess it, but he is
+ENORmously obliged. Indeed, I have never SEEN him so happy."
+
+"You mean to tell me, Gadgem," St. George burst out, "that the money you
+paid me for the gun really came from a friend of yours?"
+
+"I do, sir." Gadgem's gimlet eye was worming itself into Temple's.
+
+"What's his name?"
+
+"Gadgem, sir--John Gadgem, of Gadgem & Coombs--Gadgem sole survivor,
+since Coombs is with the angels; the foreclosure having taken place last
+month: hence these weeds." And he lifted the tails of his black coat in
+evidence.
+
+"Out of your own money?"
+
+"Yes, sir--some I had laid away."
+
+St. George wheeled suddenly and stood looking first at Gadgem, then at
+Pawson, and last at Todd, as if for confirmation. Then a light broke in
+upon him--one that played over his face in uncertain flashes.
+
+"And you did this for me?" he asked thoughtfully, fixing his gaze on
+Gadgem.
+
+"I did, sir," came the answer in a meek voice, as if he had been
+detected in filching an apple from a stand; "and I would do it again--do
+it over and over again. And it has been a great pleasure for me to do
+it. I might say, sir, that it has been a kind of exTREME bliss to do
+it."
+
+"Why?" There was a tremor now in Temple's voice that even Todd had never
+noticed before.
+
+Gadgem turned his head away. "I don't know, sir," he replied in a lower
+tone. "I couldn't explain it on oath; I don't care to explain it, sir."
+No lie could serve him now--better make a clean breast of the villany.
+
+"And you still own the gun?" Todd had never seen his master so gentle
+before--not under a provocation such as this.
+
+"I do, sir." Gadgem's voice was barely audible.
+
+"Then it means that you have locked up just that much of your own money
+for a thing you can never use yourself and can't sell. Am I right?"
+
+Gadgem lowered his head and for a moment studied the carpet. His
+activities, now that the cat was out of the bag, were fair subjects for
+discussion, but not his charities.
+
+"I prefer not to answer, sir, and--" the last words died in his throat.
+
+"But it's true, isn't it?" persisted St. George. He had never once taken
+his eyes from Gadgem.
+
+"Yes, it's true."
+
+St. George turned on his heel, walked to the mantel, stood for an
+instant gazing into the empty fireplace, and then, with that same
+straightening of his shoulders and lift of his head which his friends
+knew so well when he was deeply stirred, confronted the collector again:
+
+"Gadgem!" He stopped and caught his breath. For a moment it seemed as
+if something in his throat choked his utterance. "Gadgem--give me your
+hand! Do you know you are a gentleman and a thoroughbred! No--don't
+speak--don't explain. We understand each other. Todd, bring three
+glasses and hand me what is left of the old Port. And do you join us,
+Pawson."
+
+Todd, whose eyes had been popping from his head during the entire
+interview, and who was still amazed at the outcome, suddenly woke to
+the dangers of the situation: on no account must his master's straits be
+further revealed. He raised his hand as a signal to St. George, who
+was still looking into Gadgem's eyes, screwed his face into a tangle
+of puckers and in a husky whisper muttered, so low that only his master
+could hear:
+
+"Dat Port, Marse George"--one eye now went entirely out in a wink--"is
+gittin' a leetle mite low" (there hadn't been a drop of it in the house
+for six months) "an' if--"
+
+"Well, then, that old Brown Sherry--get a fresh bottle, Todd--" St.
+George was quite honest, and so, for that matter, was Todd: the Brown
+Sherry had also seen its day.
+
+"Yes, sah--but how would dat fine ol' peach brandy de jedge gin ye do?
+It's sp'ilin' to be tasted, sah." Both eyes were now in eclipse in
+the effort to apprise his master that with the exception of some badly
+corked Madeira, Tom Coston's peach brandy was about the only beverage
+left in the cellar.
+
+"Well, the old peach brandy, then--get it at once and serve it in the
+large glasses."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+
+St. George had now reached the last stage of his poverty. The selling or
+pawning of the few valuables left him had been consummated and with the
+greatest delicacy, so as best to spare his feelings. That he had been
+assisted by hitherto unknown friends who had sacrificed their own
+balances in his behalf, added temporarily to his comforts but did not
+lessen the gravity of the present situation. The fact remained that with
+the exception of a few possible assets he was practically penniless.
+Every old debt that could be collected--and Gadgem had been a scourge
+and a flaming sword as the weeks went on in their gathering--had been
+rounded up. Even his minor interests in two small ground rents had,
+thanks to Pawson, been cashed some years in advance. His available
+resources were now represented by some guns, old books, bridles, another
+saddle, his rare Chinese punch-bowl and its teakwood stand, and a few
+remaining odds and ends.
+
+He could hope for no payment from the Patapsco--certainly not for some
+years; nor could he raise money even on these hopes, the general opinion
+being that despite the efforts of John Gorsuch, Rutter, and Harding to
+punish the guilty and resuscitate the innocent, the bank would finally
+collapse without a cent being paid the depositors. As for that old
+family suit, it had been in the courts for forty-odd years and it was
+likely to be there forty-odd years more before a penny would be realized
+from the settlement.
+
+Had he been differently constructed--he a man with scores and scores of
+friends, many of whom would gladly have helped him--he might have made
+his wants known; but such was not his make-up. The men to whom he
+could apply--men like Horn, the archdeacon, Murdoch, and one or two
+others--had no money of their own to spare, and as for wealthier
+men--men like Rutter and Harding--starvation itself would be preferable
+to an indebtedness of that kind. Then again, he did not want his poverty
+known. He had defied Talbot Rutter, and had practically shown him the
+door when the colonel doubted his ability to pay Harry's debts and
+still live, and no humiliation would be greater than to see Rutter's
+satisfaction over his abject surrender. No--if the worst came to the
+worst, he would slip back to Wesley, where he was always welcome and
+take up the practice of the law, which he had abandoned since his
+father's death, and thus earn money enough not to be a burden to Peggy.
+In the meantime something might turn up. Perhaps another of Gadgem's
+thumb-screws could be fastened on some delinquent and thus extort a
+drop or two; or the bank might begin paying ten per cent.; or another
+prepayment might be squeezed out of a ground rent. If none of these
+things turned out to his advantage, then Gadgem and Pawson must continue
+their search for customers who would have the rare opportunity of
+purchasing, direct "from the private collection of a gentleman," etc.,
+etc., "one first-class English saddle," etc., etc.
+
+"The meantime," however, brought no relief. Indeed so acute had the
+financial strain become that another and a greater sacrifice--one that
+fairly cut his heart in two--faced him--the parting with his dogs. That
+four mouths besides his own and Todd's were too many to feed had of late
+become painfully evident. He might send them to Wesley of course, but
+then he remembered that no one at Tom Coston's ever had a gun in their
+hands, and they would only be a charge and a nuisance to Peggy. Or he
+might send them up into Carroll County to a farmer friend, but in that
+case he would have to pay their keep, and he needed the money for those
+at home. And so he waited and pondered.
+
+A coachman from across the park solved the difficulty a day or two
+later with a whispered word in Todd's ear, which set the boy's temper
+ablaze--for he dearly loved the dogs himself--until he had talked it
+over with Pawson and Gadgem, and had then broken the news to his master
+as best he could.
+
+"Dem dogs is eatin' dere haids off," he began, fidgeting about the
+table, brushing the crumbs on to a tray only to spill half of them on
+the floor--"an' Mister Floyd's coachman done say dat his young marster's
+jes' a-dyin' for 'em an' don't cyar what he pay for 'em, dat is if ye--"
+but St. George cut him short.
+
+"What did you say, Todd?"
+
+"Why dat young marster dat's jes' come up f'om Ann'rundel--got mo' money
+den he kin th'ow 'way I yere."
+
+"And they are eating their heads off, are they?--and he wants to swap
+his dirty money for my--Yes--I know. They think they can buy anything
+with a banknote. And its Floe and Dandy and Sue and Rupert, is it?
+And I'm to sell them--I who have slept with them and ate with them
+and hugged them a thousand times. Of course they eat their heads off.
+Yes--don't say another word. Send them up one at a time--Floe first!"
+
+The scene that followed always lingered in his mind. For days thereafter
+he could not mention their name, even to Todd, without the tears
+springing to his eyes.
+
+Up the kitchen flight they tumbled--not one at a time, but all in a
+scramble, bounding straight at him, slobbering all over his face and
+hands, their paws scraping his clothes--each trying to climb into his
+lap--big Gordon setters, all four. He swept them off and ranged them in
+a row before his arm-chair with their noses flat to the carpet, their
+brown agate eyes following his every movement.
+
+"Todd says you eat too much, you damned rascals!" he cried in enforced
+gayety, leaning forward, shaking his finger in their faces. "What the
+devil do you mean, coming into a gentleman's private apartments and
+eating him out of house and home!--and that's what you're doing.
+I'm going to sell you!--do you hear that?--sell you to some stingy
+curmudgeon who'll starve you to death, and that's what you deserve!...
+Come here, Floe--you dear old doggie, you--nice Floe!... Here,
+Dandy--Rupert--Sue!" They were all in his arms, their cold noses
+snuggled under his warm chin. But this time he didn't care what they
+did to his clothes--nor what he did to them. He was alone; Todd had
+gone down to the kitchen--only he and the four companions so dear to his
+heart. "Come here, you imp of the devil," he continued, rubbing Floe's
+ears--he loved her best--pinching her nose until her teeth showed;
+patting her flanks, crooning over her as a woman would over a child,
+talking to himself all the time. "I wonder if Floyd will be good to
+them! If I thought he wouldn't I'd rather starve than--No--I reckon it's
+all right--he's got plenty of room and plenty of people to look
+after them." Then he rose from his chair and drew his hand across
+his forehead. "Got to sell my dogs, eh? Turned traitor, have you, Mr.
+Temple, and gone back on your best friends? By God! I wonder what will
+come next?" He strode across the room, rang for Todd, and bending down
+loosened a collar from Dandy's neck, on which his own name was engraved,
+"St. George Wilmot Temple, Esquire." "Esquire, eh?" he muttered, reading
+the plate. "What a damned lie! Property of a pauper living on pawnshops
+and a bill collector! Nice piece of business, St. George--fine record
+for your blood and breeding! Ah, Todd--that you? Well, take them
+downstairs and send word to Mr. Floyd's man to call for them to-night,
+and when you come back I'll have a letter ready for you. Come here, you
+rascals, and let me hug one or two of you. Good Floe--good doggie."
+Then the long-fought choke in his throat strangled him. "Take them away,
+Todd," he said in a husky voice, straightening his shoulders as if the
+better to get his breath, and with a deep indrawn sigh walked slowly
+into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.
+
+Half an hour later there followed a short note, written on one of his
+few remaining sheets of English paper, addressed to the new owner, in
+which he informed that gentleman that he bespoke for his late companions
+the same care and attention which he had always given them himself,
+and which they so richly deserved, and which he felt sure they would
+continue to receive while in the service of his esteemed and honored
+correspondent. This he sealed in wax and stamped with his crest; and
+this was duly delivered by Todd--and so the painful incident had come to
+an end.
+
+The dogs disposed of, there still remained to him another issue to
+meet--the wages he owed Jemima. Although she had not allowed the subject
+to pass her lips--not even to Todd--St. George knew that she needed the
+money--she being a free woman and her earnings her own--not a master's.
+He had twice before determined to set aside enough money from former
+cash receipts to liquidate Jemima's debt--once from the proceeds of
+Gadgem's gun and again from what Floyd paid him for the dogs--but Todd
+had insisted with such vehemence that he needed it for the marketing,
+that he had let it go over.
+
+The one remaining object of real value was the famous loving-cup. With
+this turned into money he would be able to pay Jemima in full. For days
+he debated the matter with himself, putting the question in a dozen
+different lights: it was not really HIS cup, but belonged to the family,
+he being only its custodian; it would reflect on his personal honor if
+he traded so distinguished a gift--one marking the esteem in which his
+dead father had been held, etc. Then the round, good-natured face and
+bent figure of his old stand-by and comfort--who had worked for him and
+for his father almost all her life--rose before him, she bending over
+her tubs earning the bread to keep her alive, and with this picture in
+his mind all his fine-spun theories vanished into thin air. Todd was
+summoned and thus the last connecting link between the past and
+present was broken and the precious heirloom turned over to Kirk, the
+silversmith, who the next day found a purchaser with one of the French
+secretaries in Washington, a descendant of the marquis.
+
+With the whole of the purchase money in his hands and his mind firmly
+made up he rang for his servant:
+
+"Come along, Todd--show me where Aunt Jemima lives--it's somewhere down
+by the market, I hear--I'm going now."
+
+The darky's face got as near white as his skin would allow: this was the
+last thing he had expected.
+
+"Dat ain't no fit place for ye, Marse George," he stammered. "I'll
+go an' git her an' bring her up; she tol' me when I carried dat las'
+washin' down she wuz a-comin' dis week."
+
+"No, her sister is sick and she is needed where she is. Get your basket
+and come along--you can do your marketing down there. Bring me my hat
+and cane. What's the matter with her sister, do you know?"
+
+Again the darky hedged: "Dunno, sah--some kin' o' mis'ry in her back
+I reckon. Las' time Aunt Jemima was yere she say de doctor 'lowed her
+kittens was 'fected." (It was another invalid limping past the front
+steps who had put that in his head.)
+
+St. George roared: "Well, whatever she's got, I'm going to pay my
+respects to her; I've neglected Aunt Jemima too long. No--my best
+hat--don't forget that I'm going to call on a very distinguished colored
+lady. Come, out with it. How far does she live from the market?"
+
+"Jes' 'bout's far's from yere to de church. Is you gwine now? I got a
+heap o' cleanin' ter do--dem steps is all gormed up, dey's dat dirty.
+Maybe we better go when--"
+
+"Not another word out of you! I'm going now." He could feel the money in
+his pocket and he could not wait. "Get your basket."
+
+Todd led the way and the two crossed the park and struck out for the
+lower part of the city, near Jones Falls, into a district surrounded by
+one-and two-story houses inhabited by the poorer class of whites and the
+more well-to-do free negroes. Here the streets, especially those which
+ran to the wharves, were narrow and ill-paved, their rough cobbles
+being often obstructed by idle drays, heavy anchors, and rusting
+anchor-chains, all on free storage. Up one of these crooked streets,
+screened from the brick sidewalk by a measly wooden fence, stood a
+two-story wooden house, its front yard decorated with clothes-lines
+running criss-cross from thumbs of fence-posts to fingers of shutters--a
+sort of cat's-cradle along whose meshes Aunt Jemima hung her wet
+clothes.
+
+On this particular day what was left of St. George Temple's wardrobe and
+bed linen, with the exception of what that gentleman had on his back,
+was either waving in the cool air of the morning or being clothes-pinned
+so that it might wave later on.
+
+Todd's anxious face was the first to thrust itself from around the
+corner of a sagging, sloppy sheet. The two had entered the gate in the
+fence at the same moment, but St. George had been lost in the maze of
+dripping linen.
+
+"Go'way f'om dar, you fool nigger, mussin' up my wash! Keep yo' black
+haid off'er dem sheets, I tell ye, 'fo' I smack ye! An' ye needn't come
+down yere a-sassin' me 'bout Marse George's clo'es, 'cause dey ain't
+done--" (here Temple's head came into view, his face in a broad smile).
+"Well, fer de lan's sakes, Marse George. What ye come down yere fer?
+Here--lemme git dat basket outer yo' way--No, dem hands ain't fit fer
+nobody to shake--My!--but I's mighty glad ter see ye! Don't tell me
+ye come fer dat wash--I been so pestered wid de weather--nothin' don't
+dry."
+
+He had dodged a wet sheet and had the old woman by the hand now, her
+face in a broad grin at sight of him.
+
+"No, aunty--I came down to pay you some money."
+
+"You don't owe me no money--leastwise you don't owe me nothin' till ye
+kin pay it," and she darted an annihilating glance at Todd.
+
+"Yes, I do--but let me see where you live. What a fine place--plenty of
+room except on wash-days. All those mine?--I didn't know I had that many
+clothes left. Pick up that basket, Todd, and bring it in for aunty." The
+two made their way between the wet linen and found themselves in front
+of the dwelling. "And is this all yours?"
+
+"De fust flo' front an 'back is mine an' de top flo' I rents out. Got a
+white man in dere now dat works in de lumber yard. Jes' come up an' see
+how I fixed it up."
+
+"And tell me about your sister--is she better?" he continued.
+
+The old woman put her arms akimbo: "Lawd bress ye, Marse George!--who
+done tol' ye dat fool lie! I ain't got no sister--not yere!"
+
+"Why, I thought you couldn't come back to me because you had to nurse
+some member of your family who had kittens, or some such misery in her
+spine--wasn't that it, Todd?" said St. George trying to conceal a smile.
+
+Todd shot a beseeching look at Jemima to confirm his picturesque yarn,
+but the old woman would have none of it.
+
+"Dere ain't been nobody to tek care ob but des me. I come yere 'cause
+I knowed ye didn't hab no money to keep me, an' I got back de ol'
+furniture what I had fo' I come to lib wid ye, an' went to washin', an'
+if dat yaller skunk's been tellin' any lies 'bout me I'm gwineter wring
+his neck."
+
+"No, let Todd alone," laughed St. George, his heart warming to the old
+woman at this further proof of her love for him. "The Lord has already
+forgiven him that lie, and so have I. And now what have you got
+upstairs?"
+
+They had mounted the steps by this time and St. George was peering into
+a clean, simply furnished room. "First rate, aunty--your lumber-yard
+man is in luck. And now put that in your pocket," and he handed her the
+package.
+
+"What's dis?"
+
+"Nearly half a year's wages."
+
+"I ain't gwineter take it," she snapped back in a positive tone.
+
+St. George laid his hand tenderly on the old woman's shoulder. She had
+served him faithfully for many years and he was very fond of her.
+
+"Tuck it in your bosom, aunty--it should have been paid long ago."
+
+She looked at him shrewdly: "Did de bank pay ye yit, Marse George?"
+
+No
+
+"Den I ain't gwineter tech it--I ain't gwineter tech a fip ob it!" she
+exploded. "How I know ye ain't a-sufferin' fer it! See dat wash?--an' I
+got anudder room to rent if I'm min' ter scrunch up a leetle mo'. I kin
+git 'long."
+
+St. George's hand again tightened on her shoulder.
+
+"Take it when you can get it, aunty," he said in a more serious tone,
+and turning on his heel joined Todd below, leaving the old woman in
+tears at the top of the stairs, the money on her limp outspread fingers.
+
+All the way back to his home--they had stopped to replenish the larder
+at the market--St. George kept up his spirits. Absurd as it was--he
+a man tottering on the brink of dire poverty--the situation from his
+stand-point was far from perilous. He had discharged the one debt that
+had caused him the most anxiety--the money due the faithful old cook; he
+had a basketful of good things--among them half a dozen quail and three
+diamond-back terrapin--the cheapest food in the market--and he had funds
+left for his immediate wants.
+
+With this feeling of contentment permeating his mind something of the
+old feeling of independence, with its indifference toward the dollar and
+what it meant and could bring him, welled up in his heart. For a time at
+least the spectre of debt lay hidden. A certain old-time happiness began
+to show itself in his face and bearing. So evident was this that before
+many days had passed even Todd noticed the return of his old buoyancy,
+and so felt privileged to discuss his own feelings, now that the secret
+of their mode of earning a common livelihood was no longer a bugbear to
+his master.
+
+"Dem taters what we got outer de extry sterrups of dat ridin'-saddle is
+mos' gone," he ventured one morning at breakfast, when the remains of
+the cup money had reached a low ebb. "Shall I tote de udder saddle down
+to dat Gadgem man"--(he never called him anything else, although of late
+he had conceived a marked respect for the collector)--"or shall I keep
+it fer some mo' sugar?"
+
+"What else is short, Todd?" said St. George, good-naturedly, helping
+himself to another piece of corn bread.
+
+"Well, dere's plenty ob dose decanter crackers and de pair ob andirons
+is still holdin' out wid de mango pickles an' de cheese, but dat pair
+ob ridin'-boots is mos' gone. We got half barrel ob flour an' a bag o'
+coffee, ye 'member, wid dem boots. I done seen some smoked herrin' in
+de market yisterday mawnin' 'd go mighty good wid de buckwheat cakes an'
+sugar-house 'lasses--only we ain't got no 'lasses. I was a-thinkin' dem
+two ol' cheers in de garret 'd come in handy; ain't nobody sot in em
+since I been yere; de bottoms is outen one o' dem, but de legs an' backs
+is good 'nough fer a quart o' 'lasses. I kin take 'em down to de same
+place dat Gadgem man tol' me to take de big brass shovel an' tongs--"
+
+"All right, Todd," rejoined St. George, highly amused at the boy's
+economic resources. "Anything that Mr. Gadgem recommends I agree to.
+Yes--take him the chairs--both of them."
+
+Even the men at the club had noticed the change and congratulated him on
+his good spirits. None of them knew of his desperate straits, although
+many of them had remarked on the differences in his hospitality, while
+some of the younger gallants--men who made a study of the height
+and roll of the collars of their coats and the latest cut of
+waistcoats--especially the increased width of the frogs on the
+lapels--had whispered to each other that Temple's clothes certainly
+needed overhauling; more particularly his shirts, which were much
+the worse for wear: one critic laying the seeming indifference to the
+carelessness of a man who was growing old; another shaking his head with
+the remark that it was Poole's bill which was growing old--older by a
+good deal than the clothes, and that it would have to be patched and
+darned with one of old George Brown's (the banker's) scraps of paper
+before the wearer could regain his reputation of being the best-dressed
+man in or out of the club.
+
+None of these lapses from his former well-to-do estate made any
+difference, however, to St. George's intimates when it came to the
+selection of important guests for places at table or to assist in the
+success of some unusual function. Almost every one in and around Kennedy
+Square had been crippled in their finances by the failure, not only
+of the Patapsco, but by kindred institutions, during the preceding few
+years. Why, then, they argued, should any one criticise such economies
+as Temple was practising? He was still living in his house with his
+servants--one or two less, perhaps--but still in comfort, and if he did
+not entertain as heretofore, what of it? His old love of sport, as was
+shown by his frequent visits to his estates on the Eastern Shore, might
+account for some of the changes in his hospitable habits, there not
+being money enough to keep up establishments both in country and town.
+These changes, of course, could only be temporary. His properties on
+the peninsula--(almost everybody had "properties" in those days, whether
+imaginary or real)--would come up some day, and then all would be well
+again.
+
+The House of Seymour was particularly in the dark. The Honorable Prim,
+in his dense ignorance, had even asked St. George to join in one of his
+commercial enterprises--the building of a new clipper ship--while Kate,
+who had never waited five minutes in all her life for anything that
+a dollar could buy, had begged a subscription for a charity she was
+managing, and which she received with a kiss and a laugh, and without a
+moment's hesitation, from a purse shrinking steadily by the hour.
+
+Only when some idle jest or well-meant inquiry diverted his mind to
+the chain of events leading up to Harry's exile was his insistent
+cheerfulness under his fast accumulating misfortunes ever checked.
+
+Todd was the cruel disturber on this particular day, with a bit of
+information which, by reason of its source, St. George judged must be
+true, and which because of its import brought him infinite pain.
+
+"Purty soon we won't hab 'nough spoons to stir a toddy wid," Todd had
+begun. "I tell ye, Marse George, dey ain't none o' dem gwine down in
+dere pockets till de constable gits 'em. I jes' wish Marse Harry was
+yere--he'd fix 'em. 'Fo' dey knowed whar dey wuz he'd hab 'em full o'
+holes. Dat red-haided, no-count gemman what's a-makin up to Miss Kate is
+gwineter git her fo' sho--"
+
+It was here that St. George had raised his head, his heart in his mouth.
+
+"How do you know, Todd?" he asked in a serious tone. He had long since
+ceased correcting Todd for his oustpoken reflections on Kate's suitor as
+a useless expenditure of time.
+
+"'Cause Mammy Henny done tol' Aunt Jemima so--an' she purty nigh cried
+her eyes out when she said it. Ye ain't heared nothin' 'bout Marse Harry
+comin' home, is ye?"
+
+"No--not a word--not for many months, Todd. He's up in the mountains, so
+his mother tells me."
+
+Whereupon Todd had gulped down an imprecation expressive of his feelings
+and had gone about his duties, while St. George had buried himself
+in his easy-chair, his eyes fixed on vacancy, his soul all the more
+a-hungered for the boy he loved. He wondered where the lad was--why he
+hadn't written. Whether the fever had overtaken him and he laid up
+in some filthy hospital. Almost every week his mother had either come
+herself or sent in for news, accompanied by messages expressing some new
+phase of her anxiety. Or had he grown and broadened out and become big
+and strong?--whom had he met, and how had they treated him?--and would
+he want to leave home again when once he came back? Then, as always,
+there came a feeling of intense relief. He thanked God that Harry WASN'T
+at home; a daily witness of the shrinkage of his resources and the
+shifts to which he was being put. This would be ten times worse for
+him to bear than the loss of the boy's companionship. Harry would then
+upbraid him for the sacrifices he had made for him, as if he would
+not take every step over again! Take them!--of course he would take
+them!--so would any other gentleman. Not to have come to Harry's rescue
+in that the most critical hour of his life, when he was disowned by his
+father, rejected by his sweetheart, and hounded by creditors, not one of
+whom did he justly owe, was unthinkable, absolutely unthinkable, and not
+worth a moment's consideration.
+
+And so he would sit and muse, his head in his hand, his well-rounded
+legs stretched toward the fire, his white, shapely fingers tapping
+the arms of his chair--each click so many telegraphic records of the
+workings of his mind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+
+With the closing in of the autumn and the coming of the first winter
+cold, the denizens of Kennedy Square gave themselves over to the
+season's entertainments. Mrs. Cheston, as was her usual custom, issued
+invitations for a ball--this one in honor of the officers who had
+distinguished themselves in the Mexican War. Major Clayton, Bowdoin,
+the Murdochs, Stirlings, and Howards--all persons of the highest
+quality--inaugurated a series of chess tournaments, the several players
+and those who came to look on to be thereafter comforted with such
+toothsome solids as wild turkey, terrapin, and olio, and such delectable
+liquids as were stored in the cellars of their hosts. Old Judge
+Pancoast, yielding to the general demand, gave an oyster roast--his
+enormous kitchen being the place of all others for such a function. On
+this occasion two long wooden tables were scoured to an unprecedented
+whiteness--the young girls in white aprons and the young men in white
+jackets serving as waiters--and laid with wooden plates, and two big
+wooden bowls--one for the hot, sizzling shells just off their bed of
+hickory coals banked on the kitchen hearth, and the other for the empty
+ones--the fun continuing until the wee sma' hours of the morning.
+
+The Honorable Prim and his charming daughter, not to be outdone by
+their neighbors, cleared the front drawing-room of its heavy furniture,
+covered every inch of the tufted carpet with linen crash, and with old
+black Jones as fiddler and M. Robinette--a French exile--as instructor
+in the cutting of pigeon wings and the proper turning out of ankles and
+toes, opened the first of a series of morning soirees for the young folk
+of the neighborhood, to which were invited not only their mothers, but
+their black mammies as well.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Richard Horn, not having any blithesome daughter, nor any
+full-grown son--Oliver being but a child of six--and Richard and his
+charming wife having long since given up their dancing-slippers--were
+good enough to announce--(and it was astonishing what an excitement it
+raised)--that "On the Monday night following Mr. Horn would read aloud,
+to such of his friends as would do him the honor of being present, the
+latest Christmas story by Mr. Charles Dickens, entitled 'The Cricket on
+the Hearth.'" For this occasion Mr. Kennedy had loaned him his own
+copy, one of the earliest bound volumes, bearing on its fly-leaf an
+inscription in the great master's own handwriting in which he thanked
+the distinguished author of "Swallow Barn" for the many kindnesses he
+had shown him during his visit to America, and begged his indulgence for
+his third attempt to express between covers the sentiment and feeling of
+the Christmas season.
+
+Not that this was an unusual form of entertainment, nor one that excited
+special comment. Almost every neighborhood had its morning (and often
+its evening) "Readings," presided over by some one who read well and
+without fatigue--some sweet old maid, perhaps, who knew how to grow old
+gracefully. At these times a table would be rolled into the library by
+the deferential servant of the house, on which he would place the dear
+lady's spectacles and a book, its ivory marker showing where the last
+reading had ended--it might be Prescott's "Ferdinand and Isabella," or
+Irving's "Granada," or Thackeray's "Vanity Fair," or perhaps, Dickens's
+"Martin Chuzzlewit."
+
+At eleven o'clock the girls would begin to arrive, each one bringing her
+needle-work of some kind--worsted, or embroidery, or knitting--something
+she could manage without discomfort to herself or anybody about her, and
+when the last young lady was in her seat, the same noiseless darky would
+tiptoe in and take his place behind the old maid's chair. Then he would
+slip a stool under her absurdly small slippers and tiptoe out again,
+shutting the door behind him as quietly as if he found the dear lady
+asleep--and so the reading would begin.
+
+A reading by Richard, however, was always an event of unusual
+importance, and an invitation to be present was never declined whether
+received by letter or by word of mouth.
+
+St. George had been looking forward eagerly to the night, and when the
+shadows began to fall in his now almost bare bedroom, he sent for Todd
+to help him dress.
+
+"Have you got a shirt for me, Todd?"
+
+"Got seben oh 'em. Dey wants a li'l' trimmin' roun' de aidges, but I
+reckon we kin make 'em do--Aunt Jemima sont 'em home dis mawnin'. She's
+been a-workin' on 'em, she says. Looks ter me like a goat had a moufful
+outer dis yere sleeve, but I dassent tell er so. Lot o' dem butters
+wanderin' roun' dat Marsh market lookin' fer sumpin' to eat; lemme gib
+dem boots anudder tech."
+
+Todd skipped downstairs with the boots and St. George continued
+dressing; selecting his best and most becoming scarf; pinning down the
+lapels of his buff waistcoat; scissoring the points of his high collar,
+and with Todd's assistance working his arms between the slits in the
+silk lining of the sleeves of his blue cloth, brass-buttoned coat, which
+he finally pulled into place across his chest.
+
+And a well-dressed man he was in spite of the frayed edges of his collar
+and shirt ruffles and the shiny spots in his trousers and coat where
+the nap was worn smooth, nor was there any man of his age who wore his
+clothes as well, no matter what their condition, or one who made so
+debonair an appearance.
+
+Pawson was of that opinion to-night when St. George, his toilet
+complete, joined him at the bottom of the stairs. Indeed he thought he
+had never seen his client look better--a discovery which sent a spasm of
+satisfaction through his long body, for he had a piece of important news
+to tell him, and had been trying all day to make up his mind how best to
+break it.
+
+"You look younger, Mr. Temple," he began, "and, if you will allow me to
+say so, handsomer, every day. Your trip to the Eastern Shore last spring
+did you no end of good," and the young attorney crooked his long neck
+and elevated his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth in the effort to
+give to his sinuous body a semblance of mirth.
+
+"Thank you, Pawson," bowed St. George, graciously. "You are really
+most kind, but that is because you are stone blind. My shirt is full of
+holes, and it is quite likely I shall have to stand all the evening
+for fear of splitting the knees of my breeches. Come--out with it"--he
+laughed--"there is something you have to tell me or you would not be
+waiting for me here at this hour in the cold hall."
+
+Pawson smiled faintly, then his eyebrows lost their identity in some
+well-defined wrinkles in his forehead.
+
+"I have, sir, a most unpleasant thing to tell you--a very unpleasant
+thing. When I tried this morning for a few days' grace on that last
+overdue payment, the agent informed me, to my great surprise, that Mr.
+John Gorsuch had bought the mortgage and would thereafter collect the
+interest in person. I am not sure, of course, but I am afraid Colonel
+Rutter is behind the purchase. If he is we must be prepared to face the
+worst should he still feel toward you as he did when you and he"--and he
+jerked his thumb meaningly in the direction of the dining-room--"had it
+out--in there."
+
+St. George compressed his lips. "And so Rutter holds the big end of the
+whip after all, does he?" he exclaimed with some heat. "He will find the
+skin on my back not a very valuable asset, but he is welcome to it. He
+has about everything else."
+
+"But I'd rather pay it somehow if we could," rejoined Pawson in a
+furtive way--as if he had something up his sleeve he dare not spring
+upon him.
+
+"Yes--of course you would," retorted St. George with a cynical laugh,
+slipping on his gloves. "Pay it?--of course pay it. Pay everything and
+everybody! What do you think I'd bring at auction, Pawson? I'm white,
+you know, and so I can't be sold on the block--but the doctors might
+offer you a trifle for cutting-up purposes. Bah! Hand me my coat, Todd."
+
+A deprecatory smile flitted across the long, thin face of the attorney.
+He saw that St. George was in no mood for serious things, and yet
+something must be done; certainly before the arrival of Gorsuch himself,
+who was known to be an exact man of business and who would have his
+rights, no matter who suffered.
+
+"I had a little plan, sir--but you might not fall in with it. It would,
+perhaps, be only temporary, but it is all I can think of. I had an
+applicant this morning--in fact it came within an hour after I had heard
+the news. It seemed almost providential, sir."
+
+St. George was facing the door, ready to leave the house, his shoulders
+still bent forward so that Todd could adjust his heavy cloak the better,
+when for the first time the anxious tone in Pawson's voice caught his
+attention. As the words fell from the attorney's lips he straightened,
+and Todd stepped back, the garment still in the darky's hands.
+
+"An applicant for what?" he inquired in a graver tone. He was not
+surprised--nothing surprised him in these days--he was only curious.
+
+"For the rooms you occupy. I can get enough for them, sir, not only to
+clear up the back interest, but to keep the mortgage alive and--"
+
+St. George's face paled as the full meaning of Pawson's proposal dawned
+in his mind. That was the last thing he had expected.
+
+"Turn me into the street, eh?" There was a note of pained surprise in
+his voice.
+
+"I don't want you to put it that way, sir." His heart really bled for
+him--it was all he could do to control himself.
+
+"How the devil else can I put it?"
+
+"Well, I thought you might want to do a little shooting, sir."
+
+"Shooting! What with? One of Gadgem's guns? Hire it of him, eh, and
+steal the powder and shot!" he cried savagely.
+
+"Yes--if you saw fit, sir. Gadgem, I am sure, would be most willing, and
+you can always get plenty of ammunition. Anyway, you might pass a few
+months with your kinsfolk on the Eastern Shore, whether you hunted or
+not; it did you so much good before. The winter here is always wearing,
+sloppy and wet. I've heard you say so repeatedly." He had not taken his
+eyes from his face; he knew this was St. George's final stage, and he
+knew too that he would never again enter the home he loved; but this
+last he could not tell him outright. He would rather have cut his right
+hand off than tell him at all. Being even the humblest instrument in the
+exiling of a man like St. George Wilmot Temple was in itself a torture.
+
+"And when do you want me to quit?" he said calmly. "I suppose I can
+evacuate like an officer and a gentleman and carry my side-arms with
+me--my father's cane, for instance, that I can neither sell nor pawn,
+and a case of razors which are past sharpening?" and his smile broadened
+as the humor of the thing stole over him.
+
+"Well, sir, it ought to be done," continued Pawson in his most serious
+tone, ignoring the sacrifice--(there was nothing funny in the situation
+to the attorney)--"well--I should say--right away. To-morrow, perhaps.
+This news of Gorsuch has come very sudden, you know. If I can show him
+that the new tenant has moved in already he might wait until his first
+month's rent was paid. You see that--"
+
+"Oh, yes, Pawson, I see--see it all clear as day," interrupted St.
+George--"have been seeing it for some months past, although neither
+you nor Gadgem seem to have been aware of that fact." This came with so
+grave a tone that Pawson raised his eyes inquiringly. "And who is this
+man," Temple went on, "who wants to step into my shoes? Be sure you
+tell him they are half-soled," and he held up one boot. He might want
+to dance or hunt in them--and his toes would be out the first thing he
+knew."
+
+"He is Mr. Gorsuch's attorney, sir, a Mr. Fogbin," Pawson answered,
+omitting any reference to the boots and still concerned over the gravity
+of the situation. "He did some work once for Colonel Rutter, and that's
+how Gorsuch got hold of him. That's why I suspect the colonel. This
+would make the interest sure, you see--rather a sly game, is it not,
+sir? One I did not expect."
+
+St. George pondered for a moment, and his eye fell on his servant.
+
+"And what will I do with Todd?"
+
+The darky's eyes had been rolling round in his head as the talk
+continued, Pawson, knowing how leaky he was, having told him nothing of
+the impending calamity for fear he would break it to his master in the
+wrong way.
+
+"I should say take him with you," came the positive answer.
+
+"Take him with me! You didn't think I would be separated from him, did
+you?" cried St. George, indignantly, the first note of positive anger he
+had yet shown.
+
+"I didn't think anything about it, sir," and he looked at Todd
+apologetically.
+
+"Well, after this please remember, Mr. Pawson, that where I go Todd
+goes."
+
+The darky leaned forward as if to seize St. George's hand; his eyes
+filled and his lips began to tremble. He would rather have died than
+have left his master.
+
+St. George walked to the door, threw it open, and stood for an instant,
+his eyes fixed on the bare trees in the park. He turned and faced the
+two again:
+
+"Todd!"
+
+"Yes, Marse George--" Two hot ragged tears still lingered on the darky's
+eyelids.
+
+"To-day is Monday, is it not?--and to-morrow is boat day?"
+
+"Yes, Marse George," came the trembling answer.
+
+"All right, Pawson, I'll go. Let Talbot Rutter have the rest--he's
+welcome to it. Now for my cloak, Todd--so--and my neckerchief and cane.
+Thank you very much, Pawson. You have been very kind about it all, and
+I know quite well what it has cost you to tell me this. You can't
+help--neither can I--neither, for that matter, can Gorsuch--nor is
+it his fault. It is Rutter's, and he will one day get his reckoning.
+Good-night--don't sit up too late. I am going to Mr. Horn's to spend
+the evening. Walk along with me through the Park, Todd, so I can talk
+to you. And, Todd," he continued when they had entered the path and were
+bending their steps to the Horn house, "I want you to gather together
+to-morrow what are left of my clothes and pack them in one of those
+hair trunks upstairs--and your own things in another. Never mind about
+waiting for the wash. I'm going down to Aunt Jemima's myself in the
+morning and will fix it so she can send the rest to me later on. I owe
+her a small balance and must see her once more before I leave. Now go
+home and get to bed; you have been losing too much sleep of late."
+
+And yet he was not cast down, nor did his courage fail him. Long before
+the darky's obedient figure had disappeared his natural buoyancy had
+again asserted itself--or perhaps the philosophy which always sustains a
+true gentleman in his hour of need had come to his assistance. He fully
+realized what this last cowardly blow meant. One after another his
+several belongings had vanished: his priceless family heirlooms; his
+dogs; and now the home of his ancestors. He was even denied further
+shelter within its walls. But there were no regrets; his conscience
+still sustained him; he would live it all over again. In his
+determination to keep to his standards he had tried to stop a freshet
+with a shovelful of clay; that was all. It was a foolhardy attempt, no
+doubt, but he would have been heartily ashamed of himself if he had not
+made the effort. Wesley, of course, was not a very exciting place
+in which to spend the winter, but it was better than being under
+obligations to Talbot Rutter; and then he could doubtless earn enough at
+the law to pay his board--at least he would try.
+
+He had reached the end of the walk and had already caught the glow of
+the overhead lantern in the hall of the Horn mansion lighting up the
+varied costumes of the guests as Malachi swung back the front door,
+revealing the girls in their pink and white nubias, the gallants in long
+cloaks with scarlet linings, the older men in mufflers, and the mothers
+and grandmothers in silk hoods. There was no question of Richard's
+popularity.
+
+"Clar to goodness, Marse George, you is a sight for sore eyes," cried
+Malachi, unhooking the clasp of the velvet collar and helping him off
+with his cloak. "I ain't never seen ye looking spryer! Yes, sah, Marse
+Richard's inside and he'll be mighty glad ye come. Yes--jedge--jes's
+soon as I--Dat's it, mistis--I'll take dat shawl--No, sah, Marse Richard
+ain't begun yit. Dis way, ladies," and so it had gone on since the
+opening rat-a-tat-tat on the old brass knocker had announced the arrival
+of the first guest.
+
+Nor was there any question that everybody who could by any possibility
+have availed themselves of Richard's invitation had put in an
+appearance. Most of the men from the club known to these pages were
+present, together with their wives and children--those who were old
+enough to sit up late; and Nathan Gill, without his flute this time, but
+with ears wide open--he was beginning to get gray, was Nathan, although
+he wouldn't admit it; and Miss Virginia Clendenning in high waist and
+voluminous skirts, fluffy side curls, and a new gold chain for her
+eyeglasses--gold rims, too, of course--not to mention the Murdochs,
+Stirlings, Gatchells, Captain Warfield and his daughter, Bowdoin, and
+Purviance. They were all there; everybody, in fact, who could squeeze
+inside the drawing-room; while those who couldn't filled the hall and
+even the stairs--wherever Richard's voice could be heard.
+
+St. George edged into the packed room, swept his glance over the throng,
+and made his way through the laughing groups, greeting every one right
+and left, old and young, as he moved--a kiss here on the upturned cheek
+of some pretty girl whom he had carried in his arms when a baby; a
+caressing pat of approbation on some young gallant's shoulder; a bend
+of the head in respectful homage to those he knew but slightly--the
+Baroness de Trobiand, Mrs. Cheston's friend, being one of them; a hearty
+hand held out to the men who had been away for the summer--interrupted
+now and then by some such sally from a young bride as--"Oh, you mean
+Uncle George! No--I'm not going to love you any more! You promised you
+would come to my party and you didn't, and my cotillon was all spoiled!"
+or a--"Why, Temple, you dear man!-I'm so glad to see you! Don't forget
+my dinner on Thursday. The Secretary is coming and I want you to
+sit between him and Lord Atherton"--a sort of triumphal procession,
+really--until he reached the end of the room and stood at Kate's side.
+
+"Well, sweetheart!" he cried gayly, caressing her soft hand before his
+fingers closed over it. Then his face hardened. "Ah, Mr. Willits! So
+you, too, must come under the spell of Mr. Horn's voice," and without
+waiting for a reply continued as if nothing had interrupted the joy of
+his greeting. "You should sit down somewhere, my dear Kate--get as near
+to Richard as you can, so you can watch his face--that's the best part
+of it. And I should advise you, too, Mr. Willits, to miss none of his
+words--it will be something you will remember all your life."
+
+Kate looked up in his face with a satisfied smile. She was more than
+glad that her Uncle George was so gracious to her escort, especially
+to-night when he was to meet a good many people for the first time.
+
+"I'll take the stool, then, dear Uncle George," she answered with a
+merry laugh. "Go get it, please, Mr. Willits--the one under the sofa."
+Then, with a toss of her head and a coquettish smile at St. George:
+"What a gadabout you are; do you know I've been three times to see
+you, and not a soul in your house and the front door wide open, and
+everything done up in curl papers as if you were going to move away for
+good and all and never coming back? And do you know that you haven't
+been near me for a whole week? What do you mean by breaking my heart?
+Thank you, Mr. Willits; put the stool right here, so I can look up
+into Mr. Horn's eyes as Uncle George wants me to. I've known the
+time, sir"--and she arched her brows at St. George--"when you would
+be delighted to have me look my prettiest at you, but now before I am
+halfway across the park you slip out of the basement door to avoid me
+and--No!--no--no apologies--you are just tired of me!"
+
+St. George laughed gayly in return, his palms flattened against each
+other and held out in supplication; but he made no defence. He was
+studying the couple, his mind on the bearing and manner of the young
+man toward the woman he was pursuing so relentlessly. He saw that he had
+completely regained his health, his clear eyes and ruddy skin and the
+spring with which he moved denoting a man in perfect physical condition.
+He discovered, too, that he was extremely well dressed and his costume
+all that it should be--especially the plum-colored coat, which fitted
+his shoulders to perfection; his linen of the whitest and finest, each
+ruffle in flutes; the waist-coat embroidered in silk; the pumps of
+the proper shape and the stockings all that could be desired--except
+perhaps--and a grim smile crossed his face--that the silk scarf was a
+shade out of key with the prevailing color of his make-up, particularly
+his hair; but, then, that was to be expected of a man who had a slight
+flaw in his ancestry. He wondered if she had noticed it and studied her
+face for an answer. No! She had not noticed it. In fact there were very
+many things she was overlooking in these last days of his wooing, he
+thought to himself.
+
+Suddenly he became occupied with Kate's beauty. He thought he had never
+seen her so bewitching or in such good spirits. From his six feet and
+an inch of vantage his eyes followed her sloping shoulders and tapering
+arms and rested on her laughing, happy face--rose-colored in the soft
+light of the candles--a film of lace looped at her elbows, her wonderful
+hair caught in a coil at the back: not the prevailing fashion but one
+most becoming to her. What had not this admixture of Scotch and Virginia
+blood--this intermingling of robust independence with the gentle,
+yielding feminine qualities of the Southern-born woman--done for this
+girl?
+
+Richard clapped his hands to attract attention, and advancing a step in
+front of the big easy-chair which Malachi had just pulled out for him,
+raised his fingers to command silence.
+
+All eyes were instantly turned his way. Alert and magnetic, dignified
+and charming, he stood in the full glow of the overhead chandelier,
+its light falling upon his snuff-brown coat with its brass buttons,
+pale-yellow waistcoat, and the fluff of white silk about his throat--his
+grave, thoughtful face turned toward Kate as his nearest guest, his
+glance sweeping the crowded room as if to be sure that everybody was
+at ease; Malachi close behind awaiting his master's orders to further
+adjust the chair and reading-lamp.
+
+In the interim of the hush Kate had settled herself at Richard's feet
+on the low stool that Willits had brought, the young man standing behind
+her, the two making a picture that attracted general attention; some
+wondering at her choice, while others were outspoken in their admiration
+of the pair who seemed so wonderfully suited to each other.
+
+"I have a rare story," Richard began "to read to you to-night, my good
+friends, one you will never forget; one, indeed, which I am sure the
+world at large will never forget. I shall read it as best I can, begging
+your indulgence especially in rendering the dialect parts, which, if
+badly done, often mar both the pathos and humor of the text." Here he
+settled himself in his chair and picked up the small volume, Malachi,
+now that his service was over, tiptoeing out to his place in the hall so
+as to be ready for belated arrivals.
+
+The room grew silent. Even Mrs. Cheston, who rarely ceased talking
+when she had anything to say--and she generally did have something to
+say--folded her hands in her lap and settled herself in her arm-chair,
+her whole attention fastened on the reader. St. George, who had been
+talking to her, moved up a chair so he could watch Kate's face the
+better.
+
+Again Richard raised his voice:
+
+"The time is of the present, and the scene is laid in one of those small
+towns outside London. I shall read the whole story, omitting no word of
+the text, for only then will you fully grasp the beauty of the author's
+style."
+
+He began in low, clear tones reciting the contest between the hum of
+the kettle and the chirp of the cricket; the music of his voice
+lending added charm to the dual song. Then there followed in constantly
+increasing intensity the happy home life of bewitching Dot Perrybingle
+and her matter-of-fact husband, John the Carrier, with sleepy Tilly
+Slowboy and the Baby to fill out the picture; the gradual unfolding of
+the events that led up to the cruel marriage about to take place between
+old Tackleton, the mean toy merchant, and sweet May Fielding, in love
+with the sailor boy, Edward, lost at sea; the finding of the mysterious
+deaf old man by John the Carrier, and the bringing him home in his cart
+to Dot, who kept him all night because his friends had not called for
+him; the rapid growth of a love affair between Dot and this old man, who
+turned out to be a handsome young fellow; the heart-rending discovery by
+John, through the spying of Tackleton, that Dot was untrue to him,
+she meeting the man clandestinely and adjusting the disguise for him,
+laughing all the while at the ruse she was helping him to play; the
+grief of John when he realized the truth, he sitting all night alone by
+the fire trying to make up his mind whether he would creep upstairs
+and murder the villain who had stolen the heart of his little Dot, or
+forgive her because he was so much older than she and it was, therefore,
+natural for her to love a younger man; and finally the preparations at
+the church, where Tackleton was to wed the beautiful May Fielding, who,
+broken-hearted over the death of her sailor boy, had at last succumbed
+to her mother's wishes and consented to join Tackleton at the altar.
+
+For an hour Richard's well-modulated, full-toned voice rolled on, the
+circle drawing closer and closer with their ears and hearts, as the
+characters, one after another, became real and alive under the
+reader's magical rendering. Dot Perrybingle's cheery, laughing
+accents; Tackleton's sharp, rasping tones; John the Carrier's simple,
+straightforward utterances and the soft, timid cadence of old Caleb, the
+toy maker--(drowned Edward's father)--and his blind daughter Bertha were
+recognized as soon as the reader voiced their speech. So thrilling was
+the story of their several joys and sorrows that Kate, unconscious of
+her surroundings, had slipped from her low stool, and with the weight of
+her body resting on her knees, sat searching Richard's face, the better
+to catch every word that fell from his lips.
+
+To heighten the effect of what was the most dramatic part of the
+story--the return of the wedding party to the Carrier's house, where
+Dot, Caleb, and his blind daughter awaited them--Richard paused for a
+moment as if to rest his voice--the room the while deathly still, the
+loosening of a pent-up breath now and then showing how tense was the
+emotion. Then he went on:
+
+"Are those wheels upon the road, Bertha?", cried Dot. "You've a quick
+ear, Bertha--And now you hear them stopping at the garden gate! And now
+you hear a step outside the door--the same step, Bertha, is it not--And
+now--"
+
+Dot uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight, and running up to
+Caleb put her hand upon his eyes, as a young man rushed into the room,
+and, flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping down upon them.
+
+"Is it over?" cried Dot.
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Happily over?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you ever hear the like of
+it before?" cried Dot.
+
+"If my boy Edward in the Golden South Americas was alive--" cried Caleb,
+trembling.
+
+"He is alive!" shrieked Dot, removing her hands from his eyes and
+clapping them in ecstasy; "look at him! See where he stands before you,
+healthy and strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear, living, loving
+brother, Bertha!"
+
+All honor to the little creature for her transports! All honor to her
+tears and laughter, when the three were locked in one another's
+arms! All honor to the heartiness with which she met the sunburnt,
+sailor-fellow, with his dark, streaming hair, halfway, and never turned
+her rosy little mouth aside, but suffered him to kiss it freely, and to
+press her to his bounding heart!
+
+"Now tell him (John) all, Edward," sobbed Dot, "and don't spare me, for
+nothing shall make me spare myself in his eyes ever again."
+
+"I was the man," said Edward.
+
+"And you could steal disguised into the home of your old friend,"
+rejoined the carrier...
+
+"But I had a passion for her."
+
+"You!"
+
+"I had," rejoined the other, "and she returned it--I heard twenty miles
+away that she was false to me--I had no mind to reproach her but to see
+for myself."
+
+Once more Richard's voice faltered, and again it rang clear, this time
+in Dot's tones:
+
+"But when she knew that Edward was alive, John, and had come back--and
+when she--that's me, John--told him all--and how his sweetheart had
+believed him to be dead, and how she had been over-persuaded by her
+mother into a marriage--and when she--that's me again, John--told him
+they were not married, though close upon it--and when he went nearly
+mad for joy to hear it--then she--that's me again--said she would go
+and sound his sweetheart--and she did--and they were married an hour
+ago!--John, an hour ago! And here's the bride! And Gruff and Tackleton
+may die a bachelor! And I'm a happy little woman, May, God bless you!"
+
+Little woman, how she sobbed! John Perrybingle would have caught her in
+his arms. But no; she wouldn't let him.
+
+"Don't love me yet, please, John! Not for a long time yet! No--keep
+there, please, John! When I laugh at you, as I sometimes do, John, and
+call you clumsy, and a dear old goose, and names of that sort, it's
+because I love you, John, so well. And when I speak of people being
+middle-aged and steady, John, and pretend that we are a humdrum couple,
+going on in a jog-trot sort of way, it's only because I'm such a silly
+little thing, John, that I like, sometimes, to act a kind of play with
+Baby, and all that, and make believe."
+
+She saw that he was coming, and stopped him again. But she was very
+nearly too late.
+
+"No, don't love me for another minute or two, if you please, John! When
+I first came home here I was half afraid I mighn't learn to love you
+every bit as well as I hoped and prayed I might--being so very young,
+John. But, dear John, every day and hour I love you more and more. And
+if I could have loved you better than I do, the noble words I heard you
+say this morning would have made me. But I can't. All the affection that
+I had (it was a great deal, John) I gave you, as you well deserve, long,
+long ago, and I have no more left to give. Now, my dear husband, take
+me to your heart again! That's my home, John; and never, never think of
+sending me to any other."
+
+Richard Stopped and picking up a glass from the table moistened his
+lips. The silence continued. Down more than one face the tears were
+trickling, as they have trickled down millions of faces since. Kate had
+crept imperceptibly nearer until her hands could have touched Richard's
+knees. When Willits bent over her with a whispered comment a slight
+shiver ran through her, but she neither answered nor turned her head. It
+was only when Richard's voice finally ceased with the loud chirp of the
+cricket at the close of the beloved story, and St. George had helped her
+to her feet, that she seemed to awake to a sense of where she was. Even
+then she looked about her in a dazed way, as if she feared some one had
+been probing her heart--hanging back till the others had showered their
+congratulations on the reader. Then leaning forward she placed her hands
+in Richard's as if to steady herself, and with a sigh that seemed to
+come from the depths of her nature bent her head and kissed him softly
+on the cheek.
+
+When the eggnog was being served and the guests were broken up into
+knots and groups, all discussing the beauty of the reading, she suddenly
+left Willits, who had followed her every move as if he had a prior right
+to her person, and going up to St. George, led him out of the room to
+one of the sofas in Richard's study, her lips quivering, the undried
+tears still trembling on her eyelids. She did not release his hand as
+they took their seats. Her fingers closed only the tighter, as if she
+feared he would slip from her grasp.
+
+"It was all so beautiful and so terrible, Uncle George," she moaned at
+last--"and all so true. Such awful mistakes are made and then it is too
+late. And nobody understands--nobody--nobody!" She paused, as if the
+mere utterance pained her, and then to St. George's amazement asked
+abruptly "Is there nothing yet from Harry?"
+
+St. George looked at her keenly, wondering whether he had caught the
+words aright. It had been months since Harry's name had crossed her
+lips.
+
+"No, nothing," he answered simply, trying to fathom her purpose and
+completely at sea as to her real motive--"not for some months. Not since
+he left the ship."
+
+"And do you think he is in any danger?" She had released his hand, and
+with her fingers resting on the sleeve of his coat sat looking into his
+eyes as if to read their meaning.
+
+"I don't know," he replied in a non-committal tone, still trying to
+understand her purpose. "He meant then to go to the mountains, so he
+wrote his mother. This may account for our not hearing. Why do you ask?
+Have you had any news of him yourself?" he added, studying her face for
+some solution of her strange attitude.
+
+She sank back on the cushions. "No, he never writes to me." Then, as
+if some new train of thought had forced its way into her mind, she
+exclaimed suddenly: "What mountains?"
+
+"Some range back of Rio, if I remember rightly. He said he--"
+
+"Rio! But there is yellow fever at Rio!" she cried, with a start as she
+sat erect in her seat, the pupils of her eyes grown to twice their size.
+"Father lost half of one of his crews at Rio. He heard so to-day. It
+would be dreadful for--for--his mother--if anything should happen to
+him."
+
+Again St. George scrutinized her face, trying to probe deep down in her
+heart. Had she, after all, some affection left for this boy lover--and
+her future husband within hearing distance! No! This was not his
+Kate--he understood it all now. It was the spell of the story that still
+held her. Richard's voice had upset her, as it had done half the room.
+
+"Yes, it is dreadful for everybody," he added. And then, in a
+perfunctory manner, as being perhaps the best way to lead the
+conversation into other channels, added: "And the suspense will be worse
+now--for me at any rate--for I, too, am going away where letters reach
+me but seldom."
+
+Her hand closed convulsively over his.
+
+"You going away! YOU!" she cried in a half-frightened tone. "Oh, please
+don't, Uncle George! Oh!--I don't want you away from me! Why must you
+go? Oh, no! Not now--not now!"
+
+Her distress was so marked and her voice so pleading that he was about
+to tell her the whole story, even to that of the shifts he had been put
+to to get food for himself and Todd, when he caught sight of Willits
+making his way through the throng to where they sat. His lips closed
+tight. This man would always be a barrier between him and the girl he
+had loved ever since her babyhood.
+
+"Well, my dear Kate," he replied calmly, his eyes still on Willits, who
+in approaching from the other room had been detained by a guest, "you
+see I must go. Mr. Pawson wants me out of the way while he fixes up some
+of my accounts, and so he suggested that I go back to Wesley for a few
+months." He paused for an instant and, still keeping his eye on Willets,
+added: "And now one thing more, my dear Kate, before your escort claims
+you"--here his voice sank to a whisper--"promise me that if Harry writes
+to you you will send him a kind, friendly letter in return. It can do
+you no harm now, nor would Harry misunderstand it--your wedding is so
+near. A letter would greatly cheer him in his loneliness."
+
+"But he won't write!" she exclaimed with some bitterness--she had
+not yet noticed Willits's approach--"he'll never write or speak to me
+again."
+
+"But you will if he does?" pleaded St. George, the thought of his boy's
+loneliness overmastering every other feeling.
+
+"But he won't, I tell you--never--NEVER!"
+
+"But if he should, my child? If--"
+
+He stopped and raised his head. Willits stood gazing down at them,
+searching St. George's face, as if to learn the meaning of the
+conference: he knew that he did not favor his suit.
+
+Kate looked up and her face flushed.
+
+"Yes--in one minute, Mr. Willits," and without a word of any kind to
+St. George she rose from the sofa and with her arm in Willits's left the
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+
+One winter evening some weeks after St. George's departure, Pawson sat
+before a smouldering fire in Temple's front room, reading by the
+light of a low lamp. He had rearranged the furniture--what was left of
+it--both in this and the adjoining room, in the expectation that Fogbin
+(Gorsuch's attorney) would move in, but so far he had not appeared, nor
+had any word come from either Gorsuch or Colonel Rutter; nor had any
+one either written or called upon him in regard to the overdue payment;
+neither had any legal papers been served.
+
+This prolonged and ominous silence disturbed him; so much so that he had
+made it a point to be as much in his office as possible should his enemy
+spring any unexpected trap.
+
+It was, therefore, with some misgivings that he answered a quick,
+impatient rap on his front door at the unusual hour of ten o'clock. If
+it were Fogbin he had everything ready for his comfort; if it were any
+one else he would meet him as best he could: no legal papers, at any
+rate, could be served at that hour.
+
+He swung back the door and a full-bearded, tightly-knit, well-built man
+in rough clothes stepped in. In the dim light of the overhead lamp he
+caught the flash of a pair of determined eyes set in a strong, forceful
+face.
+
+"I want Mr. Temple," said the man, who had now removed his cap and stood
+looking about him, as if making an inventory of the scanty furniture.
+
+"He is not here," replied Pawson, rummaging the intruder's face for some
+clew to his identity and purpose in calling at so late an hour.
+
+"Are you sure?" There was doubt as well as marked surprise in the man's
+tone. He evidently did not believe a word of the statement.
+
+"Very sure," rejoined the attorney in a more positive tone, his eyes
+still on the stranger. "He left town some weeks ago."
+
+The intruder turned sharply, and with a brisk inquisitive movement
+strode past him and pushed open the dining-room door. There he stood
+for a moment, his eyes roaming over the meagre appointments of the
+interior--the sideboard, bare of everything but a pitcher and some
+tumblers--the old mahogany table littered with law books and papers--the
+mantel stripped of its clock and candelabras. Then he stepped inside,
+and without explanation of any kind, crossed the room, opened the door
+of St. George's bedroom, and swept a comprehensive glance around the
+despoiled interior. Once he stopped and peered into the gloom as if
+expecting to find the object of his search concealed in its shadows.
+
+"What has happened here?" he demanded in a voice which plainly showed
+his disappointment.
+
+"Do you mean what has become of the rest of the furniture?" asked the
+attorney in reply, gaining time to decide upon his course.
+
+"Yes, who is responsible for this business?" he exclaimed angrily. "Has
+it been done during his absence?"
+
+Pawson hesitated. That the intruder was one of Gorsuch's men, and that
+he had been sent in advance on an errand of investigation, was no
+longer to be doubted. He, however, did not want to add any fuel to his
+increasing heat, so he answered simply:
+
+"Mr. Temple got caught in the Patapsco failure and it went pretty hard
+with him, and so what he didn't actually need he sold."
+
+The man gave a start, his features hardening; but whether of surprise or
+dissatisfaction Pawson could not tell.
+
+"And when it was all gone he went away--is that what you mean?" This
+came in a softened tone.
+
+"Yes--that seems to be the size of it. I suppose you come
+about--some"--again he hesitated, not knowing exactly where the man
+stood--"about some money due you?--Am I right?"
+
+"No, I came to see Mr. Temple, and I must see him, and at once. How long
+will he be gone?"
+
+"All winter--perhaps longer." The attorney had begun to breathe again.
+The situation might not be as serious as he had supposed. If he wanted
+to see Mr. Temple himself, and no one else would do, there was still
+chance of delay in the wiping out of the property.
+
+Again the man's eyes roamed over the room, the bareness of which seemed
+still to impress him. Then he asked simply: "Where will a letter reach
+him?"
+
+"I can't say exactly. I thought he had gone to Virginia--but he doesn't
+answer any of my communications."
+
+A look of suspicion crept into the intruder's eyes.
+
+"You're not trying to deceive me, are you? It is very important that I
+should see Mr. Temple, and at once." Then his manner altered. "You've
+forgotten me, Mr. Pawson, but I have not forgotten you--my name is
+Rutter. I lived here with Mr. Temple before I went to sea, three years
+ago. I am just home--I left the ship an hour ago. I'll sit down if you
+don't mind--I've still got my sea-legs on and am a little wobbly."
+
+Pawson twisted his thin body and bent his neck, his eyes glued to the
+speaker's face. There was not a trace of young Harry in the features.
+
+"Well, you don't look like him," he replied incredulously--"he was
+slender--not half your size, and--"
+
+"Yes--I don't blame you. I am a good deal heavier; may be too a beard
+makes some change in a man's face. But you don't really doubt me, do
+you? Have you forgotten the bills that man Gadgem brought in?--the five
+hundred dollars due Slater, and the horse Hampson sold me--the one I
+shot?" and one of his old musical laughs rose to his lips.
+
+Pawson sprang forward and seized the intruder's hand. He would recognize
+that laugh among a thousand:
+
+"Yes--I know you now! It's all come back to me," he cried joyously.
+"But you gave me a terrible start, Mr. Rutter. I thought you had come to
+clear up what was left. Oh!--but I AM glad you are back. Your uncle--you
+always called him so, I remember--your uncle has had an awful hard time
+of it--had to sell most of his things--terrible--terrible! And then,
+too, he has grieved so over you--asking me, sometimes two or three times
+a day, for letters from you--asking me questions and worrying over your
+not coming and not answering. Oh, this is fine. Now may be we can save
+the situation. You don't mind my shaking your hand again, do you? It's
+so good to know there is somebody who can help. I have been all alone so
+far except Gadgem--who has been a treasure. You remember him. Why didn't
+you let Mr. Temple know you were coming?"
+
+"I couldn't. I have been up in the mountains of Brazil, and coming home
+went ashore--got wrecked. These clothes I bought from a sailor," and he
+opened his rough jacket the wider.
+
+"Yes--that's exactly what I heard him say--that's what he thought--that
+is, that you were where you couldn't write, although I never heard him
+say anything about shipwreck. I remember his telling Mr. Willits and
+Miss Seymour that same thing the morning he left--that you couldn't
+write. They came to see him off."
+
+Harry edged his chair nearer the fireplace and propped one shoe on the
+fender as if to dry it, although the night was fair. The mention of
+Kate's and her suitor's names had sent the blood to his head and he was
+using the subterfuge in the effort to regain control of himself before
+Pawson should read all his secrets.
+
+Shifting his body he rested his head on his hand, the light of the lamp
+bringing into clearer relief his fresh, healthy skin, finely modelled
+nose, and wide brow, the brown hair, clipped close to his head, still
+holding its glossy sheen. For some seconds he did not speak: the low
+song of the fire seemed to absorb him. Now and then Pawson, who was
+watching him intently, heard him strangle a rebellious sigh, as if
+some old memory were troubling him. His hand dropped and with a quick
+movement he faced his companion again.
+
+"I have been away a long time, Mr. Pawson," he said in a thoughtful
+tone. "For three months--four now--I have had no letters from anybody.
+It was my fault partly, but let that go. I want you to answer some
+questions, and I want you to tell me the truth--all the truth. I haven't
+any use for any other kind of man--do you understand? Is my mother
+alive?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And Alec? Is he all right?"
+
+Pawson nodded.
+
+"And my uncle? Is he ruined?--so badly ruined that he is suffering? Tell
+me." There was a peculiar pathos in his tone--so much so that Pawson,
+who had been standing, settled into a chair beside him that his answers
+might, if possible, be the more intimate and sympathetic.
+
+"I'm afraid he is. The only hope is the postponement in some way of the
+foreclosure of the mortgage on this house until times get better. It
+wouldn't bring its face value to-day."
+
+Harry caught his breath: "My God!--you don't tell me so! Poor Uncle
+George--so fine and splendid--so good to everybody, and he has come to
+this! And about this mortgage--who owns it?"
+
+"Mr. Gorsuch, I understand, owns it now: he bought it of the Tyson
+estate."
+
+"You mean John Gorsuch--my father's man of business?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And was there nothing left?--no money coming in from anywhere?"
+
+Pawson shook his head: "We collected all that some time ago--it came
+from some old ground rents."
+
+"And how has he lived since?" He wanted to hear it all; he could help
+better if he knew how far down the ladder to begin.
+
+"From hand to mouth, really." And then there followed his own and
+Gadgem's efforts to keep the wolf from the door; the sale of the guns,
+saddles, and furniture; the wrench over the Castullux cup--and what
+a godsend it was that Kirk got such a good price for it--down to the
+parting with the last article that either or both of them could sell or
+pawn, including his four splendid setters.
+
+As the sad story fell from the attorney's sympathetic lips Harry would
+now and then cover his face with his hands in the effort to hide the
+tears. He knew that the ruin was now complete. He knew, too, that he had
+been the cause of it. Then his thoughts reverted to the old regime and
+its comforts: those which his uncle had shared with him so generously.
+
+"And what has become of my uncle's servants?" he asked--"his cook, Aunt
+Jemima, and his body-servant, Todd?"
+
+"I don't know what has become of the cook, but he took Todd with him."
+
+Harry heaved a sigh of relief. If Todd was with him life would still
+be made bearable for his uncle. Perhaps, after all, a winter with Tom
+Coston was the wisest thing he could have done.
+
+One other question now trembled on his lips. It was one he felt he had
+no right to ask--not of Pawson--but it was his only opportunity, and
+he must know the truth if he was to carry out the other plans he had
+in view the day he dropped everything and came home without warning. At
+last he asked casually:
+
+"Do you know whether my father returned to Uncle George the money he
+paid out for me?" Not that it was important--more as if he wanted to be
+posted on current events.
+
+"He tried, but Mr. Temple wouldn't take it. I had the matter in hand,
+and know. This was some three years ago. He has never offered it
+since--not to my knowledge."
+
+Harry's face lightened. Some trace of decency was still left in the
+Rutter blood! This money was in all honor owed by his father and might
+still become an asset if he and his uncle should ever become reconciled.
+
+"And can you tell me how they all are--out at Moorlands? Have you seen
+my father lately?"
+
+"Not your father, but I met your old servant, Alec, a few days ago."
+
+"Alec!--dear old Alec! Tell me about him. And my mother--was she all
+right? What did Alec say, and how did the old man look?"
+
+"Yes; your mother was well. He said they were all well, except Colonel
+Rutter, whose eyes troubled him. Alec seemed pretty much the same--may
+be a little older."
+
+Harry's mind began to wander. The room and his companion were forgotten.
+He was again at Moorlands, the old negro following him about, his dear
+mother sitting by his bed or kissing him goodnight.
+
+For an instant he sat gazing into the smouldering embers absorbed in
+his thoughts. Then as if some new vista had opened out before him he
+asked suddenly:
+
+"You don't know what he was doing in town, do you? Was my mother with
+him?"
+
+"No, he was alone. He had brought some things in for Mr. Seymour--some
+game or something, if I remember right. There's to be a wedding there
+soon, so I hear. Yes, now I think of it, it WAS game--some partridges,
+perhaps, your father had sent in. The old man asked about you--he always
+does. And now, Mr. Rutter, tell me about yourself--have you done well?"
+He didn't think he had, judging from his general appearance, but he
+wanted to be sure in case St. George asked him.
+
+Harry settled in his chair, his broad shoulders filling the back. The
+news of Kate's wedding was what he had expected. Perhaps it was already
+over. He was glad, however, the information had come to him unsought.
+For an instant he made no reply to Pawson's inquiry, then he answered
+slowly: "Yes, and no. I have made a little money--not much--but
+some--not enough to pay Uncle George everything I owe him--not yet;
+another time I shall do better. I was down with fever for a while and
+that cost me a good deal of what I had saved. But I HAD to come back.
+I met a man who told me Uncle George was ruined; that he had left this
+house and that somebody had put a sign on it, I thought at first that
+this must refer to you and your old arrangement in the basement, until I
+questioned him closer. I knew how careless he had always been about his
+money transactions, and was afraid some one had taken advantage of him.
+That's why I was so upset when I came in a while ago: I thought they had
+stolen his furniture as well. The ship Mohican--one of the old Barkeley
+line--was sailing the day I reached the coast and I got aboard and
+worked my passage home. I learned to do that on my way out. I learned
+to wear a beard too. Not very becoming, is it?"--and a low, forced laugh
+escaped his lips. "But shaving is not easy aboard ship or in the mines."
+
+Pawson made no reply. He had been studying his guest the closer while
+he was talking, his mind more on the man than on what he was saying.
+The old Harry, which the dim light of the hall and room had hidden, was
+slowly coming back to him:--the quick turn of the head; the way his lips
+quivered when he laughed; the exquisitely modelled nose and brow, and
+the way the hair grew on the temples. The tones of his voice, too, had
+the old musical ring. It was the same madcap, daredevil boy mellowed and
+strengthened by contact with the outside world. Next he scrutinized his
+hands, their backs bronzed and roughened by contact with the weather,
+and waited eagerly until some gesture opened the delicately turned
+fingers, exposing the white palms, and felt relieved and glad when
+he saw that they showed no rough usage. His glance rested on his
+well-turned thighs, slender waist, and broad, strong shoulders and
+arms--and then his eyes--so clear, and his skin so smooth and fresh--a
+clean soul in a clean body! What joy would be Temple's when he got his
+arms around this young fellow once more!
+
+The wanderer reached for his cap and pushed back his chair. For an
+instant he stood gazing into the smouldering coals as if he hated to
+leave their warmth, his brow clouded, his shoulders drawn back. He had
+all the information he wanted--all he had come in search of, although
+it was not exactly what he wished or what he had expected:--his uncle
+ruined and an exile; his father half blind and Kate's wedding expected
+any week. That was enough at least for one night.
+
+He stepped forward and grasped Pawson's hand, his well-knit, alert body
+in contrast to the loosely jointed, long-legged, young attorney.
+
+"I must thank you, Mr. Pawson," he said in his old outspoken, hearty way
+"for your frankness, and I must also apologize for my apparent rudeness
+when I first entered your door; but, as I told you, I was so astounded
+and angry at what I saw that I hardly knew what I was doing. And now
+one thing more before I take my leave: if Mr. Temple does not want his
+present retreat known--and I gather from the mysterious way in which you
+have spoken that he does not--let me tell you that I do not want mine
+known either. Please do not say to any one that you have seen me, or
+answer any questions--not for a time, at least. Good-night!"
+
+With the closing of the front door behind him the exile came to a
+standstill on the top step and looked about him. Across the park--beyond
+the trees, close sheltered under the wide protecting roof, lay Kate. All
+the weary miles out and back had this picture been fixed in his mind.
+She was doubtless asleep as it was now past eleven o'clock: he would
+know by the lights. But even the sight of the roof that sheltered her
+would, in itself, be a comfort. It had been many long years since he had
+breathed the same air with her; slept under the same stars; walked where
+her feet had trodden. For some seconds he stood undecided. Should he
+return to the Sailors' House where he had left his few belongings and
+banish all thoughts of her from his mind now that his worst fears had
+been confirmed? or should he yield to the strain on his heart-strings?
+If she were asleep the whole house would be dark; if she were at some
+neighbor's and Mammy Henny was sitting up for her, the windows in the
+bedroom would be dark and the hall lamp still burning--he had watched it
+so often before and knew the signs.
+
+Drawing the collar of his rough peajacket close about his throat and
+crowding his cap to his ears, he descended the steps and with one of his
+quick, decided movements plunged into the park, now silent and deserted.
+
+As he neared the Seymour house he became conscious, from the glow
+of lights gleaming between the leafless branches of the trees, that
+something out of the common was going on inside. The house was ablaze
+from the basement to the roof, with every window-shade illumined.
+Outside the steps, and as far out as the curb, lounged groups of
+attendants, while in the side street, sheltered by the ghostly trees,
+there could be made out the wheels and hoods of carryalls and the glint
+of harness. Now and then the door would open and a bevy of muffled
+figures--the men in cloaks, the girls in nubias wound about their heads
+and shoulders--would pass out. The Seymours were evidently giving a
+ball, or was it--and the blood left his face and little chills ran loose
+through his hair--was it Kate's wedding night? Pawson had said that
+a marriage would soon take place, and in the immediate future. It was
+either this or an important function of some kind, and on a much more
+lavish scale than had been old Prim's custom in the days when he knew
+him. Then the contents of Alec's basket rose in his mind. That was why
+his father had sent the pheasants! Perhaps both he and his mother were
+inside!
+
+Sick at heart he turned on his heel and with quickened pace retraced his
+steps. He would not be a spy, and he could not he an eavesdropper. As
+the thought forced itself on his mind, the fear that he might meet some
+one whom he would know, or who would know him, overtook him. So great
+was his anxiety that it was only when he had left the park far behind
+him on his way back to the Sailors' House, that he regained his
+composure. He was prepared to face the truth, and all of it whatever it
+held in store for him; but he must first confront his father and learn
+just how he stood with him; then he would see his mother and Alec, and
+then he would find St. George: Kate must come last.
+
+The news that his father had offered to pay his debts--although he
+did not intend that that should relieve him in any way of his own
+responsibility to his uncle--kindled fresh hopes in his heart and buoyed
+him up. Now that his father had tried repeatedly to repair the wrong he
+had done it might only be necessary to throw himself on his knees before
+him and be taken back into his heart and arms. To see him, then, was his
+first duty and this he would begin to carry out in the morning. As to
+his meeting his mother and Alec--should he fail with his father--that
+must be undertaken with more care, for he could not place himself in the
+position of sneaking home and using the joy his return would bring them
+as a means to soften his father's heart. Yes, he would find his father
+first, then his mother and Alec. If his father received him the others
+would follow. If he was repulsed, he must seek out some other way.
+
+This over he would find St. George. He knew exactly where his uncle
+was, although he had not said so to Pawson. He was not at Coston's, nor
+anywhere in the vicinity of Wesley, but at Craddock, on the bay--a small
+country house some miles distant, where he and his dogs had often spent
+days and weeks during the ducking season. St. George had settled down
+there to rest and get away from his troubles; that was why he had not
+answered Pawson's letters.
+
+Striding along with his alert, springing step, he swung through the
+deserted and unguarded Marsh Market, picked his way between the piles of
+produce and market carts, and plunging down a narrow street leading to
+the wharf, halted before a door over which swung a lantern burning a
+green light. Here he entered.
+
+Although it was now near midnight, there were still eight or ten
+seafaring men in the room--several of them members of his own crew
+aboard the Mohican. Two were playing checkers, the others crowded about
+a square table where a game of cards was in progress; wavy lines of
+tobacco smoke floated beneath the dingy ceiling; at one end was a
+small bar where a man in a woollen shirt was filling some short, thick
+tumblers from an earthen jug. It was the ordinary sailors' retreat where
+the men put up before, between, and after their voyages.
+
+One of them at the card-table looked up from his game as Harry entered,
+and called out:
+
+"Man been lookin' for you--comin' back, he says. My trick! Hearts,
+wasn't it?" (this to his companions).
+
+"Do I know him?" asked Harry with a slight start, pausing on his way
+to his bedroom upstairs, where he had left his bag of clothes two hours
+before. Could he have been recognized and shadowed?
+
+"No--don't think so; he's a street vendor. Got some China silks to
+sell--carries his pack on his back and looks as if he'd took up a extry
+'ole in his belt. Hungry, I wouldn't wonder. Wanted to h'ist 'em fur
+a glass o' grog an' a night's lodgin', but Cap wouldn't let him--said
+you'd be back and might help him. Wasn't that it, Cap?"--this to the
+landlord, who nodded in reply.
+
+"How could _I_ help him?" asked Harry, selecting a tallow dip from a row
+on a shelf, but in a tone that implied his own doubt in the query, as
+well as his relief, now that the man was really a stranger.
+
+"Well, this is your port, so I 'ear. Some o' them high-flyers up 'round
+the park might lend a hand, may be, if you'd tip 'em a wink, or some o'
+their women folks might take a shine to 'em."
+
+"Looked hungry, did you say?" Harry asked, lighting the dip at an oil
+lamp that swung near the bar.
+
+"Yes--holler's a drum--see straight through him; tired too--beat out.
+You'd think so if you see him. My play--clubs."
+
+Harry turned to the landlord: "If this man comes in again give him
+food and lodging," and he handed him a bank bill. "If he is here in the
+morning let me see him. I'm going to bed now. Good-night, men!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+
+Should I lapse into the easy-flowing style of the chroniclers of
+the period of which I write--(and how often has the scribe wished he
+could)--this chapter would open with the announcement that on this
+particularly bleak, wintry afternoon a gentleman in the equestrian
+costume of the day, and mounted upon a well-groomed, high-spirited white
+horse, might have been seen galloping rapidly up a country lane leading
+to an old-fashioned manor house.
+
+Such, however, would not cover the facts. While the afternoon was
+certainly wintry, and while the rider was unquestionably a gentleman, he
+was by no manner of means attired in velveteen coat and russet-leather
+boots with silver spurs, his saddle-bags strapped on behind, but in
+a rough and badly worn sailor's suit, his free hand grasping a bundle
+carried loose on his pommel. As to the horse neither the immortal James
+or any of his school could truthfully picture this animal as either
+white or high-spirited. He might, it is true, have been born white and
+would in all probability have stayed white but for the many omissions
+and commissions of his earlier livery stable training--traces of which
+could still be found in his scraped sides and gnawed mane and tail; he
+might also have once had a certain commendable spirit had not the ups
+and downs of road life--and they were pretty steep outside Kennedy
+Square--taken it out of him.
+
+It is, however, when I come to the combination of horse and rider that
+I can with entire safety lapse into the flow of the old chroniclers. For
+whatever Harry had forgotten in his many experiences since he last threw
+his leg over Spitfire, horsemanship was not one of them. He still rode
+like a Cherokee and still sat his mount like a prince.
+
+He had had an anxious and busy morning. With the first streak of dawn he
+had written a long letter to his Uncle George, in which he told him of
+his arrival; of his heart-felt sorrow at what Pawson had imparted and of
+his leaving immediately, first for Wesley and then Craddock, as soon as
+he found out how the land lay at Moorlands. This epistle he was careful
+to enclose in another envelope, which he directed to Justice Coston,
+with instructions to forward it with "the least possible delay" to Mr.
+Temple, who was doubtless at Craddock, "and who was imperatively needed
+at home in connection with some matters which required his immediate
+personal attention," and which enclosure, it is just as well to state,
+the honorable justice placed inside the mantel clock, that being the
+safest place for such precious missives, at least until the right owner
+should appear.
+
+This duly mailed, he had returned to the Sailors' House, knocked at the
+door of the upstairs room in which, through his generosity, the street
+vendor lay sleeping, and after waking him up and becoming assured that
+the man was in real distress, had bought at twice their value the China
+silks which had caused the disheartened pedler so many weary hours of
+tramping. These he had tucked under his arm and carried away.
+
+The act was not alone due to his charitable instincts. A much more
+selfish motive influenced him. Indeed the thought came to him in a way
+that had determined him to attend to his mail at early dawn and return
+at sunrise lest the owner should disappear and take the bundle with him.
+The silks were the very things he needed to help him solve one of his
+greatest difficulties. He would try, as the sailor-pedler had done, to
+sell them in the neighborhood of Moorlands--(a common practice in those
+days)--and in this way might gather up the information of which he was
+in search. Pawson had not known him--perhaps the others would not: he
+might even offer the silks to his father without being detected.
+
+With this plan clearly defined in his mind, he had walked into a livery
+stable near the market, but a short distance from his lodgings, with the
+silks in a bundle and after looking the stock over had picked out this
+unprepossessing beast as best able to take him to Moorlands and back
+between sunrise and dark.
+
+As he rode on, leaving the scattered buildings of the town far behind,
+mounting the hills and then striking the turnpike--every rod of which he
+could have found in the dark--his thoughts, like road-swallows, skimmed
+each mile he covered. Here was where he had stopped with Kate when her
+stirrup broke; near the branches of that oak close to the ditch marking
+the triangle of cross-roads he had saved his own and Spitfire's neck by
+a clear jump that had been the talk of the neighborhood for days. On
+the crest of this hill--the one he was then ascending--his father always
+tightened up the brakes on his four-in-hand, and on the slope beyond
+invariably braced himself in his seat, swung his whip, and the flattened
+team swept on and down, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake that blurred
+the road for minutes thereafter.
+
+When noon came he dismounted at a farmer's out-building beside the
+road--he would not trust the public-houses--fed and watered his horse,
+rubbed him down himself, and after an hour's rest pushed on toward the
+fork in the road to Moorlands. Beyond this was a cross-path that led to
+the outbarns and farm stables--a path bordered by thick bushes and which
+skirted a fence in the rear of the manor house itself. Here he intended
+to tie his steed and there he would mount him again should his mission
+fail.
+
+The dull winter sky had already heralded the dusk--it was near four
+o'clock in the afternoon--when he passed some hayricks where a group
+of negroes were at work. One or two raised their heads and then, as
+if reassured, resumed their tasks. This encouraged him to push on the
+nearer--he had evidently been mistaken for one of the many tradespeople
+seeking his father's overseer, either to sell tools or buy produce.
+
+Tying the horse close to the fence--so close that it could not be seen
+from the house--he threw the bundle of silks over his shoulder and
+struck out for the small office in the rear. Here the business of the
+estate was transacted, and here were almost always to be found either
+the overseer or one of his assistants--both of them white. These men
+were often changed, and his chance, therefore, of meeting a stranger was
+all the more likely.
+
+As he approached the low sill of the door which was level with the
+ground, and which now stood wide open, he caught the glow of a fire and
+could make out the figure of a man seated at a desk bending over a mass
+of papers. The man pushed back a green shade which had protected his
+eyes from the glare of a lamp and peered out at him.
+
+It was his father!
+
+The discovery was so unexpected and had come with such suddenness--it
+was rarely in these later days that the colonel was to be found here in
+the afternoon: he was either riding or receiving visitors--that Harry's
+first thought was to shrink back out of sight, or, if discovered, to
+make some excuse for his intrusion and retire. Then his mind changed and
+he stepped boldly in. This was what he had come for and this was what he
+would face.
+
+"I have some China silks to sell," he said in his natural tone of voice,
+turning his head so that while his goods were in sight his face would be
+in shadow.
+
+"Silks! I don't want any silks! Who allowed you to pass in here? Alec!"
+He pushed back his chair and moved to the door. "Alec! Where the devil
+is Alec! He's always where I don't want him!"
+
+"I saw no one to ask, sir," Harry replied mechanically. His father's
+appearance had sent a chill through him; he would hardly have known him
+had he met him on the street. Not only did he look ten years older,
+but the injury to his sight caused him to glance sideways at any one he
+addressed, completely destroying the old fearless look in his eyes.
+
+"You never waited to ask! You walk into my private office unannounced
+and--" here he turned the lamp to see the better. "You're a sailor,
+aren't you?" he added fiercely--a closer view of the intruder only
+heightening his wrath.
+
+"Yes, sir--I'm a sailor," replied Harry simply, his voice dying in his
+throat as he summed up the changes that the years had wrought in the
+colonel's once handsome, determined face--thinner, more shrunken, his
+mustache and the short temple-whiskers almost white.
+
+For an instant his father crumpled a wisp of paper he was holding
+between his fingers and thumb; and then demanded sharply, but with a
+tone of curiosity, as if willing the intruder should tarry a moment
+while he gathered the information:
+
+"How long have you been a sailor?"
+
+"I am just in from my last voyage." He still kept in the shadow although
+he saw his father had so far failed to recognize him. The silks had been
+laid on a chair beside him.
+
+"That's not what I asked you. How long have you been a sailor?" He was
+scanning his face now as best he could, shifting the green shade that he
+might see the better.
+
+"I went to sea three years ago."
+
+"Three years, eh? Where did you go?"
+
+The tone of curiosity had increased. Perhaps the next question would
+lead up to some basis on which he could either declare himself or lay
+the foundation of a declaration to be made the next day--after he had
+seen his mother and Alec.
+
+"To South America. Para was my first port," he answered simply,
+wondering why he wanted to know.
+
+"That's not far from Rio?" He was still looking sideways at him, but
+there was no wavering in his gaze.
+
+"No, not far--Rio was our next stopping place. We had a hard voyage and
+put in to--"
+
+"Do you know a young man by the name of Rutter--slim man with dark hair
+and eyes?" interrupted his father in an angry tone.
+
+Harry started forward, his heart in his mouth, his hands upraised, his
+fingers opening. It was all he could do to restrain himself. "Don't you
+know me, father?" was trembling on his lips. Then something in the
+sound of the colonel's voice choked his utterance. Not now, he thought,
+mastering his emotion--a moment more and he would tell him.
+
+"I have heard of him, sir," he answered when he recovered his speech,
+straining his ears to catch the next word.
+
+"Heard of him, have you? So has everybody else heard of him--a worthless
+scoundrel who broke his mother's heart; a man who disgraced his
+family--a gentleman turned brigand--a renegade who has gone back on his
+blood! Tell him so if you see him! Tell him I said so; I'm his father,
+and know! No--I don't want your silks--don't want anything that has to
+do with sailormen. I am busy--please go away. Don't stop to bundle them
+up--do that outside," and he turned his back and readjusted the shade
+over his eyes.
+
+Harry's heart sank, and a cold faintness stole through his frame. He was
+not angry nor indignant. He was stunned.
+
+Without a word in reply he gathered up the silks from the chair, tucked
+them under his arm, and replacing his cap stepped outside into the fast
+approaching twilight. Whatever the morrow might bring forth, nothing
+more could be done to-day. To have thrown himself at his father's feet
+would only have resulted in his being driven from the grounds by the
+overseer, with the servants looking on--a humiliation he could not
+stand.
+
+As he stood rolling the fabrics into a smaller compass, a gray-haired
+negro in the livery of a house servant passed hurriedly and entered the
+door of the office. Instantly his father's voice rang out:
+
+"Where the devil have you been, Alec? How many times must I tell you to
+look after me oftener. Don't you know I'm half blind and--No--I don't
+want any more wood--I want these vagabonds kept off my grounds. Send Mr.
+Grant to me at once, and don't you lose sight of that man until you have
+seen him to the main road. He says he is a sailor--and I've had enough
+of sailors, and so has everybody else about here."
+
+The negro bowed and backed out of the room. No answer of any kind was
+best when the colonel was in one of his "tantrums."
+
+"I reckon I hab to ask ye, sah, to quit de place--de colonel don't 'low
+nobody to--" he said politely.
+
+Harry turned his face aside and started for the fence. His first thought
+was to drop his bundle and throw his arms around Alec's neck; then he
+realized that this would be worse than his declaring himself to his
+father--he could then be accused of attempting deception by the trick
+of a disguise. So he hurried on to where his horse was tied--his back
+to Alec, the bundle shifted to his left shoulder that he might hide his
+face the better until he was out of sight of the office, the old man
+stumbling on, calling after him:
+
+"No, dat ain't de way. Yer gotter go down de main road; here, man--don't
+I tell yer dat ain't de way."
+
+Harry had now gained the fence and had already begun to loosen the reins
+when Alec, out of breath and highly indignant over the refusal to carry
+out his warning, reached his side.
+
+"You better come right back f'om whar ye started," the old negro puffed;
+"ye can't go dat way or dey'll set de dogs on ye." Here his eyes rested
+on the reins and forelock. "What! you got a horse an' you--"
+
+Harry turned and laid his hand on the old servant's shoulder. He could
+hardly control his voice:
+
+"Don't you know me, Alec? I'm Harry!"
+
+The old man bent down, peered into Harry's eyes, and with a quick spring
+forward grabbed him by both shoulders.
+
+"You my Marse Harry!--you!" His breath was gone now, his whole body in a
+tremble, his eyes bulging from his head.
+
+"Yes, Alec, Harry! It's only the beard. Look at me! I didn't want my
+father to see us--that's why I kept on."
+
+The old servant threw up his hands and caught his young master around
+the neck. For some seconds he could not speak.
+
+"And de colonel druv ye out!" he gasped. "Oh, my Gawd! my Gawd! And ye
+ain't daid, and ye come back home ag'in." He was sobbing now, his head
+on the exile's shoulder, Harry's arms about him--patting his bent back.
+"But yer gotter go back, Marse Harry," he moaned. "He ain't 'sponsible
+these days. He didn't know ye! Come 'long, son; come back wid ol' Alec;
+please come, Marse Harry. Oh, Gawd! ye GOTTER come!"
+
+"No, I'll go home to-night--another day I'll--"
+
+"Ye ain't got no home but dis, I tell ye! Go tell him who ye is--lemme
+run tell him. I won't be a minute. Oh! Marse Harry, I can't let ye go! I
+been dat mizzable widout ye. I ain't neber got over lovin' ye!"
+
+Here a voice from near the office broke out. In the dusk the two could
+just make out the form of the colonel, who was evidently calling to some
+of his people. He was bareheaded and without his shade.
+
+"I've sent Alec to see him safe off the grounds. You go yourself, Mr.
+Grant, and follow him into the highroad; remember that after this I hold
+you responsible for these prowlers."
+
+The two had paused while the colonel was speaking, Harry, gathering the
+reins in his hand, ready to vault into the saddle, and Alec, holding on
+to his coat-sleeves hoping still to detain him.
+
+"I haven't a minute more--quick, Alec, tell me how my mother is."
+
+"She's middlin' po'ly, same's ever; got great rings under her eyes and
+her heart's dat heaby makes abody cry ter look at 'er. But she ain't
+sick, jes' griebin' herse'f to death. Ain't yer gwineter stop and see
+'er? May be I kin git ye in de back way."
+
+"Not now--not here. Bring her to Uncle George's house to-morrow about
+noon, and I will be there. Tell her how I look, but don't tell her what
+my father has done. And now tell me about Miss Kate--how long since you
+saw her? Is she married?"
+
+Again the colonel's voice was heard; this time much nearer--within
+hailing distance. He and the overseer were evidently approaching the
+fence; some of the negroes had doubtless apprised them of the course of
+Harry's exit.
+
+Alec turned quickly to face his master, and Harry, realizing that his
+last moment had come, swung himself into the saddle. If Alec made any
+reply to his question it was lost in the clatter of hoofs as both horse
+and man swept down the by-path. In another moment they had gained
+the main road, the rider never breaking rein until he had reached the
+farm-house where he had fed and watered his horse some hours before.
+
+
+Thirty-odd miles out and back was not a long ride for a hired horse in
+these days over a good turnpike with plenty of time for resting--and
+he had as many breathing spells as gallops, for Harry's moods really
+directed his gait. Once in a while he would give him his head, the reins
+lying loose, the horse picking his way in a walk. Then the bitterness
+of his father's words and how undeserved they were, and how the house
+of cards his hopes had built up had come tumbling down about his ears
+at the first point of contact would rush over him, and he would dig his
+heels into the horse's flanks and send him at full gallop through the
+night along the pale ribbon of a road barely discernible in the ghostly
+dark. When, however, Alec's sobs smote his ear, or the white face of his
+mother confronted him, the animal would gradually slacken his pace and
+drop into a walk.
+
+Dominated by these emotions certain fixed resolutions at last took
+possession of him: He would see his mother at once, no matter at what
+cost--even if he defied his father--and then he would find his uncle.
+Whether he would board the next vessel heaving port and return to his
+work in the mountains, or whether he would bring his uncle back from
+Craddock and the two, with his own vigorous youth and new experience of
+the world, fight it out together as they had once done before, depended
+on what St. George advised. Now that Kate's marriage was practically
+decided upon, one sorrow--and his greatest--was settled forever. Any
+others that were in store for him he would meet as they came.
+
+With his mind still intent on these plans he rode at last into the open
+door of the small courtyard of the livery stable and drew rein under a
+swinging lantern. It was past ten at night, and the place was deserted,
+except by a young negro who advanced to take his horse. Tossing the
+bridle aside he slipped to the ground.
+
+"He's wet," Harry said, "but he's all right. Let him cool off gradually,
+and don't give him any water until he gets dry. I'll come in to-morrow
+and pay your people what I owe them."
+
+The negro curry-combed his fingers down the horse's flanks as if to
+assure himself of his condition, and in the movement brought his face
+under the glare of the overhead light.
+
+Harry grabbed him by the shoulder and swung him round.
+
+"Todd--you rascal! What are you doing here? Why are you not down on the
+Eastern Shore?" His astonishment was so intense that for an instant he
+could not realize he had the right man.
+
+The negro drew back. He was no runaway slave, and he didn't intend to be
+taken for one--certainly not by a man as rough and suspicious looking as
+the one before him.
+
+"How you know my name, man?" He was nervous and scared half out of his
+wits. More than one negro had been shanghaied in that way and smuggled
+off to sea.
+
+"Know you! I'd know you among a thousand. Have you, too, deserted your
+master?" He still held him firmly by the collar of his coat, his voice
+rising with his wrath. "Why have you left him? Answer me."
+
+For an instant the negro hesitated, leaned forward, and then with a
+burst of joy end out:
+
+"You ain't!--Fo' Gawd it is! Dat beard on ye, Marse Harry, done fool
+me--but you is him fo' sho. Gor-a-mighty! ain't I glad ye ain't daid.
+Marse George say on'y yisterday you was either daid or sick dat ye
+didn't write an'--"
+
+"Said yesterday! Why, is he at home?"
+
+"HOME! Lemme throw a blanket over dis hoss and tie him tell we come
+back. Oh, we had a heap o' mis'ry since ye went away--a heap o' trouble.
+Nothin' but trouble! You come 'long wid me--'tain't far; des around
+de corner. I'll show ye sompin' make ye creep all over. An' it ain't
+gettin' no better--gettin' wuss. Dis way, Manse Harry. You been 'cross
+de big water, ain't ye? Dat's what I heared. Aunt Jemima been mighty
+good, but we can't go on dis way much longer."
+
+Still talking, forging ahead in the darkness through the narrow street
+choked with horseless drays, Todd swung into a dingy yard, mounted a
+flight of rickety wooden steps, and halted at an unpainted door. Turning
+the knob softly he beckoned silently to Harry, and the two stepped
+into a small room lighted by a low lamp placed on the hearth, its rays
+falling on a cot bed and a few chairs. Beside a cheap pine table sat
+Aunt Jemima, rocking noiselessly. The old woman raised her hand in
+warning and put her fingers to her lips.
+
+On the bed, with the coverlet drawn close under his chin, lay his Uncle
+George!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+
+Harry looked about the room in a bewildered way and then tiptoed to
+St. George's bed. It had been a day of surprises, but this last had
+completely upset him. St. George dependent on the charity of his old
+cook and without other attendant than Todd! Why had he been deserted
+by everybody who loved him? Why was he not at Wesley or Craddock? Why
+should he be here of all places in the world?
+
+All these thoughts surged through his mind as he stood above the patient
+and watched his slow, labored breathing. That he had been ill for some
+time was evident in his emaciated face and the deep hollows into which
+his closed eyes were sunken.
+
+Aunt Jemima rose and handed the intruder her chair. He sat down
+noiselessly beside him. Once his uncle coughed, and in the effort drew
+the coverlet close about his throat, his eyes still shut; but whether
+from weakness or drowsiness, Harry could not tell. Presently he shifted
+his body, and moving his head on the pillow, called softly:
+
+"Jemima?"
+
+The old woman bent over him.
+
+"Yes, Marse George."
+
+"Give me a little milk--my throat troubles me."
+
+Harry drew back into the shadow cast over one end of the cot and rear
+wall by the low lamp on the hearth. Whether to slip his hand gently over
+his uncle's and declare himself, or whether to wait until he dozed again
+and return in the morning, when he would be less tired and could better
+withstand the shock of the meeting, was the question which disturbed
+him. And yet he could not leave until he satisfied himself of just what
+ought to be done. If he left him at all it must be for help of some
+kind. He leaned over and whispered in Jemima's ear:
+
+"Has he had a doctor?"
+
+Jemima shook her head. "He wouldn't hab none; he ain't been clean beat
+out till day befo' yisterday, an' den I got skeered an'--" She stopped,
+leaned closer, clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming,
+and staggered back to her chair.
+
+St. George raised his head from the pillow and stared into the shadows.
+
+"Who is talking? I heard somebody speak? Jemima--you haven't disobeyed
+me, have you?"
+
+Harry stepped noiselessly to the bedside and laid his fingers on the
+sick man's wrist:
+
+"Uncle George," he said gently.
+
+Temple lowered his head as if to focus his gaze.
+
+"Yes, there is some one!" he cried in a stronger voice. "Who are you,
+sir?--not a doctor, are you? I didn't send for you!--I don't want any
+doctor, I told my servant so. Jemima!--Todd!--why do you--"
+
+Harry tightened his grasp on the emaciated wrist. "No, Uncle George,
+it's Harry! I'm just back."
+
+"What did he say, Todd? Harry!--Harry! Did he say he was Harry, or am I
+losing my mind?"
+
+In his eagerness to understand he lifted himself to a sitting posture,
+his eyes wandering uneasily over the speaker's body, resting on his
+head--on his shoulders, arms, and hands--as if trying to fix his mind on
+something which constantly baffled him.
+
+Harry continued to pat his wrist soothingly.
+
+"Yes, it's Harry, Uncle George," he answered. "But don't talk--lie
+down. I'm all right--I got in yesterday and have been looking for
+you everywhere. Pawson told me you were at Wesley. I found Todd a few
+minutes ago by the merest accident, and he brought me here. No, you must
+lie down--let me help--rest yourself on me--so." He was as tender with
+him as if he had been his own mother.
+
+The sick man shook himself free--he was stronger than Harry thought. He
+was convinced now that there was some trick being played upon him--one
+Jemima in her anxiety had devised.
+
+"How dare you, sir, lie to me like that! Who asked you to come here?
+Todd--send this fellow from the room!"
+
+Harry drew back out of his uncle's vision and carefully watched the
+invalid. St. George's mind was evidently unhinged and it would be better
+not to thwart him.
+
+Todd crept up. He had seen his master like this once before and had had
+all he could do to keep him in bed.
+
+"Dat ain't no doctor, Marse George," he pleaded, his voice trembling.
+"Dat's Marse Harry come back agin alive. It's de hair on his face make
+him look dat way; dat fool me too. It's Marse Harry, fo' sho'--I fotch
+him yere myse'f. He's jes' come from de big ship."
+
+St. George twisted his head, looked long and earnestly into Harry's
+face, and with a sudden cry of joy stretched out his hand and motioned
+him nearer. Harry sank to his knees beside the bed. St. George curved
+one arm about his neck, drew him tightly to his breast as he would a
+woman, and fell back upon the pillow with Harry's head next his own.
+There the two lay still, St. George's eyes half closed, thick sobs
+stifling his utterance, the tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his
+thin white fingers caressing the brown hair of the boy he loved. At
+last, with a heavy, indrawn sigh, not of grief, but of joy, he muttered:
+
+"It's true, isn't it, my son?"
+
+Harry hugged him the tighter in answer.
+
+"And you are home for good?"
+
+Again the pressure. "Yes, but don't talk, you must go to sleep. I won't
+leave you." His own tears were choking him now.
+
+Then, after a long pause, releasing his grasp: "I did not know how weak
+I was.... Maybe I had better not talk.... Don't stay. Come to-morrow and
+tell me about it.... There is no bed for you here... I am sorry ... but
+you must go away--you couldn't be comfortable.... Todd--"
+
+The darky started forward--both he and Aunt Jemima were crying:
+
+"Yes, Marse George."
+
+"Take the lamp and light Mr. Rutter downstairs. To-morrow--to-morrow,
+Harry.... My God--think of it!--Harry home! Harry home! My Harry home!"
+and he turned his face to the wall.
+
+On the way back--first to the stable, where he found that the horse
+had been properly cared for and his bill ready and then to his
+lodgings,--Todd told him the story of what had happened: At first his
+master had firmly intended going to the Eastern Shore--and for a
+long stay--for he had ordered his own and Todd's trunks packed with
+everything they both owned in the way of clothes. On the next day,
+however--the day before the boat left--Mr. Temple had made a visit to
+Jemima to bid her good-by, where he learned that her white lodger had
+decamped between suns, leaving two months board unpaid. In the effort to
+find this man, or compel his employer to pay his bill, out of some wages
+still due him--in both of which he failed--his master had missed the
+boat and they were obliged to wait another week. During this interim,
+not wishing to return to Pawson, and being as he said very comfortable
+where he was with his two servants to wait upon him, and the place as
+clean as a pin--his master had moved his own and Todd's trunk from the
+steamboat warehouse where they had been stored and had had them brought
+to Jemima's. Two days later--whether from exposure in tramping the
+streets in his efforts to collect the old woman's bill, or whether the
+change of lodgings had affected him--he was taken down with a chill and
+had been in bed ever since. With this situation staring both Jemima
+and himself in the face--for neither she nor Mr. Temple had much
+money left--Todd had appealed to Gadgem--(he being the only man in his
+experience who could always produce a roll of bills when everybody else
+failed)--who took him to the stableman whose accounts he collected--and
+who had once bought one of St. George's saddles--and who then and there
+hired Todd as night attendant. His wages, added to what Jemima could
+earn over her tubs, had kept the three alive. All this had taken place
+four weeks or more ago.
+
+None of all this, he assured Harry, had he told Gadgem or anybody
+else, his master's positive directions being to keep his abode and his
+condition a secret from everybody. All the collector knew was that Mr.
+Temple being too poor to take Todd with him, had left him behind to
+shift for himself until he could send for him. All the neighborhood
+knew, to quote Todd's own hilarious chuckle, was that "Miss Jemima
+Johnsing had two mo' boa'ders; one a sick man dat had los' his job an'
+de udder a yaller nigger who sot up nights watchin' de hosses eat dere
+haids off."
+
+Since that time his master had had various ups and downs, but although
+he was still weak he was very much stronger than he had been any time
+since he had taken to his bed. Only once had he been delirious; then he
+talked ramblingly about Miss Kate and Marse Harry. This had so scared
+Aunt Jemima that she had determined to go to Mammy Henny and have her
+tell Miss Kate, so he could get a doctor--something he had positively
+forbidden her to do, but he grew so much better the next day that she
+had given it up; since that time his mind had not again given way. All
+he wanted now, so Todd concluded, was a good soup and "a drap o' sumpin
+warmin'--an' he'd pull thu'. But dere warn't no use tryin' ter git
+him to take it 'cause all he would eat was taters an' corn pone an'
+milk--an' sich like, 'cause he said dere warn't money 'nough fer de
+three--" whereupon Todd turned his head away and caught his breath,
+and then tried to pass it off as an unbidden choke--none of which
+subterfuges deceived Harry in the least.
+
+When the two arrived off the dimly burning lantern--it was past ten
+o'clock--and pushed in the door of the Sailors' House, Todd received
+another shock--one that sent his eyes bulging from his head. That Marse
+Harry Rutter, who was always a law unto himself, should grow a beard
+and wear rough clothes, was to be expected--"Dem Rutters was allus dat
+way--do jes's dey mineter--" but that the most elegant young man of
+his day "ob de fustest quality," should take up his quarters in a low
+sailors' retreat, and be looked upon by the men gathered under
+the swinging lamp around a card table--(some of whom greeted Harry
+familiarly)--as one of their own kind, completely staggered him.
+
+The pedler was particularly gracious--so much so that when he learned
+that Harry was leaving for good, and had come to get his belongings--he
+jumped up and insisted on helping--at which Harry laughed and assented,
+and as a further mark of his appreciation presented him with the
+now useless silks, in addition to the money he gave him--an act of
+generosity which formed the sole topic of conversation in the resort for
+weeks thereafter.
+
+Board and lodging paid, the procession took up its return march: Harry
+in front, Todd, still dazed and still at sea as to the meaning of it
+all, following behind; the pedler between with Harry's heavy coat,
+blankets, etc.--all purchased since his shipwreck--the party threading
+the choked-up street until they reached the dingy yard, where the pedler
+dumped his pack and withdrew, while the darky stowed his load in the
+basement. This done, the two tiptoed once more up the stairs to where
+Aunt Jemima awaited them, St. George having fallen asleep.
+
+Beckoning the old woman away from the bedroom door and into the far
+corner of the small hall, Harry unfolded to her as much of his plans
+for the next day as he thought she ought to know. Early in the
+morning--before his uncle was astir--he would betake himself to Kennedy
+Square; ascertain from Pawson whether his uncle's rooms were still
+unoccupied, and if such were the case--and St. George be unable to
+walk--would pick him up bodily, wrap him in blankets, carry him in
+his own arms downstairs, place him in a carriage, and drive him to his
+former home where he would again pick him up and lay him in his own bed:
+This would be better than a hundred doctors--he had tried it himself
+when he was down with fever and knew. Aunt Jemima was to go ahead and
+see that these preparations were carried out. Should Alec be able to
+bring his mother to Kennedy Square in the morning, as he had instructed
+him to do, then there would indeed be somebody on hand who could nurse
+him even better than Jemima; should his mother not be there, Jemima
+would take her place. Nothing of all this, he charged her, was to be
+told St. George until the hour of departure. To dwell upon the intended
+move might overexcite him. Then, when everything was ready--his linen,
+etc., arranged--(Jemima was also to look after this)--he would whisk him
+off and make him comfortable in his own bed. He would, of course, now
+that his uncle wished it, keep secret his retreat; although why St.
+George Wilmot Temple, Esq., or any other gentleman of his standing,
+should object to being taken care of by his own servants was a thing he
+could not understand: Pawson, of course, need not know--nor should any
+outside person--not even Gadgem if he came nosing around. To these he
+would merely say that Mr. Temple had seen fit to leave home and that Mr.
+Temple had seen fit to return again: that was quite enough for attorneys
+and collectors. To all the others he would keep his counsel, until St.
+George himself made confession, which he was pretty sure he would do at
+the first opportunity.
+
+This decided upon he bade Jemima good-night, gave her explicit
+directions to call him, should his uncle awake (her own room opened out
+of St. George's) spread his blanket in the cramped hall outside the sick
+man's door--he had not roughed it on shipboard and in the wilderness all
+these years without knowing something of the soft side of a plank--and
+throwing his heavy ship's coat over him fell fast asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+
+When the first glimmer of the gray dawn stole through the small window
+at the end of the narrow hall, and laid its chilled fingers on Harry's
+upturned face, it found him still asleep. His ride to Moorlands and
+back--his muscles unused for months to the exercise--had tired him. The
+trials of the day, too, those with his father and his Uncle George,
+had tired him the more--and so he had slept on as a child sleeps--as a
+perfectly healthy man sleeps--both mind and body drinking in the ozone
+of a new courage and a new hope.
+
+With the first ray of the joyous sun riding full tilt across his face,
+he opened his eyes, threw off the cloak, and sprang to his feet. For an
+instant he looked wonderingly about as if in doubt whether to call the
+watch or begin the hunt for his cattle. Then the pine door caught his
+eye and the low, measured breathing of his uncle fell upon his ear,
+and with a quick lift of his arms, his strong hands thumping his broad
+chest, he stretched himself to his full height: he had work to do, and
+he must begin at once.
+
+Aunt Jemima was already at her duties. She had tiptoed past his sleeping
+body an hour before, and after listening to St. George's breathing had
+plunged into her tubs; the cat's cradle in the dingy court-yard being
+already gay with various colored fragments, including Harry's red
+flannel shirts which Todd had found in a paper parcel, and which the
+old woman had pounced upon at sight. She insisted on making him a cup of
+coffee, but he had no time for such luxuries. He would keep on, he said,
+to Kennedy Square, find Pawson, ascertain if St. George's old rooms were
+still unoccupied; notify him of Mr. Temple's return; have his bed made
+and fires properly lighted; stop at the livery stable, wake up Todd,
+if that darky had overslept himself--quite natural when he had been up
+almost all night--engage a carriage to be at Jemima's at four
+o'clock, and then return to get everything ready for the
+picking-up-and-carrying-downstairs process.
+
+And all this he did do; and all this he told Jemima he had done when
+he swung into the court-yard an hour later, a spring to his heels and a
+cheery note in his voice that had not been his for years. The reaction
+that hope brings to youth had set in. He was alive and at home; his
+Uncle George was where he could get his hands on him--in a minute--by
+the mounting of the stairs; and Alec and his mother within reach!
+
+And the same glad song was in his heart when he opened his uncle's door
+after he had swallowed his coffee--Jemima had it ready for him this
+time--and thrusting in his head cried out:
+
+"We are going to get you out of here, Uncle George!" This with a
+laugh--one of his old contagious laughs that was music in the sick man's
+ears.
+
+"When?" asked the invalid, his face radiant. He had been awake an hour
+wondering what it all meant. He had even thought of calling to Jemima
+to reassure himself that it was not a dream, until he heard her over her
+tubs and refrained from disturbing her.
+
+"Oh, pretty soon! I have just come from Pawson's. Fogbin hasn't put in
+an appearance and there's nobody in the rooms and hasn't been anybody
+there since you left. He can't understand it, nor can I--and I don't
+want to. I have ordered the bed made and a fire started in both the
+chamber and the old dining-room, and if anybody objects he has got to
+say so to me, and I am a very uncomfortable person to say some kinds
+of things to nowadays. So up you get when the time comes; and Todd and
+Jemima are to go too. I've got money enough, anyhow, to begin on. Aunt
+Jemima says you had a good night and it won't be long now before you are
+yourself again."
+
+The radiant smile on the sick man's face blossomed into a laugh:
+"Yes--the best night that I have had since I was taken ill, and--Where
+did you sleep, my son?"
+
+"Me!--Oh, I had a fine time--long, well-ventilated room with two windows
+and private staircase; nice pine bedstead--very comfortable place for
+this part of the town."
+
+St. George looked at him and his eyes filled. His mind was neither on
+his own questions nor on Harry's answers.
+
+"Get a chair, Harry, and sit by me so I can look at you closer. How
+fine and strong you are my son--not like your father--you're like your
+mother. And you've broadened out--mentally as well as physically. Pretty
+hard I tell you to spoil a gentleman--more difficult still to spoil a
+Rutter. But you must get that beard off--it isn't becoming to you, and
+then somebody might think you disguised yourself on purpose. I didn't
+know you at first, neither did Jemima--and you don't want anybody else
+to make that kind of a mistake."
+
+"My father did, yesterday--" Harry rejoined quietly, dropping into
+Jemima's chair.
+
+St. George half raised himself from his bed: "You have seen him?"
+
+"Yes--and I wish I hadn't. But I hunted everywhere for you and then got
+a horse and rode out home. He didn't know me--that is, I'm pretty sure
+he didn't--but he cursed me all the same. My mother and old Alec, I
+hope, will come in to-day--but father's chapter is closed forever. I
+have been a fool to hope for anything else."
+
+"Drove you out! Oh, no--NO! Harry! Impossible!"
+
+"But he did--" and then followed an account of all the wanderer had
+passed through from the time he had set foot on shore to the moment of
+meeting Todd and himself.
+
+For some minutes St. George lay staring at the ceiling. It was all a
+horrid, nightmare to him. Talbot deserved nothing but contempt and he
+would get it so far as he was concerned. He agreed with Harry that all
+reconciliation was now a thing of the past; the only solution possible
+was that Talbot was out of his senses--the affair having undermined
+his reason. He had heard of such cases and had doubted them--he was
+convinced now that they could be true. His answer, therefore, to Harry's
+next question--one about his lost sweetheart--was given with a certain
+hesitation. As long as the memory of Rutter's curses rankled within him
+all reference to Kate's affairs--even the little he knew himself--must
+be made with some circumspection. There was no hope in that direction
+either, but he did not want to tell him so outright; nor did he want to
+dwell too long upon the subject.
+
+"And I suppose Kate is married by this time, Uncle George," Harry said
+at last in a casual tone, "is she not?" (He had been leading up to it
+rather skilfully, but there had been no doubt in his uncle's mind as to
+his intention.) "I saw the house lighted up, night before last when I
+passed, and a lot of people about, so I thought it might be either the
+wedding or the reception." The question had left his lips as one shoots
+an arrow in the dark--hit or miss--as if he did not care which. He too
+realized that this was no time to open wounds, certainly not in his
+uncle's heart; and yet he could wait no longer.
+
+"No--I don't think the wedding has taken place," St. George replied
+vaguely. "The servants would know if it had--they know everything--and
+Aunt Jemima would be the first to have told me. The house being lighted
+up is no evidence. They have been giving a series of entertainments this
+winter and there were more to come when I last saw Kate, which was one
+night at Richard Horn's. But let us close that chapter too, my boy. You
+and I will take a new lease of life from now on. You have already put
+fresh blood into my veins--I haven't felt so well for weeks. Now tell
+me about yourself. Your last letter reached me six months ago, if
+I remember right. You were then in Rio and were going up into the
+mountains. Did you go?"
+
+"Yes--up into the Rio Abaste country where they had discovered diamonds
+as big as hens' eggs--one had been sold for nearly a quarter of a
+million dollars--and everybody was crazy. I didn't find any diamonds nor
+anything else but starvation, so I herded cattle, that being the only
+thing I knew anything about--how to ride--and slept out on the lowlands
+sometimes under a native mat and sometimes under the kindly stars. Then
+we had a revolution and cattle raids, and one night I came pretty near
+being chewed up by a puma--and so it went. I made a little money in
+rawhides after I got to know the natives, and I'm going back to make
+some more; and you are going with me when we get things straightened
+out. I wouldn't have come home except that I heard you had been turned
+out neck and crop from Kennedy Square. One of Mr. Seymour's clerks
+stopped in Rio on his way to the River Plate and did some business with
+an English agent whom I met afterward at a hacienda, and who told me
+about you when he learned I was from Kennedy Square. And when I think
+of it all, Uncle George, and what you have suffered on account of
+me!"--Here his voice faltered. "No!--I won't talk about it--I can't.
+I have spent too many sleepless nights over it: I have been hungry and
+half dead, but I have kept on--and I am not through: I'll pull out yet
+and put you on your feet once more if I live!"
+
+St. George laid his hand tenderly on the young man's wrist. He knew how
+the boy felt about it. That was one of the things he loved him for.
+
+"And so you started home when you heard it," he went on, clearing his
+throat. "That was just like you, you dear fellow! And you haven't come
+home an hour too soon. I should have been measured for a pine coffin in
+another week." The choke was quite in evidence now. "You see, I really
+couldn't go to Coston's when I thought it all over. I had made up
+my mind to go for a week or so until I saw this place, and then I
+determined I would stop with Jemima. I could eke out an existence here
+on what I had left and still feel like a gentleman, but I couldn't
+settle down on dear Peggy Coston and be anything but a poltroon. As to
+my making a living at the law--that was pure moonshine. I haven't
+opened a law book for twenty years and now it's too late. People of our
+class"--here he looked away from his companion and talked straight
+at the foot of the bed--"People of our class my boy," he repeated
+slowly--"when they reach the neck and crop period you spoke of, are at
+the end of their rope. There are then but two things left--either to
+become the inmate of a poorhouse or to become a sponge. I prefer this
+bare room as a happy medium, and I am content to stay where I am as long
+as we three can keep body and soul together. There is--so Pawson told me
+before I left my house--a little money coming in from a ground rent--a
+few months off, perhaps, but more than enough to pay Todd back--he gives
+Jemima every cent of his wages--and when this does come in and I can get
+out once more, I'm going to order my life so I can make a respectable
+showing of some kind."
+
+He paused for a moment, fastened his gaze again on Harry, and continued:
+
+"As to my going back to Pawson's, I am not altogether sure that that
+is the wisest thing to do. I may have to leave again as soon as I get
+comfortably settled in my bed. I turned out at his bidding before and
+may have to turn again when he says the word. So don't kindle too many
+fires with Pawson's wood--I hadn't a log to my name when I left--or
+it may warm somebody's else's shins besides mine," and a merry twinkle
+shone in his eyes.
+
+Harry burst out laughing.
+
+"Wood or no wood, Uncle George, I'm going to be landlord now--Pawson can
+move out and graze his cattle somewhere else. I'm going to take charge
+of the hut and stock and the pack mules and provisions--and with a gun,
+if necessary--" and he levelled an imaginary fowling-piece with a boyish
+gesture.
+
+"Don't you try to move anybody without an order of the court!" cried
+St. George, joining in the merriment. "With that mortgage hanging
+over everything and Gorsuch and your father cudgelling their brains to
+foreclose it, you won't have a ghost of a chance. Come to think of it,
+however, I might help--for a few weeks' expenses, at least. How
+would this do?" Here he had all he could do to straighten his face:
+"'Attention now--Hats off in the court-room. For sale or hire! Immediate
+delivery. One first-class gentleman, in reasonable repair. Could be
+made useful in opening and shutting doors, or in dancing attendance upon
+children under one year of age, or in keeping flies from bedridden
+folk. Apply, and so forth,' Gadgem could fix it. He has done the most
+marvellous things in the last year or two--extraordinary, really! Ask
+Todd about it some time--he'll tell you."
+
+They were both roaring with laughter, St. George so buoyed up by the
+contagious spirit of the young fellow that he insisted on getting out of
+bed and sitting in Aunt Jemima's rocking chair with a blanket across his
+knees.
+
+All the morning did this happy talk go on:--the joyous unconfined talk
+of two men who had hungered and thirsted for each other through weary
+bitter days and nights, and whose coming together was like the mingling
+of two streams long kept apart, and now one great river flowing to a
+common outlet and a common good.
+
+And not only did their talk cover the whole range of Harry's experiences
+from the time he left the ship for his sojourn in the hill country and
+the mountains beyond, and all of St. George's haps and mishaps, with
+every single transaction of Gadgem and Pawson--loving cup, dogs and
+all--but when their own personal news was exhausted they both fell back
+on their friends, such as Richard Horn and old Judge Pancoast; when he
+had seen Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Latrobe--yes, and what of Mr. Poe--had he
+written any more?--and were his habits any better?--etc., etc.
+
+"I have seen Mr. Poe several times since that unfortunate dinner, Harry;
+the last time when he was good enough to call upon me on his way to
+Richmond. He was then particularly himself. You would not have known
+him--grave, dignified, perfectly dressed--charming, delightful. He came
+in quite late--indeed I was going to bed when I heard his knock and,
+Todd being out, I opened the door myself. There was some of that Black
+Warrior left, and I brought out the decanter, but he shook his head
+courteously and continued his talk. He asked after you. Wonderful man,
+Harry--a man you never forget once you know him."
+
+St. George dragged the pine table nearer his chair and moistened his
+lips with the glass of milk which Jemima had set beside him. Then he
+went on:
+
+"You remember Judge Giles, do you not? Lives here on St. Paul
+Street--yes--of course you do--for he is a great friend of your father's
+and you must have met him repeatedly at Moorlands. Well, one day at the
+club he told me the most extraordinary story about Mr. Poe--this was
+some time after you'd gone. It seems that the judge was at work in his
+study late one snowy night when his doorbell sounded. Outside stood
+a man with his coat buttoned close about his throat--evidently a
+gentleman--who asked him politely for a sheet of paper and a pen. You
+know the judge, and how kind and considerate he is. Well, of course he
+asked him in, drew out a chair at his desk and stepped into the next
+room to leave him undisturbed. After a time, not hearing him move, he
+looked in and to his surprise the stranger had disappeared. On the desk
+lay a sheet of paper on which was written three verses of a poem. It was
+his 'Bells.' The judge has had them framed, so I hear. There was enough
+snow on the ground to bring out the cutters, and Poe had the rhythm of
+the bells ringing in his head and being afraid he would forget it he
+pulled the judge's doorbell. I wish he'd rung mine. I must get the poem
+for you, Harry--it's as famous now as 'The Raven.' Richard, I hear,
+reads it so that you can distinguish the sound of each bell."
+
+"Well, he taught me a lesson," said Harry, tucking the blanket close
+around his uncle's knees--"one I have never forgotten, and never will.
+He sent me to bed a wreck, I remember, but I got up the next morning
+with a new mast in me and all my pumps working."
+
+"You mean--" and St. George smiled meaningly and tossed his hand up as
+if emptying a glass.
+
+"Yes--just that--" rejoined Harry with a nod. "It's so hot out where
+I have been that a glass of native rum is as bad as a snake bite and
+everybody except a native leaves it alone. But if I had gone to the
+North Pole instead of the equator I would have done the same. Men like
+you and father, and Mr. Richard Horn and Mr. Kennedy, who have been
+brought up on moderation, may feel as they choose about it, but I'm
+going to let it alone. It's the devil when it gets into your blood and
+mine's not made for it. I'd like to thank Mr. Poe if I dared, which
+I wouldn't, of course, if I ever saw him, for what he did for me. I
+wouldn't be surprised if he would give a good deal himself to do the
+same--or has he pulled out?"
+
+"He never has pulled in, Harry--not continuously. Richard has the right
+of it. Poe is a man pursued by a devil and lives always on the watch to
+prevent the fiend from getting the best of him. Months at a time he
+wins and then there comes a day when the devil gets on top. He says
+himself--he told me this the last time I saw him--that he really lives
+a life devoted to his literary work; that he shuts himself up from
+everybody; and that the desire for society only comes upon him when he's
+excited by drink. Then, and only then, does he go among his fellows.
+There is some truth in that, my son, for as long as I have known him
+I have never seen him in his cups except that one night at my house. A
+courteous, well-bred gentleman, my boy--most punctilious about all his
+obligations and very honest about his failings. All he said to me
+the next day when he sobered up--I kept him all that night, you
+remember--was: 'I was miserably weak and inexcusably drunk last night,
+Mr. Temple. If that was all it would make no difference; I have been
+very drunk before, and I will be very drunk again; but in addition to my
+being drunk I insulted you and your friends and ruined your dinner. That
+makes every difference. Don't let it cause a break between us. Let me
+come again. And now please brush it from your mind. If you knew how I
+suffer over this fiend who tortures and gloats over me you'd only have
+the greatest pity for me, in your heart.' Then he wrung my hand and left
+the house."
+
+"Well, that's all any of us could do," sighed Harry, leaning back in his
+chair, his eyes on the ceiling. "It makes some difference, however,
+of whom you ask forgiveness. I've been willing to say the same kind of
+thing to my father ever since my affair with Mr. Willits, but it would
+have fallen on deaf ears. I had another trial at it yesterday, and you
+know what happened."
+
+"I don't think your father knew you, Harry," protested St. George, with
+a negative wave of his hand.
+
+"I hope he didn't--I shouldn't like to think he did. But, by heaven! it
+broke my heart to see him, Uncle George. You would hardly know him. Even
+his voice has changed and the shade over his eyes and the way he twists
+his head when he looks at you really gave me a creepy feeling," and the
+young man passed his fingers across his own eyes as if to shut out some
+hideous object.
+
+"Was he looking straight at you when he ordered you from the room?"
+
+"Straight as he could."
+
+"Well, let us try and think it was the beard. And that reminds me, son,
+that it's got to come off, and right away. When Todd comes in he'll find
+my razors and--"
+
+"No--I'll look up a barber."
+
+"Not down in this part of the town," exclaimed St. George with a
+suggestive grimace.
+
+"No--I'll go up to Guy's. There used to be an old negro there who looked
+after us young fellows when our beards began to sprout. He'll take care
+of it all right. While I'm out I'll stop and send Todd back. I'm going
+to end his apprenticeship to-day, and so he'll help you dress. Nothing
+like getting into your clothes when you're well enough to get out
+of bed; I've done it more than once," and with a pat on his uncle's
+shoulder and the readjustment of the blanket, he closed the door behind
+him and left the room.
+
+"Everything is working fine, auntie," he cried gaily as he passed the
+old woman who was hanging out the last of her wash. "I'll be back in
+an hour. Don't tell him yet--" and he strode out of the yard on his way
+uptown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+
+Intruders of all kinds had thrust their heads between the dripping,
+slightly moist, and wholly dry installments of Aunt Jemima's Monday
+wash, and each and every one had been assailed by a vocabulary hurled
+at them through the creaky gate, and as far out as the street--peddlers;
+beggars; tramps; loose darkies with no visible means of support, who
+had smelt the cooking in the air--even goats with an acquired taste for
+stocking legs and window curtains--all of whom had either been invited
+out, whirled out, or thrown out, dependent upon the damage inflicted,
+the size of the favors asked, or the length of space intervening between
+Jemima's right arm and their backs. In all of these instances the old
+cook had been the broom and the intruders the dust. Being an expert in
+its use the intruders had succumbed before they had gotten through their
+first sentence. In the case of the goat even that privilege was denied
+him; it was the handle and not the brush-part which ended the argument.
+To see Aunt Jemima get rid of a goat in one whack and two jumps was
+not only a lesson in condensed conversation, but furnished a sight one
+rarely forgot--the goat never!
+
+This morning the situation was reversed. It was Aunt Jemima who came
+flying upstairs, her eyes popping from her head, her plump hands
+flattened against her big, heaving bosom, her breath gone in the effort
+to tell her dreadful news before she should drop dead.
+
+"Marse George! who d'ye think's downstairs?" she gasped, bursting in the
+door of his bedroom, without even the customary tap. "Oh, bless Gawd!
+dat you'se outen dat bed! and dressed and tryin' yo' po' legs about the
+room. He's comin' up. Got a man wid him I ain't neber see befo'. Says
+he's a-lookin' fer somebody! Git in de closet an' I'll tell him you'se
+out an' den I'll run an' watch for Marse Harry at de gate. Oh, I doan'
+like dis yere bus'ness," and she began to wring her hands.
+
+St. George, who had been listening to the old woman with mingled
+feelings of wonder and curiosity, raised his hand to silence her.
+Whether she had gone daft or was more than usually excited he could not
+for the moment decide.
+
+"Get your breath, Jemima, and tell me what you're talking about. Who's
+downstairs?"
+
+"Ain't I jes' don' tol' yer? Got a look on him make ye shiver all over;
+says he's gwineter s'arch de house. He's got a constable wid him--dat
+is, he's got a man dat looks like a constable, an'--"
+
+St. George laid his hands on the old woman's shoulders, and turned her
+about.
+
+"Hush your racket this instant, and tell me who is downstairs?"
+
+"Marse Talbot Rutter," she wheezed; "come f'om de country--got mud all
+ober his boots."
+
+"Mr. Harry's father?"
+
+Aunt Jemima choked and nodded: there was no breath left for more.
+
+"Who did he ask for?" St. George was calm enough now.
+
+"Didn't ask fer nobody; he say, 'I'm lookin' fer a man dat come in yere
+las' night.' I see he didn't know me an' I neber let on. Den he say,
+'Hab you got any boa'ders yere?' an' I say, 'I got one,' an' den he
+'tempted ter pass me an' I say, 'Wait a minute 'til I see ef he's outen
+de bed.' Now, what's I gwineter do? He doan' mean no good to Marse Harry
+an' he'll dribe him 'way ag'in, an' he jes' come back an' you gittin'
+well a-lovin' of him--an'--"
+
+An uncertain step was heard in the hall.
+
+"Dat's him," Jemima whispered hoarsely, behind her hand, "what'll I do?
+Doan' let him come in. I'll--"
+
+St. George moved past her and pushed back the door.
+
+Colonel Rutter stood outside.
+
+The two men looked into each other's faces.
+
+"I am in search, sir," the colonel began, shading his eyes with his
+fingers, the brighter light of the room weakening his sight, "for a
+young sailor whom I am informed stopped here last night, and who... ST.
+GEORGE! What in the name of God are you doing in a place like this?"
+
+"Come inside, Talbot," Temple replied calmly, his eyes fixed on Rutter's
+drawn face and faltering gaze. "Aunt Jemima, hand Colonel Rutter a
+chair. You will excuse me if I sit down--I am just out of bed after
+a long illness, and am a little weak," and he settled slowly into his
+seat. "My servant tells me that you are looking for a--"
+
+St. George paused. Rutter was paying no more attention to what he said
+than if he had been in the next room. He was straining his eyes about
+the apartment; taking in the empty bed from which St. George had just
+arisen, the cheap chairs and small pine table and the kitchen plates and
+cup which still held the remains of St. George's breakfast. He waited
+until Jemima had backed out of the door, her scared face still a tangle
+of emotions--fear for her master's safety uppermost. His eyes again
+veered to St. George.
+
+"What does it all mean, Temple?" he asked in a dazed way.
+
+"I don't think that subject is under discussion, Talbot, and we will,
+therefore, pass it. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"
+
+"Don't be a damned fool, St. George! Don't you see I'm half crazy? Harry
+has come back and he is hiding somewhere in this neighborhood."
+
+"How do you know?" he inquired coolly. He did not intend to help Rutter
+one iota in his search until he found out why he wanted Harry. No more
+cursing of either his son or himself--that was another chapter which was
+closed.
+
+"Because I've been hunting for him all day. He rode out to Moorlands
+yesterday, and I didn't know him, he's so changed. But think of it! St.
+George, I ordered him out of my office. I took him for a road-peddler.
+And he's going to sea again--he told Alec as much. I tell you I have got
+to get hold of him! Don't sit there and stare at me, man! tell me where
+I can find my son!"
+
+"What made you suppose he was here, Talbot?" The same cool, measured
+speech and manner, but with a more open mind behind it now. The pathetic
+aspect of the man, and the acute suffering shown in every tone of his
+voice, had begun to tell upon the invalid.
+
+"Because a man I've got downstairs brought Harry here last night. He is
+not positive, as it was quite dark, but he thinks this is the place.
+I went first to the Barkeley Line, found they had a ship in--the
+Mohican--and saw the captain, who told me of a man who came aboard at
+Rio. Then I learned where he had put up for the night--a low sailors'
+retreat--and found this peddler who said he had sold Harry the silks
+which he offered me. He brought me here."
+
+"Well, I can't help you any. There are only two rooms--I occupy this and
+my old cook, Jemima, has the other. I have been here for over a month."
+
+"Here! in this God-forsaken place! Why, we thought you had gone to
+Virginia. That's why we have had no answers to our letters, and we've
+hunted high and low for you. Certainly you have heard about the Patapsco
+and what--"
+
+"I certainly have heard nothing, Talbot, and as I have just told you,
+I'd rather you would not discuss my affairs. The last time you saw
+fit to encroach upon them brought only bitterness, and I prefer not to
+repeat it. Anything you have to say about Harry I will gladly hear. Go
+on--I'm listening."
+
+"For God's sake, St. George, don't take that tone with me! If you knew
+how wretched I am you'd be sorry for me. I am a broken-down man! If
+Harry goes away again without my seeing him I don't want to live another
+day. When Alec came running back last night and told me that I had
+cursed my son to his face, I nearly went out of my mind. I knew when I
+saw Alec's anger that it was true, and I knew, too, what a brute I had
+been. I ran to Annie's room, took her in my arms, and asked her pardon.
+All night I walked my room; at daylight I rang for Alec, sent for
+Matthew, and he hooked up the carryall and we came in here. Annie wanted
+to come with me, but I wouldn't let her. I knew Seymour wasn't out
+of bed that early, and so I drove straight to the shipping office and
+waited until it was open, and I've been hunting for him ever since. You
+and I have been boys together, St. George--don't lay up against me all
+the insulting things I've said to you--all the harm I've done you! God
+knows I've repented of it! Will you forgive me, St. George, for the sake
+of the old days--for the sake of my boy to whom you have been a father?
+Will you give me your hand? What in the name of common sense should
+you and I be enemies for? I, who owe you more than I owe any man in the
+world! Will you help me?"
+
+St. George was staring now. He bent forward, gripped the arms of his
+chair for a better purchase, and lifted himself to his feet. There he
+stood swaying, Rutter's outstretched hand in both of his, his whole
+nature stirred--only one thought in his heart--to wipe out the past and
+bring father and son together.
+
+"Yes, Talbot--I'll forgive you and I'll help you--I have helped you!
+Harry will be here in a few minutes--I sent him out to get his beard
+shaved off--that's why you didn't know him."
+
+The colonel reeled and but for St. George's hand would have lost his
+balance. All the blood was gone from his cheeks. He tried to speak, but
+the lips refused to move. For an instant St. George thought he would
+sink to the floor.
+
+"You say--Harry... is here!" he stammered out at last, catching wildly
+at Temple's other hand to steady himself.
+
+"Yes, he came across Todd by the merest accident or he would have gone
+to the Eastern Shore to look me up. Listen!--that's his step now! Turn
+that door knob and hold out your hands to him, and after you've got your
+arms around him get down on your knees and thank your God that you've
+got such a son! I do, every hour I live!"
+
+The door swung wide and Harry strode in: his eyes glistening, his cheeks
+aglow.
+
+"Up, are you, and in your clothes!" he cried joyfully, all the freshness
+of the morning in his voice. "Well, that's something like! How do you
+like me now?--smooth as a marlinspike and my hair trimmed in the latest
+fashion, so old Bones says. He didn't know me either till he got clear
+down below my mouth and when my chin began to show he gave a--"
+
+He stopped and stared at his father, who had been hidden from sight by
+the swinging door. The surprise was so great that his voice clogged in
+his throat. Rutter stood like one who had seen an apparition.
+
+St. George broke the silence:
+
+"It's all right, Harry--give your father your hand."
+
+The colonel made a step forward, threw out one arm as if to regain his
+equilibrium and swayed toward a chair, his frame shaking convulsively,
+wholly unstrung, sobbing like a child. Harry sprang to catch him and
+the two sank down together--no word of comfort--only the mute appeal of
+touch--the brown hand wet with his father's tears.
+
+For some seconds neither spoke, then Rutter raised his head and looked
+into his son's face.
+
+"I didn't know it was you, Harry. I have been hunting you all day to ask
+your pardon." It was the memory of the last indignity he had heaped upon
+him that tortured him.
+
+"I knew you didn't, father."
+
+"Don't go away again, Harry, please don't, my son!" he pleaded,
+strangling the tears, trying to regain his self-control--tears had often
+of late moistened Rutter's lids. "Your mother can't stand it another
+year, and I'm breaking up--half blind. You won't go, will you?"
+
+"No--not right away, father--we'll talk of that later." He was still in
+the dark as to how it had come about. All he knew was that for the first
+time in all his life his father had asked his pardon, and for the first
+time in his life the barrier which held them apart had been broken down.
+
+The colonel braced himself in his seat in one supreme effort to get
+himself in hand. One of his boasts was that he had never lost his
+self-control. Harry rose to his feet and stood beside him. St. George,
+trembling from his own weakness, a great throb of thankfulness in his
+heart, had kept his place in his chair, his eyes turned away from the
+scene. His own mind had also undergone a change. He had always known
+that somewhere down in Talbot Rutter's heart--down underneath the
+strata of pride and love of power, there could be found the heart of
+a father--indeed he had often predicted to himself just such a coming
+together. It was the boy's pluck and manliness that had done it; a
+manliness free from all truckling or cringing. And then his tenderness
+over the man who had of all others in the world wronged him most! He
+could hardly keep his glad hands off the boy.
+
+"You will go home with me, of course, won't you, Harry?" He must ask
+his consent now--this son of his whom he had driven from his home and
+insulted in the presence of his friends at the club, and whom he could
+see was now absolutely independent of him--and what was more to the
+point absolutely his own master.
+
+"Yes, of course, I'll go home with you, father," came the respectful
+answer, "if mother isn't coming in. Did she or Alec say anything to you
+about it before you left?"
+
+"No, she isn't coming in to-day--I wouldn't let her. It was too early
+when I started. But that's not what I mean," he went on with increasing
+excitement. "I want you to go home with me and stay forever; I want to
+forget the past; I want St. George to hear me say so! Come and take your
+place at the head of the estate--I will have Gorsuch arrange the papers
+to-morrow. You and St. George must go back with me to-day. I have the
+large carryall--Matthew is with me--he stopped at the corner--he's there
+now."
+
+"That's very kind of you, father," Harry rejoined calmly, concealing as
+best he could his disappointment at not being able to see his mother.
+
+"Yes! of course you will go with me," his father continued in nervous,
+jerky tones. "Please send the servant for Matthew, my coachman, and have
+him drive up. As for you, St. George, you can't stay here another hour.
+How you ever got here is more than I can understand. Moorlands is the
+place for you both--you'll get well there. My carriage is a very easy
+one. Perhaps I had better go for Matthew myself."
+
+"No, don't move, Talbot," rejoined St. George in a calm firm voice
+wondering at Talbot's manner. He had never seen him like this. All
+his old-time measured talk and manner were gone; he was like some
+breathless, hunted man pleading for his life. "I'm very grateful to you
+but I shall stay here. Harry, will you kindly go for Matthew?"
+
+"Stay here!--for how long?" cried the colonel in astonishment, his
+glance following Harry as he left the room in obedience to his uncle's
+request.
+
+"Well, perhaps for the balance of the winter."
+
+"In this hole?" His voice had grown stronger.
+
+"Certainly, why not?" replied St. George simply, moving his chair so
+that his guest might see him the better. "My servants are taking care of
+me. I can pay my way here, and it's about the only place in which I can
+pay it, and I want to tell you frankly, Talbot, that I am very happy to
+be here--am very glad, really, to get such a place. No one could be more
+devoted than my Todd and Jemima--I shall never forget their kindness."
+
+"But you're not a pauper?" cried the colonel in some heat.
+
+"That was what you were once good enough to call me--the last time
+we met. The only change is that then I owed Pawson and that now I owe
+Todd," he replied, trying to repress a smile, as if the humor of the
+situation would overcome him if he was not careful. "Thank you very
+much, Talbot--and I mean every word of it--but I'll stay where I am, at
+least for the present."
+
+"But the bank is on its legs again," rebounded the colonel, ignoring all
+reference to the past, his voice gaining in volume.
+
+"So am I," laughed St. George, tapping his lean thighs with his
+transparent fingers--"on a very shaky pair of legs--so shaky that I
+shall have to go to bed again pretty soon."
+
+"But you're coming out all right, St. George!" Rutter had squared
+himself in his chair and was now looking straight at his host. "Gorsuch
+has written you half a dozen letters about it and not a word from you
+in reply. Now I see why. But all that will come out in time, I tell you.
+You're not going to stay here for an hour longer." His old personality
+was beginning to assert itself.
+
+"The future doesn't interest me, Talbot," smiled St. George in perfect
+good humor. "In my experience my future has always been worse than my
+past."
+
+"But that is no reason why you shouldn't go home with me now and let us
+take care of you," Rutter cried in a still more positive tone. "Annie
+will be delighted. Stay a month with me--stay a year. After what I owe
+you, St. George, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."
+
+"You have already done it, Talbot--every obligation is wiped out,"
+rejoined St. George in a satisfied tone.
+
+"How?"
+
+"By coming here and asking Harry's pardon--that is more to me than all
+the things I have ever possessed," and his voice broke as he thought
+of the change that had taken place in Harry's fortunes in the last half
+hour.
+
+"Then come out to Moorlands and let me prove it!" exclaimed the colonel,
+leaning forward in his eagerness and grasping St. George by the sleeve.
+
+"No," replied St. George in appreciative but positive tones--showing his
+mind was fully made up. "If I go anywhere I'll go back to my house on
+Kennedy Square--that is to the little of it that is still mine. I'll
+stay there for a day or two, to please Harry--or until they turn me out
+again, and then I'll come back here. Change of air may do me good, and
+besides, Jemima and Todd should get a rest."
+
+The colonel rose to his feet: "You shall do no such thing!" he exploded.
+The old dominating air was in full swing now. "I tell you you WILL come
+with me! Damn you, St. George!--if you don't I'll never speak to you
+again, so help me, God!"
+
+St. George threw back his head and burst into a roar of laughter in
+which, after a moment of angry hesitation, Rutter joined. Then he
+reached down and with his hand on St. George's shoulder, said in a
+coaxing tone--"Come along to Moorlands, old fellow--I'd be so glad to
+have you, and so will Annie, and we'll live over the old days."
+
+Harry's re-entrance cut short the answer.
+
+"No father," he cried cheerily, taking up the refrain. He had seen the
+friendly caress and had heard the last sentence. "Uncle George is still
+too ill, and too weak for so long a drive. It's only the excitement over
+my return that keeps him up now--and he'll collapse if we don't look
+out--but he'll collapse in a better place than this!" he added with
+joyous emphasis. "Todd is outside, the hack is at the gate, and Jemima
+is now waiting for him in his old room at home. Give me your arm, you
+blessed old cripple, and let me help you downstairs. Out of the way,
+father, or he'll change his mind and I'll have to pick him up bodily and
+carry him."
+
+St. George shot a merry glance at Harry from under his eyebrows, and
+with a wave of his hand and a deprecating shake of his head at the
+colonel said:
+
+"These rovers and freebooters, Talbot, have so lorded it over their
+serfs that they've lost all respect for their betters. Give me your
+hand, you vagabond, and if you break my neck I'll make you bury me."
+
+The colonel looked on silently and a sharp pain gripped his throat.
+When, in all his life, had he ever been spoken to by his boy in that
+spirit, and when in all his life had he ever seen that same tenderness
+in Harry's eyes? What had he not missed?
+
+"Harry, may I make a suggestion?" he asked almost apologetically. The
+young fellow turned his head in respectful attention: "Put St. George in
+my carriage--it is much more comfortable--and let me drive him home--my
+eyes are quite good in the daytime, after I get used to the light, and
+I am still able to take the road. Then put your servant and mine in the
+hack with St. George's and your own luggage."
+
+"Capital idea!" cried Harry enthusiastically "I never thought of it!
+Attention company! Eyes to the front, Mr. Temple! You'll now remain on
+waiting orders until I give you permission to move, and as this may take
+some time--please hold on to him, father, until I get his chair" (they
+were already out on the landing--on the very plank where Harry had
+passed the night) "you'll go back to your quarters... Here sir, these
+are your quarters," and Harry dragged the chair into position with his
+foot. "Down with you... that's it... and you will stay here until the
+baggage and hospital train arrives, when you'll occupy a front seat in
+the van--and there will be no grumbling or lagging behind of any kind,
+remember, or you'll get ten days in the calaboose!"
+
+
+Pawson was on the curbstone, his face shining, his semaphore arms and
+legs in action, his eyes searching the distance, when the two vehicles
+came in sight. He had heard the day boat was very late, and as there
+had been a heavy fog over night, did not worry about the delay in their
+arrival.
+
+What troubled him more was the change in Mr. Temple's appearance. He had
+gone away ruddy, erect, full of vigor and health, and here he was being
+helped out of the carriage, pale, shriveled, his eyes deep set in his
+head. His voice, though, was still strong if his legs were shaky, and
+there seemed also to be no diminution in the flow of his spirits. Wesley
+had kept that part of him intact whatever changes the climate had made.
+
+"Ah, Pawson--glad to see you!" the invalid called gaily extending
+his hand as soon as he stood erect on the sidewalk. "Back again, you
+see--these old derelicts bob up once in a while when you least expect
+them." And he wrung his hand heartily. "So the vultures, it seems, have
+not turned up yet and made their roost in my nest. Most kind of you to
+stay home and give up your business to meet me! You know Colonel Talbot
+Rutter, of Moorlands, I presume, and Mr. Harry Rutter--Of course you do!
+Harry has told me all about your midnight meeting when you took him
+for a constable, and he took you for a thief. No--please don't laugh,
+Pawson--Mr. Rutter is the worst kind of a thief. Not only has he stolen
+my heart because of his goodness to me, but he threatens to make off
+with my body. Give me your hand, Todd. Now a little lift on that rickety
+elbow and I reckon we can make that flight of steps. I have come down
+them so many times of late with no expectation of ever mounting them
+again that it will be a novelty to be sure of staying over night. Come
+in, Talbot, and see the home of my ancestors. I am sorry the Black
+Warrior is all gone--I sent Kennedy the last bottle some time ago--pity
+that vintage didn't last forever. Do you know, Talbot, if I had my way,
+I'd have a special spigot put in the City Spring labelled 'Gift of a
+once prominent citizen,' and supply the inhabitants with 1810--something
+fit for a gentleman to drink."
+
+They were all laughing now; the colonel carrying the pillows Todd had
+tucked behind the invalid's back, Harry a few toilet articles wrapped
+in paper, and Matthew his cane--and so the cortege crawled up the steps,
+crossed the dismantled dining-room--the colonel aghast at the change
+made in its interior since last he saw it--and so on to St. George's
+room where Todd and Jemima put him to bed.
+
+His uncle taken care of--(his father had kept on to Moorlands to tell
+his mother the good news)--Harry mounted the stairs to his old room,
+which Pawson had generously vacated.
+
+The appointments were about the same as when he left; time and poverty
+had wrought but few changes. Pawson, had moved in a few books and there
+was a night table beside the small bed with a lamp on it, showing that
+he read late; but the bureau and shabby arm-chair, and the closet,
+stripped now of the young attorney's clothes to make room for the
+wanderer's--(a scant, sorry lot)--were pretty much the same as Harry had
+found on that eventful night when he had driven in through the rain and
+storm beside his Uncle George, his father's anathemas ringing in his
+ears.
+
+Unconsciously his mind went back to the events of the day;--more
+especially to his uncle's wonderful vitality and the blissful change
+his own home-coming had wrought not only in his physique, but in his
+spirits. Then his father's shattered form, haggard face, and uncertain
+glance rose before him, and with it came the recollection of all that
+had happened during the previous hours: his father's brutal outburst
+in the small office and the marvellous effect produced upon him when he
+learned the truth from Alec's lips; his hurried departure in the gray
+dawn for the ship and his tracing him to Jemima's house. More amazing
+still was his present bearing toward himself and St. George; his
+deference to their wishes and his willingness to follow and not lead.
+Was it his ill-health that had brought about this astounding reformation
+in a man who brooked no opposition?--or had his heart really softened
+toward him so that from this on he could again call him father in the
+full meaning of the term? At this a sudden, acute pain wrenched his
+heart. Perhaps he had not been glad enough to see him--perhaps in his
+anxiety over his uncle he had failed in those little tendernesses which
+a returned prodigal should have shown the father who had held out his
+arms and asked his forgiveness. Why was he not more affected by the
+sight of his suffering. When he first saw his uncle he had not been able
+to keep the tears back--and yet his eyes were dry enough when he saw his
+father. At this he fell to wondering as to the present condition of the
+colonel's mind. What was he thinking of in that lonely drive. He must
+be nearing Moorlands by this time and Alec would meet him, and later the
+dear mother--and the whole story would be told. He could see her glad
+face--her eyes streaming tears, her heart throbbing with the joy of his
+return.
+
+
+And it is a great pity he could not have thus looked in upon the
+autocrat of Moorlands as he sat hunched up on the back seat of the
+carryall, his head bowed, the only spoken words being Matthew's cheery
+hastening of his horses. And it is even a greater pity that the son
+could not have searched as well the secret places of the man's heart:
+such clearings out of doubts and misgivings make for peace and good
+fellowship and righteousness in this world of misunderstanding.
+
+That a certain rest had come into Rutter's soul could be seen in his
+face--a peace that had not settled on his features for years--but, if
+the truth must be told, he was far from happy. Somehow the joy he had
+anticipated at the boy's home-coming had not been realized. With the
+warmth of Harry's grasp still lingering in his own and the tones of his
+voice still sounding in his ears, try as he might, he yet felt aloof
+from him--outside--far off. Something had snapped in the years they had
+been apart--something he knew could never be repaired. Where there had
+once been boyish love there was now only filial regard. Down in his
+secret soul he felt it--down in his secret soul he knew it! Worse than
+that--another had replaced him! "Come, you dear old cripple!"--he could
+hear the voice and see the love and joy in the boy's eyes as he shouted
+it out. Yes, St. George was his father now!
+
+Then his mind reverted to his former treatment of his son and for the
+hundredth time he reviewed his side of the case. What else could he have
+done and still maintain the standards of his ancestors?--the universal
+question around Kennedy Square, when obligations of blood and training
+were to be considered. After all it had only been an object lesson;
+he had fully intended to forgive him later on. When Harry was a boy he
+punished him as boys were punished; when he became a man he punished him
+as men were punished. But for St. George the plan would long since have
+worked. St. George had balked him twice--once at the club and once at
+his home in Kennedy Square, when he practically ordered him from the
+house.
+
+And yet he could not but admit--and at this he sat bolt upright in his
+seat--that even according to his own high standards both St. George and
+Harry had measured up to them! Rather than touch another penny of his
+uncle's money Harry had become an exile; rather than accept a penny from
+his enemy, St. George had become a pauper. With this view of the case
+fermenting in his mind--and he had not realized the extent of both
+sacrifices until that moment--a feeling of pride swept through him.
+It was HIS BOY and HIS FRIEND, who had measured up!--by suffering, by
+bodily weakness--by privation--by starvation! And both had manfully and
+cheerfully stood the test! It was the blood of the DeRuyters which had
+put courage into the boy; it was the blood of the cavaliers that had
+made Temple the man he was. And that old DeRuyter blood! How it had told
+in every glance of his son's eyes and every intonation of his voice! If
+he had not accumulated a fortune he would--and that before many years
+were gone. But!--and here a chill went through him. Would not this
+still further separate them, and if it did how could he restore in the
+shortest possible time the old dependence and the old confidence? His
+efforts so far had met with almost a rebuff, for Harry had shown no
+particular pleasure when he told him of his intention to put him in
+charge of the estate: he had watched his face closely for a sign of
+satisfaction, but none had come. He had really seemed more interested
+in getting St. George downstairs than in being the fourth heir of
+Moorlands--indeed, it was very evident that he had no thought for
+anybody or anything except St. George.
+
+All this the son might have known could he have sat by his father in the
+carryall on this way to Moorlands.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+
+The sudden halting of two vehicles close to the horse-block of the
+Temple Mansion--one an aristocratic carryall driven by a man in livery,
+and the other a dilapidated city hack in charge of a negro in patched
+overcoat and whitey-brown hat, the discharge of their inmates, one of
+whom was Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands carrying two pillows,
+and another a strange young man loaded down with blankets--the slow
+disembarking of a gentleman in so wretched a state of health that he
+was practically carried up the front steps by his body-servant, and the
+subsequent arrival of Dr. Teackle on the double quick--was a sight so
+unusual in and around peaceful Kennedy Square that it is not surprising
+that all sorts of reports--most of them alarming--reached the club long
+before St. George had been comfortably tucked away in bed.
+
+Various versions were afloat: "St. George was back from Wesley with a
+touch of chills and fever--" "St. George was back from Wesley with
+a load of buckshot in his right arm--" "St. George had broken his
+collar-bone riding to hounds--" etc.
+
+Richard Horn was the first to spring to his feet--it was the afternoon
+hour and the club was full--and cross the Square on the run, followed by
+Clayton, Bowman, and two or three others. These, with one accord, banged
+away on the knocker, only to be met by Dr. Teackle, who explained that
+there was nothing seriously the matter with Mr. Temple, except an attack
+of foolhardiness in coming up the bay when he should have stayed in
+bed--but even that should cause his friends no uneasiness, as he was
+still as tough as a lightwood knot, and bubbling over with good humor;
+all he needed was rest, and that he must have--so please everybody come
+to-morrow.
+
+By the next morning the widening of ripples caused by the dropping of
+a high-grade invalid into the still pool of Kennedy Square, spread
+with such force and persistency that one wavelet overflowed Kate's
+dressing-room. Indeed, it came in with Mammy Henny and her coffee.
+
+"Marse George home, honey--Ben done see Todd. Got a mis'ry in his back
+dat bad it tuk two gemmens to tote him up de steps."
+
+"Uncle George home, and ill!"
+
+That was enough for Kate. She didn't want any coffee--she didn't want
+any toast or muffins, or hominy--she wanted her shoes and stockings
+and--Yes everything, and quick!--and would Mammy Henny call Ben and send
+him right away to Mr. Temple's and find out how her dear Uncle George
+had passed the night, and give him her dearest love and tell him she
+would come right over to see him the moment she could get into her
+clothes; and could she send anything for him to eat; and did the doctor
+think it was dangerous--? Yes--and Ben must keep on to Dr. Teackle's and
+find out if it was dangerous--and say to him that Miss Seymour wanted
+to know IMMEDIATELY, and--(Here the poor child lost her breath, she was
+dressing all the time, Mammy Henny's fingers and ears doing their best)
+"and tell Mr. Temple, too," she rushed on, "that he must send word by
+Ben for ANYTHING and EVERYTHING he needed" (strong accent on the two
+words)... all of which was repeated through the crack of the door to
+patient Ben when he presented himself, with the additional assurance
+that he must tell Mr. Temple it wouldn't be five minutes before she
+would be with him--as she was nearly dressed, all but her hair.
+
+She was right about her good intentions, but she was wrong about the
+number of minutes necessary to carry them out. There was her morning
+gown to button, and her gaiters to lace, and her hair to be braided and
+caught up in her neck (she always wore it that way in the morning) and
+the dearest of snug bonnets--a "cabriolet" from Paris--a sort of hood,
+stiffened with wires, out of which peeped pink rosebuds quite as they
+do from a trellis--had to be put on, and the white strings tied "just
+so"--the bows flaring out and the long ends smoothed flat; and then the
+lace cape and scarf and her parasol;--all these and a dozen other little
+niceties had to be adjusted before she could trip down her father's
+stairs and out of her father's swinging gate and on through the park to
+her dear Uncle George.
+
+But when she did--and it took her all of an hour--nothing that the
+morning sun shone on was quite as lovely, and no waft of air so
+refreshing or so welcome as our beloved heroine when she burst in upon
+him.
+
+"Oh!--you dear, DEAR thing!" she cried, tossing her parasol on Pawson's
+table and stretching out her arms toward him sitting in his chair. "Oh,
+I am so sorry! Why didn't you let me know you were ill? I would have
+gone down to Wesley. Oh!--I KNEW something was the matter with you or
+you would have answered my letters."
+
+He had struggled to his feet at the first sound of her footsteps in
+the hall, and had her in his arms long before she had finished her
+greeting;--indeed her last sentence was addressed to the collar of his
+coat against which her cheek was cushioned.
+
+"Who said I was ill?" he asked with one of his bubbling laughs when he
+got his breath.
+
+"Todd told Ben--and you ARE!--and it breaks my heart." She was holding
+herself off now, scanning his pale face and shrunken frame--"Oh, I am so
+sorry you did not let me know!"
+
+"Todd is a chatterer, and Ben no better; I've only had a bad cold--and
+you couldn't have done me a bit of good if you had come--and now I am
+entirely well, never felt better in my life. Oh--but it's good to get
+hold of you, Kate,--and you are still the same bunch of roses. Sit down
+now and tell me all about it. I wish I had a better chair for you, my
+dear, but the place is quite dismantled, as you see. I expected to stay
+the winter when I left."
+
+She had not given a thought to the chair or to the changes--had not even
+noticed them. That the room was stripped of its furniture prior to a
+long stay was what invariably occurred in her own house every summer:
+it was her precious uncle's pale, shrunken face and the blue veins that
+showed in the backs of his dear transparent hands which she held between
+her own, and the thin, emaciated wrists that absorbed her.
+
+"You poor, dear Uncle George!" she purred--"and nobody to look after
+you." He had drawn up Pawson's chair and had placed her in it beside the
+one he sat in, and had then dropped slowly into his own, the better to
+hide from her his weakness--but it did not deceive her. "I'm going to
+have you put back to bed this very minute; you are not strong enough to
+sit up. Let me call Aunt Jemima."
+
+St. George shook his head good-naturedly in denial and smoothed her
+hands with his fingers.
+
+"Call nobody and do nothing but sit beside me and let me look into your
+face and listen to your voice. I have been pretty badly shaken up; had
+two weeks of it that couldn't have been much worse--but since then I
+have been on the mend and am getting stronger every minute. I haven't
+had any medicine and I don't want any now--I just want you and--" he
+hesitated, and seeing nothing in her eyes of any future hope for Harry,
+finished the sentence, with "and one or two others to sit by me and
+cheer me up; that's better than all the doctors in the world. And now,
+first about your father and then about yourself."
+
+"Oh, he's very well," she rejoined absently. "He's off somewhere, went
+away two days ago. He'll be back in a week. But you must have something
+to eat--GOOD things!"--her mind still occupied with his condition. "I'm
+going to have some chicken broth made the moment I get home and it will
+be sent fresh every day: and you must eat every bit of it!"
+
+Again St. George's laugh rang out. He had let her run on--it was music
+to his ears--that he might later on find some clue on which he could
+frame a question he had been revolving in his mind ever since he heard
+her voice in the hall. He would not tell her about Harry--better wait
+until he could read her thoughts the clearer. If he could discover by
+some roundabout way that she would still refuse to see him it would be
+best not to embarrass her with any such request; especially on this her
+first visit.
+
+"Yes--I'll eat anything and everything you send me, you dear Kate--and
+many thanks to you, provided you'll come with it--you are the best broth
+for me. But you haven't answered my question--not all of it. What have
+YOU been doing since I left?"
+
+"Wondering whether you would forgive me for the rude way in which I left
+you the last time I saw you,--the night of Mr. Horn's reading, for one
+thing. I went off with Mr. Willits and never said a word to you. I wrote
+you a letter telling you how sorry I was, but you never answered it, and
+that made me more anxious than ever."
+
+"What foolishness, Kate! I never got it, of course, or you would have
+heard from me right away. A number of my letters have gone astray of
+late. But I don't remember a thing about it, except that you walked off
+with your--" again he hesitated--"with Mr. Willits, which, of course,
+was the most natural thing for you to do in the world. How is he, by the
+way?"
+
+Kate drew back her shoulders with that quick movement common to her when
+some antagonism in her mind preceded her spoken word.
+
+"I don't know--I haven't seen him for some weeks."
+
+St. George started in his chair: "You haven't! He isn't ill, is he?"
+
+"No, I think not," she rejoined calmly.
+
+"Oh, then he has gone down to his father's. Yes, I remember he goes
+quite often," he ventured.
+
+"No, I think he is still here." Her gaze was on the window as she spoke,
+through which could be seen the tops of the trees glistening in the
+sunlight.
+
+"And you haven't seen him? Why?" asked St. George wonderingly--he was
+not sure he had heard her aright.
+
+"I told him not to come," she replied in a positive tone.
+
+St. George settled back in his chair. Had there been a clock in the room
+its faintest tick would have rung out like a trip-hammer.
+
+"Then you have had a quarrel: he has broken his promise to you and got
+drunk again."
+
+"No, he has never broken it; he has kept it as faithfully as Harry kept
+his."
+
+"You don't mean, Kate, that you have broken off your engagement?"
+
+She reached over and picked up her parasol: "There never was any
+engagement. I have always felt sorry for Mr. Willits and tried my best
+to love him and couldn't--that is all. He understands it perfectly; we
+both do. It was one of the things that couldn't be."
+
+All sorts of possibilities surged one after the other through the old
+diplomat's mind. A dim light increasing in intensity began to shine
+about him. What it meant he dared not hope. "What does your father say?"
+he asked slowly, after a pause in which he had followed every expression
+that crossed her face.
+
+"Nothing--and it wouldn't alter the case if he did. I am the best judge
+of what is good for me." There was a certain finality in her cadences
+that repelled all further discussion. He remembered having heard the
+same ring before.
+
+"When did all this happen?--this telling him not to come?" he persisted,
+determined to widen the inquiry. His mind was still unable to fully
+grasp the situation.
+
+"About five weeks ago. Do you want to know the very night?" She turned
+her head as she spoke and looked at him with her full, deep eyes.
+
+"Yes, if you wish me to."
+
+"The night Mr. Horn read 'The Cricket on the Hearth,'" she answered in a
+tone of relief--as if some great crisis had marked the hour, the passing
+of which had brought her infinite peace. "I told him when I got home,
+and I have never seen him since."
+
+For some seconds St. George did not move. He had turned from her and sat
+with his head resting on his hand, his eyes intent on the smouldering
+fire: he dare not trust himself to speak; wide ranges opened before him;
+the light had strengthened until it was blinding. Kate sat motionless,
+her hands in her lap, her eyes searching St. George's face for some
+indication of the effect of her news. Then finding him still silent and
+absorbed in his thoughts, she went on:
+
+"There was nothing else to do, Uncle George. I had done all I could to
+please my father and one or two of my friends. There was nothing against
+him--he was very kind and very considerate--but somehow I--" She paused
+and drew a long breath.
+
+"Somehow what?" demanded St. George raising his head quickly and
+studying her the closer. The situation was becoming vital now--too vital
+for any further delay.
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I couldn't love him--that's all. He has many
+excellent qualities--too many maybe," and she smiled faintly. "You
+know I never liked people who were too good--that is, too willing to do
+everything you wanted them to do--especially men who ought really to
+be masters and--" She stopped and played with the top of her parasol,
+smoothing the knob with her palm as if the better to straighten out the
+tangle in her mind. "I expect you will think me queer, Uncle George, but
+I have come to the conclusion that I will never love anybody again--I
+am through with all that. It's very hard, you know, to mend a thing when
+it's broken. I used to say to myself that when I grew to be a woman I
+supposed I would love as any other woman seemed content to love; that
+no romance of a young girl was ever realized and that they could only be
+found in love stories. But my theories all went to pieces when I heard
+Mr. Horn that night. Dot's love for John the Carrier--I have read it so
+often since that I know the whole story by heart--Dot's love for John
+was the real thing, but May Fielding's love for Tackleton wasn't. And
+it seemed so wonderful when her lover came home and--it's foolish, I
+know--very silly--that I should have been so moved by just the reading
+of a story--but it's true. It takes only a very little to push you over
+when you are on the edge, and I had been on the edge for a long time.
+But don't let us talk about it, dear Uncle George," she added with a
+forced smile. "I'm going to take care of you now and be a charming old
+maid with side curls and spectacles and make flannel things for the
+poor--you just wait and see what a comfort I will be." Her lips were
+trembling, the tears crowding over the edges of her lids.
+
+St. George stretched out his hand and in his kindest voice said:
+
+"Was it the carrier and his wife, or was it the sailor boy who came back
+so fine and strong, that affected you, Kate?--and made you give up Mr.
+Willits?" He would go to the bottom now.
+
+"It was everything, Uncle George--the sweetness of it all--her pride in
+her husband--his doubts of her--her repentance; and yet she did what she
+thought was for the best; and then his forgiveness and the way he wanted
+to take her in his arms at last and she would not until she explained.
+And there was nothing really to explain--only love, and trust, and
+truth--all the time believing in him--loving him. Oh, it is cruel
+to part people--it's so mean and despicable! There are so many
+Tackletons--and the May Fieldings go to the altar and so on to their
+graves--and there is often such a very little difference between the
+two. I never gave my promise to Mr. Willits. I would not!--I could not!
+He kept hoping and waiting. He was very gentle and patient--he never
+coaxed nor pleaded, but just--Oh, Uncle George!--let me talk it all
+out--I have nobody else. I missed you so, and there was no one who could
+understand, and you wouldn't answer my letters." She was crying softly
+to herself, her beautiful head resting on her elbow pillowed on the back
+of his chair.
+
+He leaned forward the closer: he loved this girl next best to Harry. Her
+sorrows were his own. Was it all coming out as he had hoped and prayed
+for? He could hardly restrain himself in his eagerness.
+
+"Did you miss anybody else, Kate?" There was a peculiar tenderness in
+his voice.
+
+She did not raise her head nor did she answer. St. George waited and
+repeated the question, Slipping his hand over hers, as he spoke.
+
+"It was the loneliness, Uncle George," she replied, evading his
+inference. "I tried to forget it all, and I threw open our house and
+gave parties and dances--hardly a week but there has been something
+going on--but nothing did any good. I have been--yes--wretchedly unhappy
+and--No, it will only distress you to hear it--don't let's talk any more
+about it. I won't let you go away again. I'll go away with you if you
+don't get better soon, anywhere you say. We'll go down to the White
+Sulphur--Yes--we'll go there. The air is so bracing--it wouldn't be a
+week before all the color would come back to your cheeks and you be as
+strong as ever."
+
+He was not listening. His mind was framing a question--one he must
+ask without committing himself or her. He was running a parallel,
+really--reading her heart by a flank movement.
+
+"Kate, dear?" He had regained his position although he still kept hold
+of her hand.
+
+"Yes, Uncle George."
+
+"Did you write to Harry, as I asked you?"
+
+"No, it wouldn't have done any good. I have had troubles enough of my
+own without adding any to his."
+
+"Were you afraid he would not answer it?"
+
+She lifted her head and tightened her fingers about his own, her wet
+eyes looking into his.
+
+"I was afraid of myself. I have never known my own mind and I don't know
+it now. I have played fast and loose with everybody--I can't bind up a
+broken arm and then break it again."
+
+"Wouldn't it be better to try?" he said softly.
+
+"No, I don't think so."
+
+St. George released her hand and settled back in his chair; his face
+grew grave. What manner of woman was this, and how could he reach the
+inner kernel of her heart? Again he raised his head and leaning forward
+took both her hands between his own.
+
+"I am going to tell you a story, Kate--one you have never heard--not
+all of it. When I was about your age--a little older perhaps, I gave
+my heart to a woman who had known me from a boy; with whom I had played
+when she was a child. I'm not going into the whole story, such things
+are always sad; nor will I tell you anything of the beginning of the
+three happy months of our betrothal nor of what caused our separation.
+I shall only tell you of the cruelty of the end. There was a
+misunderstanding--a quarrel--I begging her forgiveness on my knees. All
+the time her heart was breaking. One little word from her would have
+healed everything. Some years after that she married and her life still
+goes on. I am what you see."
+
+Kate looked at him with swimming eyes. She dimly remembered that she
+had heard that her uncle had had a love affair in his youth and that his
+sweetheart had jilted him for a richer man, but she had never known that
+he had suffered so bitterly over it. Her heart went out to him all the
+more.
+
+"Will you tell me who it was?" She had no right to ask; but she might
+comfort him the better if she knew.
+
+"Harry's mother."
+
+Kate dropped his hands and drew back in her seat.
+
+"You--loved--Mrs.--Rutter--and she--refused you for--Oh!--what a cruel
+thing to do! And what a fool she was. Now I know why you have been so
+good to Harry. Oh, you poor, dear Uncle George. Oh, to think that you
+of all men! Is there any one whose heart is not bruised and broken?" she
+added in a helpless tone.
+
+"Plenty of them, Kate--especially those who have been willing to stoop
+a little and so triumph. Harry has waited three years for some word from
+you; he has not asked for it, for he believes you have forgotten him;
+and then he was too much of a man to encroach upon another's rights.
+Does your breaking off with Mr. Willits alter the case in any
+way?--does it make any difference? Is this sailor boy always to be a
+wanderer--never to come home to his people and the woman he loves?"
+
+"He'll never come back to me, Uncle George," she said with a shudder,
+dropping her eyes. "I found that out the day we talked together in the
+park, just before he left. And he's not coming home. Father got a letter
+from one of his agents who had seen him. He was looking very well and
+was going up into the mountains--I wrote you about it. I am sorry you
+didn't get the letter--but of course he has written you too."
+
+"Suppose I should tell you that he would come back if he thought you
+would be glad to see him--glad in the old way?"
+
+Kate shook her head: "He would never come. He hates me, and I don't
+blame him. I hate myself when I think of it all."
+
+"But if he should walk in now?"--he was very much afraid he would, and
+he was not quite ready for him yet. What he was trying to find out
+was not whether Kate would be glad to see Harry as a relief to her
+loneliness, but whether she really LOVED him.
+
+Some tone in his voice caught her ear. She turned her head quickly
+and looked at him with wondering gaze, as if she would read his inmost
+thoughts.
+
+"You mean that he is coming, Uncle George--that Harry IS coming home!"
+she exclaimed excitedly, the color ebbing from her cheeks.
+
+"He is already here, Kate. He slept upstairs in his old room last night.
+I expect him in any minute."
+
+"Here!--in this room!" She was on her feet in an instant, her face
+deathly pale, her whole frame shaking. Which way should she turn to
+escape? To meet him face to face would bring only excruciating pain.
+"Oh, why didn't you tell me, Uncle George!" she burst out. "I won't
+see him! I can't!--not now--not here! Let me go home--let me think!
+No--don't stop me!" and catching up her cape and parasol she was out the
+door and down the steps before he could call her back or even realize
+that she had gone.
+
+Once on the pavement she looked nervously up and down the street,
+gathered her pretty skirts tight in her hand and with the fluttered
+flight of a scared bird darted across the park, dashed through her
+swinging gate, and so on up to her bedroom.
+
+There she buried her face in Mammy Henny's lap and burst into an agony
+of tears.
+
+
+While all this had been going on upstairs another equally important
+conference was taking place in Pawson's office below, where Harry at
+Pawson's request had gone to meet Gadgem and talk over certain plans for
+his uncle's future welfare. He had missed Kate by one of those trifling
+accidents which often determine the destiny of nations and of men. Had
+he, after attending to the business of the morning--(he had been down to
+Marsh Market with Todd for supplies)--mounted the steps to see his uncle
+instead of yielding to a sudden impulse to interview Pawson first and
+his uncle afterward, he would have come upon Kate at the very moment she
+was pouring out her heart to St. George.
+
+But no such fatality or stroke of good fortune--whatever the gods had in
+store for him--took place. On the contrary he proceeded calmly to
+carry out the details of a matter of the utmost importance to all
+concerned--one in which both Pawson and Gadgem were interested--(indeed
+he had come at Pawson's suggestion to discuss its details with the
+collector and himself):--all of which the Scribe promises in all honor
+to reveal to his readers before the whole of this story is told.
+
+Harry walked straight up to Gadgem:
+
+"I am very glad to see you, Mr. Gadgem," he said in his manly, friendly
+way. "You have been very good to my uncle, and I want to thank you both
+for him and for myself," and he shook the little man's hand heartily.
+
+Gadgem blushed. St. George's democracy he could understand; but why this
+aristocrat--outcast as he had once been, but now again in favor--why
+this young prince, the heir to Moorlands and the first young blood of
+his time, should treat him as an equal, puzzled him; and yet, somehow,
+his heart warmed to him as he read his sincerity in his eyes and voice.
+
+"Thank you, sir--thank you very much, sir," rejoined Gadgem, with a
+folding-camp-stool-movement, his back bent at right angles with his
+legs. "I really don't deserve it, sir. Mr. Temple is an EXtraordinary
+man, sir; the most EXtraordinary man I have ever met, sir. Give you the
+shirt off his back, sir, and go NAked himself."
+
+"Yes, he gave it to me," laughed Harry, greatly amused at the
+collector's effusive manner: He had never seen this side of Gadgem.
+"That, of course, you know all about--you paid the bills, I believe."
+
+"PREcisely so, sir." He had lengthened out now with a spiral-spring,
+cork-screw twist in his body, his index finger serving as point. "Paid
+every one of them. He never cared, sir--he GLOried in it--GLOried in
+being a pauper. UNaccountable, Mr. Rutter--Enormously unaccountable.
+Never heard of such a case; never WILL hear of such a case. So what was
+to be done, sir? Just what I may state is being done this minute
+over our heads UPstairs": and out went the index finger. "Rest and
+REcuperation, sir--a slow--a very slow use of AVAILable assets until new
+and FURther AVAILable assets could become visible. And they are here,
+sir--have arRIVED. You may have heard, of course, of the Patapsco where
+Mr. Temple kept the largest part of his fortune."
+
+"No, except that it about ruined everybody who had anything to do with
+it."
+
+"Then you have heard nothing of the REsuscitation!" cried Gadgem, all
+his fingers opened like a fan, his eyebrows arched to the roots of his
+hair. "You surPRISE me! And you are really ignorant of the PHOEnix-like
+way in which it has RISen from its ashes? I said RISen, sir, because it
+is now but a dim speck in the financial sky. Nor the appointment of Mr.
+John Gorsuch as manager, ably backed by your DIStinguished father--the
+setting of the bird upon its legs--I'm speaking of the burnt bird, sir,
+the PHOEnix. I'm quite sure it was a bird--Nor the payment on the first
+of the ensuing month of some eighty per cent of the amounts due
+the ORIGinal depositors and another twenty per cent in one year
+thereafter--The cancelling of the mortgage which your most BEnevolent
+and HONorable father bought, and the sly trick of Gorsuch--letting
+Fogbin, who never turned up, become the sham tenant--and the joy--"
+
+"Hold on Mr. Gadgem--I'm not good at figures. Give me that over again
+and speak slower. Am I to understand that the bank will pay back to my
+uncle, within a day or so, three-quarters of the money they stole from
+him?"
+
+"STOLE, sir!" chided Gadgem, his outstretched forefinger wig-wagging
+a Fie! Fie! gesture of disapproval--"STOLE is not a pretty
+word--actionable, sir--DANgerously actionable--a question of the
+watch-house, and, if I might be permitted to say--a bit of COLD
+lead--Perhaps you will allow me to suggest the word 'maNIPulated,'
+sir--the money the bank maNIPulated from your confiding and
+inexperienced uncle--that is safer and it is equally EXpressive. He!
+He!"
+
+"Well, will he get the money?" cried Harry, his face lighting up, his
+interest in the outcome outweighing his amusement over Gadgem's antics
+and expressions.
+
+"He WILL, sir," rejoined Gadgem decisively.
+
+"And you are so sure of it that you would be willing to advance one-half
+the amount if the account was turned over to you this minute?" cried
+Harry eagerly.
+
+"No sir--not one-half--ALL of it--less a TRIfling commission for my
+services of say one per cent. When you say 'this minute,' sir, I must
+reply that the brevity of the area of action becomes a trifle ACUTE,
+yes, ALARMingly acute. I haven't the money myself, sir--that is, not
+about my person--but I can get it in an hour, sir--in less time, if Mr.
+Temple is willing. That was my purpose in coming here, sir--that was
+why Mr. Pawson sent for me, sir; and it is but fair to say that you can
+thank your DIStinguished father for it all, sir--he has worked night and
+day to do it. Colonel Rutter has taken over--so I am inFORMED--I'm not
+sure, but I am inFORMED--taken over a lot of the securities himself
+so that he COULD do it. Another EXtraordinary combination, if you will
+permit me to say so--I refer to your father--a man who will show you his
+door one minute and open his pocketbook and his best bottle of wine
+for you the next," and he plunged himself down in his seat with so
+determined a gesture that it left no question on Harry's mind that he
+intended sitting it out until daylight should there be the faintest
+possibility of his financial proposition being accepted.
+
+Harry walked to the window and gazed out on the trees. There was no
+doubt now that Mr. Temple was once more on his feet. "Uncle George will
+go now to Moorlands," he said, decisively, in a low tone, speaking to
+himself, his heart swelling with pride at this fresh evidence of
+his father's high sense of honor--then he wheeled and addressed the
+attorney:
+
+"Shall I tell Mr. Temple this news, about the Patapsco Bank, Mr.
+Pawson?"
+
+"Yes, if you think best, Mr. Rutter. And I have another piece of good
+news. This please do not tell Mr. Temple, not yet--not until it is
+definitely settled. That old suit in Chancery has been decided, or will
+be, so I learned this morning and decided in favor of the heir. You may
+not have heard of it before, Gadgem," and he turned to the collector,
+"but it is one of old General Dorsey Temple's left-overs. It has been
+in the courts now some forty years. When this decision is made binding,"
+here he again faced Harry--"Mr. Temple comes in for a considerable
+share."
+
+Gadgem jumped to his feet and snapped his fingers rapidly. Had he sat on
+a tack his rebound could not have been more sudden. This last was news
+to him.
+
+"SHORN lamb, sir!" he cried gleefully, rubbing his palms together,
+his body tied into a double bow-knot. "Gentle breezes; bread upon
+the waters! By jiminy, Mr. Rutter, if Mr. Temple could be born
+again--figuratively, sir--and I could walk in upon him as I once did,
+and find him at breakfast surrounded by all his comforts with Todd
+waiting upon him--a very good nigger is Todd, sir--an exCEPtionally
+good nigger--I'd--I'd--damn me, Mr. Rutter, I'd--well, sir, there's no
+word--but John Gadgem, sir--well, I'll be damned if he wouldn't--" and
+he began skipping about the room, both feet in the air, as if he was
+a boy of twenty instead of a thin, shambling, badly put together bill
+collector in an ill-fitting brown coat, a hat much the worse for wear,
+and a red cotton handkerchief addicted to weekly ablutions.
+
+As for Harry the glad news had cleared out wide spaces before him, such
+as he had not looked through in years; leafy vistas, with glimpses of
+sunlit meadows; shadow-flecked paths leading to manor-houses with summer
+skies beyond. He, too, was on his feet, walking restlessly up and down.
+
+Pawson and Gadgem again put their heads together, Harry stopping to
+listen. Such expressions as "Certainly," "I think I can": "Yes, of
+course it was there when I was last in his place," "Better see him
+first," caught his ear.
+
+At last he could stand it no longer. Dr. Teackle or no Dr. Teackle,
+he would go upstairs, open the door softly, and if his uncle was awake
+whisper the good news in his ear. If anybody had whispered any such
+similar good news in his ear on any one of the weary nights he had lain
+awake waiting for the dawn, or at any time of the day when he sat his
+horse, his rifle across the pommel, it would have made another man of
+him.
+
+If his uncle was awake!
+
+He was not only awake, but he was very much alive.
+
+"I've got a great piece of news for you, Uncle George!" Harry shouted
+in a rollicking tone, his joy increasing as he noted his uncle's renewed
+strength.
+
+"So have I got a great piece of news for you!" was shouted back. "Come
+in, you young rascal, and shut that door behind you. She isn't going to
+marry Willits. Thrown him over--don't want him--don't love him--can't
+love him--never did love him! She's just told me so. Whoop--hurrah! I
+Dance, you dog, before I throw this chair at you!!"
+
+There are some moments in a man's life when all language
+fails;--pantomime moments, when one stares and tries to speak and stares
+again. They were both at it--St. George waiting until Harry should
+explode, and Harry trying to get his breath, the earth opening under
+him, the skies falling all about his head.
+
+"She told you so! When!" he gasped.
+
+"Two minutes ago--you've just missed her! Where the devil have you been?
+Why didn't you come in before?"
+
+"Kate here--two minutes ago--what will I do?" Had he found himself at
+sea in an open boat with both oars adrift he could not have been more
+helpless.
+
+"DO! Catch her before she gets home! Quick!--just as you are--sailor
+clothes and all!"
+
+"But how will I know if--?"
+
+"You don't have to know! Away with you, I tell you!"
+
+And away he went--and if you will believe it, dear reader--without even
+a whisper in his uncle's ears of the good news he had come to tell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+
+Ben let him in.
+
+He came as an apparition, the old butler balancing the door in his hand,
+as if undecided what to do, trying to account for the change in the
+young man's appearance--the width of shoulders, the rough clothes, and
+the determined glance of his eye.
+
+"Fo' Gawd, it's Marse Harry!" was all he said when he could get his
+mouth open.
+
+"Yes, Ben--go and tell your mistress I am here," and he brushed past
+him and pushed back the drawing-room door. Once inside he crossed to the
+mantel and stood with his back to the hearth, his sailor's cap in his
+hand, his eyes fixed on the door he had just closed behind him. Through
+it would come the beginning or the end of his life. Ben's noiseless
+entrance and exit a moment after, with his mistress's message neither
+raised nor depressed his hopes. He had known all along she would not
+refuse to see him: what would come after was the wall that loomed up.
+
+She had not hesitated, nor did she keep him waiting. Her eyes were still
+red with weeping, her hair partly dishevelled, when Ben found her--but
+she did not seem to care. Nor was she frightened--nor eager. She just
+lifted her cheek from Mammy Henny's caressing hand--pushed back the
+hair from her face with a movement as if she was trying to collect her
+thoughts, and without rising from her knees heard Ben's message to the
+end. Then she answered calmly:
+
+"Did you say Mr. Harry Rutter, Ben? Tell him I'll be down in a moment."
+
+
+She entered with that same graceful movement which he loved so well--her
+head up, her face turned frankly toward him, one hand extended in
+welcome.
+
+"Uncle George told me you were back, Harry. It was very good of you to
+come," and sank on the sofa.
+
+It had been but a few steps to him--the space between the open door and
+the hearth rug on which he stood--and it had taken her but a few seconds
+to cross it, but in that brief interval the heavens had opened above
+her. The old Harry was there--the smile--the flash in the eyes--the joy
+of seeing her--the quick movement of his hand in gracious salute; then
+there had followed a sense of his strength, of the calm poise of his
+body, of the clearness of his skin. She saw, too, how much handsomer he
+had grown,--and noted the rough sailor's clothes. How well they fitted
+his robust frame! And the clear, calm eyes and finely cut features--no
+shrinking from responsibility in that face; no faltering--the old ideal
+of her early love and the new ideal of her sailor boy--the one Richard's
+voice had conjured--welded into one personality!
+
+"I heard you had just been in to see Uncle George, Kate, and I tried to
+overtake you."
+
+Not much: nothing in fact. Playwriters tell us that the dramatic
+situation is the thing, and that the spoken word is as unimportant
+to the play as the foot-lights--except as a means of illuminating the
+situation.
+
+"Yes--I have just left him, Harry. Uncle George looks very badly--don't
+you think so? Is there anything very serious the matter? I sent Ben to
+Dr. Teackle's, but he was not in his office."
+
+He had moved up a chair and sat devouring every vibration of her lips,
+every glance of her wondrous eyes--all the little movements of her
+beautiful body--her dress--the way the stray strands of hair had escaped
+to her shoulders. His Kate!--and yet he dare not touch her!
+
+"No, he is not ill. He took a severe cold and only needs rest and a
+little care. I am glad you went and--" then the pent-up flood broke
+loose. "Are you glad to see me, Kate?"
+
+"I am always glad to see you, Harry--and you look so well. It has been
+nearly three years, hasn't it?" Her calmness was maddening; she spoke as
+if she was reciting a part in which she had no personal interest.
+
+"I don't know--I haven't counted--not that way. I have lain awake too
+many nights and suffered too much to count by years. I count by--"
+
+She raised her hand in protest: "Don't Harry--please don't. All the
+suffering has not been yours!" The impersonal tone was gone--there was a
+note of agony in her voice.
+
+His manner softened: "Don't think I blame you, Kate. I love you too much
+to blame you--you did right. The suffering has only done me good--I am
+a different man from the one you once knew. I see life with a wider
+vision. I know what it is to be hungry; I know, too, what it is to
+earn the bread that has kept me alive. I came home to look after Uncle
+George. When I go back I want to take him with me. I won't count the
+years nor all the suffering I have gone through if I can pay him back
+what I owe him. He stood by me when everybody else deserted me."
+
+She winced a little at the thrust, as if he had touched some sore spot,
+sending a shiver of pain through her frame, but she did not defend
+herself.
+
+"You mustn't take him away, Harry--leave Uncle George to me," not as if
+she demanded it--more as if she was stating a fact.
+
+"Why not? He will be another man out in Brazil--and he can live there
+like a gentleman on what he will have left--so Pawson thinks."
+
+"Because I love him dearly--and when he is gone I have nobody left," she
+answered in a hopeless tone.
+
+Harry hesitated, then he asked: "And so what Uncle George told me about
+Mr. Willits is true?"
+
+Kate looked at him furtively--as if afraid to read his thoughts and for
+reply bowed her head in assent.
+
+"Didn't he love you enough?" There was a certain reproach in his tone,
+as if no one could love this woman enough to satisfy her.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What was the matter then? Was it--" He stopped--his eagerness had
+led him onto dangerous, if not discourteous, grounds. "No, you needn't
+answer--forgive me for asking--I had no right. I am not myself, Kate--I
+didn't mean to--"
+
+"Yes, I'll tell you. I told Uncle George. I didn't like him well
+enough--that's all." All this time she was looking him calmly in the
+face. If she had done anything to be ashamed of she did not intend to
+conceal it from her former lover.
+
+"And will Uncle George take his place now that he's gone? Do you ever
+know your own heart, Kate?" There was no bitterness in his question.
+Her frankness had disarmed him of that. It was more in the nature of an
+inquiry, as if he was probing for something on which he could build a
+hope.
+
+For a brief instant she made no answer; then she said slowly and with a
+certain positiveness:
+
+"If I had I would have saved myself and you a great deal of misery."
+
+"And Langdon Willits?"
+
+"No, he cannot complain--he does not--I promised him nothing. But I have
+been so beaten about, and I have tried so hard to do right; and it has
+all crumbled to pieces. As for you and me, Harry, let us both forget
+that we have ever had any differences. I can't bear to think that
+whenever you come home we must avoid each other. We were friends
+once--let us be friends again. It was very kind of you to come. I'm glad
+you didn't wait. Don't be bitter in your heart toward me."
+
+Harry left his chair and settled down on the sofa beside her, and in
+pleading, tender tones said:
+
+"Kate--When was I ever bitter toward you in my heart? Look at me! Do you
+realize how I love you?--Do you know it sets me half crazy to hear you
+talk like that? I haven't come here to-day to reproach you--I have come
+to do what I can to help you, if you want my help. I told you the last
+time we talked in the park that I wouldn't stay in Kennedy Square a day
+longer even if you begged me to. That is over now; I'll do now anything
+you wish me to do; I'll go or I'll stay. I love you too much to do
+anything else."
+
+"No, you don't love me!--you can't love me! I wouldn't let you love me
+after all the misery I have caused you! I didn't know how much until I
+began to suffer myself and saw Mr. Willits suffer. I am not worthy of
+any man's love. I will never trust myself again--I can only try to be to
+the men about me as Uncle George is to everyone. Oh, Harry!--Harry!--Why
+was I born this way--headstrong wilful--never satisfied? Why am I
+different from the other women?"
+
+He tried to take her hand, but she drew it away.
+
+"No!--not that!--not that! Let us be just as we were when--Just as we
+used to be. Sit over there where I can see you better and watch your
+face as you talk. Tell me all you have done--what you have seen and what
+sort of places you have been in. We heard from you through--"
+
+He squared his shoulders and faced her, his voice ringing clear, his
+eyes flashing: something of the old Dutch admiral was in his face.
+
+"Kate--I will have none of it! Don't talk such nonsense to me; I won't
+listen. If you don't know your own heart I know mine; you've GOT to love
+me!--you MUST love me! Look at me. In all the years I have been away
+from you I have lived the life you would have me live--every request you
+ever made of me I have carried out. I did this knowing you would never
+be my wife and you would be Willits's! I did it because you were my
+Madonna and my religion and I loved the soul of you and lived for you
+as men live to please the God they have never seen. There were days and
+nights when I never expected to see you or any one else whom I loved
+again--but you never failed--your light never went out in my heart.
+Don't you see now why you've got to love me? What was it you loved in
+me once that I haven't got now? How am I different? What do I lack?
+Look into my eyes--close--deep down--read my heart! Never, as God is my
+judge, have I done a thing since I last kissed your forehead, that you
+would have been ashamed of. Do you think, now that you are free, that I
+am going back without you? I am not that kind of a man."
+
+She half started from her seat: "Harry!" she cried in a helpless
+tone--"you do not know what you are saying--you must not--"
+
+He leaned over and took both her hands firmly in his own.
+
+"Look at me! Tell me the truth--as you would to your God! Do you love
+me?"
+
+She made an effort to withdraw her hands, then she sank back.
+
+"I--I--don't know--" she murmured.
+
+"YOU DO--search again--way down in your heart. Go over every day we have
+lived--when we were children and played together--all that horror at
+Moorlands when I shot Willits--the night of Mrs. Cheston's ball when
+I was drunk--all the hours I have held you in my arms, my lips to
+yours--All of it--every hour of it--balance one against the other. Think
+of your loneliness--not mine--yours--and then tell me you do not know!
+You DO know! Oh, my God, Kate!--you must love me! What else would you
+want a man to do for you that I have not done?"
+
+He stretched out his arms, but she sprang to her feet and put out her
+palms as a barrier.
+
+"No. Let me tell you something. We must have no more
+misunderstandings--you must be sure--I must be sure. I have no right to
+take your heart in my hands again. It is I who have broken my faith with
+you, not you with me. I was truly your wife when I promised you here on
+the sofa that last time. I knew then that you would, perhaps, lose your
+head again, and yet I loved you so much that I could not give you up.
+Then came the night of your father's ball and all the misery, and I was
+a coward and shut myself up instead of keeping my arms around you and
+holding you up to the best that was in you, just as Uncle George begged
+me to do. And when your father turned against you and drove you from
+your home, all because you had tried to defend me from insult, I saw
+only the disgrace and did not see the man behind it; and then you went
+away and I stretched out my arms for you to come back to me and only
+your words echoed in my ears that you would never come back to me until
+you were satisfied with yourself. Then I gave up and argued it out and
+said it was all over--"
+
+He had left his seat and at every sentence had tried to take her in his
+arms, but she kept her palms toward him.
+
+"No, don't touch me! You SHALL hear me out; I must empty all my heart!
+I was lonely and heart-sore and driven half wild with doubts and what
+people said, my father worse than all of them. And Mr. Willits was kind
+and always at my beck and call--and so thoughtful and attentive--and
+I tried and tried--but I couldn't. I always had you before me--and you
+haunted me day and night, and sometimes when he would come in that door
+I used to start, hoping it might be you."
+
+"It IS me, my darling!" he cried, springing toward her. "I don't want to
+hear any more--I must--I will--"
+
+"But you SHALL! There IS something more. It went on and on and I got so
+that I did not care, and one day I thought I would give him my promise
+and the next day all my soul rebelled against it and it was that way
+until one night Mr. Horn read aloud a story--and it all came over me and
+I saw everything plain as if it had been on a stage, and myself and you
+and Mr. Willits--and what it meant--and what would come of it--and he
+walked home with me and I told him frankly, and I have never seen him
+since. And now here is the last and you must hear it out. There is not
+a word I have said to him which I would recall--not a thing I am ashamed
+of. Your lips were the last that touched my own. There, my darling,
+it is all told. I love you with my whole heart and soul and mind and
+body--I have never loved anybody else--I have tried and tried and
+couldn't. I am so tired of thinking for myself,--so tired,--so tired.
+Take me and do with me as you will!"
+
+Again the plot is too strong for the dialogue. He had her fast in his
+arms before her confession was finished. Then the two sank on the sofa
+where she lay sobbing her heart out, he crooning over her--patting her
+cheeks, kissing away the tears from her eyelids; smoothing the strands
+of her hair with his strong, firm fingers. It was his Kate that lay in
+his grasp--close--tightly pressed--her heart beating against his, her
+warm, throbbing body next his own, her heart swept of every doubt and
+care, all her will gone.
+
+As she grew quiet she stretched up her hand, touching his cheek as if
+to reassure herself that it was really her lover. Yes! It was Harry--HER
+Harry--Harry who was dead and is alive again--to whom she had stripped
+her soul naked--and who still trusted and loved her.
+
+A little later she loosened herself from his embrace and taking his
+face in her small, white hands looked long and earnestly into his eyes,
+smoothing back the hair from his brow as she used to do; kissing him
+on the forehead, on each eyelid, and then on the mouth--one of their
+old-time caresses. Still remembering the old days, she threw back his
+coat and let her hands wander over his full-corded throat and chest
+and arms. How big and strong he had become! and how handsome he had
+grown--the boy merged into the man. And that other something! (and
+another and stronger thrill shot through her)--that other something
+which seemed to flow out of him;--that dominating force that betokened
+leadership, compelling her to follow--not the imperiousness of
+his father, brooking no opposition no matter at what cost, but the
+leadership of experience, courage, and self-reliance.
+
+With this the sense of possession swept over her. He was all her own and
+for ever! A man to lean upon; a man to be proud of; one who would listen
+and understand: to whom she could surrender her last stronghold--her
+will. And the comfort of it all; the rest, the quiet, the assurance of
+everlasting peace: she who had been so torn and buffeted and heart-sore.
+
+For many minutes she lay still from sheer happiness, thrilled by the
+warmth and pressure of his strong arms. At last, when another thought
+could squeeze itself into her mind, she said: "Won't Uncle George be
+glad, Harry?"
+
+"Yes," he answered, releasing her just far enough to look into her
+eyes. "It will make him well. You made him very happy this morning. His
+troubles are over, I hear--he's going to get a lot of his money back."
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad. And will we take him with us?" she asked wonderingly,
+smoothing back his hair as she spoke.
+
+"Take him where, darling?" he laughed.
+
+"To where we are going--No, you needn't laugh--I mean it. I don't care
+where we go," and she looked at him intently. "I'll go with you anywhere
+in the world you say, and I'll start to-morrow."
+
+He caught her again in his arms, kissed her for the hundredth time, and
+then suddenly relaxing his hold asked in assumed alarm: "And what about
+your father? What do you think he will say? He always thought me a
+madcap scapegrace--didn't he?" The memory brought up no regret. He
+didn't care a rap what the Honorable Prim thought of him.
+
+"Yes--he thinks so now," she echoed, wondering how anybody could have
+formed any such ideas of her Harry.
+
+"Well, he will get over it when I talk with him about his coffee people.
+Some of his agents out there want looking after."
+
+"Oh!--how lovely, my precious; talking coffee will be much pleasanter
+than talking me!--and yet we have got to do it somehow when he comes
+home."
+
+And down went her head again, she nestling the closer as if terrified at
+the thought of the impending meeting; then another kiss
+followed--dozens of them--neither of them keeping count, and then--and
+then--...................................
+
+And then--Ben tapped gently and announced that dinner was served, and
+Harry stared at the moon-faced dial and saw that it was long after two
+o'clock, and wondered what in the world had become of the four hours
+that had passed since he had rushed down from his uncle's and into
+Kate's arms.
+
+And so we will leave them--playing housekeeping--Harry pulling out
+her chair, she spreading her dainty skirts and saying "Thank you, Mr.
+Rutter--" and Ben with his face in so broad a grin that it got set
+that way--Aunt Dinah, the cook, having to ask him three times "Was he
+gwineter hab a fit" before he could answer by reason of the chuckle
+which was suffocating him.
+
+
+And now as we must close the door for a brief space on the happy
+couple--never so happy in all their lives--it will be just as well for
+us to find out what the mischief is going on at the club--for there is
+something going on--and that of unusual importance.
+
+Everybody is out on the front steps. Old Bowdoin is craning his short
+neck, and Judge Pancoast is saying that it is impossible and then
+instatly changing his mind, saying: "By jove it is!"--and Richard
+Horn and Warfield and Murdoch are leaning over the balcony rail still
+unconvinced and old Harding is pounding his fat thigh with his pudgy
+hand in ill-concealed delight.
+
+Yes--there is no doubt of it--hasn't been any doubt of it since the
+judge shouted out the glad tidings which emptied every chair in the
+club: Across the park, beyond the rickety, vine-covered fence and close
+beside the Temple Mansion, stands a four-in-hand, the afternoon sun
+flashing from the silver mountings of the harness and glinting on the
+polished body and wheels of the coach. Then a crack of the whip, a wind
+of the horn, and they are off--the leaders stretching the traces, two
+men on the box, two grooms in the rear. Hurrah! Well, by thunder, who
+would have believed it--that's Temple inside on the back seat! "There
+he is waving his hand and Todd is with him. And yes! Why of course it's
+Rutter! See him clear that curb! Not a man in this county can drive like
+that but Talbot."
+
+Round they come--the colonel straight as a whip--dusty-brown
+overcoat, flowers in his buttonhole--bell-crowned hat, brown driving
+gloves--perfectly appointed, even if he is a trifle pale and half blind.
+More horn--a long joyous note now, as if they were heralding the peace
+of the world, the colonel bowing like a grand duke as he passes the
+assembled crowd--a gathering of the reins together, a sudden pull-up
+at Seymours', everybody on the front porch--Kate peeping over Harry's
+shoulder--and last and best of all, St. George's cheery voice ringing
+out:
+
+"Where are you two sweethearts!" Not a weak note anywhere; regular
+fog-horn of a voice blown to help shipwrecked mariners.
+
+"All aboard for Moorlands, you turtle-doves--never mind your clothes,
+Kate--nor you either, Harry. Your father will send for them later. Up
+with you."
+
+"All true, Harry," called back the colonel from the top of the coach
+(nobody alighted but the grooms--there wasn't time--) "Your mother
+wouldn't wait another hour and sent me for you, and Teackle said St.
+George could go, and we bundled him up and brought him along and you are
+all going to stay a month. No, don't wait a minute, Kate; I want to get
+home before dark. One of my men will be in with the carryall and bring
+out your mammy and your clothes and whatever you want. Your father is
+away I hear, and so nobody will miss you. Get your heavy driving coat,
+my dear; I brought one of mine in for Harry--it will be cold before we
+get home. Matthew, your eyes are better than mine, get down and see
+what the devil is the matter with that horse. No, it's all right--the
+check-rein bothered him."
+
+And so ended the day that had been so happily begun, and the night was
+no less joyful with the mother's arms about her beloved boy and Kate
+on a stool beside her and Talbot and St. George deep in certain
+vintages--or perhaps certain vintages deep in Talbot and St.
+George--especially that particular and peculiar old Madeira of 1800,
+which his friend Mr. Jefferson had sent him from Monticello, and which
+was never served except to some such distinguished guest as his highly
+esteemed and well-beloved friend of many years, St. George Wilmot Temple
+of Kennedy Square.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+
+It would be delightful to describe the happy days at Moorlands during
+St. George's convalescence, when the love-life of Harry and Kate was
+one long, uninterrupted, joyous dream. When mother, father, and son were
+again united--what a meeting was that, once she got her arms around
+her son's neck and held him close and wept her heart out in
+thankfulness!--and the life of the old-time past was revived--a life
+softened and made restful and kept glad by the lessons all had learned.
+And it would be more delightful still to carry the record of these
+charming hours far into the summer had not St. George, eager to be under
+his own roof in Kennedy Square, declared he could stay no longer.
+
+Not that his welcome had grown less warm. He and his host had long since
+unravelled all their difficulties, the last knot having been cut the
+afternoon the colonel, urged on by Harry's mother--his disappointment
+over his sons's coldness set at rest by her pleadings--had driven into
+town for Harry in his coach, as has been said, and swept the whole
+party, including St. George, out to Moorlands.
+
+Various unrelated causes had brought about this much-to-be-desired
+result, the most important being the news of the bank's revival, which
+Harry, in his mad haste to overtake Kate, had forgotten to tell his
+uncle, and which St. George learned half an hour later from Pawson,
+together with a full account of what the colonel had done to bring about
+the happy result--a bit of information which so affected Temple that,
+when the coach with the colonel on the box had whirled up, he, weak
+as he was, had struggled to the front door, both hands held out, in
+welcome.
+
+"Talbot--old fellow," he had said with a tear in his voice, "I have
+misunderstood you and I beg your pardon. You've behaved like a man, and
+I thank you from the bottom of my heart!"
+
+At which the stern old aristocrat had replied, as he took St. George's
+two hands in his: "Let us forget all about it, St. George. I made a
+damned fool of myself. We all get too cocky sometimes."
+
+Then there had followed--the colonel listening with bated breath--St.
+George's account of Kate's confession and Harry's sudden exit, Rutter's
+face brightening as it had not done for years when he learned that Harry
+had not yet returned from the Seymours', the day's joy being capped by
+the arrival of Dr. Teackle, who had given his permission with an "All
+right--the afternoon is fine and the air will do Mr. Temple a world of
+good," and so St. George was bundled up and the reader knows the rest.
+
+Later on--at Moorlands of course--the colonel, whose eyes were getting
+better by the day and Gorsuch whose face was now one round
+continuous smile, got to work, and had a heart-to-heart--or rather a
+pocket-to-pocket talk--which was quite different in those days from what
+it would be now--after which both Kate and Harry threw to the winds
+all thoughts of Rio and the country contiguous thereto, and determined
+instead to settle down at Moorlands. And then a great big iron door sunk
+in a brick vault was swung wide and certain leather-bound books were
+brought out--and particularly a sum of money which Harry duly handed
+over to Pawson the next time he drove to town--(twice a week now)--and
+which, when recounted, balanced to a cent the total of the bills which
+Pawson had paid three years before, with interest added, a list of
+which the attorney still kept in his private drawer with certain other
+valuable papers tied with red tape, marked "St. G. W. T." And still
+later on--within a week--there had come the news of the final settlement
+of the long-disputed lawsuit with St. George as principal residuary
+legatee--and so our long-suffering hero was once more placed upon his
+financial legs: the only way he could have been placed upon them or
+would have been placed upon them--a fact very well known to every one
+who had tried to help him, his philosophy being that one dollar borrowed
+is two dollars owed--the difference being a man's self-respect.
+
+And it is truly marvellous what this change in his fortunes
+accomplished. His slack body rounded out; his sunken cheeks plumped
+up until every crease and crack were gone, his color regained its
+freshness, his eyes their brilliancy; his legs took on their old-time
+spring and lightness--and a wonderful pair of stand-bys, or stand-ups,
+or stand-arounds they were as legs go--that is legs of a man of
+fifty-five.
+
+And they were never idle, these legs: there was no sitting cross-legged
+in a chair for St. George: he was not constructed along those lines.
+Hardly a week had passed before he had them across Spitfire's mate; had
+ridden to hounds; danced a minuet with Harry and Kate; walked half-way
+to Kennedy Square and back--they thought he was going to walk all the
+way and headed him off just in time; and best of all--(and this is
+worthy of special mention)--had slipped them into the lower section of
+a suit of clothes--and these his own, although he had not yet paid for
+them--the colonel having liquidated their cost. These trousers, it is
+just as well to state, had arrived months before from Poole, along with
+a suit of Rutter's and the colonel had forwarded a draft for the
+whole amount without examining the contents, until Alec had called his
+attention to the absurd width of the legs--and the ridiculous spread of
+the seat. My Lord of Moorlands, after the scene in the Temple Mansion,
+dared not send them in to St. George, and they had accordingly lain ever
+since on top of his wardrobe with Alec as chief of the Moth Department.
+St. George, on his arrival, found them folded carefully and placed on
+a chair--Todd chief valet. Whereupon there had been a good-natured row
+when our man of fashion appeared at breakfast rigged out in all his
+finery, everybody clapping their hands and saying how handsome he
+looked--St. George in reply denouncing Talbot as a brigand of a Brummel
+who had stolen his clothes, tried to wear them, and then when out of
+fashion thrown them back on his hands.
+
+All these, and a thousand other delightful things, it would, I say, be
+eminently worth while to dilate upon--(including a series of whoops and
+hand-springs which Todd threw against the rear wall of the big kitchen
+five seconds after Alec had told him of the discomfiture of "dat
+red-haided gemman," and of Marse Harry's good fortune)--were it not that
+certain mysterious happenings are taking place inside and out of the
+Temple house in Kennedy Square--happenings exciting universal comment,
+and of such transcendent importance that the Scribe is compelled, much
+against his will--for the present installment is entirely too short--to
+confine their telling to a special chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+
+For some time back, then be it said, various strollers unfamiliar with
+the neighbors or the neighborhood of Kennedy Square, poor benighted folk
+who knew nothing of the events set down in the preceding chapters, had
+nodded knowingly to each other or shaken their pates deprecatingly over
+the passing of "another old landmark."
+
+Some of these had gone so far as to say that the cause could be found in
+the fact that Lawyer Temple had run through what little money his father
+and grandmother had left him; additional wise-acres were of the opinion
+that some out-of-town folks had bought the place and were trying to prop
+it up so it wouldn't tumble into the street, while one, more facetious
+than the others, had claimed that it was no wonder it was falling down,
+since the only new thing Temple had put upon it was a heavy mortgage.
+
+The immediate neighbors, however,--the friends of the house--had smiled
+and passed on. They had no such forebodings. On the contrary nothing so
+diverting--nothing so enchanting--had happened around Kennedy Square
+in years. In fact, when one of these humorists began speaking about
+it, every listener heard the story in a broad grin. Some of the more
+hilarious even nudged each other in the waist-coats and ordered another
+round of toddies--for two or three, or even five, if there were that
+number of enthusiasts about the club tables. When they were asked what
+it was all about they invariably shook their heads, winked, and kept
+still--that is, if the question were put by some one outside the magic
+circle of Kennedy Square.
+
+All the general public knew was that men with bricks in hods had been
+seen staggering up the old staircase with its spindle banisters and
+mahogany rail; that additional operatives had been discovered clinging
+to the slanting roof long enough to pass up to further experts grouped
+about the chimneys small rolls of tin and big bundles of shingles; that
+plasterers in white caps and aprons, with mortar-boards in one hand and
+trowels in the other, had been seen chinking up cracks; while any number
+of painters, carpenters, and locksmiths were working away for dear life
+all over the place from Aunt Jemima's kitchen to Todd's bunk under the
+roof.
+
+In addition to all this curious wagons had been seen to back up to the
+curb, from which had been taken various odd-looking bundles; these were
+laid on the dining-room floor, a collection of paint pots, brushes, and
+wads of putty being pushed aside to give them room--and with some haste
+too, for every one seemed to be working overtime.
+
+As to what went on inside the mansion itself not the most inquisitive
+could fathom: no one being permitted to peer even into Pawson's office,
+where so large a collection of household goods and gods were sprawled,
+heaped, and hung, that it looked as if there had been a fire in the
+neighborhood, and this room the only shelter for miles around. Even
+Pawson's law books were completely hidden by the overflow and so
+were the tables, chairs, and shelves, together with the two wide
+window-sills.
+
+Nor did it seem to matter very much to the young attorney as to how or
+at what hours of the day or night these several articles arrived. Often
+quite late in the evening--and this happened more than once--an old
+fellow, pinched and wheezy, would sneak in, uncover a mysterious object
+wrapped in a square of stringy calico, fumble in his pocket for a scrap
+of paper, put his name at the bottom of it, and sneak out again five,
+ten, or twenty dollars better off. Once, as late as eleven o'clock, a
+fattish gentleman with a hooked nose and a positive dialect, assisted
+another stout member of his race to slide a very large object from out
+the tail of a cart. Whereupon there had been an interchange of wisps of
+paper between Pawson and the fatter of the two men, the late visitors
+bowing and smiling until they reached a street lantern where they
+divided a roll of bank-notes between them.
+
+And the delight that Pawson and Gadgem took in it all!--assorting,
+verifying, checking off--slapping each other's backs in glee when some
+doubtful find was made certain, and growing even more excited on the
+days when Harry and Kate would drive or ride in from Moorlands--almost
+every day of late--tie the horse and carry-all, or both saddle-horses,
+to St. George's tree-boxes, and at once buckle on their armor.
+
+This, rendered into common prose, meant that Harry, after a prolonged
+consultation with Pawson and Gadgem, would shed his outer coat, the
+spring being now far advanced, blossoms out and the weather warm--and
+that Kate would tuck her petticoats clear of her dear little feet and
+go pattering round, her sleeves rolled up as far as they would go, her
+beautiful arms bare almost to her shoulders--her hair smothered in a
+brown barege veil to keep out the dust--the most bewitching parlor-maid
+you or anybody else ever laid eyes on. Then would follow such a carrying
+up of full baskets and carrying down of empty ones; such a spreading of
+carpets and rugs; such an arranging of china and glass; such a placing
+of andirons, fenders, shovels, tongs, and bellows; hanging of pictures,
+curtains, and mirrors--old and new; moving in of sofas, chairs, and
+rockers; making up of beds with fluted frills on the pillows--a silk
+patchwork quilt on St. George's bed and cotton counterpanes for Jemima
+and Todd!
+
+And the secrecy maintained by everybody! Pawson might have been stone
+deaf and entirely blind for all the information you could twist out of
+him--and a lot of people tried. And as to Gadgem--the dumbest oyster in
+Cherrystone Creek was a veritable magpie when it came to his giving the
+precise reason why the Temple Mansion was being restored from
+top to bottom and why all its old furniture, fittings, and
+trappings--(brand-new ones when they couldn't be found in the pawn shops
+or elsewhere)--were being gathered together within its four walls. When
+anybody asked Kate--and plenty of people did--she would throw her head
+back and laugh so loud and so merrily and so musically, that you would
+have thought all the birds in Kennedy Square park were still welcoming
+the spring. When you asked Harry he would smile and wink and perhaps
+keep on whispering to Pawson or Gadgem whose eyes were glued to a list
+which had its abiding place in Pawson's top drawer.
+
+Outside of these four conspirators--yes, six--for both Todd and Jemima
+were in it, only a very few were aware of what was really being done.
+The colonel of course knew, and so did Harry's mother--and so did old
+Alec who had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from snickering
+out loud at the breakfast table when he accidentally overheard what
+was going on--an unpardonable offence--(not the listening, but the
+laughing). In fact everybody in the big house at Moorlands knew, for
+Alec spread it broadcast in the kitchen and cabins--everybody EXCEPT ST.
+GEORGE.
+
+Not a word reached St. George--not a syllable. No one of the house
+servants would have spoiled the fun, and certainly no one of the great
+folks. It was only when his visit to Moorlands was over and he had
+driven into town and had walked up his own front steps, that the true
+situation in all its glory and brilliancy dawned upon him.
+
+The polished knobs, knocker, and the perfect level and whiteness of the
+marble steps first caught his eye; then the door swung open and Jemima
+in white apron and bandanna stood bowing to the floor, Todd straight as
+a ramrod in a new livery and a grin on his face that cut it in two, with
+Kate and Harry hidden behind them, suffocating from suppressed laughter.
+
+"Why, you dear Jemima! Howdy--... Why, who the devil sent that old
+table back, Todd, and the hall rack and--What!" Here he entered the
+dining-room. Everything was as he remembered it in the old days. "Harry!
+Kate!--Why--" then he broke down and dropped into a chair, his eyes
+still roaming around the room taking in every object, even the loving
+cup, which Mr. Kennedy had made a personal point of buying back from
+the French secretary, who was gracious enough to part with it when
+he learned the story of its enforced sale--each and every one of
+them--ready to spring forward from its place to welcome him!
+
+"So this," he stammered out--"is what you have kept me up at Moorlands
+for, is it? You never say a word to me--and--Oh, you children!--you
+children! Todd, did you ever see anything like it?--my guns--and the
+loving cup--and the clock, and--Come here you two blessed things and
+let me get my arms around you! Kiss me, Kate--and Harry, my son--give
+me your hand. No, don't say a word--don't mind me--I'm all knocked out
+and--"
+
+Down went his face in his hands and he in a heap in the chair; then he
+stiffened and gave a little shiver to his elbows in the effort to keep
+himself from going completely to pieces, and scrambled to his feet
+again, one arm around Kate's neck, his free hand in Harry's.
+
+"Take me everywhere and show me everything. Todd, go and find Mr. Pawson
+and see if Mr. Gadgem is anywhere around; they've had something to do
+with this"--here his eyes took in Todd--"You damned scoundrel, who the
+devil rigged you out in that new suit?"
+
+"Marse Harry done sont me to de tailor. See dem buttons?--but dey
+ain't nuthin' to what's on the top shelf--you'll bust yo'self wide open
+a-laughin', Marse George, when ye sees what's in dar--you gotter come
+wid me--please Mistis an' Marse Harry, you come too. Dis way--"
+
+Todd was full to bursting. Had his grin been half an inch wider his ears
+would have dropped off.
+
+"An' fore ye look at dem shelves der's annuder thing I gotter tell
+ye;--an' dat is dat the dogs--all fo' oh em is comin' in the mawnin'.
+Mister Floyd's coach-man done tole me so," and with a jerk and a whoop,
+completely ignoring his master's exclamation of joy over the return
+of his beloved setters, the darky threw back the door of the little
+cubby-hole of a room where the Black Warrior and his brethren had once
+rested in peace, and pointed to a row of erect black bottles backed by
+another of recumbent ones.
+
+"Look at dat wine, will ye, Marse George," he shouted, "all racked up on
+dern shelves? Dat come f'om Mister Talbot Rutter wid dis yere cyard--"
+and he handed it out.
+
+St. George reached over, took it from his hand, and read it aloud:
+
+"With the compliments of an old friend, who sends you herewith a few
+bottles of the Jefferson and some Sercial and old Port--and a basket or
+two of Royal Brown Sherry--nothing like your own, but the best he could
+scare up."
+
+Soon the newly polished and replated knocker began to get in its
+liveliest work: "Mrs. Richard Horn's compliments, and would St. George
+be pleased to accept a basket of Maryland biscuit and a sallylunn
+just out of the oven." Mrs. Bowdoin's compliments with three brace of
+ducks--"a little late in the season, my dear St. George, but they
+are just up from Currytuck where Mr. Bowdoin has had extremely good
+luck--for Mr. Bowdoin." "Mrs. Cheston's congratulations, and would Mr.
+Temple do her the honor of placing on his sideboard an old Accomack
+County ham which her cook had baked that morning and which should have
+all the charm and flavor of the State which had given him birth--"
+and last a huge basket of spring roses from Miss Virginia Clendenning,
+accompanied by a card bearing the inscription--"You don't deserve them,
+you renegade," and signed--"Your deserted and heart-broken sweetheart."
+All of which were duly spread out on the sideboard, together with one
+lone bottle to which was attached an envelope.
+
+Before the day was over half the club had called--Richard acting master
+of ceremonies--Kate and old Prim--(he seemed perfectly contented with
+the way everything had turned out)--doing the honors with St. George.
+Pawson had also put in an appearance and been publicly thanked--a mark
+of St. George's confidence and esteem which doubled his practice before
+the year was out, and Gadgem--
+
+No, Gadgem did not put in an appearance. Gadgem got as far as the hall
+and looked in, and, seeing all the great people thronging about St.
+George, would have sneaked out again to await some more favorable
+occasion had not Harry's sharp eyes discovered the top of his scraggly
+head over the shoulders of some others, and darted towards him, and when
+he couldn't be made to budge, had beckoned to St. George, who came on
+a run and shook Gadgem's hand so heartily and thanked him in so loud
+a voice--(everybody in the hall heard him)--that he could only
+sputter--"Didn't do a thing, sir--no, sir--and if I--" and then,
+overwhelmed, shot out of the door and down the steps and into Pawson's
+office where he stood panting, saying to himself--"I'll be tuckered if
+I ain't happier than I--yes--by Jingo, I am. JIMminy-CRIMminy what a man
+he is!"
+
+And so the day passed and the night came and the neighbors took their
+leave, and Harry escorted Kate back to Seymours' and the tired knocker
+gave out and fell asleep, and at last Todd said good-night and stole
+down to Jemima, and St. George found himself once more in his easy
+chair, his head in his hand, his eyes fixed on the dead coals of a past
+fire.
+
+As the echo of Todd's steps faded away and he began to realize that
+he was alone, there crept over him for the first time in years the
+comforting sense that he was once more under his own roof--his again and
+all that it covered--all that he loved; even his beloved dogs. He left
+his chair and with a quick indrawing of his breath, as if he had just
+sniffed the air from some open sea, stretched himself to his full
+height. There he stood looking about him, his shapely fingers patting
+his chest; his eyes wandering over the room, first with a sweeping
+glance, and then resting on each separate object as it nodded to him
+under the glow of the candles.
+
+He had come into his possessions once more. Not that the very belongings
+made so much difference as his sense of pride in their ownership. They
+had, too, in a certain way regained for him his freedom--freedom to go
+and come and do as he pleased untrammelled by makeshifts and humiliating
+exposures and concealments. Best of all, they had given him back
+his courage, bracing the inner man, strengthening his beliefs in his
+traditions and in the things that his race and blood stood for.
+
+Then as a flash of lightning reveals from out black darkness the
+recurrent waves of a troubled sea, there rushed over him the roll and
+surge of the events which had led up to his rehabilitation. Suddenly a
+feeling of intense humiliation and profound gratitude swept through him.
+He raised his arms, covered his face with his hands, and stood swaying;
+forcing back his tears; muttering to himself: "How good they have
+been--how good, how good! All mine once more--wonderful--wonderful!"
+With a resolute bracing of his shoulders and a brave lift of his chin,
+he began a tour of the room, stopping before each one of his beloved
+heirlooms and treasures--his precious gun that Gadgem had given up--(the
+collector coveted it badly as a souvenir, and got it the next day from
+St. George, with his compliments)--the famous silver loving cup with
+an extra polish Kirk had given it; his punch bowl--scarf rings and
+knick-knacks and the furniture and hangings of various kinds. At last he
+reached the sideboard, and bending over reread the several cards
+affixed to the different donations--Mrs. Cheston's, Mrs. Horn's, Miss
+Clendenning's, and the others. His eye now fell on the lone bottle--this
+he had not heretofore noticed--and the note bearing Mr. Kennedy's
+signature. "I send you back, St. George, that last bottle of old
+Madeira, the Black Warrior of 1810--the one you gave me and which we
+were to share together. I hadn't the heart to drink my half without
+you and so here is the whole and my warmest congratulations on your
+home-coming and long life to you!"
+
+Picking up the quaint bottle, he passed his hand tenderly over its
+crusted surface, paused for an instant to examine the cork, and held
+it closer to the light that he might note its condition. There he stood
+musing, his mind far away, his fingers caressing its sides. All
+the aroma of the past; all the splendor of the old regime--all its
+good-fellowship, hospitality, and courtesy--that which his soul
+loved--lay imprisoned under his hand. Suddenly one of his old-time
+quizzical smiles irradiated his face: "By Jove!--just the thing!" he
+cried joyously, "it will take the place of the one Talbot didn't open!"
+
+With a mighty jerk of the bell cord he awoke the echoes below stairs.
+
+Todd came on the double quick:
+
+"Todd."
+
+"Yes, Marse George."
+
+"Todd, here's the last bottle of the 1810. Lay it flat on the top shelf
+with the cork next the wall. We'll open it at Mr. Harry's wedding."
+
+[THE END]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Kennedy Square, by F. Hopkinson Smith
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of Kennedy Square, by F. Hopkinson Smith
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+Title: Kennedy Square
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+Author: F. Hopkinson Smith
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+Release Date: December, 2003 [Etext #4746]
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT KENNEDY SQUARE ***
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+Produced by Duncan Harrod
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+Kennedy Square
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+by
+
+F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+
+Author's Preface:
+
+"Kennedy Square, in the late fifties, was a place of birds and trees and
+flowers; of rude stone benches, sagging arbors smothered in vines, and
+cool dirt paths bordered by sweet-smelling box. Giant magnolias filled
+the air with their fragrance, and climbing roses played hide-and-seek
+among the railings of the rotting fence. Along the shaded walks laughing
+boys and girls romped all day, with hoop and ball, attended by old black
+mammies in white aprons and gayly colored bandannas; while in the more
+secluded corners, sheltered by protecting shrubs, happy lovers sat and
+talked, tired wayfarers rested with hats off, and staid old gentlemen
+read by the hour, their noses in their books.
+
+"Outside of all this color, perfume, and old-time charm; outside the
+grass-line and the rickety wooden fence that framed them in, ran an
+uneven pavement splashed with cool shadows and stained with green mould.
+Here, in summer, the watermelon man stopped his cart; and there, in
+winter, upon its broken bricks, old Moses unhooked his bucket of oysters
+and ceased for a moment his droning call.
+
+"On the shady side of the square, and half hidden in ivy, was a Noah's
+Ark church, topped by a quaint belfry holding a bell that had not rung
+for years, and faced by a clock-dial all weather-stains and cracks,
+around which travelled a single rusty hand. In its shadow to the right
+lay the home of the archdeacon, a stately mansion with Corinthian
+columns reaching to the roof and surrounded by a spacious garden filled
+with damask roses and bushes of sweet syringa. To the left crouched a
+row of dingy houses built of brick, their iron balconies hung in
+flowering vines, the windows glistening with panes of wavy glass purpled
+by age.
+
+"On the sunny side of the square, opposite the church, were more houses,
+high and low: one all garden, filled with broken-nosed statues hiding
+behind still more magnolias; and another all veranda and honeysuckle,
+big rocking-chairs and swinging hammocks; and still others with porticos
+curtained by white jasmine or Virginia creeper."
+
+--From "The Fortunes of Oliver Horn."
+
+
+
+
+KENNEDY SQUARE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+
+On the precise day on which this story opens--some sixty or more years
+ago, to be exact--a bullet-headed, merry-eyed, mahogany-colored young
+darky stood on the top step of an old-fashioned, high-stoop house,
+craning his head up and down and across Kennedy Square in the effort to
+get the first glimpse of his master, St. George Wilmot Temple, attorney
+and counsellor-at-law, who was expected home from a ducking trip down
+the bay.
+
+Whether it was the need of this very diet, or whether St. George had
+felt a sudden longing for the out-of-doors, is a matter of doubt, but
+certain it is that some weeks before the very best shot in the county
+had betaken himself to the Eastern Shore of Maryland, accompanied by his
+guns, his four dogs, and two or three choice men of fashion--young
+bloods of the time--men with whom we shall become better acquainted as
+these chronicles go on--there to search for the toothsome and elusive
+canvas-back for which his State was famous.
+
+That the darky was without a hat and in his shirt-sleeves, and it
+winter--the middle of January, really--the only warm thing about him
+being the green baize apron tied about his waist, his customary livery
+when attending to his morning duties--did not trouble him in the least.
+Marse George might come any minute, and he wanted to be the first to
+welcome him.
+
+For the past few weeks Todd had had the house to himself. Coal-black
+Aunt Jemima, with her knotted pig-tails, capacious bosom, and unconfined
+waist, forty years his senior and ten shades darker in color, it is
+true, looked after the pots and pans, to say nothing of a particular
+spit on which her master's joints and game were roasted; but the upper
+part of the house, which covered the drawing-room, dining-room, bedroom,
+and dressing-room in the rear, as well as the outside of the dwelling,
+including even the green-painted front door and the slant of white
+marble steps that dropped to the brick sidewalk, were the especial
+property of the chocolate-colored darky.
+
+To these duties was added the exclusive care of the master himself--a
+care which gave the boy the keenest delight, and which embraced every
+service from the drawing off of St. George Wilmot Temple's boots to the
+shortening of that gentleman's slightly gray hair; the supervision of
+his linen, clothes, and table, with such side issues as the custody of
+his well-stocked cellar, to say nothing of the compounding of various
+combinations, sweet, sour, and strong, the betrayal of whose secrets
+would have cost the darky his place.
+
+"Place" is the word, for Todd was not St. George's slave, but the
+property of a well-born, if slightly impoverished, gentleman who lived
+on the Eastern Shore, and whose chief source of income was the hiring
+out to his friends and acquaintances of just such likely young darkies
+as Todd--a custom common to the impecunious of those days.
+
+As Mr. Temple, however, did not come under either one of the
+above-mentioned classes--the "slightly impoverished gentleman" never
+having laid eyes on him in his life--the negotiations had to be
+conducted with a certain formality. Todd had therefore, on his arrival,
+unpinned from the inside of his jacket a portentous document signed with
+his owner's name and sealed with a red wafer, which after such
+felicitous phrases as--"I have the distinguished honor," etc.--gave the
+boy's age (21), weight (140 pounds), and height (5 feet 10 inches)--all
+valuable data for identification in case the chattel conceived a notion
+of moving further north (an unnecessary precaution in Todd's case). To
+this was added the further information that the boy had been raised
+under his master's heels, that he therefore knew his pedigree, and that
+his sole and only reason for sparing him from his own immediate service
+was his own poverty and the fact that while under St. George's care the
+boy could learn how "to wait on quality."
+
+As to the house itself--the "Temple Mansion," as it was called--that was
+as much a part of Kennedy Square as the giant magnolias gracing the
+park, or the Noah's Ark church, with its quaint belfry and cracked bell,
+which faced its shady walks. Nobody, of course, remembered how long it
+had been built--that is, nobody then alive--I mean the very date. Such
+authorities as Major Clayton were positive that the bricks had been
+brought from Holland; while Richard Horn, the rising young scientist,
+was sure that all the iron and brass work outside were the product of
+Sheffield; but in what year they had all been put together had always
+been a disputed question.
+
+That, however, which was certain and beyond doubt, was that St. George's
+father, old General Dorsey Temple, had purchased the property near the
+close of the preceding century; that he had, with his characteristic
+vehemence, pushed up the roof, thrust in two dormer windows, and smashed
+out the rear wall, thus enlarging the dining-room and giving increased
+space for a glass-covered porch ending in a broad flight of wooden steps
+descending to a rose-garden surrounded by a high brick wall; that thus
+encouraged he had widened the fireplaces, wainscoted the hall, built a
+new mahogany spider-web staircase leading to his library on the second
+floor, and had otherwise disported himself after the manner of a man
+who, having suddenly fallen heir to a big pot of money, had ever after
+continued oblivious to the fact that the more holes he punched in its
+bottom the less water would spill over its top. The alterations
+complete, balls, routs, and dinners followed to such distinguished
+people as Count Rochambeau, the Marquis de Castellux, Marquis de
+Lafayette, and other high dignitaries, coming-of-age parties for the
+young bloods--quite English in his tastes was the old gentleman--not to
+mention many other extravagances which were still discussed by the
+gossips of the day.
+
+With the general's death--it had occurred some twenty years before--the
+expected had happened. Not only was the pot nearly empty, but the
+various drains which it had sustained had so undermined the family
+rent-roll that an equally disastrous effect had been produced on the
+mansion itself (one of the few pieces of property, by the way, that the
+father had left to his only son and heir unencumbered, with the
+exception of a suit in chancery from which nobody ever expected a
+penny), the only dry spots in St. George's finances being the few ground
+rents remaining from his grandmother's legacy and the little he could
+pick up at the law.
+
+It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that certain changes and
+deteriorations had taken place inside and out of the historic
+building--changes which never in the slightest degree affected the
+even-tempered St. George, who had retained his own private apartments
+regardless of the rest of the house--but changes which, in all justice
+to the irascible old spendthrift, would have lifted that gentleman out
+of his grave could he have realized their effect and extent. What a
+shock, for instance, would the most punctilious man of his time have
+received when he found his front basement rented for a law office, to
+say nothing of a disreputable tin sign nailed to a shutter--where in the
+olden time he and his cronies had toasted their shins before blazing
+logs, the toddies kept hot on the hearth! And what a row would he have
+raised had he known that the rose-garden was entirely neglected and
+given over to the dogs and their kennels; the library in the second
+story stripped of its books and turned into a guest-chamber, and the
+books themselves consigned to the basement; the oak-panelled dining-room
+transformed into a bedchamber for St. George, and the white-and-gold
+drawing-room fronting the street reduced to a mere living-room where his
+son and heir made merry with his friends! And then the shrinkages all
+about! When a room could be dispensed with, it was locked up. When a
+shingle broke loose, it stayed loose; and so did the bricks capping the
+chimneys, and the leaky rain-spouts that spattered the dingy bricks, as
+well as the cracks and crannies that marred the ceilings and walls.
+
+And yet so great was Todd's care over the outside fittings of the
+house--details which were necessarily in evidence, and which determined
+at a glance the quality of the folks inside--that these several
+crumblings, shake-downs, and shrinkages were seldom noticed by the
+passer-by. The old adage that a well-brushed hat, a clean collar,
+polished shoes, and immaculate gloves--all terminal details--make the
+well-dressed man, no matter how shabby or how ill-fitting his
+intermediate apparel, applied, according to Todd's standards, to houses
+as well as Brummels. He it was who soused the windows of purple glass,
+polished the brass knobs, rubbed bright the brass knocker and brass
+balls at the top and bottom of the delightful iron railings, to say
+nothing of the white marble steps, which he attacked with a slab of
+sandstone and cake of fuller's-earth, bringing them to so high a state
+of perfection that one wanted to apologize for stepping on them. Thus it
+was that the weather-beaten rainspouts, stained bricks, sagging roof,
+and blistered window-sashes were no longer in evidence. Indeed, their
+very shabbiness so enhanced the brilliancy of Todd's handiwork that the
+most casual passers-by were convinced at a glance that gentlefolk lived
+within.
+
+
+On this particular morning, then, Todd had spent most of the time since
+daylight--it was now eight o'clock--in the effort to descry his master
+making his way along the street, either afoot or by some conveyance, his
+eyes dancing, his ears alert as a rabbit's, his restless feet marking
+the limit of his eagerness. In his impatience he had practised every
+step known to darkydom in single and double shuffle; had patted juba on
+one and both knees, keeping time with his heels to the rhythm; had slid
+down and climbed up the railings a dozen times, his eyes on the turn in
+the street, and had otherwise conducted himself as would any other boy,
+black or white, who was at his wits' end to know what to do with the
+next second of his time.
+
+Aunt Jemima had listened to the racket until she had lost all patience,
+and at last threw up the basement window:
+
+"Go in an' shet dat do'--'fo' I come up dar an' smack ye--'nough ter
+make a body deef ter hear ye," she called, her black shining face
+dividing the curtains. "How you know he's a-comin'?"
+
+Todd leaned over the railing and peered down: "Mister Harry Rutter done
+tol' me--said dey all 's a-comin'--de jedge an' Doctor Teackle an' Marse
+George an' de hull kit an' bilin'. Dey's been gone mos' two weeks
+now,--dey's a-comin' I tell ye--be yere any minute."
+
+"I b'liebe dat when I sees it. Fool nigger like you b'liebe anything.
+You better go inside 'fo' you catch yo' dea'f. I gin ye fair warnin'
+right now dat I ain't gwineter nuss ye,--d'ye yere?--standin' out dar
+like a tarr-pin wid yo' haid out. Go in I tell ye!" and she shut the
+window with a bang and made her way to the kitchen.
+
+Todd kept up his double shuffle with everything going--hands, feet, and
+knees--thrashed his arms about his chest and back to keep up the
+circulation and with a final grimace in the direction of the old cook
+maintained his watch.
+
+"I spec's it's de fog dat's kep' 'em," he muttered anxiously, his feet
+still in action. "Dat bay boat's mos' allus late,--can't tell when
+she'll git in. Only las' week--Golly!--dar he is--DAT'S HIM!"
+
+A mud-bespattered gig was swinging around the corner into the Square,
+and with a swerve in its course was heading to where Todd stood.
+
+The boy sprang down the steps:
+
+"Yere he is, Aunt Jemima!" he shouted, as if the old cook could have
+heard him through three brick walls.
+
+The gig came to a stand-still and began to unload: first the dogs, who
+had been stowed under their master's feet since they left the steamboat
+wharf, and who with a clear bound to the sidewalk began scouring in mad
+circles, one after another, up and down Todd's immaculate steps, the
+four in full cry until the entire neighborhood was aroused, the late
+sleepers turning over with the remark--"Temple's at home," and the early
+risers sticking their heads out of the windows to count the ducks as
+they were passed out. Next the master: One shapely leg encased in an
+English-made ducking boot, then its mate, until the whole of his
+handsome, well-knit, perfectly healthy and perfectly delightful body was
+clear of the cramped conveyance.
+
+"Hello, Todd!" he burst out, his face aglow with his drive from the
+boat-landing--"glad to see you! Here, take hold of these guns---easy
+now, they won't hurt you; one at a time, you lunkhead! And now pull
+those ducks from under the seat. How's Aunt Jemima?--Oh, is that you
+aunty?" She had come on the run as soon as she heard the dogs.
+"Everything all right, aunty--howdy--" and he shook her hand heartily.
+
+The old woman had made a feint to pull her sleeves down over her plump
+black arms and then, begrudging the delay, had grasped his outstretched
+hand, her face in a broad grin.
+
+"Yes, sah, dat's me. Clar' to goodness, Marse George, I's glad ter git
+ye home. Lawd-a-massy, see dem ducks! Purty fat, ain't dey, sah?
+My!--dat pair's jes' a-bustin'! G'long you fool nigger an' let me hab
+'em! G'way f'om dere I tell ye!"
+
+"No,--you pick them up, Todd--they're too heavy for you, aunty. You go
+back to your kitchen and hurry up breakfast--waffles, remember,--and
+some corn pone and a scallop shell or two--I'm as hungry as a bear."
+
+The whole party were mounting the steps now, St. George carrying the
+guns, Todd loaded down with the game--ten brace of canvas-backs and
+redheads strung together by their bills--the driver of the gig following
+with the master's big ducking overcoat and smaller traps--the four dogs
+crowding up trying to nose past for a dash into the wide hall as soon as
+Todd opened the door.
+
+"Anybody been here lately, Todd?" his master asked, stopping for a
+moment to get a better grip of his heaviest duck gun.
+
+"Ain't nobody been yere partic'ler 'cept Mister Harry Rutter. Dey alls
+knowed you was away. Been yere mos' ev'ry day--come ag'in yisterday."
+
+"Mr. Rutter been here!--Well, what did he want?"
+
+"Dunno, sah,--didn't say. Seemed consid'ble shook up when he foun' you
+warn't to home. I done tol' him you might be back to-day an' den ag'in
+you mightn't--'pended on de way de ducks was flyin'. Spec' he'll be
+roun' ag'in purty soon--seemed ter hab sumpin' on his min'. I'll tu'n de
+knob, sah. Yere--git down, you imp o' darkness,--you Floe!--you Dandy!
+Drat dem dogs!--Yere, YERE!" but all four dogs were inside now, making a
+sweepstakes of the living-room, the rugs and cushions flying in every
+direction.
+
+Although Todd had spent most of the minutes since daylight peering up
+and down the Square, eager for the first sight of the man whom he loved
+with an idolatry only to be found in the negro for a white man whom he
+respects, and who is kind to him, he had not neglected any of his other
+duties. There was a roaring wood fire behind brass andirons and fender.
+There was a breakfast table set for two--St. George's invariable custom.
+"Somebody might drop in, you know, Todd." There was a big easy-chair
+moved up within warming distance of the cheery blaze; there were pipes
+and tobacco within reach of the master's hand; there was the weekly
+newspaper folded neatly on the mantel, and a tray holding an
+old-fashioned squat decanter and the necessary glasses--in fact, all the
+comforts possible and necessary for a man who having at twenty-five
+given up all hope of wedded life, found himself at fifty becoming
+accustomed to its loss.
+
+St. George seized the nearest dog by the collar, cuffed him into
+obedience as an example to the others, ordered the four to the hearth
+rug, ran his eye along the mantel to see what letters had arrived in his
+absence, and disappeared into his bedroom. From thence he emerged half
+an hour later attired in the costume of the day--a jaunty brown
+velveteen jacket, loose red scarf, speckled white waistcoat--single-
+breasted and of his own pattern and cut--dove-gray trousers, and white
+gaiters. No town clothes for St. George as long as his measure was in
+London and his friends were good enough to bring him a trunk full every
+year or two. "Well-cut garments may not make a gentleman," he would
+often say to the youngsters about him, "but slip-shod clothes can spoil
+one."
+
+He had drawn up to the table now, Todd in white jacket hovering about
+him, bringing relays of waffles, hot coffee, and more particularly the
+first of a series of great scallop-shells filled with oysters which he
+had placed on the well-brushed hearth to keep hot while his master was
+dressing.
+
+Fifty he was by the almanac, and by the old family Bible as well, and
+yet he did not look it. Six feet and an inch; straight, ruddy-checked,
+broad-shouldered, well-rounded, but with his waist measure still under
+control; slightly gray at the temples, with clean-shaven face, laughing
+eyes, white teeth, and finely moulded nose, brow, and chin, he was
+everything his friends claimed--the perfect embodiment of all that was
+best in his class and station, and of all that his blood had bequeathed
+him.
+
+And fine old fellows they were if we can believe the historians of the
+seventeenth century: "Wearing the falchion and the rapier, the cloth
+coat lined with plush and embroidered belt, the gold hat-band and the
+feathers, silk stockings and garters, besides signet rings and other
+jewels; wainscoting the walls of their principal rooms in black oak and
+loading their sideboards with a deal of rich and massive silver plate
+upon which was carved the arms of their ancestors;--drinking, too,
+strong punch and sack from 'silver sack-cups'--(sack being their
+favorite)--and feasting upon oysters and the most delicious of all the
+ducks of the world."
+
+And in none of their other distinguishing qualities was their descendant
+lacking. In the very lift of his head and brace of his shoulders; in the
+grace and ease with which be crossed the room, one could see at a glance
+something of the dash and often the repose of the cavalier from whom he
+had sprung. And the sympathy, kindness, and courtesy of the man that
+showed in every glance of his eye and every movement of his
+body--despite his occasional explosive temper--a sympathy that drifted
+in to an ungovernable impulse to divide everything he owned into two
+parts, and his own half into two once more if the other fellow needed
+it; a kindness that made every man his friend, and a courtesy which,
+even in a time when men lifted their hats to men, as well as to women,
+had gained for him, the town over, the soubriquet of "Gentleman George";
+while to every young girl and youth under twenty he was just "dear Uncle
+George"--the one man in all Kennedy Square who held their secrets.
+
+
+But to our breakfast once more. All four dogs were on their feet now,
+their tails wagging expectantly, their noses at each of his knees, where
+they were regaled at regular intervals with choice bits from his plate,
+the snapping of their solemn jaws expressing their thanks. A second
+scallop-shell was next lifted from the hearth with the tongs, and
+deposited sizzling hot on a plate beside the master, the aroma of the
+oysters filling the room. These having disappeared, as had the former
+one, together with the waffles and coffee, and the master's appetite
+being now on the wane, general conversation became possible.
+
+"Did Mr. Rutter look ill, Todd?" he continued, picking up the thread of
+the talk where he had left it. "He wasn't very well when I left."
+
+"No, sah,--neber see him look better. Been up a li'l' late I
+reckon,--Marse Harry mos' gen'ally is a li'l' mite late, sah--" Todd
+chuckled. "But dat ain't nuthin' to dese gemmans. But he sho' do wanter
+see ye. Maybe he stayed all night at Mister Seymour's. If he did an' he
+yered de rumpus dese rapscallions kicked up--yes--dat's you I'm talkin'
+to"--and he looked toward the dogs--"he'll be roun' yere 'fo' ye gits
+fru yo' bre'kfus'. Dey do say as how Marse Harry's mighty sweet in dat
+quarter. Mister Langdon Willits's snoopin' roun' too, but Miss Kate
+ain't got no use fer him. He ain't quality dey say."
+
+His master let him run on; Aunt Jemima was Todd's only outlet during his
+master's absence, and as this was sometimes clogged by an uplifted
+broom, he made the best use he could of the opportunities when he and
+his master were alone. When "comp'ny" were present he was as
+close-mouthed as a clam and as noiseless as a crab.
+
+"Who told you all this gossip, Todd?" exclaimed St. George with a smile,
+laying down his knife and fork.
+
+"Ain't nary one tol' me--ain't no use bein' tol'. All ye got to do is to
+keep yo' eyes open. Be a weddin' dar 'fo' spring. Look out, sah--dat
+shell's still a-sizzlin'. Mo' coffee, sah? Wait till I gits some hot
+waffles--won't take a minute!" and he was out of the room and downstairs
+before his master could answer.
+
+Hardly had he slammed the kitchen door behind him when the clatter and
+stamp of a horse's hoofs were heard Outside, followed by an impatient
+rat-a-tat-tat on the knocker.
+
+The boy dropped his dishes: "Fo' Gawd, dat's Mister Harry!" he cried as
+he started on a run for the door. "Don't nobody bang de do' down like
+dat but him."
+
+A slender, thoroughly graceful young fellow of twenty-one or two, booted
+and spurred, his dark eyes flashing, his face tingling with the sting of
+the early morning air, dashed past the obsequious darky and burst into
+Temple's presence with the rush of a north-west breeze. He had ridden
+ten miles since he vaulted into the saddle, had never drawn rein uphill
+or down, and neither he nor the thoroughbred pawing the mud outside had
+turned a hair.
+
+"Hello, Uncle George!" Temple, as has been said, was Uncle George to
+every girl and youth in Kennedy Square.
+
+"Why, Harry!" He had sprung from his seat, napkin in hand and had him by
+both shoulders, looking into his eyes as if he wanted to hug him, and
+would the first thing he knew. "Where are you from--Moorlands? What a
+rollicking chap you are, and you look so well and handsome, you dog! And
+now tell me of your dear mother and your father. But first down with
+you--here--right opposite--always your place, my dear Harry. Todd,
+another shell of oysters and more waffles and coffee--everything, Todd,
+and blazing hot: two shells, Todd--the sight of you, Harry, makes me
+ravenous again, and I could have eaten my boots, when I got home an hour
+ago, I was so hungry. But the mare"--here he moved to the window--"is
+she all right? Spitfire, I suppose--you'd kill anything else, you
+rascal! But you haven't tied her!"
+
+"No--never tie her--break her heart if I did. Todd, hang up this coat
+and hat in the hall before you go."
+
+"That's what you said of that horse you bought of Hampson--ran away,
+didn't he?" persisted his host, his eyes on the mare, which had now
+become quiet.
+
+"Yes, and broke his leg. But Spitfire's all right--she'll stand. Where
+will I sit--here? And now what kind of a time did you have, and who were
+with you?"
+
+"Clayton, Doctor Teackle, and the judge."
+
+"And how many ducks did you get?" and he dropped into his chair.
+
+"Twenty-one," answered St. George, dry-washing his white shapely hands,
+as he took his seat--a habit of his when greatly pleased.
+
+"All canvas-backs?"
+
+"No--five redheads and a mallard."
+
+"Where did you put up?" echoed Harry, loosening his riding-jacket to
+give his knife and fork freer play.
+
+"I spent a week at Tom Coston's and a week at Craddock. Another lump of
+sugar, Todd."
+
+The boy laughed gently: "Lazy Tom's?"
+
+"Lazy Tom's--and the best-hearted fellow in the world. They're going to
+make him a judge, they say and--"
+
+"--What of--peach brandy? No cream in mine, Todd."
+
+"No--you scurrilous dog--of the Common Court," retorted St. George,
+looking at him over the top of his cup. "Very good lawyer is Tom--got
+horse sense and can speak the truth--make a very good judge."
+
+Again Harry laughed--rather a forced laugh this time, as if he were
+trying to make himself agreeable but with so anxious a ring through it
+that Todd busied himself about the table before going below for fresh
+supplies, making excuse of collecting the used dishes. If there were to
+be any revelations concerning the situation at the Seymour house, he did
+not intend to miss any part of them.
+
+"Better put Mrs. Coston on the bench and set Tom to rocking the cradle,"
+said the young man, reaching for the plate of corn pone. "She's a
+thoroughbred if ever I saw one, and does credit to her blood. But go
+on--tell me about the birds. Are they flying high?--and the duck
+blinds; have they fixed them up? They were all going to pot when I was
+there last."
+
+"Birds out of range, most of them--hard work getting what I did. As to
+the blinds, they are still half full of water--got soaking wet trying to
+use one. I shot most of mine from the boat just as the day broke," and
+then followed a full account of what the party had bagged, with details
+of every day's adventures. This done, St. George pushed back his chair
+and faced the young man.
+
+"And now you take the witness-stand, sir--look me in the eyes, put your
+hand on your fob-pocket and tell me the truth. Todd says you have been
+here every day for a week looking as if you had lost your last
+fip-penny-bit and wild to see me. What has happened?"
+
+"Todd has a vivid imagination." He turned in his seat, stretched out his
+hand, and catching one of the dogs by the nose rubbed his head
+vigorously.
+
+"Go on--all of it--no dodging the king's counsellor. What's the matter?"
+
+The young man glanced furtively at Todd, grabbed another dog, rubbed
+their two ears together in play, and in a lowered voice, through which a
+tinge of sadness was only too apparent, murmured:
+
+"Miss Kate--we've had a falling out."
+
+St. George lowered his head suddenly and gave a low whistle:--"Falling
+out?--what about?"
+
+Again young Rutter glanced at Todd, whose back was turned, but whose
+ears were stretched to splitting point. His host nodded understandingly.
+
+"There, Todd--that will do; now go down and get your breakfast. No more
+waffles, tell Aunt Jemima. Bring the pipes over here and throw on
+another log ... that's right." A great sputtering of sparks followed--a
+spider-legged, mahogany table was wheeled into place, and the dejected
+darky left the room for the regions below.
+
+"So you two have had a quarrel! Oh, Harry!--when will you learn to think
+twice before you speak? Whose fault was it?" sighed St. George, filling
+the bowl of his pipe with his slender fingers, slowly tucking in each
+shred and grain.
+
+"Mine."
+
+"What did you say?" (Puff-puff.)
+
+"Nothing--I couldn't. She came in and saw it all." The boy had his
+elbows on the table now, his cheeks sunk in his hands.
+
+St. George looked up: "Drunk, were you?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"At Mrs. Cheston's ball last week."
+
+"Have you seen her since?"
+
+"No--she won't let me come near her. Mr. Seymour passed me yesterday and
+hardly spoke to me."
+
+St. George canted his chair and zigzagged it toward the blazing hearth;
+then he said thoughtfully, without looking at the young man:
+
+"Well, this is a pretty kettle of fish! Have you told your father?"
+
+"No--he wouldn't understand."
+
+"And I know you didn't tell your mother." This came with the tone of
+positive conviction.
+
+"No--and don't you. Mother is daft on the subject. If she had her way,
+father would never put a drop of wine on the table. She says it is
+ruining the county--but that's mother's way."
+
+St. George stooped over, fondled one of the dogs for a moment--two had
+followed Todd out of the room--settled back in his chair again, and
+still looking into the fire, said slowly:
+
+"Bad business--bad business, Harry! Kate is as proud as Lucifer and
+dislikes nothing on earth so much as being made conspicuous. Tell me
+exactly what happened."
+
+"Well, there isn't anything to tell," replied the young fellow, raising
+his head and leaning back in his chair, his face the picture of despair.
+"We were all in the library and the place was boiling-hot, and they had
+two big bowls, one full of eggnog and the other full of apple-toddy: and
+the next thing I knew I was out in the hall and met Kate on the stairs.
+She gave a little smothered scream, and moaned--'Oh, Harry!--and you
+promised me!'--and then she put her hands to her face, as if to shut me
+out of her sight. That sobered me somewhat, and after I got out on the
+porch into the night air and had pulled myself together, I tried to find
+her and apologize, but she had gone home, although the ball wasn't half
+over.
+
+"Then this was not the first time?" He was still at the hot coals, both
+hands outfanned, to screen his face from the blaze.
+
+"No--I'm sorry to say it wasn't. I told her I would never fail her
+again, and she forgave me, but I don't know what she'll do now. She
+never forgives anybody who breaks his word--she's very queer about it.
+That's what I came to see you about. I haven't slept much nights,
+thinking it over, and so I had the mare saddled, as soon as it got
+light, hoping you would be home. Todd thought you might be--he saw Dr.
+Teackle's Joe, who said you were all coming to-day."
+
+Again there was a long pause, during which Temple continued to study the
+coals through his open fingers, the young man sitting hunched up in his
+chair, his handsome head dropped between his shoulders, his glossy
+chestnut hair, a-frouze with his morning ride, fringing his collar
+behind.
+
+"Harry," said St. George, knocking the ashes slowly from his pipe on the
+edge of the fender, and turning his face for the first time toward
+him,--"didn't I hear something before I went away about a ball at your
+father's--or a dance--or something, when your engagement was to be
+announced?"
+
+The boy nodded.
+
+"And was it not to be something out of the ordinary?" he continued,
+looking at the boy from under his eyelids--"Teackle certainly told me
+so--said that your mother had already begun to get the house in order--"
+
+Again Harry nodded--as if he had been listening to an indictment, every
+word of which he knew was true.
+
+St. George roused himself and faced his guest: "And yet you took this
+time, Harry, to--"
+
+The boy threw up both hands in protest:
+
+"Don't!--DON'T! Uncle George! It's the ball that makes it all the worse.
+That's why I've got no time to lose; that's why I've haunted this place
+waiting for you to get back. Mother will be heart-broken if she finds
+out and I don't know what father would do."
+
+St. George laid his empty pipe on the table and straightened his body in
+the chair until his broad shoulders filled the back. Then his brow
+darkened; his indignation was getting the better of him.
+
+"I don't know what has come over you young fellows, Harry!" he at last
+broke out, his eyes searching the boy's. "You don't seem to know how to
+live. You've got to pull a shoat out of a trough to keep it from
+overeating itself, but you shouldn't be obliged to pull a gentleman away
+from his glass. Good wine is good food and should be treated as such. My
+cellar is stocked with old Madeira--some port--some fine sherries--so is
+your father's. Have you ever seen him abuse them?--have you ever seen
+Mr. Horn or Mr. Kennedy, or any of our gentlemen around here, abuse
+them? It's scandalous, Harry! damnable! I love you, my son--love you in
+a way you know nothing of, but you've got to stop this sort of thing
+right off. And so have these young roysterers you associate with. It's
+getting worse every day. I don't wonder your dear mother feels about it
+as she does. But she's always been that way, and she's always been right
+about it, too, although I didn't use to think so." This last came with a
+lowered voice and a deep, indrawn sigh, and for the moment checked the
+flow of his wrath.
+
+Harry hung his head still lower, but he did not attempt to defend
+himself.
+
+"Who else were making vulgarians of themselves at Mrs. Cheston's?" St.
+George continued in a calmer tone, stretching his shapely legs until the
+soles of his shoes touched the fender.
+
+"Mark Gilbert, Tom Murdoch, Langdon Willits, and--"
+
+"Willits, eh?--Well, I should expect it of Willits. He wasn't born a
+gentleman--that is, his grandfather wasn't a gentleman--married his
+overseer's daughter, if I remember right:--but you come of the best
+blood in the State,--egad!--none better! You have something to
+maintain--some standard to keep up. A Rutter should never be found
+guilty of anything that would degrade his name. You seem to forget
+that--you--damn me, Harry!--when I think of it all--and of Kate--my
+sweet, lovely Kate,--and how you have made her suffer--for she loves
+you--no question of that--I feel like wringing your neck! What the devil
+do you mean, Sir?" He was up on his feet now, pacing the room, the dogs
+following his every movement with their brown agate eyes, their soft,
+silky ears straightening and falling.
+
+So far the young fellow had not moved nor had he offered a word in
+defence. He knew his Uncle George--better let him blow it all out, then
+the two could come together. At last he said in a contrite tone--his
+hands upraised:
+
+"Don't scold me, Uncle George. I've scolded myself enough--just say
+something to help me. I can't give Kate up--I'd sooner die. I've always
+made a fool of myself--maybe I'll quit doing it after this. Tell me how
+I can straighten this out. She won't see me--maybe her father won't. He
+and my father--so Tom Warfield told me yesterday--had a talk at the
+club. What they said I don't know, but Mr. Seymour was pretty mad--that
+is, for him--so Tom thought from the way he spoke."
+
+"And he ought to be mad--raging mad! He's only got one daughter, and she
+the proudest and loveliest thing on earth, and that one he intends to
+give to you"--Harry looked up in surprise--"Yes--he told me so. And
+here you are breaking her heart before he has announced it to the world.
+It's worse than damnable, Harry--it's a CRIME!"
+
+For some minutes he continued his walk, stopping to look out of the
+window, his eyes on the mare who, with head up and restless eyes, was on
+the watch for her master's return; then he picked up his pipe from the
+table, threw himself into his chair again, and broke into one of his
+ringing laughs.
+
+"I reckon it's because you're twenty, Harry, I forgot that. Hot
+blood--hot temper,--madcap dare-devil that you are--not a grain of
+common-sense. But what can you expect?--I was just like you at your age.
+Come, now, what shall we do first?"
+
+The young fellow rose and a smile of intense relief crept over his face.
+He had had many such overhaulings from his uncle, and always with this
+ending. Whenever St. George let out one of those big, spontaneous,
+bubbling laughs straight from his heart, the trouble, no matter how
+serious, was over. What some men gained by anger and invective St.
+George gained by good humor, ranging from the faint smile of toleration
+to the roar of merriment. One reason why he had so few enemies--none,
+practically--was that he could invariably disarm an adversary with a
+laugh. It was a fine old blade that he wielded; only a few times in his
+life had he been called upon to use any other--when some under-dog was
+maltreated, or his own good name or that of a friend was traduced, or
+some wrong had to be righted--then his face would become as hot steel
+and there would belch out a flame of denunciation that would scorch and
+blind in its intensity. None of these fiercer moods did the boy
+know;--what he knew was his uncle's merry side--his sympathetic, loving
+side,--and so, following up his advantage, he strode across the room,
+settled down on the arm of his uncle's chair, and put his arm about his
+shoulders.
+
+"Won't you go and see her, please?" he pleaded, patting his back,
+affectionately.
+
+"What good will that do? Hand me a match, Harry."
+
+"Everything--that's what I came for."
+
+"Not with Kate! She isn't a child--she's a woman," he echoed back
+between the puffs, his indignation again on the rise. "And she is
+different from the girls about here," he added, tossing the burned match
+in the fire. "When she once makes up her mind it stays made up."
+
+"Don't let her make it up! Go and see her and tell her how I love her
+and how miserable I am. Tell her I'll never break another promise to her
+as long as I live. Nobody ever holds out against you. Please, Uncle
+George! I'll never come to you for anything else in the world if you'll
+help me this time. And I won't drink another drop of anything you don't
+want me to drink--I don't care what father or anybody else says. Oh,
+you've GOT to go to her!--I can't stand it any longer! Every time I
+think of Kate hidden away over there where I can't get at her, it drives
+me wild. I wouldn't ask you to go if I could go myself and talk it out
+with her--but she won't let me near her--I've tried, and tried; and Ben
+says she isn't at home, and knows he lies when he says it! You will go,
+won't you?"
+
+The smoke from his uncle's pipe was coming freer now--most of it
+escaping up the throat of the chimney with a gentle swoop.
+
+"When do you want me to go?" He had already surrendered. When had he
+ever held out when a love affair was to be patched up?
+
+"Now, right away."
+
+"No,--I'll go to-night,--she will be at home then," he said at last, as
+if he had just made up his mind, the pipe having helped--"and do you
+come in about nine and--let me know when you are there, or--better
+still, wait in the hall until I come for you."
+
+"But couldn't I steal in while you are talking?"
+
+"No--you do just as I tell you. Not a sound out of you, remember, until
+I call you."
+
+"But how am I to know? She might go out the other door and--"
+
+"You'll know when I come for you."
+
+"And you think it will be all right, don't you?" he pleaded. "You'll
+tell her what an awful time I've had, won't you, Uncle George?"
+
+"Yes, every word of it."
+
+"And that I haven't slept a wink since--"
+
+"Yes--and that you are going to drown yourself and blow your head off
+and swallow poison. Now off with you and let me think how I am to begin
+straightening out this idiotic mess. Nine o'clock, remember, and in the
+hall until I come for you."
+
+"Yes--nine o'clock! Oh!--you good Uncle George! I'll never forget you
+for it," and with a grasp of St. George's hand and another outpouring of
+gratitude, the young fellow swung wide the door, clattered down the
+steps, threw his leg over Spitfire, and dashed up the street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+
+If Kate's ancestors had wasted any part of their substance in too lavish
+a hospitality, after the manner of the spendthrift whose extravagances
+were recounted in the preceding chapter, there was nothing to indicate
+it in the home of their descendants. No loose shutters, crumbling
+chimneys, or blistered woodwork defaced the Seymour mansion:--the touch
+of the restorer was too apparent. No sooner did a shutter sag or a hinge
+give way than away it went to the carpenter or the blacksmith; no sooner
+did a banister wabble, or a table crack, or an andiron lose a leg, than
+up came somebody with a kit, or a bag, or a box of tools, and they were
+as good as new before you could wink your eye. Indeed, so great was the
+desire to keep things up that it was only necessary (so a wag said) to
+scratch a match on old Seymour's front door to have its panels repainted
+the next morning.
+
+And then its seclusion:--while its neighbors--the Temple mansion among
+them--had been placed boldly out to the full building line where they
+could see and be seen, the Seymours, with that spirit of aloofness which
+had marked the family for generations, had set their dwelling back ten
+paces, thrown up a hedge of sweet-smelling box to screen the inmates
+from the gaze of passers-by, planted three or four big trees as
+protection for the upper windows, and, to insure still greater privacy,
+had put up a swinging wooden gate, kept shut by a ball and chain, its
+clang announcing the entrance of each and every visitor.
+
+And this same spirit was manifest the moment you stepped into the wide
+hall, glanced at the old family portraits marching steadily, one after
+another, up the side of the spacious stairs (revarnished every other
+year)--entered the great drawing-room hung with yellow satin and
+decorated with quaint mirrors, and took a scat in one of the
+all-embracing arm-chairs, there to await the arrival of either the
+master of the house or his charming daughter.
+
+If it were the master to whom you wished to pay your respects, one
+glance at the Honorable Howard Douglass Seymour would have convinced you
+that he was precisely the kind of man who should have had charge of so
+well-ordered a home: so well brushed was he--so clean-shaven--so
+immaculately upholstered--the two points of his collar pinching his
+cheeks at the same precise angle; his faultless black stock fitting to
+perfection, the lapels of his high-rolled coat matching exactly. And
+then the correct parting of the thin gray hair and the two little gray
+brush-tails of lovelocks that were combed in front of his ears, there to
+become a part of the two little dabs of gray whiskers that stretched
+from his temples to his bleached cheekbones. Yes--a most carefully
+preserved, prim, and well-ordered person was Kate's father.
+
+As to the great man's career, apart from his service in the legislature,
+which won him his title, there was no other act of his life which marked
+him apart from his fellows. Suffice it to say that he was born a
+gentleman without a penny to his name; that he married Kate's mother
+when she was twenty and he forty (and here is another story, and a sad
+one)--she the belle of her time--and sole heir to the estate of her
+grandfather, Captain Hugh Barkeley, the rich ship-owner--and that the
+alliance had made him a gentleman of unlimited leisure, she, at her
+death, having left all her property to her daughter Kate, with the
+Honorable Prim as custodian.
+
+And this trust, to his credit be it said--for Seymour was of Scotch
+descent, a point in his favor with old Captain Barkeley, who was Scotch
+on his mother's side, and, therefore, somewhat canny--was most
+religiously kept, he living within his ample means--or Kate's, which was
+the same thing--discharging the duties of father, citizen, and friend,
+with the regularity of a clock--so many hours with his daughter, so many
+hours at his club, so many hours at his office; the intermediate minutes
+being given over to resting, dressing, breakfasting, dining, sleeping,
+and no doubt praying; the precise moment that marked the beginning and
+ending of each task having been fixed years in advance by this most
+exemplary, highly respectable, and utterly colorless old gentleman of
+sixty.
+
+That this dry shell of a man could be the father of our spontaneous
+lovely Kate was one of the things that none of the younger people around
+Kennedy Square could understand--but then few of them had known her
+beautiful mother with her proud step and flashing eyes.
+
+But it is not the punctilious, methodical Prim whom St. George wishes to
+see to-night; nor does he go through any of the formalities customary to
+the house. There is no waiting until old Ben, the family butler in
+snuff-colored coat and silver buttons, shuffles upstairs or into the
+library, or wherever the inmates were to be found, there to announce
+"Massa George Temple." Nor did he send in his card, or wait until his
+knock was answered. He simply swung back the gate until the old chain
+and ball, shocked at his familiarity, rattled itself into a rage, strode
+past the neatly trimmed, fragrant box, pushed open the door--no front
+door was ever locked in the daytime in Kennedy Square, and few at
+night--and halting at the bottom step, called up the silent stairs in a
+voice that was a joyous greeting in itself:
+
+"Kate, you darling! come down as quick as your dear little feet will
+carry you! It's Uncle George, do you hear?--or shall I come up and bring
+you down in my arms, you bunch of roses? It won't be the first time."
+The first time was when she was a year old.
+
+"Oh!--is that you, Uncle George? Yes,--just as soon as I do up my back
+hair." The voice came from the top of the stairs--a lark's voice singing
+down from high up. "Father's out and--"
+
+"Yes--I know he's out; I met him on his way to the club. Hurry now--I've
+got the best news in the world for you."
+
+"Yes--in a minute."
+
+He knew her minutes, and how long they could be, and in his impatience
+roamed about the wide hall examining the old English engravings and
+colored prints decorating the panels until he heard her step overhead
+and looking up watched her cross the upper hall, her well-poised,
+aristocratic head high in air, her full, well-rounded, blossoming body
+imaged in the loose embroidered scarf wound about her sloping shoulders.
+Soon he caught the wealth of her blue-black hair in whose folds her
+negro mammy had pinned a rose that matched the brilliancy of her cheeks,
+two stray curls wandering over her neck; her broad forehead, with
+clearly marked eyebrows, arching black lashes shading lustrous,
+slumbering eyes; and as she drew nearer, her warm red lips, exquisite
+teeth, and delicate chin, and last, the little feet that played hide and
+seek beneath her quilted petticoat: a tall, dark, full-blooded, handsome
+girl of eighteen with an air of command and distinction tempered by a
+certain sweet dignity and delicious coquetry--a woman to be loved even
+when she ruled and to be reverenced even when she trifled.
+
+She had reached the floor now, and the two arm in arm, he patting her
+hand, she laughing beside him, had entered the small library followed by
+the old butler bringing another big candelabra newly lighted.
+
+"It's so good of you to come," she cried, her face alight with the joy
+of seeing him--"and you look so happy and well--your trip down the bay
+has done you a world of good. Ben says the ducks you sent father are the
+best we have had this winter. Now tell me, dear Uncle George"--she had
+him in one of the deep arm-chairs by this time, with a cushion behind
+his shoulders--"I am dying to hear all about it."
+
+"Don't you 'dear Uncle George' me until you've heard what I've got to
+say."
+
+"But you said you had the best news in the world for me," she laughed,
+looking at him from under her lashes.
+
+"So I have."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Harry."
+
+The girl's face clouded and her lips quivered. Then she sat bolt
+upright.
+
+"I won't hear a word about him. He's broken his promise to me and I will
+never trust him again. If I thought you'd come to talk about Harry, I
+wouldn't have come down."
+
+St. George lay back in his chair, shrugged his shoulders, stole a look
+at her from beneath his bushy eyebrows, and said with an assumed
+dignity, a smile playing about his lips:
+
+"All right, off goes his head--exit the scoundrel. Much as I could do to
+keep him out of Jones Falls this morning, but of course now it's all
+over we can let Spitfire break his neck. That's the way a gentleman
+should die of love--and not be fished out of a dirty stream with his
+clothes all bespattered with mud."
+
+"But he won't die for love. He doesn't know what love means or he
+wouldn't behave as he does. Do you know what really happened, Uncle
+George?" Her brown eyes were flashing, her cheeks aflame with her
+indignation.
+
+"Oh, I know exactly what happened. Harry told me with the tears running
+down his cheeks. It was dreadful--INEXCUSABLE--BARBAROUS! I've been that
+way myself--tumbled half-way down these same stairs before you were born
+and had to be put to bed, which accounts for the miserable scapegrace I
+am to-day." His face was in a broad smile, but his voice never wavered.
+
+Kate looked at him and put out her hand. "You never did--I won't believe
+a word of it."
+
+"Ask your father, my dear. He helped carry me upstairs, and Ben pulled
+off my boots. Oh, it was most disgraceful! I'm just beginning to live it
+down," and he reached over and patted the girl's cheek, his hearty laugh
+ringing through the room.
+
+Kate was smiling now--her Uncle George was always irresistible when he
+was like this.
+
+"But Harry isn't you," she pouted.
+
+"ISN'T ME!--why I was ten times worse! He's only twenty-one and I was
+twenty-five. He's got four years the better of me in which to reform."
+
+"He'll NEVER be like you--you never broke a promise in your life. He
+gave me his word of honor he would never get--yes--I'm just going to say
+it--drunk--again: yes--that's the very word--DRUNK! I don't care--I
+won't have it! I won't have anything to do with anybody who breaks his
+promise, and who can't keep sober. My father was never so in his life,
+and Harry shall never come near me again if he--"
+
+"Hold on!--HOLD ON! Oh, what an unforgiving minx! You Seymours are all
+like tinder boxes--your mother was just like you and so was--"
+
+"Well, not father," she bridled, with a toss of her head.
+
+St. George smiled queerly--Prim was one of his jokes. "Your father, my
+dear Kate, has the milk of human kindness in his veins, not red fighting
+blood. That makes a whole lot of difference. Now listen to me:--you love
+Harry--"
+
+"No! I DESPISE him! I told him so!" She had risen from her seat and had
+moved to the mantel, where she stood looking into the fire, her back
+toward him.
+
+"Don't you interrupt me, you blessed girl--just you listen to Uncle
+George for a minute. You DO love Harry--you can't help it--nobody can.
+If you had seen him this morning you would have thrown your arms around
+him in a minute--I came near doing it myself. Of course he's wild,
+reckless, and hot-headed like all the Rutters and does no end of foolish
+things, but you wouldn't love him if he was different. He's just like
+Spitfire--never keeps still a minute--restless, pawing the ground, or
+all four feet in the air--then away she goes! You can't reason with
+her--you don't wish to; you get impatient when she chafes at the bit
+because you are determined she shall keep still, but if you wanted her
+to go like the wind and she couldn't, you'd be more dissatisfied than
+ever. The pawing and chafing is of no matter; it is her temperament that
+counts. So it is with Harry. He wouldn't be the lovable, dashing,
+high-spirited young fellow he is if he didn't kick over the traces once
+in a while and break everything to pieces--his promises among them. And
+it isn't his fault--it's the Spanish and Dutch blood in his veins--the
+blood of that old hidalgo and his Dutch ancestor, De Ruyter--that crops
+out once in a while. Harry would be a pirate and sweep the Spanish main
+if he had lived in those days, instead of being a gentleman who values
+nothing in life so much as the woman he loves."
+
+He had been speaking to her back all this time, the girl never moving,
+the outlines of her graceful body in silhouette against the blaze.
+
+"Then why doesn't he prove it?" she sighed. She liked old hidalgos and
+had no aversion to pirates if they were manly and brave about their
+work.
+
+"He does--and he lives up to his standard except in this one failing for
+which I am truly sorry. Abominable I grant you--but there are many
+things which are worse."
+
+"I can't think of anything worse," she echoed with a deep sigh, walking
+slowly toward him and regaining her chair, all her anger gone, only the
+pain in her heart left. "I don't want Harry to be like the others, and
+he can't live their lives if he's going to be my husband. I want him to
+be different,--to be big and fine and strong,--like the men who have
+made the world better for their having lived in it--that old De Ruyter,
+for instance, that his father is always bragging about--not a weak,
+foolish boy whom everybody can turn around their fingers. Some of my
+girl friends don't mind what the young men do, or how often they break
+their word to them so that they are sure of their love. I do, and I
+won't have it, and I have told Harry so over and over again. It's such a
+cowardly thing--not to be man enough to stand up and say 'No--I won't
+drink with you!' That's why I say I can't think of his doing anything
+worse."
+
+St. George fixed his eyes upon her. He had thought he knew the girl's
+heart, but this was a revelation to him. Perhaps her sorrow, like that
+of her mother, was making a well-rounded woman of her.
+
+"Oh, I can think of a dozen things worse," he rejoined with some
+positiveness. "Harry might lie; Harry might be a coward; Harry might
+stand by and hear a friend defamed; Harry might be discourteous to a
+woman, or allow another man to be--a thing he'd rather die than permit.
+None of these things could he be or do. I'd shut my door in his face if
+he did any one of them, and so should you. And then he is so penitent
+when he has done anything wrong. 'It was my fault--I would rather hang
+myself than lose Kate. I haven't slept a wink, Uncle George.' And he was
+so handsome when he came in this morning--his big black eyes flashing,
+his cheeks like two roses--so straight and strong, and so graceful and
+wholesome and lovable. I wouldn't care, if I were you, if he did slip
+once in a while--not any more than I would if Spitfire stumbled. And
+then again"--here he moved his chair close to her own so he could get
+his hand on hers the easier--"if Spitfire does stumble, there is the
+bridle to pull her up, but for this she might break her neck. That's
+where you come in, Kate. Harry's in your hands--has been since the hour
+he loved you. Don't let him go headlong to the devil--and he will if you
+turn him loose without a bridle."
+
+"I can't do him any good--he won't mind anything I say. And what
+dependence can I place on him after this?" her voice sank to a tone of
+helpless tenderness. "It isn't his being drunk altogether; he will
+outgrow that, perhaps, as you say you did, and be man enough to say no
+next time; but it's because he broke his promise to me. That he will
+never outgrow! Oh, it's wicked!--wicked for him to treat me so. I have
+never done anything he didn't want me to do! and he has no right to--Oh,
+Uncle George, it's--"
+
+St. George leaned nearer and covered her limp fingers with his own
+tender grasp.
+
+"Try him once more, Kate. Let me send him to you. It will be all over in
+a minute and you will be so happy--both of you! Nothing like making up--
+it really pays for the pain of a quarrel."
+
+The outside door shut gently and there was a slight movement in the hall
+behind them, but neither of them noticed it. Kate sat with her head up,
+her mind at work, her eyes watching the firelight. It was her future she
+was looking into. She had positive, fixed ideas of what her station in
+life as a married woman should be;--not what her own or Harry's birth
+and position could bring her. With that will-o'-the-wisp she had no
+sympathy. Her grandfather in his early days had been a plain, seafaring
+man even if his ancestry did go back to the time of James I, and her
+mother had been a lady, and that too without the admixture of a single
+drop of the blood of any Kennedy Square aristocrat. That Harry was well
+born and well bred was as it should be, but there was something
+more;--the man himself. That was why she hesitated. Yes--it WOULD "all
+be over in a minute," just as Uncle George said, but when would the next
+break come? And then again there was her mother's life with all the
+misery that a broken promise had caused her. Uncle George was not the
+only young gallant who had been put to bed in her grandfather's house.
+Her mother had loved too--just as much as she loved Harry--loved with
+her whole soul--until grandpa Barkeley put his foot down.
+
+St. George waited in silence as he read her mind. Breaches between most
+of the boys and girls were easily patched up--a hearty cry, an
+outstretched hand--"I am so sorry," and they were in each other's arms.
+Not so with Kate. Her reason, as well as her heart, had to be satisfied.
+This was one of the things that made her different from all the other
+girls about her, and this too was what had given her first place in the
+affections and respect of all who knew her. Her heart he saw was
+uppermost to-night, but reason still lurked in the background.
+
+"What do you think made him do it again?" she murmured at last in a
+voice barely audible, her fingers tightening in his palm. "He knows how
+I suffer and he knows too WHY I suffer. Oh, Uncle George!--won't you
+please talk to him! I love him so, and I can't marry him if he's like
+this. I can't!--_I_ CAN'T!"
+
+A restrained smile played over St. George's face. The tide was setting
+his way.
+
+"It won't do a bit of good," he said calmly, smothering his joy. "I've
+talked to him until I'm tired, and the longer I talk the more wild he is
+to see you. Now it's your turn and there's no time to lose. I'll have
+him here in five minutes," and he glanced at the clock. She raised her
+hand in alarm:
+
+"I don't want him yet. You must see him first--you must--"
+
+"No, I won't see him first, and I'm not going to wait a minute. Talk to
+him yourself; put your arms around him and tell him everything you have
+told me--now--to-night. I'm going for him," and he sprang to his feet.
+
+"No!--you must not! You SHALL not!" she cried, clutching nervously at
+his arm, but he was out of the room before she could stop him.
+
+In the silent hall, hat in hand, his whole body tense with expectancy,
+stood Harry. He had killed time by walking up and down the long strip of
+carpet between the front door and the staircase, measuring his nervous
+steps to the length of the pattern, his mind distracted by his fears for
+the outcome--his heart thumping away at his throat, a dull fright
+gripping him when he thought of losing her altogether.
+
+St. George's quick step, followed by his firm clutch of the inside knob,
+awoke him to consciousness. He sprang forward to catch his first word.
+
+"Can I go in?" he stammered.
+
+St. George grabbed him by the shoulder, wheeled him around, and faced
+him.
+
+"Yes, you reprobate, and when you get in go down on your knees and beg
+her pardon, and if I ever catch you causing her another heartache I'll
+break your damned neck!--do you hear?"
+
+
+With the shutting of the swinging gate the wily old diplomat regained
+his normal good-humored poise, his face beaming, his whole body tingling
+at his success. He knew what was going on behind the closed curtains,
+and just how contrite and humble the boy would be, and how Kate would
+scold and draw herself up--proud duchess that she was--and how Harry
+would swear by the nine gods, and an extra one if need be--and then
+there would come a long, long silence, broken by meaningless,
+half-spoken words--and then another silence--so deep and absorbing that
+a full choir of angels might have started an anthem above their heads
+and neither of them would have heard a word or note.
+
+And so he kept on his way, picking his steps between the moist places in
+the path to avoid soiling his freshly varnished boots; tightening the
+lower button of his snug-fitting plum-colored coat as a bracing to his
+waist-line; throwing open the collar of his overcoat the wider to give
+his shoulders the more room--very happy--very well satisfied with
+himself, with the world, and with everybody who lived in it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+
+Moorlands was ablaze!
+
+From the great entrance gate flanked by moss-stained brick posts capped
+with stone balls, along the avenue of oaks to the wide portico leading
+to the great hall and spacious rooms, there flared one continuous burst
+of light. On either side of the oak-bordered driveway, between the
+tree-trunks, crackled torches of pine knots, the glow of their curling
+flames bringing into high relief the black faces of innumerable field-
+hands from the Rutter and neighboring plantations, lined up on either
+side of the gravel road--teeth and eyeballs flashing white against the
+blackness of the night. Under the porches hung festoons of lanterns of
+every conceivable form and color, while inside the wide baronial hall,
+and in the great drawing-room with the apartments beyond, the light of
+countless candles, clustered together in silver candelabras, shed a soft
+glow over the groups of waiting guests.
+
+To-night Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands, direct descendant of the
+house of De Ruyter, with an ancestry dating back to the Spanish
+Invasion, was to bid official welcome to a daughter of the house of
+Seymour, equally distinguished by flood and field in the service of its
+king. These two--God be thanked--loved each other, and now that the
+young heir to Moorlands was to bring home his affianced bride, soon to
+become his wedded wife, no honor could be too great, no expense too
+lavish, no welcome too joyful.
+
+Moreover, that this young princess of the blood might be accorded all
+the honors due her birth, lineage, and rank, the colonel's own
+coach-and-four, with two postilions and old Matthew on the box--twenty
+years in the service--his whip tied with forget-me-nots, the horses'
+ears streaming with white ribbons--each flank as smooth as satin and
+each panel bright as a mirror--had been trundled off to Kennedy Square,
+there to receive the fairest of all her daughters, together with such
+other members of her royal suite--including His Supreme Excellency the
+Honorable Prim--not forgetting, of course, Kate's old black mammy,
+Henny, who was as much a part of the fair lady's belongings when she
+went afield as her ostrich-plume fan, her white gloves, or the wee
+slippers that covered her enchanting feet.
+
+Every detail of harness, wheel, and brake--even the horn itself--had
+passed under the colonel's personal supervision; Matthew on the box
+straight as a hitching-post and bursting with pride, reins gathered,
+whip balanced, the leaders steady and the wheel horses in line. Then the
+word had been given, and away they had swept round the circle and so on
+down the long driveway to the outer gate and Kennedy Square. Ten miles
+an hour were the colonel's orders and ten miles an hour must Matthew
+make, including the loading and unloading of his fair passenger and her
+companions, or there would be the devil to pay on his return.
+
+And the inside of the house offered no less a welcome. Drawn up in the
+wide hall, under the direct command of old Alec, the head butler, were
+the house servants;--mulatto maids in caps, snuff-colored second butlers
+in livery, jet-black mammies in new bandannas and white aprons--all in a
+flutter of excitement, and each one determined to get the first glimpse
+of Marse Harry's young lady, no matter at what risk.
+
+Alec himself was a joy to look upon--eyeballs and teeth gleaming, his
+face one wide, encircling smile. Marse Harry was the apple of his eye,
+and had been ever since the day of his birth. He had carried him on his
+back when a boy; had taught him to fish and hunt and to ride to hounds;
+had nursed him when he fell ill at the University in his college days,
+and would gladly have laid down his life for him had any such necessity
+arisen. To-night, in honor of the occasion, he was rigged out in a new
+bottle-green coat with shiny brass buttons, white waistcoat, white
+gloves three sizes too big for him, and a huge white cravat flaring out
+almost to the tips of his ears. Nothing was too good for Alec--so his
+mistress thought--and for the best of reasons. Not only was he the ideal
+servant of the old school, but he was the pivot on which the whole
+establishment moved. If a particular brand or vintage was needed, or a
+key was missing, or did a hair trunk, or a pair of spurs, or last week's
+Miscellany, go astray--or even were his mistress's spectacles
+mislaid--Alec could put his hand upon each and every item in so short a
+space of time that the loser was convinced the old man had hidden them
+on purpose, to enjoy their refinding. Moorlands without old Alec would
+hive been a wheel without a hub.
+
+As a distinct feature of all these preparations--and this was the best
+part of the programme--Harry was to meet Kate at the outer gate
+supported by half a dozen of his young friends and hers--Dr. Teackle,
+Mark Gilbert, Langdon Willits, and one or two others--while Mrs.
+Rutter, Mrs. Cheston, Mrs. Richard Horn, and a bevy of younger women and
+girls were to welcome her with open arms the moment her dainty feet
+cleared the coach's step. This was the way princesses of the blood had
+been welcomed from time immemorial to palaces and castles high, and this
+was the way their beloved Kate was to make entry into the home of her
+lord.
+
+Soon the flash of the coach lamps was seen outside the far gate. Then
+there came the wind of a horn--a rollicking, rolling, gladsome sound,
+and in the wink of an eyelid every one was out on the portico straining
+their eyes, listening eagerly. A joyous shout now went up from the
+negroes lining the fences; from the groups about the steps and along the
+driveway.
+
+"Here she comes!"
+
+The leaders with a swing pranced into view as they cleared the gate
+posts. There came a moment's halt at the end of the driveway; a
+postilion vaulted down, threw wide the coach door and a young man sprang
+in. It was Harry! ... Snap!! Crack!! Toot--toot!!--and they were off
+again, heading straight for the waiting group. Another prolonged,
+winding note--louder--nearer--one of triumph this time!--a galloping,
+circling dash toward the porch crowded with guests--the reining in of
+panting leaders--the sudden gathering up of the wheel horses, back on
+their haunches--the coach door flung wide and out stepped Kate--
+Harry's hand in hers, her old mammy behind, her father last of all.
+
+"Oh, such a lovely drive! and it was so kind of you, dear colonel, to
+send for me! Oh, it was splendid! And Matthew galloped most all the
+way." She had come as a royal princess, but she was still our Kate. "And
+you are all out here to meet me!" Here she kissed Harry's mother--"and
+you too, Uncle George--and Sue--Oh, how fine you all look!"--and with a
+curtsy and a joyous laugh and a hand-clasp here and there, she bent her
+head and stepped into the wide hall under the blaze of the clustered
+candles.
+
+It was then that they caught their breaths, for no such vision of beauty
+had ever before stood in the wide hall of Moorlands, her eyes shining
+like two stars above the rosy hue of her cheek; her skin like a shell,
+her throat and neck a lily in color and curves. And her poise; her
+gladsomeness; her joy at being alive and at finding everybody else
+alive; the way she moved and laughed and bent her pretty head; the
+ripples of gay laughter and the low-pitched tone of the warm greetings
+that fell from her lips!
+
+No wonder Harry was bursting with pride; no wonder Langdon Willits
+heaved a deep sigh when he caught the glance that Kate flashed at Harry
+and went out on the porch to get a breath of fresh air; no wonder St.
+George's heart throbbed as he watched them both and thought how near all
+this happiness had come to being wrecked; no wonder the servants tumbled
+over each other in their eagerness to get a view of her face and gown,
+and no wonder, too, that the proud, old colonel who ruled his house with
+a rod of iron, determined for the first time in his life to lay down the
+sceptre and give Kate and Harry full sway to do whatever popped into
+their two silly heads.
+
+And our young Lochinvar was fully her match in bearing, dress, and
+manners,--every inch a prince and every inch a Rutter,--and with such
+grace of movement as he stepped beside her, that even punctilious,
+outspoken old Mrs. Cheston--who had forgiven him his escapade, and who
+was always laughing at what she called the pump-handle shakes of some of
+the underdone aristocrats about her, had to whisper to the nearest
+guest--"Watch Harry, my dear, if you would see how a thoroughbred
+manages his legs and arms when he wishes to do honor to a woman.
+Admirable!--charming! No young man of my time ever did better." And
+Mrs. Cheston knew, for she had hobnobbed with kings and queens, her
+husband having represented his government at the Court of St.
+James--which fact, however, never prevented her from calling a spade a
+spade; nor was she ever very particular as to what the spade unearthed.
+
+Yes--a very gallant and handsome young man was our prince as he handed
+Kate up the stairs on her way to the dressing-room, and looked it in his
+pearl-gray coat with buttons of silver, fluffy white silk scarf, high
+dog-eared collar, ivory-white waistcoat, and tight-fitting trousers of
+nankeen yellow, held close to the pumps with invisible straps. And a
+very gallant and handsome young fellow he felt himself to be on this
+night of his triumph, and so thought Kate--in fact she had fallen in
+love with him over again--and so too did every one of the young girls
+who crowded about them, as well as the dominating, erect aristocrat of a
+father, and the anxious gentle mother, who worshipped the ground on
+which he walked.
+
+Kate had noted every expression that crossed his face, absorbing him in
+one comprehensive glance as he stood in the full blaze of the candles,
+her gaze lingering on his mouth and laughing eyes and the soft sheen of
+his brown hair, its curved-in ends brushing the high velvet collar of
+his coat--and so on down his shapely body to his shapely feet. Never had
+she seen him so adorable--and he was all her own, and for life!
+
+As for our dear St. George Temple, who had never taken his eyes off
+them, he thought they were the goodliest pair the stars ever shone upon,
+and this his happiest night. There would be no more stumbling after
+this. Kate had the bridle well in hand now; all she needed was a clear
+road, and that was ahead of both horse and rider.
+
+"Makes your blood jump in your veins, just to look at them, doesn't it,
+Talbot?" cried St. George to Harry's father when Kate
+disappeared--laying his hand as he spoke on the shoulder of the man with
+whom he had grown up from a boy. "Is there anything so good as the love
+of a good woman?--the wise old prophet places her beyond the price of
+rubies."
+
+"Only one thing, St. George--the love of a good man--one like yourself,
+you dear old fellow. And why the devil you haven't found that out years
+ago is more than I can understand. Here you are my age, and you might
+have had a Kate and Harry of your own by this time, and yet you live a
+stupid old--"
+
+"No, I won't hear you talk so, colonel!" cried a bride of a year. "Uncle
+George is never stupid, and he couldn't be old. What would all these
+young girls do--what would I have done" (another love affair with St.
+George as healer and mender!)--"what would anybody have done without
+him? Come, Miss Lavinia--do you hear the colonel abusing Uncle George
+because he isn't married? Speak up for him--it's wicked of you, colonel,
+to talk so."
+
+Miss Lavinia Clendenning, who was one of St. George's very own, in spite
+of her forty-odd years, threw back her head until the feathers in her
+slightly gray hair shook defiantly:
+
+"No--I won't say a word for him, Sue. I've given him up forever. He's a
+disgrace to everybody who knows him."
+
+"Oh, you renegade!" exclaimed St. George in mock alarm.
+
+"Yes,--a positive disgrace! He'll never marry anybody, Sue, until he
+marries me. I've begged him on my knees until I'm tired, to name the
+day, and he won't! Just like all you shiftless Marylanders, sir--never
+know when to make up your minds."
+
+"But you threw me over, Lavinia, and broke my heart," laughed Temple
+with a low bow, his palms flattened against his waistcoat in assumed
+humility.
+
+"When?"
+
+"Oh, twenty years ago."
+
+"Oh, my goodness gracious! Of course I threw you over then;--you were
+just a baby in arms and I was old enough to be your mother--but now it's
+different. I'm dying to get married and nobody wants me. If you were a
+Virginian instead of a doubting Marylander, you would have asked me a
+hundred times and kept on asking until I gave in. Now it's too late. I
+always intended to give in, but you were so stupid you couldn't or
+wouldn't understand."
+
+"It's never too late to mend, Lavinia," he prayed with hands extended.
+
+"It's too late to mend you, St. George! You are cracked all over, and as
+for me--I'm ready to fall to pieces any minute. I'm all tied up now with
+corset laces and stays and goodness knows what else. No--I'm done with
+you."
+
+While this merry badinage was going on, the young people crowding the
+closer so as not to lose a word, or making room for the constant stream
+of fresh arrivals on their way toward the dressing-rooms above, their
+eyes now and then searching the top of the stairs in the hope of getting
+the first glimpse of Kate, our heroine was receiving the final touches
+from her old black mammy. It took many minutes. The curl must be
+adjusted, the full skirts pulled out or shaken loose, the rare jewels
+arranged before she was dismissed with--"Dah, honey chile, now go-long.
+Ain't nary one on 'em ain't pizen hongry for ye--any mos' on 'em 'll
+drown derselves 'fo' mawnin' becos dey can't git ye."
+
+She is ready now, Harry beside her, her lace scarf embroidered with pink
+rosebuds floating from her lovely shoulders, her satin skirt held firmly
+in both hands that she might step the freer, her dainty silk stockings
+with the ribbons crossed about her ankles showing below its edge.
+
+But it was the colonel who took possession of her when she reached the
+floor of the great hall, and not her father nor her lover.
+
+"No, Harry--stand aside, sir. Out with you! Kate goes in with me!
+Seymour, please give your arm to Mrs. Rutter." And with the manner of a
+courtier leading a princess into the presence of her sovereign, the Lord
+of Moorlands swept our Lady of Kennedy Square into the brilliant
+drawing-room crowded with guests.
+
+
+It was a great ball and it was a great ballroom--in spaciousness,
+color, and appointments. No one had ever dreamed of its possibilities
+before, although everybody knew it was the largest in the county. The
+gentle hostess, with old Alec as head of the pulling-out-and-moving-off
+department, had wrought the change. All the chairs, tables, sofas, and
+screens, little and big, had either been spirited away or pushed back
+against the wall for tired dancers. Over the wide floor was stretched a
+linen crash; from the ceiling and bracketed against the white walls,
+relieved here and there by long silken curtains of gold-yellow, blazed
+clusters of candles, looking for all the world like so many bursting
+sky-rockets, while at one end, behind a mass of flowering plants, sat a
+quartette of musicians, led by an old darky with a cotton-batting head,
+who had come all the way from Philadelphia a-purpose.
+
+Nor had the inner man been forgotten: bowls of hot apple toddy steamed
+away in the dining-room; bowls of eggnog frothed away in the library;
+ladlings of punch, and the contents of several old cut-glass decanters,
+flanked by companies of pipe-stem glasses, were being served in the
+dressing-rooms; while relays of hot terrapin, canvas-back duck, sizzling
+hot; olio, cold joints; together with every conceivable treatment and
+condition of oysters--in scallop shells, on silver platters and in
+wooden plates--raw, roasted, fried, broiled, baked, and
+stewed--everything in fact that could carry out the colonel's watchword,
+"Eat, drink, and be merry," were within the beck and call of each and
+every guest.
+
+And there were to be no interludes of hunger and thirst if the host
+could help it. No dull pauses nor recesses, but one continued round,
+lasting until midnight, at which hour the final banquet in the
+dining-room was to be served, and the great surprise of the evening
+reached--the formal announcement of Harry and Kate's engagement,
+followed by the opening of the celebrated bottle of the Jefferson 1800
+Monticello Madeira, recorked at our young hero's birth.
+
+And it goes without saying that there were no interludes. The fun began
+at once, a long line of merry talk and laughter following the wake of
+the procession, led by the host and Kate, the colonel signalling at last
+to the cotton-batting with the goggle spectacles, who at once struck up
+a polka and away they all went, Harry and Kate in the lead, the whole
+room in a whirl.
+
+This over and the dancers out of breath, Goggles announced a
+quadrille--the colonel and St. George helping to form the sets. Then
+followed the schottische, then another polka until everybody was tired
+out, and then with one accord the young couples rushed from the hot
+room, hazy with the dust of lint from the linen crash, and stampeded for
+the cool wide stairs that led from the great hall. For while in summer
+the shadows on some vine-covered porch swallowed the lovers, in winter
+the stairs were generally the trysting-place--and the top step the one
+most sought--because there was nobody behind to see. This was the roost
+for which Kate and Harry scampered, and there they intended to sit until
+the music struck up again.
+
+"Oh, Kate, you precious darling, how lovely you look!" burst out Harry
+for the hundredth time when she had nestled down beside him--"and what a
+wonderful gown! I never saw that one before, did I?"
+
+"No--you never have," she panted, her breath gone from her dance and the
+dash for the staircase. "It's my dear mother's dress, and her scarf too.
+I had very little done to it--only the skirt made wider. Isn't it soft
+and rich? Grandpa used to bring these satins from China."
+
+"And the pearls--are they the ones you told me about?" He was adjusting
+them to her throat as he spoke--somehow he could not keep his hands from
+her.
+
+"Yes--mother's jewels. Father got them out of his strong-box for me this
+morning. He wanted me to wear them to-night. He says I can have them all
+now. She must have been very beautiful, Harry--and just think, dear--she
+was only a few years older than I am when she died. Sometimes when I
+wear her things and get to thinking about her, and remember how young
+and beautiful she was and how unhappy her life, it seems as if I must be
+unhappy myself--somehow as if it were not right to have all this
+happiness when she had none." There was a note of infinite pathos in her
+voice--a note one always heard when she spoke of her mother. Had Harry
+looked deeper into her eyes he might have found the edges of two tears
+trembling on their lids.
+
+"She never was as beautiful as you, my darling--nobody ever was--nobody
+ever could be!" he cried, ignoring all allusion to her mother. Nothing
+else counted with the young fellow to-night--all he knew and cared for
+was that Kate was his very own, and that all the world would soon know
+it.
+
+"That's because you love me, Harry. You have only to look at her
+portrait in father's room to see how exquisite she was. I can never be
+like her--never so gracious, so patient, no matter how hard I try."
+
+He put his fingers on her lips: "I won't have you say it. I won't let
+anybody say it. I could hardly speak when I saw you in the full light of
+the hall. It was so dark in the coach I didn't know how you looked, and
+I didn't care; I was so glad to get hold of you. But when your cloak
+slipped from your shoulders and you--Oh!--you darling Kate!" His eye
+caught the round of her throat and the taper of her lovely arm--"I am
+going to kiss you right here--I will--I don't care who--"
+
+She threw up her hands with a little laugh. She liked him the better for
+daring, although she was afraid to yield.
+
+"No--NO--Harry! They will see us--don't--you mustn't!"
+
+"Mustn't what! I tell you, Kate, I am going to kiss you--I don't care
+what you say or who sees me. It's been a year since I kissed you in the
+coach--forty years--now, you precious Kate, what difference does it
+make? I will, I tell you--no--don't turn your head away."
+
+She was struggling feebly, her elbow across her face as a shield,
+meaning all the time to raise her lips to his, when her eyes fell on the
+figure of a young man making his way toward them. Instantly her back
+straightened.
+
+"There's Langdon Willits at the bottom of the stairs talking to Mark
+Gilbert," she whispered in dismay. "See--he is coming up. I wonder what
+he wants."
+
+Harry gathered himself together and his face clouded. "I wish he was at
+the bottom of the sea. I don't like Willits--I never did. Neither does
+Uncle George. Besides, he's in love with you, and he always has been."
+
+"What nonsense, Harry," she answered, opening her fan and waving it
+slowly. She knew her lover was right--knew more indeed than her lover
+could ever know: she had used all the arts of which she was mistress to
+keep Willits from proposing.
+
+"But he IS in love with you," Harry insisted stiffly. "Won't he be
+fighting mad, though, when he hears father announce our engagement at
+supper?" Then some tone in her voice recalled that night on the sofa
+when she still held out against his pleading, and with it came the
+thought that while she could be persuaded she could never be driven.
+Instantly his voice changed to its most coaxing tones: "You won't dance
+with him, will you, Kate darling? I can't bear to see you in anybody
+else's arms but my own."
+
+Her hand grasped his wrist with a certain meaning in the pressure.
+
+"Now don't be a goose, Harry. I must be polite to everybody, especially
+to-night--and you wouldn't have me otherwise."
+
+"Yes, but not to him."
+
+"But what difference does it make? You are too sensible not to
+understand, and I am too happy, anyway, to want to be rude to anybody.
+And then you should never be jealous of Langdon Willits."
+
+"Well, then, not a round dance, please, Kate." He dare not oppose her
+further. "I couldn't stand a round dance. I won't have his arm touch
+you, my darling." And he bent his cheek close to hers.
+
+She looked at him from under her shadowed lids as she had looked at St.
+George when she greeted him at the foot of the stairs; a gleam of
+coquetry, of allurement, of joy shining through her glances like
+delicate antennae searching to feel where her power lay. Should she
+venture, as her Uncle George had suggested, to take the reins in her own
+hands and guide this restive, mettlesome thoroughbred, or should she
+surrender to him? Then a certain mischievous coquetry possessed her.
+With a light, bubbling laugh she drew her cheek away.
+
+"Yes, any kind of a dance that he or anybody else wants that I can give
+him," she burst out with a coquettish twist of her head, her eyes
+brimming with fun.
+
+"But I'm on your card for every single dance," he demanded, his eyes
+again flashing. "Look at it--I filled it up myself," and he held up his
+own bit of paste-board so she could read the list. "I tell you I won't
+have his arm around you!"
+
+"Well, then, he sha'n't touch even the tips of my fingers, you dreadful
+Mr. Bluebeard." She had surrendered now. He was never so compelling as
+when determined to have his own way. Again her whole manner changed; she
+was once more the sweetheart: "Don't let us bother about cards, my
+darling, or dances, or anything. Let us talk of how lovely it is to be
+together again. Don't you think so, Harry?" and she snuggled the closer
+to his arm, her soft cheek against his coat.
+
+Before Harry could answer, young Willits, who had been edging his way up
+the stairs two steps at a time, avoiding the skirts of the girls,
+reaching over the knees of the men as he clung to the hand-rail, stood
+on the step below them.
+
+"It's my next dance, Miss Kate, isn't it?" he asked eagerly, scanning
+her face--wondering why she looked so happy.
+
+"What is it to be, Mr. Willits?" she rejoined in perfunctory tones,
+glancing at her own blank card hanging to her wrist: he was the last man
+in the world she wanted to see at this moment.
+
+"The schottische, I think--yes, the schottische," he replied nervously,
+noticing her lack of warmth and not understanding the cause.
+
+"Oh, I'm all out of breath--if you don't mind," she continued evasively;
+"we'll wait for the next one." She dared not invite him to sit down,
+knowing it would make Harry furious--and then again she couldn't stand
+one discordant note to-night--she was too blissfully happy.
+
+"But the next one is mine," exclaimed Harry suddenly, examining his own
+dancing-card. He had not shifted his position a hair's breadth, nor did
+he intend to--although he had been outwardly polite to the intruder.
+
+"Yes--they'd all be yours, Harry, if you had your way," this in a thin,
+dry tone--"but you mustn't forget that Miss Kate's free, white, and
+twenty-one, and can do as she pleases."
+
+Harry's lips straightened. He did not like Willits's manner and he was
+somewhat shocked at his expression; it seemed to smack more of the cabin
+than of the boudoir--especially the boudoir of a princess like his
+precious Kate. He noticed, too, that the young man's face was flushed
+and his utterance unusually rapid, and he knew what had caused it.
+
+"They will be just what Miss Seymour wants them to be, Willits." The
+words came in hard, gritting tones through half-closed lips, and the
+tightening of his throat muscles. This phase of the Rutter blood was
+dangerous.
+
+Kate was startled. Harry must not lose his self-control. There must be
+no misunderstandings on this the happiest night of her life.
+
+"Yes," she said sweetly, with a gracious bend of her head--"but I do
+want to dance with Mr. Willits, only I don't know which one to give
+him."
+
+"Then give me the Virginia reel, Miss Kate, the one that comes just
+before supper, and we can go all in together--you too, Harry," Willits
+insisted eagerly. "See, Miss Kate--your card is still empty," and he
+turned toward her the face of the one hanging to her wrist.
+
+"No, never the reel, Kate, that is mine!" burst out Harry determinedly,
+as a final dismissal to Willits. He lowered his voice, and in a
+beseeching tone said--"Father's set his heart on our dancing the reel
+together--please don't give him the reel!"
+
+Kate, intent on restoring harmony, arched her neck coyly, and said in
+her most bewitching tones--the notes of a robin after a shower: "Well, I
+can't tell yet, Mr. Willits, but you shall have one or the other; just
+leave it to me--either the reel or the schottische. We will talk it over
+when I come down."
+
+"Then it's the reel, Miss Kate, is it not?" he cried, ignoring Harry
+completely, backing away as he retraced his steps, a look of triumph on
+his face.
+
+She shook her head at him, but she did not answer. She wanted to get rid
+of him as quickly as possible. Willits had spoiled everything. She was
+so happy before he came, and Harry was so adorable. She wished now she
+had not drawn away her cheek when he tried to kiss her.
+
+"Don't be angry, Harry, dear," she pleaded coaxingly, determined to get
+her lover back once more. "He didn't mean anything--he only wanted to be
+polite."
+
+"He didn't want to be polite," the angry lover retorted. "He meant to
+force himself in between us; that is what he meant, and he's always at
+it, every chance he gets. He tried it at Mrs. Cheston's the other night
+until I put a stop to it, but there's one thing certain--he'll stop it
+when our engagement is announced after supper or I'll know the reason
+why."
+
+Kate caught her breath. A new disturbing thought entered her mind. It
+was at Mrs. Cheston's that both Willits and Harry had misbehaved
+themselves, and it was Harry's part in the sequel which she had
+forgiven. The least said about that night the better.
+
+"But he is your guest, Harry," she urged at last, still determined to
+divert his thoughts from Willits and the loss of the dance--"OUR guest,"
+she went on--"so is everybody else here to-night, and we must do what
+everybody wants us to, not be selfish about it. Now, my darling--you
+couldn't be impolite to anybody--don't you know you couldn't? Mrs.
+Cheston calls you 'My Lord Chesterfield'--I heard her say so to-night."
+
+"Yes, I know, Kate"--he softened--"that's what father said about my
+being polite to him--but all the same I didn't want Willits invited, and
+it's only because father insisted that he's here. Of course, I'm going
+to be just as polite to him as I can, but even father would feel
+differently about him if he had heard what he said to you a minute ago."
+
+"What did he say?" She knew, but she loved to hear him defend her. This,
+too, was a way out--in a minute he would be her old Harry again.
+
+"I won't even repeat it," he answered doggedly.
+
+"You mean about my being twenty-one? That was rather ungallant, wasn't
+it?"
+
+Again that long look from under her eyelids--he would have succumbed at
+once could he have seen it.
+
+"No, the other part of it. That's not the way to speak to a lady. That's
+what I dislike him for. He never was born a gentleman. He isn't a
+gentleman and never can be a gentleman."
+
+Kate drew herself up--the unreasonableness of the objection jarred upon
+her. He had touched one of her tender spots--pride of birth was
+something she detested.
+
+"Don't talk nonsense, Harry," she replied in a slightly impatient voice.
+Moods changed with our Kate as unexpectedly as April showers. "What
+difference should it make to you or anybody else whether Langdon
+Willits's grandmother was a countess or a country girl, so she was
+honest and a lady?" Her head went up with a toss as she spoke, for this
+was one of Kate's pet theories.
+
+"But he's not of my class, Kate, and he shouldn't be here. I told father
+so."
+
+"Then make him one," she answered stoutly, "if only for to-night, by
+being extra polite and courteous to him and never letting him feel that
+he is outside of what you call 'your class.' I like Mr. Willits, and
+have always liked him. He is invariably polite to me, and he can be very
+kind and sympathetic at times. Listen! they are calling us, and there
+goes the music--come along, darling--it's a schottische and we'll dance
+it together."
+
+Harry sprang up, slipped his arm around Kate's waist, lifted her to her
+feet, held her close, and kissed her squarely on the mouth.
+
+"There, you darling! and another one--two--three! Oh, you precious! What
+do I care about Willits or any other red-headed lower county man that
+ever lived? He can have fifty grandmothers if he pleases and I won't say
+a word--kiss me--kiss me again. Quick now or we'll lose the dance," and,
+utterly oblivious as to whether any one had seen them or not, the two
+raced down the wide stairs.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+
+While all this gayety was going on in the ballroom another and equally
+joyous gathering was besieging the serving tables in the colonel's
+private den--a room leading out of the larger supper room, where he kept
+his guns and shooting togs, and which had been pressed into service for
+this one night.
+
+These thirsty gentlemen were of all ages and tastes, from the young men
+just entering society to the few wrinkled bald-pates whose legs had
+given out and who, therefore, preferred the colonel's Madeira and
+terrapin to the lighter pleasures of the dance.
+
+In and out of the groups, his ruddy, handsome face radiant with the joy
+that welled up in his heart, moved St. George Temple. Never had he been
+in finer form or feather--never had he looked so well--(not all the
+clothes that Poole of London cut came to Moorlands). Something of the
+same glow filtered through him that he had felt on the night when the
+two lovers had settled their difficulties, and he had swung back through
+the park at peace with all the world.
+
+All this could be seen in the way he threw back his head, smiling right
+and left; the way he moved his hands--using them as some men do words or
+their eyebrows--now uplifting them in surprise at the first glimpse of
+some unexpected face, his long delicate fingers outspread in
+exclamations of delight; now closing them tight when he had those of the
+new arrival in his grasp--now curving them, palms up, as he lifted to
+his lips the fingers of a grande dame. "Keep your eyes on St. George,"
+whispered Mrs. Cheston, who never missed a point in friend or foe and
+whose fun at a festivity often lay in commenting on her neighbors,
+praise or blame being impartially mixed as her fancy was touched. "And
+by all means watch his hands, my dear. They are like the baton of an
+orchestra leader and tell the whole story. Only men whose blood and
+lineage have earned them freedom from toil, or men whose brains throb
+clear to their finger-tips, have such hands. Yes! St. George is very
+happy to-night, and I know why. He has something on his mind that he
+means to tell us later on."
+
+Mrs. Cheston was right: she generally was--St. George did have something
+on his mind--something very particular on his mind--a little speech
+really which was a dead secret to everybody except prying Mrs.
+Cheston--one which was to precede the uncorking of that wonderful old
+Madeira, and the final announcement of the engagement--a little speech
+in which he meant to refer to their two dear mothers when they were
+girls, recalling traits and episodes forgotten by most, but which from
+their very loveliness had always lingered in his heart and memory.
+
+Before this important event took place, however, there were some matters
+which he intended to look after himself, one of them being the bowl of
+punch and its contiguous beverages in the colonel's den. This seemed to
+be the storm centre to-night, and here he determined, even at the risk
+of offending his host, to set up danger-signals at the first puff of
+wind. The old fellows, if they chose, might empty innumerable ladles
+full of apple toddy or compounds of Santa Cruz rum and pineapples into
+their own persons, but not the younger bloods! His beloved Kate had
+suffered enough because of these roysterers. There should be one ball
+around Kennedy Square in which everybody would behave themselves, and he
+did not intend to mince his words when the time came. He had discussed
+the matter with the colonel when the ball opened, but little
+encouragement came from that quarter.
+
+"So far as these young sprigs are concerned, St. George," Rutter had
+flashed back, "they must look out for themselves. I can't curtail my
+hospitality to suit their babyships. As for Harry, you're only wasting
+your time. He is made of different stuff--it's not in his blood and
+couldn't be. Whatever else he may become he will never be a sot. Let him
+have his fling: once a Rutter, always a Rutter," and then, with a ring
+in his voice, "when my son ceases to be a gentleman, St. George, I will
+show him the door, but drink will never do it."
+
+Dr. Teackle had also been on the alert. He was a young physician just
+coming into practice, many of the younger set being his patients, and he
+often acted as a curb when they broke loose. He, with St. George's
+whispered caution in his ears, had also tried to frame a word of protest
+to the colonel, suggesting in the mildest way that that particular bowl
+of apple toddy be not replenished--but the Lord of the Manor had
+silenced him with a withering glance before he had completed his
+sentence. In this dilemma he had again sought out St. George.
+
+"Look out for Willits, Uncle George. He'll be staggering in among the
+ladies if he gets another crack at that toddy. It's an infernal shame to
+bring these relays of punch in here. I tried to warn the colonel, but he
+came near eating me up. Willits has had very little experience in this
+sort of thing and is mixing his eggnog with everything within his reach.
+That will split his head wide open in the morning."
+
+"Go and find him, Teackle, and bring him to me," cried St. George; "I'll
+stay here until you get him. Tell him I want to see him--and Alec"--this
+to the old butler who was skimming past, his hands laden with
+dishes--"don't you bring another drop of punch into this room until you
+see me."
+
+"But de colonel say dat--"
+
+"--I don't care what the colonel says; if he wants to know why, tell him
+I ordered it. I'm not going to have this night spoiled by any tomfoolery
+of Talbot's, I don't care what he says. You hear me, Alec? Not a drop.
+Take out those half-empty bowls and don't you serve another thimbleful
+of anything until I say so." Here he turned to the young doctor, who
+seemed rather surprised at St. George's dictatorial air--one rarely seen
+in him. "Yes--brutal, I know, Teackle, and perhaps a little
+ill-mannered, this interfering with another man's hospitality, but if
+you knew how Kate has suffered over this same stupidity you would say I
+was right. Talbot never thinks--never cares. Because he's got a head as
+steady as a town clock and can put away a bottle of port without winking
+an eyelid, he believes anybody else can do the same. I tell you this
+sort of thing has got to stop or sooner or later these young bloods will
+break the hearts of half the girls in town. ... Careful! here comes
+Willits--not another word. ... Oh, Mr. Willits, here you are! I was
+just going to send for you. I want to talk to you about that mare of
+yours--is she still for sale?" His nonchalance was delightful.
+
+"No, Mr. Temple; I had thought of keeping her, sir," the young man
+rejoined blandly, greatly flattered at having been specially singled out
+by the distinguished Mr. Temple. "But if you are thinking of buying my
+mare, I should be most delighted to consider it. If you will permit
+me--I will call upon you in the morning." This last came with elaborate
+effusiveness. "But you haven't a drop of anything to drink, Mr. Temple,
+nor you either, doctor! Egad! What am I thinking of! Come, won't you
+join me? The colonel's mixtures are--"
+
+"Better wait, Mr. Willits," interrupted St. George calmly and with the
+air of one conversant with the resources of the house. "Alec has just
+taken out a half-emptied bowl of toddy." He had seen at a glance that
+Teackle's diagnosis of the young man's condition was correct.
+
+"Then let us have a swig at the colonel's port--it's the best in the
+county."
+
+"No, hold on till the punch comes. You young fellows don't know how to
+take care of your stomachs. You ought to stick to your tipple as you do
+to your sweetheart--you should only have one."
+
+"--At a time," laughed Teackle.
+
+"No, one ALL the time, you dog! When I was your age, Mr. Willits, if I
+drank Madeira I continued to drink Madeira, not to mix it up with
+everything on the table."
+
+"By Jove, you're right, Mr. Temple! I'm sticking to one girl--Miss
+Kate's my girl to-night. I'm going to dance the Virginia reel with her."
+
+St. George eyed him steadily. He saw that the liquor had already reached
+his head or he would not have spoken of Kate as he did. "Your choice is
+most admirable, Mr. Willits," he said suavely, "but let Harry have Miss
+Kate to-night," adding, as he laid his hand confidingly on the young
+man's shoulder--"they were made to step that dance together."
+
+"But she said she would dance it with me!" he flung back--he did not
+mean to be defrauded.
+
+"Really?" It was wonderful how soft St. George's voice could be. Teackle
+could not have handled a refractory patient the better.
+
+"Well, that is," rejoined Willits, modified by Temple's tone--"she is to
+let me know--that was the bargain."
+
+Still another soft cadence crept into St. George's voice: "Well, even if
+she did say she would let you know, do be a little generous. Miss
+Seymour is always so obliging; but she ought really to dance the reel
+with Harry to-night." He used Kate's full name, but Willits's head was
+buzzing too loudly for him to notice the delicately suggested rebuke.
+
+"Well, I don't see that, and I'm not going to see it, either. Harry's
+always coming in between us; he tried to get Miss Kate away from me a
+little while ago, but he didn't succeed."
+
+"Noblesse oblige, my dear Mr. Willits," rejoined St. George in a more
+positive tone. "He is host, you know, and the ball is given to Miss
+Seymour, and Harry can do nothing else but be attentive." He felt like
+strangling the cub, but it was neither the time nor place--nothing
+should disturb Kate's triumph if he could help it. One way was to keep
+Willits sober, and this he intended to do whether the young man liked it
+or not--if he talked to him all night.
+
+"But it is my dance," Willits broke out. "You ask him if it isn't my
+dance--he heard what Miss Kate said. Here comes Harry now."
+
+Like a breath of west wind our young prince blew in, his face radiant,
+his eyes sparkling. He had entirely forgotten the incident on the stairs
+in the rapture of Kate's kisses, and Willits was once more one of the
+many guests he was ready to serve and be courteous to.
+
+"Ah, gentlemen--I hope you have everything you want!" he cried with a
+joyous wave of his hand. "Where will I get an ice for Kate, Uncle
+George? We are just about beginning the Virginia reel and she is so
+warm. Oh, we have had such a lovely waltz! Why are you fellows not
+dancing? Send them in, Uncle George." He was brimming over with
+happiness.
+
+Willits moved closer: "What did you say? The Virginia reel? Has it
+begun?" His head was too muddled for quick thinking.
+
+"Not yet, Willits, but it will right away--everybody is on the floor
+now," returned Harry, his eyes in search of something to hold Kate's
+refreshment.
+
+"Then it is my dance, Harry. I thought the reel was to be just before
+supper or I would have hunted Miss Kate up."
+
+"So it is," laughed Harry, catching up an empty plate from the serving
+table and moving to where the ices were spread. "You ought to know, for
+you told her yourself. It is about to begin. They were taking their
+partners when I left."
+
+"Then that's MY reel," Willits insisted. "You heard what Miss Kate said,
+Harry--that's what I told you too, Mr. Temple," and he turned to St.
+George for confirmation.
+
+"Oh, but you are mistaken, Langdon," continued Harry, bending over the
+dish. "She said she would decide later on whether to give you the reel
+or a schottische--and she has. Miss Kate dances this reel with me."
+There was a flash in his eye as he spoke, but he was still the host.
+
+"And I suppose you will want the one after supper too," snapped Willits.
+He had edged closer and was now speaking to Harry's bent back.
+
+"Why, certainly, if Miss Kate is willing and wishes it," rejoined Harry
+simply, still too intent on having the ice reach his sweetheart at the
+earliest possible moment to notice either Willits's condition or his
+tone of voice.
+
+Willits sprang forward just as Harry regained his erect position. "No
+you won't, sir!" he cried angrily. "I've got some rights here and I'm
+going to protect them. I'll ask Miss Kate myself and find out whether I
+am to be made a fool of like this," and before St. George could prevent
+started for the door.
+
+Harry dropped the plate on the table and blocked the enraged man's exit
+with his outstretched arm. He was awake now--wide awake--and to the
+cause.
+
+"You'll do nothing of the kind, Langdon--not in your present state. Pull
+yourself together, man! Miss Seymour is not accustomed to be spoken of
+in that way and you know it. Now don't be foolish--stay here with Uncle
+George and the doctor until you cool down. There are the best of reasons
+why I should dance the reel with Miss Kate, but I can't explain them
+now."
+
+"Neither am I, Mr. Harry Rutter, accustomed to be spoken to in that way
+by you or anybody else. I don't care a rap for your explanations. Get
+out of my way, or you'll be sorry," and he sprang one side and flung
+himself out of the room before Harry could realize the full meaning of
+his words.
+
+St. George saw the flash in the boy's eyes, and stretching out his hand
+laid it on Harry's arm.
+
+"Steady, my boy! Let him go--Kate will take care of him."
+
+"No! I'll take care of him!--and now!" He was out of the room and the
+door shut behind him before Temple could frame a reply.
+
+St. George shot an anxious, inquiring look at Teackle, who nodded his
+head in assent, and the two hurried from the room and across the expanse
+of white crash, Willits striding ahead, Harry at his heels, St. George
+and the doctor following close behind.
+
+Kate stood near the far door, her radiant eyes fixed on Harry's
+approaching figure--the others she did not see. Willits reached her
+first:
+
+"Miss Kate, isn't this my dance?" he burst out--"didn't you promise
+me?"
+
+Kate started and for a moment her face flushed. If she had forgotten any
+promise she had made it certainly was not intentional. Then her mind
+acted. There must be no bad blood here--certainly not between Harry and
+Willits.
+
+"No, not quite that, Mr. Willits," she answered in her sweetest voice, a
+certain roguish coquetry in its tones. "I said I'd think it over, and
+you never came near me, and so Harry and I are--"
+
+"But you DID promise me." His voice could be heard all over the
+room--even the colonel, who was talking to a group of ladies, raised his
+head to listen, his companions thinking the commotion was due to the
+proper arranging of the dance.
+
+Harry's eyes flashed; angry blood was mounting to his cheeks. He was
+amazed at Willits's outburst.
+
+"You mean to contradict Miss Kate! Are you crazy, Willits?"
+
+"No, I am entirely sane," he retorted, an ugly ring in his voice.
+
+Everybody had ceased talking now. Good-natured disputes over the young
+girls were not uncommon among the young men, but this one seemed to have
+an ominous sound. Colonel Rutter evidently thought so, for he had now
+risen from his seat and was crossing the room to where Harry and the
+group stood.
+
+"Well, you neither act nor talk as if you were sane, rejoined Harry in
+cold, incisive tones, inching his way nearer Kate, as if to be the
+better prepared to defend her.
+
+Willits's lip curled. "I am not beholden to you, sir, for my conduct,
+although I can be later on for my words. Let me see your dancing-card,
+Miss Kate," and he caught it from her unresisting hand. "There--what
+did I tell you!" This came with a flare of indignation. "It was a blank
+when I saw it last and you've filled it in, sir, of your own accord!"
+Here he faced Harry. "That's your handwriting--I'll leave it to you, Mr.
+Temple, if it isn't his handwriting."
+
+Harry flushed scarlet and his eyes blazed as he stepped toward the
+speaker. Kate shrank back in alarm--she had read Harry's face and knew
+what was behind it.
+
+"Take that back, Langdon--quick! You are my guest, but you mustn't say
+things like that here. I put my name on the card because Miss Kate asked
+me to. Take it back, sir--NOW!--and then make an humble apology to Miss
+Seymour.
+
+"I'll take back nothing! I've been cheated out of a dance. Here--take
+her--and take this with her!" and he tore Kate's card in half and threw
+the pieces in his host's face.
+
+With the spring of a cat, Harry lunged forward and raised his arm as if
+to strike Willits in the face: Willits drew himself up to his full
+height and confronted him: Kate shrivelled within herself, all the color
+gone from her cheeks. Whether to call out for help or withdraw quietly,
+was what puzzled her. Both would concentrate the attention of the whole
+room on the dispute.
+
+St. George, who was boiling with indignation and disgust, but still cool
+and himself, pushed his way into the middle of the group.
+
+"Not a word, Harry," he whispered in low, frigid tones. "This can be
+settled in another way." Then in his kindest voice, so loud that all
+could hear--"Teackle, will you and Mr. Willits please meet me in the
+colonel's den--that, perhaps, is the best place after all to straighten
+out these tangles. I'll join you there as soon as I have Miss Kate
+safely settled." He bent over her: "Kate, dear, perhaps you had better
+sit alongside of Mrs. Rutter until I can get these young fellows cooled
+off"--and in a still lower key--"you behaved admirably, my
+girl--admirably. I'm proud of you. Mr. Willits has had too much to
+drink--that is what is the matter with him, but it will be all over in a
+minute--and, Harry, my boy, suppose you help me look up Teackle," and he
+laid his hand with an authoritative pressure on the boy's arm.
+
+The colonel had by this time reached the group and stood trying to catch
+the cue. He had heard the closing sentence of St. George's instructions,
+but he had missed the provocation, although he had seen Harry's uplifted
+fist.
+
+"What's the matter, St. George?" he inquired nervously.
+
+"Just a little misunderstanding, Talbot, as to who was to dance with our
+precious Kate," St. George answered with a laugh, as he gripped Harry's
+arm the tighter. "She is such a darling that it is as much as I can do
+to keep these young Romeos from running each other through the body,
+they are so madly in love with her. I am thinking of making off with her
+myself as the only way to keep the peace. Yes, you dear girl, I'll come
+back. Hold the music up for a little while, Talbot, until I can
+straighten them all out," and with his arm still tight through Harry's,
+the two walked the length of the room and closed the far door behind
+them.
+
+Kate looked after them and her heart sank all the lower. She knew the
+feeling between the two men, and she knew Harry's hot, ungovernable
+temper--the temper of the Rutters. Patient as he often was, and
+tender-hearted as he could be, there flashed into his eyes now and then
+something that frightened her--something that recalled an incident in
+the history of his house. He had learned from his gentle mother to
+forgive affronts to himself; she had seen him do it many times,
+overlooking what another man would have resented, but an affront to
+herself or any other woman was a different matter: that he would never
+forgive. She knew, too, that he had just cause to be offended, for in
+all her life no one had ever been so rude to her. That she herself was
+partly to blame only intensified her anxiety. Willits loved her, for he
+had told her so, not once, but several times, although she had answered
+him only with laughter. She should have been honest and not played the
+coquette: and yet, although the fault was partly her own, never had she
+been more astonished than at his outburst. In all her acquaintance with
+him he had never lost his temper. Harry, of course, would lay it to
+Willits's lack of breeding--to the taint in his blood. But she knew
+better--it was the insanity produced by drink, combined with his
+jealousy of Harry, which had caused the gross outrage. If she had only
+told Willits herself of her betrothal and not waited to surprise him
+before the assembled guests, it would have been fairer and spared every
+one this scene.
+
+All these thoughts coursed through her mind as with head still proudly
+erect she crossed the room on the colonel's arm, to a seat beside her
+future mother-in-law, who had noticed nothing, and to whom not a
+syllable of the affair would have been mentioned, all such matters being
+invariably concealed from the dear lady.
+
+Old Mrs. Cheston, however, was more alert; not only had she caught the
+anger in Harry's eyes, but she had followed the flight of the torn card
+as its pieces fell to the floor. She had once been present at a
+reception given by a prime minister when a similar fracas had occurred.
+Then it was a lady's glove and not a dancing-card which was thrown in a
+rival's face, and it was a rapier that flashed and not a clenched fist.
+
+"What was the matter over there, Talbot?" she demanded, speaking from
+behind her fan when the colonel came within hearing.
+
+"Nothing! Some little disagreement about who should lead the Virginia
+reel with Kate. I have stopped the music until they fix it up."
+
+"Don't talk nonsense, Talbot Rutter, not to me. There was bad blood over
+there--you better look after them. There'll be trouble if you don't."
+
+The colonel tucked the edge of a rebellious ruffle inside his
+embroidered waistcoat and with a quiet laugh said: "St. George is
+attending to them."
+
+"St. George is as big a fool as you are about such things. Go, I tell
+you, and see what they are doing in there with the door shut."
+
+"But, my dear Mrs. Cheston," echoed her host with a deprecating wave of
+his hand--"my Harry would no more attack a man under his own roof than
+you would cut off your right hand. He's not born that way--none of us
+are."
+
+"You talk like a perfect idiot, Talbot!" she retorted angrily. "You seem
+to have forgotten everything you knew. These young fellows here are so
+many tinder boxes. There will be trouble I tell you--go out there and
+find out what is going on," she reiterated, her voice increasing in
+intensity. "They've had time enough to fix up a dozen Virginia
+reels--and besides, Kate is waiting, and they know it. Look! there's
+some one coming out--it's that young Teackle. Call him over here and
+find out!"
+
+The doctor, who had halted at the door, was now scrutinizing the faces
+of the guests as if in search of some one. Then he moved swiftly to the
+far side of the room, touched Mark Gilbert, Harry's most intimate
+friend, on the shoulder, and the two left the floor.
+
+Kate sat silent, a fixed smile on her face that ill concealed her
+anxiety. She had heard every word of the talk between Mrs. Cheston and
+the colonel, but she did not share the old lady's alarm as to any actual
+conflict. She would trust Uncle George to avoid that. But what kept
+Harry? Why leave her thus abruptly and send no word back? In her dilemma
+she leaned forward and touched the colonel's arm.
+
+"You don't think anything is the matter, dear colonel, do you?"
+
+"With whom, Kate?"
+
+"Between Harry and Mr. Willits. Harry might resent it--he was very
+angry." Her lips were quivering, her eyes strained. She could hide her
+anxiety from her immediate companions, but the colonel was Harry's
+father.
+
+The colonel turned quickly: "Resent it here! under his own roof, and the
+man his guest? That is one thing, my dear, a Rutter never violates, no
+matter what the provocation. I have made a special exception in Mr.
+Willits's favor to-night and Harry knows it. It was at your dear
+father's request that I invited the young fellow. And then again, I hear
+the most delightful things about his own father, who though a plain man
+is of great service to his county--one of Mr. Clay's warmest adherents.
+All this, you see, makes it all the more incumbent that both my son and
+myself should treat him with the utmost consideration, and, as I have
+said, Harry understands this perfectly. You don't know my boy; I would
+disown him, Kate, if he laid a hand on Mr. Willits--and so should you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+
+When Dr. Teackle shut the door of the ballroom upon himself and Mark
+Gilbert the two did not tarry long in the colonel's den, which was still
+occupied by half a dozen of the older men, who were being beguiled by a
+relay of hot terrapin that Alec had just served. On the contrary, they
+continued on past the serving tables, past old Cobden Dorsey, who was
+steeped to the eyes in Santa Cruz rum punch; past John Purviance, and
+Gatchell and Murdoch, smacking their lips over the colonel's Madeira,
+dived through a door leading first to a dark passage, mounted to a short
+flight of steps leading to another dark passage, and so on through a
+second door until they reached a small room level with the ground. This
+was the colonel's business office, where he conducted the affairs of the
+estate--a room remote from the great house and never entered except on
+the colonel's special invitation and only then when business of
+importance necessitated its use.
+
+That business of the very highest importance--not in any way connected
+with the colonel, though of the very gravest moment--was being enacted
+here to-night, could be seen the instant Teackle, with Gilbert at his
+heels, threw open the door. St. George and Harry were in one
+corner--Harry backed against the wall. The boy was pale, but perfectly
+calm and silent. On his face was the look of a man who had a duty to
+perform and who intended to go through with it come what might. On the
+opposite side of the room stood Willits with two young men, his most
+intimate friends. They had followed him out of the ballroom to learn the
+cause of his sudden outburst, and so far had only heard Willits's side
+of the affair. He was now perfectly sober and seemed to feel his
+position, but he showed no fear. On the desk lay a mahogany case
+containing the colonel's duelling pistols. Harry had taken them from his
+father's closet as he passed through the colonel's den.
+
+St. George turned to the young doctor. His face was calm and thoughtful,
+and he seemed to realize fully the gravity of the situation.
+
+"It's no use, Teackle," St. George said with an expressive lift of his
+fingers. "I have done everything a man could, but there is only one way
+out of it. I have tried my best to save Kate from every unhappiness
+to-night, but this is something much more important than woman's tears,
+and that is her lover's honor."
+
+"You mean to tell me, Uncle George, that you can't stop this!" Teackle
+whispered with some heat, his eyes strained, his lips twitching. Here he
+faced Harry. "You sha'n't go on with this affair, I tell you, Harry.
+What will Kate say? Do you think she wants you murdered for a foolish
+thing like this!--and that's about what will happen."
+
+The boy made no reply, except to shake his head. He knew what Kate would
+say--knew what she would do, and knew what she would command him to do,
+could she have heard Willits's continued insults in this very room but a
+moment before while St. George was trying to make him apologize to his
+host and so end the disgraceful incident.
+
+"Then I'll go and bring in the colonel and see what he can do!" burst
+out Teackle, starting for the door. "It's an outrage that--"
+
+"You'll stay here, Teackle," commanded St. George--"right where you
+stand! This is no place for a father. Harry is of age."
+
+"But what an ending to a night like this!"
+
+"I know it--horrible!--frightful!--but I would rather see the boy lying
+dead at my feet than not defend the woman he loves." This came in a
+decisive tone, as if he had long since made up his mind to this phase of
+the situation.
+
+"But Langdon is Harry's guest," Teackle pleaded, dropping his voice
+still lower to escape being heard by the group at the opposite end of
+the room--"and he is still under his roof. It is never done--it is
+against the code. Besides"--and his voice became a whisper--"Harry never
+levelled a pistol at a man in his life, and this is not Langdon's first
+meeting. We can fix it in the morning. I tell you we must fix it."
+
+Harry, who had been listening quietly, reached across the table, picked
+up the case of pistols, handed it to Gilbert, whom he had chosen as his
+second, and in a calm, clear, staccato tone--each word a bullet rammed
+home--said:
+
+"No--Teackle, there will be no delay until to-morrow. Mr. Willits has
+forfeited every claim to being my guest and I will fight him here and
+now. I could never look Kate in the face, nor would she ever speak to me
+again, if I took any other course. You forget that he virtually told
+Kate she lied," and he gazed steadily at Willits as if waiting for the
+effect of his shot.
+
+St. George's eyes kindled. There was the ring of a man in the boy's
+words. He had seen the same look on the elder Rutter's face in a similar
+situation twenty years before. As a last resort he walked toward where
+Willits stood conferring with his second.
+
+"I ask you once more, Mr. Willits"--he spoke in his most courteous tones
+(Willits's pluck had greatly raised him in his estimation)--"to
+apologize like a man and a gentleman. There is no question in my mind
+that you have insulted your host in his own house and been discourteous
+to the woman he expects to marry, and that the amende honorable should
+come from you. I am twice your age and have had many experiences of this
+kind, and I would neither ask you to do a dishonorable thing nor would I
+permit you to do it if I could prevent it. Make a square, manly apology
+to Harry."
+
+Willits gazed at him with a certain ill-concealed contempt on his face.
+He was at the time loosening the white silk scarf about his throat in
+preparation for the expected encounter. He evidently did not believe a
+word of that part of the statement which referred to Harry's engagement.
+If Kate had been engaged to Harry she would have told him so.
+
+"You are only wasting your time, Mr. Temple," he answered with an
+impatient lift of his chin as he stripped his coat from his broad
+shoulders. "You have just said there is only one way to settle this--I
+am ready--so are my friends. You will please meet me outside--there is
+plenty of firelight under the trees, and the sooner we get through this
+the better. The apology should not come from me, and will not. Come,
+gentlemen," and he stepped out into the now drizzling night, the glare
+of the torches falling on his determined face and white shirt as he
+strode down the path followed by his seconds.
+
+Seven gentlemen hurriedly gathered together, one a doctor and another in
+full possession of a mahogany case containing two duelling pistols with
+their accompanying ammunition, G. D. gun caps, powder-horn, swabs and
+rammers, and it past eleven o'clock at night, would have excited but
+little interest to the average darky--especially one unaccustomed to the
+portents and outcomes of such proceedings.
+
+Not so Alec, who had absorbed the situation at a glance. He had
+accompanied his master on two such occasions--one at Bladensburg and the
+other on a neighboring estate, when the same suggestive tokens had been
+visible, except that those fights took place at daybreak, and after
+every requirement of the code had been complied with, instead of under
+the flare of smoking pine torches and within a step of the contestant's
+front door. He had, besides, a most intimate knowledge of the contents
+of the mahogany case, it being part of his duty to see that these
+defenders of the honor of all the Rutters--and they had been in frequent
+use--were kept constantly oiled and cleaned. He had even cast some
+bullets the month before under the colonel's direction. That he was
+present to-night was entirely due to the fact that having made a short
+cut to the kitchen door in order to hurry some dishes, he had by the
+merest chance, and at the precise psychological moment, run bump up
+against the warlike party just before they had reached the duelling
+ground. This was a well-lighted path but a stone's throw from the porch,
+and sufficiently hidden by shrubbery to be out of sight of the ballroom
+windows.
+
+The next moment the old man was in full cry to the house. He had heard
+the beginning of the trouble while he was carrying out St. George's
+orders regarding the two half-emptied bowls of punch and understood
+exactly what was going to happen, and why.
+
+"Got de colonel's pistols!" he choked as he sped along the gravel walk
+toward the front door the quicker to reach the ballroom--"and Marse
+Harry nothin' but a baby! Gor-a-Mighty! Gor-a-Mighty!" Had they all been
+grown-ups he might not have minded--but his "Marse Harry," the child he
+brought up, his idol--his chum!--"Fo' Gawd, dey sha'n't kill 'im--dey
+sha'n't!--DEY SHA'N'T!!"
+
+He had reached the porch now, swung back the door, and with a sudden
+spring--it was wonderful how quick he moved--had dashed into the
+ballroom, now a maze of whirling figures--a polka having struck up to
+keep everybody occupied until the reel was finally made up.
+
+"Marse Talbot!--Marse Talbot!" All domestic training was cast aside, not
+a moment could be lost--"All on ye!--dey's murder outside--somebody go
+git de colonel!--Oh, Gawd!--somebody git 'im quick!"
+
+Few heard him and nobody paid any attention to his entreaties; nor could
+anybody, when they did listen, understand what he wanted--the men
+swearing under their breath, the girls indignant that he had blocked
+their way. Mrs. Rutter, who had seen his in-rush, sat aghast. Had Alec,
+too, given way, she wondered--old Alec who had had full charge of the
+wine cellar for years! But the old man pressed on, still shouting, his
+voice almost gone, his eyes bursting from his head.
+
+"Dey's gwineter murder Marse Harry--I seen 'em! Oh!--whar's de colonel!
+Won't somebody please--Oh, my Gawd!--dis is awful! Don't I tell ye
+dey's gwineter kill Marse Harry!"
+
+Mrs. Cheston, sitting beside Kate, was the only one who seemed to
+understand.
+
+"Alec!" she called in her imperious voice--"Alec!--come to me at once!
+What is the matter?"
+
+The old butler shambled forward and stood trembling, the tears streaming
+down his cheeks.
+
+"Yes, mum--I'm yere! Oh, can't ye git de colonel--ain't nobody else'll
+do--"
+
+"Is it a duel?"
+
+"Yes, mum! I jes' done see 'em! Dey's gwineter kill my Marse Harry!"
+
+Kate sprang up. "Where are they?" she cried, shivering with fear. The
+old man's face had told the story.
+
+"Out by de greenhouse--dey was measurin' off de groun'--dey's got de
+colonel's pistols--you kin see 'em from de winder!"
+
+In an instant she had parted the heavy silk curtains and lifted the
+sash. She would have thrown herself from it if Mrs. Cheston had not held
+her, although it was but a few feet from the ground.
+
+"Harry!" she shrieked--an agonizing shriek that reverberated through the
+ballroom, bringing everybody and everything to a stand-still. The
+dancers looked at each other in astonishment. What had happened? Who had
+fainted?
+
+The colonel now passed through the room. He had been looking after the
+proper handling of the famous Madeira, and had just heard that Alec
+wanted him, and was uncertain as to the cause of the disturbance. A
+woman's scream had reached his ears, but he did not know it was Kate's
+or he would have quickened his steps.
+
+Again Kate's voice pierced the room:
+
+"Harry! HARRY!"--this time in helpless agony. She had peered into the
+darkness made denser by the light rain, and had caught a glimpse of a
+man standing erect without his coat, the light of the torches bringing
+his figure into high relief--whose she could not tell, the bushes were
+so thick.
+
+The colonel brushed everybody aside and pulled Kate, half fainting, into
+the room. Then he faced Mrs. Cheston.
+
+"What has happened?" he asked sharply. "What is going on outside?"
+
+"Just what I told you. Those fools are out there trying to murder each
+other!"
+
+Two shots in rapid succession rang clear on the night air.
+
+The colonel stood perfectly still. No need to tell him now what had
+happened, and worse yet, no need to tell him what WOULD happen if he
+showed the slightest agitation. He was a cool man, accustomed to
+critical situations, and one who never lost his head in an emergency.
+Only a few years before he had stopped a runaway hunter, with a girl
+clinging to a stirrup, by springing straight at the horse's head and
+bringing them both to the ground unhurt. It only required the same
+instantaneous concentration of all his forces, he said to himself, as he
+gazed into old Alec's terror-stricken face framed by the open window.
+Once let the truth be known and the house would be in a panic--women
+fainting, men rushing out, taking sides with the combatants, with
+perhaps other duels to follow--Mrs. Rutter frantic, the ball suddenly
+broken up, and this, too, near midnight, with most of his guests ten
+miles and more from home.
+
+Murmurs of alarm were already reaching his ears: What was it?--who had
+fainted?--did the scream come from inside or outside the room?--what was
+the firing about?
+
+He turned to allay Kate's anxiety, but she had cleared the open window
+at a bound and was already speeding toward where she had seen the light
+on the man's shirt. For an instant he peered after her into the
+darkness, and then, his mind made up, closed the sash with a quick
+movement, flung together the silk curtains and raised his hand to
+command attention.
+
+"Keep on with the dance, my friends; I'll go and find out what has
+happened--but it's nothing that need worry anybody--only a little burnt
+powder. Alec, go and tell Mr. Grant, the overseer, to keep better order
+outside. In the meantime let everybody get ready for the Virginia reel;
+supper will be served in a few minutes. Will you young gentlemen please
+choose your partners, and will some one of you kindly ask the music to
+start up?"
+
+Slowly, and quite as if he had been called to the front door to welcome
+some belated guest, he walked the length of the room preceded by Alec,
+who, agonized at his master's measured delay, had forged ahead to open
+the door. This closed and they out of sight, the two hurried down the
+path.
+
+Willits lay flat on the ground, one arm stretched above his head. He had
+measured his full length, the weight of his shoulder breaking some
+flower-pots as he fell. Over his right eye gaped an ugly wound from
+which oozed a stream of blood that stained his cheek and throat. Dr.
+Teackle, on one knee, was searching the patient's heart, while Kate, her
+pretty frock soiled with mud, her hair dishevelled, sat crouched in the
+dirt rubbing his hands--sobbing bitterly--crying out whenever Harry, who
+was kneeling beside her, tried to soothe her:--"No!--No!--My heart's
+broken--don't speak to me--go away!"
+
+The colonel, towering above them, looked the scene over, then he
+confronted Harry, who had straightened to his feet on seeing his father.
+
+"A pretty piece of work--and on a night like this! A damnable piece of
+work, I should say, sir! ... Has he killed him, Teackle?"
+
+The young doctor shook his head ominously.
+
+"I cannot tell yet--his heart is still beating."
+
+St. George now joined the group. He and Gilbert and the other seconds
+had, in order to maintain secrecy, been rounding up the few negroes who
+had seen the encounter, or who had been attracted to the spot by the
+firing.
+
+"Harry had my full consent, Talbot--there was really nothing else to do.
+Only an ounce of cold lead will do in some cases, and this was one of
+them." He was grave and deliberate in manner, but there was an infinite
+sadness in his voice.
+
+"He did--did he?" retorted the colonel bitterly. "YOUR full consent!
+YOURS! and I in the next room!" Here he beckoned to one of the negroes
+who, with staring eyeballs, stood gazing from one to the other. "Come
+closer, Eph--not a whisper, remember, or I'll cut the hide off your back
+in strips. Tell the others what I say--if a word of this gets into the
+big house or around the cabins I'll know who to punish. Now two or three
+of you go into the greenhouse, pick up one of those wide planks, and
+lift this gentleman onto it so we can carry him. Take him into my
+office, doctor, and lay him on my lounge. He'd better die there than
+here. Come, Kate--do you go with me. Not a syllable of this, remember,
+Kate, to Mrs. Rutter, or anybody else. As for you, sir"--and he looked
+Harry squarely in the face--"you will hear from me later on."
+
+With the same calm determination, he entered the ballroom, walked to the
+group forming the reel, and, with a set smile on this face indicating
+how idle had been everybody's fears, said loud enough to be heard by
+every one about him:
+
+"Only one of the men, my dear young people, who has been hurt in the too
+careless use of some firearms. As to dear Kate--she has been so
+upset--she happened unfortunately to see the affair from the
+window--that she has gone to her room and so you must excuse her for a
+little while. Now everybody keep on with the dance."
+
+With his wife he was even more at ease. "The same old root of all evil,
+my dear," he said with a dry laugh--"too much peach brandy, and this
+time down the wrong throats--and so in their joy they must celebrate by
+firing off pistols and wasting my good ammunition," an explanation which
+completely satisfied the dear lady--peach brandy being capable of
+producing any calamity, great or small.
+
+But this would not do for Mrs. Cheston. She was a woman who could be
+trusted and who never, on any occasion, lost her nerve. He saw from the
+way she lifted her eyebrows in inquiry, instead of framing her question
+in words, that she fully realized the gravity of the situation. The
+colonel looked at her significantly, made excuse to step in front of
+her, his back to the room, and with his forefinger tapping his forehead,
+whispered:
+
+"Willits."
+
+The old lady paled, but she did not change her expression.
+
+"And Harry?" she murmured in return.
+
+The colonel kept his eyes upon her, but he made no answer. A hard, cold
+look settled on his face--one she knew--one his negroes feared when he
+grew angry.
+
+Again she repeated Harry's name, this time in alarm:
+
+"Quick!--tell me--not killed?"
+
+"No--I wish to God he were!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+
+The wounded man lay on a lounge in the office room, which was dimly
+lighted by the dying glow of the outside torches and an oil lamp
+hurriedly brought in. No one was present except St. George, Harry, the
+doctor, and a negro woman who had brought in some pillows and hot water.
+All that could be done for him had been done; he was unconscious and his
+life hung by a thread. Harry, now that the mysterious thing called his
+"honor" had been satisfied, was helping Teackle wash the wound prior to
+an attempt to probe for the ball.
+
+The boy was crying quietly--the tears streaming unbidden down his
+cheeks--it was his first experience at this sort of thing. He had been
+brought up to know that some day it might come and that he must then
+face it, but he had never before realized the horror of what might
+follow. And yet he had not reached the stage of regret; he was sorry for
+the wounded man and for his suffering, but he was not sorry for his own
+share in causing it. He had only done his duty, and but for a stroke of
+good luck he and Willits might have exchanged places. Uncle George had
+expressed his feelings exactly when he said that only a bit of cold lead
+could settle some insults, and what insult could have been greater than
+the one for which he had shot Willits? What was a gentleman to do? Go
+around meeting his antagonist every day?--the two ignoring each other?
+Or was he to turn stable boy, and pound him with his fists?--or, more
+ridiculous still, have him bound over to keep the peace, or bring an
+action for--Bah!--for what?--Yes--for what? Willits hadn't struck him,
+or wounded him, or robbed him. It had been his life or Willits's.
+No--there was no other way--couldn't be any other way. Willits knew it
+when he tore up Kate's card--knew what would follow. There was no
+deception--nothing underhand. And he had got precisely what he deserved,
+sorry as he felt for his sufferings.
+
+Then Kate's face rose before him--haunted him. Why hadn't she seen it
+this way? Why had she refused to look at him--refused to answer
+him--driven him away from her side, in fact?--he who had risked his life
+to save her from insult! Why wouldn't she allow him to even touch her
+hand? Why did she treat Willits--drunken vulgarian as he
+was--differently from the way she had treated him? She had broken off
+her engagement with him because he was drunk at Mrs. Cheston's ball,
+where nobody had been hurt but himself, and here she was sympathizing
+with another drunken man who had not only outraged all sense of decency
+toward her, but had jeopardized the life of her affianced husband who
+defended her against his insults; none of which would have happened had
+the man been sober. All this staggered him.
+
+More astounding still was her indifference. She had not even asked if he
+had escaped unhurt, but had concentrated all her interest upon the man
+who had insulted her. As to his own father's wrath--that he had
+expected. It was his way to break out, and this he knew would continue
+until he realized the enormity of the insult to Kate and heard how he
+and St. George had tried to ward off the catastrophe. Then he would not
+only change his opinion, but would commend him for his courage.
+
+Outside the sick-room such guests as could be trusted were gathered
+together in the colonel's den, where they talked in whispers. All agreed
+that the ladies and the older men must be sent home as soon as possible,
+and in complete ignorance of what had occurred. If Willits lived--of
+which there was little hope--his home would be at the colonel's until he
+fully recovered, the colonel having declared that neither expense nor
+care would be spared to hasten his recovery. If he died, the body would
+be sent to his father's house later on.
+
+With this object in view the dance was adroitly shortened, the supper
+hurried through, and within an hour after midnight the last carriage and
+carryall of those kept in ignorance of the duel had departed, the only
+change in the programme being the non-opening of the rare old bottle of
+Madeira and the announcement of Harry's and Kate's engagement--an
+omission which provoked little comment, as it had been known to but few.
+
+Kate remained. She had tottered upstairs holding on to the hand-rail and
+had thrown herself on a bed in the room leading out of the
+dressing-room, where she lay in her mud-stained dress, the silken
+petticoat torn and bedraggled in her leap from the window. She was
+weeping bitterly, her old black mammy sitting beside her trying to
+comfort her as best she could.
+
+With the departure of the last guest--Mr. Seymour among them; the
+colonel doing the honors; standing bare-headed on the porch, his face
+all smiles as he bade them good-by--the head of the house of Rutter
+turned quickly on his heel, passed down the corridor, made his way along
+the long narrow hall, and entered his office, where the wounded man lay.
+Harry, the negro woman, and Dr. Teackle alone were with him.
+
+"Is there any change?" he asked in a perfectly even voice. Every vestige
+of the set smile of the host had left his face. Harry he did not even
+notice.
+
+"Not much--he is still alive," replied the doctor.
+
+"Have you found the ball?"
+
+"No--I have not looked for it--I will presently."
+
+The colonel moved out a chair and sat down beside the dying man, his
+eyes fixed on the lifeless face. Some wave of feeling must have swept
+through him, for after a half-stifled sigh, he said in a low voice, as
+if to himself:
+
+"This will be a fine story to tell his father, won't it?--and here
+too--under my roof. My God!--was there ever anything more disgraceful!"
+He paused for a moment, his eyes still on the sufferer, and then went
+on--this time to the doctor--"His living so long gives me some hope--am
+I right, Teackle?"
+
+The doctor nodded, but he made no audible reply. He had bent closer to
+the man's chest and was at the moment listening intently to the labored
+breathing, which seemed to have increased.
+
+Harry edged nearer to the patient, his eyes seeking for some move of
+life. All his anger had faded. Willits, his face ablaze with drink and
+rage, his eyes flashing, his strident voice ringing out--even Kate's
+shocked, dazed face, no longer filled his mind. It was the suffering
+man--trembling on the verge of eternity, shot to death by his own
+ball--that appealed to him. And then the suddenness of it all--less than
+an hour had passed since this tall, robust young fellow stood before him
+on the stairs, hanging upon every word that fell from Kate's lips--and
+here he lay weltering in his own blood.
+
+Suddenly his father's hopeful word to the doctor sounded in his ears.
+Suppose, after all, Willits SHOULD get well! Then Kate would understand
+and forgive him! As this thought developed in his mind his spirits rose.
+He scanned the sufferer the more intently, straining his neck,
+persuading himself that a slight twitching had crossed the dying man's
+face. Almost instantaneously the doctor rose to his feet.
+
+"Quick, Harry!--hand me that brandy! It's just as I hoped--the ball has
+ploughed outside the skull--the brain is untouched. It was the shock
+that stunned him. Leave the room everybody--you too, colonel--he'll come
+to in a minute and must not be excited."
+
+Harry sprang from his chair, a great surge of thankfulness rising in his
+heart, caught up the decanter, filled a glass and pressed it to the
+sufferer's lips. The colonel sat silent and unmoved. He had seen too
+many wounded men revive and then die to be unduly excited. That Willets
+still breathed was the only feature of his case that gave him any hope.
+
+Harry shot an inquiring glance at his father, and receiving only a cold
+stare in return, hurried from the room, his steps growing lighter as he
+ran. Kate must hear the good news and with the least possible delay. He
+would not send a message--he would go himself; then he could explain and
+relieve her mind. She would listen to his pleading. It was natural she
+should have been shocked. He himself had been moved to sympathy by the
+sufferer's condition--how much more dreadful, then, must have been the
+sight of the wounded man lying there among the flower-pots to a woman
+nurtured so carefully and one so sensitive in spirit! But it was all
+over--Willits would live--there would be a reconciliation--everything
+would be forgiven and everything forgotten.
+
+All these thoughts crowded close in his mind as he rushed up the stairs
+two steps at a time to where his sweetheart lay moaning out her heart.
+He tapped lightly and her old black mammy opened the door on a crack.
+
+"It's Marse Harry, mistis," she called back over her shoulder--"shall I
+let him come in?"
+
+"No!--no!--I don't want to see him; I don't want to see anybody--my
+heart is broken!" came the reply in half-stifled sobs.
+
+Harry, held at bay, rested his forehead against the edge of the door so
+his voice could reach her the better.
+
+"But Willits isn't going to die, Kate dear. I have just left him; it's
+only a scalp wound. Dr. Teackle says he's all right. The shock stunned
+him into unconsciousness."
+
+"Oh, I don't care what Dr. Teackle says! It's you, Harry!--You! You
+never once thought of me--Oh, why did you do it?"
+
+"I did think of you, Kate! I never thought of anything else--I am not
+thinking of anything else now."
+
+"Oh, to think you tried to murder him! You, Harry--whom I loved so!" she
+sobbed.
+
+"It was for you, Kate! You heard what he said--you saw it all. It was
+for you--for nobody else--for you, my darling! Let me come in--let me
+hold you close to me and tell you."
+
+"No!--NO--NO! My heart is broken! Come to me, mammy!"
+
+The door shut gently and left him on the outside, dazed at the outcry,
+his heart throbbing with tenderness and an intense, almost ungovernable
+impulse to force his way into the room, take her in his arms, and
+comfort her.
+
+The closed door brought him to his senses. To-morrow, after all, would
+be better, he confessed to himself humbly. Nothing more could be done
+to-night. Yes--to-morrow he would tell her all. He turned to descend
+the stairs and ran almost into Alec's arms. The old man was trembling
+with excitement and seemed hardly able to control himself. He had come
+in search of him, and had waited patiently at Kate's door for the
+outcome of the interview, every word of which he had overheard.
+
+"Marse Talbot done sont me fer ye, Marse Harry," he said in a low voice;
+"he wants ye in his li'l' room. Don't ye take no notice what de young
+mistis says; she ain't griebin' fer dat man. Dat Willits blood ain't no
+'count, nohow; dey's po' white trash, dey is--eve'ybody knows dat. Let
+Miss Kate cry herse'f out; dat's de on'y help now. Mammy Henny'll look
+arter her till de mawnin'"--to none of which did Harry make answer.
+
+When they reached the bottom step leading to the long hall the old man
+stopped and laid his hand on his young master's shoulder. His voice was
+barely audible and two tears stood in his eyes.
+
+"Don't you take no notice ob what happens to-night, son," he whispered.
+"'Member ye kin count on ol' Alec. Ain't neber gwineter be nothin' come
+'twixt me an' you, son. I ain't neber gwineter git tired lovin' ye--you
+won't fergit dat, will ye?"
+
+"No, Alec, but Mr. Willits will recover. Dr. Teackle has just said so."
+
+"Oh, dat ain't it, son--it's you, Marse Harry. Don't let 'em down
+ye--stand up an' fight 'em back."
+
+Harry patted the old servant tenderly on the arm to calm his fears. His
+words had made but little impression on him. If he had heard them at all
+he certainly did not grasp their import. What he was wanted for he could
+not surmise--nor did he much care. Now that Kate had refused to see him
+he almost wished that Willits's bullet had found its target.
+
+"Where did you say my father was, Alec?" he asked in a listless voice.
+
+"In his li'l' room, son; dey's all in dar, Marse George Temple, Mister
+Gilbert--dem two gemmans who stood up wid Mister Willits--dey's all dar.
+Don't mind what dey say, honey--jes' you fall back on ol' Alec. I
+dassent go in; maybe I'll be yere in de pantry so ye kin git hold o' me.
+I'se mos' crazy, Marse Harry--let me git hold oh yo' hand once mo', son.
+Oh, my Gawd!--dey sha'n't do nothin' to ye!"
+
+The boy took the old man's hand in his, patted it gently and resumed his
+walk. The least said the better when Alec felt like this. It was Kate's
+voice that pierced his ears--Kate's sobs that wrenched his heart: "You
+never thought of me!" Nothing else counted.
+
+Harry turned the handle of the door and stepped boldly in, his head
+erect, his eyes searching the room. It was filled with gentlemen, some
+sitting, some standing; not only those who had taken part in the duel,
+but three or four others who were in possession of the secret that lay
+heavy on everybody's mind.
+
+He looked about him: most of the candles had burned low in the socket;
+some had gone out. The few that still flickered cast a dim, ghostly
+light. The remains of the night's revel lay on the larger table and the
+serving tables:--a half empty silver dish of terrapin, caked over with
+cold grease; portion of a ham with the bone showing; empty and partly
+filled glasses and china cups from which the toddies and eggnog had been
+drunk. The smell of rum and lemons intermingled with the smoke of
+snuffed-out candle wicks greeted his nostrils--a smell he remembered for
+years and always with a shudder.
+
+There had evidently been a heated discussion, for his father was walking
+up and down the room, his face flushed, his black eyes blazing with
+suppressed anger, his plum-colored coat unbuttoned as if to give him
+more breathing space, his silk scarf slightly awry. St. George Temple
+must have been the cause of his wrath, for the latter's voice was
+reverberating through the room as Harry stepped in.
+
+"I tell you, Talbot, you shall not--you DARE not!" St. George was
+exclaiming, his voice rising in the intensity of his indignation. His
+face was set, his eyes blazing; all his muscles taut. He stood like an
+avenging knight guarding some pathway. Harry looked on in amazement--he
+had never seen his uncle like this before.
+
+The colonel wheeled about suddenly and raised his clenched hand. He
+seemed to be nervously unstrung and for a moment to have lost his
+self-control.
+
+"Stop, St. George!" he thundered. "Stop instantly! Not another word, do
+you hear me? Don't strain a friendship that has lasted from boyhood or I
+may forget myself as you have done. No man can tell me what I shall or
+shall not do when my honor is at stake. Never before has a Rutter
+disgraced himself and his blood. I am done with him, I tell you!"
+
+"But the man will get well!" hissed St. George, striding forward and
+confronting him. "Teackle has just said so--you heard him; we all heard
+him!"
+
+"That makes no difference; that does not relieve my son."
+
+Rutter had now become aware of Harry's presence. So had the others, who
+turned their heads in the boy's direction, but no one spoke. They had
+not the lifelong friendship that made St. George immune, and few of them
+would have dared to disagree with Talbot Rutter in anything.
+
+"And now, sir"--here the colonel made a step towards where Harry stood,
+the words falling as drops of water fall on a bared head--"I have sent
+for you to tell you just what I have told these gentlemen. I have
+informed them openly because I do not wish either my sense of honor or
+my motives to be misunderstood. Your performances to-night have been so
+dastardly and so ill-bred as to make it impossible for me ever to live
+under the same roof with you again." Harry started and his lips parted
+as if to speak, but he made no sound. "You have disgraced your blood and
+violated every law of hospitality. Mr. Willits should have been as safe
+here as you would have been under his father's roof. If he misbehaved
+himself you could have ordered his carriage and settled the affair next
+day, as any gentleman of your standing would have done. I have sent for
+a conveyance to take you wherever you may wish to go." Then, turning to
+St. George, "I must ask you, Temple, to fill my place and see that these
+gentlemen get their proper carriages, as I must join Mrs. Rutter, who
+has sent for me. Good-night," and he strode from the room.
+
+Harry stared blankly into the faces of the men about him: first at St.
+George and then at the others--one after another--as if trying to read
+what was passing in their minds. No one spoke or moved. His father's
+intentions had evidently been discussed before the boy's arrival and the
+final denunciation had, therefore, been received with less of the
+deadening effect than it had produced on himself. Nor was it a surprise
+to old Alec, who despite his fears had followed Harry noiselessly into
+the room, and who had also overheard the colonel's previous outbreak as
+to his intended disposition of his young master.
+
+St. George, who during the outburst had stood leaning against the
+mantel, his eyes riveted on Harry, broke the silence.
+
+"That, gentlemen," he exclaimed, straightening to his feet, one hand
+held high above his head, "is the most idiotic and unjust utterance that
+ever fell from Talbot Rutter's lips! and one he will regret to his dying
+day. This boy you all know--most of you have known him from childhood,
+and you know him, as I do, to be the embodiment of all that is brave and
+truthful. He is just of age--without knowledge of the world, his
+engagement to Kate Seymour, as some of you are aware, was to be made
+known to-night. Willits was drunk or he would not have acted as he did.
+I saw it coming and tried to stop him. That he was drunk was Rutter's
+own fault, with his damned notions of drowning everybody in drink every
+minute of the day and night. I saw the whole affair and heard the
+insult, and it was wholly unprovoked. Harry did just what was right, and
+if he hadn't I'd either have made Willits apologize or I would have shot
+him myself the moment the affair could have been arranged, no matter
+where we were. I know perfectly well"--here he swept his eyes
+around--"that there is not a man in this room who does not feel as I do
+about Rutter's treatment of this boy, and so I shall not comment further
+upon it." He dropped his clenched hand and turned to Harry, his voice
+still clear and distinct but with a note of tenderness through it. "And
+now, that pronunciamentos are in order, my boy, here is one which has
+less of the Bombastes Furioso in it than the one you have just listened
+to--but it's a damned sight more humane and a damned sight more
+fatherly, and it is this:--hereafter you belong to me--you are my son,
+my comrade, and, if I ever have a dollar to give to any one, my heir.
+And now one thing more, and I don't want any one of you gentlemen within
+sound of my voice ever to forget it: When hereafter any one of you
+reckon with Harry you will please remember that you reckon with me."
+
+He turned suddenly. "Excuse me one moment, gentlemen, and I will then
+see that you get your several carriages. Alec!--where's Alec?"
+
+The old darky stepped out of the shadow. "I'm yere, sah."
+
+"Alec, go and tell Matthew to bring my gig to the front porch--and be
+sure you see that your young master's heavy driving-coat is put inside.
+Mr. Harry spends the night with me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+
+The secrecy enjoined upon everybody conversant with the happenings at
+Moorlands did not last many hours. At the club, across dinner tables, at
+tea, on the street, and in the libraries of Kennedy Square, each detail
+was gone over, each motive discussed. None of the facts were
+exaggerated, nor was the gravity of the situation lightly dismissed.
+Duels were not so common as to blunt the sensibilities. On the contrary,
+they had begun to be generally deplored and condemned, a fact largely
+due to the bitterness resulting from a famous encounter which had taken
+place a year or so before between young Mr. Cocheran, the son of a rich
+landowner, and Mr. May--the circumstances being somewhat similar, the
+misunderstanding having arisen at a ball in Washington over a reigning
+belle, during which Mr. May had thrown his card in Cocheran's face. In
+this instance all the requirements of the code were complied with. The
+duel was fought in an open space behind Nelson's Hotel, near the
+Capitol, Mr. Cocheran arriving at half-past five in the morning in a
+magnificent coach drawn by four white horses, his antagonist reaching
+the grounds in an ordinary conveyance, the seconds and the two surgeons
+on horseback. Both fired simultaneously, with the result that May
+escaped unhurt, while Cocheran was shot through the head and instantly
+killed.
+
+Public opinion, indeed, around Kennedy Square, was, if the truth be
+told, undergoing many and serious changes. For not only the duel but
+some other of the traditional customs dear to the old regime were
+falling into disrepute--especially the open sideboards, synonymous with
+the lavish hospitality of the best houses. While most of the older
+heads, brought up on the finer and rarer wines, knew to a glass the
+limit of their endurance, the younger bloods were constantly losing
+control of themselves, a fact which was causing the greatest anxiety
+among the mothers of Kennedy Square.
+
+This growing antipathy had been hastened and solidified by another
+tragedy quite as widely discussed as the Cocheran and May duel--more so,
+in fact, since this particular victim of too many toddies had been the
+heir of one of the oldest residents about Kennedy Square--a brilliant
+young surgeon, self-exiled because of his habits, who had been thrown
+from his horse on the Indian frontier--an Iowa town, really--shattering
+his leg and making its amputation necessary. There being but one other
+man in the rough camp who had ever seen a knife used--and he but a
+student--the wounded surgeon had directed the amputation himself, even
+to the tying of the arteries and the bandages and splints. Only then did
+he collapse. The hero--and he was a hero to every one who knew of his
+coolness and pluck, in spite of his recognized weakness--had returned
+to his father's house on Kennedy Square on crutches, there to consult
+some specialists, the leg still troubling him. As the cripple's bedroom
+was at the top of the first flight of stairs, the steps of which--it
+being summer--were covered with China matting, he was obliged to drag
+himself up its incline whenever he was in want of something he must
+fetch himself. One of these necessities was a certain squat bottle like
+those which had graced the old sideboards. Half a dozen times a day
+would he adjust his crutches, their steel points preventing his
+slipping, and mount the stairs to his room, one step at a time.
+
+Some months after, when the matting was taken up, the mother took her
+youngest boy--he was then fifteen--to the steps:
+
+"Do you see the dents of your brother's crutches?--count them. Every
+one was a nail in his coffin." They were--for the invalid died that
+winter.
+
+These marked changes in public opinion, imperceptible as they had been
+at first, were gradually paving the way, it may be said, for the dawn of
+that new order of things which only the wiser and more farsighted
+men--men like Richard Horn--were able to discern. While many of the old
+regime were willing to admit that the patriarchal life, with the negro
+as the worker and the master as the spender, had seen its best days, but
+few of them, at the period of these chronicles, realized that the genius
+of Morse, Hoe, and McCormick, and a dozen others, whose inventions were
+just beginning to be criticised, and often condemned, were really the
+chief factors in the making of a new and greater democracy: that the
+cog, the drill, the grate-bar, and the flying shuttle would ere long
+supplant the hoe and the scythe; and that when the full flood of this
+new era was reached their old-time standards of family pride, reckless
+hospitality, and even their old-fashioned courtesy would well-nigh be
+swept into space. The storm raised over this and the preceding duel had
+they but known it, was but a notch in the tide-gauge of this flood.
+
+"I understand, St. George, that you could have stopped that disgraceful
+affair the other night if you had raised your hand," Judge Pancoast had
+blurted out in an angry tone at the club the week following. "I did
+raise it, judge," replied St. George, calmly drawing off his gloves.
+
+"They don't say so--they say you stood by and encouraged it."
+
+"Quite true," he answered in his dryest voice. "When I raised my hand it
+was to drop my handkerchief. They fired as it fell."
+
+"And a barbarous and altogether foolish piece of business, Temple. There
+is no justification for that sort of thing, and if Rutter wasn't a
+feudal king up in his own county there would be trouble over it. It's
+God's mercy the poor fellow wasn't killed. Fine beginning, isn't it, for
+a happy married life?"
+
+"Better not have any wife at all, judge, than wed a woman whose good
+name you are afraid to defend with your life. There are some of us who
+can stand anything but that, and Harry is built along the same lines. A
+fine, noble, young fellow--did just right and has my entire confidence
+and my love. Think it over, judge," and he strolled into the card-room,
+picked up the morning paper, and buried his face in its columns, his
+teeth set, his face aflame with suppressed disgust at the kind of blood
+running in the judge's veins.
+
+The colonel's treatment of his son also came in for heated discussion.
+Mrs. Cheston was particularly outspoken. Such quixotic action on the
+ground of safeguarding the rights of a young drunkard like Willits, who
+didn't know when he had had enough, might very well do for a
+self-appointed autocrat like Rutter, she maintained, but some equally
+respectable people would have him know that they disagreed with him.
+
+"Just like Talbot Rutter," she exclaimed in her outspoken, decided
+way--" no sense of proportion. High-tempered, obstinate as a mule, and
+a hundred years--yes, five hundred years behind his time. And he--
+could have stopped it all too if he had listened to me. Did you ever
+hear anything so stupid as his turning Harry--the sweetest boy who ever
+lived--out of doors, and in a pouring rain, for doing what he would have
+done himself! Oh, this is too ridiculous--too farcical. Why, you can't
+conceive of the absurdity of it all--nobody can! Gilbert was there and
+told me every word of it. You would have thought he was a grand duke or
+a pasha punishing a slave--and the funniest thing about it is that he
+believes he is a pasha. Oh--I have no patience with such contemptible
+family pride, and that's what is at the bottom of it."
+
+Some of the back county aristocrats, on the other hand--men who lived by
+themselves, who took their cue from Alexander Hamilton, Lee, and Webb,
+and believed in the code as the only means of arbitrating a difficulty
+of any kind between gentlemen--stoutly defended the Lord of Moorlands.
+
+"Rutter did perfectly right to chuck the young whelp out of doors.
+Outrageous, sir--never is done--nothing less than murder. Ought to be
+prosecuted for challenging a man under his own roof--and at night too.
+No toss-up for position, no seconds except a parcel of boys. Vulgar,
+sir--infernally vulgar, sir. I haven't the honor of Colonel Rutter's
+acquaintance--but if I had I'd tell him so--served the brat right--
+damn him!"
+
+Richard Horn was equally emphatic, but in a far different way. Indeed he
+could hardly restrain himself when discussing it.
+
+"I can think of nothing my young boy Oliver would or could do when he
+grows up," he exclaimed fiercely--his eyes flashing, "which would shut
+him out of his home and his dear mother's care. The duel is a relic of
+barbarism and should be no longer tolerated; it is mob law, really, and
+indefensible, with two persons defying the statutes instead of a
+thousand. But Rutter is the last man in the world to take the stand he
+has, and I sincerely regret his action. There are many bitter days ahead
+of him."
+
+Nor were the present conditions, aspirations, and future welfare of the
+two combatants, and of the lovely girl over whom they had quarrelled,
+neglected by the gossipers. No day passed without an extended discussion
+of their affairs. Bearers of fresh news were eagerly welcomed both to
+toddy and tea tables.
+
+Old Morris Murdoch, who knew Willits's father intimately, being a strong
+Clay man himself, arrived at one of these functions with the astounding
+information that Willits had called on Miss Seymour, wearing his hat in
+her presence to conceal his much-beplastered head. That he had then and
+there not only made her a most humble apology for his ill-tempered
+outbreak, which he explained was due entirely to a combination of
+egg-and-brandy, with a dash of apple-toddy thrown in, but had declared
+upon his honor as a gentleman that he would never again touch the
+flowing bowl. Whereupon--(and this excited still greater astonishment)
+--the delighted young lady had not only expressed her sympathy for his
+misfortunes, but had blamed herself for what had occurred!
+
+Tom Tilghman, a famous cross-country rider, who had ridden in post haste
+from his country seat near Moorlands to tell the tale--as could be seen
+from his boots, which were still covered with mud--boldly asserted of
+his own knowledge that the wounded man, instead of seeking his native
+shore, as was generally believed, would betake himself to the Red
+Sulphur Springs (where Kate always spent the summer)--accompanied by
+three saddle horses, two servants, some extra bandages, and his devoted
+sister, there to regain what was left of his health and strength. At
+which Judge Pancoast had retorted--and with some heat--that Willits
+might take a dozen saddle horses and an equal number of sisters, and a
+bale of bandages if he were so minded, to the Springs, or any other
+place, but he would save time and money if he stayed at home and looked
+after his addled head, as no woman of Miss Seymour's blood and breeding
+could possibly marry a man whose family escutcheon needed polishing as
+badly as did his manners. That the fact--the plain, bold fact--and here
+the judge's voice rose to a high pitch--was that Willits was boiling
+drunk until Harry's challenge sobered him, and that Kate hated
+drunkenness as much as did Harry's mother and the other women who had
+started out to revolutionize society.
+
+What that young lady herself thought of it all not even the best-posted
+gossip in the club dared to venture an opinion. Moreover, such was the
+respect and reverence in which she was held, and so great was the
+sympathy felt for her situation, that she was seldom referred to in
+connection with Harry or the affair except with a sigh, followed by a
+"Too bad, isn't it?--enough to break your heart," and such like
+expressions.
+
+What the Honorable Prim thought of it all was apparent the next day at
+the club when he sputtered out with:
+
+"Here's a nice mess for a man of my position to find himself in! Do you
+know that I am now pointed out as the prospective father-in-law of a
+young jackanapes who goes about with a glass of grog in one hand and a
+pistol in the other. I am not accustomed to having my name bandied about
+and I won't have it--I live a life of great simplicity, minding my own
+business, and I want everybody else to mind theirs. The whole affair is
+most contemptible and ridiculous and smacks of the tin-armor age.
+Willits should have been led quietly out of the room and put to bed and
+young Rutter should have been reprimanded publicly by his father.
+Disgraceful on a night like that when my daughter's name was on
+everybody's lips."
+
+After which outburst he had shut himself up in his house, where, so he
+told one of his intimates, he intended to remain until he left for the
+Red Sulphur Springs, which he would do several weeks earlier than was
+his custom--a piece of news which not only confirmed Tom Tilghman's
+gossip, but lifted several eyebrows in astonishment and set one or two
+loose tongues to wagging.
+
+Out at Moorlands, the point of view varied as the aftermath of the
+tragedy developed, the colonel alone pursuing his daily life without
+comment, although deep down in his heart a very maelstrom was boiling
+and seething.
+
+Mrs. Rutter, as fate would have it, on hearing that Kate was too ill to
+go back to town, had gone the next morning to her bedside, where she
+learned for the first time not only of the duel--which greatly shocked
+her, leaving her at first perfectly limp and helpless--but of Harry's
+expulsion from his father's house--(Alec owned the private wire)--a
+piece of news which at first terrified and then keyed her up as tight as
+an overstrung violin. Like many another Southern woman, she might shrink
+from a cut on a child's finger and only regain her mental poise by a
+liberal application of smelling salts, but once touch that boy of
+hers--the child she had nourished and lived for--and all the rage of the
+she-wolf fighting for her cub was aroused. What took place behind the
+closed doors of her bedroom when she faced the colonel and flamed out,
+no one but themselves knew. That the colonel was dumfounded--never
+having seen her in any such state of mind--goes without saying. That he
+was proud of her and liked her the better for it, is also true--nothing
+delighted him so much as courage;--but nothing of all this, impressive
+as it was, either weakened or altered his resolve.
+
+Nor did he change front to his friends and acquaintances: his honorable
+name, he maintained, had been trailed in the mud; his boasted
+hospitality betrayed; his house turned into a common shamble. That his
+own son was the culprit made the pain and mortification the greater, but
+it did not lessen his responsibility to his blood. Had not Foscari, to
+save his honor, in the days of the great republic, condemned his own son
+Jacopo to exile and death? Had not Virginius slain his daughter? Should
+he not protect his own honor as well? Furthermore, was not the young
+man's father a gentleman of standing--a prominent man in the State--a
+friend not only of his own friend, Henry Clay, but of the governor as
+well? He, of course, would not have Harry marry into the family had
+there been a marriageable daughter, but that was no reason why Mr.
+Willits's only son should not be treated with every consideration. He,
+Talbot Rutter, was alone responsible for the honor of his house. When
+your right hand offends you cut it off. His right hand HAD offended him,
+and he HAD cut it off. Away, then, with the spinning of fine phrases!
+
+And so he let the hornets buzz--and they did swarm and buzz and sting.
+As long as his wrath lasted he was proof against their assaults--in fact
+their attacks only confirmed him in his position. It was when all this
+ceased, for few continued to remonstrate with him after they had heard
+his final: "I decline to discuss it with you, madame," or the more
+significant: "How dare you, sir, refer to my private affairs without my
+permission?"--it was, I say, when all this ceased, and when neither his
+wife, who after her first savage outbreak had purposely held her peace,
+nor any of the servants--not even old Alec, who went about with
+streaming eyes and a great lump in his throat--dared renew their
+entreaties for Marse Harry's return, that he began to reflect on his
+course.
+
+Soon the great silences overawed him--periods of loneliness when he sat
+confronting his soul, his conscience on the bench as judge; his
+affections a special attorney:--silences of the night, in which he would
+listen for the strong, quick, manly footstep and the closing of the door
+in the corridor beyond:--silences of the dawn, when no clatter of hoofs
+followed by a cheery call rang out for some one to take
+Spitfire:--silences of the breakfast table, when he drank his coffee
+alone, Alec tip-toeing about like a lost spirit. Sometimes his heart
+would triumph and he begin to think out ways and means by which the past
+could be effaced. Then again the flag of his pride would be raised aloft
+so that he and all the people could see, and the old hard look would
+once more settle in his face, the lips straighten and the thin fingers
+tighten. No--NO! No assassins for him--no vulgar brawlers--and it was at
+best a vulgar brawl--and this too within the confines of Moorlands,
+where, for five generations, only gentlemen had been bred!
+
+And yet, product as he was of a regime that worshipped no ideals but its
+own; hide-bound by the traditions of his ancestry; holding in secret
+disdain men and women who could not boast of equal wealth and lineage;
+dictatorial, uncontradictable; stickler for obsolete forms and
+ceremonies--there still lay deep under the crust of his pride the heart
+of a father, and, by his standards, the soul of a gentleman.
+
+What this renegade son of his thought of it all; this disturber of his
+father's sleeping and waking hours, was far easier to discover. Dazed as
+Harry had been at the parental verdict and heart-broken as he still was
+over the dire results, he could not, though he tried, see what else he
+could have done. His father, he argued to himself, had shot and killed a
+man when he was but little older than himself, and for an offence much
+less grave than Willits's insult to Kate: he had frequently boasted of
+it, showing him the big brass button that had deflected the bullet and
+saved his life. So had his Uncle George, five years before--not a dead
+man that time, but a lame one--who was still limping around the club and
+very good friends the two, so far as he knew. Why then blame HIM? As for
+the law of hospitality being violated, that was but one of the
+idiosyncrasies of his father, who was daft on hospitality. How could
+Willits be his guest when he was his enemy? St. George had begged the
+wounded man to apologize; if he had done so he would have extended his
+hand and taken him to Kate, who, upon a second apology, would have
+extended her hand, and the incident would have been closed. It was
+Willits's stubbornness and bad breeding, then, that had caused the
+catastrophe--not his own bullet.
+
+Besides no real harm had been done--that is, nothing very serious.
+Willits had gained strength rapidly--so much so that he had sat up the
+third day. Moreover, he had the next morning been carried to one of the
+downstairs bedrooms, where, he understood, Kate had sent her black mammy
+for news of him, and where, later on, he had been visited by both Mrs.
+Rutter and Kate--a most extraordinary condescension on the young girl's
+part, and one for which Willits should be profoundly grateful all the
+days of his life.
+
+Nor had Willits's people made any complaint; nor, so far as he could
+ascertain, had any one connected with either the town or county
+government started an investigation. It was outside the precincts of
+Kennedy Square, and, therefore, the town prosecuting attorney (who had
+heard every detail at the Chesapeake from St. George) had not been
+called upon to act, and it was well known that no minion of the law in
+and about Moorlands would ever dare face the Lord of the Manor in any
+official capacity.
+
+Why, then, had he been so severely punished?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+
+While all this talk filled the air it is worthy of comment that after
+his denunciation of Pancoast's views at the club, St. George never again
+discussed the duel and its outcome. His mind was filled with more
+important things:--one in particular--a burning desire to bring the
+lovers together, no matter at what cost nor how great the barriers. He
+had not, despite his silence, altered a hair-line of the opinion he had
+held on the night he ordered the gig, fastened Harry's heavy coat around
+the young man's shoulders, and started back with him through the rain to
+his house on Kennedy Square; nor did he intend to. This, summed up,
+meant that the colonel was a tyrant, Willits a vulgarian, and Harry a
+hot-headed young knight, who, having been forced into a position where
+he could neither breathe nor move, had gallantly fought his way out.
+
+The one problem that gave him serious trouble was the selection of the
+precise moment when he should make a strategic move on Kate's heart;
+lesser problems were his manner of approaching her and the excuses he
+would offer for Harry's behavior. These not only kept him awake at
+night, but pursued him like an avenging spirit when he sought the quiet
+paths of the old square, the dogs at his heels. The greatest of all
+barriers, he felt assured, would be Kate herself. He had seen enough of
+her in that last interview, when his tender pleading had restored the
+harmonies between herself and Harry, to know that she was no longer the
+child whose sweetness he loved, or the girl whose beauty he was proud
+of--but the woman whose judgment he must satisfy. Nor could he see that
+any immediate change in her mental attitude was likely to occur. Some
+time had now passed since Harry's arrival at his house, and every day
+the boy had begged for admission at Kate's door, only to be denied by
+Ben, the old butler. His mother, who had visited her exiled son almost
+daily, had then called on her, bearing two important pieces of news--one
+being that after hours of pleading Harry had consented to return to
+Moorlands and beg his father's pardon, provided that irate gentleman
+should send for him, and the other the recounting of a message of
+condolence and sympathy which Willits had sent Harry from his sick-bed,
+in which he admitted that he had been greatly to blame. (An admission
+which fairly bubbled out of him when he learned that Harry had assisted
+Teackle in dressing his wound.)
+
+And yet with all this pressure the young girl had held her own. To every
+one outside the Rutter clan she had insisted that she was sorry for
+Harry, but that she could never marry a man whose temper she could not
+trust. She never put this into words in answering the well-meant
+inquiries of such girl friends as Nellie Murdoch, Sue Dorsey, and the
+others; then her eyes would only fill with tears as she begged them not
+to question her further. Nor had she said as much to her father, who on
+one occasion had asked her the plump question--"Do you still intend to
+marry that hot-head?"--to which she had returned the equally positive
+answer--"No, I never shall!" She reserved her full meaning for St.
+George when he should again entreat her--as she knew he would at the
+first opportunity--to forget the past and begin the old life once more.
+
+At the end of the second week St. George had made up his mind as to his
+course; and at the end of the third the old diplomat, who had dared
+defeat before, boldly mounted the Seymour steps. He would appeal to
+Harry's love for her, and all would be well. He had done so before,
+picturing the misery the boy was suffering, and he would try it again.
+If he could only reach her heart through the armor of her reserve she
+would yield.
+
+She answered his cheery call up the stairway in person, greeting him
+silently, but with arms extended, leading him to a seat beside her,
+where she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears.
+
+"Harry has tried to see you every day, Kate," he began, patting her
+shoulders lovingly in the effort to calm her. "I found him under your
+window the other night; he walks the streets by the hour, then he comes
+home exhausted, throws himself on his bed, and lies awake till
+daylight."
+
+The girl raised her head and looked at him for a moment. She knew what
+he had come for--she knew, too, how sorry he felt for her--for
+Harry--for everybody who had suffered because of this horror.
+
+"Uncle George," she answered, choking back her tears, speaking slowly,
+weighing each word--"you've known me from a little girl--ever since my
+dear mother died. You have been a big brother to me many, many times and
+I love you for it. If I were determined to do anything that would hurt
+me, and you found it out in time, you would come and tell me so,
+wouldn't you?"
+
+St. George nodded his head in answer, but he did not interrupt. Her
+heart was being slowly unrolled before him, and he would wait until it
+was all bare.
+
+"Now," she continued, "the case is reversed, and you want me to do
+something which I know will hurt me."
+
+"But you love him, Kate?"
+
+"Yes--that is the worst part of it all," she answered with a stifled
+sob--"yes, I love him." She lifted herself higher on the cushions and
+put her beautiful arms above her head, her eyes looking into space as if
+she was trying to solve the problem of what her present resolve would
+mean to both herself and Harry.
+
+St. George began again: "And you remember how--"
+
+She turned impatiently and dropped one hand until it rested on his own.
+He thought he had never seen her look so lovely and never so unhappy.
+Then she said in pleading tones--her eyes blinded by half-restrained
+tears:
+
+"Don't ask me to REMEMBER, dear Uncle George--help me to forget! You
+can do no kinder thing for both of us."
+
+"But think of your whole future happiness, Kate--think how important it
+is to you--to Harry--to everybody--that you should not shut him out of
+your life."
+
+"I have thought! God knows I have thought until sometimes I think I
+shall go mad. He first breaks his promise about drinking and I forgive
+him; then he yields to a sudden impulse and behaves like a mad-man and
+you ask me to forgive him again. He never once thinks of me, nor of my
+humiliation!" Her lips were quivering, but her voice rang clear.
+
+"He thinks of nothing else BUT you," he pleaded. "Let your heart
+work--don't throw him into the street as his father has done. He loves
+you so."
+
+"_I_--throw HIM in the street! He has thrown ME--mortified me before
+everybody--behaved like a--No,--I can't--I won't discuss it!"
+
+"May I--"
+
+"No--not another word. I love you too much to let this come between us.
+Let us talk of something else--anything--ANYTHING."
+
+The whole chart of her heart had been unrolled. Her head and not her
+heart was dominant. He felt, moreover, that no argument of his would be
+of any use. Time might work out the solution, but this he could not
+hasten. Nor, if the truth be told, did he blame her. It was, from the
+girl's point of view, most unfortunate, of course, that the two
+calamities of Harry's drunkenness and the duel had come so close
+together. Perhaps--and for the first time in his life he weakened before
+her tears--perhaps if he had thrown the case of pistols out of the
+window, sent one man to his father and the other back to Kennedy Square,
+it might all have been different--but then again, could this have been
+done, and if it had been, would not all have to be done over again the
+next day? At last he asked hopelessly:
+
+"Have you no message for Harry?"
+
+"None," she answered resolutely.
+
+"And you will not see him?"
+
+"No--we can never heal wounds by keeping them open." This came calmly,
+and as if she had made up her mind, and in so determined a tone that he
+saw it meant an end to the interview.
+
+He rose from his seat and without another word turned toward the door.
+She gained her feet slowly, as if the very movement caused her pain; put
+her arms around his neck, kissed him on the cheek, followed him to the
+door, waved her hand to him as she watched him pick his way across the
+square, and threw herself on her lounge in an agony of tears.
+
+
+That night St. George and Harry sat by the smouldering wood fire; the
+early spring days were warm and joyous, but the nights were still cool.
+The boy sat hunched up in his chair, his face drawn into lines from the
+anxiety of the past week; his mind absorbed in the story that St. George
+had brought from the Seymour house. As in all ardent temperaments, these
+differences with Kate, which had started as a spark, had now developed
+into a conflagration which was burning out his heart. His love for Kate
+was not a part of his life--it was ALL of his life. He was ready now for
+any sacrifice, no matter how humiliating. He would go down on his knees
+to his father if she wished it. He would beg Willits's pardon--he would
+abase himself in any way St. George should suggest. He had done what he
+thought was right, and he would do it over again under like
+circumstances, but he would grovel at Kate's feet and kiss the ground
+she stepped on if she required it of him.
+
+St. George, who had sat quiet, examining closely the backs of his finely
+modelled hands as if to find some solution of the difficulty written in
+their delicate articulated curves, heard his outburst in silence. Now
+and then he would call to Todd, who was never out of reach of his
+voice--no matter what the hour--to replenish the fire or snuff the
+candles, but he answered only in nods and monosyllables to Harry. One
+suggestion only of the heart-broken lover seemed to promise any result,
+and that was his making it up with his father as his mother had
+suggested. This wall being broken down, and Willits no longer an
+invalid, perhaps Kate would see matters in a different and more
+favorable light.
+
+"But suppose father doesn't send for me, Uncle George, what will I do
+then?"
+
+"Well, he is your father, Harry."
+
+"And you think then I had better go home and have it out with him?"
+
+St. George hesitated. He himself would have seen Rutter in Hades before
+he would have apologized to him. In fact his anger choked him so every
+time he thought of the brutal and disgraceful scene he had witnessed
+when the boy had been ordered from his home, that he could hardly get
+his breath. But then Kate was not his sweetheart, much as he loved her.
+
+"I don't know, Harry. I am not his son," he answered in an undecided
+way. Then something the boy's mother had said rose in his mind: "Didn't
+your mother say that your father's loneliness without you was having its
+effect?--and wasn't her advice to wait until he should send for you?"
+
+"Yes--that was about it."
+
+"Well, your mother would know best. Put that question to her next time
+she comes in--I'm not competent to answer it. And now let us go to
+bed--you are tired out, and so am I."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+
+
+Mysterious things are happening in Kennedy Square. Only the very wisest
+men know what it is all about--black Moses for one, who tramps the
+brick walks and makes short cuts through the dirt paths, carrying his
+tin buckets and shouting: "Po' ole Moses--po' ole fellah! O-Y-S-T-E-R-S!
+O-Y-STERS!" And Bobbins, the gardener, who raked up last year's autumn
+leaves and either burned them in piles or spread them on the flower-beds
+as winter blankets. And, of course, Mockburn, the night watchman:
+nothing ever happens in and around Kennedy Square that Mockburn doesn't
+know of. Many a time has he helped various unsteady gentlemen up the
+steps of their houses and stowed them carefully and noiselessly away
+inside, only to begin his rounds again, stopping at every corner to
+drone out his "All's we-l-l!" a welcome cry, no doubt, to the stowaways,
+but a totally unnecessary piece of information to the inhabitants,
+nothing worse than a tippler's tumble having happened in the forty years
+of the old watchman's service.
+
+I, of course, am in the secret of the mysterious happenings and have
+been for more years than I care to admit, but then I go ten better than
+Mockburn. And so would you be in the secret had you watched the process
+as closely as I have done.
+
+It is always the same!
+
+First the crocuses peep out--dozens of crocuses. Then a spread of tulips
+makes a crazy-quilt of a flowerbed; next the baby buds, their delicate
+green toes tickled by the south wind, break into laughter. Then the
+stately magnolias step free of their pods, their satin leaves falling
+from their alabaster shoulders--grandes dames these magnolias! And then
+there is no stopping it: everything is let loose; blossoms of peach,
+cherry, and pear; flowers of syringa--bloom of jasmine, honeysuckle, and
+Virginia creeper; bridal wreath in flowers of white and wistaria in
+festoons of purple.
+
+Then come the roses--millions of roses; on single stalks; in clusters,
+in mobs; rushing over summer-houses, scaling fences, swarming up
+trellises--a riotous, unruly, irresistible, and altogether lovable lot
+these roses when they break loose!
+
+And the birds! What a time they are having--thrush, bobolinks,
+blackbirds, nightingales, woodpeckers, little pee-wees, all fluttering,
+skimming, chirping; bursting their tiny throats for the very joy of
+living. And they are all welcome--and it wouldn't make any difference to
+them if they hadn't been; they would have risked it anyway, so tempting
+are the shady paths and tangled arbors and wide-spreading elms and
+butternuts of Kennedy Square.
+
+Soon the skies get over weeping for the lost winter and dry their eyes,
+and the big, warm, happy sun sails over the tree-tops or drops to sleep,
+tired out, behind the old Seymour house, and the girls come out in their
+white dresses and silk sashes and the gallants in their nankeens and
+pumps and the old life of out-of-doors begins once more.
+
+
+And these are not the only changes that the coming of spring has
+wrought. What has been going on deep down in the tender, expectant
+hearts of root and bulb, eager for expression, had been at work in
+Harry's own temperament. The sunshine of St. George's companionship has
+already had its effect; the boy is thawing out; his shrinking shyness,
+born of his recent trouble, is disappearing like a morning frost. He is
+again seen at the club, going first under St. George's lee and then on
+his own personal footing.
+
+The Chesapeake, so St. George had urged upon him, was the centre of
+news--the headquarters, really, of the town, where not only the current
+happenings and gossip of Kennedy Square were discussed, but that of the
+country at large. While the bald-heads, of course, would be canvassing
+the news from Mexico, which was just beginning to have an ugly look, or
+having it out, hammer and tongs, over the defeat of Henry Clay, to which
+some rabid politicians had never become reconciled, the younger
+gentry--men of Harry's own tastes--would be deploring the poor showing
+the ducks were making, owing to the up-river freshets which had spoiled
+the wild celery; or recounting the doings at Mrs. Cheston's last ball;
+or the terrapin supper at Mr. Kennedy's, the famous writer; or perhaps
+bemoaning the calamity which had befallen some fellow member who had
+just found seven bottles out of ten of his most precious port corked and
+worthless. But whatever the topics, or whoever took sides in their
+discussion, none of it, so St. George argued, could fail to interest a
+young fellow just entering upon the wider life of a man of the world,
+and one, of all others, who needed constant companionship. Then again,
+by showing himself frequently within its walls, Harry would become
+better known and better liked.
+
+That he was ineligible for membership, being years too young, and that
+his continued presence, even as a guest, was against the rules, did not
+count in his case, or if it did count, no member, in view of what the
+lad had suffered, was willing to raise the question. Indeed, St. George,
+in first introducing him, had referred to "my friend, Mr. Rutter," as an
+"out of town guest," laughing as he did so, everybody laughing in
+return, and so it had gone at that.
+
+At first Harry had dreaded meeting his father's and his uncle's friends,
+most of whom, he fancied, might be disposed to judge him too harshly.
+But St. George had shut his ears to every objection, insisting that the
+club was a place where a man could be as independent as he pleased, and
+that as his guest he would be entitled to every consideration.
+
+The boy need not have been worried. Almost every member, young and old,
+showed by his manner or some little act of attention that their
+sympathies were with the exile. While a few strait-laced old Quakers
+maintained that it was criminal to blaze away at your fellow-man with
+the firm intention of blowing the top of his head off, and that Harry
+should have been hung had Willits died, there were others more
+discerning--and they were largely in the majority--who stood up for the
+lad however much they deplored the cause of his banishment. Harry, they
+argued, had in his brief career been an unbroken colt, and more or less
+dissipated, but he at least had not shown the white feather. Boy as he
+was, he had faced his antagonist with the coolness of a duellist of a
+score of encounters, letting Willits fire straight at him without so
+much as the wink of an eyelid; and, when it was all over, had been man
+enough to nurse his victim back to consciousness. Moreover--and this
+counted much in his favor--he had refused to quarrel with his irate
+father, or even answer him. "Behaved himself like a thoroughbred, as he
+is," Dorsey Sullivan, a famous duellist, had remarked in recounting the
+occurrence to a non-witness. "And I must say, sir, that Talbot served
+him a scurvy trick, and I don't care who hears me say it." Furthermore
+--and this made a great impression--that rather than humiliate himself,
+the boy had abandoned the comforts of his palatial home at Moorlands and
+was at the moment occupying a small, second-story back room (all, it is
+true, Gentleman George could give him), where he was to be found any
+hour of the day or night that his uncle needed him in attendance upon
+that prince of good fellows.
+
+One other thing that counted in his favor, and this was conclusive with
+the Quakers--and the club held not a few--was that no drop of liquor of
+any kind had passed the boy's lips since the eventful night when St.
+George prepared the way for their first reconciliation.
+
+Summed up, then, whatever Harry had been in the past, the verdict at the
+present speaking was that he was a brave, tender-hearted, truthful
+fellow who, in the face of every temptation, had kept his word.
+Moreover, it was never forgotten that he was Colonel Talbot Rutter's
+only son and heir, so that no matter what the boy did, or how angry the
+old autocrat might be, it could only be a question of time before his
+father must send for him and everything at Moorlands go on as before.
+
+
+It was on one of these glorious never-to-be-forgotten spring days, then,
+a week or more after St. George had given up the fight with Kate--a day
+which Harry remembered all the rest of his life--that he and his uncle
+left the house to spend the afternoon, as was now their custom, at the
+Chesapeake. The two had passed the early hours of the day at the Relay
+House fishing for gudgeons, the dogs scampering the hills, and having
+changed their clothes for something cooler, had entered the park by the
+gate opposite the Temple Mansion, as being nearest to the club; a path
+Harry loved, for he and Kate had often stepped it together--and then
+again, it was the shortest cut to her house.
+
+As the beauty and quiet of the place with its mottling of light and
+shade took possession of him he slackened his pace, lagging a little
+behind his uncle, and began to look about him, drinking in the
+loveliness of the season. The very air breathed tenderness, peace, and
+comfort. Certainly his father's heart must be softening toward him;
+surely his bitterness could not last. No word, it is true, had yet come
+to him from Moorlands, though only the week before his mother had been
+in to see him, bringing him news of his father and what her son's
+absence had meant to every one, old Alec especially. She had not, she
+said, revived the subject of the boy's apology; she had thought it
+better to wait for the proper opportunity, which might come any day, but
+certain it was that his father was most unhappy, for he would shut
+himself up hours at a time in his library, locking the door and refusing
+to open it, no matter who knocked, except to old John Gorsuch, his man
+of business. She had also heard him tossing on his bed at night, or
+walking about his room muttering to himself.
+
+Did these things, he wondered on this bright spring morning, mean a
+final reconciliation, or was he, after all, to be doomed to further
+disappointment? Days had passed since his mother had assured him of this
+change in his father, and still no word had come from him. Had he at
+last altered his mind, or, worse still, had his old obstinacy again
+taken possession of him, hardening his heart so that he would never
+relent? And so, with his mind as checkered as the shadow-flecked path
+on which they stepped, he pursued his way beneath the wide-spreading
+trees.
+
+When the two had crossed the street St. George's eye rested upon a group
+on the sidewalk of the club. The summer weather generally emptied the
+coffee-room of most of its habitues, sending many of them to the
+easy-chairs on the sprinkled pavement, one or two tipped back against
+the trees, or to the balconies and front steps. With his arm in Harry's
+he passed from one coterie to another in the hope that he might catch
+some word which would be interesting enough to induce him to fill one of
+the chairs, even for a brief half-hour, but nothing reached his ears
+except politics and crops, and he cared for neither. Harding--the
+pessimist of the club--a man who always had a grievance (and this time
+with reason, for the money stringency was becoming more acute every
+day), tried to beguile him into a seat beside him, but he shook his
+head. He knew all about Harding, and wanted none of his kind of
+talk--certainly not to-day.
+
+"Think of it!" he had heard the growler say to Judge Pancoast as he was
+about to pass his chair--"the Patapsco won't give me a cent to move my
+crops, and I hear all the others are in the same fix. You can't get a
+dollar on a house and lot except at a frightful rate of interest. I tell
+you everything is going to ruin. How the devil do you get on without
+money, Temple?" He was spread out in his seat, his legs apart, his fat
+face turned up, his small fox eyes fixed on St. George.
+
+"I don't get on," remarked St. George with a dry smile. He was still
+standing. "Why do you ask?" Money rarely troubled St. George; such small
+sums as he possessed were hived in this same Patapsco Bank, but the
+cashier had never refused to honor one of his checks as long as he had
+any money in their vaults, and he didn't think they would begin now.
+"Queer question for you to ask, Harding" (and a trifle underbred, he
+thought, one's private affairs not being generally discussed at a club).
+"Why does it interest you?"
+
+"Well, you always say you despise money and yet you seem happy and
+contented, well dressed, well groomed"--here he wheeled St. George
+around to look at his back--"yes, got on one of your London coats--
+Hello, Harry!--glad to see you," and he held out his hand to the boy.
+"But really, St. George, aren't you a little worried over the financial
+outlook? John Gorsuch says we are going to have trouble, and John
+knows."
+
+"No"--drawled St. George--"I'm not worried."
+
+"And you don't think we're going to have another smash-up?" puffed
+Harding.
+
+"No," said St. George, edging his way toward the steps of the club as he
+spoke. He was now entirely through with Harding; his financial
+forebodings were as distasteful to him as his comments on his clothes
+and bank account.
+
+"But you'll have a julep, won't you? I've just sent John for them. Don't
+go--sit down. Here, John, take Mr. Temple's order for--"
+
+"No, Harding, thank you." The crushed ice in the glass was no cooler nor
+crisper than St. George's tone. "Harry and I have been broiling in the
+sun all the morning and we are going to go where it is cool."
+
+"But it's cool here," Harding called after him, struggling to his feet
+in the effort to detain him. There was really no one in the club he
+liked better than St. George.
+
+"No--we'll try it inside," and with a courteous wave of his hand and a
+feeling of relief in his heart, he and Harry kept on their way.
+
+He turned to mount the steps when the sudden pushing back of all the
+chairs on the sidewalk attracted his attention. Two ladies were picking
+their way across the street in the direction of the club. These, on
+closer inspection, proved to be Miss Lavinia Clendenning and her niece,
+Sue Dorsey, who had been descried in the offing a few minutes before by
+the gallants on the curbstone, and who at first had been supposed to be
+heading for Mrs. Pancoast's front steps some distance away, until the
+pair, turning sharply, had borne down upon the outside chairs with all
+sails set--(Miss Clendenning's skirts were of the widest)--a shift of
+canvas which sent every man to his feet with a spring.
+
+Before St. George could reach the group, which he did in advance of
+Harry, who held back--both ladies being intimate friends of Kate's--old
+Captain Warfield, the first man to gain his feet--very round and fat was
+the captain and very red in the face (1812 Port)--was saying with his
+most courteous bow:
+
+"But, my dear Miss Lavinia, you have not as yet told us to what we are
+indebted for this mark of your graciousness; and Sue, my dear, you grow
+more like your dear mother every day. Why are you two angels abroad at
+this hour, and what can we do for you?"
+
+"To the simple fact, my dear captain," retorted the irresistible
+spinster, spreading her skirts the wider, both arms akimbo--her thin
+fingers acting as clothespins, "that Sue is to take her dancing lesson
+next door, and as I can't fly in the second-story window, having mislaid
+my wings, I must use my feet and disturb everybody. No, gentlemen--don't
+move--I can pass."
+
+The captain made so profound a salaam in reply that his hat grazed the
+bricks of the sidewalk.
+
+"Let me hunt for them, Miss Lavinia. I know where they are!" he
+exclaimed, with his hand on his heart.
+
+"Where?" she asked roguishly, twisting her head on one side with the
+movement of a listening bird.
+
+"In heaven, my lady, where they are waiting your arrival," he answered,
+with another profound sweep of his hand and dip of his back, his bald
+head glistening in the sunlight as he stooped before her.
+
+"Then you will never get near them," she returned with an equally low
+curtsy and a laugh that nearly shook her side curls loose.
+
+St. George was about to step the closer to take a hand in the
+badinage--he and the little old maid were forever crossing swords--when
+her eyes fell upon him. Instantly her expression changed. She was one of
+the women who had blamed him for not stopping the duel, and had been on
+the lookout for him for days to air her views in person.
+
+"So you are still in town, are you?" she remarked frigidly in lowered
+tones. "I thought you had taken that young firebrand down to the Eastern
+Shore to cool off."
+
+St. George frowned meaningly in the effort to apprise her ladyship that
+Harry was within hearing distance, but Miss Lavinia either did not, or
+would not, understand.
+
+"Two young boobies, that's what they are, breaking their hearts over
+each other," she rattled on, gathering the ends of her cape the closer.
+"Both of them ought to be spanked and put to bed. Get them into each
+other's arms just as quick as you can. As for Talbot Rutter, he's the
+biggest fool of the three, or was until Annie Rutter got hold of him.
+Now I hear he is willing to let Harry come back, as if that would do any
+good. It's Kate who must be looked after; that Scotch blood in her veins
+makes her as pig-headed as her father. No--I don't want your arm,
+sir--get out of my way."
+
+If the courtiers heard--and half of them did--they neither by word or
+expression conveyed that fact to Harry or St. George. It was not
+intended for their ears, and, therefore, was not their property. With
+still more profound salutations from everybody, the three bareheaded men
+escorted them to the next stoop, the fourth going ahead to see that the
+door was properly opened, and so the ladies passed on, up and inside the
+house. This over, the group resumed its normal condition on the
+sidewalk, the men regaining their seats and relighting their cigars (no
+gentleman ever held one in evidence when ladies were present)--fresh
+orders being given to the servants for the several interrupted mixtures
+with which the coterie were wont to regale themselves.
+
+Harry, who had stood with shoulders braced against a great tree on the
+sidewalk, had heard every word of the old maid's outburst, and an
+unrestrained burst of joy had surged up in his heart. His father was
+coming round! Yes--the tide was turning--it would not be long before
+Kate would be in his arms!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+
+
+St. George held no such sanguine view, although he made no comment. In
+fact the outbreak had rather depressed him. He knew something of
+Talbot's stubbornness and did not hope for much in that direction, nor,
+if the truth be told, did he hope much in Kate's. Time alone could heal
+her wounds, and time in the case of a young girl, mistress of herself,
+beautiful, independent, and rich, might contain many surprises.
+
+It was with a certain sense of relief, therefore, that he again sought
+the inside of the club. Its restful quiet would at least take his mind
+from the one subject which seemed to pursue him and which Miss
+Clendenning's positive and, as he thought, inconsiderate remarks had so
+suddenly revived.
+
+Before he had reached the top step his face broke out into a broad
+smile. Instantly his spirits rose. Standing in the open front door, with
+outstretched hand, was the man of all others he would rather have
+seen--Richard Horn, the inventor.
+
+"Ah, St. George, but I'm glad to see you!", cried Richard. "I have been
+looking for you all the afternoon and only just a moment ago got sight
+of you on the sidewalk. I should certainly have stepped over to your
+house and looked you up if you hadn't come. I've got the most
+extraordinary thing to read to you that you have ever listened to in the
+whole course of your life. How well you look, and what a fine color you
+have, and you too, Harry. You are in luck, my boy. I'd like to stay a
+month with Temple myself."
+
+"Make it a year, Richard," cried St. George, resting his hand
+affectionately on the inventor's shoulder. "There isn't a chair in my
+house that isn't happier when you sit in it. What have you discovered?--
+some new whirligig?"
+
+"No, a poem. Eighteen to twenty stanzas of glorious melody imprisoned in
+type."
+
+"One of your own?" laughed St. George--one of his merry vibrating laughs
+that made everybody happier about him. The sight of Richard had swept
+all the cobwebs out of his brain.
+
+"No, you trifler!--one of Edgar Allan Poe's. None of your scoffing, sir!
+You may go home in tears before I am through with you. This way, both of
+you."
+
+The three had entered the coffee-room now, Richard's arm through St.
+George's, Harry following close. The inventor drew out the chairs one
+after another, and when they were all three seated took a missive from
+his pocket and spread it out on his knee, St. George and Harry keeping
+their eyes on his every movement.
+
+"Here's a letter, St. George"--Richard's voice now fell to a serious
+key--"which I have just received from your friend and mine, Mr. N. P.
+Willis. In it he sends me this most wonderful poem cut from his paper--
+the Mirror--and published, I discover to my astonishment, some months
+back. I am going to read it to you if you will permit me. It certainly
+is a most remarkable production. The wonder to me is that I haven't seen
+it before. It is by that Mr. Poe you met at my house some years ago--you
+remember him?--a rather sad-looking man with big head and deep eyes?"
+Temple nodded in answer, and Harry's eyes glistened: Poe was one of his
+university's gods. "Just let me read to you what Willis says"--here he
+glanced down the letter sheet: "'Nothing, I assure you, my dear Horn,
+has made so great a stir in literary circles as this "Raven" of Poe's. I
+am sending it to you knowing that you are interested in the man. If I do
+not mistake I first met Poe one night at your house.' And a very
+extraordinary night it was, St. George," said Richard, lifting his eyes
+from the sheet. "Poe, if you remember, read one of his stories for us,
+and both Latrobe and Kennedy were so charmed that they talked of nothing
+else for days."
+
+St. George remembered so clearly that he could still recall the tones of
+Poe's voice, and the peculiar lambent light that flashed from out the
+poet's dark eyes--the light of a black opal. He settled himself back in
+his chair to enjoy the treat the better. This was the kind of talk he
+wanted to-day, and Richard Horn, of all others, was the man to conduct
+it.
+
+The inventor's earnestness and the absorbed look on St. George's and
+Harry's faces, and the fact that Horn was about to read aloud, had
+attracted the attention of several near-by members, who were already
+straining their ears, for no one had Richard's gift for reading.
+
+In low, clear tones, his voice rising in intensity as the weird pathos
+of the several stanzas gripped his heart, he unfolded the marvellous
+drama until the very room seemed filled with the spirit of both the man
+and the demon. Every stanza in his clear enunciation seemed a separate
+string of sombre pearls, each syllable aglow with its own inherent
+beauty. When he ceased it was as if the soul of some great 'cello had
+stopped vibrating, leaving only the memory of its melody. For a few
+seconds no one moved nor spoke. No one had ever heard Richard in finer
+voice nor had they ever listened to more perfect rhythmic beauty. So
+great was the effect on the audience that one old habitue, in speaking
+of it afterward, insisted that Richard must have seen the bird roosting
+over the door, so realistic was his rendering.
+
+Harry had listened with bated breath, absorbing every tone and
+inflection of Richard's voice. He and Poe had been members of the same
+university, and the poet had always been one of his idols--the man of
+all others he wanted most to know. Poe's former room opening into the
+corridor had invariably attracted him. He had frequently looked about
+its bare walls wondering how so great an inspiration could have started
+from such meagre surroundings. He had, too, with the romantic
+imagination of a boy, pictured to himself the kind of man he was, his
+looks, voice, and manner, and though he had never seen the poet in the
+flesh, somehow the tones of Richard's voice recalled to him the very
+picture he had conjured up in his mind in his boyhood days.
+
+St. George had also listened intently, but the impression was quite
+different from the one made on the younger man. Temple thought only of
+Poe's despondency, of his striving for a better and happier life; of his
+poverty--more than once had he gone down into his own pockets to relieve
+the poor fellow's urgent necessities, and he was still ready to do it
+again--a readiness in which he was almost alone, for many of the
+writer's earlier friends had of late avoided meeting him whenever he
+passed through Kennedy Square. Even Kennedy, his life-long friend, had
+begun to look upon him as a hopeless case.
+
+This antipathy was also to be found in the club. Even with the memory of
+Richard's voice in their ears one of the listeners had shrugged his
+shoulders, remarking with a bitter laugh that musical as was the poem,
+especially as rendered by Richard, it was, after all, like most of Poe's
+other manuscripts, found in a bottle, or more likely "a bottle found in
+a manuscript," as that crazy lunatic couldn't write anything worth
+reading unless he was half drunk. At which St. George had blazed out:
+
+"Hush, Bowdoin! You ought to be willing to be blind drunk half your time
+if you could write one stanza of it! Please let me have it, Richard,"
+and he took the sheet from his friend's hand, that he and Harry might
+read it at their leisure when they reached home.
+
+Harry's blood had also boiled at the rude thrust. While under the spell
+of Richard's voice a cord in his own soul had vibrated as does a glass
+globe when it responds in perfect harmony to a note from a violin. He
+too had a Lenore whose loss had wellnigh broken his heart. This in
+itself was an indissoluble bond between them. Besides, he could
+understand the poet as Alec and his mother and his Uncle George
+understood himself. He had begun now to love the man in his heart.
+
+With his mind filled with these thoughts, his hunger for Kate aroused
+tenfold by the pathos and weird beauty of what he had just heard, he
+left the group of men who were still discussing the man and his verses,
+and joined his uncle outside on the top step of the club's high stoop,
+from which could be seen the full length of the sun-flecked street on
+which the clubhouse stood, as well as the park in all its spring
+loveliness.
+
+Unconsciously his eyes wandered across the path where Kate's house
+stood. He could see the tall chimneys and the slope of the quaint roof,
+and but that the foliage hid the lower part, could have seen Kate's own
+windows. She was still at home, he had heard, although she was expected
+to leave for the Red Sulphur any day.
+
+Suddenly, from away up the street, past the corner of the park, there
+reached his ears a low winding note, which grew louder as it turned the
+corner, followed by the rattle of wheels and the clatter of horses'
+feet. He leaned forward and craned his head in the direction of the
+sound, his heart in his throat, the blood mounting to his cheeks. If
+that was not his father's horn it was wonderfully like it. At the same
+moment a coach-and-four swept in sight, driven by a man in a
+whitey-brown coat and stiff furry hat, with two grooms behind and a
+coachman next to him on the box. It was heading straight for the club.
+
+Every man was on his feet.
+
+"By Jove!--it's Rutter. Bowdoin!--Clayton!--here comes the colonel!"
+
+Again the horn gave out a long withering, wiry note ringing through the
+leaves and along the brick pavement, and the next instant the leaders
+were gathered up, the wheel-horses hauled taut, the hub of the front
+wheel of the coach halting within an inch of the horse-block of the
+club.
+
+"Bravo, Rutter! Best whip in the county! Not a man in England could have
+done it better. Let me help you down!"
+
+The colonel shook his head good-humoredly, rose in his seat, shifted a
+bunch of violets to his inner lapel, slipped off his driving-coat, threw
+it across the rail, dropped his whip in the socket, handed his heavy
+gloves to his groom, and slid gracefully to the sidewalk. There he shook
+hands cordially with the men nearest him, excused himself for a moment
+until he had inspected his off leader's forefoot--she had picked up a
+stone on the way in from Moorlands--patted the nigh wheel-horse, stamped
+his own feet lustily as if to be sure he was all there, and, with a
+lordly bow to those about him, slowly mounted the steps of the club.
+
+Harry had already risen to his feet and stood trembling, one hand
+clutching the iron railing that guarded the marble steps. A great throb
+of joy welled up in his throat. His mother was right--the loneliness had
+overpowered his father; he still loved him, and Miss Clendenning's
+prediction was coming true! Not only was he willing to forgive him, but
+he had come himself to take him home. He could hardly wait until his
+father reached his side, so eager was he to open his arms and hands and
+his lips in apology--and Kate!--what joy would be hers!
+
+St. George had also gained his feet. What had brought the colonel into
+town, he said to himself, and in such state--and at this hour of the
+day, too? Could it be that Harry was the cause?
+
+"How were the roads, Talbot?" he called out in his customary cheery
+tones. He would start fair, anyway.
+
+The colonel, who, head down, had been mounting the marble steps one at a
+time, inspecting each slab as he climbed, after the manner of men
+thoroughly satisfied with themselves, and who at the same time are
+conscious of the effect of their presence on those about them, raised
+his head and gazed in astonishment at the speaker. Then his body
+straightened up and he came to a stand-still. He looked first into St.
+George's face, then into Harry's, with a cold, rigid stare; his lips
+shut tight, his head thrown back, his whole frame stiff as an iron
+bar--and without a word of recognition of any kind, passed through the
+open door and into the wide hall. He had cut both of them dead.
+
+Harry gave a half-smothered cry of anguish and turned to follow his
+father into the club.
+
+St. George, purple with rage, laid his hand on the boy's arm, so tight
+that the fingers sank into the flesh: there were steel clamps inside
+these delicate palms when occasion required.
+
+"Keep still," he hissed--"not a word, no outburst. Stay here until I
+come for you. Stop, Rutter: stand where you are!" The two were abreast
+of each other now. "You dare treat your son in that way? Horn
+--Murdoch--Warfield--all of you come out here! What I've got to say to
+Talbot Rutter I want you to hear, and I intend that not only you but
+every decent man and woman in Kennedy Square shall hear!"
+
+The colonel's lips quivered and his face paled, but he did not flinch,
+nor did his eyes drop.
+
+"You are not a father, Talbot--you are a brute! There is not a dog in
+your kennels that would not treat his litter better than you have
+treated Harry! You turned him out in the night without a penny to his
+name; you break his mother's heart; you refuse to hear a word he has to
+say, and then you have the audacity to pass him on the steps of this
+club where he is my guest--my guest, remember--look him squarely in the
+face and ignore him. That, gentlemen, is what Talbot Rutter did one
+minute ago. You have disgraced your blood and your name and you have
+laid up for your old age untold misery and suffering. Never, as long as
+I live, will I speak to you again, nor shall Harry, whom you have
+humiliated! Hereafter _I_ am his father! Do you hear?"
+
+During the whole outburst the colonel had not moved a muscle of his face
+nor had he shifted his body a quarter of an inch. He stood with his back
+to the door through which could be seen the amazed faces of his
+fellow-members--one hand tight shut behind his back, the other loose by
+his side, his eyes fixed on his antagonist. Then slowly, one word at a
+time, as if he had purposely measured the intervals of speech, he said,
+in a voice hardly heard beyond the door, so low was it:
+
+"Are--you--through--St. George?"
+
+"Yes, by God!--I am, and forever!"
+
+"Then, gentlemen"--and he waved his hand courteously to the astounded
+listeners--"may I ask you all to join me? John, bring the juleps!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+
+
+All the way back to his house St. George's wrath kept him silent. He had
+rarely been so stirred. He was not a brawler--his whole life had been
+one of peace; his whole ambition to be the healer of differences, and
+yet there were some things he could not stand. One of these was cruelty
+to a human being, and Rutter's public disowning of Harry was cruelty of
+the most contemptible kind. But one explanation of such an outrage was
+possible--the man's intolerable egoism, added to his insufferable
+conceit. Only once did Temple address Harry, walking silently by his
+side under the magnolias, and then only to remark, more to himself than
+to his companion--"It's his damned, dirty pride, Harry--that's what it
+is!"
+
+Harry also held his peace. He had no theories regarding his father's
+conduct: only facts confronted him, one being that he had purposely
+humiliated him before the men who had known him from a boy, and with
+whom his future life must be cast. The end had come now. He was adrift
+without a home. Even Kate was lost. This last attack of his father's
+would widen the breach between them, for she would never overlook this
+last stigma when she heard of it, as she certainly must. Nobody would
+then be left on his side except his dear mother, the old house servants,
+and St. George, and of these St. George alone could be of any service to
+him.
+
+It had all been so horrible too, and so undeserved--worse than anything
+he had ever dreamed of; infinitely worse than the night he had been
+driven from Moorlands. Never in all his life had he shown his father
+anything but obedience and respect; furthermore, he had loved and
+admired him; loved his dash and vigor; his superb physique for a man of
+his years--some fifty odd--loved too his sportsmanlike qualities--not a
+man in the county was his equal in the saddle, and not a man in his own
+or any other county could handle the ribbons so well. If his father had
+not agreed with him as to when and where he should teach a vulgarian
+manners, that had been a question about which gentlemen might differ,
+but to have treated him with contempt, to insult him in public, leaving
+him no chance to defend himself--force him, really, into a position
+which made it impossible for him to strike back--was altogether a
+different thing, and for that he would never, never forgive him.
+
+Then a strange thing happened in the boy's mind. It may have been the
+shifting of a grain of gray matter never called into use before; or it
+may have been due to some stranded red corpuscle which, dislodged by the
+pressure he had lately been called upon to endure, had rushed headlong
+through his veins scouring out everything in its way until it reached
+his thinking apparatus. Whatever the cause, certain it was that the
+change in the boy's view of life was as instantaneous as it was radical.
+
+And this was quite possible when his blood is considered. There had
+been, it is true, dominating tyrants way back in his ancestry, as well
+as spend-thrifts, drunkards, roysterers, and gamesters, but so far as
+the records showed there had never been a coward. That old fellow De
+Ruyter, whose portrait hung at Moorlands and who might have been his
+father, so great was the resemblance, had, so to speak, held a shovel in
+one hand and a sword in the other in the days when he helped drown out
+his own and his neighbors' estates to keep the haughty don from gobbling
+up his country. One had but to look into Harry's face to be convinced
+that he too would have followed in his footsteps had he lived in that
+ancestor's time.
+
+It was when the boy, smarting under his father's insult, was passing
+under the blossoms of a wide-spreading magnolia, trying to get a
+glimpse of Kate's face, if by any chance she should be at her window,
+that this grain of gray matter, or lively red corpuscle--or whatever it
+might have been--forced itself through. The breaking away was
+slow--little by little--as an underground tunnel seeks an opening--but
+the light increased with every thought-stroke, its blinding intensity
+becoming so fierce at last that he came to a halt, his eyes on the
+ground, his whole body tense, his mind in a whirl.
+
+Suddenly his brain acted.
+
+To sit down and snivel would do no good; to curse his father would be
+useless and wicked; to force himself on Kate sheer madness.
+But--BUT--BUT--he was twenty-two!--in perfect health and not ashamed to
+look any man in the face. St. George loved him--so did his precious
+mother, and Alec, and a host of others. Should he continue to sit in
+ashes, swaddled in sackcloth--or should he meet the situation like a
+man? Then as his mental vision became accustomed to the glare, two
+things stood out clear in his mind--to win Kate back, no matter at what
+cost--and to compel his father's respect.
+
+
+His mother was the first to hear the music of this new note of resolve,
+and she had not long to wait. She had come to town with the
+colonel--indeed it was at her request that he had ordered the coach
+instead of coming in on horseback, as was his custom--and was at the
+moment quietly resting on St. George's big sofa.
+
+"It is all over, mother," Harry cried in a voice so firm and determined
+that his mother knew at once something unusual had happened--"and you
+might as well make up your mind to it--I have. Father walked into the
+club five minutes ago, looked me square in the face, and cut me dead;
+and he insulted Uncle George too, who gave him the greatest dressing
+down you ever heard in your life." He had learned another side of his
+uncle's character--one he should never cease to be grateful for--his
+outspoken defence of him before his equals.
+
+Mrs. Rutter half rose from her seat in blank astonishment. She was a
+frail little woman with pale-blue eyes and a figure like a curl of
+smoke.
+
+"Your--father--did not--speak--to--you!" she exclaimed excitedly. "You
+say--your father--But how dare he!"
+
+"But he did!" replied Harry in a voice that showed the incident still
+rankled in his mind--"and right in the club, before everybody."
+
+"And the other gentlemen saw it?" She stood erect, her delicate body
+tightening up. There was a strain of some old-time warrior in her blood
+that would brook no insult to her son.
+
+"Yes, half a dozen gentlemen saw it. He did it purposely--so they COULD
+see. I'll never forgive him for it as long as I live. He had no business
+to treat me so!" His voice choked as he spoke, but there was no note of
+surrender or of fear.
+
+She looked at him in a helpless sort of way. "But you didn't answer
+back, did you, my son?" This came in a tone as if she feared to hear the
+details, knowing the boy's temperament, and his father's.
+
+"I didn't say a word; Uncle George wouldn't let me. I'm glad now he
+stopped me, for I was pretty mad, and I might have said something I
+would have been sorry for." The mother gave a sigh of relief, but she
+did not interrupt, nor did she relax the tautness of her body. "You
+ought to have heard Uncle George, though!" Harry rushed on. "He told him
+there was not a dog at Moorlands who would not have treated his puppy
+better than he had me--and another thing he told him--and that was that
+after to-day I was HIS son forever!"
+
+St. George had been standing at the front window with his back to them,
+looking out upon the blossoms. At this last outburst he turned, and said
+over his shoulder:
+
+"Yes--that's true, Annie--that's what I said and what I mean. There is
+no use wasting any more time over Talbot, and I don't intend to."
+
+"But Mr. Rutter will get over his temper." (She never called him by any
+other name.)
+
+"Then he will have to come here and say so. I shall never step foot in
+his house until he does, nor will Harry. As to his forgiving Harry--the
+boot is on the other leg; it is Talbot, not the boy he outraged, who
+must straighten out to-day's work. There was not a man who heard him who
+was not ashamed of him. Oh!--I have no patience with this sort of thing!
+The only son he's got--his only child! Abominable--unforgivable! And it
+will haunt him to his dying day! Poor as I am, alone in the world and
+without a member of my family above ground, I would not change places
+with him. No--Annie--I know how you feel, and God knows I have felt for
+you all these years, but I tell you the end has come! It's
+finished--over--I told him so to his face, and I mean it!"
+
+The slight body sank back into her chair and her eyes filled with tears.
+Harry knelt beside her and put his arms about her. This mother, frail as
+she was, had always been his refuge and comfort: now he must do the
+comforting! (Keep moving, old red corpuscle, there is a lot of work
+ahead of you!)
+
+"Don't worry, you dear little mother," he said tenderly. "I don't know
+how it's coming out, but it will come out somehow. Let father go: Kate
+is the only thing that counts now. I don't blame her for anything she
+has done, and I don't blame myself either. All I know is that everything
+has gone wrong. But, wrong or right, I'm going to stay here just as long
+as Uncle George will let me. He's been more of a father to me than my
+own. It's you I can't get along without, you precious little mother,"
+and he patted her pale cheeks. "Won't you come in every day--and bring
+Alec too?" then, as if he had not yet asked her consent--"You don't mind
+my being here, do you?"
+
+She drew his head close to her lips and kissed his cheek. "No, my son, I
+don't mind--I'm glad. Every night of my life I thank my Maker that you
+are here." She raised her eyes to St. George, who stood looking down
+upon them both, and in a voice barely audible, an unbidden sob choking
+her utterance, faltered--"It's only one more proof of your goodness,
+St. George."
+
+He raised his hand in protest and a faint smile crossed his face. "Don't
+talk that way. Annie."
+
+"I will--it's true. It is a proof of your goodness. I have never
+deserved it. I don't now--but you never fail me." Her voice was clearer
+now--her cheeks, too, had regained some of their color. Harry listened
+wonderingly, his arm still around her.
+
+"I couldn't do anything else, Annie--nobody could under the
+circumstances." His voice had dropped almost to a whisper.
+
+"But it was for me you did it, St. George. I would rather think of it
+that way; it makes it easier. Say you did it for me."
+
+St. George stooped down, raised her thin white hand to his lips, kissed
+it reverently, and without a word of any kind walked to the door of his
+bedroom and shut it behind him.
+
+Mrs. Rutter's hand dropped to her lap and a smile of intense relief
+passed over her face. She neither looked after St. George, nor did she
+offer any explanation to Harry; she merely bent forward and continued
+her caresses, stroking the boy's glossy hair, patting the white temples
+with her delicate fingers, smoothing the small, well-set ears and the
+full brown throat, kissing his forehead, her eyes reading his face,
+wondering if she had spoken too freely and yet regretting nothing: what
+she had said had come straight from her heart and she was not ashamed of
+it.
+
+The boy lay still, his head against her breast. That his mother had been
+stirred even in a greater degree over what St. George had said to her
+than she had been by his father's treatment of him was evident in the
+trembling movement of the soft hands caressing his hair and in the way
+her breath came and went. Under her soothing touch his thoughts went
+back to the events of the morning:--his uncle's defiant tones as he
+denounced his father; his soft answer to his mother; her pleading words
+in reply, and then the reverent kiss.
+
+Suddenly, clear as the tones of a far-off convent bell sifting down from
+some cloud-swept crag, there stole into his mind a memory of his
+childhood--a legend of long ago, vague and intangible--one he could not
+put into words--one Alec had once hinted at. He held his breath trying
+to gather up the loose ends--to make a connected whole; to fit the parts
+together. Then, as one blows out a candle, leaving total darkness, he
+banished it all from his mind.
+
+"Mother dear!--mother dear!" he cried tenderly, and wound his arms the
+closer about her neck.
+
+She gathered him up as she had done in the old days when he was a child
+at her breast; all the intervening years seemed blotted out. He was her
+baby boy once more--her constant companion and unending comfort: the one
+and only thing in her whole life that understood her.
+
+Soon the warmth and strength of the full man began to reach her heart.
+She drew him still closer, this strong son who loved her, and in the
+embrace there grew a new and strange tenderness--one born of confidence.
+It was this arm which must defend her now; this head and heart which
+must guide her. She was no longer adrift.
+
+The two had not moved when St. George re-entered the room some moments
+later. Harry's head still lay on her breast, the thin, transparent hands
+tight about his neck.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+
+
+The colonel's treatment of Harry at the club had cleared the air of any
+doubt that either the boy or St. George might have had concerning
+Rutter's frame of mind. Henceforth the boy and the man would conduct
+their lives as if the Lord of Moorlands did not exist.
+
+So the boy unpacked the things which Alec had brought in, and with his
+mother's assistance--who came in once a week--hung up his
+hunting-clothes in the closet, racked up his guns and fishing-rods over
+the mantel, and suspended his favorite saddle by a stirrup on a hook in
+the hall. Then the two had set out his books and miniatures; one of his
+mother, which he kissed tenderly, with the remark that it wasn't half as
+pretty as the original, and then propped up in the place of honor in the
+middle of his desk, and another of his father, which he placed on an
+adjoining table--as well as his few belongings and knickknacks. And so
+the outcast settled down determined not only to adapt himself to the
+comforts--or want of them--to be found under St. George's roof, but to
+do it cheerfully, gratefully, and like a man and a gentleman.
+
+To none of all this did his father offer a single objection. "Make a
+clean sweep of Mr. Harry Rutter's things," he had said to Alec, "so that
+I may be relieved from the annoyance of a second delivery."
+
+Alec had repeated the order to Harry word for word, adding: "Don't you
+sass back, Marse Harry--let him blow hisse'f out--he don't mean nothin'.
+He's dat mad he's crazy--gits dat way sometimes--den purty soon he's fit
+to bust hisse'f wide open a-cryin'! I see him do dat once when you
+warn't mo'n so high, and de doctor said you was daid fo' sho'."
+
+Harry made no reply, but it did not ruffle his temper. His duty was no
+longer to be found at Moorlands; his Uncle George claimed him. All his
+hours would now be devoted to showing him how grateful he was for his
+protection and guidance. Time enough for his father, and time enough for
+Kate, for that matter, should the clouds ever lift--as lift they
+would--but his Uncle George first, last, and all the time.
+
+And St. George appreciated it to the full. Never had he been so happy.
+Even the men at the club saw the change, and declared he looked ten
+years younger--fifteen really, when Harry was with him, which was
+almost always the case--for out of consideration for St. George and the
+peculiar circumstances surrounding the boy's condition, his birth and
+station, and the pride they took in his pluck, the committee had at last
+stretched the rule and had sent Mr. Henry Gilmor Rutter of
+Moorlands--with special reference to "Moorlands," a perennial invitation
+entitling him to the club's privileges--a card which never expired
+because it was systematically renewed.
+
+And it was not only at the club that the two men were inseparable. In
+their morning walks, the four dogs in full cry; at the races; in the
+hunts, when some one loaned both Harry and his uncle a mount--at night,
+when Todd passed silently out, leaving all the bottled comforts behind
+him--followed by--"Ah, Harry!--and you won't join me? That's right, my
+son--and I won't ask you," the two passed almost every hour of the day
+and night together. It was host one minute and father the next.
+
+And this life, if the truth be told, did not greatly vary from the one
+the boy had always led, except that there was more of town and less of
+country in it than he had heretofore been accustomed to. The freedom
+from all care--for the colonel had trained Harry to neither business nor
+profession--was the same, and so was the right to employ his time as he
+pleased. At Moorlands he was busy over his horses and dogs, his sporting
+outfits, riding to hounds, cock-fights--common in those days--and, of
+course, assisting his father and mother in dispensing the hospitality of
+the house. In Kennedy Square St. George was his chief occupation, and of
+the two he liked the last the best. What he had hungered for all his
+life was sympathy and companionship, and this his father had never given
+him; nor had he known what it was since his college days. Advice, money,
+horses, clothes, guns--anything and everything which might, could, or
+would redound to the glory of the Rutters had been his for the asking,
+but the touch of a warm hand, the thrill in the voice when he had done
+something to please and had waited for an acknowledgment--that had never
+come his way. Nothing of this kind was needed between men, his father
+would say to Harry's mother--and his son was a man now. Had their child
+been a daughter, it would have been quite another thing, but a son was
+to be handled differently--especially an only son who was sole heir to
+one's entire estate.
+
+And yet it must not be thought that the outcast spent his time in sheer
+idleness. St. George would often find him tucked away in one of his big
+chairs devouring some book he had culled from the old general's library
+in the basement--a room adjoining the one occupied by a firm of young
+lawyers--Pawson & Pawson (only one brother was alive)--with an entrance
+on the side street, it being of "no use to me" St. George had said--"and
+the rent will come in handy." Tales of the sea especially delighted the
+young fellow--the old admiral's blood being again in evidence--and so
+might have been the mother's fine imagination. It was Defoe and Mungo
+Park and Cooke who enchained the boy's attention, as well as many of the
+chronicles of the later navigators. But of the current literature of the
+day--Longfellow, Margaret Fuller, Hawthorne, and Emerson--no one
+appealed to him as did the man Poe. He and St. George had passed many an
+hour discussing him. Somehow the bond of sympathy between himself and
+the poet had become the stronger. Both had wept bitter tears over the
+calamities that had followed an unrequited love.
+
+It was during one of these talks--and the poet was often under
+discussion--that St. George had suddenly risen from his chair, lighted a
+candle, and had betaken himself to the basement--a place he seldom
+visited--from which he brought back a thin, crudely bound, and badly
+printed, dust-covered volume bearing the title "Tamerlane:--by a
+Bostonian." This, with a smile he handed to Harry. Some friend had given
+him the little book when it was first published and he had forgotten it
+was in the house until he noted Harry's interest in the author. Then
+again, he wanted to see whether it was the boy's literary taste, never
+much in evidence, or his romantic conception of the much-talked-of poet,
+which had prompted his intense interest in the man.
+
+"Read these poems, Harry, and tell me who wrote them," said St. George,
+dusting the book with a thrash of his handkerchief and tossing it to the
+young fellow.
+
+The boy caught it, skimmed through the thin volume, lingered over one or
+two pages, absorbing each line, and replied in a decided and delighted
+voice: "The same man who wrote 'The Raven,' of course--there can't be
+any doubt of it. I can hear Mr. Horn's voice in every line. Why didn't
+you let me have it before?"
+
+"Are you sure?" asked St. George, watching him closely.
+
+"Am I sure?--of course I am! Listen to this:
+
+"'We grew in age--and--love--together, Roaming the forest and the
+wild--'
+
+"That's Kate and me, Uncle George," and he smiled sadly. "And then this
+line:
+
+"'I saw no heaven but in her eyes.'
+
+"And then these lines in 'The Raven'--wait--I will read them." He had the
+sheet of paper in his pocket which Richard Horn had read from at the
+club, and knew the poem now by heart:
+
+"'Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn, It
+shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels call Lenore'--
+
+"That's me again. I wish I could read it like Mr. Horn. What a voice--so
+deep--so musical--like a great organ, or, rather, like one of the big
+strings on his violin."
+
+"And what a mind, too, Harry," rejoined St. George. "Richard is a long
+way ahead of his time. His head is full of things that few around here
+understand. They hear him play the violin or read, and some go away
+calling him a genius, but when he talks to them about the way the
+railroads are opening up, and the new telegraph this man Morse is at
+work on, and what is going to come of it--or hear him discuss the
+development of the country along scientific lines, they shrug their
+shoulders and tap their foreheads. You want to talk to him every chance
+you get. That is one reason I am glad they let you permanently into the
+club, for he is too busy in his work-shop at home to speak to anybody.
+Nobody will do you so much good--and he likes you, Harry. He said to me
+only the other night when I was dining with him--the night you were at
+Mrs. Cheston's--that he felt sorry for you; that it was not your fault,
+or the fault of your father--but that you both had been caught in the
+ebb-tide of a period."
+
+Harry laughed: "What did he mean by that?"
+
+"I'll be hanged if I know. You made so good a guess on the Tamerlane,
+that it's just occurred to me to try you on this," and St. George
+laughed heartily. (St. George was adrift on the ebb-tide himself did he
+but know it.)
+
+Harry thought earnestly for a moment, pondering upon what the inventor
+could have had in his mind. It couldn't have been politics that Mr. Horn
+meant; nor failure of the crops; nor the way the slaves were treated.
+None of these things affected him. Indeed none of them did he know
+anything of. Nor was he an expert on duelling. It must have been Kate.
+Yes--of course--it was Kate and her treatment of him. The "tide" was
+what had swept them apart.
+
+"Oh, I know," he cried in an animated tone. "He meant Kate. Tell
+me--what did he say about her?" He had searched his books for some
+parallel from which to draw a conclusion, but none of them had given him
+any relief. May be Mr. Horn had solved the problem.
+
+"He said she was the first of the flood, though he was mighty sorry for
+you both; and he said, too, that, as she was the first to strike out for
+the shore, Kennedy Square ought to build a triumphal arch for her," and
+St. George looked quizzically at Harry.
+
+"Well, do you think there is any common sense in that?" blurted out the
+boy, twisting himself in his chair so he could get a better look at his
+uncle's face.
+
+"No--it doesn't sound like it, but it may be profound wisdom all the
+same, if you can only see it from Richard's point of view. Try it.
+There's a heap of brains under his cranium."
+
+Harry fell to tapping the arm of his chair. Queer reasoning this of Mr.
+Horn's, he said to himself. He had always thought that he and his father
+were on the tip-top of any kind of tide, flood or ebb--and as for Kate,
+she was the white gull that skimmed its crest!
+
+Again Harry dropped into deep thought, shifting his legs now and then in
+his restless, impatient way. If there was any comfort to be gotten out
+of this new doctrine he wanted to probe it to the bottom.
+
+"And what does he say of Mr. Poe? Does he think he's a drunken lunatic,
+like some of the men at the club?"
+
+"No, he thinks he is one of the greatest literary geniuses the country
+has yet produced. He has said so for years--ever since he began to
+write. Willis first became acquainted with Mr. Poe through a letter
+Richard gave him, and now that the papers are full of him, and everybody
+is talking about him, these backbiters like Bowdoin want to get into
+line and say they always thought so. But Richard has never wavered. Of
+course Poe loses his balance and topples backward once in a while--but
+he's getting over it. That is his mistake and it is unfortunate, but it
+isn't a crime. I can forgive him anything he does so he keeps to his
+ideals. If he had had a better bringing up and knew the difference
+between good rain-water Madeira and bad pump water and worse whiskey he
+would keep as straight as a church deacon. Too bad he doesn't."
+
+"Well," Harry answered at last, rising from his chair and brushing the
+ashes of his pipe from his clothes--"I don't know anything about Mr.
+Horn's tides, but he's right about Mr. Poe--that is, I hope he is. We've
+both, got a 'Lost Lenore,'" and his voice quivered. All Harry's roads
+ended at Kate's door.
+
+And so with these and other talks, heart-burnings, outings, sports, and
+long tramps in the country, the dogs scampering ahead, the summer days
+slipped by.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+
+
+Such were the soft, balmy conditions in and around the Temple
+Mansion--conditions bringing only peace and comfort--(heart-aches were
+kept in check)--when one August morning there came so decided a change
+of weather that everybody began at once to get in out of the wet. The
+storm had been brewing for some days up Moorlands way, where all Harry's
+storms started, but up to the present moment there had been no
+indications in and about Kennedy Square of its near approach, or even of
+its existence.
+
+It was quite early in the day when the big drops began to patter down on
+Todd's highly polished knocker. Breakfast had been served and the mail
+but half opened--containing among other missives a letter from Poe
+acknowledging one from St. George, in which he wrote that he might soon
+be in Kennedy Square on his way to Richmond--a piece of news which
+greatly delighted Harry--and another from Tom Coston, inviting them both
+to Wesley for the fall shooting, with a postscript to the effect that
+Willits was "still at the Red Sulphur with the Seymours"--(a piece of
+news which greatly depressed him)--when Todd answered a thunderous
+rat-a-tat and immediately thereafter recrossed the hall and opened the
+dining-room door just wide enough to thrust in first his scared
+face--then his head--shoulder--arm--and last his hand, on the palm of
+which lay a small, greasy card bearing the inscription:
+
+John Gadgem, Agent.
+
+The darky, evidently, was not in a normal condition, for after a
+moment's nervous hesitation, his eyes over his shoulder as if fearing he
+was being followed, he squeezed in the rest of his body, closed the door
+softly behind him, and said in a hoarse whisper to the room at large:
+
+"Dat's de same man been here three times yisterday. He asked fust fer
+Marse Harry, an' when I done tol' him he warn't home--you was 'sleep
+upstairs, Marse Harry, but I warn't gwineter 'sturb ye--he say he come
+back dis mawnin'."
+
+"Well, but what does he want?" asked Harry, dropping a lump of sugar in
+his cup. He had been accumstomed to be annoyed by agents of all kinds
+who wanted to sell him one thing or another--and so he never allowed any
+one to get at him unless his business was stated beforehand. He had
+learned this from his father.
+
+"I dun'no, sah."
+
+"What does he look like, Todd?" cried St. George, breaking the seal of
+another letter.
+
+"Wall, he ain't no gemman--he's jus' a pusson I reckon. I done tol' him
+you warn't out o' bed yit, but he said he'd wait. I got him shet
+outside, but I can't fool him no mo'. What'll I do now?"
+
+"Well, what do you think he wants, then?" Harry burst out impatiently.
+
+"Well," said Todd--"ef I was to tell ye God's truf', I reckon he wants
+money. He says he's been to de big house--way out to de colonel's, and
+dey th'owed him out--and now he's gwineter sit down yere till somebody
+listens to him. It won't do to fool wid him, Marse Harry--I see dat de
+fus' time he come. He's a he-one--and he's got horns on him for sho'.
+What'll I do?"
+
+Both Harry and St. George roared.
+
+"Why bring him in, of course--a 'pusson' with horns on him will be worth
+seeing."
+
+A shabby, wizened-faced man; bent-in-the-back, gimlet-eyed, wearing a
+musty brown coat, soiled black stock, unspeakable linen, and skin-tight
+trousers held to his rusty shoes by wide straps--showing not only the
+knuckles of his knees but the streaked thinness of his upper
+shanks--(Cruikshank could have drawn him to the life)--sidled into the
+room, mopping his head with a red cotton handkerchief which he took from
+his hat.
+
+"My name is GADgem, gentleman--Mr. John GADgem of GADgem & Combes.
+
+"I am looking for Mr. Harry Rutter, whom I am informed--I would not say
+POSitively--but I am inFORMED is stopping with you, Mr. Temple. You
+forget me, Mr. Temple, but I do not forget you, sir. That little
+foreclosure matter of Bucks vs. Temple--you remember when--"
+
+"Sit down," said St. George curtly, laying down his knife and fork.
+"Todd, hand Mr. Gadgem a chair."
+
+The gimlet-eyed man--and it was very active--waved his hand
+deprecatingly.
+
+"No, I don't think that is necessary. I can stand. I preFER to stand. I
+am acCUStomed to stand--I have been standing outside this gentleman's
+father's door now, off and on, for some weeks, and--"
+
+"Will you tell me what you want?" interrupted Harry, curtly. References
+to Moorlands invariably roused his ire.
+
+"I am coming to that, sir, slowly, but surely. Now that I have found
+somebody that will listen to me--that is, if you are Mr. Harry
+Rutter--" The deferential air with which he said this was admirable.
+
+"Oh, yes--I'm the man," answered Harry in a resigned voice.
+
+"Yes, sir--so I supposed. And now I look at you, sir"--here the gimlet
+was in full twist--"I would make an affidavit to that effect before any
+notary." He began loosening his coat with his skinny fingers, fumbling
+in his inside pocket, thrusting deep his hand, as if searching for an
+elusive insect in the vicinity of his arm-pit, his talk continuing:
+"Yes, sir, before any notary, you are so exactly like your father. Not
+that I've seen your father, sir, VERY MANY TIMES"--the elusive had
+evidently escaped, for his hand went deeper. "I've only seen him
+once--ONCE--and it was enough. It was not a pleasant visit, sir--in
+fact, it was a most UNpleasant visit. I came very near having cause for
+action--for assault, really. A very polite colored man was all that
+prevented it, and--Ah--here it is!" He had the minute pest now. "Permit
+me to separate the list from the exhibits."
+
+At this Gadgem's hand, clutching a bundle of papers, came out with a
+jerk--so much of a jerk that St. George, who was about to end the comedy
+by ordering the man from the room, stopped short in his protest, his
+curiosity getting the better of him to know what the fellow had found.
+
+"There, sir." Here he drew a long slip from the package, held it between
+his thumb and forefinger, and was about to continue, when St. George
+burst out with:
+
+"Look here, Gadgem--if you have any business with Mr. Rutter you will
+please state it at once. We have hardly finished breakfast."
+
+"I beg, sir, that you will not lose your temper. It is unBUSinesslike to
+lose one's temper. Gadgem & Combes, sir, NEVER lose their temper. They
+are men of peace, sir--ALways men of peace. Mr. Combes sometimes resorts
+to extreme measures, but NEVER Mr. Gadgem. _I_ am Mr. Gadgem, sir," and
+he tapped his soiled shirt-front with his soiled finger-nail. "PEACE is
+my watchword, that is why this matter has been placed in my hands.
+Permit me, sir, to ask you to cast your eye over this."
+
+Harry, who was getting interested, scanned the long slip and handed it
+to St. George, who studied it for a moment and returned it to Harry.
+
+"You will note, I beg of you, sir, the first item." There was a tone of
+triumph now in Gadgem's voice. "One saddle horse sixteen hands high,
+bought of Hampson & Co. on the"--then he craned his neck so as to see
+the list over Harry's shoulder--"yes--on the SECOND of LAST September.
+Rather overdue, is it not, sir, if I may be permitted to remark?" This
+came with a lift of the eyebrows, as if Harry's oversight had been too
+naughty for words.
+
+"But what the devil have I got to do with this?" The boy was thoroughly
+angry now. The lift of Gadgem's eyebrows did it.
+
+"You rode the horse, sir." This came with a certain air of "Oh! I have
+you now."
+
+"Yes, and he broke his leg and had to be shot," burst out Harry in a
+tone that showed how worthless had been the bargain.
+
+"EXactly, sir. So your father told me, sir. You don't remember having
+PAID Mr. Hampson for him beFORE he broke his leg, do you, sir?" He had
+him pinned fast now--all he had to do was to watch his victim's
+struggles.
+
+"Me? No, of course not!" Harry exploded.
+
+"EXactly so, sir--so your father told me. FORcibly, sir--and as if he
+was quite sure of it."
+
+Again he looked over Harry's shoulder, following the list with his
+skinny finger. At the same time he lowered his voice--became even
+humble. "Ah, there it is--the English racing saddle and the pair of
+blankets, and the--might I ask you, sir, whether you have among your
+papers any receipt for--?"
+
+"But I don't pay these bills--I never pay any bills." Harry's tone had
+now reached a higher pitch.
+
+"EXactly so, sir--just what your father said, sir, and with such
+vehemence that I moved toward the door." Out went the finger again, the
+insinuating voice keeping up. "And then the five hundred dollars from
+Mr. Slater--you see, sir, we had all these accounts placed in our hands
+with the expectation that your father would liquidate at one fell
+swoop--these were Mr. Combes's very words, sir: 'ONE FELL SWOOP.'" This
+came with an inward rake of his hand, his fingers grasping an imaginary
+sickle, Harry's accumulated debts being so many weeds in his way.
+
+"And didn't he? He always has," demanded the culprit.
+
+"EXactly so, sir--exactly what your father said."
+
+"Exactly what?"
+
+"That he had heretofore always paid them."
+
+"Well, then, take them to him!" roared Harry, breaking loose again. "I
+haven't got anything to do with them, and won't."
+
+"Your father's PREcise words, sir," purred Gadgem. "And by the time he
+had uttered them, sir, I was out of the room. It was here, sir, that the
+very polite colored man, Alec by name, so I am informed, and of whom I
+made mention a few moments ago, became of inVALuable assistance--of very
+GREAT assistance, sir."
+
+"You mean to tell me that you have seen my father--handed him these
+bills, and that he has refused to pay them?" Harry roared on.
+
+"I DO, sir." Gadgem had straightened his withered body now and was
+boring into Harry's eyes with all his might.
+
+"Will you tell me just what he said?" The boy was still roaring, but the
+indignant tone was missing.
+
+"He said--you will not be offended, sir--you mean, of course, sir, that
+you would like me to state exACTly what your father said, proceeding as
+if I was under oath." It is indescribable how soft and mellifluous his
+voice had now become.
+
+Harry nodded.
+
+"He said, sir, that he'd be DAMNED if he'd pay another cent for a
+hot-headed fool who had disgraced his family. He said, sir, that you
+were of AGE--and were of age when you contracted these bills. He said,
+sir, that he had already sent you these accounts two days after he had
+ordered you from his house. And FInally, sir--I say, finally, sir,
+because it appeared to me at the time to be conclusive--he said, sir,
+that he would set the dogs on me if I ever crossed his lot again. HENCE,
+sir, my appearing three times at your door yesterday. HENCE, sir, my
+breaking in upon you at this unseemly hour in the morning. I am
+particular myself, sir, about having my morning meal disturbed; cold
+coffee is never agreeable, gentlemen--but in this case you must admit
+that my intrusion is pardonable."
+
+The boy understood now.
+
+"Come to think of it I have a bundle of papers upstairs tied with a red
+string which came with my boxes from Moorlands. I threw them in the
+drawer without opening them." This last remark was addressed to St.
+George, who had listened at first with a broad smile on his face, which
+had deepened to one of intense seriousness as the interview continued,
+and which had now changed to one of ill-concealed rage.
+
+"Mr. Gadgem," gritted St. George between his teeth--he had risen from
+the table during the colloquy and was standing with his back to the
+mantel, the blood up to the roots of his hair.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Lay the packages of bills with the memoranda on my desk, and I will
+look them over during the day."
+
+"But, Mr. Temple," and his lip curled contemptuously--he had had that
+same trick played on him by dozens of men.
+
+"Not another word, Mr. Gadgem. I said--I--would
+look--them--over--during--the--day. You've had some dealings with me and
+know exactly what kind of a man I am. When I want you I will send for
+you. If I don't send for you, come here to-morrow morning at ten o'clock
+and Mr. Rutter will give you his answer. Todd, show Mr. Gadgem out."
+
+"But, Mr. Temple--you forGET that my duty is to--"
+
+"I forget nothing. Todd, show Mr. Gadgem out."
+
+With the closing of the door behind the agent, St. George turned to
+Harry. His eyes were snapping fire and his big frame tense with anger.
+This phase of the affair had not occurred to him--nothing in which money
+formed an important part ever did occur to him.
+
+"A cowardly piece of business, Harry, and on a par with everything he
+has done since you left his house. Talbot must be crazy to act as he
+does. He can't break you down in any other way, so he insults you before
+his friends and now throws these in your face"--and he pointed to the
+package of bills where Gadgem had laid it--"a most extraordinary
+proceeding. Please hand me that list. Thank you. ... Now this third item
+... this five hundred dollars--did you get that money?"
+
+"Yes--and another hundred the next day, which isn't down," rejoined the
+young man, running his eye over the list.
+
+"Borrowed it?"
+
+"Yes, of course--for Gilbert. He got into a card scrape at the tavern
+and I helped him out. I told my father all about it and he said I had
+done just right; that I must always help a friend out in a case like
+that, and that he'd pay it. All he objected to was my borrowing it of a
+tradesman instead of my coming to him." It was an age of borrowing and a
+bootmaker was often better than a banker.
+
+"Well--but why didn't you go to him?" He wanted to get at all the facts.
+
+"There wasn't time. Gilbert had to have the money in an hour, and it was
+the only place where I could get it."
+
+"Of course there wasn't time--never is when the stakes are running like
+that." St. George folded up the memorandum. He knew something of
+Talbot's iron will, but he never supposed that he would lose his sense
+of what was right and wrong in exercising it. Again he opened the
+list--rather hurriedly this time, as if some new phase had struck
+him--studied it for a moment, and then asked with an increased interest
+in his tones:
+
+"Did Gilbert give you back the money you loaned him?"
+
+"Yes--certainly; about a month afterward." Here at least was an asset.
+
+St. George's face lighted up. "And what did you do with it?"
+
+"Took it to my father and he told me to use it; that he would settle
+with Mr. Slater when he paid his account;--when, too, he would thank him
+for helping me out."
+
+"And when he didn't pay it back and these buzzards learned you had quit
+your father's house they employed Gadgem to pick your bones."
+
+"Yes--it seems so; but, Uncle George, it's due them!" exclaimed
+Harry--"they ought to have their money. I would never have taken a
+dollar--or bought a thing if I had not supposed my father would pay for
+them." There was no question as to the boy's sense of justice--every
+intonation showed it.
+
+"Of course it's due--due by you, too--not your father; that's the worst
+of it. And if he refuses to assume it--and he has--it is still to be
+paid--every cent of it. The question is how the devil is it to be
+paid--and paid quickly. I can't have you pointed out as a spendthrift
+and a dodger. No, this has got to be settled at once."
+
+He threw himself into a chair, his mind absorbed in the effort to find
+some way out of the difficulty. The state of his own bank account
+precluded all relief in that direction. To borrow a dollar from the
+Patapsco on any note of hand he could offer was out of the question, the
+money stringency having become still more acute. Yet help must be had,
+and at once. Again he unfolded the slip and ran his eyes over the items,
+his mind in deep thought, then he added in an anxious tone:
+
+"Are you aware, Harry, that this list amounts to several thousand
+dollars?"
+
+"Yes--I saw it did. I had no idea it was so much. I never thought
+anything about it in fact. My father always paid--paid for anything I
+wanted." Neither did the young fellow ever concern himself about the
+supply of water in the old well at Moorlands. His experience had been
+altogether with the bucket and the gourd: all he had had to do was to
+dip in.
+
+Again St. George ruminated. It had been many years since he had been so
+disturbed about any matter involving money.
+
+"And have you any money left, Harry?"
+
+"Not much. What I have is in my drawer upstairs."
+
+"Then I'll lend you the money." This came with a certain
+spontaneity--quite as if he had said to a companion who had lost his
+umbrella--"Take mine!"
+
+"But have you got it, Uncle George?" asked Harry in an anxious tone.
+
+"No--not that I know of," he replied simply, but with no weakening of
+his determination to see the boy through, no matter at what cost.
+
+"Well--then--how will you lend it?" laughed Harry. Money crises had not
+formed part of his troubles.
+
+"Egad, my boy, I don't know!--but somehow."
+
+He rang the bell and Todd put in his head. "Todd, go around
+outside,--see if young Mr. Pawson is in his office below us, present my
+compliments and say that it will give me great pleasure to call upon him
+regarding a matter of business."
+
+"Yes, sah--"
+
+"--And, Todd--say also that if agreeable to him, I will be there in ten
+minutes."
+
+
+Punctually at ten o'clock on the following morning the shrivelled body
+and anxious face of the agent was ushered by Todd into St. George's
+presence--Dandy close behind sniffing at his thin knees, convinced that
+he was a suspicious person. This hour had been fixed by Temple in case
+he was not sent for earlier, and as no messenger had so far reached the
+bill collector he was naturally in doubt as to the nature of his
+reception. He had the same hat in his hand and the same handkerchief--a
+weekly, or probably a monthly comfort--its dingy red color defrauding
+the laundry.
+
+"I have waited, sir," Gadgem began in an unctuous tone, his eyes on the
+dog, who had now resumed his place on the hearth rug--"waited
+IMpatiently, relying upon the word and honor of--"
+
+"There--that will do, Gadgem," laughed St. George good-naturedly.
+Somehow he seemed more than usually happy this morning--bubbling over,
+indeed, ever since Todd had brought him a message from the young lawyer
+in the basement but half an hour before. "Keep that sort of talk for
+those who like it. No, Todd, you needn't bring Mr. Gadgem a chair, for
+he won't be here long enough to enjoy it. Now listen," and he took the
+memorandum from his pocket. "These bills are correct. Mr. Rutter has had
+the money and the goods. Take this list which I have signed to my
+attorney in the office underneath and be prepared to give a receipt in
+full for each account at twelve o'clock to-morrow. I have arranged to
+have them paid in full. Good-morning."
+
+Gadgem stared. He did not believe a word about finding the money
+downstairs. He was accustomed to being put off that way and had already
+formulated his next tactical move. In fact he was about to name it with
+some positiveness, recounting the sort of papers which would follow and
+the celerity of their serving, when he suddenly became aware that St.
+George's eyes were fixed upon him and instantly stopped breathing.
+
+"I said good-morning, Mr. Gadgem," repeated St. George sententiously.
+There was no mistaking his meaning.
+
+"I heard you, sir," hesitated the collector--"_I_ heard you diSTINCTly,
+but in cases of this kind there is--"
+
+St. George swung back the door and stood waiting. No man living or dead
+had ever doubted the word of St. George Wilmot Temple, not even by a
+tone of the voice, and Gadgem's was certainly suggestive of a
+well-defined and most offensive doubt. Todd moved up closer; Dandy rose
+to his feet, thinking he might be of use. The little man looked from one
+to the other. He might add an action for assault and battery to the
+claim, but that would delay its collection.
+
+"Then at TWELVE o'clock, to-morrow, Mr. Temple," he purred blandly.
+
+"At twelve o'clock!" repeated St. George coldly, wondering which end of
+the intruder he would grapple when he threw him through the front door
+and down the front steps.
+
+"I will be here on the stroke of the clock, sir--on the STROKE," and
+Gadgem slunk out.
+
+For some minutes St. George continued to walk up and down the room,
+stooping once in a while to caress the setter; dry-washing his hands;
+tapping his well-cut waistcoat with his shapely fingers, his thumbs in
+the arm-holes; halting now and then to stretch himself to the full
+height of his body. He had outwitted the colonel--taught him a
+lesson--let him see that he was not the only "hound in the pack," and,
+best of all, he had saved the boy from annoyance and possibly from
+disgrace.
+
+He was still striding up and down the room, when Harry, who had
+overslept himself as usual, came down to breakfast. Had some friend of
+his uncle found a gold mine in the back yard--or, better still, had Todd
+just discovered a forgotten row of old "Brahmin Madeira" in some dark
+corner of his cellar--St. George could not have been more buoyant.
+
+"Glad you didn't get up any earlier, you good-for-nothing sleepy-head!"
+he cried in welcoming, joyous tones. "You have just missed that
+ill-smelling buzzard."
+
+"What buzzard?" asked Harry, glancing over the letters on the mantel in
+the forlorn hope of finding one from Kate.
+
+"Why, Gadgem--and that is the last you will ever see of him."
+
+"Why?--has father paid him?" he asked in a listless way, squeezing
+Dandy's nose thrust affectionately into his hand--his mind still on
+Kate. Now that Willits was with her, as every one said, she would never
+write him again. He was a fool to expect it, he thought, and he sighed
+heavily.
+
+"Of course he hasn't paid him--but I have. That is, a friend of mine
+has--or will."
+
+"You have!" cried Harry with a start. He was interested now--not for
+himself, but for St. George: no penny of his uncle's should ever go to
+pay his debts. "Where did the money come from?"
+
+"Never you mind where the money came from. You found it for Gilbert--did
+he ask you where you got it? Why should you ask me?"
+
+"Well, I won't; but you are mighty good to me, Uncle George, and I am
+very grateful to you." The relief was not overwhelming, for the burden
+of the debt had not been heavy. It was only the sting of his father's
+refusal that had hurt. He had always believed that the financial tangle
+would be straightened out somehow.
+
+"No!--damn it!--you are not grateful. You sha'n't be grateful!" cried
+St. George with a boyish laugh, seating himself that he might fill his
+pipe the better from a saucer of tobacco on the table. "If you were
+grateful it would spoil it all. What you can do, however, is to thank
+your lucky stars that that greasy red pocket-handkerchief will never be
+aired in your presence again. And there's another thing you can be
+thankful for now that you are in a thankful mood, and that is that Mr.
+Poe will be at Guy's to-morrow, and wants to see me." He had finished
+filling the pipe bowl, and had struck a match.
+
+The boy's eyes danced. Gadgem, his father, his debts, everything--was
+forgotten.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! How do you know?"
+
+"Here's a letter from him." (Puff-puff.)
+
+"And can I see him?"
+
+"Of course you can see him! We will have him to dinner, my boy! Here
+comes Todd with your coffee. Take my seat so I can talk to you while I
+smoke."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+
+
+Although St. George dispensed his hospitality without form or pretence,
+never referring to his intended functions except in a casual way, the
+news of so unusual a dinner to so notorious a man as Edgar Allan Poe
+could not long be kept quiet.
+
+While a few habitues occupying the arm-chairs on the sidewalk of the
+club were disappointed at not being invited,--although they knew that
+ten guests had always been St. George's limit,--others expressed their
+disapproval of the entire performance with more than a shrug of the
+shoulders. Captain Warfleld was most outspoken. "Temple," he said, "like
+his father, is a law unto himself, and always entertains the queerest
+kind of people; and if he wants to do honor to a man of that stamp, why
+that, of course, is his business, not mine." At which old Tom Purviance
+had blurted out--"And a shiftless vagabond too, Warfield, if what I hear
+is true. Fine subject for St. George to waste his Madeira on!" Purviance
+had never read a dozen lines of anybody's poetry in his life, and looked
+upon all literary men as no better than play actors.
+
+It was then that Richard Horn, his eyes flashing, had retorted:
+
+"If I did not know how kind-hearted you were, Purviance, and how
+thoughtless you can sometimes be in your criticisms, I might ask you to
+apologize to both Mr. Poe and myself. Would it surprise you to know that
+there is no more truth in what you say than there is in the reports of
+that gentleman's habitual drunkenness? It was but a year ago that I met
+him at his cousin's house and I shall never forget him. Would it also
+surprise you to learn that he has the appearance of a man of very great
+distinction?--that he was faultlessly attired in a full suit of black
+and had the finest pair of eyes in his head I have ever looked into? Mr.
+Poe is not of your world, or of mine--he is above it. There is too much
+of this sort of ill-considered judgment abroad in the land. No--my dear
+Purviance--I don't want to be rude and I am sure you will not think I am
+personal. I am only trying to be just to one of the master spirits of
+our time so that I won't be humiliated when his real worth becomes a
+household word."
+
+The women took a different view.
+
+"I can't understand what Mr. Temple is thinking of," said the wife of
+the archdeacon to Mrs. Cheston. "This Mr. Poe is something
+dreadful--never sober, I hear. Mr. Temple is invariably polite to
+everybody, but when he goes out of his way to do honor to a man like
+this he only makes it harder for those of us who are trying to help our
+sons and brothers--" to which Mrs. Cheston had replied with a twinkle in
+her mouse eyes and a toss of her gray head:--"So was Byron, my dear
+woman--a very dreadful and most disreputable person, but I can't spare
+him from my Library, nor should you."
+
+None of these criticisms would have affected St. George had he heard
+them, and we may be sure no one dared tell him. He was too busy, in
+fact--and so was Harry, helping him for that matter--setting his house
+in order for the coming function.
+
+That the table itself might be made the more worthy of the great man,
+orders were given that the big silver loving-cup--the one presented to
+his father by no less a person than the Marquis de Castellux himself--
+should be brought out to be filled later on with Cloth of Gold roses so
+placed that their rich color and fragrance would reach both the eyes and
+the nostrils of his guests, while the rest of the family silver,
+brightened to a mirror finish by Todd, was either sent down to Aunt
+Jemima to be ready for the special dishes for which the house was
+famous, or disposed on the side-board and serving-table for instant use
+when required. Easy-chairs were next brought from upstairs--tobacco and
+pipes, with wax candles, were arranged on teak-wood trays, and an extra
+dozen or so of bubble-blown glasses banked on a convenient shelf. The
+banquet room too, for it was late summer, was kept as cool as the season
+permitted, the green shutters being closed, thus barring out the heat of
+early September--and the same precaution was taken in the dressing-room,
+which was to serve as a receptacle for hats and canes.
+
+And Todd as usual was his able assistant. All the darky's training came
+into play when his master was giving a dinner: what Madeira to decant,
+and what to leave in its jacket of dust, with its waistcoat of a label
+unlaundered for half a century; the temperature of the claret; the exact
+angle at which the Burgundy must be tilted and when it was to be
+opened--and how--especially the "how"--the disturbing of a single grain
+of sediment being a capital offence; the final brandies, particularly
+that old Peach Brandy hidden in Tom Coston's father's cellar during the
+war of 1812, and sent to that gentleman as an especial "mark of my
+appreciation to my dear friend and kinsman, St. George Wilmot Temple,"
+etc., etc.--all this Todd knew to his finger ends.
+
+For with St. George to dine meant something more than the mere
+satisfying of one's hunger. To dine meant to get your elbows next to
+your dearest friend--half a dozen or more of your dearest friends, if
+possible--to look into their faces, hear them talk, regale them with
+the best your purse afforded, and last and best of all to open for them
+your rarest wines--wines bred in the open, amid tender, clustering
+leaves; wines mellowed by a thousand sunbeams; nurtured, cared for, and
+put tenderly to sleep, only to awake years thereafter to warm the hearts
+and cheer the souls of those who honored them with their respect and
+never degraded them with their debauchery.
+
+As for the dishes themselves--here St. George with Jemima's help was
+pastmaster: dishes sizzling hot; dishes warm, and dishes stone cold. And
+their several arrivals and departures, accompanied by their several
+staffs: the soup as an advance guard--of gumbo or clams--or both if you
+chose; then a sheepshead caught off Cobb's Island the day before, just
+arrived by the day boat, with potatoes that would melt in your mouth--in
+gray jackets these; then soft-shell crabs--big, crisp fellows, with
+fixed bayonets of legs, and orderlies of cucumber--the first served on a
+huge silver platter with the coat-of-arms of the Temples cut in the
+centre of the rim and the last on an old English cut-glass dish. Then
+the woodcock and green peas--and green corn--their teeth in a broad
+grin; then an olio of pineapple, and a wonderful Cheshire cheese, just
+arrived in a late invoice--and marvellous crackers--and coffee--and
+fruit (cantaloupes and peaches that would make your mouth water), then
+nuts, and last a few crusts of dry bread! And here everything came to a
+halt and all the troops were sent back to the barracks--(Aunt Jemima
+will do for the barracks).
+
+With this there was to follow a change of base--a most important
+change. Everything eatable and drinkable and all the glasses and dishes
+were to be lifted from the table--one half at a time--the cloth rolled
+back and whisked away and the polished mahogany laid bare; the silver
+coasters posted in advantageous positions, and in was to rattle the
+light artillery:--Black Warrior of 1810--Port of 1815--a Royal Brown
+Sherry that nobody knew anything about, and had no desire to, so
+fragrant was it. Last of all the notched finger-bowls in which to cool
+the delicate, pipe-stem glasses; and then, and only then, did the real
+dinner begin.
+
+All this Todd had done dozens and dozens of times before, and all this
+(with Malachi's assistance--Richard Horn consenting--for there was
+nothing too good for the great poet) would Todd do again on this
+eventful night.
+
+As to the guests, this particular feast being given to the most
+distinguished literary genius the country had yet produced,--certainly
+the most talked of--those who were bidden were, of course, selected with
+more than usual care: Mr. John P. Kennedy, the widely known author and
+statesman, and Mr. John H. B. Latrobe, equally noteworthy as counsellor,
+mathematician, and patron of the fine arts, both of whom had been Poe's
+friends for years, and who had first recognized his genius; Richard
+Horn, who never lost an opportunity to praise him, together with Judge
+Pancoast, Major Clayton, the richest aristocrat about Kennedy Square and
+whose cellar was famous the county over--and last, the Honorable Prim.
+Not because old Seymour possessed any especial fitness one way or the
+other for a dinner of this kind, but because his presence would afford
+an underground communication by which Kate could learn how fine and
+splendid Harry was--(sly old diplomat St. George!)--and how well he had
+appeared at a table about which were seated the best Kennedy Square
+could produce.
+
+"I'll put you right opposite Mr. Poe, Harry--so you can study him at
+your leisure," St. George had said when discussing the placing of the
+guests, "and be sure you look at his hands, they are just like a girl's,
+they are so soft and white. And his eyes--you will never forget them.
+And there is an air about him too--an air of--well, a sort of haughty
+distraction--something I can't quite explain--as if he had a contempt
+for small things--things that you and I, and your father and all of us
+about here, believe in. Blood or no blood, he's a gentleman, even if he
+does come of very plain people;--and they were players I hear. It seems
+natural, when you think it over, that Latrobe and Kennedy and Horn
+should be men of genius, because their blood entitles them to it, but
+how a man raised as Mr. Poe has been should--well--all I can say is that
+he upsets all our theories."
+
+"But I think you are wrong, Uncle George, about his birth. I've been
+looking him up and his grandfather was a general in the Revolution."
+
+"Well, I'm glad of it--and I hope he was a very good general, and very
+much of a gentleman--but there is no question of his descendant being a
+wonder. But that is neither here nor there--you'll be right opposite and
+can study him in your own way."
+
+
+Mr. Kennedy arrived first. Although his family name is the same as that
+which dignifies the scene of these chronicles, none of his ancestors, so
+far as I know, were responsible for its title. Nor did his own domicile
+front on its confines. In fact, at this period of his varied and
+distinguished life, he was seldom seen in Kennedy Square, his duties at
+Washington occupying all his time, and it was by the merest chance that
+he could be present.
+
+"Ah, St. George!" he exclaimed, as he handed his hat to Todd and grasped
+his host's hand. "So very good of you to let me come. How cool and
+delicious it is in here--and the superb roses--Ah yes!--the old
+Castellux cup. I remember it perfectly; your father once gave me a sip
+from its rim when I was a young fellow. And now tell me--how is our
+genius? What a master-stroke is his last--the whole country. is ringing
+with it. How did you get hold of him?"
+
+"Very easily. He wrote me he was passing through on his way to Richmond,
+and you naturally popped into my head as the proper man to sit next
+him," replied St. George in his hearty manner.
+
+"And you were on top of him, I suppose, before he got out of bed. Safer,
+sometimes," and he smiled significantly.
+
+"Yes, found him at Guy's. Sit here, Kennedy, where the air is cooler."
+
+"And quite himself?" continued the author, settling himself in a chair
+that St. George had just drawn out for him.
+
+"Perhaps a little thinner, and a little worn. It was only when I told
+him you were coming, that I got a smile out of him. He never forgets you
+and he never should."
+
+Again Todd answered the knocker and Major Clayton, Richard Horn, and Mr.
+Latrobe joined the group. The major, who was rather stout, apologized
+for his light seersucker coat, due, as he explained, to the heat,
+although his other garments were above criticism. Richard, however,
+looked as if he had just stepped out of an old portrait in his dull-blue
+coat and white silk scarf, St. George's eyes lighting up as he took in
+the combination--nothing pleased St. George so much as a well-dressed
+man, and Richard never disappointed him, while Latrobe, both in his
+dress and dignified bearing, easily held first place as the most
+distinguished looking man in the room.
+
+The Honorable Prim now stalked in and shook hands gravely and with much
+dignity, especially with Mr. Kennedy, whose career as a statesman he had
+always greatly admired. St. George often said, in speaking of this
+manner of the Scotchman's, that Prim's precise pomposity was entirely
+due to the fact that he had swallowed himself and couldn't digest the
+meal; that if he would once in a while let out a big, hearty laugh it
+might split his skin wide enough for him to get a natural breath.
+
+St. George kept his eyes on Harry when the boy stepped forward and shook
+Prim by the hand, but he had no need for anxiety. The face of the young
+prince lighted up and his manner was as gracious as if nothing had ever
+occurred to mar the harmony between the Seymour clan and himself.
+
+Everybody had seated themselves now--Malachi having passed around a
+course of palm-leaf fans--Clayton, Latrobe, and Horn at one open window
+overlooking the tired trees--it was in the dog days--Seymour and the
+judge at the other, while St. George took a position so that he could
+catch the first glimpse of the famous poet as he crossed the Square--(it
+was still light), the dinner hour having arrived and Todd already
+getting nervous.
+
+Once more the talk dwelt on the guest of honor--Mr. Kennedy, who, of
+all men of his time, could best appreciate Poe's genius, and who, with
+Mr. Latrobe, had kept it alive, telling for the hundredth time the old
+story of his first meeting with the poet, turning now and then to
+Latrobe for confirmation.
+
+"Oh, some ten or more years ago, wasn't it, Latrobe? We happened to be
+on the committee for awarding a prize story, and Poe had sent in his
+'Manuscript in a Bottle' among others. It would have broken your hearts,
+gentlemen, to have seen him. His black coat was buttoned up close to his
+chin--seedy, badly worn--he himself shabby and down at the heels, but
+erect and extremely courteous--a most pitiable object. My servant wasn't
+going to let him in at first, he looked so much the vagrant."
+
+"And you know, of course, Kennedy, that he had no shirt on under that
+coat, don't you?" rejoined Latrobe, rising from his seat as he spoke and
+joining St. George at the window.
+
+"Do you think so?" echoed Mr. Kennedy.
+
+"I am positive of it. He came to see me next day and wanted me to let
+him know whether he had been successful. He said if the committee only
+knew how much the prize would mean to him they would stretch a point in
+his favor. I am quite sure I told you about it at the time, St. George,"
+and he laid his hand on his host's shoulder.
+
+"There was no need of stretching it, Latrobe," remarked Richard Horn in
+his low, incisive voice, his eyes on Kennedy's face, although he was
+speaking to the counsellor. "You and Kennedy did the world a great
+service at the right moment. Many a man of brains--one with something
+new to say--has gone to the wall and left his fellow men that much
+poorer because no one helped him into the Pool of Healing at the right
+moment." (Dear Richard!--he was already beginning to understand
+something of this in his own experience.)
+
+Todd's entrance interrupted the talk for a moment. His face was screwed
+up into knots, both eyes lost in the deepest crease. "Fo' Gawd, Marse
+George," he whispered in his master's ear--"dem woodcock'll be sp'iled
+if dat gemman don't come!"
+
+St. George shook his head: "We will wait a few minutes more, Todd. Tell
+Aunt Jemima what I say."
+
+Clayton, who despite the thinness of his seersucker coat, had kept his
+palm-leaf fan busy since he had taken his seat, and who had waited until
+his host's ear was again free, now broke in cheerily:
+
+"Same old story of course, St. George. Another genius gone astray. Bad
+business, this bee of literature, once it gets to buzzing." Then with a
+quizzical glance at the author: "Kennedy is a lamentable example of what
+it has done for him. He started out as a soldier, dropped into law, and
+now is trying to break into Congress again--and all the time writes--
+writes--writes. It has spoiled everything he has tried to do in
+life--and it will spoil everything he touches from this on--and now
+comes along this man Poe, who--"
+
+"--No, he doesn't come along," chimed in Pancoast, who so far had kept
+silence, his palm-leaf fan having done all the talking. "I wish he
+would."
+
+"You are right, judge," chuckled Clayton, "and that is just my point.
+Here I say, comes along this man Poe and spoils my dinner. Something, I
+tell you, has got to be done or I shall collapse. By the way,
+Kennedy--didn't you send Poe a suit of clothes once in which to come to
+your house?"
+
+The distinguished statesman, who had been smiling at the major's
+good-natured badinage, made no reply: that was a matter between the poet
+and himself.
+
+"And didn't he keep everybody waiting?" persisted Clayton, "until your
+man found him and brought him back in your own outfit--only the shirt
+was four sizes too big for his bean-pole of a body. Am I right?" he
+laughed.
+
+"He has often dined with me, Clayton," replied Kennedy in his most
+courteous and kindly tone, ignoring the question as well as all allusion
+to his charity--"and never in all my experience have I ever met a more
+dazzling conversationalist. Start him on one of his weird tales and let
+him see that you are interested and in sympathy with him, and you will
+never forget it. He gave us parts of an unfinished story one night at my
+house, so tremendous in its power that every one was frozen stiff in his
+seat."
+
+Again Clayton cut in, this time to St. George. He was getting horribly
+hungry, as were the others. It was now twenty minutes past the dinner
+hour and there were still no signs of Poe, nor had any word come from
+him. "For mercy's sake, St. George, try the suit-of-clothes method--any
+suit of clothes--here--he can have mine! I'll be twice as comfortable
+without them."
+
+"He couldn't get into them," returned St. George with a smile--"nor
+could he into mine, although he is half our weight; and as for our
+hats--they wouldn't get further down on his head than the top of his
+crown."
+
+"But I insist on the experiment," bubbled Clayton good-naturedly. "Here
+we are, hungry as wolves and everything being burned up. Try the
+suit-of-clothes trick--Kennedy did it--and it won't take your Todd ten
+minutes to go to Guy's and bring him back inside of them."
+
+"Those days are over for Poe," Kennedy remarked with a slight frown. The
+major's continued allusions to a brother writer's poverty, though pure
+badinage, had begun to jar on the author.
+
+For the second time Todd's face was thrust in at the door. It now looked
+like a martyr's being slowly roasted at the stake.
+
+"Yes, Todd--serve dinner!" called St. George in a tone that showed how
+great was his disappointment. "We won't wait any longer, gentlemen.
+Geniuses must be allowed some leeway. Something has detained our guest."
+
+"He's got an idea in his head and has stopped in somewhere to write it
+down," continued Clayton in his habitual good-natured tone: it was the
+overdone woodcock--(he had heard Todd's warning)--that still filled his
+mind.
+
+"I could forgive him for that," exclaimed the judge--"some of his best
+work, I hear, has been done on the spur of the moment--and you should
+forgive him too, Clayton--unbeliever and iconoclast as you are--and you
+WOULD forgive him if you knew as much about new poetry as you do about
+old port."
+
+Clayton's stout body shook with laughter. "My dear Pancoast," he cried,
+"you do not know what you are talking about. No man living or dead
+should be forgiven who keeps a woodcock on the spit five minutes over
+time. Forgive him! Why, my dear sir, your poet ought to be drawn and
+quartered, and what is left of him boiled in oil. Where shall I sit, St.
+George?"
+
+"Alongside of Latrobe. Kennedy, I shall put you next to Poe's vacant
+chair--he knows and loves you best. Seymour, will you and Richard take
+your places alongside of Pancoast, and Harry, will you please sit
+opposite Mr. Kennedy?"
+
+And so the dinner began.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+
+
+Whether it was St. George's cheery announcement: "Well, gentlemen, I am
+sorry, but we still have each other, and so we will remember our guest
+in our hearts even if we cannot have his charming person," or whether it
+was that the absence of Poe made little difference when a dinner with
+St. George was in question--certain it is that before many moments the
+delinquent poet was for the most part forgotten.
+
+As the several dishes passed in review, Malachi in charge of the small
+arms--plates, knives, and forks--and Todd following with the heavier
+guns--silver platters and the like--the talk branched out to more
+diversified topics: the new omnibuses which had been allowed to run in
+the town; the serious financial situation, few people having recovered
+from the effects of the last great panic; the expected reception to Mr.
+Polk; the new Historical Society, of which every one present was a
+member except St. George and Harry; the successful experiments which the
+New York painter, a Mr. Morse, was making in what he was pleased to call
+Magnetic Telegraphy, and the absurdity of his claim that his invention
+would soon come into general use--every one commenting unfavorably
+except Richard Horn:--all these shuttlecocks being tossed into mid-air
+for each battledore to crack, and all these, with infinite tact the
+better to hide his own and his companions' disappointment over the loss
+of his honored guest--did St. George keep on the move.
+
+With the shifting of the cloth and the placing of the coasters--the
+nuts, crusts of bread, and finger-bowls being within easy reach--most of
+this desultory talk ceased. Something more delicate, more human, more
+captivating than sport, finance, or politics; more satisfying than all
+the poets who ever lived, filled everybody's mind. Certain Rip Van
+Winkles of bottles with tattered garments, dust-begrimed faces, and
+cobwebs in their hair were lifted tenderly from the side-board and
+awakened to consciousness (some of them hadn't opened their mouths for
+twenty years, except to have them immediately stopped with a new cork),
+and placed in the expectant coasters, Todd handling each one with the
+reverence of a priest serving in a temple. Crusty, pot-bellied old
+fellows, who hadn't uttered a civil word to anybody since they had been
+shut up in their youth, now laughed themselves wide open. A squat,
+lean-necked, jolly little jug without legs--labelled in
+ink--"Crab-apple, 1807," spread himself over as much of the mahogany as
+he could cover, and admired his fat shape upside down in its polish.
+Diamond-cut decanters--regular swells these--with silver chains and
+medals on their chests--went swaggering round, boasting of their
+ancestors; saying "Your good health" every time any one invited them to
+have a drop--or lose one--while a modest little demijohn--or rather a
+semi-demi-little-john--all in his wicker-basket clothes, with a card
+sewed on his jacket--like a lost boy (Peggy Coston of Wesley did the
+sewing) bearing its name and address--"Old Peach, 1796, Wesley, Eastern
+Shore," was placed on St. George's right within reach of his hand. "It
+reminds me of the dear woman herself, gentleman, in her homely outside
+and her warm, loving heart underneath, and I wouldn't change any part of
+it for the world."
+
+"What Madeira is this, St. George?" It was the judge who was
+speaking--he had not yet raised the thin glass to his lips; the old
+wine-taster was too absorbed in its rich amber color and in the delicate
+aroma, which was now reaching his nostrils. Indeed a new--several new
+fragrances, were by this time permeating the room.
+
+"It is the same, judge, that I always give you."
+
+"Not your father's Black Warrior?"
+
+"Yes, the 1810. Don't you recognize it? Not corked, is it?"
+
+"Corked, my dear man! It's a posy of roses. But I thought that was all
+gone."
+
+"No, there are a few bottles still in my cellar--some-- How many are
+there, Todd, of the Black Warrior?"
+
+"Dat's de las' 'cept two, Marse George."
+
+"Dying in a good cause, judge--I'll send them to you to-morrow."
+
+"You'll do nothing of the kind, you spendthrift. Give them to Kennedy or
+Clayton."
+
+"No, give them to nobody!" laughed Kennedy. "Keep them where they are
+and don't let anybody draw either cork until you invite me to dinner
+again."
+
+"Only two bottles left," cried Latrobe in consternation! "Well, what the
+devil are we going to do when they are gone?--what's anybody going to
+do?" The "we" was the key to the situation. The good Madeira of Kennedy
+Square was for those who honored it, and in that sense--and that sense
+only--was common property.
+
+"Don't be frightened, Latrobe," laughed St. George--"I've got a lot of
+the Blackburn Reserve of 1812 left. Todd, serve that last bottle I
+brought up this morning--I put it in that low decanter next to-- Ah,
+Malachi--you are nearest. Pass that to Mr. Latrobe, Malachi-- Yes,
+that's the one. Now tell me how you like it. It is a little pricked, I
+think, and may be slightly bruised in the handling. I spent half an hour
+picking out the cork this morning--but there is no question of its
+value."
+
+"Yes," rejoined Latrobe, moistening his lips with the topaz-colored
+liquid--"it is a little bruised. I wouldn't have served it--better lay
+it aside for a month or two in the decanter. Are all your corks down to
+that, St. George?"
+
+"All the 1810 and '12--dry as powder some of them. I've got one over on
+the sideboard that I'm afraid to tackle"--here he turned to Clayton:
+"Major, you are the only man I know who can pick out a cork properly.
+Yes, Todd--the bottle at the end, next to that Burgundy--carefully now.
+Don't shake it, and--"
+
+"Well--but why don't YOU draw the cork yourself, St. George?"
+interrupted the major, his eyes on Todd, who was searching for the
+rarity among the others flanking the sideboard.
+
+"I dare not--that is, I'm afraid to try. You are the man for a cork like
+that--and Todd!--hand Major Clayton the corkscrew and one of those
+silver nutpicks."
+
+The Honorable Prim bent closer. "What is it, St. George, some old Port?"
+he asked in a perfunctory way. Rare old wines never interested him.
+"They are an affectation," he used to say.
+
+"No, Seymour--it's really a bottle of the Peter Remsen 1817 Madeira."
+
+The bottle was passed, every eye watching it with the greatest interest.
+
+"No, never mind the corkscrew, Todd,--I'll pick it out," remarked the
+major, examining the hazardous cork with the care of a watchmaker
+handling a broken-down chronometer. "You're right, St. George--it's too
+far gone. Don't watch me, Seymour, or I'll get nervous. You'll hoodoo
+it--you Scotchmen are the devil when it comes to anything fit to drink,"
+and he winked at Prim.
+
+"How much is there left of it, St. George?" asked Latrobe, watching the
+major manipulate the nutpick.
+
+"Not a drop outside that bottle."
+
+"Let us pray--for the cork," sighed Latrobe. "Easy--E-A-SY, major--think
+of your responsibility, man!"
+
+It was out now, the major dusting the opening with one end of his
+napkin--his face wreathed in smiles when his nostrils caught the first
+whiff of its aroma.
+
+"By Jupiter!--gentlemen!--When I'm being snuffed out I'll at least go
+like a gentleman if I have a drop of this on my lips. It's a bunch of
+roses--a veritable nosegay. Heavens!--what a bouquet! Some fresh
+glasses, Todd."
+
+Malachi and Todd both stepped forward for the honor of serving it, but
+the major waved them aside, and rising to his feet began the round of
+the table, filling each slender pipe-stem glass to the brim.
+
+Then the talk, which had long since drifted away from general topics,
+turned to the color and sparkle of some of the more famous wines
+absorbed these many years by their distinguished votaries. This was
+followed by the proper filtration and racking both of Ports and
+Madeiras, and whether milk or egg were best for the purpose--Kennedy
+recounting his experience of different vintages both here and abroad,
+the others joining in, and all with the same intense interest that a
+group of scientists or collectors would have evinced in discussing some
+new discovery in chemistry or physics, or the coming to light of some
+rare volume long since out of print--everybody, indeed, taking a hand in
+the discussion except Latrobe, whose mouth was occupied in the slow
+sipping of his favorite Madeira--tilting a few drops now and then on the
+end of his tongue, his eyes devoutly closed that he might the better
+relish its flavor and aroma.
+
+It was all an object lesson to Harry, who had never been to a dinner of
+older men--not even at his father's--and though at first he smiled at
+what seemed to him a great fuss over nothing, he finally began to take a
+broader view. Wine, then, was like food or music, or poetry--or
+good-fellowship--something to be enjoyed in its place--and never out of
+it. For all that, he had allowed no drop of anything to fall into his
+own glass--a determination which Todd understood perfectly, but which
+he as studiously chose to ignore--going through all the motions of
+filling the glass so as not to cause Marse Harry any embarrassment. Even
+the "1817" was turned down by the young man with a parrying gesture
+which caught the alert eyes of the major.
+
+"You are right, my boy," the bon vivant said sententiously. "It is a
+wine for old men. But look after your stomach, you dog--or you may wake
+up some fine morning and not be able to know good Madeira from bad. You
+young bloods, with your vile concoctions of toddies, punches, and other
+satanic brews, are fast going to the devil--your palates, I am speaking
+of. If you ever saw the inside of a distillery you would never drink
+another drop of whiskey. There's poison in every thimbleful. There's
+sunshine in this, sir!" and he held the glass to his eyes until the
+light of the candles flashed through it.
+
+"But I've never seen the inside or outside of a distillery in my life,"
+answered Harry with a laugh, a reply which did not in the least quench
+the major's enthusiasms, who went on dilating, wine-glass in hand, on
+the vulgarity of drinking STANDING UP--the habitual custom of whiskey
+tipplers--in contrast with the refinement of sipping wines SITTING
+DOWN--one being a vice and the other a virtue.
+
+Richard, too, had been noticing Harry. He had overheard, as the dinner
+progressed, a remark the boy had made to the guest next him, regarding
+the peculiar rhythm of Poe's verse--Harry repeating the closing lines of
+the poem with such keen appreciation of their meaning that Richard at
+once joined in the talk, commending him for his insight and
+discrimination. He had always supposed that Rutter's son, like all the
+younger bloods of his time, had abandoned his books when he left college
+and had affected horses and dogs instead. The discovery ended in his
+scrutinizing Harry's face the closer, reading between the lines--his
+father here, his mother there--until a quick knitting of the brows, and
+a flash from out the deep-brown eyes, upset all his preconceived
+opinions; he had expected grit and courage in the boy--there couldn't
+help being that when one thought of his father--but where did the lad
+get his imagination? Richard wondered--that which millions could not
+purchase. "A most engaging young man in spite of his madcap life," he
+said to himself--"I don't wonder St. George loves him."
+
+When the bell in the old church struck the hour of ten, Harry again
+turned to Richard and said with a sigh of disappointment:
+
+"I'm afraid it's too late to expect him--don't you think so?"
+
+"Yes, I fear so," rejoined Richard, who all through the dinner had never
+ceased to bend his ear to every sound, hoping for the rumble of wheels
+or the quick step of a man in the hall. "Something extraordinary must
+have happened to him, or he may have been called suddenly to Richmond
+and taken the steamboat." Then leaning toward his host he called across
+the table: "Might I make a suggestion, St. George?"
+
+St. George paused in his talk with Mr. Kennedy and Latrobe and raised
+his head:
+
+"Well, Richard?"
+
+"I was just saying to young Rutter here, that perhaps Mr. Poe has been
+called suddenly to Richmond and has sent you a note which has not
+reached you."
+
+"Or he might be ill," suggested Harry in his anxiety to leave no
+loophole through which the poet could escape.
+
+"Or he might be ill," repeated Richard--"quite true. Now would you mind
+if I sent Malachi to Guy's to find out?"
+
+"No, Richard--but I'll send Todd. We can get along, I expect, with
+Malachi until he gets back. Todd!"
+
+"Yes, sah."
+
+"You go to Guy's and ask Mr. Lampson if Mr. Poe is still in the hotel.
+If he is not there ask for any letter addressed to me and then come
+back. If he is in, go up to his room and present my compliments, and say
+we are waiting dinner for him."
+
+Todd's face lengthened, but he missed no word of his master's
+instructions. Apart from these his mind was occupied with the number of
+minutes it would take him to run all the way to Guy's Hotel, mount the
+steps, deliver his message, and race back again. Malachi, who was nearly
+twice his age, and who had had twice his experience, might be all right
+until he reached that old Burgundy, but "dere warn't nobody could handle
+dem corks but Todd; Malachi'd bust 'em sho' and spile 'em 'fo' he could
+git back."
+
+"'Spose dere ain't no gemman and no letter, den what?" he asked as a
+last resort.
+
+"Then come straight home."
+
+"Yes, sah," and he backed regretfully from the room and closed the door
+behind him.
+
+St. George turned to Horn again: "Very good idea, Richard--wonder I
+hadn't thought of it before. I should probably had I not expected him
+every minute. And he was so glad to come. He told me he had never
+forgotten the dinner at Kennedy's some years ago, and when he heard you
+would be here as well, his whole face lighted up. I was also greatly
+struck with the improvement in his appearance, he seemed more a man of
+the world than when I first knew him--carried himself better and was
+more carefully dressed. This morning when I went in he--"
+
+The door opened silently, and Todd, trembling all over, laid his hand on
+his master's shoulder, cutting short his dissertation.
+
+"Marse George, please sah, can I speak to you a minute?" The boy looked
+as if he had just seen a ghost.
+
+"Speak to me! Why haven't you taken my message, Todd?"
+
+"Yes, sah--dat is--can't ye step in de hall a minute, Marse
+George--now--right away?"
+
+"The hall!--what for?--is there anything the matter?"
+
+St. George pushed back his chair and followed Todd from the room:
+something had gone wrong--something demanding instant attention or Todd
+wouldn't be scared out of his wits. Those nearest him, who had overheard
+Todd's whispered words, halted in their talk in the hope of getting some
+clew to the situation; others, further away, kept on, unconscious that
+anything unusual had taken place.
+
+Several minutes passed.
+
+Again the door swung wide, and a man deathly pale, erect, faultlessly
+dressed in a full suit of black, the coat buttoned close to his chin,
+his cavernous eyes burning like coals of fire, entered on St. George's
+arm and advanced toward the group.
+
+Every guest was on his feet in an instant.
+
+"We have him at last!" cried St. George in his cheeriest voice. "A
+little late, but doubly welcome. Mr. Poe, gentlemen."
+
+Kennedy was the first to extend his hand, Horn crowding close, the
+others waiting their turn.
+
+Poe straightened his body, focussed his eyes on Kennedy, shook his
+extended hand gravely, but without the slightest sign of recognition,
+and repeated the same cold greeting to each guest in the room. He spoke
+no word--did not open his lips--only the mechanical movement of his
+outstretched hand--a movement so formal that it stifled all exclamations
+of praise on the part of the guests, or even of welcome. It was as if he
+had grasped the hands of strangers beside an open grave.
+
+Then the cold, horrible truth flashed upon them:
+
+Edgar Allan Poe was dead drunk!
+
+
+The silence that followed was appalling--an expectant silence like that
+which precedes the explosion of a bomb. Kennedy, who had known him the
+longest and best, and who knew that if his mind could once be set
+working he would recover his tongue and wits, having seen him before in
+a similar crisis, stepped nearer and laid both hands on Poe's shoulders.
+Get Poe to talking and he would be himself again; let him once be
+seated, and ten chances to one he would fall asleep at the table.
+
+"No, don't sit down, Mr. Poe--not yet. Give us that great story of
+yours--the one you told at my house that night--we have never forgotten
+it. Gentlemen, all take your seats--I promise you one of the great
+treats of your lives."
+
+Poe stood for an instant undecided, the light of the candles illumining
+his black hair, pallid face, and haggard features; fixed his eyes on
+Todd and Malachi, as if trying to account for their presence, and stood
+wavering, his deep, restless eyes gleaming like slumbering coals
+flashing points of hot light.
+
+Again Mr. Kennedy's voice rang out:
+
+"Any one of your stories, Mr. Poe--we leave it to you."
+
+Everybody was seated now, with eyes fixed on the poet. Harry, overcome
+and still dazed, pressed close to Richard, who, bending forward, had put
+his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand. Clayton wheeled up a big
+chair and placed it back some little distance so that he could get a
+better view of the man. Seymour, Latrobe, and the others canted their
+seats to face the speaker squarely. All felt that Kennedy's tact had
+saved the situation and restored the equilibrium. It was the poet now
+who stood before them--the man of genius--the man whose name was known
+the country through. That he was drunk was only part of the performance.
+Booth had been drunk when he chased a super from the stage; Webster made
+his best speeches when he was half-seas-over--was making them at that
+very moment. It was so with many other men of genius the world over. If
+they could hear one of Poe's poems--or, better still, one of his short
+stories, like "The Black Cat" or the "Murders in the Rue Morgue"--it
+would be like hearing Emerson read one of his Essays or Longfellow
+recite his "Hyperion." This in itself would atone for everything.
+Kennedy was right--it would be one of the rare treats of their lives.
+
+Poe grasped the back of the chair reserved for him, stood swaying for an
+instant, passed one hand nervously across his forehead, brushed back a
+stray lock that had fallen over his eyebrow, loosened the top button of
+his frock coat, revealing a fresh white scarf tied about his neck,
+closed his eyes, and in a voice deep, sonorous, choked with tears one
+moment, ringing clear the next--word by word--slowly--with infinite
+tenderness and infinite dignity and with the solemnity of a condemned
+man awaiting death--repeated the Lord's Prayer to the end.
+
+
+Kennedy sat as if paralyzed. Richard Horn, who had lifted up his hands
+in horror as the opening sentence reached his ears, lowered his head
+upon his chest as he would in church. There was no blasphemy in this! It
+was the wail of a lost soul pleading for mercy!
+
+Harry, cowering in his chair, gazed at Poe in amazement. Then a throb of
+such sympathy as he had never felt before shook him to his depths. Could
+that transfigured man praying there, the undried tears still on his
+lids, be the same who had entered on his uncle's arm but a few moments
+before?
+
+Poe lifted his head, opened his eyes, walked in a tired, hopeless way
+toward the mantel and sank into an easy-chair. There he sat with bowed
+head, his face in his hands.
+
+One by one the men rose to their feet and, with a nod or silent pressure
+of St. George's palm, moved toward the door. When they spoke to each
+other it was in whispers: to Todd, who brought their hats and canes; to
+Harry, whom, unconsciously, they substituted for host; shaking his hand,
+muttering some word of sympathy for St. George. No--they would find
+their way, better not disturb his uncle, etc. They would see him in the
+morning, etc., and thus the group passed out in a body and left the
+house.
+
+Temple himself was profoundly moved. The utter helplessness of the man;
+his abject and complete surrender to the demon which possessed him--all
+this appalled him. He had seen many drunken men in his time--roysterers
+and brawlers, most of them--but never one like Poe. The poet seemed to
+have lost his identity--nothing of the man of the world was left--in
+speech, thought, or movement.
+
+When Harry re-entered, his uncle was sitting beside the poet, who had
+not yet addressed him a word; nor had he again raised his head. Every
+now and then the sound of an indrawn breath would escape Poe, as if hot
+tears were choking him.
+
+St. George waved his hand meaningly.
+
+"Tell Todd I'll ring for him when I want him, Harry," he whispered, "and
+now do you go to sleep." Then, pointing to the crouching man, "He must
+stay in my bed here to-night; I won't leave him. What a pity! O God!
+what a pity! Poor fellow--how sorry I am for him!"
+
+Harry was even more affected. Terrified and awestruck, he mounted the
+stairs to his room, locked his chamber door, and threw himself on his
+bed, his mother's and Kate's pleadings sounding in his ears, his mind
+filled with the picture of the poet standing erect with closed eyes, the
+prayer his mother had taught him falling from his lips. This, then, was
+what his mother and Kate meant--this--the greatest of all
+calamities--the overthrow of a MAN.
+
+For the hundredth time he turned his wandering search-light into his own
+heart. The salient features of his own short career passed in review:
+the fluttering of the torn card as it fell to the floor; the sharp crack
+of Willits's pistol; the cold, harsh tones of his father's voice when he
+ordered him from the house; Kate's dear eyes streaming with tears and
+her uplifted hands--their repellent palms turned toward him as she
+sobbed--"Go away--my heart is broken!" And then the refrain of the poem
+which of late had haunted him night and day:
+
+"Disaster following fast and following faster, Till his song one burden
+bore,"
+
+and then the full, rich tones of Poe's voice pleading with his Maker:
+
+"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us."
+
+"Yes:--Disaster had followed fast and faster. But why had it followed
+him? What had he done to bring all this misery upon himself? How could
+he have acted differently? Wherein had he broken any law he had been
+taught to uphold, and if he had broken it why should he not be forgiven?
+Why, too, had Kate turned away from him? He had promised her never to
+drink again; he had kept that promise, and, God helping him, he would
+always keep it, as would any other man who had seen what he had just
+seen to-night. Perhaps he had trespassed in the duel, and yet he would
+fight Willits again were the circumstances the same, and in this view
+Uncle George upheld him. But suppose he had trespassed--suppose he had
+committed a fault--as his father declared--why should not Kate forgive
+him? She had forgiven Willits, who was drunk, and yet she would not
+forgive him, who had not allowed a drop to pass his lips since he had
+given her his promise. How could she, who could do no wrong, expect to
+be forgiven herself when she not only shut her door in his face, but
+left him without a word or a line? How could his father ask forgiveness
+of his God when he would not forgive his son? Why were these two
+different from his mother and his Uncle George, and even old Alec--who
+had nothing but sympathy for him? Perhaps his education and training had
+been at fault. Perhaps, as Richard Horn had said, his standards of
+living were old-fashioned and quixotic.
+
+Only when the gray dawn stole in through the small window of his room
+did the boy fall asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+
+
+Not only Kennedy Square, but Moorlands, rang with accounts of the dinner
+and its consequences. Most of those who were present and who witnessed
+the distressing spectacle had only words of sympathy for the unfortunate
+man--his reverent manner, his contrite tones, and abject humiliation
+disarming their criticism. They felt that some sudden breaking down of
+the barriers of his will, either physical or mental, had led to the
+catastrophe. Richard Horn voiced the sentiments of Poe's sympathizers
+when, in rehearsing the episode the next afternoon at the club, he had
+said:
+
+"His pitiable condition, gentlemen, was not the result of debauchery.
+Poe neither spoke nor acted like a drunken man; he spoke and acted like
+a man whom a devil had overcome. It was pathetic, gentlemen, and it was
+heart-rending--really the most pitiful sight I ever remember witnessing.
+His anguish, his struggle, and his surrender I shall never forget; nor
+will his God--for the prayer came straight from his heart."
+
+"I don't agree with you, Horn," interrupted Clayton. "Poe was plumb
+drunk! It is the infernal corn whiskey he drinks that puts the devil in
+him. It may be he can't get anything else, but it's a damnable
+concoction all the same. Kennedy has about given him up--told me so
+yesterday, and when Kennedy gives a fellow up that's the last of him."
+
+"Then I'm ashamed of Kennedy," retorted Horn. "Any man who can write as
+Poe does should be forgiven, no matter what he does--if he be honest.
+There's nothing so rare as genius in this world, and even if his flame
+does burn from a vile-smelling wick it's a flame, remember!--and one
+that will yet light the ages. If I know anything of the literature of
+our time Poe will live when these rhymers like Mr. Martin Farquhar
+Tupper, whom everybody is talking about, will be forgotten. Poe's
+possessed of a devil, I tell you, who gets the better of him once in a
+while--it did the night of St. George's dinner."
+
+"Very charitable in you, Richard," exclaimed Pancoast, another
+dissenter--"and perhaps it will be just as well for his family, if he
+has any, to accept your view--but, devil or no devil, you must confess,
+Horn, that it was pretty hard on St. George. If the man has any sense of
+refinement--and he must have from the way he writes--the best way out of
+it is for him to own up like a man and say that Guy's barkeeper filled
+him too full of raw whiskey, and that he didn't come to until it was too
+late--that he was very sorry, and wouldn't do it again. That's what I
+would have done, and that's what you, Richard, or any other gentleman,
+would have done."
+
+Others, who got their information second hand, followed the example of
+St. George's guests censuring or excusing the poet in accordance with
+their previous likes or dislikes. The "what-did-I-tell-yous"--Bowdoin
+among them--and there were several--broke into roars of laughter when
+they learned what had happened in the Temple mansion. So did those who
+had not been invited, and who still felt some resentment at St. George's
+oversight.
+
+Another group; and these were also to be found at the club--thought only
+of St. George--old Murdock, voicing their opinions when he said: "Temple
+laid himself out, so I hear, on that dinner, and some of us know what
+that means. And a dinner like that, remember, counts with St. George. In
+the future it will be just as well to draw the line at poets as well as
+actors."
+
+The Lord of Moorlands had no patience with any of their views. Whether
+Poe was a drunkard or not did not concern him in the least. What did
+trouble him was the fact that St. George's cursed independence had made
+him so far forget himself and his own birth and breeding as to place a
+chair at his table for a man in every way beneath him. Hospitality of
+that kind was understandable in men like Kennedy and Latrobe--one the
+leading literary light of his State, whose civic duties brought him in
+contact with all classes--the other a distinguished man of letters as
+well as being a poet, artist, and engineer, who naturally touched the
+sides of many personalities. So, too, might Richard Horn be excused for
+stretching the point--he being a scientist whose duty it was to welcome
+to his home many kinds of people--this man Morse among them, with his
+farcical telegraph; a man in the public eye who seemed to be more or
+less talked about in the press, but of whom he himself knew nothing, but
+why St. George Temple, who in all probability had never read a line of
+Poe's or anybody else's poetry in his life, should give this sot a
+dinner, and why such sane gentlemen as Seymour, Clayton, and Pancoast
+should consider it an honor to touch elbows with him, was as
+unaccountable as it was incredible.
+
+Furthermore--and this is what rankled deepest in his heart--St. George
+was subjecting his only son, Harry, to corrupting influences, and at a
+time, too, when the boy needed the uplifting examples of all that was
+highest in men and manners.
+
+"And you tell me, Alec," he blazed out on hearing the details, "that the
+fellow never appeared until the dinner was all over and then came in
+roaring drunk?"
+
+"Well, sah, I ain't yered nothin' 'bout de roarin', but he suttinly was
+'how-come-ye-so'--fer dey couldn't git 'im upstairs 'less dey toted him
+on dere backs. Marse George Temple gin him his own baid an' sot up mos'
+ob de night, an' dar he stayed fur fo' days till he come to. Dat's what
+Todd done tol' me, an' I reckon Todd knows."
+
+The colonel was in his den when this conversation took place. He was
+generally to be found there since the duel. Often his wife, or Alec, or
+some of his neighbors would surprise him buried in his easy-chair, an
+unopened book in his hand, his eyes staring straight ahead as if trying
+to grasp some problem which repeatedly eluded him. After the episode at
+the club he became more absorbed than ever. It was that episode, indeed,
+which had vexed him most. Not that St. George's tongue-lashing worried
+him--nor did Harry's blank look of amazement linger in his thoughts. St.
+George, he had to confess to himself as he battled with the questions,
+was the soul of honor and had not meant to insult him. It was Temple's
+love for Harry which had incited the quixotic onslaught, for, as he
+knew, St. George dearly loved the boy, and this in itself wiped all
+resentment from the autocrat's heart. As to Harry's attitude toward
+himself, this he continued to reason was only a question of time. That
+young upstart had not learned his lesson yet--a harsh lesson, it was
+true, and one not understood by the world at large--but then the world
+was not responsible for his son's bringing up. When the boy had learned
+it, and was willing to acknowledge the error of his ways, then, perhaps,
+he might kill the fatted calf--that is, of course, if the prodigal
+should return on all fours and with no stilted and untenable ideas about
+his rights--ideas that St. George, of course, was instilling into him
+every chance he got.
+
+So far, however, he had had to admit to himself that while he had kept
+steady watch of the line of hills skirting his mental horizon, up to the
+present moment no young gentleman in a dilapidated suit of clothes,
+inverted waist measure, and lean legs had shown himself above the sky
+line. On the contrary, if all reports were true--and Alec omitted no
+opportunity to keep him advised of Marse Harry's every movement--the
+young Lord of Moorlands was having the time of his life, even if his
+sweetheart had renounced him and his father forced him into exile. Not
+only had he found a home and many comforts at Temple's--being treated as
+an honored guest alongside of such men as Kennedy and Latrobe, Pancoast,
+and the others, but now that St. George had publicly declared him to be
+his heir, these distinctive marks of his approbation were likely to
+continue. Nor could he interfere, even if he wished to--which, of
+course, he did not, and never could so long as he lived. ... "Damn him!"
+etc., etc. And with this the book would drop from his lap and he begin
+pacing the floor, his eyes on the carpet, his broad shoulders bent in
+his anxiety to solve the problem which haunted him night and day:--how
+to get Harry back under his roof and not yield a jot or tittle of his
+pride or will--or, to be more explicit, now that the mountain would not
+come to Mahomet, how could Mahomet get over to the mountain?
+
+His friend and nearest neighbor, John Gorsuch, who was also his man of
+business, opened the way. The financier's clerk had brought him a
+letter, just in by the afternoon coach, and with a glance at its
+contents the shrewd old fellow had at once ordered his horse and set out
+for Moorlands, some two miles distant. Nor did he draw rein or break
+gallop until he threw the lines to a servant beside the lower step of
+the colonel's porch.
+
+"It's the Patapsco again! It will close its doors before the week is
+out!" he cried, striding into the library, where the colonel, who had
+just come in from inspecting a distant field on his estate, sat dusting
+his riding-boots with his handkerchief.
+
+"Going to stop payment! Failed! What the devil do you mean, John?"
+
+"I mean just what I say! Everything has gone to bally-hack in the city.
+Here's a letter I have just received from Harding--he's on the inside,
+and knows. He thinks there's some crooked business about it; they have
+been loaning money on all sorts of brick-bats, he says, and the end has
+come, or will to-morrow. He wanted to post me in time."
+
+The colonel tossed his handkerchief on his writing-table: "Who will be
+hurt?" he asked hurriedly, ignoring the reference to the dishonesty of
+the directors.
+
+"Oh!--a lot of people. Temple, I know, keeps his account there. He was
+short of cash a little while ago, for young Pawson, who has his law
+office in the basement of his house, offered me a mortgage on his
+Kennedy Square property, but I hadn't the money at the time and didn't
+take it. If he got it at last--and he paid heavily for it if he did--the
+way things have been going--and if he put that money in the Patapsco, it
+will be a bad blow to him. Harry, I hear, is with him--so I thought you
+ought to know."
+
+Rutter had given a slight start at the mention of Temple's name among
+the crippled, and a strange glitter still lingered in his eyes.
+
+"Then I presume my son is dependent on a beggar," he exclaimed, rising
+from his seat, stripping off his brown velveteen riding-jacket and
+hanging it in a closet behind his chair.
+
+"Yes, it looks that way."
+
+Gorsuch was watching the colonel closely. He had another purpose in
+making his breakneck ride. He didn't have a dollar in the Patapsco, and
+he knew the colonel had not; he, like himself, was too shrewd a man to
+be bitten twice by the same dog; but he had a large interest in Harry
+and would leave no stone unturned to bring father and son together.
+
+The colonel again threw himself into his chair, stretched out his
+slender, well-turned legs, crooked one of his russet-leather
+riding-boots to be sure the spurs were still in place, and said
+slowly--rather absently, as if the subject did not greatly interest him:
+
+"Patapsco failed and St. George a beggar, eh?--Too bad!--too bad!" Then
+some disturbing suspicions must have entered his head, for he roused
+himself, looked at Gorsuch keenly, and asked in a searching tone: "And
+you came over full tilt, John, to tell me this?"
+
+"I thought you might help. St. George needs all the friends he's got if
+this is true--and it looks to me as if it was," answered Gorsuch in a
+casual way.
+
+Rutter relaxed his gaze and resumed his position. Had his suspicions
+been correct that Gorsuch's interest in Harry was greater than his
+interest in the bank's failure, he would have resented it even from John
+Gorsuch.
+
+Disarmed by the cool, unflinching gaze of his man of business, his mind
+again took up in review all the incidents connected with St. George and
+his son, and what part each had played in them.
+
+That Temple--good friend as he had always been--had thwarted him in
+every attempt to bring about a reconciliation between himself and Harry,
+had been apparent from the very beginning of the difficulty. Even the
+affair at the club showed it. This would have ended quite
+differently--and he had fully intended it should--had not St. George,
+with his cursed officiousness, interfered with his plans. For what he
+had really proposed to himself to do, on that spring morning when he had
+rolled up to the club in his coach, was to mount the steps, ignore his
+son at first, if he should run up against him--(and he had selected the
+very hour when he hoped he would run up against him)--and then, when the
+boy broke down, as he surely must, to forgive him like a gentleman and a
+Rutter, and this, too, before everybody. Seymour would see it--Kate
+would hear of it, and the honor of the Rutters remain unblemished.
+Moreover, this would silence once and for all those gabblers who had
+undertaken to criticise him for what they called his inhumanity in
+banishing this only son when he was only trying to bring up that child
+in the way he should go. Matters seemed to be coming his way. The
+failure of the Patapsco might be his opportunity. St. George would be at
+his wits' end; Harry would be forced to choose between the sidewalk and
+Moorlands, and the old life would go on as before.
+
+All these thoughts coursed through his mind as he leaned back in his
+chair, his lips tight set, the jaw firm and determined--only the lids
+quivering as he mastered the tears that crept to their edges. Now and
+then, in his mental absorption, he would absently cross his legs only to
+straighten them out again, his state of mind an open book to Gorsuch,
+who had followed the same line of reasoning and who had brought the news
+himself that he might the better watch its effect.
+
+"I'm surprised that Temple should select the Patapsco. It has never got
+over its last smash of four years ago," Gorsuch at last remarked. He did
+not intend to let the topic drift away from Harry if he could help it.
+
+"I am not surprised, John. St. George is the best fellow in the world,
+but he never lets anything work but his heart. When you get at the
+bottom of it you will find that he's backed up the bank because some
+poor devil of a teller or clerk, or may be some director, is his friend.
+That's enough for St. George, and further than that he never goes. He's
+thrown away two fortunes now--his grandmother's, which was small but
+sound--and his father's, which if he had attended to it would have kept
+him comfortable all his life."
+
+"You had some words at the club, I heard," interjected Gorsuch.
+
+"No, he had some words, I had a julep," and the colonel smiled grimly.
+
+"But you are still on good terms, are you not?"
+
+"I am, but he isn't. But that is of no consequence. No man in his senses
+would ever get angry with St. George, no matter what he might say or do.
+He hasn't a friend in the world who could be so ill bred. And as to
+calling him out--you would as soon think of challenging your wife. St.
+George talks from his heart, never his head. I have loved him for thirty
+years and know exactly what I am talking about--and yet let me tell you,
+Gorsuch, that with all his qualities--and he is the finest-bred
+gentleman I know--he can come closer to being a natural born fool than
+any man of his years and position in Kennedy Square. This treatment of
+my son--whom I am trying to bring up a gentleman--is one proof of it,
+and this putting all his eggs into one basket--and that a rotten
+basket--is another."
+
+"Well, then--if that is your feeling about it, colonel, why not go and
+see him? As I have said, he needs all the friends he's got at a time
+like this." If he could bring the two men together the boy might come
+home. Not to be able to wave back to Harry as he dashed past on
+Spitfire, had been a privation which the whole settlement had felt.
+"That is, of course," he continued, "if St. George Temple would be
+willing to receive you. He would be--wouldn't he?"
+
+"I don't know, John--and I don't care. If I should make up my mind to
+go--remember, I said 'IF'--I'd go whether he liked it or not."
+
+He HAD made up his mind--had made it up at the precise moment the
+announcement of the bank's failure and St. George's probable ruin had
+dropped from Gorsuch's lips--but none of this must Gorsuch suspect. He
+would still be the doge and Virginius; he alone must be the judge of
+when and how and where he would show leniency. Generations of Rutters
+were behind him--this boy was in the direct line--connecting the past
+with the present--and on Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands, and on no
+other, rested the responsibility of keeping the glorious name
+unsmirched.
+
+
+Todd, with one of the dogs at his heels, opened the door for him,
+smothering a "Gor-a-Mighty!--sumpin's up fo' sho'!" when his hand turned
+the knob. He had heard the clatter of two horses and their sudden
+pull-up outside, and looking out, had read the situation at a glance.
+Old Matthew was holding the reins of both mounts at the moment, for the
+colonel always rode in state. No tying to hitching-posts or tree-boxes,
+or picking up of a loose negro to watch his restless steed when he had a
+stable full of thoroughbreds and quarters packed with grooms.
+
+"Yes, Marse Colonel--yes, sah--Marse George is inside--yes, sah--but
+Marse Harry's out." He had not asked for Harry, but Todd wanted him to
+get all the facts in case there was to be another such scene as black
+John described had taken place at the club on the occasion of the
+colonel's last visit to the Chesapeake.
+
+"Then I'll go in unannounced, and you need not wait, Todd."
+
+St. George was in his arm-chair by the mantel looking over one of his
+heavy ducking-guns when the Lord of Moorlands entered. He was the last
+man in the world he expected to see, but he did not lose his self-
+control or show in any way his surprise. He was host, and Rutter was his
+guest; nothing else counted now.
+
+St. George rose to his feet, laid the gun carefully on the table, and
+with a cold smile on his face--one of extreme courtesy--advanced to
+greet him.
+
+"Ah, Talbot--it has been some time since I had this pleasure. Let me
+draw up a chair for you--I'll ring for Todd and--"
+
+"No, St. George. I prefer to talk to you alone."
+
+"Todd is never an interruption."
+
+"He may be to-day. I have something to say to you--and I don't want
+either to be interrupted or misunderstood. You and I have known each
+other too many years to keep up this quarrel; I am getting rather sick
+of it myself."
+
+St. George shrugged his shoulders, placed the gun carefully in the rack
+by the door, and maintained an attentive attitude. He would either fight
+or make peace, but he must first learn the conditions. In the meantime
+he would hold his peace.
+
+Rutter strode past him to the fireplace, opened his riding-jacket, laid
+his whip on the mantel, and with his hands deep in his breeches pockets
+faced the room and his host, who had again taken his place by the table.
+
+"The fact is, St. George, I have been greatly disturbed of late by
+reports which have reached me about my son. He is with you, I presume?"
+
+St. George nodded.
+
+Rutter waited for a verbal reply, and receiving none, forged on: "Very
+greatly disturbed; so much so that I have made an especial trip from
+Moorlands to call upon you and ascertain their truth."
+
+Again St. George nodded, the smile--one of extreme civility now--still
+on his face. Then he added, flicking some stray grains of tobacco from
+his sleeve with his fingers: "That was very good of you, Talbot--but go
+on--I'm listening."
+
+The colonel's eyes kindled. Temple's perfect repose--something he had
+not expected--was beginning to get on his nerves, He cleared his throat
+impressively and continued, his voice rising in intensity:
+
+"Instead of leading the life of a young man brought up as a gentleman, I
+hear he is consorting with the lowest class of people here in your
+house--people who--"
+
+"--Are my guests," interrupted St. George calmly--loosening the buttons
+of his coat in search of his handkerchief--there being more tobacco on
+his clothes than he had supposed.
+
+"Yes, you have hit it exactly--your guests--and that is another thing I
+have come to tell you, for neither I nor your friends can understand how
+a man of your breeding should want to surround himself with--"
+
+--"Is it necessary that you should understand, Talbot?"--same low,
+incisive but extremely civil voice, almost monotonous in its cadences.
+The cambric was in full play now.
+
+"Of course it is necessary when it affects my own flesh and blood. You
+know as well as I do that this sot, Poe, is not a fit companion for a
+boy raised as my Harry has been--a man picked out of the gutter--his
+family a lot of play-actors--even worse, I hear. A fellow who staggers
+into your house dead drunk and doesn't sober up for a week! It's
+scandalous!"
+
+Again St. George shrugged his shoulders, but one hand was tight shut
+this time, the steel claws protruding, the handkerchief alone saving
+their points from pressing into the palms.
+
+"And is that what you came from Moorlands to tell me, Talbot?" remarked
+St. George casually, adjusting the lapels of his coat.
+
+"Yes!" retorted Rutter--he was fast losing what was left of his
+self-control--"that and some other things! But we will attend to Harry
+first. You gave that boy shelter when--"
+
+"Please state it correctly, Talbot. We can get on better if you stick to
+the facts." The words came slowly, but the enunciation was as perfect as
+if each syllable had been parted with a knife. "I didn't give him
+shelter--I gave him a home--one you denied him. But go on--I prefer to
+hear you out."
+
+The colonel's eyes blazed. He had never seen St. George like this: it
+was Temple's hot outbursts that had made him so easy an adversary in
+their recent disputes.
+
+"And you will please do the same, St. George," he demanded in his most
+top-lofty tone, ignoring his opponent's denial. "You know perfectly well
+I turned him out of Moorlands because he had disgraced his blood, and
+yet you--my life-long friend--have had the bad taste to interfere and
+drag him down still lower, so that now, instead of coming to his senses
+and asking my pardon, he parades himself at the club and at your
+dinners, putting on the airs of an injured man."
+
+St. George drew himself up to his full height.
+
+"Let us change the subject, Talbot, or we will both forget ourselves. If
+you have anything to say to me that will benefit Harry and settle the
+difficulty between him and you, I will meet you more than half-way, but
+I give you fair warning that the apology must come from you. You
+have--if you will permit me to say it in my own house--behaved more like
+a brute than a father. I told you so the night you turned him out in the
+rain for me to take care of, and I told you so again at the club when
+you tried to make a laughing-stock of him before your friends--and now
+I tell you so once more! Come!--let us drop the subject--what may I
+offer you to drink?--you must be rather chilled with your ride in."
+
+Rutter was about to flare out a denial when his better judgment got the
+best of him; some other tactics than the ones he had used must be
+brought into play. So far he had made but little headway against
+Temple's astounding coolness.
+
+"And I am to understand, then, that you are going to keep him here?" he
+demanded, ignoring both his host's criticisms and his proffered
+hospitality.
+
+"I certainly am"--he was abreast of him now, his eyes boring into
+his--"just as long as he wishes to stay, which I hope will be all his
+life, or until you have learned to be decent to him. And by decency, I
+mean companionship, and love, and tenderness--three things which your
+damned, high-toned notions have always deprived him of!" His voice was
+still under control, although the emphasis was unmistakable.
+
+Rutter made a step forward, his eyes flashing, his teeth set:
+
+"You have the impertinence, sir, to charge me with----"
+
+"--Yes!--and it's true and you know it's true!"--the glance, steady as
+a rifle, had not wavered. "No, you needn't work yourself up into a
+passion--and as for your lordly, dictatorial airs, I am past the age
+when they affect me--keep them for your servants. By God!--what a farce
+it all is! Let us talk of something else--I am tired of it!"
+
+The words cut like a whip, but the Lord of Moorlands had come to get his
+son, not to fight St. George. Their sting, however, had completely
+changed his plans. Only the club which Gorsuch had put into his hands
+would count now.
+
+"Yes--a damnable farce!" he thundered, "and one played by a man with
+beggary staring him straight in the face, and yet to hear you talk one
+would think you were a Croesus! You mortgaged this house to get ready
+money, did you not?" He was not sure, but this was no time in which to
+split words.
+
+St. George turned quickly: "Who told you that?"
+
+"Is it true?"
+
+"Yes! Do you suppose I would let Harry sneak around corners to avoid his
+creditors?"
+
+The colonel gave an involuntary start, the blood mounting to the roots
+of his hair, and as suddenly paled:
+
+"You tell me that--you dared to--pay Harry's debts?" he stammered in
+amazement.
+
+"Dared!" retorted St. George, lifting his chin contemptuously. "Really,
+Talbot, you amuse me. When you set that dirty hound Gadgem on his trail,
+what did you expect me to do?--invite the dog to dinner?--or have him
+sleep in the house until I sold furniture enough to get rid of him?"
+
+The colonel leaned back against the mantel's edge as if for support. All
+the fight was out of him. Not only was the situation greatly
+complicated, but he himself was his host's debtor. The seriousness of
+the whole affair confronted him. For a brief instant he gazed at the
+floor, his eyes on the hearthrug, "Have you any money left, St. George?"
+he asked. His voice was subdued enough now. Had he been his solicitor he
+could not have been more concerned.
+
+"Yes, a few thousand," returned St. George. He saw that some unexpected
+shot had hit the colonel, but he did not know he had fired it.
+
+"Left over from the mortgage, I suppose?--less what you paid out for
+Harry?"
+
+"Yes, left over from the mortgage, less what I paid Gadgem," he bridled.
+"If you have brought any more of Harry's bills hand them out. Why the
+devil you ask, Talbot, is beyond my ken, but I have no objection to your
+knowing."
+
+Rutter waved his hand impatiently, with a deprecating gesture; such
+trifles were no longer important.
+
+"You bank with the Patapsco, do you not?" he asked calmly. "Answer me,
+please, and don't think I'm trying to pry into your affairs. The matter
+is much more serious than you seem to think." The tone was so
+sympathetic that St. George looked closer into his antagonist's face,
+trying to read the cause.
+
+"Always with the Patapsco. I have kept my account there for years," he
+rejoined simply. "Why do you want to know?"
+
+"Because it has closed its doors--or will in a few hours. It is
+bankrupt!"
+
+There was no malice in his tone, nor any note of triumph. That St.
+George had beggared himself to pay his son's debts had wiped that clear.
+He was simply announcing a fact that caused him the deepest concern.
+
+St. George's face paled, and for a moment a peculiar choking movement
+started in his throat.
+
+"Bankrupt!--the Patapsco! How do you know?" He had heard some ugly
+rumors at the club a few days before, but had dismissed them as part of
+Harding's croakings.
+
+"John Gorsuch received a letter last night from one of the directors;
+there is no doubt of its truth. I have suspected its condition for some
+time, so has Gorsuch. This brought me here. You see now how impossible
+it is for my son to be any longer a burden on you."
+
+St. George walked slowly across the room and drawing out a chair settled
+himself to collect his thoughts the better;--he had remained standing as
+the better way to terminate the interview should he be compelled to
+exercise that right. The two announcements had come like successive
+blows in the face. If the news of the bank's failure was true he was
+badly, if not hopelessly, crippled--this, however, would wait, as
+nothing he might do could prevent the catastrophe. The other--Harry's
+being a burden to him--must be met at once.
+
+He looked up and caught the colonel's eye scrutinizing his face.
+
+"As to Harry's being a burden," St. George said slowly, his lip curling
+slightly--"that is my affair. As to his remaining here, all I have to
+say is that if a boy is old enough to be compelled to pay his debts he
+is old enough to decide where he will live. You have yourself
+established that rule and it will be carried out to the letter."
+
+Rutter's face hardened: "But you haven't got a dollar in the world to
+spare!"
+
+"That may be, but it doesn't altar the situation; it rather strengthens
+it." He rose from his chair: "I think we are about through now, Talbot,
+and if you will excuse me I'll go down to the bank and see what is the
+matter. I will ring for Todd to bring your hat and coat." He did not
+intend to continue the talk. There had just been uncovered to him a side
+of Talbot Rutter's nature which had shocked him as much as had the
+threatened loss of his money. To use his poverty as a club to force him
+into a position which would be dishonorable was inconceivable in a man
+as well born as his antagonist, but it was true: he could hardly refrain
+from telling him so. He had missed, it may be said, seeing another
+side--his visitor's sympathy for him in his misfortune. That,
+unfortunately, he did not see: fate often plays such tricks with us all.
+
+The colonel stepped in front of him: his eyes had an ugly look in
+them--the note of sympathy was gone.
+
+"One moment, St. George! How long you are going to keep up this fool
+game, I don't know; but my son stays here on one condition, and on one
+condition only, and you might as well understand it now. From this time
+on I pay his board. Do you for one instant suppose I am going to let you
+support him, and you a beggar?"
+
+St. George made a lunge toward the speaker as if to strike him. Had
+Rutter fired point-blank at him he could not have been more astounded.
+For an instant he stood looking into his face, then whirled suddenly and
+swung wide the door.
+
+"May I ask you, Talbot, to leave the room, or shall I? You certainly
+cannot be in your senses to make me a proposition like that. This thing
+has got to come to an end, and NOW! I wish you good-morning."
+
+The colonel lifted his hands in a deprecatory way.
+
+"As you will, St. George."
+
+And without another word the baffled autocrat strode from the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+
+
+There was no one at home when Harry returned except Todd, who, having
+kept his position outside the dining-room door during the heated
+encounter, had missed nothing of the interview. What had puzzled the
+darky--astounded him really--was that no pistol-shot had followed his
+master's denouncement and defiance of the Lord of Moorlands. What had
+puzzled him still more was hearing these same antagonists ten minutes
+later passing the time o' day, St. George bowing low and the colonel
+touching his hat as he passed out and down to where Matthew and his
+horses were waiting.
+
+It was not surprising, therefore, that Todd's recital to Harry came in a
+more or less disjointed and disconnected form.
+
+"You say, Todd," he exclaimed in astonishment, "that my father was
+here!" Our young hero was convinced that the visit did not concern
+himself, as he was no longer an object of interest to any one at home
+except his mother and Alec.
+
+"Dat he was, sah, an' b'ilin' mad. Dey bofe was, on'y Marse George lay
+low an' de colonel purty nigh rid ober de top ob de fence. Fust Marse
+George sass him an' den de colonel sass him back. Purty soon Marse
+George say he gwinter speak his min'--and he call de colonel a brute an'
+den de colonel riz up an' say Marse George was a beggar and a puttin' on
+airs when he didn't hab 'nough money to buy hisse'f a 'tater; an' den
+Marse George r'ared and pitched--Oh I tell ye he ken be mighty sof' and
+persimmony when he's tame--and he's mos' allers dat way--but when his
+dander's up, and it suttinly riz to-day, he kin make de fur fly. Dat's
+de time you wanter git outer de way or you'll git hurted."
+
+"Who did you say was the beggar?" It was all Greek to Harry.
+
+"Why, Marse George was--he was de one what was gwine hongry. De colonel
+'lowed dat de bank was busted an'--"
+
+"What bank?"
+
+"Why de 'Tapsco--whar Marse George keep his money. Ain't you see me
+comin' from dar mos' ebery day?"
+
+"But it hasn't failed, has it?" He was still wondering what the quarrel
+was about.
+
+"Wall, I dunno, but I reckon sumpin's de matter, for no sooner did de
+colonel git on his horse and ride away dan Marse George go git his hat
+and coat hisse'f and make tracks th'ou' de park by de short cut--and you
+know he neber do dat 'cept when he's in a hurry, and den in 'bout a ha'f
+hour he come back ag'in lookin' like he'd seed de yahoo, only he was mad
+plump th'ou'; den he hollered for me quick like, and sont me down
+underneaf yere to Mr. Pawson to know was he in, and he was, and I done
+tol' him, and he's dar now. He ain't neber done sont me down dar 'cept
+once sence I been yere, and dat was de day dat Gadgem man come snuffin'
+roun'. Trouble comin'."
+
+Harry had now begun to take in the situation. It was evidently a matter
+of some moment or Pawson would not have been consulted.
+
+"I'll go down myself, Todd," he said with sudden resolve.
+
+"Better lem'me tell him you're yere, Marse Harry."
+
+"No, I'll go now," and he turned on his heel and descended the front
+steps.
+
+On the street side of the house, level with the bricks, was a door
+opening into a low-ceiled, shabbily furnished room, where in the old
+days General Dorsey Temple, as has been said, shared his toddies with
+his cronies. There he found St. George seated at a long table piled high
+with law books and papers--the top covered with a green baize cloth
+embroidered with mice holes and decorated with ink stains. Beside him
+was a thin, light-haired, young man, with a long, flexible neck and
+abnormally high forehead, over-doming a shrewd but not unkindly face.
+The two were poring over a collection of papers.
+
+The young lawyer rose to his feet, a sickly, deferential smile playing
+along his straight lips. Young aristocrats of Harry's blood and breeding
+did not often darken Pawson's door, and he was extremely anxious that
+his guest should in some way be made aware of his appreciation of that
+fact. St. George did not move, nor did he take any other notice of the
+boy's appearance than to fasten his eyes upon him for a moment in
+recognition of his presence.
+
+But Harry could not wait.
+
+"Todd has just told me, Uncle George, that"--he caught the grave
+expression on Temple's face--"Why!--Uncle George--there isn't anything
+the matter, is there? It isn't true that the--"
+
+St. George raised his head: "What isn't true, Harry?"
+
+"That the Patapsco Bank is in trouble?"
+
+"No, I don't think so. The bank, so far as I know, is all right; it's
+the depositors who are in trouble," and one of his quaint smiles lighted
+up his face.
+
+"Broken!--failed!" cried Harry, still in doubt as to the extent of the
+catastrophe, but wishing to be sympathetic and proportionably astounded
+as any well-bred young man should be when his best friend was unhappy.
+
+"I'm afraid it is, Harry--in fact I know it is--bankrupt in character
+as well as in balances--a bad-smelling, nasty mess, to tell you the
+truth. That's not only my own opinion, but the opinion of every man whom
+I have seen, and there was quite an angry mob when I reached the
+teller's window this morning. That is your own opinion also, is it not,
+Mr. Pawson?--your legal summing up, I mean."
+
+The young attorney stretched out his spare colorless hands; opened wide
+his long, double-jointed fingers; pressed their ten little cushions
+together, and see-sawing the bunch in front of his concave waistcoat,
+answered in his best professional voice:
+
+"As to being bankrupt of funds I should say there was no doubt of that
+being their condition; as to any criminal intent or practices--that, of
+course, gentlemen"--and he shrugged his shoulders in a non-committal,
+non-actionable way--"is not for me to decide."
+
+"But you think it will be months, and perhaps years, before the
+depositors get a penny of their money--do you not?" persisted St.
+George.
+
+Again Pawson performed the sleight-of-hand trick, and again he was
+non-committal--a second shrug alone expressing his views, the
+performance ending by his pushing a wooden chair in the direction of
+Harry, who was still on his feet.
+
+Harry settled himself on its edge and fixed his eyes on his uncle. St.
+George again became absorbed in the several papers, Pawson once more
+assisting him, the visitor having now been duly provided for.
+
+This raking of ashes in the hope of finding something of value
+unscorched was not a pleasant task for the young lawyer. He had, years
+before, conceived the greatest admiration for his landlord and was never
+tired of telling his associates of how kind and considerate St. George
+had always been, and of his patience in the earlier days of his lease,
+Mr. Temple often refusing the rent until he was quite ready to pay it.
+He took a certain pride, too, in living under the same roof, so to
+speak, with one universally known as a gentleman of the old school,
+whose birth, education, and habits made him the standard among his
+fellows--a man without pretence or sham, living a simple and wholesome
+life; with dogs, guns, priceless Madeira and Port, as well as unlimited
+clothes of various patterns adapted to every conceivable service and
+function--to say nothing of his being part of the best society that
+Kennedy Square could afford.
+
+Even to bow to his distinguished landlord as he was descending his front
+steps was in itself one of his greatest pleasures. That he might not
+miss it, he would peer from behind his office shutters until the shapely
+legs of his patron could be seen between the twisted iron railing. Then
+appearing suddenly and with assumed surprise, he would lift his hat with
+so great a flourish that his long, thin arms and body were jerked into
+semaphore angles, his face meanwhile beaming with ill-concealed delight.
+
+Should any one of St. George's personal friends accompany him--men like
+Kennedy, or General Hardisty, or some well-known man from the Eastern
+Shore--one of the Dennises, or Joyneses, or Irvings--the pleasure was
+intensified, the incident being of great professional advantage. "I have
+just met old General Hardisty," he would say--"he was at our house," the
+knowing ones passing a wink around, and the uninitiated having all the
+greater respect and, therefore, all the greater confidence in that
+rising young firm of "Pawson & Pawson, Attorneys and Counsellors at
+Law--Wills drawn and Estates looked after."
+
+That this rarest of gentlemen, of all men in the world, should be made
+the victim of a group of schemers who had really tricked him of almost
+all that was left of his patrimony, and he a member of his own
+profession, was to Pawson one of the great sorrows of his life. That he
+himself had unwittingly helped in its culmination made it all the
+keener. Only a few weeks had passed since that eventful day when St.
+George had sent Todd down to arrange for an interview, an event which
+was followed almost immediately by that gentleman in person. He
+remembered his delight at the honor conferred upon him; he recalled how
+he had spent the whole of that and the next day in the attempt to
+negotiate the mortgage on the old home at a reasonable rate of interest;
+he recalled, too, how he could have lowered the rate had St. George
+allowed him more time. "No, pay it and get rid of them!" St. George had
+said, the "them" being part of the very accounts over which the two were
+poring. And his patron had showed the same impatience when it came to
+placing the money in the bank. Although his own lips were sealed
+professionally by reason of the interests of another client, he had
+begged St. George, almost to the verge of interference, not to give it
+to the Patapsco, until he had been silenced with: "Have them put it to
+my credit, sir. I have known every member of that bank for years."
+
+All these things were, of course, unknown to Harry, the ultimate
+beneficiary. Who had filled the bucket, and how and why, were
+unimportant facts to him. That it was full, and ready for his use,
+brought with it the same sense of pleasure he would have felt on a hot
+day at Moorlands when he had gone to the old well, drawn up the ice-cold
+water, and, plunging in the sweet-smelling gourd, had drank to his
+heart's content.
+
+This was what wells were made for; and so were fathers, and big,
+generous men like his Uncle George, who had dozens of friends ready to
+cram money into his pocket for him to hand over to whoever wanted it and
+without a moment's hesitation--just as Slater had handed him the money
+he needed when Gilbert wanted it in a hurry.
+
+Nor could it be expected that Harry, even with the examination of St.
+George's accounts with the Patapsco and other institutions going on
+under his very eyes, understood fully just what a bank failure really
+meant. Half a dozen banks, he remembered, had gone to smash some few
+years before, sending his father to town one morning at daylight, where
+he stayed for a week, but no change, so far as he could recall, had
+happened because of it at Moorlands. Indeed, his father had bought a new
+coach for his mother the very next week, out of what he had "saved from
+the wreck," so he had told her.
+
+It was not until the hurried overhauling of a mass of papers beneath his
+uncle's hand, and the subsequent finding of a certain stray sheet by
+Pawson, that the boy was aroused to a sense of the gravity of the
+situation. And even then his interest did not become acute until, the
+missing document identified, St. George had turned to Pawson and,
+pointing to an item halfway down the column, had said in a lowered tone,
+as if fearing to be overheard:
+
+"You have the receipts, have you not, for everything on this
+list?--Slater's account too, and Hampson's?"
+
+"They are in the file beside you, sir."
+
+"Well, that's a comfort, anyhow."
+
+"And the balance"--here he examined a small book which lay open beside
+him--"amounting to"--he paused--"is of course locked up in their
+vaults?"
+
+Harry had craned his head in instant attention. His quickened ears had
+caught two familiar names. It was Slater who had loaned him the five
+hundred dollars which he gave to Gilbert, which his father had commended
+him for borrowing; and it was Hampson who had sold him the wretched
+horse that had stumbled and broken his leg and had afterwards to be
+shot.
+
+"Slater, did you say, Uncle George--and Hampson? Aren't they my old
+accounts?"
+
+"Quite right, Mr. Rutter--quite right, sir." St. George tried to stop
+him with a frown, but Pawson's face was turned towards Harry and he
+failed to get the signal. "Quite right, and quite lucky; they were both
+important items in Mr. Gadgem's list, and both checks passed through the
+bank and were paid before the smash came."
+
+The tones of Pawson's voice, the twisting together of his bony hands in
+a sort of satisfied contentment, and the weary look on his uncle's face
+were the opening of so many windows in the boy's brain. At the same
+instant one of those creepy chills common to a man when some hitherto
+undiscovered vista of impending disaster widens out before him, started
+at the base of Harry's spine, crept up his shoulder-blades, shivered
+along his arms, and lost itself in his benumbed fingers. This was
+followed by a lump in his throat that nearly strangled him. He left his
+chair and touched Pawson on the shoulder.
+
+"Does this mean, Mr. Pawson--this money being locked up in the bank
+vaults and not coming out for months--and may be never--does it mean
+that Mr. Temple--well, that Uncle George--won't have enough money to
+live on?" There was an anxious, vibrant tone in Harry's voice that
+aroused St. George to a sense of the boy's share in the calamity and the
+privations he must suffer because of it. Pawson hesitated and was about
+to belittle the gravity of the situation when St. George stopped him.
+
+"Yes--tell him--tell him everything, I have no secrets from Mr. Rutter.
+Stop!--I'll tell him. It means, Harry"--and a brave smile played about
+his lips--"that we will have to live on hog and hominy, may be, or
+pretty nigh it--certainly for a while--not bad, old fellow, when you get
+accustomed to it. Aunt Jemima makes very good hominy and--"
+
+He stopped; the brave smile had faded from his face.
+
+"By Jove!--that's something I didn't think of!--What will I do with the
+dear old woman--It would break her heart--and Todd?"
+
+Here was indeed something on which he had not counted! For him to forego
+the luxuries that enriched his daily life was easy--he had often in his
+hunting trips lived for weeks on sweet potato and a handful of cornmeal,
+and slept on the bare ground with only a blanket over him, but that his
+servants should be reduced to similar privations suggested possibilities
+which appalled him. For the first time since the cruel announcement fell
+from Rutter's lips the real situation, with all that it meant to his own
+future and those dependent upon him, stared him in the face.
+
+He looked up and caught Harry's anxious eyes scanning his own. His
+old-time, unruffled spirit came to his assistance.
+
+"No, son!" he cried in his cheeriest voice, springing to his feet--"no,
+we won't worry. It will all come out right--we'll buckle down to it
+together, you and I. Don't take it too much to heart--we'll get on
+somehow."
+
+But the boy was not reassured; in fact, he had become more anxious than
+ever. Not only did the chill continue, but the lump in his throat grew
+larger every minute.
+
+"But, Uncle George--you told me you borrowed the money to pay those
+bills my father sent me. And will you now have to pay that back as
+well?" He did not ask of whom he had borrowed it, nor on what security,
+nor would either Pawson or his uncle have told him, that being a
+confidential matter.
+
+"Well, that depends, Harry; but we won't have to pay it right away,
+which is one comfort. And then again, I can go back to the law. I have
+yet to make my maiden speech before a jury, but I can do it. Think of
+it!--everybody in tears, the judge mopping his eyes--court-room
+breathless. Oh, you just wait until your old uncle gets on his feet
+before a bench and jury. Come along, old fellow--let us go up into the
+house." Then in a serious tone--his back to Harry--"Pawson, please bring
+the full accounts with you in the morning, and now let me thank you for
+your courtesy. You have been extremely civil, sir, and I appreciate it
+most highly."
+
+When they had reached the front walk and were about to climb the
+immaculate steps, St. George, still determined to divert the boy's
+thoughts from his own financial straits, said with a laugh:
+
+"Todd told you, of course, about your father paying me a visit this
+morning, did he not?"
+
+"Oh, yes!--a most extraordinary account. You must have enjoyed it,"
+replied Harry, trying to fall into his uncle's mood, his heart growing
+heavier every moment. "What did he want?"
+
+One of St. George's heat-lightning smiles played over his face: "He
+wanted two things. He first wanted you, and then he wanted a receipt for
+a month's board--YOUR board, remember! He went away without either."
+
+A new perspective suddenly opened up in Harry's mind; one that had a
+gleam of sunshine athwart it.
+
+"But, Uncle George!" he burst out--"don't forget that my father owes you
+all the money you paid for me! That, of course, will eventually come
+back to you." This came in a tone of great relief, as if the money was
+already in his hand.
+
+St. George's face hardened: "None of it will come back to me," he
+rejoined in a positive tone. "He doesn't owe me one single penny and he
+never will. That money he owes to you. Whatever you may happen to owe me
+can wait until you are able to pay it. And now while I am talking about
+it, there is another thing your father owes you, and that is an humble
+apology, and that he will pay one of these days in tears and agony. You
+are neither a beggar nor a cringing dog, and you never will be so long
+as I can help it!" He stopped, rested his hand on the boy's shoulder,
+and with a quiver in his voice added:
+
+"Your hand, my son. Short commons after this, may be, but we will make
+the fight together."
+
+When the two passed through the front door and stepped into the
+dining-room they found it filled with gentlemen--friends who had heard
+of the crash and who had come either to extend their sympathy or offer
+their bank accounts. They had heard of the catastrophe at the club and
+had instantly left their seats and walked across the park in a body.
+
+To one and all St. George gave a warm pressure of the hand and a bright
+smile. Had he been the master of ceremonies at a state reception he
+could not have been more self-possessed or more gallant; his troubles
+were for himself, never for his guests.
+
+"All in a lifetime--but I am not worrying. The Patapsco pulled out once
+before and it may again. My only regret is that I cannot, at least for a
+time, have as many of you as I would wish under my mahogany. But don't
+let us borrow any trouble; certainly not to-day. Todd, get some glasses
+and bring me that bottle of Madeira--the one there on the sideboard!"
+Here he took the precious fluid from Todd's hand and holding high the
+crusted bottle said with a dry smile--one his friends knew when his
+irony was aroused: "That wine, gentlemen, saw the light at a time when a
+man locked his money in an iron box to keep outside thieves from
+stealing it; to-day he locks his money in a bank's vault and locks the
+thieves in with it. Extraordinary, is it not, how we gentlemen trust
+each other? Here, Todd, draw the cork! ... Slowly. ... Now hand me the
+bottle--yes--Clayton, that's the same wine that you and Kennedy liked
+so much the night we had Mr. Poe with us. It is really about all there
+is left of my father's Black Warrior of 1810. I thought it was all gone,
+but Todd found two more the other day, one of which I sent to Kennedy.
+This is the other. Kennedy writes me he is keeping his until we can
+drink it together. Is everybody's glass full? Then my old toast if you
+will permit me: 'Here's to love and laughter, and every true friend of
+my true friend my own!'"
+
+
+Before the groups had dispersed Harry had the facts in his
+possession--principally from Judge Pancoast, who gave him a full account
+of the bank's collapse, some papers having been handed up to him on the
+bench that morning. Summed up, his uncle was practically ruined--and he,
+Harry, was the cause of it--the innocent cause, perhaps, but the cause
+all the same: but for his father's cruelty and his own debts St. George
+would never have mortgaged his home. That an additional sum--his uncle's
+entire deposit--had been swallowed up in the crash was but part of the
+same misfortune. Poe's lines were true, then--never so true as now:
+
+"Some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed
+faster ..."
+
+This, then, was ever after to be his place in life--to bring misery
+wherever he went.
+
+He caught up his hat and walked through the park beside the judge,
+hoping for some further details of his uncle's present plight and future
+condition, but the only thing his Honor added to what he already knew
+was his wonderment over the fact that St. George, having no immediate
+use for the money except to pay his bills, should have raised so large a
+sum on a mortgage instead of borrowing it from his friends. It was here
+that Harry's heart gave a bound:--no one, then, but his uncle, Pawson,
+and himself knew that he alone was responsible for the catastrophe! That
+his father should have learned of his share in it did not enter the
+boy's head.
+
+Todd answered his knock on his return, and in reply to his inquiry
+informed him that he must not sit up, as "Marse George" had left word
+that he would be detained until late at a meeting of the creditors of
+the bank.
+
+And so the unhappy lad, his supper over, sought his bed and, as had
+occurred more than once before, spent the earlier hours of the night
+gazing at the ceiling and wondering what would become of him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+
+
+With the breaking of the dawn Harry's mind was made up. Before the sun
+was an hour high he had dressed hurriedly, stolen downstairs so as to
+wake no one, and closing the front door softly behind him had taken the
+long path through the park in the direction of the wharves. Once there,
+he made the rounds of the shipping offices from Light Street wharf to
+the Falls--and by the time St. George had finished dressing--certainly
+before he was through his coffee--had entered the name of Henry Rutter
+on two sets of books--one for a position as supercargo and the other,
+should nothing better be open, as common seaman. All he insisted upon
+was that the ship should sail at once. As to the destination, that was
+of no consequence, nor did the length of the voyage make any difference.
+He remembered that his intimate friend, Gilbert, had some months before
+gone as supercargo to China, his father wanting him to see something of
+the world; and if a similar position were open he could, of course, give
+references as to his character--a question the agent asked him--but,
+then, Gilbert had a father to help him. Should no such position be
+available, he would ship before the mast, or serve as cook or cabin-boy,
+or even scullion--but he would not live another day or hour dependent on
+his dear Uncle George, who had impoverished himself in his behalf.
+
+He selected the sea instead of going into the army as a common soldier
+because the sea had always appealed to him. He loved its freedom and its
+dangers. Then again, he was young and strong--could climb like a
+cat--sail a boat--swim--Yes!--the sea was the place! He could get far
+enough away behind its horizons to hide the struggle he must make to
+accomplish the one purpose of his life--the earning of his debt.
+
+Filled with this idea he began to perfect his plans, determining to take
+no one into his confidence until the day before the ship was ready to
+sail. He would then send for his mother and Alec--bring them all down to
+St. George's house and announce his intention. That was the best and
+wisest way. As for Kate--who had now been at home some weeks--he would
+pour out his heart to her in a letter. This was better than an
+interview, which she would doubtless refuse:--a letter she would be
+obliged to read and, perhaps, answer. As for his dear Uncle George--it
+would be like tearing his heart out to leave him, but this wrench had to
+be met and it was best to do it quickly and have done with it.
+
+When this last thought took possession a sudden faintness crept over
+him. How could he leave his uncle? What St. George was to him no one but
+himself knew--father, friend, comrade, adviser--standard of men and
+morals--all and more was his beloved uncle. No thought of his heart but
+he had given him, and never once had he been misunderstood. He could put
+his arm about his uncle's neck as he would about his mother's and not be
+thought effeminate or childish. And the courtesy and dignity and
+fairness with which he had been treated; and the respect St. George
+showed him--and he only a boy: compelling his older men friends to do
+the same. Never letting him feel that any foolish act of his young life
+had been criticised, or that any one had ever thought the less of him
+because of them.
+
+Breakfast over, during which no allusion was made either to what St.
+George had accomplished at the conference of creditors the night before,
+or to Harry's early rising--the boy made his way into the park and took
+the path he loved. It was autumn, and the mild morning air bespoke an
+Indian summer day. Passing beneath the lusty magnolias, which flaunted
+here and there their glossy leaves, he paused under one of the big oaks,
+whose branches, stripped of most of their foliage, still sheltered a
+small, vine-covered arbor where he and Kate had often sat--indeed, it
+was within its cool shade that he had first told her of his love. Here
+he settled himself on a small wooden bench outside the retreat and gave
+his thoughts full rein--not to repine, nor to revive his troubles,
+which he meant to put behind him--but to plan out the letter he was to
+write Kate. This must be clear and convincing and tell the whole story
+of his heart. That he might empty it the better he had chosen this place
+made sacred by her presence. Then again, the park was generally deserted
+at this hour--the hour between the passing of the men of business and
+the coming of the children and nurses--and he would not be interrupted
+--certainly not before this arbor--one off by itself and away from
+passers-by.
+
+He seated himself on the bench, his eyes overlooking the park. All the
+hours he had passed with Kate beneath the wide-spreading trees rose in
+his mind; the day they had read aloud to each other, her pretty feet
+tucked under her so that the dreadful ants couldn't touch her dainty
+stockings; the morning when she was late and he had waited and fumed
+stretching minutes into hours in his impatience; that summer night when
+the two had hidden behind the big oak so that he could kiss her
+good-night and none of the others see.
+
+With these memories stirring, his letter was forgotten, and his head
+dropped upon his breast, as if the weight of all he had lost was greater
+than he could bear. Grasping his walking-stick the tighter he began
+tracing figures in the gravel, his thoughts following each line.
+Suddenly his ears caught the sound of a quick step--one he thought
+strangely familiar.
+
+He raised his eyes.
+
+Kate had passed him and had given no sign of her presence!
+
+He sprang from his seat:
+
+"Kate!--KATE!--Are you going to treat me as my father treated me!
+Don't, please!--You'll never see me again--but don't cut me like that:
+I have never done anything but love you!"
+
+The girl came to a halt, but she did not turn her head, nor did she
+answer.
+
+"Please, Kate--won't you speak to me? It may be the last time I shall
+ever see you. I am going away from Kennedy Square. I was going to write
+you a letter; I came out here to think of what I ought to say--"
+
+She raised her head and half turned her trembling body so that she could
+see his face, her eyes reading his.
+
+"I didn't think you wanted me to speak to you or you would have looked
+up."
+
+"I didn't see you until you had passed. Can't we sit down here?--no one
+will see us."
+
+She suffered him to take her hand and lead her to the bench. There she
+sat, her eyes still searching his face--a wondering, eager look,
+discovering every moment some old remembered spot--an eyebrow, or the
+line at the corner of the mouth, or the round of the cheek--each and
+every one bringing back to her the days that were past and gone never to
+return.
+
+"You are going away?" she said at last--"why? Aren't you happy with
+Uncle George? He would miss you, I am sure." She had let the scarf fall
+from her shoulders as she spoke, bringing into view the full round of
+her exquisite throat. He had caught its flash, but he could not trust
+himself to look the closer.
+
+"Not any more than I shall miss him," he rejoined sadly; "but he has
+lost almost everything he had in the bank failure and I cannot have him
+support me any longer--so I am going to sea."
+
+Kate started forward and laid her hand on his wrist: "To sea!--in a
+ship! Where?" The inquiry came with such suddenness and with so keen a
+note of pain in her voice that Harry's heart gave a bound. It was not
+St. George's losses then she was thinking of--she was thinking of him!
+He raised his eyes quickly and studied her face the closer; then his
+heart sank again. No!--he was wrong--there was only wonder in her gaze;
+only her usual curiosity to know every detail of what was going on
+around her.
+
+With a sigh he resumed his bent position, talking to the end of his
+walking-stick tracing figures in the gravel: "I shall go to Rio,
+probably," he continued in the same despondent tone--"or China. That's
+why I called after you. I sail day after to-morrow--Saturday at the
+latest--and it may be a good many years before I get back again, and so
+I didn't want to go, Kate, without telling you that--that--I forgive you
+for everything you have done to me--and whether you forgive me or not, I
+have kept my promises to you, and I will always keep them as long as I
+live."
+
+"What does dear Uncle George think of it?" She too was addressing the
+end of the stick; gaining time to make up her mind what to do and say.
+The old wound, of course, could not be opened, but she might save him
+and herself from fresh ones.
+
+"He doesn't know I am going; nobody knows but you. I have been a curse
+to every one who has been kind to me, and I am going now where there
+will be nobody but strangers about me. To leave Uncle George breaks my
+heart, but so does it break my heart to leave my precious mother and
+dear old Alec, who cries all the time and has now taken to his bed, I
+hear."
+
+She waited, but her name was not added to the list, nor did he raise his
+head.
+
+"I deserve it all, I suspect," he went on, "or it wouldn't be sent to
+me; but it's over now. If I ever come back it will be when I am
+satisfied with myself; if I never come back, why then my former hard
+luck has followed me--that's all. And now may I talk to you, Kate, as I
+used to do sometimes?" He straightened up, threw down his cane, and
+turned his shoulders so he could look her squarely in the eyes. "If I
+say anything that offends you you can get up and walk away and I won't
+follow you, nor will I add another word. You may never see me again, and
+if it is not what I ought to say, you can forget it all when I am gone.
+Kate!"--he paused, and for a moment it was all he could do to control
+himself. "What I want to tell you first is this--that I haven't had a
+happy day or hour since that night on the stairs in my father's house.
+Whether I was right or wrong I don't know; what followed is what I
+couldn't help, but that part I don't regret, and if any one should
+behave to you as Willits did I would do it over again. What I do regret
+is the pain it has caused you. And now here comes this awful sorrow to
+Uncle George, and I am the cause of that too."
+
+She turned her face quickly, the color leaving her cheeks as if alarmed.
+Had he been behaving badly again? But he swept it away with his next
+sentence.
+
+"You see, my father refused to pay any of the bills I owed and Uncle
+George paid them for me--and I can't have that go on a day
+longer--certainly not now."
+
+Kate's shoulders relaxed. A sigh of relief spent itself; Harry was still
+an honest gentleman, whatever else he might have done!
+
+"And now comes the worst of it, Kate." His voice sank almost to a
+whisper, as if even the birds should not hear this part of his
+confession: "Yes--the worst of it--that I have had all this to
+suffer--all this misery to endure--all these insults of my father to
+bear without you! Always, before, we have talked things out together;
+then you were shut away and I could only look up at your windows and
+rack my brain wondering where you were and what you were doing. It's all
+over now--you love somebody else--but I shall never love anybody else: I
+can't! I don't want to! You are the last thing I kiss before I close my
+eyes; I shut them and kiss only the air--but it is your lips I feel; and
+you are the first thing I open them upon when I wake. It will always be
+so, Kate--you are my body, my soul, and my life. I shall never have you
+again, I know, but I shall have your memory, and that is sweeter and
+more precious to me than all else in the world!"
+
+"Harry!" There was a strange cadence in her voice--not of
+self-defence--not of recrimination--only of overwhelming pity: "Don't
+you think that I too have had my troubles? Do you think it was nothing
+to me to love you as I did and have--" She stopped, drew in her breath
+as if to bolster up some inward resolution, and then with a brave lift
+of the head added: "No, I won't go into that--not to-day."
+
+"Yes--tell me all of it--you can't hurt me more than you have done. But
+you may be right--no, we won't talk of that part of it. And now, Kate, I
+won't ask you to stay any longer; I am glad I saw you--it was better
+than writing." He leaned forward: "Let me look into your face once more,
+won't you?--so I can remember the better. ... Yes--the same dear eyes--
+and the hair growing low on the temples, and the beautiful mouth
+and--No--I sha'n't forget--I never have." He rose from his seat and held
+out his hand: "You'll take it, won't you?--just once--Good-by!"
+
+She had not moved, nor had she grasped his hand; her face was still
+towards him, her whole frame tense, the tears crowding to the lids.
+
+"Sit down, Harry. I can't let you go like this. Tell me something more
+of where you are going. Why must you go to sea? Can't you support
+yourself here?--isn't there something you can get to do? I will see my
+father and find out if--"
+
+"No, you won't." There was a note almost of defiance in his voice--one
+she had never heard before. "I am through with accepting favors from any
+living man. Hereafter I stand in my own shoes, independent of everybody.
+My father is the only person who has a right to give me help, and as he
+refuses absolutely to do anything more than pay my board, I must fall
+back on myself. I didn't see these things in this same way when Uncle
+George paid my debts, or even when he took me into his home as his
+guest, but I do now."
+
+Something gave a little bound in Kate's heart. This manly independence
+was one of the things she had in the old days hoped was in him. What had
+come over her former lover, she wondered.
+
+"And another thing, Kate"--she was listening eagerly--she could not
+believe it was Harry who was speaking--"if you were to tell me this
+moment that you loved me again and would marry me, and I still be as I
+am to-day--outlawed by my father and dependent on charity--I would not
+do it. I can't live on your money, and I have none of my own.
+Furthermore, I owe dear Uncle George his money in such a way that I can
+never pay it back except I earn it, and that I can't do here. To borrow
+it of somebody else to pay him would be more disgraceful still."
+
+Again her heart gave a bound. Her father had followed the opposite
+course, and she knew for a certainty just what some men thought of him,
+and she could as easily recall half a dozen younger men who had that
+very summer been willing to play the same game with herself. Something
+warm and sympathetic struggled up through her reserve.
+
+"Would you stay, Harry, if I asked you to?" she said in almost a
+whisper. She had not meant to put the question quite in that way, but
+somehow it had asked itself.
+
+He looked at her with his soft brown eyes, the long lashes shading their
+tender brilliancy. He had guessed nothing of the newly awakened throb in
+her heart; only his situation stared him in the face, and in this she
+had no controlling interest; nor could she now that she loved somebody
+else.
+
+"No, Kate, it wouldn't alter anything. It would be putting off the day
+when it would all have to be done over again; and then it would be still
+worse because of the hopes it had raised."
+
+"Do you really mean, Harry, that you would not stay if I asked you?" It
+was not her heart which was speaking, but the pride of the woman who had
+always had her own way.
+
+"I certainly do," he answered emphatically, his voice ringing clear.
+"Every day I lose is just so much taken from a decent, independent
+life."
+
+A sudden revulsion of feeling swept through her. This was the last thing
+she had expected from Harry. What had come over him that he should deny
+her anything?--he who had always obeyed her slightest wish. Then a new
+thought entered her head--why should she humble herself to ask any more
+questions? With a quick movement she gained her feet and stood toying
+with her dress, arranging the lace scarf about her throat, tightening
+the wide strings that held her teacup of a bonnet close to her face. She
+raised her eyes and stole a glance at him. The lips were still firmly
+set with the resolve that had tightened them, but his eyes were brimming
+tears.
+
+As suddenly as her pride had risen did it die out. All the tenderness of
+her nature welled up. She made one step in his direction. She was about
+to speak, but he had not moved, nor did his face relax. She saw that
+nothing could shake his resolve; they were as far apart as if the seas
+already rolled between them. She held out her hand, and with that same
+note of infinite pathos which he knew so well when she spoke straight
+from her heart, said as she laid her fingers in his:
+
+"Good-by, and God bless you, Harry."
+
+"Good-by, Kate," he murmured in barely audible tones. "May I--may
+I--kiss you on the forehead, as I always used to do when I left you--"
+
+She bent her head: he leaned over and touched the spot with his lips as
+reverently as a sinner kisses the garment of a saint, then, choking down
+her tears, all her body unstrung, her mind in a whirl, she turned and
+passed out of the park.
+
+
+That same afternoon Kate called her father into her little sitting-room
+at the top of the stairs and shut the door.
+
+"Harry Rutter is going to sea as a common sailor on one of the ships
+leaving here in a couple of days. Can you find out which one?--it may be
+one of your own." He was still perfunctory agent of the line.
+
+"Young Rutter going to sea!"--the nomenclature of "my dear Harry" had
+ended since the colonel had disinherited him. "Well--that is news! I
+suspect that will be the best place for him; then if he plays any of his
+pranks there will be somebody around with a cat-o'-nine-tails to take it
+out of him. Going to sea, is he?"
+
+Kate looked at him with lowered lids, her lips curling slightly, but she
+did not defend the culprit. It was only one of what Prim called his
+"jokes:" he was the last man in the world to wish any such punishment.
+Moreover, she knew her father much better than the Honorable Prim knew
+his daughter, and whenever she had a favor to ask was invariably careful
+not to let his little tea-kettle boil over.
+
+"Only a short time ago, father, you got a berth as supercargo on one of
+my grandfather's ships for Mark Gilbert. Can't you do it for Harry?"
+
+"But, Kate, that was quite a different thing. Mark's father came to me
+and asked it as a special favor." His assumed authority at the shipping
+office rarely extended to the appointing of officers--not when the
+younger partners objected.
+
+"Well, Harry's father won't come to you, nor will Harry; and it isn't a
+different thing. It's exactly the same thing so far as you are
+concerned, and there is a greater reason for Harry, for he is alone in
+the world and he is not used to hard work of any kind, and it is cruel
+to make a common sailor of him."
+
+"Why, I thought Temple was fathering him."
+
+"So Uncle George has, and would always look after him, but Harry is too
+brave and manly to live upon him any longer, now that Uncle George has
+lost most of his money. Will you see Mr. Pendergast, or shall I go down
+to the office?"
+
+Prim mused for a moment. "There may not be a vacancy," he ventured, "but
+I will inquire. The Ranger sails on Friday for the River Plate, and I
+will have Mr. Pendergast come and see me. Supercargoes are of very
+little use, my dear, unless they have had some business training, and
+this young man, of course, has had none at all."
+
+"This young man, indeed!" thought Kate with a sigh, stifling her
+indignation. "Poor Harry!--no one need treat him any longer with even
+common courtesy, now that St. George, his last hold, had been swept
+away."
+
+"I think on the whole I had better attend to it myself," she added with
+some impatience. "I don't want anything to go wrong about it."
+
+"No, I'll see him, Kate; just leave it all to me."
+
+He had already decided what to do--or what he would try to do--when he
+first heard the boy wanted to leave the country. What troubled him was
+what the managing partner of the line might think of the proposition. As
+long as Harry remained at home and within reach any number of things
+might happen--even a return of the old love. With the scapegrace
+half-way around the world some other man might have a chance--Willits,
+especially, who had proved himself in every way worthy of his daughter,
+and who would soon be one of the leading lawyers of the State if he kept
+on.
+
+With the closing of the door upon her father, Kate threw herself upon
+her lounge. One by one the salient features of her interview with Harry
+passed in review: his pleading for some word of comfort; some note of
+forgiveness with which to cheer the hours of his exile.--"You are the
+last thing I kiss before I close my eyes." Then his open defiance of her
+expressed wishes when they conflicted with his own set purpose of going
+away and staying away until he made up his mind to return. While the
+first brought with it a certain contented satisfaction--something she
+had expected and was glad of--the last aroused only indignation and
+revolt. Her brow tightened, and the determination of the old seadog--her
+grandfather Barkeley--played over her countenance. She no longer, then,
+filled Harry's life, controlling all his actions; she no longer inspired
+his hopes. Rather than marry her he would work as a common sailor.
+Yes--he had said so, and with his head up and his voice ringing brave
+and clear. She was proud of him for it--she had never been so proud of
+him--but why no trace of herself in his resolve; except in his allusion
+to the duel, when he said he would do it again should any one insult
+her? It was courteous, of course, for him to feel that way, however much
+she abhorred the system of settling such disputes. But, then, he would
+do that for any other woman--would, no doubt, for some woman he had not
+yet seen. In this he was the son of his father and the same Harry--but
+in everything else he was a changed man--and never more changed than in
+his attitude toward her.
+
+With these thoughts racking her brain she rose from the lounge and began
+pacing the floor, peering out between the curtains of her room, her eyes
+wandering over the park as if she could still see him between the
+branches. Then her mind cleared and the true situation developed
+itself:--for months she had hugged to herself the comforting thought
+that she had only to stretch out her hand and bring him to her feet. He
+had now looked her full in the face and proclaimed his freedom. It was
+as if she had caged a bird and found the door open and the prisoner
+singing in a tree overhead.
+
+
+That same night she sat by her wood fire in her chamber, her old black
+mammy--Mammy Henny--bending close, combing out her marvellous hair. She
+had been studying the coals, watching the little castles pile and fall;
+the quick smothering of slowly fading sparks under a blanket of gray
+ashes, and the wavering, flickering light that died on the curling
+smoke. She had not spoken for a long time, when the old woman roused
+her.
+
+"Whar was you dis mawnin', honey chile? Mister Willits done wait mo'n
+ha'f a hour, den he say he come back an' fetch his sorrel horse wid him
+dis arternoon an' take ye ridin'. But he ain't come--dat is, Ben done
+tol' me so."
+
+"No, mammy," she answered wearily--"I sent him word not to--I didn't
+feel like riding to-day."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+
+
+Over two years have passed away since that mournful night when Harry
+with his hand in St. George's, his voice choking, had declared his
+determination to leave him the next day and seek his fortunes across the
+seas.
+
+It was a cruel blow to Temple, coming as it did on the heels of his own
+disaster, but when the first shock had passed he could but admire the
+lad for his pluck and love him the better for his independence.
+
+"All right, my son," he had said, concealing as best he could his
+intense suffering over the loss of his companion. "I'll try and get
+along. But remember I am here--and the door is always open. I don't
+blame you--I would do the same thing were I in your place. And now about
+Kate--what shall I say to her?"
+
+"Nothing. I said it all this morning. She doesn't love me any more--she
+would have passed me by without speaking had I not called to her. She'll
+be married to Willits before I come back--if I ever do come back. But
+leaving Kate is easier than leaving you. You have stuck to me all the
+way through, and Kate--well--perhaps she hasn't understood--perhaps her
+father has been talking to her--I don't know. Anyhow, it's all over. If
+I had had any doubts about it before, this morning's talk settled it.
+The sea is the best place for me. I can support myself anyway for a
+while until I can help you."
+
+Yes! the boy was right, St. George had said to himself. It was all over
+between them. Kate's reason had triumphed at last. She, perhaps, was not
+to blame. Her experiences had been trying and she was still confronted
+by influences bitterly opposed to Harry, and largely in favor of
+Willits, for, weak specimen as Prim was, he was still her father, and in
+so important a step as her marriage, must naturally exercise authority.
+As for his own influence, that, he realized, had come to an end at their
+last interview: the whole thing, he must admit, was disappointing--
+cruelly so--the keenest disappointment of his life.
+
+Many a night since he bid Harry good-by had he sat alone by that same
+fire, his dogs his only companions, the boy's words ringing in his ears:
+"Leaving Kate is easier than leaving you!" Had it been the other way and
+he the exile, it would have been nearer the truth, he often thought, for
+nothing in his whole life had left so great a void in his heart as the
+loss of the boy he loved. Not that he was ever completely disheartened;
+that was not his nature; there was always daylight ahead--the day when
+Harry would come back and their old life begin again. With this in store
+for him he had led his life as best he could, visiting his friends in
+the country, entertaining in a simple, inexpensive way, hunting at
+Wesley, where he and Peggy Coston would exchange confidences and funny
+stories; dining out; fishing in the early spring; getting poorer and
+poorer in pocket, and yet never complaining, his philosophy being that
+it would be brighter in the morning, and it always was--to him.
+
+And yet if the truth be told his own situation had not improved--in
+fact, it had grown steadily worse. Only one payment of interest had been
+made on the mortgage and the owner was already threatening foreclosure
+proceedings. Pawson's intervention alone had staved off the fatal climax
+by promising the holder to keep the loan alive by the collection of some
+old debts--borrowed money and the like--due St. George for years and
+which his good nature had allowed to run on indefinitely until some of
+them were practically outlawed. Indeed it was only through resources
+like this, in all of which Pawson helped, and with the collecting of
+some small ground rents, that kept Todd and Jemima in their places and
+the larder comfortably filled. As to the bank--there was still hope that
+some small percentage would be paid the depositors, it being the general
+opinion that the directors were personally liable because of the
+irregularities which the smash had uncovered--but this would take
+months, if not years, to work out.
+
+His greatest comfort was in the wanderer's letters. These he would watch
+for with the eagerness of a girl hungry for news of her distant lover.
+For the first few months these came by every possible mail, most of them
+directed to himself; others to his mother, Mrs. Rutter driving in from
+Moorlands to compare notes with St. George. Then, as the boy made his
+way further into the interior the intervals were greater--sometimes a
+month passed without news of him.
+
+"We are short-handed," he wrote St. George, "owing to fever on the
+voyage out on the Ranger, and though I am supercargo and sit at the
+captain's table, I have to turn to and work like any of the others--fine
+exercise, but my hands are cracked and blistered and full of tar. I'll
+have to wear gloves the next time I dine with you."
+
+Not a word of this to his mother--no such hardships for her tender ears:
+
+"Tell me about Kate, mother"--this from Rio--"how she looks; what she
+says; does she ever mention my name? My love to Alec. Is Matthew still
+caring for Spitfire, or has my father sold her?" Then followed the line:
+"Give my father my respectful regards; I would send my love, but he no
+longer cares for it."
+
+The dear lady did not deliver the message. Indeed Harry's departure had
+so widened the breach between the colonel and herself that they
+practically occupied different parts of the house as far removed from
+each other as possible. She had denounced him first to his face for the
+boy's self-imposed exile, and again behind his back to her intimates.
+Nor did her resolve waver even when the colonel was thrown from his
+horse and so badly hurt that his eyesight was greatly impaired. "It is a
+judgment on you," she had said, drawing her frail body up to its full
+height. "You will now learn what other people suffer," and would have
+kept on upstairs to her own room had not her heart softened at his
+helplessness--a new role for the colonel.
+
+He had made no answer at the time: he never answered her back. She was
+too frail to be angry with, and then she was right about his being the
+cause of her suffering--the first cause of it, at least. He had not yet
+arrived at the point where he censured himself for all that had
+happened. In fact since Harry's sudden exit, made without a word to
+anybody at Moorlands except his mother and Alec, who went to town on a
+hurry message,--a slight which cut him to the quick--he had steadily
+laid the blame on everybody else connected with the affair;--generally
+on St. George for his interference in his peace-making programme at the
+club and his refusal, when ruined financially, to send the boy back to
+him in an humble and contrite spirit. Neither had he recovered from the
+wrath he had felt when, having sent John Gorsuch to ascertain from St.
+George the amount of money he had paid out for his son, Temple had
+politely sent Gorsuch, in charge of Todd, downstairs to Pawson, who in
+turn, after listening to Todd's whispered message, had with equal
+politeness shown Gorsuch the door, the colonel's signed check--the
+amount unfilled--still in Gorsuch's pocket.
+
+It was only when the Lord of Moorlands went into town to spend an hour
+or so with Kate--and he was a frequent visitor prior to his
+accident--that his old manner returned. He loved the girl dearly and was
+never tired of talking to her. She was the only woman who would listen
+when he poured out his heart.
+
+And Kate always welcomed him gladly. She liked strong, decided men even
+if they sometimes erred in their conclusions. Her grandfather, old
+Captain Barkeley, had had the same masterfulness. He had been in
+absolute command in his earlier years, and he had kept in command all
+his life. His word was law, and he was generally right. She was twelve
+years old when he died, and had, therefore, ample opportunity to know.
+It was her grandfather's strong personality, in fact, which had given
+her so clear an idea of her father's many weaknesses. Rutter, she felt,
+was a combination of both Barkeley and Prim--forceful and yet warped by
+prejudices; dominating yet intolerant; able to do big things and
+contented with little ones. It was forcefulness, despite his many
+shortcomings, which most appealed to her.
+
+Moreover, she saw much of Harry in him. It was that which made her so
+willing to listen--she continually comparing the father to the son.
+These comparisons were invariably made in a circle, beginning at
+Rutter's brown eyes, taking in his features and peculiarities--many of
+them reproduced in his son's--such as the firm set of the lips and the
+square line of the chin--and ending, quite naturally, with the brown
+orbs again. While Harry's matched the color and shape, and often the
+fierce glare of the father's, they could also, she said to herself,
+shine with the soft light of the mother's. It was from the mother's
+side, then, that there came the willingness to yield to whatever tempted
+him--it may be to drink--to a false sense of honor--to herself: Harry
+being her slave instead of her master. And the other men around her--so
+far as yielding was concerned (here her brow would tighten and her lips
+straighten)--were no better. Even Uncle George must take her own "No"
+for an answer and believe it when she meant quite a different thing. And
+once more would her soul break out in revolt over the web in which she
+had become entangled, and once more would she cry herself to sleep.
+
+Nobody but her old black mammy knew how tragic had been her sufferings,
+how many bitter hours she had passed, nor how many bitter tears she had
+shed. Yet even old Henny could not comfort her, nor was there any one
+else to whom the girl could pour out her heart. She had, it is true,
+kept up her intimacy with her Uncle George--hardly a week passed that
+she was not a visitor at his house or he at hers--but they had long
+since refrained from discussing Harry. Not because he did not want to
+talk about him, but because she would not let him--Of course not!
+
+To Richard Horn, however, strange to say, she often turned--not so much
+for confidences as for a broader understanding of life. The thoughtful
+inventor was not so hedged about by social restrictions, and would break
+out in spontaneous admiration of Harry, saying with a decisive nod of
+his head, "A fine, splendid young fellow, my dear Kate; I recognized it
+first at St. George's dinner to Mr. Poe, and if I may say so, a
+much-abused young man whose only sin is that he, like many another about
+us, has been born under a waning star in a sky full of murky clouds; one
+that the fresh breeze of a new civilization will some day clear away"--a
+deduction which Kate could not quite grasp, but which comforted her
+greatly.
+
+It delighted her, too, to hear him talk of the notable occurrences
+taking place about them. "You are wonderfully intelligent, my dear," he
+had said to her on one occasion, "and should miss nothing of the
+developments that are going on about us;" and in proof of it had the
+very next day taken her to an exhibition of Mr. Morse's new telegraph,
+given at the Institute, at which two operators, each with an instrument,
+the men in sight of each other, but too far apart to be in collusion,
+were sending and answering the messages through wires stretched around
+the hall. She, at Richard's suggestion, had written a message herself,
+which she handed to the nearest operator who had ticked it to his
+fellow, and who at once read it to the audience. Even then many doubting
+Thomases had cried out "Collusion," until Richard, rising in his seat,
+had not only endorsed the truth of the reading, but explained the
+invention, his statement silencing all opposition because of his
+well-known standing and knowledge of kindred sciences.
+
+Richard's readings also, from which Kate was never absent, and which had
+now been resumed at his own house, greatly interested her. These of late
+had been devoted to many of Poe's earlier poems and later tales, for
+despite the scene at St. George's the inventor had never ceased to
+believe in the poet.
+
+And so with these occupations, studies, investigations, and social
+pleasures--she never missing a ball or party (Willits always managing to
+be with her)--and the spending of the summer months at the Red Sulphur,
+where she had been pursued by half a dozen admirers--one a titled
+Englishman--had the days and hours of the years of Harry's absence
+passed slowly away.
+
+At the end of the second winter a slight change occurred in the monotony
+of her life. Her constant, unwavering devotee, Langdon Willits, fell ill
+and had to be taken to the Eastern Shore, where the same old lot of
+bandages--that is of the same pattern--and the same loyal sister were
+impressed into service to nurse him back to health. The furrow Harry's
+bullet had ploughed in his head still troubled him at times, especially
+in the hot weather, and a horseback ride beside Kate one August day,
+with the heat in the nineties, had started the subsoil of his cranium to
+aching with such vehemence that Teackle had promptly packed it in ice
+and ten days later its owner in blankets and had put them both aboard
+the bay boat bound for the Eastern Shore.
+
+Whether this new irritant--and everything seemed to annoy her now--had
+begun to tell on our beautiful Kate, or whether the gayety of the winter
+both at home and in Washington, where she had spent some weeks during
+the season, had tired her out, certain it was that when the spring came
+the life had gone out of her step and the color from her cheeks. Mammy
+Henny had noticed it and had coddled her the more, crooning and petting
+her; and her father had noticed it and had begun to be anxious, and at
+last St. George had stalked in and cried out in that breezy, joyous way
+of his that nothing daunted:
+
+"Here, you sweetheart!--what have you been doing to your cheeks--all the
+roses out of them and pale as two lilies--and you never out of bed until
+twelve o'clock in the day and looking then as if you hadn't had a wink
+of sleep all night. Not a word out of you, Seymour, until I've finished.
+I'm going to take Kate down to Tom Coston's and keep her there till she
+gets well. Too many stuffy balls--too many late suppers--oyster roasts
+and high doings. None of that at Tom's. Up at six and to bed at ten.
+I've just had a letter from him and dear Peggy is crazy to have us come.
+Take your mare along, Kate, and you won't lack fresh air. Now what do
+you say, Seymour?"
+
+Of course the Honorable Prim bobbed his honorable head and said he had
+been worried himself over Kate's loss of appetite, and that if Temple
+would, etc., etc.--he would--etc., etc.--and so Mammy Henny began to
+get pink and white and other fluffy things together, and Ben, with Todd
+to help, led Joan, her own beloved saddle horse, down to the dock and
+saw that she was safely lodged between decks, and then up came a coach
+(all this was two days later) and my lady drove off with two hair trunks
+in front and a French bonnet box behind--St. George beside her, and fat
+Mammy Henny in white kerchief and red bandanna, opposite, and Todd in
+one of St. George's old shooting-jackets on the box next the driver,
+with his feet on two of the dogs, the others having been loaned to a
+friend.
+
+And it was a great leave-taking when the party reached the wharf. Not
+only were three or four of her girl friends present, but a dozen or more
+of the old merchants forsook their desks, when the coach unlimbered,
+most of them crossing the cobbles--some bare-headed, and all of them in
+high stocks and swallow-tail coats--pens behind their ears, spectacles
+on their pates--to bid the young princess good-by.
+
+For Kate was still "our Kate," in the widest and broadest sense and the
+pride and joy of all who knew her, and many who didn't. That she had a
+dozen beaux--and that some of them had tried to bore holes in each other
+for love of her; and that one of them was now a wanderer and another in
+a state of collapse, if report were true--was quite as it should be. Men
+had died for women a hundred times less worthy and a thousand times less
+beautiful, and men would die of love again. When at last she made up her
+mind she would choose the right man, and in the meantime God bless her
+for just being alive.
+
+And she was never more alive or more charming than to-day.
+
+"Oh, how delightful of you, Mr. Murdoch, and you too, Mr. Bowdoin--and
+Max--and all of you, to cross those wretched stones. No, wait, I'll come
+to you--" she had called out, when with a stamp of her little feet she
+had shaken the pleats from her skirt--adding when they had all kissed
+her hand in turn--"Yes--I am going down to be dairy-maid at Peggy
+Coston's," at which the bald-headed old fellows, with their hands
+upraised in protest at so great a sacrilege, bowed to the ground, their
+fingers on their ruffled shirt-fronts, and the younger ones lifted their
+furry hats and kept them in the air until she had crossed the gang-plank
+and Todd and Mammy Henny, and Ben who had come to help, lost their
+several breaths getting the impatient dogs and baggage aboard--and so
+she sailed away with Uncle George as chaperon, the whole party throwing
+kisses back and forth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+
+
+Their reception at Wesley, the ancestral home of the Costons, although
+it was late at night when they arrived, was none the less joyous. Peggy
+was the first to welcome the invalid, and Tom was not far behind.
+
+"Give her to me, St. George," bubbled Peggy, enfolding the girl in her
+arms. "You blessed thing! Oh, how glad I am to get hold of you! They
+told me you were ill, child--not a word of truth in it! No, Mr. Coston,
+you sha'n't even have one of her little fingers until I get through
+loving her. What's your mammy's name--Henny? Well, Henny, you take Miss
+Kate's things into her room--that one at the top of the stairs."
+
+And then the Honorable Tom Coston said he'd be doggoned if he was going
+to wait another minute, and he didn't--for Kate kissed him on both
+cheeks and gave him her father's message, congratulating him on his
+appointment as judge, and thanking him in advance for all the kindness
+he would show his daughter.
+
+But it was not until she awoke next morning and looked out between the
+posts of her high bedstead through the small, wide-open window
+overlooking the bay that her heart gave the first bound of real
+gladness. She loved the sky and the dash of salt air, laden now with the
+perfume of budding fruit trees, that blew straight in from the sea. She
+loved, too, the stir and sough of the creaking pines and the cheery
+calls from the barnyard. Here she could get her mind settled; here, too,
+she could forget all the little things that had bothered her--there
+would be no more invitations to accept or decline; no promises she must
+keep. She and her Uncle George could have one long holiday--she needed
+it and, goodness knows, he needed it after all his troubles--and they
+would begin as soon as breakfast was over. And they did--the dogs
+plunging ahead, the two hand in hand, St. George, guide and philosopher,
+pointing out this and that characteristic feature of the once famous
+estate and dilating on its past glory.
+
+"Even in my father's day," he continued, his face lighting up, "it was
+one of the great show places of the county. The stables held twenty
+horses and a coach, besides no end of gigs and carryalls. This broad
+road on which we walk was lined with flower-beds and shaded by
+live-oaks. Over there, near that little grove, were three great barns
+and lesser out-buildings, besides the negro quarters, smoke-houses, and
+hay-ricks. Really a wonderful place in its day, Kate."
+
+Then he went on to tell of how the verandas were shaded with
+honeysuckles, and the halls, drawing-rooms, and dining-room crowded
+with furniture; how there were yellow damask curtains, and screens, and
+hair-cloth sofas and a harmonicon of musical glasses which was played by
+wetting one's fingers in a bowl of water and passing them over the
+rims--he had played on it himself when a boy; and slaves galore--nearly
+one hundred of them, not to mention a thousand acres of tillable land to
+plough and harrow, as well as sheep, oxen, pigs, chickens,
+ducks--everything that a man of wealth and position might have had in
+the old days, and about every one of which St. George had a memory.
+
+Then when Tom's father, who was the sole heir, took charge (here his
+voice dropped to a whisper) dissolution proceedings set in--and Tom
+finished them! and St. George sighed heavily as he pointed out the
+changes:--the quarters in ruins, the stables falling to pieces, the
+gates tied up with strings or swinging loose; and the flocks, herds, and
+live-stock things of the past. Nor had a negro been left--none Tom
+really owned: one by one they had been sold or hired out, or gone off
+nobody knew where, he being too lazy, or too indifferent, or too
+good-natured, to hunt them up. The house, as Kate had seen, was equally
+neglected. Even what remained of the old furniture was on its last
+legs--the curtains patched, or in shreds--the carpets worn into holes.
+
+Kate listened eagerly, but she did not sigh. It was all charming to her
+in the soft spring sunshine, the air a perfume, the birds singing, the
+blossoms bursting, the peach-trees anthems of praise--and best of all
+her dear Uncle George strolling at her side. And then everything was so
+clean and fresh and sweet in every nook and corner of the tumble-down
+house. Peggy, as she soon discovered, looked after that--in fact Peggy
+looked after everything that required looking after--and everything
+did--including the judge. Mr. Coston was tired, Peggy would say, or Mr.
+Coston had not been very well, so she just did it herself instead of
+bothering him. Since his promotion it was generally "the judge" who was
+too tired, being absorbed in his court duties, etc., etc. But it always
+came with a laugh, and it was always genuine, for to wait upon him and
+look after him and minister to him was her highest happiness.
+
+Good for nothing as he would have been to some women--unpractical,
+lazy--a man few sensible wives would have put up with--Peggy adored him;
+and so did his children adore him, and so, for that matter, did his
+neighbors, many of whom, although they ridiculed him behind his back,
+could never escape the charm of his personality whenever they sat beside
+his rocking-chair.
+
+This chair--the only comfortable chair in the house, by the way--had, in
+his less distinguished days, been his throne. In it he would sit all day
+long, cutting and whittling, filing and polishing curious trinkets of
+tortoise-shell for watch-guards and tiny baskets made of cherry-stones,
+cunningly wrought and finished. He was an expert, too, in corn-cob
+pipes, which he carved for all his friends; and pin-wheels for
+everybody's children. When it came, however, to such matters as a
+missing hinge to the front door, a brick under a tottering chimney, the
+straightening of a falling fence, the repairing of a loose lock on the
+smoke-house--or even the care of the family carryall, which despite its
+great age and infirmities was often left out in the rain to rust and
+ruin--these things must, of course, wait until the overworked father of
+the house found time to look after them.
+
+The children loved him the most. They asked for nothing better than to
+fix him in his big chair by the fender, throw upon the fire a basket of
+bark chips from the wood-yard, and enough pitch-pine knots to wake them
+up, and after filling his pipe and lighting it, snuggle close--every
+bend and curve of the wide-armed splint-bottomed comfort packed full,
+all waiting to hear him tell one of his stories. Sometimes it was the
+tale of the fish and the cuff-button--how he once dropped his
+sleeve-link overboard, and how a year afterward he was in a shallop on
+the Broadwater fishing for rockflsh when he caught a splendid fellow,
+which when Aunt Patience cleaned--(here his voice would drop to a
+whisper)--"What do you think!--why out popped the sleeve-link that was
+in his cuff this minute!" And for the hundredth time the bit of gold
+would be examined by each child in turn. Or it was the witch
+story--about the Yahoo wild man with great horns and a lashing tail, who
+lived in the swamp and went howling and prowling about for plunder and
+prey. (This was always given with a low, prolonged growl, like a dog in
+pain--all the children shuddering.) And then followed the oft-told tale
+of how this same terrible Yahoo once came up with Hagar, who was riding
+a witch pony to get to the witches' dance in the cane-brake, and how he
+made off with her to the swamp, where she had had to cook for
+him--ever--ever--ever since. (Long-drawn breath, showing that all was
+over for that day at least.)
+
+Todd got the true inwardness of the situation before he had been many
+days at Wesley: for the scene with the children was often repeated when
+court was not in session.
+
+"Fo' Gawd, Marse George, hab you had time to watch dat gemman, de jedge?
+Dey do say he's sumpin' great, but I tell ye he's dat lazy a fly stuck
+in 'lasses 'd pass him on de road."
+
+St. George laughed heartily in reply, but he did not reprimand him.
+
+"What makes you think so, Todd?"
+
+"Can't help thinkin' so. I wuz standin' by de po'ch yisterday holdin'
+Miss Kate's mare, when I yere de mistis ask de jedge ter go out an' git
+'er some kindlin' f'om de wood-pile. He sot a-rockin' hisse'f in dat big
+cheer ob his'n an' I yered him say--'Yes, in a minute,' but he didn't
+move. Den she holler ag'in at him an' still he rock hisse'f, sayin' he's
+comin'. Den, fust thing I knowed out she come to de woodpile an' git it
+herse'f, an' den when she pass him wid 'er arms full o' wood he look up
+an' say--'Peggy, come yere an' kiss me--I dunno what we'd do widout
+ye--you'se de Lawd's anointed, sho'.'"
+
+Kate got no end of amusement out of him, and would often walk with him
+to court that she might listen to his drolleries--especially his queer
+views of life--the simplest and most unaffected to which she had ever
+bent her ears. Now and then, as time went on, despite her good-natured
+toleration of his want of independence--he being always dominated by his
+wife--she chanced, to her great surprise, upon some nuggets of hard
+common-sense of so high an assay that they might really be graded as
+wisdom--his analysis of men and women being particularly surprising.
+Those little twinkling, and sometimes sleepy, eyes of his, now that she
+began to study him the closer, reminded her of the unreadable eyes of an
+elephant she had once seen--eyes that presaged nothing but inertia,
+until whack went the trunk and over toppled the boy who had teased him.
+
+And with this new discovery there developed at last a certain respect
+for the lazy, good-natured, droll old man. Opinions which she had
+heretofore laughed at suddenly became of value; criticisms which she had
+passed over in silence seemed worthy of further consideration.
+
+Peggy, however, fitted into all the tender places of her heart. She had
+never known her own mother; all she remembered was a face bending close
+and a soft hand that tucked in the coverlet one night when she couldn't
+sleep. The memory had haunted her from the days of her childhood--clear
+and distinct, with every detail in place. Had there been light enough in
+her mother's bed-room, she was sure she could have added the dear face
+itself to her recollection. Plump, full-bosomed, rosy-cheeked Peggy
+(fifteen years younger than Tom) supplied the touch and voice, and all
+the tenderness as well, that these sad memories recalled, and all that
+the motherless girl had yearned for.
+
+And the simple, uneventful life--one without restraints of any kind,
+greatly satisfied her: so different from her own at home with Prim as
+Chief Regulator. Everybody, to her delight, did as they pleased, each
+one following the bent of his or her inclination. St. George was out at
+daybreak in the duck-blinds, or, breakfast over, roaming the fields with
+his dogs, Todd a close attendant. The judge would stroll over to court
+an hour or more late, only to find an equally careless and contented
+group blocking up the door--"po' white trash" most of them, each one
+with a grievance. Whenever St. George accompanied him, and he often did,
+his Honor would spend even less time on the bench--cutting short both
+ends of the session, Temple laughing himself sore over the judge's
+decisions.
+
+"And he stole yo' shoat and never paid for him?" he heard his honor say
+one day in a hog case, where two farmers who had been waiting hours for
+Tom's coming were plaintiff and defendant. "How did you know it was yo'
+shoat--did you mark him?"
+
+"No, suh."
+
+"Tie a tag around his neck?"
+
+"No, suh."
+
+"Well, you just keep yo' hogs inside yo' lot. Too many loose hogs
+runnin' 'round. Case is dismissed and co't is adjourned for the day,"
+which, while very poor law, was good common-sense, stray hogs on the
+public highway having become a nuisance.
+
+With these kindly examples before her, Kate soon fell into the ways of
+the house. If she did not wish to get up she lay abed and Peggy brought
+her breakfast with her own hands. If, when she did leave her bed, she
+went about in pussy-slippers and a loose gown of lace and frills without
+her stays, Peggy's only protest was against her wearing anything
+else--so adorable was she. When this happy, dreamy indolence began to
+pall upon her--and she could not stand it for long--she would be up at
+sunrise helping Peggy wash and dress her frolicsome children or get them
+off to school, and this done, would assist in the housework--even
+rolling the pastry with her own delicate palms, or sitting beside the
+bubbling, spontaneous woman, needle in hand, aiding with the family
+mending--while Peggy, glad of the companionship, would sit with ears
+open, her mind alert, probing--probing--trying to read the heart of the
+girl whom she loved the better every day. And so there had crept into
+Kate's heart a new peace that was as fresh sap to a dying plant,
+bringing the blossoms to her cheeks and the spring of wind-blown
+branches to her step.
+
+Then one fine morning, to the astonishment of every one, and greatly to
+Todd's disgust, no less a person than Mr. Langdon Willits of "Oak Hill"
+(distant three miles away) dismounted at Coston's front porch, and
+throwing the reins to the waiting darky, stretched his convalescent, but
+still shaky, legs in the direction of the living-room, there to await
+the arrival of "Miss Seymour of Kennedy Square," who, so he informed
+Todd, "expected him."
+
+Todd scraped a foot respectfully in answer, touched his cocoanut of a
+head with his monkey claw of a finger, waited until the broad back of
+the red-headed gentleman had been swallowed up by the open door, and
+then indulged in this soliloquy:
+
+"Funny de way dem bullets hab o' missin' folks. Des a leetle furder down
+an' dere wouldn't 'a' been none o' dis yere foolishness. Pity Marse
+Harry hadn't practised some mo'. Ef he had ter do it ag'in I reckon he'd
+pink him so he neber be cavortin' 'roun' like he is now."
+
+Willits's sudden appearance filled St. George with ill-concealed
+anxiety. He did not believe in this parade of invalidism, nor did he
+like Kate's encouraging smile when she met him--and there was no
+question that she did smile--and, more portentous still, that she
+enjoyed it. Other things, too, she grew to enjoy, especially the long
+rides in the woods and over to the broad water. For Willits's health
+after a few days of the sunshine of Kate's companionship had undergone
+so renovating a process that the sorrel horse now arrived at the porch
+almost every day, whereupon Kate's Joan would be led out, and the
+smiled-upon gentleman in English riding-boots and brown velvet jacket
+and our gracious lady in Lincoln green habit with wide hat and sweeping
+plume would mount their steeds and be lost among the pines.
+
+Indeed, to be exact, half of Kate's time was now spent in the saddle,
+Willits riding beside her. And with each day's outing a new and, to St.
+George, a more disturbing intimacy appeared to be growing between them.
+Now it was Willits's sister who had to be considered and especially
+invited to Wesley--a thin wisp of a woman with tortoise-shell sidecombs
+and bunches of dry curls, who always dressed in shiny black silk and
+whose only ornament was her mother's hair set in a breastpin; or it was
+his father by whom she must sit when he came over in his gig--a bluff,
+hearty man who generally wore a red waistcoat with big bone buttons and
+high boots with tassels in front.
+
+This last confidential relation, when the manners and bearing of the
+elder man came under his notice, seemed to St. George the most
+unaccountable of all. Departures from the established code always jarred
+upon him, and the gentleman in the red waistcoat and tasselled boots
+often wandered so far afield that he invariably set St. George's teeth
+on edge. Although he had never met Kate before, he called her by her
+first name after the first ten minutes of their acquaintance--his son,
+he explained, having done nothing but sound her praises for the past two
+years, an excuse which carried no weight in gentleman George's mind
+because of its additional familiarity. He had never dared, he knew, to
+extend that familiarity to Peggy--it had always been "Mrs. Coston" to
+her and it had always been "Mr. Coston" to Tom, and it was now "your
+Honor" or "judge" to the dispenser of justice. For though the owner of
+Oak Hill lived within a few miles of the tumble-down remnant that
+sheltered the Costons; and though he had fifty servants to their one, or
+half a one--and broad acres in proportion, to say nothing of flocks and
+herds--St. George had always been aware that he seldom crossed their
+porch steps or they his. That little affair of some fifty or more years
+ago was still remembered, and the children of people who did that sort
+of thing must, of course, pay the penalty. Even Peggy never failed to
+draw the line. "Very nice people, my dear," he had heard her say to Kate
+one day when the subject of the younger man's family had come up. "Mr.
+Willits senior is a fine, open-hearted man, and does a great deal of
+good in the county with his money--quite a politician, and they do say
+has a fair chance of some time being governor of the State. But very few
+of us about here would want to marry into the family, all the same. Oh
+no, my dear Kate, of course there was nothing against his grandmother.
+She was a very nice woman, I believe, and I've often heard my own mother
+speak of her. Her father came from Albemarle Sound, if I am right, and
+was old John Willits's overseer. The girl was his daughter."
+
+Kate had made no answer. Who Langdon Willits's grandmother was, or
+whether he had any grandmother at all, did not concern her in the least.
+She rather admired the young Albemarle Sound girl for walking boldly
+into the Willits family--low born as she was--and making them respect
+her.
+
+But none of Peggy's outspoken warnings nor any of St. George's silent
+acceptances of the several situations--always a mark of his
+disapproval--checked the game of love-making which was going on--the
+give-and-take stage of it, with the odds varying with each new shifting
+of the cards, both Peggy and St. George growing the more nervous.
+
+"She's going to accept him, St. George," Peggy had said to him one
+morning as he stood behind her chair while she was shelling the peas for
+dinner. "I didn't think so when he first came, but I believe it now. I
+have said all I could to her. She has cuddled up in my arms and cried
+herself sick over it, but she won't hold out much longer. Young Rutter
+left her heart all torn and bleeding and this man has bound up the sore
+places. She will never love anybody that way again--and may be it is
+just as well. He'd have kept her guessing all her life as to what he'd
+do next. I wish Willits's blood was better, for she's a dear, sweet
+child and proud as she can be, only she's proud over different things
+from what I would be. But you can make up your mind to it--she'll keep
+him dangling for a while yet, as she did last summer at the Red Sulphur,
+but she'll be his wife in a year or less--you mark my words. You haven't
+yet heard from the first one, have you?--as to when he's coming home?"
+
+St. George hadn't heard--he sighed in return--a habit of his lately:
+No, not for two months or more--not since the letter in which Harry said
+he had left the ship and had gone up into the interior. He had, he told
+her, mentioned the boy's silence to Kate in a casual way, watching the
+effect the news produced upon her--but after the remark that the mails
+were always irregular from those far-away countries, she had turned the
+conversation into other channels, she having caught sight of Willits,
+who had just dismounted from his horse.
+
+As to St. George's own position in the affair he felt that his hands
+were still so firmly tied that he could do nothing one way or the other.
+His personal intercourse with Willits had been such as he would always
+have with a man with whom he was on speaking terms, but it never passed
+that border. He was courteous, careful of his speech, and mindful of the
+young man's devotion to Kate, whose guardian for the time being he was,
+but he neither encouraged nor thwarted his suit. Kate was of age and was
+fully competent to decide for herself--extremely competent, for that
+matter.
+
+How little this clear reader of women's hearts--and scores had been
+spread out before him--knew of Kate's, no one but the girl herself could
+have told. That she was adrift on an open sea without a rudder, and that
+she had already begun to lose confidence both in her seamanship and in
+her compass, was becoming more and more apparent to her every day she
+lived. All she knew positively was that she had been sailing before the
+wind for some weeks past with everything flying loose, and that the time
+had now come for her either to "go about" or keep on her course.
+
+Her suitor's family she had carefully considered. She had also studied
+his environment and the impression he made upon those who had known him
+longest:--she must now focus her mental lenses on the man himself. He
+had, she knew, graduated with honors, being the valedictorian of his
+class; had risen rapidly in his profession, and, from what her father
+said, would soon reach a high place among his brother lawyers. There was
+even talk of sending him to the legislature, where her own father, the
+Honorable Prim, had achieved his title. She wished, of course, that Mr.
+Willits's hair was not quite so red; she wished, too, that the knuckles
+on his hands were not so large and bony--and that he was not always at
+her beck and call; but these, she was forced to admit, were trifles in
+the make-up of a fine man. There was, however, a sane mind under the
+carrot-colored hair and a warm palm inside the knotted knuckles, and
+that was infinitely more important than little physical peculiarities
+which one would forget as life went on. As to his periods of ill health,
+these she herself could have prevented had she told him the whole truth
+that night on the stairs, or the day before when she had parried his
+direct proposal of marriage--a piece of stupidity for which she never
+failed to blame herself.
+
+His future conduct did not trouble her in the least. She had long since
+become convinced that Willits would never again become intemperate. He
+had kept his promise, and this meant more to her than his having given
+way to past temptations. The lesson he had learned at the ball had had,
+too, its full effect. One he had never forgotten. Over and over again he
+had apologized to her for his brutal insolence in laying his profane
+hands on her dancing-card and tearing it to bits before her eyes. He
+had, moreover, deeply regretted the duel and had sworn to her on his
+honor as a gentleman that he would never fight another.
+
+Each time she had listened quietly and had told him how much she was
+pleased and how grateful she was for his confidence and how such fine
+resolutions redounded to his credit, and yet in thinking it over the
+next day she could not help comparing his meek outbursts of sorrow with
+Harry's blunt statement made to her the last time she saw him in the
+park, when, instead of expressing any regret for having shot Willits, he
+had boldly declared that he would do it again if any such insult were
+repeated. And strange to say--and this she could not understand in
+herself--in all such comparisons Harry came out best.
+
+But:--and here she had to hold on to her rudder with all her might--she
+had already made one mistake, tumbling head over heels in love with a
+young fellow who had mortified her before the world when their
+engagement was less than a few months old, making her name and
+affections a byword, and she could not and would not repeat the blunder.
+This had shattered her customary self-reliance, leaving her wellnigh
+helpless. Perhaps after all--an unheard-of thing in her experience--she
+had better seek advice of some older and wiser pilot. Two heads, or even
+three--(here her canny Scotch blood asserted itself)--were better than
+one in deciding so important a matter as the choosing of a mate for
+life. And yet--now she came to think it over--it was not so much a
+question of heads as it was a question of shoulders on which the heads
+rested. To turn to St. George, or to any member of the Willits kin, was
+impossible. Peggy's views she understood. Counsel, however, she must
+have, and at once.
+
+Suddenly an inspiration thrilled her like an electric shock--one that
+sent the blood tingling to the very roots of her hair. Why had she not
+thought of it before! And it must be in the most casual way--quite as a
+matter of general conversation, he doing all the talking and she doing
+all the listening, for on no account must he suspect her purpose.
+
+Within the hour she had tied the ribbons of her wide leghorn hat under
+her dimpled chin, picked up her shawl, and started off alone, following
+the lane to the main road. If the judge, by any chance, had adjourned
+court he would come straight home and she would meet him on the way. If
+he was still engaged in the dispensation of justice, she would wait for
+him outside.
+
+She had judged wisely. Indeed she might have waited for days for some
+such moment and not found so favorable an opportunity. His Honor had
+already left the bench and was then slowly making his way toward where
+she stood, hugging the sidewalk trees the better to shade him from the
+increasing heat. As the day had promised to be an unusually warm one, he
+had attired himself in a full suit of yellow nankeen, with palm-leaf fan
+and wide straw hat--a combination which so matched the color and texture
+of his placid, kindly face that Kate could hardly keep from laughing
+outright. Instead she quickened her steps until she stood beside him,
+her lovely, fresh color heightened by her walk, her eyes sparkling, her
+face wreathed in smiles.
+
+"You are lookin' mighty cute, my Lady Kate, in yo' Paisley shawl and
+sarsanet pelisse," he called out in his hearty, cheery way. "Has Peggy
+seen 'em? I've been tryin' to get her some just like 'em, only my co't
+duties are so pressin'. Goodness, gracious me!--but it's gettin' hot!"
+Here he stopped and mopped his face, then his eyes fell upon her again:
+"Bless my soul, child!--you do look pretty this mornin'--jest like yo'
+mother! Where did you get all those pink and white apple-blossoms in yo'
+cheeks?"
+
+"Do you remember her, Mr. Coston?" she rejoined, ignoring his
+compliment.
+
+"Do I remember her! The belle of fo' counties, my dear--eve'ybody at her
+feet; five or six gentlemen co'tin' her at once; old Captain Barkeley,
+cross as a bear--wouldn't let her marry this one or that one--kep' her
+guessin' night and day, till one of 'em blew his brains out, and then
+she fainted dead away. Pretty soon yo' father co'ted her, and bein'
+Scotch, like the old captain and sober as an owl and about as cunnin',
+it wasn't long befo' everything was settled. Very nice man, yo'
+father--got to have things mighty partic'lar; we young bucks used to say
+he slept in a bag of lavender and powdered his cheeks every mornin' to
+make him look fresh, while most of us were soakin' wet in the
+duck-blinds--but that was only our joke. That's long befo' you were
+born, child. But yo' mother didn't live long--they said her heart was
+broken 'bout the other fellow, but there wasn't a word of truth in that
+foolishness--couldn't be. I used to see her and yo' father together long
+after that, and she was mighty good to him, and he was to her. Yes--all
+comes back to me. Stand still, child, and let me look at
+you--yes--you're plumper than yo' mother and a good deal rosier, and you
+don't look so slender and white as she did, like one of those pale
+Indian pipes she used to hunt in the woods. It's the Seymour in you
+that's done that, I reckon."
+
+Kate walked on in silence. It was not the first time that some of her
+mother's old friends had told her practically the same story--not so
+clearly, perhaps, because few had the simple, outspoken candor of the
+old fellow, but enough to let her know that her father was not her
+mother's first love.
+
+"Don't be in a hurry, child, and don't let anybody choose for you," he
+ran on. "Peggy and I didn't make any mistakes--and don't you. Now this
+young son of Parker Willits's"--here his wrinkled face tightened up into
+a pucker as if he had just bitten into an unripe persimmon--"good enough
+young man, may be; goin' to be something great, I reckon--in Mr. Taney's
+office, I hear, or will be next winter. I 'spect he'll keep out of
+jail--most Willitses do--but keep an eye on him and watch him, and watch
+yo'self too. That's more important still. The cemetery is a long ways
+off when you marry the wrong man, child. And that other fellow that
+Peggy tells me has been co'tin' you--Talbot Rutter's boy--he's a wild
+one,. isn't he?--drunk half the time and fightin' everybody who don't
+agree with him. Come pretty nigh endin' young Willits, so they say. Now
+I hear he's run away to sea and left all his debts behind. Talbot turned
+him neck and heels out of doors when he found it out, so they tell
+me--and served the scapegrace right. Don't be in a hurry, child. Right
+man will come bime-by. Just the same with Peggy till I come along
+--there she is now, bless her sweet heart! Peggy, you darlin'--I got so
+lonely for you I just had to 'journ co't. I've been telling Lady Kate
+that she mustn't be in a hurry to get married till she finds somebody
+that will make her as happy as you and me." Here the judge slipped his
+arm around Peggy's capacious waist and the two crossed the pasture as
+the nearest way to the house.
+
+Kate kept on her way alone.
+
+Her only reply to the garrulous judge had been one of her rippling
+laughs, but it was the laughter of bubbles with the sediment lying deep
+in the bottom of the glass.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+
+
+But all outings must come to an end. And so when the marsh grass on the
+lowlands lay in serried waves of dappled satin, and the corn on the
+uplands was waist high and the roses a mob of beauty, Kate threw her
+arms around Peggy and kissed her over and over again, her whole heart
+flowing through her lips; and then the judge got his good-by on his
+wrinkled cheek, and the children on any clean spot which she found on
+their molasses-covered faces; and then the cavalcade took up its line of
+march for the boat-landing, Willits going as far as the wharf, where he
+and Kate had a long talk in low tones, in which he seemed to be doing
+all the talking and she all the listening--"But nuthin' mo'n jes' a
+han'shake" (so Todd told St. George), "he lookin' like he wanter eat her
+up an' she kinder sayin' dat de cake ain't brown 'nough yit fur
+tastin'--but one thing I know fo' sho'--an' dat is she didn't let 'im
+kiss 'er. I wuz leadin' his horse pas' whar dey wuz standin', an' de
+sorrel varmint got cuttin' up an' I kep' him prancin' till Mister
+Willits couldn't stay wid her no longer. Drat dat red-haided--"
+
+"Stop, Todd--be careful--you mustn't speak that way of Mr. Willits."
+
+"Well, Marse George, I won't--but I ain't neber like him f'om de fust.
+He ain't quality an' he neber kin be. How Miss Kate don' stan' him is
+mo'n I kin tell."
+
+
+Kate drove up to her father's house in state, with Ben as special envoy
+to see that she and her belongings were properly cared for. St. George
+with Todd and the four dogs--six in all--arrived, despite Kate's
+protestations, on foot.
+
+Pawson met him at the door. He had given up his boarding-house and had
+transferred his traps and parcels to the floor above--into Harry's old
+room, really--in order that the additional rent--(he had now taken
+entire charge of Temple's finances)--might help in the payment of the
+interest on the mortgage. He had thought this all out while St. George
+was at Wesley and had moved in without notifying him, that being the
+best way to solve the problem--St. George still retaining his bedroom
+and dining-room and the use of the front door. Jemima, too, had gone.
+She wanted, so she had told her master the day he left with Kate, to
+take a holiday and visit some of her people who lived down by the Marsh
+Market in an old rookery near the Falls, and would come back when he
+sent for her; but Todd had settled all that the morning of his arrival,
+the moment he caught sight of her black face.
+
+"Ain't no use yo' comin' back," the darky blurted out. "I'm gwineter do
+de cookin' and de chamber-wo'k. Dere ain't 'nough to eat fo' mo'n two.
+When dem white-livered, no-count, onery gemmens dat stole Marse George's
+money git in de chain-gang, whar dey b'longs, den may be we'll hab
+sumpin' to go to market on, but dat ain't yit; an' don't ye tell Marse
+George I tol' yer or I'll ha'nt ye like dat witch I done heared 'bout
+down to Wesley--ha'nt ye so ye'll think de debble's got ye." To his
+master, his only explanation was that Jemima had gone to look after her
+sister, who had been taken "wid a mis'ry in her back."
+
+If St. George knew anything of the common talk going on around him no
+one was ever the wiser. He continued the even tenor of his life,
+visiting and receiving his friends, entertaining his friends in a simple
+and inexpensive way: Once Poe had spent an evening with him, when he
+made a manly, straightforward apology for his conduct the night of the
+dinner, and on another occasion Mr. Kennedy had made an especial point
+of missing a train to Washington to have an hour's chat with him. In the
+afternoons he would have a rubber of whist with the archdeacon who lived
+across the Square--a broad-minded ecclesiastic, who believed in
+relaxation, although, of course, he was never seen at the club; or he
+might drop into the Chesapeake for a talk with Richard or sit beside him
+in his curious laboratory at the rear of his house where he worked out
+many of the problems that absorbed his mind and inspired his hopes. At
+night, however late or early--whenever he reached home--there was always
+a romp with his dogs. This last he rarely omitted. The click of the
+front-door latch, followed by his firm step overhead, was their signal,
+and up they would come, tumbling over each other in their eagerness to
+reach his cheeks--straight up, their paws scraping his clothes; then a
+swoop into the dining-room, when they would be "downed" to the floor,
+their eyes following his every movement.
+
+Nor had his own financial situation begun as yet to trouble him. Todd
+and Pawson, however, had long since become nervous. More than once had
+they put their heads together for some plan by which sufficient money
+could be raised for current expenses. In this praiseworthy effort, to
+Todd's unbounded astonishment, Pawson had one night developed a plan in
+which the greatly feared and much-despised Gadgem was to hold first
+place. Indeed on the very morning succeeding the receipt of Pawson's
+letter and at an hour when St. George would be absent at the club, there
+had come a brisk rat-a-tat on the front door and Gadgem had sidled in.
+
+Todd had not seen the collector since that eventful morning when he
+stood by ready to pick up the pieces of that gentleman's dismembered
+body when his master was about to throw him into the street for doubting
+his word, and he now studied him with the greatest interest. The first
+thing that struck him was the collector's clothes. As the summer was
+approaching he had changed his winter suit for a combination of brown
+linen bound with black--(second hand, of course, its former owner having
+gone out of mourning) and at the moment sported a moth-eaten, crape-
+encircled white beaver with a floppy, two-inch brim, a rusty black stock
+that grabbed him close under the chin, completely submerging his collar,
+and a pair of congress gaiters very much run down at the heel. He was
+evidently master of himself and the situation, for he stood looking from
+Todd to the young lawyer, a furtive, anxious expression on his face that
+betokened both a surprise at being sent for and a curiosity to learn the
+cause, although no word of inquiry passed his lips.
+
+Pawson's opening remark calmed the collector's suspicions.
+
+"EXactly," he answered in a relieved tone, when the plot had been fully
+developed, dragging a mate of the red bandanna--a blue one--from his
+pocket and blowing his nose in an impressive manner. "EXactly--quite
+right--quite right--difficult perhaps--ENORmously difficult
+but--yes--quite right."
+
+Then there had followed a hurried consultation, during which the
+bullet-headed darky absorbed every word, his eyes rolling about in his
+head, his breath ending somewhere near his jugular vein.
+
+These details duly agreed upon, Gadgem bowed himself out of the
+dining-room, carrying with him a note-book filled with such data as:
+
+    2 fowling pieces made by Purdey, 1838.
+    3 heavy duck guns.
+    2 English saddles.
+    1 silver loving cup.
+    2 silver coasters, etc, etc.,
+
+a list which Todd the night before had prompted and which Pawson, in his
+clear, round hand, had transferred to a sheet of foolscap ready for
+Gadgem in the morning.
+
+On reaching the front door the collector stopped and looked furtively up
+the stairs. He was wondering with professional caution whether St.
+George had returned and was within hearing distance. If so much as a
+hint should reach Temple's ears the whole scheme would come to naught.
+Still in doubt, he called out in his sharpest business voice, as if
+prolonging a conversation which had been carried on inside:
+
+"Yes, Mr. Pawson, please say to Mr. Temple that it is GADgem, of GADgem
+& Coombs--and say that I will be here at ten o'clock
+to-morrow--sharp--on the minute; I am ALways on the minute in matters of
+this kind. Only five minutes of his time--five minutes, remember--" and
+he passed out of hearing.
+
+
+Todd, now duly installed as co-conspirator, opened the ball the next
+morning at breakfast. St. George had slept late, and the hands of the
+marble clock marked but a few minutes of the hour of Gadgem's expected
+arrival, and not a moment could be lost.
+
+"Dat Gadgem man done come yere yisterday," he began, drawing out his
+master's chair with an extra flourish to hide his nervousness, "an' he
+say he's commin' ag'in dis mornin' at ten o'clock. Clar to goodness it's
+dat now! I done forgot to tell ye."
+
+"What does he want, Todd?" asked St. George, dropping into his seat.
+
+"I dunno, sah--said he was lookin' fo' sumpin' fo' a frien' ob his--I
+think it was a gun--an' he wanted to know what kind to buy fur him--
+Yes, sah, dem waffles 's jes' off de fire. He 'lowed he didn't know
+nuffin' 'bout guns--butter, sah?--an' den Mister Pawson spoke up an'
+said he'd better ask you. He's tame dis time--leastways he 'peared so."
+
+"A fine gun is rather a difficult thing to get in these days, Todd,"
+replied St. George, opening his napkin. "Since old Joe Manton died I
+don't know but one good maker--and that's Purdey, of London, and he, I
+hear, has orders to last him five years. No, Todd--I'd rather have the
+toast."
+
+"Yes, sah--I knowed ye couldn't do nuffln' fur him--Take de top
+piece--dat's de brownest--but he seemed so cut up 'bout it dat I tol'
+him he might see ye fur a minute if he come 'long 'bout ten o'clock,
+when you was fru' yo' bre'kfus', 'fo' ye got tangled up wid yo' letters
+an' de papers. Dat's him now, I spec's. Shall I show him in?"
+
+"Yes, show him in, Todd. Gadgem isn't a bad sort of fellow after all. He
+only wants his pound of flesh, like the others. Ah, good-morning, Mr.
+Gadgem." The front door had been purposely left open, and though the
+bill collector had knocked by way of warning, he had paused for no
+answer and was already in the room. The little man laid his battered hat
+silently on a chair near the door, pulled down his tight linen sleeves
+with the funereal binding, adjusted his high black stock, and with
+half-creeping, half-cringing movement, advanced to where St. George sat.
+
+"I said good-morning, Mr. Gadgem," repeated St. George in his most
+captivating tone of voice. He had been greatly amused at Gadgem's
+antics.
+
+"I heard you, sir--I heard you DIStinctly, sir--I was only seeking a
+place on which to rest my hat, sir--not a very inSPIRing hat-quite the
+contrary--but all I have. Yes, sir--you are quite right--it is a VERY
+good morning--a most deLIGHTful morning. I was convinced of that when I
+crossed the park, sir. The trees--"
+
+"Never mind the trees, Gadgem. We will take those up later on. Tell me
+what I can do for you--what do you want?"
+
+"A GUN, sir--a plain, straightforward GUN--one that can be relied upon.
+Not for mySELF, sir--I am not murderously inclined--but for a friend who
+has commissioned me--the exact word, sir--although the percentage is
+small--comMISsioned me to acquire for him a fowling piece of the
+pattern, weight, and build of those belonging to St. George W. Temple,
+Esquire, of Kennedy Square-and so I made bold, sir, to--"
+
+"You won't find it, Gadgem," replied St. George, buttering the toast. "I
+have two that I have shot with for years that haven't their match in the
+State. Todd, bring me one of those small bird guns--there, behind the
+door in the rack. Hand it to Mr. Gadgem. Now, can you see by the shape
+of--take hold of it, man. But do you know anything about guns?"
+
+"Only enough to keep away from their muzzles, sir." He had it in his
+hand now--holding it by the end of the barrel, Todd instinctively
+dodging out of the way, although he knew it was not loaded. "No, sir, I
+don't know anything--not the very SMALLest thing about guns. There is
+nothing, in fact, I know so little about as a gun--that is why I have
+come to you."
+
+St. George recovered the piece and laid it as gently on the table beside
+his plate as if it had been a newly laid egg.
+
+"No, I don't think you do," he laughed, "or you wouldn't hold it upside
+down. Now go on and give me the rest."
+
+Gadgem emitted a chuckle--the nearest he ever came to a laugh: "To have
+it go ON, sir, is infinitely preferable than to have it go OFF, sir.
+He-he! And you have, I believe you said, two of these highly valuable
+implements of death?"
+
+"Yes, five altogether--two of this kind. Here, Todd"--and he picked up
+the gun--"put it back behind the door."
+
+Gadgem felt in his inside pocket, produced and consulted a memorandum
+with the air of a man who wanted to be entirely sure, and in a bland
+voice said:
+
+"I should think at your time of life--if you will permit me, sir--that
+one less gun would not seriously inconvenience you. Would you permit me,
+sir, to hope that--"
+
+St. George looked up from his plate and a peculiar expression flitted
+across his face.
+
+"You mean you want to buy it?"
+
+The bill collector made a little movement forward and scrutinized St.
+George's face with the eye of a hawk. For a man of Temple's kidney to be
+without a fowling piece was like a king being without a crown. This was
+the crucial moment. Gadgem knew Temple's class, and knew just how
+delicately he must be handled. If St. George's pride, or his love for
+his favorite chattels--things personal to himself--should overcome him,
+the whole scheme would fall to the ground. That any gentleman of his
+standing had ever seen the inside of a pawn-shop in his life was
+unthinkable. This was what Gadgem faced. As for Todd, he had not drawn a
+full breath since Gadgem opened his case.
+
+"Not EXactly buy it, sir," purred Gadgem, twisting his body into an
+obsequious spiral. "Men of your position do not traffic in such
+things--but if you would be persuaded, sir, for a money consideration
+which you would fix yourself--say the ORIGinal cost of the gun--to
+spare one of your five--you would greatly delight--in fact, you would
+overWHELM with gratitude--a friend of mine."
+
+St. George hesitated, looked out of the window and a brand-new thought
+forced its way into his mind--as if a closet had been suddenly opened,
+revealing a skeleton he had either forgotten or had put permanently out
+of sight. There WAS need of this "original cost"--instant
+need--something he had entirely forgotten. Jemima would soon need
+it--perhaps needed it at that very minute. He had, it was true, often
+kept her waiting: but that was when he could pay at his pleasure; now,
+perhaps, he couldn't pay at all.
+
+"All right, Gadgem," he said slowly, a far-away, thoughtful look on his
+face--"come to think of it I don't need two guns of this calibre, and I
+am quite willing to let this one go, if it will oblige your friend."
+Here Todd breathed a sigh of relief so loud and deep that his master
+turned his head in inquiry. "As to the price--I'll look that up. Come
+and see me again in a day or two. Better take the gun with you now."
+
+The fight had been won, but the risk had been great. Even Pawson could
+hardly believe his ears when Gadgem, five minutes later, related the
+outcome of the interview.
+
+"Well, then, it will be plain sailing so long as the rest of the things
+last," said Pawson, handling the piece with a covetous touch. He too
+liked a day off when he could get it. "Who will you sell the gun to,
+Gadgem?"
+
+"God knows--I don't! I'll borrow the money on it somehow--but I can't
+see him suffer--no, sir--can't see him SUFfer. It's a pleasure to serve
+him--real gentleman--REAL--do you hear, Pawson? No veneer--no sham--no
+lies! Damn few such men, I tell you. Never met one before-never will
+meet one again. Gave up everything he had for a rattle-brain young
+scamp--BEGgared himself to pay his debts--not a drop of the fellow's
+blood in his veins either--incredible--inCREDible! Got to handle him
+like gunpowder or he'll blow everything into matchsticks. Find out the
+price and I'll bring the money to-morrow. Do you pay it to him; I can't.
+I'd feel too damn mean after lying to him the way I have. Feel that way
+now. Good-day."
+
+The same scene was practically repeated the following month. It was an
+English saddle this time, St. George having two. And it was the same
+unknown gentleman who figured as "the much-obliged friend," Pawson
+conducting the negotiations and securing the owner's consent. On this
+occasion Gadgem sold the saddle outright to the keeper of a livery
+stable, whose bills he collected, paying the difference between the
+asking and the selling price out of his own pocket.
+
+Gradually, however, St. George awoke to certain unsuspected features of
+what was going on around him. The discovery was made one morning when
+the go-between was closeted in Pawson's lower office, Pawson conducting
+the negotiations in St. George's dining-room. The young attorney, with
+Gadgem's assistance, had staved off some accounts until a legal
+ultimatum had been reached, and, having but few resources of his own
+left, had, with Todd's help, decided that the silver loving-cup
+presented to his client's father by the Marquis de Castullux could alone
+save the situation--a decision which brought an emphatic refusal from
+the owner. This and the discovery of Pawson's and Gadgem's treachery had
+greatly incensed him.
+
+"And you tell me, Pawson, that that scoundrel, Gadgem, has--Todd go down
+and bring him up here immediately--has had the audacity to run a
+pawnshop for my benefit without so much as asking my leave?--peddling my
+things?--lying to me straight through?" Here the door opened and
+Gadgem's face peered in. He had, as was his custom, crept upstairs so as
+to be within instant call when wanted.
+
+"Yes--I am speaking of you, sir. Come inside and shut that door behind
+you. You too, Todd. What the devil do you mean, Gadgem, by deceiving me
+in this way? Don't you know I would rather have starved to death than--"
+
+Gadgem raised his hand in protest:
+
+"EXactly so, sir. That's what we were afraid of, sir--such an
+uncomfortable thing to starve to death, sir--I couldn't permit it,
+sir--I'd rather walk my feet off than permit it. I did walk them off--"
+
+"But who asked you to tramp the streets with my things uuder your arm?
+And you lied to me about it--you said you wanted to oblige a friend.
+There wasn't a word of truth in it, and you know it."
+
+Again Gadgem's hand went out with a pleading "Please-don't" gesture.
+"Less than a word, sir--a whole dictionary, less, sir, and UNabridged at
+that, if I might be permitted to say it. My friend still has the
+implement of death, and not only does he still possess it, but he is
+ENORmously obliged. Indeed, I have never SEEN him so happy."
+
+"You mean to tell me, Gadgem," St. George burst out, "that the money you
+paid me for the gun really came from a friend of yours?"
+
+"I do, sir." Gadgem's gimlet eye was worming itself into Temple's.
+
+"What's his name?"
+
+"Gadgem, sir--John Gadgem, of Gadgem & Coombs--Gadgem sole survivor,
+since Coombs is with the angels; the foreclosure having taken place last
+month: hence these weeds." And he lifted the tails of his black coat in
+evidence.
+
+"Out of your own money?"
+
+"Yes, sir--some I had laid away."
+
+St. George wheeled suddenly and stood looking first at Gadgem, then at
+Pawson, and last at Todd, as if for confirmation. Then a light broke in
+upon him--one that played over his face in uncertain flashes.
+
+"And you did this for me?" he asked thoughtfully, fixing his gaze on
+Gadgem.
+
+"I did, sir," came the answer in a meek voice, as if he had been
+detected in filching an apple from a stand; "and I would do it again--do
+it over and over again. And it has been a great pleasure for me to do
+it. I might say, sir, that it has been a kind of exTREME bliss to do
+it."
+
+"Why?" There was a tremor now in Temple's voice that even Todd had never
+noticed before.
+
+Gadgem turned his head away. "I don't know, sir," he replied in a lower
+tone. "I couldn't explain it on oath; I don't care to explain it, sir."
+No lie could serve him now--better make a clean breast of the villany.
+
+"And you still own the gun?" Todd had never seen his master so gentle
+before--not under a provocation such as this.
+
+"I do, sir." Gadgem's voice was barely audible.
+
+"Then it means that you have locked up just that much of your own money
+for a thing you can never use yourself and can't sell. Am I right?"
+
+Gadgem lowered his head and for a moment studied the carpet. His
+activities, now that the cat was out of the bag, were fair subjects for
+discussion, but not his charities.
+
+"I prefer not to answer, sir, and--" the last words died in his throat.
+
+"But it's true, isn't it?" persisted St. George. He had never once taken
+his eyes from Gadgem.
+
+"Yes, it's true."
+
+St. George turned on his heel, walked to the mantel, stood for an
+instant gazing into the empty fireplace, and then, with that same
+straightening of his shoulders and lift of his head which his friends
+knew so well when he was deeply stirred, confronted the collector again:
+
+"Gadgem!" He stopped and caught his breath. For a moment it seemed as if
+something in his throat choked his utterance. "Gadgem--give me your
+hand! Do you know you are a gentleman and a thoroughbred! No--don't
+speak--don't explain. We understand each other. Todd, bring three
+glasses and hand me what is left of the old Port. And do you join us,
+Pawson."
+
+Todd, whose eyes had been popping from his head during the entire
+interview, and who was still amazed at the outcome, suddenly woke to the
+dangers of the situation: on no account must his master's straits be
+further revealed. He raised his hand as a signal to St. George, who was
+still looking into Gadgem's eyes, screwed his face into a tangle of
+puckers and in a husky whisper muttered, so low that only his master
+could hear:
+
+"Dat Port, Marse George"--one eye now went entirely out in a wink--"is
+gittin' a leetle mite low" (there hadn't been a drop of it in the house
+for six months) "an' if--"
+
+"Well, then, that old Brown Sherry--get a fresh bottle, Todd--" St.
+George was quite honest, and so, for that matter, was Todd: the Brown
+Sherry had also seen its day.
+
+"Yes, sah--but how would dat fine ol' peach brandy de jedge gin ye do?
+It's sp'ilin' to be tasted, sah." Both eyes were now in eclipse in the
+effort to apprise his master that with the exception of some badly
+corked Madeira, Tom Coston's peach brandy was about the only beverage
+left in the cellar.
+
+"Well, the old peach brandy, then--get it at once and serve it in the
+large glasses."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+
+
+St. George had now reached the last stage of his poverty. The selling or
+pawning of the few valuables left him had been consummated and with the
+greatest delicacy, so as best to spare his feelings. That he had been
+assisted by hitherto unknown friends who had sacrificed their own
+balances in his behalf, added temporarily to his comforts but did not
+lessen the gravity of the present situation. The fact remained that with
+the exception of a few possible assets he was practically penniless.
+Every old debt that could be collected--and Gadgem had been a scourge
+and a flaming sword as the weeks went on in their gathering--had been
+rounded up. Even his minor interests in two small ground rents had,
+thanks to Pawson, been cashed some years in advance. His available
+resources were now represented by some guns, old books, bridles, another
+saddle, his rare Chinese punch-bowl and its teakwood stand, and a few
+remaining odds and ends.
+
+He could hope for no payment from the Patapsco--certainly not for some
+years; nor could he raise money even on these hopes, the general opinion
+being that despite the efforts of John Gorsuch, Rutter, and Harding to
+punish the guilty and resuscitate the innocent, the bank would finally
+collapse without a cent being paid the depositors. As for that old
+family suit, it had been in the courts for forty-odd years and it was
+likely to be there forty-odd years more before a penny would be realized
+from the settlement.
+
+Had he been differently constructed--he a man with scores and scores of
+friends, many of whom would gladly have helped him--he might have made
+his wants known; but such was not his make-up. The men to whom he could
+apply--men like Horn, the archdeacon, Murdoch, and one or two
+others--had no money of their own to spare, and as for wealthier
+men--men like Rutter and Harding--starvation itself would be preferable
+to an indebtedness of that kind. Then again, he did not want his poverty
+known. He had defied Talbot Rutter, and had practically shown him the
+door when the colonel doubted his ability to pay Harry's debts and still
+live, and no humiliation would be greater than to see Rutter's
+satisfaction over his abject surrender. No--if the worst came to the
+worst, he would slip back to Wesley, where he was always welcome and
+take up the practice of the law, which he had abandoned since his
+father's death, and thus earn money enough not to be a burden to Peggy.
+In the meantime something might turn up. Perhaps another of Gadgem's
+thumb-screws could be fastened on some delinquent and thus extort a drop
+or two; or the bank might begin paying ten per cent.; or another
+prepayment might be squeezed out of a ground rent. If none of these
+things turned out to his advantage, then Gadgem and Pawson must continue
+their search for customers who would have the rare opportunity of
+purchasing, direct "from the private collection of a gentleman," etc.,
+etc., "one first-class English saddle," etc., etc.
+
+"The meantime," however, brought no relief. Indeed so acute had the
+financial strain become that another and a greater sacrifice--one that
+fairly cut his heart in two--faced him--the parting with his dogs. That
+four mouths besides his own and Todd's were too many to feed had of late
+become painfully evident. He might send them to Wesley. of course, but
+then he remembered that no one at Tom Coston's ever had a gun in their
+hands, and they would only be a charge and a nuisance to Peggy. Or he
+might send them up into Carroll County to a farmer friend, but in that
+case he would have to pay their keep, and he needed the money for those
+at home. And so he waited and pondered.
+
+A coachman from across the park solved the difficulty a day or two later
+with a whispered word in Todd's ear, which set the boy's temper
+ablaze--for he dearly loved the dogs himself--until he had talked it
+over with Pawson and Gadgem, and had then broken the news to his master
+as best he could.
+
+"Dem dogs is eatin' dere haids off," he began, fidgeting about the
+table, brushing the crumbs on to a tray only to spill half of them on
+the floor--"an' Mister Floyd's coachman done say dat his young marster's
+jes' a-dyin' for 'em an' don't cyar what he pay for 'em, dat is if ye--"
+but St. George cut him short.
+
+"What did you say, Todd?"
+
+"Why dat young marster dat's jes' come up f'om Ann'rundel--got mo' money
+den he kin th'ow 'way I yere."
+
+"And they are eating their heads off, are they?--and he wants to swap
+his dirty money for my--Yes--I know. They think they can buy anything
+with a banknote. And its Floe and Dandy and Sue and Rupert, is it? And
+I'm to sell them--I who have slept with them and ate with them and
+hugged them a thousand times. Of course they eat their heads off.
+Yes--don't say another word. Send them up one at a time--Floe first!"
+
+The scene that followed always lingered in his mind. For days thereafter
+he could not mention their name, even to Todd, without the tears
+springing to his eyes.
+
+Up the kitchen flight they tumbled--not one at a time, but all in a
+scramble, bounding straight at him, slobbering all over his face and
+hands, their paws scraping his clothes--each trying to climb into his
+lap--big Gordon setters, all four. He swept them off and ranged them in
+a row before his arm-chair with their noses flat to the carpet, their
+brown agate eyes following his every movement.
+
+"Todd says you eat too much, you damned rascals!" he cried in enforced
+gayety, leaning forward, shaking his finger in their faces. "What the
+devil do you mean, coming into a gentleman's private apartments and
+eating him out of house and home!--and that's what you're doing. I'm
+going to sell you!--do you hear that?--sell you to some stingy
+curmudgeon who'll starve you to death, and that's what you deserve! ...
+Come here, Floe--you dear old doggie, you--nice Floe! ... Here,
+Dandy--Rupert--Sue!" They were all in his arms, their cold noses
+snuggled under his warm chin. But this time he didn't care what they did
+to his clothes--nor what he did to them. He was alone; Todd had gone
+down to the kitchen--only he and the four companions so dear to his
+heart. "Come here, you imp of the devil," he continued, rubbing Floe's
+ears--he loved her best--pinching her nose until her teeth showed;
+patting her flanks, crooning over her as a woman would over a child,
+talking to himself all the time. "I wonder if Floyd will be good to
+them! If I thought he wouldn't I'd rather starve than--No--I reckon
+it's all right--he's got plenty of room and plenty of people to look
+after them." Then he rose from his chair and drew his hand across his
+forehead. "Got to sell my dogs, eh? Turned traitor, have you, Mr.
+Temple, and gone back on your best friends? By God! I wonder what will
+come next?" He strode across the room, rang for Todd, and bending down
+loosened a collar from Dandy's neck, on which his own name was engraved,
+"St. George Wilmot Temple, Esquire." "Esquire, eh?" he muttered, reading
+the plate. "What a damned lie! Property of a pauper living on pawnshops
+and a bill collector! Nice piece of business, St. George--fine record
+for your blood and breeding! Ah, Todd--that you? Well, take them
+downstairs and send word to Mr. Floyd's man to call for them to-night,
+and when you come back I'll have a letter ready for you. Come here, you
+rascals, and let me hug one or two of you. Good Floe--good doggie." Then
+the long-fought choke in his throat strangled him. "Take them away,
+Todd," he said in a husky voice, straightening his shoulders as if the
+better to get his breath, and with a deep indrawn sigh walked slowly
+into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.
+
+Half an hour later there followed a short note, written on one of his
+few remaining sheets of English paper, addressed to the new owner, in
+which he informed that gentleman that he bespoke for his late companions
+the same care and attention which he had always given them himself, and
+which they so richly deserved, and which he felt sure they would
+continue to receive while in the service of his esteemed and honored
+correspondent. This he sealed in wax and stamped with his crest; and
+this was duly delivered by Todd--and so the painful incident had come to
+an end.
+
+The dogs disposed of, there still remained to him another issue to
+meet--the wages he owed Jemima. Although she had not allowed the subject
+to pass her lips--not even to Todd--St. George knew that she needed the
+money--she being a free woman and her earnings her own--not a master's.
+He had twice before determined to set aside enough money from former
+cash receipts to liquidate Jemima's debt--once from the proceeds of
+Gadgem's gun and again from what Floyd paid him for the dogs--but Todd
+had insisted with such vehemence that he needed it for the marketing,
+that he had let it go over.
+
+The one remaining object of real value was the famous loving-cup. With
+this turned into money he would be able to pay Jemima in full. For days
+he debated the matter with himself, putting the question in a dozen
+different lights: it was not really HIS cup, but belonged to the family,
+he being only its custodian; it would reflect on his personal honor if
+he traded so distinguished a gift--one marking the esteem in which his
+dead father had been held, etc. Then the round, good-natured face and
+bent figure of his old stand-by and comfort--who had worked for him and
+for his father almost all her life--rose before him, she bending over
+her tubs earning the bread to keep her alive, and with this picture in
+his mind all his fine-spun theories vanished into thin air. Todd was
+summoned and thus the last connecting link between the past and present
+was broken and the precious heirloom turned over to Kirk, the
+silversmith, who the next day found a purchaser with one of the French
+secretaries in Washington, a descendant of the marquis.
+
+With the whole of the purchase money in his hands and his mind firmly
+made up he rang for his servant:
+
+"Come along, Todd--show me where Aunt Jemima lives--it's somewhere down
+by the market, I hear--I'm going now."
+
+The darky's face got as near white as his skin would allow: this was the
+last thing he had expected.
+
+"Dat ain't no fit place for ye, Marse George," he stammered. "I'll go
+an' git her an' bring her up; she tol' me when I carried dat las'
+washin' down she wuz a-comin' dis week."
+
+"No, her sister is sick and she is needed where she is. Get your basket
+and come along--you can do your marketing down there. Bring me my hat
+and cane. What's the matter with her sister, do you know?"
+
+Again the darky hedged: "Dunno, sah--some kin' o' mis'ry in her back I
+reckon. Las' time Aunt Jemima was yere she say de doctor 'lowed her
+kittens was 'fected." (It was another invalid limping past the front
+steps who had put that in his head.)
+
+St. George roared: "Well, whatever she's got, I'm going to pay my
+respects to her; I've neglected Aunt Jemima too long. No--my best
+hat--don't forget that I'm going to call on a very distinguished colored
+lady. Come, out with it. How far does she live from the market?"
+
+"Jes' 'bout's far's from yere to de church. Is you gwine now? I got a
+heap o' cleanin' ter do--dem steps is all gormed up, dey's dat dirty.
+Maybe we better go when--"
+
+"Not another word out of you! I'm going now." He could feel the money in
+his pocket and he could not wait. "Get your basket."
+
+Todd led the way and the two crossed the park and struck out for the
+lower part of the city, near Jones Falls, into a district surrounded by
+one-and two-story houses inhabited by the poorer class of whites and
+the more well-to-do free negroes. Here the streets, especially those
+which ran to the wharves, were narrow and ill-paved, their rough cobbles
+being often obstructed by idle drays, heavy anchors, and rusting
+anchor-chains, all on free storage. Up one of these crooked streets,
+screened from the brick sidewalk by a measly wooden fence, stood a
+two-story wooden house, its front yard decorated with clothes-lines
+running criss-cross from thumbs of fence-posts to fingers of shutters--a
+sort of cat's-cradle along whose meshes Aunt Jemima hung her wet
+clothes.
+
+On this particular day what was left of St. George Temple's wardrobe and
+bed linen, with the exception of what that gentleman had on his back,
+was either waving in the cool air of the morning or being clothes-
+pinned so that it might wave later on.
+
+Todd's anxious face was the first to thrust itself from around the
+corner of a sagging, sloppy sheet. The two had entered the gate in the
+fence at the same moment, but St. George had been lost in the maze of
+dripping linen.
+
+"Go'way f'om dar, you fool nigger, mussin' up my wash! Keep yo' black
+haid off'er dem sheets, I tell ye, 'fo' I smack ye! An' ye needn't come
+down yere a-sassin' me 'bout Marse George's clo'es, 'cause dey ain't
+done--" (here Temple's head came into view, his face in a broad smile).
+"Well, fer de lan's sakes, Marse George. What ye come down yere fer?
+Here--lemme git dat basket outer yo' way--No, dem hands ain't fit fer
+nobody to shake--My!--but I's mighty glad ter see ye! Don't tell me ye
+come fer dat wash--I been so pestered wid de weather--nothin' don't
+dry."
+
+He had dodged a wet sheet and had the old woman by the hand now, her
+face in a broad grin at sight of him.
+
+"No, aunty--I came down to pay you some money."
+
+"You don't owe me no money--leastwise you don't owe me nothin' till ye
+kin pay it," and she darted an annihilating glance at Todd.
+
+"Yes, I do--but let me see where you live. What a fine place--plenty of
+room except on wash-days. All those mine?--I didn't know I had that many
+clothes left. Pick up that basket, Todd, and bring it in for aunty." The
+two made their way between the wet linen and found themselves in front
+of the dwelling. "And is this all yours?"
+
+"De fust flo' front an 'back is mine an' de top flo' I rents out. Got a
+white man in dere now dat works in de lumber yard. Jes' come up an' see
+how I fixed it up."
+
+"And tell me about your sister--is she better?" he continued.
+
+The old woman put her arms akimbo: "Lawd bress ye, Marse George!--who
+done tol' ye dat fool lie! I ain't got no sister--not yere!"
+
+"Why, I thought you couldn't come back to me because you had to nurse
+some member of your family who had kittens, or some such misery in her
+spine--wasn't that it, Todd?" said St. George trying to conceal a
+smile.
+
+Todd shot a beseeching look at Jemima to confirm his picturesque yarn,
+but the old woman would have none of it.
+
+"Dere ain't been nobody to tek care ob but des me. I come yere 'cause I
+knowed ye didn't hab no money to keep me, an' I got back de ol'
+furniture what I had fo' I come to lib wid ye, an' went to washin', an'
+if dat yaller skunk's been tellin' any lies 'bout me I'm gwineter wring
+his neck."
+
+"No, let Todd alone," laughed St. George, his heart warming to the old
+woman at this further proof of her love for him. "The Lord has already
+forgiven him that lie, and so have I. And now what have you got
+upstairs?"
+
+They had mounted the steps by this time and St. George was peering into
+a clean, simply furnished room. "First rate, aunty--your lumber-yard man
+is in luck. And now put that in your pocket," and he handed her the
+package.
+
+"What's dis?"
+
+"Nearly half a year's wages."
+
+"I ain't gwineter take it," she snapped back in a positive tone.
+
+St. George laid his hand tenderly on the old woman's shoulder. She had
+served him faithfully for many years and he was very fond of her.
+
+"Tuck it in your bosom, aunty--it should have been paid long ago."
+
+She looked at him shrewdly: "Did de bank pay ye yit, Marse George?"
+
+No
+
+"Den I ain't gwineter tech it--I ain't gwineter tech a fip ob it!" she
+exploded. "How I know ye ain't a-sufferin' fer it! See dat wash?--an' I
+got anudder room to rent if I'm min' ter scrunch up a leetle mo'. I kin
+git 'long."
+
+St. George's hand again tightened on her shoulder.
+
+"Take it when you can get it, aunty," he said in a more serious tone,
+and turning on his heel joined Todd below, leaving the old woman in
+tears at the top of the stairs, the money on her limp outspread fingers.
+
+All the way back to his home--they had stopped to replenish the larder
+at the market--St. George kept up his spirits. Absurd as it was--he a
+man tottering on the brink of dire poverty--the situation from his
+stand-point was far from perilous. He had discharged the one debt that
+had caused him the most anxiety--the money due the faithful old cook;
+he had a basketful of good things--among them half a dozen quail and
+three diamond-back terrapin--the cheapest food in the market--and he had
+funds left for his immediate wants.
+
+With this feeling of contentment permeating his mind something of the
+old feeling of independence, with its indifference toward the dollar and
+what it meant and could bring him, welled up in his heart. For a time at
+least the spectre of debt lay hidden. A certain old-time happiness began
+to show itself in his face and bearing. So evident was this that before
+many days had passed even Todd noticed the return of his old buoyancy,
+and so felt privileged to discuss his own feelings, now that the secret
+of their mode of earning a common livelihood was no longer a bugbear to
+his master.
+
+"Dem taters what we got outer de extry sterrups of dat ridin'-saddle is
+mos' gone," he ventured one morning at breakfast, when the remains of
+the cup money had reached a low ebb. "Shall I tote de udder saddle down
+to dat Gadgem man"--(he never called him anything else, although of late
+he had conceived a marked respect for the collector)--"or shall I keep
+it fer some mo' sugar?"
+
+"What else is short, Todd?" said St. George, good-naturedly, helping
+himself to another piece of corn bread.
+
+"Well, dere's plenty ob dose decanter crackers and de pair ob andirons
+is still holdin' out wid de mango pickles an' de cheese, but dat pair ob
+ridin'-boots is mos' gone. We got half barrel ob flour an' a bag o'
+coffee, ye 'member, wid dem boots. I done seen some smoked herrin' in de
+market yisterday mawnin' 'd go mighty good wid de buckwheat cakes an'
+sugar-house 'lasses--only we ain't got no 'lasses. I was a-thinkin' dem
+two ol' cheers in de garret 'd come in handy; ain't nobody sot in em
+since I been yere; de bottoms is outen one o' dem, but de legs an' backs
+is good 'nough fer a quart o' 'lasses. I kin take 'em down to de same
+place dat Gadgem man tol' me to take de big brass shovel an' tongs--"
+
+"All right, Todd," rejoined St. George, highly amused at the boy's
+economic resources. "Anything that Mr. Gadgem recommends I agree to.
+Yes--take him the chairs--both of them."
+
+Even the men at the club had noticed the change and congratulated him on
+his good spirits. None of them knew of his desperate straits, although
+many of them had remarked on the differences in his hospitality, while
+some of the younger gallants--men who made a study of the height and
+roll of the collars of their coats and the latest cut of
+waistcoats--especially the increased width of the frogs on the lapels--
+had whispered to each other that Temple's clothes certainly needed
+overhauling; more particularly his shirts, which were much the worse for
+wear: one critic laying the seeming indifference to the carelessness of
+a man who was growing old; another shaking his head with the remark that
+it was Poole's bill which was growing old--older by a good deal than the
+clothes, and that it would have to be patched and darned with one of old
+George Brown's (the banker's) scraps of paper before the wearer could
+regain his reputation of being the best-dressed man in or out of the
+club.
+
+None of these lapses from his former well-to-do estate made any
+difference, however, to St. George's intimates when it came to the
+selection of important guests for places at table or to assist in the
+success of some unusual function. Almost every one in and around Kennedy
+Square had been crippled in their finances by the failure, not only of
+the Patapsco, but by kindred institutions, during the preceding few
+years. Why, then, they argued, should any one criticise such economies
+as Temple was practising? He was still living in his house with his
+servants--one or two less, perhaps--but still in comfort, and if he did
+not entertain as heretofore, what of it? His old love of sport, as was
+shown by his frequent visits to his estates on the Eastern Shore, might
+account for some of the changes in his hospitable habits, there not
+being money enough to keep up establishments both in country and town.
+These changes, of course, could only be temporary. His properties on the
+peninsula--(almost everybody had "properties" in those days, whether
+imaginary or real)--would come up some day, and then all would be well
+again.
+
+The House of Seymour was particularly in the dark. The Honorable Prim,
+in his dense ignorance, had even asked St. George to join in one of his
+commercial enterprises--the building of a new clipper ship--while Kate,
+who had never waited five minutes in all her life for anything that a
+dollar could buy, had begged a subscription for a charity she was
+managing, and which she received with a kiss and a laugh, and without a
+moment's hesitation, from a purse shrinking steadily by the hour.
+
+Only when some idle jest or well-meant inquiry diverted his mind to the
+chain of events leading up to Harry's exile was his insistent
+cheerfulness under his fast accumulating misfortunes ever checked.
+
+Todd was the cruel disturber on this particular day, with a bit of
+information which, by reason of its source, St. George judged must be
+true, and which because of its import brought him infinite pain.
+
+"Purty soon we won't hab 'nough spoons to stir a toddy wid," Todd had
+begun. "I tell ye, Marse George, dey ain't none o' dem gwine down in
+dere pockets till de constable gits 'em. I jes' wish Marse Harry was
+yere--he'd fix 'em. 'Fo' dey knowed whar dey wuz he'd hab 'em full o'
+holes. Dat red-haided, no-count gemman what's a-makin up to Miss Kate is
+gwineter git her fo' sho--"
+
+It was here that St. George had raised his head, his heart in his mouth.
+
+"How do you know, Todd?" he asked in a serious tone. He had long since
+ceased correcting Todd for his oustpoken reflections on Kate's suitor as
+a useless expenditure of time.
+
+"'Cause Mammy Henny done tol' Aunt Jemima so--an' she purty nigh cried
+her eyes out when she said it. Ye ain't heared nothin' 'bout Marse Harry
+comin' home, is ye?"
+
+"No--not a word--not for many months, Todd. He's up in the mountains, so
+his mother tells me."
+
+Whereupon Todd had gulped down an imprecation expressive of his feelings
+and had gone about his duties, while St. George had buried himself in
+his easy-chair, his eyes fixed on vacancy, his soul all the more
+a-hungered for the boy he loved. He wondered where the lad was--why he
+hadn't written. Whether the fever had overtaken him and he laid up in
+some filthy hospital. Almost every week his mother had either come
+herself or sent in for news, accompanied by messages expressing some new
+phase of her anxiety. Or had he grown and broadened out and become big
+and strong?--whom had he met, and how had they treated him?--and would
+he want to leave home again when once he came back? Then, as always,
+there came a feeling of intense relief. He thanked God that Harry WASN'T
+at home; a daily witness of the shrinkage of his resources and the
+shifts to which he was being put. This would be ten times worse for him
+to bear than the loss of the boy's companionship. Harry would then
+upbraid him for the sacrifices he had made for him, as if he would not
+take every step over again! Take them!--of course he would take
+them!--so would any other gentleman. Not to have come to Harry's rescue
+in that the most critical hour of his life, when he was disowned by his
+father, rejected by his sweetheart, and hounded by creditors, not one of
+whom did he justly owe, was unthinkable, absolutely unthinkable, and not
+worth a moment's consideration.
+
+And so he would sit and muse, his head in his hand, his well-rounded
+legs stretched toward the fire, his white, shapely fingers tapping the
+arms of his chair--each click so many telegraphic records of the
+workings of his mind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+
+
+With the closing in of the autumn and the coming of the first winter
+cold, the denizens of Kennedy Square gave themselves over to the
+season's entertainments. Mrs. Cheston, as was her usual custom, issued
+invitations for a ball--this one in honor of the officers who had
+distinguished themselves in the Mexican War. Major Clayton, Bowdoin, the
+Murdochs, Stirlings, and Howards--all persons of the highest
+quality--inaugurated a series of chess tournaments, the several players
+and those who came to look on to be thereafter comforted with such
+toothsome solids as wild turkey, terrapin, and olio, and such delectable
+liquids as were stored in the cellars of their hosts. Old Judge
+Pancoast, yielding to the general demand, gave an oyster roast--his
+enormous kitchen being the place of all others for such a function. On
+this occasion two long wooden tables were scoured to an unprecedented
+whiteness--the young girls in white aprons and the young men in white
+jackets serving as waiters--and laid with wooden plates, and two big
+wooden bowls--one for the hot, sizzling shells just off their bed of
+hickory coals banked on the kitchen hearth, and the other for the empty
+ones--the fun continuing until the wee sma' hours of the morning.
+
+The Honorable Prim and his charming daughter, not to be outdone by their
+neighbors, cleared the front drawing-room of its heavy furniture,
+covered every inch of the tufted carpet with linen crash, and with old
+black Jones as fiddler and M. Robinette--a French exile--as instructor
+in the cutting of pigeon wings and the proper turning out of ankles and
+toes, opened the first of a series of morning soirees for the young folk
+of the neighborhood, to which were invited not only their mothers, but
+their black mammies as well.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Richard Horn, not having any blithesome daughter, nor any
+full-grown son--Oliver being but a child of six--and Richard and his
+charming wife having long since given up their dancing-slippers--were
+good enough to announce--(and it was astonishing what an excitement it
+raised)--that "On the Monday night following Mr. Horn would read aloud,
+to such of his friends as would do him the honor of being present, the
+latest Christmas story by Mr. Charles Dickens, entitled 'The Cricket on
+the Hearth.'" For this occasion Mr. Kennedy had loaned him his own copy,
+one of the earliest bound volumes, bearing on its fly-leaf an
+inscription in the great master's own handwriting in which he thanked
+the distinguished author of "Swallow Barn" for the many kindnesses he
+had shown him during his visit to America, and begged his indulgence for
+his third attempt to express between covers the sentiment and feeling of
+the Christmas season.
+
+Not that this was an unusual form of entertainment, nor one that excited
+special comment. Almost every neighborhood had its morning (and often
+its evening) "Readings," presided over by some one who read well and
+without fatigue--some sweet old maid, perhaps, who knew how to grow old
+gracefully. At these times a table would be rolled into the library by
+the deferential servant of the house, on which he would place the dear
+lady's spectacles and a book, its ivory marker showing where the last
+reading had ended--it might be Prescott's "Ferdinand and Isabella," or
+Irving's "Granada," or Thackeray's "Vanity Fair," or perhaps, Dickens's
+"Martin Chuzzlewit."
+
+At eleven o'clock the girls would begin to arrive, each one bringing her
+needle-work of some kind--worsted, or embroidery, or
+knitting--something she could manage without discomfort to herself or
+anybody about her, and when the last young lady was in her seat, the
+same noiseless darky would tiptoe in and take his place behind the old
+maid's chair. Then he would slip a stool under her absurdly small
+slippers and tiptoe out again, shutting the door behind him as quietly
+as if he found the dear lady asleep--and so the reading would begin.
+
+A reading by Richard, however, was always an event of unusual
+importance, and an invitation to be present was never declined whether
+received by letter or by word of mouth.
+
+St. George had been looking forward eagerly to the night, and when the
+shadows began to fall in his now almost bare bedroom, he sent for Todd
+to help him dress.
+
+"Have you got a shirt for me, Todd?"
+
+"Got seben oh 'em. Dey wants a li'l' trimmin' roun' de aidges, but I
+reckon we kin make 'em do--Aunt Jemima sont 'em home dis mawnin'. She's
+been a-workin' on 'em, she says. Looks ter me like a goat had a moufful
+outer dis yere sleeve, but I dassent tell er so. Lot o' dem butters
+wanderin' roun' dat Marsh market lookin' fer sumpin' to eat; lemme gib
+dem boots anudder tech."
+
+Todd skipped downstairs with the boots and St. George continued
+dressing; selecting his best and most becoming scarf; pinning down the
+lapels of his buff waistcoat; scissoring the points of his high collar,
+and with Todd's assistance working his arms between the slits in the
+silk lining of the sleeves of his blue cloth, brass-buttoned coat, which
+he finally pulled into place across his chest.
+
+And a well-dressed man he was in spite of the frayed edges of his collar
+and shirt ruffles and the shiny spots in his trousers and coat where the
+nap was worn smooth, nor was there any man of his age who wore his
+clothes as well, no matter what their condition, or one who made so
+debonair an appearance.
+
+Pawson was of that opinion to-night when St. George, his toilet
+complete, joined him at the bottom of the stairs. Indeed he thought he
+had never seen his client look better--a discovery which sent a spasm of
+satisfaction through his long body, for he had a piece of important news
+to tell him, and had been trying all day to make up his mind how best to
+break it.
+
+"You look younger, Mr. Temple," he began, "and, if you will allow me to
+say so, handsomer, every day. Your trip to the Eastern Shore last spring
+did you no end of good," and the young attorney crooked his long neck
+and elevated his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth in the effort to
+give to his sinuous body a semblance of mirth.
+
+"Thank you, Pawson," bowed St. George, graciously. "You are really most
+kind, but that is because you are stone blind. My shirt is full of
+holes, and it is quite likely I shall have to stand all the evening for
+fear of splitting the knees of my breeches. Come--out with it"--he
+laughed--"there is something you have to tell me or you would not be
+waiting for me here at this hour in the cold hall."
+
+Pawson smiled faintly, then his eyebrows lost their identity in some
+well-defined wrinkles in his forehead.
+
+"I have, sir, a most unpleasant thing to tell you--a very unpleasant
+thing. When I tried this morning for a few days' grace on that last
+overdue payment, the agent informed me, to my great surprise, that Mr.
+John Gorsuch had bought the mortgage and would thereafter collect the
+interest in person. I am not sure, of course, but I am afraid Colonel
+Rutter is behind the purchase. If he is we must be prepared to face the
+worst should he still feel toward you as he did when you and he"--and he
+jerked his thumb meaningly in the direction of the dining-room--"had it
+out--in there."
+
+St. George compressed his lips. "And so Rutter holds the big end of the
+whip after all, does he?" he exclaimed with some heat. "He will find the
+skin on my back not a very valuable asset, but he is welcome to it. He
+has about everything else."
+
+"But I'd rather pay it somehow if we could," rejoined Pawson in a
+furtive way--as if he had something up his sleeve he dare not spring
+upon him.
+
+"Yes--of course you would," retorted St. George with a cynical laugh,
+slipping on his gloves. "Pay it?--of course pay it. Pay everything and
+everybody! What do you think I'd bring at auction, Pawson? I'm white,
+you know, and so I can't be sold on the block--but the doctors might
+offer you a trifle for cutting-up purposes. Bah! Hand me my coat, Todd."
+
+A deprecatory smile flitted across the long, thin face of the attorney.
+He saw that St. George was in no mood for serious things, and yet
+something must be done; certainly before the arrival of Gorsuch himself,
+who was known to be an exact man of business and who would have his
+rights, no matter who suffered.
+
+"I had a little plan, sir--but you might not fall in with it. It would,
+perhaps, be only temporary, but it is all I can think of. I had an
+applicant this morning--in fact it came within an hour after I had
+heard the news. It seemed almost providential, sir."
+
+St. George was facing the door, ready to leave the house, his shoulders
+still bent forward so that Todd could adjust his heavy cloak the better,
+when for the first time the anxious tone in Pawson's voice caught his
+attention. As the words fell from the attorney's lips he straightened,
+and Todd stepped back, the garment still in the darky's hands.
+
+"An applicant for what?" he inquired in a graver tone. He was not
+surprised--nothing surprised him in these days--he was only curious.
+
+"For the rooms you occupy. I can get enough for them, sir, not only to
+clear up the back interest, but to keep the mortgage alive and--"
+
+St. George's face paled as the full meaning of Pawson's proposal dawned
+in his mind. That was the last thing he had expected.
+
+"Turn me into the street, eh?" There was a note of pained surprise in
+his voice.
+
+"I don't want you to put it that way, sir." His heart really bled for
+him--it was all he could do to control himself.
+
+"How the devil else can I put it?"
+
+"Well, I thought you might want to do a little shooting, sir."
+
+"Shooting! What with? One of Gadgem's guns? Hire it of him, eh, and
+steal the powder and shot!" he cried savagely.
+
+"Yes--if you saw fit, sir. Gadgem, I am sure, would be most willing, and
+you can always get plenty of ammunition. Anyway, you might pass a few
+months with your kinsfolk on the Eastern Shore, whether you hunted or
+not; it did you so much good before. The winter here is always wearing,
+sloppy and wet. I've heard you say so repeatedly." He had not taken his
+eyes from his face; he knew this was St. George's final stage, and he
+knew too that he would never again enter the home he loved; but this
+last he could not tell him outright. He would rather have cut his right
+hand off than tell him at all. Being even the humblest instrument in the
+exiling of a man like St. George Wilmot Temple was in itself a torture.
+
+"And when do you want me to quit?" he said calmly. "I suppose I can
+evacuate like an officer and a gentleman and carry my side-arms with
+me--my father's cane, for instance, that I can neither sell nor pawn,
+and a case of razors which are past sharpening?" and his smile broadened
+as the humor of the thing stole over him.
+
+"Well, sir, it ought to be done," continued Pawson in his most serious
+tone, ignoring the sacrifice--(there was nothing funny in the situation
+to the attorney)--"well--I should say--right away. To-morrow, perhaps.
+This news of Gorsuch has come very sudden, you know. If I can show him
+that the new tenant has moved in already he might wait until his first
+month's rent was paid. You see that--"
+
+"Oh, yes, Pawson, I see--see it all clear as day," interrupted St.
+George--"have been seeing it for some months past, although neither you
+nor Gadgem seem to have been aware of that fact." This came with so
+grave a tone that Pawson raised his eyes inquiringly. "And who is this
+man," Temple went on, "who wants to step into my shoes? Be sure you tell
+him they are half-soled," and he held up one boot. He might want to
+dance or hunt in them--and his toes would be out the first thing he
+knew."
+
+"He is Mr. Gorsuch's attorney, sir, a Mr. Fogbin," Pawson answered,
+omitting any reference to the boots and still concerned over the gravity
+of the situation. "He did some work once for Colonel Rutter, and that's
+how Gorsuch got hold of him. That's why I suspect the colonel. This
+would make the interest sure, you see--rather a sly game, is it not,
+sir? One I did not expect."
+
+St. George pondered for a moment, and his eye fell on his servant.
+
+"And what will I do with Todd?"
+
+The darky's eyes had been rolling round in his head as the talk
+continued, Pawson, knowing how leaky he was, having told him nothing of
+the impending calamity for fear he would break it to his master in the
+wrong way.
+
+"I should say take him with you," came the positive answer.
+
+"Take him with me! You didn't think I would be separated from him, did
+you?" cried St. George, indignantly, the first note of positive anger he
+had yet shown.
+
+"I didn't think anything about it, sir," and he looked at Todd
+apologetically.
+
+"Well, after this please remember, Mr. Pawson, that where I go Todd
+goes."
+
+The darky leaned forward as if to seize St. George's hand; his eyes
+filled and his lips began to tremble. He would rather have died than
+have left his master.
+
+St. George walked to the door, threw it open, and stood for an instant,
+his eyes fixed on the bare trees in the park. He turned and faced the
+two again:
+
+"Todd!"
+
+"Yes, Marse George--" Two hot ragged tears still lingered on the darky's
+eyelids.
+
+"To-day is Monday, is it not?--and to-morrow is boat day?"
+
+"Yes, Marse George," came the trembling answer.
+
+"All right, Pawson, I'll go. Let Talbot Rutter have the rest--he's
+welcome to it. Now for my cloak, Todd--so--and my neckerchief and cane.
+Thank you very much, Pawson. You have been very kind about it all, and I
+know quite well what it has cost you to tell me this. You can't
+help--neither can I--neither, for that matter, can Gorsuch--nor is it
+his fault. It is Rutter's, and he will one day get his reckoning.
+Good-night--don't sit up too late. I am going to Mr. Horn's to spend the
+evening. Walk along with me through the Park, Todd, so I can talk to
+you. And, Todd," he continued when they had entered the path and were
+bending their steps to the Horn house, "I want you to gather together
+to-morrow what are left of my clothes and pack them in one of those hair
+trunks upstairs--and your own things in another. Never mind about
+waiting for the wash. I'm going down to Aunt Jemima's myself in the
+morning and will fix it so she can send the rest to me later on. I owe
+her a small balance and must see her once more before I leave. Now go
+home and get to bed; you have been losing too much sleep of late."
+
+And yet he was not cast down, nor did his courage fail him. Long before
+the darky's obedient figure had disappeared his natural buoyancy had
+again asserted itself--or perhaps the philosophy which always sustains a
+true gentleman in his hour of need had come to his assistance. He fully
+realized what this last cowardly blow meant. One after another his
+several belongings had vanished: his priceless family heirlooms; his
+dogs; and now the home of his ancestors. He was even denied further
+shelter within its walls. But there were no regrets; his conscience
+still sustained him; he would live it all over again. In his
+determination to keep to his standards he had tried to stop a freshet
+with a shovelful of clay; that was all. It was a foolhardy attempt, no
+doubt, but he would have been heartily ashamed of himself if he had not
+made the effort. Wesley, of course, was not a very exciting place in
+which to spend the winter, but it was better than being under
+obligations to Talbot Rutter; and then he could doubtless earn enough at
+the law to pay his board--at least he would try.
+
+He had reached the end of the walk and had already caught the glow of
+the overhead lantern in the hall of the Horn mansion lighting up the
+varied costumes of the guests as Malachi swung back the front door,
+revealing the girls in their pink and white nubias, the gallants in long
+cloaks with scarlet linings, the older men in mufflers, and the mothers
+and grandmothers in silk hoods. There was no question of Richard's
+popularity.
+
+"Clar to goodness, Marse George, you is a sight for sore eyes," cried
+Malachi, unhooking the clasp of the velvet collar and helping him off
+with his cloak. "I ain't never seen ye looking spryer! Yes, sah, Marse
+Richard's inside and he'll be mighty glad ye come. Yes--jedge--jes's
+soon as I--Dat's it, mistis--I'll take dat shawl--No, sah, Marse
+Richard ain't begun yit. Dis way, ladies," and so it had gone on since
+the opening rat-a-tat-tat on the old brass knocker had announced the
+arrival of the first guest.
+
+Nor was there any question that everybody who could by any possibility
+have availed themselves of Richard's invitation had put in an
+appearance. Most of the men from the club known to these pages were
+present, together with their wives and children--those who were old
+enough to sit up late; and Nathan Gill, without his flute this time, but
+with ears wide open--he was beginning to get gray, was Nathan, although
+he wouldn't admit it; and Miss Virginia Clendenning in high waist and
+voluminous skirts, fluffy side curls, and a new gold chain for her
+eyeglasses--gold rims, too, of course--not to mention the Murdochs,
+Stirlings, Gatchells, Captain Warfield and his daughter, Bowdoin, and
+Purviance. They were all there; everybody, in fact, who could squeeze
+inside the drawing-room; while those who couldn't filled the hall and
+even the stairs--wherever Richard's voice could be heard.
+
+St. George edged into the packed room, swept his glance over the throng,
+and made his way through the laughing groups, greeting every one right
+and left, old and young, as he moved--a kiss here on the upturned cheek
+of some pretty girl whom he had carried in his arms when a baby; a
+caressing pat of approbation on some young gallant's shoulder; a bend of
+the head in respectful homage to those he knew but slightly--the
+Baroness de Trobiand, Mrs. Cheston's friend, being one of them; a hearty
+hand held out to the men who had been away for the summer--interrupted
+now and then by some such sally from a young bride as--"Oh, you mean
+Uncle George! No--I'm not going to love you any more! You promised you
+would come to my party and you didn't, and my cotillon was all spoiled!"
+or a--"Why, Temple, you dear man!-I'm so glad to see you! Don't forget
+my dinner on Thursday. The Secretary is coming and I want you to sit
+between him and Lord Atherton"--a sort of triumphal procession,
+really--until he reached the end of the room and stood at Kate's side.
+
+"Well, sweetheart!" he cried gayly, caressing her soft hand before his
+fingers closed over it. Then his face hardened. "Ah, Mr. Willits! So
+you, too, must come under the spell of Mr. Horn's voice," and without
+waiting for a reply continued as if nothing had interrupted the joy of
+his greeting. "You should sit down somewhere, my dear Kate--get as near
+to Richard as you can, so you can watch his face--that's the best part
+of it. And I should advise you, too, Mr. Willits, to miss none of his
+words--it will be something you will remember all your life."
+
+Kate looked up in his face with a satisfied smile. She was more than
+glad that her Uncle George was so gracious to her escort, especially
+to-night when he was to meet a good many people for the first time.
+
+"I'll take the stool, then, dear Uncle George," she answered with a
+merry laugh. "Go get it, please, Mr. Willits--the one under the sofa."
+Then, with a toss of her head and a coquettish smile at St. George:
+"What a gadabout you are; do you know I've been three times to see you,
+and not a soul in your house and the front door wide open, and
+everything done up in curl papers as if you were going to move away for
+good and all and never coming back? And do you know that you haven't
+been near me for a whole week? What do you mean by breaking my heart?
+Thank you, Mr. Willits; put the stool right here, so I can look up into
+Mr. Horn's eyes as Uncle George wants me to. I've known the time,
+sir"--and she arched her brows at St. George--"when you would be
+delighted to have me look my prettiest at you, but now before I am
+halfway across the park you slip out of the basement door to avoid me
+and--No!--no--no apologies--you are just tired of me!"
+
+St. George laughed gayly in return, his palms flattened against each
+other and held out in supplication; but he made no defence. He was
+studying the couple, his mind on the bearing and manner of the young man
+toward the woman he was pursuing so relentlessly. He saw that he had
+completely regained his health, his clear eyes and ruddy skin and the
+spring with which he moved denoting a man in perfect physical condition.
+He discovered, too, that he was extremely well dressed and his costume
+all that it should be--especially the plum-colored coat, which fitted
+his shoulders to perfection; his linen of the whitest and finest, each
+ruffle in flutes; the waist-coat embroidered in silk; the pumps of the
+proper shape and the stockings all that could be desired--except
+perhaps--and a grim smile crossed his face--that the silk scarf was a
+shade out of key with the prevailing color of his make-up, particularly
+his hair; but, then, that was to be expected of a man who had a slight
+flaw in his ancestry. He wondered if she had noticed it and studied her
+face for an answer. No! She had not noticed it. In fact there were very
+many things she was overlooking in these last days of his wooing, he
+thought to himself.
+
+Suddenly he became occupied with Kate's beauty. He thought he had never
+seen her so bewitching or in such good spirits. From his six feet and an
+inch of vantage his eyes followed her sloping shoulders and tapering
+arms and rested on her laughing, happy face--rose-colored in the soft
+light of the candles--a film of lace looped at her elbows, her wonderful
+hair caught in a coil at the back: not the prevailing fashion but one
+most becoming to her. What had not this admixture of Scotch and Virginia
+blood--this intermingling of robust independence with the gentle,
+yielding feminine qualities of the Southern-born woman--done for this
+girl?
+
+Richard clapped his hands to attract attention, and advancing a step in
+front of the big easy-chair which Malachi had just pulled out for him,
+raised his fingers to command silence.
+
+All eyes were instantly turned his way. Alert and magnetic, dignified
+and charming, he stood in the full glow of the overhead chandelier, its
+light falling upon his snuff-brown coat with its brass buttons,
+pale-yellow waistcoat, and the fluff of white silk about his throat--
+his grave, thoughtful face turned toward Kate as his nearest guest, his
+glance sweeping the crowded room as if to be sure that everybody was at
+ease; Malachi close behind awaiting his master's orders to further
+adjust the chair and reading-lamp.
+
+In the interim of the hush Kate had settled herself at Richard's feet on
+the low stool that Willits had brought, the young man standing behind
+her, the two making a picture that attracted general attention; some
+wondering at her choice, while others were outspoken in their admiration
+of the pair who seemed so wonderfully suited to each other.
+
+"I have a rare story," Richard began "to read to you to-night, my good
+friends, one you will never forget; one, indeed, which I am sure the
+world at large will never forget. I shall read it as best I can, begging
+your indulgence especially in rendering the dialect parts, which, if
+badly done, often mar both the pathos and humor of the text." Here he
+settled himself in his chair and picked up the small volume, Malachi,
+now that his service was over, tiptoeing out to his place in the hall so
+as to be ready for belated arrivals.
+
+The room grew silent. Even Mrs. Cheston, who rarely ceased talking when
+she had anything to say--and she generally did have something to
+say--folded her hands in her lap and settled herself in her arm-chair,
+her whole attention fastened on the reader. St. George, who had been
+talking to her, moved up a chair so he could watch Kate's face the
+better.
+
+Again Richard raised his voice:
+
+"The time is of the present, and the scene is laid in one of those small
+towns outside London. I shall read the whole story, omitting no word of
+the text, for only then will you fully grasp the beauty of the author's
+style."
+
+He began in low, clear tones reciting the contest between the hum of the
+kettle and the chirp of the cricket; the music of his voice lending
+added charm to the dual song. Then there followed in constantly
+increasing intensity the happy home life of bewitching Dot Perrybingle
+and her matter-of-fact husband, John the Carrier, with sleepy Tilly
+Slowboy and the Baby to fill out the picture; the gradual unfolding of
+the events that led up to the cruel marriage about to take place between
+old Tackleton, the mean toy merchant, and sweet May Fielding, in love
+with the sailor boy, Edward, lost at sea; the finding of the mysterious
+deaf old man by John the Carrier, and the bringing him home in his cart
+to Dot, who kept him all night because his friends had not called for
+him; the rapid growth of a love affair between Dot and this old man, who
+turned out to be a handsome young fellow; the heart-rending discovery by
+John, through the spying of Tackleton, that Dot was untrue to him, she
+meeting the man clandestinely and adjusting the disguise for him,
+laughing all the while at the ruse she was helping him to play; the
+grief of John when he realized the truth, he sitting all night alone by
+the fire trying to make up his mind whether he would creep upstairs and
+murder the villain who had stolen the heart of his little Dot, or
+forgive her because he was so much older than she and it was, therefore,
+natural for her to love a younger man; and finally the preparations at
+the church, where Tackleton was to wed the beautiful May Fielding, who,
+broken-hearted over the death of her sailor boy, had at last succumbed
+to her mother's wishes and consented to join Tackleton at the altar.
+
+For an hour Richard's well-modulated, full-toned voice rolled on, the
+circle drawing closer and closer with their ears and hearts, as the
+characters, one after another, became real and alive under the reader's
+magical rendering. Dot Perrybingle's cheery, laughing accents;
+Tackleton's sharp, rasping tones; John the Carrier's simple,
+straightforward utterances and the soft, timid cadence of old Caleb, the
+toy maker--(drowned Edward's father)--and his blind daughter Bertha
+were recognized as soon as the reader voiced their speech. So thrilling
+was the story of their several joys and sorrows that Kate, unconscious
+of her surroundings, had slipped from her low stool, and with the weight
+of her body resting on her knees, sat searching Richard's face, the
+better to catch every word that fell from his lips.
+
+To heighten the effect of what was the most dramatic part of the
+story--the return of the wedding party to the Carrier's house, where
+Dot, Caleb, and his blind daughter awaited them--Richard paused for a
+moment as if to rest his voice--the room the while deathly still, the
+loosening of a pent-up breath now and then showing how tense was the
+emotion. Then he went on:
+
+"Are those wheels upon the road, Bertha?", cried Dot. "You've a quick
+ear, Bertha--And now you hear them stopping at the garden gate! And now
+you hear a step outside the door--the same step, Bertha, is it not--And
+now--"
+
+Dot uttered a wild cry of uncontrollable delight, and running up to
+Caleb put her hand upon his eyes, as a young man rushed into the room,
+and, flinging away his hat into the air, came sweeping down upon them.
+
+"Is it over?" cried Dot.
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Happily over?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Do you recollect the voice, dear Caleb? Did you ever hear the like of
+it before?" cried Dot.
+
+"If my boy Edward in the Golden South Americas was alive--" cried Caleb,
+trembling.
+
+"He is alive!" shrieked Dot, removing her hands from his eyes and
+clapping them in ecstasy; "look at him! See where he stands before you,
+healthy and strong! Your own dear son! Your own dear, living, loving
+brother, Bertha!"
+
+All honor to the little creature for her transports! All honor to her
+tears and laughter, when the three were locked in one another's arms!
+All honor to the heartiness with which she met the sunburnt,
+sailor-fellow, with his dark, streaming hair, halfway, and never turned
+her rosy little mouth aside, but suffered him to kiss it freely, and to
+press her to his bounding heart!
+
+"Now tell him (John) all, Edward," sobbed Dot, "and don't spare me, for
+nothing shall make me spare myself in his eyes ever again."
+
+"I was the man," said Edward.
+
+"And you could steal disguised into the home of your old friend,"
+rejoined the carrier ...
+
+"But I had a passion for her."
+
+"You!"
+
+"I had," rejoined the other, "and she returned it--I heard twenty miles
+away that she was false to me--I had no mind to reproach her but to see
+for myself."
+
+Once more Richard's voice faltered, and again it rang clear, this time
+in Dot's tones:
+
+"But when she knew that Edward was alive, John, and had come back--and
+when she--that's me, John--told him all--and how his sweetheart had
+believed him to be dead, and how she had been over-persuaded by her
+mother into a marriage--and when she--that's me again, John--told him
+they were not married, though close upon it--and when he went nearly mad
+for joy to hear it--then she--that's me again--said she would go and
+sound his sweetheart--and she did--and they were married an hour
+ago!--John, an hour ago! And here's the bride! And Gruff and Tackleton
+may die a bachelor! And I'm a happy little woman, May, God bless you!"
+
+Little woman, how she sobbed! John Perrybingle would have caught her in
+his arms. But no; she wouldn't let him.
+
+"Don't love me yet, please, John! Not for a long time yet! No--keep
+there, please, John! When I laugh at you, as I sometimes do, John, and
+call you clumsy, and a dear old goose, and names of that sort, it's
+because I love you, John, so well. And when I speak of people being
+middle-aged and steady, John, and pretend that we are a humdrum couple,
+going on in a jog-trot sort of way, it's only because I'm such a silly
+little thing, John, that I like, sometimes, to act a kind of play with
+Baby, and all that, and make believe."
+
+She saw that he was coming, and stopped him again. But she was very
+nearly too late.
+
+"No, don't love me for another minute or two, if you please, John! When
+I first came home here I was half afraid I mighn't learn to love you
+every bit as well as I hoped and prayed I might--being so very young,
+John. But, dear John, every day and hour I love you more and more. And
+if I could have loved you better than I do, the noble words I heard you
+say this morning would have made me. But I can't. All the affection that
+I had (it was a great deal, John) I gave you, as you well deserve, long,
+long ago, and I have no more left to give. Now, my dear husband, take me
+to your heart again! That's my home, John; and never, never think of
+sending me to any other."
+
+Richard Stopped and picking up a glass from the table moistened his
+lips. The silence continued. Down more than one face the tears were
+trickling, as they have trickled down millions of faces since. Kate had
+crept imperceptibly nearer until her hands could have touched Richard's
+knees. When Willits bent over her with a whispered comment a slight
+shiver ran through her, but she neither answered nor turned her head. It
+was only when Richard's voice finally ceased with the loud chirp of the
+cricket at the close of the beloved story, and St. George had helped her
+to her feet, that she seemed to awake to a sense of where she was. Even
+then she looked about her in a dazed way, as if she feared some one had
+been probing her heart--hanging back till the others had showered their
+congratulations on the reader. Then leaning forward she placed her hands
+in Richard's as if to steady herself, and with a sigh that seemed to
+come from the depths of her nature bent her head and kissed him softly
+on the cheek.
+
+When the eggnog was being served and the guests were broken up into
+knots and groups, all discussing the beauty of the reading, she suddenly
+left Willits, who had followed her every move as if he had a prior right
+to her person, and going up to St. George, led him out of the room to
+one of the sofas in Richard's study, her lips quivering, the undried
+tears still trembling on her eyelids. She did not release his hand as
+they took their seats. Her fingers closed only the tighter, as if she
+feared he would slip from her grasp.
+
+"It was all so beautiful and so terrible, Uncle George," she moaned at
+last--"and all so true. Such awful mistakes are made and then it is too
+late. And nobody understands--nobody--nobody!" She paused, as if the
+mere utterance pained her, and then to St. George's amazement asked
+abruptly "Is there nothing yet from Harry?"
+
+St. George looked at her keenly, wondering whether he had caught the
+words aright. It had been months since Harry's name had crossed her
+lips.
+
+"No, nothing," he answered simply, trying to fathom her purpose and
+completely at sea as to her real motive--"not for some months. Not since
+he left the ship."
+
+"And do you think he is in any danger?" She had released his hand, and
+with her fingers resting on the sleeve of his coat sat looking into his
+eyes as if to read their meaning.
+
+"I don't know," he replied in a non-committal tone, still trying to
+understand her purpose. "He meant then to go to the mountains, so he
+wrote his mother. This may account for our not hearing. Why do you ask?
+Have you had any news of him yourself?" he added, studying her face for
+some solution of her strange attitude.
+
+She sank back on the cushions. "No, he never writes to me." Then, as if
+some new train of thought had forced its way into her mind, she
+exclaimed suddenly: "What mountains?"
+
+"Some range back of Rio, if I remember rightly. He said he--"
+
+"Rio! But there is yellow fever at Rio!" she cried, with a start as she
+sat erect in her seat, the pupils of her eyes grown to twice their size.
+"Father lost half of one of his crews at Rio. He heard so to-day. It
+would be dreadful for--for--his mother--if anything should happen to
+him."
+
+Again St. George scrutinized her face, trying to probe deep down in her
+heart. Had she, after all, some affection left for this boy lover--and
+her future husband within hearing distance! No! This was not his
+Kate--he understood it all now. It was the spell of the story that still
+held her. Richard's voice had upset her, as it had done half the room.
+
+"Yes, it is dreadful for everybody," he added. And then, in a
+perfunctory manner, as being perhaps the best way to lead the
+conversation into other channels, added: "And the suspense will be worse
+now--for me at any rate--for I, too, am going away where letters reach
+me but seldom."
+
+Her hand closed convulsively over his.
+
+"You going away! YOU!" she cried in a half-frightened tone. "Oh, please
+don't, Uncle George! Oh!--I don't want you away from me! Why must you
+go? Oh, no! Not now--not now!"
+
+Her distress was so marked and her voice so pleading that he was about
+to tell her the whole story, even to that of the shifts he had been put
+to to get food for himself and Todd, when he caught sight of Willits
+making his way through the throng to where they sat. His lips closed
+tight. This man would always be a barrier between him and the girl he
+had loved ever since her babyhood.
+
+"Well, my dear Kate," he replied calmly, his eyes still on Willits, who
+in approaching from the other room had been detained by a guest, "you
+see I must go. Mr. Pawson wants me out of the way while he fixes up some
+of my accounts, and so he suggested that I go back to Wesley for a few
+months." He paused for an instant and, still keeping his eye on Willets,
+added: "And now one thing more, my dear Kate, before your escort claims
+you"--here his voice sank to a whisper--"promise me that if Harry writes
+to you you will send him a kind, friendly letter in return. It can do
+you no harm now, nor would Harry misunderstand it--your wedding is so
+near. A letter would greatly cheer him in his loneliness."
+
+"But he won't write!" she exclaimed with some bitterness--she had not
+yet noticed Willits's approach--"he'll never write or speak to me
+again."
+
+"But you will if he does?" pleaded St. George, the thought of his boy's
+loneliness overmastering every other feeling.
+
+"But he won't, I tell you--never--NEVER!"
+
+"But if he should, my child? If--"
+
+He stopped and raised his head. Willits stood gazing down at them,
+searching St. George's face, as if to learn the meaning of the
+conference: he knew that he did not favor his suit.
+
+Kate looked up and her face flushed.
+
+"Yes--in one minute, Mr. Willits," and without a word of any kind to St.
+George she rose from the sofa and with her arm in Willits's left the
+room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+
+
+One winter evening some weeks after St. George's departure, Pawson sat
+before a smouldering fire in Temple's front room, reading by the light
+of a low lamp. He had rearranged the furniture--what was left of
+it--both in this and the adjoining room, in the expectation that Fogbin
+(Gorsuch's attorney) would move in, but so far he had not appeared, nor
+had any word come from either Gorsuch or Colonel Rutter; nor had any one
+either written or called upon him in regard to the overdue payment;
+neither had any legal papers been served.
+
+This prolonged and ominous silence disturbed him; so much so that he had
+made it a point to be as much in his office as possible should his enemy
+spring any unexpected trap.
+
+It was, therefore, with some misgivings that he answered a quick,
+impatient rap on his front door at the unusual hour of ten o'clock. If
+it were Fogbin he had everything ready for his comfort; if it were any
+one else he would meet him as best he could: no legal papers, at any
+rate, could be served at that hour.
+
+He swung back the door and a full-bearded, tightly-knit, well-built man
+in rough clothes stepped in. In the dim light of the overhead lamp he
+caught the flash of a pair of determined eyes set in a strong, forceful
+face.
+
+"I want Mr. Temple," said the man, who had now removed his cap and stood
+looking about him, as if making an inventory of the scanty furniture.
+
+"He is not here," replied Pawson, rummaging the intruder's face for some
+clew to his identity and purpose in calling at so late an hour.
+
+"Are you sure?" There was doubt as well as marked surprise in the man's
+tone. He evidently did not believe a word of the statement.
+
+"Very sure," rejoined the attorney in a more positive tone, his eyes
+still on the stranger. "He left town some weeks ago."
+
+The intruder turned sharply, and with a brisk inquisitive movement
+strode past him and pushed open the dining-room door. There he stood for
+a moment, his eyes roaming over the meagre appointments of the
+interior--the sideboard, bare of everything but a pitcher and some
+tumblers--the old mahogany table littered with law books and papers--the
+mantel stripped of its clock and candelabras. Then he stepped inside,
+and without explanation of any kind, crossed the room, opened the door
+of St. George's bedroom, and swept a comprehensive glance around the
+despoiled interior. Once he stopped and peered into the gloom as if
+expecting to find the object of his search concealed in its shadows.
+
+"What has happened here?" he demanded in a voice which plainly showed
+his disappointment.
+
+"Do you mean what has become of the rest of the furniture?" asked the
+attorney in reply, gaining time to decide upon his course.
+
+"Yes, who is responsible for this business?" he exclaimed angrily. "Has
+it been done during his absence?"
+
+Pawson hesitated. That the intruder was one of Gorsuch's men, and that
+he had been sent in advance on an errand of investigation, was no longer
+to be doubted. He, however, did not want to add any fuel to his
+increasing heat, so he answered simply:
+
+"Mr. Temple got caught in the Patapsco failure and it went pretty hard
+with him, and so what he didn't actually need he sold."
+
+The man gave a start, his features hardening; but whether of surprise or
+dissatisfaction Pawson could not tell.
+
+"And when it was all gone he went away--is that what you mean?" This
+came in a softened tone.
+
+"Yes--that seems to be the size of it. I suppose you come about--some"--
+again he hesitated, not knowing exactly where the man stood--"about some
+money due you?--Am I right?"
+
+"No, I came to see Mr. Temple, and I must see him, and at once. How long
+will he be gone?"
+
+"All winter--perhaps longer." The attorney had begun to breathe again.
+The situation might not be as serious as he had supposed. If he wanted
+to see Mr. Temple himself, and no one else would do, there was still
+chance of delay in the wiping out of the property.
+
+Again the man's eyes roamed over the room, the bareness of which seemed
+still to impress him. Then he asked simply: "Where will a letter reach
+him?"
+
+"I can't say exactly. I thought he had gone to Virginia--but he doesn't
+answer any of my communications."
+
+A look of suspicion crept into the intruder's eyes.
+
+"You're not trying to deceive me, are you? It is very important that I
+should see Mr. Temple, and at once." Then his manner altered. "You've
+forgotten me, Mr. Pawson, but I have not forgotten you--my name is
+Rutter. I lived here with Mr. Temple before I went to sea, three years
+ago. I am just home--I left the ship an hour ago. I'll sit down if you
+don't mind--I've still got my sea-legs on and am a little wobbly."
+
+Pawson twisted his thin body and bent his neck, his eyes glued to the
+speaker's face. There was not a trace of young Harry in the features.
+
+"Well, you don't look like him," he replied incredulously--"he was
+slender--not half your size, and--"
+
+"Yes--I don't blame you. I am a good deal heavier; may be too a beard
+makes some change in a man's face. But you don't really doubt me, do
+you? Have you forgotten the bills that man Gadgem brought in?--the five
+hundred dollars due Slater, and the horse Hampson sold me--the one I
+shot?" and one of his old musical laughs rose to his lips.
+
+Pawson sprang forward and seized the intruder's hand. He would recognize
+that laugh among a thousand:
+
+"Yes--I know you now! It's all come back to me," he cried joyously. "But
+you gave me a terrible start, Mr. Rutter. I thought you had come to
+clear up what was left. Oh!--but I AM glad you are back. Your uncle--you
+always called him so, I remember--your uncle has had an awful hard time
+of it--had to sell most of his things--terrible--terrible! And then,
+too, he has grieved so over you--asking me, sometimes two or three times
+a day, for letters from you--asking me questions and worrying over your
+not coming and not answering. Oh, this is fine. Now may be we can save
+the situation. You don't mind my shaking your hand again, do you? It's
+so good to know there is somebody who can help. I have been all alone so
+far except Gadgem--who has been a treasure. You remember him. Why didn't
+you let Mr. Temple know you were coming?"
+
+"I couldn't. I have been up in the mountains of Brazil, and coming home
+went ashore--got wrecked. These clothes I bought from a sailor," and he
+opened his rough jacket the wider.
+
+"Yes--that's exactly what I heard him say--that's what he thought--that
+is, that you were where you couldn't write, although I never heard him
+say anything about shipwreck. I remember his telling Mr. Willits and
+Miss Seymour that same thing the morning he left--that you couldn't
+write. They came to see him off."
+
+Harry edged his chair nearer the fireplace and propped one shoe on the
+fender as if to dry it, although the night was fair. The mention of
+Kate's and her suitor's names had sent the blood to his head and he was
+using the subterfuge in the effort to regain control of himself before
+Pawson should read all his secrets.
+
+Shifting his body he rested his head on his hand, the light of the lamp
+bringing into clearer relief his fresh, healthy skin, finely modelled
+nose, and wide brow, the brown hair, clipped close to his head, still
+holding its glossy sheen. For some seconds he did not speak: the low
+song of the fire seemed to absorb him. Now and then Pawson, who was
+watching him intently, heard him strangle a rebellious sigh, as if some
+old memory were troubling him. His hand dropped and with a quick
+movement he faced his companion again.
+
+"I have been away a long time, Mr. Pawson," he said in a thoughtful
+tone. "For three months--four now--I have had no letters from anybody.
+It was my fault partly, but let that go. I want you to answer some
+questions, and I want you to tell me the truth--all the truth. I
+haven't any use for any other kind of man--do you understand? Is my
+mother alive?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And Alec? Is he all right?"
+
+Pawson nodded.
+
+"And my uncle? Is he ruined?--so badly ruined that he is suffering? Tell
+me." There was a peculiar pathos in his tone--so much so that Pawson,
+who had been standing, settled into a chair beside him that his answers
+might, if possible, be the more intimate and sympathetic.
+
+"I'm afraid he is. The only hope is the postponement in some way of the
+foreclosure of the mortgage on this house until times get better. It
+wouldn't bring its face value to-day."
+
+Harry caught his breath: "My God!--you don't tell me so! Poor Uncle
+George--so fine and splendid--so good to everybody, and he has come to
+this! And about this mortgage--who owns it?"
+
+"Mr. Gorsuch, I understand, owns it now: he bought it of the Tyson
+estate."
+
+"You mean John Gorsuch--my father's man of business?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And was there nothing left?--no money coming in from anywhere?"
+
+Pawson shook his head: "We collected all that some time ago--it came
+from some old ground rents."
+
+"And how has he lived since?" He wanted to hear it all; he could help
+better if he knew how far down the ladder to begin.
+
+"From hand to mouth, really." And then there followed his own and
+Gadgem's efforts to keep the wolf from the door; the sale of the guns,
+saddles, and furniture; the wrench over the Castullux cup--and what a
+godsend it was that Kirk got such a good price for it--down to the
+parting with the last article that either or both of them could sell or
+pawn, including his four splendid setters.
+
+As the sad story fell from the attorney's sympathetic lips Harry would
+now and then cover his face with his hands in the effort to hide the
+tears. He knew that the ruin was now complete. He knew, too, that he had
+been the cause of it. Then his thoughts reverted to the old regime and
+its comforts: those which his uncle had shared with him so generously.
+
+"And what has become of my uncle's servants?" he asked--"his cook, Aunt
+Jemima, and his body-servant, Todd?"
+
+"I don't know what has become of the cook, but he took Todd with him."
+
+Harry heaved a sigh of relief. If Todd was with him life would still be
+made bearable for his uncle. Perhaps, after all, a winter with Tom
+Coston was the wisest thing he could have done.
+
+One other question now trembled on his lips. It was one he felt he had
+no right to ask--not of Pawson--but it was his only opportunity, and he
+must know the truth if he was to carry out the other plans he had in
+view the day he dropped everything and came home without warning. At
+last he asked casually:
+
+"Do you know whether my father returned to Uncle George the money he
+paid out for me?" Not that it was important--more as if he wanted to be
+posted on current events.
+
+"He tried, but Mr. Temple wouldn't take it. I had the matter in hand,
+and know. This was some three years ago. He has never offered it
+since--not to my knowledge."
+
+Harry's face lightened. Some trace of decency was still left in the
+Rutter blood! This money was in all honor owed by his father and might
+still become an asset if he and his uncle should ever become reconciled.
+
+"And can you tell me how they all are--out at Moorlands? Have you seen
+my father lately?"
+
+"Not your father, but I met your old servant, Alec, a few days ago."
+
+"Alec!--dear old Alec! Tell me about him. And my mother--was she all
+right? What did Alec say, and how did the old man look?"
+
+"Yes; your mother was well. He said they were all well, except Colonel
+Rutter, whose eyes troubled him. Alec seemed pretty much the same--may
+be a little older."
+
+Harry's mind began to wander. The room and his companion were forgotten.
+He was again at Moorlands, the old negro following him about, his dear
+mother sitting by his bed or kissing him goodnight.
+
+For an instant he sat gazing into the smouldering. embers absorbed in
+his thoughts. Then as if some new vista had opened out before him he
+asked suddenly:
+
+"You don't know what he was doing in town, do you? Was my mother with
+him?"
+
+"No, he was alone. He had brought some things in for Mr. Seymour--some
+game or something, if I remember right. There's to be a wedding there
+soon, so I hear. Yes, now I think of it, it WAS game--some partridges,
+perhaps, your father had sent in. The old man asked about you--he always
+does. And now, Mr. Rutter, tell me about yourself--have you done well?"
+He didn't think he had, judging from his general appearance, but he
+wanted to be sure in case St. George asked him.
+
+Harry settled in his chair, his broad shoulders filling the back. The
+news of Kate's wedding was what he had expected. Perhaps it was already
+over. He was glad, however, the information had come to him unsought.
+For an instant he made no reply to Pawson's inquiry, then he answered
+slowly: "Yes, and no. I have made a little money--not much--but
+some--not enough to pay Uncle George everything I owe him--not yet;
+another time I shall do better. I was down with fever for a while and
+that cost me a good deal of what I had saved. But I HAD to come back. I
+met a man who told me Uncle George was ruined; that he had left this
+house and that somebody had put a sign on it, I thought at first that
+this must refer to you and your old arrangement in the basement, until I
+questioned him closer. I knew how careless he had always been about his
+money transactions, and was afraid some one had taken advantage of him.
+That's why I was so upset when I came in a while ago: I thought they had
+stolen his furniture as well. The ship Mohican--one of the old Barkeley
+line--was sailing the day I reached the coast and I got aboard and
+worked my passage home. I learned to do that on my way out. I learned to
+wear a beard too. Not very becoming, is it?"--and a low, forced laugh
+escaped his lips. "But shaving is not easy aboard ship or in the mines."
+
+Pawson made no reply. He had been studying his guest the closer while he
+was talking, his mind more on the man than on what he was saying. The
+old Harry, which the dim light of the hall and room had hidden, was
+slowly coming back to him:--the quick turn of the head; the way his lips
+quivered when he laughed; the exquisitely modelled nose and brow, and
+the way the hair grew on the temples. The tones of his voice, too, had
+the old musical ring. It was the same madcap, daredevil boy mellowed and
+strengthened by contact with the outside world. Next he scrutinized his
+hands, their backs bronzed and roughened by contact with the weather,
+and waited eagerly until some gesture opened the delicately turned
+fingers, exposing the white palms, and felt relieved and glad when he
+saw that they showed no rough usage. His glance rested on his
+well-turned thighs, slender waist, and broad, strong shoulders and
+arms--and then his eyes--so clear, and his skin so smooth and fresh--a
+clean soul in a clean body! What joy would be Temple's when he got his
+arms around this young fellow once more!
+
+The wanderer reached for his cap and pushed back his chair. For an
+instant he stood gazing into the smouldering coals as if he hated to
+leave their warmth, his brow clouded, his shoulders drawn back. He had
+all the information he wanted--all he had come in search of, although it
+was not exactly what he wished or what he had expected:--his uncle
+ruined and an exile; his father half blind and Kate's wedding expected
+any week. That was enough at least for one night.
+
+He stepped forward and grasped Pawson's hand, his well-knit, alert body
+in contrast to the loosely jointed, long-legged, young attorney.
+
+"I must thank you, Mr. Pawson," he said in his old outspoken, hearty way
+"for your frankness, and I must also apologize for my apparent rudeness
+when I first entered your door; but, as I told you, I was so astounded
+and angry at what I saw that I hardly knew what I was doing. And now one
+thing more before I take my leave: if Mr. Temple does not want his
+present retreat known--and I gather from the mysterious way in which you
+have spoken that he does not--let me tell you that I do not want mine
+known either. Please do not say to any one that you have seen me, or
+answer any questions--not for a time, at least. Good-night!"
+
+With the closing of the front door behind him the exile came to a
+standstill on the top step and looked about him. Across the park--beyond
+the trees, close sheltered under the wide protecting roof, lay Kate. All
+the weary miles out and back had this picture been fixed in his mind.
+She was doubtless asleep as it was now past eleven o'clock: he would
+know by the lights. But even the sight of the roof that sheltered her
+would, in itself, be a comfort. It had been many long years since he had
+breathed the same air with her; slept under the same stars; walked where
+her feet had trodden. For some seconds he stood undecided. Should he
+return to the Sailors' House where he had left his few belongings and
+banish all thoughts of her from his mind now that his worst fears had
+been confirmed? or should he yield to the strain on his heart-strings?
+If she were asleep the whole house would be dark; if she were at some
+neighbor's and Mammy Henny was sitting up for her, the windows in the
+bedroom would be dark and the hall lamp still burning--he had watched
+it so often before and knew the signs.
+
+Drawing the collar of his rough peajacket close about his throat and
+crowding his cap to his ears, he descended the steps and with one of his
+quick, decided movements plunged into the park, now silent and deserted.
+
+As he neared the Seymour house he became conscious, from the glow of
+lights gleaming between the leafless branches of the trees, that
+something out of the common was going on inside. The house was ablaze
+from the basement to the roof, with every window-shade illumined.
+Outside the steps, and as far out as the curb, lounged groups of
+attendants, while in the side street, sheltered by the ghostly trees,
+there could be made out the wheels and hoods of carryalls and the glint
+of harness. Now and then the door would open and a bevy of muffled
+figures--the men in cloaks, the girls in nubias wound about their heads
+and shoulders--would pass out. The Seymours were evidently giving a
+ball, or was it--and the blood left his face and little chills ran loose
+through his hair--was it Kate's wedding night? Pawson had said that a
+marriage would soon take place, and in the immediate future. It was
+either this or an important function of some kind, and on a much more
+lavish scale than had been old Prim's custom in the days when he knew
+him. Then the contents of Alec's basket rose in his mind. That was why
+his father had sent the pheasants! Perhaps both he and his mother were
+inside!
+
+Sick at heart he turned on his heel and with quickened pace retraced his
+steps. He would not be a spy, and he could not he an eavesdropper. As
+the thought forced itself on his mind, the fear that he might meet some
+one whom he would know, or who would know him, overtook him. So great
+was his anxiety that it was only when he had left the park far behind
+him on his way back to the Sailors' House, that he regained his
+composure. He was prepared to face the truth, and all of it whatever it
+held in store for him; but he must first confront his father and learn
+just how he stood with him; then he would see his mother and Alec, and
+then he would find St. George: Kate must come last.
+
+The news that his father had offered to pay his debts--although he did
+not intend that that should relieve him in any way of his own
+responsibility to his uncle--kindled fresh hopes in his heart and
+buoyed him up. Now that his father had tried repeatedly to repair the
+wrong he had done it might only be necessary to throw himself on his
+knees before him and be taken back into his heart and arms. To see him,
+then, was his first duty and this he would begin to carry out in the
+morning. As to his meeting his mother and Alec--should he fail with his
+father--that must be undertaken with more care, for he could not place
+himself in the position of sneaking home and using the joy his return
+would bring them as a means to soften his father's heart. Yes, he would
+find his father first, then his mother and Alec. If his father received
+him the others would follow. If he was repulsed, he must seek out some
+other way.
+
+This over he would find St. George. He knew exactly where his uncle was,
+although he had not said so to Pawson. He was not at Coston's, nor
+anywhere in the vicinity of Wesley, but at Craddock, on the bay--a
+small country house some miles distant, where he and his dogs had often
+spent days and weeks during the ducking season. St. George had settled
+down there to rest and get away from his troubles; that was why he had
+not answered Pawson's letters.
+
+Striding along with his alert, springing step, he swung through the
+deserted and unguarded Marsh Market, picked his way between the piles of
+produce and market carts, and plunging down a narrow street leading to
+the wharf, halted before a door over which swung a lantern burning a
+green light. Here he entered.
+
+Although it was now near midnight, there were still eight or ten
+seafaring men in the room--several of them members of his own crew
+aboard the Mohican. Two were playing checkers, the others crowded about
+a square table where a game of cards was in progress; wavy lines of
+tobacco smoke floated beneath the dingy ceiling; at one end was a small
+bar where a man in a woollen shirt was filling some short, thick
+tumblers from an earthen jug. It was the ordinary sailors' retreat where
+the men put up before, between, and after their voyages.
+
+One of them at the card-table looked up from his game as Harry entered,
+and called out:
+
+"Man been lookin' for you--comin' back, he says. My trick! Hearts,
+wasn't it?" (this to his companions).
+
+"Do I know him?" asked Harry with a slight start, pausing on his way to
+his bedroom upstairs, where he had left his bag of clothes two hours
+before. Could he have been recognized and shadowed?
+
+"No--don't think so; he's a street vendor. Got some China silks to
+sell--carries his pack on his back and looks as if he'd took up a extry
+'ole in his belt. Hungry, I wouldn't wonder. Wanted to h'ist 'em fur a
+glass o' grog an' a night's lodgin', but Cap wouldn't let him--said
+you'd be back and might help him. Wasn't that it, Cap?"--this to the
+landlord, who nodded in reply.
+
+"How could _I_ help him?" asked Harry, selecting a tallow dip from a row
+on a shelf, but in a tone that implied his own doubt in the query, as
+well as his relief, now that the man was really a stranger.
+
+"Well, this is your port, so I 'ear. Some o' them high-flyers up 'round
+the park might lend a hand, may be, if you'd tip 'em a wink, or some o'
+their women folks might take a shine to 'em."
+
+"Looked hungry, did you say?" Harry asked, lighting the dip at an oil
+lamp that swung near the bar.
+
+"Yes--holler's a drum--see straight through him; tired too--beat out.
+You'd think so if you see him. My play--clubs."
+
+Harry turned to the landlord: "If this man comes in again give him food
+and lodging," and he handed him a bank bill. "If he is here in the
+morning let me see him. I'm going to bed now. Good-night, men!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+
+
+Should I lapse into the easy-flowing style of the chroniclers of the
+period of which I write--(and how often has the scribe wished he
+could)--this chapter would open with the announcement that on this
+particularly bleak, wintry afternoon a gentleman in the equestrian
+costume of the day, and mounted upon a well-groomed, high-spirited white
+horse, might have been seen galloping rapidly up a country lane leading
+to an old-fashioned manor house.
+
+Such, however, would not cover the facts. While the afternoon was
+certainly wintry, and while the rider was unquestionably a gentleman, he
+was by no manner of means attired in velveteen coat and russet-leather
+boots with silver spurs, his saddle-bags strapped on behind, but in a
+rough and badly worn sailor's suit, his free hand grasping a bundle
+carried loose on his pommel. As to the horse neither the immortal James
+or any of his school could truthfully picture this animal as either
+white or high-spirited. He might, it is true, have been born white and
+would in all probability have stayed white but for the many omissions
+and commissions of his earlier livery stable training--traces of which
+could still be found in his scraped sides and gnawed mane and tail; he
+might also have once had a certain commendable spirit had not the ups
+and downs of road life--and they were pretty steep outside Kennedy
+Square--taken it out of him.
+
+It is, however, when I come to the combination of horse and rider that I
+can with entire safety lapse into the flow of the old chroniclers. For
+whatever Harry had forgotten in his many experiences since he last threw
+his leg over Spitfire, horsemanship was not one of them. He still rode
+like a Cherokee and still sat his mount like a prince.
+
+He had had an anxious and busy morning. With the first streak of dawn he
+had written a long letter to his Uncle George, in which he told him of
+his arrival; of his heart-felt sorrow at what Pawson had imparted and of
+his leaving immediately, first for Wesley and then Craddock, as soon as
+he found out how the land lay at Moorlands. This epistle he was careful
+to enclose in another envelope, which he directed to Justice Coston,
+with instructions to forward it with "the least possible delay" to Mr.
+Temple, who was doubtless at Craddock, "and who was imperatively needed
+at home in connection with some matters which required his immediate
+personal attention," and which enclosure, it is just as well to state,
+the honorable justice placed inside the mantel clock, that being the
+safest place for such precious missives, at least until the right owner
+should appear.
+
+This duly mailed, he had returned to the Sailors' House, knocked at the
+door of the upstairs room in which, through his generosity, the street
+vendor lay sleeping, and after waking him up and becoming assured that
+the man was in real distress, had bought at twice their value the China
+silks which had caused the disheartened pedler so many weary hours of
+tramping. These he had tucked under his arm and carried away.
+
+The act was not alone due to his charitable instincts. A much more
+selfish motive influenced him. Indeed the thought came to him in a way
+that had determined him to attend to his mail at early dawn and return
+at sunrise lest the owner should disappear and take the bundle with him.
+The silks were the very things he needed to help him solve one of his
+greatest difficulties. He would try, as the sailor-pedler had done, to
+sell them in the neighborhood of Moorlands--(a common practice in those
+days)--and in this way might gather up the information of which he was
+in search. Pawson had not known him--perhaps the others would not: he
+might even offer the silks to his father without being detected.
+
+With this plan clearly defined in his mind, he had walked into a livery
+stable near the market, but a short distance from his lodgings, with the
+silks in a bundle and after looking the stock over had picked out this
+unprepossessing beast as best able to take him to Moorlands and back
+between sunrise and dark.
+
+As he rode on, leaving the scattered buildings of the town far behind,
+mounting the hills and then striking the turnpike--every rod of which he
+could have found in the dark--his thoughts, like road-swallows, skimmed
+each mile he covered. Here was where he had stopped with Kate when her
+stirrup broke; near the branches of that oak close to the ditch marking
+the triangle of cross-roads he had saved his own and Spitfire's neck by
+a clear jump that had been the talk of the neighborhood for days. On the
+crest of this hill--the one he was then ascending--his father always
+tightened up the brakes on his four-in-hand, and on the slope beyond
+invariably braced himself in his seat, swung his whip, and the flattened
+team swept on and down, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake that blurred
+the road for minutes thereafter.
+
+When noon came he dismounted at a farmer's out-building beside the
+road--he would not trust the public-houses--fed and watered his horse,
+rubbed him down himself, and after an hour's rest pushed on toward the
+fork in the road to Moorlands. Beyond this was a cross-path that led to
+the outbarns and farm stables--a path bordered by thick bushes and which
+skirted a fence in the rear of the manor house itself. Here he intended
+to tie his steed and there he would mount him again should his mission
+fail.
+
+The dull winter sky had already heralded the dusk--it was near four
+o'clock in the afternoon--when he passed some hayricks where a group of
+negroes were at work. One or two raised their heads and then, as if
+reassured, resumed their tasks. This encouraged him to push on the
+nearer--he had evidently been mistaken for one of the many tradespeople
+seeking his father's overseer, either to sell tools or buy produce.
+
+Tying the horse close to the fence--so close that it could not be seen
+from the house--he threw the bundle of silks over his shoulder and
+struck out for the small office in the rear. Here the business of the
+estate was transacted, and here were almost always to be found either
+the overseer or one of his assistants--both of them white. These men
+were often changed, and his chance, therefore, of meeting a stranger was
+all the more likely.
+
+As he approached the low sill of the door which was level with the
+ground, and which now stood wide open, he caught the glow of a fire and
+could make out the figure of a man seated at a desk bending over a mass
+of papers. The man pushed back a green shade which had protected his
+eyes from the glare of a lamp and peered out at him.
+
+It was his father!
+
+The discovery was so unexpected and had come with such suddenness--it
+was rarely in these later days that the colonel was to be found here in
+the afternoon: he was either riding or receiving visitors--that Harry's
+first thought was to shrink back out of sight, or, if discovered, to
+make some excuse for his intrusion and retire. Then his mind changed and
+he stepped boldly in. This was what he had come for and this was what he
+would face.
+
+"I have some China silks to sell," he said in his natural tone of voice,
+turning his head so that while his goods were in sight his face would be
+in shadow.
+
+"Silks! I don't want any silks! Who allowed you to pass in here? Alec!"
+He pushed back his chair and moved to the door. "Alec! Where the devil
+is Alec! He's always where I don't want him!"
+
+"I saw no one to ask, sir," Harry replied mechanically. His father's
+appearance had sent a chill through him; he would hardly have known him
+had he met him on the street. Not only did he look ten years older, but
+the injury to his sight caused him to glance sideways at any one he
+addressed, completely destroying the old fearless look in his eyes.
+
+"You never waited to ask! You walk into my private office unannounced
+and--" here he turned the lamp to see the better. "You're a sailor,
+aren't you?" he added fiercely--a closer view of the intruder only
+heightening his wrath.
+
+"Yes, sir--I'm a sailor," replied Harry simply, his voice dying in his
+throat as he summed up the changes that the years had wrought in the
+colonel's once handsome, determined face--thinner, more shrunken, his
+mustache and the short temple-whiskers almost white.
+
+For an instant his father crumpled a wisp of paper he was holding
+between his fingers and thumb; and then demanded sharply, but with a
+tone of curiosity, as if willing the intruder should tarry a moment
+while he gathered the information:
+
+"How long have you been a sailor?"
+
+"I am just in from my last voyage." He still kept in the shadow although
+he saw his father had so far failed to recognize him. The silks had been
+laid on a chair beside him.
+
+"That's not what I asked you. How long have you been a sailor?" He was
+scanning his face now as best he could, shifting the green shade that he
+might see the better.
+
+"I went to sea three years ago."
+
+"Three years, eh? Where did you go?"
+
+The tone of curiosity had increased. Perhaps the next question would
+lead up to some basis on which he could either declare himself or lay
+the foundation of a declaration to be made the next day--after he had
+seen his mother and Alec.
+
+"To South America. Para was my first port," he answered simply,
+wondering why he wanted to know.
+
+"That's not far from Rio?" He was still looking sideways at him, but
+there was no wavering in his gaze.
+
+"No, not far--Rio was our next stopping place. We had a hard voyage and
+put in to--"
+
+"Do you know a young man by the name of Rutter--slim man with dark hair
+and eyes?" interrupted his father in an angry tone.
+
+Harry started forward, his heart in his mouth, his hands upraised, his
+fingers opening. It was all he could do to restrain himself. "Don't you
+know me, father?" was trembling on his lips. Then something in the sound
+of the colonel's voice choked his utterance. Not now, he thought,
+mastering his emotion--a moment more and he would tell him.
+
+"I have heard of him, sir," he answered when he recovered his speech,
+straining his ears to catch the next word.
+
+"Heard of him, have you? So has everybody else heard of him--a worthless
+scoundrel who broke his mother's heart; a man who disgraced his
+family--a gentleman turned brigand--a renegade who has gone back on his
+blood! Tell him so if you see him! Tell him I said so; I'm his father,
+and know! No--I don't want your silks--don't want anything that has to
+do with sailormen. I am busy--please go away. Don't stop to bundle them
+up--do that outside," and he turned his back and readjusted the shade
+over his eyes.
+
+Harry's heart sank, and a cold faintness stole through his frame. He was
+not angry nor indignant. He was stunned.
+
+Without a word in reply he gathered up the silks from the chair, tucked
+them under his arm, and replacing his cap stepped outside into the fast
+approaching twilight. Whatever the morrow might bring forth, nothing
+more could be done to-day. To have thrown himself at his father's feet
+would only have resulted in his being driven from the grounds by the
+overseer, with the servants looking on--a humiliation he could not
+stand.
+
+As he stood rolling the fabrics into a smaller compass, a gray-haired
+negro in the livery of a house servant passed hurriedly and entered the
+door of the office. Instantly his father's voice rang out:
+
+"Where the devil have you been, Alec? How many times must I tell you to
+look after me oftener. Don't you know I'm half blind and--No--I don't
+want any more wood--I want these vagabonds kept off my grounds. Send Mr.
+Grant to me at once, and don't you lose sight of that man until you have
+seen him to the main road. He says he is a sailor--and I've had enough
+of sailors, and so has everybody else about here."
+
+The negro bowed and backed out of the room. No answer of any kind was
+best when the colonel was in one of his "tantrums."
+
+"I reckon I hab to ask ye, sah, to quit de place--de colonel don't 'low
+nobody to--" he said politely.
+
+Harry turned his face aside and started for the fence. His first thought
+was to drop his bundle and throw his arms around Alec's neck; then he
+realized that this would be worse than his declaring himself to his
+father--he could then be accused of attempting deception by the trick of
+a disguise. So he hurried on to where his horse was tied--his back to
+Alec, the bundle shifted to his left shoulder that he might hide his
+face the better until he was out of sight of the office, the old man
+stumbling on, calling after him:
+
+"No, dat ain't de way. Yer gotter go down de main road; here, man--don't
+I tell yer dat ain't de way."
+
+Harry had now gained the fence and had already begun to loosen the reins
+when Alec, out of breath and highly indignant over the refusal to carry
+out his warning, reached his side.
+
+"You better come right back f'om whar ye started," the old negro puffed;
+"ye can't go dat way or dey'll set de dogs on ye." Here his eyes rested
+on the reins and forelock. "What! you got a horse an' you--"
+
+Harry turned and laid his hand on the old servant's shoulder. He could
+hardly control his voice:
+
+"Don't you know me, Alec? I'm Harry!"
+
+The old man bent down, peered into Harry's eyes, and with a quick spring
+forward grabbed him by both shoulders.
+
+"You my Marse Harry!--you!" His breath was gone now, his whole body in a
+tremble, his eyes bulging from his head.
+
+"Yes, Alec, Harry! It's only the beard. Look at me! I didn't want my
+father to see us--that's why I kept on."
+
+The old servant threw up his hands and caught his young master around
+the neck. For some seconds he could not speak.
+
+"And de colonel druv ye out!" he gasped. "Oh, my Gawd! my Gawd! And ye
+ain't daid, and ye come back home ag'in." He was sobbing now, his head
+on the exile's shoulder, Harry's arms about him--patting his bent back.
+"But yer gotter go back, Marse Harry," he moaned. "He ain't 'sponsible
+these days. He didn't know ye! Come 'long, son; come back wid ol' Alec;
+please come, Marse Harry. Oh, Gawd! ye GOTTER come!"
+
+"No, I'll go home to-night--another day I'll--"
+
+"Ye ain't got no home but dis, I tell ye! Go tell him who ye is--lemme
+run tell him. I won't be a minute. Oh! Marse Harry, I can't let ye go! I
+been dat mizzable widout ye. I ain't neber got over lovin' ye!"
+
+Here a voice from near the office broke out. In the dusk the two could
+just make out the form of the colonel, who was evidently calling to some
+of his people. He was bareheaded and without his shade.
+
+"I've sent Alec to see him safe off the grounds. You go yourself, Mr.
+Grant, and follow him into the highroad; remember that after this I hold
+you responsible for these prowlers."
+
+The two had paused while the colonel was speaking, Harry, gathering the
+reins in his hand, ready to vault into the saddle, and Alec, holding on
+to his coat-sleeves hoping still to detain him.
+
+"I haven't a minute more--quick, Alec, tell me how my mother is."
+
+"She's middlin' po'ly, same's ever; got great rings under her eyes and
+her heart's dat heaby makes abody cry ter look at 'er. But she ain't
+sick, jes' griebin' herse'f to death. Ain't yer gwineter stop and see
+'er? May be I kin git ye in de back way."
+
+"Not now--not here. Bring her to Uncle George's house to-morrow about
+noon, and I will be there. Tell her how I look, but don't tell her what
+my father has done. And now tell me about Miss Kate--how long since you
+saw her? Is she married?"
+
+Again the colonel's voice was heard; this time much nearer--within
+hailing distance. He and the overseer were evidently approaching the
+fence; some of the negroes had doubtless apprised them of the course of
+Harry's exit.
+
+Alec turned quickly to face his master, and Harry, realizing that his
+last moment had come, swung himself into the saddle. If Alec made any
+reply to his question it was lost in the clatter of hoofs as both horse
+and man swept down the by-path. In another moment they had gained the
+main road, the rider never breaking rein until he had reached the
+farm-house where he had fed and watered his horse some hours before.
+
+
+Thirty-odd miles out and back was not a long ride for a hired horse in
+these days over a good turnpike with plenty of time for resting--and he
+had as many breathing spells as gallops, for Harry's moods really
+directed his gait. Once in a while he would give him his head, the reins
+lying loose, the horse picking his way in a walk. Then the bitterness of
+his father's words and how undeserved they were, and how the house of
+cards his hopes had built up had come tumbling down about his ears at
+the first point of contact would rush over him, and he would dig his
+heels into the horse's flanks and send him at full gallop through the
+night along the pale ribbon of a road barely discernible in the ghostly
+dark. When, however, Alec's sobs smote his ear, or the white face of his
+mother confronted him, the animal would gradually slacken his pace and
+drop into a walk.
+
+Dominated by these emotions certain fixed resolutions at last took
+possession of him: He would see his mother at once, no matter at what
+cost--even if he defied his father--and then he would find his uncle.
+Whether he would board the next vessel heaving port and return to his
+work in the mountains, or whether he would bring his uncle back from
+Craddock and the two, with his own vigorous youth and new experience of
+the world, fight it out together as they had once done before, depended
+on what St. George advised. Now that Kate's marriage was practically
+decided upon, one sorrow--and his greatest--was settled forever. Any
+others that were in store for him he would meet as they came.
+
+With his mind still intent on these plans he rode at last into the open
+door of the small courtyard of the livery stable and drew rein under a
+swinging lantern. It was past ten at night, and the place was deserted,
+except by a young negro who advanced to take his horse. Tossing the
+bridle aside he slipped to the ground.
+
+"He's wet," Harry said, "but he's all right. Let him cool off gradually,
+and don't give him any water until he gets dry. I'll come in to-morrow
+and pay your people what I owe them."
+
+The negro curry-combed his fingers down the horse's flanks as if to
+assure himself of his condition, and in the movement brought his face
+under the glare of the overhead light.
+
+Harry grabbed him by the shoulder and swung him round.
+
+"Todd--you rascal! What are you doing here? Why are you not down on the
+Eastern Shore?" His astonishment was so intense that for an instant he
+could not realize he had the right man.
+
+The negro drew back. He was no runaway slave, and he didn't intend to be
+taken for one--certainly not by a man as rough and suspicious looking as
+the one before him.
+
+"How you know my name, man?" He was nervous and scared half out of his
+wits. More than one negro had been shanghaied in that way and smuggled
+off to sea.
+
+"Know you! I'd know you among a thousand. Have you, too, deserted your
+master?" He still held him firmly by the collar of his coat, his voice
+rising with his wrath. "Why have you left him? Answer me."
+
+For an instant the negro hesitated, leaned forward, and then with a
+burst of joy end out:
+
+"You ain't!--Fo' Gawd it is! Dat beard on ye, Marse Harry, done fool
+me--but you is him fo' sho. Gor-a-mighty! ain't I glad ye ain't daid.
+Marse George say on'y yisterday you was either daid or sick dat ye
+didn't write an'--"
+
+"Said yesterday! Why, is he at home?"
+
+"HOME! Lemme throw a blanket over dis hoss and tie him tell we come
+back. Oh, we had a heap o' mis'ry since ye went away--a heap o' trouble.
+Nothin' but trouble! You come 'long wid me--'tain't far; des around de
+corner. I'll show ye sompin' make ye creep all over. An' it ain't
+gettin' no better--gettin' wuss. Dis way, Manse Harry. You been 'cross
+de big water, ain't ye? Dat's what I heared. Aunt Jemima been mighty
+good, but we can't go on dis way much longer."
+
+Still talking, forging ahead in the darkness through the narrow street
+choked with horseless drays, Todd swung into a dingy yard, mounted a
+flight of rickety wooden steps, and halted at an unpainted door. Turning
+the knob softly he beckoned silently to Harry, and the two stepped into
+a small room lighted by a low lamp placed on the hearth, its rays
+falling on a cot bed and a few chairs. Beside a cheap pine table sat
+Aunt Jemima, rocking noiselessly. The old woman raised her hand in
+warning and put her fingers to her lips.
+
+On the bed, with the coverlet drawn close under his chin, lay his Uncle
+George!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+
+
+Harry looked about the room in a bewildered way and then tiptoed to St.
+George's bed. It had been a day of surprises, but this last had
+completely upset him. St. George dependent on the charity of his old
+cook and without other attendant than Todd! Why had he been deserted by
+everybody who loved him? Why was he not at Wesley or Craddock? Why
+should he be here of all places in the world?
+
+All these thoughts surged through his mind as he stood above the patient
+and watched his slow, labored breathing. That he had been ill for some
+time was evident in his emaciated face and the deep hollows into which
+his closed eyes were sunken.
+
+Aunt Jemima rose and handed the intruder her chair. He sat down
+noiselessly beside him. Once his uncle coughed, and in the effort drew
+the coverlet close about his throat, his eyes still shut; but whether
+from weakness or drowsiness, Harry could not tell. Presently he shifted
+his body, and moving his head on the pillow, called softly:
+
+"Jemima?"
+
+The old woman bent over him.
+
+"Yes, Marse George."
+
+"Give me a little milk--my throat troubles me."
+
+Harry drew back into the shadow cast over one end of the cot and rear
+wall by the low lamp on the hearth. Whether to slip his hand gently over
+his uncle's and declare himself, or whether to wait until he dozed again
+and return in the morning, when he would be less tired and could better
+withstand the shock of the meeting, was the question which disturbed
+him. And yet he could not leave until he satisfied himself of just what
+ought to be done. If he left him at all it must be for help of some
+kind. He leaned over and whispered in Jemima's ear:
+
+"Has he had a doctor?"
+
+Jemima shook her head. "He wouldn't hab none; he ain't been clean beat
+out till day befo' yisterday, an' den I got skeered an'--" She stopped,
+leaned closer, clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming,
+and staggered back to her chair.
+
+St. George raised his head from the pillow and stared into the shadows.
+
+"Who is talking? I heard somebody speak? Jemima--you haven't disobeyed
+me, have you?"
+
+Harry stepped noiselessly to the bedside and laid his fingers on the
+sick man's wrist:
+
+"Uncle George," he said gently.
+
+Temple lowered his head as if to focus his gaze.
+
+"Yes, there is some one!" he cried in a stronger voice. "Who are you,
+sir?--not a doctor, are you? I didn't send for you!--I don't want any
+doctor, I told my servant so. Jemima!--Todd!--why do you--"
+
+Harry tightened his grasp on the emaciated wrist. "No, Uncle George,
+it's Harry! I'm just back."
+
+"What did he say, Todd? Harry!--Harry! Did he say he was Harry, or am I
+losing my mind?"
+
+In his eagerness to understand he lifted himself to a sitting posture,
+his eyes wandering uneasily over the speaker's body, resting on his
+head--on his shoulders, arms, and hands--as if trying to fix his mind on
+something which constantly baffled him.
+
+Harry continued to pat his wrist soothingly.
+
+"Yes, it's Harry, Uncle George," he answered. "But don't talk--lie down.
+I'm all right--I got in yesterday and have been looking for you
+everywhere. Pawson told me you were at Wesley. I found Todd a few
+minutes ago by the merest accident, and he brought me here. No, you must
+lie down--let me help--rest yourself on me--so." He was as tender with
+him as if he had been his own mother.
+
+The sick man shook himself free--he was stronger than Harry thought. He
+was convinced now that there was some trick being played upon him--one
+Jemima in her anxiety had devised.
+
+"How dare you, sir, lie to me like that! Who asked you to come here?
+Todd--send this fellow from the room!"
+
+Harry drew back out of his uncle's vision and carefully watched the
+invalid. St. George's mind was evidently unhinged and it would be better
+not to thwart him.
+
+Todd crept up. He had seen his master like this once before and had had
+all he could do to keep him in bed.
+
+"Dat ain't no doctor, Marse George," he pleaded, his voice trembling.
+"Dat's Marse Harry come back agin alive. It's de hair on his face make
+him look dat way; dat fool me too. It's Marse Harry, fo' sho'--I fotch
+him yere myse'f. He's jes' come from de big ship."
+
+St. George twisted his head, looked long and earnestly into Harry's
+face, and with a sudden cry of joy stretched out his hand and motioned
+him nearer. Harry sank to his knees beside the bed. St. George curved
+one arm about his neck, drew him tightly to his breast as he would a
+woman, and fell back upon the pillow with Harry's head next his own.
+There the two lay still, St. George's eyes half closed, thick sobs
+stifling his utterance, the tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his
+thin white fingers caressing the brown hair of the boy he loved. At
+last, with a heavy, indrawn sigh, not of grief, but of joy, he muttered:
+
+"It's true, isn't it, my son?"
+
+Harry hugged him the tighter in answer.
+
+"And you are home for good?"
+
+Again the pressure. "Yes, but don't talk, you must go to sleep. I won't
+leave you." His own tears were choking him now.
+
+Then, after a long pause, releasing his grasp: "I did not know how weak
+I was. ... Maybe I had better not talk. ... Don't stay. Come to-morrow
+and tell me about it. ... There is no bed for you here ... I am sorry
+... but you must go away--you couldn't be comfortable. ... Todd--"
+
+The darky started forward--both he and Aunt Jemima were crying:
+
+"Yes, Marse George."
+
+"Take the lamp and light Mr. Rutter downstairs. To-morrow--to-morrow,
+Harry. ... My God--think of it!--Harry home! Harry home! My Harry
+home!" and he turned his face to the wall.
+
+On the way back--first to the stable, where he found that the horse had
+been properly cared for and his bill ready and then to his
+lodgings,--Todd told him the story of what had happened: At first his
+master had firmly intended going to the Eastern Shore--and for a long
+stay--for he had ordered his own and Todd's trunks packed with
+everything they both owned in the way of clothes. On the next day,
+however--the day before the boat left--Mr. Temple had made a visit to
+Jemima to bid her good-by, where he learned that her white lodger had
+decamped between suns, leaving two months board unpaid. In the effort to
+find this man, or compel his employer to pay his bill, out of some wages
+still due him--in both of which he failed--his master had missed the
+boat and they were obliged to wait another week. During this interim,
+not wishing to return to Pawson, and being as he said very comfortable
+where he was with his two servants to wait upon him, and the place as
+clean as a pin--his master had moved his own and Todd's trunk from the
+steamboat warehouse where they had been stored and had had them brought
+to Jemima's. Two days later--whether from exposure in tramping the
+streets in his efforts to collect the old woman's bill, or whether the
+change of lodgings had affected him--he was taken down with a chill and
+had been in bed ever since. With this situation staring both Jemima and
+himself in the face--for neither she nor Mr. Temple had much money
+left--Todd had appealed to Gadgem--(he being the only man in his
+experience who could always produce a roll of bills when everybody else
+failed)--who took him to the stableman whose accounts he collected
+--and who had once bought one of St. George's saddles--and who then and
+there hired Todd as night attendant. His wages, added to what Jemima
+could earn over her tubs, had kept the three alive. All this had taken
+place four weeks or more ago.
+
+None of all this, he assured Harry, had he told Gadgem or anybody else,
+his master's positive directions being to keep his abode and his
+condition a secret from everybody. All the collector knew was that Mr.
+Temple being too poor to take Todd with him, had left him behind to
+shift for himself until he could send for him. All the neighborhood
+knew, to quote Todd's own hilarious chuckle, was that "Miss Jemima
+Johnsing had two mo' boa'ders; one a sick man dat had los' his job an'
+de udder a yaller nigger who sot up nights watchin' de hosses eat dere
+haids off."
+
+Since that time his master had had various ups and downs, but although
+he was still weak he was very much stronger than he had been any time
+since he had taken to his bed. Only once had he been delirious; then he
+talked ramblingly about Miss Kate and Marse Harry. This had so scared
+Aunt Jemima that she had determined to go to Mammy Henny and have her
+tell Miss Kate, so he could get a doctor--something he had positively
+forbidden her to do, but he grew so much better the next day that she
+had given it up; since that time his mind had not again given way. All
+he wanted now, so Todd concluded, was a good soup and "a drap o' sumpin
+warmin'--an' he'd pull thu'. But dere warn't no use tryin' ter git him
+to take it 'cause all he would eat was taters an' corn pone an'
+milk--an' sich like, 'cause he said dere warn't money 'nough fer de
+three--" whereupon Todd turned his head away and caught his breath, and
+then tried to pass it off as an unbidden choke--none of which
+subterfuges deceived Harry in the least.
+
+When the two arrived off the dimly burning lantern--it was past ten
+o'clock--and pushed in the door of the Sailors' House, Todd received
+another shock--one that sent his eyes bulging from his head. That Marse
+Harry Rutter, who was always a law unto himself, should grow a beard and
+wear rough clothes, was to be expected--"Dem Rutters was allus dat
+way--do jes's dey mineter--" but that the most elegant young man of his
+day "ob de fustest quality," should take up his quarters in a low
+sailors' retreat, and be looked upon by the men gathered under the
+swinging lamp around a card table--(some of whom greeted Harry
+familiarly)--as one of their own kind, completely staggered him.
+
+The pedler was particularly gracious--so much so that when he learned
+that Harry was leaving for good, and had come to get his belongings--he
+jumped up and insisted on helping--at which Harry laughed and assented,
+and as a further mark of his appreciation presented him with the now
+useless silks, in addition to the money he gave him--an act of
+generosity which formed the sole topic of conversation in the resort for
+weeks thereafter.
+
+Board and lodging paid, the procession took up its return march: Harry
+in front, Todd, still dazed and still at sea as to the meaning of it
+all, following behind; the pedler between with Harry's heavy coat,
+blankets, etc.--all purchased since his shipwreck--the party threading
+the choked-up street until they reached the dingy yard, where the pedler
+dumped his pack and withdrew, while the darky stowed his load in the
+basement. This done, the two tiptoed once more up the stairs to where
+Aunt Jemima awaited them, St. George having fallen asleep.
+
+Beckoning the old woman away from the bedroom door and into the far
+corner of the small hall, Harry unfolded to her as much of his plans for
+the next day as he thought she ought to know. Early in the morning
+--before his uncle was astir--he would betake himself to Kennedy Square;
+ascertain from Pawson whether his uncle's rooms were still unoccupied,
+and if such were the case--and St. George be unable to walk--would pick
+him up bodily, wrap him in blankets, carry him in his own arms
+downstairs, place him in a carriage, and drive him to his former home
+where he would again pick him up and lay him in his own bed: This would
+be better than a hundred doctors--he had tried it himself when he was
+down with fever and knew. Aunt Jemima was to go ahead and see that these
+preparations were carried out. Should Alec be able to bring his mother
+to Kennedy Square in the morning, as he had instructed him to do, then
+there would indeed be somebody on hand who could nurse him even better
+than Jemima; should his mother not be there, Jemima would take her
+place. Nothing of all this, he charged her, was to be told St. George
+until the hour of departure. To dwell upon the intended move might
+overexcite him. Then, when everything was ready--his linen, etc.,
+arranged--(Jemima was also to look after this)--he would whisk him off
+and make him comfortable in his own bed. He would, of course, now that
+his uncle wished it, keep secret his retreat; although why St. George
+Wilmot Temple, Esq., or any other gentleman of his standing, should
+object to being taken care of by his own servants was a thing he could
+not understand: Pawson, of course, need not know--nor should any outside
+person--not even Gadgem if he came nosing around. To these he would
+merely say that Mr. Temple had seen fit to leave home and that Mr.
+Temple had seen fit to return again: that was quite enough for attorneys
+and collectors. To all the others he would keep his counsel, until St.
+George himself made confession, which he was pretty sure he would do at
+the first opportunity.
+
+This decided upon he bade Jemima good-night, gave her explicit
+directions to call him, should his uncle awake (her own room opened out
+of St. George's) spread his blanket in the cramped hall outside the sick
+man's door--he had not roughed it on shipboard and in the wilderness all
+these years without knowing something of the soft side of a plank--and
+throwing his heavy ship's coat over him fell fast asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+
+
+When the first glimmer of the gray dawn stole through the small window
+at the end of the narrow hall, and laid its chilled fingers on Harry's
+upturned face, it found him still asleep. His ride to Moorlands and
+back--his muscles unused for months to the exercise--had tired him. The
+trials of the day, too, those with his father and his Uncle George, had
+tired him the more--and so he had slept on as a child sleeps--as a
+perfectly healthy man sleeps--both mind and body drinking in the ozone
+of a new courage and a new hope.
+
+With the first ray of the joyous sun riding full tilt across his face,
+he opened his eyes, threw off the cloak, and sprang to his feet. For an
+instant he looked wonderingly about as if in doubt whether to call the
+watch or begin the hunt for his cattle. Then the pine door caught his
+eye and the low, measured breathing of his uncle fell upon his ear, and
+with a quick lift of his arms, his strong hands thumping his broad
+chest, he stretched himself to his full height: he had work to do, and
+he must begin at once.
+
+Aunt Jemima was already at her duties. She had tiptoed past his sleeping
+body an hour before, and after listening to St. George's breathing had
+plunged into her tubs; the cat's cradle in the dingy court-yard being
+already gay with various colored fragments, including Harry's red
+flannel shirts which Todd had found in a paper parcel, and which the old
+woman had pounced upon at sight. She insisted on making him a cup of
+coffee, but he had no time for such luxuries. He would keep on, he said,
+to Kennedy Square, find Pawson, ascertain if St. George's old rooms were
+still unoccupied; notify him of Mr. Temple's return; have his bed made
+and fires properly lighted; stop at the livery stable, wake up Todd, if
+that darky had overslept himself--quite natural when he had been up
+almost all night--engage a carriage to be at Jemima's at four o'clock,
+and then return to get everything ready for the
+picking-up-and-carrying-downstairs process.
+
+And all this he did do; and all this he told Jemima he had done when he
+swung into the court-yard an hour later, a spring to his heels and a
+cheery note in his voice that had not been his for years. The reaction
+that hope brings to youth had set in. He was alive and at home; his
+Uncle George was where he could get his hands on him--in a minute--by
+the mounting of the stairs; and Alec and his mother within reach!
+
+And the same glad song was in his heart when he opened his uncle's door
+after he had swallowed his coffee--Jemima had it ready for him this
+time--and thrusting in his head cried out:
+
+"We are going to get you out of here, Uncle George!" This with a
+laugh--one of his old contagious laughs that was music in the sick man's
+ears.
+
+"When?" asked the invalid, his face radiant. He had been awake an hour
+wondering what it all meant. He had even thought of calling to Jemima to
+reassure himself that it was not a dream, until he heard her over her
+tubs and refrained from disturbing her.
+
+"Oh, pretty soon! I have just come from Pawson's. Fogbin hasn't put in
+an appearance and there's nobody in the rooms and hasn't been anybody
+there since you left. He can't understand it, nor can I--and I don't
+want to. I have ordered the bed made and a fire started in both the
+chamber and the old dining-room, and if anybody objects he has got to
+say so to me, and I am a very uncomfortable person to say some kinds of
+things to nowadays. So up you get when the time comes; and Todd and
+Jemima are to go too. I've got money enough, anyhow, to begin on. Aunt
+Jemima says you had a good night and it won't be long now before you are
+yourself again."
+
+The radiant smile on the sick man's face blossomed into a laugh:
+"Yes--the best night that I have had since I was taken ill, and--Where
+did you sleep, my son?"
+
+"Me!--Oh, I had a fine time--long, well-ventilated room with two
+windows and private staircase; nice pine bedstead--very comfortable
+place for this part of the town."
+
+St. George looked at him and his eyes filled. His mind was neither on
+his own questions nor on Harry's answers.
+
+"Get a chair, Harry, and sit by me so I can look at you closer. How fine
+and strong you are my son--not like your father--you're like your
+mother. And you've broadened out--mentally as well as physically. Pretty
+hard I tell you to spoil a gentleman--more difficult still to spoil a
+Rutter. But you must get that beard off--it isn't becoming to you, and
+then somebody might think you disguised yourself on purpose. I didn't
+know you at first, neither did Jemima--and you don't want anybody else
+to make that kind of a mistake."
+
+"My father did, yesterday--" Harry rejoined quietly, dropping into
+Jemima's chair.
+
+St. George half raised himself from his bed: "You have seen him?"
+
+"Yes--and I wish I hadn't. But I hunted everywhere for you and then got
+a horse and rode out home. He didn't know me--that is, I'm pretty sure
+he didn't--but he cursed me all the same. My mother and old Alec, I
+hope, will come in to-day--but father's chapter is closed forever. I
+have been a fool to hope for anything else."
+
+"Drove you out! Oh, no--NO! Harry! Impossible!"
+
+"But he did--" and then followed an account of all the wanderer had
+passed through from the time he had set foot on shore to the moment of
+meeting Todd and himself.
+
+For some minutes St. George lay staring at the ceiling. It was all a
+horrid, nightmare to him. Talbot deserved nothing but contempt and he
+would get it so far as he was concerned. He agreed with Harry that all
+reconciliation was now a thing of the past; the only solution possible
+was that Talbot was out of his senses--the affair having undermined his
+reason. He had heard of such cases and had doubted them--he was
+convinced now that they could be true. His answer, therefore, to Harry's
+next question--one about his lost sweetheart--was given with a certain
+hesitation. As long as the memory of Rutter's curses rankled within him
+all reference to Kate's affairs--even the little he knew himself--must
+be made with some circumspection. There was no hope in that direction
+either, but he did not want to tell him so outright; nor did he want to
+dwell too long upon the subject.
+
+"And I suppose Kate is married by this time, Uncle George," Harry said
+at last in a casual tone, "is she not?" (He had been leading up to it
+rather skilfully, but there had been no doubt in his uncle's mind as to
+his intention.) "I saw the house lighted up, night before last when I
+passed, and a lot of people about, so I thought it might be either the
+wedding or the reception." The question had left his lips as one shoots
+an arrow in the dark--hit or miss--as if he did not care which. He too
+realized that this was no time to open wounds, certainly not in his
+uncle's heart; and yet he could wait no longer.
+
+"No--I don't think the wedding has taken place," St. George replied
+vaguely. "The servants would know if it had--they know everything--and
+Aunt Jemima would be the first to have told me. The house being lighted
+up is no evidence. They have been giving a series of entertainments this
+winter and there were more to come when I last saw Kate, which was one
+night at Richard Horn's. But let us close that chapter too, my boy. You
+and I will take a new lease of life from now on. You have already put
+fresh blood into my veins--I haven't felt so well for weeks. Now tell me
+about yourself. Your last letter reached me six months ago, if I
+remember right. You were then in Rio and were going up into the
+mountains. Did you go?"
+
+"Yes--up into the Rio Abaste country where they had discovered diamonds
+as big as hens' eggs--one had been sold for nearly a quarter of a
+million dollars--and everybody was crazy. I didn't find any diamonds
+nor anything else but starvation, so I herded cattle, that being the
+only thing I knew anything about--how to ride--and slept out on the
+lowlands sometimes under a native mat and sometimes under the kindly
+stars. Then we had a revolution and cattle raids, and one night I came
+pretty near being chewed up by a puma--and so it went. I made a little
+money in rawhides after I got to know the natives, and I'm going back to
+make some more; and you are going with me when we get things
+straightened out. I wouldn't have come home except that I heard you had
+been turned out neck and crop from Kennedy Square. One of Mr. Seymour's
+clerks stopped in Rio on his way to the River Plate and did some
+business with an English agent whom I met afterward at a hacienda, and
+who told me about you when he learned I was from Kennedy Square. And
+when I think of it all, Uncle George, and what you have suffered on
+account of me!"--Here his voice faltered. "No!--I won't talk about it--I
+can't. I have spent too many sleepless nights over it: I have been
+hungry and half dead, but I have kept on--and I am not through: I'll
+pull out yet and put you on your feet once more if I live!"
+
+St. George laid his hand tenderly on the young man's wrist. He knew how
+the boy felt about it. That was one of the things he loved him for.
+
+"And so you started home when you heard it," he went on, clearing his
+throat. "That was just like you, you dear fellow! And you haven't come
+home an hour too soon. I should have been measured for a pine coffin in
+another week." The choke was quite in evidence now. "You see, I really
+couldn't go to Coston's when I thought it all over. I had made up my
+mind to go for a week or so until I saw this place, and then I
+determined I would stop with Jemima. I could eke out an existence here
+on what I had left and still feel like a gentleman, but I couldn't
+settle down on dear Peggy Coston and be anything but a poltroon. As to
+my making a living at the law--that was pure moonshine. I haven't opened
+a law book for twenty years and now it's too late. People of our
+class"--here he looked away from his companion and talked straight at
+the foot of the bed--"People of our class my boy," he repeated
+slowly--"when they reach the neck and crop period you spoke of, are at
+the end of their rope. There are then but two things left--either to
+become the inmate of a poorhouse or to become a sponge. I prefer this
+bare room as a happy medium, and I am content to stay where I am as long
+as we three can keep body and soul together. There is--so Pawson told me
+before I left my house--a little money coming in from a ground rent--a
+few months off, perhaps, but more than enough to pay Todd back--he gives
+Jemima every cent of his wages--and when this does come in and I can get
+out once more, I'm going to order my life so I can make a respectable
+showing of some kind."
+
+He paused for a moment, fastened his gaze again on Harry, and continued:
+
+"As to my going back to Pawson's, I am not altogether sure that that is
+the wisest thing to do. I may have to leave again as soon as I get
+comfortably settled in my bed. I turned out at his bidding before and
+may have to turn again when he says the word. So don't kindle too many
+fires with Pawson's wood--I hadn't a log to my name when I left--or it
+may warm somebody's else's shins besides mine," and a merry twinkle
+shone in his eyes.
+
+Harry burst out laughing.
+
+"Wood or no wood, Uncle George, I'm going to be landlord now--Pawson can
+move out and graze his cattle somewhere else. I'm going to take charge
+of the hut and stock and the pack mules and provisions--and with a gun,
+if necessary--" and he levelled an imaginary fowling-piece with a boyish
+gesture.
+
+"Don't you try to move anybody without an order of the court!" cried St.
+George, joining in the merriment. "With that mortgage hanging over
+everything and Gorsuch and your father cudgelling their brains to
+foreclose it, you won't have a ghost of a chance. Come to think of it,
+however, I might help--for a few weeks' expenses, at least. How would
+this do?" Here he had all he could do to straighten his face:
+"'Attention now--Hats off in the court-room. For sale or hire! Immediate
+delivery. One first-class gentleman, in reasonable repair. Could be made
+useful in opening and shutting doors, or in dancing attendance upon
+children under one year of age, or in keeping flies from bedridden folk.
+Apply, and so forth,' Gadgem could fix it. He has done the most
+marvellous things in the last year or two--extraordinary, really! Ask
+Todd about it some time--he'll tell you."
+
+They were both roaring with laughter, St. George so buoyed up by the
+contagious spirit of the young fellow that he insisted on getting out of
+bed and sitting in Aunt Jemima's rocking chair with a blanket across his
+knees.
+
+All the morning did this happy talk go on:--the joyous unconfined talk
+of two men who had hungered and thirsted for each other through weary
+bitter days and nights, and whose coming together was like the mingling
+of two streams long kept apart, and now one great river flowing to a
+common outlet and a common good.
+
+And not only did their talk cover the whole range of Harry's experiences
+from the time he left the ship for his sojourn in the hill country and
+the mountains beyond, and all of St. George's haps and mishaps, with
+every single transaction of Gadgem and Pawson--loving cup, dogs and
+all--but when their own personal news was exhausted they both fell back
+on their friends, such as Richard Horn and old Judge Pancoast; when he
+had seen Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Latrobe--yes, and what of Mr. Poe--had he
+written any more?--and were his habits any better?--etc., etc.
+
+"I have seen Mr. Poe several times since that unfortunate dinner, Harry;
+the last time when he was good enough to call upon me on his way to
+Richmond. He was then particularly himself. You would not have known
+him--grave, dignified, perfectly dressed--charming, delightful. He came
+in quite late--indeed I was going to bed when I heard his knock and,
+Todd being out, I opened the door myself. There was some of that Black
+Warrior left, and I brought out the decanter, but he shook his head
+courteously and continued his talk. He asked after you. Wonderful man,
+Harry--a man you never forget once you know him."
+
+St. George dragged the pine table nearer his chair and moistened his
+lips with the glass of milk which Jemima had set beside him. Then he
+went on:
+
+"You remember Judge Giles, do you not? Lives here on St. Paul
+Street--yes--of course you do--for he is a great friend of your father's
+and you must have met him repeatedly at Moorlands. Well, one day at the
+club he told me the most extraordinary story about Mr. Poe--this was
+some time after you'd gone. It seems that the judge was at work in his
+study late one snowy night when his doorbell sounded. Outside stood a
+man with his coat buttoned close about his throat--evidently a
+gentleman--who asked him politely for a sheet of paper and a pen. You
+know the judge, and how kind and considerate he is. Well, of course he
+asked him in, drew out a chair at his desk and stepped into the next
+room to leave him undisturbed. After a time, not hearing him move, he
+looked in and to his surprise the stranger had disappeared. On the desk
+lay a sheet of paper on which was written three verses of a poem. It was
+his 'Bells.' The judge has had them framed, so I hear. There was enough
+snow on the ground to bring out the cutters, and Poe had the rhythm of
+the bells ringing in his head and being afraid he would forget it he
+pulled the judge's doorbell. I wish he'd rung mine. I must get the poem
+for you, Harry--it's as famous now as 'The Raven.' Richard, I hear,
+reads it so that you can distinguish the sound of each bell."
+
+"Well, he taught me a lesson," said Harry, tucking the blanket close
+around his uncle's knees--"one I have never forgotten, and never will.
+He sent me to bed a wreck, I remember, but I got up the next morning
+with a new mast in me and all my pumps working."
+
+"You mean--" and St. George smiled meaningly and tossed his hand up as
+if emptying a glass.
+
+"Yes--just that--" rejoined Harry with a nod. "It's so hot out where I
+have been that a glass of native rum is as bad as a snake bite and
+everybody except a native leaves it alone. But if I had gone to the
+North Pole instead of the equator I would have done the same. Men like
+you and father, and Mr. Richard Horn and Mr. Kennedy, who have been
+brought up on moderation, may feel as they choose about it, but I'm
+going to let it alone. It's the devil when it gets into your blood and
+mine's not made for it. I'd like to thank Mr. Poe if I dared, which I
+wouldn't, of course, if I ever saw him, for what he did for me. I
+wouldn't be surprised if he would give a good deal himself to do the
+same--or has he pulled out?"
+
+"He never has pulled in, Harry--not continuously. Richard has the right
+of it. Poe is a man pursued by a devil and lives always on the watch to
+prevent the fiend from getting the best of him. Months at a time he wins
+and then there comes a day when the devil gets on top. He says
+himself--he told me this the last time I saw him--that he really lives a
+life devoted to his literary work; that he shuts himself up from
+everybody; and that the desire for society only comes upon him when he's
+excited by drink. Then, and only then, does he go among his fellows.
+There is some truth in that, my son, for as long as I have known him I
+have never seen him in his cups except that one night at my house. A
+courteous, well-bred gentleman, my boy--most punctilious about all his
+obligations and very honest about his failings. All he said to me the
+next day when he sobered up--I kept him all that night, you
+remember--was: 'I was miserably weak and inexcusably drunk last night,
+Mr. Temple. If that was all it would make no difference; I have been
+very drunk before, and I will be very drunk again; but in addition to my
+being drunk I insulted you and your friends and ruined your dinner. That
+makes every difference. Don't let it cause a break between us. Let me
+come again. And now please brush it from your mind. If you knew how I
+suffer over this fiend who tortures and gloats over me you'd only have
+the greatest pity for me, in your heart.' Then he wrung my hand and left
+the house."
+
+"Well, that's all any of us could do," sighed Harry, leaning back in his
+chair, his eyes on the ceiling. "It makes some difference, however, of
+whom you ask forgiveness. I've been willing to say the same kind of
+thing to my father ever since my affair with Mr. Willits, but it would
+have fallen on deaf ears. I had another trial at it yesterday, and you
+know what happened."
+
+"I don't think your father knew you, Harry," protested St. George, with
+a negative wave of his hand.
+
+"I hope he didn't--I shouldn't like to think he did. But, by heaven! it
+broke my heart to see him, Uncle George. You would hardly know him. Even
+his voice has changed and the shade over his eyes and the way he twists
+his head when he looks at you really gave me a creepy feeling," and the
+young man passed his fingers across his own eyes as if to shut out some
+hideous object.
+
+"Was he looking straight at you when he ordered you from the room?"
+
+"Straight as he could."
+
+"Well, let us try and think it was the beard. And that reminds me, son,
+that it's got to come off, and right away. When Todd comes in he'll find
+my razors and--"
+
+"No--I'll look up a barber."
+
+"Not down in this part of the town," exclaimed St. George with a
+suggestive grimace.
+
+"No--I'll go up to Guy's. There used to be an old negro there who looked
+after us young fellows when our beards began to sprout. He'll take care
+of it all right. While I'm out I'll stop and send Todd back. I'm going
+to end his apprenticeship to-day, and so he'll help you dress. Nothing
+like getting into your clothes when you're well enough to get out of
+bed; I've done it more than once," and with a pat on his uncle's
+shoulder and the readjustment of the blanket, he closed the door behind
+him and left the room.
+
+"Everything is working fine, auntie," he cried gaily as he passed the
+old woman who was hanging out the last of her wash. "I'll be back in an
+hour. Don't tell him yet--" and he strode out of the yard on his way
+uptown.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+
+
+Intruders of all kinds had thrust their heads between the dripping,
+slightly moist, and wholly dry installments of Aunt Jemima's Monday
+wash, and each and every one had been assailed by a vocabulary hurled at
+them through the creaky gate, and as far out as the street--peddlers;
+beggars; tramps; loose darkies with no visible means of support, who had
+smelt the cooking in the air--even goats with an acquired taste for
+stocking legs and window curtains--all of whom had either been invited
+out, whirled out, or thrown out, dependent upon the damage inflicted,
+the size of the favors asked, or the length of space intervening between
+Jemima's right arm and their backs. In all of these instances the old
+cook had been the broom and the intruders the dust. Being an expert in
+its use the intruders had succumbed before they had gotten through their
+first. sentence. In the case of the goat even that privilege was denied
+him; it was the handle and not the brush-part which ended the argument.
+To see Aunt Jemima get rid of a goat in one whack and two jumps was not
+only a lesson in condensed conversation, but furnished a sight one
+rarely forgot--the goat never!
+
+This morning the situation was reversed. It was Aunt Jemima who came
+flying upstairs, her eyes popping from her head, her plump hands
+flattened against her big, heaving bosom, her breath gone in the effort
+to tell her dreadful news before she should drop dead.
+
+"Marse George! who d'ye think's downstairs?" she gasped, bursting in the
+door of his bedroom, without even the customary tap. "Oh, bless Gawd!
+dat you'se outen dat bed! and dressed and tryin' yo' po' legs about the
+room. He's comin' up. Got a man wid him I ain't neber see befo'. Says
+he's a-lookin' fer somebody! Git in de closet an' I'll tell him you'se
+out an' den I'll run an' watch for Marse Harry at de gate. Oh, I doan'
+like dis yere bus'ness," and she began to wring her hands.
+
+St. George, who had been listening to the old woman with mingled
+feelings of wonder and curiosity, raised his hand to silence her.
+Whether she had gone daft or was more than usually excited he could not
+for the moment decide.
+
+"Get your breath, Jemima, and tell me what you're talking about. Who's
+downstairs?"
+
+"Ain't I jes' don' tol' yer? Got a look on him make ye shiver all over;
+says he's gwineter s'arch de house. He's got a constable wid him--dat
+is, he's got a man dat looks like a constable, an'--"
+
+St. George laid his hands on the old woman's shoulders, and turned her
+about.
+
+"Hush your racket this instant, and tell me who is downstairs?"
+
+"Marse Talbot Rutter," she wheezed; "come f'om de country--got mud all
+ober his boots."
+
+"Mr. Harry's father?"
+
+Aunt Jemima choked and nodded: there was no breath left for more.
+
+"Who did he ask for?" St. George was calm enough now.
+
+"Didn't ask fer nobody; he say, 'I'm lookin' fer a man dat come in yere
+las' night.' I see he didn't know me an' I neber let on. Den he say,
+'Hab you got any boa'ders yere?' an' I say, 'I got one,' an' den he
+'tempted ter pass me an' I say, 'Wait a minute 'til I see ef he's outen
+de bed.' Now, what's I gwineter do? He doan' mean no good to Marse Harry
+an' he'll dribe him 'way ag'in, an' he jes' come back an' you gittin'
+well a-lovin' of him--an'--"
+
+An uncertain step was heard in the hall.
+
+"Dat's him," Jemima whispered hoarsely, behind her hand, "what'll I do?
+Doan' let him come in. I'll--"
+
+St. George moved past her and pushed back the door.
+
+Colonel Rutter stood outside.
+
+The two men looked into each other's faces.
+
+"I am in search, sir," the colonel began, shading his eyes with his
+fingers, the brighter light of the room weakening his sight, "for a
+young sailor whom I am informed stopped here last night, and who ... ST.
+GEORGE! What in the name of God are you doing in a place like this?"
+
+"Come inside, Talbot," Temple replied calmly, his eyes fixed on Rutter's
+drawn face and faltering gaze. "Aunt Jemima, hand Colonel Rutter a
+chair. You will excuse me if I sit down--I am just out of bed after a
+long illness, and am a little weak," and he settled slowly into his
+seat. "My servant tells me that you are looking for a--"
+
+St. George paused. Rutter was paying no more attention to what he said
+than if he had been in the next room. He was straining his eyes about
+the apartment; taking in the empty bed from which St. George had just
+arisen, the cheap chairs and small pine table and the kitchen plates and
+cup which still held the remains of St. George's breakfast. He waited
+until Jemima had backed out of the door, her scared face still a tangle
+of emotions--fear for her master's safety uppermost. His eyes again
+veered to St. George.
+
+"What does it all mean, Temple?" he asked in a dazed way.
+
+"I don't think that subject is under discussion, Talbot, and we will,
+therefore, pass it. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"
+
+"Don't be a damned fool, St. George! Don't you see I'm half crazy? Harry
+has come back and he is hiding somewhere in this neighborhood."
+
+"How do you know?" he inquired coolly. He did not intend to help Rutter
+one iota in his search until he found out why he wanted Harry. No more
+cursing of either his son or himself--that was another chapter which was
+closed.
+
+"Because I've been hunting for him all day. He rode out to Moorlands
+yesterday, and I didn't know him, he's so changed. But think of it! St.
+George, I ordered him out of my office. I took him for a road-peddler.
+And he's going to sea again--he told Alec as much. I tell you I have got
+to get hold of him! Don't sit there and stare at me, man! tell me where
+I can find my son!"
+
+"What made you suppose he was here, Talbot?" The same cool, measured
+speech and manner, but with a more open mind behind it now. The pathetic
+aspect of the man, and the acute suffering shown in every tone of his
+voice, had begun to tell upon the invalid.
+
+"Because a man I've got downstairs brought Harry here last night. He is
+not positive, as it was quite dark, but he thinks this is the place. I
+went first to the Barkeley Line, found they had a ship in--the
+Mohican--and saw the captain, who told me of a man who came aboard at
+Rio. Then I learned where he had put up for the night--a low sailors'
+retreat--and found this peddler who said he had sold Harry the silks
+which he offered me. He brought me here."
+
+"Well, I can't help you any. There are only two rooms--I occupy this and
+my old cook, Jemima, has the other. I have been here for over a month."
+
+"Here! in this God-forsaken place! Why, we thought you had gone to
+Virginia. That's why we have had no answers to our letters, and we've
+hunted high and low for you. Certainly you have heard about the Patapsco
+and what--"
+
+"I certainly have heard nothing, Talbot, and as I have just told you,
+I'd rather you would not discuss my affairs. The last time you saw fit
+to encroach upon them brought only bitterness, and I prefer not to
+repeat it. Anything you have to say about Harry I will gladly hear. Go
+on--I'm listening."
+
+"For God's sake, St. George, don't take that tone with me! If you knew
+how wretched I am you'd be sorry for me. I am a broken-down man! If
+Harry goes away again without my seeing him I don't want to live another
+day. When Alec came running back last night and told me that I had
+cursed my son to his face, I nearly went out of my mind. I knew when I
+saw Alec's anger that it was true, and I knew, too, what a brute I had
+been. I ran to Annie's room, took her in my arms, and asked her pardon.
+All night I walked my room; at daylight I rang for Alec, sent for
+Matthew, and he hooked up the carryall and we came in here. Annie wanted
+to come with me, but I wouldn't let her. I knew Seymour wasn't out of
+bed that early, and so I drove straight to the shipping office and
+waited until it was open, and I've been hunting for him ever since. You
+and I have been boys together, St. George--don't lay up against me all
+the insulting things I've said to you--all the harm I've done you! God
+knows I've repented of it! Will you forgive me, St. George, for the sake
+of the old days--for the sake of my boy to whom you have been a father?
+Will you give me your hand? What in the name of common sense should you
+and I be enemies for? I, who owe you more than I owe any man in the
+world! Will you help me?"
+
+St. George was staring now. He bent forward, gripped the arms of his
+chair for a better purchase, and lifted himself to his feet. There he
+stood swaying, Rutter's outstretched hand in both of his, his whole
+nature stirred--only one thought in his heart--to wipe out the past and
+bring father and son together.
+
+"Yes, Talbot--I'll forgive you and I'll help you--I have helped you!
+Harry will be here in a few minutes--I sent him out to get his beard
+shaved off--that's why you didn't know him."
+
+The colonel reeled and but for St. George's hand would have lost his
+balance. All the blood was gone from his cheeks. He tried to speak, but
+the lips refused to move. For an instant St. George thought he would
+sink to the floor.
+
+"You say--Harry ... is here!" he stammered out at last, catching wildly
+at Temple's other hand to steady himself.
+
+"Yes, he came across Todd by the merest accident or he would have gone
+to the Eastern Shore to look me up. Listen!--that's his step now! Turn
+that door knob and hold out your hands to him, and after you've got your
+arms around him get down on your knees and thank your God that you've
+got such a son! I do, every hour I live!"
+
+The door swung wide and Harry strode in: his eyes glistening, his cheeks
+aglow.
+
+"Up, are you, and in your clothes!" he cried joyfully, all the freshness
+of the morning in his voice. "Well, that's something like! How do you
+like me now?--smooth as a marlinspike and my hair trimmed in the latest
+fashion, so old Bones says. He didn't know me either till he got clear
+down below my mouth and when my chin began to show he gave a--"
+
+He stopped and stared at his father, who had been hidden from sight by
+the swinging door. The surprise was so great that his voice clogged in
+his throat. Rutter stood like one who had seen an apparition.
+
+St. George broke the silence:
+
+"It's all right, Harry--give your father your hand."
+
+The colonel made a step forward, threw out one arm as if to regain his
+equilibrium and swayed toward a chair, his frame shaking convulsively,
+wholly unstrung, sobbing like a child. Harry sprang to catch him and the
+two sank down together--no word of comfort--only the mute appeal of
+touch--the brown hand wet with his father's tears.
+
+For some seconds neither spoke, then Rutter raised his head and looked
+into his son's face.
+
+"I didn't know it was you, Harry. I have been hunting you all day to ask
+your pardon." It was the memory of the last indignity he had heaped upon
+him that tortured him.
+
+"I knew you didn't, father."
+
+"Don't go away again, Harry, please don't, my son!" he pleaded,
+strangling the tears, trying to regain his self-control--tears had often
+of late moistened Rutter's lids. "Your mother can't stand it another
+year, and I'm breaking up--half blind. You won't go, will you?"
+
+"No--not right away, father--we'll talk of that later." He was still in
+the dark as to how it had come about. All he knew was that for the first
+time in all his life his father had asked his pardon, and for the first
+time in his life the barrier which held them apart had been broken down.
+
+The colonel braced himself in his seat in one supreme effort to get
+himself in hand. One of his boasts was that he had never lost his
+self-control. Harry rose to his feet and stood beside him. St. George,
+trembling from his own weakness, a great throb of thankfulness in his
+heart, had kept his place in his chair, his eyes turned away from the
+scene. His own mind had also undergone a change. He had always known
+that somewhere down in Talbot Rutter's heart--down underneath the strata
+of pride and love of power, there could be found the heart of a
+father--indeed he had often predicted to himself just such a coming
+together. It was the boy's pluck and manliness that had done it; a
+manliness free from all truckling or cringing. And then his tenderness
+over the man who had of all others in the world wronged him most! He
+could hardly keep his glad hands off the boy.
+
+"You will go home with me, of course, won't you, Harry?" He must ask his
+consent now--this son of his whom he had driven from his home and
+insulted in the presence of his friends at the club, and whom he could
+see was now absolutely independent of him--and what was more to the
+point absolutely his own master.
+
+"Yes, of course, I'll go home with you, father," came the respectful
+answer, "if mother isn't coming in. Did she or Alec say anything to you
+about it before you left?"
+
+"No, she isn't coming in to-day--I wouldn't let her. It was too early
+when I started. But that's not what I mean," he went on with increasing
+excitement. "I want you to go home with me and stay forever; I want to
+forget the past; I want St. George to hear me say so! Come and take your
+place at the head of the estate--I will have Gorsuch arrange the papers
+to-morrow. You and St. George must go back with me to-day. I have the
+large carryall--Matthew is with me--he stopped at the corner--he's there
+now."
+
+"That's very kind of you, father," Harry rejoined calmly, concealing as
+best he could his disappointment at not being able to see his mother.
+
+"Yes! of course you will go with me," his father continued in nervous,
+jerky tones. "Please send the servant for Matthew, my coachman, and have
+him drive up. As for you, St. George, you can't stay here another hour.
+How you ever got here is more than I can understand. Moorlands is the
+place for you both--you'll get well there. My carriage is a very easy
+one. Perhaps I had better go for Matthew myself."
+
+"No, don't move, Talbot," rejoined St. George in a calm firm voice
+wondering at Talbot's manner. He had never seen him like this. All his
+old-time measured talk and manner were gone; he was like some
+breathless, hunted man pleading for his life. "I'm very grateful to you
+but I shall stay here. Harry, will you kindly go for Matthew?"
+
+"Stay here!--for how long?" cried the colonel in astonishment, his
+glance following Harry as he left the room in obedience to his uncle's
+request.
+
+"Well, perhaps for the balance of the winter."
+
+"In this hole?" His voice had grown stronger.
+
+"Certainly, why not?" replied St. George simply, moving his chair so
+that his guest might see him the better. "My servants are taking care of
+me. I can pay my way here, and it's about the only place in which I can
+pay it, and I want to tell you frankly, Talbot, that I am very happy to
+be here--am very glad, really, to get such a place. No one could be more
+devoted than my Todd and Jemima--I shall never forget their kindness."
+
+"But you're not a pauper?" cried the colonel in some heat.
+
+"That was what you were once good enough to call me--the last time we
+met. The only change is that then I owed Pawson and that now I owe
+Todd," he replied, trying to repress a smile, as if the humor of the
+situation would overcome him if he was not careful. "Thank you very
+much, Talbot--and I mean every word of it--but I'll stay where I am, at
+least for the present."
+
+"But the bank is on its legs again," rebounded the colonel, ignoring all
+reference to the past, his voice gaining in volume.
+
+"So am I," laughed St. George, tapping his lean thighs with his
+transparent fingers--"on a very shaky pair of legs--so shaky that I
+shall have to go to bed again pretty soon."
+
+"But you're coming out all right, St. George!" Rutter had squared
+himself in his chair and was now looking straight at his host. "Gorsuch
+has written you half a dozen letters about it and not a word from you in
+reply. Now I see why. But all that will come out in time, I tell you.
+You're not going to stay here for an hour longer." His old personality
+was beginning to assert itself.
+
+"The future doesn't interest me, Talbot," smiled St. George in perfect
+good humor. "In my experience my future has always been worse than my
+past."
+
+"But that is no reason why you shouldn't go home with me now and let us
+take care of you," Rutter cried in a still more positive tone. "Annie
+will be delighted. Stay a month with me--stay a year. After what I owe
+you, St. George, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."
+
+"You have already done it, Talbot--every obligation is wiped out,"
+rejoined St. George in a satisfied tone.
+
+"How?"
+
+"By coming here and asking Harry's pardon--that is more to me than all
+the things I have ever possessed," and his voice broke as he thought of
+the change that had taken place in Harry's fortunes in the last half
+hour.
+
+"Then come out to Moorlands and let me prove it!" exclaimed the colonel,
+leaning forward in his eagerness and grasping St. George by the sleeve.
+
+"No," replied St. George in appreciative but positive tones--showing his
+mind was fully made up. "If I go anywhere I'll go back to my house on
+Kennedy Square--that is to the little of it that is still mine. I'll
+stay there for a day or two, to please Harry--or until they turn me out
+again, and then I'll come back here. Change of air may do me good, and
+besides, Jemima and Todd should get a rest."
+
+The colonel rose to his feet: "You shall do no such thing!" he exploded.
+The old dominating air was in full swing now. "I tell you you WILL come
+with me! Damn you, St. George!--if you don't I'll never speak to you
+again, so help me, God!"
+
+St. George threw back his head and burst into a roar of laughter in
+which, after a moment of angry hesitation, Rutter joined. Then he
+reached down and with his hand on St. George's shoulder, said in a
+coaxing tone--"Come along to Moorlands, old fellow--I'd be so glad to
+have you, and so will Annie, and we'll live over the old days."
+
+Harry's re-entrance cut short the answer.
+
+"No father," he cried cheerily, taking up the refrain. He had seen the
+friendly caress and had heard the last sentence. "Uncle George is still
+too ill, and too weak for so long a drive. It's only the excitement over
+my return that keeps him up now--and he'll collapse if we don't look
+out--but he'll collapse in a better place than this!" he added with
+joyous emphasis. "Todd is outside, the hack is at the gate, and Jemima
+is now waiting for him in his old room at home. Give me your arm, you
+blessed old cripple, and let me help you downstairs. Out of the way,
+father, or he'll change his mind and I'll have to pick him up bodily and
+carry him."
+
+St. George shot a merry glance at Harry from under his eyebrows, and
+with a wave of his hand and a deprecating shake of his head at the
+colonel said:
+
+"These rovers and freebooters, Talbot, have so lorded it over their
+serfs that they've lost all respect for their betters. Give me your
+hand, you vagabond, and if you break my neck I'll make you bury me."
+
+The colonel looked on silently and a sharp pain gripped his throat.
+When, in all his life, had he ever been spoken to by his boy in that
+spirit, and when in all his life had he ever seen that same tenderness
+in Harry's eyes? What had he not missed?
+
+"Harry, may I make a suggestion?" he asked almost apologetically. The
+young fellow turned his head in respectful attention: "Put St. George in
+my carriage--it is much more comfortable--and let me drive him home--my
+eyes are quite good in the daytime, after I get used to the light, and I
+am still able to take the road. Then put your servant and mine in the
+hack with St. George's and your own luggage."
+
+"Capital idea!" cried Harry enthusiastically "I never thought of it!
+Attention company! Eyes to the front, Mr. Temple! You'll now remain on
+waiting orders until I give you permission to move, and as this may take
+some time--please hold on to him, father, until I get his chair" (they
+were already out on the landing--on the very plank where Harry had
+passed the night) "you'll go back to your quarters ... Here sir, these
+are your quarters," and Harry dragged the chair into position with his
+foot. "Down with you ... that's it ... and you will stay here until the
+baggage and hospital train arrives, when you'll occupy a front seat in
+the van--and there will be no grumbling or lagging behind of any kind,
+remember, or you'll get ten days in the calaboose!"
+
+
+Pawson was on the curbstone, his face shining, his semaphore arms and
+legs in action, his eyes searching the distance, when the two vehicles
+came in sight. He had heard the day boat was very late, and as there had
+been a heavy fog over night, did not worry about the delay in their
+arrival.
+
+What troubled him more was the change in Mr. Temple's appearance. He had
+gone away ruddy, erect, full of vigor and health, and here he was being
+helped out of the carriage, pale, shriveled, his eyes deep set in his
+head. His voice, though, was still strong if his legs were shaky, and
+there seemed also to be no diminution in the flow of his spirits. Wesley
+had kept that part of him intact whatever changes the climate had made.
+
+"Ah, Pawson--glad to see you!" the invalid called gaily extending his
+hand as soon as he stood erect on the sidewalk. "Back again, you
+see--these old derelicts bob up once in a while when you least expect
+them." And he wrung his hand heartily. "So the vultures, it seems, have
+not turned up yet and made their roost in my nest. Most kind of you to
+stay home and give up your business to meet me! You know Colonel Talbot
+Rutter, of Moorlands, I presume, and Mr. Harry Rutter--Of course you do!
+Harry has told me all about your midnight meeting when you took him for
+a constable, and he took you for a thief. No--please don't laugh,
+Pawson--Mr. Rutter is the worst kind of a thief. Not only has he stolen
+my heart because of his goodness to me, but he threatens to make off
+with my body. Give me your hand, Todd. Now a little lift on that rickety
+elbow and I reckon we can make that flight of steps. I have come down
+them so many times of late with no expectation of ever mounting them
+again that it will be a novelty to be sure of staying over night. Come
+in, Talbot, and see the home of my ancestors. I am sorry the Black
+Warrior is all gone--I sent Kennedy the last bottle some time ago--pity
+that vintage didn't last forever. Do you know, Talbot, if I had my way,
+I'd have a special spigot put in the City Spring labelled 'Gift of a
+once prominent citizen,' and supply the inhabitants with 1810--something
+fit for a gentleman to drink."
+
+They were all laughing now; the colonel carrying the pillows Todd had
+tucked behind the invalid's back, Harry a few toilet articles wrapped in
+paper, and Matthew his cane--and so the cortege crawled up the steps,
+crossed the dismantled dining-room--the colonel aghast at the change
+made in its interior since last he saw it--and so on to St. George's
+room where Todd and Jemima put him to bed.
+
+His uncle taken care of--(his father had kept on to Moorlands to tell
+his mother the good news)--Harry mounted the stairs to his old room,
+which Pawson had generously vacated.
+
+The appointments were about the same as when he left; time and poverty
+had wrought but few changes. Pawson, had moved in a few books and there
+was a night table beside the small bed with a lamp on it, showing that
+he read late; but the bureau and shabby arm-chair, and the closet,
+stripped now of the young attorney's clothes to make room for the
+wanderer's--(a scant, sorry lot)--were pretty much the same as Harry
+had found on that eventful night when he had driven in through the rain
+and storm beside his Uncle George, his father's anathemas ringing in his
+ears.
+
+Unconsciously his mind went back to the events of the day;--more
+especially to his uncle's wonderful vitality and the blissful change his
+own home-coming had wrought not only in his physique, but in his
+spirits. Then his father's shattered form, haggard face, and uncertain
+glance rose before him, and with it came the recollection of all that
+had happened during the previous hours: his father's brutal outburst in
+the small office and the marvellous effect produced upon him when he
+learned the truth from Alec's lips; his hurried departure in the gray
+dawn for the ship and his tracing him to Jemima's house. More amazing
+still was his present bearing toward himself and St. George; his
+deference to their wishes and his willingness to follow and not lead.
+Was it his ill-health that had brought about this astounding reformation
+in a man who brooked no opposition?--or had his heart really softened
+toward him so that from this on he could again call him father in the
+full meaning of the term? At this a sudden, acute pain wrenched his
+heart. Perhaps he had not been glad enough to see him--perhaps in his
+anxiety over his uncle he had failed in those little tendernesses which
+a returned prodigal should have shown the father who had held out his
+arms and asked his forgiveness. Why was he not more affected by the
+sight of his suffering. When he first saw his uncle he had not been able
+to keep the tears back--and yet his eyes were dry enough when he saw his
+father. At this he fell to wondering as to the present condition of the
+colonel's mind. What was he thinking of in that lonely drive. He must be
+nearing Moorlands by this time and Alec would meet him, and later the
+dear mother--and the whole story would be told. He could see her glad
+face--her eyes streaming tears, her heart throbbing with the joy of his
+return.
+
+
+And it is a great pity he could not have thus looked in upon the
+autocrat of Moorlands as he sat hunched up on the back seat of the
+carryall, his head bowed, the only spoken words being Matthew's cheery
+hastening of his horses. And it is even a greater pity that the son
+could not have searched as well the secret places of the man's heart:
+such clearings out of doubts and misgivings make for peace and good
+fellowship and righteousness in this world of misunderstanding.
+
+That a certain rest had come into Rutter's soul could be seen in his
+face--a peace that had not settled on his features for years--but, if
+the truth must be told, he was far from happy. Somehow the joy he had
+anticipated at the boy's home-coming had not been realized. With the
+warmth of Harry's grasp still lingering in his own and the tones of his
+voice still sounding in his ears, try as he might, he yet felt aloof
+from him--outside--far off. Something had snapped in the years they had
+been apart--something he knew could never be repaired. Where there had
+once been boyish love there was now only filial regard. Down in his
+secret soul he felt it--down in his secret soul he knew it! Worse than
+that--another had replaced him! "Come, you dear old cripple!"--he could
+hear the voice and see the love and joy in the boy's eyes as he shouted
+it out. Yes, St. George was his father now!
+
+Then his mind reverted to his former treatment of his son and for the
+hundredth time he reviewed his side of the case. What else could he have
+done and still maintain the standards of his ancestors?--the universal
+question around Kennedy Square, when obligations of blood and training
+were to be considered. After all it had only been an object lesson; he
+had fully intended to forgive him later on. When Harry was a boy he
+punished him as boys were punished; when he became a man he punished him
+as men were punished. But for St. George the plan would long since have
+worked. St. George had balked him twice--once at the club and once at
+his home in Kennedy Square, when he practically ordered him from the
+house.
+
+And yet he could not but admit--and at this he sat bolt upright in his
+seat--that even according to his own high standards both St. George and
+Harry had measured up to them! Rather than touch another penny of his
+uncle's money Harry had become an exile; rather than accept a penny from
+his enemy, St. George had become a pauper. With this view of the case
+fermenting in his mind--and he had not realized the extent of both
+sacrifices until that moment--a feeling of pride swept through him. It
+was HIS BOY and HIS FRIEND, who had measured up!--by suffering, by
+bodily weakness--by privation--by starvation! And both had manfully and
+cheerfully stood the test! It was the blood of the DeRuyters which had
+put courage into the boy; it was the blood of the cavaliers that had
+made Temple the man he was. And that old DeRuyter blood! How it had told
+in every glance of his son's eyes and every intonation of his voice! If
+he had not accumulated a fortune he would--and that before many years
+were gone. But!--and here a chill went through him. Would not this still
+further separate them, and if it did how could he restore in the
+shortest possible time the old dependence and the old confidence? His
+efforts so far had met with almost a rebuff, for Harry had shown no
+particular pleasure when he told him of his intention to put him in
+charge of the estate: he had watched his face closely for a sign of
+satisfaction, but none had come. He had really seemed more interested in
+getting St. George downstairs than in being the fourth heir of Moorlands
+--indeed, it was very evident that he had no thought for anybody or
+anything except St. George.
+
+All this the son might have known could he have sat by his father in the
+carryall on this way to Moorlands.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+
+
+The sudden halting of two vehicles close to the horse-block of the
+Temple Mansion--one an aristocratic carryall driven by a man in livery,
+and the other a dilapidated city hack in charge of a negro in patched
+overcoat and whitey-brown hat, the discharge of their inmates, one of
+whom was Colonel Talbot Rutter of Moorlands carrying two pillows, and
+another a strange young man loaded down with blankets--the slow
+disembarking of a gentleman in so wretched a state of health that he was
+practically carried up the front steps by his body-servant, and the
+subsequent arrival of Dr. Teackle on the double quick--was a sight so
+unusual in and around peaceful Kennedy Square that it is not surprising
+that all sorts of reports--most of them alarming--reached the club long
+before St. George had been comfortably tucked away in bed.
+
+Various versions were afloat: "St. George was back from Wesley with a
+touch of chills and fever--" "St. George was back from Wesley with a
+load of buckshot in his right arm--" "St. George had broken his
+collar-bone riding to hounds--" etc.
+
+Richard Horn was the first to spring to his feet--it was the afternoon
+hour and the club was full--and cross the Square on the run, followed by
+Clayton, Bowman, and two or three others. These, with one accord, banged
+away on the knocker, only to be met by Dr. Teackle, who explained that
+there was nothing seriously the matter with Mr. Temple, except an attack
+of foolhardiness in coming up the bay when he should have stayed in
+bed--but even that should cause his friends no uneasiness, as he was
+still as tough as a lightwood knot, and bubbling over with good humor;
+all he needed was rest, and that he must have--so please everybody come
+to-morrow.
+
+By the next morning the widening of ripples caused by the dropping of a
+high-grade invalid into the still pool of Kennedy Square, spread with
+such force and persistency that one wavelet overflowed Kate's
+dressing-room. Indeed, it came in with Mammy Henny and her coffee.
+
+"Marse George home, honey--Ben done see Todd. Got a mis'ry in his back
+dat bad it tuk two gemmens to tote him up de steps."
+
+"Uncle George home, and ill!"
+
+That was enough for Kate. She didn't want any coffee--she didn't want
+any toast or muffins, or hominy--she wanted her shoes and stockings
+and--Yes everything, and quick!--and would Mammy Henny call Ben and
+send him right away to Mr. Temple's and find out how her dear Uncle
+George had passed the night, and give him her dearest love and tell him
+she would come right over to see him the moment she could get into her
+clothes; and could she send anything for him to eat; and did the doctor
+think it was dangerous--? Yes--and Ben must keep on to Dr. Teackle's and
+find out if it was dangerous--and say to him that Miss Seymour wanted to
+know IMMEDIATELY, and-- (Here the poor child lost her breath, she was
+dressing all the time, Mammy Henny's fingers and ears doing their best)
+"and tell Mr. Temple, too," she rushed on, "that he must send word by
+Ben for ANYTHING and EVERYTHING he needed" (strong accent on the two
+words) ... all of which was repeated through the crack of the door to
+patient Ben when he presented himself, with the additional assurance
+that he must tell Mr. Temple it wouldn't be five minutes before she
+would be with him--as she was nearly dressed, all but her hair.
+
+She was right about her good intentions, but she was wrong about the
+number of minutes necessary to carry them out. There was her morning
+gown to button, and her gaiters to lace, and her hair to be braided and
+caught up in her neck (she always wore it that way in the morning) and
+the dearest of snug bonnets--a "cabriolet" from Paris--a sort of hood,
+stiffened with wires, out of which peeped pink rosebuds quite as they do
+from a trellis--had to be put on, and the white strings tied "just
+so"--the bows flaring out and the long ends smoothed flat; and then the
+lace cape and scarf and her parasol;--all these and a dozen other little
+niceties had to be adjusted before she could trip down her father's
+stairs and out of her father's swinging gate and on through the park to
+her dear Uncle George.
+
+But when she did--and it took her all of an hour--nothing that the
+morning sun shone on was quite as lovely, and no waft of air so
+refreshing or so welcome as our beloved heroine when she burst in upon
+him.
+
+"Oh!--you dear, DEAR thing!" she cried, tossing her parasol on Pawson's
+table and stretching out her arms toward him sitting in his chair. "Oh,
+I am so sorry! Why didn't you let me know you were ill? I would have
+gone down to Wesley. Oh!--I KNEW something was the matter with you or
+you would have answered my letters."
+
+He had struggled to his feet at the first sound of her footsteps in the
+hall, and had her in his arms long before she had finished her
+greeting;--indeed her last sentence was addressed to the collar of his
+coat against which her cheek was cushioned.
+
+"Who said I was ill?" he asked with one of his bubbling laughs when he
+got his breath.
+
+"Todd told Ben--and you ARE!--and it breaks my heart." She was holding
+herself off now, scanning his pale face and shrunken frame--"Oh, I am so
+sorry you did not let me know!"
+
+"Todd is a chatterer, and Ben no better; I've only had a bad cold--and
+you couldn't have done me a bit of good if you had come--and now I am
+entirely well, never felt better in my life. Oh--but it's good to get
+hold of you, Kate,--and you are still the same bunch of roses. Sit down
+now and tell me all about it. I wish I had a better chair for you, my
+dear, but the place is quite dismantled, as you see. I expected to stay
+the winter when I left."
+
+She had not given a thought to the chair or to the changes--had not even
+noticed them. That the room was stripped of its furniture prior to a
+long stay was what invariably occurred in her own house every summer: it
+was her precious uncle's pale, shrunken face and the blue veins that
+showed in the backs of his dear transparent hands which she held between
+her own, and the thin, emaciated wrists that absorbed her.
+
+"You poor, dear Uncle George!" she purred--"and nobody to look after
+you." He had drawn up Pawson's chair and had placed her in it beside the
+one he sat in, and had then dropped slowly into his own, the better to
+hide from her his weakness--but it did not deceive her. "I'm going to
+have you put back to bed this very minute; you are not strong enough to
+sit up. Let me call Aunt Jemima."
+
+St. George shook his head good-naturedly in denial and smoothed her
+hands with his fingers.
+
+"Call nobody and do nothing but sit beside me and let me look into your
+face and listen to your voice. I have been pretty badly shaken up; had
+two weeks of it that couldn't have been much worse--but since then I
+have been on the mend and am getting stronger every minute. I haven't
+had any medicine and I don't want any now--I just want you and--" he
+hesitated, and seeing nothing in her eyes of any future hope for Harry,
+finished the sentence, with "and one or two others to sit by me and
+cheer me up; that's better than all the doctors in the, world. And now,
+first about your father and then about yourself."
+
+"Oh, he's very well," she rejoined absently. "He's off somewhere, went
+away two days ago. He'll be back in a week. But you must have something
+to eat--GOOD things!"--her mind still occupied with his condition. "I'm
+going to have some chicken broth made the moment I get home and it will
+be sent fresh every day: and you must eat every bit of it!"
+
+Again St. George's laugh rang out. He had let her run on--it was music
+to his ears--that he might later on find some clue on which he could
+frame a question he had been revolving in his mind ever since he heard
+her voice in the hall. He would not tell her about Harry--better wait
+until he could read her thoughts the clearer. If he could discover by
+some roundabout way that she would still refuse to see him it would be
+best not to embarrass her with any such request; especially on this her
+first visit.
+
+"Yes--I'll eat anything and everything you send me, you dear Kate--and
+many thanks to you, provided you'll come with it--you are the best broth
+for me. But you haven't answered my question--not all of it. What have
+YOU been doing since I left?"
+
+"Wondering whether you would forgive me for the rude way in which I left
+you the last time I saw you,--the night of Mr. Horn's reading, for one
+thing. I went off with Mr. Willits and never said a word to you. I wrote
+you a letter telling you how sorry I was, but you never answered it, and
+that made me more anxious than ever."
+
+"What foolishness, Kate! I never got it, of course, or you would have
+heard from me right away. A number of my letters have gone astray of
+late. But I don't remember a thing about it, except that you walked off
+with your--" again he hesitated--"with Mr. Willits, which, of course,
+was the most natural thing for you to do in the world. How is he, by the
+way?"
+
+Kate drew back her shoulders with that quick movement common to her when
+some antagonism in her mind preceded her spoken word.
+
+"I don't know--I haven't seen him for some weeks."
+
+St. George started in his chair: "You haven't! He isn't ill, is he?"
+
+"No, I think not," she rejoined calmly.
+
+"Oh, then he has gone down to his father's. Yes, I remember he goes
+quite often," he ventured.
+
+"No, I think he is still here." Her gaze was on the window as she spoke,
+through which could be seen the tops of the trees glistening in the
+sunlight.
+
+"And you haven't seen him? Why?" asked St. George wonderingly--he was
+not sure he had heard her aright.
+
+"I told him not to come," she replied in a positive tone.
+
+St. George settled back in his chair. Had there been a clock in the room
+its faintest tick would have rung out like a trip-hammer.
+
+"Then you have had a quarrel: he has broken his promise to you and got
+drunk again."
+
+"No, he has never broken it; he has kept it as faithfully as Harry kept
+his."
+
+"You don't mean, Kate, that you have broken off your engagement?"
+
+She reached over and picked up her parasol: "There never was any
+engagement. I have always felt sorry for Mr. Willits and tried my best
+to love him and couldn't--that is all. He understands it perfectly; we
+both do. It was one of the things that couldn't be."
+
+All sorts of possibilities surged one after the other through the old
+diplomat's mind. A dim light increasing in intensity began to shine
+about him. What it meant he dared not hope. "What does your father say?"
+he asked slowly, after a pause in which he had followed every expression
+that crossed her face.
+
+"Nothing--and it wouldn't alter the case if he did. I am the best judge
+of what is good for me." There was a certain finality in her cadences
+that repelled all further discussion. He remembered having heard the
+same ring before.
+
+"When did all this happen?--this telling him not to come?" he persisted,
+determined to widen the inquiry. His mind was still unable to fully
+grasp the situation.
+
+"About five weeks ago. Do you want to know the very night?" She turned
+her head as she spoke and looked at him with her full, deep eyes.
+
+"Yes, if you wish me to."
+
+"The night Mr. Horn read 'The Cricket on the Hearth,'" she answered in a
+tone of relief--as if some great crisis had marked the hour, the passing
+of which had brought her infinite peace. "I told him when I got home,
+and I have never seen him since."
+
+For some seconds St. George did not move. He had turned from her and sat
+with his head resting on his hand, his eyes intent on the smouldering
+fire: he dare not trust himself to speak; wide ranges opened before him;
+the light had strengthened until it was blinding. Kate sat motionless,
+her hands in her lap, her eyes searching St. George's face for some
+indication of the effect of her news. Then finding him still silent and
+absorbed in his thoughts, she went on:
+
+"There was nothing else to do, Uncle George. I had done all I could to
+please my father and one or two of my friends. There was nothing against
+him--he was very kind and very considerate--but somehow I--" She paused
+and drew a long breath.
+
+"Somehow what?" demanded St. George raising his head quickly and
+studying her the closer. The situation was becoming vital now--too vital
+for any further delay.
+
+"Oh, I don't know--I couldn't love him--that's all. He has many
+excellent qualities--too many maybe," and she smiled faintly. "You know
+I never liked people who were too good--that is, too willing to do
+everything you wanted them to do--especially men who ought really to be
+masters and--" She stopped and played with the top of her parasol,
+smoothing the knob with her palm as if the better to straighten out the
+tangle in her mind. "I expect you will think me queer, Uncle George, but
+I have come to the conclusion that I will never love anybody again--I am
+through with all that. It's very hard, you know, to mend a thing when
+it's broken. I used to say to myself that when I grew to be a woman I
+supposed I would love as any other woman seemed content to love; that no
+romance of a young girl was ever realized and that they could only be
+found in love stories. But my theories all went to pieces when I heard
+Mr. Horn that night. Dot's love for John the Carrier--I have read it so
+often since that I know the whole story by heart--Dot's love for John
+was the real thing, but May Fielding's love for Tackleton wasn't. And it
+seemed so wonderful when her lover came home and--it's foolish, I
+know--very silly--that I should have been so moved by just the reading
+of a story--but it's true. It takes only a very little to push you over
+when you are on the edge, and I had been on the edge for a long time.
+But don't let us talk about it, dear Uncle George," she added with a
+forced smile. "I'm going to take care of you now and be a charming old
+maid with side curls and spectacles and make flannel things for the
+poor--you just wait and see what a comfort I will be." Her lips were
+trembling, the tears crowding over the edges of her lids.
+
+St. George stretched out his hand and in his kindest voice said:
+
+"Was it the carrier and his wife, or was it the sailor boy who came back
+so fine and strong, that affected you, Kate?--and made you give up Mr.
+Willits?" He would go to the bottom now.
+
+"It was everything, Uncle George--the sweetness of it all--her pride in
+her husband--his doubts of her--her repentance; and yet she did what
+she thought was for the best; and then his forgiveness and the way he
+wanted to take her in his arms at last and she would not until she
+explained. And there was nothing really to explain--only love, and
+trust, and truth--all the time believing in him--loving him. Oh, it is
+cruel to part people--it's so mean and despicable! There are so many
+Tackletons--and the May Fieldings go to the altar and so on to their
+graves--and there is often such a very little difference between the
+two. I never gave my promise to Mr. Willits. I would not!--I could not!
+He kept hoping and waiting. He was very gentle and patient--he never
+coaxed nor pleaded, but just--Oh, Uncle George!--let me talk it all
+out--I have nobody else. I missed you so, and there was no one who
+could understand, and you wouldn't answer my letters." She was crying
+softly to herself, her beautiful head resting on her elbow pillowed on
+the back of his chair.
+
+He leaned forward the closer: he loved this girl next best to Harry. Her
+sorrows were his own. Was it all coming out as he had hoped and prayed
+for? He could hardly restrain himself in his eagerness.
+
+"Did you miss anybody else, Kate?" There was a peculiar tenderness in
+his voice.
+
+She did not raise her head nor did she answer. St. George waited and
+repeated the question, Slipping his hand over hers, as he spoke.
+
+"It was the loneliness, Uncle George," she replied, evading his
+inference. "I tried to forget it all, and I threw open our house and
+gave parties and dances--hardly a week but there has been something
+going on--but nothing did any good. I have been--yes--wretchedly
+unhappy and--No, it will only distress you to hear it--don't let's talk
+any more about it. I won't let you go away again. I'll go away with you
+if you don't get better soon, anywhere you say. We'll go down to the
+White Sulphur--Yes--we'll go there. The air is so bracing--it wouldn't
+be a week before all the color would come back to your cheeks and you be
+as strong as ever."
+
+He was not listening. His mind was framing a question--one he must ask
+without committing himself or her. He was running a parallel,
+really--reading her heart by a flank movement.
+
+"Kate, dear?" He had regained his position although he still kept hold
+of her hand.
+
+"Yes, Uncle George."
+
+"Did you write to Harry, as I asked you?"
+
+"No, it wouldn't have done any good. I have had troubles enough of my
+own without adding any to his."
+
+"Were you afraid he would not answer it?"
+
+She lifted her head and tightened her fingers about his own, her wet
+eyes looking into his.
+
+"I was afraid of myself. I have never known my own mind and I don't know
+it now. I have played fast and loose with everybody--I can't bind up a
+broken arm and then break it again."
+
+"Wouldn't it be better to try?" he said softly.
+
+"No, I don't think so."
+
+St. George released her hand and settled back in his chair; his face
+grew grave. What manner of woman was this, and how could he reach the
+inner kernel of her heart? Again he raised his head and leaning forward
+took both her hands between his own.
+
+"I am going to tell you a story, Kate--one you have never heard--not all
+of it. When I was about your age--a little older perhaps, I gave my
+heart to a woman who had known me from a boy; with whom I had played
+when she was a child. I'm not going into the whole story, such things
+are always sad; nor will I tell you anything of the beginning of the
+three happy months of our betrothal nor of what caused our separation. I
+shall only tell you of the cruelty of the end. There was a
+misunderstanding--a quarrel--I begging her forgiveness on my knees. All
+the time her heart was breaking. One little word from her would have
+healed everything. Some years after that she married and her life still
+goes on. I am what you see."
+
+Kate looked at him with swimming eyes. She dimly remembered that she had
+heard that her uncle had had a love affair in his youth and that his
+sweetheart had jilted him for a richer man, but she had never known that
+he had suffered so bitterly over it. Her heart went out to him all the
+more.
+
+"Will you tell me who it was?" She had no right to ask; but she might
+comfort him the better if she knew.
+
+"Harry's mother."
+
+Kate dropped his hands and drew back in her seat.
+
+"You--loved--Mrs.--Rutter--and she--refused you for--Oh!--what a cruel
+thing to do! And what a fool she was. Now I know why you have been so
+good to Harry. Oh, you poor, dear Uncle George. Oh, to think that you of
+all men! Is there any one whose heart is not bruised and broken?" she
+added in a helpless tone.
+
+"Plenty of them, Kate--especially those who have been willing to stoop a
+little and so triumph. Harry has waited three years for some word from
+you; he has not asked for it, for he believes you have forgotten him;
+and then he was too much of a man to encroach upon another's rights.
+Does your breaking off with Mr. Willits alter the case in any way?--does
+it make any difference? Is this sailor boy always to be a wanderer
+--never to come home to his people and the woman he loves?"
+
+"He'll never come back to me, Uncle George," she said with a shudder,
+dropping her eyes. "I found that out the day we talked together in the
+park, just before he left. And he's not coming home. Father got a letter
+from one of his agents who had seen him. He was looking very well and
+was going up into the mountains--I wrote you about it. I am sorry you
+didn't get the letter--but of course he has written you too."
+
+"Suppose I should tell you that he would come back if he thought you
+would be glad to see him--glad in the old way?"
+
+Kate shook her head: "He would never come. He hates me, and I don't
+blame him. I hate myself when I think of it all."
+
+"But if he should walk in now?"--he was very much afraid he would, and
+he was not quite ready for him yet. What he was trying to find out was
+not whether Kate would be glad to see Harry as a relief to her
+loneliness, but whether she really LOVED him.
+
+Some tone in his voice caught her ear. She turned her head quickly and
+looked at him with wondering gaze, as if she would read his inmost
+thoughts.
+
+"You mean that he is coming, Uncle George--that Harry IS coming home!"
+she exclaimed excitedly, the color ebbing from her cheeks.
+
+"He is already here, Kate. He slept upstairs in his old room last night.
+I expect him in any minute."
+
+"Here!--in this room!" She was on her feet in an instant, her face
+deathly pale, her whole frame shaking. Which way should she turn to
+escape? To meet him face to face would bring only excruciating pain.
+"Oh, why didn't you tell me, Uncle George!" she burst out. "I won't see
+him! I can't!--not now--not here! Let me go home--let me think! No--
+don't stop me!" and catching up her cape and parasol she was out the
+door and down the steps before he could call her back or even realize
+that she had gone.
+
+Once on the pavement she looked nervously up and down the street,
+gathered her pretty skirts tight in her hand and with the fluttered
+flight of a scared bird darted across the park, dashed through her
+swinging gate, and so on up to her bedroom.
+
+There she buried her face in Mammy Henny's lap and burst into an agony
+of tears.
+
+
+While all this had been going on upstairs another equally important
+conference was taking place in Pawson's office below, where Harry at
+Pawson's request had gone to meet Gadgem and talk over certain plans for
+his uncle's future welfare. He had missed Kate by one of those trifling
+accidents which often determine the destiny of nations and of men. Had
+he, after attending to the business of the morning--(he had been down to
+Marsh Market with Todd for supplies)--mounted the steps to see his
+uncle instead of yielding to a sudden impulse to interview Pawson first
+and his uncle afterward, he would have come upon Kate at the very moment
+she was pouring out her heart to St. George.
+
+But no such fatality or stroke of good fortune--whatever the gods had
+in store for him--took place. On the contrary he proceeded calmly to
+carry out the details of a matter of the utmost importance to all
+concerned--one in which both Pawson and Gadgem were interested--(indeed
+he had come at Pawson's suggestion to discuss its details with the
+collector and himself):--all of which the Scribe promises in all honor
+to reveal to his readers before the whole of this story is told.
+
+Harry walked straight up to Gadgem:
+
+"I am very glad to see you, Mr. Gadgem," he said in his manly, friendly
+way. "You have been very good to my uncle, and I want to thank you both
+for him and for myself," and he shook the little man's hand heartily.
+
+Gadgem blushed. St. George's democracy he could understand; but why this
+aristocrat--outcast as he had once been, but now again in favor--why
+this young prince, the heir to Moorlands and the first young blood of
+his time, should treat him as an equal, puzzled him; and yet, somehow,
+his heart warmed to him as he read his sincerity in his eyes and voice.
+
+"Thank you, sir--thank you very much, sir," rejoined Gadgem, with a
+folding-camp-stool-movement, his back bent at right angles with his
+legs. "I really don't deserve it, sir. Mr. Temple is an EXtraordinary
+man, sir; the most EXtraordinary man I have ever met, sir. Give you the
+shirt off his back, sir, and go NAked himself."
+
+"Yes, he gave it to me," laughed Harry, greatly amused at the
+collector's effusive manner: He had never seen this side of Gadgem.
+"That, of course, you know all about--you paid the bills, I believe."
+
+"PREcisely so, sir." He had lengthened out now with a spiral-spring,
+cork-screw twist in his body, his index finger serving as point. "Paid
+every one of them. He never cared, sir--he GLOried in it--GLOried in
+being a pauper. UNaccountable, Mr. Rutter--Enormously unaccountable.
+Never heard of such a case; never WILL hear of such a case. So what was
+to be done, sir? Just what I may state is being done this minute over
+our heads UPstairs": and out went the index finger. "Rest and
+REcuperation, sir--a slow--a very slow use of AVAILable assets until new
+and FURther AVAILable assets could become visible. And they are here,
+sir--have arRIVED. You may have heard, of course, of the Patapsco where
+Mr. Temple kept the largest part of his fortune."
+
+"No, except that it about ruined everybody who had anything to do with
+it."
+
+"Then you have heard nothing of the REsuscitation!" cried Gadgem, all
+his fingers opened like a fan, his eyebrows arched to the roots of his
+hair. "You surPRISE me! And you are really ignorant of the PHOEnix-like
+way in which it has RISen from its ashes? I said RISen, sir, because it
+is now but a dim speck in the financial sky. Nor the appointment of Mr.
+John Gorsuch as manager, ably backed by your DIStinguished father--the
+setting of the bird upon its legs--I'm speaking of the burnt bird, sir,
+the PHOEnix. I'm quite sure it was a bird--Nor the payment on the first
+of the ensuing month of some eighty per cent of the amounts due the
+ORIGinal depositors and another twenty per cent in one year
+thereafter--The cancelling of the mortgage which your most BEnevolent
+and HONorable father bought, and the sly trick of Gorsuch--letting
+Fogbin, who never turned up, become the sham tenant--and the joy--"
+
+"Hold on Mr. Gadgem--I'm not good at figures. Give me that over again
+and speak slower. Am I to understand that the bank will pay back to my
+uncle, within a day or so, three-quarters of the money they stole from
+him?"
+
+"STOLE, sir!" chided Gadgem, his outstretched forefinger wig-wagging a
+Fie! Fie! gesture of disapproval--"STOLE is not a pretty
+word--actionable, sir--DANgerously actionable--a question of the
+watch-house, and, if I might be permitted to say--a bit of COLD lead--
+Perhaps you will allow me to suggest the word 'maNIPulated,' sir--the
+money the bank maNIPulated from your confiding and inexperienced
+uncle--that is safer and it is equally EXpressive. He! He!"
+
+"Well, will he get the money?" cried Harry, his face lighting up, his
+interest in the outcome outweighing his amusement over Gadgem's antics
+and expressions.
+
+"He WILL, sir," rejoined Gadgem decisively.
+
+"And you are so sure of it that you would be willing to advance one-half
+the amount if the account was turned over to you this minute?" cried
+Harry eagerly.
+
+"No sir--not one-half--ALL of it--less a TRIfling commission for my
+services of say one per cent. When you say 'this minute,' sir, I must
+reply that the brevity of the area of action becomes a trifle ACUTE,
+yes, ALARMingly acute. I haven't the money myself, sir--that is, not
+about my person--but I can get it in an hour, sir--in less time, if Mr.
+Temple is willing. That was my purpose in coming here, sir--that was why
+Mr. Pawson sent for me, sir; and it is but fair to say that you can
+thank your DIStinguished father for it all, sir--he has worked night and
+day to do it. Colonel Rutter has taken over--so I am inFORMED--I'm not
+sure, but I am inFORMED--taken over a lot of the securities himself so
+that he COULD do it. Another EXtraordinary combination, if you will
+permit me to say so--I refer to your father--a man who will show you his
+door one minute and open his pocketbook and his best bottle of wine for
+you the next," and he plunged himself down in his seat with so
+determined a gesture that it left no question on Harry's mind that he
+intended sitting it out until daylight should there be the faintest
+possibility of his financial proposition being accepted.
+
+Harry walked to the window and gazed out on the trees. There was no
+doubt now that Mr. Temple was once more on his feet. "Uncle George will
+go now to Moorlands," he said, decisively, in a low tone, speaking to
+himself, his heart swelling with pride at this fresh evidence of his
+father's high sense of honor--then he wheeled and addressed the
+attorney:
+
+"Shall I tell Mr. Temple this news, about the Patapsco Bank, Mr.
+Pawson?"
+
+"Yes, if you think best, Mr. Rutter. And I have another piece of good
+news. This please do not tell Mr. Temple, not yet--not until it is
+definitely settled. That old suit in Chancery has been decided, or will
+be, so I learned this morning and decided in favor of the heir. You may
+not have heard of it before, Gadgem," and he turned to the collector,
+"but it is one of old General Dorsey Temple's left-overs. It has been in
+the courts now some forty years. When this decision is made binding,"
+here he again faced Harry--"Mr. Temple comes in for a considerable
+share."
+
+Gadgem jumped to his feet and snapped his fingers rapidly. Had he sat on
+a tack his rebound could not have been more sudden. This last was news
+to him.
+
+"SHORN lamb, sir!" he cried gleefully, rubbing his palms together, his
+body tied into a double bow-knot. "Gentle breezes; bread upon the
+waters! By jiminy, Mr. Rutter, if Mr. Temple could be born
+again--figuratively, sir--and I could walk in upon him as I once did,
+and find him at breakfast surrounded by all his comforts with Todd
+waiting upon him--a very good nigger is Todd, sir--an exCEPtionally good
+nigger--I'd--I'd--damn me, Mr. Rutter, I'd--well, sir, there's no
+word--but John Gadgem, sir--well, I'll be damned if he wouldn't--" and
+he began skipping about the room, both feet in the air, as if he was a
+boy of twenty instead of a thin, shambling, badly put together bill
+collector in an ill-fitting brown coat, a hat much the worse for wear,
+and a red cotton handkerchief addicted to weekly ablutions.
+
+As for Harry the glad news had cleared out wide spaces before him, such
+as he had not looked through in years; leafy vistas, with glimpses of
+sunlit meadows; shadow-flecked paths leading to manor-houses with summer
+skies beyond. He, too, was on his feet, walking restlessly up and down.
+
+Pawson and Gadgem again put their heads together, Harry stopping to
+listen. Such expressions as "Certainly," "I think I can": "Yes, of
+course it was there when I was last in his place," "Better see him
+first," caught his ear.
+
+At last he could stand it no longer. Dr. Teackle or no Dr. Teackle, he
+would go upstairs, open the door softly, and if his uncle was awake
+whisper the good news in his ear. If anybody had whispered any such
+similar good news in his ear on any one of the weary nights he had lain
+awake waiting for the dawn, or at any time of the day when he sat his
+horse, his rifle across the pommel, it would have made another man of
+him.
+
+If his uncle was awake!
+
+He was not only awake, but he was very much alive.
+
+"I've got a great piece of news for you, Uncle George!" Harry shouted in
+a rollicking tone, his joy increasing as he noted his uncle's renewed
+strength.
+
+"So have I got a great piece of news for you!" was shouted back. "Come
+in, you young rascal, and shut that door behind you. She isn't going to
+marry Willits. Thrown him over--don't want him--don't love him--can't
+love him--never did love him! She's just told me so. Whoop--hurrah! I
+Dance, you dog, before I throw this chair at you!!"
+
+There are some moments in a man's life when all language
+fails;--pantomime moments, when one stares and tries to speak and stares
+again. They were both at it--St. George waiting until Harry should
+explode, and Harry trying to get his breath, the earth opening under
+him, the skies falling all about his head.
+
+"She told you so! When!" he gasped.
+
+"Two minutes ago--you've just missed her! Where the devil have you been?
+Why didn't you come in before?"
+
+"Kate here--two minutes ago--what will I do?" Had he found himself at
+sea in an open boat with both oars adrift he could not have been more
+helpless.
+
+"DO! Catch her before she gets home! Quick!--just as you are--sailor
+clothes and all!"
+
+"But how will I know if--?"
+
+"You don't have to know! Away with you, I tell you!"
+
+And away he went--and if you will believe it, dear reader--without even
+a whisper in his uncle's ears of the good news he had come to tell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+
+
+Ben let him in.
+
+He came as an apparition, the old butler balancing the door in his hand,
+as if undecided what to do, trying to account for the change in the
+young man's appearance--the width of shoulders, the rough clothes, and
+the determined glance of his eye.
+
+"Fo' Gawd, it's Marse Harry!" was all he said when he could get his
+mouth open.
+
+"Yes, Ben--go and tell your mistress I am here," and he brushed past him
+and pushed back the drawing-room door. Once inside he crossed to the
+mantel and stood with his back to the hearth, his sailor's cap in his
+hand, his eyes fixed on the door he had just closed behind him. Through
+it would come the beginning or the end of his life. Ben's noiseless
+entrance and exit a moment after, with his mistress's message neither
+raised nor depressed his hopes. He had known all along she would not
+refuse to see him: what would come after was the wall that loomed up.
+
+She had not hesitated, nor did she keep him waiting. Her eyes were still
+red with weeping, her hair partly dishevelled, when Ben found her--but
+she did not seem to care. Nor was she frightened--nor eager. She just
+lifted her cheek from Mammy Henny's caressing hand--pushed back the hair
+from her face with a movement as if she was trying to collect her
+thoughts, and without rising from her knees heard Ben's message to the
+end. Then she answered calmly:
+
+"Did you say Mr. Harry Rutter, Ben? Tell him I'll be down in a moment."
+
+
+She entered with that same graceful movement which he loved so well--her
+head up, her face turned frankly toward him, one hand extended in
+welcome.
+
+"Uncle George told me you were back, Harry. It was very good of you to
+come," and sank on the sofa.
+
+It had been but a few steps to him--the space between the open door and
+the hearth rug on which he stood--and it had taken her but a few seconds
+to cross it, but in that brief interval the heavens had opened above
+her. The old Harry was there--the smile--the flash in the eyes--the joy
+of seeing her--the quick movement of his hand in gracious salute; then
+there had followed a sense of his strength, of the calm poise of his
+body, of the clearness of his skin. She saw, too, how much handsomer he
+had grown,--and noted the rough sailor's clothes. How well they fitted
+his robust frame! And the clear, calm eyes and finely cut features--no
+shrinking from responsibility in that face; no faltering--the old ideal
+of her early love and the new ideal of her sailor boy--the one Richard's
+voice had conjured--welded into one personality!
+
+"I heard you had just been in to see Uncle George, Kate, and I tried to
+overtake you."
+
+Not much: nothing in fact. Playwriters tell us that the dramatic
+situation is the thing, and that the spoken word is as unimportant to
+the play as the foot-lights--except as a means of illuminating the
+situation.
+
+"Yes--I have just left him, Harry. Uncle George looks very badly--don't
+you think so? Is there anything very serious the matter? I sent Ben to
+Dr. Teackle's, but he was not in his office."
+
+He had moved up a chair and sat devouring every vibration of her lips,
+every glance of her wondrous eyes--all the little movements of her
+beautiful body--her dress--the way the stray strands of hair had
+escaped to her shoulders. His Kate!--and yet he dare not touch her!
+
+"No, he is not ill. He took a severe cold and only needs rest and a
+little care. I am glad you went and--" then the pent-up flood broke
+loose. "Are you glad to see me, Kate?"
+
+"I am always glad to see you, Harry--and you look so well. It has been
+nearly three years, hasn't it?" Her calmness was maddening; she spoke as
+if she was reciting a part in which she had no personal interest.
+
+"I don't know--I haven't counted--not that way. I have lain awake too
+many nights and suffered too much to count by years. I count by--"
+
+She raised her hand in protest: "Don't Harry--please don't. All the
+suffering has not been yours!" The impersonal tone was gone--there was a
+note of agony in her voice.
+
+His manner softened: "Don't think I blame you, Kate. I love you too much
+to blame you--you did right. The suffering has only done me good--I am a
+different man from the one you once knew. I see life with a wider
+vision. I know what it is to be hungry; I know, too, what it is to earn
+the bread that has kept me alive. I came home to look after Uncle
+George. When I go back I want to take him with me. I won't count the
+years nor all the suffering I have gone through if I can pay him back
+what I owe him. He stood by me when everybody else deserted me."
+
+She winced a little at the thrust, as if he had touched some sore spot,
+sending a shiver of pain through her frame, but she did not defend
+herself.
+
+"You mustn't take him away, Harry--leave Uncle George to me," not as if
+she demanded it--more as if she was stating a fact.
+
+"Why not? He will be another man out in Brazil--and he can live there
+like a gentleman on what he will have left--so Pawson thinks."
+
+"Because I love him dearly--and when he is gone I have nobody left," she
+answered in a hopeless tone.
+
+Harry hesitated, then he asked: "And so what Uncle George told me about
+Mr. Willits is true?"
+
+Kate looked at him furtively--as if afraid to read his thoughts and for
+reply bowed her head in assent.
+
+"Didn't he love you enough?" There was a certain reproach in his tone,
+as if no one could love this woman enough to satisfy her.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What was the matter then? Was it--" He stopped--his eagerness had led
+him onto dangerous, if not discourteous, grounds. "No, you needn't
+answer--forgive me for asking--I had no right. I am not myself, Kate--I
+didn't mean to--"
+
+"Yes, I'll tell you. I told Uncle George. I didn't like him well
+enough--that's all." All this time she was looking him calmly in the
+face. If she had done anything to be ashamed of she did not intend to
+conceal it from her former lover.
+
+"And will Uncle George take his place now that he's gone? Do you ever
+know your own heart, Kate?" There was no bitterness in his question. Her
+frankness had disarmed him of that. It was more in the nature of an
+inquiry, as if he was probing for something on which he could build a
+hope.
+
+For a brief instant she made no answer; then she said slowly and with a
+certain positiveness:
+
+"If I had I would have saved myself and you a great deal of misery."
+
+"And Langdon Willits?"
+
+"No, he cannot complain--he does not--I promised him nothing. But I have
+been so beaten about, and I have tried so hard to do right; and it has
+all crumbled to pieces. As for you and me, Harry, let us both forget
+that we have ever had any differences. I can't bear to think that
+whenever you come home we must avoid each other. We were friends
+once--let us be friends again. It was very kind of you to come. I'm glad
+you didn't wait. Don't be bitter in your heart toward me."
+
+Harry left his chair and settled down on the sofa beside her, and in
+pleading, tender tones said:
+
+"Kate--When was I ever bitter toward you in my heart? Look at me! Do you
+realize how I love you?--Do you know it sets me half crazy to hear you
+talk like that? I haven't come here to-day to reproach you--I have come
+to do what I can to help you, if you want my help. I told you the last
+time we talked in the park that I wouldn't stay in Kennedy Square a day
+longer even if you begged me to. That is over now; I'll do now anything
+you wish me to do; I'll go or I'll stay. I love you too much to do
+anything else."
+
+"No, you don't love me!--you can't love me! I wouldn't let you love me
+after all the misery I have caused you! I didn't know how much until I
+began to suffer myself and saw Mr. Willits suffer. I am not worthy of
+any man's love. I will never trust myself again--I can only try to be to
+the men about me as Uncle George is to everyone. Oh, Harry!--
+Harry!--Why was I born this way--headstrong wilful--never satisfied? Why
+am I different from the other women?"
+
+He tried to take her hand, but she drew it away.
+
+"No!--not that!--not that! Let us be just as we were when--Just as we
+used to be. Sit over there where I can see you better and watch your
+face as you talk. Tell me all you have done--what you have seen and what
+sort of places you have been in. We heard from you through--"
+
+He squared his shoulders and faced her, his voice ringing clear, his
+eyes flashing: something of the old Dutch admiral was in his face.
+
+"Kate--I will have none of it! Don't talk such nonsense to me; I won't
+listen. If you don't know your own heart I know mine; you've GOT to love
+me!--you MUST love me! Look at me. In all the years I have been away
+from you I have lived the life you would have me live--every request you
+ever made of me I have carried out. I did this knowing you would never
+be my wife and you would be Willits's! I did it because you were my
+Madonna and my religion and I loved the soul of you and lived for you as
+men live to please the God they have never seen. There were days and
+nights when I never expected to see you or any one else whom I loved
+again--but you never failed--your light never went out in my heart.
+Don't you see now why you've got to love me? What was it you loved in me
+once that I haven't got now? How am I different? What do I lack? Look
+into my eyes--close--deep down--read my heart! Never, as God is my
+judge, have I done a thing since I last kissed your forehead, that you
+would have been ashamed of. Do you think, now that you are free, that I
+am going back without you? I am not that kind of a man."
+
+She half started from her seat: "Harry!" she cried in a helpless
+tone--"you do not know what you are saying--you must not--"
+
+He leaned over and took both her hands firmly in his own.
+
+"Look at me! Tell me the truth--as you would to your God! Do you love
+me?"
+
+She made an effort to withdraw her hands, then she sank back.
+
+"I--I--don't know--" she murmured.
+
+"YOU DO--search again--way down in your heart. Go over every day we have
+lived--when we were children and played together--all that horror at
+Moorlands when I shot Willits--the night of Mrs. Cheston's ball when I
+was drunk--all the hours I have held you in my arms, my lips to yours--
+All of it--every hour of it--balance one against the other. Think of
+your loneliness--not mine--yours--and then tell me you do not know! You
+DO know! Oh, my God, Kate!--you must love me! What else would you want
+a man to do for you that I have not done?"
+
+He stretched out his arms, but she sprang to her feet and put out her
+palms as a barrier.
+
+"No. Let me tell you something. We must have no more
+misunderstandings--you must be sure--I must be sure. I have no right to
+take your heart in my hands again. It is I who have broken my faith with
+you, not you with me. I was truly your wife when I promised you here on
+the sofa that last time. I knew then that you would, perhaps, lose your
+head again, and yet I loved you so much that I could not give you up.
+Then came the night of your father's ball and all the misery, and I was
+a coward and shut myself up instead of keeping my arms around you and
+holding you up to the best that was in you, just as Uncle George begged
+me to do. And when your father turned against you and drove you from
+your home, all because you had tried to defend me from insult, I saw
+only the disgrace and did not see the man behind it; and then you went
+away and I stretched out my arms for you to come back to me and only
+your words echoed in my ears that you would never come back to me until
+you were satisfied with yourself. Then I gave up and argued it out and
+said it was all over--"
+
+He had left his seat and at every sentence had tried to take her in his
+arms, but she kept her palms toward him.
+
+"No, don't touch me! You SHALL hear me out; I must empty all my heart! I
+was lonely and heart-sore and driven half wild with doubts and what
+people said, my father worse than all of them. And Mr. Willits was kind
+and always at my beck and call--and so thoughtful and attentive--and I
+tried and tried--but I couldn't. I always had you before me--and you
+haunted me day and night, and sometimes when he would come in that door
+I used to start, hoping it might be you."
+
+"It IS me, my darling!" he cried, springing toward her. "I don't want to
+hear any more--I must--I will--"
+
+"But you SHALL! There IS something more. It went on and on and I got so
+that I did not care, and one day I thought I would give him my promise
+and the next day all my soul rebelled against it and it was that way
+until one night Mr. Horn read aloud a story--and it all came over me and
+I saw everything plain as if it had been on a stage, and myself and you
+and Mr. Willits--and what it meant--and what would come of it--and he
+walked home with me and I told him frankly, and I have never seen him
+since. And now here is the last and you must hear it out. There is not a
+word I have said to him which I would recall--not a thing I am ashamed
+of. Your lips were the last that touched my own. There, my darling, it
+is all told. I love you with my whole heart and soul and mind and
+body--I have never loved anybody else--I have tried and tried and
+couldn't. I am so tired of thinking for myself,--so tired,--so tired.
+Take me and do with me as you will!"
+
+Again the plot is too strong for the dialogue. He had her fast in his
+arms before her confession was finished. Then the two sank on the sofa
+where she lay sobbing her heart out, he crooning over her--patting her
+cheeks, kissing away the tears from her eyelids; smoothing the strands
+of her hair with his strong, firm fingers. It was his Kate that lay in
+his grasp--close--tightly pressed--her heart beating against his, her
+warm, throbbing body next his own, her heart swept of every doubt and
+care, all her will gone.
+
+As she grew quiet she stretched up her hand, touching his cheek as if to
+reassure herself that it was really her lover. Yes! It was Harry--HER
+Harry--Harry who was dead and is alive again--to whom she had stripped
+her soul naked--and who still trusted and loved her.
+
+A little later she loosened herself from his embrace and taking his face
+in her small, white hands looked long and earnestly into his eyes,
+smoothing back the hair from his brow as she used to do; kissing him on
+the forehead, on each eyelid, and then on the mouth--one of their
+old-time caresses. Still remembering the old days, she threw back his
+coat and let her hands wander over his full-corded throat and chest and
+arms. How big and strong he had become! and how handsome he had
+grown--the boy merged into the man. And that other something! (and
+another and stronger thrill shot through her)--that other something
+which seemed to flow out of him;--that dominating force that betokened
+leadership, compelling her to follow--not the imperiousness of his
+father, brooking no opposition no matter at what cost, but the
+leadership of experience, courage, and self-reliance.
+
+With this the sense of possession swept over her. He was all her own and
+for ever! A man to lean upon; a man to be proud of; one who would listen
+and understand: to whom she could surrender her last stronghold--her
+will. And the comfort of it all; the rest, the quiet, the assurance of
+everlasting peace: she who had been so torn and buffeted and heart-sore.
+
+For many minutes she lay still from sheer happiness, thrilled by the
+warmth and pressure of his strong arms. At last, when another thought
+could squeeze itself into her mind, she said: "Won't Uncle George be
+glad, Harry?"
+
+"Yes," he answered, releasing her just far enough to look into her eyes.
+"It will make him well. You made him very happy this morning. His
+troubles are over, I hear--he's going to get a lot of his money back."
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad. And will we take him with us?" she asked wonderingly,
+smoothing back his hair as she spoke.
+
+"Take him where, darling?" he laughed.
+
+"To where we are going--No, you needn't laugh--I mean it. I don't care
+where we go," and she looked at him intently. "I'll go with you anywhere
+in the world you say, and I'll start to-morrow."
+
+He caught her again in his arms, kissed her for the hundredth time, and
+then suddenly relaxing his hold asked in assumed alarm: "And what about
+your father? What do you think he will say? He always thought me a
+madcap scapegrace--didn't he?" The memory brought up no regret. He
+didn't care a rap what the Honorable Prim thought of him.
+
+"Yes--he thinks so now," she echoed, wondering how anybody could have
+formed any such ideas of her Harry.
+
+"Well, he will get over it when I talk with him about his coffee people.
+Some of his agents out there want looking after."
+
+"Oh!--how lovely, my precious; talking coffee will be much pleasanter
+than talking me!--and yet we have got to do it somehow when he comes
+home."
+
+And down went her head again, she nestling the closer as if terrified at
+the thought of the impending meeting; then another kiss followed--dozens
+of them--neither of them keeping count, and then--and then--
+................ ...................
+
+And then--Ben tapped gently and announced that dinner was served, and
+Harry stared at the moon-faced dial and saw that it was long after two
+o'clock, and wondered what in the world had become of the four hours
+that had passed since he had rushed down from his uncle's and into
+Kate's arms.
+
+And so we will leave them--playing housekeeping--Harry pulling out her
+chair, she spreading her dainty skirts and saying "Thank you, Mr.
+Rutter--" and Ben with his face in so broad a grin that it got set that
+way--Aunt Dinah, the cook, having to ask him three times "Was he
+gwineter hab a fit" before he could answer by reason of the chuckle
+which was suffocating him.
+
+
+And now as we must close the door for a brief space on the happy
+couple--never so happy in all their lives--it will be just as well for
+us to find out what the mischief is going on at the club--for there is
+something going on--and that of unusual importance.
+
+Everybody is out on the front steps. Old Bowdoin is craning his short
+neck, and Judge Pancoast is saying that it is impossible and then
+instatly changing his mind, saying: "By jove it is!"--and Richard Horn
+and Warfield and Murdoch are leaning over the balcony rail still
+unconvinced and old Harding is pounding his fat thigh with his pudgy
+hand in ill-concealed delight.
+
+Yes--there is no doubt of it--hasn't been any doubt of it since the
+judge shouted out the glad tidings which emptied every chair in the
+club: Across the park, beyond the rickety, vine-covered fence and close
+beside the Temple Mansion, stands a four-in-hand, the afternoon sun
+flashing from the silver mountings of the harness and glinting on the
+polished body and wheels of the coach. Then a crack of the whip, a wind
+of the horn, and they are off--the leaders stretching the traces, two
+men on the box, two grooms in the rear. Hurrah! Well, by thunder, who
+would have believed it--that's Temple inside on the back seat! "There he
+is waving his hand and Todd is with him. And yes! Why of course it's
+Rutter! See him clear that curb! Not a man in this county can drive like
+that but Talbot."
+
+Round they come--the colonel straight as a whip--dusty-brown overcoat,
+flowers in his buttonhole--bell-crowned hat, brown driving
+gloves--perfectly appointed, even if he is a trifle pale and half blind.
+More horn--a long joyous note now, as if they were heralding the peace
+of the world, the colonel bowing like a grand duke as he passes the
+assembled crowd--a gathering of the reins together, a sudden pull-up at
+Seymours', everybody on the front porch--Kate peeping over Harry's
+shoulder--and last and best of all, St. George's cheery voice ringing
+out:
+
+"Where are you two sweethearts!" Not a weak note anywhere; regular
+fog-horn of a voice blown to help shipwrecked mariners.
+
+"All aboard for Moorlands, you turtle-doves--never mind your clothes,
+Kate--nor you either, Harry. Your father will send for them later. Up
+with you."
+
+"All true, Harry," called back the colonel from the top of the coach
+(nobody alighted but the grooms--there wasn't time--) "Your mother
+wouldn't wait another hour and sent me for you, and Teackle said St.
+George could go, and we bundled him up and brought him along and you are
+all going to stay a month. No, don't wait a minute, Kate; I want to get
+home before dark. One of my men will be in with the carryall and bring
+out your mammy and your clothes and whatever you want. Your father is
+away I hear, and so nobody will miss you. Get your heavy driving coat,
+my dear; I brought one of mine in for Harry--it will be cold before we
+get home. Matthew, your eyes are better than mine, get down and see what
+the devil is the matter with that horse. No, it's all right--the
+check-rein bothered him."
+
+And so ended the day that had been so happily begun, and the night was
+no less joyful with the mother's arms about her beloved boy and Kate on
+a stool beside her and Talbot and St. George deep in certain
+vintages--or perhaps certain vintages deep in Talbot and St.
+George--especially that particular and peculiar old Madeira of 1800,
+which his friend Mr. Jefferson had sent him from Monticello, and which
+was never served except to some such distinguished guest as his highly
+esteemed and well-beloved friend of many years, St. George Wilmot Temple
+of Kennedy Square.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+
+
+It would be delightful to describe the happy days at Moorlands during
+St. George's convalescence, when the love-life of Harry and Kate was one
+long, uninterrupted, joyous dream. When mother, father, and son were
+again united--what a meeting was that, once she got her arms around her
+son's neck and held him close and wept her heart out in
+thankfulness!--and the life of the old-time past was revived--a life
+softened and made restful and kept glad by the lessons all had learned.
+And it would be more delightful still to carry the record of these
+charming hours far into the summer had not St. George, eager to be under
+his own roof in Kennedy Square, declared he could stay no longer.
+
+Not that his welcome had grown less warm. He and his host had long since
+unravelled all their difficulties, the last knot having been cut the
+afternoon the colonel, urged on by Harry's mother--his disappointment
+over his sons's coldness set at rest by her pleadings--had driven into
+town for Harry in his coach, as has been said, and swept the whole
+party, including St. George, out to Moorlands.
+
+Various unrelated causes had brought about this much-to-be-desired
+result, the most important being the news of the bank's revival, which
+Harry, in his mad haste to overtake Kate, had forgotten to tell his
+uncle, and which St. George learned half an hour later from Pawson,
+together with a full account of what the colonel had done to bring about
+the happy result--a bit of information which so affected Temple that,
+when the coach with the colonel on the box had whirled up, he, weak as
+he was, had struggled to the front door, both hands held out, in
+welcome.
+
+"Talbot--old fellow," he had said with a tear in his voice, "I have
+misunderstood you and I beg your pardon. You've behaved like a man, and
+I thank you from the bottom of my heart!"
+
+At which the stern old aristocrat had replied, as he took St. George's
+two hands in his: "Let us forget all about it, St. George. I made a
+damned fool of myself. We all get too cocky sometimes."
+
+Then there had followed--the colonel listening with bated breath--St.
+George's account of Kate's confession and Harry's sudden exit, Rutter's
+face brightening as it had not done for years when he learned that Harry
+had not yet returned from the Seymours', the day's joy being capped by
+the arrival of Dr. Teackle, who had given his permission with an "All
+right--the afternoon is fine and the air will do Mr. Temple a world of
+good," and so St. George was bundled up and the reader knows the rest.
+
+Later on--at Moorlands of course--the colonel, whose eyes were getting
+better by the day and Gorsuch whose face was now one round continuous
+smile, got to work, and had a heart-to-heart--or rather a
+pocket-to-pocket talk--which was quite different in those days from what
+it would be now--after which both Kate and Harry threw to the winds all
+thoughts of Rio and the country contiguous thereto, and determined
+instead to settle down at Moorlands. And then a great big iron door sunk
+in a brick vault was swung wide and certain leather-bound books were
+brought out--and particularly a sum of money which Harry duly handed
+over to Pawson the next time he drove to town--(twice a week now)--and
+which, when recounted, balanced to a cent the total of the bills which
+Pawson had paid three years before, with interest added, a list of which
+the attorney still kept in his private drawer with certain other
+valuable papers tied with red tape, marked "St. G. W. T." And still
+later on--within a week--there had come the news of the final settlement
+of the long-disputed lawsuit with St. George as principal residuary
+legatee--and so our long-suffering hero was once more placed upon his
+financial legs: the only way he could have been placed upon them or
+would have been placed upon them--a fact very well known to every one
+who had tried to help him, his philosophy being that one dollar borrowed
+is two dollars owed--the difference being a man's self-respect.
+
+And it is truly marvellous what this change in his fortunes
+accomplished. His slack body rounded out; his sunken cheeks plumped up
+until every crease and crack were gone, his color regained its
+freshness, his eyes their brilliancy; his legs took on their old-time
+spring and lightness--and a wonderful pair of stand-bys, or stand-ups,
+or stand-arounds they were as legs go--that is legs of a man of
+fifty-five.
+
+And they were never idle, these legs: there was no sitting cross-legged
+in a chair for St. George: he was not constructed along those lines.
+Hardly a week had passed before he had them across Spitfire's mate; had
+ridden to hounds; danced a minuet with Harry and Kate; walked half-way
+to Kennedy Square and back--they thought he was going to walk all the
+way and headed him off just in time; and best of all--(and this is
+worthy of special mention)--had slipped them into the lower section of a
+suit of clothes--and these his own, although he had not yet paid for
+them--the colonel having liquidated their cost. These trousers, it is
+just as well to state, had arrived months before from Poole, along with
+a suit of Rutter's and the colonel had forwarded a draft for the whole
+amount without examining the contents, until Alec had called his
+attention to the absurd width of the legs--and the ridiculous spread of
+the seat. My Lord of Moorlands, after the scene in the Temple Mansion,
+dared not send them in to St. George, and they had accordingly lain ever
+since on top of his wardrobe with Alec as chief of the Moth Department.
+St. George, on his arrival, found them folded carefully and placed on a
+chair--Todd chief valet. Whereupon there had been a good-natured row
+when our man of fashion appeared at breakfast rigged out in all his
+finery, everybody clapping their hands and saying how handsome he looked
+--St. George in reply denouncing Talbot as a brigand of a Brummel who
+had stolen his clothes, tried to wear them, and then when out of fashion
+thrown them back on his hands.
+
+All these, and a thousand other delightful things, it would, I say, be
+eminently worth while to dilate upon--(including a series of whoops and
+hand-springs which Todd threw against the rear wall of the big kitchen
+five seconds after Alec had told him of the discomfiture of "dat
+red-haided gemman," and of Marse Harry's good fortune)--were it not that
+certain mysterious happenings are taking place inside and out of the
+Temple house in Kennedy Square--happenings exciting universal comment,
+and of such transcendent importance that the Scribe is compelled, much
+against his will--for the present installment is entirely too short--to
+confine their telling to a special chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+
+
+For some time back, then be it said, various strollers unfamiliar with
+the neighbors or the neighborhood of Kennedy Square, poor benighted folk
+who knew nothing of the events set down in the preceding chapters, had
+nodded knowingly to each other or shaken their pates deprecatingly over
+the passing of "another old landmark."
+
+Some of these had gone so far as to say that the cause could be found in
+the fact that Lawyer Temple had run through what little money his father
+and grandmother had left him; additional wise-acres were of the opinion
+that some out-of-town folks had bought the place and were trying to prop
+it up so it wouldn't tumble into the street, while one, more facetious
+than the others, had claimed that it was no wonder it was falling down,
+since the only new thing Temple had put upon it was a heavy mortgage.
+
+The immediate neighbors, however,--the friends of the house--had smiled
+and passed on. They had no such forebodings. On the contrary nothing so
+diverting--nothing so enchanting--had happened around Kennedy Square in
+years. In fact, when one of these humorists began speaking about it,
+every listener heard the story in a broad grin. Some of the more
+hilarious even nudged each other in the waist-coats and ordered another
+round of toddies--for two or three, or even five, if there were that
+number of enthusiasts about the club tables. When they were asked what
+it was all about they invariably shook their heads, winked, and kept
+still--that is, if the question were put by some one outside the magic
+circle of Kennedy Square.
+
+All the general public knew was that men with bricks in hods had been
+seen staggering up the old staircase with its spindle banisters and
+mahogany rail; that additional operatives had been discovered clinging
+to the slanting roof long enough to pass up to further experts grouped
+about the chimneys small rolls of tin and big bundles of shingles; that
+plasterers in white caps and aprons, with mortar-boards in one hand and
+trowels in the other, had been seen chinking up cracks; while any number
+of painters, carpenters, and locksmiths were working away for dear life
+all over the place from Aunt Jemima's kitchen to Todd's bunk under the
+roof.
+
+In addition to all this curious wagons had been seen to back up to the
+curb, from which had been taken various odd-looking bundles; these were
+laid on the dining-room floor, a collection of paint pots, brushes, and
+wads of putty being pushed aside to give them room--and with some haste
+too, for every one seemed to be working overtime.
+
+As to what went on inside the mansion itself not the most inquisitive
+could fathom: no one being permitted to peer even into Pawson's office,
+where so large a collection of household goods and gods were sprawled,
+heaped, and hung, that it looked as if there had been a fire in the
+neighborhood, and this room the only shelter for miles around. Even
+Pawson's law books were completely hidden by the overflow and so were
+the tables, chairs, and shelves, together with the two wide
+window-sills.
+
+Nor did it seem to matter very much to the young attorney as to how or
+at what hours of the day or night these several articles arrived. Often
+quite late in the evening--and this happened more than once--an old
+fellow, pinched and wheezy, would sneak in, uncover a mysterious object
+wrapped in a square of stringy calico, fumble in his pocket for a scrap
+of paper, put his name at the bottom of it, and sneak out again five,
+ten, or twenty dollars better off. Once, as late as eleven o'clock, a
+fattish gentleman with a hooked nose and a positive dialect, assisted
+another stout member of his race to slide a very large object from out
+the tail of a cart. Whereupon there had been an interchange of wisps of
+paper between Pawson and the fatter of the two men, the late visitors
+bowing and smiling until they reached a street lantern where they
+divided a roll of bank-notes between them.
+
+And the delight that Pawson and Gadgem took in it all!--assorting,
+verifying, checking off--slapping each other's backs in glee when some
+doubtful find was made certain, and growing even more excited on the
+days when Harry and Kate would drive or ride in from Moorlands--almost
+every day of late--tie the horse and carry-all, or both saddle-horses,
+to St. George's tree-boxes, and at once buckle on their armor.
+
+This, rendered into common prose, meant that Harry, after a prolonged
+consultation with Pawson and Gadgem, would shed his outer coat, the
+spring being now far advanced, blossoms out and the weather warm--and
+that Kate would tuck her petticoats clear of her dear little feet and go
+pattering round, her sleeves rolled up as far as they would go, her
+beautiful arms bare almost to her shoulders--her hair smothered in a
+brown barege veil to keep out the dust--the most bewitching parlor-maid
+you or anybody else ever laid eyes on. Then would follow such a carrying
+up of full baskets and carrying down of empty ones; such a spreading of
+carpets and rugs; such an arranging of china and glass; such a placing
+of andirons, fenders, shovels, tongs, and bellows; hanging of pictures,
+curtains, and mirrors--old and new; moving in of sofas, chairs, and
+rockers; making up of beds with fluted frills on the pillows--a silk
+patchwork quilt on St. George's bed and cotton counterpanes for Jemima
+and Todd!
+
+And the secrecy maintained by everybody! Pawson might have been stone
+deaf and entirely blind for all the information you could twist out of
+him--and a lot of people tried. And as to Gadgem--the dumbest oyster in
+Cherrystone Creek was a veritable magpie when it came to his giving the
+precise reason why the Temple Mansion was being restored from top to
+bottom and why all its old furniture, fittings, and trappings--
+(brand-new ones when they couldn't be found in the pawn shops or
+elsewhere)--were being gathered together within its four walls. When
+anybody asked Kate--and plenty of people did--she would throw her head
+back and laugh so loud and so merrily and so musically, that you would
+have thought all the birds in Kennedy Square park were still welcoming
+the spring. When you asked Harry he would smile and wink and perhaps
+keep on whispering to Pawson or Gadgem whose eyes were glued to a list
+which had its abiding place in Pawson's top drawer.
+
+Outside of these four conspirators--yes, six--for both Todd and Jemima
+were in it, only a very few were aware of what was really being done.
+The colonel of course knew, and so did Harry's mother--and so did old
+Alec who had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from snickering out
+loud at the breakfast table when he accidentally overheard what was
+going on--an unpardonable offence--(not the listening, but the
+laughing). In fact everybody in the big house at Moorlands knew, for
+Alec spread it broadcast in the kitchen and cabins--everybody EXCEPT
+ST. GEORGE.
+
+Not a word reached St. George--not a syllable. No one of the house
+servants would have spoiled the fun, and certainly no one of the great
+folks. It was only when his visit to Moorlands was over and he had
+driven into town and had walked up his own front steps, that the true
+situation in all its glory and brilliancy dawned upon him.
+
+The polished knobs, knocker, and the perfect level and whiteness of the
+marble steps first caught his eye; then the door swung open and Jemima
+in white apron and bandanna stood bowing to the floor, Todd straight as
+a ramrod in a new livery and a grin on his face that cut it in two, with
+Kate and Harry hidden behind them, suffocating from suppressed laughter.
+
+"Why, you dear Jemima! Howdy--... Why, who the devil sent that old
+table back, Todd, and the hall rack and--What!" Here he entered the
+dining-room. Everything was as he remembered it in the old days. "Harry!
+Kate!--Why--" then he broke down and dropped into a chair, his eyes
+still roaming around the room taking in every object, even the loving
+cup, which Mr. Kennedy had made a personal point of buying back from the
+French secretary, who was gracious enough to part with it when he
+learned the story of its enforced sale--each and every one of
+them--ready to spring forward from its place to welcome him!
+
+"So this," he stammered out--"is what you have kept me up at Moorlands
+for, is it? You never say a word to me--and--Oh, you children!--you
+children! Todd, did you ever see anything like it?--my guns--and the
+loving cup--and the clock, and--Come here you two blessed things and
+let me get my arms around you! Kiss me, Kate--and Harry, my son--give
+me your hand. No, don't say a word--don't mind me--I'm all knocked out
+and--"
+
+Down went his face in his hands and he in a heap in the chair; then he
+stiffened and gave a little shiver to his elbows in the effort to keep
+himself from going completely to pieces, and scrambled to his feet
+again, one arm around Kate's neck, his free hand in Harry's.
+
+Take me everywhere and show me everything. Todd, go and find Mr. Pawson
+and see if Mr. Gadgem is anywhere around; they've had something to do
+with this--" here his eyes took in Todd--"You damned scoundrel, who the
+devil rigged you out in that new suit?"
+
+"Marse Harry done sont me to de tailor. See dem buttons?--but dey ain't
+nuthin' to what's on the top shelf--you'll bust yo'self wide open
+a-laughin', Marse George, when ye sees what's in dar--you gotter come
+wid me--please Mistis an' Marse Harry, you come too. Dis way--"
+
+Todd was full to bursting. Had his grin been half an inch wider his ears
+would have dropped off.
+
+"An' fore ye look at dem shelves der's annuder thing I gotter tell
+ye;--an' dat is dat the dogs--all fo' oh em is comin' in the mawnin'.
+Mister Floyd's coach-man done tole me so," and with a jerk and a whoop,
+completely ignoring his master's exclamation of joy over the return of
+his beloved setters, the darky threw back the door of the little
+cubby-hole of a room where the Black Warrior and his brethren had once
+rested in peace, and pointed to a row of erect black bottles backed by
+another of recumbent ones.
+
+"Look at dat wine, will ye, Marse George," he shouted, "all racked up on
+dern shelves? Dat come f'om Mister Talbot Rutter wid dis yere cyard--"
+and he handed it out.
+
+St. George reached over, took it from his hand, and read it aloud:
+
+"With the compliments of an old friend, who sends you herewith a few
+bottles of the Jefferson and some Sercial and old Port--and a basket or
+two of Royal Brown Sherry--nothing like your own, but the best he could
+scare up."
+
+Soon the newly polished and replated knocker began to get in its
+liveliest work: "Mrs. Richard Horn's compliments, and would St. George
+be pleased to accept a basket of Maryland biscuit and a sallylunn just
+out of the oven." Mrs. Bowdoin's compliments with three brace of
+ducks--"a little late in the season, my dear St. George, but they are
+just up from Currytuck where Mr. Bowdoin has had extremely good luck
+--for Mr. Bowdoin." "Mrs. Cheston's congratulations, and would Mr.
+Temple do her the honor of placing on his sideboard an old Accomack
+County ham which her cook had baked that morning and which should have
+all the charm and flavor of the State which had given him birth--" and
+last a huge basket of spring roses from Miss Virginia Clendenning,
+accompanied by a card bearing the inscription--"You don't deserve them,
+you renegade," and signed--"Your deserted and heart-broken sweetheart."
+All of which were duly spread out on the sideboard, together with one
+lone bottle to which was attached an envelope.
+
+Before the day was over half the club had called--Richard acting master
+of ceremonies--Kate and old Prim--(he seemed perfectly contented with
+the way everything had turned out)--doing the honors with St. George.
+Pawson had also put in an appearance and been publicly thanked--a mark
+of St. George's confidence and esteem which doubled his practice before
+the year was out, and Gadgem--
+
+No, Gadgem did not put in an appearance. Gadgem got as far as the hall
+and looked in, and, seeing all the great people thronging about St.
+George, would have sneaked out again to await some more favorable
+occasion had not Harry's sharp eyes discovered the top of his scraggly
+head over the shoulders of some others, and darted towards him, and when
+he couldn't be made to budge, had beckoned to St. George, who came on a
+run and shook Gadgem's hand so heartily and thanked him in so loud a
+voice--(everybody in the hall heard him)--that he could only sputter--
+"Didn't do a thing, sir--no, sir--and if I--" and then, overwhelmed,
+shot out of the door and down the steps and into Pawson's office where
+he stood panting, saying to himself--"I'll be tuckered if I ain't
+happier than I--yes--by Jingo, I am. JIMminy-CRIMminy what a man he is!"
+
+And so the day passed and the night came and the neighbors took their
+leave, and Harry escorted Kate back to Seymours' and the tired knocker
+gave out and fell asleep, and at last Todd said good-night and stole
+down to Jemima, and St. George found himself once more in his easy
+chair, his head in his hand, his eyes fixed on the dead coals of a past
+fire.
+
+As the echo of Todd's steps faded away and he began to realize that he
+was alone, there crept over him for the first time in years the
+comforting sense that he was once more under his own roof--his again and
+all that it covered--all that he loved; even his beloved dogs. He left
+his chair and with a quick indrawing of his breath, as if he had just
+sniffed the air from some open sea, stretched himself to his full
+height. There he stood looking about him, his shapely fingers patting
+his chest; his eyes wandering over the room, first with a sweeping
+glance, and then resting on each separate object as it nodded to him
+under the glow of the candles.
+
+He had come into his possessions once more. Not that the very belongings
+made so much difference as his sense of pride in their ownership. They
+had, too, in a certain way regained for him his freedom--freedom to go
+and come and do as he pleased untrammelled by makeshifts and humiliating
+exposures and concealments. Best of all, they had given him back his
+courage, bracing the inner man, strengthening his beliefs in his
+traditions and in the things that his race and blood stood for.
+
+Then as a flash of lightning reveals from out black darkness the
+recurrent waves of a troubled sea, there rushed over him the roll and
+surge of the events which had led up to his rehabilitation. Suddenly a
+feeling of intense humiliation and profound gratitude swept through him.
+He raised his arms, covered his face with his hands, and stood swaying;
+forcing back his tears; muttering to himself: "How good they have
+been--how good, how good! All mine once more--wonderful--wonderful!"
+With a resolute bracing of his shoulders and a brave lift of his chin,
+he began a tour of the room, stopping before each one of his beloved
+heirlooms and treasures--his precious gun that Gadgem had given up--(the
+collector coveted it badly as a souvenir, and got it the next day from
+St. George, with his compliments)--the famous silver loving cup with an
+extra polish Kirk had given it; his punch bowl--scarf rings and
+knick-knacks and the furniture and hangings of various kinds. At last he
+reached the sideboard, and bending over reread the several cards affixed
+to the different donations--Mrs. Cheston's, Mrs. Horn's, Miss
+Clendenning's, and the others. His eye now fell on the lone bottle--this
+he had not heretofore noticed--and the note bearing Mr. Kennedy's
+signature. "I send you back, St. George, that last bottle of old
+Madeira, the Black Warrior of 1810--the one you gave me and which we
+were to share together. I hadn't the heart to drink my half without you
+and so here is the whole and my warmest congratulations on your
+home-coming and long life to you!"
+
+Picking up the quaint bottle, he passed his hand tenderly over its
+crusted surface, paused for an instant to examine the cork, and held it
+closer to the light that he might note its condition. There he stood
+musing, his mind far away, his fingers caressing its sides. All the
+aroma of the past; all the splendor of the old regime--all its
+good-fellowship, hospitality, and courtesy--that which his soul
+loved--lay imprisoned under his hand. Suddenly one of his old-time
+quizzical smiles irradiated his face: "By Jove!--just the thing!" he
+cried joyously, "it will take the place of the one Talbot didn't open!"
+
+With a mighty jerk of the bell cord he awoke the echoes below stairs.
+
+Todd came on the double quick:
+
+"Todd."
+
+"Yes, Marse George."
+
+"Todd, here's the last bottle of the 1810. Lay it flat on the top shelf
+with the cork next the wall. We'll open it at Mr. Harry's wedding."
+
+[THE END]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of Kennedy Square, by F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT KENNEDY SQUARE ***
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+This file should be named kndsq10.txt or kndsq10.zip
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