diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/50274-8.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50274-8.txt | 2102 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 2102 deletions
diff --git a/old/50274-8.txt b/old/50274-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 16146b7..0000000 --- a/old/50274-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2102 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little House, by Coningsby Dawson - -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 Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. 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. - - - -Title: The Little House - -Author: Coningsby Dawson - -Illustrator: Stella Langdale - -Release Date: October 21, 2015 [EBook #50274] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE HOUSE *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -THE LITTLE HOUSE - -By Coningsby Dawson - -With Illustrations By Stella Langdale - -New York: John Lane Company - -1920 - - - - -[Illustration: 0001] - -[Illustration: 0008] - -[Illustration: 0009] - - -TO - -THE LITTLE LADY - - - - - -THE LITTLE HOUSE - - - - -CHAPTER I - -[Illustration: 9017] - -HE little house, tell this story. It was lived within my walls; not a -line is invented and it was I, by my interfering, who brought about the -happy ending. Who wants a story that does not end happily, especially a -Christmas story? To have been responsible for the happy ending is pretty -nearly as clever as to have made the story up out of one's own head or, -as we houses say, out of one's own walls. - -Perhaps you never heard before of a house telling a story. If that be -so, it is because you don't listen or because you go to bed too early. -Unlike people, we houses sleep all day long; but after midnight we wake -up and talk. When the clock strikes twelve, our stairs begin to crack -and our windows to rattle and our floors to creak. If you ever hear -these sounds, don't be frightened; they simply mean that the kind old -walls that shelter you have begun to remember and to think. And we have -so many things to remember and to think about, especially we old houses -who have been standing for almost two hundred years. We have seen so -much; we have been the friends of so many generations. More little -children have been born beneath our roofs than we have stairs on which -to count. We reckon things on our stairs, just as people reckon things -on their fingers. When our stairs crack after midnight, it's usually -because we're counting' the births and love-makings and marriages we -have watched. We very often get them wrong because there are so many of -them. Then the doors and windows and floors will chip in to correct us. -"Ha," a window will rattle, "you've forgotten the little girl who used -to gaze through my panes in 1760 or thereabouts." One of the doors will -swing slowly on its hinges and, if anyone disputes with it, will bang, -shouting angrily, "Wrong again--all wrong." Then the walls and the -windows and the doors and the floors all start whispering, trying to -add up correctly the joys and sorrows they have witnessed in the years -beyond recall. - -[Illustration: 0019] - -When that happens, if you're awake and listening, you'll hear us start -adding afresh, from the lowest to the topmost stair. - -I am a London house and a very little house, standing in a fashionable -square near Hyde Park. I have known my ups and downs. Once was the time -when I was almost in the country and the link-boys used to make a fuss -at having to escort my lady so far in her sedan-chair. It's a long way -to the country now, for the city has spread out miles beyond me. Within -sight through the trees at the end of the square red motor-buses pass, -bumping their way rowdily down to Hammersmith and Kew. In my young days -these places were villages, but I am told they are full of noises now. -I have at least escaped that, for our square is a backwater of quiet and -leads to nowhere, having an entrance only at one end. All the houses -in the square were built at the same time as I was, which makes things -companionable. We all look very much alike, with tiny areas, three stone -steps leading up from the pavement, one window blinking out from the -ground-floor, two blinking out from each of the other floors and a -verandah running straight across us. In summer-time the verandah is -gay with flowers. Our only difference is the colour we are painted, -especially the colour of our doors. Mine is white; but some of our -neighbours' are blue, some green, some red. We're very proud of the -front-doors in our square. In the middle stands a railed-in garden, -to which none but our owners have access. Its trees are as ancient as -ourselves. Behind us, so hidden that it is almost forgotten, stands -the grey parish-church, surrounded by a graveyard in which many of the -people who have been merry in us rest. - -For some years we were what is known as a "gone down neighborhood," -till a gentleman who writes books bought us cheap, put us in repair and -rented us to his friends. This has made us very select; since then we -have become again fashionable. - -Now you know all that is necessary to form a mental picture of us. -Because we are so small, we are sometimes spoken of as "Dolls' House -Square." All the things that I shall tell you I do not pretend to -have witnessed, for houses have to spend their lives always in the one -place--they cannot ride in taxis and move about. We gain our knowledge -of how the world is changing by listening to the conversations of people -who inhabit us; when night has fallen we mutter among ourselves, passing -on to one another beneath the starlight down the lamp-lit streets -the gossip we have overheard. Whatever of importance we miss, the -churchbells tell us. Big Ben, with his sweet tenor voice, booming out -the hours, is in this respect particularly thoughtful. - -[Illustration: 0025] - -So now, having explained myself, I come to my story of the little lady -who needed to be loved, but did not know it, and the wounded officer who -wanted rest. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -[Illustration: 9029] - -HE little lady who needed to be loved, but did not know it, discovered -me quite by accident. This story is a series of accidents; if it had -not been for the _ifs_ and the _perhaps's_ and the _possibilities_ there -wouldn't have been any story to tell. - -I was empty when she found me, for my late tenants had grown frightened -and had moved into the country on account of airraids. They said that I -was too near the giant searchlights and anti-aircraft guns of Hyde Park -Corner to be healthy. If they weren't killed by bombs, sooner or later -they would be struck by our own expended shell-cases that came toppling -from two miles out of the clouds. So they had made their exit hurriedly -in November, taking all their furniture and leaving me to spend my -one-hundred-and-ninety-eighth Christmas in the company of a caretaker. - -It was shortly before Christmas when I first saw her. Night had settled -peacefully down; it was about nine o'clock when the maroons and sirens -began to give warning that the enemy was approaching. In an instant, -like a lamp extinguished, the lights of London flickered and sank. Down -the forests of streets innumerable doors swiftly opened and people came -pattering out. Dragging half-clad children by the hand and carrying -babies snatched up from their warm beds, they commenced to run hither -and thither, seeking the faint red lights of shelters, where cellars and -overhead protection might be found. Policemen, mounted on bicycles, rode -up and down the thoroughfares, blowing whistles. Ambulances dashed by, -tooting horns and clanging bells. From far and near out of the swamp -of darkness rose a medley of panic and sound. Prodding the sky, like -detectives with lanterns, searchlights hunted and turned back the edges -of the clouds. Then ominously, with solemn anger, the guns opened up -and in fierce defiance the first bomb fell. The pattering of feet ceased -suddenly. Streets grew forlorn and empty. The commotion of living and -the terror of dying were transferred from the earth to the air. - -I was standing deserted with my door wide open, for at the first signs -of clamour the old woman, who was supposed to take care of me, had -hobbled up from her basement and out on to the pavement in search of the -nearest Tube Station. In her fear for her safety, she had forgotten to -close my door, so there I stood with the damp air drifting into my hall, -at the mercy of any chance vagrant. - -The guns had been booming for perhaps five minutes when I heard running -footsteps entering the square. Our square is so shut in and small that -it echoes like a church; every sound is startling and can be heard in -every part of it. I could not see to whom the footsteps belonged on -account of the trees and the darkness. They entered on the side farthest -from me, from the street where the red motor-buses pass. When they had -reached the top, from which there is no exit, they hesitated; then -came hurrying back along the side on which they would have to pass me. -_Tip-a-tap, tip-a-tap, tip-a-tap_ and panting breath--the sound of -a woman's high-heeled shoes against the pavement. Accompanying the -_tip-a-tap_ were funny, more frequent, shuffling noises, indistinct and -confused. Three shadows grew out of the gloom, a small one on either -side and a bigger one in the centre; as they drew near they resolved -themselves into a lady in an evening-wrap and two children. - -I was more glad than I cared to own, for I'd been feeling lonely. Now -that peace has come and we've won the war, I don't mind acknowledging -that I'd been feeling frightened; at the time I wouldn't have confessed -it for the world lest the Huns should have got to know it. We London -houses, trying to live up to the example of our soldiers, always -pretended that we liked the excitement of airraids. We didn't really; we -quaked in all our bricks and mortar. One's foundations aren't what -they were when one is a hundred-and-ninety-eight years old. So I'm not -ashamed to tell you that I was delighted when the lady and her children -came in my direction. I tried to push my front-door wider that they -might guess that they were welcome. I was terribly nervous that they -might pass in their haste without seeing that I was anxious to give them -shelter. It was shelter that they were looking for. In coming into the -square they had been seeking a shortcut home. - -They drew level without slackening their steps and had almost gone by -me when, less than a quarter of a mile away, a bomb crashed deafeningly. -Everything seemed to reel. Far and near you could hear the tinkling of -splintered glass. The world leapt up red for a handful of seconds as -though the door of a gigantic furnace had been flung open. Against -the glow you could see the crouching roofs of houses, the crooked -chimney-pots and the net-work of trees in the garden with their branches -stripped and bare. The lady clutched at my railings to steady herself. -Her face was white and her eyes were dark with terror. The last bomb had -been so very close that it seemed as though the next must fall in the -square itself. One of the searchlights had spotted the enemy and was -following his plane through the clouds, holding it in its glare. - -"Mummy, it's all right. Don't be frightened. You've got me to take care -of you." It was the little boy speaking. Then he saw my _To Let_ sign -above and pointed, "We'll go in here till it's over. Look, the door's -wide open." - -He tugged on her hand. With her arm about the shoulder of the little -girl on the other side of her, she followed. The glow died down -and faded. Soon the square was as secret and shadowy as it had been -before--a tank full of darkness in which nothing stirred. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -[Illustration: 9037] - -EVER since I had been built had any visit quite as unceremonious as this -occurred. Who was the strange lady? What was she doing wandering the -streets at this hour unescorted? She was beautiful and richly gowned; -her face was young, but very sad. I was anxious to learn more, so I -listened intently. - -At first on entering, they halted just across the threshold, huddled -together, the little lady with an arm flung about each of the children. -She seemed to think that someone might be hidden in the darkness -watching--someone to whom I belonged--for presently she addressed that -supposed someone tremblingly: "We hope you don't mind, but the car -forgot to come for us. Grandfather had been giving us a party. When we -heard the warning, we tried to run home before the raid started; but -we got lost. The Tube Stations were all so crowded that... And we found -your door open, so we hope you don't mind us entering." - -She paused nervously, waiting for someone to answer. A board creaked; -apart from that the silence was unbroken. - -Speaking to herself more than to the children, "It's quite empty," she -said at last. - -"Shall I close the door, Mumsie?" the little boy questioned. - -"No, Robbie darling," she whispered; "they might be angry, when they -come back. I mean the people who live here." - -"But it's dreadfully cold." - -"Then let's go farther in and find somewhere to sit down till the raid -is over." They stumbled their way in the darkness through the hall and -up the narrow staircase, where only one can walk abreast. Robbie went -first on this voyage of discovery; he felt that if anything were hiding -from them, his body would form a protection. His mother didn't want to -lose sight of the street by climbing higher, but he coaxed her on -from stair to stair. As pioneer of the expedition, he reached the tiny -landing with the single door, which gives entrance to the drawing-room -which occupies the whole of the second storey. Turning the handle he -peeped in warily. Then, "Cheer up, Mummy," he cried, "there's been a -fire and there's a wee bit of it still burning." - -The room was carpetless and bare of furniture, save for an old sofa with -sagging springs that had been pulled up across the hearth. Perched on -the bars of the grate sat a tin kettle, gasping feebly, with nearly all -its water boiled away. Under the kettle a few coals glowed faintly and -a weak flame jumped and sank, like a ghost trying to make up its mind to -vanish. Through the tall French windows that opened on to the verandah -one could see the sky lit up with the tumultuous display of monstrous -fireworks. From high overhead, above the clatter of destruction and the -banging of guns, came the long-drawn, contented humming of the planes. - -"They're right over us," the little boy whispered. - -As if afraid that any movement on their part would draw the enemy's -attention, they stood silent, clinging together, and listened. Oblongs -of light, falling through the windows, danced and shifted. Once the -beam of a searchlight groping through the shadows, gazed straight in -and dwelt on them astounded, as if to say, "Well, I never! Who'd have -thought to find you here?" - -They tiptoed over to the couch and sat down, making as little noise -as possible, for they still weren't sure that they were welcome. They -didn't speak or move for some time; with the excitement and running and -losing their way they were very tired. Presently the little boy got up, -and went and stood by the window looking out, with his legs astraddle -and his hands behind his back like a man. He wore a sailor-suit and had -bare, sturdy knees. He was very small to try to be so manly. - -[Illustration: 0041] - -"I'm not frightened, Mummy," he said. - -"If father were here, he wouldn't be frightened." - -She shifted her position so that she could glance proudly back at him. -"Father was never frightened." - -For the first time the little girl spoke. "If father were here, they -wouldn't dare to come to London. I expect they knew..." - -"Yes, Joan," her mother interrupted quickly, "I expect they knew." - -"And when I'm a man they won't dare to come to London, either," said -Robbie. "How many of them did father...?" - -But at that moment, before he could finish his question, his mother -pressed her finger against his lips warningly. Above the roar of what -was going on in the clouds, she had heard another and more alarming -sound; the front-door closed quietly, a match struck and then the slow -deliberate tread of someone groping up the stairs. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -[Illustration: 9047] - -HE tread reached the landing and proceeded to mount higher. Then it -hesitated. Another match was struck and it commenced to descend. On -arriving at the landing again, it halted uncertain. The handle of -the door was tried. The door swung open and a man peered across the -threshold. No one spoke. The little lady on the couch drew Joan closer -to her side and held her breath, hoping that the man might not observe -them and that, when he had gone, they might escape. But the man did not -go, he stood there on the alert, listening and searching the darkness. - -It was Robbie who spoke first. He had thrust his hands deep into his -knickerbockers' pockets to gain courage. "What do you want? We think you -might speak," he said. - -The man laughed pleasantly. "I'm sorry if I've frightened you. I didn't -know that anyone was here. I thought this was an empty house. Perhaps -you weren't aware of it, but you'd left your front-door open." Then, -because no one replied, he added, "It's all right now; it's closed." - -He wasn't looking at Robbie any longer. He was trying to probe the -shadows by the fireplace, where he had caught the rustle of a woman's -dress. He had caught something else--the faint sweet fragrance of -Jacqueminot. - -"I've alarmed you," he said. "I'm a stranger in London and I couldn't -find any way out of your square. I strayed into your house for shelter. -I'm sorry I intruded. Good-night to you all, however many there are of -you." - -He was actually going. It was impossible to see what he looked like, but -he was evidently well-mannered and a gentleman. Suddenly to the lady -in the lonely house, from being a creature of dread, he became a -heaven-sent protector. Who could tell how many less desirable visitors -might not call before the raid was ended? The care-taker might return. -Were that to happen, it would be much more comfortable to have this -male trespasser present to help make the explanations. Just as he was -withdrawing, the lady rose from the shabby couch and called him back. - -"Oh, please, we'd much rather you didn't go." - -"But who are we?" - -"I and Robbie and Joan. We did the same thing as you. The house doesn't -belong to us. We got caught, just as you did. We were terribly scared -and... and it's creepy being in an empty, strange house where you -haven't any right to be." - -Though she could only see the blur of him, she could feel the smile that -was in his eyes when she had finished her appeal. And it was an appeal, -eager and nervous and tremulous. The tears in her voice said much more -than the words. As he turned on his heel, she heard the jingle of his -spurs and guessed that he was a man in khaki. - -"I'm on my way to France," he said, speaking slowly; "I only landed -yesterday. I was lonely too; I didn't know a soul. A queer way to make a -friend!" - -As he stepped into the room, the light from the windows fell on him; he -was dressed in the uniform of an American officer. - -"Which are you?" he asked. "I've heard only your voice as yet. I'll do -anything I can to help." - -The little lady held out her hand, but her face was still in shadow. It -was a very tiny hand. "It's good of you to be willing to stay with us," -she said gratefully. - -At that point their conversation languished. The circumstances were so -unprecedented that they were at a loss what to say or how to act. It -was he who broke the awkward silence: "We ought to be able to rouse this -fire with a little effort." He bent over it, trying to pull it together. -"We need more coal. If you'll excuse me and won't be frightened while -I'm gone, I'll run down and see what I can forage." - -It seemed a long time that he was gone--so long that she had begun to be -afraid that he'd taken his chance to slip out. She wouldn't have blamed -him. In the last two years, since she'd been by herself, she'd become -used to men doing things like that. She had ceased to bank overmuch on -masculine chivalry. Few men had leisure to expend on a woman, however -charming and beautiful, whose children had always to be included in the -friendship. - -When she had made quite sure that he was no more chivalrous than other -men, she heard him laboriously returning. He came in carrying a scuttle -in one hand and some bundles of wood in the other. "And now we'll pull -down the blinds," he said, "and make a blaze and get her going." - -On his knees before the hearth he started to work, ramming paper between -the bars, piling sticks criss-cross and using his cheeks as bellows. In -the intervals between his exertions he chatted, "I'm no great shakes -at house-work. You mustn't watch me too closely or laugh at me. I'll do -better than this when I've been at the Front, I guess. Are these your -kiddies?... I suppose your husband's over there, where I'm going?" - -"He was." - -"Oh, so you've got him back! You're lucky. Is he wounded or has he got a -staff job in England?" - -"He'll never come back." - -He paused in what he was doing and sat gazing into the flames which were -licking at the wood. He hung his head. He ought to have thought of that; -in the last few years so many Englishmen were dead. And then there came -another reflection--the picture of what it must have cost her husband to -say good-bye to his wife and children, and go marching away to anonymous -glory. He wasn't married himself, but if he had been... It took enough -bolstering up of one's courage to go when one was single; but to go when -one was married... And yet selfishly, ever since he had put on khaki his -paramount regret had been that, were he to peg out, he would leave no -one to carry on in his stead. This air-raid was his first remote taste -of warfare; within the next few weeks he was to know it in its full -fury. What had impressed him most was the difference between war as -imagined and witnessed. As imagined it had seemed the most immense of -sports; as witnessed it was merely murder. Just before he had -sought shelter he had seen where a bomb had fallen. People had been -killed--people not so different from the mother and children hiding in -this house. The suddenness of extinction had made him feel that in the -game of life he had somehow "missed out." There would be no woman to -think of him as "her man" were he to go west. And here was the woman's -price for such caring, "He'll never come back." - -He turned his head slowly; by the light of the crackling wood for the -first time he saw her. The little boy was lying wearied out, with -his head bowed in her lap. The little girl sat drowsing against her -shoulder. - -She herself was leaning forward, gazing at and beyond him with a -curious air of resigned intensity. She seemed to him to be listening -for someone, whom she knew in her heart was never coming. He noticed the -white half-moon of her shoulders faintly showing beneath her chinchilla -wrap. He noticed her string of perfect pearls, the single ring on -her hand and the expensive simplicity of her velvet gown. He was -sufficiently a man of the world to make a guess at her social station. -But it wasn't her beauty or elegance that struck him, though they were -strangely in contrast to the empty room in which she sat; it was her -gentleness and expression of patient courage. He knew, as surely as if -she had told him, that this empty room, in which he had found her, was -the symbol of her days. It was with her as it was with himself; there -was no man to whom she was "his woman." - -"I've hurt you by the impertinence of my questions." - -She smiled and shook her head. "You've not hurt me. Don't think that. -I shouldn't like you to think that you'd hurt me or anything that would -make you sad. Are you going to France soon?" - -"Tomorrow." - -"Then you won't be here for Christmas. I wonder where you'll spend it. -Perhaps next Christmas the war will be ended and you'll..." She caught -the instant change in his expression. She had seen that look too often -in soldiers' eyes when the future was mentioned not to know what it -meant. She laid her hand on his arm impulsively. "But everyone who goes -doesn't stay there. You'll be one of the lucky ones. You'll come back. -I have that feeling about you. I know what's in your mind; you're a long -way from home, you're going to face a great danger and you believe that -everything is ended. You can only think of war now, but there are so -many better things to do with life than fighting. All the better things -will be here to welcome you, when you return." - -He found himself talking to her in a way in which he had never spoken to -any woman. Afterwards, when he recalled their conversation, he wondered -why. Was it because she had filled him with so complete a sense of rest? -One didn't have to explain things to her; she understood. He asked her -how it was that she understood and she replied, "You don't have to go -to war to learn how to endure. You can stay at home and yet beat off -attacks in the front-line trench. We women defeat despair by keeping on -smiling when there's nothing left to smile about, and by wearing pretty -dresses when there's no one to take a pride in what we wear." - -He retorted unguardedly, as he felt. "But there must be heaps of people -who take a pride in you." - -"You think so? You're unspoilt and generous. Life's a wonderful dream -that lies all before you. You haven't known sorrow. Do you know what you -seemed to be saying when you spoke to me through the shadows? 'Everybody -has always loved and trusted me, so you love and trust me, too.' If it -hadn't been for that, that I saw that you'd always been loved and were -lonely for the moment, I shouldn't have sat here talking with you for -the last hour. You'll get everything you want from life, if you'll only -wait for it. You'll come back." - -While he sat at her feet in the firelight, she had the knack of making -him feel like a little boy who was being comforted. She kept aloof from -him, but she mothered him with words. He found himself glancing up at -her furtively to make sure that she wasn't as old as she pretended. She -wasn't old at all--not a single day older than himself. He turned over -in his mind what she had said about having no one to be proud of her. He -would have given a lot for the chance to be proud of her himself. But he -was going to France tomorrow--there was no time left for that. With -so much fighting and dying to be done, it seemed as though there would -never again be time for anything that was personal. - -The clamour in the skies had died down. - -The crash of guns had been growing infrequent; now it had subsided. -The drone of planes could be no more heard. The invader had been driven -back; hard on his heels our aerial cavalry were following across the -Channel, awaiting their moment to exact revenge when he tried to land. - -[Illustration: 0059] - -The restored normality seemed to rouse her reserve. Lifting the sleeping -head from her lap, she whispered, "Wake up, Robbie; we can go home now. -It's all over." - -The officer had risen and stood leaning against the mantel, "So it's -good-bye?" - -"I'm afraid so." - -"You've made me happy when I least expected to be happy. Shall we meet -again, I wonder?" - -She smiled at his seriousness. "Perhaps. One never knows what the good -God will allow. We didn't expect to meet tonight." - -He was sensitive to her evasion and laughed, pretending to make light -of it. "We don't want them to think they've had burglars. We had better -leave something for the coals we've burned." He placed a pound note on -the mantel. - -Taking Joan in his arms and going first, he led the way down the stairs. -When they were out of the hall and the front-door had closed behind -them, he left the little group on the steps and went in search of a -taxi. After a lengthy expedition he found one and, by promising an -excessive fare, induced the driver to accompany him back. He knew -neither the name of the square nor the number of the house, so he had -to keep his head out of the window and shout directions. On entering the -square he searched the pavement ahead, but could catch no sign of his -recent companions. He halted the cab against the curb at the point where -he thought he had left them; he was made certain that it was the point -when he saw the notice TO LET. Perhaps the caretaker had come back and -invited them to enter till he returned. He rang the bell and knocked -vigorously. The driver was eyeing him with suspicion. When his repeated -knockings were unanswered, he got into the taxi and ordered him to move -slowly round the square. - -She had completely vanished. Either she had picked up a conveyance for -herself, while he had been engaged in his search, or else she had lost -faith in him and had taken it for granted that he had deserted her. He -did not know her name. She had given him no address. Tomorrow night -he would be in France. He had neither the time nor the necessary -information to hunt for her. - -In reply to the driver's request for further instructions, he growled -the name of his hotel. Then he spread himself out on the cushions and -gave way to disconsolate reflections. The night was full of smoke and -heavy with the smell of a bonfire burnt out. Things had become again -uninteresting. He told himself that the most wonderful hour of his life -was ended. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -[Illustration: 9065] - -HRISTMAS came and went unmerrily. The old woman who took care of me had -known better days; she stayed in bed in an effort to forget. Next door, -but one, a son had returned unexpectedly from the trenches. There were -laughing, dancing and piano playing. I tried to share their happiness; -but happiness isn't the same when it is borrowed second-hand. My rooms -were cheerless and empty of all sound. - -I kept thinking of my air-raid visitors, wondering where they were and -hoping that the American officer had re-found the little lady. If -he had, I felt sure he would be good to her. I told myself a foolish -fairy-story, as old houses will, of how, when the war was ended, they -would drive up to my door together, as if by accident, and exclaim, -"Why, it's the little house where we first met!" Then the TO LET sign -would be taken down and, having fetched Joan and Robbie, we would all -live together forever. With luck and love we might have smaller feet to -toddle up and down my stairs. - -January, February, March commenced and ended, and the TO LET sign was -still there. It seemed that nobody would ever want me. It was April now; -to their nests in the railed-in garden of the square the last year's -birds were coming back. Trees had become a mist of greenness. Tulips and -daffodils were shining above the ground. In the window-boxes of other -houses geraniums were making a scarlet flare. Without warning the dream, -which had been no more than a dream, began to become a fact. - -I had been drowsing in the sun, taking no notice of what was happening, -when I was suddenly awakened by a sharp rat-a-tat-tat. I came to myself -with a start to find that the little lady, unaccompanied, was standing -on my steps. - -She knocked again and then a third time. There could be no doubt about -her determination to enter. At last the old woman heard her and dragged -herself complainingly up from the basement. When the door had been -narrowly opened, the little lady pushed it wider and stepped smartly -into the hall with an exceedingly business-like air. "I have an order -from the agents to view the house." - -"I'm 'ard of 'earing. Wot did yer say? Speak louder." - -"I have an order from the agents to look over the house." - -"Let's see your order?" - -While the caretaker fumbled for her spectacles, she went on talking. -"You won't like it. There's no real sense in your seeing it. It ain't -much of a 'ouse--not modern, too little and all stairs." - -It made me furious to hear her running me down and to have no chance to -defend myself. - -"Nevertheless, I rather like it and I think I'll see it," the little -lady said. - -She went from room to room, making notes of the accommodations and -thinking aloud as she set them down. "Four floors beside the basement. -On the top floor two bedrooms; they'll do for Robbie and Joan and nurse. -On the next floor one bedroom and a bathroom; I'll have that for myself. -On the second floor one big room, running from front to back; that's -where we'II have the parrot and the piano, and where I'll do my sewing. -On the ground-floor a dining-room in front and a bedroom at the back; -the bedroom at the back will do for cook. I won't have anyone sleeping -below-stairs. It's a very wee house, but tremendously cosy. And what -pretty views--the garden in the square in front, and the old grey church -with its graveyard at the back! It's all so green and quiet, like being -in the country." - -[Illustration: 0069] - -She had far out-distanced the caretaker, hurrying over the first two -floors that she might get to the top by herself. Now, as she descended, -she inspected each room more leisurely. As yet she had said no word that -would indicate that she had recognised me. I wondered what her motive -had been in coming; whether she had deliberately sought me or stumbled -on me simply by accident. I would have known her anywhere, though I had -been blind and deaf, by the fragrance of Jacqueminot that clung about -her. - -She had come to the tiny landing on the second floor, when something -familiar in her surroundings struck her. She stood there holding -the handle of the door and wrinkling her forehead. "It's odd," she -whispered; "I can't understand it." She turned the handle and entered. -The room smelt stuffy; its windows had not been opened since she was -last there. The sunlight, pouring in, revealed motes of dust which rose -up dancing every time she stirred. In the grate were the accumulated -ashes of many fires. Drawn across the hearth was the shabby couch. -Nothing had been altered since she had left it. She passed her hand -across her eyes, "It can't be; it would be too strange to find it like -that." Then she started to reconstruct the scene as she remembered it. -"Robbie was there against the window, asking how many Huns his daddy had -brought down, and I was sitting here in the shadow, when quite suddenly -we heard his tread on the stairs. The door opened; he said something -about being sorry that he'd frightened us, and then.... Why yes, I'm -positive." She stepped out onto the verandah and stood looking down into -the square. When she turned to re-enter her eyes were moist and shining. -"You _are_ the little house. Oh, little house, I've dreamt of you so -often. Does he dream of you too, where he is out there? Was I right to -run away and to doubt him? If you had a tongue you could tell me; did he -say hard things about me when he found me gone on coming back?" - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -[Illustration: 9075] - -WO weeks later they took possession of me. They did it with so much -friendliness that at the end of a month it was as though we had always -lived together. Even the furniture fitted into all my odd nooks and -angles as if it had been made especially for me. And, indeed, it might -have been, for most of it was created in the reign of Queen Anne, at -which period my walls were, as one might say, feeling their legs. It was -very pleasant when night had settled down and everyone was sleeping, to -listen to the conversations which were carried on between the new-comers -and my own floors and stairs. One grandfather's clock was particularly -interesting in his reminiscences. He had told the time to Dr. Johnson -and had ticked away the great lexicographer's last hours. On this -account he was inclined to be amusingly self-important; it was a -permanent source of grievance with him that, so far as the present -generation was concerned, his pedigree was unknown. There were times -when he would work himself into such passions that his weights would -drop with a bang. He was always sorry for it next morning and ashamed -to face the little lady. As she came down to breakfast, she would catch -sight of his hands and say, "So the poor old clock has stopped again! -The old fellow's worn out. We shall have to send him to the mender's." - -Perhaps it is hardly fair to repeat this gossip about one piece of the -furniture, for everything, myself included, was old; whether we were -tables, chairs or stair-cases, we all had our crochets and oddities. -But, however much we differed among ourselves, we were united in adoring -the youth of the little lady and her children. More than any of us the -whispering parrot adored her. - -The whispering parrot was a traveller. He had come from Australia fifty -years ago. - -He played so indispensable a part in producing the happy ending that he -deserves an introduction. - -He had been the gift of the children's grandfather, a retired General. -His plumage was Quaker grey, all except his breast and crest which were -a wonderful rose-pink. He had black beady eyes which took in everything; -what they saw, he invariably remembered. He had a confidential, hoarse -way of speaking, that never rose above a whisper. When you heard him -for the first time you supposed that he had a bad sore throat. He had -a favorite question which he asked whenever he thought he was not being -paid sufficient attention, "What shall we talk about?" He would ask it -with his head cocked on one side, while he rubbed his feathers up and -down the bars. "What shall we talk about?" he would ask the little lady -as she sat sewing beneath the lamp of an evening. She was always by -herself when the children had been put to bed. She had no callers and -never went anywhere. - -"Talk about Polly!" she would say. "I don't know, you good grey bird. -Did you think I was lonely? Well, let's see! Who loves Mummy best? Can -you answer me that?" - -Then he would cock his head still farther on one side and pretend to -think furiously. She would have to ask him several times before he would -attempt an answer. Usually, when he got ready, he would clear his throat -and whisper, "The dustman." After which he would laugh as though his -sides were aching: "What a naughty Polly! What a naughty Polly!" - -She would maintain a dignified silence till she had emptied her -needle. Then she would glance at him reproachfully, "Think again, Mr. -Impudence--not the dustman." - -So he would think again, and having clambered all over his cage and hung -upside down to amuse her, would hazard, "Polly?" - -"Not Polly." - -Then he would make any number of suggestions, though he knew quite well -the answer she required. After each wrong guess he would go off -into gales of ghostly merriment. At last he would say very solemnly, -"Robbie." - -"Yes, Robbie," she would reply and scratch his head; after which the -game was ended. Soon she would fold away her work, put out the lights -and climb the narrow stairs to her quiet bed. - -It seemed very sad that, when she was so young, she should have to spend -so many hours in talking to a rascally old bird. One can be young for so -short a time. How short, those who are old know best. - -There were evenings, however, when, after the parrot had answered -"Robbie," she would whisper, "I wonder!" and clasp her hands in her lap, -gazing straight before her. On these evenings she would sit very late -and would look down at her feet from time to time, as though expecting -to see someone crouching there. Taxis would chug their way into the -square and draw up at one or other of the dolls' houses. The taxi door -would open and after a few seconds close with a bang. There would be the -rustle of a woman's dress and the tripping of her slippered feet across -the pavement; the bass muttering of her husband paying the driver; -laughter; the rattling of a key in the latch; and silence. The little -lady would sit quite motionless, listening to the secret homecomings -of lovers. Then at last she would nod her head, "You're right, Polly, I -expect. There's no one else. No doubt it's Robbie who loves me best." - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -[Illustration: 9083] - -UT it wasn't Robbie. The diningroom window was the first to make the -discovery. Being on the ground-floor, it gazes across the pavement under -the trees and sees many things after nightfall which are missed by the -upper storeys. The first and second time that something unusual happened -I was not told; not until the third time was I taken into the secret. -The dining-room window does most of the watching for the entire house; -it sees so much that it has learnt to be discreet. - -It was Armistice night when the unusual happening first occurred. London -had gone mad with relief from suspense. Wherever a barrel-organ could be -found people were dancing. Where more suitable music was not available, -tin-cans were being beaten with a dervish, rhythmic monotony. Dance the -people must. Their joy had gone into their feet; they could not convince -themselves that peace had come till they had danced themselves to a -standstill. They invented impromptu steps, dancing twenty abreast in the -open spaces, humming any tune that caught their fancy, with their arms -linked in those of strangers. But there were no strangers that night; -everyone was a friend. Top-hats, evening-dress, corduroys and privates' -uniforms hobnobbed together. A mighty roar of laughter and singing went -up from thousands of miles of streets, dim-lit and dusk-drenched to -ward off the ancient peril from the air. How suddenly unmodern peril -had become! All London laughed; all England; all the world. The sound -reached the Arctic; polar bears lumbered farther northward, stampeded by -the strum of our guffaws. If there were inhabitants on Mars, they must -have heard. The war was won. The news was so incredible that we had to -make a noise to silence our doubts. - -Everything that could rejoice was out under the stars making merry. -We had hidden so long, walked so stealthily, wept so quietly, hated so -violently that our right to be happy was almost too terrible to bear. -We expressed our joy foolishly, hysterically, inadequately by shouting, -embracing, climbing lamp-posts, riding on the roofs of taxis. What did -it matter so long as we expressed it and brought the amazing truth home -to ourselves? The last cannon had roared. The final man had died in -battle. The wicked waste of white human bodies was ended. There would be -no more rushing for the morning papers and searching the casualty lists -with dread; no more rumours of invasions; no more musterings for new -offensives. The men whom we loved were safe; they had been reprieved at -the eleventh hour. We should have them home presently, seated by their -firesides. It seemed like the fulfilment of a prophet's ecstasy; as -though sorrow and crying had passed away and forever there would be no -death. - -There were two people who did not dance, climb lamp-posts, beat tin-cans -and ride on the roofs of taxis that night. Perhaps they were the only -two in London; they were both in Dolls' House Square. The little lady -was one. She had tucked Joan and Robbie safely in their beds. She had -kissed them "Good-night" and turned the gas on the landing to a jet. She -had gone part way down the narrow stairs and then... and then she had -come back. She had picked up Joan and carried her into Robbie's room. -When the two heads were lying close together on the pillow, she had -seated herself in the darkness beside them. - -The little boy stretched up his arms to pull her down; she resisted. His -hands wandered over her face and reached her eyes. They were wet. His -heart missed a beat. He knew what that meant. So often in the dark, dark -night he had wakened with the sure sense that she was crying and had -tiptoed down the creaking stairs to creep in beside her and place his -small arms tightly about her. - -"Never mind; you have me, Mummy." That was what he always said. He -whispered it now. - -"Yes, I have my wee man." - -"And me, Mummy," Joan murmured sleepily. - -"Mummy knows. She has you both. Don't worry about her. She's feeling -silly tonight." - -"Because you're happy?" Joan questioned. - -"Yes, happy for so many little boys and girls whose soldier daddies will -be coming back to them soon. Don't talk any more. Go sleepy-bye." - -But Robbie knew that it wasn't happiness that made her cry; he knew that -she was crying because she had no soldier to come back. What could he -say to comfort her? His eyes grew drowsy while he thought about it. He -waited till Joan was in Sleepy-bye Land, then with an effort he opened -his eyes. - -"Mummy, do you know what I'd like best for Christmas?" - -"I thought you were sleeping. Don't tell me now. There's heaps of time. -It's six weeks till Christmas." - -"But Joan and I have talked about it," he persisted. "We don't want him, -if you don't want him." - -"What is he, dear? If he doesn't cost too much, you shall have him." - -Robbie procrastinated now that he had brought his mother to the point -of listening. It was a delicate proposal that he was about to make. "I -don't know whether you can get one," he hesitated. "A boy at my school -got one without asking, and it wasn't even Christmas." - -He was sitting up in bed now, very intense and serious, and very much -awake. - -"But you've not told me yet what it is you want. If you don't tell me, I -can't say whether I can afford it." - -She slipped her arm about the square little body and feeling how it -trembled, held it close against her breast. He hid his face in the -hollow of her neck. "Robbie's place," she whispered. "If it's difficult -to say, whisper it to mother there." - -His lips moved several times before a sound came and then, "If it isn't -too much trouble, we should like to have a Daddy." - -Against his will she held him back from her, trying to see his eyes. -"But why?" - -It was he who was crying now. "Oh Mummy, I didn't mean to hurt you.... -To be like all the other little boys and girls." When at last he was -truly asleep and she had come down to the lamp-lit room in which she -sewed, she did not take up her work. The parrot tried to draw her into -conversation with his eternal question, "What shall we talk about?" - -"Nothing tonight, Polly," she said. Presently she crossed the room and, -pulling back the curtains, stood staring out into the blackness. So her -children had felt it, too--the weight of loneliness! She had tried so -hard to prevent them from sharing it; had striven in so many ways to -be their companion. Try as she would, she could never make up for a -father's absence. She could never give them the sense of security that a -man could have given without effort, even though he had loved them less. -It was a bitter realisation--one which vaguely she had always dreaded -must come to her. It was doubly bitter coming to her now, on a night -when all the world was glad. She might be many things to her children; -she could never be a man.... What did Robbie think? That you bought -a father from an agency or engaged him through an advertisement? She -smiled sadly, "Not so easy as that." - -"What shall we talk about?" asked the parrot. - -She drew the curtains together, extinguished the lights and groped her -way up to bed. - -But her eyes had not peered far enough into the blackness. There was -another person in London who had not danced or climbed lamp-posts or -ridden on the roofs of taxis that night. For three hours he had watched -the little house from the shadow of the trees across the road. From the -pavement, had you been passing, you would hardly have distinguished him -as he leant against the garden-railings. The only time he gave a sign -of his presence was when the red flare of his cigarette betrayed him. He -did not seem to be planning harm to anyone; he could not have done much -harm in any case, for the left sleeve of his coat hung empty. He was -simply waiting for something that he hoped might happen. At last his -patience was rewarded when she drew aside the curtain and stood with the -lighted room behind her, staring out into the blackness. Only when she -had again hidden herself and all the house was in darkness, did he turn -to go. He was there the next night and the next. It was after his third -night of watching that the dining-room window told me. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -[Illustration: 9095] - -HE fourth night he was there again. By this time everything in the -house, from the kettle in the kitchen to the carpet on the topmost -landing, was aware that a one-armed man was hidden beneath the trees -across the road, watching. The whole house was on the alert, listening -and waiting--everybody, that is to say, except the people most -concerned, who inhabited us. It seemed strange that they alone should be -in ignorance. The grandfather clock did his best to tell them. "Beware; -take care. Beware; take care," he ticked as his pendulum swung to and -fro. They stared him in the face and read the time by his hands, but -they had no idea what he was saying. - -What could it be that the watching man wanted? Whatever it was, he -wanted it badly, for it was by no means pleasant to stand motionless for -several hours when the November chill was in the air. Nor did he seem -to find it pleasant, for every now and then he coughed and shook himself -like a dog inside his coat, and sunk his chin deeper into his collar. - -He had been there since six o'clock. He had seen the cook and the -housemaid come up the area-steps and meet their respective sweethearts -under the arc-light at the end of the square. There was only one other -grown person in the house beside the little lady--Nurse; and Nurse had -been in bed since the afternoon with a sick headache. He could not have -known that. It was at precisely eight that he consulted his luminous -wrist-watch, crossed the road, hesitated and raised the knocker very -determinedly, as if he had only just arrived and had not much time to -spare. _Rat-tat-tat!_ The sound echoed alarmingly through the silence. -The little lady dropped her sewing in her lap and listened. The sound -was repeated. _Rat-tat-tat!_ It seemed to say, "Come along. Don't keep -me waiting. You've got to let me in sooner or later. You know that." - -"It can't be the postman at this hour," she murmured, "and yet it sounds -like his knock." - -Laying her work on the table beneath the lamp, she rose from her chair -and descended. She opened the door only a little way at first, just wide -enough for her to peer out, so that she could close it again if she saw -anything disturbing. - -"So you do live here!" The man outside spoke gladly. "I guessed it could -be no one else the moment I saw that the house was no longer empty." - -She opened the door a few more inches. His tone puzzled her by its -familiarity. His face had not yet come into the ray of light which -slanted from the hall across the steps. - -"You don't recognise me?" he questioned. "I called to let you know that -I did fetch that taxi. It's been on my mind that you thought I deserted -you. Taxi-cabs were hard to find in an air-raid." - -She flung the door wide. "Why it's----" - -She didn't know how to call him--how to put what he was into words. He -had been simply "the American officer"--that was how she had named him -in talking with the children. He had been often remembered, especially -during the fireside hour when in imaginary adventures he had been the -hero of many stories. How brave she had made him and how often she had -feared that he was dead! There were other stories which she had told -only to herself, when the children were asleep and the house was silent. -And there he stood on the threshold, with the same gallant bearing and -the same eager smile playing about his mouth. "I've always been loved -and trusted; you love and trust me, too"--that was what his smile was -saying to her. - -Her heart was beating wildly; but nothing of what she felt expressed -itself in what she said. "I'm by myself. I've let the maids go out. I'm -terribly apologetic for having treated you so suspiciously." - -He laughed and stepped into the hall. "I seem fated to find you by -yourself; you were alone last time. I'm in hospital and have to be back -by ten. Won't you let me sit with you for half an hour?" - -He had begun to remove his top-coat awkwardly. His awkwardness attracted -her attention. - -"Please let me do that for you." - -"Oh, I'm learning to manage. It's all right.... Well, if you must. -Thanks." She didn't dare trust herself. There was a pricking sensation -behind her eyes. She motioned to him to go first. As she followed him -up the stairs, she gazed fixedly at his flattened left side, where the -sleeve was tucked limply into the tunic-pocket. She knew that when she -was again face to face with him she must pretend not to have noticed. - -He entered the room and stood staring round. "The same old room! But it -didn't belong to you then. How did you manage it?" - -"Easily, but not on purpose." - -"Truly, not on purpose?" His tone was disappointed. - -"No, not on purpose. I didn't know the name of the square or the number -of the house that night. I stumbled on it months later by accident. It -was still to let." - -"So you took it? Why did you take it?" - -"Because I'd liked it from the first and it suited me," she smiled. "Why -else?" - -"I thought perhaps..." - -"Well, say it. You're just like Robbie. When Robbie wants to tell me -something that's difficult, he has a special place against which he -hides his face; it's easier to tell me there. You men are all such -little boys. If it's difficult to tell, you do the same and say it -without looking at me." - -She reseated herself beneath the lamp and took up her sewing. "Now tell -me, why did you want me to say that I took it on purpose?" - -"I don't quite know. Perhaps it was because, had I been you, I should -have taken it on purpose. One likes to live in places where he has been -happy, even though the happiness lasted only for an hour." - -He wandered over to the couch before the fire and sat down where he -could watch her profile and the slope of her throat beneath the lamp. -The only sound was the prick of the needle and the quiet pulling through -of the thread. It had all happened just as he would have planned it. He -was glad that she was alone. He was glad that it was in this same room -that they had met. He was glad in a curious unreasoning way for the -faint fragrance of Jacqueminot that surrounded her. It had been just -like this at the Front that he had thought of her--thought of her so -intensely that he had almost caught the scent and the rustle of her -dress, moving towards him through the squalor of the trench. Through all -the horror the brief memory of her gentleness had remained with him. And -what hopes he had built on that memory! He had told himself that, if he -survived, by hook or by crook he would search her out. In hospital, when -he had returned to England, all his impatience to get well had been to -get to her. In his heart he had never expected success. The task had -seemed too stupendous. And now here he was, sitting with her alone, the -house all quiet, the fire shining, the lamp making a pool of gold among -the shadows, and she, most quiet of all, taking him comfortably for -granted and carrying on with her woman's work. At last he was at rest; -not in love with her, he told himself, but at rest. - -It was she who broke the silence. "How did you know? What made you come -so directly to this house?" - -He met her eyes and smiled. "Where else was there to come? It was the -one place we both knew. I took a chance at it." And then, after a -pause, "No, that's not quite true. I was sent up to London for special -treatment. The first evening I was allowed out of hospital, I hurried -here and, finding that our empty house was occupied, stayed outside to -watch it." - -"But why to watch it?" - -"Because it was a million to one that you weren't the tenant. Before I -rang the bell I wanted to make certain. You see I don't know your name; -I couldn't ask to see the lady of the house. If she hadn't been you, how -could I have explained my intrusion?" - -"And then you made certain?" - -He nodded. "You came to the window on Armistice night and stood for a -few minutes looking out." - -"I remember." She shivered as if a cold breath had struck her. "I was -feeling stupid and lonely; all the world out there in the darkness -seemed so glad. I wish you had rung my bell. That was three nights ago." - -"You mean why did I let three nights go by. I guess because I was a -coward. I got what we call in America 'cold feet.' I thought..." - -He waited for her to prompt him. She sat leaning forward, her hands -lying idle in her lap. He noticed, as he had noticed nearly a year -ago, the half-moon that her shoulders made in the dimness. She was -extraordinarily motionless; her motionlessness gave her an atmosphere -of strength. When she moved her gestures said as much as words. Nothing -that she did was hurried. - -"Tell me what you thought." she said quietly. She spoke to him as she -would have spoken to Robbie, making him feel very young and little. When -she spoke like that there was not much that he would not have told her. - -"I thought that you might not remember me or want to see me. We met so -oddly; after the lapse of a year you might easily have regarded my call -as an impertinence." - -"An impertinence!" There were tears in her eyes when she raised her -head. "You lost your arm that I and my children might be safe, and you -talk about impertinence." - -"Oh, that!" He glanced down at his empty sleeve. "That's nothing. It's -the luck of the game and might have happened to anybody." - -"But you lost it for me," she re-asserted, "that I might be safe. You -must have suffered terribly." - -Seeing her distress, he laughed gaily. "Losing an arm wasn't the worst -that might have happened. I'm one of the fortunate ones; I'm still above -ground. The thing wasn't very painful--nothing is when you've simply got -to face it. It's the thinking about pain that hurts.... Hulloa, look -at the time; I can just get back to the hospital by ten. If we're late, -they punish us by keeping us in next night." - -At the top of the stairs as she was seeing him out, he halted and looked -back into the room. "It's quiet and cosy in there. I don't want -to leave; I feel like a boy being packed off to school. You can't -understand how wonderful it is after all the marching and rough times -and being cut about to be allowed to sit by a fire with a woman. I loved -to watch you at your sewing." - -"It's because you're tired," she said, "more tired than you know. You -must come very often and rest." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -[Illustration: 9109] - -N the weeks that followed the little house came to know him well. -Everybody in the little house treated him as though his injury were a -decoration, which had been won especially in their defence. They were -prouder to see him come walking up their steps with his blue hospital -band on his remaining arm, than if Sir Douglas Haig himself had called -upon them. Nobody took any count of the frequency of his visits--nobody -except himself. Nobody seemed to think it strange that the moment the -doctors had finished his dressings, he should wander off to Dolls' House -Square. Nobody seemed to guess just how fond he was of the little lady. -He hardly guessed himself. There were times when he wondered exactly -how fond he was. He did not believe he was in love with her; the feeling -that he had was too gentle. He had always understood that love was -exciting, passionate and tumultuous with dreads, whereas in her presence -he knew neither fears nor hesitancies. He wasn't the least in terror -that he would lose her. He felt simply safe, the way a ship might feel -when the winds had ceased to buffet and it lay still in a sheltered -harbour on a level keel. This feeling of safety struck him as an -extraordinary sensation to be produced in a soldier by a woman; he was a -trifle ashamed of it, as though it were not quite manly. - -While he spoke with her, he found himself believing with a child-like -faith that all women were mothers and that the world was good. He knew -that for the present he could not do without her, but he was at a -loss to imagine what he would do with her for always. She was like -religion--she went beyond him, was bigger and better. He only dimly -understood her, but was comfortable in believing that everything -hidden was as kind as the part he knew. In a strangely intimate way -he worshipped her, as a child adores his mother, thinking her the most -perfect and beautiful being in the world. He discovered in her a wisdom -of which nothing in her conversation gave the least indication; her -unhurried attitude towards life created the impression. If this were -love, then all the hearsay information he had gathered on the subject -was mistaken. - -There were days when, after his wound had been dressed and he had left -the hospital, he made a pretence that he was not going to visit her. He -told himself that he was making her a habit, and that to make a habit -of anyone was foolish. Instead of going to Dolls' House Square, he -would invent some urgent business and take himself off citywards. But -expeditions in which she had no share soon grew flat. He would find -himself thinking about her, wondering whether she was waiting for -him. He would end up, as he always ended up, by jumping in a taxi and -knocking on her door in Dolls' House Square. - -He never once found her out. There was invariably a welcome for him. He -would take his seat by the fire in the quiet room and watch her sewing -till the darkness deepened and the lamp had to be brought out. It didn't -seem to matter much whether he talked or was silent; her contentment -seemed complete when he was there. She made no effort to entertain him, -which was the best proof of their friendship. She was perfectly willing -that he should ignore her, if that was his mood, by reading the paper or -playing with the children. - -Though she made no effort to entertain him, the entire household had -re-organised itself in readiness for his sharp _rat-a-tat_. Everyone, -without expressing the fact, recognised that it was nice to have a man -about the house. When one rose in the morning, there was something to -which to look forward now. A man dropping in, even occasionally, gave -this group of women a sense of protection and of contact with the -unwidowed world. - -To Robbie and Joan he stood for something midway between a big -brother and a pal. They had sharp rivalries as to who should light his -cigarette. It wasn't easy for him to grip the box between his knees -and strike the match with only one hand. They watched him and by -anticipating his wishes tried to constitute themselves his missing hand. - -When they were with him, the little lady withdrew into the background, -making herself so still and self-effacing that it scarcely seemed that -he had come to see her. It was as though she had three children; he -appeared to be their friend much more than hers. He would carry them -off to the Zoo, to matinees or to see the Christmas toys in the West End -shops. Sometimes she would accompany them; more often she would listen -to their adventures when they had returned. But she never was really -left out. While they were absent from her, she formed the main topic of -conversation. Of this she was well aware; if she had not been, she would -not have been so happy. - -In a way she derived more pleasure from staying at home and picturing -them laughing through the crowded streets, going into tea-shops, riding -in taxis and coming back through the dusk together. The children looked -so proud in their sole possession of a man, especially of a soldier who -had been wounded. Had their father come through the war, that was how -they would have looked in his company. She was glad that they should get -away from skirts. He could give them something which it was not in her -power to give, however much she loved them. She was only a woman. Her -reward followed when they returned a little conscience-stricken at -having left her, bringing with them a present as indisputable proof that -she had been remembered. - -One evening in talking with her after the children had been put to bed, -he asked her if she didn't think she ought to go out more often. - -"I know I ought." - -"Then why don't you?" - -She smiled gently, thinking how little he knew of the world. "When -you've not got your own man to take you, it's difficult. The world moves -in pairs. A woman can't go to many places unaccompanied." - -"But surely you don't need to. You must have quantities of friends who -would be glad..." - -She cut him short. "When a woman is left by herself, she learns a good -many things about men that she didn't suspect when she was married. The -men she would trust herself with have their wives or fiancées--they have -no time to trouble over shipwrecked women like myself. And the other -kind of men... The world has no place for a widow. It doesn't mean to be -unkind, but it simply doesn't know what to do with her. Unmarried women -consider her an unfair rival; they think she's seeking a second chance -before they've had their first. In the old days India solved the problem -by burying us with our husbands. In England they do the same thing, only -less frankly. It's rather stupid to have to live and yet to be treated -as though you ought to be dead. One fights against it at first; then one -gradually becomes reconciled to be out of the running. If one's wise, -she puts all her living into her children." - -"But that's not fair," he spoke hotly. - -"It's the way it happens." - -He sat frowning into the fire. What she had told him had upset all his -preconceptions about her. Without looking at her, he re-started the -conversation. "I've thought of you as being so happy. I always thought -of you that way at the Front. I've pictured you as being perched high on -a ledge out of reach of waves and storms. From the first you've given me -the feeling that nothing could hurt or move you, and that nothing could -hurt or move me while I was near you. It's a queer thing for a man to -admit to a woman, but you make me feel absolutely safe." - -"That's not so very queer," she said, "because that's the way you make -me feel." - -"Do I? You're not laughing at me?" He swung round, leaning over the back -of the couch, his entire attitude one of amazement. - -She met his surprise with a quiet smile. "I'm perfectly serious. But -you know the reason why we feel so safe in each other's company? It's -because, in our different ways, we're both lonely people. We're not like -the rest of the world; we don't move in pairs. I'm lonely because I'm -a woman on my own, and you're lonely because you're in hospital in a -foreign country. We met just at the time when we could give each other -courage." - -"But you don't look lonely," he protested; "one always thinks of -lonely people as being sad and untidy. You always look so terrifically -well-groomed and expensive. You create the impression that you're either -going to or returning from a party. I never saw you when you weren't -self-assured and occupied. I used to wonder how you spared me so much -time from your engagements." - -"Clever of me, wasn't it?" - -Instead of answering her, he came over and stood above where she sat -stitching beneath the lamp. He was seeing her for the first time not -as wise, self-reliant and fashionable, but as beautiful, alone and -unprotected. He could almost feel the ache of the bruises she had -suffered. He felt self-reproached; what had he given her? Up to now -anything that he could have given had seemed too small to mention. He -had taken from her continually, supposing that she had a surplus of -everything. And all the while she had been sharing his own hunger for -the presents that money cannot buy. - -"It's great to be alive, when you'd expected to be dead." - -It was her turn to be surprised. She raised her head quickly, -recognising a new earnestness in his tone. - -[Illustration: 0119] - -"One doesn't talk much about what happened at the Front," he said; -"but one can't help feeling that his life was spared for some definite -purpose. I believe the purpose was to be happy and to make others happy. -I don't want to hog my own pleasure any more or to trifle in the old -slovenly ways. I want to crowd every second with gratefulness for the -mere fact of living. That's what's been bringing me here so often. -That's why I've been so glad to carry Joan and Robbie away. Kiddies mean -so tremendously much more to me than they did before I nearly died. And -then there's home and women. I took them for granted once, but now... -It's like saying one's prayers to be in a good woman's presence. I -don't know if you at all understand me. I'm trying to thank you for what -you've done...." - -And there his eloquence failed, leaving him gazing down at her and -wondering whether she thought him foolish. She patted his hand, but -she did not meet his eyes. "It's all right. Don't explain. I know what -you're meaning to say." - -"Do you?" He spoke doubtfully. "I think I was trying to ask you if we -couldn't be happy together. I'm not married and I'm not engaged; but I'm -not like the other men you mentioned." - -"My dear boy, I never thought you were. If I had, you wouldn't have been -here. You're honourable all the way through; I knew that the moment I -saw you. Does that make you feel better?" - -He laughed happily. "Much. Do you know what I believe I've been trying -to ask you through all this maze of words? If I get permission from the -doctor to stay out late tomorrow night, would you be gay and go with me -to a theatre?" - -Her eyes met his with gladness. "I should love it." - - - - -CHAPTER X - -[Illustration: 9125] - -HAT evening at the theatre was the first conscious step in their -experiment of being happy together. She received word from him at -lunch-time that the doctor's permission had been granted and that he -would call for her at seven. The news made her as excited as if she -had never been to a theatre before in her life. She spent the afternoon -before the mirror, brushing and re-brushing her hair, and in laying -out all the pretty clothes which she knew men liked. It was three years -since she had dressed with the deliberate intent that a man should -admire her. Once to do that had been two-thirds of her life. To find -herself doing it again seemed like waking from a long illness; she could -hardly bring herself to believe that the monotony of sorrow was ended -and that she was actually going to be happy again. She had been made to -feel so long that to be happy would be disloyalty to past affections. - -She locked her bedroom door, for fear any of the servants should guess -how she was occupied. She was filled with an exultant shame that she -should still be capable of valuing so highly a man's opinion of her -appearance. "But I will be happy," she kept telling herself; "I have -the right." And then, in a whisper, "Oh, little house, you have been so -kind. Wish me luck and say that he'll think me nice." - -[Illustration: 0127] - -Outside in the bare black cradle of the trees the November afternoon -faded. Sparrows twittered of how winter was almost come. Against the -cold melancholy of the London sky, like silhouettes crayoned on a wall -of ice, roofs and chimneys stood smudged. In flickering pin-points of -incandescence street-lamps wakened; night came drifting like a ship into -harbour under shrouded sails. - -She had been sitting listening for a long time, haunted by childish -fears that he would not come. At seven promptly a taxi panted into -the square and drew up wheezing and coughing before the little house. -Seizing her evening-wrap, she ran down the stairs and had her hand -on the door before his knock had sounded. "I didn't want to keep you -waiting," she explained. - -He handed her into the cab. With a groan and a thump the engine pulled -itself together and they made good their escape. As she settled back -into her corner, pulling on her gloves, she watched him. So he also had -regarded it as a gala-night! He was wearing a brand-new uniform and had -been at extra pains to make his boots and belt splendid and shiny. -She did her best not to be observed too closely, for her eyes were -overbright and her color was high. She felt annoyed at herself for being -so girlish. - -"It's tremendous fun. I haven't been to the theatre in the evening -since... for years and years," she whispered. "The war is really ended. -I'm believing it for the first time." - -They dined together at Prince's to the fierce discords of Jazz music. -It suited her mood; it was primitive and reckless. Diners kept rising -between courses and slipping out in pairs to where dancing was in -progress. The whole world went in pairs tonight. And she had her man; -no one could make her lonely for just this one night. It was exciting to -her to notice how much more they seemed to belong to each other now that -they were in public. He felt it also, for he showed his sense of pride -and ownership in a hundred little ways. It was good to be owned after -having been left so long discarded. As he faced her across the table, he -had the air of believing that everybody was admiring her and envying him -his luck. She was immensely grateful that he should think so. It was as -though he could hear them saying, "How on earth did a one-armed fellow -do it?" Had they asked him, he could only have told them, "The house was -empty, so I entered." Yes, and even he had not guessed how empty! But -what had changed her? Knowing nothing about the locked door and how her -afternoon had been spent, he was puzzled. All he knew was that the woman -whom he had thought perfect, had revealed herself as more perfect. She -had become radiantly beautiful in a way quite new and unexpected. - -Of the play to which they went she saw but little; all she realised was -that it was merry--a fairy-tale of life. One does not notice much when -the heart is swollen with gladness. People sang, and looked pretty, and -fell in love. Everyone was paired and married before the curtain was -rung down. Something, however, she did remember: two lilting lines which -had been sung: - - And, while the sun is shining, - - Make hay, little girl, make hay. - -They kept repeating themselves inside her head. Unconsciously in the -darkness as they were driving home, she started humming them. - -"What did you say?" he questioned. - -"I didn't say anything. It was just a snatch from a tune we heard." - -"Was it? Won't you hum it again?" - -So in the intermittent gloom of the passing lights she tried; but -for some reason, inexplicable to herself, it made her feel choky. She -couldn't reach the end. Gathering her wrap closer about her, she drew -the fur collar higher to hide the stupid tears which had forced their -way into her eyes. - -"I believe you're crying!" he exclaimed with concern. "Do tell me what's -the matter." - -"I'm too happy," she whispered brokenly. The taxi drew up against the -pavement with a jerk. There was no knowing what he might say next to -comfort her. She both yearned to learn and dreaded. Flight was the safer -choice. Before he could assist her, she had jumped out. "Come tomorrow -and I'll thank you properly. I can't now. And... I'm sorry for having -been a baby." Catching at her skirts, she fled up the steps and let -herself into the darkened house. - -Not until his wheels had moved reluctantly away, did she climb the -narrow stairs to the room from which she had departed so gaily. Her -solitariness had returned. She had had her own man for a handful of -hours. They were ended. - -As she threw off her finery, she could still hear that voice -persistently advising, - - And, while the sun is shining, - - Make hay, little girl, make hay. - -In the darkness she flung herself down on the bed, burying her face in -the pillow. "I want to; oh, I want to," she muttered. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -[Illustration: 9137] - -OR three weeks she followed the song's advice. No one knew how long -happiness would last. With her it had never lasted. He would leave her -presently; already he was anticipating an early return to America. - -"I shall feel terribly flat when you've gone," she told him. - -"But I'll write. I'll write you the longest letters." - -"Ah, but letters aren't the same as being together." - -He didn't seem to share her need of him, and it hurt. If he did share -it, it was unconsciously. He had yet to awaken to what the need meant. -She had allowed him to become too sure of her, perhaps; had she kept him -more uncertain, he might have awakened. In any case, it was too late to -alter attitudes now and to think up reasons. - -He liked her in the jolliest kind of way as the most splendid of -diversions; but she wasn't essential to him for all time--only for the -present. She treasured no illusions about the longest letters. She knew -men--the world was filled with women; out of sight would be out of mind. -So every evening when he visited her, her heart was in her throat till -she had made him confess that he had not yet received his embarkation -orders. Some day he would tell her that he was going and would expect -her to congratulate him. She would have to smile and pretend that -she was glad for his sake. After that he would vanish and the long -eventlessness would re-commence. He would write intimately and often at -first; little by little new interests would claim him. There would be -a blank and then, after a long silence, a printed announcement, curtly -stating that he had found his happiness elsewhere. - -She saw herself growing old. The children would spring up so quickly. -She would be left with her pride, to dress and make herself beautiful -for an anonymous someone whose coming was indefinitely postponed. Youth -would go from her. For interminable evenings, stretching into decades, -she would watch afternoons fade into evenings. Everything would grow -quiet. She would sit beneath the lamp at her sewing. The whispering -parrot would take pity on her and croak, "What shall we talk about?" -Even that game would end one day, for Robbie would become a man and -marry. When that had happened it wouldn't be truthful for the parrot to -tell her that Robbie loved her best. She would listen for the clock -to strike, the fire to rustle, the coals to drop in the grate. Towards -midnight taxis would enter the square. Lovers would alight. She would -hear the paying of the fare, the tapping of a woman's high-heeled shoes -on the pavement, the slipping of the key into the latch, the opening and -closing of the door, and then again the silence. She would fold up her -work, turn out the lights and stand alone in the darkness, invisible as -a ghost. - -Ah, but he had not sailed yet. "Make hay, little girl, make hay." His -going was still only a threat. There was time, still time. She set a -date to her respite. She would not gaze beyond it. If she could only -have him till Christmas! - -Meanwhile he kept loyally to his contract that they should be happy -together. He gave her lavishly of his time. If he guessed how much the -gift meant, he said nothing to show it. He was like a great, friendly -schoolboy in his cheerfulness; he filled every niche of her desire. Now, -in the afternoon, when he took the children on adventures, she found -herself included. On the return home, he shared with her the solemn rite -of seeing them safely in bed. Then forth they would sally on some fresh -excursion. Always and increasingly there was the gnawing knowledge that -the end was nearer in sight--that soon to each of the habits they were -forming they would have to say, "We have done it for the last time." - -We, the bricks and mortar of the little house, watched her. We grew -desperate, for we loved her. What we had observed and overheard by -day we discussed together by night. If we could prevent it, we were -determined that he should not go. - -"But, if he goes," creaked the staircase, "he may return. They used to -say in my young days that the heart grows fonder through absence." - -"Rubbish," banged the door on the first landing. "Rubbish, I say." - -"He'll go," ticked the grandfather clock pessimistically. "He'll go. -He'll go." - -"Not if I know it," shouted the door and banged again. - -We had come to a few nights before Christmas. Which night I do not -remember, but I recall that we had started our decorations. Mistletoe -was hanging in the hall. Holly had been arranged along the tops of the -picture-frames. The children had been full of whisperings and secrets. -Parcels had already begun to arrive. They were handed in with a -crackling of paper and smuggled upstairs to a big cupboard in which they -were hidden from prying eyes. The children were now in bed, sleeping -quietly for fear of offending Santa Claus. The little lady was in the -room where she worked, checking over her list of presents. She had got -something for everyone but Robbie; she had postponed buying Robbie's -present for a very special reason of which we were all aware. Perhaps -it was superstition; perhaps a desperate hope. He had told her what he -wanted; it didn't look as if she would be able to get it. "It's no -good waiting," she told herself; "I shall have to buy him something -tomorrow." Just then, as if in answer to her thoughts, an impatient -_rat-tat-tat_ re-sounded. It was his unmistakably, but he had never -come so late as this before. All day she had listened and been full of -foreboding; she had despaired of his ever coming. There was an interval -after the door had been opened, during which he removed his coat. She -could picture his awkwardness in doing it. Then the swift, leaping step -of him mounting the stairs. Why had he delayed so long, only to come to -her at the last moment in such a hurry? She rose from her chair to face -him, her hands clenched and her body tense, as if to resist a physical -blow. As he appeared in the doorway his lips were smiling. There was -evidently something which he was bursting to tell her. On catching sight -of her face he halted. His smile faded. - -"What's the matter? What's happened?" She unclenched her hands and -looked away from him. "Nothing." - -"There must be something. Something's troubling you. What have you been -doing with yourself this evening?" - -Her gaze came back to him. She smiled feebly. "Wondering whether you -were coming and worrying over Robbie's present." - -"Robbie's present! That's nothing to worry over. We'II go together and -choose one tomorrow. I'll have time." - -"Time!" She straightened up bravely, the way she had rehearsed the scene -so often in her imagination. "Then it's true. You won't be here for -Christmas? You're sailing?" - -Her knowledge of his doings was uncanny. He came a step nearer, but she -backed away. He realised her fear lest he should touch her. For a moment -he was offended. Then, "My orders came today. How did you know? It was -what I came to tell you." - -"How did I know!" She laughed unsteadily. "How does one know anything? -The heart tells one things sometimes. You'll be busy tomorrow--so many -other things to think about. Robbie's present doesn't matter. It's -growing late... Good-bye." He stood astonished at her abruptness. What -had he done that she should be so anxious to rid herself of him? When he -did not seem to see her proffered hand, but stared at her gloomily, -her nerves broke. "Go. Why don't you go?" she cried fiercely. "You know -you'll be happy." - -"You want me to go?" he asked quietly. Had she heard her own voice, she -would have given way to weeping. With her handkerchief pressed tightly -against her lips, she nodded. - -He turned slowly, looked back from the threshold for a sign of relenting -and dragged his way haltingly down the stairs. In the hall beneath the -mistletoe he paused to listen. He fancied he had heard the muttering -of sobbing. So long as he paused he heard nothing; it was only when he -began to move that again he thought he heard it. Having flung his coat -about his shoulders, he eased his arm into the sleeve. This wasn't what -he had come for--a very different ending! - -And now the chance of the little house had arrived. Windows, chairs, -tables, walls, we had all pledged ourselves to help her. He attempted to -let himself out; the frontdoor refused to budge. He pulled, tugged and -worked at the latch without avail. - -"Shan't go. Shan't go. Shan't go," ticked the grandfather's clock -excitedly. Then the usual thing happened, which always happened when the -grandfather's clock got excited. - -There was a horrible _whirr_ of the spring running down; the weights -dropped with a bang. - -In the silence that followed he listened. She thought he had gone. There -could be no mistake now; she was crying as if her heart would break. - -The stairs creaked to warn her as he ascended. She could not have heard -them, for when he stepped into the room she took no notice. She had sunk -to the floor and lay with her face hidden in the cushions of the chair, -with the gold light from the lamp spilling over her. For some moments he -watched her--the shuddering rise and fall of her shoulders. - -"You told me to go," he said. "The little house won't let me; it was -always kind to us." And then, when she made no answer, "It's true. I've -got my sailing orders. But it was you who told me to go." - -She was listening now. He knew that, for the half-moon shoulders had -ceased to shudder. The smell of Jacqueminot drew him to her. Bending -over her, he stole one hand from beneath the buried face. "Do I need to -go?" - -And still there was no answer. It was then that the old grey parrot -spoke. He had pretended to be sleeping. "What shall we talk about?" he -whispered hoarsely; and, when an interval had elapsed, "Robbie?" - -The little lady, who had needed to be loved, lifted up her tear-stained -face and the wounded officer who had wanted rest, bent lower. - -"I don't need to go," he whispered. "I came to bring you Robbie's -present. He told me what he wanted." - - -THE END - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Little House, by Coningsby Dawson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LITTLE HOUSE *** - -***** This file should be named 50274-8.txt or 50274-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/2/7/50274/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - 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 Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. 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. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |