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diff --git a/old/52302-8.txt b/old/52302-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 45d1c39..0000000 --- a/old/52302-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5088 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Those Brewster Children, by Florence Morse -Kingsley, Illustrated by Emily Hall Chamberlain - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Those Brewster Children - - -Author: Florence Morse Kingsley - - - -Release Date: June 11, 2016 [eBook #52302] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THOSE BREWSTER CHILDREN*** - - -E-text prepared by David Edwards, Martin Pettit, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images -generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 52302-h.htm or 52302-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/52302/52302-h/52302-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/52302/52302-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/thosebrewsterchi00kingiala - - - - - -THOSE BREWSTER CHILDREN - - -[Illustration: The occasion was not wholly barren of material for a -trained psychologist (page 56)] - - -THOSE BREWSTER CHILDREN - -by - -FLORENCE MORSE KINGSLEY - -Author of "The Singular Miss -Smith," "And So They Were -Married," etc. - -With Illustrations by Emily Hall Chamberlain - - - - - - - -New York -Dodd, Mead & Company -1910 - -Copyright, 1908 -By Phelps Publishing Company - -Copyright, 1910 -By Dodd, Mead and Company - -Published, March, 1910 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -The occasion was not wholly barren of material - for a trained psychologist (page 56) _Frontispiece_ - -"Cwyin'?" he observed in a bird-like voice _Facing page_ 146 - -"She'll remember it, you'll find, better - than one of Mrs. Stanford's whippings" " " 182 - - - - -I - - -Elizabeth Brewster sat by the window of her sewing-room in the fading -light of the winter afternoon. She had been straining her eyes a little -over her work and the intent look did not leave them as she glanced out -into the gathering dusk. She could see all three of the children at -their play on the lawn. Carroll, tall and sturdy for his eight years; -Doris slim and active, her reddish blond hair streaming out from under -her hood and blowing about her eager little face, and three-year-old -Baby Richard, toiling manfully to keep up with the others as they piled -damp snow-balls into the rude semblance of a human figure. - -"Darlings!" murmured the mother to herself, a happy light seemingly -reflected from the red winter sunset shining on her face. She raised the -sash a hand's breadth and called to them, "Come in now, children; it is -growing too cold for Richard to stay out any longer." - -She glanced regretfully at her unfinished sewing as she rose, gathering -up thread, scissors and thimble with the absent-minded carefulness born -of long habit. Something was scorching on the kitchen range, she feared, -a well-founded distrust of the heavy-handed Norwegian maid hastening her -steps down the precipitous back stairway. - -The range was heated to redness, and several saucepans huddled together -over the hottest place were bubbling furiously. Celia, the maid, was -setting the table in the dining-room, with slow, meditative motions like -those of an ox. She did not appear at all disturbed at sight of her -mistress hurriedly dashing water into one of the utensils, from which -arose an evil-smelling steam. - -"Oh, Celia! how many times must I tell you to cook the vegetables in -plenty of water?" demanded Mrs. Brewster, in despairing tones. "And -look! your fire is almost up to the griddles. Have you shaken it down -this afternoon?" - -The girl shook her big head with its untidy braids of straw-coloured -hair. "Naw!" she observed explosively, after a pause filled with the -noise of descending ashes. - -"You should say 'no, Mrs. Brewster,' or 'no, ma'am,'" her mistress -said, with an obvious effort after self-control. "Try not to forget -again, Celia. Now you may go up to your room and make yourself tidy -before you finish dinner." - -The girl obeyed with the heavy, lurching steps of one crossing a -ploughed field. Elizabeth, hurriedly opening doors and windows to the -frosty sunset caught sight of her three children still busy about their -snow image. - -"Carroll, dear!" she called, "didn't you hear mother when she told you -to come in?" - -The boy turned his handsome head. "Yes, mother; I did hear you," he -said, earnestly, "an' I told Doris to go straight into the house an' -bring Richard; but she wouldn't go. I had to finish this first, you see, -'cause I've planned----" - -"Come in now," interrupted his mother, forestalling the detailed -explanation sure to follow. "Come in at once!" - -The boy dropped the snow-shovel with which he was carefully shaping the -base of his image. "Don't you hear mother, Doris?" he demanded in a -clear, authoritative voice. "You must go right in this minute an' take -Buddy." - -The little girl thrust out the tip of a saucy pink tongue at her -brother. - -"Mother said you too, Carroll Brewster; you don't have to tell me an' -Buddy. Does he, mother?" - -"Carroll! Doris!" - -There was no mistaking the tone of the mother's voice. The baby, -suddenly conscious of cold fingers and tingling toes, ran toward her -with a whining cry, his short arms outstretched. The others followed -slowly, exchanging mutinous glances. - -"Carroll is always trying to make me an' Buddy mind him; but we won't," -observed Doris, emphatically kicking her overshoes across the floor. - -"All three of you should obey mother every time," chanted Elizabeth in -the weary tone of an oft-repeated admonition. She sighed as she added, -"It is very naughty to argue and dispute." - -"But you see, mother, I'm the oldest," began Carroll argumentatively, -"an' I generally know what the children ought to do just as well as -anybody." - -He hung up his hat and coat and set his overshoes primly side by side -with a rebuking glance at his small sister, who tossed her mane of hair -at him disdainfully. - -"I see you've forgotten what mother said about overshoes, Doris," he -whispered with an air of superior merit which appeared to exasperate the -little girl beyond endurance. She leaned forward suddenly and a piercing -squeal from the boy announced the fact that virtue frequently reaps an -unexpected reward. - -"Doris pinched my ear hard, mother," he explained, winking fast to keep -back the unmanly tears. "I didn't even touch her." - -Elizabeth looked up from kissing and cuddling her baby. "Oh, Doris dear; -how could you! Don't you love your little brother?" - -The little girl flattened herself against the newel-post, her brown eyes -full of warm, dancing lights. "Sometimes I do, mother," she said, with -an air of engaging candour; "an' sometimes I feel jus'--like biting -him!" - -Elizabeth surveyed her daughter with large eyes of pained astonishment. - -"You make mother very sorry when you say such naughty things, Doris," -she said, severely. "Hang up your coat and hood; then you must go -up-stairs to your room and stay till I call you." - -In the half hour that followed Elizabeth gave her youngest his supper of -bread and milk and hurried him off to bed, endeavouring in the meanwhile -to keep a watchful eye upon the operations of the heavy-handed Celia, -now irreproachable in a freshly starched cap and apron, and an attentive -ear for Carroll practicing scales and exercises in the parlour. Later -there was a salad to make, which involved the skilful compounding of a -French dressing, and last of all a hurried freshening of her own toilet -before the quick opening of the front door announced the advent of the -head of the house. - -Elizabeth was fastening her collar with fingers which trembled a little -with the strain of her multiplied activities, when she heard her -husband's voice upraised in joyous greetings to the children. "Hello -there, Carroll, old man! And daddy's little girl, too!" - -She had entirely forgotten Doris, and that young person had quite -evidently escaped from durance vile into the safe shelter of her -father's arms. After all, it was a small matter, Elizabeth assured -herself; and Sam disliked tears and unpleasantness during the hours, few -and short, he could spend with the children. Promising herself that she -would talk seriously with the small offender at bed-time she ran down -stairs to receive her own greeting, none the less prized and longed for -after ten years of married life. - -Her husband's eyes met her own with a smile. "Betty--dear!" he -whispered, passing his arm about her shoulders. Doris from the other -side peered around at her mother, her bright eyes full of laughing -triumph. - -"If I'm not very much mistaken," her father said mysteriously, "there's -something in my coat pocket for good children." - -Doris instantly joined her brother in a race for the highly desirable -pocket, and the two were presently engaged in an amicable division of -the spoils. - -"You mustn't eat any candy till after dinner, children," warned -Elizabeth. - -Doris had already set her sharp white teeth in a bonbon, when her -father's hand interposed. "Hold hard, there, youngsters," he said; "you -heard the order of the court; no candy till after dinner." - -"Just this one, daddy," pouted Doris. "I think I might." She swallowed -it quickly and reached for another. - -"Not till after dinner, young lady," and the pasteboard box was lifted -high out of reach of small exploring fingers. - -"Oh, Sam, why will you persist in bringing home candy?" Elizabeth asked, -with a sort of tired indulgence in her voice. "You know they oughtn't to -have it." - -"I forgot, Betty. Please, ma'am, will you 'xcuse me, just this once--if -I'll never do it again?" - -His upraised hands and appealing eyes were irresistibly funny. Elizabeth -laughed helplessly, and the children rolled on the floor in an ecstasy -of mirth. - -When presently all trooped out to dinner neither parent observed Doris -as she nibbled a second bonbon. - -"Oh-o-o! You naughty girl!" whispered Carroll enviously. "Where did you -get that?" - -"Out of the box," replied the small maiden, with a toss of her yellow -head. "Um-m, it's good; don't you wish you had some?" - -"Mother said----" - -"Don't talk so loud; I'll give you half!" - -"It's most all gone now. I'll tell mother, if you don't give me all the -rest." And the boy reached masterfully for the coveted morsel. - -"You're such a rude child you oughtn't to have any," observed Doris, -nonchalantly bestowing the debatable dainty in her own mouth. "If you -tell, I'll call you 'tattle-tale'!" she said thickly; "then the' won't -either of us get any." - -Carroll scowled fiercely at this undeniable statement. His father did -not encourage unmanly reprisals. - -"You're an awful selfish child, Doris," he said reproachfully, "an' -that's worse 'an being rude; mother said so. It's worser 'an anything to -be selfish. _I_ wouldn't do it; guess I wouldn't!" - -"I am not selfish!" - -"You are, too!" - -"_Chil--dren!_" - -Their mother's vaguely admonitory voice caused the belligerents to slip -meekly enough into their respective seats. They were hungry, and the -soup smelled good. But their eyes and explorative toes continued the -skirmish in a spirited manner. - -"I had a letter from Evelyn Tripp to-day," Elizabeth was saying, as she -fastened the children's long linen bibs. "----Sit up straight in your -chair, Doris, and stop wriggling." - -Sam Brewster cast an admonitory eye upon his son. "Evelyn Tripp!" he -echoed, "I haven't heard you mention the lady in a long time." - -"You know they left Boston last year and I hardly ever see her -now-a-days. Poor Evelyn!" - -"It is too bad," he said with mock solicitude. "Now, if you hardly ever -saw me it would be 'poor Sam,' I suppose." - -"The Tripps lost most of their money," she went on, ignoring his -frivolous comment; "then they moved to Dorchester." - -He helped himself to more soup with a reminiscent smile. "Worse luck for -Dorchester," he murmured. - -"Why, Sam," she said reprovingly. "Of course Evelyn was--Evelyn; but -she was as kind as could be just after we were married, and before, too. -Don't you remember?" - -"Oh, yes; I remember perfectly. We were pawns on the chess-board in Miss -Tripp's skilful hands for awhile," he agreed drily. "She's a Napoleon, -a--er--Captain of Industry, a----" - -"Please don't, Sam," interrupted Elizabeth. "Poor Evelyn has been very -unfortunate, and I'm sorry for her. She--wants to come and make us a -visit, and I----" - -An appalling thump and a smothered squeal marked the spot where, at this -crucial point in the conversation, Doris suddenly disappeared from view. -Her father stooped to peer under the cloth. - -"Will you kindly tell me what you were trying to do, Doris?" he -demanded, as he fished his daughter out from under the table in a more -or less dishevelled condition. - -"It was Carroll's fault, daddy," replied the child. "He kicked me under -the table, an' course I was 'bliged to kick him back; an' I did it!" - -Her air of sparkling triumph provoked a smile from her father; but -Elizabeth looked grave. - -"I really think," she said, "that Doris ought to go upstairs without -dessert. You know, Doris, you disobeyed mother when you came down -without leave." - -The little girl's eyes flashed angry fire. "Carroll kicked me first," -she pouted, "an' I couldn't reach him; he wasn't fair 'cause he got 'way -back in his chair on purpose; you know you did, Carroll Brewster!" - -Elizabeth turned judicially to her son. - -"No, mother," explained the boy, "I didn't really kick Doris; I just put -out my toe and poked her,--just a small, soft poke; you know it didn't -hurt, Doris; but I did squeeze back in my chair so you couldn't reach -me." His candid blue eyes, so like his father's, looked full into hers. - -"Well, in view of the evidence, I propose that you suspend sentence, -Betty, and let them both off," put in the head of the house. "You'll be -a good girl and keep your toes under your chair, won't you, Dorry?" - -"Yes, daddy, I will," promised the little girl, gazing up at her father -from under her curved lashes with the dimpled sweetness of a youthful -seraph. "I do love you so, daddy," she cooed gently. "I feel just like -kissing you!" - -Her father caught the child in his arms and pressed half a dozen kisses -on her rosy cheeks before depositing her in her chair. "Remember, -girlie, you must be as quiet as a mouse or your mother will whisk you -off to bed before you can say Jack Robinson." He cast a laughing glance -across the table at his wife. "You see we all stand in proper awe of -you, my dear!" - -"Oh, Sam!" murmured Elizabeth reprovingly; but she laughed with the -children. - - - - -II - - -When the militant young Brewsters were at last safely bestowed in bed, -Elizabeth sank into her low chair with an involuntary sigh of relief--or -fatigue, she hardly knew which. - -"Tired, dear?" asked her husband, glancing up from his paper. "I suppose -you've put in a pretty hard day breaking in the foreigner. But you're -doing wonders. The dinner wasn't half bad, and the mechanic didn't break -a single dish in the process; at least I didn't hear the usual crash -from the rear." - -She smiled back at him remotely. She did not think it worth while to -report the scorched potatoes, or the broken platter belonging to her -best set of dishes. - -"I was thinking about Doris," she said. - -Her husband's eyes lighted with a reminiscent smile. "Little monkey!" he -exclaimed. "She slid down the banisters like a streak of lightning and -flew into my arms before I had time to take off my overcoat. She said -she was sitting on the stairs, waiting for me to come. Not many -children think enough about seeing their old daddy to sit on the stairs -in the dark!" - -"I'm really sorry to undeceive you, Sam; but I had sent that child up to -her room, and told her to stay there till I called her!" Elizabeth -informed him crisply. - -"Wherefore the incarceration, O lady mother?" - -"She was very naughty, Sam; she pinched Carroll, and when I reproved her -for doing it, she said she felt like biting him. Think of that! Of -course I had to do something." - -"What had Carroll done to provoke the cannibalistic desire on the part -of the young woman?" he wanted to know, with judicial calm. - -"Nothing at all, except to remind Doris to hang up her coat and put her -overshoes away, as I've told them both to do repeatedly." - -His mouth twitched with an amused smile. "And Dorry punished him -promptly for his display of superior virtue--eh? Well, it may be very -much out of order for a mere father to say so, but I'll venture to -express the opinion that it won't hurt Master Carroll to get an -occasional snubbing from somebody. He's a good deal of a prig, Betty, -and it's got to come out of him some way or other between now and his -Sophomore year in college. Better not interfere too often, my dear. Let -'em work it out; it won't hurt either of 'em." - -His wife surveyed him with wide, sad eyes. "Oh, Sam!" she murmured, "how -can you talk like that? Carroll tries to be a good boy and help me all -he can. But Doris----" - -"Don't you worry about the little girl," advised her husband, laying a -soothing hand on hers. "She's all right." - -"She ought not to quarrel with the other children; or disobey me. You -know that, Sam." - -"Of course not. You'll have to make her toe the mark, Betty." - -"But how, Sam? I've tried. I'm positively worn out trying." - -The man pursed up his lips in an inaudible whistle. "Upon my word, -Betty," he broke out at length, "I don't know as I can tell you. We -don't stand for whipping, you know. Beating small children always struck -me as being a relic of the dark ages; and I know I could never stand it -to see a child of mine cower before me out of physical fear. But we -mustn't spoil 'em!" - -"Marian Stanford whips Robbie every time he disobeys," Elizabeth said -after a lengthening pause. "She uses a butter-paddle--the kind I make -those little round balls with; you know it has a corrugated surface. She -says it is just the thing; it hurts so nicely. But I'm sure Robbie -Stanford is far naughtier than Carroll ever thinks of being." - -Her husband broke into a helpless laugh which he promptly repressed at -sight of her indignant face. - -"You oughtn't to laugh, Sam," she told him, in a tone of dignified -reproof. "You may not think it very important--all this about the -children; but it is. It is the most important thing in the world. Even -Marian Stanford says----" - -"Why do you discuss the subject with her?" interrupted Sam. "You'll -never agree; and whatever we do with our own children, we mustn't force -our views on other people." - -She surveyed him with a mutinous expression about her pretty lips. -"Marian doesn't hesitate to criticise my methods," she said. "The last -time I saw her she informed me that she had whipped her baby--only -think, Sam, her _baby_!" - -"Did she use the butter-paddle on the unfortunate infant?" he wanted to -know, with a quizzical lift of his eyebrows; "or was it a spanking _au -naturel_?" - -Elizabeth repressed his levity with a frown. "I wonder at you, Sam, for -thinking there's anything funny about it," she said rebukingly. "I -didn't feel at all like laughing when she said--with such a superior -air--'Livingstone's been getting altogether too much for me lately, and -this morning I took the paddle to him and whipped him soundly. He was -the most surprised child you ever saw!' Of course I didn't _say_ -anything. What could I have said? But I must have looked what I felt, -for she burst out laughing. 'Dear, dear!' she said, 'how indignant you -do look; but I intend to have _my_ children mind me.' Then she glanced -at Richard peacefully pulling the spools out of my basket as if she -pitied him for having such a fond, weak mother as to allow it." - -Sam Brewster rumpled his hair with a smothered yawn. "Marian is -certainly a strenuous lady," he murmured. "But let me advise you, Betty, -not to discuss family discipline with her, if you wish to preserve -peaceful relations between the families. The illegitimate use of the -Stanford butter-paddle is nothing to us, you know.--Er--you were telling -me about the letter you had from the fair Evelyn," he went on -pacifically, "and did my ears deceive me? or did you intimate that our -dear friend Miss Tripp was coming to spend the day with us soon?" - -"To spend the day!" echoed Elizabeth. "She's coming to stay two weeks. I -had to ask her, Sam," she added, quickly forestalling his dismayed -protest; "she is obliged to be in town interviewing lawyers and people, -and I did want to do something to help her. Sam, she thinks she may be -obliged to teach, or do something; but she isn't up on anything, and I -don't believe she could possibly get any sort of a position." - -"Betty, you're a good little woman," he said, beaming humorously upon -her; "and I never felt more convinced of the fact than I do this -minute. I'm game, though; I'll do everything I can to help in my small, -weak way." - -Elizabeth gazed at her husband with wide, meditative eyes. "I do wish," -she said devoutly, "that Evelyn could meet some nice, suitable man. -She's really very attractive--you know she is, Sam--and it would solve -all her problems so beautifully." - -"How would Hickey do?" he inquired lazily. "George is forty, if not fat -and fair; and he's a thoroughly good fellow." - - - - -III - - -Elizabeth Brewster had been awake in the night, as was her custom, -making her noiseless rounds of the children's beds by the dim light of a -candle. A cold wind had sprung up, with driving snow and sleet, and she -feared its incursion into her nursery. Daylight found her in the kitchen -superintending the slow movements of Celia, who upset the coffee-pot, -dropped a soft-boiled egg on the hearth and stumbled over her untied -shoe-strings in her untutored efforts to assist. - -Close upon the hurried departure of her husband to his office in a -distant part of the city, came the sound of small feet and voices from -above. With Sam's kiss still warm on her lips she ran lightly upstairs. -Carroll, partly dressed, stood before the mirror brushing his hair, in -funny imitation of his father's careful manner of accomplishing that -necessary process; while Doris scampered wildly about in her night-gown, -her small bare feet pink with cold. - -"I wanted to see my daddy," she pouted, as her mother remonstrated. "I -wanted to tell him somesing." - -"You can tell him to-night, girlie.--Yes, baby; in just a minute!" -Elizabeth's fingers were flying as she pulled on the little girl's warm -stockings and buttoned her shoes. "Now then, kittykins, slip into your -warm dressing-gown and see how nicely you can brush your teeth, while -mother--What is it, Carroll? Oh, a button off? Well, I'll sew it on. -Give Buddy his picture-book.--Yes, pet; mother knows you're hungry; you -shall have breakfast in just a minute. See the pretty pictures.--That's -right, Carroll, my work-basket. Now stand still while I--Oh, Doris dear! -Did you drop the glass?" - -"It was all slippy, mother, an' I couldn't hold it. It's on the floor, -mother, all in teeny, weeny pieces!" - -"Don't step on them! Wait, I'll sweep up the pieces.--Yes, baby, mother -hears you! See the pretty picture of the little pigs! Those nice little -pigs aren't crying!--Wait, Carroll, till mother fastens the thread. -There, that's done! Now put the basket--What is it, Doris? Oh, poor -little girl; you've cut your finger. Don't cry! But you see you should -have minded mother and not touched the broken glass. Now we'll tie it up -in this nice soft cloth, and---- - -"Yes, Celia; what is it? Oh, the butcher? Well, let me think--We had -beefsteak last night. Tell him to bring chops--nice ones; not like the -last.--Oh, I must run down and speak to that boy; he's so careless with -the orders! Tell him to wait a minute, Celia.--Carroll, won't you show -baby his pictures and keep him quiet till I--No, Doris; you mustn't -touch that bottle; that is father's bay-rum. Put it down, quick!" - -The meddlesome little fingers let go the bottle with a jerk. It fell to -the floor, its fragrant contents pouring over the carpet. "Oh, you -naughty child! What will mother do with you? All of daddy's nice--Yes, -Celia; I hear you. I am coming directly. I must wipe up this--He says he -can't wait? Well, tell him to bring two pounds of nice lamb chops--rib -chops. If they are like the last ones he brought tell him I shall send -them right back. - -"Now, Doris, I want you to look at mother. Why did you climb up in that -chair and pull the cork out of the bottle, when I've told you never to -meddle with the things on the chiffonière?" - -"I should think that child would know better after a while," put in -Carroll, with the solemn air of an octogenarian grandfather. "You ought -to have remembered the salad oil last week, Doris, and the ink the week -before!" - -"Don't interrupt, Carroll; I'm talking to Doris just now. Look at -mother; don't hang your head." - -"I wanted to--smell of it," muttered the child, digging her round chin -into her neck, while she eyed her mother from under puckered brows. -"Daddy said I might; lots of times he lets me smell it." - -"Yes, when he holds the bottle; but now, you see, poor daddy won't have -any nice bay-rum the next time he wants to shave. He'll say 'who spilled -my bay-rum?'" - -"It smells good!" observed Doris, filling the judicial pause with a -rapturous giggle. - -"But it will all evaporate before night," said Elizabeth, taking up her -youngest, who had thrown The Adventures of Seven Little Pigs on the -floor and was protesting loudly at the delay. - -"How do you spell evaporate, mother?" asked Carroll. "That's a funny -word--e-vap-o-rate. What does it mean, mother?" - -"It means to go away into the air--to disappear," Elizabeth told him. -"See the big spot on the floor, and smell how fragrant the air is. Now -we'll go down to breakfast and I will open the windows; when I come back -after a while the bay-rum will be gone; it will be evaporated. Do you -understand? Doris can't pick it up and put it back into the bottle, no -matter how sorry she may feel to think she has been so careless." - -Two widely opened pairs of serious eyes travelled from the lessening -spot on the floor to her face. - -"I think it would be nice to spill a bottle of 'fumery every day an' -smell it 'vaporate," gurgled Doris, showing her dimples. - -Elizabeth lifted the mischievous face toward hers with an admonitory -finger-tip. "I'll tell you, Doris, what you must do to make it right -with father," she said slowly and impressively. "You must take all the -money out of your bank and buy a new bottle of bay-rum." - -She felt that for once, at least, she had made the punishment fit the -crime to a nicety. - -"Not all my money, mother?" - -"It will take every cent of it, I am afraid." - -The small culprit clapped her hands and executed an impromptu pirouette. -"Oh, goody, goody, Carroll! mother says I may spend all my money; won't -that be fun? When, mother, when can I buy the bottle for daddy? To-day? -Say yes, mother; please say yes!" - -Elizabeth buried her face in her baby's fat neck to conceal the -rebellious smile that would curve her young lips, just when she knew she -ought to be grave and severe. - -"If you are a good girl in kindergarten I will take you to the store -this afternoon," she said finally, with an undercurrent of wonder at the -punishment which had so suddenly been metamorphosed into a reward. These -singular transformations were apt to occur when her small daughter was -concerned. She reflected upon the recurrence of the phenomenon as she -brushed the silken mass of Doris' blond hair and fastened up her frock -in the back, both operations being impeded by the wrigglings of the -stalwart infant in her lap. - -"I like to smell 'fumery," announced the young person, at the conclusion -of her toilet, "an' I love--I jus' love to hear pennies jingle in my -pocket. Can I empty the money out of my bank now, mother? Can I?" She -swung backward and forward on her toes like a bird poised for flight. - -"You must eat your breakfast and go to school," Elizabeth said, trying -hard to keep her rising impatience out of her voice. "And after -school----" - -"After school can I take my bank? The very minute it's out? Can I, -mother; can I?" - -"You should say _may_ I; not _can_ I, Doris. Yes; if you're a good girl -in kindergarten, and keep hold of Carroll's hand all the way going and -coming, why then----" - -"I don't like to take hold of hands with Carroll," objected Doris, -drawing her lips into a scarlet bud. "I like to walk by my lone; but I -promise I won't get run over or anything. I'll be just as good!" - -It wasn't far to the little school where both children spent the -morning. Elizabeth watched her darlings quite to the corner, pleased to -observe that they were clinging obediently to each other's hands and -apparently engaged in amicable conversation. - -Then her thoughts turned with some anxiety upon the approaching visit of -Miss Tripp. She was very fond of Evelyn Tripp, she assured herself, and -if it were not for Celia, and the spare-room (which needed new curtains, -new paper and a larger rug to cover the worn place in the carpet), and -if--she wrinkled her pretty forehead unbecomingly--the children could -only be depended upon. One could not safely predict the conduct of Doris -from hour to hour; and while, of course, Carroll was the best child in -the world; still, even Carroll--upon occasions--could be very trying to -the nerves. As for Richard, he was the baby; and no one, not even Evelyn -Tripp, could fail to understand the subordinate position of the average -household in its relations to the baby of the house. She kissed and -hugged the small tyrant rapturously, while she set forth a plenitude of -building-blocks, picture-books, trains, engines and wagons of miniature -sizes and brilliant colours calculated to enchain the infant attention. - -"Now, darling," she cooed, "here are all your pretty playthings; sit -right down and play, and be a good little man, while mother runs out in -the kitchen a minute to see what Celia is doing." - -Richard surveyed his spread-out possessions with a distinctly bored -expression on his round cherubic countenance. He had seen and handled -those trains, wagons, engines and blocks many, many times before, and -they did not appeal to his infant imagination with the same alluring -force as did some other objects in the room. Had his mother seen fit to -install the scarlet locomotive, for example, on the lofty mantle-piece -with a stern interdiction upon it, it would doubtless have appeared -supremely attractive. But the infant mind does not differ in essentials -from that of the adult. The difficult, the forbidden, the almost -unattainable fires the ambition and stiffens the will. There was a glass -tank in the bay-window, situated on what appeared to Richard as a lofty -and well-nigh inaccessible table. It contained a large quantity of water -of a greenish hue, as well as a number of swift-moving, glittering, -golden things which flashed in and out between the green, waving plants -rooted in the sand at the bottom. - -Now Richard had been sternly forbidden to touch this enticing -combination of objects. Nevertheless he had done it; not only once, but -twice--thrice. He recalled with rapture the cool, slippery feel of the -stones; the entrancing drip and gurgle of the water; the elusive, -flitting shapes of the yellow things, "sishes," he called them fondly, -which an adroit hand could occasionally manage to seize and hold for a -brief instant. - -A stray sunbeam darted into the aquarium and lit up its mysterious -depths with irresistible gorgeousness. Richard gazed and gazed; then he -turned and kicked the red locomotive; under the impact of his pudgy foot -it dashed with futile energy into the ruck of wagons, cars and -building-blocks and lay there on its side, its feeble little wheels -turning slowly. - -"Nas'y ol' twain!" muttered the infant disgustedly. - - - - -IV - - -Meanwhile Elizabeth in her kitchen was busy unearthing divers culinary -crimes in the various cupboards and closets where the stolid Celia -displayed a positive ingenuity in concealing the evidences of her -misdoings. It was not perhaps to be wondered at that the untutored -Norwegian should elect to boil her dish-cloth with the embroidered -doilies from the dining-room; or that the soap should be discovered in a -state of gelatinous collapse in the bottom of the scrubbing pail and the -new cereal cooker burning gaily on the range. But Elizabeth's strained -patience finally snapped in twain at sight of a pile of parti-coloured -bits of china in the bottom of the coal-hod. - -"My best salad bowl!" she exclaimed, stooping to examine the grimy -fragments. "When did you break it, Celia?" - -The girl was standing at the sink, presenting her broad back like a -solidly built wall against the rising tide of her mistress' -indignation. Her big blond head sank forward over her dish-pan; a -guttural murmur issued from her lips. - -"And I have always been so careful of it! It was one of my wedding -presents!" continued Elizabeth, in a fine crescendo. "How did you do -it?" - -The girl had turned on both faucets, and the descending torrent of -rushing water drowned the anguished inquiry. - -"You know I told you never to touch that bowl. I preferred to wash it -myself. You must have taken it out of the dining-room. Why did you do -it?" - -"I no take heem out--naw! I smash heem when I move the side-brood." The -girl's broad magenta-tinted face was turned suddenly upon her mistress. -She appeared excessively pleased with her mastery of the difficult -English tongue. "I scrub ze floor; I s-m-a-s-h heem," she repeated -positively. - -Elizabeth drew a deep breath. Scrubbing was Celia's one distinguished -accomplishment. The spotless floors and table and the shining faucets -and utensils bore evidence to the earnestness of her purpose and the -undeniable strength of her arms. - -"You didn't mean to do it, I am sure," she said at last, with a -renunciatory sigh; "but remember in future you must not move the dishes -on the side-board unless I am there to help you." - -"I no move heem; I s-m-a-s-h heem." - -"Yes, I understand; but don't do it again." - -"I no s-m-a-s-h heem 'gain--Naw!" The girl's china blue eyes gazed -guilelessly into the depths of the coal-hod; she lifted them with a -triumphant smile upon her mistress. "I _have_--s-m-ash!" - -The trill of the door-bell put an end to this improving conversation; -Elizabeth answered it herself by way of the sitting-room, where she -paused to remove Richard, damp and dripping, from an ecstatic -exploration of the gold-fish tank. The sound of his passionate protest -followed her to the front door and lent a crisp decision to her tones as -she informed a gentleman of an Hebraic cast of countenance that she did -not wish to exchange old shoes of any description for "an elegant -sauce-pan, lady; cost you one dollar in the store. Only one pair shoes, -lady, this grand piece; cost you one dol----" - -Elizabeth shut the door firmly upon the glittering temptation and -returned to her youngest born, who was weeping large tears of wrath in -the middle of the sitting-room floor. - -"Come up stairs with mother, Richard; your sleeves are all wet," -exhorted his mother, struggling with a sudden temptation. It would have -been a relief to her feelings to spank him soundly, and she acknowledged -as much to herself. - -"Come, dear," she repeated, in a carefully controlled voice. But -Richard's fat legs doubled limply under him; he appeared unable to take -a single step; whereupon his slender mother masterfully picked him up, -despite the mysterious increase in his weight which she had had frequent -occasion to notice in the person of an angry child. - -It was useless at the present moment to remind her son of oft-repeated -prohibitions concerning the gold-fish tank. Elizabeth pondered the -question of an appropriate penalty with knit brows, while she washed and -dressed him in dry garments to the accompaniment of his doleful sobs. - -"Now, Richard, you must stay in your crib till you can be a good boy and -mind mother," was the somewhat vague sentence of the maternal court at -the conclusion of the necessary rehabilitation, whereupon the infant -howled anew as if under acute bodily torture. - -As she turned to pick up the wet clothing a cheerful voice called her to -the top of the stairs. "Shall I come up, dear? Your kitchen divinity -admitted me and told me to walk right in." - -"Oh,--Marian; I'll be right down. I've had to dress Dick over again, and -everything's in confusion. Go in the sitting-room, please." - -Elizabeth wanted time to collect herself before meeting the cool, amused -eyes of Marian Stanford, whose ideas on the government of children were -so wholly at variance with her own. - -"When you are ready to be a good boy, Richard, you may call mother and I -will come up and take you out of your crib," was her parting observation -to the culprit. - -"Oh, Elizabeth, dear; I'm afraid I interrupted a little maternal -seance," was Mrs. Stanford's greeting. "No? Well, I'm glad if I haven't. -It does vex me so when someone chances to call just as I am having it -out with one of the infants." - -"Richard got his sleeves wet," explained Richard's mother, with what the -other mentally termed "a really funny air of dignity." - -Mrs. Stanford's uplifted eyebrows and a flitting glance in the direction -of the gold-fish tank expressed her complete understanding of the -matter. - -"I remember you told me your child was fond of fishing," she murmured. -"So like his dear father." - -Elizabeth's tense mouth relaxed into a smile. The howls upstairs had -ceased; but she was conscious of waiting for something, she hardly knew -what, to follow. - -"Do tell me what you do in a case like this?" pursued Mrs. Stanford -guilefully. "You know I'm perfectly willing to abandon my crude attempts -at training the infant mind the instant you, or anybody, can show me -something more efficient than my beloved butter-paddle. I tell Jim the -B. P. is my best friend these days. It is absolutely the only thing -that intimidates Robert in the slightest degree." - -Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. "_Intimidates?_" she repeated. - -Mrs. Stanford laughed. "Yes; intimidates. My dear, that child is a -terror! I'm at my wit's end with him half the time; and as for -Livingstone, he's going to be worse; I can see that already." - -Elizabeth hesitated while the warm colour dyed her cheeks. "You know -what I think about terrifying children into obedience, Marian; and I -know what you think. We really oughtn't to discuss it." - -The fine scorn in her eyes suddenly gave place to a look of alarm at -sound of an appalling thump on the floor above. She darted from the room -and up the stairs to the accompaniment of roars of anguish. - -Marian Stanford moved her handsome shoulders gently. "She must have put -Richard in his crib and told him to stay there," was her entirely -correct supposition. "Of course he didn't stay put." - -Marian Stanford was a graduate of Wellesley, and her mind filled with -fragments of imperfectly acquired science not infrequently chanced upon -a suggestive sequence. She could not resist the temptation to share her -present gleam of enlightenment with dear Elizabeth (who had never been -to college) when she presently returned, bearing Richard in her arms. -The child was still drawing convulsive, half-sobbing breaths, and a -handkerchief wet with witch hazel was laid across his forehead. - -"He fell out of his crib, poor darling!" explained Elizabeth. - -"I suppose you had told him not to get out?" - -Elizabeth eyed her friend speculatively over the top of her baby's curly -head. It was useless to be offended with Marian; she never seemed to be -aware of it. - -"You were about to say something enlightening," she observed with -delicate sarcasm. "You may as well out with it." - -Mrs. Stanford smiled appreciatively. "You always were a clever creature, -Elizabeth," she drawled; "but had it occurred to you that I would never -have thought of thumping my child as the law of gravitation thumped -yours just now? You wouldn't punish a certain young person for -disobeying because you are so anxious to spare him pain; but I should -say he'd been punished pretty severely--corporal punishment at that!" - -"The poor darling fell out of his crib, Marian, and hurt himself. Any -child might do that." - -Marian Stanford got to her feet lazily. She was one of those women who -manage to accomplish a great deal of work with the least possible -apparent effort. All her movements were deliberate, even indolent. -Elizabeth envied her sometimes in the midst of her own somewhat -breathless exertions. - -"I came over to get your pattern for Carroll's blouse," she said; "not -to discuss the government of children. But we seem to be at it, as -usual. What I meant to convey was commonplace enough; if you had seen -fit to settle the matter of the fish tank with a sound spanking, -administered on the spot, Richard might not--mind I do not say would -not--but he might not have acquired this particular thump at the hands -of Mrs. Be-done-by-as-you-did. It just occurred to me, dear, and you -know I never could keep my thoughts to myself as I should." - -Elizabeth arose, deposited her child on the couch and produced a roll of -patterns from a drawer in her desk. "Here is the blouse, Marian," she -said; "you'll need to cut it larger for Robbie; he is so broad in the -shoulders. Be careful about the collar, though, or you'll get it too big -around the neck." - -Marian Stanford was weak when it came to sewing. Elizabeth felt herself -again as she saw the puzzled look in her friend's face. "This is the -neck-band," she explained, "and this is the collar. You must be careful -not to stretch the cloth after you have cut it. But you know perfectly -well, Marian, that we _never_ shall think alike about the way to bring -up children. I simply will not whip my children--no matter what they do! -They are not animals to be tortured into submission." - -Mrs. Stanford laughed good-humouredly. "I'm afraid mine are," she said. -"But never mind, Betty; we won't quarrel over it; you're too sweetly -useful, and frankly I can't afford to. If I get into a mess over this -blouse I shall come over to be extricated." - -Ten minutes later Elizabeth was surprised to hear her husband's rapid -foot in the hall. She ran to meet him with an anxious face. - -"Nothing's the matter, dear," he said at once; "that is to say, nothing -alarming. I was over this way to see Biddle & Crofut and ran in to tell -you that Miss Tripp telephoned to the office this morning to inform me -that she'd been called into town a day earlier than she expected to -come, and would I--could I get word to her dearest Elizabeth that she -would be with her this afternoon." - -Elizabeth drew a deep breath. "Well," she said resignedly; "Celia is -sweeping the spare room, and I'm making some new curtains out of my old -muslin dress; you'll be surprised to see how well they'll look, Sam. But -I've only a rice pudding for dessert, and----" - -"I might order some ice-cream," he suggested, "and some--er----" - -A sudden suspicion assailed his Elizabeth; she gazed searchingly at her -husband. "You haven't told me all," she said. "Don't overwhelm me by -saying that Mrs. Tripp is coming too." - -He met her inquiring eyes rather shamefacedly. "To tell you the truth, -Betty, Hickey chanced to be in the office at the time the Tripp lady -telephoned, and I--er--recalled what you said last night; so I----" - -"You _didn't_ ask Mr. Hickey to dinner to-night, Sam?" - -"Why not? Aside from any sentimental considerations George is good -company; and he's very appreciative of a certain little home-maker I -know, and of the dinners he's eaten here in the past." - -"But it seems so--sudden!" - -He roared with laughter. "'In your mind's eye, Horatio,'" he quoted, -when he had recovered himself somewhat. "You must remember, my dear, -that neither the Tripp lady nor Hickey are aware of your Machiavellian -designs upon their future." - -"Mr. Hickey wasn't a part of my _designs_, as you call them," she -reminded him with spirit. "I merely said that I wished poor Evelyn could -find some nice suitable man, and you said----" - -"We certainly owe the lady a 'suitable' article of some sort or other," -he observed, with a reminiscent twinkle in his blue eyes, "if it's -nothing more than a husband, and I'd like you to understand, Betty, that -Hickey is my candidate." - -She glanced at her watch with a little shriek of dismay. "We mustn't -waste another minute talking," she said. "Evelyn will be here before I'm -half ready for her." - - - - -V - - -An unlooked for guest, involving new curtains for the guest-room, did -not prevent Elizabeth from the conscientious discharge of her maternal -duties. She resolved for once to play the stern part of Mrs. -Be-done-by-as-you-did. - -Richard was playing with his blocks with perfect equanimity, a large -black and blue lump on his forehead marking his recent experience with -the undeviating law of gravitation. He gave utterance to a little yelp -of protest as his mother took him up in her lap with a firm hand. - -"You know, Richard," she said solemnly, "that mother has told you ever -so many times that you must not put your hand into the aquarium where -the pretty gold-fish live. Why didn't you mind mother?" - -There being a new link established in the chain of associations -connected with the gold-fish, the infant put his fat hand to the lump on -his forehead and gazed unwinkingly at his parent. - -"I like to sp'ash water," he announced conclusively. "I like bafs." - -Elizabeth reflected that in a rudimentary way her child was endeavouring -to make clear his motives, and even to place them on a praiseworthy -basis. A feeling of pride in the distinguished intelligence of her -children swelled within her; she suppressed it as she went on with an -impressive show of maternal authority. - -"Yes, Richard; mother knows you like to take your bath; but we don't -take baths with the gold-fish. Besides, you got your nice clean dress -all wet, and made poor mother a great deal of trouble. Then, when mother -told you to stay in your crib, you disobeyed again and got a dreadful -bump." - -The infant appeared to ponder these indubitable statements for a space. -Then he broke into an ingratiating smile. "I was tomin' to tell mudzer I -was a dood boy," he said earnestly. "Zen I bumped my head." - -The violet depths of his eyes under their upturned lashes were -altogether adorable; so was his pink mouth, half parted and curved -exquisitely like the petals of a flower. Elizabeth's arms closed round -her treasure; her lips brushed the warm rose of his cheeks. - -"Darling!" she murmured, for the moment quite losing sight of the fact -that she was engaged in the difficult task of moral suasion. Elizabeth -was almost guiltily open to the appeal of infantile beauty as opposed to -the stern demands of discipline. The sight of a dimple, appearing and -disappearing in a soft cheek, the quiver of baby lips; the irresistible -twinkle of dawning humour in baby eyes were enough to distract her mind -from any number of infantile peccadillos, and it is to be feared that -the exceedingly intelligent Brewster children had become aware of it. - -"I am a dood boy," repeated Richard, with a bewitching glance at his -parent. Then his chin quivered pathetically and he raised his hand to -his head and peered out from under his pink palm. "I bumped my head on -ze floor." - -Elizabeth hardened her heart against these multiplied fascinations. "You -disobeyed mother twice," she said sternly. "I shall have to do something -to make you remember not to touch the gold-fish again." - -She looked about her somewhat uncertainly as if in search of a suitable -yet entirely safe idea. "I think," she said solemnly, "that I shall tie -you to the arm of this big chair for--_ten minutes_!" - -The corners of Richard's pink mouth suddenly drooped as this terrible -sentence of the maternal court was pronounced. - -"I am a dood boy, mudzer," he quavered. "I bumped my head on ze floor -an' I cwied!" - -Two dimpled arms were thrown about Elizabeth's neck and a curly head -burrowed passionately into her bosom. "I love 'oo, mudzer; I am a dood -boy!" - -"I know you mean to be good, darling!" exclaimed Elizabeth, her heart -melting within her; "but you do forget so often. Mother wants to help -you to remember." - -But the intelligent infant had given himself up to an unpremeditated -luxury of grief, and Elizabeth found herself in the unexpected position -of a suppliant consoler. She begged her child to stop crying; she kissed -the black and blue spot on his forehead and soothed him with soft -murmurs and gentle caresses, and when finally he had sobbed himself to -sleep in her arms, she bestowed the moist rosy little bundle on the -couch, covering him warmly; then, with a parting pat and cuddle, sat -down to her belated work on the spare-room curtains, feeling that she -had been very severe indeed with her youngest child. - -Richard was still rosily asleep and Elizabeth was hurriedly attaching -the ruffles to one of the improvised curtains when Celia, with two -buttons off her frock in the back and a broad streak of stove-blacking -across her honest red face, announced "one nize lady." - -Elizabeth sprang to her feet in sudden consternation at sight of the -small square of white pasteboard with which Celia prefaced her -announcement. - -Mrs. J. Mortimer Van Duser was a distant relative of Samuel Brewster's, -and it pleased her to be kind, in an imposing and majestic -manner--entirely suited to her own imposing and majestic person--to his -"little family," as she invariably termed it. Elizabeth had assured her -husband on more than one occasion that she did not feel the least -embarrassment in that august presence; but her heart still flew to her -mouth at sight of the entirely correct equipage from Beacon Street, and -she always found herself drawing a long breath of unconfessed relief -when it rolled away after one of Mrs. Van Duser's infrequent visits. - -When presently Mrs. Van Duser, large, bland and encased in broadcloth -and sables, entered, she bestowed a gracious kiss upon Elizabeth's -cheek, and seated herself in a straight-backed chair with the effect of -a magistrate about to administer justice. - -"I trust you received the little brochure I mailed you last week," was -her initial remark, accompanied by a searching glance at Elizabeth's -agitated face. "I refer to 'Anthropological investigations on one -thousand children, white and coloured.' I looked it over most carefully -and marked the passages I deemed particularly helpful and suggestive." - -"Thank you, Mrs. Van Duser," faltered Elizabeth, "I did get the book, -and I--was intending to write to you to-day to thank you for it." - -"Have you read it?" inquired Mrs. Van Duser pointedly. - -"I--looked it over, and--it appeared very----" - -Mrs. Van Duser's steadfast gaze appeared to demand the truth, the whole -truth and nothing but the truth. Elizabeth's eyes fell before it. "It -was very good of you to--to think of me," she said. - -"I think of you not infrequently," was the lady's gracious rejoinder, -"and more particularly of your children, who are, of course, distantly -related to myself. I cannot urge too strongly, or too often, the need of -a scientific study of infancy and childhood as causally related to the -proper functional development of your offspring." - -"I am sure it is most kind of you," murmured Elizabeth, striving to -kindle an appreciative glow. "But--I have so little time." - -"You have all the time there is, my dear Elizabeth," chanted Mrs. Van -Duser, in her justly celebrated platform tone; "and you should strive -above all things to distinguish what is significant and essential from -what is trivial and accidental." Her voice sank to a heart-searching -contralto, as she added, "I have observed that you have time to sew -trimming on your child's frock. What is trimming as compared with the -demands of the springing intellect?" - -Elizabeth blushed guiltily and murmured something unintelligible. - -"Did you study the passages marked in 'Nascent Stages and their -Significance,' which I sent you the week before?--particularly those on -'The feelings and their expression'?" asked Mrs. Van Duser, after a -weighty pause. - -Elizabeth drew a deep breath. "I--found it not altogether easy to -understand," she said guilefully. - -"For an untrained mind--no," agreed Mrs. Van Duser blandly. "I feared as -much, and I have come this morning because I wished to go over with you -somewhat exhaustively the points mentioned by the author, in order to -compare them with your own more practical experience. I am about to -present a paper before the Ontological Club on 'The Emotive States as -factors in the education of The Child,' which I feel sure should prove -invaluable to all thoughtful parents. I had intended," she added, with a -mordant emphasis on the past tense of the verb, "to dedicate the -brochure to you upon publication." - -At this point in the conversation, and before Elizabeth had time to -express her blended contrition, gratitude and appreciation, two -hurriedly slammed doors and the clatter of small feet in the passage -announced the return of the children from school. - -Mrs. Van Duser's severe expression relaxed perceptibly. "How very -fortunate," she observed. "I was hoping for an opportunity of studying -certain phenomena at first hand. You know, my dear, I so seldom see -children." - -Elizabeth's tender heart was touched by the unconscious wistfulness in -the older woman's eyes. But she sighed at sight of the gilt-edged -memorandum book in the hands of her guest. She was familiar with the -exhaustive methods employed by Mrs. Van Duser in the pursuit of -knowledge. - -"You will not, I hope, interrupt any normal procedure," that lady was -saying in a sprightly tone, calculated to restore the depressed spirits -of the younger matron to their usual level. "I should like--if I may--to -observe the children at their luncheon, since the sense stimuli -connected with the taking of food is exceedingly instructive as related -to the cosmic consciousness." - -"I shall be very happy to have you lunch with us," faltered Elizabeth, -her thoughts busying themselves with a futile review of the contents of -her larder. Then the door flew open and Carroll and Doris dashed in, -breathless and eager, to precipitate their small persons upon their -mother's lap. - -"I was a _nawful_ good girl in kindergarten, mother!" announced Doris, -dancing with impatience, "an' I didn't get run over, or anythin'. When -can I go to the store an' spend all my money, mother? _When?_ Can I go -_now_?" - -"Doris, dear; don't you see Mrs. Van Duser? and Carroll----" - -But the boy had already advanced politely, and was standing before the -magisterial presence with a funny little air of resignation to the -inevitable which forced a smile to his mother's serious lips. - -"Can you tell me, my boy, why you experience pleasure at the sight of -your mother?" demanded Mrs. Van Duser, gazing searchingly at the child -through her gold-mounted lorgnettes. - -"I--like my mother, better'n any body else," replied the boy, with a -worried pucker of his smooth forehead. - -"_Like?_" echoed his inquisitor, looking up from a hurriedly pencilled -note. "And what, pray, do you mean by 'like'?" - -"I mean I--love her, because she's the bestest person I know." - -"Is it because she gives you food when you are hungry that you love your -parent? Or can you give me another reason?" continued Mrs. Van Duser, -ignoring the comprehensive statement advanced by the boy. - -Carroll glanced doubtfully after his mother, as she hastily withdrew to -look after the luncheon table. - -"I--don't know," he stammered. "I guess I like her when I'm hungry just -the same." - -"C., aged eight years, unable to enumerate reasons for fondness of -parent," wrote Mrs. Van Duser, with every appearance of satisfaction. -"The reasoning faculties apparently dormant at this age." - -"What are you most afraid of?" was her next question, accompanied by an -ingratiating smile, calculated to disarm youthful timidity. - -At this moment Richard, who had been peacefully asleep on the sofa, -awoke, and becoming slowly aware of the majestic presence at his side, -set up a doleful cry. - -Whereupon Mrs. Van Duser noted neatly that "an unexpected visual -impression evidently caused anxiety, without any assignable reason, in -the normal infant R." - -And when the normal infant scrambled down from the couch and retreated -kitchenward under the careful supervision of his older brother, she -observed further that "the dawning of the paternal instinct of -protection was observable in the child C." - - - - -VI - - -The conduct of the children at the luncheon table was marked by such -unexampled propriety of manner that Mrs. Van Duser was visibly -disappointed. She could hardly have been expected to know that Elizabeth -had resorted to shameless bribery in advance of the meal with a shining -coin in each small pocket, "to be spent exactly as you choose," and that -Richard was taking his food in the kitchen under the lax supervision of -the Norwegian maid. Still the occasion was not wholly barren of material -for a trained psychologist, as Mrs. Van Duser was pleased to term -herself. - -"The psychophysical processes," she observed learnedly, "should be -closely observed by the wise guardian, in order to properly graft -desired complications on native reactions." - -"I am afraid I do not altogether understand," murmured Elizabeth, -secretly grateful that her guest's preoccupation of mind rendered her -oblivious to the blunders of Celia, as she plodded heavily about the -table. "But I should like to ask you, Mrs. Van Duser, if you approve -of--whipping children?" - -Mrs. Van Duser dropped her pencil and focussed her piercing regard upon -the wife of her distant relative. - -"Decidedly not, my dear Elizabeth," she enunciated in her deepest -contralto. "Corporal punishment brutalises the child by implying that a -rational being is, or may be, on the level of the animal. It can be only -too evident that if one treats a child like an animal, it will behave -like an animal. I will send you an excellent pamphlet on the subject, -which you will do well to study. In the meantime you should -remember----" - -Mrs. Van Duser stopped short, raised her lorgnette and stared hard at -Doris. That young person had suddenly left her chair and was whispering -in her mother's ear, in the peculiar, sibilant whisper of an eager -child. - -"I'm through of my dinner, mother," was wafted distinctly to the -attentive ears of the guest. "An' I want to go an' buy daddy's 'fumery -this minute. You said I might, mother; you said I might.--Yes; but -_when_ is she going home, mother? _when?_" - -Far from evincing displeasure the great lady displayed the sincerest -gratification. "A most interesting example of ideation," she observed. -"My dear Elizabeth, please explain the child's emotions, if you are -aware of them. I fail to observe anger or dislike, or even--as might -well be expected--awe. Why do you wish me to go home?" she inquired -directly of Doris, who had retreated behind her mother's chair in -pouting dismay. - -Elizabeth experienced a hysterical desire to laugh; but she instantly -repressed it. "You should explain to Mrs. Van Duser, Doris, that you -spilled father's bay-rum this morning, and that mother said you must buy -him a fresh bottle with your own money," she said soberly. - -"I want to go _now_," whispered the child. "You said I might, mother; -you _promised_!" - -"Excellent!" exclaimed Mrs. Van Duser, writing rapidly in her book. "You -really ought, my dear Elizabeth, to preserve a careful memoranda of -these interesting mental movements of your offspring," she observed -convincingly. "Every properly constructed parent should endeavour to so -assist science. However crudely and unscientifically expressed, such -records would prove of incalculable value to the student." - -She turned to Doris with a complete change of manner. It was no longer -the ontological Mrs. Van Duser, but the great lady from Beacon Street -who spoke. "You have been very rude indeed, my child," she said sternly; -"and little girls should never be rude; but I will take you with me in -the carriage to purchase the toilet article referred to, and send you -home afterwards, if your mother will permit." - -As Elizabeth watched the flushed and triumphant Doris, departing in -state in the Van Duser carriage, the jingling contents of her bank in -her small pocket, she was conscious of a bewildering sense of failure. -She had sincerely tried to impress a lesson of obedience and a respect -for the rights of others upon the mind of her child, and, lo! the -culprit was enjoying a long-wished-for treat! - -The arrival of Miss Evelyn Tripp, in a hansom cab with a small -much-belabelled trunk on top, successfully diverted her mind from this -and other ethical problems. Miss Tripp's recent misfortunes had as yet -left no traces on her slight, elegant personality. She entered quite in -her old fashion, amid a subdued rustle of soft silken garments, a -flutter of plumes and a gracious odour of violets. - -"My dear!" she exclaimed, clasping and kissing Elizabeth, quite in the -latest mode. "How well you are looking! Indeed, you are younger and far, -far prettier than the day you were married! How vividly I remember that -day, and I am sure you do! How I did work to have everything pass off as -it should, and so many persons have told me since that it was really the -sweetest wedding they ever saw! It hardly seems possible that it was so -long ago. What! You don't tell me that great boy is Carroll! Come here -and let Aunty Evelyn kiss you, dear. And Doris? She was such a dear, -tiny thing when I saw her last. Oh, that is the baby; you say! No; -Elizabeth--not that great child! Fancy! I declare I feel like a -Methuselah when I look at my friend's children. I hate to grow -old--really old; don't you know." - -Miss Tripp paused to remove her plumed hat, while Elizabeth hastened to -assure her friend that she really hadn't changed in the least. This was -quite true, since Miss Tripp was of that somewhat thin and colourless -type of American womanhood upon which the passing years appear to leave -little trace. - -"Oh, my dear!" sighed Miss Tripp, "I am changed; everything has changed -with me, I assure you. Mother and I are obliged to live off air, exactly -like wee little church mice. And I am simply worn to a fringe trying to -economise and manage. I never was extravagant; you know that, dear, but -now----. Well; I don't know what will become of us unless something -happens." - -"Something will happen, dear," said Elizabeth, more than ever -warm-heartedly determined to make her friend as happy as herself. "Now -I'm going to leave you to lie down and rest a little before dinner," she -added guilefully, as she bethought herself of the various culinary -operations already in progress under the unthinking control of Celia. "A -friend of Sam's--a Mr. Hickey, chances to be dining here to-night; I -hope you won't mind, dear. It--just happened so." - -Miss Tripp turned to gaze searchingly at her friend. "You can't mean -George Hickey--a civil engineer?" she asked. - -"Why, yes; do you know him?" - -"My dear; it's the oddest thing; but lately I seem to meet that man -wherever I go. He is a friend of the Gerald Doolittles in -Dorchester--you know who I mean--and spends a Sunday there occasionally; -and when I was visiting Leticia Marston last fall, lo and behold! Mr. -Hickey turned up there for the week end! I used to know him years ago -when we were both children." - -"Sam is associated with Mr. Hickey in a professional way," observed -Elizabeth, with a careful indifference of manner. "He dines with us once -in a while." She paused to listen, with her head on one side, while a -look of alarm stole over her attentive face. - -"What's the matter, dear?" inquired the unaccustomed Miss Tripp. "Do you -hear anything?" - -"No, Evelyn; I don't, and the silence is suspicious. I think I'll run -down stairs and see what the boys are doing. Try and rest, dear, till I -call you." And Elizabeth accomplished a hasty exit by way of the back -stairs and the kitchen, where she was in time to frustrate the -intelligent Celia as she was about putting the French peas over to boil -an hour before dinner time. From thence she sought the sitting-room, -where she had left her two sons amicably engaged in constructing a tall -and wobbly tower out of building blocks. Carroll had vanished, and her -amazed and indignant eyes lighted upon the person of her youngest son -kneeling in a chair before the forbidden aquarium, over which he leaned -in a state of rapturous oblivion of past experiences, his plump hands -buried in the sand at the bottom of the tank, while the alarmed gold -fish flashed in and out between the dripping sleeves of his -freshly-ironed blouse. - -"Richard Brewster!" she cried. Then wrath and a disheartening sense of -the futility of unassisted moral suasion quite swept her off her feet. -She seized the child and laying him across her lap in time-honoured -fashion, handed down from a remote ancestry, spanked him with a speed -and thoroughness not to be surpassed by Grandmother Carroll in her most -energetic mood. - - - - -VII - - -Elizabeth was fluttering anxiously about the table in her small -dining-room when her husband entered in his usual breezy fashion and -laid a bunch of fragrant carnations before her. - -"A finishing touch for your table, Betty," he said; and added with -lover-like enthusiasm, "My! how pretty you're looking to-night!" - -"I shouldn't think I'd look pretty after the day I've put in," she told -him as she arranged the flowers in water. "Sam, Mrs. Van Duser was here -to luncheon." - -"No?" - -"She came to ask me if I had read 'Anthropological Investigations on one -thousand children, white and colored,' and I hadn't even looked at it." - -"So you flatly flunked the exam; poor Betty!" - -"Not exactly, Sam; I--told her I didn't quite--understand the subject." - -"Ah, Machiavellian Betty! Did she tumble?" - -"Oh, Sam! what a way to speak of Mrs. Van Duser. I was the one to -tumble, as you call it. She graciously picked me up. Of course Doris was -naughty, and Celia spilled cocoa on the table-cloth and passed -everything on the wrong side. Then after Mrs. Van Duser went, Evelyn -came.--She's up-stairs now, dressing for dinner. And--after that--I -don't know what you'll think of me, Sam; but I--was nervous or something -I think, and I--whipped Richard." - -"You--what?" - -"After all I've said about Marian Stanford, too! I just hate myself for -doing it. But I had dressed that child twice all clean, and when I came -down to see about dinner and found him playing in the aquarium _again_, -Sam, dripping water all over the floor, and with his clothes soaked to -the skin, I just seemed to lose all control of myself. I snatched the -poor darling up and--and--spanked him as hard as I could. The strange -part of it is that I--seemed to enjoy doing it." - -Her doleful air of abject contrition was too much for Sam. He roared -with irrepressible laughter. "Forgive me, Betty," he entreated; "but -really, you know----" - -"I understand now exactly why people whip their children," went on -Elizabeth, descending into abysmal depths of humility and grovelling -there with visible satisfaction. "I gave way to uncontrollable rage just -because I knew I must take the trouble to dress the poor little darling -again, and I couldn't think for the minute what flannels to put on him. -So I revenged myself, in just a common, spiteful, vulgar way. No, Sam; -you needn't try to make light of what I did. Nothing can excuse it!" - -At that instant the misused infant, dragging a train of iron cars behind -him, hove into view. - -"Chu-chu-chu!" he droned. "Det out the way! Here tomes the 'spress -train!" His cherubic countenance was serene and rosy; he beamed -impartially upon his parents as he scuffed across the floor. - -"Well," said his father, endeavouring (unsuccessfully) to view the -matter in a serious light, "I fail to observe any signs of violent abuse -or tokens of abject fear about the young person; I guess you didn't----" - -"Hush, Sam! I hope he's forgotten it--the darling! Do you love mother, -baby?" - -"I'm a dreat big engine-man!" vociferated the infant, submitting -cheerfully to his mother's kisses, "an' I love 'oo more'n a sousand -million! Chu-chu! Toot-toot! Ding-dong!" - -"How about the other young Brewsters?" inquired their father, with a -twinkle of mock solicitude in his blue eyes. "Have they been pursuing -the undeviating paths of rectitude, or have you--er--been moved to----" - -"Sam, if you make fun of me about--what I did to Richard, I----" her -voice broke, and she hid her eyes on his shoulder. "I thought," she -said, "that it was my duty to tell you." - -"I'm not making fun of you, little woman. Perish the thought!" and he -kissed her convincingly. "I don't know what I should--or shouldn't -do--if I had to cope with the young miscreants single-handed all day. -Where is Doris, by the way?" - -She told him about the broken bay-rum bottle, and described the scene at -the luncheon table. "I was so ashamed," she concluded; "but what could I -do?" - -"Let me laugh again, Betty!" he begged. "That's too much, you know. -Fancy our small Doris having the--er--audacity to stand up and audibly -hint that Mrs. J. Mortimer Van Duser's room would be more acceptable -than her company. I wish I'd been there to see and hear." - -"Mrs. Van Duser said that it was a most interesting example of -ideation--whatever that is," said his Elizabeth rather proudly. "She's -writing a paper for the Ontological Club, and she's going to put all -three of the children in." - -"As what--Concrete examples of the genus _enfant terrible_?" he inquired -cautiously. - -Elizabeth was surveying her table with satisfied eyes. She did not -appear to have heard his question. - -"It may be hard work to take care of all that silver and glass we had -for wedding presents, Sam," she said thoughtfully; "but on occasions it -is useful." - -"Yes; if the foreigner in the kitchen didn't too often turn our dancing -into mourning by smashing it." - -"I'm not going to let Celia wash one of these dishes," she told him -firmly. - -"Who is going to wash them?" he asked resignedly. - -"I am--after Mr. Hickey's gone and Evelyn's in bed." - -"'That means me,'" he quoted irreverently. "I'm a thoroughly -house-broken husband, and you can depend upon me, Betty, every shot." - -She flashed him a grateful smile. "Of course I know that, Sam," was all -she said; but her eyes were eloquent of love and happy trust. "What do -you think, Sam," she added irrelevantly; "Evelyn has known Mr. Hickey a -long time already." - -"So much the better for Hickey!" - -"Yes; that's what I thought. You see, Sam, if--if anything should -happen, it wouldn't be all our doing; and so in a way, Sam, I actually -felt relieved when Evelyn said that she had met Mr. Hickey before. It is -really an awful responsibility." - -"What? to ask Hickey to dinner? He didn't seem to mind it." - -"Don't be flippant, Sam," she said with dignity. "You know perfectly -well what I mean. If Mr. Hickey _should_ fall in love with Evelyn--and I -will say that she never looked more attractive than she does now--and -if she should----" - -He interrupted her with a hasty kiss. "I've got to go up and dress," he -reminded her. "Don't you worry, Betty; if he should, and she should, -then they both would; and all you and I would be required to do would be -to buy them a clock that wouldn't go, or a dozen _pâté de foies gras_ -implements--only let it be something useful. By the way, I see you've -set the table for the children. Do you think that is--er--exactly the -part of wisdom?" - -"No, Sam; I do not. But I had to make it up to Richard someway, so I -promised to let him have dinner with us, and Evelyn quite insisted upon -the others. She thinks Carroll simply perfect, and she says Doris is the -most fascinating child she ever saw." - -"Well," he acquiesced, "they're the biggest and best half of the -Brewster family, when you come to think of it, and Hickey always wants -to see them when he comes." - -Half an hour later Elizabeth was putting the finishing touches to her -toilet, while the children, immaculate and shining, hovered admiringly -about the dressing-table. - -"Now remember, Carroll, you mustn't get to quarrelling with Doris about -anything." - -"I won't, mother; I promise." - -"We're going to have ice-cream for dessert, and----" - -"Oh-e-e!" in a rapturous chorus from all the children. - -"I don't want you to make that noise when Celia brings it in to the -table; that's why I'm telling you beforehand." - -Richard was pirouetting heavily on his little stubbed shoes. "Oh-e-e!" -he repeated, "ice-cweam!" - -"Now, do you think you can remember?" asked Elizabeth, clasping a string -of gold beads about her pretty throat, and turning to meet the three -pairs of upturned eyes. "I want Aunty Evelyn to think you've improved a -great deal since the last time she was here. You weren't very good that -time." - -Carroll's clear gaze met his mother's reprovingly. "Do you want Aunty -Evelyn to think we've improved, if we haven't?" he asked. "Because we're -really getting badder most every day." - -"You're badder, you mean," said Doris, with a superior and pitying -smile; "I'm as good 's I can be. Mrs. Van Duser said I was a very -inter-est-in' 'zample of a child. So there!" - -Carroll shook his head. "I'm not going to quarrel with you, Doris, -'cause I promised mother I wouldn't," he said with dignity; "but we are -badder--'specially you; you didn't mind mother three times to-day." - -"I am not badder." - -"I said I wouldn't quarrel, Doris; but you are--very much badder." - -"Hush, children!" exclaimed Elizabeth, hurriedly intervening between the -militant pair. "Come right down stairs, and don't talk to each other at -all unless you can be pleasant and polite." - -Miss Evelyn Tripp presently appeared in a wonderful toilet, all lace and -twinkling jets. She exclaimed over Carroll's marvellous gain in inches, -and Doris' brilliant colour, and kissed and cooed over Richard. - -"They're certainly the dearest children in the world," she said. "I've -been simply wild to see them all these months, and you, too, Betty dear! -I've so much to tell you!" - -She twined her arm caressingly about Doris, and smiled brilliantly down -at the little girl, who gazed with round appreciative eyes at the -visitor's gown and at the jewels which sparkled on her small white -hands. - -"Both of my front teeth are all wiggly," whispered the child, feeling -that something out of the ordinary was demanded of her in a social way. -"I can wiggle them with my tongue." - -"Can you, darling? How remarkable! Never mind; you'll soon have some -nice new ones that won't wiggle." - -Doris giggled rapturously. "We're going to have ice-cream for dinner," -was her next confidence. "But I'm not going to act s'prised when Celia -brings it in. We've all promised mother we won't, even if it's pink. I -hope it'll be pink; don't you?" - -"Doris," warned her mother, "you're talking too much." - -"Oh, do let the dear little soul say anything she likes to me, Betty!" -protested Miss Tripp. "If you knew how I enjoyed it!" - -Doris nestled closer to the visitor, eyeing her mother with the -naughtily demure expression of a kitten stealing cream. "I was going to -tell you something funny," she said, "but I can't think what it was. I -guess I'll remember when we're eating dinner." - -"The artless prattle of a child is so refreshing, you know," continued -Miss Tripp, "after all the empty conventionalities of society. I simply -love to hear the little darlings--especially yours, dear Betty. You are -bringing them up so beautifully!" - - - - -VIII - - -When Mr. George Hickey rang the bell at the door of the modest Brewster -residence that night, it was with the pleasant anticipation of a simple, -but well-cooked dinner, of the sort a bachelor, condemned by his -solitary estate to prolonged residence in that semi-public caravansary -known as the American boarding-house, seldom enjoys. - -He was very far indeed from a knowledge of the fact that he was in the -oft-quoted position of the man in a boat on the hither side of the great -rapids of Niagara. Mr. Hickey had allowed himself to be drawn into -feeling a somewhat uncommon interest in Miss Evelyn Tripp, it is true; -but he attributed this feeling wholly to the fact that he had known Miss -Tripp when he was a tall, awkward boy of twenty and she was a rosy, -fascinating miss of sixteen. She had laughed at him slily in those days, -and he had resented her mirth with all the secret and hence futile -agony which marks the intercourse of the awkward youth with the -self-possessed maid. But the scar which Evelyn's youthful laughter had -left in his bosom had remained unwontedly tender--as an old wound -sometimes will; and when after the lapse of years they had met once more -Mr. Hickey found the lady so surprisingly sweet, so gentle, so -altogether tactful and sympathetic, that he could hardly escape a -pleasant and soothing sense of gratitude. They spoke of old times--very -old times they were; the mere mention of which brought a delicate blush -to Miss Tripp's cheek. And the auroral light of youth, which never -appears so roseate as when it shines upon the cold peaks of middle life, -irradiated their common past and appeared to linger fascinatingly over -Miss Tripp's somewhat faded person. - -It had not, however, occurred to Mr. Hickey that the foregoing had any -bearing whatever upon his own immediate future, nor upon the immediate -future of Miss Evelyn Tripp. In a word, Mr. Hickey was very far from -contemplating matrimony when he entered the Brewster's cheerful little -parlour, bearing a box of bonbons for its mistress, and a jumping-jack -capable of singular and varied contortions, for the young Brewsters. - -Miss Tripp appeared very much surprised to meet Mr. Hickey again; she -gave him a beautiful little hand of welcome from the deep chair where -she was enthroned with Richard upon her knee ruthlessly crumpling the -skirt of one of her carefully cherished gowns. - -"I'm telling the children a fairy story," she said archly; "you mustn't -interrupt." - -"May I listen, if I'm a good boy?" asked Mr. Hickey, endeavouring to -assume a light and festive society air, which hardly comported with his -tall spare figure and the air of sober professionalism which he had -acquired during a somewhat stern and strenuous past. - -Carroll, who guarded Miss Tripp's chair on the right, exchanged puzzled -glances with Doris who occupied the left. The little girl giggled. - -"You aren't a boy," she said, addressing Mr. Hickey with a confidence -inspired by past acquaintanceship; "you're all grown up." - -"I like fairy stories, anyway," he asserted untruthfully; "and I want -to hear the one Miss Tripp is telling. You'll let me; won't you, Doris?" - -"I'll let you, if Aunty Evelyn'll let you; but I guess she won't." - -Miss Tripp laughed musically. "What a quaint little dear it is," she -murmured, kissing the child's pink cheek. "Why shouldn't Aunty Evelyn -let Mr. Hickey hear the story if he wants to, dear?" - -"He's too old," said Doris convincingly. "He wouldn't care about -Cinderella losing off her glass slipper." - -"Oh-e-e, Doris Brewster!" exclaimed Carroll, swelling with the superior -enlightenment of his three years of seniority. "That's very rude indeed! -Mr. Hickey doesn't look so very old. He's got quite a lot of hair left -on the sides of his head, and----" - -"Thanks, my boy," interrupted Mr. Hickey hastily. "But don't entirely -floor me by enumerating all my youthful charms. How about that slipper -of Cinderella's, Miss Tripp; there's a prince in that story, isn't -there? with--er--plenty of hair on top of his head?" - -Miss Tripp, who was actually blushing pink, quite in her old girlish -fashion, exchanged mirthful glances with the engineer. - -"I was just coming to the prince," she said. "He was--oh, such a -beautiful prince, all dressed in pale blue, embroidered with pearls and -silver, and on his breast a great flashing diamond star. And when he saw -Cinderella, standing all by herself, in her beautiful gauzy -ball-dress----" - -"An' her glass slippers!" gurgled Doris rapturously. - -"An' her gwass sippers!" echoed Richard, hugging the story-teller in a -sudden spasm of affection. - -"Yes, her glass slippers, of course, darlings," cooed Miss Tripp; "but -the prince did not notice the slippers, he was so agitated by the sight -of her lovely face and her shining golden hair." - -Mr. Hickey caught himself gazing dreamily at Miss Tripp's elaborately -arranged coiffure. The yellow gas light fell becomingly upon the -abundant light brown waves and coils, touching them into a shimmering -gold which he did not remember to have noticed before. How well she was -telling the story, too; and how fond of her the Brewster children -appeared to be. He recalled mistily that someone had said, or -written--perhaps it was one of those old author chaps--that it was -impossible to deceive a child. Mr. Hickey was convinced that this must -be true. And insensibly he fell to thinking how pleasant it would be if -this were his own fire-side, and if the lady in the deep wicker chair -were----. - -A sound of small hand-clapping brought him out of this blissful revery -with a start. "I like that part best of all," Carroll was saying; "an' -if I'd been that prince I'd 'av taken my big, shining sword and cut off -the heads of those bad, wicked sisters! Yes; I would; I'd like to do -it!" And the sanguinary small boy swaggered up and down, his shoulders -squared and his eyes shining. - -"Oh, my dear!" protested Miss Tripp mildly. "You wouldn't be so unkind; -I'm sure you wouldn't." - -"I'd take all their pretty dresses away an' wear 'em myself," shrilled -Doris excitedly. "An' I'd--pinch 'em; I'd----" - -"Let me tell you what dear, sweet Cinderella did," interrupted Miss -Tripp, tactfully seizing the opportunity to impress a moral lesson. -"She forgave her unkind step-mother and her two rude, spiteful sisters, -and gave them each a castle and many, many lovely gowns and jewels; and -after that they loved Cinderella dearly--they couldn't help it. And all -of them were good and happy for ever afterward." - -The children stared in round-eyed displeasures at this ethical but -entirely tame denouement. - -"That isn't in my story-book," said Carroll positively. "Cinderella -married the Prince, an' the fairy god-mother turned the bad sisters into -rats, an' made 'em draw her carriage for ever an' ever." - -"Why, Carroll Brewster! I guess you made that up!" cried Doris. "The -fairy god-mother didn't turn the bad sisters into anything; she jus' -waved her wand an' turned Cinderella's ol' ragged clo'es into a lovely -spangled weddin' dress, an' then----" - -"She turned 'em into rats," repeated Carroll doggedly. "An' I'm glad she -did it." - -"She did not turn 'em into rats!" - -"She did!" - -"She didn't!" - -At this crucial moment entered Elizabeth, flushed and bright-eyed from -a final encounter with the elemental forces in the kitchen. "Won't you -all come out to dinner," she said prettily; "I'm sure you must have -concluded that dining was among the lost arts by this time." - -"Not in this house," said Mr. Hickey gallantly. "This is one of the -few--the very few places where one has the inestimable privilege of -really dining. The balance of the time I merely take food from a strict -sense of duty." - -"We're going to have ice-cream," whispered Carroll kindly. - -His father, who had caught the whisper, laughed outright. "He wants to -give you something to look forward to, George," he said, as he tried the -edge of his carving-knife. "If variety is the spice of life anticipation -might be said to be its sweetening--eh? Will you have your beef rare or -well-done, Miss Tripp?" - -"Well-done, if you please," murmured Miss Tripp, smiling happily as she -squeezed Doris' chubby hand under the table-cloth. - -The little girl's eyes were very bright as she said, "I like to have -you a-visitin', Aunty Evelyn." - -"Do you, dear? Well Aunty Evelyn is very, very happy to be here." - -"We were going to have rice-pudding for dessert if you hadn't come. I -don't like rice-pudding; do you, Aunty Evelyn?" - -"Doris--dear!" - -Her mother's voice held reproof and warning; but the child with the -specious sense of security inspired by the presence of strangers -displayed her dimples demurely. "I didn't know it was naughty not to -like rice-pudding," she said, in a small distinct voice. - -Mr. Hickey glanced thoughtfully across the table at Miss Tripp, who was -smiling down at the little girl encouragingly. "Most of us are naughty -when it comes to hankering after the unusual and the unattainable," he -observed didactically. "I eat my rice-pudding contentedly enough most -days of the year; but on the three hundred and sixty-fifth I----" - -"You pine for pink ice-cream; don't you?" smiled Miss Tripp; "but one -might tire of even the pinkest ice-cream, if it appeared too often. What -one really wants is--plain bread." She cast a barely perceptible glance -at Elizabeth, the laces at her throat quivering with the ghost of a -sigh. The next instant she was laughing at Richard whose curly head was -beginning to droop heavily over his food. - -"Poor little fellow," she murmured. "Do look, Elizabeth, he's almost -gone!" - -"Won't you carry him up-stairs for me, Sam?" Elizabeth begged her -husband. "I ought not to have kept him up for dinner.--You'll excuse us -just an instant; won't you?" - -It was a pretty picture; the tall, stalwart father lifting the child -rosy with sleep, and the little mother hovering anxiously near, like a -small brown bird. Mr. Hickey observed it solemnly; Miss Tripp smilingly; -then, for some reason unknown to both, their eyes met. - -"--Er--let me pass you the--bread, Miss Tripp," said Mr. Hickey, -short-sightedly choosing among the viands immediately within his reach. - -"Thank you, Mr. Hickey," said Evelyn, and again that faint, elusive sigh -shook the delicate laces at her throat. - - - - -IX - - -As Miss Tripp was putting the finishing touches to a careful toilet the -next morning she caught the sound of a whispered dispute in the hall; -then small knuckles were cautiously applied to the panel of her chamber -door. - -"Aunty Evelyn! Aunty Evelyn! are you waked up?" - -Miss Tripp had been brooding since daylight over the accumulated -problems which appeared to crowd her narrow horizon like so many -menacing thunder-caps; but she summoned a faint smile to her lips as she -opened the door. - -"Why, good-morning, dears!" she cried cheerfully at sight of the two -small figures in their gay dressing-gowns and scarlet slippers. - -"We want to hear a story, Aunty Evelyn," announced Doris, prancing -boldly in, each individual curl on her small head bobbing like coiled -wire. "We like stories." - -"Come here, pet, and let Aunty brush your curls." - -"No; I don't want my curls brushed; I want to hear a story about a -be-utiful princess going to seek her fortune." - -Miss Tripp suppressed a vague sigh. "I know a poor, forlorn princess who -is obliged to go out all alone into the cold world to seek her fortune," -she said. "And I'm very much afraid she won't find it." - -"Is she young and be-utiful?" asked Doris, with wide-eyed attention. -"An' has she got a spangled dress?" - -"Dot a spangled dwess?" cooed Richard, like a cheerful little echo. - -"No; she's forced to wear a plain black dress in her wanderings, and she -isn't beautiful at all. She's not very young either, and ugly lines are -beginning to creep about her eyes and across her forehead; and one day, -not long ago she found--what do you suppose?" - -"A bag of gold?" - -"A bag o' dold?" echoed Richard. - -"No, dear; this poor, forlorn little princess found three silver hairs -growing among the brown ones just over her ear." - -Miss Tripp's sweet, drawling voice trembled slightly as she went on with -her little fable. "The princess felt so badly that she shed bitter -tears when she saw the glitter of those three silver hairs, because she -knew that she could never, never catch up with youth any more." - -"What youth--the fairy prince?" Doris wanted to know. - -And Richard smiled seraphically as he trilled, "Oh, dood! It was 'e -pwince!" - -"No, darlings; there isn't any prince at all in this story. There was -one--once--away back in the beginning of it; but he--went away--to a far -country, and he--never came back." - -"Did the princess cry?" - -"Did her cwy?" - -"Yes; she cried till all the brightness went out of her pretty eyes. -Then she stopped crying and laughed instead, because--Oh; because crying -didn't help a bit." - -"You've been crying, Aunty Evelyn!" said Doris suddenly. "Why-e! your -eyes are all teary now!" - -"I've got a cold; I'm afraid," prevaricated Miss Tripp. - -"I don't like that story," objected Doris. "Unless----" and her eyes -brightened, "the prince came back. Let him come back, Aunty Evelyn; -please let him; it'll spoil the story if he doesn't." - -Miss Tripp drew a deep breath. "I--wish he might come back," she said; -"but I--I'm afraid he never will, dear; and the poor little princess -will have to go on alone till----" - -"Till what?" demanded Doris indignantly. "I c'n tell a better story 'an -that," she added. - -"Tell it, dear." - -"Well; the princess went out in her horrid ol' black clo'es an' -travelled an' travelled, _an' travelled_ till she was mos' tired out, -an' everywhere she went she asked 'where is my prince?' An' at first all -the people said, 'We don't know where any prince is.' But the princess -jus' made up her mind she _would_ find him; an'--an' bimeby she -did--jus' as easy! He was right there all the time; only he was -enchanted by an awful bad fairy so she couldn't see him, an' so----" - -Doris paused to draw breath, and Richard gravely took up the tale, -nodding the while like a gay little china mandarin. "He was 'chanted an' -she was 'chanted, an' they bof was 'chanted, an'----" - -"Be quiet, Buddy, an' let me tell," interrupted Doris. "She did find -him! Course she found him, an'--an' her horrid ol' clo'es was changed to -a lovely wedding dress, an'--an'--that's the end of it!" - -Miss Tripp laughed. She felt unreasonably cheered by this optimistic -finale to her sad little story--which had no ending. - -"That would be the beginning of a very cheerful story," she said. "Now -Aunty Evelyn must get some breakfast and start out into the cold world." - -"Oh! we want you to stay!" - -"I'm coming back, dears; yes, indeed; I'll be back this very evening, -and then I'll tell you the loveliest story in the world, all about a -little goose-girl." - -It was a very cold world indeed into which Miss Tripp fared forth that -winter morning. But Elizabeth's friendly protests were vain. - -"I really must go, dear," Evelyn told her with a firmness quite foreign -to her fashionable self. "You don't know--you can't guess how necessary -it is for me to find some way of earning money. Mother----" her voice -shook a little--"isn't at all well; she never was very strong, and our -losses have quite--Why, Elizabeth, you would hardly know mother; she's -so changed. She just sits by the window, and--looks out; I can't seem to -rouse her to--to do anything." - -Remembering the frail, artificial old lady, with her elaborate toilets -and her perpetual aura of rice-powder and sachet, Elizabeth thought this -exceedingly probable. "Was it so very bad, Evelyn?" she asked -hesitatingly. "You know you only told me----" - -"We lost nearly everything when the Back-Bay Security Company failed -last fall," said Evelyn quietly. "I--couldn't seem to believe it at -first. Of course we were never rich; but we had always lived very -comfortably--you know how pleasant it was in our little apartment, -Elizabeth, with our good Marie to do everything for us, and all our -friends." - -Miss Tripp touched her eyelids delicately with her little lace-edged -handkerchief. "I--mustn't cry," she said. "It makes one look so like a -fright, and I----. Elizabeth, do you suppose I could get a place -to--teach? I do love children so, and they always seem to like me." - -"What would you teach?" Elizabeth asked, anxiously sympathetic, yet -knowing a little more of the ways of the educational world than did Miss -Tripp. "You know, Evelyn,--at least I am told--that nearly every teacher -has to be a specialist now. You might study kindergartening," she added -more hopefully. - -Miss Tripp shook her head. "No; I couldn't do that. It would take too -long, and we should have plenty of time to--starve, I fancy, before----. -But what nonsense I'm talking! I must start out this minute; I have an -appointment at Whitcher's Teacher's Agency this morning. They told me -yesterday that a man--a school principal--was coming there to hire a -primary teacher. I'm sure I could do that; don't you think I could, -Elizabeth?--Just to teach the children how to read and write and do -little sums on their slates. I shall say I can anyway." - -She waved her hand to her friend as she went bravely away down the snowy -street, and Elizabeth turned back to her children, feeling a new and -unfamiliar sense of gratitude for the warm home nest, with its three -turbulent birdlings. - -It was Saturday, and the children could not be dispatched to -kindergarten as on other mornings of the week. It was also baking-day, -and bread and rolls were in slow process of rising to their appointed -size in the chilly kitchen. Elizabeth was frugally looking over the -contents of her larder with a view to a "picked-up" luncheon, when she -heard a small yet distinct knock on the back door. - -She opened it upon Robbie Stanford, dancing with impatience on the snowy -step. - -"Good-morning, Mrs. Brewster," he began with an ingratiating smile, -"I've come over to play with Carroll an' Doris. I c'n stay two hours 'n' -maybe three, 'nless my mother comes from down-town before that." - -"Oh; isn't your mother at home?" asked Elizabeth, with a dubious glance -at the red-cheeked, black-eyed young person, who was already edging -smilingly toward the closed door of the dining-room. She had entertained -Master Stanford before in the absence of his parents and had learned to -dread the occasions of his visits. - -"No, ma'am," said Robbie politely. "My mother's gone to have her teeth -fixed. The' was a teeny hole in one of 'em, an' the hole ached. Did you -ever have holes in your teeth, Mrs. Brewster?" - -"Why, yes; I suppose I have," assented Elizabeth doubtfully. "Now, -Robbie; I want you to promise me that you will be a good boy this -morning, and not get into any mischief; I'm going to be very, very busy, -and----" - -"I'll be good," responded the young person cheerfully. "I'll be gooder -'an anything. Where's Carroll?" - -"He's in the other room; but--wait a minute, dear. You remember the last -time you played with Carroll you----" - -"Yes, 'm; I 'member. We made an ocean in the bath-room, an' you -said----" - -"Doris took a bad cold from getting so wet, and Richard almost had the -croup." - -"I won't do it again," promised the visitor, digging his toes rather -shamefacedly under a loosened edge of the linoleum. "I'll jus' look at -pictures, 'n'--'n' things like that." - -"Very well; I'll take you in where the children are playing. Carroll -will be glad to see you; I'm sure," she added, feeling that she had -been rather ungracious to her friend's child. - -The three young Brewsters greeted their neighbour with a whoop of joy. -Master Stanford was blessed with a pleasantly inventive turn of mind, -and one could generally depend upon a break in the monotony of the home -circle when he appeared. - -"What'll we do?" inquired Doris, prancing gaily around the visitor, who -gazed about him at the assembled Brewster toys with a somewhat ennuied -expression on his small, serious countenance. - -"Aw--I don't know; play with dolls, I guess. I promised I'd be good." - -"We might play Indian," suggested Carroll hopefully. "Mother lets us -take the couch-cover for a tent." - -The visitor considered this proposition in Napoleonic silence. "Have -your dolls got real hair?" he inquired darkly of Doris. - -"Uh-huh; every one of 'em 's got real hair. My new doll 'at I got -Christmas 's got lovely long curls. I don't play with her ev'ry day, -'cause mother's 'fraid I'll break her." - -"Go an' get her; get all yer dolls." - -"Oh--we don't want t' play with dolls," objected Carroll. "Let's build -a depot an' have trains a-smashin' int' each other." - -"Nope; we'll play Indian," the visitor said firmly. "I'll show you how." - -Under his able generalship the sitting-room was presently transformed -into the semblance of a rolling prairie, with a settler's wagon in the -midst of the landscape in which travelled Richard as husband and father, -driving a span of wicker chairs, while Doris, smothering a fine family -of long-haired dolls, sat behind. - -Elizabeth who paused to glance in at this stage of the proceedings was -gratified by a sight of the four happy, earnest little faces, and the -apparent innocuousness of the proceedings. - -"We're havin' lots of fun, mother; we're playin' wagon!" Doris -explained. "These are all my children; an' we're goin' west to live." - -"Det-ap!" vociferated Richard, pulling manfully at the red lines -decorated with bells, with which he restrained his restive steeds. - -"Whoa!" and he applied the gad with spirit. "Dey's doin' fast, mudzer," -he shouted. - -"That's a nice play!" chanted Elizabeth; "only be careful of the whip, -dear." Then she hurried up-stairs intent upon restoring immaculate order -to the upper part of her house before luncheon. - - - - -X - - -The better part of an hour had passed before she remembered the children -again; then a sound of terrific tumult from below gave wings to her -feet. - -The scene which met her astonished eyes was one of blood and carnage. -The two boys, their faces horribly streaked with scarlet and yellow, -their hair stuck full of feathers, had evidently fallen upon the -peaceful settlers in their progress across the western plains, and were -engaged in plunder and rapine; Richard, bound hand and foot with his -scarlet lines, howled with abject terror, while Doris, wild-eyed and -furious, fought for the protection of her family of dolls. - -"You shan't touch my best doll; you horrid boy!" she shrieked. "I'll -tell my--mother! I'll tell--my----" - -"Give 'er here! I'm a big Injun an' I'm goin' to scalp every one of your -children!" yelled Robbie Stanford. "Here you, Carroll! what you doin'? -There's another kid a-hidin' under the chair--I mean the wagon! She'll -scalp easy!" - -"Why, children! What are you doing? Carroll, Robert! Stop this instant!" - -"We're playing Indian!" panted Carroll, pausing to eye his mother -disgustedly through his war-paint. "Doris oughtn't to have yelled so, -an' Buddy's nothin' but a bawl-baby. We didn't hurt him a single bit." - -"Jus' see what they did to my dolls!" wailed Doris. "Tore the hair off -of ev'ry one of 'em!" - -"Why, boys! I don't see what you were thinking of to spoil Doris' pretty -dolls!" - -"We was only scalpin' her children," volunteered the instigator of the -crime, with a cheerful grin. "I c'n stick on the hair again, jus' as -easy as anythin', if you'll give me the glue. I scalped our baby's doll -an' my mother she stuck the hair on again with glue. 'Tain't hard to -stick it on; an' we only broke one. We wouldn't 'ave done that, if -Doris----" - -"What is that stuff on your faces?" demanded Elizabeth sternly, as she -collected the parti-coloured scalps from among the débris on the floor. - -"It's only war-paint, mother," explained Carroll. "Indians always put it -on their faces; don't you remember the Indians in my Indian book? We -made it out of jam an' egg. Celia gave it to us; we got the feathers out -the duster." - -Elizabeth heaved a great sigh. "Come, and I'll wash your faces," she -said; "then I think perhaps Robbie had better----" - -"No, ma'am;" said Master Stanford firmly; "it isn't two hours yet. I c'n -stay till the whistles blow, an' if you invite me I guess I c'n stay to -lunch." - -"I'm not going to invite you," slipped off Elizabeth's exasperated -tongue. "I want you to go straight home, as soon as I've washed you and -made you look respectable." - -The youngster's under lip trembled. Two big tears welled up in his black -eyes. "I--didn't--mean to--be--naughty!" he quavered. "I don't care if -you--whip--me; but I don't want--t' go home. Annie's--cross. She -slapped--me--twice this morning! She says I'm the plague o' her life." - -Annie was the Stanford's cook and possessed of unlimited authority -which she frequently abused, Elizabeth knew. "Where is Livingstone?" she -asked in a milder voice, as she removed the traces of her best raspberry -jam from the visitor's round face. - -"Mother took baby with her; she's going to leave him at gran'ma's house -till she comes home. She said I couldn't go, 'cause gran'ma--she's--kind -of nervous when I'm there." - -"Well, dear; you can stay and have lunch with the children; only----" - -"Are you goin' to whip me? I shan't cry if you do." - -"My mother doesn't whip anybody," said Carroll superbly; "she's too kind -an' good!" - -"So's my mother kind an' good! I double dare you to say she isn't!" - -"Come, children; you mustn't get to quarrelling. Of course your dear -mother is kind and good, Robbie. And you ought to try to be so kind and -good and obedient that she won't ever feel that you ought to be -whipped." - -Master Stanford's black eyes opened very wide at this difficult -proposition. "Aw--I don't know 'bout that," he said diffidently. "I -guess my mother'd jus' 's soon I'd be bad some o' the time. She says -she's glad I ain't a milk an' water child like Carroll. An' my papa, he -says----" - -"You may both sit right down on this sofa," interrupted Elizabeth -hastily, "and look at these two books till I call you to luncheon. If -you get up once, Robbie, I shall be obliged to send you home to Annie." - -"The idea of Marian saying such a thing about my Carroll," she thought -unforgivingly, as she set forth bananas and small sweet crackers for the -children's dessert. "A milk and water child, indeed; but of course, with -a boy like Robbie to deal with, she has to say something. I'm sorry for -those two children of hers." - -Robbie Stanford stayed till his mother came after him at four o'clock, -and Elizabeth laying aside all other occupations supervised her small -kindergarten with all the tried patience and kindness of which she was -mistress. - -Mrs. Stanford was voluble with apologies as she invested her son with -his coat and mittens. "I told Annie to have Robbie ask Carroll over for -luncheon," she said, "and I left the play-room all ready for them. I -assure you, Elizabeth, I had no notion of inflicting my child upon -you--when you have company, too; I'm really ashamed of Robbie." - -"Yes, mother," interrupted that young person, "but Annie got mad jus' -'cause I made little round holes in one o' her ol' pies with my finger. -I only wanted to see the juice come out. 'N'--'n she slapped me, 'n' -tol' me to get out o' her way, or she'd pack her clo'es an' leave. So -I----" - -Mrs. Stanford's pretty young face flushed with mortification. "I can see -that you are thinking me very careless to leave Robbie with a -bad-tempered servant," she said, "but Annie is usually so good with the -children, and I had to go. I had really neglected my teeth till one of -them ached." - -"It was no trouble," dissembled Elizabeth mildly, "and really I should -much prefer to have Robbie here than to have Carroll at your house when -you are away. I should tremble for the results to your property. Of -course my Carroll alone is almost as innocuous as milk and water, but -with Robert to bring out his stronger qualities one can never safely -predict what will happen." - -Mrs. Stanford looked up in sudden consternation, and meeting Elizabeth's -smiling glance she laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "Well," she said, -"I'm glad, Betty, if you aren't actually worn out mothering my -black-eyed lamb. Another time I'll cope with all three of yours, if -you'll let me." Then she stooped and kissed Elizabeth in her usual -half-mocking way. "Thank you, little neighbour," she murmured; "you make -me ashamed of myself, whenever I see you. You are so much better than -I." - -When Evelyn Tripp returned that afternoon in the gloom of the gathering -twilight she stood for a few minutes in the glow of Elizabeth's cheerful -fireside, slowly drawing off her gloves. She appeared pallid and worn in -the half light, and Elizabeth caught herself wondering if she had -lunched. - -"Yes, dear," Miss Tripp informed her absent-mindedly; "I had a cup of -tea--I think it was tea--and a roll. I wasn't hungry after my interview -with the South Popham school principal." - -"Oh, then you saw him? Did you--Was he----" - -Evelyn laughed a little drearily. "No, dear," she sighed, shaking her -head; "nothing came of it. I suppose I ought not to have expected it. -Professor Meeker wanted someone with experience, and--and--a younger -person, he said. I didn't realise that I looked really old, Betty. I -thought----" - -"You don't look old, Evelyn," denied Elizabeth warm-heartedly. "What was -the man thinking of?" - -"Apparently of a red-cheeked, nursery-maid sort of a person who had -taught in the public schools. I saw him afterwards holding forth on the -needs of the Popham Institute to a young woman with a high pompadour and -wearing a red shirt-waist, a string of blue beads and a large glittering -watch-chain--the kind with a slide. I think she must have been what he -was looking for. Anyway the Whitcher people told me he had engaged her." - -Elizabeth gazed at her friend, a sort of aching sympathy withholding her -from speech. - -"After that," pursued Miss Tripp, "I went to another agency, and they -asked me if I would like to travel abroad with a lady and her two -daughters. I thought I should like it very much indeed--I could engage -Cousin Sophia to stay with mother, you know--so I took the car out to -Chelsea to see a Mrs. Potwin-Pilcher, and found what she was looking for -was really an experienced lady's-maid and courier rolled into one, and -that she expected 'willing services in exchange for expenses.' I told -her I couldn't think of such a thing. Then Mrs. Potwin-Pilcher rose -up--she was a big, raw-boned person glittering with diamonds--and -informed me that she had fifty-nine applications for the position--I was -the sixtieth, it seems--and that she was sure I would be unable to -perform the duties of the position. After that I came directly home. -Monday I shall----" - -Miss Tripp paused apparently to remove her veil; when she finished her -sentence it was in a steady, matter-of-fact voice. "I shall go to see an -old friend of mother's--a Mrs. Baxter Crownenshield--I think you've -heard me speak of her, Elizabeth. She and mother were very intimate once -upon a time, and Mr. Crownenshield owed his success in business to my -father. I'm going to--ask her advice. Now I think I'll go up-stairs and -take off these damp skirts, and after that I'll come down and help you -mend stockings, or anything----. Only let me do something, Elizabeth!" - -There was almost a wail in the tired voice, and Elizabeth, wiser than -she knew, pulled out her mending-basket with a smile. "I'm almost -ashamed to confess that I need some help badly," she said. "I hope you -won't be horrified at the condition of Carroll's stockings." - -Miss Tripp was quite her charming self again when she reappeared clad in -a trailing gown of rosy lavender. She told the children the lively tale -of the goose-girl, which she had promised them in the morning, choosing -the while the stockings with the most discouraging holes out of -Elizabeth's basket and protesting that she loved--yes, positively -adored--darning stockings. But she finished her self-imposed task at an -early hour, and after playing two or three tuneful little chansonettes -on Elizabeth's hard-worked and rather shabby piano, excused herself. - -"I must write to mother," she said smilingly. "She quite depends on me -for a bright chatty letter every day, and I've so much to tell her of -to-day's amusing adventures. Really, do you know that Potwin-Pilcher -person ought to go into a novel. She was positively unique!" - -Elizabeth was silent for some moments after the sound of Evelyn's light -foot had passed from the stair. Then she turned a brooding face upon her -husband. "I am so sorry for poor Evelyn," she said. - -Sam Brewster stirred uneasily in his chair. "So you said before she -arrived," he observed. "I don't see anything about the fair Evelyn to -call forth expressions of pity. She looks remarkably prosperous to me." - -"Yes; but you don't see everything, Sam. That gown is one she has had -for years, and it has been cleaned and made over and over again." - -"Well; so have most of yours, my dear, and you don't ask for sympathy on -that account." - -"Sam, dear, they haven't any money. Can't you understand? They lost -everything when the Back-Bay Security Company failed. Evelyn doesn't -know what to do. There is her mother to take care of and you know how -helpless she is. I don't suppose she ever really did anything in her -whole life." - -"It's a problem; I'll admit," agreed her husband, scowling over his -unread paper; "but I don't see what we are going to do about it." - -"That's the worst of it, Sam; we really can't do anything, and I'm -afraid other people won't. I had thought--if nothing else turned -up--that perhaps Mrs. Tripp could be induced to go into a home. One of -those nice, refined places where one has to pay to be admitted, and then -Evelyn--might----" - -She paused and looked anxiously at her husband. "We might let her stay -here, Sam; and----" - -He shook his head. "You're the most self-sacrificing of darlings when it -comes to helping your friends," he said; "but I couldn't stand for that, -Betty. Two weeks is about my limit, I'm afraid, when it comes to -entertaining angels unawares. I'm willing to admit the unique character -of Miss Tripp, and to vote her a most agreeable guest, and all that. -But----" - -Elizabeth gazed at her husband understandingly. "I know, Sam," she said, -"and I think so too. But----" - - - - -XI - - -"Mother, de-ar, can we go out to play in the back yard? I c'n put on my -overshoes an' leggins, an' I c'n help Doris too, if you're busy." - -Elizabeth looked up from her task of cutting out rompers for her baby -with a preoccupied sigh. "You have a little cold now, Carroll," she said -doubtfully, "and if you should get wet in the snow----" - -"We won't get wet, mother. I pr-romise!" - -"Very well, dear; now remember!" - -It was cold and clear and there seemed very little danger of dampness as -the two children ran out with a whoop of joy into the side yard where -the snow-laden evergreens partially screened the Stanford's house from -view. Robbie Stanford's round, solemn face was staring at them wistfully -from a second-story window as they dashed ecstatically into a snow bank, -to emerge white with the sparkling drift. - -"Hello, Rob; come on out!" called Carroll. - -"I can't," replied Master Stanford, raising the window cautiously. - -"Why?" - -"Oh, nothin' much; but I guess I'd better stay up here till mother comes -home." - -"Who said so?" - -"That horrid ol' Annie. I was down in the kitchen an' I fired only one -clothespin at her, jus' for fun, an' it hit her in the eye; she got mad -an' chased me up here an' locked the door." - -"Where's your mother?" - -"She's gone down town. She said she'd bring me some candy if I was good. -Bu' 'f I ain't good she'll take the paddle to me. Say, Carroll!" - -"What?" - -"Why don't you an' Doris make a skatin' rink?" - -"A--what?" - -"A skatin' rink. It's great. I know how; I saw a boy makin' one in his -back yard. It's awful easy. You just run the hose----" - -Master Stanford paused in the course of his exposition to cast a -cautious glance behind him. "I guess I'm takin' cold all right," he went -on feelingly. "I hope I am. Then maybe I'll have the croup an' be awful -sick. I guess they'd all be sorry, then. Say, Carroll, do you see Annie -anywheres?" - -Carroll reconnoitred cautiously. "She's hangin' up clo'es in the back -yard," he informed the young person aloft. - -"If I c'd get out of here, I'd show you how to make that skatin' rink. -We c'd make it easy, an' have it ready to skate on b' to-morrow." - -"We haven't any skates," objected Doris. "B'sides," with a toss of her -scarlet hood, "I don't believe you know how to make a skatin' rink." - -"I don't know how? Well, I just bet I do!" exclaimed the prisoner -dangling his small person far over the window-sill, while Doris screamed -an excited protest. "Pooh! I ain't afraid of fallin' out--ain't afraid -of nothin'; I'll bet I c'd jump out this window. I guess I'd have to if -the house took on fire. Say, if this house should ketch on fire, -Carroll, your house would burn up too. I've got some matches in my -pocket," he added darkly; "if I should take a notion I c'd burn up -everythin' on this block, an' maybe the whole town. I'll bet I c'd do -it." - -"How do you make a skatin' rink?" inquired Carroll, with an anxious -glance at his own cosy home, which suddenly appeared very dear to him in -view of a general conflagration. - -Master Stanford reflected frowningly. "Is our cellar window open?" - -"Nope; it's shut." - -"Well, first you'll have to dig out a big square place, an' pile snow -all round the edge. I'll get out o' here somehow b' the time you get -that done; then we'll run it full of water. 'N after that it'll freeze." - -"Where c'd we get the water?" inquired Doris, with an unbelieving sniff. -"Mother wouldn't let us get it in the kitchen." - -"Out of our hose pipe," said Master Stanford grandly. The Brewsters -owned no hose, and this fact was a perpetual source of grievance in -summer time. "I'll run her right under the hedge into your yard," -continued the proprietor of the hose generously, "an' let her swizzle!" - -"Oh--my!" gasped the small Brewsters in excited chorus. - -"Well; are you goin' to do it?" - -Carroll shook his head. "We promised mother we wouldn't get wet," he -observed with an air of superior virtue. "'N we always mind our mother, -don't we, Doris?--at least I do. Doris doesn't always. But she's a -girl." - -Master Stanford cackled with derision. "Aw--you're a terrible good boy, -aren't you?" he crowed. "My father says you're a reg'lar prig. He says -he'd larrup me, if I was always braggin' 'bout bein' so good the way you -do. He says I haven't anythin' to brag of. Course if you're 'fraid of -your mother----" - -Doris pirouetted off across the yard with a flirt of her short skirts. -"We aren't afraid, smarty!" she cried, her pink chin high in air. "An' -we aren't any gooder an' you are, Robbie Stanford--at least I'm not; so -there! Come on, Carroll; let's make a skatin' rink." - -Hard labour with two small snow-shovels produced the semblance of a -square enclosure bounded by uneven ridges of soft snow. Mrs. Brewster -glancing out of the window at her darlings was pleased to observe their -red cheeks and the joyous enthusiasm with which they were pursuing their -self-imposed task. - -"Dear little souls!" she thought, "how little it takes to keep them -happy." Then she became absorbingly busy at her machine in the task of -double-stitching the seams of the baby's rompers. - -In the meanwhile young Robert Stanford had been released from durance -vile by the kind-hearted Annie, whose warm Irish heart had reproached -her for her fit of bad temper. - -"Sure an' yez didn't mean to hit me eye; did yez, now?" she inquired, as -she poked her broad red face into the room. - -"Naw; course I didn't," the incarcerated one ingratiatingly assured her. -"Say, Annie, c'n I have four cookies?" - -"Oh, go 'way wid yez; four's too many entirely; I'll give ye wan wid a -clip over yer ear." - -"No; honest, I ain't goin' to eat 'em all. I want one for Carroll an' -Doris an' two for me." - -"An' it's the generous young one he is entirely," laughed Annie. "Come -on down an' I'll put yer coat on, and mind yez don't get into no more -mischief or I'll be afther tellin' yer mother; thin you'll get a taste -of the paddle." - -"I'll give you a whole lot of my candy, Annie," said the boy earnestly, -"if you'll tell mother I was awful good. Will you?" - -"'Awful' it was, all right," giggled Annie; "but if I was to say you was -good I'd have to burn in purgatory for me sins. I'll say nothin'." - -"Where's purgatory, Annie?" inquired the young person after a thoughtful -silence. - -"It's a warrum place entirely where you'll find yourself some day, I'm -thinkin', if yez meddle too much in my kitchen," said Annie darkly. -"Here's your cookies; now g'wan wid yez an' don't ye be afther botherin' -me no more." - -It was a matter which required concerted effort to uncoil the heavy -hose, attach it to the water pipe and lift the nozzle to the level of -the window; but it was accomplished at last through the united efforts -of the two boys ably assisted by Doris, who was all excitement at the -prospect of sliding on a real ice pond in her own yard. - -"I guess our daddy'll be s'prised when he sees us goin' around like -lightnin' on reg'lar ice," she said. "He's got skates, our daddy has, -an' he c'n skate like everythin', our daddy can." - -"Pooh! that's nothin'," retorted Master Stanford; "my father c'n beat -your father all holler. He's a whole lot taller 'n your father, an' our -house is higher 'n yours, too." - -"It's p'liter not to brag," said Doris, ignoring her own deflections -from civility. "Oh, my, look at the water spurting out of that teeny, -weeny hole! It's just like a fountain." - -The two boys were laboriously dragging the heavy hose across the yard, -and in the process other holes appeared through which the water hissed -and gurgled with increasing force. - -"I don't care," the proprietor of the hose assured them loftily. "It's -an' ol' thing anyway. We're goin' to have a great long new one nex' -summer; then maybe we'll give you this one. My father's so rich he don't -care. Now I'll poke the nozzle through the hedge an' let her swizzle. -Get out o' the way, Doris; I don't care if I do get wet." - -Ten minutes later Mrs. Stanford, rosy and cheerful, after her brisk walk -in the winter sunshine, appeared on the scene. "What are you doing, -kiddies?" she inquired pleasantly; then in a more doubtful tone. "What -_are_ you doing? Why, Robbie!" - -"We're jus' makin' a skatin' rink, and the ol' hose leaks like thunder," -explained her son, employing a simile he had heard his father use the -day before, and which he had considered particularly manly and -admirable. - -"Robert! you are soaked to the skin--and so is Carroll. Go right into -the house. What do you mean by being so naughty?" - -"You didn't say I couldn't take the hose," sulked the boy, surveying his -parent from under lowering brows. - -"Go in the house, sir; I'll attend to you presently," said his mother -sternly. - -"Oh, please; I'll be good! I didn't--mean--to," whined the child. -"Carroll an' Doris, they wanted a skatin' rink, an' I----" - -Mrs. Stanford stooped to turn off the water. "Go home at once," she said -to her neighbour's children. "And you, Robert, go up to the bathroom and -take off your wet clothing." Her pretty young face was flushed with -anger. "I never saw such dreadful children!" she murmured wrathfully. - -"My, but she's mad!" whispered Carroll, looking after the slim, erect -figure, "it wasn't our fault their ol' hose leaked." - -"I guess our mother'll be some mad, too," said Doris doubtfully; "that -water spurted all over my leggins; an' now I guess it's freezing." - -The two walked slowly across the yard, ploughing through the rapidly -congealing slush, which was the disappointing outcome of two hours of -hard work. - -"I don't like Robbie Stanford one bit," said Doris disgustedly. "He's -always getting us into mischief." - -"I said we ought not to get wet," Carroll reminded her eagerly. "Don't -you remember I did? An' you said----" - -"I don't like you either," pursued the little girl stonily. "I don't -b'lieve I like boys _a'tall_; so there!" - -"I'm all wet," she announced to her mother, "an' Carroll's wetter 'an I -am; an'--we--we're--both--c-cold!" - -It was characteristic of Elizabeth that she thoroughly dried and warmed -the children before asking any questions. Then despite their dismayed -protests she put them both to bed. "You disobeyed me," she told them, -"and now you'll have to stay in your beds till to-morrow morning. I'll -explain to your father. Of course he'll be disappointed not to see you -at dinner; but I can't help that." - - -A period of depressing silence followed during which both children -caught the distant sounds of passionate and prolonged crying from the -neighbouring house. - -"It's Robbie," said Carroll in an awed whisper; "his mother's whipping -him with that butter-paddle o' hers. She does that when he's awful bad." - -"I'd bite her!" murmured Doris between her clenched teeth. -"I'd--I'd--scratch her!" She burst into excited tears. "I'd just--hate -my mother if she--if she hurt me like that!" - -"Pooh! Rob don't care so very much," Carroll assured her; "he says he -hollers jus' as loud as he can so his mother'll stop quicker. I s'pose," -he continued after a thoughtful pause, "Robbie'll be up to dinner jus' -the same, an' we'll be here eatin' bread and milk." - - - - -XII - - -Elizabeth's promised explanation to the father of the culprits above -stairs led to a spirited discussion between the husband and wife, after -Miss Tripp had retired to her apartment. - -"Poor little kids," Sam Brewster said whimsically. "I believe I'm glad -I'm not your child, Betty,--I mean, of course, that I'm glad I'm your -husband," he amended quickly, as her unsmiling eyes reproached him. -"Don't you think you were a little hard on them, though?" - -"Hard on them?" she echoed indignantly. "You're much more severe with -the children than I am, Sam,--when you're at home. You know you are." - -He smoked thoughtfully for a minute or two before replying. "Look here, -Betty," he said at last, "you're right in a way. I'm not half so patient -as you are, I'll admit. But I wonder if we don't all miss the mark when -it comes to disciplining children?--Wait--just a minute before you -answer. I've been thinking a whole lot about this business of home rule -since we--er--discussed it the other day, and I've come to the -conclusion that the only thing to do is to let universal law take its -course with them. They are human beings, my dear, and they've got to -come up against the law in its broader sense sooner or later. Let 'em -begin right now." - -She was eyeing him pityingly. "And by that you mean----?" - -"I mean," he went on, warming to his subject, "that you've got to teach -a child what it means to reap what he sows. If Richard wants to put his -finger on the stove and investigate the phenomenon of calorics, let him. -He won't do it twice." - -"And if he wants to paddle in the aquarium of a cold winter day, -you'd----" - -"Let him--of course," said Sam stoutly. "He'd feel uncomfortably damp -and chilly after a while." - -"Yes; and have the croup or pneumonia that same night." - -"You're hopelessly old-fashioned, Betty," he laughed; "you shouldn't -introduce the croup or pneumonia idea into the infant consciousness. -But seriously, my dear, I believe I'm right. If you don't teach the -children to recognise the relation between cause and effect now--so that -it becomes second nature to them, how are they going to understand the -subject when they're put up against it later? You'll find the mother -bird and the mother bear, and, in fact, all the animal creation -carefully instilling the idea of cause and effect into their offspring -from the very beginning; while human parents are as constantly -protecting their children from the effects of the causes which the -children ignorantly set in motion. In other words we persist in undoing -the work of old 'Mother Be-done-by-as-you-did.' It's a blunder, in my -opinion. But of course, I'm a mere man and my ideas are not entitled to -much consideration." - -Elizabeth gazed at her husband with open admiration. "Of course they are -entitled to consideration," she said decidedly. "And I believe what you -have said--with reservations. Suppose Baby Dick, for example, should -lean out of the window too far--a second-story window, I mean--and I -should see him doing it and feel pretty certain he was going to pitch -out head first and cripple himself for life. Do you think I ought to -stand still and let the law of gravitation teach him not to do it a -second time?" - -Sam Brewster laid down his pipe and gazed steadfastly at his wife. She -was looking extremely young and bewitchingly pretty as she leaned toward -him, her cheeks pink, her brown eyes glowing with earnestness in which -he thought he detected a spark of her old girlish mischief. - -"'And still the wonder grew,'" he quoted solemnly, "'that one small head -could carry all she knew!'" - -"Please answer me, Sam," she insisted. - -"Well, of course you've got me. You'd have to haul in the young person -by the heels, and----" - -"And what, exactly, if you please?" - -"You might illustrate--with some fragile, concrete object, like an -egg--as to what would happen if he fell out," said Sam, with exceeding -mildness, "and----" - -"In other words," she interrupted him triumphantly, "I ought to -interfere _some_ of the time between cause and effect. The question -being when to interfere and when not to." - -"Exactly!" he said, planting an irrelevant kiss on the pink cheek -nearest him. "And that, my dear Betty, is your job--and, of course, -mine, when I'm here. But I still hold that the natural penalty is -best--when it's convincingly painful yet entirely innocuous." - -"What is the natural penalty for eating cookies out of the box when -you've been forbidden to do it?" she wanted to know. - -He chuckled as certain memories of his boyhood came back to him. "My -word!" he said, "I wish I could ever taste anything half as good as the -cookies out of Aunt Julia Brewster's crock--it was a cooky-crock in -those days. Of course I was forbidden to go to it without permission, -and also of course I did it." - -"What happened?" she demanded, the mischief growing bolder in her eyes. - -He reflected. "Aunt Julia wouldn't let me have any at table on several -occasions; but I--er--regret to say that I was not duly impressed by the -punishment. A cooky--one cooky--decorously taken from a china plate at -the conclusion of a meal did not, in my youthful opinion, court -comparison with six--eight--ten cookies, moist and spicy from their -seclusion and eaten with an uncloyed appetite. Let's--er--change the -subject for the moment, my dear. Of course I'm right, but I appear to be -hopelessly treed. Tell me how our friend Miss Tripp is getting on. She -appeared somewhat depressed at dinner-time, and I didn't like to ask for -information for fear there was nothing doing." - -Elizabeth sighed sympathetically. "Evelyn had a dreadfully disappointing -day," she told him. "But"--her eyes dancing again--"she met Mr. Hickey -down town, and he actually invited her to lunch with him." - -Sam whistled softly. "Hickey is progressing," he said approvingly. "Did -he take her to the business men's lunchroom? Hickey has conscientious -scruples against going anywhere else. I asked him into Colby's one day -and he declined on the ground of his duty as a constant patron of the B. -M. L. He said his table was reserved for him there by the season, -and----" - -"How absurd!" laughed Elizabeth. "But, I was going to tell you; Evelyn -remembered another engagement, and so----" she stopped short, her eyes -growing luminous. "Sam," she said suddenly, "I don't know what to think -of Evelyn; she really didn't have any lunch at all; she said so when she -came. I made her a cup of tea; she looked so worn and tired. I wonder if -Mr. Hickey could have said anything, or---- What do you think, Sam?" - -Sam yawned behind his paper. "I'm really too sleepy to give to the -question the profound attention which it merits; but to-morrow when my -intellect is fresh and keen, I'll endeavour to----" - -"You mean you don't care." - -"Suppose I did care, my very dear Betty; suppose my whole career -depended upon what Hickey said--or didn't say; what could I do about -it?" - -"I'm sure I don't know, Sam," said his Elizabeth meekly. But her eyes -were still full of speculative curiosity as she went up-stairs. - - - - -XIII - - -The facts in the case, if known to Elizabeth, might have served to throw -a clearer light upon Miss Tripp's somewhat unsatisfactory account of her -day in the city. In the first place, the weather which had dawned bright -and sunny had suddenly turned nasty, with a keen wind driving large, -moist snowflakes into the faces of pedestrians. Evelyn had found herself -without an umbrella and wearing her best hat and gown walking the long -block which intervened between her destination and the car from which -she had alighted. - -Mrs. Baxter Crownenshield was known to the wide circle of her -acquaintances as a large, funereal person, invariably clothed in black, -and as perpetually exuding a copious and turgid sympathy upon all who -came in contact with her, somewhat after the manner of a cuttle-fish. -She lived in a mansion, large and dull like herself, on Beacon Street, -where she occupied herself exclusively with those dubious activities -euphemistically called "charitable work." - -When Miss Evelyn Tripp was shown into Mrs. Crownenshield's chilly -reception-room that morning in February, she shivered a little in her -damp clothes as she sat down on a slippery chair and endeavoured vaguely -to forecast the coming interview. Her mother had suggested Mrs. -Crownenshield as a sort of _dernier resort_, with a fretful reminiscence -of the days when the Baxter Crownenshields were poor and lived in a -third-story back room of a fifth-rate boarding-house. - -"I used to give Jane Crownenshield my gowns after I had worn them a -season," Mrs. Tripp said querulously; "and glad enough she was to get -them. As for her husband, he was not much of a man. Your father used to -say Crownenshield couldn't be trusted to earn his salt at honest work in -a counting-room; but when the war broke out he borrowed five hundred -dollars of your father, and bought and sold army stores. After that he -grew rich somehow, and we grew poor. But Jane Crownenshield ought to -remember that she owes everything she has to-day to your father." - -Miss Tripp perched uncomfortably on the unyielding surface of the -inhospitable hair-cloth chair she had chosen, gazed attentively at the -portrait of the late lamented Crownenshield which hung over the -mantle-piece, and at the bronze representation of the same large and -self-satisfied countenance smirking at her from a shadowy corner, while -she repeated nervously the opening words with which she hoped to engage -his widow's friendly interest. It seemed an interminable period before -she heard the slow and ponderous footfall which presaged the majestic -approach of Mrs. Crownenshield; as a matter of fact, it was almost -exactly half an hour by the dismal-voiced black marble clock surmounted -by an urn. - -Miss Tripp arose upon the entrance of the large lady in black and held -out her hand with a feeble effort after the sprightly ease of her old -society manner. "Good morning, Mrs. Crownenshield," she began, in a -voice which in spite of herself sounded weak and timid in the gloomy, -high-ceiled room. "I do hope I haven't interrupted any important -labour--I know you are always so much occupied with--charities, and----" - -Mrs. Crownenshield stared meditatively at Miss Tripp's small, slight -figure, her gaze appearing to concern itself particularly with her -head-gear from which drooped two large dispirited plumes. - -"Tripp--Tripp? I don't place you," she said at last,--"unless you are -Mary Tripp's daughter. She had a daughter, I believe." The Crownenshield -voice was loud and authoritative; it appeared to demand information as -something due, upon which interest had accumulated. - -"I am Mary Tripp's daughter," Evelyn informed her, in a sudden panic -lest she be mistaken for an object of charity; then she hesitated, at a -loss for something to say next. - -Mrs. Crownenshield sighed heavily. "Poor woman," she observed -lugubriously. "Mary Tripp has had many trials to support." - -Evelyn's small, sensitive face grew a shade paler. "Yes," she agreed, -"my dear mother has had more than her share of sorrow and loss. I wonder -if you knew that we--that mother lost all of her remaining property in -the failure of the Back-Bay Security Company?" - -Mrs. Crownenshield's cold grey eyes opened a little wider upon her -visitor. "How regrettable!" she observed. "No; I had not heard of it. -But I fear many others have suffered with Mary Tripp. Fortunately for -me, my dear late husband's investments were conservative and safe. Mr. -Crownenshield did not approve of Trust Companies--except those which he -controlled himself. If John Tripp had seen fit to leave his money in -trust with Mr. Crownenshield--and I have always felt surprised and hurt -to think that he did not do so, after all the business relations of the -past--Mary Tripp would be quite comfortable to-day. Pray convey to your -poor afflicted mother my condolences, and tell her that I was greatly -grieved to learn of her misfortunes." - -Evelyn murmured incoherent thanks. - -"I--came this morning to ask--your advice," she added after a heavy -pause. "I thought--that is, mother thought--that perhaps you--might know -of something I could do to--to earn money. I must do something, you -know." She had grown hot and cold with the shame of this confession -under the unwinking gaze of Mrs. Crownenshield's colourless eyes. - -That lady folded her large white hands upon which glittered several -massive rings. - -"I shall be very glad to advise you," she said, "if you will acquaint me -with your qualifications for service. I have frequent opportunities to -place indigent but worthy females, such as you appear to be. Are you a -good seamstress?" - -"I fear not, Mrs. Crownenshield," faltered Evelyn. "I never liked -sewing." - -"You could earn a dollar a day as a skilled seamstress," intoned the -female philanthropist inexorably. "Whether you like sewing or not is of -very little consequence in view of your necessities." - -"I thought I should prefer teaching, or----" - -Mrs. Crownenshield glanced abstractedly at the massive watch which -depended from some sort of funereal device in black enamel upon her -ample bosom, and compared its silent information with that of the black -marble time-piece on the mantle. Then she arose with a smile, which -appeared to have been carven upon her large pallid face with the effect -of a mask. - -"I am very sorry indeed that I can not give you more of my time this -morning," she said mournfully. "But I have a board-meeting of The -Protestant Evangelical Refuge for aged, indigent and immoral females at -half-past eleven o'clock; and at one I am due at a luncheon of the -Federated Woman's Charitable Associations of Boston, at which I shall -preside." - -She arose and enfolded both of Miss Tripp's small cold hands in her -large, moist clasp, with an air of fervid emotion. - -"I feel for you," she sighed, "I do indeed! and my heart bleeds for your -unfortunate mother. Mary Tripp was always accustomed to every luxury and -extravagance. She must feel the change to abject poverty; but I trust -she will endeavour to lift her thoughts from the sordid cares of earth -toward that better land where--I feel sure--my dear late husband is -enjoying the rest that remaineth. After all, my poor girl, the -consolations of religion are the only sure refuge in this sad world. I -always strive to point the way to those situated like yourself." - -"Thank you, Mrs. Crownenshield," said Evelyn stonily. - -"If there is anything I can do to assist you further, don't fail to call -upon me freely!" warbled the lady, as Evelyn passed out into the hall. -"I will send you copies of the literature illustrating the work of our -various refuges and asylums. You may be glad to refer to them later." - -Evelyn found herself in the street, she hardly knew how, her little feet -carrying her swiftly away from the Crownenshield residence. She felt -hurt and outraged in every fibre of her being, and her tear-blurred eyes -took little note of the weather which had changed from a wet clinging -snow to mingled rain and sleet, which beat upon her unprotected face -like invisible whips. She did not know where to go, or what to do next; -but she hurried blindly forward, her limp skirts gathered in one hand, -her head bent against the piercing wind. - -Then, strangely enough, the stinging blast seemed suddenly shut away and -she looked up to find a stout umbrella interposed between her and the -storm. The handle of the umbrella was grasped by a large, -masterful-looking hand in a shabby brown glove, and a broad shoulder -hove into view from behind the hand. - -"Where is your umbrella, Miss Tripp?" inquired a voice, as masterful in -its way as the hand. - -"Oh!--I--that is, I forgot it," she faltered, looking up into Mr. George -Hickey's eyes, with a belated consciousness of the tears in her own. -"The rain--is--wet," she added, with startling originality. - -"Hum; yes," assented Mr. Hickey thoughtfully. He was striving in his -dull masculine way to account for the wan, woe-begone expression of Miss -Tripp's face and for the telltale drops on her thick brown lashes. "I -was on my way to luncheon when I saw you," he went on. "--Er--have -you--lunched, Miss Tripp?" - -Evelyn shook her head. "Is it as late as that?" she said. "I ought to -go----" - -"Not back to Mrs. Brewster's," he said; "it's too late for -that.--Er--won't you give me the--er--the pleasure of lunching with you? -I--er--in fact, I'm exceedingly hungry myself, and----" - -Mr. Hickey stopped short and looked about him somewhat wildly. It had -just occurred to him that he could not invite Miss Tripp to accompany -him to the business men's lunchroom where he usually took his -unimportant meal, and he wondered what sort of a place women went to -anyway, and what they ate? - -The experienced Miss Tripp smiled; she appeared to read his thoughts -with an ease which astonished while it frightened him a little. - -"It is very good of you to ask me, Mr. Hickey," she said prettily, "and -I shall be very happy to take lunch with you. Do you go to Daniels'? It -is such a nice place, I think, and not far up the street." - -"Oh--er--yes; certainly. I like Daniels' exceedingly. A good place, -very. We'll--ah--just step across and---- Oh, I beg your pardon!" - -Mr. Hickey was so agitated by the sudden and unprecedented position in -which he found himself that he almost knocked Miss Tripp's hat off with -a sudden swoop of his umbrella, as they crossed the street. - -"How stupid of me!" he cried, as she put it straight with one little -hand, smiling up at him forgivingly as she did it. "I'm an awkward sort -of a chap, anyway," he went on with another illustrative jab of the -umbrella. "I guess I'm hopeless as--er--a ladies' man." - -"Oh, no, you aren't," contradicted Miss Tripp sweetly. "I never felt -more relieved and--and happy than when I looked up to find your big -umbrella between my head and the storm. I went off to town in such a -hurry this morning that I left my umbrella in the rack in Elizabeth's -hall." - -He tried not to look his curiosity; then blurted out his uppermost -thought. "You looked awfully done up when I overtook you; what--er----" - -"I was," she confessed. "I was ready to weep with rage and -disappointment. Have you ever felt that way?" - -"Well, no," said Mr. Hickey candidly; "I can't say that I've ever got to -the point you mention. I don't believe I've shed a tear since--since my -mother died. She was the only person in the world who cared a rap -whether I sank or swam, survived or perished, and after she went. I---- -But I've been angry enough to--er--cuss a little now and then. Of -course ladies can't do that, so----" - -Evelyn smiled appreciatively. "It might have relieved my feelings if you -had been there to use a little--strong language for me," she said. Then -she told him something of her visit to Mrs. Crownenshield and its -outcome. - -"Hum, yes!" he observed. "I fancy I know her sort, and I--er--despise -it. What did you want her to do for you? There, now I've put my foot in! -It's none of my business of course, Miss Tripp, and you needn't tell -me." - -Evelyn hesitated. "I shouldn't like you to think I'm whining or -complaining," she said soberly; "but there's no reason why you--or -anyone--shouldn't know that I am looking for work. I never have -worked"--the brave voice faltered a little--"but that's no reason why I -shouldn't work now. In fact, it's a reason why I must. Everything was -different when I was a girl to what it is now," she went on, calmly -ignoring her "feelings-on-the-subject-of-her-age" which had of late -years been abnormally sensitive. "I wasn't brought up to do anything -more useful than to sew lace on a pocket-handkerchief and play a few -easy pieces on the piano. Of course I learned a little French--enough to -chatter ungrammatically when we went abroad--and a little bad German, -and a little--a very little execrable Italian--nothing of a usable -quantity or quality, you see; so now I find myself----" - -"But why? What has happened?" he urged in a low voice. - -"The usual and what should have been the expected, I suppose," she told -him. "We--that is mother and I--lost our money. We never thought of such -a thing happening. We had always drawn checks for what we wanted, and -that was all there was of it--till the bank closed, and then of course -we had to think." - -"I'm--Confound it; it's too bad!" he said strongly. "Banks have no -business to close; it's--er--it's a national disgrace. There ought to be -some law to--er--put a stop to such outrages on civilisation!" - -Miss Tripp said nothing. She was experiencing a quite natural revulsion -of feeling, and was now exceedingly sorry that she had confided anything -of her affairs to Mr. Hickey. "He'll think of course that I am making a -cheap bid for sympathy--perhaps trying to borrow money of him," she -thought, while a painful scarlet crept up into her pale cheeks. - -Mr. Hickey was not a tactful man. He did not observe the unwonted colour -in Miss Tripp's face, nor the proud light in her eyes. - -"I've got more money than I know what to do with," he said bluntly, -"and--er--I wish you'd allow me to----" - -Miss Tripp stopped short. "Oh, Mr. Hickey," she exclaimed regretfully, -"I don't know what you will think of me for accepting your kind -invitation to luncheon, and then leaving you--as I must. I'd entirely -forgotten an important engagement to meet--a friend of mine. I shall -have to ask you to excuse me. It's too bad, isn't it? But I am so -forgetful. And--please don't worry about my absurd confidences. Really, -I exaggerated; I always do. We are perfectly comfortable--mother and -I--only of course it was hard to lose our _surplus_--the jam on our -bread, as I tell mother. But one can live quite comfortably on plain -bread, and it is far better for one; I know that. Good-bye! So kind of -you to shelter me!--No; I couldn't think of taking your umbrella! -Really; don't you see the rain is over; besides, I'm going to take this -car. Good-bye, and thank you so much!" - -Mr. Hickey stood quite still on the corner where she had left him and -stared meditatively after the car, which bore her away, for the space of -two unfruitful minutes. Then he turned squarely around and plodded down -town to the business men's lunchroom. He did not care, he told himself, -to change his habits by lunching at Daniels', which was a foolishly -expensive place and haunted by crowds of women shoppers. Women were -singular things, anyway. Mr. Hickey was satisfied, on the whole, that he -was not obliged to meet them often. And later in the day he was -selfishly pleased that he had not been obliged to loan his umbrella; for -the rain, which had ceased a little, came down in icy torrents which -froze as it fell on the sidewalks and branches of the trees. - - - - -XIV - - -Evelyn Tripp never informed anyone where she went on the car that bore -her triumphantly away from Mr. Hickey and the conversation which had -suddenly grown intolerable. The intolerable part of it was her own -fault, she told herself. And--well, she realised that she was paying for -it, as she jounced along over mile after mile of uneven track, through -unfamiliar, yet drearily monotonous streets. Damp, uncomfortable-looking -people came and went, and from time to time the conductor glanced -curiously at the small lady in the fashionably-cut jacket and furs, who -shrank back in her corner gazing with unseeing eyes out of the dripping -windows. - -"Las' stop!" he shouted impatiently, as the car came to a groaning -standstill away out in a shabby suburb, where several huge factories -were in process of erection. - -Miss Tripp started up and looked out at the sodden fields and muddy, -half-frozen road. Two or three dirty, dispirited-looking men boarded -the car and sat down heavily, depositing their tools at their feet. Then -the driver and conductor, who had swung the trolley around, and -accomplished other official duties incident to the terminal, entered, -closing the doors behind them with a professional crash. - -Both stared at Miss Tripp who had subsided into her corner again. - -"Say, Bill; nice weather for a trolley-ride--heh?" observed the -motor-man, shifting an obvious quid of something in his capacious mouth. - -"Aw--you shut up, Cho'ley!" growled his superior. - -Bill thoughtfully obeyed, drumming with his feet on the floor and -pursing up his tobacco-stained lips in an inaudible whistle. Presently -he glanced at his big nickel watch and shook his head at the conductor. -"A minute an' a half yet, b' mine," he said; "made a quick trip out." - -Then he cast another side-long glance at the one lady passenger. "Got -carried past, I guess," he suggested with a wink. "Better look sharp for -the right street on the way back, Bill." - -"You bet," observed the other, with his hand on the bell-rope. "I'm on -the job all right." - - -Elizabeth Brewster was giving her youngest son his supper when her -friend Miss Tripp entered her hospitable door. - -"Oh, Evelyn!" she began, with an eager air of welcome; "I was hoping you -would come home early to-night, Marian Stanford was here this afternoon; -she wants to go---- But Evelyn, dear, what ever is the matter? You're as -white as a ghost. Don't you feel well?" - -Miss Tripp valiantly plucked up a wan smile. - -"I am perfectly well," she declared; "but, Betty dear, could you give me -a cup of tea? I was so--busy and--hurried to-day that I forgot all about -my luncheon, and I just this minute realised it." - -Elizabeth hurried into the kitchen on hospitable cares intent and Evelyn -sank wearily into a chair. Her head was swimming with weariness and the -lack of food; cold, discouraged drops crowded her blue eyes. - -Richard quietly absorbing bread and milk from a gay china bowl gazed at -her with a round speculative stare. - -"Cwyin'?" he observed in a bird-like voice. - -[Illustration: "Cwyin'?" he observed in a bird-like voice] - -"No, dear," denied Miss Tripp, winking resolutely. "What made you think -of such a thing, precious?" - -"'Cause it's--it's naughty to cwy." - -"I know it, dear; and I'm going to smile; that's better; isn't it?" - -Her somewhat hysterical effort after her usual cheerful expression did -not appear to deceive Richard. He waved his spoon charged with milk in -her general direction. - -"I'm a dood boy," he announced with pride. "I eat my shupper an' I don't -cwy." - -"Here is the tea you're evidently perishing for, Evelyn dear," said -Elizabeth, setting a steaming cup before her guest; "and I've some good -news for you--at least I'm hoping you'll like it. I'm sure I should love -to have you so near us, and it would give you plenty of time to choose -something permanent." - -Miss Tripp's wan face had taken on a tinge of colour as she sipped the -hot tea. "What is it, Betty?" she asked quietly enough, though her heart -was beating hard with hope deferred. "Did that Popham man call to see -me after all?" - -"No," Elizabeth said; "it isn't the Popham man. And perhaps you won't -like the idea at all. I started to tell you that Marian--Mrs. -Stanford--was here this afternoon. She came over to tell me that her -husband is going to California on a business trip; he wants her to go -with him and she is wild to go; but she doesn't know what to do with the -two children. She can't take them along, as Mr. Stanford will be obliged -to travel rapidly from place to place. Her mother is almost an invalid -and can't bear the excitement of having them with her. It just occurred -to me that perhaps you might be willing to stay with the children. I -spoke of it to Marian and she was delighted with the idea. You could -have your mother come and stay with you, you know, and the house is so -comfortable and pretty." - -Elizabeth broke off in sudden consternation at sight of the usually -self-possessed Miss Tripp shaken with uncontrollable sobs. "Why, -Evelyn," she cried, "I never thought you would feel that way about it. -Of course I had no business to speak of you to Marian without -consulting you first; but I thought--I hoped----" - -"It--isn't that, Elizabeth," Miss Tripp managed to say, "I'm--not -offended--only tired. Don't mind me; I'll be all right as soon as I've -swallowed my tea and----" - -"It's naughty to cwy," chirped Richard, waving his milky spoon -rebukingly. "I'm a dood boy. I eat my shupper an' I don't cwy." - -In a fresh gown, with her nerves once more under control, Evelyn was -able to look more composedly at the door which had so unexpectedly -opened in the blind wall of her dilemma. There were serious -disadvantages--as Elizabeth was careful to point out--in attempting the -charge of the Stanford children, in conjunction with various undeniable -privileges and a generous emolument. - -"Robbie is certainly a handful for anybody to cope with, and the baby is -a spoiled child already." Elizabeth's voice sank to a soulful murmur, as -she added, "Marian has always believed in punishing her -children--whipping them, I mean; and you know, Evelyn, how that -brutalises a child." - -As a matter of fact, Miss Tripp knew very little about children; but -like the majority of persons who have never dealt familiarly with infant -humanity, she had formulated various sage theories concerning their -upbringing. - -"Dear Elizabeth," she replied, "how true that is; and yet how few -mothers realise it. Children should be controlled solely by love; I am -sure I shall have no trouble at all with those two dear little boys." - -And so it was settled. In less than a week's time Mrs. Stanford had -departed upon her long journey. At the last she clung somewhat wistfully -to Elizabeth. - -"I'm almost afraid to go and leave the children," she said. "Of course I -feel every confidence in Miss Tripp; but you know, Betty, how -resourceful Robert is, and how---- But you'll have an eye to them all; -won't you? And telegraph us if--if anything should happen?" - -Elizabeth promised everything. But she was conscious of a great weight -of responsibility as the carriage containing the light-hearted Stanfords -rolled away down the street. "Oh, Evelyn!" she said; "do watch Robbie -carefully, and be sure and call me if the least thing is the matter with -the baby." - -Miss Tripp smiled confidently. "I'm not the least bit worried," she -said. "Little Robert loves me devotedly already, and I am sure will be -most tractable and obedient; and Livingstone is a very healthy child. -Besides, you know, I have mother, who knows everything about children." - -She went back into her newly acquired domain, feeling that a -sympathising Providence had been very good to her, and resolving to do -her full duty, as she conceived it, by the temporarily motherless -Stanford children. - -In pursuance of this resolve she repaired at once to the nursery when -the Stanfords had taken leave of their offspring, after presenting them -with a parcel of new toys upon which the children had fallen with shouts -of joy. - -"I really could not go away and leave them looking wistfully out of the -windows after us," Mrs. Stanford had declared, with tears in her bright -brown eyes. "I should think of them that way every minute while we were -gone, and imagine them crying after me." - -"They won't cry, dear Mrs. Stanford," Evelyn had assured her. "I shall -devote every moment of my time to them and keep them just as happy as -wee little birdlings in a nest." - -The youngest Stanford child was peacefully engaged in demolishing a book -of bright pictures, while his elder brother was trying the blade of a -glittering jack-knife on the wood of the mantel-piece, when Miss Tripp -re-entered the room. - -"Oh, my dears!" exclaimed their new guardian with a tactful smile, "I -wouldn't do that!" - -The Stanford infant paid no manner of attention to the mildly worded -request; but the older boy turned and stared resentfully at her. "This -is my jack-knife," he announced conclusively; "my daddy gave it to me to -whittle with, an' I'm whittlin'." - -"But your father wouldn't like you to cut the mantel-shelf; don't you -know he wouldn't, dear?" - -"I'm goin' to whittle it jus' the same, 'cause you ain't my mother; you -ain't even my gran'ma." - -Miss Tripp, unable to deny the refutation, looked about her -distractedly. "I'll tell Norah to get you a nice piece of wood," she -said. "Where is Norah, dear?" - -"She's gone down to the corner to talk to her beau," replied Master -Robert, calmly continuing to dig his new knife into the mantel. "She's -got a p'liceman beau, an' so's Annie; on'y hers is a street-car driver. -Have you got one, Miss Tripp?" - -"Call me Aunty Evelyn, dear; that'll be nicer; don't you think it will? -And--Robert dear; if you'll stop cutting the mantel Aunty Evelyn will -tell you the loveliest story, all about----" - -"Aw--I don't like stories much. They're good 'nough for girls I guess, -but I----" - -Then the knife slipped and the amateur carpenter burst into a deafening -roar of anguish. - - - - -XV - - -Very much to his surprise, Mr. Hickey found himself disposed to hark -back to the day on which he had so unexpectedly parted company with Miss -Tripp on the corner of Tremont and Washington Streets. He had intended, -he told himself, to order for their luncheon broiled chicken, macaroons -and pink ice-cream, as being articles presumably suited to the feminine -taste. He remembered vaguely to have heard Miss Tripp mention pink -ice-cream, and all women liked the wing of a chicken. Was the unknown -"friend" with whom she had made that previous engagement, a man or a -woman? he wondered, deciding with the well-known egoism of his sex in -favour of the first mentioned. The man was a cad, anyway, Mr. Hickey was -positive--though he could not have particularised his reasons for this -summary conclusion. And being a cad, he was not worthy of Miss Tripp's -slightest consideration. - -If he had the thing to do over again, he told himself, he would sneak up -boldly to Miss Tripp concerning his own rights in the matter; he would -remind her--humorously of course--that possession was said to be nine -points in the law; and that he, Hickey, was disposed to do battle for -the tenth point with any man living. - -He grew quite hot and indignant as he pictured his rival sitting -opposite Miss Tripp in some second-class restaurant, ordering chicken -and ice-cream. As like as not the other fellow wouldn't know that she -preferred her ice-cream pink, and----. - -Mr. Hickey pulled himself up with a jerk at this point in his -meditations and told himself flatly that he was a fool, and that -further, when he came right down to it, he did not care a copper cent -about Miss Tripp's luncheons, past, present or to come. What he really -wanted to know--and this desire gained poignant force and persistence as -the days passed--was whether he had said or done anything to offend the -lady. He remembered that he had accidentally jabbed Miss Tripp's hat -with his umbrella, and very likely put a feather or two out of business. -That would be likely to annoy any woman. Perhaps she had felt that his -awkwardness was unpardonable, and his further acquaintance undesirable. - -Under the goad of this latter uncomfortable suspicion--in two weeks' -time it had grown into a conviction--he actually made his way into a -milliner's shop and inquired boldly for "feathers." - -"What sort of feathers, sir?" inquired the cool, bright-eyed -young person who came forward to ask the needs of the tall, -professional-looking man wearing glasses and exceedingly shabby brown -gloves. - -"Why--er--just feathers; the sort ladies wear on hats." - -The young person smiled condescendingly. "Something in plumes, sir?" she -asked, "or was it coque or marabout you wished to see?" - -"Something handsome. Long--er--and not too curly." - -The young woman produced a box and opened it. - -"How do you like this, sir? Only twenty dollars. Was it for an old lady -or a young lady?" - -"Er--a young lady," said Mr. Hickey hastily. "That is to say, she----" - -"Your wife, perhaps?" and the young person smiled intelligently. "How -would your lady like something like this?" And she held up a sweeping -plume of a dazzling shade of green. "This is quite the latest swell -thing from Paris, sir; can be worn on either a black or a white hat." - -Mr. Hickey reflected. "I--er--think the feathers were black," he -observed meditatively; "but I like colours myself. Red--er--is a -handsome colour in feathers." He eyed the young person defiantly. "I -always liked a good red," he asserted firmly. - -"These new cerise shades are all the rage now in Paris, N'Yo'k an' -Boston," agreed the young person, promptly pulling out another box. -"Look at this grand plume in shaded tints, sir! Isn't it just perfectly -stunning?" - -It was. Mr. Hickey surveyed it in rapt admiration, as the young person -dangled it alluringly within range of his short-sighted vision. - -"I'd want two of those," he murmured. - -"Forty-eight, seventy, sir; reduced from fifty dollars; shall I send -them?" - -"I--er--I'll take them with me," said the engineer, pulling out a roll -of bills. - -"Women's hats must be singularly expensive," he mused for the first time -in his professional career, as he strode away down the street, gingerly -bearing his late purchase in a pasteboard box. It had not before -occurred to Mr. Hickey that mere "feathers" were so costly. He trembled -as he reflected upon the ravages committed by his unthinking umbrella. -Anyway, these particular plumes were handsome enough to replace the ones -he had undoubtedly ruined. He grew eager to behold Miss Tripp's face -under the cerise plumes. But how was this to be brought about? Obviously -this new perplexity demanded time for consideration. He carried the -plumes home to his boarding-place, therefore, and stored them away on -the top shelf of his closet, where they were discovered on the following -day by his landlady, who was in the habit of keeping what she was -pleased to term "a motherly eye" upon the belongings of her unattached -boarders. - -"Well, I mus' say!" exclaimed the worthy Mrs. McAlarney to herself, when -her amazed eyes fell upon the contents of the strange box, purporting -to have come from a fashionable milliner's shop; "if that ain't the -greatest! Whatever's got into Mr. Hickey?" - -But the cerise plumes tarried in undeserved obscurity on the shelf of -Mr. Hickey's clothes-press for exactly fifteen days thereafter; then -they suddenly disappeared. - -In the meantime their purchaser continued to indulge in unaccustomed -reflections from day to day. He made no effort during all this time to -see Miss Tripp; but on the fifteenth day he chanced to meet Sam Brewster -as he was about entering the business men's lunchroom, which Mr. Hickey -still frequented as in former days. - -"Hello, old man!" was Sam's greeting. "Where have you been keeping -yourself all these weeks? I thought you'd be around some evening to see -us." - -"Er--I've been thinking of it," admitted Mr. Hickey cautiously. -"Is--er--Mrs. Brewster's friend, Miss Tripp, still with you?" - -"No, George; she isn't," Sam told him, enjoying the look of uncontrolled -dismay which instantly overspread Mr. Hickey's countenance. "She's gone -next door to stay," he added. - -"Next door--to--er stay?" - -"At the Stanfords' you know. Miss Tripp is keeping house and looking -after the young Stanfords while their exhausted parents are endeavouring -to recuperate their energies in the far west." - -"Hum--ah," quoth Mr. Hickey thoughtfully, his mind reverting casually to -the cerise plumes. - -"She's doing wonders with those kids, my wife tells me," pursued Sam -Brewster artfully. "Miss Tripp's a fine girl and no mistake; it'll be a -lucky man who can secure her services for life." - -Mr. Hickey offered no comment on this statement, and his friend waved -his hand in token of farewell. - -"Come around and see us, George, when you haven't anything better to -do," he said, as he stepped out to the street. - -"Oh--er--I say, Brewster; would it be the proper thing for me to call on -Miss Tripp? I--I have a little explanation to make, and----" - -"Miss Tripp's mother is chaperoning her," said Sam, with unsmiling -gravity. "It would be, I should say, quite the proper thing for you to -call upon her." - -"Well; then I think I'd better take those----. Er--Brewster, I wonder if -you could enlighten me?--You see it's this way, a--friend of mine called -at my office the other day to consult me about a little matter. He said -he'd been unfortunate enough to injure a lady's hat--feathers, you -know--and he wanted to know what I'd do under like circumstances. 'Well, -my dear fellow,' I told him, 'I don't know much about women's head-gear -and that sort of thing; but,' I said, 'I should think the square thing -to do would be to buy some handsome plumes and send them to the -lady--something good and--er--expensive; say forty or fifty dollars.'" - -Sam whistled. "Pretty tough advice, unless the fellow happened to have -plenty of cash," he hazarded, with a quizzical look at the now flushed -and agitated Mr. Hickey. - -"Wouldn't they be good enough at that price?" inquired the engineer -excitedly. "Ought I--ought my friend to have paid more?" - -"I should say that was a fair price," said Sam mildly. "I don't believe -my wife has any feathers of that description on her hats." - -Mr. Hickey looked troubled. "Do you think I--er--told my friend the -correct thing to do?" he inquired humbly. "Of course I don't know much -about--feathers, or anything about women, for that matter." - -"That's where you're making a big mistake, Hickey, if you'll allow me to -say as much. You ought to marry some nice girl, man, and make her happy. -You'd find yourself happier than you have any idea of in the process." - -Mr. Hickey shook his head dubiously. "That may be so," he admitted. "I -don't doubt it, to tell you the truth; but I----. The fact is, Brewster, -I'm too far along in life to think of changing my way of living. I--I'd -be afraid to try it, for fear----" - -"Oh, nonsense, man! you're just in your prime. Be sure you get the right -woman, though; a real home-maker, Hickey; the kind who'll meet you at -night with a smile, and have a first-class dinner ready for you three -hundred and sixty-five days in the year." - -Mr. Hickey stared inscrutably at a passing truck. "Hum--ah!" he -ejaculated. "I--er--dare say you are right, Brewster. Quite so, in -fact. I--I'll think it over and let you know--that is, I----" - -Sam Brewster turned aside to conceal a passing smile. "The more you -think it over the better," he said convincingly; "only don't take so -much time for thinking that the other man'll cut you out." - -"Then there is another man!" exclaimed Mr. Hickey, with some agitation. -"I knew it; I felt sure of it. But how could it be otherwise?" - -Sam Brewster stared in amazement at the effect produced by his careless -speech. "There's always another man, George," he said seriously--though -he felt morally certain there wasn't, if Hickey was referring to Miss -Tripp. "But you want to get busy, and not waste time philandering." - - - - -XVI - - -The most unthinking observer could scarcely have accused Mr. Hickey of -"philandering" up to this point; inasmuch as he had not laid eyes on the -object of his thoughts--he would have demurred at a stronger word--for -upwards of a month. That same afternoon, however, he left his office at -the unwarranted hour of two o'clock, bearing a milliner's box in his -hand with unblushing gravity. - -It was after he had rung the bell at the Stanford residence that he felt -a fresh accession of doubt regarding the cerise plumes. After all, -Brewster had neglected to put his mind at ease upon that important -point. - -Miss Tripp was at home, the maid informed him, and showed him at once -into the drawing-room when Miss Tripp herself, charmingly gowned in old -rose, presently came in to greet him. - -Mr. Hickey caught himself gazing at the subdued tints of her toilet with -vague disapproval. It was not, he told himself, a stunning colour such -as was all the rage in Paris, New York and Boston. He felt exceedingly -complacent as he thought of the plumes awaiting her acceptance. - -"I wonder," Miss Tripp was saying brightly, "if you wouldn't like to see -my little kindergarten? To tell you the truth, Mr. Hickey, I shouldn't -venture to leave them to themselves, even to talk with you." - -She led the way to the library where they were greeted by a chorus of -joyous shouts. - -"You see," exclaimed Miss Tripp, "I am entertaining all five of the -children this afternoon. Elizabeth--Mrs. Brewster--wished to do some -shopping, so I offered to keep an interested eye on her three wee -lambkins." - -"We're playin' birdies, Mr. Hickey," said Doris, taking up the thread of -explanation, "Buddy and Baby Stanford are my little birdies; an' I'm the -mother bird, an' Carroll an' Robbie are angleworms jus' crawlin' round -on the ground. See me hop! Now I'm lookin' for a breakfast for my little -birds!" - -The two infants in a nest of sofa-pillows set up a loud chirping, while -the angleworms writhed realistically on the hearth-rug. - -"Now I'm goin' to catch one!" and Doris pounced upon Robbie Stanford. -"Course I can't really put him down my birdies' throats," she explained -kindly, "I just p'tend; like this." - -"Aw--this isn't any fun," protested her victim, as she haled him -sturdily across the floor. "You're pullin' my hair, anyway; leg-go, -Doris; I ain't no really worm." - -"You shouldn't say 'ain't,' dear," admonished Miss Tripp. "You meant to -say 'I'm not really a worm.' But I'm sure you've played birdie long -enough. We'll do something else now; what shall it be?" - -"Let's play reg'lar tea-party with lots an' lots o' things to eat," -suggested Master Stanford. "I'm hungry!" - -"Oh, no, dear; not yet; you can't be," laughed Miss Tripp. "We'll have a -tea-party, though, by and by, and you shall see what a nice surprise -Cook Annie has for you." - -"I like t' eat better 'n anything; don't you?" asked Doris, sidling up -to the observant Mr. Hickey, who was watching the scene with an -inscrutable smile. "I like to eat candy out of a big box." - -"Doris, dear," interrupted Miss Tripp tactfully, "wouldn't you like to -look at pictures a little while with the boys? Aunty Evelyn has some -pretty books that you haven't seen. Come here, dear, and help Aunty." - -"I'm tired o' pictures," objected Doris with a pout. "I want to play -train, or somethin' like that; don't you, Robbie?" - -"Don't want to play anythin' much; I'm tired o' bein' s' good, 'n' I'd -rather go up in the attic, or somewhere," and Master Stanford cast a -rebellious glance at his guardian. - -"Why don't you let them go out doors for a while," suggested Mr. Hickey, -coming unexpectedly to the rescue. - -"It's snowing a little; and I'm afraid Elizabeth would think it was -pretty cold for Richard," objected Miss Tripp. - -"It'll do 'em good," insisted Mr. Hickey, who was selfishly determined -to clear the decks for his own personal ends. He had somehow formulated -a very surprising set of resolutions as he sat watching Miss Tripp in -the discharge of her quasi maternal duties. Primus: It was a shame for a -sweet, attractive little woman to wear herself out caring for other -people's houses and children. Secundus: If there was another man in the -case (as Brewster had insinuated) he was determined to find it out -without further delay. Tertius: If not----. Mr. Hickey drew a long -breath. - -"Do you want to go out in the yard a little while?" Miss Tripp was -asking the children doubtfully. "It is Norah's afternoon out," she -explained to Mr. Hickey, "and I don't like to have them play out of -doors unless someone is with them to see that nothing happens. It is -such a responsibility," she added with a little sigh. "I had no idea of -it when I undertook it; I'm afraid I shouldn't have had the courage -to----. Oh, children; wait a minute! Let Aunty Evelyn put on your -overshoes--Robbie, dear!" - -"Come back here, young man!" commanded Mr. Hickey in a voice which -effectually arrested the wandering attention of Master Stanford. "Here, -I'll fix 'em up. If I can't, I'm not fit to put through another tunnel! -Here you, Miss Flutterbudget; is this your coat?" - -Miss Tripp flew to the rescue. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Hickey," she -murmured, flashing a mirthful glance of protest at the engineer. "But to -array four small children for out of doors on a winter day is vastly -more complicated than digging a tunnel. Wait, Doris; you haven't your -mittens." - -They were all ready at last, and Evelyn herded them carefully out into -the back yard and shut the latticed door leading to the street upon -them. - -"Now I must watch them every minute from the library window," she said -to Mr. Hickey. "You've no idea what astonishing things they'll think of -and--do. One ought to have the eyes of an Argus and the arms of a -Briareus to cope successfully with Robert." - -"Bright boy--very," observed Mr. Hickey absent-mindedly. "I--er--am very -fond of boys." - -"Oh, are you?" asked Evelyn with mild surprise, as she craned her neck -to look out of the window. "I hope they won't make their snow-balls too -hard. It is really dangerous when the snow is soft." - -"--Er--I wish you'd stop looking out of that window, Miss Tripp -and--er--give me your attention for about five minutes," said Mr. -Hickey, with very much the same tone and manner he would have employed -in addressing his stenographer. He told himself that he was perfectly -cool and collected, but unluckily in his efforts to visualise his inward -calm he succeeded in looking particularly stern and professional. -"I--er--called on a little matter of business this afternoon, Miss -Tripp, and I--to put it clearly before you--would like to recall to your -mind the day--something like a month ago, when you--when I--er--met you -and asked you to lunch with me. You may recall the fact?" - -Miss Tripp gazed at Mr. Hickey with some astonishment. Then she blushed, -wondering if he had found out that she had prevaricated in the matter of -a previous engagement. - -"I--remember; yes," she murmured. - -"It was a great disappointment to me at the time," he went on. "I wanted -to talk to you further. I wanted to--er--tell you----" He paused and -stole a glance at the pretty worn profile she turned toward him, as she -looked apprehensively out of the window. - -"The children are--playing very prettily together," she said. "And, see, -the sun has come out." - -"You--er--have known me a long time," he said huskily. "Once you -laughed at me because I was homely and--er--awkward, and since then----" - -She interrupted him with a little murmur of protest. "I was hoping you -had forgotten that," she said softly. - -"I have never forgotten anything that you said or did," he declared, -with the delightful though sudden conviction that this was strictly -true. "It really is singular, when you come to think of it; but it's a -fact. I don't know as I should have realised it though if I--if you----" - -She started to her feet with a little cry of alarm. "Something has -happened to Carroll!" she said. "I must go out and see." - -He followed her distracted flight with the grim resolve not to be balked -of his purpose. - -"Oh! what is it?" she was asking wildly of the other children, who -huddled crying about the small figure of Carroll which was flattened -against the iron fence, emitting strange and dolorous sounds of woe. - -"Aw--I tol' Carroll he didn't das' to put his tongue out on th' iron -fence; an' he did it; an' now he's stuck to it, 'n' can't get away," -explained Master Stanford with scientific accuracy. "I don't see why; -do you?" - -"Oh, you poor darling! What shall I do; can't you----" - -"Ah-a-a-a!" howled the victim, writhing in misery. - -"Hold on there, youngster!" shouted Mr. Hickey, whose experienced eye -had taken in the situation at a glance. "Wait till I get some hot water; -don't move, boys! Don't touch him, Evelyn!" - -It was the work of several moments to successfully detach the rash -experimenter from his uncomfortable proximity to the iron fence. But Mr. -Hickey accomplished the feat, with a patience and firmness which won for -him the loud encomiums of Mrs. Stanford's Irish Annie, who came out -bare-armed to assist in the operation. - -"Oh, you're the bad boy entirely!" she said to Robbie, who stared -open-mouthed at the scene from the safe vantage ground of the back -stoop. "Many's the time I've towld what would happen to yez if you put -yer tongue t' th' fence in cowld weather." - -"I wanted to see if it was true," said Master Stanford coolly. "You said -th' was a p'liceman comin' after me, an' th' wasn't, when I ate the -frostin' off your ol' cake." - -"If your mother was here she'd be afther takin' th' paddle to yez," said -Annie wrathfully. "I've a mind to do it meself." - -Master Stanford fled to the safe shelter of the library where Carroll, -ensconced on Mr. Hickey's knee, was being soothed with various -emollients and lotions at the hands of Miss Tripp. - -"I should never have known what to do," she said, looking up from her -ministrations to find Mr. Hickey's eyes fixed full upon her. "How could -you think so quickly?" - -"Because I tried it myself once upon a time," said Mr. Hickey. "It's -about the only way to learn things," he added somewhat grimly. "But I -wish our young friend had taken another day for improving his knowledge -on the subject of the prehensile powers of iron when applied to a moist -surface on a cold day." - -For some reason or other he felt very much neglected and correspondingly -out of temper as Miss Tripp ministered to the numerous wants of her -small charges during the half hour that followed. To be sure she poured -him a cup of tea (which he detested) and pressed small frosted cakes -upon him with the sweetest of abstracted smiles. - -"I must go at once," he bethought himself, as he refused a second cup. -"I--er--shall be late to my dinner." But he lingered gloomily while she -cheered the afflicted Carroll with warm milk well sweetened with sugar. - -"You'll find some--some feathers in a box in the hall," he informed her, -when he finally took his leave. "I wanted to tell you that -I--er--regretted exceedingly that I had injured yours with my umbrella -on the day we were to have lunched together and--didn't." - -Miss Tripp took the cerise plumes out of their wrappings and examined -them in the blissful security of her own room--this after the Brewster -children had gone home and the Stanford children were at last in bed and -safely asleep. - -"How-extraordinary!" she murmured, her cheeks reflecting palely the -vivid tints of the latest importation from Paris. - - - - -XVII - - -Having definitely abandoned the unthinking, hit-or-miss method of child -discipline practised by the generality of parents, Elizabeth Brewster -and her husband found themselves facing a variety of problems. To be -exact, there were three of them; Carroll, with his somewhat timid and -yielding, yet too self-conscious nature; Doris, hot-tempered, generous -and loving, and baby Richard, who already exhibited an adamantine -firmness of purpose, which a careless observer might have termed -stubbornness. There was another questionable issue which these -wide-awake young parents were obliged to face, and that was the entirely -unconfessed partiality which Elizabeth cherished for her first-born son -and the equally patent yet unacknowledged "particular affection" Sam -felt for his one small daughter. More than once in the past the two had -found themselves at the point of serious disagreement when the boy and -girl had come into collision; Sam hotly--too hotly--upholding the cause -of Doris, while Elizabeth was almost tearfully sure that her son had -not been in fault. Neither had taken the pains to trace these quite -human and natural predilections to their source; but they were agreed in -thinking the outcome unsafe. They determined, therefore, to defer to the -other's judgment in those instances when special discipline appeared to -be demanded by either child. - -All this by way of prelude to a certain stormy evening in March when Sam -Brewster, returning more tired than usual from a long day of hard work -in his office, found his Elizabeth with reddened eyelids and a general -appearance of carefully subdued emotion. - -"Well! I say," he began, as he divested himself of his wet coat and -kicked off his overshoes with an air bordering on impatience; "it's -beastly weather outside; hope none of it's got inside. Where are the -kiddies? And what is the matter with the lady of the house?" - -Elizabeth plucked up a small, faint smile which she bestowed upon the -questioner with a wifely kiss. - -"I've had a very trying time with Doris to-day," she said; "but I didn't -mean to mention it till after dinner." - -Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I shall at least have to change part of my -clothes, my dear," he said crisply. "I'll hear the catalogue of the -young lady's crimes when I'm dry, if you don't mind." - -The dinner was excellent, and there was a salad and a pudding which -elicited the warmest commendation from the head of the house. He was -aware, however, of an unbending attitude of mind upon the part of -Elizabeth and an unnatural decorum in the conduct of the children which -somewhat marred the general enjoyment. Sam eyed his small daughter -quizzically from time to time, as she sat with eyes bent upon her plate. - -"Well," he said at last, in his usual half-joking manner, "I hear there -have been ructions in this ranch since I left home this morning. What -have you been doing, Dorry, to make your mother look like the old lady -who makes vinegar for a living?" - -The little girl giggled as she stole a glance at her mother's face; then -she ran quickly to her father's side and nestled her hand in his. "I'm -always good when you're here, daddy," she said in a loud, buzzing -whisper. "I wish you stayed at home all th' time 'stead of mother." - -Elizabeth bit her lip with vexation, and Sam laughed aloud, his eyes -filled with a teasing light. - -"That appears to be a counter indictment for you, Betty," he said. -"Or--we might call it a demurrer--eh? Come, tell me what's happened to -disturb the family peace. I see it's broken all to bits." - -Elizabeth arose with unsmiling dignity. "Celia would like to clear the -table," she said; "I think we had better go into the sitting-room." - -She did not offer either accusation or explanation after they were all -seated about the blazing wood fire, which the Brewsters were agreed in -terming their one extravagance; for a few moments no one spoke. - -"I really hate to go into this matter of naughty deeds just now," began -Sam, stretching his slippered feet to the warmth with an air of extreme -comfort. "Couldn't we--er--quash the proceedings; or---- See here, I'll -tell you; suppose we issue an injunction and bind over all young persons -in this house to keep the peace. Well, now, won't that do, Betty?" - -"I'm really afraid it won't, Sam," said Elizabeth firmly. "I didn't -punish Doris for what she did this afternoon. It seemed to me that it -would be better for her to tell you about it herself. Something ought to -be done to prevent it from happening again; perhaps you will know what -that something is." - -Her face was grave, and she did not choose to meet the twinkle in her -husband's eyes. - -He lifted his daughter to his knee. "It's up to you, Dorry," he said; -"I'm all attention. Come, out with it. Tell daddy all about it." - -He passed his hand caressingly over her mane of silken hair and bent his -tall head to look into her abashed eyes. - -Thus encouraged the little girl nestled back into the circle of the -strong arms which held her, dimpling with anticipated triumph. - -"I was playin' mother," she began, "an' Carroll was my husban', an' Baby -Dick was my child. An'--an' Dick was naughty. He wouldn't mind me when I -told him to stop playin' with his cars an' come to mother. I spoke real -kind an' gentle, too: 'Put down your train an' come to mother, -darlin',' I said. But he jus' wouldn't, daddy. He said, 'No; I won't!' -jus' like that he said." - -"Hum!" commented her father. "And what did you do then?" - -"Well, you see, daddy, I was p'tendin' I was Mrs. Stanford; so 'course I -was 'bliged to punish Dick for not mindin'. I got mother's butter-paddle -an' I whipped him real hard, an' I said 'it hurts mother more 'n it -hurts you, darlin'!' Robbie says that's what his mother says when she -whips him. He says he don't b'lieve it. But Dick wasn't good after I -whipped him. He jus' turned 'round an' pulled my hair an' screamed--with -both han's he pulled it an' jerked it; then I--I bit him." - -"You--_what_, Doris?" - -"I bit him, jus' to make him let go. An'--an' he was softer'n I thought -he was. I never knew such a soft baby." - -The little girl hung her head before her father's stern look; her voice -threatened to break in a sob. "I didn't think--Dick--was--so--so full -of--juice," she quavered. - -"Did you really bite your dear little brother till the blood came, -Doris? I can't believe it!" - -Sam glanced inquiringly at his wife; but she held her peace, her eyes -drooped upon the sewing in her hands. - -"I--I didn't b'lieve it either--at first," Doris said quickly. "I -thought it was jus'--red paint." - -"Why, Doris Brewster!" piped up Carroll, unable to contain himself -longer; "that's a reg'lar fib!" - -"Had Dick been playing with red paint?" interrogated Sam gravely, his -eyes fixed upon the culprit who was beginning to fidget uneasily in his -arms. - -"N-o, daddy," confessed the child in a whisper. - -Her father considered her answer in silence for a moment or two; then he -looked over at his wife. - -"Elizabeth," he said. "Isn't it time for these young persons to go to -bed?" - -She glanced up at the clock. "I think it is, dear," she replied. -"But----" - -He checked her with a quick look. "I shall have to think this over," he -said, setting Doris upon her feet. Then he put his arm about his son and -kissed him. "Good-night, Carroll." - -Doris, dimpling and rosy, lifted her eager little face to her father's; -but he deliberately put her aside. - -"Aren't you going to kiss me, too, daddy?" wailed the child, in a sudden -passion of affection and something akin to fear. "I love you, daddy!" - -"I'm a little afraid of you, Dorry," her father said gravely. "I'm not -sure that you are entirely safe to--kiss." - -"But I wouldn't bite you, daddy! I _wouldn't_!" - -"Why wouldn't you?" - -"Because I--because I love you." - -"I always supposed you loved Baby Dick," said her father, turning away -from the piteous, grieved look in her eyes; "but it seems I was -mistaken." - -"But, daddy, I do! I do love Dick! I love him more'n a million, an'----" - -"Good-night, Doris." There was stern finality in Sam's voice, though his -eyes were wet. - -Elizabeth led the two children away, Doris shaken with sobs and Carroll -casting backward glances of troubled awe at his father who continued to -look steadily into the fire. - -He still sat in his big chair, his face more sober and thoughtful than -its wont, when his wife returned. - -"I'm afraid Doris will cry herself to sleep to-night," she said -doubtfully. - -He made no reply. - -"You wouldn't like to go up and kiss her good-night, Sam?" - -"Better one night than a hundred," he said, ignoring her suggestion. -Then he bent forward and poked the fire with unnecessary violence. "Poor -little girl," he murmured. - -A light broke over her face. "Do you think this is the natural penalty?" -she asked. - -A wailing sob floated down to them from above in the silence that -followed her question. - -"It was, perhaps, one of the penalties sure to follow a similar line of -conduct," he said slowly. "She'll remember it, you'll find, better than -one of Mrs. Stanford's whippings." - -[Illustration: "She'll remember it, you'll find, better than one of Mrs. -Stanford's whippings"] - -He turned to look at his wife with a smile. "'It hurts mother more than -it does you, darling!'" he quoted with a grimace. "I thought that -particular sort of cant was out of date. An irascible person who flies -into a rage and frankly administers punishment on the spot I can -understand. I used to get a thrashing of that sort about once in so -often from Aunt Julia; and I don't remember hating her for it. Where did -Marian dig up such rank nonsense?" - -"At her 'Mothers' Club,' I suppose," Elizabeth told him with a -disdainful curl of her pretty lips. "I went once and heard a woman say -that she always prayed with her child first and whipped him severely -afterward." - -"Beastly cant!" groaned Sam disgustedly. "I'm glad you don't go in for -that sort of thing, Betty." - -"It would drive me to almost anything, if I were a child and had to -endure it," Elizabeth said positively. - -Both parents were silent for a long minute, and both appeared to be -listening for the sound of muffled sobbing from above stairs. - -"You--you'll forgive her--to-morrow; won't you, Sam?" whispered -Elizabeth. - -"Forgive her?" he echoed. "You know I'm not really angry with her, -Betty; but if we can teach our small daughter through her affections to -control her passions, can't you see what it will do for the child? -Perhaps," he added under his breath, "that is what--God--does with us. -Sometimes--we are allowed to suffer. I have been, and--I know I have -profited by it." - -Sam Brewster was not one of those who talk over-familiarly of their -Maker. A word like this meant that he was profoundly moved. Elizabeth's -eyes dwelt on her husband with a trust and affection which spoke louder -than words. After a while she laid her hand in his. - -"If you would always advise me with the children," she murmured, "I'm -sure we could--help them to be good." - -"That is it, Betty," he said, meeting her misty look with a smile. "We -cannot force our children into goodness, or torture them into -wisdom--even if we can compel them to a show of submission which they -would make haste to throw off when they are grown. But we can help them -to choose the good, now and as long as we live. And we'll do it, little -mother; for I'm not going to shirk my part of it in the future. As you -said long ago, it's the most important thing in the world for us to do -just now." - - - - -XVIII - - -Perhaps because she had cried herself to sleep the night before, Doris -awakened late the next morning to find Carroll at her bedside completely -dressed and with the shining morning face which follows prolonged -scrubbing with soap and water. - -"Has daddy gone?" she inquired anxiously, as she rubbed the dreams out -of her brown eyes. - -"Not yet, sleepy-head," Carroll informed her; "but he's puttin' on his -overcoat this minute an' kissin' mother good-bye. I got up early," he -added complacently, "an' dressed myself all by my lone an' had my -breakfas' with daddy. I'm goin' to do it every mornin' after this. He -likes to have me." - -Sam Brewster, in the act of bestowing a final hasty kiss upon his -Elizabeth's flushed cheek, was startled by the sight of a small figure -in white with a cloud of bright hair which flew down the stairs and into -his arms with a loud wail of protest. - -"Kiss me good-bye, too, daddy! Kiss me!" - -Sam caught the little warm, throbbing body and held it close. "Father's -baby daughter," he whispered, bending his head to her pink ear. "She -shall kiss her daddy good-bye." - -"I'm goin' to be jus' as good to-day, daddy; I'm goin' to be gooder 'an -Carroll. 'N'--'n' I'll never, never bite anybody again; never in my -world. I promise!" - -Sam gazed fondly down at the sparkling little face against his breast. -"That's daddy's good girl!" he exclaimed heartily. "Do you hear that, -mother?" - -"Yes; I hear," Elizabeth said doubtfully. "I'm sure I hope Doris will -remember. Sometimes you forget so quickly, dear." - -"We all do that, Betty," Sam said gravely, as he surrendered the child -to her mother. - -His face was thoughtful as he hurried away down the street to catch his -car. To his surprise his friend Stanford swung himself aboard at the -next corner. - -"Why, hello, Stanford," he looked up from a hurried perusal of his paper -to say. "I didn't know you were home. When did you come?" - -"Last night," said the other, dropping into a seat beside his -neighbour. "The fact is, Marian couldn't stand it to be away from the -children another day. She was sure Rob would burn the house down with -everything in it, including the baby; or that some equally heartrending -thing would happen--it was a fresh one every day. It got on her nerves, -as she puts it; and finally on mine; so we gave up our trip to Santa -Barbara and came home literally post-haste. I was sorry, for I don't -know when we shall get another such chance. But you know how it is, -Brewster; a woman won't listen to rhyme or reason where her children are -concerned." - -"I understand," Sam agreed briefly; "my wife is the same way. But of -course you found everything in good order--eh? Miss Tripp appeared to be -all devotion to the children, and my wife kept a motherly eye on them." - -"Oh, everything was all right, of course; just as I told Marian it would -be: the children were in bed and asleep and everything about the place -in perfect trim. I'm sure we're a thousand times obliged to you and -Mrs. Brewster; Marian will tell you so. Er--by the way, our mutual -friend Hickey appeared to be calling upon Miss Tripp when we arrived, -and Marian insists that we interrupted some sort of important interview -by our untimely appearance. She said she felt it in the air. I laughed -at her. Of course I know as well as you do that Old Ironsides isn't -matrimonially inclined, and while Miss Tripp may be an excellent nurse -and housekeeper, she isn't exactly----" - -"H'm!" commented Sam non-committally, "there's no accounting for tastes, -you know. Hickey's a queer chap; queer as Dick's hat-band; but a good -sort--an all-round, square good fellow." - -"Sure! I believe you. But I had to laugh at my boy Robert. He's all -ears, and smarter than a steel trap. He overheard something of what my -wife was saying to me. 'Mr. Hickey doesn't come to see Miss Tripp,' he -puts in, as large as life; 'he comes to see me an' baby, 'specially me; -he comes most every day, an' he brings us candy an' oranges.' Isn't that -rather singular--eh?" - -"Not at all," Sam assured him warmly; "Hickey is very fond of children, -always has been. He's always dropping in to see Carroll and Doris. -Um--did you see this account of Judge Lindsay's doings in his children's -court? I've come across a number of articles about his work lately. -Seems to me it's mighty suggestive, the way he's gone to work to make -good citizens out of material which would otherwise fill the state -prisons; and it's all done through some sort of moral suasion -apparently. He gets into sympathy with those poor little chaps; climbs -down to their level, somehow or other; sees things through their eyes; -gets their point of view, and then deals with them as man to man--or boy -to boy. I believe he's got the matter of discipline--all sorts of -discipline--cinched. We're going to try some of his methods with our -children." - -Young Stanford stared for a moment at his neighbour, then he threw back -his head and chuckled. - -"I beg your pardon, Brewster," he exclaimed; "but it struck me as -being--er--a decidedly original idea, that of establishing a children's -court in your own home. Perhaps it was Mrs. Brewster's notion; Marian -tells me she's very--er--advanced, when it comes to disciplining the -children." - -Sam Brewster's blue eyes rested steadily upon his neighbour. - -"Singular as the statement may sound, I'm prepared to say that I'm -somewhat interested in my children's upbringing on my own account," he -said coolly. "My wife has notions, as you call them, and one of them is -that a father has quite as much responsibility in the training of the -children as the mother. I believe she's right." - -"Well, I can't see it that way," drawled Stanford. "I'm perfectly -willing to leave the kids to Marian while they're small; when they're -too big for her to handle I'll take 'em in hand. They'll obey _me_, -you'd better believe, from the word go. I think as my father did, that a -child ought to mind as though he were fired out of a gun." - -"It seems to me a child is a reasonable being, and has a reasoning -being's right to understand something of the whys and wherefores of his -obedience," protested Sam, vaguely aware that he was quoting the -opinions of someone else. "Besides that, don't they tell us a child's -character is pretty well formed by the time he is seven?" - -"Bosh!" exploded Stanford. "I wouldn't give a brass nickel for all the -theories you can bundle together. There were no sort of explanations or -mollycoddling coming to me, when I was a kid. It was 'do this, sir'; or -'don't do the other.' I can tell you, I walked a chalk-line till I was -sixteen. Why, gracious! if I'd attempted to argue and talk back to my -governor the way your boy talks to you--you needn't deny it, for I've -heard him myself--I'd have stood up to eat for a week. I've done it more -than once for simply looking cross-eyed, and I can tell you it did me -good." - -Sam Brewster eyed his companion with grave interest; there was no -animosity in his tone and merely a friendly interest in his face as he -inquired: - -"You walked a chalk-line till you were sixteen, you say; what did you do -then?" - -Young Stanford's handsome dark face reddened slightly. - -"I--er--well, you see I got red-hot at the pater one day because he--you -see I'd grown pretty fast and was as tall as he was, and--er--I balked; -thought I was too big to be thrashed, as I deserved. Why, you know what -I did as well as I do, Sam. I've always been ashamed of it, of course, -and of the trouble I made my mother. She was and is the best mother -ever, mild and sweet-tempered; but she couldn't handle _me_. Why, man, I -was a holy terror, and my boy Rob is exactly like me." He spoke -complacently, almost triumphantly. "I'll take it out of him, though. -Watch me!" - -"Then you don't think we could both learn a thing or two from Judge -Lindsay and other specialists about the way to manage and bring up our -boys?" persisted Sam, a slow twinkle dawning in his blue eyes. "We know -it all--eh? and don't require any enlightenment?" - -"I know enough to bring up my own boy, I should hope," responded -Stanford, with heat. "If he cuts up the way I did, I'll take it out of -his young hide some day; that's a sure proposition." - -"And then possibly, since he's so much like his father, he might -balk--when he gets tall enough--and he might not--come back in three -days, the way you did. Pardon me, old man, for speaking so plainly; but -as long as our children play together and go to school together, your -business and mine are one when it comes to their training. And if half -the rich men in the country can afford to spend most of their time and -millions of their dollars in improving the horses, cattle, pigs and -poultry of the country, you and I won't be exactly wasting our time if -we discuss child improvement occasionally." - -"That's where you're off, Brewster; the discipline of a man's own -children is a strictly private and personal matter. You'll excuse me if -I say just what I think, and that is that the methods I adopt with my -boy are none of your or any man's business." - -"And I'm obliged to differ with you there; the way you bring up your boy -is not only my business but everybody's business. It concerns the -neighbourhood, the state, the nation and the world." - -"Now you're ranting, my boy, and I can't listen to you. But I'll tell -you what I'll do; I'll tell Mrs. Stanford to get us both invitations to -attend the next of her 'mother's meetings.' I'll go, if you will, and -we'll hold forth on our respective ideas at length. How does that -strike you?" - -"As an eminently sensible and sane proposition," Sam said coolly, as he -rose to leave the car. "A parent's club--eh? A capital idea; well worth -working up. I'll see you later with regard to it." - -Stanford grinned derisively as he buried himself in the pages of his -newspaper. "Brewster's getting to be a bally crank," he told himself. -Then his eye fastened upon a paragraph heading with a reminiscent -thrill. "Boy of fifteen runs away from home in company with a -neighbour's son, after a disagreement with his father!" - -His rapid eye took in the details, meagre and commonplace, of the -missing lads and their home-life. - -"Young rascals!" he muttered, and passed on to the political situation -in which he was deeply interested. Curiously enough, though, that -paragraph concerning the runaway boys recurred to his mind more than -once during the day, bringing with it an unwontedly poignant -recollection of his own headlong flight and ignominious home-coming, -foot-sore and hungry after three days of wretched wandering. He had -never forgotten the experience and never would. It had done him a world -of good, he had since declared stoutly. But he shivered at the thought -of his own son alone and hungry in the streets of a great city. - - - - -XIX - - -Elizabeth was quite as busy as usual looking after the interests of her -small kingdom when Evelyn Tripp called that same morning. - -"I have come," she said, "to say good-bye." Then in answer to -Elizabeth's look of surprised enquiry, "The Stanfords came home quite -unexpectedly last evening, so I shall return to Dorchester this -afternoon. Mother has already gone; I've just been to the train with -her." - -Elizabeth surveyed her friend dubiously. "Perhaps you are not altogether -sorry on the whole," she said, "though the children have behaved -surprisingly well--for them." - -"The baby is a dear," agreed Miss Tripp warmly; "but I'm afraid I didn't -succeed very well with Robert. It seems to me the child's finer feelings -have been blunted someway. When I spoke seriously to him about his -unkindness to Carroll the other day, he made up a face at me. 'You can't -whip me,' he said, ''cause you aren't my mother.' - -"'Indeed I could whip, or hurt you in some other way, if I chose,' I -told him, 'and if you were a stupid little donkey who wouldn't go, or a -dog who couldn't be made to obey, I should certainly feel like switching -you; but you are a boy, and you are fast growing to be a man. I am -afraid, though, that you are not growing to be a gentleman.' - -"'I guess I'm a gentleman, too,' he said rudely. 'My grandfather's a -rich man, an' we're goin' to have all his money when he dies. We ain't -poor like you.'" - -"Shocking!" exclaimed Elizabeth; "what did you say to the child?" - -"I explained to him what a gentle-man really was; then I told him about -the knights of the Round Table. He is not really a bad child, Elizabeth; -but he will be, if---- I wonder if I might venture to talk plainly to -his mother?" - -"You may talk and she will listen, quite without impatience," -Elizabeth said, with a shrug of her shoulders. "But Marian is -somewhat--opinionated, to put it mildly, and she is very, very sure that -her own way is best. So I'm afraid it wouldn't do any good." - -She smiled speculatively as she looked at her friend. It seemed to her -that Evelyn was looking particularly young and pretty. There was a faint -flush of colour in her pale cheeks and her eyes shone girlishly bright -under their curtain of thick brown lashes. A sudden thought crossed -Elizabeth's mind. And without pausing to think, she put it into words. - -"Evelyn," she began, her own cheeks glowing, "I want you to stay with us -over night; I really can't let you go off so suddenly, without saying -good-bye to--to Sam, or--anybody," she finished lamely. "You must stay -to dinner, anyway; I insist upon that much, and I will send you to the -station in a cab." - -Evelyn shook her head. "It is very good of you, Betty," she said; "but I -really must go this afternoon. Mother will expect me." - -"Does--Mr. Hickey know you are going?" demanded Elizabeth, abandoning -her feeble efforts at finesse. - -The faint colour in Evelyn's cheeks deepened to a painful scarlet. She -met Elizabeth's questioning gaze bravely. - -"No--o," she hesitated; "but----" - -She paused, apparently to straighten out with care the fingers of her -shabby little gloves; then she looked up, a spark of defiance in her -blue eyes. - -"Elizabeth," she said, "I think I ought to tell you that Mr. Hickey has -asked me to marry him; but I----" - -"Oh, Evelyn! How glad I am!" - -"I refused him," said Miss Tripp concisely. - -"Refused him! but why? Sam thinks him one of the finest men he knows, -kind, good as gold, and very successful in his profession. You would be -so comfortable, Evelyn, and all your problems solved." - -Miss Tripp arose. She was looking both defiant and unhappy now, but -prettier withal than Elizabeth had ever seen her. - -"I don't want to be _comfortable_, as you call it, Betty," she said -passionately. "I--I want--to be _loved_. If he had even pretended -to--like me, even a little. But I--I had told him all about my -perplexities, I'm sure I can't imagine why--except that I pined for -something--sympathy, I thought it was, and he--offered me--money. Think -of it, Elizabeth! And when I refused, he--offered to marry me. He said -he could make me--comfortable!" - -Her voice choked a little over the last word. "Of course," she went on, -"I know I'm not young and pretty any more; but--but I--couldn't marry a -man who was just sorry for me, as one would be sorry for a forlorn, lost -ki-kitten!" - -"He does love you, Evelyn; I'm sure he does," Elizabeth said -convincingly. "Only he--doesn't know how to say so. If I could only----" - -Miss Tripp looked up out of the damp folds of her handkerchief. - -"If you should repeat to Mr. Hickey anything I have told you in -confidence, Elizabeth, I think I should die of shame," she quavered. -"Promise me--promise me you won't speak of it to anyone!" - -Elizabeth promised at once, with an inward reservation in favour of Sam, -who could, she was sure, bring order out of this sudden and unexpected -chaos in her friend's affairs. - -"I am positive that you are mistaken, Evelyn," she repeated, as she -embraced and kissed her friend at parting. "I wish you would change your -mind." - -But Evelyn shook her head with the gentle obstinacy which Elizabeth -remembered of old. "I seldom change my mind about anything," she said; -"and in this case I simply couldn't. Good-bye dear, dear Betty; and -thank you a thousand times for all your kindness to me." - -She turned to wave a slim hand to Elizabeth, who stood watching her -departure with a curious mingling of exasperation and regret. - -A whiff of familiar perfume greeted her upon re-entering the -sitting-room and her eyes fell at once upon Evelyn's muff, which she had -deposited upon the floor beside her chair and quite evidently forgotten. -It was a handsome muff of dark mink, a relic of Evelyn's more fortunate -days. Elizabeth stood caressing it absent-mindedly, wondering how she -could best restore it to its owner without vexatious delay, when her -eyes fell upon Carroll and Doris coming in at the front gate with joyous -hops, skips and jumps indicative of the rapture of release from school. - -"Here, dears!" she exclaimed, "Aunty Evelyn has just gone, and she has -left her muff; take it and run after her; then come directly home. Your -lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes." - - - - -XX - - -All that Evelyn Tripp had said to Elizabeth was entirely true; her -feelings had been hurt--outraged, she again assured herself, as she -hurried away, her eyes blurred with tears of anger and self-pity. Yet -deep down in her heart she felt sure that George Hickey loved her for -herself alone, and that all was not over between them. She had refused -him, to be sure, and in no uncertain terms; but that he was not a man to -be daunted by difficulties, she remembered with a little thrill of -satisfaction. All had not been said when their interview was terminated -by the unlooked-for arrival of the Stanfords; and he had said at -parting, "I must see you again--soon. I wish to--explain. I will come -to-morrow." - -He would come; she was sure of it, and as she pictured his vexed -astonishment at finding her already gone, her eyes filled with fresh -tears. "He doesn't even know my Dorchester address," she murmured with -inconsistent regret. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she did -not hear a masterful step on the sidewalk behind her; but at the sound -of his voice she glanced up without the least surprise. It appeared to -Evelyn that Mr. Hickey's presence at that particular instant was in full -accord with the verities. - -"I was afraid you might be leaving early," he said directly, his eyes -searching her face with an open anxiety that filled her with a warm -delight. "I--er--found that I could not apply myself to business as I -should this morning, so I thought best to--er--see you without delay." - -Evelyn's head dropped; a faint smile flitted about her lips. - -"Indeed, I am just leaving this afternoon," she said, in a voice that -trembled a little in spite of her efforts to preserve an easy society -manner. - -"And you were going without--letting me know," said Mr. Hickey, in the -tone of one who derives an unpleasant deduction from an undeniable fact. -He looked down at her suddenly. "Did you, or did you not intend giving -me the chance to--er--continue our conversation of last evening?" he -asked with delightful sternness. - -She was sure now that he loved her; but her day had been long in coming -and she could not resist the temptation to enjoy it slowly, lingeringly, -as one tastes an anticipated feast. - -"I thought," she murmured indistinctly, "that there was nothing more -to--say." She was deliciously frightened by the look that came into his -deep-set eyes. - -"I asked you to marry me," he said deliberately, "and you--refused. I -want to know your reasons. I must know them. I am not in the habit of -giving up what I want, easily," he went on, his brows meeting in a -short-sighted frown, which raised Evelyn to the seventh heaven of -anticipated bliss. "I've always gotten what I wanted--sooner or later. I -want--you, Evelyn, and--and it's getting late. I'm forty-two, and -you----" - -She blushed resentfully, for at that moment she felt twenty, no older. -Nevertheless, something in her downcast face must have encouraged him. - -"Won't you take pity on me, dear?" he entreated. "I'm old and ugly to -look at, I know; but I _want you_, Evelyn." - -She would have answered him then; the words trembled upon her lips. - -"Aunty Evelyn! Aunty Evelyn!" - -The two shrill little voices upraised in urgent unison pierced the -confused maze of her thoughts. She looked around, not without a wilful -sense of relief to see the two older Brewster children running toward -her brandishing a muff, which she presently recognised as one of her own -cherished possessions, un-missed as yet since her brief visit with -Elizabeth. - -"Mother found it on the floor after you'd gone, an' she said for us to -run after you an' give it to you," Carroll began, with a large sense of -his own importance. "Doris wanted to carry it; but I was 'fraid she'd -drop it in the wet. I didn't drop it, Aunty Evelyn; but Doris threw some -snow at me, an' it got on the muff, an' I stopped to brush it off. I -thought we'd never catch up." - -Doris had snuggled her small person between Mr. Hickey and Miss Tripp, -where she appropriated a hand of each in a friendly and impartial way. - -"I guess girls know how to carry muffs better'n boys," she observed -calmly. "Carroll was too fresh; that is why I threw snow at him." - -"Why, Doris dear, where did you ever learn such an expression?" murmured -Miss Tripp, vaguely reproving. - -Doris gazed up at her mentor with an expression of preternatural -intelligence. - -"Why, don't you know," she explained; "folks is too fresh when they make -you mad, an' make you cry. Who made you cry, Aunty Evelyn? Did Mr. -Hickey?" - -"I wish you'd find out for me, Doris," said that gentleman gloomily. -"I'd give anything to know." - -Miss Tripp gazed about her with gentle distraction, as if in search of -an entirely suitable remark with which to continue the difficult -conversation. Finding no inspiration in the expanse of slushy street, or -in the dull houses which bordered it on either side, she turned bravely -to Mr. Hickey. - -"I think," she said in a low voice, "that the children really ought to -go home to--to--their luncheon." - -Her eyes (quite unknown to herself) held an appeal which filled him with -unreasoning satisfaction. - -"You are entirely right," he agreed joyfully; "the children should go -home immediately. They must be in need of food. Go home, children, at -once. You are hungry--very hungry." - -"Oh, no, we're not," warbled Doris. "An' we like to walk with you an' -Aunty Evelyn. Mother said our lunch wouldn't be ready for fifteen -minutes. We won't have to go home for quite a while yet." - -At this Mr. Hickey laughed, more loudly than the humour of the situation -appeared to demand. "Very good," he said firmly; "that being the case, -I'll say at once what I had in mind without further delay; for I'm -anxious to let the whole world know that I love you, Evelyn, and I hope -you'll allow me to go on loving you as long as I live." - -The events which followed immediately upon this bold statement Elizabeth -learned as a result of her somewhat bewildered questionings, when her -two children, breathless and excited from a competitive return, flung -their small persons upon her at their own door. - -"Now you just let me tell, Carroll Brewster, 'cause I got here first; -Aunty Evelyn said----" - -"We gave Aunty Evelyn her muff," said Carroll, taking unfair advantage -of Doris' breathless condition. "And what do you think, mother, Doris -said I was too fresh to Aunty Evelyn, and she said----" - -"Aunty Evelyn cried when we gave her the muff, an' she said----" - -"Aunty Evelyn didn't cry 'cause we gave her the muff," interpolated -Carroll, with superior sagacity. "She was cryin' to Mr. Hickey, an' he -said----" - -"He said he'd give me most anythin'--a great big doll with real hair or -a gold ring, or anythin' at all if I'd find out why Aunty Evelyn was -cryin'." - -"But, Doris dear, Mr. Hickey wasn't with Aunty Evelyn; was he?" asked -Elizabeth, a fine mingling of reproof and eager curiosity flushing her -young face. - -"Mr. Hickey didn't say a big doll with real hair, or a gold ring," -Carroll interrupted indignantly. "You just made up that part, Doris." - -"I didn't make it up either; I thought it," retorted Doris. "He said -he'd give me anythin' at all, an' I guess a great big doll with real -hair is anythin'. So there!" - -"I don't understand, children," murmured the smiling Elizabeth, who was -beginning to understand very well, indeed. "You should have come home at -once, instead of stopping to talk to Aunty Evelyn. Your luncheon is -waiting." - -"That's what Aunty Evelyn said," put in Carroll reproachfully, "an' Mr. -Hickey said 'Go home at once, children; you're very hungry.' An' I was -going; but Doris, she wouldn't go. She----" - -"I wasn't a bit hungry then; but I am now, an' I smell somethin' good," -observed that young lady, sniffing delicately. - -"She said she wasn't in any hurry, an' I guess Mr. Hickey didn't like -it. Anyway he laughed, an' he took right hold of Aunty Evelyn's hand, -an' she cried some more." - -"She didn't cry 'cause he squeezed her hand. She said 'I thought you -didn't really like me.' An' Mr. Hickey----. Now don't int'rupt, -Carroll; it's rude to int'rupt; isn't it, mother? Mr. Hickey said 'Yes, -I do too!' Jus' like that he conterdicted." - -"An' then Doris said, 'it's rude to conterdict,' right out to Mr. Hickey -she said. That was an awful imp'lite thing for Doris to say; wasn't it, -mother? I said it was." - -"But Aunty Evelyn said _sometimes_ it wasn't rude to conterdict. -An'--'n' she said she was glad Mr. Hickey conterdicted; 'cause she was -'fraid he wasn't goin' to; an' then----" - -"She told us to run along home an' tell our mother she was very much -mistaken this mornin'." - -"No; she said to say our mother was perfec'ly right, an' she was----" - -"Well, that's jus' exac'ly what I said. What did Aunty Evelyn mean, -mother? An' why did Mr. Hickey make her cry?" - -Elizabeth wiped a laughing tear or two from her own eyes. "I'm glad -Aunty Evelyn found out that I was right," was all she said. "Now come, -children, and let mother wash your hands. Celia has baked a beautiful -gingerbread man for Carroll's lunch and a beautiful gingerbread lady -for Doris and a cunning little gingerbread baby for Baby Dick." - -"Oh, goody! goody!" shouted the children in ecstatic chorus. - -In a trice their singular encounter with Aunty Evelyn and Mr. Hickey was -forgotten in eager contemplation of the more obvious and immediate -future of the gingerbread man, the gingerbread lady and the gingerbread -child; each of whom, plump and shining, reposed in the middle of a pink -china plate, their black currant eyes widely opened upon destiny. - - - - -AFTERWORD - - -It will be easily perceived by the intelligent reader that there really -isn't any end to this story. The chronicler is forced to leave the -problems of the Brewster parents unsolved in many details, while the -Brewster children, in company with the present generation of young -Americans, are still growing up;--growing up, it is devoutly to be -hoped, into better men and women than their parents. Stronger -physically, more alert mentally, of clearer vision; better fitted to -carry the world's burdens and direct the world's activities. Unless the -Brewsters accomplish this much for their children they have failed in -the greatest thing given them to do; for it is not more wealth, better -houses, finer raiment that the world is crying out for, but better, -healthier and more inspired men and women. And, clearly, it rests with -the fathers and mothers as to whether their children shall reach this -higher level toward which humanity weakly struggles with tears and -groans. Is love and brotherhood to rule in a world wherein all the -finer qualities of mind and heart find room to grow and flourish? Or is -humanity to go on its old, old weary way, hating and being hated; the -strong trampling the weak under foot; the child often suffering from -ignorance and injustice--even in its own home; and growing up to carry -on the same false ideas. - -There is much to be said on both sides of this question of child -government, and the writer of this little tale does not even pretend to -have said the last word. But let this much be remembered: "Spare the rod -and spoil the child," was spoken in the days when polygamy and -concubinage were the rule in the home. "Folly is bound up in the heart -of the child; but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him," -was the dictum of an age whose customs would not be tolerated in these -days of higher civilisation and more illumined vision. The rack and the -thumb-screw, the gag, the branding-iron and the scourge have passed; we -shiver at the mere mention of the tortures inflicted upon human flesh in -those past ages of darkness; yet "the rod of correction" is still -tolerated--nay, even complacently advocated in our homes, though it has -been routed from our schools. Isn't it out of date? Doesn't it belong in -the museums with those ancient and rust-eaten instruments of torture? - -Listen to this other saying, from a newer inspiration, a closer -fellowship with The Light of the World: "There is no fear in love; but -perfect love casteth out fear, because fear hath punishment; and he that -feareth is not made perfect in love." And this, from the fountainhead of -all wisdom: "And He took a little child and set him by his side and said -unto them, 'Whosoever shall receive this little child in my name -receiveth me; and whosoever shall receive me receiveth him that sent me; -_for he that is least among you all, the same is great_.'" - -I submit this to you: Is it possible to conceive of Jesus Christ as -striking a little child? - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THOSE BREWSTER CHILDREN*** - - -******* This file should be named 52302-8.txt or 52302-8.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/2/3/0/52302 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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