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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #51198 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51198)
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- THE WEB OF TIME
-
-
-
-
-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
-https://www.gutenberg.org/license. 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 Web of Time
-Author: Robert E. Knowles
-Release Date: February 12, 2016 [EBook #51198]
-Language: English
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WEB OF TIME ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Al Haines.
-
-
-
-
-
- _*THE WEB OF TIME*_
-
-
- _By_
-
- _*ROBERT E. KNOWLES*_
-
- _Author of "St. Cuthbert’s," "The Undertow,"_
- _"The Dawn at Shanty Bay"_
-
-
-
- _New York Chicago Toronto_
- _Fleming H. Revell Company_
- _London and Edinburgh_
-
-
-
-
- Copyright, 1908, by
- FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY
-
-
-
- New York: 158 Fifth Avenue
- Chicago: 80 Wabash Avenue
- Toronto: 25 Richmond Street, W.
- London: 21 Paternoster Square
- Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street
-
-
-
-
- To
- My Daughter
-
- ELIZABETH ELLIS KNOX KNOWLES
-
- whose gentle hands, guided
- from afar, have woven many
- a golden strand into life’s
- mysterious web, this book is
- dedicated with unuttered fondness.
-
-
-
-
- *CONTENTS*
-
- I. The Ashes on the Hearth
- II. The Wine-Press Alone
- III. Love’s Labourer
- IV. The Riches of the Poor
- V. A Flow of Soul
- VI. An Investment
- VII. "Effectual Calling"
- VIII. Of Such is the Kingdom
- IX. A Belated Enquirer
- X. Sheltering Shadows
- XI. Food for Thought
- XII. The Encircling Gloom
- XIII. The Dews of Sorrow
- XIV. The Weighing of the Anchor
- XV. A Parental Parley
- XVI. David the Diplomat
- XVII. Friendship’s Ministry
- XVIII. Voices of the Past
- XIX. A Brush With Death
- XX. The Restoring of a Soul
- XXI. A Heated Debate
- XXII. Breakers Ahead
- XXIII. Ingenuity of Love
- XXIV. The Victor’s Spoils
- XXV. What Made the Ball so Fine?
- XXVI. "The Fair Sweet Morn Awakes"
- XXVII. A Brother’s Mastery
- XXVIII. A Light at Midnight
- XXIX. How David Swept the Field
- XXX. A Journalist’s Injunctions
- XXXI. The Trough of the Wave
- XXXII. Harvey’s Unseen Deliverer
- XXXIII. Plain Living and High Thinking
- XXXIV. The Overflowing Hour
- XXXV. "Into His House of Wine"
- XXXVI. A Mistress Of Finance
- XXXVII. The Conqueror’s Home-Going
-XXXVIII. The Fleeing Shadows
-
-
-
-
- _*THE WEB OF TIME*_
-
-
-
- *I*
-
- _*THE ASHES ON THE HEARTH*_
-
-
-"No, father’s not home yet—go to sleep, dear," and the mother-hand
-tucked the clothes securely about the two snuggling forms; "don’t ask
-any more, Harvey, or you’ll waken Jessie—and go to sleep."
-
-Mrs. Simmons went back to the kitchen, crooning softly to the wakeful
-baby in her arms. Glancing at the clock, she marked, with an
-exclamation of surprise, how late it was. "He might be in any minute
-now," she said to herself as she thrust in another stick for the
-encouragement of the already steaming kettle. Then she busied herself a
-few minutes about the table; a brief pause, as if pondering, ended in
-her moving quickly towards the pantry, emerging a moment later with some
-little luxury in her hand.
-
-"Poor Ned, this night-work seems so hard—if he’s working at all," she
-thought to herself, "and he’ll be cold and tired when he comes in—hush,
-baby, isn’t that your father?" as she laid a finger on the crowing lips.
-
-The footfall came nearer, firm and steady, too—at which the anxious face
-lighted up; but a moment later it was gone, and silence reigned again.
-The baby seemed, in some mysterious way, to share the disappointment; in
-any case, it became suddenly quiet, the big blue eyes gazing up at the
-mother’s. The unfathomed depths, as such depths are prone to do, seemed
-to start some hidden springs of thought in the woman’s mind; for the
-anxious eyes that peered into them were now suffused with tears, then
-bright again with maternal fondness as she clasped the infant to her
-breast.
-
-For she dreaded the home-coming of her husband, even while she longed
-for it. The greatest of all books assures us that fear is cast out by
-love—but love may still fear something in the very one it loves above
-all others; some alien habit, some sin that changes the whole complexion
-of a soul. And thus was it with the wife who now awaited her husband’s
-coming with a troubled heart.
-
-It had not been ever thus. Far different had it been in the happy days
-with which her thoughts were busy now as she moved hither and thither,
-doing what deft and loving hands could do to make all bright and cheery
-before her husband should arrive. Those vanished days had been happy
-ones indeed, with nothing to cloud their joy.
-
-When Edward Simmons first crossed her path, she knew that her hour of
-destiny had come. He was then a journeyman printer—and he was handsome
-and chivalrous and fascinating; sensitive to the last degree, imperious
-by nature, but tender in the expression of his love for her. And how
-rapturously sure of the happiness that lay before them both! Passionate
-in temper he undoubtedly was—but tideful natures ever are. And he was
-slower to forgive himself than others.
-
-She had been little more than a girl, a fatherless girl, when first she
-met Edward Simmons—Ned, as his friends all called him—and in less than a
-year after their meeting she gave herself to him forever. Then her real
-life began, she thought; but before a year had passed, it was
-new-quickened and enriched beyond all of which she had ever dreamed.
-Her first-born son came to swell the fullness of her joy, and Eden
-itself broke into flower at his coming. The anguish and the ecstasy of
-motherhood had come twice again since then—and she marvelled at the new
-spring of love that each new baby hand smites in the wilderness of life.
-
-But the sky had darkened. When at its very brightest, the clouds had
-gathered. Steady employment and good wages and careful management had
-enabled her to garner a little, month by month; womanlike, she was
-already taking thought of how Harvey should be educated. And just when
-everything seemed prosperous, that awful trouble had come among the
-printers—between the masters and the men. Then came strikes and
-idleness—work by spasmodic starts, followed by new upheavals and
-deepening bitterness—and Ned had been more with the muttering men than
-with his Annie and the children.
-
-And—this was so much worse—he had gradually fallen a victim to a sterner
-foe. A tainted breath at first; later on, thick and confused utterance
-when he came home at night; by and by, the unsteady gait and the clouded
-brain—one by one the dread symptoms had become apparent to her. She had
-known, when she married, that his father had been a drinker; and one or
-two of her friends had hinted darkly about hereditary appetite—but she
-had laughed at their fears. Hereditary or not, the passion was upon
-him—and growing. Lack of work proved no barrier. Little by little, he
-had prevailed on her to give him of her hard-saved treasure, till the
-little fund in the post-office savings was seriously reduced.
-
-But there was another feature, darker still. It had changed him so.
-His whole moral nature had suffered loss. No wonder the woman’s face
-bore tokens of anxiety as she waited and watched through the long
-midnight hours; for drink always seemed to clothe her husband with a
-kind of harshness foreign to his nature, and more than once she had
-trembled before his glance and shuddered at his words. Against this,
-even her love seemed powerless to avail; for—and it is often so with the
-mysterious woman-heart—she seemed but to love him the more devotedly as
-she felt him drifting out to sea. She could only stretch vain hands
-towards the cruel billows amid which she could see his face—but the face
-she saw was ever that of happier days.
-
-Suddenly she started, her heart leaping like a hunted hare as she heard,
-far-off, clear sounding through the stillness of the night, the footfall
-she was waiting for. The child’s eyes seemed to fasten themselves upon
-the mother’s as if they caught the new light that suddenly gleamed
-within them; she held her babe close as she went swiftly to the door and
-slipped out into the night. The silent stars looked down on the poor
-trembling form as she stood and waited, shivering some—but not with
-cold—listening for the verdict her ears must be the first to catch.
-
-She had not long to wait; and the verdict would have been plain to any
-who could have seen her face as she turned a moment later and crept back
-into the house. The stamp of anguish was upon it; yet, mechanically,
-the babe’s eyes still on hers, she took up the little teapot and poured
-in the boiling water—the kettle went on with its monotonous melody. She
-had just time to hurry up and steal a glance at the children; they were
-asleep, thank God.
-
-The baby turned its eyes towards the door as the shambling feet came up
-to it and the unsteady hand lifted the latch. The mother pretended to
-be busied about the table, but the eager eyes stole a quick glance at
-her husband, darkening with sorrow as they looked. The man threw off
-his coat as soon as he entered.
-
-"I’m hungry," he said in a thick, unnatural voice.
-
-"I’ve got your supper all ready, dear," the woman’s low voice returned.
-She tried hard to keep it steady; "and I’ll just pour the tea. Are you
-tired, Ned?"
-
-He did not answer. Staggering towards the table, he began eating
-greedily, still upon his feet. "To-day’s been the devil," he muttered;
-"I can’t eat, I tell you—there’s only one thing I want, and I’ve had too
-much of that. But I’ve got to have it."
-
-"You didn’t speak to baby, Ned," she said timidly, trying to come closer
-to him, yet shrinking instinctively; "see how she jumps in my arms—she
-knows you, Ned."
-
-"I wish she’d never been born," the man said brutally; "it’ll only be
-another hungry mouth—how much have we left in the savings?"
-
-"And she was trying to say ’daddy’ to-day—and once I’m sure she did,"
-the mother went on, fearful of his quest and hoping to beguile him thus.
-
-"What’s that got to do with it?" he demanded angrily, commanding his
-words with difficulty. "The strikers had to give in—and we went back
-to-day. An’ the bosses won’t take us on again—they’ve sacked us, damn
-them, and every man of us has to come home to his hungry kids. How much
-is left out o’ what we’ve saved?" he repeated, tasting a cup of tea,
-only to let it fall from his shaking hand so suddenly that it was
-spilled about the table.
-
-"There’s about three hundred, Ned," she said hesitatingly. "We did have
-nearly five, you know—we’ve used such a lot of it lately."
-
-"I want some of it," he said gruffly. "I’ve got to pay into the fund
-for the men—and anyhow, I want money. Who earned it if it wasn’t me?"
-
-"Oh, Ned," she began pleadingly, "please don’t—please don’t make me,
-dear. It’s all we’ve got—and it’s taken so long to save it; and if
-times get worse—if you don’t get work?"
-
-The pitiful debate was waged a little longer. Suddenly she noticed—but
-could not understand—a peculiar change that came slowly over his
-countenance.
-
-"Maybe you’re right," he said at last, a leer of cunning on his face.
-"There ain’t goin’ to be any quarrellin’ between us, is there? We’ll
-see about it to-morrow." His whole tactics changed in a moment, the
-better to achieve his purpose. "You’ve always stood by me, Annie, an’
-you won’t go back on me now. Hello, baby," as he tried to snap his limp
-fingers, coming closer to the two.
-
-The child laughed and held out its arms. The father’s feet scraped
-heavily on the floor as he shuffled towards it. "It knows its dad all
-right," he said in maudlin merriment; "glad to see its old dad—if he did
-get fired. Come, baby, come to your old dad," and he reached out both
-hands to take it.
-
-The mother’s terror was written in her eyes. "Oh, don’t, Ned—don’t,
-please," she said; "she’ll catch cold—I’ve got her all wrapped up."
-
-"I’ll keep the blanket round her," he mumbled; "come to your old dad,
-baby," his voice rising a little.
-
-But his wife drew back. "Please don’t to-night, Ned," she remonstrated;
-"it’ll only excite her more—and I can’t get her to sleep," she pleaded
-evasively.
-
-His heavy eyes flashed a little. "I want that young ’un," he said
-sullenly, advancing a little; "I ain’t goin’ to eat her."
-
-The mother retreated farther, her lips white and set, her eyes leaping
-from the babe’s face to its father’s. "I can’t, Ned," she said; "let us
-both carry her, dear; come, we’ll make a chair of our hands, like we
-used to do for Harvey—and I’ll keep my arm about her, so," and she held
-out one hand, holding the baby firm with the other.
-
-He struck it down. "Give me that young ’un," he said, his nostrils
-dilating, his voice shaky and shrill.
-
-She stood like a wild thing at bay. "I won’t, Ned, I won’t," her voice
-rang out; "good God, Ned, it isn’t safe—go back," she cried, her voice
-ringing like a trumpet as she held the now terrified infant to her
-breast, the child rising and falling as her bosom heaved in terror.
-
-His eyes, unsteady now no longer, never left her face as he moved with a
-strange dexterity nearer and nearer to them both. The woman glanced one
-moment into the lurking depths, all aflame with the awful light that
-tenderness and madness combine to give, saw the outstretched hand, felt
-the fumes outbreathing from the parted lips—and with a low gurgling cry
-she sprang like a wounded deer towards the door. But he was too quick
-for her, flinging himself headlong against it. Aroused and inflamed by
-the fall, he was on his feet in an instant, clutching at her skirt as he
-arose.
-
-"Give me that young ’un," he said hoarsely; "we’ll see whose child this
-is."
-
-The woman’s lips surged with the low moaning that never ceased as the
-unequal struggle raged a moment, the helpless babe contributing its note
-of sorrow. Suddenly the man got his hands firmly on the little arms;
-and the mother, her instinct quick and sensitive, half relaxed her hold
-as she felt the dreadful wrenching of the maddened hands. With a gasp
-he tore the baby from her, reeling backward as the strain was suddenly
-relaxed. Struggling desperately, he strove to recover himself. But the
-strain had been too much for the ruined nerves. The child fell from his
-hands, the man’s arms going high into the air; an instant later he
-slipped and tottered heavily to the floor, the woman springing towards
-them as his outclutching hands seized her and bore her heavily down, the
-man now between the two, the silent infant beneath the struggling pair.
-
-She was on her feet in the twinkling of an eye, tearing him aside with
-superhuman strength. But the baby lay in the long last stillness; its
-brief troubled pilgrimage was at an end. And the little dreamers
-up-stairs still slept on in uncaring slumber—nor knew that their long
-rough journey was at hand. And the kettle on the stove still murmured
-its unconscious song.
-
- * * * * * *
-
-The evil spirit had departed from the man.
-
-It had gone forth with the destroying angel, both with their dread work
-well performed. And the man knew—with preternatural acuteness he
-interpreted his handiwork in an instant.
-
-And they knelt together—that is the wonder of it—together, above the
-baby form. Both noted the dimpled hand, and the rosebud mouth—both
-touched the flaxen hair. No word of chiding fell—from the mother’s lips
-nothing but an inarticulate broken flow, sometimes altogether still,
-like the gurgling of an ice-choked brook.
-
-But he was the first to declare that the child was dead, maintaining it
-fiercely, his eye aglow now with anguished pity, so different from the
-weird lustre that it had displaced. And she would not believe it,
-dropping one tiny hand that she might chafe the other, lest death might
-get advantage in the chase.
-
-She was still thus engaged when he arose and looked about the room for
-his hat. It was lying where he had flung it when he came in an eternity
-ago.
-
-"Good-bye—till—till the judgment day," he said huskily, standing above
-her, something of the wildly supernatural in the tone. He waited
-long—but she spoke no word, nor lifted her eyes from the dead face, nor
-relinquished her stern struggle with the complacent Conqueror.
-
-He went out—and was gone with steady step. She knew it not. Perhaps it
-was about half an hour later when he returned, opening the door gently
-and passing her swiftly by. A father’s yearning sat upon the ashen
-face—he went quickly and softly up the stairs. Then he lighted a match,
-shading it at first with his hands lest it should wake the shut eyes—and
-while it lent its fleeting light the stricken man drank deep of his
-children’s faces. Then the darkness swallowed them up, and he groped
-his way down-stairs and passed out into the night.
-
-
-It was still dark when she at last surrendered—but to God. And the fire
-was black and the house was cold when she too went out, closing the door
-carefully behind her. She groped about the little porch, feeling in
-every corner; and she examined the tiny veranda, and searched through
-all the neglected garden; she even noticed the fragrance of some simple
-flowers—they had planted them together, and the children had helped in
-turn, having one toy spade between them. But it was all empty, all
-still.
-
-"Oh, Ned," she cried softly, passionately, her hands outstretched
-beneath the all-seeing stars, her face now the face of age, "oh, Ned,
-come back—you didn’t mean to do it and you didn’t know. Come back, Ned,"
-she cried a little louder, "come back to Harvey and Jessie—they’ll never
-know. Oh, Ned," as the outstretched hands were withdrawn and pressed
-quickly against her bosom. For it pained her—with its mother-burden—and
-she turned to go back to her baby. Then she saw its still face in the
-darkness—and her hands went out again towards the night. The silent
-stars looked down, pitying, helpless; she went back to her fatherless
-and her God.
-
-
-
-
- *II*
-
- _*THE WINE-PRESS ALONE*_
-
-
-"The woman’s name’s Simmons, sir—an’ she took the whole o’ this half
-plot. She keeps a little store, mostly sweeties, I think," said
-Hutchins, as he laid his spade against the fence. "An’ there wasn’t no
-funeral—just her an’ her two children; she brought the little one here
-from the city—that’s where it was buried afore she came here to live."
-
-His chief asked the labourer a question in a low voice.
-
-"Oh, yes, that was all right," the man answered, picking an old leaf
-from a geranium plant as he spoke. "She showed me the original
-certificate she got in the city—or a copy of it, leastways; it said the
-baby came to its death from a fall on the floor. So that was all
-right—I asked the chairman. I couldn’t help feelin’ sorry for the
-woman, sir; she took on as bad as if it was new. An’ the two little
-shavers was playin’ hide an’ seek round the tombstones afore I got the
-little grave filled in—she seemed to be terribly alone. It’s funny,
-sir, how hard it is to get used to this business—I often says to my
-missus as how no man with kids of his own has any license to hire here,"
-and the kindly executioner went off, spade in hand, to make a new wound
-in the oft-riven bosom of God’s hospitable earth.
-
-The hired helper had told about all that was known in Glenallen
-concerning their new townswoman. Indeed, rather more; for comparatively
-few knew anything of the little family gathering that had stood one
-early morning beside the tiny grave. The village was small—Glenallen
-had not yet achieved its fond hope that it would outgrow the humiliating
-state of villagehood—and its inhabitants were correspondingly well
-posted in the source, and antecedents, and attendant circumstances of
-all who came to dwell among them. But almost all they could ascertain
-regarding Mrs. Simmons was that she had come from the city, that she had
-two children living—as far as they could learn, their father was
-dead—that she had some scanty means with which she had embarked on the
-humble enterprise that was to provide her daily bread.
-
-And thus far they were correct enough. For the first darkness of the
-great tragedy had no sooner overswept her than she began to shrink with
-an unspeakable aversion from all that was associated with the old life
-that had now no memory but pain. Her heart turned with wistful yearning
-towards some spot where she might live again the simple country life she
-had known in the early days of childhood. The cold selfishness of the
-city chilled her to the soul. She longed for some quiet country
-place—such as Glenallen was—where she might make a living, and live more
-cheaply; where her children might have a chance; where the beauty of
-God’s world might do its share of healing.
-
-She had known but few in the city, simple folk—and they had seemed to
-care but little. Yet they had to be kept in the dark; and the careful
-story of her baby’s fall had been an often crucifixion. They thought
-her husband had suddenly been crazed with grief, hinting sometimes at
-the cowardice of his desertion—and she made no protest, dissembling with
-ingenious love for his sake and her children’s. Few were aware when she
-left the city, and fewer seemed to care. She had little to bring—one
-sacred treasure was her chiefest burden—and it slept now beside her. And
-Harvey and Jessie must not know that their father was alive—not yet.
-They would have enough to bear; and moreover, who could tell? In any
-case, was he not dead to them?
-
-She never knew exactly what was the cause of it—whether blow or
-shock—nor did she care; but she trembled for her children as it became
-more and more certain that her eyesight was failing. It had begun to be
-impaired soon after that very night. Yet she went bravely on, clinging
-to her little ones, clinging to life, clinging to hope—even to joy, in a
-dim, instinctive way. And ever, night and day, she guarded the dread
-secret; ever, night and day, she cherished the hope that her eyes might
-look again, if God should spare their light, upon the face she had last
-seen with that awful look upon it as it came nearer and nearer to her
-own. So her lips were set tight, lest any revealing word should escape
-to any soul on earth.
-
-And it was not long till the curious residents of Glenallen felt that
-the stranger among them was acquainted with grief—but of what sort it
-was, the most vigilant never knew. Thus did she tread the wine-press
-alone, pressing silently along the upward path of pain.
-
-And thus had the years gone by.
-
-
-
-
- *III*
-
- _*LOVE’S LABOURER*_
-
-
-"Cut him off another piece, mother—a bigger piece; that there chunk
-wouldn’t satisfy a pigeon. Fruit-cake isn’t very fillin’—not to a boy,
-leastways, and there’s nothin’ lonelier than one piece of cake inside of
-a boy that’s built for nine or ten."
-
-Mr. Borland’s merry eyes turned first upon his wife’s face as he made
-his plea, then wandered towards a distant field, resting upon the
-diminutive figure of a boy.
-
-"Oh, David," answered his wife, her tone indicating a measure of shock,
-"you’re so vivid with your illustrations. It isn’t artistic—I mean
-about—about those inside matters," as she smiled, rather than frowned,
-her mild reproof.
-
-"That’s all right, mother; it’s true to life, anyhow—an’ it all deals
-with his inner bein’; it tells of sufferin’ humanity," rejoined her
-husband. "The smaller the boy, the bigger the hunk—that’s a safe rule
-when you’re dealin’ in cake. Bully for you, mother—that there slice’ll
-come nearer fittin’ him," he concluded jubilantly, as his wife completed
-a piece of surgery more generous than before.
-
-"Who was it hired Harvey to pick potatoes, father?" inquired Mrs.
-Borland. "How can he eat this without washing his hands?" she
-continued, almost in the same breath; "it’s such dirty work."
-
-"You just watch him; that won’t trouble him much. Boys love sand. It
-was me that hired him, Martha. He come right up to me on the street an’
-took off his hat like I was an earl: ’Can you give me any work to do,
-Mr. Borland?’ he says. ’I’m going to make enough money to make mother’s
-eyes well,’ an’ the little fellow looked so earnest an’ so manly, I fair
-hated to tell him the only kind of job I could give him. I just hated
-to. But I told him I wanted some one to pick potatoes. An’ Harvey
-brightened right up. ’All right, Mr. Borland,’ he says, ’I’ll come.
-I’m awful fond of potatoes, an’ I can pick two at a time—three, if
-they’re not too big,’ he says, an’ I couldn’t keep from laughin’ to save
-myself."
-
-"What’s the matter with his mother’s eyes?" asked Mrs. Borland, as she
-tore the front page from the weekly paper, preparing to wrap it about
-the cake.
-
-"I didn’t like to ask him. The little fellow seemed to feel real bad
-about it—an’ I never did like to probe into things that hurt," replied
-her husband. "Even when I was a boy at school, I never could stand
-seein’ a fellow show where he stubbed his toe," continued the homely
-philosopher, reaching out his hand for the little parcel. "There was
-one thing about the boy that took me wonderful," he went on; "I asked
-him would he work by the day or by the bushel, an’ he said right quick
-as how he’d do it by the bushel—I always like those fellows best that
-prefers to work by the job. Hello, there, old sport," he suddenly
-digressed as a noise from behind attracted him, "an’ where did you come
-from? You’re always turnin’ up at cake time. I thought you were goin’
-to ride to Branchton," glancing as he spoke at the riding whip the girl
-held in her hand.
-
-Full of merry laughter were the eyes, so like his own, that sparkled
-upward towards her father’s face. The wild sweet breath of happy
-girlhood came panting from her lips, half breathless with eager haste;
-while the golden hair, contrasting well with the rosy tide that suffused
-her cheek, and falling dishevelled on her shoulders, and the very aroma
-of health and vitality that distilled from her whole form, tall and
-lithe and graceful as it was, might amply justify the pride that marked
-her father’s gaze.
-
-"So I was," the chiming voice rejoined. "But I turned back. I despise
-a coward." The eyes flashed as she spoke. "And Cecil Craig’s one—he’s
-a real one," she elaborated warmly. "We met a threshing engine half-way
-out—and of course I was going to ride past it. But he wouldn’t—he got
-off and tied his horse to a tree. And it broke the lines and got away.
-I was so glad—and I rode on, and Doctor threw me," rubbing her knee
-sympathetically as she spoke; "that’s what made me so glad his own horse
-got away," she affirmed savagely, "and the two engine men stopped and
-caught Doctor for me and I got on him again—astride this time—and I made
-him walk right up and smell the engine; and Cecil had to walk home. The
-men told him to touch himself up with his whip and it wouldn’t take him
-long—and that made him awful mad. You see, they knew he was a coward.
-Who’s that fruit-cake for?" she inquired suddenly, flinging her gloves
-vigorously towards the hat-stand. "I’ll just try a piece
-myself—fruit-cake’s good for a sore knee," and she attacked it with the
-dexterity that marks the opening teens.
-
-"It’s for a little boy that’s workin’ in the field—little Harvey
-Simmons. He’s pickin’ potatoes, an’ I thought a little refreshment
-wouldn’t hurt him," her father answered, pointing fieldward as he spoke.
-
-"I know him," the maiden mumbled, her mouth full of the chosen remedy;
-"he goes to school—and he always spells everybody down," she added as
-enthusiastically as the aforesaid treatment would permit. "Let me take
-it out to him, father," the utterance clearing somewhat.
-
-The father was already handing her the dainty parcel when her mother
-intervened. "No, Madeline, it’s not necessary for you to take it. It’s
-hardly the correct thing, child; I’ll call Julia—she can take it out."
-
-"’Tisn’t necessary, mother," quoted her husband. "I want this here cake
-to mean something. I’ll just take it myself," and in a moment he was
-striding energetically across the intervening paddock, the untiring form
-of the little labourer alternately rising and falling as he plied his
-laborious toil.
-
-"Your father is the best-hearted man in the county, Madeline," Mrs.
-Borland ventured when her husband was out of hearing.
-
-"He’s the best man in the world," the girl amended fervently; "and Cecil
-says his father’s a member of the Church and mine isn’t," she went on
-more vehemently; "he said father didn’t believe the right things—and I
-just told him they weren’t the right things if my father didn’t believe
-them, and I wouldn’t believe them either," the youthful heretic
-affirmed. "Lally Kerr told me Cecil’s father made some poor people give
-him money for rent that they needed for a stove—I didn’t want to tell
-Cecil that, but when he said his father believed all the right things I
-told him my father did all the good things, and he was kind to the
-poor—and I told him he was kind to them because he was poor once himself
-and used to work so hard with his hands, and——"
-
-"Why, child," and the mother frowned a little, "where did you get that
-idea? Who told you that?"
-
-"Father told me," replied the child promptly. "He told me himself, and I
-think I heard him telling Cecil’s father that once too—Cecil’s father
-wanted not to give so much money to the men that worked for him. I
-think they were talking about that, and that was when father said it,"
-the unconscious face looking proudly up into her mother’s.
-
-"You don’t need to speak about it, dear; it doesn’t sound well to be—to
-be boasting about your father, you know. Now run away and get ready for
-lunch; father ’ll be back in a minute."
-
-The child turned to go upstairs, singing as she went, forgetful of the
-mild debate and blissfully ignorant of all the human tumult that lay
-behind it, conscious only of a vague happiness at thought of the great
-heart whose cause she had championed in her childish way. Less of
-contented joy was on the mother’s face as she looked with half exultant
-eyes upon the luxury about her, trophies of the wealth that had been so
-welcome though so late.
-
-Prompted by the conversation with Madeline, her mind roamed swiftly over
-the bygone years; the privations of her early married life, the growing
-comfort that her husband’s toil had brought, the trembling venture into
-the world of manufacture, the ensuing struggle, the impending failure,
-the turning tide, the abundant flow that followed—and all the fairy-land
-into which increasing wealth had borne her. Of all this she thought as
-she stood amid the spoils—and of the altered ways and loftier friends,
-of the whirl and charm of fashion, of the bewildering entrance into such
-circles of society as their little town afforded, long envied from afar,
-now pouring their wine and oil into still unhealing wounds. Dimly, too,
-it was borne in upon her that her husband’s heart, lagging behind her
-own, had been content to tarry among the simple realities of old,
-unspoiled by the tardy success that had brought with it no sense of
-shame for the humble days of yore, and had left unaltered the simplicity
-of an honest, kindly heart.
-
-Her husband, in the meantime, had arrived at the side of his youthful
-employee, his pace quickening as he came nearer to the lad, the corners
-of his mouth relaxing in a sort of unconscious smile that bespoke the
-pleasure the errand gave him. Absorbed in his work, and hearing only
-the rattle of the potatoes as they fell steadily into the pail beside
-him, the boy had not caught the approaching footfalls; he gave a little
-jump as Mr. Borland called him by his name.
-
-"Here’s a little something for you, my boy—the missus sent it out."
-
-Harvey straightened himself up, clapped his hands together to shake the
-dust from them, and gravely thanked his employer as he received the
-little package. Slowly unwrapping it, his eye brightened as it fell on
-a sight so unfamiliar; in an instant one of the slices was at his lips,
-a gaping wound in evidence as it was withdrawn. A moment later the boy
-ceased chewing, then slowly resumed the operation; but now the paper was
-refolded over the remaining cake, and Harvey gently stowed it away in
-the pocket of his blouse.
-
-"What’s the matter?" inquired Mr. Borland anxiously. "Aren’t you
-well—or isn’t it good?" The boy smiled his answer; other reply was
-unnecessary and inadequate.
-
-"Goin’ to take it home?" the man asked curiously.
-
-"No, sir. I’m just going to keep it a little while," the youngster
-replied, looking manfully upward as he spoke, a little gulp bespeaking
-the final doom of the morsel he had taken. "You don’t mind, sir?" he
-added respectfully.
-
-"Me mind! What would I mind for? You’re quite right, my boy—it’s a
-mighty good thing when a fellow finds out as young as you are that he
-can’t eat his cake and have it too; it takes most of us a lifetime to
-learn that. How old are you, Harvey—isn’t that your name?"
-
-"Yes, sir. I’m most fourteen," the boy answered, stooping again to
-resume his work.
-
-"Do you go to school?" the man inquired presently.
-
-"Mostly in the winter, sir; not very much in the summer. But I do all I
-can. You see, I have to help my mother in the store when she needs me.
-But I’m going to try the entrance next summer," he added quickly, the
-light of ambition on his face.
-
-"Where is your mother’s store?" asked Mr. Borland.
-
-"It’s that little store on George Street, next to the Chinese laundry.
-It has a red door—and there’s a candy monkey in the window," he hastened
-to add, this last identification proffered with much enthusiasm.
-
-A considerable silence followed, broken only by the rattling potatoes as
-they fell. "Mr. Borland, could you give me work in your factory?" the
-boy inquired suddenly, not pausing for an instant in his work.
-
-"In the factory!" echoed Mr. Borland. "I thought you were going to
-school."
-
-"I could work after four," replied the boy. "There’s two hours left."
-
-Mr. Borland gazed thoughtfully for a moment. "’Twouldn’t leave you much
-time to play," he said, smiling down at Harvey.
-
-"I don’t need an awful lot of play," the boy returned gravely; "I never
-got very much used to it. Besides, I’ve got a lot of games when I’m
-delivering little parcels for mother—games that I made up myself.
-Sometimes I play I’m going round calling soldiers out because there’s
-going to be a war—and sometimes I play I’m Death," he added solemnly.
-
-"Play you’re Death!" cried the startled man. "What on earth do you mean
-by that? I thought no one ever played that game but once," he
-concluded, as much to himself as to the boy.
-
-"Oh, it’s this way, you see—it’s one of the headlines in the copy-book
-that pale Death knocks with—with—impartial steps at the big houses and
-the little cottages—something like that, anyhow. And it’s a good deal
-the same with me," the boy responded gravely, looking up a moment as he
-spoke. "It’s a real interesting game when you understand it. Of course
-I’m not very pale," he continued slowly, "but I can feel pretty pale
-when I want to," he concluded, smiling at the fancy.
-
-Mr. Borland was decidedly interested. And well he might have been. For
-there was just enough of the same mystic fire in his own heart,
-untutored though it was, to reveal to him the beauty that glowed upon
-the boyish face before him. The lad was tall for his years,
-well-formed, lithe, muscular; dishevelled by his stooping toil, a wealth
-of nut-brown hair fell over an ample forehead, almost overshading the
-large blue eyes that were filled with the peculiar shining light which
-portrays the poetic mind. His features were large, not marked by any
-particular refinement, significant rather of the necessity—yet also of
-the capacity—for moral struggle; distended nostrils, marking fullness of
-life and passion, sensitive to the varying emotions that showed first in
-the wonderful eyes; a deep furrow ran from nose to lips, the latter
-large and full of rich red blood, but finely formed, curving away to
-delicate expression at either side, significant of a nature keenly alive
-to all that life might have to give—such lips as eloquence requires, yet
-fitted well together, expressive of an inner spirit capable of the
-firmness it might sorely need.
-
-"Could you drive a horse, lad?" the man suddenly inquired, after a long
-survey of the unconscious youth.
-
-Harvey hesitated. "I think I could, sir, if the horse was willing.
-Sometimes we play horse at school, and I get along pretty well."
-
-Mr. Borland looked keenly, but in vain, for any trace of merriment on
-the half-hidden face. "I drove the butcher boy’s horse once or twice,
-too. And I managed all right, except when it backed up—I hate to drive
-them when they’re backing up," the boy added seriously, with the air of
-an experienced horseman.
-
-Mr. Borland laughed. "That’s jest where it comes in," he said; "any one
-can drive anything when it’s goin’ ahead—it’s when things is goin’ back
-that tries your mettle. I’ll see what I can do. Some of our horses
-drives frontwards—horses is pretty evenly divided between the kind that
-goes frontwards and them that won’t," he mused aloud as he walked away.
-"I’ve struck a heap of the last kind—they backed up pretty hard when I
-was your age," Harvey could just overhear as he plucked the dead vines
-from another mound and outthrew its lurking treasures.
-
-
-
-
- *IV*
-
- _*THE RICHES OF THE POOR*_
-
-
-The retreating figure had no sooner gained the house in the distance
-than Harvey began to cast glances, eager and expectant, towards the road
-that skirted the outer edge of the field in which he was working. Once
-or twice he straightened up, wincing a little with the ache that long
-stooping brings, and peered intently towards the top of a distant hill
-beyond which he could not see. Suddenly his eye brightened, and a
-muffled exclamation of pleasure broke from his lips, for the vision he
-longed for had appeared. Yet it was commonplace enough—only a coloured
-sunbonnet, some four or five feet from the ground, and swaying a little
-uncertainly in the noontide light. But it was moving nearer, ever
-nearer, to the waiting boy, who knew the love that lent strength to the
-little feet and girded the tiny hands which bore something for himself.
-
-The girlish form was now well beyond the curving hill, trudging bravely
-on; and Harvey saw, or thought he saw, the happy smile upon the eager
-face, the pace quickening as she caught sight of her brother in the
-distance. Harvey’s eyes filled with tenderness as he gazed upon the
-approaching child; for the poor, if they love and are loved again, know
-more of life’s real wealth than the deluded rich.
-
-A few minutes more and she was at the bars, panting but radiant. Harvey
-ran to lay them down, taking the bundles from her hands. "Oh, but my
-arms ache so," the girl said, as she sank upon the grass; "it must be
-lovely to have a horse."
-
-"Some day we will," her brother returned abruptly. "You just wait and
-see—and then you won’t ever walk anywhere. But you oughtn’t to carry
-these all this way, Jessie; I could bring it in my pocket just as well."
-
-The girl’s face clouded a little. "But then it gets so cold, Harvey—and
-what’s in there ought to be nice and warm," she said hopefully, nodding
-towards the pail. "Mother heated the can just when we put it in, and I
-came as fast as ever I could, so it wouldn’t cool—and I held it in the
-hot sun all the time," she concluded triumphantly, proud of her
-ingenuity.
-
-"That’s lovely, Jessie," replied the boy; "and you’re quite right," he
-went on, noticing the flitting sign of disappointment. "I just hate
-cold things—and I just love them hot," he affirmed as he removed the
-lid.
-
-Jessie bended eagerly over it and the faint steam that arose was as
-beautiful to her eyes as was ever ascending incense to priestly
-ministrant.
-
-"It’s hot, Harvey! I thought it would be," she cried. "Mother was so
-anxious for you to have a nice dinner—I knew that was what you liked,"
-as an exclamation of delight came from the boy. "Mother said she never
-saw such a boy for meat-pies as you. And there’s something further down,
-that you like too—they’re under a saucer, and they have butter and sugar
-both, on them. No, you’d never guess what it is—oh, that’s not fair,"
-she cried, "you’re smelling; any one can guess what it is if they
-smell," laughing merrily as she tried to withdraw the pail beyond the
-range of his olfactory powers.
-
-"It’s pancakes!" pronounced her brother, sniffing still.
-
-"Yes, of course—but you never would have guessed. Mother made them the
-very last thing before I started. And I cried when she was putting them
-in—oh, Harvey, it was so sad," the girl burst out with trembling voice,
-her hands going to her face as she spoke. "And mother cried too," she
-added, looking out at her brother through swimming eyes.
-
-Harvey halted in his attack. "What for? What were you crying about?"
-he asked earnestly, the food still untasted.
-
-"It was about mother’s eyes. You see, she put the pancakes on the table
-beside the stove—and there was a pile of table mats beside them. Well,
-when mother went to put them into the pail, she took up the mats
-instead—never knew the difference till she felt them. And I could see
-how sad it made her—she said she was afraid she soon wouldn’t see at
-all; and I just couldn’t keep from crying. Oh, Harvey," the shaking
-voice went eagerly on, "don’t you think we’ll soon be able to send her
-to the city to see the doctor there?—everybody says he could cure the
-right eye anyhow; mother thinks the left one’s gone. Don’t you think we
-will, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey looked into space, a large slice of the tempting pie still in his
-hand. "I’m hoping so," he said—"I made almost thirty cents this
-morning; I counted it up just before you came—and there’s the two
-dollars I made picking raspberries that mother doesn’t know about—it’s
-in that knot-hole in the closet upstairs, you know. And maybe Mr.
-Borland’s going to give me more work—I asked him, and then——"
-
-"I told mother I was going to sell Muffy," his sister broke in
-impulsively. "But she said I mustn’t; I guess she’s awful fond of
-Muffy, she cried so hard."
-
-"I’d hate to sell Muffy," the boy responded judicially; "she’s the only
-one that always lays big eggs. And then, besides, they might kill her
-and eat her up—rich people nearly always do their hens that way." Two
-pairs of eyes darkened at thought of a tragedy so dread.
-
-"We wouldn’t, even if we was rich, would we, Harvey?" the girl resumed
-earnestly.
-
-"No, not with Muffy," Harvey assured her. "They’re awful rich over
-there," he volunteered, pointing to the large stone house in the
-distance.
-
-"It must be lovely," mused the girl. "We could have such lots of lovely
-things. Why don’t you eat your dinner, Harvey?—it’ll get so cold."
-
-"I don’t want it much," replied her brother. "You see, I had a pretty
-good breakfast," he explained cheerfully.
-
-The loving eyes, still moist, gazed into his own. She was so young, some
-years younger than he, and as inexperienced almost as a child could be;
-yet the stern tuition of poverty and sorrow had given something of
-vision to the eyes that looked so wistfully out upon the plaintive face
-before her. She noted his shabby dress, the patches on his knees, the
-boots that stood so sorely in need of impossible repairs, the grimy
-stains of toil from head to foot, the furrowed channels that the flowing
-perspiration had left upon his face. And a great and mysterious pity
-seemed to possess her. She felt, dimly enough, yet with the sad reality
-of truth, that her brother had hardly had a chance in life’s unequal
-struggle. His tenderness, his unselfishness, his courage, all these she
-recognized, though she could not have called them by their names. She
-knew how ardently he longed to do so much that chill penury forbade; and
-as she glanced at the dust-covered pile in the distance that his toil
-had gathered, then back at the tired figure on the grass, all stained
-and spotted, the food he so much needed untasted in his sorrow, she felt
-more and more that there was only one hero in the world, however baffled
-and unrecognized he might be.
-
-"Mother’ll be so disappointed," the girl pleaded, "if you don’t eat it,
-Harvey; she tried so hard to make it nice. Besides, I’ll just have to
-carry it back," she suddenly urged, a note of triumphant expectation in
-her voice; "and it was real heavy, too," well pleased with the
-culminating argument.
-
-The boy hesitated, then slowly raised the tempting morsel to his lips.
-"I didn’t have such an awful lot of breakfast," he conceded; "I really
-am pretty hungry—and it was so good of you to fetch it to me, sister,"
-his gaze resting affectionately on her.
-
-A long silence ensued, Jessie watching delightedly as the little repast
-was disposed of, entertaining her brother the while with a constant
-stream of talk, all fed from the fountain-head of their own little
-circle, their own humble and struggling life. But however far afield
-her speech, with her thought, might wander, it kept constantly returning
-to the one central figure of their lonely lives, to her from whom their
-own lives had sprung; and the most unobservant listener would soon have
-known that the unselfish tenderness, the loving courage, of the
-mother-heart that had warmed and sheltered their defenseless lives, was
-reaping now its great and rich reward.
-
-Jessie had reverted again to the dark shadow that overhung them both,
-their mother’s failing eyesight; and two earnest little faces looked
-very soberly one into the other, as though they must together beat back
-the enemy from the gate.
-
-Suddenly Harvey broke the silence. "I’m pretty sure she’s going to get
-well," he said earnestly, holding the bottle in one hand and the glass
-stopper in the other. "I had a dream last night that—that comforted me
-a lot," he went on, slightly embarrassed by the fanciful nature of his
-argument; he could see that Jessie had hoped for something better. "I
-dreamed I was walking some place on a country road. And it was all
-dark—for mother, at least—it was awful dark, and I was leading her by
-the hand. I thought there was something troubling her that you didn’t
-know about—nor me—nobody, only mother. Well, just when we were groping
-round in the dark, a great big black cloud broke up into little bits,
-and the sun came out beautiful—just like—like it is now," he described,
-glancing towards the orb above them. "Of course, that was only in my
-dream—but we went straight on after that and mother could see to walk
-just as well as me," he concluded, smiling as hopefully as if dreams
-were the only realities of life.
-
-Jessie, holding her sunbonnet by both strings and swinging it gently to
-and fro, had a curious look of interest, not unmixed with doubt, upon
-her childish face. "That was real nice, Harvey," she said slowly at
-length, "but I don’t just understand. You see, people always dream
-their dreams at night—and the sun couldn’t come out at night; anyhow it
-never does."
-
-Harvey gazed indulgently. "It can do anything when you’re dreaming," he
-said quickly, a far-off look in his thoughtful eyes. "That’s when all
-the wonderful things happen," he went on, still looking absently across
-the fields. "Poor folks have just as good a time as rich folks, when
-they’re asleep," he concluded, his voice scarcely audible.
-
-"But they know the difference when they wake up," retorted his sister,
-plucking a clover leaf eagerly. "Only three leaves!" she exclaimed
-contemptuously, tossing it aside. "Yes, it’s very different when they
-wake up—and everybody’s awake more than they’re asleep," she affirmed,
-as confident in her philosophy as he in his.
-
-Her brother said nothing as he proceeded to fold up the rather generous
-remains of his dinner; poor laddie, he knew the taste of bread eaten
-with tears, even if he had never heard the phrase. His face brightened
-a little as his hand went out to the pocket of his blouse, extracting a
-parcel wrapped in paper. He held it with both hands behind his back,
-uncovering it the while.
-
-"Shut your eyes, Jessie—and open your mouth," he directed, as
-enthusiastically as though the formula were being tested for the first
-and only time.
-
-Jessie obeyed with a confidence born of long experience, and her
-brother, all care vanished meanwhile from his face, held the plum-cake
-to her lips. "Now, bite," he said. Jessie, already faintly tasting,
-made a slight incision. "Oh, Jessie, bite bigger—bite bigger, Jessie!"
-he cried in dismay; "you’re just trying how little you can take—and I
-kept it for you." But Jessie’s eyes were wide open now, fixed on the
-unwonted luxury. "Too much isn’t good for little girls," she said
-quaintly, swallowing eagerly, nevertheless; "I’ll eat one piece if
-you’ll eat the other, Harvey," she said, noticing the double portion.
-
-"I’m keeping mine for mother," said the boy resolutely.
-
-"So’m I," the other exclaimed before his words were out. "I’d sooner
-have the pancakes, anyhow," she added, fearing his protest. "Will you
-take it to her, Harvey—or me?"
-
-"I think you’d better," replied her brother, "and I’ll eat the rest of
-the dinner if you’ll promise to eat your part of the cake when you get
-home."
-
-Jessie nodded her consent, and a few minutes saw Harvey’s portion of the
-contract nobly executed, his sister as satisfied as he.
-
-
-
-
- *V*
-
- _*A FLOW OF SOUL*_
-
-
-Good Dr. Fletcher always said a little longer grace than usual when he
-dined at Mr. Craig’s. Whether this was due to the length of the ensuing
-meal, or to the long intervals that separated these great occasions, or
-to the wealth that provided them, or to the special heart-needs of the
-wealthy, it were difficult to say. But one thing is beyond all doubt,
-and that is that the good minister of the Glenallen Presbyterian Church
-would no more have thought of using an old grace at Mrs. Craig’s table
-than she herself would have dreamed of serving the same kind of soup, or
-repeating a dessert whose predecessor was within the call of memory.
-
-On this particular evening Dr. Fletcher’s invocation had been
-particularly long, due perhaps to the aroma, more than usually
-significant, that had escaped the kitchen to assure the sanguine guests;
-and a sort of muffled amen broke from their waiting lips, soon to
-confirm the word by all sincerity of action. This amen was doubtless due
-in part to gratitude for what had ended, as well as to anticipation of
-what was about to be begun. Cecil Craig, seated beside his mother, took
-no part in the terminal devotion; long before the time to utter it, his
-open eyes were turned towards the door through which the servants were
-to enter, and from which, so far as he could reckon, all blessings flow.
-
-Soup came first, and young Craig dauntlessly led on in the attack. His
-mother tried eagerly to call to his attention, and to his alone, that he
-had seized the spoon meant for his dessert; but Cecil was already in
-full cry, the mistaken weapon plying like a paddle-wheel between his
-plate and his mouth—and no signal of distress could reach him. The most
-unfortunate feature of it all, however, was the speedy plight of one or
-two timorous guests, who, waiting for the lead of any members of the
-family, had followed Cecil’s; and, suddenly detecting whither he had led
-them, were soon floundering sadly in such a slough of despond as they
-scarce escaped from during the entire meal.
-
-Mr. and Mrs. Borland were there, one on either side of Dr. Fletcher; and
-the light of temporary peace was upon Mrs. Borland’s brow—for the
-Craigs’ home was nearer to a mansion than any other in Glenallen. A
-slight shade of impatience flitted across her face as she glanced
-athwart Dr. Fletcher’s portly form, surveying her husband’s bosom
-swathed in snowy white, his napkin securely tucked beneath his chin.
-But David was all unconscious, the region beneath the napkin being
-exceeding comfortable; for the soup was good, and her spouse bade fair
-to give Cecil a stern chase for the honours of the finish.
-
-Soup is a mighty lubricant of the inward parts; wherefore there broke
-out, when the first course was run, a very freshet of conversation; and
-the most conspicuous figure in the flow was that of Mr. Craig. He had
-the advantage, of course, of an erect position, for he had risen to
-inaugurate his attack upon the helpless fowl before him; an entrance
-once effected, he would resume his seat.
-
-"It beats me," he was saying, glancing towards Dr. Fletcher as he spoke,
-"it beats me how any man can go and see sick folks every day—I’d sooner
-do hard labour. Don’t you get awful tired of it, Doctor?"
-
-The minister’s gentle face flushed a little—the same face at sight of
-which the sad and the weary were wont to take new hope. "I don’t think
-you understand it, Mr. Craig," he answered quietly; "any one who regards
-it as you do could never see the beauty of it—it all depends on what you
-take with you."
-
-"Good heavens, do you have to take things with you?" cried the
-astonished host. "Matters are come to a pretty pass when they expect a
-poor preacher to be giving—as well as praying," he affirmed, affirmed,
-savagely at the victim on the platter.
-
-David Borland was listening intently, nabbing dexterously the while at a
-tray of salted almonds that lay a good arm’s length away from him. "The
-minister’s quite right," he now broke in; "you don’t understand, Mr.
-Craig—Dr. Fletcher don’t mean that he takes coal an’ tea, when he visits
-poor folks. But what he says is dead true just the same—any one can
-carry a bag of turnips, or such like, to any one that’s willin’ to take
-’em. But a minister’s got to give somethin’ far more than that; even on
-Sundays—at least that’s my idea of it—even on Sundays, what a preacher
-gives is far more important than what he says."
-
-"You mean he ought to give himself," Mrs. Craig suggested, stirring the
-gravy as she spoke, the dismembered turkey being now despatched to its
-anointing.
-
-"That’s it exactly," rejoined David, beaming on his hostess, her own
-face aglow with the gentle light that flows from a sympathetic heart.
-"Everythin’s jest a question of how much you give of your own self; even
-here," his voice rising as he hailed the happy illustration, "even in
-this here house—with this here bird—we ain’t enjoyin’ it because we’re
-gettin’ so much turkey, but because we’re gettin’ so much Craig," he
-went on fervently. "I could buy this much turkey for a quarter,"
-passing a well-laden plate as he spoke, "for twenty-five cents at an
-eatin’ house—but it wouldn’t jest taste the same. It wouldn’t have the
-Craig taste, you see—there wouldn’t be no human flavour to it, like; an’
-turkey ain’t nothin’ without a human flavour. That’s what makes
-everythin’ taste good, you see," he concluded, smiling benignly around
-on the assembled guests.
-
-"I don’t believe in any such," retorted Mr. Craig; "no mixture of that
-kind for mine. Turkey’s one thing, and humanity’s another—no stews for
-me," he directed, smiling broadly at this flash of unaccustomed wit;
-"people eat turkey—but not humanity," he concluded victoriously.
-
-"You’re wrong there," replied David Borland quickly. "Folks lives on
-humanity—only it’s got to be served warm," he added, falling to upon the
-turkey nevertheless.
-
-"What do you think about it, Doctor?" Mrs. Borland enquired absently,
-for her real concern was with David; his dinner knife was her constant
-terror when they were dining out. All was well so far, however, her
-husband devoting it as yet to surgery alone.
-
-"I think exactly what your husband thinks," replied the minister. "He
-has said the very thing I have often wished to say. I have always felt
-that what a preacher _gives_ to his people—of his heart and love and
-sympathy—is far more than what he _says_ to them. If it were not so,
-they’d better stay home and read far finer things than he can say; I
-often feel that preparing to preach is far more important than preparing
-a sermon. And I think the same holds true of all giving—all
-philanthropy, for instance. What you give of yourself to the poor is
-far more than what you give from your pocketbook—and, if the truth were
-told, I believe it’s what the poor are looking for, far more than they
-are for money." The tenderness in Dr. Fletcher’s face and the slight
-quiver in his voice attested the sincerity of his feeling; they might,
-too, have afforded no little explanation of the love that all Glenallen
-felt for the humble and kindly man.
-
-Mr. Craig laughed; and that laughter was the key to his character.
-Through that wave of metallic merriment, as through a tiny pane, one
-might see into all the apartments of a cold and cheerless heart.
-
-"That’s mighty pretty, Doctor," he began jocosely; "but if I was poor
-I’d sooner have the cash—give me the turkey, and you can have the
-humanity. I believe in keeping these things separate, Dr. Fletcher," he
-went on sagaciously; "no mixin’ up business with religion, for me—of
-course, helping the poor isn’t exactly religion, but it comes mighty
-near it. And if I give anything to the poor—I used to, too, used to
-give—to give so much every year, till I found out one family that bought
-a watermelon with it, and then I thought it was about time to stop. But
-when I used to—to give to the poor, I always did it strictly as a matter
-of business; just gave so much to—to an official—and then I didn’t want
-to know how he dispensed it, or who got it, or anything about it."
-
-"Did the—the official—did he give all his time to dispensin’ it, Mr.
-Craig? Or did he just do it nights and after hours?" enquired David
-Borland, detaching his napkin from his upper bosom and scouring an
-unduly merry mouth with it the while.
-
-Mr. Craig glanced suspiciously at his guest. "I didn’t wish to know,"
-he replied loftily in a moment; "all I’m making out is the principle
-that governed me. And I always take the same stand in my
-business—always assume the same attitude towards my men," he amplified,
-as proud of his language as of his attitude. "Of all the men I’ve got
-hired, I don’t believe I know a half dozen except the foremen. I get
-their work, and they get their pay every second and fourth Tuesday—and
-that’s the end of it."
-
-"You don’t know how much you miss," the minister ventured, quite a glow
-of colour on his otherwise pallid cheek. "There’s nothing so
-interesting as human life."
-
-"You bet—that’s just it," chimed David’s robust voice; "that’s where a
-fellow gets his recreation. I don’t think I’m master of my business
-till I know somethin’ about my men—there ain’t no process, even in
-manufacturing half so interestin’ as the doin’s of folks in their own
-lives. I know lots of their wives, too, an’ half the kids—please give
-me a little more stuffin’, Mrs. Craig: it’s powerful good," and David
-passed his plate as cheerfully as his opinion.
-
-"That may be your way of taking your recreation, Mr. Borland, but it
-isn’t mine," retorted the host, obviously a little ruffled. "Business
-on business lines, that’s my motto. Just the other day a little gaffer
-asked me for work, on the plea that he wanted to fix up his mother’s
-eyes—wanted to send her to a specialist, I think—and I told him that had
-nothing to do with the case; if I wanted him I’d take him, and if I
-didn’t, nobody’s eyes could make any difference."
-
-"Was his name Harvey Simmons?" David enquired somewhat eagerly.
-
-"I believe it was. Why, what do you know about him?"
-
-"Oh, nothin’ much—only I hired him. And he isn’t goin’ to have no blind
-mother if my givin’ him work will help—that’s more. She’s got a son
-worth lookin’ at—that’s one thing sure. An’ he earned every penny I
-ever gave him, too—what was you goin’ to say, Doctor?" For he saw the
-minister had something to offer.
-
-"I know the little fellow well," said Dr. Fletcher, evidently glad of
-the opportunity. "Poor little chap, he’s had hard lines—his father was
-a slave to drink, I believe, and the poor mother has fought about as
-good a fight as I ever saw. I’m sure she carries about some burden of
-sorrow nobody knows anything about. She has two children. Well, a long
-time ago now, one of the richest couples in my church offered to adopt
-the little girl—and they got me to sound her on the subject. Goodness
-me! You should have seen the way the woman stood at bay. ’Not till the
-last crust’s gone,’ she said. She was fairly roused; ’I’m richer than
-they are,’ she said; ’I’ve got my two children, and I’ll keep them as
-long as I can lift a hand to toil for them.’ Really, I never felt more
-rebuked in my life—but I admired her more than I could tell. And the
-wee fellow raged like a little lion. ’Did he want to take sister?—tell
-him to go home, mother,’ and he was fairly shouting and stamping his
-little foot, though the tears were running down his cheeks all the
-while. I said she had two children," the minister added, "but I think
-she lost a baby through some sad accident years ago."
-
-David Borland’s eyes were glistening. "Bully for you, Doctor!" his
-voice rang through the room. "Bully for you—I knew the lad was worth
-stickin’ to. I’m proud to be mixed up with a chap like that," thumping
-the table as he spoke.
-
-"That’s what I often say to Peter," Mrs. Craig began mildly during the
-pause that followed. "I often feel what you sometimes say in your
-sermons, Doctor—that we ought all to be mixed up a little more together.
-The rich and the poor, I mean. They need us, and we need them—and we
-both have our own parts to play in the great plan."
-
-"That’s it, Mrs. Craig," David broke in lustily again; "that’s exactly
-it—last Sunday when we sang that line, ’My web of time He wove,’ I jest
-stopped singin’—it struck me, like it never done before, as how God
-Himself couldn’t weave much without us helpin’ Him—the rich an’ the
-poor—it’s Him that designs, but it’s us that has to weave. An’ I reckon
-our hands has got to touch—if they’re workin’ on the same piece," he
-concluded, drinking in the approving smile with which Dr. Fletcher was
-showing his appreciation of the quaint philosophy.
-
-A considerable silence followed, the host showing no disposition to
-break it. Cecil was the first to speak.
-
-"Harvey wears patches on his knees," he informed the company. "What is
-there for dessert, mother?"
-
-Mrs. Craig whispered the important information; the radiant son
-straightway published it to the world: "Plum pudding!—I like that—only I
-hope it has hard sauce."
-
-Which it ultimately proved to have—and to Mrs. Borland’s great dismay.
-For David, loyal to ancient ways, yet ever open to the advantage of
-modern improvement, passed back his plate for a second helping.
-
-"I used to think the kind of gravy-sauce you slashed all over it was the
-whole thing—but I believe that ointment’s got it beat," he said; whereat
-Mrs. Borland laid her spoon upon her plate, the ointment and the
-anointed untasted more.
-
-
-
-
- *VI*
-
- _*AN INVESTMENT*_
-
-
-David Borland stood quite a little while gazing at the contents of the
-window before he entered the tiny store. Rather scanty those contents
-were; a few candy figures, chiefly chocolate creations, a tawdry toy or
-two, some samples of biscuits judiciously assorted, a gaudy tinselled
-box of chewing-gum, and a flaming card that proclaimed the merits of a
-modern brand of tea.
-
-These all duly scrutinized, David pushed the door open and entered the
-humble place of business. The opening door threw a sleigh-bell,
-fastened above it, into quite an hysterical condition, and this in turn
-was answered by hurrying footsteps from the inner room. It was Harvey
-who appeared.
-
-"Good-morning, Mr. Borland," the boy said respectfully. "Did you want
-to see mother?" he enquired a little anxiously; "she’s gone to the
-market, but I think she’ll soon be back."
-
-"That’s all right, my boy," the man responded. "No, it wasn’t your
-mother I wanted; it was you—I come to do a little business."
-
-"Oh," said Harvey, glancing hopefully towards the window.
-
-"’Tain’t exactly shop business," David said, a little nervously, "I come
-to—to buy a hen," he blurted out. Harvey’s hand went like lightning into
-the glass case. Withdrawn, it produced a candy creature of many
-colours, its comb showing the damage that vandal tongues had done.
-"Totty Moore licked at it once or twice when we wasn’t lookin’," he
-explained apologetically; "it used to be in the window—it’s a settin’
-hen," he enlarged, indicating with his finger a pasty pedestal on which
-the creative process was being carried on.
-
-David grinned broadly. "’Tain’t that kind of a hen I’m wantin’," he
-said. "I want the real article—a real live two-legged hen."
-
-"Oh," said Harvey, staring hard.
-
-"Where’s your chicken-house?" enquired David, coming to business direct.
-
-"It’s outside," the boy replied instructively—"but there ain’t very
-many."
-
-"Let’s go and see them," said the man.
-
-The boy led the way, David ducking his head several times en route,
-bowing profoundly at the last as they entered the little house.
-
-"This your hennery?" he asked, surveying the inmates amid a storm of
-cackling; "sounds like you had hundreds of ’em."
-
-"Just five," said Harvey, peering towards his customer through the
-semi-darkness.
-
-"I think I’ll buy that there one on the roost," David said after due
-deliberation; "seems to be the highest-minded of the bunch."
-
-"Can’t," said Harvey, "that’s Jessie’s; it’s only got just one
-eye—that’s why Jessie wanted it. Can’t sell Jessie’s," he concluded
-firmly.
-
-David agreed. "Haven’t you got one called Pinky?" he enquired.
-
-"No," Harvey replied solemnly, "she’s dead—we had her a long, long time
-ago. I can show you her grave outside in the yard."
-
-"Never mind," said Mr. Borland; "this ain’t no day for inspectin’
-graves. I might have known she’d passed away—how long does a hen live,
-anyhow—a healthy hen?"
-
-"Depends on how they’re used," said the boy; "Pinky sneezed to death—too
-much pepper, I think. Who told you about Pinky, sir?"
-
-"Depends a good deal, too, on how often the preacher comes to dinner,
-don’t it? It was Madeline told me about Pinky—you know my girl, don’t
-you?"
-
-"Yes," and Harvey’s face was bright; "I’m awful sorry Pinky’s dead—I
-could sell you one of Pinky’s grandchildren’s children, Mr. Borland."
-
-"What?" said Mr. Borland, turning a straw about and placing the unchewed
-end in his mouth, "one of what?"
-
-"One of Pinky’s grandchildren’s children. You see, her child was
-Fluffy, and its child was Toppy—that was her grandchild; well, its child
-was Blackie—and that’s her scratchin’ her cheek with her left foot.
-She’s done scratchin’, but that’s her over there."
-
-"She’s got the Pinky blood in her all right?" asked Mr. Borland.
-
-"She’s bound to have it," the boy answered gravely; "they was all born
-right in this room; besides, I’ve got it all marked down on the door."
-
-David surveyed the descendant critically. "Does she lay brown eggs?" he
-enquired presently. "Madeline said Pinky always laid brown eggs."
-
-Harvey hesitated a moment. "They’re—they’re pretty brown," he said
-after a pause. "They mostly turn brown a little after they’re laid."
-
-"I’m terrible fond of brown eggs," remarked the purchaser.
-
-"What for?" asked Harvey, looking full into his face.
-
-"Well, really—I don’t know," and David grinned a little. "Only I always
-fancy they’re kind o’—kind o’ better done, don’t you think? Besides,"
-he added quickly, "I always like my toast brown, too—and they kind o’
-match better, you see."
-
-"Yes," said Harvey reflectively; "I never thought of that before. Of
-course, there isn’t any hen can be taught _always_ to lay them brown—I
-think Blackie tries to make them as brown as she can," glancing fondly
-at the operator as he spoke. "If you was to feed her bran, Mr. Borland,
-I think she’d get them brown nearly all the time."
-
-"That’s a thunderin’ good idea," affirmed Mr. Borland, Harvey chiming in
-with increasing assurance of success as he marked the favour with which
-his theory was received.
-
-"We’ll call it a bargain," said David.
-
-"All right," exclaimed the boy, "just wait a minute till I get a bag."
-
-"Don’t bother about that; I’ll just leave her here till I send for
-her—she’ll earn her board. But I may as well pay you now—how much is
-she worth?"
-
-The boy pondered. "I don’t hardly know—of course the brown kind comes a
-little dearer," he ventured, glancing cautiously at Mr. Borland. "She’s
-an awful well-bred hen—I can show you on the door. And she’ll eat
-anything—Jessie’s string of beads broke loose in the yard once and
-Blackie ate them all but two; that shows she’s healthy," he concluded
-earnestly.
-
-"It’s a wonder she ain’t layin’ glass alleys," remarked David. "Well,
-about the price—I’ll tell you what I’ll do with you. Here’s a bill—an’
-if she keeps on at the brown business, mebbe I’ll give you a little
-more."
-
-He handed the boy a crisp note, the lad’s hand trembling as he took it.
-He gave the door a push open that the light might fall on it. "Oh, Mr.
-Borland," he cried, in a loud, shrill voice, "I won’t—you mustn’t, you
-mustn’t. Mother wouldn’t let me—I can’t—please take it back, Mr.
-Borland," and David noticed in the fuller light that the boy was shaking
-with emotion, his face aglow with its eager excitement.
-
-"Nonsense, my lad; what you going on about? I reckon I know somethin’
-about the price of hens—especially the brown kind. No, I won’t take it
-back. She’s worth that much to me jest to keep the yard red up o’
-glass."
-
-"Oh, Mr. Borland—I wish I——"
-
-"Tut, tut," David interrupted; "boys should take what’s set before ’em,
-an’ ask no questions—an’ don’t you tell nobody now, only your mother.
-Say, isn’t that her callin’? Listen—it is, sure enough—that’s your
-mother callin’ you," and David took advantage of the interruption to
-unlatch an adjoining gate, slipping through to the outer lane, his face
-the more radiant of the two.
-
-
-
-
- *VII*
-
- *"*_*EFFECTUAL CALLING*_*"*
-
-
-"I’ll go with you as far as the door, dear—but the elders wouldn’t want
-me to come in, of course." Thus spoke Mrs. Simmons to her son as the
-little family were seated at their evening meal. Very humble it was,
-indeed, with its strawberry jam, and bread and cheese, these themselves
-carefully measured out.
-
-"Come away, Jessie; what’s keeping you?" the mother called to the outer
-kitchen.
-
-"I’ll come in a minute, mother," the child’s cheery voice replied. "I’m
-doing something," which was evident a little later when Jessie appeared,
-flushed and triumphant, bearing in one hand a little plate of
-well-browned toast, and in the other, her little fingers tingling with
-its heat, a large brown egg, evidently an unwonted luxury.
-
-"Jessie, my child, what have you been doing?" the mother asked, peering
-rather closely at the dainties the child had laid upon her plate. "Oh,
-Jessie, you shouldn’t have done it—you know we can’t afford it, dear; we
-need to sell them all," she remonstrated, affection and gratitude
-nevertheless mingling in her voice.
-
-"It was cracked, mother—it got a little fall," the child explained
-artfully.
-
-"Jessie gave it a little fall; she always gets the biggest one cracked a
-little when there isn’t much for supper—don’t you, sister?" Harvey asked
-knowingly.
-
-His sister blushed, but the reply she was struggling to provide was
-interrupted by the tinkling of the bell above the door in the little
-room without. This was a signal the mother was never slow to obey;
-customers were rare enough and must not be permitted to escape. Rising
-quickly, she made her way, her hands extended rather pitifully, to the
-little room that did duty as a store. Jessie bore the little delicacies
-back to the kitchen, lest they should cool in the interval.
-
-The mother was back again in a minute, sighing as she resumed her seat.
-
-"Did they buy anything, mother?" her son enquired.
-
-"No, nothing—they wanted something we didn’t have; I sent them to
-Ford’s," referring to a more elaborate establishment on an adjoining
-street. "I was speaking about you going to the elders’ meeting,
-Harvey—I’ll go with you as far as the church, as I said. And you
-mustn’t be afraid, son; they’ll be glad you’re going to join the church.
-And you must just answer what they ask you, the same as you do to me at
-home."
-
-"Will they ask me the catechism, mother?"
-
-"Some of the questions, most likely. Be sure you know ’effectual
-calling’—I think they nearly always ask ’effectual calling.’"
-
-"I know that one all right," the boy answered. "I said it to Jessie four
-times last night—do you think there’ll be others there to join the
-church, mother?"
-
-"I couldn’t say for sure, but it’s likely there’ll be some. I guess
-it’s almost time to go now, dear," she said rising. "Jessie, you’ll do
-the best you can if anybody comes in—I’ll not be long."
-
-"Will it be all right about—about you finding your way back, mother?"
-Harvey asked slowly, his voice full of solicitude.
-
-"Of course, child, of course—you and Jessie are growing quite foolish
-about me. I’m not so bad as that," she protested. "Why, I can tell the
-day of the month, when I stand up close to the calendar—this is the
-23d," she affirmed reassuringly, stepping out into the night with Harvey
-clinging close beside her.
-
-Neither spoke much as they walked on towards the village church. Often,
-when she thought the boy’s eyes were not upon her, the woman lifted her
-own upward to the silent stars; the night always rested her, something
-of its deep tranquillity passing into the tired heart that had known so
-much of battle. And yet the long struggle had left upon her face the
-marks of peace rather than the scars of conflict. Of merriment, there
-were traces few or none, although sufficient provocation could recall
-the old-time sparkle to the eyes that had been so often dimmed; but
-something noble was there instead, a placid beauty such as comes alone
-from resignation, born of a heart that has found its rest in a Strength
-and Tenderness which dwell beyond the hills of time. If one could have
-caught a vision of that face, upturned to the radiant sky above her, the
-glimpse would have disclosed features of shapely strength, marked by
-great patience, the eyes full of brooding gentleness and love, conscious
-of the stern battle that composed her life, but conscious, too—and this
-it was that touched the face with passion—of invisible resources, of an
-unseen Ally that mysteriously bore her on.
-
-"Let us go in here a minute," the mother said when they were almost at
-the church.
-
-Harvey followed her, unquestioning. He knew whither her feet were
-turned, for he had often followed that well-marked path before, often
-with toddling feet. They entered the quiet churchyard, passing many an
-imposing monument, threading their way with reverent steps among the
-graves, careful that no disrespect should be shown the humblest sleeper.
-On they pressed, the dew glistening upon their shoes as they walked,
-their very breathing audible amid the oppressive silence. Gradually the
-woman’s steps grew slower; and as she crept close to an unmarked grave
-that lay among the untitled mounds around it, the slender frame trembled
-slightly, drawing her poor shawl closer as she halted with downcast
-eyes, gazing at the silent sepulchre as it lay bathed in the lonely
-light of the new-risen moon. The boy stood behind her for a moment,
-then crept close to her, his hand gliding into hers; the woman’s closed
-about it passionately, its warmth stealing inward to her heart.
-
-"I think I remember when baby died," Harvey began, after they had stood
-long together by the grave; "I was asleep, wasn’t I, mother? I remember
-in the morning."
-
-"Yes, dear," said his mother, her voice tremulous; "yes, you were
-asleep—I was with baby when she died."
-
-"Was father there too, mother?"
-
-"Yes, Harvey, yes—pull that weed, dear; there, at the foot of baby’s
-grave."
-
-"Did father cry when baby died, mother?—like you did, mother?"
-
-"I don’t know, dear—yes, I think so. We’ll have to bring some fresh
-flowers soon, won’t we, Harvey?" the mother’s lips trembling.
-
-"Yes, mother, I’ll pick some pretty ones to-morrow. Did father die long
-after baby, mother?" the boy pursuing the dread subject with the strange
-persistence wherewith children so often probe a secret wound.
-
-"No, my son—yes, I mean; yes, Harvey, it was the same night, I think,"
-her nervous fingers roving about Harvey’s uncovered head.
-
-"You _think_, mother?" the tone full of surprise.
-
-"It was near the same time, Harvey," she answered hurriedly, unable to
-control her voice. "I can’t tell you now, son—some day, perhaps. But
-mother was so sorry about baby that she hardly knows—don’t ask me any
-more about it, Harvey," she suddenly pleaded; "never any more—some day
-I’ll tell you all about your father, and all you’ve asked me so often.
-But don’t ask me any more, my son—it makes mother feel bad," as she bent
-over to kiss the curious lips.
-
-He could see the tears upon his mother’s cheeks, and he inwardly
-resolved that her bidding should be done, silently wondering the while
-what this mysterious source of pain might be.
-
-After a long silence the boy’s voice was heard again: "Weren’t baby’s
-eyes shut when she died, mother?"
-
-"Yes, darling—yes, they were closed in death," and the unforgetting
-heart beat fast at the tender memory.
-
-"But they’re open now, aren’t they, mother?—and wasn’t it God that did
-it?"
-
-"Yes, Harvey, they’re open now—God opened them, I’m sure."
-
-"Couldn’t He make people see all right before they’re dead, mother?
-Couldn’t He do it for you?"
-
-"Yes, child—yes, He could if He wanted to."
-
-"And why wouldn’t He want to?" the boy asked wonderingly. "I’m sure He
-could; and I’ve been asking Him to do it for us Himself—if we couldn’t
-get the money for the doctor to do it. Wasn’t that right, mother?"
-
-The moon, high now, looked down upon the lonely pair; they stood
-together, they two, beside the unresponsive grave, the elder face bathed
-in tears, the younger unstained by grief and wistful with the eager
-trust of childhood. The insignia of poverty was upon them both, and the
-boy shivered slightly in the chill air; but the great romance and
-tragedy of life were interwoven there, love and hope and sorrow playing
-the parts they had so often played before. The woman stooped down amid
-the glistening grass and took her child into her arms, pressing him
-close to her troubled bosom, her face against his cheek, while her eyes
-roved still about his sister’s grave.
-
-"We must go on," she murmured presently. "Can you see a light in the
-church?"
-
-"Did you join when you were just a girl, mother?" the boy asked, his
-lips close to her ear.
-
-"Yes," she replied, "I was very young when I joined."
-
-"Did father ever join the church?" Harvey went on, releasing his face to
-gaze about the sleeping city.
-
-"No, dear—no, your father never was a member of the church," she said
-softly.
-
-"Wasn’t he good enough? Wouldn’t they let him?" the lad asked
-wonderingly.
-
-"They never—they never refused him," his mother faltered. "But he never
-thought he was good enough."
-
-"But he was, wasn’t he?" the boy pursued.
-
-"Yes, dear—yes, he was once—he often was. He always meant to be good;
-he loved you, Harvey. And he made me promise that some day I would tell
-you why he thought—why he thought he wasn’t good enough. He was afraid
-you might be the same; it was something he—something he couldn’t help
-very well—I’ll tell you some day, Harvey. Who’s that?" she whispered
-excitedly, pointing towards a shadowy figure that was winding its way
-silently towards them.
-
-His mother straightened up as she spoke, Harvey’s hand tight clasped in
-hers again. The figure came swiftly on.
-
-"It’s Madeline," the boy said rather excitedly. "It’s Madeline Borland—I
-guess she’s going to join too."
-
-Which proved indeed to be the case. "I knew it was you," the girl
-began, almost breathless as she came up to them. "The beadle said it
-was you, Harvey; Julia walked to the church with me, and she’s waiting
-till I join. I thought perhaps we might go in together; I don’t want to
-go in alone." Harvey could see in the dim light how eagerly the girl’s
-eyes were searching his mother’s face. He did not withdraw his hand,
-but unconsciously straightened himself in quiet dignity.
-
-"This is my mother," he said simply, quite unfamiliar with the modes of
-introduction; "and that’s Miss Borland, mother."
-
-"Please don’t say that," the girl interrupted. "I think you might call
-me Madeline; anyhow, I heard you call me Madeline to your mother," as
-she stepped gently around the foot of the grave and extended her hand to
-Harvey’s mother. The older woman was evidently struck by the girl’s
-beauty, by the simple grace and kindliness of her manner. At any rate
-she held the outstretched hand rather long in hers, gazing on the sweet
-face upturned in the quivering light.
-
-"And this—this is my sister’s grave," Harvey’s subdued voice added a
-moment later.
-
-The girl said nothing, turning a solemn gaze upon the lowly mound. She
-had been long familiar with the quiet acre, but this was perhaps the
-first time she had realized the dread personality that clothes the grave
-with dignity.
-
-"You haven’t any treasure here, have you, Miss Madeline?" the mother
-asked timidly, when the pause had become almost painful.
-
-"No, not any," the girl answered in hushed tones; "we haven’t even got a
-plot—I never had a little sister," she affirmed, the moistening eyes
-turning now to Harvey’s face. He looked down, then up again, and the
-soulful gaze was still fixed upon him. A kind of wave, strange and
-unfamiliar, seemed to bathe his soul; he did not wish to look longer,
-and yet a sort of spell seemed to keep his eyes fastened on her face.
-The girl’s look was eloquent of much that neither he nor she was able to
-interpret, the first venture out to sea on the part of either soul.
-
-"Doesn’t it seem strange that we should meet here—here at your sister’s
-grave," she said slowly, after the gaze of both had fallen. "Of course,
-we’ve often seen each other at school—but this is our first real
-meeting, isn’t it?" she went on, gazing now towards the light that
-twinkled feebly in the distant church.
-
-"Yes," he answered simply, "yes, it is—I guess we’d better go. Do you
-know the catechism?" he digressed, beginning to move forward, half
-leading his mother by the hand.
-
-"No, I don’t. Father doesn’t believe in catechisms,—I wanted him to
-join along with me, but he said he wasn’t good enough. Only he said
-he’d see—it would be just like him to come without my knowing."
-
-"That’s what my father said," Harvey interjected quickly; "and my mother
-says he was often good—only of course it’s too late now," a little sigh
-escaping with the words.
-
-"Perhaps they join them in heaven," the girl suggested in an awestruck
-voice. "Father says that’s where the real joining’s done; if your
-father was good, I’m sure they’d join him," she concluded earnestly,
-looking into both the serious faces as she spoke.
-
-"Don’t you think maybe they would, mother?" pleaded the boy. The habit
-of a lifetime committed everything to the mother for final judgment.
-
-"That’s in God’s hands, dear," the delicate face glancing upward through
-the mist. "I’m sure God would do it if He could—we’d better hurry on;
-they’ll be waiting for us in the church."
-
-The little procession wound its way back to the humble temple, Harvey
-still holding his mother by the hand, Madeline following close behind.
-And the shadowy home of the little child was left alone in the silence
-and the dark.
-
-The youthful pair disappeared within the ivy-grown door. The mother,
-her dim eyes still more dimmed by tears, turned upon her homeward way, a
-troubled expression on her face. Why had she not told him more, she
-wondered to herself—something about his father, and the cruel appetite
-that had been his shame and his undoing? And her lips moved in
-trembling prayer that God would save her son from the blight of his
-father’s life, that the dread heritage might never wrap his life in the
-same lurid flame.
-
-
-
-
- *VIII*
-
- _*OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM*_
-
-
-The predominant national type among the Glenallen folks was Scotch, and
-that distinctly. David Borland was one of the few exceptions; and the
-good folk about him had varied explanations for the baffling fact that
-he, American-bred though he was, had been one of the most prosperous men
-of the community. Some maintained that his remote ancestry must have
-come from the land o’ cakes, even though he himself were oblivious to
-heaven’s far-off goodness. Others contended that his long association
-with a Scottish neighbourhood had inoculated him with something of their
-distinctive power; while the profounder minds acknowledged frankly that
-the ways of Providence were mysterious, and that this lonely spectacle
-of an alien mortal, handicapped from birth and yet rising to affluence
-and distinction, was but an evidence of the Omnipotence that had wrought
-the miracle.
-
-But if, in matters temporal, the historic Scotch stock of Glenallen had
-been compelled to divide the spoil with those of lesser origin, the
-control of affairs ecclesiastical was carefully reserved for Scottish
-hands alone. This went without saying. Over every door of church
-officialdom, and especially of the eldership, he who ran might read: "No
-Irish need apply,"—and the restriction included all to whom heaven had
-denied the separate advantage of Scottish birth or ancestry.
-
-Wherefore it came about that the assembled elders who on this particular
-night awaited the arrival of applicants for church-membership were about
-as formidable to look upon as any half dozen of mere men could be. The
-dignity of their office filled the little room and the sense of
-responsibility sat gravely on every face. Two there were among them,
-newly elected to the office—the highest office in the gift of their
-fellow-men—and these two were fairly dripping with new-born solemnity.
-The older men, relaxing with the years, had discarded some of the sombre
-drapery that the newer elders wrapt about them with pious satisfaction.
-
-Æneas Ramsay, one of the veterans, had ventured to ask one of the newly
-ordained if they would finish the threshing at his farm to-morrow. The
-question was put before the meeting had well begun, and was whispered in
-the ear at that; but the shock was easily seen on the new elder’s face,
-who, recovering in a moment, informed his senior that they would discuss
-the matter after the "sederunt" was adjourned. Which purely
-Presbyterian term rolled from his lips with the luxurious unction known
-to Presbyterian elders, and to them alone.
-
-The Session had been constituted, and good old Sandy McKerracher had led
-in prayer, the other elders standing through the exercise. Most of them
-had one foot upon a chair, the elbow resting on the knee and the chin
-upon the hand, before Sandy had concluded. In fact, the precaution of
-an adjoining chair was seldom overlooked by any when the Moderator named
-Sandy for this solemn duty, his staying powers famous for fifty years.
-The chief emphasis of his prayer was laid on the appeal to Infinite Love
-that none of the intending communicants might eat and drink damnation to
-themselves. This was a favourite request with all of them on such
-occasions—excepting one elder, and good Dr. Fletcher himself—and it was
-largely because of this that the Moderator was wont to see the Session
-constituted before the candidates were admitted to the room.
-
-"There’s some bringin’ their lines frae ither kirks," Robert MaCaig
-began, when the Moderator asked if there were any candidates for
-membership, "but there’s nae mair nor twa to join on profession o’
-faith," he added, turning a despondent eye upon his brother elders. "We
-used to hae a dizzen or mair."
-
-"Twa souls is an awfu’ lot, Robert—twa never dyin’ souls!" It was
-Geordie Nickle who sounded the hopeful note. He was the saintliest
-elder of them all, and the saintliest are the sanguinest. "We maun be
-thankfu’ for twa mair to own the Saviour’s name," he added reverently.
-
-"But they’re only bairns," Robert urged; "there’s no’ a muckle man among
-them."
-
-"That’s a’ the better," returned Geordie; "the Maister was aye glad to
-hae the bairns come—ca’ them in," he said, the slightest note of
-impatience in his voice.
-
-A moment later Harvey and Madeline were ushered in, very shy and
-embarrassed, their downcast eyes fluttering upwards now and then to the
-stern faces fixed upon them.
-
-There was considerable skirmishing of a preliminary sort, the elders’
-questions booming out solemnly like minute guns. Suddenly Robert McCaig
-proceeded to business.
-
-"We’ll tak a rin ower the fundamentals," he said, brandishing the
-age-worn term as though he had just invented it. "What is original
-sin?" he demanded; "tell the Moderator what’s original sin."
-
-"The Moderator kens fine himsel’," Andrew Fummerton whispered to the
-elder at his right, smiling grimly. But the man beside him scarcely
-heard, for every mind was intent with the process under way; scores of
-times had they witnessed it before, but it was again as new and
-absorbing as the prowess of a fisherman landing his reluctant prize.
-
-There was a long silence, still as death. Suddenly Willie Gillespie
-fell to sneezing; he it was at whose farm the threshers had been that
-day, and who had been profanely questioned by Æneas Ramsay, as already
-told. Perhaps it was the day’s dust that provoked the outburst; but,
-from whatever cause, the explosion was remarkable in its power and
-duration, one detonation following another with heightening tumult till
-the final booming was worthy of the noblest efforts of modern artillery.
-As the bombardment increased in power, the elders unconsciously braced
-themselves a little on their chairs, dismayed at the unseemly outbreak,
-considering the place and the occasion.
-
-Harvey, for the life of him, could not forbear to smile; this human
-symptom was reassuring to him amid the statuesque solemnity of the
-room—it made original sin less ghostly, somehow, and he looked almost
-gratefully at the dynamic Willie. This latter worthy, recoiling like a
-smoking cannon, groped frankly for his nose as if apprehensive that it
-had been discharged; finding it uninjured, he repaired hastily to the
-tail pocket of a black coat that had sustained the dignity of a previous
-generation in the eldership, extracting therefrom a lurid
-pocket-handkerchief—that is, originally lurid—but now as variously
-bedecked as though the threshers had enjoyed its common ministry that
-day. Whereupon there ensued a succession of reports, inferior only to
-their mighty predecessors themselves, resembling nothing so much as the
-desultory firing that succeeds the main attack.
-
-"Ye was askin’ what might be original sin," Willie murmured
-apologetically from behind the faithful handkerchief, swishing it back
-and forward on his nose the while as though he were polishing the
-knocker on a door; he glanced apologetically towards Mr. McCaig as he
-spoke, anxious to repair the connection he had so violently disturbed.
-
-"If my memory serves me," Robert returned severely, "if my memory serves
-me, that is what we was dealin’ wi’—order’s a graun’ thing at a meetin’
-o’ sic a kind as this," he added sternly, his gaze following the
-disappearing banner now being reëntombed.
-
-"What is original sin, laddie? Mebbe the lassie can gie me the answer,"
-he suggested, Harvey’s silence impressing him as incurable.
-
-"I’m not very sure," faltered Madeline—"was it the kind at the
-beginning?"
-
-Robert McCaig had no desire to be unnecessarily severe; therefore turned
-enquiringly to his colleagues, implying that the verdict lay with them.
-
-"Very good, child, very good," Dr. Fletcher said approvingly. "It’s
-very hard to answer Mr. McCaig’s question—he’d find it difficult enough
-himself. What is it, Harvey?" he asked, smiling at the boy, who seemed
-to have an idea ready.
-
-"I’m not very sure either; but isn’t it—isn’t it the kind that doesn’t
-wear off?" the lad ventured timidly, rather ashamed of the description
-after it was finished.
-
-"Capital, my boy; first-rate!" the minister cried delightedly. "That’s
-better than anything I learned in college. I don’t believe any one
-could get much nearer to it than that—now we’ll just pass from this,"
-smiling around at the elders as he made the suggestion; "there are other
-things more important—has any of the elders anything else to ask?"
-
-It was not long before two or three of them were in full cry again.
-Stern questions, weighty interrogatives, suggestive of the deepest
-mysteries, were propounded to the youthful pair as complacently as
-though they were being asked how many pints make a gallon. One wanted
-to know their view of the origin of evil, following this by a suggestion
-that they should each give a brief statement of the doctrine of the
-Trinity. Another urged that they should describe in brief the process
-of regeneration. Still another asked if they could repeat the books of
-the Bible backwards—any one, he said, could do it the old way—and one
-good elder capped the climax by saying he would like to hear them tell
-how to reconcile the free agency of man with the sovereignty of God.
-
-But just at this juncture Geordie Nickle rose, his face beaming with
-tenderness, and addressed the chair.
-
-"They’re fashin’ the bairns, Moderator," he said gently. "Wull ye no’
-let me pit a wee bit question or twa till them mysel’?"
-
-The Moderator was evidently but too well pleased, and his nod gave
-Geordie the right of way. The old man moved to where Harvey and
-Madeline were seated, taking his stand partially behind them, his hands
-resting gently on the heads of both.
-
-"I mind fine the nicht I joined the kirk mysel’," he began; "it was the
-winter my mither gaed awa, an’ I think God answered her prayer, to mak
-her glad afore she went—but the elders askit me some o’ thae vera
-questions—an’ I kent then hoo far they was frae the soul," he said
-gravely, looking compassionately on the faces now upturned to his own.
-"Sae I’m juist gaein’ to ask ye what I was wishin’ they’d ask frae me.
-Div ye no’ love the Saviour, lassie—and div ye no’ ken He’s the son o’
-God?" he asked reverently, tenderly. "Div ye no’ ken that, lassie?—an’
-the same wi’ yirsel’, my laddie?—I’m sure ye’re baith trustin’ Him, to
-the savin’ o’ the soul; are ye no’, bairnies?" and the old man’s face
-shone as the great truth kindled his own simple soul.
-
-Harvey and Madeline nodded eager assent, a muffled affirmative breaking
-from their lips.
-
-"An’ ye ken the Saicrament’s juist the meetin’-place where He breaks
-bread wi’ His children, and where they say, afore a’ the folk, that they
-love Him, and trust Him, an’ want to be aye leal an’ true till Him, and
-show forth His death till He come—div ye no’ ken it that way?" the
-kindly voice went on, his hands still resting on the youthful heads.
-
-Harvey answered first: "That’s what I’d like to be—that’s what I want to
-do," he said simply.
-
-"I want to, too—I’m the same as Harvey," Madeline faltered sweetly.
-
-Then Geordie Nickle straightened himself and turned towards Dr.
-Fletcher. "Moderator," he said earnestly, "we canna mak the way mair
-open nor the Maister made it; an’ I move that these twa be received
-intil full communion, an’ their names—the Clerk kens what they are—be
-added to the roll o’ communicants in good standin’ i’ the kirk."
-
-This was carried without further protest and ordered to be done
-forthwith.
-
-
-
-
- *IX*
-
- _*A BELATED ENQUIRER*_
-
-
-The youthful candidates had hardly left the room when the beadle,
-compared with whose solemnity the gravity of the elders was frivolity
-itself, announced that a further candidate was in waiting.
-
-"It’s Mr. Borland," he said in an awed whisper—"Mr. David Borland. He
-wants to jine, Mr. Moderator," the beadle informed the court in much the
-same tone as is employed when death-warrants must be read. "An’ it’ll
-be on profession," he added, unable to forego the sensational
-announcement, "for he never jined no church afore." Then the beadle
-retreated with the mien that becomes an ecclesiastical sheriff.
-
-An instant later he reappeared with Mr. Borland, whom he left standing
-in the very centre of the room. The elders gazed wonderingly at the
-unexpected man.
-
-"Dinna break oot again," Robert McCaig whispered to the now tranquil
-Willie, fearful of another explosion; "it’s no’ often a kirk session has
-sic a duty to perform," and Willie responded by rising slightly and
-sitting down hard upon the contents of his coat-tail pocket, as though
-the fuse for the explosion were secreted there.
-
-David looked round upon the elders, in no wise abashed; he even nodded
-familiarly to two or three with whom he was more intimately acquainted.
-"It’s a fine evening," he informed one nearest him, to the evident
-amazement of his brethren.
-
-The usual process began, one or two undertaking preliminary examination.
-
-"Have you ever joined before, Mr. Borland?" one of the elders asked him
-after a little.
-
-"Never joined a church before—haven’t been much of a joiner," David
-answered cheerfully; "joined the Elks once in the States when I was a
-young fellow—an’ they made it pretty interestin’ for me," dispensing a
-conciliatory smile among the startled elders as he turned to catch
-another question.
-
-"What maks ye want to join, Mr. Borland?" enquired one of the new
-elders, hitherto silent. "What’s yir motive, like? Hae ye got the root
-o’ the matter in ye, div ye think?" he elaborated formally.
-
-David started somewhat violently, turning and looking his questioner
-full in the face. "Have I got what in me?" he cried—"what kind of a
-root? That’s more than I can say, sir; I don’t catch your meanin’."
-
-Dr. Fletcher interposed. "You’re not familiar with our terms, Mr.
-Borland," he said reassuringly. "Mr. Aiken only wants to know why you
-feel impelled to become a member of the church—perhaps you could answer
-the question when it’s put that way?"
-
-David’s first sign of answer was to stoop and pick up a rather shapeless
-hat lying at his feet. This symptom decidedly alarmed the elders,
-several of them sitting up suddenly in their chairs as though fearful
-that so interesting a subject might escape. But David had evidently
-seized it only for purposes of reflection, turning it round and round in
-his hands, his eyes fixed upon the floor.
-
-"It was a queer kind of a reason," he began abruptly, clearing his
-throat with all the resonance of a trumpet—"but mebbe it ain’t too bad a
-one after all. It was Madeline," he finally blurted out, staring at all
-the brethren in turn. "I knew she was goin’ to join—an’—an’ I wanted to
-keep up with her. If she’s agoin’ to heaven, I’m agoin’ too—an’ I
-reckon this here’s the way," he added, feeling that the phraseology was
-not too ill-timed. Then he waited.
-
-"Very good, Mr. Borland—very good," the Moderator pronounced
-encouragingly. "But about—about your own soul. I’m sure we all hope
-you—you—realize your need, Mr. Borland. It’s a sense of sin we all
-need, you know. I’m sure you feel you’ve been a sinner, Mr. Borland?"
-and the good man turned the most brotherly of faces upon the applicant.
-
-"Oh, yes," responded David agreeably; "oh, yes, I’m all right that
-way—I’ve been quite a sinner, all right. The only thing I’m afeart of
-is I’ve been ’most too good a sinner. I wisht I wasn’t quite so handy
-at it," he went on gravely. "I reckon I’ve been about as bad as—as any
-of the deacons here," glancing towards the open-mouthed about him as he
-made the comparison, "an’ some o’ them’s got quite a record, if all
-reports is true. I traded horses onct with Robert there," nodding
-familiarly in the direction of Mr. McCaig, "an’ the first time we
-traded, he sinned pretty bad—but that’s nothin’; bygones is bygones—an’
-anyhow, the second time we traded, I sinned pretty bad myself. So I’m
-all right that way, Doctor," he again assured the Moderator, making a
-last desperate effort to tie his hat into a knot.
-
-"I didna ken the mare was spavined, Moderator," Mr. McCaig broke in,
-gasping with emotion; "an’ a meetin’ o’ session’s no place for
-discussin’ sic like matters onyway," he appealed vehemently. "Thae
-week-day things has nae richt to be mentioned here—a meetin’ o’ elders
-is no’ a cattle fair," and Robert looked well pleased with this final
-stroke.
-
-"That’s all right, Robert, that’s all right," David returned in his most
-amiable tone; "don’t get excited, Robert—we both traded with our eyes
-open. An’ all these things makes life, anyhow—they all go to the weavin’
-of the web, as I say sometimes, an’ besides——"
-
-But Robert’s blood was up.
-
-"Onyhow, I didna swear," he exclaimed in a rising tone; "I didna say
-damn, Mr. Moderator—an’ the horse-doctor tellt me as how the candidate
-afore us said damn mair nor aince when he found oot aboot the spavin.
-He’d mak a bonnie member o’ the kirk!" and the elder’s face glowed with
-righteous indignation.
-
-The Moderator cast about to avert the storm. "Maybe he was taken
-unawares," he interposed charitably; "any one might be overtaken in a
-fault. Did you, Mr. Borland—did you say what Mr. McCaig says you did?"
-as he turned a very kindly face on the accused.
-
-David was more intently employed than ever with his hat. "I won’t say
-but what I mebbe did," he acknowledged, an unfamiliar confusion in his
-words. "You see, sir, I should a knowed a spavin when I seen it; the
-signs is awful easy told—an’ that’s what made me mad. So I said I was a
-fool—an’ I said Robert here was an elder. An’ I likely said both of us
-was—was that kind of a fool an’ an elder, the kind he says I said—it’s
-an awful handy describin’ word," he added, nodding respectfully towards
-the Moderator’s chair.
-
-"So I have heard, Mr. Borland," the Moderator replied, smiling
-reproachfully nevertheless, "though I think there are others just as
-good. However, if that is the worst sin you’ve been guilty of, I
-wouldn’t say you’re beyond the pale."
-
-"Oh, there’s lots of things I’ve done, far worse than that," David
-exclaimed vigorously. "I don’t allow that’s a sin at all—that’s just a
-kind of a spark out o’ the chimney. I reckon nearly everybody, even
-ministers, says that—only they don’t spell it just the same. I’d call
-that just a kind of splutter—an’ everybody splutters sometimes. Robert
-there, he says ’bless my soul’ when he gets beat on a trade—but he means
-just the same as me. Oh, yes," he went cheerfully on, "there’s lots o’
-worse things than that against me. There’s lots o’ little weak spots
-about me; an’ I’ll tell them if you like—if the deacons’ll do the same,"
-he proposed, looking earnestly around for volunteers.
-
-There was no clamour of response, and it fell to Geordie Nickle again to
-break the silence.
-
-"These is no’ the main things, David," he began solemnly. "Tell us, div
-ye trust the Saviour wi’ yir soul?"
-
-David halted, the gravity of the question shading his face. "I think—I
-think I do," he ventured after a long pause. "I wouldn’t trust it to no
-one else. My mother taught me that."
-
-"An’ div ye want to follow Him, an’ to let yir licht shine upon the
-world? Div ye want to be a guid soldier, an’ wull ye try it, wi’ His
-grace?" the old man asked tenderly.
-
-David’s voice was very low. "I’m not very far on the road," he said
-falteringly, "an’ I’m afeared there ain’t much light in me—but I’d try
-an’ do my best," he concluded earnestly.
-
-The venerable elder proceeded with his gentle art, leading the belated
-enquirer on from stage to stage, seeking to discover and disclose the
-hidden treasures of the soul. He was never slow to be convinced of
-goodness in any heart that he thought sincere, and it was not long till
-he turned to the Moderator, proposing, as before, that this new name
-should likewise be enrolled among those of the faithful.
-
-But one or two thought the examination hardly doctrinal enough, nor
-carried sufficiently far afield.
-
-"Perhaps Mr. Borland would give us a word or two regarding his views on
-the subject of temperance," suggested Morris Hall. He was a
-comparatively modern elder; in fact, he had been but recently reclaimed,
-one of the first-fruits of a spring revival, himself snatched from the
-vortex of intemperance and correspondingly severe upon all successors in
-his folly. For largeness of charity, as a rule, is to be found only
-with those who have been tempted and prevailed.
-
-"I’m not terrible well up on temperance," David began placidly; "but I
-don’t mind givin’ you my views—oh, no, not at all."
-
-Then he sank into silence, and the Moderator had finally to prompt him.
-"Very well, then, Mr. Borland, give us your views on the subject."
-
-"Well," David began hesitatingly, "my views on the subject of temperance
-is terrible simple. I really hardly ever take anything—never touch it
-at all except it’s before or after meals," he assured the brethren
-earnestly, the younger men frowning a little, one or two of the older
-nodding approvingly. But none seemed to remark how generous was the
-margin this time-table provided for a man of moist propensities.
-
-"Sometimes, when I run acrost an old friend, if he looks kind o’ petered
-out," David went on sympathetically, "sometimes then I have a view or
-two—most always soft stuff, though," he enlarged, looking hopefully
-towards his spiritual betters; "most generally they takes the same view
-as me," he informed them gravely; "my view is to take it an’ let it
-alone—I do both—only I never do them both at the same time," he added
-seriously. "You see, when I’m well it doesn’t hurt me, and when I’m
-sick—why, mebbe I need somethin’. That’s one o’ my views. An’, oh,
-yes"—he hurried on as if glad that he had not forgotten, "I always take
-a little when a new century comes in—I took a little when the clock
-struck 1900; it’s been a custom for quite awhile in our family, always
-to take a little when a new century comes in—a man has to be careful it
-doesn’t grow on him, you see. So I confine it pretty much to them two
-occasions. An’ I think them’s pretty much all my views, gentlemen, on
-the subject o’ liquors. The less views a man has on them, the better.
-It’s the worst plague there is—an’ I’m gettin’ more set agin’ it all the
-time," and David nodded to the elders in quite an admonitory way.
-
-But these views, simple and candid though they were, were far from
-satisfactory to Mr. Morris Hall, who violently declaimed against such
-laxity, and quoted statistics concerning poorhouses, jails and lunatic
-asylums in much the same tone, and with the same facility, that a boy
-exhibits when quoting the multiplication table. Mr. Hall concluded with
-an appeal to David’s sense of shame.
-
-This was rather much for the gentle candidate, familiar as he was with
-the impeacher’s record in days that were yet hardly dry.
-
-"There’s one thing sure, anyhow," he returned hotly, in his intensity of
-feeling. "I didn’t never have to be toted home on a stone-boat—that’s
-one thing certain." This was a reference to authentic history of no
-ancient sort, and Mr. Hall’s relapse to silence was as final as it was
-precipitate.
-
-Whereupon Geordie Nickle again reverted to his motion that Mr. Borland
-be received. He briefly reviewed the case, emphasizing the obvious
-simplicity and candour that had been remarked by all, while admitting
-David’s evident unfamiliarity with the formulas and doctrines of the
-church.
-
-"But there’s mony a man loves flowers wha disna ken naethin’ aboot
-botany," he pleaded; "an’ there’s mony a soul luvin’ Christ, an’
-trustin’ till Him, wha kens little or naethin’ aboot theology."
-
-This view seemed to prevail with the majority, and the proposal of the
-kindly elder would doubtless have been speedily endorsed, had it not
-been for the protest from David himself. "I’m terrible thankful for
-your kindness to a lame duck like me—but I believe I’d jest as soon wait
-awhile," he said. "I’ll try an’ follow up the best I can. But Dick
-Phin’s comin’ to visit me next week—Dick’s an old crony I haven’t seen
-for a dog’s age. An’ besides, Robert there has kind o’ set me thinkin’;
-an’ I jest minded Tom Taylor’s comin’ on Monday to try an’ trade back
-the three-year-old he got in August. So I think mebbe I’d better wait.
-But I’ll follow up the best I can."
-
-
-
-
- *X*
-
- _*SHELTERING SHADOWS*_
-
-
-Two chestnut steeds, securely tied, looked reproachfully at the
-retreating figures as Madeline and her father pressed on beneath the
-shadow of the great oaks that looked down upon the merry picnickers.
-For Glenallen’s Sunday-school scholars were _en fête_ beneath them.
-Very gladly did these mighty guardians of the grove seem to welcome back
-the happy throng as each returning summer brought the festal day. And
-very tenderly did they seem to look down upon the varied
-pleasure-seekers that gathered beneath their whispering branches;
-children, in all the helplessness of childhood, mingling with other
-toddlers whose was the helplessness of age—little tots whose toilsome
-journey was at hand, and patriarchs whose weary pilgrimage was almost
-past. Many were there whose fathers’ fathers, snatching a brief truce
-from their struggle with the poverty and stress of early days, had
-rested and rollicked as only pioneers know how; masters and men, their
-respective ranks forgotten, had sat side by side about the teeming
-board, or entered the lists together as they flung the bounding caber,
-or raced across the meadow-sward, or heaved the gleaming quoits, or
-strained the creaking cable in the final and glorious tug of war.
-
-As David Borland and his daughter drew near to the central group of
-picnickers, they found them employed in a very savoury task. They were
-emptying the baskets one by one, the good things translated
-promiscuously to the ample table around which all were about to take
-their places. Pies of every sort there were, cakes of every imaginable
-brand and magnitude, sandwiches, fruits, pickles, hams that would
-waddle, fowls that would cackle, tongues that would join the lowing
-choir, nevermore—all these conspired to swell the overflowing larder.
-
-Suddenly David’s eyes fell on a face in the distance, a face for which
-he had long had a peculiar liking. It was Geordie Nickle’s, the old man
-sitting apart on a little mound, his kindly eyes bright with gladness at
-the lively scene around him.
-
-"You go off an’ have a swing, Madeline," he said; "I’m goin’ to have a
-chat with my friend Geordie here—I’ll see you in a little while."
-
-Madeline scarcely heard him nor did any response escape her lips. For
-other words had fallen on her ears, hot and tingling now with shame and
-indignation.
-
-"Isn’t this the limit," a jibing voice was saying; "isn’t this the human
-limit?—rhubarb tarts! Three of them! Who wants to buy a tin plate?"
-the voice went jeeringly on. It was Cecil Craig’s voice, and he held
-the humble contributions aloft as he spoke.
-
-"There must be some awful rich folks here to-day—I guess these tarts are
-meant for the minister. That’s all there is in the basket—so I guess
-some one must keep a rhubarb farm; look at the size of them—big as a
-full moon! I believe I’ll give them to my horse," he cried with a
-contemptuous laugh. "Have you any idea who sent these, Harvey?" turning
-with the question to the conscious boy who stood on the outer edge of
-the circle.
-
-A few joined in thoughtless laughter. But it was no laughing matter for
-poor Harvey, trying now to steal alone and unnoticed from among the
-throng. Yet not alone; for one humble little form clung close beside
-him, retreating as rapidly as he, her face flushed and drawn. They had
-taken but a few steps when Jessie’s hand stole caressingly into her
-brother’s, the little legs trying eagerly to keep pace with his ardent
-stride.
-
-"Don’t mind, Harvey, don’t mind," she said soothingly. "He’s just as
-mean as he can be. It’s all because he’s rich—an’ he thinks we’re poor.
-He doesn’t know how good mother is at makin’ tarts, or he wouldn’t talk
-like that."
-
-Harvey glanced at his sister as though he scarcely saw her. His eyes,
-usually so mild, were now almost terrible in their fiery anger, and his
-hand closed so tightly over his sister’s that she cried out in pain.
-Once he looked swiftly back and caught a glimpse of Cecil leering at him
-in the distance; he fixed his teeth tight together and strode swiftly
-on.
-
-"Aren’t you goin’ back, Harvey?" Jessie enquired a little wistfully.
-"I’m real hungry, Harvey—an’ I saw chickens there, an’ there was some
-peaches too—they looked awful nice," she said earnestly.
-
-"Going back!" Harvey almost shouted. "No, you bet I’m not going
-back—and neither are you; I’d starve before I’d touch a bite of their
-stuff. A lot of stuck-up things," he cried passionately, "and you and
-me cast out everywhere because we’re poor! I’ll show them yet—you just
-see if I don’t; if I can get half a chance—and to think the way poor
-mother worked at them, and she thought she was making something real
-nice too, and——"
-
-"An’ she put sugar in them too, Harvey—an’ she hardly ever puts sugar in
-anything now. She put lots of butter an’ sugar in, for I saw her. But
-ain’t you goin’ back, Harvey?—there’s lemonade, you know, a whole boiler
-full of it. I tasted it and it was lovely," she assured him, looking
-wistfully up into the angry face.
-
-"The young whelp!" Harvey muttered wrathfully; "hasn’t any more brains
-than a handspike—hasn’t got anything but a rich, proud father—I’ll fix
-him yet, you see if I don’t." Suddenly he stopped, standing still as
-the trees around him. "Hello!" he said musingly, then began whistling
-significantly.
-
-"What’s the matter, Harvey?" asked the mystified Jessie.
-
-"Oh, nothing—nothing at all. In fact, everything’s all right—see that
-sorrel horse tied to that hemlock over there? It’s Cecil Craig’s."
-
-"Yes," replied Jessie wonderingly; "it’s kickin’ with its legs," she
-added informatively—"what’s it doin’ that for, Harvey?"
-
-"Flies," replied the other absently. "I say, Jessie," he began in quite
-a different tone, his brow clearing like a headland when the fog is
-lifting, "you better go on back and get your dinner—don’t eat too much,"
-he added cautiously, for Jessie, her hand still tight in his, had
-already turned right about face, her radiant gaze fixed on the distant
-tables; "and you know mother doesn’t want you to take any
-stuffin’—you’ll have to take castor oil if you eat any stuffin’,
-Jessie."
-
-"Won’t you go, Harvey?" his sister asked eagerly, supremely indifferent
-to matters medicinal; she was already pressing onward, half leading her
-brother by the hand. The boy started to refuse vigorously. Suddenly,
-however, he seemed to change his mind. "I’ll go back with you for a
-minute, Jessie—just a minute, mind. I’ll get you a seat if I can; but
-I’ll have to come right away again. I’ve got—I’ve got to do something."
-
-The hungry Jessie asked no further information, well content, poor
-child, to regain the treat she had so nearly lost. Her hurrying legs
-twinkled in the sun as she led the way, Harvey following, half
-reluctantly, back to the appetizing scene. The boy looked at no one as
-he mingled with the excited throng; nor did many remark his return, so
-all absorbed are youthful minds in one pursuit alone when that pursuit
-leads to the dinner-table. This pleased Harvey well; and, confident of
-their indifference, he took his place beside the three bulky tarts that
-had been the text for Cecil’s scorn.
-
-Good Dr. Fletcher’s special care, at such a fête as this, was to see
-that all heads were reverently bowed while grace was being said. And so
-they were on this occasion, all but Harvey’s. Availing himself of the
-opportune devotion, he thrust the unoffending tarts roughly within the
-shelter of his coat, buttoning it tightly over them, quite careless of
-results. Then, wild chaos and savage attack succeeding the reverent
-calm, while his ravenous companions fell upon the viands like starving
-animals, he quietly withdrew, holding his coat carefully about him as he
-went.
-
-
-David Borland and the venerable Geordie Nickle were deep in conversation
-as Harvey passed them by at a little distance, finding his way back to
-the outer fringe of woods.
-
-"Yon’s an uncommon laddie," Geordie remarked to David, his staff pointed
-in the direction of the disappearing boy.
-
-"Who? Oh, yes—that’s Harvey. You’re right, Mr. Nickle; the grass
-doesn’t grow very green under Harvey’s feet. He works for me, you
-know—does a little drivin’ between four and six."
-
-"Did ye hear aboot the minister, David? He was sair vexed wi’ Mr.
-Craig; he went till him, ye ken, to get a wee bit help for the laddie’s
-mither—her eyesicht’s failin’, it seems. An’ Mr. Craig wudna gie him
-onythin’."
-
-David was busy kicking to pieces a slab of dead wood at his feet. "That
-man Craig makes me mad," he said warmly—"thinks he owns the earth ’cause
-he’s got a little money. He got the most of it from his father,
-anyhow—he hasn’t got brains enough himself to make his head ache. An’
-it looks like the young cub’s goin’ to be a chip o’ the old block; you
-can see it stickin’ right out of him now," he declared, nodding towards
-the blustering Cecil, who was flinging his orders here and there.
-
-"I was thinkin’ ower the maitter, David," the old man went on quietly;
-"I was thinkin’ mebbe I micht gie the puir buddy a wee bit help mysel’—I
-hae a wee bit siller, ye ken, an’ I haena vera muckle to dae wi’t. Div
-ye think ye cud see aboot it, David?—aboot sendin’ his mither till the
-city doctor, ye ken? I cud gie the money to yirsel’, an’ naebody need
-ken aboot it but us twa." Poor Geordie looked half ashamed as he made
-the offer; such is the fashion of his kind.
-
-"It’s mighty clever of you," David answered, smiling a little curiously,
-"and I’d be terrible glad to fix it for you—only I happen to know it’s
-fixed already. Just found that out to-day. A fellow sent the money to
-them—some fellow that doesn’t want any one to know. But it’s just as
-good of you, all the same, Mr. Nickle."
-
-"Oh, aye, aye, I ken," Geordie responded enigmatically, "aye—juist
-that."
-
-"Yes, he’s a mighty smart boy," David resumed quickly, to hide a little
-embarrassment. "He works like a beaver all day; steady as a clock and
-bright as a dollar. It’s a darned shame he hasn’t got a better
-chance—that boy’d be heard from yet if he got some eddication," he
-concluded, opening the big blade of his jack-knife and beginning
-operations on a leafy limb he had just broken off.
-
-Geordie’s face was full of sympathetic interest. "Div ye ken, David,
-I’ve been thinkin’ the same aboot the laddie. Dr. Fletcher tellt me
-aboot him first—an’ I’ve been enquirin’, an’ watchin’ him a wee bit in a
-canny kind o’ a way, since the nicht he jined the kirk. An’ I’ve got a
-wee bit plan, David—I’ve got a wee bit plan."
-
-"Yes, Mr. Nickle?" David responded encouragingly, throwing away the
-leafy limb and sitting squarely round.
-
-"It’s no’ quite a fittin’ time to mak ony promises," the cautious
-Scotchman went on, seeing that David expected him to continue. "But ye
-ken, David, I hae neither wife nor bairns noo; they’re a’ wi’ God," he
-added, bowing reverently, "an’ yon laddie kind o’ minds me o’ wee
-Airchie—Airchie died wi’ the scarlet fever. An’ I’ve been thinkin’,
-David, I’ve been thinkin’ I never spent the siller that wud hae gone for
-Airchie’s schoolin’. Ye ken, David, div ye no’?"
-
-David knew not how to answer. But his heart was more nimble than his
-lips. "I was awful sorry when you lost your little boy," he said, his
-eyes upon the ground; "I never had a son myself—so you’re better off nor
-me."
-
-
-
-
- *XI*
-
- _*FOOD FOR THOUGHT*_
-
-
-One pair of eyes, at least, had watched Harvey’s unostentatious retreat
-from the clamorous throng about the table. And no sooner had Madeline
-noted his departure than she quietly slipped into the vacant place
-beside his sister, who welcomed her with a smile as generous as the
-absorbing intensity of the moment would permit. Madeline’s cheeks were
-still rosy with the flush of angry resentment that Cecil’s cruel words
-had started. Twice had he taken his place beside her at the table, and
-twice she had moved away; even now his eyes seemed to follow her,
-casting conciliatory glances that found no response.
-
-The picnic feast was finally concluded—but not till sheer physical
-inability proclaimed a truce—and Madeline and Jessie withdrew together.
-
-"Let’s go down into the gully, Jessie," Madeline suggested, pointing
-towards a slight ravine a little way in the distance; "I think we’d find
-flowers there, perhaps."
-
-Jessie was agreed. "But I wish Harvey would come," she said; "I wonder
-where he is—he went away just when we began our dinner."
-
-"Oh, he’s all right," replied the older girl. "I saw him going
-away—he’ll be back in a little."
-
-"An’ I didn’t see—I didn’t see the rhubarb tarts mother made," Jessie
-continued, her mind still busy with the missing. "You don’t suppose
-Cecil Craig threw them away, do you?" she asked, suddenly fearful; "he’s
-so mean."
-
-"Don’t let’s speak about him at all," Madeline interrupted. "The tarts
-are all right," she went on consolingly. "I saw one boy very—very busy
-with them," she concluded dexterously. "Besides," she added, the
-connection not so obvious as her tone would indicate, "I’ve got
-something to say to you, Jessie—sit down; sit down beside me here."
-
-Jessie obeyed and they sank together on a mossy mound, a few stately
-oaks and maples whispering welcome; for they were jealous trees, and had
-begrudged the central grove its throng of happy children, the merry
-scene just visible from their topmost boughs.
-
-"I’ve got awful good news for you, Jessie," Madeline began ardently,
-after a momentary struggle as to how she should introduce the subject.
-
-"What’s it about?" Jessie asked, her eyes opening wide.
-
-"It’s about your mother," answered Madeline.
-
-Jessie looked gravely at the other.
-
-"Anything about the tarts?" she enquired earnestly, her mind still
-absorbed with the tragedy.
-
-"No, no—of course it’s not about anything like that. It’s about her
-eyes—I’m pretty sure they’re going to get well."
-
-Jessie’s own were dancing. "Who said so? Why? Tell me quick."
-
-"Well, I know all about everything," Madeline replied, importantly. "I
-know about you wanting to take her to the doctor in the city—and she’s
-going to go," she affirmed conclusively.
-
-"When?" Jessie demanded swiftly.
-
-"Any time—to-morrow, if you like," Madeline returned triumphantly,
-withdrawing her hand from her bosom and thrusting the crisp notes into
-Jessie’s; "my father gave me all that money to-day—and it’s to pay the
-doctor—it’s to pay everything," she amended jubilantly. "Only father
-doesn’t want any one to know who did it—when do you think she’ll go,
-Jessie?" she asked, a little irrelevantly, for matters had taken a
-rather unexpected turn.
-
-Jessie was staring at her through swimming eyes, the import of the great
-moment too much for her childish soul. Her mother’s face passed before
-her, beautiful in its tender patience; and all the pathos of the long
-struggle, so nearly over now, broke upon the little mind that knew not
-what pathos meant except by the slow tuition of a sorrow-clouded life.
-Poor child, she little knew by what relentless limitations even great
-city doctors may be bound.
-
-"Is it because you’re glad, Jessie?" Madeline enquired in a reverent
-sort of voice, dimly diagnosing the paradox of human joy. But Jessie
-answered never a word; her gaze was fixed downward now upon the money,
-such a sum of it as she had never seen before in her poor meagre life.
-And the big tears fell on the unconscious things lying in her lap, the
-poor dead symbols baptized and quickened by the living tokens of human
-love and feeling.
-
-"Oh, yes," she sobbed at last, "it’s ’cause I’m glad—mother’ll be able
-to see the flowers now, an’ the birds, an’ everything—she loves them so.
-An’ poor Harvey won’t have to spend his raspberry money; he hasn’t any
-winter coat, but now—I’m nearly as glad for Harvey as I am for mother,"
-she broke off, suddenly drying her eyes, the ever-ready smile of
-childhood returning to the playground from which the tears had driven
-it.
-
-"What makes you so glad about Harvey?" Madeline broke in, hailing the
-returning smile with one no less radiant of her own.
-
-"Because—because mother was sorrier about Harvey than anything else.
-You see, he’s nearly ready to—to be a scholar. An’ mother always said
-she’d be able to do everything for Harvey—everything like that, you
-know—if she could only see. Our Harvey’s goin’ to be a great man—if he
-gets a chance," she prophesied solemnly, looking straight into
-Madeline’s face, the bills quite forgotten now, one or two of them
-having fallen among the leaves upon the grass.
-
-"Mind you, our Harvey isn’t always goin’ to be poor—mother says there’s
-lots of rich people gets poor, an’ lots of poor people gets rich. An’
-that’s what Harvey’s goin’ to be—an’ mother an’ me’s goin’ to help him,"
-the little loyalist proclaimed, her face beaming with confidence.
-
-This opened up quite a vein of conversation, to which the youthful minds
-addressed themselves for a serious season. Finally, forgetting all
-philosophic matters, Jessie exclaimed: "I wonder where Harvey is—he
-doesn’t often leave me alone like this. Won’t he be glad though?—I’m
-goin’ to find Harvey."
-
-
-Little did either of them dream how the object of their wonderings had
-been employed while they were sequestered in their peaceful nook.
-
-Having left the table, Harvey loitered about till varying sounds assured
-him that the meal he had abandoned was completed. Then he strode along
-till he stood beside the drowsy sorrel, still doing spasmodic battle
-with the flies. Unbuttoning his coat, he removed the tarts and hid them
-in a hollow log; their confinement had not improved them much. Then he
-stood a while, pondering. A relieved and purposeful expression at
-length indicated that his mind was formed. But considerable time
-elapsed before a wandering urchin hove in sight—and such a being was
-absolutely necessary. The boy who thus suddenly appeared was evidently
-bent on an inspection of the animal, looking even from afar with the
-critical eye that universal boyhood turns upon a horse. The youngster
-drifted nearer and nearer; he was contriving to chew a slab of tamarack
-gum and eat an apple at one and the self-same time, which tempered his
-gait considerably.
-
-Harvey nimbly slipped the noose in the bridle rein, the strap dangling
-free; the horse was quite oblivious, trying to snatch a little sleep
-between skirmishes.
-
-"Hello there!" Harvey called to the boy, "come here—I want you to run a
-message."
-
-The boy responded with a slightly quickened pace, and was almost at his
-side when he suddenly stood still and emitted a dreary howl.
-
-"What’s the matter?" Harvey asked, slightly alarmed, the sorrel waking
-completely and looking around at the newcomer.
-
-"I bit my tongue," the urchin wailed, disgorging his varied grist as he
-spoke. The dual process had been too complicated for him and he
-cautiously pasted the gum about a glass alley, storing both away in his
-breeches pocket. Then he bent his undivided powers upon the apple.
-
-"That’ll soon be all right," Harvey assured him—"rub it with your gums,"
-he directed luminously. "Don’t you see that horse is loose?—well, I want
-you to run back and tell Cecil Craig his horse has got untied; don’t
-tell him who said so."
-
-"What’ll you give me?" enquired he of the wounded tongue, extending the
-injured member with telescopic fluency, squinting one eye violently down
-to survey it. "Is it bleedin’?" he asked tenderly.
-
-"No—’tisn’t even cut," Harvey responded curtly, examining it seriously,
-nevertheless, with the sympathy that belongs to boyhood. "Let it
-back—you look like a jay-bird."
-
-The other withdrew it reluctantly, the distorted eye slowly recovering
-its orbit till it rested on Harvey’s face. "What’ll you give me?" he
-asked again, making another savage onslaught on the apple.
-
-Harvey fumbled in his pocket, rather dismayed. But his face lightened as
-his hand came forth. "I’ll give you this tooth-brush," he said, holding
-out a sorely wasted specimen. "I found it on the railroad track—some
-one dropped it, I guess. Or I’ll give you this garter," exposing a
-gaudy circlet of elastic, fatigued and springless; "I found it after the
-circus moved away."
-
-The smaller boy’s face lit up a moment at reference to the sacred
-institution whose departure had left life so dreary.
-
-"Charlie Winter found a shirt-stud an’ half a pair of braces there," he
-said sympathetically; "he gave the shirt-stud to his sister, but he
-wears the braces hisself," he added, completing the humble tale.
-
-"Which’ll you take?" Harvey enquired abruptly, fearful lest the sorrel
-might awaken to his liberty.
-
-"I don’t want that," the younger said contemptuously, glancing at the
-emaciated tooth-brush; "we’ve got one at home—a better one than that.
-An’ I don’t wear garters," he added scornfully, glancing downwards at
-his bare legs, "except on Sundays, an’ I’ve got one for that—the left
-leg never comes down. Haven’t you got anything else?" he queried,
-looking searchingly in the direction of Harvey’s pocket.
-
-"No, that’s all I’ve got," returned Harvey as he restored the
-tooth-brush to its resting-place, still hopeful, however, of the garter.
-"It’ll make an awful good catapult," he suggested seriously.
-
-"Let me see it," said the bargainer.
-
-Harvey handed it to him. "I’ll hold your apple," he offered.
-
-"Oh, never mind," the other replied discreetly; "I’ll just hold it in my
-mouth," the memory of similar service and its tragic outcome floating
-before him. The boy took the flaming article in his hand and drew it
-back, snapping it several times against the sole of his uplifted foot.
-
-"All right," he said, withdrawing what survived of the apple, "it’s a
-little mushy—but I’ll take it."
-
-The errand having been repeated in detail, the youngster departed to
-perform it, an apple stem—but never a core—falling by the wayside as he
-went. Harvey gazed towards the brow of the hill till he caught the first
-glimpse of a hurrying form, then slipped in behind the tree, carefully
-concealed.
-
-Cecil Craig came apace, for he could see the dangling strap at a little
-distance. Hurriedly retying the horse, he was about to retrace his
-steps when he suddenly felt himself in the grip of an evidently hostile
-hand, securely attached from behind to the collar of his coat.
-
-"Now you can ask me those questions if you like," he heard a rather
-hoarse voice saying; and writhing round he looked into a face flaming
-with a wrath that was rekindling fast.
-
-Young Craig both squirmed and squealed; but the one was as fruitless as
-the other. Harvey was bent on dealing faithfully with him; and lack of
-spirit, rather than of strength, made the struggle a comparatively
-unequal one. After the preliminary application was completed, he
-dragged Craig to where he had hidden the rhubarb tarts, still
-crestfallen from solitary confinement.
-
-"Why don’t you make some more jokes about the tarts my mother made?"
-Harvey enquired hotly; "you were real funny about them just before
-dinner." This reference to his mother seemed to fan the flame of his
-wrath anew, and another application was the natural result.
-
-"Let me go," Cecil gasped. "I was only joking—ouch! I was just joking,
-I say," as he tried to release himself from Harvey’s tightening grip.
-
-"So’m I," retorted Harvey; "just a piece of play, the same as yours—only
-we’re kind o’ slow at seeing the fun of it, eh?" shaking the now solemn
-humourist till his hair rose and fell—"I’d have seen the point a good
-deal quicker if my mother hadn’t worked so hard," he went on, flushing
-with the recollection and devoting himself anew to the facetious
-industry. "Pick up those tarts," he thundered suddenly.
-
-Cecil looked incredulously at his antagonist. One glance persuaded him
-and he slowly picked up one by the outer edge.
-
-"Take ’em all—the whole three," Harvey directed in a low tense tone.
-Which Cecil immediately did, not deeming the time opportune to refuse.
-
-"Now give them to your horse," Harvey said; "you know you said you’d a
-good mind to feed him with them."
-
-"I won’t do it," Cecil declared stoutly. "I’ll fight before I do it."
-
-Harvey smiled. "It won’t do to have any fighting," he said amiably.
-"I’ll just give them to him myself—you better come along," he suggested,
-tightening his grip as he saw Cecil glancing fondly towards the brow of
-the hill, visions of a more peaceful scene calling him to return.
-
-Harvey escorted his captive to the horse’s head; the equine was now wide
-awake and taking a lively interest in the animated interview; such
-preparations for mounting he had never seen before. But he was
-evidently disinclined to be drawn into the argument; for when Harvey
-held the rhubarb pie, rather battle-worn now, beneath his nose, he
-sniffed contemptuously and turned scornfully away.
-
-Cecil, somewhat convalescent, indulged a sneering little laugh. "Your
-little joke don’t work," he said. "Pompey won’t look at "em."
-
-"You’ll wish he had, before you’re through with them," Harvey returned
-significantly—"you’ve got to eat them between you."
-
-"Got to what?—between who?" Cecil gasped, years of grammatical
-instruction wasted now as the dread prospect dawned grim and gray; "I
-don’t understand you," he faltered, turning remarkably white for one so
-utterly in the dark.
-
-"It doesn’t need much understanding," Harvey returned laconically. "Go
-ahead."
-
-Then the real struggle began; compared to this difference of opinion,
-and the physical demonstration wherein it found expression, the previous
-encounter was but as kittens’ frolic in the sun.
-
-The opening argument concluded after a protracted struggle, Harvey
-emerged uppermost, still pressing his hospitality upon the prostrate
-Cecil. "May as well walk the plank," he was saying; "besides, they’re
-getting dryer all the time," he informed him as a friend.
-
-"Let me up," gurgled Cecil. Harvey promptly released him; seated on a
-log, the latter began to renew the debate.
-
-"I’ve had my dinner," he pleaded; "an’ I ate all I could."
-
-"A little more won’t hurt you—always room at the top, you know. Anyhow
-it’s just dessert," responded Harvey, holding out one of the tarts.
-Whereat Cecil again valiantly refused—and a worthy demonstration
-followed.
-
-The conquered at last kissed the rod and the solemn operation began,
-Harvey cheerfully breaking off chunk after chunk and handing them to the
-weary muncher. "There’s lots of poor children in New York would be glad
-to get them," he said in answer to one of Cecil’s most vigorous
-protests.
-
-"Say," murmured the stall-fed as he paused, almost mired in the middle
-of tart number two, "let me take the rest home an’ eat ’em there—I’ll
-really eat ’em—on my honour; I promise you," he declared solemnly.
-
-"I’m surprised a fellow brought up like you would think of carryin’
-stuff home to eat it—that’s bad form. Here, take it—shut your eyes and
-open your mouth," commanded his keeper, holding another generous
-fragment to his lips.
-
-"I say," gulped Cecil plaintively, "give us a drink—it’s chokin’ me."
-
-"Shouldn’t drink at your meals," returned Harvey; "bad for your
-digestion—but I guess a drop or two won’t hurt you. Here, come this
-way—put on your cap—an’ fetch that along," pointing at the surviving
-tart; "the exercise’ll do you good," and he led the way downwards to a
-little brook meandering through the woods. No hand was on the victim’s
-collar now; poor Cecil was in no shape for flight.
-
-"Give us your cap," said Harvey, thrusting it into the sparkling water
-and holding the streaming receptacle to Cecil’s lips; "that’s
-enough—that’ll do just now; don’t want you to get foundered."
-
-"I’ve had enough," groaned the guest a minute later, as if the moment
-had only come; "I’ve got it nearly all down—an’ I hate crusts. I won’t;
-by heavens, I tell you I won’t," bracing himself as vigorously as his
-cargo would permit.
-
-"I’m the one to say when you’ve had enough," Harvey retorted shortly,
-throwing himself into battle array as he spoke, "an’ you bet you’ll eat
-the crusts—I’ll teach you to eat what’s set before you an’ make no
-remarks about the stuff—specially when it’s not your own," he said,
-reverting to the original offense and warming up at the recollection.
-"You’d make a great fight, wouldn’t you—fightin’ you’d be like fightin’
-a bread-puddin’," he concluded scornfully.
-
-Cecil munched laboriously on. "There," Harvey suddenly interrupted,
-"now you’ve had enough—that wasn’t rhubarb you were eatin’," he flung
-contemptuously at him; "’twas crow—an’ that’ll teach you to make sport
-of folks you think beneath you. You’ll have some food for thought for a
-while—you’d better walk round a bit," he concluded with a grin as he
-turned and strode away, leaving the inlaid Cecil alone with his burdened
-bosom.
-
-
-
-
- *XII*
-
- _*THE ENCIRCLING GLOOM*_
-
-
-Real boyhood, with its cheerfulness amid present cares and its oblivion
-to those that were yet to come, was almost past. Such at least would
-have been the opinion of any accurate observer if he had noted Harvey’s
-face that summer morning as he pressed along the city street. A deeper
-seriousness than mere years bestow looked out from the half-troubled,
-half-hopeful gaze; not that it was ill-becoming—the contrary rather—for
-there was something of steady resoluteness in his eyes that attested his
-purpose to play some worthy part in this fevered life whose stern and
-warlike face had already looked its challenge to his own.
-
-How pathetic were many a poor procession—and how romantic too—if we
-could but see the invisibles that accompany the humblest trudgers on the
-humblest street!
-
-For Memory and Hope and Fear and Sorrow and silent Pain—Death too,
-noiselessly pursuing—and Love, chiefest of them all, mute and anguished
-often-times, crowding Death aside and battling bravely in the shadowy
-struggle; how often might all these be seen accompanying the lowly, had
-we but the lightened vision!
-
-Thus was it there that summer day. The careless noticed nothing but a
-well developed lad, his poor clothes as carefully repaired and brushed
-as faithful hands could make them for his visit to the city; and they
-saw beside him only a white-faced woman, her whole mien marked by
-timidity and gentleness, as if she felt how poor and small was the part
-she played in the surging life about her. Both made their way
-carefully, keeping close in under the shadow of the buildings, as if
-anxious to escape the jostling throng. The woman’s hand was in her
-son’s; she seemed to be trusting altogether to his guidance and
-protection, and very tenderly he shielded her from the little perils of
-the street. Timidly, yet right eagerly, they made their way—for the
-quest was a great one; and all the years to come, they knew, were
-wrapped in the bosom of that anxious hour.
-
-"Hadn’t we better get on one of those street cars, mother?" the boy
-asked, glancing wistfully at a passing trolley. "I’m sure you’re
-tired."
-
-"How much does it cost, Harvey?" the mother asked.
-
-"I’m not very sure, but I think it’s ten cents for us both," he
-answered, relaxing his pace.
-
-The mother pressed on anew. "We can’t afford it, dear," she said;
-"it’ll take such a lot to pay the doctor—we’ll have to save all we can;
-and I’m not very tired," she concluded, taking his hand again.
-
-When, after much of scrutiny and more of enquiry, they stood at length
-before the doctor’s imposing place, both instinctively stopped and gazed
-a little, the outlines of the stately house floating but very dimly
-before the woman’s wistful eyes.
-
-"Will we ask him how much it costs before we go in?" Harvey’s mother
-asked him anxiously.
-
-The boy pondered a moment. "I don’t think so," he said at length; "he
-mightn’t like it."
-
-"But perhaps we haven’t got enough."
-
-"Well, we can send the rest after we get home—I’ve got the raspberry
-money left."
-
-The woman sighed and smiled together, permitting herself to be led on up
-the steps.
-
-Harvey’s hand was on the bell: "You don’t suppose he’ll do anything to
-you, will he, mother? He won’t hurt you, will he?"
-
-"No, no, child, of course not; he’ll make me well," his mother said
-reassuringly. In a moment the bell was answered and the excited pair
-were ushered in.
-
-Nothing could have been more kindly than their reception at the hands of
-the eminent doctor; nor could the most distinguished patient have been
-more carefully and sympathetically examined. Almost breathless, Harvey
-sat waiting for the verdict.
-
-But the doctor was very vague in his conclusions. "You must use this
-lotion. And—and we’ll hope for the best," he said; "and whenever you’re
-in the city you must come and see me—don’t make a special trip for that
-purpose, of course," he added cautiously.
-
-"Why?" Harvey asked acutely.
-
-The doctor made an evasive reply. Harvey’s face was dark.
-
-"How much is it?" he said in a hollow voice, his hand going to his
-pocket as he spoke.
-
-"Oh, that’s not important—we’ll just leave that till you’re in the city
-again," said the kindly doctor, shaking Harvey playfully by the
-shoulder.
-
-"I’d sooner pay it now, sir; I’ve got—I’ve got some money," declared the
-boy.
-
-"Well, all right," returned the physician; "let me see—how would a
-dollar appeal to you? My charge will be one dollar," he said gravely.
-
-Harvey was busy unwinding his little roll. "It’s not very much," he
-said without looking up; "I thought ’twould be a lot more than that—I
-haven’t got anything smaller than five dollars, sir."
-
-"Neither have I—what a rich bunch we are," the doctor answered quickly;
-"I tell you—I’m liable to be up in Glenallen some of these days for a
-bowling match; I’ll just collect it then," leading the way towards the
-door as he spoke, his farewell full of cordial cheer.
-
-
-Neither mother nor son uttered a word till they were some little
-distance from the doctor’s office. Suddenly the former spoke.
-
-"The world’s full of trouble, Harvey—but I believe it’s fuller of
-kindness. It’s wonderful how many tender-hearted folks there are.
-Wasn’t it good of him?"
-
-Harvey made no answer, but his hand loosened itself from hers. "I
-believe I—I forgot something," he said abruptly. "Just wait here,
-mother; I’ll be back in just a minute—you can rest here, see," leading
-her to a bench on the green sward of a little crescent not much more
-than half a stone’s throw away.
-
-A minute later he was back in the doctor’s office, the surprised
-physician opening the door himself. "What’s the matter, boy—forgotten
-something?" he queried.
-
-"No," Harvey answered stoutly, his face very white; "but I knew you
-didn’t tell me everything, sir—and I want to know. I want you to tell
-me now, quick—mother’s waiting."
-
-"Why do you want to know, laddie?"
-
-"Because she’s my mother, sir. And I’ve got a little sister at home—and
-I’m going to take care of them both; and I want to know if mother’s eyes
-are going to get better, sir," he almost panted, one statement chasing
-the other as fast as the words could come.
-
-The doctor’s face was soft with grave compassion; long years of
-familiarity with human suffering had not chilled that sacred fire.
-Putting his arm about the youth’s shoulder, he drew the throbbing form
-close to him. "My boy," he began in a low voice, "I won’t deceive you.
-Your mother’s eyesight is almost gone. But still," he hastened on as
-the lad started and turned his pleading eyes up to the doctor’s face,
-"it might come back—you can never tell. It’s an affection of the optic
-nerve—it’s often aggravated by a violent shock of some kind—and I’ve had
-cases where it did come back. It might return, lad, might come very
-slowly or very suddenly—and I can say no more than that."
-
-The poor boy never moved; the mournful eyes never wandered an instant
-from the doctor’s face. The silence seemed long; at least to the
-physician. One or two patients had arrived meantime, waiting in the
-outer room—and a coachman’s shining hat could be seen through the
-spacious window. But it did not dawn on Harvey that such a doctor could
-have any other care in all the world, or any serious duty except such as
-now engrossed them both.
-
-"What are you going to do?" the physician said presently.
-
-"I’m going back to my mother," the boy answered simply, picking up his
-hat.
-
-"Oh, yes," and the other repressed a smile; "but I mean—what are you
-going to do at home? What will you go at in Glenallen—you go to school,
-don’t you?"
-
-"I’m going to work all the time," Harvey replied resolutely, moving
-along the hall.
-
-The doctor’s hand was on the door. "I’m sorry for you, my lad," he said
-gently. "But there’s always hope—we’re all God’s patients after all,"
-he added earnestly.
-
-Harvey put his hand against the opening door, his face turning in
-fullness of candour and trust towards the doctor.
-
-"I’ve prayed about mother for a long time," he said; "is it any use to
-keep on, sir? You’re a specialist and you ought to know."
-
-The doctor closed the door quite tight. "Don’t let any specialist
-settle that matter for you," he said a little hoarsely. "It often seems
-as if the good Lord wouldn’t begin till they get through. So you pray
-on, my lad—for there’s no healing, after all, but comes from God." Then
-he opened the door and the broken-hearted went out into the street.
-
-Suffused and dim, blinking bravely through it all, were the mournful
-eyes as Harvey retraced his steps towards his mother; swift and deep was
-the train of thought that wound its way through his troubled mind. For
-there is no ally to deep and earnest thinking like a loving heart that
-anguish has bestirred—all true quickening of our mental faculties is the
-handiwork of the soul. Harvey saw the trees, the sky, the birds
-between—all different now, more precious, more wonderful to behold; for
-he saw them in the light of his mother’s deepening darkness, and the
-glory of all that was evanishing from her appeared the more beautiful,
-pitifully beautiful, to his own misty eyes.
-
-Involuntarily he thought of the future; of the twilight years that lay
-beyond—and his inward eyes turned shuddering away. The years that were
-past, those at least that had come and gone before the threatening
-shadow first appeared, seemed to lie behind him like a lane of light.
-Poverty and obscurity and sorrow and care had been well content to abide
-together in their humble home—almost their only guests save love. Yet
-his memory now of those earlier years was only of their gladness, their
-happiness, their light—all the rest had vanished like a dream when one
-awakes. He remembered only that they two, the fatherless, had been wont
-to look deep and lovingly into the eyes that looked back their wealth of
-fondness into the children’s faces—night or day, day or night, that
-light was never quenched; they could see her and she could see them—and
-to look was to possess, though his early thoughts could not have defined
-this mystic truth, cherish it fondly though they did. But for the
-future—ah me! for the future, with blindness in a mother’s eyes.
-
-
-Yet Harvey’s thought, swift and pensive as it was, was troubled by no
-prospect of burden for himself and by no apprehension of all the load
-that must be moved, under cover of the fast-falling dark, from his
-mother’s shoulders to his own. His thought was what must be called
-heart-thought, and that alone. If a fleeting view of new
-responsibilities, or a melting picture of his sister’s face, hung for a
-moment before the inward eye, it retreated fast before the great vision
-that flooded his soul with tenderness, the vision of a woman—and she his
-mother—sitting apart in the silence and the dark, the busy hands denied
-the luxury of work, the ever-open Bible closed before her, the great
-world of beauty receding into shadow; and, most of all, there rose
-before him the image of her face, unresponsive and unsmiling when the
-tender eyes of her own children should fall upon it, mutely searching,
-yearning silently for the answering sunshine of days that would come no
-more.
-
-Without a word Harvey took his seat beside his mother. Her hand slipped
-quietly out and took his own, but without speech or sound—and in that
-moment Harvey learned, as he had never known before, how cruel are the
-lips of silence. Suddenly he noticed a cab, rolling idly along, the
-driver throwing his eyes hither and thither, poising like a kingfisher
-for its plunge.
-
-The boy raised his hand in signal and the cabby swooped down upon him
-like one who has found his prey.
-
-"Get in, mother—we’ll drive back," he said quietly.
-
-His mother, startled beyond measure at the prospect of extravagance so
-unwonted, began to remonstrate, almost refusing. But a different note
-seemed to have come into Harvey’s voice, his words touched with
-something that indicated a new era, something of the authority that
-great compassion gives, and in a moment she found herself yielding with
-a dependent confidence she had never felt before.
-
-"Where to?" asked the man.
-
-"Anywhere," said Harvey—"somewhere near the station; I’ll tell you
-where."
-
-"It’ll—it’ll cost a dollar," the man ventured, his hand still on the
-door and his eyes making a swift inventory of the boy’s rather
-unpromising apparel.
-
-"I’ll pay you," the latter answered sternly. "Shut the door; close the
-window too," he ordered—"close both the windows. And don’t drive fast."
-
-The spendthrift impulse must have been heaven-born and that vagrant
-chariot been piloted from afar. For they two within felt something of
-sanctuary peace as the driver vanished to his place and they found
-themselves alone—alone with each other and the sorrow that was deep and
-thrilling as their love. They could hear and feel the busy tide of life
-about them; the pomp of wealth and the tumult of business frowned from
-towering mansions, or swept indifferent by, knowing nothing, caring
-less, about those nestling two who were all alone in the mighty city—but
-they had each other, and the haughty world was shut out from them, all
-its cruel grandeur, all its surging billows powerless to rob them of
-what their stricken hearts held dear. And, if the truth were told, many
-a stately house and many a flashing carriage that passed them by, held
-less of love’s real wealth than did the mud-bespattered cab that creaked
-and rumbled on its way.
-
-Several minutes elapsed before either spoke. Then the mother turned
-towards the silent lad, her face sweet in the wistful smile that stole
-across it.
-
-"Did you find what you went back for, dear?" she asked.
-
-Harvey cast one sharp agonized glance towards the gentle face—and it
-told him all. He knew then that the pain of either concealing or
-revealing was to be spared him; but his heart leaped in pity and in
-boundless love as he saw the light upon the worn face, the brave and
-tender signal that he knew the wounded spirit had furnished all for him.
-
-He spoke no answer to her words; he knew that she expected none. But
-the answer came nevertheless, and in richer language than halting words
-could learn. For he rose half erect in the carriage, careless as to
-whether the world’s disdainful eye might see, his arms stealing around
-the yielding and now trembling form with a strength and passion that
-were the gift of the first really anguished hour his life had ever
-known.
-
-The woman felt its power, caught its message, even inwardly rejoiced in
-the great security; pavilion like to this she had never found before in
-all her storm-swept life.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," she murmured at last, "Harvey, my son, God’s been good to
-me; I’m almost happy when—when I feel how much you are to me now—and
-Jessie too," she added quickly; "poor Jessie—it’ll be hard for her."
-
-Mutely, reverently, guided from on high, Harvey strove to speak the
-burden of his heart. But it ended only in tears and tender tokens of
-hand and lip, his sorrow outpouring the story of its pity and devotion
-as best it could.
-
-"I’ll always take care of you, mother," he whispered; "always—just like
-you’ve taken care of us. And we’ll wait till you get better,
-mother—we’ll wait together."
-
-His mother’s fingers were straying about his hair. "I know it, darling,"
-she said; "some ways I’m so poor, Harvey; but other ways I’m wonderfully
-rich—the highest ways. And now, Harvey," straightening up as she spoke,
-"there’s something I want to attend to. You must tell the man to drive
-to a store where we get clothes—coats and things, you know. I want to
-get something."
-
-"What?" asked Harvey suspiciously.
-
-"It’s for you. It’s a winter coat—you know you haven’t one, Harvey."
-
-Then followed a stout protest and then a vigorous debate. But the
-mother conquered. "You mustn’t forget that I’m your mother, Harvey,"
-she finally urged, and Harvey had no response for that. But after they
-had alighted and the purchase had been duly made he contrived to
-withdraw the genial salesman beyond reach of his mother’s hearing.
-
-"Have you got something the same price as this?" he asked hurriedly;
-"something for a lady—a cloak, or a dressing-gown—one that would fit,
-you know," he said, glancing in the direction of his mother.
-
-The clerk was responsive enough; in a moment the exchange was effected,
-and Harvey, his mother’s arm linked with his, led the way out to the
-crowded street.
-
-They made their way back to the station. As Harvey passed within its
-arching portals, he bethought himself sadly of the high hope, now almost
-dead and gone, that had upborne his heart when last he had passed
-beneath them. It seemed like months, rather than a few hours, so
-charged with suspense and feeling had those hours been.
-
-The train was in readiness and they were soon settled for the homeward
-journey. But scarcely had they begun to move when the door before them
-opened and Cecil Craig made his appearance. He evidently knew that
-Harvey and his mother were aboard, for his eye roamed enquiringly over
-the passengers, resting as it fell on the two serious faces. Suddenly he
-seemed to note that Harvey had pre-empted the seat opposite to the one
-on which he and his mother had taken their places; a small valise and
-the parcel containing the surreptitious purchase were lying on it.
-Whereupon Cecil strode forward. "Take those things off," he
-hectored—"Want the whole train to yourself? Don’t you know that’s
-against the rules—I want to sit there."
-
-Harvey had not seen him approaching, for his eyes had been furtively
-studying his mother’s face. He started, looking up at Cecil almost as
-though he were not there; then he quietly removed the encumbrances and
-even turned the seat for Cecil to take his place. He wondered dumbly to
-himself what might be the cause of this strange calmness, this absolute
-indifference; he did not know how a master-sorrow can make all lesser
-irritations like the dust.
-
-"Keep it," Cecil said insolently. "I’m going back to the Pullman—I
-wanted to see who’d walk the plank to-day," casting at Harvey a
-contemptuous sneer the latter did not even see. And no thought of
-Cecil, or his insult, or his phantom triumph, mingled with Harvey’s
-grave reflections as they rolled swiftly homeward; he had other matters
-to consider, of more importance far.
-
-
-
-
- *XIII*
-
- _*THE DEWS OF SORROW*_
-
-
-The dusk was gathering about them as the returning travellers wended
-their way along the almost deserted street. The dim outline of the
-slumbering hills could be seen across the river—for Glenallen had grown
-in a circle upon surrounding heights—and as Harvey’s eyes rested now and
-again upon them in the dying light of the summer day, he felt a secret
-sense of help and comfort, as if some one knew and cared for his clouded
-life. It seemed good to walk these streets again—so different from those
-of the city—with the familiar faces and the kindly voices; and often was
-he stopped and questioned, not without delicacy and chaste reserve, as
-to the outcome of their pilgrimage. Which gave his heart some balm, at
-least for the moment.
-
-"Look, mother," he cried suddenly, forgetting in his eagerness; "look—I
-can see our light," his face glowing as if the gleam were from palace
-windows. His mother raised her head quickly, as if she also saw.
-Perhaps it was even clearer to her, though she beheld it not. But
-together they quickened their pace, for they knew that earth’s dearest
-shelter, how humble soever it might be, was just before.
-
-And as they came closer, Harvey could see, the white frock showing clear
-against the shadows, the outline of his sister’s form. Poor child, the
-day had been long for her, waiting and wondering, the portent of the
-tidings that the night might bring mingling with all her childish
-thoughts. She was moving out from the door-step now, peering eagerly,
-starting forward or restraining herself again as doubt and certainty of
-the approaching pair impelled her. Suddenly she seemed to be quite sure,
-and with a little cry she bounded along the street, the eager footfalls
-pattering with the rapidity of love.
-
-The mother knew that music well; her hand slipped out of Harvey’s grasp,
-the hungry arms outstretched as she felt the ardent form approaching—and
-in a moment, tears and laughter blending, the girlish arms were tight
-about the mother’s neck and warm kisses were healing the wound within.
-Presently Jessie withdrew her face from the heaving bosom, her eyes
-turned wistfully upon her mother’s, plaintively searching for the cure
-her childlike hope had expected to find obvious at a glance.
-Disappointment and pain spoke from her eyes—she could see no
-difference—and she turned almost reproachfully upon her brother.
-
-"What did he—what——?" she began; but something on Harvey’s face fell
-like a forbidding finger on her lips and her question died in silence.
-
-"I brought you something pretty from the city, Jessie," the mother broke
-in. She knew what had checked the words. "It’s in the satchel,
-dear—and we’ll open it as soon as we get home."
-
-"What’s in that other bundle?" asked the child.
-
-"It’s Harvey’s winter coat," replied the mother.
-
-"I’m so glad," Jessie said simply. "And oh, I’ve got good news too,"
-she went on enthusiastically. "I sold three pairs of those knitted
-stockings—all myself; and the man wouldn’t take any change—I only asked
-him once. It was thirty-one cents—and the money’s in the cup," she
-concluded eagerly as they passed within the little door, the bell above
-clanging their welcome home.
-
-The valise was duly opened and Jessie’s present produced amid great
-elation. Only a simple blue sash, selected by her brother with grave
-deliberation from the assortment on a bargain counter that lay like
-victims on an altar; but Jessie’s joy was beautiful to behold, aided and
-abetted in it as she was by the other two, both mother and son trying on
-the flashing girdle, only to declare that it became Jessie best of all.
-
-Suddenly the girl exclaimed: "Oh, Harvey, the chickens missed you so.
-I’m sure they did—Snappy wouldn’t take any supper. They’re in bed, of
-course, but I don’t think they’re sleeping—let’s just go out and see
-them. Come."
-
-Harvey was willing enough, and the two sallied out together. But Jessie
-held her hand tight on the door, drowsy chucklings within all unheeded,
-as she turned her white face upon her brother.
-
-"Now," she said imperiously, the voice low and strained, "tell me—tell
-me quick, Harvey."
-
-"I thought you wanted me to see the chickens," he evaded.
-
-"I hate the chickens—and that was a lie about Snappy’s supper. I just
-wanted to ask you about mother. Tell me quick, Harvey."
-
-Harvey stammered something; but he needed to say no more—the girl sank
-sobbing at his feet.
-
-"I knew it," she cried. "I just knew it—oh, mother, mother! And she’ll
-soon never see again, and it’ll always be night all the time—an’ she’ll
-never look at you or me any more, Harvey, she’ll never look at you or me
-again. An’ I got a little photograph took to-day, a little tintype—just
-five cents—an’ I thought she’d be able to see it when she came back.
-Oh, Harvey, Harvey," and the unhappy child, long years a struggler with
-poverty and cloud, poured forth, almost as with a woman’s voice, the
-first strain of anguish her little heart had ever known.
-
-Harvey sank beside her, his arm holding her close. The twilight was now
-deepening into dark, a fitting mantel for these two enshadowed hearts.
-The still form of the bending brother, already giving promise of
-manhood’s strength, seemed, even in outward aspect, to speak of inner
-compassion as he bended over the slender and weaker frame of his little
-sister. Strong and fearless and true he was; and if any eye had been
-keen enough to penetrate that encircling gloom and catch a vision of all
-that lay behind the humble scene, the knightly soul of the struggling
-boy would have stood forth like a sheltering oak—so powerless,
-nevertheless, to shield the clinging life beside him, overswept as it
-was by the winds and waves of sorrow. But the purpose and the heart
-were there—the fatherless spreading gentle wings above the
-fatherless—and the scene was a holy one, typical of all humanity at its
-highest, and faintly faltering the story of the Cross. For if human
-tenderness and pity are not lights, broken though they be, of the great
-Heart Divine, then all life’s noblest voices are but mockery and lies.
-
-"Don’t, Jessie, please don’t," he murmured, his own tears flowing fast.
-"It’ll only keep her from getting better—she’ll see your eyes all red
-an’——"
-
-"She won’t—she can’t," sobbed the girl; "you know she can’t—she can’t
-see, Harvey," a fresh tide outbreaking at the thought.
-
-"But she’ll feel it, Jessie. Mothers can feel everything like
-that—’specially everybody’s own mother," he urged, vainly trying to
-control his own grief. "And anyhow, the doctor said she might get better
-some time—perhaps all of a sudden. And we’ve got to help her, Jessie;
-and we’ve got to make her happy too—and we can—mother said we could," he
-cried, his tone growing firmer as the great life-work loomed before him.
-
-Hope is the most contagious of all forms of health; and with wonderful
-gentleness and power the youthful comforter drew the sobbing heart
-beside him into the shelter of his own tender courage, the hiding-place
-of his own loving purpose. Soon Jessie was staring, wide-eyed, at her
-brother, as he unfolded the new duties they must perform together. That
-word itself was never used, but her heart answered, as all true hearts
-must ever answer, to the appeal of God.
-
-"I’ll try, Harvey," she said at last. "I’ll do the best I can to help
-mother to get well—an’ I’ll get up in the mornings an’ make the porridge
-myself," she avowed, smiling, the first step showing clear.
-
-Hand in hand they went back to the house, the light of eager purpose
-upon both their faces. As they entered, a familiar voice fell on
-Harvey’s ear.
-
-"We was jest a-goin’ by,"—it was David Borland’s staccato—"an’ I thought
-I’d drop in an’ see if you was all safe home. Don’t take off your
-things, Madeline; we’re not a-visitin’," he said to the girl beside him.
-For she was bidding fair to settle for a protracted stay.
-
-"Yes, we’re safe home, thank you," answered Mrs. Simmons, "and it’s
-lovely to get back. I’m a poor traveller."
-
-"’Tain’t safe to travel much these days," rejoined Mr. Borland after he
-had greeted Harvey; whose face, as well as a fugitive word or two,
-hushed any queries that were on David’s lips—"so many accidents, I
-always feel skeery on the trains—must be hard to run Divine
-predestination on schedule, since they got them heavy engines on the
-light rails. I often think the undertakers is part of the railroad
-trust," he concluded, smiling sententiously into all the faces at once.
-
-Some further conversation ensued, prompted in a general way by the
-excursion to the city, and dealing finally with the question of eminent
-city doctors and their merits.
-
-"I only went onct to a big city man like that," David said
-reminiscently, "and it was about my eyes, too. You see, I rammed my
-shaving-brush into one, one evenin’ when I was shavin’ in the dusk.
-Well, I was awful skeery about what he’d charge—didn’t have much of the
-almighty needful in them days. An’ I heard he charged the
-Governor-General’s missus five thousand dollars, a week or two before,
-for takin’ a speck o’ dust out of her eye—castin’ out the mote, as the
-Scriptur says; I’d leave a sand-pit stay there before I’d shell out like
-that. Well, anyhow, I was skeered, ’cause I knew me an’ the nobility
-had the same kind of eyes. So I didn’t dress very good—wore some old
-togs. An’ after he got through—just about four minutes an’ a half—I
-asked him what was the damage. Says he: ’What do you do, Mr. Borland?’
-’I work in a foundry,’ says I. ’Oh, well,’ says he, ’call it five
-dollars.’ So I yanked out a roll o’ bills about the size of a hind
-quarter o’ beef, an’ I burrows till I gets a five—then I gives it to
-him. ’How do you come to have a wad like that, Mr. Borland,’ says he,
-’if you work in a foundry?’ ’I own the foundry,’ says I, restorin’ the
-wad to where most Scotchmen carries their flask. ’Oh!’ says he, lookin’
-hard at the little fiver. ’Oh, I’ll give you another toadskin,’ says I,
-’jest to show there’s no hard feelin’.’ ’Keep it,’ says he—an’ he was
-laughin’ like a guinea hen, ’keep it, an’ buy a marble monument for
-yourself, and put at the bottom of it what a smart man you was,’" and
-David slapped his knee afresh in gleeful triumph. For the others, too,
-there was laughter and to spare; which very purpose David had designed
-his autobiography to accomplish. A moment later Madeline and her father
-were at the door, the little circle, laughing still, around him as they
-stepped without.
-
-"You’re a terrible one for shakin’ hands, girl," David said to his
-daughter as they stood a moment on the step. "That’s a habit I never
-got much into me." For Madeline’s farewell had had much of meaning in
-it, the sweet face suffused with sympathy as she shook hands with
-all—the mother first, then Jessie, then Harvey—and the low voice had
-dropped a word or two that told the depth and sincerity of her feeling.
-When she said good-bye to Harvey, the pressure of her hand, light and
-fluttering as it was, found a response so warm and clinging that a quick
-flush overflowed her face, before which the other’s fell, so striking
-was its beauty, so full of deep significance the message of the strong
-and soulful eyes. Her father’s child was she, and the fascination of
-sorrow had early touched her heart.
-
-The door was almost closed when David turned to call back lustily:
-
-"Oh, Harvey—Harvey, Mr. Nickle wants to see you; Geordie Nickle, you
-know; an’ if you come round to my office to-morrow about half-past four,
-I think you’ll find him there. He’s got a great scheme on; he’s the
-whitest man I ever run acrost, I think—for a Scotchman."
-
-
-
-
- *XIV*
-
- _*THE WEIGHING OF THE ANCHOR*_
-
-
-Surely the years love best to ply their industry among the young. For
-two or three of them, each taking up the work where its predecessor laid
-it down, can transform a youth or maiden to an extent that is really
-wonderful. Perhaps this is because the young lend themselves so
-cheerfully to everything that makes for change, and resent all tarrying
-on life’s alluring way. They love to make swift calls at life’s chief
-ports, so few in number though they be; they are impatient to try the
-open sea beyond, unrecking that the last harbour and the long, long
-anchorage are all too near at hand.
-
-The difference that these silent craftsmen can soon make upon a face
-might have been easily visible to any observant eye, had such an eye
-been cast one evening upon the still unbroken circle of the Simmons
-home. The mother had changed but little; nor had anything changed to
-her—unless it were that all upon which her eyes had closed shone
-brighter in the light that memory imparts. Still holding her secret
-hidden deep, her fondness for those left to her seemed but to deepen as
-the hope of her husband’s return grew more and more faint within. If the
-hidden tragedy delved an ever deeper wound under cover of her silence,
-it had no outward token but an intenser love towards those from whom she
-had so long concealed it.
-
-But Jessie and Harvey had turned the time to good account. For the
-former had almost left behind the stage of early childhood, merging now
-into the roundness and plumpness—and consciousness, too—that betoken a
-girl’s approach to the sunlit hills of womanhood.
-
-Yet Harvey had changed the most of all. The stalwart form had taken to
-itself the proportions of opening manhood—height, firmness, breadth of
-shoulders, length of limb, all made a strong and comely frame. The
-poise of the head indicated resolute activity, and the evening light
-that now played upon his face revealed a countenance in which sincerity,
-seriousness, hopefulness, might be traced by a practiced eye. Humour,
-too, was there—that twin sister unto seriousness—maintaining its own
-place in the large eyes that had room for other things beside; and the
-glance that was sometimes turned upon the autumn scene without, but
-oftener upon his mother and his sister, was eloquent of much that lay
-behind. The tuition of his soul had left its mark upon his face. Early
-begun and relentlessly continued, it had taught him much of life, of
-life’s ways and life’s severities—not a little, too, of the tactics she
-demands from all who would prevail in the stern battle for which he had
-been compelled so early to enlist. New duties, unusual
-responsibilities, severe mental exercise such as serious study gives,
-stern self-denial, constant thought of others, these had conspired to
-provide the manly seriousness upon the still almost boyish face.
-
-Autumn reigned without, as has been already said, and in robes of gold.
-Glowing and glorious, the oak and the elm and the maple wrapt in bridal
-garments, glad nature went onward to her death, mute preceptress to
-pagan Christians as to how they too should die.
-
-A graver autumn reigned within. For the little circle was to be broken
-on the morrow, and the humble home was passing through one of earth’s
-truest crises, giving up an inmate to the storm and peril of the great
-world without. The world itself may smile, stretching forth indifferent
-hands to receive the outgoing life; what cares the ocean for another
-swimmer as he joins the struggling throng?—but was the surrender ever
-made without tumult and secret tears?
-
-"Look, look," Jessie cried, as she turned her face a moment from the
-pane; "there goes Cecil and Madeline—I guess he’s taking her for a
-farewell drive."
-
-In spite of himself, Harvey joined his sister at the window.
-
-"Is Madeline with him?" he said, throwing quite an unusual note of
-carelessness into the words.
-
-"Yes, that’s the second time they’ve driven past here—at least, I’m
-almost sure it was them before," Jessie averred, straining her neck a
-little to follow the disappearing carriage.
-
-"I wonder what he’ll do with his horse when he’s away," Harvey pursued,
-bent on an irrelevant theme, and thankful that the light was dim. The
-inward riot that disturbed him would have been much allayed could he
-have known that the parade before their door was of Madeline’s own
-contriving; presuming, that is, that he understood the combination of
-the woman-heart.
-
-"Doesn’t it seem strange, Harvey, that you and Cecil should start for
-the University the very same day?—he’s going on the same train in the
-morning, isn’t he?" enquired Jessie, her eyes abandoning their pursuit.
-
-"I think so," her brother answered carelessly. "Jessie," he digressed
-decisively, "I want you to promise me something. I’m going to write you
-a letter every week, and I want you to take and read it—or nearly all of
-it; sometimes there’ll be bits you can’t—to Mr. Nickle. If it weren’t
-for him—for him and Mr. Borland—I wouldn’t be going to college at all,
-as you know."
-
-"That I will," the sister answered heartily; "I think he’s just the
-dearest old man. And I can manage it easily enough—there’s hardly a day
-but he comes into the store to buy something. He and Mr. Borland always
-seem to be wanting something, something that we’ve always got, too.
-They must eat an awful lot of sweet stuff between them. And every time
-Mr. Nickle comes in, he says: ’Weel, hoo’s the scholarship laddie the
-day?’—he’s awfully proud about you getting the scholarship, Harvey."
-
-Her brother’s face brightened. "Well there’s one thing I’m mighty glad
-of," he said, "and that is that I won’t be very much of a charge for my
-first year at any rate—that hundred and fifty will help to see me
-through."
-
-"But you mustn’t stint yourself, Harvey," the mother broke in with
-tender tone. "You must get a nice comfortable place to board in, and
-have a good warm bed—and lots of good nourishing things to eat. I know
-I’ll often be waking up in the night and wondering if you’re cold. Do
-you know, dear," she went on, her voice trembling a little, "we’ve never
-been a night separated since you were born—it’s going to be hard for a
-while, I’m afraid," she said a little brokenly as the youth nestled down
-beside her, his head resting on her lap as in the old childhood days.
-
-"It’ll be harder for me, mother," he said; "but I think I’d be almost
-happy if you were well again. It nearly breaks my heart to think of
-leaving you here in—in the dark," he concluded, his arm stealing fondly
-about her neck.
-
-The woman bended low to his caress. "Don’t, Harvey—you mustn’t. It’s
-not the dark—it’s never dark where Christ abides," she broke out with a
-fervour that almost startled him, for it was but rarely that she spoke
-like this. "I’ve got so much to thank God for, my son—it’s always light
-where love makes it light. And I’m so proud and happy that you’re going
-to get the chance you need, Harvey. Oh, but He’s been good to my little
-ones," she cried, her voice thrilling with the note of real gratitude
-that is heard, strangely enough, only from those who sit among the
-shadows. The noblest notes of praise have come from lips of pain.
-
-"You’ll write to me, won’t you, mother?—you’ll tell Jessie what to say,
-and it’ll be almost like getting it from yourself."
-
-"Oh, yes," she answered quickly, "and I’ll always be able to sign my
-name. And if you’re ever in trouble, Harvey—or if you’re ever
-tempted—and that’s sure to come in a great city like the one you’re
-going to—remember your mother’s praying for you. I’m laid aside, I
-know, my son, and there’s not much now that I can do; but there’s one
-thing left to me—I have the throne of grace; and if any one knows its
-comfort, surely it’s your mother."
-
-"Mother, won’t you tell me something?" he interrupted decisively.
-
-"What is it, my son?"
-
-"Isn’t there something else, mother—some other sorrow, I mean—that I
-don’t know about? I’ve had a feeling for a long time that there was—was
-something else."
-
-The mother was long in answering. But she raised her hand and drew his
-arm tighter about her neck, the protecting love very sweet. "There’s
-nothing but what I get grace to bear—don’t ask me more, my child," and
-as she spoke the bending boy felt the hot tears begin to fall. They
-soon came thick and fast, for the mother’s heart was melting within her,
-and as he felt the sacred drops upon his head the son’s soul rose up in
-purpose and devotion, making its solemn vow that he would be worthy of a
-love so great.
-
-The evening wore away, every hour precious to them all. Very simple and
-homely were the counsels that fell from the mother’s lips; that he must
-be careful about making new acquaintances, especially such as would hail
-him on the street, and speak his name, and cite his friends in
-witness—they doubtless all knew about the scholarship money; that he
-must study with his light behind him—not in front—and never later than
-half-past ten; that a couple of pairs of stockings, at the very least,
-must always be on hand in case of wet feet and resultant colds; that if
-cold in bed, he must ask for extra covering—he simply must not be afraid
-to ask for what he wants; that he must be very careful on those crowded
-city streets, especially of the electric cars; that in case of illness
-he must telegraph immediately, regardless of expense; that he must not
-forsake the Bible-class on Sabbath afternoons, but find one there and
-enroll himself at once; that he must accept gladly if fine people asked
-him to their homes, caring nothing though other students may be better
-dressed than he—they didn’t get the scholarship, anyhow.
-
-And Harvey promised all. More than likely that he took the admonitions
-lightly; he was not so much concerned with them as with the conflicting
-emotions that possessed him, eager joy that the battle was about to
-begin in earnest and yearning sympathy for the devoted hearts he was to
-leave behind. If all to which he was going forth loomed before him as a
-battle, it was as a delicious battle, whose process should be perpetual
-pleasure, its issue decisive victory. No thought of its real peril, its
-subtle conflict, its despairing hours, marred the prospect of the
-beckoning years; he knew not how he would yet revise his estimates as to
-who are our real enemies, nor did he dream that his fiercest foes would
-be found within—and that the battle of inward living is, after all has
-been said and done, the battle of life itself.
-
-"And now, my children," the mother said at last when the evening was far
-spent, "we’d better go to our rest, for we’ll need to be up early in the
-morning. But I want to have a little prayer with you before we
-part—we’ll just kneel here;" and she sank beside her chair, an arm about
-either child. It was quite dark, for none seemed to wish a light—they
-knew it could add nothing to the mother’s vision—and in simple, earnest
-words, sometimes choking with the emotion she could not control, she
-committed her treasures to her God. "Oh, keep his youthful feet, our
-Father," the trustful voice implored, "and never let them wander from
-the path; help him in his studies and strengthen him in his soul—and
-keep us here at home in Thy blessed care, and let us all meet again.
-For Jesus’ sake."
-
-The light—that light that they enjoy who need no candle’s glow—was about
-them as they arose, the mother’s hand in Jessie’s as they turned away.
-Harvey sought the shelter of the room that was so soon to be his no
-more. He closed the door as he entered, falling on his knees beside the
-bed to echo his mother’s prayer. Then he hurriedly undressed and was
-soon fast asleep.
-
-It was hours after, the silent night hurrying towards the dawn, when he
-suddenly awoke, somewhat startled. For he felt a hand upon his brow,
-and the clothes were tight about him. Looking up, he dimly discerned
-his mother’s face; white-robed, she was bending over him.
-
-"Don’t be frightened, Harvey; go to sleep, dear—it’s only me. I wanted
-to tuck you in once more, like I used to do when you were little. Oh,
-Harvey," and a half cry escaped her as she bent down and put her arms
-about him, "I don’t know how to give you up—but go to sleep, dear, go to
-sleep."
-
-But Harvey was now wide awake, clinging to his mother. "Don’t go," he
-said, "stay with me a little."
-
-There was a long silence. At last Harvey spoke:
-
-"What are you thinking about, mother?"
-
-The woman drew her shawl tighter about her shoulders and settled herself
-on the bed. "I think I’ll tell you, Harvey," she said in a whisper; "it
-seems easier to tell you in the dark—and when Jessie’s asleep."
-
-"What is it?" he asked eagerly. "Is it anything that’s hard to say?"
-
-"Yes, my son, it’s hard to tell—but I think I ought to tell it. Are you
-wide awake, Harvey?"
-
-"Yes, mother. What is it?" he asked again.
-
-"Do you remember, Harvey, the night you went to join the church?—and how
-I walked with you as far as the door?—and we went into the cemetery
-together? Don’t you remember, Harvey?"
-
-"Yes, mother, of course I do. But why?"
-
-"Can you remember how, when we were standing at the baby’s grave, you
-asked me why your father never joined the church, and I said he didn’t
-think he was good enough—and you asked me why, and I said I’d tell you
-some time. Do you remember that, my son?"
-
-"Yes," Harvey answered slowly, his mind working fast.
-
-"Well, I’m going to tell you now. Your father was so good to me,
-Harvey—at least, nearly always. But he used"—she buried her face in the
-pillow—"this is what I’m going to tell you, Harvey; he used—he used to
-drink sometimes."
-
-The form beside her lay still as death. "Sometimes he used to—we were
-so happy, till that began. And oh, Harvey, nobody can ever know what a
-dreadful struggle it is, till they’ve seen it as I saw it. For he loved
-you, my son, he loved you and Jessie like his own soul—and it was the
-company he got into—and some discouragements—and things like that, that
-were to blame for it. But the struggle was terrible, Harvey—like
-fighting with one of those dreadful snakes that winds itself about you.
-And I could do so little to help him."
-
-She could feel his breath coming fast, his lips almost against her
-cheek. A little tremor preceded his question. "Was he—was father all
-right when he died?"
-
-It was well he could not see the tell-tale lips, nor catch the quiver
-that wrung the suffering face. "Oh, Harvey," she began tremblingly, "I
-asked you never to speak of that—it hurts me so. And I wanted to tell
-you," she hurried evasively on, "that his own father had the same
-failing before him. And I’m so frightened, Harvey, so frightened—about
-you—you know it often descends from father to son. And when I think of
-you all alone in the big city—oh, Harvey, I want you to——" and the rest
-was smothered in sobs as the sorrow-riven bosom rose and fell, the tears
-streaming from the sightless eyes.
-
-Both of Harvey’s arms were tight about his mother, his broken voice
-whispering his vow with passionate affection.
-
-"Never, mother, never; I promise," he murmured. "Oh, my mother, you’ve
-had so much of sorrow—if you want me, I won’t go away at all. I’ll stay
-and take care of you and Jessie, if you want me, mother," the strong
-arms clinging tighter. But she hushed the suggestion with a word,
-gently withdrawing herself and kissing him good-night again.
-
-"Go to sleep, my son," she said gently; "you’ve got a long journey
-before you," and he knew the significance of the words; "God has given
-me far more of joy than sorrow," as she felt her way to the door and
-onwards to her room.
-
-Long he lay awake, engulfed in a very tumult of thoughts and memories;
-finally he fell into a restless slumber. The day was dimly breaking
-when he suddenly awoke, thinking he heard a noise. Stealing from his
-bed, he crept across the room, peering towards his mother’s. He could
-see her in the uncertain light; she was bending over his trunk, the
-object of her solicitude for many a previous day, and her hands were
-evidently groping for something within. Soon they reappeared, and he
-could see a Bible in them, new and beautiful. She had a pen in one
-hand, and for a moment she felt about the adjoining table for the
-ink-well she knew was there. Finding it, the poor ill-guided pen sought
-the fly-leaf of the book she held; it took long, but it was love’s
-labour and was done with care. She waited till the ink was dry, then
-closed the volume, kissed it with longing tenderness and replaced it in
-the trunk. Rising, she made her way to a chest of drawers, opened one or
-two before her hands fell on what she wanted, and then produced a little
-box carefully wrapped in oilcloth. Some little word she scrawled upon
-it, and the unpretentious parcel—only some simple luxury that a mother’s
-love had provided against sterner days—was deposited at the very bottom
-of the trunk. She closed the lid and kneeled reverently beside the now
-waiting token of departure; Harvey crept back to his bed again, his
-sight well-nigh as dim as hers. When the little family gathered the next
-morning at the breakfast-table the mother’s face bore a look of deep
-content, as if some burden had been taken from her mind. And the
-valiant display of cheerfulness on the part of all three was quite
-successful, each marvelling at the sprightliness of the other two. They
-were just in the middle of the meal when the tinkling bell called Jessie
-to the shop. A moment later she returned, bearing a resplendent cluster
-of roses. "They’re for you, Harvey," she said, "and I think it’s a
-great shame—boys never care anything for flowers. They ought to be for
-me." But she did not hand them to her brother, nor did he seem to
-expect them. For she walked straight to the mother’s chair, holding
-them before her; and the patient face sank among them, drinking deep of
-their rich fragrance.
-
-"Who sent them, Jessie?" her brother asked with vigorous brevity.
-
-"I don’t know—the boy wouldn’t tell. He said ’a party’ gave him ten
-cents to hand them in—and the party didn’t want the name given. I hate
-that ’party’ business; you can’t tell whether it’s a man or a woman. I
-guess it wasn’t a man, though—look at the ribbon."
-
-One would have said that Harvey thought so too, judging by the light on
-his face. "I’ll take the ribbon," he said, "and just one rose—you and
-mother can have the rest."
-
-"Then you’re sure it wasn’t a man sent them?" returned the knowing
-Jessie.
-
-"No, I’m not—what makes you say that?"
-
-"Well—what are you taking the ribbon for, if you’re not?"
-
-"Because—because, well, because it’s useful, for one thing; I can tie my
-lunch up in it, or a book or two—anything like that," Harvey replied,
-smiling at his adroit defense. "Who’s this—why, if it’s not Mr. Nickle
-and Mr. Borland!" rising as he spoke to greet the most welcome guests.
-
-"Ye’ll hae to pardon us, Mrs. Simmons," Geordie’s cheery voice was the
-first to say; "David here brocht me richt through the shop, richt ben
-the hoose, wi’oot rappin’. We wantit to say good-bye till the
-laddie—only he’s mair a man nor a laddie noo."
-
-"It was Mr. Nickle that dragged me in by the scuff o’ the neck,"
-interjected Mr. Borland, nodding to all the company at once. "When he
-smelt the porridge, you couldn’t see him for dust. Hello! where’d you
-get the roses?—look awful like the vintage out at our place. Don’t
-rise, Mrs. Simmons; we just dropped in to tell Harvey tra-la-la."
-
-"I’m glad to find ye’re at the porridge, laddie," Geordie said genially,
-as he took the chair Jessie had handed him. "The porridge laddies aye
-leads their class at the college, they tell me—dinna let them gie ye ony
-o’ yon ither trash they’re fixin’ up these days to dae instead o’
-porridge; there’s naethin’ like the guid auld oatmeal."
-
-"You Scotch folks give me a pain," broke in David; "how any one can eat
-the stuff, I can’t make out. The fact is, I don’t believe Scotchmen
-like it themselves—only it’s cheap, an’ it fills up the hired men so
-they can’t eat anythin’ else. Unless it’s because their ancestors ate
-it," he continued thoughtfully. "I’ll bet my boots there’s Scotchmen in
-Glenallen that’s eatin’ porridge to-day jest because their grandfathers
-ate it; an’ they’ll put it down if it kills ’em—an’ their kids’ll eat it
-too or else they’ll know the reason why. It’d be just the same if it
-was bran—they’d have to walk the plank. But there ain’t no horse blood
-in me, thank goodness," he concluded fervently.
-
-"Jealousy’s an awfu’ sair disease," retorted Geordie, smiling pitifully
-at the alien; "but we canna a’ be Scotch."
-
-"I’m so glad you came in," Harvey began, turning to his visitors as the
-laughter subsided; "we were just speaking of your kindness last
-night—and I’m glad to have a chance to thank you again just before I go
-away."
-
-"Stap it," Geordie interrupted sternly. "That’s plenty o’ that kind o’
-thing—I’ll gang oot if there’s ony mair, mind ye," he declared
-vehemently, for there are few forms of pain more intolerable to natures
-such as his.
-
-"You’ll have to be careful, Harvey," cautioned Mr. Borland; "he’s one o’
-the kind that don’t want their left hand to know the stunt their right
-hand’s doin’. Very few Scotchmen likes the left hand to get next to
-what the right one’s at—it wouldn’t know much, poor thing, in the most
-o’ cases," he added pitifully—"but our friend here’s a rare kind of a
-Scotchman. By George, them’s terrible fine roses," he digressed, taking
-a whiff of equine proportions.
-
-"I canna gang till the station wi’ ye, Harvey—David’s gaein’," said
-Geordie Nickle, taking his staff and rising to his feet, "but guid-bye,
-my laddie, an’ the blessin’ o’ yir mither’s God be wi’ ye," and the
-kindly hand was unconsciously laid on Harvey’s head. "We’re expectin’
-graun’ things o’ ye at the college. I mind fine the mornin’ I left my
-faither’s hoose in Hawick; he aye lifted the tune himsel’ at family
-worship—an’ that mornin’, I mind the way his voice was quaverin’. These
-was the words:
-
- ’Oh, spread Thy coverin’ wings around
- Till all our wanderin’s cease,’
-
-an’ I dinna ken onythin’ better for yirsel’ the day. Guid-bye, my
-laddie—an’ ’a stoot heart tae a steep brae’, ye ken."
-
-As Harvey returned from seeing the old man to the door, Jessie beckoned
-him aside into his room, not yet set to rights after his fitful slumbers
-of the night before.
-
-"Harvey," she began in very serious tones, "I only want to say a word;
-it’s to give a promise—and to get one. And I want you to promise me
-faithfully, Harvey."
-
-"What is it, sister?" he asked, his gaze resting fondly on the girlish
-face.
-
-"Well, it’s just this. You see this room?" Harvey nodded. "And this
-bed?—you know I’m going to have your room after you’re gone. Well, it’s
-about mother—I’m going to pray for her here every night; right here,"
-touching the side of the bed as she spoke. "Dr. Fletcher said it would
-be sure to help—I mean for her sight to come back again; I asked him
-once at Sunday-school."
-
-"The doctor in the city told me that, too," broke in her brother.
-
-"Dr. Fletcher knows better’n him," the other declared firmly—"he said
-God made lots o’ people see because other people prayed. An’ I want you
-to always ask the same thing—at the same time, Harvey, at the very same
-time; an’ when I’m asking here, I’ll know you’re doing the very same
-wherever you are. You’ll promise me, won’t you, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey’s heart was full; and the unsteadiness that marked his words was
-not from any lack of sympathy and purpose. "What time, Jessie?" he
-asked in a moment. "Would eight o’clock be a good time?"
-
-"I don’t think so," the girl said after pondering a moment. "You see,
-I’ll often be in bed at eight—I’m going to work very hard, you know. I
-think half-past seven would be better."
-
-Thus was the solemn tryst arranged, and Harvey bade his sister good-bye
-before he passed without for the last farewell to his mother.
-
-No tears, no outward sign, marked the emotion of the soulful moment, and
-soon Harvey and Mr. Borland had started for the station. Once, and only
-once, did the youth look behind; and he saw his mother’s tender face,
-unseeing, but still turned in wistful yearning towards her departing
-son. Jessie was clinging to her skirts, her face hidden—but the
-mother’s was bright in its strength and hopefulness, and the image sank
-into his heart, never to be effaced.
-
-It was evident, from the long silence he preserved, that David was
-reflecting upon things in general. Harvey was coming to understand him
-pretty well, and knew that the product would be forthcoming shortly.
-Nor was he disappointed.
-
-"They’re great on givin’ advice, ain’t they?"
-
-"Who?" enquired Harvey, smiling in advance.
-
-"Them Scotch folks—they’d like awful well to be omnipotent, wouldn’t
-they? It’s pretty nigh the only thing they think they lack. It’s great
-fun to hear a Scotchman layin’ down the law; they don’t see no use in
-havin’ ten commandments unless they’re kept—by other people."
-
-"You’re not referring to Mr. Nickle, are you?" ventured Harvey.
-
-"Oh, no! bless my soul. Geordie’s all wool and sixteen ounces to the
-pound," responded Mr. Borland, prodigal of his metaphors. "That’s what
-set me thinkin’ of Scotchmen in general, ’cause they’re so different
-from Geordie. That was an elegant programme he fired at you there;
-what’s this it was, again?—oh, yes, ’when it’s stiff climbin’, keep your
-powder dry’—somethin’ like that, wasn’t it?"
-
-"He gave it the Scotch," answered Harvey, "’a stoot heart tae a steep
-brae,’ I think it was."
-
-"That’s what I said," affirmed David, "an’ it’s a bully motto. It’s
-mine," he avowed, turning and looking gravely at Harvey. "I heard a
-fellow advertisin’ a nigger show onct; he was on top of the tavern
-sheds, with a megaphone. ’If you can’t laugh, don’t come,’ he was
-bellerin’—an’ I thought it was elegant advice. Kind o’ stuck to me all
-these years. You take it yourself, boy, an’ act on it—you’ll have lots
-of hard ploughin’ afore you’re through."
-
-"It suits me all right," Harvey responded cheerfully; "they say
-laughter’s good medicine."
-
-"The very best—every one should have a hogshead a day; it washes out
-your insides, you see. If a man can’t laugh loud, he ain’t a good man,
-I say. I was talkin’ about that to Robert McCaig the other day—you know
-him, he’s the elder—terrible nice man he was, too, till he got
-religion—an’ then he took an awful chill. By and by he got to be an
-elder—an’ then he froze right to the bottom. Well, he’s agin
-laughin’—says it’s frivolous, you see. I told him the solemnest people
-was the frivolousest—used the rich fool for an illustration; he was
-terrible solemn, but he was a drivellin’ _ejut_ inside, to my way o’
-thinkin’. Robert up an’ told me we don’t read of the Apostle Paul ever
-laughin’—thought he had me. What do you think I gave him back?"
-
-"Couldn’t imagine," said Harvey, quite truthfully.
-
-"’That don’t prove nothin’,’ says I; ’we don’t ever read of him takin’ a
-bath, or gettin’ his hair cut,’ says I, ’but it was him that said
-godliness was next to cleanliness.’ An’ Robert got mad about it—that’s
-how I knew I had him beat. He said I was irreverent—but that ain’t no
-argyment, is it?" appealed David seriously.
-
-His companion’s opinion, doubtless favourable, was hindered of
-expression by the snort of the approaching locomotive, signal for a
-sprint that was rather vigorous for further exchange of views. There
-was barely time for the purchase of a ticket and the checking of the
-trunk, the conductor already standing with one eye on the baggage truck
-and the other on the grimy figure that protruded from the engine window.
-
-"I ain’t Scotch," David said hurriedly, as he and Harvey stood together
-at the rear platform of the train, "but I had a father, for all that,
-just the same as all them Sandys seem to have. An’ when I was pikin’
-out to find the trail—it’s a long time ago—the old man stood just like
-I’m standin’ here with you, an’ he says to me: ’David,’ he says, ’trust
-in God an’ do your duty.’ An’ I believe them’s the best runnin’ orders
-on the road. The old Sandys can’t beat that much, can they?"
-
-Harvey had no chance to make reply; for almost in the same breath David
-went on, thrusting an envelope into his hand as he spoke: "Here’s a
-letter of interduction I want you to present to a fellow in the
-city—he’s the teller in the Merchants’ Bank, an’ you might find him
-helpful," David concluded with a hemispheric grin; "hope you’ll endorse
-my suggestion," he added, the grin becoming spherical.
-
-Harvey tried to protest as best he could, protest and gratitude
-mingling; but the train was already moving out and his communications
-were chiefly in tableau.
-
-"That’s all right," David roared above the din; "good-bye, my boy.
-Remember Geordie Nickle’s motto—an’ don’t blow out the gas."
-
-
-
-
- *XV*
-
- _*A PARENTAL PARLEY*_
-
-
-"Better eat all you can, Madeline; you can’t never tell when you’re
-goin’ to have your last square meal these days," and David deposited
-another substantial helping on his daughter’s plate.
-
-"Why, father, what’s the matter? What’s making you so despondent all of
-a sudden?" Madeline asked in semi-seriousness, following her father’s
-advice the while.
-
-"You don’t understand your father, Madeline—he’s always joking, you
-know," interjected Mrs. Borland. "You shouldn’t make light of such
-solemn matters, David," she went on, turning to her husband, "hunger’s
-nothing to jest about."
-
-"Exactly what I was sayin’," responded David, "an’ if things goes on
-like they promise now, you an’ Madeline’ll have to take in washin’ to
-support this family—that’s the gospel truth."
-
-"I don’t believe father’s in fun," Madeline persisted. "Anything go
-wrong to-day with business matters?" she enquired, looking across the
-table at her father.
-
-That David was in earnest was obvious enough. "Everything wrong,
-appearin’ly," he said, rolling up his napkin and returning it to its
-ring. "The men’s goin’ to strike—seems to me there’s a strike every
-other alternate day," he went on. "Doin’ business nowadays is like a
-bird tryin’ to hatch out eggs when they’re cuttin’ down the tree—some o’
-them darned firebrands from St. Louis have been stirrin’ up the men; a
-lot o’ lazy man-eaters," he concluded vehemently.
-
-"What do the men want, David?" his wife asked innocently.
-
-Mr. Borland looked at her incredulously. "What do they want—the same
-old thing they’ve been wantin’ ever since Adam went into the fruit
-business—less work an’ more pay. An’ they’ve appointed a couple o’
-fellows—a delegation they call it—to wait on the manufacturers privately
-an’ present their claims. There’s two different fellows to interview
-each man—an’ they’re comin’ here to-night. They didn’t tell me they was
-comin’—I jest heard it casual."
-
-"To-night!" echoed Mrs. Borland, "where’ll they sit?"
-
-"Chairs, I reckon," replied her spouse.
-
-"You’re so facetious, David. Where’ll they sit when they’re talking to
-you?—you know what I mean."
-
-"Oh, I reckon we’ll have it out in the den—there’ll be lots o’ growlin’,
-anyhow. I’m not worryin’ much about where they sit; it’s the stand they
-take that troubles me the most," and David indulged a well-earned smile.
-
-"You’re very gay about it, father," Madeline chimed in, "making merry
-with the English language."
-
-"There’s no use o’ bein’ gay when everything all right, daughter; that’s
-like turnin’ on the light when it’s twelve o’clock noon. But when
-things is breakin’ up on you, then’s your time to cut up dog a little.
-I’m a terrible believer in sunshine, Madeline—the home-made kind, in
-particular. I always tell the croakers that every man should have a
-sunshine plant inside of him—when the outside kind gives out, why, let
-him start his little mill inside, an’ then he’s independent as a pig on
-ice. An’ really, it’s kind o’ natural—there’s nothin’ so refreshin’ as
-difficulties, in a certain sense. Leastways, that’s the kind of an
-animal I am—when I’m on the turf, give me a hurdle now an’ again to make
-it interestin’."
-
-"Is this a pretty stiff business hurdle you’ve got to get over now?"
-asked Madeline, as she smiled admiringly at the home-bred philosophy.
-
-"Well, it’s stiff enough. Of course, I’ve done pretty good in the
-foundry—ain’t in it for my health. But it’s terrible uncertain; you
-know the Scriptur’ says the first shall be last—an’ it’s often that way
-in business. We’re really not makin’ hardly any money these days; of
-course, if you tell the men that, they—they close one eye," said David,
-illustrating the process as he spoke. "Where are you off to, Madeline?"
-he asked abruptly, for his daughter had passed into the hall and was
-putting on her cloak.
-
-"I’m going for my lesson—I’m taking wood-carving, you know. Pretty soon
-I’ll be able to do it myself; and then I’m going to make lots of pretty
-things and sell them. My class and I are going to support four India
-famine children," she said proudly.
-
-"Bully for you! You’ll do the carvin’, an’ they’ll do the eatin’—I
-suppose that’s the idea."
-
-Madeline’s merry laughter was still pealing as she closed the door
-behind her. Mrs. Borland turned a rather fretful face to her husband.
-
-"She’s taken a class in Sunday-school," she said, lifting her eyebrows
-to convey some idea of her opinion on the subject. "I did my best to
-dissuade her, but it was no use."
-
-"What in thunder did you want to prevent her for?" asked David.
-
-"Oh, well, you understand. They’re a very ordinary lot, I’m afraid—just
-the kind of children I’ve always tried to keep her away from. I never
-heard one of their names before."
-
-"I think she’s a reg’lar brick to tackle them," returned her husband.
-"It does me good to see Madeline takin’ that turn—nearly all the girls
-her age is jest about as much use as a sofa-tidy, with their teas an’
-five-o’clocks an’ at-homes, an’ all them other diseases," David
-continued scornfully. "It’s all right to have girls learned——"
-
-"Taught, David," corrected his wife.
-
-"It’s the same thing," retorted Mr. Borland. "I’m too old for you to
-learn me them new words, mother—it’s all right, as I was sayin’, to get
-them learned an’ taught how to work in china, an’ ivory, an’ wood an’
-hay an’ stubble, as the good book says, but it’s far better to see them
-workin’ a little in human bein’s. It must be terrible interestin’ to
-try your hand on an immortal soul—them kind o’ productions lasts a
-while. So don’t go an’ cool her off, mother—you let her stick to them
-kids without names if she wants to."
-
-"But she tells me, David, she tells me some of them come to
-Sunday-school without washing their hands or faces."
-
-"Tell her to wear buckskin mits," said Mr. Borland gravely.
-
-"It’s all very well to laugh, David—but they seem to have all sorts of
-things wrong with them. Madeline told me one day how she couldn’t get
-the attention of the class because one of them kept winding and
-unwinding a rag on his sore finger for all the class to see it; he said
-a rat bit it in the night."
-
-"Rough on rats’d soon fix them," said David reflectively; "I mind out in
-the barn one time——"
-
-"But I’m serious, David," remonstrated Mrs. Borland; "and there’s
-something else I hardly like to tell you. But only last Sunday Madeline
-was telling me—she laughed about it, but I didn’t—how she asked one of
-the boys why he wasn’t there the Sunday before, and he said: ’Please,
-ma’am, I had the shingles.’"
-
-"Shingles ain’t catchin’," declared David, as he gasped for breath.
-"Ha, ha, ha!" he roared, "that’s the richest I’ve heard since the nigger
-show. Ha, ha! that’s a good one—that’s the kind of a class I’d like to
-have. None o’ your silk-sewed kids for me, with their white chiffon an’
-pink bows! It seems a sin for them teachers to have so much fun on
-Sundays, don’t it?" and David extricated his shank from beneath the
-table, venting his mirth upon it with many a resounding slap.
-
-Mrs. Borland sighed discouragedly. "Well," she said at length, "I
-suppose there are greater troubles in life than that. In fact, I was
-just thinking of one of them when you were speaking about where you’d
-entertain the men when they come to-night."
-
-"I’m afeard what I’ll say won’t entertain them a terrible lot," said
-David, passing his cup for further stimulus as he thought of the ordeal.
-
-"Well, about where you’ll talk to them, then," amended Mrs. Borland.
-"My trouble’s something the same. Only it’s about the servants; at
-least it’s about Letitia—she’s the new one. It seems she belongs to a
-kind of an Adventist church, and she told me this morning that the Rev.
-Mr. Gurkle, the minister, is coming up to call on her some afternoon
-this week. And she asked where would she receive him! Receive him, mind
-you, David—she’s going to _receive_! And she asked me where—asked me
-where she’d receive him."
-
-"Well, that was natural enough. What did you tell her?" David asked,
-marvelling at the agitation of which the feminine mind is capable.
-
-"Why, I told her where else would she receive him except in the
-kitchen—you don’t suppose my maids are going to entertain their company
-in the parlour, do you, David?"
-
-Mr. Borland turned his face reflectively towards the wall, gazing at the
-lurid painting of a three-year-old who had been the pride of last year’s
-fair. Finally he spoke: "Yes, Martha, I reckon she will. I ain’t much
-of an interfere!—but there ain’t agoin’ to to be no minister of the
-Gospel set down in the kitchen in this house. Black clothes is too easy
-stained. Besides, it ain’t the way I was raised."
-
-"But, David, surely you don’t——"
-
-"Yes, I do—that’s jest exactly what I do. I know this Gurkle
-man—dropped into his church one night when some revival meetin’s was
-goin’ on. He’s a little sawed-off fellow, with a wig—an’ his cuffs has
-teeth like a bucksaw—an’ he wears a white tie that looks like a horse’s
-hames. An’ he has an Adam’s apple like a door-knocker; it kept goin’
-an’ comin’ that night, for there was a terrible lot of feelin’ in the
-meetin’. An’ Mr. Gurkle was a cryin’ part of the time, an’ he’s that
-cross-eyed that the tears run over the bridge of his nose, both
-different ways. But I believe he’s a good little man—an there ain’t
-goin’ to be no minister asquintin’ round the kitchen in this house.
-He’s goin’ to the parlour, mother. The kitchen’s all right for
-courtin’—come in there myself the other night when Mary had her steady
-company; there was three chairs—an’ two of ’em was empty. That’s all
-right for courtin’—it don’t need no conveniences, nor no light, nor
-nothin’. Two young folks an’ a little human natur’s all you need for
-that. But prayin’ an’ sayin’ catechism’s hard enough at the best; so I
-reckon they’ll have to do it in the parlour, mother," and Mr. Borland
-rose from his chair and moved slowly towards the window, patting his
-wife playfully on the shoulder as he passed.
-
-"By George, here they are," he suddenly exclaimed; "I believe that’s
-them comin’ now."
-
-"Who?" asked his consort, not with much zest of tone. She was still
-ruminating on her maid’s religious advantages.
-
-"It’s the delegation—it’s them two fellows that’s goin’ to present the
-claims of the union. They’re turnin’ in at the carriage gate, sure’s
-you’re livin’."
-
-"I’m going up-stairs," announced Mrs. Borland. "I’ve got to fill out
-some invitations for an at-home next week—you don’t mind my leaving,
-David?"
-
-"No, no, mother, certainly not. Far better for you not to be around.
-You see, certain kinds o’ labour agitators is always complainin’ that
-the manufacturers jest lives among beautiful things; an’ you’re the
-principal one in this house, mother; so I reckon you better slope," and
-David’s hand was very gentle as it went out to touch the frosting locks.
-Mrs. Borland smiled indifferently at the compliment, secretly hugging it
-the while. Every true woman does likewise; the proffered pearl is
-carelessly glanced at and permitted to fall to the ground—then she
-swiftly covers it with one nimble foot, and solitary hours yet to come
-are enriched by communion with its radiance.
-
-
-
-
- *XVI*
-
- _*DAVID THE DIPLOMAT*_
-
-
-His wife was hardly half-way up the stairs before David was in the
-height of perfervid activity. "I’ll have an at-home myself," he
-muttered under his breath; "I’ll have a male at-home," as he rang the
-bell.
-
-"Yes, Mr. Borland," said the maid, parishioner to the Rev. Mr. Gurkle,
-as she appeared in answer.
-
-"Take all them dishes away," he instructed breathlessly; "all the eatin’
-stuff, I mean," waving his hand over the suggestive ruins. "Is there
-any salt herrin’s in the house?"
-
-"Yes, sir, there’s always herrin’s on Friday; we keep ’em for
-Thomas—Thomas is a Roman," she said solemnly, an expression on her face
-that showed she was thinking of the judgment day.
-
-David grinned. "I’ll bet the Pope couldn’t tell one from a mutton chop
-to save his life," he said; "but anyhow, put three herrin’s on the
-table—an’ a handful o’ soda crackers—an’ some prunes," he directed
-quickly, "an’ make some green tea—make it strong enough to float a
-man-o’-war. By George, there’s the bell—when everything fixed, you come
-in to the sittin’-room an’ tell me supper’s ready—supper, mind,
-Letitia."
-
-Then he hurried through the hall to the door, flinging it wide open.
-
-"Why, if this ain’t you, Mr. Hunter," he cried delightedly, "an’ I’m
-blamed if this ain’t Mr. Glady," giving a hand to each. "Come away in.
-Come on in to the sittin’-room—parlours always makes me think it’s
-Sunday."
-
-The men followed in a kind of dream. Mr. Hunter’s embarrassment took a
-delirious form, the poor man spending several minutes in a vain attempt
-to hang his hat on the antlers of a monster head about three feet beyond
-his utmost reach. Finally it fell into a bowl of goldfish that stood
-beneath the antlers; great was the agitation among the finny inmates,
-but it was nothing as compared to Mr. Hunter’s.
-
-"That’s all right," David sang out cheerily; "reckon they thought it was
-an eclipse o’ the sun," he suggested. "Fling your lid on the floor—I
-hate style when you have visitors," whereupon Mr. Hunter, fearful of
-further accident, bended almost to his knees upon the floor and
-deposited the dripping article carefully beneath the sofa. Mr. Glady,
-more self-possessed, resorted to his pocket-handkerchief, his hat still
-safe upon his head. Hiding his face in the copious calico, he blew a
-blast so loud and clear, that the little fishes, mistaking it for
-Gabriel’s trump, rose with cue accord to the surface—and David’s
-favourite collie answered loudly from the kitchen. Compelled by a sense
-of propriety to reappear from the bandana, Mr. Glady began hurriedly to
-sit down and was about to sink upon the glass top of a case of
-many-coloured eggs, Madeline’s especial pride, when David flew between.
-
-"Don’t," he cried appealingly, "them’s fowl’s eggs—an’ anyhow, this
-ain’t the clockin’ season," whereupon Mr. Glady leaped so far forward
-again that he collided with a small replica of the Venus de Milo on a
-mahogany stand, the goddess and the mahogany both oscillating a little
-with the impact.
-
-Mr. Glady stared at the delicate creation, then cast quick glances about
-the floor. "Did I break off those arms?" he asked excitedly, pale as
-death.
-
-"Oh bless you, no—she was winged when she was born," said David, trying
-to breathe naturally, and imploring the men to be seated, whereat they
-slowly descended into chairs, as storm-bruised vessels creep into their
-berths.
-
-When both were safely lodged a deep silence fell. David looked
-expectantly from one to the other and each of the visitors looked
-appealingly towards his mate. Finally Mr. Glady brought his lips apart
-with a smack: "We come—we come to see you, Mr. Borland, because you’re
-an employer of labour and——"
-
-"By George, I’m glad to hear that," David chimed in gleefully; "that’s
-elegant—there’d be less jawin’ between labour an’ capital if there was
-more visitin’ back an’ furrit like this. I can’t tell you how tickled I
-am to see you both. I don’t have many visitors," he went on rather
-mournfully, "that is, in a social way. A good many drops out to see me
-with subscription lists—but they never bring their knittin’," David
-added with a melancholy smile. "Most o’ my evenin’s is very lonely.
-I’ve seen me wearyin’ so bad that I asked the missus to play on the
-pianner—an’ one night I shaved three times, to pass the time."
-
-"Please, Mr. Borland, supper’s on the table," said a small voice at the
-door.
-
-David leaped to his feet. "Come on, Mr. Hunter—come away, Mr. Glady,
-an’ we’ll get outside o’ somethin’," taking an arm of each and turning
-towards the door.
-
-The men faintly protested, pleading a similar previous operation; but
-David overbore them with sweeping cordiality. "Let’s go through the
-motions anyhow," he said. "I’m an awful delicate eater myself; the bite
-I eat, you could put in—in a hogshead," turning an amiable grin on his
-guests. "Here, you sit there, Mr. Hunter—an’ I guess that’s your stall,
-Mr. Glady; I’m sorry my missus can’t come—she’s workin’. An’ my
-daughter’s away somewhere workin’ at wood—turnin’ an honest penny. Will
-you ask a blessin’, Mr. Hunter?"
-
-Mr. Hunter stared pitifully at his host. "Tom there’ll ask it," he
-said, his lips very dry; "he used to go to singin’-school in the
-church."
-
-Mr. Glady’s head was bowed waiting. "Mr. Hunter’ll do it himself," he
-said, without moving a muscle; "his wife’s mother’s a class-leader in
-the Methodists."
-
-Whereupon the piously connected man, escape impossible now, began to
-emit a low subterranean rumble, like the initial utterances of a bottle
-full of water when it is turned upside down. But it was music to the
-ear of Mr. Glady, listening in rigid reverence.
-
-"What church do you go to, Mr. Glady?" David asked as he poured out a
-cup of tea, its vigour obvious. "Both sugar and cream, eh—Letitia, have
-we any sugar round the house?"
-
-"There’s a barrel an’ a half," the servant responded promptly.
-
-"Oh, yes, I see—fetch the half; we live awful plain, Mr. Glady. Don’t
-go to no church, did you say? Terrible mistake—why don’t you?"
-
-"Well," his guest responded slowly, "I look at it this way: if a fellow
-works all week—like us toilers does—he wants to rest on Sunday. That’s
-our rest day."
-
-"Terrible mistake," repeated David; "two spoonfuls?—it’s the workin’ men
-that needs church the most. I was readin’ in a book the other day—it
-was either the ’Home Physician’ or the dictionary, I forget which—how
-the Almighty trains the larks in England to scoot up in the air an’ sing
-right over the heads o’ the toilers, as you call ’em—the fellows workin’
-in the fields. You see, the Almighty knows they’re the kind o’ people
-needs it most—an’ they hear more of it than lords an’ ladies does. An’
-it’s them kind o’ folks everywhere that needs entertainment the most;
-an’ I don’t think there’s anythin’ entertains you like a church, the way
-it gets at the muscles you don’t use every day. If you go to sleep,
-that rests you; an’ if you keep awake, it ventilates you—so you gain
-either way. Oh, yes, every one should go to some church," he concluded
-seriously.
-
-"That’s all right for rich manufacturers," broke in Mr. Hunter; "it’s
-easy to enjoy a sermon when you’re thinkin’ of the five-course dinner
-you’ll get when it’s over. But when you’ve nothin’ afore your eyes only
-a dish of liver—an’ mebbe scorched—a sermon don’t go quite so good."
-
-"That’s jest where I’m glad to have a chance to learn you somethin’,"
-David returned with quite unwonted eagerness. It was evident he had
-struck a vein. "There ain’t near so much difference as you fellows
-think. Do have some more prunes, Mr. Glady—they don’t take up no room
-at all. As far as eatin’ is concerned, anyway, there’s terrible little
-difference. It’s a caution how the Almighty’s evened things up after
-all—that’s a favourite idea o’ mine," he went on quite earnestly, "the
-way He gives a square deal all round. In the long run, that is; you
-jest watch an’ see if it ain’t so. I ain’t terrible religious, an’ I
-ain’t related to no class-leaders, but there’s a hymn I’m mighty fond
-of—I’d give it out twicet a Sunday if I was a preacher—it has a line
-about ’My web o’ time He wove’; an’ I believe," David went on, his face
-quite aglow, "it’s the grandest truth there is. An’ I believe He puts
-in the dark bits where everybody thinks it’s all shinin’, an’ the
-shinin’ bits where everybody thinks it’s all dark—an’ that’s the way it
-goes, you see."
-
-"That’s all very fine," rejoined Mr. Glady, a little timid about what he
-wished to say, yet resolved to get it out; "that’s all very fine in
-theory—but a fellow only needs to look around to see it makes quite a
-bit o’ difference just the same," he affirmed, casting an appraising
-glance around the richly furnished room. "Money makes the mare go, all
-right."
-
-"Mebbe it does," said David, a far-off look in his eyes. "I wisht you’d
-both have some more crackers an’ prunes; mebbe it does, but it don’t
-make her go very far in—in where your feelin’s is, I mean. There’s far
-more important things than for the mare to get a gait on. Look at that
-Standard-oil fellow, out there in Cleveland, that’s got more millions
-than he has hairs. Well, money made the mare go—but if it’d make the
-hair stay, I reckon he’d like it better. They say there ain’t a hair
-between his head an’ heaven. He could drop a million apiece on his
-friends, an’ then have millions left; but they say he’s clean forgot how
-to chaw—if he takes anythin’ stronger’n Nestle’s food it acts on him
-like dynamite, an’ then he boosts up the price o’ oil—he does it kind of
-unconscious like—when he’s writhin’. I wouldn’t board with him for a
-month if he gave me the run of his vault. But there’s the fellow that
-drives his horses; he sets down to his breakfast at six o’clock—with his
-hair every way for Sunday—an’ he eats with his knife an’ drinks out of
-his saucer. An’ when all his children thinks he’s done, he says: ’Pass
-me them cucumber pickles—an’ another hunk o’ lemon pie,’—so you see
-things is divided up pretty even after all. I believe luck comes to
-lots o’ men, of course—but _one_ of its hands is most gen’rally always
-as empty as a last year’s nest—you can’t have everything," concluded
-David, looking first at the men’s plates and then down at the crackers
-and prunes.
-
-"But one handful’s a heap," suggested Mr. Glady, lifting the keel of a
-ruined herring to his lips.
-
-"’Tain’t as much as you think for," retorted the host. "It don’t touch
-the sore spot at all. If a fellow’s got a good deal of th’ almighty
-needful, as they call it, it may make his surroundin’s a little more—a
-little more ornamentorious," he declared, wrestling with the word. "But
-there ain’t nothin’ more to it than that. Take me, if you like; I’ve
-got more than lots o’ fellows—or used to have, anyway. But the
-difference is mostly ornament; a few more things like that there
-statute—or is it a statue?—I can’t never tell them two apart; that there
-statute of the hamstrung lady you run up agin in the sittin’-room. But I
-never eat only one herrin’ at a time, an’ I jest sleep on one pillow at
-a time—an’ if I have the colic I jest cuss an’ howl the same as some
-weary Willie that a woman gives one of her own pies to, an’ he eats all
-the undercrust. I’m afeard you don’t like our humble fare," he
-digressed in a rather plaintive voice; "won’t you have some more
-crackers an’ prunes between you—they’ll never get past the kitchen,
-anyhow."
-
-The horny-handed guests, declining the oft-pressed hospitality, began
-about this time to look a little uneasily at each other; visions of
-their original errand were troubling them some. Finally Mr. Hunter
-nodded very decidedly to his colleague, whereat Mr. Glady again produced
-his trusty handkerchief, and, after he had tooted his disquietude into
-its sympathetic bosom, cleared his throat with a sound that suggested
-the dredging of a harbour, and began:
-
-"Me and Mr. Hunter’s got a commission, Mr. Borland. We’re appointed
-to—to confer with you about, about the interests of the men, so to
-speak; about a raise—that is, about a more fairer distribution of the
-product of our united industry, as it were," he went on, serenely
-quoting without acknowledgment from the flowing stanzas of a gifted
-agitator whose mission had been completed but a week before.
-
-"I’m terrible glad you brought that up," David responded
-enthusiastically. "I hated to mention it myself; but I’ve been
-wonderin’ lately about a little scheme. D’ye think the men would be
-willin’ to kind of enter into a bargain for gettin’ a certain per cent.
-of the profits an’——"
-
-"I’d stake my life they would," Mr. Hunter broke in fervidly. "Of
-course, we haven’t no authority on that point, but I’m sure they’d be
-willin’—a more agreeable lot of men you never seen, Mr. Borland. Don’t
-you think so, Tom?" he appealed to the approving Glady. The latter was
-framing an ardent endorsement—but David went on:
-
-"An’ of course I’d expect them to enjoy the losses along with us
-too—then we’d all have the same kind o’ feelin’s all the time, like what
-becometh brethren. An’ we’re havin’ a lot o’ the last kind these days.
-What do you think, Mr. Glady?"
-
-Mr. Glady was sadly at a loss; with a kind of muscular spasm he seized
-his cup and held it out towards David; "I think I’ll take another cup o’
-tea," he said vacantly.
-
-"Certainly—an’ I want you an’ Mr. Hunter to talk that little scheme over
-with the men. An’ you must come back an’ tell me what they think—come
-an’ have supper with me again, an’ I’ll try an’ have somethin’ extra,
-so’s we can eat an’ drink an’ be merry."
-
-Nobody had suggested departure; but already the three men were moving
-out into the hall. "How’s all the men keepin’, Mr. Hunter?—the men in
-our shops, I mean," the genial host enquired.
-
-"All pretty good, sir—all except Jim Shiel, an’ he’s pretty sick. He’s
-been drawin’ benefits for a month now."
-
-"Oh, that’s too bad; but I’m glad you told me. I’ll look around an’ see
-him soon—your folks all well, Mr. Glady?"
-
-"Yes, thank you. But don’t call me Mr. Glady," said the friendly
-delegate; "I’d feel better if you’d just call me plain Tom."
-
-"An’ my name’s Henry," chimed Mr. Hunter, "just plain Henry."
-
-"Them’s two elegant names," agreed Mr. Borland, "an’ I think myself
-they’re best among friends. Speakin’ about first names reminds me of an
-old soldier my grandfather used to know in Massachusetts. He fought for
-Washington, an’ he had great yarns to tell. One was that one mornin’ he
-assassinated thirty-seven British fellows before breakfast; an’
-Washington, he came out an’ smiled round on the corpses. Of course, he
-slung old Hollister a word o’ praise. ’I done it for you, General,’ says
-old Hollister. ’Don’t,’ says Washington, ’don’t call me General—call me
-George,’" and David led the chorus with great zest.
-
-"Well, we’ll be biddin’ you good-evenin’," said Mr. Glady, extending his
-hand.
-
-"Jest wait a minute; I sent word to Thomas to hitch up the
-chestnuts—he’ll drive you down. Here he is now," as the luxurious
-carriage rolled to the door. Thomas controlled himself with difficulty
-as he watched Mr. Borland handing his petrified guests into the handsome
-equipage. Panic takes different forms; Mr. Glady wrapped the lap-robe
-carefully about his neck, while Mr. Hunter shook hands solemnly with the
-coachman.
-
-"I don’t use this rig a terrible lot myself," he heard David saying;
-"it’s a better fit for the missus. If you feel like drivin’ round a bit
-to get the air, Thomas’ll take good care o’ you. Good-night, Henry;
-good-night, Tom," he sung out as the horses’ hoofs rattled down the
-avenue.
-
-Then David went slowly back into the house. He wandered, smiling
-reminiscently, into the sitting-room. Pausing before the Venus de Milo,
-he chucked the classic chin.
-
-"Well, old lady," he said gravely, "there’s more ways of chokin’ a dog
-besides chokin’ him with butter."
-
-
-
-
- *XVII*
-
- _*FRIENDSHIP’S MINISTRY*_
-
-
-If any man would learn the glory and beauty of a mighty tree we would
-bid him range the untroubled forest where God’s masterpieces stand in
-rich profusion. But we are wrong. Not there will he learn how precious
-and how beautiful are the stately oak and the spreading beech and the
-whispering pine. But let him dwell a summer season through upon some
-treeless plain or rolling prairie, and there will be formed within him a
-just and discriminating sense of the healing ministry committed to these
-mediators between earth and sky.
-
-And men learn friendship best where friends are not. Not when surrounded
-by strong and loving hearts, but when alone with thousands of
-indifferent lives, do we learn how truly rich is he who has a friend.
-To find then one who really cares is to confront in sudden joy a
-familiar face amid the waste of wilderness.
-
-Alone among indifferent thousands as he alighted from the train, Harvey
-Simmons turned his steps, the streets somewhat more familiar than
-before, towards the house where dwelt the only man he knew in all the
-crowded city. A few enquiries and a half hour’s vigorous walking
-brought him within sight of the doctor’s house; he was so intent on
-covering the remaining distance that two approaching figures had almost
-passed him by when he heard a voice that had something familiar about
-it.
-
-"I’ll do the best I can, Wallis," the voice was saying, "but I guess
-we’ll have to put the child under chloroform."
-
-Harvey turned a quick glance on the speaker. It was none other than the
-doctor himself.
-
-"Dr. Horton—is that you, Dr. Horton?" the youth asked timidly.
-
-The older of the two men turned suddenly on his heel, the keen gray eyes
-scrutinizing the figure before him. It was but a moment till the same
-kindly smile that Harvey remembered so well broke over his face. Both
-hands were on the young man’s shoulder in an instant.
-
-"You don’t mean to say—I know you, mind—but you don’t mean to say you’re
-that young fellow from, from Glenallen—that brought his mother to me
-about her eyes?"
-
-By this time Harvey had possession of one of the hands. "I’m the very
-same," he said, his face beaming with the joy of being recognized.
-
-"How is she?" the doctor asked like a flash.
-
-The light faded a little from Harvey’s face. "She can’t see at all now,
-sir," he answered soberly. "She’s quite blind—only she can tell when
-it’s morning."
-
-"Thank the Lord for that," said the other fervently; "that’s always a
-gleam of hope." Then followed a brief exchange of questions and
-answers.
-
-"How does your mother take it?" the doctor asked finally.
-
-"Oh, she’s lovely—she’s just as sweet and patient as she can be; doesn’t
-think of herself at all."
-
-"Your mother must be a regular brick."
-
-"She’s a great Christian," quoth her son. "I think that’s what keeps
-her up."
-
-"Shouldn’t wonder—it’s the best kind of stimulant I know of," the doctor
-answered in a droll sort of way, turning and smiling at his companion.
-"Oh, excuse me, Wallis—what’s this the name is?" he asked Harvey; "I’ve
-just forgotten it."
-
-"Simmons, Harvey Simmons," the other answered.
-
-"Of course; it’s quite familiar now that I hear it. This is Dr.
-Wallis—and this is Mr. Simmons," he said to the other. "Dr. Wallis was
-just taking me to see a patient. Did you want to see me about anything
-in particular, Harvey?—you won’t mind my calling you that, will you?"
-
-It only needed a glance at the pleased face to see how welcome was the
-familiarity.
-
-"Well, really, I did," Harvey responded frankly. Wherewith, briefly and
-simply, he told his friend the purpose which had brought him to the
-city, outlining the academic course he intended to pursue, earnest
-resolve evident in every word. "And I wanted to get your advice about a
-boarding-house," he concluded; "you see, I thought you might know some
-nice quiet place that wouldn’t—that wouldn’t be too dear," he said,
-flushing a little. "I’m quite a stranger in the city—but I don’t want
-to go to a regular boarding-house if I can help it."
-
-"Well, no," the doctor began, knitting his brows. "And I really ought to
-be able to help you out on that. But I tell you—you come along with us;
-then we can talk as we go along. Besides, I’m sure Dr. Wallis here will
-be able to advise you much better than I could—he knows every old woman
-in the city."
-
-His confrère smiled. "It’s mostly the submerged tenth I know," he
-answered; "I’m afraid there aren’t many of my patients you’d care to
-board with. Want a place near the college, I suppose?"
-
-"That’s not so essential," said Harvey; "I wouldn’t mind a walk of a
-mile or so at all."
-
-"Good idea," said the other; "most students are pretty cheerful
-feeders—want a room to yourself?"
-
-"I’d prefer it—if it wouldn’t add too much to the expense. I’ve always
-got to consider that, you know," returned Harvey, smiling bravely
-towards his new-found friend.
-
-"Right again," affirmed the doctor. "Single stalls are the thing;
-everybody sleeps better without assistance. Sooner have a few children
-around? Some fellows study better with kids in the house, and others
-again go wild if they hear one howl."
-
-"I believe I’d get along just as well without them," said Harvey,
-laughing; "you see, I’ll need to study very hard—and I don’t believe
-they help one much."
-
-"It’s like studying in a monkeys’ cage," asserted Dr. Wallis vigorously;
-"what I hate about little gaffers in a boarding-house is the way they
-always want to look at your watch," he enlarged solemnly, "and five
-times out of six they let it fall. It’s fun for them, as the old fable
-says, but it’s death to the frogs. And of course you want to get into a
-place where they have good cooking; it’s pretty hard to do the higher
-mathematics on hash and onions—and lots o’ students have lost their
-degrees through bad butter. I’ve known men whose whole professional
-life was tainted by the butter they got at college."
-
-"But I’m not over particular about what I eat," began Harvey; "if the
-place is warm, and if they keep it——"
-
-"That’s all right enough," broke in the other, "but it makes a
-difference just the same. You’ve got the same kind of internal
-mechanism as other fellows, and you’ve got to reckon with it. Well,
-we’ll see what we can do. I’ve got a place or two in mind now. I’ll
-tell you about them later—we’re almost at my patient’s house. I say,
-you may as well come in—it’ll be a little glimpse of life for you; and
-we can see more about this matter after we come out."
-
-Another hundred yards brought them to their destination, a rather
-squalid looking cottage on a rather squalid looking street. Dr. Wallis
-knocked at the door, pushing it open and entering without tarrying for
-response. As Harvey followed with the older doctor a child’s wailing
-fell upon his ears, emerging from the only other room the little house
-contained.
-
-"Just wait here," said Dr. Wallis to the other two; "the child’s in
-there—I’ll be back in a minute."
-
-He disappeared, Harvey and his friend seating themselves on a rude bench
-near the door. Both looked around for a minute at the pitiful bareness
-of the room; and the eyes of both settled down upon a tawdry doll that
-lay, forsaken and disconsolate, on the floor. Tawdry enough it was, and
-duly fractured in the head; but it redeemed the wretched room with the
-flavour of humanity, and the solitary sunbeam that had braved the grimy
-window played about the battered brow, and the vision of some child’s
-wan face rose above the hapless bundle.
-
-"He’s a jewel," Dr. Horton said in a half whisper, "a jewel of the first
-water."
-
-"Who?" asked Harvey.
-
-For answer, the doctor jerked his head backward towards the adjoining
-room. "He just lives among poor people like these—they’re all idolaters
-of his. He gives away every cent he makes; when he does get a rich
-patient he makes them shell out for the poor ones. I know one of my
-patients called him in once for an emergency—sprained his big toe
-getting out of the bath-tub—and Wallis charged him fifty dollars for
-rubbing it. Then he went out and gave the money all away; the patient
-forgot all about his toe after Wallis got through with him, I can tell
-you—the pain went higher up. But I was kind of glad—he was the head of
-a big plumbing firm, and I always thought Providence used Wallis as the
-humble instrument to chasten him."
-
-"Just come this way please, Dr. Horton," said a voice from the door.
-
-Sitting alone, Harvey listened to the muffled sounds within. The crying
-subsided as the odour of chloroform arose; and the voice of weeping was
-now the mother’s, not the child’s. Finally both grew still and a long
-silence followed. So long did it seem that Harvey had moved towards the
-door, intending to walk about till the operation should be over, when
-suddenly both men emerged from the tiny apartment.
-
-"It’s all over," said Dr. Horton—"and I think it’s been successful; I
-believe the child will see as well as ever she did."
-
-Harvey looked as relieved as though he had known the parties all his
-life.
-
-"I say, Horton," broke in the other doctor, "what’ll you charge for
-this? Better tell me, and I can tell her," nodding towards the room
-where the mother was still bended over the beshadowed child.
-
-"Oh, that’s not worrying me," said the specialist, carefully replacing
-an instrument in his case as he Spoke. "Nobody looks for money from a
-neighbourhood like this," indicating the unpromising surroundings by a
-glance around. "I’ll get my reward in heaven."
-
-"A little on account wouldn’t do any harm," returned the cheery Wallis.
-"It’s out of the question to ask a man of your station to pike away down
-here for nothing; I’m going to try anyhow—just wait here till I come
-back," wherewith he turned towards the little room, closing the door
-carefully behind him as he entered.
-
-He had hardly got inside before, to Harvey’s amazement, Dr. Horton
-dropped his surgical case and tiptoed swiftly to the door, stooping down
-to gaze through a keyhole that long years and frequent operations had
-left more than usually spacious. Watching intently, Harvey could see the
-face of his friend distorted by an expression partly of mirth and partly
-of indignation. For Dr. Horton could descry the woman still bending
-over the little bed, evidently oblivious to the fact that the doctor had
-returned; and Dr. Wallis himself was conducting a hurried search through
-his pockets upper and nether, a grimace of satisfaction indicating that
-he had found at last the material he was in quest of.
-
-The spying specialist had barely time to spring back to where Harvey was
-standing, when the other reappeared, smiling and jubilant.
-
-"You never can tell, Horton," he began, holding out a bill; "you can
-never tell—there’s nothing like trying. Here’s a five I collected for
-you, and it was given gladly enough. It’s not very much but——"
-
-"You go to the devil," broke in the specialist, trying to look angry;
-"you think you’re infernal smart, don’t you?—but you haven’t got all the
-brains in the world."
-
-"You surprise me, Dr. Horton," the other began vigorously, commanding a
-splendid appearance of injured amazement. "You don’t mean to insinuate
-that I put part of the fee in my pocket, do you?" he demanded, striking
-a martial attitude, and inwardly very proud of the way he had changed
-the scent.
-
-"Put that rag back in your left-hand vest pocket where you got it,"
-growled the senior physician as he picked up his hat. "You may work
-your smart-Alec tricks with the poor natives round here—but you can’t
-come it on me. Take Simmons along and find him some place to lay his
-head," he added, opening the door and leading the way outward to the
-street.
-
-The three walked together for perhaps four or five squares, the two
-physicians still engaged in the genial hostilities that Dr. Wallis’s
-financial genius had provoked. Suddenly the latter came to a standstill
-at the junction of two streets, his eyes roving along a richly shaded
-avenue to his left.
-
-"I guess you’d better go along home, Horton," he said—"you’ll want to
-post your ledger anyhow, after a profitable day like this. And I think
-I’ll just take your friend here and go on the still hunt for a little.
-Don’t look much like a boarding-house street, does it?" he added, as he
-marked the look of surprise on his contemporary’s face. "But you never
-can tell—anyhow, I’ve got a place along here in my mind’s eye, and we
-may just as well find out now as any other time."
-
-"Wish you luck," the older man flung after them as he went his way; "if
-you get lodgings at any of those houses you’ll have to sleep with the
-butler."
-
-"It does look a little unlikely, I’ll admit," Dr. Wallis said to Harvey
-as they started down the avenue; "but the whole case is quite unusual.
-This is a woman of over fifty I’m going to see—nobody knows exactly—and
-she’s almost the only rich patient I’ve got. She lives a strange, half
-hermit kind of life—goes out almost none—and mighty few people ever get
-in. Except her clergyman, of course—she insists on seeing her minister
-constantly; I think he’s just a curate, and I’ve always had the feeling
-that he’d consider death great gain—if it came to her. But for a while
-back she’s been talking to me as if she wouldn’t mind some one in the
-house, if they were congenial. It seems one or two attempts have been
-made to break in at nights—and the butler sleeps like a graven image.
-Just the other day I suggested she might take in a nurse, a young lady I
-know, who wants to get a quiet home—but I nearly had to run for shelter;
-she gave her whole sex the finest decorating I’ve heard for years. No
-women for her, thank you."
-
-"Is she a little odd?" Harvey ventured to enquire.
-
-The doctor looked him in the eyes and laughed. "Well, rather! Odd, I
-should say she is. But she’s just as genuine as she can be. And if you
-get in there you’ll be as comfortable as you’d be in Windsor
-Castle—quiet and secluded as a monastery, the very place for a student.
-She’s been gathering beautiful things for years, all sorts of curios and
-rarities—and she’s passionately fond of animals, keeps a regular
-menagerie. And she’s great on keeping well; pretends to despise all
-doctors, and has a few formulas for every occasion. Deep breathing is
-her specialty—she’s a regular fiend on deep breathing. But you’ll see
-for yourself," the doctor concluded, as they turned in at an open gate
-and began to mount the stone steps that led to a rather imposing-looking
-door.
-
-Spacious and inviting, if somewhat neglected looking, were the
-old-fashioned grounds about the old-fashioned house. Great spreading
-trees stood here and there, perhaps thirty or forty in all, some in the
-sombre dishabille of autumn, some in unchanging robes of green. And two
-summer-houses, one smaller than the other, nestling in opposite corners,
-stood deserted and lonely amid the new-fallen carpet of dying leaves. A
-solitary flower-bed, evidently ill at ease amid the unfettered life
-about it, waved its few remaining banners, the stamp of death upon them,
-pensively in the evening breeze. There was an ancient fountain, too,
-but its lips were parched and dry, and the boyish form that stood in
-athletic pose above it looked weary of the long and fruitless vigil. Two
-brazen dogs stood near the gate, sullen and uncaring now, the chill wind
-awakening memories of many a winter’s storm, and foretelling, too,
-another winter waiting at the door.
-
-Dr. Wallis gave the brazen door-knob an uncommonly vigorous tug. "She
-likes you to ring as if you meant it," he explained to Harvey, the
-distant product of his violence pealing and repealing through the house.
-
-"We’ll likely have to wait a little while," the doctor remarked; "she
-never lets a servant come to the door till she peeks through that upper
-left-hand window herself. Don’t look," he added hurriedly; "she
-mightn’t let us in if she catches any one looking."
-
-After a few minutes’ further waiting, the harsh grating of the heavy
-bolt and the violent turning of the reluctant handle were followed by
-the apparition of a head of iron gray, a pair of absolutely emotionless
-eyes fixed upon the visitors in turn. Dr. Wallis nodded, the man barely
-returning his salutation as he led the way into a large and solemnly
-furnished apartment on the left. Harvey’s principal impression was of
-the height of the ceiling and the multitude of mirrors that confronted
-him on every hand; there seemed to be a goodly assemblage in the room,
-so often were its two solitary inmates reproduced.
-
-Harvey and the doctor were still engaged in a mental inventory of the
-room, its paintings, bronzes, and what not, all claiming their
-attention, when the solemn head of iron gray reappeared at the door.
-
-"Miss Farringall says she’ll see you in her room," said the sphinx, his
-lips closing with an audible smack; whereupon the scanty procession was
-reformed, following the servant as he led the way up a winding flight of
-stairs. The man knocked at the door of a small sitting-room,
-precipitately retiring as soon as he had pushed it partly open.
-
-
-
-
- *XVIII*
-
- _*VOICES OF THE PAST*_
-
-
-Harvey followed his companion inside, peering eagerly for what awaited
-them. The mistress of the house fitted her surroundings well. She was
-reclining in an ample chair, a half-emptied cup of tea on a little table
-beside her. She was evidently much above medium height, spare and thin,
-a rusty dressing-gown folded loosely about her. Her hair was quite
-gray, and quite at liberty, not at all ill-becoming to the large, strong
-features, and the well-formed head. The brow was broad and high,
-wrinkled slightly, and furrowed deeply down the centre; high
-cheek-bones, a rather mobile mouth, a complexion still unfaded, joined
-with the bright penetrating eyes to make a decidedly interesting
-countenance. The face looked capable of tenderness, yet as if
-tenderness had cost her dear. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses sat
-shimmering on her brow; one swift shuffle of the face reduced them to
-their proper sphere.
-
-"Barlow didn’t tell me there were two," she said, without looking at the
-doctor. She was looking beyond him at the stranger’s face. "He’s got
-both arms anyhow, thank heaven," she said, looking at Harvey. "He
-nearly always brings people with one arm, that want help," she explained
-to the newcomer, motioning towards a chair.
-
-"This is Mr. Simmons, Miss Farringall," the doctor began blandly. "I
-took the liberty——"
-
-"I know him," she interrupted gently, still surveying Harvey. "Didn’t
-you hear me talking to him? And I know all about the liberty too—I do
-wish Barlow would count people before he shows them up."
-
-"How do you feel to-day, Miss Farringall?" enquired the physician.
-
-"Better," replied his patient. "I gave Barlow that medicine you sent
-me—I always feel better after Barlow takes it. Is your friend going to
-be a doctor?" she went on in the same breath, inclining her head towards
-Harvey.
-
-"Oh, no, he’s going to the university—he’s a student," the doctor
-informed her.
-
-"That’s quite different—that’ll save somebody’s life. What did you
-bring him for?" she demanded frankly, turning the keen eyes for the
-first time from Harvey’s face and fastening them on the doctor’s.
-
-"Well, he was with me; he’s a friend of Dr. Horton’s and mine—and I
-thought I’d just bring him in. This is his first day. Besides," and the
-wily tactician paused a moment, "I wanted to ask your advice."
-
-"I’ll charge you doctor’s rates," said the spinster, restoring her
-spectacles to their former altitude.
-
-"That’s cheap enough for anything," retorted the other. "And anyhow,
-I’ll take the usual time to pay it. But seriously, Miss Farringall, I
-want your counsel on a matter we’re both interested in. You see, I’ve
-promised to help Mr. Simmons get a boarding-house if I can, and I
-thought you might know of some suitable place—you’ve lived so long in
-the city," he explained with an amiable smile.
-
-"That’s remarkably true," interrupted the lady as she rattled the spoon
-in the cup beside her—"and I’ve knocked about so much; lived in the
-streets, haven’t I?—been a kind of a city missionary, I suppose. What
-kind of a place does your friend want?" she enquired with mock
-seriousness.
-
-"Oh, any nice quiet place," answered the intrepid doctor, "with plain
-honest people that’ll make him comfortable. He wants quiet—and
-refinement—more than anything else, I should say."
-
-"If I had my things on, I’d just go out now and enquire around among the
-neighbours," the woman avowed gravely, trying to control two very
-rebellious corners about her mouth. "Where do you come from, sir?" she
-asked abruptly, turning on the silent Harvey.
-
-"From the country, Miss Farringall—from a place called Glenallen."
-
-"Parents living?"
-
-"My mother’s living, ma’am; she lives alone—except, I have a sister."
-
-"What’s her name?"
-
-"Jessie."
-
-"Sensible name. Are you a churchman?"
-
-"Yes, Miss Farringall—at least I hope so."
-
-"High?"
-
-"No," answered Harvey, wondering slightly. "No, just Presbyterian."
-
-"Oh!" said Miss Farringall, "I see. But you can repeat the creed?"
-
-"Oh, yes, we learned that at school."
-
-"And if you were living in a—in a church family, you’d be willing to
-come in to prayers when the rector came? You’d be quite willing, I
-suppose?"
-
-"I’d love to," said Harvey fervently.
-
-"And do you love animals?"
-
-"A good many," Harvey answered cautiously.
-
-"Birds?"
-
-"I love birds," said Harvey.
-
-"Dogs?"
-
-"Better still," replied the interrogated.
-
-"Cats?"
-
-"Sometimes. Of course, Miss Farringall, I won’t have a great deal of
-time to devote to pets. I’ll have to study pretty hard; it’s largely
-through the kindness of a couple of friends that I have the chance to——"
-
-But his interrogator was already ringing a hand-bell with great vigour.
-
-"Barlow," she said, as the butler reappeared, "bring Grey here."
-
-"Yes, mum," murmured the mobile servant as he disappeared, returning a
-minute later with a large specimen of the feline tribe at his heels.
-The animal was mewing loudly as it came. Barlow turned and departed as
-his four-footed companion bolted in at the open door.
-
-Miss Farringall made a slight outward motion with her hands and the cat
-promptly sprang into her lap. Then he turned to survey the company,
-wasting only the briefest glance on the doctor’s familiar face, but
-subjecting Harvey to the scrutiny that his strangerhood seemed to render
-necessary.
-
-"You may go, Grey," the woman said in an almost inaudible voice,
-whereupon the cat slowly descended, standing still a moment to continue
-its examination of the stranger. Gradually it drew closer, rubbing its
-sides at length against Harvey’s ankles, still scrutinizing the face
-above. Harvey smiled, whereat the creature looked more intently than
-before.
-
-"Don’t speak," whispered Miss Farringall, "I believe he’s going to——"
-the prediction lost in a little gasp of excitement as the feline
-suddenly bounded into Harvey’s lap, thence to his shoulder, its tail
-aloft like a banner, while a gentle purring issued forth as it began an
-affectionate circuit of Harvey’s head.
-
-Miss Farringall’s face was radiant, her spectacles now at high mast as a
-result of much facial contortion. "You can stay here if you like, Mr.
-Simmons, till—till I find a place for you," she said, her eyes still
-fixed in admiration on the cat. Dr. Wallis said nothing, inwardly
-blessing the whole feline race.
-
-"You’re very kind, ma’am," Harvey began, his face crimson with an
-excitement he could hardly explain. "And I’ll be good to Grey," he
-added desperately, not knowing what else to say.
-
-"You mustn’t feed him, mind," the other broke out intensely—"not a
-mouthful of anything. And no thanks, if you please; I never knew Grey
-to make a mistake. Besides, there’s something about you that reminds me
-of—of somebody else," she concluded, her tone softened into unwonted
-gentleness.
-
-"Was he a relative, Miss Farringall?" the doctor ventured, anxious that
-the reference should be appropriately received.
-
-"Who said he was a he at all?" retorted his friend, turning suddenly
-upon him as she groped aloft for the departed spectacles.
-
-"You can have the room over the dining-room," she went on, addressing
-Harvey again; "it opens on the lawn, and you must leave your window open
-summer and winter—wherever you maybe in winter," she corrected; "and
-breathe deep—breathe deep of the fresh air of heaven. Are you a deep
-breather, Mr. Simmons?" she enquired anxiously.
-
-"I’ve never thought much about it," said Harvey frankly; "but I’ll try
-and learn, Miss Farringall," quenching a smile as he looked up at the
-earnest face.
-
-"It’s life," she assured him earnestly, "pure life."
-
-"Miss Farringall’s right," the doctor added gravely. "There’s nothing
-more connected with life than breathing. I’ve often noticed that in my
-practice."
-
-But the irreverent reflection was wasted on the zealous heart of Miss
-Farringall. "Where are you going to stay to-night?" she asked; "it’ll
-soon be dark."
-
-Harvey hesitated. "I thought I’d just take him home with me," the
-doctor volunteered; "then he could come here to-morrow."
-
-"Where’s your trunk?" pursued the hostess.
-
-"It’s at the station," said Harvey; "I’ve got the check."
-
-"Barlow’ll attend to having it sent up; there’s really no reason for him
-going away from here to-night. I’m willing—you and Grey are credentials
-enough for me," she added, her face relaxing into a more pronounced
-smile than Harvey had seen there before.
-
-Dr. Wallis was already moving towards the door. The grave Barlow had it
-open in advance. "You’ll let us know in good time when you get another
-place for my friend, Miss Farringall—that is, when he has to leave."
-
-"Oh, yes, I’ll attend to that," she assured him. "Don’t let Grey get
-out, Barlow—it’s too cold for him. Keep your mouth closed,
-Barlow—breathe through your nose," for the sudden shock of the
-intelligence that the doctor’s words implied, the idea slowly filtering
-in upon him that a stranger was to pass the night beneath that sacred
-roof, had thrown poor Barlow’s mouth as wide open as his ears.
-
-"Miss Farringall’ll let you know when you’ve got to leave, Mr. Simmons,"
-said Dr. Wallis as he glanced furtively at Harvey, winking violently the
-while. "You’ll feel more comfortable, I’m sure," he resumed, his
-features quite composed again as he turned towards the mistress of the
-house, "to have a man around at nights—there have been two cases of
-house-breaking on this street lately."
-
-"I know that," she answered with bated breath; "I’m often afraid at
-nights. I thought some one was breaking in last night; I was so sure of
-it that I turned on the light and began reading the prayer for those in
-peril on the sea—but it was just Barlow snoring. You snore like Niagara
-Falls, don’t you, Barlow?"
-
-"Yes, mum," replied the accomplished, without moving a muscle.
-
-With a last cheery word to Harvey, and promising to return soon, Dr.
-Wallis withdrew, leaving the new-found relation to work itself out as
-best it could. Harvey waited a few minutes amid the mirrors in the
-parlour while his room was being prepared for its new occupant; to which
-he was promptly conducted by Miss Farringall herself, Barlow having
-retired for repairs to a very startled system.
-
-"I should think your trunk would be here a little after supper," she
-said as she showed him in, "and I’d advise you to change your flannels
-when it comes. Excuse my advice on such matters," she added, a delicate
-little flush stealing to her cheek, "but I’m old enough to be your
-mother—and besides, it’s getting quite cool outside. I think there’s
-nothing so wholesome as warm flannels—warm flannels and deep breathing.
-Sometimes I think people wouldn’t ever die if they’d only change their
-flannels when the weather changes—and keep on breathing deep," she
-concluded, drawing a profound breath the while, her lips locked like a
-vice. "Supper’ll be ready in half an hour."
-
-Then she hurried back to her little sitting-room, the kindly bosom
-rising and falling as she faithfully pursued the wondrous treatment.
-Gaining the room, she immediately rang the bell, and a moment later the
-partially recovered butler stood before her. He, too, had had a
-treatment; for which cause he breathed as lightly as the demands of
-nature would permit.
-
-"Hand me that box from my secretary, Barlow—that ebony box."
-
-He obeyed; and Miss Farringall held it a moment in her hands, then
-adjusted a tiny key and turned the lock. A queer little tremor rippled
-over her lips as the thin fingers groped a moment at the very bottom of
-the box. Those same fingers showed just the least unsteadiness as they
-released the dim gold clasp that bound a jet-black frame, which,
-opening, disclosed the portrait of a man about twenty-two or
-twenty-three years of age. She held it musingly in front of her a
-moment. Then she held it out towards Barlow, who promptly moved forward
-like some statue out-marching from its niche, his arms rigid by his
-side.
-
-"You’ve never seen that before, Barlow?"
-
-"No, mum."
-
-"Who do you think it’s like, Barlow?"
-
-"I couldn’t say, mum."
-
-"Don’t you think it resembles that visitor of ours—that young man Dr.
-Wallis brought this evening?"
-
-"Yes, mum," Barlow assented, almost before she had finished her
-question.
-
-"Do you think it very much like him, Barlow?"
-
-"It’s his livin’ image, mum," said the talking statue.
-
-"You can go, Barlow."
-
-"Yes, mum," said Barlow, already gone.
-
-The woman sat alone in the fading light, the picture still before her.
-Suddenly she started, started as violently, almost, as if the dead face
-before her had broken into speech. Again the bell awoke the echoes of
-the lonely house, and again the servant stalked like a shadow to the
-door.
-
-"Barlow, what did Dr. Wallis say was that young man’s name?"
-
-"I couldn’t say, mum," answered Barlow, with the air of one who has been
-charged with murder. Even in the shadow he noticed the whiteness of the
-lips that questioned him.
-
-"Well, find it out then," she exclaimed, her voice rising as she half
-rose in her chair—"find it out, I say. What do you suppose you’re here
-for, if it’s not to know who’s in the house?"
-
-"Yes, mum," Barlow responded, his tone now the tone of the convicted.
-
-"Never mind that—go and find out the name. Tell him we’ll need to know
-when the postman brings the letters—tell him anything—go now," as the
-menial vanished in the direction of Harvey’s room.
-
-It was but a moment till he was back. "It’s Simmons, mum—he says it’s
-Simmons."
-
-Miss Farringall was now erect. "What was his father’s name?—his mother
-lives alone, he told me. Ask him what was his father’s name—this minute,
-hear."
-
-Barlow was back in even less time than before. "Simmons," he said
-solemnly; "it seems his father’s name was Simmons too, mum."
-
-His mistress advanced a step or two towards him; the faithful Barlow
-bowed his head like one ready to be offered. "Go back," she said in a
-low tense tone, "go back and ask him what his father’s first name was.
-I want to know. And if you blunder this time, sir, you’ll walk out of
-my house, mind."
-
-"Yes, mum," agreed the man, lifting his eyes devotedly as he spoke, and
-vanishing into the outer gloom.
-
-"Edward, mum," he informed her in a moment, "Edward Simmons—and he says
-what might you want to know for, mum."
-
-A wave of indescribable emotion swept over the woman’s face. She walked
-slowly to the window, gazing blindly out at the encroaching shadows of
-the autumn night. She saw the lurid sky beyond the city’s utmost
-fringe, still crimson with the gilding of a departed sun, touched with
-the colour that was fading fast; even as she looked, the once radiant
-clouds were turning cold and gray, the ashen hue of age displacing the
-splendour of their transient joy. And the withered leaves,
-contemptuously tossed by the rising wind, moaned about the knees of many
-a heartless tree that had once flaunted them so proudly, whispering the
-story of their beauty to both earth and sky. But the silent gazer saw
-little of the autumn scene. For the grave and tender eyes were fixed on
-something far beyond it, far behind, nestling in the bosom of departed
-years; and what they saw was blighted with no decay of autumn, but stood
-fresh and beautiful in the light of summer. Green fields they saw, and
-tender bud and opening blossom everywhere, the very clouds beautiful in
-noble gloom because of the unconquerable sun. And that sun was Love—and
-the face she saw amid it all was the face of Edward Simmons.
-
-Her eyes suddenly seemed to withdraw themselves from the scene without,
-turning wistfully upon the picture she still held in her hand. Only a
-moment did they linger there before they were turned again upon the
-autumn world without. And lo! The blackness of it all, its loneliness,
-all the pathos of the withered summer, seemed now to rise up before the
-woman’s creative gaze; the sky, with its mystic tragedy as the glow
-surrendered to the gloom, the unbannered trees, the hurrying, homeless
-leaves, the dirge of the mournful wind—all these were deepened and
-darkened by that other vision of summer gladness that now was past and
-gone. For there is no mmistrant to sorrow like the sweet face of some
-dead happiness; it is June that gives November all its bitterness.
-
-Long musing, she turned at last from the window, again summoning the
-faithful servant.
-
-"Barlow," she said, the tone quite low, "go to the vault—look in that
-lower left-hand drawer and bring me a parcel of papers there. They’re
-only newspapers," she added, "all tied together; bring them here."
-
-A few minutes later Barlow handed her the parcel. "Shall I light the
-gas, mum?" he asked, turning at the door.
-
-"No, thank you; I don’t want it—but you can kindle the fire."
-
-Then she sat, the papers and the photograph in her lap, till the
-crackling flame was bright. And again the wistful eyes pored over the
-past as though it were an open book. Far clearer now she saw it than
-before. For every leaping tongue of flame babbled of other days while
-the hearth-fire plied its ancient subtle industry, calling up
-long-vanished faces as it ever does, rebuilding the ruined past, echoing
-once again the long silent tones of love—and the panorama of the bygone
-years passed in a lane of light between the burning eyes and the mystic
-fire, both knowing, both caring, both sorrowing.
-
-It was almost dark when the spare and slender form rose from the chair,
-moving to the secretary in the corner of the room. From the lowest
-compartment of it she lifted, very gently, a little bundle of letters.
-Then she picked up the photograph again, extracting an old newspaper
-from the parcel before her; a quick glance at its date confirmed what
-she already knew. Then, with the old daguerreotype and the old letters
-and the old faded newspaper in her hand, she sank upon a hassock that
-lay beside the fire—the fire too was old, so old and dear—and she smiled
-to herself as she settled down in the old girlish way, the lonely blaze
-greeting her as it flung its glow again upon the flushed and quivering
-face, as dear to it as in the gladder days of yore. One by one she
-turned them over—the picture and the letters and the paper—the whole
-story of her life was there. The shadows gathered deeper and darker as
-she sat and fondled these precious things, the only real treasure of all
-her treasure-laden house—but the fire burned on as brightly as in other
-days, as brightly as if it had never faltered through the years.
-
-
-It was a new sensation that crept about Harvey Simmons’ heart that
-night, such a sensation as can come only to the youth who is denied for
-the first time the vision of his mother’s face. It seemed strange to
-have said good-night to nobody in the old familiar way, to hear no
-reassuring sound of voices indistinctly chatting in the distance, as
-Jessie’s and his mother’s always could be heard, and to give or hear no
-final word of mirth or message as the lamp went out and the comfortable
-couch received him.
-
-The room appointed to him was replete with all that might minister to
-comfort, even rich and elegant in its appointments. How often Harvey
-had wished his own humble home had boasted such a room, not for himself
-but for another; yet, now that he had come into possession of all he had
-so often envied, how paltry and insignificant it seemed, how far beneath
-what he had imagined—and how gladly he would have exchanged it all for
-his little room at home, if he might have but again been near the dear
-ones from whom he had never been parted a single night in all the course
-of his uneventful life.
-
-His eyes fell upon a little table in the corner, generously furnished
-with materials for writing. It was, in consequence, very late before he
-committed himself to sleep. Yet he had only written two letters, the
-first to his mother, a faithful and exhaustive narrative of every hour
-since he had seen her last. It was a new experience to him, and he
-wondered a little at the almost mysterious ease with which he filled
-page after page. It was a new-found joy, this of writing—and both
-intellect and emotion entered into the task with a zest and instinct
-that surprised himself.
-
-The second letter was begun with much misgiving, and after long
-consideration. For it was to Madeline, to whom, in a kind of way he was
-quite at a loss to understand, his thought went out in his
-loneliness—far more, indeed, than it had ever done when he lived beside
-her. Much misgiving about this second letter there was, as has been
-said; and yet he felt it could not be unwelcome since its purpose was so
-far from personal—for its main story was of the little child and the
-poor family of whom he had come to know through his contact with Dr.
-Wallis. And he knew Madeline would love to help, in some way her own
-delicate judgment would suggest. But before he was through his pen had
-rather run away with him; and some of his impressions of the new life
-about him, with a little, too, that treated of life in general, had
-sighed itself in a kind of lonely soliloquy through the expanding pages.
-And he read this second letter over twice, correcting it with great
-care, a process the first had been denied.
-
-His trunk had been duly delivered, as Miss Farringall had assured him it
-should be, and it was with a kind of reverent tenderness that the lonely
-stranger raised the lid and surveyed all his poor belongings, each one
-lying where it had been placed by the loving hands that were now so far
-away. The care-worn face rose again before him as he bended over these
-last tokens of his mother’s devoted care; and instinctively, with a dumb
-sense that she would have wished it so, he searched first for the sacred
-book he had seen her place there. He soon found it, and carrying it to
-where the light might fall upon it, he turned wistfully to the fly-leaf.
-Still with his eyes fixed on it he sat down on the bed beside him, the
-dim mist gathering as the poor misguided handwriting looked up at him in
-all the eloquence of sightless love:
-
-"_Dear Harvey_
- _From his loving mother_"
-
-was all that was written there. But every character was aflame with
-fondness, and every word was a vision, bright with tender beauty,
-fragrant of the unselfish courage that had filled their lowly lives with
-a gladness denied to many a richer home. The very waywardness of the
-writing, the lines aslant and broken, enhanced the dauntless love that
-penned them; and Harvey’s lips were touched to the mute symbols with
-reverent passion.
-
-Still swimming, his eyes fell again upon the page, and he noticed—what
-he had not seen before—that something had been written at the lower
-corner. Isaiah 66:13, it said; and a moment later he had found the text.
-The full heart overflowed as he read: "As one whom his mother comforteth
-so will I comfort you." With a stifled sob, and still repeating the
-wonderful words, he sank on his knees beside the bed. And as he did so
-there arose before him the vision of other days, long departed now, when
-he had thus knelt for his evening prayer; a tranquil face looked down
-again upon the childish form, and he could almost feel the chill of
-little feet seeking cover while he prayed; the warm hands held his own,
-reverently folded together, and amid the stillness that wrapped his
-heart there floated out, with a silvery sound like that of an evening
-bell, the tones of the dear voice that had been so quick to prompt his
-childish memory or to recall his wandering thoughts. The hurried
-ending, the impulsive uprising, the swift relapse into boyish merriment,
-the plunge into the waiting crib, the good-night kiss, the sudden
-descent of darkness, the salvo of farewells the cozy cuddling into the
-arms of slumber—all these came back to him with a preciousness he had
-never felt before.
-
-His loneliness, prompted by every reminiscence, slowly turned to prayer.
-He tried to thank God for all the treasure his soul possessed in the
-dear ones at home, and to ask for strength to be worthy of love and
-sacrifice so great. He promised to be true; a swift memory of his
-mother’s fear lest dormant appetite should prove his foe mingled with
-his prayer a moment, and was gone. For the whole burden of his pleading
-seemed to revolve again and again about the love-laden text that had
-taken such a hold upon his heart, till at last he only repeated it over
-and over before God: "As one whom his mother comforteth so will I
-comfort you." Suddenly he paused; for he felt, though he knew not why,
-that his mother too was kneeling by the Mercy Seat—distant far, sundered
-by weary miles, yet he could not dispel the assurance, which warmed and
-caressed his very life, that another kept her sacred midnight vigil.
-And as he thought of Jessie’s slumbering face, and of the other’s,
-upturned in pleading for her son, a deeper peace than he had known
-before crept about him, the loneliness vanished like a mist, and but a
-few minutes passed before he slept the sweet sleep of all homeless lads
-who trust the keeping of their mother’s God.
-
-
-
-
- *XIX*
-
- _*A BRUSH WITH DEATH*_
-
-
-It was quite in vain that Harvey tried to read. For two much-loved
-faces, one worn and grave, the other bright and hopeful, kept coming and
-going between him and his book. Another, too, whose setting was a
-wealth of golden hair.
-
-"You seem in a hurry to get on—guess you’re going home," broke in a
-voice from the seat immediately opposite his own in the crowded car.
-
-Harvey smiled and laid his book aside. "I’m in a hurry all right," he
-answered, "though I don’t know that looking at one’s watch every few
-minutes helps matters much. But I don’t relish the idea of being late."
-
-"Student, aren’t you?" asked the man, nodding towards a pin in evidence
-on Harvey’s coat.
-
-"Yes—I’m just going home for a little visit."
-
-"Been long at college?"
-
-"A couple of years," answered Harvey; "they go rather slowly when a
-fellow’s anxious to get through. Say, isn’t this train going at a
-tremendous pace? What’s the matter?" his voice rising as he clutched
-savagely at the side of the seat.
-
-It was too late for his companion to make reply—already he was being
-caught into the current of the storm.
-
-What followed defies description. Harvey’s first thought was of some
-irregularity that would last but a moment—he could not realize that the
-worst had happened. A shrill voice from another part of the car cried
-out that they were off the rail, but he swiftly rejected the suggestion.
-An instant later he was as one struggling for his life. The engine had
-never left the rail and the driver was quite unconscious of the
-situation. Dragged ruthlessly along, the car leaped and bounded like a
-living thing: it seemed, like a runaway horse, to be stampeded by its
-own wild plunging as it was flung from side to side, bouncing almost
-clear of the road-bed with every revolution of the wheels.
-
-Flung into the corner by the window, Harvey braced himself as best he
-could with hands and feet, dimly marvelling at the terrible length of
-time the process seemed to last. He glanced upward at the bell-rope,
-swingly wildly; but he knew any attempt to reach it would be disastrous,
-if not fatal. Still the mad thing tore on; shrieks and cries rose above
-the din; parcels and valises were everywhere battering about as if flung
-from catapults; one or two of the passengers cried out in plaintive
-wrath, some as if remonstrating with a mettlesome steed, others as if
-appealing for a chance against the sudden violence. Harvey remembered,
-long after, how he had said to himself that he was still alive—and
-uninjured—and that all might yet be well, if it would only stop.
-
-Confused and terrified though he was, his senses worked with almost
-preternatural acuteness; he remarked the spasmodic eagerness with which
-men clutched at one another, muttering the while like contestants in a
-mighty struggle; the very grotesqueness of the thing flashed upon his
-mind an instant, as, the car taking its last desperate bound, he saw
-strong men flung about like feathers in a gale; two or three near him,
-shouting wildly, were tossed to the very ceiling of the car, their limbs
-outflung as when athletes jump high in air. Then the coach was pitched
-headlong; the man to whom he had spoken but a moment before was hurled
-through the spacious window, and the overturning car sealed his lips
-with eternal silence; two stalwart men fell full on Harvey’s crouching
-form—darkness wrapped him about as the car ploughed its way down the
-steep embankment.
-
-"This is death," he said involuntarily, and aloud, as the dread descent
-was being accomplished. Many things—much that could never be reproduced,
-more that could never be uttered—swam before him in the darkness. A
-sort of reverent curiosity possessed his soul, hurrying, as he believed
-himself to be, into the eternal. He was to know now! All of which he
-had so often heard, and thought, and conjectured, was about to unfold
-itself before him. A swift sense of the insignificance of all things
-save one—such an estimate as he had never had before—and a great
-conception of the transcendent claim of the eternal, swept through his
-mind. Then suddenly—as if emerging from the very wreck of things,
-illumining all the darkness and clothing the storm with a mysterious
-calm, there arose the vision of his mother’s face. A moment later all
-was still; blessed stillness, and like to the quietness of death. The
-car was motionless.
-
-But only for a moment did the stillness reign. Then came the wild
-surging of human voices, like the sound of many waters; appeal, frenzied
-fear, tormenting pain, pitiful enquiry—all blended to make it such a
-discord of human sounds as he had never heard before. It froze his soul
-amid all the agony of suspense he himself was bearing. For that human
-load was still upon him, still holding him pinned tight in the corner of
-the now overturned and shattered car; how much more might hold him down,
-he could not tell. And with this came his first real taste of terror;
-the thought of imprisonment beneath the heavy wreckage—and then the
-outbreaking fire—tore for a moment through his mind.
-
-But already he could feel the forms above his own writhing in their
-effort to rise; one, his thigh fractured, gave over with a loud cry of
-pain. The other was trying to lift him as gently as he might. Soon both
-were from above him. The moment that followed thrilled with
-suspense—Harvey almost shrank from the attempt to straighten himself up
-lest he might find himself pinned beneath the deadly truck. But he
-tried—and he was free. And he could see through the window of the door,
-upside down as it was, the sparkling sunshine, never so beautiful
-before.
-
-With a gasp of joy he bounded towards it—then stopped suddenly, checked
-by the rebuke of what he saw about him. For—let it be recorded to the
-praise of human nature and the credit of sorrow’s ministry—every man who
-was unhurt seemed engaged with those who were. Strong, selfish-looking
-men, utter strangers, men who had sat scowling behind their newspapers
-or frowning because some child’s boisterousness disturbed them, could
-now be seen bending with tender hands and tenderer words above some
-groaning sufferer, intent only on securing the removal of the helpless
-from the threatened wreck.
-
-Not threatened alone, alas! For even as they were struggling towards
-the sweet beguiling light a faint puff of smoke floated idly in about
-them; and the first to notice it—not with loud outcry but with hushed
-gasp of terror—was one unhappy man whom the most desperate efforts had
-failed to free from the wreckage. But as the car gradually filled with
-the smoke, and as, a little later, a distant crackling could be heard,
-the stifled moan became a cry, and the cry at length a shrieking appeal
-for deliverance from the living death that kept ever creeping nearer.
-
-"My God," he cried frantically, "you can’t leave me here—I’ll burn to
-death," his eyes shining with a strange unearthly light; "I’ll burn to
-death," he repeated in grim simplicity.
-
-Harvey never left him till the all-conquering flame had all but kindled
-his own garments; half-blind, soaking with perspiration, gasping for
-breath, he at last turned his back upon the awful scene and staggered
-away. The waters of death were now surging about the man—if the
-unfitting metaphor may be allowed. As he groped his way towards the brow
-of the up-torn declivity, Harvey stumbled on the silent form of the man
-who had sat beside him in the coach—a brakeman was hurrying towards it
-with a sheet. Then dense darkness flowed about, and kind unconsciousness
-delivered him.
-
- * * * * * *
-
-"You’ve made as good progress as any man could look for," the doctor
-said; "don’t you think so, Mr. Nickle? He’s been lucky all through, to
-my mind; two broken ribs, and a twisted elbow, was getting off pretty
-well—considering what he came through. Another week will do wonders."
-
-"It’s bad eneuch," rejoined the cautious Scotchman; "but it micht hae
-been waur."
-
-"Well, old chap, I guess I’ll have to go," the doctor said as he began
-putting on his gloves; "just have patience and you’ll be all right.
-What you’ll feel most will be the result of the shock—don’t get
-discouraged if you sag sometimes, and feel as if the bottom were falling
-out of everything. You’ll likely have queer spells of depression—all
-that sort of thing, you know. ’Twouldn’t be a bad idea to take a little
-spirits when you feel one coming on; and if a little doesn’t help, take
-a little more," he concluded, laughing.
-
-Mrs. Simmons’ face was white and drawn; but she controlled herself, and
-no word escaped her lips. When the doctor left the room she followed
-him, closing the door behind her. A few minutes later he returned:
-
-"Oh, I’ve just been thinking over that matter, Harvey," he began
-carelessly, "and I believe this prescription would be a fully better
-stimulant," producing pencil and pad and beginning to write.
-
-He remarked how Harvey received the advice—the latter’s lips were pale,
-and the doctor could see them quivering. "Don’t fool with the other at
-all," he added impressively: "I don’t believe it would do you a bit of
-good."
-
-Geordie Nickle lingered after the doctor had taken his departure; but he
-found it quite impossible to engage Harvey in conversation. "I hae nae
-doot a’ this sair experience’ll be for some guid purpose," he began, the
-face of the saintly man suffused with the goodness of his heart; "only
-dinna let it be wasted, laddie. A wasted sickness is a sair thing, an’
-a wasted sorrow’s waur—but there’s naethin’ sae sad as to look intil the
-face o’ death, wi’oot bein’ a different man to a’ eternity. It’s a
-waesome thing when a soul snatches spoils frae death—an’ then wastes
-them on life, my laddie," earnestness and affection mingling in the eyes
-that were turned on Harvey’s chair.
-
-But Harvey’s response was disappointing. "If I could only sleep a
-little better, Mr. Nickle. I’m really all right except for my nerves.
-Yes, what you say is very true, Mr. Nickle."
-
-After one or two equally fruitless attempts, the old man seemed to
-realize the hopelessness of his efforts. "Weel," he said pleasantly, "I
-maun be gaein’—yon’s the kirk bell that’s ringin’. Why, there’s David,"
-he cried suddenly, looking out of the window; "I’ll juist gie ye intil
-Mr. Borland’s care. I think yir mither said she’s gaein’ till the
-kirk—we’ll gang thegither," as the kindly patriarch made a brief
-farewell, withdrawing to join Mrs. Simmons and guide her to the house of
-prayer.
-
-"Hello, Harvey! Why, you’re lookin’ like a morning-glory," was David’s
-salutation as he drew his chair up beside Harvey’s. "I jest thought I’d
-drop in an’ look you over a bit when Madeline an’ her mother was at
-church. Ought to be there myself, I know," he went on, a reproachful
-smile on his face; "but it’s such an elegant mornin’—an’ besides, I’m
-doin’ penance. I remembered it’s jest two years ago to-day, by the day
-o’ the month, since I traded horses with Jim Keyes—an’ I thought mebbe I
-shouldn’t have took any boot—so I thought I’d jest punish myself by
-stayin’ away from the meetin’ this mornin’. How’re you keepin’, Harvey?"
-he concluded earnestly, his elbows on his knees as he peered into the
-patient’s face.
-
-"I’m not bad," said Harvey—"only a little grouchy. Is that really the
-reason you’re not going to church this morning, Mr. Borland?" he asked,
-a slight note of impatience in the tone. David might have noticed,
-indeed, that Harvey seemed ill at ease, and as if he would as soon have
-been alone.
-
-David stared at him. "That there accident must have bumped all the
-humoursomeness out o’ you," he said, grinning. "No, of course it’s
-not—but Dr. Fletcher ain’t goin’ to preach to-day. That’s the real
-reason. An’ he’s got a fellow from Bluevale rattlin’ round in his
-place; can’t stand him at all. He’s terrible long—an’ the hotter, the
-longer. They say he dives terrible deep; an’ mebbe he does—but he comes
-up uncommon dry," and David turned a very droll smile on his auditor.
-"The last time I heard him, he preached more’n fifty minutes—passed some
-excellent stoppin’-places, too," David reflected amiably; "but the worst
-of it was when he come to conclude—it was like tyin’ up one o’ them
-ocean liners at the dock, so much backin’ up an’ goin’ furrit again, an’
-semi-demi-quaverin’ afore he got plumb still. That’s the principal
-reason I’m punishin’ myself like this," he added gravely. "Say, Harvey,
-what’s makin’ you so kind o’ skeery like?—anythin’ hurtin’ you?"
-
-Harvey cleared his throat nervously. "I say, Mr. Borland," he began
-nervously, "would you do something for me?"
-
-David, very serious now, drew his chair closer.
-
-"You bet—if I can. What is it?"
-
-Harvey stood up and walked unsteadily towards the table. Then he thrust
-the little paper the doctor had left into a book. "I wonder if you’d go
-to the drug-store for me," he began rather huskily, "and get me a
-little—a little spirits—or something like that; spirits would be the
-best thing, I think—the doctor spoke of that. I’m just about all in,
-Mr. Borland—and I think if I were only braced up a little—just to tide
-me over, you know," he stammered, his courage failing him a little as
-David’s steady eyes gazed into his own.
-
-David looked long in silence. Then he rose, and without a word he took
-Harvey in his arms. Slowly they tightened round the trembling form, the
-old man holding the young as though he would shelter him till some cruel
-storm were past. Tighter still he held him, one hand patting him gently
-on the shoulder as though he were a little child.
-
-Harvey yielded to the embrace—and understood. When at length David
-partially released him, he looked into the face before him. The eyes
-that met his own were swimming, and David’s face was aglow with the
-yearning and compassion that only great souls can know.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," the shaking voice began, hardly above a whisper, "I love
-you like my own son. Don’t, Harvey—for God’s sake, don’t; kill your
-mother some other way," and again he drew the now sobbing lad close to
-his bosom.
-
-A moment later he whispered something in Harvey’s ear. It was a
-question—and Harvey nodded, his face still hidden.
-
-"I thought so," David murmured. "I thought so—an’ there’s only one way
-out, my boy, there’s only one way out. An’ it’s by fightin’—jest like
-folks fight consumption, only far harder. That ain’t nothin’ to this.
-Jest by fightin’, Harvey—an’ gettin’ some One to help you. All them
-other ways—like pledges, an’ promises, an’ all that—they’re jest like
-irrigatin’ a desert with one o’ them sprayin’-machines for your throat.
-I ain’t much of a Christian, I know—but there ain’t nothin’ any good
-’cept what Dr. Fletcher calls the grace of God. An’ if you think it’d
-help any, from an old fellow like me—I’ll—I’ll try it some, every
-mornin’ an’ night; ’twouldn’t do no harm, anyway," and the protecting
-arms again drew the yielding form into the refuge of his loving and
-believing heart.
-
-Only a few more sentences passed between the two; only a few minutes
-longer did David wait. But when he passed by the church on his homeward
-way his head was bowed, and his face was like to the faces of those
-whose lips are moist with the sacramental wine.
-
-
-
-
- *XX*
-
- _*THE RESTORING OF A SOUL*_
-
-
-"And you think you’ll go back to-morrow, Harvey? Are you sure you feel
-strong enough, my son? Your voice is weak."
-
-Harvey’s answer was confident enough. But pale he certainly was—and the
-resolute face showed signs of abundant struggle, and a new seriousness
-sat on the well-developed brow. "I think life’ll be all different to me
-now, mother," he went on; "a fellow can hardly go through what I have,
-without seeing things in a different light. I didn’t think so much of
-it when Mr. Nickle said it, but it’s been running through my mind a lot
-lately—he said what a terrible thing it is for a fellow to snatch spoils
-from death and then waste them on his after life."
-
-"He’s a godly man," the mother rejoined musingly. "He’s been like a
-light to me in my darkness—often I think my heart would have broken if
-it hadn’t been for him. When things looked darkest, and he’d drop in
-for a little talk, I always seemed to be able to take up the load and go
-on again. He and Mr. Borland have been good angels to us all," and the
-sightless face was bright with many a gladsome memory.
-
-"Mother, when you speak of darkness—and loads—do you mean—do you mean
-about your sight?"
-
-His mother reached out, instinctively guided, and laid a thin hand on
-one of Harvey’s. "Do I speak much about loads, my son, and darkness?"
-she asked in a gentle voice. "For I’ve always asked for grace to say
-little of such things as those."
-
-"But you haven’t answered me, mother," the son persisted. "Mother," he
-went on, sitting up straight, his voice arresting her startlingly,
-"you’ve been more to me, I think, than ever mother was to a son before.
-But I know, mother—at least, I think I know—I’m almost sure you’ve never
-told me all that troubles you; I feel sometimes as if there were some
-sealed book I’ve never been allowed to see. Don’t you understand,
-mother?"
-
-"What do you mean, my son? How could it be so?"
-
-"Well, mother," he went on, his voice low and serious, "look at it this
-way. You know how easily a mother kind of scents out anything like that
-about a son—just by a kind of instinct. Well, don’t you think sons love
-mothers just as much as mothers love sons?—and don’t they have the same
-kind of intuitions? Don’t you understand, mother?"
-
-She drew him closer to her side. "Yes, my son," she said after a long
-silence; "yes, I understand, my darling. If I understand anything, it’s
-that. And I’m going to ask you something, Harvey—you’ll forgive me, my
-boy, won’t you? But what you’ve just said opens the door for what I’m
-going to ask. And I’ve wanted to do it ever since you came home."
-
-Harvey’s heart told him what was coming. The very faculty he had been
-trying to define was pursuing its silent quest, he knew. And no
-movement, no exclamation betrayed surprise or resentment when his mother
-whispered her trembling enquiry in his ear.
-
-Perhaps he had never learned as well the luxury of a mother’s love.
-Once or twice he looked up wistfully, as though his mother’s eyes must
-be pouring their message into his, so full and rich was the tide of her
-outflowing love, strong, compassionate, healing, But the curtain still
-veiled the light of the luminous soul behind—and he realized then, as
-never before, that his loss had been almost equal to her own. Yet the
-soulful tones went far to make amends, caressing him with tenderness,
-inspiring him with courage, as little by little they drew from him the
-story of the days.
-
-"It all went so well for a long time, mother," he said, much having been
-said before. "Perhaps too well. I got the scholarship, as you know—and
-then another—and I was elected one of the inter-collegiate debaters.
-Then I got on the first eleven; perhaps that pleased me most of all; and
-I used to go to the other towns and cities often, to play. And I was so
-happy and comfortable at Miss Farringall’s—she’s been so good to me.
-And I gradually met a lot of nice people in the city; and I had quite a
-little of social life—that was how it happened," he said in a minor
-tone, his eyes on the floor.
-
-The mother said nothing, asked nothing. A moment later he went on of
-his own accord. "I don’t mean to make excuses, mother," he began, "but
-I didn’t really deliberately break the promise I gave you—and that
-comforts me a lot. But it was one night I was out at a Southern
-family’s home—they had just come lately to the city, and Dr. Wallis knew
-them. Well, they had refreshments; and they had a lot of queer Southern
-dishes. One was a little tiny thing—they called it a syllabub, or
-something like that; I had never heard of it before. And I took it—it
-had wine in it—and oh, mother," his eye lighting and his voice
-heightening at the memory, "no one will ever know—it was like as if
-something took fire. I didn’t know what it meant—I seemed so helpless.
-And I fought and I struggled—and I prayed—and I wrote out my promise to
-you and I used to read it over and over. And I was beaten, mother—I
-couldn’t help it," he cried pitifully, his voice echoing every note of
-pain—"and then I felt everything was up and I had nothing more to fight
-for, and I just—oh, I can’t tell you; it maddens me when I think of
-it—nobody’ll ever know it all. And Miss Farringall tried so to help
-me—so did Dr. Wallis—but I wouldn’t let anybody. I turned on them," he
-exclaimed fiercely; "and I tried to forget about you, mother—I tried to
-forget about you and Jessie. Then I played the coward. I came back
-afterwards to Miss Farringall, and I—I borrowed money from her;" he
-forced the words like one who tells a crime. "And after that——"
-
-Thus ran the piteous tale. The mother spoke no word for long,
-staunching the flowing wound as best she could and by such means as only
-mothers know. And she mutely wondered once or twice whether this—or that
-other night—had brought the deeper darkness.
-
-But when his voice was still; when the poor wild wailing that had rung
-through it all had hushed itself, as it were, within the shoreless deep
-of her great, pitying love, she asked him another question:
-
-"How much did you borrow from Miss Farringall, Harvey?" the voice as
-calm as if no storm of grief had ever swept it.
-
-"Five dollars, mother," he answered, the crimson face averted. "But I
-know one or two things I can deny myself this term—and that’ll pay it
-back;" the glance that stole towards his mother was the look of years
-agone.
-
-Without a word, dignity in every movement, she rose and made her way to
-a little bowl that stood on the table. From it she took an envelope,
-her fingers searching it; then she handed him its contents, the exact
-amount.
-
-He broke out in loud protest; but she was firm. "You haven’t anything
-there that you can afford to give up," she said quietly, "and we can
-afford this, dear—but not the other. Take it for mother’s sake," as she
-thrust the bill into his hand. It was worn and faded; but his eyes fell
-upon it as upon a sacred thing, hallowed by the love and sacrifice and
-courage that had wakened many a holy vow in his heart before. As they
-did now again, this latest token burning the hand that held it, melting
-the heart that answered its appeal of love.
-
-And the mother’s tryst began anew; closer than ever she clung to her
-unseen Helper; more passionately than before she turned her waiting eyes
-towards the long tarrying Light.
-
-
-
-
- *XXI*
-
- _*A HEATED DEBATE*_
-
-
-The years had left Harvey wiser than when first he entered college. The
-passing months, each opening the door a little wider, had admitted him
-farther and farther to the secrets of the new life about him—farther
-too, for that matter, into the mystery of life itself, the great
-complicated maze of which college life is at once the portal and the
-type.
-
-And as he stood in the main hall of the great Gothic building this
-bright spring morning, a reminiscent smile played about his lips as he
-recalled the day, far distant now, whereon he had first gazed in wonder
-on the animated scene. For that had been an epoch-marking day in
-Harvey’s life. The very stateliness of the surroundings had filled him
-with a subdued awe he had never felt before, and his breath had come
-quicker at the thought that he, a humble child of poverty, was really a
-successor to the many great and famous men who had walked these halls
-before him. His gown was faded and rusty now, but he could recall the
-thrill with which he had first donned it years ago, the only badge of
-rank he had ever worn. And how fascinated he had been by the restless
-throng of students that buzzed about him that opening day, each intent
-upon his own pursuit, and all, or nearly all, indifferent to the
-plain-clad stranger who felt himself the very least among them. Some,
-with serious faces, had hurried towards the professors’ rooms or gravely
-consulted the time-table already posted in the hall; while others,
-oblivious to the portent of the day, had seemed to hail it only as the
-gateway to a life of gaiety, entering at last upon the long-anticipated
-freedom their earlier lives had been denied.
-
-Not a few had moved idly about, turning blank faces here and there, all
-unquickened by the stimulus of the atmosphere and the challenge of the
-hour—dumb driftwood in life’s onmoving stream. And some there had
-been—on these Harvey’s gaze had lingered longest—who were evidently
-there by virtue of a heroism not their own, their plainness of apparel
-and soberness of mien attesting the struggle that lay behind the
-opportunity they had no mind to waste.
-
-
-He was opening a letter from Jessie now, handed to him from the morning
-mail; and the tide of youth flowed unnoticed about him as he devoured
-it, still standing on the spacious stair that led upward from the main
-entrance of the college. The smile on his face deepened as he read; for
-the letter was full of cheery tidings, all about their every-day toilful
-life, quickened as it had been by the good news concerning his progress
-in his studies. "We’re quite sure you’ll get another scholarship,"
-wrote the hopeful Jessie. And then followed the news of the
-village—much regarding Dr. Fletcher and the church, and a reference to
-the hard times that were paralyzing business—and a dark hint or two
-about the struggle David Borland was having to pull through; but it was
-rumoured, too, that Geordie Nickle was giving him a hand, and doubtless
-he would outride the storm. And Cecil had been home two or three times
-lately, the letter went on to say—and he and Madeline had been seen a
-good deal together, and everybody knew how anxious Mrs. Borland was that
-it should come to something—but everybody wondered, too, what was coming
-of Cecil’s work in the meantime; these things the now unsmiling Harvey
-read towards the close of the letter. And the last page or so was all
-about their mother, her sight giving as yet no sign of improvement, and
-her general health causing Jessie no little alarm. But they were hoping
-for the best and were looking forward with great eagerness to Harvey’s
-return when the college year should be ended.
-
-Harvey was still standing with the letter in his hand when a voice broke
-in on his meditations.
-
-"Well, old sport, you look as if you’d just heard from your sweetheart,"
-as Harvey looked quickly up. It was Cecil himself, and he stopped
-before his fellow student as if inclined to talk. For much of the
-antagonism between the two had been dissolved since both had come to
-college, Cecil being forced to recognize a foeman worthy of his steel
-when they had met on an arena where birth and patrimony go for nothing.
-A few casual meetings had led to relations of at least an amicable sort;
-once or twice, indeed, he had sought Harvey’s aid in one or two branches
-of study in which his townsman was much more capable than himself. But
-such occasions were obviously almost at an end. For the most
-uninitiated might have diagnosed Cecil’s case as he stood that spring
-morning before the one he had so long affected to despise.
-
-A false ideal of life, and of what constitutes life’s enjoyment, and a
-nature pampered from childhood into easy self-indulgence, together with
-strong native passions and ample means wherewith to foster them, had
-made their handiwork so plain that he who ran might read. The face that
-now was turned on Harvey was stained and spotted with marks significant
-of much, the complexion mottled and sallow, the eye muddy and restless,
-the voice unnaturally harsh and with the old-time ring departed—such a
-voice as years sometimes give. Real solicitude marked Harvey’s gaze as
-it rested on the youth before him; something of a sense of kinship,
-because of old-time associations—in spite of all that had occurred to
-mar it—and a feeling that in some indefinable way the part of protector
-was laid upon him, mingled with his thoughts as he noted the symptoms of
-the ill-spent years.
-
-"From your very own, isn’t it?" Cecil bantered again, looking towards
-the letter in Harvey’s hand.
-
-"You’re right enough; that’s exactly where it came from," the other
-answered, smiling.
-
-"I was just thinking about you," Cecil went on; "I’ve kind of chucked
-classes for this session—going to study up in the summer and take the
-’sup’s’ in the fall. I’ve been too busy to work much here," he
-explained with a grimace—"but that’s not what I wanted to speak to you
-about; some of the fellows asked me to bring you round to a little
-meeting we’re going to have this evening—seven to eight o’clock—we’re
-going to the theatre after it’s over. It’s something kind of new;
-Randolph got on to it down in Boston, and they say it’s fairly sweeping
-the country. I believe myself it’s the nearest thing to the truth, in
-the religious line, anybody’s discovered yet."
-
-"What is it?" Harvey asked interestedly.
-
-"Well, it’s a kind of religious meeting, as I said," Cecil informed
-him—"only it’s new—at least it’s new here; it’s a kind of theosophy, you
-know—and many of the strongest minds in the world believe in it," he
-added confidently. "That’s why we want you to sample it."
-
-Harvey waited a little before answering. "I’ve heard a bit about it,"
-he said at length; "I’ve read about it some—and I’d advise you to leave
-that sort of thing alone, Craig."
-
-"You’re not fair," the other retorted; "you’ve never heard it expounded,
-have you, now?"
-
-Harvey admitted that he had never had that privilege.
-
-"Then I want you to come to-night," urged Cecil; "come and give it a
-trial anyhow."
-
-A little further parley ended in Harvey’s consenting to attend the
-gathering of the faithful, not, however, without much candid prediction
-of the issue.
-
-
-Seven o’clock found him there. The believers, some thirteen or fourteen
-in all, were already assembled, and Harvey’s scrutiny of the different
-faces was swift and eager. Some few he recognized as those of earnest
-students, men of industry and intelligence. Others, the light of eager
-expectation on them as though the mystery of life were at last to be
-laid bare, belonged to men of rather shallow intellect, novelty-mongers,
-quick to yield to a seductive phrase or a plausible theory, men with
-just enough enterprise of soul to put out from shore, yet not enough to
-take their bearings or to find a pathway in the deep beyond. And two or
-three, conspicuous amongst whom was Cecil, were evidently hospitable to
-any theory, however fanciful, that would becalm the inward storm of
-their own making, and promise healing to secret wounds of shame, and
-absolve from penalties already pressing for fulfillment. Not
-intellectual unrest, but moral ferment, had been the tide wherewith they
-had drifted from the moorings they were now endeavouring to forget and
-professing to despise.
-
-The little room was fairly full and Harvey was seated on a small table
-in the corner. The proceedings were opened by a solemn-visaged youth
-who evidently felt the responsibility of his office. For he paused
-long, looking both around him and above, before he proceeded to read
-some ponderous passages from a book, evidently their ritual.
-
-Much of this was punctuated by ejaculatory eulogies of one, Lao-tsze.
-Harvey had never heard this name before, but the expounder pronounced it
-frequently in terms of decided reverence; and he was at great pains to
-convey to his hearers his dependence upon this man of unpronounceable
-name as the fountain-head of inspiration and guidance.
-
-The solemn disquisition ended, several others added their testimony to
-the light and comfort this teaching had afforded them, one or two
-venturing further to expound some doctrines which all seemed to find
-precious in proportion as they were obscure. Such phrases as
-"explication of the Divine Essence," "deduction of the phenomenal
-universe," "unity imminent in the whole," were freely dispensed, the
-listening faces answering with the light of intelligence, the light most
-resolutely produced where the shades were deepest. "Paracelsus" was a
-name several hastened to pronounce, and familiarly, as though he were an
-old-time friend. One very small student with a very bespotted face
-broke his long silence by rising to solemnly declare that since he had
-been following the new light he had come to the conclusion that God was
-the great "terminus ad quem," taking a moment longer to express his
-surprise and disappointment that all men did not so discern the truth in
-its simplicity.
-
-Another rose to deplore that so little was known of the life of the
-great and good Lao-tsze, but comforted his hearers with the assurance
-that this distant dignitary had been reincarnate in a certain American
-poet, whose name he mentioned, well known as a wandering printer whose
-naked lucubrations were given at intervals to a startled world. This
-later apostle then received his share of eulogy, after which the ardent
-neophyte quoted copiously from his works, scattering the leaves of grass
-among the listening circle.
-
-Exhausted, the speaker surrendered the floor to another, who launched
-into a glorification of the great Chinaman—and his successor—amounting
-to a deification. To all of which Harvey listened in respectful
-weariness, for he knew something of one of them at least, and of his
-works. Suddenly the devotee introduced the great name of Jesus Christ;
-for purposes of comparison alone did he quote the latter name, conceding
-to the founder of the Christian faith a place among the good and great,
-but making no attempt to conceal the deeper homage he accorded to the
-other.
-
-This was too much for the visitor, who could hardly believe his ears.
-Indifference had gradually taken the form of contempt, this in turn
-deepening to disgust as he listened to what at first struck him as
-shallow platitude, descending later to what he esteemed as blasphemous
-vulgarity. Deeper than he knew was his faith in the One his mother had
-taught his childish lips to bless; and, as there rose before him a
-vision of the humble life that same faith had so enriched and
-strengthened, of the heavenly light that had gilded her darksome path,
-of the sweetness and patience that this light and faith had so
-wonderfully wrought, his soul rose up in a kind of lofty wrath that
-overbore all considerations which might have sealed his lips. Moreover,
-a casual glance at his watch informed him that it was exactly half-past
-seven—and the covenant he had scarcely ever forgotten at that hour was
-secretly and silently fulfilled.
-
-Rising during a momentary silence, he was received with a murmur of
-subdued applause. But the appreciation of the circle was short-lived.
-
-"Did I understand the last speaker to say," he asked in a low, intense
-voice, "that he puts that man he quoted from—that American
-poet—alongside of, or ahead of, Jesus Christ?—as a moral character, I
-mean, and as a teacher of men?"
-
-The youth thus addressed made some evasive reply, not, however, revising
-his classification in the least.
-
-"Then listen here," exclaimed Harvey as he reached for the volume of
-poems lying on the table. "I’ll read you something more from your
-master." Hastily turning the leaves, he found the passage he was in
-search of after some little difficulty, and began slowly to read the
-words, their malodour befouling the atmosphere as they came.
-
-One of the faithful rose to his feet with a loud exclamation of protest.
-But Harvey overbore him. "If he’s all you say he is, you can’t
-reasonably object," he declared; "I’m not reading anything but what he
-wrote," still releasing the stainful stream.
-
-Harvey flung the book on the table as he finished. "The gutter’s the
-place for that thing," he blurted out contemptuously; "that’s where it
-came from—a reprobate that deserted his own children, children of shame
-though they were, and gave himself to kindling the lowest passions of
-humanity—these be your gods, oh Israel," he went on scornfully. "I’ll
-crave permission to retire now, if that’s the best you’ve got to help a
-fellow that finds the battle hard enough already—I’ll hold to the old
-faith till I get some better substitute than this," moving towards the
-door as he spoke.
-
-The leader almost angrily challenged him. "Perhaps our friend will tell
-us what he knows about ’the old faith,’ as he calls it, and why he
-clings to it so devotedly—it’s not often we get a chance to hear from a
-real Christian," he added jeeringly, "and it’s a poor cause that won’t
-stand argument."
-
-A chorus of voices approved the suggestion. "If you’ve got one good
-solid intellectual argument for it, let us hear it," one student cried
-defiantly. "We’ve had these believers on general principles with us
-before."
-
-Harvey turned, his hand already on the door, his face white and drawn.
-"Yes," he cried hotly, "I’ll give you one reason—just one—for the faith
-that’s in me. I don’t profess to be much of a Christian—but I know one
-reason that goes for more with me than all the mouthings I’ve heard here
-to-night. It’s worth a mountain of such stuff."
-
-"Let’s have it, then," the leader said, moving closer to where Harvey
-stood. "Give us your overwhelming argument."
-
-Harvey cast a haughty glance at him and those behind him.
-
-"I will," he thundered; "it’s my mother, by God," he cried passionately,
-the hot blood surging through his brain—"do you hear that—it’s my
-mother."
-
-There was a brief hush, for they must be reprobate indeed who would not
-recognize that sovereign plea. But one intrepid spirit soon broke the
-silence; a young stalwart of nineteen or twenty, towering among the
-rest, was quickly to the fore with his verdict. "Just what I expected,"
-he drawled derisively; "the old story of a mother’s influence; you
-forget, my dear fellow," turning towards Harvey as he spoke, "how
-credulous the woman-heart is by nature—and how easily they imagine
-anything they really want to believe. Besides, we haven’t the advantage
-of knowing your saintly relative," he added, something very like a sneer
-in the voice.
-
-He was evidently bent on developing his idea, but the words had hardly
-left his lips before Harvey had brushed aside those who stood between as
-he flung himself towards the speaker. His eyes were aflame, and his
-burning cheek and flashing eye told how deep the taunt had struck. He
-did not stop till his face was squarely opposite the other’s, his lips
-as tense as though they would never speak again.
-
-"Gemmell," he said, calling the man by name, "I don’t know whether you
-mean to insult me or not—but I’ll find out. You don’t know anything
-about my mother—and she’s not to be made the subject of discussion here.
-But I know her; and I know the miracle her dark life’s been. And if you
-say that that’s all been just her imagination, and her credulity, then I
-say you’re a liar and a cad—and if you want to continue this argument
-outside, by heavens, here’s the door—and here’s the invitation, —— you,"
-as he smote the astonished debater full in the face. Parrying the
-return blow, his lips white and livid, he turned to lead the way
-outside. His fuming antagonist made as if to follow him; but two or
-three, springing between the men, undertook the part of peacemakers.
-Perhaps Cecil’s efforts were as influential as any. "Let the thing drop,
-Gemmell," he counselled his friend in a subdued voice; "I know him of
-old—and he’s the very devil in a fight."
-
-Whatever the cause, the fact remains that when Harvey paused a minute or
-two outside the door he found himself joined by none but Craig himself.
-
-"Come on," said the latter, "what’s the use of making fools of ourselves
-over religion? Come on, and we’ll go to the theatre. I told you we
-intended going there after anyhow—but I doubt if the others will be
-going now; so we’ll just go ourselves. There won’t be anything very
-fine to hear, perhaps—but there’ll be something real interesting to look
-at," with a laugh that his companion could hardly fail to understand.
-But Harvey was thinking very little of what his guide was saying, his
-mind sufficiently employed with the incident just concluded, and he
-hardly realized whither he was being led till he found himself before
-the box-office in the lobby. A rubicund face within was the background
-for a colossal cigar that protruded half-way through the wicket; Cecil
-was enquiring from the source of the cigar as to the price of tickets.
-
-Rallying, Harvey made his protest and turned to go away. "I’ve got to
-work to-night," he said; "it’s too near exams."
-
-Craig laughed. "Don’t get nervous," he retorted significantly. "I’ll
-pay the shot—it’s only half a dollar each."
-
-Whereat Harvey, the pride of youth high within him, strode back to the
-window, almost pushing his companion from him as he deposited his money
-and pressed on into the crowded gallery.
-
-Not more than half an hour had passed when the spectacular side, as
-Cecil had so confidently predicted, grew more and more pronounced.
-
-"I told you," he whispered excitedly to Harvey; "look at that one in the
-blue gauze skirt," leaning forward in ardent interest as he spoke.
-
-Harvey’s answer was given a few minutes later when, without a word to
-the enchanted Cecil, he rose and quietly slipped towards the door and
-downward to the street. "Money with blood on it, too," he half muttered
-hotly to himself as he passed the office that had received the hard-won
-coin.
-
-Hurrying towards home, he suddenly noticed a heavy dray backed up
-against the window of an office; evidently the moving was being done by
-night, that the day’s work might not be interrupted. Pausing a moment to
-watch, the stormy face brightened a little as he stepped up to the man
-in charge of the waggon. There were only two, which made Harvey more
-hopeful of his scheme.
-
-"Want any help?" he asked abruptly.
-
-"You’re right we do," the man answered promptly. "Another of our men was
-to be here to-night, but he hasn’t turned up—I’ll bet a five he’s in the
-gods over there," nodding towards the festive resort that Harvey had
-deserted.
-
-"How long will it take?" enquired the student.
-
-The man reflected a moment. "Oh, I guess about two hours," he surmised;
-"that is, to get the things out and then get them hoisted in at Richmond
-Street."
-
-"How much’ll you give me if I help you?"
-
-"I’ll give you forty cents—and you’ll have a free ride," said the man
-jocosely.
-
-"Make it fifty," proposed Harvey. "I owe half a dollar—I’ll do it for
-fifty cents."
-
-"All right," replied the teamster, whereat Harvey flung the coat from
-his back and the burden from his conscience. And the face which Miss
-Farringall was now coming to await so eagerly was very bright when he
-got home that night, her own beaming as she marked its light.
-
-
-
-
- *XXII*
-
- _*BREAKERS AHEAD*_
-
-
-There is a peace, deep and mysterious, which only the defeated know. It
-is familiar to those who, struggling long to avert a crisis, find that
-their strivings must be all in vain. The student long in doubt; the
-politician weary of his battle; the business man fighting against
-bankruptcy—all these have marvelled at the strange composure that is
-born when the last hope of victory is dead. Many an accountant and
-confidential clerk, contriving through haunted years to defer the
-discovery which must some day lay bare his shame, has felt this
-mysterious calm when destiny has at last received him to her iron bosom.
-And who has not observed the same in some life struggling against
-weakness and disease?—when the final verdict is announced and Death
-already beckons, the first wild tumult of alarm and anguish will
-presently be hushed into a silent and majestic peace.
-
-David Borland’s kindly eyes had less of merriment than in the earlier
-years. The old explosive spark was there indeed, unconquerable still;
-but the years had endowed the face with a gentle seriousness, not
-visible before, which yet became it rather better than the merriment it
-had unconsciously displaced. And there were signs that other enemies
-than the passing years had wrought their havoc on the mobile face. For
-care and conflict, hope of victory to-day and fear of overthrow
-to-morrow, had wrought such changes as the years could not effect.
-
-Yet there was more of peace in the serious eyes than there had been of
-yore. Madeline was beside him as he sat this morning by the window,
-gazing long in silence at the handiwork of spring without. Soft wavy
-clouds floated in the sky, pressing serenely on their way as if there
-were no such things as tumult and pain and disappointment in the world
-beneath them; the air was vocal with many a songster’s jubilation that
-his exile was past and gone; the bursting trees and new-born flowers and
-tender grass all joined the silent anthem that acclaims the regeneration
-of the year—and David thought they had never seemed so beautiful.
-
-"There isn’t nothin’ can take that away from us, Madeline," he said at
-last, obviously as much to himself as to the girl beside him.
-
-"What, father?" she enquired softly.
-
-"Oh, lots o’ things—all the real things, that is. All that’s lovely; all
-I’m lookin’ at now—nobody can’t take them away, the trees, an’ the
-flowers, an’ the birds. No matter how poor we get, they’re some o’ the
-things thieves can’t break through an’ steal, as the Scriptur’ says," he
-mused, gazing far over the meadow at the orchard in its bridal robes,
-and beyond them both to the distant grandeur of the sky.
-
-"Will we really have to give up very much, father?" the girl ventured,
-unconsciously turning as she spoke and permitting her eyes to rove a
-moment about the richly furnished home.
-
-David was silent quite a while. His face seemed wrung with a pain he
-could not control, and his hands went out gently towards the girl’s
-head.
-
-"Let it down, daughter," he said quietly.
-
-"What, father? Let what down?"
-
-"I like it better the old way, dear," he said in answer, already
-releasing the wealth of lovely hair; "let it fall over your shoulders
-the way it used to do, Madeline," as the flowing tresses, but little
-darkened by the darkening years, scattered themselves as in other days.
-"Now sit here, Madeline—come. No, you’re not heavy, child; I’ve got
-kind o’ used to carryin’ loads these days—an’ this always seems to make
-’em lighter," as she nestled in his arms.
-
-Another long silence followed, broken at last by David’s brave,
-trembling voice. "This is the hardest part o’ the whole business,
-Madeline," he said resolutely. "But I just found out the worst this
-mornin’ —an’ I ain’t goin’ to keep nothin’ back. I’ve failed, daughter;
-I’ve failed—leastways, I’ve failed in business. I don’t think I’ve
-failed no other way, thank God," he added in firmer tone, but still
-struggling with his words. "There won’t be no stain, Madeline," his
-lips touching the flowing strands as he spoke; "but things got awful
-tight—an’ I made one last terrible effort—an’ it failed; it failed,
-Madeline."
-
-The girl’s arm was about his neck. "I knew there wouldn’t be any
-stain," she murmured as her face was bended downward to his own; "not
-with my father—and it won’t stop us being happy, will it?" she added
-hopefully, looking into the care-worn eyes.
-
-"No, dear, no," responded David—"only there’s just one thing troubles me
-the most. It’s about Geordie Nickle. He bought a lot o’ the stock; I
-felt at the time he done it just to help me—an’ I didn’t ask him—an’ I
-kind o’ hoped it’d all come out all right. But it didn’t, Madeline—an’
-Geordie’s lost an awful lot. I don’t know if he has more left—but I’m
-hopin’ so. There ain’t no better man in the world than him. One of the
-things that’s always kept me believin’ in God, is—is just Geordie
-Nickle. Men like him does more to keep faith livin’ than all the
-colleges an’ all the professors in the world; he’s a beautiful argument
-for religion, is Geordie Nickle—he kind o’ proves God, just the same as
-one sunbeam proves the sun," David concluded, his eyes still fixed on
-other credentials in the silent glory that wrapped earth and sky.
-
-It was some time before Madeline spoke again. "Poor old father," she
-said gently; "what you must have suffered all these long months—more
-than mother and I ever thought of."
-
-"It’s been years, child," the father answered softly; "lots o’ times I
-thought I couldn’t stand it no longer—but it came awful easy at the
-last," he suddenly exclaimed. "It was a kind of a relief when I knew
-the worst—real funny, how calm I took it. It’s a little like some women
-I seen once at an afternoon five-o’clock at-home," he went on dryly, a
-droll smile stealing over his face; "they was eatin’ them little rough
-cakes they call macaronies—an’ I was watchin’ two or three of the
-nobbiest of ’em. Well, they nibbled an’ nibbled so dainty, like a mouse
-at a hunk o’ cheese—an’ then, when they thought nobody wasn’t lookin’,
-they just stuck the whole thing in an’ swallowed it like a bullfrog does
-a fly, an’ then passed their cup as calm as you please for another
-helpin’ o’ tea. That’s a good deal the way I took my medicine when I
-got the last dose of it—had a kind of a feelin’ of relief. Didn’t you
-never notice how easy an’ quiet a stream runs when it’s past the
-waterfall? Shouldn’t wonder if this feelin’ I’ve got’s somethin’ the
-same as the way some fellows enjoys gettin’ a tooth yanked after they’ve
-been holdin’ hot salt to it every night for a month," and David heaved a
-reminiscent sigh as the memory of his own sleepless nights drifted
-before him for a moment.
-
-Very low, much of it inarticulate, some of it altogether silent, was the
-language with which Madeline sought to comfort the weary and wounded
-heart, little knowing how successful she was; the father held her closer
-and closer to him; and the swiftly slipping treasures around them, that
-must soon be sacrificed, seemed more and more insignificant as the
-preciousness of love’s possessions grew more real and more dear.
-
-"Do you know, Madeline, they tell me I won’t be worth nothin’ when
-everythin’s sold—an’ I only hope there’ll be enough for everybody—they
-tell me I won’t be worth nothin’—but I never felt richer than I do this
-minute," the words coming from lips half hidden among the golden hair.
-"They can all go to thunder about their assets, so long’s I’ve got this
-one—Bradstreet’s an awful liar about how much a man’s worth," he added
-almost gleefully, holding Madeline’s soft hand to his furrowed cheek.
-
-"And I never loved you so much as I do right now," the girl responded,
-employing his own words, her hand wandering among the gray. "Only I’m
-so sorry for mother—she was so fond of all the things. Where do you
-suppose we’ll live, father?" she asked him timidly after a pause.
-
-Mr. Borland made no reply for a little, his eyes fixed upon a lane of
-sunbeams that came dancing through the window.
-
-"I can’t exactly say, Madeline," he began slowly. "Only I reckon it’ll
-be a little place, wherever it is—but them’s often the kind that has the
-most room," he went on reflectively; "I’m sure there’ll be room for
-everybody we love, an’ every one that loves us. I often think how it
-was the One that hadn’t no place to lay His head that offered everybody
-else a place to rest in," he mused reverently; "an’ I think it ought to
-be a little that way with folks, no matter how poor they get."
-
-Before his words were ended Madeline had slipped from his arms; looking
-up, David could just see her disappearing as she hurried up the stairs.
-Half in sorrow, half in jubilance, he was still holding communion with
-his thoughts when she returned, the dancing sunbeams falling athwart her
-face as she resumed the place she had deserted.
-
-"I’ve got something to tell you, father," she began excitedly, drawing a
-tiny paper book from its envelope. "It’s just a little surprise—but I’m
-so glad I’m able to do it. No, father, you mustn’t refuse," she
-protested as she saw him beginning to speak, his eyes remarking what she
-held in her hand. "I saved this all myself, father; I began over two
-years ago—it’s nearly three hundred dollars," she declared jubilantly
-after a fitting pause, "and I was going to get something with
-it—something special, something wonderful—it doesn’t matter now what it
-was—besides, I wanted you to see how saving I could be. But now I want
-you to take it all, father," the eager face, so unfamiliar with
-financial magnitudes, radiant with loving expectation, "and pay those
-awful creditors. Won’t that help, father?—won’t it help?" she cried
-again, not knowing what to make of the expression on her father’s face.
-
-David Borland’s hands shook as he took the little pass-book. His head
-was bowed over it and the silence lasted till a hot blur fell upon it, a
-message from afar.
-
-"Yes," he murmured huskily. "Yes, thank God, it helps; more than any
-man can tell till he’s got a broken heart like mine," he said
-passionately, the long stifled tide of grief and care bursting forth at
-last. "It more than helps—it heals," he murmured iow again, holding the
-pass-book close over his brimming eyes. "Who’s that?" he suddenly
-digressed sharply, the deathlike stillness broken by a knock at the
-door. "Who’s got to go an’ come now of all times?" as he released the
-wondering girl, already moving forward to answer the summons.
-
-"Come in, come in," David heard her cry delightedly a moment later, his
-own face brightening as he recognized the voice. Instinctively he rose
-as if to rush across the room and bid welcome to the visitor; yet
-something seemed to check the impulse as he sank back in his chair, an
-expression of deepening pain on the tired face. But the resolve formed
-strong within him again and the voice rang like a trumpet.
-
-"Come in, Mr. Nickle," it cried, echoing Madeline’s, "come in, an’
-welcome. I see by your face you know it all—an’ I knew you wouldn’t be
-long o’ comin’. Sit down—here, alongside o’ me."
-
-A man shall be as a refuge from the storm; so runs the ancient message
-that has shed its music on multitudes of troubled hearts. And how
-wonderfully true! How mysterious the shelter that one life affords
-another, if only that life be strong and true; gifted it need not be,
-nor cultured, nor nimble with tender words nor skilled in caressing
-ways—for these are separate powers and sparingly distributed. But let
-the life be true, simple and sincere and brave, and its very existence
-is a hiding-place; no word may be spoken, or aim achieved, or device
-employed, but yet the very being of a strong and earnest man remains the
-noblest pavilion for the defeated and the sad.
-
-How oftentimes the peace of surrender is deepened by an experience of
-friendship such as comes only to the vanquished! And friendship’s
-sweetest voice is heard by the despairing heart. Thus it was with David
-Borland as his friend sat beside him, so grave and tender, his very look
-betokening that he knew all about the long, bitter conflict, as he
-obviously knew the disaster that had marked its close. He sat long in
-comparative silence, only a word at intervals to show that he was
-following David’s story.
-
-"An’ I feel worse over that than all the rest," David said at length,
-"to think you lost by me. But I’ll see yet that no man will lose a cent
-by me, if I’m spared long enough—there’s a heap o’ work in these old
-bones yet," he went on bravely, "if only——"
-
-"And what about me, father?—what about me?" Madeline broke in, drawing
-near with half outstretched hands; "I’m going to work too—there isn’t
-any one in this house as strong as I am," she affirmed, her glowing face
-and flashing eyes indicating the sincerity of her words.
-
-David Borland almost groaned as he took the extended hands. "Oh, child,
-they’re so soft, they’re so soft and tender. And you’ll never do a
-day’s work while your old dad can work for you," he said tenderly,
-gazing into the deep passion of her eyes.
-
-"Won’t I though? I’ll show you, father," she cried in sweet defiance.
-"Do you think I’m nothing but an ornament, a useless ornament?" she
-asked reproachfully. "Why can’t a woman bear her part in the battle
-just as well as men?—I’m going to do it, anyhow. I know how to do lots
-of things; I can teach, or sew, or do woodwork—or I can learn
-stenography—it doesn’t matter which; only we’ll fight it out together,
-father, you and me—and mother," she added dutifully.
-
-David’s eyes were swimming with loving admiration. Once or twice he
-tried to utter what he felt, but the words seemed to choke before they
-reached his lips. Finally he found the very ones he wanted. "Madeline,
-you’re a thoroughbred," was all he said; but the girl knew the greatness
-of the eulogy.
-
-David turned again to his visitor. "Please don’t think I’m buttin’ in
-where I’ve no business—but I can’t keep from wonderin’ if—if—if this has
-took everythin’," he said in much embarrassment. "That’s been kind of
-hauntin’ me for months."
-
-The old man smiled. "I dinna feel it maitters muckle aboot mysel’," he
-answered slowly. "I’ll hae what I’ll be needin’ till I gang till my
-rest, I’m thinkin’," he went on quietly; "an’ ony way, I gaed intill’t
-wi’ my eyes open—but I thocht it was for the best. There’s juist ae
-maitter that’s giein’ me mair trouble than anither."
-
-"What’s that?" David asked abruptly; "I’ll bet all I haven’t got it’s
-not yourself."
-
-"Weel, ye’re richt—it’s no mysel’," Geordie answered; "I could thole it
-better if it was. It’s the laddie—it’s Harvey, ye ken. You an’ me’ll
-no’ be able to help him ony mair—an’ the laddie was daein’ fine at the
-college; an’ I’m dootin’ it’ll be a sair blow on his puir mither to tak’
-him awa. Does she ken?" he asked, slowly raising his head towards
-David.
-
-"I don’t think so," said his friend; "but I suppose she’ll have to be
-told sooner or later."
-
-"Hoo lang will it be till the laddie’s through?"
-
-"He gets his degree the next graduating class," volunteered Madeline,
-her face showing the keenness of her interest. "It’s not so very, very
-long," she added wistfully, looking as unconcerned as possible.
-
-Then the old man began in the quietest and most natural way to tell
-David and Madeline all about his circumstances, the simple story touched
-with the pathos of an utterly unselfish heart. For his chief concern
-was evidently not for himself at all—he would have enough with strict
-economy to keep a roof still above his head—but his grief for Harvey’s
-interrupted career was sincere and deep. He recognized fully, and
-admitted frankly, that it would take what little was left him to supply
-the humblest necessities of his remaining years. But this seemed to
-give him little or no disquietude; his thoughts were divided between
-Harvey and his mother, and he seemed troubled as to how the latter
-should be apprised of the cloud that had brought this additional
-darkness to her life.
-
-"She’ll no’ learn it frae the lips o’ gossip, if I can help it," he said
-resolutely at last, his staff coming down with emphasis on the floor.
-
-"Go easy on that Turkey rug, Mr. Nickle," David interrupted with
-valorous merriment; "it belongs to my creditors now, you know."
-
-Geordie permitted himself to abandon his line of thought long enough to
-say: "Ye dinna mean to tell me, David, that ye’ll hae to part wi’ a’ yir
-bonnie bit things aboot the hoose?"
-
-David never flinched as he looked straight into the sober eyes.
-
-"All that’s of any value," he answered resolutely; "no stolen plumage
-for me—I’ve no desire for it, thank God," he added cheerily. "I don’t
-want nothin’ but a few little necessaries—an’ a couple o’ luxuries, such
-as this here," drawing Madeline within his arm as he spoke; "it’s great
-how the law can’t get at a fellow’s real treasures. Just what I was
-sayin’ to you a few minutes ago, Madeline—the things that counts the
-most is the things that’s left, no matter how poor a fellow gets."
-
-Geordie’s eyes were shining with delight; such philosophy as this
-touched the inmost heart of him.
-
-"Ye’re richt, David, ye’re richt," he cried fervently. "Man, but it’s
-bonnie to see ye takin’ the chastenin’ o’ th’ Almichty like ye dae. I
-was sair feart for ye, when I found oot what was gaein’ to happen. But
-ye’ve got the richt o’t, David, ye’ve got the richt o’t," the old man
-went on earnestly; "it’s a sair loss, nae doot—but it canna rob ye o’
-what ye love the most. An’ I’ll tell ye anither thing, David," he
-pursued, his voice the prophet voice, "it canna rob ye o’ the providence
-o’ God—it canna change the purpose o’ His will for ye," and Geordie’s
-outstretched hand, not often or lightly so extended, took David’s in its
-own. "But aboot Harvey’s mither," he suddenly resumed, recalling the
-thread that had been broken; "she’ll no’ hear what’s happened frae the
-lips o’ gossip. I’ll tell her mysel’," he affirmed, the resolution
-forming swiftly; "an’ I’ll dae it when I’m gaein’ hame frae here,"
-proceeding forthwith to button up his coat preparatory to departure.
-
-"I’ll go with you," David said quietly. "There’s no reason why I
-shouldn’t. I’ve a lot to regret, but nothin’ to be ashamed of—nothin’
-to be ashamed of, as I said afore. Where’s your mother, Madeline?—I
-want to see her afore I go."
-
-"She’s up-stairs," Madeline answered in rather a subdued tone. "I think
-she’s looking over some things."
-
-David sighed as he rose and turned towards the stair. Reaching the room
-above, he found his wife gazing upon the rich contents of several
-receptacles whose treasures were outturned upon the floor. He sat down
-beside her on the bed, making rather a plaintive attempt to comfort the
-heart whose sorrow he knew was different from his own.
-
-"I’m going to keep everything of Madeline’s I can," she said, after some
-preliminary conversation. "Poor child, she was looking forward so to
-her coming-out party—but I guess that’s all a thing of the past now,"
-she sighed. "And everybody said you were going to be elected the town’s
-first mayor, too. I was counting so much on that—but of course they
-won’t do it now. But do you know, David, there’s one bit of consolation
-left to us—and that’s about Madeline. I think, I think, David, she’ll be
-provided for, all right, before very long," smiling significantly as she
-made the prediction.
-
-"How?" David asked, quite dumfoundered, yet not without a kind of chill
-sensation in the region of his heart.
-
-"Oh, the old way," responded his wife; "the old, old way, David. I’ve
-seen signs of it, I think—at least I’ve seen signs that some one else
-wouldn’t mind taking care of her, some one that would be able to give
-her quite as much as we ever did," she concluded, a note of decided
-optimism in the voice.
-
-David sat up straight and gasped. "Surely," he began in a hoarse voice,
-"surely you ain’t talkin’ about—about matrimony, are you, mother?"
-
-Madeline’s mother smiled assentingly. "That’s the old, old way, David—I
-guess that’s what it’ll end in, if things go on all right. Don’t look
-so stormy, David—I should think you’d be glad."
-
-"Glad!" cried David, his voice rising like a wind. "Good Lord,
-glad—glad, if a fellow’s goin’ to lose everything an’ then be left
-alone," he half wailed; "you expect a fellow to be glad if he gets news
-that he might have to part with the dearest thing he’s got?" he went on
-boisterously. "But I’m makin’ a goat o’ myself," chastening his tone as
-he continued; "there ain’t no such thing goin’ to happen. Who in
-thunder do you imagine wants our Madeline?—I’d like to see the cuss
-that’d——"
-
-"But, David," his wife interrupted rather eagerly, "wait till I tell you
-who it is—or perhaps you know—it’s Cecil; and I’m quite sure he’d be
-ever so attentive, if Madeline would only permit it. And I don’t
-suppose any young gentleman of our acquaintance has the prospects Cecil
-has."
-
-David’s face wore a strange expression; half of pity it seemed to be and
-half of fiery wrath. "That’s so, mother," he said in quite a changed
-voice; "if all reports is true there ain’t many with prospects like
-his—he’ll get what’s comin’ to him, I reckon. But there’s one thing I’m
-goin’ to tell you, mother," and the woman started at the changed tone of
-the words, so significant in its sternness, "an’ I’ll jest tell it to
-you now—an’ it’s this. Mebbe we’ll have to beg our bread afore we’re
-through—but Cecil ain’t never goin’ to have our Madeline—not if me an’
-God can help it," whereat he turned and went almost noiselessly from the
-room, his white lips locked in silence. And Madeline wondered why his
-eyes rested so yearningly on her when he returned, filled with such
-hungering tenderness as though he were to see her never more.
-
-
-
-
- *XXIII*
-
- _*INGENUITY OF LOVE*_
-
-
-Neither Geordie nor David spoke a word as they went down the steps and
-passed slowly along the avenue that led from the gate to the house. But
-just as they opened the gate David turned and took a long wistful survey
-of the scene behind.
-
-"It’ll be quite a twist to leave it all," he said, trying to smile.
-"I’ve got so kind o’ used to it—there’s a terrible pile o’ difference
-between _bein’_ poor an’ _gettin’_ poor," he added reflectively.
-
-"But ye’d hae to gang awa an’ leave it, suner or later," Geordie
-suggested; "it comes to us a’—an’ it’s only a wee bit earlier at the
-maist."
-
-"That’s dead true," assented David; "sometimes I think th’ Almighty
-sends things like this to get us broke in for the other—a kind of
-rehearsal for eternity," he concluded, quite solemnly for him. "Look
-there, Mr. Nickle," he suddenly digressed, pointing towards the house,
-"d’ye see that upper left-hand window, with the light shinin’ on it, an’
-the curtain blowin’ out?—well, that’s where Madeline was born. It’s kind
-o’ hard," he said, so softly that Geordie scarcely heard.
-
-"But ye hae the lassie wi’ ye yet—the licht’s aye shinin’ frae her
-bonnie face," Geordie replied consolingly.
-
-"Poor child, she’s had to scrape up most o’ the sunshine for our home
-herself this last while," responded David, "but it ain’t goin’ to be
-that way after this—when things is dark, that’s the time for faces to be
-bright, ain’t it?—even if a fellow does lose all he’s got. Do you know,
-Mr. Nickle," he went on very earnestly, "I’ve a kind of a feelin’ a man
-should be ashamed of himself, if all his money’s done for him is to make
-him miserable when it’s gone. I mean this," turning and smiling
-curiously towards Geordie, "if a fellow’s had lots o’ money, an’ all the
-elegant things it gets him, it ought to kind o’ fit him for doin’
-without it. I don’t believe you catch my meanin’—but money, an’
-advantages, ought to do that much for the man that’s had ’em, to learn
-him how to do without ’em if he has to—it ought to dig wells in him
-somewhere that won’t dry up when his money takes the wings o’ the
-mornin’ an’ flies away, as the Scriptur’ says."
-
-"Yon’s graun’ doctrine, David," Geordie assented eagerly; "forbye,
-there’s’ anither thing it ought to dae for a man—it should let him ken
-hoo easy thae man-made streams dry up, an’ what sair things they are to
-minister till the soul. An’ they should make him seek the livin’ water,
-so he’ll thirst nae mair forever. I seem to ken that better mysel’ than
-I’ve ever done afore."
-
-"Mebbe that’s part o’ the plan," David made reply; "’cause how a fellow
-takes a thing like this here that’s happened me, depends ’most
-altogether on jest one thing—an’ I’ll tell you what it is—whether he
-takes it good or bad depends on whether he believes there’s any plan in
-the business at all. I mean some One else’s plan, of course. There’s a
-terrible heap o’ comfort in jest believin’ there’s a plan. When things
-was all fine sailin’ with me, I always held to the plan idea—always kep’
-pratin’ about the web a higher hand was weavin’ for us all—an’ I ain’t
-agoin’ to go back on it now," he added with unwonted vehemence. "No,
-sir, I never believed more in God’s weavin’ than I do this minute.
-’Tain’t jest the way I’d like it wove—but then we don’t see only the one
-side," he added resignedly. "D’ye know, Mr. Nickle, we’re terrible
-queer critters, ain’t we? It really is one of the comicalest things
-about us, that we don’t believe th’ Almighty’s plan for us is as good as
-our own plan for ourselves. Funny too, ain’t it, now?" he pursued, "an’
-the amusin’ part o’ the whole business is this, how the folks that’s
-most religious often kicks the hardest when they ain’t allowed to do
-their share o’ the weavin’," he concluded, looking earnestly into his
-friend’s face.
-
-Geordie’s reply found expression more by his eyes than by word of mouth.
-But both were interrupted by their journey’s end, for by this time they
-had arrived at the little store. Entering and enquiring for Mrs.
-Simmons, they were conducted by Jessie into the unpretentious
-sitting-room where Harvey’s mother was seated in the solitary armchair
-that adorned the room, her hands busy with the knitting that gave
-employment to the passing hours.
-
-Grave and kindly were the salutations of her visitors, equally sincere
-and dignified the greetings in return. After some irrelevant
-conversation, David introduced the purpose of their visit with the tact
-that never fails a kindly heart, bidding his friend tell the rest; and
-the half-knitted stocking fell idle on her lap as the silent listener
-composed herself bravely to hear the tidings that something assured her
-would be far from welcome.
-
-Once or twice she checked a rising sigh, and once or twice she nervously
-resumed the knitting that had been given over; but no other sign bespoke
-the sorrow and disappointment that possessed her. If any wave of pain
-passed over the gentle face, it found no outlet in the sightless eyes.
-Geordie kept nothing back; the whole story of their present
-situation—and of their consequent helplessness to further aid her
-scholar son—was faithfully rehearsed. And the very tone of his voice
-bore witness to the sincerity of his statement that the whole calamity
-had no more painful feature than the one it was their mission now to
-tell.
-
-"I’m content," she said quietly when Mr. Nickle had concluded. "I’ll
-not deny that the hope of—of what’s evidently not to be—has made the
-days bright for me ever since Harvey went away," she went on, as if her
-life had never known darkness; "but he’s had a good start, and he can
-never lose what he’s got already—and maybe the way’ll be opened up yet;
-it’s never been quite closed on us," she added reverently, "though it
-often looked dark enough. The promise to the poor and the needy never
-seems to fail. And I’m sure Harvey’ll find something to do—and oh," she
-broke in more eagerly than before, "I know the very first thing he’d
-want me to do is to thank you both for your great kindness, your
-wonderful kindness to us all," she concluded, both hands going out in
-the darkness to hold for a moment the hands of her benefactors.
-
-The conversation was not much longer continued, both Geordie and David
-retreating before the brave and trustful resignation as they never would
-have done before lamentation or repining. And after they had gone
-Jessie and her mother sat long together in earnest consultation; for the
-one was as resolved as the other that something must be done to avert
-the impending disaster.
-
-"Just to think, mother, he’d be a B.A. if he could only finish with his
-class," said Jessie; "and then, then he could be nearly any thing he
-liked, after that. If only business were a little better in the shop,"
-she sighed.
-
-"But it’s losing, Jessie," the mother replied, forcing the candid
-declaration. "I can tell that myself—often I count how many times the
-bell above the door rings in a day; and it’s growing less, I’ve noticed
-that for a year now. It’s all because Glenallen’s growing so fast,
-too—that’s the worst of it; what helps others seems to hurt us."
-
-Jessie understood, the anomaly having been often discussed before; it
-had been discussed, too, in the more pretentious shops, though in a far
-different frame of mind. "We’ve got along so well this far—we’ve got
-almost used to doing without things," she said with a plaintive smile,
-"and it seems such a pity to have to stop when the goal’s in sight."
-
-"If I were only stronger," mused the mother; "but I’m not," she added
-quietly, the pale face turning towards Jessie’s—"your mother’s not
-gaining any; you can see that, can’t you, dear?"
-
-Jessie’s protest was swift and passionate. "You mustn’t talk that way,"
-she cried appealingly; "you’ve spoken like that once or twice—and I
-won’t hear of it," the voice quivering in its intensity. "You’re going
-to get well—I’m almost sure you will. And there’s nothing more I’d let
-you do," her eyes glowing with the ardour of her purpose, "if you were
-as well and strong as ever in your life."
-
-Mrs. Simmons smiled, but the smile was full of sadness.
-
-"Have it as you will, my child," she said, "but there’s no use shutting
-our eyes to the truth—it’s for your own sake I spoke of it, Jessie.
-When you write to Harvey, do you tell him I’m gaining, dear?" a smile on
-the patient face.
-
-Jessie was silent a moment. "Don’t, mother don’t," she pleaded. "Let’s
-talk about what we’ll do for Harvey. Oh, mother," the arms going about
-the fragile form in a passion of devotion, "it seems as if your troubles
-would never end; it’s been one long round of care and struggle and pain
-for you ever since I can remember. And this last seems the worst, for I
-know how you’ve lived for Harvey. And it shan’t all be for nothing;
-we’ll get through with it somehow—I know we will."
-
-"You shouldn’t pity me so, my daughter," and the mother’s voice was as
-calm as the untroubled face. "I really don’t think you know how much
-happiness I’ve had; I often feel there’s nothing so close to joy as
-sorrow. And you and Harvey have been so good—and I’m so proud of him.
-The way’s always been opened up for us; and God has strengthened me, and
-comforted me, beyond what I ever thought was possible. And besides,
-dear," the voice low and thrilling with the words that were to come,
-"besides, Jessie, I’ve had a wonderful feeling lately that it’s getting
-near the light—it’s like a long tunnel, but I’ve caught glimpses of
-beauty sometimes that tell me the long darkness is nearly over. Oh, my
-darling," she went on in the same thrilling voice, holding her close in
-a kind of rapture, "I never was so sure before—not even when I could see
-all around—never so sure—that it’s all light after all, and my very
-darkness has been the light of God. I don’t know why I should cry like
-this," she sobbed, for the tears were now falling fast, "for I’m really
-happy—even with all this new trouble; but for days and days lately I’ve
-kept saying to myself: ’They need no candle, neither light of the
-sun’—and I can’t think of it without crying, because I know it’s true."
-
-Very skillfully did Jessie endeavour to turn the conversation into other
-channels; her own sinking heart told her too well that her inmost
-thought was not far different from her mother’s. For the dear face was
-daily growing more pale and thin, and the springs of vitality seemed to
-be slowly ebbing. But on this she would not permit her mind to dwell.
-
-"Don’t you think we could get some bright girl to mind the shop, mother;
-some young girl, you know, that wouldn’t cost very much? Because I’ve
-just been thinking—I’ve got a kind of a plan—I’ve been wondering if I
-couldn’t make enough to help Harvey through. You know, mother, I can
-sew pretty well—Miss Adair told me only yesterday I managed quite as
-well as the girls with a regular training, and she just as much as
-offered me work. And I’ll see her about it this very day; we could get
-some one to mind the shop for a great deal less than I could make—and
-Harvey could have the rest. You wouldn’t object, would you, mother? I
-wouldn’t go out to sew; some of the girls take the work home with them,
-and so could I. Or, if I was doing piece-work, I might be able to mind
-the store myself at the same time—there seems to be so little to do
-now," she added, looking a little ruefully towards the silent shop.
-
-The expression of pain deepened on the mother’s face as she listened.
-Yet she did not demur, although the inner vision brought the tired
-features of the unselfish girl before her. "It seems hard," she said at
-length; "I was always hoping you’d soon have it a little easier—but this
-will only make it harder for you."
-
-"But not for long," Jessie interrupted cheerily; "just till Harvey’s
-through—and then he’ll be able to make lots of money. And maybe you and
-I’ll be able to go away somewhere for a little rest," she added
-hopefully, her eyes resting long on the pallid face.
-
-"Harvey must never know," the mother suddenly affirmed; "we’ll have to
-keep it from him, whatever happens, for I know he wouldn’t consent to it
-for a moment. Where are you going, Jessie?" for she knew, her sense of
-every movement quickened by long exercise, that the girl was making
-preparations to go out.
-
-"I’m going to see Miss Adair, mother. I won’t be long—but now that my
-mind’s set on it, I can’t rest till I find out. If I can only get that
-arranged, it’ll make it so much brighter for us all."
-
-The mother sat alone with many conflicting thoughts, marvelling at all
-that so enriched her life, dark though it was, and bearing about with it
-a burden that no heart could share.
-
-Jessie’s errand was successful, as such errands are prone to be; and
-only those who understand life’s hidden streams could have interpreted
-the radiance on the maiden’s face as she returned to announce her
-indenture unto toil, new gladness springing from new sacrifice, for such
-is the mysterious source whose waters God hath bidden to be blessed.
-
-
-David was absorbed in a very sober study as he walked slowly homeward.
-Not that he shrank from the personal sacrifice that his present
-circumstances were about to demand, or that any sense of dishonour
-clouded his thought of the business career that seemed about to
-close—from this he was absolutely free. But he was feeling, and for the
-first time, how keen the sting of defeat can be to a man whose long and
-valiant struggle against relentless odds has at last proved unavailing.
-
-Still reflecting on this and many other things, he suddenly heard
-himself accosted by a familiar voice; turning round, he saw Mr. Craig
-hurrying towards him.
-
-"Going home, Borland?" said the former as he came up with him; "I’ll
-just walk along with you if you are—I want to talk to you."
-
-David’s mind lost no time in its calculation as to what the subject of
-this conversation would likely be; during all his period of struggle,
-well known and widely discussed as it had been, Mr. Craig had never
-approached him before. David felt an unconscious stiffening of the lip,
-he scarce knew why.
-
-"I wanted to tell you, Borland, for one thing," Mr. Craig began as they
-walked along, "how much I feel for you in the hard luck you’re having."
-
-"Thank you kindly," said David promptly.
-
-"I don’t suppose I’m just able to sympathize as well as lots of men
-could," Mr. Craig observed; "unbroken success doesn’t fit one for that
-sort of thing."
-
-"Oh!" said David, volumes in the tone.
-
-"Well," said the other, not by any means oblivious to the intonation, "I
-suppose it does sound kind of egotistical—but I guess it’s true just the
-same. I suppose I’m what might be called a successful man."
-
-"I reckon you might be _called_ that, all right," said David, getting
-out his knife and glancing critically at a willow just ahead. The
-spirit of whittling invariably arose within him when his emotions were
-aroused.
-
-"What do you mean?" Mr. Craig enquired, a little ardently. He had
-noticed David’s emphasis on one particular word.
-
-"I don’t mean nothin’," responded David, making a willow branch his own.
-
-"You seem to doubt a little whether I’ve really been successful or not?"
-ventured the other, looking interrogatively at his companion.
-
-"Depends," said David laconically; "you’ve been terrible successful
-outside."
-
-"I don’t just follow you," Mr. Craig declared with deliberate calmness.
-"I don’t suppose we judge people by the inside of them—at least I
-don’t."
-
-"I do," answered David nonchalantly. "A fellow can’t help it—look at
-this here gad; it looked elegant from the outside," holding it up to
-show the wound his knife had made.
-
-"What’s the matter with it?" Mr. Craig rejoined, pretending to look
-closely.
-
-"It’s rotten," said David.
-
-"What do you mean by that?" Mr. Craig demanded rather more sharply.
-
-"I don’t mean nothin’," responded David.
-
-"Then it hasn’t anything to do with the question of success?"
-
-"That’s an awful big question," David answered adroitly, "an’ folks’ll
-get a terrible jolt in their opinions about it some day, I reckon—like
-the rich fool got; an’ he thought he was some pun’kins, too. Nobody
-can’t tell jest who’s a success," he went on, peeling the willow as he
-spoke. "I reckon folks calls me the holiest failure in these parts—but
-I’m a terrible success some ways," he went on calmly.
-
-"What ways?" Mr. Craig enquired rather too quickly for courtesy.
-
-"Oh, nothin’ much—only under the bark—if it’s anywheres," David jerked
-out, still vigorously employed on the willow. "But there ain’t no good
-of pursuin’ them kind of thoughts," he suddenly digressed, making a
-final slash at the now denuded branch; "they’re too high-class for a
-fellow that never went to school after he left it—let’s talk about
-somethin’ worldly. They say you’re goin’ to be Glenallen’s first mayor;
-goin’ to open the ball—ain’t that so?"
-
-Abating his pace, Mr. Craig drew closer to David, a pleased expression
-displacing the rather decided frown that had been gathering.
-
-"To tell the truth, now that you’ve mentioned it," he began
-confidentially, "that’s the very thing I wanted to talk about. Of
-course, there’s no use in my pretending I don’t want the office, for I
-do—the whole thing is in being the _first_ mayor, you see, after
-Glenallen’s incorporated. Kind of an historical event, you
-understand—and, and there seems to be a little misunderstanding," he
-went on a trifle hesitatingly, "between you and me. I find there’s a
-tendency to—to elect you—that is, in some quarters," he explained, "and
-I thought we might come to a kind of an agreement, you understand."
-
-"What kind?" David asked innocently.
-
-"Oh, well, you understand. Of course, I know you wouldn’t care for the
-office—not at present, at least. I’ve felt perfectly free to say as much
-whenever the matter was mentioned to me."
-
-"You’re terrible cheerful about resignin’ for other people," rejoined
-David with some spirit; "some folks is terrible handy at makin’ free
-with other folks’ affairs."
-
-"Oh, well, you know what I mean—you’ve got your hands full——"
-
-"They’re not terrible full," David corrected dismally.
-
-"And besides, you see," Mr. Craig went bravely on, "you’re not British
-born—you were born in Ohio, weren’t you?"
-
-"Not much," David informed him; "there’s no Buckeye about me—I was born
-in Abe Lincoln’s State. Peoria’s where I dawned—and he often used to
-stop at my father’s house when he was attendin’ court." David was
-evidently ready to be delivered of much further information, but the
-candidate had no mind to hear it.
-
-"Well, anyhow," he interrupted, "I think it’d be more fitting that the
-first mayor should have been born under the British flag. But you don’t
-mean to say you think you’ll stand?" he suddenly enquired, evidently
-determined to ascertain the facts without further parley.
-
-"Couldn’t jest say," David replied with rather provoking deliberation;
-"you see, I’ll have a good deal o’ time lyin’ round loose, now that I’m
-givin’ up business for my health," this with a mournful grin. "So mebbe
-I’ll be in the hands o’ my friends—that there expression’s one I made up
-myself," he added, turning a broad smile upon his friend’s very sober
-face. Mr. Craig, to tell the exact truth, grew quite pale as he heard
-the ominous words. For his heart had been sorely set on the immortality
-the first mayorship of Glenallen would confer, and he knew how doubtful
-would be the issue of a contest between David and himself.
-
-"I was thinking," he began a little excitedly, "perhaps we could make
-some arrangement that would be—would be to our mutual advantage," he
-blurted out at last; "perhaps—perhaps I could give you a little lift; I
-could hardly expect you to withdraw for nothing. And now that you’re in
-financial difficulties, so to speak, I thought perhaps a little quiet
-assistance mightn’t go amiss."
-
-But David had come to a dead standstill, his eyes flashing as they
-fastened themselves on the other’s face. "D’ye mean to say you’re
-tryin’ to bribe me?" he demanded, his voice husky.
-
-"Oh, no, Mr. Borland—oh, no, I only meant we might find common ground
-if——"
-
-"Common ground! Common scoundrelism!" David broke in vehemently; "you
-must think I’m devilish poor, Mr. Craig," his voice rising with his
-emotion, "an’ it appears to me a man has to be sunk mighty low afore he
-could propose what you’ve done. I’ve bore a heap, God knows—but no man
-never dared insult me like this afore; if that’s one o’ the things
-you’ve got to do if you’re pure British stock, then I thank the Lord I’m
-a mongrel."
-
-"Be calm, Mr. Borland," implored his friend suavely, "you don’t
-understand."
-
-"I understand all right," shouted David; "a man don’t need much breedin’
-of any kind to understand the likes o’ you—you want a man that’s lost
-all he’s got, to sell himself into the bargain," the withered cheek
-burning hot as David made his arraignment.
-
-"Now, Mr. Borland, do be reasonable—I mean nothing of the sort. I only
-wanted to give you a helping hand—of course, if you can do without it——"
-
-"Yes, thank God," and David’s voice was quite shaky, "I can do without
-it all right. I can do without your dirty money—-an’ everybody else’s
-for that matter—but I can’t do without a conscience that ain’t got no
-blot on it, an’ I can’t do without a clean name like my father left it
-to me," he went hotly on, his flushed face and swift-swallowing throat
-attesting how deeply he felt what he was saying.
-
-"Oh, come now, Borland," Mr. Craig urged, reaching out a hand towards
-his shoulder, "come off your high horse—preachin’ isn’t your strong
-point, you know."
-
-"I ain’t preachin’," David retorted vigorously. "I’m practisin’—an’
-that’s a horse of a different colour," he added, casting about to recall
-the amiability that had almost vanished.
-
-"There’s no need for any trouble between us, Borland," Mr. Craig began
-blandly; "’twouldn’t be seemly, considering all that’s liable to
-happen—if things go on as they’re likely to," he added significantly.
-"We’ll need to be on the best of terms if we’re going to be relations,
-you know."
-
-"What’s that you’re sayin’?—relations, did you say?" David was quite at
-a loss to understand, and yet a dim fear, suggested not so long before,
-passed for a moment through his mind.
-
-"Yes, relations," returned Mr. Craig, smiling amiably; "these young
-folks have a way of making people relations without consulting them—at
-least, till they’ve gone and settled it themselves. I guess you
-understand all right."
-
-A hot flush flowed over David’s cheek. "Do you—do you mean my
-Madeline?" he stammered, staring like one who did not see.
-
-"Well, maybe—but I mean my Cecil just as much. All this won’t make any
-difference to Cecil."
-
-"What won’t?" David groped, the words coming as if unguided, his
-thoughts gone on another mission.
-
-"Oh, these little difficulties of yours—all this financial tangle, I
-mean; your failure, as they call it round town. That’ll never budge
-Cecil."
-
-The men were still standing, neither thinking of direction or of
-progress. But David moved close up to the other, his eyes fixed on the
-shrewd face with relentless sternness.
-
-"It don’t need to make no difference," he said through set teeth.
-"There ain’t nothin’ to get different—if you mean your son, Craig—or if
-you mean my daughter, Craig," the words prancing out like a succession
-of mettled steeds; "either you or him’s the biggest fool God ever let
-loose. There ain’t no human power, nor no other kind, can jine them two
-together. Perhaps I’ll have to go beggin’—but I’ll take Madeline along
-with me afore she’ll ever go down the pike with any one like your Cecil,
-as you call him." David paused for breath.
-
-"She’d be mighty lucky if she got him," Cecil’s father retorted
-haughtily. "One would think you were the richest man in the county to
-hear you talk."
-
-David’s face was closer than ever. "Craig," he said, his voice low and
-taut, "there’s mebbe some that’s good enough for Madeline—I ain’t
-a-sayin’—but th’ Almighty never made no man yet that my daughter’d be
-lucky if she got. An’ I know I’m poor; an’ I know I’ve got to take to
-the tall timbers out o’ there—where she was born," the words coming with
-a little gulp as he pointed in the direction of his home, "but I’m a
-richer man, Craig, than you ever knew how to be. An’ you can go back to
-your big house, an’ I’m goin’ to hunt a little one for us—but I wouldn’t
-trade you if every pebble on your carriage drive was gold. An’ I’m
-happier’n you ever knew how to be. An’ your Cecil can’t never have our
-Madeline. An’ when it comes to budgin’, like you was talkin’ about, I
-reckon I can do my share of not budgin’, Craig—an’ you can put that in
-your pipe an’ smoke it."
-
-David started to move on; he was panting just a little. But Mr. Craig
-stopped him; and the sneer in his words was quite noticeable:
-
-"I suppose you’ll be giving her to your charity student—she’ll be head
-clerk in the Simmons’ store yet, I shouldn’t wonder."
-
-David was not difficult to detain. He stared hard for a moment before
-speaking. "Mebbe they’re poor," he said at length, "an’ mebbe his blind
-mother has to skimp an’ save—that settles any one for you all right.
-But it wouldn’t take me no longer to decide between that there charity
-student an’ your son, than it would to decide—to decide between you an’
-God," he concluded hotly, turning and starting resolutely on his way.
-"Now you know my ideas about success," he flung over his shoulder as he
-pressed on; "you’re a success, you know, a terrible success—I’m a
-failure, thank heaven," his face set steadfastly towards home, bright
-with the hallowed light that, thought of his treasure there kept burning
-through all life’s storm and darkness.
-
-But Mr. Craig fired the last shot. "I wish you luck with the coming-out
-party," he called after him mockingly; "be sure and have it worthy of
-the young lady—and of her father’s fortune," he added, the tone
-indicating what satisfaction the thrust afforded him.
-
-David answered never a word. But the taunt set him pondering,
-nevertheless; once or twice he stopped almost still, though his pace was
-brisk, and something in his face reflected the purpose forming within
-him. When he reached his home he found Madeline and her mother
-together; they were still employed with the sombre task of selecting
-what should be the survivors among their domestic treasures.
-
-"How did Mrs. Simmons take it?" Madeline asked almost impatiently, as he
-drew her down in the chair beside him.
-
-"She took it like as if she believed in God," David answered solemnly;
-"an’ she took it that way ’cause she does—that’s more," he added
-emphatically. "But I’ve got somethin’ to say—somethin’ important."
-
-Both waited eagerly to hear. "Tell me quick," said Madeline.
-
-"Well, it’s this. I don’t want nothin’ touched here—not till after what
-I’m goin’ to tell you. We’ll have to waltz out o’ here, of course," he
-said, looking gravely around the room; "but it’ll be some considerable
-time yet—an’ as long as we’re here, we’ll be here, see? An’ we’re goin’
-to have your comin’-out party, Madeline—we’re goin’ to have it the last
-night. So it’ll be a comin’-out party, an’ a goin’-out one, at the same
-time—ain’t that an elegant idea? An’ it’ll be a dandy, too—there’ll be
-high jinks till nobody can’t see anybody else for dust. An’ we’re goin’
-to have things jest like they are now—no use o’ kickin’ down your
-scaffold till you’re through with it," he concluded, chucking Madeline
-under the chin in his jubilation.
-
-Madeline and her mother gasped a little as they exchanged glances. Mrs.
-Borland was the first to speak. "Don’t you think it’ll throw a gloom
-over everything, David, when everybody’ll know what—what’s going to
-happen?"
-
-"If anybody begins that kind o’ throwin’, I’ll throw them out sideways,"
-David replied fiercely. "Most certainly it won’t. Everybody’d always
-be slingin’ gloom round, if that’d do it—’cause nobody ever knows what’s
-goin’ to happen any time. Leastways, nobody only One—an’ He ain’t never
-gloomy, for all He knows. Anyhow, nothin’ ain’t goin’ to happen—’cept
-to the furniture," he added scornfully, glancing at the doomed articles
-that stood about.
-
-"One good thing," Madeline suggested radiantly, "there’ll be nothing to
-hide—everybody’ll know they’re expected to be jolly."
-
-"Sure thing!" echoed David, utterly delighted. "I’m goin’ to have that
-on the invitations—there ain’t goin’ to be no ’Answer P.D.Q.’ on the
-left-hand corner; I’m goin’ to have somethin’ else—I’m goin’ to have
-what that cove on the tavern sheds yelled through the megaphone: ’If you
-can’t laugh don’t come.’ I often told you about him, didn’t I?—well,
-that’s the prescription’s goin’ to be on the admission tickets."
-
-Considerable further dialogue was terminated by a very serious question
-from the prospective débutante. "Won’t it look kind of strange, father?"
-she ventured rather timidly, "going to all that expense—just at this
-particular time?"
-
-David put his arms about her very tenderly, smiling down into the sober
-face. "There ain’t goin’ to be no champagne, Madeline," he said
-quietly, "nor no American beauties—there’ll jest be one of heaven’s
-choicest. It’ll be an awful simple party—an’ awful sweet. An’ music
-don’t cost nothin’; neither does love, nor friends, nor welcomes—the
-best things is the cheapest. An’ I’ll show them all one thing," he went
-on very gravely, his eyes filling as they were bended on his child, "one
-thing that ain’t expensive—but awful dear," the words faltering as they
-left his lips.
-
-
-
-
- *XXIV*
-
- _*THE VICTOR’S SPOILS*_
-
-
-"Of course you ought to go. I’ve got a kind of feeling, though I don’t
-know why, that the whole party will be spoiled if you’re not there."
-
-"Spoiled! Spoiled for whom?"
-
-"Oh, for somebody—I guess you know all right."
-
-It was Miss Farringall who was pressing her advice so vigorously; Harvey
-the beneficiary. They were seated in the little room in which they had
-first met, everything in the same perfect order, the fire still singing
-its song of unconquerable cheer, the antique desk in the corner still
-guarding its hidden secrets. The domestic Grey, the added dignity of
-years upon him, had come to regard the one-time intruder with almost the
-same affection that he lavished on his mistress in his own devoted,
-purring way. He was slumbering now on Harvey’s knee, and, could he have
-interpreted the significance of human glances, he might have seen the
-fondness with which the woman’s eyes were often turned upon the manly
-face beside her.
-
-"If I thought Miss Borland really wanted me to come," mused Harvey.
-
-"Maybe Miss Borland doesn’t care very much," his friend retorted
-quickly, "but I’m sure Madeline wants you," her eyebrows lifted
-reproachfully as she spoke.
-
-Harvey smiled in return. "Of course, it would give me a chance to see
-mother," he said reflectively; "and Jessie says she’s very poorly.
-Perhaps I really ought to go—Jessie’s quite anxious about her."
-
-"I think both reasons are good ones," Miss Farringall said after a
-little silence. "Do you know, Harvey," she went on, a shade almost of
-sadness coming over her face, "I feel more and more that there’s only
-one thing in life worth gaining—and one should never trifle with it. If
-you lose that, you lose everything—no matter how much else you may have
-of money, or luxury—even of friends," she said decisively; "even of
-friends—if you miss that other."
-
-Harvey, slightly at a loss, fumbled about for something to say. "You
-have everything that money can provide, Miss Farringall—and that’s a
-good deal," he added, magnifying the lonely asset as best he could.
-
-"Yes, perhaps I have—and maybe it is," she said as if to herself. Then
-neither spoke for a long interval. But finally Miss Farringall turned
-towards Harvey with a peculiar expression, as if she had just come to a
-decision after much inward debate.
-
-"Would you like to hear something I’ve never told any one else?" she
-said impressively—"not even to the rector. He has a second wife," she
-explained, smiling, "and they’re always dangerous."
-
-"If you wish to trust me with it," was Harvey’s answer.
-
-"Well, I will—and you’ll tell me whether I did right or not. It’s not a
-long story, and I’ll tell it as directly as I can. It’s about a man—a
-gentleman," she corrected. "No, I never loved him—doesn’t this language
-sound strange from me?" as she noticed the surprise on Harvey’s face.
-"But it was—it was different with him. He was a married man, too. And
-his wife was very rich—richer than he was. And she hated him—they lived
-in the same house, but that was all; a proud, selfish woman; so selfish,
-she was."
-
-Miss Farringall rose and moved to the window, gazing long on the leafy
-scene about her. The silence was broken suddenly by the butler’s voice,
-his approach as noiseless as ever.
-
-"Please, Miss Farringall, the rector’s here—he’s in the hall. And he
-wants to know——"
-
-"Tell him he can’t," Miss Farringall said softly, without turning her
-eyes from the window.
-
-"Yes, mum," as the impassive countenance vanished.
-
-Harvey did not speak, did not even look towards the silent figure at the
-window. He knew, and waited. Presently the woman turned and silently
-resumed her chair.
-
-"It was different with him, as I said," she slowly began again—"not that
-I ever encouraged him; it terrified me when I found it out. Well, one
-day when we were alone together, he—he forgot himself," a slight tremor
-of the gentle form and a deep flush upon the cheek betokening the
-vividness of the memory. "And I fled from him—and I vowed we should
-never meet again," the sad face lighting up with the echo of a far-off
-purpose. "And I kept the vow for years," she went on, gazing into the
-fire—for there it is that the dead years, embalmed of mystic forces, may
-be seen by sorrow-brightened eyes.
-
-Harvey waited again, silent still. And once again the strange narrative
-was resumed. "But I broke it at last," she said. "He was dying—a slow,
-painful disease. And he had everything money could give him; he had
-everything that anybody wants—except that one thing. His wife went on
-in her old, idle, fashionable way, caring nothing, of course. Well, one
-day he sent for me—it was his wife who brought the message; she knew
-nothing of what had happened, of course, and she told me of his request
-and asked me if I wouldn’t come and sit with him sometimes. And I
-went—I went often—used to read to him; many different books at first,
-mostly poetry—but as it came nearer the end it was hardly ever anything
-but the Bible.... The end came at last. And just the day before he died
-he said to me: ’It’ll be to-morrow—to-morrow about this time.’ Then he
-took a big envelope from under his pillow, and he said: ’This’ll be
-good-bye; God bless you for what you’ve been to a dying man. And I want
-you to do this. I want you to come to my grave a year from the night of
-the day I’m buried—and open this envelope there—but not for a year.’
-And we said good-bye. Well, I couldn’t refuse the request of a dying
-man—I did as he asked me. But I waited a year and four days, Harvey,"
-and Miss Farringall’s voice was quite triumphant; "I waited that long
-because I knew no man would believe a woman could do it.... And that’s
-how I’m situated as I am, Harvey. I don’t think anybody ever knew—I
-guess nobody cared; principally stocks, simply transferred. Do you
-think I did right, Harvey?" she asked after a pause.
-
-"Yes," said Harvey quickly, unable to take his eyes from her face.
-
-"Not that the envelope ever did me very much good," she went on. "I
-often think how much happier I’d have been if I’d been poor—and had had
-that other. But it wasn’t to be. And all this never made me
-happy—there was only one could have done that; and he went out of my
-life long ago—long ago now," she said, her gaze scanning his face in
-wistful scrutiny, her heart busy with the photograph entombed in the
-silent desk before her.
-
-"So I think you certainly ought to go, as I said," she resumed, quietly
-reverting to the original topic. "I know the signs," she added in
-plaintive playfulness—"even if they do call me an old maid; I shouldn’t
-wonder if they know the signs best of all. But this is all nonsense,"
-straightening herself resolutely in her chair, "and has nothing to do
-with what we’re talking about. When is the party, Harvey?"
-
-"It’s Friday night week—the very day after I graduate. And they leave
-the old home the next day—I told you all about Mr. Borland’s failure.
-It seems they’ve been prepared to leave for some months—and now it’s
-actually come. Mr. Borland gave up everything to his creditors, I
-believe. And this is a notion of his own—just like him, too—that
-they’ll celebrate the last night in their old home this way; he’s going
-to have Madeline’s coming-out party for a finish. Quite an original
-idea, isn’t it?"
-
-"Will that young fellow from your town be there?—Mr. Craig, you know?"
-asked Miss Farringall, without answering his question. She did not look
-at Harvey as she asked her own.
-
-"Oh, yes," Harvey answered, "he’ll be there, of course—he’s very
-attentive." Harvey’s eyes were also turned away.
-
-"Who’s he attentive to?"
-
-"Why, to Miss Borland—to Madeline, of course. He’s been that for a long
-time."
-
-"Are you sure?"
-
-"Yes. At least, I suppose so. Why?" Harvey asked wonderingly.
-
-"Oh, nothing much—only I heard his affections were divided; another
-Glenallen girl, I heard."
-
-"What was the name?" asked Harvey, interestedly.
-
-"I did hear, I think—it doesn’t matter. Please don’t ask me any
-more—really, I’m ashamed of myself, I’m getting to be such a silly old
-gossip. Tell me, are you going to get the medal when you graduate?"
-
-The look on the face before her showed that the conversation had turned
-his thoughts towards something more absorbing than college premiums,
-covetable though they be; he too was coming to realize that life has
-only one great prize, and but one deep source of springing joy.
-
-"I have my doubts about the medal," Harvey answered after a pause; "I’m
-afraid of Echlin—but I’ll give him a race for it. I think I’m sure of
-my degree, all right. That’s another reason inclines me to go home next
-week," he added cheerfully; "I want to give my sheepskin to my mother;
-it’s more hers and Jessie’s than it is mine—and I want them to see my
-hood, too, when I get one; and the medal," his face brightening, "if I
-should have the luck to win it. But there’s another thing that troubles
-me a little," he added with a dolorous smile, "and that is that I
-haven’t got anything to wear, as the ladies say. I haven’t a dress
-suit, you know—and I’m afraid anything else’ll be a little conspicuous
-there."
-
-Miss Farringall smiled the sweetest, saddest smile, as she turned her
-face to Harvey’s. "Oh, child," she said, "you’re very young; and you’re
-certainly very unfamiliar with the woman-heart. A girl doesn’t care a
-fig for dress suits—I think they rather admire men who dress
-originally," she went on assuringly; "I know I did, then. And besides,
-it’s all to your credit that you haven’t one—I think that’s one of the
-fine things about you, that you haven’t got so many things you might
-have had, if you’d been a little more selfish," she said, almost fondly.
-
-"Talk about not being selfish," Harvey broke in ardently; "I’m a monster
-of selfishness compared to some others I could name—you ought to see my
-mother and my sister," he concluded proudly.
-
-"I hope I may some day," she answered. "But meantime—about what you’ll
-wear. I’d wear the medal if I were you. But tell me first," she went
-on in a woman’s own persistent way, "that you’ll accept the invitation.
-Can’t you make up your mind?"
-
-Harvey was silent for a moment. "No," came his answer decisively, "I
-don’t think I will. I’m going to decline with thanks—self-denial’s good
-for a fellow sometimes."
-
-"Some kinds of self-denial are sinful," said Miss Farringall quietly;
-"but they bring their own punishment—and it lasts for years." She
-sighed, and the light upon her face was half of yearning, half of love.
-
-
-"Is our Tam hame frae Edinburgh yet?" Such were the last wandering
-words of an aged brother of the great Carlyle, dying one summer night as
-the Canadian sun shed its glory for the last time upon his face. Thrice
-twenty years had flown since, fraternal pride high surging in his heart,
-he had clung to his mother’s skirts while she waited at the bend of the
-road for the returning Tom. Carrying his shoes, lest they be needlessly
-worn, was that laddie wont to come from the halls of learning where he
-had scanned the page of knowledge with a burning heart—carrying his
-shoes, but with his laurels thick upon him, his advent the golden
-incident to that humble home in all their uneventful year. And in
-death’s magic hour the thrilling scene was reënacted as the brother
-heart of the far-wandered one roamed back to the halcyon days of
-boyhood.
-
-The same spirit of pride, the same devotion of love, brooded over the
-happy circle as Harvey sat this placid evening between his mother and
-sister in the home that had furnished him so little of luxury, so much
-of welcome and of love. He was home, and he was theirs. Trembling joy
-mingled with the mother’s voice as now and then she broke in with kindly
-speech upon the story Harvey found himself telling again and again. The
-story was of his career in general, and of the last great struggle in
-particular; how he had shut himself up to his work in a final spasm of
-devotion, pausing only to eat and sleep till the final trials were over
-and the victory won. And the great day, his graduation day, was
-described over and over, both listeners in a transport of excitement
-while he told, modestly as he might, of the ovation that had greeted him
-when he was called forward to receive his hard-won honours.
-
-"And you’re a B.A., Harvey, now—a real B.A., aren’t you, Harvey?" Jessie
-cried ecstatically. "It seems almost too good to be true."
-
-Harvey merely smiled; but his mother spoke for him. "Of course he is,"
-she answered quietly; "it’ll be on all his letters. But the medal,
-Harvey—oh, my son, I always knew you’d win it," her voice low and
-triumphant. "I can hardly just believe it; out of all those
-students—with their parents so rich and everything—that my own son
-carried it off from them all. And has it your name on it, Harvey?—with
-the degree on it too?" she enquired eagerly.
-
-"Of course," said Harvey, "it’s in my trunk—and my hood’s there too;
-they’re both there, mother. It’s a beautiful hood—and I’ll show them to
-you if you’ll wait a moment," he exclaimed impulsively, rising as he
-spoke.
-
-But his eyes met Jessie’s and a darkness like the darkness of death fell
-upon them both. Jessie was trembling from head to foot, her hand going
-up instinctively to her face as if she had been struck. Harvey’s pale
-cheek and quivering lips betrayed the agony that wrung him.
-
-"Forgive me, mother," his broken voice implored as he flung himself down
-beside her, his arms encircling her; "forgive me, my mother—I forgot,
-oh, I forgot," as he stroked the patient face with infinite gentleness,
-his hands caressing the delicate cheeks again and again.
-
-"He didn’t mean it, mother—he didn’t mean it," Jessie cried, drawing
-near to them; "he just forgot, mother—he just forgot," the words
-throbbing with love for both.
-
-But the mother’s voice was untouched by pain. "Don’t grieve like that,
-my darling," she pleaded, pressing Harvey’s hands close to her cheek; "I
-know it was nothing, my son—I know just how it happened. And why will
-you mourn so for me, my children?" she went on in calm and tender tones,
-her arms encircling both. "Surely I’ve given you no reason for
-this—haven’t I often told you how bright it is about me? And something
-makes me sure it’s getting near the light. Don’t you remember, dear,
-how the doctor said it might all come suddenly?—and I feel it’s coming,
-coming fast; I feel sure God’s leading me near the light."
-
-"Are you, mother?" Harvey asked. The question came simply, earnestly,
-almost awesomely.
-
-"Yes, dear; yes, I’m sure."
-
-"We always asked for that. Harvey and I have, every day—haven’t we,
-Harvey?" Jessie broke in eagerly.
-
-Harvey nodded, his gaze still on his mother’s face. For the light that
-sat upon it in noble calm entranced him. No words could have spoken
-more plainly of the far-off source that kindled it; and a dim, holy
-sense of the grandeur of her outlook, the loftiness of her peace, the
-eternal warrant of her claim, took possession of his soul. The beauty
-that clothed her was not of time; and no words of tender dissembling
-could conceal the exultant hope that bespoke how the days of her
-darkness should be ended.
-
-The silence was broken by his mother’s voice. "Go and get them,
-Harvey—bring your medal and your hood. Bring them to your mother, my
-son," she said, as she released him to do her bidding.
-
-He was gone but a moment; returning, he bore in one hand the golden
-token, his name inwoven with its gleam. The other held his academic
-hood, its mystic white and purple blending to attest the scholar’s
-station; he had thrown his college gown about him.
-
-Mutely standing, he placed the medal in his mother’s hands. They shook
-as they received it, the thin fingers dumbly following its inscription,
-both hands enclosing it tightly, thrilling to the glad sensation. Then
-he held the hood out towards her, stammering some poor explanation of
-its material and its meaning.
-
-"Put it on, Harvey," she said.
-
-He swiftly slipped it about his neck, the flowing folds falling down
-from his shoulders. Involuntarily he bended before his mother, and the
-poor white hands went out in loving quest of the dear-bought symbol,
-tracing its form from end to end, lingering fondly over every fold. She
-spoke no word—but the trembling fingers still roved about the glowing
-laurel as her scholar boy stood silent before her, and the hot tears
-fell thick and fast upon it. For the memory of other days, days of
-poverty and stress; and the vision of the childish face as she had last
-beheld it; and the thought of all the hidden struggle, more bitter than
-he ever knew, that had thus brought back her once unknown child in
-triumph to his mother’s home—back, too, in unchanged devotion and
-unabated love, to lay his trophies at the feet of her who bore him—all
-these started the burning tears that trickled so fast from the unseeing
-eyes and fell in holy stains upon the spotless emblem.
-
-
-Clocks are the very soul of cruelty, relentless most when loving hearts
-most wish that they would stay their hands. The ebbing moments,
-inconsiderate of all but duty, tell off the hours of our gladness, even
-of sacramental gladness, with unpitying faithfulness. And yet, strange
-as it may seem, how blessed is the law that will not let us know when
-the last precious moments are on the wing! How often do devoted hearts
-toy with them carelessly, or waste them in unthinking levity, or drug
-them with unneeded slumber, or squander them in wanton silence, as
-though they were to last forever! How the most prodigal would garner
-them, and the most frivolous employ, if it were only known that these
-are the last golden sands that glisten their parting message before they
-glide into the darkness!
-
-We may not know. As these two did not; and the last unconscious hour
-was spent in the company of another. "It’s so good of you to come and
-sit with me, Miss Adair, while the children are at the party," was Mrs.
-Simmons’ welcome to the kindly acquaintance as she entered. "Jessie’s
-going on ahead—she promised to give Madeline some little help, so she
-had to go earlier. Won’t you need to be starting soon, Harvey?"
-
-"I’m going just in a minute, mother," her son answered. "And you should
-have seen our Jessie," he digressed, turning to their visitor. "She
-never looked sweeter in her life. And the dress that she had on, she
-made it herself, she said—I didn’t know Jessie was so accomplished."
-
-"Oh, Jessie’s made many a—she’s made many an admirer, by her dresses,"
-the adroit Miss Adair concluded, noticing a quick movement of Mrs.
-Simmons in her direction, and suddenly recalling the injunction she had
-forgotten.
-
-"I’m so sorry her flowers were withered," Harvey broke in, quite
-unconscious of what had been averted. "I sent her some from the city—but
-they were so wilted when they came that I didn’t want her to take them."
-
-"Wait a minute, Harvey—I’ll go with you a step or two," his mother
-interrupted as her son stooped to bid her good-night. "Please excuse
-me, Miss Adair; I’ll be back in a minute," taking Harvey’s arm as he
-turned towards the door.
-
-"It was so thoughtful of you to send those flowers to Jessie," she said
-as they moved slowly along the silent street; "she was quite enraptured
-when they came."
-
-"I sent some to—to Madeline too," Harvey informed her hesitatingly.
-"You see, I didn’t expect, till this morning, to go to the party at
-all—and I wrote Madeline declining. So she isn’t expecting me. Jessie
-promised not to tell her I had changed my mind; and in my letter I told
-Madeline I was sending the flowers in my place—but I’m afraid they’ll be
-withered too. What’s the matter, mother?" for her whole weight seemed
-suddenly to come upon his arm.
-
-"Nothing, dear; nothing much," she said, a little pantingly. "Let us
-sit here a minute," sinking on an adjoining step. "I’ve had these off
-and on lately," she added, trying to smile. "I’m better now—the doctor
-says it’s some little affection of the heart. I guess it’s just a rush
-of happiness," she suggested bravely, smiling as she turned her face
-full on Harvey’s.
-
-"I’m so happy, my son—so proud and happy. You’ve done so well; and God
-has watched over you so wonderfully—and protected you." Then her voice
-fell almost to a whisper, faltering with the words she wanted to speak,
-yet shrank from uttering. These spoken, she listened as intently as if
-for the footfall of approaching death.
-
-"No, mother," he answered low, "no, never once since—yet I won’t say I
-haven’t felt it; I know I have, more than once. If I’m where it is—even
-if I catch the odour of liquor—the appetite seems to come back. And it
-frightened me terribly; it was like the baying of hounds," drawing
-closer as he spoke.
-
-"That’s like what your father used to say," she whispered, quivering.
-
-"But never once, mother—never a single time, since. I’ve always
-remembered that first night you came into my room—and that other time."
-
-"And I," she cried eagerly, "haven’t I? I’ve been there many a night
-since then, when Jessie was asleep—I used to try and imagine it was you,
-Harvey," she said, turning her face on his in the uncertain light.
-
-The gentle colloquy flowed on while the shadows deepened about the
-whispering pair, the one happy because youth’s radiance overshone his
-path, the other peaceful because a deeper, truer light was gathering in
-her heart. One cloud, and one alone, impaired the fullness of his joy;
-and that was, what even his hopeful heart could not deny, that his
-mother’s strength was obviously less than when he had seen her last.
-But all the devotion of the years seemed gathered up into this gracious
-hour; the mother, mysteriously impelled, seemed loath to let the
-interview be at an end, though she knew Harvey must soon be gone.
-
-"You’d better hurry now, dear," she said when their own door was
-reached; "no, no, I can go in alone all right—on with you to the party,
-Harvey; they can’t any of them be happier than I am to-night. And tell
-Madeline, for me, there’s only one chick like mine in the world—and
-whoever gets——"
-
-The remainder of the message was lost in laughing protest as the
-good-byes were said; the mother stole softly in to her patient guest,
-her son hurrying on to the gathering revelry.
-
-
-
-
- *XXV*
-
- _*WHAT MADE THE BALL SO FINE?*_
-
-
-Harvey could not forbear to indulge a glance through the flaming windows
-as he drew near the house. He noted, a little ruefully it must be said,
-that almost every gentleman guest was attired after the conventional
-fashion he had predicted; but a moment’s reasoning repelled any
-threatening embarrassment with scorn. Pressing bravely on, he had soon
-deposited his hat and coat, and after a minute or two of waiting in the
-dressing-room began his descent of the stairs to mingle with the
-animated scene.
-
-Looking down, one of the first to be descried was David Borland himself,
-as blithe and cheerful as though he were beginning, rather than
-concluding, his sojourn in the spacious house. He was chatting
-earnestly with Dr. Fletcher, interrupting the conversation now and then
-to greet some new-arriving guest. Near him was his wife, absorbed in
-the pleasant duty of receiving the steadily increasing throng who were
-to taste for the last time the hospitality for which that home had long
-been famous.
-
-But all others, and there were many whom Harvey recognized at a glance,
-were soon forgotten as his eyes rested on one whose face, suddenly
-appearing, filled all the room with light. For Madeline was making her
-way into the ample hall, flushed and radiant; her brow, never so serene
-before, was slightly moistened from the evening’s warmth, while the
-wonderful hair, still bright and sunny, glistened in the softly shaded
-light. Aglow with excitement, her cheeks seemed to boast a colour he
-had never seen before, the delicate pink and white blending as on the
-face of childhood; and the splendid eyes, crowning all, were suffused
-with feeling. The significance of the hour and the animation of the
-scene united to create a sort of chastened mirthfulness, brimming with
-dignity and hope, yet still revealing how seriously she recognized the
-vicissitude time had brought, how well she knew the import of the change
-already at the door.
-
-Harvey stood still on the landing, gazing down unobserved, his eyes
-never turning from the face whose beauty seemed to unfold before him as
-he stood. Yet not mere beauty, either—he did not think of beauty, nor
-would he have so described what charmed him with a strange thrill he had
-never owned before—but the rich expression, rather, of an inward life
-that had deepened and mellowed with the years. Great sense was there,
-for one thing—and in the last appeal this feature of womanhood is
-irresistible to a truly manly heart; and her face spoke of love, large
-and generous, as if the weary and the troubled would ever find in her a
-friend; cheerfulness, courage, hope, the dignity of purity, the
-sweetness that marks those who have been cherished but not pampered and
-indulged but not petted, all combined to provide a loveliness of
-countenance that fairly ravished his heart as he peered through
-spreading palms upon the unconscious face beneath.
-
-Yet the joy he felt was not unmingled. For he could see, as a moment
-later he did see, that other eyes were turned with equal ardour in the
-same direction as his own. Madeline’s appearance was a kind of
-triumphal entry; and there followed her, willing courtiers, two or three
-of the gallants of the place, whose function it evidently was to bear
-the glorious groups of flowers that various admirers had sent. Harvey’s
-face darkened a little as he noted that Cecil was among them; though, to
-tell the truth, his seemed the most careless gaze of all—if admiration
-marked it, it was hungry admiration and nothing more. But the flowers
-he was carrying were pure; he had asked leave to carry them—and they
-themselves could not protest, shrink as they might from the unfitting
-hand. Others, nobler spirits, had burdens of equal fragrance, all fresh
-and beautiful as became the object of their homage.
-
-Slowly Harvey moved down the stairs. The proprieties were forgotten—all
-else as well—as he passed Mr. and Mrs. Borland by, the one glancing at
-him with obvious admiration, the other with impatient questioning. He
-was standing close in front of Madeline before she knew that he was
-there at all; suddenly raising her head as she turned from speaking with
-a friend, the soulful eyes fell full on his. She did her best—but the
-tides of life are strong and willful, and this one overswept the swift
-barrier she strove to interpose, as straws are swept before a storm.
-And the flood outpoured about him, surging as it smote the passion that
-leaped to meet it, the silent tumult beating like sudden pain on heart
-and ears and eyes, its mingled agony and rapture engulfing him till
-everything seemed to swim before him as before a drunken man.
-
-What voices silent things possess! And how God speaks through dull
-inanimate creatures as by the living lips of love! And what tell-tale
-tongues have the most trivial things to peal out life’s holiest
-messages! For he saw—dimly at first and with a kind of shock, then
-clearly and with exultant certainty—he saw what was in her hand. It was
-only a bunch of simple flowers; but they were sorry looking things
-compared to their rivals whose fragrance filled the air, and the languor
-of death was upon them—yes, thank God, their bloom was faded, their
-freshness gone. For he recognized them, he knew them; and in the swift
-foment of his mind he even saw again the hard commercial face of the man
-from whom he had bought them, again the hard spared coins he had
-extracted from the poor total his poverty had left him, his heart the
-while leaping within him as though it could stand imprisonment no more.
-Dimly, vaguely, he saw behind her the noble clusters that other hands
-had sent—but other hands than hers were bearing them—and his were in her
-own, in the one that was bared in careless beauty as her glove hung
-indifferent from the wrist, unconscious of all that had displaced it.
-Careless observers had doubtless noted the dying flowers, marvelled
-mayhap; they knew not how instinct they were with life, how fadeless
-against the years their memory was to sweeten and enrich.
-
-He stood silent a moment with his hand half-outstretched, his eyes
-divided between the flowers beneath and the face above. His soul
-outpoured itself through them in a riot of joy he had neither desire nor
-power to restrain. Madeline stood like some lovely thing at bay, her
-eyes aglow, their message half of high reproach and half of passionate
-welcome.
-
-"You told me you weren’t coming," she said in protesting tones, the
-words audible to no one but himself; "and I didn’t expect you," her lips
-parted, her breath coming fast and fitfully, as though she were
-exhausted in the chase. Her radiant face was glorified—she knew it
-not—by the rich tides of life that leaped and bounded there, disporting
-themselves in the hour they had awaited long. Yet her whole attitude
-was marked by a strange aloofness, the wild air of liberty that is
-assumed by captive things; and her voice was almost controlled again as
-she repeated her remark.
-
-"You said you weren’t coming;" the words voiced an interrogative.
-
-"So I did," he acknowledged, his eyes roaming about her face; "but I
-came," he added absently, a heavenly stupidity possessing him.
-
-"How’s your mother?" she asked, struggling back.
-
-"She’s not at all well," he answered, the tone full of real meaning; for
-this was a realm as sacred to him as the other.
-
-She was trying to replace her glove, the latter stubbornly resisting.
-
-"Please button this for me," as she held out her arm. He tried eagerly
-enough; but his hand trembled like an aspen. Her own was equally
-unsteady, and progress was divinely slow. He paused, looking helplessly
-up into her face; her hand fell by her side. Before either knew that he
-was near, Cecil’s voice broke in: "Allow me, Madeline," he said; "I’m an
-old hand at operations like this—I’ll do it for you, Madeline," as
-though he gloried in the name, and almost before she knew it he had
-seized her arm, swiftly accomplishing his purpose.
-
-Madeline was regal now, her very pose marked by unconscious pride.
-"Thank you," she said, still sweetly, "but I don’t believe I want it
-fastened now—it’s quite warm here, isn’t it?" and with a quick gesture
-she slipped it from her hand, moving forward towards her father. Harvey
-stood still where he was; but the new heaven and the new earth had come.
-
-The evening wore on; nor could any gathering have been enriched with
-more of feeling than pervaded the triumphant hours. All seemed to
-forget the occasion that had convened them, remembering nothing but the
-valued friends who were still to be their own, even if outward
-circumstances were about to undergo the change so defiantly
-acknowledged. The crowning feature came when the simple supper was
-finished and the table partially cleared; for they who would remember
-David Borland at his best must think of him as he appeared when he
-called the guests to order and bade them fill their glasses high.
-
-"Take your choice of lemonade or ginger ale," he cried with a voice like
-a heightening breeze; and they who knew him well silently predicted the
-best of David’s soul for the assembled guests that night. "There ain’t
-nothin’ stronger," he went on with serious mien; "drinks is always soft
-when times is hard—but drink hearty, friends, an’ give the old house a
-good name."
-
-Possibly there was the slightest symptom of a tremor in his voice as it
-referred thus to what he held so dear, now about to be surrendered; but
-a moment later the old indomitable light was kindled in his eye, the
-strong face beaming with the unquenched humour that had been such a
-fountain in his own life and the lives of others. Something of new
-dignity was noticeable in his entire bearing, the bearing of a man who,
-if beaten, had been beaten in honourable battle, resolved still to
-retain all that was dearest to his heart; this explained the look of
-pride with which he marked, as he could hardly fail to mark, the
-affection and respect with which every eye regarded him as he stood
-before his friends.
-
-The toast to the King, and one other, had been disposed of, David
-proceeding merrily to launch another, when suddenly he was interrupted
-by Geordie Nickle, who rose from his place at the further end of the
-table.
-
-"Sit doon, David," he enjoined, nodding vehemently towards his friend,
-"an’ gie an auld man a chance. Ladies an’ gentlemen," he went on,
-directing his remarks to the company, "I’ll ask ye to fill yir glasses
-wi’ guid cauld water for to drink the toast I’ll gie ye—naethin’ll fit
-the man I’m gaein’ to mention as weel as that; there’s nae mixture aboot
-him, as ye ken. I’m wantin’ all o’ ye to drink a cup o’ kindness to the
-man we love mair when he’s puir nor we ever did afore. Here’s to yin o’
-th’ Almichty’s masterpieces, David Borland—an’ may He leave him amang us
-till He taks him till Himsel’."
-
-Geordie paused, his glass high in air. And the fervid guests arose to
-drink that toast as surely toast had never been drunk before. With a
-bumper and with three times three, and calling David’s name aloud after
-a fashion that showed it had the years behind it, and with outgoing
-glances that spoke louder than words, every face searching his own in
-trust and sympathy and love, they did honour to the host who should
-entertain them there no more.
-
-It was almost too much for David. He arose when his guests had resumed
-their seats, and stood long looking down without a word. But he began
-at last, timidly, hesitatingly, emotion and language gradually making
-their way together as his eyes were slowly lifted to rest upon the faces
-of his friends. He referred frankly to the occasion that had brought
-them together, thus to bid farewell to the scene of many happy
-gatherings. "Folks say I’m beaten," he went on, "but that ain’t true.
-I’m not beaten. I’ve lost a little—but I’ve saved more," as he looked
-affectionately around. "I’m not really much poorer than I was. I never
-cared a terrible lot about money; ’twas the game more. Just like boys
-with marbles; they don’t eat ’em, they don’t drink ’em—but they like to
-win ’em."
-
-Then he referred to the justice of the power that disturbs the security
-of human comfort, though he employed no such terms as those. "A
-fellow’s got to take the lean with the fat," he said resignedly; "hasn’t
-got no right to expect the clock’ll strike twelve every time. A miller
-that sets his wheel by the spring freshet, he’d be a fool," he announced
-candidly, knowing no term more accurate, "’cause it’s bound to drop some
-time. Of course, it comes tougher to _get_ poor than to _be_ poor; it’s
-worse to be impoverished than jest to be poor, as our friend Harvey here
-would say; he’s a scholar, you know, and a B.A. at that," he added,
-turning his eyes with the others towards Harvey’s conscious face.
-
-"A stoot heart tae a steep brae, David!" broke in Geordie’s voice as he
-leaned forward, his admiring gaze fixed on his friend.
-
-"Them’s my sentiments," assented David, smiling back at the dauntless
-Scotchman. "I mind a woman out in Illinois—she was terrible rich, and
-she got terrible poor all of a sudden. Well, she had to wash her own
-dishes, after the winds descended an’ the floods blew and beat upon her
-house, as the Scriptur’ says—an’ she jest put on every diamond ring she
-had to her name an’ went at it. That’s Mr. Nickle’s meanin’, my
-friends, I take it—an’ that’s jest what I’m goin’ to do myself. I don’t
-know exactly what I’m agoin’ to go at," he went on thoughtfully; "I’ve
-got a kind of an offer to be a kind of advisin’ floor-walker for the
-line I’ve been at—an’ maybe I’ll take it an’ keep my hand in a bit.
-We’re goin’ to live in a little cottage—an’ there’ll always be heaps o’
-room for you all. An’ we’re goin’ to manage all right," he went on, his
-eye lighting at what was to follow; "I’ve got an arrangement made with
-Madeline here. We won’t have a terrible lot of help round the house; so
-she’s goin’ to attend to the furnace in the winter—an’ I’m goin’ to look
-after it in the summer. So we’ll get along all right, all right. An’
-now, friends," he continued seriously, "I must hump it to a close, as
-the preachers say. But there’s one thing—don’t believe all Mr. Nickle
-tells you about me; I ain’t near as good as he says. These Scotchmen’s
-terrible on epitaphs when they once get started. An’ he’s like all the
-rest o’ them—when he likes a man he swallows him whole. But I want to
-thank you all for helpin’ us to make the last night so jolly. I don’t
-find it hard myself, for I’m as certain as I ever was of anythin’ it’s
-all for the best. I want you to give that hymn out again next Sunday,
-doctor," and David’s face had no trace of merriment as he turned to look
-for his pastor by his side; "oh, I forgot the doctor goes home early—but
-I’ll ask him anyhow, an’ we’ll sing it louder’n we ever did before.
-It’s been runnin’ in my mind an awful lot lately: ’With mercy an’ with
-judgment’—you can’t beat them words much; it’s the old comfortin’
-thought about Who’s weavin’ the web. So now I jest want to thank
-everybody here for comin’—we’ve had good happy years together, an’
-there’s more to follow yet, please God," he predicted reverently as he
-resumed his seat, the deep silence that reigned about him being more
-impressive than the most boisterous applause.
-
-The pause which followed was broken by a suggestion, low and muffled at
-first, gradually finding louder voice and at last openly endorsed by
-Geordie Nickle, that "auld lang syne" would be a fitting sequel to what
-had gone before. David hailed the proposal with delight.
-
-"We’ll sing it now," he said enthusiastically, "an’ we’ll have the old
-doxology right after—they’re both sacred songs, to my way o’ thinkin’,"
-as he beckoned to Geordie to take his place beside him, the company
-rising to voice the love-bright classic.
-
-But just as cordial hands were outgoing to loyal hands outstretched to
-meet them, the door-bell broke in with sudden clamour, and some one on
-the outer edge of the circle called aloud the name of Harvey Simmons.
-There was something ominous in the tone, and one at least detected the
-paleness of Harvey’s cheek as he hurried towards the door. A moment
-sufficed the breathless messenger to communicate what he had to tell,
-and in an instant Harvey had turned swiftly towards the wondering
-company. He spoke no word, offered no explanation, but his eye fell on
-Jessie’s in silent intimation of what she already seemed to fear.
-Noiselessly she slipped from the now voiceless circle, joining her
-brother as they both passed swiftly out into the night.
-
-
-
-
- *XXVI*
-
- *"*_*THE FAIR SWEET MORN AWAKES*_*"*
-
-
-Darkness was about them, dense and silent; nor were the shadows that
-wrapped their hearts less formidable. For something seemed to tell
-Harvey that one of life’s great hours was approaching, like to which
-there is none other to be confronted by a lad’s loving soul.
-Involuntarily, almost unconsciously, his hand went out in the darkness
-in search of his sister’s; warm but trembling, it stole into his own.
-And thus, as in the far-off days of childhood, they went on through the
-dark together, the slight and timid one clinging to the strong and
-fearless form beside her. But now both hearts were chilled with
-fear—not of uncanny shadows, or grotesque shapes by the wayside, or
-nameless perils, as had been the case in other days—but of that
-mysterious foe, one they had never faced before, ever recognized as an
-enemy to be some day reckoned with, but now knocking at the gate. Yet,
-awful though they knew this enemy to be, their feet scarce seemed to
-touch the ground, so swiftly did they hurry on to meet him, counting
-every moment lost that held them back from the parting struggle. Hand
-in hand they pressed forward, these children of the shadows.
-
-"Did they say she was dying, Harvey?" Jessie asked in an awesome voice,
-little more than a whisper.
-
-"That’s what they thought," he answered, his hand tightening on hers;
-"she thought so herself."
-
-The girl tried in vain to check the cry that broke from her lips.
-"Don’t, sister, don’t," he pleaded, his own voice in ruins; "maybe she
-won’t leave us yet—but if she does, if she does, she’ll see—she’ll see
-again, Jessie." The emotion that throbbed in the great prediction
-showed how a mother’s blindness can lay its hand on children’s hearts
-through long and clouded years.
-
-"But she won’t see us, Harvey, she won’t see us before she goes. Oh,
-Harvey, I’ve longed so much for that, just that mother might see us—even
-if it was only once—before she dies. And, you know, the doctor said if
-it came it would come suddenly; and I’ve always thought every morning
-that perhaps it might come that day. And now," the sobbing voice went
-on, "now—if she goes away—she won’t have seen us at all. And we always
-prayed, Harvey; we prayed always for that," she added,
-half-rebelliously. Her brother answered never a word. Instead, he took
-a firmer grasp upon his sister’s hand and strode resolutely on. By this
-time his head was lifted high and his eye was kindled with a strange and
-burning glow, his heart leaping like a frightened thing the while; for
-he could descry the light of their cottage home. Tiny and
-insignificant, that home stood wrapped in darkness save for that one
-sombre beacon-light—but the flickering gleam that rose and fell seemed
-to call him to the most majestic of all earthly scenes, such scenes as
-lend to hovel or to palace the same unearthly splendour.
-
-"Will she know us, do you think?" Jessie whispered as they pushed open
-the unlocked door and went on into the dimly lighted house. Harvey did
-not seem to hear, so bent was he on the solemn quest, ascending the
-stair swiftly but silently, his sister’s hand still tight within his
-own. As they came near the top they could just catch, through the
-half-open door, the outline of their mother’s face, the stamp of death
-unmistakably upon it; she lay white and still upon her pillow, two forms
-bending above her, one of which they recognized at once as the doctor’s.
-Whereat suddenly, as if unable to go farther, Harvey stopped and stood
-still; Jessie did likewise, turning with low sobs and flinging herself
-into her brother’s arms, her face hidden while he held her close,
-silently endeavouring to comfort the stricken heart.
-
-"Don’t, Jessie," he whispered gently. "Let us make it easier for her if
-we can—and let us think of all it means to her—all it’ll bring back
-again. Come," the last word spoken with subdued passion, courage and
-anguish blending. They went in together, slowly, each seeming to wait
-for the other to lead the way. Their look, their movements, their
-manner of walk, the very way they leaned forward to peer with eager,
-awe-inspired eyes upon their mother’s face—all spoke of childhood;
-everything reverted in this great hour to the sweet simplicity of that
-period of life that had bound them to their mother in sacred
-helplessness. The primal passion flowed anew. And the two who crossed
-the floor together, tip-toeing towards the bed whereon their only
-earthly treasure lay, were now no more a laurel-laden man and a maiden
-woman-grown, waging the stern warfare life had thrust upon them; but
-they were simply boy and girl again, hand linked in hand as in the far
-departed days when two stained and tiny palms had so often lain one
-within the other—boy and girl, their hearts wrung with that strange
-grief that would be powerless against us all, could we but remain
-grown-up men and women. For the kingdom of sorrow resembles the kingdom
-of heaven, in this, at least, that we enter farthest in when we become
-like little children; and an all-wise Father has saved many a man from
-incurable maturity by the rejuvenating touch of sorrow, by the
-youth-renewing ministry of tears.
-
-"Look, oh, Harvey, look," Jessie suddenly whispered in strange, excited
-tones. Subdued though her voice was, a kind of storm swept through it.
-Harvey started, looked afresh—and saw; and instinctively, almost
-convulsively, he turned and clutched Jessie tightly by the arm. She too
-was clinging to him in a very spasm of trembling.
-
-"She sees us," came Jessie’s awesome tidings, her face half-hidden on
-her brother’s shoulder.
-
-"She sees us," he echoed absently, his face turning again towards the
-bed, his eyes resuming the wondrous quest.
-
-He gazed, unspeaking, as one might gaze who sees within the veil. All
-else was forgotten, even great Death—so jealous of all rivals—whose
-presence had filled the room a moment or two agone. And the silent
-years beyond—ah me! the aching silence after a mother’s voice is
-hushed—were unthought of now. And the grim and boding shade of
-orphanhood, deepening from twilight into dark, was unavailing against
-the new-born light that flooded all his soul with joy.
-
-For he saw—and the bitter memories of bygone years fled before the
-vision as the night retreats before the dawn—he saw a smile upon his
-mother’s face, the smile he had not seen for years; unforgotten, for it
-had mingled with his dreams—but it had vanished from her eyes when those
-eyes had looked their last upon her children’s faces. Yes, it was in
-her eyes—brightness he had often seen before on cheek and lip, merriment
-even—but this was the heart’s loving laughter breaking through the
-soul’s clear window as it had been wont to do before that window had
-been veiled in gloom.
-
-He remembered afterwards, what he did not then remark, that the doctor,
-observing his rapt expression, came close with some whispered
-explanation—some discourse on the relaxation of the optic nerve as a
-result of physical collapse—something of that sort, and much more, did
-the good man stammer forth to eke out this miracle of God. But Harvey
-heard him not—nor saw him even—for the love-light in his mother’s eyes
-called him with imperious voice, and almost roughly did he snatch
-himself from Jessie’s grasp as he pressed forward with outstretched
-hands. He moved around the foot of the bed, his hands still extended;
-and as he did so he noticed, with wild surging joy, that the devouring
-eyes followed him as he went. The sensation, new, elemental,
-overpowering, almost overcame him; something of the sense of
-repossession of a long absent soul, or the kindling of a long
-extinguished fire, or the cessation of a long tormenting pain, laid hold
-upon his heart. As he drew near and bent low above the bed, his
-mother’s face was almost as a holy thing, so transfigured was it with
-its glow of love. The rapture in her eyes was such as conquerors
-know—for it was the moment of her triumph after the long battle with the
-years. And her lips moved as if they longed to chant the victor’s song;
-yet they were muffled soon—for the hands she laid upon the bended
-shoulders of her boy were hungry hands, and that strange strength so
-often vouchsafed the dying was loaned her as she drew the manly form,
-all quivering and broken now, close to her throbbing bosom. A moment
-only—for the yearning eyes would not be long denied—till she gently
-released the hidden face, holding him forth before her while the long
-thirsting orbs drank deep of holy gladness.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," she murmured low, "Harvey, my son—my little son."
-
-"Mother—my mother," he answered back, as his hand stroked the pallid
-cheek; for the new vision was as wonderful to him as her returning
-vision could be to her. "Oh, mother, don’t—don’t leave us now, dear
-mother," he sobbed in pleading, the child-note breaking through his
-voice again, "now, when we’ll all be so happy, mother."
-
-She smiled and shook her head faintly; his plea seemed to find but faint
-lodgment in her mind. For she was otherwise employed; she gazed, as
-though she could never gaze enough, upon the loving, pleading face
-before her; she was searching for all that would reveal the soul
-behind—all that might speak of purity, and temperance, and victory; she
-was gathering traces of the years, the long curtained years through
-which his unfolding soul had been hidden from her sight. And her eyes
-wandered from his face only long enough to lift themselves to heaven in
-mute thanksgiving to that God whose truth and faithfulness are the
-strength and refuge of a mother’s heart.
-
-Suddenly she turned restlessly upon her pillow, her gaze outgoing beyond
-Harvey’s now bended head.
-
-"Oh, Jessie," she said with returning rapture, "oh, Jessie—my wee
-Jessie—my little daughter; oh, my darling," as she drew the awe-stricken
-face down beside her brother’s. There they nestled close, there as in
-blessed and unforgotten days, all the fragrance of the sorrow-riven
-past, all the portent of the love-lorn future mingling in baptism upon
-their almost orphaned heads.
-
-The thin white fingers toyed with the girl’s lovely hair; "it’s so much
-darker," she half whispered as if to herself, "but it’s beautiful; your
-face, Jessie; let me see your face," she faltered, as the maiden turned
-her swimming eyes anew upon her mother. "Thank God," she murmured, "oh,
-let me say it while I can—He’s been so good to me. He’s kept us
-all—all—so graciously; and He’s—always—found the path. It was
-never—really—dark; and now He’s made it light at eventide," she half
-cried with a sudden gust of strength and gladness. "And I know—I’ve
-seen—before I go; it’ll make heaven beautiful," and she sank back, faint
-and exhausted, on her pillow.
-
-The devoted doctor and the faithful friend had both slipped noiselessly
-from the room. They knew that love’s last Sacrament was being thus
-dispensed, the precious wine to be untasted more till these three should
-drink it new in the kingdom of God. But now Miss Adair, her love
-impelling her, ventured timidly back; she came gently over, so gently
-that she was unnoticed by the bending children, taking her place beside
-Harvey. She touched him on the shoulder; his eyes gave but a fleeting
-spark of recognition as they fell on what she held in her hand.
-
-"I thought she’d like to see them," said the kindly woman; "she couldn’t
-before, you know," and as she spoke she bended above the bed, a look of
-expectation on her face as she held Harvey’s hood, and his medal, before
-the new-illumined eyes. The lamp’s dim light fell athwart them and they
-gleamed an instant as if in conscious pride.
-
-The dying woman saw them; her eyes rested a moment on them both, and the
-kindly purposed neighbour made as if to put them in her hands. But the
-purpose died before she moved—for the mother’s glance showed her that
-these things were to her now but as the dust. The time was short; the
-night was coming fast; the dying eyes, so strangely lightened for this
-parting joy, were consecrated to one purpose and to that alone—and the
-gleaming gold and the flashing fabric lay unnoticed on the bed, the
-mother’s face still turned upon her children’s in yearning eagerness, as
-though she must prepare against the years that would hide them from her
-sight till the endless day should give them back to her undimmed gaze
-forever.
-
-Few were the words that were spoken now. The stream of peace flowed
-silently; and the reunited three held their high carnival of love—and of
-strange sorrow-clouded joy—the long tragedy of their united lives
-breaking at last into the blessedness of resignation, resignation aglow
-with hope. For this pledge of God’s faithfulness was hailed by every
-heart; and they felt, though no lip voiced the great assurance, that
-life’s long shadows would at last be lost in love’s unclouded day.
-
-Into a gentle, untroubled slumber their mother fell at length. When she
-awaked, her eyes leaped anew, fastening themselves upon her children as
-though the precious gift had been bestowed afresh.
-
-"I had a lovely—dream," she faltered. "I saw you—both—little
-children—like you used to be. And I thought your father—was—there too.
-It was heaven," she went on, her face brightening with a far-off light;
-"I thought he was there—and all the—the struggle—was past and gone. You
-asked—me—once, dear—if he was there," her sweet smile turned on Harvey.
-"Not yet, dear—not yet—but——" She motioned him to bend down beside her.
-"Your father’s living," she whispered low, her shining eyes fixed on
-his. Jessie retreated, not knowing why, but the wonderful light told
-her that it was a great moment between mother and son. "He’s living,"
-the awed voice whispered again—"but he’s afraid. He’ll come back—some
-day—Harvey. And you—you—must forgive him. He’ll tell you. And love
-him; tell him—I’m—waiting there. You must love him—and forgive him—and
-bring him——" Then she stopped, breathless.
-
-The wonderful tidings seemed at first almost more than the son could
-bear. With face suffused and eyes aglow, he gazed upon his mother.
-Suddenly his lips began to move; he spoke like one who has descried
-something wonderful, and far away.
-
-"Yes, mother," he whispered low, "yes, I’ll love him—I love him now;
-I’ll love him—like you love him. And I’ll bring him, mother, when he
-comes back; I’ll bring him—we’ll come together. I’ll tell him what you
-said," he cried, forgetful who might hear, "and then he’ll come—I know
-he’ll come," his face radiant with the thought.
-
-"And Jessie," the mother murmured, "Jessie too."
-
-"Yes, Jessie too," he answered; "come, Jessie—come," as he beckoned to
-her; she moved gently over and kneeled with him beside the bed.
-
-The day had broken. And the glowing heralds of the approaching sun were
-making beautiful the path before him. Hill and dale, their shining
-outlines visible in the distance, were clothed in golden glory; the opal
-clouds announced the coming of their king; the fragrant trees, and the
-bursting buds, and the spreading blossoms, and the kindling sward, and
-the verdure-covered fields gave back the far-flung smile of light. Like
-a bride adorned for her husband, all stood in unconscious beauty as far
-as eye could reach.
-
-"Look, mother, look," Harvey cried suddenly, gently lifting the dear
-head from the pillow as the sanctity of the scene impelled him. "Oh,
-mother, you can see them all," rapture and sorrow mingling in the tone.
-
-The far-seeing eyes turned slowly towards the window, rested one brief,
-wonderful moment upon the wonderful sight, then turned away in ineffable
-tenderness and longing, fastening themselves again where they had been
-fixed before. For love is a mighty tyrant and the proudest kings must
-take their place as vassals in his train.
-
-An instant later the dying eyes seemed to leap far beyond, beautiful
-with rapture. "Look, look," she cried as though the others were the
-blind, "look, oh look," her voice ringing clear with the last energy of
-death; "it’s lovelier yonder—where it’s always spring. Don’t you see,
-Harvey? Jessie, don’t you see? And baby’s there, Jessie—Harvey, the
-baby’s there—and she’s beckoning; look, look, it’s you—not me—she’s
-calling. Let us all go," she said, the voice dropping to faintness
-again, the eyes turning again upon her children; "let us—all—go; it’s
-so—lovely; and we’re—all—so tired," as the dear lips became forever
-still.
-
-And the rejoicing sun came on, the riot of his joy untempered, no badge
-of mourning in his hand. And he greeted the motherless with unwonted
-gladness as he filled the little room with light, kissing the silent
-face as though he would wish it all joy of the well-won rest. For he
-knew, he knew the secret of it all. He knew Who had transfigured hill
-and dale and tree and flower with the glance of love; he knew the source
-of all life’s light and shade; he knew the afterward of God; he knew
-Death’s other, sweeter name.
-
-But the motherless made no response. Still they knelt, one on each side
-of the unanswering form; and still, tightly clasped, each held a wasted
-hand.
-
-
-
-
- *XXVII*
-
- _*A BROTHER’S MASTERY*_
-
-
-It was the following night, the last night of all. Harvey lay with wide
-staring eyes that sought in vain to pierce the darkness; he felt it were
-almost a sacrilege to sleep, even could he have done so, since there
-would lie never more beneath the long familiar roof the beloved form
-that he had never known absent for a single night. He suddenly realized
-this—and it leaped like fire in his brain—that he had never spent a
-night in this, the only home he had ever known, without the dear
-presence that must to-morrow be withdrawn. He recalled the comfort and
-the courage this had given him in many a trembling hour when the
-nameless fears of childhood gathered with the night; how sometimes,
-tormented by grotesque shapes and grotesquer fancies, his terror had
-vanished like a dream when he had heard her cough, or sigh, or break
-into the gentle tones he had early learned were between her soul and
-God. He recalled, too, that often, startled by some unreasoning fear,
-he would call out loudly in the night; and in a moment the gentle form
-would be beside his bed, her hand upon him as she caressed him with a
-word, which word became the lullaby upon whose liquid wave he was borne
-back to dreamland.
-
-All this could never be again, he mused in bitter loneliness. As he
-dwelt upon it the thought became almost intolerable; and suddenly
-rising—for he had not yet undressed—he began noiselessly to descend the
-stairs, purposing to go out into the night; for there is healing in the
-cool cisterns of the midnight air. But he noticed, to his surprise, a
-light stealing from beneath Jessie’s door; instinctively he turned and
-knocked, his lonely heart glad of the sympathy he would not seek there
-in vain.
-
-She bade him enter; obeying, he stood amazed as he beheld how his sister
-was employed. For Jessie was full dressed; it was after three o’clock,
-but she had made no preparations for retiring. Instead, she was seated
-on the bed, the room bestrewed with materials for the toil that was
-engrossing her. Cloth, of various kinds and in various shapes,
-separated fragments yet to be adjusted, were scattered about; scissors
-and spools and tape measures lay upon the bed on which the stooping form
-was seated. And Jessie herself, a lamp whose oil was almost exhausted
-stationed high above her, was sewing away as if for life itself; worn
-and weary, her fingers chafed and sore, a burning flush on either cheek,
-the tired shoulders stooped and bent, she was pressing on with her
-humble toil.
-
-He uttered a quick exclamation of surprise, almost of reproach, as his
-eyes fell on the pitiful face and noticed the signs of drudgery about
-her. His first thought, as soon as he could collect himself, was that
-his sister was preparing the habiliments of mourning which her
-orphanhood would now demand. But sad and striking contrast, the fabric
-over which the fragile form was bent was of a far different kind. The
-material was of the richest and gayest sort, while yoke of rarest
-embroidery, and costly lace, and rich brocade, spoke of wealth and
-fashion far beyond their station.
-
-Jessie started as if detected in some guiltful work; she even made one
-swift attempt to hide the handiwork that lay glistening across her knee.
-
-Harvey closed the door; and there was more of sternness in his voice
-than she had ever heard before. "Jessie," he said gravely, "our mother’s
-lying dead downstairs."
-
-Alas! the poor girl knew it well. And her only answer was a quick and
-copious gush of tears. It was pitiful to see her snatch the delicate
-creation and toss it quickly from her, lest her grief should stain it;
-then she rocked gently to and fro in a gust of sorrow.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," she sobbed, "you didn’t mean that, brother. I know you
-didn’t mean it."
-
-He was still in the dark. But the anguish of this dear heart, so loyal
-to him through the years, was more than he could stand. With one quick
-stride he took his place beside her on the bed, his arm encircling her
-with infinite tenderness.
-
-"Don’t, sister," he said, "don’t cry like that; I didn’t mean it,
-dear—only I didn’t understand—I can’t understand."
-
-She offered no explanation, sobbing gently a few minutes in his arms.
-
-"I couldn’t understand, Jessie," he said again a little later.
-
-"I couldn’t help it," she said at last without raising her head. "I
-didn’t want to sew, with mother lying dead—but I couldn’t help it. I
-really couldn’t. It’s not for me," she flung out at last, the long
-hidden secret surrendered after all. "It’s not for me—and I had to get
-it done. They insisted so—and I couldn’t afford to lose them—it’s for a
-party."
-
-The blood left Harvey’s face, then surged hotly back to it again. His
-arms fell from about her and he sat like one in a trance. His eyes
-roved dumbly about the room, falling here and there upon many a thing,
-unnoticed in the first survey, that confirmed the assurance which now
-chilled him to the heart. Then his eyes turned to his sister’s face. It
-was averted, downcast—but he could see, what he had but casually
-remarked before, how the hand of toil had left its mark upon it. Sweet
-and tender and unselfish, courage and resolution in every line, he could
-now read the whole sad story of what lay behind. The worn fingers were
-interlocked upon her lap, and he could see how near the blood was to the
-very fingertips. And as he reflected, almost madly, upon the desperate
-necessity that had held her to her work under the very shadow of death,
-and driven her to it though with a broken heart; as he recalled the
-mysterious sources of support that had never failed him till his college
-course was done, a flood of sacred light broke upon it all—and the dear
-form before him, tired and wasted as it was, was gently drawn to his
-bosom with hands of reverent love, his murmuring lips pressed lightly to
-the burning cheeks in penitent devotion.
-
-"Forgive me, sister," he pleaded in a faltering voice, "oh, forgive me;
-for I did not know—I did not know."
-
-Her answer was never spoken; but it came.
-
-It was not long till he had learned, and from her own reluctant lips,
-all the story of the toil and drudgery that had been thus so suddenly
-revealed. But, protest as he might, Jessie was resolved to press on with
-the work she had been engaged in.
-
-"I’m just as well able to work as you are, Harvey," she said earnestly.
-"I certainly will not give up the store."
-
-"But I’m sure of a position on the newspaper I was telling you about,
-Jessie," Harvey urged—"and I can at least help; I can always spare a
-little," he assured her confidently, "and there’s one thing you must do
-before very long," he went on eagerly; "you’ve really got to come and
-stay a while with Miss Farringall. She practically made me promise for
-you. Couldn’t somebody mind the store while you’re away?"
-
-"I suppose so," Jessie relented enough to say; "Miss Adair could manage
-it well enough, of course. And I’d love to have a long visit with you,
-brother," she added fondly. "We’re all alone in the world now, Harvey,"
-her voice trembling as the tired eyes filled to overflowing—"we haven’t
-anybody else but each other now."
-
-Harvey looked her full in the face. "There’s another," he said in a
-whisper after a long silence.
-
-Jessie started violently; then her demand for more light came swift and
-urgent.
-
-As gently as he could, he broke to her the wonderful news. The girl was
-trembling from head to foot.
-
-But her first thought seemed to be of her mother. "And that was it," she
-cried amid her sobs; "that was the sorrow mother carried about with her
-all the time. Oh, Harvey, I always knew there was something—I always
-felt mother had some burden she wouldn’t let us share with her—I always
-felt her heart was hungry for something she hoped she’d get before she
-died. Poor, poor mother—our dear, brave mother!"
-
-Harvey staunched the tide of grief as best he could. Their talk turned,
-and naturally enough, to the hope of their father’s return some day,
-both promising the fulfillment of their mother’s dying wish.
-
-"We’ll do just as mother would have done," the girl said in sweet
-simplicity; "and we’ll wait together, Harvey—we’ll watch and wait
-together."
-
-"And you’ll help me, won’t you, sister?" Harvey asked suddenly.
-
-"What to do?" Jessie said wonderingly.
-
-"Just help me," he answered, his voice faltering. "Will you promise me
-that, Jessie; you don’t know yet all it means—just always to stick to
-me, and help me, and believe in me—till—till father comes?" he
-concluded, looking steadfastly into her wondering eyes. "Come with me,
-sister—come."
-
-The darkness was at its deepest, the lamp-light now flickered into
-gloom, as he rose and led her gently from the room. Groping
-noiselessly, they two, the only living things about the house, crept
-downward to the chamber of the dead. The door creaked with a strange
-unearthly sound as Harvey pushed it open and drew his sister in beside
-him. Onward he pressed, his arm still supporting her, till they stood
-above the silent face. It lay in the pomp of the majestic silence,
-calmly awaiting the last earthly dawn that should ever break upon it,
-awaiting that slow-approaching hour when the last movement should be
-made, the last tender rudeness which would lay it, swaying slightly,
-upon the waiting bosom of the earth—and then the eternal stillness and
-the dark.
-
-They stood long, no sound escaping them, above the noble face. Its dim
-outlines could be just discerned, calm and stately in the royal mien of
-death. They gazed long together. "I believe she’s near us," Harvey
-whispered. Then he drew her gently down till their faces met upon the
-unresponsive face of their precious dead.
-
-A moment later he led her tenderly away. She passed first through the
-door; but he turned and looked back. The first gray streak of dawn was
-stealing towards his mother’s face; and he saw, or thought he saw, a
-look of deeper peace upon it than had ever been there before. And the
-still lips spoke their benediction and breathed their love upon her
-children—all the more her own because she dwelt with God.
-
-
-
-
- *XXVIII*
-
- _*A LIGHT AT MIDNIGHT*_
-
-
-"There’s something—but I don’t know what it is. But there’s something;
-now Jessie, do sit up straight, and breathe deep—you know you promised
-me you’d breathe deep. Yes, there’s something wrong with Harvey."
-
-If Jessie was not breathing very deep she was breathing very fast. Even
-Grey felt a nameless agitation in the domestic atmosphere, looking up
-with cat-like gravity into Miss Farringall’s troubled face. He had
-noticed, doubtless, that the mercurial spectacle, had been ascending and
-descending from nose to brow and from brow to nose with significant
-rapidity. Grey did not look at Jessie—except casually. She not been
-sufficiently long in the house—and belonged to one of the oldest and
-best-bred of feline families.
-
-Still Jessie did not speak. But her hostess, dear soul, was ever equal
-to double duty. Like most maiden ladies, Miss Farringall had the
-dialogue gift abundantly developed; nor was it liable to perish through
-disuse.
-
-"Yes," she went on as cheerfully as her perplexity would allow, "he’s
-been so different lately. He comes home at such strange hours, for him.
-And sometimes he waits a long time at the door, as if he didn’t know
-whether to come in or not. Of course," she added reassuringly, "no one
-else knows but me; Barlow never hears anything, for he’s dead all
-night—he never resurrects till half-past seven," a timid smile lighting
-her face a moment. "But Harvey’s different every way; all his fun and
-merriment are gone—and he seems so depressed and discouraged, as if he
-was being beaten in some fight his life depended on. I don’t know what
-to make of it at all."
-
-Jessie’s face showed white in the gaslight; and her voice was far from
-steady. "Has this all been since—since mother died?" she asked, with
-eyes downcast and dim.
-
-"Not altogether. No, not at all. I noticed it first, a while after he
-went on the _Argus_. He was so proud about getting on the staff—he got
-hold of a life of Horace Greeley in the library, and he used to joke
-about it and say some day he’d stand there too. But it began one
-morning—the change, I mean—and he’s never been the same since. And one
-night, just before he went out, he brought me an envelope and asked me
-to keep it till he came back. I’m not very sure, but I think there was
-money in it—and it was just at the end of the month too," she added
-significantly.
-
-"Doesn’t he like newspaper life?" enquired Jessie.
-
-"Oh, yes; I think he’s crazy about it. You see, with his education and
-his gifts—he’s a born writer—there isn’t any kind of business could suit
-him better. I think he has his own times with Mr. Crothers—he’s the city
-editor, a kind of manager. He’s a strange man, blusters and swears a
-good deal, I think—but he’s got a good heart, from what I can hear."
-
-"Why don’t you have a confidential talk with Harvey?" suggested Jessie.
-"He’d tell you almost anything, I’m sure."
-
-"I’ve thought of that. But I was going to ask you the very same thing.
-Why don’t you?—you’re his sister."
-
-Jessie’s lip quivered. "I couldn’t," she said hesitatingly; "I couldn’t
-stand it. Besides, you know, I ought to go home to-morrow. Miss
-Adair’s expecting me—and she says the store always prospers better when
-I’m there myself; she’s had charge for ten days now, while I’ve been
-visiting here."
-
-Miss Farringall sighed. "I wish I could coax you out of that," she
-said. "Why will you go away so soon, Jessie? These days you’ve been
-here have been such a joy; I’m such a lonely creature," she added
-glancing out at the silent, dimly-lighted hall. "There’s hardly ever
-anybody around now but Barlow—and he’s a ghost. Of course, Dr. Wallis
-comes when I send for him—but we always quarrel. Then, of course, the
-rector comes every little while—but he’s a kind of a prayer-book with
-clothes on; he gets solemner every day. What I’m getting to hate about
-him," she went on, vehemently, "is that he has his mind made up to be
-solemn, and he’s not meant for it—red-headed men with freckles never
-are," she affirmed decisively. "But you and Harvey, you almost seem,
-Jessie—you might have been my own children, I think sometimes," a queer
-little tremor in the voice, the withered cheek flushing suddenly. But
-Jessie did not remark the strange tenderness of the glance she cast
-towards the treasure-hiding desk in the corner. "Some day I want to tell
-you——"
-
-But her voice suddenly died away in silence as both women turned their
-eyes eagerly towards the door. For they could see the approaching form
-of the subject of their conversation. And it needed but a glance to
-confirm the opinion Miss Farringall had already expressed. Harvey was
-making his way heavily up the stairs, his step slow and uncertain, his
-whole bearing significant of defeat. As he passed the door a faint
-plaintive smile played upon the face that was turned a moment on the
-familiar forms within; the face was haggard and pale, the eyes heavy and
-slightly bloodshot, the expression sad and despondent. Yet the old
-chivalrous light was there; clouded it was as if by shame and
-self-reproach, yet with native pride and honour flashing through it all
-as though the fires of a stern and unceasing conflict were glowing far
-within.
-
-Jessie started as if to greet him. But something checked her—she would
-wait till they were alone.
-
-Entering his room and pausing only to remove his boots, Harvey flung
-himself with a stifled groan upon the bed. How long he had lain there
-before interruption came, he neither knew nor cared. For the unclosed
-eyes were staring out into the darkness, his brain half-maddened with
-its activity of pain. Nearly everything that concerned his entire life
-seemed to float before him as his hot eyes ransacked the productive
-dark. Childhood days, with their deep poverty and their deeper wealth;
-the light and music of their darkened, sorrow-shaded home; the plaintive
-enterprise of their little store; the friends and playmates of those
-early days—and one friend, if playmate never; the broadened life of
-college, and all his discovery of himself, his powers, his
-possibilities, his perils; the one epoch-making night of life, its light
-above the brightness of the sun—his burning face hid itself in the
-pillow, his hands tight clenched as those half-withered flowers in
-Madeline’s hand rose before him, his hopes more faded now than they.
-Then came the holy scene that had followed fast, so wonderfully vivid
-now—for in the dark he could see his mother’s dying face with strange
-distinctness, the dear eyes open wide and filled with tender light as
-they turned upon her son, the thin hands outstretched as if to call the
-tired one to the comfort of her love.
-
-The glow of filial passion lingered but a moment on the haggard face.
-For other memories followed fast. How he had bidden farewell to Jessie,
-returning to the city with high resolve to snatch nobler gains than the
-poor laurels her secret heroism had enabled him to win—his hood and
-medal flitted for a moment through his thought, only to be cast aside as
-paltry baubles, garish trifles, with their dying sheen; how, later, he
-had secured a worthy place on the news staff of one of the leading
-dailies of the city, his heart high with hope for the career that should
-await him; how his gifts and his opportunity had conspired to confirm
-the hope.
-
-Clouds and darkness were about the remainder of his reverie. But part
-of it had to do with his hour of joy and triumph. He felt again the
-jubilance, the separate sort of thrill, that had possessed him when the
-great "scoop" had been accomplished—to use the vivid metaphor that
-journalists employ. And he recalled the annual banquet—he could see
-many of the faces through the dark—at which his own name had been called
-aloud, actually requested as he had been to propose the toast to the
-paper it was his pride to serve. Then came the brief, fatal struggle as
-the glasses were lifted high. He ground his teeth as he remembered
-Oliver—once friend and chum, now fiend and enemy; and Harvey’s thought
-of him was lurid with a kind of irrational hate—for Oliver had spurred
-and stung him to his fall with one or two quick sentences that seemed
-cogent enough at the time; the appeal had been to shame, and to what was
-due the concern that had honoured him, and to other things of that kind;
-in any case, it had all been like lashing a horse that hesitates before
-a hurdle. And he had leaped it—oh, God, he thought to himself, this cad
-against his mother! He had leaped it. And then the slumbering passion
-that had sprung anew to life within him—not passion perhaps, nor yet
-appetite either—but a kind of personal devil that had tangled its will
-all up with his own, and had seemed to laugh at his feeble struggling,
-and to exult like one who had won again an unforgotten victory, running
-riot in fiendish glee since his prowess had prevailed once more. Harvey
-held his hands to his burning brow as he recalled the pitiful resistance
-that had followed; he could feel the ever-tightening grasp again, like
-the relentless coils of the sea-monsters he had read about so often; he
-recalled how his soul had fluttered its poor protest, like some helpless
-bird, against this cruel hand that was bound to have its will with
-it—and how struggle and promise and pledge and prayer had all seemed to
-be in vain.
-
-He thought, too, but only for a moment—he could not, would not longer
-dwell upon it—of the shameful peace he had found at last; the peace of
-the vanquished; such peace as servile souls enjoy, for it can be
-purchased cheap—and the evil memory of it all surged over him like
-hissing waves. Nearly a week had followed, such a week as any mother,
-bending above the cradle of her child, might pray God to—
-
-But this was like groping in a morgue—and it must stop. He rose half
-erect from his bed, shaking himself like one who tries to clamber back
-from the slough of evil dreams. Just at this moment a knock came to the
-door; his soul leaped towards the sound—it was a human touch at least,
-thank God, and he needed some such Blucher for such a Waterloo.
-
-"Come in," he said huskily, lest reinforcement of any sort whatever
-might escape.
-
-And she came. Without a word, but her whole being fragrant of sympathy
-and love, she moved unhesitatingly towards the bed. She caught, as she
-came nearer, the fateful fumes. And she knew—the most innocent are the
-most sensitive to the breath of sin—but her heart only melted with a
-tenderer compassion, her arms outstretched in yearning, taking the
-stalwart frame into what seemed to him like the very guardianship of
-God.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," the voice thrilling with the melody of love; "oh, my
-brother."
-
-He clung closer to her, without speaking.
-
-"Tell me, Harvey—won’t you tell me?" He could feel the care-wrung bosom
-heaving.
-
-Still no word.
-
-"We’ve never had any secrets, brother—won’t you tell me, Harvey?"
-
-"You know," after a long pause.
-
-Still silence. Why did she breathe so fast?
-
-"Don’t you know, Jessie?"
-
-Silence long—"Yes, I know," she said, "and I never loved you as I love
-you now."
-
-Then the flood-gates were rolled back and the tide burst forth. Oh, the
-luxury of it; the sweetness of it—to feel, nay, to know, that there was
-one life that clung to him, trusted him, loved him, through all the
-waste and shame! And the blessed relief it gave; to tell it all,
-keeping nothing back, blaming no other—not even Oliver—breathing out the
-story of the struggle and the overthrow and the humiliation and the
-anguish. And in that hour Hope, long absent and aloof, came back and
-nestled in his heart again. On he went, the story long and intimate and
-awful, coming closer and closer by many and circuitous routes to the
-very soul of things, hovering about the Name he almost dreaded now to
-speak, yet yearned with a great longing to pronounce; his soul was
-crying out for all that was behind his mother’s name, the comfort and
-sympathy and power which he felt, dimly but unconquerably, could not be
-stifled in a distant grave.
-
-"Do you think she knows?" he asked at last, in a tone so low that even
-Jessie could scarcely hear.
-
-They could catch the sound of the wind upon the grass as they waited,
-both waited. "Yes," as she trembled closer, "yes, thank God."
-
-He started so suddenly as to frighten her. The conflict-riven face
-peered into hers through the dark.
-
-"What?" he asked sternly. "What did you say?"
-
-"I think she knows," the calm voice answered. "I’m sure God knows—and it
-makes it easier."
-
-He held her out at arm’s length, still staring at her through the gloom.
-"What?—I thought sorrows were all past and over—for her," the words
-coming as a bitter questioning.
-
-Jessie’s face, serene with such composure as only sorrow gives, was held
-close to his own. "We cannot tell," she whispered low; "that is between
-her and God—they both know."
-
-He struggled silently with the deep meaning of her words.
-
-"You see," sweet girlishness in the voice again, "you see, Harvey, they
-know what’s farther on—oh, brother, brother dear, it’ll be better yet,"
-her voice breaking now with an emotion she could control no longer; "it
-won’t always be like this, Harvey—you won’t do it any more, will you,
-brother?" sobbing as she buried her face beside his own. "We’ve had so
-much trouble, Harvey—the joy’s only been the moments, and the sorrow’s
-been the years—and we got mother safe home," the quivering voice went
-on, "and I thought we’d follow on together—and—some day—we’d find our
-father. And you won’t make it all dark again, will you, Harvey? You’ll
-fight—and I’ll fight—we’ll fight it out together, Harvey. It seems
-nothing now, what we had before—I mean, it doesn’t seem a bit hard just
-to be poor—if we can only keep each other, Harvey," and the poor
-trembling form, so long buffeted by life’s rude billows, clung to the
-only shelter left her, her soul outbreathing its passionate appeal.
-
-There was more of silence than of speech while they waited long
-together. He could feel the beating of the brave and trustful heart
-beside his own; this seemed to bring him calm and courage. In a
-mysterious way, she seemed to link his wounded life anew to all the
-sacred past, all the unstained days, all the conflict for which he had
-had strength and to spare, all the holy memories that had drifted so far
-from him now, a yawning gulf between.
-
-"Won’t you come home with me, Harvey?" she said at length.
-
-"Why?"
-
-"Well, perhaps it would help us both. I was going to ask you to come
-anyhow—for one thing, I wanted you to help Mr. Borland," she added
-quickly, glad of the fitting plea. "He’s going to run for mayor, you
-know—and I thought you’d like to do what you can."
-
-Harvey smiled. "I guess my own contest will give me enough to do," he
-said rather bitterly. "It was good of you to ask me, Jessie—but I’ll
-stay on my own battlefield," his lips tightly shut.
-
-A long silence reigned again. "Look," he cried suddenly, "it’s getting
-light."
-
-Jessie turned and looked. And the wondrous miracle crept on its mystic
-way; healing, refreshing, soothing, rich with heavenly promise and aglow
-with heavenly hope, telling its great story and bidding every benighted
-heart behold the handiwork of God, the silent metaphor was uttering
-forth the lesson of the returning day. For the new heaven and the new
-earth were appearing, fresh with unspotted beauty, recurring witnesses
-to the regenerating power of the All-sanguine One.
-
-"It’s getting light," she echoed dreamily. "Do you remember that line,
-Harvey, mother used to love so much?"
-
-"No; what line?"
-
-"It’s a hymn line," she answered softly. "’The dawn of heaven
-breaks’—I’m sure she sees this, too. Look at the clouds yonder, all gold
-and purple—it’s going to be a lovely day."
-
-"It’s going to be a new day," he said, gazing long in silence at the
-distant fount of light.
-
-
-
-
- *XXIX*
-
- _*HOW DAVID SWEPT THE FIELD*_
-
-
-"Go and wash your hands, Madeline, before you fix your father’s tie. I
-little thought my daughter would ever come to this—filling those
-wretched kerosene lamps; it’s bad enough to have to come down to lamps,
-without having to fill them," and Mrs. Borland sighed the sigh of the
-defrauded and oppressed.
-
-"Don’t worry about me, mother; if you only knew how much better a girl’s
-complexion shows with them than with the gas, you wouldn’t abuse them
-so. All right, father, I’ll put the finishing touches on you in a
-minute—what did you say was the hour for the meeting? I wish I could
-go—one of the hardest things about being a girl is that you can’t go to
-political meetings," and Madeline’s merry face showed how seriously she
-regarded the handicap.
-
-"Them lamps is all right, mother—they come of good old stock," and David
-regarded a tall, umbrageous one with something very like affection;
-"that there one was the last light that shined on my father’s face," he
-added reminiscently, "an’ I’m awful glad we kept it. The meetin’s at
-half-past eight, Madeline. An’ don’t feel bad ’cause you can’t go—us
-politicians has our own troubles," he continued with mock gravity; "it
-was this kind o’ thing killed Daniel Webster—an’ I’m not feelin’
-terrible peart myself. But I’m goin’ to wear my Sunday choker," he
-concluded cheerfully enough, holding his tie out to Madeline, the
-dimpled hands now ready for the important duty.
-
-"Tie it carefully, Madeline—if your father’s going to resign, he should
-look his best when he’s doing it," and Mrs. Borland surveyed the
-operation with a critical eye. "I’ll warrant you Mr. Craig’ll be dressed
-like a lord."
-
-"I ain’t goin’ to resign, mother—I’m only goin’ to withdraw," David
-corrected gravely. "There’s all the difference in the world between
-resignin’ an’ withdrawin’; any one can resign, but it takes a terrible
-smart man to withdraw. You’ve got to be a politician, like me, afore
-you know what a terrible difference there is between words like them;
-can’t be too careful, when you’re a politician—for your country’s sake,
-you know. No, mother—no, you don’t—I ain’t goin’ to wear that long
-black coat."
-
-"Oh, father," began Madeline.
-
-"But, David," his wife remonstrated, interrupting, "remember you’re
-going to make a speech—and when would you wear it, if not to-night? I’m
-sure Mr. Craig’ll have on the best coat he’s got—and that tweed’s
-getting so shabby."
-
-"I won’t go back on it when it’s gettin’ old an’ seedy," David retorted
-vigorously; "I know what that feels like myself. It stuck to me when I
-seen better days, an’ I’m not goin’ to desert it now—I ain’t that kind
-of a man. An’ if Craig wants to dress up like an undertaker, that’s his
-funeral. Besides, a fellow’s ideas comes easier in an old coat—an
-orator’s got to consider all them things, you know. Confound this
-dickie, it won’t stay down—I believe Madeline put ’east in it," as he
-smote his swelling bosom, bidding it subside.
-
-"I’m sorry you’re not going to stand, David; I believe you’d be elected
-if you’d only run. I always hoped you’d be the first mayor of
-Glenallen—let me just brush that coat before you go," and Mrs. Borland
-fell upon it with right good-will.
-
-"Words is funny things," mused David, as he suffered himself to be
-turned this way and that for the operation; "’specially with orators an’
-politicians. If a fellow stands, that means he’s runnin’—don’t scrape my
-neck like that, mother," ducking evasively as he spoke. "It’s somethin’
-like what I heard a fellow say at the Horse Show; he says, ’the judges
-look a horse all over—them fellows don’t overlook nothin’,’ says he.
-No, I ain’t goin’ to stand, mother; nor I won’t run, neither. I’ll jest
-sit down. You see, a fellow that lives in a cottage this size, there
-ain’t nothin’ else for him to do—not unless he’s a fool. Don’t brush my
-hat like that, mother; you’re skinnin’ it—what did it ever do to you?
-Well, good-bye, mother; I’m a candidate now—but I’ll only jest be a man
-when I get back. I won’t even be an orator, I reckon. Good-bye,
-Madeline—wrap that there black coat up in them camp-fire balls," he
-directed, nodding towards the rejected black.
-
-"I’m going with you as far as the gate, father; you’ve got to have some
-kind of a send-off."
-
-"That’s all right, daughter; welcome the comin’, part the speedin’
-guest, as the old proverb says."
-
-"Speed the parting guest, you mean, David," Mrs. Borland amended
-seriously.
-
-"Same thing, an hour after he’s gone," David responded cheerily; "feed
-him’d be better’n either of ’em, to my way o’ thinkin’," as he started
-forth on his momentous mission.
-
-
-Mrs. Borland was not far astray in her prediction. For when at length
-the two candidates—and there were but two—ascended the platform in the
-crowded hall, David’s rival was resplendent in a new suit of which the
-far-descending coat was the most conspicuous feature. Mr. Craig had
-fitting notions as to what became the prospective mayor of a town which
-had never enjoyed such an ornament before.
-
-And his speech was almost as elongated as the garment aforesaid, largely
-composed of complacent references to the prosperity the town had enjoyed
-as the product of his own. Surreptitious hints to the effect that only
-the commercially successful should aspire to municipal honours were not
-wanting. "It’s a poor assurance that a man can manage public affairs,
-if he can’t look after his own successfully," he said, as David sat
-meekly listening; "and," he went on in a sudden burst of feeling,
-hastening to the conclusion of his speech, "I may, I think, fairly claim
-to have been a successful man. And I won’t deny that I’m proud of it.
-But, fellow citizens, nothing in all this world could give me so great
-pride as to be elected the first chief-magistrate of this growing town.
-I’ve known something of life’s honours," he declared grandiloquently,
-"and I’ve mingled some with the great ones of the earth; at least,"
-hesitating a little, "I did when I was a child. And just here I’ll tell
-you a little incident that I can never refer to without feeling my heart
-beat high with pride." (Mr. Craig had no little fluency as a public
-speaker when he discoursed of things concerning himself.) "As many of
-you know, my father was a gentleman of leisure—and he travelled widely.
-Well, I can still recall one winter we spent in Spain—I was but a
-child—but I can remember being at a great public meeting in Madrid.
-Some members of the Royal family were there," he declared, as he paused
-to see the effect on the gaping sons of toil, "and I remember, as if it
-were but yesterday, how, when the Infanta was going down the aisle and I
-was standing gazing up into her face, she laid her hand upon my boyish
-head as she passed me. I’ll not deny, fellow citizens, that that touch
-has been sacred to me ever since—but I say to the working-men before me
-to-night that I consider it a greater honour to hold the horny hand of
-the working-man, the hands that will mark the ballots that shall bring
-me the crowning honour of my life," and the candidate gathered up the
-folds of his spreading coat as he resumed his seat, smiling benignly
-down upon the rather unresponsive crowd.
-
-For many of his auditors were decidedly in the dark as to the source of
-this honour that had befallen him in ancient Spain.
-
-"What kind of a animal was that, Tom, that tetched him on the head?" one
-bronzed toiler asked of his companion as he still gazed, bewildered
-rather, on the reclining Mr. Craig. "Did he say a elephant—sounded
-summat like that anyhow, didn’t it?"
-
-"No, no," the other answered, a little impatiently; "what would
-elephants be doin’ at a public meetin’? He said ’twas a infantum—I heard
-him myself."
-
-"What’s a infantum?" the first persisted earnestly.
-
-"Oh—well. Well, it’s a kind of a baby—only it’s feminine," he explained
-learnedly. "An’ I think it’s got somethin’ to do wi’ the cholery—don’t
-talk, there’s Mr. Borland gettin’ up. Hurrah," he shouted, joining in
-the general chorus, and glad of this very opportune escape.
-
-David began very haltingly. Yet he could not but feel the cordiality of
-his welcome; and his glance, at first rather furtive and shy, became
-more confident as he gradually felt the ground beneath his feet. "I
-ain’t much used to public speakin’," he started hesitatingly; "never
-made but one speech like this before. They were a little obstreperous
-when I began, but before I got through you could have—have heard a
-crowbar drop," he affirmed, to the delight of his audience. "I can’t
-sling it off like my friend Mr. Craig, here; mebbe it’s because I’ve not
-moved in them royal circles," he ventured as soberly as he could.
-"Though I think I’ve got him beat when it comes to rubbin’ noses with
-the quality. I’ve done a little in that line myself—when I was a little
-shaver, too. None o’ them royal folks ever patted me on the head—but I
-threw up all over Abe Lincoln once. Old Abe used to stop at my father’s
-in Peoria when he was ridin’ the circuit," David explained carefully;
-"an’ once he picked me up—I was jest a baby—an’ threw me up to the
-ceilin’; then I done the same when I came down—too soon after dinner,
-you see," he added, his words lost in the mirth that stormed about him.
-"But other ways, I ain’t what you’d call a successful man, I reckon," he
-went on, the quotation obvious. "I’ve always been kind o’ scared, ever
-since I was a young fellow, for fear I’d be too successful—that is, the
-way some folks reckon success. I knew a terrible successful man in
-Illinois one time—he was that successful that he got richer than any
-other man in the county. An’ he got so fond o’ bein’ successful that he
-nearly gave up eatin’—jest to be more successful. He got that fond of it
-that by and by he wouldn’t even spend the money for gettin’ his hair
-cut; he used to soak his head, in the winter, an’ then stand outside
-till it froze stiff—then he’d break it off. He was a terrible
-successful man, to his way o’ thinkin’," David went on gravely, the
-crowd rocking to and fro in a spasm of delight. "So I think, my
-friends, I’d better jest own up I’ve been a failure. An’ I thank you,
-more’n I can say, for wantin’ me to be your first mayor—but I’m goin’ to
-sit back quiet an’ give some better man the job. For one thing, I’m
-gettin’ to be an old man—an’ that’s a disease that don’t heal much.
-Besides, I’ll have enough to do to make a livin’. I won’t deny I used
-to wake up nights an’ think it’d be fine to be the first boss o’ the
-whole town; but I reckon it ain’t comin’ my way—it ain’t intended to be
-wove into my web, by the looks o’ things. But I thank you for—for your
-love," David blurted out, vainly searching for a better word. "An’ what
-kind o’ gives me a lump in my throat, is the way I see how the men that
-used to work for me is the loyalest to me now. That’s terrible rich
-pay—an’ I can stand here to-night an’ say, afore God an’ man, that I’ve
-tried to be more a friend than a boss. Your joys has been my joys, an’
-your sorrows has been my sorrows," his voice quivering a little as he
-spoke the gracious words; "an’ I ain’t disgraced—if I did get beat in
-business. This here’s far sweeter to me now than if it’d come my way
-when I was livin’ in the big house, wadin’ round knee-deep in clover.
-It’s when a fellow’s down he loves to find out how many true friends
-he’s got; any old torn umbrella’s just as good as a five dollar one—till
-the rain’s peltin’ down on him—an’ then he knows the difference. So I
-can’t do nothin’ but thank you all, an’ tell you how glad you’ve made
-me. I’ll be all right," he concluded with heroic bearing, "I’ll get my
-bite an’ my sup, an’ I’ll go down to my rest in peace; an’ I’m
-richer—far richer than I ever thought. It’s friends that make a fellow
-rich; an’ I intend keepin’ them as long as I live—an’ after, too," he
-concluded, turning from his chair to add the words, electrical in their
-effect.
-
-Then came a scene, such a scene as gladdens the heart of but one man in
-a generation. All sorts and conditions of men joined in the storm of
-protest, refusing to permit David to withdraw his name. Many, mostly
-toil-stained working-men, struggled for the floor. Testimonies came
-thick and fast, volunteered with glowing ardour.
-
-"He never used to pass my little girl on the street without givin’ her a
-nickel or a dime—most always a dime," a burly blacksmith roared, his
-voice as powerful as his muscle.
-
-"Mr. Borland kept me on when times was hard," an old man proclaimed in a
-squeaky voice; "he kept me mowin’ the grass four times a week, when
-everythin’ was burnt up wi’ the drooth."
-
-"He sent my little boy to the Children’s Hospital in the city," another
-informed the thrilling multitude; "an’ now he can run like a deer—it was
-hip-disease."
-
-"He sat up two nights hand-runnin’ with Jake Foley when he had ammonia
-in both lungs," imparted one of the lustiest of David’s former workmen,
-"an’ the next day they found ten dollars in a sugar jug; an’ when they
-axed him if he done it he said they wanted to insult him—said it was the
-same as axin’ a man if he’d been tastin’. But we ain’t all fools,"
-concluded the witness, his indignant eulogy cheered to the echo.
-
-After a valiant struggle the chairman secured order, Mr. Craig looking
-on with the expression that children wear when they see their tiny craft
-being borne out to sea. The noble electors demanded a vote; which, duly
-taken, voiced the overwhelming desire that David should be their man.
-Whereupon Mr. Craig, not slow to remark the signs of the times,
-possessed himself of a very imposing hat and made as if to leave the
-platform, the crowd suddenly subsiding as it became evident he had a
-word to say before retiring.
-
-"I’m done with municipal life from this time on," he declared hotly, as
-quiet was restored. "I’m not going to enter the lists with a man that
-has proved—that hasn’t proved—with David Borland," he concluded,
-floundering. "If the town can do without me, I guess I can do without
-the town."
-
-"You’d better go and travel abroad in them foreign parts, an’ mebbe——" a
-voice from the audience began to advise.
-
-"That’s mean," David cried above the returning din; "that’s mean—sit
-down, Mr. Craig," turning with a grace even those who knew him best
-would hardly have thought he could command.
-
-"I withdraw," Mr. Craig shouted hotly.
-
-"But don’t go yet," David pleaded in the most unconventional voice. "I
-don’t like to see a man withdrawin’ that way." Somewhat mollified, Mr.
-Craig resumed his seat.
-
-Loud demands for a speech finally brought David to his feet again.
-"Well, friends," he began, "I’m all used up. I never expected nothin’
-like this—an’ I don’t hardly know what to say. But I can’t—I jest can’t
-refuse now," he said, his words lost in a mighty cheer. "I didn’t know
-you all felt that way—so much. An’ I believe I’m gladder for—for two
-people that ain’t here to-night," he said in a low, earnest voice, "than
-for any other reason in the world. An’ I’ll—I’ll take it—if Mr. Craig
-here’ll help me," suddenly turning towards his rival of a moment before.
-"He knows lots more about them things than me," moving over to where he
-sat, "an’ if he’ll promise to help, we’ll—we’ll run the show together."
-
-There being now no other candidate, the returning-officer declared Mr.
-Borland the first mayor; and the vanquished, yielding to the great soul
-that challenged him, took the other’s hand in his.
-
-
-
-
- *XXX*
-
- _*A JOURNALIST’S INJUNCTIONS*_
-
-
-"I don’t believe we’ll ever find him, Harvey. We have so little clue—and
-almost all we can do is wait." Jessie sighed; her life had had so much
-of waiting.
-
-"That’s the hard part of it," her brother answered, "but what else can
-we do; it does seem hard to think one’s own father is living somewhere,
-and yet we may live and die without ever seeing him. I’ve tried all the
-poor little ways I can—but they’re so ineffectual. Yet I don’t think
-there’s ever a day my mind doesn’t go out to him. Mother said,
-though—she said he’d come back some day."
-
-"What did she mean?" Jessie asked eagerly.
-
-"I don’t know," said Harvey. "That is, I don’t know just what was in
-her mind. And she told me about his—his weakness," the brother’s face
-flushing with the words. "And if I ever succeed enough—if I ever get
-rich enough, I mean—I’ll begin a search everywhere for him; she said no
-father ever loved his children more," and Harvey’s eyes were very
-wistful as they looked into his sister’s.
-
-Jessie was silent a while. "You’re—you’re going to succeed, aren’t you,
-brother?" she said, timidly. "If father ever does come back—he’ll—he’ll
-find we’ve—conquered, won’t he, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey’s answer was very slow in coming. Finally he reached out and
-took his sister’s hand; the words rang hopefully.
-
-"I feel somehow, I don’t know why, Jessie, but I feel somehow as if I
-were just at the turning of the tide. Nobody’ll ever know what a
-fearful fight it’s been—but I don’t think I’ll have to struggle like
-this much longer. It’s like fighting in the waves for your life—but I
-think it’s nearly over. I don’t want you to go home again for a little,
-Jessie."
-
-"What do you mean, Harvey? Do you mean anything particular’s going to
-happen?"
-
-He hesitated. "I don’t know—but I think so. I’ve always had a feeling
-to-morrow’d be a better day than yesterday. I’ve always felt as if
-something lay beyond; and when I reached it—and passed it, everything
-would be different then."
-
-There are few who know it—but the uncertainty of life is life’s greatest
-stimulus. That is, the sense of further possibilities, unexpected
-happenings, developments not to be foreseen. This is true of the poor,
-the enslaved, the broken-hearted; it is no less true of the caressed of
-fortune and the favourites of fate. The veil that hides to-morrow’s face
-is life’s chiefesf source of zest, not excepting love itself. Men’s
-hearts would break if they could descry the plain beyond and search its
-level surface to the end; wherefore the All-wise has broken the long way
-to fragments, every turn in the road, the long, winding road, a
-well-spring of hope and expectation. The most dejected heart, proclaim
-its hopelessness as it may, still cherishes a secret confidence that
-things cannot always thus remain; downcast and tear-bedimmed, those eyes
-are still turned towards the morrow, or the morning, or the
-spring-time—for by such different symbols God would teach us how ill He
-brooks monotony.
-
-Especially is this true of one who struggles with his sin. Beaten again
-and again, vows turned to shame and resolutions to reproach, conscience
-and will trodden under foot of appetite, the wearied warrior still
-trusts that to-morrow will turn the battle from the gate. Something
-will turn up; if he could but get a fresh start, or if he could escape
-from boon companions, or if he were once braced up a bit, or if this did
-not worry and that beset—all these varied tones does Hope’s indomitable
-voice assume. Sad and pitiful enough, we say; and we smile at what we
-call the weakness of poor humanity—but it all bears witness to that
-hopeful anguish which is bred of manifold temptations; it is the earnest
-expectation of the creature waiting for the manifestation of the sons of
-God.
-
-
-"Not enough snap about any of this stuff, I tell you, Simmons." The
-time was an hour and a half after Harvey had bidden Jessie, again Miss
-Farringall’s willing guest, good-bye, and gone forth to his work until
-the midnight. The words were those of Mr. Timothy Crothers, city editor
-and director in chief of the _Morning Argus_. Mr. Crothers had taken
-off his collar an hour before, which was silently accepted by the staff
-as a storm-signal of the most accurate kind. Cold let it be without or
-hot, Mr. Crothers’ sanctum soon became a torrid region when once he had
-removed his neck apparel—and Harvey looked up with more of expectation
-than surprise, having already witnessed the divestiture.
-
-"It makes a man hot under the collar," Mr. Crothers pursued wrathily,
-giving a phantom jerk in the neighbourhood of his neck, "to have stuff
-like this brought in to him; it’s as dry as Presbyterian preaching."
-
-"Isn’t it true, Mr. Crothers?" Harvey asked, calmly opening his knife
-and applying it to an exhausted pencil. "That’s the first quality for
-news, isn’t it?"
-
-"First qualities be hanged," quoth Mr. Crothers contemptuously. "And it
-isn’t news at all—it’s chloroform. Nothing’s news that doesn’t make
-people sit up; you’ll never make a newspaper man till you learn how to
-spice things up—lots of pepper, red pepper at that. A paper that can’t
-make ’em sneeze will never earn its salt."
-
-"Are you referring to the report I wrote of the game with the Scotch
-bowlers, Mr. Crothers?" Harvey enquired, nodding towards a confused
-cluster of well-scrawled pages on the table.
-
-"Yes, mostly that; you don’t make the thing bite. It’s nearly all about
-how they played—and we don’t get twenty bowlers here from Scotland every
-year."
-
-"About how they played!" echoed Harvey. "What else is there?"
-
-"Everything else. Nobody cares a fig about how they played. Serve up
-something about the Johnnies themselves—something real interesting.
-That’s the whole thing. Now, for instance, look at some of this other
-stuff," and Mr. Crothers took a chair close to Harvey, settling down to
-business; "here you have an item about a law being enforced by the
-Government, to provide that all dangerous lunatics must be confined in
-asylums. Don’t you see what’s the proper thing to say about that?"
-
-"No," said Harvey. "It strikes me that’s an occasion for saying mighty
-little."
-
-"Nothing of the sort. It’s a bully fine chance to say that this means
-the organ across the way will lose its editor. Everybody’ll enjoy that,
-don’t you see?"
-
-"The editor won’t," said Harvey.
-
-"Of course, he won’t—that’s just the point. And here’s another
-case—about the Hon. Mr. Worthing being struck by a street car. I notice
-you have him sitting up already. That won’t do; a paper that cures them
-as quick as that won’t be able to pay its office-boy soon. Of course,
-it’s true enough, I dare say—he’s probably playing billiards in his
-home, with a trained nurse answering the front door; like enough, he’s
-sitting up all night going over his accident policies. But we’ve got to
-have him bandaged to the teeth—the public loves lots of arnica and
-sticking plaster—and he’s struggling for consciousness—and he’s got to
-be crying out every now and then as if he were being ground to powder;
-and his wife’s going into swoons and coming out of them like a train
-running tunnels in the Rockies. Besides, we’ve got to lambaste the
-Company; the street-car line is our municipal
-assassin—Moloch—Juggernaut—all that sort of thing. But both those words
-should be in—and you can’t use words like that if their victim’s going
-to be down street to-morrow."
-
-"You should have a staff of novelists," suggested Harvey.
-
-"And here—here’s a capital illustration of what I mean," Mr. Crothers
-hurried on, ignoring the innuendo. "I see Rev. Dr. Blakeley comes out
-with the announcement that there’s no such place as hell—do you know
-what I’d say there, Simmons?"
-
-"You’d say you had no objections, I should think," Harvey’s face
-lighting with unfamiliar merriment.
-
-"I wouldn’t—the public doesn’t care a tinker’s malediction whether I
-object or not. There’s a great chance there for a civic stroke—I’d say
-this information throws us back on Blankville," and Mr. Crothers named
-with much contempt a rival city fifty miles away. "It’s little gems
-like that, that make a paper readable. I see a fellow in that same city
-was arrested for kissing girls on the street; then he was examined and
-found insane. Well, the thing to say there, is, that any one who had
-ever seen their girls would have known the man was crazy. News is like
-food, Simmons—everything depends on how it’s prepared; nobody likes it
-raw."
-
-"But what about that game with the Scotchmen?" Harvey ventured, inwardly
-rather chagrined with the verdict on his handiwork.
-
-"Well, you’ve got it chuck full of points about the game—and that’s no
-good. It’s got to be interesting. You’ve got to give it a human touch.
-There’s one of the Scotch bowlers, for instance, old Sanderson from
-Edinburgh—they say he’s worth eleven millions. Well, I’m told there’s
-an old fellow that sweeps out a little struggling church on Cedar
-Street—he’s its caretaker—and I’m told he used to go to school with
-Sanderson. Now, it’s the simplest thing in the world to have that old
-geezer come around to the green with his feather duster in his hand—and
-Sanderson stares at him a minute; then he recognizes him all of a
-sudden, and the old dodgers fall to and hug each other like two old
-maids. And have them both weep—especially Sanderson, because he’s rich.
-And some of those other millionaires should go off to the edge of the
-lawn and blow their nose—you understand—the human touch, as I said.
-Make Sanderson go home with the old geezer for supper; might just as
-well—it wouldn’t hurt him."
-
-"Sanderson wouldn’t relish the caretaker’s bill of fare, I’m afraid,"
-Harvey said significantly.
-
-"I guess you’re right. And that brings me back to the thing I intended
-particularly to speak about. Those Scotchmen were properly beaten, as
-your score-card shows. But you don’t give the real reason—and it’s the
-kind of a reason everybody likes to hear about. For all you say, any
-one would think it was a mere matter of skill. Now, of course, we all
-know the reason—it’s the moist time they were having that licked them.
-Most of them were full. Of course, it wouldn’t do to put it that
-way—nobody’d enjoy that. But it’s a capital chance for some delicate
-word-painting—keep it kind of veiled. Say something like this: ’our
-genial visitors drank deep of the spirit that was much in evidence
-throughout the game.’ Or, better still: ’our genial visitors became
-more and more animated by their national spirit as the game wore on—some
-of them seemed quite full of it.’ Or something like this: ’in liquid
-prowess our British cousins far outran us—if, indeed, that be the proper
-verb, since many of our friends were in various degrees of horizontality
-before the game was finished.’ You see, a description like that appeals
-to the imagination—it’s subtle—keeps readers guessing. Or this would be
-a fine way of putting it: ’it was evident yesterday that the little
-finger plays an important part in the ancient game of bowling on the
-green’—something like that. What I’m getting at, Simmons, is
-this—there’s a great chance there for something humorous, and a
-journalist ought to make the most of it. What makes you look so glum,
-Simmons?—I don’t believe you’ve got much sense of humour yourself."
-
-Harvey made no response. But his face was resting on his hand, and
-there must have been something in the plaintive eyes that engaged the
-attention of Mr. Crothers. He could hardly fail to see that all of a
-sudden Harvey had become deaf to his tuition; and, more remarkable, the
-care-worn face seemed but to grow graver as his monitor pursued his
-praise of mirth.
-
-"You’re looking rather blue, Simmons," he added after a keen scrutiny,
-Harvey still remaining silent; "but that needn’t prevent you writing
-lots of funny things. Some of the funniest things ever written, or
-spoken, have been done by people with broken hearts inside of them.
-Take an actor for instance—doubling up his audience, and his own little
-girl dying at home—most likely asking why father doesn’t come, too;
-queer tangled world this, my boy, and nobody feels its pulse better than
-us fellows. Anything the matter, Simmons?" he suddenly enquired, for
-Harvey’s lips were pale; and the chief could see a quiver, as of pain,
-overrun his face.
-
-Harvey’s voice had a wealth of passion in it. "You’ll have to get some
-other fellow to see the humorous side of—of—of that thing," he said.
-
-"What do you mean? What thing?" asked the dumfoundered Crothers.
-
-"That drink business—God! it’s no comedy," and Crothers started as he
-saw the perspiration breaking out on Harvey’s brow, his face a
-battlefield, his hands clenched as if he saw an enemy.
-
-Crothers indulged in a low whistle, his eyes never moving from Harvey’s
-face. For the veteran journalist was no child. He knew the marks of
-strife when he saw them; experience partly, and sympathy still more, had
-fitted him to tell the difference between a man sporting in the surf and
-a man fighting for his life against the undertow. And one keen look
-into the depths of Harvey’s outpouring eyes told him he was in the
-presence of a tragedy. He rose and put his hand on Harvey’s shoulder;
-familiar with tender ways it was not—but it was a human hand, and a
-human heart had laid it there.
-
-"Simmons," he said, and the usually gruff voice had a gentle note;
-"Simmons, I know what you mean. May as well tell you straight, I’ve
-heard a little—and I’ve seen a little, too. And I should have known
-better than talk like that to you. And we all believe you’ll win out
-yet, old chap. Now I’ll tell you what I think you ought to do. You
-ought to go away somewhere for a little trip—there’s nothing helps a man
-in a fight of this kind like having his attention taken up with
-something else. I’ll keep your place open for you here—and if you could
-get a couple of congenial fellows to go off with you for a little
-holiday you’d be like a new man when you came back. Strictly
-water-waggon fellows, of course," he added with a smile. "I know it’s a
-hard fight, my boy—but buckle right down to it. And you go right home
-now—you’re played clean out, I can see that—and take a good sleep till
-noon. Then you skip out just as soon as you can arrange it and have a
-ripping good holiday; that’ll set you up better than anything else.
-Good-night now—or good-morning, rather, I guess. And remember this
-above all things, Simmons—keep your mind diverted, always be sure and
-keep your mind diverted," with which advice Mr. Crothers rose to
-accompany Harvey to the door.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXI*
-
- _*THE TROUGH OF THE WAVE*_
-
-
-He was glad to be alone. Lesser conflicts crave the help and
-inspiration of human company; but there comes a time when a man knows
-the battle must be fought out alone against the principalities and
-powers that no heart, however strong or loving, can help him to
-withstand. For no other can discern his enemy but himself.
-
-Harvey turned with swift steps towards home. He thought of his waiting
-room, with everything that could contribute to self-respect and comfort;
-and of Miss Farringall, whose increasing devotion seldom failed to find
-a voice, no matter how late the hour of his return. But as he hurried
-along he marvelled at the strange craving that gnawed persistently
-within. The action of his heart seemed weak; his lips were parched; his
-hands were shaky, his nerves a-tingle, while a nameless terror, as if of
-impending ill, cast its shadow over him. And through it all burned the
-dreadful thirst, tyrannical, insistent, tormenting.
-
-Resolved to resist to the last, he was still pressing steadily on.
-Suddenly he stopped almost still, his eyes fixed upon a light in an
-upper window. His heart leaped as he saw a tall form pass between him
-and the lamp. For he recognized it, or thought he did. The room was
-Oliver’s—that same Oliver as had goaded him to that fatal toast—and it
-was quite a common experience for that worthy to be playing host through
-the small hours of the morning. A sense of peril smote Harvey as he
-looked; yet, reflecting a moment, he assured himself that he would find
-around that brilliant light two or three whose blithe companionship
-would help to beat back the evil spirit that assailed him. A chat on
-matters journalistic, a good laugh, an hour or two of human fellowship
-would give him relief from this infernal craving. Besides, what hope for
-him if he could not resist a little temptation, should such present
-itself?
-
-So his resolve was quickly formed; putting his fingers to his mouth, a
-shrill whistle brought a familiar face to the window.
-
-"Jumping Jehoshaphat! is that you, Simmons?" was the exclamation that
-greeted Harvey as soon as he was recognized. "Come on up—we were just
-speaking of you. I’ll be down to the door in less than half a minute."
-
-The allotted time had scarce elapsed when Palmer, for such was the name
-of the cordial blade—clerk in a mercantile house and friend to
-Oliver—was at the door. Taking Harvey’s arm he guided him cheerfully
-through the somewhat dingy hall, ushering him into a rather dishevelled
-room, in separate corners of which sat the hospitable Oliver and another
-boon companion, Scottie Forrester by name. Like Oliver, Scottie was in
-newspaper life; his apprenticeship had been served in Glasgow.
-
-"Brethren," Palmer said solemnly as they entered, "I know you’re always
-glad when we can bring in any poor wanderer from the highways or byways.
-I want you to be kind to the stranger for my sake—he hasn’t had anything
-to eat since his last meal."
-
-"Sit down, Simmons," directed Oliver. "Don’t mind Palmer—he’s
-farm-bred, you know, and he thinks it’s a deuce of an achievement to sit
-up at night. He used to have to go to bed with the calves."
-
-"Now I sit up with the goats," rejoined the once rustic Palmer,
-producing a pipe and calmly proceeding to equip it. "But I ought to be
-in bed. I’m played out. I was so tired at dinner to-night I went to
-sleep over the salad course."
-
-"Oh, Lord," broke in Forrester; "hear him prattling about night
-dinners—and he never had anything but bread and molasses for supper on
-the farm. And hear him giving us that guff about the salad course, as
-if he was the son of a duke. If you’d lived in Glasgow, my boy, they’d
-have brought you to time pretty quick. A man’s got to be a gentleman
-over there, I tell you, before he has evening dinners and all that sort
-of thing—did you drink out of the finger-bowls, Palmer?"
-
-"You needn’t talk, Scottie," growled Oliver. "You write your letters at
-the Arlington—and you get your dinner for fifteen cents at Webb’s, at
-the counter, with your hat on."
-
-"You’re a liar," retorted Scottie, meaning no offense whatever. "I’ve
-got as good blood inside of me as any man in this city; my mother was
-born in Auchterarder Castle and——"
-
-"I wouldn’t be found dead in a root-house with a name like that,"
-interrupted the agricultural Palmer. "Anyhow, I guess she was the
-cook—and what’s more, nobody here cares what you’ve got inside of you.
-But there’s poor Simmons—he’s our guest—and he looks as if he hadn’t put
-anything inside of him for a dog’s age. Where’s the restorative,
-Scottie? It’s always you that had it last."
-
-Scottie arose and walked solemnly to a little cupboard in the wall.
-"I’ll inform you, Mr. Simmons," he began gravely, his back still turned
-to the company, "that we’re here for a double purpose. First, we were
-having a little intellectual conference on—on the rise and fall of the
-Russian empire, as a great authority put it. You see, we’re a kind of a
-Samuel Johnson coterie—and this is a kind of a Cheshire Cheese. I was
-there once when I was in London."
-
-"He went to London with cattle," informed Oliver, striking a match—"he
-was a swine herd in Scotland."
-
-"And I’m Samuel Johnson," pursued Forrester, unruffled; "and Palmer,
-he’s Boswell. And we have a great time discussing things."
-
-"Who’s Oliver?" Harvey enquired with faint interest.
-
-"Oh, yes, I forgot him; Oliver’s the cuspidor—you ought to be right in
-the middle of the room, Oliver," he continued amiably, turning round
-with a large black bottle in his hand. "And the other purpose we’re
-here for, Mr. Simmons, is to celebrate Palmer’s birthday. We don’t know
-exactly how old he is—he’s lied about his age so long that he’s not sure
-himself. But this is his birthday, anyhow; and they sent him up a
-little present from the farm. It’s a superior brand of raspberry
-vinegar, made by an aged aunt that’s worth twenty thousand and won’t
-die."
-
-"Stop your jack-assery, Forrester," broke in Palmer; "you can’t fool
-Simmons—he’s got his eye on the label."
-
-Which was true enough. Harvey’s eye was gleaming, staring, like some
-pallid woodsman’s when it catches the glare of an Indian’s fire.
-
-"That’s all right, Simmons," explained Forrester calmly; "the bottle
-happens to bear an honoured Glasgow name—and the liquid is worthy of it.
-There isn’t a headache in a hogshead—try it and see."
-
-Harvey’s lips were white and dry. "No, thank you, Forrester," he said
-in a harsh voice that sounded far away. "I won’t take any."
-
-"Take a little for Palmer’s stomach’s sake—he’s had enough."
-
-Harvey refused again. Destitute was his answer of all merriment or
-banter. He stood bolt upright, fixed as a statue, his eyes still on the
-big black thing Forrester was holding out in front of him. "Not any,
-Forrester," he said; "I don’t want any, I tell you."
-
-"Let him alone, Scottie," interrupted Palmer. "Simmons is on the
-water-waggon, to-night anyhow—and besides, that stuff’s a dollar and a
-half a quart."
-
-Forrester was about to comply when Oliver suddenly arose from his
-lounging position and shuffled out to where the two were standing. He
-had already familiarized himself with the bottle sufficiently to be in a
-rather hectoring mood.
-
-"Go and sit down, Forrester," he growled out; "I guess I’m the host
-here. And I don’t blame Simmons for turning up his nose," he went on as
-he turned and opened a little cabinet—"poking a black bottle in front of
-a man as if he were a coal-heaver; we’re not on the Glasgow cattle
-market," he added contemptuously, producing a couple of glasses and
-handing one to Harvey. "Here, Simmons, drink like a gentleman—and I’ll
-drink with you." And the sweat came out on Harvey’s forehead as the
-stuff poured out, gurgling enticingly as it broke from the bottle’s
-mouth. "Here, this is yours; and we’ll drink to the _Morning
-Argus_—it’ll belong to you some day. I heard to-day it’s going to change
-hands soon anyhow."
-
-The mention of the name lent a wealth of resolution to Harvey’s wavering
-will. He recalled, his heart maddening at the memory, how Oliver had
-pressed this self-same toast before.
-
-"I won’t, Oliver," he said, controlling himself. "I don’t want any."
-
-"Come now, Simmons, don’t be foolish; you’ve had a hard night’s work,
-and you look all in—just a night cap to help you sleep."
-
-"Look here, Oliver," Harvey’s voice rising a little, "I guess I know my
-own mind. I tell you I won’t drink. I’m under promise. I’m bound over
-not to take anything; and I’ve got more at stake on it than I can afford
-to lose—so you may as well shut up."
-
-Oliver came a step nearer. "You can’t bluff me, old man," he said
-through his teeth, his heavy eyes snapping. "And anyhow, I’ll pay it,"
-he blustered, holding out the fuming glass, a leer of dogged cunning on
-his face. "I’ll pay your stake, Simmons."
-
-"You go to hell," hissed Harvey, striking out wildly, one hand smashing
-the bottle in fragments to the floor, the other clutching Oliver by the
-throat; "you infernal blood-sucker," as he pressed him backward to the
-wall.
-
-Palmer and Forrester sprang towards the men; but before they were able
-to interfere, Harvey had hurled Oliver against the table, which crashed
-to the floor in a heap, Oliver mingling with the wreckage. While his
-guests were helping him to his feet, Harvey strode towards the door; the
-accursed fumes rose about him like evil spirits, importunate and deadly,
-clutching at the very heart-strings of his will.
-
-Pale and trembling, he turned when he reached the door. "Anything more
-to pay?" he muttered, nodding towards Oliver; "does he want to continue
-the argument?"
-
-Oliver made a stifled protest, but his friends united to declare that
-the debate was at an end. "Come back, Simmons," appealed Palmer; "don’t
-let our little evening break up like this—Oliver’s got no kick coming.
-Sit down."
-
-But Harvey uttered an inaudible malediction and slammed the door behind
-him. They could hear him finding his way along the unlighted hall.
-
-"You got what was coming to you, old chap," Palmer informed his host;
-"nobody’s got any right to badger a fellow the way you did Simmons.
-It’s worse than setting fire to a barn—you’re a damned incendiary," he
-concluded, resuming the smoke that had been so effectually interrupted.
-
-While the debate, thus happily begun, went on its vigorous way, Harvey
-was walking aimlessly about the street, caring little whither his steps
-might lead him. After the first gust of excitement had subsided a new
-and delicious sense of victory possessed him. Not from having worsted
-Oliver—that was quite forgotten—but from having met and conquered his
-temptation. His breath came fast as he recalled, how stern and sore had
-the conflict been; but a kind of elation he had never known before
-mingled with the memory of it all. For he had won—and under the most
-trying circumstances—and he smiled to himself as he thought how he had
-passed through the ordeal. Its most hopeful feature was for the future;
-it was a pledge of how he might hope to prevail if the fight should ever
-be renewed. Reassured, he even fell to thinking of other things; of his
-promise to his mother—had she seen his struggle and gloried in his
-victory, he wondered; and of Jessie, faithful ally; and of his
-profession and his progress in it. He recalled, as though it had
-occurred long ago, Oliver’s prediction that he would some day own the
-_Argus_—and his fierce anger towards Oliver abated a little. Yet all
-this was insignificant, he reflected, compared to the progress he was
-making along higher lines.
-
-But the elation did not last. Fatigue crept upon him. And he was
-chilled; he was hungry, too. Besides, the nervous strain had been a
-severe one, and the reaction was correspondingly acute. Gradually the
-tide ceased to flow, then stood stationary a moment—then began ebbing
-fast. And the sense of victory paled and died; the thrill of exultation
-passed away; the ardour of battle and of conquest chilled within him.
-And again his lips became parched, his hand again unsteady, his nerves
-again unstrung. And the dreadful thirst returned. To the swept and
-garnished house the evil spirit crept back with muffled tread, hopeful
-of a better tenure.
-
-The stoutest castle is easily taken if its lord has ceased to watch. Or
-if he be absent, the capture is easier still—especially if he be gone to
-feast on former battle fields where his right arm brought him victory.
-
-Wherefore Harvey’s second struggle was brief and pitiful; the enemy had
-caught him unawares. And more shrill and impatient than before was the
-whistle that sounded soon again beneath Oliver’s still lighted window.
-And his welcome was not less cordial, Oliver himself taking the leading
-part.
-
-"What in thunder’s the matter, Simmons?" enquired Palmer; "you look as
-if you’d been through a threshing machine."
-
-Harvey paid no attention. His blood-shot eyes looked about the room,
-searching for something. His hand was shaking, and every now and then he
-ran his tongue over the withered lips; the blood seemed to have left his
-cheek.
-
-"I’ve changed my mind," he began huskily; "I’m not well—and I’ll take
-some of that, if you don’t mind. Just a little—but I’ve got to get
-braced up or I’ll collapse."
-
-Forrester whistled. "The spring’s gone dry, old man," he said. "I’m
-cruel sorry—but it was that little gesture of yours that did it."
-
-Harvey’s eyes looked around imploringly. The pungent fumes were still
-rising from the floor, goading his appetite to madness.
-
-"I’m afraid that’s right, Simmons," added Oliver; "there’s a teaspoonful
-there in the heel of the bottle—but it’s not enough to make a swallow."
-
-"Where is it?" muttered Harvey, starting to where the broken fragments
-lay.
-
-He found it; and even those who had tried so hard to overbear him a
-little while before cast pitying glances as he stooped down, trembling,
-lifting the bottom of the bottle in both his shaky hands, lifting it
-carefully and holding it to his lips till the last drop was drained.
-
-It was but a few minutes till he resumed the quest. "Must be some more
-lying round somewhere," he said, with a smile that was pitiful to see.
-
-"Afraid not," said Oliver; "that was the last."
-
-"What’s in that cabinet?" Harvey urged, rising to his feet.
-
-"No go, Simmons, I’m afraid," muttered Forrester; "if there was any
-round, Oliver’d know it—when he gives up, there ain’t any."
-
-Harvey got up and went over to Palmer, throwing his arm about his
-shoulder. "I say, old man," he began, controlling his voice as best he
-could, "you don’t know how bad I’m feeling. And you’ve got a flask with
-you, haven’t you, Palmer?—I wouldn’t ask you, only I’m feeling so tough.
-Had a hard time of it in the office to-night."
-
-Palmer looked hard at him. "If I had a tankful I wouldn’t give you a
-drop, Simmons," he said.
-
-Harvey winced. And he stood looking into Palmer’s face like a guilty
-man, his eyes gradually turning away in confusion before the other’s
-searching gaze. A hot flush of shame, not yet unfamiliar flowed over
-cheek and brow. But it was only for a moment—these better symptoms
-retreated before the flame that consumed him. "I’m going out," he said
-presently, his eyes turning heavily from one face to the other, his
-parched lips trembling.
-
-"If you’ve got to have it, I think I know a place we can get in—I’m sure
-I do," drawled Oliver, yawning. "But bed’s the place for all of us."
-
-Harvey was all alive. "Come on, old chap," he exclaimed eagerly;
-"that’s a good fellow—here’s your hat. It won’t take long," he added
-assuringly, moving towards the door.
-
-There was little reluctance on Oliver’s part. And a few minutes later
-the two went out together arm in arm, the victor and the vanquished—but
-vanquished both. It was Harvey who clung close, almost fondly, to the
-other; no memory of Oliver’s share in his undoing, no hatred of the
-assassin-hand tempered the flow of fellowship between them now.
-
-
-The morning had not yet come. But passion’s gust was over and sated
-appetite refused.
-
-"I’m going home," said Harvey, his voice unnatural, his feet unsteady.
-
-"Not yet," said Oliver—"let’s make a night of it."
-
-"A night of it!" exclaimed the other bitterly. "Good God, Oliver!"
-
-"Come on," said his companion doggedly. "Come with me—we’ll both see
-the thing through."
-
-"Come where?" said Harvey.
-
-"You’ll see. Come down this alley here—wait a minute."
-
-Three or four minutes had elapsed; they were still walking.
-
-"There," said Oliver, standing still; "can you see that light?—there, in
-that upper window."
-
-He saw it. It gleamed sinister, significant, through the mirk; blacker
-than the deepest darkness was its baneful light.
-
-"What about it?" said Harvey.
-
-Oliver said something in a low voice; then he laughed.
-
-Simmons turned full on his companion. The moon was setting, but its
-latest beams still shed a fitful light. And they showed Harvey’s face
-flushed and worn, the eyes unnatural in their heaviness and gloom. But
-there was a strange redeeming light in them as they fixed themselves on
-Oliver, the light of indignant scorn; any who had known his mother would
-have recognized something of the old-time light that had glowed from her
-face before the darkness veiled it.
-
-Harvey’s heavy eyes flashed as he spoke. "Oliver," he said, and the
-tone was haughty, old-time pride struggling against fearful odds as the
-sun writhes its way through the mist; "Oliver, if you’re going to the
-devil, you can go alone. I’m not quite gone yet, thank God. I’m a good
-many kinds of a fool, I know—but I’m not that kind—I’m not a sot. And
-Oliver," coming closer up to him, "I’ll admit I’m as much to blame for
-to-night as you are—but we’re done, Oliver, now. We’re done with each
-other—forever. D’ye hear, Oliver?" as he turned and started back up the
-shadowy lane.
-
-Oliver blinked after him a moment; then he went on towards the light,
-into the darkness.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXII*
-
- _*HARVEY’S UNSEEN DELIVERER*_
-
-
-The succeeding day was melting softly into dusk.
-
-While it may be true that none can utterly affirm, it is equally true
-that none can finally deny, the ministry of the dead. Probably none
-altogether rejects the thought except those who disbelieve in the
-immortality of the soul. For if death be but the disenthrallment of the
-spirit, and its engraftment on the infinite, how thus should its noblest
-passion cease or its holiest industry suffer interruption? We may not
-know; though mayhap we may still receive. If beneficiaries we are of
-the unforgetting dead, we are unconscious of it—and this too shall swell
-the sum of that great surprise that awaits us in eternity.
-
-Some unconscious influence had brooded about Harvey through the day.
-Except for a few brief minutes with Miss Farringall and Jessie, during
-which neither had spoken much, the long hours had been spent alone. And
-the solitude had seemed to teem at times; with what, he scarcely knew.
-Shame and discomfiture and fear had thronged his heart, and the day was
-one of such humiliation as cloistered monk might rejoice to know. Not
-that he was conscious of the process, nor did he even inwardly call it
-by any such name as that. But he knew that he had been beaten—beaten,
-too, in the very hour that had thrilled with the confidence of victory.
-More than once, recounting his defects one by one, and recalling his
-frequent vows, was he on the verge of self-contempt; against this he
-fought as if for life.
-
-As the day wore slowly by, the struggle deepened. A strange
-heart-chilling fear of the night began to possess him. Looking from the
-window of his room, he could see the westering sun and the lengthening
-shadows; both seemed to point the hour of returning conflict.
-
-He tried in vain to dismiss this strange misgiving. The sun crept slowly
-closer to the glowing west, and its silent course seemed to have
-something ominous about it, solemnly departing as if it knew the peril
-of the crafty dark. He tried to read, but his eyes slipped on the
-words. Turning to one of his dead mother’s letters, he sought the
-comfort of the loving words; but he found no shelter there, and the
-relentless thirst kept deepening in his heart. Then he tried to recall
-some of the gayer scenes of departed college days; their mirth was
-turned to ashes now.
-
-Finally, and with a bounding heart, like a fugitive whose eyes descry
-some long-sought place of refuge, he bethought himself of the Bible his
-mother had hidden in his trunk when first he had left her care.
-Reverently, passionately, hopefully he made his way to many a tree of
-life within it—but its shade seemed riven above him and the fierce heat
-still searched his soul.
-
-With a stifled cry he sprang from the bed, despairing of reinforcement
-elsewhere than in his own beleaguered heart. He would fight it out,
-though the fight should kill him. The strange sinking fell again upon
-his spirit and the unearthly fires burned anew within him. His lips
-again were parched and his shaking hand all but refused to do the
-bidding of his will. He had not tasted food throughout the day; yet the
-thought of food was intolerable. What tormented him most was the
-thought, presenting itself again and again, that if he had but the
-smallest allowance of stimulant the pain would be at an end and the
-threatened collapse averted. But he knew how false and seductive was
-the plea, and resisted. Yet what could he do?—this unequal conflict
-could not endure. The perspiration stood in beads upon his brow, though
-he was shaken with chills as by an ague. Defiant, his resolution rallied
-as he noted the symptoms of his weakness. A kind of grim anger gathered
-as he felt the deadly persistence of his enemy; and his step was almost
-firm as he walked to the door of his room. He locked it swiftly,
-putting the key in his pocket, stamping his foot as he turned away.
-
-This seemed to help him some. It made him feel at least that he had
-come to close quarters with his destroyer, shut up alone with his dread
-antagonist. Herein was the hopefulness of the situation, that he had
-come to recognize the strength of his enemy and the portent of the
-struggle. Had he been locked in the same room with a madman the
-situation could not have been more real.
-
-Suddenly a strange thing befell him. Some would explain it in terms of
-an overwrought nervous system, some in terms of a disordered fancy. It
-matters not. But Harvey heard, amid the wild tumult of that twilight
-hour—he heard his mother’s voice. Only once it came—and the sweet notes
-slowly died, like the tones of some rich bell across a waste of
-waters—but he heard it and his whole soul stood still to listen. He
-caught its message in an instant; the whole meaning of it was
-wonderfully clear, and his heart answered and obeyed with instant
-gladness. For it seemed to point the way to rest, and victory, and
-healing.
-
-He glanced at his watch. There was just time to catch the train; and
-without pause or hesitation he unlocked the door and passed out into the
-street. A word to a servant, to allay wonder at his absence, was his
-only farewell.
-
-What greyhound of the seas is swift enough to outrun the greedy gulls
-that follow? And what heart, however swiftly borne, can escape its
-besetting sin? It may ascend up into heaven, or make its bed in hell, or
-take the wings of the morning, or plunge into the lair of darkness—but
-temptation never quits the chase. Thus was poor Harvey pursued as the
-bounding train plunged through the darkness towards his far-off boyhood
-home. Still the battle waged, and still the fangs of appetite kept
-groping for his heart and clutching at his will. But he endured as
-seeing the invisible; and the City of Refuge came ever nearer.
-
-As they came closer to Glenallen—when they were almost there—peering
-through the dark, he caught now and then a fleeting glimpse of the
-scenes of other days; fences that he had climbed; elms beneath whose
-shelter he had played; braes he had roamed and burns he had waded and
-brooks he had fished, he smiled, as the inward pain still smote him and
-the dreadful craving burned—it seemed all but impossible that life could
-have changed so much, the evening shadows threatening before its noon
-had come. And he felt, in a dim unreasoning way—what other men have
-felt—as if he had been somehow tricked out of the sweetness of youth,
-its glory faded and its fruitage withered before he had known they were
-there.
-
-The streets of his native town were hushed as he hurried towards his
-home. Nearing the familiar scene, he paused, standing still. He felt a
-kind of awesome fear and his head was bowed as he crept close to the
-humble door. Suddenly he lifted his eyes, survey ing the
-well-remembered outlines through the gloom. And suddenly they seemed
-transfigured before him, speaking out their welcome in tender silence as
-though they recognized the heart-sore wanderer. It was with little
-difficulty that he effected an entrance, a half-hidden window in the
-rear yielding readily.
-
-The stillness within almost overcame him. Yet there must have been holy
-power in it; for the evil spirit that had haunted him seemed to retreat
-before it; and his groping eyes fell now on this familiar thing and now
-on that, each an ally to his struggling soul. He could see but dimly,
-but they were all beautiful, each telling some story of the sacred days
-that would come no more. He felt his way through the little hall into
-the room where he had last looked upon his mother’s face. He stood
-where he had stood before—and he looked down. Long musing, he turned
-and made his way up-stairs. As he passed the half-open door on his way,
-he could see the shadowy outline of the little store, as Miss Adair had
-left it for the night, the petty wares consorting ill with the
-significance of the hour. Yet the nobility of all for which it stood
-broke afresh upon him.
-
-Ascending the creaking stairs, he stopped and listened. It seemed as if
-some voice must speak—for silence like to this he had never known
-before. But all was still, wondrously still—this was the silence of
-death. He glanced into Jessie’s room; relics of her sore toil were
-still scattered about; all was as she had left it when she had started
-on her visit to the city.
-
-Then he entered his mother’s room. With head bowed low and with
-noiseless step, as devout pilgrims invade some holy shrine, he passed
-within the door. Then he lifted his eyes—the night seemed to stay its
-hand—and he could see here and there traces of his mother’s life, many
-of them undisturbed. An apron that she used to wear, folded now and
-spotless white, laid aside by Jessie’s loving hands; a knitted shawl
-that had so often enclosed the fragile form; the unfinished knitting
-from which the needles should never be withdrawn. Then he gave a great
-start, muffling a cry—for he thought he saw a face. But it was his own,
-moving in shadowy whiteness as he passed the little mirror—he marvelled
-at his timidity amid such scenes of love.
-
-He sank on the bed and buried his face in his hands. He was trembling,
-yet not with fear. But something seemed to tell him that he was not
-alone; no tempter, no turgid appetite, no relentless passion assailed
-him now. He was safe, he felt, like some ancient fugitive falling
-breathless before a sacred altar—but he felt that he was not alone.
-Some unseen power seemed to be about him, an influence so gentle, a
-caress so tender, a keeping so holy as time could not provide. He did
-not seek to reason with the strange sensation, or to solve, or to
-define; but his soul lay open to the mystic influence in helplessness
-and hope, the ministry of the awful silence having its way with his
-broken and baffled life.
-
-Almost without knowing it, he rose and made his way to the little table
-by the window; something dark lay upon it. The touch told him in a
-moment what it was—his mother’s Bible, that Jessie had begged him to
-leave for her. His hand trembled as he took it up; it opened of itself
-and he peered downward on the well-worn page. But it was dark, and he
-could only see enough to know that one particular verse was gently
-underscored. Fumbling for a match, he lit it and its glow fell upon the
-words:
-
-"Unto Him that is able to keep you from falling and to present you
-faultless."
-
-The message flashed upon his soul with the import of eternal hope. He
-closed the book violently, as if something might escape, and sank again
-upon the bed. He felt as if God Himself had spoken through the shadows
-and the silence. His face was again buried in his hands, but his heart
-was running riot with its exuberance of feeling, of purpose, of hope
-from far-off fountains fed. There gleamed before him a vision of the
-reality of it all, the real truth that a worsted heart may find strength
-somewhere higher up, away beyond this scene of human struggle—and that
-the most stained and wasted life might yet become a holy thing, again
-presented to the great God whose grace had saved it, a faultless life at
-last.
-
-Thus he sat, nor knew how long, while the regenerating moments flew. He
-was recalled by feeling something fall at his feet. Stooping, he picked
-it up; it was a letter, fallen from the leaves of the book he held. A
-brief search revealed a candle on a chair beside the bed. This he lit,
-holding the fitful flame above the missive now spread out before him.
-The letter was from his mother and addressed to him. A swift look at the
-date explained why it had never been sent—she had been busy with it when
-he had unexpectedly returned the night of Madeline’s party. His eyes
-burned their way over the opening sentences, all uneven as they were,
-the unsteady hand having found its course as best it could. And the
-gentle epistle had come to a sudden close—the letter had never been
-completed. But his eyes were fixed in almost fierce intensity upon the
-last words—probably the last the dear hand had ever written. "And I’m
-praying, my son," thus ran the great assurance, "as I shall never cease
-to pray, that He will make His grace sufficient for you and that..."
-
-He arose, recalling where his mother was wont to pray. Had she not told
-him, and had Jessie not spoken of it often? Beside his own bed, he
-knew—there, where he once had slept the sleep of childhood in the
-innocent and happy days of yore; there had been her altar, where,
-kneeling before God, she had pleaded that the keeping and guidance of
-the Highest might be vouchsafed her absent son. Thither he turned his
-steps, his heart aflame within him; one hand still held his mother’s
-Bible, the other the precious letter. And he laid them both before the
-Throne, sacred things, familiar to the all-seeing Eye, pledges of a
-faith that must not be denied.
-
-The silence still reigned about the bended form. But it was vocal with
-unspoken vows, the vows of a soul that unseen hands, wasted once and
-worn but radiant now and beautiful, had beckoned to the Mercy Seat. He
-could not see the bending face; he could not know the exultation of the
-triumphant one—but he knew that the dear spirit shared with him the
-rapture of that hour when his mother’s prayers were answered, when his
-soul came back to God.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXIII*
-
- _*PLAIN LIVING AND HIGH THINKING*_
-
-
-The day slipped past in quiet solitude, marked by the peace of penitence
-and inward chastening; convalescence is the sweetest experience of the
-soul and the outlook to the eternal is its rest. Harvey felt in no
-hurry to leave the pavilion-home, thronged as it was with blessed
-memories. But when the evening fell, a curious eagerness quickened his
-steps towards David Borland’s altered home. He had not visited it
-before. Drawing near, the first figure he descried was that of David
-himself, engaged in the very diminutive garden that lay beside the
-house. He had not noticed Harvey’s approach. A shade of pain darkened
-the eye of the younger man as, unobserved, he took a keen survey of the
-older face. For not alone was David more thin and worn; his cheeks had
-lost their colour, pinched and pale, and it required no special
-acuteness to detect how changed he was from the robust David of former
-years. Suddenly lifting his head, Mr. Borland saw Harvey close at hand;
-he dropped the light tool he was holding, hurrying to greet the visitor.
-
-"You’re as welcome as a registered letter," he cried in his old hearty
-way; "come on an’ sit down—there’s nothin’ tastes so good in a new house
-as an old friend. I’ve been hungerin’ for a mouthful of you. I was
-jest doin’ a little work," he explained—"when a fellow’s got to work
-hard, nothin’ makes it so easy as doin’ a little more. I’m goin’ to
-raise some flowers," he went on, pointing to a tiny bed; "nothin’ pays
-like flowers—it pays better than manufacturin’, I think sometimes.
-Here, sit beside me on the bench," for David seemed willing to rest.
-"How’s Jessie?" he asked presently, his general observations concluded.
-
-"Lovely," answered Harvey. "She’s visiting Miss Farringall."
-
-"So I believe. They say Miss Farringall’s lovely too, ain’t she?"
-
-Harvey pronounced a eulogy.
-
-"She’s an old maid, ain’t she?"
-
-"I suppose some would call her that," was Harvey’s rather deliberate
-reply.
-
-"Oh, that’s all right," David assured him; "I don’t mean no disrespect.
-Most old maids is reg’lar angels—with variations. I often tell the
-missus if I was ever left alone I’d probably marry again, out of respect
-for her—there’s nothin’ like an encore to show you’ve enjoyed the first
-performance—an’ I always say I’d take an old maid. Of course, I might
-change my mind," David went on gravely; "most old fools does, takes up
-with some little gosling that ought to be in school. An’ I’ve noticed
-how the fellows that yelps the loudest at the funeral begins takin’
-notice the soonest—they don’t most gen’rally stay in long for repairs,"
-he concluded solemnly, scraping the clay from his boot-heel as he spoke.
-
-"If Miss Farringall’s an old maid," Harvey resumed, "she’s one of the
-nicest I ever knew—and one of the happiest too, I think."
-
-"Old maids is pretty much all happy," pronounced David, "that is, when
-they stop strugglin’—but most of ’em dies hard. They’d all be happy if
-they’d only do what I heard a preacher advisin’ once. I was mad as a
-hatter, too."
-
-"What about?" asked Harvey wonderingly.
-
-"Well, I’ll tell you. It was at a funeral in a church—last year, I
-think—an’ after the service was over he came out to the front o’ the
-pulpit. ’The congregation ’ll remain seated,’ says he, ’till the casket
-has went down the aisle; then the mourners will follow, an’ the clergy
-’ll follow them. After that,’ says he, ’after that, the congregation
-will quietly retire.’ Quietly, mind you!" said David sternly; "did he
-think we was goin’ to give three cheers for the corpse, I wonder?" and
-he looked earnestly at Harvey for approval of his indignation. "But
-I’ve often thought, jest the same, how much happier everybody’d be,
-’specially old maids, if they’d only retire quietly."
-
-"I’ll have to tell that to the editor of the funny column," Harvey said
-when his composure had returned; "and I’ll send it on to you when it
-appears in the _Argus_."
-
-"I’m a subscriber to that paper now," David said complacently; "how ’re
-you gettin’ along?—like the editin’ business pretty good?"
-
-"Fine," Harvey assured him cordially. Then he told, as modestly as he
-could, of what success he had achieved and of his prospects of
-promotion.
-
-"Where you got the start was goin’ into it as soon as you left school,"
-David averred; "there’s nothin’ like gettin’ at your work early. That’s
-why I advise gettin’ up a little afore day—for other folks. You see,
-you’ll get the hang of it—of editin’, I mean—afore you’re set in your
-ways. If you want to succeed these days, you’ve got to take time by the
-fetlock, as one of them old philosophers said. That’s what makes all
-the difference between two fellows; one’ll waste his time gallivantin’
-round, while the other’s learnin’ all about his business an’ gettin’
-ready for somethin’ big. Now, there’s poor Cecil, for instance—you’ve
-heard what’s come o’ Cecil?"
-
-"No," answered Harvey, sitting up very straight. "No, I haven’t heard
-anything—has anything happened?"
-
-"Oh, nothin’ terrible important. Only he’s off for Africa—went last
-week. He was foolin’ an’ fiddlin’ round, spongin’ on his father—an’ he
-got into one or two little scrapes. An’ his father kind o’ got tired of
-it—an’ Cecil got a chance of some kind of a job with some company that’s
-buildin’ a railroad or somethin’ in South Africa. An’ the old man let
-him go—so he’s gone," David concluded earnestly, "an’ I reckon punchin’
-mules is about the highest position o’ trust he’ll be occupyin’. Let’s
-go into the house."
-
-"Is Cecil going to stay long in Africa?" Harvey asked as they walked
-along.
-
-"He won’t likely be back to tea very often," ventured David. "Jemima!
-I’m so short in the wind now," his breath coming fast. "I don’t much
-calculate he’ll be back till the walkin’s good—unless the old man
-fetches him," a droll smile showing on David’s face, as they entered the
-little house.
-
-"Sorry Madeline’s not in," Mr. Borland began as he sank into a chair;
-"she works pretty steady now, poor child—they say she’s a reg’lar
-dabster at that wood-work. She paints chiny too," he went on, pride in
-the voice—"I think she’s out at Hyman’s, burnin’ it, this evenin’. Sit
-down, Harvey," motioning towards a chair, for his guest was standing in
-a spasm of attentiveness. "It’s a bit different from the old place,
-ain’t it?" as he looked round the humble room.
-
-"It’s just as good," said Harvey bluntly, rather at a loss.
-
-"That’s where you’re shoutin’," David responded, something of his
-old-time vigour in the tone. "It’s jest every bit as good. When I’m
-settin’ here in the evenin’—I don’t work so very hard; they gave me a
-nice easy job at the office—an’ Madeline’s puttin’ on my slippers or
-runnin’ her fingers round my old gray head, when I shut my eyes I can’t
-tell the difference. Never did set in only one chair," he mused as if to
-himself, "never did wear but one pair o’ slippers, never did have but
-one Madeline to cure my headaches an’ my heartaches an’ everythin’ like
-that. An’ I like the lamp better’n the old sulky gas—an’ we’ve got the
-best pump in the county," he went on enthusiastically—"right out there;
-it’s far better’n the old tap water. So we’re jest as happy, Harvey."
-
-Harvey smiled, and lovingly, at the beaming face.
-
-"An’ I can prove it," the old man suddenly resumed. "I can prove it,"
-he repeated eagerly. "See that fireplace there?" pointing to the hearth
-on which the wood was already laid. "Put a match to it, Harvey—you’re
-younger than me. Set it agoin’, Harvey, an’ I’ll show you—it’s gettin’
-coolish, anyhow."
-
-Harvey did as directed. The shavings led the flame upward to the little
-twigs, and the twigs hurried it on to the willing cedar, and the cedar
-lit the way to the gnarled pine knots; these opened their bosoms to the
-flame and soon the leaping tongues began their glad crusade against the
-shadows, a revelry of sight and sound flooding the room with light and
-music.
-
-"There!" cried David jubilantly. "Tell me the difference if you
-can—ain’t that the very same as it used to be in the great big house?
-Didn’t I tell you I could prove it?—there ain’t no difference, Harvey;
-it’s jest the very same," he repeated once again, rejoicing in the great
-truth he found so difficult to express. "An’ that’s what I always
-trained myself to believe," he went on after a long pause. "I always
-believed in simple livin’—even when I had lots o’ chance the other way.
-Didn’t I, Harvey?" he pursued, gazing into the other’s eyes through the
-glow.
-
-"That you did, Mr. Borland," Harvey affirmed. "And that’s why it comes
-so easy to you now."
-
-"That was how I knew poor Mr. Craig was on the wrong tack," David
-pursued thoughtfully. "I spotted the signs as soon as they began; when
-he started callin’ his sideboard a ’buffy’—an’ when he began sayin’
-’blue mange’ instead o’ cornstarch; I heard him at his own table—an’
-callin’ ’Johnny-cake’ corn-cake—an’ referrin’ to the cuspidor when he
-meant a spittoon—when he began them tony names, I knew it was all up
-with poor Mr. Craig. When a man gets so dainty that his horses stop
-sweatin’ an’ begin perspirin’, he ain’t much good for common folks after
-that. That’s why Mr. Craig wanted so bad to be mayor—jest that buffy
-idea, same thing," David explained pityingly. "An’ then it wasn’t long
-till he made the foolishest break of all," he went on; "d’ye know what
-it was?" as he looked enquiringly at Harvey; "you’d never guess."
-
-"No idea," admitted Harvey.
-
-"Well, he began takin’ his dinner at supper time. Leastways, he began
-callin’ it dinner—an’ it’s a terrible bad sign when a fellow begins
-takin’ dinner when the dew’s fallin’. His old father used to say:
-’Well, I reckon it’s time to feed again,’ but Craig always said he
-guessed he’d have to go home to dinner—an’ he wasn’t never the same man
-after he begun that kind o’ foolishness," David affirmed seriously.
-"The only other man I ever heard callin’ supper dinner was a terrible
-rich fellow from New York. He had a summer cottage on Lake Joseph; he
-used to bring his own doctor with him, an’ his own minister—an’ his own
-undertaker. An’ he took his dinner about bedtime," David concluded
-mournfully.
-
-"Makin’ out pretty good at the newspaper business, Harvey?" David asked
-presently, some minor themes disposed of.
-
-Harvey pondered. He was thinking of many things. "Do you mean
-financially, Mr. Borland?" he asked at length.
-
-"Yes, I reckon so; you’re climbin’ up the ladder a bit, ain’t you?"
-
-"I’m getting along pretty well, that way," Harvey replied. "And I think
-I’m getting an insight into the business. They say the _Argus_ is going
-to change hands—but that won’t affect my position at all."
-
-"Pity you couldn’t get a-hold of it," said David reflectively. "But
-don’t worry about that, my boy. Don’t never be disappointed if success
-don’t come as fast as you think it should. It nearly always slips
-through a fellow’s fingers at the last—so don’t get set up on it. I’m
-gettin’ to be an old man now; an’ if there’s one thing I’ve learned
-better’n another, it’s how a man don’t have them things in his own
-hands. I believe every man’s jest runnin’ on the time-table that’s laid
-out for him; an’ he’ll spoil everythin’ if he tries too much to
-interfere. Often we think we’re terrible smart. An’ mebbe we are—but
-we find out sooner or later we’ve got to walk the plank, an’ it’s queer
-how we get jockeyed jest when we think we’re at the winnin’ post. We’re
-pretty handy with the rod an’ the reel—but God handles the landin’-net
-Himself. That’s why the biggest ones most gen’rally always get away,"
-and David nodded his head seriously as he peered into Harvey’s eyes.
-
-"I’d sooner win along other lines than that," mused Harvey.
-
-"Than what?"
-
-"Than the money way. That isn’t everything."
-
-"That there was a beautiful thing you done in the cemetery," David
-digressed suddenly. "That there was high finance."
-
-"What?" asked the bewildered Harvey.
-
-"You know," said the other—"your mother’s gravestone. I didn’t know
-nothin’ about it till Madeline took some flowers out one evenin’. That
-was lovely, Harvey."
-
-Harvey’s voice was thick. "That was the first money I ever saved, Mr.
-Borland," he said after a long silence; "the only money I ever saved."
-
-"Savin’s like them is holy," David said simply. "An’ I’m goin’ to tell
-you somethin’, Harvey," as he braced himself for the purpose. "An’ I’m
-goin’ to trust you not to tell any one—not any one in the world."
-
-Harvey turned to gaze into the earnest face.
-
-"I don’t know jest why it should be so hard to tell," David began
-calmly. "But it’s this, Harvey—my day’s jest about done—I ain’t goin’
-to be here much longer, Harvey. No, don’t now, please," he pleaded as
-he stretched out his hand towards the livid youth, already leaping to
-his feet. "Don’t, Harvey, don’t—but it’s true. An’ I’ve known it a
-good while now; the doctor told me long ago," he continued calmly. "My
-old heart thinks it’s jest about quittin’ time, it seems. An’ I don’t
-blame it a terrible lot—it’s had a long day’s work, an’ I reckon it’s a
-good deal like me, kind o’ ready for its rest," the tired voice went on.
-"That’s where the trouble is, anyhow," he affirmed placidly, "but I
-never told nobody—a fellow ought to burn his own smoke, I think, an’ not
-let it trouble other people. But I’ve told you now, Harvey—so you won’t
-be so terrible surprised when ... And besides," his voice breaking for
-the first time, "besides—I wanted to tell you somethin’ else, my boy—I
-wanted to tell you—how—how much I loved you, Harvey—for fear—for fear I
-mightn’t have another chance," as the tired face went downward to his
-hands, the hot tears trickling between the fingers that were so thin and
-worn.
-
-The room was hushed in silence as Harvey’s tear-stained face was bowed
-beside his friend. He spoke no word, and no touch of tenderness was
-felt except the slow tightening of his arm about the furrowed neck,
-holding the quivering form close in strong and silent fondness. David
-spoke at length. "I want you to come along with me, Harvey."
-
-"Where?" Harvey asked in a startled voice.
-
-"Oh, not there," said David, smiling. "You thought I meant the long,
-long road. No, not that; but I’m goin’ to the communion, Harvey—that’s
-what I meant—I’m goin’ to join the church."
-
-"I’m glad," said Harvey after a long stillness.
-
-"I nearly joined once afore," David went on. "I reckon you remember when
-I had that meetin’ with the elders—kind o’ run agin a snag, I did. An’
-mebbe I ain’t much worthier yet—but I see it different. I ain’t much of
-a Christian, I know—but I’m a kind of a sinner saved by grace. An’ I’d
-kind o’ like to own up in front of everybody afore—afore it’s too late,"
-he said, his voice almost inaudible.
-
-"When?" asked Harvey.
-
-"Next Sunday," answered David. "But I didn’t go up agin the elders this
-time, mind you—I wouldn’t," he went on stoutly. "It seems to me a
-fellow ain’t no more called on to tell a lot of elders—human
-elders—about them things, an’ his soul, than he is to tell ’em about his
-love-makin’; so I jest went to Dr. Fletcher, an’ I told him what I felt
-about—about Christ—an’ I said I felt like I’d had a bid from some One
-higher up. An’ Dr. Fletcher said no elder wasn’t to have a look-in this
-time. So I’m goin’, Harvey—an’ it’d be an awful comfort if you an’ me
-went together. It’s quite a spell since you was there, ain’t it,
-Harvey?"
-
-The fire had gone out upon the hearth. And Harvey spoke never a word
-amid the thickening gloom.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXIV*
-
- _*THE OVERFLOWING HOUR*_
-
-
-The light had almost faded from the sky and the stealthy shadows were
-settling down about Glenallen as Harvey strode towards one of the hills
-that kept their ancient watch about the town. He did not know whither
-his course was tending; nor did he greatly care, for many and
-conflicting were the thoughts that employed him as he walked.
-
-Still fresh and vivid, almost overpowering sometimes, was his sense of
-loss and shame. The defilement of his besetting sin, and the
-humiliation of a life so nearly honeycombed, and the tragedy of a will
-so nearly sold to slavery—all these had their stern influence on his
-soul. The bruised and beaten past rose afresh before him; and if ever
-human heart felt its own weakness, and human life its own unworthiness,
-it was as Harvey Simmons climbed that solitary hill amid the deepening
-dusk. Mingling with his sense of shame was the realization of all that
-it must cost him—for his manhood would refuse to claim what only a
-worthier manhood could fairly win.
-
-Passing strange it was that at that very moment, the moment of true
-self-reproach and humiliation, his roving eyes should suddenly have been
-startled as they fell on two white-clad figures that were climbing the
-hill behind him. One of them he recognized in an instant—it was
-Madeline—and his heart almost frightened him, so violently did it leap.
-He struggled to repress the rising tide—for the test had come sooner
-than he thought—but a thrill of passion swept through all his frame.
-
-Yet his resolve strengthened in his heart—the purpose that had been
-forming within him through many days. The resolve of a hero, too, it
-was; and the native strength of the man flowed anew, stern and
-unconquerable, as he made the great renunciation. Not that he loved the
-less; the more, rather. And not because he doubted that her heart
-answered, if perhaps less ardently, to his own. He saw again, as he had
-never ceased to see, the withered flowers in her hand. That picture he
-had cherished ever since, deep hidden in his deepest heart—patiently
-waiting, till his achievements and his station should warrant him to
-come back and drink to all eternity where he had but sipped before.
-
-He knew now that this should never be. He thought, and swift and lurid
-was the image, of his own father, and of his mother’s broken heart, and
-of the baneful legacy that had been his own—and of the shrouded chapter
-that had been so carefully kept from him, tight shut like the chamber of
-the dead. He knew, besides all this, that he loved too well to offer
-Madeline a life that was not intrinsically worthy; if accounted worthy,
-it could only be by the shelter of a living lie. Thus was his resolve
-taken, anguish-born. Yet his hungering heart cried out that it could
-not go its way in silence—this luxury at least it claimed, to tell its
-story and to say farewell.
-
-He turned and made his way downward to the approaching pair. Lifting
-his hat as he came close, he spoke Madeline’s name and stood still. Her
-surprise seemed to seal her lips at first, but he could see through the
-gloaming what inflamed his heart afresh.
-
-"I heard you were in Glenallen," her low voice began, "but I didn’t
-expect to see you. When did you come? Oh, pardon me, let me introduce
-you to my friend," as she spoke her companion’s name.
-
-He removed his hat again and bowed. One or two commonplaces passed.
-
-"Where are you going?" Harvey asked abruptly.
-
-"We’re going to see a little girl that’s sick; she lives on the first
-farm outside the town. She’s one of my class," Madeline explained, "and
-I asked Miss Brodie to accompany me—my friend lives in that house
-yonder," pointing to a residence near the foot of the hill; "it gets
-dark so early now."
-
-"I’ll go with you myself," said Harvey.
-
-"What?" was all Madeline said, her voice unsteady.
-
-"I’ll go with you myself," he repeated; "Miss Brodie won’t mind—we’ll
-see her home first. I wish to speak with you," and without further
-explanation he turned to lead the way to Miss Brodie’s home.
-
-Madeline’s protest came, but it was weak and trembling. And her
-companion spoke no word except to give assent. For there seemed to be
-some strange authority about the silent man; something in his voice, or
-manner, or in the drawn face that looked into the distance through the
-fading light. They could not tell; but they followed as he led.
-Madeline’s hand trembled as it made its way into her friend’s; a moment
-later she withdrew it, walking on alone. But her bosom rose and fell
-with the movement of that eternal mystery that so many a maiden’s heart
-has known, that none has ever solved. And her eyes were moist and dim,
-she knew not why; and now and then a strange quiver shook the graceful
-form, protesting, reluctant, half-rebellious, yet at the mercy of
-something she could neither fathom nor deny.
-
-Bidding Miss Brodie good-night, they retraced their steps and pressed on
-towards the outskirts of the town. Perhaps both wondered why they
-walked so fast, Madeline wondering, indeed, why she walked at all. But
-there was something indescribably sweet about the strange mastery in
-which he seemed to hold her—and her eyes smiled, though she was
-trembling, as she looked ahead into the waiting shadows.
-
-"That’s the house." These were the first words that broke the
-stillness, and they came from Madeline’s lips—"that’s where she lives,"
-pointing to a distant light.
-
-"Who?" and Harvey turned his eyes upon her.
-
-"The child I’m going to see—I told you."
-
-Silence still; and still they walked on together. Once she stumbled over
-an uneven plank. His hand went out swiftly to her arm, and as he
-touched it his whole frame swayed towards her. In an instant his hand
-was withdrawn; but not before a faint outbreak flowed from her lips. He
-looked down at her through the darkness—her face was deadly white.
-
-"I don’t believe I’ll go," she said weakly; "I’ll go to-morrow."
-
-He pointed into the darkness. "I want to speak with you," he said,
-striding on.
-
-A little murmur surged to her lips. She checked it. "Will you wait for
-me—till I come out, Harvey?" the last word coming slow.
-
-"I can’t."
-
-"What?" she said, her tone firmer, her pace abating.
-
-"I cannot wait," he said; "you can’t go in till—after."
-
-She cast a swift glance upwards—but his eyes were forward bent. He
-pressed swiftly on. She walked beside him.
-
-Suddenly he paused, then stood still. He listened intently; no sound
-but the desultory barking of a distant watch-dog. He looked about—and
-the voiceless night seemed to contain no other but those twain. He
-could see the blinking light in the window, the one Madeline had pointed
-to; it made the solitude deeper, like a far-off gleam at sea.
-
-"Let us go in here and sit down," he said, pointing towards a little
-clearance under the shadow of two spreading oaks that towered above an
-intervening thicket.
-
-They stepped down from the rickety sidewalk. And they crossed the dusty
-road, neither speaking; and the dew glistened on their feet as they went
-on into the thickening grass—and Madeline could hear her poor heart
-beating, but she uttered never a word.
-
-It is the glory of a strong woman that she sometimes may be weak; nay,
-that she must be, by very token of her strength. For her strength hath
-its home in love and in her capacity to love—there is her crown and
-there the well-spring of her beauty and her charm. Yet this knows its
-highest strength in weakness; and its victory is in surrender. And the
-greatest moment in the life of the noblest woman is when convention and
-propriety and custom—and the tyranny of the social code—yea, when even
-her own native pride, her womanly reticence, her insistence on all that
-a woman may demand, are defiantly renounced; when these all lie in ruins
-at her feet, scorned and forgotten by reason of the torrent of her love;
-when beauty’s tresses lie dishevelled, and its robes of dignity are
-stained with tears, then is woman’s wild eternal heart at its very
-noblest in all the abandon of the passion that sets it free from every
-tie save one.
-
-Wherefore Madeline—she of the beauteous face and of the snow-white
-heart—went on with Harvey where he led. Down from the pavement she
-stepped, down into the earthly road, reckless of the dainty fabric that
-the dust leaped to stain; and she walked on into the glistening grass,
-and her eyes saw the waiting oak and the vast sky behind. And the night
-was dark, and even the distant blinking light was hidden; and she could
-hear the soft language of the mother bird that kept her love-taught
-vigil, and the whippoorwill’s cry came in mellow waves across the
-rippling woods—and the great tender arms of the holy night were about
-them all.
-
-"Let us sit here," and Harvey motioned towards a giant log that lay
-beneath the oaks. "And I’ll tell you, Madeline."
-
-She raised one white hand to her throat as she took her place; even then
-he noticed the delicate tapering fingers, so well fitted for the work to
-which her father had referred. Something seemed to be choking her, so
-long were the white fingers held to the soft flesh above. The other
-hand went out absently, uplifted, and she held tight to the
-soft-swinging branch of the ancient oak, for the leaves bended about
-them where they sat.
-
-"Very well, Harvey," she said. "Isn’t it about father—didn’t you see
-him this evening?" Commonplace questions enough they were; and her
-heart had clutched wildly at them as her hand had seized the bough above
-her. But commonplace the words were not—a surge of fire made them glow
-and gleam, to him at least, her troubled soul sweeping through them like
-a flood. For her voice was shaking as she asked the simple questions;
-and her arm was still outstretched as she clung to the yielding
-bough—and the white fingers still pressed the quivering throat.
-
-"No, it isn’t about that," he said, his voice as low as the voices of
-the night. She never moved. But he heard, actually heard, her lips as
-they slowly parted—and her breath came as if she were resting from a
-race.
-
-"It’s about us—oh, Madeline, it’s about us," he began, and his words
-came swift, as if they were driven out by force. "You know, you know,
-Madeline, all that’s in my heart—all that’s been there for years. Ever
-since I worked for your father—ever since we went to school—ever since
-that night beside my baby sister’s grave—and since you came to see
-mother when she got blind—and since I went to college—and always,
-always, Madeline, through all the years. You know, Madeline, you know."
-Then his words poured out in a passionate stream, swirling like waves
-about her, and he told her what they both had known long, what neither
-had ever heard before. The maiden’s eyes shone dim; and one hand
-clutched tighter at the crushed and broken twigs; the other slipped from
-the quivering throat, pressed now to the paining bosom. And the moist
-lips were parted still, but the speech that flowed between was silent as
-her listening soul.
-
-"And I’ve told you the worst, Madeline," he vowed at length. "I was
-determined to tell you the worst, before I go away, before I go away to
-take up the struggle against my sin—alone. And to win—to conquer," he
-added low. "So I’m not worthy, Madeline—and the future’s uncertain—and
-I know it and you know it. And nobody but God can ever tell what it has
-meant to me to say all I’ve said to-night; and it’s all because I love
-you so... Oh, Madeline," and the strong voice struggled in vain to keep
-on its way; too late, it broke and trembled, the pain and passion
-bursting through it as he bowed his head and hid his face. "So I’m
-going away," he murmured low, "I’m going away."
-
-The sighing wind was hushed and the mother bird was silent and the
-whippoorwill was dumb.
-
-"Harvey, don’t."
-
-It was such a gentle note, barely audible, like the first faint cry of
-some wood-born nestling when it sees the light. But it filled and
-flooded all his soul. He raised his head, so slowly, from his hands; and
-slowly he turned his face till his eyes rested full upon her. The moon
-had risen and he could see her beauty. Both hands were lying now in the
-white folds of her dress, and between them were the crushed and broken
-leaves, their fragrance outstealing from their wounds. The branch she
-had released was still swaying to and fro. But Madeline saw it not; nor
-aught else beside. The veiled and glistening eyes were looking far
-beyond; he could not tell whether they were fixed on the darkling
-thicket or on the crescent moon. But while his gaze stole upward to her
-face a night-bird in the thicket piped softly to its mate—and he saw her
-eyes search the frowning shade. Then they were still. But he could see
-the radiance on cheek and brow, and he felt the life-stream that her
-eyes outpoured, aglow with the emotion of her soul. Her bosom rose and
-fell, nor did she seem to know—again and yet again the candour of her
-love spoke thus. And while he looked she slowly turned her head. He
-noted, even then, and in the gathering light, the wealth of lovely hair,
-the fair purity of her forehead, the mystic lure of her quivering lips,
-the throb that beat swiftly in her throat, soft and white like the
-lily’s bloom—but they all were lost in the glory of her wondrous eyes.
-These were transfigured; surrender, conquest, yearning, pity, pride, the
-joy of possession and the rapture of captivity—all that unite to make
-that mysterious tide called passion, looked their meaning from her face.
-
-Her breath, fresh from the parted lips, floated outward till it touched
-his face—and to him spreading oak and whispering grove and shadowy
-thicket and crescent moon had ceased to be. He saw her eyes alone, his
-soul swimming towards them through the torrent; his finger-tips touched
-her shoulders first—and she was there—and the soft form yielded, and the
-glory slowly faded as the eyelids fell, and the fragrance of her breath
-made life a holy thing forever as he drew her into the strong shelter of
-his love.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXV*
-
- *"*_*INTO HIS HOUSE OF WINE*_*"*
-
-
-They came up the little hill together. And many eyes were turned on
-them in wonder as they went up the aisle, David still leaning on the
-strong man beside him. It was Robert McCaig who took the token from Mr.
-Borland’s hand, and his own told its welcome by its lingering clasp.
-
-They were almost at David’s pew, Madeline and her mother already seated
-there, when Harvey stood still and whispered. "Let us go to my mother’s
-seat," he said.
-
-David’s assent was quick and cordial. He knew the sacrament of love;
-and the look with which Madeline and her mother followed them showed
-that they recognized the higher claim.
-
-Very beautiful was the service of that holy hour. The opening psalm
-breathed the spirit of penitence and trust. When Dr. Fletcher rose to
-pray, his face was illumined with such joy as there is in the presence
-of the angels when a new star swims into the firmament of heaven. And
-his prayer gave thanks for the cloud of witnesses that compassed them
-about, and for those who had gone out from them along the upward path of
-pain.
-
-Wonderful stillness wrapped the worshippers about as the elders went
-slowly down the aisle with the symbols of redeeming love. It was not
-his accustomed place, but Geordie Nickle bore the bread and wine to
-where David and Harvey sat. His eyes shone with a great light as he
-placed the emblems first in David’s shaking hand; and the moist eyes
-were upturned to God; and his lips moved while he stood before them in
-the grand dignity of his priestly office. The compassion glowing on his
-face was worthy of the Cross.
-
-David and Harvey bowed their heads together, the old man and the young.
-The one was touched with the whitening frost of years, the other with
-the dew of youth. But their lips were moist with the same holy wine and
-their hearts were kindred in their trembling hope. Before them both
-arose the vision of a Saviour’s face; but the old man’s thought was of
-eternal rest, and the other’s was of the battling years beyond.
-
-Harvey’s mind flew quickly over all the bygone days. Love and
-loneliness, conflict and respite, hope and despair, victory and
-overthrow passed before him—and all seemed now to have conspired towards
-this holy hour. He felt that the way had been chosen for him amid
-life’s perplexing paths; that an unseen Hand had been at the helm; that
-the prayer and purpose of another’s life had led him back to the path
-from which he had departed, fulfilling the design of an All-wise
-Sovereign Will.
-
-David gave a little start of surprise when Dr. Fletcher announced the
-closing hymn.
-
-"He done that for me," he whispered to Harvey; "he knows it’s mine."
-
-They rose to sing the noble song. The great words rolled slowly out
-from many reverent lips:
-
- "The sands of time are sinking."
-
-
-It was when they came to the soul’s great boast
-
- "With mercy and with judgment
- My web of time He wove,"
-
-that Harvey turned his eyes towards David; and his heart melted as he
-saw the tears rolling down the withered cheeks. David’s head was bowed,
-for it hurt him sore that men should see. But there had come about him
-such a tide of feeling—all his chequered life rising up before him—and
-such a sense of the abundant grace that had made the shadows beautiful
-with light, that his soul dissolved in gratitude to the Hand that guided
-and the Heart that planned through all the labyrinth of years.
-
-Other lips were still, and Harvey’s among them, when they reached the
-closing lines:
-
- "Amid the shades of evening
- While sinks life’s lingering sand
- I hail the glory dawning
- In Immanuel’s land."
-
-
-But those who were beside him marvelled at the strong rich tones with
-which David sounded the exultant note. His voice was no more the voice
-of age; and the scars of battle had vanished from his face. Strong and
-victorious came the swelling strain, and his uplifted eyes had the glow
-of unconquerable youth. He had caught the lights of Home.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXVI*
-
- _*A MISTRESS OF FINANCE*_
-
-
-"Some men are born lucky—and some get lucky—and some have the
-confoundedst kind of good luck thrust upon them," affirmed Mr. Crothers,
-nodding towards a letter in Harvey’s hand.
-
-"I’m just going to read this over once more; it really seems too good to
-be true," was Harvey’s rather irrelevant reply, his eyes fastened again
-upon the letter.
-
-"You’re dead right. If any one had told me, that night three months
-ago—you remember our conversation then—that you’d be given a position
-like that so early in your career, I’d have laughed at them. I don’t
-think I ever knew a man get as quick promotion in the newspaper business
-as you’ve had, Simmons. I really don’t. But then you’ve got the
-education—and the material above the eyes—and that’s the whole outfit.
-Well, I can’t do any more than congratulate you, old man," and the
-sincerity of Mr. Crothers’ words was evident as Harvey looked across the
-table into the deep-set eyes.
-
-"You’ve had more to do with it than anybody else, I’m sure," Harvey
-returned; "and I’ll do all I can to make good. I’ll expect you to——"
-
-"I’ll tell you something I’ve been thinking of for quite a while," the
-other broke in, lowering his voice and leaning far over the table. "If
-we could only get a hold of the business—the paper, I mean—the whole box
-and dice! The thing’s going to change hands, as you know; everybody has
-known that, since the president got the collectorship of customs—and it
-would be worth more to us than to anybody else. We could run it to the
-Queen’s taste—the whole shooting-match. But I suppose there’s no use
-talking—can’t make bricks without straw. Of course, I’ve saved a little
-chicken-feed—not enough, though—there, that’s my total," as he pencilled
-some figures on a blotting-pad and passed it over; "and if you could
-duplicate it—or a little better—we’d have the thing in our mitt. But I
-suppose there’s no use thinking about it?" looking rather eagerly at
-Harvey, nevertheless.
-
-"Out of the question," answered Harvey decisively, leaning back in his
-chair; "you can’t get blood from a turnip, or, as Geordie Nickle, a
-Glenallen friend of mine, would say, you can’t take the breeks off a
-Hielan’man. I haven’t any money, that’s the English of it. Of course,"
-a tinge of pleasure in the tone, "I’ll have a pretty good salary now—but
-what’s that for a plunge like this?" as he pushed the blotting-pad back
-across the table.
-
-"About as good as a dozen of eggs for an army," Mr. Crothers agreed
-disconsolately. "Oh, well, we’ll just have to make out the best we
-can—but I’m mighty glad of your good luck, old man, just the same."
-
-Both men turned to their work. Harvey’s first move was to ring for a
-stenographer. But he changed his mind. "I won’t need you for a few
-minutes," he said; "I’ll write this one myself."
-
-The letter closed as follows: "... So it’s come at last, sister—and your
-days of drudgery are past. They will always be a sacred memory to me,
-for I wonder if any man ever came to his own through as noble sacrifice
-as has filled all your life for me, yours and mother’s. Now, Jessie, be
-sure and do as I’ve told you. Sell your business—lock, stock, and
-barrel—or give it away; make Miss Adair a present of it, or rent it to
-her, or anything you like. Only one thing remember—you’ll rest now, and
-all my good fortune will be spoiled unless you share it with me.
-
-Your ever loving
- "HARVEY."
-
-
-Even Grey started with surprise when Harvey arrived home that night an
-hour earlier than usual. And Miss Farringall’s face brightened suddenly
-as Harvey’s knock at the door of her sitting-room was followed by the
-appearance of a very radiant face. He had a letter in his hand.
-
-"I want to speak first," she said impulsively, divining his purpose.
-
-"Yes, Miss Farringall," he said enquiringly.
-
-"It’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time—and I’m going to
-do it now," she added very softly, rising and moving to the window; "did
-your mother ever—did she ever speak to you about your father, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey’s answer was slow. "Yes," he said at length.
-
-"Did you know he’s living?" she asked after a long pause.
-
-"Yes," and Harvey’s voice was little more than audible. "My mother told
-me that when she was dying. Why?" he asked resolutely, moving to where
-she stood.
-
-"I only wished to know, dear," and her tone breathed gentleness as she
-turned and fixed her pensive eyes on his. "I knew he was living, and——"
-
-"Where—do you know where?" he broke out, almost with a cry. "My mother
-didn’t know, and——"
-
-"No, I don’t know where," she interrupted, her eyes now looking far
-without; "but I know he’s living yet. We’ll both know more some
-day—what’s in that letter, Harvey?" the voice betokening that the
-subject was dismissed, at least for the present.
-
-"It’s something you’ll be glad to read," he answered absently as he
-handed it to her.
-
-Deep silence reigned a while.
-
-"I knew it, Harvey," she said when she had finished. "I expected this—I
-was waiting for you to come home. I wanted to see you very much. Can
-you think what for?"
-
-"I don’t know," Harvey answered abstractedly, musing still.
-
-"Barlow," she called.
-
-"Yes, mum," a sepulchral voice answered from the hall, followed a moment
-later by the apparition of the never distant servant.
-
-"You know the vault, Barlow?"
-
-"Yes, mum," replied its guardian of years.
-
-"And the box in the lower left-hand corner?"
-
-"Yes, mum."
-
-"And the paper we deposited there yesterday?"
-
-"Yes, mum."
-
-"That Dr. Wallis helped me to draw?"
-
-"Yes, mum."
-
-"Then bring it to me at once."
-
-"Yes, mum," and Barlow turned in his tracks as he had done for a quarter
-of a century.
-
-He was back in a moment. "You can go now, Barlow—and shut the door.
-Take Grey, and don’t stand outside. Go and count the spoons."
-
-"Yes, mum," and the immobile Barlow departed to make the oft-repeated
-inventory.
-
-"I expected this to come, Harvey," she began as soon as they were alone.
-"I know the president of the _Argus_—or of the company, or whatever you
-call it. I’m not such a hermit as some people think. But I’ve been
-wishing for something better for you, Harvey—can you guess what it is?"
-her words ending in a nervous little cough.
-
-Harvey’s face showed how innocent he was of any such knowledge.
-
-"Well, it keeps running in my mind that you ought to own that paper."
-
-Harvey gave a little laugh. "That’s what Mr. Crothers was saying," he
-began confusedly; "he thinks we could do wonders if we had it between
-us—but of course it’s out of the question. It would cost—oh, I don’t
-know how much."
-
-"I know all about that," and Miss Farringall’s cheek had a strangely
-heightened colour. "I’ve looked into all that," she added in a low
-tone; "and do you think you could? Would Mr. Crothers really make a
-good partner?"
-
-Harvey stared. "He’s a jewel, Miss Farringall, every way—but why do——"
-
-"Excuse me," Miss Farringall interrupted with authority. "Let me
-proceed. I want to make an investment. I want to buy a business that
-belongs to you and Jessie. Sign that paper, please," as she handed him
-the document Barlow had brought.
-
-Amazement took possession of Harvey as he read.
-
-"Close your lips, Harvey—when you’re excited, breathe deep; it’s a great
-sedative," and Miss Farringall smiled as she watched his face.
-
-Harvey laid the paper down with a gasp. "But, Miss Farringall," he
-began excitedly, breathing as best he could, "the proposition is
-preposterous—a sum of money such as this for a paltry outfit like that
-little store in Glenallen! The whole thing isn’t worth——"
-
-"Be careful, Harvey Simmons, be careful, now," Miss Farringall broke in
-sternly. "You haven’t read the agreement. Maybe the price does look
-big—but did you see all I’m to get in return?"
-
-Harvey shook the document excitedly. "You ask the business—the stock,
-and the good-will—and neither the one nor the other’s worth one tithe
-of——"
-
-"Wait a minute," broke in the prospective purchaser; "I ask more than
-that. The vendor goes with the sale," she announced, rising to her
-feet. "It’s that way in the paper—Jessie goes with it; I buy her too. I
-can do what I like with the business—and Jessie comes to me. Yes," she
-cried, her voice shaking in its eagerness, "that’s what I want the
-most—and Jessie’s willing. I’ve found that out top—and she’s to be
-mine, to keep and care for. And she’s to be shipped here, right side up
-with care, and she’s to give me value for my money every time I see her
-sweet face and hear her merry laugh. I’ve spent a lot repairing this
-old house—but that’s the kind of repair it’s been needing for long
-years, and it’s going to get it now. When you get the purchase money
-you can invest it as you like; it’ll be your own—only sign, Harvey, sign
-now. I’ve got the price all ready," her voice ringing with merry music
-as she brandished a bulky envelope before his eyes.
-
-Harvey gazed long into the triumphant face. Then he moved slowly up to
-her, holding out his arms, and she put her own about his neck with
-hurrying, passionate eagerness and held him tight. When, released, he
-looked again into the flushed and quivering face, the swimming eyes
-seemed not to see his own, fixed in yearning on the silent desk that
-held the secret of the years.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXVII*
-
- _*THE CONQUEROR’S HOME-GOING*_
-
-
-"You’re wanted on the long-distance line, Mr. Simmons; Glenallen wants
-to speak with you," was the message that interrupted Harvey and Mr.
-Crothers in the midst of a very delightful conference; the future of the
-_Morning Argus_ was the subject of discussion.
-
-"Somebody wanting to congratulate you," ventured Mr. Crothers; "tell
-them the new firm’s flourishing so far," a smile of great satisfaction
-on his face. The fulfillment of the ambition of half a life-time had
-filled Mr. Crothers’ cup to overflowing.
-
-Five minutes later Harvey had returned, the gladness vanished from his
-eyes.
-
-"What’s the matter, Simmons?—nothing gone wrong, I hope."
-
-"I’ve got to leave within ten minutes," Harvey answered, stooping to
-arrange some scattered papers on his desk. "I’ll just have time to
-catch the Glenallen train. The dearest friend I have in the world is
-dying, they tell me—and he wants me."
-
-"Who?" asked Mr. Crothers, rising from his seat.
-
-"Mr. Borland—David Borland. You’ve often heard me speak of him."
-
-Mr. Crothers’ countenance fell. "I should think I have; I almost feel
-as if I knew him, you’ve given me so much of his philosophy. I always
-hoped I might meet him—what’s like the trouble?"
-
-"Heart," said Harvey, unable to say more.
-
-"That was where his homely philosophy came from, I should say," ventured
-Mr. Crothers; "it’s the best brand too."
-
-Harvey nodded. A few minutes later he was gone.
-
-
-The evening sun was prodigal of its beauty. And once, when Harvey
-lifted up his eyes to look, he could see the flashing windows of David’s
-old-time residence, its stately outlines showing clear against the
-sombre trees behind. But the little house on which his eyes were
-fastened now—where a great soul was preparing for its flight—seemed far
-the grander of the two. For it was clothed with the majesty of things
-invisible and the outlook from its humbler windows was to the Eternal.
-
-He entered without knocking; and Mrs. Borland was the first to meet him.
-
-"He’s sinking fast," she said, greeting Harvey with a warmth he had not
-known before. "He can still speak with us, though—and he’s been asking
-for you."
-
-"Who’s with him?" asked Harvey.
-
-"Just Madeline. We sent for Dr. Fletcher—but he’s away, attending some
-meeting of ministers. Mr. Nickle’s coming, though—he’ll soon be here
-now."
-
-Harvey stood a minute at the door before he entered David’s room.
-Madeline looked up and smiled; but her father’s eyes were turned away,
-fixed on the distant hills. The gaze of the younger man rested long and
-lovingly on the pallid face upon the pillow. Never had David looked so
-grand before. The thin, responsive lips; the care-worn face, compassion
-and sympathy in every line; the crown of silvery hair, so whitened since
-Harvey saw it last; the large, far-seeing eyes, homes of the faith and
-hope that had upborne his life and made it beautiful, out-gazing now
-beyond the things of time, calm with the last long peace—all these gave
-to the face that spiritual beauty which is the handiwork of God.
-
-Harvey drew closer to the bed. David slowly turned his head; his eyes
-met Harvey’s, and he held out his hand.
-
-"I knew you’d come," he said gently; we’re all together now—all but
-Geordie."
-
-Harvey’s answer was a warmer pressure of the wasted hand.
-
-"The sands is runnin’ fast," David said with a faint smile—"the
-battle’ll soon be done. An’ I’m pretty tired, Harvey."
-
-Harvey was still standing by the bed, bowed, still holding David’s hand.
-And the dying man could see the tears that were making their way down
-the quivering cheeks.
-
-"Don’t, Harvey," he implored; "this ain’t no time for that. Madeline,
-read that bit again."
-
-The girl lifted the Bible from the bed. "She knows the place I
-want—it’s John the fourteenth," David said, his face turned to Harvey’s.
-"We love all the places—they’re all beautiful. There’s lovely shade in
-the Psalms when the hot sun’s beatin’ down—an’ it’s all good; but John
-the fourteenth’s like a deep, clear spring, an’ that’s where we stay the
-most—weary travellers loves a spring," and the dying man turned his eyes
-eagerly on the book Madeline had opened.
-
-"Let not your heart be troubled.... In My Father’s house are many
-mansions; if it were not so I would have told you." Thus flowed the
-stream of love; and David closed his eyes, drinking deep indeed of the
-living tide.
-
-"Ain’t that beautiful?" he said, his voice thrilled with passionate
-gladness. "I like that about the mansions the best, I think. Everybody
-loves a mansion. I got turned out o’ one—the one our Madeline was born
-in; but this’ll be a far better one, an’ me an’ Madeline an’ mother’ll
-live there always, an’ nobody can’t ever turn us out. It’s our
-Father’s," he added reverently.
-
-Mrs. Borland was bending over him. "Don’t talk, David," she pleaded;
-"it’s too much for your strength."
-
-He gazed up at her. "I want to give a—a testimony—afore I go," he said
-falteringly. "I jest want to own up that I always loved God—lots o’
-folks didn’t think so—an’ He always loved me, an’ picked the path for
-me. An’ He made everythin’ to happen as it did; an’ I believe I’m
-thankfuller for the things I didn’t want to happen than for the ones I
-did—He seen the best, ’cause He was higher up. Madeline, sing for me,"
-he appealed with failing breath; "sing a children’s hymn—that one about
-the river," his eyes gently closing as he lay back upon the pillow.
-
-"He always loved that one," his wife whispered brokenly to Harvey.
-"It’s so simple. We can’t, David," as she bended over him, "we can’t
-sing now."
-
-"I can, mother," and Madeline’s voice was firm. The others’ eyes were
-hidden, but Madeline’s were fixed steadfastly on her father’s as the
-crystal notes came low and sweet:
-
- "Soon we’ll reach the silvery river
- Soon our pilgrimage shall cease;
- Soon our happy hearts shall quiver
- With the melody of peace,"
-
-and the dying lips broke in once or twice in a plaintive effort to swell
-the triumph strain.
-
-The singing ceased. But David’s eyes still rested on his daughter.
-Then they were turned on Harvey, as he stood beside her; they seemed,
-indeed, to rest on both at once. And their meaning could be easily
-read. Suddenly he motioned them down beside him; the girl was
-trembling, her pale lips quivering slightly, for she had interpreted her
-father’s look.
-
-David feebly raised his hands till one touched each bended head.
-"You’ll sing that hymn—that river hymn—often, together—won’t you; in
-your—own home," drawing the bowed heads closer down—"in your happy
-home?" he faltered.
-
-For a moment neither moved nor spoke. Then, in strong and passionate
-silence, Harvey slowly lifted his face till his eyes spoke their great
-vow to the dying man; and, unashamed, he placed his arm gently,
-resolutely, about the maiden’s bended form, holding her close with a
-fondness that kindled all his face with light. But Madeline’s was
-hidden, her head still bended low.
-
-David’s face was wonderful in its glow of love and gladness. Suddenly
-his gaze went out beyond the plighted pair.
-
-"Geordie!" he said, the name breathed out in tenderness as his misty
-eyes saw the well-loved form coming slowly through the door.
-
-The aged man came over, leaning heavily on his staff, his face suffused
-with a gentleness that flowed from his very heart. He bended low above
-his dying friend, dumbly groping for his hand. He still leaned heavily
-on his staff, for his outgoing pilgrimage, too, was close at hand. And
-the two men looked long without a word; the memories of happy years
-passed from soul to soul; in silence their eyes still rested on each
-other, but the troth of many years was plighted once again as they stood
-at the parting of the ways. And both knew the promise was to all
-eternity.
-
-Slowly David drew the strong Scottish face down beside his own. Then he
-said something in a tone so low that no other ear could hear; Geordie’s
-answer was in a trembling whisper—but both spoke a language not of time.
-
-"Lift me up, Geordie—Harvey, lift me up," David’s feeble voice broke out
-a moment later. "I want to look once more," his eyes turning to the
-window. The sun had set, and the gilded west was bathed in glory as
-they tenderly lifted the wasted form, the weary head resting on the
-bosom of his child.
-
-David’s eyes, wondrously lightened now, rested long on the crimson
-pathway. "It’s a lovely road to go!" he murmured, gazing at the lane of
-light. "I’m glad I’m not goin’ in the dark—things looks so strange in
-the dark. An’ I’m glad..."
-
-It was Geordie Nickle who bended low, as though he were love’s best
-interpreter, passionately listening for the ebbing words. The receding
-tide flowed back in a moment, and David’s voice came clearer: "An’ I’m
-glad it’s the evenin’—things looks clearest in the evenin’ or the
-mornin’—it’s the long afternoon that’s dark."
-
-Geordie was almost on his knees beside him, the strong Scottish face
-wrung with its depth of feeling. "Oh, David," he cried with the
-eagerness of a child, "ye’ll sune be hame. An’ we’re all comin’—we’ll
-no’ be lang. An’ oor Faither’s hoose has mony mansions—if it were na’
-so..." but the choking voice refused.
-
-"He’d have—let us know," the dying man added gently, completing the
-mighty promise. "It’s gettin’ dark," he whispered suddenly, looking up
-into Madeline’s eyes; "it’s time for Him to come—I don’t know the way."
-
-In a moment his whole expression had undergone a change, such a change
-as comes to darkening hill-tops when the morning sun loves them into
-life. Light covered his face as with a flood. The weary eyes opened
-wide, the eager hands outstretched. "It’s all bright now," he
-faltered—"an’ He’s comin’—He’s comin’, like He said. I knew—He’d—come."
-
-They were bending low about him; his weeping wife breathed a long
-farewell. But Madeline saw the last movement of the dying lips, and the
-yearning eyes seemed to bid her listen. Her face was veiled with
-reverent love as she stooped to catch the parting breath; it came, and
-her face became transfigured as by the light of God.
-
-"I’m jest home," she heard him murmur; "I’m jest home."
-
-Gently they let the dear form sink back to its long, long rest. Geordie
-softly closed the eyes, never to give their light again. Then the aged
-man, his frame shaken with the sobs he could not repress, bent down and
-kissed the furrowed brow.
-
-"His battle’s past," he said, the words struggling out like driftwood
-through the surge, "an’ he was a guid soldier."
-
-And the conqueror lay in noble stillness, the glory of the departed day
-abiding on his face.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXVIII*
-
- _*THE FLEEING SHADOWS*_
-
-
-It was long after midnight, and Harvey’s night’s work was almost done.
-He was the last one left in the office, and, as far as his duties were
-concerned, everything was almost ready for the waiting press. He had
-just snapped his watch with an exclamation of surprise at the lateness
-of the hour as he hurriedly turned to conclude his writing, when he
-fancied he heard a noise on the step outside his office door.
-
-He thought nothing of it; and the pen flowed faster than before. But
-only a couple of minutes more had passed when a similar sound fell upon
-his ear. And it disturbed him strangely. Perhaps he was nervous, for
-the strain of the night’s work had been severe enough—and he was alone.
-The sound, to his ears at least, had something unusual and ominous about
-it—yet he knew not why.
-
-He turned again to complete his work, his glance searching the room a
-moment before he did so. But the disturbance had come from without—the
-room was just as his associates had left it. He tried to concentrate
-his attention; yet a strange feeling possessed him—he felt in a vague,
-restless way, as though he were being watched. His office at the very
-top of the building was almost lonely in its separation; from the
-half-open windows the sleeping city might be seen, wrapped in the
-trailing garments of the dark. His mind seemed strangely sensitive,
-a-quiver almost, as if some influence were borne in upon him from the
-haunted chambers of the night.
-
-Suddenly, impelled by some mysterious impulse, he flung his pen upon the
-table and turned his gaze over his shoulder with a swift motion, fixing
-his eyes on the large pane of glass that formed the upper portion of the
-door.
-
-Involuntarily he uttered a startled cry—for he could see, two or three
-inches from the pane, a human face. And the eyes were wide, and
-fastened upon him with almost fierce intensity. The bearded face was
-pallid and haggard—but the eyes were the outstanding features, gleaming
-with a nameless significance that spoke of a soul stirred with passion.
-They never flinched—even as Harvey sprang from his chair they did not
-turn away. Nothing could be seen but the face—and the impact of the
-unmoving eyes was terrific.
-
-Harvey stood a moment, trembling. The face never moved. Then he strode
-swiftly to the door and flung it wide.
-
-"What’s the meaning of this, sir?" he demanded sternly. "What’s your
-business here?"
-
-The man’s eyes moved only enough to wander slowly about his face. He
-waited till Harvey’s lips were framing other words, his hand now on the
-door as if to slam it shut. Then he walked slowly in, his face still
-turned upon the other’s. He shut the door himself.
-
-"I want you to look at something," said the man, and the voice was deep
-and passionate.
-
-He was clad in the meanest garments; poor repairs were on them here and
-there. The signs of poverty were everywhere about him, and his whole
-appearance was that of one who had suffered much amid the billows of
-misfortune. He seemed to be struggling hard to resummon something he
-had lost—the quivering lips and the despairing eyes told that he had
-been beaten in the fight, yet not without stern resistance, nor yet left
-without flickerings of the old-time fire. His spirit seemed broken, yet
-not utterly destroyed.
-
-"What are you doing here? What’s your business?" Harvey demanded; the
-man was fumbling in the pocket of his coat.
-
-"I’m a printer," he answered, "and one of your foremen gave me work
-to-day. I only began to-night—and I came upstairs to see you. _I knew
-you were here._"
-
-Something in the way he uttered these last words clutched at Harvey’s
-heart. "I knew you were here," the man repeated, nodding his head
-slowly, his eyes again on Harvey. And they seemed to melt with a
-strange wild longing, following him with a kind of defiant wistfulness.
-Somehow, like a faint and fleeting dream, Jessie’s face—or an expression
-Harvey had often seen upon it—passed like a wraith between him and the
-bearded man.
-
-"Who are you?" he said huskily.
-
-The man’s eyes rested a moment on the floor—and he was trembling where
-he stood. Slowly he raised them till they rested on Harvey’s pallid
-face. Then they looked long and silently at each other, the dread and
-voiceless dialogue waging—that awesome interchange of soul with soul
-that makes men tremble, when eyes speak to answering eyes as lightning
-calls from peak to peak.
-
-"I’m your father," the low voice said at last, the deep eyes leaping
-towards him in a strange mastery of strength and passion.
-
-Harvey gave a cry and started back. The man followed him, straightening
-as he came, the hungering face out-held a little, pursuing still. The
-younger man retreated farther, gasping; and his eyes, like something
-suddenly released, raced about the unkempt form, surveying boots and
-clothes and beard and brow in an abandonment of candour.
-
-"No, no," he murmured as he kept creeping back, the man following still;
-"no, no, it cannot be."
-
-The stranger’s hand was outstretched now. Something whitish was in
-it—and something black. "Look," he said, his lips parting in a weird,
-unearthly smile, "look, and deny it if you can; it’s a photograph—and a
-letter."
-
-Harvey stood still; then took them from the outstretched hand. The gas
-jet was just above. He read the letter first—it was his mother’s
-handiwork. And the letter breathed of love, and hope, and of impatient
-joy at their approaching wedding-day.
-
-Then he held the sharp-edged tin-type up before him. And then he knew.
-For his eye fell first on his mother’s face, sweet with the new-born joy
-of motherhood. And a laughing babe was in her arms—and the man beside
-her, one hand resting on her shoulder, was the man whose panting breath
-he heard, whose burning eyes were fixed upon him now.
-
-"That’s you," the man said hoarsely; "and that’s your mother—baby wasn’t
-born. And I hadn’t ever drunk a drop then," he added, a bleating cry
-mingling with the words.
-
-Harvey stood long, looking down. Once the stranger put out his hand—but
-he drew back with the picture, gazing still. The tide of battle rose
-and fell within him. Then his hand shook like an aspen, his whole frame
-trembled, his sight grew blurred and dim. Yet through the gust of tears
-he looked again upon the haggard face—and again, more clearly than
-before, something of Jessie’s swam before him. A moment later, and his
-soul, surging like the ocean in a storm, went out in primal passion to
-the quivering man; swiftly, overmasteringly, as if forevermore, he took
-him in his arms.
-
- * * * * * *
-
-"If you’ll help me, my son—if you’ll help me, I’ll try again." The
-flickering gas jet still gave its light above them and the silent stars
-still watched the sleeping city. And the son still held his father in
-the clasp of a long-slumbering, new-awakened love.
-
-"We’ll fight it out together—and we’ll win," the lips of youth replied.
-"I know all about it, father—and I’ll help all I can. I promised
-mother—I promised to bring you, father. Mother’s waiting; and I said
-we’d come together—and Jessie, too."
-
-"Will Jessie love me?" the broken voice enquired, the tone plaintive
-with mingled love and fear.
-
-"She’s always loved you, father," and the son’s voice was thrilling with
-compassion. "We’re both your children," and it was pitiful to see the
-strong lips struggling; "we’re your children—and we promised mother."
-
-Thus the gentle stream flowed on. And as they talked a new peace flowed
-into the haunted eyes; and the blessed tidings of those he loved—of her
-whose sweet face was even now upon its pillow, and of the one who dwelt
-with God—came with balm and healing to his soul.
-
-"I’ll try, Harvey," he said again—"and I’ll trust your mother’s God."
-
-As Harvey guided him out into the night the quiet stars above him seemed
-to be the very sentinels of heaven. And he marvelled that this wondrous
-charge had come to him at last—over all the waste of years; and that the
-secret plan of the Unseen, its deep design unchanging, had entrusted to
-his hand the fulfillment of his mother’s prayers.
-
-
-It was night again; but beautiful. And if any of the Glenallen
-slumberers, a moment waking, heard upon the pavement the tread of two
-silent men, they knew not how holy was the mission that impelled these
-pilgrims of the night. They paused but once, these two; before a
-weather-beaten little house, empty now, its grimy shop-window staring
-out into the dark. But the older man seemed as if he could not look
-enough; like cathedral to reverent saint this squalid building was to
-him. Once the younger man pointed to an upper window—no light gleamed
-from it now—but the other’s eyes, even when they had left it far behind,
-turned to caress it with lingering tenderness.
-
-They passed together through the gate that guarded the little city of
-the dead. The moon was hidden; and no word passed between them as they
-made their way to the holy of holies where lay their precious dead. But
-Harvey’s hand went out to his father’s; and thus they went on together,
-hand in hand through the darkness, as children go beneath life’s morning
-sun.
-
-They stopped beside two grassy graves. Nearest to them, at their dewy
-feet, lay the larger mound; the baby’s nestled close beside it. The
-older man’s head, uncovered, was bowed in reverence; even in the dark
-Harvey could see the stamp of eternity upon his face. The son’s love,
-unspeaking, went out in silent passion to his father; so near he seemed,
-so dear, so much his own in that holy hour. Yet the broken heart beside
-him carried a load of anguish of which the son knew nothing; it was torn
-by a tragedy and rended by a memory no other heart could share—and the
-weary eyes looked covetously at the quiet resting-place beside the
-waiting dead.
-
-His tears fell—on the baby’s grave. He leaned over, as if he saw—first
-above the one, turning again to the other—and God was busy meantime with
-the wound, the long bleeding, unstaunched wound.
-
-Harvey touched him on the shoulder. He looked a moment into his son’s
-face, almost as if surprised to see him there. Then his eyes turned
-again to the lowly mounds, and he sank on his knees between them.
-Reverently, the yearning of the years finding now a voice, he stooped
-low till his lips touched the sod above the mother’s face. Then his own
-was upturned to the distant sky, the lips moving.
-
-Harvey knew the broken vow was for God alone. He turned away. The moon
-stole gently forth from the passing cloud; and, as he turned, his eye
-fell on the new-illumined verse graven on the simple stone:
-
- "UNTIL THE DAY BREAK AND THE SHADOWS
- FLEE AWAY"
-
-
-
- THE END
-
-
-
- * * * * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- *By Robert E. Knowles*
-
-
-_The Attic Guest_
-
-_The Web of Time_
-
-_The Dawn at Shanty Bay_
- Decorated and Illustrated by Griselda M. McClure
-
-_The Undertow_
- A Tale of Both Sides of the Sea
-
-_St. Cuthbert’s_
- A Parish Romance
-
-
-
-
-
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WEB OF TIME ***
-
-
-
-
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-<title>THE WEB OF TIME</title>
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-<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States
-and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
-restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
-under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> included with
-this ebook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="https://www.gutenberg.org/license">https://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws
-of the country where you are located before using this ebook.</span></p>
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-<br />Author: Robert E. Knowles
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-<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>THE WEB OF TIME</span><span> ***</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
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-<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p>
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-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">By</em></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics large">ROBERT E. KNOWLES</em></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="italics small">Author of "St. Cuthbert's," "The Undertow,"</em><span class="small">
-<br /></span><em class="italics small">"The Dawn at Shanty Bay"</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">New York Chicago Toronto</em><span class="medium">
-<br /></span><em class="italics medium">Fleming H. Revell Company</em><span class="medium">
-<br /></span><em class="italics medium">London and Edinburgh</em></p>
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-<br />FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">New York: 158 Fifth Avenue
-<br />Chicago: 80 Wabash Avenue
-<br />Toronto: 25 Richmond Street, W.
-<br />London: 21 Paternoster Square
-<br />Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street</span></p>
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-<br />My Daughter</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="medium">ELIZABETH ELLIS KNOX KNOWLES</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="medium">whose gentle hands, guided
-<br />from afar, have woven many
-<br />a golden strand into life's
-<br />mysterious web, this book is
-<br />dedicated with unuttered fondness.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<ol class="upperroman simple">
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-ashes-on-the-hearth">The Ashes on the Hearth</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-wine-press-alone">The Wine-Press Alone</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#love-s-labourer">Love's Labourer</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-riches-of-the-poor">The Riches of the Poor</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-flow-of-soul">A Flow of Soul</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#an-investment">An Investment</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#effectual-calling">"Effectual Calling"</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#of-such-is-the-kingdom">Of Such is the Kingdom</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-belated-enquirer">A Belated Enquirer</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#sheltering-shadows">Sheltering Shadows</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#food-for-thought">Food for Thought</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-encircling-gloom">The Encircling Gloom</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-dews-of-sorrow">The Dews of Sorrow</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-weighing-of-the-anchor">The Weighing of the Anchor</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-parental-parley">A Parental Parley</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#david-the-diplomat">David the Diplomat</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#friendship-s-ministry">Friendship's Ministry</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#voices-of-the-past">Voices of the Past</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-brush-with-death">A Brush With Death</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-restoring-of-a-soul">The Restoring of a Soul</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-heated-debate">A Heated Debate</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#breakers-ahead">Breakers Ahead</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#ingenuity-of-love">Ingenuity of Love</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-victor-s-spoils">The Victor's Spoils</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#what-made-the-ball-so-fine">What Made the Ball so Fine?</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-fair-sweet-morn-awakes">"The Fair Sweet Morn Awakes"</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-brother-s-mastery">A Brother's Mastery</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-light-at-midnight">A Light at Midnight</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#how-david-swept-the-field">How David Swept the Field</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-journalist-s-injunctions">A Journalist's Injunctions</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-trough-of-the-wave">The Trough of the Wave</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#harvey-s-unseen-deliverer">Harvey's Unseen Deliverer</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#plain-living-and-high-thinking">Plain Living and High Thinking</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-overflowing-hour">The Overflowing Hour</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#into-his-house-of-wine">"Into His House of Wine"</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-mistress-of-finance">A Mistress Of Finance</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-conqueror-s-home-going">The Conqueror's Home-Going</a></p>
-</li>
-<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-fleeing-shadows">The Fleeing Shadows</a></p>
-</li>
-</ol>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-ashes-on-the-hearth"><em class="bold italics x-large">THE WEB OF TIME</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">I</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE ASHES ON THE HEARTH</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"No, father's not home yet—go to sleep,
-dear," and the mother-hand tucked the
-clothes securely about the two snuggling
-forms; "don't ask any more, Harvey, or you'll
-waken Jessie—and go to sleep."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Simmons went back to the kitchen, crooning
-softly to the wakeful baby in her arms. Glancing at
-the clock, she marked, with an exclamation of
-surprise, how late it was. "He might be in any minute
-now," she said to herself as she thrust in another
-stick for the encouragement of the already steaming
-kettle. Then she busied herself a few minutes about
-the table; a brief pause, as if pondering, ended in
-her moving quickly towards the pantry, emerging
-a moment later with some little luxury in her hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor Ned, this night-work seems so hard—if he's
-working at all," she thought to herself, "and he'll be
-cold and tired when he comes in—hush, baby, isn't
-that your father?" as she laid a finger on the
-crowing lips.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The footfall came nearer, firm and steady, too—at
-which the anxious face lighted up; but a moment
-later it was gone, and silence reigned again. The
-baby seemed, in some mysterious way, to share the
-disappointment; in any case, it became suddenly
-quiet, the big blue eyes gazing up at the mother's.
-The unfathomed depths, as such depths are prone to
-do, seemed to start some hidden springs of thought
-in the woman's mind; for the anxious eyes that
-peered into them were now suffused with tears, then
-bright again with maternal fondness as she clasped
-the infant to her breast.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>For she dreaded the home-coming of her husband,
-even while she longed for it. The greatest of all
-books assures us that fear is cast out by love—but
-love may still fear something in the very one it loves
-above all others; some alien habit, some sin that
-changes the whole complexion of a soul. And thus
-was it with the wife who now awaited her husband's
-coming with a troubled heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It had not been ever thus. Far different had it
-been in the happy days with which her thoughts
-were busy now as she moved hither and thither,
-doing what deft and loving hands could do to make all
-bright and cheery before her husband should arrive.
-Those vanished days had been happy ones indeed,
-with nothing to cloud their joy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When Edward Simmons first crossed her path, she
-knew that her hour of destiny had come. He was
-then a journeyman printer—and he was handsome
-and chivalrous and fascinating; sensitive to the last
-degree, imperious by nature, but tender in the
-expression of his love for her. And how rapturously
-sure of the happiness that lay before them both!
-Passionate in temper he undoubtedly was—but tideful
-natures ever are. And he was slower to forgive
-himself than others.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She had been little more than a girl, a fatherless
-girl, when first she met Edward Simmons—Ned, as
-his friends all called him—and in less than a year
-after their meeting she gave herself to him forever.
-Then her real life began, she thought; but before a
-year had passed, it was new-quickened and enriched
-beyond all of which she had ever dreamed. Her
-first-born son came to swell the fullness of her joy,
-and Eden itself broke into flower at his coming.
-The anguish and the ecstasy of motherhood had
-come twice again since then—and she marvelled at
-the new spring of love that each new baby hand
-smites in the wilderness of life.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But the sky had darkened. When at its very
-brightest, the clouds had gathered. Steady
-employment and good wages and careful management had
-enabled her to garner a little, month by month;
-womanlike, she was already taking thought of how
-Harvey should be educated. And just when everything
-seemed prosperous, that awful trouble had
-come among the printers—between the masters and
-the men. Then came strikes and idleness—work by
-spasmodic starts, followed by new upheavals and
-deepening bitterness—and Ned had been more with
-the muttering men than with his Annie and the
-children.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And—this was so much worse—he had gradually
-fallen a victim to a sterner foe. A tainted breath at
-first; later on, thick and confused utterance when he
-came home at night; by and by, the unsteady gait
-and the clouded brain—one by one the dread
-symptoms had become apparent to her. She had
-known, when she married, that his father had been a
-drinker; and one or two of her friends had hinted
-darkly about hereditary appetite—but she had
-laughed at their fears. Hereditary or not, the
-passion was upon him—and growing. Lack of work
-proved no barrier. Little by little, he had prevailed
-on her to give him of her hard-saved treasure, till
-the little fund in the post-office savings was seriously
-reduced.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But there was another feature, darker still. It had
-changed him so. His whole moral nature had
-suffered loss. No wonder the woman's face bore
-tokens of anxiety as she waited and watched through
-the long midnight hours; for drink always seemed
-to clothe her husband with a kind of harshness
-foreign to his nature, and more than once she had
-trembled before his glance and shuddered at his
-words. Against this, even her love seemed
-powerless to avail; for—and it is often so with the
-mysterious woman-heart—she seemed but to love
-him the more devotedly as she felt him drifting out
-to sea. She could only stretch vain hands towards the
-cruel billows amid which she could see his face—but
-the face she saw was ever that of happier days.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly she started, her heart leaping like a
-hunted hare as she heard, far-off, clear sounding
-through the stillness of the night, the footfall she
-was waiting for. The child's eyes seemed to fasten
-themselves upon the mother's as if they caught the
-new light that suddenly gleamed within them; she
-held her babe close as she went swiftly to the door
-and slipped out into the night. The silent stars
-looked down on the poor trembling form as she
-stood and waited, shivering some—but not with
-cold—listening for the verdict her ears must be
-the first to catch.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She had not long to wait; and the verdict would
-have been plain to any who could have seen her face
-as she turned a moment later and crept back into the
-house. The stamp of anguish was upon it; yet,
-mechanically, the babe's eyes still on hers, she
-took up the little teapot and poured in the boiling
-water—the kettle went on with its monotonous
-melody. She had just time to hurry up and steal a
-glance at the children; they were asleep, thank God.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The baby turned its eyes towards the door as the
-shambling feet came up to it and the unsteady hand
-lifted the latch. The mother pretended to be busied
-about the table, but the eager eyes stole a quick
-glance at her husband, darkening with sorrow as
-they looked. The man threw off his coat as soon as
-he entered.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm hungry," he said in a thick, unnatural voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've got your supper all ready, dear," the woman's
-low voice returned. She tried hard to keep it
-steady; "and I'll just pour the tea. Are you tired,
-Ned?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He did not answer. Staggering towards the table,
-he began eating greedily, still upon his feet.
-"To-day's been the devil," he muttered; "I can't eat, I
-tell you—there's only one thing I want, and I've had
-too much of that. But I've got to have it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You didn't speak to baby, Ned," she said
-timidly, trying to come closer to him, yet shrinking
-instinctively; "see how she jumps in my arms—she
-knows you, Ned."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish she'd never been born," the man said
-brutally; "it'll only be another hungry mouth—how
-much have we left in the savings?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And she was trying to say 'daddy' to-day—and
-once I'm sure she did," the mother went on,
-fearful of his quest and hoping to beguile him thus.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's that got to do with it?" he demanded
-angrily, commanding his words with difficulty.
-"The strikers had to give in—and we went back
-to-day. An' the bosses won't take us on
-again—they've sacked us, damn them, and every man of us
-has to come home to his hungry kids. How much
-is left out o' what we've saved?" he repeated,
-tasting a cup of tea, only to let it fall from his
-shaking hand so suddenly that it was spilled about the
-table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's about three hundred, Ned," she said
-hesitatingly. "We did have nearly five, you
-know—we've used such a lot of it lately."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I want some of it," he said gruffly. "I've got
-to pay into the fund for the men—and anyhow, I
-want money. Who earned it if it wasn't me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Ned," she began pleadingly, "please don't—please
-don't make me, dear. It's all we've got—and
-it's taken so long to save it; and if times get
-worse—if you don't get work?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The pitiful debate was waged a little longer.
-Suddenly she noticed—but could not understand—a
-peculiar change that came slowly over his countenance.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Maybe you're right," he said at last, a leer of
-cunning on his face. "There ain't goin' to be any
-quarrellin' between us, is there? We'll see about it
-to-morrow." His whole tactics changed in a moment,
-the better to achieve his purpose. "You've always
-stood by me, Annie, an' you won't go back on me
-now. Hello, baby," as he tried to snap his limp
-fingers, coming closer to the two.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The child laughed and held out its arms. The
-father's feet scraped heavily on the floor as he shuffled
-towards it. "It knows its dad all right," he said in
-maudlin merriment; "glad to see its old dad—if he
-did get fired. Come, baby, come to your old dad,"
-and he reached out both hands to take it.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The mother's terror was written in her eyes.
-"Oh, don't, Ned—don't, please," she said; "she'll
-catch cold—I've got her all wrapped up."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll keep the blanket round her," he mumbled;
-"come to your old dad, baby," his voice rising a
-little.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But his wife drew back. "Please don't to-night,
-Ned," she remonstrated; "it'll only excite her more—and
-I can't get her to sleep," she pleaded evasively.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His heavy eyes flashed a little. "I want that
-young 'un," he said sullenly, advancing a little; "I
-ain't goin' to eat her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The mother retreated farther, her lips white and
-set, her eyes leaping from the babe's face to its
-father's. "I can't, Ned," she said; "let us both
-carry her, dear; come, we'll make a chair of our
-hands, like we used to do for Harvey—and I'll keep
-my arm about her, so," and she held out one hand,
-holding the baby firm with the other.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He struck it down. "Give me that young 'un,"
-he said, his nostrils dilating, his voice shaky and
-shrill.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She stood like a wild thing at bay. "I won't,
-Ned, I won't," her voice rang out; "good God, Ned,
-it isn't safe—go back," she cried, her voice ringing
-like a trumpet as she held the now terrified infant to
-her breast, the child rising and falling as her bosom
-heaved in terror.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His eyes, unsteady now no longer, never left her
-face as he moved with a strange dexterity nearer and
-nearer to them both. The woman glanced one
-moment into the lurking depths, all aflame with the
-awful light that tenderness and madness combine to
-give, saw the outstretched hand, felt the fumes
-outbreathing from the parted lips—and with a low
-gurgling cry she sprang like a wounded deer towards
-the door. But he was too quick for her, flinging
-himself headlong against it. Aroused and inflamed
-by the fall, he was on his feet in an instant, clutching
-at her skirt as he arose.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me that young 'un," he said hoarsely;
-"we'll see whose child this is."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The woman's lips surged with the low moaning
-that never ceased as the unequal struggle raged a
-moment, the helpless babe contributing its note of
-sorrow. Suddenly the man got his hands firmly on
-the little arms; and the mother, her instinct quick
-and sensitive, half relaxed her hold as she felt the
-dreadful wrenching of the maddened hands. With
-a gasp he tore the baby from her, reeling backward
-as the strain was suddenly relaxed. Struggling
-desperately, he strove to recover himself. But the
-strain had been too much for the ruined nerves.
-The child fell from his hands, the man's arms going
-high into the air; an instant later he slipped and
-tottered heavily to the floor, the woman springing
-towards them as his outclutching hands seized her
-and bore her heavily down, the man now between
-the two, the silent infant beneath the struggling
-pair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She was on her feet in the twinkling of an eye,
-tearing him aside with superhuman strength. But
-the baby lay in the long last stillness; its brief
-troubled pilgrimage was at an end. And the little
-dreamers up-stairs still slept on in uncaring
-slumber—nor knew that their long rough journey was at
-hand. And the kettle on the stove still murmured
-its unconscious song.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>*      *      *      *      *      *</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The evil spirit had departed from the man.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It had gone forth with the destroying angel, both
-with their dread work well performed. And the man
-knew—with preternatural acuteness he interpreted
-his handiwork in an instant.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And they knelt together—that is the wonder of
-it—together, above the baby form. Both noted the
-dimpled hand, and the rosebud mouth—both touched
-the flaxen hair. No word of chiding fell—from the
-mother's lips nothing but an inarticulate broken flow,
-sometimes altogether still, like the gurgling of an
-ice-choked brook.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But he was the first to declare that the child was
-dead, maintaining it fiercely, his eye aglow now with
-anguished pity, so different from the weird lustre
-that it had displaced. And she would not believe
-it, dropping one tiny hand that she might chafe the
-other, lest death might get advantage in the chase.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She was still thus engaged when he arose and
-looked about the room for his hat. It was lying
-where he had flung it when he came in an eternity ago.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye—till—till the judgment day," he said
-huskily, standing above her, something of the wildly
-supernatural in the tone. He waited long—but she
-spoke no word, nor lifted her eyes from the dead
-face, nor relinquished her stern struggle with the
-complacent Conqueror.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He went out—and was gone with steady step.
-She knew it not. Perhaps it was about half an hour
-later when he returned, opening the door gently and
-passing her swiftly by. A father's yearning sat upon
-the ashen face—he went quickly and softly up the
-stairs. Then he lighted a match, shading it at first
-with his hands lest it should wake the shut eyes—and
-while it lent its fleeting light the stricken
-man drank deep of his children's faces. Then the
-darkness swallowed them up, and he groped his way
-down-stairs and passed out into the night.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>It was still dark when she at last surrendered—but
-to God. And the fire was black and the house
-was cold when she too went out, closing the door
-carefully behind her. She groped about the little porch,
-feeling in every corner; and she examined the tiny
-veranda, and searched through all the neglected
-garden; she even noticed the fragrance of some
-simple flowers—they had planted them together, and
-the children had helped in turn, having one toy
-spade between them. But it was all empty, all still.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Ned," she cried softly, passionately, her
-hands outstretched beneath the all-seeing stars, her
-face now the face of age, "oh, Ned, come back—you
-didn't mean to do it and you didn't know.
-Come back, Ned," she cried a little louder, "come
-back to Harvey and Jessie—they'll never know. Oh,
-Ned," as the outstretched hands were withdrawn and
-pressed quickly against her bosom. For it pained
-her—with its mother-burden—and she turned to go
-back to her baby. Then she saw its still face in the
-darkness—and her hands went out again towards the
-night. The silent stars looked down, pitying,
-helpless; she went back to her fatherless and her God.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-wine-press-alone"><span class="bold large">II</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE WINE-PRESS ALONE</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"The woman's name's Simmons, sir—an' she
-took the whole o' this half plot. She
-keeps a little store, mostly sweeties, I
-think," said Hutchins, as he laid his spade against
-the fence. "An' there wasn't no funeral—just her
-an' her two children; she brought the little one here
-from the city—that's where it was buried afore she
-came here to live."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His chief asked the labourer a question in a low
-voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, that was all right," the man answered,
-picking an old leaf from a geranium plant as he spoke.
-"She showed me the original certificate she got in
-the city—or a copy of it, leastways; it said the baby
-came to its death from a fall on the floor. So that
-was all right—I asked the chairman. I couldn't help
-feelin' sorry for the woman, sir; she took on as bad
-as if it was new. An' the two little shavers was
-playin' hide an' seek round the tombstones afore I
-got the little grave filled in—she seemed to be
-terribly alone. It's funny, sir, how hard it is to get
-used to this business—I often says to my missus as
-how no man with kids of his own has any license to
-hire here," and the kindly executioner went off, spade
-in hand, to make a new wound in the oft-riven
-bosom of God's hospitable earth.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The hired helper had told about all that was known
-in Glenallen concerning their new townswoman.
-Indeed, rather more; for comparatively few knew
-anything of the little family gathering that had stood one
-early morning beside the tiny grave. The village
-was small—Glenallen had not yet achieved its fond
-hope that it would outgrow the humiliating state of
-villagehood—and its inhabitants were correspondingly
-well posted in the source, and antecedents, and
-attendant circumstances of all who came to dwell among
-them. But almost all they could ascertain regarding
-Mrs. Simmons was that she had come from the city,
-that she had two children living—as far as they could
-learn, their father was dead—that she had some
-scanty means with which she had embarked on the
-humble enterprise that was to provide her daily
-bread.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And thus far they were correct enough. For the
-first darkness of the great tragedy had no sooner
-overswept her than she began to shrink with an
-unspeakable aversion from all that was associated with
-the old life that had now no memory but pain. Her
-heart turned with wistful yearning towards some spot
-where she might live again the simple country life she
-had known in the early days of childhood. The cold
-selfishness of the city chilled her to the soul. She
-longed for some quiet country place—such as
-Glenallen was—where she might make a living, and live
-more cheaply; where her children might have a
-chance; where the beauty of God's world might do
-its share of healing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She had known but few in the city, simple folk—and
-they had seemed to care but little. Yet they had
-to be kept in the dark; and the careful story of her
-baby's fall had been an often crucifixion. They
-thought her husband had suddenly been crazed with
-grief, hinting sometimes at the cowardice of his
-desertion—and she made no protest, dissembling with
-ingenious love for his sake and her children's. Few
-were aware when she left the city, and fewer seemed
-to care. She had little to bring—one sacred treasure
-was her chiefest burden—and it slept now beside her.
-And Harvey and Jessie must not know that their
-father was alive—not yet. They would have enough
-to bear; and moreover, who could tell? In any case,
-was he not dead to them?</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She never knew exactly what was the cause of
-it—whether blow or shock—nor did she care; but she
-trembled for her children as it became more and more
-certain that her eyesight was failing. It had begun to
-be impaired soon after that very night. Yet she went
-bravely on, clinging to her little ones, clinging to
-life, clinging to hope—even to joy, in a dim,
-instinctive way. And ever, night and day, she guarded the
-dread secret; ever, night and day, she cherished the
-hope that her eyes might look again, if God should
-spare their light, upon the face she had last seen with
-that awful look upon it as it came nearer and nearer
-to her own. So her lips were set tight, lest any
-revealing word should escape to any soul on earth.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And it was not long till the curious residents of
-Glenallen felt that the stranger among them was
-acquainted with grief—but of what sort it was, the most
-vigilant never knew. Thus did she tread the wine-press
-alone, pressing silently along the upward path
-of pain.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And thus had the years gone by.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="love-s-labourer"><span class="bold large">III</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">LOVE'S LABOURER</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Cut him off another piece, mother—a bigger
-piece; that there chunk wouldn't satisfy a
-pigeon. Fruit-cake isn't very fillin'—not
-to a boy, leastways, and there's nothin' lonelier than
-one piece of cake inside of a boy that's built for nine
-or ten."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Borland's merry eyes turned first upon his
-wife's face as he made his plea, then wandered
-towards a distant field, resting upon the diminutive
-figure of a boy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, David," answered his wife, her tone indicating
-a measure of shock, "you're so vivid with your
-illustrations. It isn't artistic—I mean about—about
-those inside matters," as she smiled, rather than
-frowned, her mild reproof.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right, mother; it's true to life, anyhow—an'
-it all deals with his inner bein'; it tells of
-sufferin' humanity," rejoined her husband. "The
-smaller the boy, the bigger the hunk—that's a safe
-rule when you're dealin' in cake. Bully for you,
-mother—that there slice'll come nearer fittin' him,"
-he concluded jubilantly, as his wife completed a piece
-of surgery more generous than before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who was it hired Harvey to pick potatoes,
-father?" inquired Mrs. Borland. "How can he eat
-this without washing his hands?" she continued,
-almost in the same breath; "it's such dirty work."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You just watch him; that won't trouble him
-much. Boys love sand. It was me that hired him,
-Martha. He come right up to me on the street an'
-took off his hat like I was an earl: 'Can you give
-me any work to do, Mr. Borland?' he says. 'I'm
-going to make enough money to make mother's
-eyes well,' an' the little fellow looked so earnest
-an' so manly, I fair hated to tell him the only kind of
-job I could give him. I just hated to. But I told
-him I wanted some one to pick potatoes. An' Harvey
-brightened right up. 'All right, Mr. Borland,' he
-says, 'I'll come. I'm awful fond of potatoes, an' I
-can pick two at a time—three, if they're not too big,'
-he says, an' I couldn't keep from laughin' to save myself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter with his mother's eyes?" asked
-Mrs. Borland, as she tore the front page from the
-weekly paper, preparing to wrap it about the cake.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't like to ask him. The little fellow seemed
-to feel real bad about it—an' I never did like to probe
-into things that hurt," replied her husband. "Even
-when I was a boy at school, I never could stand
-seein' a fellow show where he stubbed his toe,"
-continued the homely philosopher, reaching out his hand
-for the little parcel. "There was one thing about the
-boy that took me wonderful," he went on; "I asked
-him would he work by the day or by the bushel, an'
-he said right quick as how he'd do it by the bushel—I
-always like those fellows best that prefers to work
-by the job. Hello, there, old sport," he suddenly
-digressed as a noise from behind attracted him, "an'
-where did you come from? You're always turnin'
-up at cake time. I thought you were goin' to ride
-to Branchton," glancing as he spoke at the riding
-whip the girl held in her hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Full of merry laughter were the eyes, so like his
-own, that sparkled upward towards her father's face.
-The wild sweet breath of happy girlhood came panting
-from her lips, half breathless with eager haste;
-while the golden hair, contrasting well with the rosy
-tide that suffused her cheek, and falling dishevelled
-on her shoulders, and the very aroma of health and
-vitality that distilled from her whole form, tall and
-lithe and graceful as it was, might amply justify the
-pride that marked her father's gaze.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So I was," the chiming voice rejoined. "But I
-turned back. I despise a coward." The eyes flashed
-as she spoke. "And Cecil Craig's one—he's a real
-one," she elaborated warmly. "We met a threshing
-engine half-way out—and of course I was going to
-ride past it. But he wouldn't—he got off and tied his
-horse to a tree. And it broke the lines and got away.
-I was so glad—and I rode on, and Doctor threw me,"
-rubbing her knee sympathetically as she spoke;
-"that's what made me so glad his own horse got
-away," she affirmed savagely, "and the two engine
-men stopped and caught Doctor for me and I got on
-him again—astride this time—and I made him walk
-right up and smell the engine; and Cecil had to walk
-home. The men told him to touch himself up with
-his whip and it wouldn't take him long—and that
-made him awful mad. You see, they knew he was a
-coward. Who's that fruit-cake for?" she inquired
-suddenly, flinging her gloves vigorously towards the
-hat-stand. "I'll just try a piece myself—fruit-cake's
-good for a sore knee," and she attacked it with the
-dexterity that marks the opening teens.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's for a little boy that's workin' in the field—little
-Harvey Simmons. He's pickin' potatoes, an' I
-thought a little refreshment wouldn't hurt him," her
-father answered, pointing fieldward as he spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know him," the maiden mumbled, her mouth
-full of the chosen remedy; "he goes to school—and
-he always spells everybody down," she added as
-enthusiastically as the aforesaid treatment would
-permit. "Let me take it out to him, father," the
-utterance clearing somewhat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The father was already handing her the dainty
-parcel when her mother intervened. "No, Madeline, it's
-not necessary for you to take it. It's hardly the
-correct thing, child; I'll call Julia—she can take it out."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tisn't necessary, mother," quoted her husband.
-"I want this here cake to mean something. I'll just
-take it myself," and in a moment he was striding
-energetically across the intervening paddock, the
-untiring form of the little labourer alternately rising and
-falling as he plied his laborious toil.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your father is the best-hearted man in the
-county, Madeline," Mrs. Borland ventured when her
-husband was out of hearing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He's the best man in the world," the girl
-amended fervently; "and Cecil says his father's a
-member of the Church and mine isn't," she went on
-more vehemently; "he said father didn't believe the
-right things—and I just told him they weren't the
-right things if my father didn't believe them, and I
-wouldn't believe them either," the youthful heretic
-affirmed. "Lally Kerr told me Cecil's father made
-some poor people give him money for rent that they
-needed for a stove—I didn't want to tell Cecil that,
-but when he said his father believed all the right
-things I told him my father did all the good things,
-and he was kind to the poor—and I told him he was
-kind to them because he was poor once himself and
-used to work so hard with his hands, and——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, child," and the mother frowned a little,
-"where did you get that idea? Who told you that?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Father told me," replied the child promptly.
-"He told me himself, and I think I heard him
-telling Cecil's father that once too—Cecil's father
-wanted not to give so much money to the men that
-worked for him. I think they were talking about
-that, and that was when father said it," the
-unconscious face looking proudly up into her mother's.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't need to speak about it, dear; it
-doesn't sound well to be—to be boasting about your
-father, you know. Now run away and get ready for
-lunch; father 'll be back in a minute."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The child turned to go upstairs, singing as she
-went, forgetful of the mild debate and blissfully
-ignorant of all the human tumult that lay behind it,
-conscious only of a vague happiness at thought of
-the great heart whose cause she had championed in
-her childish way. Less of contented joy was on the
-mother's face as she looked with half exultant eyes
-upon the luxury about her, trophies of the wealth
-that had been so welcome though so late.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Prompted by the conversation with Madeline, her
-mind roamed swiftly over the bygone years; the
-privations of her early married life, the growing
-comfort that her husband's toil had brought, the
-trembling venture into the world of manufacture, the
-ensuing struggle, the impending failure, the turning
-tide, the abundant flow that followed—and all the
-fairy-land into which increasing wealth had borne
-her. Of all this she thought as she stood amid the
-spoils—and of the altered ways and loftier friends,
-of the whirl and charm of fashion, of the bewildering
-entrance into such circles of society as their little
-town afforded, long envied from afar, now pouring
-their wine and oil into still unhealing wounds.
-Dimly, too, it was borne in upon her that her
-husband's heart, lagging behind her own, had been
-content to tarry among the simple realities of old,
-unspoiled by the tardy success that had brought with
-it no sense of shame for the humble days of yore,
-and had left unaltered the simplicity of an honest,
-kindly heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Her husband, in the meantime, had arrived at the
-side of his youthful employee, his pace quickening
-as he came nearer to the lad, the corners of his
-mouth relaxing in a sort of unconscious smile that
-bespoke the pleasure the errand gave him. Absorbed
-in his work, and hearing only the rattle of the
-potatoes as they fell steadily into the pail beside
-him, the boy had not caught the approaching footfalls;
-he gave a little jump as Mr. Borland called
-him by his name.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Here's a little something for you, my boy—the
-missus sent it out."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey straightened himself up, clapped his
-hands together to shake the dust from them, and
-gravely thanked his employer as he received the
-little package. Slowly unwrapping it, his eye
-brightened as it fell on a sight so unfamiliar; in an
-instant one of the slices was at his lips, a gaping
-wound in evidence as it was withdrawn. A moment
-later the boy ceased chewing, then slowly resumed
-the operation; but now the paper was refolded over
-the remaining cake, and Harvey gently stowed it
-away in the pocket of his blouse.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter?" inquired Mr. Borland
-anxiously. "Aren't you well—or isn't it good?" The
-boy smiled his answer; other reply was unnecessary
-and inadequate.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Goin' to take it home?" the man asked
-curiously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir. I'm just going to keep it a little while,"
-the youngster replied, looking manfully upward as he
-spoke, a little gulp bespeaking the final doom of the
-morsel he had taken. "You don't mind, sir?" he
-added respectfully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Me mind! What would I mind for? You're
-quite right, my boy—it's a mighty good thing when
-a fellow finds out as young as you are that he can't
-eat his cake and have it too; it takes most of us a
-lifetime to learn that. How old are you, Harvey—isn't
-that your name?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir. I'm most fourteen," the boy answered,
-stooping again to resume his work.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you go to school?" the man inquired presently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mostly in the winter, sir; not very much in the
-summer. But I do all I can. You see, I have to
-help my mother in the store when she needs me.
-But I'm going to try the entrance next summer," he
-added quickly, the light of ambition on his face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is your mother's store?" asked Mr. Borland.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's that little store on George Street, next to the
-Chinese laundry. It has a red door—and there's a
-candy monkey in the window," he hastened to add,
-this last identification proffered with much
-enthusiasm.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A considerable silence followed, broken only by
-the rattling potatoes as they fell. "Mr. Borland,
-could you give me work in your factory?" the boy
-inquired suddenly, not pausing for an instant in his
-work.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"In the factory!" echoed Mr. Borland. "I
-thought you were going to school."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I could work after four," replied the boy.
-"There's two hours left."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Borland gazed thoughtfully for a moment.
-"'Twouldn't leave you much time to play," he said,
-smiling down at Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't need an awful lot of play," the boy
-returned gravely; "I never got very much used to it.
-Besides, I've got a lot of games when I'm delivering
-little parcels for mother—games that I made up
-myself. Sometimes I play I'm going round calling
-soldiers out because there's going to be a war—and
-sometimes I play I'm Death," he added solemnly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Play you're Death!" cried the startled man.
-"What on earth do you mean by that? I thought
-no one ever played that game but once," he
-concluded, as much to himself as to the boy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it's this way, you see—it's one of the
-headlines in the copy-book that pale Death knocks
-with—with—impartial steps at the big houses and the
-little cottages—something like that, anyhow. And it's
-a good deal the same with me," the boy responded
-gravely, looking up a moment as he spoke. "It's a
-real interesting game when you understand it. Of
-course I'm not very pale," he continued slowly, "but
-I can feel pretty pale when I want to," he concluded,
-smiling at the fancy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Borland was decidedly interested. And well
-he might have been. For there was just enough of
-the same mystic fire in his own heart, untutored
-though it was, to reveal to him the beauty that
-glowed upon the boyish face before him. The lad
-was tall for his years, well-formed, lithe, muscular;
-dishevelled by his stooping toil, a wealth of nut-brown
-hair fell over an ample forehead, almost overshading
-the large blue eyes that were filled with the peculiar
-shining light which portrays the poetic mind. His
-features were large, not marked by any particular
-refinement, significant rather of the necessity—yet also
-of the capacity—for moral struggle; distended nostrils,
-marking fullness of life and passion, sensitive to the
-varying emotions that showed first in the wonderful
-eyes; a deep furrow ran from nose to lips, the latter
-large and full of rich red blood, but finely formed,
-curving away to delicate expression at either side,
-significant of a nature keenly alive to all that life
-might have to give—such lips as eloquence requires,
-yet fitted well together, expressive of an inner spirit
-capable of the firmness it might sorely need.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Could you drive a horse, lad?" the man suddenly
-inquired, after a long survey of the unconscious
-youth.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey hesitated. "I think I could, sir, if the
-horse was willing. Sometimes we play horse at
-school, and I get along pretty well."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Borland looked keenly, but in vain, for any
-trace of merriment on the half-hidden face. "I
-drove the butcher boy's horse once or twice, too.
-And I managed all right, except when it backed
-up—I hate to drive them when they're backing up,"
-the boy added seriously, with the air of an
-experienced horseman.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Borland laughed. "That's jest where it comes
-in," he said; "any one can drive anything when it's
-goin' ahead—it's when things is goin' back that tries
-your mettle. I'll see what I can do. Some of our
-horses drives frontwards—horses is pretty evenly
-divided between the kind that goes frontwards and
-them that won't," he mused aloud as he walked
-away. "I've struck a heap of the last kind—they
-backed up pretty hard when I was your age,"
-Harvey could just overhear as he plucked the dead
-vines from another mound and outthrew its lurking
-treasures.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-riches-of-the-poor"><span class="bold large">IV</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE RICHES OF THE POOR</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The retreating figure had no sooner gained
-the house in the distance than Harvey
-began to cast glances, eager and expectant,
-towards the road that skirted the outer edge of the
-field in which he was working. Once or twice he
-straightened up, wincing a little with the ache that
-long stooping brings, and peered intently towards
-the top of a distant hill beyond which he could not
-see. Suddenly his eye brightened, and a muffled
-exclamation of pleasure broke from his lips, for the
-vision he longed for had appeared. Yet it was
-commonplace enough—only a coloured sunbonnet, some
-four or five feet from the ground, and swaying a little
-uncertainly in the noontide light. But it was
-moving nearer, ever nearer, to the waiting boy, who
-knew the love that lent strength to the little feet
-and girded the tiny hands which bore something for
-himself.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The girlish form was now well beyond the curving
-hill, trudging bravely on; and Harvey saw, or
-thought he saw, the happy smile upon the eager
-face, the pace quickening as she caught sight of her
-brother in the distance. Harvey's eyes filled with
-tenderness as he gazed upon the approaching child;
-for the poor, if they love and are loved again, know
-more of life's real wealth than the deluded rich.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes more and she was at the bars,
-panting but radiant. Harvey ran to lay them down,
-taking the bundles from her hands. "Oh, but my
-arms ache so," the girl said, as she sank upon the
-grass; "it must be lovely to have a horse."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Some day we will," her brother returned abruptly.
-"You just wait and see—and then you won't ever
-walk anywhere. But you oughtn't to carry these all
-this way, Jessie; I could bring it in my pocket just
-as well."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The girl's face clouded a little. "But then it gets
-so cold, Harvey—and what's in there ought to be
-nice and warm," she said hopefully, nodding towards
-the pail. "Mother heated the can just when we put
-it in, and I came as fast as ever I could, so it
-wouldn't cool—and I held it in the hot sun all the
-time," she concluded triumphantly, proud of her
-ingenuity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's lovely, Jessie," replied the boy; "and
-you're quite right," he went on, noticing the flitting
-sign of disappointment. "I just hate cold things—and
-I just love them hot," he affirmed as he removed
-the lid.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie bended eagerly over it and the faint steam
-that arose was as beautiful to her eyes as was ever
-ascending incense to priestly ministrant.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's hot, Harvey! I thought it would be," she
-cried. "Mother was so anxious for you to have a
-nice dinner—I knew that was what you liked," as an
-exclamation of delight came from the boy. "Mother
-said she never saw such a boy for meat-pies as you.
-And there's something further down, that you like
-too—they're under a saucer, and they have butter
-and sugar both, on them. No, you'd never guess
-what it is—oh, that's not fair," she cried, "you're
-smelling; any one can guess what it is if they smell,"
-laughing merrily as she tried to withdraw the pail
-beyond the range of his olfactory powers.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's pancakes!" pronounced her brother, sniffing
-still.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, of course—but you never would have
-guessed. Mother made them the very last thing
-before I started. And I cried when she was putting
-them in—oh, Harvey, it was so sad," the girl burst
-out with trembling voice, her hands going to her
-face as she spoke. "And mother cried too," she
-added, looking out at her brother through swimming
-eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey halted in his attack. "What for? What
-were you crying about?" he asked earnestly, the food
-still untasted.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It was about mother's eyes. You see, she put
-the pancakes on the table beside the stove—and
-there was a pile of table mats beside them. Well,
-when mother went to put them into the pail, she
-took up the mats instead—never knew the difference
-till she felt them. And I could see how sad it made
-her—she said she was afraid she soon wouldn't see
-at all; and I just couldn't keep from crying. Oh,
-Harvey," the shaking voice went eagerly on, "don't
-you think we'll soon be able to send her to the city
-to see the doctor there?—everybody says he could
-cure the right eye anyhow; mother thinks the left
-one's gone. Don't you think we will, Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey looked into space, a large slice of the
-tempting pie still in his hand. "I'm hoping so," he
-said—"I made almost thirty cents this morning; I
-counted it up just before you came—and there's the
-two dollars I made picking raspberries that mother
-doesn't know about—it's in that knot-hole in the
-closet upstairs, you know. And maybe Mr. Borland's
-going to give me more work—I asked him,
-and then——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I told mother I was going to sell Muffy," his
-sister broke in impulsively. "But she said I
-mustn't; I guess she's awful fond of Muffy, she cried
-so hard."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd hate to sell Muffy," the boy responded judicially;
-"she's the only one that always lays big eggs.
-And then, besides, they might kill her and eat her
-up—rich people nearly always do their hens that
-way." Two pairs of eyes darkened at thought of a
-tragedy so dread.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We wouldn't, even if we was rich, would we,
-Harvey?" the girl resumed earnestly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not with Muffy," Harvey assured her.
-"They're awful rich over there," he volunteered,
-pointing to the large stone house in the distance.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It must be lovely," mused the girl. "We could
-have such lots of lovely things. Why don't you eat
-your dinner, Harvey?—it'll get so cold."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want it much," replied her brother. "You
-see, I had a pretty good breakfast," he explained
-cheerfully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The loving eyes, still moist, gazed into his own.
-She was so young, some years younger than he, and
-as inexperienced almost as a child could be; yet the
-stern tuition of poverty and sorrow had given
-something of vision to the eyes that looked so wistfully
-out upon the plaintive face before her. She noted
-his shabby dress, the patches on his knees, the boots
-that stood so sorely in need of impossible repairs,
-the grimy stains of toil from head to foot, the
-furrowed channels that the flowing perspiration had left
-upon his face. And a great and mysterious pity
-seemed to possess her. She felt, dimly enough, yet
-with the sad reality of truth, that her brother had
-hardly had a chance in life's unequal struggle. His
-tenderness, his unselfishness, his courage, all these she
-recognized, though she could not have called them
-by their names. She knew how ardently he longed
-to do so much that chill penury forbade; and as she
-glanced at the dust-covered pile in the distance that
-his toil had gathered, then back at the tired figure on
-the grass, all stained and spotted, the food he so much
-needed untasted in his sorrow, she felt more and
-more that there was only one hero in the world,
-however baffled and unrecognized he might be.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother'll be so disappointed," the girl pleaded,
-"if you don't eat it, Harvey; she tried so hard to
-make it nice. Besides, I'll just have to carry it back,"
-she suddenly urged, a note of triumphant expectation
-in her voice; "and it was real heavy, too," well
-pleased with the culminating argument.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The boy hesitated, then slowly raised the tempting
-morsel to his lips. "I didn't have such an awful
-lot of breakfast," he conceded; "I really am pretty
-hungry—and it was so good of you to fetch it to me,
-sister," his gaze resting affectionately on her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A long silence ensued, Jessie watching delightedly
-as the little repast was disposed of, entertaining her
-brother the while with a constant stream of talk, all
-fed from the fountain-head of their own little circle,
-their own humble and struggling life. But however
-far afield her speech, with her thought, might
-wander, it kept constantly returning to the one central
-figure of their lonely lives, to her from whom their
-own lives had sprung; and the most unobservant
-listener would soon have known that the unselfish
-tenderness, the loving courage, of the mother-heart
-that had warmed and sheltered their defenseless lives,
-was reaping now its great and rich reward.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie had reverted again to the dark shadow that
-overhung them both, their mother's failing eyesight;
-and two earnest little faces looked very soberly one
-into the other, as though they must together beat
-back the enemy from the gate.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly Harvey broke the silence. "I'm pretty
-sure she's going to get well," he said earnestly,
-holding the bottle in one hand and the glass stopper in
-the other. "I had a dream last night that—that
-comforted me a lot," he went on, slightly embarrassed
-by the fanciful nature of his argument; he could see
-that Jessie had hoped for something better. "I
-dreamed I was walking some place on a country
-road. And it was all dark—for mother, at least—it
-was awful dark, and I was leading her by the hand.
-I thought there was something troubling her that
-you didn't know about—nor me—nobody, only
-mother. Well, just when we were groping round in
-the dark, a great big black cloud broke up into little
-bits, and the sun came out beautiful—just like—like
-it is now," he described, glancing towards the orb
-above them. "Of course, that was only in my
-dream—but we went straight on after that and
-mother could see to walk just as well as me," he
-concluded, smiling as hopefully as if dreams were the
-only realities of life.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie, holding her sunbonnet by both strings and
-swinging it gently to and fro, had a curious look of
-interest, not unmixed with doubt, upon her childish
-face. "That was real nice, Harvey," she said slowly
-at length, "but I don't just understand. You see,
-people always dream their dreams at night—and the
-sun couldn't come out at night; anyhow it never does."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey gazed indulgently. "It can do anything
-when you're dreaming," he said quickly, a far-off
-look in his thoughtful eyes. "That's when all the
-wonderful things happen," he went on, still looking
-absently across the fields. "Poor folks have just as
-good a time as rich folks, when they're asleep," he
-concluded, his voice scarcely audible.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But they know the difference when they wake
-up," retorted his sister, plucking a clover leaf eagerly.
-"Only three leaves!" she exclaimed contemptuously,
-tossing it aside. "Yes, it's very different when they
-wake up—and everybody's awake more than they're
-asleep," she affirmed, as confident in her philosophy
-as he in his.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Her brother said nothing as he proceeded to fold
-up the rather generous remains of his dinner; poor
-laddie, he knew the taste of bread eaten with tears,
-even if he had never heard the phrase. His face
-brightened a little as his hand went out to the pocket
-of his blouse, extracting a parcel wrapped in paper.
-He held it with both hands behind his back,
-uncovering it the while.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Shut your eyes, Jessie—and open your mouth,"
-he directed, as enthusiastically as though the formula
-were being tested for the first and only time.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie obeyed with a confidence born of long experience,
-and her brother, all care vanished meanwhile
-from his face, held the plum-cake to her lips. "Now,
-bite," he said. Jessie, already faintly tasting, made a
-slight incision. "Oh, Jessie, bite bigger—bite bigger,
-Jessie!" he cried in dismay; "you're just trying how
-little you can take—and I kept it for you." But
-Jessie's eyes were wide open now, fixed on the unwonted
-luxury. "Too much isn't good for little girls," she
-said quaintly, swallowing eagerly, nevertheless; "I'll
-eat one piece if you'll eat the other, Harvey," she
-said, noticing the double portion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm keeping mine for mother," said the boy
-resolutely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So'm I," the other exclaimed before his words
-were out. "I'd sooner have the pancakes, anyhow,"
-she added, fearing his protest. "Will you take it to
-her, Harvey—or me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think you'd better," replied her brother, "and
-I'll eat the rest of the dinner if you'll promise to eat
-your part of the cake when you get home."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie nodded her consent, and a few minutes saw
-Harvey's portion of the contract nobly executed, his
-sister as satisfied as he.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-flow-of-soul"><span class="bold large">V</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">A FLOW OF SOUL</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Good Dr. Fletcher always said a little
-longer grace than usual when he dined at
-Mr. Craig's. Whether this was due to the
-length of the ensuing meal, or to the long intervals
-that separated these great occasions, or to the wealth
-that provided them, or to the special heart-needs of
-the wealthy, it were difficult to say. But one thing
-is beyond all doubt, and that is that the good
-minister of the Glenallen Presbyterian Church would no
-more have thought of using an old grace at Mrs. Craig's
-table than she herself would have dreamed of
-serving the same kind of soup, or repeating a dessert
-whose predecessor was within the call of memory.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>On this particular evening Dr. Fletcher's invocation
-had been particularly long, due perhaps to the
-aroma, more than usually significant, that had
-escaped the kitchen to assure the sanguine guests; and
-a sort of muffled amen broke from their waiting lips,
-soon to confirm the word by all sincerity of action.
-This amen was doubtless due in part to gratitude for
-what had ended, as well as to anticipation of what was
-about to be begun. Cecil Craig, seated beside his
-mother, took no part in the terminal devotion; long
-before the time to utter it, his open eyes were turned
-towards the door through which the servants were to
-enter, and from which, so far as he could reckon, all
-blessings flow.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Soup came first, and young Craig dauntlessly led
-on in the attack. His mother tried eagerly to
-call to his attention, and to his alone, that he had
-seized the spoon meant for his dessert; but Cecil was
-already in full cry, the mistaken weapon plying like a
-paddle-wheel between his plate and his mouth—and
-no signal of distress could reach him. The most
-unfortunate feature of it all, however, was the speedy
-plight of one or two timorous guests, who, waiting
-for the lead of any members of the family, had
-followed Cecil's; and, suddenly detecting whither he had
-led them, were soon floundering sadly in such a
-slough of despond as they scarce escaped from during
-the entire meal.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. and Mrs. Borland were there, one on either
-side of Dr. Fletcher; and the light of temporary
-peace was upon Mrs. Borland's brow—for the Craigs'
-home was nearer to a mansion than any other in
-Glenallen. A slight shade of impatience flitted
-across her face as she glanced athwart Dr. Fletcher's
-portly form, surveying her husband's bosom swathed
-in snowy white, his napkin securely tucked beneath
-his chin. But David was all unconscious, the region
-beneath the napkin being exceeding comfortable; for
-the soup was good, and her spouse bade fair to give
-Cecil a stern chase for the honours of the finish.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Soup is a mighty lubricant of the inward parts;
-wherefore there broke out, when the first course was
-run, a very freshet of conversation; and the most
-conspicuous figure in the flow was that of Mr. Craig.
-He had the advantage, of course, of an erect position,
-for he had risen to inaugurate his attack upon the
-helpless fowl before him; an entrance once effected,
-he would resume his seat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It beats me," he was saying, glancing towards
-Dr. Fletcher as he spoke, "it beats me how any
-man can go and see sick folks every day—I'd sooner
-do hard labour. Don't you get awful tired of it,
-Doctor?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The minister's gentle face flushed a little—the
-same face at sight of which the sad and the weary
-were wont to take new hope. "I don't think you
-understand it, Mr. Craig," he answered quietly;
-"any one who regards it as you do could never see
-the beauty of it—it all depends on what you take
-with you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good heavens, do you have to take things with
-you?" cried the astonished host. "Matters are
-come to a pretty pass when they expect a poor
-preacher to be giving—as well as praying," he
-affirmed, affirmed, savagely at the victim on the
-platter.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David Borland was listening intently, nabbing
-dexterously the while at a tray of salted almonds
-that lay a good arm's length away from him. "The
-minister's quite right," he now broke in; "you don't
-understand, Mr. Craig—Dr. Fletcher don't mean that
-he takes coal an' tea, when he visits poor folks. But
-what he says is dead true just the same—any one
-can carry a bag of turnips, or such like, to any one
-that's willin' to take 'em. But a minister's got to
-give somethin' far more than that; even on Sundays—at
-least that's my idea of it—even on Sundays,
-what a preacher gives is far more important than what
-he says."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean he ought to give himself," Mrs. Craig
-suggested, stirring the gravy as she spoke, the
-dismembered turkey being now despatched to its
-anointing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's it exactly," rejoined David, beaming on
-his hostess, her own face aglow with the gentle light
-that flows from a sympathetic heart. "Everythin's
-jest a question of how much you give of your own
-self; even here," his voice rising as he hailed the
-happy illustration, "even in this here house—with
-this here bird—we ain't enjoyin' it because we're
-gettin' so much turkey, but because we're gettin' so
-much Craig," he went on fervently. "I could buy
-this much turkey for a quarter," passing a well-laden
-plate as he spoke, "for twenty-five cents at an eatin'
-house—but it wouldn't jest taste the same. It
-wouldn't have the Craig taste, you see—there wouldn't
-be no human flavour to it, like; an' turkey ain't
-nothin' without a human flavour. That's what makes
-everythin' taste good, you see," he concluded,
-smiling benignly around on the assembled guests.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't believe in any such," retorted Mr. Craig;
-"no mixture of that kind for mine. Turkey's one
-thing, and humanity's another—no stews for me," he
-directed, smiling broadly at this flash of unaccustomed
-wit; "people eat turkey—but not humanity," he
-concluded victoriously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're wrong there," replied David Borland
-quickly. "Folks lives on humanity—only it's got
-to be served warm," he added, falling to upon the
-turkey nevertheless.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you think about it, Doctor?" Mrs. Borland
-enquired absently, for her real concern was with
-David; his dinner knife was her constant terror when
-they were dining out. All was well so far, however,
-her husband devoting it as yet to surgery alone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think exactly what your husband thinks,"
-replied the minister. "He has said the very thing I
-have often wished to say. I have always felt that
-what a preacher </span><em class="italics">gives</em><span> to his people—of his heart
-and love and sympathy—is far more than what he
-</span><em class="italics">says</em><span> to them. If it were not so, they'd better stay
-home and read far finer things than he can say; I
-often feel that preparing to preach is far more
-important than preparing a sermon. And I think the
-same holds true of all giving—all philanthropy, for
-instance. What you give of yourself to the poor is
-far more than what you give from your pocketbook—and,
-if the truth were told, I believe it's what the
-poor are looking for, far more than they are for
-money." The tenderness in Dr. Fletcher's face and
-the slight quiver in his voice attested the sincerity of
-his feeling; they might, too, have afforded no little
-explanation of the love that all Glenallen felt for the
-humble and kindly man.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Craig laughed; and that laughter was the key
-to his character. Through that wave of metallic
-merriment, as through a tiny pane, one might see
-into all the apartments of a cold and cheerless heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's mighty pretty, Doctor," he began jocosely;
-"but if I was poor I'd sooner have the cash—give
-me the turkey, and you can have the humanity. I
-believe in keeping these things separate, Dr. Fletcher,"
-he went on sagaciously; "no mixin' up business with
-religion, for me—of course, helping the poor isn't
-exactly religion, but it comes mighty near it. And
-if I give anything to the poor—I used to, too, used
-to give—to give so much every year, till I found out
-one family that bought a watermelon with it, and
-then I thought it was about time to stop. But when
-I used to—to give to the poor, I always did it
-strictly as a matter of business; just gave so much
-to—to an official—and then I didn't want to know
-how he dispensed it, or who got it, or anything
-about it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did the—the official—did he give all his time to
-dispensin' it, Mr. Craig? Or did he just do it nights
-and after hours?" enquired David Borland, detaching
-his napkin from his upper bosom and scouring an
-unduly merry mouth with it the while.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Craig glanced suspiciously at his guest. "I
-didn't wish to know," he replied loftily in a moment;
-"all I'm making out is the principle that governed
-me. And I always take the same stand in my
-business—always assume the same attitude towards my
-men," he amplified, as proud of his language as of
-his attitude. "Of all the men I've got hired, I don't
-believe I know a half dozen except the foremen. I
-get their work, and they get their pay every second
-and fourth Tuesday—and that's the end of it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't know how much you miss," the minister
-ventured, quite a glow of colour on his otherwise
-pallid cheek. "There's nothing so interesting as
-human life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You bet—that's just it," chimed David's robust
-voice; "that's where a fellow gets his recreation. I
-don't think I'm master of my business till I know
-somethin' about my men—there ain't no process, even
-in manufacturing half so interestin' as the doin's
-of folks in their own lives. I know lots of their
-wives, too, an' half the kids—please give me a little
-more stuffin', Mrs. Craig: it's powerful good," and
-David passed his plate as cheerfully as his opinion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That may be your way of taking your recreation,
-Mr. Borland, but it isn't mine," retorted the host,
-obviously a little ruffled. "Business on business lines,
-that's my motto. Just the other day a little gaffer
-asked me for work, on the plea that he wanted to fix
-up his mother's eyes—wanted to send her to a
-specialist, I think—and I told him that had nothing to do
-with the case; if I wanted him I'd take him, and if I
-didn't, nobody's eyes could make any difference."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Was his name Harvey Simmons?" David enquired
-somewhat eagerly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe it was. Why, what do you know about him?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, nothin' much—only I hired him. And he
-isn't goin' to have no blind mother if my givin' him
-work will help—that's more. She's got a son worth
-lookin' at—that's one thing sure. An' he earned
-every penny I ever gave him, too—what was you
-goin' to say, Doctor?" For he saw the minister had
-something to offer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know the little fellow well," said Dr.
-Fletcher, evidently glad of the opportunity. "Poor
-little chap, he's had hard lines—his father was a slave
-to drink, I believe, and the poor mother has fought
-about as good a fight as I ever saw. I'm sure she
-carries about some burden of sorrow nobody knows
-anything about. She has two children. Well, a long
-time ago now, one of the richest couples in my church
-offered to adopt the little girl—and they got me to
-sound her on the subject. Goodness me! You
-should have seen the way the woman stood at bay.
-'Not till the last crust's gone,' she said. She was
-fairly roused; 'I'm richer than they are,' she said;
-'I've got my two children, and I'll keep them as long
-as I can lift a hand to toil for them.' Really, I
-never felt more rebuked in my life—but I admired
-her more than I could tell. And the wee fellow raged
-like a little lion. 'Did he want to take sister?—tell him
-to go home, mother,' and he was fairly shouting and
-stamping his little foot, though the tears were
-running down his cheeks all the while. I said she had
-two children," the minister added, "but I think she
-lost a baby through some sad accident years ago."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David Borland's eyes were glistening. "Bully for
-you, Doctor!" his voice rang through the room.
-"Bully for you—I knew the lad was worth stickin'
-to. I'm proud to be mixed up with a chap like
-that," thumping the table as he spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what I often say to Peter," Mrs. Craig
-began mildly during the pause that followed. "I often
-feel what you sometimes say in your sermons,
-Doctor—that we ought all to be mixed up a little more
-together. The rich and the poor, I mean. They
-need us, and we need them—and we both have our
-own parts to play in the great plan."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's it, Mrs. Craig," David broke in lustily
-again; "that's exactly it—last Sunday when we sang
-that line, 'My web of time He wove,' I jest stopped
-singin'—it struck me, like it never done before, as
-how God Himself couldn't weave much without us
-helpin' Him—the rich an' the poor—it's Him that
-designs, but it's us that has to weave. An' I reckon
-our hands has got to touch—if they're workin' on the
-same piece," he concluded, drinking in the approving
-smile with which Dr. Fletcher was showing his
-appreciation of the quaint philosophy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A considerable silence followed, the host showing
-no disposition to break it. Cecil was the first
-to speak.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Harvey wears patches on his knees," he informed
-the company. "What is there for dessert, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Craig whispered the important information;
-the radiant son straightway published it to the world:
-"Plum pudding!—I like that—only I hope it has
-hard sauce."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Which it ultimately proved to have—and to Mrs. Borland's
-great dismay. For David, loyal to ancient
-ways, yet ever open to the advantage of modern
-improvement, passed back his plate for a second
-helping.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I used to think the kind of gravy-sauce you
-slashed all over it was the whole thing—but I believe
-that ointment's got it beat," he said; whereat
-Mrs. Borland laid her spoon upon her plate, the ointment
-and the anointed untasted more.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="an-investment"><span class="bold large">VI</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">AN INVESTMENT</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>David Borland stood quite a little while
-gazing at the contents of the window before
-he entered the tiny store. Rather scanty
-those contents were; a few candy figures, chiefly
-chocolate creations, a tawdry toy or two, some
-samples of biscuits judiciously assorted, a gaudy tinselled
-box of chewing-gum, and a flaming card that
-proclaimed the merits of a modern brand of tea.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>These all duly scrutinized, David pushed the door
-open and entered the humble place of business. The
-opening door threw a sleigh-bell, fastened above it,
-into quite an hysterical condition, and this in turn
-was answered by hurrying footsteps from the inner
-room. It was Harvey who appeared.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-morning, Mr. Borland," the boy said
-respectfully. "Did you want to see mother?" he
-enquired a little anxiously; "she's gone to the market,
-but I think she'll soon be back."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right, my boy," the man responded.
-"No, it wasn't your mother I wanted; it was
-you—I come to do a little business."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," said Harvey, glancing hopefully towards
-the window.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tain't exactly shop business," David said, a little
-nervously, "I come to—to buy a hen," he blurted out.
-Harvey's hand went like lightning into the glass
-case. Withdrawn, it produced a candy creature of
-many colours, its comb showing the damage that
-vandal tongues had done. "Totty Moore licked at
-it once or twice when we wasn't lookin'," he
-explained apologetically; "it used to be in the
-window—it's a settin' hen," he enlarged, indicating with
-his finger a pasty pedestal on which the creative
-process was being carried on.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David grinned broadly. "'Tain't that kind of a
-hen I'm wantin'," he said. "I want the real
-article—a real live two-legged hen."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," said Harvey, staring hard.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's your chicken-house?" enquired David,
-coming to business direct.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's outside," the boy replied instructively—"but
-there ain't very many."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's go and see them," said the man.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The boy led the way, David ducking his head several
-times en route, bowing profoundly at the last as
-they entered the little house.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This your hennery?" he asked, surveying the
-inmates amid a storm of cackling; "sounds like you
-had hundreds of 'em."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just five," said Harvey, peering towards his
-customer through the semi-darkness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I'll buy that there one on the roost,"
-David said after due deliberation; "seems to be the
-highest-minded of the bunch."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Can't," said Harvey, "that's Jessie's; it's only
-got just one eye—that's why Jessie wanted it. Can't
-sell Jessie's," he concluded firmly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David agreed. "Haven't you got one called
-Pinky?" he enquired.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," Harvey replied solemnly, "she's dead—we
-had her a long, long time ago. I can show you her
-grave outside in the yard."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Never mind," said Mr. Borland; "this ain't no
-day for inspectin' graves. I might have known she'd
-passed away—how long does a hen live, anyhow—a
-healthy hen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Depends on how they're used," said the boy;
-"Pinky sneezed to death—too much pepper, I think.
-Who told you about Pinky, sir?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Depends a good deal, too, on how often the
-preacher comes to dinner, don't it? It was Madeline
-told me about Pinky—you know my girl, don't you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," and Harvey's face was bright; "I'm awful
-sorry Pinky's dead—I could sell you one of Pinky's
-grandchildren's children, Mr. Borland."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" said Mr. Borland, turning a straw about
-and placing the unchewed end in his mouth, "one of
-what?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"One of Pinky's grandchildren's children. You
-see, her child was Fluffy, and its child was Toppy—that
-was her grandchild; well, its child was Blackie—and
-that's her scratchin' her cheek with her left foot.
-She's done scratchin', but that's her over there."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's got the Pinky blood in her all right?"
-asked Mr. Borland.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's bound to have it," the boy answered
-gravely; "they was all born right in this room;
-besides, I've got it all marked down on the door."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David surveyed the descendant critically. "Does
-she lay brown eggs?" he enquired presently.
-"Madeline said Pinky always laid brown eggs."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey hesitated a moment. "They're—they're
-pretty brown," he said after a pause. "They mostly
-turn brown a little after they're laid."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm terrible fond of brown eggs," remarked the
-purchaser.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What for?" asked Harvey, looking full into his face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, really—I don't know," and David grinned
-a little. "Only I always fancy they're kind o'—kind
-o' better done, don't you think? Besides," he
-added quickly, "I always like my toast brown,
-too—and they kind o' match better, you see."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Harvey reflectively; "I never
-thought of that before. Of course, there isn't any
-hen can be taught </span><em class="italics">always</em><span> to lay them brown—I
-think Blackie tries to make them as brown as she
-can," glancing fondly at the operator as he spoke.
-"If you was to feed her bran, Mr. Borland, I think
-she'd get them brown nearly all the time."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a thunderin' good idea," affirmed Mr. Borland,
-Harvey chiming in with increasing assurance
-of success as he marked the favour with which
-his theory was received.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll call it a bargain," said David.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," exclaimed the boy, "just wait a minute
-till I get a bag."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't bother about that; I'll just leave her here
-till I send for her—she'll earn her board. But I
-may as well pay you now—how much is she worth?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The boy pondered. "I don't hardly know—of
-course the brown kind comes a little dearer," he
-ventured, glancing cautiously at Mr. Borland.
-"She's an awful well-bred hen—I can show you on
-the door. And she'll eat anything—Jessie's string
-of beads broke loose in the yard once and Blackie
-ate them all but two; that shows she's healthy," he
-concluded earnestly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a wonder she ain't layin' glass alleys,"
-remarked David. "Well, about the price—I'll tell
-you what I'll do with you. Here's a bill—an' if she
-keeps on at the brown business, mebbe I'll give you a
-little more."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He handed the boy a crisp note, the lad's hand
-trembling as he took it. He gave the door a push
-open that the light might fall on it. "Oh, Mr. Borland,"
-he cried, in a loud, shrill voice, "I won't—you
-mustn't, you mustn't. Mother wouldn't let me—I
-can't—please take it back, Mr. Borland," and
-David noticed in the fuller light that the boy was
-shaking with emotion, his face aglow with its eager
-excitement.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense, my lad; what you going on about?
-I reckon I know somethin' about the price of
-hens—especially the brown kind. No, I won't take it
-back. She's worth that much to me jest to keep
-the yard red up o' glass."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Mr. Borland—I wish I——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tut, tut," David interrupted; "boys should take
-what's set before 'em, an' ask no questions—an'
-don't you tell nobody now, only your mother.
-Say, isn't that her callin'? Listen—it is, sure
-enough—that's your mother callin' you," and David
-took advantage of the interruption to unlatch an
-adjoining gate, slipping through to the outer lane, his
-face the more radiant of the two.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="effectual-calling"><span class="bold large">VII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"</span><em class="bold italics medium">EFFECTUAL CALLING</em><span class="bold medium">"</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"I'll go with you as far as the door, dear—but
-the elders wouldn't want me to come in,
-of course." Thus spoke Mrs. Simmons to
-her son as the little family were seated at their
-evening meal. Very humble it was, indeed, with its
-strawberry jam, and bread and cheese, these
-themselves carefully measured out.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come away, Jessie; what's keeping you?" the
-mother called to the outer kitchen.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll come in a minute, mother," the child's
-cheery voice replied. "I'm doing something,"
-which was evident a little later when Jessie appeared,
-flushed and triumphant, bearing in one hand a little
-plate of well-browned toast, and in the other, her
-little fingers tingling with its heat, a large brown
-egg, evidently an unwonted luxury.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jessie, my child, what have you been doing?"
-the mother asked, peering rather closely at the
-dainties the child had laid upon her plate. "Oh,
-Jessie, you shouldn't have done it—you know we
-can't afford it, dear; we need to sell them all," she
-remonstrated, affection and gratitude nevertheless
-mingling in her voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It was cracked, mother—it got a little fall," the
-child explained artfully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jessie gave it a little fall; she always gets the
-biggest one cracked a little when there isn't much
-for supper—don't you, sister?" Harvey asked knowingly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His sister blushed, but the reply she was struggling
-to provide was interrupted by the tinkling of the bell
-above the door in the little room without. This
-was a signal the mother was never slow to obey;
-customers were rare enough and must not be
-permitted to escape. Rising quickly, she made her
-way, her hands extended rather pitifully, to the little
-room that did duty as a store. Jessie bore the little
-delicacies back to the kitchen, lest they should cool
-in the interval.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The mother was back again in a minute, sighing
-as she resumed her seat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did they buy anything, mother?" her son enquired.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, nothing—they wanted something we didn't
-have; I sent them to Ford's," referring to a more
-elaborate establishment on an adjoining street. "I
-was speaking about you going to the elders' meeting,
-Harvey—I'll go with you as far as the church,
-as I said. And you mustn't be afraid, son; they'll
-be glad you're going to join the church. And you
-must just answer what they ask you, the same as
-you do to me at home."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will they ask me the catechism, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Some of the questions, most likely. Be sure you
-know 'effectual calling'—I think they nearly always
-ask 'effectual calling.'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know that one all right," the boy answered.
-"I said it to Jessie four times last night—do you
-think there'll be others there to join the church,
-mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't say for sure, but it's likely there'll be
-some. I guess it's almost time to go now, dear,"
-she said rising. "Jessie, you'll do the best you can
-if anybody comes in—I'll not be long."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will it be all right about—about you finding
-your way back, mother?" Harvey asked slowly, his
-voice full of solicitude.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, child, of course—you and Jessie are
-growing quite foolish about me. I'm not so bad as
-that," she protested. "Why, I can tell the day of
-the month, when I stand up close to the calendar—this
-is the 23d," she affirmed reassuringly, stepping
-out into the night with Harvey clinging close beside
-her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Neither spoke much as they walked on towards
-the village church. Often, when she thought the
-boy's eyes were not upon her, the woman lifted her
-own upward to the silent stars; the night always
-rested her, something of its deep tranquillity passing
-into the tired heart that had known so much of
-battle. And yet the long struggle had left upon her
-face the marks of peace rather than the scars of
-conflict. Of merriment, there were traces few or none,
-although sufficient provocation could recall the
-old-time sparkle to the eyes that had been so often
-dimmed; but something noble was there instead, a
-placid beauty such as comes alone from resignation,
-born of a heart that has found its rest in a Strength
-and Tenderness which dwell beyond the hills of time.
-If one could have caught a vision of that face,
-upturned to the radiant sky above her, the glimpse
-would have disclosed features of shapely strength,
-marked by great patience, the eyes full of brooding
-gentleness and love, conscious of the stern battle that
-composed her life, but conscious, too—and this it was
-that touched the face with passion—of invisible
-resources, of an unseen Ally that mysteriously bore
-her on.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go in here a minute," the mother said
-when they were almost at the church.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey followed her, unquestioning. He knew
-whither her feet were turned, for he had often
-followed that well-marked path before, often with
-toddling feet. They entered the quiet churchyard,
-passing many an imposing monument, threading
-their way with reverent steps among the graves,
-careful that no disrespect should be shown the
-humblest sleeper. On they pressed, the dew glistening
-upon their shoes as they walked, their very
-breathing audible amid the oppressive silence.
-Gradually the woman's steps grew slower; and as she
-crept close to an unmarked grave that lay among
-the untitled mounds around it, the slender frame
-trembled slightly, drawing her poor shawl closer as
-she halted with downcast eyes, gazing at the silent
-sepulchre as it lay bathed in the lonely light of the
-new-risen moon. The boy stood behind her for a
-moment, then crept close to her, his hand gliding
-into hers; the woman's closed about it passionately,
-its warmth stealing inward to her heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I remember when baby died," Harvey
-began, after they had stood long together by the
-grave; "I was asleep, wasn't I, mother? I
-remember in the morning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, dear," said his mother, her voice tremulous;
-"yes, you were asleep—I was with baby when she
-died."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Was father there too, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Harvey, yes—pull that weed, dear; there,
-at the foot of baby's grave."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did father cry when baby died, mother?—like
-you did, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, dear—yes, I think so. We'll have
-to bring some fresh flowers soon, won't we, Harvey?"
-the mother's lips trembling.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mother, I'll pick some pretty ones to-morrow.
-Did father die long after baby, mother?" the
-boy pursuing the dread subject with the strange
-persistence wherewith children so often probe a secret
-wound.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, my son—yes, I mean; yes, Harvey, it was
-the same night, I think," her nervous fingers roving
-about Harvey's uncovered head.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You </span><em class="italics">think</em><span>, mother?" the tone full of surprise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It was near the same time, Harvey," she answered
-hurriedly, unable to control her voice. "I
-can't tell you now, son—some day, perhaps. But
-mother was so sorry about baby that she hardly
-knows—don't ask me any more about it, Harvey,"
-she suddenly pleaded; "never any more—some day
-I'll tell you all about your father, and all you've
-asked me so often. But don't ask me any more,
-my son—it makes mother feel bad," as she bent
-over to kiss the curious lips.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He could see the tears upon his mother's cheeks,
-and he inwardly resolved that her bidding should be
-done, silently wondering the while what this
-mysterious source of pain might be.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>After a long silence the boy's voice was heard
-again: "Weren't baby's eyes shut when she died,
-mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, darling—yes, they were closed in death,"
-and the unforgetting heart beat fast at the tender
-memory.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But they're open now, aren't they, mother?—and
-wasn't it God that did it?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Harvey, they're open now—God opened
-them, I'm sure."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Couldn't He make people see all right before
-they're dead, mother? Couldn't He do it for you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, child—yes, He could if He wanted to."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And why wouldn't He want to?" the boy asked
-wonderingly. "I'm sure He could; and I've been
-asking Him to do it for us Himself—if we couldn't
-get the money for the doctor to do it. Wasn't that
-right, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The moon, high now, looked down upon the lonely
-pair; they stood together, they two, beside the
-unresponsive grave, the elder face bathed in tears, the
-younger unstained by grief and wistful with the eager
-trust of childhood. The insignia of poverty was
-upon them both, and the boy shivered slightly in the
-chill air; but the great romance and tragedy of life
-were interwoven there, love and hope and sorrow
-playing the parts they had so often played before.
-The woman stooped down amid the glistening grass
-and took her child into her arms, pressing him close
-to her troubled bosom, her face against his cheek,
-while her eyes roved still about his sister's grave.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We must go on," she murmured presently.
-"Can you see a light in the church?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you join when you were just a girl,
-mother?" the boy asked, his lips close to her ear.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she replied, "I was very young when I
-joined."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did father ever join the church?" Harvey went
-on, releasing his face to gaze about the sleeping
-city.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, dear—no, your father never was a member of
-the church," she said softly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Wasn't he good enough? Wouldn't they let
-him?" the lad asked wonderingly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They never—they never refused him," his mother
-faltered. "But he never thought he was good
-enough."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But he was, wasn't he?" the boy pursued.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, dear—yes, he was once—he often was. He
-always meant to be good; he loved you, Harvey.
-And he made me promise that some day I would
-tell you why he thought—why he thought he wasn't
-good enough. He was afraid you might be the
-same; it was something he—something he couldn't
-help very well—I'll tell you some day, Harvey.
-Who's that?" she whispered excitedly, pointing
-towards a shadowy figure that was winding its way
-silently towards them.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His mother straightened up as she spoke, Harvey's
-hand tight clasped in hers again. The figure came
-swiftly on.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's Madeline," the boy said rather excitedly.
-"It's Madeline Borland—I guess she's going to join
-too."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Which proved indeed to be the case. "I knew it
-was you," the girl began, almost breathless as she
-came up to them. "The beadle said it was you,
-Harvey; Julia walked to the church with me, and
-she's waiting till I join. I thought perhaps we might
-go in together; I don't want to go in alone." Harvey
-could see in the dim light how eagerly the
-girl's eyes were searching his mother's face. He did
-not withdraw his hand, but unconsciously straightened
-himself in quiet dignity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This is my mother," he said simply, quite
-unfamiliar with the modes of introduction; "and that's
-Miss Borland, mother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Please don't say that," the girl interrupted. "I
-think you might call me Madeline; anyhow, I heard
-you call me Madeline to your mother," as she
-stepped gently around the foot of the grave and
-extended her hand to Harvey's mother. The older
-woman was evidently struck by the girl's beauty, by
-the simple grace and kindliness of her manner. At
-any rate she held the outstretched hand rather long
-in hers, gazing on the sweet face upturned in the
-quivering light.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And this—this is my sister's grave," Harvey's
-subdued voice added a moment later.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The girl said nothing, turning a solemn gaze upon
-the lowly mound. She had been long familiar with
-the quiet acre, but this was perhaps the first time she
-had realized the dread personality that clothes the
-grave with dignity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You haven't any treasure here, have you, Miss
-Madeline?" the mother asked timidly, when the
-pause had become almost painful.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not any," the girl answered in hushed tones;
-"we haven't even got a plot—I never had a little
-sister," she affirmed, the moistening eyes turning
-now to Harvey's face. He looked down, then up
-again, and the soulful gaze was still fixed upon him.
-A kind of wave, strange and unfamiliar, seemed to
-bathe his soul; he did not wish to look longer, and
-yet a sort of spell seemed to keep his eyes fastened
-on her face. The girl's look was eloquent of much
-that neither he nor she was able to interpret, the first
-venture out to sea on the part of either soul.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Doesn't it seem strange that we should meet here—here
-at your sister's grave," she said slowly, after
-the gaze of both had fallen. "Of course, we've often
-seen each other at school—but this is our first real
-meeting, isn't it?" she went on, gazing now
-towards the light that twinkled feebly in the distant
-church.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he answered simply, "yes, it is—I guess
-we'd better go. Do you know the catechism?" he
-digressed, beginning to move forward, half leading
-his mother by the hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't. Father doesn't believe in catechisms,—I
-wanted him to join along with me, but he said
-he wasn't good enough. Only he said he'd see—it
-would be just like him to come without my
-knowing."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what my father said," Harvey interjected
-quickly; "and my mother says he was often good—only
-of course it's too late now," a little sigh escaping
-with the words.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps they join them in heaven," the girl
-suggested in an awestruck voice. "Father says that's
-where the real joining's done; if your father was
-good, I'm sure they'd join him," she concluded
-earnestly, looking into both the serious faces as
-she spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you think maybe they would, mother?"
-pleaded the boy. The habit of a lifetime committed
-everything to the mother for final judgment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's in God's hands, dear," the delicate face
-glancing upward through the mist. "I'm sure God
-would do it if He could—we'd better hurry on;
-they'll be waiting for us in the church."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The little procession wound its way back to the
-humble temple, Harvey still holding his mother by
-the hand, Madeline following close behind. And
-the shadowy home of the little child was left alone
-in the silence and the dark.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The youthful pair disappeared within the ivy-grown
-door. The mother, her dim eyes still more
-dimmed by tears, turned upon her homeward way, a
-troubled expression on her face. Why had she not
-told him more, she wondered to herself—something
-about his father, and the cruel appetite that had
-been his shame and his undoing? And her lips
-moved in trembling prayer that God would save her
-son from the blight of his father's life, that the
-dread heritage might never wrap his life in the same
-lurid flame.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="of-such-is-the-kingdom"><span class="bold large">VIII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The predominant national type among the
-Glenallen folks was Scotch, and that
-distinctly. David Borland was one of the
-few exceptions; and the good folk about him had
-varied explanations for the baffling fact that he,
-American-bred though he was, had been one of the
-most prosperous men of the community. Some
-maintained that his remote ancestry must have come
-from the land o' cakes, even though he himself were
-oblivious to heaven's far-off goodness. Others
-contended that his long association with a Scottish
-neighbourhood had inoculated him with something
-of their distinctive power; while the profounder
-minds acknowledged frankly that the ways of
-Providence were mysterious, and that this lonely
-spectacle of an alien mortal, handicapped from birth and
-yet rising to affluence and distinction, was but an
-evidence of the Omnipotence that had wrought the
-miracle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But if, in matters temporal, the historic Scotch
-stock of Glenallen had been compelled to divide the
-spoil with those of lesser origin, the control of
-affairs ecclesiastical was carefully reserved for Scottish
-hands alone. This went without saying. Over
-every door of church officialdom, and especially of
-the eldership, he who ran might read: "No Irish
-need apply,"—and the restriction included all to
-whom heaven had denied the separate advantage of
-Scottish birth or ancestry.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Wherefore it came about that the assembled elders
-who on this particular night awaited the arrival of
-applicants for church-membership were about as
-formidable to look upon as any half dozen of mere
-men could be. The dignity of their office filled the
-little room and the sense of responsibility sat gravely
-on every face. Two there were among them, newly
-elected to the office—the highest office in the gift of
-their fellow-men—and these two were fairly dripping
-with new-born solemnity. The older men, relaxing
-with the years, had discarded some of the sombre
-drapery that the newer elders wrapt about them with
-pious satisfaction.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Æneas Ramsay, one of the veterans, had ventured
-to ask one of the newly ordained if they would finish
-the threshing at his farm to-morrow. The question
-was put before the meeting had well begun, and was
-whispered in the ear at that; but the shock was
-easily seen on the new elder's face, who, recovering
-in a moment, informed his senior that they would
-discuss the matter after the "sederunt" was
-adjourned. Which purely Presbyterian term rolled
-from his lips with the luxurious unction known to
-Presbyterian elders, and to them alone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The Session had been constituted, and good old
-Sandy McKerracher had led in prayer, the other
-elders standing through the exercise. Most of them
-had one foot upon a chair, the elbow resting on the
-knee and the chin upon the hand, before Sandy had
-concluded. In fact, the precaution of an
-adjoining chair was seldom overlooked by any when
-the Moderator named Sandy for this solemn duty,
-his staying powers famous for fifty years. The chief
-emphasis of his prayer was laid on the appeal to
-Infinite Love that none of the intending communicants
-might eat and drink damnation to themselves.
-This was a favourite request with all of them on such
-occasions—excepting one elder, and good Dr. Fletcher
-himself—and it was largely because of this
-that the Moderator was wont to see the Session
-constituted before the candidates were admitted to the
-room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's some bringin' their lines frae ither kirks,"
-Robert MaCaig began, when the Moderator asked if
-there were any candidates for membership, "but
-there's nae mair nor twa to join on profession o'
-faith," he added, turning a despondent eye upon his
-brother elders. "We used to hae a dizzen or mair."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Twa souls is an awfu' lot, Robert—twa
-never dyin' souls!" It was Geordie Nickle who
-sounded the hopeful note. He was the saintliest
-elder of them all, and the saintliest are the
-sanguinest. "We maun be thankfu' for twa mair to own
-the Saviour's name," he added reverently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But they're only bairns," Robert urged; "there's
-no' a muckle man among them."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a' the better," returned Geordie; "the
-Maister was aye glad to hae the bairns come—ca'
-them in," he said, the slightest note of impatience in
-his voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later Harvey and Madeline were
-ushered in, very shy and embarrassed, their
-downcast eyes fluttering upwards now and then to the
-stern faces fixed upon them.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was considerable skirmishing of a
-preliminary sort, the elders' questions booming out
-solemnly like minute guns. Suddenly Robert
-McCaig proceeded to business.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll tak a rin ower the fundamentals," he said,
-brandishing the age-worn term as though he had
-just invented it. "What is original sin?" he
-demanded; "tell the Moderator what's original sin."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The Moderator kens fine himsel'," Andrew
-Fummerton whispered to the elder at his right, smiling
-grimly. But the man beside him scarcely heard, for
-every mind was intent with the process under way;
-scores of times had they witnessed it before, but it
-was again as new and absorbing as the prowess of a
-fisherman landing his reluctant prize.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was a long silence, still as death. Suddenly
-Willie Gillespie fell to sneezing; he it was at whose
-farm the threshers had been that day, and who had
-been profanely questioned by Æneas Ramsay, as
-already told. Perhaps it was the day's dust that
-provoked the outburst; but, from whatever cause, the
-explosion was remarkable in its power and duration,
-one detonation following another with heightening
-tumult till the final booming was worthy of the
-noblest efforts of modern artillery. As the bombardment
-increased in power, the elders unconsciously
-braced themselves a little on their chairs, dismayed
-at the unseemly outbreak, considering the place and
-the occasion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey, for the life of him, could not forbear to
-smile; this human symptom was reassuring to him
-amid the statuesque solemnity of the room—it made
-original sin less ghostly, somehow, and he looked
-almost gratefully at the dynamic Willie. This latter
-worthy, recoiling like a smoking cannon, groped
-frankly for his nose as if apprehensive that it had
-been discharged; finding it uninjured, he repaired
-hastily to the tail pocket of a black coat that had
-sustained the dignity of a previous generation in the
-eldership, extracting therefrom a lurid
-pocket-handkerchief—that is, originally lurid—but now as
-variously bedecked as though the threshers had enjoyed
-its common ministry that day. Whereupon there
-ensued a succession of reports, inferior only to their
-mighty predecessors themselves, resembling nothing
-so much as the desultory firing that succeeds the
-main attack.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye was askin' what might be original sin," Willie
-murmured apologetically from behind the faithful
-handkerchief, swishing it back and forward on his
-nose the while as though he were polishing the
-knocker on a door; he glanced apologetically towards
-Mr. McCaig as he spoke, anxious to repair the
-connection he had so violently disturbed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If my memory serves me," Robert returned severely,
-"if my memory serves me, that is what we
-was dealin' wi'—order's a graun' thing at a meetin' o'
-sic a kind as this," he added sternly, his gaze
-following the disappearing banner now being reëntombed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What is original sin, laddie? Mebbe the lassie
-can gie me the answer," he suggested, Harvey's
-silence impressing him as incurable.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not very sure," faltered Madeline—"was it
-the kind at the beginning?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Robert McCaig had no desire to be unnecessarily
-severe; therefore turned enquiringly to his colleagues,
-implying that the verdict lay with them.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, child, very good," Dr. Fletcher said
-approvingly. "It's very hard to answer Mr. McCaig's
-question—he'd find it difficult enough himself.
-What is it, Harvey?" he asked, smiling at the boy,
-who seemed to have an idea ready.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not very sure either; but isn't it—isn't it the
-kind that doesn't wear off?" the lad ventured timidly,
-rather ashamed of the description after it was finished.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Capital, my boy; first-rate!" the minister cried
-delightedly. "That's better than anything I learned
-in college. I don't believe any one could get much
-nearer to it than that—now we'll just pass from
-this," smiling around at the elders as he made the
-suggestion; "there are other things more important—has
-any of the elders anything else to ask?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was not long before two or three of them were
-in full cry again. Stern questions, weighty interrogatives,
-suggestive of the deepest mysteries, were propounded
-to the youthful pair as complacently as
-though they were being asked how many pints make
-a gallon. One wanted to know their view of the
-origin of evil, following this by a suggestion that
-they should each give a brief statement of the
-doctrine of the Trinity. Another urged that they should
-describe in brief the process of regeneration. Still
-another asked if they could repeat the books of the
-Bible backwards—any one, he said, could do it the
-old way—and one good elder capped the climax by
-saying he would like to hear them tell how to
-reconcile the free agency of man with the sovereignty of
-God.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But just at this juncture Geordie Nickle rose, his
-face beaming with tenderness, and addressed the chair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They're fashin' the bairns, Moderator," he said
-gently. "Wull ye no' let me pit a wee bit question
-or twa till them mysel'?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The Moderator was evidently but too well pleased,
-and his nod gave Geordie the right of way. The old
-man moved to where Harvey and Madeline were
-seated, taking his stand partially behind them, his
-hands resting gently on the heads of both.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I mind fine the nicht I joined the kirk mysel',"
-he began; "it was the winter my mither gaed awa,
-an' I think God answered her prayer, to mak her glad
-afore she went—but the elders askit me some o'
-thae vera questions—an' I kent then hoo far they
-was frae the soul," he said gravely, looking
-compassionately on the faces now upturned to his own.
-"Sae I'm juist gaein' to ask ye what I was wishin'
-they'd ask frae me. Div ye no' love the Saviour,
-lassie—and div ye no' ken He's the son o' God?" he
-asked reverently, tenderly. "Div ye no' ken that,
-lassie?—an' the same wi' yirsel', my laddie?—I'm sure
-ye're baith trustin' Him, to the savin' o' the soul;
-are ye no', bairnies?" and the old man's face shone
-as the great truth kindled his own simple soul.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey and Madeline nodded eager assent, a
-muffled affirmative breaking from their lips.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"An' ye ken the Saicrament's juist the meetin'-place
-where He breaks bread wi' His children, and
-where they say, afore a' the folk, that they love Him,
-and trust Him, an' want to be aye leal an' true till
-Him, and show forth His death till He come—div ye
-no' ken it that way?" the kindly voice went on, his
-hands still resting on the youthful heads.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey answered first: "That's what I'd like
-to be—that's what I want to do," he said simply.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to, too—I'm the same as Harvey," Madeline
-faltered sweetly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then Geordie Nickle straightened himself and
-turned towards Dr. Fletcher. "Moderator," he
-said earnestly, "we canna mak the way mair open
-nor the Maister made it; an' I move that these twa
-be received intil full communion, an' their names—the
-Clerk kens what they are—be added to the
-roll o' communicants in good standin' i' the kirk."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This was carried without further protest and
-ordered to be done forthwith.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-belated-enquirer"><span class="bold large">IX</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">A BELATED ENQUIRER</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The youthful candidates had hardly left the
-room when the beadle, compared with
-whose solemnity the gravity of the elders
-was frivolity itself, announced that a further
-candidate was in waiting.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's Mr. Borland," he said in an awed
-whisper—"Mr. David Borland. He wants to jine,
-Mr. Moderator," the beadle informed the court in much
-the same tone as is employed when death-warrants
-must be read. "An' it'll be on profession," he
-added, unable to forego the sensational announcement,
-"for he never jined no church afore." Then
-the beadle retreated with the mien that becomes an
-ecclesiastical sheriff.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>An instant later he reappeared with Mr. Borland,
-whom he left standing in the very centre of the
-room. The elders gazed wonderingly at the
-unexpected man.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dinna break oot again," Robert McCaig whispered
-to the now tranquil Willie, fearful of another
-explosion; "it's no' often a kirk session has sic a
-duty to perform," and Willie responded by rising
-slightly and sitting down hard upon the contents of
-his coat-tail pocket, as though the fuse for the
-explosion were secreted there.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David looked round upon the elders, in no wise
-abashed; he even nodded familiarly to two or three
-with whom he was more intimately acquainted.
-"It's a fine evening," he informed one nearest him,
-to the evident amazement of his brethren.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The usual process began, one or two undertaking
-preliminary examination.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you ever joined before, Mr. Borland?"
-one of the elders asked him after a little.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Never joined a church before—haven't been
-much of a joiner," David answered cheerfully;
-"joined the Elks once in the States when I was a
-young fellow—an' they made it pretty interestin'
-for me," dispensing a conciliatory smile among the
-startled elders as he turned to catch another question.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What maks ye want to join, Mr. Borland?"
-enquired one of the new elders, hitherto silent.
-"What's yir motive, like? Hae ye got the root o'
-the matter in ye, div ye think?" he elaborated
-formally.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David started somewhat violently, turning and
-looking his questioner full in the face. "Have I
-got what in me?" he cried—"what kind of a root?
-That's more than I can say, sir; I don't catch your
-meanin'."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Fletcher interposed. "You're not familiar
-with our terms, Mr. Borland," he said reassuringly.
-"Mr. Aiken only wants to know why you feel
-impelled to become a member of the church—perhaps
-you could answer the question when it's put that
-way?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David's first sign of answer was to stoop and pick
-up a rather shapeless hat lying at his feet. This
-symptom decidedly alarmed the elders, several of
-them sitting up suddenly in their chairs as though
-fearful that so interesting a subject might escape.
-But David had evidently seized it only for purposes
-of reflection, turning it round and round in his hands,
-his eyes fixed upon the floor.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It was a queer kind of a reason," he began abruptly,
-clearing his throat with all the resonance of
-a trumpet—"but mebbe it ain't too bad a one after
-all. It was Madeline," he finally blurted out,
-staring at all the brethren in turn. "I knew she was
-goin' to join—an'—an' I wanted to keep up with
-her. If she's agoin' to heaven, I'm agoin' too—an'
-I reckon this here's the way," he added, feeling that
-the phraseology was not too ill-timed. Then he
-waited.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, Mr. Borland—very good," the
-Moderator pronounced encouragingly. "But
-about—about your own soul. I'm sure we all hope
-you—you—realize your need, Mr. Borland. It's a sense
-of sin we all need, you know. I'm sure you feel
-you've been a sinner, Mr. Borland?" and the good
-man turned the most brotherly of faces upon the
-applicant.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," responded David agreeably; "oh, yes,
-I'm all right that way—I've been quite a sinner,
-all right. The only thing I'm afeart of is I've been
-'most too good a sinner. I wisht I wasn't quite so
-handy at it," he went on gravely. "I reckon I've
-been about as bad as—as any of the deacons here,"
-glancing towards the open-mouthed about him as he
-made the comparison, "an' some o' them's got quite
-a record, if all reports is true. I traded horses onct
-with Robert there," nodding familiarly in the direction
-of Mr. McCaig, "an' the first time we traded, he
-sinned pretty bad—but that's nothin'; bygones is
-bygones—an' anyhow, the second time we traded,
-I sinned pretty bad myself. So I'm all right that
-way, Doctor," he again assured the Moderator,
-making a last desperate effort to tie his hat into a
-knot.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I didna ken the mare was spavined, Moderator,"
-Mr. McCaig broke in, gasping with emotion; "an' a
-meetin' o' session's no place for discussin' sic like
-matters onyway," he appealed vehemently. "Thae
-week-day things has nae richt to be mentioned here—a
-meetin' o' elders is no' a cattle fair," and Robert
-looked well pleased with this final stroke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right, Robert, that's all right," David
-returned in his most amiable tone; "don't get
-excited, Robert—we both traded with our eyes open.
-An' all these things makes life, anyhow—they all go
-to the weavin' of the web, as I say sometimes, an'
-besides——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But Robert's blood was up.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Onyhow, I didna swear," he exclaimed in a rising
-tone; "I didna say damn, Mr. Moderator—an' the
-horse-doctor tellt me as how the candidate afore us
-said damn mair nor aince when he found oot aboot
-the spavin. He'd mak a bonnie member o' the
-kirk!" and the elder's face glowed with righteous
-indignation.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The Moderator cast about to avert the storm.
-"Maybe he was taken unawares," he interposed
-charitably; "any one might be overtaken in a fault.
-Did you, Mr. Borland—did you say what Mr. McCaig
-says you did?" as he turned a very kindly face on
-the accused.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David was more intently employed than ever with
-his hat. "I won't say but what I mebbe did," he
-acknowledged, an unfamiliar confusion in his words.
-"You see, sir, I should a knowed a spavin when I
-seen it; the signs is awful easy told—an' that's what
-made me mad. So I said I was a fool—an' I said
-Robert here was an elder. An' I likely said both of
-us was—was that kind of a fool an' an elder, the kind
-he says I said—it's an awful handy describin' word,"
-he added, nodding respectfully towards the Moderator's chair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So I have heard, Mr. Borland," the Moderator
-replied, smiling reproachfully nevertheless, "though
-I think there are others just as good. However, if
-that is the worst sin you've been guilty of, I wouldn't
-say you're beyond the pale."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, there's lots of things I've done, far worse
-than that," David exclaimed vigorously. "I don't
-allow that's a sin at all—that's just a kind of a spark
-out o' the chimney. I reckon nearly everybody,
-even ministers, says that—only they don't spell it
-just the same. I'd call that just a kind of
-splutter—an' everybody splutters sometimes. Robert there,
-he says 'bless my soul' when he gets beat on a
-trade—but he means just the same as me. Oh, yes,"
-he went cheerfully on, "there's lots o' worse things
-than that against me. There's lots o' little weak
-spots about me; an' I'll tell them if you like—if the
-deacons'll do the same," he proposed, looking
-earnestly around for volunteers.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was no clamour of response, and it fell to
-Geordie Nickle again to break the silence.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"These is no' the main things, David," he began
-solemnly. "Tell us, div ye trust the Saviour wi' yir
-soul?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David halted, the gravity of the question shading
-his face. "I think—I think I do," he ventured after
-a long pause. "I wouldn't trust it to no one else.
-My mother taught me that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"An' div ye want to follow Him, an' to let yir
-licht shine upon the world? Div ye want to be a
-guid soldier, an' wull ye try it, wi' His grace?" the
-old man asked tenderly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David's voice was very low. "I'm not very far on
-the road," he said falteringly, "an' I'm afeared there
-ain't much light in me—but I'd try an' do my best,"
-he concluded earnestly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The venerable elder proceeded with his gentle art,
-leading the belated enquirer on from stage to stage,
-seeking to discover and disclose the hidden treasures
-of the soul. He was never slow to be convinced of
-goodness in any heart that he thought sincere, and
-it was not long till he turned to the Moderator,
-proposing, as before, that this new name should likewise
-be enrolled among those of the faithful.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But one or two thought the examination hardly
-doctrinal enough, nor carried sufficiently far afield.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps Mr. Borland would give us a word or
-two regarding his views on the subject of temperance,"
-suggested Morris Hall. He was a comparatively
-modern elder; in fact, he had been but recently
-reclaimed, one of the first-fruits of a spring revival,
-himself snatched from the vortex of intemperance
-and correspondingly severe upon all successors in his
-folly. For largeness of charity, as a rule, is to be found
-only with those who have been tempted and prevailed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not terrible well up on temperance," David
-began placidly; "but I don't mind givin' you my
-views—oh, no, not at all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then he sank into silence, and the Moderator had
-finally to prompt him. "Very well, then, Mr. Borland,
-give us your views on the subject."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," David began hesitatingly, "my views on
-the subject of temperance is terrible simple. I really
-hardly ever take anything—never touch it at all
-except it's before or after meals," he assured the
-brethren earnestly, the younger men frowning a little, one
-or two of the older nodding approvingly. But none
-seemed to remark how generous was the margin this
-time-table provided for a man of moist propensities.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sometimes, when I run acrost an old friend, if
-he looks kind o' petered out," David went on
-sympathetically, "sometimes then I have a view or
-two—most always soft stuff, though," he enlarged, looking
-hopefully towards his spiritual betters; "most
-generally they takes the same view as me," he informed
-them gravely; "my view is to take it an' let it alone—I
-do both—only I never do them both at the same
-time," he added seriously. "You see, when I'm well
-it doesn't hurt me, and when I'm sick—why, mebbe
-I need somethin'. That's one o' my views. An', oh,
-yes"—he hurried on as if glad that he had not
-forgotten, "I always take a little when a new century
-comes in—I took a little when the clock struck 1900;
-it's been a custom for quite awhile in our family,
-always to take a little when a new century comes
-in—a man has to be careful it doesn't grow on him,
-you see. So I confine it pretty much to them two
-occasions. An' I think them's pretty much all my
-views, gentlemen, on the subject o' liquors. The
-less views a man has on them, the better. It's the
-worst plague there is—an' I'm gettin' more set agin'
-it all the time," and David nodded to the elders in
-quite an admonitory way.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But these views, simple and candid though they
-were, were far from satisfactory to Mr. Morris Hall,
-who violently declaimed against such laxity, and
-quoted statistics concerning poorhouses, jails and
-lunatic asylums in much the same tone, and with the
-same facility, that a boy exhibits when quoting the
-multiplication table. Mr. Hall concluded with an
-appeal to David's sense of shame.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This was rather much for the gentle candidate,
-familiar as he was with the impeacher's record in
-days that were yet hardly dry.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's one thing sure, anyhow," he returned hotly,
-in his intensity of feeling. "I didn't never have to be
-toted home on a stone-boat—that's one thing certain." This
-was a reference to authentic history of no ancient
-sort, and Mr. Hall's relapse to silence was as final as
-it was precipitate.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Whereupon Geordie Nickle again reverted to his
-motion that Mr. Borland be received. He briefly
-reviewed the case, emphasizing the obvious simplicity
-and candour that had been remarked by all, while
-admitting David's evident unfamiliarity with the formulas
-and doctrines of the church.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But there's mony a man loves flowers wha disna
-ken naethin' aboot botany," he pleaded; "an' there's
-mony a soul luvin' Christ, an' trustin' till Him, wha
-kens little or naethin' aboot theology."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This view seemed to prevail with the majority, and
-the proposal of the kindly elder would doubtless have
-been speedily endorsed, had it not been for the
-protest from David himself. "I'm terrible thankful for
-your kindness to a lame duck like me—but I believe
-I'd jest as soon wait awhile," he said. "I'll try an'
-follow up the best I can. But Dick Phin's comin' to
-visit me next week—Dick's an old crony I haven't
-seen for a dog's age. An' besides, Robert there has
-kind o' set me thinkin'; an' I jest minded Tom
-Taylor's comin' on Monday to try an' trade back the
-three-year-old he got in August. So I think mebbe
-I'd better wait. But I'll follow up the best I can."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="sheltering-shadows"><span class="bold large">X</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">SHELTERING SHADOWS</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Two chestnut steeds, securely tied, looked
-reproachfully at the retreating figures as
-Madeline and her father pressed on beneath
-the shadow of the great oaks that looked down upon
-the merry picnickers. For Glenallen's Sunday-school
-scholars were </span><em class="italics">en fête</em><span> beneath them. Very
-gladly did these mighty guardians of the grove seem
-to welcome back the happy throng as each returning
-summer brought the festal day. And very tenderly
-did they seem to look down upon the varied
-pleasure-seekers that gathered beneath their whispering
-branches; children, in all the helplessness of
-childhood, mingling with other toddlers whose was the
-helplessness of age—little tots whose toilsome
-journey was at hand, and patriarchs whose weary
-pilgrimage was almost past. Many were there whose
-fathers' fathers, snatching a brief truce from their
-struggle with the poverty and stress of early days,
-had rested and rollicked as only pioneers know how;
-masters and men, their respective ranks forgotten,
-had sat side by side about the teeming board, or
-entered the lists together as they flung the bounding
-caber, or raced across the meadow-sward, or heaved
-the gleaming quoits, or strained the creaking cable
-in the final and glorious tug of war.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As David Borland and his daughter drew near to
-the central group of picnickers, they found them
-employed in a very savoury task. They were emptying
-the baskets one by one, the good things translated
-promiscuously to the ample table around which
-all were about to take their places. Pies of every
-sort there were, cakes of every imaginable brand and
-magnitude, sandwiches, fruits, pickles, hams that
-would waddle, fowls that would cackle, tongues that
-would join the lowing choir, nevermore—all these
-conspired to swell the overflowing larder.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly David's eyes fell on a face in the
-distance, a face for which he had long had a peculiar
-liking. It was Geordie Nickle's, the old man sitting
-apart on a little mound, his kindly eyes bright with
-gladness at the lively scene around him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You go off an' have a swing, Madeline," he said;
-"I'm goin' to have a chat with my friend Geordie
-here—I'll see you in a little while."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Madeline scarcely heard him nor did any response
-escape her lips. For other words had fallen on her
-ears, hot and tingling now with shame and indignation.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't this the limit," a jibing voice was saying;
-"isn't this the human limit?—rhubarb tarts! Three
-of them! Who wants to buy a tin plate?" the voice
-went jeeringly on. It was Cecil Craig's voice, and he
-held the humble contributions aloft as he spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There must be some awful rich folks here to-day—I
-guess these tarts are meant for the minister. That's
-all there is in the basket—so I guess some one must
-keep a rhubarb farm; look at the size of them—big
-as a full moon! I believe I'll give them to my
-horse," he cried with a contemptuous laugh. "Have
-you any idea who sent these, Harvey?" turning
-with the question to the conscious boy who stood on
-the outer edge of the circle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A few joined in thoughtless laughter. But it was
-no laughing matter for poor Harvey, trying now to
-steal alone and unnoticed from among the throng.
-Yet not alone; for one humble little form clung
-close beside him, retreating as rapidly as he, her face
-flushed and drawn. They had taken but a few steps
-when Jessie's hand stole caressingly into her
-brother's, the little legs trying eagerly to keep pace
-with his ardent stride.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't mind, Harvey, don't mind," she said
-soothingly. "He's just as mean as he can be. It's
-all because he's rich—an' he thinks we're poor. He
-doesn't know how good mother is at makin' tarts, or
-he wouldn't talk like that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey glanced at his sister as though he scarcely
-saw her. His eyes, usually so mild, were now almost
-terrible in their fiery anger, and his hand closed so
-tightly over his sister's that she cried out in pain.
-Once he looked swiftly back and caught a glimpse of
-Cecil leering at him in the distance; he fixed his
-teeth tight together and strode swiftly on.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Aren't you goin' back, Harvey?" Jessie enquired
-a little wistfully. "I'm real hungry, Harvey—an' I
-saw chickens there, an' there was some peaches
-too—they looked awful nice," she said earnestly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Going back!" Harvey almost shouted. "No,
-you bet I'm not going back—and neither are you;
-I'd starve before I'd touch a bite of their stuff. A
-lot of stuck-up things," he cried passionately, "and
-you and me cast out everywhere because we're
-poor! I'll show them yet—you just see if I don't;
-if I can get half a chance—and to think the way poor
-mother worked at them, and she thought she was
-making something real nice too, and——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"An' she put sugar in them too, Harvey—an' she
-hardly ever puts sugar in anything now. She put
-lots of butter an' sugar in, for I saw her. But ain't
-you goin' back, Harvey?—there's lemonade, you
-know, a whole boiler full of it. I tasted it and it was
-lovely," she assured him, looking wistfully up into
-the angry face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The young whelp!" Harvey muttered wrathfully;
-"hasn't any more brains than a handspike—hasn't
-got anything but a rich, proud father—I'll fix
-him yet, you see if I don't." Suddenly he stopped,
-standing still as the trees around him. "Hello!" he
-said musingly, then began whistling significantly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter, Harvey?" asked the mystified
-Jessie.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, nothing—nothing at all. In fact, everything's
-all right—see that sorrel horse tied to that hemlock
-over there? It's Cecil Craig's."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," replied Jessie wonderingly; "it's kickin'
-with its legs," she added informatively—"what's it
-doin' that for, Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Flies," replied the other absently. "I say,
-Jessie," he began in quite a different tone, his brow
-clearing like a headland when the fog is lifting, "you
-better go on back and get your dinner—don't eat too
-much," he added cautiously, for Jessie, her hand still
-tight in his, had already turned right about face, her
-radiant gaze fixed on the distant tables; "and you
-know mother doesn't want you to take any stuffin'—you'll
-have to take castor oil if you eat any stuffin',
-Jessie."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you go, Harvey?" his sister asked eagerly,
-supremely indifferent to matters medicinal; she was
-already pressing onward, half leading her brother by
-the hand. The boy started to refuse vigorously.
-Suddenly, however, he seemed to change his mind.
-"I'll go back with you for a minute, Jessie—just a
-minute, mind. I'll get you a seat if I can; but I'll
-have to come right away again. I've got—I've got
-to do something."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The hungry Jessie asked no further information,
-well content, poor child, to regain the treat she had
-so nearly lost. Her hurrying legs twinkled in the
-sun as she led the way, Harvey following, half
-reluctantly, back to the appetizing scene. The boy looked
-at no one as he mingled with the excited throng;
-nor did many remark his return, so all absorbed are
-youthful minds in one pursuit alone when that pursuit
-leads to the dinner-table. This pleased Harvey
-well; and, confident of their indifference, he took his
-place beside the three bulky tarts that had been the
-text for Cecil's scorn.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Good Dr. Fletcher's special care, at such a fête as
-this, was to see that all heads were reverently bowed
-while grace was being said. And so they were on
-this occasion, all but Harvey's. Availing himself of
-the opportune devotion, he thrust the unoffending
-tarts roughly within the shelter of his coat, buttoning
-it tightly over them, quite careless of results. Then,
-wild chaos and savage attack succeeding the reverent
-calm, while his ravenous companions fell upon the
-viands like starving animals, he quietly withdrew,
-holding his coat carefully about him as he went.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>David Borland and the venerable Geordie Nickle
-were deep in conversation as Harvey passed them by
-at a little distance, finding his way back to the outer
-fringe of woods.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yon's an uncommon laddie," Geordie remarked
-to David, his staff pointed in the direction of the
-disappearing boy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who? Oh, yes—that's Harvey. You're right,
-Mr. Nickle; the grass doesn't grow very green under
-Harvey's feet. He works for me, you know—does a
-little drivin' between four and six."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did ye hear aboot the minister, David? He was
-sair vexed wi' Mr. Craig; he went till him, ye ken,
-to get a wee bit help for the laddie's mither—her
-eyesicht's failin', it seems. An' Mr. Craig wudna gie
-him onythin'."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David was busy kicking to pieces a slab of dead
-wood at his feet. "That man Craig makes me mad,"
-he said warmly—"thinks he owns the earth 'cause
-he's got a little money. He got the most of it from
-his father, anyhow—he hasn't got brains enough
-himself to make his head ache. An' it looks like the
-young cub's goin' to be a chip o' the old block; you
-can see it stickin' right out of him now," he declared,
-nodding towards the blustering Cecil, who was flinging
-his orders here and there.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I was thinkin' ower the maitter, David," the old
-man went on quietly; "I was thinkin' mebbe I micht
-gie the puir buddy a wee bit help mysel'—I hae a wee
-bit siller, ye ken, an' I haena vera muckle to dae wi't.
-Div ye think ye cud see aboot it, David?—aboot
-sendin' his mither till the city doctor, ye ken? I cud
-gie the money to yirsel', an' naebody need ken aboot
-it but us twa." Poor Geordie looked half ashamed
-as he made the offer; such is the fashion of his kind.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's mighty clever of you," David answered,
-smiling a little curiously, "and I'd be terrible glad to
-fix it for you—only I happen to know it's fixed
-already. Just found that out to-day. A fellow sent
-the money to them—some fellow that doesn't want
-any one to know. But it's just as good of you, all
-the same, Mr. Nickle."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, aye, aye, I ken," Geordie responded enigmatically,
-"aye—juist that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, he's a mighty smart boy," David resumed
-quickly, to hide a little embarrassment. "He works
-like a beaver all day; steady as a clock and bright as
-a dollar. It's a darned shame he hasn't got a better
-chance—that boy'd be heard from yet if he got some
-eddication," he concluded, opening the big blade of
-his jack-knife and beginning operations on a leafy
-limb he had just broken off.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Geordie's face was full of sympathetic interest.
-"Div ye ken, David, I've been thinkin' the same
-aboot the laddie. Dr. Fletcher tellt me aboot him
-first—an' I've been enquirin', an' watchin' him a wee
-bit in a canny kind o' a way, since the nicht he jined
-the kirk. An' I've got a wee bit plan, David—I've
-got a wee bit plan."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Mr. Nickle?" David responded encouragingly,
-throwing away the leafy limb and sitting
-squarely round.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's no' quite a fittin' time to mak ony promises,"
-the cautious Scotchman went on, seeing that David
-expected him to continue. "But ye ken, David, I
-hae neither wife nor bairns noo; they're a' wi' God,"
-he added, bowing reverently, "an' yon laddie kind
-o' minds me o' wee Airchie—Airchie died wi' the
-scarlet fever. An' I've been thinkin', David, I've
-been thinkin' I never spent the siller that wud hae
-gone for Airchie's schoolin'. Ye ken, David, div ye
-no'?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David knew not how to answer. But his heart
-was more nimble than his lips. "I was awful sorry
-when you lost your little boy," he said, his eyes upon
-the ground; "I never had a son myself—so you're
-better off nor me."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="food-for-thought"><span class="bold large">XI</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">FOOD FOR THOUGHT</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>One pair of eyes, at least, had watched
-Harvey's unostentatious retreat from the
-clamorous throng about the table. And
-no sooner had Madeline noted his departure than
-she quietly slipped into the vacant place beside his
-sister, who welcomed her with a smile as generous
-as the absorbing intensity of the moment would
-permit. Madeline's cheeks were still rosy with the
-flush of angry resentment that Cecil's cruel words
-had started. Twice had he taken his place beside
-her at the table, and twice she had moved away;
-even now his eyes seemed to follow her, casting
-conciliatory glances that found no response.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The picnic feast was finally concluded—but not
-till sheer physical inability proclaimed a truce—and
-Madeline and Jessie withdrew together.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's go down into the gully, Jessie," Madeline
-suggested, pointing towards a slight ravine a little
-way in the distance; "I think we'd find flowers
-there, perhaps."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie was agreed. "But I wish Harvey would
-come," she said; "I wonder where he is—he went
-away just when we began our dinner."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, he's all right," replied the older girl. "I
-saw him going away—he'll be back in a little."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"An' I didn't see—I didn't see the rhubarb
-tarts mother made," Jessie continued, her mind
-still busy with the missing. "You don't suppose
-Cecil Craig threw them away, do you?" she asked,
-suddenly fearful; "he's so mean."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't let's speak about him at all," Madeline
-interrupted. "The tarts are all right," she went on
-consolingly. "I saw one boy very—very busy with
-them," she concluded dexterously. "Besides," she
-added, the connection not so obvious as her tone
-would indicate, "I've got something to say to
-you, Jessie—sit down; sit down beside me here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie obeyed and they sank together on a mossy
-mound, a few stately oaks and maples whispering
-welcome; for they were jealous trees, and had
-begrudged the central grove its throng of happy children,
-the merry scene just visible from their topmost
-boughs.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've got awful good news for you, Jessie," Madeline
-began ardently, after a momentary struggle as
-to how she should introduce the subject.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's it about?" Jessie asked, her eyes opening wide.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's about your mother," answered Madeline.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie looked gravely at the other.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Anything about the tarts?" she enquired
-earnestly, her mind still absorbed with the
-tragedy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no—of course it's not about anything like
-that. It's about her eyes—I'm pretty sure they're
-going to get well."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie's own were dancing. "Who said so?
-Why? Tell me quick."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I know all about everything," Madeline
-replied, importantly. "I know about you wanting
-to take her to the doctor in the city—and she's
-going to go," she affirmed conclusively.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"When?" Jessie demanded swiftly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Any time—to-morrow, if you like," Madeline
-returned triumphantly, withdrawing her hand from
-her bosom and thrusting the crisp notes into Jessie's;
-"my father gave me all that money to-day—and it's
-to pay the doctor—it's to pay everything," she
-amended jubilantly. "Only father doesn't want
-any one to know who did it—when do you think
-she'll go, Jessie?" she asked, a little irrelevantly,
-for matters had taken a rather unexpected turn.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie was staring at her through swimming eyes,
-the import of the great moment too much for her
-childish soul. Her mother's face passed before her,
-beautiful in its tender patience; and all the pathos
-of the long struggle, so nearly over now, broke upon
-the little mind that knew not what pathos meant
-except by the slow tuition of a sorrow-clouded life.
-Poor child, she little knew by what relentless
-limitations even great city doctors may be bound.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it because you're glad, Jessie?" Madeline
-enquired in a reverent sort of voice, dimly
-diagnosing the paradox of human joy. But Jessie
-answered never a word; her gaze was fixed downward
-now upon the money, such a sum of it as she had
-never seen before in her poor meagre life. And the
-big tears fell on the unconscious things lying in
-her lap, the poor dead symbols baptized and quickened
-by the living tokens of human love and feeling.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," she sobbed at last, "it's 'cause I'm
-glad—mother'll be able to see the flowers now, an'
-the birds, an' everything—she loves them so. An'
-poor Harvey won't have to spend his raspberry
-money; he hasn't any winter coat, but now—I'm
-nearly as glad for Harvey as I am for mother," she
-broke off, suddenly drying her eyes, the ever-ready
-smile of childhood returning to the playground from
-which the tears had driven it.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What makes you so glad about Harvey?"
-Madeline broke in, hailing the returning smile with
-one no less radiant of her own.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Because—because mother was sorrier about Harvey
-than anything else. You see, he's nearly ready
-to—to be a scholar. An' mother always said she'd
-be able to do everything for Harvey—everything
-like that, you know—if she could only see. Our
-Harvey's goin' to be a great man—if he gets a
-chance," she prophesied solemnly, looking straight
-into Madeline's face, the bills quite forgotten now,
-one or two of them having fallen among the leaves
-upon the grass.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mind you, our Harvey isn't always goin' to be
-poor—mother says there's lots of rich people gets
-poor, an' lots of poor people gets rich. An' that's
-what Harvey's goin' to be—an' mother an' me's
-goin' to help him," the little loyalist proclaimed, her
-face beaming with confidence.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This opened up quite a vein of conversation, to
-which the youthful minds addressed themselves for a
-serious season. Finally, forgetting all philosophic
-matters, Jessie exclaimed: "I wonder where Harvey
-is—he doesn't often leave me alone like this. Won't
-he be glad though?—I'm goin' to find Harvey."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Little did either of them dream how the object of
-their wonderings had been employed while they were
-sequestered in their peaceful nook.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Having left the table, Harvey loitered about till
-varying sounds assured him that the meal he had
-abandoned was completed. Then he strode along
-till he stood beside the drowsy sorrel, still doing
-spasmodic battle with the flies. Unbuttoning his
-coat, he removed the tarts and hid them in a hollow
-log; their confinement had not improved them
-much. Then he stood a while, pondering. A
-relieved and purposeful expression at length indicated
-that his mind was formed. But considerable time
-elapsed before a wandering urchin hove in sight—and
-such a being was absolutely necessary. The boy
-who thus suddenly appeared was evidently bent on
-an inspection of the animal, looking even from afar
-with the critical eye that universal boyhood turns
-upon a horse. The youngster drifted nearer and
-nearer; he was contriving to chew a slab of tamarack
-gum and eat an apple at one and the self-same time,
-which tempered his gait considerably.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey nimbly slipped the noose in the bridle
-rein, the strap dangling free; the horse was quite
-oblivious, trying to snatch a little sleep between
-skirmishes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello there!" Harvey called to the boy, "come
-here—I want you to run a message."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The boy responded with a slightly quickened pace,
-and was almost at his side when he suddenly stood
-still and emitted a dreary howl.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter?" Harvey asked, slightly
-alarmed, the sorrel waking completely and looking
-around at the newcomer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I bit my tongue," the urchin wailed, disgorging
-his varied grist as he spoke. The dual process had
-been too complicated for him and he cautiously
-pasted the gum about a glass alley, storing both
-away in his breeches pocket. Then he bent his
-undivided powers upon the apple.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That'll soon be all right," Harvey assured
-him—"rub it with your gums," he directed luminously.
-"Don't you see that horse is loose?—well, I want
-you to run back and tell Cecil Craig his horse has got
-untied; don't tell him who said so."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What'll you give me?" enquired he of the
-wounded tongue, extending the injured member with
-telescopic fluency, squinting one eye violently down
-to survey it. "Is it bleedin'?" he asked tenderly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No—'tisn't even cut," Harvey responded curtly,
-examining it seriously, nevertheless, with the
-sympathy that belongs to boyhood. "Let it back—you
-look like a jay-bird."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The other withdrew it reluctantly, the distorted eye
-slowly recovering its orbit till it rested on Harvey's
-face. "What'll you give me?" he asked again,
-making another savage onslaught on the apple.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey fumbled in his pocket, rather dismayed.
-But his face lightened as his hand came forth. "I'll
-give you this tooth-brush," he said, holding out a
-sorely wasted specimen. "I found it on the railroad
-track—some one dropped it, I guess. Or I'll give
-you this garter," exposing a gaudy circlet of elastic,
-fatigued and springless; "I found it after the circus
-moved away."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The smaller boy's face lit up a moment at reference
-to the sacred institution whose departure had left life
-so dreary.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Charlie Winter found a shirt-stud an' half a pair
-of braces there," he said sympathetically; "he gave
-the shirt-stud to his sister, but he wears the braces
-hisself," he added, completing the humble tale.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Which'll you take?" Harvey enquired abruptly,
-fearful lest the sorrel might awaken to his liberty.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't want that," the younger said
-contemptuously, glancing at the emaciated tooth-brush;
-"we've got one at home—a better one than that.
-An' I don't wear garters," he added scornfully,
-glancing downwards at his bare legs, "except on
-Sundays, an' I've got one for that—the left leg never
-comes down. Haven't you got anything else?" he
-queried, looking searchingly in the direction of
-Harvey's pocket.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, that's all I've got," returned Harvey as he
-restored the tooth-brush to its resting-place, still
-hopeful, however, of the garter. "It'll make an awful
-good catapult," he suggested seriously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me see it," said the bargainer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey handed it to him. "I'll hold your apple,"
-he offered.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, never mind," the other replied discreetly;
-"I'll just hold it in my mouth," the memory of
-similar service and its tragic outcome floating before
-him. The boy took the flaming article in his hand
-and drew it back, snapping it several times against
-the sole of his uplifted foot.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," he said, withdrawing what survived
-of the apple, "it's a little mushy—but I'll take it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The errand having been repeated in detail, the
-youngster departed to perform it, an apple stem—but
-never a core—falling by the wayside as he went.
-Harvey gazed towards the brow of the hill till he
-caught the first glimpse of a hurrying form, then
-slipped in behind the tree, carefully concealed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Cecil Craig came apace, for he could see the
-dangling strap at a little distance. Hurriedly
-retying the horse, he was about to retrace his steps
-when he suddenly felt himself in the grip of an
-evidently hostile hand, securely attached from behind to
-the collar of his coat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now you can ask me those questions if you
-like," he heard a rather hoarse voice saying; and
-writhing round he looked into a face flaming with a
-wrath that was rekindling fast.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Young Craig both squirmed and squealed; but the
-one was as fruitless as the other. Harvey was bent
-on dealing faithfully with him; and lack of spirit, rather
-than of strength, made the struggle a comparatively
-unequal one. After the preliminary application was
-completed, he dragged Craig to where he had hidden
-the rhubarb tarts, still crestfallen from solitary
-confinement.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why don't you make some more jokes about the
-tarts my mother made?" Harvey enquired hotly;
-"you were real funny about them just before
-dinner." This reference to his mother seemed to
-fan the flame of his wrath anew, and another
-application was the natural result.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me go," Cecil gasped. "I was only joking—ouch!
-I was just joking, I say," as he tried to
-release himself from Harvey's tightening grip.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So'm I," retorted Harvey; "just a piece of play,
-the same as yours—only we're kind o' slow at seeing
-the fun of it, eh?" shaking the now solemn humourist
-till his hair rose and fell—"I'd have seen the
-point a good deal quicker if my mother hadn't worked
-so hard," he went on, flushing with the recollection
-and devoting himself anew to the facetious industry.
-"Pick up those tarts," he thundered suddenly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Cecil looked incredulously at his antagonist. One
-glance persuaded him and he slowly picked up one
-by the outer edge.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Take 'em all—the whole three," Harvey directed
-in a low tense tone. Which Cecil immediately did,
-not deeming the time opportune to refuse.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now give them to your horse," Harvey said;
-"you know you said you'd a good mind to feed him
-with them."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't do it," Cecil declared stoutly. "I'll fight
-before I do it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey smiled. "It won't do to have any fighting,"
-he said amiably. "I'll just give them to him
-myself—you better come along," he suggested,
-tightening his grip as he saw Cecil glancing fondly
-towards the brow of the hill, visions of a more
-peaceful scene calling him to return.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey escorted his captive to the horse's head;
-the equine was now wide awake and taking a lively
-interest in the animated interview; such preparations
-for mounting he had never seen before. But he was
-evidently disinclined to be drawn into the argument;
-for when Harvey held the rhubarb pie, rather
-battle-worn now, beneath his nose, he sniffed
-contemptuously and turned scornfully away.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Cecil, somewhat convalescent, indulged a sneering
-little laugh. "Your little joke don't work," he said.
-"Pompey won't look at "em."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll wish he had, before you're through with
-them," Harvey returned significantly—"you've got
-to eat them between you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Got to what?—between who?" Cecil gasped,
-years of grammatical instruction wasted now as the
-dread prospect dawned grim and gray; "I don't
-understand you," he faltered, turning remarkably
-white for one so utterly in the dark.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It doesn't need much understanding," Harvey
-returned laconically. "Go ahead."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then the real struggle began; compared to this
-difference of opinion, and the physical demonstration
-wherein it found expression, the previous
-encounter was but as kittens' frolic in the sun.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The opening argument concluded after a protracted
-struggle, Harvey emerged uppermost, still pressing his
-hospitality upon the prostrate Cecil. "May as well
-walk the plank," he was saying; "besides, they're
-getting dryer all the time," he informed him as a friend.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let me up," gurgled Cecil. Harvey promptly
-released him; seated on a log, the latter began to
-renew the debate.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've had my dinner," he pleaded; "an' I ate all I
-could."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A little more won't hurt you—always room at
-the top, you know. Anyhow it's just dessert,"
-responded Harvey, holding out one of the tarts.
-Whereat Cecil again valiantly refused—and a worthy
-demonstration followed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The conquered at last kissed the rod and the
-solemn operation began, Harvey cheerfully breaking
-off chunk after chunk and handing them to the weary
-muncher. "There's lots of poor children in New
-York would be glad to get them," he said in answer
-to one of Cecil's most vigorous protests.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Say," murmured the stall-fed as he paused,
-almost mired in the middle of tart number two, "let
-me take the rest home an' eat 'em there—I'll really
-eat 'em—on my honour; I promise you," he declared
-solemnly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm surprised a fellow brought up like you would
-think of carryin' stuff home to eat it—that's bad
-form. Here, take it—shut your eyes and open your
-mouth," commanded his keeper, holding another
-generous fragment to his lips.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I say," gulped Cecil plaintively, "give us a
-drink—it's chokin' me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Shouldn't drink at your meals," returned Harvey;
-"bad for your digestion—but I guess a drop or two
-won't hurt you. Here, come this way—put on your
-cap—an' fetch that along," pointing at the surviving
-tart; "the exercise'll do you good," and he led the
-way downwards to a little brook meandering through
-the woods. No hand was on the victim's collar now;
-poor Cecil was in no shape for flight.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Give us your cap," said Harvey, thrusting it into
-the sparkling water and holding the streaming
-receptacle to Cecil's lips; "that's enough—that'll do
-just now; don't want you to get foundered."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've had enough," groaned the guest a minute
-later, as if the moment had only come; "I've got it
-nearly all down—an' I hate crusts. I won't; by
-heavens, I tell you I won't," bracing himself as
-vigorously as his cargo would permit.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm the one to say when you've had enough,"
-Harvey retorted shortly, throwing himself into
-battle array as he spoke, "an' you bet you'll eat the
-crusts—I'll teach you to eat what's set before you an'
-make no remarks about the stuff—specially when it's
-not your own," he said, reverting to the original
-offense and warming up at the recollection. "You'd
-make a great fight, wouldn't you—fightin' you'd be
-like fightin' a bread-puddin'," he concluded scornfully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Cecil munched laboriously on. "There," Harvey
-suddenly interrupted, "now you've had enough—that
-wasn't rhubarb you were eatin'," he flung
-contemptuously at him; "'twas crow—an' that'll teach
-you to make sport of folks you think beneath you.
-You'll have some food for thought for a while—you'd
-better walk round a bit," he concluded with a grin as
-he turned and strode away, leaving the inlaid Cecil
-alone with his burdened bosom.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-encircling-gloom"><span class="bold large">XII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE ENCIRCLING GLOOM</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Real boyhood, with its cheerfulness amid
-present cares and its oblivion to those that
-were yet to come, was almost past. Such
-at least would have been the opinion of any accurate
-observer if he had noted Harvey's face that summer
-morning as he pressed along the city street. A
-deeper seriousness than mere years bestow looked out
-from the half-troubled, half-hopeful gaze; not that it
-was ill-becoming—the contrary rather—for there was
-something of steady resoluteness in his eyes that
-attested his purpose to play some worthy part in this
-fevered life whose stern and warlike face had already
-looked its challenge to his own.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>How pathetic were many a poor procession—and
-how romantic too—if we could but see the invisibles
-that accompany the humblest trudgers on the
-humblest street!</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>For Memory and Hope and Fear and Sorrow and
-silent Pain—Death too, noiselessly pursuing—and
-Love, chiefest of them all, mute and anguished
-often-times, crowding Death aside and battling bravely in
-the shadowy struggle; how often might all these be
-seen accompanying the lowly, had we but the
-lightened vision!</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thus was it there that summer day. The careless
-noticed nothing but a well developed lad, his poor
-clothes as carefully repaired and brushed as faithful
-hands could make them for his visit to the city; and they
-saw beside him only a white-faced woman, her whole
-mien marked by timidity and gentleness, as if she
-felt how poor and small was the part she played in
-the surging life about her. Both made their way
-carefully, keeping close in under the shadow of the
-buildings, as if anxious to escape the jostling throng.
-The woman's hand was in her son's; she seemed to
-be trusting altogether to his guidance and protection,
-and very tenderly he shielded her from the little
-perils of the street. Timidly, yet right eagerly, they
-made their way—for the quest was a great one; and
-all the years to come, they knew, were wrapped in
-the bosom of that anxious hour.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hadn't we better get on one of those street cars,
-mother?" the boy asked, glancing wistfully at a
-passing trolley. "I'm sure you're tired."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How much does it cost, Harvey?" the mother asked.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not very sure, but I think it's ten cents for
-us both," he answered, relaxing his pace.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The mother pressed on anew. "We can't afford
-it, dear," she said; "it'll take such a lot to pay
-the doctor—we'll have to save all we can; and I'm
-not very tired," she concluded, taking his hand
-again.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When, after much of scrutiny and more of enquiry,
-they stood at length before the doctor's imposing
-place, both instinctively stopped and gazed a little,
-the outlines of the stately house floating but very
-dimly before the woman's wistful eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will we ask him how much it costs before we go
-in?" Harvey's mother asked him anxiously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The boy pondered a moment. "I don't think so,"
-he said at length; "he mightn't like it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But perhaps we haven't got enough."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we can send the rest after we get
-home—I've got the raspberry money left."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The woman sighed and smiled together, permitting
-herself to be led on up the steps.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's hand was on the bell: "You don't suppose
-he'll do anything to you, will he, mother? He
-won't hurt you, will he?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, child, of course not; he'll make me
-well," his mother said reassuringly. In a moment
-the bell was answered and the excited pair were ushered in.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Nothing could have been more kindly than their
-reception at the hands of the eminent doctor; nor
-could the most distinguished patient have been more
-carefully and sympathetically examined. Almost
-breathless, Harvey sat waiting for the verdict.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But the doctor was very vague in his conclusions.
-"You must use this lotion. And—and we'll hope
-for the best," he said; "and whenever you're in the
-city you must come and see me—don't make a
-special trip for that purpose, of course," he added
-cautiously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?" Harvey asked acutely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor made an evasive reply. Harvey's face
-was dark.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How much is it?" he said in a hollow voice, his
-hand going to his pocket as he spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that's not important—we'll just leave that
-till you're in the city again," said the kindly doctor,
-shaking Harvey playfully by the shoulder.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd sooner pay it now, sir; I've got—I've got
-some money," declared the boy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, all right," returned the physician; "let me
-see—how would a dollar appeal to you? My charge
-will be one dollar," he said gravely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey was busy unwinding his little roll. "It's
-not very much," he said without looking up; "I
-thought 'twould be a lot more than that—I haven't
-got anything smaller than five dollars, sir."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Neither have I—what a rich bunch we are," the
-doctor answered quickly; "I tell you—I'm liable
-to be up in Glenallen some of these days for a bowling
-match; I'll just collect it then," leading the way
-towards the door as he spoke, his farewell full of
-cordial cheer.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Neither mother nor son uttered a word till they
-were some little distance from the doctor's office.
-Suddenly the former spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The world's full of trouble, Harvey—but I believe
-it's fuller of kindness. It's wonderful how many
-tender-hearted folks there are. Wasn't it good of
-him?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey made no answer, but his hand loosened
-itself from hers. "I believe I—I forgot something,"
-he said abruptly. "Just wait here, mother; I'll be
-back in just a minute—you can rest here, see,"
-leading her to a bench on the green sward of a little
-crescent not much more than half a stone's throw
-away.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A minute later he was back in the doctor's office,
-the surprised physician opening the door himself.
-"What's the matter, boy—forgotten something?"
-he queried.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," Harvey answered stoutly, his face very
-white; "but I knew you didn't tell me everything,
-sir—and I want to know. I want you to tell me
-now, quick—mother's waiting."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why do you want to know, laddie?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Because she's my mother, sir. And I've got a
-little sister at home—and I'm going to take care of
-them both; and I want to know if mother's eyes are
-going to get better, sir," he almost panted, one
-statement chasing the other as fast as the words could
-come.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor's face was soft with grave compassion;
-long years of familiarity with human suffering had
-not chilled that sacred fire. Putting his arm about
-the youth's shoulder, he drew the throbbing form
-close to him. "My boy," he began in a low voice,
-"I won't deceive you. Your mother's eyesight is
-almost gone. But still," he hastened on as the lad
-started and turned his pleading eyes up to the
-doctor's face, "it might come back—you can never
-tell. It's an affection of the optic nerve—it's often
-aggravated by a violent shock of some kind—and
-I've had cases where it did come back. It might
-return, lad, might come very slowly or very
-suddenly—and I can say no more than that."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The poor boy never moved; the mournful eyes
-never wandered an instant from the doctor's face.
-The silence seemed long; at least to the physician.
-One or two patients had arrived meantime, waiting
-in the outer room—and a coachman's shining hat
-could be seen through the spacious window. But
-it did not dawn on Harvey that such a doctor could
-have any other care in all the world, or any serious
-duty except such as now engrossed them both.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you going to do?" the physician said
-presently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going back to my mother," the boy
-answered simply, picking up his hat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," and the other repressed a smile; "but
-I mean—what are you going to do at home? What
-will you go at in Glenallen—you go to school, don't
-you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going to work all the time," Harvey replied
-resolutely, moving along the hall.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor's hand was on the door. "I'm sorry
-for you, my lad," he said gently. "But there's
-always hope—we're all God's patients after all," he
-added earnestly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey put his hand against the opening door,
-his face turning in fullness of candour and trust
-towards the doctor.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've prayed about mother for a long time," he
-said; "is it any use to keep on, sir? You're a
-specialist and you ought to know."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor closed the door quite tight. "Don't
-let any specialist settle that matter for you," he said
-a little hoarsely. "It often seems as if the good
-Lord wouldn't begin till they get through. So you
-pray on, my lad—for there's no healing, after all, but
-comes from God." Then he opened the door and
-the broken-hearted went out into the street.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Suffused and dim, blinking bravely through it
-all, were the mournful eyes as Harvey retraced his
-steps towards his mother; swift and deep was the
-train of thought that wound its way through his
-troubled mind. For there is no ally to deep and
-earnest thinking like a loving heart that anguish
-has bestirred—all true quickening of our mental
-faculties is the handiwork of the soul. Harvey
-saw the trees, the sky, the birds between—all
-different now, more precious, more wonderful to behold;
-for he saw them in the light of his mother's
-deepening darkness, and the glory of all that was
-evanishing from her appeared the more beautiful, pitifully
-beautiful, to his own misty eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Involuntarily he thought of the future; of the
-twilight years that lay beyond—and his inward
-eyes turned shuddering away. The years that were
-past, those at least that had come and gone before
-the threatening shadow first appeared, seemed to lie
-behind him like a lane of light. Poverty and
-obscurity and sorrow and care had been well content
-to abide together in their humble home—almost
-their only guests save love. Yet his memory now
-of those earlier years was only of their gladness, their
-happiness, their light—all the rest had vanished like
-a dream when one awakes. He remembered only
-that they two, the fatherless, had been wont to look
-deep and lovingly into the eyes that looked back
-their wealth of fondness into the children's
-faces—night or day, day or night, that light was never
-quenched; they could see her and she could
-see them—and to look was to possess, though his
-early thoughts could not have defined this mystic
-truth, cherish it fondly though they did. But for the
-future—ah me! for the future, with blindness in a
-mother's eyes.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Yet Harvey's thought, swift and pensive as it was,
-was troubled by no prospect of burden for himself
-and by no apprehension of all the load that must
-be moved, under cover of the fast-falling dark, from
-his mother's shoulders to his own. His thought was
-what must be called heart-thought, and that alone.
-If a fleeting view of new responsibilities, or a
-melting picture of his sister's face, hung for a moment
-before the inward eye, it retreated fast before the
-great vision that flooded his soul with tenderness,
-the vision of a woman—and she his mother—sitting
-apart in the silence and the dark, the busy hands
-denied the luxury of work, the ever-open Bible closed
-before her, the great world of beauty receding into
-shadow; and, most of all, there rose before him the
-image of her face, unresponsive and unsmiling when
-the tender eyes of her own children should fall upon
-it, mutely searching, yearning silently for the
-answering sunshine of days that would come no more.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Without a word Harvey took his seat beside his
-mother. Her hand slipped quietly out and took
-his own, but without speech or sound—and in that
-moment Harvey learned, as he had never known before,
-how cruel are the lips of silence. Suddenly he
-noticed a cab, rolling idly along, the driver throwing
-his eyes hither and thither, poising like a kingfisher
-for its plunge.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The boy raised his hand in signal and the cabby
-swooped down upon him like one who has found his
-prey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Get in, mother—we'll drive back," he said
-quietly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His mother, startled beyond measure at the
-prospect of extravagance so unwonted, began to
-remonstrate, almost refusing. But a different note seemed
-to have come into Harvey's voice, his words touched
-with something that indicated a new era, something
-of the authority that great compassion gives, and
-in a moment she found herself yielding with a
-dependent confidence she had never felt before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where to?" asked the man.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Anywhere," said Harvey—"somewhere near the
-station; I'll tell you where."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It'll—it'll cost a dollar," the man ventured, his
-hand still on the door and his eyes making a swift
-inventory of the boy's rather unpromising apparel.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll pay you," the latter answered sternly. "Shut
-the door; close the window too," he ordered—"close
-both the windows. And don't drive fast."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The spendthrift impulse must have been heaven-born
-and that vagrant chariot been piloted from afar.
-For they two within felt something of sanctuary
-peace as the driver vanished to his place and they
-found themselves alone—alone with each other and
-the sorrow that was deep and thrilling as their love.
-They could hear and feel the busy tide of life about
-them; the pomp of wealth and the tumult of business
-frowned from towering mansions, or swept indifferent
-by, knowing nothing, caring less, about those
-nestling two who were all alone in the mighty city—but
-they had each other, and the haughty world was
-shut out from them, all its cruel grandeur, all its
-surging billows powerless to rob them of what their
-stricken hearts held dear. And, if the truth were
-told, many a stately house and many a flashing
-carriage that passed them by, held less of love's real
-wealth than did the mud-bespattered cab that creaked
-and rumbled on its way.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Several minutes elapsed before either spoke.
-Then the mother turned towards the silent lad, her
-face sweet in the wistful smile that stole across it.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you find what you went back for, dear?"
-she asked.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey cast one sharp agonized glance towards
-the gentle face—and it told him all. He knew then
-that the pain of either concealing or revealing was to
-be spared him; but his heart leaped in pity and in
-boundless love as he saw the light upon the worn
-face, the brave and tender signal that he knew the
-wounded spirit had furnished all for him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke no answer to her words; he knew
-that she expected none. But the answer came
-nevertheless, and in richer language than halting
-words could learn. For he rose half erect in the
-carriage, careless as to whether the world's disdainful
-eye might see, his arms stealing around the yielding
-and now trembling form with a strength and
-passion that were the gift of the first really anguished
-hour his life had ever known.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The woman felt its power, caught its message,
-even inwardly rejoiced in the great security;
-pavilion like to this she had never found before in all
-her storm-swept life.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Harvey," she murmured at last, "Harvey,
-my son, God's been good to me; I'm almost
-happy when—when I feel how much you are to me
-now—and Jessie too," she added quickly; "poor
-Jessie—it'll be hard for her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mutely, reverently, guided from on high, Harvey
-strove to speak the burden of his heart. But it
-ended only in tears and tender tokens of hand and
-lip, his sorrow outpouring the story of its pity and
-devotion as best it could.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll always take care of you, mother," he whispered;
-"always—just like you've taken care of us.
-And we'll wait till you get better, mother—we'll wait
-together."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His mother's fingers were straying about his hair.
-"I know it, darling," she said; "some ways I'm so
-poor, Harvey; but other ways I'm wonderfully rich—the
-highest ways. And now, Harvey," straightening
-up as she spoke, "there's something I want to
-attend to. You must tell the man to drive to a store
-where we get clothes—coats and things, you know.
-I want to get something."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" asked Harvey suspiciously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's for you. It's a winter coat—you know you
-haven't one, Harvey."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then followed a stout protest and then a vigorous
-debate. But the mother conquered. "You mustn't
-forget that I'm your mother, Harvey," she finally
-urged, and Harvey had no response for that. But
-after they had alighted and the purchase had been
-duly made he contrived to withdraw the genial
-salesman beyond reach of his mother's hearing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you got something the same price as this?"
-he asked hurriedly; "something for a lady—a cloak,
-or a dressing-gown—one that would fit, you know,"
-he said, glancing in the direction of his mother.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The clerk was responsive enough; in a moment the
-exchange was effected, and Harvey, his mother's arm
-linked with his, led the way out to the crowded street.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They made their way back to the station. As
-Harvey passed within its arching portals, he
-bethought himself sadly of the high hope, now almost
-dead and gone, that had upborne his heart when last
-he had passed beneath them. It seemed like months,
-rather than a few hours, so charged with suspense
-and feeling had those hours been.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The train was in readiness and they were soon
-settled for the homeward journey. But scarcely had
-they begun to move when the door before them
-opened and Cecil Craig made his appearance. He
-evidently knew that Harvey and his mother were
-aboard, for his eye roamed enquiringly over the
-passengers, resting as it fell on the two serious faces.
-Suddenly he seemed to note that Harvey had
-pre-empted the seat opposite to the one on which he and
-his mother had taken their places; a small valise and
-the parcel containing the surreptitious purchase were
-lying on it. Whereupon Cecil strode forward.
-"Take those things off," he hectored—"Want the
-whole train to yourself? Don't you know that's
-against the rules—I want to sit there."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey had not seen him approaching, for his eyes
-had been furtively studying his mother's face. He
-started, looking up at Cecil almost as though he were
-not there; then he quietly removed the encumbrances
-and even turned the seat for Cecil to take his
-place. He wondered dumbly to himself what might
-be the cause of this strange calmness, this absolute
-indifference; he did not know how a master-sorrow
-can make all lesser irritations like the dust.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep it," Cecil said insolently. "I'm going back
-to the Pullman—I wanted to see who'd walk the plank
-to-day," casting at Harvey a contemptuous sneer the
-latter did not even see. And no thought of Cecil, or
-his insult, or his phantom triumph, mingled with
-Harvey's grave reflections as they rolled swiftly
-homeward; he had other matters to consider, of more
-importance far.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-dews-of-sorrow"><span class="bold large">XIII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE DEWS OF SORROW</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The dusk was gathering about them as the
-returning travellers wended their way along
-the almost deserted street. The dim outline
-of the slumbering hills could be seen across the
-river—for Glenallen had grown in a circle upon
-surrounding heights—and as Harvey's eyes rested now
-and again upon them in the dying light of the summer
-day, he felt a secret sense of help and comfort,
-as if some one knew and cared for his clouded life.
-It seemed good to walk these streets again—so different
-from those of the city—with the familiar faces
-and the kindly voices; and often was he stopped and
-questioned, not without delicacy and chaste reserve,
-as to the outcome of their pilgrimage. Which gave
-his heart some balm, at least for the moment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look, mother," he cried suddenly, forgetting in
-his eagerness; "look—I can see our light," his face
-glowing as if the gleam were from palace windows.
-His mother raised her head quickly, as if she also
-saw. Perhaps it was even clearer to her, though she
-beheld it not. But together they quickened their
-pace, for they knew that earth's dearest shelter, how
-humble soever it might be, was just before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And as they came closer, Harvey could see, the
-white frock showing clear against the shadows, the
-outline of his sister's form. Poor child, the day had
-been long for her, waiting and wondering, the portent
-of the tidings that the night might bring mingling
-with all her childish thoughts. She was moving out
-from the door-step now, peering eagerly, starting
-forward or restraining herself again as doubt and
-certainty of the approaching pair impelled her.
-Suddenly she seemed to be quite sure, and with a little
-cry she bounded along the street, the eager footfalls
-pattering with the rapidity of love.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The mother knew that music well; her hand
-slipped out of Harvey's grasp, the hungry arms
-outstretched as she felt the ardent form approaching—and
-in a moment, tears and laughter blending, the girlish
-arms were tight about the mother's neck and warm
-kisses were healing the wound within. Presently
-Jessie withdrew her face from the heaving bosom,
-her eyes turned wistfully upon her mother's, plaintively
-searching for the cure her childlike hope had
-expected to find obvious at a glance. Disappointment
-and pain spoke from her eyes—she could see
-no difference—and she turned almost reproachfully
-upon her brother.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What did he—what——?" she began; but something
-on Harvey's face fell like a forbidding finger on
-her lips and her question died in silence.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I brought you something pretty from the city,
-Jessie," the mother broke in. She knew what had
-checked the words. "It's in the satchel, dear—and
-we'll open it as soon as we get home."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's in that other bundle?" asked the child.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's Harvey's winter coat," replied the mother.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm so glad," Jessie said simply. "And oh, I've
-got good news too," she went on enthusiastically.
-"I sold three pairs of those knitted stockings—all
-myself; and the man wouldn't take any change—I
-only asked him once. It was thirty-one cents—and
-the money's in the cup," she concluded eagerly as
-they passed within the little door, the bell above
-clanging their welcome home.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The valise was duly opened and Jessie's present
-produced amid great elation. Only a simple blue
-sash, selected by her brother with grave deliberation
-from the assortment on a bargain counter that lay
-like victims on an altar; but Jessie's joy was
-beautiful to behold, aided and abetted in it as she was by
-the other two, both mother and son trying on the
-flashing girdle, only to declare that it became Jessie
-best of all.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly the girl exclaimed: "Oh, Harvey, the
-chickens missed you so. I'm sure they did—Snappy
-wouldn't take any supper. They're in bed, of course,
-but I don't think they're sleeping—let's just go out
-and see them. Come."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey was willing enough, and the two sallied
-out together. But Jessie held her hand tight on the
-door, drowsy chucklings within all unheeded, as she
-turned her white face upon her brother.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," she said imperiously, the voice low and
-strained, "tell me—tell me quick, Harvey."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought you wanted me to see the chickens," he
-evaded.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I hate the chickens—and that was a lie about
-Snappy's supper. I just wanted to ask you about
-mother. Tell me quick, Harvey."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey stammered something; but he needed to
-say no more—the girl sank sobbing at his feet.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I knew it," she cried. "I just knew it—oh,
-mother, mother! And she'll soon never see again, and
-it'll always be night all the time—an' she'll never
-look at you or me any more, Harvey, she'll never
-look at you or me again. An' I got a little photograph
-took to-day, a little tintype—just five cents—an'
-I thought she'd be able to see it when she came
-back. Oh, Harvey, Harvey," and the unhappy child,
-long years a struggler with poverty and cloud, poured
-forth, almost as with a woman's voice, the first strain
-of anguish her little heart had ever known.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey sank beside her, his arm holding her close.
-The twilight was now deepening into dark, a fitting
-mantel for these two enshadowed hearts. The still
-form of the bending brother, already giving promise
-of manhood's strength, seemed, even in outward
-aspect, to speak of inner compassion as he bended
-over the slender and weaker frame of his little sister.
-Strong and fearless and true he was; and if any eye
-had been keen enough to penetrate that encircling
-gloom and catch a vision of all that lay behind the
-humble scene, the knightly soul of the struggling boy
-would have stood forth like a sheltering oak—so
-powerless, nevertheless, to shield the clinging life
-beside him, overswept as it was by the winds and
-waves of sorrow. But the purpose and the heart
-were there—the fatherless spreading gentle wings
-above the fatherless—and the scene was a holy one,
-typical of all humanity at its highest, and faintly
-faltering the story of the Cross. For if human
-tenderness and pity are not lights, broken though they be,
-of the great Heart Divine, then all life's noblest
-voices are but mockery and lies.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, Jessie, please don't," he murmured, his
-own tears flowing fast. "It'll only keep her from
-getting better—she'll see your eyes all red an'——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She won't—she can't," sobbed the girl; "you
-know she can't—she can't see, Harvey," a fresh tide
-outbreaking at the thought.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But she'll feel it, Jessie. Mothers can feel
-everything like that—'specially everybody's own mother,"
-he urged, vainly trying to control his own grief.
-"And anyhow, the doctor said she might get better
-some time—perhaps all of a sudden. And we've got
-to help her, Jessie; and we've got to make her happy
-too—and we can—mother said we could," he cried,
-his tone growing firmer as the great life-work loomed
-before him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Hope is the most contagious of all forms of health;
-and with wonderful gentleness and power the youthful
-comforter drew the sobbing heart beside him into
-the shelter of his own tender courage, the hiding-place
-of his own loving purpose. Soon Jessie was
-staring, wide-eyed, at her brother, as he unfolded the
-new duties they must perform together. That word
-itself was never used, but her heart answered, as all
-true hearts must ever answer, to the appeal of God.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll try, Harvey," she said at last. "I'll do the
-best I can to help mother to get well—an' I'll get up
-in the mornings an' make the porridge myself," she
-avowed, smiling, the first step showing clear.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Hand in hand they went back to the house,
-the light of eager purpose upon both their faces.
-As they entered, a familiar voice fell on Harvey's ear.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We was jest a-goin' by,"—it was David Borland's
-staccato—"an' I thought I'd drop in an' see if you
-was all safe home. Don't take off your things, Madeline;
-we're not a-visitin'," he said to the girl beside
-him. For she was bidding fair to settle for a
-protracted stay.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, we're safe home, thank you," answered
-Mrs. Simmons, "and it's lovely to get back. I'm a poor
-traveller."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tain't safe to travel much these days," rejoined
-Mr. Borland after he had greeted Harvey; whose
-face, as well as a fugitive word or two, hushed any
-queries that were on David's lips—"so many
-accidents, I always feel skeery on the trains—must be
-hard to run Divine predestination on schedule, since
-they got them heavy engines on the light rails. I
-often think the undertakers is part of the railroad
-trust," he concluded, smiling sententiously into all
-the faces at once.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Some further conversation ensued, prompted in a
-general way by the excursion to the city, and dealing
-finally with the question of eminent city doctors
-and their merits.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I only went onct to a big city man like that,"
-David said reminiscently, "and it was about my
-eyes, too. You see, I rammed my shaving-brush
-into one, one evenin' when I was shavin' in the dusk.
-Well, I was awful skeery about what he'd charge—didn't
-have much of the almighty needful in them
-days. An' I heard he charged the Governor-General's
-missus five thousand dollars, a week or two
-before, for takin' a speck o' dust out of her eye—castin'
-out the mote, as the Scriptur says; I'd leave a
-sand-pit stay there before I'd shell out like that. Well,
-anyhow, I was skeered, 'cause I knew me an' the
-nobility had the same kind of eyes. So I didn't dress
-very good—wore some old togs. An' after he got
-through—just about four minutes an' a half—I asked
-him what was the damage. Says he: 'What do you
-do, Mr. Borland?' 'I work in a foundry,' says I.
-'Oh, well,' says he, 'call it five dollars.' So I yanked
-out a roll o' bills about the size of a hind quarter o'
-beef, an' I burrows till I gets a five—then I gives it
-to him. 'How do you come to have a wad like that,
-Mr. Borland,' says he, 'if you work in a foundry?'
-'I own the foundry,' says I, restorin' the wad to
-where most Scotchmen carries their flask. 'Oh!'
-says he, lookin' hard at the little fiver. 'Oh, I'll give
-you another toadskin,' says I, 'jest to show there's
-no hard feelin'.' 'Keep it,' says he—an' he was
-laughin' like a guinea hen, 'keep it, an' buy a marble
-monument for yourself, and put at the bottom of it
-what a smart man you was,'" and David slapped his
-knee afresh in gleeful triumph. For the others, too,
-there was laughter and to spare; which very purpose
-David had designed his autobiography to accomplish.
-A moment later Madeline and her father were at
-the door, the little circle, laughing still, around him
-as they stepped without.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're a terrible one for shakin' hands, girl,"
-David said to his daughter as they stood a moment
-on the step. "That's a habit I never got much into
-me." For Madeline's farewell had had much of
-meaning in it, the sweet face suffused with sympathy
-as she shook hands with all—the mother first, then
-Jessie, then Harvey—and the low voice had dropped
-a word or two that told the depth and sincerity of
-her feeling. When she said good-bye to Harvey,
-the pressure of her hand, light and fluttering as it
-was, found a response so warm and clinging that a
-quick flush overflowed her face, before which the
-other's fell, so striking was its beauty, so full of deep
-significance the message of the strong and soulful
-eyes. Her father's child was she, and the fascination
-of sorrow had early touched her heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The door was almost closed when David turned to
-call back lustily:</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Harvey—Harvey, Mr. Nickle wants to see
-you; Geordie Nickle, you know; an' if you come
-round to my office to-morrow about half-past four,
-I think you'll find him there. He's got a great
-scheme on; he's the whitest man I ever run acrost, I
-think—for a Scotchman."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-weighing-of-the-anchor"><span class="bold large">XIV</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE WEIGHING OF THE ANCHOR</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Surely the years love best to ply their
-industry among the young. For two or three of
-them, each taking up the work where its
-predecessor laid it down, can transform a youth or
-maiden to an extent that is really wonderful.
-Perhaps this is because the young lend themselves so
-cheerfully to everything that makes for change, and
-resent all tarrying on life's alluring way. They love
-to make swift calls at life's chief ports, so few in
-number though they be; they are impatient to try the
-open sea beyond, unrecking that the last harbour and
-the long, long anchorage are all too near at hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The difference that these silent craftsmen can soon
-make upon a face might have been easily visible to
-any observant eye, had such an eye been cast one
-evening upon the still unbroken circle of the
-Simmons home. The mother had changed but little;
-nor had anything changed to her—unless it were
-that all upon which her eyes had closed shone brighter
-in the light that memory imparts. Still holding
-her secret hidden deep, her fondness for those left
-to her seemed but to deepen as the hope of her
-husband's return grew more and more faint within.
-If the hidden tragedy delved an ever deeper wound
-under cover of her silence, it had no outward token
-but an intenser love towards those from whom she
-had so long concealed it.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But Jessie and Harvey had turned the time to
-good account. For the former had almost left behind
-the stage of early childhood, merging now into the
-roundness and plumpness—and consciousness, too—that
-betoken a girl's approach to the sunlit hills of
-womanhood.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Yet Harvey had changed the most of all. The
-stalwart form had taken to itself the proportions of
-opening manhood—height, firmness, breadth of
-shoulders, length of limb, all made a strong and
-comely frame. The poise of the head indicated
-resolute activity, and the evening light that now played
-upon his face revealed a countenance in which
-sincerity, seriousness, hopefulness, might be traced by a
-practiced eye. Humour, too, was there—that twin
-sister unto seriousness—maintaining its own place in
-the large eyes that had room for other things beside;
-and the glance that was sometimes turned upon the
-autumn scene without, but oftener upon his mother
-and his sister, was eloquent of much that lay behind.
-The tuition of his soul had left its mark upon his
-face. Early begun and relentlessly continued, it had
-taught him much of life, of life's ways and life's
-severities—not a little, too, of the tactics she demands
-from all who would prevail in the stern battle for
-which he had been compelled so early to enlist. New
-duties, unusual responsibilities, severe mental exercise
-such as serious study gives, stern self-denial, constant
-thought of others, these had conspired to provide the
-manly seriousness upon the still almost boyish face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Autumn reigned without, as has been already said,
-and in robes of gold. Glowing and glorious, the oak
-and the elm and the maple wrapt in bridal garments,
-glad nature went onward to her death, mute
-preceptress to pagan Christians as to how they too
-should die.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A graver autumn reigned within. For the little
-circle was to be broken on the morrow, and the
-humble home was passing through one of earth's truest
-crises, giving up an inmate to the storm and peril of
-the great world without. The world itself may
-smile, stretching forth indifferent hands to receive the
-outgoing life; what cares the ocean for another
-swimmer as he joins the struggling throng?—but was
-the surrender ever made without tumult and secret
-tears?</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look, look," Jessie cried, as she turned her face
-a moment from the pane; "there goes Cecil and
-Madeline—I guess he's taking her for a farewell
-drive."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>In spite of himself, Harvey joined his sister at the
-window.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is Madeline with him?" he said, throwing quite
-an unusual note of carelessness into the words.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that's the second time they've driven past
-here—at least, I'm almost sure it was them before,"
-Jessie averred, straining her neck a little to follow the
-disappearing carriage.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder what he'll do with his horse when he's
-away," Harvey pursued, bent on an irrelevant theme,
-and thankful that the light was dim. The inward
-riot that disturbed him would have been much
-allayed could he have known that the parade before
-their door was of Madeline's own contriving;
-presuming, that is, that he understood the combination
-of the woman-heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Doesn't it seem strange, Harvey, that you and
-Cecil should start for the University the very same
-day?—he's going on the same train in the morning,
-isn't he?" enquired Jessie, her eyes abandoning
-their pursuit.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think so," her brother answered carelessly.
-"Jessie," he digressed decisively, "I want you to
-promise me something. I'm going to write you a
-letter every week, and I want you to take and read
-it—or nearly all of it; sometimes there'll be bits you
-can't—to Mr. Nickle. If it weren't for him—for him
-and Mr. Borland—I wouldn't be going to college at
-all, as you know."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That I will," the sister answered heartily; "I
-think he's just the dearest old man. And I can
-manage it easily enough—there's hardly a day but
-he comes into the store to buy something. He and
-Mr. Borland always seem to be wanting something,
-something that we've always got, too. They must
-eat an awful lot of sweet stuff between them. And
-every time Mr. Nickle comes in, he says: 'Weel,
-hoo's the scholarship laddie the day?'—he's awfully
-proud about you getting the scholarship, Harvey."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Her brother's face brightened. "Well there's one
-thing I'm mighty glad of," he said, "and that is that
-I won't be very much of a charge for my first year at
-any rate—that hundred and fifty will help to see me
-through."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But you mustn't stint yourself, Harvey," the
-mother broke in with tender tone. "You must get
-a nice comfortable place to board in, and have a good
-warm bed—and lots of good nourishing things to
-eat. I know I'll often be waking up in the night and
-wondering if you're cold. Do you know, dear," she
-went on, her voice trembling a little, "we've never
-been a night separated since you were born—it's
-going to be hard for a while, I'm afraid," she said a
-little brokenly as the youth nestled down beside her,
-his head resting on her lap as in the old childhood
-days.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It'll be harder for me, mother," he said; "but I
-think I'd be almost happy if you were well again. It
-nearly breaks my heart to think of leaving you here
-in—in the dark," he concluded, his arm stealing
-fondly about her neck.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The woman bended low to his caress. "Don't,
-Harvey—you mustn't. It's not the dark—it's never
-dark where Christ abides," she broke out with a
-fervour that almost startled him, for it was but rarely
-that she spoke like this. "I've got so much to
-thank God for, my son—it's always light where love
-makes it light. And I'm so proud and happy that
-you're going to get the chance you need, Harvey.
-Oh, but He's been good to my little ones," she
-cried, her voice thrilling with the note of real
-gratitude that is heard, strangely enough, only from those
-who sit among the shadows. The noblest notes of
-praise have come from lips of pain.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll write to me, won't you, mother?—you'll
-tell Jessie what to say, and it'll be almost like getting
-it from yourself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," she answered quickly, "and I'll always
-be able to sign my name. And if you're ever in
-trouble, Harvey—or if you're ever tempted—and
-that's sure to come in a great city like the one
-you're going to—remember your mother's praying
-for you. I'm laid aside, I know, my son, and there's
-not much now that I can do; but there's one thing
-left to me—I have the throne of grace; and if any
-one knows its comfort, surely it's your mother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother, won't you tell me something?" he interrupted
-decisively.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, my son?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't there something else, mother—some other
-sorrow, I mean—that I don't know about? I've had
-a feeling for a long time that there was—was
-something else."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The mother was long in answering. But she
-raised her hand and drew his arm tighter about her
-neck, the protecting love very sweet. "There's
-nothing but what I get grace to bear—don't ask
-me more, my child," and as she spoke the bending
-boy felt the hot tears begin to fall. They soon came
-thick and fast, for the mother's heart was melting
-within her, and as he felt the sacred drops upon his
-head the son's soul rose up in purpose and devotion,
-making its solemn vow that he would be worthy of
-a love so great.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The evening wore away, every hour precious to
-them all. Very simple and homely were the counsels
-that fell from the mother's lips; that he must be
-careful about making new acquaintances, especially such
-as would hail him on the street, and speak his name,
-and cite his friends in witness—they doubtless all
-knew about the scholarship money; that he must
-study with his light behind him—not in front—and
-never later than half-past ten; that a couple of
-pairs of stockings, at the very least, must always be
-on hand in case of wet feet and resultant colds;
-that if cold in bed, he must ask for extra covering—he
-simply must not be afraid to ask for what he
-wants; that he must be very careful on those crowded
-city streets, especially of the electric cars; that in
-case of illness he must telegraph immediately,
-regardless of expense; that he must not forsake the
-Bible-class on Sabbath afternoons, but find one there
-and enroll himself at once; that he must accept
-gladly if fine people asked him to their homes,
-caring nothing though other students may be better
-dressed than he—they didn't get the scholarship,
-anyhow.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And Harvey promised all. More than likely that
-he took the admonitions lightly; he was not so much
-concerned with them as with the conflicting emotions
-that possessed him, eager joy that the battle was
-about to begin in earnest and yearning sympathy
-for the devoted hearts he was to leave behind. If
-all to which he was going forth loomed before him
-as a battle, it was as a delicious battle, whose process
-should be perpetual pleasure, its issue decisive
-victory. No thought of its real peril, its subtle
-conflict, its despairing hours, marred the prospect
-of the beckoning years; he knew not how he would
-yet revise his estimates as to who are our real
-enemies, nor did he dream that his fiercest foes would
-be found within—and that the battle of inward living
-is, after all has been said and done, the battle of life
-itself.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And now, my children," the mother said at last
-when the evening was far spent, "we'd better go to
-our rest, for we'll need to be up early in the
-morning. But I want to have a little prayer with you
-before we part—we'll just kneel here;" and she sank
-beside her chair, an arm about either child. It was
-quite dark, for none seemed to wish a light—they
-knew it could add nothing to the mother's vision—and
-in simple, earnest words, sometimes choking
-with the emotion she could not control, she
-committed her treasures to her God. "Oh, keep his
-youthful feet, our Father," the trustful voice
-implored, "and never let them wander from the path;
-help him in his studies and strengthen him in his
-soul—and keep us here at home in Thy blessed care,
-and let us all meet again. For Jesus' sake."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The light—that light that they enjoy who need
-no candle's glow—was about them as they arose,
-the mother's hand in Jessie's as they turned away.
-Harvey sought the shelter of the room that was so
-soon to be his no more. He closed the door as he
-entered, falling on his knees beside the bed to echo
-his mother's prayer. Then he hurriedly undressed
-and was soon fast asleep.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was hours after, the silent night hurrying towards
-the dawn, when he suddenly awoke, somewhat
-startled. For he felt a hand upon his brow, and the
-clothes were tight about him. Looking up, he dimly
-discerned his mother's face; white-robed, she was
-bending over him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be frightened, Harvey; go to sleep, dear—it's
-only me. I wanted to tuck you in once more,
-like I used to do when you were little. Oh, Harvey,"
-and a half cry escaped her as she bent down and
-put her arms about him, "I don't know how to give
-you up—but go to sleep, dear, go to sleep."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But Harvey was now wide awake, clinging to his
-mother. "Don't go," he said, "stay with me a
-little."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was a long silence. At last Harvey spoke:</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you thinking about, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The woman drew her shawl tighter about her
-shoulders and settled herself on the bed. "I think
-I'll tell you, Harvey," she said in a whisper; "it
-seems easier to tell you in the dark—and when
-Jessie's asleep."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" he asked eagerly. "Is it anything
-that's hard to say?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, my son, it's hard to tell—but I think I
-ought to tell it. Are you wide awake, Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mother. What is it?" he asked again.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you remember, Harvey, the night you went
-to join the church?—and how I walked with you
-as far as the door?—and we went into the cemetery
-together? Don't you remember, Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mother, of course I do. But why?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you remember how, when we were standing
-at the baby's grave, you asked me why your father
-never joined the church, and I said he didn't think
-he was good enough—and you asked me why, and I
-said I'd tell you some time. Do you remember that,
-my son?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," Harvey answered slowly, his mind working fast.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm going to tell you now. Your father
-was so good to me, Harvey—at least, nearly always.
-But he used"—she buried her face in the pillow—"this
-is what I'm going to tell you, Harvey; he used—he
-used to drink sometimes."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The form beside her lay still as death. "Sometimes
-he used to—we were so happy, till that began.
-And oh, Harvey, nobody can ever know what a
-dreadful struggle it is, till they've seen it as I saw it.
-For he loved you, my son, he loved you and Jessie
-like his own soul—and it was the company he got
-into—and some discouragements—and things like that,
-that were to blame for it. But the struggle was
-terrible, Harvey—like fighting with one of those
-dreadful snakes that winds itself about you. And I could
-do so little to help him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She could feel his breath coming fast, his lips
-almost against her cheek. A little tremor preceded
-his question. "Was he—was father all right when
-he died?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was well he could not see the tell-tale lips, nor
-catch the quiver that wrung the suffering face. "Oh,
-Harvey," she began tremblingly, "I asked you never
-to speak of that—it hurts me so. And I wanted to
-tell you," she hurried evasively on, "that his own
-father had the same failing before him. And I'm so
-frightened, Harvey, so frightened—about you—you
-know it often descends from father to son. And
-when I think of you all alone in the big city—oh,
-Harvey, I want you to——" and the rest was
-smothered in sobs as the sorrow-riven bosom rose and
-fell, the tears streaming from the sightless eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Both of Harvey's arms were tight about his mother,
-his broken voice whispering his vow with passionate
-affection.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Never, mother, never; I promise," he murmured.
-"Oh, my mother, you've had so much of sorrow—if
-you want me, I won't go away at all. I'll stay and
-take care of you and Jessie, if you want me, mother,"
-the strong arms clinging tighter. But she hushed
-the suggestion with a word, gently withdrawing
-herself and kissing him good-night again.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Go to sleep, my son," she said gently; "you've
-got a long journey before you," and he knew the
-significance of the words; "God has given me far more
-of joy than sorrow," as she felt her way to the door
-and onwards to her room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Long he lay awake, engulfed in a very tumult of
-thoughts and memories; finally he fell into a
-restless slumber. The day was dimly breaking when
-he suddenly awoke, thinking he heard a noise. Stealing
-from his bed, he crept across the room, peering
-towards his mother's. He could see her in the
-uncertain light; she was bending over his trunk, the
-object of her solicitude for many a previous day, and
-her hands were evidently groping for something
-within. Soon they reappeared, and he could see a
-Bible in them, new and beautiful. She had a pen in
-one hand, and for a moment she felt about the
-adjoining table for the ink-well she knew was there.
-Finding it, the poor ill-guided pen sought the fly-leaf
-of the book she held; it took long, but it was love's
-labour and was done with care. She waited till the
-ink was dry, then closed the volume, kissed it with
-longing tenderness and replaced it in the trunk.
-Rising, she made her way to a chest of drawers, opened
-one or two before her hands fell on what she wanted,
-and then produced a little box carefully wrapped in
-oilcloth. Some little word she scrawled upon it, and
-the unpretentious parcel—only some simple luxury
-that a mother's love had provided against sterner
-days—was deposited at the very bottom of the trunk.
-She closed the lid and kneeled reverently beside the
-now waiting token of departure; Harvey crept back
-to his bed again, his sight well-nigh as dim as hers.
-When the little family gathered the next morning
-at the breakfast-table the mother's face bore a look
-of deep content, as if some burden had been taken
-from her mind. And the valiant display of cheerfulness
-on the part of all three was quite successful, each
-marvelling at the sprightliness of the other two.
-They were just in the middle of the meal when the
-tinkling bell called Jessie to the shop. A moment
-later she returned, bearing a resplendent cluster of
-roses. "They're for you, Harvey," she said, "and I
-think it's a great shame—boys never care anything
-for flowers. They ought to be for me." But she
-did not hand them to her brother, nor did he seem to
-expect them. For she walked straight to the mother's
-chair, holding them before her; and the patient face
-sank among them, drinking deep of their rich fragrance.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who sent them, Jessie?" her brother asked with
-vigorous brevity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know—the boy wouldn't tell. He said
-'a party' gave him ten cents to hand them in—and
-the party didn't want the name given. I hate that
-'party' business; you can't tell whether it's a man
-or a woman. I guess it wasn't a man, though—look
-at the ribbon."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>One would have said that Harvey thought so too,
-judging by the light on his face. "I'll take the
-ribbon," he said, "and just one rose—you and
-mother can have the rest."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you're sure it wasn't a man sent them?"
-returned the knowing Jessie.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I'm not—what makes you say that?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well—what are you taking the ribbon for, if
-you're not?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Because—because, well, because it's useful, for
-one thing; I can tie my lunch up in it, or a book or
-two—anything like that," Harvey replied, smiling at
-his adroit defense. "Who's this—why, if it's not
-Mr. Nickle and Mr. Borland!" rising as he spoke to
-greet the most welcome guests.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye'll hae to pardon us, Mrs. Simmons," Geordie's
-cheery voice was the first to say; "David here brocht
-me richt through the shop, richt ben the hoose, wi'oot
-rappin'. We wantit to say good-bye till the
-laddie—only he's mair a man nor a laddie noo."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It was Mr. Nickle that dragged me in by the
-scuff o' the neck," interjected Mr. Borland, nodding
-to all the company at once. "When he smelt the
-porridge, you couldn't see him for dust.
-Hello! where'd you get the roses?—look awful like the
-vintage out at our place. Don't rise, Mrs. Simmons;
-we just dropped in to tell Harvey tra-la-la."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad to find ye're at the porridge, laddie,"
-Geordie said genially, as he took the chair Jessie had
-handed him. "The porridge laddies aye leads their
-class at the college, they tell me—dinna let them
-gie ye ony o' yon ither trash they're fixin' up these
-days to dae instead o' porridge; there's naethin' like
-the guid auld oatmeal."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You Scotch folks give me a pain," broke in
-David; "how any one can eat the stuff, I can't make
-out. The fact is, I don't believe Scotchmen like it
-themselves—only it's cheap, an' it fills up the hired
-men so they can't eat anythin' else. Unless it's
-because their ancestors ate it," he continued
-thoughtfully. "I'll bet my boots there's Scotchmen in
-Glenallen that's eatin' porridge to-day jest because
-their grandfathers ate it; an' they'll put it down if it
-kills 'em—an' their kids'll eat it too or else they'll
-know the reason why. It'd be just the same if it was
-bran—they'd have to walk the plank. But there
-ain't no horse blood in me, thank goodness," he
-concluded fervently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jealousy's an awfu' sair disease," retorted Geordie,
-smiling pitifully at the alien; "but we canna a' be
-Scotch."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm so glad you came in," Harvey began, turning
-to his visitors as the laughter subsided; "we
-were just speaking of your kindness last night—and
-I'm glad to have a chance to thank you again just
-before I go away."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Stap it," Geordie interrupted sternly. "That's
-plenty o' that kind o' thing—I'll gang oot if there's
-ony mair, mind ye," he declared vehemently, for there
-are few forms of pain more intolerable to natures
-such as his.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll have to be careful, Harvey," cautioned
-Mr. Borland; "he's one o' the kind that don't want
-their left hand to know the stunt their right hand's
-doin'. Very few Scotchmen likes the left hand to
-get next to what the right one's at—it wouldn't
-know much, poor thing, in the most o' cases," he
-added pitifully—"but our friend here's a rare kind
-of a Scotchman. By George, them's terrible fine
-roses," he digressed, taking a whiff of equine proportions.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I canna gang till the station wi' ye, Harvey—David's
-gaein'," said Geordie Nickle, taking his staff
-and rising to his feet, "but guid-bye, my laddie, an'
-the blessin' o' yir mither's God be wi' ye," and the
-kindly hand was unconsciously laid on Harvey's
-head. "We're expectin' graun' things o' ye at the
-college. I mind fine the mornin' I left my faither's
-hoose in Hawick; he aye lifted the tune himsel' at
-family worship—an' that mornin', I mind the way
-his voice was quaverin'. These was the words:</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>'Oh, spread Thy coverin' wings around</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>Till all our wanderin's cease,'</span></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>an' I dinna ken onythin' better for yirsel' the day.
-Guid-bye, my laddie—an' 'a stoot heart tae a steep
-brae', ye ken."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As Harvey returned from seeing the old man to
-the door, Jessie beckoned him aside into his room,
-not yet set to rights after his fitful slumbers of the
-night before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Harvey," she began in very serious tones, "I
-only want to say a word; it's to give a promise—and
-to get one. And I want you to promise me
-faithfully, Harvey."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, sister?" he asked, his gaze resting
-fondly on the girlish face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, it's just this. You see this room?" Harvey
-nodded. "And this bed?—you know I'm going to
-have your room after you're gone. Well, it's about
-mother—I'm going to pray for her here every night;
-right here," touching the side of the bed as she spoke.
-"Dr. Fletcher said it would be sure to help—I mean
-for her sight to come back again; I asked him once
-at Sunday-school."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The doctor in the city told me that, too," broke
-in her brother.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dr. Fletcher knows better'n him," the other
-declared firmly—"he said God made lots o' people see
-because other people prayed. An' I want you to
-always ask the same thing—at the same time,
-Harvey, at the very same time; an' when I'm asking
-here, I'll know you're doing the very same wherever
-you are. You'll promise me, won't you, Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's heart was full; and the unsteadiness that
-marked his words was not from any lack of sympathy
-and purpose. "What time, Jessie?" he asked in a
-moment. "Would eight o'clock be a good time?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think so," the girl said after pondering a
-moment. "You see, I'll often be in bed at eight—I'm
-going to work very hard, you know. I think
-half-past seven would be better."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thus was the solemn tryst arranged, and Harvey
-bade his sister good-bye before he passed without
-for the last farewell to his mother.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>No tears, no outward sign, marked the emotion of
-the soulful moment, and soon Harvey and Mr. Borland
-had started for the station. Once, and only once,
-did the youth look behind; and he saw his mother's
-tender face, unseeing, but still turned in wistful
-yearning towards her departing son. Jessie was clinging
-to her skirts, her face hidden—but the mother's
-was bright in its strength and hopefulness, and the
-image sank into his heart, never to be effaced.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was evident, from the long silence he preserved,
-that David was reflecting upon things in general.
-Harvey was coming to understand him pretty well,
-and knew that the product would be forthcoming
-shortly. Nor was he disappointed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They're great on givin' advice, ain't they?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?" enquired Harvey, smiling in advance.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Them Scotch folks—they'd like awful well to be
-omnipotent, wouldn't they? It's pretty nigh the
-only thing they think they lack. It's great fun to
-hear a Scotchman layin' down the law; they don't
-see no use in havin' ten commandments unless they're
-kept—by other people."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're not referring to Mr. Nickle, are you?"
-ventured Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no! bless my soul. Geordie's all wool and
-sixteen ounces to the pound," responded Mr. Borland,
-prodigal of his metaphors. "That's what set me
-thinkin' of Scotchmen in general, 'cause they're so
-different from Geordie. That was an elegant
-programme he fired at you there; what's this it was,
-again?—oh, yes, 'when it's stiff climbin', keep your
-powder dry'—somethin' like that, wasn't it?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He gave it the Scotch," answered Harvey, "'a
-stoot heart tae a steep brae,' I think it was."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what I said," affirmed David, "an' it's a
-bully motto. It's mine," he avowed, turning and
-looking gravely at Harvey. "I heard a fellow
-advertisin' a nigger show onct; he was on top of the
-tavern sheds, with a megaphone. 'If you can't
-laugh, don't come,' he was bellerin'—an' I thought it
-was elegant advice. Kind o' stuck to me all these
-years. You take it yourself, boy, an' act on it—you'll
-have lots of hard ploughin' afore you're through."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It suits me all right," Harvey responded cheerfully;
-"they say laughter's good medicine."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The very best—every one should have a hogshead
-a day; it washes out your insides, you see. If a man
-can't laugh loud, he ain't a good man, I say. I was
-talkin' about that to Robert McCaig the other
-day—you know him, he's the elder—terrible nice man he
-was, too, till he got religion—an' then he took an
-awful chill. By and by he got to be an elder—an'
-then he froze right to the bottom. Well, he's agin
-laughin'—says it's frivolous, you see. I told him the
-solemnest people was the frivolousest—used the rich
-fool for an illustration; he was terrible solemn, but
-he was a drivellin' </span><em class="italics">ejut</em><span> inside, to my way o' thinkin'.
-Robert up an' told me we don't read of the Apostle
-Paul ever laughin'—thought he had me. What do
-you think I gave him back?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Couldn't imagine," said Harvey, quite truthfully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"'That don't prove nothin',' says I; 'we don't
-ever read of him takin' a bath, or gettin' his hair cut,'
-says I, 'but it was him that said godliness was next
-to cleanliness.' An' Robert got mad about it—that's
-how I knew I had him beat. He said I was irreverent—but
-that ain't no argyment, is it?" appealed
-David seriously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His companion's opinion, doubtless favourable, was
-hindered of expression by the snort of the approaching
-locomotive, signal for a sprint that was rather
-vigorous for further exchange of views. There was
-barely time for the purchase of a ticket and the
-checking of the trunk, the conductor already standing with
-one eye on the baggage truck and the other on the
-grimy figure that protruded from the engine window.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I ain't Scotch," David said hurriedly, as he and
-Harvey stood together at the rear platform of the
-train, "but I had a father, for all that, just the same
-as all them Sandys seem to have. An' when I was
-pikin' out to find the trail—it's a long time ago—the
-old man stood just like I'm standin' here with you,
-an' he says to me: 'David,' he says, 'trust in God an'
-do your duty.' An' I believe them's the best runnin'
-orders on the road. The old Sandys can't beat that
-much, can they?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey had no chance to make reply; for almost
-in the same breath David went on, thrusting an
-envelope into his hand as he spoke: "Here's a letter of
-interduction I want you to present to a fellow in the
-city—he's the teller in the Merchants' Bank, an' you
-might find him helpful," David concluded with a
-hemispheric grin; "hope you'll endorse my
-suggestion," he added, the grin becoming spherical.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey tried to protest as best he could, protest
-and gratitude mingling; but the train was already
-moving out and his communications were chiefly in
-tableau.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right," David roared above the din;
-"good-bye, my boy. Remember Geordie Nickle's
-motto—an' don't blow out the gas."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-parental-parley"><span class="bold large">XV</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">A PARENTAL PARLEY</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Better eat all you can, Madeline; you
-can't never tell when you're goin' to have
-your last square meal these days," and
-David deposited another substantial helping on his
-daughter's plate.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, father, what's the matter? What's making
-you so despondent all of a sudden?" Madeline asked
-in semi-seriousness, following her father's advice the
-while.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't understand your father, Madeline—he's
-always joking, you know," interjected Mrs. Borland.
-"You shouldn't make light of such solemn
-matters, David," she went on, turning to her
-husband, "hunger's nothing to jest about."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly what I was sayin'," responded David,
-"an' if things goes on like they promise now, you an'
-Madeline'll have to take in washin' to support this
-family—that's the gospel truth."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't believe father's in fun," Madeline
-persisted. "Anything go wrong to-day with business
-matters?" she enquired, looking across the table at
-her father.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>That David was in earnest was obvious enough.
-"Everything wrong, appearin'ly," he said, rolling up
-his napkin and returning it to its ring. "The men's
-goin' to strike—seems to me there's a strike every
-other alternate day," he went on. "Doin' business
-nowadays is like a bird tryin' to hatch out eggs when
-they're cuttin' down the tree—some o' them darned
-firebrands from St. Louis have been stirrin' up the
-men; a lot o' lazy man-eaters," he concluded vehemently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do the men want, David?" his wife asked
-innocently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Borland looked at her incredulously. "What
-do they want—the same old thing they've been
-wantin' ever since Adam went into the fruit
-business—less work an' more pay. An' they've appointed a
-couple o' fellows—a delegation they call it—to wait
-on the manufacturers privately an' present their
-claims. There's two different fellows to interview
-each man—an' they're comin' here to-night. They
-didn't tell me they was comin'—I jest heard it
-casual."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"To-night!" echoed Mrs. Borland, "where'll they
-sit?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Chairs, I reckon," replied her spouse.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're so facetious, David. Where'll they sit
-when they're talking to you?—you know what I
-mean."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I reckon we'll have it out in the den—there'll
-be lots o' growlin', anyhow. I'm not worryin'
-much about where they sit; it's the stand they
-take that troubles me the most," and David indulged
-a well-earned smile.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're very gay about it, father," Madeline
-chimed in, "making merry with the English language."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's no use o' bein' gay when everything all
-right, daughter; that's like turnin' on the light when
-it's twelve o'clock noon. But when things is breakin'
-up on you, then's your time to cut up dog a little.
-I'm a terrible believer in sunshine, Madeline—the
-home-made kind, in particular. I always tell the
-croakers that every man should have a sunshine plant
-inside of him—when the outside kind gives out, why,
-let him start his little mill inside, an' then he's
-independent as a pig on ice. An' really, it's kind o'
-natural—there's nothin' so refreshin' as difficulties, in a
-certain sense. Leastways, that's the kind of an
-animal I am—when I'm on the turf, give me a hurdle
-now an' again to make it interestin'."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is this a pretty stiff business hurdle you've got to
-get over now?" asked Madeline, as she smiled
-admiringly at the home-bred philosophy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, it's stiff enough. Of course, I've done pretty
-good in the foundry—ain't in it for my health. But
-it's terrible uncertain; you know the Scriptur' says
-the first shall be last—an' it's often that way in
-business. We're really not makin' hardly any money
-these days; of course, if you tell the men that,
-they—they close one eye," said David, illustrating the
-process as he spoke. "Where are you off to, Madeline?"
-he asked abruptly, for his daughter had passed
-into the hall and was putting on her cloak.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going for my lesson—I'm taking
-wood-carving, you know. Pretty soon I'll be able to do it
-myself; and then I'm going to make lots of pretty things
-and sell them. My class and I are going to support
-four India famine children," she said proudly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Bully for you! You'll do the carvin', an' they'll
-do the eatin'—I suppose that's the idea."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Madeline's merry laughter was still pealing as she
-closed the door behind her. Mrs. Borland turned a
-rather fretful face to her husband.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's taken a class in Sunday-school," she said,
-lifting her eyebrows to convey some idea of her
-opinion on the subject. "I did my best to dissuade
-her, but it was no use."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What in thunder did you want to prevent her
-for?" asked David.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, well, you understand. They're a very ordinary
-lot, I'm afraid—just the kind of children I've
-always tried to keep her away from. I never heard
-one of their names before."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think she's a reg'lar brick to tackle them,"
-returned her husband. "It does me good to see Madeline
-takin' that turn—nearly all the girls her age is
-jest about as much use as a sofa-tidy, with their teas
-an' five-o'clocks an' at-homes, an' all them other
-diseases," David continued scornfully. "It's all right to
-have girls learned——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Taught, David," corrected his wife.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's the same thing," retorted Mr. Borland. "I'm
-too old for you to learn me them new words,
-mother—it's all right, as I was sayin', to get them
-learned an' taught how to work in china, an' ivory,
-an' wood an' hay an' stubble, as the good book says,
-but it's far better to see them workin' a little in
-human bein's. It must be terrible interestin' to try
-your hand on an immortal soul—them kind o' productions
-lasts a while. So don't go an' cool her off,
-mother—you let her stick to them kids without
-names if she wants to."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But she tells me, David, she tells me some of
-them come to Sunday-school without washing their
-hands or faces."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell her to wear buckskin mits," said Mr. Borland
-gravely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's all very well to laugh, David—but they seem
-to have all sorts of things wrong with them.
-Madeline told me one day how she couldn't get the
-attention of the class because one of them kept winding
-and unwinding a rag on his sore finger for all
-the class to see it; he said a rat bit it in the
-night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Rough on rats'd soon fix them," said David
-reflectively; "I mind out in the barn one time——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But I'm serious, David," remonstrated Mrs. Borland;
-"and there's something else I hardly like to
-tell you. But only last Sunday Madeline was telling
-me—she laughed about it, but I didn't—how she
-asked one of the boys why he wasn't there the
-Sunday before, and he said: 'Please, ma'am, I had the
-shingles.'"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Shingles ain't catchin'," declared David, as he
-gasped for breath. "Ha, ha, ha!" he roared, "that's
-the richest I've heard since the nigger show. Ha,
-ha! that's a good one—that's the kind of a class I'd like
-to have. None o' your silk-sewed kids for me, with
-their white chiffon an' pink bows! It seems a sin
-for them teachers to have so much fun on Sundays,
-don't it?" and David extricated his shank from
-beneath the table, venting his mirth upon it with many
-a resounding slap.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Borland sighed discouragedly. "Well," she
-said at length, "I suppose there are greater troubles in
-life than that. In fact, I was just thinking of one of
-them when you were speaking about where you'd
-entertain the men when they come to-night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afeard what I'll say won't entertain them a
-terrible lot," said David, passing his cup for further
-stimulus as he thought of the ordeal.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, about where you'll talk to them, then,"
-amended Mrs. Borland. "My trouble's something
-the same. Only it's about the servants; at least it's
-about Letitia—she's the new one. It seems she
-belongs to a kind of an Adventist church, and she told
-me this morning that the Rev. Mr. Gurkle, the
-minister, is coming up to call on her some afternoon this
-week. And she asked where would she receive him!
-Receive him, mind you, David—she's going to
-</span><em class="italics">receive</em><span>! And she asked me where—asked me where
-she'd receive him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, that was natural enough. What did you
-tell her?" David asked, marvelling at the agitation
-of which the feminine mind is capable.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I told her where else would she receive
-him except in the kitchen—you don't suppose my
-maids are going to entertain their company in the
-parlour, do you, David?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Borland turned his face reflectively towards
-the wall, gazing at the lurid painting of a three-year-old
-who had been the pride of last year's fair.
-Finally he spoke: "Yes, Martha, I reckon she will. I
-ain't much of an interfere!—but there ain't agoin' to
-to be no minister of the Gospel set down in the
-kitchen in this house. Black clothes is too easy
-stained. Besides, it ain't the way I was raised."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But, David, surely you don't——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I do—that's jest exactly what I do. I know
-this Gurkle man—dropped into his church one night
-when some revival meetin's was goin' on. He's a
-little sawed-off fellow, with a wig—an' his cuffs has
-teeth like a bucksaw—an' he wears a white tie that
-looks like a horse's hames. An' he has an Adam's
-apple like a door-knocker; it kept goin' an' comin'
-that night, for there was a terrible lot of feelin' in the
-meetin'. An' Mr. Gurkle was a cryin' part of the
-time, an' he's that cross-eyed that the tears run over
-the bridge of his nose, both different ways. But I
-believe he's a good little man—an there ain't goin' to
-be no minister asquintin' round the kitchen in this
-house. He's goin' to the parlour, mother. The
-kitchen's all right for courtin'—come in there myself
-the other night when Mary had her steady company;
-there was three chairs—an' two of 'em was empty.
-That's all right for courtin'—it don't need no
-conveniences, nor no light, nor nothin'. Two young
-folks an' a little human natur's all you need for that.
-But prayin' an' sayin' catechism's hard enough at the
-best; so I reckon they'll have to do it in the parlour,
-mother," and Mr. Borland rose from his chair and
-moved slowly towards the window, patting his wife
-playfully on the shoulder as he passed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"By George, here they are," he suddenly
-exclaimed; "I believe that's them comin' now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?" asked his consort, not with much zest of
-tone. She was still ruminating on her maid's
-religious advantages.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's the delegation—it's them two fellows that's
-goin' to present the claims of the union. They're
-turnin' in at the carriage gate, sure's you're livin'."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going up-stairs," announced Mrs. Borland.
-"I've got to fill out some invitations for an at-home
-next week—you don't mind my leaving, David?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no, mother, certainly not. Far better for
-you not to be around. You see, certain kinds o'
-labour agitators is always complainin' that the
-manufacturers jest lives among beautiful things; an' you're
-the principal one in this house, mother; so I reckon
-you better slope," and David's hand was very gentle
-as it went out to touch the frosting locks. Mrs. Borland
-smiled indifferently at the compliment, secretly
-hugging it the while. Every true woman does likewise;
-the proffered pearl is carelessly glanced at and
-permitted to fall to the ground—then she swiftly
-covers it with one nimble foot, and solitary hours yet
-to come are enriched by communion with its radiance.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="david-the-diplomat"><span class="bold large">XVI</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">DAVID THE DIPLOMAT</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>His wife was hardly half-way up the stairs
-before David was in the height of perfervid
-activity. "I'll have an at-home myself,"
-he muttered under his breath; "I'll have a male
-at-home," as he rang the bell.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Mr. Borland," said the maid, parishioner to
-the Rev. Mr. Gurkle, as she appeared in answer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Take all them dishes away," he instructed breathlessly;
-"all the eatin' stuff, I mean," waving his hand
-over the suggestive ruins. "Is there any salt
-herrin's in the house?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, there's always herrin's on Friday; we
-keep 'em for Thomas—Thomas is a Roman," she
-said solemnly, an expression on her face that showed
-she was thinking of the judgment day.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David grinned. "I'll bet the Pope couldn't tell
-one from a mutton chop to save his life," he said;
-"but anyhow, put three herrin's on the table—an' a
-handful o' soda crackers—an' some prunes," he
-directed quickly, "an' make some green tea—make it
-strong enough to float a man-o'-war. By George,
-there's the bell—when everything fixed, you come in
-to the sittin'-room an' tell me supper's ready—supper,
-mind, Letitia."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then he hurried through the hall to the door,
-flinging it wide open.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, if this ain't you, Mr. Hunter," he cried
-delightedly, "an' I'm blamed if this ain't Mr. Glady,"
-giving a hand to each. "Come away in. Come
-on in to the sittin'-room—parlours always makes me
-think it's Sunday."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The men followed in a kind of dream. Mr. Hunter's
-embarrassment took a delirious form, the poor
-man spending several minutes in a vain attempt to
-hang his hat on the antlers of a monster head about
-three feet beyond his utmost reach. Finally it fell
-into a bowl of goldfish that stood beneath the
-antlers; great was the agitation among the finny
-inmates, but it was nothing as compared to Mr. Hunter's.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right," David sang out cheerily;
-"reckon they thought it was an eclipse o' the sun,"
-he suggested. "Fling your lid on the floor—I hate
-style when you have visitors," whereupon Mr. Hunter,
-fearful of further accident, bended almost to his
-knees upon the floor and deposited the dripping
-article carefully beneath the sofa. Mr. Glady, more
-self-possessed, resorted to his pocket-handkerchief,
-his hat still safe upon his head. Hiding his face in
-the copious calico, he blew a blast so loud and clear,
-that the little fishes, mistaking it for Gabriel's trump,
-rose with cue accord to the surface—and David's
-favourite collie answered loudly from the kitchen.
-Compelled by a sense of propriety to reappear from
-the bandana, Mr. Glady began hurriedly to sit
-down and was about to sink upon the glass top of a
-case of many-coloured eggs, Madeline's especial
-pride, when David flew between.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't," he cried appealingly, "them's fowl's
-eggs—an' anyhow, this ain't the clockin' season,"
-whereupon Mr. Glady leaped so far forward again
-that he collided with a small replica of the Venus de
-Milo on a mahogany stand, the goddess and the
-mahogany both oscillating a little with the impact.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Glady stared at the delicate creation, then cast
-quick glances about the floor. "Did I break off
-those arms?" he asked excitedly, pale as death.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh bless you, no—she was winged when she was
-born," said David, trying to breathe naturally, and
-imploring the men to be seated, whereat they slowly
-descended into chairs, as storm-bruised vessels creep
-into their berths.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>When both were safely lodged a deep silence fell.
-David looked expectantly from one to the other and
-each of the visitors looked appealingly towards his
-mate. Finally Mr. Glady brought his lips apart with
-a smack: "We come—we come to see you, Mr. Borland,
-because you're an employer of labour and——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"By George, I'm glad to hear that," David chimed
-in gleefully; "that's elegant—there'd be less jawin'
-between labour an' capital if there was more visitin'
-back an' furrit like this. I can't tell you how tickled
-I am to see you both. I don't have many visitors,"
-he went on rather mournfully, "that is, in a social
-way. A good many drops out to see me with
-subscription lists—but they never bring their knittin',"
-David added with a melancholy smile. "Most o' my
-evenin's is very lonely. I've seen me wearyin' so
-bad that I asked the missus to play on the pianner—an'
-one night I shaved three times, to pass the time."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Please, Mr. Borland, supper's on the table," said
-a small voice at the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David leaped to his feet. "Come on, Mr. Hunter—come
-away, Mr. Glady, an' we'll get outside o'
-somethin'," taking an arm of each and turning
-towards the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The men faintly protested, pleading a similar previous
-operation; but David overbore them with sweeping
-cordiality. "Let's go through the motions anyhow,"
-he said. "I'm an awful delicate eater myself; the
-bite I eat, you could put in—in a hogshead," turning
-an amiable grin on his guests. "Here, you sit there,
-Mr. Hunter—an' I guess that's your stall, Mr. Glady;
-I'm sorry my missus can't come—she's workin'. An'
-my daughter's away somewhere workin' at wood—turnin'
-an honest penny. Will you ask a blessin',
-Mr. Hunter?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Hunter stared pitifully at his host. "Tom
-there'll ask it," he said, his lips very dry; "he used to
-go to singin'-school in the church."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Glady's head was bowed waiting. "Mr. Hunter'll
-do it himself," he said, without moving a muscle;
-"his wife's mother's a class-leader in the Methodists."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Whereupon the piously connected man, escape
-impossible now, began to emit a low subterranean
-rumble, like the initial utterances of a bottle full of
-water when it is turned upside down. But it was
-music to the ear of Mr. Glady, listening in rigid
-reverence.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What church do you go to, Mr. Glady?" David
-asked as he poured out a cup of tea, its vigour
-obvious. "Both sugar and cream, eh—Letitia, have
-we any sugar round the house?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's a barrel an' a half," the servant responded
-promptly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, I see—fetch the half; we live awful
-plain, Mr. Glady. Don't go to no church, did you
-say? Terrible mistake—why don't you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," his guest responded slowly, "I look at
-it this way: if a fellow works all week—like us toilers
-does—he wants to rest on Sunday. That's our rest day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Terrible mistake," repeated David; "two
-spoonfuls?—it's the workin' men that needs church the
-most. I was readin' in a book the other day—it was
-either the 'Home Physician' or the dictionary, I
-forget which—how the Almighty trains the larks in
-England to scoot up in the air an' sing right over
-the heads o' the toilers, as you call 'em—the fellows
-workin' in the fields. You see, the Almighty knows
-they're the kind o' people needs it most—an' they
-hear more of it than lords an' ladies does. An' it's
-them kind o' folks everywhere that needs entertainment
-the most; an' I don't think there's anythin'
-entertains you like a church, the way it gets at the
-muscles you don't use every day. If you go to sleep,
-that rests you; an' if you keep awake, it ventilates
-you—so you gain either way. Oh, yes, every one
-should go to some church," he concluded seriously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right for rich manufacturers," broke
-in Mr. Hunter; "it's easy to enjoy a sermon when
-you're thinkin' of the five-course dinner you'll get
-when it's over. But when you've nothin' afore your
-eyes only a dish of liver—an' mebbe scorched—a
-sermon don't go quite so good."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's jest where I'm glad to have a chance to
-learn you somethin'," David returned with quite
-unwonted eagerness. It was evident he had struck a
-vein. "There ain't near so much difference as you
-fellows think. Do have some more prunes,
-Mr. Glady—they don't take up no room at all. As far
-as eatin' is concerned, anyway, there's terrible little
-difference. It's a caution how the Almighty's evened
-things up after all—that's a favourite idea o' mine,"
-he went on quite earnestly, "the way He gives a
-square deal all round. In the long run, that is; you
-jest watch an' see if it ain't so. I ain't terrible
-religious, an' I ain't related to no class-leaders, but there's
-a hymn I'm mighty fond of—I'd give it out twicet a
-Sunday if I was a preacher—it has a line about 'My
-web o' time He wove'; an' I believe," David went
-on, his face quite aglow, "it's the grandest truth
-there is. An' I believe He puts in the dark bits
-where everybody thinks it's all shinin', an' the shinin'
-bits where everybody thinks it's all dark—an' that's
-the way it goes, you see."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all very fine," rejoined Mr. Glady, a little
-timid about what he wished to say, yet resolved to
-get it out; "that's all very fine in theory—but a
-fellow only needs to look around to see it makes quite
-a bit o' difference just the same," he affirmed, casting
-an appraising glance around the richly furnished
-room. "Money makes the mare go, all right."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mebbe it does," said David, a far-off look in his
-eyes. "I wisht you'd both have some more crackers
-an' prunes; mebbe it does, but it don't make her go
-very far in—in where your feelin's is, I mean. There's
-far more important things than for the mare to get a
-gait on. Look at that Standard-oil fellow, out there
-in Cleveland, that's got more millions than he has
-hairs. Well, money made the mare go—but if it'd
-make the hair stay, I reckon he'd like it better.
-They say there ain't a hair between his head an'
-heaven. He could drop a million apiece on his
-friends, an' then have millions left; but they say he's
-clean forgot how to chaw—if he takes anythin'
-stronger'n Nestle's food it acts on him like dynamite,
-an' then he boosts up the price o' oil—he does it
-kind of unconscious like—when he's writhin'. I
-wouldn't board with him for a month if he gave me
-the run of his vault. But there's the fellow that
-drives his horses; he sets down to his breakfast at
-six o'clock—with his hair every way for Sunday—an'
-he eats with his knife an' drinks out of his saucer.
-An' when all his children thinks he's done, he says:
-'Pass me them cucumber pickles—an' another hunk
-o' lemon pie,'—so you see things is divided up pretty
-even after all. I believe luck comes to lots o' men,
-of course—but </span><em class="italics">one</em><span> of its hands is most gen'rally
-always as empty as a last year's nest—you can't have
-everything," concluded David, looking first at the
-men's plates and then down at the crackers and prunes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But one handful's a heap," suggested Mr. Glady,
-lifting the keel of a ruined herring to his lips.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tain't as much as you think for," retorted the
-host. "It don't touch the sore spot at all. If a
-fellow's got a good deal of th' almighty needful, as they
-call it, it may make his surroundin's a little more—a
-little more ornamentorious," he declared, wrestling
-with the word. "But there ain't nothin' more to it
-than that. Take me, if you like; I've got more than
-lots o' fellows—or used to have, anyway. But the
-difference is mostly ornament; a few more things
-like that there statute—or is it a statue?—I can't
-never tell them two apart; that there statute of the
-hamstrung lady you run up agin in the sittin'-room.
-But I never eat only one herrin' at a time, an' I jest
-sleep on one pillow at a time—an' if I have the colic
-I jest cuss an' howl the same as some weary Willie
-that a woman gives one of her own pies to, an' he
-eats all the undercrust. I'm afeard you don't like
-our humble fare," he digressed in a rather plaintive
-voice; "won't you have some more crackers an'
-prunes between you—they'll never get past the
-kitchen, anyhow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The horny-handed guests, declining the oft-pressed
-hospitality, began about this time to look a little
-uneasily at each other; visions of their original errand
-were troubling them some. Finally Mr. Hunter
-nodded very decidedly to his colleague, whereat
-Mr. Glady again produced his trusty handkerchief, and,
-after he had tooted his disquietude into its
-sympathetic bosom, cleared his throat with a sound that
-suggested the dredging of a harbour, and began:</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Me and Mr. Hunter's got a commission, Mr. Borland.
-We're appointed to—to confer with you
-about, about the interests of the men, so to speak;
-about a raise—that is, about a more fairer distribution
-of the product of our united industry, as it were," he
-went on, serenely quoting without acknowledgment
-from the flowing stanzas of a gifted agitator whose
-mission had been completed but a week before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm terrible glad you brought that up," David
-responded enthusiastically. "I hated to mention it
-myself; but I've been wonderin' lately about a little
-scheme. D'ye think the men would be willin' to
-kind of enter into a bargain for gettin' a certain per
-cent. of the profits an'——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd stake my life they would," Mr. Hunter broke
-in fervidly. "Of course, we haven't no authority on
-that point, but I'm sure they'd be willin'—a more
-agreeable lot of men you never seen, Mr. Borland.
-Don't you think so, Tom?" he appealed to the
-approving Glady. The latter was framing an ardent
-endorsement—but David went on:</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"An' of course I'd expect them to enjoy the losses
-along with us too—then we'd all have the same
-kind o' feelin's all the time, like what becometh
-brethren. An' we're havin' a lot o' the last kind these
-days. What do you think, Mr. Glady?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Glady was sadly at a loss; with a kind of
-muscular spasm he seized his cup and held it out towards
-David; "I think I'll take another cup o' tea," he
-said vacantly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly—an' I want you an' Mr. Hunter to talk
-that little scheme over with the men. An' you must
-come back an' tell me what they think—come an'
-have supper with me again, an' I'll try an' have
-somethin' extra, so's we can eat an' drink an' be merry."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Nobody had suggested departure; but already the
-three men were moving out into the hall. "How's
-all the men keepin', Mr. Hunter?—the men in our
-shops, I mean," the genial host enquired.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All pretty good, sir—all except Jim Shiel, an'
-he's pretty sick. He's been drawin' benefits for a
-month now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that's too bad; but I'm glad you told me.
-I'll look around an' see him soon—your folks all
-well, Mr. Glady?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, thank you. But don't call me Mr. Glady,"
-said the friendly delegate; "I'd feel better if you'd
-just call me plain Tom."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"An' my name's Henry," chimed Mr. Hunter,
-"just plain Henry."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Them's two elegant names," agreed Mr. Borland,
-"an' I think myself they're best among friends.
-Speakin' about first names reminds me of an old
-soldier my grandfather used to know in Massachusetts.
-He fought for Washington, an' he had great yarns to
-tell. One was that one mornin' he assassinated
-thirty-seven British fellows before breakfast; an'
-Washington, he came out an' smiled round on the corpses.
-Of course, he slung old Hollister a word o' praise.
-'I done it for you, General,' says old Hollister.
-'Don't,' says Washington, 'don't call me General—call
-me George,'" and David led the chorus with
-great zest.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we'll be biddin' you good-evenin'," said
-Mr. Glady, extending his hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jest wait a minute; I sent word to Thomas to
-hitch up the chestnuts—he'll drive you down. Here
-he is now," as the luxurious carriage rolled to the
-door. Thomas controlled himself with difficulty as
-he watched Mr. Borland handing his petrified guests
-into the handsome equipage. Panic takes different
-forms; Mr. Glady wrapped the lap-robe carefully
-about his neck, while Mr. Hunter shook hands
-solemnly with the coachman.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't use this rig a terrible lot myself," he heard
-David saying; "it's a better fit for the missus. If
-you feel like drivin' round a bit to get the air,
-Thomas'll take good care o' you. Good-night,
-Henry; good-night, Tom," he sung out as the horses'
-hoofs rattled down the avenue.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then David went slowly back into the house. He
-wandered, smiling reminiscently, into the sitting-room.
-Pausing before the Venus de Milo, he chucked
-the classic chin.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, old lady," he said gravely, "there's more
-ways of chokin' a dog besides chokin' him with
-butter."</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="friendship-s-ministry"><span class="bold large">XVII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">FRIENDSHIP'S MINISTRY</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>If any man would learn the glory and beauty of a
-mighty tree we would bid him range the
-untroubled forest where God's masterpieces stand
-in rich profusion. But we are wrong. Not there
-will he learn how precious and how beautiful are the
-stately oak and the spreading beech and the
-whispering pine. But let him dwell a summer season
-through upon some treeless plain or rolling prairie,
-and there will be formed within him a just and
-discriminating sense of the healing ministry committed
-to these mediators between earth and sky.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And men learn friendship best where friends are not.
-Not when surrounded by strong and loving hearts,
-but when alone with thousands of indifferent lives, do
-we learn how truly rich is he who has a friend. To
-find then one who really cares is to confront in
-sudden joy a familiar face amid the waste of wilderness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Alone among indifferent thousands as he alighted
-from the train, Harvey Simmons turned his steps, the
-streets somewhat more familiar than before, towards
-the house where dwelt the only man he knew in all
-the crowded city. A few enquiries and a half hour's
-vigorous walking brought him within sight of the
-doctor's house; he was so intent on covering the
-remaining distance that two approaching figures had
-almost passed him by when he heard a voice that had
-something familiar about it.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll do the best I can, Wallis," the voice was
-saying, "but I guess we'll have to put the child under
-chloroform."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey turned a quick glance on the speaker. It
-was none other than the doctor himself.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dr. Horton—is that you, Dr. Horton?" the youth
-asked timidly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The older of the two men turned suddenly on his
-heel, the keen gray eyes scrutinizing the figure before
-him. It was but a moment till the same kindly smile
-that Harvey remembered so well broke over his face.
-Both hands were on the young man's shoulder in an
-instant.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't mean to say—I know you, mind—but
-you don't mean to say you're that young fellow from,
-from Glenallen—that brought his mother to me about
-her eyes?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>By this time Harvey had possession of one of the
-hands. "I'm the very same," he said, his face
-beaming with the joy of being recognized.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How is she?" the doctor asked like a flash.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The light faded a little from Harvey's face. "She
-can't see at all now, sir," he answered soberly.
-"She's quite blind—only she can tell when it's morning."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank the Lord for that," said the other
-fervently; "that's always a gleam of hope." Then
-followed a brief exchange of questions and answers.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How does your mother take it?" the doctor
-asked finally.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she's lovely—she's just as sweet and patient
-as she can be; doesn't think of herself at all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Your mother must be a regular brick."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's a great Christian," quoth her son. "I
-think that's what keeps her up."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Shouldn't wonder—it's the best kind of stimulant
-I know of," the doctor answered in a droll sort of
-way, turning and smiling at his companion. "Oh,
-excuse me, Wallis—what's this the name is?" he
-asked Harvey; "I've just forgotten it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Simmons, Harvey Simmons," the other answered.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course; it's quite familiar now that I hear it.
-This is Dr. Wallis—and this is Mr. Simmons," he
-said to the other. "Dr. Wallis was just taking me to
-see a patient. Did you want to see me about
-anything in particular, Harvey?—you won't mind my
-calling you that, will you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It only needed a glance at the pleased face to see
-how welcome was the familiarity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, really, I did," Harvey responded frankly.
-Wherewith, briefly and simply, he told his friend the
-purpose which had brought him to the city, outlining
-the academic course he intended to pursue, earnest
-resolve evident in every word. "And I wanted to
-get your advice about a boarding-house," he
-concluded; "you see, I thought you might know some
-nice quiet place that wouldn't—that wouldn't be too
-dear," he said, flushing a little. "I'm quite a stranger
-in the city—but I don't want to go to a regular
-boarding-house if I can help it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, no," the doctor began, knitting his brows.
-"And I really ought to be able to help you out on
-that. But I tell you—you come along with us; then
-we can talk as we go along. Besides, I'm sure
-Dr. Wallis here will be able to advise you much better
-than I could—he knows every old woman in the city."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His confrère smiled. "It's mostly the submerged
-tenth I know," he answered; "I'm afraid there aren't
-many of my patients you'd care to board with.
-Want a place near the college, I suppose?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's not so essential," said Harvey; "I wouldn't
-mind a walk of a mile or so at all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Good idea," said the other; "most students are
-pretty cheerful feeders—want a room to yourself?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd prefer it—if it wouldn't add too much to the
-expense. I've always got to consider that, you
-know," returned Harvey, smiling bravely towards his
-new-found friend.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Right again," affirmed the doctor. "Single stalls
-are the thing; everybody sleeps better without
-assistance. Sooner have a few children around?
-Some fellows study better with kids in the house, and
-others again go wild if they hear one howl."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe I'd get along just as well without them,"
-said Harvey, laughing; "you see, I'll need to study
-very hard—and I don't believe they help one much."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's like studying in a monkeys' cage," asserted
-Dr. Wallis vigorously; "what I hate about little
-gaffers in a boarding-house is the way they always want
-to look at your watch," he enlarged solemnly, "and
-five times out of six they let it fall. It's fun for them,
-as the old fable says, but it's death to the frogs. And
-of course you want to get into a place where they
-have good cooking; it's pretty hard to do the higher
-mathematics on hash and onions—and lots o' students
-have lost their degrees through bad butter. I've
-known men whose whole professional life was tainted
-by the butter they got at college."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But I'm not over particular about what I eat,"
-began Harvey; "if the place is warm, and if they
-keep it——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right enough," broke in the other, "but
-it makes a difference just the same. You've got the
-same kind of internal mechanism as other fellows,
-and you've got to reckon with it. Well, we'll see
-what we can do. I've got a place or two in mind
-now. I'll tell you about them later—we're almost at
-my patient's house. I say, you may as well come
-in—it'll be a little glimpse of life for you; and we can
-see more about this matter after we come out."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Another hundred yards brought them to their destination,
-a rather squalid looking cottage on a rather
-squalid looking street. Dr. Wallis knocked at the
-door, pushing it open and entering without tarrying
-for response. As Harvey followed with the older
-doctor a child's wailing fell upon his ears, emerging
-from the only other room the little house contained.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just wait here," said Dr. Wallis to the other two;
-"the child's in there—I'll be back in a minute."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He disappeared, Harvey and his friend seating
-themselves on a rude bench near the door. Both
-looked around for a minute at the pitiful bareness of
-the room; and the eyes of both settled down upon a
-tawdry doll that lay, forsaken and disconsolate, on the
-floor. Tawdry enough it was, and duly fractured in
-the head; but it redeemed the wretched room with
-the flavour of humanity, and the solitary sunbeam
-that had braved the grimy window played about the
-battered brow, and the vision of some child's wan face
-rose above the hapless bundle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He's a jewel," Dr. Horton said in a half whisper,
-"a jewel of the first water."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?" asked Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>For answer, the doctor jerked his head backward
-towards the adjoining room. "He just lives
-among poor people like these—they're all idolaters of
-his. He gives away every cent he makes; when he
-does get a rich patient he makes them shell out for
-the poor ones. I know one of my patients called him
-in once for an emergency—sprained his big toe
-getting out of the bath-tub—and Wallis charged him
-fifty dollars for rubbing it. Then he went out and
-gave the money all away; the patient forgot all about
-his toe after Wallis got through with him, I can tell
-you—the pain went higher up. But I was kind of
-glad—he was the head of a big plumbing firm, and I
-always thought Providence used Wallis as the humble
-instrument to chasten him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just come this way please, Dr. Horton," said a
-voice from the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Sitting alone, Harvey listened to the muffled sounds
-within. The crying subsided as the odour of
-chloroform arose; and the voice of weeping was now the
-mother's, not the child's. Finally both grew still and
-a long silence followed. So long did it seem that
-Harvey had moved towards the door, intending to
-walk about till the operation should be over, when
-suddenly both men emerged from the tiny apartment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's all over," said Dr. Horton—"and I think it's
-been successful; I believe the child will see as well
-as ever she did."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey looked as relieved as though he had known
-the parties all his life.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, Horton," broke in the other doctor,
-"what'll you charge for this? Better tell me, and I
-can tell her," nodding towards the room where the
-mother was still bended over the beshadowed child.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that's not worrying me," said the specialist,
-carefully replacing an instrument in his case as he
-Spoke. "Nobody looks for money from a neighbourhood
-like this," indicating the unpromising surroundings
-by a glance around. "I'll get my reward
-in heaven."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A little on account wouldn't do any harm," returned
-the cheery Wallis. "It's out of the question
-to ask a man of your station to pike away down here
-for nothing; I'm going to try anyhow—just wait
-here till I come back," wherewith he turned towards
-the little room, closing the door carefully behind him
-as he entered.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He had hardly got inside before, to Harvey's
-amazement, Dr. Horton dropped his surgical case
-and tiptoed swiftly to the door, stooping down to
-gaze through a keyhole that long years and frequent
-operations had left more than usually spacious.
-Watching intently, Harvey could see the face of his
-friend distorted by an expression partly of mirth and
-partly of indignation. For Dr. Horton could descry
-the woman still bending over the little bed, evidently
-oblivious to the fact that the doctor had returned;
-and Dr. Wallis himself was conducting a hurried
-search through his pockets upper and nether, a
-grimace of satisfaction indicating that he had found at
-last the material he was in quest of.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The spying specialist had barely time to spring
-back to where Harvey was standing, when the other
-reappeared, smiling and jubilant.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You never can tell, Horton," he began, holding
-out a bill; "you can never tell—there's nothing
-like trying. Here's a five I collected for you, and
-it was given gladly enough. It's not very much
-but——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You go to the devil," broke in the specialist,
-trying to look angry; "you think you're infernal
-smart, don't you?—but you haven't got all the brains
-in the world."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You surprise me, Dr. Horton," the other began
-vigorously, commanding a splendid appearance of
-injured amazement. "You don't mean to insinuate
-that I put part of the fee in my pocket, do you?" he
-demanded, striking a martial attitude, and inwardly
-very proud of the way he had changed the scent.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Put that rag back in your left-hand vest pocket
-where you got it," growled the senior physician
-as he picked up his hat. "You may work your
-smart-Alec tricks with the poor natives round
-here—but you can't come it on me. Take Simmons
-along and find him some place to lay his head," he
-added, opening the door and leading the way
-outward to the street.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The three walked together for perhaps four or five
-squares, the two physicians still engaged in the
-genial hostilities that Dr. Wallis's financial genius
-had provoked. Suddenly the latter came to a standstill
-at the junction of two streets, his eyes roving
-along a richly shaded avenue to his left.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess you'd better go along home, Horton,"
-he said—"you'll want to post your ledger anyhow,
-after a profitable day like this. And I think I'll just
-take your friend here and go on the still hunt for a
-little. Don't look much like a boarding-house
-street, does it?" he added, as he marked the look of
-surprise on his contemporary's face. "But you never
-can tell—anyhow, I've got a place along here in my
-mind's eye, and we may just as well find out now as
-any other time."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Wish you luck," the older man flung after them
-as he went his way; "if you get lodgings at any of
-those houses you'll have to sleep with the butler."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It does look a little unlikely, I'll admit,"
-Dr. Wallis said to Harvey as they started down the
-avenue; "but the whole case is quite unusual. This is
-a woman of over fifty I'm going to see—nobody
-knows exactly—and she's almost the only rich
-patient I've got. She lives a strange, half hermit kind
-of life—goes out almost none—and mighty few
-people ever get in. Except her clergyman, of course—she
-insists on seeing her minister constantly; I think
-he's just a curate, and I've always had the feeling that
-he'd consider death great gain—if it came to her.
-But for a while back she's been talking to me as if
-she wouldn't mind some one in the house, if they
-were congenial. It seems one or two attempts have
-been made to break in at nights—and the butler
-sleeps like a graven image. Just the other day I
-suggested she might take in a nurse, a young lady I
-know, who wants to get a quiet home—but I nearly
-had to run for shelter; she gave her whole sex the
-finest decorating I've heard for years. No women
-for her, thank you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is she a little odd?" Harvey ventured to enquire.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor looked him in the eyes and laughed.
-"Well, rather! Odd, I should say she is. But she's
-just as genuine as she can be. And if you get in
-there you'll be as comfortable as you'd be in Windsor
-Castle—quiet and secluded as a monastery, the very
-place for a student. She's been gathering beautiful
-things for years, all sorts of curios and rarities—and
-she's passionately fond of animals, keeps a regular
-menagerie. And she's great on keeping well;
-pretends to despise all doctors, and has a few formulas
-for every occasion. Deep breathing is her
-specialty—she's a regular fiend on deep breathing. But
-you'll see for yourself," the doctor concluded, as they
-turned in at an open gate and began to mount the
-stone steps that led to a rather imposing-looking
-door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Spacious and inviting, if somewhat neglected
-looking, were the old-fashioned grounds about the
-old-fashioned house. Great spreading trees stood here
-and there, perhaps thirty or forty in all, some in the
-sombre dishabille of autumn, some in unchanging
-robes of green. And two summer-houses, one
-smaller than the other, nestling in opposite corners,
-stood deserted and lonely amid the new-fallen carpet
-of dying leaves. A solitary flower-bed, evidently ill
-at ease amid the unfettered life about it, waved its
-few remaining banners, the stamp of death upon
-them, pensively in the evening breeze. There was
-an ancient fountain, too, but its lips were parched and
-dry, and the boyish form that stood in athletic pose
-above it looked weary of the long and fruitless vigil.
-Two brazen dogs stood near the gate, sullen and
-uncaring now, the chill wind awakening memories of
-many a winter's storm, and foretelling, too, another
-winter waiting at the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Wallis gave the brazen door-knob an
-uncommonly vigorous tug. "She likes you to ring
-as if you meant it," he explained to Harvey, the
-distant product of his violence pealing and repealing
-through the house.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll likely have to wait a little while," the
-doctor remarked; "she never lets a servant come to the
-door till she peeks through that upper left-hand
-window herself. Don't look," he added hurriedly; "she
-mightn't let us in if she catches any one looking."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>After a few minutes' further waiting, the harsh
-grating of the heavy bolt and the violent turning of
-the reluctant handle were followed by the apparition
-of a head of iron gray, a pair of absolutely emotionless
-eyes fixed upon the visitors in turn. Dr. Wallis
-nodded, the man barely returning his salutation as he
-led the way into a large and solemnly furnished
-apartment on the left. Harvey's principal impression
-was of the height of the ceiling and the multitude of
-mirrors that confronted him on every hand; there
-seemed to be a goodly assemblage in the room, so
-often were its two solitary inmates reproduced.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey and the doctor were still engaged in a
-mental inventory of the room, its paintings, bronzes,
-and what not, all claiming their attention, when the
-solemn head of iron gray reappeared at the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Farringall says she'll see you in her room,"
-said the sphinx, his lips closing with an audible
-smack; whereupon the scanty procession was
-reformed, following the servant as he led the way up a
-winding flight of stairs. The man knocked at the
-door of a small sitting-room, precipitately retiring as
-soon as he had pushed it partly open.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="voices-of-the-past"><span class="bold large">XVIII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">VOICES OF THE PAST</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Harvey followed his companion inside,
-peering eagerly for what awaited them.
-The mistress of the house fitted her surroundings
-well. She was reclining in an ample chair,
-a half-emptied cup of tea on a little table beside her.
-She was evidently much above medium height, spare
-and thin, a rusty dressing-gown folded loosely about
-her. Her hair was quite gray, and quite at liberty,
-not at all ill-becoming to the large, strong features,
-and the well-formed head. The brow was broad and
-high, wrinkled slightly, and furrowed deeply down
-the centre; high cheek-bones, a rather mobile mouth,
-a complexion still unfaded, joined with the bright
-penetrating eyes to make a decidedly interesting
-countenance. The face looked capable of tenderness,
-yet as if tenderness had cost her dear. A pair of
-gold-rimmed glasses sat shimmering on her brow;
-one swift shuffle of the face reduced them to their
-proper sphere.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Barlow didn't tell me there were two," she said,
-without looking at the doctor. She was looking
-beyond him at the stranger's face. "He's got both
-arms anyhow, thank heaven," she said, looking at
-Harvey. "He nearly always brings people with one
-arm, that want help," she explained to the newcomer,
-motioning towards a chair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This is Mr. Simmons, Miss Farringall," the
-doctor began blandly. "I took the liberty——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know him," she interrupted gently, still
-surveying Harvey. "Didn't you hear me talking to him?
-And I know all about the liberty too—I do wish
-Barlow would count people before he shows them up."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you feel to-day, Miss Farringall?"
-enquired the physician.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Better," replied his patient. "I gave Barlow
-that medicine you sent me—I always feel better after
-Barlow takes it. Is your friend going to be a doctor?"
-she went on in the same breath, inclining her head
-towards Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, he's going to the university—he's a
-student," the doctor informed her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's quite different—that'll save somebody's
-life. What did you bring him for?" she demanded
-frankly, turning the keen eyes for the first time from
-Harvey's face and fastening them on the doctor's.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, he was with me; he's a friend of Dr. Horton's
-and mine—and I thought I'd just bring him in.
-This is his first day. Besides," and the wily tactician
-paused a moment, "I wanted to ask your advice."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll charge you doctor's rates," said the spinster,
-restoring her spectacles to their former altitude.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's cheap enough for anything," retorted the
-other. "And anyhow, I'll take the usual time to
-pay it. But seriously, Miss Farringall, I want your
-counsel on a matter we're both interested in. You
-see, I've promised to help Mr. Simmons get a
-boarding-house if I can, and I thought you might know
-of some suitable place—you've lived so long in the
-city," he explained with an amiable smile.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's remarkably true," interrupted the lady as
-she rattled the spoon in the cup beside her—"and
-I've knocked about so much; lived in the streets,
-haven't I?—been a kind of a city missionary, I
-suppose. What kind of a place does your friend
-want?" she enquired with mock seriousness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, any nice quiet place," answered the intrepid
-doctor, "with plain honest people that'll make him
-comfortable. He wants quiet—and refinement—more
-than anything else, I should say."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If I had my things on, I'd just go out now and
-enquire around among the neighbours," the woman
-avowed gravely, trying to control two very rebellious
-corners about her mouth. "Where do you come
-from, sir?" she asked abruptly, turning on the silent
-Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"From the country, Miss Farringall—from a place
-called Glenallen."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Parents living?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My mother's living, ma'am; she lives alone—except,
-I have a sister."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's her name?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jessie."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sensible name. Are you a churchman?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Miss Farringall—at least I hope so."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"High?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," answered Harvey, wondering slightly.
-"No, just Presbyterian."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" said Miss Farringall, "I see. But you can
-repeat the creed?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, we learned that at school."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And if you were living in a—in a church family,
-you'd be willing to come in to prayers when the
-rector came? You'd be quite willing, I suppose?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd love to," said Harvey fervently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And do you love animals?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A good many," Harvey answered cautiously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Birds?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I love birds," said Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Dogs?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Better still," replied the interrogated.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Cats?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sometimes. Of course, Miss Farringall, I won't
-have a great deal of time to devote to pets. I'll
-have to study pretty hard; it's largely through the
-kindness of a couple of friends that I have the
-chance to——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But his interrogator was already ringing a
-hand-bell with great vigour.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Barlow," she said, as the butler reappeared,
-"bring Grey here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," murmured the mobile servant as he
-disappeared, returning a minute later with a large
-specimen of the feline tribe at his heels. The
-animal was mewing loudly as it came. Barlow turned
-and departed as his four-footed companion bolted in
-at the open door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Farringall made a slight outward motion with
-her hands and the cat promptly sprang into her lap.
-Then he turned to survey the company, wasting
-only the briefest glance on the doctor's familiar face,
-but subjecting Harvey to the scrutiny that his
-strangerhood seemed to render necessary.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You may go, Grey," the woman said in an
-almost inaudible voice, whereupon the cat slowly
-descended, standing still a moment to continue its
-examination of the stranger. Gradually it drew closer,
-rubbing its sides at length against Harvey's ankles,
-still scrutinizing the face above. Harvey smiled,
-whereat the creature looked more intently than before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't speak," whispered Miss Farringall, "I believe
-he's going to——" the prediction lost in a little
-gasp of excitement as the feline suddenly bounded
-into Harvey's lap, thence to his shoulder, its tail
-aloft like a banner, while a gentle purring issued
-forth as it began an affectionate circuit of Harvey's
-head.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Farringall's face was radiant, her spectacles
-now at high mast as a result of much facial contortion.
-"You can stay here if you like, Mr. Simmons, till—till
-I find a place for you," she said, her eyes still
-fixed in admiration on the cat. Dr. Wallis said
-nothing, inwardly blessing the whole feline race.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're very kind, ma'am," Harvey began, his
-face crimson with an excitement he could hardly
-explain. "And I'll be good to Grey," he added
-desperately, not knowing what else to say.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You mustn't feed him, mind," the other broke
-out intensely—"not a mouthful of anything. And
-no thanks, if you please; I never knew Grey to make
-a mistake. Besides, there's something about you
-that reminds me of—of somebody else," she
-concluded, her tone softened into unwonted gentleness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Was he a relative, Miss Farringall?" the doctor
-ventured, anxious that the reference should be
-appropriately received.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who said he was a he at all?" retorted his friend,
-turning suddenly upon him as she groped aloft for
-the departed spectacles.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You can have the room over the dining-room,"
-she went on, addressing Harvey again; "it opens on
-the lawn, and you must leave your window open
-summer and winter—wherever you maybe in winter,"
-she corrected; "and breathe deep—breathe deep of
-the fresh air of heaven. Are you a deep breather,
-Mr. Simmons?" she enquired anxiously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've never thought much about it," said Harvey
-frankly; "but I'll try and learn, Miss Farringall,"
-quenching a smile as he looked up at the earnest
-face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's life," she assured him earnestly, "pure life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Farringall's right," the doctor added gravely.
-"There's nothing more connected with life than
-breathing. I've often noticed that in my practice."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But the irreverent reflection was wasted on the
-zealous heart of Miss Farringall. "Where are you
-going to stay to-night?" she asked; "it'll soon be
-dark."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey hesitated. "I thought I'd just take him
-home with me," the doctor volunteered; "then he
-could come here to-morrow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where's your trunk?" pursued the hostess.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's at the station," said Harvey; "I've got the
-check."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Barlow'll attend to having it sent up; there's
-really no reason for him going away from here
-to-night. I'm willing—you and Grey are credentials
-enough for me," she added, her face relaxing into
-a more pronounced smile than Harvey had seen there
-before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Dr. Wallis was already moving towards the door.
-The grave Barlow had it open in advance. "You'll
-let us know in good time when you get another place
-for my friend, Miss Farringall—that is, when he has
-to leave."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, I'll attend to that," she assured him.
-"Don't let Grey get out, Barlow—it's too cold for
-him. Keep your mouth closed, Barlow—breathe
-through your nose," for the sudden shock of the
-intelligence that the doctor's words implied, the idea
-slowly filtering in upon him that a stranger was to
-pass the night beneath that sacred roof, had thrown
-poor Barlow's mouth as wide open as his ears.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Farringall'll let you know when you've got
-to leave, Mr. Simmons," said Dr. Wallis as he
-glanced furtively at Harvey, winking violently the
-while. "You'll feel more comfortable, I'm sure," he
-resumed, his features quite composed again as he
-turned towards the mistress of the house, "to have
-a man around at nights—there have been two cases
-of house-breaking on this street lately."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know that," she answered with bated breath;
-"I'm often afraid at nights. I thought some one
-was breaking in last night; I was so sure of it that I
-turned on the light and began reading the prayer for
-those in peril on the sea—but it was just Barlow
-snoring. You snore like Niagara Falls, don't you,
-Barlow?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," replied the accomplished, without
-moving a muscle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>With a last cheery word to Harvey, and promising
-to return soon, Dr. Wallis withdrew, leaving the
-new-found relation to work itself out as best it could.
-Harvey waited a few minutes amid the mirrors in the
-parlour while his room was being prepared for its
-new occupant; to which he was promptly conducted
-by Miss Farringall herself, Barlow having retired for
-repairs to a very startled system.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I should think your trunk would be here a little
-after supper," she said as she showed him in, "and
-I'd advise you to change your flannels when it comes.
-Excuse my advice on such matters," she added, a
-delicate little flush stealing to her cheek, "but I'm
-old enough to be your mother—and besides, it's
-getting quite cool outside. I think there's nothing
-so wholesome as warm flannels—warm flannels and
-deep breathing. Sometimes I think people wouldn't
-ever die if they'd only change their flannels when
-the weather changes—and keep on breathing deep,"
-she concluded, drawing a profound breath the while,
-her lips locked like a vice. "Supper'll be ready in
-half an hour."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then she hurried back to her little sitting-room,
-the kindly bosom rising and falling as she faithfully
-pursued the wondrous treatment. Gaining the room,
-she immediately rang the bell, and a moment later
-the partially recovered butler stood before her. He,
-too, had had a treatment; for which cause he breathed
-as lightly as the demands of nature would permit.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hand me that box from my secretary, Barlow—that
-ebony box."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He obeyed; and Miss Farringall held it a moment
-in her hands, then adjusted a tiny key and turned
-the lock. A queer little tremor rippled over her
-lips as the thin fingers groped a moment at the very
-bottom of the box. Those same fingers showed just
-the least unsteadiness as they released the dim gold
-clasp that bound a jet-black frame, which, opening,
-disclosed the portrait of a man about twenty-two or
-twenty-three years of age. She held it musingly in
-front of her a moment. Then she held it out
-towards Barlow, who promptly moved forward like
-some statue out-marching from its niche, his arms
-rigid by his side.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You've never seen that before, Barlow?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, mum."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who do you think it's like, Barlow?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't say, mum."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you think it resembles that visitor of
-ours—that young man Dr. Wallis brought this
-evening?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," Barlow assented, almost before she
-had finished her question.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think it very much like him, Barlow?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's his livin' image, mum," said the talking
-statue.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You can go, Barlow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," said Barlow, already gone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The woman sat alone in the fading light, the
-picture still before her. Suddenly she started,
-started as violently, almost, as if the dead face before
-her had broken into speech. Again the bell awoke
-the echoes of the lonely house, and again the servant
-stalked like a shadow to the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Barlow, what did Dr. Wallis say was that young
-man's name?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't say, mum," answered Barlow, with the
-air of one who has been charged with murder. Even
-in the shadow he noticed the whiteness of the lips
-that questioned him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, find it out then," she exclaimed, her voice
-rising as she half rose in her chair—"find it out, I
-say. What do you suppose you're here for, if it's
-not to know who's in the house?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," Barlow responded, his tone now the
-tone of the convicted.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Never mind that—go and find out the name.
-Tell him we'll need to know when the postman
-brings the letters—tell him anything—go now," as
-the menial vanished in the direction of Harvey's room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was but a moment till he was back. "It's
-Simmons, mum—he says it's Simmons."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Farringall was now erect. "What was his
-father's name?—his mother lives alone, he told me.
-Ask him what was his father's name—this minute,
-hear."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Barlow was back in even less time than before.
-"Simmons," he said solemnly; "it seems his father's
-name was Simmons too, mum."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His mistress advanced a step or two towards him;
-the faithful Barlow bowed his head like one ready to
-be offered. "Go back," she said in a low tense tone,
-"go back and ask him what his father's first name
-was. I want to know. And if you blunder this
-time, sir, you'll walk out of my house, mind."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," agreed the man, lifting his eyes
-devotedly as he spoke, and vanishing into the outer
-gloom.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Edward, mum," he informed her in a moment,
-"Edward Simmons—and he says what might you
-want to know for, mum."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A wave of indescribable emotion swept over the
-woman's face. She walked slowly to the window,
-gazing blindly out at the encroaching shadows of
-the autumn night. She saw the lurid sky beyond
-the city's utmost fringe, still crimson with the gilding
-of a departed sun, touched with the colour that was
-fading fast; even as she looked, the once radiant
-clouds were turning cold and gray, the ashen hue of
-age displacing the splendour of their transient joy.
-And the withered leaves, contemptuously tossed by
-the rising wind, moaned about the knees of many a
-heartless tree that had once flaunted them so proudly,
-whispering the story of their beauty to both earth
-and sky. But the silent gazer saw little of the
-autumn scene. For the grave and tender eyes were
-fixed on something far beyond it, far behind, nestling
-in the bosom of departed years; and what they saw
-was blighted with no decay of autumn, but stood
-fresh and beautiful in the light of summer. Green
-fields they saw, and tender bud and opening
-blossom everywhere, the very clouds beautiful in
-noble gloom because of the unconquerable sun.
-And that sun was Love—and the face she saw amid
-it all was the face of Edward Simmons.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Her eyes suddenly seemed to withdraw themselves
-from the scene without, turning wistfully upon the
-picture she still held in her hand. Only a moment
-did they linger there before they were turned again
-upon the autumn world without. And lo! The
-blackness of it all, its loneliness, all the pathos of the
-withered summer, seemed now to rise up before the
-woman's creative gaze; the sky, with its mystic
-tragedy as the glow surrendered to the gloom, the
-unbannered trees, the hurrying, homeless leaves, the
-dirge of the mournful wind—all these were deepened
-and darkened by that other vision of summer
-gladness that now was past and gone. For there is no
-mmistrant to sorrow like the sweet face of some dead
-happiness; it is June that gives November all its
-bitterness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Long musing, she turned at last from the window,
-again summoning the faithful servant.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Barlow," she said, the tone quite low, "go to the
-vault—look in that lower left-hand drawer and bring
-me a parcel of papers there. They're only newspapers,"
-she added, "all tied together; bring them here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes later Barlow handed her the
-parcel. "Shall I light the gas, mum?" he asked,
-turning at the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, thank you; I don't want it—but you can
-kindle the fire."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then she sat, the papers and the photograph in
-her lap, till the crackling flame was bright. And
-again the wistful eyes pored over the past as though
-it were an open book. Far clearer now she saw it
-than before. For every leaping tongue of flame
-babbled of other days while the hearth-fire plied its
-ancient subtle industry, calling up long-vanished
-faces as it ever does, rebuilding the ruined past,
-echoing once again the long silent tones of
-love—and the panorama of the bygone years passed in a
-lane of light between the burning eyes and the
-mystic fire, both knowing, both caring, both sorrowing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was almost dark when the spare and slender
-form rose from the chair, moving to the secretary in
-the corner of the room. From the lowest compartment
-of it she lifted, very gently, a little bundle of
-letters. Then she picked up the photograph again,
-extracting an old newspaper from the parcel before
-her; a quick glance at its date confirmed what she
-already knew. Then, with the old daguerreotype and
-the old letters and the old faded newspaper in her
-hand, she sank upon a hassock that lay beside the
-fire—the fire too was old, so old and dear—and she
-smiled to herself as she settled down in the old
-girlish way, the lonely blaze greeting her as it
-flung its glow again upon the flushed and quivering
-face, as dear to it as in the gladder days
-of yore. One by one she turned them over—the
-picture and the letters and the paper—the whole
-story of her life was there. The shadows gathered
-deeper and darker as she sat and fondled these
-precious things, the only real treasure of all her
-treasure-laden house—but the fire burned on as
-brightly as in other days, as brightly as if it had
-never faltered through the years.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>It was a new sensation that crept about Harvey
-Simmons' heart that night, such a sensation as can
-come only to the youth who is denied for the first
-time the vision of his mother's face. It seemed
-strange to have said good-night to nobody in the old
-familiar way, to hear no reassuring sound of voices
-indistinctly chatting in the distance, as Jessie's and his
-mother's always could be heard, and to give or hear
-no final word of mirth or message as the lamp went
-out and the comfortable couch received him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The room appointed to him was replete with all
-that might minister to comfort, even rich and elegant
-in its appointments. How often Harvey had wished
-his own humble home had boasted such a room, not
-for himself but for another; yet, now that he had
-come into possession of all he had so often envied,
-how paltry and insignificant it seemed, how far
-beneath what he had imagined—and how gladly he
-would have exchanged it all for his little room at home,
-if he might have but again been near the dear ones
-from whom he had never been parted a single night
-in all the course of his uneventful life.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His eyes fell upon a little table in the corner,
-generously furnished with materials for writing.
-It was, in consequence, very late before he
-committed himself to sleep. Yet he had only written
-two letters, the first to his mother, a faithful and
-exhaustive narrative of every hour since he had seen her
-last. It was a new experience to him, and he
-wondered a little at the almost mysterious ease with
-which he filled page after page. It was a new-found
-joy, this of writing—and both intellect and emotion
-entered into the task with a zest and instinct that
-surprised himself.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The second letter was begun with much misgiving,
-and after long consideration. For it was to
-Madeline, to whom, in a kind of way he was quite at a
-loss to understand, his thought went out in his
-loneliness—far more, indeed, than it had ever done when
-he lived beside her. Much misgiving about this
-second letter there was, as has been said; and yet he
-felt it could not be unwelcome since its purpose was
-so far from personal—for its main story was of the
-little child and the poor family of whom he had come
-to know through his contact with Dr. Wallis. And
-he knew Madeline would love to help, in some way
-her own delicate judgment would suggest. But
-before he was through his pen had rather run away
-with him; and some of his impressions of the new
-life about him, with a little, too, that treated of life in
-general, had sighed itself in a kind of lonely soliloquy
-through the expanding pages. And he read this
-second letter over twice, correcting it with great care,
-a process the first had been denied.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His trunk had been duly delivered, as Miss Farringall
-had assured him it should be, and it was with
-a kind of reverent tenderness that the lonely stranger
-raised the lid and surveyed all his poor belongings,
-each one lying where it had been placed by the
-loving hands that were now so far away. The care-worn
-face rose again before him as he bended over these
-last tokens of his mother's devoted care; and
-instinctively, with a dumb sense that she would have
-wished it so, he searched first for the sacred book he
-had seen her place there. He soon found it, and
-carrying it to where the light might fall upon it, he
-turned wistfully to the fly-leaf. Still with his eyes
-fixed on it he sat down on the bed beside him, the
-dim mist gathering as the poor misguided handwriting
-looked up at him in all the eloquence of sightless
-love:</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<dl class="docutils">
-<dt class="noindent"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Dear Harvey</em></dt>
-<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><em class="italics">From his loving mother</em><span>"</span></p>
-</dd>
-</dl>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>was all that was written there. But every character
-was aflame with fondness, and every word was a
-vision, bright with tender beauty, fragrant of the
-unselfish courage that had filled their lowly lives with a
-gladness denied to many a richer home. The very
-waywardness of the writing, the lines aslant and
-broken, enhanced the dauntless love that penned
-them; and Harvey's lips were touched to the mute
-symbols with reverent passion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Still swimming, his eyes fell again upon the page,
-and he noticed—what he had not seen before—that
-something had been written at the lower corner.
-Isaiah 66:13, it said; and a moment later he
-had found the text. The full heart overflowed
-as he read: "As one whom his mother comforteth
-so will I comfort you." With a stifled sob,
-and still repeating the wonderful words, he sank
-on his knees beside the bed. And as he did so there
-arose before him the vision of other days, long
-departed now, when he had thus knelt for his evening
-prayer; a tranquil face looked down again upon the
-childish form, and he could almost feel the chill of
-little feet seeking cover while he prayed; the warm
-hands held his own, reverently folded together, and
-amid the stillness that wrapped his heart there floated
-out, with a silvery sound like that of an evening bell,
-the tones of the dear voice that had been so quick to
-prompt his childish memory or to recall his
-wandering thoughts. The hurried ending, the impulsive
-uprising, the swift relapse into boyish merriment, the
-plunge into the waiting crib, the good-night kiss, the
-sudden descent of darkness, the salvo of farewells the
-cozy cuddling into the arms of slumber—all these came
-back to him with a preciousness he had never felt before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His loneliness, prompted by every reminiscence,
-slowly turned to prayer. He tried to thank God for
-all the treasure his soul possessed in the dear ones at
-home, and to ask for strength to be worthy of love
-and sacrifice so great. He promised to be true; a swift
-memory of his mother's fear lest dormant appetite
-should prove his foe mingled with his prayer a moment,
-and was gone. For the whole burden of his pleading
-seemed to revolve again and again about the love-laden
-text that had taken such a hold upon his heart,
-till at last he only repeated it over and over before God:
-"As one whom his mother comforteth so will I
-comfort you." Suddenly he paused; for he felt, though
-he knew not why, that his mother too was kneeling
-by the Mercy Seat—distant far, sundered by weary
-miles, yet he could not dispel the assurance, which
-warmed and caressed his very life, that another kept
-her sacred midnight vigil. And as he thought of
-Jessie's slumbering face, and of the other's, upturned
-in pleading for her son, a deeper peace than he had
-known before crept about him, the loneliness vanished
-like a mist, and but a few minutes passed before he
-slept the sweet sleep of all homeless lads who trust
-the keeping of their mother's God.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-brush-with-death"><span class="bold large">XIX</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">A BRUSH WITH DEATH</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>It was quite in vain that Harvey tried to read.
-For two much-loved faces, one worn and grave,
-the other bright and hopeful, kept coming and
-going between him and his book. Another, too,
-whose setting was a wealth of golden hair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You seem in a hurry to get on—guess you're
-going home," broke in a voice from the seat
-immediately opposite his own in the crowded car.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey smiled and laid his book aside. "I'm in a
-hurry all right," he answered, "though I don't know
-that looking at one's watch every few minutes helps
-matters much. But I don't relish the idea of being
-late."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Student, aren't you?" asked the man, nodding
-towards a pin in evidence on Harvey's coat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—I'm just going home for a little visit."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Been long at college?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A couple of years," answered Harvey; "they go
-rather slowly when a fellow's anxious to get through.
-Say, isn't this train going at a tremendous pace?
-What's the matter?" his voice rising as he clutched
-savagely at the side of the seat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was too late for his companion to make reply—already
-he was being caught into the current of the storm.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>What followed defies description. Harvey's first
-thought was of some irregularity that would last but
-a moment—he could not realize that the worst had
-happened. A shrill voice from another part of the
-car cried out that they were off the rail, but he swiftly
-rejected the suggestion. An instant later he was
-as one struggling for his life. The engine had never
-left the rail and the driver was quite unconscious of the
-situation. Dragged ruthlessly along, the car leaped
-and bounded like a living thing: it seemed, like a
-runaway horse, to be stampeded by its own wild
-plunging as it was flung from side to side, bouncing
-almost clear of the road-bed with every revolution of
-the wheels.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Flung into the corner by the window, Harvey
-braced himself as best he could with hands and feet,
-dimly marvelling at the terrible length of time the
-process seemed to last. He glanced upward at the
-bell-rope, swingly wildly; but he knew any attempt
-to reach it would be disastrous, if not fatal. Still the
-mad thing tore on; shrieks and cries rose above the
-din; parcels and valises were everywhere battering
-about as if flung from catapults; one or two of the
-passengers cried out in plaintive wrath, some as if
-remonstrating with a mettlesome steed, others as if
-appealing for a chance against the sudden violence.
-Harvey remembered, long after, how he had said to
-himself that he was still alive—and uninjured—and
-that all might yet be well, if it would only stop.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Confused and terrified though he was, his senses
-worked with almost preternatural acuteness; he
-remarked the spasmodic eagerness with which men
-clutched at one another, muttering the while like
-contestants in a mighty struggle; the very grotesqueness
-of the thing flashed upon his mind an instant,
-as, the car taking its last desperate bound, he saw
-strong men flung about like feathers in a gale; two
-or three near him, shouting wildly, were tossed to the
-very ceiling of the car, their limbs outflung as when
-athletes jump high in air. Then the coach was
-pitched headlong; the man to whom he had spoken
-but a moment before was hurled through the spacious
-window, and the overturning car sealed his lips
-with eternal silence; two stalwart men fell full on
-Harvey's crouching form—darkness wrapped him
-about as the car ploughed its way down the steep
-embankment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"This is death," he said involuntarily, and aloud,
-as the dread descent was being accomplished.
-Many things—much that could never be reproduced,
-more that could never be uttered—swam before him
-in the darkness. A sort of reverent curiosity
-possessed his soul, hurrying, as he believed himself to
-be, into the eternal. He was to know now! All of
-which he had so often heard, and thought, and
-conjectured, was about to unfold itself before him. A
-swift sense of the insignificance of all things save
-one—such an estimate as he had never had before—and
-a great conception of the transcendent claim of
-the eternal, swept through his mind. Then
-suddenly—as if emerging from the very wreck of things,
-illumining all the darkness and clothing the storm
-with a mysterious calm, there arose the vision of his
-mother's face. A moment later all was still; blessed
-stillness, and like to the quietness of death. The car
-was motionless.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But only for a moment did the stillness reign.
-Then came the wild surging of human voices, like
-the sound of many waters; appeal, frenzied fear,
-tormenting pain, pitiful enquiry—all blended to make
-it such a discord of human sounds as he had never
-heard before. It froze his soul amid all the agony
-of suspense he himself was bearing. For that human
-load was still upon him, still holding him pinned
-tight in the corner of the now overturned and
-shattered car; how much more might hold him down,
-he could not tell. And with this came his first real
-taste of terror; the thought of imprisonment beneath
-the heavy wreckage—and then the outbreaking
-fire—tore for a moment through his mind.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But already he could feel the forms above his own
-writhing in their effort to rise; one, his thigh
-fractured, gave over with a loud cry of pain. The
-other was trying to lift him as gently as he might.
-Soon both were from above him. The moment that
-followed thrilled with suspense—Harvey almost
-shrank from the attempt to straighten himself up
-lest he might find himself pinned beneath the deadly
-truck. But he tried—and he was free. And he
-could see through the window of the door, upside
-down as it was, the sparkling sunshine, never so
-beautiful before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>With a gasp of joy he bounded towards it—then
-stopped suddenly, checked by the rebuke of what he
-saw about him. For—let it be recorded to the
-praise of human nature and the credit of sorrow's
-ministry—every man who was unhurt seemed
-engaged with those who were. Strong, selfish-looking
-men, utter strangers, men who had sat scowling
-behind their newspapers or frowning because some
-child's boisterousness disturbed them, could now be
-seen bending with tender hands and tenderer words
-above some groaning sufferer, intent only on securing
-the removal of the helpless from the threatened
-wreck.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Not threatened alone, alas! For even as they
-were struggling towards the sweet beguiling light a
-faint puff of smoke floated idly in about them; and
-the first to notice it—not with loud outcry but with
-hushed gasp of terror—was one unhappy man whom
-the most desperate efforts had failed to free from the
-wreckage. But as the car gradually filled with the
-smoke, and as, a little later, a distant crackling could
-be heard, the stifled moan became a cry, and the cry
-at length a shrieking appeal for deliverance from the
-living death that kept ever creeping nearer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"My God," he cried frantically, "you can't leave
-me here—I'll burn to death," his eyes shining with
-a strange unearthly light; "I'll burn to death," he
-repeated in grim simplicity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey never left him till the all-conquering flame
-had all but kindled his own garments; half-blind,
-soaking with perspiration, gasping for breath, he at last
-turned his back upon the awful scene and staggered
-away. The waters of death were now surging about
-the man—if the unfitting metaphor may be allowed.
-As he groped his way towards the brow of the
-up-torn declivity, Harvey stumbled on the silent form
-of the man who had sat beside him in the coach—a
-brakeman was hurrying towards it with a sheet.
-Then dense darkness flowed about, and kind
-unconsciousness delivered him.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>*      *      *      *      *      *</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"You've made as good progress as any man could
-look for," the doctor said; "don't you think so,
-Mr. Nickle? He's been lucky all through, to my
-mind; two broken ribs, and a twisted elbow, was
-getting off pretty well—considering what he came
-through. Another week will do wonders."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's bad eneuch," rejoined the cautious Scotchman;
-"but it micht hae been waur."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, old chap, I guess I'll have to go," the
-doctor said as he began putting on his gloves; "just
-have patience and you'll be all right. What you'll
-feel most will be the result of the shock—don't get
-discouraged if you sag sometimes, and feel as if the
-bottom were falling out of everything. You'll likely
-have queer spells of depression—all that sort of
-thing, you know. 'Twouldn't be a bad idea to take
-a little spirits when you feel one coming on; and
-if a little doesn't help, take a little more," he
-concluded, laughing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Simmons' face was white and drawn; but she
-controlled herself, and no word escaped her lips.
-When the doctor left the room she followed him,
-closing the door behind her. A few minutes later
-he returned:</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I've just been thinking over that matter,
-Harvey," he began carelessly, "and I believe this
-prescription would be a fully better stimulant,"
-producing pencil and pad and beginning to write.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He remarked how Harvey received the advice—the
-latter's lips were pale, and the doctor could see
-them quivering. "Don't fool with the other at all,"
-he added impressively: "I don't believe it would do
-you a bit of good."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Geordie Nickle lingered after the doctor had taken
-his departure; but he found it quite impossible to
-engage Harvey in conversation. "I hae nae doot a'
-this sair experience'll be for some guid purpose," he
-began, the face of the saintly man suffused with the
-goodness of his heart; "only dinna let it be wasted,
-laddie. A wasted sickness is a sair thing, an' a
-wasted sorrow's waur—but there's naethin' sae sad
-as to look intil the face o' death, wi'oot bein' a
-different man to a' eternity. It's a waesome thing when
-a soul snatches spoils frae death—an' then wastes
-them on life, my laddie," earnestness and affection
-mingling in the eyes that were turned on Harvey's
-chair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But Harvey's response was disappointing. "If I
-could only sleep a little better, Mr. Nickle. I'm
-really all right except for my nerves. Yes, what you
-say is very true, Mr. Nickle."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>After one or two equally fruitless attempts, the
-old man seemed to realize the hopelessness of his
-efforts. "Weel," he said pleasantly, "I maun be
-gaein'—yon's the kirk bell that's ringin'. Why, there's
-David," he cried suddenly, looking out of the window;
-"I'll juist gie ye intil Mr. Borland's care. I
-think yir mither said she's gaein' till the kirk—we'll
-gang thegither," as the kindly patriarch made a brief
-farewell, withdrawing to join Mrs. Simmons and guide
-her to the house of prayer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hello, Harvey! Why, you're lookin' like a
-morning-glory," was David's salutation as he drew
-his chair up beside Harvey's. "I jest thought I'd
-drop in an' look you over a bit when Madeline an'
-her mother was at church. Ought to be there myself,
-I know," he went on, a reproachful smile on his face;
-"but it's such an elegant mornin'—an' besides, I'm
-doin' penance. I remembered it's jest two years ago
-to-day, by the day o' the month, since I traded horses
-with Jim Keyes—an' I thought mebbe I shouldn't
-have took any boot—so I thought I'd jest punish
-myself by stayin' away from the meetin' this mornin'.
-How're you keepin', Harvey?" he concluded earnestly,
-his elbows on his knees as he peered into the
-patient's face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not bad," said Harvey—"only a little
-grouchy. Is that really the reason you're not going
-to church this morning, Mr. Borland?" he asked, a
-slight note of impatience in the tone. David might
-have noticed, indeed, that Harvey seemed ill at ease,
-and as if he would as soon have been alone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David stared at him. "That there accident must
-have bumped all the humoursomeness out o' you," he
-said, grinning. "No, of course it's not—but
-Dr. Fletcher ain't goin' to preach to-day. That's the
-real reason. An' he's got a fellow from Bluevale
-rattlin' round in his place; can't stand him at all.
-He's terrible long—an' the hotter, the longer. They
-say he dives terrible deep; an' mebbe he does—but
-he comes up uncommon dry," and David turned a
-very droll smile on his auditor. "The last time I
-heard him, he preached more'n fifty minutes—passed
-some excellent stoppin'-places, too," David reflected
-amiably; "but the worst of it was when he come to
-conclude—it was like tyin' up one o' them ocean
-liners at the dock, so much backin' up an' goin' furrit
-again, an' semi-demi-quaverin' afore he got plumb
-still. That's the principal reason I'm punishin'
-myself like this," he added gravely. "Say, Harvey,
-what's makin' you so kind o' skeery like?—anythin'
-hurtin' you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey cleared his throat nervously. "I say,
-Mr. Borland," he began nervously, "would you do
-something for me?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David, very serious now, drew his chair closer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You bet—if I can. What is it?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey stood up and walked unsteadily towards
-the table. Then he thrust the little paper the doctor
-had left into a book. "I wonder if you'd go to the
-drug-store for me," he began rather huskily, "and
-get me a little—a little spirits—or something like
-that; spirits would be the best thing, I think—the
-doctor spoke of that. I'm just about all in, Mr. Borland—and
-I think if I were only braced up a little—just
-to tide me over, you know," he stammered, his
-courage failing him a little as David's steady eyes
-gazed into his own.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David looked long in silence. Then he rose, and
-without a word he took Harvey in his arms. Slowly
-they tightened round the trembling form, the old
-man holding the young as though he would shelter
-him till some cruel storm were past. Tighter still he
-held him, one hand patting him gently on the shoulder
-as though he were a little child.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey yielded to the embrace—and understood.
-When at length David partially released him, he
-looked into the face before him. The eyes that met
-his own were swimming, and David's face was aglow
-with the yearning and compassion that only great
-souls can know.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Harvey," the shaking voice began, hardly
-above a whisper, "I love you like my own son.
-Don't, Harvey—for God's sake, don't; kill your
-mother some other way," and again he drew the now
-sobbing lad close to his bosom.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later he whispered something in
-Harvey's ear. It was a question—and Harvey
-nodded, his face still hidden.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought so," David murmured. "I thought so—an'
-there's only one way out, my boy, there's only
-one way out. An' it's by fightin'—jest like folks
-fight consumption, only far harder. That ain't
-nothin' to this. Jest by fightin', Harvey—an'
-gettin' some One to help you. All them other
-ways—like pledges, an' promises, an' all that—they're jest
-like irrigatin' a desert with one o' them sprayin'-machines
-for your throat. I ain't much of a Christian,
-I know—but there ain't nothin' any good 'cept what
-Dr. Fletcher calls the grace of God. An' if you think
-it'd help any, from an old fellow like me—I'll—I'll
-try it some, every mornin' an' night; 'twouldn't do
-no harm, anyway," and the protecting arms again
-drew the yielding form into the refuge of his loving
-and believing heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Only a few more sentences passed between the
-two; only a few minutes longer did David wait. But
-when he passed by the church on his homeward way
-his head was bowed, and his face was like to the faces
-of those whose lips are moist with the sacramental
-wine.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-restoring-of-a-soul"><span class="bold large">XX</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE RESTORING OF A SOUL</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"And you think you'll go back to-morrow,
-Harvey? Are you sure you feel strong
-enough, my son? Your voice is weak."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's answer was confident enough. But pale
-he certainly was—and the resolute face showed signs
-of abundant struggle, and a new seriousness sat on the
-well-developed brow. "I think life'll be all different
-to me now, mother," he went on; "a fellow can
-hardly go through what I have, without seeing things
-in a different light. I didn't think so much of it when
-Mr. Nickle said it, but it's been running through my
-mind a lot lately—he said what a terrible thing it is
-for a fellow to snatch spoils from death and then
-waste them on his after life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He's a godly man," the mother rejoined musingly.
-"He's been like a light to me in my darkness—often
-I think my heart would have broken if it
-hadn't been for him. When things looked darkest,
-and he'd drop in for a little talk, I always seemed to
-be able to take up the load and go on again. He
-and Mr. Borland have been good angels to us all,"
-and the sightless face was bright with many a
-gladsome memory.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother, when you speak of darkness—and
-loads—do you mean—do you mean about your
-sight?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His mother reached out, instinctively guided, and
-laid a thin hand on one of Harvey's. "Do I speak
-much about loads, my son, and darkness?" she asked
-in a gentle voice. "For I've always asked for grace
-to say little of such things as those."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But you haven't answered me, mother," the son
-persisted. "Mother," he went on, sitting up straight,
-his voice arresting her startlingly, "you've been more
-to me, I think, than ever mother was to a son before.
-But I know, mother—at least, I think I know—I'm
-almost sure you've never told me all that troubles
-you; I feel sometimes as if there were some sealed
-book I've never been allowed to see. Don't you
-understand, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean, my son? How could it be so?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, mother," he went on, his voice low and
-serious, "look at it this way. You know how easily
-a mother kind of scents out anything like that about
-a son—just by a kind of instinct. Well, don't you
-think sons love mothers just as much as mothers love
-sons?—and don't they have the same kind of
-intuitions? Don't you understand, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She drew him closer to her side. "Yes, my son,"
-she said after a long silence; "yes, I understand, my
-darling. If I understand anything, it's that. And
-I'm going to ask you something, Harvey—you'll
-forgive me, my boy, won't you? But what you've just
-said opens the door for what I'm going to ask. And
-I've wanted to do it ever since you came home."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's heart told him what was coming. The
-very faculty he had been trying to define was
-pursuing its silent quest, he knew. And no movement,
-no exclamation betrayed surprise or resentment
-when his mother whispered her trembling enquiry in
-his ear.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps he had never learned as well the luxury of
-a mother's love. Once or twice he looked up
-wistfully, as though his mother's eyes must be pouring
-their message into his, so full and rich was the tide
-of her outflowing love, strong, compassionate, healing,
-But the curtain still veiled the light of the luminous
-soul behind—and he realized then, as never before,
-that his loss had been almost equal to her own. Yet
-the soulful tones went far to make amends, caressing
-him with tenderness, inspiring him with courage, as
-little by little they drew from him the story of the days.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It all went so well for a long time, mother," he
-said, much having been said before. "Perhaps too
-well. I got the scholarship, as you know—and then
-another—and I was elected one of the inter-collegiate
-debaters. Then I got on the first eleven; perhaps
-that pleased me most of all; and I used to go to the
-other towns and cities often, to play. And I was so
-happy and comfortable at Miss Farringall's—she's
-been so good to me. And I gradually met a lot of
-nice people in the city; and I had quite a little of
-social life—that was how it happened," he said in a
-minor tone, his eyes on the floor.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The mother said nothing, asked nothing. A
-moment later he went on of his own accord. "I don't
-mean to make excuses, mother," he began, "but I
-didn't really deliberately break the promise I gave
-you—and that comforts me a lot. But it was one
-night I was out at a Southern family's home—they had
-just come lately to the city, and Dr. Wallis knew them.
-Well, they had refreshments; and they had a lot of
-queer Southern dishes. One was a little tiny thing—they
-called it a syllabub, or something like that; I
-had never heard of it before. And I took it—it had
-wine in it—and oh, mother," his eye lighting and
-his voice heightening at the memory, "no one will
-ever know—it was like as if something took fire. I
-didn't know what it meant—I seemed so helpless.
-And I fought and I struggled—and I prayed—and I
-wrote out my promise to you and I used to read
-it over and over. And I was beaten, mother—I
-couldn't help it," he cried pitifully, his voice echoing
-every note of pain—"and then I felt everything was
-up and I had nothing more to fight for, and I
-just—oh, I can't tell you; it maddens me when I think of
-it—nobody'll ever know it all. And Miss Farringall
-tried so to help me—so did Dr. Wallis—but I
-wouldn't let anybody. I turned on them," he
-exclaimed fiercely; "and I tried to forget about you,
-mother—I tried to forget about you and Jessie.
-Then I played the coward. I came back afterwards
-to Miss Farringall, and I—I borrowed money from
-her;" he forced the words like one who tells a crime.
-"And after that——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thus ran the piteous tale. The mother spoke no
-word for long, staunching the flowing wound as best
-she could and by such means as only mothers know.
-And she mutely wondered once or twice whether
-this—or that other night—had brought the deeper
-darkness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But when his voice was still; when the poor wild
-wailing that had rung through it all had hushed itself,
-as it were, within the shoreless deep of her great,
-pitying love, she asked him another question:</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How much did you borrow from Miss Farringall,
-Harvey?" the voice as calm as if no storm of grief
-had ever swept it.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Five dollars, mother," he answered, the crimson
-face averted. "But I know one or two things I can
-deny myself this term—and that'll pay it back;" the
-glance that stole towards his mother was the look of
-years agone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Without a word, dignity in every movement,
-she rose and made her way to a little bowl that stood
-on the table. From it she took an envelope, her
-fingers searching it; then she handed him its
-contents, the exact amount.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He broke out in loud protest; but she was firm.
-"You haven't anything there that you can afford to
-give up," she said quietly, "and we can afford this,
-dear—but not the other. Take it for mother's sake,"
-as she thrust the bill into his hand. It was worn
-and faded; but his eyes fell upon it as upon a sacred
-thing, hallowed by the love and sacrifice and courage
-that had wakened many a holy vow in his heart
-before. As they did now again, this latest token
-burning the hand that held it, melting the heart that
-answered its appeal of love.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And the mother's tryst began anew; closer than
-ever she clung to her unseen Helper; more passionately
-than before she turned her waiting eyes towards
-the long tarrying Light.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-heated-debate"><span class="bold large">XXI</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">A HEATED DEBATE</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The years had left Harvey wiser than when
-first he entered college. The passing
-months, each opening the door a little
-wider, had admitted him farther and farther to the
-secrets of the new life about him—farther too, for
-that matter, into the mystery of life itself, the great
-complicated maze of which college life is at once the
-portal and the type.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And as he stood in the main hall of the great
-Gothic building this bright spring morning, a
-reminiscent smile played about his lips as he recalled
-the day, far distant now, whereon he had first
-gazed in wonder on the animated scene. For that
-had been an epoch-marking day in Harvey's life.
-The very stateliness of the surroundings had filled
-him with a subdued awe he had never felt before, and
-his breath had come quicker at the thought that he,
-a humble child of poverty, was really a successor to
-the many great and famous men who had walked
-these halls before him. His gown was faded and
-rusty now, but he could recall the thrill with which
-he had first donned it years ago, the only badge of
-rank he had ever worn. And how fascinated he had
-been by the restless throng of students that buzzed
-about him that opening day, each intent upon his
-own pursuit, and all, or nearly all, indifferent to the
-plain-clad stranger who felt himself the very least
-among them. Some, with serious faces, had hurried
-towards the professors' rooms or gravely consulted
-the time-table already posted in the hall; while others,
-oblivious to the portent of the day, had seemed to hail
-it only as the gateway to a life of gaiety, entering
-at last upon the long-anticipated freedom their earlier
-lives had been denied.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Not a few had moved idly about, turning blank
-faces here and there, all unquickened by the stimulus
-of the atmosphere and the challenge of the hour—dumb
-driftwood in life's onmoving stream. And
-some there had been—on these Harvey's gaze had
-lingered longest—who were evidently there by
-virtue of a heroism not their own, their plainness of
-apparel and soberness of mien attesting the struggle
-that lay behind the opportunity they had no mind to
-waste.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>He was opening a letter from Jessie now, handed
-to him from the morning mail; and the tide of youth
-flowed unnoticed about him as he devoured it, still
-standing on the spacious stair that led upward from
-the main entrance of the college. The smile on his
-face deepened as he read; for the letter was full of
-cheery tidings, all about their every-day toilful life,
-quickened as it had been by the good news concerning
-his progress in his studies. "We're quite sure
-you'll get another scholarship," wrote the hopeful
-Jessie. And then followed the news of the village—much
-regarding Dr. Fletcher and the church, and a
-reference to the hard times that were paralyzing
-business—and a dark hint or two about the struggle
-David Borland was having to pull through; but it
-was rumoured, too, that Geordie Nickle was giving
-him a hand, and doubtless he would outride the
-storm. And Cecil had been home two or three
-times lately, the letter went on to say—and he and
-Madeline had been seen a good deal together, and
-everybody knew how anxious Mrs. Borland was that
-it should come to something—but everybody
-wondered, too, what was coming of Cecil's work in the
-meantime; these things the now unsmiling Harvey
-read towards the close of the letter. And the last
-page or so was all about their mother, her sight
-giving as yet no sign of improvement, and her general
-health causing Jessie no little alarm. But they were
-hoping for the best and were looking forward with
-great eagerness to Harvey's return when the college
-year should be ended.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey was still standing with the letter in his
-hand when a voice broke in on his meditations.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, old sport, you look as if you'd just heard
-from your sweetheart," as Harvey looked quickly
-up. It was Cecil himself, and he stopped before his
-fellow student as if inclined to talk. For much of
-the antagonism between the two had been dissolved
-since both had come to college, Cecil being forced
-to recognize a foeman worthy of his steel when they
-had met on an arena where birth and patrimony go
-for nothing. A few casual meetings had led to
-relations of at least an amicable sort; once or twice,
-indeed, he had sought Harvey's aid in one or two
-branches of study in which his townsman was much
-more capable than himself. But such occasions were
-obviously almost at an end. For the most
-uninitiated might have diagnosed Cecil's case as he
-stood that spring morning before the one he had so
-long affected to despise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A false ideal of life, and of what constitutes life's
-enjoyment, and a nature pampered from childhood
-into easy self-indulgence, together with strong native
-passions and ample means wherewith to foster them,
-had made their handiwork so plain that he who ran
-might read. The face that now was turned on
-Harvey was stained and spotted with marks significant
-of much, the complexion mottled and sallow, the
-eye muddy and restless, the voice unnaturally harsh
-and with the old-time ring departed—such a voice
-as years sometimes give. Real solicitude marked
-Harvey's gaze as it rested on the youth before him;
-something of a sense of kinship, because of old-time
-associations—in spite of all that had occurred to mar
-it—and a feeling that in some indefinable way the
-part of protector was laid upon him, mingled with
-his thoughts as he noted the symptoms of the
-ill-spent years.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"From your very own, isn't it?" Cecil bantered
-again, looking towards the letter in Harvey's
-hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're right enough; that's exactly where it
-came from," the other answered, smiling.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I was just thinking about you," Cecil went on;
-"I've kind of chucked classes for this session—going
-to study up in the summer and take the 'sup's' in
-the fall. I've been too busy to work much here," he
-explained with a grimace—"but that's not what I
-wanted to speak to you about; some of the fellows
-asked me to bring you round to a little meeting we're
-going to have this evening—seven to eight o'clock—we're
-going to the theatre after it's over. It's
-something kind of new; Randolph got on to it
-down in Boston, and they say it's fairly sweeping the
-country. I believe myself it's the nearest thing to
-the truth, in the religious line, anybody's discovered yet."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" Harvey asked interestedly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, it's a kind of religious meeting, as I said,"
-Cecil informed him—"only it's new—at least it's
-new here; it's a kind of theosophy, you know—and
-many of the strongest minds in the world believe in
-it," he added confidently. "That's why we want
-you to sample it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey waited a little before answering. "I've
-heard a bit about it," he said at length; "I've read
-about it some—and I'd advise you to leave that sort
-of thing alone, Craig."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're not fair," the other retorted; "you've
-never heard it expounded, have you, now?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey admitted that he had never had that privilege.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I want you to come to-night," urged Cecil;
-"come and give it a trial anyhow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A little further parley ended in Harvey's consenting
-to attend the gathering of the faithful, not, however,
-without much candid prediction of the issue.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Seven o'clock found him there. The believers,
-some thirteen or fourteen in all, were already assembled,
-and Harvey's scrutiny of the different faces was
-swift and eager. Some few he recognized as those of
-earnest students, men of industry and intelligence.
-Others, the light of eager expectation on them as
-though the mystery of life were at last to be laid bare,
-belonged to men of rather shallow intellect,
-novelty-mongers, quick to yield to a seductive phrase or a
-plausible theory, men with just enough enterprise of
-soul to put out from shore, yet not enough to take
-their bearings or to find a pathway in the deep
-beyond. And two or three, conspicuous amongst whom
-was Cecil, were evidently hospitable to any theory,
-however fanciful, that would becalm the inward storm
-of their own making, and promise healing to secret
-wounds of shame, and absolve from penalties already
-pressing for fulfillment. Not intellectual unrest,
-but moral ferment, had been the tide wherewith
-they had drifted from the moorings they were now
-endeavouring to forget and professing to despise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The little room was fairly full and Harvey was
-seated on a small table in the corner. The
-proceedings were opened by a solemn-visaged youth who
-evidently felt the responsibility of his office. For he
-paused long, looking both around him and above,
-before he proceeded to read some ponderous passages
-from a book, evidently their ritual.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Much of this was punctuated by ejaculatory
-eulogies of one, Lao-tsze. Harvey had never heard
-this name before, but the expounder pronounced it
-frequently in terms of decided reverence; and he was
-at great pains to convey to his hearers his
-dependence upon this man of unpronounceable name
-as the fountain-head of inspiration and guidance.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The solemn disquisition ended, several others
-added their testimony to the light and comfort this
-teaching had afforded them, one or two venturing
-further to expound some doctrines which all seemed
-to find precious in proportion as they were obscure.
-Such phrases as "explication of the Divine Essence,"
-"deduction of the phenomenal universe," "unity
-imminent in the whole," were freely dispensed, the
-listening faces answering with the light of intelligence,
-the light most resolutely produced where the shades
-were deepest. "Paracelsus" was a name several
-hastened to pronounce, and familiarly, as though he
-were an old-time friend. One very small student
-with a very bespotted face broke his long silence by
-rising to solemnly declare that since he had been
-following the new light he had come to the conclusion
-that God was the great "terminus ad quem," taking
-a moment longer to express his surprise and
-disappointment that all men did not so discern the truth in
-its simplicity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Another rose to deplore that so little was known
-of the life of the great and good Lao-tsze, but
-comforted his hearers with the assurance that this distant
-dignitary had been reincarnate in a certain American
-poet, whose name he mentioned, well known as a
-wandering printer whose naked lucubrations were
-given at intervals to a startled world. This later
-apostle then received his share of eulogy, after which
-the ardent neophyte quoted copiously from his works,
-scattering the leaves of grass among the listening
-circle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Exhausted, the speaker surrendered the floor to
-another, who launched into a glorification of the
-great Chinaman—and his successor—amounting to a
-deification. To all of which Harvey listened in
-respectful weariness, for he knew something of one of
-them at least, and of his works. Suddenly the
-devotee introduced the great name of Jesus Christ; for
-purposes of comparison alone did he quote the latter
-name, conceding to the founder of the Christian faith
-a place among the good and great, but making no
-attempt to conceal the deeper homage he accorded to
-the other.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This was too much for the visitor, who could
-hardly believe his ears. Indifference had gradually
-taken the form of contempt, this in turn deepening to
-disgust as he listened to what at first struck him as
-shallow platitude, descending later to what he esteemed as
-blasphemous vulgarity. Deeper than he knew was his
-faith in the One his mother had taught his childish
-lips to bless; and, as there rose before him a vision of
-the humble life that same faith had so enriched and
-strengthened, of the heavenly light that had gilded
-her darksome path, of the sweetness and patience
-that this light and faith had so wonderfully wrought,
-his soul rose up in a kind of lofty wrath that overbore
-all considerations which might have sealed his lips.
-Moreover, a casual glance at his watch informed him
-that it was exactly half-past seven—and the covenant
-he had scarcely ever forgotten at that hour was
-secretly and silently fulfilled.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Rising during a momentary silence, he was received
-with a murmur of subdued applause. But the
-appreciation of the circle was short-lived.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did I understand the last speaker to say," he
-asked in a low, intense voice, "that he puts that man
-he quoted from—that American poet—alongside of,
-or ahead of, Jesus Christ?—as a moral character, I
-mean, and as a teacher of men?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The youth thus addressed made some evasive reply,
-not, however, revising his classification in the least.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then listen here," exclaimed Harvey as he
-reached for the volume of poems lying on the table.
-"I'll read you something more from your master." Hastily
-turning the leaves, he found the passage he
-was in search of after some little difficulty, and began
-slowly to read the words, their malodour befouling the
-atmosphere as they came.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>One of the faithful rose to his feet with a loud
-exclamation of protest. But Harvey overbore him.
-"If he's all you say he is, you can't reasonably
-object," he declared; "I'm not reading anything but
-what he wrote," still releasing the stainful stream.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey flung the book on the table as he finished.
-"The gutter's the place for that thing," he blurted out
-contemptuously; "that's where it came from—a
-reprobate that deserted his own children, children of
-shame though they were, and gave himself to kindling
-the lowest passions of humanity—these be your
-gods, oh Israel," he went on scornfully. "I'll crave
-permission to retire now, if that's the best you've got
-to help a fellow that finds the battle hard enough
-already—I'll hold to the old faith till I get some better
-substitute than this," moving towards the door as he
-spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The leader almost angrily challenged him. "Perhaps
-our friend will tell us what he knows about 'the
-old faith,' as he calls it, and why he clings to it so
-devotedly—it's not often we get a chance to hear from
-a real Christian," he added jeeringly, "and it's a poor
-cause that won't stand argument."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A chorus of voices approved the suggestion. "If
-you've got one good solid intellectual argument for
-it, let us hear it," one student cried defiantly.
-"We've had these believers on general principles with
-us before."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey turned, his hand already on the door, his
-face white and drawn. "Yes," he cried hotly, "I'll
-give you one reason—just one—for the faith that's in
-me. I don't profess to be much of a Christian—but
-I know one reason that goes for more with me than
-all the mouthings I've heard here to-night. It's worth
-a mountain of such stuff."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let's have it, then," the leader said, moving closer
-to where Harvey stood. "Give us your overwhelming
-argument."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey cast a haughty glance at him and those
-behind him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I will," he thundered; "it's my mother, by God,"
-he cried passionately, the hot blood surging through
-his brain—"do you hear that—it's my mother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was a brief hush, for they must be reprobate
-indeed who would not recognize that sovereign plea.
-But one intrepid spirit soon broke the silence; a
-young stalwart of nineteen or twenty, towering among
-the rest, was quickly to the fore with his verdict.
-"Just what I expected," he drawled derisively; "the
-old story of a mother's influence; you forget, my dear
-fellow," turning towards Harvey as he spoke, "how
-credulous the woman-heart is by nature—and how
-easily they imagine anything they really want to
-believe. Besides, we haven't the advantage of knowing
-your saintly relative," he added, something very like
-a sneer in the voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He was evidently bent on developing his idea, but
-the words had hardly left his lips before Harvey had
-brushed aside those who stood between as he flung
-himself towards the speaker. His eyes were aflame,
-and his burning cheek and flashing eye told how deep
-the taunt had struck. He did not stop till his face
-was squarely opposite the other's, his lips as tense as
-though they would never speak again.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Gemmell," he said, calling the man by name, "I
-don't know whether you mean to insult me or not—but
-I'll find out. You don't know anything about
-my mother—and she's not to be made the subject of
-discussion here. But I know her; and I know the
-miracle her dark life's been. And if you say that
-that's all been just her imagination, and her credulity,
-then I say you're a liar and a cad—and if you want
-to continue this argument outside, by heavens, here's
-the door—and here's the invitation, —— you," as he
-smote the astonished debater full in the face. Parrying
-the return blow, his lips white and livid, he turned
-to lead the way outside. His fuming antagonist
-made as if to follow him; but two or three, springing
-between the men, undertook the part of peacemakers.
-Perhaps Cecil's efforts were as influential as any.
-"Let the thing drop, Gemmell," he counselled his
-friend in a subdued voice; "I know him of old—and
-he's the very devil in a fight."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Whatever the cause, the fact remains that when
-Harvey paused a minute or two outside the door he
-found himself joined by none but Craig himself.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come on," said the latter, "what's the use of
-making fools of ourselves over religion? Come on,
-and we'll go to the theatre. I told you we intended
-going there after anyhow—but I doubt if the others
-will be going now; so we'll just go ourselves. There
-won't be anything very fine to hear, perhaps—but
-there'll be something real interesting to look at," with
-a laugh that his companion could hardly fail to
-understand. But Harvey was thinking very little of
-what his guide was saying, his mind sufficiently
-employed with the incident just concluded, and he
-hardly realized whither he was being led till he found
-himself before the box-office in the lobby. A
-rubicund face within was the background for a colossal
-cigar that protruded half-way through the wicket;
-Cecil was enquiring from the source of the cigar as to
-the price of tickets.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Rallying, Harvey made his protest and turned to
-go away. "I've got to work to-night," he said; "it's
-too near exams."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Craig laughed. "Don't get nervous," he retorted
-significantly. "I'll pay the shot—it's only half a
-dollar each."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Whereat Harvey, the pride of youth high within
-him, strode back to the window, almost pushing his
-companion from him as he deposited his money and
-pressed on into the crowded gallery.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Not more than half an hour had passed when the
-spectacular side, as Cecil had so confidently predicted,
-grew more and more pronounced.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I told you," he whispered excitedly to Harvey;
-"look at that one in the blue gauze skirt," leaning
-forward in ardent interest as he spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's answer was given a few minutes later
-when, without a word to the enchanted Cecil, he rose
-and quietly slipped towards the door and downward
-to the street. "Money with blood on it, too," he
-half muttered hotly to himself as he passed the office
-that had received the hard-won coin.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Hurrying towards home, he suddenly noticed a
-heavy dray backed up against the window of an
-office; evidently the moving was being done by
-night, that the day's work might not be interrupted.
-Pausing a moment to watch, the stormy face brightened
-a little as he stepped up to the man in charge
-of the waggon. There were only two, which made
-Harvey more hopeful of his scheme.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Want any help?" he asked abruptly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're right we do," the man answered promptly.
-"Another of our men was to be here to-night, but
-he hasn't turned up—I'll bet a five he's in the gods
-over there," nodding towards the festive resort that
-Harvey had deserted.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How long will it take?" enquired the student.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The man reflected a moment. "Oh, I guess about
-two hours," he surmised; "that is, to get the things
-out and then get them hoisted in at Richmond Street."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How much'll you give me if I help you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll give you forty cents—and you'll have a free
-ride," said the man jocosely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Make it fifty," proposed Harvey. "I owe half
-a dollar—I'll do it for fifty cents."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," replied the teamster, whereat Harvey
-flung the coat from his back and the burden from his
-conscience. And the face which Miss Farringall
-was now coming to await so eagerly was very bright
-when he got home that night, her own beaming as
-she marked its light.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="breakers-ahead"><span class="bold large">XXII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">BREAKERS AHEAD</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>There is a peace, deep and mysterious,
-which only the defeated know. It is
-familiar to those who, struggling long to
-avert a crisis, find that their strivings must be all in
-vain. The student long in doubt; the politician
-weary of his battle; the business man fighting against
-bankruptcy—all these have marvelled at the strange
-composure that is born when the last hope of victory
-is dead. Many an accountant and confidential clerk,
-contriving through haunted years to defer the
-discovery which must some day lay bare his shame, has
-felt this mysterious calm when destiny has at last
-received him to her iron bosom. And who has not
-observed the same in some life struggling against
-weakness and disease?—when the final verdict is
-announced and Death already beckons, the first wild
-tumult of alarm and anguish will presently be hushed
-into a silent and majestic peace.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David Borland's kindly eyes had less of merriment
-than in the earlier years. The old explosive spark
-was there indeed, unconquerable still; but the years
-had endowed the face with a gentle seriousness, not
-visible before, which yet became it rather better than
-the merriment it had unconsciously displaced. And
-there were signs that other enemies than the passing
-years had wrought their havoc on the mobile face.
-For care and conflict, hope of victory to-day and fear
-of overthrow to-morrow, had wrought such changes
-as the years could not effect.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Yet there was more of peace in the serious eyes than
-there had been of yore. Madeline was beside him
-as he sat this morning by the window, gazing long
-in silence at the handiwork of spring without. Soft
-wavy clouds floated in the sky, pressing serenely on
-their way as if there were no such things as tumult
-and pain and disappointment in the world beneath
-them; the air was vocal with many a songster's
-jubilation that his exile was past and gone; the
-bursting trees and new-born flowers and tender grass
-all joined the silent anthem that acclaims the
-regeneration of the year—and David thought they had
-never seemed so beautiful.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There isn't nothin' can take that away from us,
-Madeline," he said at last, obviously as much to
-himself as to the girl beside him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What, father?" she enquired softly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, lots o' things—all the real things, that is.
-All that's lovely; all I'm lookin' at now—nobody
-can't take them away, the trees, an' the flowers, an'
-the birds. No matter how poor we get, they're some
-o' the things thieves can't break through an' steal, as
-the Scriptur' says," he mused, gazing far over the
-meadow at the orchard in its bridal robes, and
-beyond them both to the distant grandeur of the sky.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will we really have to give up very much,
-father?" the girl ventured, unconsciously turning as
-she spoke and permitting her eyes to rove a moment
-about the richly furnished home.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David was silent quite a while. His face seemed
-wrung with a pain he could not control, and his
-hands went out gently towards the girl's head.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let it down, daughter," he said quietly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What, father? Let what down?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I like it better the old way, dear," he said in
-answer, already releasing the wealth of lovely hair;
-"let it fall over your shoulders the way it used to do,
-Madeline," as the flowing tresses, but little darkened
-by the darkening years, scattered themselves as in
-other days. "Now sit here, Madeline—come. No,
-you're not heavy, child; I've got kind o' used to
-carryin' loads these days—an' this always seems to
-make 'em lighter," as she nestled in his arms.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Another long silence followed, broken at last by
-David's brave, trembling voice. "This is the hardest
-part o' the whole business, Madeline," he said resolutely.
-"But I just found out the worst this mornin' —an'
-I ain't goin' to keep nothin' back. I've failed,
-daughter; I've failed—leastways, I've failed in
-business. I don't think I've failed no other way, thank
-God," he added in firmer tone, but still struggling
-with his words. "There won't be no stain, Madeline,"
-his lips touching the flowing strands as he
-spoke; "but things got awful tight—an' I made one
-last terrible effort—an' it failed; it failed, Madeline."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The girl's arm was about his neck. "I knew
-there wouldn't be any stain," she murmured as her
-face was bended downward to his own; "not with
-my father—and it won't stop us being happy, will
-it?" she added hopefully, looking into the care-worn
-eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, dear, no," responded David—"only there's
-just one thing troubles me the most. It's about
-Geordie Nickle. He bought a lot o' the stock; I
-felt at the time he done it just to help me—an' I
-didn't ask him—an' I kind o' hoped it'd all come
-out all right. But it didn't, Madeline—an' Geordie's
-lost an awful lot. I don't know if he has more
-left—but I'm hopin' so. There ain't no better man in
-the world than him. One of the things that's always
-kept me believin' in God, is—is just Geordie Nickle.
-Men like him does more to keep faith livin' than all
-the colleges an' all the professors in the world; he's
-a beautiful argument for religion, is Geordie
-Nickle—he kind o' proves God, just the same as one
-sunbeam proves the sun," David concluded, his eyes
-still fixed on other credentials in the silent glory that
-wrapped earth and sky.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was some time before Madeline spoke again.
-"Poor old father," she said gently; "what you must
-have suffered all these long months—more than
-mother and I ever thought of."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's been years, child," the father answered softly;
-"lots o' times I thought I couldn't stand it no
-longer—but it came awful easy at the last," he suddenly
-exclaimed. "It was a kind of a relief when I knew the
-worst—real funny, how calm I took it. It's a little
-like some women I seen once at an afternoon
-five-o'clock at-home," he went on dryly, a droll smile
-stealing over his face; "they was eatin' them little
-rough cakes they call macaronies—an' I was watchin'
-two or three of the nobbiest of 'em. Well, they
-nibbled an' nibbled so dainty, like a mouse at a hunk o'
-cheese—an' then, when they thought nobody wasn't
-lookin', they just stuck the whole thing in an'
-swallowed it like a bullfrog does a fly, an' then passed
-their cup as calm as you please for another helpin' o'
-tea. That's a good deal the way I took my medicine
-when I got the last dose of it—had a kind of a
-feelin' of relief. Didn't you never notice how easy
-an' quiet a stream runs when it's past the waterfall?
-Shouldn't wonder if this feelin' I've got's somethin'
-the same as the way some fellows enjoys gettin' a
-tooth yanked after they've been holdin' hot salt to it
-every night for a month," and David heaved a reminiscent
-sigh as the memory of his own sleepless nights
-drifted before him for a moment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Very low, much of it inarticulate, some of it
-altogether silent, was the language with which Madeline
-sought to comfort the weary and wounded heart,
-little knowing how successful she was; the father held
-her closer and closer to him; and the swiftly slipping
-treasures around them, that must soon be sacrificed,
-seemed more and more insignificant as the preciousness
-of love's possessions grew more real and more dear.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know, Madeline, they tell me I won't be
-worth nothin' when everythin's sold—an' I only hope
-there'll be enough for everybody—they tell me I
-won't be worth nothin'—but I never felt richer than I
-do this minute," the words coming from lips half
-hidden among the golden hair. "They can all go to
-thunder about their assets, so long's I've got this
-one—Bradstreet's an awful liar about how much a
-man's worth," he added almost gleefully, holding
-Madeline's soft hand to his furrowed cheek.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And I never loved you so much as I do right
-now," the girl responded, employing his own words,
-her hand wandering among the gray. "Only I'm so
-sorry for mother—she was so fond of all the things.
-Where do you suppose we'll live, father?" she
-asked him timidly after a pause.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Borland made no reply for a little, his eyes
-fixed upon a lane of sunbeams that came dancing
-through the window.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't exactly say, Madeline," he began slowly.
-"Only I reckon it'll be a little place, wherever it
-is—but them's often the kind that has the most
-room," he went on reflectively; "I'm sure there'll
-be room for everybody we love, an' every one that
-loves us. I often think how it was the One that
-hadn't no place to lay His head that offered everybody
-else a place to rest in," he mused reverently;
-"an' I think it ought to be a little that way with folks,
-no matter how poor they get."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Before his words were ended Madeline had slipped
-from his arms; looking up, David could just see her
-disappearing as she hurried up the stairs. Half in
-sorrow, half in jubilance, he was still holding
-communion with his thoughts when she returned, the
-dancing sunbeams falling athwart her face as she
-resumed the place she had deserted.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've got something to tell you, father," she began
-excitedly, drawing a tiny paper book from its envelope.
-"It's just a little surprise—but I'm so glad I'm
-able to do it. No, father, you mustn't refuse," she
-protested as she saw him beginning to speak, his eyes
-remarking what she held in her hand. "I saved this
-all myself, father; I began over two years ago—it's
-nearly three hundred dollars," she declared jubilantly
-after a fitting pause, "and I was going to get something
-with it—something special, something wonderful—it
-doesn't matter now what it was—besides, I wanted
-you to see how saving I could be. But now I want
-you to take it all, father," the eager face, so unfamiliar
-with financial magnitudes, radiant with loving
-expectation, "and pay those awful creditors. Won't
-that help, father?—won't it help?" she cried again,
-not knowing what to make of the expression on her
-father's face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David Borland's hands shook as he took the little
-pass-book. His head was bowed over it and the
-silence lasted till a hot blur fell upon it, a message
-from afar.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he murmured huskily. "Yes, thank God,
-it helps; more than any man can tell till he's got a
-broken heart like mine," he said passionately, the
-long stifled tide of grief and care bursting forth at
-last. "It more than helps—it heals," he murmured
-iow again, holding the pass-book close over his
-brimming eyes. "Who's that?" he suddenly digressed
-sharply, the deathlike stillness broken by a knock at
-the door. "Who's got to go an' come now of all
-times?" as he released the wondering girl, already
-moving forward to answer the summons.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, come in," David heard her cry delightedly
-a moment later, his own face brightening as
-he recognized the voice. Instinctively he rose as if
-to rush across the room and bid welcome to the
-visitor; yet something seemed to check the impulse as
-he sank back in his chair, an expression of deepening
-pain on the tired face. But the resolve formed strong
-within him again and the voice rang like a trumpet.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, Mr. Nickle," it cried, echoing Madeline's,
-"come in, an' welcome. I see by your face
-you know it all—an' I knew you wouldn't be long o'
-comin'. Sit down—here, alongside o' me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A man shall be as a refuge from the storm; so runs
-the ancient message that has shed its music on
-multitudes of troubled hearts. And how wonderfully
-true! How mysterious the shelter that one life
-affords another, if only that life be strong and true;
-gifted it need not be, nor cultured, nor nimble with
-tender words nor skilled in caressing ways—for these
-are separate powers and sparingly distributed. But
-let the life be true, simple and sincere and brave, and
-its very existence is a hiding-place; no word may be
-spoken, or aim achieved, or device employed, but yet
-the very being of a strong and earnest man remains
-the noblest pavilion for the defeated and the sad.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>How oftentimes the peace of surrender is deepened
-by an experience of friendship such as comes only to
-the vanquished! And friendship's sweetest voice is
-heard by the despairing heart. Thus it was with
-David Borland as his friend sat beside him, so grave
-and tender, his very look betokening that he knew
-all about the long, bitter conflict, as he obviously
-knew the disaster that had marked its close. He sat
-long in comparative silence, only a word at intervals
-to show that he was following David's story.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"An' I feel worse over that than all the rest,"
-David said at length, "to think you lost by me.
-But I'll see yet that no man will lose a cent by me,
-if I'm spared long enough—there's a heap o' work
-in these old bones yet," he went on bravely, "if
-only——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And what about me, father?—what about me?"
-Madeline broke in, drawing near with half
-outstretched hands; "I'm going to work too—there
-isn't any one in this house as strong as I am," she
-affirmed, her glowing face and flashing eyes
-indicating the sincerity of her words.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David Borland almost groaned as he took the
-extended hands. "Oh, child, they're so soft, they're
-so soft and tender. And you'll never do a day's
-work while your old dad can work for you," he said
-tenderly, gazing into the deep passion of her eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't I though? I'll show you, father," she
-cried in sweet defiance. "Do you think I'm nothing
-but an ornament, a useless ornament?" she asked
-reproachfully. "Why can't a woman bear her part
-in the battle just as well as men?—I'm going to do
-it, anyhow. I know how to do lots of things; I can
-teach, or sew, or do woodwork—or I can learn
-stenography—it doesn't matter which; only we'll
-fight it out together, father, you and me—and
-mother," she added dutifully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David's eyes were swimming with loving admiration.
-Once or twice he tried to utter what he felt,
-but the words seemed to choke before they reached
-his lips. Finally he found the very ones he wanted.
-"Madeline, you're a thoroughbred," was all he said;
-but the girl knew the greatness of the eulogy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David turned again to his visitor. "Please don't
-think I'm buttin' in where I've no business—but I
-can't keep from wonderin' if—if—if this has took
-everythin'," he said in much embarrassment. "That's
-been kind of hauntin' me for months."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The old man smiled. "I dinna feel it maitters
-muckle aboot mysel'," he answered slowly. "I'll hae
-what I'll be needin' till I gang till my rest, I'm
-thinkin'," he went on quietly; "an' ony way, I gaed
-intill't wi' my eyes open—but I thocht it was for the
-best. There's juist ae maitter that's giein' me mair
-trouble than anither."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's that?" David asked abruptly; "I'll bet
-all I haven't got it's not yourself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Weel, ye're richt—it's no mysel'," Geordie answered;
-"I could thole it better if it was. It's the
-laddie—it's Harvey, ye ken. You an' me'll no' be
-able to help him ony mair—an' the laddie was daein'
-fine at the college; an' I'm dootin' it'll be a sair blow
-on his puir mither to tak' him awa. Does she ken?"
-he asked, slowly raising his head towards David.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think so," said his friend; "but I suppose
-she'll have to be told sooner or later."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Hoo lang will it be till the laddie's through?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He gets his degree the next graduating class,"
-volunteered Madeline, her face showing the keenness
-of her interest. "It's not so very, very long," she
-added wistfully, looking as unconcerned as possible.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then the old man began in the quietest and most
-natural way to tell David and Madeline all about his
-circumstances, the simple story touched with the
-pathos of an utterly unselfish heart. For his chief
-concern was evidently not for himself at all—he
-would have enough with strict economy to keep a roof
-still above his head—but his grief for Harvey's
-interrupted career was sincere and deep. He recognized
-fully, and admitted frankly, that it would take what
-little was left him to supply the humblest necessities
-of his remaining years. But this seemed to give
-him little or no disquietude; his thoughts were
-divided between Harvey and his mother, and he seemed
-troubled as to how the latter should be apprised of
-the cloud that had brought this additional darkness
-to her life.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She'll no' learn it frae the lips o' gossip, if I can
-help it," he said resolutely at last, his staff coming
-down with emphasis on the floor.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Go easy on that Turkey rug, Mr. Nickle," David
-interrupted with valorous merriment; "it belongs to
-my creditors now, you know."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Geordie permitted himself to abandon his line of
-thought long enough to say: "Ye dinna mean to
-tell me, David, that ye'll hae to part wi' a' yir bonnie
-bit things aboot the hoose?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David never flinched as he looked straight into
-the sober eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"All that's of any value," he answered resolutely;
-"no stolen plumage for me—I've no desire for it,
-thank God," he added cheerily. "I don't want
-nothin' but a few little necessaries—an' a couple o'
-luxuries, such as this here," drawing Madeline within
-his arm as he spoke; "it's great how the law can't
-get at a fellow's real treasures. Just what I was
-sayin' to you a few minutes ago, Madeline—the
-things that counts the most is the things that's left, no
-matter how poor a fellow gets."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Geordie's eyes were shining with delight; such
-philosophy as this touched the inmost heart of him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ye're richt, David, ye're richt," he cried fervently.
-"Man, but it's bonnie to see ye takin' the chastenin'
-o' th' Almichty like ye dae. I was sair feart for ye,
-when I found oot what was gaein' to happen. But
-ye've got the richt o't, David, ye've got the richt o't,"
-the old man went on earnestly; "it's a sair loss, nae
-doot—but it canna rob ye o' what ye love the most.
-An' I'll tell ye anither thing, David," he pursued, his
-voice the prophet voice, "it canna rob ye o' the
-providence o' God—it canna change the purpose o' His
-will for ye," and Geordie's outstretched hand, not
-often or lightly so extended, took David's in its
-own. "But aboot Harvey's mither," he suddenly
-resumed, recalling the thread that had been broken;
-"she'll no' hear what's happened frae the lips o'
-gossip. I'll tell her mysel'," he affirmed, the resolution
-forming swiftly; "an' I'll dae it when I'm gaein' hame
-frae here," proceeding forthwith to button up his coat
-preparatory to departure.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll go with you," David said quietly. "There's
-no reason why I shouldn't. I've a lot to regret, but
-nothin' to be ashamed of—nothin' to be ashamed of,
-as I said afore. Where's your mother, Madeline?—I
-want to see her afore I go."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's up-stairs," Madeline answered in rather a
-subdued tone. "I think she's looking over some things."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David sighed as he rose and turned towards the
-stair. Reaching the room above, he found his wife
-gazing upon the rich contents of several receptacles
-whose treasures were outturned upon the floor. He
-sat down beside her on the bed, making rather a
-plaintive attempt to comfort the heart whose sorrow
-he knew was different from his own.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going to keep everything of Madeline's I can,"
-she said, after some preliminary conversation. "Poor
-child, she was looking forward so to her coming-out
-party—but I guess that's all a thing of the past now,"
-she sighed. "And everybody said you were going
-to be elected the town's first mayor, too. I was
-counting so much on that—but of course they won't
-do it now. But do you know, David, there's one bit
-of consolation left to us—and that's about Madeline.
-I think, I think, David, she'll be provided for, all
-right, before very long," smiling significantly as she
-made the prediction.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How?" David asked, quite dumfoundered, yet
-not without a kind of chill sensation in the region of
-his heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, the old way," responded his wife; "the old,
-old way, David. I've seen signs of it, I think—at
-least I've seen signs that some one else wouldn't mind
-taking care of her, some one that would be able to give
-her quite as much as we ever did," she concluded, a
-note of decided optimism in the voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David sat up straight and gasped. "Surely," he
-began in a hoarse voice, "surely you ain't talkin'
-about—about matrimony, are you, mother?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Madeline's mother smiled assentingly. "That's
-the old, old way, David—I guess that's what it'll end
-in, if things go on all right. Don't look so stormy,
-David—I should think you'd be glad."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Glad!" cried David, his voice rising like a wind.
-"Good Lord, glad—glad, if a fellow's goin' to lose
-everything an' then be left alone," he half wailed;
-"you expect a fellow to be glad if he gets news that
-he might have to part with the dearest thing he's
-got?" he went on boisterously. "But I'm makin' a
-goat o' myself," chastening his tone as he continued;
-"there ain't no such thing goin' to happen. Who
-in thunder do you imagine wants our Madeline?—I'd
-like to see the cuss that'd——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But, David," his wife interrupted rather eagerly,
-"wait till I tell you who it is—or perhaps you
-know—it's Cecil; and I'm quite sure he'd be ever so
-attentive, if Madeline would only permit it. And I don't
-suppose any young gentleman of our acquaintance
-has the prospects Cecil has."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David's face wore a strange expression; half of
-pity it seemed to be and half of fiery wrath. "That's
-so, mother," he said in quite a changed voice; "if
-all reports is true there ain't many with prospects
-like his—he'll get what's comin' to him, I reckon.
-But there's one thing I'm goin' to tell you, mother,"
-and the woman started at the changed tone of the
-words, so significant in its sternness, "an' I'll jest tell
-it to you now—an' it's this. Mebbe we'll have to
-beg our bread afore we're through—but Cecil ain't
-never goin' to have our Madeline—not if me an' God
-can help it," whereat he turned and went almost
-noiselessly from the room, his white lips locked in
-silence. And Madeline wondered why his eyes
-rested so yearningly on her when he returned, filled
-with such hungering tenderness as though he were
-to see her never more.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="ingenuity-of-love"><span class="bold large">XXIII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">INGENUITY OF LOVE</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Neither Geordie nor David spoke a word
-as they went down the steps and passed
-slowly along the avenue that led from the
-gate to the house. But just as they opened the gate
-David turned and took a long wistful survey of the
-scene behind.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It'll be quite a twist to leave it all," he said,
-trying to smile. "I've got so kind o' used to it—there's
-a terrible pile o' difference between </span><em class="italics">bein'</em><span> poor an'
-</span><em class="italics">gettin'</em><span> poor," he added reflectively.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But ye'd hae to gang awa an' leave it, suner or
-later," Geordie suggested; "it comes to us a'—an' it's
-only a wee bit earlier at the maist."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's dead true," assented David; "sometimes
-I think th' Almighty sends things like this to get us
-broke in for the other—a kind of rehearsal for
-eternity," he concluded, quite solemnly for him. "Look
-there, Mr. Nickle," he suddenly digressed, pointing
-towards the house, "d'ye see that upper left-hand
-window, with the light shinin' on it, an' the curtain
-blowin' out?—well, that's where Madeline was born.
-It's kind o' hard," he said, so softly that Geordie
-scarcely heard.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But ye hae the lassie wi' ye yet—the licht's aye
-shinin' frae her bonnie face," Geordie replied
-consolingly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor child, she's had to scrape up most o' the
-sunshine for our home herself this last while,"
-responded David, "but it ain't goin' to be that way
-after this—when things is dark, that's the time
-for faces to be bright, ain't it?—even if a fellow does
-lose all he's got. Do you know, Mr. Nickle," he
-went on very earnestly, "I've a kind of a feelin' a
-man should be ashamed of himself, if all his money's
-done for him is to make him miserable when it's gone.
-I mean this," turning and smiling curiously towards
-Geordie, "if a fellow's had lots o' money, an' all the
-elegant things it gets him, it ought to kind o' fit him
-for doin' without it. I don't believe you catch my
-meanin'—but money, an' advantages, ought to do
-that much for the man that's had 'em, to learn him
-how to do without 'em if he has to—it ought to dig
-wells in him somewhere that won't dry up when his
-money takes the wings o' the mornin' an' flies away,
-as the Scriptur' says."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yon's graun' doctrine, David," Geordie assented
-eagerly; "forbye, there's' anither thing it ought to
-dae for a man—it should let him ken hoo easy thae
-man-made streams dry up, an' what sair things they
-are to minister till the soul. An' they should make
-him seek the livin' water, so he'll thirst nae mair
-forever. I seem to ken that better mysel' than I've ever
-done afore."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mebbe that's part o' the plan," David made reply;
-"'cause how a fellow takes a thing like this here
-that's happened me, depends 'most altogether on jest
-one thing—an' I'll tell you what it is—whether he
-takes it good or bad depends on whether he believes
-there's any plan in the business at all. I mean some
-One else's plan, of course. There's a terrible heap o'
-comfort in jest believin' there's a plan. When things
-was all fine sailin' with me, I always held to the plan
-idea—always kep' pratin' about the web a higher
-hand was weavin' for us all—an' I ain't agoin' to go
-back on it now," he added with unwonted vehemence.
-"No, sir, I never believed more in God's weavin' than
-I do this minute. 'Tain't jest the way I'd like it
-wove—but then we don't see only the one side," he
-added resignedly. "D'ye know, Mr. Nickle, we're
-terrible queer critters, ain't we? It really is one of
-the comicalest things about us, that we don't believe
-th' Almighty's plan for us is as good as our own plan
-for ourselves. Funny too, ain't it, now?" he pursued,
-"an' the amusin' part o' the whole business is this,
-how the folks that's most religious often kicks the
-hardest when they ain't allowed to do their share o'
-the weavin'," he concluded, looking earnestly into his
-friend's face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Geordie's reply found expression more by his
-eyes than by word of mouth. But both were
-interrupted by their journey's end, for by this time
-they had arrived at the little store. Entering and
-enquiring for Mrs. Simmons, they were conducted
-by Jessie into the unpretentious sitting-room where
-Harvey's mother was seated in the solitary
-armchair that adorned the room, her hands busy with
-the knitting that gave employment to the passing
-hours.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Grave and kindly were the salutations of her
-visitors, equally sincere and dignified the greetings in
-return. After some irrelevant conversation, David
-introduced the purpose of their visit with the tact that
-never fails a kindly heart, bidding his friend tell the
-rest; and the half-knitted stocking fell idle on her
-lap as the silent listener composed herself bravely to
-hear the tidings that something assured her would be
-far from welcome.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Once or twice she checked a rising sigh, and once
-or twice she nervously resumed the knitting that had
-been given over; but no other sign bespoke the
-sorrow and disappointment that possessed her. If any
-wave of pain passed over the gentle face, it found no
-outlet in the sightless eyes. Geordie kept nothing
-back; the whole story of their present situation—and
-of their consequent helplessness to further aid
-her scholar son—was faithfully rehearsed. And the
-very tone of his voice bore witness to the sincerity of
-his statement that the whole calamity had no more
-painful feature than the one it was their mission now
-to tell.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm content," she said quietly when Mr. Nickle
-had concluded. "I'll not deny that the hope of—of
-what's evidently not to be—has made the days bright
-for me ever since Harvey went away," she went on,
-as if her life had never known darkness; "but he's
-had a good start, and he can never lose what he's got
-already—and maybe the way'll be opened up yet;
-it's never been quite closed on us," she added
-reverently, "though it often looked dark enough. The
-promise to the poor and the needy never seems
-to fail. And I'm sure Harvey'll find something to
-do—and oh," she broke in more eagerly than before,
-"I know the very first thing he'd want me to do is to
-thank you both for your great kindness, your wonderful
-kindness to us all," she concluded, both hands
-going out in the darkness to hold for a moment the
-hands of her benefactors.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The conversation was not much longer continued,
-both Geordie and David retreating before the brave
-and trustful resignation as they never would have
-done before lamentation or repining. And after
-they had gone Jessie and her mother sat long
-together in earnest consultation; for the one was as
-resolved as the other that something must be done
-to avert the impending disaster.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just to think, mother, he'd be a B.A. if he could
-only finish with his class," said Jessie; "and then, then
-he could be nearly any thing he liked, after that. If only
-business were a little better in the shop," she sighed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But it's losing, Jessie," the mother replied, forcing
-the candid declaration. "I can tell that myself—often
-I count how many times the bell above the
-door rings in a day; and it's growing less, I've noticed
-that for a year now. It's all because Glenallen's
-growing so fast, too—that's the worst of it; what
-helps others seems to hurt us."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie understood, the anomaly having been often
-discussed before; it had been discussed, too, in the
-more pretentious shops, though in a far different frame
-of mind. "We've got along so well this far—we've
-got almost used to doing without things," she said
-with a plaintive smile, "and it seems such a pity to
-have to stop when the goal's in sight."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If I were only stronger," mused the mother;
-"but I'm not," she added quietly, the pale face
-turning towards Jessie's—"your mother's not gaining
-any; you can see that, can't you, dear?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie's protest was swift and passionate. "You
-mustn't talk that way," she cried appealingly;
-"you've spoken like that once or twice—and I won't
-hear of it," the voice quivering in its intensity.
-"You're going to get well—I'm almost sure you will.
-And there's nothing more I'd let you do," her eyes
-glowing with the ardour of her purpose, "if you were
-as well and strong as ever in your life."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Simmons smiled, but the smile was full of sadness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Have it as you will, my child," she said, "but
-there's no use shutting our eyes to the truth—it's for
-your own sake I spoke of it, Jessie. When you
-write to Harvey, do you tell him I'm gaining, dear?"
-a smile on the patient face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie was silent a moment. "Don't, mother
-don't," she pleaded. "Let's talk about what we'll
-do for Harvey. Oh, mother," the arms going about
-the fragile form in a passion of devotion, "it seems
-as if your troubles would never end; it's been one
-long round of care and struggle and pain for you
-ever since I can remember. And this last seems the
-worst, for I know how you've lived for Harvey. And
-it shan't all be for nothing; we'll get through with it
-somehow—I know we will."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You shouldn't pity me so, my daughter," and the
-mother's voice was as calm as the untroubled face.
-"I really don't think you know how much happiness
-I've had; I often feel there's nothing so close to joy
-as sorrow. And you and Harvey have been so good—and
-I'm so proud of him. The way's always been
-opened up for us; and God has strengthened me, and
-comforted me, beyond what I ever thought was possible.
-And besides, dear," the voice low and thrilling
-with the words that were to come, "besides, Jessie,
-I've had a wonderful feeling lately that it's getting
-near the light—it's like a long tunnel, but I've caught
-glimpses of beauty sometimes that tell me the long
-darkness is nearly over. Oh, my darling," she went
-on in the same thrilling voice, holding her close in a
-kind of rapture, "I never was so sure before—not
-even when I could see all around—never so sure—that
-it's all light after all, and my very darkness has
-been the light of God. I don't know why I should
-cry like this," she sobbed, for the tears were now
-falling fast, "for I'm really happy—even with all this
-new trouble; but for days and days lately I've kept
-saying to myself: 'They need no candle, neither
-light of the sun'—and I can't think of it without
-crying, because I know it's true."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Very skillfully did Jessie endeavour to turn the
-conversation into other channels; her own sinking heart
-told her too well that her inmost thought was not far
-different from her mother's. For the dear face was
-daily growing more pale and thin, and the springs of
-vitality seemed to be slowly ebbing. But on this she
-would not permit her mind to dwell.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you think we could get some bright girl to
-mind the shop, mother; some young girl, you know,
-that wouldn't cost very much? Because I've just
-been thinking—I've got a kind of a plan—I've been
-wondering if I couldn't make enough to help Harvey
-through. You know, mother, I can sew pretty
-well—Miss Adair told me only yesterday I managed
-quite as well as the girls with a regular training, and
-she just as much as offered me work. And I'll see
-her about it this very day; we could get some one to
-mind the shop for a great deal less than I could
-make—and Harvey could have the rest. You wouldn't
-object, would you, mother? I wouldn't go out to sew;
-some of the girls take the work home with them,
-and so could I. Or, if I was doing piece-work, I
-might be able to mind the store myself at the same
-time—there seems to be so little to do now," she
-added, looking a little ruefully towards the silent
-shop.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The expression of pain deepened on the mother's
-face as she listened. Yet she did not demur,
-although the inner vision brought the tired features of
-the unselfish girl before her. "It seems hard," she
-said at length; "I was always hoping you'd soon
-have it a little easier—but this will only make it
-harder for you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But not for long," Jessie interrupted cheerily;
-"just till Harvey's through—and then he'll be able
-to make lots of money. And maybe you and I'll be
-able to go away somewhere for a little rest," she
-added hopefully, her eyes resting long on the pallid
-face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Harvey must never know," the mother suddenly
-affirmed; "we'll have to keep it from him, whatever
-happens, for I know he wouldn't consent to it for a
-moment. Where are you going, Jessie?" for she
-knew, her sense of every movement quickened by
-long exercise, that the girl was making preparations
-to go out.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going to see Miss Adair, mother. I won't
-be long—but now that my mind's set on it, I can't
-rest till I find out. If I can only get that arranged,
-it'll make it so much brighter for us all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The mother sat alone with many conflicting
-thoughts, marvelling at all that so enriched her life,
-dark though it was, and bearing about with it a
-burden that no heart could share.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie's errand was successful, as such errands are
-prone to be; and only those who understand life's
-hidden streams could have interpreted the radiance
-on the maiden's face as she returned to announce her
-indenture unto toil, new gladness springing from new
-sacrifice, for such is the mysterious source whose
-waters God hath bidden to be blessed.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>David was absorbed in a very sober study as he
-walked slowly homeward. Not that he shrank from
-the personal sacrifice that his present circumstances
-were about to demand, or that any sense of dishonour
-clouded his thought of the business career that seemed
-about to close—from this he was absolutely free.
-But he was feeling, and for the first time, how keen
-the sting of defeat can be to a man whose long and
-valiant struggle against relentless odds has at last
-proved unavailing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Still reflecting on this and many other things, he
-suddenly heard himself accosted by a familiar voice;
-turning round, he saw Mr. Craig hurrying towards him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Going home, Borland?" said the former as he
-came up with him; "I'll just walk along with you if
-you are—I want to talk to you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David's mind lost no time in its calculation as to
-what the subject of this conversation would likely
-be; during all his period of struggle, well known and
-widely discussed as it had been, Mr. Craig had never
-approached him before. David felt an unconscious
-stiffening of the lip, he scarce knew why.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wanted to tell you, Borland, for one thing,"
-Mr. Craig began as they walked along, "how much
-I feel for you in the hard luck you're having."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you kindly," said David promptly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't suppose I'm just able to sympathize as
-well as lots of men could," Mr. Craig observed;
-"unbroken success doesn't fit one for that sort of thing."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" said David, volumes in the tone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said the other, not by any means oblivious
-to the intonation, "I suppose it does sound kind of
-egotistical—but I guess it's true just the same. I
-suppose I'm what might be called a successful man."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I reckon you might be </span><em class="italics">called</em><span> that, all right," said
-David, getting out his knife and glancing critically at a
-willow just ahead. The spirit of whittling invariably
-arose within him when his emotions were aroused.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?" Mr. Craig enquired, a
-little ardently. He had noticed David's emphasis on
-one particular word.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mean nothin'," responded David, making
-a willow branch his own.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You seem to doubt a little whether I've really
-been successful or not?" ventured the other,
-looking interrogatively at his companion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Depends," said David laconically; "you've been
-terrible successful outside."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't just follow you," Mr. Craig declared with
-deliberate calmness. "I don't suppose we judge
-people by the inside of them—at least I don't."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I do," answered David nonchalantly. "A fellow
-can't help it—look at this here gad; it looked
-elegant from the outside," holding it up to show the
-wound his knife had made.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter with it?" Mr. Craig rejoined,
-pretending to look closely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's rotten," said David.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean by that?" Mr. Craig
-demanded rather more sharply.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mean nothin'," responded David.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then it hasn't anything to do with the question
-of success?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's an awful big question," David answered
-adroitly, "an' folks'll get a terrible jolt in their
-opinions about it some day, I reckon—like the rich
-fool got; an' he thought he was some pun'kins, too.
-Nobody can't tell jest who's a success," he went on,
-peeling the willow as he spoke. "I reckon folks
-calls me the holiest failure in these parts—but I'm a
-terrible success some ways," he went on calmly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What ways?" Mr. Craig enquired rather too
-quickly for courtesy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, nothin' much—only under the bark—if it's
-anywheres," David jerked out, still vigorously
-employed on the willow. "But there ain't no good of
-pursuin' them kind of thoughts," he suddenly
-digressed, making a final slash at the now denuded
-branch; "they're too high-class for a fellow that
-never went to school after he left it—let's talk about
-somethin' worldly. They say you're goin' to be
-Glenallen's first mayor; goin' to open the ball—ain't
-that so?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Abating his pace, Mr. Craig drew closer to David,
-a pleased expression displacing the rather decided
-frown that had been gathering.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"To tell the truth, now that you've mentioned it,"
-he began confidentially, "that's the very thing I
-wanted to talk about. Of course, there's no use in
-my pretending I don't want the office, for I do—the
-whole thing is in being the </span><em class="italics">first</em><span> mayor, you see, after
-Glenallen's incorporated. Kind of an historical event,
-you understand—and, and there seems to be a little
-misunderstanding," he went on a trifle hesitatingly,
-"between you and me. I find there's a tendency
-to—to elect you—that is, in some quarters," he
-explained, "and I thought we might come to a kind of
-an agreement, you understand."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What kind?" David asked innocently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, well, you understand. Of course, I know you
-wouldn't care for the office—not at present, at least.
-I've felt perfectly free to say as much whenever the
-matter was mentioned to me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're terrible cheerful about resignin' for other
-people," rejoined David with some spirit; "some
-folks is terrible handy at makin' free with other folks'
-affairs."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, well, you know what I mean—you've got
-your hands full——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"They're not terrible full," David corrected dismally.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And besides, you see," Mr. Craig went bravely
-on, "you're not British born—you were born in
-Ohio, weren't you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not much," David informed him; "there's no
-Buckeye about me—I was born in Abe Lincoln's
-State. Peoria's where I dawned—and he often used
-to stop at my father's house when he was attendin'
-court." David was evidently ready to be delivered
-of much further information, but the candidate had
-no mind to hear it.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, anyhow," he interrupted, "I think it'd be
-more fitting that the first mayor should have been
-born under the British flag. But you don't mean to
-say you think you'll stand?" he suddenly enquired,
-evidently determined to ascertain the facts without
-further parley.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Couldn't jest say," David replied with rather
-provoking deliberation; "you see, I'll have a good deal
-o' time lyin' round loose, now that I'm givin' up
-business for my health," this with a mournful grin.
-"So mebbe I'll be in the hands o' my friends—that
-there expression's one I made up myself," he added,
-turning a broad smile upon his friend's very sober face.
-Mr. Craig, to tell the exact truth, grew quite pale
-as he heard the ominous words. For his heart had
-been sorely set on the immortality the first
-mayorship of Glenallen would confer, and he knew how
-doubtful would be the issue of a contest between
-David and himself.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I was thinking," he began a little excitedly,
-"perhaps we could make some arrangement that
-would be—would be to our mutual advantage," he
-blurted out at last; "perhaps—perhaps I could give
-you a little lift; I could hardly expect you to
-withdraw for nothing. And now that you're in financial
-difficulties, so to speak, I thought perhaps a little
-quiet assistance mightn't go amiss."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But David had come to a dead standstill, his eyes
-flashing as they fastened themselves on the other's
-face. "D'ye mean to say you're tryin' to bribe
-me?" he demanded, his voice husky.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, Mr. Borland—oh, no, I only meant we
-might find common ground if——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Common ground! Common scoundrelism!"
-David broke in vehemently; "you must think I'm
-devilish poor, Mr. Craig," his voice rising with his
-emotion, "an' it appears to me a man has to be sunk
-mighty low afore he could propose what you've
-done. I've bore a heap, God knows—but no man
-never dared insult me like this afore; if that's one o'
-the things you've got to do if you're pure British
-stock, then I thank the Lord I'm a mongrel."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Be calm, Mr. Borland," implored his friend
-suavely, "you don't understand."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I understand all right," shouted David; "a man
-don't need much breedin' of any kind to understand
-the likes o' you—you want a man that's lost all he's
-got, to sell himself into the bargain," the withered
-cheek burning hot as David made his arraignment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Mr. Borland, do be reasonable—I mean
-nothing of the sort. I only wanted to give you a
-helping hand—of course, if you can do without
-it——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, thank God," and David's voice was quite
-shaky, "I can do without it all right. I can do
-without your dirty money—-an' everybody else's for that
-matter—but I can't do without a conscience that
-ain't got no blot on it, an' I can't do without a clean
-name like my father left it to me," he went hotly
-on, his flushed face and swift-swallowing throat
-attesting how deeply he felt what he was saying.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, come now, Borland," Mr. Craig urged, reaching
-out a hand towards his shoulder, "come off your
-high horse—preachin' isn't your strong point, you
-know."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I ain't preachin'," David retorted vigorously.
-"I'm practisin'—an' that's a horse of a different
-colour," he added, casting about to recall the
-amiability that had almost vanished.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There's no need for any trouble between us,
-Borland," Mr. Craig began blandly; "'twouldn't be
-seemly, considering all that's liable to happen—if
-things go on as they're likely to," he added
-significantly. "We'll need to be on the best of terms if
-we're going to be relations, you know."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's that you're sayin'?—relations, did you
-say?" David was quite at a loss to understand, and
-yet a dim fear, suggested not so long before, passed
-for a moment through his mind.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, relations," returned Mr. Craig, smiling
-amiably; "these young folks have a way of making
-people relations without consulting them—at least,
-till they've gone and settled it themselves. I guess
-you understand all right."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A hot flush flowed over David's cheek. "Do you—do
-you mean my Madeline?" he stammered, staring
-like one who did not see.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, maybe—but I mean my Cecil just as much.
-All this won't make any difference to Cecil."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What won't?" David groped, the words coming
-as if unguided, his thoughts gone on another mission.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, these little difficulties of yours—all this
-financial tangle, I mean; your failure, as they call it
-round town. That'll never budge Cecil."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The men were still standing, neither thinking of
-direction or of progress. But David moved close
-up to the other, his eyes fixed on the shrewd face
-with relentless sternness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It don't need to make no difference," he said
-through set teeth. "There ain't nothin' to get
-different—if you mean your son, Craig—or if you mean
-my daughter, Craig," the words prancing out like a
-succession of mettled steeds; "either you or him's
-the biggest fool God ever let loose. There ain't no
-human power, nor no other kind, can jine them two
-together. Perhaps I'll have to go beggin'—but I'll
-take Madeline along with me afore she'll ever go
-down the pike with any one like your Cecil, as you
-call him." David paused for breath.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She'd be mighty lucky if she got him," Cecil's
-father retorted haughtily. "One would think you
-were the richest man in the county to hear you
-talk."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David's face was closer than ever. "Craig," he
-said, his voice low and taut, "there's mebbe some
-that's good enough for Madeline—I ain't a-sayin'—but
-th' Almighty never made no man yet that my
-daughter'd be lucky if she got. An' I know I'm
-poor; an' I know I've got to take to the tall timbers
-out o' there—where she was born," the words coming
-with a little gulp as he pointed in the direction of his
-home, "but I'm a richer man, Craig, than you ever
-knew how to be. An' you can go back to your
-big house, an' I'm goin' to hunt a little one for
-us—but I wouldn't trade you if every pebble on your
-carriage drive was gold. An' I'm happier'n you
-ever knew how to be. An' your Cecil can't never
-have our Madeline. An' when it comes to budgin',
-like you was talkin' about, I reckon I can do my
-share of not budgin', Craig—an' you can put that in
-your pipe an' smoke it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David started to move on; he was panting just a
-little. But Mr. Craig stopped him; and the sneer in
-his words was quite noticeable:</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose you'll be giving her to your charity
-student—she'll be head clerk in the Simmons' store
-yet, I shouldn't wonder."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David was not difficult to detain. He stared hard
-for a moment before speaking. "Mebbe they're
-poor," he said at length, "an' mebbe his blind mother
-has to skimp an' save—that settles any one for you
-all right. But it wouldn't take me no longer to
-decide between that there charity student an' your son,
-than it would to decide—to decide between you an'
-God," he concluded hotly, turning and starting
-resolutely on his way. "Now you know my ideas about
-success," he flung over his shoulder as he pressed on;
-"you're a success, you know, a terrible success—I'm
-a failure, thank heaven," his face set steadfastly
-towards home, bright with the hallowed light that,
-thought of his treasure there kept burning through
-all life's storm and darkness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But Mr. Craig fired the last shot. "I wish you
-luck with the coming-out party," he called after him
-mockingly; "be sure and have it worthy of the
-young lady—and of her father's fortune," he added,
-the tone indicating what satisfaction the thrust
-afforded him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David answered never a word. But the taunt
-set him pondering, nevertheless; once or twice he
-stopped almost still, though his pace was brisk, and
-something in his face reflected the purpose forming
-within him. When he reached his home he found
-Madeline and her mother together; they were still
-employed with the sombre task of selecting what
-should be the survivors among their domestic treasures.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How did Mrs. Simmons take it?" Madeline
-asked almost impatiently, as he drew her down in
-the chair beside him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She took it like as if she believed in God,"
-David answered solemnly; "an' she took it that way
-'cause she does—that's more," he added emphatically.
-"But I've got somethin' to say—somethin'
-important."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Both waited eagerly to hear. "Tell me quick,"
-said Madeline.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, it's this. I don't want nothin' touched
-here—not till after what I'm goin' to tell you. We'll
-have to waltz out o' here, of course," he said, looking
-gravely around the room; "but it'll be some
-considerable time yet—an' as long as we're here, we'll be
-here, see? An' we're goin' to have your comin'-out
-party, Madeline—we're goin' to have it the last night.
-So it'll be a comin'-out party, an' a goin'-out one, at
-the same time—ain't that an elegant idea? An' it'll
-be a dandy, too—there'll be high jinks till nobody
-can't see anybody else for dust. An' we're goin' to
-have things jest like they are now—no use o' kickin'
-down your scaffold till you're through with it," he
-concluded, chucking Madeline under the chin in his
-jubilation.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Madeline and her mother gasped a little as they
-exchanged glances. Mrs. Borland was the first to
-speak. "Don't you think it'll throw a gloom over
-everything, David, when everybody'll know
-what—what's going to happen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If anybody begins that kind o' throwin', I'll throw
-them out sideways," David replied fiercely. "Most
-certainly it won't. Everybody'd always be slingin'
-gloom round, if that'd do it—'cause nobody ever
-knows what's goin' to happen any time. Leastways,
-nobody only One—an' He ain't never gloomy, for
-all He knows. Anyhow, nothin' ain't goin' to
-happen—'cept to the furniture," he added scornfully,
-glancing at the doomed articles that stood about.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"One good thing," Madeline suggested radiantly,
-"there'll be nothing to hide—everybody'll know
-they're expected to be jolly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure thing!" echoed David, utterly delighted.
-"I'm goin' to have that on the invitations—there
-ain't goin' to be no 'Answer P.D.Q.' on the
-left-hand corner; I'm goin' to have somethin' else—I'm
-goin' to have what that cove on the tavern sheds
-yelled through the megaphone: 'If you can't laugh
-don't come.' I often told you about him, didn't I?—well,
-that's the prescription's goin' to be on the
-admission tickets."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Considerable further dialogue was terminated by a
-very serious question from the prospective débutante.
-"Won't it look kind of strange, father?" she ventured
-rather timidly, "going to all that expense—just at
-this particular time?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David put his arms about her very tenderly, smiling
-down into the sober face. "There ain't goin' to be
-no champagne, Madeline," he said quietly, "nor no
-American beauties—there'll jest be one of heaven's
-choicest. It'll be an awful simple party—an' awful
-sweet. An' music don't cost nothin'; neither does
-love, nor friends, nor welcomes—the best things is
-the cheapest. An' I'll show them all one thing," he
-went on very gravely, his eyes filling as they were
-bended on his child, "one thing that ain't expensive—but
-awful dear," the words faltering as they left his lips.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-victor-s-spoils"><span class="bold large">XXIV</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE VICTOR'S SPOILS</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Of course you ought to go. I've got a kind
-of feeling, though I don't know why, that
-the whole party will be spoiled if you're
-not there."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Spoiled! Spoiled for whom?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, for somebody—I guess you know all right."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was Miss Farringall who was pressing her advice
-so vigorously; Harvey the beneficiary. They were
-seated in the little room in which they had first met,
-everything in the same perfect order, the fire still
-singing its song of unconquerable cheer, the antique
-desk in the corner still guarding its hidden secrets.
-The domestic Grey, the added dignity of years upon
-him, had come to regard the one-time intruder with
-almost the same affection that he lavished on his
-mistress in his own devoted, purring way. He was
-slumbering now on Harvey's knee, and, could he
-have interpreted the significance of human glances,
-he might have seen the fondness with which the
-woman's eyes were often turned upon the manly
-face beside her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If I thought Miss Borland really wanted me to
-come," mused Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Maybe Miss Borland doesn't care very much,"
-his friend retorted quickly, "but I'm sure Madeline
-wants you," her eyebrows lifted reproachfully as she
-spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey smiled in return. "Of course, it would
-give me a chance to see mother," he said reflectively;
-"and Jessie says she's very poorly. Perhaps I really
-ought to go—Jessie's quite anxious about her."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think both reasons are good ones," Miss
-Farringall said after a little silence. "Do you know,
-Harvey," she went on, a shade almost of sadness
-coming over her face, "I feel more and more that
-there's only one thing in life worth gaining—and one
-should never trifle with it. If you lose that, you lose
-everything—no matter how much else you may have
-of money, or luxury—even of friends," she said
-decisively; "even of friends—if you miss that other."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey, slightly at a loss, fumbled about for
-something to say. "You have everything that money
-can provide, Miss Farringall—and that's a good
-deal," he added, magnifying the lonely asset as best
-he could.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, perhaps I have—and maybe it is," she said
-as if to herself. Then neither spoke for a long
-interval. But finally Miss Farringall turned towards
-Harvey with a peculiar expression, as if she had just
-come to a decision after much inward debate.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you like to hear something I've never
-told any one else?" she said impressively—"not
-even to the rector. He has a second wife," she
-explained, smiling, "and they're always dangerous."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If you wish to trust me with it," was Harvey's
-answer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I will—and you'll tell me whether I did
-right or not. It's not a long story, and I'll tell it as
-directly as I can. It's about a man—a gentleman,"
-she corrected. "No, I never loved him—doesn't this
-language sound strange from me?" as she noticed
-the surprise on Harvey's face. "But it was—it was
-different with him. He was a married man, too.
-And his wife was very rich—richer than he was.
-And she hated him—they lived in the same house,
-but that was all; a proud, selfish woman; so selfish,
-she was."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Farringall rose and moved to the window,
-gazing long on the leafy scene about her. The
-silence was broken suddenly by the butler's voice,
-his approach as noiseless as ever.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Please, Miss Farringall, the rector's here—he's in
-the hall. And he wants to know——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell him he can't," Miss Farringall said softly,
-without turning her eyes from the window.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," as the impassive countenance vanished.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey did not speak, did not even look towards
-the silent figure at the window. He knew, and
-waited. Presently the woman turned and silently
-resumed her chair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It was different with him, as I said," she slowly
-began again—"not that I ever encouraged him; it
-terrified me when I found it out. Well, one day when we
-were alone together, he—he forgot himself," a slight
-tremor of the gentle form and a deep flush upon the
-cheek betokening the vividness of the memory.
-"And I fled from him—and I vowed we should
-never meet again," the sad face lighting up with the
-echo of a far-off purpose. "And I kept the vow for
-years," she went on, gazing into the fire—for there it
-is that the dead years, embalmed of mystic forces, may
-be seen by sorrow-brightened eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey waited again, silent still. And once again
-the strange narrative was resumed. "But I broke it
-at last," she said. "He was dying—a slow, painful
-disease. And he had everything money could give
-him; he had everything that anybody wants—except
-that one thing. His wife went on in her old, idle,
-fashionable way, caring nothing, of course. Well,
-one day he sent for me—it was his wife who brought
-the message; she knew nothing of what had happened,
-of course, and she told me of his request and
-asked me if I wouldn't come and sit with him
-sometimes. And I went—I went often—used to read to
-him; many different books at first, mostly poetry—but
-as it came nearer the end it was hardly ever
-anything but the Bible.... The end came at last.
-And just the day before he died he said to me: 'It'll
-be to-morrow—to-morrow about this time.' Then
-he took a big envelope from under his pillow, and he
-said: 'This'll be good-bye; God bless you for what
-you've been to a dying man. And I want you to do
-this. I want you to come to my grave a year from
-the night of the day I'm buried—and open this
-envelope there—but not for a year.' And we said
-good-bye. Well, I couldn't refuse the request of a dying
-man—I did as he asked me. But I waited a year
-and four days, Harvey," and Miss Farringall's voice
-was quite triumphant; "I waited that long because I
-knew no man would believe a woman could do it....
-And that's how I'm situated as I am, Harvey.
-I don't think anybody ever knew—I guess nobody
-cared; principally stocks, simply transferred. Do
-you think I did right, Harvey?" she asked after a
-pause.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Harvey quickly, unable to take his
-eyes from her face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not that the envelope ever did me very much
-good," she went on. "I often think how much happier
-I'd have been if I'd been poor—and had had that
-other. But it wasn't to be. And all this never made
-me happy—there was only one could have done
-that; and he went out of my life long ago—long ago
-now," she said, her gaze scanning his face in wistful
-scrutiny, her heart busy with the photograph
-entombed in the silent desk before her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So I think you certainly ought to go, as I said,"
-she resumed, quietly reverting to the original topic.
-"I know the signs," she added in plaintive
-playfulness—"even if they do call me an old maid; I
-shouldn't wonder if they know the signs best of
-all. But this is all nonsense," straightening herself
-resolutely in her chair, "and has nothing to do
-with what we're talking about. When is the party,
-Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's Friday night week—the very day after I
-graduate. And they leave the old home the next
-day—I told you all about Mr. Borland's failure. It
-seems they've been prepared to leave for some
-months—and now it's actually come. Mr. Borland
-gave up everything to his creditors, I believe. And
-this is a notion of his own—just like him, too—that
-they'll celebrate the last night in their old home this
-way; he's going to have Madeline's coming-out
-party for a finish. Quite an original idea, isn't it?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will that young fellow from your town be
-there?—Mr. Craig, you know?" asked Miss Farringall,
-without answering his question. She did not look
-at Harvey as she asked her own.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," Harvey answered, "he'll be there, of
-course—he's very attentive." Harvey's eyes were
-also turned away.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's he attentive to?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, to Miss Borland—to Madeline, of course.
-He's been that for a long time."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you sure?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. At least, I suppose so. Why?" Harvey
-asked wonderingly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, nothing much—only I heard his affections
-were divided; another Glenallen girl, I heard."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What was the name?" asked Harvey, interestedly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I did hear, I think—it doesn't matter. Please
-don't ask me any more—really, I'm ashamed of myself,
-I'm getting to be such a silly old gossip. Tell
-me, are you going to get the medal when you
-graduate?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The look on the face before her showed that the
-conversation had turned his thoughts towards
-something more absorbing than college premiums,
-covetable though they be; he too was coming to realize
-that life has only one great prize, and but one deep
-source of springing joy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I have my doubts about the medal," Harvey answered
-after a pause; "I'm afraid of Echlin—but I'll
-give him a race for it. I think I'm sure of my
-degree, all right. That's another reason inclines me to
-go home next week," he added cheerfully; "I want
-to give my sheepskin to my mother; it's more hers
-and Jessie's than it is mine—and I want them to see
-my hood, too, when I get one; and the medal," his
-face brightening, "if I should have the luck to win
-it. But there's another thing that troubles me a
-little," he added with a dolorous smile, "and that is
-that I haven't got anything to wear, as the ladies
-say. I haven't a dress suit, you know—and I'm
-afraid anything else'll be a little conspicuous there."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Farringall smiled the sweetest, saddest smile,
-as she turned her face to Harvey's. "Oh, child," she
-said, "you're very young; and you're certainly very
-unfamiliar with the woman-heart. A girl doesn't
-care a fig for dress suits—I think they rather
-admire men who dress originally," she went on
-assuringly; "I know I did, then. And besides, it's all to
-your credit that you haven't one—I think that's one
-of the fine things about you, that you haven't got so
-many things you might have had, if you'd been a
-little more selfish," she said, almost fondly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Talk about not being selfish," Harvey broke in
-ardently; "I'm a monster of selfishness compared to
-some others I could name—you ought to see my
-mother and my sister," he concluded proudly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope I may some day," she answered. "But
-meantime—about what you'll wear. I'd wear the
-medal if I were you. But tell me first," she went
-on in a woman's own persistent way, "that you'll
-accept the invitation. Can't you make up your mind?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey was silent for a moment. "No," came his
-answer decisively, "I don't think I will. I'm going
-to decline with thanks—self-denial's good for a fellow
-sometimes."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Some kinds of self-denial are sinful," said Miss
-Farringall quietly; "but they bring their own
-punishment—and it lasts for years." She sighed, and
-the light upon her face was half of yearning, half of
-love.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Is our Tam hame frae Edinburgh yet?" Such
-were the last wandering words of an aged brother of
-the great Carlyle, dying one summer night as the
-Canadian sun shed its glory for the last time upon
-his face. Thrice twenty years had flown since,
-fraternal pride high surging in his heart, he had clung
-to his mother's skirts while she waited at the bend of
-the road for the returning Tom. Carrying his shoes,
-lest they be needlessly worn, was that laddie wont to
-come from the halls of learning where he had scanned
-the page of knowledge with a burning heart—carrying
-his shoes, but with his laurels thick upon
-him, his advent the golden incident to that humble
-home in all their uneventful year. And in death's
-magic hour the thrilling scene was reënacted as the
-brother heart of the far-wandered one roamed back
-to the halcyon days of boyhood.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The same spirit of pride, the same devotion of
-love, brooded over the happy circle as Harvey sat
-this placid evening between his mother and sister in
-the home that had furnished him so little of luxury,
-so much of welcome and of love. He was home,
-and he was theirs. Trembling joy mingled with the
-mother's voice as now and then she broke in with
-kindly speech upon the story Harvey found himself
-telling again and again. The story was of his career
-in general, and of the last great struggle in particular;
-how he had shut himself up to his work in a final
-spasm of devotion, pausing only to eat and sleep till
-the final trials were over and the victory won. And
-the great day, his graduation day, was described over
-and over, both listeners in a transport of excitement
-while he told, modestly as he might, of the ovation
-that had greeted him when he was called forward to
-receive his hard-won honours.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And you're a B.A., Harvey, now—a real B.A.,
-aren't you, Harvey?" Jessie cried ecstatically. "It
-seems almost too good to be true."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey merely smiled; but his mother spoke for
-him. "Of course he is," she answered quietly; "it'll
-be on all his letters. But the medal, Harvey—oh,
-my son, I always knew you'd win it," her voice low
-and triumphant. "I can hardly just believe it; out
-of all those students—with their parents so rich and
-everything—that my own son carried it off from them
-all. And has it your name on it, Harvey?—with the
-degree on it too?" she enquired eagerly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course," said Harvey, "it's in my trunk—and
-my hood's there too; they're both there, mother. It's
-a beautiful hood—and I'll show them to you if
-you'll wait a moment," he exclaimed impulsively,
-rising as he spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But his eyes met Jessie's and a darkness like
-the darkness of death fell upon them both. Jessie
-was trembling from head to foot, her hand going
-up instinctively to her face as if she had been
-struck. Harvey's pale cheek and quivering lips
-betrayed the agony that wrung him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Forgive me, mother," his broken voice implored
-as he flung himself down beside her, his arms
-encircling her; "forgive me, my mother—I forgot, oh,
-I forgot," as he stroked the patient face with infinite
-gentleness, his hands caressing the delicate cheeks
-again and again.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He didn't mean it, mother—he didn't mean it,"
-Jessie cried, drawing near to them; "he just forgot,
-mother—he just forgot," the words throbbing with
-love for both.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But the mother's voice was untouched by pain.
-"Don't grieve like that, my darling," she pleaded,
-pressing Harvey's hands close to her cheek; "I know
-it was nothing, my son—I know just how it
-happened. And why will you mourn so for me, my
-children?" she went on in calm and tender tones,
-her arms encircling both. "Surely I've given you
-no reason for this—haven't I often told you how
-bright it is about me? And something makes me
-sure it's getting near the light. Don't you remember,
-dear, how the doctor said it might all come
-suddenly?—and I feel it's coming, coming fast; I feel
-sure God's leading me near the light."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you, mother?" Harvey asked. The question
-came simply, earnestly, almost awesomely.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, dear; yes, I'm sure."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We always asked for that. Harvey and I have,
-every day—haven't we, Harvey?" Jessie broke in
-eagerly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey nodded, his gaze still on his mother's face.
-For the light that sat upon it in noble calm entranced
-him. No words could have spoken more plainly of
-the far-off source that kindled it; and a dim, holy
-sense of the grandeur of her outlook, the loftiness of
-her peace, the eternal warrant of her claim, took
-possession of his soul. The beauty that clothed
-her was not of time; and no words of tender
-dissembling could conceal the exultant hope that
-bespoke how the days of her darkness should be ended.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The silence was broken by his mother's voice.
-"Go and get them, Harvey—bring your medal
-and your hood. Bring them to your mother, my
-son," she said, as she released him to do her bidding.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He was gone but a moment; returning, he bore in
-one hand the golden token, his name inwoven with
-its gleam. The other held his academic hood, its
-mystic white and purple blending to attest the
-scholar's station; he had thrown his college gown
-about him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mutely standing, he placed the medal in his
-mother's hands. They shook as they received it,
-the thin fingers dumbly following its inscription, both
-hands enclosing it tightly, thrilling to the glad
-sensation. Then he held the hood out towards her,
-stammering some poor explanation of its material and its
-meaning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Put it on, Harvey," she said.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He swiftly slipped it about his neck, the flowing
-folds falling down from his shoulders. Involuntarily
-he bended before his mother, and the poor white
-hands went out in loving quest of the dear-bought
-symbol, tracing its form from end to end, lingering
-fondly over every fold. She spoke no word—but
-the trembling fingers still roved about the glowing
-laurel as her scholar boy stood silent before her, and
-the hot tears fell thick and fast upon it. For the
-memory of other days, days of poverty and stress; and
-the vision of the childish face as she had last beheld
-it; and the thought of all the hidden struggle, more
-bitter than he ever knew, that had thus brought back
-her once unknown child in triumph to his mother's
-home—back, too, in unchanged devotion and unabated
-love, to lay his trophies at the feet of her who
-bore him—all these started the burning tears that
-trickled so fast from the unseeing eyes and fell in
-holy stains upon the spotless emblem.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Clocks are the very soul of cruelty, relentless most
-when loving hearts most wish that they would stay
-their hands. The ebbing moments, inconsiderate of
-all but duty, tell off the hours of our gladness, even
-of sacramental gladness, with unpitying faithfulness.
-And yet, strange as it may seem, how blessed is the
-law that will not let us know when the last precious
-moments are on the wing! How often do devoted
-hearts toy with them carelessly, or waste them in
-unthinking levity, or drug them with unneeded slumber,
-or squander them in wanton silence, as though they
-were to last forever! How the most prodigal would
-garner them, and the most frivolous employ, if it
-were only known that these are the last golden sands
-that glisten their parting message before they glide
-into the darkness!</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>We may not know. As these two did not; and
-the last unconscious hour was spent in the company
-of another. "It's so good of you to come and sit
-with me, Miss Adair, while the children are at the
-party," was Mrs. Simmons' welcome to the kindly
-acquaintance as she entered. "Jessie's going on
-ahead—she promised to give Madeline some little
-help, so she had to go earlier. Won't you need to
-be starting soon, Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going just in a minute, mother," her son
-answered. "And you should have seen our Jessie,"
-he digressed, turning to their visitor. "She never
-looked sweeter in her life. And the dress that she
-had on, she made it herself, she said—I didn't know
-Jessie was so accomplished."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Jessie's made many a—she's made many
-an admirer, by her dresses," the adroit Miss Adair
-concluded, noticing a quick movement of Mrs. Simmons
-in her direction, and suddenly recalling the
-injunction she had forgotten.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm so sorry her flowers were withered," Harvey
-broke in, quite unconscious of what had been averted.
-"I sent her some from the city—but they were so
-wilted when they came that I didn't want her to take
-them."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait a minute, Harvey—I'll go with you a step
-or two," his mother interrupted as her son stooped
-to bid her good-night. "Please excuse me, Miss
-Adair; I'll be back in a minute," taking Harvey's
-arm as he turned towards the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It was so thoughtful of you to send those flowers
-to Jessie," she said as they moved slowly along the
-silent street; "she was quite enraptured when they
-came."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I sent some to—to Madeline too," Harvey informed
-her hesitatingly. "You see, I didn't expect,
-till this morning, to go to the party at all—and I
-wrote Madeline declining. So she isn't expecting me.
-Jessie promised not to tell her I had changed my
-mind; and in my letter I told Madeline I was sending
-the flowers in my place—but I'm afraid they'll
-be withered too. What's the matter, mother?" for
-her whole weight seemed suddenly to come upon his arm.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, dear; nothing much," she said, a little
-pantingly. "Let us sit here a minute," sinking on
-an adjoining step. "I've had these off and on lately,"
-she added, trying to smile. "I'm better now—the
-doctor says it's some little affection of the heart. I
-guess it's just a rush of happiness," she suggested
-bravely, smiling as she turned her face full on
-Harvey's.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm so happy, my son—so proud and happy.
-You've done so well; and God has watched over you
-so wonderfully—and protected you." Then her voice
-fell almost to a whisper, faltering with the words she
-wanted to speak, yet shrank from uttering. These
-spoken, she listened as intently as if for the footfall
-of approaching death.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, mother," he answered low, "no, never once
-since—yet I won't say I haven't felt it; I know I
-have, more than once. If I'm where it is—even if I
-catch the odour of liquor—the appetite seems to
-come back. And it frightened me terribly; it was
-like the baying of hounds," drawing closer as he
-spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's like what your father used to say," she
-whispered, quivering.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But never once, mother—never a single time, since.
-I've always remembered that first night you came
-into my room—and that other time."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And I," she cried eagerly, "haven't I? I've
-been there many a night since then, when Jessie
-was asleep—I used to try and imagine it was you,
-Harvey," she said, turning her face on his in the
-uncertain light.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The gentle colloquy flowed on while the shadows
-deepened about the whispering pair, the one happy
-because youth's radiance overshone his path, the other
-peaceful because a deeper, truer light was gathering
-in her heart. One cloud, and one alone, impaired
-the fullness of his joy; and that was, what even his
-hopeful heart could not deny, that his mother's
-strength was obviously less than when he had seen
-her last. But all the devotion of the years seemed
-gathered up into this gracious hour; the mother,
-mysteriously impelled, seemed loath to let the
-interview be at an end, though she knew Harvey must
-soon be gone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd better hurry now, dear," she said when their
-own door was reached; "no, no, I can go in alone
-all right—on with you to the party, Harvey; they
-can't any of them be happier than I am to-night.
-And tell Madeline, for me, there's only one chick
-like mine in the world—and whoever gets——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The remainder of the message was lost in laughing
-protest as the good-byes were said; the mother
-stole softly in to her patient guest, her son hurrying
-on to the gathering revelry.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="what-made-the-ball-so-fine"><span class="bold large">XXV</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">WHAT MADE THE BALL SO FINE?</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Harvey could not forbear to indulge a
-glance through the flaming windows as he
-drew near the house. He noted, a little
-ruefully it must be said, that almost every gentleman
-guest was attired after the conventional fashion he
-had predicted; but a moment's reasoning repelled
-any threatening embarrassment with scorn. Pressing
-bravely on, he had soon deposited his hat and
-coat, and after a minute or two of waiting in the
-dressing-room began his descent of the stairs to
-mingle with the animated scene.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Looking down, one of the first to be descried
-was David Borland himself, as blithe and cheerful as
-though he were beginning, rather than concluding,
-his sojourn in the spacious house. He was chatting
-earnestly with Dr. Fletcher, interrupting the
-conversation now and then to greet some new-arriving
-guest. Near him was his wife, absorbed in the pleasant
-duty of receiving the steadily increasing throng
-who were to taste for the last time the hospitality for
-which that home had long been famous.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But all others, and there were many whom Harvey
-recognized at a glance, were soon forgotten as his
-eyes rested on one whose face, suddenly appearing,
-filled all the room with light. For Madeline was
-making her way into the ample hall, flushed and
-radiant; her brow, never so serene before, was slightly
-moistened from the evening's warmth, while the
-wonderful hair, still bright and sunny, glistened in
-the softly shaded light. Aglow with excitement, her
-cheeks seemed to boast a colour he had never seen
-before, the delicate pink and white blending as on
-the face of childhood; and the splendid eyes, crowning
-all, were suffused with feeling. The significance
-of the hour and the animation of the scene united to
-create a sort of chastened mirthfulness, brimming
-with dignity and hope, yet still revealing how seriously
-she recognized the vicissitude time had brought,
-how well she knew the import of the change already
-at the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey stood still on the landing, gazing down
-unobserved, his eyes never turning from the face
-whose beauty seemed to unfold before him as he
-stood. Yet not mere beauty, either—he did not
-think of beauty, nor would he have so described
-what charmed him with a strange thrill he had never
-owned before—but the rich expression, rather, of an
-inward life that had deepened and mellowed with the
-years. Great sense was there, for one thing—and in
-the last appeal this feature of womanhood is
-irresistible to a truly manly heart; and her face spoke
-of love, large and generous, as if the weary and the
-troubled would ever find in her a friend; cheerfulness,
-courage, hope, the dignity of purity, the sweetness
-that marks those who have been cherished but not
-pampered and indulged but not petted, all combined
-to provide a loveliness of countenance that fairly
-ravished his heart as he peered through spreading
-palms upon the unconscious face beneath.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Yet the joy he felt was not unmingled. For he
-could see, as a moment later he did see, that other
-eyes were turned with equal ardour in the same
-direction as his own. Madeline's appearance was a
-kind of triumphal entry; and there followed her,
-willing courtiers, two or three of the gallants of the
-place, whose function it evidently was to bear the
-glorious groups of flowers that various admirers had
-sent. Harvey's face darkened a little as he noted
-that Cecil was among them; though, to tell the truth,
-his seemed the most careless gaze of all—if admiration
-marked it, it was hungry admiration and nothing
-more. But the flowers he was carrying were pure;
-he had asked leave to carry them—and they
-themselves could not protest, shrink as they might from
-the unfitting hand. Others, nobler spirits, had
-burdens of equal fragrance, all fresh and beautiful as
-became the object of their homage.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Slowly Harvey moved down the stairs. The proprieties
-were forgotten—all else as well—as he passed
-Mr. and Mrs. Borland by, the one glancing at him
-with obvious admiration, the other with impatient
-questioning. He was standing close in front of
-Madeline before she knew that he was there at all;
-suddenly raising her head as she turned from speaking
-with a friend, the soulful eyes fell full on his.
-She did her best—but the tides of life are strong and
-willful, and this one overswept the swift barrier she
-strove to interpose, as straws are swept before a
-storm. And the flood outpoured about him, surging
-as it smote the passion that leaped to meet it, the
-silent tumult beating like sudden pain on heart and
-ears and eyes, its mingled agony and rapture engulfing
-him till everything seemed to swim before him
-as before a drunken man.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>What voices silent things possess! And how God
-speaks through dull inanimate creatures as by the
-living lips of love! And what tell-tale tongues have
-the most trivial things to peal out life's holiest
-messages! For he saw—dimly at first and with a
-kind of shock, then clearly and with exultant
-certainty—he saw what was in her hand. It was only
-a bunch of simple flowers; but they were sorry
-looking things compared to their rivals whose fragrance
-filled the air, and the languor of death was upon
-them—yes, thank God, their bloom was faded, their
-freshness gone. For he recognized them, he knew
-them; and in the swift foment of his mind he even
-saw again the hard commercial face of the man from
-whom he had bought them, again the hard spared
-coins he had extracted from the poor total his
-poverty had left him, his heart the while leaping within
-him as though it could stand imprisonment no more.
-Dimly, vaguely, he saw behind her the noble clusters
-that other hands had sent—but other hands than hers
-were bearing them—and his were in her own, in the
-one that was bared in careless beauty as her glove
-hung indifferent from the wrist, unconscious of all that
-had displaced it. Careless observers had doubtless
-noted the dying flowers, marvelled mayhap; they
-knew not how instinct they were with life, how
-fadeless against the years their memory was to sweeten
-and enrich.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He stood silent a moment with his hand half-outstretched,
-his eyes divided between the flowers beneath
-and the face above. His soul outpoured itself
-through them in a riot of joy he had neither desire
-nor power to restrain. Madeline stood like some
-lovely thing at bay, her eyes aglow, their message
-half of high reproach and half of passionate welcome.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You told me you weren't coming," she said in
-protesting tones, the words audible to no one but
-himself; "and I didn't expect you," her lips parted,
-her breath coming fast and fitfully, as though she
-were exhausted in the chase. Her radiant face was
-glorified—she knew it not—by the rich tides of
-life that leaped and bounded there, disporting
-themselves in the hour they had awaited long. Yet her
-whole attitude was marked by a strange aloofness,
-the wild air of liberty that is assumed by captive
-things; and her voice was almost controlled again as
-she repeated her remark.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You said you weren't coming;" the words voiced
-an interrogative.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So I did," he acknowledged, his eyes roaming
-about her face; "but I came," he added absently, a
-heavenly stupidity possessing him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"How's your mother?" she asked, struggling back.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's not at all well," he answered, the tone full
-of real meaning; for this was a realm as sacred to
-him as the other.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She was trying to replace her glove, the latter
-stubbornly resisting.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Please button this for me," as she held out her
-arm. He tried eagerly enough; but his hand
-trembled like an aspen. Her own was equally unsteady,
-and progress was divinely slow. He paused, looking
-helplessly up into her face; her hand fell by her side.
-Before either knew that he was near, Cecil's voice
-broke in: "Allow me, Madeline," he said; "I'm an
-old hand at operations like this—I'll do it for you,
-Madeline," as though he gloried in the name, and
-almost before she knew it he had seized her arm,
-swiftly accomplishing his purpose.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Madeline was regal now, her very pose marked by
-unconscious pride. "Thank you," she said, still
-sweetly, "but I don't believe I want it fastened
-now—it's quite warm here, isn't it?" and with a quick
-gesture she slipped it from her hand, moving forward
-towards her father. Harvey stood still where he was;
-but the new heaven and the new earth had come.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The evening wore on; nor could any gathering
-have been enriched with more of feeling than
-pervaded the triumphant hours. All seemed to forget
-the occasion that had convened them, remembering
-nothing but the valued friends who were still to be
-their own, even if outward circumstances were about
-to undergo the change so defiantly acknowledged.
-The crowning feature came when the simple supper
-was finished and the table partially cleared; for
-they who would remember David Borland at his best
-must think of him as he appeared when he called the
-guests to order and bade them fill their glasses high.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Take your choice of lemonade or ginger ale," he
-cried with a voice like a heightening breeze; and they
-who knew him well silently predicted the best of
-David's soul for the assembled guests that night.
-"There ain't nothin' stronger," he went on with
-serious mien; "drinks is always soft when times is
-hard—but drink hearty, friends, an' give the old house
-a good name."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Possibly there was the slightest symptom of a
-tremor in his voice as it referred thus to what he held
-so dear, now about to be surrendered; but a moment
-later the old indomitable light was kindled in his eye,
-the strong face beaming with the unquenched humour
-that had been such a fountain in his own life and the
-lives of others. Something of new dignity was
-noticeable in his entire bearing, the bearing of a man
-who, if beaten, had been beaten in honourable battle,
-resolved still to retain all that was dearest to his
-heart; this explained the look of pride with which he
-marked, as he could hardly fail to mark, the affection
-and respect with which every eye regarded him as he
-stood before his friends.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The toast to the King, and one other, had been
-disposed of, David proceeding merrily to launch another,
-when suddenly he was interrupted by Geordie Nickle,
-who rose from his place at the further end of the table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit doon, David," he enjoined, nodding vehemently
-towards his friend, "an' gie an auld man a
-chance. Ladies an' gentlemen," he went on, directing
-his remarks to the company, "I'll ask ye to fill
-yir glasses wi' guid cauld water for to drink the toast
-I'll gie ye—naethin'll fit the man I'm gaein' to
-mention as weel as that; there's nae mixture aboot him,
-as ye ken. I'm wantin' all o' ye to drink a cup o'
-kindness to the man we love mair when he's puir
-nor we ever did afore. Here's to yin o' th'
-Almichty's masterpieces, David Borland—an' may
-He leave him amang us till He taks him till
-Himsel'."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Geordie paused, his glass high in air. And the
-fervid guests arose to drink that toast as surely toast
-had never been drunk before. With a bumper and
-with three times three, and calling David's name aloud
-after a fashion that showed it had the years behind it,
-and with outgoing glances that spoke louder than
-words, every face searching his own in trust and
-sympathy and love, they did honour to the host
-who should entertain them there no more.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was almost too much for David. He arose when
-his guests had resumed their seats, and stood long
-looking down without a word. But he began at last,
-timidly, hesitatingly, emotion and language gradually
-making their way together as his eyes were slowly
-lifted to rest upon the faces of his friends. He
-referred frankly to the occasion that had brought
-them together, thus to bid farewell to the scene of
-many happy gatherings. "Folks say I'm beaten,"
-he went on, "but that ain't true. I'm not beaten.
-I've lost a little—but I've saved more," as he looked
-affectionately around. "I'm not really much poorer
-than I was. I never cared a terrible lot about money;
-'twas the game more. Just like boys with marbles;
-they don't eat 'em, they don't drink 'em—but they
-like to win 'em."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then he referred to the justice of the power that
-disturbs the security of human comfort, though he
-employed no such terms as those. "A fellow's got
-to take the lean with the fat," he said resignedly;
-"hasn't got no right to expect the clock'll strike
-twelve every time. A miller that sets his wheel by
-the spring freshet, he'd be a fool," he announced
-candidly, knowing no term more accurate, "'cause
-it's bound to drop some time. Of course, it comes
-tougher to </span><em class="italics">get</em><span> poor than to </span><em class="italics">be</em><span> poor; it's worse
-to be impoverished than jest to be poor, as our
-friend Harvey here would say; he's a scholar, you
-know, and a B.A. at that," he added, turning
-his eyes with the others towards Harvey's conscious
-face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A stoot heart tae a steep brae, David!" broke in
-Geordie's voice as he leaned forward, his admiring
-gaze fixed on his friend.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Them's my sentiments," assented David, smiling
-back at the dauntless Scotchman. "I mind a woman
-out in Illinois—she was terrible rich, and she got
-terrible poor all of a sudden. Well, she had to wash
-her own dishes, after the winds descended an' the
-floods blew and beat upon her house, as the Scriptur'
-says—an' she jest put on every diamond ring she
-had to her name an' went at it. That's Mr. Nickle's
-meanin', my friends, I take it—an' that's jest what
-I'm goin' to do myself. I don't know exactly what
-I'm agoin' to go at," he went on thoughtfully; "I've
-got a kind of an offer to be a kind of advisin'
-floor-walker for the line I've been at—an' maybe I'll take
-it an' keep my hand in a bit. We're goin' to live in
-a little cottage—an' there'll always be heaps o' room
-for you all. An' we're goin' to manage all right,"
-he went on, his eye lighting at what was to follow;
-"I've got an arrangement made with Madeline here.
-We won't have a terrible lot of help round the house;
-so she's goin' to attend to the furnace in the
-winter—an' I'm goin' to look after it in the summer. So
-we'll get along all right, all right. An' now, friends,"
-he continued seriously, "I must hump it to a close,
-as the preachers say. But there's one thing—don't
-believe all Mr. Nickle tells you about me; I ain't near
-as good as he says. These Scotchmen's terrible on
-epitaphs when they once get started. An' he's like
-all the rest o' them—when he likes a man he
-swallows him whole. But I want to thank you all for
-helpin' us to make the last night so jolly. I don't find
-it hard myself, for I'm as certain as I ever was of
-anythin' it's all for the best. I want you to give that
-hymn out again next Sunday, doctor," and David's
-face had no trace of merriment as he turned to look
-for his pastor by his side; "oh, I forgot the doctor
-goes home early—but I'll ask him anyhow, an' we'll
-sing it louder'n we ever did before. It's been
-runnin' in my mind an awful lot lately: 'With mercy
-an' with judgment'—you can't beat them words
-much; it's the old comfortin' thought about Who's
-weavin' the web. So now I jest want to thank
-everybody here for comin'—we've had good happy years
-together, an' there's more to follow yet, please God,"
-he predicted reverently as he resumed his seat, the
-deep silence that reigned about him being more
-impressive than the most boisterous applause.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The pause which followed was broken by a suggestion,
-low and muffled at first, gradually finding
-louder voice and at last openly endorsed by Geordie
-Nickle, that "auld lang syne" would be a fitting
-sequel to what had gone before. David hailed the
-proposal with delight.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll sing it now," he said enthusiastically, "an'
-we'll have the old doxology right after—they're both
-sacred songs, to my way o' thinkin'," as he beckoned
-to Geordie to take his place beside him, the company
-rising to voice the love-bright classic.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But just as cordial hands were outgoing to loyal
-hands outstretched to meet them, the door-bell broke
-in with sudden clamour, and some one on the outer
-edge of the circle called aloud the name of Harvey
-Simmons. There was something ominous in the
-tone, and one at least detected the paleness of
-Harvey's cheek as he hurried towards the door. A
-moment sufficed the breathless messenger to communicate
-what he had to tell, and in an instant Harvey
-had turned swiftly towards the wondering company.
-He spoke no word, offered no explanation, but his
-eye fell on Jessie's in silent intimation of what she
-already seemed to fear. Noiselessly she slipped from
-the now voiceless circle, joining her brother as they
-both passed swiftly out into the night.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-fair-sweet-morn-awakes"><span class="bold large">XXVI</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"</span><em class="bold italics medium">THE FAIR SWEET MORN AWAKES</em><span class="bold medium">"</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Darkness was about them, dense and
-silent; nor were the shadows that wrapped
-their hearts less formidable. For something
-seemed to tell Harvey that one of life's great hours
-was approaching, like to which there is none other to
-be confronted by a lad's loving soul. Involuntarily,
-almost unconsciously, his hand went out in the
-darkness in search of his sister's; warm but trembling, it
-stole into his own. And thus, as in the far-off days
-of childhood, they went on through the dark together,
-the slight and timid one clinging to the strong
-and fearless form beside her. But now both hearts
-were chilled with fear—not of uncanny shadows, or
-grotesque shapes by the wayside, or nameless perils,
-as had been the case in other days—but of that
-mysterious foe, one they had never faced before, ever
-recognized as an enemy to be some day reckoned with,
-but now knocking at the gate. Yet, awful though
-they knew this enemy to be, their feet scarce seemed
-to touch the ground, so swiftly did they hurry on to
-meet him, counting every moment lost that held them
-back from the parting struggle. Hand in hand they
-pressed forward, these children of the shadows.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did they say she was dying, Harvey?" Jessie
-asked in an awesome voice, little more than a
-whisper.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's what they thought," he answered, his hand
-tightening on hers; "she thought so herself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The girl tried in vain to check the cry that broke
-from her lips. "Don't, sister, don't," he pleaded, his
-own voice in ruins; "maybe she won't leave us
-yet—but if she does, if she does, she'll see—she'll
-see again, Jessie." The emotion that throbbed in
-the great prediction showed how a mother's blindness
-can lay its hand on children's hearts through
-long and clouded years.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But she won't see us, Harvey, she won't see us
-before she goes. Oh, Harvey, I've longed so much
-for that, just that mother might see us—even if it was
-only once—before she dies. And, you know, the
-doctor said if it came it would come suddenly; and
-I've always thought every morning that perhaps it
-might come that day. And now," the sobbing voice
-went on, "now—if she goes away—she won't have
-seen us at all. And we always prayed, Harvey; we
-prayed always for that," she added, half-rebelliously.
-Her brother answered never a word. Instead, he
-took a firmer grasp upon his sister's hand and strode
-resolutely on. By this time his head was lifted high
-and his eye was kindled with a strange and burning
-glow, his heart leaping like a frightened thing the
-while; for he could descry the light of their cottage
-home. Tiny and insignificant, that home stood
-wrapped in darkness save for that one sombre
-beacon-light—but the flickering gleam that rose and fell
-seemed to call him to the most majestic of all earthly
-scenes, such scenes as lend to hovel or to palace the
-same unearthly splendour.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will she know us, do you think?" Jessie
-whispered as they pushed open the unlocked door and
-went on into the dimly lighted house. Harvey did
-not seem to hear, so bent was he on the solemn quest,
-ascending the stair swiftly but silently, his sister's hand
-still tight within his own. As they came near the
-top they could just catch, through the half-open door,
-the outline of their mother's face, the stamp of death
-unmistakably upon it; she lay white and still upon
-her pillow, two forms bending above her, one of
-which they recognized at once as the doctor's.
-Whereat suddenly, as if unable to go farther, Harvey
-stopped and stood still; Jessie did likewise, turning
-with low sobs and flinging herself into her brother's
-arms, her face hidden while he held her close, silently
-endeavouring to comfort the stricken heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, Jessie," he whispered gently. "Let us
-make it easier for her if we can—and let us think of
-all it means to her—all it'll bring back again.
-Come," the last word spoken with subdued passion,
-courage and anguish blending. They went in together,
-slowly, each seeming to wait for the other to
-lead the way. Their look, their movements, their
-manner of walk, the very way they leaned forward
-to peer with eager, awe-inspired eyes upon their
-mother's face—all spoke of childhood; everything
-reverted in this great hour to the sweet simplicity
-of that period of life that had bound them to
-their mother in sacred helplessness. The primal
-passion flowed anew. And the two who crossed the
-floor together, tip-toeing towards the bed whereon
-their only earthly treasure lay, were now no more a
-laurel-laden man and a maiden woman-grown, waging
-the stern warfare life had thrust upon them; but
-they were simply boy and girl again, hand linked in
-hand as in the far departed days when two stained
-and tiny palms had so often lain one within the
-other—boy and girl, their hearts wrung with that strange
-grief that would be powerless against us all, could
-we but remain grown-up men and women. For the
-kingdom of sorrow resembles the kingdom of heaven,
-in this, at least, that we enter farthest in when we
-become like little children; and an all-wise Father has
-saved many a man from incurable maturity by the
-rejuvenating touch of sorrow, by the youth-renewing
-ministry of tears.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look, oh, Harvey, look," Jessie suddenly whispered
-in strange, excited tones. Subdued though her
-voice was, a kind of storm swept through it. Harvey
-started, looked afresh—and saw; and instinctively,
-almost convulsively, he turned and clutched Jessie
-tightly by the arm. She too was clinging to him in
-a very spasm of trembling.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She sees us," came Jessie's awesome tidings, her
-face half-hidden on her brother's shoulder.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She sees us," he echoed absently, his face turning
-again towards the bed, his eyes resuming the
-wondrous quest.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He gazed, unspeaking, as one might gaze who sees
-within the veil. All else was forgotten, even great
-Death—so jealous of all rivals—whose presence had
-filled the room a moment or two agone. And the
-silent years beyond—ah me! the aching silence after
-a mother's voice is hushed—were unthought of now.
-And the grim and boding shade of orphanhood,
-deepening from twilight into dark, was unavailing
-against the new-born light that flooded all his soul
-with joy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>For he saw—and the bitter memories of bygone
-years fled before the vision as the night retreats
-before the dawn—he saw a smile upon his mother's
-face, the smile he had not seen for years; unforgotten,
-for it had mingled with his dreams—but it had
-vanished from her eyes when those eyes had looked
-their last upon her children's faces. Yes, it was in
-her eyes—brightness he had often seen before on
-cheek and lip, merriment even—but this was the
-heart's loving laughter breaking through the soul's
-clear window as it had been wont to do before that
-window had been veiled in gloom.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He remembered afterwards, what he did not then
-remark, that the doctor, observing his rapt expression,
-came close with some whispered explanation—some
-discourse on the relaxation of the optic nerve
-as a result of physical collapse—something of that
-sort, and much more, did the good man stammer
-forth to eke out this miracle of God. But Harvey
-heard him not—nor saw him even—for the love-light
-in his mother's eyes called him with imperious
-voice, and almost roughly did he snatch
-himself from Jessie's grasp as he pressed forward
-with outstretched hands. He moved around the
-foot of the bed, his hands still extended; and as
-he did so he noticed, with wild surging joy, that the
-devouring eyes followed him as he went. The
-sensation, new, elemental, overpowering, almost
-overcame him; something of the sense of repossession of
-a long absent soul, or the kindling of a long
-extinguished fire, or the cessation of a long tormenting
-pain, laid hold upon his heart. As he drew near and
-bent low above the bed, his mother's face was
-almost as a holy thing, so transfigured was it with its
-glow of love. The rapture in her eyes was such as
-conquerors know—for it was the moment of her
-triumph after the long battle with the years. And
-her lips moved as if they longed to chant the victor's
-song; yet they were muffled soon—for the hands she
-laid upon the bended shoulders of her boy were
-hungry hands, and that strange strength so often
-vouchsafed the dying was loaned her as she drew the
-manly form, all quivering and broken now, close to
-her throbbing bosom. A moment only—for the
-yearning eyes would not be long denied—till she
-gently released the hidden face, holding him forth
-before her while the long thirsting orbs drank deep of
-holy gladness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Harvey," she murmured low, "Harvey, my
-son—my little son."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother—my mother," he answered back, as his
-hand stroked the pallid cheek; for the new vision was
-as wonderful to him as her returning vision could be
-to her. "Oh, mother, don't—don't leave us now,
-dear mother," he sobbed in pleading, the child-note
-breaking through his voice again, "now, when we'll
-all be so happy, mother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She smiled and shook her head faintly; his plea
-seemed to find but faint lodgment in her mind. For
-she was otherwise employed; she gazed, as though
-she could never gaze enough, upon the loving,
-pleading face before her; she was searching for all
-that would reveal the soul behind—all that might
-speak of purity, and temperance, and victory; she was
-gathering traces of the years, the long curtained years
-through which his unfolding soul had been hidden
-from her sight. And her eyes wandered from his
-face only long enough to lift themselves to heaven in
-mute thanksgiving to that God whose truth and
-faithfulness are the strength and refuge of a mother's
-heart.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly she turned restlessly upon her pillow, her
-gaze outgoing beyond Harvey's now bended head.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Jessie," she said with returning rapture, "oh,
-Jessie—my wee Jessie—my little daughter; oh, my
-darling," as she drew the awe-stricken face down
-beside her brother's. There they nestled close, there as
-in blessed and unforgotten days, all the fragrance of
-the sorrow-riven past, all the portent of the love-lorn
-future mingling in baptism upon their almost
-orphaned heads.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The thin white fingers toyed with the girl's lovely
-hair; "it's so much darker," she half whispered as if
-to herself, "but it's beautiful; your face, Jessie; let
-me see your face," she faltered, as the maiden turned
-her swimming eyes anew upon her mother. "Thank
-God," she murmured, "oh, let me say it while I can—He's
-been so good to me. He's kept us all—all—so
-graciously; and He's—always—found the path.
-It was never—really—dark; and now He's made it
-light at eventide," she half cried with a sudden gust
-of strength and gladness. "And I know—I've seen—before
-I go; it'll make heaven beautiful," and she
-sank back, faint and exhausted, on her pillow.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The devoted doctor and the faithful friend had both
-slipped noiselessly from the room. They knew that
-love's last Sacrament was being thus dispensed, the
-precious wine to be untasted more till these three
-should drink it new in the kingdom of God. But
-now Miss Adair, her love impelling her, ventured
-timidly back; she came gently over, so gently that
-she was unnoticed by the bending children, taking
-her place beside Harvey. She touched him on the
-shoulder; his eyes gave but a fleeting spark of
-recognition as they fell on what she held in her hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought she'd like to see them," said the kindly
-woman; "she couldn't before, you know," and as she
-spoke she bended above the bed, a look of
-expectation on her face as she held Harvey's hood,
-and his medal, before the new-illumined eyes. The
-lamp's dim light fell athwart them and they gleamed
-an instant as if in conscious pride.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The dying woman saw them; her eyes rested a
-moment on them both, and the kindly purposed
-neighbour made as if to put them in her hands. But
-the purpose died before she moved—for the mother's
-glance showed her that these things were to her now
-but as the dust. The time was short; the night was
-coming fast; the dying eyes, so strangely lightened
-for this parting joy, were consecrated to one purpose
-and to that alone—and the gleaming gold and the
-flashing fabric lay unnoticed on the bed, the mother's face
-still turned upon her children's in yearning eagerness,
-as though she must prepare against the years that
-would hide them from her sight till the endless day
-should give them back to her undimmed gaze forever.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Few were the words that were spoken now. The
-stream of peace flowed silently; and the reunited
-three held their high carnival of love—and of strange
-sorrow-clouded joy—the long tragedy of their united
-lives breaking at last into the blessedness of resignation,
-resignation aglow with hope. For this pledge of
-God's faithfulness was hailed by every heart; and
-they felt, though no lip voiced the great assurance,
-that life's long shadows would at last be lost in love's
-unclouded day.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Into a gentle, untroubled slumber their mother fell
-at length. When she awaked, her eyes leaped anew,
-fastening themselves upon her children as though the
-precious gift had been bestowed afresh.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I had a lovely—dream," she faltered. "I saw
-you—both—little children—like you used to be.
-And I thought your father—was—there too. It
-was heaven," she went on, her face brightening with
-a far-off light; "I thought he was there—and all
-the—the struggle—was past and gone. You
-asked—me—once, dear—if he was there," her sweet smile
-turned on Harvey. "Not yet, dear—not
-yet—but——" She motioned him to bend down beside
-her. "Your father's living," she whispered low, her
-shining eyes fixed on his. Jessie retreated, not
-knowing why, but the wonderful light told her that
-it was a great moment between mother and son.
-"He's living," the awed voice whispered again—"but
-he's afraid. He'll come back—some day—Harvey.
-And you—you—must forgive him. He'll
-tell you. And love him; tell him—I'm—waiting
-there. You must love him—and forgive him—and
-bring him——" Then she stopped, breathless.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The wonderful tidings seemed at first almost more
-than the son could bear. With face suffused and eyes
-aglow, he gazed upon his mother. Suddenly his lips
-began to move; he spoke like one who has descried
-something wonderful, and far away.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mother," he whispered low, "yes, I'll love
-him—I love him now; I'll love him—like you love
-him. And I'll bring him, mother, when he comes
-back; I'll bring him—we'll come together. I'll tell
-him what you said," he cried, forgetful who might
-hear, "and then he'll come—I know he'll come," his
-face radiant with the thought.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And Jessie," the mother murmured, "Jessie too."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Jessie too," he answered; "come, Jessie—come,"
-as he beckoned to her; she moved gently
-over and kneeled with him beside the bed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The day had broken. And the glowing heralds
-of the approaching sun were making beautiful the
-path before him. Hill and dale, their shining
-outlines visible in the distance, were clothed in golden
-glory; the opal clouds announced the coming of
-their king; the fragrant trees, and the bursting buds,
-and the spreading blossoms, and the kindling sward,
-and the verdure-covered fields gave back the
-far-flung smile of light. Like a bride adorned for her
-husband, all stood in unconscious beauty as far as
-eye could reach.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look, mother, look," Harvey cried suddenly,
-gently lifting the dear head from the pillow as the
-sanctity of the scene impelled him. "Oh, mother,
-you can see them all," rapture and sorrow mingling
-in the tone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The far-seeing eyes turned slowly towards the
-window, rested one brief, wonderful moment upon the
-wonderful sight, then turned away in ineffable
-tenderness and longing, fastening themselves again where
-they had been fixed before. For love is a mighty
-tyrant and the proudest kings must take their place
-as vassals in his train.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>An instant later the dying eyes seemed to leap far
-beyond, beautiful with rapture. "Look, look," she
-cried as though the others were the blind, "look, oh
-look," her voice ringing clear with the last energy
-of death; "it's lovelier yonder—where it's always
-spring. Don't you see, Harvey? Jessie, don't you
-see? And baby's there, Jessie—Harvey, the baby's
-there—and she's beckoning; look, look, it's you—not
-me—she's calling. Let us all go," she said, the
-voice dropping to faintness again, the eyes turning
-again upon her children; "let us—all—go; it's
-so—lovely; and we're—all—so tired," as the dear lips
-became forever still.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And the rejoicing sun came on, the riot of his joy
-untempered, no badge of mourning in his hand. And
-he greeted the motherless with unwonted gladness as
-he filled the little room with light, kissing the silent
-face as though he would wish it all joy of the
-well-won rest. For he knew, he knew the secret of it
-all. He knew Who had transfigured hill and dale and
-tree and flower with the glance of love; he knew the
-source of all life's light and shade; he knew the
-afterward of God; he knew Death's other, sweeter name.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But the motherless made no response. Still they
-knelt, one on each side of the unanswering form; and
-still, tightly clasped, each held a wasted hand.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-brother-s-mastery"><span class="bold large">XXVII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">A BROTHER'S MASTERY</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>It was the following night, the last night of all.
-Harvey lay with wide staring eyes that sought
-in vain to pierce the darkness; he felt it were
-almost a sacrilege to sleep, even could he have done
-so, since there would lie never more beneath the long
-familiar roof the beloved form that he had never
-known absent for a single night. He suddenly realized
-this—and it leaped like fire in his brain—that he
-had never spent a night in this, the only home he
-had ever known, without the dear presence that must
-to-morrow be withdrawn. He recalled the comfort
-and the courage this had given him in many a trembling
-hour when the nameless fears of childhood gathered
-with the night; how sometimes, tormented by
-grotesque shapes and grotesquer fancies, his terror
-had vanished like a dream when he had heard her
-cough, or sigh, or break into the gentle tones he had
-early learned were between her soul and God. He
-recalled, too, that often, startled by some unreasoning
-fear, he would call out loudly in the night; and in a
-moment the gentle form would be beside his bed, her
-hand upon him as she caressed him with a word,
-which word became the lullaby upon whose liquid
-wave he was borne back to dreamland.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>All this could never be again, he mused in bitter
-loneliness. As he dwelt upon it the thought became
-almost intolerable; and suddenly rising—for he had
-not yet undressed—he began noiselessly to descend
-the stairs, purposing to go out into the night; for
-there is healing in the cool cisterns of the midnight
-air. But he noticed, to his surprise, a light stealing
-from beneath Jessie's door; instinctively he turned
-and knocked, his lonely heart glad of the sympathy
-he would not seek there in vain.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She bade him enter; obeying, he stood amazed as
-he beheld how his sister was employed. For Jessie
-was full dressed; it was after three o'clock, but she
-had made no preparations for retiring. Instead, she
-was seated on the bed, the room bestrewed with materials
-for the toil that was engrossing her. Cloth, of
-various kinds and in various shapes, separated fragments
-yet to be adjusted, were scattered about; scissors
-and spools and tape measures lay upon the bed
-on which the stooping form was seated. And Jessie
-herself, a lamp whose oil was almost exhausted
-stationed high above her, was sewing away as if for life
-itself; worn and weary, her fingers chafed and sore, a
-burning flush on either cheek, the tired shoulders
-stooped and bent, she was pressing on with her
-humble toil.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He uttered a quick exclamation of surprise, almost
-of reproach, as his eyes fell on the pitiful face and
-noticed the signs of drudgery about her. His first
-thought, as soon as he could collect himself, was that
-his sister was preparing the habiliments of mourning
-which her orphanhood would now demand. But
-sad and striking contrast, the fabric over which the
-fragile form was bent was of a far different kind. The
-material was of the richest and gayest sort, while
-yoke of rarest embroidery, and costly lace, and rich
-brocade, spoke of wealth and fashion far beyond their
-station.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie started as if detected in some guiltful work;
-she even made one swift attempt to hide the handiwork
-that lay glistening across her knee.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey closed the door; and there was more of
-sternness in his voice than she had ever heard before.
-"Jessie," he said gravely, "our mother's lying dead
-downstairs."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Alas! the poor girl knew it well. And her only
-answer was a quick and copious gush of tears. It
-was pitiful to see her snatch the delicate creation and
-toss it quickly from her, lest her grief should stain it;
-then she rocked gently to and fro in a gust of sorrow.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Harvey," she sobbed, "you didn't mean that,
-brother. I know you didn't mean it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He was still in the dark. But the anguish of this
-dear heart, so loyal to him through the years, was
-more than he could stand. With one quick stride he
-took his place beside her on the bed, his arm
-encircling her with infinite tenderness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, sister," he said, "don't cry like that; I
-didn't mean it, dear—only I didn't understand—I
-can't understand."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She offered no explanation, sobbing gently a few
-minutes in his arms.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't understand, Jessie," he said again a
-little later.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't help it," she said at last without
-raising her head. "I didn't want to sew, with mother
-lying dead—but I couldn't help it. I really couldn't.
-It's not for me," she flung out at last, the long hidden
-secret surrendered after all. "It's not for me—and I
-had to get it done. They insisted so—and I couldn't
-afford to lose them—it's for a party."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The blood left Harvey's face, then surged hotly
-back to it again. His arms fell from about her and
-he sat like one in a trance. His eyes roved dumbly
-about the room, falling here and there upon many a
-thing, unnoticed in the first survey, that confirmed
-the assurance which now chilled him to the heart.
-Then his eyes turned to his sister's face. It was
-averted, downcast—but he could see, what he had but
-casually remarked before, how the hand of toil had
-left its mark upon it. Sweet and tender and unselfish,
-courage and resolution in every line, he could now
-read the whole sad story of what lay behind. The
-worn fingers were interlocked upon her lap, and he
-could see how near the blood was to the very fingertips.
-And as he reflected, almost madly, upon the
-desperate necessity that had held her to her work
-under the very shadow of death, and driven her to it
-though with a broken heart; as he recalled the
-mysterious sources of support that had never failed
-him till his college course was done, a flood of sacred
-light broke upon it all—and the dear form before him,
-tired and wasted as it was, was gently drawn to his
-bosom with hands of reverent love, his murmuring
-lips pressed lightly to the burning cheeks in penitent
-devotion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Forgive me, sister," he pleaded in a faltering
-voice, "oh, forgive me; for I did not know—I did not
-know."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Her answer was never spoken; but it came.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was not long till he had learned, and from her
-own reluctant lips, all the story of the toil and
-drudgery that had been thus so suddenly revealed.
-But, protest as he might, Jessie was resolved to press
-on with the work she had been engaged in.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm just as well able to work as you are, Harvey,"
-she said earnestly. "I certainly will not give up the
-store."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But I'm sure of a position on the newspaper I
-was telling you about, Jessie," Harvey urged—"and
-I can at least help; I can always spare a little," he
-assured her confidently, "and there's one thing you
-must do before very long," he went on eagerly;
-"you've really got to come and stay a while with
-Miss Farringall. She practically made me promise
-for you. Couldn't somebody mind the store while
-you're away?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so," Jessie relented enough to say;
-"Miss Adair could manage it well enough, of course.
-And I'd love to have a long visit with you, brother,"
-she added fondly. "We're all alone in the world
-now, Harvey," her voice trembling as the tired eyes
-filled to overflowing—"we haven't anybody else but
-each other now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey looked her full in the face. "There's
-another," he said in a whisper after a long silence.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie started violently; then her demand for more
-light came swift and urgent.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As gently as he could, he broke to her the wonderful
-news. The girl was trembling from head to foot.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But her first thought seemed to be of her mother.
-"And that was it," she cried amid her sobs; "that
-was the sorrow mother carried about with her all the
-time. Oh, Harvey, I always knew there was
-something—I always felt mother had some burden she
-wouldn't let us share with her—I always felt her heart
-was hungry for something she hoped she'd get before
-she died. Poor, poor mother—our dear, brave
-mother!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey staunched the tide of grief as best he
-could. Their talk turned, and naturally enough, to
-the hope of their father's return some day, both
-promising the fulfillment of their mother's dying wish.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll do just as mother would have done," the
-girl said in sweet simplicity; "and we'll wait
-together, Harvey—we'll watch and wait together."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And you'll help me, won't you, sister?" Harvey
-asked suddenly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What to do?" Jessie said wonderingly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just help me," he answered, his voice faltering.
-"Will you promise me that, Jessie; you don't know
-yet all it means—just always to stick to me, and help
-me, and believe in me—till—till father comes?" he
-concluded, looking steadfastly into her wondering
-eyes. "Come with me, sister—come."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The darkness was at its deepest, the lamp-light now
-flickered into gloom, as he rose and led her gently
-from the room. Groping noiselessly, they two, the
-only living things about the house, crept downward
-to the chamber of the dead. The door creaked with
-a strange unearthly sound as Harvey pushed it open
-and drew his sister in beside him. Onward he
-pressed, his arm still supporting her, till they stood
-above the silent face. It lay in the pomp of the
-majestic silence, calmly awaiting the last earthly dawn
-that should ever break upon it, awaiting that
-slow-approaching hour when the last movement should be
-made, the last tender rudeness which would lay it,
-swaying slightly, upon the waiting bosom of the
-earth—and then the eternal stillness and the dark.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They stood long, no sound escaping them, above
-the noble face. Its dim outlines could be just
-discerned, calm and stately in the royal mien of death.
-They gazed long together. "I believe she's near us,"
-Harvey whispered. Then he drew her gently down
-till their faces met upon the unresponsive face of their
-precious dead.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A moment later he led her tenderly away. She
-passed first through the door; but he turned and
-looked back. The first gray streak of dawn was
-stealing towards his mother's face; and he saw, or
-thought he saw, a look of deeper peace upon it than
-had ever been there before. And the still lips spoke
-their benediction and breathed their love upon her
-children—all the more her own because she dwelt
-with God.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-light-at-midnight"><span class="bold large">XXVIII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">A LIGHT AT MIDNIGHT</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"There's something—but I don't know
-what it is. But there's something; now
-Jessie, do sit up straight, and breathe
-deep—you know you promised me you'd breathe
-deep. Yes, there's something wrong with Harvey."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>If Jessie was not breathing very deep she was
-breathing very fast. Even Grey felt a nameless
-agitation in the domestic atmosphere, looking up with
-cat-like gravity into Miss Farringall's troubled face.
-He had noticed, doubtless, that the mercurial spectacle,
-had been ascending and descending from nose to
-brow and from brow to nose with significant rapidity.
-Grey did not look at Jessie—except casually. She
-not been sufficiently long in the house—and
-belonged to one of the oldest and best-bred of
-feline families.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Still Jessie did not speak. But her hostess, dear
-soul, was ever equal to double duty. Like most
-maiden ladies, Miss Farringall had the dialogue gift
-abundantly developed; nor was it liable to perish
-through disuse.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," she went on as cheerfully as her perplexity
-would allow, "he's been so different lately. He
-comes home at such strange hours, for him. And
-sometimes he waits a long time at the door, as if he
-didn't know whether to come in or not. Of course,"
-she added reassuringly, "no one else knows but me;
-Barlow never hears anything, for he's dead all
-night—he never resurrects till half-past seven," a timid
-smile lighting her face a moment. "But Harvey's
-different every way; all his fun and merriment are
-gone—and he seems so depressed and discouraged,
-as if he was being beaten in some fight his life
-depended on. I don't know what to make of it at all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie's face showed white in the gaslight; and her
-voice was far from steady. "Has this all been
-since—since mother died?" she asked, with eyes
-downcast and dim.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not altogether. No, not at all. I noticed it first,
-a while after he went on the </span><em class="italics">Argus</em><span>. He was so
-proud about getting on the staff—he got hold of a
-life of Horace Greeley in the library, and he used to
-joke about it and say some day he'd stand there too.
-But it began one morning—the change, I mean—and
-he's never been the same since. And one night, just
-before he went out, he brought me an envelope and
-asked me to keep it till he came back. I'm not very
-sure, but I think there was money in it—and it was
-just at the end of the month too," she added
-significantly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Doesn't he like newspaper life?" enquired Jessie.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes; I think he's crazy about it. You see,
-with his education and his gifts—he's a born writer—there
-isn't any kind of business could suit him better.
-I think he has his own times with Mr. Crothers—he's
-the city editor, a kind of manager. He's a strange
-man, blusters and swears a good deal, I think—but
-he's got a good heart, from what I can hear."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why don't you have a confidential talk with
-Harvey?" suggested Jessie. "He'd tell you almost
-anything, I'm sure."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've thought of that. But I was going to ask
-you the very same thing. Why don't you?—you're
-his sister."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie's lip quivered. "I couldn't," she said
-hesitatingly; "I couldn't stand it. Besides, you know,
-I ought to go home to-morrow. Miss Adair's expecting
-me—and she says the store always prospers better
-when I'm there myself; she's had charge for ten
-days now, while I've been visiting here."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Farringall sighed. "I wish I could coax you
-out of that," she said. "Why will you go away so
-soon, Jessie? These days you've been here have been
-such a joy; I'm such a lonely creature," she added
-glancing out at the silent, dimly-lighted hall. "There's
-hardly ever anybody around now but Barlow—and
-he's a ghost. Of course, Dr. Wallis comes when I
-send for him—but we always quarrel. Then, of
-course, the rector comes every little while—but he's
-a kind of a prayer-book with clothes on; he gets
-solemner every day. What I'm getting to hate about
-him," she went on, vehemently, "is that he has his
-mind made up to be solemn, and he's not meant for
-it—red-headed men with freckles never are," she
-affirmed decisively. "But you and Harvey, you almost
-seem, Jessie—you might have been my own children,
-I think sometimes," a queer little tremor in the voice,
-the withered cheek flushing suddenly. But Jessie did
-not remark the strange tenderness of the glance she
-cast towards the treasure-hiding desk in the corner.
-"Some day I want to tell you——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But her voice suddenly died away in silence as
-both women turned their eyes eagerly towards the
-door. For they could see the approaching form of
-the subject of their conversation. And it needed but
-a glance to confirm the opinion Miss Farringall had
-already expressed. Harvey was making his way
-heavily up the stairs, his step slow and uncertain,
-his whole bearing significant of defeat. As he
-passed the door a faint plaintive smile played upon
-the face that was turned a moment on the familiar
-forms within; the face was haggard and pale, the eyes
-heavy and slightly bloodshot, the expression sad and
-despondent. Yet the old chivalrous light was there;
-clouded it was as if by shame and self-reproach, yet
-with native pride and honour flashing through it all
-as though the fires of a stern and unceasing conflict
-were glowing far within.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie started as if to greet him. But something
-checked her—she would wait till they were alone.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Entering his room and pausing only to remove his
-boots, Harvey flung himself with a stifled groan upon
-the bed. How long he had lain there before interruption
-came, he neither knew nor cared. For the unclosed
-eyes were staring out into the darkness, his
-brain half-maddened with its activity of pain. Nearly
-everything that concerned his entire life seemed to
-float before him as his hot eyes ransacked the
-productive dark. Childhood days, with their deep
-poverty and their deeper wealth; the light and music of
-their darkened, sorrow-shaded home; the plaintive
-enterprise of their little store; the friends and
-playmates of those early days—and one friend, if
-playmate never; the broadened life of college, and all his
-discovery of himself, his powers, his possibilities, his
-perils; the one epoch-making night of life, its light
-above the brightness of the sun—his burning face hid
-itself in the pillow, his hands tight clenched as those
-half-withered flowers in Madeline's hand rose before
-him, his hopes more faded now than they. Then
-came the holy scene that had followed fast, so
-wonderfully vivid now—for in the dark he could see his
-mother's dying face with strange distinctness, the dear
-eyes open wide and filled with tender light as they
-turned upon her son, the thin hands outstretched as
-if to call the tired one to the comfort of her love.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The glow of filial passion lingered but a moment
-on the haggard face. For other memories followed
-fast. How he had bidden farewell to Jessie, returning
-to the city with high resolve to snatch nobler
-gains than the poor laurels her secret heroism had
-enabled him to win—his hood and medal flitted for
-a moment through his thought, only to be cast aside
-as paltry baubles, garish trifles, with their dying
-sheen; how, later, he had secured a worthy place on
-the news staff of one of the leading dailies of the city,
-his heart high with hope for the career that should
-await him; how his gifts and his opportunity had
-conspired to confirm the hope.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Clouds and darkness were about the remainder of
-his reverie. But part of it had to do with his hour
-of joy and triumph. He felt again the jubilance, the
-separate sort of thrill, that had possessed him when
-the great "scoop" had been accomplished—to use the
-vivid metaphor that journalists employ. And he
-recalled the annual banquet—he could see many of the
-faces through the dark—at which his own name had
-been called aloud, actually requested as he had been to
-propose the toast to the paper it was his pride to serve.
-Then came the brief, fatal struggle as the glasses
-were lifted high. He ground his teeth as he
-remembered Oliver—once friend and chum, now fiend and
-enemy; and Harvey's thought of him was lurid with
-a kind of irrational hate—for Oliver had spurred and
-stung him to his fall with one or two quick sentences
-that seemed cogent enough at the time; the appeal
-had been to shame, and to what was due the concern
-that had honoured him, and to other things of that
-kind; in any case, it had all been like lashing a horse
-that hesitates before a hurdle. And he had leaped
-it—oh, God, he thought to himself, this cad against
-his mother! He had leaped it. And then the
-slumbering passion that had sprung anew to life
-within him—not passion perhaps, nor yet appetite
-either—but a kind of personal devil that had tangled
-its will all up with his own, and had seemed to laugh
-at his feeble struggling, and to exult like one who had
-won again an unforgotten victory, running riot in
-fiendish glee since his prowess had prevailed once more.
-Harvey held his hands to his burning brow as he
-recalled the pitiful resistance that had followed; he
-could feel the ever-tightening grasp again, like the
-relentless coils of the sea-monsters he had read about
-so often; he recalled how his soul had fluttered its
-poor protest, like some helpless bird, against this
-cruel hand that was bound to have its will with
-it—and how struggle and promise and pledge and prayer
-had all seemed to be in vain.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He thought, too, but only for a moment—he could
-not, would not longer dwell upon it—of the shameful
-peace he had found at last; the peace of the
-vanquished; such peace as servile souls enjoy, for it can
-be purchased cheap—and the evil memory of it all
-surged over him like hissing waves. Nearly a week
-had followed, such a week as any mother, bending
-above the cradle of her child, might pray God to—</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But this was like groping in a morgue—and it
-must stop. He rose half erect from his bed, shaking
-himself like one who tries to clamber back from the
-slough of evil dreams. Just at this moment a knock
-came to the door; his soul leaped towards the
-sound—it was a human touch at least, thank God, and he
-needed some such Blucher for such a Waterloo.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in," he said huskily, lest reinforcement of
-any sort whatever might escape.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And she came. Without a word, but her whole
-being fragrant of sympathy and love, she moved
-unhesitatingly towards the bed. She caught, as she
-came nearer, the fateful fumes. And she knew—the
-most innocent are the most sensitive to the breath of
-sin—but her heart only melted with a tenderer
-compassion, her arms outstretched in yearning, taking
-the stalwart frame into what seemed to him like the
-very guardianship of God.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Harvey," the voice thrilling with the melody
-of love; "oh, my brother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He clung closer to her, without speaking.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell me, Harvey—won't you tell me?" He
-could feel the care-wrung bosom heaving.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Still no word.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We've never had any secrets, brother—won't you
-tell me, Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You know," after a long pause.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Still silence. Why did she breathe so fast?</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you know, Jessie?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Silence long—"Yes, I know," she said, "and I
-never loved you as I love you now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then the flood-gates were rolled back and the tide
-burst forth. Oh, the luxury of it; the sweetness of
-it—to feel, nay, to know, that there was one life that
-clung to him, trusted him, loved him, through all the
-waste and shame! And the blessed relief it gave; to
-tell it all, keeping nothing back, blaming no other—not
-even Oliver—breathing out the story of the
-struggle and the overthrow and the humiliation and
-the anguish. And in that hour Hope, long absent
-and aloof, came back and nestled in his heart again.
-On he went, the story long and intimate and awful,
-coming closer and closer by many and circuitous
-routes to the very soul of things, hovering about the
-Name he almost dreaded now to speak, yet yearned
-with a great longing to pronounce; his soul was
-crying out for all that was behind his mother's name, the
-comfort and sympathy and power which he felt, dimly
-but unconquerably, could not be stifled in a distant
-grave.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think she knows?" he asked at last, in a
-tone so low that even Jessie could scarcely hear.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They could catch the sound of the wind upon the
-grass as they waited, both waited. "Yes," as she
-trembled closer, "yes, thank God."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He started so suddenly as to frighten her. The
-conflict-riven face peered into hers through the dark.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" he asked sternly. "What did you say?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I think she knows," the calm voice answered.
-"I'm sure God knows—and it makes it easier."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He held her out at arm's length, still staring at her
-through the gloom. "What?—I thought sorrows
-were all past and over—for her," the words coming
-as a bitter questioning.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie's face, serene with such composure as only
-sorrow gives, was held close to his own. "We
-cannot tell," she whispered low; "that is between her
-and God—they both know."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He struggled silently with the deep meaning of
-her words.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You see," sweet girlishness in the voice again,
-"you see, Harvey, they know what's farther on—oh,
-brother, brother dear, it'll be better yet," her voice
-breaking now with an emotion she could control no
-longer; "it won't always be like this, Harvey—you
-won't do it any more, will you, brother?" sobbing as
-she buried her face beside his own. "We've had so
-much trouble, Harvey—the joy's only been the
-moments, and the sorrow's been the years—and we got
-mother safe home," the quivering voice went on,
-"and I thought we'd follow on together—and—some
-day—we'd find our father. And you won't make
-it all dark again, will you, Harvey? You'll fight—and
-I'll fight—we'll fight it out together, Harvey. It
-seems nothing now, what we had before—I mean, it
-doesn't seem a bit hard just to be poor—if we can
-only keep each other, Harvey," and the poor trembling
-form, so long buffeted by life's rude billows,
-clung to the only shelter left her, her soul
-outbreathing its passionate appeal.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was more of silence than of speech while
-they waited long together. He could feel the
-beating of the brave and trustful heart beside his own;
-this seemed to bring him calm and courage. In a
-mysterious way, she seemed to link his wounded life
-anew to all the sacred past, all the unstained days, all
-the conflict for which he had had strength and to
-spare, all the holy memories that had drifted so far
-from him now, a yawning gulf between.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Won't you come home with me, Harvey?" she
-said at length.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Why?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, perhaps it would help us both. I was
-going to ask you to come anyhow—for one thing, I
-wanted you to help Mr. Borland," she added quickly,
-glad of the fitting plea. "He's going to run for
-mayor, you know—and I thought you'd like to do
-what you can."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey smiled. "I guess my own contest will give
-me enough to do," he said rather bitterly. "It was
-good of you to ask me, Jessie—but I'll stay on my
-own battlefield," his lips tightly shut.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A long silence reigned again. "Look," he cried
-suddenly, "it's getting light."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie turned and looked. And the wondrous
-miracle crept on its mystic way; healing, refreshing,
-soothing, rich with heavenly promise and aglow with
-heavenly hope, telling its great story and bidding
-every benighted heart behold the handiwork of God,
-the silent metaphor was uttering forth the lesson of
-the returning day. For the new heaven and the
-new earth were appearing, fresh with unspotted
-beauty, recurring witnesses to the regenerating
-power of the All-sanguine One.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's getting light," she echoed dreamily. "Do
-you remember that line, Harvey, mother used to love
-so much?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No; what line?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a hymn line," she answered softly. "'The
-dawn of heaven breaks'—I'm sure she sees this, too.
-Look at the clouds yonder, all gold and purple—it's
-going to be a lovely day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's going to be a new day," he said, gazing long
-in silence at the distant fount of light.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="how-david-swept-the-field"><span class="bold large">XXIX</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">HOW DAVID SWEPT THE FIELD</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Go and wash your hands, Madeline, before
-you fix your father's tie. I little thought
-my daughter would ever come to this—filling
-those wretched kerosene lamps; it's bad enough to
-have to come down to lamps, without having to fill
-them," and Mrs. Borland sighed the sigh of the
-defrauded and oppressed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't worry about me, mother; if you only knew
-how much better a girl's complexion shows with them
-than with the gas, you wouldn't abuse them so. All
-right, father, I'll put the finishing touches on you in
-a minute—what did you say was the hour for the
-meeting? I wish I could go—one of the hardest
-things about being a girl is that you can't go to
-political meetings," and Madeline's merry face showed
-how seriously she regarded the handicap.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Them lamps is all right, mother—they come of
-good old stock," and David regarded a tall,
-umbrageous one with something very like affection;
-"that there one was the last light that shined on my
-father's face," he added reminiscently, "an' I'm awful
-glad we kept it. The meetin's at half-past eight,
-Madeline. An' don't feel bad 'cause you can't go—us
-politicians has our own troubles," he continued
-with mock gravity; "it was this kind o' thing killed
-Daniel Webster—an' I'm not feelin' terrible peart
-myself. But I'm goin' to wear my Sunday choker,"
-he concluded cheerfully enough, holding his tie out
-to Madeline, the dimpled hands now ready for the
-important duty.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Tie it carefully, Madeline—if your father's going to
-resign, he should look his best when he's doing it," and
-Mrs. Borland surveyed the operation with a critical eye.
-"I'll warrant you Mr. Craig'll be dressed like a lord."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I ain't goin' to resign, mother—I'm only goin' to
-withdraw," David corrected gravely. "There's all
-the difference in the world between resignin' an'
-withdrawin'; any one can resign, but it takes a
-terrible smart man to withdraw. You've got to be a
-politician, like me, afore you know what a terrible
-difference there is between words like them; can't be
-too careful, when you're a politician—for your
-country's sake, you know. No, mother—no, you
-don't—I ain't goin' to wear that long black coat."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, father," began Madeline.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But, David," his wife remonstrated, interrupting,
-"remember you're going to make a speech—and
-when would you wear it, if not to-night? I'm sure
-Mr. Craig'll have on the best coat he's got—and that
-tweed's getting so shabby."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't go back on it when it's gettin' old an'
-seedy," David retorted vigorously; "I know what
-that feels like myself. It stuck to me when I seen
-better days, an' I'm not goin' to desert it now—I
-ain't that kind of a man. An' if Craig wants to dress
-up like an undertaker, that's his funeral. Besides, a
-fellow's ideas comes easier in an old coat—an orator's
-got to consider all them things, you know. Confound
-this dickie, it won't stay down—I believe
-Madeline put 'east in it," as he smote his swelling
-bosom, bidding it subside.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sorry you're not going to stand, David; I
-believe you'd be elected if you'd only run. I always
-hoped you'd be the first mayor of Glenallen—let me
-just brush that coat before you go," and Mrs. Borland
-fell upon it with right good-will.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Words is funny things," mused David, as he
-suffered himself to be turned this way and that for the
-operation; "'specially with orators an' politicians.
-If a fellow stands, that means he's runnin'—don't
-scrape my neck like that, mother," ducking evasively
-as he spoke. "It's somethin' like what I heard a
-fellow say at the Horse Show; he says, 'the judges
-look a horse all over—them fellows don't overlook
-nothin',' says he. No, I ain't goin' to stand,
-mother; nor I won't run, neither. I'll jest sit down.
-You see, a fellow that lives in a cottage this size,
-there ain't nothin' else for him to do—not unless he's
-a fool. Don't brush my hat like that, mother; you're
-skinnin' it—what did it ever do to you? Well,
-good-bye, mother; I'm a candidate now—but I'll only jest
-be a man when I get back. I won't even be an
-orator, I reckon. Good-bye, Madeline—wrap that
-there black coat up in them camp-fire balls," he
-directed, nodding towards the rejected black.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going with you as far as the gate, father;
-you've got to have some kind of a send-off."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right, daughter; welcome the comin',
-part the speedin' guest, as the old proverb says."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Speed the parting guest, you mean, David,"
-Mrs. Borland amended seriously.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Same thing, an hour after he's gone," David
-responded cheerily; "feed him'd be better'n either of
-'em, to my way o' thinkin'," as he started forth on
-his momentous mission.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Mrs. Borland was not far astray in her prediction.
-For when at length the two candidates—and there
-were but two—ascended the platform in the crowded
-hall, David's rival was resplendent in a new suit of
-which the far-descending coat was the most conspicuous
-feature. Mr. Craig had fitting notions as to
-what became the prospective mayor of a town which
-had never enjoyed such an ornament before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And his speech was almost as elongated as the
-garment aforesaid, largely composed of complacent
-references to the prosperity the town had enjoyed as
-the product of his own. Surreptitious hints to the
-effect that only the commercially successful should
-aspire to municipal honours were not wanting. "It's
-a poor assurance that a man can manage public
-affairs, if he can't look after his own successfully," he
-said, as David sat meekly listening; "and," he went
-on in a sudden burst of feeling, hastening to the
-conclusion of his speech, "I may, I think, fairly claim
-to have been a successful man. And I won't deny
-that I'm proud of it. But, fellow citizens, nothing in
-all this world could give me so great pride as to be
-elected the first chief-magistrate of this growing
-town. I've known something of life's honours," he
-declared grandiloquently, "and I've mingled some
-with the great ones of the earth; at least," hesitating
-a little, "I did when I was a child. And just here
-I'll tell you a little incident that I can never refer to
-without feeling my heart beat high with pride." (Mr. Craig
-had no little fluency as a public speaker when
-he discoursed of things concerning himself.) "As
-many of you know, my father was a gentleman of
-leisure—and he travelled widely. Well, I can still
-recall one winter we spent in Spain—I was but a
-child—but I can remember being at a great public
-meeting in Madrid. Some members of the Royal
-family were there," he declared, as he paused to
-see the effect on the gaping sons of toil, "and I
-remember, as if it were but yesterday, how, when the
-Infanta was going down the aisle and I was standing
-gazing up into her face, she laid her hand upon my
-boyish head as she passed me. I'll not deny, fellow
-citizens, that that touch has been sacred to me ever
-since—but I say to the working-men before me
-to-night that I consider it a greater honour to hold the
-horny hand of the working-man, the hands that will
-mark the ballots that shall bring me the crowning
-honour of my life," and the candidate gathered up
-the folds of his spreading coat as he resumed his seat,
-smiling benignly down upon the rather unresponsive
-crowd.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>For many of his auditors were decidedly in the dark
-as to the source of this honour that had befallen him
-in ancient Spain.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What kind of a animal was that, Tom, that tetched
-him on the head?" one bronzed toiler asked of his
-companion as he still gazed, bewildered rather, on
-the reclining Mr. Craig. "Did he say a elephant—sounded
-summat like that anyhow, didn't it?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," the other answered, a little impatiently;
-"what would elephants be doin' at a public meetin'?
-He said 'twas a infantum—I heard him myself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's a infantum?" the first persisted earnestly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh—well. Well, it's a kind of a baby—only it's
-feminine," he explained learnedly. "An' I think it's
-got somethin' to do wi' the cholery—don't talk, there's
-Mr. Borland gettin' up. Hurrah," he shouted,
-joining in the general chorus, and glad of this very
-opportune escape.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David began very haltingly. Yet he could not
-but feel the cordiality of his welcome; and his glance,
-at first rather furtive and shy, became more confident
-as he gradually felt the ground beneath his feet. "I
-ain't much used to public speakin'," he started
-hesitatingly; "never made but one speech like this
-before. They were a little obstreperous when I began,
-but before I got through you could have—have
-heard a crowbar drop," he affirmed, to the
-delight of his audience. "I can't sling it off like
-my friend Mr. Craig, here; mebbe it's because I've
-not moved in them royal circles," he ventured as
-soberly as he could. "Though I think I've got him
-beat when it comes to rubbin' noses with the quality.
-I've done a little in that line myself—when I was a
-little shaver, too. None o' them royal folks ever
-patted me on the head—but I threw up all over Abe
-Lincoln once. Old Abe used to stop at my father's
-in Peoria when he was ridin' the circuit," David
-explained carefully; "an' once he picked me up—I
-was jest a baby—an' threw me up to the ceilin'; then
-I done the same when I came down—too soon
-after dinner, you see," he added, his words lost in
-the mirth that stormed about him. "But other
-ways, I ain't what you'd call a successful man, I
-reckon," he went on, the quotation obvious. "I've
-always been kind o' scared, ever since I was a young
-fellow, for fear I'd be too successful—that is, the way
-some folks reckon success. I knew a terrible
-successful man in Illinois one time—he was that
-successful that he got richer than any other man in the
-county. An' he got so fond o' bein' successful that
-he nearly gave up eatin'—jest to be more successful.
-He got that fond of it that by and by he wouldn't
-even spend the money for gettin' his hair cut; he
-used to soak his head, in the winter, an' then stand
-outside till it froze stiff—then he'd break it off. He
-was a terrible successful man, to his way o' thinkin',"
-David went on gravely, the crowd rocking to and
-fro in a spasm of delight. "So I think, my friends,
-I'd better jest own up I've been a failure. An' I
-thank you, more'n I can say, for wantin' me to be
-your first mayor—but I'm goin' to sit back quiet an'
-give some better man the job. For one thing, I'm
-gettin' to be an old man—an' that's a disease that
-don't heal much. Besides, I'll have enough to do to
-make a livin'. I won't deny I used to wake up
-nights an' think it'd be fine to be the first boss o' the
-whole town; but I reckon it ain't comin' my way—it
-ain't intended to be wove into my web, by the
-looks o' things. But I thank you for—for your
-love," David blurted out, vainly searching for a better
-word. "An' what kind o' gives me a lump in my
-throat, is the way I see how the men that used to
-work for me is the loyalest to me now. That's
-terrible rich pay—an' I can stand here to-night an' say,
-afore God an' man, that I've tried to be more a
-friend than a boss. Your joys has been my joys, an'
-your sorrows has been my sorrows," his voice quivering
-a little as he spoke the gracious words; "an' I
-ain't disgraced—if I did get beat in business. This
-here's far sweeter to me now than if it'd come my
-way when I was livin' in the big house, wadin' round
-knee-deep in clover. It's when a fellow's down he
-loves to find out how many true friends he's got; any
-old torn umbrella's just as good as a five dollar
-one—till the rain's peltin' down on him—an' then he knows
-the difference. So I can't do nothin' but thank you
-all, an' tell you how glad you've made me. I'll be all
-right," he concluded with heroic bearing, "I'll get
-my bite an' my sup, an' I'll go down to my rest in
-peace; an' I'm richer—far richer than I ever thought.
-It's friends that make a fellow rich; an' I intend
-keepin' them as long as I live—an' after, too," he
-concluded, turning from his chair to add the words,
-electrical in their effect.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then came a scene, such a scene as gladdens the
-heart of but one man in a generation. All sorts and
-conditions of men joined in the storm of protest,
-refusing to permit David to withdraw his name. Many,
-mostly toil-stained working-men, struggled for the
-floor. Testimonies came thick and fast, volunteered
-with glowing ardour.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He never used to pass my little girl on the street
-without givin' her a nickel or a dime—most always a
-dime," a burly blacksmith roared, his voice as powerful
-as his muscle.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Borland kept me on when times was hard," an
-old man proclaimed in a squeaky voice; "he kept
-me mowin' the grass four times a week, when
-everythin' was burnt up wi' the drooth."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He sent my little boy to the Children's Hospital
-in the city," another informed the thrilling multitude;
-"an' now he can run like a deer—it was hip-disease."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He sat up two nights hand-runnin' with Jake
-Foley when he had ammonia in both lungs,"
-imparted one of the lustiest of David's former
-workmen, "an' the next day they found ten dollars in a
-sugar jug; an' when they axed him if he done it he
-said they wanted to insult him—said it was the same
-as axin' a man if he'd been tastin'. But we ain't all
-fools," concluded the witness, his indignant eulogy
-cheered to the echo.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>After a valiant struggle the chairman secured
-order, Mr. Craig looking on with the expression that
-children wear when they see their tiny craft being
-borne out to sea. The noble electors demanded a
-vote; which, duly taken, voiced the overwhelming
-desire that David should be their man. Whereupon
-Mr. Craig, not slow to remark the signs of the times,
-possessed himself of a very imposing hat and made as
-if to leave the platform, the crowd suddenly subsiding
-as it became evident he had a word to say before retiring.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm done with municipal life from this time on,"
-he declared hotly, as quiet was restored. "I'm not
-going to enter the lists with a man that has
-proved—that hasn't proved—with David Borland," he
-concluded, floundering. "If the town can do without
-me, I guess I can do without the town."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd better go and travel abroad in them foreign
-parts, an' mebbe——" a voice from the audience
-began to advise.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's mean," David cried above the returning
-din; "that's mean—sit down, Mr. Craig," turning
-with a grace even those who knew him best would
-hardly have thought he could command.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I withdraw," Mr. Craig shouted hotly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But don't go yet," David pleaded in the most
-unconventional voice. "I don't like to see a man
-withdrawin' that way." Somewhat mollified, Mr. Craig
-resumed his seat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Loud demands for a speech finally brought David
-to his feet again. "Well, friends," he began, "I'm
-all used up. I never expected nothin' like this—an'
-I don't hardly know what to say. But I can't—I
-jest can't refuse now," he said, his words lost in a
-mighty cheer. "I didn't know you all felt that
-way—so much. An' I believe I'm gladder for—for two
-people that ain't here to-night," he said in a low,
-earnest voice, "than for any other reason in the
-world. An' I'll—I'll take it—if Mr. Craig here'll help
-me," suddenly turning towards his rival of a moment
-before. "He knows lots more about them things
-than me," moving over to where he sat, "an' if he'll
-promise to help, we'll—we'll run the show together."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There being now no other candidate, the returning-officer
-declared Mr. Borland the first mayor; and the
-vanquished, yielding to the great soul that challenged
-him, took the other's hand in his.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-journalist-s-injunctions"><span class="bold large">XXX</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">A JOURNALIST'S INJUNCTIONS</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"I don't believe we'll ever find him, Harvey.
-We have so little clue—and almost all we can
-do is wait." Jessie sighed; her life had had
-so much of waiting.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the hard part of it," her brother answered,
-"but what else can we do; it does seem hard to
-think one's own father is living somewhere, and yet
-we may live and die without ever seeing him. I've
-tried all the poor little ways I can—but they're so
-ineffectual. Yet I don't think there's ever a day my
-mind doesn't go out to him. Mother said, though—she
-said he'd come back some day."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What did she mean?" Jessie asked eagerly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," said Harvey. "That is, I don't
-know just what was in her mind. And she told me
-about his—his weakness," the brother's face flushing
-with the words. "And if I ever succeed enough—if
-I ever get rich enough, I mean—I'll begin a search
-everywhere for him; she said no father ever loved his
-children more," and Harvey's eyes were very wistful
-as they looked into his sister's.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Jessie was silent a while. "You're—you're going
-to succeed, aren't you, brother?" she said, timidly.
-"If father ever does come back—he'll—he'll find
-we've—conquered, won't he, Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's answer was very slow in coming. Finally
-he reached out and took his sister's hand; the words
-rang hopefully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I feel somehow, I don't know why, Jessie, but
-I feel somehow as if I were just at the turning
-of the tide. Nobody'll ever know what a fearful
-fight it's been—but I don't think I'll have to struggle
-like this much longer. It's like fighting in the
-waves for your life—but I think it's nearly over. I
-don't want you to go home again for a little, Jessie."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean, Harvey? Do you mean
-anything particular's going to happen?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He hesitated. "I don't know—but I think so.
-I've always had a feeling to-morrow'd be a better day
-than yesterday. I've always felt as if something lay
-beyond; and when I reached it—and passed it,
-everything would be different then."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There are few who know it—but the uncertainty of
-life is life's greatest stimulus. That is, the sense of
-further possibilities, unexpected happenings, developments
-not to be foreseen. This is true of the poor,
-the enslaved, the broken-hearted; it is no less true of
-the caressed of fortune and the favourites of fate.
-The veil that hides to-morrow's face is life's chiefesf
-source of zest, not excepting love itself. Men's hearts
-would break if they could descry the plain beyond
-and search its level surface to the end; wherefore the
-All-wise has broken the long way to fragments, every
-turn in the road, the long, winding road, a well-spring
-of hope and expectation. The most dejected heart,
-proclaim its hopelessness as it may, still cherishes a
-secret confidence that things cannot always thus
-remain; downcast and tear-bedimmed, those eyes are
-still turned towards the morrow, or the morning, or
-the spring-time—for by such different symbols God
-would teach us how ill He brooks monotony.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Especially is this true of one who struggles with
-his sin. Beaten again and again, vows turned to
-shame and resolutions to reproach, conscience and
-will trodden under foot of appetite, the wearied
-warrior still trusts that to-morrow will turn the battle
-from the gate. Something will turn up; if he could
-but get a fresh start, or if he could escape from boon
-companions, or if he were once braced up a bit, or if
-this did not worry and that beset—all these varied
-tones does Hope's indomitable voice assume. Sad
-and pitiful enough, we say; and we smile at what we
-call the weakness of poor humanity—but it all bears
-witness to that hopeful anguish which is bred of
-manifold temptations; it is the earnest expectation of the
-creature waiting for the manifestation of the sons of
-God.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Not enough snap about any of this stuff, I tell
-you, Simmons." The time was an hour and a
-half after Harvey had bidden Jessie, again Miss
-Farringall's willing guest, good-bye, and gone forth
-to his work until the midnight. The words were
-those of Mr. Timothy Crothers, city editor and
-director in chief of the </span><em class="italics">Morning Argus</em><span>. Mr. Crothers
-had taken off his collar an hour before, which
-was silently accepted by the staff as a storm-signal
-of the most accurate kind. Cold let it be without
-or hot, Mr. Crothers' sanctum soon became a torrid
-region when once he had removed his neck apparel—and
-Harvey looked up with more of expectation than
-surprise, having already witnessed the divestiture.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It makes a man hot under the collar," Mr. Crothers
-pursued wrathily, giving a phantom jerk in the
-neighbourhood of his neck, "to have stuff like this
-brought in to him; it's as dry as Presbyterian preaching."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Isn't it true, Mr. Crothers?" Harvey asked,
-calmly opening his knife and applying it to an
-exhausted pencil. "That's the first quality for news,
-isn't it?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"First qualities be hanged," quoth Mr. Crothers
-contemptuously. "And it isn't news at all—it's
-chloroform. Nothing's news that doesn't make
-people sit up; you'll never make a newspaper man till
-you learn how to spice things up—lots of pepper,
-red pepper at that. A paper that can't make 'em
-sneeze will never earn its salt."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you referring to the report I wrote of the
-game with the Scotch bowlers, Mr. Crothers?"
-Harvey enquired, nodding towards a confused cluster
-of well-scrawled pages on the table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mostly that; you don't make the thing bite.
-It's nearly all about how they played—and we don't
-get twenty bowlers here from Scotland every year."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"About how they played!" echoed Harvey.
-"What else is there?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything else. Nobody cares a fig about how
-they played. Serve up something about the Johnnies
-themselves—something real interesting. That's the
-whole thing. Now, for instance, look at some of
-this other stuff," and Mr. Crothers took a chair close
-to Harvey, settling down to business; "here you
-have an item about a law being enforced by the
-Government, to provide that all dangerous lunatics
-must be confined in asylums. Don't you see what's
-the proper thing to say about that?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Harvey. "It strikes me that's an
-occasion for saying mighty little."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing of the sort. It's a bully fine chance to
-say that this means the organ across the way will
-lose its editor. Everybody'll enjoy that, don't you see?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The editor won't," said Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, he won't—that's just the point. And
-here's another case—about the Hon. Mr. Worthing
-being struck by a street car. I notice you have him
-sitting up already. That won't do; a paper that
-cures them as quick as that won't be able to pay its
-office-boy soon. Of course, it's true enough, I dare
-say—he's probably playing billiards in his home,
-with a trained nurse answering the front door; like
-enough, he's sitting up all night going over his
-accident policies. But we've got to have him bandaged
-to the teeth—the public loves lots of arnica and sticking
-plaster—and he's struggling for consciousness—and
-he's got to be crying out every now and then as
-if he were being ground to powder; and his wife's
-going into swoons and coming out of them like a
-train running tunnels in the Rockies. Besides, we've
-got to lambaste the Company; the street-car line is
-our municipal assassin—Moloch—Juggernaut—all
-that sort of thing. But both those words should be
-in—and you can't use words like that if their victim's
-going to be down street to-morrow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You should have a staff of novelists," suggested
-Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And here—here's a capital illustration of what I
-mean," Mr. Crothers hurried on, ignoring the innuendo.
-"I see Rev. Dr. Blakeley comes out with the
-announcement that there's no such place as hell—do
-you know what I'd say there, Simmons?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd say you had no objections, I should
-think," Harvey's face lighting with unfamiliar merriment.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wouldn't—the public doesn't care a tinker's
-malediction whether I object or not. There's a great
-chance there for a civic stroke—I'd say this
-information throws us back on Blankville," and Mr. Crothers
-named with much contempt a rival city fifty miles
-away. "It's little gems like that, that make a paper
-readable. I see a fellow in that same city was
-arrested for kissing girls on the street; then he was
-examined and found insane. Well, the thing to say
-there, is, that any one who had ever seen their girls
-would have known the man was crazy. News is like
-food, Simmons—everything depends on how it's
-prepared; nobody likes it raw."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"But what about that game with the Scotchmen?"
-Harvey ventured, inwardly rather chagrined with
-the verdict on his handiwork.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you've got it chuck full of points about the
-game—and that's no good. It's got to be interesting.
-You've got to give it a human touch. There's
-one of the Scotch bowlers, for instance, old
-Sanderson from Edinburgh—they say he's worth eleven
-millions. Well, I'm told there's an old fellow that
-sweeps out a little struggling church on Cedar Street—he's
-its caretaker—and I'm told he used to go to
-school with Sanderson. Now, it's the simplest thing
-in the world to have that old geezer come around to
-the green with his feather duster in his hand—and
-Sanderson stares at him a minute; then he recognizes
-him all of a sudden, and the old dodgers fall to and
-hug each other like two old maids. And have them
-both weep—especially Sanderson, because he's rich.
-And some of those other millionaires should go off to
-the edge of the lawn and blow their nose—you
-understand—the human touch, as I said. Make
-Sanderson go home with the old geezer for supper; might
-just as well—it wouldn't hurt him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sanderson wouldn't relish the caretaker's bill of
-fare, I'm afraid," Harvey said significantly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess you're right. And that brings me back
-to the thing I intended particularly to speak about.
-Those Scotchmen were properly beaten, as your
-score-card shows. But you don't give the real
-reason—and it's the kind of a reason everybody likes to
-hear about. For all you say, any one would think it
-was a mere matter of skill. Now, of course, we all
-know the reason—it's the moist time they were
-having that licked them. Most of them were full. Of
-course, it wouldn't do to put it that way—nobody'd
-enjoy that. But it's a capital chance for some delicate
-word-painting—keep it kind of veiled. Say something
-like this: 'our genial visitors drank deep of the
-spirit that was much in evidence throughout the
-game.' Or, better still: 'our genial visitors became
-more and more animated by their national spirit as
-the game wore on—some of them seemed quite full
-of it.' Or something like this: 'in liquid prowess
-our British cousins far outran us—if, indeed, that be
-the proper verb, since many of our friends were in
-various degrees of horizontality before the game was
-finished.' You see, a description like that appeals to
-the imagination—it's subtle—keeps readers guessing.
-Or this would be a fine way of putting it: 'it was
-evident yesterday that the little finger plays an
-important part in the ancient game of bowling on the
-green'—something like that. What I'm getting at,
-Simmons, is this—there's a great chance there for
-something humorous, and a journalist ought to make
-the most of it. What makes you look so glum,
-Simmons?—I don't believe you've got much sense of
-humour yourself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey made no response. But his face was resting
-on his hand, and there must have been something
-in the plaintive eyes that engaged the attention of
-Mr. Crothers. He could hardly fail to see that all of
-a sudden Harvey had become deaf to his tuition;
-and, more remarkable, the care-worn face seemed but
-to grow graver as his monitor pursued his praise of
-mirth.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're looking rather blue, Simmons," he added
-after a keen scrutiny, Harvey still remaining silent;
-"but that needn't prevent you writing lots of funny
-things. Some of the funniest things ever written, or
-spoken, have been done by people with broken
-hearts inside of them. Take an actor for instance—doubling
-up his audience, and his own little girl
-dying at home—most likely asking why father doesn't
-come, too; queer tangled world this, my boy, and
-nobody feels its pulse better than us fellows.
-Anything the matter, Simmons?" he suddenly enquired,
-for Harvey's lips were pale; and the chief could see
-a quiver, as of pain, overrun his face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's voice had a wealth of passion in it.
-"You'll have to get some other fellow to see the
-humorous side of—of—of that thing," he said.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean? What thing?" asked the
-dumfoundered Crothers.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That drink business—God! it's no comedy," and
-Crothers started as he saw the perspiration breaking
-out on Harvey's brow, his face a battlefield, his hands
-clenched as if he saw an enemy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Crothers indulged in a low whistle, his eyes never
-moving from Harvey's face. For the veteran
-journalist was no child. He knew the marks of strife
-when he saw them; experience partly, and sympathy
-still more, had fitted him to tell the difference
-between a man sporting in the surf and a man fighting
-for his life against the undertow. And one keen
-look into the depths of Harvey's outpouring eyes
-told him he was in the presence of a tragedy. He
-rose and put his hand on Harvey's shoulder; familiar
-with tender ways it was not—but it was a human hand,
-and a human heart had laid it there.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Simmons," he said, and the usually gruff voice
-had a gentle note; "Simmons, I know what you
-mean. May as well tell you straight, I've heard
-a little—and I've seen a little, too. And I should
-have known better than talk like that to you. And
-we all believe you'll win out yet, old chap. Now I'll
-tell you what I think you ought to do. You ought to
-go away somewhere for a little trip—there's nothing
-helps a man in a fight of this kind like having his
-attention taken up with something else. I'll keep your
-place open for you here—and if you could get a
-couple of congenial fellows to go off with you for a
-little holiday you'd be like a new man when you came
-back. Strictly water-waggon fellows, of course,"
-he added with a smile. "I know it's a hard fight,
-my boy—but buckle right down to it. And you go
-right home now—you're played clean out, I can see
-that—and take a good sleep till noon. Then you
-skip out just as soon as you can arrange it and have
-a ripping good holiday; that'll set you up better than
-anything else. Good-night now—or good-morning,
-rather, I guess. And remember this above all things,
-Simmons—keep your mind diverted, always be sure
-and keep your mind diverted," with which advice
-Mr. Crothers rose to accompany Harvey to the door.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-trough-of-the-wave"><span class="bold large">XXXI</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE TROUGH OF THE WAVE</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>He was glad to be alone. Lesser conflicts
-crave the help and inspiration of human
-company; but there comes a time when a
-man knows the battle must be fought out alone against
-the principalities and powers that no heart, however
-strong or loving, can help him to withstand. For no
-other can discern his enemy but himself.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey turned with swift steps towards home. He
-thought of his waiting room, with everything that
-could contribute to self-respect and comfort; and of
-Miss Farringall, whose increasing devotion seldom
-failed to find a voice, no matter how late the hour of
-his return. But as he hurried along he marvelled at
-the strange craving that gnawed persistently within.
-The action of his heart seemed weak; his lips were
-parched; his hands were shaky, his nerves a-tingle,
-while a nameless terror, as if of impending ill, cast its
-shadow over him. And through it all burned the
-dreadful thirst, tyrannical, insistent, tormenting.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Resolved to resist to the last, he was still pressing
-steadily on. Suddenly he stopped almost still, his
-eyes fixed upon a light in an upper window. His
-heart leaped as he saw a tall form pass between him
-and the lamp. For he recognized it, or thought he
-did. The room was Oliver's—that same Oliver as had
-goaded him to that fatal toast—and it was quite a
-common experience for that worthy to be playing host
-through the small hours of the morning. A sense
-of peril smote Harvey as he looked; yet, reflecting
-a moment, he assured himself that he would find
-around that brilliant light two or three whose blithe
-companionship would help to beat back the evil spirit
-that assailed him. A chat on matters journalistic, a
-good laugh, an hour or two of human fellowship
-would give him relief from this infernal craving.
-Besides, what hope for him if he could not resist a
-little temptation, should such present itself?</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>So his resolve was quickly formed; putting his
-fingers to his mouth, a shrill whistle brought a
-familiar face to the window.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Jumping Jehoshaphat! is that you, Simmons?"
-was the exclamation that greeted Harvey as soon as
-he was recognized. "Come on up—we were just
-speaking of you. I'll be down to the door in less
-than half a minute."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The allotted time had scarce elapsed when Palmer,
-for such was the name of the cordial blade—clerk in
-a mercantile house and friend to Oliver—was at the
-door. Taking Harvey's arm he guided him cheerfully
-through the somewhat dingy hall, ushering him
-into a rather dishevelled room, in separate corners of
-which sat the hospitable Oliver and another boon
-companion, Scottie Forrester by name. Like Oliver,
-Scottie was in newspaper life; his apprenticeship had
-been served in Glasgow.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Brethren," Palmer said solemnly as they entered,
-"I know you're always glad when we can bring in
-any poor wanderer from the highways or byways. I
-want you to be kind to the stranger for my sake—he
-hasn't had anything to eat since his last meal."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, Simmons," directed Oliver. "Don't
-mind Palmer—he's farm-bred, you know, and he
-thinks it's a deuce of an achievement to sit up at
-night. He used to have to go to bed with the calves."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I sit up with the goats," rejoined the once
-rustic Palmer, producing a pipe and calmly proceeding
-to equip it. "But I ought to be in bed. I'm
-played out. I was so tired at dinner to-night I went
-to sleep over the salad course."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Lord," broke in Forrester; "hear him prattling
-about night dinners—and he never had anything
-but bread and molasses for supper on the farm. And
-hear him giving us that guff about the salad course,
-as if he was the son of a duke. If you'd lived in
-Glasgow, my boy, they'd have brought you to time
-pretty quick. A man's got to be a gentleman over
-there, I tell you, before he has evening dinners and
-all that sort of thing—did you drink out of the
-finger-bowls, Palmer?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You needn't talk, Scottie," growled Oliver. "You
-write your letters at the Arlington—and you get
-your dinner for fifteen cents at Webb's, at the counter,
-with your hat on."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're a liar," retorted Scottie, meaning no
-offense whatever. "I've got as good blood inside of
-me as any man in this city; my mother was born in
-Auchterarder Castle and——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I wouldn't be found dead in a root-house with a
-name like that," interrupted the agricultural Palmer.
-"Anyhow, I guess she was the cook—and what's
-more, nobody here cares what you've got inside of
-you. But there's poor Simmons—he's our guest—and
-he looks as if he hadn't put anything inside of
-him for a dog's age. Where's the restorative,
-Scottie? It's always you that had it last."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Scottie arose and walked solemnly to a little
-cupboard in the wall. "I'll inform you, Mr. Simmons,"
-he began gravely, his back still turned to the
-company, "that we're here for a double purpose. First,
-we were having a little intellectual conference
-on—on the rise and fall of the Russian empire, as a great
-authority put it. You see, we're a kind of a Samuel
-Johnson coterie—and this is a kind of a Cheshire
-Cheese. I was there once when I was in London."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He went to London with cattle," informed
-Oliver, striking a match—"he was a swine herd in
-Scotland."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And I'm Samuel Johnson," pursued Forrester,
-unruffled; "and Palmer, he's Boswell. And we
-have a great time discussing things."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's Oliver?" Harvey enquired with faint interest.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, I forgot him; Oliver's the cuspidor—you
-ought to be right in the middle of the room,
-Oliver," he continued amiably, turning round with a
-large black bottle in his hand. "And the other
-purpose we're here for, Mr. Simmons, is to celebrate
-Palmer's birthday. We don't know exactly how old
-he is—he's lied about his age so long that he's not sure
-himself. But this is his birthday, anyhow; and they
-sent him up a little present from the farm. It's a
-superior brand of raspberry vinegar, made by an
-aged aunt that's worth twenty thousand and won't die."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop your jack-assery, Forrester," broke in
-Palmer; "you can't fool Simmons—he's got his eye on
-the label."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Which was true enough. Harvey's eye was gleaming,
-staring, like some pallid woodsman's when it
-catches the glare of an Indian's fire.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right, Simmons," explained Forrester
-calmly; "the bottle happens to bear an honoured
-Glasgow name—and the liquid is worthy of it.
-There isn't a headache in a hogshead—try it and
-see."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's lips were white and dry. "No, thank
-you, Forrester," he said in a harsh voice that sounded
-far away. "I won't take any."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Take a little for Palmer's stomach's sake—he's
-had enough."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey refused again. Destitute was his answer
-of all merriment or banter. He stood bolt upright,
-fixed as a statue, his eyes still on the big black thing
-Forrester was holding out in front of him. "Not
-any, Forrester," he said; "I don't want any, I tell you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let him alone, Scottie," interrupted Palmer.
-"Simmons is on the water-waggon, to-night anyhow—and
-besides, that stuff's a dollar and a half a quart."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Forrester was about to comply when Oliver suddenly
-arose from his lounging position and shuffled
-out to where the two were standing. He had already
-familiarized himself with the bottle sufficiently
-to be in a rather hectoring mood.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Go and sit down, Forrester," he growled out; "I
-guess I'm the host here. And I don't blame
-Simmons for turning up his nose," he went on as he
-turned and opened a little cabinet—"poking a black
-bottle in front of a man as if he were a coal-heaver;
-we're not on the Glasgow cattle market," he added
-contemptuously, producing a couple of glasses and
-handing one to Harvey. "Here, Simmons, drink
-like a gentleman—and I'll drink with you." And
-the sweat came out on Harvey's forehead as the stuff
-poured out, gurgling enticingly as it broke from the
-bottle's mouth. "Here, this is yours; and we'll drink
-to the </span><em class="italics">Morning Argus</em><span>—it'll belong to you some day.
-I heard to-day it's going to change hands soon anyhow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The mention of the name lent a wealth of resolution
-to Harvey's wavering will. He recalled, his
-heart maddening at the memory, how Oliver had
-pressed this self-same toast before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I won't, Oliver," he said, controlling himself.
-"I don't want any."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come now, Simmons, don't be foolish; you've
-had a hard night's work, and you look all in—just a
-night cap to help you sleep."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, Oliver," Harvey's voice rising a little,
-"I guess I know my own mind. I tell you I won't
-drink. I'm under promise. I'm bound over not to
-take anything; and I've got more at stake on it than
-I can afford to lose—so you may as well shut up."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver came a step nearer. "You can't bluff me,
-old man," he said through his teeth, his heavy eyes
-snapping. "And anyhow, I'll pay it," he blustered,
-holding out the fuming glass, a leer of dogged
-cunning on his face. "I'll pay your stake, Simmons."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You go to hell," hissed Harvey, striking out
-wildly, one hand smashing the bottle in fragments to
-the floor, the other clutching Oliver by the throat;
-"you infernal blood-sucker," as he pressed him
-backward to the wall.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Palmer and Forrester sprang towards the men;
-but before they were able to interfere, Harvey had
-hurled Oliver against the table, which crashed to the
-floor in a heap, Oliver mingling with the wreckage.
-While his guests were helping him to his feet,
-Harvey strode towards the door; the accursed fumes
-rose about him like evil spirits, importunate and
-deadly, clutching at the very heart-strings of his
-will.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Pale and trembling, he turned when he reached
-the door. "Anything more to pay?" he muttered,
-nodding towards Oliver; "does he want to continue
-the argument?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver made a stifled protest, but his friends
-united to declare that the debate was at an end.
-"Come back, Simmons," appealed Palmer; "don't
-let our little evening break up like this—Oliver's got
-no kick coming. Sit down."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But Harvey uttered an inaudible malediction and
-slammed the door behind him. They could hear
-him finding his way along the unlighted hall.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You got what was coming to you, old chap,"
-Palmer informed his host; "nobody's got any right
-to badger a fellow the way you did Simmons. It's
-worse than setting fire to a barn—you're a damned
-incendiary," he concluded, resuming the smoke that
-had been so effectually interrupted.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>While the debate, thus happily begun, went on its
-vigorous way, Harvey was walking aimlessly about
-the street, caring little whither his steps might lead
-him. After the first gust of excitement had
-subsided a new and delicious sense of victory possessed
-him. Not from having worsted Oliver—that was
-quite forgotten—but from having met and conquered
-his temptation. His breath came fast as he recalled,
-how stern and sore had the conflict been; but a kind
-of elation he had never known before mingled with
-the memory of it all. For he had won—and under
-the most trying circumstances—and he smiled to
-himself as he thought how he had passed through
-the ordeal. Its most hopeful feature was for the
-future; it was a pledge of how he might hope to
-prevail if the fight should ever be renewed. Reassured,
-he even fell to thinking of other things; of his
-promise to his mother—had she seen his struggle
-and gloried in his victory, he wondered; and of
-Jessie, faithful ally; and of his profession and his
-progress in it. He recalled, as though it had occurred
-long ago, Oliver's prediction that he would some day
-own the </span><em class="italics">Argus</em><span>—and his fierce anger towards Oliver
-abated a little. Yet all this was insignificant, he
-reflected, compared to the progress he was making
-along higher lines.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>But the elation did not last. Fatigue crept upon
-him. And he was chilled; he was hungry, too.
-Besides, the nervous strain had been a severe one,
-and the reaction was correspondingly acute. Gradually
-the tide ceased to flow, then stood stationary a
-moment—then began ebbing fast. And the sense of
-victory paled and died; the thrill of exultation passed
-away; the ardour of battle and of conquest chilled
-within him. And again his lips became parched,
-his hand again unsteady, his nerves again unstrung.
-And the dreadful thirst returned. To the swept and
-garnished house the evil spirit crept back with
-muffled tread, hopeful of a better tenure.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The stoutest castle is easily taken if its lord has
-ceased to watch. Or if he be absent, the capture is
-easier still—especially if he be gone to feast on
-former battle fields where his right arm brought him
-victory.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Wherefore Harvey's second struggle was brief and
-pitiful; the enemy had caught him unawares. And
-more shrill and impatient than before was the whistle
-that sounded soon again beneath Oliver's still lighted
-window. And his welcome was not less cordial,
-Oliver himself taking the leading part.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What in thunder's the matter, Simmons?" enquired
-Palmer; "you look as if you'd been through
-a threshing machine."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey paid no attention. His blood-shot eyes
-looked about the room, searching for something.
-His hand was shaking, and every now and then he
-ran his tongue over the withered lips; the blood
-seemed to have left his cheek.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've changed my mind," he began huskily; "I'm
-not well—and I'll take some of that, if you don't
-mind. Just a little—but I've got to get braced up
-or I'll collapse."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Forrester whistled. "The spring's gone dry, old
-man," he said. "I'm cruel sorry—but it was that
-little gesture of yours that did it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's eyes looked around imploringly. The
-pungent fumes were still rising from the floor,
-goading his appetite to madness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid that's right, Simmons," added Oliver;
-"there's a teaspoonful there in the heel of the
-bottle—but it's not enough to make a swallow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is it?" muttered Harvey, starting to
-where the broken fragments lay.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He found it; and even those who had tried so hard
-to overbear him a little while before cast pitying
-glances as he stooped down, trembling, lifting the
-bottom of the bottle in both his shaky hands, lifting
-it carefully and holding it to his lips till the last drop
-was drained.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was but a few minutes till he resumed the quest.
-"Must be some more lying round somewhere," he
-said, with a smile that was pitiful to see.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Afraid not," said Oliver; "that was the last."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's in that cabinet?" Harvey urged, rising
-to his feet.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No go, Simmons, I'm afraid," muttered Forrester;
-"if there was any round, Oliver'd know it—when
-he gives up, there ain't any."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey got up and went over to Palmer, throwing
-his arm about his shoulder. "I say, old man,"
-he began, controlling his voice as best he could,
-"you don't know how bad I'm feeling. And you've
-got a flask with you, haven't you, Palmer?—I
-wouldn't ask you, only I'm feeling so tough. Had a
-hard time of it in the office to-night."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Palmer looked hard at him. "If I had a tankful I
-wouldn't give you a drop, Simmons," he said.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey winced. And he stood looking into Palmer's
-face like a guilty man, his eyes gradually turning
-away in confusion before the other's searching
-gaze. A hot flush of shame, not yet unfamiliar
-flowed over cheek and brow. But it was only for a
-moment—these better symptoms retreated before the
-flame that consumed him. "I'm going out," he said
-presently, his eyes turning heavily from one face to
-the other, his parched lips trembling.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If you've got to have it, I think I know a place
-we can get in—I'm sure I do," drawled Oliver,
-yawning. "But bed's the place for all of us."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey was all alive. "Come on, old chap," he
-exclaimed eagerly; "that's a good fellow—here's
-your hat. It won't take long," he added assuringly,
-moving towards the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>There was little reluctance on Oliver's part. And
-a few minutes later the two went out together arm
-in arm, the victor and the vanquished—but
-vanquished both. It was Harvey who clung close,
-almost fondly, to the other; no memory of Oliver's
-share in his undoing, no hatred of the assassin-hand
-tempered the flow of fellowship between them now.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The morning had not yet come. But passion's
-gust was over and sated appetite refused.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm going home," said Harvey, his voice unnatural,
-his feet unsteady.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Not yet," said Oliver—"let's make a night of it."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"A night of it!" exclaimed the other bitterly.
-"Good God, Oliver!"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come on," said his companion doggedly. "Come
-with me—we'll both see the thing through."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Come where?" said Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll see. Come down this alley here—wait a
-minute."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Three or four minutes had elapsed; they were still
-walking.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There," said Oliver, standing still; "can you
-see that light?—there, in that upper window."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He saw it. It gleamed sinister, significant, through
-the mirk; blacker than the deepest darkness was its
-baneful light.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What about it?" said Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver said something in a low voice; then he
-laughed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Simmons turned full on his companion. The
-moon was setting, but its latest beams still shed a
-fitful light. And they showed Harvey's face flushed
-and worn, the eyes unnatural in their heaviness and
-gloom. But there was a strange redeeming light in
-them as they fixed themselves on Oliver, the light of
-indignant scorn; any who had known his mother
-would have recognized something of the old-time
-light that had glowed from her face before the
-darkness veiled it.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's heavy eyes flashed as he spoke. "Oliver,"
-he said, and the tone was haughty, old-time pride
-struggling against fearful odds as the sun writhes its
-way through the mist; "Oliver, if you're going to
-the devil, you can go alone. I'm not quite gone yet,
-thank God. I'm a good many kinds of a fool, I
-know—but I'm not that kind—I'm not a sot. And
-Oliver," coming closer up to him, "I'll admit I'm as
-much to blame for to-night as you are—but we're
-done, Oliver, now. We're done with each
-other—forever. D'ye hear, Oliver?" as he turned and
-started back up the shadowy lane.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Oliver blinked after him a moment; then he went
-on towards the light, into the darkness.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="harvey-s-unseen-deliverer"><span class="bold large">XXXII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">HARVEY'S UNSEEN DELIVERER</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The succeeding day was melting softly into dusk.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>While it may be true that none can utterly
-affirm, it is equally true that none can finally
-deny, the ministry of the dead. Probably none
-altogether rejects the thought except those who
-disbelieve in the immortality of the soul. For if
-death be but the disenthrallment of the spirit, and its
-engraftment on the infinite, how thus should its
-noblest passion cease or its holiest industry suffer
-interruption? We may not know; though mayhap we
-may still receive. If beneficiaries we are of the
-unforgetting dead, we are unconscious of it—and this
-too shall swell the sum of that great surprise that
-awaits us in eternity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Some unconscious influence had brooded about
-Harvey through the day. Except for a few brief
-minutes with Miss Farringall and Jessie, during
-which neither had spoken much, the long hours had
-been spent alone. And the solitude had seemed to
-teem at times; with what, he scarcely knew. Shame
-and discomfiture and fear had thronged his heart, and
-the day was one of such humiliation as cloistered
-monk might rejoice to know. Not that he was
-conscious of the process, nor did he even inwardly call
-it by any such name as that. But he knew that he
-had been beaten—beaten, too, in the very hour that
-had thrilled with the confidence of victory. More
-than once, recounting his defects one by one, and
-recalling his frequent vows, was he on the verge of
-self-contempt; against this he fought as if for life.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As the day wore slowly by, the struggle deepened.
-A strange heart-chilling fear of the night began to
-possess him. Looking from the window of his room,
-he could see the westering sun and the lengthening
-shadows; both seemed to point the hour of returning
-conflict.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He tried in vain to dismiss this strange misgiving.
-The sun crept slowly closer to the glowing west, and
-its silent course seemed to have something ominous
-about it, solemnly departing as if it knew the peril of
-the crafty dark. He tried to read, but his eyes
-slipped on the words. Turning to one of his dead
-mother's letters, he sought the comfort of the loving
-words; but he found no shelter there, and the relentless
-thirst kept deepening in his heart. Then he
-tried to recall some of the gayer scenes of departed
-college days; their mirth was turned to ashes now.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Finally, and with a bounding heart, like a fugitive
-whose eyes descry some long-sought place of refuge,
-he bethought himself of the Bible his mother had
-hidden in his trunk when first he had left her care.
-Reverently, passionately, hopefully he made his way
-to many a tree of life within it—but its shade seemed
-riven above him and the fierce heat still searched his
-soul.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>With a stifled cry he sprang from the bed, despairing
-of reinforcement elsewhere than in his own
-beleaguered heart. He would fight it out, though the
-fight should kill him. The strange sinking fell again
-upon his spirit and the unearthly fires burned anew
-within him. His lips again were parched and his
-shaking hand all but refused to do the bidding of his will.
-He had not tasted food throughout the day; yet the
-thought of food was intolerable. What tormented
-him most was the thought, presenting itself again and
-again, that if he had but the smallest allowance of
-stimulant the pain would be at an end and the
-threatened collapse averted. But he knew how false
-and seductive was the plea, and resisted. Yet what
-could he do?—this unequal conflict could not endure.
-The perspiration stood in beads upon his brow,
-though he was shaken with chills as by an ague.
-Defiant, his resolution rallied as he noted the
-symptoms of his weakness. A kind of grim anger
-gathered as he felt the deadly persistence of his
-enemy; and his step was almost firm as he walked
-to the door of his room. He locked it swiftly,
-putting the key in his pocket, stamping his foot as he
-turned away.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>This seemed to help him some. It made him feel
-at least that he had come to close quarters with his
-destroyer, shut up alone with his dread antagonist.
-Herein was the hopefulness of the situation, that he
-had come to recognize the strength of his enemy and
-the portent of the struggle. Had he been locked in
-the same room with a madman the situation could
-not have been more real.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly a strange thing befell him. Some would
-explain it in terms of an overwrought nervous system,
-some in terms of a disordered fancy. It matters not.
-But Harvey heard, amid the wild tumult of that twilight
-hour—he heard his mother's voice. Only once it
-came—and the sweet notes slowly died, like the tones
-of some rich bell across a waste of waters—but he
-heard it and his whole soul stood still to listen. He
-caught its message in an instant; the whole meaning
-of it was wonderfully clear, and his heart answered
-and obeyed with instant gladness. For it seemed to
-point the way to rest, and victory, and healing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He glanced at his watch. There was just time to
-catch the train; and without pause or hesitation he
-unlocked the door and passed out into the street. A
-word to a servant, to allay wonder at his absence, was
-his only farewell.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>What greyhound of the seas is swift enough to
-outrun the greedy gulls that follow? And what heart,
-however swiftly borne, can escape its besetting sin?
-It may ascend up into heaven, or make its bed in hell,
-or take the wings of the morning, or plunge into the
-lair of darkness—but temptation never quits the chase.
-Thus was poor Harvey pursued as the bounding
-train plunged through the darkness towards his far-off
-boyhood home. Still the battle waged, and still the
-fangs of appetite kept groping for his heart and
-clutching at his will. But he endured as seeing
-the invisible; and the City of Refuge came ever nearer.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As they came closer to Glenallen—when they were
-almost there—peering through the dark, he caught
-now and then a fleeting glimpse of the scenes of
-other days; fences that he had climbed; elms beneath
-whose shelter he had played; braes he had roamed
-and burns he had waded and brooks he had fished,
-he smiled, as the inward pain still smote him and the
-dreadful craving burned—it seemed all but impossible
-that life could have changed so much, the evening
-shadows threatening before its noon had come. And
-he felt, in a dim unreasoning way—what other men
-have felt—as if he had been somehow tricked out of
-the sweetness of youth, its glory faded and its fruitage
-withered before he had known they were there.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The streets of his native town were hushed as he
-hurried towards his home. Nearing the familiar
-scene, he paused, standing still. He felt a kind of
-awesome fear and his head was bowed as he crept
-close to the humble door. Suddenly he lifted his
-eyes, survey ing the well-remembered outlines through
-the gloom. And suddenly they seemed transfigured
-before him, speaking out their welcome in tender
-silence as though they recognized the heart-sore
-wanderer. It was with little difficulty that he effected
-an entrance, a half-hidden window in the rear yielding
-readily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The stillness within almost overcame him. Yet
-there must have been holy power in it; for the evil
-spirit that had haunted him seemed to retreat before
-it; and his groping eyes fell now on this familiar
-thing and now on that, each an ally to his struggling
-soul. He could see but dimly, but they were all
-beautiful, each telling some story of the sacred days
-that would come no more. He felt his way through
-the little hall into the room where he had last looked
-upon his mother's face. He stood where he had
-stood before—and he looked down. Long musing,
-he turned and made his way up-stairs. As he passed
-the half-open door on his way, he could see the
-shadowy outline of the little store, as Miss Adair had
-left it for the night, the petty wares consorting ill
-with the significance of the hour. Yet the nobility
-of all for which it stood broke afresh upon him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Ascending the creaking stairs, he stopped and
-listened. It seemed as if some voice must speak—for
-silence like to this he had never known before.
-But all was still, wondrously still—this was the silence
-of death. He glanced into Jessie's room; relics of
-her sore toil were still scattered about; all was as she
-had left it when she had started on her visit to the city.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then he entered his mother's room. With head
-bowed low and with noiseless step, as devout pilgrims
-invade some holy shrine, he passed within the door.
-Then he lifted his eyes—the night seemed to stay its
-hand—and he could see here and there traces of his
-mother's life, many of them undisturbed. An apron
-that she used to wear, folded now and spotless white,
-laid aside by Jessie's loving hands; a knitted shawl
-that had so often enclosed the fragile form; the
-unfinished knitting from which the needles should never
-be withdrawn. Then he gave a great start, muffling
-a cry—for he thought he saw a face. But it was his
-own, moving in shadowy whiteness as he passed the
-little mirror—he marvelled at his timidity amid such
-scenes of love.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He sank on the bed and buried his face in his
-hands. He was trembling, yet not with fear. But
-something seemed to tell him that he was not alone;
-no tempter, no turgid appetite, no relentless passion
-assailed him now. He was safe, he felt, like some
-ancient fugitive falling breathless before a sacred
-altar—but he felt that he was not alone. Some
-unseen power seemed to be about him, an influence so
-gentle, a caress so tender, a keeping so holy as time
-could not provide. He did not seek to reason with
-the strange sensation, or to solve, or to define; but
-his soul lay open to the mystic influence in helplessness
-and hope, the ministry of the awful silence having
-its way with his broken and baffled life.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Almost without knowing it, he rose and made his
-way to the little table by the window; something
-dark lay upon it. The touch told him in a moment
-what it was—his mother's Bible, that Jessie had
-begged him to leave for her. His hand trembled as
-he took it up; it opened of itself and he peered
-downward on the well-worn page. But it was dark, and
-he could only see enough to know that one particular
-verse was gently underscored. Fumbling for a
-match, he lit it and its glow fell upon the words:</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Unto Him that is able to keep you from falling
-and to present you faultless."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The message flashed upon his soul with the import
-of eternal hope. He closed the book violently, as if
-something might escape, and sank again upon the
-bed. He felt as if God Himself had spoken through
-the shadows and the silence. His face was again
-buried in his hands, but his heart was running riot
-with its exuberance of feeling, of purpose, of hope
-from far-off fountains fed. There gleamed before
-him a vision of the reality of it all, the real truth that
-a worsted heart may find strength somewhere higher
-up, away beyond this scene of human struggle—and
-that the most stained and wasted life might yet
-become a holy thing, again presented to the great God
-whose grace had saved it, a faultless life at last.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thus he sat, nor knew how long, while the
-regenerating moments flew. He was recalled by feeling
-something fall at his feet. Stooping, he picked it
-up; it was a letter, fallen from the leaves of the book
-he held. A brief search revealed a candle on a chair
-beside the bed. This he lit, holding the fitful flame
-above the missive now spread out before him. The
-letter was from his mother and addressed to him.
-A swift look at the date explained why it had never
-been sent—she had been busy with it when he had
-unexpectedly returned the night of Madeline's party.
-His eyes burned their way over the opening sentences,
-all uneven as they were, the unsteady hand having
-found its course as best it could. And the gentle
-epistle had come to a sudden close—the letter had
-never been completed. But his eyes were fixed in
-almost fierce intensity upon the last words—probably
-the last the dear hand had ever written. "And
-I'm praying, my son," thus ran the great assurance,
-"as I shall never cease to pray, that He will make
-His grace sufficient for you and that..."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He arose, recalling where his mother was wont to
-pray. Had she not told him, and had Jessie not
-spoken of it often? Beside his own bed, he knew—there,
-where he once had slept the sleep of childhood
-in the innocent and happy days of yore; there had
-been her altar, where, kneeling before God, she had
-pleaded that the keeping and guidance of the Highest
-might be vouchsafed her absent son. Thither he
-turned his steps, his heart aflame within him; one
-hand still held his mother's Bible, the other the
-precious letter. And he laid them both before the
-Throne, sacred things, familiar to the all-seeing Eye,
-pledges of a faith that must not be denied.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The silence still reigned about the bended form.
-But it was vocal with unspoken vows, the vows of a
-soul that unseen hands, wasted once and worn but
-radiant now and beautiful, had beckoned to the
-Mercy Seat. He could not see the bending face; he
-could not know the exultation of the triumphant
-one—but he knew that the dear spirit shared with
-him the rapture of that hour when his mother's
-prayers were answered, when his soul came back to God.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="plain-living-and-high-thinking"><span class="bold large">XXXIII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">PLAIN LIVING AND HIGH THINKING</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The day slipped past in quiet solitude,
-marked by the peace of penitence and
-inward chastening; convalescence is the
-sweetest experience of the soul and the outlook to
-the eternal is its rest. Harvey felt in no hurry to
-leave the pavilion-home, thronged as it was with
-blessed memories. But when the evening fell, a
-curious eagerness quickened his steps towards David
-Borland's altered home. He had not visited it before.
-Drawing near, the first figure he descried was that
-of David himself, engaged in the very diminutive
-garden that lay beside the house. He had not
-noticed Harvey's approach. A shade of pain darkened
-the eye of the younger man as, unobserved, he
-took a keen survey of the older face. For not alone
-was David more thin and worn; his cheeks had lost
-their colour, pinched and pale, and it required no
-special acuteness to detect how changed he was from
-the robust David of former years. Suddenly lifting
-his head, Mr. Borland saw Harvey close at hand; he
-dropped the light tool he was holding, hurrying to
-greet the visitor.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're as welcome as a registered letter," he
-cried in his old hearty way; "come on an' sit down—there's
-nothin' tastes so good in a new house as an
-old friend. I've been hungerin' for a mouthful of
-you. I was jest doin' a little work," he explained—"when
-a fellow's got to work hard, nothin' makes it
-so easy as doin' a little more. I'm goin' to raise
-some flowers," he went on, pointing to a tiny bed;
-"nothin' pays like flowers—it pays better than
-manufacturin', I think sometimes. Here, sit beside
-me on the bench," for David seemed willing to rest.
-"How's Jessie?" he asked presently, his general
-observations concluded.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lovely," answered Harvey. "She's visiting
-Miss Farringall."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"So I believe. They say Miss Farringall's lovely
-too, ain't she?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey pronounced a eulogy.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's an old maid, ain't she?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose some would call her that," was Harvey's
-rather deliberate reply.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, that's all right," David assured him; "I don't
-mean no disrespect. Most old maids is reg'lar
-angels—with variations. I often tell the missus if I
-was ever left alone I'd probably marry again, out of
-respect for her—there's nothin' like an encore to
-show you've enjoyed the first performance—an' I
-always say I'd take an old maid. Of course, I might
-change my mind," David went on gravely; "most
-old fools does, takes up with some little gosling that
-ought to be in school. An' I've noticed how the
-fellows that yelps the loudest at the funeral begins
-takin' notice the soonest—they don't most gen'rally
-stay in long for repairs," he concluded solemnly,
-scraping the clay from his boot-heel as he spoke.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"If Miss Farringall's an old maid," Harvey
-resumed, "she's one of the nicest I ever knew—and
-one of the happiest too, I think."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Old maids is pretty much all happy," pronounced
-David, "that is, when they stop strugglin'—but most
-of 'em dies hard. They'd all be happy if they'd only
-do what I heard a preacher advisin' once. I was
-mad as a hatter, too."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What about?" asked Harvey wonderingly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'll tell you. It was at a funeral in a
-church—last year, I think—an' after the service was
-over he came out to the front o' the pulpit. 'The
-congregation 'll remain seated,' says he, 'till the
-casket has went down the aisle; then the mourners
-will follow, an' the clergy 'll follow them. After that,'
-says he, 'after that, the congregation will quietly
-retire.' Quietly, mind you!" said David sternly;
-"did he think we was goin' to give three cheers for
-the corpse, I wonder?" and he looked earnestly at
-Harvey for approval of his indignation. "But I've
-often thought, jest the same, how much happier
-everybody'd be, 'specially old maids, if they'd only
-retire quietly."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll have to tell that to the editor of the funny
-column," Harvey said when his composure had returned;
-"and I'll send it on to you when it appears
-in the </span><em class="italics">Argus</em><span>."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm a subscriber to that paper now," David
-said complacently; "how 're you gettin' along?—like
-the editin' business pretty good?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Fine," Harvey assured him cordially. Then he
-told, as modestly as he could, of what success he
-had achieved and of his prospects of promotion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where you got the start was goin' into it as
-soon as you left school," David averred; "there's
-nothin' like gettin' at your work early. That's why
-I advise gettin' up a little afore day—for other folks.
-You see, you'll get the hang of it—of editin', I
-mean—afore you're set in your ways. If you want to
-succeed these days, you've got to take time by the
-fetlock, as one of them old philosophers said. That's
-what makes all the difference between two fellows;
-one'll waste his time gallivantin' round, while the
-other's learnin' all about his business an' gettin' ready
-for somethin' big. Now, there's poor Cecil, for
-instance—you've heard what's come o' Cecil?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No," answered Harvey, sitting up very straight.
-"No, I haven't heard anything—has anything happened?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, nothin' terrible important. Only he's off
-for Africa—went last week. He was foolin' an'
-fiddlin' round, spongin' on his father—an' he got
-into one or two little scrapes. An' his father kind o'
-got tired of it—an' Cecil got a chance of some kind
-of a job with some company that's buildin' a railroad
-or somethin' in South Africa. An' the old man let
-him go—so he's gone," David concluded earnestly,
-"an' I reckon punchin' mules is about the highest
-position o' trust he'll be occupyin'. Let's go into
-the house."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Is Cecil going to stay long in Africa?" Harvey
-asked as they walked along.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He won't likely be back to tea very often,"
-ventured David. "Jemima! I'm so short in the
-wind now," his breath coming fast. "I don't much
-calculate he'll be back till the walkin's good—unless
-the old man fetches him," a droll smile showing on
-David's face, as they entered the little house.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Sorry Madeline's not in," Mr. Borland began as
-he sank into a chair; "she works pretty steady now,
-poor child—they say she's a reg'lar dabster at that
-wood-work. She paints chiny too," he went on,
-pride in the voice—"I think she's out at Hyman's,
-burnin' it, this evenin'. Sit down, Harvey," motioning
-towards a chair, for his guest was standing in a
-spasm of attentiveness. "It's a bit different from
-the old place, ain't it?" as he looked round the
-humble room.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's just as good," said Harvey bluntly, rather at
-a loss.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's where you're shoutin'," David responded,
-something of his old-time vigour in the tone. "It's
-jest every bit as good. When I'm settin' here in the
-evenin'—I don't work so very hard; they gave me a
-nice easy job at the office—an' Madeline's puttin' on
-my slippers or runnin' her fingers round my old gray
-head, when I shut my eyes I can't tell the difference.
-Never did set in only one chair," he mused as if to
-himself, "never did wear but one pair o' slippers,
-never did have but one Madeline to cure my
-headaches an' my heartaches an' everythin' like that.
-An' I like the lamp better'n the old sulky gas—an'
-we've got the best pump in the county," he went on
-enthusiastically—"right out there; it's far better'n
-the old tap water. So we're jest as happy, Harvey."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey smiled, and lovingly, at the beaming face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"An' I can prove it," the old man suddenly
-resumed. "I can prove it," he repeated eagerly.
-"See that fireplace there?" pointing to the hearth
-on which the wood was already laid. "Put a match
-to it, Harvey—you're younger than me. Set it
-agoin', Harvey, an' I'll show you—it's gettin' coolish,
-anyhow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey did as directed. The shavings led the
-flame upward to the little twigs, and the twigs hurried
-it on to the willing cedar, and the cedar lit the
-way to the gnarled pine knots; these opened their
-bosoms to the flame and soon the leaping tongues
-began their glad crusade against the shadows, a
-revelry of sight and sound flooding the room with
-light and music.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"There!" cried David jubilantly. "Tell me the
-difference if you can—ain't that the very same as it
-used to be in the great big house? Didn't I tell you
-I could prove it?—there ain't no difference, Harvey;
-it's jest the very same," he repeated once again,
-rejoicing in the great truth he found so difficult to
-express. "An' that's what I always trained myself to
-believe," he went on after a long pause. "I always
-believed in simple livin'—even when I had lots o'
-chance the other way. Didn't I, Harvey?" he
-pursued, gazing into the other's eyes through the
-glow.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That you did, Mr. Borland," Harvey affirmed.
-"And that's why it comes so easy to you now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That was how I knew poor Mr. Craig was on the
-wrong tack," David pursued thoughtfully. "I
-spotted the signs as soon as they began; when he
-started callin' his sideboard a 'buffy'—an' when he
-began sayin' 'blue mange' instead o' cornstarch; I
-heard him at his own table—an' callin' 'Johnny-cake'
-corn-cake—an' referrin' to the cuspidor when
-he meant a spittoon—when he began them tony
-names, I knew it was all up with poor Mr. Craig.
-When a man gets so dainty that his horses stop
-sweatin' an' begin perspirin', he ain't much good for
-common folks after that. That's why Mr. Craig
-wanted so bad to be mayor—jest that buffy idea,
-same thing," David explained pityingly. "An' then
-it wasn't long till he made the foolishest break of
-all," he went on; "d'ye know what it was?" as he
-looked enquiringly at Harvey; "you'd never guess."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No idea," admitted Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, he began takin' his dinner at supper time.
-Leastways, he began callin' it dinner—an' it's a
-terrible bad sign when a fellow begins takin' dinner
-when the dew's fallin'. His old father used to say:
-'Well, I reckon it's time to feed again,' but Craig
-always said he guessed he'd have to go home to
-dinner—an' he wasn't never the same man after he
-begun that kind o' foolishness," David affirmed
-seriously. "The only other man I ever heard
-callin' supper dinner was a terrible rich fellow from
-New York. He had a summer cottage on Lake
-Joseph; he used to bring his own doctor with him,
-an' his own minister—an' his own undertaker. An'
-he took his dinner about bedtime," David concluded
-mournfully.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Makin' out pretty good at the newspaper
-business, Harvey?" David asked presently, some
-minor themes disposed of.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey pondered. He was thinking of many
-things. "Do you mean financially, Mr. Borland?"
-he asked at length.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I reckon so; you're climbin' up the ladder a
-bit, ain't you?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm getting along pretty well, that way," Harvey
-replied. "And I think I'm getting an insight into
-the business. They say the </span><em class="italics">Argus</em><span> is going to
-change hands—but that won't affect my position at all."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Pity you couldn't get a-hold of it," said David
-reflectively. "But don't worry about that, my boy.
-Don't never be disappointed if success don't come as
-fast as you think it should. It nearly always slips
-through a fellow's fingers at the last—so don't get set
-up on it. I'm gettin' to be an old man now; an' if
-there's one thing I've learned better'n another, it's
-how a man don't have them things in his own hands.
-I believe every man's jest runnin' on the time-table
-that's laid out for him; an' he'll spoil everythin' if he
-tries too much to interfere. Often we think we're
-terrible smart. An' mebbe we are—but we find out
-sooner or later we've got to walk the plank, an' it's
-queer how we get jockeyed jest when we think we're
-at the winnin' post. We're pretty handy with the
-rod an' the reel—but God handles the landin'-net
-Himself. That's why the biggest ones most gen'rally
-always get away," and David nodded his head
-seriously as he peered into Harvey's eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd sooner win along other lines than that," mused
-Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Than what?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Than the money way. That isn't everything."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That there was a beautiful thing you done in the
-cemetery," David digressed suddenly. "That there
-was high finance."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" asked the bewildered Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You know," said the other—"your mother's
-gravestone. I didn't know nothin' about it till
-Madeline took some flowers out one evenin'. That
-was lovely, Harvey."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's voice was thick. "That was the first
-money I ever saved, Mr. Borland," he said after a
-long silence; "the only money I ever saved."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Savin's like them is holy," David said simply.
-"An' I'm goin' to tell you somethin', Harvey," as
-he braced himself for the purpose. "An' I'm goin'
-to trust you not to tell any one—not any one in the
-world."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey turned to gaze into the earnest face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know jest why it should be so hard to
-tell," David began calmly. "But it's this, Harvey—my
-day's jest about done—I ain't goin' to be here
-much longer, Harvey. No, don't now, please," he
-pleaded as he stretched out his hand towards the livid
-youth, already leaping to his feet. "Don't, Harvey,
-don't—but it's true. An' I've known it a good
-while now; the doctor told me long ago," he continued
-calmly. "My old heart thinks it's jest about
-quittin' time, it seems. An' I don't blame it a terrible
-lot—it's had a long day's work, an' I reckon it's a
-good deal like me, kind o' ready for its rest," the
-tired voice went on. "That's where the trouble is,
-anyhow," he affirmed placidly, "but I never told
-nobody—a fellow ought to burn his own smoke, I think,
-an' not let it trouble other people. But I've told you
-now, Harvey—so you won't be so terrible surprised
-when ... And besides," his voice breaking for
-the first time, "besides—I wanted to tell you
-somethin' else, my boy—I wanted to tell you—how—how
-much I loved you, Harvey—for fear—for fear I
-mightn't have another chance," as the tired face went
-downward to his hands, the hot tears trickling
-between the fingers that were so thin and worn.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The room was hushed in silence as Harvey's
-tear-stained face was bowed beside his friend. He spoke
-no word, and no touch of tenderness was felt except
-the slow tightening of his arm about the furrowed
-neck, holding the quivering form close in strong and
-silent fondness. David spoke at length. "I want
-you to come along with me, Harvey."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where?" Harvey asked in a startled voice.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, not there," said David, smiling. "You
-thought I meant the long, long road. No, not that;
-but I'm goin' to the communion, Harvey—that's
-what I meant—I'm goin' to join the church."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad," said Harvey after a long stillness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I nearly joined once afore," David went on.
-"I reckon you remember when I had that meetin'
-with the elders—kind o' run agin a snag, I did. An'
-mebbe I ain't much worthier yet—but I see it different.
-I ain't much of a Christian, I know—but I'm a
-kind of a sinner saved by grace. An' I'd kind o'
-like to own up in front of everybody afore—afore it's
-too late," he said, his voice almost inaudible.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"When?" asked Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Next Sunday," answered David. "But I didn't
-go up agin the elders this time, mind you—I
-wouldn't," he went on stoutly. "It seems to me a
-fellow ain't no more called on to tell a lot of
-elders—human elders—about them things, an' his soul, than
-he is to tell 'em about his love-makin'; so I jest
-went to Dr. Fletcher, an' I told him what I felt about—about
-Christ—an' I said I felt like I'd had a bid from
-some One higher up. An' Dr. Fletcher said no elder
-wasn't to have a look-in this time. So I'm goin',
-Harvey—an' it'd be an awful comfort if you an' me
-went together. It's quite a spell since you was there,
-ain't it, Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The fire had gone out upon the hearth. And
-Harvey spoke never a word amid the thickening gloom.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-overflowing-hour"><span class="bold large">XXXIV</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE OVERFLOWING HOUR</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The light had almost faded from the sky and
-the stealthy shadows were settling down
-about Glenallen as Harvey strode towards
-one of the hills that kept their ancient watch about
-the town. He did not know whither his course was
-tending; nor did he greatly care, for many and
-conflicting were the thoughts that employed him as he
-walked.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Still fresh and vivid, almost overpowering sometimes,
-was his sense of loss and shame. The defilement
-of his besetting sin, and the humiliation of a
-life so nearly honeycombed, and the tragedy of a
-will so nearly sold to slavery—all these had their
-stern influence on his soul. The bruised and beaten
-past rose afresh before him; and if ever human heart
-felt its own weakness, and human life its own
-unworthiness, it was as Harvey Simmons climbed that
-solitary hill amid the deepening dusk. Mingling
-with his sense of shame was the realization of all that
-it must cost him—for his manhood would refuse to
-claim what only a worthier manhood could fairly win.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Passing strange it was that at that very moment,
-the moment of true self-reproach and humiliation,
-his roving eyes should suddenly have been
-startled as they fell on two white-clad figures that
-were climbing the hill behind him. One of them he
-recognized in an instant—it was Madeline—and his
-heart almost frightened him, so violently did it leap.
-He struggled to repress the rising tide—for the test
-had come sooner than he thought—but a thrill of
-passion swept through all his frame.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Yet his resolve strengthened in his heart—the
-purpose that had been forming within him through
-many days. The resolve of a hero, too, it was; and
-the native strength of the man flowed anew, stern
-and unconquerable, as he made the great renunciation.
-Not that he loved the less; the more, rather.
-And not because he doubted that her heart answered,
-if perhaps less ardently, to his own. He saw again,
-as he had never ceased to see, the withered flowers
-in her hand. That picture he had cherished ever
-since, deep hidden in his deepest heart—patiently
-waiting, till his achievements and his station should
-warrant him to come back and drink to all eternity
-where he had but sipped before.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He knew now that this should never be. He
-thought, and swift and lurid was the image, of his own
-father, and of his mother's broken heart, and of the
-baneful legacy that had been his own—and of the
-shrouded chapter that had been so carefully kept
-from him, tight shut like the chamber of the dead.
-He knew, besides all this, that he loved too well to
-offer Madeline a life that was not intrinsically worthy;
-if accounted worthy, it could only be by the shelter
-of a living lie. Thus was his resolve taken,
-anguish-born. Yet his hungering heart cried out that it
-could not go its way in silence—this luxury at least
-it claimed, to tell its story and to say farewell.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He turned and made his way downward to the
-approaching pair. Lifting his hat as he came close, he
-spoke Madeline's name and stood still. Her surprise
-seemed to seal her lips at first, but he could see
-through the gloaming what inflamed his heart afresh.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I heard you were in Glenallen," her low voice
-began, "but I didn't expect to see you. When did
-you come? Oh, pardon me, let me introduce you to
-my friend," as she spoke her companion's name.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He removed his hat again and bowed. One or
-two commonplaces passed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where are you going?" Harvey asked abruptly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We're going to see a little girl that's sick; she
-lives on the first farm outside the town. She's one of
-my class," Madeline explained, "and I asked Miss
-Brodie to accompany me—my friend lives in that
-house yonder," pointing to a residence near the foot
-of the hill; "it gets dark so early now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll go with you myself," said Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" was all Madeline said, her voice unsteady.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll go with you myself," he repeated; "Miss
-Brodie won't mind—we'll see her home first. I wish
-to speak with you," and without further explanation
-he turned to lead the way to Miss Brodie's home.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Madeline's protest came, but it was weak and
-trembling. And her companion spoke no word
-except to give assent. For there seemed to be some
-strange authority about the silent man; something in
-his voice, or manner, or in the drawn face that looked
-into the distance through the fading light. They
-could not tell; but they followed as he led.
-Madeline's hand trembled as it made its way into her
-friend's; a moment later she withdrew it, walking on
-alone. But her bosom rose and fell with the movement
-of that eternal mystery that so many a maiden's
-heart has known, that none has ever solved. And
-her eyes were moist and dim, she knew not why;
-and now and then a strange quiver shook the graceful
-form, protesting, reluctant, half-rebellious, yet at
-the mercy of something she could neither fathom nor
-deny.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Bidding Miss Brodie good-night, they retraced
-their steps and pressed on towards the outskirts of
-the town. Perhaps both wondered why they walked
-so fast, Madeline wondering, indeed, why she walked
-at all. But there was something indescribably
-sweet about the strange mastery in which he seemed
-to hold her—and her eyes smiled, though she was
-trembling, as she looked ahead into the waiting
-shadows.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the house." These were the first words
-that broke the stillness, and they came from Madeline's
-lips—"that's where she lives," pointing to a
-distant light.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?" and Harvey turned his eyes upon her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The child I'm going to see—I told you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Silence still; and still they walked on together.
-Once she stumbled over an uneven plank. His hand
-went out swiftly to her arm, and as he touched it his
-whole frame swayed towards her. In an instant his
-hand was withdrawn; but not before a faint outbreak
-flowed from her lips. He looked down at her
-through the darkness—her face was deadly white.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't believe I'll go," she said weakly; "I'll go
-to-morrow."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He pointed into the darkness. "I want to speak
-with you," he said, striding on.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>A little murmur surged to her lips. She checked
-it. "Will you wait for me—till I come out,
-Harvey?" the last word coming slow.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What?" she said, her tone firmer, her pace abating.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot wait," he said; "you can't go in till—after."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She cast a swift glance upwards—but his eyes were
-forward bent. He pressed swiftly on. She walked
-beside him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly he paused, then stood still. He listened
-intently; no sound but the desultory barking of a
-distant watch-dog. He looked about—and the
-voiceless night seemed to contain no other but those
-twain. He could see the blinking light in the
-window, the one Madeline had pointed to; it made the
-solitude deeper, like a far-off gleam at sea.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go in here and sit down," he said, pointing
-towards a little clearance under the shadow of two
-spreading oaks that towered above an intervening
-thicket.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They stepped down from the rickety sidewalk.
-And they crossed the dusty road, neither speaking;
-and the dew glistened on their feet as they went on
-into the thickening grass—and Madeline could hear
-her poor heart beating, but she uttered never a
-word.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It is the glory of a strong woman that she
-sometimes may be weak; nay, that she must be, by very
-token of her strength. For her strength hath its
-home in love and in her capacity to love—there is
-her crown and there the well-spring of her beauty
-and her charm. Yet this knows its highest strength
-in weakness; and its victory is in surrender. And
-the greatest moment in the life of the noblest woman
-is when convention and propriety and custom—and
-the tyranny of the social code—yea, when even her
-own native pride, her womanly reticence, her insistence
-on all that a woman may demand, are defiantly
-renounced; when these all lie in ruins at her feet,
-scorned and forgotten by reason of the torrent of her
-love; when beauty's tresses lie dishevelled, and its
-robes of dignity are stained with tears, then is
-woman's wild eternal heart at its very noblest in all
-the abandon of the passion that sets it free from
-every tie save one.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Wherefore Madeline—she of the beauteous face
-and of the snow-white heart—went on with Harvey
-where he led. Down from the pavement she stepped,
-down into the earthly road, reckless of the dainty
-fabric that the dust leaped to stain; and she walked
-on into the glistening grass, and her eyes saw the
-waiting oak and the vast sky behind. And the night
-was dark, and even the distant blinking light was
-hidden; and she could hear the soft language of the
-mother bird that kept her love-taught vigil, and the
-whippoorwill's cry came in mellow waves across the
-rippling woods—and the great tender arms of the
-holy night were about them all.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us sit here," and Harvey motioned towards a
-giant log that lay beneath the oaks. "And I'll tell
-you, Madeline."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>She raised one white hand to her throat as she
-took her place; even then he noticed the delicate
-tapering fingers, so well fitted for the work to which
-her father had referred. Something seemed to be
-choking her, so long were the white fingers held to
-the soft flesh above. The other hand went out absently,
-uplifted, and she held tight to the soft-swinging
-branch of the ancient oak, for the leaves bended
-about them where they sat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, Harvey," she said. "Isn't it about
-father—didn't you see him this evening?" Commonplace
-questions enough they were; and her
-heart had clutched wildly at them as her hand had
-seized the bough above her. But commonplace the
-words were not—a surge of fire made them glow and
-gleam, to him at least, her troubled soul sweeping
-through them like a flood. For her voice was shaking
-as she asked the simple questions; and her arm was
-still outstretched as she clung to the yielding
-bough—and the white fingers still pressed the quivering
-throat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, it isn't about that," he said, his voice as low
-as the voices of the night. She never moved. But
-he heard, actually heard, her lips as they slowly
-parted—and her breath came as if she were resting
-from a race.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's about us—oh, Madeline, it's about us," he
-began, and his words came swift, as if they were
-driven out by force. "You know, you know, Madeline,
-all that's in my heart—all that's been there
-for years. Ever since I worked for your father—ever
-since we went to school—ever since that night beside
-my baby sister's grave—and since you came to see
-mother when she got blind—and since I went to college—and
-always, always, Madeline, through all the years.
-You know, Madeline, you know." Then his words
-poured out in a passionate stream, swirling like waves
-about her, and he told her what they both had known
-long, what neither had ever heard before. The
-maiden's eyes shone dim; and one hand clutched
-tighter at the crushed and broken twigs; the other
-slipped from the quivering throat, pressed now to the
-paining bosom. And the moist lips were parted
-still, but the speech that flowed between was silent
-as her listening soul.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And I've told you the worst, Madeline," he
-vowed at length. "I was determined to tell you the
-worst, before I go away, before I go away to take up
-the struggle against my sin—alone. And to win—to
-conquer," he added low. "So I'm not worthy,
-Madeline—and the future's uncertain—and I know
-it and you know it. And nobody but God can ever
-tell what it has meant to me to say all I've said
-to-night; and it's all because I love you so...
-Oh, Madeline," and the strong voice struggled in
-vain to keep on its way; too late, it broke and
-trembled, the pain and passion bursting through it
-as he bowed his head and hid his face. "So I'm
-going away," he murmured low, "I'm going away."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The sighing wind was hushed and the mother bird
-was silent and the whippoorwill was dumb.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Harvey, don't."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was such a gentle note, barely audible, like the
-first faint cry of some wood-born nestling when it
-sees the light. But it filled and flooded all his soul.
-He raised his head, so slowly, from his hands; and
-slowly he turned his face till his eyes rested full upon
-her. The moon had risen and he could see her
-beauty. Both hands were lying now in the white
-folds of her dress, and between them were the
-crushed and broken leaves, their fragrance outstealing
-from their wounds. The branch she had released
-was still swaying to and fro. But Madeline saw it
-not; nor aught else beside. The veiled and glistening
-eyes were looking far beyond; he could not tell
-whether they were fixed on the darkling thicket or
-on the crescent moon. But while his gaze stole
-upward to her face a night-bird in the thicket piped
-softly to its mate—and he saw her eyes search the
-frowning shade. Then they were still. But he
-could see the radiance on cheek and brow, and he
-felt the life-stream that her eyes outpoured, aglow
-with the emotion of her soul. Her bosom rose and
-fell, nor did she seem to know—again and yet again
-the candour of her love spoke thus. And while he
-looked she slowly turned her head. He noted, even
-then, and in the gathering light, the wealth of lovely
-hair, the fair purity of her forehead, the mystic lure
-of her quivering lips, the throb that beat swiftly in
-her throat, soft and white like the lily's bloom—but
-they all were lost in the glory of her wondrous eyes.
-These were transfigured; surrender, conquest, yearning,
-pity, pride, the joy of possession and the rapture
-of captivity—all that unite to make that mysterious
-tide called passion, looked their meaning from her face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Her breath, fresh from the parted lips, floated
-outward till it touched his face—and to him
-spreading oak and whispering grove and shadowy thicket
-and crescent moon had ceased to be. He saw her
-eyes alone, his soul swimming towards them through
-the torrent; his finger-tips touched her shoulders
-first—and she was there—and the soft form yielded,
-and the glory slowly faded as the eyelids fell, and
-the fragrance of her breath made life a holy thing
-forever as he drew her into the strong shelter of his love.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="into-his-house-of-wine"><span class="bold large">XXXV</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">"</span><em class="bold italics medium">INTO HIS HOUSE OF WINE</em><span class="bold medium">"</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>They came up the little hill together. And
-many eyes were turned on them in wonder
-as they went up the aisle, David still leaning
-on the strong man beside him. It was Robert
-McCaig who took the token from Mr. Borland's
-hand, and his own told its welcome by its lingering
-clasp.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They were almost at David's pew, Madeline and
-her mother already seated there, when Harvey stood
-still and whispered. "Let us go to my mother's
-seat," he said.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David's assent was quick and cordial. He knew
-the sacrament of love; and the look with which
-Madeline and her mother followed them showed that
-they recognized the higher claim.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Very beautiful was the service of that holy hour.
-The opening psalm breathed the spirit of penitence
-and trust. When Dr. Fletcher rose to pray, his
-face was illumined with such joy as there is in the
-presence of the angels when a new star swims into
-the firmament of heaven. And his prayer gave
-thanks for the cloud of witnesses that compassed
-them about, and for those who had gone out from
-them along the upward path of pain.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Wonderful stillness wrapped the worshippers about
-as the elders went slowly down the aisle with the
-symbols of redeeming love. It was not his
-accustomed place, but Geordie Nickle bore the bread
-and wine to where David and Harvey sat. His eyes
-shone with a great light as he placed the emblems
-first in David's shaking hand; and the moist eyes
-were upturned to God; and his lips moved while
-he stood before them in the grand dignity of his
-priestly office. The compassion glowing on his face
-was worthy of the Cross.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David and Harvey bowed their heads together,
-the old man and the young. The one was touched
-with the whitening frost of years, the other with the
-dew of youth. But their lips were moist with the
-same holy wine and their hearts were kindred in
-their trembling hope. Before them both arose the
-vision of a Saviour's face; but the old man's thought
-was of eternal rest, and the other's was of the
-battling years beyond.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's mind flew quickly over all the bygone
-days. Love and loneliness, conflict and respite, hope
-and despair, victory and overthrow passed before
-him—and all seemed now to have conspired towards
-this holy hour. He felt that the way had been
-chosen for him amid life's perplexing paths; that an
-unseen Hand had been at the helm; that the prayer
-and purpose of another's life had led him back to
-the path from which he had departed, fulfilling the
-design of an All-wise Sovereign Will.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David gave a little start of surprise when
-Dr. Fletcher announced the closing hymn.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He done that for me," he whispered to Harvey;
-"he knows it's mine."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They rose to sing the noble song. The great
-words rolled slowly out from many reverent lips:</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>"The sands of time are sinking."</span></div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>It was when they came to the soul's great boast</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>"With mercy and with judgment</span></div>
-<div class="line"><span>My web of time He wove,"</span></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>that Harvey turned his eyes towards David; and his
-heart melted as he saw the tears rolling down the
-withered cheeks. David's head was bowed, for it
-hurt him sore that men should see. But there had
-come about him such a tide of feeling—all his
-chequered life rising up before him—and such a
-sense of the abundant grace that had made the
-shadows beautiful with light, that his soul dissolved
-in gratitude to the Hand that guided and the Heart
-that planned through all the labyrinth of years.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Other lips were still, and Harvey's among them,
-when they reached the closing lines:</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>"Amid the shades of evening</span></div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line"><span>While sinks life's lingering sand</span></div>
-</div>
-<div class="line"><span>I hail the glory dawning</span></div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line"><span>In Immanuel's land."</span></div>
-<div class="line"> </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>But those who were beside him marvelled at the
-strong rich tones with which David sounded the
-exultant note. His voice was no more the voice
-of age; and the scars of battle had vanished from his
-face. Strong and victorious came the swelling
-strain, and his uplifted eyes had the glow of
-unconquerable youth. He had caught the lights of
-Home.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="a-mistress-of-finance"><span class="bold large">XXXVI</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">A MISTRESS OF FINANCE</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"Some men are born lucky—and some get
-lucky—and some have the confoundedst
-kind of good luck thrust upon them," affirmed
-Mr. Crothers, nodding towards a letter in
-Harvey's hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm just going to read this over once more; it
-really seems too good to be true," was Harvey's
-rather irrelevant reply, his eyes fastened again upon
-the letter.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You're dead right. If any one had told me, that
-night three months ago—you remember our conversation
-then—that you'd be given a position like that
-so early in your career, I'd have laughed at them.
-I don't think I ever knew a man get as quick
-promotion in the newspaper business as you've had,
-Simmons. I really don't. But then you've got the
-education—and the material above the eyes—and
-that's the whole outfit. Well, I can't do any more
-than congratulate you, old man," and the sincerity
-of Mr. Crothers' words was evident as Harvey looked
-across the table into the deep-set eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You've had more to do with it than anybody
-else, I'm sure," Harvey returned; "and I'll do all I
-can to make good. I'll expect you to——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll tell you something I've been thinking of for
-quite a while," the other broke in, lowering his voice
-and leaning far over the table. "If we could only
-get a hold of the business—the paper, I mean—the
-whole box and dice! The thing's going to change
-hands, as you know; everybody has known that, since
-the president got the collectorship of customs—and
-it would be worth more to us than to anybody else.
-We could run it to the Queen's taste—the whole
-shooting-match. But I suppose there's no use
-talking—can't make bricks without straw. Of course,
-I've saved a little chicken-feed—not enough, though—there,
-that's my total," as he pencilled some figures
-on a blotting-pad and passed it over; "and if you
-could duplicate it—or a little better—we'd have the
-thing in our mitt. But I suppose there's no use
-thinking about it?" looking rather eagerly at Harvey,
-nevertheless.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Out of the question," answered Harvey decisively,
-leaning back in his chair; "you can't get blood
-from a turnip, or, as Geordie Nickle, a Glenallen friend
-of mine, would say, you can't take the breeks off a
-Hielan'man. I haven't any money, that's the English
-of it. Of course," a tinge of pleasure in the tone,
-"I'll have a pretty good salary now—but what's that
-for a plunge like this?" as he pushed the blotting-pad
-back across the table.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"About as good as a dozen of eggs for an army,"
-Mr. Crothers agreed disconsolately. "Oh, well, we'll
-just have to make out the best we can—but I'm
-mighty glad of your good luck, old man, just the same."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Both men turned to their work. Harvey's first
-move was to ring for a stenographer. But he
-changed his mind. "I won't need you for a few
-minutes," he said; "I'll write this one myself."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The letter closed as follows: "... So it's
-come at last, sister—and your days of drudgery are
-past. They will always be a sacred memory to me,
-for I wonder if any man ever came to his own
-through as noble sacrifice as has filled all your life
-for me, yours and mother's. Now, Jessie, be sure
-and do as I've told you. Sell your business—lock,
-stock, and barrel—or give it away; make Miss Adair
-a present of it, or rent it to her, or anything you like.
-Only one thing remember—you'll rest now, and all
-my good fortune will be spoiled unless you share it
-with me.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<dl class="docutils">
-<dt class="noindent"><span>Your ever loving</span></dt>
-<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>"HARVEY."</span></p>
-</dd>
-</dl>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>Even Grey started with surprise when Harvey
-arrived home that night an hour earlier than usual.
-And Miss Farringall's face brightened suddenly as
-Harvey's knock at the door of her sitting-room was
-followed by the appearance of a very radiant face.
-He had a letter in his hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I want to speak first," she said impulsively,
-divining his purpose.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Miss Farringall," he said enquiringly.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's something I've wanted to ask you for a long
-time—and I'm going to do it now," she added very
-softly, rising and moving to the window; "did your
-mother ever—did she ever speak to you about your
-father, Harvey?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's answer was slow. "Yes," he said at length.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you know he's living?" she asked after a
-long pause.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," and Harvey's voice was little more than
-audible. "My mother told me that when she was
-dying. Why?" he asked resolutely, moving to
-where she stood.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I only wished to know, dear," and her tone
-breathed gentleness as she turned and fixed her
-pensive eyes on his. "I knew he was living, and——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Where—do you know where?" he broke out,
-almost with a cry. "My mother didn't know, and——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't know where," she interrupted, her eyes
-now looking far without; "but I know he's living yet.
-We'll both know more some day—what's in that letter,
-Harvey?" the voice betokening that the subject
-was dismissed, at least for the present.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"It's something you'll be glad to read," he answered
-absently as he handed it to her.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Deep silence reigned a while.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I knew it, Harvey," she said when she had
-finished. "I expected this—I was waiting for you to
-come home. I wanted to see you very much. Can
-you think what for?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," Harvey answered abstractedly,
-musing still.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Barlow," she called.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," a sepulchral voice answered from the
-hall, followed a moment later by the apparition of the
-never distant servant.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"You know the vault, Barlow?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," replied its guardian of years.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And the box in the lower left-hand corner?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"And the paper we deposited there yesterday?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That Dr. Wallis helped me to draw?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Then bring it to me at once."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," and Barlow turned in his tracks as
-he had done for a quarter of a century.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He was back in a moment. "You can go now,
-Barlow—and shut the door. Take Grey, and don't
-stand outside. Go and count the spoons."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mum," and the immobile Barlow departed
-to make the oft-repeated inventory.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I expected this to come, Harvey," she began as
-soon as they were alone. "I know the president of
-the </span><em class="italics">Argus</em><span>—or of the company, or whatever you call
-it. I'm not such a hermit as some people think.
-But I've been wishing for something better for you,
-Harvey—can you guess what it is?" her words
-ending in a nervous little cough.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's face showed how innocent he was of any
-such knowledge.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, it keeps running in my mind that you
-ought to own that paper."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey gave a little laugh. "That's what
-Mr. Crothers was saying," he began confusedly; "he
-thinks we could do wonders if we had it between us—but
-of course it's out of the question. It would
-cost—oh, I don't know how much."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I know all about that," and Miss Farringall's
-cheek had a strangely heightened colour. "I've
-looked into all that," she added in a low tone; "and
-do you think you could? Would Mr. Crothers really
-make a good partner?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey stared. "He's a jewel, Miss Farringall,
-every way—but why do——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Excuse me," Miss Farringall interrupted with
-authority. "Let me proceed. I want to make an
-investment. I want to buy a business that belongs
-to you and Jessie. Sign that paper, please," as she
-handed him the document Barlow had brought.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Amazement took possession of Harvey as he read.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Close your lips, Harvey—when you're excited,
-breathe deep; it's a great sedative," and Miss
-Farringall smiled as she watched his face.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey laid the paper down with a gasp. "But,
-Miss Farringall," he began excitedly, breathing as
-best he could, "the proposition is preposterous—a
-sum of money such as this for a paltry outfit like
-that little store in Glenallen! The whole thing isn't
-worth——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Be careful, Harvey Simmons, be careful, now,"
-Miss Farringall broke in sternly. "You haven't
-read the agreement. Maybe the price does look
-big—but did you see all I'm to get in return?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey shook the document excitedly. "You
-ask the business—the stock, and the good-will—and
-neither the one nor the other's worth one tithe
-of——"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait a minute," broke in the prospective
-purchaser; "I ask more than that. The vendor goes
-with the sale," she announced, rising to her feet.
-"It's that way in the paper—Jessie goes with it; I
-buy her too. I can do what I like with the
-business—and Jessie comes to me. Yes," she cried, her
-voice shaking in its eagerness, "that's what I want
-the most—and Jessie's willing. I've found that out
-top—and she's to be mine, to keep and care for.
-And she's to be shipped here, right side up with care,
-and she's to give me value for my money every time
-I see her sweet face and hear her merry laugh. I've
-spent a lot repairing this old house—but that's the
-kind of repair it's been needing for long years, and
-it's going to get it now. When you get the purchase
-money you can invest it as you like; it'll be your
-own—only sign, Harvey, sign now. I've got the
-price all ready," her voice ringing with merry music
-as she brandished a bulky envelope before his eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey gazed long into the triumphant face. Then
-he moved slowly up to her, holding out his arms,
-and she put her own about his neck with hurrying,
-passionate eagerness and held him tight. When,
-released, he looked again into the flushed and
-quivering face, the swimming eyes seemed not to see his
-own, fixed in yearning on the silent desk that held
-the secret of the years.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-conqueror-s-home-going"><span class="bold large">XXXVII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE CONQUEROR'S HOME-GOING</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"You're wanted on the long-distance line,
-Mr. Simmons; Glenallen wants to speak
-with you," was the message that interrupted
-Harvey and Mr. Crothers in the midst of a
-very delightful conference; the future of the </span><em class="italics">Morning
-Argus</em><span> was the subject of discussion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Somebody wanting to congratulate you," ventured
-Mr. Crothers; "tell them the new firm's flourishing
-so far," a smile of great satisfaction on his
-face. The fulfillment of the ambition of half a
-life-time had filled Mr. Crothers' cup to overflowing.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Five minutes later Harvey had returned, the
-gladness vanished from his eyes.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the matter, Simmons?—nothing gone
-wrong, I hope."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I've got to leave within ten minutes," Harvey
-answered, stooping to arrange some scattered papers
-on his desk. "I'll just have time to catch the
-Glenallen train. The dearest friend I have in the world
-is dying, they tell me—and he wants me."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?" asked Mr. Crothers, rising from his seat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Borland—David Borland. You've often
-heard me speak of him."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Crothers' countenance fell. "I should think I
-have; I almost feel as if I knew him, you've given
-me so much of his philosophy. I always hoped I
-might meet him—what's like the trouble?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Heart," said Harvey, unable to say more.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That was where his homely philosophy came
-from, I should say," ventured Mr. Crothers; "it's the
-best brand too."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey nodded. A few minutes later he was gone.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>The evening sun was prodigal of its beauty. And
-once, when Harvey lifted up his eyes to look, he
-could see the flashing windows of David's old-time
-residence, its stately outlines showing clear against
-the sombre trees behind. But the little house on
-which his eyes were fastened now—where a great
-soul was preparing for its flight—seemed far the
-grander of the two. For it was clothed with the
-majesty of things invisible and the outlook from its
-humbler windows was to the Eternal.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He entered without knocking; and Mrs. Borland
-was the first to meet him.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He's sinking fast," she said, greeting Harvey
-with a warmth he had not known before. "He can
-still speak with us, though—and he's been asking for
-you."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's with him?" asked Harvey.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Just Madeline. We sent for Dr. Fletcher—but
-he's away, attending some meeting of ministers.
-Mr. Nickle's coming, though—he'll soon be here now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey stood a minute at the door before he
-entered David's room. Madeline looked up and
-smiled; but her father's eyes were turned away, fixed
-on the distant hills. The gaze of the younger man
-rested long and lovingly on the pallid face upon the
-pillow. Never had David looked so grand before.
-The thin, responsive lips; the care-worn face,
-compassion and sympathy in every line; the crown of
-silvery hair, so whitened since Harvey saw it last;
-the large, far-seeing eyes, homes of the faith and hope
-that had upborne his life and made it beautiful,
-out-gazing now beyond the things of time, calm with the
-last long peace—all these gave to the face that
-spiritual beauty which is the handiwork of God.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey drew closer to the bed. David slowly
-turned his head; his eyes met Harvey's, and he held
-out his hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I knew you'd come," he said gently; we're all
-together now—all but Geordie."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey's answer was a warmer pressure of the
-wasted hand.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"The sands is runnin' fast," David said with a faint
-smile—"the battle'll soon be done. An' I'm pretty
-tired, Harvey."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey was still standing by the bed, bowed, still
-holding David's hand. And the dying man could
-see the tears that were making their way down the
-quivering cheeks.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, Harvey," he implored; "this ain't no time
-for that. Madeline, read that bit again."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The girl lifted the Bible from the bed. "She
-knows the place I want—it's John the fourteenth,"
-David said, his face turned to Harvey's. "We love
-all the places—they're all beautiful. There's lovely
-shade in the Psalms when the hot sun's beatin' down—an'
-it's all good; but John the fourteenth's like a
-deep, clear spring, an' that's where we stay the
-most—weary travellers loves a spring," and the dying man
-turned his eyes eagerly on the book Madeline had
-opened.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Let not your heart be troubled.... In My
-Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so
-I would have told you." Thus flowed the stream of
-love; and David closed his eyes, drinking deep indeed
-of the living tide.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Ain't that beautiful?" he said, his voice thrilled
-with passionate gladness. "I like that about the
-mansions the best, I think. Everybody loves a
-mansion. I got turned out o' one—the one our Madeline
-was born in; but this'll be a far better one, an' me an'
-Madeline an' mother'll live there always, an' nobody
-can't ever turn us out. It's our Father's," he added
-reverently.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Borland was bending over him. "Don't
-talk, David," she pleaded; "it's too much for your
-strength."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He gazed up at her. "I want to give a—a
-testimony—afore I go," he said falteringly. "I jest want
-to own up that I always loved God—lots o' folks
-didn't think so—an' He always loved me, an' picked
-the path for me. An' He made everythin' to happen
-as it did; an' I believe I'm thankfuller for the things
-I didn't want to happen than for the ones I did—He
-seen the best, 'cause He was higher up. Madeline,
-sing for me," he appealed with failing breath; "sing a
-children's hymn—that one about the river," his eyes
-gently closing as he lay back upon the pillow.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He always loved that one," his wife whispered
-brokenly to Harvey. "It's so simple. We can't,
-David," as she bended over him, "we can't sing now."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I can, mother," and Madeline's voice was firm.
-The others' eyes were hidden, but Madeline's were
-fixed steadfastly on her father's as the crystal notes
-came low and sweet:</span></p>
-<blockquote>
-<div>
-<div class="line-block outermost">
-<div class="line"><span>"Soon we'll reach the silvery river</span></div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line"><span>Soon our pilgrimage shall cease;</span></div>
-</div>
-<div class="line"><span>Soon our happy hearts shall quiver</span></div>
-<div class="inner line-block">
-<div class="line"><span>With the melody of peace,"</span></div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</blockquote>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>and the dying lips broke in once or twice in a
-plaintive effort to swell the triumph strain.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The singing ceased. But David's eyes still rested
-on his daughter. Then they were turned on Harvey,
-as he stood beside her; they seemed, indeed, to rest
-on both at once. And their meaning could be easily
-read. Suddenly he motioned them down beside him;
-the girl was trembling, her pale lips quivering slightly,
-for she had interpreted her father's look.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David feebly raised his hands till one touched each
-bended head. "You'll sing that hymn—that river
-hymn—often, together—won't you; in your—own
-home," drawing the bowed heads closer down—"in
-your happy home?" he faltered.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment neither moved nor spoke. Then,
-in strong and passionate silence, Harvey slowly lifted
-his face till his eyes spoke their great vow to the
-dying man; and, unashamed, he placed his arm
-gently, resolutely, about the maiden's bended form,
-holding her close with a fondness that kindled all
-his face with light. But Madeline's was hidden, her
-head still bended low.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David's face was wonderful in its glow of love and
-gladness. Suddenly his gaze went out beyond the
-plighted pair.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Geordie!" he said, the name breathed out in
-tenderness as his misty eyes saw the well-loved form
-coming slowly through the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The aged man came over, leaning heavily on his
-staff, his face suffused with a gentleness that flowed
-from his very heart. He bended low above his
-dying friend, dumbly groping for his hand. He still
-leaned heavily on his staff, for his outgoing pilgrimage,
-too, was close at hand. And the two men looked
-long without a word; the memories of happy years
-passed from soul to soul; in silence their eyes still
-rested on each other, but the troth of many years
-was plighted once again as they stood at the parting
-of the ways. And both knew the promise was to all
-eternity.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Slowly David drew the strong Scottish face down
-beside his own. Then he said something in a tone
-so low that no other ear could hear; Geordie's answer
-was in a trembling whisper—but both spoke a
-language not of time.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Lift me up, Geordie—Harvey, lift me up,"
-David's feeble voice broke out a moment later. "I
-want to look once more," his eyes turning to the
-window. The sun had set, and the gilded west was
-bathed in glory as they tenderly lifted the wasted
-form, the weary head resting on the bosom of his
-child.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>David's eyes, wondrously lightened now, rested
-long on the crimson pathway. "It's a lovely road
-to go!" he murmured, gazing at the lane of light.
-"I'm glad I'm not goin' in the dark—things looks so
-strange in the dark. An' I'm glad..."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>It was Geordie Nickle who bended low, as though
-he were love's best interpreter, passionately listening
-for the ebbing words. The receding tide flowed back
-in a moment, and David's voice came clearer: "An'
-I'm glad it's the evenin'—things looks clearest in the
-evenin' or the mornin'—it's the long afternoon that's
-dark."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Geordie was almost on his knees beside him, the
-strong Scottish face wrung with its depth of feeling.
-"Oh, David," he cried with the eagerness of a child,
-"ye'll sune be hame. An' we're all comin'—we'll
-no' be lang. An' oor Faither's hoose has mony
-mansions—if it were na' so..." but the
-choking voice refused.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"He'd have—let us know," the dying man added
-gently, completing the mighty promise. "It's
-gettin' dark," he whispered suddenly, looking up into
-Madeline's eyes; "it's time for Him to come—I don't
-know the way."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>In a moment his whole expression had undergone
-a change, such a change as comes to darkening
-hill-tops when the morning sun loves them into life.
-Light covered his face as with a flood. The weary
-eyes opened wide, the eager hands outstretched.
-"It's all bright now," he faltered—"an' He's
-comin'—He's comin', like He said. I knew—He'd—come."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They were bending low about him; his weeping
-wife breathed a long farewell. But Madeline saw the
-last movement of the dying lips, and the yearning
-eyes seemed to bid her listen. Her face was veiled
-with reverent love as she stooped to catch the parting
-breath; it came, and her face became transfigured
-as by the light of God.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm jest home," she heard him murmur; "I'm
-jest home."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Gently they let the dear form sink back to its long,
-long rest. Geordie softly closed the eyes, never to
-give their light again. Then the aged man, his frame
-shaken with the sobs he could not repress, bent down
-and kissed the furrowed brow.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"His battle's past," he said, the words struggling
-out like driftwood through the surge, "an' he was a
-guid soldier."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>And the conqueror lay in noble stillness, the glory
-of the departed day abiding on his face.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst" id="the-fleeing-shadows"><span class="bold large">XXXVIII</span></p>
-<p class="center pnext"><em class="bold italics medium">THE FLEEING SHADOWS</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>It was long after midnight, and Harvey's night's
-work was almost done. He was the last one
-left in the office, and, as far as his duties were
-concerned, everything was almost ready for the
-waiting press. He had just snapped his watch with an
-exclamation of surprise at the lateness of the hour
-as he hurriedly turned to conclude his writing, when
-he fancied he heard a noise on the step outside his
-office door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He thought nothing of it; and the pen flowed
-faster than before. But only a couple of minutes
-more had passed when a similar sound fell upon his
-ear. And it disturbed him strangely. Perhaps he
-was nervous, for the strain of the night's work had
-been severe enough—and he was alone. The sound,
-to his ears at least, had something unusual and
-ominous about it—yet he knew not why.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He turned again to complete his work, his glance
-searching the room a moment before he did so. But
-the disturbance had come from without—the room
-was just as his associates had left it. He tried to
-concentrate his attention; yet a strange feeling
-possessed him—he felt in a vague, restless way, as
-though he were being watched. His office at the
-very top of the building was almost lonely in its
-separation; from the half-open windows the sleeping
-city might be seen, wrapped in the trailing garments
-of the dark. His mind seemed strangely sensitive,
-a-quiver almost, as if some influence were borne
-in upon him from the haunted chambers of the night.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly, impelled by some mysterious impulse,
-he flung his pen upon the table and turned his gaze
-over his shoulder with a swift motion, fixing his eyes
-on the large pane of glass that formed the upper
-portion of the door.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Involuntarily he uttered a startled cry—for he
-could see, two or three inches from the pane, a
-human face. And the eyes were wide, and fastened
-upon him with almost fierce intensity. The bearded
-face was pallid and haggard—but the eyes were the
-outstanding features, gleaming with a nameless
-significance that spoke of a soul stirred with passion.
-They never flinched—even as Harvey sprang from
-his chair they did not turn away. Nothing could be
-seen but the face—and the impact of the unmoving
-eyes was terrific.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey stood a moment, trembling. The face
-never moved. Then he strode swiftly to the door
-and flung it wide.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What's the meaning of this, sir?" he demanded
-sternly. "What's your business here?"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The man's eyes moved only enough to wander
-slowly about his face. He waited till Harvey's lips
-were framing other words, his hand now on the door
-as if to slam it shut. Then he walked slowly in, his
-face still turned upon the other's. He shut the door
-himself.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I want you to look at something," said the
-man, and the voice was deep and passionate.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>He was clad in the meanest garments; poor
-repairs were on them here and there. The signs of
-poverty were everywhere about him, and his whole
-appearance was that of one who had suffered much
-amid the billows of misfortune. He seemed to be
-struggling hard to resummon something he had lost—the
-quivering lips and the despairing eyes told that
-he had been beaten in the fight, yet not without
-stern resistance, nor yet left without flickerings of
-the old-time fire. His spirit seemed broken, yet not
-utterly destroyed.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you doing here? What's your
-business?" Harvey demanded; the man was
-fumbling in the pocket of his coat.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm a printer," he answered, "and one of your
-foremen gave me work to-day. I only began
-to-night—and I came upstairs to see you. </span><em class="italics">I knew
-you were here.</em><span>"</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Something in the way he uttered these last words
-clutched at Harvey's heart. "I knew you were
-here," the man repeated, nodding his head slowly,
-his eyes again on Harvey. And they seemed to
-melt with a strange wild longing, following him with
-a kind of defiant wistfulness. Somehow, like a
-faint and fleeting dream, Jessie's face—or an
-expression Harvey had often seen upon it—passed like a
-wraith between him and the bearded man.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are you?" he said huskily.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The man's eyes rested a moment on the floor—and
-he was trembling where he stood. Slowly he
-raised them till they rested on Harvey's pallid face.
-Then they looked long and silently at each other,
-the dread and voiceless dialogue waging—that
-awesome interchange of soul with soul that makes men
-tremble, when eyes speak to answering eyes as
-lightning calls from peak to peak.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm your father," the low voice said at last, the
-deep eyes leaping towards him in a strange mastery
-of strength and passion.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey gave a cry and started back. The man
-followed him, straightening as he came, the
-hungering face out-held a little, pursuing still. The
-younger man retreated farther, gasping; and his
-eyes, like something suddenly released, raced about
-the unkempt form, surveying boots and clothes and
-beard and brow in an abandonment of candour.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no," he murmured as he kept creeping back,
-the man following still; "no, no, it cannot be."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>The stranger's hand was outstretched now.
-Something whitish was in it—and something black.
-"Look," he said, his lips parting in a weird, unearthly
-smile, "look, and deny it if you can; it's a
-photograph—and a letter."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey stood still; then took them from the
-outstretched hand. The gas jet was just above. He
-read the letter first—it was his mother's handiwork.
-And the letter breathed of love, and hope, and of
-impatient joy at their approaching wedding-day.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Then he held the sharp-edged tin-type up before
-him. And then he knew. For his eye fell first on
-his mother's face, sweet with the new-born joy of
-motherhood. And a laughing babe was in her
-arms—and the man beside her, one hand resting on her
-shoulder, was the man whose panting breath he
-heard, whose burning eyes were fixed upon him now.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"That's you," the man said hoarsely; "and that's
-your mother—baby wasn't born. And I hadn't ever
-drunk a drop then," he added, a bleating cry
-mingling with the words.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey stood long, looking down. Once the
-stranger put out his hand—but he drew back with
-the picture, gazing still. The tide of battle rose and
-fell within him. Then his hand shook like an aspen,
-his whole frame trembled, his sight grew blurred and
-dim. Yet through the gust of tears he looked again
-upon the haggard face—and again, more clearly than
-before, something of Jessie's swam before him. A
-moment later, and his soul, surging like the ocean in
-a storm, went out in primal passion to the quivering
-man; swiftly, overmasteringly, as if forevermore, he
-took him in his arms.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>*      *      *      *      *      *</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>"If you'll help me, my son—if you'll help me, I'll
-try again." The flickering gas jet still gave its light
-above them and the silent stars still watched the
-sleeping city. And the son still held his father in
-the clasp of a long-slumbering, new-awakened love.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"We'll fight it out together—and we'll win," the
-lips of youth replied. "I know all about it,
-father—and I'll help all I can. I promised mother—I
-promised to bring you, father. Mother's waiting; and I
-said we'd come together—and Jessie, too."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"Will Jessie love me?" the broken voice enquired,
-the tone plaintive with mingled love and fear.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"She's always loved you, father," and the son's
-voice was thrilling with compassion. "We're both
-your children," and it was pitiful to see the strong
-lips struggling; "we're your children—and we
-promised mother."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Thus the gentle stream flowed on. And as they
-talked a new peace flowed into the haunted eyes;
-and the blessed tidings of those he loved—of her
-whose sweet face was even now upon its pillow, and
-of the one who dwelt with God—came with balm and
-healing to his soul.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll try, Harvey," he said again—"and I'll trust
-your mother's God."</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>As Harvey guided him out into the night the
-quiet stars above him seemed to be the very sentinels
-of heaven. And he marvelled that this wondrous
-charge had come to him at last—over all the waste
-of years; and that the secret plan of the Unseen, its
-deep design unchanging, had entrusted to his hand
-the fulfillment of his mother's prayers.</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><span>It was night again; but beautiful. And if any of
-the Glenallen slumberers, a moment waking, heard
-upon the pavement the tread of two silent men,
-they knew not how holy was the mission that
-impelled these pilgrims of the night. They paused but
-once, these two; before a weather-beaten little house,
-empty now, its grimy shop-window staring out into
-the dark. But the older man seemed as if he could
-not look enough; like cathedral to reverent saint this
-squalid building was to him. Once the younger man
-pointed to an upper window—no light gleamed from
-it now—but the other's eyes, even when they had
-left it far behind, turned to caress it with lingering
-tenderness.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They passed together through the gate that
-guarded the little city of the dead. The moon was
-hidden; and no word passed between them as they
-made their way to the holy of holies where lay their
-precious dead. But Harvey's hand went out to his
-father's; and thus they went on together, hand in
-hand through the darkness, as children go beneath
-life's morning sun.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>They stopped beside two grassy graves. Nearest
-to them, at their dewy feet, lay the larger mound;
-the baby's nestled close beside it. The older man's
-head, uncovered, was bowed in reverence; even in
-the dark Harvey could see the stamp of eternity
-upon his face. The son's love, unspeaking, went out
-in silent passion to his father; so near he seemed, so
-dear, so much his own in that holy hour. Yet the
-broken heart beside him carried a load of anguish of
-which the son knew nothing; it was torn by a tragedy
-and rended by a memory no other heart could share—and
-the weary eyes looked covetously at the quiet
-resting-place beside the waiting dead.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>His tears fell—on the baby's grave. He leaned
-over, as if he saw—first above the one, turning again
-to the other—and God was busy meantime with the
-wound, the long bleeding, unstaunched wound.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey touched him on the shoulder. He looked
-a moment into his son's face, almost as if surprised
-to see him there. Then his eyes turned again to the
-lowly mounds, and he sank on his knees between
-them. Reverently, the yearning of the years finding
-now a voice, he stooped low till his lips touched the
-sod above the mother's face. Then his own was
-upturned to the distant sky, the lips moving.</span></p>
-<p class="pnext"><span>Harvey knew the broken vow was for God alone.
-He turned away. The moon stole gently forth from
-the passing cloud; and, as he turned, his eye fell on
-the new-illumined verse graven on the simple stone:</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>"UNTIL THE DAY BREAK AND THE SHADOWS
-<br />FLEE AWAY"</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span>*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em">
-</div>
-<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">By Robert E. Knowles</span></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">The Attic Guest</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">The Web of Time</em></p>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<dl class="docutils">
-<dt class="noindent"><em class="italics">The Dawn at Shanty Bay</em></dt>
-<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>Decorated and Illustrated by Griselda M. McClure</span></p>
-</dd>
-</dl>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<dl class="docutils">
-<dt class="noindent"><em class="italics">The Undertow</em></dt>
-<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>A Tale of Both Sides of the Sea</span></p>
-</dd>
-</dl>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em">
-</div>
-<dl class="docutils">
-<dt class="noindent"><em class="italics">St. Cuthbert's</em></dt>
-<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>A Parish Romance</span></p>
-</dd>
-</dl>
-<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em">
-</div>
-<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- -->
-<div class="backmatter">
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-<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>THE WEB OF TIME</span><span> ***</span></p>
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- THE WEB OF TIME
-
-
-
-
-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
-https://www.gutenberg.org/license. 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 Web of Time
-Author: Robert E. Knowles
-Release Date: February 12, 2016 [EBook #51198]
-Language: English
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WEB OF TIME ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Al Haines.
-
-
-
-
-
- _*THE WEB OF TIME*_
-
-
- _By_
-
- _*ROBERT E. KNOWLES*_
-
- _Author of "St. Cuthbert's," "The Undertow,"_
- _"The Dawn at Shanty Bay"_
-
-
-
- _New York Chicago Toronto_
- _Fleming H. Revell Company_
- _London and Edinburgh_
-
-
-
-
- Copyright, 1908, by
- FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY
-
-
-
- New York: 158 Fifth Avenue
- Chicago: 80 Wabash Avenue
- Toronto: 25 Richmond Street, W.
- London: 21 Paternoster Square
- Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street
-
-
-
-
- To
- My Daughter
-
- ELIZABETH ELLIS KNOX KNOWLES
-
- whose gentle hands, guided
- from afar, have woven many
- a golden strand into life's
- mysterious web, this book is
- dedicated with unuttered fondness.
-
-
-
-
- *CONTENTS*
-
- I. The Ashes on the Hearth
- II. The Wine-Press Alone
- III. Love's Labourer
- IV. The Riches of the Poor
- V. A Flow of Soul
- VI. An Investment
- VII. "Effectual Calling"
- VIII. Of Such is the Kingdom
- IX. A Belated Enquirer
- X. Sheltering Shadows
- XI. Food for Thought
- XII. The Encircling Gloom
- XIII. The Dews of Sorrow
- XIV. The Weighing of the Anchor
- XV. A Parental Parley
- XVI. David the Diplomat
- XVII. Friendship's Ministry
- XVIII. Voices of the Past
- XIX. A Brush With Death
- XX. The Restoring of a Soul
- XXI. A Heated Debate
- XXII. Breakers Ahead
- XXIII. Ingenuity of Love
- XXIV. The Victor's Spoils
- XXV. What Made the Ball so Fine?
- XXVI. "The Fair Sweet Morn Awakes"
- XXVII. A Brother's Mastery
- XXVIII. A Light at Midnight
- XXIX. How David Swept the Field
- XXX. A Journalist's Injunctions
- XXXI. The Trough of the Wave
- XXXII. Harvey's Unseen Deliverer
- XXXIII. Plain Living and High Thinking
- XXXIV. The Overflowing Hour
- XXXV. "Into His House of Wine"
- XXXVI. A Mistress Of Finance
- XXXVII. The Conqueror's Home-Going
-XXXVIII. The Fleeing Shadows
-
-
-
-
- _*THE WEB OF TIME*_
-
-
-
- *I*
-
- _*THE ASHES ON THE HEARTH*_
-
-
-"No, father's not home yet--go to sleep, dear," and the mother-hand
-tucked the clothes securely about the two snuggling forms; "don't ask
-any more, Harvey, or you'll waken Jessie--and go to sleep."
-
-Mrs. Simmons went back to the kitchen, crooning softly to the wakeful
-baby in her arms. Glancing at the clock, she marked, with an
-exclamation of surprise, how late it was. "He might be in any minute
-now," she said to herself as she thrust in another stick for the
-encouragement of the already steaming kettle. Then she busied herself a
-few minutes about the table; a brief pause, as if pondering, ended in
-her moving quickly towards the pantry, emerging a moment later with some
-little luxury in her hand.
-
-"Poor Ned, this night-work seems so hard--if he's working at all," she
-thought to herself, "and he'll be cold and tired when he comes in--hush,
-baby, isn't that your father?" as she laid a finger on the crowing lips.
-
-The footfall came nearer, firm and steady, too--at which the anxious
-face lighted up; but a moment later it was gone, and silence reigned
-again. The baby seemed, in some mysterious way, to share the
-disappointment; in any case, it became suddenly quiet, the big blue eyes
-gazing up at the mother's. The unfathomed depths, as such depths are
-prone to do, seemed to start some hidden springs of thought in the
-woman's mind; for the anxious eyes that peered into them were now
-suffused with tears, then bright again with maternal fondness as she
-clasped the infant to her breast.
-
-For she dreaded the home-coming of her husband, even while she longed
-for it. The greatest of all books assures us that fear is cast out by
-love--but love may still fear something in the very one it loves above
-all others; some alien habit, some sin that changes the whole complexion
-of a soul. And thus was it with the wife who now awaited her husband's
-coming with a troubled heart.
-
-It had not been ever thus. Far different had it been in the happy days
-with which her thoughts were busy now as she moved hither and thither,
-doing what deft and loving hands could do to make all bright and cheery
-before her husband should arrive. Those vanished days had been happy
-ones indeed, with nothing to cloud their joy.
-
-When Edward Simmons first crossed her path, she knew that her hour of
-destiny had come. He was then a journeyman printer--and he was handsome
-and chivalrous and fascinating; sensitive to the last degree, imperious
-by nature, but tender in the expression of his love for her. And how
-rapturously sure of the happiness that lay before them both! Passionate
-in temper he undoubtedly was--but tideful natures ever are. And he was
-slower to forgive himself than others.
-
-She had been little more than a girl, a fatherless girl, when first she
-met Edward Simmons--Ned, as his friends all called him--and in less than
-a year after their meeting she gave herself to him forever. Then her
-real life began, she thought; but before a year had passed, it was
-new-quickened and enriched beyond all of which she had ever dreamed.
-Her first-born son came to swell the fullness of her joy, and Eden
-itself broke into flower at his coming. The anguish and the ecstasy of
-motherhood had come twice again since then--and she marvelled at the new
-spring of love that each new baby hand smites in the wilderness of life.
-
-But the sky had darkened. When at its very brightest, the clouds had
-gathered. Steady employment and good wages and careful management had
-enabled her to garner a little, month by month; womanlike, she was
-already taking thought of how Harvey should be educated. And just when
-everything seemed prosperous, that awful trouble had come among the
-printers--between the masters and the men. Then came strikes and
-idleness--work by spasmodic starts, followed by new upheavals and
-deepening bitterness--and Ned had been more with the muttering men than
-with his Annie and the children.
-
-And--this was so much worse--he had gradually fallen a victim to a
-sterner foe. A tainted breath at first; later on, thick and confused
-utterance when he came home at night; by and by, the unsteady gait and
-the clouded brain--one by one the dread symptoms had become apparent to
-her. She had known, when she married, that his father had been a
-drinker; and one or two of her friends had hinted darkly about
-hereditary appetite--but she had laughed at their fears. Hereditary or
-not, the passion was upon him--and growing. Lack of work proved no
-barrier. Little by little, he had prevailed on her to give him of her
-hard-saved treasure, till the little fund in the post-office savings was
-seriously reduced.
-
-But there was another feature, darker still. It had changed him so.
-His whole moral nature had suffered loss. No wonder the woman's face
-bore tokens of anxiety as she waited and watched through the long
-midnight hours; for drink always seemed to clothe her husband with a
-kind of harshness foreign to his nature, and more than once she had
-trembled before his glance and shuddered at his words. Against this,
-even her love seemed powerless to avail; for--and it is often so with
-the mysterious woman-heart--she seemed but to love him the more
-devotedly as she felt him drifting out to sea. She could only stretch
-vain hands towards the cruel billows amid which she could see his
-face--but the face she saw was ever that of happier days.
-
-Suddenly she started, her heart leaping like a hunted hare as she heard,
-far-off, clear sounding through the stillness of the night, the footfall
-she was waiting for. The child's eyes seemed to fasten themselves upon
-the mother's as if they caught the new light that suddenly gleamed
-within them; she held her babe close as she went swiftly to the door and
-slipped out into the night. The silent stars looked down on the poor
-trembling form as she stood and waited, shivering some--but not with
-cold--listening for the verdict her ears must be the first to catch.
-
-She had not long to wait; and the verdict would have been plain to any
-who could have seen her face as she turned a moment later and crept back
-into the house. The stamp of anguish was upon it; yet, mechanically,
-the babe's eyes still on hers, she took up the little teapot and poured
-in the boiling water--the kettle went on with its monotonous melody.
-She had just time to hurry up and steal a glance at the children; they
-were asleep, thank God.
-
-The baby turned its eyes towards the door as the shambling feet came up
-to it and the unsteady hand lifted the latch. The mother pretended to
-be busied about the table, but the eager eyes stole a quick glance at
-her husband, darkening with sorrow as they looked. The man threw off
-his coat as soon as he entered.
-
-"I'm hungry," he said in a thick, unnatural voice.
-
-"I've got your supper all ready, dear," the woman's low voice returned.
-She tried hard to keep it steady; "and I'll just pour the tea. Are you
-tired, Ned?"
-
-He did not answer. Staggering towards the table, he began eating
-greedily, still upon his feet. "To-day's been the devil," he muttered;
-"I can't eat, I tell you--there's only one thing I want, and I've had
-too much of that. But I've got to have it."
-
-"You didn't speak to baby, Ned," she said timidly, trying to come closer
-to him, yet shrinking instinctively; "see how she jumps in my arms--she
-knows you, Ned."
-
-"I wish she'd never been born," the man said brutally; "it'll only be
-another hungry mouth--how much have we left in the savings?"
-
-"And she was trying to say 'daddy' to-day--and once I'm sure she did,"
-the mother went on, fearful of his quest and hoping to beguile him thus.
-
-"What's that got to do with it?" he demanded angrily, commanding his
-words with difficulty. "The strikers had to give in--and we went back
-to-day. An' the bosses won't take us on again--they've sacked us, damn
-them, and every man of us has to come home to his hungry kids. How much
-is left out o' what we've saved?" he repeated, tasting a cup of tea,
-only to let it fall from his shaking hand so suddenly that it was
-spilled about the table.
-
-"There's about three hundred, Ned," she said hesitatingly. "We did have
-nearly five, you know--we've used such a lot of it lately."
-
-"I want some of it," he said gruffly. "I've got to pay into the fund
-for the men--and anyhow, I want money. Who earned it if it wasn't me?"
-
-"Oh, Ned," she began pleadingly, "please don't--please don't make me,
-dear. It's all we've got--and it's taken so long to save it; and if
-times get worse--if you don't get work?"
-
-The pitiful debate was waged a little longer. Suddenly she noticed--but
-could not understand--a peculiar change that came slowly over his
-countenance.
-
-"Maybe you're right," he said at last, a leer of cunning on his face.
-"There ain't goin' to be any quarrellin' between us, is there? We'll
-see about it to-morrow." His whole tactics changed in a moment, the
-better to achieve his purpose. "You've always stood by me, Annie, an'
-you won't go back on me now. Hello, baby," as he tried to snap his limp
-fingers, coming closer to the two.
-
-The child laughed and held out its arms. The father's feet scraped
-heavily on the floor as he shuffled towards it. "It knows its dad all
-right," he said in maudlin merriment; "glad to see its old dad--if he
-did get fired. Come, baby, come to your old dad," and he reached out
-both hands to take it.
-
-The mother's terror was written in her eyes. "Oh, don't, Ned--don't,
-please," she said; "she'll catch cold--I've got her all wrapped up."
-
-"I'll keep the blanket round her," he mumbled; "come to your old dad,
-baby," his voice rising a little.
-
-But his wife drew back. "Please don't to-night, Ned," she remonstrated;
-"it'll only excite her more--and I can't get her to sleep," she pleaded
-evasively.
-
-His heavy eyes flashed a little. "I want that young 'un," he said
-sullenly, advancing a little; "I ain't goin' to eat her."
-
-The mother retreated farther, her lips white and set, her eyes leaping
-from the babe's face to its father's. "I can't, Ned," she said; "let us
-both carry her, dear; come, we'll make a chair of our hands, like we
-used to do for Harvey--and I'll keep my arm about her, so," and she held
-out one hand, holding the baby firm with the other.
-
-He struck it down. "Give me that young 'un," he said, his nostrils
-dilating, his voice shaky and shrill.
-
-She stood like a wild thing at bay. "I won't, Ned, I won't," her voice
-rang out; "good God, Ned, it isn't safe--go back," she cried, her voice
-ringing like a trumpet as she held the now terrified infant to her
-breast, the child rising and falling as her bosom heaved in terror.
-
-His eyes, unsteady now no longer, never left her face as he moved with a
-strange dexterity nearer and nearer to them both. The woman glanced one
-moment into the lurking depths, all aflame with the awful light that
-tenderness and madness combine to give, saw the outstretched hand, felt
-the fumes outbreathing from the parted lips--and with a low gurgling cry
-she sprang like a wounded deer towards the door. But he was too quick
-for her, flinging himself headlong against it. Aroused and inflamed by
-the fall, he was on his feet in an instant, clutching at her skirt as he
-arose.
-
-"Give me that young 'un," he said hoarsely; "we'll see whose child this
-is."
-
-The woman's lips surged with the low moaning that never ceased as the
-unequal struggle raged a moment, the helpless babe contributing its note
-of sorrow. Suddenly the man got his hands firmly on the little arms;
-and the mother, her instinct quick and sensitive, half relaxed her hold
-as she felt the dreadful wrenching of the maddened hands. With a gasp
-he tore the baby from her, reeling backward as the strain was suddenly
-relaxed. Struggling desperately, he strove to recover himself. But the
-strain had been too much for the ruined nerves. The child fell from his
-hands, the man's arms going high into the air; an instant later he
-slipped and tottered heavily to the floor, the woman springing towards
-them as his outclutching hands seized her and bore her heavily down, the
-man now between the two, the silent infant beneath the struggling pair.
-
-She was on her feet in the twinkling of an eye, tearing him aside with
-superhuman strength. But the baby lay in the long last stillness; its
-brief troubled pilgrimage was at an end. And the little dreamers
-up-stairs still slept on in uncaring slumber--nor knew that their long
-rough journey was at hand. And the kettle on the stove still murmured
-its unconscious song.
-
- * * * * * *
-
-The evil spirit had departed from the man.
-
-It had gone forth with the destroying angel, both with their dread work
-well performed. And the man knew--with preternatural acuteness he
-interpreted his handiwork in an instant.
-
-And they knelt together--that is the wonder of it--together, above the
-baby form. Both noted the dimpled hand, and the rosebud mouth--both
-touched the flaxen hair. No word of chiding fell--from the mother's
-lips nothing but an inarticulate broken flow, sometimes altogether
-still, like the gurgling of an ice-choked brook.
-
-But he was the first to declare that the child was dead, maintaining it
-fiercely, his eye aglow now with anguished pity, so different from the
-weird lustre that it had displaced. And she would not believe it,
-dropping one tiny hand that she might chafe the other, lest death might
-get advantage in the chase.
-
-She was still thus engaged when he arose and looked about the room for
-his hat. It was lying where he had flung it when he came in an eternity
-ago.
-
-"Good-bye--till--till the judgment day," he said huskily, standing above
-her, something of the wildly supernatural in the tone. He waited
-long--but she spoke no word, nor lifted her eyes from the dead face, nor
-relinquished her stern struggle with the complacent Conqueror.
-
-He went out--and was gone with steady step. She knew it not. Perhaps it
-was about half an hour later when he returned, opening the door gently
-and passing her swiftly by. A father's yearning sat upon the ashen
-face--he went quickly and softly up the stairs. Then he lighted a
-match, shading it at first with his hands lest it should wake the shut
-eyes--and while it lent its fleeting light the stricken man drank deep
-of his children's faces. Then the darkness swallowed them up, and he
-groped his way down-stairs and passed out into the night.
-
-
-It was still dark when she at last surrendered--but to God. And the
-fire was black and the house was cold when she too went out, closing the
-door carefully behind her. She groped about the little porch, feeling
-in every corner; and she examined the tiny veranda, and searched through
-all the neglected garden; she even noticed the fragrance of some simple
-flowers--they had planted them together, and the children had helped in
-turn, having one toy spade between them. But it was all empty, all
-still.
-
-"Oh, Ned," she cried softly, passionately, her hands outstretched
-beneath the all-seeing stars, her face now the face of age, "oh, Ned,
-come back--you didn't mean to do it and you didn't know. Come back,
-Ned," she cried a little louder, "come back to Harvey and
-Jessie--they'll never know. Oh, Ned," as the outstretched hands were
-withdrawn and pressed quickly against her bosom. For it pained
-her--with its mother-burden--and she turned to go back to her baby.
-Then she saw its still face in the darkness--and her hands went out
-again towards the night. The silent stars looked down, pitying,
-helpless; she went back to her fatherless and her God.
-
-
-
-
- *II*
-
- _*THE WINE-PRESS ALONE*_
-
-
-"The woman's name's Simmons, sir--an' she took the whole o' this half
-plot. She keeps a little store, mostly sweeties, I think," said
-Hutchins, as he laid his spade against the fence. "An' there wasn't no
-funeral--just her an' her two children; she brought the little one here
-from the city--that's where it was buried afore she came here to live."
-
-His chief asked the labourer a question in a low voice.
-
-"Oh, yes, that was all right," the man answered, picking an old leaf
-from a geranium plant as he spoke. "She showed me the original
-certificate she got in the city--or a copy of it, leastways; it said the
-baby came to its death from a fall on the floor. So that was all
-right--I asked the chairman. I couldn't help feelin' sorry for the
-woman, sir; she took on as bad as if it was new. An' the two little
-shavers was playin' hide an' seek round the tombstones afore I got the
-little grave filled in--she seemed to be terribly alone. It's funny,
-sir, how hard it is to get used to this business--I often says to my
-missus as how no man with kids of his own has any license to hire here,"
-and the kindly executioner went off, spade in hand, to make a new wound
-in the oft-riven bosom of God's hospitable earth.
-
-The hired helper had told about all that was known in Glenallen
-concerning their new townswoman. Indeed, rather more; for comparatively
-few knew anything of the little family gathering that had stood one
-early morning beside the tiny grave. The village was small--Glenallen
-had not yet achieved its fond hope that it would outgrow the humiliating
-state of villagehood--and its inhabitants were correspondingly well
-posted in the source, and antecedents, and attendant circumstances of
-all who came to dwell among them. But almost all they could ascertain
-regarding Mrs. Simmons was that she had come from the city, that she had
-two children living--as far as they could learn, their father was
-dead--that she had some scanty means with which she had embarked on the
-humble enterprise that was to provide her daily bread.
-
-And thus far they were correct enough. For the first darkness of the
-great tragedy had no sooner overswept her than she began to shrink with
-an unspeakable aversion from all that was associated with the old life
-that had now no memory but pain. Her heart turned with wistful yearning
-towards some spot where she might live again the simple country life she
-had known in the early days of childhood. The cold selfishness of the
-city chilled her to the soul. She longed for some quiet country
-place--such as Glenallen was--where she might make a living, and live
-more cheaply; where her children might have a chance; where the beauty
-of God's world might do its share of healing.
-
-She had known but few in the city, simple folk--and they had seemed to
-care but little. Yet they had to be kept in the dark; and the careful
-story of her baby's fall had been an often crucifixion. They thought
-her husband had suddenly been crazed with grief, hinting sometimes at
-the cowardice of his desertion--and she made no protest, dissembling
-with ingenious love for his sake and her children's. Few were aware
-when she left the city, and fewer seemed to care. She had little to
-bring--one sacred treasure was her chiefest burden--and it slept now
-beside her. And Harvey and Jessie must not know that their father was
-alive--not yet. They would have enough to bear; and moreover, who could
-tell? In any case, was he not dead to them?
-
-She never knew exactly what was the cause of it--whether blow or
-shock--nor did she care; but she trembled for her children as it became
-more and more certain that her eyesight was failing. It had begun to be
-impaired soon after that very night. Yet she went bravely on, clinging
-to her little ones, clinging to life, clinging to hope--even to joy, in
-a dim, instinctive way. And ever, night and day, she guarded the dread
-secret; ever, night and day, she cherished the hope that her eyes might
-look again, if God should spare their light, upon the face she had last
-seen with that awful look upon it as it came nearer and nearer to her
-own. So her lips were set tight, lest any revealing word should escape
-to any soul on earth.
-
-And it was not long till the curious residents of Glenallen felt that
-the stranger among them was acquainted with grief--but of what sort it
-was, the most vigilant never knew. Thus did she tread the wine-press
-alone, pressing silently along the upward path of pain.
-
-And thus had the years gone by.
-
-
-
-
- *III*
-
- _*LOVE'S LABOURER*_
-
-
-"Cut him off another piece, mother--a bigger piece; that there chunk
-wouldn't satisfy a pigeon. Fruit-cake isn't very fillin'--not to a boy,
-leastways, and there's nothin' lonelier than one piece of cake inside of
-a boy that's built for nine or ten."
-
-Mr. Borland's merry eyes turned first upon his wife's face as he made
-his plea, then wandered towards a distant field, resting upon the
-diminutive figure of a boy.
-
-"Oh, David," answered his wife, her tone indicating a measure of shock,
-"you're so vivid with your illustrations. It isn't artistic--I mean
-about--about those inside matters," as she smiled, rather than frowned,
-her mild reproof.
-
-"That's all right, mother; it's true to life, anyhow--an' it all deals
-with his inner bein'; it tells of sufferin' humanity," rejoined her
-husband. "The smaller the boy, the bigger the hunk--that's a safe rule
-when you're dealin' in cake. Bully for you, mother--that there slice'll
-come nearer fittin' him," he concluded jubilantly, as his wife completed
-a piece of surgery more generous than before.
-
-"Who was it hired Harvey to pick potatoes, father?" inquired Mrs.
-Borland. "How can he eat this without washing his hands?" she
-continued, almost in the same breath; "it's such dirty work."
-
-"You just watch him; that won't trouble him much. Boys love sand. It
-was me that hired him, Martha. He come right up to me on the street an'
-took off his hat like I was an earl: 'Can you give me any work to do,
-Mr. Borland?' he says. 'I'm going to make enough money to make mother's
-eyes well,' an' the little fellow looked so earnest an' so manly, I fair
-hated to tell him the only kind of job I could give him. I just hated
-to. But I told him I wanted some one to pick potatoes. An' Harvey
-brightened right up. 'All right, Mr. Borland,' he says, 'I'll come.
-I'm awful fond of potatoes, an' I can pick two at a time--three, if
-they're not too big,' he says, an' I couldn't keep from laughin' to save
-myself."
-
-"What's the matter with his mother's eyes?" asked Mrs. Borland, as she
-tore the front page from the weekly paper, preparing to wrap it about
-the cake.
-
-"I didn't like to ask him. The little fellow seemed to feel real bad
-about it--an' I never did like to probe into things that hurt," replied
-her husband. "Even when I was a boy at school, I never could stand
-seein' a fellow show where he stubbed his toe," continued the homely
-philosopher, reaching out his hand for the little parcel. "There was
-one thing about the boy that took me wonderful," he went on; "I asked
-him would he work by the day or by the bushel, an' he said right quick
-as how he'd do it by the bushel--I always like those fellows best that
-prefers to work by the job. Hello, there, old sport," he suddenly
-digressed as a noise from behind attracted him, "an' where did you come
-from? You're always turnin' up at cake time. I thought you were goin'
-to ride to Branchton," glancing as he spoke at the riding whip the girl
-held in her hand.
-
-Full of merry laughter were the eyes, so like his own, that sparkled
-upward towards her father's face. The wild sweet breath of happy
-girlhood came panting from her lips, half breathless with eager haste;
-while the golden hair, contrasting well with the rosy tide that suffused
-her cheek, and falling dishevelled on her shoulders, and the very aroma
-of health and vitality that distilled from her whole form, tall and
-lithe and graceful as it was, might amply justify the pride that marked
-her father's gaze.
-
-"So I was," the chiming voice rejoined. "But I turned back. I despise
-a coward." The eyes flashed as she spoke. "And Cecil Craig's one--he's
-a real one," she elaborated warmly. "We met a threshing engine half-way
-out--and of course I was going to ride past it. But he wouldn't--he got
-off and tied his horse to a tree. And it broke the lines and got away.
-I was so glad--and I rode on, and Doctor threw me," rubbing her knee
-sympathetically as she spoke; "that's what made me so glad his own horse
-got away," she affirmed savagely, "and the two engine men stopped and
-caught Doctor for me and I got on him again--astride this time--and I
-made him walk right up and smell the engine; and Cecil had to walk home.
-The men told him to touch himself up with his whip and it wouldn't take
-him long--and that made him awful mad. You see, they knew he was a
-coward. Who's that fruit-cake for?" she inquired suddenly, flinging her
-gloves vigorously towards the hat-stand. "I'll just try a piece
-myself--fruit-cake's good for a sore knee," and she attacked it with the
-dexterity that marks the opening teens.
-
-"It's for a little boy that's workin' in the field--little Harvey
-Simmons. He's pickin' potatoes, an' I thought a little refreshment
-wouldn't hurt him," her father answered, pointing fieldward as he spoke.
-
-"I know him," the maiden mumbled, her mouth full of the chosen remedy;
-"he goes to school--and he always spells everybody down," she added as
-enthusiastically as the aforesaid treatment would permit. "Let me take
-it out to him, father," the utterance clearing somewhat.
-
-The father was already handing her the dainty parcel when her mother
-intervened. "No, Madeline, it's not necessary for you to take it. It's
-hardly the correct thing, child; I'll call Julia--she can take it out."
-
-"'Tisn't necessary, mother," quoted her husband. "I want this here cake
-to mean something. I'll just take it myself," and in a moment he was
-striding energetically across the intervening paddock, the untiring form
-of the little labourer alternately rising and falling as he plied his
-laborious toil.
-
-"Your father is the best-hearted man in the county, Madeline," Mrs.
-Borland ventured when her husband was out of hearing.
-
-"He's the best man in the world," the girl amended fervently; "and Cecil
-says his father's a member of the Church and mine isn't," she went on
-more vehemently; "he said father didn't believe the right things--and I
-just told him they weren't the right things if my father didn't believe
-them, and I wouldn't believe them either," the youthful heretic
-affirmed. "Lally Kerr told me Cecil's father made some poor people give
-him money for rent that they needed for a stove--I didn't want to tell
-Cecil that, but when he said his father believed all the right things I
-told him my father did all the good things, and he was kind to the
-poor--and I told him he was kind to them because he was poor once
-himself and used to work so hard with his hands, and----"
-
-"Why, child," and the mother frowned a little, "where did you get that
-idea? Who told you that?"
-
-"Father told me," replied the child promptly. "He told me himself, and I
-think I heard him telling Cecil's father that once too--Cecil's father
-wanted not to give so much money to the men that worked for him. I
-think they were talking about that, and that was when father said it,"
-the unconscious face looking proudly up into her mother's.
-
-"You don't need to speak about it, dear; it doesn't sound well to be--to
-be boasting about your father, you know. Now run away and get ready for
-lunch; father 'll be back in a minute."
-
-The child turned to go upstairs, singing as she went, forgetful of the
-mild debate and blissfully ignorant of all the human tumult that lay
-behind it, conscious only of a vague happiness at thought of the great
-heart whose cause she had championed in her childish way. Less of
-contented joy was on the mother's face as she looked with half exultant
-eyes upon the luxury about her, trophies of the wealth that had been so
-welcome though so late.
-
-Prompted by the conversation with Madeline, her mind roamed swiftly over
-the bygone years; the privations of her early married life, the growing
-comfort that her husband's toil had brought, the trembling venture into
-the world of manufacture, the ensuing struggle, the impending failure,
-the turning tide, the abundant flow that followed--and all the
-fairy-land into which increasing wealth had borne her. Of all this she
-thought as she stood amid the spoils--and of the altered ways and
-loftier friends, of the whirl and charm of fashion, of the bewildering
-entrance into such circles of society as their little town afforded,
-long envied from afar, now pouring their wine and oil into still
-unhealing wounds. Dimly, too, it was borne in upon her that her
-husband's heart, lagging behind her own, had been content to tarry among
-the simple realities of old, unspoiled by the tardy success that had
-brought with it no sense of shame for the humble days of yore, and had
-left unaltered the simplicity of an honest, kindly heart.
-
-Her husband, in the meantime, had arrived at the side of his youthful
-employee, his pace quickening as he came nearer to the lad, the corners
-of his mouth relaxing in a sort of unconscious smile that bespoke the
-pleasure the errand gave him. Absorbed in his work, and hearing only
-the rattle of the potatoes as they fell steadily into the pail beside
-him, the boy had not caught the approaching footfalls; he gave a little
-jump as Mr. Borland called him by his name.
-
-"Here's a little something for you, my boy--the missus sent it out."
-
-Harvey straightened himself up, clapped his hands together to shake the
-dust from them, and gravely thanked his employer as he received the
-little package. Slowly unwrapping it, his eye brightened as it fell on
-a sight so unfamiliar; in an instant one of the slices was at his lips,
-a gaping wound in evidence as it was withdrawn. A moment later the boy
-ceased chewing, then slowly resumed the operation; but now the paper was
-refolded over the remaining cake, and Harvey gently stowed it away in
-the pocket of his blouse.
-
-"What's the matter?" inquired Mr. Borland anxiously. "Aren't you
-well--or isn't it good?" The boy smiled his answer; other reply was
-unnecessary and inadequate.
-
-"Goin' to take it home?" the man asked curiously.
-
-"No, sir. I'm just going to keep it a little while," the youngster
-replied, looking manfully upward as he spoke, a little gulp bespeaking
-the final doom of the morsel he had taken. "You don't mind, sir?" he
-added respectfully.
-
-"Me mind! What would I mind for? You're quite right, my boy--it's a
-mighty good thing when a fellow finds out as young as you are that he
-can't eat his cake and have it too; it takes most of us a lifetime to
-learn that. How old are you, Harvey--isn't that your name?"
-
-"Yes, sir. I'm most fourteen," the boy answered, stooping again to
-resume his work.
-
-"Do you go to school?" the man inquired presently.
-
-"Mostly in the winter, sir; not very much in the summer. But I do all I
-can. You see, I have to help my mother in the store when she needs me.
-But I'm going to try the entrance next summer," he added quickly, the
-light of ambition on his face.
-
-"Where is your mother's store?" asked Mr. Borland.
-
-"It's that little store on George Street, next to the Chinese laundry.
-It has a red door--and there's a candy monkey in the window," he
-hastened to add, this last identification proffered with much
-enthusiasm.
-
-A considerable silence followed, broken only by the rattling potatoes as
-they fell. "Mr. Borland, could you give me work in your factory?" the
-boy inquired suddenly, not pausing for an instant in his work.
-
-"In the factory!" echoed Mr. Borland. "I thought you were going to
-school."
-
-"I could work after four," replied the boy. "There's two hours left."
-
-Mr. Borland gazed thoughtfully for a moment. "'Twouldn't leave you much
-time to play," he said, smiling down at Harvey.
-
-"I don't need an awful lot of play," the boy returned gravely; "I never
-got very much used to it. Besides, I've got a lot of games when I'm
-delivering little parcels for mother--games that I made up myself.
-Sometimes I play I'm going round calling soldiers out because there's
-going to be a war--and sometimes I play I'm Death," he added solemnly.
-
-"Play you're Death!" cried the startled man. "What on earth do you mean
-by that? I thought no one ever played that game but once," he
-concluded, as much to himself as to the boy.
-
-"Oh, it's this way, you see--it's one of the headlines in the copy-book
-that pale Death knocks with--with--impartial steps at the big houses and
-the little cottages--something like that, anyhow. And it's a good deal
-the same with me," the boy responded gravely, looking up a moment as he
-spoke. "It's a real interesting game when you understand it. Of course
-I'm not very pale," he continued slowly, "but I can feel pretty pale
-when I want to," he concluded, smiling at the fancy.
-
-Mr. Borland was decidedly interested. And well he might have been. For
-there was just enough of the same mystic fire in his own heart,
-untutored though it was, to reveal to him the beauty that glowed upon
-the boyish face before him. The lad was tall for his years,
-well-formed, lithe, muscular; dishevelled by his stooping toil, a wealth
-of nut-brown hair fell over an ample forehead, almost overshading the
-large blue eyes that were filled with the peculiar shining light which
-portrays the poetic mind. His features were large, not marked by any
-particular refinement, significant rather of the necessity--yet also of
-the capacity--for moral struggle; distended nostrils, marking fullness
-of life and passion, sensitive to the varying emotions that showed first
-in the wonderful eyes; a deep furrow ran from nose to lips, the latter
-large and full of rich red blood, but finely formed, curving away to
-delicate expression at either side, significant of a nature keenly alive
-to all that life might have to give--such lips as eloquence requires,
-yet fitted well together, expressive of an inner spirit capable of the
-firmness it might sorely need.
-
-"Could you drive a horse, lad?" the man suddenly inquired, after a long
-survey of the unconscious youth.
-
-Harvey hesitated. "I think I could, sir, if the horse was willing.
-Sometimes we play horse at school, and I get along pretty well."
-
-Mr. Borland looked keenly, but in vain, for any trace of merriment on
-the half-hidden face. "I drove the butcher boy's horse once or twice,
-too. And I managed all right, except when it backed up--I hate to drive
-them when they're backing up," the boy added seriously, with the air of
-an experienced horseman.
-
-Mr. Borland laughed. "That's jest where it comes in," he said; "any one
-can drive anything when it's goin' ahead--it's when things is goin' back
-that tries your mettle. I'll see what I can do. Some of our horses
-drives frontwards--horses is pretty evenly divided between the kind that
-goes frontwards and them that won't," he mused aloud as he walked away.
-"I've struck a heap of the last kind--they backed up pretty hard when I
-was your age," Harvey could just overhear as he plucked the dead vines
-from another mound and outthrew its lurking treasures.
-
-
-
-
- *IV*
-
- _*THE RICHES OF THE POOR*_
-
-
-The retreating figure had no sooner gained the house in the distance
-than Harvey began to cast glances, eager and expectant, towards the road
-that skirted the outer edge of the field in which he was working. Once
-or twice he straightened up, wincing a little with the ache that long
-stooping brings, and peered intently towards the top of a distant hill
-beyond which he could not see. Suddenly his eye brightened, and a
-muffled exclamation of pleasure broke from his lips, for the vision he
-longed for had appeared. Yet it was commonplace enough--only a coloured
-sunbonnet, some four or five feet from the ground, and swaying a little
-uncertainly in the noontide light. But it was moving nearer, ever
-nearer, to the waiting boy, who knew the love that lent strength to the
-little feet and girded the tiny hands which bore something for himself.
-
-The girlish form was now well beyond the curving hill, trudging bravely
-on; and Harvey saw, or thought he saw, the happy smile upon the eager
-face, the pace quickening as she caught sight of her brother in the
-distance. Harvey's eyes filled with tenderness as he gazed upon the
-approaching child; for the poor, if they love and are loved again, know
-more of life's real wealth than the deluded rich.
-
-A few minutes more and she was at the bars, panting but radiant. Harvey
-ran to lay them down, taking the bundles from her hands. "Oh, but my
-arms ache so," the girl said, as she sank upon the grass; "it must be
-lovely to have a horse."
-
-"Some day we will," her brother returned abruptly. "You just wait and
-see--and then you won't ever walk anywhere. But you oughtn't to carry
-these all this way, Jessie; I could bring it in my pocket just as well."
-
-The girl's face clouded a little. "But then it gets so cold,
-Harvey--and what's in there ought to be nice and warm," she said
-hopefully, nodding towards the pail. "Mother heated the can just when
-we put it in, and I came as fast as ever I could, so it wouldn't
-cool--and I held it in the hot sun all the time," she concluded
-triumphantly, proud of her ingenuity.
-
-"That's lovely, Jessie," replied the boy; "and you're quite right," he
-went on, noticing the flitting sign of disappointment. "I just hate
-cold things--and I just love them hot," he affirmed as he removed the
-lid.
-
-Jessie bended eagerly over it and the faint steam that arose was as
-beautiful to her eyes as was ever ascending incense to priestly
-ministrant.
-
-"It's hot, Harvey! I thought it would be," she cried. "Mother was so
-anxious for you to have a nice dinner--I knew that was what you liked,"
-as an exclamation of delight came from the boy. "Mother said she never
-saw such a boy for meat-pies as you. And there's something further down,
-that you like too--they're under a saucer, and they have butter and
-sugar both, on them. No, you'd never guess what it is--oh, that's not
-fair," she cried, "you're smelling; any one can guess what it is if they
-smell," laughing merrily as she tried to withdraw the pail beyond the
-range of his olfactory powers.
-
-"It's pancakes!" pronounced her brother, sniffing still.
-
-"Yes, of course--but you never would have guessed. Mother made them the
-very last thing before I started. And I cried when she was putting them
-in--oh, Harvey, it was so sad," the girl burst out with trembling voice,
-her hands going to her face as she spoke. "And mother cried too," she
-added, looking out at her brother through swimming eyes.
-
-Harvey halted in his attack. "What for? What were you crying about?"
-he asked earnestly, the food still untasted.
-
-"It was about mother's eyes. You see, she put the pancakes on the table
-beside the stove--and there was a pile of table mats beside them. Well,
-when mother went to put them into the pail, she took up the mats
-instead--never knew the difference till she felt them. And I could see
-how sad it made her--she said she was afraid she soon wouldn't see at
-all; and I just couldn't keep from crying. Oh, Harvey," the shaking
-voice went eagerly on, "don't you think we'll soon be able to send her
-to the city to see the doctor there?--everybody says he could cure the
-right eye anyhow; mother thinks the left one's gone. Don't you think we
-will, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey looked into space, a large slice of the tempting pie still in his
-hand. "I'm hoping so," he said--"I made almost thirty cents this
-morning; I counted it up just before you came--and there's the two
-dollars I made picking raspberries that mother doesn't know about--it's
-in that knot-hole in the closet upstairs, you know. And maybe Mr.
-Borland's going to give me more work--I asked him, and then----"
-
-"I told mother I was going to sell Muffy," his sister broke in
-impulsively. "But she said I mustn't; I guess she's awful fond of
-Muffy, she cried so hard."
-
-"I'd hate to sell Muffy," the boy responded judicially; "she's the only
-one that always lays big eggs. And then, besides, they might kill her
-and eat her up--rich people nearly always do their hens that way." Two
-pairs of eyes darkened at thought of a tragedy so dread.
-
-"We wouldn't, even if we was rich, would we, Harvey?" the girl resumed
-earnestly.
-
-"No, not with Muffy," Harvey assured her. "They're awful rich over
-there," he volunteered, pointing to the large stone house in the
-distance.
-
-"It must be lovely," mused the girl. "We could have such lots of lovely
-things. Why don't you eat your dinner, Harvey?--it'll get so cold."
-
-"I don't want it much," replied her brother. "You see, I had a pretty
-good breakfast," he explained cheerfully.
-
-The loving eyes, still moist, gazed into his own. She was so young, some
-years younger than he, and as inexperienced almost as a child could be;
-yet the stern tuition of poverty and sorrow had given something of
-vision to the eyes that looked so wistfully out upon the plaintive face
-before her. She noted his shabby dress, the patches on his knees, the
-boots that stood so sorely in need of impossible repairs, the grimy
-stains of toil from head to foot, the furrowed channels that the flowing
-perspiration had left upon his face. And a great and mysterious pity
-seemed to possess her. She felt, dimly enough, yet with the sad reality
-of truth, that her brother had hardly had a chance in life's unequal
-struggle. His tenderness, his unselfishness, his courage, all these she
-recognized, though she could not have called them by their names. She
-knew how ardently he longed to do so much that chill penury forbade; and
-as she glanced at the dust-covered pile in the distance that his toil
-had gathered, then back at the tired figure on the grass, all stained
-and spotted, the food he so much needed untasted in his sorrow, she felt
-more and more that there was only one hero in the world, however baffled
-and unrecognized he might be.
-
-"Mother'll be so disappointed," the girl pleaded, "if you don't eat it,
-Harvey; she tried so hard to make it nice. Besides, I'll just have to
-carry it back," she suddenly urged, a note of triumphant expectation in
-her voice; "and it was real heavy, too," well pleased with the
-culminating argument.
-
-The boy hesitated, then slowly raised the tempting morsel to his lips.
-"I didn't have such an awful lot of breakfast," he conceded; "I really
-am pretty hungry--and it was so good of you to fetch it to me, sister,"
-his gaze resting affectionately on her.
-
-A long silence ensued, Jessie watching delightedly as the little repast
-was disposed of, entertaining her brother the while with a constant
-stream of talk, all fed from the fountain-head of their own little
-circle, their own humble and struggling life. But however far afield
-her speech, with her thought, might wander, it kept constantly returning
-to the one central figure of their lonely lives, to her from whom their
-own lives had sprung; and the most unobservant listener would soon have
-known that the unselfish tenderness, the loving courage, of the
-mother-heart that had warmed and sheltered their defenseless lives, was
-reaping now its great and rich reward.
-
-Jessie had reverted again to the dark shadow that overhung them both,
-their mother's failing eyesight; and two earnest little faces looked
-very soberly one into the other, as though they must together beat back
-the enemy from the gate.
-
-Suddenly Harvey broke the silence. "I'm pretty sure she's going to get
-well," he said earnestly, holding the bottle in one hand and the glass
-stopper in the other. "I had a dream last night that--that comforted me
-a lot," he went on, slightly embarrassed by the fanciful nature of his
-argument; he could see that Jessie had hoped for something better. "I
-dreamed I was walking some place on a country road. And it was all
-dark--for mother, at least--it was awful dark, and I was leading her by
-the hand. I thought there was something troubling her that you didn't
-know about--nor me--nobody, only mother. Well, just when we were
-groping round in the dark, a great big black cloud broke up into little
-bits, and the sun came out beautiful--just like--like it is now," he
-described, glancing towards the orb above them. "Of course, that was
-only in my dream--but we went straight on after that and mother could
-see to walk just as well as me," he concluded, smiling as hopefully as
-if dreams were the only realities of life.
-
-Jessie, holding her sunbonnet by both strings and swinging it gently to
-and fro, had a curious look of interest, not unmixed with doubt, upon
-her childish face. "That was real nice, Harvey," she said slowly at
-length, "but I don't just understand. You see, people always dream
-their dreams at night--and the sun couldn't come out at night; anyhow it
-never does."
-
-Harvey gazed indulgently. "It can do anything when you're dreaming," he
-said quickly, a far-off look in his thoughtful eyes. "That's when all
-the wonderful things happen," he went on, still looking absently across
-the fields. "Poor folks have just as good a time as rich folks, when
-they're asleep," he concluded, his voice scarcely audible.
-
-"But they know the difference when they wake up," retorted his sister,
-plucking a clover leaf eagerly. "Only three leaves!" she exclaimed
-contemptuously, tossing it aside. "Yes, it's very different when they
-wake up--and everybody's awake more than they're asleep," she affirmed,
-as confident in her philosophy as he in his.
-
-Her brother said nothing as he proceeded to fold up the rather generous
-remains of his dinner; poor laddie, he knew the taste of bread eaten
-with tears, even if he had never heard the phrase. His face brightened
-a little as his hand went out to the pocket of his blouse, extracting a
-parcel wrapped in paper. He held it with both hands behind his back,
-uncovering it the while.
-
-"Shut your eyes, Jessie--and open your mouth," he directed, as
-enthusiastically as though the formula were being tested for the first
-and only time.
-
-Jessie obeyed with a confidence born of long experience, and her
-brother, all care vanished meanwhile from his face, held the plum-cake
-to her lips. "Now, bite," he said. Jessie, already faintly tasting,
-made a slight incision. "Oh, Jessie, bite bigger--bite bigger, Jessie!"
-he cried in dismay; "you're just trying how little you can take--and I
-kept it for you." But Jessie's eyes were wide open now, fixed on the
-unwonted luxury. "Too much isn't good for little girls," she said
-quaintly, swallowing eagerly, nevertheless; "I'll eat one piece if
-you'll eat the other, Harvey," she said, noticing the double portion.
-
-"I'm keeping mine for mother," said the boy resolutely.
-
-"So'm I," the other exclaimed before his words were out. "I'd sooner
-have the pancakes, anyhow," she added, fearing his protest. "Will you
-take it to her, Harvey--or me?"
-
-"I think you'd better," replied her brother, "and I'll eat the rest of
-the dinner if you'll promise to eat your part of the cake when you get
-home."
-
-Jessie nodded her consent, and a few minutes saw Harvey's portion of the
-contract nobly executed, his sister as satisfied as he.
-
-
-
-
- *V*
-
- _*A FLOW OF SOUL*_
-
-
-Good Dr. Fletcher always said a little longer grace than usual when he
-dined at Mr. Craig's. Whether this was due to the length of the ensuing
-meal, or to the long intervals that separated these great occasions, or
-to the wealth that provided them, or to the special heart-needs of the
-wealthy, it were difficult to say. But one thing is beyond all doubt,
-and that is that the good minister of the Glenallen Presbyterian Church
-would no more have thought of using an old grace at Mrs. Craig's table
-than she herself would have dreamed of serving the same kind of soup, or
-repeating a dessert whose predecessor was within the call of memory.
-
-On this particular evening Dr. Fletcher's invocation had been
-particularly long, due perhaps to the aroma, more than usually
-significant, that had escaped the kitchen to assure the sanguine guests;
-and a sort of muffled amen broke from their waiting lips, soon to
-confirm the word by all sincerity of action. This amen was doubtless due
-in part to gratitude for what had ended, as well as to anticipation of
-what was about to be begun. Cecil Craig, seated beside his mother, took
-no part in the terminal devotion; long before the time to utter it, his
-open eyes were turned towards the door through which the servants were
-to enter, and from which, so far as he could reckon, all blessings flow.
-
-Soup came first, and young Craig dauntlessly led on in the attack. His
-mother tried eagerly to call to his attention, and to his alone, that he
-had seized the spoon meant for his dessert; but Cecil was already in
-full cry, the mistaken weapon plying like a paddle-wheel between his
-plate and his mouth--and no signal of distress could reach him. The
-most unfortunate feature of it all, however, was the speedy plight of
-one or two timorous guests, who, waiting for the lead of any members of
-the family, had followed Cecil's; and, suddenly detecting whither he had
-led them, were soon floundering sadly in such a slough of despond as
-they scarce escaped from during the entire meal.
-
-Mr. and Mrs. Borland were there, one on either side of Dr. Fletcher; and
-the light of temporary peace was upon Mrs. Borland's brow--for the
-Craigs' home was nearer to a mansion than any other in Glenallen. A
-slight shade of impatience flitted across her face as she glanced
-athwart Dr. Fletcher's portly form, surveying her husband's bosom
-swathed in snowy white, his napkin securely tucked beneath his chin.
-But David was all unconscious, the region beneath the napkin being
-exceeding comfortable; for the soup was good, and her spouse bade fair
-to give Cecil a stern chase for the honours of the finish.
-
-Soup is a mighty lubricant of the inward parts; wherefore there broke
-out, when the first course was run, a very freshet of conversation; and
-the most conspicuous figure in the flow was that of Mr. Craig. He had
-the advantage, of course, of an erect position, for he had risen to
-inaugurate his attack upon the helpless fowl before him; an entrance
-once effected, he would resume his seat.
-
-"It beats me," he was saying, glancing towards Dr. Fletcher as he spoke,
-"it beats me how any man can go and see sick folks every day--I'd sooner
-do hard labour. Don't you get awful tired of it, Doctor?"
-
-The minister's gentle face flushed a little--the same face at sight of
-which the sad and the weary were wont to take new hope. "I don't think
-you understand it, Mr. Craig," he answered quietly; "any one who regards
-it as you do could never see the beauty of it--it all depends on what
-you take with you."
-
-"Good heavens, do you have to take things with you?" cried the
-astonished host. "Matters are come to a pretty pass when they expect a
-poor preacher to be giving--as well as praying," he affirmed, affirmed,
-savagely at the victim on the platter.
-
-David Borland was listening intently, nabbing dexterously the while at a
-tray of salted almonds that lay a good arm's length away from him. "The
-minister's quite right," he now broke in; "you don't understand, Mr.
-Craig--Dr. Fletcher don't mean that he takes coal an' tea, when he
-visits poor folks. But what he says is dead true just the same--any one
-can carry a bag of turnips, or such like, to any one that's willin' to
-take 'em. But a minister's got to give somethin' far more than that;
-even on Sundays--at least that's my idea of it--even on Sundays, what a
-preacher gives is far more important than what he says."
-
-"You mean he ought to give himself," Mrs. Craig suggested, stirring the
-gravy as she spoke, the dismembered turkey being now despatched to its
-anointing.
-
-"That's it exactly," rejoined David, beaming on his hostess, her own
-face aglow with the gentle light that flows from a sympathetic heart.
-"Everythin's jest a question of how much you give of your own self; even
-here," his voice rising as he hailed the happy illustration, "even in
-this here house--with this here bird--we ain't enjoyin' it because we're
-gettin' so much turkey, but because we're gettin' so much Craig," he
-went on fervently. "I could buy this much turkey for a quarter,"
-passing a well-laden plate as he spoke, "for twenty-five cents at an
-eatin' house--but it wouldn't jest taste the same. It wouldn't have the
-Craig taste, you see--there wouldn't be no human flavour to it, like;
-an' turkey ain't nothin' without a human flavour. That's what makes
-everythin' taste good, you see," he concluded, smiling benignly around
-on the assembled guests.
-
-"I don't believe in any such," retorted Mr. Craig; "no mixture of that
-kind for mine. Turkey's one thing, and humanity's another--no stews for
-me," he directed, smiling broadly at this flash of unaccustomed wit;
-"people eat turkey--but not humanity," he concluded victoriously.
-
-"You're wrong there," replied David Borland quickly. "Folks lives on
-humanity--only it's got to be served warm," he added, falling to upon
-the turkey nevertheless.
-
-"What do you think about it, Doctor?" Mrs. Borland enquired absently,
-for her real concern was with David; his dinner knife was her constant
-terror when they were dining out. All was well so far, however, her
-husband devoting it as yet to surgery alone.
-
-"I think exactly what your husband thinks," replied the minister. "He
-has said the very thing I have often wished to say. I have always felt
-that what a preacher _gives_ to his people--of his heart and love and
-sympathy--is far more than what he _says_ to them. If it were not so,
-they'd better stay home and read far finer things than he can say; I
-often feel that preparing to preach is far more important than preparing
-a sermon. And I think the same holds true of all giving--all
-philanthropy, for instance. What you give of yourself to the poor is
-far more than what you give from your pocketbook--and, if the truth were
-told, I believe it's what the poor are looking for, far more than they
-are for money." The tenderness in Dr. Fletcher's face and the slight
-quiver in his voice attested the sincerity of his feeling; they might,
-too, have afforded no little explanation of the love that all Glenallen
-felt for the humble and kindly man.
-
-Mr. Craig laughed; and that laughter was the key to his character.
-Through that wave of metallic merriment, as through a tiny pane, one
-might see into all the apartments of a cold and cheerless heart.
-
-"That's mighty pretty, Doctor," he began jocosely; "but if I was poor
-I'd sooner have the cash--give me the turkey, and you can have the
-humanity. I believe in keeping these things separate, Dr. Fletcher," he
-went on sagaciously; "no mixin' up business with religion, for me--of
-course, helping the poor isn't exactly religion, but it comes mighty
-near it. And if I give anything to the poor--I used to, too, used to
-give--to give so much every year, till I found out one family that
-bought a watermelon with it, and then I thought it was about time to
-stop. But when I used to--to give to the poor, I always did it strictly
-as a matter of business; just gave so much to--to an official--and then
-I didn't want to know how he dispensed it, or who got it, or anything
-about it."
-
-"Did the--the official--did he give all his time to dispensin' it, Mr.
-Craig? Or did he just do it nights and after hours?" enquired David
-Borland, detaching his napkin from his upper bosom and scouring an
-unduly merry mouth with it the while.
-
-Mr. Craig glanced suspiciously at his guest. "I didn't wish to know,"
-he replied loftily in a moment; "all I'm making out is the principle
-that governed me. And I always take the same stand in my
-business--always assume the same attitude towards my men," he amplified,
-as proud of his language as of his attitude. "Of all the men I've got
-hired, I don't believe I know a half dozen except the foremen. I get
-their work, and they get their pay every second and fourth Tuesday--and
-that's the end of it."
-
-"You don't know how much you miss," the minister ventured, quite a glow
-of colour on his otherwise pallid cheek. "There's nothing so
-interesting as human life."
-
-"You bet--that's just it," chimed David's robust voice; "that's where a
-fellow gets his recreation. I don't think I'm master of my business
-till I know somethin' about my men--there ain't no process, even in
-manufacturing half so interestin' as the doin's of folks in their own
-lives. I know lots of their wives, too, an' half the kids--please give
-me a little more stuffin', Mrs. Craig: it's powerful good," and David
-passed his plate as cheerfully as his opinion.
-
-"That may be your way of taking your recreation, Mr. Borland, but it
-isn't mine," retorted the host, obviously a little ruffled. "Business
-on business lines, that's my motto. Just the other day a little gaffer
-asked me for work, on the plea that he wanted to fix up his mother's
-eyes--wanted to send her to a specialist, I think--and I told him that
-had nothing to do with the case; if I wanted him I'd take him, and if I
-didn't, nobody's eyes could make any difference."
-
-"Was his name Harvey Simmons?" David enquired somewhat eagerly.
-
-"I believe it was. Why, what do you know about him?"
-
-"Oh, nothin' much--only I hired him. And he isn't goin' to have no
-blind mother if my givin' him work will help--that's more. She's got a
-son worth lookin' at--that's one thing sure. An' he earned every penny
-I ever gave him, too--what was you goin' to say, Doctor?" For he saw
-the minister had something to offer.
-
-"I know the little fellow well," said Dr. Fletcher, evidently glad of
-the opportunity. "Poor little chap, he's had hard lines--his father was
-a slave to drink, I believe, and the poor mother has fought about as
-good a fight as I ever saw. I'm sure she carries about some burden of
-sorrow nobody knows anything about. She has two children. Well, a long
-time ago now, one of the richest couples in my church offered to adopt
-the little girl--and they got me to sound her on the subject. Goodness
-me! You should have seen the way the woman stood at bay. 'Not till the
-last crust's gone,' she said. She was fairly roused; 'I'm richer than
-they are,' she said; 'I've got my two children, and I'll keep them as
-long as I can lift a hand to toil for them.' Really, I never felt more
-rebuked in my life--but I admired her more than I could tell. And the
-wee fellow raged like a little lion. 'Did he want to take sister?--tell
-him to go home, mother,' and he was fairly shouting and stamping his
-little foot, though the tears were running down his cheeks all the
-while. I said she had two children," the minister added, "but I think
-she lost a baby through some sad accident years ago."
-
-David Borland's eyes were glistening. "Bully for you, Doctor!" his
-voice rang through the room. "Bully for you--I knew the lad was worth
-stickin' to. I'm proud to be mixed up with a chap like that," thumping
-the table as he spoke.
-
-"That's what I often say to Peter," Mrs. Craig began mildly during the
-pause that followed. "I often feel what you sometimes say in your
-sermons, Doctor--that we ought all to be mixed up a little more
-together. The rich and the poor, I mean. They need us, and we need
-them--and we both have our own parts to play in the great plan."
-
-"That's it, Mrs. Craig," David broke in lustily again; "that's exactly
-it--last Sunday when we sang that line, 'My web of time He wove,' I jest
-stopped singin'--it struck me, like it never done before, as how God
-Himself couldn't weave much without us helpin' Him--the rich an' the
-poor--it's Him that designs, but it's us that has to weave. An' I
-reckon our hands has got to touch--if they're workin' on the same
-piece," he concluded, drinking in the approving smile with which Dr.
-Fletcher was showing his appreciation of the quaint philosophy.
-
-A considerable silence followed, the host showing no disposition to
-break it. Cecil was the first to speak.
-
-"Harvey wears patches on his knees," he informed the company. "What is
-there for dessert, mother?"
-
-Mrs. Craig whispered the important information; the radiant son
-straightway published it to the world: "Plum pudding!--I like that--only
-I hope it has hard sauce."
-
-Which it ultimately proved to have--and to Mrs. Borland's great dismay.
-For David, loyal to ancient ways, yet ever open to the advantage of
-modern improvement, passed back his plate for a second helping.
-
-"I used to think the kind of gravy-sauce you slashed all over it was the
-whole thing--but I believe that ointment's got it beat," he said;
-whereat Mrs. Borland laid her spoon upon her plate, the ointment and the
-anointed untasted more.
-
-
-
-
- *VI*
-
- _*AN INVESTMENT*_
-
-
-David Borland stood quite a little while gazing at the contents of the
-window before he entered the tiny store. Rather scanty those contents
-were; a few candy figures, chiefly chocolate creations, a tawdry toy or
-two, some samples of biscuits judiciously assorted, a gaudy tinselled
-box of chewing-gum, and a flaming card that proclaimed the merits of a
-modern brand of tea.
-
-These all duly scrutinized, David pushed the door open and entered the
-humble place of business. The opening door threw a sleigh-bell,
-fastened above it, into quite an hysterical condition, and this in turn
-was answered by hurrying footsteps from the inner room. It was Harvey
-who appeared.
-
-"Good-morning, Mr. Borland," the boy said respectfully. "Did you want
-to see mother?" he enquired a little anxiously; "she's gone to the
-market, but I think she'll soon be back."
-
-"That's all right, my boy," the man responded. "No, it wasn't your
-mother I wanted; it was you--I come to do a little business."
-
-"Oh," said Harvey, glancing hopefully towards the window.
-
-"'Tain't exactly shop business," David said, a little nervously, "I come
-to--to buy a hen," he blurted out. Harvey's hand went like lightning
-into the glass case. Withdrawn, it produced a candy creature of many
-colours, its comb showing the damage that vandal tongues had done.
-"Totty Moore licked at it once or twice when we wasn't lookin'," he
-explained apologetically; "it used to be in the window--it's a settin'
-hen," he enlarged, indicating with his finger a pasty pedestal on which
-the creative process was being carried on.
-
-David grinned broadly. "'Tain't that kind of a hen I'm wantin'," he
-said. "I want the real article--a real live two-legged hen."
-
-"Oh," said Harvey, staring hard.
-
-"Where's your chicken-house?" enquired David, coming to business direct.
-
-"It's outside," the boy replied instructively--"but there ain't very
-many."
-
-"Let's go and see them," said the man.
-
-The boy led the way, David ducking his head several times en route,
-bowing profoundly at the last as they entered the little house.
-
-"This your hennery?" he asked, surveying the inmates amid a storm of
-cackling; "sounds like you had hundreds of 'em."
-
-"Just five," said Harvey, peering towards his customer through the
-semi-darkness.
-
-"I think I'll buy that there one on the roost," David said after due
-deliberation; "seems to be the highest-minded of the bunch."
-
-"Can't," said Harvey, "that's Jessie's; it's only got just one
-eye--that's why Jessie wanted it. Can't sell Jessie's," he concluded
-firmly.
-
-David agreed. "Haven't you got one called Pinky?" he enquired.
-
-"No," Harvey replied solemnly, "she's dead--we had her a long, long time
-ago. I can show you her grave outside in the yard."
-
-"Never mind," said Mr. Borland; "this ain't no day for inspectin'
-graves. I might have known she'd passed away--how long does a hen live,
-anyhow--a healthy hen?"
-
-"Depends on how they're used," said the boy; "Pinky sneezed to
-death--too much pepper, I think. Who told you about Pinky, sir?"
-
-"Depends a good deal, too, on how often the preacher comes to dinner,
-don't it? It was Madeline told me about Pinky--you know my girl, don't
-you?"
-
-"Yes," and Harvey's face was bright; "I'm awful sorry Pinky's dead--I
-could sell you one of Pinky's grandchildren's children, Mr. Borland."
-
-"What?" said Mr. Borland, turning a straw about and placing the unchewed
-end in his mouth, "one of what?"
-
-"One of Pinky's grandchildren's children. You see, her child was
-Fluffy, and its child was Toppy--that was her grandchild; well, its
-child was Blackie--and that's her scratchin' her cheek with her left
-foot. She's done scratchin', but that's her over there."
-
-"She's got the Pinky blood in her all right?" asked Mr. Borland.
-
-"She's bound to have it," the boy answered gravely; "they was all born
-right in this room; besides, I've got it all marked down on the door."
-
-David surveyed the descendant critically. "Does she lay brown eggs?" he
-enquired presently. "Madeline said Pinky always laid brown eggs."
-
-Harvey hesitated a moment. "They're--they're pretty brown," he said
-after a pause. "They mostly turn brown a little after they're laid."
-
-"I'm terrible fond of brown eggs," remarked the purchaser.
-
-"What for?" asked Harvey, looking full into his face.
-
-"Well, really--I don't know," and David grinned a little. "Only I
-always fancy they're kind o'--kind o' better done, don't you think?
-Besides," he added quickly, "I always like my toast brown, too--and they
-kind o' match better, you see."
-
-"Yes," said Harvey reflectively; "I never thought of that before. Of
-course, there isn't any hen can be taught _always_ to lay them brown--I
-think Blackie tries to make them as brown as she can," glancing fondly
-at the operator as he spoke. "If you was to feed her bran, Mr. Borland,
-I think she'd get them brown nearly all the time."
-
-"That's a thunderin' good idea," affirmed Mr. Borland, Harvey chiming in
-with increasing assurance of success as he marked the favour with which
-his theory was received.
-
-"We'll call it a bargain," said David.
-
-"All right," exclaimed the boy, "just wait a minute till I get a bag."
-
-"Don't bother about that; I'll just leave her here till I send for
-her--she'll earn her board. But I may as well pay you now--how much is
-she worth?"
-
-The boy pondered. "I don't hardly know--of course the brown kind comes
-a little dearer," he ventured, glancing cautiously at Mr. Borland.
-"She's an awful well-bred hen--I can show you on the door. And she'll
-eat anything--Jessie's string of beads broke loose in the yard once and
-Blackie ate them all but two; that shows she's healthy," he concluded
-earnestly.
-
-"It's a wonder she ain't layin' glass alleys," remarked David. "Well,
-about the price--I'll tell you what I'll do with you. Here's a
-bill--an' if she keeps on at the brown business, mebbe I'll give you a
-little more."
-
-He handed the boy a crisp note, the lad's hand trembling as he took it.
-He gave the door a push open that the light might fall on it. "Oh, Mr.
-Borland," he cried, in a loud, shrill voice, "I won't--you mustn't, you
-mustn't. Mother wouldn't let me--I can't--please take it back, Mr.
-Borland," and David noticed in the fuller light that the boy was shaking
-with emotion, his face aglow with its eager excitement.
-
-"Nonsense, my lad; what you going on about? I reckon I know somethin'
-about the price of hens--especially the brown kind. No, I won't take it
-back. She's worth that much to me jest to keep the yard red up o'
-glass."
-
-"Oh, Mr. Borland--I wish I----"
-
-"Tut, tut," David interrupted; "boys should take what's set before 'em,
-an' ask no questions--an' don't you tell nobody now, only your mother.
-Say, isn't that her callin'? Listen--it is, sure enough--that's your
-mother callin' you," and David took advantage of the interruption to
-unlatch an adjoining gate, slipping through to the outer lane, his face
-the more radiant of the two.
-
-
-
-
- *VII*
-
- *"*_*EFFECTUAL CALLING*_*"*
-
-
-"I'll go with you as far as the door, dear--but the elders wouldn't want
-me to come in, of course." Thus spoke Mrs. Simmons to her son as the
-little family were seated at their evening meal. Very humble it was,
-indeed, with its strawberry jam, and bread and cheese, these themselves
-carefully measured out.
-
-"Come away, Jessie; what's keeping you?" the mother called to the outer
-kitchen.
-
-"I'll come in a minute, mother," the child's cheery voice replied. "I'm
-doing something," which was evident a little later when Jessie appeared,
-flushed and triumphant, bearing in one hand a little plate of
-well-browned toast, and in the other, her little fingers tingling with
-its heat, a large brown egg, evidently an unwonted luxury.
-
-"Jessie, my child, what have you been doing?" the mother asked, peering
-rather closely at the dainties the child had laid upon her plate. "Oh,
-Jessie, you shouldn't have done it--you know we can't afford it, dear;
-we need to sell them all," she remonstrated, affection and gratitude
-nevertheless mingling in her voice.
-
-"It was cracked, mother--it got a little fall," the child explained
-artfully.
-
-"Jessie gave it a little fall; she always gets the biggest one cracked a
-little when there isn't much for supper--don't you, sister?" Harvey
-asked knowingly.
-
-His sister blushed, but the reply she was struggling to provide was
-interrupted by the tinkling of the bell above the door in the little
-room without. This was a signal the mother was never slow to obey;
-customers were rare enough and must not be permitted to escape. Rising
-quickly, she made her way, her hands extended rather pitifully, to the
-little room that did duty as a store. Jessie bore the little delicacies
-back to the kitchen, lest they should cool in the interval.
-
-The mother was back again in a minute, sighing as she resumed her seat.
-
-"Did they buy anything, mother?" her son enquired.
-
-"No, nothing--they wanted something we didn't have; I sent them to
-Ford's," referring to a more elaborate establishment on an adjoining
-street. "I was speaking about you going to the elders' meeting,
-Harvey--I'll go with you as far as the church, as I said. And you
-mustn't be afraid, son; they'll be glad you're going to join the church.
-And you must just answer what they ask you, the same as you do to me at
-home."
-
-"Will they ask me the catechism, mother?"
-
-"Some of the questions, most likely. Be sure you know 'effectual
-calling'--I think they nearly always ask 'effectual calling.'"
-
-"I know that one all right," the boy answered. "I said it to Jessie four
-times last night--do you think there'll be others there to join the
-church, mother?"
-
-"I couldn't say for sure, but it's likely there'll be some. I guess
-it's almost time to go now, dear," she said rising. "Jessie, you'll do
-the best you can if anybody comes in--I'll not be long."
-
-"Will it be all right about--about you finding your way back, mother?"
-Harvey asked slowly, his voice full of solicitude.
-
-"Of course, child, of course--you and Jessie are growing quite foolish
-about me. I'm not so bad as that," she protested. "Why, I can tell the
-day of the month, when I stand up close to the calendar--this is the
-23d," she affirmed reassuringly, stepping out into the night with Harvey
-clinging close beside her.
-
-Neither spoke much as they walked on towards the village church. Often,
-when she thought the boy's eyes were not upon her, the woman lifted her
-own upward to the silent stars; the night always rested her, something
-of its deep tranquillity passing into the tired heart that had known so
-much of battle. And yet the long struggle had left upon her face the
-marks of peace rather than the scars of conflict. Of merriment, there
-were traces few or none, although sufficient provocation could recall
-the old-time sparkle to the eyes that had been so often dimmed; but
-something noble was there instead, a placid beauty such as comes alone
-from resignation, born of a heart that has found its rest in a Strength
-and Tenderness which dwell beyond the hills of time. If one could have
-caught a vision of that face, upturned to the radiant sky above her, the
-glimpse would have disclosed features of shapely strength, marked by
-great patience, the eyes full of brooding gentleness and love, conscious
-of the stern battle that composed her life, but conscious, too--and this
-it was that touched the face with passion--of invisible resources, of an
-unseen Ally that mysteriously bore her on.
-
-"Let us go in here a minute," the mother said when they were almost at
-the church.
-
-Harvey followed her, unquestioning. He knew whither her feet were
-turned, for he had often followed that well-marked path before, often
-with toddling feet. They entered the quiet churchyard, passing many an
-imposing monument, threading their way with reverent steps among the
-graves, careful that no disrespect should be shown the humblest sleeper.
-On they pressed, the dew glistening upon their shoes as they walked,
-their very breathing audible amid the oppressive silence. Gradually the
-woman's steps grew slower; and as she crept close to an unmarked grave
-that lay among the untitled mounds around it, the slender frame trembled
-slightly, drawing her poor shawl closer as she halted with downcast
-eyes, gazing at the silent sepulchre as it lay bathed in the lonely
-light of the new-risen moon. The boy stood behind her for a moment,
-then crept close to her, his hand gliding into hers; the woman's closed
-about it passionately, its warmth stealing inward to her heart.
-
-"I think I remember when baby died," Harvey began, after they had stood
-long together by the grave; "I was asleep, wasn't I, mother? I remember
-in the morning."
-
-"Yes, dear," said his mother, her voice tremulous; "yes, you were
-asleep--I was with baby when she died."
-
-"Was father there too, mother?"
-
-"Yes, Harvey, yes--pull that weed, dear; there, at the foot of baby's
-grave."
-
-"Did father cry when baby died, mother?--like you did, mother?"
-
-"I don't know, dear--yes, I think so. We'll have to bring some fresh
-flowers soon, won't we, Harvey?" the mother's lips trembling.
-
-"Yes, mother, I'll pick some pretty ones to-morrow. Did father die long
-after baby, mother?" the boy pursuing the dread subject with the strange
-persistence wherewith children so often probe a secret wound.
-
-"No, my son--yes, I mean; yes, Harvey, it was the same night, I think,"
-her nervous fingers roving about Harvey's uncovered head.
-
-"You _think_, mother?" the tone full of surprise.
-
-"It was near the same time, Harvey," she answered hurriedly, unable to
-control her voice. "I can't tell you now, son--some day, perhaps. But
-mother was so sorry about baby that she hardly knows--don't ask me any
-more about it, Harvey," she suddenly pleaded; "never any more--some day
-I'll tell you all about your father, and all you've asked me so often.
-But don't ask me any more, my son--it makes mother feel bad," as she
-bent over to kiss the curious lips.
-
-He could see the tears upon his mother's cheeks, and he inwardly
-resolved that her bidding should be done, silently wondering the while
-what this mysterious source of pain might be.
-
-After a long silence the boy's voice was heard again: "Weren't baby's
-eyes shut when she died, mother?"
-
-"Yes, darling--yes, they were closed in death," and the unforgetting
-heart beat fast at the tender memory.
-
-"But they're open now, aren't they, mother?--and wasn't it God that did
-it?"
-
-"Yes, Harvey, they're open now--God opened them, I'm sure."
-
-"Couldn't He make people see all right before they're dead, mother?
-Couldn't He do it for you?"
-
-"Yes, child--yes, He could if He wanted to."
-
-"And why wouldn't He want to?" the boy asked wonderingly. "I'm sure He
-could; and I've been asking Him to do it for us Himself--if we couldn't
-get the money for the doctor to do it. Wasn't that right, mother?"
-
-The moon, high now, looked down upon the lonely pair; they stood
-together, they two, beside the unresponsive grave, the elder face bathed
-in tears, the younger unstained by grief and wistful with the eager
-trust of childhood. The insignia of poverty was upon them both, and the
-boy shivered slightly in the chill air; but the great romance and
-tragedy of life were interwoven there, love and hope and sorrow playing
-the parts they had so often played before. The woman stooped down amid
-the glistening grass and took her child into her arms, pressing him
-close to her troubled bosom, her face against his cheek, while her eyes
-roved still about his sister's grave.
-
-"We must go on," she murmured presently. "Can you see a light in the
-church?"
-
-"Did you join when you were just a girl, mother?" the boy asked, his
-lips close to her ear.
-
-"Yes," she replied, "I was very young when I joined."
-
-"Did father ever join the church?" Harvey went on, releasing his face to
-gaze about the sleeping city.
-
-"No, dear--no, your father never was a member of the church," she said
-softly.
-
-"Wasn't he good enough? Wouldn't they let him?" the lad asked
-wonderingly.
-
-"They never--they never refused him," his mother faltered. "But he
-never thought he was good enough."
-
-"But he was, wasn't he?" the boy pursued.
-
-"Yes, dear--yes, he was once--he often was. He always meant to be good;
-he loved you, Harvey. And he made me promise that some day I would tell
-you why he thought--why he thought he wasn't good enough. He was afraid
-you might be the same; it was something he--something he couldn't help
-very well--I'll tell you some day, Harvey. Who's that?" she whispered
-excitedly, pointing towards a shadowy figure that was winding its way
-silently towards them.
-
-His mother straightened up as she spoke, Harvey's hand tight clasped in
-hers again. The figure came swiftly on.
-
-"It's Madeline," the boy said rather excitedly. "It's Madeline
-Borland--I guess she's going to join too."
-
-Which proved indeed to be the case. "I knew it was you," the girl
-began, almost breathless as she came up to them. "The beadle said it
-was you, Harvey; Julia walked to the church with me, and she's waiting
-till I join. I thought perhaps we might go in together; I don't want to
-go in alone." Harvey could see in the dim light how eagerly the girl's
-eyes were searching his mother's face. He did not withdraw his hand,
-but unconsciously straightened himself in quiet dignity.
-
-"This is my mother," he said simply, quite unfamiliar with the modes of
-introduction; "and that's Miss Borland, mother."
-
-"Please don't say that," the girl interrupted. "I think you might call
-me Madeline; anyhow, I heard you call me Madeline to your mother," as
-she stepped gently around the foot of the grave and extended her hand to
-Harvey's mother. The older woman was evidently struck by the girl's
-beauty, by the simple grace and kindliness of her manner. At any rate
-she held the outstretched hand rather long in hers, gazing on the sweet
-face upturned in the quivering light.
-
-"And this--this is my sister's grave," Harvey's subdued voice added a
-moment later.
-
-The girl said nothing, turning a solemn gaze upon the lowly mound. She
-had been long familiar with the quiet acre, but this was perhaps the
-first time she had realized the dread personality that clothes the grave
-with dignity.
-
-"You haven't any treasure here, have you, Miss Madeline?" the mother
-asked timidly, when the pause had become almost painful.
-
-"No, not any," the girl answered in hushed tones; "we haven't even got a
-plot--I never had a little sister," she affirmed, the moistening eyes
-turning now to Harvey's face. He looked down, then up again, and the
-soulful gaze was still fixed upon him. A kind of wave, strange and
-unfamiliar, seemed to bathe his soul; he did not wish to look longer,
-and yet a sort of spell seemed to keep his eyes fastened on her face.
-The girl's look was eloquent of much that neither he nor she was able to
-interpret, the first venture out to sea on the part of either soul.
-
-"Doesn't it seem strange that we should meet here--here at your sister's
-grave," she said slowly, after the gaze of both had fallen. "Of course,
-we've often seen each other at school--but this is our first real
-meeting, isn't it?" she went on, gazing now towards the light that
-twinkled feebly in the distant church.
-
-"Yes," he answered simply, "yes, it is--I guess we'd better go. Do you
-know the catechism?" he digressed, beginning to move forward, half
-leading his mother by the hand.
-
-"No, I don't. Father doesn't believe in catechisms,--I wanted him to
-join along with me, but he said he wasn't good enough. Only he said
-he'd see--it would be just like him to come without my knowing."
-
-"That's what my father said," Harvey interjected quickly; "and my mother
-says he was often good--only of course it's too late now," a little sigh
-escaping with the words.
-
-"Perhaps they join them in heaven," the girl suggested in an awestruck
-voice. "Father says that's where the real joining's done; if your
-father was good, I'm sure they'd join him," she concluded earnestly,
-looking into both the serious faces as she spoke.
-
-"Don't you think maybe they would, mother?" pleaded the boy. The habit
-of a lifetime committed everything to the mother for final judgment.
-
-"That's in God's hands, dear," the delicate face glancing upward through
-the mist. "I'm sure God would do it if He could--we'd better hurry on;
-they'll be waiting for us in the church."
-
-The little procession wound its way back to the humble temple, Harvey
-still holding his mother by the hand, Madeline following close behind.
-And the shadowy home of the little child was left alone in the silence
-and the dark.
-
-The youthful pair disappeared within the ivy-grown door. The mother,
-her dim eyes still more dimmed by tears, turned upon her homeward way, a
-troubled expression on her face. Why had she not told him more, she
-wondered to herself--something about his father, and the cruel appetite
-that had been his shame and his undoing? And her lips moved in
-trembling prayer that God would save her son from the blight of his
-father's life, that the dread heritage might never wrap his life in the
-same lurid flame.
-
-
-
-
- *VIII*
-
- _*OF SUCH IS THE KINGDOM*_
-
-
-The predominant national type among the Glenallen folks was Scotch, and
-that distinctly. David Borland was one of the few exceptions; and the
-good folk about him had varied explanations for the baffling fact that
-he, American-bred though he was, had been one of the most prosperous men
-of the community. Some maintained that his remote ancestry must have
-come from the land o' cakes, even though he himself were oblivious to
-heaven's far-off goodness. Others contended that his long association
-with a Scottish neighbourhood had inoculated him with something of their
-distinctive power; while the profounder minds acknowledged frankly that
-the ways of Providence were mysterious, and that this lonely spectacle
-of an alien mortal, handicapped from birth and yet rising to affluence
-and distinction, was but an evidence of the Omnipotence that had wrought
-the miracle.
-
-But if, in matters temporal, the historic Scotch stock of Glenallen had
-been compelled to divide the spoil with those of lesser origin, the
-control of affairs ecclesiastical was carefully reserved for Scottish
-hands alone. This went without saying. Over every door of church
-officialdom, and especially of the eldership, he who ran might read: "No
-Irish need apply,"--and the restriction included all to whom heaven had
-denied the separate advantage of Scottish birth or ancestry.
-
-Wherefore it came about that the assembled elders who on this particular
-night awaited the arrival of applicants for church-membership were about
-as formidable to look upon as any half dozen of mere men could be. The
-dignity of their office filled the little room and the sense of
-responsibility sat gravely on every face. Two there were among them,
-newly elected to the office--the highest office in the gift of their
-fellow-men--and these two were fairly dripping with new-born solemnity.
-The older men, relaxing with the years, had discarded some of the sombre
-drapery that the newer elders wrapt about them with pious satisfaction.
-
-neas Ramsay, one of the veterans, had ventured to ask one of the newly
-ordained if they would finish the threshing at his farm to-morrow. The
-question was put before the meeting had well begun, and was whispered in
-the ear at that; but the shock was easily seen on the new elder's face,
-who, recovering in a moment, informed his senior that they would discuss
-the matter after the "sederunt" was adjourned. Which purely
-Presbyterian term rolled from his lips with the luxurious unction known
-to Presbyterian elders, and to them alone.
-
-The Session had been constituted, and good old Sandy McKerracher had led
-in prayer, the other elders standing through the exercise. Most of them
-had one foot upon a chair, the elbow resting on the knee and the chin
-upon the hand, before Sandy had concluded. In fact, the precaution of
-an adjoining chair was seldom overlooked by any when the Moderator named
-Sandy for this solemn duty, his staying powers famous for fifty years.
-The chief emphasis of his prayer was laid on the appeal to Infinite Love
-that none of the intending communicants might eat and drink damnation to
-themselves. This was a favourite request with all of them on such
-occasions--excepting one elder, and good Dr. Fletcher himself--and it
-was largely because of this that the Moderator was wont to see the
-Session constituted before the candidates were admitted to the room.
-
-"There's some bringin' their lines frae ither kirks," Robert MaCaig
-began, when the Moderator asked if there were any candidates for
-membership, "but there's nae mair nor twa to join on profession o'
-faith," he added, turning a despondent eye upon his brother elders. "We
-used to hae a dizzen or mair."
-
-"Twa souls is an awfu' lot, Robert--twa never dyin' souls!" It was
-Geordie Nickle who sounded the hopeful note. He was the saintliest
-elder of them all, and the saintliest are the sanguinest. "We maun be
-thankfu' for twa mair to own the Saviour's name," he added reverently.
-
-"But they're only bairns," Robert urged; "there's no' a muckle man among
-them."
-
-"That's a' the better," returned Geordie; "the Maister was aye glad to
-hae the bairns come--ca' them in," he said, the slightest note of
-impatience in his voice.
-
-A moment later Harvey and Madeline were ushered in, very shy and
-embarrassed, their downcast eyes fluttering upwards now and then to the
-stern faces fixed upon them.
-
-There was considerable skirmishing of a preliminary sort, the elders'
-questions booming out solemnly like minute guns. Suddenly Robert McCaig
-proceeded to business.
-
-"We'll tak a rin ower the fundamentals," he said, brandishing the
-age-worn term as though he had just invented it. "What is original
-sin?" he demanded; "tell the Moderator what's original sin."
-
-"The Moderator kens fine himsel'," Andrew Fummerton whispered to the
-elder at his right, smiling grimly. But the man beside him scarcely
-heard, for every mind was intent with the process under way; scores of
-times had they witnessed it before, but it was again as new and
-absorbing as the prowess of a fisherman landing his reluctant prize.
-
-There was a long silence, still as death. Suddenly Willie Gillespie
-fell to sneezing; he it was at whose farm the threshers had been that
-day, and who had been profanely questioned by neas Ramsay, as already
-told. Perhaps it was the day's dust that provoked the outburst; but,
-from whatever cause, the explosion was remarkable in its power and
-duration, one detonation following another with heightening tumult till
-the final booming was worthy of the noblest efforts of modern artillery.
-As the bombardment increased in power, the elders unconsciously braced
-themselves a little on their chairs, dismayed at the unseemly outbreak,
-considering the place and the occasion.
-
-Harvey, for the life of him, could not forbear to smile; this human
-symptom was reassuring to him amid the statuesque solemnity of the
-room--it made original sin less ghostly, somehow, and he looked almost
-gratefully at the dynamic Willie. This latter worthy, recoiling like a
-smoking cannon, groped frankly for his nose as if apprehensive that it
-had been discharged; finding it uninjured, he repaired hastily to the
-tail pocket of a black coat that had sustained the dignity of a previous
-generation in the eldership, extracting therefrom a lurid
-pocket-handkerchief--that is, originally lurid--but now as variously
-bedecked as though the threshers had enjoyed its common ministry that
-day. Whereupon there ensued a succession of reports, inferior only to
-their mighty predecessors themselves, resembling nothing so much as the
-desultory firing that succeeds the main attack.
-
-"Ye was askin' what might be original sin," Willie murmured
-apologetically from behind the faithful handkerchief, swishing it back
-and forward on his nose the while as though he were polishing the
-knocker on a door; he glanced apologetically towards Mr. McCaig as he
-spoke, anxious to repair the connection he had so violently disturbed.
-
-"If my memory serves me," Robert returned severely, "if my memory serves
-me, that is what we was dealin' wi'--order's a graun' thing at a meetin'
-o' sic a kind as this," he added sternly, his gaze following the
-disappearing banner now being rentombed.
-
-"What is original sin, laddie? Mebbe the lassie can gie me the answer,"
-he suggested, Harvey's silence impressing him as incurable.
-
-"I'm not very sure," faltered Madeline--"was it the kind at the
-beginning?"
-
-Robert McCaig had no desire to be unnecessarily severe; therefore turned
-enquiringly to his colleagues, implying that the verdict lay with them.
-
-"Very good, child, very good," Dr. Fletcher said approvingly. "It's
-very hard to answer Mr. McCaig's question--he'd find it difficult enough
-himself. What is it, Harvey?" he asked, smiling at the boy, who seemed
-to have an idea ready.
-
-"I'm not very sure either; but isn't it--isn't it the kind that doesn't
-wear off?" the lad ventured timidly, rather ashamed of the description
-after it was finished.
-
-"Capital, my boy; first-rate!" the minister cried delightedly. "That's
-better than anything I learned in college. I don't believe any one
-could get much nearer to it than that--now we'll just pass from this,"
-smiling around at the elders as he made the suggestion; "there are other
-things more important--has any of the elders anything else to ask?"
-
-It was not long before two or three of them were in full cry again.
-Stern questions, weighty interrogatives, suggestive of the deepest
-mysteries, were propounded to the youthful pair as complacently as
-though they were being asked how many pints make a gallon. One wanted
-to know their view of the origin of evil, following this by a suggestion
-that they should each give a brief statement of the doctrine of the
-Trinity. Another urged that they should describe in brief the process
-of regeneration. Still another asked if they could repeat the books of
-the Bible backwards--any one, he said, could do it the old way--and one
-good elder capped the climax by saying he would like to hear them tell
-how to reconcile the free agency of man with the sovereignty of God.
-
-But just at this juncture Geordie Nickle rose, his face beaming with
-tenderness, and addressed the chair.
-
-"They're fashin' the bairns, Moderator," he said gently. "Wull ye no'
-let me pit a wee bit question or twa till them mysel'?"
-
-The Moderator was evidently but too well pleased, and his nod gave
-Geordie the right of way. The old man moved to where Harvey and
-Madeline were seated, taking his stand partially behind them, his hands
-resting gently on the heads of both.
-
-"I mind fine the nicht I joined the kirk mysel'," he began; "it was the
-winter my mither gaed awa, an' I think God answered her prayer, to mak
-her glad afore she went--but the elders askit me some o' thae vera
-questions--an' I kent then hoo far they was frae the soul," he said
-gravely, looking compassionately on the faces now upturned to his own.
-"Sae I'm juist gaein' to ask ye what I was wishin' they'd ask frae me.
-Div ye no' love the Saviour, lassie--and div ye no' ken He's the son o'
-God?" he asked reverently, tenderly. "Div ye no' ken that, lassie?--an'
-the same wi' yirsel', my laddie?--I'm sure ye're baith trustin' Him, to
-the savin' o' the soul; are ye no', bairnies?" and the old man's face
-shone as the great truth kindled his own simple soul.
-
-Harvey and Madeline nodded eager assent, a muffled affirmative breaking
-from their lips.
-
-"An' ye ken the Saicrament's juist the meetin'-place where He breaks
-bread wi' His children, and where they say, afore a' the folk, that they
-love Him, and trust Him, an' want to be aye leal an' true till Him, and
-show forth His death till He come--div ye no' ken it that way?" the
-kindly voice went on, his hands still resting on the youthful heads.
-
-Harvey answered first: "That's what I'd like to be--that's what I want
-to do," he said simply.
-
-"I want to, too--I'm the same as Harvey," Madeline faltered sweetly.
-
-Then Geordie Nickle straightened himself and turned towards Dr.
-Fletcher. "Moderator," he said earnestly, "we canna mak the way mair
-open nor the Maister made it; an' I move that these twa be received
-intil full communion, an' their names--the Clerk kens what they are--be
-added to the roll o' communicants in good standin' i' the kirk."
-
-This was carried without further protest and ordered to be done
-forthwith.
-
-
-
-
- *IX*
-
- _*A BELATED ENQUIRER*_
-
-
-The youthful candidates had hardly left the room when the beadle,
-compared with whose solemnity the gravity of the elders was frivolity
-itself, announced that a further candidate was in waiting.
-
-"It's Mr. Borland," he said in an awed whisper--"Mr. David Borland. He
-wants to jine, Mr. Moderator," the beadle informed the court in much the
-same tone as is employed when death-warrants must be read. "An' it'll
-be on profession," he added, unable to forego the sensational
-announcement, "for he never jined no church afore." Then the beadle
-retreated with the mien that becomes an ecclesiastical sheriff.
-
-An instant later he reappeared with Mr. Borland, whom he left standing
-in the very centre of the room. The elders gazed wonderingly at the
-unexpected man.
-
-"Dinna break oot again," Robert McCaig whispered to the now tranquil
-Willie, fearful of another explosion; "it's no' often a kirk session has
-sic a duty to perform," and Willie responded by rising slightly and
-sitting down hard upon the contents of his coat-tail pocket, as though
-the fuse for the explosion were secreted there.
-
-David looked round upon the elders, in no wise abashed; he even nodded
-familiarly to two or three with whom he was more intimately acquainted.
-"It's a fine evening," he informed one nearest him, to the evident
-amazement of his brethren.
-
-The usual process began, one or two undertaking preliminary examination.
-
-"Have you ever joined before, Mr. Borland?" one of the elders asked him
-after a little.
-
-"Never joined a church before--haven't been much of a joiner," David
-answered cheerfully; "joined the Elks once in the States when I was a
-young fellow--an' they made it pretty interestin' for me," dispensing a
-conciliatory smile among the startled elders as he turned to catch
-another question.
-
-"What maks ye want to join, Mr. Borland?" enquired one of the new
-elders, hitherto silent. "What's yir motive, like? Hae ye got the root
-o' the matter in ye, div ye think?" he elaborated formally.
-
-David started somewhat violently, turning and looking his questioner
-full in the face. "Have I got what in me?" he cried--"what kind of a
-root? That's more than I can say, sir; I don't catch your meanin'."
-
-Dr. Fletcher interposed. "You're not familiar with our terms, Mr.
-Borland," he said reassuringly. "Mr. Aiken only wants to know why you
-feel impelled to become a member of the church--perhaps you could answer
-the question when it's put that way?"
-
-David's first sign of answer was to stoop and pick up a rather shapeless
-hat lying at his feet. This symptom decidedly alarmed the elders,
-several of them sitting up suddenly in their chairs as though fearful
-that so interesting a subject might escape. But David had evidently
-seized it only for purposes of reflection, turning it round and round in
-his hands, his eyes fixed upon the floor.
-
-"It was a queer kind of a reason," he began abruptly, clearing his
-throat with all the resonance of a trumpet--"but mebbe it ain't too bad
-a one after all. It was Madeline," he finally blurted out, staring at
-all the brethren in turn. "I knew she was goin' to join--an'--an' I
-wanted to keep up with her. If she's agoin' to heaven, I'm agoin'
-too--an' I reckon this here's the way," he added, feeling that the
-phraseology was not too ill-timed. Then he waited.
-
-"Very good, Mr. Borland--very good," the Moderator pronounced
-encouragingly. "But about--about your own soul. I'm sure we all hope
-you--you--realize your need, Mr. Borland. It's a sense of sin we all
-need, you know. I'm sure you feel you've been a sinner, Mr. Borland?"
-and the good man turned the most brotherly of faces upon the applicant.
-
-"Oh, yes," responded David agreeably; "oh, yes, I'm all right that
-way--I've been quite a sinner, all right. The only thing I'm afeart of
-is I've been 'most too good a sinner. I wisht I wasn't quite so handy
-at it," he went on gravely. "I reckon I've been about as bad as--as any
-of the deacons here," glancing towards the open-mouthed about him as he
-made the comparison, "an' some o' them's got quite a record, if all
-reports is true. I traded horses onct with Robert there," nodding
-familiarly in the direction of Mr. McCaig, "an' the first time we
-traded, he sinned pretty bad--but that's nothin'; bygones is
-bygones--an' anyhow, the second time we traded, I sinned pretty bad
-myself. So I'm all right that way, Doctor," he again assured the
-Moderator, making a last desperate effort to tie his hat into a knot.
-
-"I didna ken the mare was spavined, Moderator," Mr. McCaig broke in,
-gasping with emotion; "an' a meetin' o' session's no place for
-discussin' sic like matters onyway," he appealed vehemently. "Thae
-week-day things has nae richt to be mentioned here--a meetin' o' elders
-is no' a cattle fair," and Robert looked well pleased with this final
-stroke.
-
-"That's all right, Robert, that's all right," David returned in his most
-amiable tone; "don't get excited, Robert--we both traded with our eyes
-open. An' all these things makes life, anyhow--they all go to the
-weavin' of the web, as I say sometimes, an' besides----"
-
-But Robert's blood was up.
-
-"Onyhow, I didna swear," he exclaimed in a rising tone; "I didna say
-damn, Mr. Moderator--an' the horse-doctor tellt me as how the candidate
-afore us said damn mair nor aince when he found oot aboot the spavin.
-He'd mak a bonnie member o' the kirk!" and the elder's face glowed with
-righteous indignation.
-
-The Moderator cast about to avert the storm. "Maybe he was taken
-unawares," he interposed charitably; "any one might be overtaken in a
-fault. Did you, Mr. Borland--did you say what Mr. McCaig says you did?"
-as he turned a very kindly face on the accused.
-
-David was more intently employed than ever with his hat. "I won't say
-but what I mebbe did," he acknowledged, an unfamiliar confusion in his
-words. "You see, sir, I should a knowed a spavin when I seen it; the
-signs is awful easy told--an' that's what made me mad. So I said I was
-a fool--an' I said Robert here was an elder. An' I likely said both of
-us was--was that kind of a fool an' an elder, the kind he says I
-said--it's an awful handy describin' word," he added, nodding
-respectfully towards the Moderator's chair.
-
-"So I have heard, Mr. Borland," the Moderator replied, smiling
-reproachfully nevertheless, "though I think there are others just as
-good. However, if that is the worst sin you've been guilty of, I
-wouldn't say you're beyond the pale."
-
-"Oh, there's lots of things I've done, far worse than that," David
-exclaimed vigorously. "I don't allow that's a sin at all--that's just a
-kind of a spark out o' the chimney. I reckon nearly everybody, even
-ministers, says that--only they don't spell it just the same. I'd call
-that just a kind of splutter--an' everybody splutters sometimes. Robert
-there, he says 'bless my soul' when he gets beat on a trade--but he
-means just the same as me. Oh, yes," he went cheerfully on, "there's
-lots o' worse things than that against me. There's lots o' little weak
-spots about me; an' I'll tell them if you like--if the deacons'll do the
-same," he proposed, looking earnestly around for volunteers.
-
-There was no clamour of response, and it fell to Geordie Nickle again to
-break the silence.
-
-"These is no' the main things, David," he began solemnly. "Tell us, div
-ye trust the Saviour wi' yir soul?"
-
-David halted, the gravity of the question shading his face. "I think--I
-think I do," he ventured after a long pause. "I wouldn't trust it to no
-one else. My mother taught me that."
-
-"An' div ye want to follow Him, an' to let yir licht shine upon the
-world? Div ye want to be a guid soldier, an' wull ye try it, wi' His
-grace?" the old man asked tenderly.
-
-David's voice was very low. "I'm not very far on the road," he said
-falteringly, "an' I'm afeared there ain't much light in me--but I'd try
-an' do my best," he concluded earnestly.
-
-The venerable elder proceeded with his gentle art, leading the belated
-enquirer on from stage to stage, seeking to discover and disclose the
-hidden treasures of the soul. He was never slow to be convinced of
-goodness in any heart that he thought sincere, and it was not long till
-he turned to the Moderator, proposing, as before, that this new name
-should likewise be enrolled among those of the faithful.
-
-But one or two thought the examination hardly doctrinal enough, nor
-carried sufficiently far afield.
-
-"Perhaps Mr. Borland would give us a word or two regarding his views on
-the subject of temperance," suggested Morris Hall. He was a
-comparatively modern elder; in fact, he had been but recently reclaimed,
-one of the first-fruits of a spring revival, himself snatched from the
-vortex of intemperance and correspondingly severe upon all successors in
-his folly. For largeness of charity, as a rule, is to be found only
-with those who have been tempted and prevailed.
-
-"I'm not terrible well up on temperance," David began placidly; "but I
-don't mind givin' you my views--oh, no, not at all."
-
-Then he sank into silence, and the Moderator had finally to prompt him.
-"Very well, then, Mr. Borland, give us your views on the subject."
-
-"Well," David began hesitatingly, "my views on the subject of temperance
-is terrible simple. I really hardly ever take anything--never touch it
-at all except it's before or after meals," he assured the brethren
-earnestly, the younger men frowning a little, one or two of the older
-nodding approvingly. But none seemed to remark how generous was the
-margin this time-table provided for a man of moist propensities.
-
-"Sometimes, when I run acrost an old friend, if he looks kind o' petered
-out," David went on sympathetically, "sometimes then I have a view or
-two--most always soft stuff, though," he enlarged, looking hopefully
-towards his spiritual betters; "most generally they takes the same view
-as me," he informed them gravely; "my view is to take it an' let it
-alone--I do both--only I never do them both at the same time," he added
-seriously. "You see, when I'm well it doesn't hurt me, and when I'm
-sick--why, mebbe I need somethin'. That's one o' my views. An', oh,
-yes"--he hurried on as if glad that he had not forgotten, "I always take
-a little when a new century comes in--I took a little when the clock
-struck 1900; it's been a custom for quite awhile in our family, always
-to take a little when a new century comes in--a man has to be careful it
-doesn't grow on him, you see. So I confine it pretty much to them two
-occasions. An' I think them's pretty much all my views, gentlemen, on
-the subject o' liquors. The less views a man has on them, the better.
-It's the worst plague there is--an' I'm gettin' more set agin' it all
-the time," and David nodded to the elders in quite an admonitory way.
-
-But these views, simple and candid though they were, were far from
-satisfactory to Mr. Morris Hall, who violently declaimed against such
-laxity, and quoted statistics concerning poorhouses, jails and lunatic
-asylums in much the same tone, and with the same facility, that a boy
-exhibits when quoting the multiplication table. Mr. Hall concluded with
-an appeal to David's sense of shame.
-
-This was rather much for the gentle candidate, familiar as he was with
-the impeacher's record in days that were yet hardly dry.
-
-"There's one thing sure, anyhow," he returned hotly, in his intensity of
-feeling. "I didn't never have to be toted home on a stone-boat--that's
-one thing certain." This was a reference to authentic history of no
-ancient sort, and Mr. Hall's relapse to silence was as final as it was
-precipitate.
-
-Whereupon Geordie Nickle again reverted to his motion that Mr. Borland
-be received. He briefly reviewed the case, emphasizing the obvious
-simplicity and candour that had been remarked by all, while admitting
-David's evident unfamiliarity with the formulas and doctrines of the
-church.
-
-"But there's mony a man loves flowers wha disna ken naethin' aboot
-botany," he pleaded; "an' there's mony a soul luvin' Christ, an'
-trustin' till Him, wha kens little or naethin' aboot theology."
-
-This view seemed to prevail with the majority, and the proposal of the
-kindly elder would doubtless have been speedily endorsed, had it not
-been for the protest from David himself. "I'm terrible thankful for
-your kindness to a lame duck like me--but I believe I'd jest as soon
-wait awhile," he said. "I'll try an' follow up the best I can. But
-Dick Phin's comin' to visit me next week--Dick's an old crony I haven't
-seen for a dog's age. An' besides, Robert there has kind o' set me
-thinkin'; an' I jest minded Tom Taylor's comin' on Monday to try an'
-trade back the three-year-old he got in August. So I think mebbe I'd
-better wait. But I'll follow up the best I can."
-
-
-
-
- *X*
-
- _*SHELTERING SHADOWS*_
-
-
-Two chestnut steeds, securely tied, looked reproachfully at the
-retreating figures as Madeline and her father pressed on beneath the
-shadow of the great oaks that looked down upon the merry picnickers.
-For Glenallen's Sunday-school scholars were _en fte_ beneath them.
-Very gladly did these mighty guardians of the grove seem to welcome back
-the happy throng as each returning summer brought the festal day. And
-very tenderly did they seem to look down upon the varied
-pleasure-seekers that gathered beneath their whispering branches;
-children, in all the helplessness of childhood, mingling with other
-toddlers whose was the helplessness of age--little tots whose toilsome
-journey was at hand, and patriarchs whose weary pilgrimage was almost
-past. Many were there whose fathers' fathers, snatching a brief truce
-from their struggle with the poverty and stress of early days, had
-rested and rollicked as only pioneers know how; masters and men, their
-respective ranks forgotten, had sat side by side about the teeming
-board, or entered the lists together as they flung the bounding caber,
-or raced across the meadow-sward, or heaved the gleaming quoits, or
-strained the creaking cable in the final and glorious tug of war.
-
-As David Borland and his daughter drew near to the central group of
-picnickers, they found them employed in a very savoury task. They were
-emptying the baskets one by one, the good things translated
-promiscuously to the ample table around which all were about to take
-their places. Pies of every sort there were, cakes of every imaginable
-brand and magnitude, sandwiches, fruits, pickles, hams that would
-waddle, fowls that would cackle, tongues that would join the lowing
-choir, nevermore--all these conspired to swell the overflowing larder.
-
-Suddenly David's eyes fell on a face in the distance, a face for which
-he had long had a peculiar liking. It was Geordie Nickle's, the old man
-sitting apart on a little mound, his kindly eyes bright with gladness at
-the lively scene around him.
-
-"You go off an' have a swing, Madeline," he said; "I'm goin' to have a
-chat with my friend Geordie here--I'll see you in a little while."
-
-Madeline scarcely heard him nor did any response escape her lips. For
-other words had fallen on her ears, hot and tingling now with shame and
-indignation.
-
-"Isn't this the limit," a jibing voice was saying; "isn't this the human
-limit?--rhubarb tarts! Three of them! Who wants to buy a tin plate?"
-the voice went jeeringly on. It was Cecil Craig's voice, and he held
-the humble contributions aloft as he spoke.
-
-"There must be some awful rich folks here to-day--I guess these tarts
-are meant for the minister. That's all there is in the basket--so I
-guess some one must keep a rhubarb farm; look at the size of them--big
-as a full moon! I believe I'll give them to my horse," he cried with a
-contemptuous laugh. "Have you any idea who sent these, Harvey?" turning
-with the question to the conscious boy who stood on the outer edge of
-the circle.
-
-A few joined in thoughtless laughter. But it was no laughing matter for
-poor Harvey, trying now to steal alone and unnoticed from among the
-throng. Yet not alone; for one humble little form clung close beside
-him, retreating as rapidly as he, her face flushed and drawn. They had
-taken but a few steps when Jessie's hand stole caressingly into her
-brother's, the little legs trying eagerly to keep pace with his ardent
-stride.
-
-"Don't mind, Harvey, don't mind," she said soothingly. "He's just as
-mean as he can be. It's all because he's rich--an' he thinks we're
-poor. He doesn't know how good mother is at makin' tarts, or he
-wouldn't talk like that."
-
-Harvey glanced at his sister as though he scarcely saw her. His eyes,
-usually so mild, were now almost terrible in their fiery anger, and his
-hand closed so tightly over his sister's that she cried out in pain.
-Once he looked swiftly back and caught a glimpse of Cecil leering at him
-in the distance; he fixed his teeth tight together and strode swiftly
-on.
-
-"Aren't you goin' back, Harvey?" Jessie enquired a little wistfully.
-"I'm real hungry, Harvey--an' I saw chickens there, an' there was some
-peaches too--they looked awful nice," she said earnestly.
-
-"Going back!" Harvey almost shouted. "No, you bet I'm not going
-back--and neither are you; I'd starve before I'd touch a bite of their
-stuff. A lot of stuck-up things," he cried passionately, "and you and
-me cast out everywhere because we're poor! I'll show them yet--you just
-see if I don't; if I can get half a chance--and to think the way poor
-mother worked at them, and she thought she was making something real
-nice too, and----"
-
-"An' she put sugar in them too, Harvey--an' she hardly ever puts sugar
-in anything now. She put lots of butter an' sugar in, for I saw her.
-But ain't you goin' back, Harvey?--there's lemonade, you know, a whole
-boiler full of it. I tasted it and it was lovely," she assured him,
-looking wistfully up into the angry face.
-
-"The young whelp!" Harvey muttered wrathfully; "hasn't any more brains
-than a handspike--hasn't got anything but a rich, proud father--I'll fix
-him yet, you see if I don't." Suddenly he stopped, standing still as
-the trees around him. "Hello!" he said musingly, then began whistling
-significantly.
-
-"What's the matter, Harvey?" asked the mystified Jessie.
-
-"Oh, nothing--nothing at all. In fact, everything's all right--see that
-sorrel horse tied to that hemlock over there? It's Cecil Craig's."
-
-"Yes," replied Jessie wonderingly; "it's kickin' with its legs," she
-added informatively--"what's it doin' that for, Harvey?"
-
-"Flies," replied the other absently. "I say, Jessie," he began in quite
-a different tone, his brow clearing like a headland when the fog is
-lifting, "you better go on back and get your dinner--don't eat too
-much," he added cautiously, for Jessie, her hand still tight in his, had
-already turned right about face, her radiant gaze fixed on the distant
-tables; "and you know mother doesn't want you to take any
-stuffin'--you'll have to take castor oil if you eat any stuffin',
-Jessie."
-
-"Won't you go, Harvey?" his sister asked eagerly, supremely indifferent
-to matters medicinal; she was already pressing onward, half leading her
-brother by the hand. The boy started to refuse vigorously. Suddenly,
-however, he seemed to change his mind. "I'll go back with you for a
-minute, Jessie--just a minute, mind. I'll get you a seat if I can; but
-I'll have to come right away again. I've got--I've got to do
-something."
-
-The hungry Jessie asked no further information, well content, poor
-child, to regain the treat she had so nearly lost. Her hurrying legs
-twinkled in the sun as she led the way, Harvey following, half
-reluctantly, back to the appetizing scene. The boy looked at no one as
-he mingled with the excited throng; nor did many remark his return, so
-all absorbed are youthful minds in one pursuit alone when that pursuit
-leads to the dinner-table. This pleased Harvey well; and, confident of
-their indifference, he took his place beside the three bulky tarts that
-had been the text for Cecil's scorn.
-
-Good Dr. Fletcher's special care, at such a fte as this, was to see
-that all heads were reverently bowed while grace was being said. And so
-they were on this occasion, all but Harvey's. Availing himself of the
-opportune devotion, he thrust the unoffending tarts roughly within the
-shelter of his coat, buttoning it tightly over them, quite careless of
-results. Then, wild chaos and savage attack succeeding the reverent
-calm, while his ravenous companions fell upon the viands like starving
-animals, he quietly withdrew, holding his coat carefully about him as he
-went.
-
-
-David Borland and the venerable Geordie Nickle were deep in conversation
-as Harvey passed them by at a little distance, finding his way back to
-the outer fringe of woods.
-
-"Yon's an uncommon laddie," Geordie remarked to David, his staff pointed
-in the direction of the disappearing boy.
-
-"Who? Oh, yes--that's Harvey. You're right, Mr. Nickle; the grass
-doesn't grow very green under Harvey's feet. He works for me, you
-know--does a little drivin' between four and six."
-
-"Did ye hear aboot the minister, David? He was sair vexed wi' Mr.
-Craig; he went till him, ye ken, to get a wee bit help for the laddie's
-mither--her eyesicht's failin', it seems. An' Mr. Craig wudna gie him
-onythin'."
-
-David was busy kicking to pieces a slab of dead wood at his feet. "That
-man Craig makes me mad," he said warmly--"thinks he owns the earth
-'cause he's got a little money. He got the most of it from his father,
-anyhow--he hasn't got brains enough himself to make his head ache. An'
-it looks like the young cub's goin' to be a chip o' the old block; you
-can see it stickin' right out of him now," he declared, nodding towards
-the blustering Cecil, who was flinging his orders here and there.
-
-"I was thinkin' ower the maitter, David," the old man went on quietly;
-"I was thinkin' mebbe I micht gie the puir buddy a wee bit help
-mysel'--I hae a wee bit siller, ye ken, an' I haena vera muckle to dae
-wi't. Div ye think ye cud see aboot it, David?--aboot sendin' his mither
-till the city doctor, ye ken? I cud gie the money to yirsel', an'
-naebody need ken aboot it but us twa." Poor Geordie looked half ashamed
-as he made the offer; such is the fashion of his kind.
-
-"It's mighty clever of you," David answered, smiling a little curiously,
-"and I'd be terrible glad to fix it for you--only I happen to know it's
-fixed already. Just found that out to-day. A fellow sent the money to
-them--some fellow that doesn't want any one to know. But it's just as
-good of you, all the same, Mr. Nickle."
-
-"Oh, aye, aye, I ken," Geordie responded enigmatically, "aye--juist
-that."
-
-"Yes, he's a mighty smart boy," David resumed quickly, to hide a little
-embarrassment. "He works like a beaver all day; steady as a clock and
-bright as a dollar. It's a darned shame he hasn't got a better
-chance--that boy'd be heard from yet if he got some eddication," he
-concluded, opening the big blade of his jack-knife and beginning
-operations on a leafy limb he had just broken off.
-
-Geordie's face was full of sympathetic interest. "Div ye ken, David,
-I've been thinkin' the same aboot the laddie. Dr. Fletcher tellt me
-aboot him first--an' I've been enquirin', an' watchin' him a wee bit in
-a canny kind o' a way, since the nicht he jined the kirk. An' I've got
-a wee bit plan, David--I've got a wee bit plan."
-
-"Yes, Mr. Nickle?" David responded encouragingly, throwing away the
-leafy limb and sitting squarely round.
-
-"It's no' quite a fittin' time to mak ony promises," the cautious
-Scotchman went on, seeing that David expected him to continue. "But ye
-ken, David, I hae neither wife nor bairns noo; they're a' wi' God," he
-added, bowing reverently, "an' yon laddie kind o' minds me o' wee
-Airchie--Airchie died wi' the scarlet fever. An' I've been thinkin',
-David, I've been thinkin' I never spent the siller that wud hae gone for
-Airchie's schoolin'. Ye ken, David, div ye no'?"
-
-David knew not how to answer. But his heart was more nimble than his
-lips. "I was awful sorry when you lost your little boy," he said, his
-eyes upon the ground; "I never had a son myself--so you're better off
-nor me."
-
-
-
-
- *XI*
-
- _*FOOD FOR THOUGHT*_
-
-
-One pair of eyes, at least, had watched Harvey's unostentatious retreat
-from the clamorous throng about the table. And no sooner had Madeline
-noted his departure than she quietly slipped into the vacant place
-beside his sister, who welcomed her with a smile as generous as the
-absorbing intensity of the moment would permit. Madeline's cheeks were
-still rosy with the flush of angry resentment that Cecil's cruel words
-had started. Twice had he taken his place beside her at the table, and
-twice she had moved away; even now his eyes seemed to follow her,
-casting conciliatory glances that found no response.
-
-The picnic feast was finally concluded--but not till sheer physical
-inability proclaimed a truce--and Madeline and Jessie withdrew together.
-
-"Let's go down into the gully, Jessie," Madeline suggested, pointing
-towards a slight ravine a little way in the distance; "I think we'd find
-flowers there, perhaps."
-
-Jessie was agreed. "But I wish Harvey would come," she said; "I wonder
-where he is--he went away just when we began our dinner."
-
-"Oh, he's all right," replied the older girl. "I saw him going
-away--he'll be back in a little."
-
-"An' I didn't see--I didn't see the rhubarb tarts mother made," Jessie
-continued, her mind still busy with the missing. "You don't suppose
-Cecil Craig threw them away, do you?" she asked, suddenly fearful; "he's
-so mean."
-
-"Don't let's speak about him at all," Madeline interrupted. "The tarts
-are all right," she went on consolingly. "I saw one boy very--very busy
-with them," she concluded dexterously. "Besides," she added, the
-connection not so obvious as her tone would indicate, "I've got
-something to say to you, Jessie--sit down; sit down beside me here."
-
-Jessie obeyed and they sank together on a mossy mound, a few stately
-oaks and maples whispering welcome; for they were jealous trees, and had
-begrudged the central grove its throng of happy children, the merry
-scene just visible from their topmost boughs.
-
-"I've got awful good news for you, Jessie," Madeline began ardently,
-after a momentary struggle as to how she should introduce the subject.
-
-"What's it about?" Jessie asked, her eyes opening wide.
-
-"It's about your mother," answered Madeline.
-
-Jessie looked gravely at the other.
-
-"Anything about the tarts?" she enquired earnestly, her mind still
-absorbed with the tragedy.
-
-"No, no--of course it's not about anything like that. It's about her
-eyes--I'm pretty sure they're going to get well."
-
-Jessie's own were dancing. "Who said so? Why? Tell me quick."
-
-"Well, I know all about everything," Madeline replied, importantly. "I
-know about you wanting to take her to the doctor in the city--and she's
-going to go," she affirmed conclusively.
-
-"When?" Jessie demanded swiftly.
-
-"Any time--to-morrow, if you like," Madeline returned triumphantly,
-withdrawing her hand from her bosom and thrusting the crisp notes into
-Jessie's; "my father gave me all that money to-day--and it's to pay the
-doctor--it's to pay everything," she amended jubilantly. "Only father
-doesn't want any one to know who did it--when do you think she'll go,
-Jessie?" she asked, a little irrelevantly, for matters had taken a
-rather unexpected turn.
-
-Jessie was staring at her through swimming eyes, the import of the great
-moment too much for her childish soul. Her mother's face passed before
-her, beautiful in its tender patience; and all the pathos of the long
-struggle, so nearly over now, broke upon the little mind that knew not
-what pathos meant except by the slow tuition of a sorrow-clouded life.
-Poor child, she little knew by what relentless limitations even great
-city doctors may be bound.
-
-"Is it because you're glad, Jessie?" Madeline enquired in a reverent
-sort of voice, dimly diagnosing the paradox of human joy. But Jessie
-answered never a word; her gaze was fixed downward now upon the money,
-such a sum of it as she had never seen before in her poor meagre life.
-And the big tears fell on the unconscious things lying in her lap, the
-poor dead symbols baptized and quickened by the living tokens of human
-love and feeling.
-
-"Oh, yes," she sobbed at last, "it's 'cause I'm glad--mother'll be able
-to see the flowers now, an' the birds, an' everything--she loves them
-so. An' poor Harvey won't have to spend his raspberry money; he hasn't
-any winter coat, but now--I'm nearly as glad for Harvey as I am for
-mother," she broke off, suddenly drying her eyes, the ever-ready smile
-of childhood returning to the playground from which the tears had driven
-it.
-
-"What makes you so glad about Harvey?" Madeline broke in, hailing the
-returning smile with one no less radiant of her own.
-
-"Because--because mother was sorrier about Harvey than anything else.
-You see, he's nearly ready to--to be a scholar. An' mother always said
-she'd be able to do everything for Harvey--everything like that, you
-know--if she could only see. Our Harvey's goin' to be a great man--if
-he gets a chance," she prophesied solemnly, looking straight into
-Madeline's face, the bills quite forgotten now, one or two of them
-having fallen among the leaves upon the grass.
-
-"Mind you, our Harvey isn't always goin' to be poor--mother says there's
-lots of rich people gets poor, an' lots of poor people gets rich. An'
-that's what Harvey's goin' to be--an' mother an' me's goin' to help
-him," the little loyalist proclaimed, her face beaming with confidence.
-
-This opened up quite a vein of conversation, to which the youthful minds
-addressed themselves for a serious season. Finally, forgetting all
-philosophic matters, Jessie exclaimed: "I wonder where Harvey is--he
-doesn't often leave me alone like this. Won't he be glad though?--I'm
-goin' to find Harvey."
-
-
-Little did either of them dream how the object of their wonderings had
-been employed while they were sequestered in their peaceful nook.
-
-Having left the table, Harvey loitered about till varying sounds assured
-him that the meal he had abandoned was completed. Then he strode along
-till he stood beside the drowsy sorrel, still doing spasmodic battle
-with the flies. Unbuttoning his coat, he removed the tarts and hid them
-in a hollow log; their confinement had not improved them much. Then he
-stood a while, pondering. A relieved and purposeful expression at
-length indicated that his mind was formed. But considerable time
-elapsed before a wandering urchin hove in sight--and such a being was
-absolutely necessary. The boy who thus suddenly appeared was evidently
-bent on an inspection of the animal, looking even from afar with the
-critical eye that universal boyhood turns upon a horse. The youngster
-drifted nearer and nearer; he was contriving to chew a slab of tamarack
-gum and eat an apple at one and the self-same time, which tempered his
-gait considerably.
-
-Harvey nimbly slipped the noose in the bridle rein, the strap dangling
-free; the horse was quite oblivious, trying to snatch a little sleep
-between skirmishes.
-
-"Hello there!" Harvey called to the boy, "come here--I want you to run a
-message."
-
-The boy responded with a slightly quickened pace, and was almost at his
-side when he suddenly stood still and emitted a dreary howl.
-
-"What's the matter?" Harvey asked, slightly alarmed, the sorrel waking
-completely and looking around at the newcomer.
-
-"I bit my tongue," the urchin wailed, disgorging his varied grist as he
-spoke. The dual process had been too complicated for him and he
-cautiously pasted the gum about a glass alley, storing both away in his
-breeches pocket. Then he bent his undivided powers upon the apple.
-
-"That'll soon be all right," Harvey assured him--"rub it with your
-gums," he directed luminously. "Don't you see that horse is
-loose?--well, I want you to run back and tell Cecil Craig his horse has
-got untied; don't tell him who said so."
-
-"What'll you give me?" enquired he of the wounded tongue, extending the
-injured member with telescopic fluency, squinting one eye violently down
-to survey it. "Is it bleedin'?" he asked tenderly.
-
-"No--'tisn't even cut," Harvey responded curtly, examining it seriously,
-nevertheless, with the sympathy that belongs to boyhood. "Let it
-back--you look like a jay-bird."
-
-The other withdrew it reluctantly, the distorted eye slowly recovering
-its orbit till it rested on Harvey's face. "What'll you give me?" he
-asked again, making another savage onslaught on the apple.
-
-Harvey fumbled in his pocket, rather dismayed. But his face lightened as
-his hand came forth. "I'll give you this tooth-brush," he said, holding
-out a sorely wasted specimen. "I found it on the railroad track--some
-one dropped it, I guess. Or I'll give you this garter," exposing a
-gaudy circlet of elastic, fatigued and springless; "I found it after the
-circus moved away."
-
-The smaller boy's face lit up a moment at reference to the sacred
-institution whose departure had left life so dreary.
-
-"Charlie Winter found a shirt-stud an' half a pair of braces there," he
-said sympathetically; "he gave the shirt-stud to his sister, but he
-wears the braces hisself," he added, completing the humble tale.
-
-"Which'll you take?" Harvey enquired abruptly, fearful lest the sorrel
-might awaken to his liberty.
-
-"I don't want that," the younger said contemptuously, glancing at the
-emaciated tooth-brush; "we've got one at home--a better one than that.
-An' I don't wear garters," he added scornfully, glancing downwards at
-his bare legs, "except on Sundays, an' I've got one for that--the left
-leg never comes down. Haven't you got anything else?" he queried,
-looking searchingly in the direction of Harvey's pocket.
-
-"No, that's all I've got," returned Harvey as he restored the
-tooth-brush to its resting-place, still hopeful, however, of the garter.
-"It'll make an awful good catapult," he suggested seriously.
-
-"Let me see it," said the bargainer.
-
-Harvey handed it to him. "I'll hold your apple," he offered.
-
-"Oh, never mind," the other replied discreetly; "I'll just hold it in my
-mouth," the memory of similar service and its tragic outcome floating
-before him. The boy took the flaming article in his hand and drew it
-back, snapping it several times against the sole of his uplifted foot.
-
-"All right," he said, withdrawing what survived of the apple, "it's a
-little mushy--but I'll take it."
-
-The errand having been repeated in detail, the youngster departed to
-perform it, an apple stem--but never a core--falling by the wayside as
-he went. Harvey gazed towards the brow of the hill till he caught the
-first glimpse of a hurrying form, then slipped in behind the tree,
-carefully concealed.
-
-Cecil Craig came apace, for he could see the dangling strap at a little
-distance. Hurriedly retying the horse, he was about to retrace his
-steps when he suddenly felt himself in the grip of an evidently hostile
-hand, securely attached from behind to the collar of his coat.
-
-"Now you can ask me those questions if you like," he heard a rather
-hoarse voice saying; and writhing round he looked into a face flaming
-with a wrath that was rekindling fast.
-
-Young Craig both squirmed and squealed; but the one was as fruitless as
-the other. Harvey was bent on dealing faithfully with him; and lack of
-spirit, rather than of strength, made the struggle a comparatively
-unequal one. After the preliminary application was completed, he
-dragged Craig to where he had hidden the rhubarb tarts, still
-crestfallen from solitary confinement.
-
-"Why don't you make some more jokes about the tarts my mother made?"
-Harvey enquired hotly; "you were real funny about them just before
-dinner." This reference to his mother seemed to fan the flame of his
-wrath anew, and another application was the natural result.
-
-"Let me go," Cecil gasped. "I was only joking--ouch! I was just joking,
-I say," as he tried to release himself from Harvey's tightening grip.
-
-"So'm I," retorted Harvey; "just a piece of play, the same as
-yours--only we're kind o' slow at seeing the fun of it, eh?" shaking the
-now solemn humourist till his hair rose and fell--"I'd have seen the
-point a good deal quicker if my mother hadn't worked so hard," he went
-on, flushing with the recollection and devoting himself anew to the
-facetious industry. "Pick up those tarts," he thundered suddenly.
-
-Cecil looked incredulously at his antagonist. One glance persuaded him
-and he slowly picked up one by the outer edge.
-
-"Take 'em all--the whole three," Harvey directed in a low tense tone.
-Which Cecil immediately did, not deeming the time opportune to refuse.
-
-"Now give them to your horse," Harvey said; "you know you said you'd a
-good mind to feed him with them."
-
-"I won't do it," Cecil declared stoutly. "I'll fight before I do it."
-
-Harvey smiled. "It won't do to have any fighting," he said amiably.
-"I'll just give them to him myself--you better come along," he
-suggested, tightening his grip as he saw Cecil glancing fondly towards
-the brow of the hill, visions of a more peaceful scene calling him to
-return.
-
-Harvey escorted his captive to the horse's head; the equine was now wide
-awake and taking a lively interest in the animated interview; such
-preparations for mounting he had never seen before. But he was
-evidently disinclined to be drawn into the argument; for when Harvey
-held the rhubarb pie, rather battle-worn now, beneath his nose, he
-sniffed contemptuously and turned scornfully away.
-
-Cecil, somewhat convalescent, indulged a sneering little laugh. "Your
-little joke don't work," he said. "Pompey won't look at "em."
-
-"You'll wish he had, before you're through with them," Harvey returned
-significantly--"you've got to eat them between you."
-
-"Got to what?--between who?" Cecil gasped, years of grammatical
-instruction wasted now as the dread prospect dawned grim and gray; "I
-don't understand you," he faltered, turning remarkably white for one so
-utterly in the dark.
-
-"It doesn't need much understanding," Harvey returned laconically. "Go
-ahead."
-
-Then the real struggle began; compared to this difference of opinion,
-and the physical demonstration wherein it found expression, the previous
-encounter was but as kittens' frolic in the sun.
-
-The opening argument concluded after a protracted struggle, Harvey
-emerged uppermost, still pressing his hospitality upon the prostrate
-Cecil. "May as well walk the plank," he was saying; "besides, they're
-getting dryer all the time," he informed him as a friend.
-
-"Let me up," gurgled Cecil. Harvey promptly released him; seated on a
-log, the latter began to renew the debate.
-
-"I've had my dinner," he pleaded; "an' I ate all I could."
-
-"A little more won't hurt you--always room at the top, you know. Anyhow
-it's just dessert," responded Harvey, holding out one of the tarts.
-Whereat Cecil again valiantly refused--and a worthy demonstration
-followed.
-
-The conquered at last kissed the rod and the solemn operation began,
-Harvey cheerfully breaking off chunk after chunk and handing them to the
-weary muncher. "There's lots of poor children in New York would be glad
-to get them," he said in answer to one of Cecil's most vigorous
-protests.
-
-"Say," murmured the stall-fed as he paused, almost mired in the middle
-of tart number two, "let me take the rest home an' eat 'em there--I'll
-really eat 'em--on my honour; I promise you," he declared solemnly.
-
-"I'm surprised a fellow brought up like you would think of carryin'
-stuff home to eat it--that's bad form. Here, take it--shut your eyes
-and open your mouth," commanded his keeper, holding another generous
-fragment to his lips.
-
-"I say," gulped Cecil plaintively, "give us a drink--it's chokin' me."
-
-"Shouldn't drink at your meals," returned Harvey; "bad for your
-digestion--but I guess a drop or two won't hurt you. Here, come this
-way--put on your cap--an' fetch that along," pointing at the surviving
-tart; "the exercise'll do you good," and he led the way downwards to a
-little brook meandering through the woods. No hand was on the victim's
-collar now; poor Cecil was in no shape for flight.
-
-"Give us your cap," said Harvey, thrusting it into the sparkling water
-and holding the streaming receptacle to Cecil's lips; "that's
-enough--that'll do just now; don't want you to get foundered."
-
-"I've had enough," groaned the guest a minute later, as if the moment
-had only come; "I've got it nearly all down--an' I hate crusts. I
-won't; by heavens, I tell you I won't," bracing himself as vigorously as
-his cargo would permit.
-
-"I'm the one to say when you've had enough," Harvey retorted shortly,
-throwing himself into battle array as he spoke, "an' you bet you'll eat
-the crusts--I'll teach you to eat what's set before you an' make no
-remarks about the stuff--specially when it's not your own," he said,
-reverting to the original offense and warming up at the recollection.
-"You'd make a great fight, wouldn't you--fightin' you'd be like fightin'
-a bread-puddin'," he concluded scornfully.
-
-Cecil munched laboriously on. "There," Harvey suddenly interrupted,
-"now you've had enough--that wasn't rhubarb you were eatin'," he flung
-contemptuously at him; "'twas crow--an' that'll teach you to make sport
-of folks you think beneath you. You'll have some food for thought for a
-while--you'd better walk round a bit," he concluded with a grin as he
-turned and strode away, leaving the inlaid Cecil alone with his burdened
-bosom.
-
-
-
-
- *XII*
-
- _*THE ENCIRCLING GLOOM*_
-
-
-Real boyhood, with its cheerfulness amid present cares and its oblivion
-to those that were yet to come, was almost past. Such at least would
-have been the opinion of any accurate observer if he had noted Harvey's
-face that summer morning as he pressed along the city street. A deeper
-seriousness than mere years bestow looked out from the half-troubled,
-half-hopeful gaze; not that it was ill-becoming--the contrary
-rather--for there was something of steady resoluteness in his eyes that
-attested his purpose to play some worthy part in this fevered life whose
-stern and warlike face had already looked its challenge to his own.
-
-How pathetic were many a poor procession--and how romantic too--if we
-could but see the invisibles that accompany the humblest trudgers on the
-humblest street!
-
-For Memory and Hope and Fear and Sorrow and silent Pain--Death too,
-noiselessly pursuing--and Love, chiefest of them all, mute and anguished
-often-times, crowding Death aside and battling bravely in the shadowy
-struggle; how often might all these be seen accompanying the lowly, had
-we but the lightened vision!
-
-Thus was it there that summer day. The careless noticed nothing but a
-well developed lad, his poor clothes as carefully repaired and brushed
-as faithful hands could make them for his visit to the city; and they
-saw beside him only a white-faced woman, her whole mien marked by
-timidity and gentleness, as if she felt how poor and small was the part
-she played in the surging life about her. Both made their way
-carefully, keeping close in under the shadow of the buildings, as if
-anxious to escape the jostling throng. The woman's hand was in her
-son's; she seemed to be trusting altogether to his guidance and
-protection, and very tenderly he shielded her from the little perils of
-the street. Timidly, yet right eagerly, they made their way--for the
-quest was a great one; and all the years to come, they knew, were
-wrapped in the bosom of that anxious hour.
-
-"Hadn't we better get on one of those street cars, mother?" the boy
-asked, glancing wistfully at a passing trolley. "I'm sure you're
-tired."
-
-"How much does it cost, Harvey?" the mother asked.
-
-"I'm not very sure, but I think it's ten cents for us both," he
-answered, relaxing his pace.
-
-The mother pressed on anew. "We can't afford it, dear," she said;
-"it'll take such a lot to pay the doctor--we'll have to save all we can;
-and I'm not very tired," she concluded, taking his hand again.
-
-When, after much of scrutiny and more of enquiry, they stood at length
-before the doctor's imposing place, both instinctively stopped and gazed
-a little, the outlines of the stately house floating but very dimly
-before the woman's wistful eyes.
-
-"Will we ask him how much it costs before we go in?" Harvey's mother
-asked him anxiously.
-
-The boy pondered a moment. "I don't think so," he said at length; "he
-mightn't like it."
-
-"But perhaps we haven't got enough."
-
-"Well, we can send the rest after we get home--I've got the raspberry
-money left."
-
-The woman sighed and smiled together, permitting herself to be led on up
-the steps.
-
-Harvey's hand was on the bell: "You don't suppose he'll do anything to
-you, will he, mother? He won't hurt you, will he?"
-
-"No, no, child, of course not; he'll make me well," his mother said
-reassuringly. In a moment the bell was answered and the excited pair
-were ushered in.
-
-Nothing could have been more kindly than their reception at the hands of
-the eminent doctor; nor could the most distinguished patient have been
-more carefully and sympathetically examined. Almost breathless, Harvey
-sat waiting for the verdict.
-
-But the doctor was very vague in his conclusions. "You must use this
-lotion. And--and we'll hope for the best," he said; "and whenever
-you're in the city you must come and see me--don't make a special trip
-for that purpose, of course," he added cautiously.
-
-"Why?" Harvey asked acutely.
-
-The doctor made an evasive reply. Harvey's face was dark.
-
-"How much is it?" he said in a hollow voice, his hand going to his
-pocket as he spoke.
-
-"Oh, that's not important--we'll just leave that till you're in the city
-again," said the kindly doctor, shaking Harvey playfully by the
-shoulder.
-
-"I'd sooner pay it now, sir; I've got--I've got some money," declared
-the boy.
-
-"Well, all right," returned the physician; "let me see--how would a
-dollar appeal to you? My charge will be one dollar," he said gravely.
-
-Harvey was busy unwinding his little roll. "It's not very much," he
-said without looking up; "I thought 'twould be a lot more than that--I
-haven't got anything smaller than five dollars, sir."
-
-"Neither have I--what a rich bunch we are," the doctor answered quickly;
-"I tell you--I'm liable to be up in Glenallen some of these days for a
-bowling match; I'll just collect it then," leading the way towards the
-door as he spoke, his farewell full of cordial cheer.
-
-
-Neither mother nor son uttered a word till they were some little
-distance from the doctor's office. Suddenly the former spoke.
-
-"The world's full of trouble, Harvey--but I believe it's fuller of
-kindness. It's wonderful how many tender-hearted folks there are.
-Wasn't it good of him?"
-
-Harvey made no answer, but his hand loosened itself from hers. "I
-believe I--I forgot something," he said abruptly. "Just wait here,
-mother; I'll be back in just a minute--you can rest here, see," leading
-her to a bench on the green sward of a little crescent not much more
-than half a stone's throw away.
-
-A minute later he was back in the doctor's office, the surprised
-physician opening the door himself. "What's the matter, boy--forgotten
-something?" he queried.
-
-"No," Harvey answered stoutly, his face very white; "but I knew you
-didn't tell me everything, sir--and I want to know. I want you to tell
-me now, quick--mother's waiting."
-
-"Why do you want to know, laddie?"
-
-"Because she's my mother, sir. And I've got a little sister at
-home--and I'm going to take care of them both; and I want to know if
-mother's eyes are going to get better, sir," he almost panted, one
-statement chasing the other as fast as the words could come.
-
-The doctor's face was soft with grave compassion; long years of
-familiarity with human suffering had not chilled that sacred fire.
-Putting his arm about the youth's shoulder, he drew the throbbing form
-close to him. "My boy," he began in a low voice, "I won't deceive you.
-Your mother's eyesight is almost gone. But still," he hastened on as
-the lad started and turned his pleading eyes up to the doctor's face,
-"it might come back--you can never tell. It's an affection of the optic
-nerve--it's often aggravated by a violent shock of some kind--and I've
-had cases where it did come back. It might return, lad, might come very
-slowly or very suddenly--and I can say no more than that."
-
-The poor boy never moved; the mournful eyes never wandered an instant
-from the doctor's face. The silence seemed long; at least to the
-physician. One or two patients had arrived meantime, waiting in the
-outer room--and a coachman's shining hat could be seen through the
-spacious window. But it did not dawn on Harvey that such a doctor could
-have any other care in all the world, or any serious duty except such as
-now engrossed them both.
-
-"What are you going to do?" the physician said presently.
-
-"I'm going back to my mother," the boy answered simply, picking up his
-hat.
-
-"Oh, yes," and the other repressed a smile; "but I mean--what are you
-going to do at home? What will you go at in Glenallen--you go to
-school, don't you?"
-
-"I'm going to work all the time," Harvey replied resolutely, moving
-along the hall.
-
-The doctor's hand was on the door. "I'm sorry for you, my lad," he said
-gently. "But there's always hope--we're all God's patients after all,"
-he added earnestly.
-
-Harvey put his hand against the opening door, his face turning in
-fullness of candour and trust towards the doctor.
-
-"I've prayed about mother for a long time," he said; "is it any use to
-keep on, sir? You're a specialist and you ought to know."
-
-The doctor closed the door quite tight. "Don't let any specialist
-settle that matter for you," he said a little hoarsely. "It often seems
-as if the good Lord wouldn't begin till they get through. So you pray
-on, my lad--for there's no healing, after all, but comes from God."
-Then he opened the door and the broken-hearted went out into the street.
-
-Suffused and dim, blinking bravely through it all, were the mournful
-eyes as Harvey retraced his steps towards his mother; swift and deep was
-the train of thought that wound its way through his troubled mind. For
-there is no ally to deep and earnest thinking like a loving heart that
-anguish has bestirred--all true quickening of our mental faculties is
-the handiwork of the soul. Harvey saw the trees, the sky, the birds
-between--all different now, more precious, more wonderful to behold; for
-he saw them in the light of his mother's deepening darkness, and the
-glory of all that was evanishing from her appeared the more beautiful,
-pitifully beautiful, to his own misty eyes.
-
-Involuntarily he thought of the future; of the twilight years that lay
-beyond--and his inward eyes turned shuddering away. The years that were
-past, those at least that had come and gone before the threatening
-shadow first appeared, seemed to lie behind him like a lane of light.
-Poverty and obscurity and sorrow and care had been well content to abide
-together in their humble home--almost their only guests save love. Yet
-his memory now of those earlier years was only of their gladness, their
-happiness, their light--all the rest had vanished like a dream when one
-awakes. He remembered only that they two, the fatherless, had been wont
-to look deep and lovingly into the eyes that looked back their wealth of
-fondness into the children's faces--night or day, day or night, that
-light was never quenched; they could see her and she could see them--and
-to look was to possess, though his early thoughts could not have defined
-this mystic truth, cherish it fondly though they did. But for the
-future--ah me! for the future, with blindness in a mother's eyes.
-
-
-Yet Harvey's thought, swift and pensive as it was, was troubled by no
-prospect of burden for himself and by no apprehension of all the load
-that must be moved, under cover of the fast-falling dark, from his
-mother's shoulders to his own. His thought was what must be called
-heart-thought, and that alone. If a fleeting view of new
-responsibilities, or a melting picture of his sister's face, hung for a
-moment before the inward eye, it retreated fast before the great vision
-that flooded his soul with tenderness, the vision of a woman--and she
-his mother--sitting apart in the silence and the dark, the busy hands
-denied the luxury of work, the ever-open Bible closed before her, the
-great world of beauty receding into shadow; and, most of all, there rose
-before him the image of her face, unresponsive and unsmiling when the
-tender eyes of her own children should fall upon it, mutely searching,
-yearning silently for the answering sunshine of days that would come no
-more.
-
-Without a word Harvey took his seat beside his mother. Her hand slipped
-quietly out and took his own, but without speech or sound--and in that
-moment Harvey learned, as he had never known before, how cruel are the
-lips of silence. Suddenly he noticed a cab, rolling idly along, the
-driver throwing his eyes hither and thither, poising like a kingfisher
-for its plunge.
-
-The boy raised his hand in signal and the cabby swooped down upon him
-like one who has found his prey.
-
-"Get in, mother--we'll drive back," he said quietly.
-
-His mother, startled beyond measure at the prospect of extravagance so
-unwonted, began to remonstrate, almost refusing. But a different note
-seemed to have come into Harvey's voice, his words touched with
-something that indicated a new era, something of the authority that
-great compassion gives, and in a moment she found herself yielding with
-a dependent confidence she had never felt before.
-
-"Where to?" asked the man.
-
-"Anywhere," said Harvey--"somewhere near the station; I'll tell you
-where."
-
-"It'll--it'll cost a dollar," the man ventured, his hand still on the
-door and his eyes making a swift inventory of the boy's rather
-unpromising apparel.
-
-"I'll pay you," the latter answered sternly. "Shut the door; close the
-window too," he ordered--"close both the windows. And don't drive
-fast."
-
-The spendthrift impulse must have been heaven-born and that vagrant
-chariot been piloted from afar. For they two within felt something of
-sanctuary peace as the driver vanished to his place and they found
-themselves alone--alone with each other and the sorrow that was deep and
-thrilling as their love. They could hear and feel the busy tide of life
-about them; the pomp of wealth and the tumult of business frowned from
-towering mansions, or swept indifferent by, knowing nothing, caring
-less, about those nestling two who were all alone in the mighty
-city--but they had each other, and the haughty world was shut out from
-them, all its cruel grandeur, all its surging billows powerless to rob
-them of what their stricken hearts held dear. And, if the truth were
-told, many a stately house and many a flashing carriage that passed them
-by, held less of love's real wealth than did the mud-bespattered cab
-that creaked and rumbled on its way.
-
-Several minutes elapsed before either spoke. Then the mother turned
-towards the silent lad, her face sweet in the wistful smile that stole
-across it.
-
-"Did you find what you went back for, dear?" she asked.
-
-Harvey cast one sharp agonized glance towards the gentle face--and it
-told him all. He knew then that the pain of either concealing or
-revealing was to be spared him; but his heart leaped in pity and in
-boundless love as he saw the light upon the worn face, the brave and
-tender signal that he knew the wounded spirit had furnished all for him.
-
-He spoke no answer to her words; he knew that she expected none. But
-the answer came nevertheless, and in richer language than halting words
-could learn. For he rose half erect in the carriage, careless as to
-whether the world's disdainful eye might see, his arms stealing around
-the yielding and now trembling form with a strength and passion that
-were the gift of the first really anguished hour his life had ever
-known.
-
-The woman felt its power, caught its message, even inwardly rejoiced in
-the great security; pavilion like to this she had never found before in
-all her storm-swept life.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," she murmured at last, "Harvey, my son, God's been good to
-me; I'm almost happy when--when I feel how much you are to me now--and
-Jessie too," she added quickly; "poor Jessie--it'll be hard for her."
-
-Mutely, reverently, guided from on high, Harvey strove to speak the
-burden of his heart. But it ended only in tears and tender tokens of
-hand and lip, his sorrow outpouring the story of its pity and devotion
-as best it could.
-
-"I'll always take care of you, mother," he whispered; "always--just like
-you've taken care of us. And we'll wait till you get better,
-mother--we'll wait together."
-
-His mother's fingers were straying about his hair. "I know it, darling,"
-she said; "some ways I'm so poor, Harvey; but other ways I'm wonderfully
-rich--the highest ways. And now, Harvey," straightening up as she
-spoke, "there's something I want to attend to. You must tell the man to
-drive to a store where we get clothes--coats and things, you know. I
-want to get something."
-
-"What?" asked Harvey suspiciously.
-
-"It's for you. It's a winter coat--you know you haven't one, Harvey."
-
-Then followed a stout protest and then a vigorous debate. But the
-mother conquered. "You mustn't forget that I'm your mother, Harvey,"
-she finally urged, and Harvey had no response for that. But after they
-had alighted and the purchase had been duly made he contrived to
-withdraw the genial salesman beyond reach of his mother's hearing.
-
-"Have you got something the same price as this?" he asked hurriedly;
-"something for a lady--a cloak, or a dressing-gown--one that would fit,
-you know," he said, glancing in the direction of his mother.
-
-The clerk was responsive enough; in a moment the exchange was effected,
-and Harvey, his mother's arm linked with his, led the way out to the
-crowded street.
-
-They made their way back to the station. As Harvey passed within its
-arching portals, he bethought himself sadly of the high hope, now almost
-dead and gone, that had upborne his heart when last he had passed
-beneath them. It seemed like months, rather than a few hours, so
-charged with suspense and feeling had those hours been.
-
-The train was in readiness and they were soon settled for the homeward
-journey. But scarcely had they begun to move when the door before them
-opened and Cecil Craig made his appearance. He evidently knew that
-Harvey and his mother were aboard, for his eye roamed enquiringly over
-the passengers, resting as it fell on the two serious faces. Suddenly he
-seemed to note that Harvey had pre-empted the seat opposite to the one
-on which he and his mother had taken their places; a small valise and
-the parcel containing the surreptitious purchase were lying on it.
-Whereupon Cecil strode forward. "Take those things off," he
-hectored--"Want the whole train to yourself? Don't you know that's
-against the rules--I want to sit there."
-
-Harvey had not seen him approaching, for his eyes had been furtively
-studying his mother's face. He started, looking up at Cecil almost as
-though he were not there; then he quietly removed the encumbrances and
-even turned the seat for Cecil to take his place. He wondered dumbly to
-himself what might be the cause of this strange calmness, this absolute
-indifference; he did not know how a master-sorrow can make all lesser
-irritations like the dust.
-
-"Keep it," Cecil said insolently. "I'm going back to the Pullman--I
-wanted to see who'd walk the plank to-day," casting at Harvey a
-contemptuous sneer the latter did not even see. And no thought of
-Cecil, or his insult, or his phantom triumph, mingled with Harvey's
-grave reflections as they rolled swiftly homeward; he had other matters
-to consider, of more importance far.
-
-
-
-
- *XIII*
-
- _*THE DEWS OF SORROW*_
-
-
-The dusk was gathering about them as the returning travellers wended
-their way along the almost deserted street. The dim outline of the
-slumbering hills could be seen across the river--for Glenallen had grown
-in a circle upon surrounding heights--and as Harvey's eyes rested now
-and again upon them in the dying light of the summer day, he felt a
-secret sense of help and comfort, as if some one knew and cared for his
-clouded life. It seemed good to walk these streets again--so different
-from those of the city--with the familiar faces and the kindly voices;
-and often was he stopped and questioned, not without delicacy and chaste
-reserve, as to the outcome of their pilgrimage. Which gave his heart
-some balm, at least for the moment.
-
-"Look, mother," he cried suddenly, forgetting in his eagerness; "look--I
-can see our light," his face glowing as if the gleam were from palace
-windows. His mother raised her head quickly, as if she also saw.
-Perhaps it was even clearer to her, though she beheld it not. But
-together they quickened their pace, for they knew that earth's dearest
-shelter, how humble soever it might be, was just before.
-
-And as they came closer, Harvey could see, the white frock showing clear
-against the shadows, the outline of his sister's form. Poor child, the
-day had been long for her, waiting and wondering, the portent of the
-tidings that the night might bring mingling with all her childish
-thoughts. She was moving out from the door-step now, peering eagerly,
-starting forward or restraining herself again as doubt and certainty of
-the approaching pair impelled her. Suddenly she seemed to be quite sure,
-and with a little cry she bounded along the street, the eager footfalls
-pattering with the rapidity of love.
-
-The mother knew that music well; her hand slipped out of Harvey's grasp,
-the hungry arms outstretched as she felt the ardent form
-approaching--and in a moment, tears and laughter blending, the girlish
-arms were tight about the mother's neck and warm kisses were healing the
-wound within. Presently Jessie withdrew her face from the heaving
-bosom, her eyes turned wistfully upon her mother's, plaintively
-searching for the cure her childlike hope had expected to find obvious
-at a glance. Disappointment and pain spoke from her eyes--she could see
-no difference--and she turned almost reproachfully upon her brother.
-
-"What did he--what----?" she began; but something on Harvey's face fell
-like a forbidding finger on her lips and her question died in silence.
-
-"I brought you something pretty from the city, Jessie," the mother broke
-in. She knew what had checked the words. "It's in the satchel,
-dear--and we'll open it as soon as we get home."
-
-"What's in that other bundle?" asked the child.
-
-"It's Harvey's winter coat," replied the mother.
-
-"I'm so glad," Jessie said simply. "And oh, I've got good news too,"
-she went on enthusiastically. "I sold three pairs of those knitted
-stockings--all myself; and the man wouldn't take any change--I only
-asked him once. It was thirty-one cents--and the money's in the cup,"
-she concluded eagerly as they passed within the little door, the bell
-above clanging their welcome home.
-
-The valise was duly opened and Jessie's present produced amid great
-elation. Only a simple blue sash, selected by her brother with grave
-deliberation from the assortment on a bargain counter that lay like
-victims on an altar; but Jessie's joy was beautiful to behold, aided and
-abetted in it as she was by the other two, both mother and son trying on
-the flashing girdle, only to declare that it became Jessie best of all.
-
-Suddenly the girl exclaimed: "Oh, Harvey, the chickens missed you so.
-I'm sure they did--Snappy wouldn't take any supper. They're in bed, of
-course, but I don't think they're sleeping--let's just go out and see
-them. Come."
-
-Harvey was willing enough, and the two sallied out together. But Jessie
-held her hand tight on the door, drowsy chucklings within all unheeded,
-as she turned her white face upon her brother.
-
-"Now," she said imperiously, the voice low and strained, "tell me--tell
-me quick, Harvey."
-
-"I thought you wanted me to see the chickens," he evaded.
-
-"I hate the chickens--and that was a lie about Snappy's supper. I just
-wanted to ask you about mother. Tell me quick, Harvey."
-
-Harvey stammered something; but he needed to say no more--the girl sank
-sobbing at his feet.
-
-"I knew it," she cried. "I just knew it--oh, mother, mother! And
-she'll soon never see again, and it'll always be night all the time--an'
-she'll never look at you or me any more, Harvey, she'll never look at
-you or me again. An' I got a little photograph took to-day, a little
-tintype--just five cents--an' I thought she'd be able to see it when she
-came back. Oh, Harvey, Harvey," and the unhappy child, long years a
-struggler with poverty and cloud, poured forth, almost as with a woman's
-voice, the first strain of anguish her little heart had ever known.
-
-Harvey sank beside her, his arm holding her close. The twilight was now
-deepening into dark, a fitting mantel for these two enshadowed hearts.
-The still form of the bending brother, already giving promise of
-manhood's strength, seemed, even in outward aspect, to speak of inner
-compassion as he bended over the slender and weaker frame of his little
-sister. Strong and fearless and true he was; and if any eye had been
-keen enough to penetrate that encircling gloom and catch a vision of all
-that lay behind the humble scene, the knightly soul of the struggling
-boy would have stood forth like a sheltering oak--so powerless,
-nevertheless, to shield the clinging life beside him, overswept as it
-was by the winds and waves of sorrow. But the purpose and the heart
-were there--the fatherless spreading gentle wings above the
-fatherless--and the scene was a holy one, typical of all humanity at its
-highest, and faintly faltering the story of the Cross. For if human
-tenderness and pity are not lights, broken though they be, of the great
-Heart Divine, then all life's noblest voices are but mockery and lies.
-
-"Don't, Jessie, please don't," he murmured, his own tears flowing fast.
-"It'll only keep her from getting better--she'll see your eyes all red
-an'----"
-
-"She won't--she can't," sobbed the girl; "you know she can't--she can't
-see, Harvey," a fresh tide outbreaking at the thought.
-
-"But she'll feel it, Jessie. Mothers can feel everything like
-that--'specially everybody's own mother," he urged, vainly trying to
-control his own grief. "And anyhow, the doctor said she might get better
-some time--perhaps all of a sudden. And we've got to help her, Jessie;
-and we've got to make her happy too--and we can--mother said we could,"
-he cried, his tone growing firmer as the great life-work loomed before
-him.
-
-Hope is the most contagious of all forms of health; and with wonderful
-gentleness and power the youthful comforter drew the sobbing heart
-beside him into the shelter of his own tender courage, the hiding-place
-of his own loving purpose. Soon Jessie was staring, wide-eyed, at her
-brother, as he unfolded the new duties they must perform together. That
-word itself was never used, but her heart answered, as all true hearts
-must ever answer, to the appeal of God.
-
-"I'll try, Harvey," she said at last. "I'll do the best I can to help
-mother to get well--an' I'll get up in the mornings an' make the
-porridge myself," she avowed, smiling, the first step showing clear.
-
-Hand in hand they went back to the house, the light of eager purpose
-upon both their faces. As they entered, a familiar voice fell on
-Harvey's ear.
-
-"We was jest a-goin' by,"--it was David Borland's staccato--"an' I
-thought I'd drop in an' see if you was all safe home. Don't take off
-your things, Madeline; we're not a-visitin'," he said to the girl beside
-him. For she was bidding fair to settle for a protracted stay.
-
-"Yes, we're safe home, thank you," answered Mrs. Simmons, "and it's
-lovely to get back. I'm a poor traveller."
-
-"'Tain't safe to travel much these days," rejoined Mr. Borland after he
-had greeted Harvey; whose face, as well as a fugitive word or two,
-hushed any queries that were on David's lips--"so many accidents, I
-always feel skeery on the trains--must be hard to run Divine
-predestination on schedule, since they got them heavy engines on the
-light rails. I often think the undertakers is part of the railroad
-trust," he concluded, smiling sententiously into all the faces at once.
-
-Some further conversation ensued, prompted in a general way by the
-excursion to the city, and dealing finally with the question of eminent
-city doctors and their merits.
-
-"I only went onct to a big city man like that," David said
-reminiscently, "and it was about my eyes, too. You see, I rammed my
-shaving-brush into one, one evenin' when I was shavin' in the dusk.
-Well, I was awful skeery about what he'd charge--didn't have much of the
-almighty needful in them days. An' I heard he charged the
-Governor-General's missus five thousand dollars, a week or two before,
-for takin' a speck o' dust out of her eye--castin' out the mote, as the
-Scriptur says; I'd leave a sand-pit stay there before I'd shell out like
-that. Well, anyhow, I was skeered, 'cause I knew me an' the nobility
-had the same kind of eyes. So I didn't dress very good--wore some old
-togs. An' after he got through--just about four minutes an' a half--I
-asked him what was the damage. Says he: 'What do you do, Mr. Borland?'
-'I work in a foundry,' says I. 'Oh, well,' says he, 'call it five
-dollars.' So I yanked out a roll o' bills about the size of a hind
-quarter o' beef, an' I burrows till I gets a five--then I gives it to
-him. 'How do you come to have a wad like that, Mr. Borland,' says he,
-'if you work in a foundry?' 'I own the foundry,' says I, restorin' the
-wad to where most Scotchmen carries their flask. 'Oh!' says he, lookin'
-hard at the little fiver. 'Oh, I'll give you another toadskin,' says I,
-'jest to show there's no hard feelin'.' 'Keep it,' says he--an' he was
-laughin' like a guinea hen, 'keep it, an' buy a marble monument for
-yourself, and put at the bottom of it what a smart man you was,'" and
-David slapped his knee afresh in gleeful triumph. For the others, too,
-there was laughter and to spare; which very purpose David had designed
-his autobiography to accomplish. A moment later Madeline and her father
-were at the door, the little circle, laughing still, around him as they
-stepped without.
-
-"You're a terrible one for shakin' hands, girl," David said to his
-daughter as they stood a moment on the step. "That's a habit I never
-got much into me." For Madeline's farewell had had much of meaning in
-it, the sweet face suffused with sympathy as she shook hands with
-all--the mother first, then Jessie, then Harvey--and the low voice had
-dropped a word or two that told the depth and sincerity of her feeling.
-When she said good-bye to Harvey, the pressure of her hand, light and
-fluttering as it was, found a response so warm and clinging that a quick
-flush overflowed her face, before which the other's fell, so striking
-was its beauty, so full of deep significance the message of the strong
-and soulful eyes. Her father's child was she, and the fascination of
-sorrow had early touched her heart.
-
-The door was almost closed when David turned to call back lustily:
-
-"Oh, Harvey--Harvey, Mr. Nickle wants to see you; Geordie Nickle, you
-know; an' if you come round to my office to-morrow about half-past four,
-I think you'll find him there. He's got a great scheme on; he's the
-whitest man I ever run acrost, I think--for a Scotchman."
-
-
-
-
- *XIV*
-
- _*THE WEIGHING OF THE ANCHOR*_
-
-
-Surely the years love best to ply their industry among the young. For
-two or three of them, each taking up the work where its predecessor laid
-it down, can transform a youth or maiden to an extent that is really
-wonderful. Perhaps this is because the young lend themselves so
-cheerfully to everything that makes for change, and resent all tarrying
-on life's alluring way. They love to make swift calls at life's chief
-ports, so few in number though they be; they are impatient to try the
-open sea beyond, unrecking that the last harbour and the long, long
-anchorage are all too near at hand.
-
-The difference that these silent craftsmen can soon make upon a face
-might have been easily visible to any observant eye, had such an eye
-been cast one evening upon the still unbroken circle of the Simmons
-home. The mother had changed but little; nor had anything changed to
-her--unless it were that all upon which her eyes had closed shone
-brighter in the light that memory imparts. Still holding her secret
-hidden deep, her fondness for those left to her seemed but to deepen as
-the hope of her husband's return grew more and more faint within. If the
-hidden tragedy delved an ever deeper wound under cover of her silence,
-it had no outward token but an intenser love towards those from whom she
-had so long concealed it.
-
-But Jessie and Harvey had turned the time to good account. For the
-former had almost left behind the stage of early childhood, merging now
-into the roundness and plumpness--and consciousness, too--that betoken a
-girl's approach to the sunlit hills of womanhood.
-
-Yet Harvey had changed the most of all. The stalwart form had taken to
-itself the proportions of opening manhood--height, firmness, breadth of
-shoulders, length of limb, all made a strong and comely frame. The
-poise of the head indicated resolute activity, and the evening light
-that now played upon his face revealed a countenance in which sincerity,
-seriousness, hopefulness, might be traced by a practiced eye. Humour,
-too, was there--that twin sister unto seriousness--maintaining its own
-place in the large eyes that had room for other things beside; and the
-glance that was sometimes turned upon the autumn scene without, but
-oftener upon his mother and his sister, was eloquent of much that lay
-behind. The tuition of his soul had left its mark upon his face. Early
-begun and relentlessly continued, it had taught him much of life, of
-life's ways and life's severities--not a little, too, of the tactics she
-demands from all who would prevail in the stern battle for which he had
-been compelled so early to enlist. New duties, unusual
-responsibilities, severe mental exercise such as serious study gives,
-stern self-denial, constant thought of others, these had conspired to
-provide the manly seriousness upon the still almost boyish face.
-
-Autumn reigned without, as has been already said, and in robes of gold.
-Glowing and glorious, the oak and the elm and the maple wrapt in bridal
-garments, glad nature went onward to her death, mute preceptress to
-pagan Christians as to how they too should die.
-
-A graver autumn reigned within. For the little circle was to be broken
-on the morrow, and the humble home was passing through one of earth's
-truest crises, giving up an inmate to the storm and peril of the great
-world without. The world itself may smile, stretching forth indifferent
-hands to receive the outgoing life; what cares the ocean for another
-swimmer as he joins the struggling throng?--but was the surrender ever
-made without tumult and secret tears?
-
-"Look, look," Jessie cried, as she turned her face a moment from the
-pane; "there goes Cecil and Madeline--I guess he's taking her for a
-farewell drive."
-
-In spite of himself, Harvey joined his sister at the window.
-
-"Is Madeline with him?" he said, throwing quite an unusual note of
-carelessness into the words.
-
-"Yes, that's the second time they've driven past here--at least, I'm
-almost sure it was them before," Jessie averred, straining her neck a
-little to follow the disappearing carriage.
-
-"I wonder what he'll do with his horse when he's away," Harvey pursued,
-bent on an irrelevant theme, and thankful that the light was dim. The
-inward riot that disturbed him would have been much allayed could he
-have known that the parade before their door was of Madeline's own
-contriving; presuming, that is, that he understood the combination of
-the woman-heart.
-
-"Doesn't it seem strange, Harvey, that you and Cecil should start for
-the University the very same day?--he's going on the same train in the
-morning, isn't he?" enquired Jessie, her eyes abandoning their pursuit.
-
-"I think so," her brother answered carelessly. "Jessie," he digressed
-decisively, "I want you to promise me something. I'm going to write you
-a letter every week, and I want you to take and read it--or nearly all
-of it; sometimes there'll be bits you can't--to Mr. Nickle. If it
-weren't for him--for him and Mr. Borland--I wouldn't be going to college
-at all, as you know."
-
-"That I will," the sister answered heartily; "I think he's just the
-dearest old man. And I can manage it easily enough--there's hardly a
-day but he comes into the store to buy something. He and Mr. Borland
-always seem to be wanting something, something that we've always got,
-too. They must eat an awful lot of sweet stuff between them. And every
-time Mr. Nickle comes in, he says: 'Weel, hoo's the scholarship laddie
-the day?'--he's awfully proud about you getting the scholarship,
-Harvey."
-
-Her brother's face brightened. "Well there's one thing I'm mighty glad
-of," he said, "and that is that I won't be very much of a charge for my
-first year at any rate--that hundred and fifty will help to see me
-through."
-
-"But you mustn't stint yourself, Harvey," the mother broke in with
-tender tone. "You must get a nice comfortable place to board in, and
-have a good warm bed--and lots of good nourishing things to eat. I know
-I'll often be waking up in the night and wondering if you're cold. Do
-you know, dear," she went on, her voice trembling a little, "we've never
-been a night separated since you were born--it's going to be hard for a
-while, I'm afraid," she said a little brokenly as the youth nestled down
-beside her, his head resting on her lap as in the old childhood days.
-
-"It'll be harder for me, mother," he said; "but I think I'd be almost
-happy if you were well again. It nearly breaks my heart to think of
-leaving you here in--in the dark," he concluded, his arm stealing fondly
-about her neck.
-
-The woman bended low to his caress. "Don't, Harvey--you mustn't. It's
-not the dark--it's never dark where Christ abides," she broke out with a
-fervour that almost startled him, for it was but rarely that she spoke
-like this. "I've got so much to thank God for, my son--it's always
-light where love makes it light. And I'm so proud and happy that you're
-going to get the chance you need, Harvey. Oh, but He's been good to my
-little ones," she cried, her voice thrilling with the note of real
-gratitude that is heard, strangely enough, only from those who sit among
-the shadows. The noblest notes of praise have come from lips of pain.
-
-"You'll write to me, won't you, mother?--you'll tell Jessie what to say,
-and it'll be almost like getting it from yourself."
-
-"Oh, yes," she answered quickly, "and I'll always be able to sign my
-name. And if you're ever in trouble, Harvey--or if you're ever
-tempted--and that's sure to come in a great city like the one you're
-going to--remember your mother's praying for you. I'm laid aside, I
-know, my son, and there's not much now that I can do; but there's one
-thing left to me--I have the throne of grace; and if any one knows its
-comfort, surely it's your mother."
-
-"Mother, won't you tell me something?" he interrupted decisively.
-
-"What is it, my son?"
-
-"Isn't there something else, mother--some other sorrow, I mean--that I
-don't know about? I've had a feeling for a long time that there
-was--was something else."
-
-The mother was long in answering. But she raised her hand and drew his
-arm tighter about her neck, the protecting love very sweet. "There's
-nothing but what I get grace to bear--don't ask me more, my child," and
-as she spoke the bending boy felt the hot tears begin to fall. They
-soon came thick and fast, for the mother's heart was melting within her,
-and as he felt the sacred drops upon his head the son's soul rose up in
-purpose and devotion, making its solemn vow that he would be worthy of a
-love so great.
-
-The evening wore away, every hour precious to them all. Very simple and
-homely were the counsels that fell from the mother's lips; that he must
-be careful about making new acquaintances, especially such as would hail
-him on the street, and speak his name, and cite his friends in
-witness--they doubtless all knew about the scholarship money; that he
-must study with his light behind him--not in front--and never later than
-half-past ten; that a couple of pairs of stockings, at the very least,
-must always be on hand in case of wet feet and resultant colds; that if
-cold in bed, he must ask for extra covering--he simply must not be
-afraid to ask for what he wants; that he must be very careful on those
-crowded city streets, especially of the electric cars; that in case of
-illness he must telegraph immediately, regardless of expense; that he
-must not forsake the Bible-class on Sabbath afternoons, but find one
-there and enroll himself at once; that he must accept gladly if fine
-people asked him to their homes, caring nothing though other students
-may be better dressed than he--they didn't get the scholarship, anyhow.
-
-And Harvey promised all. More than likely that he took the admonitions
-lightly; he was not so much concerned with them as with the conflicting
-emotions that possessed him, eager joy that the battle was about to
-begin in earnest and yearning sympathy for the devoted hearts he was to
-leave behind. If all to which he was going forth loomed before him as a
-battle, it was as a delicious battle, whose process should be perpetual
-pleasure, its issue decisive victory. No thought of its real peril, its
-subtle conflict, its despairing hours, marred the prospect of the
-beckoning years; he knew not how he would yet revise his estimates as to
-who are our real enemies, nor did he dream that his fiercest foes would
-be found within--and that the battle of inward living is, after all has
-been said and done, the battle of life itself.
-
-"And now, my children," the mother said at last when the evening was far
-spent, "we'd better go to our rest, for we'll need to be up early in the
-morning. But I want to have a little prayer with you before we
-part--we'll just kneel here;" and she sank beside her chair, an arm
-about either child. It was quite dark, for none seemed to wish a
-light--they knew it could add nothing to the mother's vision--and in
-simple, earnest words, sometimes choking with the emotion she could not
-control, she committed her treasures to her God. "Oh, keep his youthful
-feet, our Father," the trustful voice implored, "and never let them
-wander from the path; help him in his studies and strengthen him in his
-soul--and keep us here at home in Thy blessed care, and let us all meet
-again. For Jesus' sake."
-
-The light--that light that they enjoy who need no candle's glow--was
-about them as they arose, the mother's hand in Jessie's as they turned
-away. Harvey sought the shelter of the room that was so soon to be his
-no more. He closed the door as he entered, falling on his knees beside
-the bed to echo his mother's prayer. Then he hurriedly undressed and
-was soon fast asleep.
-
-It was hours after, the silent night hurrying towards the dawn, when he
-suddenly awoke, somewhat startled. For he felt a hand upon his brow,
-and the clothes were tight about him. Looking up, he dimly discerned
-his mother's face; white-robed, she was bending over him.
-
-"Don't be frightened, Harvey; go to sleep, dear--it's only me. I wanted
-to tuck you in once more, like I used to do when you were little. Oh,
-Harvey," and a half cry escaped her as she bent down and put her arms
-about him, "I don't know how to give you up--but go to sleep, dear, go
-to sleep."
-
-But Harvey was now wide awake, clinging to his mother. "Don't go," he
-said, "stay with me a little."
-
-There was a long silence. At last Harvey spoke:
-
-"What are you thinking about, mother?"
-
-The woman drew her shawl tighter about her shoulders and settled herself
-on the bed. "I think I'll tell you, Harvey," she said in a whisper; "it
-seems easier to tell you in the dark--and when Jessie's asleep."
-
-"What is it?" he asked eagerly. "Is it anything that's hard to say?"
-
-"Yes, my son, it's hard to tell--but I think I ought to tell it. Are
-you wide awake, Harvey?"
-
-"Yes, mother. What is it?" he asked again.
-
-"Do you remember, Harvey, the night you went to join the church?--and
-how I walked with you as far as the door?--and we went into the cemetery
-together? Don't you remember, Harvey?"
-
-"Yes, mother, of course I do. But why?"
-
-"Can you remember how, when we were standing at the baby's grave, you
-asked me why your father never joined the church, and I said he didn't
-think he was good enough--and you asked me why, and I said I'd tell you
-some time. Do you remember that, my son?"
-
-"Yes," Harvey answered slowly, his mind working fast.
-
-"Well, I'm going to tell you now. Your father was so good to me,
-Harvey--at least, nearly always. But he used"--she buried her face in
-the pillow--"this is what I'm going to tell you, Harvey; he used--he
-used to drink sometimes."
-
-The form beside her lay still as death. "Sometimes he used to--we were
-so happy, till that began. And oh, Harvey, nobody can ever know what a
-dreadful struggle it is, till they've seen it as I saw it. For he loved
-you, my son, he loved you and Jessie like his own soul--and it was the
-company he got into--and some discouragements--and things like that,
-that were to blame for it. But the struggle was terrible, Harvey--like
-fighting with one of those dreadful snakes that winds itself about you.
-And I could do so little to help him."
-
-She could feel his breath coming fast, his lips almost against her
-cheek. A little tremor preceded his question. "Was he--was father all
-right when he died?"
-
-It was well he could not see the tell-tale lips, nor catch the quiver
-that wrung the suffering face. "Oh, Harvey," she began tremblingly, "I
-asked you never to speak of that--it hurts me so. And I wanted to tell
-you," she hurried evasively on, "that his own father had the same
-failing before him. And I'm so frightened, Harvey, so frightened--about
-you--you know it often descends from father to son. And when I think of
-you all alone in the big city--oh, Harvey, I want you to----" and the
-rest was smothered in sobs as the sorrow-riven bosom rose and fell, the
-tears streaming from the sightless eyes.
-
-Both of Harvey's arms were tight about his mother, his broken voice
-whispering his vow with passionate affection.
-
-"Never, mother, never; I promise," he murmured. "Oh, my mother, you've
-had so much of sorrow--if you want me, I won't go away at all. I'll
-stay and take care of you and Jessie, if you want me, mother," the
-strong arms clinging tighter. But she hushed the suggestion with a
-word, gently withdrawing herself and kissing him good-night again.
-
-"Go to sleep, my son," she said gently; "you've got a long journey
-before you," and he knew the significance of the words; "God has given
-me far more of joy than sorrow," as she felt her way to the door and
-onwards to her room.
-
-Long he lay awake, engulfed in a very tumult of thoughts and memories;
-finally he fell into a restless slumber. The day was dimly breaking
-when he suddenly awoke, thinking he heard a noise. Stealing from his
-bed, he crept across the room, peering towards his mother's. He could
-see her in the uncertain light; she was bending over his trunk, the
-object of her solicitude for many a previous day, and her hands were
-evidently groping for something within. Soon they reappeared, and he
-could see a Bible in them, new and beautiful. She had a pen in one
-hand, and for a moment she felt about the adjoining table for the
-ink-well she knew was there. Finding it, the poor ill-guided pen sought
-the fly-leaf of the book she held; it took long, but it was love's
-labour and was done with care. She waited till the ink was dry, then
-closed the volume, kissed it with longing tenderness and replaced it in
-the trunk. Rising, she made her way to a chest of drawers, opened one or
-two before her hands fell on what she wanted, and then produced a little
-box carefully wrapped in oilcloth. Some little word she scrawled upon
-it, and the unpretentious parcel--only some simple luxury that a
-mother's love had provided against sterner days--was deposited at the
-very bottom of the trunk. She closed the lid and kneeled reverently
-beside the now waiting token of departure; Harvey crept back to his bed
-again, his sight well-nigh as dim as hers. When the little family
-gathered the next morning at the breakfast-table the mother's face bore
-a look of deep content, as if some burden had been taken from her mind.
-And the valiant display of cheerfulness on the part of all three was
-quite successful, each marvelling at the sprightliness of the other two.
-They were just in the middle of the meal when the tinkling bell called
-Jessie to the shop. A moment later she returned, bearing a resplendent
-cluster of roses. "They're for you, Harvey," she said, "and I think
-it's a great shame--boys never care anything for flowers. They ought to
-be for me." But she did not hand them to her brother, nor did he seem
-to expect them. For she walked straight to the mother's chair, holding
-them before her; and the patient face sank among them, drinking deep of
-their rich fragrance.
-
-"Who sent them, Jessie?" her brother asked with vigorous brevity.
-
-"I don't know--the boy wouldn't tell. He said 'a party' gave him ten
-cents to hand them in--and the party didn't want the name given. I hate
-that 'party' business; you can't tell whether it's a man or a woman. I
-guess it wasn't a man, though--look at the ribbon."
-
-One would have said that Harvey thought so too, judging by the light on
-his face. "I'll take the ribbon," he said, "and just one rose--you and
-mother can have the rest."
-
-"Then you're sure it wasn't a man sent them?" returned the knowing
-Jessie.
-
-"No, I'm not--what makes you say that?"
-
-"Well--what are you taking the ribbon for, if you're not?"
-
-"Because--because, well, because it's useful, for one thing; I can tie
-my lunch up in it, or a book or two--anything like that," Harvey
-replied, smiling at his adroit defense. "Who's this--why, if it's not
-Mr. Nickle and Mr. Borland!" rising as he spoke to greet the most
-welcome guests.
-
-"Ye'll hae to pardon us, Mrs. Simmons," Geordie's cheery voice was the
-first to say; "David here brocht me richt through the shop, richt ben
-the hoose, wi'oot rappin'. We wantit to say good-bye till the
-laddie--only he's mair a man nor a laddie noo."
-
-"It was Mr. Nickle that dragged me in by the scuff o' the neck,"
-interjected Mr. Borland, nodding to all the company at once. "When he
-smelt the porridge, you couldn't see him for dust. Hello! where'd you
-get the roses?--look awful like the vintage out at our place. Don't
-rise, Mrs. Simmons; we just dropped in to tell Harvey tra-la-la."
-
-"I'm glad to find ye're at the porridge, laddie," Geordie said genially,
-as he took the chair Jessie had handed him. "The porridge laddies aye
-leads their class at the college, they tell me--dinna let them gie ye
-ony o' yon ither trash they're fixin' up these days to dae instead o'
-porridge; there's naethin' like the guid auld oatmeal."
-
-"You Scotch folks give me a pain," broke in David; "how any one can eat
-the stuff, I can't make out. The fact is, I don't believe Scotchmen
-like it themselves--only it's cheap, an' it fills up the hired men so
-they can't eat anythin' else. Unless it's because their ancestors ate
-it," he continued thoughtfully. "I'll bet my boots there's Scotchmen in
-Glenallen that's eatin' porridge to-day jest because their grandfathers
-ate it; an' they'll put it down if it kills 'em--an' their kids'll eat
-it too or else they'll know the reason why. It'd be just the same if it
-was bran--they'd have to walk the plank. But there ain't no horse blood
-in me, thank goodness," he concluded fervently.
-
-"Jealousy's an awfu' sair disease," retorted Geordie, smiling pitifully
-at the alien; "but we canna a' be Scotch."
-
-"I'm so glad you came in," Harvey began, turning to his visitors as the
-laughter subsided; "we were just speaking of your kindness last
-night--and I'm glad to have a chance to thank you again just before I go
-away."
-
-"Stap it," Geordie interrupted sternly. "That's plenty o' that kind o'
-thing--I'll gang oot if there's ony mair, mind ye," he declared
-vehemently, for there are few forms of pain more intolerable to natures
-such as his.
-
-"You'll have to be careful, Harvey," cautioned Mr. Borland; "he's one o'
-the kind that don't want their left hand to know the stunt their right
-hand's doin'. Very few Scotchmen likes the left hand to get next to
-what the right one's at--it wouldn't know much, poor thing, in the most
-o' cases," he added pitifully--"but our friend here's a rare kind of a
-Scotchman. By George, them's terrible fine roses," he digressed, taking
-a whiff of equine proportions.
-
-"I canna gang till the station wi' ye, Harvey--David's gaein'," said
-Geordie Nickle, taking his staff and rising to his feet, "but guid-bye,
-my laddie, an' the blessin' o' yir mither's God be wi' ye," and the
-kindly hand was unconsciously laid on Harvey's head. "We're expectin'
-graun' things o' ye at the college. I mind fine the mornin' I left my
-faither's hoose in Hawick; he aye lifted the tune himsel' at family
-worship--an' that mornin', I mind the way his voice was quaverin'.
-These was the words:
-
- 'Oh, spread Thy coverin' wings around
- Till all our wanderin's cease,'
-
-an' I dinna ken onythin' better for yirsel' the day. Guid-bye, my
-laddie--an' 'a stoot heart tae a steep brae', ye ken."
-
-As Harvey returned from seeing the old man to the door, Jessie beckoned
-him aside into his room, not yet set to rights after his fitful slumbers
-of the night before.
-
-"Harvey," she began in very serious tones, "I only want to say a word;
-it's to give a promise--and to get one. And I want you to promise me
-faithfully, Harvey."
-
-"What is it, sister?" he asked, his gaze resting fondly on the girlish
-face.
-
-"Well, it's just this. You see this room?" Harvey nodded. "And this
-bed?--you know I'm going to have your room after you're gone. Well,
-it's about mother--I'm going to pray for her here every night; right
-here," touching the side of the bed as she spoke. "Dr. Fletcher said it
-would be sure to help--I mean for her sight to come back again; I asked
-him once at Sunday-school."
-
-"The doctor in the city told me that, too," broke in her brother.
-
-"Dr. Fletcher knows better'n him," the other declared firmly--"he said
-God made lots o' people see because other people prayed. An' I want you
-to always ask the same thing--at the same time, Harvey, at the very same
-time; an' when I'm asking here, I'll know you're doing the very same
-wherever you are. You'll promise me, won't you, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey's heart was full; and the unsteadiness that marked his words was
-not from any lack of sympathy and purpose. "What time, Jessie?" he
-asked in a moment. "Would eight o'clock be a good time?"
-
-"I don't think so," the girl said after pondering a moment. "You see,
-I'll often be in bed at eight--I'm going to work very hard, you know. I
-think half-past seven would be better."
-
-Thus was the solemn tryst arranged, and Harvey bade his sister good-bye
-before he passed without for the last farewell to his mother.
-
-No tears, no outward sign, marked the emotion of the soulful moment, and
-soon Harvey and Mr. Borland had started for the station. Once, and only
-once, did the youth look behind; and he saw his mother's tender face,
-unseeing, but still turned in wistful yearning towards her departing
-son. Jessie was clinging to her skirts, her face hidden--but the
-mother's was bright in its strength and hopefulness, and the image sank
-into his heart, never to be effaced.
-
-It was evident, from the long silence he preserved, that David was
-reflecting upon things in general. Harvey was coming to understand him
-pretty well, and knew that the product would be forthcoming shortly.
-Nor was he disappointed.
-
-"They're great on givin' advice, ain't they?"
-
-"Who?" enquired Harvey, smiling in advance.
-
-"Them Scotch folks--they'd like awful well to be omnipotent, wouldn't
-they? It's pretty nigh the only thing they think they lack. It's great
-fun to hear a Scotchman layin' down the law; they don't see no use in
-havin' ten commandments unless they're kept--by other people."
-
-"You're not referring to Mr. Nickle, are you?" ventured Harvey.
-
-"Oh, no! bless my soul. Geordie's all wool and sixteen ounces to the
-pound," responded Mr. Borland, prodigal of his metaphors. "That's what
-set me thinkin' of Scotchmen in general, 'cause they're so different
-from Geordie. That was an elegant programme he fired at you there;
-what's this it was, again?--oh, yes, 'when it's stiff climbin', keep
-your powder dry'--somethin' like that, wasn't it?"
-
-"He gave it the Scotch," answered Harvey, "'a stoot heart tae a steep
-brae,' I think it was."
-
-"That's what I said," affirmed David, "an' it's a bully motto. It's
-mine," he avowed, turning and looking gravely at Harvey. "I heard a
-fellow advertisin' a nigger show onct; he was on top of the tavern
-sheds, with a megaphone. 'If you can't laugh, don't come,' he was
-bellerin'--an' I thought it was elegant advice. Kind o' stuck to me all
-these years. You take it yourself, boy, an' act on it--you'll have lots
-of hard ploughin' afore you're through."
-
-"It suits me all right," Harvey responded cheerfully; "they say
-laughter's good medicine."
-
-"The very best--every one should have a hogshead a day; it washes out
-your insides, you see. If a man can't laugh loud, he ain't a good man,
-I say. I was talkin' about that to Robert McCaig the other day--you
-know him, he's the elder--terrible nice man he was, too, till he got
-religion--an' then he took an awful chill. By and by he got to be an
-elder--an' then he froze right to the bottom. Well, he's agin
-laughin'--says it's frivolous, you see. I told him the solemnest people
-was the frivolousest--used the rich fool for an illustration; he was
-terrible solemn, but he was a drivellin' _ejut_ inside, to my way o'
-thinkin'. Robert up an' told me we don't read of the Apostle Paul ever
-laughin'--thought he had me. What do you think I gave him back?"
-
-"Couldn't imagine," said Harvey, quite truthfully.
-
-"'That don't prove nothin',' says I; 'we don't ever read of him takin' a
-bath, or gettin' his hair cut,' says I, 'but it was him that said
-godliness was next to cleanliness.' An' Robert got mad about it--that's
-how I knew I had him beat. He said I was irreverent--but that ain't no
-argyment, is it?" appealed David seriously.
-
-His companion's opinion, doubtless favourable, was hindered of
-expression by the snort of the approaching locomotive, signal for a
-sprint that was rather vigorous for further exchange of views. There
-was barely time for the purchase of a ticket and the checking of the
-trunk, the conductor already standing with one eye on the baggage truck
-and the other on the grimy figure that protruded from the engine window.
-
-"I ain't Scotch," David said hurriedly, as he and Harvey stood together
-at the rear platform of the train, "but I had a father, for all that,
-just the same as all them Sandys seem to have. An' when I was pikin'
-out to find the trail--it's a long time ago--the old man stood just like
-I'm standin' here with you, an' he says to me: 'David,' he says, 'trust
-in God an' do your duty.' An' I believe them's the best runnin' orders
-on the road. The old Sandys can't beat that much, can they?"
-
-Harvey had no chance to make reply; for almost in the same breath David
-went on, thrusting an envelope into his hand as he spoke: "Here's a
-letter of interduction I want you to present to a fellow in the
-city--he's the teller in the Merchants' Bank, an' you might find him
-helpful," David concluded with a hemispheric grin; "hope you'll endorse
-my suggestion," he added, the grin becoming spherical.
-
-Harvey tried to protest as best he could, protest and gratitude
-mingling; but the train was already moving out and his communications
-were chiefly in tableau.
-
-"That's all right," David roared above the din; "good-bye, my boy.
-Remember Geordie Nickle's motto--an' don't blow out the gas."
-
-
-
-
- *XV*
-
- _*A PARENTAL PARLEY*_
-
-
-"Better eat all you can, Madeline; you can't never tell when you're
-goin' to have your last square meal these days," and David deposited
-another substantial helping on his daughter's plate.
-
-"Why, father, what's the matter? What's making you so despondent all of
-a sudden?" Madeline asked in semi-seriousness, following her father's
-advice the while.
-
-"You don't understand your father, Madeline--he's always joking, you
-know," interjected Mrs. Borland. "You shouldn't make light of such
-solemn matters, David," she went on, turning to her husband, "hunger's
-nothing to jest about."
-
-"Exactly what I was sayin'," responded David, "an' if things goes on
-like they promise now, you an' Madeline'll have to take in washin' to
-support this family--that's the gospel truth."
-
-"I don't believe father's in fun," Madeline persisted. "Anything go
-wrong to-day with business matters?" she enquired, looking across the
-table at her father.
-
-That David was in earnest was obvious enough. "Everything wrong,
-appearin'ly," he said, rolling up his napkin and returning it to its
-ring. "The men's goin' to strike--seems to me there's a strike every
-other alternate day," he went on. "Doin' business nowadays is like a
-bird tryin' to hatch out eggs when they're cuttin' down the tree--some
-o' them darned firebrands from St. Louis have been stirrin' up the men;
-a lot o' lazy man-eaters," he concluded vehemently.
-
-"What do the men want, David?" his wife asked innocently.
-
-Mr. Borland looked at her incredulously. "What do they want--the same
-old thing they've been wantin' ever since Adam went into the fruit
-business--less work an' more pay. An' they've appointed a couple o'
-fellows--a delegation they call it--to wait on the manufacturers
-privately an' present their claims. There's two different fellows to
-interview each man--an' they're comin' here to-night. They didn't tell
-me they was comin'--I jest heard it casual."
-
-"To-night!" echoed Mrs. Borland, "where'll they sit?"
-
-"Chairs, I reckon," replied her spouse.
-
-"You're so facetious, David. Where'll they sit when they're talking to
-you?--you know what I mean."
-
-"Oh, I reckon we'll have it out in the den--there'll be lots o'
-growlin', anyhow. I'm not worryin' much about where they sit; it's the
-stand they take that troubles me the most," and David indulged a
-well-earned smile.
-
-"You're very gay about it, father," Madeline chimed in, "making merry
-with the English language."
-
-"There's no use o' bein' gay when everything all right, daughter; that's
-like turnin' on the light when it's twelve o'clock noon. But when
-things is breakin' up on you, then's your time to cut up dog a little.
-I'm a terrible believer in sunshine, Madeline--the home-made kind, in
-particular. I always tell the croakers that every man should have a
-sunshine plant inside of him--when the outside kind gives out, why, let
-him start his little mill inside, an' then he's independent as a pig on
-ice. An' really, it's kind o' natural--there's nothin' so refreshin' as
-difficulties, in a certain sense. Leastways, that's the kind of an
-animal I am--when I'm on the turf, give me a hurdle now an' again to
-make it interestin'."
-
-"Is this a pretty stiff business hurdle you've got to get over now?"
-asked Madeline, as she smiled admiringly at the home-bred philosophy.
-
-"Well, it's stiff enough. Of course, I've done pretty good in the
-foundry--ain't in it for my health. But it's terrible uncertain; you
-know the Scriptur' says the first shall be last--an' it's often that way
-in business. We're really not makin' hardly any money these days; of
-course, if you tell the men that, they--they close one eye," said David,
-illustrating the process as he spoke. "Where are you off to, Madeline?"
-he asked abruptly, for his daughter had passed into the hall and was
-putting on her cloak.
-
-"I'm going for my lesson--I'm taking wood-carving, you know. Pretty
-soon I'll be able to do it myself; and then I'm going to make lots of
-pretty things and sell them. My class and I are going to support four
-India famine children," she said proudly.
-
-"Bully for you! You'll do the carvin', an' they'll do the eatin'--I
-suppose that's the idea."
-
-Madeline's merry laughter was still pealing as she closed the door
-behind her. Mrs. Borland turned a rather fretful face to her husband.
-
-"She's taken a class in Sunday-school," she said, lifting her eyebrows
-to convey some idea of her opinion on the subject. "I did my best to
-dissuade her, but it was no use."
-
-"What in thunder did you want to prevent her for?" asked David.
-
-"Oh, well, you understand. They're a very ordinary lot, I'm
-afraid--just the kind of children I've always tried to keep her away
-from. I never heard one of their names before."
-
-"I think she's a reg'lar brick to tackle them," returned her husband.
-"It does me good to see Madeline takin' that turn--nearly all the girls
-her age is jest about as much use as a sofa-tidy, with their teas an'
-five-o'clocks an' at-homes, an' all them other diseases," David
-continued scornfully. "It's all right to have girls learned----"
-
-"Taught, David," corrected his wife.
-
-"It's the same thing," retorted Mr. Borland. "I'm too old for you to
-learn me them new words, mother--it's all right, as I was sayin', to get
-them learned an' taught how to work in china, an' ivory, an' wood an'
-hay an' stubble, as the good book says, but it's far better to see them
-workin' a little in human bein's. It must be terrible interestin' to
-try your hand on an immortal soul--them kind o' productions lasts a
-while. So don't go an' cool her off, mother--you let her stick to them
-kids without names if she wants to."
-
-"But she tells me, David, she tells me some of them come to
-Sunday-school without washing their hands or faces."
-
-"Tell her to wear buckskin mits," said Mr. Borland gravely.
-
-"It's all very well to laugh, David--but they seem to have all sorts of
-things wrong with them. Madeline told me one day how she couldn't get
-the attention of the class because one of them kept winding and
-unwinding a rag on his sore finger for all the class to see it; he said
-a rat bit it in the night."
-
-"Rough on rats'd soon fix them," said David reflectively; "I mind out in
-the barn one time----"
-
-"But I'm serious, David," remonstrated Mrs. Borland; "and there's
-something else I hardly like to tell you. But only last Sunday Madeline
-was telling me--she laughed about it, but I didn't--how she asked one of
-the boys why he wasn't there the Sunday before, and he said: 'Please,
-ma'am, I had the shingles.'"
-
-"Shingles ain't catchin'," declared David, as he gasped for breath.
-"Ha, ha, ha!" he roared, "that's the richest I've heard since the nigger
-show. Ha, ha! that's a good one--that's the kind of a class I'd like to
-have. None o' your silk-sewed kids for me, with their white chiffon an'
-pink bows! It seems a sin for them teachers to have so much fun on
-Sundays, don't it?" and David extricated his shank from beneath the
-table, venting his mirth upon it with many a resounding slap.
-
-Mrs. Borland sighed discouragedly. "Well," she said at length, "I
-suppose there are greater troubles in life than that. In fact, I was
-just thinking of one of them when you were speaking about where you'd
-entertain the men when they come to-night."
-
-"I'm afeard what I'll say won't entertain them a terrible lot," said
-David, passing his cup for further stimulus as he thought of the ordeal.
-
-"Well, about where you'll talk to them, then," amended Mrs. Borland.
-"My trouble's something the same. Only it's about the servants; at
-least it's about Letitia--she's the new one. It seems she belongs to a
-kind of an Adventist church, and she told me this morning that the Rev.
-Mr. Gurkle, the minister, is coming up to call on her some afternoon
-this week. And she asked where would she receive him! Receive him, mind
-you, David--she's going to _receive_! And she asked me where--asked me
-where she'd receive him."
-
-"Well, that was natural enough. What did you tell her?" David asked,
-marvelling at the agitation of which the feminine mind is capable.
-
-"Why, I told her where else would she receive him except in the
-kitchen--you don't suppose my maids are going to entertain their company
-in the parlour, do you, David?"
-
-Mr. Borland turned his face reflectively towards the wall, gazing at the
-lurid painting of a three-year-old who had been the pride of last year's
-fair. Finally he spoke: "Yes, Martha, I reckon she will. I ain't much
-of an interfere!--but there ain't agoin' to to be no minister of the
-Gospel set down in the kitchen in this house. Black clothes is too easy
-stained. Besides, it ain't the way I was raised."
-
-"But, David, surely you don't----"
-
-"Yes, I do--that's jest exactly what I do. I know this Gurkle
-man--dropped into his church one night when some revival meetin's was
-goin' on. He's a little sawed-off fellow, with a wig--an' his cuffs has
-teeth like a bucksaw--an' he wears a white tie that looks like a horse's
-hames. An' he has an Adam's apple like a door-knocker; it kept goin'
-an' comin' that night, for there was a terrible lot of feelin' in the
-meetin'. An' Mr. Gurkle was a cryin' part of the time, an' he's that
-cross-eyed that the tears run over the bridge of his nose, both
-different ways. But I believe he's a good little man--an there ain't
-goin' to be no minister asquintin' round the kitchen in this house.
-He's goin' to the parlour, mother. The kitchen's all right for
-courtin'--come in there myself the other night when Mary had her steady
-company; there was three chairs--an' two of 'em was empty. That's all
-right for courtin'--it don't need no conveniences, nor no light, nor
-nothin'. Two young folks an' a little human natur's all you need for
-that. But prayin' an' sayin' catechism's hard enough at the best; so I
-reckon they'll have to do it in the parlour, mother," and Mr. Borland
-rose from his chair and moved slowly towards the window, patting his
-wife playfully on the shoulder as he passed.
-
-"By George, here they are," he suddenly exclaimed; "I believe that's
-them comin' now."
-
-"Who?" asked his consort, not with much zest of tone. She was still
-ruminating on her maid's religious advantages.
-
-"It's the delegation--it's them two fellows that's goin' to present the
-claims of the union. They're turnin' in at the carriage gate, sure's
-you're livin'."
-
-"I'm going up-stairs," announced Mrs. Borland. "I've got to fill out
-some invitations for an at-home next week--you don't mind my leaving,
-David?"
-
-"No, no, mother, certainly not. Far better for you not to be around.
-You see, certain kinds o' labour agitators is always complainin' that
-the manufacturers jest lives among beautiful things; an' you're the
-principal one in this house, mother; so I reckon you better slope," and
-David's hand was very gentle as it went out to touch the frosting locks.
-Mrs. Borland smiled indifferently at the compliment, secretly hugging it
-the while. Every true woman does likewise; the proffered pearl is
-carelessly glanced at and permitted to fall to the ground--then she
-swiftly covers it with one nimble foot, and solitary hours yet to come
-are enriched by communion with its radiance.
-
-
-
-
- *XVI*
-
- _*DAVID THE DIPLOMAT*_
-
-
-His wife was hardly half-way up the stairs before David was in the
-height of perfervid activity. "I'll have an at-home myself," he
-muttered under his breath; "I'll have a male at-home," as he rang the
-bell.
-
-"Yes, Mr. Borland," said the maid, parishioner to the Rev. Mr. Gurkle,
-as she appeared in answer.
-
-"Take all them dishes away," he instructed breathlessly; "all the eatin'
-stuff, I mean," waving his hand over the suggestive ruins. "Is there
-any salt herrin's in the house?"
-
-"Yes, sir, there's always herrin's on Friday; we keep 'em for
-Thomas--Thomas is a Roman," she said solemnly, an expression on her face
-that showed she was thinking of the judgment day.
-
-David grinned. "I'll bet the Pope couldn't tell one from a mutton chop
-to save his life," he said; "but anyhow, put three herrin's on the
-table--an' a handful o' soda crackers--an' some prunes," he directed
-quickly, "an' make some green tea--make it strong enough to float a
-man-o'-war. By George, there's the bell--when everything fixed, you
-come in to the sittin'-room an' tell me supper's ready--supper, mind,
-Letitia."
-
-Then he hurried through the hall to the door, flinging it wide open.
-
-"Why, if this ain't you, Mr. Hunter," he cried delightedly, "an' I'm
-blamed if this ain't Mr. Glady," giving a hand to each. "Come away in.
-Come on in to the sittin'-room--parlours always makes me think it's
-Sunday."
-
-The men followed in a kind of dream. Mr. Hunter's embarrassment took a
-delirious form, the poor man spending several minutes in a vain attempt
-to hang his hat on the antlers of a monster head about three feet beyond
-his utmost reach. Finally it fell into a bowl of goldfish that stood
-beneath the antlers; great was the agitation among the finny inmates,
-but it was nothing as compared to Mr. Hunter's.
-
-"That's all right," David sang out cheerily; "reckon they thought it was
-an eclipse o' the sun," he suggested. "Fling your lid on the floor--I
-hate style when you have visitors," whereupon Mr. Hunter, fearful of
-further accident, bended almost to his knees upon the floor and
-deposited the dripping article carefully beneath the sofa. Mr. Glady,
-more self-possessed, resorted to his pocket-handkerchief, his hat still
-safe upon his head. Hiding his face in the copious calico, he blew a
-blast so loud and clear, that the little fishes, mistaking it for
-Gabriel's trump, rose with cue accord to the surface--and David's
-favourite collie answered loudly from the kitchen. Compelled by a sense
-of propriety to reappear from the bandana, Mr. Glady began hurriedly to
-sit down and was about to sink upon the glass top of a case of
-many-coloured eggs, Madeline's especial pride, when David flew between.
-
-"Don't," he cried appealingly, "them's fowl's eggs--an' anyhow, this
-ain't the clockin' season," whereupon Mr. Glady leaped so far forward
-again that he collided with a small replica of the Venus de Milo on a
-mahogany stand, the goddess and the mahogany both oscillating a little
-with the impact.
-
-Mr. Glady stared at the delicate creation, then cast quick glances about
-the floor. "Did I break off those arms?" he asked excitedly, pale as
-death.
-
-"Oh bless you, no--she was winged when she was born," said David, trying
-to breathe naturally, and imploring the men to be seated, whereat they
-slowly descended into chairs, as storm-bruised vessels creep into their
-berths.
-
-When both were safely lodged a deep silence fell. David looked
-expectantly from one to the other and each of the visitors looked
-appealingly towards his mate. Finally Mr. Glady brought his lips apart
-with a smack: "We come--we come to see you, Mr. Borland, because you're
-an employer of labour and----"
-
-"By George, I'm glad to hear that," David chimed in gleefully; "that's
-elegant--there'd be less jawin' between labour an' capital if there was
-more visitin' back an' furrit like this. I can't tell you how tickled I
-am to see you both. I don't have many visitors," he went on rather
-mournfully, "that is, in a social way. A good many drops out to see me
-with subscription lists--but they never bring their knittin'," David
-added with a melancholy smile. "Most o' my evenin's is very lonely.
-I've seen me wearyin' so bad that I asked the missus to play on the
-pianner--an' one night I shaved three times, to pass the time."
-
-"Please, Mr. Borland, supper's on the table," said a small voice at the
-door.
-
-David leaped to his feet. "Come on, Mr. Hunter--come away, Mr. Glady,
-an' we'll get outside o' somethin'," taking an arm of each and turning
-towards the door.
-
-The men faintly protested, pleading a similar previous operation; but
-David overbore them with sweeping cordiality. "Let's go through the
-motions anyhow," he said. "I'm an awful delicate eater myself; the bite
-I eat, you could put in--in a hogshead," turning an amiable grin on his
-guests. "Here, you sit there, Mr. Hunter--an' I guess that's your
-stall, Mr. Glady; I'm sorry my missus can't come--she's workin'. An' my
-daughter's away somewhere workin' at wood--turnin' an honest penny.
-Will you ask a blessin', Mr. Hunter?"
-
-Mr. Hunter stared pitifully at his host. "Tom there'll ask it," he
-said, his lips very dry; "he used to go to singin'-school in the
-church."
-
-Mr. Glady's head was bowed waiting. "Mr. Hunter'll do it himself," he
-said, without moving a muscle; "his wife's mother's a class-leader in
-the Methodists."
-
-Whereupon the piously connected man, escape impossible now, began to
-emit a low subterranean rumble, like the initial utterances of a bottle
-full of water when it is turned upside down. But it was music to the
-ear of Mr. Glady, listening in rigid reverence.
-
-"What church do you go to, Mr. Glady?" David asked as he poured out a
-cup of tea, its vigour obvious. "Both sugar and cream, eh--Letitia,
-have we any sugar round the house?"
-
-"There's a barrel an' a half," the servant responded promptly.
-
-"Oh, yes, I see--fetch the half; we live awful plain, Mr. Glady. Don't
-go to no church, did you say? Terrible mistake--why don't you?"
-
-"Well," his guest responded slowly, "I look at it this way: if a fellow
-works all week--like us toilers does--he wants to rest on Sunday.
-That's our rest day."
-
-"Terrible mistake," repeated David; "two spoonfuls?--it's the workin'
-men that needs church the most. I was readin' in a book the other
-day--it was either the 'Home Physician' or the dictionary, I forget
-which--how the Almighty trains the larks in England to scoot up in the
-air an' sing right over the heads o' the toilers, as you call 'em--the
-fellows workin' in the fields. You see, the Almighty knows they're the
-kind o' people needs it most--an' they hear more of it than lords an'
-ladies does. An' it's them kind o' folks everywhere that needs
-entertainment the most; an' I don't think there's anythin' entertains
-you like a church, the way it gets at the muscles you don't use every
-day. If you go to sleep, that rests you; an' if you keep awake, it
-ventilates you--so you gain either way. Oh, yes, every one should go to
-some church," he concluded seriously.
-
-"That's all right for rich manufacturers," broke in Mr. Hunter; "it's
-easy to enjoy a sermon when you're thinkin' of the five-course dinner
-you'll get when it's over. But when you've nothin' afore your eyes only
-a dish of liver--an' mebbe scorched--a sermon don't go quite so good."
-
-"That's jest where I'm glad to have a chance to learn you somethin',"
-David returned with quite unwonted eagerness. It was evident he had
-struck a vein. "There ain't near so much difference as you fellows
-think. Do have some more prunes, Mr. Glady--they don't take up no room
-at all. As far as eatin' is concerned, anyway, there's terrible little
-difference. It's a caution how the Almighty's evened things up after
-all--that's a favourite idea o' mine," he went on quite earnestly, "the
-way He gives a square deal all round. In the long run, that is; you
-jest watch an' see if it ain't so. I ain't terrible religious, an' I
-ain't related to no class-leaders, but there's a hymn I'm mighty fond
-of--I'd give it out twicet a Sunday if I was a preacher--it has a line
-about 'My web o' time He wove'; an' I believe," David went on, his face
-quite aglow, "it's the grandest truth there is. An' I believe He puts
-in the dark bits where everybody thinks it's all shinin', an' the
-shinin' bits where everybody thinks it's all dark--an' that's the way it
-goes, you see."
-
-"That's all very fine," rejoined Mr. Glady, a little timid about what he
-wished to say, yet resolved to get it out; "that's all very fine in
-theory--but a fellow only needs to look around to see it makes quite a
-bit o' difference just the same," he affirmed, casting an appraising
-glance around the richly furnished room. "Money makes the mare go, all
-right."
-
-"Mebbe it does," said David, a far-off look in his eyes. "I wisht you'd
-both have some more crackers an' prunes; mebbe it does, but it don't
-make her go very far in--in where your feelin's is, I mean. There's far
-more important things than for the mare to get a gait on. Look at that
-Standard-oil fellow, out there in Cleveland, that's got more millions
-than he has hairs. Well, money made the mare go--but if it'd make the
-hair stay, I reckon he'd like it better. They say there ain't a hair
-between his head an' heaven. He could drop a million apiece on his
-friends, an' then have millions left; but they say he's clean forgot how
-to chaw--if he takes anythin' stronger'n Nestle's food it acts on him
-like dynamite, an' then he boosts up the price o' oil--he does it kind
-of unconscious like--when he's writhin'. I wouldn't board with him for
-a month if he gave me the run of his vault. But there's the fellow that
-drives his horses; he sets down to his breakfast at six o'clock--with
-his hair every way for Sunday--an' he eats with his knife an' drinks out
-of his saucer. An' when all his children thinks he's done, he says:
-'Pass me them cucumber pickles--an' another hunk o' lemon pie,'--so you
-see things is divided up pretty even after all. I believe luck comes to
-lots o' men, of course--but _one_ of its hands is most gen'rally always
-as empty as a last year's nest--you can't have everything," concluded
-David, looking first at the men's plates and then down at the crackers
-and prunes.
-
-"But one handful's a heap," suggested Mr. Glady, lifting the keel of a
-ruined herring to his lips.
-
-"'Tain't as much as you think for," retorted the host. "It don't touch
-the sore spot at all. If a fellow's got a good deal of th' almighty
-needful, as they call it, it may make his surroundin's a little more--a
-little more ornamentorious," he declared, wrestling with the word. "But
-there ain't nothin' more to it than that. Take me, if you like; I've
-got more than lots o' fellows--or used to have, anyway. But the
-difference is mostly ornament; a few more things like that there
-statute--or is it a statue?--I can't never tell them two apart; that
-there statute of the hamstrung lady you run up agin in the sittin'-room.
-But I never eat only one herrin' at a time, an' I jest sleep on one
-pillow at a time--an' if I have the colic I jest cuss an' howl the same
-as some weary Willie that a woman gives one of her own pies to, an' he
-eats all the undercrust. I'm afeard you don't like our humble fare," he
-digressed in a rather plaintive voice; "won't you have some more
-crackers an' prunes between you--they'll never get past the kitchen,
-anyhow."
-
-The horny-handed guests, declining the oft-pressed hospitality, began
-about this time to look a little uneasily at each other; visions of
-their original errand were troubling them some. Finally Mr. Hunter
-nodded very decidedly to his colleague, whereat Mr. Glady again produced
-his trusty handkerchief, and, after he had tooted his disquietude into
-its sympathetic bosom, cleared his throat with a sound that suggested
-the dredging of a harbour, and began:
-
-"Me and Mr. Hunter's got a commission, Mr. Borland. We're appointed
-to--to confer with you about, about the interests of the men, so to
-speak; about a raise--that is, about a more fairer distribution of the
-product of our united industry, as it were," he went on, serenely
-quoting without acknowledgment from the flowing stanzas of a gifted
-agitator whose mission had been completed but a week before.
-
-"I'm terrible glad you brought that up," David responded
-enthusiastically. "I hated to mention it myself; but I've been
-wonderin' lately about a little scheme. D'ye think the men would be
-willin' to kind of enter into a bargain for gettin' a certain per cent.
-of the profits an'----"
-
-"I'd stake my life they would," Mr. Hunter broke in fervidly. "Of
-course, we haven't no authority on that point, but I'm sure they'd be
-willin'--a more agreeable lot of men you never seen, Mr. Borland. Don't
-you think so, Tom?" he appealed to the approving Glady. The latter was
-framing an ardent endorsement--but David went on:
-
-"An' of course I'd expect them to enjoy the losses along with us
-too--then we'd all have the same kind o' feelin's all the time, like
-what becometh brethren. An' we're havin' a lot o' the last kind these
-days. What do you think, Mr. Glady?"
-
-Mr. Glady was sadly at a loss; with a kind of muscular spasm he seized
-his cup and held it out towards David; "I think I'll take another cup o'
-tea," he said vacantly.
-
-"Certainly--an' I want you an' Mr. Hunter to talk that little scheme
-over with the men. An' you must come back an' tell me what they
-think--come an' have supper with me again, an' I'll try an' have
-somethin' extra, so's we can eat an' drink an' be merry."
-
-Nobody had suggested departure; but already the three men were moving
-out into the hall. "How's all the men keepin', Mr. Hunter?--the men in
-our shops, I mean," the genial host enquired.
-
-"All pretty good, sir--all except Jim Shiel, an' he's pretty sick. He's
-been drawin' benefits for a month now."
-
-"Oh, that's too bad; but I'm glad you told me. I'll look around an' see
-him soon--your folks all well, Mr. Glady?"
-
-"Yes, thank you. But don't call me Mr. Glady," said the friendly
-delegate; "I'd feel better if you'd just call me plain Tom."
-
-"An' my name's Henry," chimed Mr. Hunter, "just plain Henry."
-
-"Them's two elegant names," agreed Mr. Borland, "an' I think myself
-they're best among friends. Speakin' about first names reminds me of an
-old soldier my grandfather used to know in Massachusetts. He fought for
-Washington, an' he had great yarns to tell. One was that one mornin' he
-assassinated thirty-seven British fellows before breakfast; an'
-Washington, he came out an' smiled round on the corpses. Of course, he
-slung old Hollister a word o' praise. 'I done it for you, General,' says
-old Hollister. 'Don't,' says Washington, 'don't call me General--call me
-George,'" and David led the chorus with great zest.
-
-"Well, we'll be biddin' you good-evenin'," said Mr. Glady, extending his
-hand.
-
-"Jest wait a minute; I sent word to Thomas to hitch up the
-chestnuts--he'll drive you down. Here he is now," as the luxurious
-carriage rolled to the door. Thomas controlled himself with difficulty
-as he watched Mr. Borland handing his petrified guests into the handsome
-equipage. Panic takes different forms; Mr. Glady wrapped the lap-robe
-carefully about his neck, while Mr. Hunter shook hands solemnly with the
-coachman.
-
-"I don't use this rig a terrible lot myself," he heard David saying;
-"it's a better fit for the missus. If you feel like drivin' round a bit
-to get the air, Thomas'll take good care o' you. Good-night, Henry;
-good-night, Tom," he sung out as the horses' hoofs rattled down the
-avenue.
-
-Then David went slowly back into the house. He wandered, smiling
-reminiscently, into the sitting-room. Pausing before the Venus de Milo,
-he chucked the classic chin.
-
-"Well, old lady," he said gravely, "there's more ways of chokin' a dog
-besides chokin' him with butter."
-
-
-
-
- *XVII*
-
- _*FRIENDSHIP'S MINISTRY*_
-
-
-If any man would learn the glory and beauty of a mighty tree we would
-bid him range the untroubled forest where God's masterpieces stand in
-rich profusion. But we are wrong. Not there will he learn how precious
-and how beautiful are the stately oak and the spreading beech and the
-whispering pine. But let him dwell a summer season through upon some
-treeless plain or rolling prairie, and there will be formed within him a
-just and discriminating sense of the healing ministry committed to these
-mediators between earth and sky.
-
-And men learn friendship best where friends are not. Not when surrounded
-by strong and loving hearts, but when alone with thousands of
-indifferent lives, do we learn how truly rich is he who has a friend.
-To find then one who really cares is to confront in sudden joy a
-familiar face amid the waste of wilderness.
-
-Alone among indifferent thousands as he alighted from the train, Harvey
-Simmons turned his steps, the streets somewhat more familiar than
-before, towards the house where dwelt the only man he knew in all the
-crowded city. A few enquiries and a half hour's vigorous walking
-brought him within sight of the doctor's house; he was so intent on
-covering the remaining distance that two approaching figures had almost
-passed him by when he heard a voice that had something familiar about
-it.
-
-"I'll do the best I can, Wallis," the voice was saying, "but I guess
-we'll have to put the child under chloroform."
-
-Harvey turned a quick glance on the speaker. It was none other than the
-doctor himself.
-
-"Dr. Horton--is that you, Dr. Horton?" the youth asked timidly.
-
-The older of the two men turned suddenly on his heel, the keen gray eyes
-scrutinizing the figure before him. It was but a moment till the same
-kindly smile that Harvey remembered so well broke over his face. Both
-hands were on the young man's shoulder in an instant.
-
-"You don't mean to say--I know you, mind--but you don't mean to say
-you're that young fellow from, from Glenallen--that brought his mother
-to me about her eyes?"
-
-By this time Harvey had possession of one of the hands. "I'm the very
-same," he said, his face beaming with the joy of being recognized.
-
-"How is she?" the doctor asked like a flash.
-
-The light faded a little from Harvey's face. "She can't see at all now,
-sir," he answered soberly. "She's quite blind--only she can tell when
-it's morning."
-
-"Thank the Lord for that," said the other fervently; "that's always a
-gleam of hope." Then followed a brief exchange of questions and
-answers.
-
-"How does your mother take it?" the doctor asked finally.
-
-"Oh, she's lovely--she's just as sweet and patient as she can be;
-doesn't think of herself at all."
-
-"Your mother must be a regular brick."
-
-"She's a great Christian," quoth her son. "I think that's what keeps
-her up."
-
-"Shouldn't wonder--it's the best kind of stimulant I know of," the
-doctor answered in a droll sort of way, turning and smiling at his
-companion. "Oh, excuse me, Wallis--what's this the name is?" he asked
-Harvey; "I've just forgotten it."
-
-"Simmons, Harvey Simmons," the other answered.
-
-"Of course; it's quite familiar now that I hear it. This is Dr.
-Wallis--and this is Mr. Simmons," he said to the other. "Dr. Wallis was
-just taking me to see a patient. Did you want to see me about anything
-in particular, Harvey?--you won't mind my calling you that, will you?"
-
-It only needed a glance at the pleased face to see how welcome was the
-familiarity.
-
-"Well, really, I did," Harvey responded frankly. Wherewith, briefly and
-simply, he told his friend the purpose which had brought him to the
-city, outlining the academic course he intended to pursue, earnest
-resolve evident in every word. "And I wanted to get your advice about a
-boarding-house," he concluded; "you see, I thought you might know some
-nice quiet place that wouldn't--that wouldn't be too dear," he said,
-flushing a little. "I'm quite a stranger in the city--but I don't want
-to go to a regular boarding-house if I can help it."
-
-"Well, no," the doctor began, knitting his brows. "And I really ought to
-be able to help you out on that. But I tell you--you come along with
-us; then we can talk as we go along. Besides, I'm sure Dr. Wallis here
-will be able to advise you much better than I could--he knows every old
-woman in the city."
-
-His confrre smiled. "It's mostly the submerged tenth I know," he
-answered; "I'm afraid there aren't many of my patients you'd care to
-board with. Want a place near the college, I suppose?"
-
-"That's not so essential," said Harvey; "I wouldn't mind a walk of a
-mile or so at all."
-
-"Good idea," said the other; "most students are pretty cheerful
-feeders--want a room to yourself?"
-
-"I'd prefer it--if it wouldn't add too much to the expense. I've always
-got to consider that, you know," returned Harvey, smiling bravely
-towards his new-found friend.
-
-"Right again," affirmed the doctor. "Single stalls are the thing;
-everybody sleeps better without assistance. Sooner have a few children
-around? Some fellows study better with kids in the house, and others
-again go wild if they hear one howl."
-
-"I believe I'd get along just as well without them," said Harvey,
-laughing; "you see, I'll need to study very hard--and I don't believe
-they help one much."
-
-"It's like studying in a monkeys' cage," asserted Dr. Wallis vigorously;
-"what I hate about little gaffers in a boarding-house is the way they
-always want to look at your watch," he enlarged solemnly, "and five
-times out of six they let it fall. It's fun for them, as the old fable
-says, but it's death to the frogs. And of course you want to get into a
-place where they have good cooking; it's pretty hard to do the higher
-mathematics on hash and onions--and lots o' students have lost their
-degrees through bad butter. I've known men whose whole professional
-life was tainted by the butter they got at college."
-
-"But I'm not over particular about what I eat," began Harvey; "if the
-place is warm, and if they keep it----"
-
-"That's all right enough," broke in the other, "but it makes a
-difference just the same. You've got the same kind of internal
-mechanism as other fellows, and you've got to reckon with it. Well,
-we'll see what we can do. I've got a place or two in mind now. I'll
-tell you about them later--we're almost at my patient's house. I say,
-you may as well come in--it'll be a little glimpse of life for you; and
-we can see more about this matter after we come out."
-
-Another hundred yards brought them to their destination, a rather
-squalid looking cottage on a rather squalid looking street. Dr. Wallis
-knocked at the door, pushing it open and entering without tarrying for
-response. As Harvey followed with the older doctor a child's wailing
-fell upon his ears, emerging from the only other room the little house
-contained.
-
-"Just wait here," said Dr. Wallis to the other two; "the child's in
-there--I'll be back in a minute."
-
-He disappeared, Harvey and his friend seating themselves on a rude bench
-near the door. Both looked around for a minute at the pitiful bareness
-of the room; and the eyes of both settled down upon a tawdry doll that
-lay, forsaken and disconsolate, on the floor. Tawdry enough it was, and
-duly fractured in the head; but it redeemed the wretched room with the
-flavour of humanity, and the solitary sunbeam that had braved the grimy
-window played about the battered brow, and the vision of some child's
-wan face rose above the hapless bundle.
-
-"He's a jewel," Dr. Horton said in a half whisper, "a jewel of the first
-water."
-
-"Who?" asked Harvey.
-
-For answer, the doctor jerked his head backward towards the adjoining
-room. "He just lives among poor people like these--they're all
-idolaters of his. He gives away every cent he makes; when he does get a
-rich patient he makes them shell out for the poor ones. I know one of
-my patients called him in once for an emergency--sprained his big toe
-getting out of the bath-tub--and Wallis charged him fifty dollars for
-rubbing it. Then he went out and gave the money all away; the patient
-forgot all about his toe after Wallis got through with him, I can tell
-you--the pain went higher up. But I was kind of glad--he was the head
-of a big plumbing firm, and I always thought Providence used Wallis as
-the humble instrument to chasten him."
-
-"Just come this way please, Dr. Horton," said a voice from the door.
-
-Sitting alone, Harvey listened to the muffled sounds within. The crying
-subsided as the odour of chloroform arose; and the voice of weeping was
-now the mother's, not the child's. Finally both grew still and a long
-silence followed. So long did it seem that Harvey had moved towards the
-door, intending to walk about till the operation should be over, when
-suddenly both men emerged from the tiny apartment.
-
-"It's all over," said Dr. Horton--"and I think it's been successful; I
-believe the child will see as well as ever she did."
-
-Harvey looked as relieved as though he had known the parties all his
-life.
-
-"I say, Horton," broke in the other doctor, "what'll you charge for
-this? Better tell me, and I can tell her," nodding towards the room
-where the mother was still bended over the beshadowed child.
-
-"Oh, that's not worrying me," said the specialist, carefully replacing
-an instrument in his case as he Spoke. "Nobody looks for money from a
-neighbourhood like this," indicating the unpromising surroundings by a
-glance around. "I'll get my reward in heaven."
-
-"A little on account wouldn't do any harm," returned the cheery Wallis.
-"It's out of the question to ask a man of your station to pike away down
-here for nothing; I'm going to try anyhow--just wait here till I come
-back," wherewith he turned towards the little room, closing the door
-carefully behind him as he entered.
-
-He had hardly got inside before, to Harvey's amazement, Dr. Horton
-dropped his surgical case and tiptoed swiftly to the door, stooping down
-to gaze through a keyhole that long years and frequent operations had
-left more than usually spacious. Watching intently, Harvey could see the
-face of his friend distorted by an expression partly of mirth and partly
-of indignation. For Dr. Horton could descry the woman still bending
-over the little bed, evidently oblivious to the fact that the doctor had
-returned; and Dr. Wallis himself was conducting a hurried search through
-his pockets upper and nether, a grimace of satisfaction indicating that
-he had found at last the material he was in quest of.
-
-The spying specialist had barely time to spring back to where Harvey was
-standing, when the other reappeared, smiling and jubilant.
-
-"You never can tell, Horton," he began, holding out a bill; "you can
-never tell--there's nothing like trying. Here's a five I collected for
-you, and it was given gladly enough. It's not very much but----"
-
-"You go to the devil," broke in the specialist, trying to look angry;
-"you think you're infernal smart, don't you?--but you haven't got all
-the brains in the world."
-
-"You surprise me, Dr. Horton," the other began vigorously, commanding a
-splendid appearance of injured amazement. "You don't mean to insinuate
-that I put part of the fee in my pocket, do you?" he demanded, striking
-a martial attitude, and inwardly very proud of the way he had changed
-the scent.
-
-"Put that rag back in your left-hand vest pocket where you got it,"
-growled the senior physician as he picked up his hat. "You may work
-your smart-Alec tricks with the poor natives round here--but you can't
-come it on me. Take Simmons along and find him some place to lay his
-head," he added, opening the door and leading the way outward to the
-street.
-
-The three walked together for perhaps four or five squares, the two
-physicians still engaged in the genial hostilities that Dr. Wallis's
-financial genius had provoked. Suddenly the latter came to a standstill
-at the junction of two streets, his eyes roving along a richly shaded
-avenue to his left.
-
-"I guess you'd better go along home, Horton," he said--"you'll want to
-post your ledger anyhow, after a profitable day like this. And I think
-I'll just take your friend here and go on the still hunt for a little.
-Don't look much like a boarding-house street, does it?" he added, as he
-marked the look of surprise on his contemporary's face. "But you never
-can tell--anyhow, I've got a place along here in my mind's eye, and we
-may just as well find out now as any other time."
-
-"Wish you luck," the older man flung after them as he went his way; "if
-you get lodgings at any of those houses you'll have to sleep with the
-butler."
-
-"It does look a little unlikely, I'll admit," Dr. Wallis said to Harvey
-as they started down the avenue; "but the whole case is quite unusual.
-This is a woman of over fifty I'm going to see--nobody knows
-exactly--and she's almost the only rich patient I've got. She lives a
-strange, half hermit kind of life--goes out almost none--and mighty few
-people ever get in. Except her clergyman, of course--she insists on
-seeing her minister constantly; I think he's just a curate, and I've
-always had the feeling that he'd consider death great gain--if it came
-to her. But for a while back she's been talking to me as if she wouldn't
-mind some one in the house, if they were congenial. It seems one or two
-attempts have been made to break in at nights--and the butler sleeps
-like a graven image. Just the other day I suggested she might take in a
-nurse, a young lady I know, who wants to get a quiet home--but I nearly
-had to run for shelter; she gave her whole sex the finest decorating
-I've heard for years. No women for her, thank you."
-
-"Is she a little odd?" Harvey ventured to enquire.
-
-The doctor looked him in the eyes and laughed. "Well, rather! Odd, I
-should say she is. But she's just as genuine as she can be. And if you
-get in there you'll be as comfortable as you'd be in Windsor
-Castle--quiet and secluded as a monastery, the very place for a student.
-She's been gathering beautiful things for years, all sorts of curios and
-rarities--and she's passionately fond of animals, keeps a regular
-menagerie. And she's great on keeping well; pretends to despise all
-doctors, and has a few formulas for every occasion. Deep breathing is
-her specialty--she's a regular fiend on deep breathing. But you'll see
-for yourself," the doctor concluded, as they turned in at an open gate
-and began to mount the stone steps that led to a rather imposing-looking
-door.
-
-Spacious and inviting, if somewhat neglected looking, were the
-old-fashioned grounds about the old-fashioned house. Great spreading
-trees stood here and there, perhaps thirty or forty in all, some in the
-sombre dishabille of autumn, some in unchanging robes of green. And two
-summer-houses, one smaller than the other, nestling in opposite corners,
-stood deserted and lonely amid the new-fallen carpet of dying leaves. A
-solitary flower-bed, evidently ill at ease amid the unfettered life
-about it, waved its few remaining banners, the stamp of death upon them,
-pensively in the evening breeze. There was an ancient fountain, too,
-but its lips were parched and dry, and the boyish form that stood in
-athletic pose above it looked weary of the long and fruitless vigil. Two
-brazen dogs stood near the gate, sullen and uncaring now, the chill wind
-awakening memories of many a winter's storm, and foretelling, too,
-another winter waiting at the door.
-
-Dr. Wallis gave the brazen door-knob an uncommonly vigorous tug. "She
-likes you to ring as if you meant it," he explained to Harvey, the
-distant product of his violence pealing and repealing through the house.
-
-"We'll likely have to wait a little while," the doctor remarked; "she
-never lets a servant come to the door till she peeks through that upper
-left-hand window herself. Don't look," he added hurriedly; "she
-mightn't let us in if she catches any one looking."
-
-After a few minutes' further waiting, the harsh grating of the heavy
-bolt and the violent turning of the reluctant handle were followed by
-the apparition of a head of iron gray, a pair of absolutely emotionless
-eyes fixed upon the visitors in turn. Dr. Wallis nodded, the man barely
-returning his salutation as he led the way into a large and solemnly
-furnished apartment on the left. Harvey's principal impression was of
-the height of the ceiling and the multitude of mirrors that confronted
-him on every hand; there seemed to be a goodly assemblage in the room,
-so often were its two solitary inmates reproduced.
-
-Harvey and the doctor were still engaged in a mental inventory of the
-room, its paintings, bronzes, and what not, all claiming their
-attention, when the solemn head of iron gray reappeared at the door.
-
-"Miss Farringall says she'll see you in her room," said the sphinx, his
-lips closing with an audible smack; whereupon the scanty procession was
-reformed, following the servant as he led the way up a winding flight of
-stairs. The man knocked at the door of a small sitting-room,
-precipitately retiring as soon as he had pushed it partly open.
-
-
-
-
- *XVIII*
-
- _*VOICES OF THE PAST*_
-
-
-Harvey followed his companion inside, peering eagerly for what awaited
-them. The mistress of the house fitted her surroundings well. She was
-reclining in an ample chair, a half-emptied cup of tea on a little table
-beside her. She was evidently much above medium height, spare and thin,
-a rusty dressing-gown folded loosely about her. Her hair was quite
-gray, and quite at liberty, not at all ill-becoming to the large, strong
-features, and the well-formed head. The brow was broad and high,
-wrinkled slightly, and furrowed deeply down the centre; high
-cheek-bones, a rather mobile mouth, a complexion still unfaded, joined
-with the bright penetrating eyes to make a decidedly interesting
-countenance. The face looked capable of tenderness, yet as if
-tenderness had cost her dear. A pair of gold-rimmed glasses sat
-shimmering on her brow; one swift shuffle of the face reduced them to
-their proper sphere.
-
-"Barlow didn't tell me there were two," she said, without looking at the
-doctor. She was looking beyond him at the stranger's face. "He's got
-both arms anyhow, thank heaven," she said, looking at Harvey. "He
-nearly always brings people with one arm, that want help," she explained
-to the newcomer, motioning towards a chair.
-
-"This is Mr. Simmons, Miss Farringall," the doctor began blandly. "I
-took the liberty----"
-
-"I know him," she interrupted gently, still surveying Harvey. "Didn't
-you hear me talking to him? And I know all about the liberty too--I do
-wish Barlow would count people before he shows them up."
-
-"How do you feel to-day, Miss Farringall?" enquired the physician.
-
-"Better," replied his patient. "I gave Barlow that medicine you sent
-me--I always feel better after Barlow takes it. Is your friend going to
-be a doctor?" she went on in the same breath, inclining her head towards
-Harvey.
-
-"Oh, no, he's going to the university--he's a student," the doctor
-informed her.
-
-"That's quite different--that'll save somebody's life. What did you
-bring him for?" she demanded frankly, turning the keen eyes for the
-first time from Harvey's face and fastening them on the doctor's.
-
-"Well, he was with me; he's a friend of Dr. Horton's and mine--and I
-thought I'd just bring him in. This is his first day. Besides," and the
-wily tactician paused a moment, "I wanted to ask your advice."
-
-"I'll charge you doctor's rates," said the spinster, restoring her
-spectacles to their former altitude.
-
-"That's cheap enough for anything," retorted the other. "And anyhow,
-I'll take the usual time to pay it. But seriously, Miss Farringall, I
-want your counsel on a matter we're both interested in. You see, I've
-promised to help Mr. Simmons get a boarding-house if I can, and I
-thought you might know of some suitable place--you've lived so long in
-the city," he explained with an amiable smile.
-
-"That's remarkably true," interrupted the lady as she rattled the spoon
-in the cup beside her--"and I've knocked about so much; lived in the
-streets, haven't I?--been a kind of a city missionary, I suppose. What
-kind of a place does your friend want?" she enquired with mock
-seriousness.
-
-"Oh, any nice quiet place," answered the intrepid doctor, "with plain
-honest people that'll make him comfortable. He wants quiet--and
-refinement--more than anything else, I should say."
-
-"If I had my things on, I'd just go out now and enquire around among the
-neighbours," the woman avowed gravely, trying to control two very
-rebellious corners about her mouth. "Where do you come from, sir?" she
-asked abruptly, turning on the silent Harvey.
-
-"From the country, Miss Farringall--from a place called Glenallen."
-
-"Parents living?"
-
-"My mother's living, ma'am; she lives alone--except, I have a sister."
-
-"What's her name?"
-
-"Jessie."
-
-"Sensible name. Are you a churchman?"
-
-"Yes, Miss Farringall--at least I hope so."
-
-"High?"
-
-"No," answered Harvey, wondering slightly. "No, just Presbyterian."
-
-"Oh!" said Miss Farringall, "I see. But you can repeat the creed?"
-
-"Oh, yes, we learned that at school."
-
-"And if you were living in a--in a church family, you'd be willing to
-come in to prayers when the rector came? You'd be quite willing, I
-suppose?"
-
-"I'd love to," said Harvey fervently.
-
-"And do you love animals?"
-
-"A good many," Harvey answered cautiously.
-
-"Birds?"
-
-"I love birds," said Harvey.
-
-"Dogs?"
-
-"Better still," replied the interrogated.
-
-"Cats?"
-
-"Sometimes. Of course, Miss Farringall, I won't have a great deal of
-time to devote to pets. I'll have to study pretty hard; it's largely
-through the kindness of a couple of friends that I have the chance
-to----"
-
-But his interrogator was already ringing a hand-bell with great vigour.
-
-"Barlow," she said, as the butler reappeared, "bring Grey here."
-
-"Yes, mum," murmured the mobile servant as he disappeared, returning a
-minute later with a large specimen of the feline tribe at his heels.
-The animal was mewing loudly as it came. Barlow turned and departed as
-his four-footed companion bolted in at the open door.
-
-Miss Farringall made a slight outward motion with her hands and the cat
-promptly sprang into her lap. Then he turned to survey the company,
-wasting only the briefest glance on the doctor's familiar face, but
-subjecting Harvey to the scrutiny that his strangerhood seemed to render
-necessary.
-
-"You may go, Grey," the woman said in an almost inaudible voice,
-whereupon the cat slowly descended, standing still a moment to continue
-its examination of the stranger. Gradually it drew closer, rubbing its
-sides at length against Harvey's ankles, still scrutinizing the face
-above. Harvey smiled, whereat the creature looked more intently than
-before.
-
-"Don't speak," whispered Miss Farringall, "I believe he's going to----"
-the prediction lost in a little gasp of excitement as the feline
-suddenly bounded into Harvey's lap, thence to his shoulder, its tail
-aloft like a banner, while a gentle purring issued forth as it began an
-affectionate circuit of Harvey's head.
-
-Miss Farringall's face was radiant, her spectacles now at high mast as a
-result of much facial contortion. "You can stay here if you like, Mr.
-Simmons, till--till I find a place for you," she said, her eyes still
-fixed in admiration on the cat. Dr. Wallis said nothing, inwardly
-blessing the whole feline race.
-
-"You're very kind, ma'am," Harvey began, his face crimson with an
-excitement he could hardly explain. "And I'll be good to Grey," he
-added desperately, not knowing what else to say.
-
-"You mustn't feed him, mind," the other broke out intensely--"not a
-mouthful of anything. And no thanks, if you please; I never knew Grey
-to make a mistake. Besides, there's something about you that reminds me
-of--of somebody else," she concluded, her tone softened into unwonted
-gentleness.
-
-"Was he a relative, Miss Farringall?" the doctor ventured, anxious that
-the reference should be appropriately received.
-
-"Who said he was a he at all?" retorted his friend, turning suddenly
-upon him as she groped aloft for the departed spectacles.
-
-"You can have the room over the dining-room," she went on, addressing
-Harvey again; "it opens on the lawn, and you must leave your window open
-summer and winter--wherever you maybe in winter," she corrected; "and
-breathe deep--breathe deep of the fresh air of heaven. Are you a deep
-breather, Mr. Simmons?" she enquired anxiously.
-
-"I've never thought much about it," said Harvey frankly; "but I'll try
-and learn, Miss Farringall," quenching a smile as he looked up at the
-earnest face.
-
-"It's life," she assured him earnestly, "pure life."
-
-"Miss Farringall's right," the doctor added gravely. "There's nothing
-more connected with life than breathing. I've often noticed that in my
-practice."
-
-But the irreverent reflection was wasted on the zealous heart of Miss
-Farringall. "Where are you going to stay to-night?" she asked; "it'll
-soon be dark."
-
-Harvey hesitated. "I thought I'd just take him home with me," the
-doctor volunteered; "then he could come here to-morrow."
-
-"Where's your trunk?" pursued the hostess.
-
-"It's at the station," said Harvey; "I've got the check."
-
-"Barlow'll attend to having it sent up; there's really no reason for him
-going away from here to-night. I'm willing--you and Grey are
-credentials enough for me," she added, her face relaxing into a more
-pronounced smile than Harvey had seen there before.
-
-Dr. Wallis was already moving towards the door. The grave Barlow had it
-open in advance. "You'll let us know in good time when you get another
-place for my friend, Miss Farringall--that is, when he has to leave."
-
-"Oh, yes, I'll attend to that," she assured him. "Don't let Grey get
-out, Barlow--it's too cold for him. Keep your mouth closed,
-Barlow--breathe through your nose," for the sudden shock of the
-intelligence that the doctor's words implied, the idea slowly filtering
-in upon him that a stranger was to pass the night beneath that sacred
-roof, had thrown poor Barlow's mouth as wide open as his ears.
-
-"Miss Farringall'll let you know when you've got to leave, Mr. Simmons,"
-said Dr. Wallis as he glanced furtively at Harvey, winking violently the
-while. "You'll feel more comfortable, I'm sure," he resumed, his
-features quite composed again as he turned towards the mistress of the
-house, "to have a man around at nights--there have been two cases of
-house-breaking on this street lately."
-
-"I know that," she answered with bated breath; "I'm often afraid at
-nights. I thought some one was breaking in last night; I was so sure of
-it that I turned on the light and began reading the prayer for those in
-peril on the sea--but it was just Barlow snoring. You snore like
-Niagara Falls, don't you, Barlow?"
-
-"Yes, mum," replied the accomplished, without moving a muscle.
-
-With a last cheery word to Harvey, and promising to return soon, Dr.
-Wallis withdrew, leaving the new-found relation to work itself out as
-best it could. Harvey waited a few minutes amid the mirrors in the
-parlour while his room was being prepared for its new occupant; to which
-he was promptly conducted by Miss Farringall herself, Barlow having
-retired for repairs to a very startled system.
-
-"I should think your trunk would be here a little after supper," she
-said as she showed him in, "and I'd advise you to change your flannels
-when it comes. Excuse my advice on such matters," she added, a delicate
-little flush stealing to her cheek, "but I'm old enough to be your
-mother--and besides, it's getting quite cool outside. I think there's
-nothing so wholesome as warm flannels--warm flannels and deep breathing.
-Sometimes I think people wouldn't ever die if they'd only change their
-flannels when the weather changes--and keep on breathing deep," she
-concluded, drawing a profound breath the while, her lips locked like a
-vice. "Supper'll be ready in half an hour."
-
-Then she hurried back to her little sitting-room, the kindly bosom
-rising and falling as she faithfully pursued the wondrous treatment.
-Gaining the room, she immediately rang the bell, and a moment later the
-partially recovered butler stood before her. He, too, had had a
-treatment; for which cause he breathed as lightly as the demands of
-nature would permit.
-
-"Hand me that box from my secretary, Barlow--that ebony box."
-
-He obeyed; and Miss Farringall held it a moment in her hands, then
-adjusted a tiny key and turned the lock. A queer little tremor rippled
-over her lips as the thin fingers groped a moment at the very bottom of
-the box. Those same fingers showed just the least unsteadiness as they
-released the dim gold clasp that bound a jet-black frame, which,
-opening, disclosed the portrait of a man about twenty-two or
-twenty-three years of age. She held it musingly in front of her a
-moment. Then she held it out towards Barlow, who promptly moved forward
-like some statue out-marching from its niche, his arms rigid by his
-side.
-
-"You've never seen that before, Barlow?"
-
-"No, mum."
-
-"Who do you think it's like, Barlow?"
-
-"I couldn't say, mum."
-
-"Don't you think it resembles that visitor of ours--that young man Dr.
-Wallis brought this evening?"
-
-"Yes, mum," Barlow assented, almost before she had finished her
-question.
-
-"Do you think it very much like him, Barlow?"
-
-"It's his livin' image, mum," said the talking statue.
-
-"You can go, Barlow."
-
-"Yes, mum," said Barlow, already gone.
-
-The woman sat alone in the fading light, the picture still before her.
-Suddenly she started, started as violently, almost, as if the dead face
-before her had broken into speech. Again the bell awoke the echoes of
-the lonely house, and again the servant stalked like a shadow to the
-door.
-
-"Barlow, what did Dr. Wallis say was that young man's name?"
-
-"I couldn't say, mum," answered Barlow, with the air of one who has been
-charged with murder. Even in the shadow he noticed the whiteness of the
-lips that questioned him.
-
-"Well, find it out then," she exclaimed, her voice rising as she half
-rose in her chair--"find it out, I say. What do you suppose you're here
-for, if it's not to know who's in the house?"
-
-"Yes, mum," Barlow responded, his tone now the tone of the convicted.
-
-"Never mind that--go and find out the name. Tell him we'll need to know
-when the postman brings the letters--tell him anything--go now," as the
-menial vanished in the direction of Harvey's room.
-
-It was but a moment till he was back. "It's Simmons, mum--he says it's
-Simmons."
-
-Miss Farringall was now erect. "What was his father's name?--his mother
-lives alone, he told me. Ask him what was his father's name--this
-minute, hear."
-
-Barlow was back in even less time than before. "Simmons," he said
-solemnly; "it seems his father's name was Simmons too, mum."
-
-His mistress advanced a step or two towards him; the faithful Barlow
-bowed his head like one ready to be offered. "Go back," she said in a
-low tense tone, "go back and ask him what his father's first name was.
-I want to know. And if you blunder this time, sir, you'll walk out of
-my house, mind."
-
-"Yes, mum," agreed the man, lifting his eyes devotedly as he spoke, and
-vanishing into the outer gloom.
-
-"Edward, mum," he informed her in a moment, "Edward Simmons--and he says
-what might you want to know for, mum."
-
-A wave of indescribable emotion swept over the woman's face. She walked
-slowly to the window, gazing blindly out at the encroaching shadows of
-the autumn night. She saw the lurid sky beyond the city's utmost
-fringe, still crimson with the gilding of a departed sun, touched with
-the colour that was fading fast; even as she looked, the once radiant
-clouds were turning cold and gray, the ashen hue of age displacing the
-splendour of their transient joy. And the withered leaves,
-contemptuously tossed by the rising wind, moaned about the knees of many
-a heartless tree that had once flaunted them so proudly, whispering the
-story of their beauty to both earth and sky. But the silent gazer saw
-little of the autumn scene. For the grave and tender eyes were fixed on
-something far beyond it, far behind, nestling in the bosom of departed
-years; and what they saw was blighted with no decay of autumn, but stood
-fresh and beautiful in the light of summer. Green fields they saw, and
-tender bud and opening blossom everywhere, the very clouds beautiful in
-noble gloom because of the unconquerable sun. And that sun was Love--and
-the face she saw amid it all was the face of Edward Simmons.
-
-Her eyes suddenly seemed to withdraw themselves from the scene without,
-turning wistfully upon the picture she still held in her hand. Only a
-moment did they linger there before they were turned again upon the
-autumn world without. And lo! The blackness of it all, its loneliness,
-all the pathos of the withered summer, seemed now to rise up before the
-woman's creative gaze; the sky, with its mystic tragedy as the glow
-surrendered to the gloom, the unbannered trees, the hurrying, homeless
-leaves, the dirge of the mournful wind--all these were deepened and
-darkened by that other vision of summer gladness that now was past and
-gone. For there is no mmistrant to sorrow like the sweet face of some
-dead happiness; it is June that gives November all its bitterness.
-
-Long musing, she turned at last from the window, again summoning the
-faithful servant.
-
-"Barlow," she said, the tone quite low, "go to the vault--look in that
-lower left-hand drawer and bring me a parcel of papers there. They're
-only newspapers," she added, "all tied together; bring them here."
-
-A few minutes later Barlow handed her the parcel. "Shall I light the
-gas, mum?" he asked, turning at the door.
-
-"No, thank you; I don't want it--but you can kindle the fire."
-
-Then she sat, the papers and the photograph in her lap, till the
-crackling flame was bright. And again the wistful eyes pored over the
-past as though it were an open book. Far clearer now she saw it than
-before. For every leaping tongue of flame babbled of other days while
-the hearth-fire plied its ancient subtle industry, calling up
-long-vanished faces as it ever does, rebuilding the ruined past, echoing
-once again the long silent tones of love--and the panorama of the bygone
-years passed in a lane of light between the burning eyes and the mystic
-fire, both knowing, both caring, both sorrowing.
-
-It was almost dark when the spare and slender form rose from the chair,
-moving to the secretary in the corner of the room. From the lowest
-compartment of it she lifted, very gently, a little bundle of letters.
-Then she picked up the photograph again, extracting an old newspaper
-from the parcel before her; a quick glance at its date confirmed what
-she already knew. Then, with the old daguerreotype and the old letters
-and the old faded newspaper in her hand, she sank upon a hassock that
-lay beside the fire--the fire too was old, so old and dear--and she
-smiled to herself as she settled down in the old girlish way, the lonely
-blaze greeting her as it flung its glow again upon the flushed and
-quivering face, as dear to it as in the gladder days of yore. One by
-one she turned them over--the picture and the letters and the paper--the
-whole story of her life was there. The shadows gathered deeper and
-darker as she sat and fondled these precious things, the only real
-treasure of all her treasure-laden house--but the fire burned on as
-brightly as in other days, as brightly as if it had never faltered
-through the years.
-
-
-It was a new sensation that crept about Harvey Simmons' heart that
-night, such a sensation as can come only to the youth who is denied for
-the first time the vision of his mother's face. It seemed strange to
-have said good-night to nobody in the old familiar way, to hear no
-reassuring sound of voices indistinctly chatting in the distance, as
-Jessie's and his mother's always could be heard, and to give or hear no
-final word of mirth or message as the lamp went out and the comfortable
-couch received him.
-
-The room appointed to him was replete with all that might minister to
-comfort, even rich and elegant in its appointments. How often Harvey
-had wished his own humble home had boasted such a room, not for himself
-but for another; yet, now that he had come into possession of all he had
-so often envied, how paltry and insignificant it seemed, how far beneath
-what he had imagined--and how gladly he would have exchanged it all for
-his little room at home, if he might have but again been near the dear
-ones from whom he had never been parted a single night in all the course
-of his uneventful life.
-
-His eyes fell upon a little table in the corner, generously furnished
-with materials for writing. It was, in consequence, very late before he
-committed himself to sleep. Yet he had only written two letters, the
-first to his mother, a faithful and exhaustive narrative of every hour
-since he had seen her last. It was a new experience to him, and he
-wondered a little at the almost mysterious ease with which he filled
-page after page. It was a new-found joy, this of writing--and both
-intellect and emotion entered into the task with a zest and instinct
-that surprised himself.
-
-The second letter was begun with much misgiving, and after long
-consideration. For it was to Madeline, to whom, in a kind of way he was
-quite at a loss to understand, his thought went out in his
-loneliness--far more, indeed, than it had ever done when he lived beside
-her. Much misgiving about this second letter there was, as has been
-said; and yet he felt it could not be unwelcome since its purpose was so
-far from personal--for its main story was of the little child and the
-poor family of whom he had come to know through his contact with Dr.
-Wallis. And he knew Madeline would love to help, in some way her own
-delicate judgment would suggest. But before he was through his pen had
-rather run away with him; and some of his impressions of the new life
-about him, with a little, too, that treated of life in general, had
-sighed itself in a kind of lonely soliloquy through the expanding pages.
-And he read this second letter over twice, correcting it with great
-care, a process the first had been denied.
-
-His trunk had been duly delivered, as Miss Farringall had assured him it
-should be, and it was with a kind of reverent tenderness that the lonely
-stranger raised the lid and surveyed all his poor belongings, each one
-lying where it had been placed by the loving hands that were now so far
-away. The care-worn face rose again before him as he bended over these
-last tokens of his mother's devoted care; and instinctively, with a dumb
-sense that she would have wished it so, he searched first for the sacred
-book he had seen her place there. He soon found it, and carrying it to
-where the light might fall upon it, he turned wistfully to the fly-leaf.
-Still with his eyes fixed on it he sat down on the bed beside him, the
-dim mist gathering as the poor misguided handwriting looked up at him in
-all the eloquence of sightless love:
-
-"_Dear Harvey_
- _From his loving mother_"
-
-was all that was written there. But every character was aflame with
-fondness, and every word was a vision, bright with tender beauty,
-fragrant of the unselfish courage that had filled their lowly lives with
-a gladness denied to many a richer home. The very waywardness of the
-writing, the lines aslant and broken, enhanced the dauntless love that
-penned them; and Harvey's lips were touched to the mute symbols with
-reverent passion.
-
-Still swimming, his eyes fell again upon the page, and he noticed--what
-he had not seen before--that something had been written at the lower
-corner. Isaiah 66:13, it said; and a moment later he had found the text.
-The full heart overflowed as he read: "As one whom his mother comforteth
-so will I comfort you." With a stifled sob, and still repeating the
-wonderful words, he sank on his knees beside the bed. And as he did so
-there arose before him the vision of other days, long departed now, when
-he had thus knelt for his evening prayer; a tranquil face looked down
-again upon the childish form, and he could almost feel the chill of
-little feet seeking cover while he prayed; the warm hands held his own,
-reverently folded together, and amid the stillness that wrapped his
-heart there floated out, with a silvery sound like that of an evening
-bell, the tones of the dear voice that had been so quick to prompt his
-childish memory or to recall his wandering thoughts. The hurried
-ending, the impulsive uprising, the swift relapse into boyish merriment,
-the plunge into the waiting crib, the good-night kiss, the sudden
-descent of darkness, the salvo of farewells the cozy cuddling into the
-arms of slumber--all these came back to him with a preciousness he had
-never felt before.
-
-His loneliness, prompted by every reminiscence, slowly turned to prayer.
-He tried to thank God for all the treasure his soul possessed in the
-dear ones at home, and to ask for strength to be worthy of love and
-sacrifice so great. He promised to be true; a swift memory of his
-mother's fear lest dormant appetite should prove his foe mingled with
-his prayer a moment, and was gone. For the whole burden of his pleading
-seemed to revolve again and again about the love-laden text that had
-taken such a hold upon his heart, till at last he only repeated it over
-and over before God: "As one whom his mother comforteth so will I
-comfort you." Suddenly he paused; for he felt, though he knew not why,
-that his mother too was kneeling by the Mercy Seat--distant far,
-sundered by weary miles, yet he could not dispel the assurance, which
-warmed and caressed his very life, that another kept her sacred midnight
-vigil. And as he thought of Jessie's slumbering face, and of the
-other's, upturned in pleading for her son, a deeper peace than he had
-known before crept about him, the loneliness vanished like a mist, and
-but a few minutes passed before he slept the sweet sleep of all homeless
-lads who trust the keeping of their mother's God.
-
-
-
-
- *XIX*
-
- _*A BRUSH WITH DEATH*_
-
-
-It was quite in vain that Harvey tried to read. For two much-loved
-faces, one worn and grave, the other bright and hopeful, kept coming and
-going between him and his book. Another, too, whose setting was a
-wealth of golden hair.
-
-"You seem in a hurry to get on--guess you're going home," broke in a
-voice from the seat immediately opposite his own in the crowded car.
-
-Harvey smiled and laid his book aside. "I'm in a hurry all right," he
-answered, "though I don't know that looking at one's watch every few
-minutes helps matters much. But I don't relish the idea of being late."
-
-"Student, aren't you?" asked the man, nodding towards a pin in evidence
-on Harvey's coat.
-
-"Yes--I'm just going home for a little visit."
-
-"Been long at college?"
-
-"A couple of years," answered Harvey; "they go rather slowly when a
-fellow's anxious to get through. Say, isn't this train going at a
-tremendous pace? What's the matter?" his voice rising as he clutched
-savagely at the side of the seat.
-
-It was too late for his companion to make reply--already he was being
-caught into the current of the storm.
-
-What followed defies description. Harvey's first thought was of some
-irregularity that would last but a moment--he could not realize that the
-worst had happened. A shrill voice from another part of the car cried
-out that they were off the rail, but he swiftly rejected the suggestion.
-An instant later he was as one struggling for his life. The engine had
-never left the rail and the driver was quite unconscious of the
-situation. Dragged ruthlessly along, the car leaped and bounded like a
-living thing: it seemed, like a runaway horse, to be stampeded by its
-own wild plunging as it was flung from side to side, bouncing almost
-clear of the road-bed with every revolution of the wheels.
-
-Flung into the corner by the window, Harvey braced himself as best he
-could with hands and feet, dimly marvelling at the terrible length of
-time the process seemed to last. He glanced upward at the bell-rope,
-swingly wildly; but he knew any attempt to reach it would be disastrous,
-if not fatal. Still the mad thing tore on; shrieks and cries rose above
-the din; parcels and valises were everywhere battering about as if flung
-from catapults; one or two of the passengers cried out in plaintive
-wrath, some as if remonstrating with a mettlesome steed, others as if
-appealing for a chance against the sudden violence. Harvey remembered,
-long after, how he had said to himself that he was still alive--and
-uninjured--and that all might yet be well, if it would only stop.
-
-Confused and terrified though he was, his senses worked with almost
-preternatural acuteness; he remarked the spasmodic eagerness with which
-men clutched at one another, muttering the while like contestants in a
-mighty struggle; the very grotesqueness of the thing flashed upon his
-mind an instant, as, the car taking its last desperate bound, he saw
-strong men flung about like feathers in a gale; two or three near him,
-shouting wildly, were tossed to the very ceiling of the car, their limbs
-outflung as when athletes jump high in air. Then the coach was pitched
-headlong; the man to whom he had spoken but a moment before was hurled
-through the spacious window, and the overturning car sealed his lips
-with eternal silence; two stalwart men fell full on Harvey's crouching
-form--darkness wrapped him about as the car ploughed its way down the
-steep embankment.
-
-"This is death," he said involuntarily, and aloud, as the dread descent
-was being accomplished. Many things--much that could never be
-reproduced, more that could never be uttered--swam before him in the
-darkness. A sort of reverent curiosity possessed his soul, hurrying, as
-he believed himself to be, into the eternal. He was to know now! All
-of which he had so often heard, and thought, and conjectured, was about
-to unfold itself before him. A swift sense of the insignificance of all
-things save one--such an estimate as he had never had before--and a
-great conception of the transcendent claim of the eternal, swept through
-his mind. Then suddenly--as if emerging from the very wreck of things,
-illumining all the darkness and clothing the storm with a mysterious
-calm, there arose the vision of his mother's face. A moment later all
-was still; blessed stillness, and like to the quietness of death. The
-car was motionless.
-
-But only for a moment did the stillness reign. Then came the wild
-surging of human voices, like the sound of many waters; appeal, frenzied
-fear, tormenting pain, pitiful enquiry--all blended to make it such a
-discord of human sounds as he had never heard before. It froze his soul
-amid all the agony of suspense he himself was bearing. For that human
-load was still upon him, still holding him pinned tight in the corner of
-the now overturned and shattered car; how much more might hold him down,
-he could not tell. And with this came his first real taste of terror;
-the thought of imprisonment beneath the heavy wreckage--and then the
-outbreaking fire--tore for a moment through his mind.
-
-But already he could feel the forms above his own writhing in their
-effort to rise; one, his thigh fractured, gave over with a loud cry of
-pain. The other was trying to lift him as gently as he might. Soon both
-were from above him. The moment that followed thrilled with
-suspense--Harvey almost shrank from the attempt to straighten himself up
-lest he might find himself pinned beneath the deadly truck. But he
-tried--and he was free. And he could see through the window of the
-door, upside down as it was, the sparkling sunshine, never so beautiful
-before.
-
-With a gasp of joy he bounded towards it--then stopped suddenly, checked
-by the rebuke of what he saw about him. For--let it be recorded to the
-praise of human nature and the credit of sorrow's ministry--every man
-who was unhurt seemed engaged with those who were. Strong,
-selfish-looking men, utter strangers, men who had sat scowling behind
-their newspapers or frowning because some child's boisterousness
-disturbed them, could now be seen bending with tender hands and tenderer
-words above some groaning sufferer, intent only on securing the removal
-of the helpless from the threatened wreck.
-
-Not threatened alone, alas! For even as they were struggling towards
-the sweet beguiling light a faint puff of smoke floated idly in about
-them; and the first to notice it--not with loud outcry but with hushed
-gasp of terror--was one unhappy man whom the most desperate efforts had
-failed to free from the wreckage. But as the car gradually filled with
-the smoke, and as, a little later, a distant crackling could be heard,
-the stifled moan became a cry, and the cry at length a shrieking appeal
-for deliverance from the living death that kept ever creeping nearer.
-
-"My God," he cried frantically, "you can't leave me here--I'll burn to
-death," his eyes shining with a strange unearthly light; "I'll burn to
-death," he repeated in grim simplicity.
-
-Harvey never left him till the all-conquering flame had all but kindled
-his own garments; half-blind, soaking with perspiration, gasping for
-breath, he at last turned his back upon the awful scene and staggered
-away. The waters of death were now surging about the man--if the
-unfitting metaphor may be allowed. As he groped his way towards the brow
-of the up-torn declivity, Harvey stumbled on the silent form of the man
-who had sat beside him in the coach--a brakeman was hurrying towards it
-with a sheet. Then dense darkness flowed about, and kind unconsciousness
-delivered him.
-
- * * * * * *
-
-"You've made as good progress as any man could look for," the doctor
-said; "don't you think so, Mr. Nickle? He's been lucky all through, to
-my mind; two broken ribs, and a twisted elbow, was getting off pretty
-well--considering what he came through. Another week will do wonders."
-
-"It's bad eneuch," rejoined the cautious Scotchman; "but it micht hae
-been waur."
-
-"Well, old chap, I guess I'll have to go," the doctor said as he began
-putting on his gloves; "just have patience and you'll be all right.
-What you'll feel most will be the result of the shock--don't get
-discouraged if you sag sometimes, and feel as if the bottom were falling
-out of everything. You'll likely have queer spells of depression--all
-that sort of thing, you know. 'Twouldn't be a bad idea to take a little
-spirits when you feel one coming on; and if a little doesn't help, take
-a little more," he concluded, laughing.
-
-Mrs. Simmons' face was white and drawn; but she controlled herself, and
-no word escaped her lips. When the doctor left the room she followed
-him, closing the door behind her. A few minutes later he returned:
-
-"Oh, I've just been thinking over that matter, Harvey," he began
-carelessly, "and I believe this prescription would be a fully better
-stimulant," producing pencil and pad and beginning to write.
-
-He remarked how Harvey received the advice--the latter's lips were pale,
-and the doctor could see them quivering. "Don't fool with the other at
-all," he added impressively: "I don't believe it would do you a bit of
-good."
-
-Geordie Nickle lingered after the doctor had taken his departure; but he
-found it quite impossible to engage Harvey in conversation. "I hae nae
-doot a' this sair experience'll be for some guid purpose," he began, the
-face of the saintly man suffused with the goodness of his heart; "only
-dinna let it be wasted, laddie. A wasted sickness is a sair thing, an'
-a wasted sorrow's waur--but there's naethin' sae sad as to look intil
-the face o' death, wi'oot bein' a different man to a' eternity. It's a
-waesome thing when a soul snatches spoils frae death--an' then wastes
-them on life, my laddie," earnestness and affection mingling in the eyes
-that were turned on Harvey's chair.
-
-But Harvey's response was disappointing. "If I could only sleep a
-little better, Mr. Nickle. I'm really all right except for my nerves.
-Yes, what you say is very true, Mr. Nickle."
-
-After one or two equally fruitless attempts, the old man seemed to
-realize the hopelessness of his efforts. "Weel," he said pleasantly, "I
-maun be gaein'--yon's the kirk bell that's ringin'. Why, there's
-David," he cried suddenly, looking out of the window; "I'll juist gie ye
-intil Mr. Borland's care. I think yir mither said she's gaein' till the
-kirk--we'll gang thegither," as the kindly patriarch made a brief
-farewell, withdrawing to join Mrs. Simmons and guide her to the house of
-prayer.
-
-"Hello, Harvey! Why, you're lookin' like a morning-glory," was David's
-salutation as he drew his chair up beside Harvey's. "I jest thought I'd
-drop in an' look you over a bit when Madeline an' her mother was at
-church. Ought to be there myself, I know," he went on, a reproachful
-smile on his face; "but it's such an elegant mornin'--an' besides, I'm
-doin' penance. I remembered it's jest two years ago to-day, by the day
-o' the month, since I traded horses with Jim Keyes--an' I thought mebbe
-I shouldn't have took any boot--so I thought I'd jest punish myself by
-stayin' away from the meetin' this mornin'. How're you keepin', Harvey?"
-he concluded earnestly, his elbows on his knees as he peered into the
-patient's face.
-
-"I'm not bad," said Harvey--"only a little grouchy. Is that really the
-reason you're not going to church this morning, Mr. Borland?" he asked,
-a slight note of impatience in the tone. David might have noticed,
-indeed, that Harvey seemed ill at ease, and as if he would as soon have
-been alone.
-
-David stared at him. "That there accident must have bumped all the
-humoursomeness out o' you," he said, grinning. "No, of course it's
-not--but Dr. Fletcher ain't goin' to preach to-day. That's the real
-reason. An' he's got a fellow from Bluevale rattlin' round in his
-place; can't stand him at all. He's terrible long--an' the hotter, the
-longer. They say he dives terrible deep; an' mebbe he does--but he
-comes up uncommon dry," and David turned a very droll smile on his
-auditor. "The last time I heard him, he preached more'n fifty
-minutes--passed some excellent stoppin'-places, too," David reflected
-amiably; "but the worst of it was when he come to conclude--it was like
-tyin' up one o' them ocean liners at the dock, so much backin' up an'
-goin' furrit again, an' semi-demi-quaverin' afore he got plumb still.
-That's the principal reason I'm punishin' myself like this," he added
-gravely. "Say, Harvey, what's makin' you so kind o' skeery
-like?--anythin' hurtin' you?"
-
-Harvey cleared his throat nervously. "I say, Mr. Borland," he began
-nervously, "would you do something for me?"
-
-David, very serious now, drew his chair closer.
-
-"You bet--if I can. What is it?"
-
-Harvey stood up and walked unsteadily towards the table. Then he thrust
-the little paper the doctor had left into a book. "I wonder if you'd go
-to the drug-store for me," he began rather huskily, "and get me a
-little--a little spirits--or something like that; spirits would be the
-best thing, I think--the doctor spoke of that. I'm just about all in,
-Mr. Borland--and I think if I were only braced up a little--just to tide
-me over, you know," he stammered, his courage failing him a little as
-David's steady eyes gazed into his own.
-
-David looked long in silence. Then he rose, and without a word he took
-Harvey in his arms. Slowly they tightened round the trembling form, the
-old man holding the young as though he would shelter him till some cruel
-storm were past. Tighter still he held him, one hand patting him gently
-on the shoulder as though he were a little child.
-
-Harvey yielded to the embrace--and understood. When at length David
-partially released him, he looked into the face before him. The eyes
-that met his own were swimming, and David's face was aglow with the
-yearning and compassion that only great souls can know.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," the shaking voice began, hardly above a whisper, "I love
-you like my own son. Don't, Harvey--for God's sake, don't; kill your
-mother some other way," and again he drew the now sobbing lad close to
-his bosom.
-
-A moment later he whispered something in Harvey's ear. It was a
-question--and Harvey nodded, his face still hidden.
-
-"I thought so," David murmured. "I thought so--an' there's only one way
-out, my boy, there's only one way out. An' it's by fightin'--jest like
-folks fight consumption, only far harder. That ain't nothin' to this.
-Jest by fightin', Harvey--an' gettin' some One to help you. All them
-other ways--like pledges, an' promises, an' all that--they're jest like
-irrigatin' a desert with one o' them sprayin'-machines for your throat.
-I ain't much of a Christian, I know--but there ain't nothin' any good
-'cept what Dr. Fletcher calls the grace of God. An' if you think it'd
-help any, from an old fellow like me--I'll--I'll try it some, every
-mornin' an' night; 'twouldn't do no harm, anyway," and the protecting
-arms again drew the yielding form into the refuge of his loving and
-believing heart.
-
-Only a few more sentences passed between the two; only a few minutes
-longer did David wait. But when he passed by the church on his homeward
-way his head was bowed, and his face was like to the faces of those
-whose lips are moist with the sacramental wine.
-
-
-
-
- *XX*
-
- _*THE RESTORING OF A SOUL*_
-
-
-"And you think you'll go back to-morrow, Harvey? Are you sure you feel
-strong enough, my son? Your voice is weak."
-
-Harvey's answer was confident enough. But pale he certainly was--and
-the resolute face showed signs of abundant struggle, and a new
-seriousness sat on the well-developed brow. "I think life'll be all
-different to me now, mother," he went on; "a fellow can hardly go
-through what I have, without seeing things in a different light. I
-didn't think so much of it when Mr. Nickle said it, but it's been
-running through my mind a lot lately--he said what a terrible thing it
-is for a fellow to snatch spoils from death and then waste them on his
-after life."
-
-"He's a godly man," the mother rejoined musingly. "He's been like a
-light to me in my darkness--often I think my heart would have broken if
-it hadn't been for him. When things looked darkest, and he'd drop in
-for a little talk, I always seemed to be able to take up the load and go
-on again. He and Mr. Borland have been good angels to us all," and the
-sightless face was bright with many a gladsome memory.
-
-"Mother, when you speak of darkness--and loads--do you mean--do you mean
-about your sight?"
-
-His mother reached out, instinctively guided, and laid a thin hand on
-one of Harvey's. "Do I speak much about loads, my son, and darkness?"
-she asked in a gentle voice. "For I've always asked for grace to say
-little of such things as those."
-
-"But you haven't answered me, mother," the son persisted. "Mother," he
-went on, sitting up straight, his voice arresting her startlingly,
-"you've been more to me, I think, than ever mother was to a son before.
-But I know, mother--at least, I think I know--I'm almost sure you've
-never told me all that troubles you; I feel sometimes as if there were
-some sealed book I've never been allowed to see. Don't you understand,
-mother?"
-
-"What do you mean, my son? How could it be so?"
-
-"Well, mother," he went on, his voice low and serious, "look at it this
-way. You know how easily a mother kind of scents out anything like that
-about a son--just by a kind of instinct. Well, don't you think sons
-love mothers just as much as mothers love sons?--and don't they have the
-same kind of intuitions? Don't you understand, mother?"
-
-She drew him closer to her side. "Yes, my son," she said after a long
-silence; "yes, I understand, my darling. If I understand anything, it's
-that. And I'm going to ask you something, Harvey--you'll forgive me, my
-boy, won't you? But what you've just said opens the door for what I'm
-going to ask. And I've wanted to do it ever since you came home."
-
-Harvey's heart told him what was coming. The very faculty he had been
-trying to define was pursuing its silent quest, he knew. And no
-movement, no exclamation betrayed surprise or resentment when his mother
-whispered her trembling enquiry in his ear.
-
-Perhaps he had never learned as well the luxury of a mother's love.
-Once or twice he looked up wistfully, as though his mother's eyes must
-be pouring their message into his, so full and rich was the tide of her
-outflowing love, strong, compassionate, healing, But the curtain still
-veiled the light of the luminous soul behind--and he realized then, as
-never before, that his loss had been almost equal to her own. Yet the
-soulful tones went far to make amends, caressing him with tenderness,
-inspiring him with courage, as little by little they drew from him the
-story of the days.
-
-"It all went so well for a long time, mother," he said, much having been
-said before. "Perhaps too well. I got the scholarship, as you
-know--and then another--and I was elected one of the inter-collegiate
-debaters. Then I got on the first eleven; perhaps that pleased me most
-of all; and I used to go to the other towns and cities often, to play.
-And I was so happy and comfortable at Miss Farringall's--she's been so
-good to me. And I gradually met a lot of nice people in the city; and I
-had quite a little of social life--that was how it happened," he said in
-a minor tone, his eyes on the floor.
-
-The mother said nothing, asked nothing. A moment later he went on of
-his own accord. "I don't mean to make excuses, mother," he began, "but
-I didn't really deliberately break the promise I gave you--and that
-comforts me a lot. But it was one night I was out at a Southern
-family's home--they had just come lately to the city, and Dr. Wallis
-knew them. Well, they had refreshments; and they had a lot of queer
-Southern dishes. One was a little tiny thing--they called it a
-syllabub, or something like that; I had never heard of it before. And I
-took it--it had wine in it--and oh, mother," his eye lighting and his
-voice heightening at the memory, "no one will ever know--it was like as
-if something took fire. I didn't know what it meant--I seemed so
-helpless. And I fought and I struggled--and I prayed--and I wrote out my
-promise to you and I used to read it over and over. And I was beaten,
-mother--I couldn't help it," he cried pitifully, his voice echoing every
-note of pain--"and then I felt everything was up and I had nothing more
-to fight for, and I just--oh, I can't tell you; it maddens me when I
-think of it--nobody'll ever know it all. And Miss Farringall tried so
-to help me--so did Dr. Wallis--but I wouldn't let anybody. I turned on
-them," he exclaimed fiercely; "and I tried to forget about you,
-mother--I tried to forget about you and Jessie. Then I played the
-coward. I came back afterwards to Miss Farringall, and I--I borrowed
-money from her;" he forced the words like one who tells a crime. "And
-after that----"
-
-Thus ran the piteous tale. The mother spoke no word for long,
-staunching the flowing wound as best she could and by such means as only
-mothers know. And she mutely wondered once or twice whether this--or
-that other night--had brought the deeper darkness.
-
-But when his voice was still; when the poor wild wailing that had rung
-through it all had hushed itself, as it were, within the shoreless deep
-of her great, pitying love, she asked him another question:
-
-"How much did you borrow from Miss Farringall, Harvey?" the voice as
-calm as if no storm of grief had ever swept it.
-
-"Five dollars, mother," he answered, the crimson face averted. "But I
-know one or two things I can deny myself this term--and that'll pay it
-back;" the glance that stole towards his mother was the look of years
-agone.
-
-Without a word, dignity in every movement, she rose and made her way to
-a little bowl that stood on the table. From it she took an envelope,
-her fingers searching it; then she handed him its contents, the exact
-amount.
-
-He broke out in loud protest; but she was firm. "You haven't anything
-there that you can afford to give up," she said quietly, "and we can
-afford this, dear--but not the other. Take it for mother's sake," as
-she thrust the bill into his hand. It was worn and faded; but his eyes
-fell upon it as upon a sacred thing, hallowed by the love and sacrifice
-and courage that had wakened many a holy vow in his heart before. As
-they did now again, this latest token burning the hand that held it,
-melting the heart that answered its appeal of love.
-
-And the mother's tryst began anew; closer than ever she clung to her
-unseen Helper; more passionately than before she turned her waiting eyes
-towards the long tarrying Light.
-
-
-
-
- *XXI*
-
- _*A HEATED DEBATE*_
-
-
-The years had left Harvey wiser than when first he entered college. The
-passing months, each opening the door a little wider, had admitted him
-farther and farther to the secrets of the new life about him--farther
-too, for that matter, into the mystery of life itself, the great
-complicated maze of which college life is at once the portal and the
-type.
-
-And as he stood in the main hall of the great Gothic building this
-bright spring morning, a reminiscent smile played about his lips as he
-recalled the day, far distant now, whereon he had first gazed in wonder
-on the animated scene. For that had been an epoch-marking day in
-Harvey's life. The very stateliness of the surroundings had filled him
-with a subdued awe he had never felt before, and his breath had come
-quicker at the thought that he, a humble child of poverty, was really a
-successor to the many great and famous men who had walked these halls
-before him. His gown was faded and rusty now, but he could recall the
-thrill with which he had first donned it years ago, the only badge of
-rank he had ever worn. And how fascinated he had been by the restless
-throng of students that buzzed about him that opening day, each intent
-upon his own pursuit, and all, or nearly all, indifferent to the
-plain-clad stranger who felt himself the very least among them. Some,
-with serious faces, had hurried towards the professors' rooms or gravely
-consulted the time-table already posted in the hall; while others,
-oblivious to the portent of the day, had seemed to hail it only as the
-gateway to a life of gaiety, entering at last upon the long-anticipated
-freedom their earlier lives had been denied.
-
-Not a few had moved idly about, turning blank faces here and there, all
-unquickened by the stimulus of the atmosphere and the challenge of the
-hour--dumb driftwood in life's onmoving stream. And some there had
-been--on these Harvey's gaze had lingered longest--who were evidently
-there by virtue of a heroism not their own, their plainness of apparel
-and soberness of mien attesting the struggle that lay behind the
-opportunity they had no mind to waste.
-
-
-He was opening a letter from Jessie now, handed to him from the morning
-mail; and the tide of youth flowed unnoticed about him as he devoured
-it, still standing on the spacious stair that led upward from the main
-entrance of the college. The smile on his face deepened as he read; for
-the letter was full of cheery tidings, all about their every-day toilful
-life, quickened as it had been by the good news concerning his progress
-in his studies. "We're quite sure you'll get another scholarship,"
-wrote the hopeful Jessie. And then followed the news of the
-village--much regarding Dr. Fletcher and the church, and a reference to
-the hard times that were paralyzing business--and a dark hint or two
-about the struggle David Borland was having to pull through; but it was
-rumoured, too, that Geordie Nickle was giving him a hand, and doubtless
-he would outride the storm. And Cecil had been home two or three times
-lately, the letter went on to say--and he and Madeline had been seen a
-good deal together, and everybody knew how anxious Mrs. Borland was that
-it should come to something--but everybody wondered, too, what was
-coming of Cecil's work in the meantime; these things the now unsmiling
-Harvey read towards the close of the letter. And the last page or so
-was all about their mother, her sight giving as yet no sign of
-improvement, and her general health causing Jessie no little alarm. But
-they were hoping for the best and were looking forward with great
-eagerness to Harvey's return when the college year should be ended.
-
-Harvey was still standing with the letter in his hand when a voice broke
-in on his meditations.
-
-"Well, old sport, you look as if you'd just heard from your sweetheart,"
-as Harvey looked quickly up. It was Cecil himself, and he stopped
-before his fellow student as if inclined to talk. For much of the
-antagonism between the two had been dissolved since both had come to
-college, Cecil being forced to recognize a foeman worthy of his steel
-when they had met on an arena where birth and patrimony go for nothing.
-A few casual meetings had led to relations of at least an amicable sort;
-once or twice, indeed, he had sought Harvey's aid in one or two branches
-of study in which his townsman was much more capable than himself. But
-such occasions were obviously almost at an end. For the most
-uninitiated might have diagnosed Cecil's case as he stood that spring
-morning before the one he had so long affected to despise.
-
-A false ideal of life, and of what constitutes life's enjoyment, and a
-nature pampered from childhood into easy self-indulgence, together with
-strong native passions and ample means wherewith to foster them, had
-made their handiwork so plain that he who ran might read. The face that
-now was turned on Harvey was stained and spotted with marks significant
-of much, the complexion mottled and sallow, the eye muddy and restless,
-the voice unnaturally harsh and with the old-time ring departed--such a
-voice as years sometimes give. Real solicitude marked Harvey's gaze as
-it rested on the youth before him; something of a sense of kinship,
-because of old-time associations--in spite of all that had occurred to
-mar it--and a feeling that in some indefinable way the part of protector
-was laid upon him, mingled with his thoughts as he noted the symptoms of
-the ill-spent years.
-
-"From your very own, isn't it?" Cecil bantered again, looking towards
-the letter in Harvey's hand.
-
-"You're right enough; that's exactly where it came from," the other
-answered, smiling.
-
-"I was just thinking about you," Cecil went on; "I've kind of chucked
-classes for this session--going to study up in the summer and take the
-'sup's' in the fall. I've been too busy to work much here," he
-explained with a grimace--"but that's not what I wanted to speak to you
-about; some of the fellows asked me to bring you round to a little
-meeting we're going to have this evening--seven to eight o'clock--we're
-going to the theatre after it's over. It's something kind of new;
-Randolph got on to it down in Boston, and they say it's fairly sweeping
-the country. I believe myself it's the nearest thing to the truth, in
-the religious line, anybody's discovered yet."
-
-"What is it?" Harvey asked interestedly.
-
-"Well, it's a kind of religious meeting, as I said," Cecil informed
-him--"only it's new--at least it's new here; it's a kind of theosophy,
-you know--and many of the strongest minds in the world believe in it,"
-he added confidently. "That's why we want you to sample it."
-
-Harvey waited a little before answering. "I've heard a bit about it,"
-he said at length; "I've read about it some--and I'd advise you to leave
-that sort of thing alone, Craig."
-
-"You're not fair," the other retorted; "you've never heard it expounded,
-have you, now?"
-
-Harvey admitted that he had never had that privilege.
-
-"Then I want you to come to-night," urged Cecil; "come and give it a
-trial anyhow."
-
-A little further parley ended in Harvey's consenting to attend the
-gathering of the faithful, not, however, without much candid prediction
-of the issue.
-
-
-Seven o'clock found him there. The believers, some thirteen or fourteen
-in all, were already assembled, and Harvey's scrutiny of the different
-faces was swift and eager. Some few he recognized as those of earnest
-students, men of industry and intelligence. Others, the light of eager
-expectation on them as though the mystery of life were at last to be
-laid bare, belonged to men of rather shallow intellect, novelty-mongers,
-quick to yield to a seductive phrase or a plausible theory, men with
-just enough enterprise of soul to put out from shore, yet not enough to
-take their bearings or to find a pathway in the deep beyond. And two or
-three, conspicuous amongst whom was Cecil, were evidently hospitable to
-any theory, however fanciful, that would becalm the inward storm of
-their own making, and promise healing to secret wounds of shame, and
-absolve from penalties already pressing for fulfillment. Not
-intellectual unrest, but moral ferment, had been the tide wherewith they
-had drifted from the moorings they were now endeavouring to forget and
-professing to despise.
-
-The little room was fairly full and Harvey was seated on a small table
-in the corner. The proceedings were opened by a solemn-visaged youth
-who evidently felt the responsibility of his office. For he paused
-long, looking both around him and above, before he proceeded to read
-some ponderous passages from a book, evidently their ritual.
-
-Much of this was punctuated by ejaculatory eulogies of one, Lao-tsze.
-Harvey had never heard this name before, but the expounder pronounced it
-frequently in terms of decided reverence; and he was at great pains to
-convey to his hearers his dependence upon this man of unpronounceable
-name as the fountain-head of inspiration and guidance.
-
-The solemn disquisition ended, several others added their testimony to
-the light and comfort this teaching had afforded them, one or two
-venturing further to expound some doctrines which all seemed to find
-precious in proportion as they were obscure. Such phrases as
-"explication of the Divine Essence," "deduction of the phenomenal
-universe," "unity imminent in the whole," were freely dispensed, the
-listening faces answering with the light of intelligence, the light most
-resolutely produced where the shades were deepest. "Paracelsus" was a
-name several hastened to pronounce, and familiarly, as though he were an
-old-time friend. One very small student with a very bespotted face
-broke his long silence by rising to solemnly declare that since he had
-been following the new light he had come to the conclusion that God was
-the great "terminus ad quem," taking a moment longer to express his
-surprise and disappointment that all men did not so discern the truth in
-its simplicity.
-
-Another rose to deplore that so little was known of the life of the
-great and good Lao-tsze, but comforted his hearers with the assurance
-that this distant dignitary had been reincarnate in a certain American
-poet, whose name he mentioned, well known as a wandering printer whose
-naked lucubrations were given at intervals to a startled world. This
-later apostle then received his share of eulogy, after which the ardent
-neophyte quoted copiously from his works, scattering the leaves of grass
-among the listening circle.
-
-Exhausted, the speaker surrendered the floor to another, who launched
-into a glorification of the great Chinaman--and his successor--amounting
-to a deification. To all of which Harvey listened in respectful
-weariness, for he knew something of one of them at least, and of his
-works. Suddenly the devotee introduced the great name of Jesus Christ;
-for purposes of comparison alone did he quote the latter name, conceding
-to the founder of the Christian faith a place among the good and great,
-but making no attempt to conceal the deeper homage he accorded to the
-other.
-
-This was too much for the visitor, who could hardly believe his ears.
-Indifference had gradually taken the form of contempt, this in turn
-deepening to disgust as he listened to what at first struck him as
-shallow platitude, descending later to what he esteemed as blasphemous
-vulgarity. Deeper than he knew was his faith in the One his mother had
-taught his childish lips to bless; and, as there rose before him a
-vision of the humble life that same faith had so enriched and
-strengthened, of the heavenly light that had gilded her darksome path,
-of the sweetness and patience that this light and faith had so
-wonderfully wrought, his soul rose up in a kind of lofty wrath that
-overbore all considerations which might have sealed his lips. Moreover,
-a casual glance at his watch informed him that it was exactly half-past
-seven--and the covenant he had scarcely ever forgotten at that hour was
-secretly and silently fulfilled.
-
-Rising during a momentary silence, he was received with a murmur of
-subdued applause. But the appreciation of the circle was short-lived.
-
-"Did I understand the last speaker to say," he asked in a low, intense
-voice, "that he puts that man he quoted from--that American
-poet--alongside of, or ahead of, Jesus Christ?--as a moral character, I
-mean, and as a teacher of men?"
-
-The youth thus addressed made some evasive reply, not, however, revising
-his classification in the least.
-
-"Then listen here," exclaimed Harvey as he reached for the volume of
-poems lying on the table. "I'll read you something more from your
-master." Hastily turning the leaves, he found the passage he was in
-search of after some little difficulty, and began slowly to read the
-words, their malodour befouling the atmosphere as they came.
-
-One of the faithful rose to his feet with a loud exclamation of protest.
-But Harvey overbore him. "If he's all you say he is, you can't
-reasonably object," he declared; "I'm not reading anything but what he
-wrote," still releasing the stainful stream.
-
-Harvey flung the book on the table as he finished. "The gutter's the
-place for that thing," he blurted out contemptuously; "that's where it
-came from--a reprobate that deserted his own children, children of shame
-though they were, and gave himself to kindling the lowest passions of
-humanity--these be your gods, oh Israel," he went on scornfully. "I'll
-crave permission to retire now, if that's the best you've got to help a
-fellow that finds the battle hard enough already--I'll hold to the old
-faith till I get some better substitute than this," moving towards the
-door as he spoke.
-
-The leader almost angrily challenged him. "Perhaps our friend will tell
-us what he knows about 'the old faith,' as he calls it, and why he
-clings to it so devotedly--it's not often we get a chance to hear from a
-real Christian," he added jeeringly, "and it's a poor cause that won't
-stand argument."
-
-A chorus of voices approved the suggestion. "If you've got one good
-solid intellectual argument for it, let us hear it," one student cried
-defiantly. "We've had these believers on general principles with us
-before."
-
-Harvey turned, his hand already on the door, his face white and drawn.
-"Yes," he cried hotly, "I'll give you one reason--just one--for the
-faith that's in me. I don't profess to be much of a Christian--but I
-know one reason that goes for more with me than all the mouthings I've
-heard here to-night. It's worth a mountain of such stuff."
-
-"Let's have it, then," the leader said, moving closer to where Harvey
-stood. "Give us your overwhelming argument."
-
-Harvey cast a haughty glance at him and those behind him.
-
-"I will," he thundered; "it's my mother, by God," he cried passionately,
-the hot blood surging through his brain--"do you hear that--it's my
-mother."
-
-There was a brief hush, for they must be reprobate indeed who would not
-recognize that sovereign plea. But one intrepid spirit soon broke the
-silence; a young stalwart of nineteen or twenty, towering among the
-rest, was quickly to the fore with his verdict. "Just what I expected,"
-he drawled derisively; "the old story of a mother's influence; you
-forget, my dear fellow," turning towards Harvey as he spoke, "how
-credulous the woman-heart is by nature--and how easily they imagine
-anything they really want to believe. Besides, we haven't the advantage
-of knowing your saintly relative," he added, something very like a sneer
-in the voice.
-
-He was evidently bent on developing his idea, but the words had hardly
-left his lips before Harvey had brushed aside those who stood between as
-he flung himself towards the speaker. His eyes were aflame, and his
-burning cheek and flashing eye told how deep the taunt had struck. He
-did not stop till his face was squarely opposite the other's, his lips
-as tense as though they would never speak again.
-
-"Gemmell," he said, calling the man by name, "I don't know whether you
-mean to insult me or not--but I'll find out. You don't know anything
-about my mother--and she's not to be made the subject of discussion
-here. But I know her; and I know the miracle her dark life's been. And
-if you say that that's all been just her imagination, and her credulity,
-then I say you're a liar and a cad--and if you want to continue this
-argument outside, by heavens, here's the door--and here's the
-invitation, ---- you," as he smote the astonished debater full in the
-face. Parrying the return blow, his lips white and livid, he turned to
-lead the way outside. His fuming antagonist made as if to follow him;
-but two or three, springing between the men, undertook the part of
-peacemakers. Perhaps Cecil's efforts were as influential as any. "Let
-the thing drop, Gemmell," he counselled his friend in a subdued voice;
-"I know him of old--and he's the very devil in a fight."
-
-Whatever the cause, the fact remains that when Harvey paused a minute or
-two outside the door he found himself joined by none but Craig himself.
-
-"Come on," said the latter, "what's the use of making fools of ourselves
-over religion? Come on, and we'll go to the theatre. I told you we
-intended going there after anyhow--but I doubt if the others will be
-going now; so we'll just go ourselves. There won't be anything very
-fine to hear, perhaps--but there'll be something real interesting to
-look at," with a laugh that his companion could hardly fail to
-understand. But Harvey was thinking very little of what his guide was
-saying, his mind sufficiently employed with the incident just concluded,
-and he hardly realized whither he was being led till he found himself
-before the box-office in the lobby. A rubicund face within was the
-background for a colossal cigar that protruded half-way through the
-wicket; Cecil was enquiring from the source of the cigar as to the price
-of tickets.
-
-Rallying, Harvey made his protest and turned to go away. "I've got to
-work to-night," he said; "it's too near exams."
-
-Craig laughed. "Don't get nervous," he retorted significantly. "I'll
-pay the shot--it's only half a dollar each."
-
-Whereat Harvey, the pride of youth high within him, strode back to the
-window, almost pushing his companion from him as he deposited his money
-and pressed on into the crowded gallery.
-
-Not more than half an hour had passed when the spectacular side, as
-Cecil had so confidently predicted, grew more and more pronounced.
-
-"I told you," he whispered excitedly to Harvey; "look at that one in the
-blue gauze skirt," leaning forward in ardent interest as he spoke.
-
-Harvey's answer was given a few minutes later when, without a word to
-the enchanted Cecil, he rose and quietly slipped towards the door and
-downward to the street. "Money with blood on it, too," he half muttered
-hotly to himself as he passed the office that had received the hard-won
-coin.
-
-Hurrying towards home, he suddenly noticed a heavy dray backed up
-against the window of an office; evidently the moving was being done by
-night, that the day's work might not be interrupted. Pausing a moment to
-watch, the stormy face brightened a little as he stepped up to the man
-in charge of the waggon. There were only two, which made Harvey more
-hopeful of his scheme.
-
-"Want any help?" he asked abruptly.
-
-"You're right we do," the man answered promptly. "Another of our men was
-to be here to-night, but he hasn't turned up--I'll bet a five he's in
-the gods over there," nodding towards the festive resort that Harvey had
-deserted.
-
-"How long will it take?" enquired the student.
-
-The man reflected a moment. "Oh, I guess about two hours," he surmised;
-"that is, to get the things out and then get them hoisted in at Richmond
-Street."
-
-"How much'll you give me if I help you?"
-
-"I'll give you forty cents--and you'll have a free ride," said the man
-jocosely.
-
-"Make it fifty," proposed Harvey. "I owe half a dollar--I'll do it for
-fifty cents."
-
-"All right," replied the teamster, whereat Harvey flung the coat from
-his back and the burden from his conscience. And the face which Miss
-Farringall was now coming to await so eagerly was very bright when he
-got home that night, her own beaming as she marked its light.
-
-
-
-
- *XXII*
-
- _*BREAKERS AHEAD*_
-
-
-There is a peace, deep and mysterious, which only the defeated know. It
-is familiar to those who, struggling long to avert a crisis, find that
-their strivings must be all in vain. The student long in doubt; the
-politician weary of his battle; the business man fighting against
-bankruptcy--all these have marvelled at the strange composure that is
-born when the last hope of victory is dead. Many an accountant and
-confidential clerk, contriving through haunted years to defer the
-discovery which must some day lay bare his shame, has felt this
-mysterious calm when destiny has at last received him to her iron bosom.
-And who has not observed the same in some life struggling against
-weakness and disease?--when the final verdict is announced and Death
-already beckons, the first wild tumult of alarm and anguish will
-presently be hushed into a silent and majestic peace.
-
-David Borland's kindly eyes had less of merriment than in the earlier
-years. The old explosive spark was there indeed, unconquerable still;
-but the years had endowed the face with a gentle seriousness, not
-visible before, which yet became it rather better than the merriment it
-had unconsciously displaced. And there were signs that other enemies
-than the passing years had wrought their havoc on the mobile face. For
-care and conflict, hope of victory to-day and fear of overthrow
-to-morrow, had wrought such changes as the years could not effect.
-
-Yet there was more of peace in the serious eyes than there had been of
-yore. Madeline was beside him as he sat this morning by the window,
-gazing long in silence at the handiwork of spring without. Soft wavy
-clouds floated in the sky, pressing serenely on their way as if there
-were no such things as tumult and pain and disappointment in the world
-beneath them; the air was vocal with many a songster's jubilation that
-his exile was past and gone; the bursting trees and new-born flowers and
-tender grass all joined the silent anthem that acclaims the regeneration
-of the year--and David thought they had never seemed so beautiful.
-
-"There isn't nothin' can take that away from us, Madeline," he said at
-last, obviously as much to himself as to the girl beside him.
-
-"What, father?" she enquired softly.
-
-"Oh, lots o' things--all the real things, that is. All that's lovely;
-all I'm lookin' at now--nobody can't take them away, the trees, an' the
-flowers, an' the birds. No matter how poor we get, they're some o' the
-things thieves can't break through an' steal, as the Scriptur' says," he
-mused, gazing far over the meadow at the orchard in its bridal robes,
-and beyond them both to the distant grandeur of the sky.
-
-"Will we really have to give up very much, father?" the girl ventured,
-unconsciously turning as she spoke and permitting her eyes to rove a
-moment about the richly furnished home.
-
-David was silent quite a while. His face seemed wrung with a pain he
-could not control, and his hands went out gently towards the girl's
-head.
-
-"Let it down, daughter," he said quietly.
-
-"What, father? Let what down?"
-
-"I like it better the old way, dear," he said in answer, already
-releasing the wealth of lovely hair; "let it fall over your shoulders
-the way it used to do, Madeline," as the flowing tresses, but little
-darkened by the darkening years, scattered themselves as in other days.
-"Now sit here, Madeline--come. No, you're not heavy, child; I've got
-kind o' used to carryin' loads these days--an' this always seems to make
-'em lighter," as she nestled in his arms.
-
-Another long silence followed, broken at last by David's brave,
-trembling voice. "This is the hardest part o' the whole business,
-Madeline," he said resolutely. "But I just found out the worst this
-mornin' --an' I ain't goin' to keep nothin' back. I've failed,
-daughter; I've failed--leastways, I've failed in business. I don't
-think I've failed no other way, thank God," he added in firmer tone, but
-still struggling with his words. "There won't be no stain, Madeline,"
-his lips touching the flowing strands as he spoke; "but things got awful
-tight--an' I made one last terrible effort--an' it failed; it failed,
-Madeline."
-
-The girl's arm was about his neck. "I knew there wouldn't be any
-stain," she murmured as her face was bended downward to his own; "not
-with my father--and it won't stop us being happy, will it?" she added
-hopefully, looking into the care-worn eyes.
-
-"No, dear, no," responded David--"only there's just one thing troubles
-me the most. It's about Geordie Nickle. He bought a lot o' the stock;
-I felt at the time he done it just to help me--an' I didn't ask him--an'
-I kind o' hoped it'd all come out all right. But it didn't,
-Madeline--an' Geordie's lost an awful lot. I don't know if he has more
-left--but I'm hopin' so. There ain't no better man in the world than
-him. One of the things that's always kept me believin' in God, is--is
-just Geordie Nickle. Men like him does more to keep faith livin' than
-all the colleges an' all the professors in the world; he's a beautiful
-argument for religion, is Geordie Nickle--he kind o' proves God, just
-the same as one sunbeam proves the sun," David concluded, his eyes still
-fixed on other credentials in the silent glory that wrapped earth and
-sky.
-
-It was some time before Madeline spoke again. "Poor old father," she
-said gently; "what you must have suffered all these long months--more
-than mother and I ever thought of."
-
-"It's been years, child," the father answered softly; "lots o' times I
-thought I couldn't stand it no longer--but it came awful easy at the
-last," he suddenly exclaimed. "It was a kind of a relief when I knew
-the worst--real funny, how calm I took it. It's a little like some
-women I seen once at an afternoon five-o'clock at-home," he went on
-dryly, a droll smile stealing over his face; "they was eatin' them
-little rough cakes they call macaronies--an' I was watchin' two or three
-of the nobbiest of 'em. Well, they nibbled an' nibbled so dainty, like
-a mouse at a hunk o' cheese--an' then, when they thought nobody wasn't
-lookin', they just stuck the whole thing in an' swallowed it like a
-bullfrog does a fly, an' then passed their cup as calm as you please for
-another helpin' o' tea. That's a good deal the way I took my medicine
-when I got the last dose of it--had a kind of a feelin' of relief.
-Didn't you never notice how easy an' quiet a stream runs when it's past
-the waterfall? Shouldn't wonder if this feelin' I've got's somethin' the
-same as the way some fellows enjoys gettin' a tooth yanked after they've
-been holdin' hot salt to it every night for a month," and David heaved a
-reminiscent sigh as the memory of his own sleepless nights drifted
-before him for a moment.
-
-Very low, much of it inarticulate, some of it altogether silent, was the
-language with which Madeline sought to comfort the weary and wounded
-heart, little knowing how successful she was; the father held her closer
-and closer to him; and the swiftly slipping treasures around them, that
-must soon be sacrificed, seemed more and more insignificant as the
-preciousness of love's possessions grew more real and more dear.
-
-"Do you know, Madeline, they tell me I won't be worth nothin' when
-everythin's sold--an' I only hope there'll be enough for everybody--they
-tell me I won't be worth nothin'--but I never felt richer than I do this
-minute," the words coming from lips half hidden among the golden hair.
-"They can all go to thunder about their assets, so long's I've got this
-one--Bradstreet's an awful liar about how much a man's worth," he added
-almost gleefully, holding Madeline's soft hand to his furrowed cheek.
-
-"And I never loved you so much as I do right now," the girl responded,
-employing his own words, her hand wandering among the gray. "Only I'm
-so sorry for mother--she was so fond of all the things. Where do you
-suppose we'll live, father?" she asked him timidly after a pause.
-
-Mr. Borland made no reply for a little, his eyes fixed upon a lane of
-sunbeams that came dancing through the window.
-
-"I can't exactly say, Madeline," he began slowly. "Only I reckon it'll
-be a little place, wherever it is--but them's often the kind that has
-the most room," he went on reflectively; "I'm sure there'll be room for
-everybody we love, an' every one that loves us. I often think how it
-was the One that hadn't no place to lay His head that offered everybody
-else a place to rest in," he mused reverently; "an' I think it ought to
-be a little that way with folks, no matter how poor they get."
-
-Before his words were ended Madeline had slipped from his arms; looking
-up, David could just see her disappearing as she hurried up the stairs.
-Half in sorrow, half in jubilance, he was still holding communion with
-his thoughts when she returned, the dancing sunbeams falling athwart her
-face as she resumed the place she had deserted.
-
-"I've got something to tell you, father," she began excitedly, drawing a
-tiny paper book from its envelope. "It's just a little surprise--but I'm
-so glad I'm able to do it. No, father, you mustn't refuse," she
-protested as she saw him beginning to speak, his eyes remarking what she
-held in her hand. "I saved this all myself, father; I began over two
-years ago--it's nearly three hundred dollars," she declared jubilantly
-after a fitting pause, "and I was going to get something with
-it--something special, something wonderful--it doesn't matter now what
-it was--besides, I wanted you to see how saving I could be. But now I
-want you to take it all, father," the eager face, so unfamiliar with
-financial magnitudes, radiant with loving expectation, "and pay those
-awful creditors. Won't that help, father?--won't it help?" she cried
-again, not knowing what to make of the expression on her father's face.
-
-David Borland's hands shook as he took the little pass-book. His head
-was bowed over it and the silence lasted till a hot blur fell upon it, a
-message from afar.
-
-"Yes," he murmured huskily. "Yes, thank God, it helps; more than any
-man can tell till he's got a broken heart like mine," he said
-passionately, the long stifled tide of grief and care bursting forth at
-last. "It more than helps--it heals," he murmured iow again, holding
-the pass-book close over his brimming eyes. "Who's that?" he suddenly
-digressed sharply, the deathlike stillness broken by a knock at the
-door. "Who's got to go an' come now of all times?" as he released the
-wondering girl, already moving forward to answer the summons.
-
-"Come in, come in," David heard her cry delightedly a moment later, his
-own face brightening as he recognized the voice. Instinctively he rose
-as if to rush across the room and bid welcome to the visitor; yet
-something seemed to check the impulse as he sank back in his chair, an
-expression of deepening pain on the tired face. But the resolve formed
-strong within him again and the voice rang like a trumpet.
-
-"Come in, Mr. Nickle," it cried, echoing Madeline's, "come in, an'
-welcome. I see by your face you know it all--an' I knew you wouldn't be
-long o' comin'. Sit down--here, alongside o' me."
-
-A man shall be as a refuge from the storm; so runs the ancient message
-that has shed its music on multitudes of troubled hearts. And how
-wonderfully true! How mysterious the shelter that one life affords
-another, if only that life be strong and true; gifted it need not be,
-nor cultured, nor nimble with tender words nor skilled in caressing
-ways--for these are separate powers and sparingly distributed. But let
-the life be true, simple and sincere and brave, and its very existence
-is a hiding-place; no word may be spoken, or aim achieved, or device
-employed, but yet the very being of a strong and earnest man remains the
-noblest pavilion for the defeated and the sad.
-
-How oftentimes the peace of surrender is deepened by an experience of
-friendship such as comes only to the vanquished! And friendship's
-sweetest voice is heard by the despairing heart. Thus it was with David
-Borland as his friend sat beside him, so grave and tender, his very look
-betokening that he knew all about the long, bitter conflict, as he
-obviously knew the disaster that had marked its close. He sat long in
-comparative silence, only a word at intervals to show that he was
-following David's story.
-
-"An' I feel worse over that than all the rest," David said at length,
-"to think you lost by me. But I'll see yet that no man will lose a cent
-by me, if I'm spared long enough--there's a heap o' work in these old
-bones yet," he went on bravely, "if only----"
-
-"And what about me, father?--what about me?" Madeline broke in, drawing
-near with half outstretched hands; "I'm going to work too--there isn't
-any one in this house as strong as I am," she affirmed, her glowing face
-and flashing eyes indicating the sincerity of her words.
-
-David Borland almost groaned as he took the extended hands. "Oh, child,
-they're so soft, they're so soft and tender. And you'll never do a
-day's work while your old dad can work for you," he said tenderly,
-gazing into the deep passion of her eyes.
-
-"Won't I though? I'll show you, father," she cried in sweet defiance.
-"Do you think I'm nothing but an ornament, a useless ornament?" she
-asked reproachfully. "Why can't a woman bear her part in the battle
-just as well as men?--I'm going to do it, anyhow. I know how to do lots
-of things; I can teach, or sew, or do woodwork--or I can learn
-stenography--it doesn't matter which; only we'll fight it out together,
-father, you and me--and mother," she added dutifully.
-
-David's eyes were swimming with loving admiration. Once or twice he
-tried to utter what he felt, but the words seemed to choke before they
-reached his lips. Finally he found the very ones he wanted. "Madeline,
-you're a thoroughbred," was all he said; but the girl knew the greatness
-of the eulogy.
-
-David turned again to his visitor. "Please don't think I'm buttin' in
-where I've no business--but I can't keep from wonderin' if--if--if this
-has took everythin'," he said in much embarrassment. "That's been kind
-of hauntin' me for months."
-
-The old man smiled. "I dinna feel it maitters muckle aboot mysel'," he
-answered slowly. "I'll hae what I'll be needin' till I gang till my
-rest, I'm thinkin'," he went on quietly; "an' ony way, I gaed intill't
-wi' my eyes open--but I thocht it was for the best. There's juist ae
-maitter that's giein' me mair trouble than anither."
-
-"What's that?" David asked abruptly; "I'll bet all I haven't got it's
-not yourself."
-
-"Weel, ye're richt--it's no mysel'," Geordie answered; "I could thole it
-better if it was. It's the laddie--it's Harvey, ye ken. You an' me'll
-no' be able to help him ony mair--an' the laddie was daein' fine at the
-college; an' I'm dootin' it'll be a sair blow on his puir mither to tak'
-him awa. Does she ken?" he asked, slowly raising his head towards
-David.
-
-"I don't think so," said his friend; "but I suppose she'll have to be
-told sooner or later."
-
-"Hoo lang will it be till the laddie's through?"
-
-"He gets his degree the next graduating class," volunteered Madeline,
-her face showing the keenness of her interest. "It's not so very, very
-long," she added wistfully, looking as unconcerned as possible.
-
-Then the old man began in the quietest and most natural way to tell
-David and Madeline all about his circumstances, the simple story touched
-with the pathos of an utterly unselfish heart. For his chief concern
-was evidently not for himself at all--he would have enough with strict
-economy to keep a roof still above his head--but his grief for Harvey's
-interrupted career was sincere and deep. He recognized fully, and
-admitted frankly, that it would take what little was left him to supply
-the humblest necessities of his remaining years. But this seemed to
-give him little or no disquietude; his thoughts were divided between
-Harvey and his mother, and he seemed troubled as to how the latter
-should be apprised of the cloud that had brought this additional
-darkness to her life.
-
-"She'll no' learn it frae the lips o' gossip, if I can help it," he said
-resolutely at last, his staff coming down with emphasis on the floor.
-
-"Go easy on that Turkey rug, Mr. Nickle," David interrupted with
-valorous merriment; "it belongs to my creditors now, you know."
-
-Geordie permitted himself to abandon his line of thought long enough to
-say: "Ye dinna mean to tell me, David, that ye'll hae to part wi' a' yir
-bonnie bit things aboot the hoose?"
-
-David never flinched as he looked straight into the sober eyes.
-
-"All that's of any value," he answered resolutely; "no stolen plumage
-for me--I've no desire for it, thank God," he added cheerily. "I don't
-want nothin' but a few little necessaries--an' a couple o' luxuries,
-such as this here," drawing Madeline within his arm as he spoke; "it's
-great how the law can't get at a fellow's real treasures. Just what I
-was sayin' to you a few minutes ago, Madeline--the things that counts
-the most is the things that's left, no matter how poor a fellow gets."
-
-Geordie's eyes were shining with delight; such philosophy as this
-touched the inmost heart of him.
-
-"Ye're richt, David, ye're richt," he cried fervently. "Man, but it's
-bonnie to see ye takin' the chastenin' o' th' Almichty like ye dae. I
-was sair feart for ye, when I found oot what was gaein' to happen. But
-ye've got the richt o't, David, ye've got the richt o't," the old man
-went on earnestly; "it's a sair loss, nae doot--but it canna rob ye o'
-what ye love the most. An' I'll tell ye anither thing, David," he
-pursued, his voice the prophet voice, "it canna rob ye o' the providence
-o' God--it canna change the purpose o' His will for ye," and Geordie's
-outstretched hand, not often or lightly so extended, took David's in its
-own. "But aboot Harvey's mither," he suddenly resumed, recalling the
-thread that had been broken; "she'll no' hear what's happened frae the
-lips o' gossip. I'll tell her mysel'," he affirmed, the resolution
-forming swiftly; "an' I'll dae it when I'm gaein' hame frae here,"
-proceeding forthwith to button up his coat preparatory to departure.
-
-"I'll go with you," David said quietly. "There's no reason why I
-shouldn't. I've a lot to regret, but nothin' to be ashamed of--nothin'
-to be ashamed of, as I said afore. Where's your mother, Madeline?--I
-want to see her afore I go."
-
-"She's up-stairs," Madeline answered in rather a subdued tone. "I think
-she's looking over some things."
-
-David sighed as he rose and turned towards the stair. Reaching the room
-above, he found his wife gazing upon the rich contents of several
-receptacles whose treasures were outturned upon the floor. He sat down
-beside her on the bed, making rather a plaintive attempt to comfort the
-heart whose sorrow he knew was different from his own.
-
-"I'm going to keep everything of Madeline's I can," she said, after some
-preliminary conversation. "Poor child, she was looking forward so to
-her coming-out party--but I guess that's all a thing of the past now,"
-she sighed. "And everybody said you were going to be elected the town's
-first mayor, too. I was counting so much on that--but of course they
-won't do it now. But do you know, David, there's one bit of consolation
-left to us--and that's about Madeline. I think, I think, David, she'll
-be provided for, all right, before very long," smiling significantly as
-she made the prediction.
-
-"How?" David asked, quite dumfoundered, yet not without a kind of chill
-sensation in the region of his heart.
-
-"Oh, the old way," responded his wife; "the old, old way, David. I've
-seen signs of it, I think--at least I've seen signs that some one else
-wouldn't mind taking care of her, some one that would be able to give
-her quite as much as we ever did," she concluded, a note of decided
-optimism in the voice.
-
-David sat up straight and gasped. "Surely," he began in a hoarse voice,
-"surely you ain't talkin' about--about matrimony, are you, mother?"
-
-Madeline's mother smiled assentingly. "That's the old, old way,
-David--I guess that's what it'll end in, if things go on all right.
-Don't look so stormy, David--I should think you'd be glad."
-
-"Glad!" cried David, his voice rising like a wind. "Good Lord,
-glad--glad, if a fellow's goin' to lose everything an' then be left
-alone," he half wailed; "you expect a fellow to be glad if he gets news
-that he might have to part with the dearest thing he's got?" he went on
-boisterously. "But I'm makin' a goat o' myself," chastening his tone as
-he continued; "there ain't no such thing goin' to happen. Who in
-thunder do you imagine wants our Madeline?--I'd like to see the cuss
-that'd----"
-
-"But, David," his wife interrupted rather eagerly, "wait till I tell you
-who it is--or perhaps you know--it's Cecil; and I'm quite sure he'd be
-ever so attentive, if Madeline would only permit it. And I don't
-suppose any young gentleman of our acquaintance has the prospects Cecil
-has."
-
-David's face wore a strange expression; half of pity it seemed to be and
-half of fiery wrath. "That's so, mother," he said in quite a changed
-voice; "if all reports is true there ain't many with prospects like
-his--he'll get what's comin' to him, I reckon. But there's one thing I'm
-goin' to tell you, mother," and the woman started at the changed tone of
-the words, so significant in its sternness, "an' I'll jest tell it to
-you now--an' it's this. Mebbe we'll have to beg our bread afore we're
-through--but Cecil ain't never goin' to have our Madeline--not if me an'
-God can help it," whereat he turned and went almost noiselessly from the
-room, his white lips locked in silence. And Madeline wondered why his
-eyes rested so yearningly on her when he returned, filled with such
-hungering tenderness as though he were to see her never more.
-
-
-
-
- *XXIII*
-
- _*INGENUITY OF LOVE*_
-
-
-Neither Geordie nor David spoke a word as they went down the steps and
-passed slowly along the avenue that led from the gate to the house. But
-just as they opened the gate David turned and took a long wistful survey
-of the scene behind.
-
-"It'll be quite a twist to leave it all," he said, trying to smile.
-"I've got so kind o' used to it--there's a terrible pile o' difference
-between _bein'_ poor an' _gettin'_ poor," he added reflectively.
-
-"But ye'd hae to gang awa an' leave it, suner or later," Geordie
-suggested; "it comes to us a'--an' it's only a wee bit earlier at the
-maist."
-
-"That's dead true," assented David; "sometimes I think th' Almighty
-sends things like this to get us broke in for the other--a kind of
-rehearsal for eternity," he concluded, quite solemnly for him. "Look
-there, Mr. Nickle," he suddenly digressed, pointing towards the house,
-"d'ye see that upper left-hand window, with the light shinin' on it, an'
-the curtain blowin' out?--well, that's where Madeline was born. It's
-kind o' hard," he said, so softly that Geordie scarcely heard.
-
-"But ye hae the lassie wi' ye yet--the licht's aye shinin' frae her
-bonnie face," Geordie replied consolingly.
-
-"Poor child, she's had to scrape up most o' the sunshine for our home
-herself this last while," responded David, "but it ain't goin' to be
-that way after this--when things is dark, that's the time for faces to
-be bright, ain't it?--even if a fellow does lose all he's got. Do you
-know, Mr. Nickle," he went on very earnestly, "I've a kind of a feelin'
-a man should be ashamed of himself, if all his money's done for him is
-to make him miserable when it's gone. I mean this," turning and smiling
-curiously towards Geordie, "if a fellow's had lots o' money, an' all the
-elegant things it gets him, it ought to kind o' fit him for doin'
-without it. I don't believe you catch my meanin'--but money, an'
-advantages, ought to do that much for the man that's had 'em, to learn
-him how to do without 'em if he has to--it ought to dig wells in him
-somewhere that won't dry up when his money takes the wings o' the
-mornin' an' flies away, as the Scriptur' says."
-
-"Yon's graun' doctrine, David," Geordie assented eagerly; "forbye,
-there's' anither thing it ought to dae for a man--it should let him ken
-hoo easy thae man-made streams dry up, an' what sair things they are to
-minister till the soul. An' they should make him seek the livin' water,
-so he'll thirst nae mair forever. I seem to ken that better mysel' than
-I've ever done afore."
-
-"Mebbe that's part o' the plan," David made reply; "'cause how a fellow
-takes a thing like this here that's happened me, depends 'most
-altogether on jest one thing--an' I'll tell you what it is--whether he
-takes it good or bad depends on whether he believes there's any plan in
-the business at all. I mean some One else's plan, of course. There's a
-terrible heap o' comfort in jest believin' there's a plan. When things
-was all fine sailin' with me, I always held to the plan idea--always
-kep' pratin' about the web a higher hand was weavin' for us all--an' I
-ain't agoin' to go back on it now," he added with unwonted vehemence.
-"No, sir, I never believed more in God's weavin' than I do this minute.
-'Tain't jest the way I'd like it wove--but then we don't see only the
-one side," he added resignedly. "D'ye know, Mr. Nickle, we're terrible
-queer critters, ain't we? It really is one of the comicalest things
-about us, that we don't believe th' Almighty's plan for us is as good as
-our own plan for ourselves. Funny too, ain't it, now?" he pursued, "an'
-the amusin' part o' the whole business is this, how the folks that's
-most religious often kicks the hardest when they ain't allowed to do
-their share o' the weavin'," he concluded, looking earnestly into his
-friend's face.
-
-Geordie's reply found expression more by his eyes than by word of mouth.
-But both were interrupted by their journey's end, for by this time they
-had arrived at the little store. Entering and enquiring for Mrs.
-Simmons, they were conducted by Jessie into the unpretentious
-sitting-room where Harvey's mother was seated in the solitary armchair
-that adorned the room, her hands busy with the knitting that gave
-employment to the passing hours.
-
-Grave and kindly were the salutations of her visitors, equally sincere
-and dignified the greetings in return. After some irrelevant
-conversation, David introduced the purpose of their visit with the tact
-that never fails a kindly heart, bidding his friend tell the rest; and
-the half-knitted stocking fell idle on her lap as the silent listener
-composed herself bravely to hear the tidings that something assured her
-would be far from welcome.
-
-Once or twice she checked a rising sigh, and once or twice she nervously
-resumed the knitting that had been given over; but no other sign bespoke
-the sorrow and disappointment that possessed her. If any wave of pain
-passed over the gentle face, it found no outlet in the sightless eyes.
-Geordie kept nothing back; the whole story of their present
-situation--and of their consequent helplessness to further aid her
-scholar son--was faithfully rehearsed. And the very tone of his voice
-bore witness to the sincerity of his statement that the whole calamity
-had no more painful feature than the one it was their mission now to
-tell.
-
-"I'm content," she said quietly when Mr. Nickle had concluded. "I'll
-not deny that the hope of--of what's evidently not to be--has made the
-days bright for me ever since Harvey went away," she went on, as if her
-life had never known darkness; "but he's had a good start, and he can
-never lose what he's got already--and maybe the way'll be opened up yet;
-it's never been quite closed on us," she added reverently, "though it
-often looked dark enough. The promise to the poor and the needy never
-seems to fail. And I'm sure Harvey'll find something to do--and oh,"
-she broke in more eagerly than before, "I know the very first thing he'd
-want me to do is to thank you both for your great kindness, your
-wonderful kindness to us all," she concluded, both hands going out in
-the darkness to hold for a moment the hands of her benefactors.
-
-The conversation was not much longer continued, both Geordie and David
-retreating before the brave and trustful resignation as they never would
-have done before lamentation or repining. And after they had gone
-Jessie and her mother sat long together in earnest consultation; for the
-one was as resolved as the other that something must be done to avert
-the impending disaster.
-
-"Just to think, mother, he'd be a B.A. if he could only finish with his
-class," said Jessie; "and then, then he could be nearly any thing he
-liked, after that. If only business were a little better in the shop,"
-she sighed.
-
-"But it's losing, Jessie," the mother replied, forcing the candid
-declaration. "I can tell that myself--often I count how many times the
-bell above the door rings in a day; and it's growing less, I've noticed
-that for a year now. It's all because Glenallen's growing so fast,
-too--that's the worst of it; what helps others seems to hurt us."
-
-Jessie understood, the anomaly having been often discussed before; it
-had been discussed, too, in the more pretentious shops, though in a far
-different frame of mind. "We've got along so well this far--we've got
-almost used to doing without things," she said with a plaintive smile,
-"and it seems such a pity to have to stop when the goal's in sight."
-
-"If I were only stronger," mused the mother; "but I'm not," she added
-quietly, the pale face turning towards Jessie's--"your mother's not
-gaining any; you can see that, can't you, dear?"
-
-Jessie's protest was swift and passionate. "You mustn't talk that way,"
-she cried appealingly; "you've spoken like that once or twice--and I
-won't hear of it," the voice quivering in its intensity. "You're going
-to get well--I'm almost sure you will. And there's nothing more I'd let
-you do," her eyes glowing with the ardour of her purpose, "if you were
-as well and strong as ever in your life."
-
-Mrs. Simmons smiled, but the smile was full of sadness.
-
-"Have it as you will, my child," she said, "but there's no use shutting
-our eyes to the truth--it's for your own sake I spoke of it, Jessie.
-When you write to Harvey, do you tell him I'm gaining, dear?" a smile on
-the patient face.
-
-Jessie was silent a moment. "Don't, mother don't," she pleaded. "Let's
-talk about what we'll do for Harvey. Oh, mother," the arms going about
-the fragile form in a passion of devotion, "it seems as if your troubles
-would never end; it's been one long round of care and struggle and pain
-for you ever since I can remember. And this last seems the worst, for I
-know how you've lived for Harvey. And it shan't all be for nothing;
-we'll get through with it somehow--I know we will."
-
-"You shouldn't pity me so, my daughter," and the mother's voice was as
-calm as the untroubled face. "I really don't think you know how much
-happiness I've had; I often feel there's nothing so close to joy as
-sorrow. And you and Harvey have been so good--and I'm so proud of him.
-The way's always been opened up for us; and God has strengthened me, and
-comforted me, beyond what I ever thought was possible. And besides,
-dear," the voice low and thrilling with the words that were to come,
-"besides, Jessie, I've had a wonderful feeling lately that it's getting
-near the light--it's like a long tunnel, but I've caught glimpses of
-beauty sometimes that tell me the long darkness is nearly over. Oh, my
-darling," she went on in the same thrilling voice, holding her close in
-a kind of rapture, "I never was so sure before--not even when I could
-see all around--never so sure--that it's all light after all, and my
-very darkness has been the light of God. I don't know why I should cry
-like this," she sobbed, for the tears were now falling fast, "for I'm
-really happy--even with all this new trouble; but for days and days
-lately I've kept saying to myself: 'They need no candle, neither light
-of the sun'--and I can't think of it without crying, because I know it's
-true."
-
-Very skillfully did Jessie endeavour to turn the conversation into other
-channels; her own sinking heart told her too well that her inmost
-thought was not far different from her mother's. For the dear face was
-daily growing more pale and thin, and the springs of vitality seemed to
-be slowly ebbing. But on this she would not permit her mind to dwell.
-
-"Don't you think we could get some bright girl to mind the shop, mother;
-some young girl, you know, that wouldn't cost very much? Because I've
-just been thinking--I've got a kind of a plan--I've been wondering if I
-couldn't make enough to help Harvey through. You know, mother, I can
-sew pretty well--Miss Adair told me only yesterday I managed quite as
-well as the girls with a regular training, and she just as much as
-offered me work. And I'll see her about it this very day; we could get
-some one to mind the shop for a great deal less than I could make--and
-Harvey could have the rest. You wouldn't object, would you, mother? I
-wouldn't go out to sew; some of the girls take the work home with them,
-and so could I. Or, if I was doing piece-work, I might be able to mind
-the store myself at the same time--there seems to be so little to do
-now," she added, looking a little ruefully towards the silent shop.
-
-The expression of pain deepened on the mother's face as she listened.
-Yet she did not demur, although the inner vision brought the tired
-features of the unselfish girl before her. "It seems hard," she said at
-length; "I was always hoping you'd soon have it a little easier--but
-this will only make it harder for you."
-
-"But not for long," Jessie interrupted cheerily; "just till Harvey's
-through--and then he'll be able to make lots of money. And maybe you
-and I'll be able to go away somewhere for a little rest," she added
-hopefully, her eyes resting long on the pallid face.
-
-"Harvey must never know," the mother suddenly affirmed; "we'll have to
-keep it from him, whatever happens, for I know he wouldn't consent to it
-for a moment. Where are you going, Jessie?" for she knew, her sense of
-every movement quickened by long exercise, that the girl was making
-preparations to go out.
-
-"I'm going to see Miss Adair, mother. I won't be long--but now that my
-mind's set on it, I can't rest till I find out. If I can only get that
-arranged, it'll make it so much brighter for us all."
-
-The mother sat alone with many conflicting thoughts, marvelling at all
-that so enriched her life, dark though it was, and bearing about with it
-a burden that no heart could share.
-
-Jessie's errand was successful, as such errands are prone to be; and
-only those who understand life's hidden streams could have interpreted
-the radiance on the maiden's face as she returned to announce her
-indenture unto toil, new gladness springing from new sacrifice, for such
-is the mysterious source whose waters God hath bidden to be blessed.
-
-
-David was absorbed in a very sober study as he walked slowly homeward.
-Not that he shrank from the personal sacrifice that his present
-circumstances were about to demand, or that any sense of dishonour
-clouded his thought of the business career that seemed about to
-close--from this he was absolutely free. But he was feeling, and for the
-first time, how keen the sting of defeat can be to a man whose long and
-valiant struggle against relentless odds has at last proved unavailing.
-
-Still reflecting on this and many other things, he suddenly heard
-himself accosted by a familiar voice; turning round, he saw Mr. Craig
-hurrying towards him.
-
-"Going home, Borland?" said the former as he came up with him; "I'll
-just walk along with you if you are--I want to talk to you."
-
-David's mind lost no time in its calculation as to what the subject of
-this conversation would likely be; during all his period of struggle,
-well known and widely discussed as it had been, Mr. Craig had never
-approached him before. David felt an unconscious stiffening of the lip,
-he scarce knew why.
-
-"I wanted to tell you, Borland, for one thing," Mr. Craig began as they
-walked along, "how much I feel for you in the hard luck you're having."
-
-"Thank you kindly," said David promptly.
-
-"I don't suppose I'm just able to sympathize as well as lots of men
-could," Mr. Craig observed; "unbroken success doesn't fit one for that
-sort of thing."
-
-"Oh!" said David, volumes in the tone.
-
-"Well," said the other, not by any means oblivious to the intonation, "I
-suppose it does sound kind of egotistical--but I guess it's true just
-the same. I suppose I'm what might be called a successful man."
-
-"I reckon you might be _called_ that, all right," said David, getting
-out his knife and glancing critically at a willow just ahead. The
-spirit of whittling invariably arose within him when his emotions were
-aroused.
-
-"What do you mean?" Mr. Craig enquired, a little ardently. He had
-noticed David's emphasis on one particular word.
-
-"I don't mean nothin'," responded David, making a willow branch his own.
-
-"You seem to doubt a little whether I've really been successful or not?"
-ventured the other, looking interrogatively at his companion.
-
-"Depends," said David laconically; "you've been terrible successful
-outside."
-
-"I don't just follow you," Mr. Craig declared with deliberate calmness.
-"I don't suppose we judge people by the inside of them--at least I
-don't."
-
-"I do," answered David nonchalantly. "A fellow can't help it--look at
-this here gad; it looked elegant from the outside," holding it up to
-show the wound his knife had made.
-
-"What's the matter with it?" Mr. Craig rejoined, pretending to look
-closely.
-
-"It's rotten," said David.
-
-"What do you mean by that?" Mr. Craig demanded rather more sharply.
-
-"I don't mean nothin'," responded David.
-
-"Then it hasn't anything to do with the question of success?"
-
-"That's an awful big question," David answered adroitly, "an' folks'll
-get a terrible jolt in their opinions about it some day, I reckon--like
-the rich fool got; an' he thought he was some pun'kins, too. Nobody
-can't tell jest who's a success," he went on, peeling the willow as he
-spoke. "I reckon folks calls me the holiest failure in these parts--but
-I'm a terrible success some ways," he went on calmly.
-
-"What ways?" Mr. Craig enquired rather too quickly for courtesy.
-
-"Oh, nothin' much--only under the bark--if it's anywheres," David jerked
-out, still vigorously employed on the willow. "But there ain't no good
-of pursuin' them kind of thoughts," he suddenly digressed, making a
-final slash at the now denuded branch; "they're too high-class for a
-fellow that never went to school after he left it--let's talk about
-somethin' worldly. They say you're goin' to be Glenallen's first mayor;
-goin' to open the ball--ain't that so?"
-
-Abating his pace, Mr. Craig drew closer to David, a pleased expression
-displacing the rather decided frown that had been gathering.
-
-"To tell the truth, now that you've mentioned it," he began
-confidentially, "that's the very thing I wanted to talk about. Of
-course, there's no use in my pretending I don't want the office, for I
-do--the whole thing is in being the _first_ mayor, you see, after
-Glenallen's incorporated. Kind of an historical event, you
-understand--and, and there seems to be a little misunderstanding," he
-went on a trifle hesitatingly, "between you and me. I find there's a
-tendency to--to elect you--that is, in some quarters," he explained,
-"and I thought we might come to a kind of an agreement, you understand."
-
-"What kind?" David asked innocently.
-
-"Oh, well, you understand. Of course, I know you wouldn't care for the
-office--not at present, at least. I've felt perfectly free to say as
-much whenever the matter was mentioned to me."
-
-"You're terrible cheerful about resignin' for other people," rejoined
-David with some spirit; "some folks is terrible handy at makin' free
-with other folks' affairs."
-
-"Oh, well, you know what I mean--you've got your hands full----"
-
-"They're not terrible full," David corrected dismally.
-
-"And besides, you see," Mr. Craig went bravely on, "you're not British
-born--you were born in Ohio, weren't you?"
-
-"Not much," David informed him; "there's no Buckeye about me--I was born
-in Abe Lincoln's State. Peoria's where I dawned--and he often used to
-stop at my father's house when he was attendin' court." David was
-evidently ready to be delivered of much further information, but the
-candidate had no mind to hear it.
-
-"Well, anyhow," he interrupted, "I think it'd be more fitting that the
-first mayor should have been born under the British flag. But you don't
-mean to say you think you'll stand?" he suddenly enquired, evidently
-determined to ascertain the facts without further parley.
-
-"Couldn't jest say," David replied with rather provoking deliberation;
-"you see, I'll have a good deal o' time lyin' round loose, now that I'm
-givin' up business for my health," this with a mournful grin. "So mebbe
-I'll be in the hands o' my friends--that there expression's one I made
-up myself," he added, turning a broad smile upon his friend's very sober
-face. Mr. Craig, to tell the exact truth, grew quite pale as he heard
-the ominous words. For his heart had been sorely set on the immortality
-the first mayorship of Glenallen would confer, and he knew how doubtful
-would be the issue of a contest between David and himself.
-
-"I was thinking," he began a little excitedly, "perhaps we could make
-some arrangement that would be--would be to our mutual advantage," he
-blurted out at last; "perhaps--perhaps I could give you a little lift; I
-could hardly expect you to withdraw for nothing. And now that you're in
-financial difficulties, so to speak, I thought perhaps a little quiet
-assistance mightn't go amiss."
-
-But David had come to a dead standstill, his eyes flashing as they
-fastened themselves on the other's face. "D'ye mean to say you're
-tryin' to bribe me?" he demanded, his voice husky.
-
-"Oh, no, Mr. Borland--oh, no, I only meant we might find common ground
-if----"
-
-"Common ground! Common scoundrelism!" David broke in vehemently; "you
-must think I'm devilish poor, Mr. Craig," his voice rising with his
-emotion, "an' it appears to me a man has to be sunk mighty low afore he
-could propose what you've done. I've bore a heap, God knows--but no man
-never dared insult me like this afore; if that's one o' the things
-you've got to do if you're pure British stock, then I thank the Lord I'm
-a mongrel."
-
-"Be calm, Mr. Borland," implored his friend suavely, "you don't
-understand."
-
-"I understand all right," shouted David; "a man don't need much breedin'
-of any kind to understand the likes o' you--you want a man that's lost
-all he's got, to sell himself into the bargain," the withered cheek
-burning hot as David made his arraignment.
-
-"Now, Mr. Borland, do be reasonable--I mean nothing of the sort. I only
-wanted to give you a helping hand--of course, if you can do without
-it----"
-
-"Yes, thank God," and David's voice was quite shaky, "I can do without
-it all right. I can do without your dirty money---an' everybody else's
-for that matter--but I can't do without a conscience that ain't got no
-blot on it, an' I can't do without a clean name like my father left it
-to me," he went hotly on, his flushed face and swift-swallowing throat
-attesting how deeply he felt what he was saying.
-
-"Oh, come now, Borland," Mr. Craig urged, reaching out a hand towards
-his shoulder, "come off your high horse--preachin' isn't your strong
-point, you know."
-
-"I ain't preachin'," David retorted vigorously. "I'm practisin'--an'
-that's a horse of a different colour," he added, casting about to recall
-the amiability that had almost vanished.
-
-"There's no need for any trouble between us, Borland," Mr. Craig began
-blandly; "'twouldn't be seemly, considering all that's liable to
-happen--if things go on as they're likely to," he added significantly.
-"We'll need to be on the best of terms if we're going to be relations,
-you know."
-
-"What's that you're sayin'?--relations, did you say?" David was quite
-at a loss to understand, and yet a dim fear, suggested not so long
-before, passed for a moment through his mind.
-
-"Yes, relations," returned Mr. Craig, smiling amiably; "these young
-folks have a way of making people relations without consulting them--at
-least, till they've gone and settled it themselves. I guess you
-understand all right."
-
-A hot flush flowed over David's cheek. "Do you--do you mean my
-Madeline?" he stammered, staring like one who did not see.
-
-"Well, maybe--but I mean my Cecil just as much. All this won't make any
-difference to Cecil."
-
-"What won't?" David groped, the words coming as if unguided, his
-thoughts gone on another mission.
-
-"Oh, these little difficulties of yours--all this financial tangle, I
-mean; your failure, as they call it round town. That'll never budge
-Cecil."
-
-The men were still standing, neither thinking of direction or of
-progress. But David moved close up to the other, his eyes fixed on the
-shrewd face with relentless sternness.
-
-"It don't need to make no difference," he said through set teeth.
-"There ain't nothin' to get different--if you mean your son, Craig--or
-if you mean my daughter, Craig," the words prancing out like a
-succession of mettled steeds; "either you or him's the biggest fool God
-ever let loose. There ain't no human power, nor no other kind, can jine
-them two together. Perhaps I'll have to go beggin'--but I'll take
-Madeline along with me afore she'll ever go down the pike with any one
-like your Cecil, as you call him." David paused for breath.
-
-"She'd be mighty lucky if she got him," Cecil's father retorted
-haughtily. "One would think you were the richest man in the county to
-hear you talk."
-
-David's face was closer than ever. "Craig," he said, his voice low and
-taut, "there's mebbe some that's good enough for Madeline--I ain't
-a-sayin'--but th' Almighty never made no man yet that my daughter'd be
-lucky if she got. An' I know I'm poor; an' I know I've got to take to
-the tall timbers out o' there--where she was born," the words coming
-with a little gulp as he pointed in the direction of his home, "but I'm
-a richer man, Craig, than you ever knew how to be. An' you can go back
-to your big house, an' I'm goin' to hunt a little one for us--but I
-wouldn't trade you if every pebble on your carriage drive was gold. An'
-I'm happier'n you ever knew how to be. An' your Cecil can't never have
-our Madeline. An' when it comes to budgin', like you was talkin' about,
-I reckon I can do my share of not budgin', Craig--an' you can put that
-in your pipe an' smoke it."
-
-David started to move on; he was panting just a little. But Mr. Craig
-stopped him; and the sneer in his words was quite noticeable:
-
-"I suppose you'll be giving her to your charity student--she'll be head
-clerk in the Simmons' store yet, I shouldn't wonder."
-
-David was not difficult to detain. He stared hard for a moment before
-speaking. "Mebbe they're poor," he said at length, "an' mebbe his blind
-mother has to skimp an' save--that settles any one for you all right.
-But it wouldn't take me no longer to decide between that there charity
-student an' your son, than it would to decide--to decide between you an'
-God," he concluded hotly, turning and starting resolutely on his way.
-"Now you know my ideas about success," he flung over his shoulder as he
-pressed on; "you're a success, you know, a terrible success--I'm a
-failure, thank heaven," his face set steadfastly towards home, bright
-with the hallowed light that, thought of his treasure there kept burning
-through all life's storm and darkness.
-
-But Mr. Craig fired the last shot. "I wish you luck with the coming-out
-party," he called after him mockingly; "be sure and have it worthy of
-the young lady--and of her father's fortune," he added, the tone
-indicating what satisfaction the thrust afforded him.
-
-David answered never a word. But the taunt set him pondering,
-nevertheless; once or twice he stopped almost still, though his pace was
-brisk, and something in his face reflected the purpose forming within
-him. When he reached his home he found Madeline and her mother
-together; they were still employed with the sombre task of selecting
-what should be the survivors among their domestic treasures.
-
-"How did Mrs. Simmons take it?" Madeline asked almost impatiently, as he
-drew her down in the chair beside him.
-
-"She took it like as if she believed in God," David answered solemnly;
-"an' she took it that way 'cause she does--that's more," he added
-emphatically. "But I've got somethin' to say--somethin' important."
-
-Both waited eagerly to hear. "Tell me quick," said Madeline.
-
-"Well, it's this. I don't want nothin' touched here--not till after
-what I'm goin' to tell you. We'll have to waltz out o' here, of
-course," he said, looking gravely around the room; "but it'll be some
-considerable time yet--an' as long as we're here, we'll be here, see?
-An' we're goin' to have your comin'-out party, Madeline--we're goin' to
-have it the last night. So it'll be a comin'-out party, an' a goin'-out
-one, at the same time--ain't that an elegant idea? An' it'll be a
-dandy, too--there'll be high jinks till nobody can't see anybody else
-for dust. An' we're goin' to have things jest like they are now--no use
-o' kickin' down your scaffold till you're through with it," he
-concluded, chucking Madeline under the chin in his jubilation.
-
-Madeline and her mother gasped a little as they exchanged glances. Mrs.
-Borland was the first to speak. "Don't you think it'll throw a gloom
-over everything, David, when everybody'll know what--what's going to
-happen?"
-
-"If anybody begins that kind o' throwin', I'll throw them out sideways,"
-David replied fiercely. "Most certainly it won't. Everybody'd always
-be slingin' gloom round, if that'd do it--'cause nobody ever knows
-what's goin' to happen any time. Leastways, nobody only One--an' He
-ain't never gloomy, for all He knows. Anyhow, nothin' ain't goin' to
-happen--'cept to the furniture," he added scornfully, glancing at the
-doomed articles that stood about.
-
-"One good thing," Madeline suggested radiantly, "there'll be nothing to
-hide--everybody'll know they're expected to be jolly."
-
-"Sure thing!" echoed David, utterly delighted. "I'm goin' to have that
-on the invitations--there ain't goin' to be no 'Answer P.D.Q.' on the
-left-hand corner; I'm goin' to have somethin' else--I'm goin' to have
-what that cove on the tavern sheds yelled through the megaphone: 'If you
-can't laugh don't come.' I often told you about him, didn't I?--well,
-that's the prescription's goin' to be on the admission tickets."
-
-Considerable further dialogue was terminated by a very serious question
-from the prospective dbutante. "Won't it look kind of strange, father?"
-she ventured rather timidly, "going to all that expense--just at this
-particular time?"
-
-David put his arms about her very tenderly, smiling down into the sober
-face. "There ain't goin' to be no champagne, Madeline," he said
-quietly, "nor no American beauties--there'll jest be one of heaven's
-choicest. It'll be an awful simple party--an' awful sweet. An' music
-don't cost nothin'; neither does love, nor friends, nor welcomes--the
-best things is the cheapest. An' I'll show them all one thing," he went
-on very gravely, his eyes filling as they were bended on his child, "one
-thing that ain't expensive--but awful dear," the words faltering as they
-left his lips.
-
-
-
-
- *XXIV*
-
- _*THE VICTOR'S SPOILS*_
-
-
-"Of course you ought to go. I've got a kind of feeling, though I don't
-know why, that the whole party will be spoiled if you're not there."
-
-"Spoiled! Spoiled for whom?"
-
-"Oh, for somebody--I guess you know all right."
-
-It was Miss Farringall who was pressing her advice so vigorously; Harvey
-the beneficiary. They were seated in the little room in which they had
-first met, everything in the same perfect order, the fire still singing
-its song of unconquerable cheer, the antique desk in the corner still
-guarding its hidden secrets. The domestic Grey, the added dignity of
-years upon him, had come to regard the one-time intruder with almost the
-same affection that he lavished on his mistress in his own devoted,
-purring way. He was slumbering now on Harvey's knee, and, could he have
-interpreted the significance of human glances, he might have seen the
-fondness with which the woman's eyes were often turned upon the manly
-face beside her.
-
-"If I thought Miss Borland really wanted me to come," mused Harvey.
-
-"Maybe Miss Borland doesn't care very much," his friend retorted
-quickly, "but I'm sure Madeline wants you," her eyebrows lifted
-reproachfully as she spoke.
-
-Harvey smiled in return. "Of course, it would give me a chance to see
-mother," he said reflectively; "and Jessie says she's very poorly.
-Perhaps I really ought to go--Jessie's quite anxious about her."
-
-"I think both reasons are good ones," Miss Farringall said after a
-little silence. "Do you know, Harvey," she went on, a shade almost of
-sadness coming over her face, "I feel more and more that there's only
-one thing in life worth gaining--and one should never trifle with it.
-If you lose that, you lose everything--no matter how much else you may
-have of money, or luxury--even of friends," she said decisively; "even
-of friends--if you miss that other."
-
-Harvey, slightly at a loss, fumbled about for something to say. "You
-have everything that money can provide, Miss Farringall--and that's a
-good deal," he added, magnifying the lonely asset as best he could.
-
-"Yes, perhaps I have--and maybe it is," she said as if to herself. Then
-neither spoke for a long interval. But finally Miss Farringall turned
-towards Harvey with a peculiar expression, as if she had just come to a
-decision after much inward debate.
-
-"Would you like to hear something I've never told any one else?" she
-said impressively--"not even to the rector. He has a second wife," she
-explained, smiling, "and they're always dangerous."
-
-"If you wish to trust me with it," was Harvey's answer.
-
-"Well, I will--and you'll tell me whether I did right or not. It's not
-a long story, and I'll tell it as directly as I can. It's about a
-man--a gentleman," she corrected. "No, I never loved him--doesn't this
-language sound strange from me?" as she noticed the surprise on Harvey's
-face. "But it was--it was different with him. He was a married man,
-too. And his wife was very rich--richer than he was. And she hated
-him--they lived in the same house, but that was all; a proud, selfish
-woman; so selfish, she was."
-
-Miss Farringall rose and moved to the window, gazing long on the leafy
-scene about her. The silence was broken suddenly by the butler's voice,
-his approach as noiseless as ever.
-
-"Please, Miss Farringall, the rector's here--he's in the hall. And he
-wants to know----"
-
-"Tell him he can't," Miss Farringall said softly, without turning her
-eyes from the window.
-
-"Yes, mum," as the impassive countenance vanished.
-
-Harvey did not speak, did not even look towards the silent figure at the
-window. He knew, and waited. Presently the woman turned and silently
-resumed her chair.
-
-"It was different with him, as I said," she slowly began again--"not
-that I ever encouraged him; it terrified me when I found it out. Well,
-one day when we were alone together, he--he forgot himself," a slight
-tremor of the gentle form and a deep flush upon the cheek betokening the
-vividness of the memory. "And I fled from him--and I vowed we should
-never meet again," the sad face lighting up with the echo of a far-off
-purpose. "And I kept the vow for years," she went on, gazing into the
-fire--for there it is that the dead years, embalmed of mystic forces,
-may be seen by sorrow-brightened eyes.
-
-Harvey waited again, silent still. And once again the strange narrative
-was resumed. "But I broke it at last," she said. "He was dying--a
-slow, painful disease. And he had everything money could give him; he
-had everything that anybody wants--except that one thing. His wife went
-on in her old, idle, fashionable way, caring nothing, of course. Well,
-one day he sent for me--it was his wife who brought the message; she
-knew nothing of what had happened, of course, and she told me of his
-request and asked me if I wouldn't come and sit with him sometimes. And
-I went--I went often--used to read to him; many different books at
-first, mostly poetry--but as it came nearer the end it was hardly ever
-anything but the Bible.... The end came at last. And just the day
-before he died he said to me: 'It'll be to-morrow--to-morrow about this
-time.' Then he took a big envelope from under his pillow, and he said:
-'This'll be good-bye; God bless you for what you've been to a dying man.
-And I want you to do this. I want you to come to my grave a year from
-the night of the day I'm buried--and open this envelope there--but not
-for a year.' And we said good-bye. Well, I couldn't refuse the request
-of a dying man--I did as he asked me. But I waited a year and four
-days, Harvey," and Miss Farringall's voice was quite triumphant; "I
-waited that long because I knew no man would believe a woman could do
-it.... And that's how I'm situated as I am, Harvey. I don't think
-anybody ever knew--I guess nobody cared; principally stocks, simply
-transferred. Do you think I did right, Harvey?" she asked after a
-pause.
-
-"Yes," said Harvey quickly, unable to take his eyes from her face.
-
-"Not that the envelope ever did me very much good," she went on. "I
-often think how much happier I'd have been if I'd been poor--and had had
-that other. But it wasn't to be. And all this never made me
-happy--there was only one could have done that; and he went out of my
-life long ago--long ago now," she said, her gaze scanning his face in
-wistful scrutiny, her heart busy with the photograph entombed in the
-silent desk before her.
-
-"So I think you certainly ought to go, as I said," she resumed, quietly
-reverting to the original topic. "I know the signs," she added in
-plaintive playfulness--"even if they do call me an old maid; I shouldn't
-wonder if they know the signs best of all. But this is all nonsense,"
-straightening herself resolutely in her chair, "and has nothing to do
-with what we're talking about. When is the party, Harvey?"
-
-"It's Friday night week--the very day after I graduate. And they leave
-the old home the next day--I told you all about Mr. Borland's failure.
-It seems they've been prepared to leave for some months--and now it's
-actually come. Mr. Borland gave up everything to his creditors, I
-believe. And this is a notion of his own--just like him, too--that
-they'll celebrate the last night in their old home this way; he's going
-to have Madeline's coming-out party for a finish. Quite an original
-idea, isn't it?"
-
-"Will that young fellow from your town be there?--Mr. Craig, you know?"
-asked Miss Farringall, without answering his question. She did not look
-at Harvey as she asked her own.
-
-"Oh, yes," Harvey answered, "he'll be there, of course--he's very
-attentive." Harvey's eyes were also turned away.
-
-"Who's he attentive to?"
-
-"Why, to Miss Borland--to Madeline, of course. He's been that for a long
-time."
-
-"Are you sure?"
-
-"Yes. At least, I suppose so. Why?" Harvey asked wonderingly.
-
-"Oh, nothing much--only I heard his affections were divided; another
-Glenallen girl, I heard."
-
-"What was the name?" asked Harvey, interestedly.
-
-"I did hear, I think--it doesn't matter. Please don't ask me any
-more--really, I'm ashamed of myself, I'm getting to be such a silly old
-gossip. Tell me, are you going to get the medal when you graduate?"
-
-The look on the face before her showed that the conversation had turned
-his thoughts towards something more absorbing than college premiums,
-covetable though they be; he too was coming to realize that life has
-only one great prize, and but one deep source of springing joy.
-
-"I have my doubts about the medal," Harvey answered after a pause; "I'm
-afraid of Echlin--but I'll give him a race for it. I think I'm sure of
-my degree, all right. That's another reason inclines me to go home next
-week," he added cheerfully; "I want to give my sheepskin to my mother;
-it's more hers and Jessie's than it is mine--and I want them to see my
-hood, too, when I get one; and the medal," his face brightening, "if I
-should have the luck to win it. But there's another thing that troubles
-me a little," he added with a dolorous smile, "and that is that I
-haven't got anything to wear, as the ladies say. I haven't a dress
-suit, you know--and I'm afraid anything else'll be a little conspicuous
-there."
-
-Miss Farringall smiled the sweetest, saddest smile, as she turned her
-face to Harvey's. "Oh, child," she said, "you're very young; and you're
-certainly very unfamiliar with the woman-heart. A girl doesn't care a
-fig for dress suits--I think they rather admire men who dress
-originally," she went on assuringly; "I know I did, then. And besides,
-it's all to your credit that you haven't one--I think that's one of the
-fine things about you, that you haven't got so many things you might
-have had, if you'd been a little more selfish," she said, almost fondly.
-
-"Talk about not being selfish," Harvey broke in ardently; "I'm a monster
-of selfishness compared to some others I could name--you ought to see my
-mother and my sister," he concluded proudly.
-
-"I hope I may some day," she answered. "But meantime--about what you'll
-wear. I'd wear the medal if I were you. But tell me first," she went
-on in a woman's own persistent way, "that you'll accept the invitation.
-Can't you make up your mind?"
-
-Harvey was silent for a moment. "No," came his answer decisively, "I
-don't think I will. I'm going to decline with thanks--self-denial's
-good for a fellow sometimes."
-
-"Some kinds of self-denial are sinful," said Miss Farringall quietly;
-"but they bring their own punishment--and it lasts for years." She
-sighed, and the light upon her face was half of yearning, half of love.
-
-
-"Is our Tam hame frae Edinburgh yet?" Such were the last wandering
-words of an aged brother of the great Carlyle, dying one summer night as
-the Canadian sun shed its glory for the last time upon his face. Thrice
-twenty years had flown since, fraternal pride high surging in his heart,
-he had clung to his mother's skirts while she waited at the bend of the
-road for the returning Tom. Carrying his shoes, lest they be needlessly
-worn, was that laddie wont to come from the halls of learning where he
-had scanned the page of knowledge with a burning heart--carrying his
-shoes, but with his laurels thick upon him, his advent the golden
-incident to that humble home in all their uneventful year. And in
-death's magic hour the thrilling scene was renacted as the brother
-heart of the far-wandered one roamed back to the halcyon days of
-boyhood.
-
-The same spirit of pride, the same devotion of love, brooded over the
-happy circle as Harvey sat this placid evening between his mother and
-sister in the home that had furnished him so little of luxury, so much
-of welcome and of love. He was home, and he was theirs. Trembling joy
-mingled with the mother's voice as now and then she broke in with kindly
-speech upon the story Harvey found himself telling again and again. The
-story was of his career in general, and of the last great struggle in
-particular; how he had shut himself up to his work in a final spasm of
-devotion, pausing only to eat and sleep till the final trials were over
-and the victory won. And the great day, his graduation day, was
-described over and over, both listeners in a transport of excitement
-while he told, modestly as he might, of the ovation that had greeted him
-when he was called forward to receive his hard-won honours.
-
-"And you're a B.A., Harvey, now--a real B.A., aren't you, Harvey?"
-Jessie cried ecstatically. "It seems almost too good to be true."
-
-Harvey merely smiled; but his mother spoke for him. "Of course he is,"
-she answered quietly; "it'll be on all his letters. But the medal,
-Harvey--oh, my son, I always knew you'd win it," her voice low and
-triumphant. "I can hardly just believe it; out of all those
-students--with their parents so rich and everything--that my own son
-carried it off from them all. And has it your name on it, Harvey?--with
-the degree on it too?" she enquired eagerly.
-
-"Of course," said Harvey, "it's in my trunk--and my hood's there too;
-they're both there, mother. It's a beautiful hood--and I'll show them
-to you if you'll wait a moment," he exclaimed impulsively, rising as he
-spoke.
-
-But his eyes met Jessie's and a darkness like the darkness of death fell
-upon them both. Jessie was trembling from head to foot, her hand going
-up instinctively to her face as if she had been struck. Harvey's pale
-cheek and quivering lips betrayed the agony that wrung him.
-
-"Forgive me, mother," his broken voice implored as he flung himself down
-beside her, his arms encircling her; "forgive me, my mother--I forgot,
-oh, I forgot," as he stroked the patient face with infinite gentleness,
-his hands caressing the delicate cheeks again and again.
-
-"He didn't mean it, mother--he didn't mean it," Jessie cried, drawing
-near to them; "he just forgot, mother--he just forgot," the words
-throbbing with love for both.
-
-But the mother's voice was untouched by pain. "Don't grieve like that,
-my darling," she pleaded, pressing Harvey's hands close to her cheek; "I
-know it was nothing, my son--I know just how it happened. And why will
-you mourn so for me, my children?" she went on in calm and tender tones,
-her arms encircling both. "Surely I've given you no reason for
-this--haven't I often told you how bright it is about me? And something
-makes me sure it's getting near the light. Don't you remember, dear,
-how the doctor said it might all come suddenly?--and I feel it's coming,
-coming fast; I feel sure God's leading me near the light."
-
-"Are you, mother?" Harvey asked. The question came simply, earnestly,
-almost awesomely.
-
-"Yes, dear; yes, I'm sure."
-
-"We always asked for that. Harvey and I have, every day--haven't we,
-Harvey?" Jessie broke in eagerly.
-
-Harvey nodded, his gaze still on his mother's face. For the light that
-sat upon it in noble calm entranced him. No words could have spoken
-more plainly of the far-off source that kindled it; and a dim, holy
-sense of the grandeur of her outlook, the loftiness of her peace, the
-eternal warrant of her claim, took possession of his soul. The beauty
-that clothed her was not of time; and no words of tender dissembling
-could conceal the exultant hope that bespoke how the days of her
-darkness should be ended.
-
-The silence was broken by his mother's voice. "Go and get them,
-Harvey--bring your medal and your hood. Bring them to your mother, my
-son," she said, as she released him to do her bidding.
-
-He was gone but a moment; returning, he bore in one hand the golden
-token, his name inwoven with its gleam. The other held his academic
-hood, its mystic white and purple blending to attest the scholar's
-station; he had thrown his college gown about him.
-
-Mutely standing, he placed the medal in his mother's hands. They shook
-as they received it, the thin fingers dumbly following its inscription,
-both hands enclosing it tightly, thrilling to the glad sensation. Then
-he held the hood out towards her, stammering some poor explanation of
-its material and its meaning.
-
-"Put it on, Harvey," she said.
-
-He swiftly slipped it about his neck, the flowing folds falling down
-from his shoulders. Involuntarily he bended before his mother, and the
-poor white hands went out in loving quest of the dear-bought symbol,
-tracing its form from end to end, lingering fondly over every fold. She
-spoke no word--but the trembling fingers still roved about the glowing
-laurel as her scholar boy stood silent before her, and the hot tears
-fell thick and fast upon it. For the memory of other days, days of
-poverty and stress; and the vision of the childish face as she had last
-beheld it; and the thought of all the hidden struggle, more bitter than
-he ever knew, that had thus brought back her once unknown child in
-triumph to his mother's home--back, too, in unchanged devotion and
-unabated love, to lay his trophies at the feet of her who bore him--all
-these started the burning tears that trickled so fast from the unseeing
-eyes and fell in holy stains upon the spotless emblem.
-
-
-Clocks are the very soul of cruelty, relentless most when loving hearts
-most wish that they would stay their hands. The ebbing moments,
-inconsiderate of all but duty, tell off the hours of our gladness, even
-of sacramental gladness, with unpitying faithfulness. And yet, strange
-as it may seem, how blessed is the law that will not let us know when
-the last precious moments are on the wing! How often do devoted hearts
-toy with them carelessly, or waste them in unthinking levity, or drug
-them with unneeded slumber, or squander them in wanton silence, as
-though they were to last forever! How the most prodigal would garner
-them, and the most frivolous employ, if it were only known that these
-are the last golden sands that glisten their parting message before they
-glide into the darkness!
-
-We may not know. As these two did not; and the last unconscious hour
-was spent in the company of another. "It's so good of you to come and
-sit with me, Miss Adair, while the children are at the party," was Mrs.
-Simmons' welcome to the kindly acquaintance as she entered. "Jessie's
-going on ahead--she promised to give Madeline some little help, so she
-had to go earlier. Won't you need to be starting soon, Harvey?"
-
-"I'm going just in a minute, mother," her son answered. "And you should
-have seen our Jessie," he digressed, turning to their visitor. "She
-never looked sweeter in her life. And the dress that she had on, she
-made it herself, she said--I didn't know Jessie was so accomplished."
-
-"Oh, Jessie's made many a--she's made many an admirer, by her dresses,"
-the adroit Miss Adair concluded, noticing a quick movement of Mrs.
-Simmons in her direction, and suddenly recalling the injunction she had
-forgotten.
-
-"I'm so sorry her flowers were withered," Harvey broke in, quite
-unconscious of what had been averted. "I sent her some from the
-city--but they were so wilted when they came that I didn't want her to
-take them."
-
-"Wait a minute, Harvey--I'll go with you a step or two," his mother
-interrupted as her son stooped to bid her good-night. "Please excuse
-me, Miss Adair; I'll be back in a minute," taking Harvey's arm as he
-turned towards the door.
-
-"It was so thoughtful of you to send those flowers to Jessie," she said
-as they moved slowly along the silent street; "she was quite enraptured
-when they came."
-
-"I sent some to--to Madeline too," Harvey informed her hesitatingly.
-"You see, I didn't expect, till this morning, to go to the party at
-all--and I wrote Madeline declining. So she isn't expecting me. Jessie
-promised not to tell her I had changed my mind; and in my letter I told
-Madeline I was sending the flowers in my place--but I'm afraid they'll
-be withered too. What's the matter, mother?" for her whole weight
-seemed suddenly to come upon his arm.
-
-"Nothing, dear; nothing much," she said, a little pantingly. "Let us
-sit here a minute," sinking on an adjoining step. "I've had these off
-and on lately," she added, trying to smile. "I'm better now--the doctor
-says it's some little affection of the heart. I guess it's just a rush
-of happiness," she suggested bravely, smiling as she turned her face
-full on Harvey's.
-
-"I'm so happy, my son--so proud and happy. You've done so well; and God
-has watched over you so wonderfully--and protected you." Then her voice
-fell almost to a whisper, faltering with the words she wanted to speak,
-yet shrank from uttering. These spoken, she listened as intently as if
-for the footfall of approaching death.
-
-"No, mother," he answered low, "no, never once since--yet I won't say I
-haven't felt it; I know I have, more than once. If I'm where it
-is--even if I catch the odour of liquor--the appetite seems to come
-back. And it frightened me terribly; it was like the baying of hounds,"
-drawing closer as he spoke.
-
-"That's like what your father used to say," she whispered, quivering.
-
-"But never once, mother--never a single time, since. I've always
-remembered that first night you came into my room--and that other time."
-
-"And I," she cried eagerly, "haven't I? I've been there many a night
-since then, when Jessie was asleep--I used to try and imagine it was
-you, Harvey," she said, turning her face on his in the uncertain light.
-
-The gentle colloquy flowed on while the shadows deepened about the
-whispering pair, the one happy because youth's radiance overshone his
-path, the other peaceful because a deeper, truer light was gathering in
-her heart. One cloud, and one alone, impaired the fullness of his joy;
-and that was, what even his hopeful heart could not deny, that his
-mother's strength was obviously less than when he had seen her last.
-But all the devotion of the years seemed gathered up into this gracious
-hour; the mother, mysteriously impelled, seemed loath to let the
-interview be at an end, though she knew Harvey must soon be gone.
-
-"You'd better hurry now, dear," she said when their own door was
-reached; "no, no, I can go in alone all right--on with you to the party,
-Harvey; they can't any of them be happier than I am to-night. And tell
-Madeline, for me, there's only one chick like mine in the world--and
-whoever gets----"
-
-The remainder of the message was lost in laughing protest as the
-good-byes were said; the mother stole softly in to her patient guest,
-her son hurrying on to the gathering revelry.
-
-
-
-
- *XXV*
-
- _*WHAT MADE THE BALL SO FINE?*_
-
-
-Harvey could not forbear to indulge a glance through the flaming windows
-as he drew near the house. He noted, a little ruefully it must be said,
-that almost every gentleman guest was attired after the conventional
-fashion he had predicted; but a moment's reasoning repelled any
-threatening embarrassment with scorn. Pressing bravely on, he had soon
-deposited his hat and coat, and after a minute or two of waiting in the
-dressing-room began his descent of the stairs to mingle with the
-animated scene.
-
-Looking down, one of the first to be descried was David Borland himself,
-as blithe and cheerful as though he were beginning, rather than
-concluding, his sojourn in the spacious house. He was chatting
-earnestly with Dr. Fletcher, interrupting the conversation now and then
-to greet some new-arriving guest. Near him was his wife, absorbed in
-the pleasant duty of receiving the steadily increasing throng who were
-to taste for the last time the hospitality for which that home had long
-been famous.
-
-But all others, and there were many whom Harvey recognized at a glance,
-were soon forgotten as his eyes rested on one whose face, suddenly
-appearing, filled all the room with light. For Madeline was making her
-way into the ample hall, flushed and radiant; her brow, never so serene
-before, was slightly moistened from the evening's warmth, while the
-wonderful hair, still bright and sunny, glistened in the softly shaded
-light. Aglow with excitement, her cheeks seemed to boast a colour he
-had never seen before, the delicate pink and white blending as on the
-face of childhood; and the splendid eyes, crowning all, were suffused
-with feeling. The significance of the hour and the animation of the
-scene united to create a sort of chastened mirthfulness, brimming with
-dignity and hope, yet still revealing how seriously she recognized the
-vicissitude time had brought, how well she knew the import of the change
-already at the door.
-
-Harvey stood still on the landing, gazing down unobserved, his eyes
-never turning from the face whose beauty seemed to unfold before him as
-he stood. Yet not mere beauty, either--he did not think of beauty, nor
-would he have so described what charmed him with a strange thrill he had
-never owned before--but the rich expression, rather, of an inward life
-that had deepened and mellowed with the years. Great sense was there,
-for one thing--and in the last appeal this feature of womanhood is
-irresistible to a truly manly heart; and her face spoke of love, large
-and generous, as if the weary and the troubled would ever find in her a
-friend; cheerfulness, courage, hope, the dignity of purity, the
-sweetness that marks those who have been cherished but not pampered and
-indulged but not petted, all combined to provide a loveliness of
-countenance that fairly ravished his heart as he peered through
-spreading palms upon the unconscious face beneath.
-
-Yet the joy he felt was not unmingled. For he could see, as a moment
-later he did see, that other eyes were turned with equal ardour in the
-same direction as his own. Madeline's appearance was a kind of
-triumphal entry; and there followed her, willing courtiers, two or three
-of the gallants of the place, whose function it evidently was to bear
-the glorious groups of flowers that various admirers had sent. Harvey's
-face darkened a little as he noted that Cecil was among them; though, to
-tell the truth, his seemed the most careless gaze of all--if admiration
-marked it, it was hungry admiration and nothing more. But the flowers
-he was carrying were pure; he had asked leave to carry them--and they
-themselves could not protest, shrink as they might from the unfitting
-hand. Others, nobler spirits, had burdens of equal fragrance, all fresh
-and beautiful as became the object of their homage.
-
-Slowly Harvey moved down the stairs. The proprieties were
-forgotten--all else as well--as he passed Mr. and Mrs. Borland by, the
-one glancing at him with obvious admiration, the other with impatient
-questioning. He was standing close in front of Madeline before she knew
-that he was there at all; suddenly raising her head as she turned from
-speaking with a friend, the soulful eyes fell full on his. She did her
-best--but the tides of life are strong and willful, and this one
-overswept the swift barrier she strove to interpose, as straws are swept
-before a storm. And the flood outpoured about him, surging as it smote
-the passion that leaped to meet it, the silent tumult beating like
-sudden pain on heart and ears and eyes, its mingled agony and rapture
-engulfing him till everything seemed to swim before him as before a
-drunken man.
-
-What voices silent things possess! And how God speaks through dull
-inanimate creatures as by the living lips of love! And what tell-tale
-tongues have the most trivial things to peal out life's holiest
-messages! For he saw--dimly at first and with a kind of shock, then
-clearly and with exultant certainty--he saw what was in her hand. It
-was only a bunch of simple flowers; but they were sorry looking things
-compared to their rivals whose fragrance filled the air, and the languor
-of death was upon them--yes, thank God, their bloom was faded, their
-freshness gone. For he recognized them, he knew them; and in the swift
-foment of his mind he even saw again the hard commercial face of the man
-from whom he had bought them, again the hard spared coins he had
-extracted from the poor total his poverty had left him, his heart the
-while leaping within him as though it could stand imprisonment no more.
-Dimly, vaguely, he saw behind her the noble clusters that other hands
-had sent--but other hands than hers were bearing them--and his were in
-her own, in the one that was bared in careless beauty as her glove hung
-indifferent from the wrist, unconscious of all that had displaced it.
-Careless observers had doubtless noted the dying flowers, marvelled
-mayhap; they knew not how instinct they were with life, how fadeless
-against the years their memory was to sweeten and enrich.
-
-He stood silent a moment with his hand half-outstretched, his eyes
-divided between the flowers beneath and the face above. His soul
-outpoured itself through them in a riot of joy he had neither desire nor
-power to restrain. Madeline stood like some lovely thing at bay, her
-eyes aglow, their message half of high reproach and half of passionate
-welcome.
-
-"You told me you weren't coming," she said in protesting tones, the
-words audible to no one but himself; "and I didn't expect you," her lips
-parted, her breath coming fast and fitfully, as though she were
-exhausted in the chase. Her radiant face was glorified--she knew it
-not--by the rich tides of life that leaped and bounded there, disporting
-themselves in the hour they had awaited long. Yet her whole attitude
-was marked by a strange aloofness, the wild air of liberty that is
-assumed by captive things; and her voice was almost controlled again as
-she repeated her remark.
-
-"You said you weren't coming;" the words voiced an interrogative.
-
-"So I did," he acknowledged, his eyes roaming about her face; "but I
-came," he added absently, a heavenly stupidity possessing him.
-
-"How's your mother?" she asked, struggling back.
-
-"She's not at all well," he answered, the tone full of real meaning; for
-this was a realm as sacred to him as the other.
-
-She was trying to replace her glove, the latter stubbornly resisting.
-
-"Please button this for me," as she held out her arm. He tried eagerly
-enough; but his hand trembled like an aspen. Her own was equally
-unsteady, and progress was divinely slow. He paused, looking helplessly
-up into her face; her hand fell by her side. Before either knew that he
-was near, Cecil's voice broke in: "Allow me, Madeline," he said; "I'm an
-old hand at operations like this--I'll do it for you, Madeline," as
-though he gloried in the name, and almost before she knew it he had
-seized her arm, swiftly accomplishing his purpose.
-
-Madeline was regal now, her very pose marked by unconscious pride.
-"Thank you," she said, still sweetly, "but I don't believe I want it
-fastened now--it's quite warm here, isn't it?" and with a quick gesture
-she slipped it from her hand, moving forward towards her father. Harvey
-stood still where he was; but the new heaven and the new earth had come.
-
-The evening wore on; nor could any gathering have been enriched with
-more of feeling than pervaded the triumphant hours. All seemed to
-forget the occasion that had convened them, remembering nothing but the
-valued friends who were still to be their own, even if outward
-circumstances were about to undergo the change so defiantly
-acknowledged. The crowning feature came when the simple supper was
-finished and the table partially cleared; for they who would remember
-David Borland at his best must think of him as he appeared when he
-called the guests to order and bade them fill their glasses high.
-
-"Take your choice of lemonade or ginger ale," he cried with a voice like
-a heightening breeze; and they who knew him well silently predicted the
-best of David's soul for the assembled guests that night. "There ain't
-nothin' stronger," he went on with serious mien; "drinks is always soft
-when times is hard--but drink hearty, friends, an' give the old house a
-good name."
-
-Possibly there was the slightest symptom of a tremor in his voice as it
-referred thus to what he held so dear, now about to be surrendered; but
-a moment later the old indomitable light was kindled in his eye, the
-strong face beaming with the unquenched humour that had been such a
-fountain in his own life and the lives of others. Something of new
-dignity was noticeable in his entire bearing, the bearing of a man who,
-if beaten, had been beaten in honourable battle, resolved still to
-retain all that was dearest to his heart; this explained the look of
-pride with which he marked, as he could hardly fail to mark, the
-affection and respect with which every eye regarded him as he stood
-before his friends.
-
-The toast to the King, and one other, had been disposed of, David
-proceeding merrily to launch another, when suddenly he was interrupted
-by Geordie Nickle, who rose from his place at the further end of the
-table.
-
-"Sit doon, David," he enjoined, nodding vehemently towards his friend,
-"an' gie an auld man a chance. Ladies an' gentlemen," he went on,
-directing his remarks to the company, "I'll ask ye to fill yir glasses
-wi' guid cauld water for to drink the toast I'll gie ye--naethin'll fit
-the man I'm gaein' to mention as weel as that; there's nae mixture aboot
-him, as ye ken. I'm wantin' all o' ye to drink a cup o' kindness to the
-man we love mair when he's puir nor we ever did afore. Here's to yin o'
-th' Almichty's masterpieces, David Borland--an' may He leave him amang
-us till He taks him till Himsel'."
-
-Geordie paused, his glass high in air. And the fervid guests arose to
-drink that toast as surely toast had never been drunk before. With a
-bumper and with three times three, and calling David's name aloud after
-a fashion that showed it had the years behind it, and with outgoing
-glances that spoke louder than words, every face searching his own in
-trust and sympathy and love, they did honour to the host who should
-entertain them there no more.
-
-It was almost too much for David. He arose when his guests had resumed
-their seats, and stood long looking down without a word. But he began
-at last, timidly, hesitatingly, emotion and language gradually making
-their way together as his eyes were slowly lifted to rest upon the faces
-of his friends. He referred frankly to the occasion that had brought
-them together, thus to bid farewell to the scene of many happy
-gatherings. "Folks say I'm beaten," he went on, "but that ain't true.
-I'm not beaten. I've lost a little--but I've saved more," as he looked
-affectionately around. "I'm not really much poorer than I was. I never
-cared a terrible lot about money; 'twas the game more. Just like boys
-with marbles; they don't eat 'em, they don't drink 'em--but they like to
-win 'em."
-
-Then he referred to the justice of the power that disturbs the security
-of human comfort, though he employed no such terms as those. "A
-fellow's got to take the lean with the fat," he said resignedly; "hasn't
-got no right to expect the clock'll strike twelve every time. A miller
-that sets his wheel by the spring freshet, he'd be a fool," he announced
-candidly, knowing no term more accurate, "'cause it's bound to drop some
-time. Of course, it comes tougher to _get_ poor than to _be_ poor; it's
-worse to be impoverished than jest to be poor, as our friend Harvey here
-would say; he's a scholar, you know, and a B.A. at that," he added,
-turning his eyes with the others towards Harvey's conscious face.
-
-"A stoot heart tae a steep brae, David!" broke in Geordie's voice as he
-leaned forward, his admiring gaze fixed on his friend.
-
-"Them's my sentiments," assented David, smiling back at the dauntless
-Scotchman. "I mind a woman out in Illinois--she was terrible rich, and
-she got terrible poor all of a sudden. Well, she had to wash her own
-dishes, after the winds descended an' the floods blew and beat upon her
-house, as the Scriptur' says--an' she jest put on every diamond ring she
-had to her name an' went at it. That's Mr. Nickle's meanin', my
-friends, I take it--an' that's jest what I'm goin' to do myself. I
-don't know exactly what I'm agoin' to go at," he went on thoughtfully;
-"I've got a kind of an offer to be a kind of advisin' floor-walker for
-the line I've been at--an' maybe I'll take it an' keep my hand in a bit.
-We're goin' to live in a little cottage--an' there'll always be heaps o'
-room for you all. An' we're goin' to manage all right," he went on, his
-eye lighting at what was to follow; "I've got an arrangement made with
-Madeline here. We won't have a terrible lot of help round the house; so
-she's goin' to attend to the furnace in the winter--an' I'm goin' to
-look after it in the summer. So we'll get along all right, all right.
-An' now, friends," he continued seriously, "I must hump it to a close,
-as the preachers say. But there's one thing--don't believe all Mr.
-Nickle tells you about me; I ain't near as good as he says. These
-Scotchmen's terrible on epitaphs when they once get started. An' he's
-like all the rest o' them--when he likes a man he swallows him whole.
-But I want to thank you all for helpin' us to make the last night so
-jolly. I don't find it hard myself, for I'm as certain as I ever was of
-anythin' it's all for the best. I want you to give that hymn out again
-next Sunday, doctor," and David's face had no trace of merriment as he
-turned to look for his pastor by his side; "oh, I forgot the doctor goes
-home early--but I'll ask him anyhow, an' we'll sing it louder'n we ever
-did before. It's been runnin' in my mind an awful lot lately: 'With
-mercy an' with judgment'--you can't beat them words much; it's the old
-comfortin' thought about Who's weavin' the web. So now I jest want to
-thank everybody here for comin'--we've had good happy years together,
-an' there's more to follow yet, please God," he predicted reverently as
-he resumed his seat, the deep silence that reigned about him being more
-impressive than the most boisterous applause.
-
-The pause which followed was broken by a suggestion, low and muffled at
-first, gradually finding louder voice and at last openly endorsed by
-Geordie Nickle, that "auld lang syne" would be a fitting sequel to what
-had gone before. David hailed the proposal with delight.
-
-"We'll sing it now," he said enthusiastically, "an' we'll have the old
-doxology right after--they're both sacred songs, to my way o' thinkin',"
-as he beckoned to Geordie to take his place beside him, the company
-rising to voice the love-bright classic.
-
-But just as cordial hands were outgoing to loyal hands outstretched to
-meet them, the door-bell broke in with sudden clamour, and some one on
-the outer edge of the circle called aloud the name of Harvey Simmons.
-There was something ominous in the tone, and one at least detected the
-paleness of Harvey's cheek as he hurried towards the door. A moment
-sufficed the breathless messenger to communicate what he had to tell,
-and in an instant Harvey had turned swiftly towards the wondering
-company. He spoke no word, offered no explanation, but his eye fell on
-Jessie's in silent intimation of what she already seemed to fear.
-Noiselessly she slipped from the now voiceless circle, joining her
-brother as they both passed swiftly out into the night.
-
-
-
-
- *XXVI*
-
- *"*_*THE FAIR SWEET MORN AWAKES*_*"*
-
-
-Darkness was about them, dense and silent; nor were the shadows that
-wrapped their hearts less formidable. For something seemed to tell
-Harvey that one of life's great hours was approaching, like to which
-there is none other to be confronted by a lad's loving soul.
-Involuntarily, almost unconsciously, his hand went out in the darkness
-in search of his sister's; warm but trembling, it stole into his own.
-And thus, as in the far-off days of childhood, they went on through the
-dark together, the slight and timid one clinging to the strong and
-fearless form beside her. But now both hearts were chilled with
-fear--not of uncanny shadows, or grotesque shapes by the wayside, or
-nameless perils, as had been the case in other days--but of that
-mysterious foe, one they had never faced before, ever recognized as an
-enemy to be some day reckoned with, but now knocking at the gate. Yet,
-awful though they knew this enemy to be, their feet scarce seemed to
-touch the ground, so swiftly did they hurry on to meet him, counting
-every moment lost that held them back from the parting struggle. Hand
-in hand they pressed forward, these children of the shadows.
-
-"Did they say she was dying, Harvey?" Jessie asked in an awesome voice,
-little more than a whisper.
-
-"That's what they thought," he answered, his hand tightening on hers;
-"she thought so herself."
-
-The girl tried in vain to check the cry that broke from her lips.
-"Don't, sister, don't," he pleaded, his own voice in ruins; "maybe she
-won't leave us yet--but if she does, if she does, she'll see--she'll see
-again, Jessie." The emotion that throbbed in the great prediction
-showed how a mother's blindness can lay its hand on children's hearts
-through long and clouded years.
-
-"But she won't see us, Harvey, she won't see us before she goes. Oh,
-Harvey, I've longed so much for that, just that mother might see
-us--even if it was only once--before she dies. And, you know, the
-doctor said if it came it would come suddenly; and I've always thought
-every morning that perhaps it might come that day. And now," the
-sobbing voice went on, "now--if she goes away--she won't have seen us at
-all. And we always prayed, Harvey; we prayed always for that," she
-added, half-rebelliously. Her brother answered never a word. Instead,
-he took a firmer grasp upon his sister's hand and strode resolutely on.
-By this time his head was lifted high and his eye was kindled with a
-strange and burning glow, his heart leaping like a frightened thing the
-while; for he could descry the light of their cottage home. Tiny and
-insignificant, that home stood wrapped in darkness save for that one
-sombre beacon-light--but the flickering gleam that rose and fell seemed
-to call him to the most majestic of all earthly scenes, such scenes as
-lend to hovel or to palace the same unearthly splendour.
-
-"Will she know us, do you think?" Jessie whispered as they pushed open
-the unlocked door and went on into the dimly lighted house. Harvey did
-not seem to hear, so bent was he on the solemn quest, ascending the
-stair swiftly but silently, his sister's hand still tight within his
-own. As they came near the top they could just catch, through the
-half-open door, the outline of their mother's face, the stamp of death
-unmistakably upon it; she lay white and still upon her pillow, two forms
-bending above her, one of which they recognized at once as the doctor's.
-Whereat suddenly, as if unable to go farther, Harvey stopped and stood
-still; Jessie did likewise, turning with low sobs and flinging herself
-into her brother's arms, her face hidden while he held her close,
-silently endeavouring to comfort the stricken heart.
-
-"Don't, Jessie," he whispered gently. "Let us make it easier for her if
-we can--and let us think of all it means to her--all it'll bring back
-again. Come," the last word spoken with subdued passion, courage and
-anguish blending. They went in together, slowly, each seeming to wait
-for the other to lead the way. Their look, their movements, their
-manner of walk, the very way they leaned forward to peer with eager,
-awe-inspired eyes upon their mother's face--all spoke of childhood;
-everything reverted in this great hour to the sweet simplicity of that
-period of life that had bound them to their mother in sacred
-helplessness. The primal passion flowed anew. And the two who crossed
-the floor together, tip-toeing towards the bed whereon their only
-earthly treasure lay, were now no more a laurel-laden man and a maiden
-woman-grown, waging the stern warfare life had thrust upon them; but
-they were simply boy and girl again, hand linked in hand as in the far
-departed days when two stained and tiny palms had so often lain one
-within the other--boy and girl, their hearts wrung with that strange
-grief that would be powerless against us all, could we but remain
-grown-up men and women. For the kingdom of sorrow resembles the kingdom
-of heaven, in this, at least, that we enter farthest in when we become
-like little children; and an all-wise Father has saved many a man from
-incurable maturity by the rejuvenating touch of sorrow, by the
-youth-renewing ministry of tears.
-
-"Look, oh, Harvey, look," Jessie suddenly whispered in strange, excited
-tones. Subdued though her voice was, a kind of storm swept through it.
-Harvey started, looked afresh--and saw; and instinctively, almost
-convulsively, he turned and clutched Jessie tightly by the arm. She too
-was clinging to him in a very spasm of trembling.
-
-"She sees us," came Jessie's awesome tidings, her face half-hidden on
-her brother's shoulder.
-
-"She sees us," he echoed absently, his face turning again towards the
-bed, his eyes resuming the wondrous quest.
-
-He gazed, unspeaking, as one might gaze who sees within the veil. All
-else was forgotten, even great Death--so jealous of all rivals--whose
-presence had filled the room a moment or two agone. And the silent
-years beyond--ah me! the aching silence after a mother's voice is
-hushed--were unthought of now. And the grim and boding shade of
-orphanhood, deepening from twilight into dark, was unavailing against
-the new-born light that flooded all his soul with joy.
-
-For he saw--and the bitter memories of bygone years fled before the
-vision as the night retreats before the dawn--he saw a smile upon his
-mother's face, the smile he had not seen for years; unforgotten, for it
-had mingled with his dreams--but it had vanished from her eyes when
-those eyes had looked their last upon her children's faces. Yes, it was
-in her eyes--brightness he had often seen before on cheek and lip,
-merriment even--but this was the heart's loving laughter breaking
-through the soul's clear window as it had been wont to do before that
-window had been veiled in gloom.
-
-He remembered afterwards, what he did not then remark, that the doctor,
-observing his rapt expression, came close with some whispered
-explanation--some discourse on the relaxation of the optic nerve as a
-result of physical collapse--something of that sort, and much more, did
-the good man stammer forth to eke out this miracle of God. But Harvey
-heard him not--nor saw him even--for the love-light in his mother's eyes
-called him with imperious voice, and almost roughly did he snatch
-himself from Jessie's grasp as he pressed forward with outstretched
-hands. He moved around the foot of the bed, his hands still extended;
-and as he did so he noticed, with wild surging joy, that the devouring
-eyes followed him as he went. The sensation, new, elemental,
-overpowering, almost overcame him; something of the sense of
-repossession of a long absent soul, or the kindling of a long
-extinguished fire, or the cessation of a long tormenting pain, laid hold
-upon his heart. As he drew near and bent low above the bed, his
-mother's face was almost as a holy thing, so transfigured was it with
-its glow of love. The rapture in her eyes was such as conquerors
-know--for it was the moment of her triumph after the long battle with
-the years. And her lips moved as if they longed to chant the victor's
-song; yet they were muffled soon--for the hands she laid upon the bended
-shoulders of her boy were hungry hands, and that strange strength so
-often vouchsafed the dying was loaned her as she drew the manly form,
-all quivering and broken now, close to her throbbing bosom. A moment
-only--for the yearning eyes would not be long denied--till she gently
-released the hidden face, holding him forth before her while the long
-thirsting orbs drank deep of holy gladness.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," she murmured low, "Harvey, my son--my little son."
-
-"Mother--my mother," he answered back, as his hand stroked the pallid
-cheek; for the new vision was as wonderful to him as her returning
-vision could be to her. "Oh, mother, don't--don't leave us now, dear
-mother," he sobbed in pleading, the child-note breaking through his
-voice again, "now, when we'll all be so happy, mother."
-
-She smiled and shook her head faintly; his plea seemed to find but faint
-lodgment in her mind. For she was otherwise employed; she gazed, as
-though she could never gaze enough, upon the loving, pleading face
-before her; she was searching for all that would reveal the soul
-behind--all that might speak of purity, and temperance, and victory; she
-was gathering traces of the years, the long curtained years through
-which his unfolding soul had been hidden from her sight. And her eyes
-wandered from his face only long enough to lift themselves to heaven in
-mute thanksgiving to that God whose truth and faithfulness are the
-strength and refuge of a mother's heart.
-
-Suddenly she turned restlessly upon her pillow, her gaze outgoing beyond
-Harvey's now bended head.
-
-"Oh, Jessie," she said with returning rapture, "oh, Jessie--my wee
-Jessie--my little daughter; oh, my darling," as she drew the
-awe-stricken face down beside her brother's. There they nestled close,
-there as in blessed and unforgotten days, all the fragrance of the
-sorrow-riven past, all the portent of the love-lorn future mingling in
-baptism upon their almost orphaned heads.
-
-The thin white fingers toyed with the girl's lovely hair; "it's so much
-darker," she half whispered as if to herself, "but it's beautiful; your
-face, Jessie; let me see your face," she faltered, as the maiden turned
-her swimming eyes anew upon her mother. "Thank God," she murmured, "oh,
-let me say it while I can--He's been so good to me. He's kept us
-all--all--so graciously; and He's--always--found the path. It was
-never--really--dark; and now He's made it light at eventide," she half
-cried with a sudden gust of strength and gladness. "And I know--I've
-seen--before I go; it'll make heaven beautiful," and she sank back,
-faint and exhausted, on her pillow.
-
-The devoted doctor and the faithful friend had both slipped noiselessly
-from the room. They knew that love's last Sacrament was being thus
-dispensed, the precious wine to be untasted more till these three should
-drink it new in the kingdom of God. But now Miss Adair, her love
-impelling her, ventured timidly back; she came gently over, so gently
-that she was unnoticed by the bending children, taking her place beside
-Harvey. She touched him on the shoulder; his eyes gave but a fleeting
-spark of recognition as they fell on what she held in her hand.
-
-"I thought she'd like to see them," said the kindly woman; "she couldn't
-before, you know," and as she spoke she bended above the bed, a look of
-expectation on her face as she held Harvey's hood, and his medal, before
-the new-illumined eyes. The lamp's dim light fell athwart them and they
-gleamed an instant as if in conscious pride.
-
-The dying woman saw them; her eyes rested a moment on them both, and the
-kindly purposed neighbour made as if to put them in her hands. But the
-purpose died before she moved--for the mother's glance showed her that
-these things were to her now but as the dust. The time was short; the
-night was coming fast; the dying eyes, so strangely lightened for this
-parting joy, were consecrated to one purpose and to that alone--and the
-gleaming gold and the flashing fabric lay unnoticed on the bed, the
-mother's face still turned upon her children's in yearning eagerness, as
-though she must prepare against the years that would hide them from her
-sight till the endless day should give them back to her undimmed gaze
-forever.
-
-Few were the words that were spoken now. The stream of peace flowed
-silently; and the reunited three held their high carnival of love--and
-of strange sorrow-clouded joy--the long tragedy of their united lives
-breaking at last into the blessedness of resignation, resignation aglow
-with hope. For this pledge of God's faithfulness was hailed by every
-heart; and they felt, though no lip voiced the great assurance, that
-life's long shadows would at last be lost in love's unclouded day.
-
-Into a gentle, untroubled slumber their mother fell at length. When she
-awaked, her eyes leaped anew, fastening themselves upon her children as
-though the precious gift had been bestowed afresh.
-
-"I had a lovely--dream," she faltered. "I saw you--both--little
-children--like you used to be. And I thought your father--was--there
-too. It was heaven," she went on, her face brightening with a far-off
-light; "I thought he was there--and all the--the struggle--was past and
-gone. You asked--me--once, dear--if he was there," her sweet smile
-turned on Harvey. "Not yet, dear--not yet--but----" She motioned him
-to bend down beside her. "Your father's living," she whispered low, her
-shining eyes fixed on his. Jessie retreated, not knowing why, but the
-wonderful light told her that it was a great moment between mother and
-son. "He's living," the awed voice whispered again--"but he's afraid.
-He'll come back--some day--Harvey. And you--you--must forgive him.
-He'll tell you. And love him; tell him--I'm--waiting there. You must
-love him--and forgive him--and bring him----" Then she stopped,
-breathless.
-
-The wonderful tidings seemed at first almost more than the son could
-bear. With face suffused and eyes aglow, he gazed upon his mother.
-Suddenly his lips began to move; he spoke like one who has descried
-something wonderful, and far away.
-
-"Yes, mother," he whispered low, "yes, I'll love him--I love him now;
-I'll love him--like you love him. And I'll bring him, mother, when he
-comes back; I'll bring him--we'll come together. I'll tell him what you
-said," he cried, forgetful who might hear, "and then he'll come--I know
-he'll come," his face radiant with the thought.
-
-"And Jessie," the mother murmured, "Jessie too."
-
-"Yes, Jessie too," he answered; "come, Jessie--come," as he beckoned to
-her; she moved gently over and kneeled with him beside the bed.
-
-The day had broken. And the glowing heralds of the approaching sun were
-making beautiful the path before him. Hill and dale, their shining
-outlines visible in the distance, were clothed in golden glory; the opal
-clouds announced the coming of their king; the fragrant trees, and the
-bursting buds, and the spreading blossoms, and the kindling sward, and
-the verdure-covered fields gave back the far-flung smile of light. Like
-a bride adorned for her husband, all stood in unconscious beauty as far
-as eye could reach.
-
-"Look, mother, look," Harvey cried suddenly, gently lifting the dear
-head from the pillow as the sanctity of the scene impelled him. "Oh,
-mother, you can see them all," rapture and sorrow mingling in the tone.
-
-The far-seeing eyes turned slowly towards the window, rested one brief,
-wonderful moment upon the wonderful sight, then turned away in ineffable
-tenderness and longing, fastening themselves again where they had been
-fixed before. For love is a mighty tyrant and the proudest kings must
-take their place as vassals in his train.
-
-An instant later the dying eyes seemed to leap far beyond, beautiful
-with rapture. "Look, look," she cried as though the others were the
-blind, "look, oh look," her voice ringing clear with the last energy of
-death; "it's lovelier yonder--where it's always spring. Don't you see,
-Harvey? Jessie, don't you see? And baby's there, Jessie--Harvey, the
-baby's there--and she's beckoning; look, look, it's you--not me--she's
-calling. Let us all go," she said, the voice dropping to faintness
-again, the eyes turning again upon her children; "let us--all--go; it's
-so--lovely; and we're--all--so tired," as the dear lips became forever
-still.
-
-And the rejoicing sun came on, the riot of his joy untempered, no badge
-of mourning in his hand. And he greeted the motherless with unwonted
-gladness as he filled the little room with light, kissing the silent
-face as though he would wish it all joy of the well-won rest. For he
-knew, he knew the secret of it all. He knew Who had transfigured hill
-and dale and tree and flower with the glance of love; he knew the source
-of all life's light and shade; he knew the afterward of God; he knew
-Death's other, sweeter name.
-
-But the motherless made no response. Still they knelt, one on each side
-of the unanswering form; and still, tightly clasped, each held a wasted
-hand.
-
-
-
-
- *XXVII*
-
- _*A BROTHER'S MASTERY*_
-
-
-It was the following night, the last night of all. Harvey lay with wide
-staring eyes that sought in vain to pierce the darkness; he felt it were
-almost a sacrilege to sleep, even could he have done so, since there
-would lie never more beneath the long familiar roof the beloved form
-that he had never known absent for a single night. He suddenly realized
-this--and it leaped like fire in his brain--that he had never spent a
-night in this, the only home he had ever known, without the dear
-presence that must to-morrow be withdrawn. He recalled the comfort and
-the courage this had given him in many a trembling hour when the
-nameless fears of childhood gathered with the night; how sometimes,
-tormented by grotesque shapes and grotesquer fancies, his terror had
-vanished like a dream when he had heard her cough, or sigh, or break
-into the gentle tones he had early learned were between her soul and
-God. He recalled, too, that often, startled by some unreasoning fear,
-he would call out loudly in the night; and in a moment the gentle form
-would be beside his bed, her hand upon him as she caressed him with a
-word, which word became the lullaby upon whose liquid wave he was borne
-back to dreamland.
-
-All this could never be again, he mused in bitter loneliness. As he
-dwelt upon it the thought became almost intolerable; and suddenly
-rising--for he had not yet undressed--he began noiselessly to descend
-the stairs, purposing to go out into the night; for there is healing in
-the cool cisterns of the midnight air. But he noticed, to his surprise,
-a light stealing from beneath Jessie's door; instinctively he turned and
-knocked, his lonely heart glad of the sympathy he would not seek there
-in vain.
-
-She bade him enter; obeying, he stood amazed as he beheld how his sister
-was employed. For Jessie was full dressed; it was after three o'clock,
-but she had made no preparations for retiring. Instead, she was seated
-on the bed, the room bestrewed with materials for the toil that was
-engrossing her. Cloth, of various kinds and in various shapes,
-separated fragments yet to be adjusted, were scattered about; scissors
-and spools and tape measures lay upon the bed on which the stooping form
-was seated. And Jessie herself, a lamp whose oil was almost exhausted
-stationed high above her, was sewing away as if for life itself; worn
-and weary, her fingers chafed and sore, a burning flush on either cheek,
-the tired shoulders stooped and bent, she was pressing on with her
-humble toil.
-
-He uttered a quick exclamation of surprise, almost of reproach, as his
-eyes fell on the pitiful face and noticed the signs of drudgery about
-her. His first thought, as soon as he could collect himself, was that
-his sister was preparing the habiliments of mourning which her
-orphanhood would now demand. But sad and striking contrast, the fabric
-over which the fragile form was bent was of a far different kind. The
-material was of the richest and gayest sort, while yoke of rarest
-embroidery, and costly lace, and rich brocade, spoke of wealth and
-fashion far beyond their station.
-
-Jessie started as if detected in some guiltful work; she even made one
-swift attempt to hide the handiwork that lay glistening across her knee.
-
-Harvey closed the door; and there was more of sternness in his voice
-than she had ever heard before. "Jessie," he said gravely, "our mother's
-lying dead downstairs."
-
-Alas! the poor girl knew it well. And her only answer was a quick and
-copious gush of tears. It was pitiful to see her snatch the delicate
-creation and toss it quickly from her, lest her grief should stain it;
-then she rocked gently to and fro in a gust of sorrow.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," she sobbed, "you didn't mean that, brother. I know you
-didn't mean it."
-
-He was still in the dark. But the anguish of this dear heart, so loyal
-to him through the years, was more than he could stand. With one quick
-stride he took his place beside her on the bed, his arm encircling her
-with infinite tenderness.
-
-"Don't, sister," he said, "don't cry like that; I didn't mean it,
-dear--only I didn't understand--I can't understand."
-
-She offered no explanation, sobbing gently a few minutes in his arms.
-
-"I couldn't understand, Jessie," he said again a little later.
-
-"I couldn't help it," she said at last without raising her head. "I
-didn't want to sew, with mother lying dead--but I couldn't help it. I
-really couldn't. It's not for me," she flung out at last, the long
-hidden secret surrendered after all. "It's not for me--and I had to get
-it done. They insisted so--and I couldn't afford to lose them--it's for
-a party."
-
-The blood left Harvey's face, then surged hotly back to it again. His
-arms fell from about her and he sat like one in a trance. His eyes
-roved dumbly about the room, falling here and there upon many a thing,
-unnoticed in the first survey, that confirmed the assurance which now
-chilled him to the heart. Then his eyes turned to his sister's face. It
-was averted, downcast--but he could see, what he had but casually
-remarked before, how the hand of toil had left its mark upon it. Sweet
-and tender and unselfish, courage and resolution in every line, he could
-now read the whole sad story of what lay behind. The worn fingers were
-interlocked upon her lap, and he could see how near the blood was to the
-very fingertips. And as he reflected, almost madly, upon the desperate
-necessity that had held her to her work under the very shadow of death,
-and driven her to it though with a broken heart; as he recalled the
-mysterious sources of support that had never failed him till his college
-course was done, a flood of sacred light broke upon it all--and the dear
-form before him, tired and wasted as it was, was gently drawn to his
-bosom with hands of reverent love, his murmuring lips pressed lightly to
-the burning cheeks in penitent devotion.
-
-"Forgive me, sister," he pleaded in a faltering voice, "oh, forgive me;
-for I did not know--I did not know."
-
-Her answer was never spoken; but it came.
-
-It was not long till he had learned, and from her own reluctant lips,
-all the story of the toil and drudgery that had been thus so suddenly
-revealed. But, protest as he might, Jessie was resolved to press on with
-the work she had been engaged in.
-
-"I'm just as well able to work as you are, Harvey," she said earnestly.
-"I certainly will not give up the store."
-
-"But I'm sure of a position on the newspaper I was telling you about,
-Jessie," Harvey urged--"and I can at least help; I can always spare a
-little," he assured her confidently, "and there's one thing you must do
-before very long," he went on eagerly; "you've really got to come and
-stay a while with Miss Farringall. She practically made me promise for
-you. Couldn't somebody mind the store while you're away?"
-
-"I suppose so," Jessie relented enough to say; "Miss Adair could manage
-it well enough, of course. And I'd love to have a long visit with you,
-brother," she added fondly. "We're all alone in the world now, Harvey,"
-her voice trembling as the tired eyes filled to overflowing--"we haven't
-anybody else but each other now."
-
-Harvey looked her full in the face. "There's another," he said in a
-whisper after a long silence.
-
-Jessie started violently; then her demand for more light came swift and
-urgent.
-
-As gently as he could, he broke to her the wonderful news. The girl was
-trembling from head to foot.
-
-But her first thought seemed to be of her mother. "And that was it," she
-cried amid her sobs; "that was the sorrow mother carried about with her
-all the time. Oh, Harvey, I always knew there was something--I always
-felt mother had some burden she wouldn't let us share with her--I always
-felt her heart was hungry for something she hoped she'd get before she
-died. Poor, poor mother--our dear, brave mother!"
-
-Harvey staunched the tide of grief as best he could. Their talk turned,
-and naturally enough, to the hope of their father's return some day,
-both promising the fulfillment of their mother's dying wish.
-
-"We'll do just as mother would have done," the girl said in sweet
-simplicity; "and we'll wait together, Harvey--we'll watch and wait
-together."
-
-"And you'll help me, won't you, sister?" Harvey asked suddenly.
-
-"What to do?" Jessie said wonderingly.
-
-"Just help me," he answered, his voice faltering. "Will you promise me
-that, Jessie; you don't know yet all it means--just always to stick to
-me, and help me, and believe in me--till--till father comes?" he
-concluded, looking steadfastly into her wondering eyes. "Come with me,
-sister--come."
-
-The darkness was at its deepest, the lamp-light now flickered into
-gloom, as he rose and led her gently from the room. Groping
-noiselessly, they two, the only living things about the house, crept
-downward to the chamber of the dead. The door creaked with a strange
-unearthly sound as Harvey pushed it open and drew his sister in beside
-him. Onward he pressed, his arm still supporting her, till they stood
-above the silent face. It lay in the pomp of the majestic silence,
-calmly awaiting the last earthly dawn that should ever break upon it,
-awaiting that slow-approaching hour when the last movement should be
-made, the last tender rudeness which would lay it, swaying slightly,
-upon the waiting bosom of the earth--and then the eternal stillness and
-the dark.
-
-They stood long, no sound escaping them, above the noble face. Its dim
-outlines could be just discerned, calm and stately in the royal mien of
-death. They gazed long together. "I believe she's near us," Harvey
-whispered. Then he drew her gently down till their faces met upon the
-unresponsive face of their precious dead.
-
-A moment later he led her tenderly away. She passed first through the
-door; but he turned and looked back. The first gray streak of dawn was
-stealing towards his mother's face; and he saw, or thought he saw, a
-look of deeper peace upon it than had ever been there before. And the
-still lips spoke their benediction and breathed their love upon her
-children--all the more her own because she dwelt with God.
-
-
-
-
- *XXVIII*
-
- _*A LIGHT AT MIDNIGHT*_
-
-
-"There's something--but I don't know what it is. But there's something;
-now Jessie, do sit up straight, and breathe deep--you know you promised
-me you'd breathe deep. Yes, there's something wrong with Harvey."
-
-If Jessie was not breathing very deep she was breathing very fast. Even
-Grey felt a nameless agitation in the domestic atmosphere, looking up
-with cat-like gravity into Miss Farringall's troubled face. He had
-noticed, doubtless, that the mercurial spectacle, had been ascending and
-descending from nose to brow and from brow to nose with significant
-rapidity. Grey did not look at Jessie--except casually. She not been
-sufficiently long in the house--and belonged to one of the oldest and
-best-bred of feline families.
-
-Still Jessie did not speak. But her hostess, dear soul, was ever equal
-to double duty. Like most maiden ladies, Miss Farringall had the
-dialogue gift abundantly developed; nor was it liable to perish through
-disuse.
-
-"Yes," she went on as cheerfully as her perplexity would allow, "he's
-been so different lately. He comes home at such strange hours, for him.
-And sometimes he waits a long time at the door, as if he didn't know
-whether to come in or not. Of course," she added reassuringly, "no one
-else knows but me; Barlow never hears anything, for he's dead all
-night--he never resurrects till half-past seven," a timid smile lighting
-her face a moment. "But Harvey's different every way; all his fun and
-merriment are gone--and he seems so depressed and discouraged, as if he
-was being beaten in some fight his life depended on. I don't know what
-to make of it at all."
-
-Jessie's face showed white in the gaslight; and her voice was far from
-steady. "Has this all been since--since mother died?" she asked, with
-eyes downcast and dim.
-
-"Not altogether. No, not at all. I noticed it first, a while after he
-went on the _Argus_. He was so proud about getting on the staff--he got
-hold of a life of Horace Greeley in the library, and he used to joke
-about it and say some day he'd stand there too. But it began one
-morning--the change, I mean--and he's never been the same since. And
-one night, just before he went out, he brought me an envelope and asked
-me to keep it till he came back. I'm not very sure, but I think there
-was money in it--and it was just at the end of the month too," she added
-significantly.
-
-"Doesn't he like newspaper life?" enquired Jessie.
-
-"Oh, yes; I think he's crazy about it. You see, with his education and
-his gifts--he's a born writer--there isn't any kind of business could
-suit him better. I think he has his own times with Mr. Crothers--he's
-the city editor, a kind of manager. He's a strange man, blusters and
-swears a good deal, I think--but he's got a good heart, from what I can
-hear."
-
-"Why don't you have a confidential talk with Harvey?" suggested Jessie.
-"He'd tell you almost anything, I'm sure."
-
-"I've thought of that. But I was going to ask you the very same thing.
-Why don't you?--you're his sister."
-
-Jessie's lip quivered. "I couldn't," she said hesitatingly; "I couldn't
-stand it. Besides, you know, I ought to go home to-morrow. Miss
-Adair's expecting me--and she says the store always prospers better when
-I'm there myself; she's had charge for ten days now, while I've been
-visiting here."
-
-Miss Farringall sighed. "I wish I could coax you out of that," she
-said. "Why will you go away so soon, Jessie? These days you've been
-here have been such a joy; I'm such a lonely creature," she added
-glancing out at the silent, dimly-lighted hall. "There's hardly ever
-anybody around now but Barlow--and he's a ghost. Of course, Dr. Wallis
-comes when I send for him--but we always quarrel. Then, of course, the
-rector comes every little while--but he's a kind of a prayer-book with
-clothes on; he gets solemner every day. What I'm getting to hate about
-him," she went on, vehemently, "is that he has his mind made up to be
-solemn, and he's not meant for it--red-headed men with freckles never
-are," she affirmed decisively. "But you and Harvey, you almost seem,
-Jessie--you might have been my own children, I think sometimes," a queer
-little tremor in the voice, the withered cheek flushing suddenly. But
-Jessie did not remark the strange tenderness of the glance she cast
-towards the treasure-hiding desk in the corner. "Some day I want to tell
-you----"
-
-But her voice suddenly died away in silence as both women turned their
-eyes eagerly towards the door. For they could see the approaching form
-of the subject of their conversation. And it needed but a glance to
-confirm the opinion Miss Farringall had already expressed. Harvey was
-making his way heavily up the stairs, his step slow and uncertain, his
-whole bearing significant of defeat. As he passed the door a faint
-plaintive smile played upon the face that was turned a moment on the
-familiar forms within; the face was haggard and pale, the eyes heavy and
-slightly bloodshot, the expression sad and despondent. Yet the old
-chivalrous light was there; clouded it was as if by shame and
-self-reproach, yet with native pride and honour flashing through it all
-as though the fires of a stern and unceasing conflict were glowing far
-within.
-
-Jessie started as if to greet him. But something checked her--she would
-wait till they were alone.
-
-Entering his room and pausing only to remove his boots, Harvey flung
-himself with a stifled groan upon the bed. How long he had lain there
-before interruption came, he neither knew nor cared. For the unclosed
-eyes were staring out into the darkness, his brain half-maddened with
-its activity of pain. Nearly everything that concerned his entire life
-seemed to float before him as his hot eyes ransacked the productive
-dark. Childhood days, with their deep poverty and their deeper wealth;
-the light and music of their darkened, sorrow-shaded home; the plaintive
-enterprise of their little store; the friends and playmates of those
-early days--and one friend, if playmate never; the broadened life of
-college, and all his discovery of himself, his powers, his
-possibilities, his perils; the one epoch-making night of life, its light
-above the brightness of the sun--his burning face hid itself in the
-pillow, his hands tight clenched as those half-withered flowers in
-Madeline's hand rose before him, his hopes more faded now than they.
-Then came the holy scene that had followed fast, so wonderfully vivid
-now--for in the dark he could see his mother's dying face with strange
-distinctness, the dear eyes open wide and filled with tender light as
-they turned upon her son, the thin hands outstretched as if to call the
-tired one to the comfort of her love.
-
-The glow of filial passion lingered but a moment on the haggard face.
-For other memories followed fast. How he had bidden farewell to Jessie,
-returning to the city with high resolve to snatch nobler gains than the
-poor laurels her secret heroism had enabled him to win--his hood and
-medal flitted for a moment through his thought, only to be cast aside as
-paltry baubles, garish trifles, with their dying sheen; how, later, he
-had secured a worthy place on the news staff of one of the leading
-dailies of the city, his heart high with hope for the career that should
-await him; how his gifts and his opportunity had conspired to confirm
-the hope.
-
-Clouds and darkness were about the remainder of his reverie. But part
-of it had to do with his hour of joy and triumph. He felt again the
-jubilance, the separate sort of thrill, that had possessed him when the
-great "scoop" had been accomplished--to use the vivid metaphor that
-journalists employ. And he recalled the annual banquet--he could see
-many of the faces through the dark--at which his own name had been
-called aloud, actually requested as he had been to propose the toast to
-the paper it was his pride to serve. Then came the brief, fatal struggle
-as the glasses were lifted high. He ground his teeth as he remembered
-Oliver--once friend and chum, now fiend and enemy; and Harvey's thought
-of him was lurid with a kind of irrational hate--for Oliver had spurred
-and stung him to his fall with one or two quick sentences that seemed
-cogent enough at the time; the appeal had been to shame, and to what was
-due the concern that had honoured him, and to other things of that kind;
-in any case, it had all been like lashing a horse that hesitates before
-a hurdle. And he had leaped it--oh, God, he thought to himself, this
-cad against his mother! He had leaped it. And then the slumbering
-passion that had sprung anew to life within him--not passion perhaps,
-nor yet appetite either--but a kind of personal devil that had tangled
-its will all up with his own, and had seemed to laugh at his feeble
-struggling, and to exult like one who had won again an unforgotten
-victory, running riot in fiendish glee since his prowess had prevailed
-once more. Harvey held his hands to his burning brow as he recalled the
-pitiful resistance that had followed; he could feel the ever-tightening
-grasp again, like the relentless coils of the sea-monsters he had read
-about so often; he recalled how his soul had fluttered its poor protest,
-like some helpless bird, against this cruel hand that was bound to have
-its will with it--and how struggle and promise and pledge and prayer had
-all seemed to be in vain.
-
-He thought, too, but only for a moment--he could not, would not longer
-dwell upon it--of the shameful peace he had found at last; the peace of
-the vanquished; such peace as servile souls enjoy, for it can be
-purchased cheap--and the evil memory of it all surged over him like
-hissing waves. Nearly a week had followed, such a week as any mother,
-bending above the cradle of her child, might pray God to--
-
-But this was like groping in a morgue--and it must stop. He rose half
-erect from his bed, shaking himself like one who tries to clamber back
-from the slough of evil dreams. Just at this moment a knock came to the
-door; his soul leaped towards the sound--it was a human touch at least,
-thank God, and he needed some such Blucher for such a Waterloo.
-
-"Come in," he said huskily, lest reinforcement of any sort whatever
-might escape.
-
-And she came. Without a word, but her whole being fragrant of sympathy
-and love, she moved unhesitatingly towards the bed. She caught, as she
-came nearer, the fateful fumes. And she knew--the most innocent are the
-most sensitive to the breath of sin--but her heart only melted with a
-tenderer compassion, her arms outstretched in yearning, taking the
-stalwart frame into what seemed to him like the very guardianship of
-God.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," the voice thrilling with the melody of love; "oh, my
-brother."
-
-He clung closer to her, without speaking.
-
-"Tell me, Harvey--won't you tell me?" He could feel the care-wrung
-bosom heaving.
-
-Still no word.
-
-"We've never had any secrets, brother--won't you tell me, Harvey?"
-
-"You know," after a long pause.
-
-Still silence. Why did she breathe so fast?
-
-"Don't you know, Jessie?"
-
-Silence long--"Yes, I know," she said, "and I never loved you as I love
-you now."
-
-Then the flood-gates were rolled back and the tide burst forth. Oh, the
-luxury of it; the sweetness of it--to feel, nay, to know, that there was
-one life that clung to him, trusted him, loved him, through all the
-waste and shame! And the blessed relief it gave; to tell it all,
-keeping nothing back, blaming no other--not even Oliver--breathing out
-the story of the struggle and the overthrow and the humiliation and the
-anguish. And in that hour Hope, long absent and aloof, came back and
-nestled in his heart again. On he went, the story long and intimate and
-awful, coming closer and closer by many and circuitous routes to the
-very soul of things, hovering about the Name he almost dreaded now to
-speak, yet yearned with a great longing to pronounce; his soul was
-crying out for all that was behind his mother's name, the comfort and
-sympathy and power which he felt, dimly but unconquerably, could not be
-stifled in a distant grave.
-
-"Do you think she knows?" he asked at last, in a tone so low that even
-Jessie could scarcely hear.
-
-They could catch the sound of the wind upon the grass as they waited,
-both waited. "Yes," as she trembled closer, "yes, thank God."
-
-He started so suddenly as to frighten her. The conflict-riven face
-peered into hers through the dark.
-
-"What?" he asked sternly. "What did you say?"
-
-"I think she knows," the calm voice answered. "I'm sure God knows--and
-it makes it easier."
-
-He held her out at arm's length, still staring at her through the gloom.
-"What?--I thought sorrows were all past and over--for her," the words
-coming as a bitter questioning.
-
-Jessie's face, serene with such composure as only sorrow gives, was held
-close to his own. "We cannot tell," she whispered low; "that is between
-her and God--they both know."
-
-He struggled silently with the deep meaning of her words.
-
-"You see," sweet girlishness in the voice again, "you see, Harvey, they
-know what's farther on--oh, brother, brother dear, it'll be better yet,"
-her voice breaking now with an emotion she could control no longer; "it
-won't always be like this, Harvey--you won't do it any more, will you,
-brother?" sobbing as she buried her face beside his own. "We've had so
-much trouble, Harvey--the joy's only been the moments, and the sorrow's
-been the years--and we got mother safe home," the quivering voice went
-on, "and I thought we'd follow on together--and--some day--we'd find our
-father. And you won't make it all dark again, will you, Harvey? You'll
-fight--and I'll fight--we'll fight it out together, Harvey. It seems
-nothing now, what we had before--I mean, it doesn't seem a bit hard just
-to be poor--if we can only keep each other, Harvey," and the poor
-trembling form, so long buffeted by life's rude billows, clung to the
-only shelter left her, her soul outbreathing its passionate appeal.
-
-There was more of silence than of speech while they waited long
-together. He could feel the beating of the brave and trustful heart
-beside his own; this seemed to bring him calm and courage. In a
-mysterious way, she seemed to link his wounded life anew to all the
-sacred past, all the unstained days, all the conflict for which he had
-had strength and to spare, all the holy memories that had drifted so far
-from him now, a yawning gulf between.
-
-"Won't you come home with me, Harvey?" she said at length.
-
-"Why?"
-
-"Well, perhaps it would help us both. I was going to ask you to come
-anyhow--for one thing, I wanted you to help Mr. Borland," she added
-quickly, glad of the fitting plea. "He's going to run for mayor, you
-know--and I thought you'd like to do what you can."
-
-Harvey smiled. "I guess my own contest will give me enough to do," he
-said rather bitterly. "It was good of you to ask me, Jessie--but I'll
-stay on my own battlefield," his lips tightly shut.
-
-A long silence reigned again. "Look," he cried suddenly, "it's getting
-light."
-
-Jessie turned and looked. And the wondrous miracle crept on its mystic
-way; healing, refreshing, soothing, rich with heavenly promise and aglow
-with heavenly hope, telling its great story and bidding every benighted
-heart behold the handiwork of God, the silent metaphor was uttering
-forth the lesson of the returning day. For the new heaven and the new
-earth were appearing, fresh with unspotted beauty, recurring witnesses
-to the regenerating power of the All-sanguine One.
-
-"It's getting light," she echoed dreamily. "Do you remember that line,
-Harvey, mother used to love so much?"
-
-"No; what line?"
-
-"It's a hymn line," she answered softly. "'The dawn of heaven
-breaks'--I'm sure she sees this, too. Look at the clouds yonder, all
-gold and purple--it's going to be a lovely day."
-
-"It's going to be a new day," he said, gazing long in silence at the
-distant fount of light.
-
-
-
-
- *XXIX*
-
- _*HOW DAVID SWEPT THE FIELD*_
-
-
-"Go and wash your hands, Madeline, before you fix your father's tie. I
-little thought my daughter would ever come to this--filling those
-wretched kerosene lamps; it's bad enough to have to come down to lamps,
-without having to fill them," and Mrs. Borland sighed the sigh of the
-defrauded and oppressed.
-
-"Don't worry about me, mother; if you only knew how much better a girl's
-complexion shows with them than with the gas, you wouldn't abuse them
-so. All right, father, I'll put the finishing touches on you in a
-minute--what did you say was the hour for the meeting? I wish I could
-go--one of the hardest things about being a girl is that you can't go to
-political meetings," and Madeline's merry face showed how seriously she
-regarded the handicap.
-
-"Them lamps is all right, mother--they come of good old stock," and
-David regarded a tall, umbrageous one with something very like
-affection; "that there one was the last light that shined on my father's
-face," he added reminiscently, "an' I'm awful glad we kept it. The
-meetin's at half-past eight, Madeline. An' don't feel bad 'cause you
-can't go--us politicians has our own troubles," he continued with mock
-gravity; "it was this kind o' thing killed Daniel Webster--an' I'm not
-feelin' terrible peart myself. But I'm goin' to wear my Sunday choker,"
-he concluded cheerfully enough, holding his tie out to Madeline, the
-dimpled hands now ready for the important duty.
-
-"Tie it carefully, Madeline--if your father's going to resign, he should
-look his best when he's doing it," and Mrs. Borland surveyed the
-operation with a critical eye. "I'll warrant you Mr. Craig'll be dressed
-like a lord."
-
-"I ain't goin' to resign, mother--I'm only goin' to withdraw," David
-corrected gravely. "There's all the difference in the world between
-resignin' an' withdrawin'; any one can resign, but it takes a terrible
-smart man to withdraw. You've got to be a politician, like me, afore
-you know what a terrible difference there is between words like them;
-can't be too careful, when you're a politician--for your country's sake,
-you know. No, mother--no, you don't--I ain't goin' to wear that long
-black coat."
-
-"Oh, father," began Madeline.
-
-"But, David," his wife remonstrated, interrupting, "remember you're
-going to make a speech--and when would you wear it, if not to-night?
-I'm sure Mr. Craig'll have on the best coat he's got--and that tweed's
-getting so shabby."
-
-"I won't go back on it when it's gettin' old an' seedy," David retorted
-vigorously; "I know what that feels like myself. It stuck to me when I
-seen better days, an' I'm not goin' to desert it now--I ain't that kind
-of a man. An' if Craig wants to dress up like an undertaker, that's his
-funeral. Besides, a fellow's ideas comes easier in an old coat--an
-orator's got to consider all them things, you know. Confound this
-dickie, it won't stay down--I believe Madeline put 'east in it," as he
-smote his swelling bosom, bidding it subside.
-
-"I'm sorry you're not going to stand, David; I believe you'd be elected
-if you'd only run. I always hoped you'd be the first mayor of
-Glenallen--let me just brush that coat before you go," and Mrs. Borland
-fell upon it with right good-will.
-
-"Words is funny things," mused David, as he suffered himself to be
-turned this way and that for the operation; "'specially with orators an'
-politicians. If a fellow stands, that means he's runnin'--don't scrape
-my neck like that, mother," ducking evasively as he spoke. "It's
-somethin' like what I heard a fellow say at the Horse Show; he says,
-'the judges look a horse all over--them fellows don't overlook nothin','
-says he. No, I ain't goin' to stand, mother; nor I won't run, neither.
-I'll jest sit down. You see, a fellow that lives in a cottage this size,
-there ain't nothin' else for him to do--not unless he's a fool. Don't
-brush my hat like that, mother; you're skinnin' it--what did it ever do
-to you? Well, good-bye, mother; I'm a candidate now--but I'll only jest
-be a man when I get back. I won't even be an orator, I reckon.
-Good-bye, Madeline--wrap that there black coat up in them camp-fire
-balls," he directed, nodding towards the rejected black.
-
-"I'm going with you as far as the gate, father; you've got to have some
-kind of a send-off."
-
-"That's all right, daughter; welcome the comin', part the speedin'
-guest, as the old proverb says."
-
-"Speed the parting guest, you mean, David," Mrs. Borland amended
-seriously.
-
-"Same thing, an hour after he's gone," David responded cheerily; "feed
-him'd be better'n either of 'em, to my way o' thinkin'," as he started
-forth on his momentous mission.
-
-
-Mrs. Borland was not far astray in her prediction. For when at length
-the two candidates--and there were but two--ascended the platform in the
-crowded hall, David's rival was resplendent in a new suit of which the
-far-descending coat was the most conspicuous feature. Mr. Craig had
-fitting notions as to what became the prospective mayor of a town which
-had never enjoyed such an ornament before.
-
-And his speech was almost as elongated as the garment aforesaid, largely
-composed of complacent references to the prosperity the town had enjoyed
-as the product of his own. Surreptitious hints to the effect that only
-the commercially successful should aspire to municipal honours were not
-wanting. "It's a poor assurance that a man can manage public affairs,
-if he can't look after his own successfully," he said, as David sat
-meekly listening; "and," he went on in a sudden burst of feeling,
-hastening to the conclusion of his speech, "I may, I think, fairly claim
-to have been a successful man. And I won't deny that I'm proud of it.
-But, fellow citizens, nothing in all this world could give me so great
-pride as to be elected the first chief-magistrate of this growing town.
-I've known something of life's honours," he declared grandiloquently,
-"and I've mingled some with the great ones of the earth; at least,"
-hesitating a little, "I did when I was a child. And just here I'll tell
-you a little incident that I can never refer to without feeling my heart
-beat high with pride." (Mr. Craig had no little fluency as a public
-speaker when he discoursed of things concerning himself.) "As many of
-you know, my father was a gentleman of leisure--and he travelled widely.
-Well, I can still recall one winter we spent in Spain--I was but a
-child--but I can remember being at a great public meeting in Madrid.
-Some members of the Royal family were there," he declared, as he paused
-to see the effect on the gaping sons of toil, "and I remember, as if it
-were but yesterday, how, when the Infanta was going down the aisle and I
-was standing gazing up into her face, she laid her hand upon my boyish
-head as she passed me. I'll not deny, fellow citizens, that that touch
-has been sacred to me ever since--but I say to the working-men before me
-to-night that I consider it a greater honour to hold the horny hand of
-the working-man, the hands that will mark the ballots that shall bring
-me the crowning honour of my life," and the candidate gathered up the
-folds of his spreading coat as he resumed his seat, smiling benignly
-down upon the rather unresponsive crowd.
-
-For many of his auditors were decidedly in the dark as to the source of
-this honour that had befallen him in ancient Spain.
-
-"What kind of a animal was that, Tom, that tetched him on the head?" one
-bronzed toiler asked of his companion as he still gazed, bewildered
-rather, on the reclining Mr. Craig. "Did he say a elephant--sounded
-summat like that anyhow, didn't it?"
-
-"No, no," the other answered, a little impatiently; "what would
-elephants be doin' at a public meetin'? He said 'twas a infantum--I
-heard him myself."
-
-"What's a infantum?" the first persisted earnestly.
-
-"Oh--well. Well, it's a kind of a baby--only it's feminine," he
-explained learnedly. "An' I think it's got somethin' to do wi' the
-cholery--don't talk, there's Mr. Borland gettin' up. Hurrah," he
-shouted, joining in the general chorus, and glad of this very opportune
-escape.
-
-David began very haltingly. Yet he could not but feel the cordiality of
-his welcome; and his glance, at first rather furtive and shy, became
-more confident as he gradually felt the ground beneath his feet. "I
-ain't much used to public speakin'," he started hesitatingly; "never
-made but one speech like this before. They were a little obstreperous
-when I began, but before I got through you could have--have heard a
-crowbar drop," he affirmed, to the delight of his audience. "I can't
-sling it off like my friend Mr. Craig, here; mebbe it's because I've not
-moved in them royal circles," he ventured as soberly as he could.
-"Though I think I've got him beat when it comes to rubbin' noses with
-the quality. I've done a little in that line myself--when I was a little
-shaver, too. None o' them royal folks ever patted me on the head--but I
-threw up all over Abe Lincoln once. Old Abe used to stop at my father's
-in Peoria when he was ridin' the circuit," David explained carefully;
-"an' once he picked me up--I was jest a baby--an' threw me up to the
-ceilin'; then I done the same when I came down--too soon after dinner,
-you see," he added, his words lost in the mirth that stormed about him.
-"But other ways, I ain't what you'd call a successful man, I reckon," he
-went on, the quotation obvious. "I've always been kind o' scared, ever
-since I was a young fellow, for fear I'd be too successful--that is, the
-way some folks reckon success. I knew a terrible successful man in
-Illinois one time--he was that successful that he got richer than any
-other man in the county. An' he got so fond o' bein' successful that he
-nearly gave up eatin'--jest to be more successful. He got that fond of
-it that by and by he wouldn't even spend the money for gettin' his hair
-cut; he used to soak his head, in the winter, an' then stand outside
-till it froze stiff--then he'd break it off. He was a terrible
-successful man, to his way o' thinkin'," David went on gravely, the
-crowd rocking to and fro in a spasm of delight. "So I think, my
-friends, I'd better jest own up I've been a failure. An' I thank you,
-more'n I can say, for wantin' me to be your first mayor--but I'm goin'
-to sit back quiet an' give some better man the job. For one thing, I'm
-gettin' to be an old man--an' that's a disease that don't heal much.
-Besides, I'll have enough to do to make a livin'. I won't deny I used
-to wake up nights an' think it'd be fine to be the first boss o' the
-whole town; but I reckon it ain't comin' my way--it ain't intended to be
-wove into my web, by the looks o' things. But I thank you for--for your
-love," David blurted out, vainly searching for a better word. "An' what
-kind o' gives me a lump in my throat, is the way I see how the men that
-used to work for me is the loyalest to me now. That's terrible rich
-pay--an' I can stand here to-night an' say, afore God an' man, that I've
-tried to be more a friend than a boss. Your joys has been my joys, an'
-your sorrows has been my sorrows," his voice quivering a little as he
-spoke the gracious words; "an' I ain't disgraced--if I did get beat in
-business. This here's far sweeter to me now than if it'd come my way
-when I was livin' in the big house, wadin' round knee-deep in clover.
-It's when a fellow's down he loves to find out how many true friends
-he's got; any old torn umbrella's just as good as a five dollar
-one--till the rain's peltin' down on him--an' then he knows the
-difference. So I can't do nothin' but thank you all, an' tell you how
-glad you've made me. I'll be all right," he concluded with heroic
-bearing, "I'll get my bite an' my sup, an' I'll go down to my rest in
-peace; an' I'm richer--far richer than I ever thought. It's friends that
-make a fellow rich; an' I intend keepin' them as long as I live--an'
-after, too," he concluded, turning from his chair to add the words,
-electrical in their effect.
-
-Then came a scene, such a scene as gladdens the heart of but one man in
-a generation. All sorts and conditions of men joined in the storm of
-protest, refusing to permit David to withdraw his name. Many, mostly
-toil-stained working-men, struggled for the floor. Testimonies came
-thick and fast, volunteered with glowing ardour.
-
-"He never used to pass my little girl on the street without givin' her a
-nickel or a dime--most always a dime," a burly blacksmith roared, his
-voice as powerful as his muscle.
-
-"Mr. Borland kept me on when times was hard," an old man proclaimed in a
-squeaky voice; "he kept me mowin' the grass four times a week, when
-everythin' was burnt up wi' the drooth."
-
-"He sent my little boy to the Children's Hospital in the city," another
-informed the thrilling multitude; "an' now he can run like a deer--it
-was hip-disease."
-
-"He sat up two nights hand-runnin' with Jake Foley when he had ammonia
-in both lungs," imparted one of the lustiest of David's former workmen,
-"an' the next day they found ten dollars in a sugar jug; an' when they
-axed him if he done it he said they wanted to insult him--said it was
-the same as axin' a man if he'd been tastin'. But we ain't all fools,"
-concluded the witness, his indignant eulogy cheered to the echo.
-
-After a valiant struggle the chairman secured order, Mr. Craig looking
-on with the expression that children wear when they see their tiny craft
-being borne out to sea. The noble electors demanded a vote; which, duly
-taken, voiced the overwhelming desire that David should be their man.
-Whereupon Mr. Craig, not slow to remark the signs of the times,
-possessed himself of a very imposing hat and made as if to leave the
-platform, the crowd suddenly subsiding as it became evident he had a
-word to say before retiring.
-
-"I'm done with municipal life from this time on," he declared hotly, as
-quiet was restored. "I'm not going to enter the lists with a man that
-has proved--that hasn't proved--with David Borland," he concluded,
-floundering. "If the town can do without me, I guess I can do without
-the town."
-
-"You'd better go and travel abroad in them foreign parts, an' mebbe----"
-a voice from the audience began to advise.
-
-"That's mean," David cried above the returning din; "that's mean--sit
-down, Mr. Craig," turning with a grace even those who knew him best
-would hardly have thought he could command.
-
-"I withdraw," Mr. Craig shouted hotly.
-
-"But don't go yet," David pleaded in the most unconventional voice. "I
-don't like to see a man withdrawin' that way." Somewhat mollified, Mr.
-Craig resumed his seat.
-
-Loud demands for a speech finally brought David to his feet again.
-"Well, friends," he began, "I'm all used up. I never expected nothin'
-like this--an' I don't hardly know what to say. But I can't--I jest
-can't refuse now," he said, his words lost in a mighty cheer. "I didn't
-know you all felt that way--so much. An' I believe I'm gladder for--for
-two people that ain't here to-night," he said in a low, earnest voice,
-"than for any other reason in the world. An' I'll--I'll take it--if Mr.
-Craig here'll help me," suddenly turning towards his rival of a moment
-before. "He knows lots more about them things than me," moving over to
-where he sat, "an' if he'll promise to help, we'll--we'll run the show
-together."
-
-There being now no other candidate, the returning-officer declared Mr.
-Borland the first mayor; and the vanquished, yielding to the great soul
-that challenged him, took the other's hand in his.
-
-
-
-
- *XXX*
-
- _*A JOURNALIST'S INJUNCTIONS*_
-
-
-"I don't believe we'll ever find him, Harvey. We have so little
-clue--and almost all we can do is wait." Jessie sighed; her life had
-had so much of waiting.
-
-"That's the hard part of it," her brother answered, "but what else can
-we do; it does seem hard to think one's own father is living somewhere,
-and yet we may live and die without ever seeing him. I've tried all the
-poor little ways I can--but they're so ineffectual. Yet I don't think
-there's ever a day my mind doesn't go out to him. Mother said,
-though--she said he'd come back some day."
-
-"What did she mean?" Jessie asked eagerly.
-
-"I don't know," said Harvey. "That is, I don't know just what was in
-her mind. And she told me about his--his weakness," the brother's face
-flushing with the words. "And if I ever succeed enough--if I ever get
-rich enough, I mean--I'll begin a search everywhere for him; she said no
-father ever loved his children more," and Harvey's eyes were very
-wistful as they looked into his sister's.
-
-Jessie was silent a while. "You're--you're going to succeed, aren't
-you, brother?" she said, timidly. "If father ever does come
-back--he'll--he'll find we've--conquered, won't he, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey's answer was very slow in coming. Finally he reached out and
-took his sister's hand; the words rang hopefully.
-
-"I feel somehow, I don't know why, Jessie, but I feel somehow as if I
-were just at the turning of the tide. Nobody'll ever know what a
-fearful fight it's been--but I don't think I'll have to struggle like
-this much longer. It's like fighting in the waves for your life--but I
-think it's nearly over. I don't want you to go home again for a little,
-Jessie."
-
-"What do you mean, Harvey? Do you mean anything particular's going to
-happen?"
-
-He hesitated. "I don't know--but I think so. I've always had a feeling
-to-morrow'd be a better day than yesterday. I've always felt as if
-something lay beyond; and when I reached it--and passed it, everything
-would be different then."
-
-There are few who know it--but the uncertainty of life is life's
-greatest stimulus. That is, the sense of further possibilities,
-unexpected happenings, developments not to be foreseen. This is true of
-the poor, the enslaved, the broken-hearted; it is no less true of the
-caressed of fortune and the favourites of fate. The veil that hides
-to-morrow's face is life's chiefesf source of zest, not excepting love
-itself. Men's hearts would break if they could descry the plain beyond
-and search its level surface to the end; wherefore the All-wise has
-broken the long way to fragments, every turn in the road, the long,
-winding road, a well-spring of hope and expectation. The most dejected
-heart, proclaim its hopelessness as it may, still cherishes a secret
-confidence that things cannot always thus remain; downcast and
-tear-bedimmed, those eyes are still turned towards the morrow, or the
-morning, or the spring-time--for by such different symbols God would
-teach us how ill He brooks monotony.
-
-Especially is this true of one who struggles with his sin. Beaten again
-and again, vows turned to shame and resolutions to reproach, conscience
-and will trodden under foot of appetite, the wearied warrior still
-trusts that to-morrow will turn the battle from the gate. Something
-will turn up; if he could but get a fresh start, or if he could escape
-from boon companions, or if he were once braced up a bit, or if this did
-not worry and that beset--all these varied tones does Hope's indomitable
-voice assume. Sad and pitiful enough, we say; and we smile at what we
-call the weakness of poor humanity--but it all bears witness to that
-hopeful anguish which is bred of manifold temptations; it is the earnest
-expectation of the creature waiting for the manifestation of the sons of
-God.
-
-
-"Not enough snap about any of this stuff, I tell you, Simmons." The
-time was an hour and a half after Harvey had bidden Jessie, again Miss
-Farringall's willing guest, good-bye, and gone forth to his work until
-the midnight. The words were those of Mr. Timothy Crothers, city editor
-and director in chief of the _Morning Argus_. Mr. Crothers had taken
-off his collar an hour before, which was silently accepted by the staff
-as a storm-signal of the most accurate kind. Cold let it be without or
-hot, Mr. Crothers' sanctum soon became a torrid region when once he had
-removed his neck apparel--and Harvey looked up with more of expectation
-than surprise, having already witnessed the divestiture.
-
-"It makes a man hot under the collar," Mr. Crothers pursued wrathily,
-giving a phantom jerk in the neighbourhood of his neck, "to have stuff
-like this brought in to him; it's as dry as Presbyterian preaching."
-
-"Isn't it true, Mr. Crothers?" Harvey asked, calmly opening his knife
-and applying it to an exhausted pencil. "That's the first quality for
-news, isn't it?"
-
-"First qualities be hanged," quoth Mr. Crothers contemptuously. "And it
-isn't news at all--it's chloroform. Nothing's news that doesn't make
-people sit up; you'll never make a newspaper man till you learn how to
-spice things up--lots of pepper, red pepper at that. A paper that can't
-make 'em sneeze will never earn its salt."
-
-"Are you referring to the report I wrote of the game with the Scotch
-bowlers, Mr. Crothers?" Harvey enquired, nodding towards a confused
-cluster of well-scrawled pages on the table.
-
-"Yes, mostly that; you don't make the thing bite. It's nearly all about
-how they played--and we don't get twenty bowlers here from Scotland
-every year."
-
-"About how they played!" echoed Harvey. "What else is there?"
-
-"Everything else. Nobody cares a fig about how they played. Serve up
-something about the Johnnies themselves--something real interesting.
-That's the whole thing. Now, for instance, look at some of this other
-stuff," and Mr. Crothers took a chair close to Harvey, settling down to
-business; "here you have an item about a law being enforced by the
-Government, to provide that all dangerous lunatics must be confined in
-asylums. Don't you see what's the proper thing to say about that?"
-
-"No," said Harvey. "It strikes me that's an occasion for saying mighty
-little."
-
-"Nothing of the sort. It's a bully fine chance to say that this means
-the organ across the way will lose its editor. Everybody'll enjoy that,
-don't you see?"
-
-"The editor won't," said Harvey.
-
-"Of course, he won't--that's just the point. And here's another
-case--about the Hon. Mr. Worthing being struck by a street car. I
-notice you have him sitting up already. That won't do; a paper that
-cures them as quick as that won't be able to pay its office-boy soon.
-Of course, it's true enough, I dare say--he's probably playing billiards
-in his home, with a trained nurse answering the front door; like enough,
-he's sitting up all night going over his accident policies. But we've
-got to have him bandaged to the teeth--the public loves lots of arnica
-and sticking plaster--and he's struggling for consciousness--and he's
-got to be crying out every now and then as if he were being ground to
-powder; and his wife's going into swoons and coming out of them like a
-train running tunnels in the Rockies. Besides, we've got to lambaste
-the Company; the street-car line is our municipal
-assassin--Moloch--Juggernaut--all that sort of thing. But both those
-words should be in--and you can't use words like that if their victim's
-going to be down street to-morrow."
-
-"You should have a staff of novelists," suggested Harvey.
-
-"And here--here's a capital illustration of what I mean," Mr. Crothers
-hurried on, ignoring the innuendo. "I see Rev. Dr. Blakeley comes out
-with the announcement that there's no such place as hell--do you know
-what I'd say there, Simmons?"
-
-"You'd say you had no objections, I should think," Harvey's face
-lighting with unfamiliar merriment.
-
-"I wouldn't--the public doesn't care a tinker's malediction whether I
-object or not. There's a great chance there for a civic stroke--I'd say
-this information throws us back on Blankville," and Mr. Crothers named
-with much contempt a rival city fifty miles away. "It's little gems
-like that, that make a paper readable. I see a fellow in that same city
-was arrested for kissing girls on the street; then he was examined and
-found insane. Well, the thing to say there, is, that any one who had
-ever seen their girls would have known the man was crazy. News is like
-food, Simmons--everything depends on how it's prepared; nobody likes it
-raw."
-
-"But what about that game with the Scotchmen?" Harvey ventured, inwardly
-rather chagrined with the verdict on his handiwork.
-
-"Well, you've got it chuck full of points about the game--and that's no
-good. It's got to be interesting. You've got to give it a human touch.
-There's one of the Scotch bowlers, for instance, old Sanderson from
-Edinburgh--they say he's worth eleven millions. Well, I'm told there's
-an old fellow that sweeps out a little struggling church on Cedar
-Street--he's its caretaker--and I'm told he used to go to school with
-Sanderson. Now, it's the simplest thing in the world to have that old
-geezer come around to the green with his feather duster in his hand--and
-Sanderson stares at him a minute; then he recognizes him all of a
-sudden, and the old dodgers fall to and hug each other like two old
-maids. And have them both weep--especially Sanderson, because he's
-rich. And some of those other millionaires should go off to the edge of
-the lawn and blow their nose--you understand--the human touch, as I
-said. Make Sanderson go home with the old geezer for supper; might just
-as well--it wouldn't hurt him."
-
-"Sanderson wouldn't relish the caretaker's bill of fare, I'm afraid,"
-Harvey said significantly.
-
-"I guess you're right. And that brings me back to the thing I intended
-particularly to speak about. Those Scotchmen were properly beaten, as
-your score-card shows. But you don't give the real reason--and it's the
-kind of a reason everybody likes to hear about. For all you say, any
-one would think it was a mere matter of skill. Now, of course, we all
-know the reason--it's the moist time they were having that licked them.
-Most of them were full. Of course, it wouldn't do to put it that
-way--nobody'd enjoy that. But it's a capital chance for some delicate
-word-painting--keep it kind of veiled. Say something like this: 'our
-genial visitors drank deep of the spirit that was much in evidence
-throughout the game.' Or, better still: 'our genial visitors became
-more and more animated by their national spirit as the game wore
-on--some of them seemed quite full of it.' Or something like this: 'in
-liquid prowess our British cousins far outran us--if, indeed, that be
-the proper verb, since many of our friends were in various degrees of
-horizontality before the game was finished.' You see, a description
-like that appeals to the imagination--it's subtle--keeps readers
-guessing. Or this would be a fine way of putting it: 'it was evident
-yesterday that the little finger plays an important part in the ancient
-game of bowling on the green'--something like that. What I'm getting
-at, Simmons, is this--there's a great chance there for something
-humorous, and a journalist ought to make the most of it. What makes you
-look so glum, Simmons?--I don't believe you've got much sense of humour
-yourself."
-
-Harvey made no response. But his face was resting on his hand, and
-there must have been something in the plaintive eyes that engaged the
-attention of Mr. Crothers. He could hardly fail to see that all of a
-sudden Harvey had become deaf to his tuition; and, more remarkable, the
-care-worn face seemed but to grow graver as his monitor pursued his
-praise of mirth.
-
-"You're looking rather blue, Simmons," he added after a keen scrutiny,
-Harvey still remaining silent; "but that needn't prevent you writing
-lots of funny things. Some of the funniest things ever written, or
-spoken, have been done by people with broken hearts inside of them.
-Take an actor for instance--doubling up his audience, and his own little
-girl dying at home--most likely asking why father doesn't come, too;
-queer tangled world this, my boy, and nobody feels its pulse better than
-us fellows. Anything the matter, Simmons?" he suddenly enquired, for
-Harvey's lips were pale; and the chief could see a quiver, as of pain,
-overrun his face.
-
-Harvey's voice had a wealth of passion in it. "You'll have to get some
-other fellow to see the humorous side of--of--of that thing," he said.
-
-"What do you mean? What thing?" asked the dumfoundered Crothers.
-
-"That drink business--God! it's no comedy," and Crothers started as he
-saw the perspiration breaking out on Harvey's brow, his face a
-battlefield, his hands clenched as if he saw an enemy.
-
-Crothers indulged in a low whistle, his eyes never moving from Harvey's
-face. For the veteran journalist was no child. He knew the marks of
-strife when he saw them; experience partly, and sympathy still more, had
-fitted him to tell the difference between a man sporting in the surf and
-a man fighting for his life against the undertow. And one keen look
-into the depths of Harvey's outpouring eyes told him he was in the
-presence of a tragedy. He rose and put his hand on Harvey's shoulder;
-familiar with tender ways it was not--but it was a human hand, and a
-human heart had laid it there.
-
-"Simmons," he said, and the usually gruff voice had a gentle note;
-"Simmons, I know what you mean. May as well tell you straight, I've
-heard a little--and I've seen a little, too. And I should have known
-better than talk like that to you. And we all believe you'll win out
-yet, old chap. Now I'll tell you what I think you ought to do. You
-ought to go away somewhere for a little trip--there's nothing helps a
-man in a fight of this kind like having his attention taken up with
-something else. I'll keep your place open for you here--and if you
-could get a couple of congenial fellows to go off with you for a little
-holiday you'd be like a new man when you came back. Strictly
-water-waggon fellows, of course," he added with a smile. "I know it's a
-hard fight, my boy--but buckle right down to it. And you go right home
-now--you're played clean out, I can see that--and take a good sleep till
-noon. Then you skip out just as soon as you can arrange it and have a
-ripping good holiday; that'll set you up better than anything else.
-Good-night now--or good-morning, rather, I guess. And remember this
-above all things, Simmons--keep your mind diverted, always be sure and
-keep your mind diverted," with which advice Mr. Crothers rose to
-accompany Harvey to the door.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXI*
-
- _*THE TROUGH OF THE WAVE*_
-
-
-He was glad to be alone. Lesser conflicts crave the help and
-inspiration of human company; but there comes a time when a man knows
-the battle must be fought out alone against the principalities and
-powers that no heart, however strong or loving, can help him to
-withstand. For no other can discern his enemy but himself.
-
-Harvey turned with swift steps towards home. He thought of his waiting
-room, with everything that could contribute to self-respect and comfort;
-and of Miss Farringall, whose increasing devotion seldom failed to find
-a voice, no matter how late the hour of his return. But as he hurried
-along he marvelled at the strange craving that gnawed persistently
-within. The action of his heart seemed weak; his lips were parched; his
-hands were shaky, his nerves a-tingle, while a nameless terror, as if of
-impending ill, cast its shadow over him. And through it all burned the
-dreadful thirst, tyrannical, insistent, tormenting.
-
-Resolved to resist to the last, he was still pressing steadily on.
-Suddenly he stopped almost still, his eyes fixed upon a light in an
-upper window. His heart leaped as he saw a tall form pass between him
-and the lamp. For he recognized it, or thought he did. The room was
-Oliver's--that same Oliver as had goaded him to that fatal toast--and it
-was quite a common experience for that worthy to be playing host through
-the small hours of the morning. A sense of peril smote Harvey as he
-looked; yet, reflecting a moment, he assured himself that he would find
-around that brilliant light two or three whose blithe companionship
-would help to beat back the evil spirit that assailed him. A chat on
-matters journalistic, a good laugh, an hour or two of human fellowship
-would give him relief from this infernal craving. Besides, what hope for
-him if he could not resist a little temptation, should such present
-itself?
-
-So his resolve was quickly formed; putting his fingers to his mouth, a
-shrill whistle brought a familiar face to the window.
-
-"Jumping Jehoshaphat! is that you, Simmons?" was the exclamation that
-greeted Harvey as soon as he was recognized. "Come on up--we were just
-speaking of you. I'll be down to the door in less than half a minute."
-
-The allotted time had scarce elapsed when Palmer, for such was the name
-of the cordial blade--clerk in a mercantile house and friend to
-Oliver--was at the door. Taking Harvey's arm he guided him cheerfully
-through the somewhat dingy hall, ushering him into a rather dishevelled
-room, in separate corners of which sat the hospitable Oliver and another
-boon companion, Scottie Forrester by name. Like Oliver, Scottie was in
-newspaper life; his apprenticeship had been served in Glasgow.
-
-"Brethren," Palmer said solemnly as they entered, "I know you're always
-glad when we can bring in any poor wanderer from the highways or byways.
-I want you to be kind to the stranger for my sake--he hasn't had
-anything to eat since his last meal."
-
-"Sit down, Simmons," directed Oliver. "Don't mind Palmer--he's
-farm-bred, you know, and he thinks it's a deuce of an achievement to sit
-up at night. He used to have to go to bed with the calves."
-
-"Now I sit up with the goats," rejoined the once rustic Palmer,
-producing a pipe and calmly proceeding to equip it. "But I ought to be
-in bed. I'm played out. I was so tired at dinner to-night I went to
-sleep over the salad course."
-
-"Oh, Lord," broke in Forrester; "hear him prattling about night
-dinners--and he never had anything but bread and molasses for supper on
-the farm. And hear him giving us that guff about the salad course, as
-if he was the son of a duke. If you'd lived in Glasgow, my boy, they'd
-have brought you to time pretty quick. A man's got to be a gentleman
-over there, I tell you, before he has evening dinners and all that sort
-of thing--did you drink out of the finger-bowls, Palmer?"
-
-"You needn't talk, Scottie," growled Oliver. "You write your letters at
-the Arlington--and you get your dinner for fifteen cents at Webb's, at
-the counter, with your hat on."
-
-"You're a liar," retorted Scottie, meaning no offense whatever. "I've
-got as good blood inside of me as any man in this city; my mother was
-born in Auchterarder Castle and----"
-
-"I wouldn't be found dead in a root-house with a name like that,"
-interrupted the agricultural Palmer. "Anyhow, I guess she was the
-cook--and what's more, nobody here cares what you've got inside of you.
-But there's poor Simmons--he's our guest--and he looks as if he hadn't
-put anything inside of him for a dog's age. Where's the restorative,
-Scottie? It's always you that had it last."
-
-Scottie arose and walked solemnly to a little cupboard in the wall.
-"I'll inform you, Mr. Simmons," he began gravely, his back still turned
-to the company, "that we're here for a double purpose. First, we were
-having a little intellectual conference on--on the rise and fall of the
-Russian empire, as a great authority put it. You see, we're a kind of a
-Samuel Johnson coterie--and this is a kind of a Cheshire Cheese. I was
-there once when I was in London."
-
-"He went to London with cattle," informed Oliver, striking a match--"he
-was a swine herd in Scotland."
-
-"And I'm Samuel Johnson," pursued Forrester, unruffled; "and Palmer,
-he's Boswell. And we have a great time discussing things."
-
-"Who's Oliver?" Harvey enquired with faint interest.
-
-"Oh, yes, I forgot him; Oliver's the cuspidor--you ought to be right in
-the middle of the room, Oliver," he continued amiably, turning round
-with a large black bottle in his hand. "And the other purpose we're
-here for, Mr. Simmons, is to celebrate Palmer's birthday. We don't know
-exactly how old he is--he's lied about his age so long that he's not
-sure himself. But this is his birthday, anyhow; and they sent him up a
-little present from the farm. It's a superior brand of raspberry
-vinegar, made by an aged aunt that's worth twenty thousand and won't
-die."
-
-"Stop your jack-assery, Forrester," broke in Palmer; "you can't fool
-Simmons--he's got his eye on the label."
-
-Which was true enough. Harvey's eye was gleaming, staring, like some
-pallid woodsman's when it catches the glare of an Indian's fire.
-
-"That's all right, Simmons," explained Forrester calmly; "the bottle
-happens to bear an honoured Glasgow name--and the liquid is worthy of
-it. There isn't a headache in a hogshead--try it and see."
-
-Harvey's lips were white and dry. "No, thank you, Forrester," he said
-in a harsh voice that sounded far away. "I won't take any."
-
-"Take a little for Palmer's stomach's sake--he's had enough."
-
-Harvey refused again. Destitute was his answer of all merriment or
-banter. He stood bolt upright, fixed as a statue, his eyes still on the
-big black thing Forrester was holding out in front of him. "Not any,
-Forrester," he said; "I don't want any, I tell you."
-
-"Let him alone, Scottie," interrupted Palmer. "Simmons is on the
-water-waggon, to-night anyhow--and besides, that stuff's a dollar and a
-half a quart."
-
-Forrester was about to comply when Oliver suddenly arose from his
-lounging position and shuffled out to where the two were standing. He
-had already familiarized himself with the bottle sufficiently to be in a
-rather hectoring mood.
-
-"Go and sit down, Forrester," he growled out; "I guess I'm the host
-here. And I don't blame Simmons for turning up his nose," he went on as
-he turned and opened a little cabinet--"poking a black bottle in front
-of a man as if he were a coal-heaver; we're not on the Glasgow cattle
-market," he added contemptuously, producing a couple of glasses and
-handing one to Harvey. "Here, Simmons, drink like a gentleman--and I'll
-drink with you." And the sweat came out on Harvey's forehead as the
-stuff poured out, gurgling enticingly as it broke from the bottle's
-mouth. "Here, this is yours; and we'll drink to the _Morning
-Argus_--it'll belong to you some day. I heard to-day it's going to
-change hands soon anyhow."
-
-The mention of the name lent a wealth of resolution to Harvey's wavering
-will. He recalled, his heart maddening at the memory, how Oliver had
-pressed this self-same toast before.
-
-"I won't, Oliver," he said, controlling himself. "I don't want any."
-
-"Come now, Simmons, don't be foolish; you've had a hard night's work,
-and you look all in--just a night cap to help you sleep."
-
-"Look here, Oliver," Harvey's voice rising a little, "I guess I know my
-own mind. I tell you I won't drink. I'm under promise. I'm bound over
-not to take anything; and I've got more at stake on it than I can afford
-to lose--so you may as well shut up."
-
-Oliver came a step nearer. "You can't bluff me, old man," he said
-through his teeth, his heavy eyes snapping. "And anyhow, I'll pay it,"
-he blustered, holding out the fuming glass, a leer of dogged cunning on
-his face. "I'll pay your stake, Simmons."
-
-"You go to hell," hissed Harvey, striking out wildly, one hand smashing
-the bottle in fragments to the floor, the other clutching Oliver by the
-throat; "you infernal blood-sucker," as he pressed him backward to the
-wall.
-
-Palmer and Forrester sprang towards the men; but before they were able
-to interfere, Harvey had hurled Oliver against the table, which crashed
-to the floor in a heap, Oliver mingling with the wreckage. While his
-guests were helping him to his feet, Harvey strode towards the door; the
-accursed fumes rose about him like evil spirits, importunate and deadly,
-clutching at the very heart-strings of his will.
-
-Pale and trembling, he turned when he reached the door. "Anything more
-to pay?" he muttered, nodding towards Oliver; "does he want to continue
-the argument?"
-
-Oliver made a stifled protest, but his friends united to declare that
-the debate was at an end. "Come back, Simmons," appealed Palmer; "don't
-let our little evening break up like this--Oliver's got no kick coming.
-Sit down."
-
-But Harvey uttered an inaudible malediction and slammed the door behind
-him. They could hear him finding his way along the unlighted hall.
-
-"You got what was coming to you, old chap," Palmer informed his host;
-"nobody's got any right to badger a fellow the way you did Simmons.
-It's worse than setting fire to a barn--you're a damned incendiary," he
-concluded, resuming the smoke that had been so effectually interrupted.
-
-While the debate, thus happily begun, went on its vigorous way, Harvey
-was walking aimlessly about the street, caring little whither his steps
-might lead him. After the first gust of excitement had subsided a new
-and delicious sense of victory possessed him. Not from having worsted
-Oliver--that was quite forgotten--but from having met and conquered his
-temptation. His breath came fast as he recalled, how stern and sore had
-the conflict been; but a kind of elation he had never known before
-mingled with the memory of it all. For he had won--and under the most
-trying circumstances--and he smiled to himself as he thought how he had
-passed through the ordeal. Its most hopeful feature was for the future;
-it was a pledge of how he might hope to prevail if the fight should ever
-be renewed. Reassured, he even fell to thinking of other things; of his
-promise to his mother--had she seen his struggle and gloried in his
-victory, he wondered; and of Jessie, faithful ally; and of his
-profession and his progress in it. He recalled, as though it had
-occurred long ago, Oliver's prediction that he would some day own the
-_Argus_--and his fierce anger towards Oliver abated a little. Yet all
-this was insignificant, he reflected, compared to the progress he was
-making along higher lines.
-
-But the elation did not last. Fatigue crept upon him. And he was
-chilled; he was hungry, too. Besides, the nervous strain had been a
-severe one, and the reaction was correspondingly acute. Gradually the
-tide ceased to flow, then stood stationary a moment--then began ebbing
-fast. And the sense of victory paled and died; the thrill of exultation
-passed away; the ardour of battle and of conquest chilled within him.
-And again his lips became parched, his hand again unsteady, his nerves
-again unstrung. And the dreadful thirst returned. To the swept and
-garnished house the evil spirit crept back with muffled tread, hopeful
-of a better tenure.
-
-The stoutest castle is easily taken if its lord has ceased to watch. Or
-if he be absent, the capture is easier still--especially if he be gone
-to feast on former battle fields where his right arm brought him
-victory.
-
-Wherefore Harvey's second struggle was brief and pitiful; the enemy had
-caught him unawares. And more shrill and impatient than before was the
-whistle that sounded soon again beneath Oliver's still lighted window.
-And his welcome was not less cordial, Oliver himself taking the leading
-part.
-
-"What in thunder's the matter, Simmons?" enquired Palmer; "you look as
-if you'd been through a threshing machine."
-
-Harvey paid no attention. His blood-shot eyes looked about the room,
-searching for something. His hand was shaking, and every now and then he
-ran his tongue over the withered lips; the blood seemed to have left his
-cheek.
-
-"I've changed my mind," he began huskily; "I'm not well--and I'll take
-some of that, if you don't mind. Just a little--but I've got to get
-braced up or I'll collapse."
-
-Forrester whistled. "The spring's gone dry, old man," he said. "I'm
-cruel sorry--but it was that little gesture of yours that did it."
-
-Harvey's eyes looked around imploringly. The pungent fumes were still
-rising from the floor, goading his appetite to madness.
-
-"I'm afraid that's right, Simmons," added Oliver; "there's a teaspoonful
-there in the heel of the bottle--but it's not enough to make a swallow."
-
-"Where is it?" muttered Harvey, starting to where the broken fragments
-lay.
-
-He found it; and even those who had tried so hard to overbear him a
-little while before cast pitying glances as he stooped down, trembling,
-lifting the bottom of the bottle in both his shaky hands, lifting it
-carefully and holding it to his lips till the last drop was drained.
-
-It was but a few minutes till he resumed the quest. "Must be some more
-lying round somewhere," he said, with a smile that was pitiful to see.
-
-"Afraid not," said Oliver; "that was the last."
-
-"What's in that cabinet?" Harvey urged, rising to his feet.
-
-"No go, Simmons, I'm afraid," muttered Forrester; "if there was any
-round, Oliver'd know it--when he gives up, there ain't any."
-
-Harvey got up and went over to Palmer, throwing his arm about his
-shoulder. "I say, old man," he began, controlling his voice as best he
-could, "you don't know how bad I'm feeling. And you've got a flask with
-you, haven't you, Palmer?--I wouldn't ask you, only I'm feeling so
-tough. Had a hard time of it in the office to-night."
-
-Palmer looked hard at him. "If I had a tankful I wouldn't give you a
-drop, Simmons," he said.
-
-Harvey winced. And he stood looking into Palmer's face like a guilty
-man, his eyes gradually turning away in confusion before the other's
-searching gaze. A hot flush of shame, not yet unfamiliar flowed over
-cheek and brow. But it was only for a moment--these better symptoms
-retreated before the flame that consumed him. "I'm going out," he said
-presently, his eyes turning heavily from one face to the other, his
-parched lips trembling.
-
-"If you've got to have it, I think I know a place we can get in--I'm
-sure I do," drawled Oliver, yawning. "But bed's the place for all of
-us."
-
-Harvey was all alive. "Come on, old chap," he exclaimed eagerly;
-"that's a good fellow--here's your hat. It won't take long," he added
-assuringly, moving towards the door.
-
-There was little reluctance on Oliver's part. And a few minutes later
-the two went out together arm in arm, the victor and the vanquished--but
-vanquished both. It was Harvey who clung close, almost fondly, to the
-other; no memory of Oliver's share in his undoing, no hatred of the
-assassin-hand tempered the flow of fellowship between them now.
-
-
-The morning had not yet come. But passion's gust was over and sated
-appetite refused.
-
-"I'm going home," said Harvey, his voice unnatural, his feet unsteady.
-
-"Not yet," said Oliver--"let's make a night of it."
-
-"A night of it!" exclaimed the other bitterly. "Good God, Oliver!"
-
-"Come on," said his companion doggedly. "Come with me--we'll both see
-the thing through."
-
-"Come where?" said Harvey.
-
-"You'll see. Come down this alley here--wait a minute."
-
-Three or four minutes had elapsed; they were still walking.
-
-"There," said Oliver, standing still; "can you see that light?--there,
-in that upper window."
-
-He saw it. It gleamed sinister, significant, through the mirk; blacker
-than the deepest darkness was its baneful light.
-
-"What about it?" said Harvey.
-
-Oliver said something in a low voice; then he laughed.
-
-Simmons turned full on his companion. The moon was setting, but its
-latest beams still shed a fitful light. And they showed Harvey's face
-flushed and worn, the eyes unnatural in their heaviness and gloom. But
-there was a strange redeeming light in them as they fixed themselves on
-Oliver, the light of indignant scorn; any who had known his mother would
-have recognized something of the old-time light that had glowed from her
-face before the darkness veiled it.
-
-Harvey's heavy eyes flashed as he spoke. "Oliver," he said, and the
-tone was haughty, old-time pride struggling against fearful odds as the
-sun writhes its way through the mist; "Oliver, if you're going to the
-devil, you can go alone. I'm not quite gone yet, thank God. I'm a good
-many kinds of a fool, I know--but I'm not that kind--I'm not a sot. And
-Oliver," coming closer up to him, "I'll admit I'm as much to blame for
-to-night as you are--but we're done, Oliver, now. We're done with each
-other--forever. D'ye hear, Oliver?" as he turned and started back up
-the shadowy lane.
-
-Oliver blinked after him a moment; then he went on towards the light,
-into the darkness.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXII*
-
- _*HARVEY'S UNSEEN DELIVERER*_
-
-
-The succeeding day was melting softly into dusk.
-
-While it may be true that none can utterly affirm, it is equally true
-that none can finally deny, the ministry of the dead. Probably none
-altogether rejects the thought except those who disbelieve in the
-immortality of the soul. For if death be but the disenthrallment of the
-spirit, and its engraftment on the infinite, how thus should its noblest
-passion cease or its holiest industry suffer interruption? We may not
-know; though mayhap we may still receive. If beneficiaries we are of
-the unforgetting dead, we are unconscious of it--and this too shall
-swell the sum of that great surprise that awaits us in eternity.
-
-Some unconscious influence had brooded about Harvey through the day.
-Except for a few brief minutes with Miss Farringall and Jessie, during
-which neither had spoken much, the long hours had been spent alone. And
-the solitude had seemed to teem at times; with what, he scarcely knew.
-Shame and discomfiture and fear had thronged his heart, and the day was
-one of such humiliation as cloistered monk might rejoice to know. Not
-that he was conscious of the process, nor did he even inwardly call it
-by any such name as that. But he knew that he had been beaten--beaten,
-too, in the very hour that had thrilled with the confidence of victory.
-More than once, recounting his defects one by one, and recalling his
-frequent vows, was he on the verge of self-contempt; against this he
-fought as if for life.
-
-As the day wore slowly by, the struggle deepened. A strange
-heart-chilling fear of the night began to possess him. Looking from the
-window of his room, he could see the westering sun and the lengthening
-shadows; both seemed to point the hour of returning conflict.
-
-He tried in vain to dismiss this strange misgiving. The sun crept slowly
-closer to the glowing west, and its silent course seemed to have
-something ominous about it, solemnly departing as if it knew the peril
-of the crafty dark. He tried to read, but his eyes slipped on the
-words. Turning to one of his dead mother's letters, he sought the
-comfort of the loving words; but he found no shelter there, and the
-relentless thirst kept deepening in his heart. Then he tried to recall
-some of the gayer scenes of departed college days; their mirth was
-turned to ashes now.
-
-Finally, and with a bounding heart, like a fugitive whose eyes descry
-some long-sought place of refuge, he bethought himself of the Bible his
-mother had hidden in his trunk when first he had left her care.
-Reverently, passionately, hopefully he made his way to many a tree of
-life within it--but its shade seemed riven above him and the fierce heat
-still searched his soul.
-
-With a stifled cry he sprang from the bed, despairing of reinforcement
-elsewhere than in his own beleaguered heart. He would fight it out,
-though the fight should kill him. The strange sinking fell again upon
-his spirit and the unearthly fires burned anew within him. His lips
-again were parched and his shaking hand all but refused to do the
-bidding of his will. He had not tasted food throughout the day; yet the
-thought of food was intolerable. What tormented him most was the
-thought, presenting itself again and again, that if he had but the
-smallest allowance of stimulant the pain would be at an end and the
-threatened collapse averted. But he knew how false and seductive was
-the plea, and resisted. Yet what could he do?--this unequal conflict
-could not endure. The perspiration stood in beads upon his brow, though
-he was shaken with chills as by an ague. Defiant, his resolution rallied
-as he noted the symptoms of his weakness. A kind of grim anger gathered
-as he felt the deadly persistence of his enemy; and his step was almost
-firm as he walked to the door of his room. He locked it swiftly,
-putting the key in his pocket, stamping his foot as he turned away.
-
-This seemed to help him some. It made him feel at least that he had
-come to close quarters with his destroyer, shut up alone with his dread
-antagonist. Herein was the hopefulness of the situation, that he had
-come to recognize the strength of his enemy and the portent of the
-struggle. Had he been locked in the same room with a madman the
-situation could not have been more real.
-
-Suddenly a strange thing befell him. Some would explain it in terms of
-an overwrought nervous system, some in terms of a disordered fancy. It
-matters not. But Harvey heard, amid the wild tumult of that twilight
-hour--he heard his mother's voice. Only once it came--and the sweet
-notes slowly died, like the tones of some rich bell across a waste of
-waters--but he heard it and his whole soul stood still to listen. He
-caught its message in an instant; the whole meaning of it was
-wonderfully clear, and his heart answered and obeyed with instant
-gladness. For it seemed to point the way to rest, and victory, and
-healing.
-
-He glanced at his watch. There was just time to catch the train; and
-without pause or hesitation he unlocked the door and passed out into the
-street. A word to a servant, to allay wonder at his absence, was his
-only farewell.
-
-What greyhound of the seas is swift enough to outrun the greedy gulls
-that follow? And what heart, however swiftly borne, can escape its
-besetting sin? It may ascend up into heaven, or make its bed in hell, or
-take the wings of the morning, or plunge into the lair of darkness--but
-temptation never quits the chase. Thus was poor Harvey pursued as the
-bounding train plunged through the darkness towards his far-off boyhood
-home. Still the battle waged, and still the fangs of appetite kept
-groping for his heart and clutching at his will. But he endured as
-seeing the invisible; and the City of Refuge came ever nearer.
-
-As they came closer to Glenallen--when they were almost there--peering
-through the dark, he caught now and then a fleeting glimpse of the
-scenes of other days; fences that he had climbed; elms beneath whose
-shelter he had played; braes he had roamed and burns he had waded and
-brooks he had fished, he smiled, as the inward pain still smote him and
-the dreadful craving burned--it seemed all but impossible that life
-could have changed so much, the evening shadows threatening before its
-noon had come. And he felt, in a dim unreasoning way--what other men
-have felt--as if he had been somehow tricked out of the sweetness of
-youth, its glory faded and its fruitage withered before he had known
-they were there.
-
-The streets of his native town were hushed as he hurried towards his
-home. Nearing the familiar scene, he paused, standing still. He felt a
-kind of awesome fear and his head was bowed as he crept close to the
-humble door. Suddenly he lifted his eyes, survey ing the
-well-remembered outlines through the gloom. And suddenly they seemed
-transfigured before him, speaking out their welcome in tender silence as
-though they recognized the heart-sore wanderer. It was with little
-difficulty that he effected an entrance, a half-hidden window in the
-rear yielding readily.
-
-The stillness within almost overcame him. Yet there must have been holy
-power in it; for the evil spirit that had haunted him seemed to retreat
-before it; and his groping eyes fell now on this familiar thing and now
-on that, each an ally to his struggling soul. He could see but dimly,
-but they were all beautiful, each telling some story of the sacred days
-that would come no more. He felt his way through the little hall into
-the room where he had last looked upon his mother's face. He stood
-where he had stood before--and he looked down. Long musing, he turned
-and made his way up-stairs. As he passed the half-open door on his way,
-he could see the shadowy outline of the little store, as Miss Adair had
-left it for the night, the petty wares consorting ill with the
-significance of the hour. Yet the nobility of all for which it stood
-broke afresh upon him.
-
-Ascending the creaking stairs, he stopped and listened. It seemed as if
-some voice must speak--for silence like to this he had never known
-before. But all was still, wondrously still--this was the silence of
-death. He glanced into Jessie's room; relics of her sore toil were
-still scattered about; all was as she had left it when she had started
-on her visit to the city.
-
-Then he entered his mother's room. With head bowed low and with
-noiseless step, as devout pilgrims invade some holy shrine, he passed
-within the door. Then he lifted his eyes--the night seemed to stay its
-hand--and he could see here and there traces of his mother's life, many
-of them undisturbed. An apron that she used to wear, folded now and
-spotless white, laid aside by Jessie's loving hands; a knitted shawl
-that had so often enclosed the fragile form; the unfinished knitting
-from which the needles should never be withdrawn. Then he gave a great
-start, muffling a cry--for he thought he saw a face. But it was his
-own, moving in shadowy whiteness as he passed the little mirror--he
-marvelled at his timidity amid such scenes of love.
-
-He sank on the bed and buried his face in his hands. He was trembling,
-yet not with fear. But something seemed to tell him that he was not
-alone; no tempter, no turgid appetite, no relentless passion assailed
-him now. He was safe, he felt, like some ancient fugitive falling
-breathless before a sacred altar--but he felt that he was not alone.
-Some unseen power seemed to be about him, an influence so gentle, a
-caress so tender, a keeping so holy as time could not provide. He did
-not seek to reason with the strange sensation, or to solve, or to
-define; but his soul lay open to the mystic influence in helplessness
-and hope, the ministry of the awful silence having its way with his
-broken and baffled life.
-
-Almost without knowing it, he rose and made his way to the little table
-by the window; something dark lay upon it. The touch told him in a
-moment what it was--his mother's Bible, that Jessie had begged him to
-leave for her. His hand trembled as he took it up; it opened of itself
-and he peered downward on the well-worn page. But it was dark, and he
-could only see enough to know that one particular verse was gently
-underscored. Fumbling for a match, he lit it and its glow fell upon the
-words:
-
-"Unto Him that is able to keep you from falling and to present you
-faultless."
-
-The message flashed upon his soul with the import of eternal hope. He
-closed the book violently, as if something might escape, and sank again
-upon the bed. He felt as if God Himself had spoken through the shadows
-and the silence. His face was again buried in his hands, but his heart
-was running riot with its exuberance of feeling, of purpose, of hope
-from far-off fountains fed. There gleamed before him a vision of the
-reality of it all, the real truth that a worsted heart may find strength
-somewhere higher up, away beyond this scene of human struggle--and that
-the most stained and wasted life might yet become a holy thing, again
-presented to the great God whose grace had saved it, a faultless life at
-last.
-
-Thus he sat, nor knew how long, while the regenerating moments flew. He
-was recalled by feeling something fall at his feet. Stooping, he picked
-it up; it was a letter, fallen from the leaves of the book he held. A
-brief search revealed a candle on a chair beside the bed. This he lit,
-holding the fitful flame above the missive now spread out before him.
-The letter was from his mother and addressed to him. A swift look at the
-date explained why it had never been sent--she had been busy with it
-when he had unexpectedly returned the night of Madeline's party. His
-eyes burned their way over the opening sentences, all uneven as they
-were, the unsteady hand having found its course as best it could. And
-the gentle epistle had come to a sudden close--the letter had never been
-completed. But his eyes were fixed in almost fierce intensity upon the
-last words--probably the last the dear hand had ever written. "And I'm
-praying, my son," thus ran the great assurance, "as I shall never cease
-to pray, that He will make His grace sufficient for you and that..."
-
-He arose, recalling where his mother was wont to pray. Had she not told
-him, and had Jessie not spoken of it often? Beside his own bed, he
-knew--there, where he once had slept the sleep of childhood in the
-innocent and happy days of yore; there had been her altar, where,
-kneeling before God, she had pleaded that the keeping and guidance of
-the Highest might be vouchsafed her absent son. Thither he turned his
-steps, his heart aflame within him; one hand still held his mother's
-Bible, the other the precious letter. And he laid them both before the
-Throne, sacred things, familiar to the all-seeing Eye, pledges of a
-faith that must not be denied.
-
-The silence still reigned about the bended form. But it was vocal with
-unspoken vows, the vows of a soul that unseen hands, wasted once and
-worn but radiant now and beautiful, had beckoned to the Mercy Seat. He
-could not see the bending face; he could not know the exultation of the
-triumphant one--but he knew that the dear spirit shared with him the
-rapture of that hour when his mother's prayers were answered, when his
-soul came back to God.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXIII*
-
- _*PLAIN LIVING AND HIGH THINKING*_
-
-
-The day slipped past in quiet solitude, marked by the peace of penitence
-and inward chastening; convalescence is the sweetest experience of the
-soul and the outlook to the eternal is its rest. Harvey felt in no
-hurry to leave the pavilion-home, thronged as it was with blessed
-memories. But when the evening fell, a curious eagerness quickened his
-steps towards David Borland's altered home. He had not visited it
-before. Drawing near, the first figure he descried was that of David
-himself, engaged in the very diminutive garden that lay beside the
-house. He had not noticed Harvey's approach. A shade of pain darkened
-the eye of the younger man as, unobserved, he took a keen survey of the
-older face. For not alone was David more thin and worn; his cheeks had
-lost their colour, pinched and pale, and it required no special
-acuteness to detect how changed he was from the robust David of former
-years. Suddenly lifting his head, Mr. Borland saw Harvey close at hand;
-he dropped the light tool he was holding, hurrying to greet the visitor.
-
-"You're as welcome as a registered letter," he cried in his old hearty
-way; "come on an' sit down--there's nothin' tastes so good in a new
-house as an old friend. I've been hungerin' for a mouthful of you. I
-was jest doin' a little work," he explained--"when a fellow's got to
-work hard, nothin' makes it so easy as doin' a little more. I'm goin'
-to raise some flowers," he went on, pointing to a tiny bed; "nothin'
-pays like flowers--it pays better than manufacturin', I think sometimes.
-Here, sit beside me on the bench," for David seemed willing to rest.
-"How's Jessie?" he asked presently, his general observations concluded.
-
-"Lovely," answered Harvey. "She's visiting Miss Farringall."
-
-"So I believe. They say Miss Farringall's lovely too, ain't she?"
-
-Harvey pronounced a eulogy.
-
-"She's an old maid, ain't she?"
-
-"I suppose some would call her that," was Harvey's rather deliberate
-reply.
-
-"Oh, that's all right," David assured him; "I don't mean no disrespect.
-Most old maids is reg'lar angels--with variations. I often tell the
-missus if I was ever left alone I'd probably marry again, out of respect
-for her--there's nothin' like an encore to show you've enjoyed the first
-performance--an' I always say I'd take an old maid. Of course, I might
-change my mind," David went on gravely; "most old fools does, takes up
-with some little gosling that ought to be in school. An' I've noticed
-how the fellows that yelps the loudest at the funeral begins takin'
-notice the soonest--they don't most gen'rally stay in long for repairs,"
-he concluded solemnly, scraping the clay from his boot-heel as he spoke.
-
-"If Miss Farringall's an old maid," Harvey resumed, "she's one of the
-nicest I ever knew--and one of the happiest too, I think."
-
-"Old maids is pretty much all happy," pronounced David, "that is, when
-they stop strugglin'--but most of 'em dies hard. They'd all be happy if
-they'd only do what I heard a preacher advisin' once. I was mad as a
-hatter, too."
-
-"What about?" asked Harvey wonderingly.
-
-"Well, I'll tell you. It was at a funeral in a church--last year, I
-think--an' after the service was over he came out to the front o' the
-pulpit. 'The congregation 'll remain seated,' says he, 'till the casket
-has went down the aisle; then the mourners will follow, an' the clergy
-'ll follow them. After that,' says he, 'after that, the congregation
-will quietly retire.' Quietly, mind you!" said David sternly; "did he
-think we was goin' to give three cheers for the corpse, I wonder?" and
-he looked earnestly at Harvey for approval of his indignation. "But
-I've often thought, jest the same, how much happier everybody'd be,
-'specially old maids, if they'd only retire quietly."
-
-"I'll have to tell that to the editor of the funny column," Harvey said
-when his composure had returned; "and I'll send it on to you when it
-appears in the _Argus_."
-
-"I'm a subscriber to that paper now," David said complacently; "how 're
-you gettin' along?--like the editin' business pretty good?"
-
-"Fine," Harvey assured him cordially. Then he told, as modestly as he
-could, of what success he had achieved and of his prospects of
-promotion.
-
-"Where you got the start was goin' into it as soon as you left school,"
-David averred; "there's nothin' like gettin' at your work early. That's
-why I advise gettin' up a little afore day--for other folks. You see,
-you'll get the hang of it--of editin', I mean--afore you're set in your
-ways. If you want to succeed these days, you've got to take time by the
-fetlock, as one of them old philosophers said. That's what makes all
-the difference between two fellows; one'll waste his time gallivantin'
-round, while the other's learnin' all about his business an' gettin'
-ready for somethin' big. Now, there's poor Cecil, for instance--you've
-heard what's come o' Cecil?"
-
-"No," answered Harvey, sitting up very straight. "No, I haven't heard
-anything--has anything happened?"
-
-"Oh, nothin' terrible important. Only he's off for Africa--went last
-week. He was foolin' an' fiddlin' round, spongin' on his father--an' he
-got into one or two little scrapes. An' his father kind o' got tired of
-it--an' Cecil got a chance of some kind of a job with some company
-that's buildin' a railroad or somethin' in South Africa. An' the old
-man let him go--so he's gone," David concluded earnestly, "an' I reckon
-punchin' mules is about the highest position o' trust he'll be
-occupyin'. Let's go into the house."
-
-"Is Cecil going to stay long in Africa?" Harvey asked as they walked
-along.
-
-"He won't likely be back to tea very often," ventured David. "Jemima!
-I'm so short in the wind now," his breath coming fast. "I don't much
-calculate he'll be back till the walkin's good--unless the old man
-fetches him," a droll smile showing on David's face, as they entered the
-little house.
-
-"Sorry Madeline's not in," Mr. Borland began as he sank into a chair;
-"she works pretty steady now, poor child--they say she's a reg'lar
-dabster at that wood-work. She paints chiny too," he went on, pride in
-the voice--"I think she's out at Hyman's, burnin' it, this evenin'. Sit
-down, Harvey," motioning towards a chair, for his guest was standing in
-a spasm of attentiveness. "It's a bit different from the old place,
-ain't it?" as he looked round the humble room.
-
-"It's just as good," said Harvey bluntly, rather at a loss.
-
-"That's where you're shoutin'," David responded, something of his
-old-time vigour in the tone. "It's jest every bit as good. When I'm
-settin' here in the evenin'--I don't work so very hard; they gave me a
-nice easy job at the office--an' Madeline's puttin' on my slippers or
-runnin' her fingers round my old gray head, when I shut my eyes I can't
-tell the difference. Never did set in only one chair," he mused as if to
-himself, "never did wear but one pair o' slippers, never did have but
-one Madeline to cure my headaches an' my heartaches an' everythin' like
-that. An' I like the lamp better'n the old sulky gas--an' we've got the
-best pump in the county," he went on enthusiastically--"right out there;
-it's far better'n the old tap water. So we're jest as happy, Harvey."
-
-Harvey smiled, and lovingly, at the beaming face.
-
-"An' I can prove it," the old man suddenly resumed. "I can prove it,"
-he repeated eagerly. "See that fireplace there?" pointing to the hearth
-on which the wood was already laid. "Put a match to it, Harvey--you're
-younger than me. Set it agoin', Harvey, an' I'll show you--it's gettin'
-coolish, anyhow."
-
-Harvey did as directed. The shavings led the flame upward to the little
-twigs, and the twigs hurried it on to the willing cedar, and the cedar
-lit the way to the gnarled pine knots; these opened their bosoms to the
-flame and soon the leaping tongues began their glad crusade against the
-shadows, a revelry of sight and sound flooding the room with light and
-music.
-
-"There!" cried David jubilantly. "Tell me the difference if you
-can--ain't that the very same as it used to be in the great big house?
-Didn't I tell you I could prove it?--there ain't no difference, Harvey;
-it's jest the very same," he repeated once again, rejoicing in the great
-truth he found so difficult to express. "An' that's what I always
-trained myself to believe," he went on after a long pause. "I always
-believed in simple livin'--even when I had lots o' chance the other way.
-Didn't I, Harvey?" he pursued, gazing into the other's eyes through the
-glow.
-
-"That you did, Mr. Borland," Harvey affirmed. "And that's why it comes
-so easy to you now."
-
-"That was how I knew poor Mr. Craig was on the wrong tack," David
-pursued thoughtfully. "I spotted the signs as soon as they began; when
-he started callin' his sideboard a 'buffy'--an' when he began sayin'
-'blue mange' instead o' cornstarch; I heard him at his own table--an'
-callin' 'Johnny-cake' corn-cake--an' referrin' to the cuspidor when he
-meant a spittoon--when he began them tony names, I knew it was all up
-with poor Mr. Craig. When a man gets so dainty that his horses stop
-sweatin' an' begin perspirin', he ain't much good for common folks after
-that. That's why Mr. Craig wanted so bad to be mayor--jest that buffy
-idea, same thing," David explained pityingly. "An' then it wasn't long
-till he made the foolishest break of all," he went on; "d'ye know what
-it was?" as he looked enquiringly at Harvey; "you'd never guess."
-
-"No idea," admitted Harvey.
-
-"Well, he began takin' his dinner at supper time. Leastways, he began
-callin' it dinner--an' it's a terrible bad sign when a fellow begins
-takin' dinner when the dew's fallin'. His old father used to say:
-'Well, I reckon it's time to feed again,' but Craig always said he
-guessed he'd have to go home to dinner--an' he wasn't never the same man
-after he begun that kind o' foolishness," David affirmed seriously.
-"The only other man I ever heard callin' supper dinner was a terrible
-rich fellow from New York. He had a summer cottage on Lake Joseph; he
-used to bring his own doctor with him, an' his own minister--an' his own
-undertaker. An' he took his dinner about bedtime," David concluded
-mournfully.
-
-"Makin' out pretty good at the newspaper business, Harvey?" David asked
-presently, some minor themes disposed of.
-
-Harvey pondered. He was thinking of many things. "Do you mean
-financially, Mr. Borland?" he asked at length.
-
-"Yes, I reckon so; you're climbin' up the ladder a bit, ain't you?"
-
-"I'm getting along pretty well, that way," Harvey replied. "And I think
-I'm getting an insight into the business. They say the _Argus_ is going
-to change hands--but that won't affect my position at all."
-
-"Pity you couldn't get a-hold of it," said David reflectively. "But
-don't worry about that, my boy. Don't never be disappointed if success
-don't come as fast as you think it should. It nearly always slips
-through a fellow's fingers at the last--so don't get set up on it. I'm
-gettin' to be an old man now; an' if there's one thing I've learned
-better'n another, it's how a man don't have them things in his own
-hands. I believe every man's jest runnin' on the time-table that's laid
-out for him; an' he'll spoil everythin' if he tries too much to
-interfere. Often we think we're terrible smart. An' mebbe we are--but
-we find out sooner or later we've got to walk the plank, an' it's queer
-how we get jockeyed jest when we think we're at the winnin' post. We're
-pretty handy with the rod an' the reel--but God handles the landin'-net
-Himself. That's why the biggest ones most gen'rally always get away,"
-and David nodded his head seriously as he peered into Harvey's eyes.
-
-"I'd sooner win along other lines than that," mused Harvey.
-
-"Than what?"
-
-"Than the money way. That isn't everything."
-
-"That there was a beautiful thing you done in the cemetery," David
-digressed suddenly. "That there was high finance."
-
-"What?" asked the bewildered Harvey.
-
-"You know," said the other--"your mother's gravestone. I didn't know
-nothin' about it till Madeline took some flowers out one evenin'. That
-was lovely, Harvey."
-
-Harvey's voice was thick. "That was the first money I ever saved, Mr.
-Borland," he said after a long silence; "the only money I ever saved."
-
-"Savin's like them is holy," David said simply. "An' I'm goin' to tell
-you somethin', Harvey," as he braced himself for the purpose. "An' I'm
-goin' to trust you not to tell any one--not any one in the world."
-
-Harvey turned to gaze into the earnest face.
-
-"I don't know jest why it should be so hard to tell," David began
-calmly. "But it's this, Harvey--my day's jest about done--I ain't goin'
-to be here much longer, Harvey. No, don't now, please," he pleaded as
-he stretched out his hand towards the livid youth, already leaping to
-his feet. "Don't, Harvey, don't--but it's true. An' I've known it a
-good while now; the doctor told me long ago," he continued calmly. "My
-old heart thinks it's jest about quittin' time, it seems. An' I don't
-blame it a terrible lot--it's had a long day's work, an' I reckon it's a
-good deal like me, kind o' ready for its rest," the tired voice went on.
-"That's where the trouble is, anyhow," he affirmed placidly, "but I
-never told nobody--a fellow ought to burn his own smoke, I think, an'
-not let it trouble other people. But I've told you now, Harvey--so you
-won't be so terrible surprised when ... And besides," his voice breaking
-for the first time, "besides--I wanted to tell you somethin' else, my
-boy--I wanted to tell you--how--how much I loved you, Harvey--for
-fear--for fear I mightn't have another chance," as the tired face went
-downward to his hands, the hot tears trickling between the fingers that
-were so thin and worn.
-
-The room was hushed in silence as Harvey's tear-stained face was bowed
-beside his friend. He spoke no word, and no touch of tenderness was
-felt except the slow tightening of his arm about the furrowed neck,
-holding the quivering form close in strong and silent fondness. David
-spoke at length. "I want you to come along with me, Harvey."
-
-"Where?" Harvey asked in a startled voice.
-
-"Oh, not there," said David, smiling. "You thought I meant the long,
-long road. No, not that; but I'm goin' to the communion, Harvey--that's
-what I meant--I'm goin' to join the church."
-
-"I'm glad," said Harvey after a long stillness.
-
-"I nearly joined once afore," David went on. "I reckon you remember when
-I had that meetin' with the elders--kind o' run agin a snag, I did. An'
-mebbe I ain't much worthier yet--but I see it different. I ain't much of
-a Christian, I know--but I'm a kind of a sinner saved by grace. An' I'd
-kind o' like to own up in front of everybody afore--afore it's too
-late," he said, his voice almost inaudible.
-
-"When?" asked Harvey.
-
-"Next Sunday," answered David. "But I didn't go up agin the elders this
-time, mind you--I wouldn't," he went on stoutly. "It seems to me a
-fellow ain't no more called on to tell a lot of elders--human
-elders--about them things, an' his soul, than he is to tell 'em about
-his love-makin'; so I jest went to Dr. Fletcher, an' I told him what I
-felt about--about Christ--an' I said I felt like I'd had a bid from some
-One higher up. An' Dr. Fletcher said no elder wasn't to have a look-in
-this time. So I'm goin', Harvey--an' it'd be an awful comfort if you
-an' me went together. It's quite a spell since you was there, ain't it,
-Harvey?"
-
-The fire had gone out upon the hearth. And Harvey spoke never a word
-amid the thickening gloom.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXIV*
-
- _*THE OVERFLOWING HOUR*_
-
-
-The light had almost faded from the sky and the stealthy shadows were
-settling down about Glenallen as Harvey strode towards one of the hills
-that kept their ancient watch about the town. He did not know whither
-his course was tending; nor did he greatly care, for many and
-conflicting were the thoughts that employed him as he walked.
-
-Still fresh and vivid, almost overpowering sometimes, was his sense of
-loss and shame. The defilement of his besetting sin, and the
-humiliation of a life so nearly honeycombed, and the tragedy of a will
-so nearly sold to slavery--all these had their stern influence on his
-soul. The bruised and beaten past rose afresh before him; and if ever
-human heart felt its own weakness, and human life its own unworthiness,
-it was as Harvey Simmons climbed that solitary hill amid the deepening
-dusk. Mingling with his sense of shame was the realization of all that
-it must cost him--for his manhood would refuse to claim what only a
-worthier manhood could fairly win.
-
-Passing strange it was that at that very moment, the moment of true
-self-reproach and humiliation, his roving eyes should suddenly have been
-startled as they fell on two white-clad figures that were climbing the
-hill behind him. One of them he recognized in an instant--it was
-Madeline--and his heart almost frightened him, so violently did it leap.
-He struggled to repress the rising tide--for the test had come sooner
-than he thought--but a thrill of passion swept through all his frame.
-
-Yet his resolve strengthened in his heart--the purpose that had been
-forming within him through many days. The resolve of a hero, too, it
-was; and the native strength of the man flowed anew, stern and
-unconquerable, as he made the great renunciation. Not that he loved the
-less; the more, rather. And not because he doubted that her heart
-answered, if perhaps less ardently, to his own. He saw again, as he had
-never ceased to see, the withered flowers in her hand. That picture he
-had cherished ever since, deep hidden in his deepest heart--patiently
-waiting, till his achievements and his station should warrant him to
-come back and drink to all eternity where he had but sipped before.
-
-He knew now that this should never be. He thought, and swift and lurid
-was the image, of his own father, and of his mother's broken heart, and
-of the baneful legacy that had been his own--and of the shrouded chapter
-that had been so carefully kept from him, tight shut like the chamber of
-the dead. He knew, besides all this, that he loved too well to offer
-Madeline a life that was not intrinsically worthy; if accounted worthy,
-it could only be by the shelter of a living lie. Thus was his resolve
-taken, anguish-born. Yet his hungering heart cried out that it could
-not go its way in silence--this luxury at least it claimed, to tell its
-story and to say farewell.
-
-He turned and made his way downward to the approaching pair. Lifting
-his hat as he came close, he spoke Madeline's name and stood still. Her
-surprise seemed to seal her lips at first, but he could see through the
-gloaming what inflamed his heart afresh.
-
-"I heard you were in Glenallen," her low voice began, "but I didn't
-expect to see you. When did you come? Oh, pardon me, let me introduce
-you to my friend," as she spoke her companion's name.
-
-He removed his hat again and bowed. One or two commonplaces passed.
-
-"Where are you going?" Harvey asked abruptly.
-
-"We're going to see a little girl that's sick; she lives on the first
-farm outside the town. She's one of my class," Madeline explained, "and
-I asked Miss Brodie to accompany me--my friend lives in that house
-yonder," pointing to a residence near the foot of the hill; "it gets
-dark so early now."
-
-"I'll go with you myself," said Harvey.
-
-"What?" was all Madeline said, her voice unsteady.
-
-"I'll go with you myself," he repeated; "Miss Brodie won't mind--we'll
-see her home first. I wish to speak with you," and without further
-explanation he turned to lead the way to Miss Brodie's home.
-
-Madeline's protest came, but it was weak and trembling. And her
-companion spoke no word except to give assent. For there seemed to be
-some strange authority about the silent man; something in his voice, or
-manner, or in the drawn face that looked into the distance through the
-fading light. They could not tell; but they followed as he led.
-Madeline's hand trembled as it made its way into her friend's; a moment
-later she withdrew it, walking on alone. But her bosom rose and fell
-with the movement of that eternal mystery that so many a maiden's heart
-has known, that none has ever solved. And her eyes were moist and dim,
-she knew not why; and now and then a strange quiver shook the graceful
-form, protesting, reluctant, half-rebellious, yet at the mercy of
-something she could neither fathom nor deny.
-
-Bidding Miss Brodie good-night, they retraced their steps and pressed on
-towards the outskirts of the town. Perhaps both wondered why they
-walked so fast, Madeline wondering, indeed, why she walked at all. But
-there was something indescribably sweet about the strange mastery in
-which he seemed to hold her--and her eyes smiled, though she was
-trembling, as she looked ahead into the waiting shadows.
-
-"That's the house." These were the first words that broke the
-stillness, and they came from Madeline's lips--"that's where she lives,"
-pointing to a distant light.
-
-"Who?" and Harvey turned his eyes upon her.
-
-"The child I'm going to see--I told you."
-
-Silence still; and still they walked on together. Once she stumbled over
-an uneven plank. His hand went out swiftly to her arm, and as he
-touched it his whole frame swayed towards her. In an instant his hand
-was withdrawn; but not before a faint outbreak flowed from her lips. He
-looked down at her through the darkness--her face was deadly white.
-
-"I don't believe I'll go," she said weakly; "I'll go to-morrow."
-
-He pointed into the darkness. "I want to speak with you," he said,
-striding on.
-
-A little murmur surged to her lips. She checked it. "Will you wait for
-me--till I come out, Harvey?" the last word coming slow.
-
-"I can't."
-
-"What?" she said, her tone firmer, her pace abating.
-
-"I cannot wait," he said; "you can't go in till--after."
-
-She cast a swift glance upwards--but his eyes were forward bent. He
-pressed swiftly on. She walked beside him.
-
-Suddenly he paused, then stood still. He listened intently; no sound
-but the desultory barking of a distant watch-dog. He looked about--and
-the voiceless night seemed to contain no other but those twain. He
-could see the blinking light in the window, the one Madeline had pointed
-to; it made the solitude deeper, like a far-off gleam at sea.
-
-"Let us go in here and sit down," he said, pointing towards a little
-clearance under the shadow of two spreading oaks that towered above an
-intervening thicket.
-
-They stepped down from the rickety sidewalk. And they crossed the dusty
-road, neither speaking; and the dew glistened on their feet as they went
-on into the thickening grass--and Madeline could hear her poor heart
-beating, but she uttered never a word.
-
-It is the glory of a strong woman that she sometimes may be weak; nay,
-that she must be, by very token of her strength. For her strength hath
-its home in love and in her capacity to love--there is her crown and
-there the well-spring of her beauty and her charm. Yet this knows its
-highest strength in weakness; and its victory is in surrender. And the
-greatest moment in the life of the noblest woman is when convention and
-propriety and custom--and the tyranny of the social code--yea, when even
-her own native pride, her womanly reticence, her insistence on all that
-a woman may demand, are defiantly renounced; when these all lie in ruins
-at her feet, scorned and forgotten by reason of the torrent of her love;
-when beauty's tresses lie dishevelled, and its robes of dignity are
-stained with tears, then is woman's wild eternal heart at its very
-noblest in all the abandon of the passion that sets it free from every
-tie save one.
-
-Wherefore Madeline--she of the beauteous face and of the snow-white
-heart--went on with Harvey where he led. Down from the pavement she
-stepped, down into the earthly road, reckless of the dainty fabric that
-the dust leaped to stain; and she walked on into the glistening grass,
-and her eyes saw the waiting oak and the vast sky behind. And the night
-was dark, and even the distant blinking light was hidden; and she could
-hear the soft language of the mother bird that kept her love-taught
-vigil, and the whippoorwill's cry came in mellow waves across the
-rippling woods--and the great tender arms of the holy night were about
-them all.
-
-"Let us sit here," and Harvey motioned towards a giant log that lay
-beneath the oaks. "And I'll tell you, Madeline."
-
-She raised one white hand to her throat as she took her place; even then
-he noticed the delicate tapering fingers, so well fitted for the work to
-which her father had referred. Something seemed to be choking her, so
-long were the white fingers held to the soft flesh above. The other
-hand went out absently, uplifted, and she held tight to the
-soft-swinging branch of the ancient oak, for the leaves bended about
-them where they sat.
-
-"Very well, Harvey," she said. "Isn't it about father--didn't you see
-him this evening?" Commonplace questions enough they were; and her
-heart had clutched wildly at them as her hand had seized the bough above
-her. But commonplace the words were not--a surge of fire made them glow
-and gleam, to him at least, her troubled soul sweeping through them like
-a flood. For her voice was shaking as she asked the simple questions;
-and her arm was still outstretched as she clung to the yielding
-bough--and the white fingers still pressed the quivering throat.
-
-"No, it isn't about that," he said, his voice as low as the voices of
-the night. She never moved. But he heard, actually heard, her lips as
-they slowly parted--and her breath came as if she were resting from a
-race.
-
-"It's about us--oh, Madeline, it's about us," he began, and his words
-came swift, as if they were driven out by force. "You know, you know,
-Madeline, all that's in my heart--all that's been there for years. Ever
-since I worked for your father--ever since we went to school--ever since
-that night beside my baby sister's grave--and since you came to see
-mother when she got blind--and since I went to college--and always,
-always, Madeline, through all the years. You know, Madeline, you know."
-Then his words poured out in a passionate stream, swirling like waves
-about her, and he told her what they both had known long, what neither
-had ever heard before. The maiden's eyes shone dim; and one hand
-clutched tighter at the crushed and broken twigs; the other slipped from
-the quivering throat, pressed now to the paining bosom. And the moist
-lips were parted still, but the speech that flowed between was silent as
-her listening soul.
-
-"And I've told you the worst, Madeline," he vowed at length. "I was
-determined to tell you the worst, before I go away, before I go away to
-take up the struggle against my sin--alone. And to win--to conquer," he
-added low. "So I'm not worthy, Madeline--and the future's
-uncertain--and I know it and you know it. And nobody but God can ever
-tell what it has meant to me to say all I've said to-night; and it's all
-because I love you so... Oh, Madeline," and the strong voice struggled
-in vain to keep on its way; too late, it broke and trembled, the pain
-and passion bursting through it as he bowed his head and hid his face.
-"So I'm going away," he murmured low, "I'm going away."
-
-The sighing wind was hushed and the mother bird was silent and the
-whippoorwill was dumb.
-
-"Harvey, don't."
-
-It was such a gentle note, barely audible, like the first faint cry of
-some wood-born nestling when it sees the light. But it filled and
-flooded all his soul. He raised his head, so slowly, from his hands; and
-slowly he turned his face till his eyes rested full upon her. The moon
-had risen and he could see her beauty. Both hands were lying now in the
-white folds of her dress, and between them were the crushed and broken
-leaves, their fragrance outstealing from their wounds. The branch she
-had released was still swaying to and fro. But Madeline saw it not; nor
-aught else beside. The veiled and glistening eyes were looking far
-beyond; he could not tell whether they were fixed on the darkling
-thicket or on the crescent moon. But while his gaze stole upward to her
-face a night-bird in the thicket piped softly to its mate--and he saw
-her eyes search the frowning shade. Then they were still. But he could
-see the radiance on cheek and brow, and he felt the life-stream that her
-eyes outpoured, aglow with the emotion of her soul. Her bosom rose and
-fell, nor did she seem to know--again and yet again the candour of her
-love spoke thus. And while he looked she slowly turned her head. He
-noted, even then, and in the gathering light, the wealth of lovely hair,
-the fair purity of her forehead, the mystic lure of her quivering lips,
-the throb that beat swiftly in her throat, soft and white like the
-lily's bloom--but they all were lost in the glory of her wondrous eyes.
-These were transfigured; surrender, conquest, yearning, pity, pride, the
-joy of possession and the rapture of captivity--all that unite to make
-that mysterious tide called passion, looked their meaning from her face.
-
-Her breath, fresh from the parted lips, floated outward till it touched
-his face--and to him spreading oak and whispering grove and shadowy
-thicket and crescent moon had ceased to be. He saw her eyes alone, his
-soul swimming towards them through the torrent; his finger-tips touched
-her shoulders first--and she was there--and the soft form yielded, and
-the glory slowly faded as the eyelids fell, and the fragrance of her
-breath made life a holy thing forever as he drew her into the strong
-shelter of his love.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXV*
-
- *"*_*INTO HIS HOUSE OF WINE*_*"*
-
-
-They came up the little hill together. And many eyes were turned on
-them in wonder as they went up the aisle, David still leaning on the
-strong man beside him. It was Robert McCaig who took the token from Mr.
-Borland's hand, and his own told its welcome by its lingering clasp.
-
-They were almost at David's pew, Madeline and her mother already seated
-there, when Harvey stood still and whispered. "Let us go to my mother's
-seat," he said.
-
-David's assent was quick and cordial. He knew the sacrament of love;
-and the look with which Madeline and her mother followed them showed
-that they recognized the higher claim.
-
-Very beautiful was the service of that holy hour. The opening psalm
-breathed the spirit of penitence and trust. When Dr. Fletcher rose to
-pray, his face was illumined with such joy as there is in the presence
-of the angels when a new star swims into the firmament of heaven. And
-his prayer gave thanks for the cloud of witnesses that compassed them
-about, and for those who had gone out from them along the upward path of
-pain.
-
-Wonderful stillness wrapped the worshippers about as the elders went
-slowly down the aisle with the symbols of redeeming love. It was not
-his accustomed place, but Geordie Nickle bore the bread and wine to
-where David and Harvey sat. His eyes shone with a great light as he
-placed the emblems first in David's shaking hand; and the moist eyes
-were upturned to God; and his lips moved while he stood before them in
-the grand dignity of his priestly office. The compassion glowing on his
-face was worthy of the Cross.
-
-David and Harvey bowed their heads together, the old man and the young.
-The one was touched with the whitening frost of years, the other with
-the dew of youth. But their lips were moist with the same holy wine and
-their hearts were kindred in their trembling hope. Before them both
-arose the vision of a Saviour's face; but the old man's thought was of
-eternal rest, and the other's was of the battling years beyond.
-
-Harvey's mind flew quickly over all the bygone days. Love and
-loneliness, conflict and respite, hope and despair, victory and
-overthrow passed before him--and all seemed now to have conspired
-towards this holy hour. He felt that the way had been chosen for him
-amid life's perplexing paths; that an unseen Hand had been at the helm;
-that the prayer and purpose of another's life had led him back to the
-path from which he had departed, fulfilling the design of an All-wise
-Sovereign Will.
-
-David gave a little start of surprise when Dr. Fletcher announced the
-closing hymn.
-
-"He done that for me," he whispered to Harvey; "he knows it's mine."
-
-They rose to sing the noble song. The great words rolled slowly out
-from many reverent lips:
-
- "The sands of time are sinking."
-
-
-It was when they came to the soul's great boast
-
- "With mercy and with judgment
- My web of time He wove,"
-
-that Harvey turned his eyes towards David; and his heart melted as he
-saw the tears rolling down the withered cheeks. David's head was bowed,
-for it hurt him sore that men should see. But there had come about him
-such a tide of feeling--all his chequered life rising up before him--and
-such a sense of the abundant grace that had made the shadows beautiful
-with light, that his soul dissolved in gratitude to the Hand that guided
-and the Heart that planned through all the labyrinth of years.
-
-Other lips were still, and Harvey's among them, when they reached the
-closing lines:
-
- "Amid the shades of evening
- While sinks life's lingering sand
- I hail the glory dawning
- In Immanuel's land."
-
-
-But those who were beside him marvelled at the strong rich tones with
-which David sounded the exultant note. His voice was no more the voice
-of age; and the scars of battle had vanished from his face. Strong and
-victorious came the swelling strain, and his uplifted eyes had the glow
-of unconquerable youth. He had caught the lights of Home.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXVI*
-
- _*A MISTRESS OF FINANCE*_
-
-
-"Some men are born lucky--and some get lucky--and some have the
-confoundedst kind of good luck thrust upon them," affirmed Mr. Crothers,
-nodding towards a letter in Harvey's hand.
-
-"I'm just going to read this over once more; it really seems too good to
-be true," was Harvey's rather irrelevant reply, his eyes fastened again
-upon the letter.
-
-"You're dead right. If any one had told me, that night three months
-ago--you remember our conversation then--that you'd be given a position
-like that so early in your career, I'd have laughed at them. I don't
-think I ever knew a man get as quick promotion in the newspaper business
-as you've had, Simmons. I really don't. But then you've got the
-education--and the material above the eyes--and that's the whole outfit.
-Well, I can't do any more than congratulate you, old man," and the
-sincerity of Mr. Crothers' words was evident as Harvey looked across the
-table into the deep-set eyes.
-
-"You've had more to do with it than anybody else, I'm sure," Harvey
-returned; "and I'll do all I can to make good. I'll expect you to----"
-
-"I'll tell you something I've been thinking of for quite a while," the
-other broke in, lowering his voice and leaning far over the table. "If
-we could only get a hold of the business--the paper, I mean--the whole
-box and dice! The thing's going to change hands, as you know; everybody
-has known that, since the president got the collectorship of
-customs--and it would be worth more to us than to anybody else. We could
-run it to the Queen's taste--the whole shooting-match. But I suppose
-there's no use talking--can't make bricks without straw. Of course,
-I've saved a little chicken-feed--not enough, though--there, that's my
-total," as he pencilled some figures on a blotting-pad and passed it
-over; "and if you could duplicate it--or a little better--we'd have the
-thing in our mitt. But I suppose there's no use thinking about it?"
-looking rather eagerly at Harvey, nevertheless.
-
-"Out of the question," answered Harvey decisively, leaning back in his
-chair; "you can't get blood from a turnip, or, as Geordie Nickle, a
-Glenallen friend of mine, would say, you can't take the breeks off a
-Hielan'man. I haven't any money, that's the English of it. Of course,"
-a tinge of pleasure in the tone, "I'll have a pretty good salary
-now--but what's that for a plunge like this?" as he pushed the
-blotting-pad back across the table.
-
-"About as good as a dozen of eggs for an army," Mr. Crothers agreed
-disconsolately. "Oh, well, we'll just have to make out the best we
-can--but I'm mighty glad of your good luck, old man, just the same."
-
-Both men turned to their work. Harvey's first move was to ring for a
-stenographer. But he changed his mind. "I won't need you for a few
-minutes," he said; "I'll write this one myself."
-
-The letter closed as follows: "... So it's come at last, sister--and
-your days of drudgery are past. They will always be a sacred memory to
-me, for I wonder if any man ever came to his own through as noble
-sacrifice as has filled all your life for me, yours and mother's. Now,
-Jessie, be sure and do as I've told you. Sell your business--lock,
-stock, and barrel--or give it away; make Miss Adair a present of it, or
-rent it to her, or anything you like. Only one thing remember--you'll
-rest now, and all my good fortune will be spoiled unless you share it
-with me.
-
-Your ever loving
- "HARVEY."
-
-
-Even Grey started with surprise when Harvey arrived home that night an
-hour earlier than usual. And Miss Farringall's face brightened suddenly
-as Harvey's knock at the door of her sitting-room was followed by the
-appearance of a very radiant face. He had a letter in his hand.
-
-"I want to speak first," she said impulsively, divining his purpose.
-
-"Yes, Miss Farringall," he said enquiringly.
-
-"It's something I've wanted to ask you for a long time--and I'm going to
-do it now," she added very softly, rising and moving to the window; "did
-your mother ever--did she ever speak to you about your father, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey's answer was slow. "Yes," he said at length.
-
-"Did you know he's living?" she asked after a long pause.
-
-"Yes," and Harvey's voice was little more than audible. "My mother told
-me that when she was dying. Why?" he asked resolutely, moving to where
-she stood.
-
-"I only wished to know, dear," and her tone breathed gentleness as she
-turned and fixed her pensive eyes on his. "I knew he was living,
-and----"
-
-"Where--do you know where?" he broke out, almost with a cry. "My mother
-didn't know, and----"
-
-"No, I don't know where," she interrupted, her eyes now looking far
-without; "but I know he's living yet. We'll both know more some
-day--what's in that letter, Harvey?" the voice betokening that the
-subject was dismissed, at least for the present.
-
-"It's something you'll be glad to read," he answered absently as he
-handed it to her.
-
-Deep silence reigned a while.
-
-"I knew it, Harvey," she said when she had finished. "I expected
-this--I was waiting for you to come home. I wanted to see you very
-much. Can you think what for?"
-
-"I don't know," Harvey answered abstractedly, musing still.
-
-"Barlow," she called.
-
-"Yes, mum," a sepulchral voice answered from the hall, followed a moment
-later by the apparition of the never distant servant.
-
-"You know the vault, Barlow?"
-
-"Yes, mum," replied its guardian of years.
-
-"And the box in the lower left-hand corner?"
-
-"Yes, mum."
-
-"And the paper we deposited there yesterday?"
-
-"Yes, mum."
-
-"That Dr. Wallis helped me to draw?"
-
-"Yes, mum."
-
-"Then bring it to me at once."
-
-"Yes, mum," and Barlow turned in his tracks as he had done for a quarter
-of a century.
-
-He was back in a moment. "You can go now, Barlow--and shut the door.
-Take Grey, and don't stand outside. Go and count the spoons."
-
-"Yes, mum," and the immobile Barlow departed to make the oft-repeated
-inventory.
-
-"I expected this to come, Harvey," she began as soon as they were alone.
-"I know the president of the _Argus_--or of the company, or whatever you
-call it. I'm not such a hermit as some people think. But I've been
-wishing for something better for you, Harvey--can you guess what it is?"
-her words ending in a nervous little cough.
-
-Harvey's face showed how innocent he was of any such knowledge.
-
-"Well, it keeps running in my mind that you ought to own that paper."
-
-Harvey gave a little laugh. "That's what Mr. Crothers was saying," he
-began confusedly; "he thinks we could do wonders if we had it between
-us--but of course it's out of the question. It would cost--oh, I don't
-know how much."
-
-"I know all about that," and Miss Farringall's cheek had a strangely
-heightened colour. "I've looked into all that," she added in a low
-tone; "and do you think you could? Would Mr. Crothers really make a
-good partner?"
-
-Harvey stared. "He's a jewel, Miss Farringall, every way--but why
-do----"
-
-"Excuse me," Miss Farringall interrupted with authority. "Let me
-proceed. I want to make an investment. I want to buy a business that
-belongs to you and Jessie. Sign that paper, please," as she handed him
-the document Barlow had brought.
-
-Amazement took possession of Harvey as he read.
-
-"Close your lips, Harvey--when you're excited, breathe deep; it's a
-great sedative," and Miss Farringall smiled as she watched his face.
-
-Harvey laid the paper down with a gasp. "But, Miss Farringall," he
-began excitedly, breathing as best he could, "the proposition is
-preposterous--a sum of money such as this for a paltry outfit like that
-little store in Glenallen! The whole thing isn't worth----"
-
-"Be careful, Harvey Simmons, be careful, now," Miss Farringall broke in
-sternly. "You haven't read the agreement. Maybe the price does look
-big--but did you see all I'm to get in return?"
-
-Harvey shook the document excitedly. "You ask the business--the stock,
-and the good-will--and neither the one nor the other's worth one tithe
-of----"
-
-"Wait a minute," broke in the prospective purchaser; "I ask more than
-that. The vendor goes with the sale," she announced, rising to her
-feet. "It's that way in the paper--Jessie goes with it; I buy her too.
-I can do what I like with the business--and Jessie comes to me. Yes,"
-she cried, her voice shaking in its eagerness, "that's what I want the
-most--and Jessie's willing. I've found that out top--and she's to be
-mine, to keep and care for. And she's to be shipped here, right side up
-with care, and she's to give me value for my money every time I see her
-sweet face and hear her merry laugh. I've spent a lot repairing this
-old house--but that's the kind of repair it's been needing for long
-years, and it's going to get it now. When you get the purchase money
-you can invest it as you like; it'll be your own--only sign, Harvey,
-sign now. I've got the price all ready," her voice ringing with merry
-music as she brandished a bulky envelope before his eyes.
-
-Harvey gazed long into the triumphant face. Then he moved slowly up to
-her, holding out his arms, and she put her own about his neck with
-hurrying, passionate eagerness and held him tight. When, released, he
-looked again into the flushed and quivering face, the swimming eyes
-seemed not to see his own, fixed in yearning on the silent desk that
-held the secret of the years.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXVII*
-
- _*THE CONQUEROR'S HOME-GOING*_
-
-
-"You're wanted on the long-distance line, Mr. Simmons; Glenallen wants
-to speak with you," was the message that interrupted Harvey and Mr.
-Crothers in the midst of a very delightful conference; the future of the
-_Morning Argus_ was the subject of discussion.
-
-"Somebody wanting to congratulate you," ventured Mr. Crothers; "tell
-them the new firm's flourishing so far," a smile of great satisfaction
-on his face. The fulfillment of the ambition of half a life-time had
-filled Mr. Crothers' cup to overflowing.
-
-Five minutes later Harvey had returned, the gladness vanished from his
-eyes.
-
-"What's the matter, Simmons?--nothing gone wrong, I hope."
-
-"I've got to leave within ten minutes," Harvey answered, stooping to
-arrange some scattered papers on his desk. "I'll just have time to
-catch the Glenallen train. The dearest friend I have in the world is
-dying, they tell me--and he wants me."
-
-"Who?" asked Mr. Crothers, rising from his seat.
-
-"Mr. Borland--David Borland. You've often heard me speak of him."
-
-Mr. Crothers' countenance fell. "I should think I have; I almost feel
-as if I knew him, you've given me so much of his philosophy. I always
-hoped I might meet him--what's like the trouble?"
-
-"Heart," said Harvey, unable to say more.
-
-"That was where his homely philosophy came from, I should say," ventured
-Mr. Crothers; "it's the best brand too."
-
-Harvey nodded. A few minutes later he was gone.
-
-
-The evening sun was prodigal of its beauty. And once, when Harvey
-lifted up his eyes to look, he could see the flashing windows of David's
-old-time residence, its stately outlines showing clear against the
-sombre trees behind. But the little house on which his eyes were
-fastened now--where a great soul was preparing for its flight--seemed
-far the grander of the two. For it was clothed with the majesty of
-things invisible and the outlook from its humbler windows was to the
-Eternal.
-
-He entered without knocking; and Mrs. Borland was the first to meet him.
-
-"He's sinking fast," she said, greeting Harvey with a warmth he had not
-known before. "He can still speak with us, though--and he's been asking
-for you."
-
-"Who's with him?" asked Harvey.
-
-"Just Madeline. We sent for Dr. Fletcher--but he's away, attending some
-meeting of ministers. Mr. Nickle's coming, though--he'll soon be here
-now."
-
-Harvey stood a minute at the door before he entered David's room.
-Madeline looked up and smiled; but her father's eyes were turned away,
-fixed on the distant hills. The gaze of the younger man rested long and
-lovingly on the pallid face upon the pillow. Never had David looked so
-grand before. The thin, responsive lips; the care-worn face, compassion
-and sympathy in every line; the crown of silvery hair, so whitened since
-Harvey saw it last; the large, far-seeing eyes, homes of the faith and
-hope that had upborne his life and made it beautiful, out-gazing now
-beyond the things of time, calm with the last long peace--all these gave
-to the face that spiritual beauty which is the handiwork of God.
-
-Harvey drew closer to the bed. David slowly turned his head; his eyes
-met Harvey's, and he held out his hand.
-
-"I knew you'd come," he said gently; we're all together now--all but
-Geordie."
-
-Harvey's answer was a warmer pressure of the wasted hand.
-
-"The sands is runnin' fast," David said with a faint smile--"the
-battle'll soon be done. An' I'm pretty tired, Harvey."
-
-Harvey was still standing by the bed, bowed, still holding David's hand.
-And the dying man could see the tears that were making their way down
-the quivering cheeks.
-
-"Don't, Harvey," he implored; "this ain't no time for that. Madeline,
-read that bit again."
-
-The girl lifted the Bible from the bed. "She knows the place I
-want--it's John the fourteenth," David said, his face turned to
-Harvey's. "We love all the places--they're all beautiful. There's
-lovely shade in the Psalms when the hot sun's beatin' down--an' it's all
-good; but John the fourteenth's like a deep, clear spring, an' that's
-where we stay the most--weary travellers loves a spring," and the dying
-man turned his eyes eagerly on the book Madeline had opened.
-
-"Let not your heart be troubled.... In My Father's house are many
-mansions; if it were not so I would have told you." Thus flowed the
-stream of love; and David closed his eyes, drinking deep indeed of the
-living tide.
-
-"Ain't that beautiful?" he said, his voice thrilled with passionate
-gladness. "I like that about the mansions the best, I think. Everybody
-loves a mansion. I got turned out o' one--the one our Madeline was born
-in; but this'll be a far better one, an' me an' Madeline an' mother'll
-live there always, an' nobody can't ever turn us out. It's our
-Father's," he added reverently.
-
-Mrs. Borland was bending over him. "Don't talk, David," she pleaded;
-"it's too much for your strength."
-
-He gazed up at her. "I want to give a--a testimony--afore I go," he
-said falteringly. "I jest want to own up that I always loved God--lots
-o' folks didn't think so--an' He always loved me, an' picked the path
-for me. An' He made everythin' to happen as it did; an' I believe I'm
-thankfuller for the things I didn't want to happen than for the ones I
-did--He seen the best, 'cause He was higher up. Madeline, sing for me,"
-he appealed with failing breath; "sing a children's hymn--that one about
-the river," his eyes gently closing as he lay back upon the pillow.
-
-"He always loved that one," his wife whispered brokenly to Harvey.
-"It's so simple. We can't, David," as she bended over him, "we can't
-sing now."
-
-"I can, mother," and Madeline's voice was firm. The others' eyes were
-hidden, but Madeline's were fixed steadfastly on her father's as the
-crystal notes came low and sweet:
-
- "Soon we'll reach the silvery river
- Soon our pilgrimage shall cease;
- Soon our happy hearts shall quiver
- With the melody of peace,"
-
-and the dying lips broke in once or twice in a plaintive effort to swell
-the triumph strain.
-
-The singing ceased. But David's eyes still rested on his daughter.
-Then they were turned on Harvey, as he stood beside her; they seemed,
-indeed, to rest on both at once. And their meaning could be easily
-read. Suddenly he motioned them down beside him; the girl was
-trembling, her pale lips quivering slightly, for she had interpreted her
-father's look.
-
-David feebly raised his hands till one touched each bended head.
-"You'll sing that hymn--that river hymn--often, together--won't you; in
-your--own home," drawing the bowed heads closer down--"in your happy
-home?" he faltered.
-
-For a moment neither moved nor spoke. Then, in strong and passionate
-silence, Harvey slowly lifted his face till his eyes spoke their great
-vow to the dying man; and, unashamed, he placed his arm gently,
-resolutely, about the maiden's bended form, holding her close with a
-fondness that kindled all his face with light. But Madeline's was
-hidden, her head still bended low.
-
-David's face was wonderful in its glow of love and gladness. Suddenly
-his gaze went out beyond the plighted pair.
-
-"Geordie!" he said, the name breathed out in tenderness as his misty
-eyes saw the well-loved form coming slowly through the door.
-
-The aged man came over, leaning heavily on his staff, his face suffused
-with a gentleness that flowed from his very heart. He bended low above
-his dying friend, dumbly groping for his hand. He still leaned heavily
-on his staff, for his outgoing pilgrimage, too, was close at hand. And
-the two men looked long without a word; the memories of happy years
-passed from soul to soul; in silence their eyes still rested on each
-other, but the troth of many years was plighted once again as they stood
-at the parting of the ways. And both knew the promise was to all
-eternity.
-
-Slowly David drew the strong Scottish face down beside his own. Then he
-said something in a tone so low that no other ear could hear; Geordie's
-answer was in a trembling whisper--but both spoke a language not of
-time.
-
-"Lift me up, Geordie--Harvey, lift me up," David's feeble voice broke
-out a moment later. "I want to look once more," his eyes turning to the
-window. The sun had set, and the gilded west was bathed in glory as
-they tenderly lifted the wasted form, the weary head resting on the
-bosom of his child.
-
-David's eyes, wondrously lightened now, rested long on the crimson
-pathway. "It's a lovely road to go!" he murmured, gazing at the lane of
-light. "I'm glad I'm not goin' in the dark--things looks so strange in
-the dark. An' I'm glad..."
-
-It was Geordie Nickle who bended low, as though he were love's best
-interpreter, passionately listening for the ebbing words. The receding
-tide flowed back in a moment, and David's voice came clearer: "An' I'm
-glad it's the evenin'--things looks clearest in the evenin' or the
-mornin'--it's the long afternoon that's dark."
-
-Geordie was almost on his knees beside him, the strong Scottish face
-wrung with its depth of feeling. "Oh, David," he cried with the
-eagerness of a child, "ye'll sune be hame. An' we're all comin'--we'll
-no' be lang. An' oor Faither's hoose has mony mansions--if it were na'
-so..." but the choking voice refused.
-
-"He'd have--let us know," the dying man added gently, completing the
-mighty promise. "It's gettin' dark," he whispered suddenly, looking up
-into Madeline's eyes; "it's time for Him to come--I don't know the way."
-
-In a moment his whole expression had undergone a change, such a change
-as comes to darkening hill-tops when the morning sun loves them into
-life. Light covered his face as with a flood. The weary eyes opened
-wide, the eager hands outstretched. "It's all bright now," he
-faltered--"an' He's comin'--He's comin', like He said. I
-knew--He'd--come."
-
-They were bending low about him; his weeping wife breathed a long
-farewell. But Madeline saw the last movement of the dying lips, and the
-yearning eyes seemed to bid her listen. Her face was veiled with
-reverent love as she stooped to catch the parting breath; it came, and
-her face became transfigured as by the light of God.
-
-"I'm jest home," she heard him murmur; "I'm jest home."
-
-Gently they let the dear form sink back to its long, long rest. Geordie
-softly closed the eyes, never to give their light again. Then the aged
-man, his frame shaken with the sobs he could not repress, bent down and
-kissed the furrowed brow.
-
-"His battle's past," he said, the words struggling out like driftwood
-through the surge, "an' he was a guid soldier."
-
-And the conqueror lay in noble stillness, the glory of the departed day
-abiding on his face.
-
-
-
-
- *XXXVIII*
-
- _*THE FLEEING SHADOWS*_
-
-
-It was long after midnight, and Harvey's night's work was almost done.
-He was the last one left in the office, and, as far as his duties were
-concerned, everything was almost ready for the waiting press. He had
-just snapped his watch with an exclamation of surprise at the lateness
-of the hour as he hurriedly turned to conclude his writing, when he
-fancied he heard a noise on the step outside his office door.
-
-He thought nothing of it; and the pen flowed faster than before. But
-only a couple of minutes more had passed when a similar sound fell upon
-his ear. And it disturbed him strangely. Perhaps he was nervous, for
-the strain of the night's work had been severe enough--and he was alone.
-The sound, to his ears at least, had something unusual and ominous about
-it--yet he knew not why.
-
-He turned again to complete his work, his glance searching the room a
-moment before he did so. But the disturbance had come from without--the
-room was just as his associates had left it. He tried to concentrate
-his attention; yet a strange feeling possessed him--he felt in a vague,
-restless way, as though he were being watched. His office at the very
-top of the building was almost lonely in its separation; from the
-half-open windows the sleeping city might be seen, wrapped in the
-trailing garments of the dark. His mind seemed strangely sensitive,
-a-quiver almost, as if some influence were borne in upon him from the
-haunted chambers of the night.
-
-Suddenly, impelled by some mysterious impulse, he flung his pen upon the
-table and turned his gaze over his shoulder with a swift motion, fixing
-his eyes on the large pane of glass that formed the upper portion of the
-door.
-
-Involuntarily he uttered a startled cry--for he could see, two or three
-inches from the pane, a human face. And the eyes were wide, and
-fastened upon him with almost fierce intensity. The bearded face was
-pallid and haggard--but the eyes were the outstanding features, gleaming
-with a nameless significance that spoke of a soul stirred with passion.
-They never flinched--even as Harvey sprang from his chair they did not
-turn away. Nothing could be seen but the face--and the impact of the
-unmoving eyes was terrific.
-
-Harvey stood a moment, trembling. The face never moved. Then he strode
-swiftly to the door and flung it wide.
-
-"What's the meaning of this, sir?" he demanded sternly. "What's your
-business here?"
-
-The man's eyes moved only enough to wander slowly about his face. He
-waited till Harvey's lips were framing other words, his hand now on the
-door as if to slam it shut. Then he walked slowly in, his face still
-turned upon the other's. He shut the door himself.
-
-"I want you to look at something," said the man, and the voice was deep
-and passionate.
-
-He was clad in the meanest garments; poor repairs were on them here and
-there. The signs of poverty were everywhere about him, and his whole
-appearance was that of one who had suffered much amid the billows of
-misfortune. He seemed to be struggling hard to resummon something he
-had lost--the quivering lips and the despairing eyes told that he had
-been beaten in the fight, yet not without stern resistance, nor yet left
-without flickerings of the old-time fire. His spirit seemed broken, yet
-not utterly destroyed.
-
-"What are you doing here? What's your business?" Harvey demanded; the
-man was fumbling in the pocket of his coat.
-
-"I'm a printer," he answered, "and one of your foremen gave me work
-to-day. I only began to-night--and I came upstairs to see you. _I knew
-you were here._"
-
-Something in the way he uttered these last words clutched at Harvey's
-heart. "I knew you were here," the man repeated, nodding his head
-slowly, his eyes again on Harvey. And they seemed to melt with a
-strange wild longing, following him with a kind of defiant wistfulness.
-Somehow, like a faint and fleeting dream, Jessie's face--or an
-expression Harvey had often seen upon it--passed like a wraith between
-him and the bearded man.
-
-"Who are you?" he said huskily.
-
-The man's eyes rested a moment on the floor--and he was trembling where
-he stood. Slowly he raised them till they rested on Harvey's pallid
-face. Then they looked long and silently at each other, the dread and
-voiceless dialogue waging--that awesome interchange of soul with soul
-that makes men tremble, when eyes speak to answering eyes as lightning
-calls from peak to peak.
-
-"I'm your father," the low voice said at last, the deep eyes leaping
-towards him in a strange mastery of strength and passion.
-
-Harvey gave a cry and started back. The man followed him, straightening
-as he came, the hungering face out-held a little, pursuing still. The
-younger man retreated farther, gasping; and his eyes, like something
-suddenly released, raced about the unkempt form, surveying boots and
-clothes and beard and brow in an abandonment of candour.
-
-"No, no," he murmured as he kept creeping back, the man following still;
-"no, no, it cannot be."
-
-The stranger's hand was outstretched now. Something whitish was in
-it--and something black. "Look," he said, his lips parting in a weird,
-unearthly smile, "look, and deny it if you can; it's a photograph--and a
-letter."
-
-Harvey stood still; then took them from the outstretched hand. The gas
-jet was just above. He read the letter first--it was his mother's
-handiwork. And the letter breathed of love, and hope, and of impatient
-joy at their approaching wedding-day.
-
-Then he held the sharp-edged tin-type up before him. And then he knew.
-For his eye fell first on his mother's face, sweet with the new-born joy
-of motherhood. And a laughing babe was in her arms--and the man beside
-her, one hand resting on her shoulder, was the man whose panting breath
-he heard, whose burning eyes were fixed upon him now.
-
-"That's you," the man said hoarsely; "and that's your mother--baby
-wasn't born. And I hadn't ever drunk a drop then," he added, a bleating
-cry mingling with the words.
-
-Harvey stood long, looking down. Once the stranger put out his
-hand--but he drew back with the picture, gazing still. The tide of
-battle rose and fell within him. Then his hand shook like an aspen, his
-whole frame trembled, his sight grew blurred and dim. Yet through the
-gust of tears he looked again upon the haggard face--and again, more
-clearly than before, something of Jessie's swam before him. A moment
-later, and his soul, surging like the ocean in a storm, went out in
-primal passion to the quivering man; swiftly, overmasteringly, as if
-forevermore, he took him in his arms.
-
- * * * * * *
-
-"If you'll help me, my son--if you'll help me, I'll try again." The
-flickering gas jet still gave its light above them and the silent stars
-still watched the sleeping city. And the son still held his father in
-the clasp of a long-slumbering, new-awakened love.
-
-"We'll fight it out together--and we'll win," the lips of youth replied.
-"I know all about it, father--and I'll help all I can. I promised
-mother--I promised to bring you, father. Mother's waiting; and I said
-we'd come together--and Jessie, too."
-
-"Will Jessie love me?" the broken voice enquired, the tone plaintive
-with mingled love and fear.
-
-"She's always loved you, father," and the son's voice was thrilling with
-compassion. "We're both your children," and it was pitiful to see the
-strong lips struggling; "we're your children--and we promised mother."
-
-Thus the gentle stream flowed on. And as they talked a new peace flowed
-into the haunted eyes; and the blessed tidings of those he loved--of her
-whose sweet face was even now upon its pillow, and of the one who dwelt
-with God--came with balm and healing to his soul.
-
-"I'll try, Harvey," he said again--"and I'll trust your mother's God."
-
-As Harvey guided him out into the night the quiet stars above him seemed
-to be the very sentinels of heaven. And he marvelled that this wondrous
-charge had come to him at last--over all the waste of years; and that
-the secret plan of the Unseen, its deep design unchanging, had entrusted
-to his hand the fulfillment of his mother's prayers.
-
-
-It was night again; but beautiful. And if any of the Glenallen
-slumberers, a moment waking, heard upon the pavement the tread of two
-silent men, they knew not how holy was the mission that impelled these
-pilgrims of the night. They paused but once, these two; before a
-weather-beaten little house, empty now, its grimy shop-window staring
-out into the dark. But the older man seemed as if he could not look
-enough; like cathedral to reverent saint this squalid building was to
-him. Once the younger man pointed to an upper window--no light gleamed
-from it now--but the other's eyes, even when they had left it far
-behind, turned to caress it with lingering tenderness.
-
-They passed together through the gate that guarded the little city of
-the dead. The moon was hidden; and no word passed between them as they
-made their way to the holy of holies where lay their precious dead. But
-Harvey's hand went out to his father's; and thus they went on together,
-hand in hand through the darkness, as children go beneath life's morning
-sun.
-
-They stopped beside two grassy graves. Nearest to them, at their dewy
-feet, lay the larger mound; the baby's nestled close beside it. The
-older man's head, uncovered, was bowed in reverence; even in the dark
-Harvey could see the stamp of eternity upon his face. The son's love,
-unspeaking, went out in silent passion to his father; so near he seemed,
-so dear, so much his own in that holy hour. Yet the broken heart beside
-him carried a load of anguish of which the son knew nothing; it was torn
-by a tragedy and rended by a memory no other heart could share--and the
-weary eyes looked covetously at the quiet resting-place beside the
-waiting dead.
-
-His tears fell--on the baby's grave. He leaned over, as if he
-saw--first above the one, turning again to the other--and God was busy
-meantime with the wound, the long bleeding, unstaunched wound.
-
-Harvey touched him on the shoulder. He looked a moment into his son's
-face, almost as if surprised to see him there. Then his eyes turned
-again to the lowly mounds, and he sank on his knees between them.
-Reverently, the yearning of the years finding now a voice, he stooped
-low till his lips touched the sod above the mother's face. Then his own
-was upturned to the distant sky, the lips moving.
-
-Harvey knew the broken vow was for God alone. He turned away. The moon
-stole gently forth from the passing cloud; and, as he turned, his eye
-fell on the new-illumined verse graven on the simple stone:
-
- "UNTIL THE DAY BREAK AND THE SHADOWS
- FLEE AWAY"
-
-
-
- THE END
-
-
-
- * * * * * * * *
-
-
-
-
- *By Robert E. Knowles*
-
-
-_The Attic Guest_
-
-_The Web of Time_
-
-_The Dawn at Shanty Bay_
- Decorated and Illustrated by Griselda M. McClure
-
-_The Undertow_
- A Tale of Both Sides of the Sea
-
-_St. Cuthbert's_
- A Parish Romance
-
-
-
-
-
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WEB OF TIME ***
-
-
-
-
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diff --git a/old/old/51198-8.zip b/old/old/51198-8.zip
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+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,14648 +0,0 @@
-.. -*- encoding: utf-8 -*-
-
-.. meta::
- :PG.Id: 51198
- :PG.Title: The Web of Time
- :PG.Released: 2016-02-12
- :PG.Rights: Public Domain
- :PG.Producer: Al Haines
- :DC.Creator: Robert \E. Knowles
- :DC.Title: The Web of Time
- :DC.Language: en
- :DC.Created: 1908
- :coverpage: images/img-cover.jpg
-
-===============
-THE WEB OF TIME
-===============
-
-.. clearpage::
-
-.. pgheader::
-
-.. container:: titlepage center white-space-pre-line
-
- .. vspace:: 4
-
- .. class:: xx-large bold
-
- *THE WEB OF TIME*
-
- .. vspace:: 2
-
- .. class:: medium
-
- *By*
-
- .. class:: large bold
-
- *ROBERT E. KNOWLES*
-
- .. class:: small
-
- *Author of "St. Cuthbert's," "The Undertow,"*
- *"The Dawn at Shanty Bay"*
-
- .. vspace:: 3
-
- .. class:: medium
-
- *New York Chicago Toronto*
- *Fleming H. Revell Company*
- *London and Edinburgh*
-
- .. vspace:: 4
-
-.. container:: verso center white-space-pre-line
-
- .. class:: small
-
- Copyright, 1908, by
- FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY
-
- .. vspace:: 3
-
- .. class:: small
-
- New York: 158 Fifth Avenue
- Chicago: 80 Wabash Avenue
- Toronto: 25 Richmond Street, W.
- London: 21 Paternoster Square
- Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street
-
- .. vspace:: 4
-
-.. container:: dedication center white-space-pre-line
-
- .. class:: medium
-
- To
- My Daughter
-
- .. class:: medium
-
- ELIZABETH ELLIS KNOX KNOWLES
-
- .. class:: medium
-
- whose gentle hands, guided
- from afar, have woven many
- a golden strand into life's
- mysterious web, this book is
- dedicated with unuttered fondness.
-
- .. vspace:: 4
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- CONTENTS
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line
-
-I. `The Ashes on the Hearth`_
-II. `The Wine-Press Alone`_
-III. `Love's Labourer`_
-IV. `The Riches of the Poor`_
-V. `A Flow of Soul`_
-VI. `An Investment`_
-VII. `"Effectual Calling"`_
-VIII. `Of Such is the Kingdom`_
-IX. `A Belated Enquirer`_
-X. `Sheltering Shadows`_
-XI. `Food for Thought`_
-XII. `The Encircling Gloom`_
-XIII. `The Dews of Sorrow`_
-XIV. `The Weighing of the Anchor`_
-XV. `A Parental Parley`_
-XVI. `David the Diplomat`_
-XVII. `Friendship's Ministry`_
-XVIII. `Voices of the Past`_
-XIX. `A Brush With Death`_
-XX. `The Restoring of a Soul`_
-XXI. `A Heated Debate`_
-XXII. `Breakers Ahead`_
-XXIII. `Ingenuity of Love`_
-XXIV. `The Victor's Spoils`_
-XXV. `What Made the Ball so Fine?`_
-XXVI. `"The Fair Sweet Morn Awakes"`_
-XXVII. `A Brother's Mastery`_
-XXVIII. `A Light at Midnight`_
-XXIX. `How David Swept the Field`_
-XXX. `A Journalist's Injunctions`_
-XXXI. `The Trough of the Wave`_
-XXXII. `Harvey's Unseen Deliverer`_
-XXXIII. `Plain Living and High Thinking`_
-XXXIV. `The Overflowing Hour`_
-XXXV. `"Into His House of Wine"`_
-XXXVI. `A Mistress Of Finance`_
-XXXVII. `The Conqueror's Home-Going`_
-XXXVIII. `The Fleeing Shadows`_
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`THE ASHES ON THE HEARTH`:
-
-.. class:: center x-large bold
-
- *THE WEB OF TIME*
-
-.. vspace:: 3
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \I
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *THE ASHES ON THE HEARTH*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"No, father's not home yet—go to sleep,
-dear," and the mother-hand tucked the
-clothes securely about the two snuggling
-forms; "don't ask any more, Harvey, or you'll
-waken Jessie—and go to sleep."
-
-Mrs. Simmons went back to the kitchen, crooning
-softly to the wakeful baby in her arms. Glancing at
-the clock, she marked, with an exclamation of
-surprise, how late it was. "He might be in any minute
-now," she said to herself as she thrust in another
-stick for the encouragement of the already steaming
-kettle. Then she busied herself a few minutes about
-the table; a brief pause, as if pondering, ended in
-her moving quickly towards the pantry, emerging
-a moment later with some little luxury in her hand.
-
-"Poor Ned, this night-work seems so hard—if he's
-working at all," she thought to herself, "and he'll be
-cold and tired when he comes in—hush, baby, isn't
-that your father?" as she laid a finger on the
-crowing lips.
-
-The footfall came nearer, firm and steady, too—at
-which the anxious face lighted up; but a moment
-later it was gone, and silence reigned again. The
-baby seemed, in some mysterious way, to share the
-disappointment; in any case, it became suddenly
-quiet, the big blue eyes gazing up at the mother's.
-The unfathomed depths, as such depths are prone to
-do, seemed to start some hidden springs of thought
-in the woman's mind; for the anxious eyes that
-peered into them were now suffused with tears, then
-bright again with maternal fondness as she clasped
-the infant to her breast.
-
-For she dreaded the home-coming of her husband,
-even while she longed for it. The greatest of all
-books assures us that fear is cast out by love—but
-love may still fear something in the very one it loves
-above all others; some alien habit, some sin that
-changes the whole complexion of a soul. And thus
-was it with the wife who now awaited her husband's
-coming with a troubled heart.
-
-It had not been ever thus. Far different had it
-been in the happy days with which her thoughts
-were busy now as she moved hither and thither,
-doing what deft and loving hands could do to make all
-bright and cheery before her husband should arrive.
-Those vanished days had been happy ones indeed,
-with nothing to cloud their joy.
-
-When Edward Simmons first crossed her path, she
-knew that her hour of destiny had come. He was
-then a journeyman printer—and he was handsome
-and chivalrous and fascinating; sensitive to the last
-degree, imperious by nature, but tender in the
-expression of his love for her. And how rapturously
-sure of the happiness that lay before them both!
-Passionate in temper he undoubtedly was—but tideful
-natures ever are. And he was slower to forgive
-himself than others.
-
-She had been little more than a girl, a fatherless
-girl, when first she met Edward Simmons—Ned, as
-his friends all called him—and in less than a year
-after their meeting she gave herself to him forever.
-Then her real life began, she thought; but before a
-year had passed, it was new-quickened and enriched
-beyond all of which she had ever dreamed. Her
-first-born son came to swell the fullness of her joy,
-and Eden itself broke into flower at his coming.
-The anguish and the ecstasy of motherhood had
-come twice again since then—and she marvelled at
-the new spring of love that each new baby hand
-smites in the wilderness of life.
-
-But the sky had darkened. When at its very
-brightest, the clouds had gathered. Steady
-employment and good wages and careful management had
-enabled her to garner a little, month by month;
-womanlike, she was already taking thought of how
-Harvey should be educated. And just when everything
-seemed prosperous, that awful trouble had
-come among the printers—between the masters and
-the men. Then came strikes and idleness—work by
-spasmodic starts, followed by new upheavals and
-deepening bitterness—and Ned had been more with
-the muttering men than with his Annie and the
-children.
-
-And—this was so much worse—he had gradually
-fallen a victim to a sterner foe. A tainted breath at
-first; later on, thick and confused utterance when he
-came home at night; by and by, the unsteady gait
-and the clouded brain—one by one the dread
-symptoms had become apparent to her. She had
-known, when she married, that his father had been a
-drinker; and one or two of her friends had hinted
-darkly about hereditary appetite—but she had
-laughed at their fears. Hereditary or not, the
-passion was upon him—and growing. Lack of work
-proved no barrier. Little by little, he had prevailed
-on her to give him of her hard-saved treasure, till
-the little fund in the post-office savings was seriously
-reduced.
-
-But there was another feature, darker still. It had
-changed him so. His whole moral nature had
-suffered loss. No wonder the woman's face bore
-tokens of anxiety as she waited and watched through
-the long midnight hours; for drink always seemed
-to clothe her husband with a kind of harshness
-foreign to his nature, and more than once she had
-trembled before his glance and shuddered at his
-words. Against this, even her love seemed
-powerless to avail; for—and it is often so with the
-mysterious woman-heart—she seemed but to love
-him the more devotedly as she felt him drifting out
-to sea. She could only stretch vain hands towards the
-cruel billows amid which she could see his face—but
-the face she saw was ever that of happier days.
-
-Suddenly she started, her heart leaping like a
-hunted hare as she heard, far-off, clear sounding
-through the stillness of the night, the footfall she
-was waiting for. The child's eyes seemed to fasten
-themselves upon the mother's as if they caught the
-new light that suddenly gleamed within them; she
-held her babe close as she went swiftly to the door
-and slipped out into the night. The silent stars
-looked down on the poor trembling form as she
-stood and waited, shivering some—but not with
-cold—listening for the verdict her ears must be
-the first to catch.
-
-She had not long to wait; and the verdict would
-have been plain to any who could have seen her face
-as she turned a moment later and crept back into the
-house. The stamp of anguish was upon it; yet,
-mechanically, the babe's eyes still on hers, she
-took up the little teapot and poured in the boiling
-water—the kettle went on with its monotonous
-melody. She had just time to hurry up and steal a
-glance at the children; they were asleep, thank God.
-
-The baby turned its eyes towards the door as the
-shambling feet came up to it and the unsteady hand
-lifted the latch. The mother pretended to be busied
-about the table, but the eager eyes stole a quick
-glance at her husband, darkening with sorrow as
-they looked. The man threw off his coat as soon as
-he entered.
-
-"I'm hungry," he said in a thick, unnatural voice.
-
-"I've got your supper all ready, dear," the woman's
-low voice returned. She tried hard to keep it
-steady; "and I'll just pour the tea. Are you tired,
-Ned?"
-
-He did not answer. Staggering towards the table,
-he began eating greedily, still upon his feet.
-"To-day's been the devil," he muttered; "I can't eat, I
-tell you—there's only one thing I want, and I've had
-too much of that. But I've got to have it."
-
-"You didn't speak to baby, Ned," she said
-timidly, trying to come closer to him, yet shrinking
-instinctively; "see how she jumps in my arms—she
-knows you, Ned."
-
-"I wish she'd never been born," the man said
-brutally; "it'll only be another hungry mouth—how
-much have we left in the savings?"
-
-"And she was trying to say 'daddy' to-day—and
-once I'm sure she did," the mother went on,
-fearful of his quest and hoping to beguile him thus.
-
-"What's that got to do with it?" he demanded
-angrily, commanding his words with difficulty.
-"The strikers had to give in—and we went back
-to-day. An' the bosses won't take us on
-again—they've sacked us, damn them, and every man of us
-has to come home to his hungry kids. How much
-is left out o' what we've saved?" he repeated,
-tasting a cup of tea, only to let it fall from his
-shaking hand so suddenly that it was spilled about the
-table.
-
-"There's about three hundred, Ned," she said
-hesitatingly. "We did have nearly five, you
-know—we've used such a lot of it lately."
-
-"I want some of it," he said gruffly. "I've got
-to pay into the fund for the men—and anyhow, I
-want money. Who earned it if it wasn't me?"
-
-"Oh, Ned," she began pleadingly, "please don't—please
-don't make me, dear. It's all we've got—and
-it's taken so long to save it; and if times get
-worse—if you don't get work?"
-
-The pitiful debate was waged a little longer.
-Suddenly she noticed—but could not understand—a
-peculiar change that came slowly over his countenance.
-
-"Maybe you're right," he said at last, a leer of
-cunning on his face. "There ain't goin' to be any
-quarrellin' between us, is there? We'll see about it
-to-morrow." His whole tactics changed in a moment,
-the better to achieve his purpose. "You've always
-stood by me, Annie, an' you won't go back on me
-now. Hello, baby," as he tried to snap his limp
-fingers, coming closer to the two.
-
-The child laughed and held out its arms. The
-father's feet scraped heavily on the floor as he shuffled
-towards it. "It knows its dad all right," he said in
-maudlin merriment; "glad to see its old dad—if he
-did get fired. Come, baby, come to your old dad,"
-and he reached out both hands to take it.
-
-The mother's terror was written in her eyes.
-"Oh, don't, Ned—don't, please," she said; "she'll
-catch cold—I've got her all wrapped up."
-
-"I'll keep the blanket round her," he mumbled;
-"come to your old dad, baby," his voice rising a
-little.
-
-But his wife drew back. "Please don't to-night,
-Ned," she remonstrated; "it'll only excite her more—and
-I can't get her to sleep," she pleaded evasively.
-
-His heavy eyes flashed a little. "I want that
-young 'un," he said sullenly, advancing a little; "I
-ain't goin' to eat her."
-
-The mother retreated farther, her lips white and
-set, her eyes leaping from the babe's face to its
-father's. "I can't, Ned," she said; "let us both
-carry her, dear; come, we'll make a chair of our
-hands, like we used to do for Harvey—and I'll keep
-my arm about her, so," and she held out one hand,
-holding the baby firm with the other.
-
-He struck it down. "Give me that young 'un,"
-he said, his nostrils dilating, his voice shaky and
-shrill.
-
-She stood like a wild thing at bay. "I won't,
-Ned, I won't," her voice rang out; "good God, Ned,
-it isn't safe—go back," she cried, her voice ringing
-like a trumpet as she held the now terrified infant to
-her breast, the child rising and falling as her bosom
-heaved in terror.
-
-His eyes, unsteady now no longer, never left her
-face as he moved with a strange dexterity nearer and
-nearer to them both. The woman glanced one
-moment into the lurking depths, all aflame with the
-awful light that tenderness and madness combine to
-give, saw the outstretched hand, felt the fumes
-outbreathing from the parted lips—and with a low
-gurgling cry she sprang like a wounded deer towards
-the door. But he was too quick for her, flinging
-himself headlong against it. Aroused and inflamed
-by the fall, he was on his feet in an instant, clutching
-at her skirt as he arose.
-
-"Give me that young 'un," he said hoarsely;
-"we'll see whose child this is."
-
-The woman's lips surged with the low moaning
-that never ceased as the unequal struggle raged a
-moment, the helpless babe contributing its note of
-sorrow. Suddenly the man got his hands firmly on
-the little arms; and the mother, her instinct quick
-and sensitive, half relaxed her hold as she felt the
-dreadful wrenching of the maddened hands. With
-a gasp he tore the baby from her, reeling backward
-as the strain was suddenly relaxed. Struggling
-desperately, he strove to recover himself. But the
-strain had been too much for the ruined nerves.
-The child fell from his hands, the man's arms going
-high into the air; an instant later he slipped and
-tottered heavily to the floor, the woman springing
-towards them as his outclutching hands seized her
-and bore her heavily down, the man now between
-the two, the silent infant beneath the struggling
-pair.
-
-She was on her feet in the twinkling of an eye,
-tearing him aside with superhuman strength. But
-the baby lay in the long last stillness; its brief
-troubled pilgrimage was at an end. And the little
-dreamers up-stairs still slept on in uncaring
-slumber—nor knew that their long rough journey was at
-hand. And the kettle on the stove still murmured
-its unconscious song.
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center white-space-pre-line
-
- \*      \*      \*      \*      \*      \*
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-
-
-The evil spirit had departed from the man.
-
-It had gone forth with the destroying angel, both
-with their dread work well performed. And the man
-knew—with preternatural acuteness he interpreted
-his handiwork in an instant.
-
-And they knelt together—that is the wonder of
-it—together, above the baby form. Both noted the
-dimpled hand, and the rosebud mouth—both touched
-the flaxen hair. No word of chiding fell—from the
-mother's lips nothing but an inarticulate broken flow,
-sometimes altogether still, like the gurgling of an
-ice-choked brook.
-
-But he was the first to declare that the child was
-dead, maintaining it fiercely, his eye aglow now with
-anguished pity, so different from the weird lustre
-that it had displaced. And she would not believe
-it, dropping one tiny hand that she might chafe the
-other, lest death might get advantage in the chase.
-
-She was still thus engaged when he arose and
-looked about the room for his hat. It was lying
-where he had flung it when he came in an eternity ago.
-
-"Good-bye—till—till the judgment day," he said
-huskily, standing above her, something of the wildly
-supernatural in the tone. He waited long—but she
-spoke no word, nor lifted her eyes from the dead
-face, nor relinquished her stern struggle with the
-complacent Conqueror.
-
-He went out—and was gone with steady step.
-She knew it not. Perhaps it was about half an hour
-later when he returned, opening the door gently and
-passing her swiftly by. A father's yearning sat upon
-the ashen face—he went quickly and softly up the
-stairs. Then he lighted a match, shading it at first
-with his hands lest it should wake the shut eyes—and
-while it lent its fleeting light the stricken
-man drank deep of his children's faces. Then the
-darkness swallowed them up, and he groped his way
-down-stairs and passed out into the night.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-It was still dark when she at last surrendered—but
-to God. And the fire was black and the house
-was cold when she too went out, closing the door
-carefully behind her. She groped about the little porch,
-feeling in every corner; and she examined the tiny
-veranda, and searched through all the neglected
-garden; she even noticed the fragrance of some
-simple flowers—they had planted them together, and
-the children had helped in turn, having one toy
-spade between them. But it was all empty, all still.
-
-"Oh, Ned," she cried softly, passionately, her
-hands outstretched beneath the all-seeing stars, her
-face now the face of age, "oh, Ned, come back—you
-didn't mean to do it and you didn't know.
-Come back, Ned," she cried a little louder, "come
-back to Harvey and Jessie—they'll never know. Oh,
-Ned," as the outstretched hands were withdrawn and
-pressed quickly against her bosom. For it pained
-her—with its mother-burden—and she turned to go
-back to her baby. Then she saw its still face in the
-darkness—and her hands went out again towards the
-night. The silent stars looked down, pitying,
-helpless; she went back to her fatherless and her God.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`THE WINE-PRESS ALONE`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \II
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *THE WINE-PRESS ALONE*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"The woman's name's Simmons, sir—an' she
-took the whole o' this half plot. She
-keeps a little store, mostly sweeties, I
-think," said Hutchins, as he laid his spade against
-the fence. "An' there wasn't no funeral—just her
-an' her two children; she brought the little one here
-from the city—that's where it was buried afore she
-came here to live."
-
-His chief asked the labourer a question in a low
-voice.
-
-"Oh, yes, that was all right," the man answered,
-picking an old leaf from a geranium plant as he spoke.
-"She showed me the original certificate she got in
-the city—or a copy of it, leastways; it said the baby
-came to its death from a fall on the floor. So that
-was all right—I asked the chairman. I couldn't help
-feelin' sorry for the woman, sir; she took on as bad
-as if it was new. An' the two little shavers was
-playin' hide an' seek round the tombstones afore I
-got the little grave filled in—she seemed to be
-terribly alone. It's funny, sir, how hard it is to get
-used to this business—I often says to my missus as
-how no man with kids of his own has any license to
-hire here," and the kindly executioner went off, spade
-in hand, to make a new wound in the oft-riven
-bosom of God's hospitable earth.
-
-The hired helper had told about all that was known
-in Glenallen concerning their new townswoman.
-Indeed, rather more; for comparatively few knew
-anything of the little family gathering that had stood one
-early morning beside the tiny grave. The village
-was small—Glenallen had not yet achieved its fond
-hope that it would outgrow the humiliating state of
-villagehood—and its inhabitants were correspondingly
-well posted in the source, and antecedents, and
-attendant circumstances of all who came to dwell among
-them. But almost all they could ascertain regarding
-Mrs. Simmons was that she had come from the city,
-that she had two children living—as far as they could
-learn, their father was dead—that she had some
-scanty means with which she had embarked on the
-humble enterprise that was to provide her daily
-bread.
-
-And thus far they were correct enough. For the
-first darkness of the great tragedy had no sooner
-overswept her than she began to shrink with an
-unspeakable aversion from all that was associated with
-the old life that had now no memory but pain. Her
-heart turned with wistful yearning towards some spot
-where she might live again the simple country life she
-had known in the early days of childhood. The cold
-selfishness of the city chilled her to the soul. She
-longed for some quiet country place—such as
-Glenallen was—where she might make a living, and live
-more cheaply; where her children might have a
-chance; where the beauty of God's world might do
-its share of healing.
-
-She had known but few in the city, simple folk—and
-they had seemed to care but little. Yet they had
-to be kept in the dark; and the careful story of her
-baby's fall had been an often crucifixion. They
-thought her husband had suddenly been crazed with
-grief, hinting sometimes at the cowardice of his
-desertion—and she made no protest, dissembling with
-ingenious love for his sake and her children's. Few
-were aware when she left the city, and fewer seemed
-to care. She had little to bring—one sacred treasure
-was her chiefest burden—and it slept now beside her.
-And Harvey and Jessie must not know that their
-father was alive—not yet. They would have enough
-to bear; and moreover, who could tell? In any case,
-was he not dead to them?
-
-She never knew exactly what was the cause of
-it—whether blow or shock—nor did she care; but she
-trembled for her children as it became more and more
-certain that her eyesight was failing. It had begun to
-be impaired soon after that very night. Yet she went
-bravely on, clinging to her little ones, clinging to
-life, clinging to hope—even to joy, in a dim,
-instinctive way. And ever, night and day, she guarded the
-dread secret; ever, night and day, she cherished the
-hope that her eyes might look again, if God should
-spare their light, upon the face she had last seen with
-that awful look upon it as it came nearer and nearer
-to her own. So her lips were set tight, lest any
-revealing word should escape to any soul on earth.
-
-And it was not long till the curious residents of
-Glenallen felt that the stranger among them was
-acquainted with grief—but of what sort it was, the most
-vigilant never knew. Thus did she tread the wine-press
-alone, pressing silently along the upward path
-of pain.
-
-And thus had the years gone by.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`LOVE'S LABOURER`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \III
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *LOVE'S LABOURER*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"Cut him off another piece, mother—a bigger
-piece; that there chunk wouldn't satisfy a
-pigeon. Fruit-cake isn't very fillin'—not
-to a boy, leastways, and there's nothin' lonelier than
-one piece of cake inside of a boy that's built for nine
-or ten."
-
-Mr. Borland's merry eyes turned first upon his
-wife's face as he made his plea, then wandered
-towards a distant field, resting upon the diminutive
-figure of a boy.
-
-"Oh, David," answered his wife, her tone indicating
-a measure of shock, "you're so vivid with your
-illustrations. It isn't artistic—I mean about—about
-those inside matters," as she smiled, rather than
-frowned, her mild reproof.
-
-"That's all right, mother; it's true to life, anyhow—an'
-it all deals with his inner bein'; it tells of
-sufferin' humanity," rejoined her husband. "The
-smaller the boy, the bigger the hunk—that's a safe
-rule when you're dealin' in cake. Bully for you,
-mother—that there slice'll come nearer fittin' him,"
-he concluded jubilantly, as his wife completed a piece
-of surgery more generous than before.
-
-"Who was it hired Harvey to pick potatoes,
-father?" inquired Mrs. Borland. "How can he eat
-this without washing his hands?" she continued,
-almost in the same breath; "it's such dirty work."
-
-"You just watch him; that won't trouble him
-much. Boys love sand. It was me that hired him,
-Martha. He come right up to me on the street an'
-took off his hat like I was an earl: 'Can you give
-me any work to do, Mr. Borland?' he says. 'I'm
-going to make enough money to make mother's
-eyes well,' an' the little fellow looked so earnest
-an' so manly, I fair hated to tell him the only kind of
-job I could give him. I just hated to. But I told
-him I wanted some one to pick potatoes. An' Harvey
-brightened right up. 'All right, Mr. Borland,' he
-says, 'I'll come. I'm awful fond of potatoes, an' I
-can pick two at a time—three, if they're not too big,'
-he says, an' I couldn't keep from laughin' to save myself."
-
-"What's the matter with his mother's eyes?" asked
-Mrs. Borland, as she tore the front page from the
-weekly paper, preparing to wrap it about the cake.
-
-"I didn't like to ask him. The little fellow seemed
-to feel real bad about it—an' I never did like to probe
-into things that hurt," replied her husband. "Even
-when I was a boy at school, I never could stand
-seein' a fellow show where he stubbed his toe,"
-continued the homely philosopher, reaching out his hand
-for the little parcel. "There was one thing about the
-boy that took me wonderful," he went on; "I asked
-him would he work by the day or by the bushel, an'
-he said right quick as how he'd do it by the bushel—I
-always like those fellows best that prefers to work
-by the job. Hello, there, old sport," he suddenly
-digressed as a noise from behind attracted him, "an'
-where did you come from? You're always turnin'
-up at cake time. I thought you were goin' to ride
-to Branchton," glancing as he spoke at the riding
-whip the girl held in her hand.
-
-Full of merry laughter were the eyes, so like his
-own, that sparkled upward towards her father's face.
-The wild sweet breath of happy girlhood came panting
-from her lips, half breathless with eager haste;
-while the golden hair, contrasting well with the rosy
-tide that suffused her cheek, and falling dishevelled
-on her shoulders, and the very aroma of health and
-vitality that distilled from her whole form, tall and
-lithe and graceful as it was, might amply justify the
-pride that marked her father's gaze.
-
-"So I was," the chiming voice rejoined. "But I
-turned back. I despise a coward." The eyes flashed
-as she spoke. "And Cecil Craig's one—he's a real
-one," she elaborated warmly. "We met a threshing
-engine half-way out—and of course I was going to
-ride past it. But he wouldn't—he got off and tied his
-horse to a tree. And it broke the lines and got away.
-I was so glad—and I rode on, and Doctor threw me,"
-rubbing her knee sympathetically as she spoke;
-"that's what made me so glad his own horse got
-away," she affirmed savagely, "and the two engine
-men stopped and caught Doctor for me and I got on
-him again—astride this time—and I made him walk
-right up and smell the engine; and Cecil had to walk
-home. The men told him to touch himself up with
-his whip and it wouldn't take him long—and that
-made him awful mad. You see, they knew he was a
-coward. Who's that fruit-cake for?" she inquired
-suddenly, flinging her gloves vigorously towards the
-hat-stand. "I'll just try a piece myself—fruit-cake's
-good for a sore knee," and she attacked it with the
-dexterity that marks the opening teens.
-
-"It's for a little boy that's workin' in the field—little
-Harvey Simmons. He's pickin' potatoes, an' I
-thought a little refreshment wouldn't hurt him," her
-father answered, pointing fieldward as he spoke.
-
-"I know him," the maiden mumbled, her mouth
-full of the chosen remedy; "he goes to school—and
-he always spells everybody down," she added as
-enthusiastically as the aforesaid treatment would
-permit. "Let me take it out to him, father," the
-utterance clearing somewhat.
-
-The father was already handing her the dainty
-parcel when her mother intervened. "No, Madeline, it's
-not necessary for you to take it. It's hardly the
-correct thing, child; I'll call Julia—she can take it out."
-
-"'Tisn't necessary, mother," quoted her husband.
-"I want this here cake to mean something. I'll just
-take it myself," and in a moment he was striding
-energetically across the intervening paddock, the
-untiring form of the little labourer alternately rising and
-falling as he plied his laborious toil.
-
-"Your father is the best-hearted man in the
-county, Madeline," Mrs. Borland ventured when her
-husband was out of hearing.
-
-"He's the best man in the world," the girl
-amended fervently; "and Cecil says his father's a
-member of the Church and mine isn't," she went on
-more vehemently; "he said father didn't believe the
-right things—and I just told him they weren't the
-right things if my father didn't believe them, and I
-wouldn't believe them either," the youthful heretic
-affirmed. "Lally Kerr told me Cecil's father made
-some poor people give him money for rent that they
-needed for a stove—I didn't want to tell Cecil that,
-but when he said his father believed all the right
-things I told him my father did all the good things,
-and he was kind to the poor—and I told him he was
-kind to them because he was poor once himself and
-used to work so hard with his hands, and——"
-
-"Why, child," and the mother frowned a little,
-"where did you get that idea? Who told you that?"
-
-"Father told me," replied the child promptly.
-"He told me himself, and I think I heard him
-telling Cecil's father that once too—Cecil's father
-wanted not to give so much money to the men that
-worked for him. I think they were talking about
-that, and that was when father said it," the
-unconscious face looking proudly up into her mother's.
-
-"You don't need to speak about it, dear; it
-doesn't sound well to be—to be boasting about your
-father, you know. Now run away and get ready for
-lunch; father 'll be back in a minute."
-
-The child turned to go upstairs, singing as she
-went, forgetful of the mild debate and blissfully
-ignorant of all the human tumult that lay behind it,
-conscious only of a vague happiness at thought of
-the great heart whose cause she had championed in
-her childish way. Less of contented joy was on the
-mother's face as she looked with half exultant eyes
-upon the luxury about her, trophies of the wealth
-that had been so welcome though so late.
-
-Prompted by the conversation with Madeline, her
-mind roamed swiftly over the bygone years; the
-privations of her early married life, the growing
-comfort that her husband's toil had brought, the
-trembling venture into the world of manufacture, the
-ensuing struggle, the impending failure, the turning
-tide, the abundant flow that followed—and all the
-fairy-land into which increasing wealth had borne
-her. Of all this she thought as she stood amid the
-spoils—and of the altered ways and loftier friends,
-of the whirl and charm of fashion, of the bewildering
-entrance into such circles of society as their little
-town afforded, long envied from afar, now pouring
-their wine and oil into still unhealing wounds.
-Dimly, too, it was borne in upon her that her
-husband's heart, lagging behind her own, had been
-content to tarry among the simple realities of old,
-unspoiled by the tardy success that had brought with
-it no sense of shame for the humble days of yore,
-and had left unaltered the simplicity of an honest,
-kindly heart.
-
-Her husband, in the meantime, had arrived at the
-side of his youthful employee, his pace quickening
-as he came nearer to the lad, the corners of his
-mouth relaxing in a sort of unconscious smile that
-bespoke the pleasure the errand gave him. Absorbed
-in his work, and hearing only the rattle of the
-potatoes as they fell steadily into the pail beside
-him, the boy had not caught the approaching footfalls;
-he gave a little jump as Mr. Borland called
-him by his name.
-
-"Here's a little something for you, my boy—the
-missus sent it out."
-
-Harvey straightened himself up, clapped his
-hands together to shake the dust from them, and
-gravely thanked his employer as he received the
-little package. Slowly unwrapping it, his eye
-brightened as it fell on a sight so unfamiliar; in an
-instant one of the slices was at his lips, a gaping
-wound in evidence as it was withdrawn. A moment
-later the boy ceased chewing, then slowly resumed
-the operation; but now the paper was refolded over
-the remaining cake, and Harvey gently stowed it
-away in the pocket of his blouse.
-
-"What's the matter?" inquired Mr. Borland
-anxiously. "Aren't you well—or isn't it good?" The
-boy smiled his answer; other reply was unnecessary
-and inadequate.
-
-"Goin' to take it home?" the man asked
-curiously.
-
-"No, sir. I'm just going to keep it a little while,"
-the youngster replied, looking manfully upward as he
-spoke, a little gulp bespeaking the final doom of the
-morsel he had taken. "You don't mind, sir?" he
-added respectfully.
-
-"Me mind! What would I mind for? You're
-quite right, my boy—it's a mighty good thing when
-a fellow finds out as young as you are that he can't
-eat his cake and have it too; it takes most of us a
-lifetime to learn that. How old are you, Harvey—isn't
-that your name?"
-
-"Yes, sir. I'm most fourteen," the boy answered,
-stooping again to resume his work.
-
-"Do you go to school?" the man inquired presently.
-
-"Mostly in the winter, sir; not very much in the
-summer. But I do all I can. You see, I have to
-help my mother in the store when she needs me.
-But I'm going to try the entrance next summer," he
-added quickly, the light of ambition on his face.
-
-"Where is your mother's store?" asked Mr. Borland.
-
-"It's that little store on George Street, next to the
-Chinese laundry. It has a red door—and there's a
-candy monkey in the window," he hastened to add,
-this last identification proffered with much
-enthusiasm.
-
-A considerable silence followed, broken only by
-the rattling potatoes as they fell. "Mr. Borland,
-could you give me work in your factory?" the boy
-inquired suddenly, not pausing for an instant in his
-work.
-
-"In the factory!" echoed Mr. Borland. "I
-thought you were going to school."
-
-"I could work after four," replied the boy.
-"There's two hours left."
-
-Mr. Borland gazed thoughtfully for a moment.
-"'Twouldn't leave you much time to play," he said,
-smiling down at Harvey.
-
-"I don't need an awful lot of play," the boy
-returned gravely; "I never got very much used to it.
-Besides, I've got a lot of games when I'm delivering
-little parcels for mother—games that I made up
-myself. Sometimes I play I'm going round calling
-soldiers out because there's going to be a war—and
-sometimes I play I'm Death," he added solemnly.
-
-"Play you're Death!" cried the startled man.
-"What on earth do you mean by that? I thought
-no one ever played that game but once," he
-concluded, as much to himself as to the boy.
-
-"Oh, it's this way, you see—it's one of the
-headlines in the copy-book that pale Death knocks
-with—with—impartial steps at the big houses and the
-little cottages—something like that, anyhow. And it's
-a good deal the same with me," the boy responded
-gravely, looking up a moment as he spoke. "It's a
-real interesting game when you understand it. Of
-course I'm not very pale," he continued slowly, "but
-I can feel pretty pale when I want to," he concluded,
-smiling at the fancy.
-
-Mr. Borland was decidedly interested. And well
-he might have been. For there was just enough of
-the same mystic fire in his own heart, untutored
-though it was, to reveal to him the beauty that
-glowed upon the boyish face before him. The lad
-was tall for his years, well-formed, lithe, muscular;
-dishevelled by his stooping toil, a wealth of nut-brown
-hair fell over an ample forehead, almost overshading
-the large blue eyes that were filled with the peculiar
-shining light which portrays the poetic mind. His
-features were large, not marked by any particular
-refinement, significant rather of the necessity—yet also
-of the capacity—for moral struggle; distended nostrils,
-marking fullness of life and passion, sensitive to the
-varying emotions that showed first in the wonderful
-eyes; a deep furrow ran from nose to lips, the latter
-large and full of rich red blood, but finely formed,
-curving away to delicate expression at either side,
-significant of a nature keenly alive to all that life
-might have to give—such lips as eloquence requires,
-yet fitted well together, expressive of an inner spirit
-capable of the firmness it might sorely need.
-
-"Could you drive a horse, lad?" the man suddenly
-inquired, after a long survey of the unconscious
-youth.
-
-Harvey hesitated. "I think I could, sir, if the
-horse was willing. Sometimes we play horse at
-school, and I get along pretty well."
-
-Mr. Borland looked keenly, but in vain, for any
-trace of merriment on the half-hidden face. "I
-drove the butcher boy's horse once or twice, too.
-And I managed all right, except when it backed
-up—I hate to drive them when they're backing up,"
-the boy added seriously, with the air of an
-experienced horseman.
-
-Mr. Borland laughed. "That's jest where it comes
-in," he said; "any one can drive anything when it's
-goin' ahead—it's when things is goin' back that tries
-your mettle. I'll see what I can do. Some of our
-horses drives frontwards—horses is pretty evenly
-divided between the kind that goes frontwards and
-them that won't," he mused aloud as he walked
-away. "I've struck a heap of the last kind—they
-backed up pretty hard when I was your age,"
-Harvey could just overhear as he plucked the dead
-vines from another mound and outthrew its lurking
-treasures.
-
-
-
-
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- *THE RICHES OF THE POOR*
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-The retreating figure had no sooner gained
-the house in the distance than Harvey
-began to cast glances, eager and expectant,
-towards the road that skirted the outer edge of the
-field in which he was working. Once or twice he
-straightened up, wincing a little with the ache that
-long stooping brings, and peered intently towards
-the top of a distant hill beyond which he could not
-see. Suddenly his eye brightened, and a muffled
-exclamation of pleasure broke from his lips, for the
-vision he longed for had appeared. Yet it was
-commonplace enough—only a coloured sunbonnet, some
-four or five feet from the ground, and swaying a little
-uncertainly in the noontide light. But it was
-moving nearer, ever nearer, to the waiting boy, who
-knew the love that lent strength to the little feet
-and girded the tiny hands which bore something for
-himself.
-
-The girlish form was now well beyond the curving
-hill, trudging bravely on; and Harvey saw, or
-thought he saw, the happy smile upon the eager
-face, the pace quickening as she caught sight of her
-brother in the distance. Harvey's eyes filled with
-tenderness as he gazed upon the approaching child;
-for the poor, if they love and are loved again, know
-more of life's real wealth than the deluded rich.
-
-A few minutes more and she was at the bars,
-panting but radiant. Harvey ran to lay them down,
-taking the bundles from her hands. "Oh, but my
-arms ache so," the girl said, as she sank upon the
-grass; "it must be lovely to have a horse."
-
-"Some day we will," her brother returned abruptly.
-"You just wait and see—and then you won't ever
-walk anywhere. But you oughtn't to carry these all
-this way, Jessie; I could bring it in my pocket just
-as well."
-
-The girl's face clouded a little. "But then it gets
-so cold, Harvey—and what's in there ought to be
-nice and warm," she said hopefully, nodding towards
-the pail. "Mother heated the can just when we put
-it in, and I came as fast as ever I could, so it
-wouldn't cool—and I held it in the hot sun all the
-time," she concluded triumphantly, proud of her
-ingenuity.
-
-"That's lovely, Jessie," replied the boy; "and
-you're quite right," he went on, noticing the flitting
-sign of disappointment. "I just hate cold things—and
-I just love them hot," he affirmed as he removed
-the lid.
-
-Jessie bended eagerly over it and the faint steam
-that arose was as beautiful to her eyes as was ever
-ascending incense to priestly ministrant.
-
-"It's hot, Harvey! I thought it would be," she
-cried. "Mother was so anxious for you to have a
-nice dinner—I knew that was what you liked," as an
-exclamation of delight came from the boy. "Mother
-said she never saw such a boy for meat-pies as you.
-And there's something further down, that you like
-too—they're under a saucer, and they have butter
-and sugar both, on them. No, you'd never guess
-what it is—oh, that's not fair," she cried, "you're
-smelling; any one can guess what it is if they smell,"
-laughing merrily as she tried to withdraw the pail
-beyond the range of his olfactory powers.
-
-"It's pancakes!" pronounced her brother, sniffing
-still.
-
-"Yes, of course—but you never would have
-guessed. Mother made them the very last thing
-before I started. And I cried when she was putting
-them in—oh, Harvey, it was so sad," the girl burst
-out with trembling voice, her hands going to her
-face as she spoke. "And mother cried too," she
-added, looking out at her brother through swimming
-eyes.
-
-Harvey halted in his attack. "What for? What
-were you crying about?" he asked earnestly, the food
-still untasted.
-
-"It was about mother's eyes. You see, she put
-the pancakes on the table beside the stove—and
-there was a pile of table mats beside them. Well,
-when mother went to put them into the pail, she
-took up the mats instead—never knew the difference
-till she felt them. And I could see how sad it made
-her—she said she was afraid she soon wouldn't see
-at all; and I just couldn't keep from crying. Oh,
-Harvey," the shaking voice went eagerly on, "don't
-you think we'll soon be able to send her to the city
-to see the doctor there?—everybody says he could
-cure the right eye anyhow; mother thinks the left
-one's gone. Don't you think we will, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey looked into space, a large slice of the
-tempting pie still in his hand. "I'm hoping so," he
-said—"I made almost thirty cents this morning; I
-counted it up just before you came—and there's the
-two dollars I made picking raspberries that mother
-doesn't know about—it's in that knot-hole in the
-closet upstairs, you know. And maybe Mr. Borland's
-going to give me more work—I asked him,
-and then——"
-
-"I told mother I was going to sell Muffy," his
-sister broke in impulsively. "But she said I
-mustn't; I guess she's awful fond of Muffy, she cried
-so hard."
-
-"I'd hate to sell Muffy," the boy responded judicially;
-"she's the only one that always lays big eggs.
-And then, besides, they might kill her and eat her
-up—rich people nearly always do their hens that
-way." Two pairs of eyes darkened at thought of a
-tragedy so dread.
-
-"We wouldn't, even if we was rich, would we,
-Harvey?" the girl resumed earnestly.
-
-"No, not with Muffy," Harvey assured her.
-"They're awful rich over there," he volunteered,
-pointing to the large stone house in the distance.
-
-"It must be lovely," mused the girl. "We could
-have such lots of lovely things. Why don't you eat
-your dinner, Harvey?—it'll get so cold."
-
-"I don't want it much," replied her brother. "You
-see, I had a pretty good breakfast," he explained
-cheerfully.
-
-The loving eyes, still moist, gazed into his own.
-She was so young, some years younger than he, and
-as inexperienced almost as a child could be; yet the
-stern tuition of poverty and sorrow had given
-something of vision to the eyes that looked so wistfully
-out upon the plaintive face before her. She noted
-his shabby dress, the patches on his knees, the boots
-that stood so sorely in need of impossible repairs,
-the grimy stains of toil from head to foot, the
-furrowed channels that the flowing perspiration had left
-upon his face. And a great and mysterious pity
-seemed to possess her. She felt, dimly enough, yet
-with the sad reality of truth, that her brother had
-hardly had a chance in life's unequal struggle. His
-tenderness, his unselfishness, his courage, all these she
-recognized, though she could not have called them
-by their names. She knew how ardently he longed
-to do so much that chill penury forbade; and as she
-glanced at the dust-covered pile in the distance that
-his toil had gathered, then back at the tired figure on
-the grass, all stained and spotted, the food he so much
-needed untasted in his sorrow, she felt more and
-more that there was only one hero in the world,
-however baffled and unrecognized he might be.
-
-"Mother'll be so disappointed," the girl pleaded,
-"if you don't eat it, Harvey; she tried so hard to
-make it nice. Besides, I'll just have to carry it back,"
-she suddenly urged, a note of triumphant expectation
-in her voice; "and it was real heavy, too," well
-pleased with the culminating argument.
-
-The boy hesitated, then slowly raised the tempting
-morsel to his lips. "I didn't have such an awful
-lot of breakfast," he conceded; "I really am pretty
-hungry—and it was so good of you to fetch it to me,
-sister," his gaze resting affectionately on her.
-
-A long silence ensued, Jessie watching delightedly
-as the little repast was disposed of, entertaining her
-brother the while with a constant stream of talk, all
-fed from the fountain-head of their own little circle,
-their own humble and struggling life. But however
-far afield her speech, with her thought, might
-wander, it kept constantly returning to the one central
-figure of their lonely lives, to her from whom their
-own lives had sprung; and the most unobservant
-listener would soon have known that the unselfish
-tenderness, the loving courage, of the mother-heart
-that had warmed and sheltered their defenseless lives,
-was reaping now its great and rich reward.
-
-Jessie had reverted again to the dark shadow that
-overhung them both, their mother's failing eyesight;
-and two earnest little faces looked very soberly one
-into the other, as though they must together beat
-back the enemy from the gate.
-
-Suddenly Harvey broke the silence. "I'm pretty
-sure she's going to get well," he said earnestly,
-holding the bottle in one hand and the glass stopper in
-the other. "I had a dream last night that—that
-comforted me a lot," he went on, slightly embarrassed
-by the fanciful nature of his argument; he could see
-that Jessie had hoped for something better. "I
-dreamed I was walking some place on a country
-road. And it was all dark—for mother, at least—it
-was awful dark, and I was leading her by the hand.
-I thought there was something troubling her that
-you didn't know about—nor me—nobody, only
-mother. Well, just when we were groping round in
-the dark, a great big black cloud broke up into little
-bits, and the sun came out beautiful—just like—like
-it is now," he described, glancing towards the orb
-above them. "Of course, that was only in my
-dream—but we went straight on after that and
-mother could see to walk just as well as me," he
-concluded, smiling as hopefully as if dreams were the
-only realities of life.
-
-Jessie, holding her sunbonnet by both strings and
-swinging it gently to and fro, had a curious look of
-interest, not unmixed with doubt, upon her childish
-face. "That was real nice, Harvey," she said slowly
-at length, "but I don't just understand. You see,
-people always dream their dreams at night—and the
-sun couldn't come out at night; anyhow it never does."
-
-Harvey gazed indulgently. "It can do anything
-when you're dreaming," he said quickly, a far-off
-look in his thoughtful eyes. "That's when all the
-wonderful things happen," he went on, still looking
-absently across the fields. "Poor folks have just as
-good a time as rich folks, when they're asleep," he
-concluded, his voice scarcely audible.
-
-"But they know the difference when they wake
-up," retorted his sister, plucking a clover leaf eagerly.
-"Only three leaves!" she exclaimed contemptuously,
-tossing it aside. "Yes, it's very different when they
-wake up—and everybody's awake more than they're
-asleep," she affirmed, as confident in her philosophy
-as he in his.
-
-Her brother said nothing as he proceeded to fold
-up the rather generous remains of his dinner; poor
-laddie, he knew the taste of bread eaten with tears,
-even if he had never heard the phrase. His face
-brightened a little as his hand went out to the pocket
-of his blouse, extracting a parcel wrapped in paper.
-He held it with both hands behind his back,
-uncovering it the while.
-
-"Shut your eyes, Jessie—and open your mouth,"
-he directed, as enthusiastically as though the formula
-were being tested for the first and only time.
-
-Jessie obeyed with a confidence born of long experience,
-and her brother, all care vanished meanwhile
-from his face, held the plum-cake to her lips. "Now,
-bite," he said. Jessie, already faintly tasting, made a
-slight incision. "Oh, Jessie, bite bigger—bite bigger,
-Jessie!" he cried in dismay; "you're just trying how
-little you can take—and I kept it for you." But
-Jessie's eyes were wide open now, fixed on the unwonted
-luxury. "Too much isn't good for little girls," she
-said quaintly, swallowing eagerly, nevertheless; "I'll
-eat one piece if you'll eat the other, Harvey," she
-said, noticing the double portion.
-
-"I'm keeping mine for mother," said the boy
-resolutely.
-
-"So'm I," the other exclaimed before his words
-were out. "I'd sooner have the pancakes, anyhow,"
-she added, fearing his protest. "Will you take it to
-her, Harvey—or me?"
-
-"I think you'd better," replied her brother, "and
-I'll eat the rest of the dinner if you'll promise to eat
-your part of the cake when you get home."
-
-Jessie nodded her consent, and a few minutes saw
-Harvey's portion of the contract nobly executed, his
-sister as satisfied as he.
-
-
-
-
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-Good Dr. Fletcher always said a little
-longer grace than usual when he dined at
-Mr. Craig's. Whether this was due to the
-length of the ensuing meal, or to the long intervals
-that separated these great occasions, or to the wealth
-that provided them, or to the special heart-needs of
-the wealthy, it were difficult to say. But one thing
-is beyond all doubt, and that is that the good
-minister of the Glenallen Presbyterian Church would no
-more have thought of using an old grace at Mrs. Craig's
-table than she herself would have dreamed of
-serving the same kind of soup, or repeating a dessert
-whose predecessor was within the call of memory.
-
-On this particular evening Dr. Fletcher's invocation
-had been particularly long, due perhaps to the
-aroma, more than usually significant, that had
-escaped the kitchen to assure the sanguine guests; and
-a sort of muffled amen broke from their waiting lips,
-soon to confirm the word by all sincerity of action.
-This amen was doubtless due in part to gratitude for
-what had ended, as well as to anticipation of what was
-about to be begun. Cecil Craig, seated beside his
-mother, took no part in the terminal devotion; long
-before the time to utter it, his open eyes were turned
-towards the door through which the servants were to
-enter, and from which, so far as he could reckon, all
-blessings flow.
-
-Soup came first, and young Craig dauntlessly led
-on in the attack. His mother tried eagerly to
-call to his attention, and to his alone, that he had
-seized the spoon meant for his dessert; but Cecil was
-already in full cry, the mistaken weapon plying like a
-paddle-wheel between his plate and his mouth—and
-no signal of distress could reach him. The most
-unfortunate feature of it all, however, was the speedy
-plight of one or two timorous guests, who, waiting
-for the lead of any members of the family, had
-followed Cecil's; and, suddenly detecting whither he had
-led them, were soon floundering sadly in such a
-slough of despond as they scarce escaped from during
-the entire meal.
-
-Mr. and Mrs. Borland were there, one on either
-side of Dr. Fletcher; and the light of temporary
-peace was upon Mrs. Borland's brow—for the Craigs'
-home was nearer to a mansion than any other in
-Glenallen. A slight shade of impatience flitted
-across her face as she glanced athwart Dr. Fletcher's
-portly form, surveying her husband's bosom swathed
-in snowy white, his napkin securely tucked beneath
-his chin. But David was all unconscious, the region
-beneath the napkin being exceeding comfortable; for
-the soup was good, and her spouse bade fair to give
-Cecil a stern chase for the honours of the finish.
-
-Soup is a mighty lubricant of the inward parts;
-wherefore there broke out, when the first course was
-run, a very freshet of conversation; and the most
-conspicuous figure in the flow was that of Mr. Craig.
-He had the advantage, of course, of an erect position,
-for he had risen to inaugurate his attack upon the
-helpless fowl before him; an entrance once effected,
-he would resume his seat.
-
-"It beats me," he was saying, glancing towards
-Dr. Fletcher as he spoke, "it beats me how any
-man can go and see sick folks every day—I'd sooner
-do hard labour. Don't you get awful tired of it,
-Doctor?"
-
-The minister's gentle face flushed a little—the
-same face at sight of which the sad and the weary
-were wont to take new hope. "I don't think you
-understand it, Mr. Craig," he answered quietly;
-"any one who regards it as you do could never see
-the beauty of it—it all depends on what you take
-with you."
-
-"Good heavens, do you have to take things with
-you?" cried the astonished host. "Matters are
-come to a pretty pass when they expect a poor
-preacher to be giving—as well as praying," he
-affirmed, affirmed, savagely at the victim on the
-platter.
-
-David Borland was listening intently, nabbing
-dexterously the while at a tray of salted almonds
-that lay a good arm's length away from him. "The
-minister's quite right," he now broke in; "you don't
-understand, Mr. Craig—Dr. Fletcher don't mean that
-he takes coal an' tea, when he visits poor folks. But
-what he says is dead true just the same—any one
-can carry a bag of turnips, or such like, to any one
-that's willin' to take 'em. But a minister's got to
-give somethin' far more than that; even on Sundays—at
-least that's my idea of it—even on Sundays,
-what a preacher gives is far more important than what
-he says."
-
-"You mean he ought to give himself," Mrs. Craig
-suggested, stirring the gravy as she spoke, the
-dismembered turkey being now despatched to its
-anointing.
-
-"That's it exactly," rejoined David, beaming on
-his hostess, her own face aglow with the gentle light
-that flows from a sympathetic heart. "Everythin's
-jest a question of how much you give of your own
-self; even here," his voice rising as he hailed the
-happy illustration, "even in this here house—with
-this here bird—we ain't enjoyin' it because we're
-gettin' so much turkey, but because we're gettin' so
-much Craig," he went on fervently. "I could buy
-this much turkey for a quarter," passing a well-laden
-plate as he spoke, "for twenty-five cents at an eatin'
-house—but it wouldn't jest taste the same. It
-wouldn't have the Craig taste, you see—there wouldn't
-be no human flavour to it, like; an' turkey ain't
-nothin' without a human flavour. That's what makes
-everythin' taste good, you see," he concluded,
-smiling benignly around on the assembled guests.
-
-"I don't believe in any such," retorted Mr. Craig;
-"no mixture of that kind for mine. Turkey's one
-thing, and humanity's another—no stews for me," he
-directed, smiling broadly at this flash of unaccustomed
-wit; "people eat turkey—but not humanity," he
-concluded victoriously.
-
-"You're wrong there," replied David Borland
-quickly. "Folks lives on humanity—only it's got
-to be served warm," he added, falling to upon the
-turkey nevertheless.
-
-"What do you think about it, Doctor?" Mrs. Borland
-enquired absently, for her real concern was with
-David; his dinner knife was her constant terror when
-they were dining out. All was well so far, however,
-her husband devoting it as yet to surgery alone.
-
-"I think exactly what your husband thinks,"
-replied the minister. "He has said the very thing I
-have often wished to say. I have always felt that
-what a preacher *gives* to his people—of his heart
-and love and sympathy—is far more than what he
-*says* to them. If it were not so, they'd better stay
-home and read far finer things than he can say; I
-often feel that preparing to preach is far more
-important than preparing a sermon. And I think the
-same holds true of all giving—all philanthropy, for
-instance. What you give of yourself to the poor is
-far more than what you give from your pocketbook—and,
-if the truth were told, I believe it's what the
-poor are looking for, far more than they are for
-money." The tenderness in Dr. Fletcher's face and
-the slight quiver in his voice attested the sincerity of
-his feeling; they might, too, have afforded no little
-explanation of the love that all Glenallen felt for the
-humble and kindly man.
-
-Mr. Craig laughed; and that laughter was the key
-to his character. Through that wave of metallic
-merriment, as through a tiny pane, one might see
-into all the apartments of a cold and cheerless heart.
-
-"That's mighty pretty, Doctor," he began jocosely;
-"but if I was poor I'd sooner have the cash—give
-me the turkey, and you can have the humanity. I
-believe in keeping these things separate, Dr. Fletcher,"
-he went on sagaciously; "no mixin' up business with
-religion, for me—of course, helping the poor isn't
-exactly religion, but it comes mighty near it. And
-if I give anything to the poor—I used to, too, used
-to give—to give so much every year, till I found out
-one family that bought a watermelon with it, and
-then I thought it was about time to stop. But when
-I used to—to give to the poor, I always did it
-strictly as a matter of business; just gave so much
-to—to an official—and then I didn't want to know
-how he dispensed it, or who got it, or anything
-about it."
-
-"Did the—the official—did he give all his time to
-dispensin' it, Mr. Craig? Or did he just do it nights
-and after hours?" enquired David Borland, detaching
-his napkin from his upper bosom and scouring an
-unduly merry mouth with it the while.
-
-Mr. Craig glanced suspiciously at his guest. "I
-didn't wish to know," he replied loftily in a moment;
-"all I'm making out is the principle that governed
-me. And I always take the same stand in my
-business—always assume the same attitude towards my
-men," he amplified, as proud of his language as of
-his attitude. "Of all the men I've got hired, I don't
-believe I know a half dozen except the foremen. I
-get their work, and they get their pay every second
-and fourth Tuesday—and that's the end of it."
-
-"You don't know how much you miss," the minister
-ventured, quite a glow of colour on his otherwise
-pallid cheek. "There's nothing so interesting as
-human life."
-
-"You bet—that's just it," chimed David's robust
-voice; "that's where a fellow gets his recreation. I
-don't think I'm master of my business till I know
-somethin' about my men—there ain't no process, even
-in manufacturing half so interestin' as the doin's
-of folks in their own lives. I know lots of their
-wives, too, an' half the kids—please give me a little
-more stuffin', Mrs. Craig: it's powerful good," and
-David passed his plate as cheerfully as his opinion.
-
-"That may be your way of taking your recreation,
-Mr. Borland, but it isn't mine," retorted the host,
-obviously a little ruffled. "Business on business lines,
-that's my motto. Just the other day a little gaffer
-asked me for work, on the plea that he wanted to fix
-up his mother's eyes—wanted to send her to a
-specialist, I think—and I told him that had nothing to do
-with the case; if I wanted him I'd take him, and if I
-didn't, nobody's eyes could make any difference."
-
-"Was his name Harvey Simmons?" David enquired
-somewhat eagerly.
-
-"I believe it was. Why, what do you know about him?"
-
-"Oh, nothin' much—only I hired him. And he
-isn't goin' to have no blind mother if my givin' him
-work will help—that's more. She's got a son worth
-lookin' at—that's one thing sure. An' he earned
-every penny I ever gave him, too—what was you
-goin' to say, Doctor?" For he saw the minister had
-something to offer.
-
-"I know the little fellow well," said Dr.
-Fletcher, evidently glad of the opportunity. "Poor
-little chap, he's had hard lines—his father was a slave
-to drink, I believe, and the poor mother has fought
-about as good a fight as I ever saw. I'm sure she
-carries about some burden of sorrow nobody knows
-anything about. She has two children. Well, a long
-time ago now, one of the richest couples in my church
-offered to adopt the little girl—and they got me to
-sound her on the subject. Goodness me! You
-should have seen the way the woman stood at bay.
-'Not till the last crust's gone,' she said. She was
-fairly roused; 'I'm richer than they are,' she said;
-'I've got my two children, and I'll keep them as long
-as I can lift a hand to toil for them.' Really, I
-never felt more rebuked in my life—but I admired
-her more than I could tell. And the wee fellow raged
-like a little lion. 'Did he want to take sister?—tell him
-to go home, mother,' and he was fairly shouting and
-stamping his little foot, though the tears were
-running down his cheeks all the while. I said she had
-two children," the minister added, "but I think she
-lost a baby through some sad accident years ago."
-
-David Borland's eyes were glistening. "Bully for
-you, Doctor!" his voice rang through the room.
-"Bully for you—I knew the lad was worth stickin'
-to. I'm proud to be mixed up with a chap like
-that," thumping the table as he spoke.
-
-"That's what I often say to Peter," Mrs. Craig
-began mildly during the pause that followed. "I often
-feel what you sometimes say in your sermons,
-Doctor—that we ought all to be mixed up a little more
-together. The rich and the poor, I mean. They
-need us, and we need them—and we both have our
-own parts to play in the great plan."
-
-"That's it, Mrs. Craig," David broke in lustily
-again; "that's exactly it—last Sunday when we sang
-that line, 'My web of time He wove,' I jest stopped
-singin'—it struck me, like it never done before, as
-how God Himself couldn't weave much without us
-helpin' Him—the rich an' the poor—it's Him that
-designs, but it's us that has to weave. An' I reckon
-our hands has got to touch—if they're workin' on the
-same piece," he concluded, drinking in the approving
-smile with which Dr. Fletcher was showing his
-appreciation of the quaint philosophy.
-
-A considerable silence followed, the host showing
-no disposition to break it. Cecil was the first
-to speak.
-
-"Harvey wears patches on his knees," he informed
-the company. "What is there for dessert, mother?"
-
-Mrs. Craig whispered the important information;
-the radiant son straightway published it to the world:
-"Plum pudding!—I like that—only I hope it has
-hard sauce."
-
-Which it ultimately proved to have—and to Mrs. Borland's
-great dismay. For David, loyal to ancient
-ways, yet ever open to the advantage of modern
-improvement, passed back his plate for a second
-helping.
-
-"I used to think the kind of gravy-sauce you
-slashed all over it was the whole thing—but I believe
-that ointment's got it beat," he said; whereat
-Mrs. Borland laid her spoon upon her plate, the ointment
-and the anointed untasted more.
-
-
-
-
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- *AN INVESTMENT*
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-
-David Borland stood quite a little while
-gazing at the contents of the window before
-he entered the tiny store. Rather scanty
-those contents were; a few candy figures, chiefly
-chocolate creations, a tawdry toy or two, some
-samples of biscuits judiciously assorted, a gaudy tinselled
-box of chewing-gum, and a flaming card that
-proclaimed the merits of a modern brand of tea.
-
-These all duly scrutinized, David pushed the door
-open and entered the humble place of business. The
-opening door threw a sleigh-bell, fastened above it,
-into quite an hysterical condition, and this in turn
-was answered by hurrying footsteps from the inner
-room. It was Harvey who appeared.
-
-"Good-morning, Mr. Borland," the boy said
-respectfully. "Did you want to see mother?" he
-enquired a little anxiously; "she's gone to the market,
-but I think she'll soon be back."
-
-"That's all right, my boy," the man responded.
-"No, it wasn't your mother I wanted; it was
-you—I come to do a little business."
-
-"Oh," said Harvey, glancing hopefully towards
-the window.
-
-"'Tain't exactly shop business," David said, a little
-nervously, "I come to—to buy a hen," he blurted out.
-Harvey's hand went like lightning into the glass
-case. Withdrawn, it produced a candy creature of
-many colours, its comb showing the damage that
-vandal tongues had done. "Totty Moore licked at
-it once or twice when we wasn't lookin'," he
-explained apologetically; "it used to be in the
-window—it's a settin' hen," he enlarged, indicating with
-his finger a pasty pedestal on which the creative
-process was being carried on.
-
-David grinned broadly. "'Tain't that kind of a
-hen I'm wantin'," he said. "I want the real
-article—a real live two-legged hen."
-
-"Oh," said Harvey, staring hard.
-
-"Where's your chicken-house?" enquired David,
-coming to business direct.
-
-"It's outside," the boy replied instructively—"but
-there ain't very many."
-
-"Let's go and see them," said the man.
-
-The boy led the way, David ducking his head several
-times en route, bowing profoundly at the last as
-they entered the little house.
-
-"This your hennery?" he asked, surveying the
-inmates amid a storm of cackling; "sounds like you
-had hundreds of 'em."
-
-"Just five," said Harvey, peering towards his
-customer through the semi-darkness.
-
-"I think I'll buy that there one on the roost,"
-David said after due deliberation; "seems to be the
-highest-minded of the bunch."
-
-"Can't," said Harvey, "that's Jessie's; it's only
-got just one eye—that's why Jessie wanted it. Can't
-sell Jessie's," he concluded firmly.
-
-David agreed. "Haven't you got one called
-Pinky?" he enquired.
-
-"No," Harvey replied solemnly, "she's dead—we
-had her a long, long time ago. I can show you her
-grave outside in the yard."
-
-"Never mind," said Mr. Borland; "this ain't no
-day for inspectin' graves. I might have known she'd
-passed away—how long does a hen live, anyhow—a
-healthy hen?"
-
-"Depends on how they're used," said the boy;
-"Pinky sneezed to death—too much pepper, I think.
-Who told you about Pinky, sir?"
-
-"Depends a good deal, too, on how often the
-preacher comes to dinner, don't it? It was Madeline
-told me about Pinky—you know my girl, don't you?"
-
-"Yes," and Harvey's face was bright; "I'm awful
-sorry Pinky's dead—I could sell you one of Pinky's
-grandchildren's children, Mr. Borland."
-
-"What?" said Mr. Borland, turning a straw about
-and placing the unchewed end in his mouth, "one of
-what?"
-
-"One of Pinky's grandchildren's children. You
-see, her child was Fluffy, and its child was Toppy—that
-was her grandchild; well, its child was Blackie—and
-that's her scratchin' her cheek with her left foot.
-She's done scratchin', but that's her over there."
-
-"She's got the Pinky blood in her all right?"
-asked Mr. Borland.
-
-"She's bound to have it," the boy answered
-gravely; "they was all born right in this room;
-besides, I've got it all marked down on the door."
-
-David surveyed the descendant critically. "Does
-she lay brown eggs?" he enquired presently.
-"Madeline said Pinky always laid brown eggs."
-
-Harvey hesitated a moment. "They're—they're
-pretty brown," he said after a pause. "They mostly
-turn brown a little after they're laid."
-
-"I'm terrible fond of brown eggs," remarked the
-purchaser.
-
-"What for?" asked Harvey, looking full into his face.
-
-"Well, really—I don't know," and David grinned
-a little. "Only I always fancy they're kind o'—kind
-o' better done, don't you think? Besides," he
-added quickly, "I always like my toast brown,
-too—and they kind o' match better, you see."
-
-"Yes," said Harvey reflectively; "I never
-thought of that before. Of course, there isn't any
-hen can be taught *always* to lay them brown—I
-think Blackie tries to make them as brown as she
-can," glancing fondly at the operator as he spoke.
-"If you was to feed her bran, Mr. Borland, I think
-she'd get them brown nearly all the time."
-
-"That's a thunderin' good idea," affirmed Mr. Borland,
-Harvey chiming in with increasing assurance
-of success as he marked the favour with which
-his theory was received.
-
-"We'll call it a bargain," said David.
-
-"All right," exclaimed the boy, "just wait a minute
-till I get a bag."
-
-"Don't bother about that; I'll just leave her here
-till I send for her—she'll earn her board. But I
-may as well pay you now—how much is she worth?"
-
-The boy pondered. "I don't hardly know—of
-course the brown kind comes a little dearer," he
-ventured, glancing cautiously at Mr. Borland.
-"She's an awful well-bred hen—I can show you on
-the door. And she'll eat anything—Jessie's string
-of beads broke loose in the yard once and Blackie
-ate them all but two; that shows she's healthy," he
-concluded earnestly.
-
-"It's a wonder she ain't layin' glass alleys,"
-remarked David. "Well, about the price—I'll tell
-you what I'll do with you. Here's a bill—an' if she
-keeps on at the brown business, mebbe I'll give you a
-little more."
-
-He handed the boy a crisp note, the lad's hand
-trembling as he took it. He gave the door a push
-open that the light might fall on it. "Oh, Mr. Borland,"
-he cried, in a loud, shrill voice, "I won't—you
-mustn't, you mustn't. Mother wouldn't let me—I
-can't—please take it back, Mr. Borland," and
-David noticed in the fuller light that the boy was
-shaking with emotion, his face aglow with its eager
-excitement.
-
-"Nonsense, my lad; what you going on about?
-I reckon I know somethin' about the price of
-hens—especially the brown kind. No, I won't take it
-back. She's worth that much to me jest to keep
-the yard red up o' glass."
-
-"Oh, Mr. Borland—I wish I——"
-
-"Tut, tut," David interrupted; "boys should take
-what's set before 'em, an' ask no questions—an'
-don't you tell nobody now, only your mother.
-Say, isn't that her callin'? Listen—it is, sure
-enough—that's your mother callin' you," and David
-took advantage of the interruption to unlatch an
-adjoining gate, slipping through to the outer lane, his
-face the more radiant of the two.
-
-
-
-
-
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-
-"I'll go with you as far as the door, dear—but
-the elders wouldn't want me to come in,
-of course." Thus spoke Mrs. Simmons to
-her son as the little family were seated at their
-evening meal. Very humble it was, indeed, with its
-strawberry jam, and bread and cheese, these
-themselves carefully measured out.
-
-"Come away, Jessie; what's keeping you?" the
-mother called to the outer kitchen.
-
-"I'll come in a minute, mother," the child's
-cheery voice replied. "I'm doing something,"
-which was evident a little later when Jessie appeared,
-flushed and triumphant, bearing in one hand a little
-plate of well-browned toast, and in the other, her
-little fingers tingling with its heat, a large brown
-egg, evidently an unwonted luxury.
-
-"Jessie, my child, what have you been doing?"
-the mother asked, peering rather closely at the
-dainties the child had laid upon her plate. "Oh,
-Jessie, you shouldn't have done it—you know we
-can't afford it, dear; we need to sell them all," she
-remonstrated, affection and gratitude nevertheless
-mingling in her voice.
-
-"It was cracked, mother—it got a little fall," the
-child explained artfully.
-
-"Jessie gave it a little fall; she always gets the
-biggest one cracked a little when there isn't much
-for supper—don't you, sister?" Harvey asked knowingly.
-
-His sister blushed, but the reply she was struggling
-to provide was interrupted by the tinkling of the bell
-above the door in the little room without. This
-was a signal the mother was never slow to obey;
-customers were rare enough and must not be
-permitted to escape. Rising quickly, she made her
-way, her hands extended rather pitifully, to the little
-room that did duty as a store. Jessie bore the little
-delicacies back to the kitchen, lest they should cool
-in the interval.
-
-The mother was back again in a minute, sighing
-as she resumed her seat.
-
-"Did they buy anything, mother?" her son enquired.
-
-"No, nothing—they wanted something we didn't
-have; I sent them to Ford's," referring to a more
-elaborate establishment on an adjoining street. "I
-was speaking about you going to the elders' meeting,
-Harvey—I'll go with you as far as the church,
-as I said. And you mustn't be afraid, son; they'll
-be glad you're going to join the church. And you
-must just answer what they ask you, the same as
-you do to me at home."
-
-"Will they ask me the catechism, mother?"
-
-"Some of the questions, most likely. Be sure you
-know 'effectual calling'—I think they nearly always
-ask 'effectual calling.'"
-
-"I know that one all right," the boy answered.
-"I said it to Jessie four times last night—do you
-think there'll be others there to join the church,
-mother?"
-
-"I couldn't say for sure, but it's likely there'll be
-some. I guess it's almost time to go now, dear,"
-she said rising. "Jessie, you'll do the best you can
-if anybody comes in—I'll not be long."
-
-"Will it be all right about—about you finding
-your way back, mother?" Harvey asked slowly, his
-voice full of solicitude.
-
-"Of course, child, of course—you and Jessie are
-growing quite foolish about me. I'm not so bad as
-that," she protested. "Why, I can tell the day of
-the month, when I stand up close to the calendar—this
-is the 23d," she affirmed reassuringly, stepping
-out into the night with Harvey clinging close beside
-her.
-
-Neither spoke much as they walked on towards
-the village church. Often, when she thought the
-boy's eyes were not upon her, the woman lifted her
-own upward to the silent stars; the night always
-rested her, something of its deep tranquillity passing
-into the tired heart that had known so much of
-battle. And yet the long struggle had left upon her
-face the marks of peace rather than the scars of
-conflict. Of merriment, there were traces few or none,
-although sufficient provocation could recall the
-old-time sparkle to the eyes that had been so often
-dimmed; but something noble was there instead, a
-placid beauty such as comes alone from resignation,
-born of a heart that has found its rest in a Strength
-and Tenderness which dwell beyond the hills of time.
-If one could have caught a vision of that face,
-upturned to the radiant sky above her, the glimpse
-would have disclosed features of shapely strength,
-marked by great patience, the eyes full of brooding
-gentleness and love, conscious of the stern battle that
-composed her life, but conscious, too—and this it was
-that touched the face with passion—of invisible
-resources, of an unseen Ally that mysteriously bore
-her on.
-
-"Let us go in here a minute," the mother said
-when they were almost at the church.
-
-Harvey followed her, unquestioning. He knew
-whither her feet were turned, for he had often
-followed that well-marked path before, often with
-toddling feet. They entered the quiet churchyard,
-passing many an imposing monument, threading
-their way with reverent steps among the graves,
-careful that no disrespect should be shown the
-humblest sleeper. On they pressed, the dew glistening
-upon their shoes as they walked, their very
-breathing audible amid the oppressive silence.
-Gradually the woman's steps grew slower; and as she
-crept close to an unmarked grave that lay among
-the untitled mounds around it, the slender frame
-trembled slightly, drawing her poor shawl closer as
-she halted with downcast eyes, gazing at the silent
-sepulchre as it lay bathed in the lonely light of the
-new-risen moon. The boy stood behind her for a
-moment, then crept close to her, his hand gliding
-into hers; the woman's closed about it passionately,
-its warmth stealing inward to her heart.
-
-"I think I remember when baby died," Harvey
-began, after they had stood long together by the
-grave; "I was asleep, wasn't I, mother? I
-remember in the morning."
-
-"Yes, dear," said his mother, her voice tremulous;
-"yes, you were asleep—I was with baby when she
-died."
-
-"Was father there too, mother?"
-
-"Yes, Harvey, yes—pull that weed, dear; there,
-at the foot of baby's grave."
-
-"Did father cry when baby died, mother?—like
-you did, mother?"
-
-"I don't know, dear—yes, I think so. We'll have
-to bring some fresh flowers soon, won't we, Harvey?"
-the mother's lips trembling.
-
-"Yes, mother, I'll pick some pretty ones to-morrow.
-Did father die long after baby, mother?" the
-boy pursuing the dread subject with the strange
-persistence wherewith children so often probe a secret
-wound.
-
-"No, my son—yes, I mean; yes, Harvey, it was
-the same night, I think," her nervous fingers roving
-about Harvey's uncovered head.
-
-"You *think*, mother?" the tone full of surprise.
-
-"It was near the same time, Harvey," she answered
-hurriedly, unable to control her voice. "I
-can't tell you now, son—some day, perhaps. But
-mother was so sorry about baby that she hardly
-knows—don't ask me any more about it, Harvey,"
-she suddenly pleaded; "never any more—some day
-I'll tell you all about your father, and all you've
-asked me so often. But don't ask me any more,
-my son—it makes mother feel bad," as she bent
-over to kiss the curious lips.
-
-He could see the tears upon his mother's cheeks,
-and he inwardly resolved that her bidding should be
-done, silently wondering the while what this
-mysterious source of pain might be.
-
-After a long silence the boy's voice was heard
-again: "Weren't baby's eyes shut when she died,
-mother?"
-
-"Yes, darling—yes, they were closed in death,"
-and the unforgetting heart beat fast at the tender
-memory.
-
-"But they're open now, aren't they, mother?—and
-wasn't it God that did it?"
-
-"Yes, Harvey, they're open now—God opened
-them, I'm sure."
-
-"Couldn't He make people see all right before
-they're dead, mother? Couldn't He do it for you?"
-
-"Yes, child—yes, He could if He wanted to."
-
-"And why wouldn't He want to?" the boy asked
-wonderingly. "I'm sure He could; and I've been
-asking Him to do it for us Himself—if we couldn't
-get the money for the doctor to do it. Wasn't that
-right, mother?"
-
-The moon, high now, looked down upon the lonely
-pair; they stood together, they two, beside the
-unresponsive grave, the elder face bathed in tears, the
-younger unstained by grief and wistful with the eager
-trust of childhood. The insignia of poverty was
-upon them both, and the boy shivered slightly in the
-chill air; but the great romance and tragedy of life
-were interwoven there, love and hope and sorrow
-playing the parts they had so often played before.
-The woman stooped down amid the glistening grass
-and took her child into her arms, pressing him close
-to her troubled bosom, her face against his cheek,
-while her eyes roved still about his sister's grave.
-
-"We must go on," she murmured presently.
-"Can you see a light in the church?"
-
-"Did you join when you were just a girl,
-mother?" the boy asked, his lips close to her ear.
-
-"Yes," she replied, "I was very young when I
-joined."
-
-"Did father ever join the church?" Harvey went
-on, releasing his face to gaze about the sleeping
-city.
-
-"No, dear—no, your father never was a member of
-the church," she said softly.
-
-"Wasn't he good enough? Wouldn't they let
-him?" the lad asked wonderingly.
-
-"They never—they never refused him," his mother
-faltered. "But he never thought he was good
-enough."
-
-"But he was, wasn't he?" the boy pursued.
-
-"Yes, dear—yes, he was once—he often was. He
-always meant to be good; he loved you, Harvey.
-And he made me promise that some day I would
-tell you why he thought—why he thought he wasn't
-good enough. He was afraid you might be the
-same; it was something he—something he couldn't
-help very well—I'll tell you some day, Harvey.
-Who's that?" she whispered excitedly, pointing
-towards a shadowy figure that was winding its way
-silently towards them.
-
-His mother straightened up as she spoke, Harvey's
-hand tight clasped in hers again. The figure came
-swiftly on.
-
-"It's Madeline," the boy said rather excitedly.
-"It's Madeline Borland—I guess she's going to join
-too."
-
-Which proved indeed to be the case. "I knew it
-was you," the girl began, almost breathless as she
-came up to them. "The beadle said it was you,
-Harvey; Julia walked to the church with me, and
-she's waiting till I join. I thought perhaps we might
-go in together; I don't want to go in alone." Harvey
-could see in the dim light how eagerly the
-girl's eyes were searching his mother's face. He did
-not withdraw his hand, but unconsciously straightened
-himself in quiet dignity.
-
-"This is my mother," he said simply, quite
-unfamiliar with the modes of introduction; "and that's
-Miss Borland, mother."
-
-"Please don't say that," the girl interrupted. "I
-think you might call me Madeline; anyhow, I heard
-you call me Madeline to your mother," as she
-stepped gently around the foot of the grave and
-extended her hand to Harvey's mother. The older
-woman was evidently struck by the girl's beauty, by
-the simple grace and kindliness of her manner. At
-any rate she held the outstretched hand rather long
-in hers, gazing on the sweet face upturned in the
-quivering light.
-
-"And this—this is my sister's grave," Harvey's
-subdued voice added a moment later.
-
-The girl said nothing, turning a solemn gaze upon
-the lowly mound. She had been long familiar with
-the quiet acre, but this was perhaps the first time she
-had realized the dread personality that clothes the
-grave with dignity.
-
-"You haven't any treasure here, have you, Miss
-Madeline?" the mother asked timidly, when the
-pause had become almost painful.
-
-"No, not any," the girl answered in hushed tones;
-"we haven't even got a plot—I never had a little
-sister," she affirmed, the moistening eyes turning
-now to Harvey's face. He looked down, then up
-again, and the soulful gaze was still fixed upon him.
-A kind of wave, strange and unfamiliar, seemed to
-bathe his soul; he did not wish to look longer, and
-yet a sort of spell seemed to keep his eyes fastened
-on her face. The girl's look was eloquent of much
-that neither he nor she was able to interpret, the first
-venture out to sea on the part of either soul.
-
-"Doesn't it seem strange that we should meet here—here
-at your sister's grave," she said slowly, after
-the gaze of both had fallen. "Of course, we've often
-seen each other at school—but this is our first real
-meeting, isn't it?" she went on, gazing now
-towards the light that twinkled feebly in the distant
-church.
-
-"Yes," he answered simply, "yes, it is—I guess
-we'd better go. Do you know the catechism?" he
-digressed, beginning to move forward, half leading
-his mother by the hand.
-
-"No, I don't. Father doesn't believe in catechisms,—I
-wanted him to join along with me, but he said
-he wasn't good enough. Only he said he'd see—it
-would be just like him to come without my
-knowing."
-
-"That's what my father said," Harvey interjected
-quickly; "and my mother says he was often good—only
-of course it's too late now," a little sigh escaping
-with the words.
-
-"Perhaps they join them in heaven," the girl
-suggested in an awestruck voice. "Father says that's
-where the real joining's done; if your father was
-good, I'm sure they'd join him," she concluded
-earnestly, looking into both the serious faces as
-she spoke.
-
-"Don't you think maybe they would, mother?"
-pleaded the boy. The habit of a lifetime committed
-everything to the mother for final judgment.
-
-"That's in God's hands, dear," the delicate face
-glancing upward through the mist. "I'm sure God
-would do it if He could—we'd better hurry on;
-they'll be waiting for us in the church."
-
-The little procession wound its way back to the
-humble temple, Harvey still holding his mother by
-the hand, Madeline following close behind. And
-the shadowy home of the little child was left alone
-in the silence and the dark.
-
-The youthful pair disappeared within the ivy-grown
-door. The mother, her dim eyes still more
-dimmed by tears, turned upon her homeward way, a
-troubled expression on her face. Why had she not
-told him more, she wondered to herself—something
-about his father, and the cruel appetite that had
-been his shame and his undoing? And her lips
-moved in trembling prayer that God would save her
-son from the blight of his father's life, that the
-dread heritage might never wrap his life in the same
-lurid flame.
-
-
-
-
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-The predominant national type among the
-Glenallen folks was Scotch, and that
-distinctly. David Borland was one of the
-few exceptions; and the good folk about him had
-varied explanations for the baffling fact that he,
-American-bred though he was, had been one of the
-most prosperous men of the community. Some
-maintained that his remote ancestry must have come
-from the land o' cakes, even though he himself were
-oblivious to heaven's far-off goodness. Others
-contended that his long association with a Scottish
-neighbourhood had inoculated him with something
-of their distinctive power; while the profounder
-minds acknowledged frankly that the ways of
-Providence were mysterious, and that this lonely
-spectacle of an alien mortal, handicapped from birth and
-yet rising to affluence and distinction, was but an
-evidence of the Omnipotence that had wrought the
-miracle.
-
-But if, in matters temporal, the historic Scotch
-stock of Glenallen had been compelled to divide the
-spoil with those of lesser origin, the control of
-affairs ecclesiastical was carefully reserved for Scottish
-hands alone. This went without saying. Over
-every door of church officialdom, and especially of
-the eldership, he who ran might read: "No Irish
-need apply,"—and the restriction included all to
-whom heaven had denied the separate advantage of
-Scottish birth or ancestry.
-
-Wherefore it came about that the assembled elders
-who on this particular night awaited the arrival of
-applicants for church-membership were about as
-formidable to look upon as any half dozen of mere
-men could be. The dignity of their office filled the
-little room and the sense of responsibility sat gravely
-on every face. Two there were among them, newly
-elected to the office—the highest office in the gift of
-their fellow-men—and these two were fairly dripping
-with new-born solemnity. The older men, relaxing
-with the years, had discarded some of the sombre
-drapery that the newer elders wrapt about them with
-pious satisfaction.
-
-Æneas Ramsay, one of the veterans, had ventured
-to ask one of the newly ordained if they would finish
-the threshing at his farm to-morrow. The question
-was put before the meeting had well begun, and was
-whispered in the ear at that; but the shock was
-easily seen on the new elder's face, who, recovering
-in a moment, informed his senior that they would
-discuss the matter after the "sederunt" was
-adjourned. Which purely Presbyterian term rolled
-from his lips with the luxurious unction known to
-Presbyterian elders, and to them alone.
-
-The Session had been constituted, and good old
-Sandy McKerracher had led in prayer, the other
-elders standing through the exercise. Most of them
-had one foot upon a chair, the elbow resting on the
-knee and the chin upon the hand, before Sandy had
-concluded. In fact, the precaution of an
-adjoining chair was seldom overlooked by any when
-the Moderator named Sandy for this solemn duty,
-his staying powers famous for fifty years. The chief
-emphasis of his prayer was laid on the appeal to
-Infinite Love that none of the intending communicants
-might eat and drink damnation to themselves.
-This was a favourite request with all of them on such
-occasions—excepting one elder, and good Dr. Fletcher
-himself—and it was largely because of this
-that the Moderator was wont to see the Session
-constituted before the candidates were admitted to the
-room.
-
-"There's some bringin' their lines frae ither kirks,"
-Robert MaCaig began, when the Moderator asked if
-there were any candidates for membership, "but
-there's nae mair nor twa to join on profession o'
-faith," he added, turning a despondent eye upon his
-brother elders. "We used to hae a dizzen or mair."
-
-"Twa souls is an awfu' lot, Robert—twa
-never dyin' souls!" It was Geordie Nickle who
-sounded the hopeful note. He was the saintliest
-elder of them all, and the saintliest are the
-sanguinest. "We maun be thankfu' for twa mair to own
-the Saviour's name," he added reverently.
-
-"But they're only bairns," Robert urged; "there's
-no' a muckle man among them."
-
-"That's a' the better," returned Geordie; "the
-Maister was aye glad to hae the bairns come—ca'
-them in," he said, the slightest note of impatience in
-his voice.
-
-A moment later Harvey and Madeline were
-ushered in, very shy and embarrassed, their
-downcast eyes fluttering upwards now and then to the
-stern faces fixed upon them.
-
-There was considerable skirmishing of a
-preliminary sort, the elders' questions booming out
-solemnly like minute guns. Suddenly Robert
-McCaig proceeded to business.
-
-"We'll tak a rin ower the fundamentals," he said,
-brandishing the age-worn term as though he had
-just invented it. "What is original sin?" he
-demanded; "tell the Moderator what's original sin."
-
-"The Moderator kens fine himsel'," Andrew
-Fummerton whispered to the elder at his right, smiling
-grimly. But the man beside him scarcely heard, for
-every mind was intent with the process under way;
-scores of times had they witnessed it before, but it
-was again as new and absorbing as the prowess of a
-fisherman landing his reluctant prize.
-
-There was a long silence, still as death. Suddenly
-Willie Gillespie fell to sneezing; he it was at whose
-farm the threshers had been that day, and who had
-been profanely questioned by Æneas Ramsay, as
-already told. Perhaps it was the day's dust that
-provoked the outburst; but, from whatever cause, the
-explosion was remarkable in its power and duration,
-one detonation following another with heightening
-tumult till the final booming was worthy of the
-noblest efforts of modern artillery. As the bombardment
-increased in power, the elders unconsciously
-braced themselves a little on their chairs, dismayed
-at the unseemly outbreak, considering the place and
-the occasion.
-
-Harvey, for the life of him, could not forbear to
-smile; this human symptom was reassuring to him
-amid the statuesque solemnity of the room—it made
-original sin less ghostly, somehow, and he looked
-almost gratefully at the dynamic Willie. This latter
-worthy, recoiling like a smoking cannon, groped
-frankly for his nose as if apprehensive that it had
-been discharged; finding it uninjured, he repaired
-hastily to the tail pocket of a black coat that had
-sustained the dignity of a previous generation in the
-eldership, extracting therefrom a lurid
-pocket-handkerchief—that is, originally lurid—but now as
-variously bedecked as though the threshers had enjoyed
-its common ministry that day. Whereupon there
-ensued a succession of reports, inferior only to their
-mighty predecessors themselves, resembling nothing
-so much as the desultory firing that succeeds the
-main attack.
-
-"Ye was askin' what might be original sin," Willie
-murmured apologetically from behind the faithful
-handkerchief, swishing it back and forward on his
-nose the while as though he were polishing the
-knocker on a door; he glanced apologetically towards
-Mr. McCaig as he spoke, anxious to repair the
-connection he had so violently disturbed.
-
-"If my memory serves me," Robert returned severely,
-"if my memory serves me, that is what we
-was dealin' wi'—order's a graun' thing at a meetin' o'
-sic a kind as this," he added sternly, his gaze
-following the disappearing banner now being reëntombed.
-
-"What is original sin, laddie? Mebbe the lassie
-can gie me the answer," he suggested, Harvey's
-silence impressing him as incurable.
-
-"I'm not very sure," faltered Madeline—"was it
-the kind at the beginning?"
-
-Robert McCaig had no desire to be unnecessarily
-severe; therefore turned enquiringly to his colleagues,
-implying that the verdict lay with them.
-
-"Very good, child, very good," Dr. Fletcher said
-approvingly. "It's very hard to answer Mr. McCaig's
-question—he'd find it difficult enough himself.
-What is it, Harvey?" he asked, smiling at the boy,
-who seemed to have an idea ready.
-
-"I'm not very sure either; but isn't it—isn't it the
-kind that doesn't wear off?" the lad ventured timidly,
-rather ashamed of the description after it was finished.
-
-"Capital, my boy; first-rate!" the minister cried
-delightedly. "That's better than anything I learned
-in college. I don't believe any one could get much
-nearer to it than that—now we'll just pass from
-this," smiling around at the elders as he made the
-suggestion; "there are other things more important—has
-any of the elders anything else to ask?"
-
-It was not long before two or three of them were
-in full cry again. Stern questions, weighty interrogatives,
-suggestive of the deepest mysteries, were propounded
-to the youthful pair as complacently as
-though they were being asked how many pints make
-a gallon. One wanted to know their view of the
-origin of evil, following this by a suggestion that
-they should each give a brief statement of the
-doctrine of the Trinity. Another urged that they should
-describe in brief the process of regeneration. Still
-another asked if they could repeat the books of the
-Bible backwards—any one, he said, could do it the
-old way—and one good elder capped the climax by
-saying he would like to hear them tell how to
-reconcile the free agency of man with the sovereignty of
-God.
-
-But just at this juncture Geordie Nickle rose, his
-face beaming with tenderness, and addressed the chair.
-
-"They're fashin' the bairns, Moderator," he said
-gently. "Wull ye no' let me pit a wee bit question
-or twa till them mysel'?"
-
-The Moderator was evidently but too well pleased,
-and his nod gave Geordie the right of way. The old
-man moved to where Harvey and Madeline were
-seated, taking his stand partially behind them, his
-hands resting gently on the heads of both.
-
-"I mind fine the nicht I joined the kirk mysel',"
-he began; "it was the winter my mither gaed awa,
-an' I think God answered her prayer, to mak her glad
-afore she went—but the elders askit me some o'
-thae vera questions—an' I kent then hoo far they
-was frae the soul," he said gravely, looking
-compassionately on the faces now upturned to his own.
-"Sae I'm juist gaein' to ask ye what I was wishin'
-they'd ask frae me. Div ye no' love the Saviour,
-lassie—and div ye no' ken He's the son o' God?" he
-asked reverently, tenderly. "Div ye no' ken that,
-lassie?—an' the same wi' yirsel', my laddie?—I'm sure
-ye're baith trustin' Him, to the savin' o' the soul;
-are ye no', bairnies?" and the old man's face shone
-as the great truth kindled his own simple soul.
-
-Harvey and Madeline nodded eager assent, a
-muffled affirmative breaking from their lips.
-
-"An' ye ken the Saicrament's juist the meetin'-place
-where He breaks bread wi' His children, and
-where they say, afore a' the folk, that they love Him,
-and trust Him, an' want to be aye leal an' true till
-Him, and show forth His death till He come—div ye
-no' ken it that way?" the kindly voice went on, his
-hands still resting on the youthful heads.
-
-Harvey answered first: "That's what I'd like
-to be—that's what I want to do," he said simply.
-
-"I want to, too—I'm the same as Harvey," Madeline
-faltered sweetly.
-
-Then Geordie Nickle straightened himself and
-turned towards Dr. Fletcher. "Moderator," he
-said earnestly, "we canna mak the way mair open
-nor the Maister made it; an' I move that these twa
-be received intil full communion, an' their names—the
-Clerk kens what they are—be added to the
-roll o' communicants in good standin' i' the kirk."
-
-This was carried without further protest and
-ordered to be done forthwith.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
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-.. _`A BELATED ENQUIRER`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \IX
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *A BELATED ENQUIRER*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-The youthful candidates had hardly left the
-room when the beadle, compared with
-whose solemnity the gravity of the elders
-was frivolity itself, announced that a further
-candidate was in waiting.
-
-"It's Mr. Borland," he said in an awed
-whisper—"Mr. David Borland. He wants to jine,
-Mr. Moderator," the beadle informed the court in much
-the same tone as is employed when death-warrants
-must be read. "An' it'll be on profession," he
-added, unable to forego the sensational announcement,
-"for he never jined no church afore." Then
-the beadle retreated with the mien that becomes an
-ecclesiastical sheriff.
-
-An instant later he reappeared with Mr. Borland,
-whom he left standing in the very centre of the
-room. The elders gazed wonderingly at the
-unexpected man.
-
-"Dinna break oot again," Robert McCaig whispered
-to the now tranquil Willie, fearful of another
-explosion; "it's no' often a kirk session has sic a
-duty to perform," and Willie responded by rising
-slightly and sitting down hard upon the contents of
-his coat-tail pocket, as though the fuse for the
-explosion were secreted there.
-
-David looked round upon the elders, in no wise
-abashed; he even nodded familiarly to two or three
-with whom he was more intimately acquainted.
-"It's a fine evening," he informed one nearest him,
-to the evident amazement of his brethren.
-
-The usual process began, one or two undertaking
-preliminary examination.
-
-"Have you ever joined before, Mr. Borland?"
-one of the elders asked him after a little.
-
-"Never joined a church before—haven't been
-much of a joiner," David answered cheerfully;
-"joined the Elks once in the States when I was a
-young fellow—an' they made it pretty interestin'
-for me," dispensing a conciliatory smile among the
-startled elders as he turned to catch another question.
-
-"What maks ye want to join, Mr. Borland?"
-enquired one of the new elders, hitherto silent.
-"What's yir motive, like? Hae ye got the root o'
-the matter in ye, div ye think?" he elaborated
-formally.
-
-David started somewhat violently, turning and
-looking his questioner full in the face. "Have I
-got what in me?" he cried—"what kind of a root?
-That's more than I can say, sir; I don't catch your
-meanin'."
-
-Dr. Fletcher interposed. "You're not familiar
-with our terms, Mr. Borland," he said reassuringly.
-"Mr. Aiken only wants to know why you feel
-impelled to become a member of the church—perhaps
-you could answer the question when it's put that
-way?"
-
-David's first sign of answer was to stoop and pick
-up a rather shapeless hat lying at his feet. This
-symptom decidedly alarmed the elders, several of
-them sitting up suddenly in their chairs as though
-fearful that so interesting a subject might escape.
-But David had evidently seized it only for purposes
-of reflection, turning it round and round in his hands,
-his eyes fixed upon the floor.
-
-"It was a queer kind of a reason," he began abruptly,
-clearing his throat with all the resonance of
-a trumpet—"but mebbe it ain't too bad a one after
-all. It was Madeline," he finally blurted out,
-staring at all the brethren in turn. "I knew she was
-goin' to join—an'—an' I wanted to keep up with
-her. If she's agoin' to heaven, I'm agoin' too—an'
-I reckon this here's the way," he added, feeling that
-the phraseology was not too ill-timed. Then he
-waited.
-
-"Very good, Mr. Borland—very good," the
-Moderator pronounced encouragingly. "But
-about—about your own soul. I'm sure we all hope
-you—you—realize your need, Mr. Borland. It's a sense
-of sin we all need, you know. I'm sure you feel
-you've been a sinner, Mr. Borland?" and the good
-man turned the most brotherly of faces upon the
-applicant.
-
-"Oh, yes," responded David agreeably; "oh, yes,
-I'm all right that way—I've been quite a sinner,
-all right. The only thing I'm afeart of is I've been
-'most too good a sinner. I wisht I wasn't quite so
-handy at it," he went on gravely. "I reckon I've
-been about as bad as—as any of the deacons here,"
-glancing towards the open-mouthed about him as he
-made the comparison, "an' some o' them's got quite
-a record, if all reports is true. I traded horses onct
-with Robert there," nodding familiarly in the direction
-of Mr. McCaig, "an' the first time we traded, he
-sinned pretty bad—but that's nothin'; bygones is
-bygones—an' anyhow, the second time we traded,
-I sinned pretty bad myself. So I'm all right that
-way, Doctor," he again assured the Moderator,
-making a last desperate effort to tie his hat into a
-knot.
-
-"I didna ken the mare was spavined, Moderator,"
-Mr. McCaig broke in, gasping with emotion; "an' a
-meetin' o' session's no place for discussin' sic like
-matters onyway," he appealed vehemently. "Thae
-week-day things has nae richt to be mentioned here—a
-meetin' o' elders is no' a cattle fair," and Robert
-looked well pleased with this final stroke.
-
-"That's all right, Robert, that's all right," David
-returned in his most amiable tone; "don't get
-excited, Robert—we both traded with our eyes open.
-An' all these things makes life, anyhow—they all go
-to the weavin' of the web, as I say sometimes, an'
-besides——"
-
-But Robert's blood was up.
-
-"Onyhow, I didna swear," he exclaimed in a rising
-tone; "I didna say damn, Mr. Moderator—an' the
-horse-doctor tellt me as how the candidate afore us
-said damn mair nor aince when he found oot aboot
-the spavin. He'd mak a bonnie member o' the
-kirk!" and the elder's face glowed with righteous
-indignation.
-
-The Moderator cast about to avert the storm.
-"Maybe he was taken unawares," he interposed
-charitably; "any one might be overtaken in a fault.
-Did you, Mr. Borland—did you say what Mr. McCaig
-says you did?" as he turned a very kindly face on
-the accused.
-
-David was more intently employed than ever with
-his hat. "I won't say but what I mebbe did," he
-acknowledged, an unfamiliar confusion in his words.
-"You see, sir, I should a knowed a spavin when I
-seen it; the signs is awful easy told—an' that's what
-made me mad. So I said I was a fool—an' I said
-Robert here was an elder. An' I likely said both of
-us was—was that kind of a fool an' an elder, the kind
-he says I said—it's an awful handy describin' word,"
-he added, nodding respectfully towards the Moderator's chair.
-
-"So I have heard, Mr. Borland," the Moderator
-replied, smiling reproachfully nevertheless, "though
-I think there are others just as good. However, if
-that is the worst sin you've been guilty of, I wouldn't
-say you're beyond the pale."
-
-"Oh, there's lots of things I've done, far worse
-than that," David exclaimed vigorously. "I don't
-allow that's a sin at all—that's just a kind of a spark
-out o' the chimney. I reckon nearly everybody,
-even ministers, says that—only they don't spell it
-just the same. I'd call that just a kind of
-splutter—an' everybody splutters sometimes. Robert there,
-he says 'bless my soul' when he gets beat on a
-trade—but he means just the same as me. Oh, yes,"
-he went cheerfully on, "there's lots o' worse things
-than that against me. There's lots o' little weak
-spots about me; an' I'll tell them if you like—if the
-deacons'll do the same," he proposed, looking
-earnestly around for volunteers.
-
-There was no clamour of response, and it fell to
-Geordie Nickle again to break the silence.
-
-"These is no' the main things, David," he began
-solemnly. "Tell us, div ye trust the Saviour wi' yir
-soul?"
-
-David halted, the gravity of the question shading
-his face. "I think—I think I do," he ventured after
-a long pause. "I wouldn't trust it to no one else.
-My mother taught me that."
-
-"An' div ye want to follow Him, an' to let yir
-licht shine upon the world? Div ye want to be a
-guid soldier, an' wull ye try it, wi' His grace?" the
-old man asked tenderly.
-
-David's voice was very low. "I'm not very far on
-the road," he said falteringly, "an' I'm afeared there
-ain't much light in me—but I'd try an' do my best,"
-he concluded earnestly.
-
-The venerable elder proceeded with his gentle art,
-leading the belated enquirer on from stage to stage,
-seeking to discover and disclose the hidden treasures
-of the soul. He was never slow to be convinced of
-goodness in any heart that he thought sincere, and
-it was not long till he turned to the Moderator,
-proposing, as before, that this new name should likewise
-be enrolled among those of the faithful.
-
-But one or two thought the examination hardly
-doctrinal enough, nor carried sufficiently far afield.
-
-"Perhaps Mr. Borland would give us a word or
-two regarding his views on the subject of temperance,"
-suggested Morris Hall. He was a comparatively
-modern elder; in fact, he had been but recently
-reclaimed, one of the first-fruits of a spring revival,
-himself snatched from the vortex of intemperance
-and correspondingly severe upon all successors in his
-folly. For largeness of charity, as a rule, is to be found
-only with those who have been tempted and prevailed.
-
-"I'm not terrible well up on temperance," David
-began placidly; "but I don't mind givin' you my
-views—oh, no, not at all."
-
-Then he sank into silence, and the Moderator had
-finally to prompt him. "Very well, then, Mr. Borland,
-give us your views on the subject."
-
-"Well," David began hesitatingly, "my views on
-the subject of temperance is terrible simple. I really
-hardly ever take anything—never touch it at all
-except it's before or after meals," he assured the
-brethren earnestly, the younger men frowning a little, one
-or two of the older nodding approvingly. But none
-seemed to remark how generous was the margin this
-time-table provided for a man of moist propensities.
-
-"Sometimes, when I run acrost an old friend, if
-he looks kind o' petered out," David went on
-sympathetically, "sometimes then I have a view or
-two—most always soft stuff, though," he enlarged, looking
-hopefully towards his spiritual betters; "most
-generally they takes the same view as me," he informed
-them gravely; "my view is to take it an' let it alone—I
-do both—only I never do them both at the same
-time," he added seriously. "You see, when I'm well
-it doesn't hurt me, and when I'm sick—why, mebbe
-I need somethin'. That's one o' my views. An', oh,
-yes"—he hurried on as if glad that he had not
-forgotten, "I always take a little when a new century
-comes in—I took a little when the clock struck 1900;
-it's been a custom for quite awhile in our family,
-always to take a little when a new century comes
-in—a man has to be careful it doesn't grow on him,
-you see. So I confine it pretty much to them two
-occasions. An' I think them's pretty much all my
-views, gentlemen, on the subject o' liquors. The
-less views a man has on them, the better. It's the
-worst plague there is—an' I'm gettin' more set agin'
-it all the time," and David nodded to the elders in
-quite an admonitory way.
-
-But these views, simple and candid though they
-were, were far from satisfactory to Mr. Morris Hall,
-who violently declaimed against such laxity, and
-quoted statistics concerning poorhouses, jails and
-lunatic asylums in much the same tone, and with the
-same facility, that a boy exhibits when quoting the
-multiplication table. Mr. Hall concluded with an
-appeal to David's sense of shame.
-
-This was rather much for the gentle candidate,
-familiar as he was with the impeacher's record in
-days that were yet hardly dry.
-
-"There's one thing sure, anyhow," he returned hotly,
-in his intensity of feeling. "I didn't never have to be
-toted home on a stone-boat—that's one thing certain." This
-was a reference to authentic history of no ancient
-sort, and Mr. Hall's relapse to silence was as final as
-it was precipitate.
-
-Whereupon Geordie Nickle again reverted to his
-motion that Mr. Borland be received. He briefly
-reviewed the case, emphasizing the obvious simplicity
-and candour that had been remarked by all, while
-admitting David's evident unfamiliarity with the formulas
-and doctrines of the church.
-
-"But there's mony a man loves flowers wha disna
-ken naethin' aboot botany," he pleaded; "an' there's
-mony a soul luvin' Christ, an' trustin' till Him, wha
-kens little or naethin' aboot theology."
-
-This view seemed to prevail with the majority, and
-the proposal of the kindly elder would doubtless have
-been speedily endorsed, had it not been for the
-protest from David himself. "I'm terrible thankful for
-your kindness to a lame duck like me—but I believe
-I'd jest as soon wait awhile," he said. "I'll try an'
-follow up the best I can. But Dick Phin's comin' to
-visit me next week—Dick's an old crony I haven't
-seen for a dog's age. An' besides, Robert there has
-kind o' set me thinkin'; an' I jest minded Tom
-Taylor's comin' on Monday to try an' trade back the
-three-year-old he got in August. So I think mebbe
-I'd better wait. But I'll follow up the best I can."
-
-
-
-
-
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-.. _`SHELTERING SHADOWS`:
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- *SHELTERING SHADOWS*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Two chestnut steeds, securely tied, looked
-reproachfully at the retreating figures as
-Madeline and her father pressed on beneath
-the shadow of the great oaks that looked down upon
-the merry picnickers. For Glenallen's Sunday-school
-scholars were *en fête* beneath them. Very
-gladly did these mighty guardians of the grove seem
-to welcome back the happy throng as each returning
-summer brought the festal day. And very tenderly
-did they seem to look down upon the varied
-pleasure-seekers that gathered beneath their whispering
-branches; children, in all the helplessness of
-childhood, mingling with other toddlers whose was the
-helplessness of age—little tots whose toilsome
-journey was at hand, and patriarchs whose weary
-pilgrimage was almost past. Many were there whose
-fathers' fathers, snatching a brief truce from their
-struggle with the poverty and stress of early days,
-had rested and rollicked as only pioneers know how;
-masters and men, their respective ranks forgotten,
-had sat side by side about the teeming board, or
-entered the lists together as they flung the bounding
-caber, or raced across the meadow-sward, or heaved
-the gleaming quoits, or strained the creaking cable
-in the final and glorious tug of war.
-
-As David Borland and his daughter drew near to
-the central group of picnickers, they found them
-employed in a very savoury task. They were emptying
-the baskets one by one, the good things translated
-promiscuously to the ample table around which
-all were about to take their places. Pies of every
-sort there were, cakes of every imaginable brand and
-magnitude, sandwiches, fruits, pickles, hams that
-would waddle, fowls that would cackle, tongues that
-would join the lowing choir, nevermore—all these
-conspired to swell the overflowing larder.
-
-Suddenly David's eyes fell on a face in the
-distance, a face for which he had long had a peculiar
-liking. It was Geordie Nickle's, the old man sitting
-apart on a little mound, his kindly eyes bright with
-gladness at the lively scene around him.
-
-"You go off an' have a swing, Madeline," he said;
-"I'm goin' to have a chat with my friend Geordie
-here—I'll see you in a little while."
-
-Madeline scarcely heard him nor did any response
-escape her lips. For other words had fallen on her
-ears, hot and tingling now with shame and indignation.
-
-"Isn't this the limit," a jibing voice was saying;
-"isn't this the human limit?—rhubarb tarts! Three
-of them! Who wants to buy a tin plate?" the voice
-went jeeringly on. It was Cecil Craig's voice, and he
-held the humble contributions aloft as he spoke.
-
-"There must be some awful rich folks here to-day—I
-guess these tarts are meant for the minister. That's
-all there is in the basket—so I guess some one must
-keep a rhubarb farm; look at the size of them—big
-as a full moon! I believe I'll give them to my
-horse," he cried with a contemptuous laugh. "Have
-you any idea who sent these, Harvey?" turning
-with the question to the conscious boy who stood on
-the outer edge of the circle.
-
-A few joined in thoughtless laughter. But it was
-no laughing matter for poor Harvey, trying now to
-steal alone and unnoticed from among the throng.
-Yet not alone; for one humble little form clung
-close beside him, retreating as rapidly as he, her face
-flushed and drawn. They had taken but a few steps
-when Jessie's hand stole caressingly into her
-brother's, the little legs trying eagerly to keep pace
-with his ardent stride.
-
-"Don't mind, Harvey, don't mind," she said
-soothingly. "He's just as mean as he can be. It's
-all because he's rich—an' he thinks we're poor. He
-doesn't know how good mother is at makin' tarts, or
-he wouldn't talk like that."
-
-Harvey glanced at his sister as though he scarcely
-saw her. His eyes, usually so mild, were now almost
-terrible in their fiery anger, and his hand closed so
-tightly over his sister's that she cried out in pain.
-Once he looked swiftly back and caught a glimpse of
-Cecil leering at him in the distance; he fixed his
-teeth tight together and strode swiftly on.
-
-"Aren't you goin' back, Harvey?" Jessie enquired
-a little wistfully. "I'm real hungry, Harvey—an' I
-saw chickens there, an' there was some peaches
-too—they looked awful nice," she said earnestly.
-
-"Going back!" Harvey almost shouted. "No,
-you bet I'm not going back—and neither are you;
-I'd starve before I'd touch a bite of their stuff. A
-lot of stuck-up things," he cried passionately, "and
-you and me cast out everywhere because we're
-poor! I'll show them yet—you just see if I don't;
-if I can get half a chance—and to think the way poor
-mother worked at them, and she thought she was
-making something real nice too, and——"
-
-"An' she put sugar in them too, Harvey—an' she
-hardly ever puts sugar in anything now. She put
-lots of butter an' sugar in, for I saw her. But ain't
-you goin' back, Harvey?—there's lemonade, you
-know, a whole boiler full of it. I tasted it and it was
-lovely," she assured him, looking wistfully up into
-the angry face.
-
-"The young whelp!" Harvey muttered wrathfully;
-"hasn't any more brains than a handspike—hasn't
-got anything but a rich, proud father—I'll fix
-him yet, you see if I don't." Suddenly he stopped,
-standing still as the trees around him. "Hello!" he
-said musingly, then began whistling significantly.
-
-"What's the matter, Harvey?" asked the mystified
-Jessie.
-
-"Oh, nothing—nothing at all. In fact, everything's
-all right—see that sorrel horse tied to that hemlock
-over there? It's Cecil Craig's."
-
-"Yes," replied Jessie wonderingly; "it's kickin'
-with its legs," she added informatively—"what's it
-doin' that for, Harvey?"
-
-"Flies," replied the other absently. "I say,
-Jessie," he began in quite a different tone, his brow
-clearing like a headland when the fog is lifting, "you
-better go on back and get your dinner—don't eat too
-much," he added cautiously, for Jessie, her hand still
-tight in his, had already turned right about face, her
-radiant gaze fixed on the distant tables; "and you
-know mother doesn't want you to take any stuffin'—you'll
-have to take castor oil if you eat any stuffin',
-Jessie."
-
-"Won't you go, Harvey?" his sister asked eagerly,
-supremely indifferent to matters medicinal; she was
-already pressing onward, half leading her brother by
-the hand. The boy started to refuse vigorously.
-Suddenly, however, he seemed to change his mind.
-"I'll go back with you for a minute, Jessie—just a
-minute, mind. I'll get you a seat if I can; but I'll
-have to come right away again. I've got—I've got
-to do something."
-
-The hungry Jessie asked no further information,
-well content, poor child, to regain the treat she had
-so nearly lost. Her hurrying legs twinkled in the
-sun as she led the way, Harvey following, half
-reluctantly, back to the appetizing scene. The boy looked
-at no one as he mingled with the excited throng;
-nor did many remark his return, so all absorbed are
-youthful minds in one pursuit alone when that pursuit
-leads to the dinner-table. This pleased Harvey
-well; and, confident of their indifference, he took his
-place beside the three bulky tarts that had been the
-text for Cecil's scorn.
-
-Good Dr. Fletcher's special care, at such a fête as
-this, was to see that all heads were reverently bowed
-while grace was being said. And so they were on
-this occasion, all but Harvey's. Availing himself of
-the opportune devotion, he thrust the unoffending
-tarts roughly within the shelter of his coat, buttoning
-it tightly over them, quite careless of results. Then,
-wild chaos and savage attack succeeding the reverent
-calm, while his ravenous companions fell upon the
-viands like starving animals, he quietly withdrew,
-holding his coat carefully about him as he went.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-David Borland and the venerable Geordie Nickle
-were deep in conversation as Harvey passed them by
-at a little distance, finding his way back to the outer
-fringe of woods.
-
-"Yon's an uncommon laddie," Geordie remarked
-to David, his staff pointed in the direction of the
-disappearing boy.
-
-"Who? Oh, yes—that's Harvey. You're right,
-Mr. Nickle; the grass doesn't grow very green under
-Harvey's feet. He works for me, you know—does a
-little drivin' between four and six."
-
-"Did ye hear aboot the minister, David? He was
-sair vexed wi' Mr. Craig; he went till him, ye ken,
-to get a wee bit help for the laddie's mither—her
-eyesicht's failin', it seems. An' Mr. Craig wudna gie
-him onythin'."
-
-David was busy kicking to pieces a slab of dead
-wood at his feet. "That man Craig makes me mad,"
-he said warmly—"thinks he owns the earth 'cause
-he's got a little money. He got the most of it from
-his father, anyhow—he hasn't got brains enough
-himself to make his head ache. An' it looks like the
-young cub's goin' to be a chip o' the old block; you
-can see it stickin' right out of him now," he declared,
-nodding towards the blustering Cecil, who was flinging
-his orders here and there.
-
-"I was thinkin' ower the maitter, David," the old
-man went on quietly; "I was thinkin' mebbe I micht
-gie the puir buddy a wee bit help mysel'—I hae a wee
-bit siller, ye ken, an' I haena vera muckle to dae wi't.
-Div ye think ye cud see aboot it, David?—aboot
-sendin' his mither till the city doctor, ye ken? I cud
-gie the money to yirsel', an' naebody need ken aboot
-it but us twa." Poor Geordie looked half ashamed
-as he made the offer; such is the fashion of his kind.
-
-"It's mighty clever of you," David answered,
-smiling a little curiously, "and I'd be terrible glad to
-fix it for you—only I happen to know it's fixed
-already. Just found that out to-day. A fellow sent
-the money to them—some fellow that doesn't want
-any one to know. But it's just as good of you, all
-the same, Mr. Nickle."
-
-"Oh, aye, aye, I ken," Geordie responded enigmatically,
-"aye—juist that."
-
-"Yes, he's a mighty smart boy," David resumed
-quickly, to hide a little embarrassment. "He works
-like a beaver all day; steady as a clock and bright as
-a dollar. It's a darned shame he hasn't got a better
-chance—that boy'd be heard from yet if he got some
-eddication," he concluded, opening the big blade of
-his jack-knife and beginning operations on a leafy
-limb he had just broken off.
-
-Geordie's face was full of sympathetic interest.
-"Div ye ken, David, I've been thinkin' the same
-aboot the laddie. Dr. Fletcher tellt me aboot him
-first—an' I've been enquirin', an' watchin' him a wee
-bit in a canny kind o' a way, since the nicht he jined
-the kirk. An' I've got a wee bit plan, David—I've
-got a wee bit plan."
-
-"Yes, Mr. Nickle?" David responded encouragingly,
-throwing away the leafy limb and sitting
-squarely round.
-
-"It's no' quite a fittin' time to mak ony promises,"
-the cautious Scotchman went on, seeing that David
-expected him to continue. "But ye ken, David, I
-hae neither wife nor bairns noo; they're a' wi' God,"
-he added, bowing reverently, "an' yon laddie kind
-o' minds me o' wee Airchie—Airchie died wi' the
-scarlet fever. An' I've been thinkin', David, I've
-been thinkin' I never spent the siller that wud hae
-gone for Airchie's schoolin'. Ye ken, David, div ye
-no'?"
-
-David knew not how to answer. But his heart
-was more nimble than his lips. "I was awful sorry
-when you lost your little boy," he said, his eyes upon
-the ground; "I never had a son myself—so you're
-better off nor me."
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`FOOD FOR THOUGHT`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XI
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *FOOD FOR THOUGHT*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-One pair of eyes, at least, had watched
-Harvey's unostentatious retreat from the
-clamorous throng about the table. And
-no sooner had Madeline noted his departure than
-she quietly slipped into the vacant place beside his
-sister, who welcomed her with a smile as generous
-as the absorbing intensity of the moment would
-permit. Madeline's cheeks were still rosy with the
-flush of angry resentment that Cecil's cruel words
-had started. Twice had he taken his place beside
-her at the table, and twice she had moved away;
-even now his eyes seemed to follow her, casting
-conciliatory glances that found no response.
-
-The picnic feast was finally concluded—but not
-till sheer physical inability proclaimed a truce—and
-Madeline and Jessie withdrew together.
-
-"Let's go down into the gully, Jessie," Madeline
-suggested, pointing towards a slight ravine a little
-way in the distance; "I think we'd find flowers
-there, perhaps."
-
-Jessie was agreed. "But I wish Harvey would
-come," she said; "I wonder where he is—he went
-away just when we began our dinner."
-
-"Oh, he's all right," replied the older girl. "I
-saw him going away—he'll be back in a little."
-
-"An' I didn't see—I didn't see the rhubarb
-tarts mother made," Jessie continued, her mind
-still busy with the missing. "You don't suppose
-Cecil Craig threw them away, do you?" she asked,
-suddenly fearful; "he's so mean."
-
-"Don't let's speak about him at all," Madeline
-interrupted. "The tarts are all right," she went on
-consolingly. "I saw one boy very—very busy with
-them," she concluded dexterously. "Besides," she
-added, the connection not so obvious as her tone
-would indicate, "I've got something to say to
-you, Jessie—sit down; sit down beside me here."
-
-Jessie obeyed and they sank together on a mossy
-mound, a few stately oaks and maples whispering
-welcome; for they were jealous trees, and had
-begrudged the central grove its throng of happy children,
-the merry scene just visible from their topmost
-boughs.
-
-"I've got awful good news for you, Jessie," Madeline
-began ardently, after a momentary struggle as
-to how she should introduce the subject.
-
-"What's it about?" Jessie asked, her eyes opening wide.
-
-"It's about your mother," answered Madeline.
-
-Jessie looked gravely at the other.
-
-"Anything about the tarts?" she enquired
-earnestly, her mind still absorbed with the
-tragedy.
-
-"No, no—of course it's not about anything like
-that. It's about her eyes—I'm pretty sure they're
-going to get well."
-
-Jessie's own were dancing. "Who said so?
-Why? Tell me quick."
-
-"Well, I know all about everything," Madeline
-replied, importantly. "I know about you wanting
-to take her to the doctor in the city—and she's
-going to go," she affirmed conclusively.
-
-"When?" Jessie demanded swiftly.
-
-"Any time—to-morrow, if you like," Madeline
-returned triumphantly, withdrawing her hand from
-her bosom and thrusting the crisp notes into Jessie's;
-"my father gave me all that money to-day—and it's
-to pay the doctor—it's to pay everything," she
-amended jubilantly. "Only father doesn't want
-any one to know who did it—when do you think
-she'll go, Jessie?" she asked, a little irrelevantly,
-for matters had taken a rather unexpected turn.
-
-Jessie was staring at her through swimming eyes,
-the import of the great moment too much for her
-childish soul. Her mother's face passed before her,
-beautiful in its tender patience; and all the pathos
-of the long struggle, so nearly over now, broke upon
-the little mind that knew not what pathos meant
-except by the slow tuition of a sorrow-clouded life.
-Poor child, she little knew by what relentless
-limitations even great city doctors may be bound.
-
-"Is it because you're glad, Jessie?" Madeline
-enquired in a reverent sort of voice, dimly
-diagnosing the paradox of human joy. But Jessie
-answered never a word; her gaze was fixed downward
-now upon the money, such a sum of it as she had
-never seen before in her poor meagre life. And the
-big tears fell on the unconscious things lying in
-her lap, the poor dead symbols baptized and quickened
-by the living tokens of human love and feeling.
-
-"Oh, yes," she sobbed at last, "it's 'cause I'm
-glad—mother'll be able to see the flowers now, an'
-the birds, an' everything—she loves them so. An'
-poor Harvey won't have to spend his raspberry
-money; he hasn't any winter coat, but now—I'm
-nearly as glad for Harvey as I am for mother," she
-broke off, suddenly drying her eyes, the ever-ready
-smile of childhood returning to the playground from
-which the tears had driven it.
-
-"What makes you so glad about Harvey?"
-Madeline broke in, hailing the returning smile with
-one no less radiant of her own.
-
-"Because—because mother was sorrier about Harvey
-than anything else. You see, he's nearly ready
-to—to be a scholar. An' mother always said she'd
-be able to do everything for Harvey—everything
-like that, you know—if she could only see. Our
-Harvey's goin' to be a great man—if he gets a
-chance," she prophesied solemnly, looking straight
-into Madeline's face, the bills quite forgotten now,
-one or two of them having fallen among the leaves
-upon the grass.
-
-"Mind you, our Harvey isn't always goin' to be
-poor—mother says there's lots of rich people gets
-poor, an' lots of poor people gets rich. An' that's
-what Harvey's goin' to be—an' mother an' me's
-goin' to help him," the little loyalist proclaimed, her
-face beaming with confidence.
-
-This opened up quite a vein of conversation, to
-which the youthful minds addressed themselves for a
-serious season. Finally, forgetting all philosophic
-matters, Jessie exclaimed: "I wonder where Harvey
-is—he doesn't often leave me alone like this. Won't
-he be glad though?—I'm goin' to find Harvey."
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Little did either of them dream how the object of
-their wonderings had been employed while they were
-sequestered in their peaceful nook.
-
-Having left the table, Harvey loitered about till
-varying sounds assured him that the meal he had
-abandoned was completed. Then he strode along
-till he stood beside the drowsy sorrel, still doing
-spasmodic battle with the flies. Unbuttoning his
-coat, he removed the tarts and hid them in a hollow
-log; their confinement had not improved them
-much. Then he stood a while, pondering. A
-relieved and purposeful expression at length indicated
-that his mind was formed. But considerable time
-elapsed before a wandering urchin hove in sight—and
-such a being was absolutely necessary. The boy
-who thus suddenly appeared was evidently bent on
-an inspection of the animal, looking even from afar
-with the critical eye that universal boyhood turns
-upon a horse. The youngster drifted nearer and
-nearer; he was contriving to chew a slab of tamarack
-gum and eat an apple at one and the self-same time,
-which tempered his gait considerably.
-
-Harvey nimbly slipped the noose in the bridle
-rein, the strap dangling free; the horse was quite
-oblivious, trying to snatch a little sleep between
-skirmishes.
-
-"Hello there!" Harvey called to the boy, "come
-here—I want you to run a message."
-
-The boy responded with a slightly quickened pace,
-and was almost at his side when he suddenly stood
-still and emitted a dreary howl.
-
-"What's the matter?" Harvey asked, slightly
-alarmed, the sorrel waking completely and looking
-around at the newcomer.
-
-"I bit my tongue," the urchin wailed, disgorging
-his varied grist as he spoke. The dual process had
-been too complicated for him and he cautiously
-pasted the gum about a glass alley, storing both
-away in his breeches pocket. Then he bent his
-undivided powers upon the apple.
-
-"That'll soon be all right," Harvey assured
-him—"rub it with your gums," he directed luminously.
-"Don't you see that horse is loose?—well, I want
-you to run back and tell Cecil Craig his horse has got
-untied; don't tell him who said so."
-
-"What'll you give me?" enquired he of the
-wounded tongue, extending the injured member with
-telescopic fluency, squinting one eye violently down
-to survey it. "Is it bleedin'?" he asked tenderly.
-
-"No—'tisn't even cut," Harvey responded curtly,
-examining it seriously, nevertheless, with the
-sympathy that belongs to boyhood. "Let it back—you
-look like a jay-bird."
-
-The other withdrew it reluctantly, the distorted eye
-slowly recovering its orbit till it rested on Harvey's
-face. "What'll you give me?" he asked again,
-making another savage onslaught on the apple.
-
-Harvey fumbled in his pocket, rather dismayed.
-But his face lightened as his hand came forth. "I'll
-give you this tooth-brush," he said, holding out a
-sorely wasted specimen. "I found it on the railroad
-track—some one dropped it, I guess. Or I'll give
-you this garter," exposing a gaudy circlet of elastic,
-fatigued and springless; "I found it after the circus
-moved away."
-
-The smaller boy's face lit up a moment at reference
-to the sacred institution whose departure had left life
-so dreary.
-
-"Charlie Winter found a shirt-stud an' half a pair
-of braces there," he said sympathetically; "he gave
-the shirt-stud to his sister, but he wears the braces
-hisself," he added, completing the humble tale.
-
-"Which'll you take?" Harvey enquired abruptly,
-fearful lest the sorrel might awaken to his liberty.
-
-"I don't want that," the younger said
-contemptuously, glancing at the emaciated tooth-brush;
-"we've got one at home—a better one than that.
-An' I don't wear garters," he added scornfully,
-glancing downwards at his bare legs, "except on
-Sundays, an' I've got one for that—the left leg never
-comes down. Haven't you got anything else?" he
-queried, looking searchingly in the direction of
-Harvey's pocket.
-
-"No, that's all I've got," returned Harvey as he
-restored the tooth-brush to its resting-place, still
-hopeful, however, of the garter. "It'll make an awful
-good catapult," he suggested seriously.
-
-"Let me see it," said the bargainer.
-
-Harvey handed it to him. "I'll hold your apple,"
-he offered.
-
-"Oh, never mind," the other replied discreetly;
-"I'll just hold it in my mouth," the memory of
-similar service and its tragic outcome floating before
-him. The boy took the flaming article in his hand
-and drew it back, snapping it several times against
-the sole of his uplifted foot.
-
-"All right," he said, withdrawing what survived
-of the apple, "it's a little mushy—but I'll take it."
-
-The errand having been repeated in detail, the
-youngster departed to perform it, an apple stem—but
-never a core—falling by the wayside as he went.
-Harvey gazed towards the brow of the hill till he
-caught the first glimpse of a hurrying form, then
-slipped in behind the tree, carefully concealed.
-
-Cecil Craig came apace, for he could see the
-dangling strap at a little distance. Hurriedly
-retying the horse, he was about to retrace his steps
-when he suddenly felt himself in the grip of an
-evidently hostile hand, securely attached from behind to
-the collar of his coat.
-
-"Now you can ask me those questions if you
-like," he heard a rather hoarse voice saying; and
-writhing round he looked into a face flaming with a
-wrath that was rekindling fast.
-
-Young Craig both squirmed and squealed; but the
-one was as fruitless as the other. Harvey was bent
-on dealing faithfully with him; and lack of spirit, rather
-than of strength, made the struggle a comparatively
-unequal one. After the preliminary application was
-completed, he dragged Craig to where he had hidden
-the rhubarb tarts, still crestfallen from solitary
-confinement.
-
-"Why don't you make some more jokes about the
-tarts my mother made?" Harvey enquired hotly;
-"you were real funny about them just before
-dinner." This reference to his mother seemed to
-fan the flame of his wrath anew, and another
-application was the natural result.
-
-"Let me go," Cecil gasped. "I was only joking—ouch!
-I was just joking, I say," as he tried to
-release himself from Harvey's tightening grip.
-
-"So'm I," retorted Harvey; "just a piece of play,
-the same as yours—only we're kind o' slow at seeing
-the fun of it, eh?" shaking the now solemn humourist
-till his hair rose and fell—"I'd have seen the
-point a good deal quicker if my mother hadn't worked
-so hard," he went on, flushing with the recollection
-and devoting himself anew to the facetious industry.
-"Pick up those tarts," he thundered suddenly.
-
-Cecil looked incredulously at his antagonist. One
-glance persuaded him and he slowly picked up one
-by the outer edge.
-
-"Take 'em all—the whole three," Harvey directed
-in a low tense tone. Which Cecil immediately did,
-not deeming the time opportune to refuse.
-
-"Now give them to your horse," Harvey said;
-"you know you said you'd a good mind to feed him
-with them."
-
-"I won't do it," Cecil declared stoutly. "I'll fight
-before I do it."
-
-Harvey smiled. "It won't do to have any fighting,"
-he said amiably. "I'll just give them to him
-myself—you better come along," he suggested,
-tightening his grip as he saw Cecil glancing fondly
-towards the brow of the hill, visions of a more
-peaceful scene calling him to return.
-
-Harvey escorted his captive to the horse's head;
-the equine was now wide awake and taking a lively
-interest in the animated interview; such preparations
-for mounting he had never seen before. But he was
-evidently disinclined to be drawn into the argument;
-for when Harvey held the rhubarb pie, rather
-battle-worn now, beneath his nose, he sniffed
-contemptuously and turned scornfully away.
-
-Cecil, somewhat convalescent, indulged a sneering
-little laugh. "Your little joke don't work," he said.
-"Pompey won't look at "em."
-
-"You'll wish he had, before you're through with
-them," Harvey returned significantly—"you've got
-to eat them between you."
-
-"Got to what?—between who?" Cecil gasped,
-years of grammatical instruction wasted now as the
-dread prospect dawned grim and gray; "I don't
-understand you," he faltered, turning remarkably
-white for one so utterly in the dark.
-
-"It doesn't need much understanding," Harvey
-returned laconically. "Go ahead."
-
-Then the real struggle began; compared to this
-difference of opinion, and the physical demonstration
-wherein it found expression, the previous
-encounter was but as kittens' frolic in the sun.
-
-The opening argument concluded after a protracted
-struggle, Harvey emerged uppermost, still pressing his
-hospitality upon the prostrate Cecil. "May as well
-walk the plank," he was saying; "besides, they're
-getting dryer all the time," he informed him as a friend.
-
-"Let me up," gurgled Cecil. Harvey promptly
-released him; seated on a log, the latter began to
-renew the debate.
-
-"I've had my dinner," he pleaded; "an' I ate all I
-could."
-
-"A little more won't hurt you—always room at
-the top, you know. Anyhow it's just dessert,"
-responded Harvey, holding out one of the tarts.
-Whereat Cecil again valiantly refused—and a worthy
-demonstration followed.
-
-The conquered at last kissed the rod and the
-solemn operation began, Harvey cheerfully breaking
-off chunk after chunk and handing them to the weary
-muncher. "There's lots of poor children in New
-York would be glad to get them," he said in answer
-to one of Cecil's most vigorous protests.
-
-"Say," murmured the stall-fed as he paused,
-almost mired in the middle of tart number two, "let
-me take the rest home an' eat 'em there—I'll really
-eat 'em—on my honour; I promise you," he declared
-solemnly.
-
-"I'm surprised a fellow brought up like you would
-think of carryin' stuff home to eat it—that's bad
-form. Here, take it—shut your eyes and open your
-mouth," commanded his keeper, holding another
-generous fragment to his lips.
-
-"I say," gulped Cecil plaintively, "give us a
-drink—it's chokin' me."
-
-"Shouldn't drink at your meals," returned Harvey;
-"bad for your digestion—but I guess a drop or two
-won't hurt you. Here, come this way—put on your
-cap—an' fetch that along," pointing at the surviving
-tart; "the exercise'll do you good," and he led the
-way downwards to a little brook meandering through
-the woods. No hand was on the victim's collar now;
-poor Cecil was in no shape for flight.
-
-"Give us your cap," said Harvey, thrusting it into
-the sparkling water and holding the streaming
-receptacle to Cecil's lips; "that's enough—that'll do
-just now; don't want you to get foundered."
-
-"I've had enough," groaned the guest a minute
-later, as if the moment had only come; "I've got it
-nearly all down—an' I hate crusts. I won't; by
-heavens, I tell you I won't," bracing himself as
-vigorously as his cargo would permit.
-
-"I'm the one to say when you've had enough,"
-Harvey retorted shortly, throwing himself into
-battle array as he spoke, "an' you bet you'll eat the
-crusts—I'll teach you to eat what's set before you an'
-make no remarks about the stuff—specially when it's
-not your own," he said, reverting to the original
-offense and warming up at the recollection. "You'd
-make a great fight, wouldn't you—fightin' you'd be
-like fightin' a bread-puddin'," he concluded scornfully.
-
-Cecil munched laboriously on. "There," Harvey
-suddenly interrupted, "now you've had enough—that
-wasn't rhubarb you were eatin'," he flung
-contemptuously at him; "'twas crow—an' that'll teach
-you to make sport of folks you think beneath you.
-You'll have some food for thought for a while—you'd
-better walk round a bit," he concluded with a grin as
-he turned and strode away, leaving the inlaid Cecil
-alone with his burdened bosom.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`THE ENCIRCLING GLOOM`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XII
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *THE ENCIRCLING GLOOM*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Real boyhood, with its cheerfulness amid
-present cares and its oblivion to those that
-were yet to come, was almost past. Such
-at least would have been the opinion of any accurate
-observer if he had noted Harvey's face that summer
-morning as he pressed along the city street. A
-deeper seriousness than mere years bestow looked out
-from the half-troubled, half-hopeful gaze; not that it
-was ill-becoming—the contrary rather—for there was
-something of steady resoluteness in his eyes that
-attested his purpose to play some worthy part in this
-fevered life whose stern and warlike face had already
-looked its challenge to his own.
-
-How pathetic were many a poor procession—and
-how romantic too—if we could but see the invisibles
-that accompany the humblest trudgers on the
-humblest street!
-
-For Memory and Hope and Fear and Sorrow and
-silent Pain—Death too, noiselessly pursuing—and
-Love, chiefest of them all, mute and anguished
-often-times, crowding Death aside and battling bravely in
-the shadowy struggle; how often might all these be
-seen accompanying the lowly, had we but the
-lightened vision!
-
-Thus was it there that summer day. The careless
-noticed nothing but a well developed lad, his poor
-clothes as carefully repaired and brushed as faithful
-hands could make them for his visit to the city; and they
-saw beside him only a white-faced woman, her whole
-mien marked by timidity and gentleness, as if she
-felt how poor and small was the part she played in
-the surging life about her. Both made their way
-carefully, keeping close in under the shadow of the
-buildings, as if anxious to escape the jostling throng.
-The woman's hand was in her son's; she seemed to
-be trusting altogether to his guidance and protection,
-and very tenderly he shielded her from the little
-perils of the street. Timidly, yet right eagerly, they
-made their way—for the quest was a great one; and
-all the years to come, they knew, were wrapped in
-the bosom of that anxious hour.
-
-"Hadn't we better get on one of those street cars,
-mother?" the boy asked, glancing wistfully at a
-passing trolley. "I'm sure you're tired."
-
-"How much does it cost, Harvey?" the mother asked.
-
-"I'm not very sure, but I think it's ten cents for
-us both," he answered, relaxing his pace.
-
-The mother pressed on anew. "We can't afford
-it, dear," she said; "it'll take such a lot to pay
-the doctor—we'll have to save all we can; and I'm
-not very tired," she concluded, taking his hand
-again.
-
-When, after much of scrutiny and more of enquiry,
-they stood at length before the doctor's imposing
-place, both instinctively stopped and gazed a little,
-the outlines of the stately house floating but very
-dimly before the woman's wistful eyes.
-
-"Will we ask him how much it costs before we go
-in?" Harvey's mother asked him anxiously.
-
-The boy pondered a moment. "I don't think so,"
-he said at length; "he mightn't like it."
-
-"But perhaps we haven't got enough."
-
-"Well, we can send the rest after we get
-home—I've got the raspberry money left."
-
-The woman sighed and smiled together, permitting
-herself to be led on up the steps.
-
-Harvey's hand was on the bell: "You don't suppose
-he'll do anything to you, will he, mother? He
-won't hurt you, will he?"
-
-"No, no, child, of course not; he'll make me
-well," his mother said reassuringly. In a moment
-the bell was answered and the excited pair were ushered in.
-
-Nothing could have been more kindly than their
-reception at the hands of the eminent doctor; nor
-could the most distinguished patient have been more
-carefully and sympathetically examined. Almost
-breathless, Harvey sat waiting for the verdict.
-
-But the doctor was very vague in his conclusions.
-"You must use this lotion. And—and we'll hope
-for the best," he said; "and whenever you're in the
-city you must come and see me—don't make a
-special trip for that purpose, of course," he added
-cautiously.
-
-"Why?" Harvey asked acutely.
-
-The doctor made an evasive reply. Harvey's face
-was dark.
-
-"How much is it?" he said in a hollow voice, his
-hand going to his pocket as he spoke.
-
-"Oh, that's not important—we'll just leave that
-till you're in the city again," said the kindly doctor,
-shaking Harvey playfully by the shoulder.
-
-"I'd sooner pay it now, sir; I've got—I've got
-some money," declared the boy.
-
-"Well, all right," returned the physician; "let me
-see—how would a dollar appeal to you? My charge
-will be one dollar," he said gravely.
-
-Harvey was busy unwinding his little roll. "It's
-not very much," he said without looking up; "I
-thought 'twould be a lot more than that—I haven't
-got anything smaller than five dollars, sir."
-
-"Neither have I—what a rich bunch we are," the
-doctor answered quickly; "I tell you—I'm liable
-to be up in Glenallen some of these days for a bowling
-match; I'll just collect it then," leading the way
-towards the door as he spoke, his farewell full of
-cordial cheer.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Neither mother nor son uttered a word till they
-were some little distance from the doctor's office.
-Suddenly the former spoke.
-
-"The world's full of trouble, Harvey—but I believe
-it's fuller of kindness. It's wonderful how many
-tender-hearted folks there are. Wasn't it good of
-him?"
-
-Harvey made no answer, but his hand loosened
-itself from hers. "I believe I—I forgot something,"
-he said abruptly. "Just wait here, mother; I'll be
-back in just a minute—you can rest here, see,"
-leading her to a bench on the green sward of a little
-crescent not much more than half a stone's throw
-away.
-
-A minute later he was back in the doctor's office,
-the surprised physician opening the door himself.
-"What's the matter, boy—forgotten something?"
-he queried.
-
-"No," Harvey answered stoutly, his face very
-white; "but I knew you didn't tell me everything,
-sir—and I want to know. I want you to tell me
-now, quick—mother's waiting."
-
-"Why do you want to know, laddie?"
-
-"Because she's my mother, sir. And I've got a
-little sister at home—and I'm going to take care of
-them both; and I want to know if mother's eyes are
-going to get better, sir," he almost panted, one
-statement chasing the other as fast as the words could
-come.
-
-The doctor's face was soft with grave compassion;
-long years of familiarity with human suffering had
-not chilled that sacred fire. Putting his arm about
-the youth's shoulder, he drew the throbbing form
-close to him. "My boy," he began in a low voice,
-"I won't deceive you. Your mother's eyesight is
-almost gone. But still," he hastened on as the lad
-started and turned his pleading eyes up to the
-doctor's face, "it might come back—you can never
-tell. It's an affection of the optic nerve—it's often
-aggravated by a violent shock of some kind—and
-I've had cases where it did come back. It might
-return, lad, might come very slowly or very
-suddenly—and I can say no more than that."
-
-The poor boy never moved; the mournful eyes
-never wandered an instant from the doctor's face.
-The silence seemed long; at least to the physician.
-One or two patients had arrived meantime, waiting
-in the outer room—and a coachman's shining hat
-could be seen through the spacious window. But
-it did not dawn on Harvey that such a doctor could
-have any other care in all the world, or any serious
-duty except such as now engrossed them both.
-
-"What are you going to do?" the physician said
-presently.
-
-"I'm going back to my mother," the boy
-answered simply, picking up his hat.
-
-"Oh, yes," and the other repressed a smile; "but
-I mean—what are you going to do at home? What
-will you go at in Glenallen—you go to school, don't
-you?"
-
-"I'm going to work all the time," Harvey replied
-resolutely, moving along the hall.
-
-The doctor's hand was on the door. "I'm sorry
-for you, my lad," he said gently. "But there's
-always hope—we're all God's patients after all," he
-added earnestly.
-
-Harvey put his hand against the opening door,
-his face turning in fullness of candour and trust
-towards the doctor.
-
-"I've prayed about mother for a long time," he
-said; "is it any use to keep on, sir? You're a
-specialist and you ought to know."
-
-The doctor closed the door quite tight. "Don't
-let any specialist settle that matter for you," he said
-a little hoarsely. "It often seems as if the good
-Lord wouldn't begin till they get through. So you
-pray on, my lad—for there's no healing, after all, but
-comes from God." Then he opened the door and
-the broken-hearted went out into the street.
-
-Suffused and dim, blinking bravely through it
-all, were the mournful eyes as Harvey retraced his
-steps towards his mother; swift and deep was the
-train of thought that wound its way through his
-troubled mind. For there is no ally to deep and
-earnest thinking like a loving heart that anguish
-has bestirred—all true quickening of our mental
-faculties is the handiwork of the soul. Harvey
-saw the trees, the sky, the birds between—all
-different now, more precious, more wonderful to behold;
-for he saw them in the light of his mother's
-deepening darkness, and the glory of all that was
-evanishing from her appeared the more beautiful, pitifully
-beautiful, to his own misty eyes.
-
-Involuntarily he thought of the future; of the
-twilight years that lay beyond—and his inward
-eyes turned shuddering away. The years that were
-past, those at least that had come and gone before
-the threatening shadow first appeared, seemed to lie
-behind him like a lane of light. Poverty and
-obscurity and sorrow and care had been well content
-to abide together in their humble home—almost
-their only guests save love. Yet his memory now
-of those earlier years was only of their gladness, their
-happiness, their light—all the rest had vanished like
-a dream when one awakes. He remembered only
-that they two, the fatherless, had been wont to look
-deep and lovingly into the eyes that looked back
-their wealth of fondness into the children's
-faces—night or day, day or night, that light was never
-quenched; they could see her and she could
-see them—and to look was to possess, though his
-early thoughts could not have defined this mystic
-truth, cherish it fondly though they did. But for the
-future—ah me! for the future, with blindness in a
-mother's eyes.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Yet Harvey's thought, swift and pensive as it was,
-was troubled by no prospect of burden for himself
-and by no apprehension of all the load that must
-be moved, under cover of the fast-falling dark, from
-his mother's shoulders to his own. His thought was
-what must be called heart-thought, and that alone.
-If a fleeting view of new responsibilities, or a
-melting picture of his sister's face, hung for a moment
-before the inward eye, it retreated fast before the
-great vision that flooded his soul with tenderness,
-the vision of a woman—and she his mother—sitting
-apart in the silence and the dark, the busy hands
-denied the luxury of work, the ever-open Bible closed
-before her, the great world of beauty receding into
-shadow; and, most of all, there rose before him the
-image of her face, unresponsive and unsmiling when
-the tender eyes of her own children should fall upon
-it, mutely searching, yearning silently for the
-answering sunshine of days that would come no more.
-
-Without a word Harvey took his seat beside his
-mother. Her hand slipped quietly out and took
-his own, but without speech or sound—and in that
-moment Harvey learned, as he had never known before,
-how cruel are the lips of silence. Suddenly he
-noticed a cab, rolling idly along, the driver throwing
-his eyes hither and thither, poising like a kingfisher
-for its plunge.
-
-The boy raised his hand in signal and the cabby
-swooped down upon him like one who has found his
-prey.
-
-"Get in, mother—we'll drive back," he said
-quietly.
-
-His mother, startled beyond measure at the
-prospect of extravagance so unwonted, began to
-remonstrate, almost refusing. But a different note seemed
-to have come into Harvey's voice, his words touched
-with something that indicated a new era, something
-of the authority that great compassion gives, and
-in a moment she found herself yielding with a
-dependent confidence she had never felt before.
-
-"Where to?" asked the man.
-
-"Anywhere," said Harvey—"somewhere near the
-station; I'll tell you where."
-
-"It'll—it'll cost a dollar," the man ventured, his
-hand still on the door and his eyes making a swift
-inventory of the boy's rather unpromising apparel.
-
-"I'll pay you," the latter answered sternly. "Shut
-the door; close the window too," he ordered—"close
-both the windows. And don't drive fast."
-
-The spendthrift impulse must have been heaven-born
-and that vagrant chariot been piloted from afar.
-For they two within felt something of sanctuary
-peace as the driver vanished to his place and they
-found themselves alone—alone with each other and
-the sorrow that was deep and thrilling as their love.
-They could hear and feel the busy tide of life about
-them; the pomp of wealth and the tumult of business
-frowned from towering mansions, or swept indifferent
-by, knowing nothing, caring less, about those
-nestling two who were all alone in the mighty city—but
-they had each other, and the haughty world was
-shut out from them, all its cruel grandeur, all its
-surging billows powerless to rob them of what their
-stricken hearts held dear. And, if the truth were
-told, many a stately house and many a flashing
-carriage that passed them by, held less of love's real
-wealth than did the mud-bespattered cab that creaked
-and rumbled on its way.
-
-Several minutes elapsed before either spoke.
-Then the mother turned towards the silent lad, her
-face sweet in the wistful smile that stole across it.
-
-"Did you find what you went back for, dear?"
-she asked.
-
-Harvey cast one sharp agonized glance towards
-the gentle face—and it told him all. He knew then
-that the pain of either concealing or revealing was to
-be spared him; but his heart leaped in pity and in
-boundless love as he saw the light upon the worn
-face, the brave and tender signal that he knew the
-wounded spirit had furnished all for him.
-
-He spoke no answer to her words; he knew
-that she expected none. But the answer came
-nevertheless, and in richer language than halting
-words could learn. For he rose half erect in the
-carriage, careless as to whether the world's disdainful
-eye might see, his arms stealing around the yielding
-and now trembling form with a strength and
-passion that were the gift of the first really anguished
-hour his life had ever known.
-
-The woman felt its power, caught its message,
-even inwardly rejoiced in the great security;
-pavilion like to this she had never found before in all
-her storm-swept life.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," she murmured at last, "Harvey,
-my son, God's been good to me; I'm almost
-happy when—when I feel how much you are to me
-now—and Jessie too," she added quickly; "poor
-Jessie—it'll be hard for her."
-
-Mutely, reverently, guided from on high, Harvey
-strove to speak the burden of his heart. But it
-ended only in tears and tender tokens of hand and
-lip, his sorrow outpouring the story of its pity and
-devotion as best it could.
-
-"I'll always take care of you, mother," he whispered;
-"always—just like you've taken care of us.
-And we'll wait till you get better, mother—we'll wait
-together."
-
-His mother's fingers were straying about his hair.
-"I know it, darling," she said; "some ways I'm so
-poor, Harvey; but other ways I'm wonderfully rich—the
-highest ways. And now, Harvey," straightening
-up as she spoke, "there's something I want to
-attend to. You must tell the man to drive to a store
-where we get clothes—coats and things, you know.
-I want to get something."
-
-"What?" asked Harvey suspiciously.
-
-"It's for you. It's a winter coat—you know you
-haven't one, Harvey."
-
-Then followed a stout protest and then a vigorous
-debate. But the mother conquered. "You mustn't
-forget that I'm your mother, Harvey," she finally
-urged, and Harvey had no response for that. But
-after they had alighted and the purchase had been
-duly made he contrived to withdraw the genial
-salesman beyond reach of his mother's hearing.
-
-"Have you got something the same price as this?"
-he asked hurriedly; "something for a lady—a cloak,
-or a dressing-gown—one that would fit, you know,"
-he said, glancing in the direction of his mother.
-
-The clerk was responsive enough; in a moment the
-exchange was effected, and Harvey, his mother's arm
-linked with his, led the way out to the crowded street.
-
-They made their way back to the station. As
-Harvey passed within its arching portals, he
-bethought himself sadly of the high hope, now almost
-dead and gone, that had upborne his heart when last
-he had passed beneath them. It seemed like months,
-rather than a few hours, so charged with suspense
-and feeling had those hours been.
-
-The train was in readiness and they were soon
-settled for the homeward journey. But scarcely had
-they begun to move when the door before them
-opened and Cecil Craig made his appearance. He
-evidently knew that Harvey and his mother were
-aboard, for his eye roamed enquiringly over the
-passengers, resting as it fell on the two serious faces.
-Suddenly he seemed to note that Harvey had
-pre-empted the seat opposite to the one on which he and
-his mother had taken their places; a small valise and
-the parcel containing the surreptitious purchase were
-lying on it. Whereupon Cecil strode forward.
-"Take those things off," he hectored—"Want the
-whole train to yourself? Don't you know that's
-against the rules—I want to sit there."
-
-Harvey had not seen him approaching, for his eyes
-had been furtively studying his mother's face. He
-started, looking up at Cecil almost as though he were
-not there; then he quietly removed the encumbrances
-and even turned the seat for Cecil to take his
-place. He wondered dumbly to himself what might
-be the cause of this strange calmness, this absolute
-indifference; he did not know how a master-sorrow
-can make all lesser irritations like the dust.
-
-"Keep it," Cecil said insolently. "I'm going back
-to the Pullman—I wanted to see who'd walk the plank
-to-day," casting at Harvey a contemptuous sneer the
-latter did not even see. And no thought of Cecil, or
-his insult, or his phantom triumph, mingled with
-Harvey's grave reflections as they rolled swiftly
-homeward; he had other matters to consider, of more
-importance far.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`THE DEWS OF SORROW`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XIII
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *THE DEWS OF SORROW*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-The dusk was gathering about them as the
-returning travellers wended their way along
-the almost deserted street. The dim outline
-of the slumbering hills could be seen across the
-river—for Glenallen had grown in a circle upon
-surrounding heights—and as Harvey's eyes rested now
-and again upon them in the dying light of the summer
-day, he felt a secret sense of help and comfort,
-as if some one knew and cared for his clouded life.
-It seemed good to walk these streets again—so different
-from those of the city—with the familiar faces
-and the kindly voices; and often was he stopped and
-questioned, not without delicacy and chaste reserve,
-as to the outcome of their pilgrimage. Which gave
-his heart some balm, at least for the moment.
-
-"Look, mother," he cried suddenly, forgetting in
-his eagerness; "look—I can see our light," his face
-glowing as if the gleam were from palace windows.
-His mother raised her head quickly, as if she also
-saw. Perhaps it was even clearer to her, though she
-beheld it not. But together they quickened their
-pace, for they knew that earth's dearest shelter, how
-humble soever it might be, was just before.
-
-And as they came closer, Harvey could see, the
-white frock showing clear against the shadows, the
-outline of his sister's form. Poor child, the day had
-been long for her, waiting and wondering, the portent
-of the tidings that the night might bring mingling
-with all her childish thoughts. She was moving out
-from the door-step now, peering eagerly, starting
-forward or restraining herself again as doubt and
-certainty of the approaching pair impelled her.
-Suddenly she seemed to be quite sure, and with a little
-cry she bounded along the street, the eager footfalls
-pattering with the rapidity of love.
-
-The mother knew that music well; her hand
-slipped out of Harvey's grasp, the hungry arms
-outstretched as she felt the ardent form approaching—and
-in a moment, tears and laughter blending, the girlish
-arms were tight about the mother's neck and warm
-kisses were healing the wound within. Presently
-Jessie withdrew her face from the heaving bosom,
-her eyes turned wistfully upon her mother's, plaintively
-searching for the cure her childlike hope had
-expected to find obvious at a glance. Disappointment
-and pain spoke from her eyes—she could see
-no difference—and she turned almost reproachfully
-upon her brother.
-
-"What did he—what——?" she began; but something
-on Harvey's face fell like a forbidding finger on
-her lips and her question died in silence.
-
-"I brought you something pretty from the city,
-Jessie," the mother broke in. She knew what had
-checked the words. "It's in the satchel, dear—and
-we'll open it as soon as we get home."
-
-"What's in that other bundle?" asked the child.
-
-"It's Harvey's winter coat," replied the mother.
-
-"I'm so glad," Jessie said simply. "And oh, I've
-got good news too," she went on enthusiastically.
-"I sold three pairs of those knitted stockings—all
-myself; and the man wouldn't take any change—I
-only asked him once. It was thirty-one cents—and
-the money's in the cup," she concluded eagerly as
-they passed within the little door, the bell above
-clanging their welcome home.
-
-The valise was duly opened and Jessie's present
-produced amid great elation. Only a simple blue
-sash, selected by her brother with grave deliberation
-from the assortment on a bargain counter that lay
-like victims on an altar; but Jessie's joy was
-beautiful to behold, aided and abetted in it as she was by
-the other two, both mother and son trying on the
-flashing girdle, only to declare that it became Jessie
-best of all.
-
-Suddenly the girl exclaimed: "Oh, Harvey, the
-chickens missed you so. I'm sure they did—Snappy
-wouldn't take any supper. They're in bed, of course,
-but I don't think they're sleeping—let's just go out
-and see them. Come."
-
-Harvey was willing enough, and the two sallied
-out together. But Jessie held her hand tight on the
-door, drowsy chucklings within all unheeded, as she
-turned her white face upon her brother.
-
-"Now," she said imperiously, the voice low and
-strained, "tell me—tell me quick, Harvey."
-
-"I thought you wanted me to see the chickens," he
-evaded.
-
-"I hate the chickens—and that was a lie about
-Snappy's supper. I just wanted to ask you about
-mother. Tell me quick, Harvey."
-
-Harvey stammered something; but he needed to
-say no more—the girl sank sobbing at his feet.
-
-"I knew it," she cried. "I just knew it—oh,
-mother, mother! And she'll soon never see again, and
-it'll always be night all the time—an' she'll never
-look at you or me any more, Harvey, she'll never
-look at you or me again. An' I got a little photograph
-took to-day, a little tintype—just five cents—an'
-I thought she'd be able to see it when she came
-back. Oh, Harvey, Harvey," and the unhappy child,
-long years a struggler with poverty and cloud, poured
-forth, almost as with a woman's voice, the first strain
-of anguish her little heart had ever known.
-
-Harvey sank beside her, his arm holding her close.
-The twilight was now deepening into dark, a fitting
-mantel for these two enshadowed hearts. The still
-form of the bending brother, already giving promise
-of manhood's strength, seemed, even in outward
-aspect, to speak of inner compassion as he bended
-over the slender and weaker frame of his little sister.
-Strong and fearless and true he was; and if any eye
-had been keen enough to penetrate that encircling
-gloom and catch a vision of all that lay behind the
-humble scene, the knightly soul of the struggling boy
-would have stood forth like a sheltering oak—so
-powerless, nevertheless, to shield the clinging life
-beside him, overswept as it was by the winds and
-waves of sorrow. But the purpose and the heart
-were there—the fatherless spreading gentle wings
-above the fatherless—and the scene was a holy one,
-typical of all humanity at its highest, and faintly
-faltering the story of the Cross. For if human
-tenderness and pity are not lights, broken though they be,
-of the great Heart Divine, then all life's noblest
-voices are but mockery and lies.
-
-"Don't, Jessie, please don't," he murmured, his
-own tears flowing fast. "It'll only keep her from
-getting better—she'll see your eyes all red an'——"
-
-"She won't—she can't," sobbed the girl; "you
-know she can't—she can't see, Harvey," a fresh tide
-outbreaking at the thought.
-
-"But she'll feel it, Jessie. Mothers can feel
-everything like that—'specially everybody's own mother,"
-he urged, vainly trying to control his own grief.
-"And anyhow, the doctor said she might get better
-some time—perhaps all of a sudden. And we've got
-to help her, Jessie; and we've got to make her happy
-too—and we can—mother said we could," he cried,
-his tone growing firmer as the great life-work loomed
-before him.
-
-Hope is the most contagious of all forms of health;
-and with wonderful gentleness and power the youthful
-comforter drew the sobbing heart beside him into
-the shelter of his own tender courage, the hiding-place
-of his own loving purpose. Soon Jessie was
-staring, wide-eyed, at her brother, as he unfolded the
-new duties they must perform together. That word
-itself was never used, but her heart answered, as all
-true hearts must ever answer, to the appeal of God.
-
-"I'll try, Harvey," she said at last. "I'll do the
-best I can to help mother to get well—an' I'll get up
-in the mornings an' make the porridge myself," she
-avowed, smiling, the first step showing clear.
-
-Hand in hand they went back to the house,
-the light of eager purpose upon both their faces.
-As they entered, a familiar voice fell on Harvey's ear.
-
-"We was jest a-goin' by,"—it was David Borland's
-staccato—"an' I thought I'd drop in an' see if you
-was all safe home. Don't take off your things, Madeline;
-we're not a-visitin'," he said to the girl beside
-him. For she was bidding fair to settle for a
-protracted stay.
-
-"Yes, we're safe home, thank you," answered
-Mrs. Simmons, "and it's lovely to get back. I'm a poor
-traveller."
-
-"'Tain't safe to travel much these days," rejoined
-Mr. Borland after he had greeted Harvey; whose
-face, as well as a fugitive word or two, hushed any
-queries that were on David's lips—"so many
-accidents, I always feel skeery on the trains—must be
-hard to run Divine predestination on schedule, since
-they got them heavy engines on the light rails. I
-often think the undertakers is part of the railroad
-trust," he concluded, smiling sententiously into all
-the faces at once.
-
-Some further conversation ensued, prompted in a
-general way by the excursion to the city, and dealing
-finally with the question of eminent city doctors
-and their merits.
-
-"I only went onct to a big city man like that,"
-David said reminiscently, "and it was about my
-eyes, too. You see, I rammed my shaving-brush
-into one, one evenin' when I was shavin' in the dusk.
-Well, I was awful skeery about what he'd charge—didn't
-have much of the almighty needful in them
-days. An' I heard he charged the Governor-General's
-missus five thousand dollars, a week or two
-before, for takin' a speck o' dust out of her eye—castin'
-out the mote, as the Scriptur says; I'd leave a
-sand-pit stay there before I'd shell out like that. Well,
-anyhow, I was skeered, 'cause I knew me an' the
-nobility had the same kind of eyes. So I didn't dress
-very good—wore some old togs. An' after he got
-through—just about four minutes an' a half—I asked
-him what was the damage. Says he: 'What do you
-do, Mr. Borland?' 'I work in a foundry,' says I.
-'Oh, well,' says he, 'call it five dollars.' So I yanked
-out a roll o' bills about the size of a hind quarter o'
-beef, an' I burrows till I gets a five—then I gives it
-to him. 'How do you come to have a wad like that,
-Mr. Borland,' says he, 'if you work in a foundry?'
-'I own the foundry,' says I, restorin' the wad to
-where most Scotchmen carries their flask. 'Oh!'
-says he, lookin' hard at the little fiver. 'Oh, I'll give
-you another toadskin,' says I, 'jest to show there's
-no hard feelin'.' 'Keep it,' says he—an' he was
-laughin' like a guinea hen, 'keep it, an' buy a marble
-monument for yourself, and put at the bottom of it
-what a smart man you was,'" and David slapped his
-knee afresh in gleeful triumph. For the others, too,
-there was laughter and to spare; which very purpose
-David had designed his autobiography to accomplish.
-A moment later Madeline and her father were at
-the door, the little circle, laughing still, around him
-as they stepped without.
-
-"You're a terrible one for shakin' hands, girl,"
-David said to his daughter as they stood a moment
-on the step. "That's a habit I never got much into
-me." For Madeline's farewell had had much of
-meaning in it, the sweet face suffused with sympathy
-as she shook hands with all—the mother first, then
-Jessie, then Harvey—and the low voice had dropped
-a word or two that told the depth and sincerity of
-her feeling. When she said good-bye to Harvey,
-the pressure of her hand, light and fluttering as it
-was, found a response so warm and clinging that a
-quick flush overflowed her face, before which the
-other's fell, so striking was its beauty, so full of deep
-significance the message of the strong and soulful
-eyes. Her father's child was she, and the fascination
-of sorrow had early touched her heart.
-
-The door was almost closed when David turned to
-call back lustily:
-
-"Oh, Harvey—Harvey, Mr. Nickle wants to see
-you; Geordie Nickle, you know; an' if you come
-round to my office to-morrow about half-past four,
-I think you'll find him there. He's got a great
-scheme on; he's the whitest man I ever run acrost, I
-think—for a Scotchman."
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
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-.. _`THE WEIGHING OF THE ANCHOR`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XIV
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *THE WEIGHING OF THE ANCHOR*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Surely the years love best to ply their
-industry among the young. For two or three of
-them, each taking up the work where its
-predecessor laid it down, can transform a youth or
-maiden to an extent that is really wonderful.
-Perhaps this is because the young lend themselves so
-cheerfully to everything that makes for change, and
-resent all tarrying on life's alluring way. They love
-to make swift calls at life's chief ports, so few in
-number though they be; they are impatient to try the
-open sea beyond, unrecking that the last harbour and
-the long, long anchorage are all too near at hand.
-
-The difference that these silent craftsmen can soon
-make upon a face might have been easily visible to
-any observant eye, had such an eye been cast one
-evening upon the still unbroken circle of the
-Simmons home. The mother had changed but little;
-nor had anything changed to her—unless it were
-that all upon which her eyes had closed shone brighter
-in the light that memory imparts. Still holding
-her secret hidden deep, her fondness for those left
-to her seemed but to deepen as the hope of her
-husband's return grew more and more faint within.
-If the hidden tragedy delved an ever deeper wound
-under cover of her silence, it had no outward token
-but an intenser love towards those from whom she
-had so long concealed it.
-
-But Jessie and Harvey had turned the time to
-good account. For the former had almost left behind
-the stage of early childhood, merging now into the
-roundness and plumpness—and consciousness, too—that
-betoken a girl's approach to the sunlit hills of
-womanhood.
-
-Yet Harvey had changed the most of all. The
-stalwart form had taken to itself the proportions of
-opening manhood—height, firmness, breadth of
-shoulders, length of limb, all made a strong and
-comely frame. The poise of the head indicated
-resolute activity, and the evening light that now played
-upon his face revealed a countenance in which
-sincerity, seriousness, hopefulness, might be traced by a
-practiced eye. Humour, too, was there—that twin
-sister unto seriousness—maintaining its own place in
-the large eyes that had room for other things beside;
-and the glance that was sometimes turned upon the
-autumn scene without, but oftener upon his mother
-and his sister, was eloquent of much that lay behind.
-The tuition of his soul had left its mark upon his
-face. Early begun and relentlessly continued, it had
-taught him much of life, of life's ways and life's
-severities—not a little, too, of the tactics she demands
-from all who would prevail in the stern battle for
-which he had been compelled so early to enlist. New
-duties, unusual responsibilities, severe mental exercise
-such as serious study gives, stern self-denial, constant
-thought of others, these had conspired to provide the
-manly seriousness upon the still almost boyish face.
-
-Autumn reigned without, as has been already said,
-and in robes of gold. Glowing and glorious, the oak
-and the elm and the maple wrapt in bridal garments,
-glad nature went onward to her death, mute
-preceptress to pagan Christians as to how they too
-should die.
-
-A graver autumn reigned within. For the little
-circle was to be broken on the morrow, and the
-humble home was passing through one of earth's truest
-crises, giving up an inmate to the storm and peril of
-the great world without. The world itself may
-smile, stretching forth indifferent hands to receive the
-outgoing life; what cares the ocean for another
-swimmer as he joins the struggling throng?—but was
-the surrender ever made without tumult and secret
-tears?
-
-"Look, look," Jessie cried, as she turned her face
-a moment from the pane; "there goes Cecil and
-Madeline—I guess he's taking her for a farewell
-drive."
-
-In spite of himself, Harvey joined his sister at the
-window.
-
-"Is Madeline with him?" he said, throwing quite
-an unusual note of carelessness into the words.
-
-"Yes, that's the second time they've driven past
-here—at least, I'm almost sure it was them before,"
-Jessie averred, straining her neck a little to follow the
-disappearing carriage.
-
-"I wonder what he'll do with his horse when he's
-away," Harvey pursued, bent on an irrelevant theme,
-and thankful that the light was dim. The inward
-riot that disturbed him would have been much
-allayed could he have known that the parade before
-their door was of Madeline's own contriving;
-presuming, that is, that he understood the combination
-of the woman-heart.
-
-"Doesn't it seem strange, Harvey, that you and
-Cecil should start for the University the very same
-day?—he's going on the same train in the morning,
-isn't he?" enquired Jessie, her eyes abandoning
-their pursuit.
-
-"I think so," her brother answered carelessly.
-"Jessie," he digressed decisively, "I want you to
-promise me something. I'm going to write you a
-letter every week, and I want you to take and read
-it—or nearly all of it; sometimes there'll be bits you
-can't—to Mr. Nickle. If it weren't for him—for him
-and Mr. Borland—I wouldn't be going to college at
-all, as you know."
-
-"That I will," the sister answered heartily; "I
-think he's just the dearest old man. And I can
-manage it easily enough—there's hardly a day but
-he comes into the store to buy something. He and
-Mr. Borland always seem to be wanting something,
-something that we've always got, too. They must
-eat an awful lot of sweet stuff between them. And
-every time Mr. Nickle comes in, he says: 'Weel,
-hoo's the scholarship laddie the day?'—he's awfully
-proud about you getting the scholarship, Harvey."
-
-Her brother's face brightened. "Well there's one
-thing I'm mighty glad of," he said, "and that is that
-I won't be very much of a charge for my first year at
-any rate—that hundred and fifty will help to see me
-through."
-
-"But you mustn't stint yourself, Harvey," the
-mother broke in with tender tone. "You must get
-a nice comfortable place to board in, and have a good
-warm bed—and lots of good nourishing things to
-eat. I know I'll often be waking up in the night and
-wondering if you're cold. Do you know, dear," she
-went on, her voice trembling a little, "we've never
-been a night separated since you were born—it's
-going to be hard for a while, I'm afraid," she said a
-little brokenly as the youth nestled down beside her,
-his head resting on her lap as in the old childhood
-days.
-
-"It'll be harder for me, mother," he said; "but I
-think I'd be almost happy if you were well again. It
-nearly breaks my heart to think of leaving you here
-in—in the dark," he concluded, his arm stealing
-fondly about her neck.
-
-The woman bended low to his caress. "Don't,
-Harvey—you mustn't. It's not the dark—it's never
-dark where Christ abides," she broke out with a
-fervour that almost startled him, for it was but rarely
-that she spoke like this. "I've got so much to
-thank God for, my son—it's always light where love
-makes it light. And I'm so proud and happy that
-you're going to get the chance you need, Harvey.
-Oh, but He's been good to my little ones," she
-cried, her voice thrilling with the note of real
-gratitude that is heard, strangely enough, only from those
-who sit among the shadows. The noblest notes of
-praise have come from lips of pain.
-
-"You'll write to me, won't you, mother?—you'll
-tell Jessie what to say, and it'll be almost like getting
-it from yourself."
-
-"Oh, yes," she answered quickly, "and I'll always
-be able to sign my name. And if you're ever in
-trouble, Harvey—or if you're ever tempted—and
-that's sure to come in a great city like the one
-you're going to—remember your mother's praying
-for you. I'm laid aside, I know, my son, and there's
-not much now that I can do; but there's one thing
-left to me—I have the throne of grace; and if any
-one knows its comfort, surely it's your mother."
-
-"Mother, won't you tell me something?" he interrupted
-decisively.
-
-"What is it, my son?"
-
-"Isn't there something else, mother—some other
-sorrow, I mean—that I don't know about? I've had
-a feeling for a long time that there was—was
-something else."
-
-The mother was long in answering. But she
-raised her hand and drew his arm tighter about her
-neck, the protecting love very sweet. "There's
-nothing but what I get grace to bear—don't ask
-me more, my child," and as she spoke the bending
-boy felt the hot tears begin to fall. They soon came
-thick and fast, for the mother's heart was melting
-within her, and as he felt the sacred drops upon his
-head the son's soul rose up in purpose and devotion,
-making its solemn vow that he would be worthy of
-a love so great.
-
-The evening wore away, every hour precious to
-them all. Very simple and homely were the counsels
-that fell from the mother's lips; that he must be
-careful about making new acquaintances, especially such
-as would hail him on the street, and speak his name,
-and cite his friends in witness—they doubtless all
-knew about the scholarship money; that he must
-study with his light behind him—not in front—and
-never later than half-past ten; that a couple of
-pairs of stockings, at the very least, must always be
-on hand in case of wet feet and resultant colds;
-that if cold in bed, he must ask for extra covering—he
-simply must not be afraid to ask for what he
-wants; that he must be very careful on those crowded
-city streets, especially of the electric cars; that in
-case of illness he must telegraph immediately,
-regardless of expense; that he must not forsake the
-Bible-class on Sabbath afternoons, but find one there
-and enroll himself at once; that he must accept
-gladly if fine people asked him to their homes,
-caring nothing though other students may be better
-dressed than he—they didn't get the scholarship,
-anyhow.
-
-And Harvey promised all. More than likely that
-he took the admonitions lightly; he was not so much
-concerned with them as with the conflicting emotions
-that possessed him, eager joy that the battle was
-about to begin in earnest and yearning sympathy
-for the devoted hearts he was to leave behind. If
-all to which he was going forth loomed before him
-as a battle, it was as a delicious battle, whose process
-should be perpetual pleasure, its issue decisive
-victory. No thought of its real peril, its subtle
-conflict, its despairing hours, marred the prospect
-of the beckoning years; he knew not how he would
-yet revise his estimates as to who are our real
-enemies, nor did he dream that his fiercest foes would
-be found within—and that the battle of inward living
-is, after all has been said and done, the battle of life
-itself.
-
-"And now, my children," the mother said at last
-when the evening was far spent, "we'd better go to
-our rest, for we'll need to be up early in the
-morning. But I want to have a little prayer with you
-before we part—we'll just kneel here;" and she sank
-beside her chair, an arm about either child. It was
-quite dark, for none seemed to wish a light—they
-knew it could add nothing to the mother's vision—and
-in simple, earnest words, sometimes choking
-with the emotion she could not control, she
-committed her treasures to her God. "Oh, keep his
-youthful feet, our Father," the trustful voice
-implored, "and never let them wander from the path;
-help him in his studies and strengthen him in his
-soul—and keep us here at home in Thy blessed care,
-and let us all meet again. For Jesus' sake."
-
-The light—that light that they enjoy who need
-no candle's glow—was about them as they arose,
-the mother's hand in Jessie's as they turned away.
-Harvey sought the shelter of the room that was so
-soon to be his no more. He closed the door as he
-entered, falling on his knees beside the bed to echo
-his mother's prayer. Then he hurriedly undressed
-and was soon fast asleep.
-
-It was hours after, the silent night hurrying towards
-the dawn, when he suddenly awoke, somewhat
-startled. For he felt a hand upon his brow, and the
-clothes were tight about him. Looking up, he dimly
-discerned his mother's face; white-robed, she was
-bending over him.
-
-"Don't be frightened, Harvey; go to sleep, dear—it's
-only me. I wanted to tuck you in once more,
-like I used to do when you were little. Oh, Harvey,"
-and a half cry escaped her as she bent down and
-put her arms about him, "I don't know how to give
-you up—but go to sleep, dear, go to sleep."
-
-But Harvey was now wide awake, clinging to his
-mother. "Don't go," he said, "stay with me a
-little."
-
-There was a long silence. At last Harvey spoke:
-
-"What are you thinking about, mother?"
-
-The woman drew her shawl tighter about her
-shoulders and settled herself on the bed. "I think
-I'll tell you, Harvey," she said in a whisper; "it
-seems easier to tell you in the dark—and when
-Jessie's asleep."
-
-"What is it?" he asked eagerly. "Is it anything
-that's hard to say?"
-
-"Yes, my son, it's hard to tell—but I think I
-ought to tell it. Are you wide awake, Harvey?"
-
-"Yes, mother. What is it?" he asked again.
-
-"Do you remember, Harvey, the night you went
-to join the church?—and how I walked with you
-as far as the door?—and we went into the cemetery
-together? Don't you remember, Harvey?"
-
-"Yes, mother, of course I do. But why?"
-
-"Can you remember how, when we were standing
-at the baby's grave, you asked me why your father
-never joined the church, and I said he didn't think
-he was good enough—and you asked me why, and I
-said I'd tell you some time. Do you remember that,
-my son?"
-
-"Yes," Harvey answered slowly, his mind working fast.
-
-"Well, I'm going to tell you now. Your father
-was so good to me, Harvey—at least, nearly always.
-But he used"—she buried her face in the pillow—"this
-is what I'm going to tell you, Harvey; he used—he
-used to drink sometimes."
-
-The form beside her lay still as death. "Sometimes
-he used to—we were so happy, till that began.
-And oh, Harvey, nobody can ever know what a
-dreadful struggle it is, till they've seen it as I saw it.
-For he loved you, my son, he loved you and Jessie
-like his own soul—and it was the company he got
-into—and some discouragements—and things like that,
-that were to blame for it. But the struggle was
-terrible, Harvey—like fighting with one of those
-dreadful snakes that winds itself about you. And I could
-do so little to help him."
-
-She could feel his breath coming fast, his lips
-almost against her cheek. A little tremor preceded
-his question. "Was he—was father all right when
-he died?"
-
-It was well he could not see the tell-tale lips, nor
-catch the quiver that wrung the suffering face. "Oh,
-Harvey," she began tremblingly, "I asked you never
-to speak of that—it hurts me so. And I wanted to
-tell you," she hurried evasively on, "that his own
-father had the same failing before him. And I'm so
-frightened, Harvey, so frightened—about you—you
-know it often descends from father to son. And
-when I think of you all alone in the big city—oh,
-Harvey, I want you to——" and the rest was
-smothered in sobs as the sorrow-riven bosom rose and
-fell, the tears streaming from the sightless eyes.
-
-Both of Harvey's arms were tight about his mother,
-his broken voice whispering his vow with passionate
-affection.
-
-"Never, mother, never; I promise," he murmured.
-"Oh, my mother, you've had so much of sorrow—if
-you want me, I won't go away at all. I'll stay and
-take care of you and Jessie, if you want me, mother,"
-the strong arms clinging tighter. But she hushed
-the suggestion with a word, gently withdrawing
-herself and kissing him good-night again.
-
-"Go to sleep, my son," she said gently; "you've
-got a long journey before you," and he knew the
-significance of the words; "God has given me far more
-of joy than sorrow," as she felt her way to the door
-and onwards to her room.
-
-Long he lay awake, engulfed in a very tumult of
-thoughts and memories; finally he fell into a
-restless slumber. The day was dimly breaking when
-he suddenly awoke, thinking he heard a noise. Stealing
-from his bed, he crept across the room, peering
-towards his mother's. He could see her in the
-uncertain light; she was bending over his trunk, the
-object of her solicitude for many a previous day, and
-her hands were evidently groping for something
-within. Soon they reappeared, and he could see a
-Bible in them, new and beautiful. She had a pen in
-one hand, and for a moment she felt about the
-adjoining table for the ink-well she knew was there.
-Finding it, the poor ill-guided pen sought the fly-leaf
-of the book she held; it took long, but it was love's
-labour and was done with care. She waited till the
-ink was dry, then closed the volume, kissed it with
-longing tenderness and replaced it in the trunk.
-Rising, she made her way to a chest of drawers, opened
-one or two before her hands fell on what she wanted,
-and then produced a little box carefully wrapped in
-oilcloth. Some little word she scrawled upon it, and
-the unpretentious parcel—only some simple luxury
-that a mother's love had provided against sterner
-days—was deposited at the very bottom of the trunk.
-She closed the lid and kneeled reverently beside the
-now waiting token of departure; Harvey crept back
-to his bed again, his sight well-nigh as dim as hers.
-When the little family gathered the next morning
-at the breakfast-table the mother's face bore a look
-of deep content, as if some burden had been taken
-from her mind. And the valiant display of cheerfulness
-on the part of all three was quite successful, each
-marvelling at the sprightliness of the other two.
-They were just in the middle of the meal when the
-tinkling bell called Jessie to the shop. A moment
-later she returned, bearing a resplendent cluster of
-roses. "They're for you, Harvey," she said, "and I
-think it's a great shame—boys never care anything
-for flowers. They ought to be for me." But she
-did not hand them to her brother, nor did he seem to
-expect them. For she walked straight to the mother's
-chair, holding them before her; and the patient face
-sank among them, drinking deep of their rich fragrance.
-
-"Who sent them, Jessie?" her brother asked with
-vigorous brevity.
-
-"I don't know—the boy wouldn't tell. He said
-'a party' gave him ten cents to hand them in—and
-the party didn't want the name given. I hate that
-'party' business; you can't tell whether it's a man
-or a woman. I guess it wasn't a man, though—look
-at the ribbon."
-
-One would have said that Harvey thought so too,
-judging by the light on his face. "I'll take the
-ribbon," he said, "and just one rose—you and
-mother can have the rest."
-
-"Then you're sure it wasn't a man sent them?"
-returned the knowing Jessie.
-
-"No, I'm not—what makes you say that?"
-
-"Well—what are you taking the ribbon for, if
-you're not?"
-
-"Because—because, well, because it's useful, for
-one thing; I can tie my lunch up in it, or a book or
-two—anything like that," Harvey replied, smiling at
-his adroit defense. "Who's this—why, if it's not
-Mr. Nickle and Mr. Borland!" rising as he spoke to
-greet the most welcome guests.
-
-"Ye'll hae to pardon us, Mrs. Simmons," Geordie's
-cheery voice was the first to say; "David here brocht
-me richt through the shop, richt ben the hoose, wi'oot
-rappin'. We wantit to say good-bye till the
-laddie—only he's mair a man nor a laddie noo."
-
-"It was Mr. Nickle that dragged me in by the
-scuff o' the neck," interjected Mr. Borland, nodding
-to all the company at once. "When he smelt the
-porridge, you couldn't see him for dust.
-Hello! where'd you get the roses?—look awful like the
-vintage out at our place. Don't rise, Mrs. Simmons;
-we just dropped in to tell Harvey tra-la-la."
-
-"I'm glad to find ye're at the porridge, laddie,"
-Geordie said genially, as he took the chair Jessie had
-handed him. "The porridge laddies aye leads their
-class at the college, they tell me—dinna let them
-gie ye ony o' yon ither trash they're fixin' up these
-days to dae instead o' porridge; there's naethin' like
-the guid auld oatmeal."
-
-"You Scotch folks give me a pain," broke in
-David; "how any one can eat the stuff, I can't make
-out. The fact is, I don't believe Scotchmen like it
-themselves—only it's cheap, an' it fills up the hired
-men so they can't eat anythin' else. Unless it's
-because their ancestors ate it," he continued
-thoughtfully. "I'll bet my boots there's Scotchmen in
-Glenallen that's eatin' porridge to-day jest because
-their grandfathers ate it; an' they'll put it down if it
-kills 'em—an' their kids'll eat it too or else they'll
-know the reason why. It'd be just the same if it was
-bran—they'd have to walk the plank. But there
-ain't no horse blood in me, thank goodness," he
-concluded fervently.
-
-"Jealousy's an awfu' sair disease," retorted Geordie,
-smiling pitifully at the alien; "but we canna a' be
-Scotch."
-
-"I'm so glad you came in," Harvey began, turning
-to his visitors as the laughter subsided; "we
-were just speaking of your kindness last night—and
-I'm glad to have a chance to thank you again just
-before I go away."
-
-"Stap it," Geordie interrupted sternly. "That's
-plenty o' that kind o' thing—I'll gang oot if there's
-ony mair, mind ye," he declared vehemently, for there
-are few forms of pain more intolerable to natures
-such as his.
-
-"You'll have to be careful, Harvey," cautioned
-Mr. Borland; "he's one o' the kind that don't want
-their left hand to know the stunt their right hand's
-doin'. Very few Scotchmen likes the left hand to
-get next to what the right one's at—it wouldn't
-know much, poor thing, in the most o' cases," he
-added pitifully—"but our friend here's a rare kind
-of a Scotchman. By George, them's terrible fine
-roses," he digressed, taking a whiff of equine proportions.
-
-"I canna gang till the station wi' ye, Harvey—David's
-gaein'," said Geordie Nickle, taking his staff
-and rising to his feet, "but guid-bye, my laddie, an'
-the blessin' o' yir mither's God be wi' ye," and the
-kindly hand was unconsciously laid on Harvey's
-head. "We're expectin' graun' things o' ye at the
-college. I mind fine the mornin' I left my faither's
-hoose in Hawick; he aye lifted the tune himsel' at
-family worship—an' that mornin', I mind the way
-his voice was quaverin'. These was the words:
-
- | 'Oh, spread Thy coverin' wings around
- | Till all our wanderin's cease,'
-
-an' I dinna ken onythin' better for yirsel' the day.
-Guid-bye, my laddie—an' 'a stoot heart tae a steep
-brae', ye ken."
-
-As Harvey returned from seeing the old man to
-the door, Jessie beckoned him aside into his room,
-not yet set to rights after his fitful slumbers of the
-night before.
-
-"Harvey," she began in very serious tones, "I
-only want to say a word; it's to give a promise—and
-to get one. And I want you to promise me
-faithfully, Harvey."
-
-"What is it, sister?" he asked, his gaze resting
-fondly on the girlish face.
-
-"Well, it's just this. You see this room?" Harvey
-nodded. "And this bed?—you know I'm going to
-have your room after you're gone. Well, it's about
-mother—I'm going to pray for her here every night;
-right here," touching the side of the bed as she spoke.
-"Dr. Fletcher said it would be sure to help—I mean
-for her sight to come back again; I asked him once
-at Sunday-school."
-
-"The doctor in the city told me that, too," broke
-in her brother.
-
-"Dr. Fletcher knows better'n him," the other
-declared firmly—"he said God made lots o' people see
-because other people prayed. An' I want you to
-always ask the same thing—at the same time,
-Harvey, at the very same time; an' when I'm asking
-here, I'll know you're doing the very same wherever
-you are. You'll promise me, won't you, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey's heart was full; and the unsteadiness that
-marked his words was not from any lack of sympathy
-and purpose. "What time, Jessie?" he asked in a
-moment. "Would eight o'clock be a good time?"
-
-"I don't think so," the girl said after pondering a
-moment. "You see, I'll often be in bed at eight—I'm
-going to work very hard, you know. I think
-half-past seven would be better."
-
-Thus was the solemn tryst arranged, and Harvey
-bade his sister good-bye before he passed without
-for the last farewell to his mother.
-
-No tears, no outward sign, marked the emotion of
-the soulful moment, and soon Harvey and Mr. Borland
-had started for the station. Once, and only once,
-did the youth look behind; and he saw his mother's
-tender face, unseeing, but still turned in wistful
-yearning towards her departing son. Jessie was clinging
-to her skirts, her face hidden—but the mother's
-was bright in its strength and hopefulness, and the
-image sank into his heart, never to be effaced.
-
-It was evident, from the long silence he preserved,
-that David was reflecting upon things in general.
-Harvey was coming to understand him pretty well,
-and knew that the product would be forthcoming
-shortly. Nor was he disappointed.
-
-"They're great on givin' advice, ain't they?"
-
-"Who?" enquired Harvey, smiling in advance.
-
-"Them Scotch folks—they'd like awful well to be
-omnipotent, wouldn't they? It's pretty nigh the
-only thing they think they lack. It's great fun to
-hear a Scotchman layin' down the law; they don't
-see no use in havin' ten commandments unless they're
-kept—by other people."
-
-"You're not referring to Mr. Nickle, are you?"
-ventured Harvey.
-
-"Oh, no! bless my soul. Geordie's all wool and
-sixteen ounces to the pound," responded Mr. Borland,
-prodigal of his metaphors. "That's what set me
-thinkin' of Scotchmen in general, 'cause they're so
-different from Geordie. That was an elegant
-programme he fired at you there; what's this it was,
-again?—oh, yes, 'when it's stiff climbin', keep your
-powder dry'—somethin' like that, wasn't it?"
-
-"He gave it the Scotch," answered Harvey, "'a
-stoot heart tae a steep brae,' I think it was."
-
-"That's what I said," affirmed David, "an' it's a
-bully motto. It's mine," he avowed, turning and
-looking gravely at Harvey. "I heard a fellow
-advertisin' a nigger show onct; he was on top of the
-tavern sheds, with a megaphone. 'If you can't
-laugh, don't come,' he was bellerin'—an' I thought it
-was elegant advice. Kind o' stuck to me all these
-years. You take it yourself, boy, an' act on it—you'll
-have lots of hard ploughin' afore you're through."
-
-"It suits me all right," Harvey responded cheerfully;
-"they say laughter's good medicine."
-
-"The very best—every one should have a hogshead
-a day; it washes out your insides, you see. If a man
-can't laugh loud, he ain't a good man, I say. I was
-talkin' about that to Robert McCaig the other
-day—you know him, he's the elder—terrible nice man he
-was, too, till he got religion—an' then he took an
-awful chill. By and by he got to be an elder—an'
-then he froze right to the bottom. Well, he's agin
-laughin'—says it's frivolous, you see. I told him the
-solemnest people was the frivolousest—used the rich
-fool for an illustration; he was terrible solemn, but
-he was a drivellin' *ejut* inside, to my way o' thinkin'.
-Robert up an' told me we don't read of the Apostle
-Paul ever laughin'—thought he had me. What do
-you think I gave him back?"
-
-"Couldn't imagine," said Harvey, quite truthfully.
-
-"'That don't prove nothin',' says I; 'we don't
-ever read of him takin' a bath, or gettin' his hair cut,'
-says I, 'but it was him that said godliness was next
-to cleanliness.' An' Robert got mad about it—that's
-how I knew I had him beat. He said I was irreverent—but
-that ain't no argyment, is it?" appealed
-David seriously.
-
-His companion's opinion, doubtless favourable, was
-hindered of expression by the snort of the approaching
-locomotive, signal for a sprint that was rather
-vigorous for further exchange of views. There was
-barely time for the purchase of a ticket and the
-checking of the trunk, the conductor already standing with
-one eye on the baggage truck and the other on the
-grimy figure that protruded from the engine window.
-
-"I ain't Scotch," David said hurriedly, as he and
-Harvey stood together at the rear platform of the
-train, "but I had a father, for all that, just the same
-as all them Sandys seem to have. An' when I was
-pikin' out to find the trail—it's a long time ago—the
-old man stood just like I'm standin' here with you,
-an' he says to me: 'David,' he says, 'trust in God an'
-do your duty.' An' I believe them's the best runnin'
-orders on the road. The old Sandys can't beat that
-much, can they?"
-
-Harvey had no chance to make reply; for almost
-in the same breath David went on, thrusting an
-envelope into his hand as he spoke: "Here's a letter of
-interduction I want you to present to a fellow in the
-city—he's the teller in the Merchants' Bank, an' you
-might find him helpful," David concluded with a
-hemispheric grin; "hope you'll endorse my
-suggestion," he added, the grin becoming spherical.
-
-Harvey tried to protest as best he could, protest
-and gratitude mingling; but the train was already
-moving out and his communications were chiefly in
-tableau.
-
-"That's all right," David roared above the din;
-"good-bye, my boy. Remember Geordie Nickle's
-motto—an' don't blow out the gas."
-
-
-
-
-
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-
-"Better eat all you can, Madeline; you
-can't never tell when you're goin' to have
-your last square meal these days," and
-David deposited another substantial helping on his
-daughter's plate.
-
-"Why, father, what's the matter? What's making
-you so despondent all of a sudden?" Madeline asked
-in semi-seriousness, following her father's advice the
-while.
-
-"You don't understand your father, Madeline—he's
-always joking, you know," interjected Mrs. Borland.
-"You shouldn't make light of such solemn
-matters, David," she went on, turning to her
-husband, "hunger's nothing to jest about."
-
-"Exactly what I was sayin'," responded David,
-"an' if things goes on like they promise now, you an'
-Madeline'll have to take in washin' to support this
-family—that's the gospel truth."
-
-"I don't believe father's in fun," Madeline
-persisted. "Anything go wrong to-day with business
-matters?" she enquired, looking across the table at
-her father.
-
-That David was in earnest was obvious enough.
-"Everything wrong, appearin'ly," he said, rolling up
-his napkin and returning it to its ring. "The men's
-goin' to strike—seems to me there's a strike every
-other alternate day," he went on. "Doin' business
-nowadays is like a bird tryin' to hatch out eggs when
-they're cuttin' down the tree—some o' them darned
-firebrands from St. Louis have been stirrin' up the
-men; a lot o' lazy man-eaters," he concluded vehemently.
-
-"What do the men want, David?" his wife asked
-innocently.
-
-Mr. Borland looked at her incredulously. "What
-do they want—the same old thing they've been
-wantin' ever since Adam went into the fruit
-business—less work an' more pay. An' they've appointed a
-couple o' fellows—a delegation they call it—to wait
-on the manufacturers privately an' present their
-claims. There's two different fellows to interview
-each man—an' they're comin' here to-night. They
-didn't tell me they was comin'—I jest heard it
-casual."
-
-"To-night!" echoed Mrs. Borland, "where'll they
-sit?"
-
-"Chairs, I reckon," replied her spouse.
-
-"You're so facetious, David. Where'll they sit
-when they're talking to you?—you know what I
-mean."
-
-"Oh, I reckon we'll have it out in the den—there'll
-be lots o' growlin', anyhow. I'm not worryin'
-much about where they sit; it's the stand they
-take that troubles me the most," and David indulged
-a well-earned smile.
-
-"You're very gay about it, father," Madeline
-chimed in, "making merry with the English language."
-
-"There's no use o' bein' gay when everything all
-right, daughter; that's like turnin' on the light when
-it's twelve o'clock noon. But when things is breakin'
-up on you, then's your time to cut up dog a little.
-I'm a terrible believer in sunshine, Madeline—the
-home-made kind, in particular. I always tell the
-croakers that every man should have a sunshine plant
-inside of him—when the outside kind gives out, why,
-let him start his little mill inside, an' then he's
-independent as a pig on ice. An' really, it's kind o'
-natural—there's nothin' so refreshin' as difficulties, in a
-certain sense. Leastways, that's the kind of an
-animal I am—when I'm on the turf, give me a hurdle
-now an' again to make it interestin'."
-
-"Is this a pretty stiff business hurdle you've got to
-get over now?" asked Madeline, as she smiled
-admiringly at the home-bred philosophy.
-
-"Well, it's stiff enough. Of course, I've done pretty
-good in the foundry—ain't in it for my health. But
-it's terrible uncertain; you know the Scriptur' says
-the first shall be last—an' it's often that way in
-business. We're really not makin' hardly any money
-these days; of course, if you tell the men that,
-they—they close one eye," said David, illustrating the
-process as he spoke. "Where are you off to, Madeline?"
-he asked abruptly, for his daughter had passed
-into the hall and was putting on her cloak.
-
-"I'm going for my lesson—I'm taking
-wood-carving, you know. Pretty soon I'll be able to do it
-myself; and then I'm going to make lots of pretty things
-and sell them. My class and I are going to support
-four India famine children," she said proudly.
-
-"Bully for you! You'll do the carvin', an' they'll
-do the eatin'—I suppose that's the idea."
-
-Madeline's merry laughter was still pealing as she
-closed the door behind her. Mrs. Borland turned a
-rather fretful face to her husband.
-
-"She's taken a class in Sunday-school," she said,
-lifting her eyebrows to convey some idea of her
-opinion on the subject. "I did my best to dissuade
-her, but it was no use."
-
-"What in thunder did you want to prevent her
-for?" asked David.
-
-"Oh, well, you understand. They're a very ordinary
-lot, I'm afraid—just the kind of children I've
-always tried to keep her away from. I never heard
-one of their names before."
-
-"I think she's a reg'lar brick to tackle them,"
-returned her husband. "It does me good to see Madeline
-takin' that turn—nearly all the girls her age is
-jest about as much use as a sofa-tidy, with their teas
-an' five-o'clocks an' at-homes, an' all them other
-diseases," David continued scornfully. "It's all right to
-have girls learned——"
-
-"Taught, David," corrected his wife.
-
-"It's the same thing," retorted Mr. Borland. "I'm
-too old for you to learn me them new words,
-mother—it's all right, as I was sayin', to get them
-learned an' taught how to work in china, an' ivory,
-an' wood an' hay an' stubble, as the good book says,
-but it's far better to see them workin' a little in
-human bein's. It must be terrible interestin' to try
-your hand on an immortal soul—them kind o' productions
-lasts a while. So don't go an' cool her off,
-mother—you let her stick to them kids without
-names if she wants to."
-
-"But she tells me, David, she tells me some of
-them come to Sunday-school without washing their
-hands or faces."
-
-"Tell her to wear buckskin mits," said Mr. Borland
-gravely.
-
-"It's all very well to laugh, David—but they seem
-to have all sorts of things wrong with them.
-Madeline told me one day how she couldn't get the
-attention of the class because one of them kept winding
-and unwinding a rag on his sore finger for all
-the class to see it; he said a rat bit it in the
-night."
-
-"Rough on rats'd soon fix them," said David
-reflectively; "I mind out in the barn one time——"
-
-"But I'm serious, David," remonstrated Mrs. Borland;
-"and there's something else I hardly like to
-tell you. But only last Sunday Madeline was telling
-me—she laughed about it, but I didn't—how she
-asked one of the boys why he wasn't there the
-Sunday before, and he said: 'Please, ma'am, I had the
-shingles.'"
-
-"Shingles ain't catchin'," declared David, as he
-gasped for breath. "Ha, ha, ha!" he roared, "that's
-the richest I've heard since the nigger show. Ha,
-ha! that's a good one—that's the kind of a class I'd like
-to have. None o' your silk-sewed kids for me, with
-their white chiffon an' pink bows! It seems a sin
-for them teachers to have so much fun on Sundays,
-don't it?" and David extricated his shank from
-beneath the table, venting his mirth upon it with many
-a resounding slap.
-
-Mrs. Borland sighed discouragedly. "Well," she
-said at length, "I suppose there are greater troubles in
-life than that. In fact, I was just thinking of one of
-them when you were speaking about where you'd
-entertain the men when they come to-night."
-
-"I'm afeard what I'll say won't entertain them a
-terrible lot," said David, passing his cup for further
-stimulus as he thought of the ordeal.
-
-"Well, about where you'll talk to them, then,"
-amended Mrs. Borland. "My trouble's something
-the same. Only it's about the servants; at least it's
-about Letitia—she's the new one. It seems she
-belongs to a kind of an Adventist church, and she told
-me this morning that the Rev. Mr. Gurkle, the
-minister, is coming up to call on her some afternoon this
-week. And she asked where would she receive him!
-Receive him, mind you, David—she's going to
-*receive*! And she asked me where—asked me where
-she'd receive him."
-
-"Well, that was natural enough. What did you
-tell her?" David asked, marvelling at the agitation
-of which the feminine mind is capable.
-
-"Why, I told her where else would she receive
-him except in the kitchen—you don't suppose my
-maids are going to entertain their company in the
-parlour, do you, David?"
-
-Mr. Borland turned his face reflectively towards
-the wall, gazing at the lurid painting of a three-year-old
-who had been the pride of last year's fair.
-Finally he spoke: "Yes, Martha, I reckon she will. I
-ain't much of an interfere!—but there ain't agoin' to
-to be no minister of the Gospel set down in the
-kitchen in this house. Black clothes is too easy
-stained. Besides, it ain't the way I was raised."
-
-"But, David, surely you don't——"
-
-"Yes, I do—that's jest exactly what I do. I know
-this Gurkle man—dropped into his church one night
-when some revival meetin's was goin' on. He's a
-little sawed-off fellow, with a wig—an' his cuffs has
-teeth like a bucksaw—an' he wears a white tie that
-looks like a horse's hames. An' he has an Adam's
-apple like a door-knocker; it kept goin' an' comin'
-that night, for there was a terrible lot of feelin' in the
-meetin'. An' Mr. Gurkle was a cryin' part of the
-time, an' he's that cross-eyed that the tears run over
-the bridge of his nose, both different ways. But I
-believe he's a good little man—an there ain't goin' to
-be no minister asquintin' round the kitchen in this
-house. He's goin' to the parlour, mother. The
-kitchen's all right for courtin'—come in there myself
-the other night when Mary had her steady company;
-there was three chairs—an' two of 'em was empty.
-That's all right for courtin'—it don't need no
-conveniences, nor no light, nor nothin'. Two young
-folks an' a little human natur's all you need for that.
-But prayin' an' sayin' catechism's hard enough at the
-best; so I reckon they'll have to do it in the parlour,
-mother," and Mr. Borland rose from his chair and
-moved slowly towards the window, patting his wife
-playfully on the shoulder as he passed.
-
-"By George, here they are," he suddenly
-exclaimed; "I believe that's them comin' now."
-
-"Who?" asked his consort, not with much zest of
-tone. She was still ruminating on her maid's
-religious advantages.
-
-"It's the delegation—it's them two fellows that's
-goin' to present the claims of the union. They're
-turnin' in at the carriage gate, sure's you're livin'."
-
-"I'm going up-stairs," announced Mrs. Borland.
-"I've got to fill out some invitations for an at-home
-next week—you don't mind my leaving, David?"
-
-"No, no, mother, certainly not. Far better for
-you not to be around. You see, certain kinds o'
-labour agitators is always complainin' that the
-manufacturers jest lives among beautiful things; an' you're
-the principal one in this house, mother; so I reckon
-you better slope," and David's hand was very gentle
-as it went out to touch the frosting locks. Mrs. Borland
-smiled indifferently at the compliment, secretly
-hugging it the while. Every true woman does likewise;
-the proffered pearl is carelessly glanced at and
-permitted to fall to the ground—then she swiftly
-covers it with one nimble foot, and solitary hours yet
-to come are enriched by communion with its radiance.
-
-
-
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-His wife was hardly half-way up the stairs
-before David was in the height of perfervid
-activity. "I'll have an at-home myself,"
-he muttered under his breath; "I'll have a male
-at-home," as he rang the bell.
-
-"Yes, Mr. Borland," said the maid, parishioner to
-the Rev. Mr. Gurkle, as she appeared in answer.
-
-"Take all them dishes away," he instructed breathlessly;
-"all the eatin' stuff, I mean," waving his hand
-over the suggestive ruins. "Is there any salt
-herrin's in the house?"
-
-"Yes, sir, there's always herrin's on Friday; we
-keep 'em for Thomas—Thomas is a Roman," she
-said solemnly, an expression on her face that showed
-she was thinking of the judgment day.
-
-David grinned. "I'll bet the Pope couldn't tell
-one from a mutton chop to save his life," he said;
-"but anyhow, put three herrin's on the table—an' a
-handful o' soda crackers—an' some prunes," he
-directed quickly, "an' make some green tea—make it
-strong enough to float a man-o'-war. By George,
-there's the bell—when everything fixed, you come in
-to the sittin'-room an' tell me supper's ready—supper,
-mind, Letitia."
-
-Then he hurried through the hall to the door,
-flinging it wide open.
-
-"Why, if this ain't you, Mr. Hunter," he cried
-delightedly, "an' I'm blamed if this ain't Mr. Glady,"
-giving a hand to each. "Come away in. Come
-on in to the sittin'-room—parlours always makes me
-think it's Sunday."
-
-The men followed in a kind of dream. Mr. Hunter's
-embarrassment took a delirious form, the poor
-man spending several minutes in a vain attempt to
-hang his hat on the antlers of a monster head about
-three feet beyond his utmost reach. Finally it fell
-into a bowl of goldfish that stood beneath the
-antlers; great was the agitation among the finny
-inmates, but it was nothing as compared to Mr. Hunter's.
-
-"That's all right," David sang out cheerily;
-"reckon they thought it was an eclipse o' the sun,"
-he suggested. "Fling your lid on the floor—I hate
-style when you have visitors," whereupon Mr. Hunter,
-fearful of further accident, bended almost to his
-knees upon the floor and deposited the dripping
-article carefully beneath the sofa. Mr. Glady, more
-self-possessed, resorted to his pocket-handkerchief,
-his hat still safe upon his head. Hiding his face in
-the copious calico, he blew a blast so loud and clear,
-that the little fishes, mistaking it for Gabriel's trump,
-rose with cue accord to the surface—and David's
-favourite collie answered loudly from the kitchen.
-Compelled by a sense of propriety to reappear from
-the bandana, Mr. Glady began hurriedly to sit
-down and was about to sink upon the glass top of a
-case of many-coloured eggs, Madeline's especial
-pride, when David flew between.
-
-"Don't," he cried appealingly, "them's fowl's
-eggs—an' anyhow, this ain't the clockin' season,"
-whereupon Mr. Glady leaped so far forward again
-that he collided with a small replica of the Venus de
-Milo on a mahogany stand, the goddess and the
-mahogany both oscillating a little with the impact.
-
-Mr. Glady stared at the delicate creation, then cast
-quick glances about the floor. "Did I break off
-those arms?" he asked excitedly, pale as death.
-
-"Oh bless you, no—she was winged when she was
-born," said David, trying to breathe naturally, and
-imploring the men to be seated, whereat they slowly
-descended into chairs, as storm-bruised vessels creep
-into their berths.
-
-When both were safely lodged a deep silence fell.
-David looked expectantly from one to the other and
-each of the visitors looked appealingly towards his
-mate. Finally Mr. Glady brought his lips apart with
-a smack: "We come—we come to see you, Mr. Borland,
-because you're an employer of labour and——"
-
-"By George, I'm glad to hear that," David chimed
-in gleefully; "that's elegant—there'd be less jawin'
-between labour an' capital if there was more visitin'
-back an' furrit like this. I can't tell you how tickled
-I am to see you both. I don't have many visitors,"
-he went on rather mournfully, "that is, in a social
-way. A good many drops out to see me with
-subscription lists—but they never bring their knittin',"
-David added with a melancholy smile. "Most o' my
-evenin's is very lonely. I've seen me wearyin' so
-bad that I asked the missus to play on the pianner—an'
-one night I shaved three times, to pass the time."
-
-"Please, Mr. Borland, supper's on the table," said
-a small voice at the door.
-
-David leaped to his feet. "Come on, Mr. Hunter—come
-away, Mr. Glady, an' we'll get outside o'
-somethin'," taking an arm of each and turning
-towards the door.
-
-The men faintly protested, pleading a similar previous
-operation; but David overbore them with sweeping
-cordiality. "Let's go through the motions anyhow,"
-he said. "I'm an awful delicate eater myself; the
-bite I eat, you could put in—in a hogshead," turning
-an amiable grin on his guests. "Here, you sit there,
-Mr. Hunter—an' I guess that's your stall, Mr. Glady;
-I'm sorry my missus can't come—she's workin'. An'
-my daughter's away somewhere workin' at wood—turnin'
-an honest penny. Will you ask a blessin',
-Mr. Hunter?"
-
-Mr. Hunter stared pitifully at his host. "Tom
-there'll ask it," he said, his lips very dry; "he used to
-go to singin'-school in the church."
-
-Mr. Glady's head was bowed waiting. "Mr. Hunter'll
-do it himself," he said, without moving a muscle;
-"his wife's mother's a class-leader in the Methodists."
-
-Whereupon the piously connected man, escape
-impossible now, began to emit a low subterranean
-rumble, like the initial utterances of a bottle full of
-water when it is turned upside down. But it was
-music to the ear of Mr. Glady, listening in rigid
-reverence.
-
-"What church do you go to, Mr. Glady?" David
-asked as he poured out a cup of tea, its vigour
-obvious. "Both sugar and cream, eh—Letitia, have
-we any sugar round the house?"
-
-"There's a barrel an' a half," the servant responded
-promptly.
-
-"Oh, yes, I see—fetch the half; we live awful
-plain, Mr. Glady. Don't go to no church, did you
-say? Terrible mistake—why don't you?"
-
-"Well," his guest responded slowly, "I look at
-it this way: if a fellow works all week—like us toilers
-does—he wants to rest on Sunday. That's our rest day."
-
-"Terrible mistake," repeated David; "two
-spoonfuls?—it's the workin' men that needs church the
-most. I was readin' in a book the other day—it was
-either the 'Home Physician' or the dictionary, I
-forget which—how the Almighty trains the larks in
-England to scoot up in the air an' sing right over
-the heads o' the toilers, as you call 'em—the fellows
-workin' in the fields. You see, the Almighty knows
-they're the kind o' people needs it most—an' they
-hear more of it than lords an' ladies does. An' it's
-them kind o' folks everywhere that needs entertainment
-the most; an' I don't think there's anythin'
-entertains you like a church, the way it gets at the
-muscles you don't use every day. If you go to sleep,
-that rests you; an' if you keep awake, it ventilates
-you—so you gain either way. Oh, yes, every one
-should go to some church," he concluded seriously.
-
-"That's all right for rich manufacturers," broke
-in Mr. Hunter; "it's easy to enjoy a sermon when
-you're thinkin' of the five-course dinner you'll get
-when it's over. But when you've nothin' afore your
-eyes only a dish of liver—an' mebbe scorched—a
-sermon don't go quite so good."
-
-"That's jest where I'm glad to have a chance to
-learn you somethin'," David returned with quite
-unwonted eagerness. It was evident he had struck a
-vein. "There ain't near so much difference as you
-fellows think. Do have some more prunes,
-Mr. Glady—they don't take up no room at all. As far
-as eatin' is concerned, anyway, there's terrible little
-difference. It's a caution how the Almighty's evened
-things up after all—that's a favourite idea o' mine,"
-he went on quite earnestly, "the way He gives a
-square deal all round. In the long run, that is; you
-jest watch an' see if it ain't so. I ain't terrible
-religious, an' I ain't related to no class-leaders, but there's
-a hymn I'm mighty fond of—I'd give it out twicet a
-Sunday if I was a preacher—it has a line about 'My
-web o' time He wove'; an' I believe," David went
-on, his face quite aglow, "it's the grandest truth
-there is. An' I believe He puts in the dark bits
-where everybody thinks it's all shinin', an' the shinin'
-bits where everybody thinks it's all dark—an' that's
-the way it goes, you see."
-
-"That's all very fine," rejoined Mr. Glady, a little
-timid about what he wished to say, yet resolved to
-get it out; "that's all very fine in theory—but a
-fellow only needs to look around to see it makes quite
-a bit o' difference just the same," he affirmed, casting
-an appraising glance around the richly furnished
-room. "Money makes the mare go, all right."
-
-"Mebbe it does," said David, a far-off look in his
-eyes. "I wisht you'd both have some more crackers
-an' prunes; mebbe it does, but it don't make her go
-very far in—in where your feelin's is, I mean. There's
-far more important things than for the mare to get a
-gait on. Look at that Standard-oil fellow, out there
-in Cleveland, that's got more millions than he has
-hairs. Well, money made the mare go—but if it'd
-make the hair stay, I reckon he'd like it better.
-They say there ain't a hair between his head an'
-heaven. He could drop a million apiece on his
-friends, an' then have millions left; but they say he's
-clean forgot how to chaw—if he takes anythin'
-stronger'n Nestle's food it acts on him like dynamite,
-an' then he boosts up the price o' oil—he does it
-kind of unconscious like—when he's writhin'. I
-wouldn't board with him for a month if he gave me
-the run of his vault. But there's the fellow that
-drives his horses; he sets down to his breakfast at
-six o'clock—with his hair every way for Sunday—an'
-he eats with his knife an' drinks out of his saucer.
-An' when all his children thinks he's done, he says:
-'Pass me them cucumber pickles—an' another hunk
-o' lemon pie,'—so you see things is divided up pretty
-even after all. I believe luck comes to lots o' men,
-of course—but *one* of its hands is most gen'rally
-always as empty as a last year's nest—you can't have
-everything," concluded David, looking first at the
-men's plates and then down at the crackers and prunes.
-
-"But one handful's a heap," suggested Mr. Glady,
-lifting the keel of a ruined herring to his lips.
-
-"'Tain't as much as you think for," retorted the
-host. "It don't touch the sore spot at all. If a
-fellow's got a good deal of th' almighty needful, as they
-call it, it may make his surroundin's a little more—a
-little more ornamentorious," he declared, wrestling
-with the word. "But there ain't nothin' more to it
-than that. Take me, if you like; I've got more than
-lots o' fellows—or used to have, anyway. But the
-difference is mostly ornament; a few more things
-like that there statute—or is it a statue?—I can't
-never tell them two apart; that there statute of the
-hamstrung lady you run up agin in the sittin'-room.
-But I never eat only one herrin' at a time, an' I jest
-sleep on one pillow at a time—an' if I have the colic
-I jest cuss an' howl the same as some weary Willie
-that a woman gives one of her own pies to, an' he
-eats all the undercrust. I'm afeard you don't like
-our humble fare," he digressed in a rather plaintive
-voice; "won't you have some more crackers an'
-prunes between you—they'll never get past the
-kitchen, anyhow."
-
-The horny-handed guests, declining the oft-pressed
-hospitality, began about this time to look a little
-uneasily at each other; visions of their original errand
-were troubling them some. Finally Mr. Hunter
-nodded very decidedly to his colleague, whereat
-Mr. Glady again produced his trusty handkerchief, and,
-after he had tooted his disquietude into its
-sympathetic bosom, cleared his throat with a sound that
-suggested the dredging of a harbour, and began:
-
-"Me and Mr. Hunter's got a commission, Mr. Borland.
-We're appointed to—to confer with you
-about, about the interests of the men, so to speak;
-about a raise—that is, about a more fairer distribution
-of the product of our united industry, as it were," he
-went on, serenely quoting without acknowledgment
-from the flowing stanzas of a gifted agitator whose
-mission had been completed but a week before.
-
-"I'm terrible glad you brought that up," David
-responded enthusiastically. "I hated to mention it
-myself; but I've been wonderin' lately about a little
-scheme. D'ye think the men would be willin' to
-kind of enter into a bargain for gettin' a certain per
-cent. of the profits an'——"
-
-"I'd stake my life they would," Mr. Hunter broke
-in fervidly. "Of course, we haven't no authority on
-that point, but I'm sure they'd be willin'—a more
-agreeable lot of men you never seen, Mr. Borland.
-Don't you think so, Tom?" he appealed to the
-approving Glady. The latter was framing an ardent
-endorsement—but David went on:
-
-"An' of course I'd expect them to enjoy the losses
-along with us too—then we'd all have the same
-kind o' feelin's all the time, like what becometh
-brethren. An' we're havin' a lot o' the last kind these
-days. What do you think, Mr. Glady?"
-
-Mr. Glady was sadly at a loss; with a kind of
-muscular spasm he seized his cup and held it out towards
-David; "I think I'll take another cup o' tea," he
-said vacantly.
-
-"Certainly—an' I want you an' Mr. Hunter to talk
-that little scheme over with the men. An' you must
-come back an' tell me what they think—come an'
-have supper with me again, an' I'll try an' have
-somethin' extra, so's we can eat an' drink an' be merry."
-
-Nobody had suggested departure; but already the
-three men were moving out into the hall. "How's
-all the men keepin', Mr. Hunter?—the men in our
-shops, I mean," the genial host enquired.
-
-"All pretty good, sir—all except Jim Shiel, an'
-he's pretty sick. He's been drawin' benefits for a
-month now."
-
-"Oh, that's too bad; but I'm glad you told me.
-I'll look around an' see him soon—your folks all
-well, Mr. Glady?"
-
-"Yes, thank you. But don't call me Mr. Glady,"
-said the friendly delegate; "I'd feel better if you'd
-just call me plain Tom."
-
-"An' my name's Henry," chimed Mr. Hunter,
-"just plain Henry."
-
-"Them's two elegant names," agreed Mr. Borland,
-"an' I think myself they're best among friends.
-Speakin' about first names reminds me of an old
-soldier my grandfather used to know in Massachusetts.
-He fought for Washington, an' he had great yarns to
-tell. One was that one mornin' he assassinated
-thirty-seven British fellows before breakfast; an'
-Washington, he came out an' smiled round on the corpses.
-Of course, he slung old Hollister a word o' praise.
-'I done it for you, General,' says old Hollister.
-'Don't,' says Washington, 'don't call me General—call
-me George,'" and David led the chorus with
-great zest.
-
-"Well, we'll be biddin' you good-evenin'," said
-Mr. Glady, extending his hand.
-
-"Jest wait a minute; I sent word to Thomas to
-hitch up the chestnuts—he'll drive you down. Here
-he is now," as the luxurious carriage rolled to the
-door. Thomas controlled himself with difficulty as
-he watched Mr. Borland handing his petrified guests
-into the handsome equipage. Panic takes different
-forms; Mr. Glady wrapped the lap-robe carefully
-about his neck, while Mr. Hunter shook hands
-solemnly with the coachman.
-
-"I don't use this rig a terrible lot myself," he heard
-David saying; "it's a better fit for the missus. If
-you feel like drivin' round a bit to get the air,
-Thomas'll take good care o' you. Good-night,
-Henry; good-night, Tom," he sung out as the horses'
-hoofs rattled down the avenue.
-
-Then David went slowly back into the house. He
-wandered, smiling reminiscently, into the sitting-room.
-Pausing before the Venus de Milo, he chucked
-the classic chin.
-
-"Well, old lady," he said gravely, "there's more
-ways of chokin' a dog besides chokin' him with
-butter."
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`FRIENDSHIP'S MINISTRY`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XVII
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *FRIENDSHIP'S MINISTRY*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-If any man would learn the glory and beauty of a
-mighty tree we would bid him range the
-untroubled forest where God's masterpieces stand
-in rich profusion. But we are wrong. Not there
-will he learn how precious and how beautiful are the
-stately oak and the spreading beech and the
-whispering pine. But let him dwell a summer season
-through upon some treeless plain or rolling prairie,
-and there will be formed within him a just and
-discriminating sense of the healing ministry committed
-to these mediators between earth and sky.
-
-And men learn friendship best where friends are not.
-Not when surrounded by strong and loving hearts,
-but when alone with thousands of indifferent lives, do
-we learn how truly rich is he who has a friend. To
-find then one who really cares is to confront in
-sudden joy a familiar face amid the waste of wilderness.
-
-Alone among indifferent thousands as he alighted
-from the train, Harvey Simmons turned his steps, the
-streets somewhat more familiar than before, towards
-the house where dwelt the only man he knew in all
-the crowded city. A few enquiries and a half hour's
-vigorous walking brought him within sight of the
-doctor's house; he was so intent on covering the
-remaining distance that two approaching figures had
-almost passed him by when he heard a voice that had
-something familiar about it.
-
-"I'll do the best I can, Wallis," the voice was
-saying, "but I guess we'll have to put the child under
-chloroform."
-
-Harvey turned a quick glance on the speaker. It
-was none other than the doctor himself.
-
-"Dr. Horton—is that you, Dr. Horton?" the youth
-asked timidly.
-
-The older of the two men turned suddenly on his
-heel, the keen gray eyes scrutinizing the figure before
-him. It was but a moment till the same kindly smile
-that Harvey remembered so well broke over his face.
-Both hands were on the young man's shoulder in an
-instant.
-
-"You don't mean to say—I know you, mind—but
-you don't mean to say you're that young fellow from,
-from Glenallen—that brought his mother to me about
-her eyes?"
-
-By this time Harvey had possession of one of the
-hands. "I'm the very same," he said, his face
-beaming with the joy of being recognized.
-
-"How is she?" the doctor asked like a flash.
-
-The light faded a little from Harvey's face. "She
-can't see at all now, sir," he answered soberly.
-"She's quite blind—only she can tell when it's morning."
-
-"Thank the Lord for that," said the other
-fervently; "that's always a gleam of hope." Then
-followed a brief exchange of questions and answers.
-
-"How does your mother take it?" the doctor
-asked finally.
-
-"Oh, she's lovely—she's just as sweet and patient
-as she can be; doesn't think of herself at all."
-
-"Your mother must be a regular brick."
-
-"She's a great Christian," quoth her son. "I
-think that's what keeps her up."
-
-"Shouldn't wonder—it's the best kind of stimulant
-I know of," the doctor answered in a droll sort of
-way, turning and smiling at his companion. "Oh,
-excuse me, Wallis—what's this the name is?" he
-asked Harvey; "I've just forgotten it."
-
-"Simmons, Harvey Simmons," the other answered.
-
-"Of course; it's quite familiar now that I hear it.
-This is Dr. Wallis—and this is Mr. Simmons," he
-said to the other. "Dr. Wallis was just taking me to
-see a patient. Did you want to see me about
-anything in particular, Harvey?—you won't mind my
-calling you that, will you?"
-
-It only needed a glance at the pleased face to see
-how welcome was the familiarity.
-
-"Well, really, I did," Harvey responded frankly.
-Wherewith, briefly and simply, he told his friend the
-purpose which had brought him to the city, outlining
-the academic course he intended to pursue, earnest
-resolve evident in every word. "And I wanted to
-get your advice about a boarding-house," he
-concluded; "you see, I thought you might know some
-nice quiet place that wouldn't—that wouldn't be too
-dear," he said, flushing a little. "I'm quite a stranger
-in the city—but I don't want to go to a regular
-boarding-house if I can help it."
-
-"Well, no," the doctor began, knitting his brows.
-"And I really ought to be able to help you out on
-that. But I tell you—you come along with us; then
-we can talk as we go along. Besides, I'm sure
-Dr. Wallis here will be able to advise you much better
-than I could—he knows every old woman in the city."
-
-His confrère smiled. "It's mostly the submerged
-tenth I know," he answered; "I'm afraid there aren't
-many of my patients you'd care to board with.
-Want a place near the college, I suppose?"
-
-"That's not so essential," said Harvey; "I wouldn't
-mind a walk of a mile or so at all."
-
-"Good idea," said the other; "most students are
-pretty cheerful feeders—want a room to yourself?"
-
-"I'd prefer it—if it wouldn't add too much to the
-expense. I've always got to consider that, you
-know," returned Harvey, smiling bravely towards his
-new-found friend.
-
-"Right again," affirmed the doctor. "Single stalls
-are the thing; everybody sleeps better without
-assistance. Sooner have a few children around?
-Some fellows study better with kids in the house, and
-others again go wild if they hear one howl."
-
-"I believe I'd get along just as well without them,"
-said Harvey, laughing; "you see, I'll need to study
-very hard—and I don't believe they help one much."
-
-"It's like studying in a monkeys' cage," asserted
-Dr. Wallis vigorously; "what I hate about little
-gaffers in a boarding-house is the way they always want
-to look at your watch," he enlarged solemnly, "and
-five times out of six they let it fall. It's fun for them,
-as the old fable says, but it's death to the frogs. And
-of course you want to get into a place where they
-have good cooking; it's pretty hard to do the higher
-mathematics on hash and onions—and lots o' students
-have lost their degrees through bad butter. I've
-known men whose whole professional life was tainted
-by the butter they got at college."
-
-"But I'm not over particular about what I eat,"
-began Harvey; "if the place is warm, and if they
-keep it——"
-
-"That's all right enough," broke in the other, "but
-it makes a difference just the same. You've got the
-same kind of internal mechanism as other fellows,
-and you've got to reckon with it. Well, we'll see
-what we can do. I've got a place or two in mind
-now. I'll tell you about them later—we're almost at
-my patient's house. I say, you may as well come
-in—it'll be a little glimpse of life for you; and we can
-see more about this matter after we come out."
-
-Another hundred yards brought them to their destination,
-a rather squalid looking cottage on a rather
-squalid looking street. Dr. Wallis knocked at the
-door, pushing it open and entering without tarrying
-for response. As Harvey followed with the older
-doctor a child's wailing fell upon his ears, emerging
-from the only other room the little house contained.
-
-"Just wait here," said Dr. Wallis to the other two;
-"the child's in there—I'll be back in a minute."
-
-He disappeared, Harvey and his friend seating
-themselves on a rude bench near the door. Both
-looked around for a minute at the pitiful bareness of
-the room; and the eyes of both settled down upon a
-tawdry doll that lay, forsaken and disconsolate, on the
-floor. Tawdry enough it was, and duly fractured in
-the head; but it redeemed the wretched room with
-the flavour of humanity, and the solitary sunbeam
-that had braved the grimy window played about the
-battered brow, and the vision of some child's wan face
-rose above the hapless bundle.
-
-"He's a jewel," Dr. Horton said in a half whisper,
-"a jewel of the first water."
-
-"Who?" asked Harvey.
-
-For answer, the doctor jerked his head backward
-towards the adjoining room. "He just lives
-among poor people like these—they're all idolaters of
-his. He gives away every cent he makes; when he
-does get a rich patient he makes them shell out for
-the poor ones. I know one of my patients called him
-in once for an emergency—sprained his big toe
-getting out of the bath-tub—and Wallis charged him
-fifty dollars for rubbing it. Then he went out and
-gave the money all away; the patient forgot all about
-his toe after Wallis got through with him, I can tell
-you—the pain went higher up. But I was kind of
-glad—he was the head of a big plumbing firm, and I
-always thought Providence used Wallis as the humble
-instrument to chasten him."
-
-"Just come this way please, Dr. Horton," said a
-voice from the door.
-
-Sitting alone, Harvey listened to the muffled sounds
-within. The crying subsided as the odour of
-chloroform arose; and the voice of weeping was now the
-mother's, not the child's. Finally both grew still and
-a long silence followed. So long did it seem that
-Harvey had moved towards the door, intending to
-walk about till the operation should be over, when
-suddenly both men emerged from the tiny apartment.
-
-"It's all over," said Dr. Horton—"and I think it's
-been successful; I believe the child will see as well
-as ever she did."
-
-Harvey looked as relieved as though he had known
-the parties all his life.
-
-"I say, Horton," broke in the other doctor,
-"what'll you charge for this? Better tell me, and I
-can tell her," nodding towards the room where the
-mother was still bended over the beshadowed child.
-
-"Oh, that's not worrying me," said the specialist,
-carefully replacing an instrument in his case as he
-Spoke. "Nobody looks for money from a neighbourhood
-like this," indicating the unpromising surroundings
-by a glance around. "I'll get my reward
-in heaven."
-
-"A little on account wouldn't do any harm," returned
-the cheery Wallis. "It's out of the question
-to ask a man of your station to pike away down here
-for nothing; I'm going to try anyhow—just wait
-here till I come back," wherewith he turned towards
-the little room, closing the door carefully behind him
-as he entered.
-
-He had hardly got inside before, to Harvey's
-amazement, Dr. Horton dropped his surgical case
-and tiptoed swiftly to the door, stooping down to
-gaze through a keyhole that long years and frequent
-operations had left more than usually spacious.
-Watching intently, Harvey could see the face of his
-friend distorted by an expression partly of mirth and
-partly of indignation. For Dr. Horton could descry
-the woman still bending over the little bed, evidently
-oblivious to the fact that the doctor had returned;
-and Dr. Wallis himself was conducting a hurried
-search through his pockets upper and nether, a
-grimace of satisfaction indicating that he had found at
-last the material he was in quest of.
-
-The spying specialist had barely time to spring
-back to where Harvey was standing, when the other
-reappeared, smiling and jubilant.
-
-"You never can tell, Horton," he began, holding
-out a bill; "you can never tell—there's nothing
-like trying. Here's a five I collected for you, and
-it was given gladly enough. It's not very much
-but——"
-
-"You go to the devil," broke in the specialist,
-trying to look angry; "you think you're infernal
-smart, don't you?—but you haven't got all the brains
-in the world."
-
-"You surprise me, Dr. Horton," the other began
-vigorously, commanding a splendid appearance of
-injured amazement. "You don't mean to insinuate
-that I put part of the fee in my pocket, do you?" he
-demanded, striking a martial attitude, and inwardly
-very proud of the way he had changed the scent.
-
-"Put that rag back in your left-hand vest pocket
-where you got it," growled the senior physician
-as he picked up his hat. "You may work your
-smart-Alec tricks with the poor natives round
-here—but you can't come it on me. Take Simmons
-along and find him some place to lay his head," he
-added, opening the door and leading the way
-outward to the street.
-
-The three walked together for perhaps four or five
-squares, the two physicians still engaged in the
-genial hostilities that Dr. Wallis's financial genius
-had provoked. Suddenly the latter came to a standstill
-at the junction of two streets, his eyes roving
-along a richly shaded avenue to his left.
-
-"I guess you'd better go along home, Horton,"
-he said—"you'll want to post your ledger anyhow,
-after a profitable day like this. And I think I'll just
-take your friend here and go on the still hunt for a
-little. Don't look much like a boarding-house
-street, does it?" he added, as he marked the look of
-surprise on his contemporary's face. "But you never
-can tell—anyhow, I've got a place along here in my
-mind's eye, and we may just as well find out now as
-any other time."
-
-"Wish you luck," the older man flung after them
-as he went his way; "if you get lodgings at any of
-those houses you'll have to sleep with the butler."
-
-"It does look a little unlikely, I'll admit,"
-Dr. Wallis said to Harvey as they started down the
-avenue; "but the whole case is quite unusual. This is
-a woman of over fifty I'm going to see—nobody
-knows exactly—and she's almost the only rich
-patient I've got. She lives a strange, half hermit kind
-of life—goes out almost none—and mighty few
-people ever get in. Except her clergyman, of course—she
-insists on seeing her minister constantly; I think
-he's just a curate, and I've always had the feeling that
-he'd consider death great gain—if it came to her.
-But for a while back she's been talking to me as if
-she wouldn't mind some one in the house, if they
-were congenial. It seems one or two attempts have
-been made to break in at nights—and the butler
-sleeps like a graven image. Just the other day I
-suggested she might take in a nurse, a young lady I
-know, who wants to get a quiet home—but I nearly
-had to run for shelter; she gave her whole sex the
-finest decorating I've heard for years. No women
-for her, thank you."
-
-"Is she a little odd?" Harvey ventured to enquire.
-
-The doctor looked him in the eyes and laughed.
-"Well, rather! Odd, I should say she is. But she's
-just as genuine as she can be. And if you get in
-there you'll be as comfortable as you'd be in Windsor
-Castle—quiet and secluded as a monastery, the very
-place for a student. She's been gathering beautiful
-things for years, all sorts of curios and rarities—and
-she's passionately fond of animals, keeps a regular
-menagerie. And she's great on keeping well;
-pretends to despise all doctors, and has a few formulas
-for every occasion. Deep breathing is her
-specialty—she's a regular fiend on deep breathing. But
-you'll see for yourself," the doctor concluded, as they
-turned in at an open gate and began to mount the
-stone steps that led to a rather imposing-looking
-door.
-
-Spacious and inviting, if somewhat neglected
-looking, were the old-fashioned grounds about the
-old-fashioned house. Great spreading trees stood here
-and there, perhaps thirty or forty in all, some in the
-sombre dishabille of autumn, some in unchanging
-robes of green. And two summer-houses, one
-smaller than the other, nestling in opposite corners,
-stood deserted and lonely amid the new-fallen carpet
-of dying leaves. A solitary flower-bed, evidently ill
-at ease amid the unfettered life about it, waved its
-few remaining banners, the stamp of death upon
-them, pensively in the evening breeze. There was
-an ancient fountain, too, but its lips were parched and
-dry, and the boyish form that stood in athletic pose
-above it looked weary of the long and fruitless vigil.
-Two brazen dogs stood near the gate, sullen and
-uncaring now, the chill wind awakening memories of
-many a winter's storm, and foretelling, too, another
-winter waiting at the door.
-
-Dr. Wallis gave the brazen door-knob an
-uncommonly vigorous tug. "She likes you to ring
-as if you meant it," he explained to Harvey, the
-distant product of his violence pealing and repealing
-through the house.
-
-"We'll likely have to wait a little while," the
-doctor remarked; "she never lets a servant come to the
-door till she peeks through that upper left-hand
-window herself. Don't look," he added hurriedly; "she
-mightn't let us in if she catches any one looking."
-
-After a few minutes' further waiting, the harsh
-grating of the heavy bolt and the violent turning of
-the reluctant handle were followed by the apparition
-of a head of iron gray, a pair of absolutely emotionless
-eyes fixed upon the visitors in turn. Dr. Wallis
-nodded, the man barely returning his salutation as he
-led the way into a large and solemnly furnished
-apartment on the left. Harvey's principal impression
-was of the height of the ceiling and the multitude of
-mirrors that confronted him on every hand; there
-seemed to be a goodly assemblage in the room, so
-often were its two solitary inmates reproduced.
-
-Harvey and the doctor were still engaged in a
-mental inventory of the room, its paintings, bronzes,
-and what not, all claiming their attention, when the
-solemn head of iron gray reappeared at the door.
-
-"Miss Farringall says she'll see you in her room,"
-said the sphinx, his lips closing with an audible
-smack; whereupon the scanty procession was
-reformed, following the servant as he led the way up a
-winding flight of stairs. The man knocked at the
-door of a small sitting-room, precipitately retiring as
-soon as he had pushed it partly open.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`VOICES OF THE PAST`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XVIII
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *VOICES OF THE PAST*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Harvey followed his companion inside,
-peering eagerly for what awaited them.
-The mistress of the house fitted her surroundings
-well. She was reclining in an ample chair,
-a half-emptied cup of tea on a little table beside her.
-She was evidently much above medium height, spare
-and thin, a rusty dressing-gown folded loosely about
-her. Her hair was quite gray, and quite at liberty,
-not at all ill-becoming to the large, strong features,
-and the well-formed head. The brow was broad and
-high, wrinkled slightly, and furrowed deeply down
-the centre; high cheek-bones, a rather mobile mouth,
-a complexion still unfaded, joined with the bright
-penetrating eyes to make a decidedly interesting
-countenance. The face looked capable of tenderness,
-yet as if tenderness had cost her dear. A pair of
-gold-rimmed glasses sat shimmering on her brow;
-one swift shuffle of the face reduced them to their
-proper sphere.
-
-"Barlow didn't tell me there were two," she said,
-without looking at the doctor. She was looking
-beyond him at the stranger's face. "He's got both
-arms anyhow, thank heaven," she said, looking at
-Harvey. "He nearly always brings people with one
-arm, that want help," she explained to the newcomer,
-motioning towards a chair.
-
-"This is Mr. Simmons, Miss Farringall," the
-doctor began blandly. "I took the liberty——"
-
-"I know him," she interrupted gently, still
-surveying Harvey. "Didn't you hear me talking to him?
-And I know all about the liberty too—I do wish
-Barlow would count people before he shows them up."
-
-"How do you feel to-day, Miss Farringall?"
-enquired the physician.
-
-"Better," replied his patient. "I gave Barlow
-that medicine you sent me—I always feel better after
-Barlow takes it. Is your friend going to be a doctor?"
-she went on in the same breath, inclining her head
-towards Harvey.
-
-"Oh, no, he's going to the university—he's a
-student," the doctor informed her.
-
-"That's quite different—that'll save somebody's
-life. What did you bring him for?" she demanded
-frankly, turning the keen eyes for the first time from
-Harvey's face and fastening them on the doctor's.
-
-"Well, he was with me; he's a friend of Dr. Horton's
-and mine—and I thought I'd just bring him in.
-This is his first day. Besides," and the wily tactician
-paused a moment, "I wanted to ask your advice."
-
-"I'll charge you doctor's rates," said the spinster,
-restoring her spectacles to their former altitude.
-
-"That's cheap enough for anything," retorted the
-other. "And anyhow, I'll take the usual time to
-pay it. But seriously, Miss Farringall, I want your
-counsel on a matter we're both interested in. You
-see, I've promised to help Mr. Simmons get a
-boarding-house if I can, and I thought you might know
-of some suitable place—you've lived so long in the
-city," he explained with an amiable smile.
-
-"That's remarkably true," interrupted the lady as
-she rattled the spoon in the cup beside her—"and
-I've knocked about so much; lived in the streets,
-haven't I?—been a kind of a city missionary, I
-suppose. What kind of a place does your friend
-want?" she enquired with mock seriousness.
-
-"Oh, any nice quiet place," answered the intrepid
-doctor, "with plain honest people that'll make him
-comfortable. He wants quiet—and refinement—more
-than anything else, I should say."
-
-"If I had my things on, I'd just go out now and
-enquire around among the neighbours," the woman
-avowed gravely, trying to control two very rebellious
-corners about her mouth. "Where do you come
-from, sir?" she asked abruptly, turning on the silent
-Harvey.
-
-"From the country, Miss Farringall—from a place
-called Glenallen."
-
-"Parents living?"
-
-"My mother's living, ma'am; she lives alone—except,
-I have a sister."
-
-"What's her name?"
-
-"Jessie."
-
-"Sensible name. Are you a churchman?"
-
-"Yes, Miss Farringall—at least I hope so."
-
-"High?"
-
-"No," answered Harvey, wondering slightly.
-"No, just Presbyterian."
-
-"Oh!" said Miss Farringall, "I see. But you can
-repeat the creed?"
-
-"Oh, yes, we learned that at school."
-
-"And if you were living in a—in a church family,
-you'd be willing to come in to prayers when the
-rector came? You'd be quite willing, I suppose?"
-
-"I'd love to," said Harvey fervently.
-
-"And do you love animals?"
-
-"A good many," Harvey answered cautiously.
-
-"Birds?"
-
-"I love birds," said Harvey.
-
-"Dogs?"
-
-"Better still," replied the interrogated.
-
-"Cats?"
-
-"Sometimes. Of course, Miss Farringall, I won't
-have a great deal of time to devote to pets. I'll
-have to study pretty hard; it's largely through the
-kindness of a couple of friends that I have the
-chance to——"
-
-But his interrogator was already ringing a
-hand-bell with great vigour.
-
-"Barlow," she said, as the butler reappeared,
-"bring Grey here."
-
-"Yes, mum," murmured the mobile servant as he
-disappeared, returning a minute later with a large
-specimen of the feline tribe at his heels. The
-animal was mewing loudly as it came. Barlow turned
-and departed as his four-footed companion bolted in
-at the open door.
-
-Miss Farringall made a slight outward motion with
-her hands and the cat promptly sprang into her lap.
-Then he turned to survey the company, wasting
-only the briefest glance on the doctor's familiar face,
-but subjecting Harvey to the scrutiny that his
-strangerhood seemed to render necessary.
-
-"You may go, Grey," the woman said in an
-almost inaudible voice, whereupon the cat slowly
-descended, standing still a moment to continue its
-examination of the stranger. Gradually it drew closer,
-rubbing its sides at length against Harvey's ankles,
-still scrutinizing the face above. Harvey smiled,
-whereat the creature looked more intently than before.
-
-"Don't speak," whispered Miss Farringall, "I believe
-he's going to——" the prediction lost in a little
-gasp of excitement as the feline suddenly bounded
-into Harvey's lap, thence to his shoulder, its tail
-aloft like a banner, while a gentle purring issued
-forth as it began an affectionate circuit of Harvey's
-head.
-
-Miss Farringall's face was radiant, her spectacles
-now at high mast as a result of much facial contortion.
-"You can stay here if you like, Mr. Simmons, till—till
-I find a place for you," she said, her eyes still
-fixed in admiration on the cat. Dr. Wallis said
-nothing, inwardly blessing the whole feline race.
-
-"You're very kind, ma'am," Harvey began, his
-face crimson with an excitement he could hardly
-explain. "And I'll be good to Grey," he added
-desperately, not knowing what else to say.
-
-"You mustn't feed him, mind," the other broke
-out intensely—"not a mouthful of anything. And
-no thanks, if you please; I never knew Grey to make
-a mistake. Besides, there's something about you
-that reminds me of—of somebody else," she
-concluded, her tone softened into unwonted gentleness.
-
-"Was he a relative, Miss Farringall?" the doctor
-ventured, anxious that the reference should be
-appropriately received.
-
-"Who said he was a he at all?" retorted his friend,
-turning suddenly upon him as she groped aloft for
-the departed spectacles.
-
-"You can have the room over the dining-room,"
-she went on, addressing Harvey again; "it opens on
-the lawn, and you must leave your window open
-summer and winter—wherever you maybe in winter,"
-she corrected; "and breathe deep—breathe deep of
-the fresh air of heaven. Are you a deep breather,
-Mr. Simmons?" she enquired anxiously.
-
-"I've never thought much about it," said Harvey
-frankly; "but I'll try and learn, Miss Farringall,"
-quenching a smile as he looked up at the earnest
-face.
-
-"It's life," she assured him earnestly, "pure life."
-
-"Miss Farringall's right," the doctor added gravely.
-"There's nothing more connected with life than
-breathing. I've often noticed that in my practice."
-
-But the irreverent reflection was wasted on the
-zealous heart of Miss Farringall. "Where are you
-going to stay to-night?" she asked; "it'll soon be
-dark."
-
-Harvey hesitated. "I thought I'd just take him
-home with me," the doctor volunteered; "then he
-could come here to-morrow."
-
-"Where's your trunk?" pursued the hostess.
-
-"It's at the station," said Harvey; "I've got the
-check."
-
-"Barlow'll attend to having it sent up; there's
-really no reason for him going away from here
-to-night. I'm willing—you and Grey are credentials
-enough for me," she added, her face relaxing into
-a more pronounced smile than Harvey had seen there
-before.
-
-Dr. Wallis was already moving towards the door.
-The grave Barlow had it open in advance. "You'll
-let us know in good time when you get another place
-for my friend, Miss Farringall—that is, when he has
-to leave."
-
-"Oh, yes, I'll attend to that," she assured him.
-"Don't let Grey get out, Barlow—it's too cold for
-him. Keep your mouth closed, Barlow—breathe
-through your nose," for the sudden shock of the
-intelligence that the doctor's words implied, the idea
-slowly filtering in upon him that a stranger was to
-pass the night beneath that sacred roof, had thrown
-poor Barlow's mouth as wide open as his ears.
-
-"Miss Farringall'll let you know when you've got
-to leave, Mr. Simmons," said Dr. Wallis as he
-glanced furtively at Harvey, winking violently the
-while. "You'll feel more comfortable, I'm sure," he
-resumed, his features quite composed again as he
-turned towards the mistress of the house, "to have
-a man around at nights—there have been two cases
-of house-breaking on this street lately."
-
-"I know that," she answered with bated breath;
-"I'm often afraid at nights. I thought some one
-was breaking in last night; I was so sure of it that I
-turned on the light and began reading the prayer for
-those in peril on the sea—but it was just Barlow
-snoring. You snore like Niagara Falls, don't you,
-Barlow?"
-
-"Yes, mum," replied the accomplished, without
-moving a muscle.
-
-With a last cheery word to Harvey, and promising
-to return soon, Dr. Wallis withdrew, leaving the
-new-found relation to work itself out as best it could.
-Harvey waited a few minutes amid the mirrors in the
-parlour while his room was being prepared for its
-new occupant; to which he was promptly conducted
-by Miss Farringall herself, Barlow having retired for
-repairs to a very startled system.
-
-"I should think your trunk would be here a little
-after supper," she said as she showed him in, "and
-I'd advise you to change your flannels when it comes.
-Excuse my advice on such matters," she added, a
-delicate little flush stealing to her cheek, "but I'm
-old enough to be your mother—and besides, it's
-getting quite cool outside. I think there's nothing
-so wholesome as warm flannels—warm flannels and
-deep breathing. Sometimes I think people wouldn't
-ever die if they'd only change their flannels when
-the weather changes—and keep on breathing deep,"
-she concluded, drawing a profound breath the while,
-her lips locked like a vice. "Supper'll be ready in
-half an hour."
-
-Then she hurried back to her little sitting-room,
-the kindly bosom rising and falling as she faithfully
-pursued the wondrous treatment. Gaining the room,
-she immediately rang the bell, and a moment later
-the partially recovered butler stood before her. He,
-too, had had a treatment; for which cause he breathed
-as lightly as the demands of nature would permit.
-
-"Hand me that box from my secretary, Barlow—that
-ebony box."
-
-He obeyed; and Miss Farringall held it a moment
-in her hands, then adjusted a tiny key and turned
-the lock. A queer little tremor rippled over her
-lips as the thin fingers groped a moment at the very
-bottom of the box. Those same fingers showed just
-the least unsteadiness as they released the dim gold
-clasp that bound a jet-black frame, which, opening,
-disclosed the portrait of a man about twenty-two or
-twenty-three years of age. She held it musingly in
-front of her a moment. Then she held it out
-towards Barlow, who promptly moved forward like
-some statue out-marching from its niche, his arms
-rigid by his side.
-
-"You've never seen that before, Barlow?"
-
-"No, mum."
-
-"Who do you think it's like, Barlow?"
-
-"I couldn't say, mum."
-
-"Don't you think it resembles that visitor of
-ours—that young man Dr. Wallis brought this
-evening?"
-
-"Yes, mum," Barlow assented, almost before she
-had finished her question.
-
-"Do you think it very much like him, Barlow?"
-
-"It's his livin' image, mum," said the talking
-statue.
-
-"You can go, Barlow."
-
-"Yes, mum," said Barlow, already gone.
-
-The woman sat alone in the fading light, the
-picture still before her. Suddenly she started,
-started as violently, almost, as if the dead face before
-her had broken into speech. Again the bell awoke
-the echoes of the lonely house, and again the servant
-stalked like a shadow to the door.
-
-"Barlow, what did Dr. Wallis say was that young
-man's name?"
-
-"I couldn't say, mum," answered Barlow, with the
-air of one who has been charged with murder. Even
-in the shadow he noticed the whiteness of the lips
-that questioned him.
-
-"Well, find it out then," she exclaimed, her voice
-rising as she half rose in her chair—"find it out, I
-say. What do you suppose you're here for, if it's
-not to know who's in the house?"
-
-"Yes, mum," Barlow responded, his tone now the
-tone of the convicted.
-
-"Never mind that—go and find out the name.
-Tell him we'll need to know when the postman
-brings the letters—tell him anything—go now," as
-the menial vanished in the direction of Harvey's room.
-
-It was but a moment till he was back. "It's
-Simmons, mum—he says it's Simmons."
-
-Miss Farringall was now erect. "What was his
-father's name?—his mother lives alone, he told me.
-Ask him what was his father's name—this minute,
-hear."
-
-Barlow was back in even less time than before.
-"Simmons," he said solemnly; "it seems his father's
-name was Simmons too, mum."
-
-His mistress advanced a step or two towards him;
-the faithful Barlow bowed his head like one ready to
-be offered. "Go back," she said in a low tense tone,
-"go back and ask him what his father's first name
-was. I want to know. And if you blunder this
-time, sir, you'll walk out of my house, mind."
-
-"Yes, mum," agreed the man, lifting his eyes
-devotedly as he spoke, and vanishing into the outer
-gloom.
-
-"Edward, mum," he informed her in a moment,
-"Edward Simmons—and he says what might you
-want to know for, mum."
-
-A wave of indescribable emotion swept over the
-woman's face. She walked slowly to the window,
-gazing blindly out at the encroaching shadows of
-the autumn night. She saw the lurid sky beyond
-the city's utmost fringe, still crimson with the gilding
-of a departed sun, touched with the colour that was
-fading fast; even as she looked, the once radiant
-clouds were turning cold and gray, the ashen hue of
-age displacing the splendour of their transient joy.
-And the withered leaves, contemptuously tossed by
-the rising wind, moaned about the knees of many a
-heartless tree that had once flaunted them so proudly,
-whispering the story of their beauty to both earth
-and sky. But the silent gazer saw little of the
-autumn scene. For the grave and tender eyes were
-fixed on something far beyond it, far behind, nestling
-in the bosom of departed years; and what they saw
-was blighted with no decay of autumn, but stood
-fresh and beautiful in the light of summer. Green
-fields they saw, and tender bud and opening
-blossom everywhere, the very clouds beautiful in
-noble gloom because of the unconquerable sun.
-And that sun was Love—and the face she saw amid
-it all was the face of Edward Simmons.
-
-Her eyes suddenly seemed to withdraw themselves
-from the scene without, turning wistfully upon the
-picture she still held in her hand. Only a moment
-did they linger there before they were turned again
-upon the autumn world without. And lo! The
-blackness of it all, its loneliness, all the pathos of the
-withered summer, seemed now to rise up before the
-woman's creative gaze; the sky, with its mystic
-tragedy as the glow surrendered to the gloom, the
-unbannered trees, the hurrying, homeless leaves, the
-dirge of the mournful wind—all these were deepened
-and darkened by that other vision of summer
-gladness that now was past and gone. For there is no
-mmistrant to sorrow like the sweet face of some dead
-happiness; it is June that gives November all its
-bitterness.
-
-Long musing, she turned at last from the window,
-again summoning the faithful servant.
-
-"Barlow," she said, the tone quite low, "go to the
-vault—look in that lower left-hand drawer and bring
-me a parcel of papers there. They're only newspapers,"
-she added, "all tied together; bring them here."
-
-A few minutes later Barlow handed her the
-parcel. "Shall I light the gas, mum?" he asked,
-turning at the door.
-
-"No, thank you; I don't want it—but you can
-kindle the fire."
-
-Then she sat, the papers and the photograph in
-her lap, till the crackling flame was bright. And
-again the wistful eyes pored over the past as though
-it were an open book. Far clearer now she saw it
-than before. For every leaping tongue of flame
-babbled of other days while the hearth-fire plied its
-ancient subtle industry, calling up long-vanished
-faces as it ever does, rebuilding the ruined past,
-echoing once again the long silent tones of
-love—and the panorama of the bygone years passed in a
-lane of light between the burning eyes and the
-mystic fire, both knowing, both caring, both sorrowing.
-
-It was almost dark when the spare and slender
-form rose from the chair, moving to the secretary in
-the corner of the room. From the lowest compartment
-of it she lifted, very gently, a little bundle of
-letters. Then she picked up the photograph again,
-extracting an old newspaper from the parcel before
-her; a quick glance at its date confirmed what she
-already knew. Then, with the old daguerreotype and
-the old letters and the old faded newspaper in her
-hand, she sank upon a hassock that lay beside the
-fire—the fire too was old, so old and dear—and she
-smiled to herself as she settled down in the old
-girlish way, the lonely blaze greeting her as it
-flung its glow again upon the flushed and quivering
-face, as dear to it as in the gladder days
-of yore. One by one she turned them over—the
-picture and the letters and the paper—the whole
-story of her life was there. The shadows gathered
-deeper and darker as she sat and fondled these
-precious things, the only real treasure of all her
-treasure-laden house—but the fire burned on as
-brightly as in other days, as brightly as if it had
-never faltered through the years.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-It was a new sensation that crept about Harvey
-Simmons' heart that night, such a sensation as can
-come only to the youth who is denied for the first
-time the vision of his mother's face. It seemed
-strange to have said good-night to nobody in the old
-familiar way, to hear no reassuring sound of voices
-indistinctly chatting in the distance, as Jessie's and his
-mother's always could be heard, and to give or hear
-no final word of mirth or message as the lamp went
-out and the comfortable couch received him.
-
-The room appointed to him was replete with all
-that might minister to comfort, even rich and elegant
-in its appointments. How often Harvey had wished
-his own humble home had boasted such a room, not
-for himself but for another; yet, now that he had
-come into possession of all he had so often envied,
-how paltry and insignificant it seemed, how far
-beneath what he had imagined—and how gladly he
-would have exchanged it all for his little room at home,
-if he might have but again been near the dear ones
-from whom he had never been parted a single night
-in all the course of his uneventful life.
-
-His eyes fell upon a little table in the corner,
-generously furnished with materials for writing.
-It was, in consequence, very late before he
-committed himself to sleep. Yet he had only written
-two letters, the first to his mother, a faithful and
-exhaustive narrative of every hour since he had seen her
-last. It was a new experience to him, and he
-wondered a little at the almost mysterious ease with
-which he filled page after page. It was a new-found
-joy, this of writing—and both intellect and emotion
-entered into the task with a zest and instinct that
-surprised himself.
-
-The second letter was begun with much misgiving,
-and after long consideration. For it was to
-Madeline, to whom, in a kind of way he was quite at a
-loss to understand, his thought went out in his
-loneliness—far more, indeed, than it had ever done when
-he lived beside her. Much misgiving about this
-second letter there was, as has been said; and yet he
-felt it could not be unwelcome since its purpose was
-so far from personal—for its main story was of the
-little child and the poor family of whom he had come
-to know through his contact with Dr. Wallis. And
-he knew Madeline would love to help, in some way
-her own delicate judgment would suggest. But
-before he was through his pen had rather run away
-with him; and some of his impressions of the new
-life about him, with a little, too, that treated of life in
-general, had sighed itself in a kind of lonely soliloquy
-through the expanding pages. And he read this
-second letter over twice, correcting it with great care,
-a process the first had been denied.
-
-His trunk had been duly delivered, as Miss Farringall
-had assured him it should be, and it was with
-a kind of reverent tenderness that the lonely stranger
-raised the lid and surveyed all his poor belongings,
-each one lying where it had been placed by the
-loving hands that were now so far away. The care-worn
-face rose again before him as he bended over these
-last tokens of his mother's devoted care; and
-instinctively, with a dumb sense that she would have
-wished it so, he searched first for the sacred book he
-had seen her place there. He soon found it, and
-carrying it to where the light might fall upon it, he
-turned wistfully to the fly-leaf. Still with his eyes
-fixed on it he sat down on the bed beside him, the
-dim mist gathering as the poor misguided handwriting
-looked up at him in all the eloquence of sightless
-love:
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line
-
- "*Dear Harvey*
- *From his loving mother*"
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-was all that was written there. But every character
-was aflame with fondness, and every word was a
-vision, bright with tender beauty, fragrant of the
-unselfish courage that had filled their lowly lives with a
-gladness denied to many a richer home. The very
-waywardness of the writing, the lines aslant and
-broken, enhanced the dauntless love that penned
-them; and Harvey's lips were touched to the mute
-symbols with reverent passion.
-
-Still swimming, his eyes fell again upon the page,
-and he noticed—what he had not seen before—that
-something had been written at the lower corner.
-Isaiah 66:13, it said; and a moment later he
-had found the text. The full heart overflowed
-as he read: "As one whom his mother comforteth
-so will I comfort you." With a stifled sob,
-and still repeating the wonderful words, he sank
-on his knees beside the bed. And as he did so there
-arose before him the vision of other days, long
-departed now, when he had thus knelt for his evening
-prayer; a tranquil face looked down again upon the
-childish form, and he could almost feel the chill of
-little feet seeking cover while he prayed; the warm
-hands held his own, reverently folded together, and
-amid the stillness that wrapped his heart there floated
-out, with a silvery sound like that of an evening bell,
-the tones of the dear voice that had been so quick to
-prompt his childish memory or to recall his
-wandering thoughts. The hurried ending, the impulsive
-uprising, the swift relapse into boyish merriment, the
-plunge into the waiting crib, the good-night kiss, the
-sudden descent of darkness, the salvo of farewells the
-cozy cuddling into the arms of slumber—all these came
-back to him with a preciousness he had never felt before.
-
-His loneliness, prompted by every reminiscence,
-slowly turned to prayer. He tried to thank God for
-all the treasure his soul possessed in the dear ones at
-home, and to ask for strength to be worthy of love
-and sacrifice so great. He promised to be true; a swift
-memory of his mother's fear lest dormant appetite
-should prove his foe mingled with his prayer a moment,
-and was gone. For the whole burden of his pleading
-seemed to revolve again and again about the love-laden
-text that had taken such a hold upon his heart,
-till at last he only repeated it over and over before God:
-"As one whom his mother comforteth so will I
-comfort you." Suddenly he paused; for he felt, though
-he knew not why, that his mother too was kneeling
-by the Mercy Seat—distant far, sundered by weary
-miles, yet he could not dispel the assurance, which
-warmed and caressed his very life, that another kept
-her sacred midnight vigil. And as he thought of
-Jessie's slumbering face, and of the other's, upturned
-in pleading for her son, a deeper peace than he had
-known before crept about him, the loneliness vanished
-like a mist, and but a few minutes passed before he
-slept the sweet sleep of all homeless lads who trust
-the keeping of their mother's God.
-
-
-
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-It was quite in vain that Harvey tried to read.
-For two much-loved faces, one worn and grave,
-the other bright and hopeful, kept coming and
-going between him and his book. Another, too,
-whose setting was a wealth of golden hair.
-
-"You seem in a hurry to get on—guess you're
-going home," broke in a voice from the seat
-immediately opposite his own in the crowded car.
-
-Harvey smiled and laid his book aside. "I'm in a
-hurry all right," he answered, "though I don't know
-that looking at one's watch every few minutes helps
-matters much. But I don't relish the idea of being
-late."
-
-"Student, aren't you?" asked the man, nodding
-towards a pin in evidence on Harvey's coat.
-
-"Yes—I'm just going home for a little visit."
-
-"Been long at college?"
-
-"A couple of years," answered Harvey; "they go
-rather slowly when a fellow's anxious to get through.
-Say, isn't this train going at a tremendous pace?
-What's the matter?" his voice rising as he clutched
-savagely at the side of the seat.
-
-It was too late for his companion to make reply—already
-he was being caught into the current of the storm.
-
-What followed defies description. Harvey's first
-thought was of some irregularity that would last but
-a moment—he could not realize that the worst had
-happened. A shrill voice from another part of the
-car cried out that they were off the rail, but he swiftly
-rejected the suggestion. An instant later he was
-as one struggling for his life. The engine had never
-left the rail and the driver was quite unconscious of the
-situation. Dragged ruthlessly along, the car leaped
-and bounded like a living thing: it seemed, like a
-runaway horse, to be stampeded by its own wild
-plunging as it was flung from side to side, bouncing
-almost clear of the road-bed with every revolution of
-the wheels.
-
-Flung into the corner by the window, Harvey
-braced himself as best he could with hands and feet,
-dimly marvelling at the terrible length of time the
-process seemed to last. He glanced upward at the
-bell-rope, swingly wildly; but he knew any attempt
-to reach it would be disastrous, if not fatal. Still the
-mad thing tore on; shrieks and cries rose above the
-din; parcels and valises were everywhere battering
-about as if flung from catapults; one or two of the
-passengers cried out in plaintive wrath, some as if
-remonstrating with a mettlesome steed, others as if
-appealing for a chance against the sudden violence.
-Harvey remembered, long after, how he had said to
-himself that he was still alive—and uninjured—and
-that all might yet be well, if it would only stop.
-
-Confused and terrified though he was, his senses
-worked with almost preternatural acuteness; he
-remarked the spasmodic eagerness with which men
-clutched at one another, muttering the while like
-contestants in a mighty struggle; the very grotesqueness
-of the thing flashed upon his mind an instant,
-as, the car taking its last desperate bound, he saw
-strong men flung about like feathers in a gale; two
-or three near him, shouting wildly, were tossed to the
-very ceiling of the car, their limbs outflung as when
-athletes jump high in air. Then the coach was
-pitched headlong; the man to whom he had spoken
-but a moment before was hurled through the spacious
-window, and the overturning car sealed his lips
-with eternal silence; two stalwart men fell full on
-Harvey's crouching form—darkness wrapped him
-about as the car ploughed its way down the steep
-embankment.
-
-"This is death," he said involuntarily, and aloud,
-as the dread descent was being accomplished.
-Many things—much that could never be reproduced,
-more that could never be uttered—swam before him
-in the darkness. A sort of reverent curiosity
-possessed his soul, hurrying, as he believed himself to
-be, into the eternal. He was to know now! All of
-which he had so often heard, and thought, and
-conjectured, was about to unfold itself before him. A
-swift sense of the insignificance of all things save
-one—such an estimate as he had never had before—and
-a great conception of the transcendent claim of
-the eternal, swept through his mind. Then
-suddenly—as if emerging from the very wreck of things,
-illumining all the darkness and clothing the storm
-with a mysterious calm, there arose the vision of his
-mother's face. A moment later all was still; blessed
-stillness, and like to the quietness of death. The car
-was motionless.
-
-But only for a moment did the stillness reign.
-Then came the wild surging of human voices, like
-the sound of many waters; appeal, frenzied fear,
-tormenting pain, pitiful enquiry—all blended to make
-it such a discord of human sounds as he had never
-heard before. It froze his soul amid all the agony
-of suspense he himself was bearing. For that human
-load was still upon him, still holding him pinned
-tight in the corner of the now overturned and
-shattered car; how much more might hold him down,
-he could not tell. And with this came his first real
-taste of terror; the thought of imprisonment beneath
-the heavy wreckage—and then the outbreaking
-fire—tore for a moment through his mind.
-
-But already he could feel the forms above his own
-writhing in their effort to rise; one, his thigh
-fractured, gave over with a loud cry of pain. The
-other was trying to lift him as gently as he might.
-Soon both were from above him. The moment that
-followed thrilled with suspense—Harvey almost
-shrank from the attempt to straighten himself up
-lest he might find himself pinned beneath the deadly
-truck. But he tried—and he was free. And he
-could see through the window of the door, upside
-down as it was, the sparkling sunshine, never so
-beautiful before.
-
-With a gasp of joy he bounded towards it—then
-stopped suddenly, checked by the rebuke of what he
-saw about him. For—let it be recorded to the
-praise of human nature and the credit of sorrow's
-ministry—every man who was unhurt seemed
-engaged with those who were. Strong, selfish-looking
-men, utter strangers, men who had sat scowling
-behind their newspapers or frowning because some
-child's boisterousness disturbed them, could now be
-seen bending with tender hands and tenderer words
-above some groaning sufferer, intent only on securing
-the removal of the helpless from the threatened
-wreck.
-
-Not threatened alone, alas! For even as they
-were struggling towards the sweet beguiling light a
-faint puff of smoke floated idly in about them; and
-the first to notice it—not with loud outcry but with
-hushed gasp of terror—was one unhappy man whom
-the most desperate efforts had failed to free from the
-wreckage. But as the car gradually filled with the
-smoke, and as, a little later, a distant crackling could
-be heard, the stifled moan became a cry, and the cry
-at length a shrieking appeal for deliverance from the
-living death that kept ever creeping nearer.
-
-"My God," he cried frantically, "you can't leave
-me here—I'll burn to death," his eyes shining with
-a strange unearthly light; "I'll burn to death," he
-repeated in grim simplicity.
-
-Harvey never left him till the all-conquering flame
-had all but kindled his own garments; half-blind,
-soaking with perspiration, gasping for breath, he at last
-turned his back upon the awful scene and staggered
-away. The waters of death were now surging about
-the man—if the unfitting metaphor may be allowed.
-As he groped his way towards the brow of the
-up-torn declivity, Harvey stumbled on the silent form
-of the man who had sat beside him in the coach—a
-brakeman was hurrying towards it with a sheet.
-Then dense darkness flowed about, and kind
-unconsciousness delivered him.
-
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-"You've made as good progress as any man could
-look for," the doctor said; "don't you think so,
-Mr. Nickle? He's been lucky all through, to my
-mind; two broken ribs, and a twisted elbow, was
-getting off pretty well—considering what he came
-through. Another week will do wonders."
-
-"It's bad eneuch," rejoined the cautious Scotchman;
-"but it micht hae been waur."
-
-"Well, old chap, I guess I'll have to go," the
-doctor said as he began putting on his gloves; "just
-have patience and you'll be all right. What you'll
-feel most will be the result of the shock—don't get
-discouraged if you sag sometimes, and feel as if the
-bottom were falling out of everything. You'll likely
-have queer spells of depression—all that sort of
-thing, you know. 'Twouldn't be a bad idea to take
-a little spirits when you feel one coming on; and
-if a little doesn't help, take a little more," he
-concluded, laughing.
-
-Mrs. Simmons' face was white and drawn; but she
-controlled herself, and no word escaped her lips.
-When the doctor left the room she followed him,
-closing the door behind her. A few minutes later
-he returned:
-
-"Oh, I've just been thinking over that matter,
-Harvey," he began carelessly, "and I believe this
-prescription would be a fully better stimulant,"
-producing pencil and pad and beginning to write.
-
-He remarked how Harvey received the advice—the
-latter's lips were pale, and the doctor could see
-them quivering. "Don't fool with the other at all,"
-he added impressively: "I don't believe it would do
-you a bit of good."
-
-Geordie Nickle lingered after the doctor had taken
-his departure; but he found it quite impossible to
-engage Harvey in conversation. "I hae nae doot a'
-this sair experience'll be for some guid purpose," he
-began, the face of the saintly man suffused with the
-goodness of his heart; "only dinna let it be wasted,
-laddie. A wasted sickness is a sair thing, an' a
-wasted sorrow's waur—but there's naethin' sae sad
-as to look intil the face o' death, wi'oot bein' a
-different man to a' eternity. It's a waesome thing when
-a soul snatches spoils frae death—an' then wastes
-them on life, my laddie," earnestness and affection
-mingling in the eyes that were turned on Harvey's
-chair.
-
-But Harvey's response was disappointing. "If I
-could only sleep a little better, Mr. Nickle. I'm
-really all right except for my nerves. Yes, what you
-say is very true, Mr. Nickle."
-
-After one or two equally fruitless attempts, the
-old man seemed to realize the hopelessness of his
-efforts. "Weel," he said pleasantly, "I maun be
-gaein'—yon's the kirk bell that's ringin'. Why, there's
-David," he cried suddenly, looking out of the window;
-"I'll juist gie ye intil Mr. Borland's care. I
-think yir mither said she's gaein' till the kirk—we'll
-gang thegither," as the kindly patriarch made a brief
-farewell, withdrawing to join Mrs. Simmons and guide
-her to the house of prayer.
-
-"Hello, Harvey! Why, you're lookin' like a
-morning-glory," was David's salutation as he drew
-his chair up beside Harvey's. "I jest thought I'd
-drop in an' look you over a bit when Madeline an'
-her mother was at church. Ought to be there myself,
-I know," he went on, a reproachful smile on his face;
-"but it's such an elegant mornin'—an' besides, I'm
-doin' penance. I remembered it's jest two years ago
-to-day, by the day o' the month, since I traded horses
-with Jim Keyes—an' I thought mebbe I shouldn't
-have took any boot—so I thought I'd jest punish
-myself by stayin' away from the meetin' this mornin'.
-How're you keepin', Harvey?" he concluded earnestly,
-his elbows on his knees as he peered into the
-patient's face.
-
-"I'm not bad," said Harvey—"only a little
-grouchy. Is that really the reason you're not going
-to church this morning, Mr. Borland?" he asked, a
-slight note of impatience in the tone. David might
-have noticed, indeed, that Harvey seemed ill at ease,
-and as if he would as soon have been alone.
-
-David stared at him. "That there accident must
-have bumped all the humoursomeness out o' you," he
-said, grinning. "No, of course it's not—but
-Dr. Fletcher ain't goin' to preach to-day. That's the
-real reason. An' he's got a fellow from Bluevale
-rattlin' round in his place; can't stand him at all.
-He's terrible long—an' the hotter, the longer. They
-say he dives terrible deep; an' mebbe he does—but
-he comes up uncommon dry," and David turned a
-very droll smile on his auditor. "The last time I
-heard him, he preached more'n fifty minutes—passed
-some excellent stoppin'-places, too," David reflected
-amiably; "but the worst of it was when he come to
-conclude—it was like tyin' up one o' them ocean
-liners at the dock, so much backin' up an' goin' furrit
-again, an' semi-demi-quaverin' afore he got plumb
-still. That's the principal reason I'm punishin'
-myself like this," he added gravely. "Say, Harvey,
-what's makin' you so kind o' skeery like?—anythin'
-hurtin' you?"
-
-Harvey cleared his throat nervously. "I say,
-Mr. Borland," he began nervously, "would you do
-something for me?"
-
-David, very serious now, drew his chair closer.
-
-"You bet—if I can. What is it?"
-
-Harvey stood up and walked unsteadily towards
-the table. Then he thrust the little paper the doctor
-had left into a book. "I wonder if you'd go to the
-drug-store for me," he began rather huskily, "and
-get me a little—a little spirits—or something like
-that; spirits would be the best thing, I think—the
-doctor spoke of that. I'm just about all in, Mr. Borland—and
-I think if I were only braced up a little—just
-to tide me over, you know," he stammered, his
-courage failing him a little as David's steady eyes
-gazed into his own.
-
-David looked long in silence. Then he rose, and
-without a word he took Harvey in his arms. Slowly
-they tightened round the trembling form, the old
-man holding the young as though he would shelter
-him till some cruel storm were past. Tighter still he
-held him, one hand patting him gently on the shoulder
-as though he were a little child.
-
-Harvey yielded to the embrace—and understood.
-When at length David partially released him, he
-looked into the face before him. The eyes that met
-his own were swimming, and David's face was aglow
-with the yearning and compassion that only great
-souls can know.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," the shaking voice began, hardly
-above a whisper, "I love you like my own son.
-Don't, Harvey—for God's sake, don't; kill your
-mother some other way," and again he drew the now
-sobbing lad close to his bosom.
-
-A moment later he whispered something in
-Harvey's ear. It was a question—and Harvey
-nodded, his face still hidden.
-
-"I thought so," David murmured. "I thought so—an'
-there's only one way out, my boy, there's only
-one way out. An' it's by fightin'—jest like folks
-fight consumption, only far harder. That ain't
-nothin' to this. Jest by fightin', Harvey—an'
-gettin' some One to help you. All them other
-ways—like pledges, an' promises, an' all that—they're jest
-like irrigatin' a desert with one o' them sprayin'-machines
-for your throat. I ain't much of a Christian,
-I know—but there ain't nothin' any good 'cept what
-Dr. Fletcher calls the grace of God. An' if you think
-it'd help any, from an old fellow like me—I'll—I'll
-try it some, every mornin' an' night; 'twouldn't do
-no harm, anyway," and the protecting arms again
-drew the yielding form into the refuge of his loving
-and believing heart.
-
-Only a few more sentences passed between the
-two; only a few minutes longer did David wait. But
-when he passed by the church on his homeward way
-his head was bowed, and his face was like to the faces
-of those whose lips are moist with the sacramental
-wine.
-
-
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-"And you think you'll go back to-morrow,
-Harvey? Are you sure you feel strong
-enough, my son? Your voice is weak."
-
-Harvey's answer was confident enough. But pale
-he certainly was—and the resolute face showed signs
-of abundant struggle, and a new seriousness sat on the
-well-developed brow. "I think life'll be all different
-to me now, mother," he went on; "a fellow can
-hardly go through what I have, without seeing things
-in a different light. I didn't think so much of it when
-Mr. Nickle said it, but it's been running through my
-mind a lot lately—he said what a terrible thing it is
-for a fellow to snatch spoils from death and then
-waste them on his after life."
-
-"He's a godly man," the mother rejoined musingly.
-"He's been like a light to me in my darkness—often
-I think my heart would have broken if it
-hadn't been for him. When things looked darkest,
-and he'd drop in for a little talk, I always seemed to
-be able to take up the load and go on again. He
-and Mr. Borland have been good angels to us all,"
-and the sightless face was bright with many a
-gladsome memory.
-
-"Mother, when you speak of darkness—and
-loads—do you mean—do you mean about your
-sight?"
-
-His mother reached out, instinctively guided, and
-laid a thin hand on one of Harvey's. "Do I speak
-much about loads, my son, and darkness?" she asked
-in a gentle voice. "For I've always asked for grace
-to say little of such things as those."
-
-"But you haven't answered me, mother," the son
-persisted. "Mother," he went on, sitting up straight,
-his voice arresting her startlingly, "you've been more
-to me, I think, than ever mother was to a son before.
-But I know, mother—at least, I think I know—I'm
-almost sure you've never told me all that troubles
-you; I feel sometimes as if there were some sealed
-book I've never been allowed to see. Don't you
-understand, mother?"
-
-"What do you mean, my son? How could it be so?"
-
-"Well, mother," he went on, his voice low and
-serious, "look at it this way. You know how easily
-a mother kind of scents out anything like that about
-a son—just by a kind of instinct. Well, don't you
-think sons love mothers just as much as mothers love
-sons?—and don't they have the same kind of
-intuitions? Don't you understand, mother?"
-
-She drew him closer to her side. "Yes, my son,"
-she said after a long silence; "yes, I understand, my
-darling. If I understand anything, it's that. And
-I'm going to ask you something, Harvey—you'll
-forgive me, my boy, won't you? But what you've just
-said opens the door for what I'm going to ask. And
-I've wanted to do it ever since you came home."
-
-Harvey's heart told him what was coming. The
-very faculty he had been trying to define was
-pursuing its silent quest, he knew. And no movement,
-no exclamation betrayed surprise or resentment
-when his mother whispered her trembling enquiry in
-his ear.
-
-Perhaps he had never learned as well the luxury of
-a mother's love. Once or twice he looked up
-wistfully, as though his mother's eyes must be pouring
-their message into his, so full and rich was the tide
-of her outflowing love, strong, compassionate, healing,
-But the curtain still veiled the light of the luminous
-soul behind—and he realized then, as never before,
-that his loss had been almost equal to her own. Yet
-the soulful tones went far to make amends, caressing
-him with tenderness, inspiring him with courage, as
-little by little they drew from him the story of the days.
-
-"It all went so well for a long time, mother," he
-said, much having been said before. "Perhaps too
-well. I got the scholarship, as you know—and then
-another—and I was elected one of the inter-collegiate
-debaters. Then I got on the first eleven; perhaps
-that pleased me most of all; and I used to go to the
-other towns and cities often, to play. And I was so
-happy and comfortable at Miss Farringall's—she's
-been so good to me. And I gradually met a lot of
-nice people in the city; and I had quite a little of
-social life—that was how it happened," he said in a
-minor tone, his eyes on the floor.
-
-The mother said nothing, asked nothing. A
-moment later he went on of his own accord. "I don't
-mean to make excuses, mother," he began, "but I
-didn't really deliberately break the promise I gave
-you—and that comforts me a lot. But it was one
-night I was out at a Southern family's home—they had
-just come lately to the city, and Dr. Wallis knew them.
-Well, they had refreshments; and they had a lot of
-queer Southern dishes. One was a little tiny thing—they
-called it a syllabub, or something like that; I
-had never heard of it before. And I took it—it had
-wine in it—and oh, mother," his eye lighting and
-his voice heightening at the memory, "no one will
-ever know—it was like as if something took fire. I
-didn't know what it meant—I seemed so helpless.
-And I fought and I struggled—and I prayed—and I
-wrote out my promise to you and I used to read
-it over and over. And I was beaten, mother—I
-couldn't help it," he cried pitifully, his voice echoing
-every note of pain—"and then I felt everything was
-up and I had nothing more to fight for, and I
-just—oh, I can't tell you; it maddens me when I think of
-it—nobody'll ever know it all. And Miss Farringall
-tried so to help me—so did Dr. Wallis—but I
-wouldn't let anybody. I turned on them," he
-exclaimed fiercely; "and I tried to forget about you,
-mother—I tried to forget about you and Jessie.
-Then I played the coward. I came back afterwards
-to Miss Farringall, and I—I borrowed money from
-her;" he forced the words like one who tells a crime.
-"And after that——"
-
-Thus ran the piteous tale. The mother spoke no
-word for long, staunching the flowing wound as best
-she could and by such means as only mothers know.
-And she mutely wondered once or twice whether
-this—or that other night—had brought the deeper
-darkness.
-
-But when his voice was still; when the poor wild
-wailing that had rung through it all had hushed itself,
-as it were, within the shoreless deep of her great,
-pitying love, she asked him another question:
-
-"How much did you borrow from Miss Farringall,
-Harvey?" the voice as calm as if no storm of grief
-had ever swept it.
-
-"Five dollars, mother," he answered, the crimson
-face averted. "But I know one or two things I can
-deny myself this term—and that'll pay it back;" the
-glance that stole towards his mother was the look of
-years agone.
-
-Without a word, dignity in every movement,
-she rose and made her way to a little bowl that stood
-on the table. From it she took an envelope, her
-fingers searching it; then she handed him its
-contents, the exact amount.
-
-He broke out in loud protest; but she was firm.
-"You haven't anything there that you can afford to
-give up," she said quietly, "and we can afford this,
-dear—but not the other. Take it for mother's sake,"
-as she thrust the bill into his hand. It was worn
-and faded; but his eyes fell upon it as upon a sacred
-thing, hallowed by the love and sacrifice and courage
-that had wakened many a holy vow in his heart
-before. As they did now again, this latest token
-burning the hand that held it, melting the heart that
-answered its appeal of love.
-
-And the mother's tryst began anew; closer than
-ever she clung to her unseen Helper; more passionately
-than before she turned her waiting eyes towards
-the long tarrying Light.
-
-
-
-
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-The years had left Harvey wiser than when
-first he entered college. The passing
-months, each opening the door a little
-wider, had admitted him farther and farther to the
-secrets of the new life about him—farther too, for
-that matter, into the mystery of life itself, the great
-complicated maze of which college life is at once the
-portal and the type.
-
-And as he stood in the main hall of the great
-Gothic building this bright spring morning, a
-reminiscent smile played about his lips as he recalled
-the day, far distant now, whereon he had first
-gazed in wonder on the animated scene. For that
-had been an epoch-marking day in Harvey's life.
-The very stateliness of the surroundings had filled
-him with a subdued awe he had never felt before, and
-his breath had come quicker at the thought that he,
-a humble child of poverty, was really a successor to
-the many great and famous men who had walked
-these halls before him. His gown was faded and
-rusty now, but he could recall the thrill with which
-he had first donned it years ago, the only badge of
-rank he had ever worn. And how fascinated he had
-been by the restless throng of students that buzzed
-about him that opening day, each intent upon his
-own pursuit, and all, or nearly all, indifferent to the
-plain-clad stranger who felt himself the very least
-among them. Some, with serious faces, had hurried
-towards the professors' rooms or gravely consulted
-the time-table already posted in the hall; while others,
-oblivious to the portent of the day, had seemed to hail
-it only as the gateway to a life of gaiety, entering
-at last upon the long-anticipated freedom their earlier
-lives had been denied.
-
-Not a few had moved idly about, turning blank
-faces here and there, all unquickened by the stimulus
-of the atmosphere and the challenge of the hour—dumb
-driftwood in life's onmoving stream. And
-some there had been—on these Harvey's gaze had
-lingered longest—who were evidently there by
-virtue of a heroism not their own, their plainness of
-apparel and soberness of mien attesting the struggle
-that lay behind the opportunity they had no mind to
-waste.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-He was opening a letter from Jessie now, handed
-to him from the morning mail; and the tide of youth
-flowed unnoticed about him as he devoured it, still
-standing on the spacious stair that led upward from
-the main entrance of the college. The smile on his
-face deepened as he read; for the letter was full of
-cheery tidings, all about their every-day toilful life,
-quickened as it had been by the good news concerning
-his progress in his studies. "We're quite sure
-you'll get another scholarship," wrote the hopeful
-Jessie. And then followed the news of the village—much
-regarding Dr. Fletcher and the church, and a
-reference to the hard times that were paralyzing
-business—and a dark hint or two about the struggle
-David Borland was having to pull through; but it
-was rumoured, too, that Geordie Nickle was giving
-him a hand, and doubtless he would outride the
-storm. And Cecil had been home two or three
-times lately, the letter went on to say—and he and
-Madeline had been seen a good deal together, and
-everybody knew how anxious Mrs. Borland was that
-it should come to something—but everybody
-wondered, too, what was coming of Cecil's work in the
-meantime; these things the now unsmiling Harvey
-read towards the close of the letter. And the last
-page or so was all about their mother, her sight
-giving as yet no sign of improvement, and her general
-health causing Jessie no little alarm. But they were
-hoping for the best and were looking forward with
-great eagerness to Harvey's return when the college
-year should be ended.
-
-Harvey was still standing with the letter in his
-hand when a voice broke in on his meditations.
-
-"Well, old sport, you look as if you'd just heard
-from your sweetheart," as Harvey looked quickly
-up. It was Cecil himself, and he stopped before his
-fellow student as if inclined to talk. For much of
-the antagonism between the two had been dissolved
-since both had come to college, Cecil being forced
-to recognize a foeman worthy of his steel when they
-had met on an arena where birth and patrimony go
-for nothing. A few casual meetings had led to
-relations of at least an amicable sort; once or twice,
-indeed, he had sought Harvey's aid in one or two
-branches of study in which his townsman was much
-more capable than himself. But such occasions were
-obviously almost at an end. For the most
-uninitiated might have diagnosed Cecil's case as he
-stood that spring morning before the one he had so
-long affected to despise.
-
-A false ideal of life, and of what constitutes life's
-enjoyment, and a nature pampered from childhood
-into easy self-indulgence, together with strong native
-passions and ample means wherewith to foster them,
-had made their handiwork so plain that he who ran
-might read. The face that now was turned on
-Harvey was stained and spotted with marks significant
-of much, the complexion mottled and sallow, the
-eye muddy and restless, the voice unnaturally harsh
-and with the old-time ring departed—such a voice
-as years sometimes give. Real solicitude marked
-Harvey's gaze as it rested on the youth before him;
-something of a sense of kinship, because of old-time
-associations—in spite of all that had occurred to mar
-it—and a feeling that in some indefinable way the
-part of protector was laid upon him, mingled with
-his thoughts as he noted the symptoms of the
-ill-spent years.
-
-"From your very own, isn't it?" Cecil bantered
-again, looking towards the letter in Harvey's
-hand.
-
-"You're right enough; that's exactly where it
-came from," the other answered, smiling.
-
-"I was just thinking about you," Cecil went on;
-"I've kind of chucked classes for this session—going
-to study up in the summer and take the 'sup's' in
-the fall. I've been too busy to work much here," he
-explained with a grimace—"but that's not what I
-wanted to speak to you about; some of the fellows
-asked me to bring you round to a little meeting we're
-going to have this evening—seven to eight o'clock—we're
-going to the theatre after it's over. It's
-something kind of new; Randolph got on to it
-down in Boston, and they say it's fairly sweeping the
-country. I believe myself it's the nearest thing to
-the truth, in the religious line, anybody's discovered yet."
-
-"What is it?" Harvey asked interestedly.
-
-"Well, it's a kind of religious meeting, as I said,"
-Cecil informed him—"only it's new—at least it's
-new here; it's a kind of theosophy, you know—and
-many of the strongest minds in the world believe in
-it," he added confidently. "That's why we want
-you to sample it."
-
-Harvey waited a little before answering. "I've
-heard a bit about it," he said at length; "I've read
-about it some—and I'd advise you to leave that sort
-of thing alone, Craig."
-
-"You're not fair," the other retorted; "you've
-never heard it expounded, have you, now?"
-
-Harvey admitted that he had never had that privilege.
-
-"Then I want you to come to-night," urged Cecil;
-"come and give it a trial anyhow."
-
-A little further parley ended in Harvey's consenting
-to attend the gathering of the faithful, not, however,
-without much candid prediction of the issue.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Seven o'clock found him there. The believers,
-some thirteen or fourteen in all, were already assembled,
-and Harvey's scrutiny of the different faces was
-swift and eager. Some few he recognized as those of
-earnest students, men of industry and intelligence.
-Others, the light of eager expectation on them as
-though the mystery of life were at last to be laid bare,
-belonged to men of rather shallow intellect,
-novelty-mongers, quick to yield to a seductive phrase or a
-plausible theory, men with just enough enterprise of
-soul to put out from shore, yet not enough to take
-their bearings or to find a pathway in the deep
-beyond. And two or three, conspicuous amongst whom
-was Cecil, were evidently hospitable to any theory,
-however fanciful, that would becalm the inward storm
-of their own making, and promise healing to secret
-wounds of shame, and absolve from penalties already
-pressing for fulfillment. Not intellectual unrest,
-but moral ferment, had been the tide wherewith
-they had drifted from the moorings they were now
-endeavouring to forget and professing to despise.
-
-The little room was fairly full and Harvey was
-seated on a small table in the corner. The
-proceedings were opened by a solemn-visaged youth who
-evidently felt the responsibility of his office. For he
-paused long, looking both around him and above,
-before he proceeded to read some ponderous passages
-from a book, evidently their ritual.
-
-Much of this was punctuated by ejaculatory
-eulogies of one, Lao-tsze. Harvey had never heard
-this name before, but the expounder pronounced it
-frequently in terms of decided reverence; and he was
-at great pains to convey to his hearers his
-dependence upon this man of unpronounceable name
-as the fountain-head of inspiration and guidance.
-
-The solemn disquisition ended, several others
-added their testimony to the light and comfort this
-teaching had afforded them, one or two venturing
-further to expound some doctrines which all seemed
-to find precious in proportion as they were obscure.
-Such phrases as "explication of the Divine Essence,"
-"deduction of the phenomenal universe," "unity
-imminent in the whole," were freely dispensed, the
-listening faces answering with the light of intelligence,
-the light most resolutely produced where the shades
-were deepest. "Paracelsus" was a name several
-hastened to pronounce, and familiarly, as though he
-were an old-time friend. One very small student
-with a very bespotted face broke his long silence by
-rising to solemnly declare that since he had been
-following the new light he had come to the conclusion
-that God was the great "terminus ad quem," taking
-a moment longer to express his surprise and
-disappointment that all men did not so discern the truth in
-its simplicity.
-
-Another rose to deplore that so little was known
-of the life of the great and good Lao-tsze, but
-comforted his hearers with the assurance that this distant
-dignitary had been reincarnate in a certain American
-poet, whose name he mentioned, well known as a
-wandering printer whose naked lucubrations were
-given at intervals to a startled world. This later
-apostle then received his share of eulogy, after which
-the ardent neophyte quoted copiously from his works,
-scattering the leaves of grass among the listening
-circle.
-
-Exhausted, the speaker surrendered the floor to
-another, who launched into a glorification of the
-great Chinaman—and his successor—amounting to a
-deification. To all of which Harvey listened in
-respectful weariness, for he knew something of one of
-them at least, and of his works. Suddenly the
-devotee introduced the great name of Jesus Christ; for
-purposes of comparison alone did he quote the latter
-name, conceding to the founder of the Christian faith
-a place among the good and great, but making no
-attempt to conceal the deeper homage he accorded to
-the other.
-
-This was too much for the visitor, who could
-hardly believe his ears. Indifference had gradually
-taken the form of contempt, this in turn deepening to
-disgust as he listened to what at first struck him as
-shallow platitude, descending later to what he esteemed as
-blasphemous vulgarity. Deeper than he knew was his
-faith in the One his mother had taught his childish
-lips to bless; and, as there rose before him a vision of
-the humble life that same faith had so enriched and
-strengthened, of the heavenly light that had gilded
-her darksome path, of the sweetness and patience
-that this light and faith had so wonderfully wrought,
-his soul rose up in a kind of lofty wrath that overbore
-all considerations which might have sealed his lips.
-Moreover, a casual glance at his watch informed him
-that it was exactly half-past seven—and the covenant
-he had scarcely ever forgotten at that hour was
-secretly and silently fulfilled.
-
-Rising during a momentary silence, he was received
-with a murmur of subdued applause. But the
-appreciation of the circle was short-lived.
-
-"Did I understand the last speaker to say," he
-asked in a low, intense voice, "that he puts that man
-he quoted from—that American poet—alongside of,
-or ahead of, Jesus Christ?—as a moral character, I
-mean, and as a teacher of men?"
-
-The youth thus addressed made some evasive reply,
-not, however, revising his classification in the least.
-
-"Then listen here," exclaimed Harvey as he
-reached for the volume of poems lying on the table.
-"I'll read you something more from your master." Hastily
-turning the leaves, he found the passage he
-was in search of after some little difficulty, and began
-slowly to read the words, their malodour befouling the
-atmosphere as they came.
-
-One of the faithful rose to his feet with a loud
-exclamation of protest. But Harvey overbore him.
-"If he's all you say he is, you can't reasonably
-object," he declared; "I'm not reading anything but
-what he wrote," still releasing the stainful stream.
-
-Harvey flung the book on the table as he finished.
-"The gutter's the place for that thing," he blurted out
-contemptuously; "that's where it came from—a
-reprobate that deserted his own children, children of
-shame though they were, and gave himself to kindling
-the lowest passions of humanity—these be your
-gods, oh Israel," he went on scornfully. "I'll crave
-permission to retire now, if that's the best you've got
-to help a fellow that finds the battle hard enough
-already—I'll hold to the old faith till I get some better
-substitute than this," moving towards the door as he
-spoke.
-
-The leader almost angrily challenged him. "Perhaps
-our friend will tell us what he knows about 'the
-old faith,' as he calls it, and why he clings to it so
-devotedly—it's not often we get a chance to hear from
-a real Christian," he added jeeringly, "and it's a poor
-cause that won't stand argument."
-
-A chorus of voices approved the suggestion. "If
-you've got one good solid intellectual argument for
-it, let us hear it," one student cried defiantly.
-"We've had these believers on general principles with
-us before."
-
-Harvey turned, his hand already on the door, his
-face white and drawn. "Yes," he cried hotly, "I'll
-give you one reason—just one—for the faith that's in
-me. I don't profess to be much of a Christian—but
-I know one reason that goes for more with me than
-all the mouthings I've heard here to-night. It's worth
-a mountain of such stuff."
-
-"Let's have it, then," the leader said, moving closer
-to where Harvey stood. "Give us your overwhelming
-argument."
-
-Harvey cast a haughty glance at him and those
-behind him.
-
-"I will," he thundered; "it's my mother, by God,"
-he cried passionately, the hot blood surging through
-his brain—"do you hear that—it's my mother."
-
-There was a brief hush, for they must be reprobate
-indeed who would not recognize that sovereign plea.
-But one intrepid spirit soon broke the silence; a
-young stalwart of nineteen or twenty, towering among
-the rest, was quickly to the fore with his verdict.
-"Just what I expected," he drawled derisively; "the
-old story of a mother's influence; you forget, my dear
-fellow," turning towards Harvey as he spoke, "how
-credulous the woman-heart is by nature—and how
-easily they imagine anything they really want to
-believe. Besides, we haven't the advantage of knowing
-your saintly relative," he added, something very like
-a sneer in the voice.
-
-He was evidently bent on developing his idea, but
-the words had hardly left his lips before Harvey had
-brushed aside those who stood between as he flung
-himself towards the speaker. His eyes were aflame,
-and his burning cheek and flashing eye told how deep
-the taunt had struck. He did not stop till his face
-was squarely opposite the other's, his lips as tense as
-though they would never speak again.
-
-"Gemmell," he said, calling the man by name, "I
-don't know whether you mean to insult me or not—but
-I'll find out. You don't know anything about
-my mother—and she's not to be made the subject of
-discussion here. But I know her; and I know the
-miracle her dark life's been. And if you say that
-that's all been just her imagination, and her credulity,
-then I say you're a liar and a cad—and if you want
-to continue this argument outside, by heavens, here's
-the door—and here's the invitation, —— you," as he
-smote the astonished debater full in the face. Parrying
-the return blow, his lips white and livid, he turned
-to lead the way outside. His fuming antagonist
-made as if to follow him; but two or three, springing
-between the men, undertook the part of peacemakers.
-Perhaps Cecil's efforts were as influential as any.
-"Let the thing drop, Gemmell," he counselled his
-friend in a subdued voice; "I know him of old—and
-he's the very devil in a fight."
-
-Whatever the cause, the fact remains that when
-Harvey paused a minute or two outside the door he
-found himself joined by none but Craig himself.
-
-"Come on," said the latter, "what's the use of
-making fools of ourselves over religion? Come on,
-and we'll go to the theatre. I told you we intended
-going there after anyhow—but I doubt if the others
-will be going now; so we'll just go ourselves. There
-won't be anything very fine to hear, perhaps—but
-there'll be something real interesting to look at," with
-a laugh that his companion could hardly fail to
-understand. But Harvey was thinking very little of
-what his guide was saying, his mind sufficiently
-employed with the incident just concluded, and he
-hardly realized whither he was being led till he found
-himself before the box-office in the lobby. A
-rubicund face within was the background for a colossal
-cigar that protruded half-way through the wicket;
-Cecil was enquiring from the source of the cigar as to
-the price of tickets.
-
-Rallying, Harvey made his protest and turned to
-go away. "I've got to work to-night," he said; "it's
-too near exams."
-
-Craig laughed. "Don't get nervous," he retorted
-significantly. "I'll pay the shot—it's only half a
-dollar each."
-
-Whereat Harvey, the pride of youth high within
-him, strode back to the window, almost pushing his
-companion from him as he deposited his money and
-pressed on into the crowded gallery.
-
-Not more than half an hour had passed when the
-spectacular side, as Cecil had so confidently predicted,
-grew more and more pronounced.
-
-"I told you," he whispered excitedly to Harvey;
-"look at that one in the blue gauze skirt," leaning
-forward in ardent interest as he spoke.
-
-Harvey's answer was given a few minutes later
-when, without a word to the enchanted Cecil, he rose
-and quietly slipped towards the door and downward
-to the street. "Money with blood on it, too," he
-half muttered hotly to himself as he passed the office
-that had received the hard-won coin.
-
-Hurrying towards home, he suddenly noticed a
-heavy dray backed up against the window of an
-office; evidently the moving was being done by
-night, that the day's work might not be interrupted.
-Pausing a moment to watch, the stormy face brightened
-a little as he stepped up to the man in charge
-of the waggon. There were only two, which made
-Harvey more hopeful of his scheme.
-
-"Want any help?" he asked abruptly.
-
-"You're right we do," the man answered promptly.
-"Another of our men was to be here to-night, but
-he hasn't turned up—I'll bet a five he's in the gods
-over there," nodding towards the festive resort that
-Harvey had deserted.
-
-"How long will it take?" enquired the student.
-
-The man reflected a moment. "Oh, I guess about
-two hours," he surmised; "that is, to get the things
-out and then get them hoisted in at Richmond Street."
-
-"How much'll you give me if I help you?"
-
-"I'll give you forty cents—and you'll have a free
-ride," said the man jocosely.
-
-"Make it fifty," proposed Harvey. "I owe half
-a dollar—I'll do it for fifty cents."
-
-"All right," replied the teamster, whereat Harvey
-flung the coat from his back and the burden from his
-conscience. And the face which Miss Farringall
-was now coming to await so eagerly was very bright
-when he got home that night, her own beaming as
-she marked its light.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`BREAKERS AHEAD`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXII
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *BREAKERS AHEAD*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-There is a peace, deep and mysterious,
-which only the defeated know. It is
-familiar to those who, struggling long to
-avert a crisis, find that their strivings must be all in
-vain. The student long in doubt; the politician
-weary of his battle; the business man fighting against
-bankruptcy—all these have marvelled at the strange
-composure that is born when the last hope of victory
-is dead. Many an accountant and confidential clerk,
-contriving through haunted years to defer the
-discovery which must some day lay bare his shame, has
-felt this mysterious calm when destiny has at last
-received him to her iron bosom. And who has not
-observed the same in some life struggling against
-weakness and disease?—when the final verdict is
-announced and Death already beckons, the first wild
-tumult of alarm and anguish will presently be hushed
-into a silent and majestic peace.
-
-David Borland's kindly eyes had less of merriment
-than in the earlier years. The old explosive spark
-was there indeed, unconquerable still; but the years
-had endowed the face with a gentle seriousness, not
-visible before, which yet became it rather better than
-the merriment it had unconsciously displaced. And
-there were signs that other enemies than the passing
-years had wrought their havoc on the mobile face.
-For care and conflict, hope of victory to-day and fear
-of overthrow to-morrow, had wrought such changes
-as the years could not effect.
-
-Yet there was more of peace in the serious eyes than
-there had been of yore. Madeline was beside him
-as he sat this morning by the window, gazing long
-in silence at the handiwork of spring without. Soft
-wavy clouds floated in the sky, pressing serenely on
-their way as if there were no such things as tumult
-and pain and disappointment in the world beneath
-them; the air was vocal with many a songster's
-jubilation that his exile was past and gone; the
-bursting trees and new-born flowers and tender grass
-all joined the silent anthem that acclaims the
-regeneration of the year—and David thought they had
-never seemed so beautiful.
-
-"There isn't nothin' can take that away from us,
-Madeline," he said at last, obviously as much to
-himself as to the girl beside him.
-
-"What, father?" she enquired softly.
-
-"Oh, lots o' things—all the real things, that is.
-All that's lovely; all I'm lookin' at now—nobody
-can't take them away, the trees, an' the flowers, an'
-the birds. No matter how poor we get, they're some
-o' the things thieves can't break through an' steal, as
-the Scriptur' says," he mused, gazing far over the
-meadow at the orchard in its bridal robes, and
-beyond them both to the distant grandeur of the sky.
-
-"Will we really have to give up very much,
-father?" the girl ventured, unconsciously turning as
-she spoke and permitting her eyes to rove a moment
-about the richly furnished home.
-
-David was silent quite a while. His face seemed
-wrung with a pain he could not control, and his
-hands went out gently towards the girl's head.
-
-"Let it down, daughter," he said quietly.
-
-"What, father? Let what down?"
-
-"I like it better the old way, dear," he said in
-answer, already releasing the wealth of lovely hair;
-"let it fall over your shoulders the way it used to do,
-Madeline," as the flowing tresses, but little darkened
-by the darkening years, scattered themselves as in
-other days. "Now sit here, Madeline—come. No,
-you're not heavy, child; I've got kind o' used to
-carryin' loads these days—an' this always seems to
-make 'em lighter," as she nestled in his arms.
-
-Another long silence followed, broken at last by
-David's brave, trembling voice. "This is the hardest
-part o' the whole business, Madeline," he said resolutely.
-"But I just found out the worst this mornin' —an'
-I ain't goin' to keep nothin' back. I've failed,
-daughter; I've failed—leastways, I've failed in
-business. I don't think I've failed no other way, thank
-God," he added in firmer tone, but still struggling
-with his words. "There won't be no stain, Madeline,"
-his lips touching the flowing strands as he
-spoke; "but things got awful tight—an' I made one
-last terrible effort—an' it failed; it failed, Madeline."
-
-The girl's arm was about his neck. "I knew
-there wouldn't be any stain," she murmured as her
-face was bended downward to his own; "not with
-my father—and it won't stop us being happy, will
-it?" she added hopefully, looking into the care-worn
-eyes.
-
-"No, dear, no," responded David—"only there's
-just one thing troubles me the most. It's about
-Geordie Nickle. He bought a lot o' the stock; I
-felt at the time he done it just to help me—an' I
-didn't ask him—an' I kind o' hoped it'd all come
-out all right. But it didn't, Madeline—an' Geordie's
-lost an awful lot. I don't know if he has more
-left—but I'm hopin' so. There ain't no better man in
-the world than him. One of the things that's always
-kept me believin' in God, is—is just Geordie Nickle.
-Men like him does more to keep faith livin' than all
-the colleges an' all the professors in the world; he's
-a beautiful argument for religion, is Geordie
-Nickle—he kind o' proves God, just the same as one
-sunbeam proves the sun," David concluded, his eyes
-still fixed on other credentials in the silent glory that
-wrapped earth and sky.
-
-It was some time before Madeline spoke again.
-"Poor old father," she said gently; "what you must
-have suffered all these long months—more than
-mother and I ever thought of."
-
-"It's been years, child," the father answered softly;
-"lots o' times I thought I couldn't stand it no
-longer—but it came awful easy at the last," he suddenly
-exclaimed. "It was a kind of a relief when I knew the
-worst—real funny, how calm I took it. It's a little
-like some women I seen once at an afternoon
-five-o'clock at-home," he went on dryly, a droll smile
-stealing over his face; "they was eatin' them little
-rough cakes they call macaronies—an' I was watchin'
-two or three of the nobbiest of 'em. Well, they
-nibbled an' nibbled so dainty, like a mouse at a hunk o'
-cheese—an' then, when they thought nobody wasn't
-lookin', they just stuck the whole thing in an'
-swallowed it like a bullfrog does a fly, an' then passed
-their cup as calm as you please for another helpin' o'
-tea. That's a good deal the way I took my medicine
-when I got the last dose of it—had a kind of a
-feelin' of relief. Didn't you never notice how easy
-an' quiet a stream runs when it's past the waterfall?
-Shouldn't wonder if this feelin' I've got's somethin'
-the same as the way some fellows enjoys gettin' a
-tooth yanked after they've been holdin' hot salt to it
-every night for a month," and David heaved a reminiscent
-sigh as the memory of his own sleepless nights
-drifted before him for a moment.
-
-Very low, much of it inarticulate, some of it
-altogether silent, was the language with which Madeline
-sought to comfort the weary and wounded heart,
-little knowing how successful she was; the father held
-her closer and closer to him; and the swiftly slipping
-treasures around them, that must soon be sacrificed,
-seemed more and more insignificant as the preciousness
-of love's possessions grew more real and more dear.
-
-"Do you know, Madeline, they tell me I won't be
-worth nothin' when everythin's sold—an' I only hope
-there'll be enough for everybody—they tell me I
-won't be worth nothin'—but I never felt richer than I
-do this minute," the words coming from lips half
-hidden among the golden hair. "They can all go to
-thunder about their assets, so long's I've got this
-one—Bradstreet's an awful liar about how much a
-man's worth," he added almost gleefully, holding
-Madeline's soft hand to his furrowed cheek.
-
-"And I never loved you so much as I do right
-now," the girl responded, employing his own words,
-her hand wandering among the gray. "Only I'm so
-sorry for mother—she was so fond of all the things.
-Where do you suppose we'll live, father?" she
-asked him timidly after a pause.
-
-Mr. Borland made no reply for a little, his eyes
-fixed upon a lane of sunbeams that came dancing
-through the window.
-
-"I can't exactly say, Madeline," he began slowly.
-"Only I reckon it'll be a little place, wherever it
-is—but them's often the kind that has the most
-room," he went on reflectively; "I'm sure there'll
-be room for everybody we love, an' every one that
-loves us. I often think how it was the One that
-hadn't no place to lay His head that offered everybody
-else a place to rest in," he mused reverently;
-"an' I think it ought to be a little that way with folks,
-no matter how poor they get."
-
-Before his words were ended Madeline had slipped
-from his arms; looking up, David could just see her
-disappearing as she hurried up the stairs. Half in
-sorrow, half in jubilance, he was still holding
-communion with his thoughts when she returned, the
-dancing sunbeams falling athwart her face as she
-resumed the place she had deserted.
-
-"I've got something to tell you, father," she began
-excitedly, drawing a tiny paper book from its envelope.
-"It's just a little surprise—but I'm so glad I'm
-able to do it. No, father, you mustn't refuse," she
-protested as she saw him beginning to speak, his eyes
-remarking what she held in her hand. "I saved this
-all myself, father; I began over two years ago—it's
-nearly three hundred dollars," she declared jubilantly
-after a fitting pause, "and I was going to get something
-with it—something special, something wonderful—it
-doesn't matter now what it was—besides, I wanted
-you to see how saving I could be. But now I want
-you to take it all, father," the eager face, so unfamiliar
-with financial magnitudes, radiant with loving
-expectation, "and pay those awful creditors. Won't
-that help, father?—won't it help?" she cried again,
-not knowing what to make of the expression on her
-father's face.
-
-David Borland's hands shook as he took the little
-pass-book. His head was bowed over it and the
-silence lasted till a hot blur fell upon it, a message
-from afar.
-
-"Yes," he murmured huskily. "Yes, thank God,
-it helps; more than any man can tell till he's got a
-broken heart like mine," he said passionately, the
-long stifled tide of grief and care bursting forth at
-last. "It more than helps—it heals," he murmured
-iow again, holding the pass-book close over his
-brimming eyes. "Who's that?" he suddenly digressed
-sharply, the deathlike stillness broken by a knock at
-the door. "Who's got to go an' come now of all
-times?" as he released the wondering girl, already
-moving forward to answer the summons.
-
-"Come in, come in," David heard her cry delightedly
-a moment later, his own face brightening as
-he recognized the voice. Instinctively he rose as if
-to rush across the room and bid welcome to the
-visitor; yet something seemed to check the impulse as
-he sank back in his chair, an expression of deepening
-pain on the tired face. But the resolve formed strong
-within him again and the voice rang like a trumpet.
-
-"Come in, Mr. Nickle," it cried, echoing Madeline's,
-"come in, an' welcome. I see by your face
-you know it all—an' I knew you wouldn't be long o'
-comin'. Sit down—here, alongside o' me."
-
-A man shall be as a refuge from the storm; so runs
-the ancient message that has shed its music on
-multitudes of troubled hearts. And how wonderfully
-true! How mysterious the shelter that one life
-affords another, if only that life be strong and true;
-gifted it need not be, nor cultured, nor nimble with
-tender words nor skilled in caressing ways—for these
-are separate powers and sparingly distributed. But
-let the life be true, simple and sincere and brave, and
-its very existence is a hiding-place; no word may be
-spoken, or aim achieved, or device employed, but yet
-the very being of a strong and earnest man remains
-the noblest pavilion for the defeated and the sad.
-
-How oftentimes the peace of surrender is deepened
-by an experience of friendship such as comes only to
-the vanquished! And friendship's sweetest voice is
-heard by the despairing heart. Thus it was with
-David Borland as his friend sat beside him, so grave
-and tender, his very look betokening that he knew
-all about the long, bitter conflict, as he obviously
-knew the disaster that had marked its close. He sat
-long in comparative silence, only a word at intervals
-to show that he was following David's story.
-
-"An' I feel worse over that than all the rest,"
-David said at length, "to think you lost by me.
-But I'll see yet that no man will lose a cent by me,
-if I'm spared long enough—there's a heap o' work
-in these old bones yet," he went on bravely, "if
-only——"
-
-"And what about me, father?—what about me?"
-Madeline broke in, drawing near with half
-outstretched hands; "I'm going to work too—there
-isn't any one in this house as strong as I am," she
-affirmed, her glowing face and flashing eyes
-indicating the sincerity of her words.
-
-David Borland almost groaned as he took the
-extended hands. "Oh, child, they're so soft, they're
-so soft and tender. And you'll never do a day's
-work while your old dad can work for you," he said
-tenderly, gazing into the deep passion of her eyes.
-
-"Won't I though? I'll show you, father," she
-cried in sweet defiance. "Do you think I'm nothing
-but an ornament, a useless ornament?" she asked
-reproachfully. "Why can't a woman bear her part
-in the battle just as well as men?—I'm going to do
-it, anyhow. I know how to do lots of things; I can
-teach, or sew, or do woodwork—or I can learn
-stenography—it doesn't matter which; only we'll
-fight it out together, father, you and me—and
-mother," she added dutifully.
-
-David's eyes were swimming with loving admiration.
-Once or twice he tried to utter what he felt,
-but the words seemed to choke before they reached
-his lips. Finally he found the very ones he wanted.
-"Madeline, you're a thoroughbred," was all he said;
-but the girl knew the greatness of the eulogy.
-
-David turned again to his visitor. "Please don't
-think I'm buttin' in where I've no business—but I
-can't keep from wonderin' if—if—if this has took
-everythin'," he said in much embarrassment. "That's
-been kind of hauntin' me for months."
-
-The old man smiled. "I dinna feel it maitters
-muckle aboot mysel'," he answered slowly. "I'll hae
-what I'll be needin' till I gang till my rest, I'm
-thinkin'," he went on quietly; "an' ony way, I gaed
-intill't wi' my eyes open—but I thocht it was for the
-best. There's juist ae maitter that's giein' me mair
-trouble than anither."
-
-"What's that?" David asked abruptly; "I'll bet
-all I haven't got it's not yourself."
-
-"Weel, ye're richt—it's no mysel'," Geordie answered;
-"I could thole it better if it was. It's the
-laddie—it's Harvey, ye ken. You an' me'll no' be
-able to help him ony mair—an' the laddie was daein'
-fine at the college; an' I'm dootin' it'll be a sair blow
-on his puir mither to tak' him awa. Does she ken?"
-he asked, slowly raising his head towards David.
-
-"I don't think so," said his friend; "but I suppose
-she'll have to be told sooner or later."
-
-"Hoo lang will it be till the laddie's through?"
-
-"He gets his degree the next graduating class,"
-volunteered Madeline, her face showing the keenness
-of her interest. "It's not so very, very long," she
-added wistfully, looking as unconcerned as possible.
-
-Then the old man began in the quietest and most
-natural way to tell David and Madeline all about his
-circumstances, the simple story touched with the
-pathos of an utterly unselfish heart. For his chief
-concern was evidently not for himself at all—he
-would have enough with strict economy to keep a roof
-still above his head—but his grief for Harvey's
-interrupted career was sincere and deep. He recognized
-fully, and admitted frankly, that it would take what
-little was left him to supply the humblest necessities
-of his remaining years. But this seemed to give
-him little or no disquietude; his thoughts were
-divided between Harvey and his mother, and he seemed
-troubled as to how the latter should be apprised of
-the cloud that had brought this additional darkness
-to her life.
-
-"She'll no' learn it frae the lips o' gossip, if I can
-help it," he said resolutely at last, his staff coming
-down with emphasis on the floor.
-
-"Go easy on that Turkey rug, Mr. Nickle," David
-interrupted with valorous merriment; "it belongs to
-my creditors now, you know."
-
-Geordie permitted himself to abandon his line of
-thought long enough to say: "Ye dinna mean to
-tell me, David, that ye'll hae to part wi' a' yir bonnie
-bit things aboot the hoose?"
-
-David never flinched as he looked straight into
-the sober eyes.
-
-"All that's of any value," he answered resolutely;
-"no stolen plumage for me—I've no desire for it,
-thank God," he added cheerily. "I don't want
-nothin' but a few little necessaries—an' a couple o'
-luxuries, such as this here," drawing Madeline within
-his arm as he spoke; "it's great how the law can't
-get at a fellow's real treasures. Just what I was
-sayin' to you a few minutes ago, Madeline—the
-things that counts the most is the things that's left, no
-matter how poor a fellow gets."
-
-Geordie's eyes were shining with delight; such
-philosophy as this touched the inmost heart of him.
-
-"Ye're richt, David, ye're richt," he cried fervently.
-"Man, but it's bonnie to see ye takin' the chastenin'
-o' th' Almichty like ye dae. I was sair feart for ye,
-when I found oot what was gaein' to happen. But
-ye've got the richt o't, David, ye've got the richt o't,"
-the old man went on earnestly; "it's a sair loss, nae
-doot—but it canna rob ye o' what ye love the most.
-An' I'll tell ye anither thing, David," he pursued, his
-voice the prophet voice, "it canna rob ye o' the
-providence o' God—it canna change the purpose o' His
-will for ye," and Geordie's outstretched hand, not
-often or lightly so extended, took David's in its
-own. "But aboot Harvey's mither," he suddenly
-resumed, recalling the thread that had been broken;
-"she'll no' hear what's happened frae the lips o'
-gossip. I'll tell her mysel'," he affirmed, the resolution
-forming swiftly; "an' I'll dae it when I'm gaein' hame
-frae here," proceeding forthwith to button up his coat
-preparatory to departure.
-
-"I'll go with you," David said quietly. "There's
-no reason why I shouldn't. I've a lot to regret, but
-nothin' to be ashamed of—nothin' to be ashamed of,
-as I said afore. Where's your mother, Madeline?—I
-want to see her afore I go."
-
-"She's up-stairs," Madeline answered in rather a
-subdued tone. "I think she's looking over some things."
-
-David sighed as he rose and turned towards the
-stair. Reaching the room above, he found his wife
-gazing upon the rich contents of several receptacles
-whose treasures were outturned upon the floor. He
-sat down beside her on the bed, making rather a
-plaintive attempt to comfort the heart whose sorrow
-he knew was different from his own.
-
-"I'm going to keep everything of Madeline's I can,"
-she said, after some preliminary conversation. "Poor
-child, she was looking forward so to her coming-out
-party—but I guess that's all a thing of the past now,"
-she sighed. "And everybody said you were going
-to be elected the town's first mayor, too. I was
-counting so much on that—but of course they won't
-do it now. But do you know, David, there's one bit
-of consolation left to us—and that's about Madeline.
-I think, I think, David, she'll be provided for, all
-right, before very long," smiling significantly as she
-made the prediction.
-
-"How?" David asked, quite dumfoundered, yet
-not without a kind of chill sensation in the region of
-his heart.
-
-"Oh, the old way," responded his wife; "the old,
-old way, David. I've seen signs of it, I think—at
-least I've seen signs that some one else wouldn't mind
-taking care of her, some one that would be able to give
-her quite as much as we ever did," she concluded, a
-note of decided optimism in the voice.
-
-David sat up straight and gasped. "Surely," he
-began in a hoarse voice, "surely you ain't talkin'
-about—about matrimony, are you, mother?"
-
-Madeline's mother smiled assentingly. "That's
-the old, old way, David—I guess that's what it'll end
-in, if things go on all right. Don't look so stormy,
-David—I should think you'd be glad."
-
-"Glad!" cried David, his voice rising like a wind.
-"Good Lord, glad—glad, if a fellow's goin' to lose
-everything an' then be left alone," he half wailed;
-"you expect a fellow to be glad if he gets news that
-he might have to part with the dearest thing he's
-got?" he went on boisterously. "But I'm makin' a
-goat o' myself," chastening his tone as he continued;
-"there ain't no such thing goin' to happen. Who
-in thunder do you imagine wants our Madeline?—I'd
-like to see the cuss that'd——"
-
-"But, David," his wife interrupted rather eagerly,
-"wait till I tell you who it is—or perhaps you
-know—it's Cecil; and I'm quite sure he'd be ever so
-attentive, if Madeline would only permit it. And I don't
-suppose any young gentleman of our acquaintance
-has the prospects Cecil has."
-
-David's face wore a strange expression; half of
-pity it seemed to be and half of fiery wrath. "That's
-so, mother," he said in quite a changed voice; "if
-all reports is true there ain't many with prospects
-like his—he'll get what's comin' to him, I reckon.
-But there's one thing I'm goin' to tell you, mother,"
-and the woman started at the changed tone of the
-words, so significant in its sternness, "an' I'll jest tell
-it to you now—an' it's this. Mebbe we'll have to
-beg our bread afore we're through—but Cecil ain't
-never goin' to have our Madeline—not if me an' God
-can help it," whereat he turned and went almost
-noiselessly from the room, his white lips locked in
-silence. And Madeline wondered why his eyes
-rested so yearningly on her when he returned, filled
-with such hungering tenderness as though he were
-to see her never more.
-
-
-
-
-
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- \XXIII
-
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-.. class:: center medium bold
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- *INGENUITY OF LOVE*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Neither Geordie nor David spoke a word
-as they went down the steps and passed
-slowly along the avenue that led from the
-gate to the house. But just as they opened the gate
-David turned and took a long wistful survey of the
-scene behind.
-
-"It'll be quite a twist to leave it all," he said,
-trying to smile. "I've got so kind o' used to it—there's
-a terrible pile o' difference between *bein'* poor an'
-*gettin'* poor," he added reflectively.
-
-"But ye'd hae to gang awa an' leave it, suner or
-later," Geordie suggested; "it comes to us a'—an' it's
-only a wee bit earlier at the maist."
-
-"That's dead true," assented David; "sometimes
-I think th' Almighty sends things like this to get us
-broke in for the other—a kind of rehearsal for
-eternity," he concluded, quite solemnly for him. "Look
-there, Mr. Nickle," he suddenly digressed, pointing
-towards the house, "d'ye see that upper left-hand
-window, with the light shinin' on it, an' the curtain
-blowin' out?—well, that's where Madeline was born.
-It's kind o' hard," he said, so softly that Geordie
-scarcely heard.
-
-"But ye hae the lassie wi' ye yet—the licht's aye
-shinin' frae her bonnie face," Geordie replied
-consolingly.
-
-"Poor child, she's had to scrape up most o' the
-sunshine for our home herself this last while,"
-responded David, "but it ain't goin' to be that way
-after this—when things is dark, that's the time
-for faces to be bright, ain't it?—even if a fellow does
-lose all he's got. Do you know, Mr. Nickle," he
-went on very earnestly, "I've a kind of a feelin' a
-man should be ashamed of himself, if all his money's
-done for him is to make him miserable when it's gone.
-I mean this," turning and smiling curiously towards
-Geordie, "if a fellow's had lots o' money, an' all the
-elegant things it gets him, it ought to kind o' fit him
-for doin' without it. I don't believe you catch my
-meanin'—but money, an' advantages, ought to do
-that much for the man that's had 'em, to learn him
-how to do without 'em if he has to—it ought to dig
-wells in him somewhere that won't dry up when his
-money takes the wings o' the mornin' an' flies away,
-as the Scriptur' says."
-
-"Yon's graun' doctrine, David," Geordie assented
-eagerly; "forbye, there's' anither thing it ought to
-dae for a man—it should let him ken hoo easy thae
-man-made streams dry up, an' what sair things they
-are to minister till the soul. An' they should make
-him seek the livin' water, so he'll thirst nae mair
-forever. I seem to ken that better mysel' than I've ever
-done afore."
-
-"Mebbe that's part o' the plan," David made reply;
-"'cause how a fellow takes a thing like this here
-that's happened me, depends 'most altogether on jest
-one thing—an' I'll tell you what it is—whether he
-takes it good or bad depends on whether he believes
-there's any plan in the business at all. I mean some
-One else's plan, of course. There's a terrible heap o'
-comfort in jest believin' there's a plan. When things
-was all fine sailin' with me, I always held to the plan
-idea—always kep' pratin' about the web a higher
-hand was weavin' for us all—an' I ain't agoin' to go
-back on it now," he added with unwonted vehemence.
-"No, sir, I never believed more in God's weavin' than
-I do this minute. 'Tain't jest the way I'd like it
-wove—but then we don't see only the one side," he
-added resignedly. "D'ye know, Mr. Nickle, we're
-terrible queer critters, ain't we? It really is one of
-the comicalest things about us, that we don't believe
-th' Almighty's plan for us is as good as our own plan
-for ourselves. Funny too, ain't it, now?" he pursued,
-"an' the amusin' part o' the whole business is this,
-how the folks that's most religious often kicks the
-hardest when they ain't allowed to do their share o'
-the weavin'," he concluded, looking earnestly into his
-friend's face.
-
-Geordie's reply found expression more by his
-eyes than by word of mouth. But both were
-interrupted by their journey's end, for by this time
-they had arrived at the little store. Entering and
-enquiring for Mrs. Simmons, they were conducted
-by Jessie into the unpretentious sitting-room where
-Harvey's mother was seated in the solitary
-armchair that adorned the room, her hands busy with
-the knitting that gave employment to the passing
-hours.
-
-Grave and kindly were the salutations of her
-visitors, equally sincere and dignified the greetings in
-return. After some irrelevant conversation, David
-introduced the purpose of their visit with the tact that
-never fails a kindly heart, bidding his friend tell the
-rest; and the half-knitted stocking fell idle on her
-lap as the silent listener composed herself bravely to
-hear the tidings that something assured her would be
-far from welcome.
-
-Once or twice she checked a rising sigh, and once
-or twice she nervously resumed the knitting that had
-been given over; but no other sign bespoke the
-sorrow and disappointment that possessed her. If any
-wave of pain passed over the gentle face, it found no
-outlet in the sightless eyes. Geordie kept nothing
-back; the whole story of their present situation—and
-of their consequent helplessness to further aid
-her scholar son—was faithfully rehearsed. And the
-very tone of his voice bore witness to the sincerity of
-his statement that the whole calamity had no more
-painful feature than the one it was their mission now
-to tell.
-
-"I'm content," she said quietly when Mr. Nickle
-had concluded. "I'll not deny that the hope of—of
-what's evidently not to be—has made the days bright
-for me ever since Harvey went away," she went on,
-as if her life had never known darkness; "but he's
-had a good start, and he can never lose what he's got
-already—and maybe the way'll be opened up yet;
-it's never been quite closed on us," she added
-reverently, "though it often looked dark enough. The
-promise to the poor and the needy never seems
-to fail. And I'm sure Harvey'll find something to
-do—and oh," she broke in more eagerly than before,
-"I know the very first thing he'd want me to do is to
-thank you both for your great kindness, your wonderful
-kindness to us all," she concluded, both hands
-going out in the darkness to hold for a moment the
-hands of her benefactors.
-
-The conversation was not much longer continued,
-both Geordie and David retreating before the brave
-and trustful resignation as they never would have
-done before lamentation or repining. And after
-they had gone Jessie and her mother sat long
-together in earnest consultation; for the one was as
-resolved as the other that something must be done
-to avert the impending disaster.
-
-"Just to think, mother, he'd be a B.A. if he could
-only finish with his class," said Jessie; "and then, then
-he could be nearly any thing he liked, after that. If only
-business were a little better in the shop," she sighed.
-
-"But it's losing, Jessie," the mother replied, forcing
-the candid declaration. "I can tell that myself—often
-I count how many times the bell above the
-door rings in a day; and it's growing less, I've noticed
-that for a year now. It's all because Glenallen's
-growing so fast, too—that's the worst of it; what
-helps others seems to hurt us."
-
-Jessie understood, the anomaly having been often
-discussed before; it had been discussed, too, in the
-more pretentious shops, though in a far different frame
-of mind. "We've got along so well this far—we've
-got almost used to doing without things," she said
-with a plaintive smile, "and it seems such a pity to
-have to stop when the goal's in sight."
-
-"If I were only stronger," mused the mother;
-"but I'm not," she added quietly, the pale face
-turning towards Jessie's—"your mother's not gaining
-any; you can see that, can't you, dear?"
-
-Jessie's protest was swift and passionate. "You
-mustn't talk that way," she cried appealingly;
-"you've spoken like that once or twice—and I won't
-hear of it," the voice quivering in its intensity.
-"You're going to get well—I'm almost sure you will.
-And there's nothing more I'd let you do," her eyes
-glowing with the ardour of her purpose, "if you were
-as well and strong as ever in your life."
-
-Mrs. Simmons smiled, but the smile was full of sadness.
-
-"Have it as you will, my child," she said, "but
-there's no use shutting our eyes to the truth—it's for
-your own sake I spoke of it, Jessie. When you
-write to Harvey, do you tell him I'm gaining, dear?"
-a smile on the patient face.
-
-Jessie was silent a moment. "Don't, mother
-don't," she pleaded. "Let's talk about what we'll
-do for Harvey. Oh, mother," the arms going about
-the fragile form in a passion of devotion, "it seems
-as if your troubles would never end; it's been one
-long round of care and struggle and pain for you
-ever since I can remember. And this last seems the
-worst, for I know how you've lived for Harvey. And
-it shan't all be for nothing; we'll get through with it
-somehow—I know we will."
-
-"You shouldn't pity me so, my daughter," and the
-mother's voice was as calm as the untroubled face.
-"I really don't think you know how much happiness
-I've had; I often feel there's nothing so close to joy
-as sorrow. And you and Harvey have been so good—and
-I'm so proud of him. The way's always been
-opened up for us; and God has strengthened me, and
-comforted me, beyond what I ever thought was possible.
-And besides, dear," the voice low and thrilling
-with the words that were to come, "besides, Jessie,
-I've had a wonderful feeling lately that it's getting
-near the light—it's like a long tunnel, but I've caught
-glimpses of beauty sometimes that tell me the long
-darkness is nearly over. Oh, my darling," she went
-on in the same thrilling voice, holding her close in a
-kind of rapture, "I never was so sure before—not
-even when I could see all around—never so sure—that
-it's all light after all, and my very darkness has
-been the light of God. I don't know why I should
-cry like this," she sobbed, for the tears were now
-falling fast, "for I'm really happy—even with all this
-new trouble; but for days and days lately I've kept
-saying to myself: 'They need no candle, neither
-light of the sun'—and I can't think of it without
-crying, because I know it's true."
-
-Very skillfully did Jessie endeavour to turn the
-conversation into other channels; her own sinking heart
-told her too well that her inmost thought was not far
-different from her mother's. For the dear face was
-daily growing more pale and thin, and the springs of
-vitality seemed to be slowly ebbing. But on this she
-would not permit her mind to dwell.
-
-"Don't you think we could get some bright girl to
-mind the shop, mother; some young girl, you know,
-that wouldn't cost very much? Because I've just
-been thinking—I've got a kind of a plan—I've been
-wondering if I couldn't make enough to help Harvey
-through. You know, mother, I can sew pretty
-well—Miss Adair told me only yesterday I managed
-quite as well as the girls with a regular training, and
-she just as much as offered me work. And I'll see
-her about it this very day; we could get some one to
-mind the shop for a great deal less than I could
-make—and Harvey could have the rest. You wouldn't
-object, would you, mother? I wouldn't go out to sew;
-some of the girls take the work home with them,
-and so could I. Or, if I was doing piece-work, I
-might be able to mind the store myself at the same
-time—there seems to be so little to do now," she
-added, looking a little ruefully towards the silent
-shop.
-
-The expression of pain deepened on the mother's
-face as she listened. Yet she did not demur,
-although the inner vision brought the tired features of
-the unselfish girl before her. "It seems hard," she
-said at length; "I was always hoping you'd soon
-have it a little easier—but this will only make it
-harder for you."
-
-"But not for long," Jessie interrupted cheerily;
-"just till Harvey's through—and then he'll be able
-to make lots of money. And maybe you and I'll be
-able to go away somewhere for a little rest," she
-added hopefully, her eyes resting long on the pallid
-face.
-
-"Harvey must never know," the mother suddenly
-affirmed; "we'll have to keep it from him, whatever
-happens, for I know he wouldn't consent to it for a
-moment. Where are you going, Jessie?" for she
-knew, her sense of every movement quickened by
-long exercise, that the girl was making preparations
-to go out.
-
-"I'm going to see Miss Adair, mother. I won't
-be long—but now that my mind's set on it, I can't
-rest till I find out. If I can only get that arranged,
-it'll make it so much brighter for us all."
-
-The mother sat alone with many conflicting
-thoughts, marvelling at all that so enriched her life,
-dark though it was, and bearing about with it a
-burden that no heart could share.
-
-Jessie's errand was successful, as such errands are
-prone to be; and only those who understand life's
-hidden streams could have interpreted the radiance
-on the maiden's face as she returned to announce her
-indenture unto toil, new gladness springing from new
-sacrifice, for such is the mysterious source whose
-waters God hath bidden to be blessed.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-David was absorbed in a very sober study as he
-walked slowly homeward. Not that he shrank from
-the personal sacrifice that his present circumstances
-were about to demand, or that any sense of dishonour
-clouded his thought of the business career that seemed
-about to close—from this he was absolutely free.
-But he was feeling, and for the first time, how keen
-the sting of defeat can be to a man whose long and
-valiant struggle against relentless odds has at last
-proved unavailing.
-
-Still reflecting on this and many other things, he
-suddenly heard himself accosted by a familiar voice;
-turning round, he saw Mr. Craig hurrying towards him.
-
-"Going home, Borland?" said the former as he
-came up with him; "I'll just walk along with you if
-you are—I want to talk to you."
-
-David's mind lost no time in its calculation as to
-what the subject of this conversation would likely
-be; during all his period of struggle, well known and
-widely discussed as it had been, Mr. Craig had never
-approached him before. David felt an unconscious
-stiffening of the lip, he scarce knew why.
-
-"I wanted to tell you, Borland, for one thing,"
-Mr. Craig began as they walked along, "how much
-I feel for you in the hard luck you're having."
-
-"Thank you kindly," said David promptly.
-
-"I don't suppose I'm just able to sympathize as
-well as lots of men could," Mr. Craig observed;
-"unbroken success doesn't fit one for that sort of thing."
-
-"Oh!" said David, volumes in the tone.
-
-"Well," said the other, not by any means oblivious
-to the intonation, "I suppose it does sound kind of
-egotistical—but I guess it's true just the same. I
-suppose I'm what might be called a successful man."
-
-"I reckon you might be *called* that, all right," said
-David, getting out his knife and glancing critically at a
-willow just ahead. The spirit of whittling invariably
-arose within him when his emotions were aroused.
-
-"What do you mean?" Mr. Craig enquired, a
-little ardently. He had noticed David's emphasis on
-one particular word.
-
-"I don't mean nothin'," responded David, making
-a willow branch his own.
-
-"You seem to doubt a little whether I've really
-been successful or not?" ventured the other,
-looking interrogatively at his companion.
-
-"Depends," said David laconically; "you've been
-terrible successful outside."
-
-"I don't just follow you," Mr. Craig declared with
-deliberate calmness. "I don't suppose we judge
-people by the inside of them—at least I don't."
-
-"I do," answered David nonchalantly. "A fellow
-can't help it—look at this here gad; it looked
-elegant from the outside," holding it up to show the
-wound his knife had made.
-
-"What's the matter with it?" Mr. Craig rejoined,
-pretending to look closely.
-
-"It's rotten," said David.
-
-"What do you mean by that?" Mr. Craig
-demanded rather more sharply.
-
-"I don't mean nothin'," responded David.
-
-"Then it hasn't anything to do with the question
-of success?"
-
-"That's an awful big question," David answered
-adroitly, "an' folks'll get a terrible jolt in their
-opinions about it some day, I reckon—like the rich
-fool got; an' he thought he was some pun'kins, too.
-Nobody can't tell jest who's a success," he went on,
-peeling the willow as he spoke. "I reckon folks
-calls me the holiest failure in these parts—but I'm a
-terrible success some ways," he went on calmly.
-
-"What ways?" Mr. Craig enquired rather too
-quickly for courtesy.
-
-"Oh, nothin' much—only under the bark—if it's
-anywheres," David jerked out, still vigorously
-employed on the willow. "But there ain't no good of
-pursuin' them kind of thoughts," he suddenly
-digressed, making a final slash at the now denuded
-branch; "they're too high-class for a fellow that
-never went to school after he left it—let's talk about
-somethin' worldly. They say you're goin' to be
-Glenallen's first mayor; goin' to open the ball—ain't
-that so?"
-
-Abating his pace, Mr. Craig drew closer to David,
-a pleased expression displacing the rather decided
-frown that had been gathering.
-
-"To tell the truth, now that you've mentioned it,"
-he began confidentially, "that's the very thing I
-wanted to talk about. Of course, there's no use in
-my pretending I don't want the office, for I do—the
-whole thing is in being the *first* mayor, you see, after
-Glenallen's incorporated. Kind of an historical event,
-you understand—and, and there seems to be a little
-misunderstanding," he went on a trifle hesitatingly,
-"between you and me. I find there's a tendency
-to—to elect you—that is, in some quarters," he
-explained, "and I thought we might come to a kind of
-an agreement, you understand."
-
-"What kind?" David asked innocently.
-
-"Oh, well, you understand. Of course, I know you
-wouldn't care for the office—not at present, at least.
-I've felt perfectly free to say as much whenever the
-matter was mentioned to me."
-
-"You're terrible cheerful about resignin' for other
-people," rejoined David with some spirit; "some
-folks is terrible handy at makin' free with other folks'
-affairs."
-
-"Oh, well, you know what I mean—you've got
-your hands full——"
-
-"They're not terrible full," David corrected dismally.
-
-"And besides, you see," Mr. Craig went bravely
-on, "you're not British born—you were born in
-Ohio, weren't you?"
-
-"Not much," David informed him; "there's no
-Buckeye about me—I was born in Abe Lincoln's
-State. Peoria's where I dawned—and he often used
-to stop at my father's house when he was attendin'
-court." David was evidently ready to be delivered
-of much further information, but the candidate had
-no mind to hear it.
-
-"Well, anyhow," he interrupted, "I think it'd be
-more fitting that the first mayor should have been
-born under the British flag. But you don't mean to
-say you think you'll stand?" he suddenly enquired,
-evidently determined to ascertain the facts without
-further parley.
-
-"Couldn't jest say," David replied with rather
-provoking deliberation; "you see, I'll have a good deal
-o' time lyin' round loose, now that I'm givin' up
-business for my health," this with a mournful grin.
-"So mebbe I'll be in the hands o' my friends—that
-there expression's one I made up myself," he added,
-turning a broad smile upon his friend's very sober face.
-Mr. Craig, to tell the exact truth, grew quite pale
-as he heard the ominous words. For his heart had
-been sorely set on the immortality the first
-mayorship of Glenallen would confer, and he knew how
-doubtful would be the issue of a contest between
-David and himself.
-
-"I was thinking," he began a little excitedly,
-"perhaps we could make some arrangement that
-would be—would be to our mutual advantage," he
-blurted out at last; "perhaps—perhaps I could give
-you a little lift; I could hardly expect you to
-withdraw for nothing. And now that you're in financial
-difficulties, so to speak, I thought perhaps a little
-quiet assistance mightn't go amiss."
-
-But David had come to a dead standstill, his eyes
-flashing as they fastened themselves on the other's
-face. "D'ye mean to say you're tryin' to bribe
-me?" he demanded, his voice husky.
-
-"Oh, no, Mr. Borland—oh, no, I only meant we
-might find common ground if——"
-
-"Common ground! Common scoundrelism!"
-David broke in vehemently; "you must think I'm
-devilish poor, Mr. Craig," his voice rising with his
-emotion, "an' it appears to me a man has to be sunk
-mighty low afore he could propose what you've
-done. I've bore a heap, God knows—but no man
-never dared insult me like this afore; if that's one o'
-the things you've got to do if you're pure British
-stock, then I thank the Lord I'm a mongrel."
-
-"Be calm, Mr. Borland," implored his friend
-suavely, "you don't understand."
-
-"I understand all right," shouted David; "a man
-don't need much breedin' of any kind to understand
-the likes o' you—you want a man that's lost all he's
-got, to sell himself into the bargain," the withered
-cheek burning hot as David made his arraignment.
-
-"Now, Mr. Borland, do be reasonable—I mean
-nothing of the sort. I only wanted to give you a
-helping hand—of course, if you can do without
-it——"
-
-"Yes, thank God," and David's voice was quite
-shaky, "I can do without it all right. I can do
-without your dirty money—-an' everybody else's for that
-matter—but I can't do without a conscience that
-ain't got no blot on it, an' I can't do without a clean
-name like my father left it to me," he went hotly
-on, his flushed face and swift-swallowing throat
-attesting how deeply he felt what he was saying.
-
-"Oh, come now, Borland," Mr. Craig urged, reaching
-out a hand towards his shoulder, "come off your
-high horse—preachin' isn't your strong point, you
-know."
-
-"I ain't preachin'," David retorted vigorously.
-"I'm practisin'—an' that's a horse of a different
-colour," he added, casting about to recall the
-amiability that had almost vanished.
-
-"There's no need for any trouble between us,
-Borland," Mr. Craig began blandly; "'twouldn't be
-seemly, considering all that's liable to happen—if
-things go on as they're likely to," he added
-significantly. "We'll need to be on the best of terms if
-we're going to be relations, you know."
-
-"What's that you're sayin'?—relations, did you
-say?" David was quite at a loss to understand, and
-yet a dim fear, suggested not so long before, passed
-for a moment through his mind.
-
-"Yes, relations," returned Mr. Craig, smiling
-amiably; "these young folks have a way of making
-people relations without consulting them—at least,
-till they've gone and settled it themselves. I guess
-you understand all right."
-
-A hot flush flowed over David's cheek. "Do you—do
-you mean my Madeline?" he stammered, staring
-like one who did not see.
-
-"Well, maybe—but I mean my Cecil just as much.
-All this won't make any difference to Cecil."
-
-"What won't?" David groped, the words coming
-as if unguided, his thoughts gone on another mission.
-
-"Oh, these little difficulties of yours—all this
-financial tangle, I mean; your failure, as they call it
-round town. That'll never budge Cecil."
-
-The men were still standing, neither thinking of
-direction or of progress. But David moved close
-up to the other, his eyes fixed on the shrewd face
-with relentless sternness.
-
-"It don't need to make no difference," he said
-through set teeth. "There ain't nothin' to get
-different—if you mean your son, Craig—or if you mean
-my daughter, Craig," the words prancing out like a
-succession of mettled steeds; "either you or him's
-the biggest fool God ever let loose. There ain't no
-human power, nor no other kind, can jine them two
-together. Perhaps I'll have to go beggin'—but I'll
-take Madeline along with me afore she'll ever go
-down the pike with any one like your Cecil, as you
-call him." David paused for breath.
-
-"She'd be mighty lucky if she got him," Cecil's
-father retorted haughtily. "One would think you
-were the richest man in the county to hear you
-talk."
-
-David's face was closer than ever. "Craig," he
-said, his voice low and taut, "there's mebbe some
-that's good enough for Madeline—I ain't a-sayin'—but
-th' Almighty never made no man yet that my
-daughter'd be lucky if she got. An' I know I'm
-poor; an' I know I've got to take to the tall timbers
-out o' there—where she was born," the words coming
-with a little gulp as he pointed in the direction of his
-home, "but I'm a richer man, Craig, than you ever
-knew how to be. An' you can go back to your
-big house, an' I'm goin' to hunt a little one for
-us—but I wouldn't trade you if every pebble on your
-carriage drive was gold. An' I'm happier'n you
-ever knew how to be. An' your Cecil can't never
-have our Madeline. An' when it comes to budgin',
-like you was talkin' about, I reckon I can do my
-share of not budgin', Craig—an' you can put that in
-your pipe an' smoke it."
-
-David started to move on; he was panting just a
-little. But Mr. Craig stopped him; and the sneer in
-his words was quite noticeable:
-
-"I suppose you'll be giving her to your charity
-student—she'll be head clerk in the Simmons' store
-yet, I shouldn't wonder."
-
-David was not difficult to detain. He stared hard
-for a moment before speaking. "Mebbe they're
-poor," he said at length, "an' mebbe his blind mother
-has to skimp an' save—that settles any one for you
-all right. But it wouldn't take me no longer to
-decide between that there charity student an' your son,
-than it would to decide—to decide between you an'
-God," he concluded hotly, turning and starting
-resolutely on his way. "Now you know my ideas about
-success," he flung over his shoulder as he pressed on;
-"you're a success, you know, a terrible success—I'm
-a failure, thank heaven," his face set steadfastly
-towards home, bright with the hallowed light that,
-thought of his treasure there kept burning through
-all life's storm and darkness.
-
-But Mr. Craig fired the last shot. "I wish you
-luck with the coming-out party," he called after him
-mockingly; "be sure and have it worthy of the
-young lady—and of her father's fortune," he added,
-the tone indicating what satisfaction the thrust
-afforded him.
-
-David answered never a word. But the taunt
-set him pondering, nevertheless; once or twice he
-stopped almost still, though his pace was brisk, and
-something in his face reflected the purpose forming
-within him. When he reached his home he found
-Madeline and her mother together; they were still
-employed with the sombre task of selecting what
-should be the survivors among their domestic treasures.
-
-"How did Mrs. Simmons take it?" Madeline
-asked almost impatiently, as he drew her down in
-the chair beside him.
-
-"She took it like as if she believed in God,"
-David answered solemnly; "an' she took it that way
-'cause she does—that's more," he added emphatically.
-"But I've got somethin' to say—somethin'
-important."
-
-Both waited eagerly to hear. "Tell me quick,"
-said Madeline.
-
-"Well, it's this. I don't want nothin' touched
-here—not till after what I'm goin' to tell you. We'll
-have to waltz out o' here, of course," he said, looking
-gravely around the room; "but it'll be some
-considerable time yet—an' as long as we're here, we'll be
-here, see? An' we're goin' to have your comin'-out
-party, Madeline—we're goin' to have it the last night.
-So it'll be a comin'-out party, an' a goin'-out one, at
-the same time—ain't that an elegant idea? An' it'll
-be a dandy, too—there'll be high jinks till nobody
-can't see anybody else for dust. An' we're goin' to
-have things jest like they are now—no use o' kickin'
-down your scaffold till you're through with it," he
-concluded, chucking Madeline under the chin in his
-jubilation.
-
-Madeline and her mother gasped a little as they
-exchanged glances. Mrs. Borland was the first to
-speak. "Don't you think it'll throw a gloom over
-everything, David, when everybody'll know
-what—what's going to happen?"
-
-"If anybody begins that kind o' throwin', I'll throw
-them out sideways," David replied fiercely. "Most
-certainly it won't. Everybody'd always be slingin'
-gloom round, if that'd do it—'cause nobody ever
-knows what's goin' to happen any time. Leastways,
-nobody only One—an' He ain't never gloomy, for
-all He knows. Anyhow, nothin' ain't goin' to
-happen—'cept to the furniture," he added scornfully,
-glancing at the doomed articles that stood about.
-
-"One good thing," Madeline suggested radiantly,
-"there'll be nothing to hide—everybody'll know
-they're expected to be jolly."
-
-"Sure thing!" echoed David, utterly delighted.
-"I'm goin' to have that on the invitations—there
-ain't goin' to be no 'Answer P.D.Q.' on the
-left-hand corner; I'm goin' to have somethin' else—I'm
-goin' to have what that cove on the tavern sheds
-yelled through the megaphone: 'If you can't laugh
-don't come.' I often told you about him, didn't I?—well,
-that's the prescription's goin' to be on the
-admission tickets."
-
-Considerable further dialogue was terminated by a
-very serious question from the prospective débutante.
-"Won't it look kind of strange, father?" she ventured
-rather timidly, "going to all that expense—just at
-this particular time?"
-
-David put his arms about her very tenderly, smiling
-down into the sober face. "There ain't goin' to be
-no champagne, Madeline," he said quietly, "nor no
-American beauties—there'll jest be one of heaven's
-choicest. It'll be an awful simple party—an' awful
-sweet. An' music don't cost nothin'; neither does
-love, nor friends, nor welcomes—the best things is
-the cheapest. An' I'll show them all one thing," he
-went on very gravely, his eyes filling as they were
-bended on his child, "one thing that ain't expensive—but
-awful dear," the words faltering as they left his lips.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`THE VICTOR'S SPOILS`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXIV
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *THE VICTOR'S SPOILS*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"Of course you ought to go. I've got a kind
-of feeling, though I don't know why, that
-the whole party will be spoiled if you're
-not there."
-
-"Spoiled! Spoiled for whom?"
-
-"Oh, for somebody—I guess you know all right."
-
-It was Miss Farringall who was pressing her advice
-so vigorously; Harvey the beneficiary. They were
-seated in the little room in which they had first met,
-everything in the same perfect order, the fire still
-singing its song of unconquerable cheer, the antique
-desk in the corner still guarding its hidden secrets.
-The domestic Grey, the added dignity of years upon
-him, had come to regard the one-time intruder with
-almost the same affection that he lavished on his
-mistress in his own devoted, purring way. He was
-slumbering now on Harvey's knee, and, could he
-have interpreted the significance of human glances,
-he might have seen the fondness with which the
-woman's eyes were often turned upon the manly
-face beside her.
-
-"If I thought Miss Borland really wanted me to
-come," mused Harvey.
-
-"Maybe Miss Borland doesn't care very much,"
-his friend retorted quickly, "but I'm sure Madeline
-wants you," her eyebrows lifted reproachfully as she
-spoke.
-
-Harvey smiled in return. "Of course, it would
-give me a chance to see mother," he said reflectively;
-"and Jessie says she's very poorly. Perhaps I really
-ought to go—Jessie's quite anxious about her."
-
-"I think both reasons are good ones," Miss
-Farringall said after a little silence. "Do you know,
-Harvey," she went on, a shade almost of sadness
-coming over her face, "I feel more and more that
-there's only one thing in life worth gaining—and one
-should never trifle with it. If you lose that, you lose
-everything—no matter how much else you may have
-of money, or luxury—even of friends," she said
-decisively; "even of friends—if you miss that other."
-
-Harvey, slightly at a loss, fumbled about for
-something to say. "You have everything that money
-can provide, Miss Farringall—and that's a good
-deal," he added, magnifying the lonely asset as best
-he could.
-
-"Yes, perhaps I have—and maybe it is," she said
-as if to herself. Then neither spoke for a long
-interval. But finally Miss Farringall turned towards
-Harvey with a peculiar expression, as if she had just
-come to a decision after much inward debate.
-
-"Would you like to hear something I've never
-told any one else?" she said impressively—"not
-even to the rector. He has a second wife," she
-explained, smiling, "and they're always dangerous."
-
-"If you wish to trust me with it," was Harvey's
-answer.
-
-"Well, I will—and you'll tell me whether I did
-right or not. It's not a long story, and I'll tell it as
-directly as I can. It's about a man—a gentleman,"
-she corrected. "No, I never loved him—doesn't this
-language sound strange from me?" as she noticed
-the surprise on Harvey's face. "But it was—it was
-different with him. He was a married man, too.
-And his wife was very rich—richer than he was.
-And she hated him—they lived in the same house,
-but that was all; a proud, selfish woman; so selfish,
-she was."
-
-Miss Farringall rose and moved to the window,
-gazing long on the leafy scene about her. The
-silence was broken suddenly by the butler's voice,
-his approach as noiseless as ever.
-
-"Please, Miss Farringall, the rector's here—he's in
-the hall. And he wants to know——"
-
-"Tell him he can't," Miss Farringall said softly,
-without turning her eyes from the window.
-
-"Yes, mum," as the impassive countenance vanished.
-
-Harvey did not speak, did not even look towards
-the silent figure at the window. He knew, and
-waited. Presently the woman turned and silently
-resumed her chair.
-
-"It was different with him, as I said," she slowly
-began again—"not that I ever encouraged him; it
-terrified me when I found it out. Well, one day when we
-were alone together, he—he forgot himself," a slight
-tremor of the gentle form and a deep flush upon the
-cheek betokening the vividness of the memory.
-"And I fled from him—and I vowed we should
-never meet again," the sad face lighting up with the
-echo of a far-off purpose. "And I kept the vow for
-years," she went on, gazing into the fire—for there it
-is that the dead years, embalmed of mystic forces, may
-be seen by sorrow-brightened eyes.
-
-Harvey waited again, silent still. And once again
-the strange narrative was resumed. "But I broke it
-at last," she said. "He was dying—a slow, painful
-disease. And he had everything money could give
-him; he had everything that anybody wants—except
-that one thing. His wife went on in her old, idle,
-fashionable way, caring nothing, of course. Well,
-one day he sent for me—it was his wife who brought
-the message; she knew nothing of what had happened,
-of course, and she told me of his request and
-asked me if I wouldn't come and sit with him
-sometimes. And I went—I went often—used to read to
-him; many different books at first, mostly poetry—but
-as it came nearer the end it was hardly ever
-anything but the Bible.... The end came at last.
-And just the day before he died he said to me: 'It'll
-be to-morrow—to-morrow about this time.' Then
-he took a big envelope from under his pillow, and he
-said: 'This'll be good-bye; God bless you for what
-you've been to a dying man. And I want you to do
-this. I want you to come to my grave a year from
-the night of the day I'm buried—and open this
-envelope there—but not for a year.' And we said
-good-bye. Well, I couldn't refuse the request of a dying
-man—I did as he asked me. But I waited a year
-and four days, Harvey," and Miss Farringall's voice
-was quite triumphant; "I waited that long because I
-knew no man would believe a woman could do it....
-And that's how I'm situated as I am, Harvey.
-I don't think anybody ever knew—I guess nobody
-cared; principally stocks, simply transferred. Do
-you think I did right, Harvey?" she asked after a
-pause.
-
-"Yes," said Harvey quickly, unable to take his
-eyes from her face.
-
-"Not that the envelope ever did me very much
-good," she went on. "I often think how much happier
-I'd have been if I'd been poor—and had had that
-other. But it wasn't to be. And all this never made
-me happy—there was only one could have done
-that; and he went out of my life long ago—long ago
-now," she said, her gaze scanning his face in wistful
-scrutiny, her heart busy with the photograph
-entombed in the silent desk before her.
-
-"So I think you certainly ought to go, as I said,"
-she resumed, quietly reverting to the original topic.
-"I know the signs," she added in plaintive
-playfulness—"even if they do call me an old maid; I
-shouldn't wonder if they know the signs best of
-all. But this is all nonsense," straightening herself
-resolutely in her chair, "and has nothing to do
-with what we're talking about. When is the party,
-Harvey?"
-
-"It's Friday night week—the very day after I
-graduate. And they leave the old home the next
-day—I told you all about Mr. Borland's failure. It
-seems they've been prepared to leave for some
-months—and now it's actually come. Mr. Borland
-gave up everything to his creditors, I believe. And
-this is a notion of his own—just like him, too—that
-they'll celebrate the last night in their old home this
-way; he's going to have Madeline's coming-out
-party for a finish. Quite an original idea, isn't it?"
-
-"Will that young fellow from your town be
-there?—Mr. Craig, you know?" asked Miss Farringall,
-without answering his question. She did not look
-at Harvey as she asked her own.
-
-"Oh, yes," Harvey answered, "he'll be there, of
-course—he's very attentive." Harvey's eyes were
-also turned away.
-
-"Who's he attentive to?"
-
-"Why, to Miss Borland—to Madeline, of course.
-He's been that for a long time."
-
-"Are you sure?"
-
-"Yes. At least, I suppose so. Why?" Harvey
-asked wonderingly.
-
-"Oh, nothing much—only I heard his affections
-were divided; another Glenallen girl, I heard."
-
-"What was the name?" asked Harvey, interestedly.
-
-"I did hear, I think—it doesn't matter. Please
-don't ask me any more—really, I'm ashamed of myself,
-I'm getting to be such a silly old gossip. Tell
-me, are you going to get the medal when you
-graduate?"
-
-The look on the face before her showed that the
-conversation had turned his thoughts towards
-something more absorbing than college premiums,
-covetable though they be; he too was coming to realize
-that life has only one great prize, and but one deep
-source of springing joy.
-
-"I have my doubts about the medal," Harvey answered
-after a pause; "I'm afraid of Echlin—but I'll
-give him a race for it. I think I'm sure of my
-degree, all right. That's another reason inclines me to
-go home next week," he added cheerfully; "I want
-to give my sheepskin to my mother; it's more hers
-and Jessie's than it is mine—and I want them to see
-my hood, too, when I get one; and the medal," his
-face brightening, "if I should have the luck to win
-it. But there's another thing that troubles me a
-little," he added with a dolorous smile, "and that is
-that I haven't got anything to wear, as the ladies
-say. I haven't a dress suit, you know—and I'm
-afraid anything else'll be a little conspicuous there."
-
-Miss Farringall smiled the sweetest, saddest smile,
-as she turned her face to Harvey's. "Oh, child," she
-said, "you're very young; and you're certainly very
-unfamiliar with the woman-heart. A girl doesn't
-care a fig for dress suits—I think they rather
-admire men who dress originally," she went on
-assuringly; "I know I did, then. And besides, it's all to
-your credit that you haven't one—I think that's one
-of the fine things about you, that you haven't got so
-many things you might have had, if you'd been a
-little more selfish," she said, almost fondly.
-
-"Talk about not being selfish," Harvey broke in
-ardently; "I'm a monster of selfishness compared to
-some others I could name—you ought to see my
-mother and my sister," he concluded proudly.
-
-"I hope I may some day," she answered. "But
-meantime—about what you'll wear. I'd wear the
-medal if I were you. But tell me first," she went
-on in a woman's own persistent way, "that you'll
-accept the invitation. Can't you make up your mind?"
-
-Harvey was silent for a moment. "No," came his
-answer decisively, "I don't think I will. I'm going
-to decline with thanks—self-denial's good for a fellow
-sometimes."
-
-"Some kinds of self-denial are sinful," said Miss
-Farringall quietly; "but they bring their own
-punishment—and it lasts for years." She sighed, and
-the light upon her face was half of yearning, half of
-love.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"Is our Tam hame frae Edinburgh yet?" Such
-were the last wandering words of an aged brother of
-the great Carlyle, dying one summer night as the
-Canadian sun shed its glory for the last time upon
-his face. Thrice twenty years had flown since,
-fraternal pride high surging in his heart, he had clung
-to his mother's skirts while she waited at the bend of
-the road for the returning Tom. Carrying his shoes,
-lest they be needlessly worn, was that laddie wont to
-come from the halls of learning where he had scanned
-the page of knowledge with a burning heart—carrying
-his shoes, but with his laurels thick upon
-him, his advent the golden incident to that humble
-home in all their uneventful year. And in death's
-magic hour the thrilling scene was reënacted as the
-brother heart of the far-wandered one roamed back
-to the halcyon days of boyhood.
-
-The same spirit of pride, the same devotion of
-love, brooded over the happy circle as Harvey sat
-this placid evening between his mother and sister in
-the home that had furnished him so little of luxury,
-so much of welcome and of love. He was home,
-and he was theirs. Trembling joy mingled with the
-mother's voice as now and then she broke in with
-kindly speech upon the story Harvey found himself
-telling again and again. The story was of his career
-in general, and of the last great struggle in particular;
-how he had shut himself up to his work in a final
-spasm of devotion, pausing only to eat and sleep till
-the final trials were over and the victory won. And
-the great day, his graduation day, was described over
-and over, both listeners in a transport of excitement
-while he told, modestly as he might, of the ovation
-that had greeted him when he was called forward to
-receive his hard-won honours.
-
-"And you're a B.A., Harvey, now—a real B.A.,
-aren't you, Harvey?" Jessie cried ecstatically. "It
-seems almost too good to be true."
-
-Harvey merely smiled; but his mother spoke for
-him. "Of course he is," she answered quietly; "it'll
-be on all his letters. But the medal, Harvey—oh,
-my son, I always knew you'd win it," her voice low
-and triumphant. "I can hardly just believe it; out
-of all those students—with their parents so rich and
-everything—that my own son carried it off from them
-all. And has it your name on it, Harvey?—with the
-degree on it too?" she enquired eagerly.
-
-"Of course," said Harvey, "it's in my trunk—and
-my hood's there too; they're both there, mother. It's
-a beautiful hood—and I'll show them to you if
-you'll wait a moment," he exclaimed impulsively,
-rising as he spoke.
-
-But his eyes met Jessie's and a darkness like
-the darkness of death fell upon them both. Jessie
-was trembling from head to foot, her hand going
-up instinctively to her face as if she had been
-struck. Harvey's pale cheek and quivering lips
-betrayed the agony that wrung him.
-
-"Forgive me, mother," his broken voice implored
-as he flung himself down beside her, his arms
-encircling her; "forgive me, my mother—I forgot, oh,
-I forgot," as he stroked the patient face with infinite
-gentleness, his hands caressing the delicate cheeks
-again and again.
-
-"He didn't mean it, mother—he didn't mean it,"
-Jessie cried, drawing near to them; "he just forgot,
-mother—he just forgot," the words throbbing with
-love for both.
-
-But the mother's voice was untouched by pain.
-"Don't grieve like that, my darling," she pleaded,
-pressing Harvey's hands close to her cheek; "I know
-it was nothing, my son—I know just how it
-happened. And why will you mourn so for me, my
-children?" she went on in calm and tender tones,
-her arms encircling both. "Surely I've given you
-no reason for this—haven't I often told you how
-bright it is about me? And something makes me
-sure it's getting near the light. Don't you remember,
-dear, how the doctor said it might all come
-suddenly?—and I feel it's coming, coming fast; I feel
-sure God's leading me near the light."
-
-"Are you, mother?" Harvey asked. The question
-came simply, earnestly, almost awesomely.
-
-"Yes, dear; yes, I'm sure."
-
-"We always asked for that. Harvey and I have,
-every day—haven't we, Harvey?" Jessie broke in
-eagerly.
-
-Harvey nodded, his gaze still on his mother's face.
-For the light that sat upon it in noble calm entranced
-him. No words could have spoken more plainly of
-the far-off source that kindled it; and a dim, holy
-sense of the grandeur of her outlook, the loftiness of
-her peace, the eternal warrant of her claim, took
-possession of his soul. The beauty that clothed
-her was not of time; and no words of tender
-dissembling could conceal the exultant hope that
-bespoke how the days of her darkness should be ended.
-
-The silence was broken by his mother's voice.
-"Go and get them, Harvey—bring your medal
-and your hood. Bring them to your mother, my
-son," she said, as she released him to do her bidding.
-
-He was gone but a moment; returning, he bore in
-one hand the golden token, his name inwoven with
-its gleam. The other held his academic hood, its
-mystic white and purple blending to attest the
-scholar's station; he had thrown his college gown
-about him.
-
-Mutely standing, he placed the medal in his
-mother's hands. They shook as they received it,
-the thin fingers dumbly following its inscription, both
-hands enclosing it tightly, thrilling to the glad
-sensation. Then he held the hood out towards her,
-stammering some poor explanation of its material and its
-meaning.
-
-"Put it on, Harvey," she said.
-
-He swiftly slipped it about his neck, the flowing
-folds falling down from his shoulders. Involuntarily
-he bended before his mother, and the poor white
-hands went out in loving quest of the dear-bought
-symbol, tracing its form from end to end, lingering
-fondly over every fold. She spoke no word—but
-the trembling fingers still roved about the glowing
-laurel as her scholar boy stood silent before her, and
-the hot tears fell thick and fast upon it. For the
-memory of other days, days of poverty and stress; and
-the vision of the childish face as she had last beheld
-it; and the thought of all the hidden struggle, more
-bitter than he ever knew, that had thus brought back
-her once unknown child in triumph to his mother's
-home—back, too, in unchanged devotion and unabated
-love, to lay his trophies at the feet of her who
-bore him—all these started the burning tears that
-trickled so fast from the unseeing eyes and fell in
-holy stains upon the spotless emblem.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Clocks are the very soul of cruelty, relentless most
-when loving hearts most wish that they would stay
-their hands. The ebbing moments, inconsiderate of
-all but duty, tell off the hours of our gladness, even
-of sacramental gladness, with unpitying faithfulness.
-And yet, strange as it may seem, how blessed is the
-law that will not let us know when the last precious
-moments are on the wing! How often do devoted
-hearts toy with them carelessly, or waste them in
-unthinking levity, or drug them with unneeded slumber,
-or squander them in wanton silence, as though they
-were to last forever! How the most prodigal would
-garner them, and the most frivolous employ, if it
-were only known that these are the last golden sands
-that glisten their parting message before they glide
-into the darkness!
-
-We may not know. As these two did not; and
-the last unconscious hour was spent in the company
-of another. "It's so good of you to come and sit
-with me, Miss Adair, while the children are at the
-party," was Mrs. Simmons' welcome to the kindly
-acquaintance as she entered. "Jessie's going on
-ahead—she promised to give Madeline some little
-help, so she had to go earlier. Won't you need to
-be starting soon, Harvey?"
-
-"I'm going just in a minute, mother," her son
-answered. "And you should have seen our Jessie,"
-he digressed, turning to their visitor. "She never
-looked sweeter in her life. And the dress that she
-had on, she made it herself, she said—I didn't know
-Jessie was so accomplished."
-
-"Oh, Jessie's made many a—she's made many
-an admirer, by her dresses," the adroit Miss Adair
-concluded, noticing a quick movement of Mrs. Simmons
-in her direction, and suddenly recalling the
-injunction she had forgotten.
-
-"I'm so sorry her flowers were withered," Harvey
-broke in, quite unconscious of what had been averted.
-"I sent her some from the city—but they were so
-wilted when they came that I didn't want her to take
-them."
-
-"Wait a minute, Harvey—I'll go with you a step
-or two," his mother interrupted as her son stooped
-to bid her good-night. "Please excuse me, Miss
-Adair; I'll be back in a minute," taking Harvey's
-arm as he turned towards the door.
-
-"It was so thoughtful of you to send those flowers
-to Jessie," she said as they moved slowly along the
-silent street; "she was quite enraptured when they
-came."
-
-"I sent some to—to Madeline too," Harvey informed
-her hesitatingly. "You see, I didn't expect,
-till this morning, to go to the party at all—and I
-wrote Madeline declining. So she isn't expecting me.
-Jessie promised not to tell her I had changed my
-mind; and in my letter I told Madeline I was sending
-the flowers in my place—but I'm afraid they'll
-be withered too. What's the matter, mother?" for
-her whole weight seemed suddenly to come upon his arm.
-
-"Nothing, dear; nothing much," she said, a little
-pantingly. "Let us sit here a minute," sinking on
-an adjoining step. "I've had these off and on lately,"
-she added, trying to smile. "I'm better now—the
-doctor says it's some little affection of the heart. I
-guess it's just a rush of happiness," she suggested
-bravely, smiling as she turned her face full on
-Harvey's.
-
-"I'm so happy, my son—so proud and happy.
-You've done so well; and God has watched over you
-so wonderfully—and protected you." Then her voice
-fell almost to a whisper, faltering with the words she
-wanted to speak, yet shrank from uttering. These
-spoken, she listened as intently as if for the footfall
-of approaching death.
-
-"No, mother," he answered low, "no, never once
-since—yet I won't say I haven't felt it; I know I
-have, more than once. If I'm where it is—even if I
-catch the odour of liquor—the appetite seems to
-come back. And it frightened me terribly; it was
-like the baying of hounds," drawing closer as he
-spoke.
-
-"That's like what your father used to say," she
-whispered, quivering.
-
-"But never once, mother—never a single time, since.
-I've always remembered that first night you came
-into my room—and that other time."
-
-"And I," she cried eagerly, "haven't I? I've
-been there many a night since then, when Jessie
-was asleep—I used to try and imagine it was you,
-Harvey," she said, turning her face on his in the
-uncertain light.
-
-The gentle colloquy flowed on while the shadows
-deepened about the whispering pair, the one happy
-because youth's radiance overshone his path, the other
-peaceful because a deeper, truer light was gathering
-in her heart. One cloud, and one alone, impaired
-the fullness of his joy; and that was, what even his
-hopeful heart could not deny, that his mother's
-strength was obviously less than when he had seen
-her last. But all the devotion of the years seemed
-gathered up into this gracious hour; the mother,
-mysteriously impelled, seemed loath to let the
-interview be at an end, though she knew Harvey must
-soon be gone.
-
-"You'd better hurry now, dear," she said when their
-own door was reached; "no, no, I can go in alone
-all right—on with you to the party, Harvey; they
-can't any of them be happier than I am to-night.
-And tell Madeline, for me, there's only one chick
-like mine in the world—and whoever gets——"
-
-The remainder of the message was lost in laughing
-protest as the good-byes were said; the mother
-stole softly in to her patient guest, her son hurrying
-on to the gathering revelry.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`WHAT MADE THE BALL SO FINE?`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXV
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *WHAT MADE THE BALL SO FINE?*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Harvey could not forbear to indulge a
-glance through the flaming windows as he
-drew near the house. He noted, a little
-ruefully it must be said, that almost every gentleman
-guest was attired after the conventional fashion he
-had predicted; but a moment's reasoning repelled
-any threatening embarrassment with scorn. Pressing
-bravely on, he had soon deposited his hat and
-coat, and after a minute or two of waiting in the
-dressing-room began his descent of the stairs to
-mingle with the animated scene.
-
-Looking down, one of the first to be descried
-was David Borland himself, as blithe and cheerful as
-though he were beginning, rather than concluding,
-his sojourn in the spacious house. He was chatting
-earnestly with Dr. Fletcher, interrupting the
-conversation now and then to greet some new-arriving
-guest. Near him was his wife, absorbed in the pleasant
-duty of receiving the steadily increasing throng
-who were to taste for the last time the hospitality for
-which that home had long been famous.
-
-But all others, and there were many whom Harvey
-recognized at a glance, were soon forgotten as his
-eyes rested on one whose face, suddenly appearing,
-filled all the room with light. For Madeline was
-making her way into the ample hall, flushed and
-radiant; her brow, never so serene before, was slightly
-moistened from the evening's warmth, while the
-wonderful hair, still bright and sunny, glistened in
-the softly shaded light. Aglow with excitement, her
-cheeks seemed to boast a colour he had never seen
-before, the delicate pink and white blending as on
-the face of childhood; and the splendid eyes, crowning
-all, were suffused with feeling. The significance
-of the hour and the animation of the scene united to
-create a sort of chastened mirthfulness, brimming
-with dignity and hope, yet still revealing how seriously
-she recognized the vicissitude time had brought,
-how well she knew the import of the change already
-at the door.
-
-Harvey stood still on the landing, gazing down
-unobserved, his eyes never turning from the face
-whose beauty seemed to unfold before him as he
-stood. Yet not mere beauty, either—he did not
-think of beauty, nor would he have so described
-what charmed him with a strange thrill he had never
-owned before—but the rich expression, rather, of an
-inward life that had deepened and mellowed with the
-years. Great sense was there, for one thing—and in
-the last appeal this feature of womanhood is
-irresistible to a truly manly heart; and her face spoke
-of love, large and generous, as if the weary and the
-troubled would ever find in her a friend; cheerfulness,
-courage, hope, the dignity of purity, the sweetness
-that marks those who have been cherished but not
-pampered and indulged but not petted, all combined
-to provide a loveliness of countenance that fairly
-ravished his heart as he peered through spreading
-palms upon the unconscious face beneath.
-
-Yet the joy he felt was not unmingled. For he
-could see, as a moment later he did see, that other
-eyes were turned with equal ardour in the same
-direction as his own. Madeline's appearance was a
-kind of triumphal entry; and there followed her,
-willing courtiers, two or three of the gallants of the
-place, whose function it evidently was to bear the
-glorious groups of flowers that various admirers had
-sent. Harvey's face darkened a little as he noted
-that Cecil was among them; though, to tell the truth,
-his seemed the most careless gaze of all—if admiration
-marked it, it was hungry admiration and nothing
-more. But the flowers he was carrying were pure;
-he had asked leave to carry them—and they
-themselves could not protest, shrink as they might from
-the unfitting hand. Others, nobler spirits, had
-burdens of equal fragrance, all fresh and beautiful as
-became the object of their homage.
-
-Slowly Harvey moved down the stairs. The proprieties
-were forgotten—all else as well—as he passed
-Mr. and Mrs. Borland by, the one glancing at him
-with obvious admiration, the other with impatient
-questioning. He was standing close in front of
-Madeline before she knew that he was there at all;
-suddenly raising her head as she turned from speaking
-with a friend, the soulful eyes fell full on his.
-She did her best—but the tides of life are strong and
-willful, and this one overswept the swift barrier she
-strove to interpose, as straws are swept before a
-storm. And the flood outpoured about him, surging
-as it smote the passion that leaped to meet it, the
-silent tumult beating like sudden pain on heart and
-ears and eyes, its mingled agony and rapture engulfing
-him till everything seemed to swim before him
-as before a drunken man.
-
-What voices silent things possess! And how God
-speaks through dull inanimate creatures as by the
-living lips of love! And what tell-tale tongues have
-the most trivial things to peal out life's holiest
-messages! For he saw—dimly at first and with a
-kind of shock, then clearly and with exultant
-certainty—he saw what was in her hand. It was only
-a bunch of simple flowers; but they were sorry
-looking things compared to their rivals whose fragrance
-filled the air, and the languor of death was upon
-them—yes, thank God, their bloom was faded, their
-freshness gone. For he recognized them, he knew
-them; and in the swift foment of his mind he even
-saw again the hard commercial face of the man from
-whom he had bought them, again the hard spared
-coins he had extracted from the poor total his
-poverty had left him, his heart the while leaping within
-him as though it could stand imprisonment no more.
-Dimly, vaguely, he saw behind her the noble clusters
-that other hands had sent—but other hands than hers
-were bearing them—and his were in her own, in the
-one that was bared in careless beauty as her glove
-hung indifferent from the wrist, unconscious of all that
-had displaced it. Careless observers had doubtless
-noted the dying flowers, marvelled mayhap; they
-knew not how instinct they were with life, how
-fadeless against the years their memory was to sweeten
-and enrich.
-
-He stood silent a moment with his hand half-outstretched,
-his eyes divided between the flowers beneath
-and the face above. His soul outpoured itself
-through them in a riot of joy he had neither desire
-nor power to restrain. Madeline stood like some
-lovely thing at bay, her eyes aglow, their message
-half of high reproach and half of passionate welcome.
-
-"You told me you weren't coming," she said in
-protesting tones, the words audible to no one but
-himself; "and I didn't expect you," her lips parted,
-her breath coming fast and fitfully, as though she
-were exhausted in the chase. Her radiant face was
-glorified—she knew it not—by the rich tides of
-life that leaped and bounded there, disporting
-themselves in the hour they had awaited long. Yet her
-whole attitude was marked by a strange aloofness,
-the wild air of liberty that is assumed by captive
-things; and her voice was almost controlled again as
-she repeated her remark.
-
-"You said you weren't coming;" the words voiced
-an interrogative.
-
-"So I did," he acknowledged, his eyes roaming
-about her face; "but I came," he added absently, a
-heavenly stupidity possessing him.
-
-"How's your mother?" she asked, struggling back.
-
-"She's not at all well," he answered, the tone full
-of real meaning; for this was a realm as sacred to
-him as the other.
-
-She was trying to replace her glove, the latter
-stubbornly resisting.
-
-"Please button this for me," as she held out her
-arm. He tried eagerly enough; but his hand
-trembled like an aspen. Her own was equally unsteady,
-and progress was divinely slow. He paused, looking
-helplessly up into her face; her hand fell by her side.
-Before either knew that he was near, Cecil's voice
-broke in: "Allow me, Madeline," he said; "I'm an
-old hand at operations like this—I'll do it for you,
-Madeline," as though he gloried in the name, and
-almost before she knew it he had seized her arm,
-swiftly accomplishing his purpose.
-
-Madeline was regal now, her very pose marked by
-unconscious pride. "Thank you," she said, still
-sweetly, "but I don't believe I want it fastened
-now—it's quite warm here, isn't it?" and with a quick
-gesture she slipped it from her hand, moving forward
-towards her father. Harvey stood still where he was;
-but the new heaven and the new earth had come.
-
-The evening wore on; nor could any gathering
-have been enriched with more of feeling than
-pervaded the triumphant hours. All seemed to forget
-the occasion that had convened them, remembering
-nothing but the valued friends who were still to be
-their own, even if outward circumstances were about
-to undergo the change so defiantly acknowledged.
-The crowning feature came when the simple supper
-was finished and the table partially cleared; for
-they who would remember David Borland at his best
-must think of him as he appeared when he called the
-guests to order and bade them fill their glasses high.
-
-"Take your choice of lemonade or ginger ale," he
-cried with a voice like a heightening breeze; and they
-who knew him well silently predicted the best of
-David's soul for the assembled guests that night.
-"There ain't nothin' stronger," he went on with
-serious mien; "drinks is always soft when times is
-hard—but drink hearty, friends, an' give the old house
-a good name."
-
-Possibly there was the slightest symptom of a
-tremor in his voice as it referred thus to what he held
-so dear, now about to be surrendered; but a moment
-later the old indomitable light was kindled in his eye,
-the strong face beaming with the unquenched humour
-that had been such a fountain in his own life and the
-lives of others. Something of new dignity was
-noticeable in his entire bearing, the bearing of a man
-who, if beaten, had been beaten in honourable battle,
-resolved still to retain all that was dearest to his
-heart; this explained the look of pride with which he
-marked, as he could hardly fail to mark, the affection
-and respect with which every eye regarded him as he
-stood before his friends.
-
-The toast to the King, and one other, had been
-disposed of, David proceeding merrily to launch another,
-when suddenly he was interrupted by Geordie Nickle,
-who rose from his place at the further end of the table.
-
-"Sit doon, David," he enjoined, nodding vehemently
-towards his friend, "an' gie an auld man a
-chance. Ladies an' gentlemen," he went on, directing
-his remarks to the company, "I'll ask ye to fill
-yir glasses wi' guid cauld water for to drink the toast
-I'll gie ye—naethin'll fit the man I'm gaein' to
-mention as weel as that; there's nae mixture aboot him,
-as ye ken. I'm wantin' all o' ye to drink a cup o'
-kindness to the man we love mair when he's puir
-nor we ever did afore. Here's to yin o' th'
-Almichty's masterpieces, David Borland—an' may
-He leave him amang us till He taks him till
-Himsel'."
-
-Geordie paused, his glass high in air. And the
-fervid guests arose to drink that toast as surely toast
-had never been drunk before. With a bumper and
-with three times three, and calling David's name aloud
-after a fashion that showed it had the years behind it,
-and with outgoing glances that spoke louder than
-words, every face searching his own in trust and
-sympathy and love, they did honour to the host
-who should entertain them there no more.
-
-It was almost too much for David. He arose when
-his guests had resumed their seats, and stood long
-looking down without a word. But he began at last,
-timidly, hesitatingly, emotion and language gradually
-making their way together as his eyes were slowly
-lifted to rest upon the faces of his friends. He
-referred frankly to the occasion that had brought
-them together, thus to bid farewell to the scene of
-many happy gatherings. "Folks say I'm beaten,"
-he went on, "but that ain't true. I'm not beaten.
-I've lost a little—but I've saved more," as he looked
-affectionately around. "I'm not really much poorer
-than I was. I never cared a terrible lot about money;
-'twas the game more. Just like boys with marbles;
-they don't eat 'em, they don't drink 'em—but they
-like to win 'em."
-
-Then he referred to the justice of the power that
-disturbs the security of human comfort, though he
-employed no such terms as those. "A fellow's got
-to take the lean with the fat," he said resignedly;
-"hasn't got no right to expect the clock'll strike
-twelve every time. A miller that sets his wheel by
-the spring freshet, he'd be a fool," he announced
-candidly, knowing no term more accurate, "'cause
-it's bound to drop some time. Of course, it comes
-tougher to *get* poor than to *be* poor; it's worse
-to be impoverished than jest to be poor, as our
-friend Harvey here would say; he's a scholar, you
-know, and a B.A. at that," he added, turning
-his eyes with the others towards Harvey's conscious
-face.
-
-"A stoot heart tae a steep brae, David!" broke in
-Geordie's voice as he leaned forward, his admiring
-gaze fixed on his friend.
-
-"Them's my sentiments," assented David, smiling
-back at the dauntless Scotchman. "I mind a woman
-out in Illinois—she was terrible rich, and she got
-terrible poor all of a sudden. Well, she had to wash
-her own dishes, after the winds descended an' the
-floods blew and beat upon her house, as the Scriptur'
-says—an' she jest put on every diamond ring she
-had to her name an' went at it. That's Mr. Nickle's
-meanin', my friends, I take it—an' that's jest what
-I'm goin' to do myself. I don't know exactly what
-I'm agoin' to go at," he went on thoughtfully; "I've
-got a kind of an offer to be a kind of advisin'
-floor-walker for the line I've been at—an' maybe I'll take
-it an' keep my hand in a bit. We're goin' to live in
-a little cottage—an' there'll always be heaps o' room
-for you all. An' we're goin' to manage all right,"
-he went on, his eye lighting at what was to follow;
-"I've got an arrangement made with Madeline here.
-We won't have a terrible lot of help round the house;
-so she's goin' to attend to the furnace in the
-winter—an' I'm goin' to look after it in the summer. So
-we'll get along all right, all right. An' now, friends,"
-he continued seriously, "I must hump it to a close,
-as the preachers say. But there's one thing—don't
-believe all Mr. Nickle tells you about me; I ain't near
-as good as he says. These Scotchmen's terrible on
-epitaphs when they once get started. An' he's like
-all the rest o' them—when he likes a man he
-swallows him whole. But I want to thank you all for
-helpin' us to make the last night so jolly. I don't find
-it hard myself, for I'm as certain as I ever was of
-anythin' it's all for the best. I want you to give that
-hymn out again next Sunday, doctor," and David's
-face had no trace of merriment as he turned to look
-for his pastor by his side; "oh, I forgot the doctor
-goes home early—but I'll ask him anyhow, an' we'll
-sing it louder'n we ever did before. It's been
-runnin' in my mind an awful lot lately: 'With mercy
-an' with judgment'—you can't beat them words
-much; it's the old comfortin' thought about Who's
-weavin' the web. So now I jest want to thank
-everybody here for comin'—we've had good happy years
-together, an' there's more to follow yet, please God,"
-he predicted reverently as he resumed his seat, the
-deep silence that reigned about him being more
-impressive than the most boisterous applause.
-
-The pause which followed was broken by a suggestion,
-low and muffled at first, gradually finding
-louder voice and at last openly endorsed by Geordie
-Nickle, that "auld lang syne" would be a fitting
-sequel to what had gone before. David hailed the
-proposal with delight.
-
-"We'll sing it now," he said enthusiastically, "an'
-we'll have the old doxology right after—they're both
-sacred songs, to my way o' thinkin'," as he beckoned
-to Geordie to take his place beside him, the company
-rising to voice the love-bright classic.
-
-But just as cordial hands were outgoing to loyal
-hands outstretched to meet them, the door-bell broke
-in with sudden clamour, and some one on the outer
-edge of the circle called aloud the name of Harvey
-Simmons. There was something ominous in the
-tone, and one at least detected the paleness of
-Harvey's cheek as he hurried towards the door. A
-moment sufficed the breathless messenger to communicate
-what he had to tell, and in an instant Harvey
-had turned swiftly towards the wondering company.
-He spoke no word, offered no explanation, but his
-eye fell on Jessie's in silent intimation of what she
-already seemed to fear. Noiselessly she slipped from
-the now voiceless circle, joining her brother as they
-both passed swiftly out into the night.
-
-
-
-
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- \XXVI
-
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- "*THE FAIR SWEET MORN AWAKES*"
-
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-Darkness was about them, dense and
-silent; nor were the shadows that wrapped
-their hearts less formidable. For something
-seemed to tell Harvey that one of life's great hours
-was approaching, like to which there is none other to
-be confronted by a lad's loving soul. Involuntarily,
-almost unconsciously, his hand went out in the
-darkness in search of his sister's; warm but trembling, it
-stole into his own. And thus, as in the far-off days
-of childhood, they went on through the dark together,
-the slight and timid one clinging to the strong
-and fearless form beside her. But now both hearts
-were chilled with fear—not of uncanny shadows, or
-grotesque shapes by the wayside, or nameless perils,
-as had been the case in other days—but of that
-mysterious foe, one they had never faced before, ever
-recognized as an enemy to be some day reckoned with,
-but now knocking at the gate. Yet, awful though
-they knew this enemy to be, their feet scarce seemed
-to touch the ground, so swiftly did they hurry on to
-meet him, counting every moment lost that held them
-back from the parting struggle. Hand in hand they
-pressed forward, these children of the shadows.
-
-"Did they say she was dying, Harvey?" Jessie
-asked in an awesome voice, little more than a
-whisper.
-
-"That's what they thought," he answered, his hand
-tightening on hers; "she thought so herself."
-
-The girl tried in vain to check the cry that broke
-from her lips. "Don't, sister, don't," he pleaded, his
-own voice in ruins; "maybe she won't leave us
-yet—but if she does, if she does, she'll see—she'll
-see again, Jessie." The emotion that throbbed in
-the great prediction showed how a mother's blindness
-can lay its hand on children's hearts through
-long and clouded years.
-
-"But she won't see us, Harvey, she won't see us
-before she goes. Oh, Harvey, I've longed so much
-for that, just that mother might see us—even if it was
-only once—before she dies. And, you know, the
-doctor said if it came it would come suddenly; and
-I've always thought every morning that perhaps it
-might come that day. And now," the sobbing voice
-went on, "now—if she goes away—she won't have
-seen us at all. And we always prayed, Harvey; we
-prayed always for that," she added, half-rebelliously.
-Her brother answered never a word. Instead, he
-took a firmer grasp upon his sister's hand and strode
-resolutely on. By this time his head was lifted high
-and his eye was kindled with a strange and burning
-glow, his heart leaping like a frightened thing the
-while; for he could descry the light of their cottage
-home. Tiny and insignificant, that home stood
-wrapped in darkness save for that one sombre
-beacon-light—but the flickering gleam that rose and fell
-seemed to call him to the most majestic of all earthly
-scenes, such scenes as lend to hovel or to palace the
-same unearthly splendour.
-
-"Will she know us, do you think?" Jessie
-whispered as they pushed open the unlocked door and
-went on into the dimly lighted house. Harvey did
-not seem to hear, so bent was he on the solemn quest,
-ascending the stair swiftly but silently, his sister's hand
-still tight within his own. As they came near the
-top they could just catch, through the half-open door,
-the outline of their mother's face, the stamp of death
-unmistakably upon it; she lay white and still upon
-her pillow, two forms bending above her, one of
-which they recognized at once as the doctor's.
-Whereat suddenly, as if unable to go farther, Harvey
-stopped and stood still; Jessie did likewise, turning
-with low sobs and flinging herself into her brother's
-arms, her face hidden while he held her close, silently
-endeavouring to comfort the stricken heart.
-
-"Don't, Jessie," he whispered gently. "Let us
-make it easier for her if we can—and let us think of
-all it means to her—all it'll bring back again.
-Come," the last word spoken with subdued passion,
-courage and anguish blending. They went in together,
-slowly, each seeming to wait for the other to
-lead the way. Their look, their movements, their
-manner of walk, the very way they leaned forward
-to peer with eager, awe-inspired eyes upon their
-mother's face—all spoke of childhood; everything
-reverted in this great hour to the sweet simplicity
-of that period of life that had bound them to
-their mother in sacred helplessness. The primal
-passion flowed anew. And the two who crossed the
-floor together, tip-toeing towards the bed whereon
-their only earthly treasure lay, were now no more a
-laurel-laden man and a maiden woman-grown, waging
-the stern warfare life had thrust upon them; but
-they were simply boy and girl again, hand linked in
-hand as in the far departed days when two stained
-and tiny palms had so often lain one within the
-other—boy and girl, their hearts wrung with that strange
-grief that would be powerless against us all, could
-we but remain grown-up men and women. For the
-kingdom of sorrow resembles the kingdom of heaven,
-in this, at least, that we enter farthest in when we
-become like little children; and an all-wise Father has
-saved many a man from incurable maturity by the
-rejuvenating touch of sorrow, by the youth-renewing
-ministry of tears.
-
-"Look, oh, Harvey, look," Jessie suddenly whispered
-in strange, excited tones. Subdued though her
-voice was, a kind of storm swept through it. Harvey
-started, looked afresh—and saw; and instinctively,
-almost convulsively, he turned and clutched Jessie
-tightly by the arm. She too was clinging to him in
-a very spasm of trembling.
-
-"She sees us," came Jessie's awesome tidings, her
-face half-hidden on her brother's shoulder.
-
-"She sees us," he echoed absently, his face turning
-again towards the bed, his eyes resuming the
-wondrous quest.
-
-He gazed, unspeaking, as one might gaze who sees
-within the veil. All else was forgotten, even great
-Death—so jealous of all rivals—whose presence had
-filled the room a moment or two agone. And the
-silent years beyond—ah me! the aching silence after
-a mother's voice is hushed—were unthought of now.
-And the grim and boding shade of orphanhood,
-deepening from twilight into dark, was unavailing
-against the new-born light that flooded all his soul
-with joy.
-
-For he saw—and the bitter memories of bygone
-years fled before the vision as the night retreats
-before the dawn—he saw a smile upon his mother's
-face, the smile he had not seen for years; unforgotten,
-for it had mingled with his dreams—but it had
-vanished from her eyes when those eyes had looked
-their last upon her children's faces. Yes, it was in
-her eyes—brightness he had often seen before on
-cheek and lip, merriment even—but this was the
-heart's loving laughter breaking through the soul's
-clear window as it had been wont to do before that
-window had been veiled in gloom.
-
-He remembered afterwards, what he did not then
-remark, that the doctor, observing his rapt expression,
-came close with some whispered explanation—some
-discourse on the relaxation of the optic nerve
-as a result of physical collapse—something of that
-sort, and much more, did the good man stammer
-forth to eke out this miracle of God. But Harvey
-heard him not—nor saw him even—for the love-light
-in his mother's eyes called him with imperious
-voice, and almost roughly did he snatch
-himself from Jessie's grasp as he pressed forward
-with outstretched hands. He moved around the
-foot of the bed, his hands still extended; and as
-he did so he noticed, with wild surging joy, that the
-devouring eyes followed him as he went. The
-sensation, new, elemental, overpowering, almost
-overcame him; something of the sense of repossession of
-a long absent soul, or the kindling of a long
-extinguished fire, or the cessation of a long tormenting
-pain, laid hold upon his heart. As he drew near and
-bent low above the bed, his mother's face was
-almost as a holy thing, so transfigured was it with its
-glow of love. The rapture in her eyes was such as
-conquerors know—for it was the moment of her
-triumph after the long battle with the years. And
-her lips moved as if they longed to chant the victor's
-song; yet they were muffled soon—for the hands she
-laid upon the bended shoulders of her boy were
-hungry hands, and that strange strength so often
-vouchsafed the dying was loaned her as she drew the
-manly form, all quivering and broken now, close to
-her throbbing bosom. A moment only—for the
-yearning eyes would not be long denied—till she
-gently released the hidden face, holding him forth
-before her while the long thirsting orbs drank deep of
-holy gladness.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," she murmured low, "Harvey, my
-son—my little son."
-
-"Mother—my mother," he answered back, as his
-hand stroked the pallid cheek; for the new vision was
-as wonderful to him as her returning vision could be
-to her. "Oh, mother, don't—don't leave us now,
-dear mother," he sobbed in pleading, the child-note
-breaking through his voice again, "now, when we'll
-all be so happy, mother."
-
-She smiled and shook her head faintly; his plea
-seemed to find but faint lodgment in her mind. For
-she was otherwise employed; she gazed, as though
-she could never gaze enough, upon the loving,
-pleading face before her; she was searching for all
-that would reveal the soul behind—all that might
-speak of purity, and temperance, and victory; she was
-gathering traces of the years, the long curtained years
-through which his unfolding soul had been hidden
-from her sight. And her eyes wandered from his
-face only long enough to lift themselves to heaven in
-mute thanksgiving to that God whose truth and
-faithfulness are the strength and refuge of a mother's
-heart.
-
-Suddenly she turned restlessly upon her pillow, her
-gaze outgoing beyond Harvey's now bended head.
-
-"Oh, Jessie," she said with returning rapture, "oh,
-Jessie—my wee Jessie—my little daughter; oh, my
-darling," as she drew the awe-stricken face down
-beside her brother's. There they nestled close, there as
-in blessed and unforgotten days, all the fragrance of
-the sorrow-riven past, all the portent of the love-lorn
-future mingling in baptism upon their almost
-orphaned heads.
-
-The thin white fingers toyed with the girl's lovely
-hair; "it's so much darker," she half whispered as if
-to herself, "but it's beautiful; your face, Jessie; let
-me see your face," she faltered, as the maiden turned
-her swimming eyes anew upon her mother. "Thank
-God," she murmured, "oh, let me say it while I can—He's
-been so good to me. He's kept us all—all—so
-graciously; and He's—always—found the path.
-It was never—really—dark; and now He's made it
-light at eventide," she half cried with a sudden gust
-of strength and gladness. "And I know—I've seen—before
-I go; it'll make heaven beautiful," and she
-sank back, faint and exhausted, on her pillow.
-
-The devoted doctor and the faithful friend had both
-slipped noiselessly from the room. They knew that
-love's last Sacrament was being thus dispensed, the
-precious wine to be untasted more till these three
-should drink it new in the kingdom of God. But
-now Miss Adair, her love impelling her, ventured
-timidly back; she came gently over, so gently that
-she was unnoticed by the bending children, taking
-her place beside Harvey. She touched him on the
-shoulder; his eyes gave but a fleeting spark of
-recognition as they fell on what she held in her hand.
-
-"I thought she'd like to see them," said the kindly
-woman; "she couldn't before, you know," and as she
-spoke she bended above the bed, a look of
-expectation on her face as she held Harvey's hood,
-and his medal, before the new-illumined eyes. The
-lamp's dim light fell athwart them and they gleamed
-an instant as if in conscious pride.
-
-The dying woman saw them; her eyes rested a
-moment on them both, and the kindly purposed
-neighbour made as if to put them in her hands. But
-the purpose died before she moved—for the mother's
-glance showed her that these things were to her now
-but as the dust. The time was short; the night was
-coming fast; the dying eyes, so strangely lightened
-for this parting joy, were consecrated to one purpose
-and to that alone—and the gleaming gold and the
-flashing fabric lay unnoticed on the bed, the mother's face
-still turned upon her children's in yearning eagerness,
-as though she must prepare against the years that
-would hide them from her sight till the endless day
-should give them back to her undimmed gaze forever.
-
-Few were the words that were spoken now. The
-stream of peace flowed silently; and the reunited
-three held their high carnival of love—and of strange
-sorrow-clouded joy—the long tragedy of their united
-lives breaking at last into the blessedness of resignation,
-resignation aglow with hope. For this pledge of
-God's faithfulness was hailed by every heart; and
-they felt, though no lip voiced the great assurance,
-that life's long shadows would at last be lost in love's
-unclouded day.
-
-Into a gentle, untroubled slumber their mother fell
-at length. When she awaked, her eyes leaped anew,
-fastening themselves upon her children as though the
-precious gift had been bestowed afresh.
-
-"I had a lovely—dream," she faltered. "I saw
-you—both—little children—like you used to be.
-And I thought your father—was—there too. It
-was heaven," she went on, her face brightening with
-a far-off light; "I thought he was there—and all
-the—the struggle—was past and gone. You
-asked—me—once, dear—if he was there," her sweet smile
-turned on Harvey. "Not yet, dear—not
-yet—but——" She motioned him to bend down beside
-her. "Your father's living," she whispered low, her
-shining eyes fixed on his. Jessie retreated, not
-knowing why, but the wonderful light told her that
-it was a great moment between mother and son.
-"He's living," the awed voice whispered again—"but
-he's afraid. He'll come back—some day—Harvey.
-And you—you—must forgive him. He'll
-tell you. And love him; tell him—I'm—waiting
-there. You must love him—and forgive him—and
-bring him——" Then she stopped, breathless.
-
-The wonderful tidings seemed at first almost more
-than the son could bear. With face suffused and eyes
-aglow, he gazed upon his mother. Suddenly his lips
-began to move; he spoke like one who has descried
-something wonderful, and far away.
-
-"Yes, mother," he whispered low, "yes, I'll love
-him—I love him now; I'll love him—like you love
-him. And I'll bring him, mother, when he comes
-back; I'll bring him—we'll come together. I'll tell
-him what you said," he cried, forgetful who might
-hear, "and then he'll come—I know he'll come," his
-face radiant with the thought.
-
-"And Jessie," the mother murmured, "Jessie too."
-
-"Yes, Jessie too," he answered; "come, Jessie—come,"
-as he beckoned to her; she moved gently
-over and kneeled with him beside the bed.
-
-The day had broken. And the glowing heralds
-of the approaching sun were making beautiful the
-path before him. Hill and dale, their shining
-outlines visible in the distance, were clothed in golden
-glory; the opal clouds announced the coming of
-their king; the fragrant trees, and the bursting buds,
-and the spreading blossoms, and the kindling sward,
-and the verdure-covered fields gave back the
-far-flung smile of light. Like a bride adorned for her
-husband, all stood in unconscious beauty as far as
-eye could reach.
-
-"Look, mother, look," Harvey cried suddenly,
-gently lifting the dear head from the pillow as the
-sanctity of the scene impelled him. "Oh, mother,
-you can see them all," rapture and sorrow mingling
-in the tone.
-
-The far-seeing eyes turned slowly towards the
-window, rested one brief, wonderful moment upon the
-wonderful sight, then turned away in ineffable
-tenderness and longing, fastening themselves again where
-they had been fixed before. For love is a mighty
-tyrant and the proudest kings must take their place
-as vassals in his train.
-
-An instant later the dying eyes seemed to leap far
-beyond, beautiful with rapture. "Look, look," she
-cried as though the others were the blind, "look, oh
-look," her voice ringing clear with the last energy
-of death; "it's lovelier yonder—where it's always
-spring. Don't you see, Harvey? Jessie, don't you
-see? And baby's there, Jessie—Harvey, the baby's
-there—and she's beckoning; look, look, it's you—not
-me—she's calling. Let us all go," she said, the
-voice dropping to faintness again, the eyes turning
-again upon her children; "let us—all—go; it's
-so—lovely; and we're—all—so tired," as the dear lips
-became forever still.
-
-And the rejoicing sun came on, the riot of his joy
-untempered, no badge of mourning in his hand. And
-he greeted the motherless with unwonted gladness as
-he filled the little room with light, kissing the silent
-face as though he would wish it all joy of the
-well-won rest. For he knew, he knew the secret of it
-all. He knew Who had transfigured hill and dale and
-tree and flower with the glance of love; he knew the
-source of all life's light and shade; he knew the
-afterward of God; he knew Death's other, sweeter name.
-
-But the motherless made no response. Still they
-knelt, one on each side of the unanswering form; and
-still, tightly clasped, each held a wasted hand.
-
-
-
-
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- *A BROTHER'S MASTERY*
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-It was the following night, the last night of all.
-Harvey lay with wide staring eyes that sought
-in vain to pierce the darkness; he felt it were
-almost a sacrilege to sleep, even could he have done
-so, since there would lie never more beneath the long
-familiar roof the beloved form that he had never
-known absent for a single night. He suddenly realized
-this—and it leaped like fire in his brain—that he
-had never spent a night in this, the only home he
-had ever known, without the dear presence that must
-to-morrow be withdrawn. He recalled the comfort
-and the courage this had given him in many a trembling
-hour when the nameless fears of childhood gathered
-with the night; how sometimes, tormented by
-grotesque shapes and grotesquer fancies, his terror
-had vanished like a dream when he had heard her
-cough, or sigh, or break into the gentle tones he had
-early learned were between her soul and God. He
-recalled, too, that often, startled by some unreasoning
-fear, he would call out loudly in the night; and in a
-moment the gentle form would be beside his bed, her
-hand upon him as she caressed him with a word,
-which word became the lullaby upon whose liquid
-wave he was borne back to dreamland.
-
-All this could never be again, he mused in bitter
-loneliness. As he dwelt upon it the thought became
-almost intolerable; and suddenly rising—for he had
-not yet undressed—he began noiselessly to descend
-the stairs, purposing to go out into the night; for
-there is healing in the cool cisterns of the midnight
-air. But he noticed, to his surprise, a light stealing
-from beneath Jessie's door; instinctively he turned
-and knocked, his lonely heart glad of the sympathy
-he would not seek there in vain.
-
-She bade him enter; obeying, he stood amazed as
-he beheld how his sister was employed. For Jessie
-was full dressed; it was after three o'clock, but she
-had made no preparations for retiring. Instead, she
-was seated on the bed, the room bestrewed with materials
-for the toil that was engrossing her. Cloth, of
-various kinds and in various shapes, separated fragments
-yet to be adjusted, were scattered about; scissors
-and spools and tape measures lay upon the bed
-on which the stooping form was seated. And Jessie
-herself, a lamp whose oil was almost exhausted
-stationed high above her, was sewing away as if for life
-itself; worn and weary, her fingers chafed and sore, a
-burning flush on either cheek, the tired shoulders
-stooped and bent, she was pressing on with her
-humble toil.
-
-He uttered a quick exclamation of surprise, almost
-of reproach, as his eyes fell on the pitiful face and
-noticed the signs of drudgery about her. His first
-thought, as soon as he could collect himself, was that
-his sister was preparing the habiliments of mourning
-which her orphanhood would now demand. But
-sad and striking contrast, the fabric over which the
-fragile form was bent was of a far different kind. The
-material was of the richest and gayest sort, while
-yoke of rarest embroidery, and costly lace, and rich
-brocade, spoke of wealth and fashion far beyond their
-station.
-
-Jessie started as if detected in some guiltful work;
-she even made one swift attempt to hide the handiwork
-that lay glistening across her knee.
-
-Harvey closed the door; and there was more of
-sternness in his voice than she had ever heard before.
-"Jessie," he said gravely, "our mother's lying dead
-downstairs."
-
-Alas! the poor girl knew it well. And her only
-answer was a quick and copious gush of tears. It
-was pitiful to see her snatch the delicate creation and
-toss it quickly from her, lest her grief should stain it;
-then she rocked gently to and fro in a gust of sorrow.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," she sobbed, "you didn't mean that,
-brother. I know you didn't mean it."
-
-He was still in the dark. But the anguish of this
-dear heart, so loyal to him through the years, was
-more than he could stand. With one quick stride he
-took his place beside her on the bed, his arm
-encircling her with infinite tenderness.
-
-"Don't, sister," he said, "don't cry like that; I
-didn't mean it, dear—only I didn't understand—I
-can't understand."
-
-She offered no explanation, sobbing gently a few
-minutes in his arms.
-
-"I couldn't understand, Jessie," he said again a
-little later.
-
-"I couldn't help it," she said at last without
-raising her head. "I didn't want to sew, with mother
-lying dead—but I couldn't help it. I really couldn't.
-It's not for me," she flung out at last, the long hidden
-secret surrendered after all. "It's not for me—and I
-had to get it done. They insisted so—and I couldn't
-afford to lose them—it's for a party."
-
-The blood left Harvey's face, then surged hotly
-back to it again. His arms fell from about her and
-he sat like one in a trance. His eyes roved dumbly
-about the room, falling here and there upon many a
-thing, unnoticed in the first survey, that confirmed
-the assurance which now chilled him to the heart.
-Then his eyes turned to his sister's face. It was
-averted, downcast—but he could see, what he had but
-casually remarked before, how the hand of toil had
-left its mark upon it. Sweet and tender and unselfish,
-courage and resolution in every line, he could now
-read the whole sad story of what lay behind. The
-worn fingers were interlocked upon her lap, and he
-could see how near the blood was to the very fingertips.
-And as he reflected, almost madly, upon the
-desperate necessity that had held her to her work
-under the very shadow of death, and driven her to it
-though with a broken heart; as he recalled the
-mysterious sources of support that had never failed
-him till his college course was done, a flood of sacred
-light broke upon it all—and the dear form before him,
-tired and wasted as it was, was gently drawn to his
-bosom with hands of reverent love, his murmuring
-lips pressed lightly to the burning cheeks in penitent
-devotion.
-
-"Forgive me, sister," he pleaded in a faltering
-voice, "oh, forgive me; for I did not know—I did not
-know."
-
-Her answer was never spoken; but it came.
-
-It was not long till he had learned, and from her
-own reluctant lips, all the story of the toil and
-drudgery that had been thus so suddenly revealed.
-But, protest as he might, Jessie was resolved to press
-on with the work she had been engaged in.
-
-"I'm just as well able to work as you are, Harvey,"
-she said earnestly. "I certainly will not give up the
-store."
-
-"But I'm sure of a position on the newspaper I
-was telling you about, Jessie," Harvey urged—"and
-I can at least help; I can always spare a little," he
-assured her confidently, "and there's one thing you
-must do before very long," he went on eagerly;
-"you've really got to come and stay a while with
-Miss Farringall. She practically made me promise
-for you. Couldn't somebody mind the store while
-you're away?"
-
-"I suppose so," Jessie relented enough to say;
-"Miss Adair could manage it well enough, of course.
-And I'd love to have a long visit with you, brother,"
-she added fondly. "We're all alone in the world
-now, Harvey," her voice trembling as the tired eyes
-filled to overflowing—"we haven't anybody else but
-each other now."
-
-Harvey looked her full in the face. "There's
-another," he said in a whisper after a long silence.
-
-Jessie started violently; then her demand for more
-light came swift and urgent.
-
-As gently as he could, he broke to her the wonderful
-news. The girl was trembling from head to foot.
-
-But her first thought seemed to be of her mother.
-"And that was it," she cried amid her sobs; "that
-was the sorrow mother carried about with her all the
-time. Oh, Harvey, I always knew there was
-something—I always felt mother had some burden she
-wouldn't let us share with her—I always felt her heart
-was hungry for something she hoped she'd get before
-she died. Poor, poor mother—our dear, brave
-mother!"
-
-Harvey staunched the tide of grief as best he
-could. Their talk turned, and naturally enough, to
-the hope of their father's return some day, both
-promising the fulfillment of their mother's dying wish.
-
-"We'll do just as mother would have done," the
-girl said in sweet simplicity; "and we'll wait
-together, Harvey—we'll watch and wait together."
-
-"And you'll help me, won't you, sister?" Harvey
-asked suddenly.
-
-"What to do?" Jessie said wonderingly.
-
-"Just help me," he answered, his voice faltering.
-"Will you promise me that, Jessie; you don't know
-yet all it means—just always to stick to me, and help
-me, and believe in me—till—till father comes?" he
-concluded, looking steadfastly into her wondering
-eyes. "Come with me, sister—come."
-
-The darkness was at its deepest, the lamp-light now
-flickered into gloom, as he rose and led her gently
-from the room. Groping noiselessly, they two, the
-only living things about the house, crept downward
-to the chamber of the dead. The door creaked with
-a strange unearthly sound as Harvey pushed it open
-and drew his sister in beside him. Onward he
-pressed, his arm still supporting her, till they stood
-above the silent face. It lay in the pomp of the
-majestic silence, calmly awaiting the last earthly dawn
-that should ever break upon it, awaiting that
-slow-approaching hour when the last movement should be
-made, the last tender rudeness which would lay it,
-swaying slightly, upon the waiting bosom of the
-earth—and then the eternal stillness and the dark.
-
-They stood long, no sound escaping them, above
-the noble face. Its dim outlines could be just
-discerned, calm and stately in the royal mien of death.
-They gazed long together. "I believe she's near us,"
-Harvey whispered. Then he drew her gently down
-till their faces met upon the unresponsive face of their
-precious dead.
-
-A moment later he led her tenderly away. She
-passed first through the door; but he turned and
-looked back. The first gray streak of dawn was
-stealing towards his mother's face; and he saw, or
-thought he saw, a look of deeper peace upon it than
-had ever been there before. And the still lips spoke
-their benediction and breathed their love upon her
-children—all the more her own because she dwelt
-with God.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`A LIGHT AT MIDNIGHT`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXVIII
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *A LIGHT AT MIDNIGHT*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"There's something—but I don't know
-what it is. But there's something; now
-Jessie, do sit up straight, and breathe
-deep—you know you promised me you'd breathe
-deep. Yes, there's something wrong with Harvey."
-
-If Jessie was not breathing very deep she was
-breathing very fast. Even Grey felt a nameless
-agitation in the domestic atmosphere, looking up with
-cat-like gravity into Miss Farringall's troubled face.
-He had noticed, doubtless, that the mercurial spectacle,
-had been ascending and descending from nose to
-brow and from brow to nose with significant rapidity.
-Grey did not look at Jessie—except casually. She
-not been sufficiently long in the house—and
-belonged to one of the oldest and best-bred of
-feline families.
-
-Still Jessie did not speak. But her hostess, dear
-soul, was ever equal to double duty. Like most
-maiden ladies, Miss Farringall had the dialogue gift
-abundantly developed; nor was it liable to perish
-through disuse.
-
-"Yes," she went on as cheerfully as her perplexity
-would allow, "he's been so different lately. He
-comes home at such strange hours, for him. And
-sometimes he waits a long time at the door, as if he
-didn't know whether to come in or not. Of course,"
-she added reassuringly, "no one else knows but me;
-Barlow never hears anything, for he's dead all
-night—he never resurrects till half-past seven," a timid
-smile lighting her face a moment. "But Harvey's
-different every way; all his fun and merriment are
-gone—and he seems so depressed and discouraged,
-as if he was being beaten in some fight his life
-depended on. I don't know what to make of it at all."
-
-Jessie's face showed white in the gaslight; and her
-voice was far from steady. "Has this all been
-since—since mother died?" she asked, with eyes
-downcast and dim.
-
-"Not altogether. No, not at all. I noticed it first,
-a while after he went on the *Argus*. He was so
-proud about getting on the staff—he got hold of a
-life of Horace Greeley in the library, and he used to
-joke about it and say some day he'd stand there too.
-But it began one morning—the change, I mean—and
-he's never been the same since. And one night, just
-before he went out, he brought me an envelope and
-asked me to keep it till he came back. I'm not very
-sure, but I think there was money in it—and it was
-just at the end of the month too," she added
-significantly.
-
-"Doesn't he like newspaper life?" enquired Jessie.
-
-"Oh, yes; I think he's crazy about it. You see,
-with his education and his gifts—he's a born writer—there
-isn't any kind of business could suit him better.
-I think he has his own times with Mr. Crothers—he's
-the city editor, a kind of manager. He's a strange
-man, blusters and swears a good deal, I think—but
-he's got a good heart, from what I can hear."
-
-"Why don't you have a confidential talk with
-Harvey?" suggested Jessie. "He'd tell you almost
-anything, I'm sure."
-
-"I've thought of that. But I was going to ask
-you the very same thing. Why don't you?—you're
-his sister."
-
-Jessie's lip quivered. "I couldn't," she said
-hesitatingly; "I couldn't stand it. Besides, you know,
-I ought to go home to-morrow. Miss Adair's expecting
-me—and she says the store always prospers better
-when I'm there myself; she's had charge for ten
-days now, while I've been visiting here."
-
-Miss Farringall sighed. "I wish I could coax you
-out of that," she said. "Why will you go away so
-soon, Jessie? These days you've been here have been
-such a joy; I'm such a lonely creature," she added
-glancing out at the silent, dimly-lighted hall. "There's
-hardly ever anybody around now but Barlow—and
-he's a ghost. Of course, Dr. Wallis comes when I
-send for him—but we always quarrel. Then, of
-course, the rector comes every little while—but he's
-a kind of a prayer-book with clothes on; he gets
-solemner every day. What I'm getting to hate about
-him," she went on, vehemently, "is that he has his
-mind made up to be solemn, and he's not meant for
-it—red-headed men with freckles never are," she
-affirmed decisively. "But you and Harvey, you almost
-seem, Jessie—you might have been my own children,
-I think sometimes," a queer little tremor in the voice,
-the withered cheek flushing suddenly. But Jessie did
-not remark the strange tenderness of the glance she
-cast towards the treasure-hiding desk in the corner.
-"Some day I want to tell you——"
-
-But her voice suddenly died away in silence as
-both women turned their eyes eagerly towards the
-door. For they could see the approaching form of
-the subject of their conversation. And it needed but
-a glance to confirm the opinion Miss Farringall had
-already expressed. Harvey was making his way
-heavily up the stairs, his step slow and uncertain,
-his whole bearing significant of defeat. As he
-passed the door a faint plaintive smile played upon
-the face that was turned a moment on the familiar
-forms within; the face was haggard and pale, the eyes
-heavy and slightly bloodshot, the expression sad and
-despondent. Yet the old chivalrous light was there;
-clouded it was as if by shame and self-reproach, yet
-with native pride and honour flashing through it all
-as though the fires of a stern and unceasing conflict
-were glowing far within.
-
-Jessie started as if to greet him. But something
-checked her—she would wait till they were alone.
-
-Entering his room and pausing only to remove his
-boots, Harvey flung himself with a stifled groan upon
-the bed. How long he had lain there before interruption
-came, he neither knew nor cared. For the unclosed
-eyes were staring out into the darkness, his
-brain half-maddened with its activity of pain. Nearly
-everything that concerned his entire life seemed to
-float before him as his hot eyes ransacked the
-productive dark. Childhood days, with their deep
-poverty and their deeper wealth; the light and music of
-their darkened, sorrow-shaded home; the plaintive
-enterprise of their little store; the friends and
-playmates of those early days—and one friend, if
-playmate never; the broadened life of college, and all his
-discovery of himself, his powers, his possibilities, his
-perils; the one epoch-making night of life, its light
-above the brightness of the sun—his burning face hid
-itself in the pillow, his hands tight clenched as those
-half-withered flowers in Madeline's hand rose before
-him, his hopes more faded now than they. Then
-came the holy scene that had followed fast, so
-wonderfully vivid now—for in the dark he could see his
-mother's dying face with strange distinctness, the dear
-eyes open wide and filled with tender light as they
-turned upon her son, the thin hands outstretched as
-if to call the tired one to the comfort of her love.
-
-The glow of filial passion lingered but a moment
-on the haggard face. For other memories followed
-fast. How he had bidden farewell to Jessie, returning
-to the city with high resolve to snatch nobler
-gains than the poor laurels her secret heroism had
-enabled him to win—his hood and medal flitted for
-a moment through his thought, only to be cast aside
-as paltry baubles, garish trifles, with their dying
-sheen; how, later, he had secured a worthy place on
-the news staff of one of the leading dailies of the city,
-his heart high with hope for the career that should
-await him; how his gifts and his opportunity had
-conspired to confirm the hope.
-
-Clouds and darkness were about the remainder of
-his reverie. But part of it had to do with his hour
-of joy and triumph. He felt again the jubilance, the
-separate sort of thrill, that had possessed him when
-the great "scoop" had been accomplished—to use the
-vivid metaphor that journalists employ. And he
-recalled the annual banquet—he could see many of the
-faces through the dark—at which his own name had
-been called aloud, actually requested as he had been to
-propose the toast to the paper it was his pride to serve.
-Then came the brief, fatal struggle as the glasses
-were lifted high. He ground his teeth as he
-remembered Oliver—once friend and chum, now fiend and
-enemy; and Harvey's thought of him was lurid with
-a kind of irrational hate—for Oliver had spurred and
-stung him to his fall with one or two quick sentences
-that seemed cogent enough at the time; the appeal
-had been to shame, and to what was due the concern
-that had honoured him, and to other things of that
-kind; in any case, it had all been like lashing a horse
-that hesitates before a hurdle. And he had leaped
-it—oh, God, he thought to himself, this cad against
-his mother! He had leaped it. And then the
-slumbering passion that had sprung anew to life
-within him—not passion perhaps, nor yet appetite
-either—but a kind of personal devil that had tangled
-its will all up with his own, and had seemed to laugh
-at his feeble struggling, and to exult like one who had
-won again an unforgotten victory, running riot in
-fiendish glee since his prowess had prevailed once more.
-Harvey held his hands to his burning brow as he
-recalled the pitiful resistance that had followed; he
-could feel the ever-tightening grasp again, like the
-relentless coils of the sea-monsters he had read about
-so often; he recalled how his soul had fluttered its
-poor protest, like some helpless bird, against this
-cruel hand that was bound to have its will with
-it—and how struggle and promise and pledge and prayer
-had all seemed to be in vain.
-
-He thought, too, but only for a moment—he could
-not, would not longer dwell upon it—of the shameful
-peace he had found at last; the peace of the
-vanquished; such peace as servile souls enjoy, for it can
-be purchased cheap—and the evil memory of it all
-surged over him like hissing waves. Nearly a week
-had followed, such a week as any mother, bending
-above the cradle of her child, might pray God to—
-
-But this was like groping in a morgue—and it
-must stop. He rose half erect from his bed, shaking
-himself like one who tries to clamber back from the
-slough of evil dreams. Just at this moment a knock
-came to the door; his soul leaped towards the
-sound—it was a human touch at least, thank God, and he
-needed some such Blucher for such a Waterloo.
-
-"Come in," he said huskily, lest reinforcement of
-any sort whatever might escape.
-
-And she came. Without a word, but her whole
-being fragrant of sympathy and love, she moved
-unhesitatingly towards the bed. She caught, as she
-came nearer, the fateful fumes. And she knew—the
-most innocent are the most sensitive to the breath of
-sin—but her heart only melted with a tenderer
-compassion, her arms outstretched in yearning, taking
-the stalwart frame into what seemed to him like the
-very guardianship of God.
-
-"Oh, Harvey," the voice thrilling with the melody
-of love; "oh, my brother."
-
-He clung closer to her, without speaking.
-
-"Tell me, Harvey—won't you tell me?" He
-could feel the care-wrung bosom heaving.
-
-Still no word.
-
-"We've never had any secrets, brother—won't you
-tell me, Harvey?"
-
-"You know," after a long pause.
-
-Still silence. Why did she breathe so fast?
-
-"Don't you know, Jessie?"
-
-Silence long—"Yes, I know," she said, "and I
-never loved you as I love you now."
-
-Then the flood-gates were rolled back and the tide
-burst forth. Oh, the luxury of it; the sweetness of
-it—to feel, nay, to know, that there was one life that
-clung to him, trusted him, loved him, through all the
-waste and shame! And the blessed relief it gave; to
-tell it all, keeping nothing back, blaming no other—not
-even Oliver—breathing out the story of the
-struggle and the overthrow and the humiliation and
-the anguish. And in that hour Hope, long absent
-and aloof, came back and nestled in his heart again.
-On he went, the story long and intimate and awful,
-coming closer and closer by many and circuitous
-routes to the very soul of things, hovering about the
-Name he almost dreaded now to speak, yet yearned
-with a great longing to pronounce; his soul was
-crying out for all that was behind his mother's name, the
-comfort and sympathy and power which he felt, dimly
-but unconquerably, could not be stifled in a distant
-grave.
-
-"Do you think she knows?" he asked at last, in a
-tone so low that even Jessie could scarcely hear.
-
-They could catch the sound of the wind upon the
-grass as they waited, both waited. "Yes," as she
-trembled closer, "yes, thank God."
-
-He started so suddenly as to frighten her. The
-conflict-riven face peered into hers through the dark.
-
-"What?" he asked sternly. "What did you say?"
-
-"I think she knows," the calm voice answered.
-"I'm sure God knows—and it makes it easier."
-
-He held her out at arm's length, still staring at her
-through the gloom. "What?—I thought sorrows
-were all past and over—for her," the words coming
-as a bitter questioning.
-
-Jessie's face, serene with such composure as only
-sorrow gives, was held close to his own. "We
-cannot tell," she whispered low; "that is between her
-and God—they both know."
-
-He struggled silently with the deep meaning of
-her words.
-
-"You see," sweet girlishness in the voice again,
-"you see, Harvey, they know what's farther on—oh,
-brother, brother dear, it'll be better yet," her voice
-breaking now with an emotion she could control no
-longer; "it won't always be like this, Harvey—you
-won't do it any more, will you, brother?" sobbing as
-she buried her face beside his own. "We've had so
-much trouble, Harvey—the joy's only been the
-moments, and the sorrow's been the years—and we got
-mother safe home," the quivering voice went on,
-"and I thought we'd follow on together—and—some
-day—we'd find our father. And you won't make
-it all dark again, will you, Harvey? You'll fight—and
-I'll fight—we'll fight it out together, Harvey. It
-seems nothing now, what we had before—I mean, it
-doesn't seem a bit hard just to be poor—if we can
-only keep each other, Harvey," and the poor trembling
-form, so long buffeted by life's rude billows,
-clung to the only shelter left her, her soul
-outbreathing its passionate appeal.
-
-There was more of silence than of speech while
-they waited long together. He could feel the
-beating of the brave and trustful heart beside his own;
-this seemed to bring him calm and courage. In a
-mysterious way, she seemed to link his wounded life
-anew to all the sacred past, all the unstained days, all
-the conflict for which he had had strength and to
-spare, all the holy memories that had drifted so far
-from him now, a yawning gulf between.
-
-"Won't you come home with me, Harvey?" she
-said at length.
-
-"Why?"
-
-"Well, perhaps it would help us both. I was
-going to ask you to come anyhow—for one thing, I
-wanted you to help Mr. Borland," she added quickly,
-glad of the fitting plea. "He's going to run for
-mayor, you know—and I thought you'd like to do
-what you can."
-
-Harvey smiled. "I guess my own contest will give
-me enough to do," he said rather bitterly. "It was
-good of you to ask me, Jessie—but I'll stay on my
-own battlefield," his lips tightly shut.
-
-A long silence reigned again. "Look," he cried
-suddenly, "it's getting light."
-
-Jessie turned and looked. And the wondrous
-miracle crept on its mystic way; healing, refreshing,
-soothing, rich with heavenly promise and aglow with
-heavenly hope, telling its great story and bidding
-every benighted heart behold the handiwork of God,
-the silent metaphor was uttering forth the lesson of
-the returning day. For the new heaven and the
-new earth were appearing, fresh with unspotted
-beauty, recurring witnesses to the regenerating
-power of the All-sanguine One.
-
-"It's getting light," she echoed dreamily. "Do
-you remember that line, Harvey, mother used to love
-so much?"
-
-"No; what line?"
-
-"It's a hymn line," she answered softly. "'The
-dawn of heaven breaks'—I'm sure she sees this, too.
-Look at the clouds yonder, all gold and purple—it's
-going to be a lovely day."
-
-"It's going to be a new day," he said, gazing long
-in silence at the distant fount of light.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`HOW DAVID SWEPT THE FIELD`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXIX
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *HOW DAVID SWEPT THE FIELD*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"Go and wash your hands, Madeline, before
-you fix your father's tie. I little thought
-my daughter would ever come to this—filling
-those wretched kerosene lamps; it's bad enough to
-have to come down to lamps, without having to fill
-them," and Mrs. Borland sighed the sigh of the
-defrauded and oppressed.
-
-"Don't worry about me, mother; if you only knew
-how much better a girl's complexion shows with them
-than with the gas, you wouldn't abuse them so. All
-right, father, I'll put the finishing touches on you in
-a minute—what did you say was the hour for the
-meeting? I wish I could go—one of the hardest
-things about being a girl is that you can't go to
-political meetings," and Madeline's merry face showed
-how seriously she regarded the handicap.
-
-"Them lamps is all right, mother—they come of
-good old stock," and David regarded a tall,
-umbrageous one with something very like affection;
-"that there one was the last light that shined on my
-father's face," he added reminiscently, "an' I'm awful
-glad we kept it. The meetin's at half-past eight,
-Madeline. An' don't feel bad 'cause you can't go—us
-politicians has our own troubles," he continued
-with mock gravity; "it was this kind o' thing killed
-Daniel Webster—an' I'm not feelin' terrible peart
-myself. But I'm goin' to wear my Sunday choker,"
-he concluded cheerfully enough, holding his tie out
-to Madeline, the dimpled hands now ready for the
-important duty.
-
-"Tie it carefully, Madeline—if your father's going to
-resign, he should look his best when he's doing it," and
-Mrs. Borland surveyed the operation with a critical eye.
-"I'll warrant you Mr. Craig'll be dressed like a lord."
-
-"I ain't goin' to resign, mother—I'm only goin' to
-withdraw," David corrected gravely. "There's all
-the difference in the world between resignin' an'
-withdrawin'; any one can resign, but it takes a
-terrible smart man to withdraw. You've got to be a
-politician, like me, afore you know what a terrible
-difference there is between words like them; can't be
-too careful, when you're a politician—for your
-country's sake, you know. No, mother—no, you
-don't—I ain't goin' to wear that long black coat."
-
-"Oh, father," began Madeline.
-
-"But, David," his wife remonstrated, interrupting,
-"remember you're going to make a speech—and
-when would you wear it, if not to-night? I'm sure
-Mr. Craig'll have on the best coat he's got—and that
-tweed's getting so shabby."
-
-"I won't go back on it when it's gettin' old an'
-seedy," David retorted vigorously; "I know what
-that feels like myself. It stuck to me when I seen
-better days, an' I'm not goin' to desert it now—I
-ain't that kind of a man. An' if Craig wants to dress
-up like an undertaker, that's his funeral. Besides, a
-fellow's ideas comes easier in an old coat—an orator's
-got to consider all them things, you know. Confound
-this dickie, it won't stay down—I believe
-Madeline put 'east in it," as he smote his swelling
-bosom, bidding it subside.
-
-"I'm sorry you're not going to stand, David; I
-believe you'd be elected if you'd only run. I always
-hoped you'd be the first mayor of Glenallen—let me
-just brush that coat before you go," and Mrs. Borland
-fell upon it with right good-will.
-
-"Words is funny things," mused David, as he
-suffered himself to be turned this way and that for the
-operation; "'specially with orators an' politicians.
-If a fellow stands, that means he's runnin'—don't
-scrape my neck like that, mother," ducking evasively
-as he spoke. "It's somethin' like what I heard a
-fellow say at the Horse Show; he says, 'the judges
-look a horse all over—them fellows don't overlook
-nothin',' says he. No, I ain't goin' to stand,
-mother; nor I won't run, neither. I'll jest sit down.
-You see, a fellow that lives in a cottage this size,
-there ain't nothin' else for him to do—not unless he's
-a fool. Don't brush my hat like that, mother; you're
-skinnin' it—what did it ever do to you? Well,
-good-bye, mother; I'm a candidate now—but I'll only jest
-be a man when I get back. I won't even be an
-orator, I reckon. Good-bye, Madeline—wrap that
-there black coat up in them camp-fire balls," he
-directed, nodding towards the rejected black.
-
-"I'm going with you as far as the gate, father;
-you've got to have some kind of a send-off."
-
-"That's all right, daughter; welcome the comin',
-part the speedin' guest, as the old proverb says."
-
-"Speed the parting guest, you mean, David,"
-Mrs. Borland amended seriously.
-
-"Same thing, an hour after he's gone," David
-responded cheerily; "feed him'd be better'n either of
-'em, to my way o' thinkin'," as he started forth on
-his momentous mission.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Mrs. Borland was not far astray in her prediction.
-For when at length the two candidates—and there
-were but two—ascended the platform in the crowded
-hall, David's rival was resplendent in a new suit of
-which the far-descending coat was the most conspicuous
-feature. Mr. Craig had fitting notions as to
-what became the prospective mayor of a town which
-had never enjoyed such an ornament before.
-
-And his speech was almost as elongated as the
-garment aforesaid, largely composed of complacent
-references to the prosperity the town had enjoyed as
-the product of his own. Surreptitious hints to the
-effect that only the commercially successful should
-aspire to municipal honours were not wanting. "It's
-a poor assurance that a man can manage public
-affairs, if he can't look after his own successfully," he
-said, as David sat meekly listening; "and," he went
-on in a sudden burst of feeling, hastening to the
-conclusion of his speech, "I may, I think, fairly claim
-to have been a successful man. And I won't deny
-that I'm proud of it. But, fellow citizens, nothing in
-all this world could give me so great pride as to be
-elected the first chief-magistrate of this growing
-town. I've known something of life's honours," he
-declared grandiloquently, "and I've mingled some
-with the great ones of the earth; at least," hesitating
-a little, "I did when I was a child. And just here
-I'll tell you a little incident that I can never refer to
-without feeling my heart beat high with pride." (Mr. Craig
-had no little fluency as a public speaker when
-he discoursed of things concerning himself.) "As
-many of you know, my father was a gentleman of
-leisure—and he travelled widely. Well, I can still
-recall one winter we spent in Spain—I was but a
-child—but I can remember being at a great public
-meeting in Madrid. Some members of the Royal
-family were there," he declared, as he paused to
-see the effect on the gaping sons of toil, "and I
-remember, as if it were but yesterday, how, when the
-Infanta was going down the aisle and I was standing
-gazing up into her face, she laid her hand upon my
-boyish head as she passed me. I'll not deny, fellow
-citizens, that that touch has been sacred to me ever
-since—but I say to the working-men before me
-to-night that I consider it a greater honour to hold the
-horny hand of the working-man, the hands that will
-mark the ballots that shall bring me the crowning
-honour of my life," and the candidate gathered up
-the folds of his spreading coat as he resumed his seat,
-smiling benignly down upon the rather unresponsive
-crowd.
-
-For many of his auditors were decidedly in the dark
-as to the source of this honour that had befallen him
-in ancient Spain.
-
-"What kind of a animal was that, Tom, that tetched
-him on the head?" one bronzed toiler asked of his
-companion as he still gazed, bewildered rather, on
-the reclining Mr. Craig. "Did he say a elephant—sounded
-summat like that anyhow, didn't it?"
-
-"No, no," the other answered, a little impatiently;
-"what would elephants be doin' at a public meetin'?
-He said 'twas a infantum—I heard him myself."
-
-"What's a infantum?" the first persisted earnestly.
-
-"Oh—well. Well, it's a kind of a baby—only it's
-feminine," he explained learnedly. "An' I think it's
-got somethin' to do wi' the cholery—don't talk, there's
-Mr. Borland gettin' up. Hurrah," he shouted,
-joining in the general chorus, and glad of this very
-opportune escape.
-
-David began very haltingly. Yet he could not
-but feel the cordiality of his welcome; and his glance,
-at first rather furtive and shy, became more confident
-as he gradually felt the ground beneath his feet. "I
-ain't much used to public speakin'," he started
-hesitatingly; "never made but one speech like this
-before. They were a little obstreperous when I began,
-but before I got through you could have—have
-heard a crowbar drop," he affirmed, to the
-delight of his audience. "I can't sling it off like
-my friend Mr. Craig, here; mebbe it's because I've
-not moved in them royal circles," he ventured as
-soberly as he could. "Though I think I've got him
-beat when it comes to rubbin' noses with the quality.
-I've done a little in that line myself—when I was a
-little shaver, too. None o' them royal folks ever
-patted me on the head—but I threw up all over Abe
-Lincoln once. Old Abe used to stop at my father's
-in Peoria when he was ridin' the circuit," David
-explained carefully; "an' once he picked me up—I
-was jest a baby—an' threw me up to the ceilin'; then
-I done the same when I came down—too soon
-after dinner, you see," he added, his words lost in
-the mirth that stormed about him. "But other
-ways, I ain't what you'd call a successful man, I
-reckon," he went on, the quotation obvious. "I've
-always been kind o' scared, ever since I was a young
-fellow, for fear I'd be too successful—that is, the way
-some folks reckon success. I knew a terrible
-successful man in Illinois one time—he was that
-successful that he got richer than any other man in the
-county. An' he got so fond o' bein' successful that
-he nearly gave up eatin'—jest to be more successful.
-He got that fond of it that by and by he wouldn't
-even spend the money for gettin' his hair cut; he
-used to soak his head, in the winter, an' then stand
-outside till it froze stiff—then he'd break it off. He
-was a terrible successful man, to his way o' thinkin',"
-David went on gravely, the crowd rocking to and
-fro in a spasm of delight. "So I think, my friends,
-I'd better jest own up I've been a failure. An' I
-thank you, more'n I can say, for wantin' me to be
-your first mayor—but I'm goin' to sit back quiet an'
-give some better man the job. For one thing, I'm
-gettin' to be an old man—an' that's a disease that
-don't heal much. Besides, I'll have enough to do to
-make a livin'. I won't deny I used to wake up
-nights an' think it'd be fine to be the first boss o' the
-whole town; but I reckon it ain't comin' my way—it
-ain't intended to be wove into my web, by the
-looks o' things. But I thank you for—for your
-love," David blurted out, vainly searching for a better
-word. "An' what kind o' gives me a lump in my
-throat, is the way I see how the men that used to
-work for me is the loyalest to me now. That's
-terrible rich pay—an' I can stand here to-night an' say,
-afore God an' man, that I've tried to be more a
-friend than a boss. Your joys has been my joys, an'
-your sorrows has been my sorrows," his voice quivering
-a little as he spoke the gracious words; "an' I
-ain't disgraced—if I did get beat in business. This
-here's far sweeter to me now than if it'd come my
-way when I was livin' in the big house, wadin' round
-knee-deep in clover. It's when a fellow's down he
-loves to find out how many true friends he's got; any
-old torn umbrella's just as good as a five dollar
-one—till the rain's peltin' down on him—an' then he knows
-the difference. So I can't do nothin' but thank you
-all, an' tell you how glad you've made me. I'll be all
-right," he concluded with heroic bearing, "I'll get
-my bite an' my sup, an' I'll go down to my rest in
-peace; an' I'm richer—far richer than I ever thought.
-It's friends that make a fellow rich; an' I intend
-keepin' them as long as I live—an' after, too," he
-concluded, turning from his chair to add the words,
-electrical in their effect.
-
-Then came a scene, such a scene as gladdens the
-heart of but one man in a generation. All sorts and
-conditions of men joined in the storm of protest,
-refusing to permit David to withdraw his name. Many,
-mostly toil-stained working-men, struggled for the
-floor. Testimonies came thick and fast, volunteered
-with glowing ardour.
-
-"He never used to pass my little girl on the street
-without givin' her a nickel or a dime—most always a
-dime," a burly blacksmith roared, his voice as powerful
-as his muscle.
-
-"Mr. Borland kept me on when times was hard," an
-old man proclaimed in a squeaky voice; "he kept
-me mowin' the grass four times a week, when
-everythin' was burnt up wi' the drooth."
-
-"He sent my little boy to the Children's Hospital
-in the city," another informed the thrilling multitude;
-"an' now he can run like a deer—it was hip-disease."
-
-"He sat up two nights hand-runnin' with Jake
-Foley when he had ammonia in both lungs,"
-imparted one of the lustiest of David's former
-workmen, "an' the next day they found ten dollars in a
-sugar jug; an' when they axed him if he done it he
-said they wanted to insult him—said it was the same
-as axin' a man if he'd been tastin'. But we ain't all
-fools," concluded the witness, his indignant eulogy
-cheered to the echo.
-
-After a valiant struggle the chairman secured
-order, Mr. Craig looking on with the expression that
-children wear when they see their tiny craft being
-borne out to sea. The noble electors demanded a
-vote; which, duly taken, voiced the overwhelming
-desire that David should be their man. Whereupon
-Mr. Craig, not slow to remark the signs of the times,
-possessed himself of a very imposing hat and made as
-if to leave the platform, the crowd suddenly subsiding
-as it became evident he had a word to say before retiring.
-
-"I'm done with municipal life from this time on,"
-he declared hotly, as quiet was restored. "I'm not
-going to enter the lists with a man that has
-proved—that hasn't proved—with David Borland," he
-concluded, floundering. "If the town can do without
-me, I guess I can do without the town."
-
-"You'd better go and travel abroad in them foreign
-parts, an' mebbe——" a voice from the audience
-began to advise.
-
-"That's mean," David cried above the returning
-din; "that's mean—sit down, Mr. Craig," turning
-with a grace even those who knew him best would
-hardly have thought he could command.
-
-"I withdraw," Mr. Craig shouted hotly.
-
-"But don't go yet," David pleaded in the most
-unconventional voice. "I don't like to see a man
-withdrawin' that way." Somewhat mollified, Mr. Craig
-resumed his seat.
-
-Loud demands for a speech finally brought David
-to his feet again. "Well, friends," he began, "I'm
-all used up. I never expected nothin' like this—an'
-I don't hardly know what to say. But I can't—I
-jest can't refuse now," he said, his words lost in a
-mighty cheer. "I didn't know you all felt that
-way—so much. An' I believe I'm gladder for—for two
-people that ain't here to-night," he said in a low,
-earnest voice, "than for any other reason in the
-world. An' I'll—I'll take it—if Mr. Craig here'll help
-me," suddenly turning towards his rival of a moment
-before. "He knows lots more about them things
-than me," moving over to where he sat, "an' if he'll
-promise to help, we'll—we'll run the show together."
-
-There being now no other candidate, the returning-officer
-declared Mr. Borland the first mayor; and the
-vanquished, yielding to the great soul that challenged
-him, took the other's hand in his.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`A JOURNALIST'S INJUNCTIONS`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXX
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *A JOURNALIST'S INJUNCTIONS*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"I don't believe we'll ever find him, Harvey.
-We have so little clue—and almost all we can
-do is wait." Jessie sighed; her life had had
-so much of waiting.
-
-"That's the hard part of it," her brother answered,
-"but what else can we do; it does seem hard to
-think one's own father is living somewhere, and yet
-we may live and die without ever seeing him. I've
-tried all the poor little ways I can—but they're so
-ineffectual. Yet I don't think there's ever a day my
-mind doesn't go out to him. Mother said, though—she
-said he'd come back some day."
-
-"What did she mean?" Jessie asked eagerly.
-
-"I don't know," said Harvey. "That is, I don't
-know just what was in her mind. And she told me
-about his—his weakness," the brother's face flushing
-with the words. "And if I ever succeed enough—if
-I ever get rich enough, I mean—I'll begin a search
-everywhere for him; she said no father ever loved his
-children more," and Harvey's eyes were very wistful
-as they looked into his sister's.
-
-Jessie was silent a while. "You're—you're going
-to succeed, aren't you, brother?" she said, timidly.
-"If father ever does come back—he'll—he'll find
-we've—conquered, won't he, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey's answer was very slow in coming. Finally
-he reached out and took his sister's hand; the words
-rang hopefully.
-
-"I feel somehow, I don't know why, Jessie, but
-I feel somehow as if I were just at the turning
-of the tide. Nobody'll ever know what a fearful
-fight it's been—but I don't think I'll have to struggle
-like this much longer. It's like fighting in the
-waves for your life—but I think it's nearly over. I
-don't want you to go home again for a little, Jessie."
-
-"What do you mean, Harvey? Do you mean
-anything particular's going to happen?"
-
-He hesitated. "I don't know—but I think so.
-I've always had a feeling to-morrow'd be a better day
-than yesterday. I've always felt as if something lay
-beyond; and when I reached it—and passed it,
-everything would be different then."
-
-There are few who know it—but the uncertainty of
-life is life's greatest stimulus. That is, the sense of
-further possibilities, unexpected happenings, developments
-not to be foreseen. This is true of the poor,
-the enslaved, the broken-hearted; it is no less true of
-the caressed of fortune and the favourites of fate.
-The veil that hides to-morrow's face is life's chiefesf
-source of zest, not excepting love itself. Men's hearts
-would break if they could descry the plain beyond
-and search its level surface to the end; wherefore the
-All-wise has broken the long way to fragments, every
-turn in the road, the long, winding road, a well-spring
-of hope and expectation. The most dejected heart,
-proclaim its hopelessness as it may, still cherishes a
-secret confidence that things cannot always thus
-remain; downcast and tear-bedimmed, those eyes are
-still turned towards the morrow, or the morning, or
-the spring-time—for by such different symbols God
-would teach us how ill He brooks monotony.
-
-Especially is this true of one who struggles with
-his sin. Beaten again and again, vows turned to
-shame and resolutions to reproach, conscience and
-will trodden under foot of appetite, the wearied
-warrior still trusts that to-morrow will turn the battle
-from the gate. Something will turn up; if he could
-but get a fresh start, or if he could escape from boon
-companions, or if he were once braced up a bit, or if
-this did not worry and that beset—all these varied
-tones does Hope's indomitable voice assume. Sad
-and pitiful enough, we say; and we smile at what we
-call the weakness of poor humanity—but it all bears
-witness to that hopeful anguish which is bred of
-manifold temptations; it is the earnest expectation of the
-creature waiting for the manifestation of the sons of
-God.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"Not enough snap about any of this stuff, I tell
-you, Simmons." The time was an hour and a
-half after Harvey had bidden Jessie, again Miss
-Farringall's willing guest, good-bye, and gone forth
-to his work until the midnight. The words were
-those of Mr. Timothy Crothers, city editor and
-director in chief of the *Morning Argus*. Mr. Crothers
-had taken off his collar an hour before, which
-was silently accepted by the staff as a storm-signal
-of the most accurate kind. Cold let it be without
-or hot, Mr. Crothers' sanctum soon became a torrid
-region when once he had removed his neck apparel—and
-Harvey looked up with more of expectation than
-surprise, having already witnessed the divestiture.
-
-"It makes a man hot under the collar," Mr. Crothers
-pursued wrathily, giving a phantom jerk in the
-neighbourhood of his neck, "to have stuff like this
-brought in to him; it's as dry as Presbyterian preaching."
-
-"Isn't it true, Mr. Crothers?" Harvey asked,
-calmly opening his knife and applying it to an
-exhausted pencil. "That's the first quality for news,
-isn't it?"
-
-"First qualities be hanged," quoth Mr. Crothers
-contemptuously. "And it isn't news at all—it's
-chloroform. Nothing's news that doesn't make
-people sit up; you'll never make a newspaper man till
-you learn how to spice things up—lots of pepper,
-red pepper at that. A paper that can't make 'em
-sneeze will never earn its salt."
-
-"Are you referring to the report I wrote of the
-game with the Scotch bowlers, Mr. Crothers?"
-Harvey enquired, nodding towards a confused cluster
-of well-scrawled pages on the table.
-
-"Yes, mostly that; you don't make the thing bite.
-It's nearly all about how they played—and we don't
-get twenty bowlers here from Scotland every year."
-
-"About how they played!" echoed Harvey.
-"What else is there?"
-
-"Everything else. Nobody cares a fig about how
-they played. Serve up something about the Johnnies
-themselves—something real interesting. That's the
-whole thing. Now, for instance, look at some of
-this other stuff," and Mr. Crothers took a chair close
-to Harvey, settling down to business; "here you
-have an item about a law being enforced by the
-Government, to provide that all dangerous lunatics
-must be confined in asylums. Don't you see what's
-the proper thing to say about that?"
-
-"No," said Harvey. "It strikes me that's an
-occasion for saying mighty little."
-
-"Nothing of the sort. It's a bully fine chance to
-say that this means the organ across the way will
-lose its editor. Everybody'll enjoy that, don't you see?"
-
-"The editor won't," said Harvey.
-
-"Of course, he won't—that's just the point. And
-here's another case—about the Hon. Mr. Worthing
-being struck by a street car. I notice you have him
-sitting up already. That won't do; a paper that
-cures them as quick as that won't be able to pay its
-office-boy soon. Of course, it's true enough, I dare
-say—he's probably playing billiards in his home,
-with a trained nurse answering the front door; like
-enough, he's sitting up all night going over his
-accident policies. But we've got to have him bandaged
-to the teeth—the public loves lots of arnica and sticking
-plaster—and he's struggling for consciousness—and
-he's got to be crying out every now and then as
-if he were being ground to powder; and his wife's
-going into swoons and coming out of them like a
-train running tunnels in the Rockies. Besides, we've
-got to lambaste the Company; the street-car line is
-our municipal assassin—Moloch—Juggernaut—all
-that sort of thing. But both those words should be
-in—and you can't use words like that if their victim's
-going to be down street to-morrow."
-
-"You should have a staff of novelists," suggested
-Harvey.
-
-"And here—here's a capital illustration of what I
-mean," Mr. Crothers hurried on, ignoring the innuendo.
-"I see Rev. Dr. Blakeley comes out with the
-announcement that there's no such place as hell—do
-you know what I'd say there, Simmons?"
-
-"You'd say you had no objections, I should
-think," Harvey's face lighting with unfamiliar merriment.
-
-"I wouldn't—the public doesn't care a tinker's
-malediction whether I object or not. There's a great
-chance there for a civic stroke—I'd say this
-information throws us back on Blankville," and Mr. Crothers
-named with much contempt a rival city fifty miles
-away. "It's little gems like that, that make a paper
-readable. I see a fellow in that same city was
-arrested for kissing girls on the street; then he was
-examined and found insane. Well, the thing to say
-there, is, that any one who had ever seen their girls
-would have known the man was crazy. News is like
-food, Simmons—everything depends on how it's
-prepared; nobody likes it raw."
-
-"But what about that game with the Scotchmen?"
-Harvey ventured, inwardly rather chagrined with
-the verdict on his handiwork.
-
-"Well, you've got it chuck full of points about the
-game—and that's no good. It's got to be interesting.
-You've got to give it a human touch. There's
-one of the Scotch bowlers, for instance, old
-Sanderson from Edinburgh—they say he's worth eleven
-millions. Well, I'm told there's an old fellow that
-sweeps out a little struggling church on Cedar Street—he's
-its caretaker—and I'm told he used to go to
-school with Sanderson. Now, it's the simplest thing
-in the world to have that old geezer come around to
-the green with his feather duster in his hand—and
-Sanderson stares at him a minute; then he recognizes
-him all of a sudden, and the old dodgers fall to and
-hug each other like two old maids. And have them
-both weep—especially Sanderson, because he's rich.
-And some of those other millionaires should go off to
-the edge of the lawn and blow their nose—you
-understand—the human touch, as I said. Make
-Sanderson go home with the old geezer for supper; might
-just as well—it wouldn't hurt him."
-
-"Sanderson wouldn't relish the caretaker's bill of
-fare, I'm afraid," Harvey said significantly.
-
-"I guess you're right. And that brings me back
-to the thing I intended particularly to speak about.
-Those Scotchmen were properly beaten, as your
-score-card shows. But you don't give the real
-reason—and it's the kind of a reason everybody likes to
-hear about. For all you say, any one would think it
-was a mere matter of skill. Now, of course, we all
-know the reason—it's the moist time they were
-having that licked them. Most of them were full. Of
-course, it wouldn't do to put it that way—nobody'd
-enjoy that. But it's a capital chance for some delicate
-word-painting—keep it kind of veiled. Say something
-like this: 'our genial visitors drank deep of the
-spirit that was much in evidence throughout the
-game.' Or, better still: 'our genial visitors became
-more and more animated by their national spirit as
-the game wore on—some of them seemed quite full
-of it.' Or something like this: 'in liquid prowess
-our British cousins far outran us—if, indeed, that be
-the proper verb, since many of our friends were in
-various degrees of horizontality before the game was
-finished.' You see, a description like that appeals to
-the imagination—it's subtle—keeps readers guessing.
-Or this would be a fine way of putting it: 'it was
-evident yesterday that the little finger plays an
-important part in the ancient game of bowling on the
-green'—something like that. What I'm getting at,
-Simmons, is this—there's a great chance there for
-something humorous, and a journalist ought to make
-the most of it. What makes you look so glum,
-Simmons?—I don't believe you've got much sense of
-humour yourself."
-
-Harvey made no response. But his face was resting
-on his hand, and there must have been something
-in the plaintive eyes that engaged the attention of
-Mr. Crothers. He could hardly fail to see that all of
-a sudden Harvey had become deaf to his tuition;
-and, more remarkable, the care-worn face seemed but
-to grow graver as his monitor pursued his praise of
-mirth.
-
-"You're looking rather blue, Simmons," he added
-after a keen scrutiny, Harvey still remaining silent;
-"but that needn't prevent you writing lots of funny
-things. Some of the funniest things ever written, or
-spoken, have been done by people with broken
-hearts inside of them. Take an actor for instance—doubling
-up his audience, and his own little girl
-dying at home—most likely asking why father doesn't
-come, too; queer tangled world this, my boy, and
-nobody feels its pulse better than us fellows.
-Anything the matter, Simmons?" he suddenly enquired,
-for Harvey's lips were pale; and the chief could see
-a quiver, as of pain, overrun his face.
-
-Harvey's voice had a wealth of passion in it.
-"You'll have to get some other fellow to see the
-humorous side of—of—of that thing," he said.
-
-"What do you mean? What thing?" asked the
-dumfoundered Crothers.
-
-"That drink business—God! it's no comedy," and
-Crothers started as he saw the perspiration breaking
-out on Harvey's brow, his face a battlefield, his hands
-clenched as if he saw an enemy.
-
-Crothers indulged in a low whistle, his eyes never
-moving from Harvey's face. For the veteran
-journalist was no child. He knew the marks of strife
-when he saw them; experience partly, and sympathy
-still more, had fitted him to tell the difference
-between a man sporting in the surf and a man fighting
-for his life against the undertow. And one keen
-look into the depths of Harvey's outpouring eyes
-told him he was in the presence of a tragedy. He
-rose and put his hand on Harvey's shoulder; familiar
-with tender ways it was not—but it was a human hand,
-and a human heart had laid it there.
-
-"Simmons," he said, and the usually gruff voice
-had a gentle note; "Simmons, I know what you
-mean. May as well tell you straight, I've heard
-a little—and I've seen a little, too. And I should
-have known better than talk like that to you. And
-we all believe you'll win out yet, old chap. Now I'll
-tell you what I think you ought to do. You ought to
-go away somewhere for a little trip—there's nothing
-helps a man in a fight of this kind like having his
-attention taken up with something else. I'll keep your
-place open for you here—and if you could get a
-couple of congenial fellows to go off with you for a
-little holiday you'd be like a new man when you came
-back. Strictly water-waggon fellows, of course,"
-he added with a smile. "I know it's a hard fight,
-my boy—but buckle right down to it. And you go
-right home now—you're played clean out, I can see
-that—and take a good sleep till noon. Then you
-skip out just as soon as you can arrange it and have
-a ripping good holiday; that'll set you up better than
-anything else. Good-night now—or good-morning,
-rather, I guess. And remember this above all things,
-Simmons—keep your mind diverted, always be sure
-and keep your mind diverted," with which advice
-Mr. Crothers rose to accompany Harvey to the door.
-
-
-
-
-
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-.. _`THE TROUGH OF THE WAVE`:
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-
- \XXXI
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *THE TROUGH OF THE WAVE*
-
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-
-He was glad to be alone. Lesser conflicts
-crave the help and inspiration of human
-company; but there comes a time when a
-man knows the battle must be fought out alone against
-the principalities and powers that no heart, however
-strong or loving, can help him to withstand. For no
-other can discern his enemy but himself.
-
-Harvey turned with swift steps towards home. He
-thought of his waiting room, with everything that
-could contribute to self-respect and comfort; and of
-Miss Farringall, whose increasing devotion seldom
-failed to find a voice, no matter how late the hour of
-his return. But as he hurried along he marvelled at
-the strange craving that gnawed persistently within.
-The action of his heart seemed weak; his lips were
-parched; his hands were shaky, his nerves a-tingle,
-while a nameless terror, as if of impending ill, cast its
-shadow over him. And through it all burned the
-dreadful thirst, tyrannical, insistent, tormenting.
-
-Resolved to resist to the last, he was still pressing
-steadily on. Suddenly he stopped almost still, his
-eyes fixed upon a light in an upper window. His
-heart leaped as he saw a tall form pass between him
-and the lamp. For he recognized it, or thought he
-did. The room was Oliver's—that same Oliver as had
-goaded him to that fatal toast—and it was quite a
-common experience for that worthy to be playing host
-through the small hours of the morning. A sense
-of peril smote Harvey as he looked; yet, reflecting
-a moment, he assured himself that he would find
-around that brilliant light two or three whose blithe
-companionship would help to beat back the evil spirit
-that assailed him. A chat on matters journalistic, a
-good laugh, an hour or two of human fellowship
-would give him relief from this infernal craving.
-Besides, what hope for him if he could not resist a
-little temptation, should such present itself?
-
-So his resolve was quickly formed; putting his
-fingers to his mouth, a shrill whistle brought a
-familiar face to the window.
-
-"Jumping Jehoshaphat! is that you, Simmons?"
-was the exclamation that greeted Harvey as soon as
-he was recognized. "Come on up—we were just
-speaking of you. I'll be down to the door in less
-than half a minute."
-
-The allotted time had scarce elapsed when Palmer,
-for such was the name of the cordial blade—clerk in
-a mercantile house and friend to Oliver—was at the
-door. Taking Harvey's arm he guided him cheerfully
-through the somewhat dingy hall, ushering him
-into a rather dishevelled room, in separate corners of
-which sat the hospitable Oliver and another boon
-companion, Scottie Forrester by name. Like Oliver,
-Scottie was in newspaper life; his apprenticeship had
-been served in Glasgow.
-
-"Brethren," Palmer said solemnly as they entered,
-"I know you're always glad when we can bring in
-any poor wanderer from the highways or byways. I
-want you to be kind to the stranger for my sake—he
-hasn't had anything to eat since his last meal."
-
-"Sit down, Simmons," directed Oliver. "Don't
-mind Palmer—he's farm-bred, you know, and he
-thinks it's a deuce of an achievement to sit up at
-night. He used to have to go to bed with the calves."
-
-"Now I sit up with the goats," rejoined the once
-rustic Palmer, producing a pipe and calmly proceeding
-to equip it. "But I ought to be in bed. I'm
-played out. I was so tired at dinner to-night I went
-to sleep over the salad course."
-
-"Oh, Lord," broke in Forrester; "hear him prattling
-about night dinners—and he never had anything
-but bread and molasses for supper on the farm. And
-hear him giving us that guff about the salad course,
-as if he was the son of a duke. If you'd lived in
-Glasgow, my boy, they'd have brought you to time
-pretty quick. A man's got to be a gentleman over
-there, I tell you, before he has evening dinners and
-all that sort of thing—did you drink out of the
-finger-bowls, Palmer?"
-
-"You needn't talk, Scottie," growled Oliver. "You
-write your letters at the Arlington—and you get
-your dinner for fifteen cents at Webb's, at the counter,
-with your hat on."
-
-"You're a liar," retorted Scottie, meaning no
-offense whatever. "I've got as good blood inside of
-me as any man in this city; my mother was born in
-Auchterarder Castle and——"
-
-"I wouldn't be found dead in a root-house with a
-name like that," interrupted the agricultural Palmer.
-"Anyhow, I guess she was the cook—and what's
-more, nobody here cares what you've got inside of
-you. But there's poor Simmons—he's our guest—and
-he looks as if he hadn't put anything inside of
-him for a dog's age. Where's the restorative,
-Scottie? It's always you that had it last."
-
-Scottie arose and walked solemnly to a little
-cupboard in the wall. "I'll inform you, Mr. Simmons,"
-he began gravely, his back still turned to the
-company, "that we're here for a double purpose. First,
-we were having a little intellectual conference
-on—on the rise and fall of the Russian empire, as a great
-authority put it. You see, we're a kind of a Samuel
-Johnson coterie—and this is a kind of a Cheshire
-Cheese. I was there once when I was in London."
-
-"He went to London with cattle," informed
-Oliver, striking a match—"he was a swine herd in
-Scotland."
-
-"And I'm Samuel Johnson," pursued Forrester,
-unruffled; "and Palmer, he's Boswell. And we
-have a great time discussing things."
-
-"Who's Oliver?" Harvey enquired with faint interest.
-
-"Oh, yes, I forgot him; Oliver's the cuspidor—you
-ought to be right in the middle of the room,
-Oliver," he continued amiably, turning round with a
-large black bottle in his hand. "And the other
-purpose we're here for, Mr. Simmons, is to celebrate
-Palmer's birthday. We don't know exactly how old
-he is—he's lied about his age so long that he's not sure
-himself. But this is his birthday, anyhow; and they
-sent him up a little present from the farm. It's a
-superior brand of raspberry vinegar, made by an
-aged aunt that's worth twenty thousand and won't die."
-
-"Stop your jack-assery, Forrester," broke in
-Palmer; "you can't fool Simmons—he's got his eye on
-the label."
-
-Which was true enough. Harvey's eye was gleaming,
-staring, like some pallid woodsman's when it
-catches the glare of an Indian's fire.
-
-"That's all right, Simmons," explained Forrester
-calmly; "the bottle happens to bear an honoured
-Glasgow name—and the liquid is worthy of it.
-There isn't a headache in a hogshead—try it and
-see."
-
-Harvey's lips were white and dry. "No, thank
-you, Forrester," he said in a harsh voice that sounded
-far away. "I won't take any."
-
-"Take a little for Palmer's stomach's sake—he's
-had enough."
-
-Harvey refused again. Destitute was his answer
-of all merriment or banter. He stood bolt upright,
-fixed as a statue, his eyes still on the big black thing
-Forrester was holding out in front of him. "Not
-any, Forrester," he said; "I don't want any, I tell you."
-
-"Let him alone, Scottie," interrupted Palmer.
-"Simmons is on the water-waggon, to-night anyhow—and
-besides, that stuff's a dollar and a half a quart."
-
-Forrester was about to comply when Oliver suddenly
-arose from his lounging position and shuffled
-out to where the two were standing. He had already
-familiarized himself with the bottle sufficiently
-to be in a rather hectoring mood.
-
-"Go and sit down, Forrester," he growled out; "I
-guess I'm the host here. And I don't blame
-Simmons for turning up his nose," he went on as he
-turned and opened a little cabinet—"poking a black
-bottle in front of a man as if he were a coal-heaver;
-we're not on the Glasgow cattle market," he added
-contemptuously, producing a couple of glasses and
-handing one to Harvey. "Here, Simmons, drink
-like a gentleman—and I'll drink with you." And
-the sweat came out on Harvey's forehead as the stuff
-poured out, gurgling enticingly as it broke from the
-bottle's mouth. "Here, this is yours; and we'll drink
-to the *Morning Argus*—it'll belong to you some day.
-I heard to-day it's going to change hands soon anyhow."
-
-The mention of the name lent a wealth of resolution
-to Harvey's wavering will. He recalled, his
-heart maddening at the memory, how Oliver had
-pressed this self-same toast before.
-
-"I won't, Oliver," he said, controlling himself.
-"I don't want any."
-
-"Come now, Simmons, don't be foolish; you've
-had a hard night's work, and you look all in—just a
-night cap to help you sleep."
-
-"Look here, Oliver," Harvey's voice rising a little,
-"I guess I know my own mind. I tell you I won't
-drink. I'm under promise. I'm bound over not to
-take anything; and I've got more at stake on it than
-I can afford to lose—so you may as well shut up."
-
-Oliver came a step nearer. "You can't bluff me,
-old man," he said through his teeth, his heavy eyes
-snapping. "And anyhow, I'll pay it," he blustered,
-holding out the fuming glass, a leer of dogged
-cunning on his face. "I'll pay your stake, Simmons."
-
-"You go to hell," hissed Harvey, striking out
-wildly, one hand smashing the bottle in fragments to
-the floor, the other clutching Oliver by the throat;
-"you infernal blood-sucker," as he pressed him
-backward to the wall.
-
-Palmer and Forrester sprang towards the men;
-but before they were able to interfere, Harvey had
-hurled Oliver against the table, which crashed to the
-floor in a heap, Oliver mingling with the wreckage.
-While his guests were helping him to his feet,
-Harvey strode towards the door; the accursed fumes
-rose about him like evil spirits, importunate and
-deadly, clutching at the very heart-strings of his
-will.
-
-Pale and trembling, he turned when he reached
-the door. "Anything more to pay?" he muttered,
-nodding towards Oliver; "does he want to continue
-the argument?"
-
-Oliver made a stifled protest, but his friends
-united to declare that the debate was at an end.
-"Come back, Simmons," appealed Palmer; "don't
-let our little evening break up like this—Oliver's got
-no kick coming. Sit down."
-
-But Harvey uttered an inaudible malediction and
-slammed the door behind him. They could hear
-him finding his way along the unlighted hall.
-
-"You got what was coming to you, old chap,"
-Palmer informed his host; "nobody's got any right
-to badger a fellow the way you did Simmons. It's
-worse than setting fire to a barn—you're a damned
-incendiary," he concluded, resuming the smoke that
-had been so effectually interrupted.
-
-While the debate, thus happily begun, went on its
-vigorous way, Harvey was walking aimlessly about
-the street, caring little whither his steps might lead
-him. After the first gust of excitement had
-subsided a new and delicious sense of victory possessed
-him. Not from having worsted Oliver—that was
-quite forgotten—but from having met and conquered
-his temptation. His breath came fast as he recalled,
-how stern and sore had the conflict been; but a kind
-of elation he had never known before mingled with
-the memory of it all. For he had won—and under
-the most trying circumstances—and he smiled to
-himself as he thought how he had passed through
-the ordeal. Its most hopeful feature was for the
-future; it was a pledge of how he might hope to
-prevail if the fight should ever be renewed. Reassured,
-he even fell to thinking of other things; of his
-promise to his mother—had she seen his struggle
-and gloried in his victory, he wondered; and of
-Jessie, faithful ally; and of his profession and his
-progress in it. He recalled, as though it had occurred
-long ago, Oliver's prediction that he would some day
-own the *Argus*—and his fierce anger towards Oliver
-abated a little. Yet all this was insignificant, he
-reflected, compared to the progress he was making
-along higher lines.
-
-But the elation did not last. Fatigue crept upon
-him. And he was chilled; he was hungry, too.
-Besides, the nervous strain had been a severe one,
-and the reaction was correspondingly acute. Gradually
-the tide ceased to flow, then stood stationary a
-moment—then began ebbing fast. And the sense of
-victory paled and died; the thrill of exultation passed
-away; the ardour of battle and of conquest chilled
-within him. And again his lips became parched,
-his hand again unsteady, his nerves again unstrung.
-And the dreadful thirst returned. To the swept and
-garnished house the evil spirit crept back with
-muffled tread, hopeful of a better tenure.
-
-The stoutest castle is easily taken if its lord has
-ceased to watch. Or if he be absent, the capture is
-easier still—especially if he be gone to feast on
-former battle fields where his right arm brought him
-victory.
-
-Wherefore Harvey's second struggle was brief and
-pitiful; the enemy had caught him unawares. And
-more shrill and impatient than before was the whistle
-that sounded soon again beneath Oliver's still lighted
-window. And his welcome was not less cordial,
-Oliver himself taking the leading part.
-
-"What in thunder's the matter, Simmons?" enquired
-Palmer; "you look as if you'd been through
-a threshing machine."
-
-Harvey paid no attention. His blood-shot eyes
-looked about the room, searching for something.
-His hand was shaking, and every now and then he
-ran his tongue over the withered lips; the blood
-seemed to have left his cheek.
-
-"I've changed my mind," he began huskily; "I'm
-not well—and I'll take some of that, if you don't
-mind. Just a little—but I've got to get braced up
-or I'll collapse."
-
-Forrester whistled. "The spring's gone dry, old
-man," he said. "I'm cruel sorry—but it was that
-little gesture of yours that did it."
-
-Harvey's eyes looked around imploringly. The
-pungent fumes were still rising from the floor,
-goading his appetite to madness.
-
-"I'm afraid that's right, Simmons," added Oliver;
-"there's a teaspoonful there in the heel of the
-bottle—but it's not enough to make a swallow."
-
-"Where is it?" muttered Harvey, starting to
-where the broken fragments lay.
-
-He found it; and even those who had tried so hard
-to overbear him a little while before cast pitying
-glances as he stooped down, trembling, lifting the
-bottom of the bottle in both his shaky hands, lifting
-it carefully and holding it to his lips till the last drop
-was drained.
-
-It was but a few minutes till he resumed the quest.
-"Must be some more lying round somewhere," he
-said, with a smile that was pitiful to see.
-
-"Afraid not," said Oliver; "that was the last."
-
-"What's in that cabinet?" Harvey urged, rising
-to his feet.
-
-"No go, Simmons, I'm afraid," muttered Forrester;
-"if there was any round, Oliver'd know it—when
-he gives up, there ain't any."
-
-Harvey got up and went over to Palmer, throwing
-his arm about his shoulder. "I say, old man,"
-he began, controlling his voice as best he could,
-"you don't know how bad I'm feeling. And you've
-got a flask with you, haven't you, Palmer?—I
-wouldn't ask you, only I'm feeling so tough. Had a
-hard time of it in the office to-night."
-
-Palmer looked hard at him. "If I had a tankful I
-wouldn't give you a drop, Simmons," he said.
-
-Harvey winced. And he stood looking into Palmer's
-face like a guilty man, his eyes gradually turning
-away in confusion before the other's searching
-gaze. A hot flush of shame, not yet unfamiliar
-flowed over cheek and brow. But it was only for a
-moment—these better symptoms retreated before the
-flame that consumed him. "I'm going out," he said
-presently, his eyes turning heavily from one face to
-the other, his parched lips trembling.
-
-"If you've got to have it, I think I know a place
-we can get in—I'm sure I do," drawled Oliver,
-yawning. "But bed's the place for all of us."
-
-Harvey was all alive. "Come on, old chap," he
-exclaimed eagerly; "that's a good fellow—here's
-your hat. It won't take long," he added assuringly,
-moving towards the door.
-
-There was little reluctance on Oliver's part. And
-a few minutes later the two went out together arm
-in arm, the victor and the vanquished—but
-vanquished both. It was Harvey who clung close,
-almost fondly, to the other; no memory of Oliver's
-share in his undoing, no hatred of the assassin-hand
-tempered the flow of fellowship between them now.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-The morning had not yet come. But passion's
-gust was over and sated appetite refused.
-
-"I'm going home," said Harvey, his voice unnatural,
-his feet unsteady.
-
-"Not yet," said Oliver—"let's make a night of it."
-
-"A night of it!" exclaimed the other bitterly.
-"Good God, Oliver!"
-
-"Come on," said his companion doggedly. "Come
-with me—we'll both see the thing through."
-
-"Come where?" said Harvey.
-
-"You'll see. Come down this alley here—wait a
-minute."
-
-Three or four minutes had elapsed; they were still
-walking.
-
-"There," said Oliver, standing still; "can you
-see that light?—there, in that upper window."
-
-He saw it. It gleamed sinister, significant, through
-the mirk; blacker than the deepest darkness was its
-baneful light.
-
-"What about it?" said Harvey.
-
-Oliver said something in a low voice; then he
-laughed.
-
-Simmons turned full on his companion. The
-moon was setting, but its latest beams still shed a
-fitful light. And they showed Harvey's face flushed
-and worn, the eyes unnatural in their heaviness and
-gloom. But there was a strange redeeming light in
-them as they fixed themselves on Oliver, the light of
-indignant scorn; any who had known his mother
-would have recognized something of the old-time
-light that had glowed from her face before the
-darkness veiled it.
-
-Harvey's heavy eyes flashed as he spoke. "Oliver,"
-he said, and the tone was haughty, old-time pride
-struggling against fearful odds as the sun writhes its
-way through the mist; "Oliver, if you're going to
-the devil, you can go alone. I'm not quite gone yet,
-thank God. I'm a good many kinds of a fool, I
-know—but I'm not that kind—I'm not a sot. And
-Oliver," coming closer up to him, "I'll admit I'm as
-much to blame for to-night as you are—but we're
-done, Oliver, now. We're done with each
-other—forever. D'ye hear, Oliver?" as he turned and
-started back up the shadowy lane.
-
-Oliver blinked after him a moment; then he went
-on towards the light, into the darkness.
-
-
-
-
-
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-.. _`HARVEY'S UNSEEN DELIVERER`:
-
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-
- \XXXII
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
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- *HARVEY'S UNSEEN DELIVERER*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-The succeeding day was melting softly into dusk.
-
-While it may be true that none can utterly
-affirm, it is equally true that none can finally
-deny, the ministry of the dead. Probably none
-altogether rejects the thought except those who
-disbelieve in the immortality of the soul. For if
-death be but the disenthrallment of the spirit, and its
-engraftment on the infinite, how thus should its
-noblest passion cease or its holiest industry suffer
-interruption? We may not know; though mayhap we
-may still receive. If beneficiaries we are of the
-unforgetting dead, we are unconscious of it—and this
-too shall swell the sum of that great surprise that
-awaits us in eternity.
-
-Some unconscious influence had brooded about
-Harvey through the day. Except for a few brief
-minutes with Miss Farringall and Jessie, during
-which neither had spoken much, the long hours had
-been spent alone. And the solitude had seemed to
-teem at times; with what, he scarcely knew. Shame
-and discomfiture and fear had thronged his heart, and
-the day was one of such humiliation as cloistered
-monk might rejoice to know. Not that he was
-conscious of the process, nor did he even inwardly call
-it by any such name as that. But he knew that he
-had been beaten—beaten, too, in the very hour that
-had thrilled with the confidence of victory. More
-than once, recounting his defects one by one, and
-recalling his frequent vows, was he on the verge of
-self-contempt; against this he fought as if for life.
-
-As the day wore slowly by, the struggle deepened.
-A strange heart-chilling fear of the night began to
-possess him. Looking from the window of his room,
-he could see the westering sun and the lengthening
-shadows; both seemed to point the hour of returning
-conflict.
-
-He tried in vain to dismiss this strange misgiving.
-The sun crept slowly closer to the glowing west, and
-its silent course seemed to have something ominous
-about it, solemnly departing as if it knew the peril of
-the crafty dark. He tried to read, but his eyes
-slipped on the words. Turning to one of his dead
-mother's letters, he sought the comfort of the loving
-words; but he found no shelter there, and the relentless
-thirst kept deepening in his heart. Then he
-tried to recall some of the gayer scenes of departed
-college days; their mirth was turned to ashes now.
-
-Finally, and with a bounding heart, like a fugitive
-whose eyes descry some long-sought place of refuge,
-he bethought himself of the Bible his mother had
-hidden in his trunk when first he had left her care.
-Reverently, passionately, hopefully he made his way
-to many a tree of life within it—but its shade seemed
-riven above him and the fierce heat still searched his
-soul.
-
-With a stifled cry he sprang from the bed, despairing
-of reinforcement elsewhere than in his own
-beleaguered heart. He would fight it out, though the
-fight should kill him. The strange sinking fell again
-upon his spirit and the unearthly fires burned anew
-within him. His lips again were parched and his
-shaking hand all but refused to do the bidding of his will.
-He had not tasted food throughout the day; yet the
-thought of food was intolerable. What tormented
-him most was the thought, presenting itself again and
-again, that if he had but the smallest allowance of
-stimulant the pain would be at an end and the
-threatened collapse averted. But he knew how false
-and seductive was the plea, and resisted. Yet what
-could he do?—this unequal conflict could not endure.
-The perspiration stood in beads upon his brow,
-though he was shaken with chills as by an ague.
-Defiant, his resolution rallied as he noted the
-symptoms of his weakness. A kind of grim anger
-gathered as he felt the deadly persistence of his
-enemy; and his step was almost firm as he walked
-to the door of his room. He locked it swiftly,
-putting the key in his pocket, stamping his foot as he
-turned away.
-
-This seemed to help him some. It made him feel
-at least that he had come to close quarters with his
-destroyer, shut up alone with his dread antagonist.
-Herein was the hopefulness of the situation, that he
-had come to recognize the strength of his enemy and
-the portent of the struggle. Had he been locked in
-the same room with a madman the situation could
-not have been more real.
-
-Suddenly a strange thing befell him. Some would
-explain it in terms of an overwrought nervous system,
-some in terms of a disordered fancy. It matters not.
-But Harvey heard, amid the wild tumult of that twilight
-hour—he heard his mother's voice. Only once it
-came—and the sweet notes slowly died, like the tones
-of some rich bell across a waste of waters—but he
-heard it and his whole soul stood still to listen. He
-caught its message in an instant; the whole meaning
-of it was wonderfully clear, and his heart answered
-and obeyed with instant gladness. For it seemed to
-point the way to rest, and victory, and healing.
-
-He glanced at his watch. There was just time to
-catch the train; and without pause or hesitation he
-unlocked the door and passed out into the street. A
-word to a servant, to allay wonder at his absence, was
-his only farewell.
-
-What greyhound of the seas is swift enough to
-outrun the greedy gulls that follow? And what heart,
-however swiftly borne, can escape its besetting sin?
-It may ascend up into heaven, or make its bed in hell,
-or take the wings of the morning, or plunge into the
-lair of darkness—but temptation never quits the chase.
-Thus was poor Harvey pursued as the bounding
-train plunged through the darkness towards his far-off
-boyhood home. Still the battle waged, and still the
-fangs of appetite kept groping for his heart and
-clutching at his will. But he endured as seeing
-the invisible; and the City of Refuge came ever nearer.
-
-As they came closer to Glenallen—when they were
-almost there—peering through the dark, he caught
-now and then a fleeting glimpse of the scenes of
-other days; fences that he had climbed; elms beneath
-whose shelter he had played; braes he had roamed
-and burns he had waded and brooks he had fished,
-he smiled, as the inward pain still smote him and the
-dreadful craving burned—it seemed all but impossible
-that life could have changed so much, the evening
-shadows threatening before its noon had come. And
-he felt, in a dim unreasoning way—what other men
-have felt—as if he had been somehow tricked out of
-the sweetness of youth, its glory faded and its fruitage
-withered before he had known they were there.
-
-The streets of his native town were hushed as he
-hurried towards his home. Nearing the familiar
-scene, he paused, standing still. He felt a kind of
-awesome fear and his head was bowed as he crept
-close to the humble door. Suddenly he lifted his
-eyes, survey ing the well-remembered outlines through
-the gloom. And suddenly they seemed transfigured
-before him, speaking out their welcome in tender
-silence as though they recognized the heart-sore
-wanderer. It was with little difficulty that he effected
-an entrance, a half-hidden window in the rear yielding
-readily.
-
-The stillness within almost overcame him. Yet
-there must have been holy power in it; for the evil
-spirit that had haunted him seemed to retreat before
-it; and his groping eyes fell now on this familiar
-thing and now on that, each an ally to his struggling
-soul. He could see but dimly, but they were all
-beautiful, each telling some story of the sacred days
-that would come no more. He felt his way through
-the little hall into the room where he had last looked
-upon his mother's face. He stood where he had
-stood before—and he looked down. Long musing,
-he turned and made his way up-stairs. As he passed
-the half-open door on his way, he could see the
-shadowy outline of the little store, as Miss Adair had
-left it for the night, the petty wares consorting ill
-with the significance of the hour. Yet the nobility
-of all for which it stood broke afresh upon him.
-
-Ascending the creaking stairs, he stopped and
-listened. It seemed as if some voice must speak—for
-silence like to this he had never known before.
-But all was still, wondrously still—this was the silence
-of death. He glanced into Jessie's room; relics of
-her sore toil were still scattered about; all was as she
-had left it when she had started on her visit to the city.
-
-Then he entered his mother's room. With head
-bowed low and with noiseless step, as devout pilgrims
-invade some holy shrine, he passed within the door.
-Then he lifted his eyes—the night seemed to stay its
-hand—and he could see here and there traces of his
-mother's life, many of them undisturbed. An apron
-that she used to wear, folded now and spotless white,
-laid aside by Jessie's loving hands; a knitted shawl
-that had so often enclosed the fragile form; the
-unfinished knitting from which the needles should never
-be withdrawn. Then he gave a great start, muffling
-a cry—for he thought he saw a face. But it was his
-own, moving in shadowy whiteness as he passed the
-little mirror—he marvelled at his timidity amid such
-scenes of love.
-
-He sank on the bed and buried his face in his
-hands. He was trembling, yet not with fear. But
-something seemed to tell him that he was not alone;
-no tempter, no turgid appetite, no relentless passion
-assailed him now. He was safe, he felt, like some
-ancient fugitive falling breathless before a sacred
-altar—but he felt that he was not alone. Some
-unseen power seemed to be about him, an influence so
-gentle, a caress so tender, a keeping so holy as time
-could not provide. He did not seek to reason with
-the strange sensation, or to solve, or to define; but
-his soul lay open to the mystic influence in helplessness
-and hope, the ministry of the awful silence having
-its way with his broken and baffled life.
-
-Almost without knowing it, he rose and made his
-way to the little table by the window; something
-dark lay upon it. The touch told him in a moment
-what it was—his mother's Bible, that Jessie had
-begged him to leave for her. His hand trembled as
-he took it up; it opened of itself and he peered
-downward on the well-worn page. But it was dark, and
-he could only see enough to know that one particular
-verse was gently underscored. Fumbling for a
-match, he lit it and its glow fell upon the words:
-
-"Unto Him that is able to keep you from falling
-and to present you faultless."
-
-The message flashed upon his soul with the import
-of eternal hope. He closed the book violently, as if
-something might escape, and sank again upon the
-bed. He felt as if God Himself had spoken through
-the shadows and the silence. His face was again
-buried in his hands, but his heart was running riot
-with its exuberance of feeling, of purpose, of hope
-from far-off fountains fed. There gleamed before
-him a vision of the reality of it all, the real truth that
-a worsted heart may find strength somewhere higher
-up, away beyond this scene of human struggle—and
-that the most stained and wasted life might yet
-become a holy thing, again presented to the great God
-whose grace had saved it, a faultless life at last.
-
-Thus he sat, nor knew how long, while the
-regenerating moments flew. He was recalled by feeling
-something fall at his feet. Stooping, he picked it
-up; it was a letter, fallen from the leaves of the book
-he held. A brief search revealed a candle on a chair
-beside the bed. This he lit, holding the fitful flame
-above the missive now spread out before him. The
-letter was from his mother and addressed to him.
-A swift look at the date explained why it had never
-been sent—she had been busy with it when he had
-unexpectedly returned the night of Madeline's party.
-His eyes burned their way over the opening sentences,
-all uneven as they were, the unsteady hand having
-found its course as best it could. And the gentle
-epistle had come to a sudden close—the letter had
-never been completed. But his eyes were fixed in
-almost fierce intensity upon the last words—probably
-the last the dear hand had ever written. "And
-I'm praying, my son," thus ran the great assurance,
-"as I shall never cease to pray, that He will make
-His grace sufficient for you and that..."
-
-He arose, recalling where his mother was wont to
-pray. Had she not told him, and had Jessie not
-spoken of it often? Beside his own bed, he knew—there,
-where he once had slept the sleep of childhood
-in the innocent and happy days of yore; there had
-been her altar, where, kneeling before God, she had
-pleaded that the keeping and guidance of the Highest
-might be vouchsafed her absent son. Thither he
-turned his steps, his heart aflame within him; one
-hand still held his mother's Bible, the other the
-precious letter. And he laid them both before the
-Throne, sacred things, familiar to the all-seeing Eye,
-pledges of a faith that must not be denied.
-
-The silence still reigned about the bended form.
-But it was vocal with unspoken vows, the vows of a
-soul that unseen hands, wasted once and worn but
-radiant now and beautiful, had beckoned to the
-Mercy Seat. He could not see the bending face; he
-could not know the exultation of the triumphant
-one—but he knew that the dear spirit shared with
-him the rapture of that hour when his mother's
-prayers were answered, when his soul came back to God.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`PLAIN LIVING AND HIGH THINKING`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXXIII
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *PLAIN LIVING AND HIGH THINKING*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-The day slipped past in quiet solitude,
-marked by the peace of penitence and
-inward chastening; convalescence is the
-sweetest experience of the soul and the outlook to
-the eternal is its rest. Harvey felt in no hurry to
-leave the pavilion-home, thronged as it was with
-blessed memories. But when the evening fell, a
-curious eagerness quickened his steps towards David
-Borland's altered home. He had not visited it before.
-Drawing near, the first figure he descried was that
-of David himself, engaged in the very diminutive
-garden that lay beside the house. He had not
-noticed Harvey's approach. A shade of pain darkened
-the eye of the younger man as, unobserved, he
-took a keen survey of the older face. For not alone
-was David more thin and worn; his cheeks had lost
-their colour, pinched and pale, and it required no
-special acuteness to detect how changed he was from
-the robust David of former years. Suddenly lifting
-his head, Mr. Borland saw Harvey close at hand; he
-dropped the light tool he was holding, hurrying to
-greet the visitor.
-
-"You're as welcome as a registered letter," he
-cried in his old hearty way; "come on an' sit down—there's
-nothin' tastes so good in a new house as an
-old friend. I've been hungerin' for a mouthful of
-you. I was jest doin' a little work," he explained—"when
-a fellow's got to work hard, nothin' makes it
-so easy as doin' a little more. I'm goin' to raise
-some flowers," he went on, pointing to a tiny bed;
-"nothin' pays like flowers—it pays better than
-manufacturin', I think sometimes. Here, sit beside
-me on the bench," for David seemed willing to rest.
-"How's Jessie?" he asked presently, his general
-observations concluded.
-
-"Lovely," answered Harvey. "She's visiting
-Miss Farringall."
-
-"So I believe. They say Miss Farringall's lovely
-too, ain't she?"
-
-Harvey pronounced a eulogy.
-
-"She's an old maid, ain't she?"
-
-"I suppose some would call her that," was Harvey's
-rather deliberate reply.
-
-"Oh, that's all right," David assured him; "I don't
-mean no disrespect. Most old maids is reg'lar
-angels—with variations. I often tell the missus if I
-was ever left alone I'd probably marry again, out of
-respect for her—there's nothin' like an encore to
-show you've enjoyed the first performance—an' I
-always say I'd take an old maid. Of course, I might
-change my mind," David went on gravely; "most
-old fools does, takes up with some little gosling that
-ought to be in school. An' I've noticed how the
-fellows that yelps the loudest at the funeral begins
-takin' notice the soonest—they don't most gen'rally
-stay in long for repairs," he concluded solemnly,
-scraping the clay from his boot-heel as he spoke.
-
-"If Miss Farringall's an old maid," Harvey
-resumed, "she's one of the nicest I ever knew—and
-one of the happiest too, I think."
-
-"Old maids is pretty much all happy," pronounced
-David, "that is, when they stop strugglin'—but most
-of 'em dies hard. They'd all be happy if they'd only
-do what I heard a preacher advisin' once. I was
-mad as a hatter, too."
-
-"What about?" asked Harvey wonderingly.
-
-"Well, I'll tell you. It was at a funeral in a
-church—last year, I think—an' after the service was
-over he came out to the front o' the pulpit. 'The
-congregation 'll remain seated,' says he, 'till the
-casket has went down the aisle; then the mourners
-will follow, an' the clergy 'll follow them. After that,'
-says he, 'after that, the congregation will quietly
-retire.' Quietly, mind you!" said David sternly;
-"did he think we was goin' to give three cheers for
-the corpse, I wonder?" and he looked earnestly at
-Harvey for approval of his indignation. "But I've
-often thought, jest the same, how much happier
-everybody'd be, 'specially old maids, if they'd only
-retire quietly."
-
-"I'll have to tell that to the editor of the funny
-column," Harvey said when his composure had returned;
-"and I'll send it on to you when it appears
-in the *Argus*."
-
-"I'm a subscriber to that paper now," David
-said complacently; "how 're you gettin' along?—like
-the editin' business pretty good?"
-
-"Fine," Harvey assured him cordially. Then he
-told, as modestly as he could, of what success he
-had achieved and of his prospects of promotion.
-
-"Where you got the start was goin' into it as
-soon as you left school," David averred; "there's
-nothin' like gettin' at your work early. That's why
-I advise gettin' up a little afore day—for other folks.
-You see, you'll get the hang of it—of editin', I
-mean—afore you're set in your ways. If you want to
-succeed these days, you've got to take time by the
-fetlock, as one of them old philosophers said. That's
-what makes all the difference between two fellows;
-one'll waste his time gallivantin' round, while the
-other's learnin' all about his business an' gettin' ready
-for somethin' big. Now, there's poor Cecil, for
-instance—you've heard what's come o' Cecil?"
-
-"No," answered Harvey, sitting up very straight.
-"No, I haven't heard anything—has anything happened?"
-
-"Oh, nothin' terrible important. Only he's off
-for Africa—went last week. He was foolin' an'
-fiddlin' round, spongin' on his father—an' he got
-into one or two little scrapes. An' his father kind o'
-got tired of it—an' Cecil got a chance of some kind
-of a job with some company that's buildin' a railroad
-or somethin' in South Africa. An' the old man let
-him go—so he's gone," David concluded earnestly,
-"an' I reckon punchin' mules is about the highest
-position o' trust he'll be occupyin'. Let's go into
-the house."
-
-"Is Cecil going to stay long in Africa?" Harvey
-asked as they walked along.
-
-"He won't likely be back to tea very often,"
-ventured David. "Jemima! I'm so short in the
-wind now," his breath coming fast. "I don't much
-calculate he'll be back till the walkin's good—unless
-the old man fetches him," a droll smile showing on
-David's face, as they entered the little house.
-
-"Sorry Madeline's not in," Mr. Borland began as
-he sank into a chair; "she works pretty steady now,
-poor child—they say she's a reg'lar dabster at that
-wood-work. She paints chiny too," he went on,
-pride in the voice—"I think she's out at Hyman's,
-burnin' it, this evenin'. Sit down, Harvey," motioning
-towards a chair, for his guest was standing in a
-spasm of attentiveness. "It's a bit different from
-the old place, ain't it?" as he looked round the
-humble room.
-
-"It's just as good," said Harvey bluntly, rather at
-a loss.
-
-"That's where you're shoutin'," David responded,
-something of his old-time vigour in the tone. "It's
-jest every bit as good. When I'm settin' here in the
-evenin'—I don't work so very hard; they gave me a
-nice easy job at the office—an' Madeline's puttin' on
-my slippers or runnin' her fingers round my old gray
-head, when I shut my eyes I can't tell the difference.
-Never did set in only one chair," he mused as if to
-himself, "never did wear but one pair o' slippers,
-never did have but one Madeline to cure my
-headaches an' my heartaches an' everythin' like that.
-An' I like the lamp better'n the old sulky gas—an'
-we've got the best pump in the county," he went on
-enthusiastically—"right out there; it's far better'n
-the old tap water. So we're jest as happy, Harvey."
-
-Harvey smiled, and lovingly, at the beaming face.
-
-"An' I can prove it," the old man suddenly
-resumed. "I can prove it," he repeated eagerly.
-"See that fireplace there?" pointing to the hearth
-on which the wood was already laid. "Put a match
-to it, Harvey—you're younger than me. Set it
-agoin', Harvey, an' I'll show you—it's gettin' coolish,
-anyhow."
-
-Harvey did as directed. The shavings led the
-flame upward to the little twigs, and the twigs hurried
-it on to the willing cedar, and the cedar lit the
-way to the gnarled pine knots; these opened their
-bosoms to the flame and soon the leaping tongues
-began their glad crusade against the shadows, a
-revelry of sight and sound flooding the room with
-light and music.
-
-"There!" cried David jubilantly. "Tell me the
-difference if you can—ain't that the very same as it
-used to be in the great big house? Didn't I tell you
-I could prove it?—there ain't no difference, Harvey;
-it's jest the very same," he repeated once again,
-rejoicing in the great truth he found so difficult to
-express. "An' that's what I always trained myself to
-believe," he went on after a long pause. "I always
-believed in simple livin'—even when I had lots o'
-chance the other way. Didn't I, Harvey?" he
-pursued, gazing into the other's eyes through the
-glow.
-
-"That you did, Mr. Borland," Harvey affirmed.
-"And that's why it comes so easy to you now."
-
-"That was how I knew poor Mr. Craig was on the
-wrong tack," David pursued thoughtfully. "I
-spotted the signs as soon as they began; when he
-started callin' his sideboard a 'buffy'—an' when he
-began sayin' 'blue mange' instead o' cornstarch; I
-heard him at his own table—an' callin' 'Johnny-cake'
-corn-cake—an' referrin' to the cuspidor when
-he meant a spittoon—when he began them tony
-names, I knew it was all up with poor Mr. Craig.
-When a man gets so dainty that his horses stop
-sweatin' an' begin perspirin', he ain't much good for
-common folks after that. That's why Mr. Craig
-wanted so bad to be mayor—jest that buffy idea,
-same thing," David explained pityingly. "An' then
-it wasn't long till he made the foolishest break of
-all," he went on; "d'ye know what it was?" as he
-looked enquiringly at Harvey; "you'd never guess."
-
-"No idea," admitted Harvey.
-
-"Well, he began takin' his dinner at supper time.
-Leastways, he began callin' it dinner—an' it's a
-terrible bad sign when a fellow begins takin' dinner
-when the dew's fallin'. His old father used to say:
-'Well, I reckon it's time to feed again,' but Craig
-always said he guessed he'd have to go home to
-dinner—an' he wasn't never the same man after he
-begun that kind o' foolishness," David affirmed
-seriously. "The only other man I ever heard
-callin' supper dinner was a terrible rich fellow from
-New York. He had a summer cottage on Lake
-Joseph; he used to bring his own doctor with him,
-an' his own minister—an' his own undertaker. An'
-he took his dinner about bedtime," David concluded
-mournfully.
-
-"Makin' out pretty good at the newspaper
-business, Harvey?" David asked presently, some
-minor themes disposed of.
-
-Harvey pondered. He was thinking of many
-things. "Do you mean financially, Mr. Borland?"
-he asked at length.
-
-"Yes, I reckon so; you're climbin' up the ladder a
-bit, ain't you?"
-
-"I'm getting along pretty well, that way," Harvey
-replied. "And I think I'm getting an insight into
-the business. They say the *Argus* is going to
-change hands—but that won't affect my position at all."
-
-"Pity you couldn't get a-hold of it," said David
-reflectively. "But don't worry about that, my boy.
-Don't never be disappointed if success don't come as
-fast as you think it should. It nearly always slips
-through a fellow's fingers at the last—so don't get set
-up on it. I'm gettin' to be an old man now; an' if
-there's one thing I've learned better'n another, it's
-how a man don't have them things in his own hands.
-I believe every man's jest runnin' on the time-table
-that's laid out for him; an' he'll spoil everythin' if he
-tries too much to interfere. Often we think we're
-terrible smart. An' mebbe we are—but we find out
-sooner or later we've got to walk the plank, an' it's
-queer how we get jockeyed jest when we think we're
-at the winnin' post. We're pretty handy with the
-rod an' the reel—but God handles the landin'-net
-Himself. That's why the biggest ones most gen'rally
-always get away," and David nodded his head
-seriously as he peered into Harvey's eyes.
-
-"I'd sooner win along other lines than that," mused
-Harvey.
-
-"Than what?"
-
-"Than the money way. That isn't everything."
-
-"That there was a beautiful thing you done in the
-cemetery," David digressed suddenly. "That there
-was high finance."
-
-"What?" asked the bewildered Harvey.
-
-"You know," said the other—"your mother's
-gravestone. I didn't know nothin' about it till
-Madeline took some flowers out one evenin'. That
-was lovely, Harvey."
-
-Harvey's voice was thick. "That was the first
-money I ever saved, Mr. Borland," he said after a
-long silence; "the only money I ever saved."
-
-"Savin's like them is holy," David said simply.
-"An' I'm goin' to tell you somethin', Harvey," as
-he braced himself for the purpose. "An' I'm goin'
-to trust you not to tell any one—not any one in the
-world."
-
-Harvey turned to gaze into the earnest face.
-
-"I don't know jest why it should be so hard to
-tell," David began calmly. "But it's this, Harvey—my
-day's jest about done—I ain't goin' to be here
-much longer, Harvey. No, don't now, please," he
-pleaded as he stretched out his hand towards the livid
-youth, already leaping to his feet. "Don't, Harvey,
-don't—but it's true. An' I've known it a good
-while now; the doctor told me long ago," he continued
-calmly. "My old heart thinks it's jest about
-quittin' time, it seems. An' I don't blame it a terrible
-lot—it's had a long day's work, an' I reckon it's a
-good deal like me, kind o' ready for its rest," the
-tired voice went on. "That's where the trouble is,
-anyhow," he affirmed placidly, "but I never told
-nobody—a fellow ought to burn his own smoke, I think,
-an' not let it trouble other people. But I've told you
-now, Harvey—so you won't be so terrible surprised
-when ... And besides," his voice breaking for
-the first time, "besides—I wanted to tell you
-somethin' else, my boy—I wanted to tell you—how—how
-much I loved you, Harvey—for fear—for fear I
-mightn't have another chance," as the tired face went
-downward to his hands, the hot tears trickling
-between the fingers that were so thin and worn.
-
-The room was hushed in silence as Harvey's
-tear-stained face was bowed beside his friend. He spoke
-no word, and no touch of tenderness was felt except
-the slow tightening of his arm about the furrowed
-neck, holding the quivering form close in strong and
-silent fondness. David spoke at length. "I want
-you to come along with me, Harvey."
-
-"Where?" Harvey asked in a startled voice.
-
-"Oh, not there," said David, smiling. "You
-thought I meant the long, long road. No, not that;
-but I'm goin' to the communion, Harvey—that's
-what I meant—I'm goin' to join the church."
-
-"I'm glad," said Harvey after a long stillness.
-
-"I nearly joined once afore," David went on.
-"I reckon you remember when I had that meetin'
-with the elders—kind o' run agin a snag, I did. An'
-mebbe I ain't much worthier yet—but I see it different.
-I ain't much of a Christian, I know—but I'm a
-kind of a sinner saved by grace. An' I'd kind o'
-like to own up in front of everybody afore—afore it's
-too late," he said, his voice almost inaudible.
-
-"When?" asked Harvey.
-
-"Next Sunday," answered David. "But I didn't
-go up agin the elders this time, mind you—I
-wouldn't," he went on stoutly. "It seems to me a
-fellow ain't no more called on to tell a lot of
-elders—human elders—about them things, an' his soul, than
-he is to tell 'em about his love-makin'; so I jest
-went to Dr. Fletcher, an' I told him what I felt about—about
-Christ—an' I said I felt like I'd had a bid from
-some One higher up. An' Dr. Fletcher said no elder
-wasn't to have a look-in this time. So I'm goin',
-Harvey—an' it'd be an awful comfort if you an' me
-went together. It's quite a spell since you was there,
-ain't it, Harvey?"
-
-The fire had gone out upon the hearth. And
-Harvey spoke never a word amid the thickening gloom.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`THE OVERFLOWING HOUR`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXXIV
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *THE OVERFLOWING HOUR*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-The light had almost faded from the sky and
-the stealthy shadows were settling down
-about Glenallen as Harvey strode towards
-one of the hills that kept their ancient watch about
-the town. He did not know whither his course was
-tending; nor did he greatly care, for many and
-conflicting were the thoughts that employed him as he
-walked.
-
-Still fresh and vivid, almost overpowering sometimes,
-was his sense of loss and shame. The defilement
-of his besetting sin, and the humiliation of a
-life so nearly honeycombed, and the tragedy of a
-will so nearly sold to slavery—all these had their
-stern influence on his soul. The bruised and beaten
-past rose afresh before him; and if ever human heart
-felt its own weakness, and human life its own
-unworthiness, it was as Harvey Simmons climbed that
-solitary hill amid the deepening dusk. Mingling
-with his sense of shame was the realization of all that
-it must cost him—for his manhood would refuse to
-claim what only a worthier manhood could fairly win.
-
-Passing strange it was that at that very moment,
-the moment of true self-reproach and humiliation,
-his roving eyes should suddenly have been
-startled as they fell on two white-clad figures that
-were climbing the hill behind him. One of them he
-recognized in an instant—it was Madeline—and his
-heart almost frightened him, so violently did it leap.
-He struggled to repress the rising tide—for the test
-had come sooner than he thought—but a thrill of
-passion swept through all his frame.
-
-Yet his resolve strengthened in his heart—the
-purpose that had been forming within him through
-many days. The resolve of a hero, too, it was; and
-the native strength of the man flowed anew, stern
-and unconquerable, as he made the great renunciation.
-Not that he loved the less; the more, rather.
-And not because he doubted that her heart answered,
-if perhaps less ardently, to his own. He saw again,
-as he had never ceased to see, the withered flowers
-in her hand. That picture he had cherished ever
-since, deep hidden in his deepest heart—patiently
-waiting, till his achievements and his station should
-warrant him to come back and drink to all eternity
-where he had but sipped before.
-
-He knew now that this should never be. He
-thought, and swift and lurid was the image, of his own
-father, and of his mother's broken heart, and of the
-baneful legacy that had been his own—and of the
-shrouded chapter that had been so carefully kept
-from him, tight shut like the chamber of the dead.
-He knew, besides all this, that he loved too well to
-offer Madeline a life that was not intrinsically worthy;
-if accounted worthy, it could only be by the shelter
-of a living lie. Thus was his resolve taken,
-anguish-born. Yet his hungering heart cried out that it
-could not go its way in silence—this luxury at least
-it claimed, to tell its story and to say farewell.
-
-He turned and made his way downward to the
-approaching pair. Lifting his hat as he came close, he
-spoke Madeline's name and stood still. Her surprise
-seemed to seal her lips at first, but he could see
-through the gloaming what inflamed his heart afresh.
-
-"I heard you were in Glenallen," her low voice
-began, "but I didn't expect to see you. When did
-you come? Oh, pardon me, let me introduce you to
-my friend," as she spoke her companion's name.
-
-He removed his hat again and bowed. One or
-two commonplaces passed.
-
-"Where are you going?" Harvey asked abruptly.
-
-"We're going to see a little girl that's sick; she
-lives on the first farm outside the town. She's one of
-my class," Madeline explained, "and I asked Miss
-Brodie to accompany me—my friend lives in that
-house yonder," pointing to a residence near the foot
-of the hill; "it gets dark so early now."
-
-"I'll go with you myself," said Harvey.
-
-"What?" was all Madeline said, her voice unsteady.
-
-"I'll go with you myself," he repeated; "Miss
-Brodie won't mind—we'll see her home first. I wish
-to speak with you," and without further explanation
-he turned to lead the way to Miss Brodie's home.
-
-Madeline's protest came, but it was weak and
-trembling. And her companion spoke no word
-except to give assent. For there seemed to be some
-strange authority about the silent man; something in
-his voice, or manner, or in the drawn face that looked
-into the distance through the fading light. They
-could not tell; but they followed as he led.
-Madeline's hand trembled as it made its way into her
-friend's; a moment later she withdrew it, walking on
-alone. But her bosom rose and fell with the movement
-of that eternal mystery that so many a maiden's
-heart has known, that none has ever solved. And
-her eyes were moist and dim, she knew not why;
-and now and then a strange quiver shook the graceful
-form, protesting, reluctant, half-rebellious, yet at
-the mercy of something she could neither fathom nor
-deny.
-
-Bidding Miss Brodie good-night, they retraced
-their steps and pressed on towards the outskirts of
-the town. Perhaps both wondered why they walked
-so fast, Madeline wondering, indeed, why she walked
-at all. But there was something indescribably
-sweet about the strange mastery in which he seemed
-to hold her—and her eyes smiled, though she was
-trembling, as she looked ahead into the waiting
-shadows.
-
-"That's the house." These were the first words
-that broke the stillness, and they came from Madeline's
-lips—"that's where she lives," pointing to a
-distant light.
-
-"Who?" and Harvey turned his eyes upon her.
-
-"The child I'm going to see—I told you."
-
-Silence still; and still they walked on together.
-Once she stumbled over an uneven plank. His hand
-went out swiftly to her arm, and as he touched it his
-whole frame swayed towards her. In an instant his
-hand was withdrawn; but not before a faint outbreak
-flowed from her lips. He looked down at her
-through the darkness—her face was deadly white.
-
-"I don't believe I'll go," she said weakly; "I'll go
-to-morrow."
-
-He pointed into the darkness. "I want to speak
-with you," he said, striding on.
-
-A little murmur surged to her lips. She checked
-it. "Will you wait for me—till I come out,
-Harvey?" the last word coming slow.
-
-"I can't."
-
-"What?" she said, her tone firmer, her pace abating.
-
-"I cannot wait," he said; "you can't go in till—after."
-
-She cast a swift glance upwards—but his eyes were
-forward bent. He pressed swiftly on. She walked
-beside him.
-
-Suddenly he paused, then stood still. He listened
-intently; no sound but the desultory barking of a
-distant watch-dog. He looked about—and the
-voiceless night seemed to contain no other but those
-twain. He could see the blinking light in the
-window, the one Madeline had pointed to; it made the
-solitude deeper, like a far-off gleam at sea.
-
-"Let us go in here and sit down," he said, pointing
-towards a little clearance under the shadow of two
-spreading oaks that towered above an intervening
-thicket.
-
-They stepped down from the rickety sidewalk.
-And they crossed the dusty road, neither speaking;
-and the dew glistened on their feet as they went on
-into the thickening grass—and Madeline could hear
-her poor heart beating, but she uttered never a
-word.
-
-It is the glory of a strong woman that she
-sometimes may be weak; nay, that she must be, by very
-token of her strength. For her strength hath its
-home in love and in her capacity to love—there is
-her crown and there the well-spring of her beauty
-and her charm. Yet this knows its highest strength
-in weakness; and its victory is in surrender. And
-the greatest moment in the life of the noblest woman
-is when convention and propriety and custom—and
-the tyranny of the social code—yea, when even her
-own native pride, her womanly reticence, her insistence
-on all that a woman may demand, are defiantly
-renounced; when these all lie in ruins at her feet,
-scorned and forgotten by reason of the torrent of her
-love; when beauty's tresses lie dishevelled, and its
-robes of dignity are stained with tears, then is
-woman's wild eternal heart at its very noblest in all
-the abandon of the passion that sets it free from
-every tie save one.
-
-Wherefore Madeline—she of the beauteous face
-and of the snow-white heart—went on with Harvey
-where he led. Down from the pavement she stepped,
-down into the earthly road, reckless of the dainty
-fabric that the dust leaped to stain; and she walked
-on into the glistening grass, and her eyes saw the
-waiting oak and the vast sky behind. And the night
-was dark, and even the distant blinking light was
-hidden; and she could hear the soft language of the
-mother bird that kept her love-taught vigil, and the
-whippoorwill's cry came in mellow waves across the
-rippling woods—and the great tender arms of the
-holy night were about them all.
-
-"Let us sit here," and Harvey motioned towards a
-giant log that lay beneath the oaks. "And I'll tell
-you, Madeline."
-
-She raised one white hand to her throat as she
-took her place; even then he noticed the delicate
-tapering fingers, so well fitted for the work to which
-her father had referred. Something seemed to be
-choking her, so long were the white fingers held to
-the soft flesh above. The other hand went out absently,
-uplifted, and she held tight to the soft-swinging
-branch of the ancient oak, for the leaves bended
-about them where they sat.
-
-"Very well, Harvey," she said. "Isn't it about
-father—didn't you see him this evening?" Commonplace
-questions enough they were; and her
-heart had clutched wildly at them as her hand had
-seized the bough above her. But commonplace the
-words were not—a surge of fire made them glow and
-gleam, to him at least, her troubled soul sweeping
-through them like a flood. For her voice was shaking
-as she asked the simple questions; and her arm was
-still outstretched as she clung to the yielding
-bough—and the white fingers still pressed the quivering
-throat.
-
-"No, it isn't about that," he said, his voice as low
-as the voices of the night. She never moved. But
-he heard, actually heard, her lips as they slowly
-parted—and her breath came as if she were resting
-from a race.
-
-"It's about us—oh, Madeline, it's about us," he
-began, and his words came swift, as if they were
-driven out by force. "You know, you know, Madeline,
-all that's in my heart—all that's been there
-for years. Ever since I worked for your father—ever
-since we went to school—ever since that night beside
-my baby sister's grave—and since you came to see
-mother when she got blind—and since I went to college—and
-always, always, Madeline, through all the years.
-You know, Madeline, you know." Then his words
-poured out in a passionate stream, swirling like waves
-about her, and he told her what they both had known
-long, what neither had ever heard before. The
-maiden's eyes shone dim; and one hand clutched
-tighter at the crushed and broken twigs; the other
-slipped from the quivering throat, pressed now to the
-paining bosom. And the moist lips were parted
-still, but the speech that flowed between was silent
-as her listening soul.
-
-"And I've told you the worst, Madeline," he
-vowed at length. "I was determined to tell you the
-worst, before I go away, before I go away to take up
-the struggle against my sin—alone. And to win—to
-conquer," he added low. "So I'm not worthy,
-Madeline—and the future's uncertain—and I know
-it and you know it. And nobody but God can ever
-tell what it has meant to me to say all I've said
-to-night; and it's all because I love you so...
-Oh, Madeline," and the strong voice struggled in
-vain to keep on its way; too late, it broke and
-trembled, the pain and passion bursting through it
-as he bowed his head and hid his face. "So I'm
-going away," he murmured low, "I'm going away."
-
-The sighing wind was hushed and the mother bird
-was silent and the whippoorwill was dumb.
-
-"Harvey, don't."
-
-It was such a gentle note, barely audible, like the
-first faint cry of some wood-born nestling when it
-sees the light. But it filled and flooded all his soul.
-He raised his head, so slowly, from his hands; and
-slowly he turned his face till his eyes rested full upon
-her. The moon had risen and he could see her
-beauty. Both hands were lying now in the white
-folds of her dress, and between them were the
-crushed and broken leaves, their fragrance outstealing
-from their wounds. The branch she had released
-was still swaying to and fro. But Madeline saw it
-not; nor aught else beside. The veiled and glistening
-eyes were looking far beyond; he could not tell
-whether they were fixed on the darkling thicket or
-on the crescent moon. But while his gaze stole
-upward to her face a night-bird in the thicket piped
-softly to its mate—and he saw her eyes search the
-frowning shade. Then they were still. But he
-could see the radiance on cheek and brow, and he
-felt the life-stream that her eyes outpoured, aglow
-with the emotion of her soul. Her bosom rose and
-fell, nor did she seem to know—again and yet again
-the candour of her love spoke thus. And while he
-looked she slowly turned her head. He noted, even
-then, and in the gathering light, the wealth of lovely
-hair, the fair purity of her forehead, the mystic lure
-of her quivering lips, the throb that beat swiftly in
-her throat, soft and white like the lily's bloom—but
-they all were lost in the glory of her wondrous eyes.
-These were transfigured; surrender, conquest, yearning,
-pity, pride, the joy of possession and the rapture
-of captivity—all that unite to make that mysterious
-tide called passion, looked their meaning from her face.
-
-Her breath, fresh from the parted lips, floated
-outward till it touched his face—and to him
-spreading oak and whispering grove and shadowy thicket
-and crescent moon had ceased to be. He saw her
-eyes alone, his soul swimming towards them through
-the torrent; his finger-tips touched her shoulders
-first—and she was there—and the soft form yielded,
-and the glory slowly faded as the eyelids fell, and
-the fragrance of her breath made life a holy thing
-forever as he drew her into the strong shelter of his love.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`"INTO HIS HOUSE OF WINE"`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXXV
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- "*INTO HIS HOUSE OF WINE*"
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-They came up the little hill together. And
-many eyes were turned on them in wonder
-as they went up the aisle, David still leaning
-on the strong man beside him. It was Robert
-McCaig who took the token from Mr. Borland's
-hand, and his own told its welcome by its lingering
-clasp.
-
-They were almost at David's pew, Madeline and
-her mother already seated there, when Harvey stood
-still and whispered. "Let us go to my mother's
-seat," he said.
-
-David's assent was quick and cordial. He knew
-the sacrament of love; and the look with which
-Madeline and her mother followed them showed that
-they recognized the higher claim.
-
-Very beautiful was the service of that holy hour.
-The opening psalm breathed the spirit of penitence
-and trust. When Dr. Fletcher rose to pray, his
-face was illumined with such joy as there is in the
-presence of the angels when a new star swims into
-the firmament of heaven. And his prayer gave
-thanks for the cloud of witnesses that compassed
-them about, and for those who had gone out from
-them along the upward path of pain.
-
-Wonderful stillness wrapped the worshippers about
-as the elders went slowly down the aisle with the
-symbols of redeeming love. It was not his
-accustomed place, but Geordie Nickle bore the bread
-and wine to where David and Harvey sat. His eyes
-shone with a great light as he placed the emblems
-first in David's shaking hand; and the moist eyes
-were upturned to God; and his lips moved while
-he stood before them in the grand dignity of his
-priestly office. The compassion glowing on his face
-was worthy of the Cross.
-
-David and Harvey bowed their heads together,
-the old man and the young. The one was touched
-with the whitening frost of years, the other with the
-dew of youth. But their lips were moist with the
-same holy wine and their hearts were kindred in
-their trembling hope. Before them both arose the
-vision of a Saviour's face; but the old man's thought
-was of eternal rest, and the other's was of the
-battling years beyond.
-
-Harvey's mind flew quickly over all the bygone
-days. Love and loneliness, conflict and respite, hope
-and despair, victory and overthrow passed before
-him—and all seemed now to have conspired towards
-this holy hour. He felt that the way had been
-chosen for him amid life's perplexing paths; that an
-unseen Hand had been at the helm; that the prayer
-and purpose of another's life had led him back to
-the path from which he had departed, fulfilling the
-design of an All-wise Sovereign Will.
-
-David gave a little start of surprise when
-Dr. Fletcher announced the closing hymn.
-
-"He done that for me," he whispered to Harvey;
-"he knows it's mine."
-
-They rose to sing the noble song. The great
-words rolled slowly out from many reverent lips:
-
- | "The sands of time are sinking."
- |
-
-It was when they came to the soul's great boast
-
- | "With mercy and with judgment
- | My web of time He wove,"
-
-that Harvey turned his eyes towards David; and his
-heart melted as he saw the tears rolling down the
-withered cheeks. David's head was bowed, for it
-hurt him sore that men should see. But there had
-come about him such a tide of feeling—all his
-chequered life rising up before him—and such a
-sense of the abundant grace that had made the
-shadows beautiful with light, that his soul dissolved
-in gratitude to the Hand that guided and the Heart
-that planned through all the labyrinth of years.
-
-Other lips were still, and Harvey's among them,
-when they reached the closing lines:
-
- | "Amid the shades of evening
- | While sinks life's lingering sand
- | I hail the glory dawning
- | In Immanuel's land."
- |
-
-But those who were beside him marvelled at the
-strong rich tones with which David sounded the
-exultant note. His voice was no more the voice
-of age; and the scars of battle had vanished from his
-face. Strong and victorious came the swelling
-strain, and his uplifted eyes had the glow of
-unconquerable youth. He had caught the lights of
-Home.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`A MISTRESS OF FINANCE`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXXVI
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *A MISTRESS OF FINANCE*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"Some men are born lucky—and some get
-lucky—and some have the confoundedst
-kind of good luck thrust upon them," affirmed
-Mr. Crothers, nodding towards a letter in
-Harvey's hand.
-
-"I'm just going to read this over once more; it
-really seems too good to be true," was Harvey's
-rather irrelevant reply, his eyes fastened again upon
-the letter.
-
-"You're dead right. If any one had told me, that
-night three months ago—you remember our conversation
-then—that you'd be given a position like that
-so early in your career, I'd have laughed at them.
-I don't think I ever knew a man get as quick
-promotion in the newspaper business as you've had,
-Simmons. I really don't. But then you've got the
-education—and the material above the eyes—and
-that's the whole outfit. Well, I can't do any more
-than congratulate you, old man," and the sincerity
-of Mr. Crothers' words was evident as Harvey looked
-across the table into the deep-set eyes.
-
-"You've had more to do with it than anybody
-else, I'm sure," Harvey returned; "and I'll do all I
-can to make good. I'll expect you to——"
-
-"I'll tell you something I've been thinking of for
-quite a while," the other broke in, lowering his voice
-and leaning far over the table. "If we could only
-get a hold of the business—the paper, I mean—the
-whole box and dice! The thing's going to change
-hands, as you know; everybody has known that, since
-the president got the collectorship of customs—and
-it would be worth more to us than to anybody else.
-We could run it to the Queen's taste—the whole
-shooting-match. But I suppose there's no use
-talking—can't make bricks without straw. Of course,
-I've saved a little chicken-feed—not enough, though—there,
-that's my total," as he pencilled some figures
-on a blotting-pad and passed it over; "and if you
-could duplicate it—or a little better—we'd have the
-thing in our mitt. But I suppose there's no use
-thinking about it?" looking rather eagerly at Harvey,
-nevertheless.
-
-"Out of the question," answered Harvey decisively,
-leaning back in his chair; "you can't get blood
-from a turnip, or, as Geordie Nickle, a Glenallen friend
-of mine, would say, you can't take the breeks off a
-Hielan'man. I haven't any money, that's the English
-of it. Of course," a tinge of pleasure in the tone,
-"I'll have a pretty good salary now—but what's that
-for a plunge like this?" as he pushed the blotting-pad
-back across the table.
-
-"About as good as a dozen of eggs for an army,"
-Mr. Crothers agreed disconsolately. "Oh, well, we'll
-just have to make out the best we can—but I'm
-mighty glad of your good luck, old man, just the same."
-
-Both men turned to their work. Harvey's first
-move was to ring for a stenographer. But he
-changed his mind. "I won't need you for a few
-minutes," he said; "I'll write this one myself."
-
-The letter closed as follows: "... So it's
-come at last, sister—and your days of drudgery are
-past. They will always be a sacred memory to me,
-for I wonder if any man ever came to his own
-through as noble sacrifice as has filled all your life
-for me, yours and mother's. Now, Jessie, be sure
-and do as I've told you. Sell your business—lock,
-stock, and barrel—or give it away; make Miss Adair
-a present of it, or rent it to her, or anything you like.
-Only one thing remember—you'll rest now, and all
-my good fortune will be spoiled unless you share it
-with me.
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line
-
- Your ever loving
- "HARVEY."
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-Even Grey started with surprise when Harvey
-arrived home that night an hour earlier than usual.
-And Miss Farringall's face brightened suddenly as
-Harvey's knock at the door of her sitting-room was
-followed by the appearance of a very radiant face.
-He had a letter in his hand.
-
-"I want to speak first," she said impulsively,
-divining his purpose.
-
-"Yes, Miss Farringall," he said enquiringly.
-
-"It's something I've wanted to ask you for a long
-time—and I'm going to do it now," she added very
-softly, rising and moving to the window; "did your
-mother ever—did she ever speak to you about your
-father, Harvey?"
-
-Harvey's answer was slow. "Yes," he said at length.
-
-"Did you know he's living?" she asked after a
-long pause.
-
-"Yes," and Harvey's voice was little more than
-audible. "My mother told me that when she was
-dying. Why?" he asked resolutely, moving to
-where she stood.
-
-"I only wished to know, dear," and her tone
-breathed gentleness as she turned and fixed her
-pensive eyes on his. "I knew he was living, and——"
-
-"Where—do you know where?" he broke out,
-almost with a cry. "My mother didn't know, and——"
-
-"No, I don't know where," she interrupted, her eyes
-now looking far without; "but I know he's living yet.
-We'll both know more some day—what's in that letter,
-Harvey?" the voice betokening that the subject
-was dismissed, at least for the present.
-
-"It's something you'll be glad to read," he answered
-absently as he handed it to her.
-
-Deep silence reigned a while.
-
-"I knew it, Harvey," she said when she had
-finished. "I expected this—I was waiting for you to
-come home. I wanted to see you very much. Can
-you think what for?"
-
-"I don't know," Harvey answered abstractedly,
-musing still.
-
-"Barlow," she called.
-
-"Yes, mum," a sepulchral voice answered from the
-hall, followed a moment later by the apparition of the
-never distant servant.
-
-"You know the vault, Barlow?"
-
-"Yes, mum," replied its guardian of years.
-
-"And the box in the lower left-hand corner?"
-
-"Yes, mum."
-
-"And the paper we deposited there yesterday?"
-
-"Yes, mum."
-
-"That Dr. Wallis helped me to draw?"
-
-"Yes, mum."
-
-"Then bring it to me at once."
-
-"Yes, mum," and Barlow turned in his tracks as
-he had done for a quarter of a century.
-
-He was back in a moment. "You can go now,
-Barlow—and shut the door. Take Grey, and don't
-stand outside. Go and count the spoons."
-
-"Yes, mum," and the immobile Barlow departed
-to make the oft-repeated inventory.
-
-"I expected this to come, Harvey," she began as
-soon as they were alone. "I know the president of
-the *Argus*—or of the company, or whatever you call
-it. I'm not such a hermit as some people think.
-But I've been wishing for something better for you,
-Harvey—can you guess what it is?" her words
-ending in a nervous little cough.
-
-Harvey's face showed how innocent he was of any
-such knowledge.
-
-"Well, it keeps running in my mind that you
-ought to own that paper."
-
-Harvey gave a little laugh. "That's what
-Mr. Crothers was saying," he began confusedly; "he
-thinks we could do wonders if we had it between us—but
-of course it's out of the question. It would
-cost—oh, I don't know how much."
-
-"I know all about that," and Miss Farringall's
-cheek had a strangely heightened colour. "I've
-looked into all that," she added in a low tone; "and
-do you think you could? Would Mr. Crothers really
-make a good partner?"
-
-Harvey stared. "He's a jewel, Miss Farringall,
-every way—but why do——"
-
-"Excuse me," Miss Farringall interrupted with
-authority. "Let me proceed. I want to make an
-investment. I want to buy a business that belongs
-to you and Jessie. Sign that paper, please," as she
-handed him the document Barlow had brought.
-
-Amazement took possession of Harvey as he read.
-
-"Close your lips, Harvey—when you're excited,
-breathe deep; it's a great sedative," and Miss
-Farringall smiled as she watched his face.
-
-Harvey laid the paper down with a gasp. "But,
-Miss Farringall," he began excitedly, breathing as
-best he could, "the proposition is preposterous—a
-sum of money such as this for a paltry outfit like
-that little store in Glenallen! The whole thing isn't
-worth——"
-
-"Be careful, Harvey Simmons, be careful, now,"
-Miss Farringall broke in sternly. "You haven't
-read the agreement. Maybe the price does look
-big—but did you see all I'm to get in return?"
-
-Harvey shook the document excitedly. "You
-ask the business—the stock, and the good-will—and
-neither the one nor the other's worth one tithe
-of——"
-
-"Wait a minute," broke in the prospective
-purchaser; "I ask more than that. The vendor goes
-with the sale," she announced, rising to her feet.
-"It's that way in the paper—Jessie goes with it; I
-buy her too. I can do what I like with the
-business—and Jessie comes to me. Yes," she cried, her
-voice shaking in its eagerness, "that's what I want
-the most—and Jessie's willing. I've found that out
-top—and she's to be mine, to keep and care for.
-And she's to be shipped here, right side up with care,
-and she's to give me value for my money every time
-I see her sweet face and hear her merry laugh. I've
-spent a lot repairing this old house—but that's the
-kind of repair it's been needing for long years, and
-it's going to get it now. When you get the purchase
-money you can invest it as you like; it'll be your
-own—only sign, Harvey, sign now. I've got the
-price all ready," her voice ringing with merry music
-as she brandished a bulky envelope before his eyes.
-
-Harvey gazed long into the triumphant face. Then
-he moved slowly up to her, holding out his arms,
-and she put her own about his neck with hurrying,
-passionate eagerness and held him tight. When,
-released, he looked again into the flushed and
-quivering face, the swimming eyes seemed not to see his
-own, fixed in yearning on the silent desk that held
-the secret of the years.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`THE CONQUEROR'S HOME-GOING`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXXVII
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *THE CONQUEROR'S HOME-GOING*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-"You're wanted on the long-distance line,
-Mr. Simmons; Glenallen wants to speak
-with you," was the message that interrupted
-Harvey and Mr. Crothers in the midst of a
-very delightful conference; the future of the *Morning
-Argus* was the subject of discussion.
-
-"Somebody wanting to congratulate you," ventured
-Mr. Crothers; "tell them the new firm's flourishing
-so far," a smile of great satisfaction on his
-face. The fulfillment of the ambition of half a
-life-time had filled Mr. Crothers' cup to overflowing.
-
-Five minutes later Harvey had returned, the
-gladness vanished from his eyes.
-
-"What's the matter, Simmons?—nothing gone
-wrong, I hope."
-
-"I've got to leave within ten minutes," Harvey
-answered, stooping to arrange some scattered papers
-on his desk. "I'll just have time to catch the
-Glenallen train. The dearest friend I have in the world
-is dying, they tell me—and he wants me."
-
-"Who?" asked Mr. Crothers, rising from his seat.
-
-"Mr. Borland—David Borland. You've often
-heard me speak of him."
-
-Mr. Crothers' countenance fell. "I should think I
-have; I almost feel as if I knew him, you've given
-me so much of his philosophy. I always hoped I
-might meet him—what's like the trouble?"
-
-"Heart," said Harvey, unable to say more.
-
-"That was where his homely philosophy came
-from, I should say," ventured Mr. Crothers; "it's the
-best brand too."
-
-Harvey nodded. A few minutes later he was gone.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-The evening sun was prodigal of its beauty. And
-once, when Harvey lifted up his eyes to look, he
-could see the flashing windows of David's old-time
-residence, its stately outlines showing clear against
-the sombre trees behind. But the little house on
-which his eyes were fastened now—where a great
-soul was preparing for its flight—seemed far the
-grander of the two. For it was clothed with the
-majesty of things invisible and the outlook from its
-humbler windows was to the Eternal.
-
-He entered without knocking; and Mrs. Borland
-was the first to meet him.
-
-"He's sinking fast," she said, greeting Harvey
-with a warmth he had not known before. "He can
-still speak with us, though—and he's been asking for
-you."
-
-"Who's with him?" asked Harvey.
-
-"Just Madeline. We sent for Dr. Fletcher—but
-he's away, attending some meeting of ministers.
-Mr. Nickle's coming, though—he'll soon be here now."
-
-Harvey stood a minute at the door before he
-entered David's room. Madeline looked up and
-smiled; but her father's eyes were turned away, fixed
-on the distant hills. The gaze of the younger man
-rested long and lovingly on the pallid face upon the
-pillow. Never had David looked so grand before.
-The thin, responsive lips; the care-worn face,
-compassion and sympathy in every line; the crown of
-silvery hair, so whitened since Harvey saw it last;
-the large, far-seeing eyes, homes of the faith and hope
-that had upborne his life and made it beautiful,
-out-gazing now beyond the things of time, calm with the
-last long peace—all these gave to the face that
-spiritual beauty which is the handiwork of God.
-
-Harvey drew closer to the bed. David slowly
-turned his head; his eyes met Harvey's, and he held
-out his hand.
-
-"I knew you'd come," he said gently; we're all
-together now—all but Geordie."
-
-Harvey's answer was a warmer pressure of the
-wasted hand.
-
-"The sands is runnin' fast," David said with a faint
-smile—"the battle'll soon be done. An' I'm pretty
-tired, Harvey."
-
-Harvey was still standing by the bed, bowed, still
-holding David's hand. And the dying man could
-see the tears that were making their way down the
-quivering cheeks.
-
-"Don't, Harvey," he implored; "this ain't no time
-for that. Madeline, read that bit again."
-
-The girl lifted the Bible from the bed. "She
-knows the place I want—it's John the fourteenth,"
-David said, his face turned to Harvey's. "We love
-all the places—they're all beautiful. There's lovely
-shade in the Psalms when the hot sun's beatin' down—an'
-it's all good; but John the fourteenth's like a
-deep, clear spring, an' that's where we stay the
-most—weary travellers loves a spring," and the dying man
-turned his eyes eagerly on the book Madeline had
-opened.
-
-"Let not your heart be troubled.... In My
-Father's house are many mansions; if it were not so
-I would have told you." Thus flowed the stream of
-love; and David closed his eyes, drinking deep indeed
-of the living tide.
-
-"Ain't that beautiful?" he said, his voice thrilled
-with passionate gladness. "I like that about the
-mansions the best, I think. Everybody loves a
-mansion. I got turned out o' one—the one our Madeline
-was born in; but this'll be a far better one, an' me an'
-Madeline an' mother'll live there always, an' nobody
-can't ever turn us out. It's our Father's," he added
-reverently.
-
-Mrs. Borland was bending over him. "Don't
-talk, David," she pleaded; "it's too much for your
-strength."
-
-He gazed up at her. "I want to give a—a
-testimony—afore I go," he said falteringly. "I jest want
-to own up that I always loved God—lots o' folks
-didn't think so—an' He always loved me, an' picked
-the path for me. An' He made everythin' to happen
-as it did; an' I believe I'm thankfuller for the things
-I didn't want to happen than for the ones I did—He
-seen the best, 'cause He was higher up. Madeline,
-sing for me," he appealed with failing breath; "sing a
-children's hymn—that one about the river," his eyes
-gently closing as he lay back upon the pillow.
-
-"He always loved that one," his wife whispered
-brokenly to Harvey. "It's so simple. We can't,
-David," as she bended over him, "we can't sing now."
-
-"I can, mother," and Madeline's voice was firm.
-The others' eyes were hidden, but Madeline's were
-fixed steadfastly on her father's as the crystal notes
-came low and sweet:
-
- | "Soon we'll reach the silvery river
- | Soon our pilgrimage shall cease;
- | Soon our happy hearts shall quiver
- | With the melody of peace,"
-
-and the dying lips broke in once or twice in a
-plaintive effort to swell the triumph strain.
-
-The singing ceased. But David's eyes still rested
-on his daughter. Then they were turned on Harvey,
-as he stood beside her; they seemed, indeed, to rest
-on both at once. And their meaning could be easily
-read. Suddenly he motioned them down beside him;
-the girl was trembling, her pale lips quivering slightly,
-for she had interpreted her father's look.
-
-David feebly raised his hands till one touched each
-bended head. "You'll sing that hymn—that river
-hymn—often, together—won't you; in your—own
-home," drawing the bowed heads closer down—"in
-your happy home?" he faltered.
-
-For a moment neither moved nor spoke. Then,
-in strong and passionate silence, Harvey slowly lifted
-his face till his eyes spoke their great vow to the
-dying man; and, unashamed, he placed his arm
-gently, resolutely, about the maiden's bended form,
-holding her close with a fondness that kindled all
-his face with light. But Madeline's was hidden, her
-head still bended low.
-
-David's face was wonderful in its glow of love and
-gladness. Suddenly his gaze went out beyond the
-plighted pair.
-
-"Geordie!" he said, the name breathed out in
-tenderness as his misty eyes saw the well-loved form
-coming slowly through the door.
-
-The aged man came over, leaning heavily on his
-staff, his face suffused with a gentleness that flowed
-from his very heart. He bended low above his
-dying friend, dumbly groping for his hand. He still
-leaned heavily on his staff, for his outgoing pilgrimage,
-too, was close at hand. And the two men looked
-long without a word; the memories of happy years
-passed from soul to soul; in silence their eyes still
-rested on each other, but the troth of many years
-was plighted once again as they stood at the parting
-of the ways. And both knew the promise was to all
-eternity.
-
-Slowly David drew the strong Scottish face down
-beside his own. Then he said something in a tone
-so low that no other ear could hear; Geordie's answer
-was in a trembling whisper—but both spoke a
-language not of time.
-
-"Lift me up, Geordie—Harvey, lift me up,"
-David's feeble voice broke out a moment later. "I
-want to look once more," his eyes turning to the
-window. The sun had set, and the gilded west was
-bathed in glory as they tenderly lifted the wasted
-form, the weary head resting on the bosom of his
-child.
-
-David's eyes, wondrously lightened now, rested
-long on the crimson pathway. "It's a lovely road
-to go!" he murmured, gazing at the lane of light.
-"I'm glad I'm not goin' in the dark—things looks so
-strange in the dark. An' I'm glad..."
-
-It was Geordie Nickle who bended low, as though
-he were love's best interpreter, passionately listening
-for the ebbing words. The receding tide flowed back
-in a moment, and David's voice came clearer: "An'
-I'm glad it's the evenin'—things looks clearest in the
-evenin' or the mornin'—it's the long afternoon that's
-dark."
-
-Geordie was almost on his knees beside him, the
-strong Scottish face wrung with its depth of feeling.
-"Oh, David," he cried with the eagerness of a child,
-"ye'll sune be hame. An' we're all comin'—we'll
-no' be lang. An' oor Faither's hoose has mony
-mansions—if it were na' so..." but the
-choking voice refused.
-
-"He'd have—let us know," the dying man added
-gently, completing the mighty promise. "It's
-gettin' dark," he whispered suddenly, looking up into
-Madeline's eyes; "it's time for Him to come—I don't
-know the way."
-
-In a moment his whole expression had undergone
-a change, such a change as comes to darkening
-hill-tops when the morning sun loves them into life.
-Light covered his face as with a flood. The weary
-eyes opened wide, the eager hands outstretched.
-"It's all bright now," he faltered—"an' He's
-comin'—He's comin', like He said. I knew—He'd—come."
-
-They were bending low about him; his weeping
-wife breathed a long farewell. But Madeline saw the
-last movement of the dying lips, and the yearning
-eyes seemed to bid her listen. Her face was veiled
-with reverent love as she stooped to catch the parting
-breath; it came, and her face became transfigured
-as by the light of God.
-
-"I'm jest home," she heard him murmur; "I'm
-jest home."
-
-Gently they let the dear form sink back to its long,
-long rest. Geordie softly closed the eyes, never to
-give their light again. Then the aged man, his frame
-shaken with the sobs he could not repress, bent down
-and kissed the furrowed brow.
-
-"His battle's past," he said, the words struggling
-out like driftwood through the surge, "an' he was a
-guid soldier."
-
-And the conqueror lay in noble stillness, the glory
-of the departed day abiding on his face.
-
-
-
-
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. _`THE FLEEING SHADOWS`:
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- \XXXVIII
-
-
-.. class:: center medium bold
-
- *THE FLEEING SHADOWS*
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-It was long after midnight, and Harvey's night's
-work was almost done. He was the last one
-left in the office, and, as far as his duties were
-concerned, everything was almost ready for the
-waiting press. He had just snapped his watch with an
-exclamation of surprise at the lateness of the hour
-as he hurriedly turned to conclude his writing, when
-he fancied he heard a noise on the step outside his
-office door.
-
-He thought nothing of it; and the pen flowed
-faster than before. But only a couple of minutes
-more had passed when a similar sound fell upon his
-ear. And it disturbed him strangely. Perhaps he
-was nervous, for the strain of the night's work had
-been severe enough—and he was alone. The sound,
-to his ears at least, had something unusual and
-ominous about it—yet he knew not why.
-
-He turned again to complete his work, his glance
-searching the room a moment before he did so. But
-the disturbance had come from without—the room
-was just as his associates had left it. He tried to
-concentrate his attention; yet a strange feeling
-possessed him—he felt in a vague, restless way, as
-though he were being watched. His office at the
-very top of the building was almost lonely in its
-separation; from the half-open windows the sleeping
-city might be seen, wrapped in the trailing garments
-of the dark. His mind seemed strangely sensitive,
-a-quiver almost, as if some influence were borne
-in upon him from the haunted chambers of the night.
-
-Suddenly, impelled by some mysterious impulse,
-he flung his pen upon the table and turned his gaze
-over his shoulder with a swift motion, fixing his eyes
-on the large pane of glass that formed the upper
-portion of the door.
-
-Involuntarily he uttered a startled cry—for he
-could see, two or three inches from the pane, a
-human face. And the eyes were wide, and fastened
-upon him with almost fierce intensity. The bearded
-face was pallid and haggard—but the eyes were the
-outstanding features, gleaming with a nameless
-significance that spoke of a soul stirred with passion.
-They never flinched—even as Harvey sprang from
-his chair they did not turn away. Nothing could be
-seen but the face—and the impact of the unmoving
-eyes was terrific.
-
-Harvey stood a moment, trembling. The face
-never moved. Then he strode swiftly to the door
-and flung it wide.
-
-"What's the meaning of this, sir?" he demanded
-sternly. "What's your business here?"
-
-The man's eyes moved only enough to wander
-slowly about his face. He waited till Harvey's lips
-were framing other words, his hand now on the door
-as if to slam it shut. Then he walked slowly in, his
-face still turned upon the other's. He shut the door
-himself.
-
-"I want you to look at something," said the
-man, and the voice was deep and passionate.
-
-He was clad in the meanest garments; poor
-repairs were on them here and there. The signs of
-poverty were everywhere about him, and his whole
-appearance was that of one who had suffered much
-amid the billows of misfortune. He seemed to be
-struggling hard to resummon something he had lost—the
-quivering lips and the despairing eyes told that
-he had been beaten in the fight, yet not without
-stern resistance, nor yet left without flickerings of
-the old-time fire. His spirit seemed broken, yet not
-utterly destroyed.
-
-"What are you doing here? What's your
-business?" Harvey demanded; the man was
-fumbling in the pocket of his coat.
-
-"I'm a printer," he answered, "and one of your
-foremen gave me work to-day. I only began
-to-night—and I came upstairs to see you. *I knew
-you were here.*"
-
-Something in the way he uttered these last words
-clutched at Harvey's heart. "I knew you were
-here," the man repeated, nodding his head slowly,
-his eyes again on Harvey. And they seemed to
-melt with a strange wild longing, following him with
-a kind of defiant wistfulness. Somehow, like a
-faint and fleeting dream, Jessie's face—or an
-expression Harvey had often seen upon it—passed like a
-wraith between him and the bearded man.
-
-"Who are you?" he said huskily.
-
-The man's eyes rested a moment on the floor—and
-he was trembling where he stood. Slowly he
-raised them till they rested on Harvey's pallid face.
-Then they looked long and silently at each other,
-the dread and voiceless dialogue waging—that
-awesome interchange of soul with soul that makes men
-tremble, when eyes speak to answering eyes as
-lightning calls from peak to peak.
-
-"I'm your father," the low voice said at last, the
-deep eyes leaping towards him in a strange mastery
-of strength and passion.
-
-Harvey gave a cry and started back. The man
-followed him, straightening as he came, the
-hungering face out-held a little, pursuing still. The
-younger man retreated farther, gasping; and his
-eyes, like something suddenly released, raced about
-the unkempt form, surveying boots and clothes and
-beard and brow in an abandonment of candour.
-
-"No, no," he murmured as he kept creeping back,
-the man following still; "no, no, it cannot be."
-
-The stranger's hand was outstretched now.
-Something whitish was in it—and something black.
-"Look," he said, his lips parting in a weird, unearthly
-smile, "look, and deny it if you can; it's a
-photograph—and a letter."
-
-Harvey stood still; then took them from the
-outstretched hand. The gas jet was just above. He
-read the letter first—it was his mother's handiwork.
-And the letter breathed of love, and hope, and of
-impatient joy at their approaching wedding-day.
-
-Then he held the sharp-edged tin-type up before
-him. And then he knew. For his eye fell first on
-his mother's face, sweet with the new-born joy of
-motherhood. And a laughing babe was in her
-arms—and the man beside her, one hand resting on her
-shoulder, was the man whose panting breath he
-heard, whose burning eyes were fixed upon him now.
-
-"That's you," the man said hoarsely; "and that's
-your mother—baby wasn't born. And I hadn't ever
-drunk a drop then," he added, a bleating cry
-mingling with the words.
-
-Harvey stood long, looking down. Once the
-stranger put out his hand—but he drew back with
-the picture, gazing still. The tide of battle rose and
-fell within him. Then his hand shook like an aspen,
-his whole frame trembled, his sight grew blurred and
-dim. Yet through the gust of tears he looked again
-upon the haggard face—and again, more clearly than
-before, something of Jessie's swam before him. A
-moment later, and his soul, surging like the ocean in
-a storm, went out in primal passion to the quivering
-man; swiftly, overmasteringly, as if forevermore, he
-took him in his arms.
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center white-space-pre-line
-
- \*      \*      \*      \*      \*      \*
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-
-
-"If you'll help me, my son—if you'll help me, I'll
-try again." The flickering gas jet still gave its light
-above them and the silent stars still watched the
-sleeping city. And the son still held his father in
-the clasp of a long-slumbering, new-awakened love.
-
-"We'll fight it out together—and we'll win," the
-lips of youth replied. "I know all about it,
-father—and I'll help all I can. I promised mother—I
-promised to bring you, father. Mother's waiting; and I
-said we'd come together—and Jessie, too."
-
-"Will Jessie love me?" the broken voice enquired,
-the tone plaintive with mingled love and fear.
-
-"She's always loved you, father," and the son's
-voice was thrilling with compassion. "We're both
-your children," and it was pitiful to see the strong
-lips struggling; "we're your children—and we
-promised mother."
-
-Thus the gentle stream flowed on. And as they
-talked a new peace flowed into the haunted eyes;
-and the blessed tidings of those he loved—of her
-whose sweet face was even now upon its pillow, and
-of the one who dwelt with God—came with balm and
-healing to his soul.
-
-"I'll try, Harvey," he said again—"and I'll trust
-your mother's God."
-
-As Harvey guided him out into the night the
-quiet stars above him seemed to be the very sentinels
-of heaven. And he marvelled that this wondrous
-charge had come to him at last—over all the waste
-of years; and that the secret plan of the Unseen, its
-deep design unchanging, had entrusted to his hand
-the fulfillment of his mother's prayers.
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-It was night again; but beautiful. And if any of
-the Glenallen slumberers, a moment waking, heard
-upon the pavement the tread of two silent men,
-they knew not how holy was the mission that
-impelled these pilgrims of the night. They paused but
-once, these two; before a weather-beaten little house,
-empty now, its grimy shop-window staring out into
-the dark. But the older man seemed as if he could
-not look enough; like cathedral to reverent saint this
-squalid building was to him. Once the younger man
-pointed to an upper window—no light gleamed from
-it now—but the other's eyes, even when they had
-left it far behind, turned to caress it with lingering
-tenderness.
-
-They passed together through the gate that
-guarded the little city of the dead. The moon was
-hidden; and no word passed between them as they
-made their way to the holy of holies where lay their
-precious dead. But Harvey's hand went out to his
-father's; and thus they went on together, hand in
-hand through the darkness, as children go beneath
-life's morning sun.
-
-They stopped beside two grassy graves. Nearest
-to them, at their dewy feet, lay the larger mound;
-the baby's nestled close beside it. The older man's
-head, uncovered, was bowed in reverence; even in
-the dark Harvey could see the stamp of eternity
-upon his face. The son's love, unspeaking, went out
-in silent passion to his father; so near he seemed, so
-dear, so much his own in that holy hour. Yet the
-broken heart beside him carried a load of anguish of
-which the son knew nothing; it was torn by a tragedy
-and rended by a memory no other heart could share—and
-the weary eyes looked covetously at the quiet
-resting-place beside the waiting dead.
-
-His tears fell—on the baby's grave. He leaned
-over, as if he saw—first above the one, turning again
-to the other—and God was busy meantime with the
-wound, the long bleeding, unstaunched wound.
-
-Harvey touched him on the shoulder. He looked
-a moment into his son's face, almost as if surprised
-to see him there. Then his eyes turned again to the
-lowly mounds, and he sank on his knees between
-them. Reverently, the yearning of the years finding
-now a voice, he stooped low till his lips touched the
-sod above the mother's face. Then his own was
-upturned to the distant sky, the lips moving.
-
-Harvey knew the broken vow was for God alone.
-He turned away. The moon stole gently forth from
-the passing cloud; and, as he turned, his eye fell on
-the new-illumined verse graven on the simple stone:
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: center white-space-pre-line
-
- "UNTIL THE DAY BREAK AND THE SHADOWS
- FLEE AWAY"
-
-.. vspace:: 3
-
-.. class:: center
-
- THE END
-
-.. vspace:: 3
-
-.. class:: center white-space-pre-line
-
- \*      \*      \*      \*      \*      \*      \*      \*
-
-.. vspace:: 4
-
-.. class:: center large bold
-
- By Robert E. Knowles
-
-.. vspace:: 2
-
-*The Attic Guest*
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-*The Web of Time*
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line
-
- *The Dawn at Shanty Bay*
- Decorated and Illustrated by Griselda M. McClure
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line
-
- *The Undertow*
- A Tale of Both Sides of the Sea
-
-.. vspace:: 1
-
-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line
-
- *St. Cuthbert's*
- A Parish Romance
-
-.. vspace:: 6
-
-.. pgfooter::
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