Add files from ibiblio as of 2025-03-03 15:45:04HEAD main

author: nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> 2025-03-03 15:45:04 -0800
committer: nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> 2025-03-03 15:45:04 -0800
commit: 5b5d6764841726f3ee61a4e545bfcb1216d89c58 (patch)
tree: 79aa9b212b4c721a268db0c947e6eda7c75d092c /48337-h/48337-h.html
parent: a2692277a52837823455bc86df5ccf72bf260294 (diff)
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-<title>HER LORD AND MASTER</title>
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-<div class="document" id="her-lord-and-master">
-<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">HER LORD AND MASTER</span></h1>
-
-<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet -->
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-<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- -->
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-<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- -->
-<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
-<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
-and most other parts of the world 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 </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> included with
-this ebook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws
-of the country where you are located before using this ebook.</span></p>
-<p class="noindent pnext"></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
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-<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Her Lord and Master
-<br />
-<br />Author: Martha Morton
-<br />
-<br />Release Date: February 21, 2015 [EBook #48337]
-<br />
-<br />Language: English
-<br />
-<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p>
-</div>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>HER LORD AND MASTER</span><span> ***</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p>
-</div>
-<div class="align-None container frontispiece">
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="you-locked-me-out-she-said-hysterically"><span class="bold medium">[Frontispiece: "You locked me out!" she said, hysterically.
-<br />(missing from book)]</span></p>
-</div>
-<div class="align-None container titlepage">
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><em class="bold italics xx-large">HER LORD
-<br />AND MASTER</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics large">By MARTHA MORTON</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics small">Illustrated by</em></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="italics medium">HOWARD CHANDLER CHRISTY
-<br />and ESTHER MAC NAMARA</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">R. F. FENNO &amp; COMPANY
-<br />18 East Seventeenth Street, NEW YORK</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="align-None container verso">
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">Copyright, 1902
-<br />By
-<br />ANTHONY J. DREXEL BIDDLE</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">Entered at Stationers' Hall, London</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">All Rights Reserved</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Contents</span></p>
-<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">CHAPTER</span></p>
-<p class="noindent pnext"><span>I.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-reunion">A Reunion</a><span>
-<br />II.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#birds-of-passage">Birds of Passage</a><span>
-<br />III.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#on-a-model-farm">On a Model Farm</a><span>
-<br />IV.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#springtime">Springtime</a><span>
-<br />V.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#camp-indiana">Camp Indiana</a><span>
-<br />VI.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#guests">Guests</a><span>
-<br />VII.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-weaver">The Weaver</a><span>
-<br />VIII.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-world-s-rest">The World's Rest</a><span>
-<br />IX.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#in-an-orchard-of-the-memory">In an Orchard of the Memory</a><span>
-<br />X.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#the-might-of-the-falls">The Might of the Falls</a><span>
-<br />XI.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#a-moonlight-picnic">A Moonlight Picnic</a><span>
-<br />XII.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#leading-to-the-altar">Leading to the Altar</a><span>
-<br />XIII.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#england">England</a><span>
-<br />XIV.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#transplantation">Transplantation</a><span>
-<br />XV.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#i-shall-keep-my-promise">"I Shall Keep My Promise"</a><span>
-<br />XVI.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#an-escapade">An Escapade</a><span>
-<br />XVII.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#late-visitors">Late Visitors</a><span>
-<br />XVIII.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#awakening">Awakening</a><span>
-<br />XIX.—</span><a class="reference internal" href="#and-as-he-wove-he-heard-singing">"And as He Wove, He Heard Singing"</a></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Illustrations</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#you-locked-me-out-she-said-hysterically">"You locked me out!" she said, hysterically.</a><span>  </span><em class="italics">Frontispiece</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-d-call-the-picture-indiana">"I'd call the picture, 'Indiana.'"</a></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#catching-pollywogs">Catching Pollywogs</a></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#iiwhat-have-i-said-i-didn-t-mean-it">"I—I—what have I said?  I didn't mean it."</a></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#i-will-have-love-to-help-me">"I will have love to help me."</a></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Foreword</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Her Lord and Master," by Martha Morton,
-was first produced in New York, during the
-Spring of 1902.  The play met with great success,
-and ran for over one hundred nights at the
-Manhattan Theatre.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Victoria Morton, the sister of the
-playwright, now presents "Her Lord and Master"
-as a novel.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The play is being produced in the principal
-cities during this season.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-reunion"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A Reunion.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Did the ladies arrive, Mr. Stillwater?"
-inquired the clerk at
-the Waldorf Hotel, New York, as a tall,
-broad-shouldered man, unmistakably
-Western in appearance, walked
-smilingly up to the desk.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Bag and baggage, bless their hearts!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A dark, distinguished looking man,
-who was looking over the register,
-glanced at the speaker, then moved
-slightly to one side as the latter took up
-the pen.  Stillwater registered in a
-quick, bold hand, and walked away.
-The dark gentleman turned again to
-the register and read:</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Horatio Stillwater, Stillwater, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Horatio Stillwater, Stillwater!" he
-remarked to the clerk with a cultured
-English accent.  "A coincidence, I
-presume?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all," answered the clerk
-laughing.  "That often happens out
-West.  You see, Stillwater founded the
-town.  He owned most of the land,
-besides the largest interests in wheat and
-oil.  It's a great wheat and oil centre.
-Naturally the town is named after him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Naturally," acquiesced the Englishman,
-staring blankly at the clerk.  He
-lit a cigar and puffed it thoughtfully for
-about five minutes, then he exclaimed,
-"Extraordinary!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Beg pardon?" said the clerk.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I find it most extraordinary."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you referring to, Lord
-Canning?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I was referring to what you were
-telling me about this gentleman, of
-course!"  Lord Canning pointed to
-Stillwater on the register.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" laughed the clerk, amused
-that the facts he had given were still a
-matter for reflection.  "Yes, he's one
-of our biggest capitalists out West.  The
-family are generally here at this time of
-the year.  The ladies have just arrived
-from Palm Beach."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Palm Beach?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's south, you know."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, a winter resort?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning recommenced his study
-of the register.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Horatio Stillwater," he read.
-"Stillwater, Indiana.  Miss Indiana
-Stillwater."  He reflected a moment.
-"Miss Indiana Stillwater, Stillwater,
-Indiana.  Here too, is a similarity of
-names.  Probably a coincidence and
-probably not."  He read on,
-"Mrs. Chazy Bunker, Stillwater, Indiana.
-Bunker, Bunker!"  He pressed his
-hand to his forehead.  "Oh, Bunker
-Hill," he thought, with sudden inspiration.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Indiana Stillwater, Stillwater,
-Indiana.  If the town was named after
-the father, why should not the State—no,
-that could not be.  But the reverse
-might be possible."  He addressed the
-clerk.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you mind telling me—oh, I
-beg your pardon," seeing that the clerk
-was very much occupied at that moment—"It
-doesn't matter—some other time."  He
-turned and lounged easily against
-the desk, surveying the people walking
-about, with the intentness of a person
-new to his surroundings, and still
-pondering the question.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>*      *      *      *      *</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Now," said Stillwater, after his
-family had been duly installed, "let me
-look at you.  I'm mighty glad to see
-you all again."  He swung his daughter
-Indiana up in his arms and kissed her,
-then set her on his knee and looked at
-her with open admiration.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Horatio Stillwater had never seen
-any reason why he should be ashamed
-of his great pride in his only child.
-Indiana herself had often been heard to
-remark, "Pa has never really recovered
-from the shock of my birth.  It was a
-case of too much joy.  He thinks I'm
-the greatest thing on record."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, folks," he said, "I expect
-you're all dead tired."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not I," said Mrs. Bunker, his
-mother-in-law.  She was a well-formed
-woman, with dark, vivacious eyes and a
-crown of white hair dressed in the latest
-mode.  "I could take the trip all over
-again."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you miss us, father?" asked
-Mrs. Stillwater, a gentle-looking, pretty
-woman, with soft, brown hair and dark
-blue eyes like her child's, only Indiana's
-were more alert and restless.  "Ma has
-lovely eyes," Indiana was in the habit
-of remarking.  "She takes them from me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Stillwater put Indiana off his
-knees and sat by his wife.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did I miss you?  Not a little bit."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your color's pretty bad, father," she
-said, "and you look dead tired.
-Perhaps," she rose impulsively, "perhaps
-you've been laid up."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, ma, no," he placed his big
-hands on her shoulders, forcing her
-down in her chair.  "I haven't been
-laid up.  But I've been feeling mighty queer."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He was immediately overwhelmed by
-a torrent of exclamations and questions
-from Mrs. Bunker and Indiana, while
-his wife sat pale and quiet, with heaving breast.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't know what's the matter
-with me," he answered.  "No, I can't
-describe how I feel.  No, I have not
-been to a doctor, and I'm not going.
-There, you have it straight.  I don't
-believe in them."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Pa!" said Indiana, taking a stand in
-the centre of the room, "I want to say
-a few words to you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Lord!" thought Stillwater,
-"When Indiana shakes her pompadour
-and folds her arms, there's no telling
-where she'll end."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to ask you if the sentiments
-which you have just expressed are
-befitting ones for a man with a family?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother," said Mrs. Stillwater, "he
-always takes your advice, tell him he
-should consult a doctor."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana has the floor!" said Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it right that you should make it
-necessary for me to remind you of a
-common duty; that of paying proper
-attention to your health, in order that
-we should have peace of mind?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana had been chosen to deliver
-the valedictory at the closing exercises
-at her school.  This gave her a reputation
-for eloquence which she liked to sustain
-whenever an occasion presented itself.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I see your finish," she wound up,
-not as elegantly as one might have
-expected.  "You'll be a hopeless wreck
-and we'll all have insomnia from lying
-awake nights, worrying.  When we once
-get in that state—" she turned to Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No cure," said the lady.  "Nothing
-but time."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater sat with his hand in his
-pocket and his eyes closed, apparently
-thinking deeply.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I've said all I'm going to say."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him expectantly.  His
-eyes remained closed, however, and he
-breathed deeply and regularly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have finished, pa.  Have you any
-remarks to make?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>No answer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He's asleep, Indiana," said
-Mrs. Bunker, with a peal of laughter.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He is not," said Indiana indignantly.
-"He's only making believe—"  She
-bent down and looked in his face.
-"You're not asleep, are you, pa?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, of course not; who said I was?"  He
-sat up rubbing his eyes.  "Did you
-get it all off your mind, Indy?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You heard what I said, pa?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly; it was fine.  You must
-write it down for me some day, Indy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you close your ears and eyes
-to the still, small voice," said Indiana,
-jumping upon a chair and declaiming in
-approved pulpit fashion.  "The voice
-which says, 'Go not in the by-ways.
-There are snares and quick-sands.
-Follow in the open road, the path of truth
-and righteousness.'  I want to know if
-you're going to a doctor?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I suppose I must, if I want
-some peace in life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No ordinary doctor, you must
-consult a specialist."  She looked around
-triumphantly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Her mother smiled on her in loving
-approval.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A specialist for what, Indy?" Stillwater
-asked drily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana met his eyes bent enquiringly
-upon her, then burst into laughter.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you've phazed me this time,"
-she said.  Then she installed herself on
-his knee.  "Oh, I don't mean a specialist
-at all.  I mean a consulting physician—an
-authority."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now you're talking," answered Stillwater,
-with a beaming smile.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana jumped off his knee.  "An
-ordinary doctor isn't good enough for
-my father!"  She gave a very good
-imitation of a cowboy's swagger.  "I'm
-hungry, pa."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, where are you going to have lunch?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like mine brought up," said
-Mrs. Stillwater.  "Are the trunks
-unlocked, Kitty?" as a young,
-bright-looking girl appeared at the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes ma'am.  Come right in and I'll
-make you comfortable."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll have my lunch up here with
-ma," said Mr. Stillwater.  "What's the
-rest of you going to do?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, we'll go down and hear the
-band play," said Mrs. Bunker with
-exuberant spirits.  "Come along, Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater was one of the men who had
-risen rapidly in the West.  He had
-married at a boyish age, a very young,
-gentle girl, and had emigrated from the
-East soon after marriage, with his wife
-and her mother, Mrs. Chazy Bunker.
-He built a house on government land in
-Indiana.  The first seven years meant
-hard and incessant toil, but in that time
-he and the two women saw some very
-happy days.  His marriage had been a
-boy and girl affair, dating from the
-village school.  One of those lucky unions,
-built neither upon calculation or
-judgment, which terminate happily for all
-concerned.  Stillwater was only aware
-that the eyes of Mary Bunker were blue
-and sweet as the wild violets that he
-picked and presented to her, and that
-she never spelt above him.  His manliness
-won her respect, and his gentleness
-her love.  Their immature natures thus
-thoughtlessly and happily united, like a
-pair of birds at nesting time, grew
-together as the years went on until they
-became one.  After seven years of
-unremitting work, Stillwater could stand
-and look proudly as far as the eye could
-reach, on acre after acre of golden
-wheat tossing blithely in the breeze.
-He had been helped to this result by
-the women who had lived with the
-greatest economy and thrift putting
-everything into the land.  His young
-and inexperienced wife acted under the
-direction of her mother, a splendid
-manager and a woman of great shrewdness
-and sense.  He could look, also, on
-the low, red-painted house, which could
-boast now of many additions, and realize
-that his marriage had been a success.
-In that low red house Indiana first saw
-the light, and, simultaneously, oil was
-struck on the land.  The child became
-the prospective heiress of millions.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The birth of a daughter opened the
-source of the deepest joy Stillwater had
-ever known.  When Mrs. Bunker laid
-the infant swathed in new flannels in his
-arms, he was assailed by indescribable
-feelings, altogether new to him.  She
-watched him curiously as he held the
-tiny bundle with the greatest timidity
-in his big brawny hands.  Feeling her
-bright eyes on his face he flushed with
-embarrassment.  Mrs. Bunker pushed
-back the flannel and showed him a wee
-fist, like a crumpled roseleaf, which she
-opened by force, clasping it again around
-Stillwater's finger.  As he felt that tiny
-and helpless clasp tears welled into his
-honest brown eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There isn't anything she shan't
-have," he said.  And these words held
-good through all the years that Indiana
-lived under his roof.  In a spirit of
-patriotism, Stillwater named his daughter
-Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She was born right here in Indiana,"
-he declared.  "She's a prairie flower,
-so we named her after the State."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The birth of a daughter appealed to
-Stillwater as a most beautiful and
-wonderful thing.  It awakened all the latent
-chivalry and tenderness of his character.
-As he remarked to his friend Masters,
-"A girl kinder brings out the soft spots
-in man's nature."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This feeling is a foreign one to the
-European who always longs for a son
-to perpetuate his name and possessions,
-and after all it is a natural egotism when
-there is a long and honorable line of
-ancestry, but in all ranks and conditions
-the cry is the same, "A son, oh Lord,
-give me a son!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>After the boom which followed the
-discovery of oil-gushers on the land, and
-Stillwater looked steadily in the face,
-with that level head which no amount
-of success could turn, the enormous
-prospects of the future, he thought,  "It's
-just come in time for Indiana."  His
-imagination pictured another Mary
-Bunker, another soft and clinging
-creature to nestle against his heart, another
-image of his wife to wind her arms
-about his neck and look up into his face
-with trusting love.  Instead, he had a
-little whirlwind of a creature, a
-combination of tempests and sunshine, with
-eyes like the skies of Indiana, and hair
-the color of the ripe wheat, upon which
-his wife used to gaze as she sat on her
-porch sewing little garments, nothing
-as far as the eyes could strain but that
-harmony of golden color, joining the
-blue of the sky at the rim of the horizon.
-The peace and happiness of the Stillwater
-household fluctuated according to
-the moods of Indiana.  These conditions
-commenced when she was a child, and
-grew as she developed.  The family
-regarded her storms as inevitable, and
-nothing could be more beautiful than
-her serenity when they passed, nothing
-could equal the tenderness of her love
-for them all.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater, under high pressure from
-his family, went to consult a noted New
-York medical authority; a gaunt,
-spare-looking man, who, after the usual
-preliminaries, leaned back in his chair and
-regarded Stillwater fixedly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your liver's torpid, your digestion
-is all wrong, and you are on the verge
-of a nervous collapse."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, doctor, what do you advise?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Complete change."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, don't send me too far.  I have
-big interests on hand just now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Cessation of all business."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't know how I can manage that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Get on a sailing vessel.  Stay on it
-for three months."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should die for want of an interest in life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Take my advice in time, Mr. Stillwater.
-It will save future trouble."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder how Indiana would like a
-sailing trip," thought Stillwater.  "If
-the folks were along I guess we'd
-manage to whoop it up, all right.  Well, I'll
-think it over, Doctor.  Of course, I
-couldn't do anything without consulting the ladies."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater smiled in a confidential way,
-as much as to say, "You know how it is
-yourself."  The noted authority answered
-by a look of contemptuous pity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"See you again, Doctor."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As he arrived at the hotel he was
-hailed by Indiana, driving up in a hansom.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Been to see the doctor?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; I've got lots to tell."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jump in and we'll drive around the
-park.  The others won't be home yet."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater made a feint of hesitating.
-"Perhaps I'd better wait till we're all
-together."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you can jump in anyway, and
-come for a drive," said Indiana.  "I'll
-give him five minutes," she thought,
-"before he tells me all he knows."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The air will do me a whole lot of
-good," remarked Stillwater, acting on
-her advice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was a clear cold day, in the latter
-part of February, and the wind blew
-keenly in their faces as they bowled
-leisurely up Fifth Avenue.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Say, Indiana," after three minutes
-perusal of the promenaders.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, pa—it's coming," she thought.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How would you like to go on a
-sailing trip for three months; the whole
-kit and crew of us?  We'd have
-everything our own way; I'd see to that.
-We'd run the whole show.  On the
-water for three months.  What do you
-think of it—eh?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Bully!" shouted Indiana, throwing
-her muff up in the air, and catching it
-deftly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought you'd like it," said
-Stillwater, chuckling.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What did the doctor say, pa?" said
-Indiana breathlessly.  "What did he
-say was the matter with you?  Tell
-me—you must tell me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Indiana, give me a chance.
-I'm going to tell you.  Didn't I start to
-give away the whole snap?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But you're taking such a long time,
-pa," she said, tapping the floor of the
-hansom nervously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, when it comes down to it,
-there isn't much the matter with me,"
-answered Stillwater reassuringly.  "He
-said something about a torpid liver."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Torpid liver!" echoed Indiana,
-looking as if she were just brought face
-to face with the great calamity of her life.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, that's what I was afraid of,"
-said Stillwater.  "Please don't go on
-like that before your ma, Indiana.  It's
-not serious."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No?" echoed Indiana helplessly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, it's nothing at all," Stillwater
-laughed hilariously.  "Torpid livers—people
-have them every day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what else?" said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, lots," answered Stillwater
-confidentially.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me this minute; I must know.
-Don't you try and keep anything from
-me, pa."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, will you give me a chance?
-Sit down!  You'll be out of this hansom
-in a minute.  Something about digestion.
-</span><em class="italics">That</em><span> don't amount to </span><em class="italics">anything</em><span>."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana sank back with a sigh of relief.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And something about nerves—says
-I must throw up business, that's all it
-amounts to, for a few months."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you'll be cured?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Positively."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you shall, pop—you shall; do
-you hear me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Indiana, what's the use of
-your taking the reins and whipping up
-like that?  I've told you what I reckon
-to do.  Didn't I broach the subject of a
-sailing trip?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ma and I are good sailors,"
-remarked Indiana meditatively, "but
-Grandma Chazy don't like the water."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, we'll jolly her along her all
-right," said Stillwater easily.  "Say,
-Indiana," he put his mouth to her ear,
-"Grandma Chazy wouldn't miss a
-trick."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana laughed loudly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, this is what I call a wild and
-exciting time, Indiana.  If you took me
-on many of these drives I think I'd get
-rid of that 'slight nervous derangement'
-the doctor was talking about.  Sort of a
-rest-cure—eh?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, if I could only get on that
-horse's back!" cried Indiana, "I'd
-make him go."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not that horse, Indiana," said
-Stillwater chuckling.  "All the sporting
-spirit in you wouldn't make </span><em class="italics">that</em><span> horse
-go.  Suppose we think about getting
-home?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Back to the hotel," he shouted to
-the driver.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't help thinking of Circus,"
-said Indiana sentimentally.  "I wonder
-if he misses me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You think more of that horse than
-all your beaux, don't you, Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana nodded and smiled.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll have my hands full for a few
-weeks before I go on that sailing trip.
-I don't know how I'm going to manage it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you just </span><em class="italics">must</em><span>!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Suppose we don't say anything to
-the others till I make sure I can go.  I've
-got some big things on now, Indiana—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't go after you've worked
-me all up about it—you'll keep on
-grinding until you're past curing, until
-one day you'll just drop down and die.
-What do you care—and ma and Grandma
-Chazy and—and I'll be left with no one
-to look after us."  She buried her face
-in her  muff, making piteous little gulps.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm a fool," thought Stillwater, patting
-her on the back.  "The idea of
-that little thing takin' it so to heart.  I
-didn't think she was old enough to
-realize things like that.  None of us
-know how much there is in Indiana."  His
-heart swelled with gratitude at this
-proof of devotion from his only child.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Indiana, don't lose your grip
-like this.  I'm going, I tell you.  I'm
-going on this trip.  There isn't anything
-on earth that'll stop me.  Hi!  Driver!
-Just run through and stop at Thorley's!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As the hansom dashed up to Thorley's
-Indiana gave a clear jump to the curb,
-disdaining the hand her father held out.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"American beauties!" said Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The salesman showed them a gorgeous
-long-stemmed cluster.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the ticket," said Stillwater.
-"My, they're fresh, Indiana."  She
-selected one and fastened it in her furs.
-"I'll carry the rest for you.  Now what
-would the others like?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana flitted about selecting flowers.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you like them sent?" inquired the salesman.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Indiana, "we'll take them
-right along."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why," exclaimed Stillwater as they
-were leaving the store, "I was just about
-forgetting you were all going to the
-opera to-night.  Now, what flowers do
-you want to wear, Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, my dress is white.  Hyacinths,
-white hyacinths.  Corsage bouquet, Miss
-Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And ma, she likes the sweet-smelling ones."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, violets for ma.  Violets,
-Mrs. Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall we say violets for Grandma Chazy?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think Grandma Chazy would like
-something brighter," said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Carnations?" suggested the salesman.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Indiana.  "Pink
-carnations, Mrs. Chazy Bunker.  Send to
-the Waldorf Hotel for this evening.
-Don't make any mistake, please!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Duplicate the order to-morrow, same
-time," added Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana hummed gaily to herself as
-they drove off with their flowers.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's forgotten all about it now,"
-thought Stillwater, with a satisfied glance
-at her happy face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning noticed them when they
-entered the hotel.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He was standing in the lobby through
-which they passed, lighting a cigar
-preparatory to going out.  He recognized
-Stillwater immediately, and stared
-curiously at Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose that is the daughter,"
-he thought, "Indiana."  He smiled as
-he puffed his cigar.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="birds-of-passage"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Birds of Passage.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Anything, if it's for your
-good," said Mrs. Stillwater,
-when the subject of the sailing trip was
-broached.  "Father, this is the finest
-mignonette I've ever seen."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I suppose I'll be sick," added
-Mrs. Bunker dolefully, as she helped
-her daughter arrange the flowers, "but
-I'll get used to the motion.  As long as
-we get somewhere sometime, and see
-something that's worth seeing.  Isn't
-that vase a picture?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you must leave that to me,
-Grandma Chazy.  What's the matter
-with Japan?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was a chorus of delight.  Indiana
-jumped wildly up and down the room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll run in and see the old man
-to-morrow morning.  He'll be glad to
-hear I'm going to act on his advice.  I
-told him I couldn't pledge myself to do
-anything until I had first consulted the
-ladies."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I guess," said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's have lunch; then I must get
-right down town.  You won't see me
-till dinner."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Their faces fell.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What are we going to do with
-ourselves?" said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Go shopping."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This seemed to be a happy idea, and
-Stillwater congratulating himself that he
-had suggested an entertainment which
-appealed to them, kissed his wife,
-remarking, "Now, don't you go and tire
-yourself, mother.  You can't travel with
-these other young things."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When Stillwater, the following
-morning, confided to the noted medical
-authority that he intended to take his
-whole family on a sailing voyage to
-Japan, adding the clause, "We're going
-to have a real good time," he sank back
-in his chair, and regarded Stillwater with
-an expression of patient endurance.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought I had impressed on you,
-Mr. Stillwater, the necessity of absolute
-rest and quiet.  </span><em class="italics">Rest</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">quiet</em><span>; do you
-understand me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Perfectly!  Perfectly!  That's what
-I'm laying my plans for.  Three months
-on a sailing vessel—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">With your entire family</em><span>, which includes—?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My wife, my daughter, and my
-mother-in-law."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A wife, a daughter, and a mother-in-law.
-None of them deaf or dumb, I
-presume?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha!  Now you needn't be
-afraid I shan't have cheerful company.
-They'll make things hum, I tell you!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't doubt it for a  minute.
-Mr. Stillwater, I strongly advise this trip
-without your family.  With your family
-I am as strongly against it.  To be
-confined for three months on a sailing vessel
-with a wife, a daughter, and a mother-in-law,
-would be enough to derange any
-man's nerves, allowing he is perfectly
-normal when he starts.  Now, the
-consequences in your condition—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, doctor, you're not sure of
-your ground.  You don't know my
-family.  They're devoted to me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," said the Noted Authority,
-smiling blandly.  "That is the trouble."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Say now.  They're not going to do me any harm."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Intentionally, I hope not."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course they have their little
-squabbles, but I can manage them all right."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We might effect a compromise.
-How old is your daughter?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Eighteen.  A perfect child.  We can
-do whatever we like with her."  Stillwater
-smiled involuntarily as he uttered
-this unblushing falsehood, thinking "I
-mean she can do whatever she likes with
-us.  My words got twisted, that's all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, suppose we leave your
-mother-in-law behind, and take your wife and
-daughter.  The latter, I gather, is
-tractable and easily managed."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave my mother-in-law behind!
-Oh, I couldn't do that.  She's making a
-great sacrifice for my sake.  She's awful
-seasick but I promised her a good time,
-once we get to Japan, and I mean to
-keep my word."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The Noted Authority sighed.  "You're
-quite decided on that point?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite.  Couldn't leave </span><em class="italics">her</em><span> behind.
-Wouldn't hurt her feelings for the world."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no more to be said, Mr. Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The sailing trip's off, then?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Except you resolve to go alone.  In
-case of nervous derangement I always
-advise separation.  No family."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, I couldn't presume to
-argue with you, Doctor.  But I'll talk it
-over with the ladies.  They'll never
-allow me to go alone, though, I'm quite
-sure of it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is there any necessity to precipitate
-matters so far?" said the Noted
-Authority.  "Would it not be easier to
-announce at once quietly and firmly
-your intention to go, avoiding all
-preliminary discussion?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you don't know my family;
-they would not allow that sort of thing.
-Doctor, are you married?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been a widower for some years."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That explains—you've forgotten how
-it is.  You see, my family are a very
-touchy lot—but I know just how to
-handle them.  We get along swimmingly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"As these domestic conditions seem
-inevitable, further discussions seem
-useless.  </span><em class="italics">Talk it over with the ladies</em><span>.
-Perhaps with the assistance of your wife,
-your daughter and your mother-in-law
-you may arrive at some decision which
-will be agreeable to all concerned."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly!  Certainly!  I'll do as you
-say—we'll talk it over and we'll hit on
-something between the lot of us.  See
-you again, Doctor.  Good-by."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He's pretty far gone already, I fear,"
-thought the Noted Authority after
-Stillwater had departed.  "Absolutely afraid
-to act on his own responsibility."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you think?" cried Stillwater,
-bursting in on his family about
-dinner hour.  "He won't allow you to
-go with me on that sailing trip.  He says
-I must go alone."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, pa, you go right back and tell
-him that we wouldn't think of allowing
-you to do anything of the kind."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"His office hours are over now, Indiana,"
-said Stillwater, smiling placidly.
-"Will to-morrow morning do?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, father, it would just break my
-heart to see you going off alone and
-sick, too."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not to be thought of for a minute,"
-said Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I told him you wouldn't hear of
-it."  Stillwater leaned back in his chair,
-watching with evident enjoyment the
-effect of his words.  "He said that to
-confine a perfectly normal person on a
-sailing vessel for three months with his
-wife, his daughter, and his mother-in-law,
-would make him a nervous wreck for life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he say that, pa?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Practically, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Brute," said Mrs. Bunker.  "If he
-once had the privilege of making my
-acquaintance he might change his views
-on the matter."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He might fall all over himself to
-become one of the sailing party
-himself then," remarked Stillwater
-chuckling.  "Well, he said I should talk it
-over with the ladies."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a wonder he gave us that much
-consideration," said Indiana loftily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I reckon he thought he was humoring
-me.  I guess he thinks I'm a gone
-case."  Stillwater slapped his knee.
-"Well, I've been doing some tall
-thinking on my own account and it's come to
-this."  He rose and looked at his wife.
-"In the old days when I was coaxing
-the ground, I never had these feelings, mother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going back to nature.  I'm
-going to buy a farm.  I know just where
-to lay my hands on one in Indiana.
-Spring is coming.  I'm going to live on
-it and work on it, till I'm a new man
-again."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I second that motion," said Mrs. Bunker,
-bringing her hand down on the table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And I," cried Indiana.  "We'll all
-go farming."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, mother, you're not saying a word."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She smiled up at him.  Her eyes
-were full of tears.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It—it will be like the old days," she said.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Here are the hats!" cried Indiana,
-as Kitty, the maid, entered staggering
-under the weight of a number of boxes.
-They all became immediately interested
-in the absorbing question of spring
-headgear.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you like this?" inquired
-Mrs. Bunker, perching a black net
-concoction on her carefully dressed head.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very becoming!" answered Indiana,
-after a critical inspection.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Suits you fine, grandma!" said
-Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Shows what you all know!"
-remarked Mrs. Bunker, looking in the
-glass.  "It's entirely too old for me."  She
-placed it on her daughter's smooth
-brown coils.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" cried Stillwater admiringly.
-His wife, sitting under inspection,
-looked inquiringly at Indiana.  A
-mirror held no significance for Mrs. Stillwater.
-She was always supremely satisfied
-with whatever her family approved
-of, for her, in the way of personal adornment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll take that hat for ma," said
-Indiana.  "It's all right."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Mary can afford to wear it,"
-said Mrs. Bunker.  "I'm not young
-enough for a hat like that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ladies," exclaimed Mr. Stillwater,
-looking at his watch.  "This is a pretty
-interesting show, but excuse me for the
-liberty of reminding you that there's
-another, starting at a quarter past eight,
-at which we've made a solemn resolution
-to be present."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hear!  Hear!" cried Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It is now seven o'clock.  Of course
-you don't take as long to dress as I
-do."  He made quickly for the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a bit longer than other women,"
-cried Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we'll leave that question
-open," said Mr. Stillwater, disappearing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>That evening, as they were stepping
-from the elevator in their wraps, ready
-for the theatre, Mrs. Bunker uttered an
-exclamation of intense surprise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Canning!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker; I am delighted!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And Lord Stafford, too!"  She
-shook hands with an elderly gentleman,
-slightly foppish in appearance.  "Well,
-of all people in the world, to meet you
-here to-night.  I'm just ready to faint."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't!  Don't!  Mrs. Bunker," said
-Lord Stafford, with a laugh of intense
-enjoyment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Stafford; Lord Canning; my
-son-in-law, Mr. Stillwater; my daughter,
-Mrs. Stillwater, and my grand-daughter,
-Miss Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana," thought Lord Canning,
-as he bowed ceremoniously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"These gentlemen were my constant
-companions at Cannes last year," said
-Mrs. Bunker.  "We and the Jennings'
-were together most of the time."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad to know you, gentlemen!
-My mother-in-law's often talked about
-your kind attention to her abroad."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Kind attention is no name for it,"
-said Mrs. Bunker.  "They gave me the
-best time I ever had.  And now that
-I've caught them on American ground,
-I intend to repay it with interest."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I assure you, Mrs. Bunker, you
-need feel no sense of obligation," said
-Lord Canning.  "Your companionship
-was a source of unfailing pleasure."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you think of this big town,
-Lord Canning?" said Mr. Stillwater,
-indicating his surroundings by a
-comprehensive wave of the hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Extraordinary!" answered Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How long are you going to be
-here?" inquired Mrs. Bunker of Lord
-Stafford, while her son-in-law was
-probing Lord Canning's recently acquired
-views of America.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, we're only birds of passage,
-Mrs. Bunker."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So are we; but isn't it delightful to
-meet on the wing?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"On the wing; ha, ha!  Delightful,
-Mrs. Bunker!  Delightful!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We start to-morrow for California,"
-said Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And the day after we return to
-Indiana," added Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"In the summer we intend to
-investigate Colorado."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have a ranch up in the Rockies,"
-said Stillwater.  "Why, this little girl,"
-he brought his hand down on Indiana's
-shoulders, "learned to shoot up there."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed!" said Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you just ought to have seen
-her once cornering a grizzly.  She shot
-him, too—sure as I stand here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Extraordinary!" exclaimed Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that's a small matter," remarked
-Indiana modestly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed!" said Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We shoot bears every day in
-America," she added airily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>At these words Lord Canning looked
-about him as though he fully expected
-one to appear that moment, for the
-purpose of allowing him to see Miss
-Stillwater dispatch it with all possible speed,
-and just as she stood there in her long
-white opera cloak, holding a bunch of
-hyacinths.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not here!" exclaimed Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No?" answered Lord Canning,
-looking absently at her blonde
-pompadour, every hair of which seemed to
-quiver with a distinct life and
-individuality of its own.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana gave vent to a long peal of
-merriment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No—of course not!" Lord Canning
-hastened to add.  "Not </span><em class="italics">here</em><span>."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We used to spend most part of our
-summers in the Rockies," said Stillwater,
-"but the last two or three years
-the ladies have preferred the Adirondacks."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We thought of giving ourselves a
-month there in the autumn, before we
-return to England," said Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now's my chance," exclaimed Mrs. Bunker;
-"you must stay with us, and
-we'll give you fine hunting."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Plenty of deer in the North Woods,"
-added Stillwater.  "You'll be heartily
-welcome if you care to rough it with
-us.  Camp life, you know."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should be only too delighted,"
-said Lord Canning.  "What do you
-say, Uncle?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Charmed!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sure we'll make you feel at
-home," said Mrs. Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>At these words, uttered with such
-heartfelt sincerity, the two Englishmen
-felt at home that very moment.  There
-was a soft domesticity about Mrs. Stillwater,
-which made itself perceptible
-even in the brilliant crowded corridor
-of the Waldorf.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Lord Stafford," said Mrs. Bunker,
-"take out your note book; and
-I'll give you all necessary instructions
-to reach us."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I generally manage to get up there
-in September," said Mr. Stillwater.
-"But, if anything detains me for a short
-while—you'll be in good hands."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, we'll take care of you," said
-Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning smiled.  Indiana immediately
-decided that his face, though
-stern in repose, was not unattractive.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, good-bye till the fall," said
-Mrs. Bunker.  "Lord Stafford, do you
-remember that odd trick you had abroad,
-of turning up unexpectedly, wherever
-I happened to be?"  She tapped him
-playfully with a carnation from her
-bouquet.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha!  You see, I haven't lost
-that trick yet, Mrs. Bunker!"  He took
-the carnation and fastened it in his
-buttonhole.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, Lord Canning," said
-Indiana.  "Don't forget to look us up,
-when you come to the woods.  I'll show
-you the sights."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning bowed, blushing with
-embarrassment.  No young lady, of the
-tender age of Indiana, had ever before
-spoken to him with such freedom, or
-looked at him with such unconscious,
-unabashed eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lively woman, Mrs. Bunker," remarked
-Lord Stafford, looking after the
-party, and inhaling the fragrance of the
-carnation.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He met with no response.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lively woman, eh?" he repeated in
-a louder tone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," answered Lord Canning
-absently, "very, very young; little more
-than a child, in spite of her
-self-assurance—and there's something about
-her—something—quite—er—different!"</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="on-a-model-farm"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">On a Model Farm</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"The peas are sprouting pretty
-lively.  The tomatoes are as
-perky as the young generation.  The
-strawberries—well, they're saying,
-'To-day we're here, to-morrow we're
-gone.'  You shall have strawberries and cream
-for supper this evening."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>After delivering this report in his
-own neat style, Stillwater rolled down
-his shirt sleeves, threw aside his big
-straw wide awake, and sank into a
-rocker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you making, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A little dimity dress for Indiana to
-wear about the farm."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, history repeats itself on this
-place.  Are you commencing to make
-dresses for Indiana again?  I suppose
-you're imagining she's a little fat tot,
-and we've always been just here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not when I look at all this goods,"
-said Mrs. Stillwater laughing, "though
-she's small, compared to what I was at
-her age."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why don't you send to town for
-some dresses," asked Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, because it's a pleasure to make
-it myself, father, and the child loves to
-see me do it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Bye the bye."  Stillwater took a
-handkerchief from his pocket, and
-unfolding it, carefully disclosed what to
-ignorant eyes was simply an ordinary
-potato.  "I'll have something to show
-at the next county fair, that'll make
-neighbor Masters feel like very </span><em class="italics">small
-potatoes</em><span>."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker, who was embroidering
-red roses on white linen, handled the
-potato with the air of a connoisseur.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Father, you're working as hard on
-this farm as if your living depended on
-it," said Mrs. Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My living does depend on it; I'd
-have been under the ground before
-long, if I hadn't taken to this.  I
-consider every potato which costs me ten
-dollars, is equivalent to a doctor's pill."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker laughed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear grandmother, a man who
-works as hard as I'm working on my
-farm, makes a living and nothing more.
-I sat in my office and doubled my
-capital without turning a hand, but that's
-the pace that kills.  Halloa, Glen," as a
-young, good-looking fellow in knickerbockers
-opened the gate.  "Leave your
-wheel right there."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Mrs. Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Glen; how's your mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, thanks.  Sends her love, and
-father's quite his old self."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who cured him?" said Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He was getting to be a regular
-hypochondriac.  We compared our symptoms;
-they were about alike.  I constitute
-myself my own doctor.  I buy a
-farm, and a pretty thing it is, too.  I'll
-be wabashed, if he don't go and do the same."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, but father happened to have his
-farm, Mr. Stillwater," said the young
-fellow, laughing.  "It's been neglected
-for years.  It's not a model farm like
-this, but we're getting it into shape."  He
-looked around, as though he missed
-something or someone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Say, Glen, what do you think of
-this?"  Stillwater proudly exhibited his
-potato.  Glen examined it with
-professional interest.  "You couldn't do
-any better than that, could you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We don't try.  You know what
-father says, 'Farmin' ain't no fad with
-my neighbor, Stillwater.'—I'll just fetch
-a drink from the well."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He went off with a long, swinging
-stride, and, returning in a moment with
-a tin cup in his hand, seated himself at
-Mrs. Stillwater's feet, on the step of the
-farm-house porch.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine tasting water, eh?" said
-Stillwater watching him.  "Cold as ice;
-it's a fine thing to have a spring like
-that, right on your ground."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen nodded, drinking slowly, and
-fingering the dainty, pink and white,
-flowered material on which Mrs. Stillwater
-was working.  He finally rose,
-restored the tin cup to the well,
-sauntered back and into the kitchen, and
-out again, with a disappointed expression.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter, Glen?  Lost
-anything?" inquired Mr. Stillwater,
-winking at the others.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen smiled.  "Where's Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Indiana.  She went off on
-Circus nearly three hours ago."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why didn't she stop for me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose she thought one's company,
-two's a crowd," answered Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You never know when Circus is
-going to cut up his games," remarked
-Glen, gloomily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me about Circus now," said
-Mr. Stillwater scornfully, "don't I know
-Circus by this time?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think anything could have
-happened?" asked Mrs. Stillwater in
-alarm.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've yet to see the horse that Indiana
-couldn't manage.  I never saw two
-people understand each other better
-than she and Circus.  He fretted and
-fumed when she jumped on his back
-this morning, then he did his great act.
-Stood right up on his hind legs, and
-looked around for applause.  But she
-sat him like a rock.  The two of them
-made the prettiest picture you ever saw.
-Well, she got him so, that he trotted off
-with her like Mary's little lamb.
-Indiana has a way with a horse."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I hear her now," said Glen,
-walking down to the gate, and flinging
-it open.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at that boy!" said Stillwater.
-"See, how his face lights up!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's only natural," answered Mrs. Stillwater.
-"They all feel like that towards Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Stillwater, watching Glen,
-"not just like that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," interpolated Mrs. Bunker,
-"he's the same as the rest."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," persisted Mr. Stillwater.  "Not
-quite the same.  Look at him out there!
-He's a fine lad."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They glanced at him, standing
-bare-headed, holding the gate and watching.
-His small, finely shaped head, with its
-well-modeled features, showing in relief
-against the sycamore tree near the gate.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He fought well for his country,"
-continued Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There are others," said Mrs. Bunker
-tersely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right," responded Stillwater,
-while the clatter of horses hoofs
-came nearer.  "Not all of them went
-like him—willing to give their heart's blood."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hurrah!" cried Indiana, entering
-the gate at full gallop, riding straddle,
-breathless, hatless, her yellow hair
-streaming behind her.  Sitting aloft
-Circus, who was a tall horse, she looked
-like a little boy, a very young, tender,
-pretty boy, whose hair his mother could
-not yet bring herself to cut.  She circled
-the mound in the centre of the garden,
-and pulled Circus up tightly at the steps.
-He reared at the suddenness of the
-check.  Indiana sank forward on his
-neck, spent with her ride, and circled
-his head with her arms.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No more tricks, Circus," she
-murmured.  "The show's over; we're just
-beat out, Circus."  Glen took her in
-his arms, and lifted her bodily off the
-horse.  A stable boy led him away.  His
-shining black coat was covered with
-flecks of foam.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me a drink, someone!" said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not now, Indiana," pleaded Mrs. Stillwater,
-"you're so warm."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm parched, I tell you," said
-Indiana, stamping her foot, and pressing
-her hand to her throat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen ran quickly to the well, and
-returned with the tin cup, which he held
-to Indiana's lips.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Slowly," he said, holding the cup.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's warm," she said, snatching the
-cup, and spilling the remainder of the
-water.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why didn't you stop for me?"
-asked Glen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wanted to ride alone," answered
-Indiana, sinking down on the step.  "I
-wanted to think—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Think," echoed Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Think," repeated Mrs. Bunker.
-"Writing a book, Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Think!" said Glen.  "If Indiana's
-taking these notions, I guess I'd better
-say good bye."  He put on his cap.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't mind them, darling," said
-Mrs. Stillwater.  She drew Indiana's
-head down on her shoulder, feeling her
-hot cheeks and forehead solicitously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's so warm—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the use of riding yourself out
-like that, Indiana?" said Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Grandma Chazy," cried Indiana,
-starting up.  "I'd rather have one mad
-gallop like that if it were the death of
-me, than take a slow gait for the rest of
-my life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana!" exclaimed Mrs. Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's only the sporting spirit in
-her, mother," said Stillwater.  "She
-comes by it honestly."  He smiled as
-he recalled a few venturesome dealings
-of his own within the last year, which
-had not culminated as he would have
-wished.  Stillwater was one of the men
-who could enjoy a laugh at his own
-expense.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There was a devil in me, this
-morning," said Indiana, fiercely, "and I
-just rode it down."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's only young blood, mother.
-You can't expect her to be the same as
-we old-timers."  He glanced slyly at
-Mrs. Bunker, who poked him with her
-needle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I was on the war path," said
-Indiana.  "If I hadn't gone out with
-Circus, I—I—well, you'd have just
-scattered, that's all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Bet yer life," chuckled Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is my dress finished?" asked
-Indiana, burying her face in the pink and
-white folds on Mrs. Stillwater's lap.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just a stitch or two more, dear.  I've
-been working on it all morning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It looks so nice and cool.  I want
-to put it on."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So you shall, dear," said Mrs. Stillwater,
-in the tone one uses to a fractious
-baby.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just leave my hair alone, Glen,"
-exclaimed Indiana, turning suddenly
-around on him, with flashing eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, Indiana," he said, meekly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come now, darling; come up stairs
-and when you've had your bath, I'll
-dress you up and brush your hair nicely.
-It's all tangled."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't mean to be cross, Glen,"
-said Indiana, with a sudden change of
-mood, as Mrs. Stillwater took her hand
-and led her through the kitchen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that's all right, Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen Masters had known Indiana all
-her life.  When she was born, the
-six-year old Glen came to see the baby, and
-stood by her cradle, sucking his thumb
-in solemn-eyed wonder.  Not having
-any brothers or sisters of his own, he
-adopted her immediately; and he loved
-to be tyrannized over by the petted baby
-girl, who kicked and scratched him one
-minute, and the next caressed him with
-her little, soft, fat palms.  His father had
-risen in the world very much the same
-way as Stillwater.  They had been
-ranchmen together.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater lit a meerschaum pipe and
-puffed it slowly.  Glen followed his
-example.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's two birds building a nest
-up in that sycamore," said Stillwater.
-"Hear them twitter?  They're just as
-happy as can be."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen lounged on the step, looking
-dreamily up at the sky.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, how are things going on over
-at the farm?" inquired Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, we'll show some livestock at the
-County Fair that can't be beat."  His
-eyes smiled a challenge at Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No competition," chuckled Stillwater,
-"but just you come over to the
-barn.  I want to show you something.
-'Farming ain't no fad with Friend
-Masters,' but I'll meet him at Phillipi."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"When you men once get with the
-livestock, that's the last we see of you.
-Dinner's ready as soon as Indiana's
-dressed," said Mrs. Bunker, as they
-sauntered off laughing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was the custom of the family to
-partake of dinner farm style, in the large
-kitchen.  The first bell, which Kitty
-rang daily, was for the family, the second
-summoned the farm hands.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen and Stillwater, by chance, not
-by any intention of punctuality, emerged
-from the farm, just as the first bell
-resounded from the house.  It was then
-that Glen thought fit to stop and utter
-a very vital question.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Stillwater, I want to ask you
-what you think of my chances with—with Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen was oblivious to the fact that he
-had not chosen a very propitious time or
-spot, to broach such a subject.  The
-dinner bell had just sounded and Mr. Stillwater
-had been working since five
-o'clock that morning, to gain an
-appetite.  Then, the mid-day sun poured
-down on them where they stood, and
-an Indiana sun is hot in May.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your chances with Indiana?"  The
-repetition was merely a subterfuge to
-gain time, as Indiana's father had not the
-remotest idea how to answer her young
-suitor.  Glen's preference had been an
-open secret for a long time; but he had
-never openly broached the subject, not
-even to Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh—oh, I think they're all right, my
-boy—why shouldn't they be?"  Stillwater
-looked about him as though challenging
-earth and heaven to contradict.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's exactly what I think," said
-Glen, grasping the other's hand.  "Why
-shouldn't they be?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater's heart sank as he looked
-into the young fellow's glowing, hopeful
-eyes.  He strongly suspected that Indiana
-would not accept her old playmate in
-the character of a lover.  But he could
-not bring himself to tell Glen this.  He
-felt deeply for the son of his oldest friend.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've known her all her life,
-Mr. Stillwater," said Glen, as though this
-was a fact unknown to Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that so, my boy?" said Stillwater,
-accepting the information seriously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And it is my conviction that I
-understand her better than anyone living;
-better even than yourself!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You do?" said Stillwater.  "Well,
-that's wonderful!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It is, and that's why I don't see how
-Indiana could marry anyone else."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Anyone else but you?" repeated
-Stillwater with deference.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Precisely; anyone else but me.  Can't
-you see it yourself?  A stranger wouldn't
-understand her.  He wouldn't have the
-remotest idea how to treat her.  I know
-all her faults."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you positive about that?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Positive."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, it's a great thing to know the
-worst beforehand."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I can rely on your co-operation
-in this matter, Mr. Stillwater?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You can," said Mr. Stillwater.  "I'd
-like to see it.  I've known you from a
-little lad and you're the son of my oldest
-friend.  I'm with you—you can figure
-what that's worth."  He himself knew
-how little his wishes would weigh with
-his opiniative little daughter, in such a
-case.  Glen also realized that fact only too
-well.  What they </span><em class="italics">said</em><span> was merely a
-matter of form.  They both felt there was a
-certain etiquette attendant on the subject.
-"Thank you, Mr. Stillwater.  I'm
-glad to think you consider me a proper
-husband for Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't mention it, my boy! and now,
-I want to give you a little advice.  Don't
-spring anything on Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen looked at him inquiringly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be too sudden—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana has already received several
-offers, but I don't believe anyone of
-them was a shock to her," answered
-Glen dryly.  He thought also, "How
-can a fellow be sudden with a girl he's
-known ever since she had short, yellow
-rings curling all over her head, and
-wasn't sure on her feet."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She expected those offers, but she
-never dreams of such a thing from you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't suppose she does," said
-Glen, gloomily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, we can't tell anything
-about </span><em class="italics">her</em><span>.  One never knows what sort
-of a notion Indiana's going to take.  I
-don't want to discourage you—but don't
-stake your whole life on this thing, my
-boy.  It won't do—it never does."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen drew a deep breath, and turned
-his head away.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Put your cap on!  The sun's hotter
-than July."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Manila has schooled me to
-this—and worse, if it comes."  He
-compressed his lips, and gazed ahead, past
-the farm, to the utmost line of horizon,
-and beyond that.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're a true soldier, my boy.  Face
-the music—we've all got to, sooner or
-later."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The dinner bell rang again with
-menace in its brassy tones.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'd better go back to the house.
-They'll give us Hail Columbia!  Brace
-up, Glen, and remember—I'm with you!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Over on the farm-house porch Mrs. Bunker
-was saying to Kitty: "It's the
-last of those men, once they get with the
-live-stock."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Here they are," said Kitty.  "Why,
-Mr. Stillwater!  Dinner's ready long ago."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't get excited, Kitty; keep cool.
-This is the hot part of the day.  Do you
-observe that the sun has approached its
-meridian, Kitty?  No occasion for rush
-here.  Rest and quiet, Kitty—that's my
-cure.  Say, look at Indiana!  Isn't she
-the sweetest thing that ever happened?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She peeped from behind her mother,
-dressed in the simple pink and white
-dimity.  Her hair had been smoothly
-brushed, and hung in one long braid.
-She looked like a fair and happy child,
-of not more than fifteen; laughing,
-refreshed from sleep.  Glen gazed at her,
-but said nothing.  His recent confession
-to Indiana's father, had the effect of
-making him conscious and tongue-tied.
-There was a large orchard on the farm,
-where lay the afternoon shade.  The
-family repaired there, according to the
-daily custom, as soon as dinner was over.
-Hammocks hung in the trees and Kitty
-spread shawls on the ground, and
-brought pillows galore.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen sat in the midst of the group,
-tuning his mandolin, which he kept at
-the farm.  Glen and his mandolin were
-associated.  All invitations issued to him
-included the clause, "Bring your
-mandolin!"  He seldom made a social visit
-without it, except on doleful occasions,
-such as funerals or visits of condolence.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He was hailed with joy whenever he
-appeared with his frank smile and his
-mandolin.  In the West, there is a keen
-appreciation of impromptu pleasure.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>In the orchard the fruit trees had fully
-blossomed, the grass was still a young,
-tender green.  Through the masses of
-delicate pink and white color, shone here
-and there, glimpses of the exquisite blue
-sky.  There is little to admire, as far as
-scenery is concerned, in this flat country,
-over which one can travel for miles
-without seeing a rolling meadow, or a
-sign of a hill.  But one can rave over the
-skies of Indiana, sometimes brilliantly,
-sometimes softly tenderly blue.  Their
-peculiar azure is not reproduced in any
-other country of the world.  The color
-ran out when the skies of Indiana were
-painted, and never renewed, in order
-that they should remain unique.  The
-secret belongs to the Universe.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="springtime"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Springtime.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"The blossoms are commencing
-to fall," said Mrs. Stillwater,
-shaking three or four petals off her
-work.  Her hands were never idle, and
-they were now manipulating some fleecy
-white wool.  "What a pity it can't
-always be like this—the trees look so
-beautiful.  I could content myself here
-all summer—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I won't say that," said
-Mrs. Bunker.  "There's no place hotter on
-earth, than Indiana in summer.  But if
-it would always be as pleasant as now—I
-like the seashore in July—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean," interrupted Stillwater,
-lying under a low-spreading apple tree,
-with a handkerchief spread over his face,
-"that you like the 'life' at the seashore.
-There's no affinity between you and the
-ocean that I know of."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, have it that way, if you will.
-I like 'the life at the seashore.'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker looked defiantly up from
-the red rose which she was embroidering,
-with a little less energy perhaps, than in
-the morning.  "Particularly, as we are
-buried alive in the Adirondacks during
-August, September and October."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Buried alive?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Buried alive!"  Mrs. Bunker looked
-around triumphantly, enjoying the
-sensation her words had occasioned.
-Indiana had thrown down her book which
-she was reading, lying on her back.  Glen
-stopped thrumming pensive snatches
-of melody.  Mrs. Stillwater gave her
-mother a startled glance and Stillwater
-threw the handkerchief from his face
-and raised himself to a sitting posture.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I never saw such a woman!
-Buried alive!  Buried—why, you have
-the camp filled with company.  Didn't
-I have to put up tents for them last year;
-the place looked as if there was an army
-bivouacing on it—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes; I can make a good time
-for myself wherever I am—but when
-we're alone there—it's so still, I'm afraid
-of the sound of my own voice, and
-jump for joy if I see a chipmunk
-peeping out of its hole.  There's something
-spry about them, at all attempts.  The
-natives would do well to imitate them.
-Such a slow lot—and those guides with
-their drawling voices.  The world just
-stops, when you get up to the Adirondacks."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm never so happy," remarked
-Glen, "as when I'm in the forests and
-on those lakes.  It's the real thing.
-City life goes against my grain, somehow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I always feel quite natural in the
-woods," said Indiana.  "Just as though
-I belonged there, with the other wild
-things."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"When did those English friends of
-yours say they were coming up,
-grandma?" inquired Mr. Stillwater, in a
-muffled voice, having again taken shelter
-under the handkerchief, after recovering
-from the last of the many shocks he
-was in the habit of receiving from his
-mother-in-law.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They said September, but I have a
-shrewd idea they'll get tired of travelling
-before then.  They may arrive the latter
-part of August.  They'll be glad to see
-a little home life once more."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Friends of yours, Mrs. Bunker?"
-inquired Glen, with a slight frown.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; Lord Canning and his uncle,
-Lord Nelson Stafford.  They belong to
-a representative noble English family.
-I met them at Cannes last year—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Canning is a very distinguished
-looking gentleman," said Mrs. Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"His face inspires trust, if I'm not
-mistaken," remarked her husband.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I promised to show him the sights,"
-said Indiana, with a mischievous smile.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How kind and disinterested of
-you," remarked Glen, in a very
-sarcastic voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean by that?"
-demanded Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean you intended to make an
-impression on him, by the time you
-were through with the sights," answered
-Glen, with a pale face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And supposing I did," said Indiana,
-provokingly.  "It wouldn't be the first
-time I have made an impression, nor
-will it be the last."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, well, I suppose you must have
-someone to flirt with," said Glen, resignedly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, children, don't quarrel!  You
-know what that New York oracle said:
-'Rest and quiet.'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I never flirted with you," said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should hope not," answered Glen,
-in a very dignified manner.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean by that?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean that I intend to be taken
-seriously, or not at all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They all gasped at this temerity from
-such an unexpected quarter.  Stillwater
-peeped at Indiana from under the corner
-of his handkerchief.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No man has ever yet dictated to
-me," said Indiana, majestically.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's more than I'd do," murmured
-Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Men are generally only too glad if
-I will tolerate them on any terms,"
-continued Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm not like others; but never
-mind, Indiana—that's true enough—I
-ought to be glad to be tolerated on any
-terms."  He smiled resignedly around
-on the circle.  He was afraid he had
-gone too far.  At all events, their little
-skirmishes generally ended this way.
-Indiana felt a slight misgiving as she took
-up her book again.  Glen, her slave and
-comrade, was one person, but Glen, who
-wished to be taken seriously, with a pale
-set face and glowing eyes, was another.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you making, ma?" inquired Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A little woolen cape, with a darling
-hood attached, for Indiana.  Just to put
-on her when she's roaming after dinner
-in the mountains.  It's so chilly there,
-when the sun goes down."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're always making something
-for her," said Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's the best mother I ever had,"
-remarked Indiana, proudly fingering
-her little dimity skirt.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Stillwater blushed with happiness,
-and looked with almost tearful love on
-this child, who showed such unparalleled
-appreciation of her mother's efforts.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sing 'My Georgia Lady Love,'
-Glen!" said Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen struck a few notes on his mandolin
-and sang in a very pleasing baritone.</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>"My Georgia Lady Love, my Southern Queen,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>How your brown eyes do shine like stars above,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>There's not a girl can equal you,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>My Georgia Lady Love—Love."</span></div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Kitty, you were never so welcome
-in your life," said Stillwater, as Kitty
-appeared with the tea-tray.  She was
-followed by a farm-hand carrying a table
-and a camp-stool.  Mrs. Bunker seated
-herself, and commenced pouring out
-the tea.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Go ahead with the second verse, Glen!"</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>"One day I said, 'I love you, Sue,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>Believe me, gal, I will be true.'</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>She slowly dropped her head,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>And then she softly said:</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>'Mister Johnson, 'deed I loves you too.</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>My Georgia Lady Love, my Southern Queen."</span></div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"There's a circus to-night," volunteered Kitty.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Circus!" exclaimed Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I want to go," said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's stuff the big hay wagon full of
-straw and pillows," cried Mrs. Bunker.
-"It's full moon; we'll have a grand
-ride, eh, Ratio?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Ratio looked visibly delighted.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you know what he said, 'Rest
-and quiet.'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Pa, you're forever quoting that old
-mummy," said Indiana.  "He's like
-the ghost in Hamlet.  It's settled; we'll go."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what's the matter, Kitty?
-Got anything on your mind?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir; but Jim Tuttle's invited
-me to the circus, and I'd like to go, if
-the ladies don't object."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all, not at all," said Stillwater,
-with an amiable wave of his hand.  Kitty
-left the orchard in high glee.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She did well to ask you, instead of
-me, sly thing," said Mrs. Bunker.
-"That girl's too fond of pleasure."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now grandma—we were young ourselves, once."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Speak for yourself, Ratio.  I'm
-going to the kitchen to make some
-taffy.  There's just enough time for it
-to cool.  We'll take it along and give
-it to all the youngsters."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, ma, there's a nice breeze
-blowing, the sun's going down.  What
-do you say to a short spin?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, father."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, get ready.  I'll have the
-buckboard here in five minutes."  He rose,
-shaking off the blossoms which
-powdered his coat like snow.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's some on your hair, ma;
-they're so pretty."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana rose lazily from the grass,
-also shaking off a shower of blossoms,
-and leaned against a low-spreading
-apple tree, extending her arms on the
-branches each side of her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen gazed at her, still thrumming
-his mandolin.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think you'll come to
-Narragansett with us, this summer?" said
-Indiana, looking idly up through the
-branches.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What for?" said Glen, gloomily.
-"To see you dance and flirt with a lot
-of—of simpering idiots."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana laughed.  Every time she
-moved, the blossoms fell upon her
-shoulders, neck and hair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you like me to enjoy myself?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not with other men."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that's selfish!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Maybe," said Glen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was silence, broken only by the
-thrumming of the mandolin and the twitter
-of birds from the recesses of the trees.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's sad, the way those blossoms fall
-on you, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana shook the branches, and
-peeped out laughing through the thick
-shower which followed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You look like a part of the tree,"
-said Glen.  "Like a wood-sprite, a
-Dryad—or something."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Or something," said Indiana, "is
-very illustrative to the mind."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I like you best as you are here about
-the farm," continued Glen, watching
-her steadily with his dark eyes, and
-continuing his eternal thrumming.  "Just
-as you are now, in that simple dress
-your mother made for you, with your
-hair hanging like that—I always liked
-your hair hanging—do you remember,
-Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you always liked it, Glen."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It went rather hard with me, when
-you first put it up, and wore long
-dresses.  It seemed as though that were
-going to be the end of all our good
-times."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But it wasn't, Glen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No; you were the same old Indiana,
-although you looked more—the woman.
-Then you discovered your own power,
-and you took to breaking hearts.  You
-were very apt at that business, for one so young."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You forget," said Indiana, with a
-sly smile, "there was Grandma Chazy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's true.  An old soldier in camp
-put you on to all the principal maneuvers."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They both laughed, looking around
-cautiously, like naughty children, as
-though Mrs. Bunker might be hiding
-somewhere among the trees.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I fought shy of you for awhile,
-then—I was young and unworldly."  From
-Glen's seriously reminiscent expression,
-he might have been looking back upon
-another self of twenty or thirty years
-ago.  "And I could not justify your
-practices at that time.  I don't know
-whether you noticed the difference in me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Only that you made yourself scarce
-when there was anyone else around."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I accepted the inevitable after a
-while; but when I see you in the midst
-of a crowd of men, dealing out dances
-and smiles, you appear to me like some
-stranger, with a marvellous resemblance
-to a girl I once played with, called
-Indiana.  Here, in the country, and up in
-the Adirondacks you are the real Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's nonsense!  We can't be girl
-and boy forever.  There's something
-else in life—I suppose."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" said Glen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," answered Indiana
-impatiently, "but it's individual.  People
-must discover it for themselves—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you?" asked Glen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," answered Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have," said Glen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This sort of life is all very well, but
-in order to develop, one must see the
-world, must be of the world.  I don't
-believe in a groove."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your mother did," said Glen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How can you compare me to ma?
-She's the old-fashioned type, bless her
-heart!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at this day," said Glen
-irrelevantly.  "I believe in enjoying what
-we have.  This is one day out of life.
-There'll never be another like this—not
-just like this.  The blossoms are going—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll come again, next year,"
-said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but we may be different, that's
-the trouble.  I'd like to keep this
-day—everything is so young and tender and
-spring-like—and you're part of it all.
-The sun sinking over there; the rosy
-clouds above our heads—there's a soft,
-pink light on the whole orchard—it's
-shining down, through the branches,
-on your face.  I wish there was an
-artist—the best in the world—living
-hereabouts.  I'd jump on my wheel,
-and bring him in a trice, with his
-color-box and his canvas.  But it would be
-even too late—to catch this light.  I'd
-have him paint the whole thing with
-you in the foreground, among the
-blossoms—that glow on your face.  I'd call
-the picture, 'Indiana.'"</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="i-d-call-the-picture-indiana"><span class="bold medium">[Illustration: "I'd call the picture, 'Indiana.'"
-<br />(missing from book)]</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"And you, Glen?  You wouldn't be
-in it at all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd own the picture," said Glen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A slight breeze swept through the
-orchard, bringing a snowy shower from
-the trees.  There was a tinkling of bells,
-not far away.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The cows have just come home,"
-said Indiana.  "Glen, what will you do
-with yourself this summer, if you don't
-go with us to Narragansett?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll stay with the folks, till you all
-go up to the camp.  Then I'll join you
-on our old hunting grounds—if you
-want me—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why!" exclaimed Indiana.  "It
-wouldn't seem like the Adirondacks, if
-you weren't there."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen smiled gratefully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How are the folks?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, thanks.  They were talking
-about you, to-day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll ride over there to-morrow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll be glad to see you.  They
-love you just—just like a daughter."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I like people to love me," said
-Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So do I," answered Glen.  He gazed
-around him.  Nature so beautifully
-revealed just then, inspired him to speak.
-"There are not many days like this,"
-he thought, "and now, it is measured
-by moments.  Before it is over I will
-tell her!"  He leaned over his mandolin,
-watching a little brown bug struggle
-through the grass, then he gazed
-upward.  The rosy light still lingered on
-the orchard.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Before it fades, I will ask her."  Stillwater's
-caution recurred to him.
-"'Don't spring anything on Indiana!'  He
-didn't make allowances for a moment
-like this," thought Glen.  "He
-didn't think it was going to be such a
-day."  He was very pale, and his fingers
-shook slightly as they laid the mandolin
-down on the grass.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think you could love me,
-Indiana?" he said, simply.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I've loved you all my life, Glen."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mean that way, Indiana."  He
-took up his mandolin again, nervously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know any other way, Glen,"
-she answered, pitifully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not now; but don't you think you could?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Glen."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Try me; let's be engaged for a little
-while, then if you can't love me—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen, it's no use—I've known you
-too long."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, you don't know what you're
-saying—you're killing me, Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen!  Glen!"  She threw herself
-down beside him, and smoothed and
-patted his hair, soothing him as though
-he had fallen and hurt himself.  He
-seized her hands, and held them tightly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Life means nothing to me, without
-you, Indiana—you're the key to it.
-Look here; suppose I was given a
-beautiful book to read, in a foreign
-language—the greatest ever written—it
-would be mere print, wouldn't it?  But
-suppose someone translated it for me,
-and all its beauty became suddenly
-revealed.  You translate life for me that
-way, Indiana; </span><em class="italics">don't you understand</em><span>?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, Glen.  But if I marry you,
-that will be the end.  You're too much
-a part of the old life—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The old life, Indiana?  Isn't that
-the best life?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not for me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't know what you're saying.
-If I live to be a hundred, I want to live
-true to the old life, to the old ideals and
-the old truths, even the simple ones I
-learned at home, when I was a little lad."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're a good fellow, Glen; shake
-hands with me!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you think about it, Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, dear!  I hate to say it—but I
-want to be straight with you.  Something
-tells me it's not the right thing for
-us to marry.  Don't say any more—don't
-try to persuade me—it's no use."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't look like that, Glen! you'll
-break my heart.  Life isn't over for you,
-because—of this.  It's a beautiful world
-still—look at the blossoms, look at the
-day!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not the same," said Glen, holding
-his hand to his eyes.  "It'll never
-be the same."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, it will, dear; after a while.
-I don't want to lose you, Glen; you'll
-be my dear old friend still.  Say you
-will!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you remember when I went to
-the war, Indiana?  You gave me a lock
-of your hair, and I carried it over my
-heart.  It was a charm, a little yellow
-lock—it brought me back to you alive.
-You cried when you gave it to me, and
-said, 'God keep you, Glen!'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And I say it now!  Wherever we
-both happen to be, until I die, 'God
-keep you, Glen!'"  She broke down,
-and sobbed on his breast.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He smoothed her hair mechanically,
-murmuring, "A little yellow lock—I
-carried it over my heart, always.  They
-might have found it if I hadn't come
-back.  I wish that I hadn't, now—I
-wish that I hadn't!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen!  What are you saying?"  She
-held her hand over his mouth.  "We'll
-go on just the same; you mustn't say
-anything to the others.  We'll keep our
-own secret, and you'll come to the camp
-this August?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It'll never be the same," repeated
-Glen, monotonously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly they heard the sound of
-wheels, and Stillwater's voice shouting
-to Jim Tuttle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I must be getting home," said Glen
-stupidly, like a person just awakened
-from sleep.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, aren't you going to the circus,
-Glen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Circus?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't break up the party!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was not a merry circus party, as far
-as the younger members were concerned,
-but the others were lively, and
-failed to see anything strange in their
-behaviour.  Indiana asked someone to
-dare her to jump down in the ring, and
-ride better than the lady equestrian, but
-they all wisely refrained from doing so.
-Glen sat in the center of the wagon and
-tinkled his mandolin faithfully, for the
-amusement of the party.  They dropped
-him at his own gate, to which they
-drove, singing hilariously, Kitty
-bringing up the rear in a buggy with Jim
-Tuttle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello, neighbor Stillwater!" called
-a voice from one of the farm-house
-windows.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's father," said Glen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello, Masters!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is this what you call 'rest and quiet?'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I don't believe in too much
-of a good thing; good-night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-night; good luck to you all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Merrily we roll along," sang Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen leaned against the gate after
-they had gone, listening to their voices
-in the distance.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Have a good time, Glen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, father!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The window closed.  Glen laughed
-bitterly, leaning against the gate; then
-the laugh changed to a sob.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want much, I ask so little,
-dear God; </span><em class="italics">only Indiana</em><span>."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="camp-indiana"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Camp Indiana.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"I'm tired of the model farm.  I
-wouldn't care to spend another
-spring here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, your love of change will
-bode you no good, some day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I come by it honestly, Grandma
-Chazy—you're always on the go."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't compare yourself to me,
-Indiana.  I'm an old woman."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd be hopping mad, if anyone
-else called you that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I can take a privilege which I
-wouldn't allow to others," said
-Mrs. Bunker, sweetly.  "I mean I'm an old
-woman compared to you, Indiana; I
-have experience and discretion, to back
-up my roving spirit."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Em—n!" said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She was lying on a nest of pillows,
-reading, surrounded by dormer
-windows, in one of the upper rooms of the
-farm-house.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at pa out there in the rain
-with his rubber coat and hat.  He's a
-sight!  Wonder if Glen will be over
-to-day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Appears to me, you're always looking
-for Glen."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's no one else to look for,
-here, is there?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Girls your age generally do attach
-themselves to the man who's around."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm no more attached to Glen than
-I ever was.  Everybody likes him.  He's
-a good fellow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's true.  Do you think you'll
-marry him?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's your opinion on that matter,
-Grandma Chazy?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you'd regret it all your life;
-he's only a boy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but he's a good fellow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You said that before."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen had kept away for a week or so
-after the moonlight circus party, and in
-that time became morbid and
-melancholy.  Indiana dominated him
-completely.  He racked his brain, hour after
-hour, trying to remember the exact words
-in which she had uttered such and such
-a remark, with her exact tone of voice
-and the exact expression of her eyes at
-the time.  Sometimes in his sleep he
-heard her calling "Glen dear!  Glen
-dear!  Glen dear!" her childish name
-for him, in a helpless, frightened voice.
-He would awaken with a terrible fear
-that she might be ill or in trouble.
-Compared with this awful anxiety
-oppressing him in the night, his past misery
-seemed nothing.  He resolved that if
-Indiana only kept well and happy he
-would ask nothing more of life.  Again,
-he heard her laughing in his dreams,
-mockingly, tantalizingly; laughing,
-laughing, laughing, until his brain
-reeled, and he thought, "This is the
-laugh that drives men mad."  Then,
-when taking bicycle rides on the
-moonlight nights of his week's absence, her
-face seemed to flash upon him suddenly
-in dark places, like that of a sweet ghost.
-Haunted like this, the idea of seeing her
-in reality once more was like the
-conventional promise of Heaven.  He resolved
-to resume their old footing.  "Indiana
-wishes it, and anything is better than not
-to see her."  He appeared again at the
-model farm, humble and deferential to
-Indiana's slightest wish, grateful for her
-every look and word.  With her tender
-heart and warm sympathies she pitied
-him intensely.  She tried to establish
-their old comradeship.  The loyal little
-soul hated to lose a friend.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen felt life was worth living once
-more.  There is a magic flower, tiny,
-and blue as the sky.  This is the
-forget-me-not bloom of hope.  It sheds
-a sweet and subtle fragrance which
-enchants the soul, and charms the eyes, so
-that they see a wonderful light on all
-things.  But when the flower perishes,
-there is an end to the spell.  The glamour
-fades before the eyes, the soul is seized
-with an aching grief.  But the witch-flower
-of hope will bloom again, if it is
-not plucked by the root.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm getting a little bit tired of it
-myself, here," remarked Mrs. Bunker.
-"Well, it'll be time to pack up soon; I
-expect to enjoy myself this summer."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana, watching the rain, forebore
-to answer.  There were times when
-Mrs. Bunker's constant desire for pleasure
-rather palled on her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mid-summer at a fashionable seaside
-resort proved to be merely a repetition
-of other summers.  Indiana enjoyed
-herself, after the manner of the young and
-thoughtless; dancing, bathing, flirting,
-and laughing.  But after the glare of
-the sea and the kaleidoscope of life on
-the shore, after falling asleep every night
-to the echoes of the very latest dance
-music, mingled with the eternal dash of
-the waves, the woods beckoned her invitingly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was the middle of August before the
-Stillwater's were installed in the
-mountains.  They arrived at the primitive
-station early in the morning, and were
-met by one of the two guides yearly
-engaged for the season.  There was a
-large mountain wagon, without a cover,
-awaiting them, and a pair of
-fresh-looking ponies.  Indiana jumped up
-nimbly, and took the reins, while Haller,
-the guide, packed in the rest of the
-family and Kitty, all looking rather
-sleepy, from their all-night travel.  The
-other servants had preceded them by
-some days.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All right!" shouted Indiana, starting
-at a brisk trot.  It was only twenty
-minutes' drive from the station to a
-landing, where they were met by a
-trim little naptha launch with "The
-Indiana" painted newly, in bright
-letters, upon the prow.  She puffed slowly
-up one of the largest lakes in the
-Adirondacks, buried in the very heart of the
-mountains.  The latter are higher in this
-particular region, the scenery wilder
-than elsewhere.  Nature had designed
-a beautiful color scheme from the lake;
-the rich, vivid green of the banks,
-fretted with enormous rocks and crags,
-the darker background of the immediate
-mountains, in their funereal dress of
-pine and balsam, and beyond the pale
-tracery of the distant ranges.  It was a
-dull morning, and the grey atmosphere
-gave a touch of desolation to the wild
-environment of the lake.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's lonesome as the grave," said
-Mrs. Bunker.  "Throw me that cape,
-please, Mr. Haller.  I'm chilly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yer be?" said Haller, with a certain
-contortion of his serious face, which
-was intended for a smile.  "Waal, 'tis
-cool, mornin's."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How are the evenings?  Cold, I suppose?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Haller cogitated for the space of five
-minutes.  No one answers a question
-thoughtlessly in these regions; and after
-sojourning there some time, one learns
-not to interrogate at random.  "Waal,"
-he said at length, "'tis cool evenin's."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"None of the leaves have changed
-yet," said Indiana, after closely
-inspecting the banks on either side.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No; they ain't changin'.  Waal,
-thar's bin no frost, ter speak of—thar's
-bin no frost, ter speak of."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it going to storm?" inquired
-Mrs. Stillwater, shivering, with a heavy plaid
-shawl wrapped about her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Haller looked at the sky.  "Waal,
-not yet awhile."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, your hat!" cried Mrs. Bunker.
-A gust of wind had torn it off
-her head.  Haller deftly rescued it from
-the lake and restored it to Indiana in a
-dripping condition.  She sat
-bare-headed, enjoying the outlook, the moist
-wind blowing her hair in large rings
-around her face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We're in for it," said Mrs. Bunker.
-When they started, the lake had been
-grey and calm.  Now, it was gradually
-darkening, and dotted here and there
-with white-caps.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are yer skeert?" said Haller, looking
-at Mrs. Bunker with one of his contortions.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," retorted Mrs. Bunker, sharply,
-"but I want to get to the camp."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Waal, we're goin' there," said
-Haller, calmly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>In a little while they came in sight of
-the boat-house, elaborately rustic, and
-pretty in design.  Near it was planted
-an enormous flag-staff, from which
-waved a white flag bearing the name
-"Camp Indiana" in red letters.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Camp Indiana, christened after the
-only daughter of the owner, was the
-usual log structure, but capacious in
-dimensions, with a luxurious interior.
-There were many adjuncts in the way
-of out-buildings and summer-houses,
-glimpses of which could be caught
-between the trees.  The camp owed much
-to art, but rejoiced in one supreme,
-natural beauty.  This was a giant balsam
-tree which Stillwater could not bring
-himself to cut, and, therefore, had been
-used in the construction of the camp
-itself.  The huge trunk supported the
-balcony, and the lower branches were
-entwined in the rustic railing.  Thence
-it rose, screening the front windows
-up to the very roof, above which it
-towered paternally.  Birds innumerable
-made their homes in the branches, and
-chipmunks in the moss-covered trunk.
-Every summer the little creatures ran
-nimbly along the lower limbs, peeping
-curiously at the sharers of their home;
-and young birds, essaying to fly, met
-with mishaps and fell into the camp with
-broken wings and legs.  The latter were
-a great solicitude to Indiana.  She
-nursed them carefully, with a knowledge
-founded on similar cases in the Rocky
-Mountains.  There, she had gained much
-experience with birds and animals.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Though it was blowing strongly on
-the lake, there was no wind at the camp.
-No matter how the elements rage, there
-is quiet among the trees, except for a
-sighing whisper, to which one could fall
-asleep.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Em—n!" said Mrs. Bunker, taking
-a survey when she reached the balcony.
-"Enough to give one the blues."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was a huge deer-head over the
-entrance, a trophy of Stillwater's first
-year in the Adirondacks.  The large
-hall was decorated with many other
-trophies from the Rocky Mountains and
-elsewhere.  Wild skins of every
-description strewed the polished floors
-throughout the camp.  Logs crackled brightly
-in the great, deep fire-place of the hall,
-as they entered, emitting an odor of
-pine.  The large, brown eyes of an elk
-gazed beneath the branching antlers
-mildly down on the fire.  A short, wide
-flight of stairs was broken by a balcony
-over the hall.  From the railing hung
-an antique, Persian silk rug, upon which
-the fire played richly.  Beneath the
-stair-case and each side of the fire-place
-were deep niches, comfortably furnished
-with pillows, of which red was the
-prevailing tone.  Graceful jars of old
-pottery decorated the shelves above, with
-here and there a brilliant cluster of
-peacock's feathers, or the rich plumage
-of a stuffed bird, to relieve the dullness
-of the clay.  This decoration was
-repeated in all the lower rooms, of which
-there were many, one opening into the
-other, giving a vista of fire-lit interiors,
-the flames catching an occasional flash
-of color from a red pillow or an Oriental
-scarf hanging carelessly from a shelf.
-The camp resounded to the crackling
-of logs with the accompanying, healthy
-perfume of the burning pine.  Indiana
-ran through all the rooms, looking out
-of every window upon the lake.  Those
-of her own room opened directly into
-the balsam tree which ornamented the
-front of the camp.  This room had been
-built entirely of white maple.  There
-was simple furniture of the same wood.
-The gleaming white walls and ceiling
-served as a background for a continuous
-Bacchanalian dance of shadows, cast by
-the branches of the giant balsam
-screening the windows.  Here, also, logs
-crackled cheerily in a deep, wide
-fireplace, tiled with white onyx, which
-reflected the flames in fitful opaline
-gleams.  White bear rugs strewed the
-floor.  Indiana, as she looked around
-her, had visions of frosty, October
-mornings, when she had put her feet
-unwillingly out of bed into the warm
-fur, and hopped over the intervening
-space of cold floor to the fire.  She
-remembered awakings, when a breath
-of balsam air swept like a cool hand
-across her forehead.  Open windows
-and fires were Mr. Stillwater's strict
-injunctions at the camp.  Indiana, for one,
-obeyed him.  She had often opened her
-eyes to see a chipmunk sitting on its
-haunches, regarding her curiously.  And
-birds were in the habit of flying around
-her little nest and out again to their own
-nest in the tree.  She stood for a
-moment by the fire with a sense of glad
-content to be once more in this white,
-balsam-scented room.  Then she ran
-into her mother's room, and into that
-reserved for Glen.  On the mantel were
-portraits of his mother and father.  They
-had insisted on his leaving some of his
-belongings there last year, saying that
-if he did so, he would be sure to come
-again.  Indiana inspected the portraits.
-"I'm glad they're here," she thought.
-"It'll be a welcome for him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker stood warming her
-hands by the hall fire.  "The dampness
-isn't off the rooms yet."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They've bin closed s'long, yer see,"
-said Haller, lighting his pipe in the
-doorway.  "Waal, I opened up everything,
-lettin' in the sun, soon as I
-knowed yer was comin'."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now that he's lit his pipe," thought
-Mrs. Bunker, "it won't go out while
-we're here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He stalked leisurely through the
-rooms, throwing a fresh log on every
-fire, and looking about proudly, as
-though he could well be congratulated
-upon his preparations.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything looks very nice, Henry,"
-said Mrs. Stillwater, "just as if we left
-yesterday."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Another pipe saluted Mrs. Bunker at
-the entrance.  It belonged to the second
-guide, who was somewhat brisker in
-appearance than Haller.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Waal, haow d'ye find things lookin',
-ma'am?" he said, with a cheery laugh.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They're looking all right, William,"
-answered Mrs. Bunker, graciously.  She
-liked him better than Haller, who had
-an irritating effect on her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will it be a good season for deer?"
-said Indiana, running down the stairs.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>William puffed slowly and seriously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's going ter be a good season for
-deer," he said.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I hope so," exclaimed
-Mrs. Bunker.  "I promised those
-Englishmen good hunting."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If they come, there'll be good
-hunting, Grandma Chazy," said
-Indiana, moving close to her, and looking
-significantly into her eyes.  Mrs. Bunker
-laughed vivaciously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ther' comin' down ter drink,"
-volunteered William.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Already!" exclaimed Indiana, with
-a laughing glance at Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Waal, thar' ain't bin no rain ter
-speak of—the springs is dryin' up on
-the mauntings."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Y—es!" corroborated Haller,
-joining them with Mrs. Stillwater.  "Ther
-comin' down ter the lakes."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor things!" said Mrs. Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you pity them, Grandma
-Chazy?" whispered Indiana, "I don't
-mean the deer."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not I," said Mrs. Bunker.  "Wholesale
-slaughter isn't the word."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen joined them soon after their
-arrival, but not before Indiana had
-written him a special letter inviting him
-to come.  He had a certain pride where
-she was concerned.  They roamed the
-woods together, renewing acquaintance
-with all their old haunts, or rowed and
-fished on the lake for hours with Haller
-and William.  Mrs. Bunker and her
-daughter did not share their enthusiasm
-for these sports.  They enjoyed the lake
-only in pleasant weather, when they
-made trips in "The Indiana" with a
-guide.  Sometimes they were met at
-the landing by the comfortable and airy
-mountain wagon and the fresh mountain
-ponies, to take them for one of the
-beautiful drives in which that county
-abounded.  Occasionally, Indiana and
-Glen would join them, changing off
-with the reins.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like to write to the Smiths,"
-said Mrs. Bunker, one morning.  "I
-promised to invite them up here.  But
-you're so half-hearted about it, Indiana.
-All you care for is to roam about with
-Glen."  She was standing on the
-balcony of the boat-house, and did not see
-Glen below on the dock.  He smiled
-grimly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't blame her for one,
-Mrs. Bunker," he called up, good
-humoredly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana laughed.  She was sitting in
-a boat.  After having assumed several
-positions in order to ship water, she was
-now very busy bailing it out with a large
-sponge.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No offense, Glen," said Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"None whatever," returned Glen,
-emerging, and bowing elaborately.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The two of you are like a couple of
-Indians," she continued.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Here's Haller with the mail," cried
-Indiana.  He rowed swiftly towards
-them in a light, narrow guide-boat.
-Indiana took the letters.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I brought a letter for yer," shouted
-Haller to Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then why didn't you deliver it?"
-answered Mrs. Bunker sharply.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">She</em><span> tuk it," he answered, chuckling.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana stood up in the boat,
-balancing herself admirably, and flung the
-letter to Mrs. Bunker, then sat down
-examining the other letters and papers
-in her lap.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing for you, Glen."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He overturned a boat and seated
-himself upon it, smoking a pipe.  Naturally
-dark, he was burnt several shades darker,
-from his hair to the loose, open collar of
-his flannel shirt.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're sitting right in the water,
-Indiana.  Your feet must be soaking
-wet.  Your mother ought to see you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana looked at him with a laugh.
-He remembered her blue eyes had
-given him that same arch glance as a
-child, when he had discovered her in
-some act of mischief.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You always liked to put your feet in
-the puddles," he said.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I always had a passion for
-puddles.  As Grandma Chazy would say,
-'it'll bode me no good, some day.'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's from Lord Stafford," cried Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed!" said Indiana, affecting an
-English accent.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll be with us in a few days, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Charmed!" said Indiana, standing
-up in the boat, and screwing up her face
-in imitation of Lord Stafford with his
-monocle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen laughed heartily at the expense
-of Mrs. Bunker's English friends.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's great, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You little rogue," cried Mrs. Bunker,
-"I won't have you ridicule my friends.
-Oh, I'm so delighted.  You'll find them
-lovely company."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ya—a—as," drawled Indiana, with
-a bored expression, "delighted, I'm—"
-the rest was finished in the water, the
-boat capsizing suddenly.  Indiana was
-near enough to the dock to throw out
-an arm to Glen, and he drew her up
-laughing, but drenched.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I knew you'd do it, Indiana," cried
-Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana, still clinging to Glen, as the
-dock was slippery, smiled faintly, putting
-her hand to her side.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You didn't hurt yourself, did you,
-Indiana?" said Glen, anxiously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I twisted my side a little—I wanted
-to save myself, as I fell—that's all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What did she do, Glen?" called
-Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen lifted her up in his arms, and
-carried her up to the camp.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It was a punishment for making fun
-of people, wasn't it, Glen?" she said,
-lifting her little wet face from his breast.
-"Serves me right, don't it, Glen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, dear," he said, tenderly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She tightened her arms about his neck.
-"You always took care of me, Glen,"
-she said, childishly.  His heart beat
-violently against the little soaking bundle.
-It was on his lips to say, "I always will,
-if you'll only let me, Indiana."  But he
-refrained.  Still, as he climbed, he felt
-he was mounting the goal where his
-heart could rest.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Stillwater ran anxiously to meet them.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's nothing, Mary," cried
-Mrs. Bunker, "she was cutting up some of
-her pranks, and fell into the water."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just rub her side," said Glen,
-delivering his burden, "she sprained it a
-little, falling, and put some dry clothes
-on her.  You feel all right, don't you,
-Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Glen; thank you," said Indiana, meekly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker often remarked, "Indiana's
-always good, when she's sick."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Indiana," said that lady, after
-her granddaughter had been duly dried
-and dressed.  "Shall I read you the rest
-of the letter?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Indiana, lying on a couch
-before the fire.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"'We have enjoyed our tour
-exceedingly.  My nephew has accumulated
-much information which will prove of
-scientific value—'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, he's that sort, is he?" said
-Glen, who was seated in a niche by the
-fire.  He rose, knocking the ashes from
-his pipe, and sauntered out on the balcony.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jealous already!" said Mrs. Bunker.
-Indiana laughed, looking into the fire.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on with the letter, Grandma Chazy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen looked up into the giant balsam.
-A chipmunk sat on one of the branches,
-watching him.  It was one which he
-and Indiana had succeeded in making
-quite tame.  He searched in his pocket
-for a nut.  "Chip, chip, chip!" he
-called, holding out his hand.  Indiana's
-words echoed in his ears.  "You always
-took care of me, Glen," with all the
-innocent trust that they conveyed.  "She's
-known me all her life," he thought,
-"there's no going against that.  Now
-these Englishmen will come and spoil
-everything."  He puffed savagely on
-his pipe, still holding out the nut to the
-chipmunk, who approached nearer and
-nearer.  "I'll have to take a back seat,
-now, I suppose.  I guess I'll get out of
-the way, altogether, for a little while.
-That'll suit me better."  He caught
-sight of Haller, below, planting ferns.
-"Halloa!" he called.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Haller regarded him interrogatively.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Any guides at liberty?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Haller pulled thoughtfully on his pipe.
-Meanwhile the chipmunk grabbed the
-nut, and disappeared.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Little rascal," said Glen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thar's Burt."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell him I want him for a week or two."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The morning of the day when Mrs. Bunker
-expected her guests, Glen signified
-his intention of a temporary departure.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, you are not going to leave us,
-Glen?" asked Mrs. Stillwater, innocently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'm just going off for a little sport."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And when will you be back, Glen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'll be back in a week or so."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it's real mean of you, Glen,"
-said Indiana, pouting, "just as we're
-expecting company, and men, too—and
-Pa isn't here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, there won't be any deficiency.
-Mrs. Bunker will see to that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're right!  There won't be any
-deficiency," and she added sweetly,
-"though I don't like to see you go."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Mrs. Bunker.  Here's
-Burt for me, now."  Burt was a blonde,
-stalwart young fellow, about Glen's
-own age.  He rowed swiftly toward the
-boat-house, smoking the inevitable pipe.
-When he landed, he strapped one of
-those deep baskets the guides carry for
-provisions, on his back, and climbed up
-to the camp.  Mrs. Stillwater hurried
-down to the kitchen, to assure herself
-that Glen was well provided for on his trip.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They all descended to the lake to see
-him go.  When Indiana saw the
-accoutrements for departure; the fishing
-tackle, guns, and tent rigging, she
-commenced to envy the two young fellows
-going off together, and felt rather ill
-used to be left behind, to do the tame
-work of entertaining.  Glen read her
-face, and was inwardly delighted.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We're going to have a rare, good
-time, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe you," said Indiana, ruefully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think there'll be enough
-provisions, Glen?" inquired Mrs. Stillwater,
-anxiously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen laughed.  The laugh was echoed
-by Haller and William, who were assisting
-in the ceremony of seeing the young
-men off.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll have plenty of game, and
-Burt's as fine as any French cook."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Burt took his pipe from his mouth
-with a flattered smile and a blush.  He
-was as shy as some young girls.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll feed on the delicacies of the
-season.  And there's the canned stuff,
-which we'll reserve for emergencies."  He
-grasped Mrs. Stillwater's hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you be afraid, Mrs. Stillwater.
-We won't starve."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, he won't starve, ma'am.  I'll
-see to that," said Burt.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"When we're hungry, we'll come
-home."  They both laughed heartily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think there'll be good sport,
-Burt?" said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Burt, sitting in the boat, arranging his
-paraphernalia, looked at her admiringly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There'll be sport," he replied.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Glen; are you going to take
-your mandolin?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not?  It'll cheer us up nights,
-by the fire."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Burt grinned in visible delight.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I won't say good-bye for such
-a short time."  He shook them all by
-the hand.  "Take care of yourselves."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, Glen—no, I won't say
-good-bye.  I hope you'll have a good
-time, and come home safe."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Indiana."  He waved
-his hat to all and jumped into the boat.
-Haller pushed them off.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana ran down to the end of the
-dock and threw her arms out to Glen.
-"Oh, take me along!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Burt stopped rowing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," said Glen, "there's room
-for you; will you come?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll take care of her, Mrs. Stillwater;
-won't we, Burt?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, of course," said Burt.  "She
-won't starve—I'll see to that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Be off, the pair of you!" cried
-Mrs. Bunker.  Burt took the oars again,
-laughing, while Glen flourished his cap,
-looking at Indiana, and Haller and
-William shouted sportsman's jokes from
-the shore.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There they go," said Indiana,
-waving her handkerchief.  She then sat
-down on the dock, watching the boat
-grow smaller and smaller.  The strains
-of the mandolin floated to them over
-the water.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, you look as though you
-hadn't a friend left.  If I thought as
-much of a person as that, I wouldn't
-let him out of my sight."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Grandma Chazy, Glen's my best friend."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And look at your mother!  She's
-actually crying."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I hated to see him going off
-like that—I—I'm so fond of him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ma's a good soul," cried Indiana,
-jumping up and throwing herself into
-Mrs. Stillwater's arms.  "Yes, she is."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I am not disputing that, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He was so set on going," said
-Mrs. Stillwater, holding Indiana to her.  "I
-think it was because of those Englishmen.
-He don't like strangers."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A pity about him," retorted Mrs. Bunker,
-sharply.  "Does he want to
-monopolize Indiana altogether?  He
-went because he might be of some use
-for once.  He could have livened things
-up a little nights with his mandolin, but
-I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of
-saying so.  Well, I'm just as well
-pleased.  He might have been
-unmannerly or bearish."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not Glen!" said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, </span><em class="italics">Glen</em><span>," repeated Mrs. Bunker,
-imitating her.  Haller, who was washing
-out "The Indiana" and observing at
-the same time, gave vent to a long
-guffaw.  Mrs. Bunker looked at him
-crossly.  "I can't bear that Haller,"
-she said, as they climbed up to the
-camp.  "He's always making faces at me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"When you think he's making faces,
-he's only smiling, I tell you," said
-Indiana.  "He's a fine guide; what more
-do you want?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Wear your red dress to-night,
-Indiana," said Mrs. Bunker, ignoring this
-last remark.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think white is so much prettier for
-a young girl," suggested Mrs. Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that's the conventional thing,"
-said Mrs. Bunker.  "Well, let her look
-like a bread and butter miss—I have no
-objection."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want to look like a bread
-and butter miss," interrupted Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Wear what your mother wishes, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'm satisfied with anything,"
-apologetically murmured Mrs. Stillwater.
-"Let the child please herself."  She
-looked questioningly at her daughter.
-The latter, looking very self-important,
-declined to commit herself just then.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Take your finger out of your mouth,
-Indiana," said Mrs. Bunker, sharply.
-"It's time you stopped that baby habit."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana, whenever she was making a
-decision of any kind, still put her finger
-in her mouth as a help to thought.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Later, in her granddaughter's room,
-Mrs. Bunker said in the voice of an
-oracle.  "Take my advice and wear
-your red silk, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He won't think it's loud?" asked Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're too much of a child to look
-loud in anything.  But it will be so
-effective and a little audacious.  That's
-what takes.  He'll be sure to </span><em class="italics">see</em><span> you in
-that dress."  And, as she went, she
-fired a last injunction, "wear your red
-silk; it'll hit him right in the eye."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="guests"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Guests</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Meanwhile the travellers were
-approaching their destination.
-They had compared the Hudson River
-with the Thames and the Rhine, and
-were now watching the forest tracts and
-the streams choked with logs awaiting
-the elements.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Uncle Nelson," said Lord Canning,
-"this is the first time in my rememberance
-that I have visited people I did not
-know well, in a country I have never seen."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford glanced sleepily at his
-nephew from under his tweed travelling
-cap.  They were in the smoking car.
-"There's a charm about everything
-fresh and new," he murmured.  "That's
-what you're always saying, Thurston."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There certainly is," said the other,
-eagerly.  "I realize it in this fresh,
-young, healthy country.  It has given
-me many new sensations.  I felt quite
-old when I first came here—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Old!" repeated Lord Stafford.  "You?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just turned forty, my hair commencing
-to grey."  Lord Canning laughed,
-and then sighed.  "Yes," he continued,
-smoking thoughtfully, "there is nothing
-like fresh scenes.  They give new food
-for the mind—another impetus to life—a
-man like myself needs such a stimulus—if
-I should continue to rust in England,
-I would shortly become—antiquated.
-Do you notice that the trees are for the
-most part conical in shape, Uncle Nelson?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You always were a restless character,
-Thurston."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nature designed me for an explorer."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll never be satisfied until you
-undertake that expedition to the pole—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Never—unless—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Unless what?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A new interest should arise in my
-life—necessarily something very absorbing."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know of nothing, except—perhaps—a
-woman.  And as for that, every
-mamma in England has despaired of you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning laughed heartily, and
-his uncle yawned and closed his eyes,
-considering he had satisfactorily
-disposed of the subject.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We are strangers to our host,"
-recommenced Lord Canning, after a short
-survey of the vanishing prospect.  "The
-invitation was necessarily off-hand, but
-very hearty."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They do everything in an off-hand
-way, over here," said Lord Stafford,
-"at least, so it seems to me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We have been travelling too much
-to judge very correctly of manners and
-customs," answered his nephew.  "And
-have we met the entire family?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe so."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker!" exclaimed Lord
-Stafford, sitting up and rubbing his
-eyes.  "Isn't she a lively woman?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. and Mrs. Stillwater and daughter."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The little girl," said Lord Stafford,
-sinking back on the cushions, "the
-little, blonde girl, who had plenty to
-say for herself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She did not really say so much,"
-returned Lord Canning, taking out
-another cigar.  "It was how she said it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, she conveyed the impression
-that she was not backward," remarked
-Lord Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way, Uncle," the younger
-man lit his cigar, laughing amusedly.
-"Did I ever tell you of a peculiar dream
-I once had?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dream?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"About Miss Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you been dreaming about that
-little girl?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't I tell you?  I thought I had."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha!  You've been dreaming
-about little Miss Stillwater—that's rich."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, wait until you hear it.  Then
-you'll have good reason to laugh.  It
-was quite too absurd."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The night before we started for the
-West—the night we met Mrs. Bunker
-at the Waldorf Hotel, in New York—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker—one never knows
-what that woman is going to say
-next—she is so—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She introduced us to the family, and
-Miss Stillwater and I had some
-conversation—not much, but quite enough, as
-you will see—about bears."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Bears?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She had been used to shooting
-them, in the Rocky Mountains."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The little girl—the blonde one?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The little blonde one," repeated
-Lord Canning, with a softer intonation.
-"Well, I dreamt I saw her riding on
-the back of a grizzly, over the highest
-peak of the Rocky Mountains.  She was
-in full evening dress, and on seeing me,
-she hilariously waved a bunch of
-hyacinths—she carried those flowers the
-night I met her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker had carnations—I took
-one—ha, ha, ha!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I was on my knees examining strata.
-When I saw the lady riding towards
-me, I rose and bowed profoundly.  But
-she returned my polite salute by
-throwing her bouquet directly in my face—I
-felt the blow, I smelt the hyacinths—then
-I awoke—before the lady apologized,
-allowing that she had that
-intention.  It was all so absurd and
-incongruous, and yet so distinct.  Miss
-Stillwater looked as natural as life, and
-sat the bear in such a graceful fashion—she
-might have been riding a finely bred
-horse in Hyde Park."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford, listening with closed
-eyes, made an articulate noise.  Whether
-it was expressive of wonder, disbelief,
-or ridicule, it was difficult to say.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But what I consider most remarkable,
-is that I saw the Rockies very much
-as I saw them in reality, later on.  I
-explain this on the score of—suggestion.
-Miss Stillwater has spent some time in
-the Rockies.  Naturally, our conversation
-recalled them to her mind, and
-she, of course, unconsciously suggested
-them to me.  It was quite—psychic."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nightmare," murmured Lord Stafford,
-sleepily, "what did you eat for supper?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," said Lord Canning,
-disgustedly.  "Don't attribute
-everything to what one eats."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You will, when you're my age.  Now
-it's 'suggestion', and 'quite psychic.'  If
-that little, dainty, yellow-haired Miss
-Assurance had been an unattractive,
-elderly person, she wouldn't have
-suggested a pin's worth to you—beyond the
-fact that she was ugly.  I must say, I
-never heard you go on like that before,
-Thurston."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on like </span><em class="italics">what</em><span>?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, about your dreams.  Only old
-women tell their dreams.  Ha, ha, ha!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You are quite mistaken, Uncle
-Nelson, dreams have been made the
-subject of scientific research."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, poppycock!  You'll be telling
-fortunes in a tea cup next, ha, ha, ha!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad you are amused, Uncle Nelson."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am—it's rich—ha, ha, ha, ha!—Ha,
-ha, ha, ha!  Thurston, will you
-oblige me, and tell when there's anything
-to look at beside these interminable
-forests?  I'm going to nap a little."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning resumed his watch at
-the window.  "Beautiful forests," he
-thought, "for the most part untouched
-and untrammelled.  We seem to be
-plunging deeper and deeper into a
-virgin region.  I feel strangely expectant,
-as though something were awaiting me
-there.  Something that I have hitherto
-missed in my life—my sober, colorless
-life—awaiting me there.  If I should
-tell Uncle Nelson this, he would ask
-me what I had eaten for lunch."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>In a little while he became conscious
-that the train was slackening speed and
-felt the exhilaration, of most people, at
-the idea of being transported higher
-than the ordinary level.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Uncle Nelson!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There is something else."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Clouds—ha, ha, ha, ha!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford looked disgustedly out
-at the scurrying white masses.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you want h'anything, your Lordship?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's about time you showed up, Flash.
-Unstrap that plaid—it's beastly cold."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It h'is, your Lordship—compared
-to the 'eat in New York," carefully
-tucking Lord Stafford into the plaid.
-Flash was a young fellow, of the
-ordinary English cockney type.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The train labored on painfully up
-into the heart of the mountains.  Lord
-Stafford slept while his nephew smoked
-and mused, watching the clouds, barely
-perceptible now in the fading light.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They felt a jerk, the train stopped
-suddenly.  Flash put his head in, "We're
-a h'our and a 'alf late, your Lordship.
-We won't h'arrive until h'eight o'clock."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What an infernal nuisance."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"H'any h'orders, your Lordship?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Get out!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When they finally arrived it was
-pitch black night, no moon nor stars.
-The rude little station was lit by torches
-flaming in the mist and wind.  Beyond,
-impenetrable darkness.  A storm was
-brewing over the mountains.  Haller's
-face, as he greeted the travellers with
-one of his contortions, looked weird in
-the torchlight.  They followed him out
-to the wagon, in which they sank with a
-sigh of relief.  The trip, with the delay,
-had been tedious.  Haller whipped the
-ponies up briskly.  The wagon careered
-recklessly from side to side as they drove,
-and the wind drove the mist into their
-faces.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose you know your road, my
-good man?" said Lord Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's no risk of falling over a
-precipice or anything of that kind, is
-there?  It's so confoundedly black."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Haller chuckled.  "Them ponies
-know the're way—the've been bred up
-in these parts.  I'd trust them sooner'n
-myself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed!" said Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is this our destination?" asked Lord
-Stafford, as they stopped at the landing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, we ain't no ways near thar yet,"
-said Haller, with another chuckle.  He
-raised a lantern and showed them "The
-Indiana" waiting at the dock, the lake
-lapping against her sides.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Must we get in that?" said Stafford,
-peering out into the darkness of the lake.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Waal, yes; if you want ter go to
-Camp Indiana.  It's at the far end of
-the lake."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Camp Indiana!" repeated Lord
-Canning to himself.  "After </span><em class="italics">her</em><span>, of
-course.  They have a curious faculty
-over here, of naming people after places
-and </span><em class="italics">vice versa</em><span>."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What sort of a boat is this 'ere, my
-man?" asked Flash, after they were
-installed and on their way.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Naptha launch."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No danger of explosion?" he asked, cheerily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Waal, yer never can tell—yer never
-can tell."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning laughed heartily.  As
-they puffed along, the wind commenced
-to wail dismally, echoed by the
-mountains, until it seemed as though a pack
-of wild beasts were howling in the night.
-At intervals a camp fire enlivened the
-prospect, blazing cheerily down on the
-shore.  The shadow-dance of the flames
-on the water, together with the outlines
-of human forms feeding the fire,
-produced a fantastic effect on the travellers.
-At Camp Indiana an enormous fire had
-been kindled to welcome the guests.
-The boat-house was lit up with different
-colored lanterns.  Haller shouted as they
-passed in the dock, and was answered
-by William, who hurried down and
-assisted the disembarking.  Haller,
-holding the lantern, lit them up to the camp.
-A flood of light streamed from the open
-door, in which Mrs. Bunker stood.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, here you are at last—so glad
-to see you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She shook hands with them vigorously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My man Flash," said Lord Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Kitty, show Mr. Flash the
-gentlemen's rooms.  What a nuisance the
-train was late.  The world stops when
-one comes up here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Stillwater met them in the hall.
-"I'm so pleased you have come," she
-said in her soft gracious voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Mrs. Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you do, Lord Canning?"
-said Indiana with a hearty shake of the
-hand.  "Too bad the train was late.
-It's what you must expect in these
-primitive parts."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning looked about him, receiving
-the impression of warmth, light
-and luxury, but no sign of primitiveness.
-Coming out of the darkness and the
-wind, into the brilliant hall, he was a
-little dazzled, and for the moment was
-at a loss for something to say to Indiana.
-He stared at the brilliant little figure
-standing near the fire, the flames
-reflecting red lights from her dress on her
-laughing face and her yellow hair, with
-the Persian rug for a background.  "An
-Arabian night's vision," he thought.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a tedious trip," said Indiana.
-"You must be starved to death."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am so interested in my surroundings,
-that I can plead no sense of
-fatigue," answered Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This is a jolly fire," said Lord
-Stafford.  "It's like a glimpse of heaven
-here, after that awful black night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker shortly led the way to
-the dining room, where a shaded red
-drop-light threw a rosy glow on the
-well-equipped table, upon which reposed a
-centrepiece of wild ferns.  The easy,
-natural manner of the hostesses soon
-made their guests feel perfectly at home.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't hesitate to smoke, gentlemen!"
-exclaimed Mrs. Bunker, after
-dinner.  "This is Liberty Hall."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We didn't expect this, Mrs. Bunker,"
-said Lord Stafford, as they walked
-through the rooms, "when you invited
-us to 'rough it' with you in the woods."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I assure you, Lord Stafford, that we
-consider this camping out," laughed
-Mrs. Bunker.  "Now which chair are
-you going to take?  This one is
-comfortable.  Place it near the fire."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very artistic and most original,"
-said Lord Canning, surveying his
-surroundings.  "I have never seen
-anything like it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was a note of simplicity in all
-this luxury, even to the dress of the
-ladies, which struck him agreeably.
-Indiana sat in the midst of the group,
-talking and laughing unreservedly.
-Lord Canning, leaning back in a large
-armchair smoking his cigar, listened
-attentively, trying to find some clue to
-her character in the careless words.
-He finally realized this was foolish.
-She was evidently little more than a
-child, with no deep realization of life, as
-yet; a child with her own charm.  There
-was no doubt of that.  He gazed deeper
-and deeper into the fire.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Canning, you are so absorbed
-in the fire the rest of us might be
-jealous," said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no occasion for jealousy,"
-he answered, looking directly at her.
-"But the fire is certainly fascinating—and
-productive of thought.  I have a
-recollection of another, outside, which
-welcomed us very cheerfully, when we
-arrived.  Is it still burning?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh yes," said Indiana, "our camp
-fire is still burning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to see it, may I?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," said Indiana rising,
-"Lord Stafford, are you also curious?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh Miss Stillwater, I'm so comfortable,
-don't ask me to go out again! this
-is such a charming fire.  Now
-Mrs. Bunker, let me poke it.  This is the way
-we do it in England."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Run along, Indiana," said Mrs. Bunker,
-sweetly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Without, the night was still black, but
-the storm had not yet broken.  The
-fire down on the shore lit up the lake
-and the boat-house.  Haller and
-William were throwing on logs, and in the
-red glare Kitty could be seen standing,
-talking volubly to Flash, who listened
-with deferential interest.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The boat-house looks very pretty in
-this light," said Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's such a cozy room in it with
-a fire," asserted Indiana.  "We've had
-rare, old times there.  We go down
-nights, and make things in chafing
-dishes."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What a novel idea!  And is there a
-fire burning there now?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes!  The guides keep the fires
-always going—when it's cold."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to see this cozy room,
-where you make things in chafing
-dishes.  May I?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly.  Be careful, Lord Canning!
-It's pitch dark, and you don't
-know the way!  There!  I knew you'd
-stumble—you'd better take my hand."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I really think I had better,"
-said Lord Canning, helplessly.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-weaver"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Weaver</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The storm spent its full force in the
-night.  The wind raged in the
-clearings and upon the lakes.  But
-Camp Indiana, sheltered by the woods,
-heard nothing of the angry elements
-beyond the continuous sighing of the
-trees, which, when the wind was most
-fierce, grew into a painful sobbing
-whisper.  The pines of the North Woods
-sing varied harmonies, always in a minor
-key; sometimes, it is a sacred anthem,
-sometimes a tragic prophecy, sometimes
-a death chant and sometimes a sad lullaby,
-such as a bereaved wife might croon
-to her child.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When the guests emerged upon the
-balcony in the morning the clouds still
-shrouded the mountains and the lake.
-There was nothing to be seen but a
-white mist.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We are literally in the clouds," said
-Lord Canning pacing the balcony.
-"But what a soft rare air, and that
-strong odor of pine; it is most
-exhilarating."  He drew a deep breath.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What a magnificent tree," said Lord
-Stafford.  "They've built it into the
-balcony.  Look, Thurston!  Isn't that
-a unique idea?"  He bent over until his
-body was half in the tree.  "By George,
-there's a chipmunk!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Balsam!" exclaimed Lord Canning,
-examining a branch.  He ascended the
-steps looking up at the tree.
-"Magnificent!  A natural ornament!  What a
-novel thought to make it a part of the
-house.  I am reminded of the roof-tree
-of olden times, Uncle Nelson."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite so!" said Lord Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look!" continued his nephew.
-"The clouds are rising—slowly.  There
-is the lake!  How blue, and what beautiful
-slopes—how rich in foliage.  Such a
-contrast in greens; the vivid emerald
-of the maple trees, with the dark shade
-of the hemlock and other pine varieties—there
-is no green like theirs—and that
-faint, very faint touch of red, here and
-there—a foretaste of Autumn.  Look at
-those wild crags, with the trees rooted
-in their clefts!  This is a panorama of
-clouds.  How systematically they rise,
-one veil after the other.  The mountains
-are just becoming perceptible—do
-you see their shadowy outline behind
-that last thin veil?  It is rising—slowly—slowly.
-Little fragments of mist are
-floating everywhere.  Upon my word,
-it is quite unreal—like a dream scene."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha!  I'd advise you not to
-broach the subject of dreams again."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Charming!  The dark, rich blue of
-those mountains, with the little mists
-curling upon them, here and there.
-That low cloud on the lake here, has
-remained stationary.  Ah, now it is
-rising.  Uncle Nelson, do you see anything?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning had suddenly discerned
-in the mist, the phantom outline of a
-female figure kneeling in a canoe.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, by George!  Do you think it
-could be a peculiar form taken by the
-mist?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Either that—or—it might be the
-spirit of some unhappy Indian maiden,
-a heroine of one of the legends of this
-region.  Ah, the sun is coming out—now
-we shall see her disappear!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>On the contrary, the sun striking
-through the mist revealed Indiana
-paddling a red canoe.  Bareheaded, the
-sleeves of her red blouse rolled above
-the elbow, the sun caught her in a
-sudden flash of scarlet and gold, so that
-she seemed an apotheosis in the cloud,
-of Lord Canning's Indian maiden.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's Miss Stillwater!" cried his
-uncle.  "Ha, ha, ha—you with your
-dreams and your Indian maidens."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning rubbed his eyes,
-watching Indiana paddle toward the
-boathouse with swift, unerring strokes.  "Let
-us go down and meet her!" he said.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, gentlemen!" exclaimed
-Mrs. Bunker, joining them, as
-they descended.  "How did you sleep
-last night?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Extremely well, thank you, my dear
-lady," answered Lord Stafford.  "I
-cannot speak for my nephew, he is
-addicted to dreams.  Ha, ha, ha.  That
-sort of sleeper is always rather restless.
-Don't you think so, Mrs. Bunker?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This," said Lord Canning, indicating
-the prospect, "is very charming,
-quite unique in its way.  I really cannot
-remember seeing anything like it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford slipped.  "Be careful,
-Lord Stafford.  It's the pine needles.
-They fall year after year.  You see how
-soft and yielding they make the ground.
-But it's slippery on an incline."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They reached the boat-house in time
-to see Indiana jump from her canoe.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"An extremely picturesque little
-craft," said Lord Canning, after they
-had exchanged the morning greetings.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Birch bark," said Indiana.
-"There's another here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, a white one.  But this red canoe
-is very effective on the lake.  We were
-quite startled, when you first appeared.
-Were we not, Uncle?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha, ha.  My nephew thought
-you were the spirit of some Indian
-maiden, who had died a tragic death."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You glided out of the mist in such a
-wraith-like fashion," said Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There was an Indian maiden"—</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, keep those ghost stories for the
-camp fire, Indiana!  Before breakfast
-is no time for them."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't forget, please, Miss Stillwater!"
-said Lord Canning.  "Positively
-at the camp fire to-night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"At the camp fire to-night," repeated
-Indiana, in a tragic voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Indiana can tell you any number
-of legends about these parts.  She
-picks them up from the guides," said
-Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am always interested in the legends
-of a country.  There is so much to be
-gleaned from them."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly, Lord Canning," said Mrs. Bunker.
-"That's what I think."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall look forward to hearing them
-all, Miss Stillwater," said Lord Canning,
-"by the camp fire of course.  Every
-night a story."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Like Scheherezade in the Arabian
-Nights," said Indiana, "amusing the
-sultan to save her head."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha, ha.  Quite so, Miss
-Stillwater," laughed Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But I don't think my stories would
-last a hundred and one nights, Lord
-Canning," replied Indiana, putting her
-hands behind her back, and meeting his
-persistent gaze mischievously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Too bad," he answered, contemplatively.
-"I should hate to cut off that
-head.  Don't you know anything else
-appropriate for a camp fire, which
-might serve to amuse me, and prolong
-your life.  Can you tell fortunes?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Indiana's great at that!" said
-Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good—by cards or consulting the palm?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Both!" said Indiana promptly.
-"Learned it from the girls at school.  I
-can also tell your fortune in a tea cup."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, you must initiate me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha, ha—I prophesied you'd
-come to it—telling fortunes in a tea cup.
-That's rich.  Mrs. Bunker, I'll explain
-to you—later!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What does he mean?" asked Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll tell you by the camp fire, Miss
-Stillwater.  Can you interpret dreams?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford laughed with intense
-enjoyment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have a dream book, I'll study it up."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, in view of your many accomplishments,
-your head will be quite safe."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How about yours?" she said, shyly,
-bending down to take her jacket from
-the canoe.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha!  Quite so, Miss Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not sure about mine," he
-answered, smiling.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And if you lose it?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The Sultan will meet his fate
-philosophically, repeating, 'Kismet, and Allah
-is wise, saith the Prophet.'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Breakfast is served," exclaimed
-Kitty, running breathlessly into the
-boat-house.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You must be hungry," said Mrs. Bunker.
-"You were up so early.  Indiana
-rises at an unearthly hour, here.
-She's on the lake at six, sometimes."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not be surprised if you should
-see me also at that unearthly hour, Miss
-Stillwater.  I, too, have a passion for early
-rising, in a place like this!  There are
-some beautiful boats here!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, this is a St. Lawrence.  I
-always take ma out in that.  She likes
-it, because it's steady.  But it don't run
-like this one—this is my pet.  A real
-Adirondack cedar wood."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana," read Lord Canning.
-"Everything here is named after you.
-You're the prevailing spirit of the place.
-Will you take me out on the lake after
-breakfast, and teach me how to manage
-an Adirondack boat?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This is a dangerous lake, Lord
-Canning," said Mrs. Bunker.  "You
-wouldn't think so, to look at it now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning turned and glanced at
-the beautiful vista of the lake, sparkling,
-blue and serene, between the mountains.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A squall can come up, any minute—a
-regular tornado—and blow you and
-your shell of a boat to Jericho."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And what would you do, Miss Stillwater,"
-asked Lord Canning, in visible
-alarm, "if you were out in your little
-canoe, and were caught in one of these
-sudden squalls?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Head for the shore.  Besides, I'm a swimmer."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you?"  She looked very young
-to him, standing there in her little, short
-skirt and loose blouse, her hair blowing
-about in the breeze, which came freshly
-over the lake.  Younger, even, than
-when he had first seen her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Lord Stafford," said Mrs. Bunker,
-after breakfast.  "You, my
-daughter, and myself, will take a trip in
-'The Indiana.'  The horses will be
-waiting at the landing, and after we
-have explored the lake, I think we'll
-have time for a short drive.  Will that
-program suit you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha!  Everything that you
-arrange is bound to be delightful, Mrs. Bunker."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll leave the young people to
-their own devices.  Lord Canning is so
-bent on learning to row an Adirondack
-boat."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha!  Yes, Mrs. Bunker."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a dangerous lake, Lord Stafford—I
-warned him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You did, Mrs. Bunker—your conscience
-can rest easily."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I feel I'm taking an advantage, Miss
-Stillwater," said Lord Canning, lounging
-comfortably in the bow of Indiana's pet
-boat, "to sit here and let you do all the
-work.  Let me take the oars.  I have
-been watching you closely—I think you
-can trust me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down!" commanded Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me, what have I done?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You can't change places in an
-Adirondack boat, in the middle of the lake.
-It would tip over, and we'd both flop
-in."  She laughed merrily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Her laugh has the vital ring of
-youth," thought Lord Canning.  "I
-might learn to laugh like that again, if
-she would teach me—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen and I have often tried it, just for
-devilment, but then Glen is more used to
-these boats than you, Lord Canning—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I forgot.  I think everyone
-knows Glen—everyone does in America,
-who happens to know us.  He's one of
-the family."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A relative?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a relative, and one of the
-family," thought Lord Canning.  "Young,
-old or middle aged?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen's only twenty-four and
-handsome as a picture."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Only twenty-four, and handsome as
-a picture," thought Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Wouldn't you like to smoke, Lord
-Canning?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's something of the witch
-about you, Miss Stillwater.  That's just
-what I'm longing to do.  You are sure
-you don't mind?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana shook her head.  Her cheeks
-were glowing, her eyes sparkling from
-the exercise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's very good of you, Miss
-Stillwater."  He lit his cigar leisurely, then
-leaned back with a long sigh of content.
-"You're a splendid oarswoman, Miss
-Stillwater; such long, graceful strokes.
-That splash of color here and there in
-the woods—it's most effective—especially,
-when it's reflected in the lake—like
-this branch—look—we are just nearing
-it—how gracefully it droops over the
-water.  It's most delightful here—near
-the shore—let us linger a little
-while—do you mind?  There's no occasion for
-this terrific speed, is there?  That's
-better—now we are merely gliding.
-Lean back, Miss Stillwater!  Won't you
-have this pillow?  Are you quite
-comfortable?  Are you sure you are quite
-comfortable?  These Adirondack oars
-are very convenient—just let them
-swing—I see—and take them up when you
-are ready.  A stroke or two, now and
-then, will be quite sufficient to send us
-along—not yet—don't disturb yourself.
-No, we will not run into anything—I'll
-see to that—you look very nice lying
-there.  The water is like a perfect
-mirror here, under the trees—every leaf
-and twig is reflected—beautiful—so
-restful—I could drift like this—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought so," cried Indiana jumping up.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me, what is the matter?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We're caught in a tree!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why so we are—be careful—that
-branch will strike your face—I think I
-can reach it—a most obstinate branch—it
-persists in bending your way.  Well,
-I can't blame it—there—how ever did
-this occur?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why—you insisted on my leaving
-everything to you—I yielded from pure
-amiability—but I foresaw what would
-happen, because you hadn't the slightest
-idea where you were drifting."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But I know quite well, where I'm
-drifting—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then how were we caught in this tree?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, that's another story—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You were certainly not looking ahead."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then where was I looking?  You
-ought to know."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You were lying back with your
-hands clasped behind your head, saying,
-'I could go on like this forever,' or
-something to that effect, and we went
-plump into the tree."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor Miss Stillwater—I'm a great
-trial—you'll never take me out again,
-will you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I won't say that—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm so glad you didn't.  I think it's
-rather a novel sensation to be caught in
-a tree."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything is a sensation to you,
-Lord Canning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha, ha.  When you are my
-age, Miss Stillwater, you will also
-appreciate a new sensation.  May I ask
-the object of those violent efforts?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Canning—do you realize
-you're on the tree as well as in it.
-There's an immense branch extending
-under the water, and with our combined
-weight we won't get off in a hurry."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is the hurry—there are no
-trains to be caught, I believe."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but I wanted to show you the
-lake this morning—that would be
-something.  There is so much for you
-to do and see."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Restless little American spirit," said
-Lord Canning.  "Now if you will hand
-me that oar—although I appreciate your
-anxiety to show me everything without
-delay—I, with my slow English methods—prefer
-to take things by degrees—if
-you have no objection, Miss Stillwater;
-I am enjoying this immensely."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Really," said Indiana doubtfully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I give you my word.  Now let me
-have things my own way.  There's no
-necessity to show me the whole lake at
-once.  I would rather prolong the
-pleasure—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We're off!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Slowly, Miss Stillwater! we're drifting
-once more.  Ah, look at this giant
-rock looming above us; how dark and
-grim—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's called the 'Devil's Pulpit.'  The
-water right here is five hundred
-feet deep."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And a moment ago it was quite
-shallow.  How black and impenetrable—'The
-Devil's Pulpit.'  I think I can
-sniff an odor of sulphur.  Five hundred
-feet deep.  How quickly the shallows
-change to the depths—how quickly—don't
-hurry—what a gruesome spot.
-Just the place for a ghost story—that
-Indian maiden we were talking of this
-morning—will she do?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, there was a certain tribe—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Pardon me, Miss Stillwater.  I forgot
-that story had already been reserved for
-the camp fire.  Everything in its place."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How systematic—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't believe in taking all the good
-things at once, like a greedy child—besides,
-poor Scheherezade's head is at
-stake!  I would not deprive her of one
-night's respite—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Suppose you tell me a story, Lord
-Canning—one of your adventures.  You
-have travelled so much, you must have
-had a very interesting life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Interesting in one way—barren in
-another.  Don't lean over like that,
-please."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your uncle says you have a passion
-for exploring."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes.  I suppose it has never occurred
-to you, Miss Stillwater, that this
-passion for exploring, in a man of my
-settled years—Miss Stillwater, I beg of
-you to be careful, remember it is five
-hundred feet.  This passion for exploring
-might exist only for want of another
-interest—a dear and sacred interest—most
-men of my age possess.  Life has
-withheld from me, so far—it's most
-precious gift.  I shall hold it the sweeter
-when bestowed.  Do you find it interesting
-to peer into the depths, Miss Stillwater?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very!  They say—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, what do they say?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That if you look into them long
-enough, here at the Devil's Pulpit, you
-are seized with an impulse to throw
-yourself in."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me; well, I have no fear for
-you at present.  But I shall take care
-you do not come here unaccompanied.
-What you have told me, however, is a
-fact which has been often proved.
-Whether it is a rocky precipice, five
-hundred feet of water, or a human soul—the
-depths have a dangerous fascination.
-Are you afraid, Miss Stillwater?
-Don't you wish to leave this dangerous
-spot?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I want my story, first."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You will persist in peering into the
-depths—beware of them!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not afraid."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't think you are."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, the story."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, yes—the story—you're in the
-mood to listen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes.  Is it to be one of your
-adventures?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not exactly.  I'm not in the mood
-to relate an adventure.  That will keep
-for another time.  This is a charmed
-spot, you see—as its name would
-denote—a spell has been laid on me, in the
-shadow of this rock, and I am obliged
-to speak the words that come into my
-head."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I won't consider you responsible."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No—not here."  Lord Canning
-folded his arms and gazed down into
-the impenetrable depths.  "There was
-once a weaver.  He wove a dull, gray
-woof—always the same gray woof.
-Sometimes, he would look up at the
-rich blue of the morning sky, then go
-on weaving his gray web.  Sometimes,
-he would glance at the sunset, and
-marvel at the gorgeous hues of the
-clouds—but there was never a gleam of
-color in the web, that he wove—it was
-always the same, dull gray.  Sometimes,
-the laughing face of a child would peep
-into his—and he would gaze longingly
-back—yearning to snatch the blue of
-the eyes, the gold of the hair—for that
-colorless web which Fate had set him to
-weave.  Once he dreamed that a sudden
-burst of sunlight streamed upon him, as
-he sat at his loom.  He put up his hand
-and drew down the rays one after the
-other, weaving them into his work.
-And as he wove, he heard singing—a
-choir of beautiful, jubilant voices.  The
-web, transformed into a gleaming fabric
-of light, gladdened the soul of the
-weaver.  Then he awoke, and saw the
-dull, gray woof in the loom.  He went
-on, patiently weaving the web which
-Fate had given him.  But his soul
-cherishes the hope—that some day,
-perhaps, his dream will come true."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-world-s-rest"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The World's Rest</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Indiana lay back with closed eyes.
-Lord Canning's deep, well-modulated
-voice, soothing her alert faculties
-into a dream of consciousness.  He
-looked at her as he concluded.  The
-innocence of her face, with its closed
-eyelids, appealed to him.  She looked
-very childish, lying at the foot of the
-giant rock.  Without any comment, she
-looked out on the lake.  He lit a cigar
-and smoked it in silence.  Both were
-thinking of the weaver.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you feel that icy breath from
-the rock, Miss Stillwater?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana laughed.  "We come for that
-on hot days, and lie in the shade and
-read.  It's always cool here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is 'we'—may I ask?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen and I."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen again," thought Lord Canning.
-"I have an absurd feeling against
-another having been here with
-her—another, who is only twenty-four and
-handsome as a picture—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana commenced to row.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Going?  Perhaps you are right—this
-is a dangerous spot."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"People are not so carried away with
-the Adirondacks at first," ventured
-Indiana.  "But they grow on them after a
-while."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Lord Canning, studying
-her attentively.  "I find a great many
-things grow on me in this part of the
-world.  Why do you laugh, Miss Stillwater?
-Have I said anything amusing?
-I should like to learn how to laugh like
-that.  Will you teach me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana laughed again.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"May I have the first lesson now?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I can't give you any lessons—you
-must just listen, that's all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I see—just listen.  It is shallow
-again—what a beautiful white, sandy
-bed—how restlessly the minnows
-dart—here and there—backwards and
-forwards.  They symbolize the activity of
-your nation, Miss Stillwater.  Oh, what
-a cunning little stair-case cut in the
-rock—it looks so inviting—I should like to
-get off and climb it, and sit up there in
-the trees—may I?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Indiana, "there are so
-many other pretty places, I want to
-show you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But I have a fancy for this—obduracy
-itself.  Well, will you promise to take me
-here again another day—do promise!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I promise," said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The sun was long past its meridian,
-when they reached home.  Mrs. Bunker,
-her daughter and Lord Stafford, were
-watching from the boat-house balcony.
-Lord Canning was rowing, without a
-coat, bareheaded.  Indiana, comfortably
-ensconced in pillows opposite, was
-employed in spattering water over his face,
-regardless of his laughing remonstrances.
-Their voices—Indiana's high-pitched
-but sweet, mingled with Lord Canning's
-deep tones—were carried by the clear
-air over the water.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Allow me to thank you for a delightful
-morning, Miss Stillwater," said Lord
-Canning, ceremoniously, as he helped
-her from the boat.  He stood looking
-looking back on the lake.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you coming, Lord Canning?"
-asked Indiana, her foot on the little
-rustic staircase leading from the dock
-up into the boat-house.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"One moment, if you please," said
-Lord Canning, still looking at the lake.
-"I want to fix firmly in my mind all the
-details of this delightful morning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How slow these Englishmen are,"
-thought Indiana, "and yet—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You naughty child," said
-Mrs. Bunker, beaming on Indiana.  "Do
-you know it's almost two o'clock!  Lord
-Stafford is starving."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And your mamma is 'worried to
-death about you,'" said Lord Stafford.
-"Ha, ha, ha, ha!  How am I getting on,
-Mrs. Bunker?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Bravo, Lord Stafford, you are an
-apt pupil."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Blame Lord Canning," said Indiana.
-"He does not like to hurry."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, indeed," added Lord Canning
-in an injured tone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He would insist on going in and out
-all the nooks along the shore."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, indeed," asserted Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He persisted in exploring everything.
-He has such a thirst for information—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Naturally," interrupted Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And of course, when he took the
-oars, I was powerless.  I'm thankful
-we're home this early."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They all climbed slowly up to the camp.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you take my arm, Mrs. Stillwater?
-Your daughter has forbidden
-me to wear a hat, and has been throwing
-water on me in the sun, as she wishes
-me to acquire a certain reddish shade
-of tan, which prevails here, and which
-your two guides possess to an enviable
-degree.  She was quite impervious to
-all my scolding."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Indiana always has her own
-way, Lord Canning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Evidently.  I was almost obliged
-to take the oars by force.  She wished
-to row the entire morning, and I
-thought that was entirely too much."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana will never give in that
-she's tired.  When she was a child she
-was the same.  She'd play until she
-dropped asleep on the ground from
-sheer exhaustion."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed," said Lord Canning.
-"Then I was quite right.  But we
-had a very exciting argument—it almost
-caused a quarrel—and I rather
-congratulated myself we were in such an
-isolated spot.  I don't wish to convey
-that Miss Stillwater actually lost her
-temper—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana," interrupted Mrs. Stillwater,
-reprovingly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you young folks propose
-to do this afternoon?" inquired Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Canning is very anxious to
-see the Notch," said Indiana.  "I
-thought I'd drive you all over there."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your daughter has been describing
-certain falls, Mrs. Stillwater, whose
-tremendous power have worn a gorge
-in the rock, and which supply water-power
-for this entire region.  Most interesting—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, a very picturesque spot."  said
-Mrs. Bunker.  "Lord Stafford, I'm
-sure you'll be charmed with it.  We
-must start immediately after lunch—it's
-a long drive."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And if Miss Stillwater is to drive,
-I'm afraid she will be taxing herself too
-much, after rowing the greater part of
-the morning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Indiana likes to be always on
-the go," said Mrs. Stillwater.  "I'm
-afraid she'll wear herself out some day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense, Mary," exclaimed Mrs. Bunker,
-sharply, "she's as strong as a horse."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your granddaughter is athletic,"
-said Lord Canning, "but of a very
-slender build.  It is her nervous activity
-that keeps her up, rather than strength.
-On the whole, I prescribe rest this afternoon."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, Indiana," said Mrs. Bunker
-mildly, "you could show Lord Canning
-that cunning little brook in the woods,
-back there—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I dearly love little brooks in the
-woods," said Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I can show him that any time,"
-said Indiana, "before breakfast."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall we say to-morrow, before
-breakfast—can I depend on that?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes.  And this afternoon we'll drive
-to the High Falls," replied Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They were still at the table when
-Haller presented himself.  "Be yer
-goin' ter drive ter the Notch this
-afternoon?  If ye be, it's nigh on ter three
-o'clock.  Yer can't get back fore dark.
-William's waitin' at the
-landin'."  Mrs. Bunker rose precipitately.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Get ready, Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I insist on Miss Stillwater resting
-for ten minutes at least.  Don't you
-agree with me, Mrs. Stillwater?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, indeed, Lord Canning.  But
-I can never force Indiana to lie down."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I will endeavor to see what I
-can do."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You will be accomplishing wonders
-if you can persuade Indiana to do any
-thing against her will."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, Miss Stillwater.  There's a
-hammock out on the balcony—waiting
-for you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But I must get ready for the drive,
-Lord Canning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now let me have my way, Miss
-Stillwater.  Ten minutes, more or less,
-does not count.  I don't approve of
-this rush after meals.  This is a wonderful
-hammock—so comfortable—different
-from most hammocks.  I tried it this
-morning—simply a piece of canvas
-stretched flat.  I shall take it in my
-head to sleep out here one fine night.
-Are you comfortable?  Now, Miss
-Stillwater, you have been very good to
-take this rest, and I am deeply indebted
-to you.  I shall be still more so if you
-will try to forget the fact that you are
-going anywhere.  Simply make your
-mind blank; now, don't raise your head
-and look at me like that.  I mean
-it—make your mind a blank.  Is it
-impossible for you to keep your eyes shut,
-Miss Stillwater?  Not even for ten
-minutes—in truth, only eight now.  I have a
-pocket Tennyson—I will read you a few
-extracts; I always carry some literature
-about me.  In travelling among so many
-shifting scenes, a thought now and then
-from a great mind goes largely toward
-establishing one's equilibrium.  By the
-way, I had this Tennyson with me this
-morning.  I might have read to you on
-the lake.  Still, we did not feel the
-want of it, did we?  Time passed so
-quickly—almost too quickly.  Dear me!
-'In Memoriam' is my favorite poem—which
-is yours, Miss Stillwater?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mine," said Indiana, dreamily.
-"Let me see—'Evangeline' is very beautiful."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A charming pastoral—I suppose it
-would be the favorite poem of a young
-girl who knows nothing of life—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana sat up suddenly in the hammock.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You make a great mistake, Lord
-Canning.  I have travelled all over the
-United States.  I have come in contact
-with the world.  I have a very shrewd
-idea of life—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lie down, Miss Stillwater, please.
-That was a very unhappy remark of
-mine.  So you have a very shrewd idea
-of life.  I'm obliged to take your word
-for it—but, pardon me, you look very
-young for a person who has such a
-profound knowledge of the world.  Now,
-don't talk back at me—remember, you
-are resting.  Please shut your eyes—shut
-them—it's only three minutes now.
-I forbid you to open them again.
-Returning to our original subject—'In
-Memoriam' embodies a philosophy
-which appeals to me.  We must read it
-together.  I suppose you have not given
-it especial study?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think such a poem should be read
-with someone else.  I am very familiar
-with it.  I may be able to throw a light
-on passages that may appear obscure to
-you, and, perhaps, ultimately succeed
-in imbuing you with my own love for it.
-This—</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>'Oh, yet we trust that somehow good,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>Will be the final goal of all—'"</span></div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Indiana," called Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She sprung from the hammock.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me! it isn't—yes, it is—eleven
-minutes and a half."  "Provoking,"
-thought Lord Canning, as Indiana
-disappeared.  "I don't seem to have any
-time alone with her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He very soon found himself in the
-little naptha launch, 'Indiana,' with the
-rest of the party.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't this jolly?" said Lord Stafford.
-"We seem to be always on the go, here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, I'm not going to let you
-stagnate," replied Mrs. Bunker.  "There's
-a different place to see every day, and
-when you've seen everything the
-hunting will commence."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We couldn't have a nicer day for a
-drive," remarked Mrs. Stillwater.  "It
-has rained all night, and there won't be
-any dust."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, if a storm don't come up while
-we're out," said Mrs. Bunker.  "You
-never can tell what's behind these
-mountains.  They're always brewing
-something.  Don't you ever let Indiana
-get you out in that sail-boat—while I
-think of it, Lord Canning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Mrs. Bunker, I will not let her
-get me out in that sail-boat.  There, I
-put my foot down."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you will," said Indiana,
-propping her chin on her hand, "won't you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning smiled back into her
-eyes.  "Well, perhaps," he said.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There!" exclaimed Mrs. Bunker.
-"Indiana makes everyone do as she
-wishes."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you your Tennyson here,
-Lord Canning?  I should like to look
-through it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He gave it to her, and then two heads
-were soon bent, in a discussion, over the
-book.  Lord Canning started, when they
-reached their destination, and Haller
-gave a spring to the dock.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Already," closing the book, "this
-has been most interesting, Miss
-Stillwater.  You have a very clear and
-fresh conception.  It's a great pleasure
-to read with you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Indiana has always distinguished
-herself in her studies," said
-Mrs. Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I can believe that," said Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As the ponies sped along with their
-swift, firm trot, Indiana explained to
-him the different points of interest in
-the country.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Indiana, you're taking the
-old road—that's the longest," as she
-made a sudden turn from the highway.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And the prettiest, Grandma Chazy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, do as you like.  We'll never
-get home."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thinking of home already, Mrs. Bunker.
-We're just started.  This is
-awfully jolly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we'll see how jolly you'll
-think it, Lord Stafford, when you're
-kept till nearly nine for your dinner."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me, is it so serious as that?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We follow this all the way," said
-Indiana, pointing to the narrow stream
-on whose banks they were driving.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Charming to hear, that delightful
-gurgle.  I am so fond of the sound of
-water!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A very narrow path," said Lord
-Stafford, peering over the banks.
-"One lurch to the right, and we're
-over."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The banks are propped with logs,"
-explained Mrs. Bunker.  "That is done
-every spring.  The force of the water
-in winter breaks them down.  They're
-none too safe now, I believe.  But
-Indiana would take this old road!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am so glad you did," murmured
-Lord Canning.  "The continuous perspective
-of this winding stream is charming."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As they drove on they were surprised
-now and then by little green islands,
-very small, sometimes merely clumps
-of trees.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mysterious little islands," said
-Lord Canning.  "So lonely, set here
-and there in the stream, like little
-green shrines, for those who wish to
-pray."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You have more imagination than
-many would credit you with, Lord
-Canning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not understood by many—I
-would not care to be—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do be careful, Indiana," said
-Mrs. Stillwater, as they bounded over a frail
-bridge built on logs.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Have no fear, Mrs. Stillwater.
-Your daughter is managing these ponies
-admirably—" he added to Indiana—"with
-those small hands.  May I relieve
-you presently?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you—I am not tired.  I
-should fear to trust you.  One must
-know the roads."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Gradually the low musical gurgle of
-the stream deepened into a more
-significant undertone.  Indiana made a
-sudden cut to the left and turned out,
-after crossing a bridge, on another
-narrow road overlooking a deep ravine.
-From its depths they still heard the
-voice of the stream, growing into an
-angry murmur.  After a while, on the
-right, rose a high, craggy mountain-wall,
-with sparse foliage growing in its
-crannies.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford peered down into the
-ravine.  "What a wicked looking place.
-We're quite on the edge, Miss Stillwater.
-Our lives are in your hands—and
-that terrible mountain on the right."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It shadows us like fate," said Lord
-Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a mysterious voice warning
-us from the ravine.  Remember, that
-was once the low cooing murmur of a
-placid stream."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's a lesson in that," said
-Mrs. Bunker.  "Never trust a woman with
-a soft cooing voice."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha, ha!  Quite so, Mrs. Bunker."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What a sudden change," remarked
-Lord Canning, "from a fairy pastoral
-to this mysterious wilderness.  Are
-these sudden changes common to the
-country?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Common to the country—and the
-women," replied Indiana, laughing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite so, Miss Stillwater," said
-Lord Stafford.  "You know Pope's
-familiar couplet—</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>Women like variegated tulips show,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>'Tis to their changes, half their charms they owe.'"</span></div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Do you echo that sentiment, Lord
-Stafford," asked Mrs. Bunker, archly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, really, that's a difficult
-question, Mrs. Bunker.  One is bored by
-monotony, of course—but sometimes
-these sudden changes can be deucedly
-unpleasant—ha, ha, ha, ha!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There is the river," explained
-Indiana, pointing to a black rushing current,
-murmuring angrily below them.  They
-watched it for a mile, sometimes writhing
-slowly in its rocky bed, like a long
-black snake, while the angry murmur
-grew faint and then rose again as the
-water rushed on with renewed power,
-frothing madly over the holders and
-rocks which barred its progress.
-Suddenly before them rose the blue, distant
-peak of one of the giant mountains.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You wish to climb all the mountains?"
-inquired Indiana.  "This will be
-the first—it is the nearest.  I have
-climbed it."  Lord Canning surveyed
-it with interest.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And will you climb it with me again?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so.  I climb it every year.
-It's only four miles from our camp to
-the trail."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Always driving with this blue peak
-before us," remarked Lord Canning,
-after a while, "reminds me of the high
-aims we set for ourselves, and which we
-never seem to reach—the ideal of the
-true artist which he despairs of ever
-attaining—but, still, his eyes fixed on that
-pale blue peak of perfection in the sky,
-he forgets the bitter materialisms of life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana bent down and gazed at the
-dark current.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not look down, Miss Stillwater.
-That is the river of Biting Reality.  Close
-your ears to its threatening murmur—gaze
-with me before us.  I am under
-the delusion that I have discovered this
-region.  Naturally, I wish to christen
-everything myself.  I would make that
-distant peak—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It is called—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Miss Stillwater, I do not wish
-to know—I will christen it—humor
-me—I am one of those harmlessly insane
-people with one delusion.  I name that
-peak the Mount of Perfection.  You
-said you would climb it with me.  It is
-a very arduous ascent, and you are
-young and 'frail.'"  He looked down
-into the laughing eyes.  "But when two
-climb together the stronger helps the
-weaker.  All I ask—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that once in awhile you will smile
-up at me—as we climb—in order that I
-shall know you are not tired."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I will smile," said Indiana.  "That
-is not much to ask—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, but will you smile brightly, so
-that I may know you have not lost
-courage; will you smile trustfully, so
-that I may feel you have implicit faith
-in any way I choose to lead—will you?
-Ah, well, I won't say any more—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen," interrupted Indiana.  Far
-away he heard a faint roar.  "The Falls."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I will christen them later.  That
-distant sound is very fascinating.  I
-really cannot say yet what it conveys to
-me.  But these falls are the culmination
-of the river—they typify some crisis in
-life—some great emotion into which all
-others are submerged."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He leaned back, with folded arms,
-watching the dense woods which had
-replaced the craggy mountain-wall, and
-listening to the growing roar of the
-falls.  The air here was laden with
-balsam.  Sometimes an icy breath from the
-deep woods, into which no sun could
-penetrate, fanned their faces.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not yet named the lake on
-which we spent this forenoon.  I hereby
-christen it Lake Dangerous, as a
-warning to those who might be deceived
-by its apparent harmlessness.  All ye
-unwary ones, take heed of sudden
-storms, deceiving shallows, unfathomable
-depths, and certain rocky places,
-where supernatural powers are at work
-to steal the precious secret of the soul!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>At this dramatic proclamation
-Indiana gave vent to a ringing peal of
-laughter.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the joke, Indiana?" called
-Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Lord Canning is talking the
-greatest amount of nonsense."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your nephew isn't near as serious
-as when I met him at Cannes," observed
-Mrs. Bunker.  "Indiana brightens
-everybody up."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite so, Mrs. Bunker.  Now
-hadn't you better use your arts to
-brighten me up?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What have I been doing all this
-time?  Wasting my sweetness, I see."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha, ha! yes, Mrs. Bunker.
-You had better commence all over
-again."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As they drove on the sound of the
-falls grew into a loud roar.  Miniature
-rapids could be seen, now and then, as
-the river emptied itself into small rocky
-basins, then plunged onward.  Finally,
-Indiana slackened pace at a rustic bridge,
-where they alighted.  This bridge led
-by short flights of steps to other
-ascending bridges spanning the falls.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll sit down by the water," said
-Mrs. Stillwater.  "I don't like to cross
-the falls.  They make me giddy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They saw her comfortably installed
-on a large boulder beneath a tree, near
-a spot where the river wandered off in
-a placid mood.  Then they climbed
-the frail stairs leading to the different
-bridges, pausing at each to gaze closer
-at the fierce rush of the waters.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What a wild, dark glen!" exclaimed
-Lord Canning, looking about him, as
-they reached the last bridge.  "Those
-majestic pines stand like sentinels
-watching the falls."  He gazed down
-into the enormous gorge called The
-Notch, into which the falls dashed, with
-a deafening sound, sending up a
-blinding shower of spray.  "How the water
-seethes and boils and bubbles!  It is
-like a gigantic cauldron.  Magnificent
-for witches!  What poisons, what
-love-potions and charms they could brew
-down there!  Just the place for a conjuration!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd say that if you saw the place
-by moonlight.  It looks simply unearthly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should love to see it by
-moonlight.  May I?"  He looked pleadingly
-at Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," she said, meditatively.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," interrupted Mrs. Bunker.
-"We'll have a moonlight picnic,
-just as soon as there is a moon.
-Probably my son will be here then."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My handkerchief is quite wet,"
-said Lord Stafford, wiping the spray
-from his face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Take mine," offered Mrs. Bunker,
-holding up a wet morsel.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, my dear lady, of what use
-would that be?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I love the spray," remarked Indiana,
-taking off her hat and leaning over.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, stop that!  Lord Canning,
-will you hold her?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Allow me," said Lord Canning,
-putting his arms about her and bending
-himself to gaze down into the falls.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Their tremendous rush and power
-awoke a responsive chord in his own
-breast.  He was conscious that what
-had been first an impulse with him was
-rapidly becoming a force, as wildly
-impetuous in its way as that upon which
-he was gazing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>In one part of the glen some logs had
-been stacked under the trees.  Lord
-Canning secured one.  "I wish to test
-the force of the water," he said.  It took
-all the strength he possessed to raise
-the log high in the air and fling it down
-into the falls.  There, it was lifted and
-tossed by the eddying current, then
-whirled onward, out of sight, as though
-it had been a leaf.  "Tremendous power!
-Miss Stillwater, you have gazed long
-enough into the witches' cauldron."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They ascended slowly, behind Mrs. Bunker
-and Lord Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us rest a little while," said
-Lord Canning.  "I should like to sit in
-this mysterious glen and listen to the
-falls as we hear them now—on the bridge
-they were too deafening."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They sat down beneath one of the
-immense pines, which looked down on
-the falls.  Lord Canning closed his
-eyes and leaned back on the deep
-green moss.  It was a spot where the
-sun seldom penetrated.  "I christen
-these the Magic Falls," he said, after a
-few moments, in which Indiana idly
-plucked the moss.  "Listening to them
-one loses all sense of past or future.
-Here, just before we reach the falls—but
-in view of them, within sound of
-them, before we are carried away by
-their impetuous rush, rendered dizzy
-and blinded by their thunder and
-spray—one can rest.  This is one of life's
-lulls.  We all deserve to rest one day
-in a spot like this, deeply shaded and
-carpeted with moss, within sound of the
-Magic Falls.  Here the world stops,
-for once,—the world, with all its pros
-and cons, its clear and valuable logic,
-of which one grows very weary.  The
-world itself must tire sometime of its
-plentiful stock of common sense.  Then,
-I christen this The World's Rest."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="in-an-orchard-of-the-memory"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">In an Orchard of the Memory</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>When Lord Canning and
-Indiana finally rejoined the
-others, they were made the subject of
-much reproval and interrogation.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Blame me, Mrs. Bunker!" said
-Lord Canning.  "Dinner is a fact
-that I had forgotten."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Apparently," answered Mrs. Bunker,
-who looked wonderfully well
-pleased considering her impatience.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That is something new for you,
-Thurston.  You always used to be
-quite punctilious in the matter of meals."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, Uncle Nelson!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Canning has lost his memory
-for the time being," explained Indiana.
-"He is just a trifle demented—by his
-own confession."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be alarmed, good people!"
-said Lord Canning, with a far-away
-look.  "I belong to the harmless
-variety.  Miss Stillwater, who is my keeper
-for the present, can testify to that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh yes, quite harmless!  He has
-only one delusion.  He believes that
-he has discovered the Adirondacks, and
-he christens everything that he sees,
-with a name of his own."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As they made their way to the wagon,
-Lord Canning read an indescribable
-expression on his uncle's face, which
-amused him greatly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston never went on like this
-at the country houses we visited in
-England," reflected Lord Stafford, on
-the homeward drive.  "It seems that
-people act differently abroad from their
-manner at home."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't take the old road home,
-Indiana!" cried Mrs. Bunker as they
-started.  "It's too long."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The sun is sinking," observed Lord
-Canning, "but all we know of it here
-in the woods is this soft, golden haze.
-This is the most beautiful time to
-drive.  The others may be hungry, but
-I think we have arranged it very well, to
-suit ourselves.  How still the woods are
-at sundown!  Look at their deep, rich
-green in the golden light!  Do you
-hear that musical murmur?  It's one
-of those tiny brooks—we have just
-passed it.  You are to show me one
-to-morrow near the camp.  What time
-before breakfast?  Eight?  Half-past
-seven?  Say seven.  Now do not be late."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As the light gradually faded, they felt
-a touch of frost in the air.  Its
-exhilarating effect was heightened by the
-rapid speed the ponies had taken on
-the homeward road.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Grandma Chazy wants me to take
-the new road back.  It's a short-cut,"
-whispered Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't like short-cuts," murmured
-Lord Canning, crossly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, you're not—well, what do
-you think of that girl, Lord Stafford?"  As
-Indiana took the forbidden road,
-both she and Lord Canning laughing
-with intense enjoyment.  "Just like
-naughty children, aren't they, Lord
-Stafford?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha, ha! yes, Mrs. Bunker,"
-laughed Lord Stafford, edified beyond
-description at hearing his serious
-nephew, with a scientific bent, classed
-in the category of naughty children.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope cook won't mind," ventured
-Mrs. Stillwater, with a worried expression.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ten to one she will, Mary.  But
-don't get worried over that yet.  You
-can have an hour's peace of mind
-before she gives you notice."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's so hard to get another up here,
-or I wouldn't care," added Mrs. Stillwater,
-apologetically.  "You see I
-should have to telegraph Mr. Stillwater—and
-he would have all the bother of
-getting us one, putting her on the
-train, you see—and then, Lord Stafford,
-she mightn't suit."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite so, Mrs. Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't allow a small matter of cooks
-to annoy you, Mrs. Stillwater," said
-Lord Canning.  "In case of emergency
-call on me.  There are certain
-dishes which I pride myself upon.  If
-cook has the bad taste to leave us, we
-will camp out in earnest."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're very good, Lord Canning,"
-replied Mrs. Stillwater, laughing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you ever tried these special
-dishes, Lord Stafford?" inquired Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha, ha! no, Mrs. Bunker,
-My nephew is developing accomplishments
-which surprise me, to say the
-least, Mrs. Bunker."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't this fascinating!  Look at
-the soft, dim perspective of the stream
-winding off there!  The little islands,
-mysterious and fairy-like, in the
-deepening light!  Those low clouds
-floating in the glassy surface—the picture
-fading imperceptibly, as we gaze!  That
-gentle, continuous ripple with it all!
-There is no poetry to equal this.  None
-which could convey such a sense of
-infinite peace and calm," enthused Lord
-Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I love this old road," said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I, too, love this old road," echoed
-Lord Canning, fervently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When they finally emerged upon the
-open country there was still a dull,
-fiery streak in the western sky.  In this
-fiery streak the evening star, rising
-slowly above the dark-blue outline of
-the mountains, glimmered faintly, a
-pearl in a ruby setting.  As they drove
-on in the growing night, lights gleamed
-from scattered homesteads; the clear
-cold air blew keenly in their faces.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm thinking longingly of that
-glorious fire in the hall," said Lord
-Stafford, rubbing his hands.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There'll be a heavy frost to-night,"
-remarked Indiana.  "I can feel it.  You'll
-see a great change in the foliage to-morrow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This is most exhilarating.  I have
-been watching that long twilight in the
-west.  How clear and bright it is there!
-This is a purely Northern sky,"
-exclaimed Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A week later they received word
-from Mr. Stillwater that he was coming
-for the remainder of the season.  Lord
-Stafford was present when the letter
-arrived, and notified his nephew in this
-wise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Pa's coming!" he exclaimed, bursting
-into Lord Canning's room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Pa's coming!" he repeated, in a
-feminine falsetto.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean, Uncle Nelson?"
-interrogated Lord Canning, in an
-irritated voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm repeating Miss Stillwater's
-words, 'Pa's coming!'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!"  Lord Canning gazed out of
-his window at the lake, thinking.  "So
-papa is coming.  Well, all the better!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He arrives to-morrow, the fifteenth.
-They're arranging a deer-hunt for the
-day after.  The guides are jubilant that
-the real business of the season is to
-commence.  They've been idling so
-long.  Haven't you opened your letters
-yet, Thurston?" noticing the pile of
-letters on the table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have read my mother's—here it
-is.  She is well, thank God!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And you're going off without opening
-the rest of your mail—part of it
-arrived two days ago.  There might be
-something important."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have an appointment with Miss
-Stillwater.  That is the most important
-thing at present."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why—what—where are you going?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, if you must know, Uncle
-Nelson, I am invited to help her catch
-pollywogs down here by the lake.  She
-does not like to be kept waiting.  I'm
-in a great hurry, Uncle Nelson.  Ha, ha,
-ha, ha!"  He rushed out of the room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford sank into a chair,
-holding his sister's letter.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I don't know what to make
-of Thurston.  It really looks as though
-that little thing has bewitched him—that
-little blonde thing—it's too absurd!—ha,
-ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!—she's
-clever, though!—she runs the
-entire tribe of them—mother, father and
-grandmother.  She can turn Thurston
-round her little finger—em—en!
-Perhaps I ought to devise some means of
-getting him away from here.  I
-promised his mother to look after him.  But
-then the hunting is just about to
-commence, and I've been looking forward
-to it—so long—besides, what would
-Mrs. Bunker say?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Catching pollywogs was one of
-Indiana's favorite recreations.  She kept
-them in bottles for the pleasure of
-seeing them turn into frogs.</span></p>
-<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 68%" id="figure-31">
-<span id="catching-pollywogs"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Catching Pollywogs" src="images/img-215.jpg" />
-<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin">
-<span class="italics">Catching Pollywogs</span></div>
-</div>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at this little one!  How
-beautifully green and speckled!"  She
-held the little squirming, slippery thing
-fondly in her hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish I were a pollywog!" said
-Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This remark, coming from such a
-source, appealed to Indiana's sense of
-humor.  She laughed until the tears
-rose to her eyes, while Lord Canning
-surveyed her with a deeply injured
-expression.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's most unkind of you to ridicule
-my ambitions in this way, Miss Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And such lofty ambitions, too."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They were—once, but they have
-gradually diminished, until now I am
-quite satisfied to be a pollywog—but
-that one in your hand, you understand."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana put it into the bottle, then
-leaned back on the soft ground
-clasping her hands behind her head.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tired—so soon?  But you weary
-of most things like this, I have
-perceived—a truly feminine trait."  He lit
-a cigar.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was one of those fair, bright
-autumn days, when one could imagine it
-was June instead of September, were it
-not for the glorious splashes of color
-that enlivened the lake.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you notice," said Indiana,
-gazing upward through the pines, "how
-near the sky seems to us here?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Lord Canning, "heaven
-seems very near to me here"—he bent
-down, looking into her eyes—"very
-near, and sometimes very far—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The sound of a mandolin floated to
-them over the water.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen!" cried Indiana, starting up.
-Lord Canning rose also, self-contained
-and somewhat pale.  They watched the
-boat growing larger.  Burt was rowing
-and Glen playing, "My Georgia
-Lady-love."  Indiana stood up and waved her
-handkerchief.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why does he play that now?" she
-thought.  "He played it that day in
-the orchard—when he told me—and I
-was sorry for him.  It was such a
-beautiful day!  He said there would
-never be another—maybe there won't.</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>"'Way down in dear old Georgia State,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>We parted—but she said she would wait—'"</span></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>sang Indiana, to the familiar strains.
-"There were so many apple-blossoms,
-and they were falling—falling over my
-face, my neck, my hair.  The sky was
-so blue when I looked up through the
-blossoms—a different blue from this—</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>'She slowly dropped her head,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>And then she softly said:</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>'Mister Johnson, 'deed I loves you too.''</span></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>We cried and made ourselves miserable—I
-wanted to kiss and comfort him, I
-wanted to whisper what he wished to
-hear—but something held me back.  I
-was sorry for myself as well as for him.
-I wanted to please everyone—his folks
-and mine—but I couldn't.  I didn't
-know then—I was waiting for this.  But
-I'm sorry for Glen—so sorry!"  She saw
-the boat through a mist of tears and the
-mandolin sounded far, very far away, as
-though Glen were still playing it in the
-orchard of her memory, where the
-blossoms fell, in a last rosy glow of the sun.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning watched her, jealous
-of the new expression on her face.  He
-realized she was carried away by some
-recollection in which Glen held a part.
-"A boy-and-girl affair, probably," he
-thought.  "There is always a boy-and-girl
-affair, but it seldom amounts to
-anything—very seldom."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen joyfully recognized Indiana
-waving from the shore.  "Looks as
-though she'd been standing watching
-for me ever so long, but that's too much
-to expect."  Burt rowed slowly in, while
-Glen waved his cap, gaily.  Indiana
-ran down to the dock to meet him,
-slowly followed by Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Glen, here you are at last!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glad to see me back, Indiana?" he
-asked, holding her hand, while Lord
-Canning stood discreetly in the background.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Cause—Lord Canning, this is Glen
-Masters, my old friend and
-playmate—the Right Honourable Thurston Ralph
-Canning, Viscount.  Right?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Perfectly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen's a character," continued
-Indiana, "he hates cities."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I do, sir," said Glen, rather
-aggressively.  "But I'm not out of the swim.
-I keep myself thoroughly posted upon
-politics and literature of the world."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He fought in the Spanish-American
-war," said Indiana, putting her hand
-proudly on his shoulder.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And when it was over," laughed
-Glen, "I came, like Cincinnatus, back
-to the plow.  My father's been working
-a farm this spring for his health, and
-I've been helping him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Character, brain, muscle," observed
-Lord Canning.  "That is the stuff
-which has made the American nation
-what it is to-day."  He extended his
-hand to Glen, who grasped it without
-enthusiasm.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mail for me, Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it's all up in your room."  He
-took his coat and several other things
-from the boat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you have a nice time?" asked Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'll tell you all about it later.
-We had a fine time, lots of sport.  I
-must go and shake hands with the folks
-now, and read my mail.  See you later,
-sir."  He swung his coat over his
-shoulder and saluted them, military
-fashion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you take me for a walk, Miss
-Stillwater?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana looked hesitatingly up at the camp.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, perhaps you would prefer to
-stay and talk with your old playmate.
-Do as you feel inclined, Miss
-Stillwater."  But he looked distinctively
-aggrieved.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no," said Indiana, carelessly.
-"There is plenty of time for that.  He
-will tell us his experiences around the
-fire to-night.  Where would you like
-to go?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, let us simply follow one of
-those little 'trails' through the woods—one
-of those charming little trails, which
-one loses, and finds again, like a broken
-thread of thought, in the forest.  There
-is always the murmur of some distant
-stream, which one vaguely hopes to
-reach—and sometimes a glimpse of blue
-sky through the dark pines."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-might-of-the-falls"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">The Might of the Falls</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"She doesn't look a day over
-thirty!  Remarkable!" said
-Lord Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She grasps the ideas I present to
-her with astonishing quickness,"
-answered his nephew, absently.  "A very
-bright, eager mind.  She has innate
-refinement and tact—for all her
-unconventional freedom of manner, which is
-only the outcome of her unconsciousness—and
-that is, after all, her particular
-charm, her unconsciousness.  I
-catch a glimpse, now and then, of a
-certain wildness of spirit.  I fear she
-would beat her wings against—certain
-fetters—unless—unless—well, it is
-most interesting to watch the phases of
-this young, tender nature—the product
-of a new civilization."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston, who in the world are
-you talking about?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Stillwater, of course!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought so.  You were talking
-about the young one and I was talking
-about the old one.  It's very
-irritating—you've done that before."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"When did I do it before?  And be
-kind enough to explain who you mean
-by 'the old one'?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker, of course."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Mrs. Bunker!" repeated Lord
-Canning, with a sarcastic intonation.
-"I presume I have the same right to
-talk about Miss Stillwater as you have
-to talk—about Mrs. Bunker, Uncle Nelson!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No one's disputing your right, but
-you're continually talking about her!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wasn't aware I monopolized the
-conversation to that degree."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you do.  You're continually
-'studying' her and relating the results
-of your observations.  I should think
-you would know her by heart before
-you left her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Unfortunately, so far, I have not
-been allowed an opportunity for such
-extended knowledge.  I'm rarely left
-alone with her long enough for a proper
-interchange of ideas.  There are always
-so many plans and excursions on foot."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"By George, you're off with her all
-the time, somewhere!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not for long," said Lord Canning,
-gloomily.  "Before one is aware, it's
-lunch or dinner—meals are so
-interfering!  What's that?"  Lord Stafford
-peered out of the window.  They were
-sitting in his room, which was flooded
-with moonlight.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's that Masters fellow.  He's
-playing his mandolin on the lake.
-Fancy, at this hour!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They smoked for awhile in silence,
-listening.  It was long after twelve.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We're going on a moonlight picnic
-to the Falls to-morrow night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are we?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So Mrs. Bunker told me.  We
-drove there our first day here—don't
-you remember?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning looked at his uncle in utter contempt.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do I remember?  What a delightful
-day it was, that first day!  And
-how many delightful days we have had
-since!  Let me see.  We have been
-here going on four weeks—is it possible?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That poor chap," with an
-inclination of his head toward the lake,
-"seems awfully cut up about Miss
-Stillwater!"  Lord Stafford watched
-his nephew closely.  "Why don't you
-retire and leave him the field?  You
-may as well, you know, first as last."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have no intention of doing it—first
-or last!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The devil you haven't!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Uncle Nelson, I have made up my
-mind to marry Miss Stillwater!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good God!  Your mother!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My mother will be satisfied with
-whatever is to result in my happiness.
-This is the only thing in my life I have
-ever intensely desired."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Think it over—well over.  You
-may change your mind."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have thought it over.  You
-remember when I climbed Mt. Marsy
-with Haller.  The night we spent on the
-summit—I never closed my eyes.  In
-the morning I watched the sun rise
-over the forests, mountains and lakes.
-Such a young, rejoicing world!  And I
-stood above it all, sleepless, miserable,
-old!  The questions I had asked all
-night seemed vain and trivial.  I was
-simply answered.  'Be happy!' said the
-new-born world, bathed in dew and light."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I promised your mother to look after
-you," insisted Lord Stafford, weakly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His nephew put up his hand in
-laughing remonstrance, then grew
-instantly grave.  "Do you remember
-that log I threw in the Notch?  How it
-was tossed and whirled onward, like a
-leaf, by the might of the falls?  I am as
-helpless in the force that has now taken
-possession of me.  I have ceased to
-reason.  I am going—wherever the
-falls will send me."  He drank deeply
-from the glass which stood at his elbow,
-Lord Stafford regarding him helplessly.
-They talked into the small hours of the morning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Late in the afternoon Stillwater sat
-in a sunny corner of the balcony,
-reading the Herald.  One hand held
-a nut, which a chipmunk was
-speculatively watching in the shadow of
-the big balsam tree.  Whenever he
-ventured near, a rustle of the paper sent
-him scampering back to the branches,
-It was the first week of October and
-they were having Indian summer.  The
-evergreens on the borders of the lake
-were a sombre background to the
-gorgeous autumn color of the beech and
-maple trees.  The mountains were
-covered with an Oriental carpet of blended
-browns, greens, and reds.  Mrs. Bunker
-came out on the balcony, shading
-her eyes to look on the lake.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No sign of them yet."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How long are your English friends
-going to stay?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker leaned carelessly against
-the rustic railing.  "I'm sure I don't
-know.  Lord Stafford is a devoted
-sportsman, and his nephew is accumulating
-information about the country.
-They're both taken with the place, and—the
-people in it," she smiled, in a
-self-conscious way at her son-in-law.  He
-looked at her closely.  She wore a
-tailor-made gown, showing the fine lines of
-her tall figure.  A scarlet cape dropped
-carelessly off her shoulders.  Masses of
-silvery hair, piled artistically on top of
-her head, presented a striking contrast
-to her dark, youthful eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Grandma Chazy!  You don't think
-of marrying again?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker laughed as though her
-sense of humor had been irresistably
-touched.  "I can't help guying Lord
-Stafford.  He looks at me with those owl
-eyes, and takes all my jokes for solemn
-earnest."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You will flirt, Grandma."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I will, while there's a breath left in
-my body—but I'm not the only
-marriageable candidate in the house."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, keep your match-making
-hands off Indiana," he said, rising and
-throwing down the paper.  "I won't
-have it.  If she marries away from us,
-it will break her mother's heart.  If I
-thought you had any such schemes in
-your head—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Wouldn't you like to see Indiana
-Lady Canning?" she asked sweetly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" exclaimed Stillwater decidedly.
-"My girl's a good, little Yankee and
-she shan't emigrate."  He passed up
-and down the balcony, talking excitedly.
-"Yes, there's rich emigrants and poor
-emigrants—and it's leaving your country,
-bag and baggage.  England's got the
-flower of our women already, and of
-course, now the men are following suit."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You talk like a backwood's man,"
-said Mrs. Bunker, contemptuously.
-"You've never been abroad."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No.  You can do the globe-trotting
-for the family.  Is there anything better
-than this—in Europe?"  He gave a
-comprehensive sweep of his head
-toward the lake and the woods.  "Those
-Englishmen are wild over the
-place."  Mrs. Bunker folded her arms patiently,
-while he continued his restless promenade.
-"Hit me between the eyes with
-the Jungfrau—what's the matter with
-the Rockies?  All the snow I
-want—there.  Where can you see another
-Niagara or a Yellowstone Park—or a
-stretch of balsam woods, like we have
-here in the Adirondacks—or a—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Horatio," interrupted Mrs. Bunker,
-"your spread-eagleism is wasted
-on me.  You can be sure of one
-thing—when Indiana marries, we won't be
-consulted.  She'll please herself—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Stillwater brought his hand
-down on the railing.  "She can have
-anything the world affords—but I won't
-buy her a title!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker swept inside, laughing
-good humoredly.  Seating herself by
-the fire in the hall, she took up a
-square of chamois upon which she was
-embroidering the head of an Indian
-chief, in full war-paint.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The others not back yet?" asked
-Glen, entering presently.  "They're
-making a day of it."  He placed the
-gun he carried in a corner of the hall
-and threw himself into a chair by the
-fire.  "Those Englishmen are having
-the time of their lives.  Lord Canning
-monopolizes Indiana, without considering
-whether it's agreeable to her—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's not the kind to sacrifice
-herself, Glen," said Mrs. Bunker, smiling,
-and setting colored stones among the
-feathers on the forehead of the Indian chief.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen stared into the fire.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think they've been here quite
-long enough."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're jealous," said Mrs. Bunker,
-laughing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at her with kindled eyes.
-"I am," he answered.  "I confess
-it—horribly jealous!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Again Mrs. Bunker laughed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't take me seriously, Mrs. Bunker."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the trouble.  I'm trying to
-laugh you out of this thing for your
-own good."  She laid down her work
-and looked at him sympathizingly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I know you mean all right by
-me," he said with a sigh which was
-almost a sob.  "But you needn't try to
-laugh me out of it—you can't do that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Glen, you're making it
-very hard for your yourself!  Take my
-advice for once."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You can't laugh me out of it," he
-repeated, burying his face in his hands.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll talk to you just as if you were
-my own—I've often wished I had a son.
-I could have done so much for him—I
-could have made something of a son of
-mine.  You are a young fellow, with
-every advantage that money can
-give—handsome, and healthy, and clever.
-The world's before you.  Rise up and
-be a man!  Crush this thing under your
-feet!  Don't consider your life is over
-before it's begun—because you can't
-have the first thing you happened to
-wish for.  Love isn't the only thing in
-life—especially for a man.  Look at the
-sphere a man has for his activity!  I
-sometimes feel like shaking some of you!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't understand—you don't
-know—what a hold it has taken of me!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense!  Make an effort!  It's
-in you.  You're a soldier—there are
-other battles to be fought beside those
-on the battlefield."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know.  And I'll fight—when I
-must.  It hasn't come to that yet.  I
-haven't given up hope.  Don't talk to
-me as if I were a coward.  I went off
-to Manila, and I loved her then.  I
-didn't know when I wished her good-bye
-but that it might be the last time I
-should ever see her.  But it wasn't so
-bad as this man walking in here, a
-perfect stranger, and trying to steal her
-under my very eyes—when I've known
-her all my life.  And what does it
-all mean?  Fine talk—a little extra
-polish!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Canning's a very interesting
-man—a man who holds a high position
-in England.  Indiana also has her
-future to make.  You mustn't expect
-because you've played with her as a
-child—well, what is the use of talking
-sense to you!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean well by me, Mrs. Bunker,
-and I thank you for it—you may
-be even right in what you say.  You've
-travelled a great deal and met hosts of
-people, and you're very experienced,
-but you don't understand.  This has
-been growing in me before I knew—growing
-with my growth—and growing
-after I knew—it's tearing a flower from
-the roots!"  He rose abruptly and
-leaned against the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come out," called Stillwater.  "What
-are you sitting over the fire for?  The
-sun feels fine to-day!  This is great
-weather!  I'm half sorry that I didn't
-join the rest and bring down a few
-birds.  Here's a boat coming in now.
-Lord Stafford's man with Haller."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't see anything of Indiana
-nowadays, since those Englishmen have
-been here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Stillwater looked at him significantly.
-"Well, they'll be gone soon—then
-we'll have her all to ourselves
-again, my boy!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Stillwater, you—you don't
-think Indiana cares for that man, do you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" replied Mr. Stillwater, scornfully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He's a man of position," said Glen,
-"and she's flattered—that's all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all," repeated Stillwater,
-putting his feet up on the rustic railing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And another thing," Glen lowered
-his voice, "I suppose Mrs. Bunker's
-been getting in some of her fine
-work."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater winked.  "You can
-depend on that.  Hi, Flash!"  Flash ran
-up, the bottles in the lunch-basket he
-carried rattling loudly.  He bowed
-obsequiously, out of breath, as he neared
-the camp.  "What sport?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Magnificent, sir!  Partridges as
-thick as rabbits!  Their lordships and
-the young lady h'is a coming, sir."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That'll do," as Flash stood bowing
-and scraping.  "I can't stand the
-crawling ways of these English
-servants," remarked Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Neither can I," said Glen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Mr. Flash, look where you're
-going!" exclaimed Kitty, as Flash ran
-precipitately against her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Kitty!"—he bowed
-exaggeratedly—"ten thousand pardons!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Give an account of yourself!  Where
-are the folks?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They're h'on the lake.  We 'ad a
-fine day's sport!  I've never seen 'is
-lordship in good temper for twelve
-consecutive hours before.  And their
-h'appetites, bless 'em!"—Flash whirled
-the basket in the air—"the h'eatables
-'ave vanished and they've drained the
-bottles!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's good!" said Kitty, relieving
-him of the basket.  Flash sank down
-on a rustic bench with a sigh of fatigue.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So the lordships are enjoying
-themselves?"  Kitty seated herself beside
-him and looked meditatively at her
-shoes.  "A lucky day for them when
-they fell in with the Stillwaters!  We
-are celebrated for being magnificent
-entertainers."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you?" said Flash, with a stare
-that comprehended every detail of
-her trim personality.  Kitty was a
-source of much entertainment to him,
-besides being an unending study and a
-continuous novelty.  Kitty, conscious
-of the stare, rose with a toss of her
-chestnut head.  "I'm going down to
-the lake to watch for the folks."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Stay 'ere, Miss Kitty!" pleaded
-Flash.  "Don't compel me to mount
-this 'ill again!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's really no necessity that you
-should accompany me, Mr. Flash."  She
-deposited the basket within, and
-strolled down through the trees.  Flash
-surveyed her from where he was
-sitting.  Her smooth, shining hair was
-mounted by a modish black bow.  She
-wore a little dainty, ruffled apron.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very neat!" he murmured, then
-rose with an effort and caught up with
-her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a big thing, as you say in
-h'America, to be 'unting and 'unting for
-miles and miles, and still be 'unting on
-your own 'unting grounds."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should say so!  Mr. Stillwater
-bought up all that land you're talking
-about, years ago.  It's worth ten times
-more now than what he paid for it.  It's
-for that model farm."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"H'if all you've been telling me h'is
-true, I'm glad.  I'm an h'expert on
-farming.  I 'ave never seen h'anything
-like you describe, h'even in Devonshire."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The farm's only a fad of Mr. Stillwater's.
-You should see our home in Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, Kitty," he looked confidentially
-in her face, "'ow much is 'e
-estimated at?  Say two 'undred thousand pounds?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Kitty laughed contemptuously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Three?  Five?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Flash, you're quite a nice
-young man, but you're very unexperienced.
-A man who knows how rich
-he is, is not a rich man in America.
-He's only well off.  Mr. Stillwater has
-reached that stage where money is
-never even mentioned!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"H'is it possible!" exclaimed Flash.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I see the folks.  So in
-future, Mr. Flash, when they say a
-man's rich in America you will
-understand he is not limited to figures."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>William was rowing them all in.
-They were talking and laughing in the
-highest spirits.  Mrs. Bunker came
-down through the trees in her scarlet
-cape, still holding her work.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A most enjoyable day's sport,
-Mrs. Bunker," said Lord Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You did bravely to-day, Miss Stillwater,"
-praised Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not </span><em class="italics">Still*water," said Indiana, in a
-drawling voice.  "Still*water</em><span>."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid I shall never conquer
-your proper names.  As for your
-wonderful charms—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll give you a lesson," interrupted
-Indiana.  "Suppose you saw a chubby
-little partridge over there in the scrub
-fern and wanted to bag him—what
-would you say?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning took his gun and levelled
-it in the direction indicated.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should say, I'm afraid the little
-fellow's out of gunshot, but I'll try."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's not American—to be afraid!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, you'd guess."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I—guess—when there's game to
-bring down!  Never!"  She seized
-her gun and levelled it at him.  "I'd
-just bag him!  Aren't you afraid?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," looking at her meaningly,
-"ready and eager to be sacrificed!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana dropped her gun, laughing
-rather coquettishly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good hunting, Indiana?" asked
-Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good hunting, Grandma Chazy,"
-answered Indiana, with a comprehensive
-look at Lord Stafford.  "You see
-we know our Kipling, Lord Canning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've ordered tea in the boat-house,"
-said Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad you did.  It would be a
-pity to leave the lake to-day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Up in the cozy little room of the
-boat-house the logs were crackling.
-Gay sporting prints adorned the green
-walls.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you have this chair, Miss
-Stillwater?  Right this time?  So glad!
-It was quite an effort, I assure
-you."  He thought as he drew her chair near
-the fire—"Perhaps I shall not be obliged
-to make the effort long.  What an endless
-source of pleasure it will be to call
-her—Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose you're all dying for a cup
-of tea," said Mrs. Bunker, seating herself
-at the tea-table, while Lord Stafford
-sank into an arm-chair near the fire,
-warming his hands at the blaze.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are the rest?" inquired Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your father and mother are having
-their tea together on the balcony.
-They're perfectly happy.  I believe,
-Glen's there too."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The devotion of your father and
-mother is very touching to me,"
-remarked Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They've always been like that—ever
-since I can remember," said Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's very beautiful to see, in these
-days of marital indifference and
-incompatibility."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll be lovers to the end of the
-chapter," declared Mrs. Bunker.  "And
-there's Lord Stafford enjoying his
-single blessedness.  Think what you're
-missing!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha!  Yes, Mrs. Bunker, but
-at present this delightful cup of tea is a
-great consolation."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What have you found most interesting
-in the States, Lord Canning?"
-asked Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I should say—" he hesitated,
-holding his cup and gazing
-contemplatively out at the lake.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be afraid to commit
-yourself," added Mrs. Bunker, quickly.
-"You English hate to make a positive
-assertion."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite so, Mrs. Bunker," returned
-Lord Canning amusedly.  "We think
-more slowly than you do—and you have
-asked me a very difficult question."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll answer it for you," volunteered
-Indiana.  "Your uncle has come to
-America to shoot things, and you for
-scientific purposes—ostensibly.  But
-you spend night after night over your
-brandy and soda, discussing the
-American woman."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Remarkable!" ejaculated Lord
-Stafford, adjusting his monocle and
-staring at Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you find us out, Miss
-Stillwater?" Lord Canning laughed heartily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford drew his chair closer
-to the tea-table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you not a very remarkable
-woman, Mrs. Bunker, even in this
-country of remarkable women?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll find women like me all over
-the States.  You see we don't become
-old before our time—to make way for
-the girls.  I had my daughter to rear,
-and I did it as well as I knew how.
-Then I superintended my granddaughter's
-training.  Now she's a woman,
-I'm commencing all over again on my
-account."  She laughed heartily at the
-serious countenance with which Lord
-Stafford heard her explanation.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Remarkable, Lord Stafford, or
-bewildering—which?"  She smiled
-archly into his face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Charming, this time, charming, I
-assure you!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The lake looks so blue and enticing
-from here!  Shall we drink our
-second cup on the balcony, Miss Stillwater?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana assenting, Lord Canning
-brought her empty cup to Mrs. Bunker.
-"Make yourself comfortable in
-the hammock, Miss Stillwater.  I will
-be out directly, with a fresh supply."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't spill it, Lord Canning!
-Really your hand is very steady—a
-good sign!  Another—with me, Lord Stafford?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I will take another with you, Mrs. Bunker."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He returned the cup and leaned
-comfortably back in his chair, enjoying
-the cosiness of his surroundings—the
-proximity of the fire, the blue lake
-shining in the distance, and the
-domestic picture afforded by Mrs. Bunker at
-the tea-table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How is it that a good catch like you
-has escaped the matrimonial anglers so
-long?" she asked confidentially, as she
-sipped her tea.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford stirred his cup in
-amused embarrassment, quite at a loss
-for an answer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, why don't you marry?" continued
-Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Er—er—I'm rather sensitive about
-being asked such personal questions,"
-gasped Lord Stafford.  "My own
-sister never asked me that!"  He
-resumed a reminiscent expression.  "She
-asked me if I should marry, but never
-why—never why!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll tell me, won't you?" urged
-Mrs. Bunker, sweetly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, by George, I declare I've
-never even asked myself that question!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I should be quick!  Start an
-investigation committee and find out
-something about yourself.  You don't
-know how long you are going to live."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker, one never knows
-what you are going to say next."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The lake has a ruby necklace,"
-remarked Lord Canning, looking up
-from his note-book, in which he had
-been writing while Indiana rested in
-the hammock.  The deep red coloring
-of the bank mirrored along the shore
-as far as one could see.  "Ah, there is
-Mr. Masters going out in a canoe!"  He
-watched Glen's well-knit figure as
-he paddled with swift, unerring strokes,
-clearing a perfectly straight line down
-the centre of the lake.  "A very fine
-specimen of young manhood," he
-thought.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Later there was a tinge of rose on
-the mountains, gradually fading into
-purple.  Glen remained on the lake
-watching the sunset.  His solitary
-canoe rested in a spot commanding a
-view of White Face Mountain—that
-which Lord Canning had called the
-Mount of Perfection.  Its giant shadow
-lay on the lake, with the purple glow on
-its towering peak.  He was discouraged
-and depressed.  The transient
-purple glow on the water reflected
-itself in his spirit for the moment.  Then
-it faded, leaving the dark shadow of the
-mountain on the lake and a chill in the
-air.  He paddled slowly homeward.
-He had isolated himself from the rest
-lately and spent his time restlessly
-roaming the woods with his gun, which
-lay for the most part neglected beside
-him, while he asked constantly of a
-blue patch in the pines why he should
-be robbed of his birthright of
-happiness.  The pines, bending and sighing
-over him, whispered always the same
-consolation, as a sad nun, weeping with
-the stricken, will speak the lesson of
-submission she has learned, and,
-knowing nothing else, repeat it many times
-again.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-moonlight-picnic"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A Moonlight Picnic.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>They were all jubilant during
-dinner at the prospect of the
-moonlight picnic.  When they emerged
-'The Indiana' waited at the dock,
-illuminated with colored lanterns.  The
-camp-fire burned brightly as usual.
-Haller sat on the steps with a lantern,
-ready to light them down to the lake.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just eight," said Stillwater, looking
-at his watch.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No hurry," assured Mrs. Bunker.
-"This is to be an all-night affair."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Haller chuckled.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dissipation in the woods—fancy!"
-remarked Lord Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The electric lights on the balcony
-were arranged to give only a subdued
-glow.  Glen played his mandolin softly
-while coffee was served, his eyes fixed
-on Lord Canning and Indiana, who
-were talking in a very gay, lively strain.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The Pacific coast is a great
-hunting ground, Lord Stafford," began
-Stillwater.  "I've heard stories about
-bands of elk that once roamed the San
-Joaquin Valley in California, living on
-plains same as the buffaloes—miles
-away from anything like cover."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Remarkable!" said Lord Stafford,
-while Haller listened with
-open-mouthed surprise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You see there was no demand for
-them before the discovery of gold, but
-when the miners came they wanted
-meat.  And then there were travelling
-bands of bloodthirsty explorers.  They
-and the miners murdered everything in
-sight—the white man generally does.
-I was told that the great novelist
-Dumas landed there in 1849, and one of
-his first performances was to kill an elk
-in Sacramento Valley."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, an interesting fact!  These
-vast herds of elk retreated—where?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"To the Great Red Woods."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Haller," called Glen, "I'd like to
-climb White Face to-morrow; it's such
-clear weather."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis clear," replied Haller.  "Liable
-to have snow on White Face."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you going to put me in your
-book?" asked Indiana.  "Am I the
-type of American woman you will describe?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not going to put you in my
-book," answered Lord Canning.  "I
-am going to put you—well, never
-mind.  You are not the type—you are
-a type."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's so," assented Indiana.
-"The states are too large for any one
-distinctive type of woman.  We all
-have that 'must-be-up-and-doing' kind
-of spirit.  You call it 'nervous
-activity.'  The Southern girl is neutrally
-active; the Eastern girl aggressively
-active."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The Western girl—" suggested
-Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Judge for yourself."  She stood
-before him, her hands clasped behind
-her.  "Physically light weight, but
-strong.  I can climb a tree, vault a
-fence, ride a horse bareback, straddle
-and side-saddle.  Mentally
-light-weight, but bright, with an enormous
-faculty for devouring literature, good,
-bad and indifferent.  I love good music,
-and the impressionist school of
-painting.  Character undeveloped;
-politically, an expansionist.  I believe in the
-imperialistic policy, in annexation—stretching
-out and grabbing everything
-I can get."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Bravo!  Charming!" exclaimed
-Lord Canning, clapping his hands.
-"You are most interesting."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"As a study—or—or—a woman."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Both," said Lord Canning.  "When
-I cease to study your imperfections, I
-commence to love them."  He bent
-over her, looking into her eyes.  Glen
-struck a discord on the mandolin.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suggest that we start," interrupted
-Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning stood seriously gazing
-into the fire in the hall, while the ladies
-donned their wraps.  His face
-brightened when he saw Indiana on the little
-balcony behind the Persian rug.  She
-had put on a long white circular.  The
-hood, edged with swansdown, made a
-pretty frame for her little flushed face.
-Her eyes, with their dilating pupils,
-looked dark under the yellow hair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come down, little snow maiden!
-Or, are you afraid you will melt away in
-the heat of the fire?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He met her at the foot of the stairs,
-and took her hand in a tender pressure.
-Mrs. Bunker coughed slightly behind
-them, and Indiana ran quickly out on
-the balcony, leaving Lord Canning
-under the amused fire of Mrs. Bunker's
-bright eyes.  She shook her finger at
-him, and would have followed Indiana,
-but Lord Canning did not wish to be
-taken so lightly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker," he said in a low,
-intense voice, grasping the balustrade,
-"one moment, if you please.  It may
-not be considered anything in America
-when a man of my age is seen holding
-the hand of such a very young girl, but,
-I am not a believer in light
-sentiment—flirting, perhaps, would be the term.
-I love your granddaughter!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's easy enough to see that,"
-laughed Mrs. Bunker.  It was always
-amusing to her when people took
-themselves so seriously.  "You have
-my good wishes.  I have always thought
-very highly of you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She held out her hand, which he
-pressed gratefully in his.  "Thank
-you, Mrs. Bunker.  Have you any idea
-if—if she cares for me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The little minx is too smart for
-me," answered Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She is so non-committal," said
-Lord Canning.  "I know she esteems
-me and all that; at times, I have fancied
-that I even interest her.  But as to—"
-he gazed gloomily into the fire.  "Well,
-it will be necessary for me to clinch
-things very soon, time is passing with
-dangerous rapidity—but still passing.
-Mrs. Bunker, when I met you in
-Cannes over a year ago, I did not know
-what a great influence you were fated
-to throw on my life.  If she loves me,
-I will never forget that it is through you—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't thank me—yet," said Mrs. Bunker,
-shrewdly.  "Wait until you're
-married a year."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I have no fears on that score,"
-asserted Lord Canning, with a very
-self-confident air.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't know Indiana.  If you
-attempted to cross her, she'd tear your
-hair out!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed
-Lord Canning, laughing heartily.
-"Don't think you can frighten me by
-a little thing like that!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If I thought so," reflected Mrs. Bunker,
-"I wouldn't have told you, no
-matter how true it might be.  Oh,
-nothing would stop you now, Lord
-Canning!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing!  I have lived a very
-matter-of-fact life—never very miserable,
-or the other extreme.  I have had
-great satisfaction in my work.  Now
-it's time I snatched a little happiness."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed it is," said Mrs. Bunker, in
-a soothing voice.  Men, to her, were
-like big children—to be humored.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They had moved gradually toward
-the fire.  "These logs," continued Lord
-Canning, "are a magnet towards which
-my eyes have been drawn every night
-since I came.  If you knew what I see
-in them—such a sweet domestic
-picture, a vision of true happiness!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, don't depend too much on
-Indiana's domesticity," said Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We generally gauge a daughter by
-her mother, in England," stated Lord
-Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, it's different over here.  The
-young generation are so precocious—so
-far ahead of the mothers."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not call it an advance.  The
-daughters would do well to copy their
-mothers in their allegiance to the
-home.  I hope, if Indiana does me
-the honor to consent—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you can have that out with
-her.  She may be a model of domesticity,
-but you never know how a girl's
-going to develop.  You can't be sure
-of everything"—she laughed
-mockingly—"that's the risk of marriage."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am staking everything on this one
-card—marriage," said Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why will you men play so high?"
-queried Mrs. Bunker, laughing again,
-as she swept out on the balcony.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" echoed Lord Canning,
-looking into the fire.  His dark eyes
-smiled at what he saw there—the
-picture he had described in the glowing
-logs, had been his answer.  "Yes, it is
-time I snatched a little happiness—how
-little, after all!  The rest of my natural
-life seems short enough to love her in."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We're going, Lord Canning," called
-Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He hurried out, offering his arm to
-Indiana, as the procession followed
-Haller down to the boat-house.  The
-lake by moonlight was a scene of such
-mysterious beauty that no one felt
-inclined to talk.  Lord Canning was
-somewhat disposed to question the
-reality of his surroundings.  He was
-drifting down a silvery sea of
-enchantment, Indiana's white-robed form at
-his side.  Oblivious of criticism, he
-scarcely took his eyes from her young
-face, etherealized in the moonlight.
-Glen watched his loverlike attitude,
-with growing anger.  To the various
-camps along the lake, the illuminated
-launch, passing with the faint strains of
-the mandolin, presented quite a fairy-like
-spectacle.  Later, driving through
-the country, they were all talkative and
-lively, regaling the night with choruses,
-Glen playing and singing with a gayety
-he was far from feeling.  Stillwater,
-who drove, complied, unhesitatingly, to
-a request for the old road.  Lord
-Canning sat silent and spellbound the
-entire way, watching the stream winding
-before him—touched with tremulous
-waves of silver; the little islands
-dreaming in a moonlit haze.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>William had been sent over to prepare,
-early in the afternoon.  When the
-party arrived, the falls were illuminated
-by colored lanterns, decorating the
-rustic bridges, and hanging from the trees.
-They added a fantastic beauty to the
-natural wildness of the spot.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sure I am dreaming," said
-Lord Canning, as he stood alone with
-Indiana on one of the rustic bridges,
-listening to the roar of the waters and
-watching the many-colored lights
-trembling on the moonlit falls.  "Studying
-late into the night, I fell asleep in my
-library at home.  Jennings will come
-in soon and poke the fire, and I shall
-awake—in England!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>At twelve they sat down to a large
-supper-table.  Kitty, Flash, and the two
-guides were in attendance.  Lord
-Canning related some interesting
-adventures, and Stillwater taxed his memory
-for humorous experiences, which met
-with the hearty appreciation of his
-guests, who were very susceptible to
-the dry wit of the American.  Glen
-complied whenever he was asked to
-sing, between the stories, but otherwise
-he was distinctly out of tune with the
-prevailing high spirits.  He had been
-wrought up to the highest pitch of
-jealousy, by the absence of Lord Canning
-and Indiana from the rest, before
-supper.  The entire evening appealed to
-him more as a nightmare than a festivity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Friends," began Stillwater, in
-response to a toast from Lord Canning,
-"I'm in the best of health and spirits.
-My family are all around me"—he
-rested his hand on his wife's head—"I
-hope to keep them so, for many a long
-day.  We can't reckon on the future,
-but to-night I'm a happy man!"  He
-kissed his wife, whose eyes had filled
-with a quick rush of tears.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana jumped up and threw herself
-upon his breast, with a very sure
-premonition that she would soon leave him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Our host again!" proposed Lord
-Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His nephew drank the toast, feeling
-a sense of guilt that he was destined so
-shortly to ruffle the calm sea of
-Stillwater's domestic horizon.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My distinguished guests have announced
-their intention of returning to
-England"—holding Indiana against his
-breast.  "May they find their dear
-ones well and happy, and Godspeed to
-them!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Godspeed to them!" echoed Glen.
-"And a quick leave-taking!" he thought
-grimly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker's happy philosophy was
-colored for the moment with a tinge of
-pessimism.  "What a blind game it
-is," she whispered to Lord Canning.
-"He may be wishing 'Godspeed' to
-the baby I laid in his arms.  Look at
-Indiana, she hasn't raised her head."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Indiana," said Stillwater,
-"aren't you going to drink 'Godspeed'
-to them?"  He held the glass
-to her lips, raising her head from his
-breast.  Their eyes were all upon
-her,—Lord Canning's tenderly anxious, his
-uncle's laughing, Mrs. Bunker's
-significant, and Glen's suspicious and
-jealous.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Godspeed to them!" she repeated,
-gaily raising her glass.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When they finally arose from supper,
-Glen immediately disappeared.  "I
-must get away from that awful white
-light," he thought, walking restlessly
-through the dark woods.  "It's beating
-on my brain and driving me mad."
-His soul foreboded very truly that
-Indiana was lost to him.  The soul is our
-Cassandra.  It mourns and prophecies,
-while the heart is forever holding a
-carnival.  A young girl decking herself
-with flowers for a fete.  There is a
-shrouded form behind her in the
-mirror.  It whispers, "Those flowers are
-blossoms of death.  The fete for which
-you are robing, is a funeral."  But,
-unhearing, unseeing, thinking of lovers
-and dancing, she decks herself in the
-mirror, a song on her lips.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Scarcely knowing where his feet
-were leading him, he found himself
-on the bridge directly over the falls.
-"She never notices me—I don't exist
-for her!"  He looked down into the
-falls.  "Living's only a fever after
-all—a mad fever of longing and jealousy.
-I'd gladly end it, down there—if it
-wasn't for the folks.  Ambition! glory!
-I'd fling them all to the winds for the
-choice of pressing her little yellow
-head to my heart, just once, to still
-this horrible throbbing!  If I had been
-brought home wounded and dying,
-she'd have sobbed beside me, and I'd
-have comforted her in my weak arms.
-Then she might have said, 'I love you,
-Glen dear!' just to make me happy—before
-the end.  I would have fallen
-peacefully asleep then, blessing her.
-A happy death, to have died for my
-country, holding her to my breast, as
-my life bled away.  Better than
-this—this fever called 'living'."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A hand was laid on his shoulder.
-"We're going home, my boy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'm sorry"—he pressed his
-hand to his forehead—"I'm sorry that
-you were obliged to look for me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater scrutinized Glen's set,
-white face.  "The Englishmen are
-going.  Things will come your way—soon."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll never come my way," sighed
-Glen, "except, perhaps, when I've
-ceased to care."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems to me that nothing is
-worth what I've been suffering—not
-even Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She isn't," assured Stillwater,
-unhesitatingly, delighted at this conclusion.
-"Turn over a new leaf.  Show her
-you're indifferent.  She'll think all the
-more of you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford was patting the ponies,
-while Haller arranged the harness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If you'll be kind enough to jump
-in, Lord Stafford," cried Mrs. Bunker,
-"we may reach home in time for
-breakfast!  Come now, Haller, you've
-been fumbling long enough with that
-harness!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Haller grinned at Lord Stafford.
-"That woman's full of life," he
-remarked, "I admire her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The devil you do!" exclaimed Lord
-Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As they started they all sung "On
-the Banks of the Wabash."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The moon was fading when they
-embarked on 'The Indiana.'</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The lake presents an unearthly
-appearance in this silver twilight,"
-remarked Lord Canning.  "It is
-vanishing quickly.  There's still a parting
-gleam touching the dark pines here
-and there—lingering like the last caress
-of a dying hand.  Everything is
-becoming vague.  The world is fading
-away from us.  How fascinating—these
-last few moments before the dawn.
-Ah, it is breaking!  That suggestion
-of dark shore—this pale light on the
-black lake.  Why, we are on the River
-Styx.  Haller doesn't look unlike
-Charon.  I can see you dimly, Miss
-Stillwater—a little ghost in your white
-cloak.  We are all ghosts."  He
-lowered his voice.  "I am positive that
-Mr. Masters sitting there, with his
-mandolin, could not present a more tragic
-figure if his eternal punishment were to
-play for the amusement of all the
-shades crossing to Hades!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana laughed.  Glen bit his lips
-savagely.  It sounded to him like the
-mocking laugh he had heard in his
-dreams, on the farm in the West, that
-miserable week when he had exiled
-himself.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The morning mists floated above
-them, growing denser.  The clouds
-reflecting in the glassy lake, exposed
-only a fringe of red foliage.  Gradually
-the mists were tinged with a faint
-opaline glow, deepening gradually.
-The sun rose as they neared Camp
-Indiana.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="leading-to-the-altar"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Leading to the Altar.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Glen did not renounce his
-original intention of climbing White
-Face mountains.  He slept for two
-hours, breakfasted, and started for
-White Face trail at ten o'clock.  There
-was no one stirring at the camp.
-When he returned it was four in the
-afternoon.  He found Indiana lying in
-the hammock on the balcony, Lord
-Canning, seated beside her, reading
-poetry aloud.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen threw himself into a chair.
-"I'm pretty well used up!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should think so," said Indiana,
-"climbing White Face after being up
-all night!  I'll order some tea for you,
-and then you'd better go to bed."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She sprang from the hammock and
-disappeared, returning again in a moment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Indiana.  I'm glad I
-went.  It was magnificent!  The view
-as clear as possible, and snow on the
-summit!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought we might see you and
-Haller from the lake, but I couldn't
-get Lord Canning away from the camp
-to-day.  He was so lazy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning smiled.  He had his
-own reasons for staying home, having
-resolved not to let the day pass without
-speaking to his host of the subject of
-Indiana.  So far there had been no
-opportunity.  The family did not appear
-until lunch-time, and ever since,
-Stillwater had been closeted, writing
-business letters.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Though excessively fatigued, Glen
-felt immeasurably better for climbing
-White Face.  The physical tax had
-cleared his brain.  He had been
-exhilarated by the cold, rare air on the
-summit.  He drank his tea with a
-pleasurable sense of lassitude, and, his
-eyes fixed on Indiana swinging in the
-hammock, replied rather absently to
-Lord Canning's questions regarding
-the ascent.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning rose, closing his Tennyson.
-"I think I'll stroll down to the
-lake, Miss Stillwater, if you don't
-mind."  He smiled at Glen, with a feeling of
-generosity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana looked after him thoughtfully
-as he strolled down through the
-trees.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He's a thorough gentleman—so
-unobtrusive.  He never asks prying
-questions—and he's never in the way."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Too slow for me," replied Glen,
-watching her narrowly.  "But I suppose
-you must have someone to flirt with."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana swung slowly.  "Perhaps—I'm
-in earnest—this time!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen rose and grasped her wrist
-tightly.  "Don't say that, Indy!
-While you're single I shall never give
-up hope.  Now, what's in the way?
-I'm not your inferior in education.
-Do you know any handsomer fellow
-than I?"—with a grim affectation of
-humor.  "If it's for money—I have all
-you'll ever want."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I must marry a man of the world.
-I want to live in the world.  We're
-both undeveloped—I'm not a woman
-yet, nor you a man."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't consider I'm not a man,"
-said Glen scornfully, "until I have
-conquered no end of women, and have
-their broken hearts for trophies, like an
-Indian with a string of scalps.  I love
-one woman, and if she won't have me—well,
-I'll not give up until I see her
-tied pretty tightly to another man."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not worth it, Glen."  She
-caught his arm, gazing earnestly up
-into his face, "I'm not worth all your
-devotion."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know you have faults enough,
-but, God help me, I love you all the
-better for them."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Everybody loves my faults," said
-Indiana, impatiently.  "That's the
-trouble with me.  If I could only find
-some one who would hate them and
-try to cure them."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't be harsh to you, Indy.
-If you killed me, I'd die blessing you.
-You nearly did for me once—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it wasn't your fault—you were
-too young to know better."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana sprang from the hammock.
-"Glen, what wasn't my fault?" she
-demanded, fiercely.  "What did I do?
-You shall tell me!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All right.  But don't get in a
-temper.  I swore I'd never throw it up to you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't tease me, Glen," said Indiana,
-imploringly, "tell me—quickly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen pushed his hair back from his
-right temple.  "Do you see that?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," uttered Indiana, in a frightened
-voice, "a deep, white scar."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You did that."  She recoiled,
-looking at it in horror.  "You threw
-a pair of scissors at me—in one of your
-tantrums."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, no, no!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You were too young to remember,
-and they took you away so that the
-sight of the blood shouldn't frighten
-you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Glen!" cried Indiana, "how
-could I?  And you're always so
-good—you never even hated me for it.
-Oh, Glen!"  She took his head in her
-hands and kissed the scar impulsively.
-"Forgive me—forgive me!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, is there a chance for me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're not going to marry that
-Englishman?" he said, fiercely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He hasn't asked me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, Glen.  Promise me
-you won't say anything to him about
-that," pointing to the scar.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've never thought of it myself,"
-said Glen, sadly, "since then.  I'm
-sorry I told you if—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you for telling me.  I'm glad
-I know.  It hurts me, though—right
-here."  She put her hand to her heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I'm blue, but I'll get over it.
-To think I could hurt you, or anybody,
-like that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Indy, don't think about it.
-This scar is healed—long ago.  You've
-hurt me here, far worse than that."  He
-took her hand and pressed it to his
-heart.  "There's a wound here it'll take
-many a long day to heal."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Glen!  Oh, Glen!" she moaned,
-piteously, trying to wrest her hand
-away.  But he held it tightly over his
-heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know what you want—I
-don't believe you know yourself—I
-don't believe you realize what you're
-doing—you're too young to know.
-You're throwing away a rare, pure
-love, Indiana, as though it were a
-soiled ribbon.  I'm not a man of the
-world, but I know what that means in
-life—you don't.  It's all that counts in
-the long run.  I don't say another man
-couldn't love you, but no one will ever
-love you better—remember that, won't
-you?  And that mine is not a love
-which has sprung up suddenly—it has
-taken deep roots in my life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's horrible to think I could hurt
-anyone like that," repeated Indiana,
-mechanically, looking at the scar on
-his forehead.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the least.  Think of the
-wound here," he repeated.  "You
-could heal it, Indiana."  He opened
-his arms.  He might have won her by
-his very insistence, if it were not that
-the idea of another—a different life
-from what she had known—had shed
-its glamour upon her, the glamour of
-the new and strange.  She would not
-trust herself to look at his dark,
-quivering face, but turned away and mounted
-the stairs, slowly, to her room, seeing
-him very clearly as she went, standing
-with his arms extended.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Later, Mrs. Stillwater found Glen
-sitting alone on the balcony, looking
-vacantly on the lake.  He did not
-notice her, until she went up to him,
-putting her arm about his neck.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter, Glen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indy won't have me—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You've asked her, then?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen nodded.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm so sorry, so sorry."  She
-smoothed his hair gently.  "I've always
-hoped it would be—some day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I haven't given—up—hope—yet,"
-he said, doggedly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She kept smoothing his hair, until
-Lord Canning joined them.  Then Glen
-rose abruptly and went up to his room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Our young hero seems depressed,"
-said Lord Canning, quietly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's about Indiana," replied
-Mrs. Stillwater, very much distressed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He's a fine fellow, but, if you'll
-pardon me for saying so, Mrs. Stillwater,
-he's not the right husband for
-your daughter."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He understands her better than a
-stranger would.  He'd get along with
-her, I'm sure."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it so difficult to get along with
-her?" enquired Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I didn't mean that," replied
-Mrs. Stillwater, quickly.  "There's no
-one more lovable and easy, if she's
-studied."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you think of me as a
-husband for your daughter?" said Lord
-Canning, quietly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Canning, you're not in earnest?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not?  I should like to take
-my place in the matrimonial competition,
-if you have no objection."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at him, standing there
-with such apparent composure.  "What
-objection could I have to a man like
-you?  But, I'm not the one to be
-consulted.  Whatever Indy decides, I must
-be satisfied with.  Oh, dear!  Oh, dear!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Stillwater, the idea is
-evidently disagreeable to you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh no, not at all.  But Indiana's
-so young, and you live so far away—and
-she is so unfit to be alone—without
-us.  But don't consider me—I have
-nothing whatever to say."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I had a pressing correspondence
-to-day, Lord Canning," said Stillwater,
-emerging upon the balcony.  His wife
-put her hand on his shoulder.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Father!  Father!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, mother, what is it?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Canning wants to marry Indy?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Does he?" asked Stillwater,
-composedly.  "Too bad—too bad."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His wife sighed heavily, and was on
-the point of leaving them, when Lord
-Canning took her hand, looking
-sympathetically into her eyes.  "Why not
-stay and help me out?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I really must go—Indy's waiting
-for me.  I never let anyone do
-anything for her.  I always lay out her
-dresses, and brush her hair, and wait on
-her.  She gets cross if I don't—and I
-love to do it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't approve of me, Mrs. Stillwater?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I do," she answered, tremulously.
-"I like you very much—you're such a
-nice, modest man for your position.
-Will you—" she hesitated, he still held
-her hand, looking inquiringly into her
-eyes, "will you wait a while and think
-it over before you ask Indy?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have waited and thought it over
-well," replied Lord Canning, in a very
-decided tone.  "I know this is very
-unusual, but, for the life of me, I
-couldn't ask a young woman to marry
-me until I was sure I would be
-acceptable to her parents."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You are, you are," assured
-Mrs. Stillwater, quickly, "but it will be a
-great trial to lose her—that's what I was
-thinking of—only that."  The tears
-rushed to her eyes.  She turned and
-mounted the stairs, hastily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother is naturally upset when she
-thinks of Indy getting married," said
-Stillwater, who had been gravely listening.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Naturally," agreed Lord Canning.
-"Suppose we walk down to the lake,"
-he added, with an Englishman's dislike
-of being overheard.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Marrying young runs in our
-family," remarked Stillwater, as they
-descended the steps.  "My wife was
-sixteen, when she married, and grandma
-only fifteen.  There's always somebody
-turning up, wanting to marry Indiana.
-But she's never been serious about
-anyone, I'm happy to say."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning looked meditatively
-upon the ground, pushing, with the tip
-of his shoe, the thick layer of pine
-needles.  Finally he looked up,
-smiling.  "If I could make her serious
-about me, would you object?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why should I?" asked Stillwater,
-dryly.  "I don't have to live with you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no," replied Lord Canning,
-accepting the remark in a serious
-sense, "there's no possible necessity
-for it."  Stillwater gave an involuntary
-chuckle, and, seating himself on a rustic
-bench built between two trees, offered
-his would-be son-in-law a cigar.  "I
-ought to feel very much honored, Lord
-Canning, but I haven't reached that
-stage of imperialism, although my
-mother-in-law is a fiend on that
-subject.  American women generally are.
-They're natural imperialists.  They head
-a despotic monarchy at home."  He
-laughed heartily, while his guest
-surveyed him gravely, lighting his cigar.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Stillwater, I hope you do not
-consider my title against me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, not at all, not at all,"
-smoking, in a very comfortable position.
-"It might help you with Indiana.  It
-would be a new fad for her.  You
-know we all have our fads.  It's a good
-thing for us, too.  Personally I like
-you.  I like you very much.
-But—er—" he hesitated, studying the lake.
-There was plainly something on his
-mind which he considered should be
-said.  Finally he rose, placing his hand
-kindly on Lord Canning's shoulder.  "I
-want to give you a quiet piece of advice,
-and if you don't take it I want you to
-consider it as never having been
-said—will you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I will, sir," said Lord Canning, gravely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't marry my daughter!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It'll never pan out.  Your ways are
-not her ways; her thoughts and your
-thoughts are as far apart as—as if she
-spoke Chinese and you Pennsylvania
-Dutch."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Stillwater, I am not easily
-frightened.  The more difficulties I
-encounter, the more determined I am
-to win."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, don't misunderstand me,"
-added Stillwater, quickly.  "My
-daughter's no worse than any other man's
-daughter—women, as women, are all
-all alike.  But we understand and know
-how to get along with them.  I married
-very young, and I continued to live
-with my wife, my mother-in-law, and
-my daughter, all different dispositions,
-without quarrelling."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I have observed and admired
-the equilibrium of your household.  It
-would be very valuable to me to know
-how you manage it.  Will you let me
-into the secret, Mr. Stillwater?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha!  Easy enough—I give in!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You give in?" Lord Canning asked,
-incredulously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Every time," replied his host,
-proudly.  "I never stand out against
-them, so they can't quarrel with
-me—and when they quarrel between
-themselves, I agree with them
-all—separately."  He looked at his guest with a
-self-congratulatory expression.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid I could not adopt that
-method," he said quietly, flicking the
-ashes from his cigar.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There," Stillwater exclaimed,
-triumphantly, "I told you it wouldn't
-do!"  They heard Mrs. Bunker laughing in the
-woods with Lord Stafford, and presently
-she came through the trees, in her
-scarlet cape, bare-headed, followed by
-her guest carrying a wicker basket,
-brimful of balsam sprigs.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We've been balsaming," she said.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg pardon," remarked Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Balsaming," she repeated.  "That's
-what they call it here—picking balsam."  She
-knocked his forehead lightly with
-her forefinger.  "See it now—or shall
-I get a hammer?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He laughed.  "My stupidity must try
-your patience at times, Mrs. Bunker."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wanted some to fill the pillow I
-am making for Lord Stafford to take
-to England—when he goes."  Lord
-Stafford offered her his arm, and,
-laughing, they continued their way to
-the camp.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you haven't much faith in
-our speedy departure—although you
-drank the toast last night, Mrs. Bunker?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not in yours—your nephew's, yes.
-But I don't imagine you'll go with him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Probably not, Mrs. Bunker.  Under
-certain circumstances, I might
-consider it advisable to prolong my trip.
-And I must say the prospect of remaining
-in America is delightful to me—most delightful."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The fact is, Lord Canning," continued
-Stillwater, "we spoil our children.
-We know it, but we can't help
-it.  The girls, mind you—the boys are
-easy enough thrown on the world—but
-the girls," he smiled fondly, "the
-pretty, little, delicate girls—how can
-you help spoiling them?  You should
-have seen Indy—"  Lord Canning's face
-assumed an expression of deep interest.
-"A doll—you could have put her in a
-quart pitcher.  She'd roll up her little
-sleeves, and fight and sass me—we'd
-roar at her.  As she grew up, it grew
-with her, and now when she gets in a
-temper, we all scatter till she's over it.
-And then she creeps under your coat,
-like a little, white mouse, and loves you
-so, with her pretty hands and her soft
-face.  Now, what can a man do?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Canning regarded his host
-reflectively.  "You begin early to make
-a rough road for the girl's future
-husband, don't you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no! Our people understand
-that every man is under the thumb of
-his wife, and is proud of it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This assertion sounded astounding
-to the listener.  Before, however, he
-could grasp its full value, he caught
-sight of Indiana's white dress among
-the pines.  As he watched her coming
-toward them, her head making a light
-advancing spot among the dark trees,
-Stillwater's friendly warning faded from
-his mind as completely as though it had
-never been given.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It all rests with her now," he thought.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why so serious?" said Indiana.
-"Let me into this secret discussion.
-If it's not snow and ice, and the North
-Pole, I know more about it than Lord
-Canning—and if it's not farming, I
-know more about it than pa."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess I'll let you fight it out with
-Indiana," remarked Stillwater, dryly.
-He looked at her, with a sigh, then
-climbed slowly up to the camp.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We were discussing many things,"
-said Lord Canning, bashfully.  "Marriage;
-the training of children—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Marriage—with pa?" replied Indiana,
-with a laugh.  "He's absolutely
-ignorant on the subject."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Remarkable," said Lord Canning,
-"considering he's seventeen years married."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that was only a boy-and-girl
-affair.  In those days it was a farm, a
-wife to do the housework—and they
-always lived happily."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish it were as simple a matter
-with you as with your mother,"
-ventured Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm different from mother.  If I
-were not, you would not—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" asked Lord Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, nothing," stooping to pick up
-a sprig of balsam, which had fallen from
-Lord Stafford's basket.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us follow that little trail down
-there beside the lake," suggested Lord
-Canning, "do you mind?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The day had been sunless.  The evening
-was still and gray, the air soft and
-balmy, without a tinge of frost.  Through
-the trees that fringed the trail, they
-caught glimpses of the glassy lake
-mirroring the gray floating clouds, and
-great masses of autumn color, with
-sometimes the intervening dark shadow
-of a group of pines.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Men to you are like a large
-correspondence, which is read carelessly,
-'answered' scribbled on the envelopes,
-then piled into pigeon holes—forgotten."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I always throw old letters away,"
-said Indiana, sweetly.  "I never accumulate rubbish."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" said Lord Canning.  He
-walked beside her for a little while,
-thinking deeply.  "How silent it is
-here," he remarked, finally.  "This
-soft carpet of pine needles muffles every
-footstep.  It seems sacrilege almost, to
-speak.  This trail seems to me like a
-dim, narrow aisle of a church, leading
-to the altar."  He looked upward at
-the glimpse of gray sky.  "Indiana, I
-am a very serious man.  I accept life as
-worth living only with serious
-aims."  They emerged upon a small open
-space in the woods, dimly lit, with a
-Turkish carpet of many-colored leaves.
-He drew Indiana down upon a fallen
-tree, covered with silvery patches of
-gray-green moss.  "My ideal of a wife
-has been an intellectual woman of my
-own world and standing.  But your little
-hands have bowled over, like a set of
-ninepins, all my long cherished traditions
-and ideas.  You have taken possession
-of me, in a way which terrifies me.  I
-am miserable away from you.  I am
-miserable with you.  I am restless,
-sleepless—you flit before me like a tantalizing
-will-o'-the-wisp, whose light draws,
-maddens me.  My pen is idle, my mail lies
-upon the table—unanswered.  Tell me,
-have I a chance with you—or let me go.
-Let me put the ocean between us, for
-self-preservation."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't wish you to think I trifle
-with marriage because I have refused
-several offers," said Indiana, seriously.
-"It's not waywardness or frivolity."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You admit, in your feeling for me,
-reason has no place.  And that your
-ideal of a wife is something entirely
-different from myself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Lord Canning. "Reason
-has no place.  It is love—love alone."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I want you to know me as I really
-am, then—if you are willing to take the
-chances—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Willing!"  He raised her hand to
-his lips.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very much spoiled," Indiana
-continued.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You have all the imperfections which
-make you charming to a lover, you will
-have all the virtues which will make
-you—divine to your husband."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I must have my own way—even
-when I'm wrong.  I'm fond of change,
-nothing pleases me long.  I'm quick
-tempered, spiteful—but I'm always
-sorry for it, after—always."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sweetheart, I have watched you
-closely.  I have seen glimpses of
-splendid feeling and heart in you, that have
-become choked by indulgence.  Other
-conditions will develop the good that is
-in you—I am quite confident of it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She looked through the trees at the
-gray lake.  "I could be different—it is
-in me—but—somehow—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He watched her face, caressing her
-hand.  "You will love my mother, dear.
-She is a type of English womanhood.
-She is not strong, and has lived a retired
-life for many years.  Our house may be
-quiet for you—at first."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't worry about that.  I'll
-make it lively enough."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Darling!"  He tried to draw her
-into his arms, but she resisted him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What more, pretty penitent?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes.  I want you to promise me that
-when I'm mad and want to do
-inconsistent things, and have my own
-way—when it's not good for me—I want you
-to promise me, no matter how much
-you love me—that you won't give in."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He laughed at her earnest little face.
-"I'm afraid I shall—I feel now as if I
-shall let you do anything, I love you so."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I won't marry you.  I've
-tried to control myself, but I can't,
-because everybody's so afraid of me.  It
-makes me much worse.  You're the
-first man I've ever taken seriously."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you love me, Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No.  I'm tired of the model farm—I'm
-tired of Grandma Chazy—I'm tired
-of Washington and New York, and I
-want to go to England."  His expression
-sank at this frank avowal, only to change
-again at her next words.  "I—I feel
-that marriage to me must mean the
-changing of every condition—or—" she
-looked imploringly into his anxious
-eyes, "I won't make a success of my
-life—and I want to be something more
-than I am—something better."  She
-added quickly, "And, I wouldn't marry
-you, if I did not think I could love
-you—some day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe in the love which comes
-after marriage," he said firmly.  "Given
-a fairly matched pair, the man the
-stronger, and there's no danger.  I'm
-sure I shall make you love me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And you promise—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I promise, no matter how much I
-suffer, I won't give in."  He clasped
-her into his arms, and kissed her
-passionately.  A sudden wave of color
-surged over her face, and she drew
-herself away, with downcast eyes.  He
-watched her anxiously, holding her
-hand.  Then he persuaded her to sit
-down beside him on the moss-grown
-trunk.  "A little sleeping soul has been
-given my into my care," he thought,
-smoothing her hair gently.  "I must
-cherish it until it wakes.  After waiting—after
-infinite patience—her love, when
-given, will be all the sweeter.  I shall
-prize it more than if it had been easily
-won.  We must wait for the most precious
-things in life.  That is the supreme
-lesson to learn—how to wait—so we
-shall be worthy of life's golden gift,
-when it comes.  It must come—the
-very power of my own love for her—the
-very force of my will, must bring it.
-Life owes it to me—her love."  He
-touched his lips to her hair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, let's go and tell the folks,"
-said Indiana.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="england"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">England.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Jennings!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yer leddyship!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought I heard carriage wheels."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not yet, yer leddyship."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning sighed, and Jennings
-sank stiffly on his knees and poked the
-fire, as he had done innumerable times
-within the hour.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Her leddyship will be ill," he
-mumbled to himself over the fire.
-"It's a terrible strain for her leddyship."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jennings!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yer leddyship."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look again!  I thought I heard
-them—this time."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings rose with difficulty, pushed
-aside the heavy draperies that screened
-the library windows, and peered
-through the fog.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not yet—yer leddyship."  He
-adjusted the curtains carefully with his
-shaking fingers.  "Will I bring the
-tea, yer leddyship?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Jennings, I will have tea with
-my son and his young wife."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"His lordship may not arrive for
-sometime—yer leddyship may be faint."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but nevertheless, I am firmly
-resolved to wait, Jennings."  She
-closed her eyes with an expression of
-resignation.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, yer leddyship," said
-Jennings, in a heart-broken voice.  He
-left the room noiselessly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning sat motionless in her
-large arm-chair near the fire.
-Approaching seventy years of age, there
-were still remnants of beauty in those
-fine, delicately cut features, slightly
-pinched through illness.  Her calm,
-impassive face seemed to have
-outlived every stage of emotion, or lived
-through the emotional stage, without
-having experienced the emotions.  For
-twenty years since the death of her
-husband she had maintained the strictest
-seclusion.  A cobweb of ivory-tinted
-lace rested on her white, carefully
-dressed hair, and a fichu of the same
-was drawn over her attenuated shoulders.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The room in which she sat was a
-proper frame for her personality.  It
-was filled with objects, some of rare
-value, that had mellowed with age.
-The years had taken from everything
-its element of aggressiveness.  The
-tapestries, the paintings, the books, the
-furniture, blended into harmony of soft
-and faded hues.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning suffered considerable
-excitement at the prospect of seeing
-her only son once more, after an
-absence of ten months, not to speak of a
-certain anxiety regarding her
-daughter-in-law.  Thurston had written, "I will
-not describe Indiana.  I wish you to
-form your own impressions."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear son had no idea I would
-suffer any suspense regarding his
-wife," she reflected, "otherwise he
-would have written me every
-particular.  He doubtless thought I would
-have every confidence in his judgment.
-And my fears have probably not the
-slightest foundation.  It seems
-impossible that my son should select a woman
-for his wife who would be unfitted for
-the position.  And yet, it appears
-strange he should have gone so far
-away from home to choose a daughter
-for me.  It is quite natural I should
-have preferred him to marry a woman
-in his own sphere, from another old,
-conservative English family.  I should
-have felt surer, then, that there would
-have been no after-complications.  There
-are so few left of the real conservative
-families.  The watchword of the others
-is 'Progress.'  They grasp, all too
-quickly, every new idea that claims
-to be an improvement on the old.  But
-we are more careful—we cling to our
-traditions—our old ideals of life.
-There are none better.  There is Lady
-Isabel Waring—still unmarried, not a
-beauty—but great caste—great caste.
-She would have been devoted to me."  Lady
-Canning sighed and opened her eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings was lighting the candles in
-the tall, many-branching candelabras
-on the mantel.  The Canning mansion,
-in common with other old London
-homes, had been fitted up with every
-modern improvement, including
-electric lights; but Lady Canning, when
-she was alone, still clung to the
-old-fashioned candle-light, claiming it was
-softer, more agreeable for her eyes.
-Jennings was still allowed to perform
-the function of many years, much to
-his delight.  He had a deep-rooted
-hatred of all innovations.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This suspense is quite natural,"
-thought Lady Canning, "in spite of
-my confidence in Thurston.  I am a
-mother.  A mother fears everything—and
-hopes everything."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings suddenly paused in his
-occupation and inclined his head,
-listening.  Then he blew out his taper, and
-hurried to the window.  "They're
-here, yer leddyship!  Yer leddyship!"  His
-voice quivered with excitement,
-and he looked apprehensively at his
-mistress, as though he feared she
-might faint or give way in some
-respect.  She rose, supporting herself
-upon a cane.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jennings," she said in a strong
-voice, "you had better join the other
-servants in the hall.  You will be the
-first for whom your master will look."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye—es, yer leddyship."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am prepared for anything,"
-thought Lady Canning.  "But no
-matter how unfavorably I may be
-impressed at first sight, I must control my
-feelings for Thurston's sake.  He will
-naturally be sensitive regarding her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston presented a beaming face
-to the servants, lining the hall, as he
-entered with his bride.  Before he
-greeted them, he took Indiana in his
-arms and pressed a kiss on her lips.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Welcome to your new home, my
-dearest wife!  I'm glad to see you all,"
-he added, in heartfelt tones.
-"Jennings, you're looking well!"  He
-pressed both the old man's hands in his.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Welcome home, yer lordship, yer lordship!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, this is Jennings.  You've
-heard me speak of him.  He's been in
-the family since I was a child."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana's blue eyes smiled into those
-of the old Scotchman.  "How do you
-do, Jennings?" she said, with a friendly
-handshake.  Jennings carried her hand,
-with a shaking motion, to his lips.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"His lordship's young wife," he
-murmured, looking with ecstatic
-delight into her face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My mother, Jennings?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Her leddyship's well, yer lordship.
-Her leddyship's in the library."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He hurried before them, but Thurston
-rushed past him, carrying Indiana
-on his arm, his hand clasped on hers.
-They laughed back at the old man, and
-he echoed the laugh childishly, with
-tears in his eyes.  "You can't
-announce us, Jennings!" cried Thurston.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning was still standing, with
-stately repose, by the fire.  There was
-no trace, on her calm face, of the
-agitation she had been suffering, beyond an
-expression of pleasurable anticipation—the
-only visible sign of feeling in which
-she would allow herself to indulge.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear son!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He held her in a prolonged embrace.
-When he finally released her, she
-applied a morsel of lace to her eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My wife, mother," he said in a
-voice of immeasurable content and
-pride, placing Indiana in her arms.
-"Your daughter, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning was conscious of
-holding a morsel of humanity in her arms
-and of pressing her lips to a childish
-cheek.  Then, as she surveyed her, she
-received an impression of something
-very young and small, with the
-coloring of an apple-blossom, whose
-deep-blue eyes met hers, struggling between
-consciousness, laughter and tears.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Realizing that her vague fears had
-no worse foundation than this childish
-creature, daintily costumed, her relief
-was so great that she took her in her
-arms again and pressed another kiss on
-her forehead.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Though Thurston had been perfectly
-confident of the effect Indiana would
-produce, he was none the less delighted
-at this mark of favorable impression.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear child," said Lady
-Canning, "you must look upon me as a
-mother—you are still too young to be
-without one."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>In order to control her tears, Indiana
-bit her handkerchief, which she was
-nervously rolling in her hands.  The
-difference between her mother's last
-despairing kiss and the touch of Lady
-Canning's calm lips, was too strong.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You no doubt wish to go to your
-apartments now, my dear," said Lady Canning, kindly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I should," agreed Indiana
-with a little, nervous laugh.  She was
-quite indifferent about going to her
-apartments just then, but there was
-such a sure assumption of her
-acquiescence in Lady Canning's tone it was
-almost equivalent to an order.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston, ring for Watson.  We
-will have tea presently.  You are
-longing for some tea, my dear, are you not?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Indiana, feeling that it
-was expected of her to say so.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Watson, show Lady Canning her
-apartment.  They have been newly
-furnished for you, my dear child, and I
-have not only followed Thurston's
-written injunctions, but, in addition,
-carried out some of my own."  Thurston
-raised her hand, which he was holding,
-to his lips.  She smiled on him fondly.
-"I hope you will like your rooms, Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure I shall, Lady Canning,"
-said Indiana, with a bright smile and a
-mental resolve to like them very much.
-She had recovered from the tearful
-stage and felt now quite equal to her
-surroundings.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And you will find your maid a very
-competent person—she brought the
-highest references," added Lady Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston led her to the door,
-pressing a kiss on her forehead.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is everyone old here?" thought
-Indiana, as Watson, a very elderly woman
-with snow-white hair, led the way,
-mounting the stairs with difficulty.  "I
-don't like old people to wait on me.  I
-shall feel more like waiting on
-them."  However, she found the maid Lady
-Canning had selected, a very young,
-cheerful person.  The gloomy
-impression she had received below was
-counteracted by her own suite of rooms,
-which were cheerfully and lightly
-furnished, in the daintiest of coloring.
-The boudoir was hung in shades
-varying from rose to palest pink; the
-ceiling hollowed and tinted to imitate
-a sea-shell; fairy-like crystal fixtures
-gleamed from the walls.  There were a
-few treasures of art here and there
-amidst the draperies.  A Greuze, hung
-in the best light, attracted Indiana
-immediately.  Pink roses filled every
-available spot, in fragile vases of
-Venetian glass of the dolphin design.
-Indiana felt an impulse of gratitude toward
-Lady Canning for these preparations,
-in which loving care and the most
-exquisite taste were apparent.  Minute
-attention had been paid to detail—no
-possible contrivance for her comfort
-overlooked.  The maid told her that
-Lady Canning, herself, had arranged
-the flowers in the boudoir and upon
-the dressing-table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I must have acted like a fool at
-first," thought Indiana, fastening a
-pink rose, from one of the vases, in the
-breast of her travelling-dress, before
-going down.  "When she said
-something about being a mother to
-me—that set me off.  Poor ma!  I hope she
-isn't fretting.  I can't forget dad yet, as
-he looked when he wished me
-good-bye."  Stillwater had not allowed his
-wife to go down to the steamer—he
-thought she had suffered enough.
-Mrs. Bunker remained with her
-daughter.  When Indiana waved her
-handkerchief as the steamer left the dock,
-he thought of the day when she was
-laid in his arms.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She is very young, Thurston,"
-remarked Lady Canning, after Indiana
-had left the library, "a mere child."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A mere child," echoed Thurston,
-with a very tender intonation.  "You
-are right, mother."  He sat down close
-beside her, taking her hand in his.
-"Yet I was instantly attracted to her.
-You, too, will soon feel the charm that
-she exercises, all unconsciously.  I
-have no words to tell you how I love
-her."  His face grew very serious.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That is quite enough to recommend
-her.  She must certainly have
-exceptional qualities.  A very fortunate
-girl to have inspired such a love in
-you—I daresay she fully realizes that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston smiled involuntarily.  Indiana
-took his devotion as a matter of
-course.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She has a winning smile," said
-Lady Canning.  "I could see she was
-quite effected by the warmth of my
-reception—I no doubt remind her of
-her own mother.  She is very young to
-marry and leave home.  But perhaps
-after all her youth is in her favor.  She
-is such a child it will be easy to mould
-her—don't you think so, Thurston?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Er—yes, of course, mother,"
-answered Thurston, pulling his mustache
-in some perplexity.  He foresaw an
-endless vista of trouble in case of any
-perceptible effort to mould Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We must not expect too much of the
-child," continued Lady Canning.  "Be
-sure you do not make such a mistake
-in the beginning, Thurston.  Coming
-from a place where there is no idea of
-caste, she will naturally make many
-mistakes.  It will take time before she
-can fit into her position as she should.
-You see, Thurston, I am ready to make
-every allowance for your wife."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He bent down and kissed her frail
-white hands.  There was a large
-measure of reverence in his love for her.
-"I have given Indiana my Greuze,
-Thurston."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your Greuze, of which you've
-always been so fond?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes.  I believe in the influence of
-fine arts upon the young.  Your wife's
-mind is now budding out, drinking
-every new impression as eagerly as a
-flower drinks the dew.  It is for us to
-see that those impressions are of the
-highest nature."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana entered, very bright and
-smiling.  She went immediately up to
-Lady Canning and kissed her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know how to thank you for
-all the trouble you have taken, Lady
-Canning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning smiled in a gratified
-manner.  "I am amply repaid, if you
-are pleased, my dear child."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings then brought in the tea.
-He looked so aged, Indiana felt like
-jumping up and taking the tray from
-him, at the same time pushing him
-gently into an arm-chair.  He was a
-little, thin old man with sharp features
-and blue eyes, his snow-white hair
-plastered smoothly on each side of his
-head.  He had been in the family since
-a boy, and, as is generally so in such
-cases, his individuality, his interests,
-or, properly speaking, his entire life,
-had become absorbed in those whom
-he had served.  His position now was
-purely nominal, consisting principally
-of light duties, which kept him in near
-proximity to the family.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning, talking in her low,
-distinct tones, dispensed the tea from
-a very old massive tea-service.
-Indiana noticed that she never raised her
-voice, and she dropped her own insensibly.
-She was, wisely, not too profuse
-in her praises of her apartments, quick
-to see that Lady Canning was not of a
-nature to appreciate much demonstration.
-But she continued to show her
-gratitude delicately by an opportune
-remark now and then.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not heard much from your
-Uncle Nelson," remarked Lady Canning.
-"Oh, don't worry about him," laughed
-Indiana.  "He's enjoying himself
-immensely—isn't he, Thurston?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, my darling.  He has really quite
-assimilated himself with the American
-life, mother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed!  You surprise me.  One
-would have thought at his age, that
-that would have been very difficult—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, not at all," interrupted Indiana.
-"You see, my grandmother has taken
-him in charge.  They go out together,
-everywhere."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your grandmother," repeated Lady
-Canning, raising her eyebrows.  "And
-she is able to go out—everywhere?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana gave vent to a burst of
-merriment, then checked herself, suddenly.
-Her laughter had sounded very loud in
-those quiet surroundings.  "Grandma
-Chazy enjoys life more than any of us.
-She's full of health and spirits."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Remarkable, is it not, Thurston?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Women don't grow old in the States, mother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They take all they can, out of life,
-to the last gasp," explained Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should not like to censure women
-of another environment to my own,"
-said Lady Canning.  "But at a certain
-age, I think it better fitting to prepare
-oneself for the next life, than to still
-seek enjoyment from this.  How does
-it appear to you, my dear child?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana hesitated, then met Thurston's
-eyes fixed anxiously upon her.  "As
-you say, Lady Canning, I think it would
-be better fitting," she answered, seriously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad you agree with me," said
-Lady Canning, well pleased.  "From
-this one example, Thurston, I am
-inclined to think that my ideas and
-Indiana's run very much in the same
-groove."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So it seems," he answered, stroking
-her hand, and watchful of Indiana,
-whose face, however, maintained its
-serious expression.  From this
-conversation, Lady Canning was artfully led
-by her daughter-in-law into delivering
-a homily on the seriousness of life, and
-the necessity of control, where the
-pleasure-loving instincts of the young
-were concerned.  Indiana took every
-opportunity of agreeing with her, sitting
-up stiffly, like a flaxen-haired doll, in the
-high backed chair, nodding at intervals,
-and with an expression of grave
-self-importance, that contrasted oddly with
-her rosebud prettiness.  Meeting
-Thurston's eyes, which were fixed upon her in
-open surprise, she frowned reprovingly,
-and drew herself up a little more stiffly.
-"This is a very happy moment for me,"
-said Lady Canning, with a gentle sigh,
-"to have you with me again, Thurston—with
-your wife—I can hardly realize
-it yet.  I think Indiana and I are going
-to be very congenial, Thurston.  Come
-here, and sit down by me, my dear child."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana obeyed, and Lady Canning
-took her hand and patted it gently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I have a son and a daughter.
-I hope you will be happy in your new
-home, my dear."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, Lady Canning," said
-Indiana, "I intend to be happy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's right.  Now, though we
-have much to say, I think it advisable
-to reserve it for this evening.  It is best
-that I should rest until dinner."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope this has not been too much
-excitement for you, mother," said
-Thurston, solicitously, giving her his arm.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Pleasant excitement will not harm
-me, but I must be careful.  I will see
-you at dinner, Indiana."  She kissed her
-on the forehead.  Thurston led her to
-the door, Indiana accompanying them.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I did not know you were such an
-artist in dissimulation, Indiana," said
-Thurston, taking her head in his hands
-and gazing into her mischievous eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"To what are you referring, may I
-ask?" she inquired, in a dignified tone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, the tactics you have begun
-with my mother.  She thinks you are a
-perfect paragon."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And, am I not?" drawing herself up.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," answered Thurston, laughing
-and kissing her hands.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana found dinner a slow and
-tedious ceremony.  It was noiselessly
-served, without the clatter of a dish or
-the sound of a footfall.  At intervals,
-Jennings' old face peered into hers,
-consulting her wishes in a whisper.
-Their places were set very far apart at
-the large, round table, handsomely
-equipped with heavy silver and crystal,
-as though for a formal banquet, and
-decorated with white roses and maidenhair
-fern, in honor of the bride.  She
-had selected from her trousseau a
-French gown of white satin, showing
-her childish neck.  The maid had
-dressed her yellow hair in puffs in the
-correct English style.  She was very
-quiet during dinner.  Her head still
-felt a little unsteady from the steamer,
-and when Thurston or Lady Canning
-spoke, their voices sounded very far away.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Her impressions that first night in
-her new home were most indistinct.
-She had a floating conception during
-dinner of old mahogany, silver, and
-armor.  Later, in the library, as she
-listened to Thurston entertaining his
-mother with details of his American
-trip, she was the victim of a feeling
-of unreality, inspired by surroundings
-altogether new and so entirely old.
-The candle-light seemed to point, with
-long, mysterious fingers, to the books
-which lined the walls, indicating dark
-and magic secrets locked between their
-ancient covers, and to waver upon the
-faded figures in the Gobelin tapestries
-until they appeared to move, endowed
-with life.  Lady Canning, leaning back
-near the fire, with her fine, pinched
-features, her white, fragile hands
-resting motionless upon the arms of her
-chair, seemed like a figure moulded in wax.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When his mother retired, Thurston
-took Indiana through the house.
-Jennings solemnly preceded them,
-lighting up the rooms.  Standing in the
-background, he nodded his head from
-time to time in corroboration, as
-Thurston explained the family portraits and
-related the histories of various heirlooms.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As the first months in England
-slowly passed, Indiana's single life
-seemed like a dream to her.  Her
-marriage proved the changing of every
-condition, as she had wished.  And
-she preferred to think she had acted
-for the best.  One fact gave her a great
-and unselfish pleasure.  She had won
-Lady Canning's love, completely, by
-pursuing the artful policy with which
-she had started, based on a very shrewd
-idea of the elder woman's character.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston missed her old spontaneity,
-and watched her closely, unknown to
-her.  His loving solicitude, which
-often tried to discover delicately if she
-missed her old life, or if there was
-anything lacking in the new which he
-could supply, only made her impatient.
-She professed to be perfectly happy,
-yet he sometimes felt as though he had
-caged a bird, who refused to sing.
-Still the bird had flown willingly into
-his hand.  His tender worship had
-won nothing from her, so far, but an
-amiable tolerance.  They were in the
-position of queen and vassal.  His
-pride suffered bitterly at times.  His
-hope that she would learn to love him
-had grown into a great and secret
-longing.  He felt it to be the only solution
-of them both.  His very existence was
-now based on this consummation.
-The best of life is given to building a
-beautiful fabric of spider's webs,
-colored with the passing tints of the
-rainbow—because there is an everlasting
-charm in that which fades before the
-eyes, and can be demolished by a touch.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="transplantation"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Transplantation.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Lord Stafford arrived in
-England some months later.
-He drove up to the house one Sunday
-morning an hour earlier than he was
-expected.  Lady Canning and Indiana
-had not yet come home from church.
-After welcoming him, with tears of joy,
-Jennings tottered upstairs to tell
-Thurston.  Lord Stafford went into the
-library and, with a sense of happiness
-to be again in his old surroundings,
-toasted himself once more before an
-English fire.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Uncle Nelson!" exclaimed Thurston,
-rushing into the room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston, my boy!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Relinquishing his hand, Lord Stafford
-subjected his nephew to a critical
-survey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said Thurston, laughing,
-"is the examination satisfactory?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You've changed—for the better,"
-answered his uncle with a puzzled
-expression.  "More vivacity.  In fact,
-you've grown younger."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll explain.  I was an old bachelor.
-Now, I am a young married man."  They
-both laughed heartily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So the international combination has
-panned out, as we say in the States?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Worked like a charm from the
-start," said Thurston.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Remarkable.  And with your mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother has completely succumbed
-to Indiana, and spoils her shockingly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm very glad of that, I'm sure.
-I've been homesick ever since I saw
-you off with your bride, but I was
-really afraid to come home until the
-new wife had fitted into the new
-conditions."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't know my Indiana.
-Wait until you see how well she fits
-into the new conditions."  They heard
-the sound of carriage-wheels.
-Thurston hurried to the window, his face
-lighting up.  "Here they are—here's
-my wife!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford met them at the door
-of the library.  "My dear sister!"
-folding her in his arms.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nelson, I'm very glad to have you
-at home, you wanderer!  You look
-marvellously well, and tanned by the
-sun.  Have you seen our dear little
-daughter?  Where are you, Indiana?"  Thurston
-had drawn her to the fire and
-was taking off her gloves.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Here, dear Lady Canning," said
-Indiana demurely, with a strong effort
-at an English accent.  "How do you
-do, Uncle Nelson?"  She offered her
-cheek, which he kissed, then surveyed
-her with great curiosity.  She looked
-the personification of English
-maidenhood, dressed in a plain, gray gown,
-without any pretension to style of cut.
-A little bonnet, tied under her chin,
-rested on her yellow puffs.  She stood
-there, very demure and quiet, still
-holding her prayer-book.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And how do you find our sweet
-child looking, Nelson?" inquired Lady
-Canning, sinking into an arm-chair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"By George, I should say I found
-her very much changed!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"For the better, dear Uncle
-Nelson?" said Indiana, sweetly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"When we transplant a flower,"
-remarked Lady Canning, "we must
-watch it very carefully for a time, lest
-it wither in the process.  Indiana is a
-most flexible little person.  She
-appears to have taken root in our soil so
-easily.  She had not been here a week
-when she was perfectly at home."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks to your good advice, Lady
-Canning.  You have taken so much
-trouble with me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"To be frank, Nelson, Indiana was
-a most agreeable surprise.  When
-Thurston wrote me that he had
-selected a wife in the wilds of America, I
-felt ill with fright.  I couldn't find out
-anything about the place, and the name
-suggested horrible visions of
-half-breeds and wild girls who climb trees
-and ride horses bareback."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"America is a very large country,
-dear Lady Canning," said Indiana.
-"There are tree-climbers and bareback
-riders in the uncivilized parts, I
-believe."  Thurston turned away to
-conceal a laugh.  "In fact, I myself must
-have appeared—er—strange to you at
-first, did I not, dear Lady Canning?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no!  Only a little rasping quality
-in the voice, which has since greatly
-modified."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That is our climate, dear Lady
-Canning.  The sharp winds have a
-tendency to pitch our voices in a high key."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And your gowns, dear, were a little
-too modern—too expensive for a young
-wife.  You don't mind my saying it,
-Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana gave her an angelic smile.
-"I am so grateful to you.  Lady Canning
-has given me the real English taste
-in the selection of a gown," parading
-before Lord Stafford, who, inserting
-his monocle, inspected her seriously.
-"Dowdy, isn't it?" she whispered,
-as Lady Canning bent over the fire,
-warming her hands.  "I adore Irish
-poplins, Scotch plaids, English
-cheviots—and seed-cake.  My first bonnet!
-Isn't it a love?"  She tossed her head
-waggishly in Lord Stafford's face, so
-that a bunch of Prince-of-Wales
-feathers tickled his nose.  "So
-unbecoming!" she added in his ear.  Lady
-Canning turned, with an expression of
-smiling satisfaction.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"In my time, dear, as soon as a girl
-married, she wore a bonnet with strings.
-That's always the sign of a matron in
-England.  You know there must be
-something to distinguish the married
-from the single woman."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, certainly, I approve of it,"
-said Indiana.  "Then there can be no
-fear of any mistakes being made by
-strangers."  She heaved a deep sigh
-of conscious virtue.  Lord Stafford
-dropped his monocle and fell into a
-chair, laughing unrestrainedly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You've caught on, Indiana!  Ha,
-ha, ha, ha!  As they say in the
-States—you've mashed them cold all 'round!
-Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear Nelson," said Lady Canning,
-severely, "what do you mean by such
-expressions?  They appear to me very
-vulgar.  Is it really American, Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all, dear Lady Canning,"
-said Indiana, reassuringly.  "Those
-expressions you have just heard," she
-shivered slightly, "are mere
-barbarisms.  They are used only by the
-natives of the uncultivated wastes."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The natives.  A sort of dialect, I
-suppose, my darling.  Go and lay off
-your bonnet and smooth your hair."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana pouted rebelliously at
-Thurston.  "May I go?"  Sweetly, "Thank
-you very much."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She kissed Lady Canning and walked
-demurely to the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Remarkable!" murmured Lord Stafford.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The child has perfect manners,"
-commented Lady Canning, with a sigh
-of content, as Thurston followed
-Indiana from the room.  "One would
-think she had been born and bred in
-England, thanks to my policy, from the
-very beginning.  I don't allow her to
-call me mother—the child's too young.
-It's a better moral effect—and, with a
-little tender firmness, combined with
-just a spark of dignity that awes, I have
-accomplished wonders.  I shudder to
-think what would have been the results
-if I had not been here.  Thurston
-spoils her shockingly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, does he?  Very wrong of him,
-very unwise, I'm sure."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, is it not?  But it's turned
-out very gratifyingly.  You know how
-averse I've always been to Thurston
-marrying a modern woman—one of
-those editing magazines, forming clubs
-and racing women?"  She shuddered.
-"When Thurston broke it to me, I
-was very doubtful of the results—very.
-But his heart carried him away.  I don't
-wonder at it.  She's so bright, so clever,
-so amusing, so lovable.  She must have
-come from very fine stock."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very," answered Lord Stafford,
-seriously.  "You should see Grandma
-Chazy Bunker.  She 'beats the band'—as
-they say in the States."  He
-regarded the ceiling with an expression
-of delightful reminiscence, which
-broadened gradually into a laugh.  He
-rose suddenly and approached his sister.
-"Helena, I am going to let you into
-a little secret."  He looked around
-mysteriously, then added, in a loud
-whisper, "Indiana's people are in
-London.  They came over with me from
-America."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Her father, mother, and grandmother,
-and, as they say in the States"—Lady
-Canning braced herself from
-the shock which inevitably followed
-this remark—"'they're going to make
-Indiana's hair curl!'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Speak English, if you please."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They're going to give her a surprise party."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning looked at him
-incredulously.  "Do you mean to say
-they're going to drop down on that
-poor child without sending her word?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You can bet your sweet life on it!
-Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"  He sank into an
-arm-chair, overcome with mirth.  The
-entire affair was a huge joke to him,
-irrespective of the fact that his sister
-failed to perceive the humor of his
-communication.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What an undignified proceeding!"
-said Lady Canning, in shocked tones.
-"Her grandmother, too!"  Lord Stafford
-went off into another paroxysm of
-mirth.  "Why, the highest respect is
-due to their age in the way of preparation."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"In America there's nothing gives
-so much pleasure as springing things
-on a person.  The surprise party is a
-national institution."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning rose to her feet,
-perceptibly agitated.  "My dear brother,
-think of the shock to Indiana.  It
-might be serious."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"'She won't turn a hair'—as we say
-in the States.  She's a thoroughbred!
-Ha, ha, ha, ha!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm very glad you told me.  I must
-go and make some kind of a toilette
-to receive them, and the housekeeper
-must be apprised."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear sister, 'don't put yourself
-out'—as we say in the States."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor Indiana!  Most unheard-of
-proceedings!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>During dinner Indiana plied Lord
-Stafford with questions about her
-family, all of which he answered seriously,
-with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.
-Lady Canning regarded her
-unconscious face with growing sympathy.
-She went to her rooms immediately
-after dinner.  "I shall not make my
-appearance," she thought, "until all
-the excitement is over.  I am upset
-enough as it is.  I can scarcely look at
-that poor child—I feel so badly for her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana, entering the library
-demurely, and seeing that Thurston and
-Lord Stafford were alone, rushed
-toward them with a shrill little cry.  She
-laughed as they both started to their feet.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm only giving vent to my
-repressed exuberance.  I can be natural
-with Uncle Nelson, can't I, Thurston?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not be natural with my
-mother?  It pains me to see you
-playing a part with her.  She's not such a
-dreadful person."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana smiled comically at Lord
-Stafford, sinking down upon the
-hearth-rug at his feet.  "The
-ingratitude of men!  He asked me to make
-his mother love him, and to succeed it
-was necessary to adapt myself to her
-ways.  If I had argued with her, he
-would have disagreed so radically it
-would have been impossible to live
-under the same roof.  I know that it is a
-necessity at present, so I agree with her
-in everything.  Consequently, I'm the
-best, the most lovable girl in the world.
-All the same, I own her, body and
-soul—that's my method of subjugation.
-Of course, he's not satisfied.  Nothing
-I do pleases him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Uncle Nelson, I'm frightfully
-good," continued Indiana, ignoring
-Thurston, whose eyes were fastened
-upon her in mute and tender reproach.
-"I've never been so good in my life"—she
-clasped her hands, raising her
-eyes to the ceiling—"I feel like an
-angel—so sweet, so obedient, so
-ordinary.  Thurston doesn't appreciate it.
-He doesn't love me as much as he did
-before we were married."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana!" exclaimed Thurston,
-seriously, "how can you say that?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought he was a gentleman of
-leisure, and he works harder than a
-farm hand.  He sits up half the night,
-reading and studying.  If I had known
-he was such a great scholar I wouldn't
-have married him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, do you mean that?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No,"—serious face—"I was only
-joking.  Uncle Nelson, do you think
-he will ever be a great man?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford glanced amusedly at
-Thurston.  "I hope so."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, as great as Thomas Carlyle?
-Don't say yes, because I'll run away.
-You know what Jane Carlyle said about
-the wives of men of genius?  They're
-more miserable even—than—than
-doctors' wives.  Thurston has symptoms.
-He sits up all night and writes like
-Carlyle.  Between times the old crank
-used to go out in the back yard, and sit
-on the fence and smoke a pipe—in his
-night-shirt.  That's the next thing I'll
-get."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The two men laughed heartily.  "You
-little witch," exclaimed Thurston,
-catching her up in his arms and kissing
-her, "you are simply irresistible!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, I'll give you an imitation of
-a chipmunk," cried Indiana, in high
-spirits, jumping up on a lounge, and
-imitating to perfection a chipmunk
-sitting on its haunches and nibbling a
-nut.  Lord Stafford applauded, while
-Thurston watched the door, his mind
-divided between admiration for his
-little wife's clever imitation, and fear
-that his mother might enter during the
-performance.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you remember the night we all
-went on a moonlight picnic to the
-Falls—and Glen was so jealous—poor
-Glen!—and we sang 'On the Banks of the
-Wabash'?—</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>'Oh, the moonlight's fair to-night along the Wabash,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>From the field there comes the breath of new-mown hay,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>Through the sycamores the candle-lights are gleaming,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>On the banks of the Wabash, far away.'"</span></div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Her voice quivered and she sank
-upon the ground, sobbing like a child,
-with her head against the table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston made one quick step
-toward her and gathered her up in his
-arms.  "My darling, don't cry!  You
-break my heart."  He pressed her to
-his breast, smoothing her hair
-mechanically.  A hopeless expression had
-settled in his eyes.  Lord Stafford
-looked at them miserably, then
-considered the best thing to do, under the
-circumstances, was to make his escape
-in the quietest manner possible.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston sank into a chair, holding
-his wife closely to his heart.  "I know
-you're homesick—unhappy," he
-whispered.  "I feel it, and I'm helpless
-against it.  What can I do?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing of the kind," she said,
-lifting her head suddenly.  "There—I
-frightened Uncle Nelson away!"  She
-slipped from his arms to the floor.
-"I'm not homesick.  I mean—not all
-the time."  She gave a piteous little
-gulp.  "That song upset me, and I
-had a terrible longing just to get a
-look at dad and mother and Grandma
-Chazy, and then pack them all home
-again."  Thurston heaved a sigh from
-his heart.  "I wish you wouldn't take
-me so seriously, Thurston," she
-continued, in an aggrieved voice.  "Don't
-watch every quiver of my eyes, and
-think it's a tragedy.  Discipline's a
-very good thing for me—I like it.  But
-I wish you wouldn't believe every word
-I say.  It's aggravating enough when
-your mother does it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll try not to.  But I want to
-follow your thoughts—I want to be one
-with my wife."  He drew her to him,
-gazing with yearning tenderness into
-her eyes.  "It's difficult to—to adjust
-my slow emotions to your rapidly
-changing ones.  You force my
-sympathy—and repel it—in a breath.
-Your moods change with the minutes.
-But all that wouldn't matter if I were
-sure you were learning to love me—to
-give only a little, in return for my deep
-affection.  That would set my heart at
-rest and smooth away all difficulties."  He
-looked beseechingly into her eyes.
-But she silently evaded his glance.
-Her face had grown suddenly very
-serious.  "Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I was thinking—perhaps it was
-wrong to marry you—but I did not
-love anybody else—and I will try."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, if you knew how your
-words stab me.  You have a terrible
-capacity for torturing."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now you're sorry you married me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sorry!" he repeated, intensely.
-"I'd give up my life sooner than
-you—I try to control my love, but I can't
-keep it always smothered.  I don't
-want to frighten you, child—for you
-are only a child yet—but I shall keep
-my word when I said I will make you
-love me."  He pressed her passionately
-in his arms.  "Indiana!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston!" she murmured, for the
-moment yielding to his embrace.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A discreet cough sounded in the
-room.  Thurston released his wife
-instantly.  Jennings came toward them,
-holding a salver out with a hand which
-shook more than usual.  There was
-also a certain rigidity in his face, from
-the effort to conceal emotion of some
-kind.  Thurston took the card from
-the salver, with a vague impression that
-there was something strange in
-Jennings' behavior.  Then his own
-expression changed into incredulous
-surprise.  He read, with a rising inflection
-of the voice which ended in a shout:</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. and Mrs. Stillwater—Mrs. Chazy
-Bunker, Indiana, U.S.A."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="i-shall-keep-my-promise"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"I Shall Keep My Promise."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Indiana, with a scream of joy,
-flung herself into her father's
-arms.  He had followed Jennings
-closely.  Also Mrs. Stillwater and
-Mrs. Bunker.  The latter embraced
-Thurston exuberantly, then Mrs. Stillwater
-threw her arms about his neck, and
-immediately tore herself away from him,
-crying.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That'll do, father.  Let me have
-one kiss—oh!"  She was almost
-hysterical with excitement.  "That'll do,
-father."  He finally gave Indiana over
-to her mother, who pressed her to her
-breast, with inarticulate expressions of
-love.  Stillwater then shook hands with
-Thurston, who had met the onslaught
-calm and smiling, though inwardly
-rejoiced for his wife's sake.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come," said Mrs. Bunker, with a
-beaming face, "pass her round."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You dear old things," cried
-Indiana, "this is what I call a surprise!
-Now sit down, all of you."  She pulled
-her father and mother down on the
-lounge, sitting between them.
-Mrs. Stillwater gazed at her, speechless with
-happiness.  Stillwater smoothed her
-hair tenderly, pressing her head against
-his breast.  "Tell me all the news.
-How's everybody at home?  Anybody
-engaged—or married?  How did you
-happen to come?  What put it in your
-heads?  How long are you going to
-stay?  How—?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good gracious!" exclaimed
-Mrs. Bunker, "one at a time, Indy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston stood aside, watching Indiana's
-radiant face, with an unselfish joy
-and an impulse of gratitude to the
-kindly chance which had brought her
-loved ones at the very moment when
-they were so urgently needed.  Then
-he withdrew quietly, thinking she
-would like to be alone with them.  He
-also wished to acquaint his mother with
-the surprise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've come over only for one
-thing," said Mrs. Stillwater.  "That's
-to see you, Indiana.  After you left,
-and the excitement was over, I couldn't
-settle down again.  My body was there,
-but my heart and soul were following
-you over the water.  I don't know how
-we ever let you go," her eyes filled,
-"and I couldn't stand it any longer.  I
-had to come over to see for myself if
-you were happy."  She looked
-yearningly into Indiana's face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear mother," said Indiana,
-tenderly, pressing her cheek to hers,
-"my dear, kind, loving mother!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mary," said Stillwater, severely.
-"It's done now, and we must make the
-best of it."  The spectacle of his wife
-and child clasped in each other's arms,
-affected him to an intense degree.
-During the term of Indiana's
-engagement and marriage, he had found it
-necessary to be stern with his gentle
-wife—without stringent measures—from
-pure fear that she would collapse
-utterly.  His severity served also as a
-moral brace, when he himself was concerned.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings entered in his usual noiseless
-fashion.  "Would yer little leddyship
-like tea served?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, if you please, Jennings,"
-answered Indiana, assuming her English
-accent.  "Father, Jennings has been a
-butler in our family all his life."  Every
-eye was centred upon Jennings, who
-bowed with a most self-congratulatory
-expression, and walked proudly from
-the room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Em—em—lack of ambition," said
-Stillwater, "that's the trouble with this
-country.  I could see it before I was
-two hours landed.  The Britishers are
-too well-satisfied with themselves.  Life's
-too easy.  They haven't had to grow
-up with a new town—they ought to have
-been in my shoes, eh, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker walked about, surveying
-the room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Father—mother—grandmother!"
-exclaimed Indiana, taking the centre of
-the room.  "I have married into a great
-family.  None of your new nobility.
-We are one of the few unadulterated
-families in England, which has never
-married out of its sphere—except in my
-case.  And I shall assimilate, not
-diverge.  No one speaks of progression
-here.  All are sublimely content.  New
-ideas are shunned, as modern depravity,
-by her ladyship.  Look about you, at
-these old family relics—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I expect to see a ghost every
-moment," interrupted Mrs. Bunker,
-affecting to shiver.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's like a nasty old vault," whispered
-Mrs. Stillwater, confidentially, to her
-husband.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's nothing better than us,"
-remarked Indiana, with a toss of her
-head.  "Nothing, from an ancestral
-point of view."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, drop that English accent,"
-said Mrs. Bunker, sharply, "it's too
-affected."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush!" answered Indiana, looking
-toward the door.  Thurston entered,
-with Lady Canning on his arm.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana approached her with a very
-marked change of manner, speaking in
-soft, low English tones.  "My dear
-Lady Canning, I have had such a
-delightful surprise.  This is my father and
-mother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Mrs. Stillwater, I am really
-delighted.  And Mr. Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And this is my grandmother," continued
-Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your grandmother!" exclaimed
-Lady Canning, staring in surprise at
-the vivacious and essentially modern
-woman before her.  Mrs. Bunker, on
-this occasion, wore a very becoming,
-extremely youthful hat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's difficult to realize, isn't it?"
-remarked Mrs. Bunker, laughing and
-flattered at Lady Canning's
-astonishment.  "We consider it criminal in
-the States for a woman not to look at
-least ten years younger than she really
-is.  I've always been regarded as a
-remarkable woman for my age."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The costume is deceiving,"
-answered Lady Canning, regarding
-Mrs. Bunker's fashionable attire with
-disapproving eyes.  "At first glance I
-thought you were a young woman,
-Mrs.—er—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Bunker," smiling graciously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker.  However, on close
-inspection, I see you are not."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Having thus summarily thrown cold
-water on Mrs. Bunker's enthusiasm,
-Lady Canning proceeded on Thurston's
-arm to her usual chair by the fire,
-Lord Stafford, entering shortly after,
-exchanged laughing greetings with his
-fellow-travellers.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lady Canning, I wouldn't harbor
-any old bachelors," remarked Mrs. Bunker,
-her irrepressible spirits rising
-to the surface again.  "If he were my
-brother, I'd just turn him out, and he
-would be obliged to marry for a shelter."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker," said Lord Stafford,
-"I once heard a Yankee farmer say,
-'An old hoss that's been jogging along
-a good many years alone, is always
-good to jog along a few years more,
-but if you yoke him with another hoss,
-he's winded at once, and goes to the
-wall.'  Ha, ha, ha, ha!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana, who was sitting at the
-tea-table, strained her eyes and ears, trying
-to hear everything that was said.  At
-one time she became so absorbed,
-making anxious and involuntary comparisons
-between her relatives and Thurston's,
-that she forgot to pour out the
-tea, while Jennings stood anxiously
-watching her, waiting for the cups.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And how do you find your daughter
-looking, Mrs. Stillwater?" inquired
-Lady Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Stillwater, sitting near the elder
-lady by the fire, shook her head
-dolefully.  "Her color's not as high as it
-used to be.  I suppose it's living in
-these dark, musty rooms.  And she's
-used to flying about in the open air."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother!" exclaimed Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, Indiana?" answered
-Mrs. Stillwater, starting.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana gave her a warning glance.
-"You don't take sugar, do you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, dear," answered Mrs. Stillwater,
-quite oblivious to the glance,
-"Don't wait on me.  Shall I pour the tea?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, dear Mrs. Stillwater,"
-said Lady Canning.  "Indiana always
-does her duty as mistress of the house.
-No doubt you miss her very much.  I
-can understand that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll tell you frankly, I was very
-much against it, she's the only one we
-have.  I begged her not to do it.  I
-even warned Thurston against her.
-One must give in to Indiana in order to
-get along with her, and, living with a
-mother-in-law, I was afraid of it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning laughed quietly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother!" exclaimed Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, dear," answered Mrs. Stillwater.
-She went over to Indiana and
-bent over her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop that," whispered Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Stillwater looked at her with a
-piteous expression, then sank down
-into a chair near the tea-table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This cup is for Lady Canning.
-No, Jennings, I'll take it to her myself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Stillwater watched her jealously
-as she waited on Lady Canning, and
-drank her tea with a vague feeling of
-disappointment in her reunion with
-Indiana.  Mr. Stillwater inspected, with
-interest, various objects in the room,
-walking about with Thurston, their
-cups in their hands.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's a solidity about all this,
-which speaks for itself," said
-Mr. Stillwater.  "It's no use talking, a man
-can't buy it."  Thurston called his
-attention to a tapestry.  "Yes, I
-know—Gobelin—very fine.  I admire it right
-here, because it belongs here.  But
-when our millionaires import other
-people's old furniture, even that of
-princes and cardinals, and put it in
-their brand-new American homes—it
-seems to me snobbery.  The only
-value of an antique is when it belongs
-to a nation."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I agree with you, Mr. Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>After some further conversation,
-Lady Canning said, gently, to Indiana,
-"My darling, will you excuse me now?
-I know you have much to say to your
-people."  She shook hands graciously
-with them all.  "Now, when will you
-come and dine with us?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, we'll run in any old time," said
-Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We won't wait for invitations,"
-added Mr. Stillwater.  "We'll run over
-to breakfast or supper, just as the spirit
-moves us.  We'll take possession while
-we're here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You will always be very welcome
-whenever you care to come," answered
-Lady Canning.  "But we are not used
-to being taken unawares."  She bowed
-with a set smile, as she left the room
-leaning on her brother's arm.  But her
-presence was still felt by a perceptible
-chill in the atmosphere.  Thurston,
-however, soon dispelled the restraint.
-He took them through the house, entertaining
-them with histories of different
-family relics, to which they listened
-with interest.  Then they adjourned to
-his own particular den, where all the
-trophies of his travels were collected.
-Finally Indiana carried them off to
-her apartments, leaving Thurston in
-his den.  When they were all comfortably
-installed in the boudoir, Indiana,
-leaning on her mother's breast, looked
-thoughtfully up in her face and then at
-the others.  She could scarcely realize
-that they were substantial creations.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana Stillwater," said Mrs. Bunker,
-"the way you crawl to that woman
-is very un-American."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"In England it's the custom for people
-to pay great respect to their elders."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a nice slap in the face for
-us," remarked Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Grandma Chazy, you don't want
-the deference due to age," answered
-Indiana, propitiatingly.  "You won't
-for many years, I hope.  Think of
-treating ma and pa like that.  They
-wouldn't like it a bit."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Mrs. Stillwater, "we're
-satisfied as long as you love us.  But
-don't let anyone else take our place."  She
-pressed her lips to Indiana's soft
-hair, crying silently.  Indiana
-tightened her arms about her mother's
-waist, unaware of the tears that were
-falling on her yellow puffs.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, then," said Mrs. Bunker,
-"just put on your things and come and
-have supper with us at the hotel.  All
-the Americans in town will be there,
-beside the English celebrities.  Come
-along.  I'll show you the whole push."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd love to go."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll have a good time, if it is
-Sunday night.  Well, what are you sitting
-there for?  Get your things on."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I must ask my husband," said Indiana,
-slowly, the eager sparkle suddenly
-dying in her eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker sank down in the chair,
-from which she had sprung in her
-enthusiasm.  "Indiana Stillwater, I never
-thought you would turn out such a
-spiritless kind of a woman.  Of course
-it's none of my business, but if you
-start in this way, you'll lose your entire
-individuality."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not so, Grandma Chazy.  I do
-just as I like.  I allow no one to
-compel me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're quite right to ask your husband,
-and, if it's against his religious
-views, you stay home and read the
-Bible to his mother."  Mrs. Bunker
-went to the mirror, arranging her hat,
-as if the question had been settled.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not so!" exclaimed Indiana,
-rising and stamping her foot.  "You
-don't understand the conditions of life
-over here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's the thing in London now, to
-dine out on Sunday nights.  You can't
-tell me, Indiana Stillwater."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It may be the thing, but we don't
-do it.  Must I tell you again I have
-married into a very conservative family?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We're not good enough for you,
-now," replied Mrs. Bunker, sarcastically.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll always love my own people, but
-I won't be blind to their faults.  We
-lack culture and repose."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You may be right, Indy," said
-Mr. Stillwater, hitherto a silent
-listener.  "But if you keep cultivating a
-field of wheat right along, you'll cultivate
-it till it doesn't produce anything.
-They're running to seed fast here—and
-we're still bearing strong.  Repose!
-Let them have it.  Thank heaven, we
-youngsters are always on our feet.
-Now, mother!"  Mrs. Stillwater was
-crying.  At the sight of her tears
-Indiana capitulated.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll come, mother," she said,
-despairingly, throwing herself on her
-knees beside her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Darling!" cried Mrs. Stillwater.
-"Don't you think we ought to ask
-Thurston?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll ask him, of course," said Indiana,
-"but I'm sure he won't come."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll manage without him," said
-Mrs. Bunker.  "On second thoughts,
-I think we'll send for you, Indiana."  She
-looked significantly at the others.
-"We'll send for her at eight o'clock."  They
-nodded.  "That'll just give you
-time to dress.  We've another surprise
-in store for you."  They all laughed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, don't tell me.  It's so nice to
-look forward to something one don't
-expect."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Take off that dowdy thing," directed
-Mrs. Bunker.  "Go back to your
-trousseau."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We turned you out better than
-that," commented Stillwater, looking
-her over.  Indiana pouted like a child,
-teased.  Thurston emerged from his
-den as they descended the stairs.  Lord
-Stafford also joined them below in the
-library.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston," asked Stillwater, taking
-him aside, "has she broken out
-yet?"  Thurston shook his head, laughing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater took Indiana in his arms.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Goodbye.  God bless you!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker kissed her vehemently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't let you go," whispered
-Mrs. Stillwater.  "If I wasn't sure I'd
-see you to-night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana sank into a chair as they all
-left the room, Thurston and Lord
-Stafford accompanying them to the door.
-Her thoughts were in a whirl.  Her
-pride had been hurt at the idea her
-family should think she was not utterly
-a free agent, and that was one of the
-main reasons why she had consented to
-join them that night.  Then they
-brought her old life back so forcibly.
-If her relatives had suffered in
-comparison with Thurston's, her present
-life now suffered in comparison with
-the old—its freedom, and lack of
-obligation.  She realized now that she
-had been truly queen of her own
-territory.  She heard them all laughing and
-talking below.  Gradually their voices
-died away, the voices of her old life.
-She felt a sense of loneliness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was early spring, when Jennings
-made it a rule to light the candles later.
-Everything in the room had faded into
-the growing dusk.  The old objects so
-easily blended with a waning light.
-Indiana heard Thurston laughing heartily
-with Lord Stafford, as they ascended
-the stairs.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All in the dark, sweetheart!"  He
-touched the electric button of the lamp
-on the table, revealing Indiana, buried
-in one of the big chairs, gazing dismally
-before her.  The smile died on his face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, go on!  Don't mind me!"
-exclaimed Indiana.  "Laugh at them!
-Ridicule them!  Tell me you don't
-want them to darken your doors again.
-I'm ready for anything."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana!" exclaimed Thurston,
-justly hurt at this unreasonable
-outburst.  "How can you?  I wasn't
-laughing in that way.  I find your
-people very witty and amusing.  As for
-separating you from them, I hope we
-shall see as much of them as we
-possibly can.  Grandma Chazy is a new
-creation for us.  We simply revel in
-her.  She'll make a sensation
-wherever she goes.  I shouldn't wonder if
-she would marry well and settle down
-in England.  There now, the storm's
-over."  He smoothed the hair back
-from her forehead with a soothing
-touch.  "Poor little thing, she's had a
-shock.  I hate surprises myself.  Lie
-down for an hour and rest.  Come,"
-lifting her up from the chair, "I'll put
-you on the sofa."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no!" protested Indiana,
-"there's no time.  I—I have promised
-to go out."  He looked at her in
-astonishment.  "The folks wouldn't take 'no'
-for an answer," affecting not to notice
-his surprise, "and naturally, they want
-me with them as much as possible."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Naturally!" said Thurston, coldly.
-If she wished to go out with her family,
-why had she not consulted him first, he
-thought, instead of considering it
-sufficient to merely apprise him of her
-intention.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't ask you to waste your night,"
-she said, carelessly, endeavoring to make
-it apparent that she was quite innocent
-of any departure from the conventional
-order of things.  He looked at her
-again, in astonishment.  Why should
-she assume a night spent with her was
-wasted?  It was an evident fact he was
-not wanted.  "But, you can call for
-me," she wound up, airily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, they've mapped out a programme,"
-she answered, irrelevantly.
-"Grandma Chazy knows what's to be
-seen."  She turned to leave the room,
-as though summarily dismissing the
-subject.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am only your husband, it is true,
-but I think I have a right to know, if
-my wife goes out, where she is going."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana paused half way to the door.
-"I'm going to dine with them at the
-Cecil, where they are stopping."  He
-was silent.  She waited, in some suspense,
-for a remark, her hand on the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry to disappoint you—but I
-cannot permit you to go," he said, at
-length, slowly.  "It's not the place for
-Lady Canning.  It may be all very well
-for strangers—sight-seers—but London
-is our home.  These places are resorts
-for foreigners, professional women,
-men-about-town, and others, who delight to
-bask in the public eye.  I have another
-reason.  I do not wish you to be seen
-in public, until I have formally presented
-you—as my wife."  He approached her
-and removing her hand gently from the
-handle of the door, led her back into
-the room.  She went unwillingly, her
-head drooping.  "Indiana," he put his
-hand under her chin and lifted her face,
-so that her eyes met his.  "I don't wish
-to force you, but to convince you.
-Admit it would be a very foolish and
-inconsistent thing to do."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but that's just why I want to
-do it," she answered, wilfully deaf to
-the note of appeal in his voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You child!  Come now," he forced
-her gently to lie down on the sofa.
-"Quiet that eager little mind of yours,"
-tucking her carefully in a rug.  "Shut
-those restless American eyes and sleep
-for a while.  Dream yourself into good
-humor again."  He closed her eyes,
-patting her cheek tenderly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston, they've got a surprise for
-me," she said, piteously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What, another!" he exclaimed.
-"Your nerves won't stand any more
-surprises to-night.  Now, in one hour,
-I shall come in and awaken my sleeping
-beauty with a kiss."  Indiana made a
-little grimace and shut her eyes tightly.
-He watched her for a moment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Asleep already," bending over her,
-"or sulking—which?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She flung the rug from her,
-suddenly sitting up.  "Thurston, I want
-to go.  Thurston, why can't I go?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Because you yourself have acknowledged
-it would not be right," he answered,
-coldly.  Her small, red lips
-drooped plaintively, she coiled herself
-up on the sofa in a disconsolate
-attitude.  Thurston stood watching her.
-The sad, little face staring at the fire,
-stirred his sympathy.  This was the first
-request he had ever refused.  He felt
-an impulse to press her against his heart
-and beg her not to grieve—to tell her
-that he felt her disappointment far deeper
-than she herself could have any idea of.
-But pride prevented him.  He had
-lately been chary in his demonstrations.
-His nature, which at first had sung a
-pæan over the mere fact that she was
-his, rejoicing in the lavish display of its
-love, gradually conscious of no hint of
-response, only a tacit acceptance, had
-crept back into its cloak of reserve.
-He suffered from the repression,
-becoming at times the victim of a terrible
-discouragement—that sinking of the
-heart, inevitable to the thought that one
-has given one's very best in vain.  He
-realized what a frail structure he had
-builded—that beautiful fairy fabric of
-spider's webs, illuminated with the
-tints of the rainbow.  Standing,
-watching Indiana, Thurston remembered the
-day when she had promised to marry
-him—that gray, soft, still evening in
-autumn.  It had been like a tender
-poem.  He had likened the little path
-between the trees upon which they
-walked, to the dim, narrow aisle of a
-church, leading to the altar.  It had
-led them to the altar, but he had failed
-yet to realize the dream, the infinite
-suggestion beyond.  He felt they were
-still kneeling there.  He and the
-church had done their part.  It needed
-Indiana only to make the bond
-complete.  He suffered in a great measure
-for her sake alone.  Could she respect
-her own womanhood as his wife when
-she failed to love him, he asked
-himself.  She, too, might be suffering,
-without his knowledge.  The little
-figure maintained its disconsolate position.
-It was only a trivial matter, after
-all, but he did not want her to harbor
-the least resentment against him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana," he said, tenderly, placing
-his hand on her head, "do you remember
-the day I asked you to be my wife?
-Do you forget already the condition
-upon which you accepted me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What condition?" asked Indiana,
-innocently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That I should not give in."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" exclaimed Indiana, falling
-back on the sofa.  If he brought up
-that justification, there was no longer
-any ground to argue upon.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have never in my life broken my
-word once given.  This is our first
-difference.  I must keep my promise to
-you.  No matter how much I suffer, I
-will not give in."  He tucked her in
-the rug again, extinguished the lamp,
-and left the room.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="an-escapade"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">An Escapade</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Indiana, lying in the dark, tossed
-restlessly.  Scattered scenes and
-personages of her old life and the new,
-floated through her mind, jumbled in a
-rare confusion.  She counted and
-multiplied to induce sleep.  Finally she
-thought of the formula children repeat
-when they play hide-and-seek—</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>"'Ena, mino, mina, mo,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>Catch a nigger by the toe.</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>If he hollers let him go.</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>Ena, mino, mina, mo.</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>You're it—I'm out!'"</span></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Out of everything," she added,
-with a sob.  "Oh, I can't sleep!"  She
-tossed the pillows about desperately,
-feeling nervous and irritable, angry
-with herself, angry with Thurston and
-her family.  The room was suddenly
-lit from the lamp on the centre-table.
-Indiana's dazzled eyes saw a tall figure
-standing before her.  "Glen!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings retreated with a chuckle of
-delight.  Indiana threw her arms about
-her old playmate's neck, and was on
-the point of kissing him, but drew
-suddenly back at the recollection that he
-had been her lover as well as her comrade.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll bet you forgot, for the moment,
-you were married—now didn't you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana nodded.  Tears were not
-very far from her eyes.  He pressed
-her hands, looking into her face.  He
-felt both pain and joy—pain that she
-was another's, and joy at beholding her
-in the flesh once more, no matter
-under what circumstances.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So you were the surprise," said
-Indiana, a little shyly.  He looked so
-manly, so strikingly tall and handsome,
-as he stood there in his evening
-clothes.  His dark eyes gazed at her in
-an unmistakably tender fashion.  "Just
-as though I were not married at all,"
-thought Indiana, with a sudden uprising
-of wifely virtue.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I was the surprise," answered
-Glen, releasing her hands slowly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I was just trying to sleep, and,
-thinking of the old days when we
-played tag together and—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Glen, eagerly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, never mind," answered Indiana,
-brushing the tears from her eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The old days," repeated Glen,
-staring into the fire.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They seem so far away, and it's
-only a few months, Glen.  So much
-has happened—I suppose that's the reason."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at her intently.  There
-was a wistful expression in her eyes.
-She was paler and thinner, more
-thoughtful.  He gathered his own
-conclusions from her appearance, aided by
-certain hints which the family had let
-fall.  He knit his brows in a fierce scowl.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter, Glen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My old thoughts are working on
-me again—that's what it is—your
-mentioning the old days.  They were the
-best after all, Indiana.  Why, people
-are always raving over sunsets.  You
-should have heard them on the steamer
-coming over.  But once I saw a
-sunset far off in an orchard in
-Indiana—there's never been anything to
-compare with it since—there never will
-be—to the end of time."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, Glen.  Tell me all about
-yourself.  You've changed so much for
-the better, I'm quite bewildered."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's worth crossing the ocean to
-hear that—from you," said Glen, with
-a superior air.  "But I won't sit down
-here—the place chokes me.  I've
-brought a hansom, and we'll jump in
-and take a spin about, till it's time to
-join the folks at dinner."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not going," said Indiana,
-without meeting his eyes.  "My husband
-won't let me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your husband won't let you?  Poor
-child—so it's come to this!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana's pride rose in arms.  "Don't
-waste any sympathy!" she exclaimed,
-her eyes flashing.  "I'm perfectly
-happy, I assure you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you look it," said Glen,
-skeptically.  "I understand it's a case of
-jealousy.  He's trying to wean you
-from your own people.  I suppose I
-won't be allowed to see anything of
-you either.  I'm glad they let me in
-this time, to get one glimpse of you.
-Next time it will be 'Not at home'
-or 'Engaged.'  I'm very sorry you
-couldn't come this one night.  It'll
-spoil the evening for all of us, and I
-had so much to tell you.  But I won't
-keep you.  Good-bye."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glen!" cried Indiana, clenching
-her hands and stamping her foot.  "How
-can you act like that?  I'm no prisoner.
-I can go if I want to—but I don't want to."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That makes it worse than ever,"
-replied Glen, seriously.  "We sympathize
-with you, in the other case, but now
-we must have the pride not to beg
-when you turn upon us.  Good night!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This was more than Indiana could
-bear.  "Glen, I'll go!" she exclaimed,
-desperately.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He came back slowly into the room,
-his eyes shining with joy.  "Will you,
-Indiana?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just sit down and I'll slip into a
-dress.  I shan't be long, Glen."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll have a good time, altogether,
-this one night."  Her resolve, once
-taken, she threw scruples to the wind.
-Glen, walking restlessly up and down
-the room after she had gone to dress,
-spied her photograph on a cabinet.
-First looking suspiciously around him,
-he took possession of it and kissed it
-passionately.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor little thing," he murmured,
-gazing on the photograph, and seating
-himself in a comfortable position, his
-feet on the table.  "Now the first blaze
-of glory is over, and you find—you're
-in for life—what are you going to do,
-little western bobolink, with your wings
-clipped, and your little eyes peering
-over the cruel ocean?  Oh, you'll never
-complain—you're too proud."  He let
-the photograph fall, and buried his face
-in his hands.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana rang for her maid, and
-dressed in feverish haste.  She wished
-to leave the house without coming in
-contact again with Thurston.  Slipping
-quietly down the stairs, she saw a light
-in his den.  The door was not quite
-closed, and she peeped through the
-crack.  He was sitting at his table,
-reading, in a patient attitude, his head
-propped on his hand.  She passed the
-door, then, moved by a sudden
-impulse, went back and looked at him
-again.  There was something which
-appealed to her in the solitary figure
-sitting there, in a pose so passive as to
-almost suggest hopelessness.  She
-noticed the touch of gray in his hair,
-under the lamplight—that, too, appealed
-to her.  She felt vaguely that his was
-not the face of a happy man, and also,
-in a vague sense, her conscience
-reproached her for being responsible.
-She remembered they had always been
-together since their marriage.  Neither
-had taken any pleasure apart.  She
-would have liked to have kissed him
-good-night, and gone with his sanction—but,
-she told herself, that would be
-impossible to gain.  With an involuntary
-sigh she sped down to the library.
-Glen was still sitting, his face buried in
-his hands.  The photograph had fallen
-on the floor.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Here I am, Glen," throwing her
-white wrap in his lap.  "It's not
-necessary to ask you how I look.  I've
-completely stunned you."  He looked at
-her with worshipping eyes.  She had
-donned an airy, diaphanous white
-gown, and her cheeks were glowing,
-her eyes sparkling with excitement.
-"You've been looking at my new
-photo.  Do you like it?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, so-so," he answered, indifferently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I'm going to leave a message
-for Thurston."  She sat down to the
-table and drew some writing materials
-towards her.  Then she gnawed the
-end of the pen in some perplexity,
-looking a little grave.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're afraid," said Glen.  "You're
-sorry—you'd like to back out."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all," answered Indiana,
-drawing herself up indignantly.  "I
-know just what my husband will do.
-He won't say a word to anyone—he'll
-jump in a cab and follow me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And then—a family row."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all.  My husband is too high-bred
-for any public display of feeling.
-He'll look cold and proud, I'll quiver
-my eyelids—and—he'll kiss me—that's
-all."  She smiled triumphantly as she
-scribbled a hasty note.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know," agreed Glen, with a sigh.
-"You could soften anything—even stone."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know that my husband is
-an H.F.R.G.S.?" sealing the note.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is he?  You quite astonish me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, what is it?  Of course you
-don't know.  Honorary Fellow Royal
-Geographical Society.  They want him
-to lead an expedition to the North
-Pole.  If I had said 'no,' he would have
-gone.  It was a toss-up."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What a shame he didn't go,"
-remarked Glen, shaking his head
-dolefully.  "What a loss to science!  Ha,
-ha, ha, ha, ha!"  He laughed so heartily,
-Indiana felt obliged to join him.
-"How jolly I am!" he thought, bitterly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'm so excited!" exclaimed
-Indiana.  "I love uncertainty of any
-kind."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Women are born gamblers," observed
-Glen, fastening her wrap under
-her chin.  Jennings entered, in answer
-to the bell.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jennings," said Indiana, with an
-indifferent air, "there's—there's a note
-on the table for—your master."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yer little leddyship."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Er—I shall be—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I hear someone coming downstairs,"
-whispered Glen.  "Quick, or
-Bluebeard will cut off our heads!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I feel like a bad boy, playing
-truant," laughed Indiana.  "Scoot!"  They
-ran, giggling quietly, into the
-hall.  Jennings, with a horror-stricken
-face, tottered to the window, pushed
-aside the curtains hastily, and pressed
-his face against the glass.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford, entering the library
-then, saw him in this position and
-heard the sound of wheels.  "Who's
-driving off, Jennings?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings started.  "Her—her—little
-leddyship."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford looked at him incredulously.
-He had just been talking with
-Thurston, and Indiana was not likely to
-go out without him.  They always
-remained at home on Sunday nights.
-"Impossible!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Her little leddyship's gone out with
-a gentleman from America," said Jennings.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A light broke on Lord Stafford.
-"Oh, evidently young Masters," he
-thought.  He sank into a chair by the
-fire, pulling his moustache contemplatively.
-"Thurston was apparently
-unaware of the fact—something's up."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston came into the library a
-moment later.  "I thought you were
-dining out to-night, Uncle Nelson."  He
-rubbed his hands, holding them
-over the fire.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford lit a cigarette, trying
-to appear unconcerned.  "I shall be
-off in a minute."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm as hungry as a bear," said
-Thurston, cheerily.  "I must go and
-find Indiana.  I left her asleep here.
-She is usually dressed and down by this
-time."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Er—Thurston," commenced Lord
-Stafford.  But Thurston had left the
-room before he could speak.  Jennings,
-still standing near the window,
-was a little, old figure turned into
-stone.  "By George," muttered Lord
-Stafford.  "A pretty mess, this."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana's not upstairs!" exclaimed
-Thurston, when he entered again.
-"She may be with my mother.  I did
-not think of that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Her little leddyship's gone out,
-sir," said Jennings, shrinking into the
-shadow of the curtains.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Impossible!" exclaimed Thurston,
-loudly.  "I left her asleep here."  Lord
-Stafford put his hand warningly
-on his shoulder.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Her little leddyship left a note,"
-continued Jennings, peering over the
-table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston instantly saw the little
-white note lying among the books.
-He seized and read it quickly.  His
-first expression of incredulous surprise
-faded away.  His face became impassive.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will I serve dinner at eight, sir?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," answered Thurston,
-calmly crushing the note in his hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lord Stafford looked at him
-inquiringly, as Jennings left the room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She has gone with Glen Masters to
-dine with her people—at the Cecil—and
-asks me to fetch her," said Thurston, slowly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then it's all right."  Lord Stafford
-felt, in a measure, relieved.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not all right, by any means,
-Uncle Nelson," answered Thurston, in
-the same repressed voice.  "My wife
-has gone against my express wishes."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, by George!  Too bad!" exclaimed
-Lord Stafford, sympathetically.
-"You'll go and fetch her, of
-course?"  Thurston failed to answer.  An ash
-dropped loudly on the hearth.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Thurston, finally.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I go and fetch her?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No."  The frozen monosyllable
-dropped from his lips like an icicle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you going to do?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I am going to wait up for my
-wife—like a good, obedient husband,"
-he said, bitterly, dropping into a chair.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="late-visitors"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Late Visitors</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The great bronze clock on the
-mantel struck eleven.  Thurston
-paced the library restlessly.  His
-mother had retired, as usual, a little
-after ten.  He had thought it best to
-keep from her the fact of Indiana's
-escapade; excusing her absence from
-dinner on the score of a nervous
-headache, due to the surprise she had
-received that afternoon.  He had
-impressed upon his mother the necessity
-of perfect rest and quiet, for that night,
-at least.  Lady Canning had promised
-not to disturb her, confiding to
-Thurston that she had anticipated his wife
-would suffer bad effects from such a
-"cruel shock," as she expressed it.
-He wished to save Indiana from the
-blame his mother would be sure to
-attach to her, if she knew the truth.  He
-could not brook the idea that his wife
-should fall one iota from her esteem.
-And he also wished his mother's belief
-in his happiness to remain undisturbed.
-She would have suffered intense anxiety,
-on his account, if she had suspected
-there was any flaw in his marital
-relations.  He hoped that some blessed
-future period would see his union, with
-Indiana, established on the solid rock of
-mutual love.  Until then his unhappiness
-was his own secret, one which he
-guarded jealously.  The inference his
-household might take from Indiana's
-action, was a source of great mortification
-to him.  He went to the window
-and looked out.  The thought rankled
-in him that if she had felt the slightest
-respect or love, she could not have
-treated his wishes with such contempt.
-When he turned back into the room,
-Jennings was standing at the door,
-looking at him wistfully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what is it?" he asked, in a
-quick, sharp tone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll keep up the fire, sir, it's a bit
-sharp out to-night," answered Jennings,
-apologetically.  Thurston continued to
-pace the floor, while Jennings piled fresh
-logs on the fire, shaking his head and
-muttering, as he was sometimes in the
-habit of doing.  Suddenly there was an
-imperative knock upon the front door.
-"Ah, here she is, now, sir!" exclaimed
-Jennings, struggling to his feet.  "Here's
-her little leddyship."  He hurried from
-the room, chuckling with delight.
-Thurston's eyes were illumined with a
-sudden flash of joy and he rushed to the
-door to meet his wife.  But the
-movement was an involuntary one.  On
-second thought he sat down to the
-table, took up a book and endeavored
-to appear disinterested.  "Why," he
-thought, remembering anew the facts of
-her absence, "should he act as though
-she had done nothing wrong.  That in
-itself would be a condonation of her
-offence."  He turned his head slowly,
-as Jennings came back to the room,
-followed hurriedly by Stillwater,
-holding his overcoat and opera hat.
-Thurston rose, his expression of cold and
-assumed indifference changing to one
-of deep disappointment and anger.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's my wife—where is she?"
-he demanded, with an uncontrollable
-burst of passion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's all right, my boy, she's all
-right," answered Stillwater, in a
-conciliating tone, beneath which there was
-a trace of embarrassment.  "She's at
-the hotel, with mother and Grandma
-Chazy.  And I came to bring you back
-to finish up the evening with us."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, very much," said
-Thurston, sinking into his chair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, you're mad.  You won't be
-so foolish as to make a fuss about
-nothing."  Thurston looked at him, in
-incomprehending surprise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Stillwater, do you know that
-my wife left the house against my
-express wish and command?  Drove away
-from my door on Sunday evening with
-a gentleman not her husband."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I know all about it, my boy,"
-answered Stillwater.  "But it was only
-Glen—just the same as her own
-brother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My household does not know that.
-The appearance of such a proceeding is
-not favorable."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know—but it's Indiana's way of
-doing things," said Stillwater, rather
-impatiently.  "Just because you said
-she shouldn't, she would.  Now, if you
-handled her a little better—you'll
-excuse me, but I've known her longer
-than you—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You may have known her longer,
-but I doubt if you understand her
-better.  As to handling her, as you call it,
-I will never stoop to bribe or cajole her
-into doing her duty."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right," continued
-Stillwater.  He was there on an errand of
-conciliation, and, though his son-in-law's
-argument seemed absurdly precise and
-conventional, and he assured himself that
-he did not approve of any such cut-and-dried
-policy, he was determined to carry
-out his intention.  "I approve of the
-stand you are taking, but commence after
-we're gone.  It seems rather mean to
-spoil mother's holiday, doesn't it?  Now
-come along, and Indy will receive you
-with open arms.  It'll be all right, I
-promise you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston felt irritated by his
-father-in-law's free-and-easy good nature, his
-light way of disposing of a matter
-which struck the core of all that was
-sacred to him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am very sorry to mar your pleasure,"
-he answered, firmly and coldly.
-"This is the first time my wife has
-openly defied my wishes.  It must be
-the last.  If I give in, it will be the
-beginning of endless repetitions.  And I
-shall fall in line behind her, like a good
-American husband."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater took a slight exception to
-these last words, uttered in a bitterly
-sarcastic tone.  "It's not such a
-terrible thing to be an American
-husband," he said, in an offended voice.
-"I'm one—I don't look very bad on it,
-do I?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston smiled.  "My dear father-in-law,
-if I were an American, I would
-consider it the acme of bliss to be in
-the leading-strings of my pretty wife.
-But I'm an Englishman and—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're not built that way," interrupted
-Stillwater, with an explosion of
-mirth.  Thurston shrugged his
-shoulders and joined in the laugh.  "Come
-along, Thurston," said Stillwater,
-feeling more at his ease.  "Come along.
-She's only a mite.  She's done wrong,
-she knows it, and she's mighty
-uncomfortable."  Thurston's spirits rose at
-this.  Then she was not utterly without
-heart or conscience, where he was
-concerned.  Stillwater watched his face,
-keeping his hand on his shoulder.
-"Now come, and when you get her
-home, read her the riot act."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston shook his head.  "I'm
-very sorry."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater's expression became
-serious.  He had at first intentionally
-made light of the matter.  Now, as
-Thurston's resolution remained
-unshaken, things commenced to assume
-a graver aspect.  "Now, look here,
-Thurston, we won't have her staying
-over night with us.  The place for a
-young wife is under her husband's roof."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then use your authority to convince
-her of that fact."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think I haven't done so,
-already?" asked Stillwater, now intensely
-grave.  "Do you think I came here
-alone to-night without doing all I could
-to get her to come with me?  She
-never told us, until the evening was half
-over, that you forbade her to go—on
-account of Sunday, and your mother, an
-old-fashioned kind of a woman.  Well,
-we wanted to clear her out then and
-there—we begged, and we prayed, and
-we bullied her, and she gave it back to
-us, as good as she got it."  He laughed
-at the remembrance of the scene in
-their rooms at the hotel.  Thurston
-listened in anxious suspense.  "And
-Grandma Chazy became so mad she
-nearly slapped her.  But do you think
-she'd budge?  Not a foot."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston went over and sat down on
-the lounge near the fire, his head on
-his hand, in a hopeless attitude.  It
-was becoming worse and worse.  She
-persisted in her defiance and contempt
-of him, showing it openly to her
-family.  She had no compunction for what
-she had done—none.  Before Stillwater's
-arrival, he had allowed himself
-to think of her coming to him, asking
-prettily for forgiveness, or even one
-look from her deep-blue eyes would
-have been enough.  He would have
-taken her then, so gladly, so thankfully,
-to his heart.  If he had reproached
-her, it would have been tenderly—the
-chiding which is in itself love.  If she
-had made one step towards him, he
-would have met her with three.  But
-she would give him no chance to show
-her how freely, how generously, he
-could forgive for the asking.  It is easy
-for love to ask forgiveness of love.
-But when there is none—this secret
-wound pricked him sorely.  His head
-sank lower on his hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come on, come on," said Stillwater,
-persuasively.  "She don't mean
-anything.  And I'll tell you something—she's
-afraid to come home.  I know
-that little, uneasy laugh of hers—with
-her eyes full of tears.  She's done
-wrong, she's sorry, and she wants you
-to come and make it up.  Won't you
-come, Thurston—won't you?"  He
-bent down, looking into the younger
-man's face.  There was a pathetic
-appeal in his voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston shook his head.  "When I
-think of you three old people, helpless
-against that slip of a girl—it appalls me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Stillwater took his hat and coat from
-the chair where he had laid them.
-"Then I'll tell you what it is—she
-won't come home until you do come
-after her.  That's her ultimatum."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston rose.  "And this is mine,"
-he answered, sternly.  "My mother's
-house closes at twelve o'clock, and if
-she does not return at that time, the
-doors will be closed for the night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll tell her," said Stillwater, with
-an indescribable expression.  "I warn
-you," pausing at the door, "you're
-making a very hard time for yourself.
-Good night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston stood motionless, thinking
-deeply, for some moments after Stillwater
-left the room.  Then he rang for
-Jennings.  The old man responded,
-with an anxious expression.
-"Jennings, Lady Canning may not return
-to-night," said Thurston, in a measured
-tone.  "She will probably remain
-with her people.  Naturally, she wants
-to see as much of them as possible."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yer lordship."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lock up at the usual hour and go
-to bed.  If she is not here by that
-time, she will not return."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yer lordship."  After he left
-the room, as he was crossing the hall,
-he heard a slow, familiar step, a soft
-rustle of silk, on the stairs.  He looked
-up with a sudden throb of fear, and
-saw Lady Canning descending.  He
-knew she thought his little mistress was
-ill in bed with a headache, and the
-contingency that she might come home
-at any moment appalled him.  He
-hurried back to the library.  "Milady, sir,
-milady!" he ejaculated.  "She's
-coming down the stairs."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Heavens," thought Thurston, "I
-thought she was safe for the night.
-Don't look so anxious, Jennings."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When Lady Canning entered, he
-greeted her with a bright smile,
-taking both her hands in his.  Jennings
-pushed a chair up to the fire.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother, this is unusual.  What
-keeps you up at this hour?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've had so much to think of, since
-this afternoon.  I wasn't at all sleepy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at Thurston with
-wide-awake, luminous eyes, as he placed a
-footstool under her feet.  "How is
-Indiana?  Is she sleeping?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," answered Thurston.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad of that, poor little thing!
-Such a cruel surprise!  The excitement
-was too much for her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, the excitement," repeated
-Thurston, mechanically.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings left the room, after he had
-brushed some imaginary ashes from
-the hearth and arranged the curtains.
-Thurston showed no sign of the strain
-under which he was suffering, as he
-talked gently with his mother.  Once
-in a while his eyes sought the clock,
-and his ears, preternaturally sharpened
-by anxiety, heard an imaginary hansom,
-bearing Indiana homeward.  Their
-conversation reverted to his wife's people.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't object to the father and
-mother," said Lady Canning.  "We
-have one great point of sympathy—our
-love for Indiana.  But the
-grandmother—Thurston, is she quite well
-balanced?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston laughed.  "She's a shining
-light, mother—a prominent
-member of women's clubs."  Lady
-Canning shuddered.  "A very shrewd,
-clever woman."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's wonderful how people differ in
-their conception of things," said Lady
-Canning, with a sigh.  "If she were
-my mother, I should consider it necessary
-for her to have a personal attendant.
-What do you think she said to
-me?  That 'I ought to make more out
-of myself,' and if I would come over to
-the hotel, she'd fix me up."  Lady
-Canning looked at her son with a
-shocked expression.  He laughed
-involuntarily, and she finally joined him,
-seeing the amusing side of Mrs. Bunker's
-remark.  "Well, we'll get along
-with them, won't we?" continued Lady
-Canning, taking Thurston's hand
-affectionately in hers.  "They have given
-us our Indiana.  I'm going to make a
-great effort for her sake.  I'm going to
-present her myself at the first
-drawing-room of the season."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother!" exclaimed Thurston, in surprise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I'm coming out of my retirement,
-after twenty years, and we'll make
-a sensation, I promise you."  She patted
-his hand, feeling that the grateful love
-in his eyes was ample reward for all
-this resolution had cost her.  "She's
-brightened my life so much since she
-came.  I'm beginning to take an interest
-in things, for the first time since I
-lost your dear father."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm very glad of that, very glad,
-mother—and happy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, may I creep in and kiss her
-good-night, when I go upstairs?" asked
-Lady Canning, rising.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wouldn't, mother," answered
-Thurston, quietly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't wake her," assured Lady Canning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you had better not,
-mother," said Thurston, in the same
-quiet tone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, just as you say.  I can't
-blame you, even if you are
-over-anxious.  Give her my love and a
-kiss."  She paused at the door,
-looking thoughtfully in his face.  "We
-must love her very much, Thurston.
-And if there are any faults, we must
-deal gently with them, because—she is
-very young, and from what I saw of
-her people, she could have had no
-bringing up whatever."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed strange to hear his mother
-pleading for Indiana just at that
-moment.  "Good-night, mother."  She
-put her arms about his neck and kissed
-him.  He threw himself in a chair, after
-she left the room, feeling deeply
-depressed.  "If there are any faults, we
-must deal gently with them."  His
-mother's words always carried their
-own weight.  Her unconscious
-intercession had touched his heart.  He was
-ready to do everything, to make every
-extenuation, but he felt a dull
-premonition that Indiana would ask for none.
-Neither would she care.  This was the
-worst.  His hidden wound throbbed
-painfully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings crept into the room.  When
-he saw Thurston, sitting with his head
-bowed upon his hands, his face became
-an image of distress.  He looked at the
-clock, then back again to the hopeless
-figure in the chair.  Thurston raised
-his head suddenly.  "What are you
-prowling about for, Jennings?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I just looked in to see after that
-danged fire," said Jennings, in confusion,
-tottering to the fire and poking
-the logs.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston smiled.  "There's no sign
-of it going out, Jennings.  Find a more
-plausible excuse."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you have a cold bite, sir?"
-asked Jennings, piteously.  "You never
-touched the dinner."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston shook his head, opening a book.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A glass of wine, sir?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, Jennings.  Don't bother,
-there's a good fellow—and don't come
-crawling in and out continually.  I
-can't read; it disturbs me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, sir," in a heart-broken
-voice.  He went to the door, then
-tottered back again.  "Another log on,
-sir, if you're not going to bed?  But
-perhaps you are going to bed?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I shall sit up and read."  The
-page before him was a blur.  It lacked
-but a few minutes of twelve.  If she
-would only come, no matter how—whether
-stormy, sulking or weeping—if
-she would only come.  Even at the
-very last moment, to show him that she
-had, at least, some compunction—that
-she realized, in even a slight measure,
-what was owing him!</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>After putting another log on the
-fire, Jennings opened the window and
-looked out.  Then he closed it, with a
-sigh, and stood in the shadow of the
-draperies watching Thurston, with his
-heart in his eyes.  The clock
-commenced to strike.  Thurston, sitting
-with his head over his book, ceased to
-hope.  Every silvery chime fell on his
-head with a dull weight of pain.  What
-had she not left him to infer from the
-fact of her not coming?  Contempt,
-indifference, even fear.  At the last
-stroke of twelve he raised his head and
-looked over at Jennings.  The old man
-was the image of misery.  Answering
-the command in Thurston's eyes, he
-slowly took a bunch of keys from his
-pocket.  "I'll only put up the chain,
-yer lordship, in case—"  He looked
-imploringly at Thurston.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lock it fast," answered Thurston.
-"Take the key out as usual, and go at
-once to bed."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The old man made a silent motion of
-assent, and tottered to the door.
-Suddenly there was a loud knock.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, here she is at last!" cried
-Jennings.  "Here's her little leddyship!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston sprang to his feet with an
-involuntary exclamation of joy.  "My
-wife, my Indiana," he thought.  "She
-has come at the very last moment—a
-sudden impulse to do right.  Thank
-heaven!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings entered slowly, followed by
-Glen Masters.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="awakening"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">Awakening.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"This is rather a late visit, Lord
-Canning," began Glen, in a
-slightly embarrassed manner.  He also
-refrained from offering his hand.  "But
-I—I left the folks about ten o'clock,
-and I—I've been driving about the city
-trying to collect my thoughts."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston silently offered him a chair,
-suffering the reaction of his sudden
-access of joy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana told me you generally sit
-up after she retires, so I waited late to
-find you alone and have it out with you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston met Glen's intense gaze
-with one of polite surprise.  "Oh,
-indeed!  I was not aware there was any
-subject to be thrashed out between you
-and me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana's unhappy.  I can't see
-it—it—it—breaks my heart."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You are a very young man, sir,"
-answered Thurston, coldly, "and
-closely connected with my wife and her
-family, otherwise I should consider this
-a piece of impertinence."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mean it in that way.  I'm
-square and above board, and I hate
-anything clandestine.  This is a case of
-a husband and wife, and another man
-who loves her.  I'm the other man.
-Now kick me out."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should assuredly do so, if you
-were an Englishman.  But in your
-case I will only beg you to explain
-your meaning—I am always willing to
-learn."  He felt obliged to take Glen
-seriously, yet he was conscious of
-feeling amused, in spite of his suffering.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Er—have a cigarette?" asked Glen,
-offering his case.  Though he had been
-braced with confidence when he
-entered, he felt now very much
-embarrassed and at a disadvantage.
-"Indiana won't be likely to come in, will
-she?  I hope she's safe in bed."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, it's not likely," answered
-Thurston, evasively, taking a cigarette,
-which he omitted to light.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to keep her out of it, if I
-can," said Glen.  He leaned back in
-his chair, smoking.  "I'm not much
-of a talker, and this helps me."  He
-puffed furiously.  "But I'm a great
-thinker.  I've lived alone a considerable
-part of my life, and my way of
-doing things may not be considered
-strictly constitutional.  However, that
-don't say I'm wrong."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all," Thurston assured him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you believe that the pursuit of
-happiness is the highest aim of life?"
-asked Glen, in a very important manner.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That depends whose happiness a
-man is pursuing.  You are evidently
-after mine."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha!  Very good.  But I mean, is
-making others happy the highest aim?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Possibly.  My highest aim at present
-is to see my wife perfectly happy."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, that's the point.  And, as we
-both want the same thing, there will be
-no difficulty in joining forces and
-accomplishing it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I fail to see how you can help to
-those results," remarked Thurston, far
-from being infected with the same
-friendly spirit of co-operation.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what I came to tell you,"
-said Glen, boyishly.  "I'm the only
-one who really understands Indiana.  I
-know how to get at her true feelings
-better than all her folks put
-together."  Thurston half smiled at this
-assertion, which frankly ignored him—the
-husband.  Glen puffed his cigarette,
-thoughtfully, watching the rings of
-smoke, as they widened and disappeared.
-"I saw the end of it from the
-first," he continued, in a superior tone.
-"Like all young girls, Indy wanted
-something new.  I'm not blaming
-her—but—she's not happy.  She never
-can be happy, away from her own
-home and people."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you here as my wife's ambassador?"
-asked Thurston, icily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, no, not exactly," responded
-Glen, uneasily.  "But she didn't
-object, when I told her I was going to
-have it out with you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be interesting to know what
-your intentions are against me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I want to tell you the thing
-don't work—I don't see how you could
-expect it.  I want, in a perfectly open
-and straightforward way, to discuss the
-means to the desired end—her happiness."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston smiled wearily.  "This
-would all be very farcical if there were
-not a very serious question for me at the
-root of it, and which my wife's conduct
-to-night has made me realize very
-keenly.  I suppose she was discussing
-me, during your rather unconventional
-hansom-ride this evening?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, she was—and—er—not favorably.
-Now, what do you propose to do?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston rose, answering, very
-sternly and coldly.  "Prove to my own
-satisfaction if it is true, that my wife is
-not, and never can be, happy in her
-new home.  I shall not ask her,
-because she does not know herself what is
-good for her.  I am egotistical enough
-to think that I understand her better
-than her own family—and even better
-than you.  And I am convinced that a
-few years away from her own country,
-and her own people, will convert the
-spoilt child into a splendid,
-self-controlled woman.  If I am mistaken, I
-assure you, the way of retreat shall be
-made very easy for her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Er—how long will it take to discover
-all this—a lifetime?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"About twelve hours."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen looked at him thoughtfully,
-feeling that, owing to his jealousy, he
-had always been unjustly prejudiced
-against Indiana's husband.  There was
-a consciousness of right, a dignity in
-Thurston's bearing, which impressed
-him.  And beneath the calm, cold
-manner in which he had spoken, Glen
-recognized an undercurrent of pain.
-It dawned on him, suddenly, that the
-other's composure was only repression,
-and the man was suffering.  He also
-appreciated the unfailing courtesy with
-which he had been treated.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord Canning," he said, rising, "I
-don't feel near as confident, as I did
-when I came in.  I was sure my
-platform was a just and equitable one, but
-since I've been watching you and listening,
-I begin to feel a little ashamed of myself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No occasion for it, I'm sure,"
-Thurston replied, kindly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're a fine fellow, and if Indiana's
-not happy with you, it's not your fault.
-It's the fault of your nationality—that's
-the only weak point I see in you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"An Englishman and his nationality
-cannot be so easily divorced as a
-husband and wife," said Thurston,
-significantly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen held out his hand.  "Lord
-Canning, although it's against my own
-interests, I—I wish you luck."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir.  One moment,
-please," touching the bell, "the house
-is already closed for the night."  They
-waited silently until Jennings appeared.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Show this gentleman out, Jennings.
-Then lock the door securely."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yer lordship."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night," said Glen.  He
-stepped back to the fire, where
-Thurston was standing, adding,
-confidentially, "You won't see me again.  I
-shall keep out of the way.  I won't
-move a step in this matter until I am
-quite convinced the case is hopeless
-with you.  Good night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When he reached the street, he
-found the cabman asleep on the box.
-He touched him on the shoulder.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where to, sir?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Anywhere—only drive," slipping
-a sovereign in his hand.  The cabman
-whipped up his horse furiously.  He
-had been following similar instructions
-since ten o'clock.  It was now past
-midnight, and the handsome young
-American still persisted in his strange
-whim.  He refrained, however, from
-fatiguing his brain with futile questions,
-realizing the fallacy of such a
-proceeding, when a sovereign reposed
-securely in his pocket.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Glen leaned comfortably back, lighting
-a cigarette.  His dead hopes had
-risen that day from their ashes, and,
-like beautiful, deceiving phantoms, had
-melted into air.  His equilibrium, the
-fortitude it had cost him so much to
-gain, had been shaken to their foundations
-by the thought that his cherished
-dream might still materialize.  He saw
-Thurston's white, suffering face as he
-calmly said he would make the way of
-retreat very easy for Indiana.  Well,
-he was worthy of her love.  That was,
-at least, one solace.  And he would
-win it in time.  It was his right.  With
-a sigh for his transient vision of
-happiness, the beautiful Fata Morgana which
-had charmed his eyes for such a brief
-space, Glen gathered all his moral
-forces to banish Indiana from his mind.
-His manhood was firmly building itself
-on the foundation of these accumulated
-efforts.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston, still sitting up in the
-library, vainly attempted to read.  It
-seemed as though his life were falling
-about him in ruins.  He was mortified,
-humiliated, and incensed at Indiana.
-If she had no love for him, she could,
-at least, have shown more respect for
-the sacred tie which bound them, and
-should have refrained from discussing
-their relations and publishing the fact
-of her unhappiness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings crept in.  He gave a sly
-glance at Thurston, who, with his head
-bent over his book, appeared to be
-reading.  Then he opened the window
-softly and looked out.  Hearing
-nothing, he closed it, but still waited,
-listening, in the shadow of the curtains.
-He felt it incumbent on him to share
-his master's vigil.  Although he would
-not presume to express an opinion to
-Thurston, he had a firm belief that his
-little mistress would come home that
-night.  Jennings' head swayed, and he
-dozed, his head against the window.
-Thurston, sitting with his head in his
-hands, was only dimly alive to his
-surroundings, his consciousness dulled,
-not by drowsiness, but a species of
-stupor.  A knock sounded, very low
-and timid—then again, louder, more
-decided.  Thurston started.  Jennings,
-awakened suddenly, rubbed his eyes,
-wondering if he had heard aright.
-The knock was repeated, doubly and
-imperatively.  Jennings hurried to the
-door, but Thurston, with a quick
-stride, brought his hand heavily down
-on the old man's shoulder.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's her little leddyship, sir.  It's
-her—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The words died on his lips as he met
-his master's determined gaze.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Draw those curtains," directed
-Thurston, in a low, set voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings obeyed.  There was
-another knock.  Thurston extinguished
-the lights.  "She's at the door!" cried
-Jennings, desperately.  "I must let—I—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have said my doors will not be
-opened to-night—and I mean to keep
-my word.  If you make one move to
-undo what I have done, in spite of the
-affection I have for you, I shall dismiss
-you on the spot."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The old man's head sank on his
-breast.  "That I should live to see
-this night," he sobbed.  "I love
-her—little—leddyship—and she—out
-there!"  He slowly took the keys from his
-pocket and laid them on the table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston listened intently.  "She
-has gone back to the cab," he thought.
-"She is speaking to the cabby."  He
-heard the door of the cab slammed and
-the sound of receding wheels.  "She
-has returned to the hotel.  A little
-longer, and I might have—"  He put
-his hand to his head, which was
-burning.  "Jennings, I'll try and get an
-hour's sleep."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I help you, sir?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, thank you.  I shall probably
-come down again."  He mounted the
-stairs heavily to his room, and threw
-himself, dressed as he was, upon the
-lounge.  It was only to live, again and
-again, through the scene which had
-been enacted below.  He heard the
-knock—first faint, then louder, still
-louder.  He saw Jennings break down,
-sobbing, then take the keys from his
-pocket and lay them on the table.  He
-listened intently.  He heard the door of
-the cab slam.  He heard it drive away—over
-his heart.  She had forced him to
-this.  And he had kept his word to her.
-He had not given in.  She would never
-know, never care to know, perhaps, what
-it had cost him.  He tossed restlessly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings still waited below in the
-library.  Thurston had said he would
-come down again.  There was no
-light but the fire, near which the old
-man stood, a little, heart-broken figure.
-Suddenly the sound of low sobbing
-fell on his ears.  He lifted his head
-quickly, listening like a watchdog.
-Then he went to the door and looked
-into the hall.  Hearing nothing, he
-approached the fire again.  The faint
-sobbing continued.  Jennings shivered
-with a slight sensation of fear.  The
-sound was uncanny in the dark room,
-at that hour.  Again he listened,
-every nerve on the alert.  "It's
-outside," he suddenly concluded.  He
-went to the window, opened it and
-peered out.  The night was not utterly
-black, but lit faintly by the rays of a
-watery moon.  Jennings distinguished
-a white object below on the steps.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jennings!" called a familiar voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"God!  Her little leddyship—on the
-steps—in the cold!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it you, Jennings?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yer little leddyship," he
-whispered down, his body half out the
-window.  "I can't open the door, yer
-leddyship.  Hush! don't call out—wait!"  He
-tottered to the hall, in fear
-of Thurston, and listened.  Hearing
-nothing, he tottered back, trembling
-with excitement.  "Yer little leddyship,
-there's those little iron bars—can't
-you find them?  Put your hand
-through the ivy underneath.  Ah,
-that's it.  Now, if you could climb
-up, you're such a light, little body—I'd
-swing you easy enough over the
-balcony.  That's right.  Be careful.  Ah,
-my heart stopped beating.  Now, hold
-on with one hand and put up the other
-as high as you can."  He drew her up
-gradually; she jumped lightly over the
-balcony and into the room.  The fire
-was burning brightly.  She crouched
-before it, shivering, and warming her hands.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'm so cold!" she cried.
-"I'm chilled to the bone!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush," whispered Jennings, in
-mortal fear.  "Speak lower, yer little
-leddyship, if you don't want to ruin me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the meaning of this?" exclaimed
-Indiana.  "Where's my husband?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Asleep."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Asleep!  You heard me, why didn't
-you open the door?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The master took the key from me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana rose from the fire with a
-horror-stricken face.  "He heard me,
-then—he knew I was there?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You won't tell him I helped you in,
-yer little leddyship?" asked Jennings,
-clasping and unclasping his hands, in a
-nervous, frightened fashion.  "He said
-he'd dismiss me on the spot—and he
-always keeps his word."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, he keeps his word," repeated
-Indiana, in a dazed tone, leaning
-against the table.  "I won't tell—and
-I'm in now, thanks to you.  It's a
-terrible thing to be locked out on a
-cold night."  She shivered, folding her
-arms across her bare neck and shoulders.
-She had left her wrap on the
-step, in order to be disencumbered as
-she climbed up to the window.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jennings," called Thurston's voice.
-"Are you in here?  I thought I heard
-someone moving."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Go," whispered Indiana.  Jennings
-slipped quietly from the room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston, feeling his way to the
-table, pressed the electric button of the
-lamp, then started slightly at beholding
-Indiana.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She faced him with clenched hands,
-panting with rage and excitement.
-"You locked me out," she said, hysterically.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And you came in by the window,"
-answered Thurston, coldly and calmly,
-giving a comprehensive glance at the
-open window.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You heard me knock, and you left
-me on the doorstep."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You had due warning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you sent me a nice message
-with my father—to make me look
-ridiculous in the eyes of my own family.
-I waited purposely till after one o'clock
-to prove to them that I was no servant,
-compelled to come home at a stated
-hour, or have the door shut in my
-face."  Her fingers tore nervously at
-her gloves.  "You are my husband—not
-my jailer, I am your wife—not your
-prisoner, to be let out on parole.  I
-give you full liberty of action—if you
-do not give me the same, I shall take
-it.  How dare you leave your wife out
-on the doorstep, like an outcast?—how
-dare you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I dare do whatever is for your good."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My good!" she repeated, with a
-cold laugh.  "I am a child, then, to be
-lectured into silence, to be terrorized
-into submission.  Ah, you do not know
-me!  I will not live with you—I will
-never forgive you—until you come on
-your knees to me—on your knees!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have not asked forgiveness.  It is
-for you to do that.  My wife must not
-outrage my sense of dignity and
-propriety.  You have hurt and wounded
-me beyond pardon.  The sacredness of
-my home relations has been violated
-and coarsely discussed.  I am ashamed
-to raise my head before my own servants.
-And to make it, at last,
-unbearable—your old sweetheart calls me to
-account for your unhappiness.  It is
-too galling—too humiliating!"</span></p>
-<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 58%" id="figure-32">
-<span id="iiwhat-have-i-said-i-didn-t-mean-it"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="&quot;I—I—what have I said? I didn't mean it.&quot;" src="images/img-435.jpg" />
-<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin">
-<span class="italics">"I—I—what have I said? I didn't mean it."</span></div>
-</div>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," exclaimed Indiana, "Glen
-did come, then?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"At your invitation," said Thurston,
-quickly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What of it?  He would not have
-locked me out—insulted me.  Oh, I'm
-sorry I ever married you!"  Thurston
-gave a suppressed cry of pain.  "I
-mean it.  I have never known a harsh
-word in my life.  You—to treat me
-like this!  I won't stand it, I tell
-you!"  Losing all control, she took up a
-paper-cutter and snapped it in pieces in her
-rage.  "I hate you—standing there
-like ice!  I hate—"  Thurston looked
-down into her face with an expression
-of horror and rushed from the room,
-slamming the door.  "I—I—what have
-I said?  I didn't mean it, Thurston,"
-murmured Indiana, with a sudden
-revulsion of feeling.  She stretched out
-her hands piteously, helpless and
-groping, like a frightened child.
-"Thurston, I didn't mean it.  There was a
-rush of red before my eyes—it blinded
-me."  She sank on her knees with a
-feeling of terror at the remembrance.
-"Thurston, I'm afraid," she sobbed,
-shudderingly.  "Don't leave me here
-with myself."  She struggled to her
-feet, trembling from head to foot.
-"Thurston, I'm sorry—forgive me—I
-love you—I—"  She fell blindly
-against the door, then sank to the
-ground, shaking with sobs.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When the storm passed, her exhaustion
-was so great she felt powerless to mount
-the stairs to her room, and lay there on
-the floor, beside the door, throughout
-the night.  Though stiff with cold, her
-moral distress would scarcely permit
-her to notice this physical discomfort.
-She was clutched tightly in the grasp
-of a terrible dread.  That this sudden
-tidal wave of love had rushed over her
-heart too late.  And if this proved true,
-she felt she would no longer have the
-courage to live.  The fact had so
-suddenly awakened in her consciousness,
-as a flower might spring at once into
-full and perfect bloom, that her
-husband's love alone gave life significance.
-She fell, at intervals, from pure
-exhaustion, into a short, troubled sleep,
-awakening always with a remembrance of
-Thurston's horrified face as he rushed
-from the room, closing the door, as
-though he would shut her forever out
-of his life.  When daylight came, she
-rose with an effort and threw herself
-upon the lounge.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="and-as-he-wove-he-heard-singing"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIX.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"And as he Wove he heard Singing."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Jennings, entering the library
-at an early hour that morning,
-started when he saw his little
-mistress lying there, still in her gown
-of the night before, one arm hanging
-listlessly down, her face buried in the
-pillows.  The light was still burning in
-the lamp on the table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yer little leddyship," said Jennings,
-softly, bending over her.  She
-stirred and raised her head.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wasn't asleep, Jennings," she
-answered, in a pathetic voice.  She looked
-like a little, pale wraith, in her white,
-crushed, tulle gown, a fragment of a
-cloud blown by chance into the old,
-gloomy room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You left this on the doorstep, yer
-little leddyship."  He held her long,
-white wrap over his arm.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did I?  Oh, so I did!"  She took
-it and wrapped it about her shoulders,
-shivering.  "I've been here all night
-long, Jennings," piteously, "and I'm
-so cold!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor bairn!" exclaimed Jennings,
-indignantly.  He hurried from the room,
-then returned in a moment, and busied
-himself making a fire, muttering to
-himself—"Poor bairn, it's a shame, a
-shame!"  Indiana watched his operations
-with interest, as she crouched, shivering,
-on the lounge.  "Now, yer little
-leddyship."  He wheeled a large
-armchair before the fire, and she nestled
-into it, holding her hands to the flame.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Pile on the logs, Jennings, pile on
-the logs.  That's right—a big, big
-blaze.  Oh, I shall never be warm
-again.  Who's that?" starting up, as
-some one knocked at the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No one will come in, yer little
-leddyship," said Jennings, soothingly.
-"I ordered some tea and toast for you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tea and toast," repeated Indiana,
-blissfully.  "Tea and toast."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings took the tray and closed the
-door, then drew a small tea-table up to
-the fire.  She watched him eagerly, as
-he poured out the tea.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, thank you, thank you, Jennings,"
-she said, gratefully, taking the
-cup from his shaking hand.  "Oh,
-that's good!  I've never tasted such
-delicious tea.  Is it a new kind?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings shook his head, handing
-her the toast.  "Yer little leddyship
-must be very hungry."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jennings, I can trust you—I know
-you won't say anything."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, yer little leddyship."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did I do so very wrong, did I, that
-I should be treated like this?"  She
-caught her breath with a sob, the tears
-rising to her eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It was cruel, cruel, yer little
-leddyship," answered Jennings, in a
-heart-broken voice.  "There, there—have
-another cup of tea—that'll comfort yer."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do the servants all like me, Jennings?"
-asked Indiana, eating the sugar
-out of her tea, like a child.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They'd go through fire and water
-for yer little leddyship, every mother's
-soul of them," answered Jennings,
-enthusiastically.  "And my lady—she's
-taken on a new lease of life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana smiled brightly through her
-tears.  "How long have you really
-been with the family, Jennings?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sixty years, yer little leddyship,"
-said Jennings, turning out the light
-and arranging the books on the table.
-"My father was gamekeeper for his
-lordship's grandfather, and when I was
-ten years old I was taken into the house."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sixty years," repeated Indiana,
-dipping her toast in the tea and eating it
-with relish.  "And have you never
-thought of bettering yourself, Jennings?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings drew himself up proudly.
-"Impossible to do better.  It's a great
-satisfaction to look back on my life,
-and feel I have always done my duty
-faithfully."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose it is a great pleasure to
-serve those whom we respect," said
-Indiana, looking at him with interest.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's more than pleasure, yer little
-leddyship.  To serve the right master,
-it's pupil and teacher, friend and
-friend."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The handle of the door turned slowly.
-Indiana, who had been coiled up, like
-a kitten, in the big armchair, put down
-her feet, which had been tucked under
-her, and straightened herself stiffly.  In
-her nervousness she almost dropped
-her cup, and she looked piteously at
-Jennings, as though for help.  It could
-be no other than Thurston, as the
-servants would have knocked, and no
-one else rose so early.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She was right.  When he entered
-and saw the picture by the fire—Indiana,
-sitting in her white wrap, with the
-tea-tray before her, and Jennings
-standing near—he paused for a moment.
-Jennings took the tray and left the
-room.  Thurston felt neither curious
-nor interested to know why she had
-stayed there all night.  He himself had
-not closed his eyes.  He had
-summoned all his strength to make a
-certain resolution, one which he
-considered imperative, after his wife's
-passionate avowal of hate and regret.
-All else—things which at another time
-he would have accounted strange—seemed
-trivial and unimportant.  He
-had relinquished all hope of winning
-his wife's love.  He saw himself
-weaving the gray web of his life until the
-end.  Indiana gave one swift glance
-at his face as he approached the fire,
-then quickly averted her eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have weighed existing circumstances
-as fairly as possible, and have
-concluded that our case is hopeless,"
-began Thurston, without preliminaries.
-Indiana, her hands tightly clasped, her
-eyes gazing straight before her,
-listened with strained attention.  "I have
-tried to awaken you, gradually, to the
-personal responsibility of your new
-position.  My confidence was strong in
-my own power to win a love that, to
-me, was worth waiting for—worth the
-winning."  He covered his eyes with
-his hand, then went on, with an effort.
-"My courage has gone.  The dread of
-a repetition of last night's
-frenzy—degrading to us both—between husband
-and wife—horrible!"  His agitation
-would not permit him to continue.
-He turned from her and paced the
-room.  Finally, he stopped and looked
-at her motionless figure.  "Have you
-anything to say?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Her lips trembled, she shook her
-head, trying to restrain an hysterical
-outburst of sobs.  Then she rose to go
-to her room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"One moment," said Thurston,
-sternly.  "I do not wish your maid to
-see you like this.  You must help
-yourself this morning, and—I shall
-breakfast with my mother.  When you are
-quite composed and ready to receive
-her, she will come to you—as she
-thinks you retired early last night with
-a headache."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, she doesn't know!" exclaimed
-Indiana.  "I'm glad of that—very glad."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your people were talking of going
-to Paris in a week or so—you will go
-with them—on a pleasure trip."  Indiana,
-leaning against the table, lifted her
-eyes wonderingly to his.  He met her
-gaze, proudly and relentlessly.  "You
-will go with them to America—on a
-pleasure trip.  I will break it to my
-mother, slowly—that you are not
-coming back."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A deathlike faintness passed over
-Indiana as she listened to his calm,
-passionless voice, pronouncing sentence
-upon her.  She could not, at that
-moment, utter a word of pleading or
-remonstrance.  He seemed like a rock
-of relentless justice, against which she
-might hurl herself, only to be dashed
-in pieces.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You see, I have made it very easy
-for you to drop the shackles of the
-tyrant and regain your lost and coveted
-freedom," he added, bitterly.  She
-grasped the edge of the table
-desperately with her small hands.  "If you
-had only loved me," cried Thurston,
-despairingly, "it might have been
-different!  But how could I expect it?
-You have never been taught to love—to
-sacrifice for love.  Only to be
-loved—to demand sacrifices from
-others."  Gathering all her strength, Indiana
-moved to the door.  He held it open
-for her, and she passed him with
-averted eyes, looking dazed and hopeless.
-"Indiana!" he cried, involuntarily, as
-she disappeared down the long hall.
-By a great effort he prevented himself
-from rushing after her.  Sinking down
-in a chair, he buried his face in his
-hands.  He had spoken the final words
-between them—there was no retraction
-now.  But so utterly had the serene
-and smiling little witch taken possession
-of his heart, he felt, that in exorcising
-her he was plucking it bodily from his
-breast.  Only the necessity of appearing
-composed before his mother rescued
-him from succumbing utterly to his
-despair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana had not heard Thurston's
-smothered cry.  She climbed the stairs
-laboriously, clinging to the banisters.
-There seemed to be iron weights
-hanging to her limbs.  But this was the
-result of lying for so many hours on the
-hard floor, in the cold library.
-Consciousness, too, seemed fading away
-from her.  She only wished to retain it
-until she reached her room; then, she
-felt, she would be quite satisfied to part
-with it forever.  Thurston's last words
-echoed in her ears, "You have never
-been taught to love—to sacrifice for
-love—only to be loved—to demand
-sacrifices from others."  That was what
-Jennings meant when he said that he
-looked back with satisfaction on his
-life, knowing he had served a loved
-master faithfully.  Even Jennings
-realized the spirit of love, while—reaching
-her bed at last, she pushed back
-the covers and coiled herself in its
-soft depths.  Thoughts floated mistily
-in her brain.  "I have missed many
-things—to love, to serve, to sacrifice.
-Perhaps it was not all my fault—not
-all."  She lapsed into unconsciousness,
-but it was the unconsciousness of
-which nature makes use to soothe
-exhausted and tired humanity—sleep.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>At noon she awoke of her own
-accord, wonderfully refreshed morally
-and physically.  Things assumed a new
-aspect.  The very knowledge of her
-love gave her happiness.  One
-supreme fact remained, in spite of all that
-had passed—she loved her husband,
-and he her.  It was impossible, she
-argued, that her conduct of last night
-could have utterly killed a love as deep
-as she knew his to be.  The only
-barrier between them was his wounded
-love and pride, one which she thought
-she could easily break with her two
-small hands.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings knocked, and whispered
-that Mrs. Bunker and her father and
-mother were below.  He had told
-them she was asleep.  Did she wish to
-give any message?</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't say anything.  I'll be down
-in a little while, Jennings."  She
-dismissed him with a reassuring smile and
-a nod.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Her little leddyship looked so
-smiling—maybe it's all come right again,"
-thought Jennings, in delight, as he
-descended the stairs.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So they're all there," mused
-Indiana.  "I shall act as if nothing
-is the matter."  She continued the
-process of dressing, without a maid.
-A cold bath brought the bloom back
-to her cheeks.  Her eyes were very
-bright, yet tender.  She donned an
-airy, rose-colored morning-gown,
-dotted here and there with black velvet
-bows.  Standing at her dressing-table,
-putting another black velvet bow in the
-fluffy, yellow puffs of her hair, a
-sudden misgiving assailed her—that her
-power to win him back might not be as
-strong as she imagined.  She shivered
-at the remembrance of his stern,
-implacable face, when he entered the
-library that morning.  What if he would
-not retract his words, remaining strong
-in his determination that they should
-part?  Her face looked piteously back
-at her from the glass.  "Well, I, too,
-am strong—very strong," she thought,
-bravely.  "I am his wife—and I love
-him."  She bent forward and kissed
-her face in the mirror.  "Good luck
-to us, Indiana," she said, with a laugh,
-followed by a rush of tears.  "We'll
-fight for our happiness—won't we?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The family were sitting below in the
-library with Thurston and Lord Stafford.
-No one, so far, had ventured a
-remark or asked a question relating to
-the night before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker, finally, tired of discussing
-matters which did not interest her,
-and anxious to know something relating
-to the subject uppermost in all
-their minds, went to the window,
-pretending that she wished to see if her
-hansom was still waiting, well aware
-Lord Stafford would follow her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You look charming this morning,
-Mrs. Bunker," remarked Lord Stafford,
-gallantly joining her, as she
-expected, in the window embrasure.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So Indiana is sleeping it off,"
-observed Mrs. Bunker, confidentially.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sure I don't know," answered
-Lord Stafford, twirling his moustache.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You were with Thurston when we came?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Lord Stafford, indifferently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, he told you?" queried Mrs. Bunker,
-in an exasperated tone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston said nothing, and, of
-course, I couldn't ask."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you English are the closest-mouthed
-people.  They've had a row.
-Haven't you any curiosity to know how
-it ended?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm burning to find out," answered
-Lord Stafford, calmly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's nothing burning about
-you—except your cigar," said Mrs. Bunker,
-contemptuously, "and that's going out."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So it is—thank you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me hold the match, your hand
-is trembling, mine is as firm as a rock."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, I'm getting on—but you have
-discovered the secret of eternal youth."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We had a time getting her home,"
-said Mrs. Bunker, in a low voice,
-ignoring this last remark.  "Do you
-think her mother and father had
-any influence with her?  Not a bit.
-Grandma Chazy did it.  I sent the
-poor, deluded parents to bed, and I
-put on a wrapper and fussed about my
-room, while she sat by herself in the
-parlor, working herself up into a rage about
-her husband's tyranny, and rushing to
-the window, every time a cab passed,
-to see if he was coming.  Well, I grew
-tired of this, so I went to bed.  When
-she had worn herself out, she put her
-head into my room.  'Grandma Chazy,
-where shall I sleep?'  'On the sofa,
-dear.  Throw your cloak over you.
-I've only a single bed, or I would offer
-you half.'  She slammed the door, in a
-rage.  About a half hour later,
-'Grandma Chazy, I guess I'll go home.'  'Is
-that so, dear?  Going—good night.'  And
-I fell asleep, apparently."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Bunker," remarked Lord
-Stafford, "if I ever marry, it shan't be
-an American."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh yes, you will, because you say
-you won't."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, then I shan't marry at all—that's
-the safest way."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The most dangerous," assured Mrs. Bunker,
-mockingly.  "A man is never
-safe from marriage until he is married."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, ha, ha!  Very good.  Mrs. Bunker,
-you are really the liveliest woman
-I have ever met."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm not going to waste my
-day here," said Mrs. Bunker,
-decidedly.  "I want to see the shops and
-take Indiana along.  Thurston,"
-advancing into the room, "I'm dying to
-see Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston looked at her gravely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear Mrs. Bunker, I have plans
-for the future, which it is best you
-should know before you see Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. and Mrs. Stillwater looked anxious,
-but Mrs. Bunker took his words lightly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't make any plans, Thurston.
-And don't look so serious.  You've
-made up your mind to something—I
-can see that—but she'll upset it all in a
-jiffy.  You don't know Indiana."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," answered Thurston, without
-relaxing his gravity of expression, "and
-I never shall.  Mr. Stillwater, your
-daughter is very anxious to go with
-you to Paris—and I have consented."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston, how good of you to let
-her!" cried Mrs. Stillwater, innocently.
-"It is the only thing to complete my
-happiness."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't approve of it," said Mrs. Bunker.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I am about making arrangements
-for a long trip—for scientific
-purposes," continued Thurston, in a slow,
-mechanical voice.  "I will be away
-from England for some time, and I
-think it advisable your daughter should
-go home with you—until my mission is
-over."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Stillwater folded his arms,
-looking keenly into Thurston's eyes.
-"Well, of course, nothing would suit
-us better; but, my dear fellow—is it
-good for a young married couple to
-separate so soon?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, it is not good."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then must you go?" asked Mr. Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston raised his eyes, meeting
-Stillwater's piercing glance, steadily.
-"I must go."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Stillwater was so overcome with
-joy at the prospect of having Indiana
-at home once more, she failed to see
-anything strange in the arrangement.
-"Of course, we're sorry, Thurston, but
-if you're obliged to go away, it's quite
-natural you should want to leave
-Indiana with us."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I, for one, don't like it," added
-Stillwater, decidedly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How long do you expect to be
-away?" inquired Mrs. Stillwater.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"For several months—perhaps
-forever."  His voice broke.  He turned
-from them all and leaned his forehead
-against the mantel, gazing with
-hopeless eyes into the fire.  The others
-looked at one another in apprehensive
-silence.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, everybody," said a
-gay, sweet voice.  They all looked, in
-relieved surprise, at Indiana, smiling in
-answer to her greeting.  Her cheeks
-were as rosy as her gown.  Her eyes
-seemed to laugh with happiness.
-Thurston stared at her, aghast at this
-apparent heartlessness.  "Her eyes
-have not looked so happy since I
-married her," he thought.  "It's the
-prospect of freedom.  My resolution was
-well taken—I'm glad, for her sake.
-What a charming little face—like a
-cherub.  Ah, if she had only loved me!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana went to Lord Stafford, with
-outstretched hands.  "Dear Uncle
-Gerald, you want to kiss me good-morning,
-don't you?  Well, you shall."  She
-put up her mouth to be kissed.
-Then she flitted airily to Mr. Stillwater,
-put her arms about his neck and
-nestled to his breast.  "You dear old
-pop, I love you so!"  She rubbed her
-face against his.  "I was naughty last
-night, wasn't I?  Don't tell anybody.
-You forgive me, don't you?  There!"  She
-kissed him a number of times, and
-then floated out of his arms, a
-rose-colored cloud, over to her mother.
-"You old goosie, you were afraid I
-wouldn't come home.  Why didn't
-you take me by the shoulders and push
-me out?  But you couldn't be harsh
-with your little Indy, your baby, your
-only one.  I love you so!"  Mrs. Stillwater
-pressed her joyfully to her breast,
-murmuring caressing words, and kissing
-her hair.  Finally, releasing herself,
-Indiana looked at Mrs. Bunker,
-undecided how she should approach
-her.  She had been severely scolded
-by that lady the night before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Bunker frowned at her, then
-smiled.  "You little monkey," she
-said, then shook her finger warningly.
-Indiana answered by a good-natured
-grimace, then she went to Thurston.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Thurston," she
-said, after a swift glance, demurely
-offering her cheek.  Thurston hesitated.
-"Ah, here's dear Lady Canning," continued
-Indiana, artfully, still standing in
-an expectant position.  Thurston bent
-down quickly and touched his lips to
-her cheek.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been so worried about this
-child," said Lady Canning, taking
-Indiana's outstretched hands, when she
-had greeted the others very graciously.
-"I wanted to see you last night, dear,
-but Thurston wouldn't let me.  Are you
-sure you feel quite well again?"  She
-seated herself, drawing Indiana to her
-side and looking anxiously in her face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Splendid," replied Indiana, sinking
-down on her knees and putting her
-arm about Lady Canning's waist.  "It
-was a bad spell—while it lasted, but
-when it passes off I always feel better.
-I won't have another for a long time—I
-hope never."  She peeped slyly
-under her eyelashes at Thurston.  "A
-bad spell is good for something—it
-makes me realize how much everybody
-loves me, and how much I love
-everybody—and I do love you, dear Lady
-Canning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Darling!" murmured Lady Canning,
-quite overcome, pressing Indiana's
-head to her breast.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There now, who can resist Indiana,"
-said Mrs. Stillwater.  "Darling,
-your husband says you are going to
-Paris with us."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Am I?" asked Indiana, in a surprised
-voice.  She turned to Lady Canning.
-"I want you to scold Thurston,
-dear.  He's too good.  He's given in,
-because they're dying for me to go to
-Paris with them.  But I wouldn't think
-of such a thing.  I wouldn't leave
-him—or you, dear Lady Canning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Indy!" exclaimed Mrs. Stillwater,
-in a hurt and jealous tone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana," said Stillwater, watching
-her face, "Thurston says you can home
-with us, if you like, while he's on his
-trip."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What trip?" asked Indiana, quickly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it possible you have not given up
-that idea, Thurston?" questioned Lady
-Canning, severely.  She turned
-apologetically to Mrs. Stillwater.  "He always
-had an insane desire to go to the North
-Pole, but I thought marriage had cured
-him of it.  Indiana, put your foot down
-on that idea, once and for all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I put my foot down!" exclaimed
-Indiana.  "Oh dear no—he's the
-master.  But let us hope he will think
-better of it."  She folded her hands
-severely, bearing with the highest degree
-of equanimity the astonished looks of
-her family.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston, who at first could scarcely
-give credence to what he heard,
-concluded she was playing the hypocrite in
-order to win sympathy for herself, and
-at the same time divert it from him,
-putting him in the character of a
-heartless husband.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That little monkey's playing for
-something," thought Mrs. Bunker,
-"and she'll win her game, as sure as
-I'm her grandmother.  Well, Indiana,
-it's settled, then, that you're not going
-to Paris with us."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Grandma Chazy, I'm a married
-woman," answered Indiana, with an
-offended air, "I can't be running about
-like a young girl."  Lady Canning
-nodded approvingly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I must get out of this," exclaimed
-Mrs. Bunker, desperately.  "I feel
-choked for air.  We're going to do
-some shopping.  Indiana, do you want
-to come?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, considering Indiana was so
-ill, I think it advisable for her to
-remain quietly at home to-day," said
-Lady Canning.  "But I should be very
-pleased to have you all dine with us
-this evening."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana heard Lady Canning with a
-sensation of relief.  She was suffering a
-tension of suspense.  And she felt that
-to go out with her family and keep
-up this semblance of light-heartedness
-would have been an unendurable strain.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There, what did I tell you?"
-remarked Mrs. Bunker to Thurston,
-when they were on the point of leaving.
-"Where are your plans now?"  He
-made no answer, standing, determined
-and pale, by the mantel, and following
-Indiana's every move as she flitted
-from one to the other, kissing them
-good-bye.  "Good morning, Lady
-Canning," said Mrs. Bunker.  "I wish
-I had your complexion.  Yes, I do."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come early," pleaded Indiana,
-clinging to her mother, "and we'll have a
-good, long talk before dinner, my
-dearest mother—and—and—after
-to-day we'll spend all our time together."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it's a shame you can't go
-with us.  You're perfectly well?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Lady Canning's right—I have
-a headache.  I was excited last
-night—at the hotel."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your color's so bright—perhaps
-you're feverish," observed Mrs. Stillwater,
-anxiously.  "Indy, is it all right
-between you and Thurston?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—mother—it's all right."  Mrs. Stillwater
-looked at her with an anxious
-expression.  But Indiana met her gaze
-hopefully.  "Don't worry, mother,"
-she said.  "I love Thurston, and he
-loves me—so it's all right, isn't it?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, my darling," sighed Mrs. Stillwater,
-greatly relieved.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Even if—if things don't go as they
-should sometimes," said Indiana,
-wistfully, "they come right after a
-while—don't they—when people really love
-each other?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing matters, so long as you
-love each other," Mrs. Stillwater
-assured her, with the wisdom of her long
-matrimonial experience.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana watched them driving off,
-from the window—her mother and
-father in one hansom, Mrs. Bunker
-and Lord Stafford in another.  The
-latter had manifested a desire to go
-shopping.  He thought seriously of
-joining the party on their Parisian trip.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston," asked Lady Canning,
-in a very serious voice, "is there
-anything wrong between you and your
-wife?"  Indiana, at the window,
-listened with every nerve.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, mother," answered Thurston,
-purposely refraining from one
-glance at the little figure standing in
-the shadow of the curtains.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then what has driven you to this
-sudden resolve?  How could you think
-of doing such a cruel thing?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean to do it, mother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Canning looked at her son with
-very displeased eyes.  "Thurston, you
-are developing an exceedingly bad
-temper.  You—you have never before
-acted in such an inconsistent,
-inconsiderate manner.  And with such a sweet
-wife.  You don't deserve her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother, don't scold him," said
-Indiana, pleadingly.  Thurston cast on
-her an indescribable look.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jennings appeared then, and announced
-that the carriage was waiting
-to take Lady Canning for her morning
-drive.  She sat in displeased silence,
-until her maid brought her bonnet and
-cloak.  Before she left the room, she
-turned severely to Thurston.  "I do
-do not wish to see you again until you
-tell me you have abandoned this fool-hardy,
-heartless idea, for good and all."  She
-took Indiana in her arms.  "My
-darling, forgive him, for my sake."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I will, dear Lady Canning," said
-Indiana, angelically.  "I—it's very
-weak, I know, but I couldn't be angry
-with him—no matter what he did."  Thurston
-stared at her, aghast at such
-hypocrisy.  Indiana led Lady Canning
-out into the hall.  "Don't worry," she
-whispered, as Jennings held the door
-open for her to pass to the carriage.
-"It will be all right, I'll manage
-him."  When she returned to the library,
-Thurston was staring into the fire.
-She approached quietly, and he raised
-his eyes, to see her standing meekly
-before him, her hands clasped in a
-childish fashion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You have played your part well,"
-he said, bitterly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana raised her eyes supplicatingly,
-then dropped them again.  "I
-wasn't acting," she said, innocently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's well that you can be so light-hearted,
-when I am suffering tortures,"
-he continued, with an involuntary burst
-of grief and bitterness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, I was acting—but I felt the
-part.  I do love everybody, and I want
-to be good again and make up."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Cease playing the spoilt child," said
-Thurston, wearily.  "Last night's
-performance can never be repeated under
-my roof—never shall be.  You can tell
-your own story.  Paint me the brutal
-husband—the tyrant.  I shall not
-contradict you.  I am resolved upon one
-thing—to leave England."  He stared
-hopelessly into the fire again, leaning
-his forehead on the mantel.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose it's no use—asking
-you—to—forgive me," she said, watching
-him sharply.  He turned quickly, and
-she dropped her eyes.  "If—if there
-won't be a repetition," she continued,
-her lips quivering like those of a child
-on the verge of tears.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You cannot change your nature,"
-he replied, coldly, not allowing himself
-to believe in the sincerity of this
-contrition.</span></p>
-<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 62%" id="figure-33">
-<span id="i-will-have-love-to-help-me"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="&quot;I will have love to help me.&quot;" src="images/img-474.jpg" />
-<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin">
-<span class="italics">"I will have love to help me."</span></div>
-</div>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, and that's why you're very
-wrong in being so hard with me.  I
-was good, wasn't I?  For three months
-and then, when the folks rushed
-down on me, like a river breaking a
-dam, I broke out—that's all."  She
-raised her arms, with a long, despairing
-sigh.  "Thurston, if you will go
-away, may I stay with your mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, you don't know how I
-suffer—you cannot.  As long as all the
-love is on my side, my wishes will be
-commands to you; my plans for your
-welfare and happiness—domination.
-There should be no such question
-between a man and wife who love each
-other.  It could not have ended otherwise.
-A union without the sacred seal
-of love—is cursed."  He went from
-her to the door, terribly agitated,
-wishing they could part finally, then and
-there, in order to spare himself the
-further torture of looking at
-Indiana with the thought that he had
-renounced her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thurston, you'll shake hands with
-me—won't you?" she asked, imploringly,
-a look of terror dawning in
-her eyes.  He extended his hand,
-with averted gaze.  Indiana grasped
-it quickly, then held it for dear life.
-"You shall listen to me," she pleaded,
-in a voice vibrating with intense
-emotion, her breast heaving, her eyes
-dilating, until they looked almost black
-under the yellow hair.  "I won't let you
-go until you've heard it.  All my life
-I've queened it over people, delighting
-to feel my own power—to make the
-poor things who loved me bend to my
-will.  Last night I saw the horror in
-your face when you turned from
-me—leaving me alone with my
-uncontrolled, undisciplined nature.
-Thurston, how could you expect me to be
-different?  It wouldn't be natural if I
-were.  I wanted to queen it over my
-husband—to be put up on a pedestal
-and worshipped.  I thought it was
-enough if I let him love me—but I
-never knew it was better to love than
-to be loved, to serve than to be
-served."  She looked into his face with
-piteous eyes, and said, in a low,
-frightened voice, "Thurston, take my two
-hands—hold them fast—while I step
-down from my throne—and then, when
-we stand together, side by side, I can
-whisper in your ear—I never could up
-there—that I love you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, for God's sake, don't play
-with me again!" he cried, passionately.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She drew his head down to her and
-kissed him.  "Thurston, husband,"
-she murmured, in a low, wondering
-voice, "I love you better than myself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana!"  He pressed her to his
-heart, with the feeling that they were
-on holy ground, even standing at the
-altar, and the sacred seal had just been
-set to their union.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana raised her head, the tears
-trembling on her lashes.  "I'll never
-break out again."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you will, but next time I will
-have love to help me.  Indiana, look at
-me—look at me.  I cannot realize
-it—my wife loves me!  Do you remember
-one day, in the Adirondacks, out on
-the lake, at that weird place called the
-Devil's Pulpit?  I think—yes, it was
-the first day I spent with you—you
-wanted a story, and I gave you a part
-of my inmost life—do you remember?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I remember—how clearly I
-remember.  The great, black rock
-hanging over us; the blue mountains
-in the distance; your voice, telling me
-of the weaver—"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Indiana, his dream has come true—at
-last.  'And the web, transformed
-into a gleaming fabric of light,
-gladdened the soul of the weaver.'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Indiana drew a little space away,
-quoting his own words, with uplifted
-hands, "'And as he wove he heard
-singing, a choir of beautiful, jubilant
-voices.'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thurston looked into her eyes, then
-held out his arms.  "I hear them, Indiana!"</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">The Invaders</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">By JOHN LLOYD.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span>12mo; cloth; illustrated.  $1.50.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The story is one of ranch life and of the
-troubles with the so-called cattle-thieves,
-which eventuated in
-one of the most dramatic incidents of the
-ever-dramatic West—the famous "Rustler War."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The cattlemen alleged that their fight
-was one against
-"Rustlers"; their opponents contended
-that they were but honest homesteaders,
-whose only crime was that of fencing in their
-possessions, thereby destroying the open
-range.  Owen Wister's great story, "The
-Virginian," gives the cattlemen's side of the
-controversy; "The Invaders" is written from
-the opposing viewpoint.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Into this stirring history, the hero, John
-Thorpe, a tenderfoot, is precipitated, and it
-is his part in the struggle that furnishes the
-thread of the story.  The love plot
-introduced early in the tale enlivens the story
-and sustains the reader's interest throughout.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>*      *      *      *      *</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">Fanny Lambert</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">By HENRY DEVERE STACPOOLE.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span>Author of "The Crimson Azaleas," "The
-<br />Blue Lagoon," etc., etc.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span>12mo; cloth.  $1.50.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The two chief figures in this story are
-Fanny Lambert and
-her father, two entirely unconventional
-characters, delightfully simple and
-unworldly.  The book is full of irresistably
-humorous touches, irresponsible fun
-being, in fact, its
-characteristic feature.  The lesser figures, down to the
-merest thumbnail sketches, are all incisively drawn.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>*      *      *      *      *</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">For Charles the Rover</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">By MAY WYNNE.</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span>12mo, cloth $1.50</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Author of "Henry of Navarre," etc., etc.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A rattling good story of love and intrigue in good old
-Ireland in the days and for the cause of
-Charles the Rover.</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>"Of all the days that's in the year</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>The tenth of June I love most dear,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>When sweet white roses do appear</span></div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line"><span>For sake of Charles the Rover.</span></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>"Our noble Ormond, he is drest,</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>A rose is glancing at his breast;</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>His famous hounds have doffed his crest,</span></div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line"><span>White roses deck them over."</span></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>R. F. FENNO &amp; CO., 18 East 17th St., N.Y.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em">
-</div>
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author	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-03-03 15:45:04 -0800
committer	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-03-03 15:45:04 -0800
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