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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d3f2c56 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #54910 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54910) diff --git a/old/54910-8.txt b/old/54910-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a41db2a..0000000 --- a/old/54910-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9185 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rising Tide, by Margaret Deland - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Rising Tide - -Author: Margaret Deland - -Illustrator: F. Walter Taylor - -Release Date: June 15, 2017 [EBook #54910] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISING TIDE *** - - - - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -THE RISING TIDE - -BY -MARGARET DELAND - -AUTHOR OF - -_The Iron Woman_, _Dr. Lavendar's People_ ETC. - - -ILLUSTRATED BY - -F. WALTER TAYLOR - - "_No doubt but ye are the people, - and wisdom shall die with you._" - - Job xii, 2 - -[Illustration: Logo] - -HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS -NEW YORK AND LONDON - - -[Illustration: FREDERICA] - - - - -BOOKS BY MARGARET DELAND - - THE RISING TIDE. Illustrated. Post 8vo - - AROUND OLD CHESTER. Illustrated. Post 8vo - - THE HANDS OF ESAU. Illustrated. Post 8vo - - OLD CHESTER TALES. Illustrated. Post 8vo - - AN ENCORE. Illustrated. 8vo - - DR. LAVENDAR'S PEOPLE. Illustrated. Post 8vo - - GOOD FOR THE SOUL. 16mo - - THE AWAKENING OF HELENA RICHIE. Illustrated. Post 8vo - - PARTNERS. Illustrated. Crown 8vo - - R. J.'S MOTHER. Illustrated. Post 8vo - - THE COMMON WAY. 16mo - - THE IRON WOMAN. Illustrated. Post 8vo - - THE VOICE. Illustrated. Post 8vo - - THE WAY TO PEACE. Illustrated. 8vo - - WHERE THE LABORERS ARE FEW. Ill'd. 8vo - - -HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK - - -THE RISING TIDE - -Copyright, 1915, 1916, by Harper & Brothers -Printed in the United States of America -Published August, 1916 - - -TO -LORIN DELAND - -AUGUST 12, 1916 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - -FREDERICA _Frontispiece_ - -"LET ME EXPLAIN IT," FREDERICA'S MAN OF BUSINESS -SAID ... AND PROCEEDED TO PUT THE PROJECT INTO -WORDS OF THREE LETTERS _Facing p._ 22 - -HOWARD DID NOT NOTICE HER PREOCCUPATION. HE -WAS POURING OUT HIS PLANS, LAURA PUNCTUATING -ALL HE SAID WITH CRIES OF ADMIRATION AND -ENVY " 108 - -"DID YOU SEE THAT FISH JUMP?" HE ASKED. FREDERICA -GAVE A DISGUSTED GRUNT " 140 - - - - -THE RISING TIDE - - - - -CHAPTER I - - -A single car-track ran through Payton Street, and over it, once in a -while, a small car jogged along, drawn by two mules. Thirty years ago -Payton Street had been shocked by the intrusion upon its gentility of a -thing so noisy and vulgar as a street-car; but now, when the rest of the -town was shuttled with trolleys and clamorous with speed, it seemed to -itself an oasis of silence. Its gentility had ebbed long ago. The big -houses, standing a little back from the sidewalk, were given over to -lodgers or small businesses. Indeed, the Paytons were the only people -left who belonged to Payton Street's past--and there was a barber shop -next door to them, and a livery-stable across the street. - -"Rather different from the time when your dear father brought me here, a -bride," Mrs. Payton used to say, sighing. - -Her daughter agreed, dryly: "I hope so! Certainly nobody would live on -Payton Street now, if they could afford to buy a lot in the cemetery." - -Yet the Paytons, who could have bought several lots in the cemetery (or -over on the Hill, either, which was where they belonged!), did not leave -the old house--a big, brownstone cube, with a belvedere on top of it -that looked like a bird-cage. The yard in front of the house was so -shaded by ailanthus-trees that grass refused to grow there, and an iron -dog, guarding the patch of bare earth, was spotted with mold. - -The street was very quiet,--except when the barber's children squabbled -shrilly, or Baker's livery-stable sent out a few funeral hacks, or when, -from a barred window in the ell of the Payton house, there came a noisy -laugh. And always, on the half-hour, the two mules went tinkling along, -their neat little feet cupping down over the cobblestones, and their -trace-chains swinging and sagging about their heels. The conductor on -the car had been on the route so long that he knew many of his patrons, -and nodded to them in a friendly way, and said it was a good day, or too -cold for the season; occasionally he imparted information which he -thought might be of interest to them. - -On this October afternoon of brown fog and occasional dashes of rain he -enlightened a lady with a vaguely sweet face, who signaled him to stop -at No. 15. - -"Miss Payton's out," he said, pulling the strap over his head and -bringing his car to a standstill; "but her ma's at home. I brought the -old lady back on my last trip, just as Miss Freddy was starting off with -that pup of hers." - -"It's the 'old lady' I've come to see," his fare said, smiling, and, -gathering up her skirts, stepped down into the Payton Street mud. The -bell jangled and the mules went clattering off over the cobblestones. - -Mrs. William Childs, picking her way to the sidewalk, said to herself -that she almost wished Freddy and her dog were at home, instead of the -"old lady." - -"Poor dear Ellen," she thought, in amiable detachment from other -people's troubles; "she's always asking me to sit in judgment on -Fred--and there's nothing on earth I can do." - -It occurred to her as she passed under the dripping ailanthus-trees and -up the white marble door-steps that Payton Street was a gloomy place for -a young creature like Frederica to live. "Even my Laura would kick," she -thought; her thoughts were often in her Laura's vernacular. In the dark -hall, clutching at the newel-post on which an Egyptian maiden held aloft -a gas-burner in a red globe, she extended a foot to a melancholy mulatto -woman, who removed her rubbers and then hung her water-proof on the rack -beside a silk hat belonging to the late Mr. Payton--kept there, Mrs. -Childs knew, to frighten perennially expected burglars. - -"Thank you, Flora," she said. "Has Mr. Weston come yet?" When Flora -explained that Mr. Weston was not expected until later, she started -up-stairs--then hesitated, her hand on the shoulder of the Egyptian -maiden: "Mr. Mortimore--he's not about?" - -"Land, no, Mis' Childs!" the woman reassured her; "he don't ever come -down 'thout his ma or Miss Carter's along with him." - -Mrs. Childs nodded in a relieved way, and went on up to the -sitting-room where, as she had been warned, she and Mr. Arthur Weston, -one of the trustees of what was popularly known as "the old Andy Payton -estate," were to "sit in judgment." "It _is_ hard for Fred to have -Mortimore in the house," she thought, kindly; "poor Freddy!" - -The sitting-room was in the ell, and pausing on the landing at the steps -that led up to it, she looked furtively beyond it, toward another room -at the end of the hall. "I wonder if Ellen ever forgets to lock the door -on her side?" she thought;--"well, Nelly dear, how are you?" she called -out, cheerfully. - -Mrs. Payton, bustling forward to meet her, overflowed with exclamations -of gratitude for her visit. "And such unpleasant weather, too! I do hope -you didn't get your feet damp? I always tell Freddy there is no surer -way to take cold than to get your feet damp. Of course she doesn't -believe me, but I'm used to that! Is William's cold better? I suppose -he's glad of an excuse to stay indoors and read about Bacon and -Shakespeare; which was which? I never can remember! Now sit right down -here. No, take this chair!" - -The caller, moving from one chair to another, was perfectly docile; it -was Ellen's way, and Mrs. Childs had long ago discovered the secret of a -peaceful life, namely, always, so far as possible, to let other people -have their own way. She looked about the sitting-room, and thought that -her sister-in-law was very comfortable. "Laura would have teased me to -death if I had kept my old-fashioned things," she reflected. The room -was feminine as well as old-fashioned; the deeply upholstered chairs -and couches were covered with flounced and flowery chintz; on a green -wire plant-stand, over-watered ferns grew daily more scraggy and anemic; -the windows were smothered in lambrequins and curtains, and beadwork -valances draped corner brackets holding Parian marble statuettes; of -course there was the usual womanish clutter of photographs in silver -frames. On the center-table a slowly evolving picture puzzle had pushed -a few books to one side--pretty little books with pretty names, _Flowers -of Peace_ and _Messages from Heaven_, most of them with the leaves still -uncut. It was an eminently comfortable room; indeed, next to her -conception of duty, the most important thing in Mrs. Andrew Payton's -life was comfort. - -Just now, she was tenaciously solicitous for Mrs. Childs's ease; was she -warm enough? Wasn't the footstool a little too high? And the fire--dear -me! the fire _was_ too hot! She must put up the screen. She wouldn't -make tea until Mr. Weston came; yes, he had promised to come; she had -written him, frankly, that he had simply got to do something about -Freddy. "He's her trustee, as well as mine, and I told him he simply -_must_ do something about this last wild idea of hers. Now! isn't it -better to have the screen in front of the fire?" - -Mrs. Childs said the screen was most comfortable; then added, in -uncertain reminiscence, "Wasn't Mr. Weston jilted ages ago by some -Philadelphia girl?" - -"Oh, dear, yes; so sad. Kate Morrison. She ran off with somebody else -just a week before they were to be married. Horribly awkward for him; -the invitations all out! He went to Europe, and was agent for Payton's -until dear Andrew died. You are quite sure you are not too warm?" - -"No, indeed!" Mrs. Childs said. "How is Mortimore?" It was a perfunctory -question, but its omission would have pained Mortimore's mother. - -"_Very_ well!" Mrs. Payton said; her voice challenging any one to -suspect anything wrong with Mortimore's health. "He knew Freddy to-day; -he was in the hall when she went out; he can't bear her dog, and he--he -scolded a little. I'm sure I don't blame him! I hate dogs, myself. But -he knew her; Miss Carter told me about it when I came in. I was so -pleased." - -"That was very nice," her visitor said, kindly. There was a moment's -silence; then, glancing toward a closed door that connected the -sitting-room with that room at the end of the ell, she said, -hesitatingly: "Nelly dear, don't you think that perhaps Freddy wouldn't -be so difficult, if poor Mortimore were not at home? William says he -thinks--" - -"My son shall never leave this house as long as I am in it myself!" Mrs. -Payton interrupted, her face flushing darkly red. - -"But it _is_ unpleasant for Fred, and--" - -"'Unpleasant' to have her poor afflicted brother in the house? Bessie, I -wouldn't have thought such a thing of you! Let me tell you, once for -all, as I've told you many, many times before--never, while I live, -shall Mortimore be treated cruelly and turned out of his own home!" - -"But William says they are not cruel, at--at those places; and -Mortimore, poor boy! would never know the difference." - -"He would! He would! Didn't I tell you he recognized his sister to-day? -His sister, who cares more for her dog than she does for him! And he -almost always knows me. Bessie, you don't understand how a mother -feels--" she had risen and was walking about the room, her fat, worn -face sharpening with a sort of animal alertness into power and -protection. The claws that hide in every maternal creature slipped out -of the fur of good manners: "We've gone all over this a hundred times; I -know that you think I am a fool; and _I_ think that you--well, never -mind! The amount of it is, you are not a mother." - -"My dear! What about my three children?" - -"Three healthy children! What do you know of the real child, the -afflicted child, like my Mortimore? Why, I'd see Freddy in her grave -before I'd--" She stopped short. "I--I love both my children exactly the -same," she ended, weakly. Then broke out again: "You and I were brought -up to do our duty, and not talk about it whether it was pleasant or -unpleasant. And let me tell you, if Freddy would do her duty to her -brother, as old Aunt Adelaide did to her invalid brother, she'd be a -thousand times happier than she is now, mixing up with perfectly common -people, and talking about earning her own living! Yes, that's the last -bee in her bonnet,--Working! a girl with a good home, and nothing on -earth to do but amuse herself. She uses really vulgar words about women -who never worked for their living; you and me, for instance. -'Vermin'--no, 'parasites.' Disgusting! Yes; if Freddy was like her -great-aunt Adelaide--" Mrs. Payton, sinking into a chair bubbly with -springs and down, was calmer, but she wiped her eyes once or twice: -"Aunt Adelaide gave up her life to poor Uncle Henry. Everybody says she -had lots of beaux! I heard she had seven offers. But she never dreamed -of getting married. She just lived for her brother. And they say _he_ -was dreadful, Bessie; whereas my poor Mortimore is only--not quite like -other people." Mrs. Childs gasped. "When Morty was six months old," Mrs. -Payton said, in a tense voice, "and we began to be anxious about him, -Andrew said to the doctor, 'I suppose the brat' (you know men speak so -frankly) 'has no brains?' and Dr. Davis said, 'The intellect is there, -Mr. Payton, but it is veiled.' That has always been such a comfort to -me; Morty's intellect is _there_! And besides, you must remember, -Bessie, that even if he isn't--very intelligent, he's a _man_, so he's -really the head of the family. As for Freddy, as I say, if she would -follow her aunt Adelaide's example, instead of reading horrid books -about things that when _I_ was a young lady, girls didn't know existed, -she'd be a good deal more comfortable to live with. Oh, dear! what am I -going to do about her? As I wrote to Mr. Weston, when I asked him to -come in this afternoon, what are we going to do about her?" - -"What has poor Fred done now?" Fred's aunt asked, trying patiently to -shut off the torrent of talk. - -Mrs. Payton drew a long breath; her chin was still unsteady. "It isn't -so much this last performance, because, of course, in spite of what Mama -says, everybody who knows Freddy, knows that there was--nothing wrong. -But it's her ideas, and the way she talks. Really, Bessie--" - -"My dear, they all talk most unpleasantly!" - -Mrs. Payton shook her fair head. "Your Laura doesn't. I never heard -Lolly say the sort of things Freddy does. She calls her father -'Billy-boy,' I know, but that's only fun--though in our day, imagine us -calling our fathers by a nickname! No, Bessie, it's Freddy's taste. It's -positively low! There is a Mrs. McKenzie, a scrubwoman out at the Inn, -and she is--_you_ know? It will be the seventh, and they really can -hardly feed the six they have. And Freddy, _a young girl_, actually told -Mrs. McKenzie she ought not to have so many children!" - -"Well, Ellen, if there are too many now, it does seem--" - -"But, Bessie! A girl to speak of such things! Why, you and I, before we -were married, didn't know--still, there's no use harking back to our -girlhood. And as for the things she says!... Yesterday I was speaking of -the Rev. Mr. Tait, and she said: 'I haven't any use for Tait; he has no -guts to him.'" - -Mrs. Childs was mildly horrified. "But it's only bad taste," she excused -her niece. She was fond of this poor, troubled sister-in-law of -hers--but really, what was the use of fussing so over mere bad taste? -Over really serious things, such as keeping that dreadful Mortimore -about, Ellen didn't fuss at all! "How queer she is," Mrs. Childs -reflected, impersonal, but kindly; then murmured that if she had been -unhappy about her children's slang, she'd have been in her grave by this -time; "You should hear my boys! And, after all, Ellen, Fred's a good -child, in spite of this thing she's done (you haven't told me what it is -yet). She's merely like all the rest of them--thinks she knows it all. -Well, we did, too, at her age, only we didn't say so. Sometimes I think -they are more straightforward than we were. But I made up my mind, years -ago, that there was no use trying to run the children on my ideas. -Criticism only provoked them, and made me wretched, and accomplished -nothing. So, as William says, why fuss?" - -"Fred is my daughter, so I have to 'fuss.'" - -"Well," said Mrs. Childs, patiently, "what is it?" - -"Hasn't Laura told you? Mama says everybody is talking about it." - -"No; she hasn't said anything." - -"My dear, Freddy spent the night at the Inn, with Howard Maitland." - -"_What!_" - -"His car broke down--" - -"Oh, an accident? You can't blame Fred for that. But why didn't they -take the trolley?" - -"They just missed the last car." - -"Well, they were two careless children, but you wouldn't have had them -walk into town, twelve miles, at twelve o'clock at night?" - -"I certainly would! Freddy is always telling me I ought to walk to keep -my weight down--so why didn't she walk home? And as for their being -children, she is twenty-five and I am sure he is twenty-seven." - -She paused here to wonder about Mr. Maitland: curious that he liked to -live alone in that big house on the hill! Pity he hadn't any -relatives--a maiden aunt, or anybody who could keep house for him. His -mother was a sweet little thing. Nice that he had money. - -"He ought to marry," said Mrs. Childs. - -"Of course," said Mrs. Payton; and dropped young Maitland to go back to -the Inn escapade: "Mama was so shocked when she heard about it that she -thought William ought to go and see Mr. Maitland and tell him he must -marry her. Of course, that is absurd--Mama belongs to another -generation. Freddy did take the trouble to telephone me; but Flora took -the message--poor Flora! she's so dissatisfied and low-spirited. I wish -she'd 'get religion'--that keeps servants contented. Miss Carter says -she's in love with one of the men at the livery-stable. But he isn't -very devoted. Well, I was in bed with a headache (I've been dreadfully -busy this week, and pretty tired, and besides, I had worked all the -evening on a puzzle, and I was perfectly worn out); so Flora didn't tell -me, and I didn't know Freddy hadn't come home until the next morning. It -appears she was advising Mrs. McKenzie as to the size of her family, and -when Mr. Maitland found he couldn't make his motor go, and told her they -must take the trolley, she just kept on instructing Mrs. McKenzie! So -they missed the car. She admitted that it was her fault. Well, then--oh, -here is Mr. Weston!" - -He came into the room, dusky with the fog that was pressing against the -windows, like a slender shadow; a tall, rather delicate-looking man in -the late forties, with a handsome, whimsical face, which endeavored, -just now, to conceal its boredom. - -"Criminal not present?" he said, shaking hands with the two ladies and -peering near-sightedly about. - -"Oh, she's off with her dog, walking miles and miles, to keep from -getting fat," Mrs. Payton said. She sat down at her tea-table, and -tried, fussily, to light the lamp under the kettle. "It's wicked to be -fat, you know," she ended, with resentful sarcasm; "I wish you could -hear Fred talk about it!" - -"I wish I could," Frederica's man of business said, lifting a humorous -eyebrow; "I always like to hear Fred talk. Let me fix that lamp for you, -Mrs. Payton. I hope I'm thin enough to be moral?" - -The two ladies regarded him with maternal eyes, and Mrs. Childs -recommended a glass of milk at bedtime. - -"Be sure it is pasteurized," she warned him; "my William always says -it's perfect nonsense to fuss about that--but I say it's only prudent." - -"Must I pasteurize my whisky, too?" he said, meekly; "I sometimes take -that at bedtime." It occurred to him that when he had the chance he -would tell Freddy that what with pasteurized milk, and all the other -improvements upon Nature, her children would be supermen; "they'll say -they were evolved from us," he reflected, sipping his tea, and listening -to his hostess's outpourings about her daughter, "as we say we were -evolved from monkeys." - -Not that Mrs. Payton--telling him, with endless illustrations, just how -"impossible" her Freddy was--looked in the least like a monkey; she was -a large, fair, dull lady, of fifty-seven or thereabouts, who never took -any exercise, and credited the condition of her liver to Providence; but -she was nearly as far removed from Miss Frederica Payton as she was from -those arboreal ancestors, the very mention of whom would have shocked -her religious principles, for Mrs. Payton was very truly and humbly -religious. - -"And church--Freddy never goes to church," she complained. "She plays -tennis all Sunday morning. Rather different from our day, isn't it, -Bessie? We children were never allowed even to read secular books on -Sunday. Well, I think it was better than the laxity of the present. We -always wore our best dresses to church, and--" - -"May I have some more tea, Mrs. Payton?" her auditor murmured, and, the -tide of reminiscence thus skilfully dammed, Freddy's offense was finally -revealed to him. "Well," he said,--"yes, cream please; a great deal! I -hope it's pasteurized?--they were stupid to lose the car. Fred told me -all about it yesterday; it appears she was talking to some poor woman -about the size of her family"--the two ladies exchanged horrified -glances;--"of course, Maitland ought to have broken in on eugenics and -hustled her off. But an accident isn't one of the seven deadly sins, -and--" - -"Oh," Fred's mother interrupted, "_of course_ there was nothing wrong." - -Mr. Weston looked at her admiringly; she really conceived it necessary -to say such a thing! Those denied ancestors of hers could hardly have -been more direct. It occurred to him, reaching for another lump of -sugar, that Frederica came by her talent for free speech honestly. "With -her mother, it is free thought. Fred goes one better, that's all," he -reflected, dreamily. Once or twice, while the complaints flowed steadily -on, he roused himself from his amused abstraction to murmur sympathetic -disapproval: "Of course she ought not to say things like that--" - -"She is impossible!" Mrs. Payton sighed. "Why, she said 'Damn,' right -out, before the Rev. Mr. Tait!" - -"Did she damn Tait? I know him, and really--" - -"Well, no; I think it was the weather. But that is nothing to the way -she talks about old people." - -"About me, perhaps?" - -"Oh no; really, no! About you?" Mrs. Payton stammered; "why--how could -she say anything about you?" - -Arthur Weston's eyes twinkled. ("I'll make her tell me what it was," he -promised himself.) - -"As for age," Mrs. Childs corroborated, "she seems to have no respect -for it. She spoke quite rudely to her uncle William about Shakespeare -and Bacon. She said the subject '_bored_' her." - -Mr. Weston shook his head, speechless. - -"And she said," Mrs. Childs went on, her usual detachment sharpening for -a moment into personal displeasure, "she said the antis had no brains; -and she knows I'm an anti!" - -"Oh, my dear," Fred's mother condoled, "I'm an anti, and she says -shocking things to me; once she said the antis were--I really can't say -just what she said before Mr. Weston; but she implied they were--merely -mothers. And as for her language! I was saying how perfectly shocked my -dear old friend, Miss Maria Spencer, was over this Inn escapade; Miss -Maria said that if it were known that Freddy had spent the night at the -Inn with Mr. Maitland her reputation would be gone." - -Mr. Weston's lips drew up for a whistle, but he frowned. - -"I told Freddy, and what do you suppose she said? Really, I hesitate to -repeat it." - -"But dear Ellen," Mrs. Childs broke in, "it was horrid in Miss Spencer -to say such a thing! I don't wonder Freddy was provoked." - -"She brought it on herself," Mrs. Payton retorted. "Have another -sandwich, Bessie? What she said is almost too shocking to quote. She -said of my dear old friend--Miss Spencer used to be my school-teacher, -Mr. Weston--'What difference does it make what she said about me? -Everybody knows Miss Spencer is a silly old ass.' 'A silly old ass.' -What do you think of _that_?" Mrs. Payton's voice trembled so with -indignation that she did not hear Mr. Weston's gasp of laughter. But as -she paused, wounded and ashamed, he was quick to console her: - -"It was abominably disrespectful!" - -"There is no such thing as reverence left in the world," said Mrs. -Childs; "my William says he doesn't know what we are coming to." - -"Youth is very cruel," Mr. Weston said. - -Mrs. Payton's eyes filled. "Freddy is cruel," she said, simply. The -wounded look in her worn face was pitiful. They both tried to comfort -her; they denounced Freddy, and wondered at her, and agreed with Mr. -Childs that "nobody knew what we were coming to." In fact, they said -every possible thing except the one thing which, with entire accuracy, -they might have said, namely, that Miss Spencer was a silly old ass. - -"When I was a young lady," Mrs. Payton said, "respect for my elders -would have made such words impossible." - -"Even if you didn't respect them, you would have been respectful?" Mr. -Weston suggested. - -"We reverenced age because it was age," she agreed. - -"Yes; in those happy days respect was not dependent upon desert," he -said, ruefully. (Mrs. Childs looked at him uneasily; just what did he -mean by that?) "It must have been very comfortable," he ruminated, "to -be respected when you didn't deserve to be! This new state of things I -don't like at all; I find that they size me up as I am, these -youngsters, not as what they ought to think I am. One of my nephews told -me the other day that I didn't know what I was talking about." - -"Oh, my dear Mr. Weston, how shocking!" Mrs. Payton sympathized. - -"Well, as it happened, I didn't," he said, mildly; "but how outrageous -for the cub to recognize the fact." - -"Perfectly outrageous!" said his hostess. "But it's just as Bessie says, -they don't know the meaning of the word 'respect.' You should hear -Freddy talk about her grandmother. The other day when I told her that -my dear mother said that if women had the ballot, chivalry would die -out and men wouldn't take off their hats in elevators when ladies were -present,--she said, 'Grandmother belongs to the generation of women who -were satisfied to have men retain their vices, if they removed their -hats.' What do you think of that! I'm sure I don't know what Freddy's -father would have said if he had heard his daughter say such a thing -about his mother-in-law." - -Mr. Weston, having known the late Andy Payton, thought it unwise to -quote the probable comment of the deceased. Instead, he tried to change -the subject: "Howard Maitland is a nice chap; I wonder if--" he paused; -there was a scuffle on the other side of the closed door, a bellowing -laugh, then a whine. Mrs. Childs bit her lip and shivered. Mr. Weston's -face was inscrutable. "I wonder," he continued, raising his voice--"if -Fred will smile on Maitland? By the way, I hear he is going in for -conchology seriously." - -"Mortimore is nervous this afternoon," Mrs. Payton said, hurriedly; -"that horrid puppy worried him. Conchology means shells, doesn't it? -Freddy says he has a great collection of shells. I was thinking of -sending him that old conch-shell I used to use to keep the parlor door -open. Do you remember, Bessie? Yes, Mr. Maitland is attentive, but I -don't know how serious it is. Of course, I'm the last person to know! -Rather different from the time when a young man asked the girl's parents -if he might pay his addresses, isn't it? Well, I want to tell you what -she said when I spoke to her about this plan of earning her living -(that's her latest fad, Mr. Weston), and told her that, as Mama says, it -isn't _done_; she--" - -"Oh, dear! There's the car coming," Mrs. Childs broke in, as the tinkle -of the mules' bells made itself heard. "Do hurry and tell us, Nelly; -I've got to go." - -"But you mustn't! I want to know what you think about it all," Mrs. -Payton said, distractedly; "wait for the next car." - -"I'm so sorry, dear Ellen, but I really can't," her sister-in-law -declared, rising. "Cheer up! I'm sure she'll settle down if she cares -about Mr. Maitland. (I'm out of it!" she was thinking.) But even as she -was congratulating herself, she was lost, for from the landing a fresh -young voice called out: - -"May I come in, Aunt Nelly? How do you do, Mr. Weston! Mama, I came to -catch you and make you walk home. Mama has got to walk, she's getting so -fat! Aunt Nelly, Howard Maitland is here; I met him on the door-step and -brought him in." - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -Laura Childs came into the quiet, fire-lit room like a little whirl of -fresh wind. The young man, looming up behind her in the doorway, -clean-shaven, square-jawed, honest-eyed, gave a sunshiny grin of general -friendliness and said he hoped Mrs. Payton would forgive him for butting -in, but Fred had told him to call for some book she wanted him to read, -and the maid didn't know anything about it. - -"I thought perhaps she had left it with you," he said. - -Mrs. Payton, conscious, as were the other two, of having talked about -the speaker only a minute before, expressed flurried and embarrassed -concern. She was so sorry! She couldn't imagine where the book was! She -got up, and fumbled among the _Flowers of Peace_. "You don't remember -the title?" - -He shook his head. "Awfully sorry. I'm so stupid about all these deep -books Fred's so keen on. Something about birth-rate and the higher -education, I think." - -Mrs. Payton stiffened visibly. "I don't know of any such book," she -said; then murmured, perfunctorily, that he must have a cup of tea. - -Again Mr. Maitland was sorry,--"dreadfully sorry,"--but he had to go. He -went; and the two ladies looked at each other. - -"_Do_ you suppose he heard us?" - -"I don't believe he did!" - -"Nice chap," said Mr. Weston. - -On the way down-stairs the nice chap was telling Laura that he had -caught on, the minute he got into that room, that it wasn't any social -whirl, so he thought he'd better get out. - -"They're sitting on Freddy, I'm afraid," Laura said, soberly; "poor old -Fred!" - -"Well, I put one over when I asked for that book! I bet even old -Weston's never read it! Neither have I. But Fred can give us all cards -and spades on sociology." - -"She's great," Laura agreed; "but the book isn't so awfully deep. Well, -I'm going back to root for her!" - -She ran up to the sitting-room again, and demanded tea. Her face, under -her big black hat, was like a rose, and her pleasant brown eyes glanced -with all the sweet, good-natured indifference of kindly youth at the -three troubled people about the tea-table. Somehow, quite unreasonably, -their depression lightened for a moment.... - -"No! No sugar, Aunt Nelly." - -"Do you want to be as thin as I am, Miss Laura?" Arthur Weston -remonstrated, watching her rub her cool cheek against her mother's, and -kiss her aunt, and "hook" a sandwich from the tea-table. One had to -smile at Laura; her mother smiled, even while she thought of the walk -home, and realized, despairingly, that the car was coming--coming--and -would be gone in a minute or two! - -"My dear, your father says all this fuss about exercise is perfect -nonsense. Really, I think we'd better ride," she pleaded with the -pretty creature, who was asking, ruthlessly, for lemon, which meant -another delay. - -"I'll ring, Auntie; Flora will get it in a minute. Mama, I bet you -haven't walked an inch this day! I knew you'd take the car if I didn't -come and drag you on to your legs," she ended, maliciously; but it was -such pretty malice, and her face was so gayly amiable that her mother -surrendered. "The only thing that reconciles me to Billy-boy's being too -poor to give us an auto," Laura said, gravely, "is that Mama would weigh -a ton if she rode everywhere. I bet you've eaten six cream-cheese -sandwiches, Mama? You'll gain a pound for each one!" - -"You'll be the death of me, Lolly," her mother sighed. "I only ate -three. Well, I'll stay a little longer, Ellen, and walk part way home -with this child. She's a perfect tyrant," she added, with tender, -scolding pride in the charming young creature, whose arch impertinence -was irresistible. - -"Take off your coat, my dear," Mrs. Payton said, patting her niece's -hand, "and go and look at my puzzle over on the table. Five hundred -pieces! I'm afraid it will take me a week yet to work it out;"--then, in -an aside: "Laura, I'm mortified that I should have asked Mr. Maitland -the title of that book before you,"--Laura opened questioning eyes;--"so -indelicate of Fred to tell him to read it! Oh, here's Flora with the -lemon. Thank you, Flora.... Laura, do you know what Freddy is thinking -of doing now?" - -"Yes, the real-estate business. It's perfectly corking! Howard Maitland -says he thinks she's simply great to do it. I only wish _I_ could go -into business and earn some money!" - -"My dear, if you will save some money in your own home, you will be just -as well off," Mrs. Childs said, dryly. - -"Better off," Mr. Weston ventured, "but you won't have so much fun. This -idea of Fred's is a pretty expensive way of earning money." - -"You know about it?" Mrs. Payton said, surprised. - -"Oh, yes; she broke it to me yesterday." - -"Just what is her idea?" Mrs. Childs asked, with mild impatience. - -"Let me explain it," Frederica's man of business said ... and proceeded -to put the project into words of three letters, so to speak. Fred had -hit on the fact that there are many ladies--lone females, Mr. Weston -called them; who drift about looking for apartments;--"nice old maids. I -know two of them at this minute, the Misses Graham, cousins of mine in -Grafton. They are going to spend the winter in town, and they want a -furnished apartment. It must be near a drug-store and far enough from an -Episcopal church to make a nice walk on Sundays--_fair_ Sundays. And it -must be on the street-car line, so that they can go to concerts, with, -of course, a messenger-boy to escort them; for they 'don't mean to be a -burden to a young man'; that's me, I'll have you know! 'A young man'! -When a chap is forty-six that sounds very well. Fred proposes to find -shelters for just such people." - -[Illustration: "LET ME EXPLAIN IT," FREDERICA'S MAN OF BUSINESS SAID ... -AND PROCEEDED TO PUT THE PROJECT INTO WORDS OF THREE LETTERS] - -The two ladies were silent with dismay and ignorance. Laura, sucking a -piece of lemon, and seeing a chance to "root," said, "How bully to have -an office! I'm going to make her take me as office boy." - -"The Lord only knows how she got the idea," Arthur Weston went on, "but -it isn't entirely bad. I confess I wish her ambition would content -itself with a post-office address, but nothing short of a real office -will satisfy her. She has her eye on one in the tenth story of the -Sturtevant Building; I am on the third, you know. But I think she can do -it all on her allowance, though rent and advertising will use up just -about all her income." - -"I will never consent to it," Mrs. Payton said, angrily. "It is absurd, -anyhow! Freddy, to hunt up houses for elderly ladies--_Freddy_, of all -people! She knows no more about houses, or housekeeping, than--than that -fire-screen! Just as an instance, I happened to tell her that I couldn't -remember whether I had seventy-two best towels and eighty-four ordinary -towels, or the other way round; I was really ashamed to have forgotten -which it was, and I said that as soon as I got time I must count them. -(Of course, I have the servants' towels, too; five dozen and four, with -red borders to distinguish them.) And Freddy was positively insulting! -She said women whose minds had stopped growing had to count towels for -mental exercise. When _I_ was a girl, I should have offered to count the -towels for my mother! As for her finding apartments for elderly ladies, -I would as soon trust a--a baby! Do you mean the Mason Grahams, Mr. -Weston? Miss Eliza and Miss Mary? Mama knows them. You've met them, too, -haven't you, Bessie? Well, I can only say that I should be exceedingly -mortified to have the Misses Graham know that any Payton girl was -behaving in such an extraordinary manner. The real-estate business! She -might as well go out as a servant." - -"She would make more money as a cook," he admitted. But he could not -divert the stream of hurt and angry objections. Once Mrs. Childs said to -tell Fred her uncle William would say it was perfect nonsense; and once -Laura whispered to Mr. Weston that she thought it would be great sport -to hunt flats for flatlings; to which he whispered back: "Shoal. 'Ware -shoal, Laura." - -There were many shoals in the distressed argument that followed, and -even Arthur Weston's most careful steering could not save some bumps and -crashes. In the midst of them the car came clattering down the street, -and after a while went clattering back; and still the three elders -wrangled over the outlaw's project, and Laura, sitting on the arm of her -mother's chair, listened, giggling once in a while, and saying to -herself that Mr. Weston was a perfect lamb--for there was no doubt about -it, he, too, was "rooting" for Fred. - -"I _must_ go," Mrs. Childs said, at last, in a distressed voice. "No, -Lolly, we haven't time to walk; we must take the car. Oh, Ellen, I meant -to ask you: can't you join my bridge club? There's going to be a -vacancy, and I'm sure you can learn--" - -"Oh, my dear, I couldn't possibly! I'm so busy; I haven't a minute--" - -"Well, think it over," Mrs. Childs urged. "And, Nelly dear, I know it -will be all right about Fred. I'm sure William would say so. Don't -worry!" - -But when the door closed upon the escaping aunt and the sympathizing -cousin, poor Mrs. Payton's worry overflowed into such endless details -that at last her hearer gave up trying to comfort her. When he, too, -made his escape, he was profoundly fatigued. His plea that Frederica -should be allowed to burn her fingers so that she might learn the -meaning of fire had not produced the slightest effect. To everything he -said Mrs. Payton had opposed her outraged taste, her wounded love, her -fixed belief in the duty of youth to age. When he ventured to quote that - - - "... it was better youth - Should strive, through acts uncouth, - Towards making, than repose on aught found made," - - -she said poetry was all very well, but that, perhaps, if the poet or -poetess who wrote that had had a daughter, they would think differently. -When she was reminded that she, too, had had different ideas from those -of her parents, she said, emphatically, _never!_--except in things where -they had grown a little old-fashioned. - -"I don't believe, when I was a girl, I ever crossed Mama in anything -more important than in little matters of dress or furnishings.... Oh, do -look at my puzzle before you go!" - -But Arthur Weston, almost dizzy with the endless words, had fled. -Down-stairs, while he hunted for his hat and coat, he paused to draw a -long breath and throw out his arms, as if he would stretch his cramped -mind, as well as his muscles, stiffened by long relaxing among the -cushions of the big arm-chair. - -"Is there anything in this world duller than the pronunciamento of a -dull woman!" he said to himself. On the street, for sheer relief of -feeling the cool air against his face, instead of the warm stillness of -Mrs. Payton's sitting-room, he did not hail the approaching car, but -strolled aimlessly along the pavement, sticky with fog. - -"I wonder if she talks in her sleep?" he said. "I don't believe she ever -stops! How can Fred stand it?" He knew he couldn't stand it himself. -"I'd sell pop-corn on the street corner, to get away from it--and from -Andy's old stovepipe!" It occurred to him that the ideals set forth in -Mrs. Payton's ceaseless conversation were of the same era as the hat. -"But the hat would fit Fred best," he thought--"Hello!" he broke off, -as, straining back on the leash of an exasperated Scotch terrier, a girl -came swinging around the corner of the street and caromed into him so -violently that he nearly lost his balance. - -"Grab him, will you?" she gasped; and when Mr. Weston had grabbed, and -the terrier was sprawling abjectly under the discipline of a friendly -cuff on his nose, she got her breath, and said, panting, "Where do you -spring from?" - -It was Frederica Payton, her short serge skirt splashed with mud, and a -lock of hair blown across her eyes. "He's a wretch, that pup!" she said. -"I'll give him to you for a present." - -"I wouldn't deprive you of him for the world!" he protested, in alarm. -"Here, let me have the leash." - -She relinquished it, and they walked back together toward Payton Street, -Zip shambling meekly at their heels. - -"Well," she said, thrusting a confiding arm in his, "were you able to -move her? Or did she turn Aunt Bessie loose on you, too? I knew Aunt -Bessie was to be asked to the funeral. I suppose she talked -anti-suffrage, and quoted 'my William' every minute? Aunt Bessie hasn't -had an idea of her own since the year one! Isn't it queer what stodgy -minds middle-aged women have? I suppose you are about dead?" - -"I have felt more lively. Fred, why can't you see your mother's side of -it?" - -"Why can't she see my side of it?" - -"But she thinks--" - -"But _I_ think! What I object to in Mother is that she wants me to think -her thoughts. Apart from the question of hypocrisy, I prefer my own." As -she spoke, the light of a street lamp fell full on her face--a wolfish, -unhumorous young face, pathetic with its hunger for life; he saw that -her chin was twitching, and there was a wet gleam on one flushed cheek. -"Besides," she said, "I simply won't go on spending my days as well as -my nights in that house. You don't know what it means to live in the -same house with--with--" - -"I wish you were married," he said, helplessly; "that's the best way to -get out of that house." - -She laughed, and squeezed his arm. "You want to get off your job?" she -said, maliciously; "well, you can't. I'm the Old Man of the Sea, and -you'll have to carry me on your back for the rest of your life. No -marriage in mine, thank you!" - -They were sauntering along now in the darkness, her arm still in his, -and her cheek, in her eagerness, almost touching his shoulder; her voice -was flippantly bitter: - -"I don't want a man; I want an occupation!" - -"But it isn't necessary, Fred. And besides, there are home duties." - -"In our house? Name 'em! Shall I make the soap, or wait on the table and -put Flora out of a job? Where people have any money at all, 'home -duties,' so far as girls are concerned, are played out. Machinery is the -cuckoo that has pushed women out of the nest of domesticity. I made that -up," she added, with frank vanity. "I haven't a blessed thing to do in -my good home--I suppose you heard that I had a 'good home'? which means -a roof, and food, so far as I can make out. But as there is something -besides eating and sleeping in this life, I am going to get busy outside -of my 'good home'!" - -He thought of the towels, but only murmured vaguely that there were -things a girl could do which were not quite so--so-- - -"'Unwomanly'? That's Mother's word. Grandmother's is 'unladylike.' No, -sir! I've done all the nice, 'womanly' things that girls who live at -home have to do to kill time. I've painted--can't paint any more than -Zip! And I've slummed. I hate poor people, they smell so. And I've taken -singing lessons; I have about as much voice as a crow. My Suffrage -League isn't work, it's fun. I might have tried nursing, but Grandmother -had a fit; that 'warm heart' she's always handing out couldn't stand the -idea of relieving male suffering. 'What!' she said, 'see a gentleman -entirely undressed, in his bed!' I said, 'It would be much more alarming -to see him entirely dressed in his bed'!" She paused, her eyes narrowing -thoughtfully; "it's queer about Grandmother--I don't really dislike her. -She makes me mad, because she's such an awful old liar; but she's no -fool." - -"That's a concession. I hope you'll make as much for me." - -"They were poor when she was a girl, and she had to do things--household -things, I mean; really _had_ to. So she has stuff in her; and, in her -way, she's a good sport. But she is narrow and coarse. 'See a gentleman -in his bed!' And she thinks she's _modest_! But poor dear Mother simply -died on the spot when I mentioned nursing. So I gave that up. Well, I -have to admit I wasn't very keen for it; I don't like sick people, -dressed or undressed." - -"They don't like themselves very much, Fred." - -"I suppose they don't," she said, absently. "Well, nursing really wasn't -my bat, so I have nothing against Mother on that lay. But you see, I've -tried all the conventional things, and I've made up my mind to cut 'em -out. Business is the thing for me. Business!" - -"But isn't there a question of duty?" he said. - -"Do you mean to Mortimore? Poor wretch! That's what Mother harps on from -morning to night. What duty have I to Mortimore? I'm not responsible for -him. I didn't bring him here. Mother has a duty to him, I grant you. She -owes him--good Lord! how much she owes him! Apologies, to begin with. -What right had she and 'old Andy Payton' to bring him into the world? I -should think they would have been ashamed of themselves. Father was old -and dissipated; and there was an uncle of his, you know, like Mortimore. -His 'intellect was there,' too, but it was very decidedly 'veiled'! I -suppose Mother worked the 'veiled intellect' off on you?" - -They had reached the Payton house by this time, and Frederica, her hand -on the gate, paused in the rainy dusk and looked into Arthur Weston's -face, with angry, unabashed eyes. "Don't talk to me about a duty to -Mortimore!" - -"I meant a duty to your mother. Think of what you owe your mother." - -"What do I owe her? Life! Did I ask for life? Was I consulted? Before I -am grateful for life, you've got to prove that I've liked living. So -far, I haven't. Who would, with Mortimore in the house? When I was a -child I couldn't have girls come and see me for fear he would come -shuffling about." He saw her shoulders twitch with the horror of that -shuffling. "It makes me tired, this rot about a child's gratitude and -duty to a parent! It's the other way round, as I look at it; the parent -owes the child a lot more than the child owes the parent. Did 'old Andy' -and Mama bring me into this world for _my_ pleasure? You know they -didn't. 'Duty to parents'--that talk won't go down," she said, harshly, -and snapped the gate shut between them. - -He looked at her helplessly. She was wrong, but much of what she had -said was right,--or, rather, accurate. But when, in all the history of -parenthood, had there been a time when children accused their fathers -and mothers of selfishness, and cited their own existence as a proof of -that selfishness! "Your mother will be very lonely," he said. - -She shook her head. "Mother doesn't need me in the least. A puzzle of a -thousand pieces is a darned sight more interesting than I am." - -"You are a puzzle in one piece," he said. - -"I'm not as much use to Mother as Father's old silk hat down in the -hall; _I_ never scared a burglar yet. I tell you what, Mother and I have -about as much in common as--as Zip and that awful iron dog! Mother -thinks she is terribly noble because she devotes herself to Mortimore. -Mr. Weston, she enjoys devoting herself! She says she's doing her duty. -I suppose she is, though I would call it instinct, not duty. Anyhow, -there's nothing noble about it. It's just nature. Mother is like a cat -or a cow; they adore their offspring. And they have a perfect right to -lick 'em all over, or anything else that expresses cat-love. But you -don't say they are 'noble' when they lick 'em! And cows don't insist -that other cows shall lick calves that are not theirs. Mortimore isn't -mine. Yes; that's where Mother isn't as sensible as a cow. She can give -herself up all she wants to, but she sha'n't give me up. _I_ won't lick -Mortimore!" She was quivering, and her eyes were tragic. "Why, Flora has -more in common with me than Mother, for Flora is at least -dissatisfied--poor old Flora! Whereas Mother is as satisfied as a -vegetable. That's why she's an anti. No; she isn't even a vegetable; -vegetables grow! Mother's mind stopped growing when her first baby was -born. Mother and I don't speak the same language. I don't suppose she -means to be cruel," she ended, "but she is." - -"Did it ever occur to you that you are cruel?" - -She winced at that; he saw her bite her lip, and for a moment she did -not speak. Then she burst out: "That's the worst of it. I _am_ cruel. I -say things--and then, afterward, I could kick myself. Yet they are true. -What can I do? I tell the truth, and then I feel as if I had--had kicked -Zip in the stomach!" - -"Stop kicking Zip anywhere," he admonished her; "it's bad taste." - -"But if I don't speak out, I'll _bust_!" - -"Well, bust," he said, dryly; "that's better than kicking Zip." - -Her face broke into a grin, and she leaned over the gate to give his arm -a squeeze. "I don't know how I'd get along without you," she told him. -"Darn that pup!" she said, and dashed after Zip's trailing leash. - -Arthur Weston, looking after her, laughed, and waved his hand. "How -young she is! Well, I'll put the office business through for her." - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -Somehow or other he did "put the office business through"; but the -persuading of Mrs. Payton was a job of many days. So far as opinions -went, he had to concede almost everything; of course Freddy's project -was "absurd"; of course "girls didn't do such things" when Mrs. Payton -was a young lady;--still, why not let Fred find out by experience how -foolish her scheme of self-support was? - -"It mortifies me to death," Mrs. Payton moaned. - -"I don't like it myself," he admitted. - -"What does Mr. Maitland say to it?" - -"She says he says it's 'corking,'" Arthur Weston quoted; "I wish they -would talk English! The smallness of their vocabulary is dreadfully -stupid. They think it is smart to be laconic, but it's only boring. Do -you think Fred cares about Maitland?" - -"I wish she did, but she isn't--human! Rather different from my girlhood -days! Then, a girl liked to have beaux. One of my cousins had a set of -spoons--she bought one whenever she had a proposal. I don't think Freddy -has had a single offer. I tell her it's because she cheapens herself by -being so familiar with the young men. Not an offer! But I don't believe -she's at all mortified. Well, it's just part of the 'newness' of -things. I dislike everything that is new! I wish Freddy would get -married."... - -"Why," Mr. Weston pondered, as, having wrung a reluctant consent from -Mrs. Payton, he closed the door of No. 15 behind him, "why do we -consider marriage the universal panacea?" But whether he knew why or -not, he believed it was a panacea, and even plotted awkwardly to -administer it to Frederica. Maitland was just the man for her; a good -fellow, straight and clean, and with money behind him. The worst of it -was that he could not be counted on to discourage Fred's folly; indeed, -he seemed immensely taken by all her schemes; the more preposterous she -was, the more, apparently, he admired her. He was as full of half-baked -ideas as Fred herself! But there was this difference between them: -Howard did not give you the sense of being abnormal; he was only -asinine. And every first-rate boy has to be an ass before he amounts to -anything as a man. - -But Fred was not normal. - -A week later, "_F. Payton_" had been painted on the index of the -Sturtevant Building, and Arthur Weston, pausing as he got out of the -elevator, glanced at the gilt letters with ironical eyes. He was about -to let the panels of the revolving door push him into the street when -Mr. William Childs entered and hooked an umbrella on his arm. - -"Hey! Weston! Most interesting thing: do you recall the twenty-third -Sonnet? You don't? Begins: - - - "'As an imperfect actor on the stage'; - - -I've made a most interesting discovery!" - -His prisoner, saying despairingly, "Really?" looked for a way of -escape--but the crook of the umbrella held him. - -"In a hurry? Hey? What? Well, I'll tell you some other time." Then the -umbrella was reversed and pointed to the index. "Perfec' nonsense! -What?" - -"Girls are very energetic nowadays," Mr. Weston murmured, rubbing his -arm. - -"She'd better put her energy into housekeeping!" - -"Then Mrs. Payton would have nothing to do." - -"Well, then let her get married, and keep house for herself,--instead of -laying down the law to her elders! She instructed me who I should vote -for, if you please! Smith is her man, because he believes in woman -suffrage. What do you think of that?" - -"I think she's a good deal like you or me, when we want a thing put -through." - -"No such thing! Smith is the worst boss this state ever had. I told her -so, and--Hey, there! Stop--I'm going up!" he called, wildly; and skipped -into the elevator. "Tell her to get married!" he called down to Arthur -Weston, who watched his ascending spats, and then let the revolving door -urge him into the street. "There it is again," he ruminated, "'get -married.' But girls don't marry for homes nowadays, my dear William. -There are no more 'Clinging Vines.' Mrs. Payton is one of the last of -them, and, Lord! what a blasted oak she clung to!" He had an unopened -letter from Mrs. Payton in his pocket, and as he sauntered along he -wondered whether, if it remained unopened for another hour or two, he -could lie truthfully to her and say he had not received it "in time" to -come and talk over Freddy. "For that's what she wants, of course," he -thought, dolefully; "it's a nice point of conscience. I'll go and sit in -the park and think it out. By the time I decide, it will be too late to -go--and then I'll open the letter! Why do women who have nothing to say, -always write long letters?"--he touched the envelope with an appraising -thumb and finger--"eight pages, all full of Freddy's sins!" - -Rambling toward the park in the warm November afternoon Arthur Weston -wondered just what was the matter with Fred. When, ten years before, he -had gone abroad to represent the Payton interests in France (and, -incidentally, to cure a heart which had been very roughly handled by a -lady whose vocation was the collecting of hearts), Frederica had been a -plain, boring, long-legged youngster, who disconcerted him by her silent -and persistent stare. She was then apparently like any other -fourteen-year-old girl--gawky, dull, and, to a blighted being of -thirty-six, entirely uninteresting. When he came home, nine years later -(heart-whole), to render an account of his Payton stewardship, it was to -find with dismay that "old Andy," just deceased, had expressed his -appreciation of services rendered by naming him one of the executors of -the Payton estate, and to find, also, that the grubby, silent girl he -had left when he went to Europe had shot up into a tall, rather angular -woman, no longer silent, and most provokingly interesting. She was still -plain, but she had one of those primitive faces which, while sometimes -actually ugly, are, under the stress of certain emotions, -extraordinarily handsome. She was never pretty; there was too much -thought in the jutting lines of her brow and chin, and her cheeks, -smudged sometimes with red, sometimes rigidly pale, had no dimpling -suggestion of a smile. Her gray, unhumorous eyes still held one by their -nakedly direct gaze, even while a bludgeon-like truthfulness of speech -made her hearers wince away from her. - -Now, except for her rather tiresome slang, she never bored Arthur -Weston; she merely bothered him--because he was so powerless to help -her. He found himself constantly wondering about her; but his wonder was -always good-natured; it had none of the bitterness which marked the -bewilderment of her elderly relatives, or the very freely expressed -contempt of her masculine cousins. Her man of business felt only -amusement, and a pity which made him, at moments, ready to abet her -maddest notions, just to give the wild young creature a little comfort. -Yet he never forgot Mrs. Payton's pain; for, no matter whether she was -reasonable or not, he knew that Freddy's mother suffered. - -"I'd like to shake Fred!" he said; "confound it, I run with the hare and -hunt with the hounds!" - -In the park, in his discouragement at the whole situation, he sat down -on one of the concrete benches by the lake, and looked at the children -and nursery-maids, and at two swans, snow-white on the dark water. He -wished he could feel that Fred was all right or her mother all wrong; -but both were right, and both were wrong. Nevertheless, he realized that -Fred's suffering moved him more than Mrs. Payton's. Think of having the -"veiled intellect" in the ell, "shuffling round" all the time! "But -that's life," he reminded himself. Duty handcuffs all of us to our -relations. Look at the historic Aunt Adelaide, who wouldn't take any of -her beaux--there were more of them every time Mrs. Payton talked of -Fred's shortcomings! Aunt Adelaide had turned her beaux down because of -this thing called Duty, a word which apparently conveyed nothing -whatever to the mind of her grandniece Miss Frederica Payton, who, -however, had her own word--_Truth_. A word which had once caused her to -describe Aunt Adelaide's self-immolation as "damned silly." - -Mr. Weston, looking idly at the swans curving their necks and thrusting -their bills down into the black water, felt that though Fred's taste was -vile, her judgment was sound--it _was_ silly for Aunt Adelaide to -sacrifice herself on the altar of a being absolutely useless to society. -Then he thought, uneasily, of the possible value to Aunt Adelaide's -character of self-sacrifice. "No," he decided, "self-sacrifice which -denies common sense isn't virtue; it's spiritual dissipation!" - -Then his mind drifted to Laura Childs; Laura was not so hideously -truthful as Fred, and her conceit was not quite so obvious; yet she, -too, was of the present--full of preposterous theories for reforming the -universe! Her activities overflowed the narrow boundaries of -domesticity, just as Fred's did; she went to the School of Design, and -perpetrated smudgy charcoal-sketches; she had her committees, and her -clubs, every other darned, tiresome thing that a tired man, coming home -from business, shrinks from hearing discussed, as he would shrink from -the noises of his shop or factory. "'The new wine's foaming flow'!--I -should think Billy-boy would spank her," Weston thought, -sympathetically. Furthermore, Laura detected, with affectionate -contempt, the weak places in her elder's armor of pompous authority. He -had heard her take off her father's "perfec' nonsense"! Her comments -upon her mother's lazy plumpness were as accurate as they were -disrespectful. Imagine girls back in the '70's, or even the '80's, doing -such things! Yet Laura differed, somehow, from Fred; she was--he -couldn't formulate it. He looked absently at the babies, and the -nursery-maids, and then the dim idea took shape: you could think of -Laura and babies together, but a baby in Frederica's arms was an -anomaly. Why? After all, she was a female thing; you ought to be able to -picture her with a baby. But you couldn't. "I wish," Arthur Weston -began;--but before he could decide exactly what he wished, out of the -brown haze across the park came young Maitland, swinging along, as -attractive a chap as you would see in a day's work. He hailed the older -man joyously, and, standing up before him with his hands in his pockets, -began to josh him unmercifully. - -"Is She late? I bet She's jealous of all these dames with white caps on! -You should choose a more secluded spot." - -"She is very late, Howard, and she will be later. She has got to have -little curls in the back of her neck, and be afraid of sitting here -without a chaperon. And she must have rubbers on, because there is no -surer way of taking cold than by having damp feet. And she must do all -that all her great-aunts have done. I won't accept her on any other -terms. So you see, I shall have to wait some time for her. In fact, I -have given her up. Sit down. I want to talk to you." - -Maitland sat down, and said he thought one of those hoop-skirted, -ringleted damsels would be a good deal of a peach. "You see the -photographs of 'em in old albums, and they certainly were pretty -things." - -"Howard, Freddy Payton's going into business. Did you know it?" - -"Yes; she's a wonder!" - -"She is," the other man agreed, dryly. - -"I was talking to Laura Childs about her last night, and she told me how -tough it was for her at home,--_you_ know?" - -Mr. Weston nodded. - -"And her mother is an anti!" Howard said, sympathetically. "I've only -seen Mrs. Payton once or twice, but it struck me she was the anti type. -Not very exciting to live with." - -"She does show considerable cerebral quietude," Weston admitted, -chuckling. - -"Did you ever make a call in the Payton house, and see old Andy Payton's -silk hat on the hat-rack?" - -"I have. But I'm not afraid of it;--there are no brains in it now." - -"Well, I told Laura I thought she was the finest woman I knew," Maitland -said, earnestly. - -"Who? Lolly?" - -"Heavens, no! Fred. She's no Victorian miss, I tell you what!" - -"The Victorians would send her to bed on bread and water." - -"I heard her make a speech to those striking garment-women," Fred's -defender said; "she told 'em to get the vote, and their wages would go -up. It was fine." - -"Whether it was true is immaterial?" - -Howard did not go into that. "And then, about morals; she talks to you -just like another man. There's none of this business of pretending she -doesn't know things. She knows as much about life as you or I." - -"Oh, I don't pretend to know as much as you," Arthur Weston deprecated, -lifting a humorously modest eyebrow. - -"She talks well, too, doesn't she?" Howard rambled on; "I don't know -what she's talking about sometimes, she's so confoundedly cultivated. -The other day I said something about that nasty uplift play that they -tried to pull off at the Penn Street Theater; and then I jerked myself -up, and sort of apologized. And Freddy said, 'Go ahead; what's eating -you?' And I said, 'Oh, well, I didn't know whether I ought to speak of -that sort of thing.' And she said, 'Only the truth shall make us free.' -That's out of the Bible, I believe." - -Mr. Weston nodded. "I know the book. I've even read it, which is -probably more than either you or Fred have done. I don't think it says -the truth shall make you free--and easy; does it?" - -Howard laughed, and got on his feet. "I'm going to beat up business for -her. I took her round in my car to look up apartments for those -relations of yours. Why doesn't Mrs. Payton have a car? Haven't they -money enough?" - -"Oh, yes. But that poor creature, the brother, has to go out in a -carriage. An auto would excite him, I suppose." - -"I see. I told Fred she ought to have a little motor of her own, just as -a matter of business." - -"Hold on!" Frederica's trustee remonstrated, in alarm. "Take her in your -car, if you want to, but please don't suggest one for her. She'd have to -put a mortgage on her office furniture to pay for a week's gasoline! -Look here, Howard--don't stand there like the Colossus of Rhodes, -looking down at me as if I only weighed as much as one of your -legs--tell me this: don't you see that this business of Fred's earning -her living is perfectly artificial? She has a little income, and she can -live on it; and when her mother dies, she'll have all the Payton money. -So it is entirely unnecessary for her to go to work, to say nothing of -the fact that she won't earn enough to buy her shoe-strings." - -"Oh, but," the young man burst out, "look at the principle involved! If -you live on inherited money, you're a parasite. I know I do it myself," -he confessed, frankly, "but I'm going to work as soon as I can get a -job. I'm going in for shells. And I believe in work for a woman just as -much as for a man. The trouble is that when a girl has money, there -isn't any _real_ work for her, so she has to manufacture an -occupation--like this social-service stunt at the hospitals they're so -hot on nowadays. Joe Gould--he's an interne--he told me the most of 'em -were nuisances. But, oh, how they enjoy it! They just lap it up. It -makes me a little fatigued to hear 'em talk about it," he said, yawning. -"Laura Childs doesn't talk much, but Gould says the patients like to -have her come round, because she's good to look at. But with most girls -it isn't real. And if a girl doesn't do real things, if she just amuses -herself, she'll go stale, just like a fellow. Fred put that up to me," -he explained, modestly. "I wouldn't have thought of it myself." - -"I bet you wouldn't!" Arthur Weston said; "but don't you see? Fred's own -occupation isn't real." - -"She's rather down on me because I'm not in politics," Howard said, -drolly; "did you ever notice that reformers don't take other people's -stunts very seriously? Fred has no use for shells. Laura thinks my -collection is great. But Fred says that it's only an amusement." - -"You might do worse," the older man told him; "but never mind that. What -I want to know is, why don't some of you fellows brace up and ask Freddy -to marry you?" - -"She wouldn't look at any of us. I don't know any man who could keep up -with her mentally! You ought to hear her talk." - -Mr. Weston raised a protesting hand. "Please! I've heard her." - -Maitland laughed and strode off into the dusk, leaving Arthur Weston to -sit and look at the swans. The nursery-maids and perambulators had gone; -the Chinese pagoda on the artificial island showed a sudden spark of -light, and the arc-lamps across the park sputtered into the evening -haze like lurching moons. The chill of the water and the night made him -shiver. That youngster was so big and up-standing and satisfied with -life! And certainly he was in love with Fred. - -"Then she'll be off my hands," Fred's man of business said; "what a -relief!" - -And life looked as bleak and uninteresting as the cold dusk of the -deserted park. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -"I never see her from morning till night," Mrs. Payton said. "Rather -different from my day! When I was a young lady, girls stayed indoors -with their mothers." - -Mrs. Payton's mother, stroking her white gloves down over her knuckly -fingers, shrugged her shoulders: "You didn't like 'those days' so very -much yourself, my dear. But of course Freddy is shocking. It isn't that -she has bad taste--she has no taste! All I hope is that she won't -publicly disgrace us. Bessie Childs says that her husband says this -business idea is perfect nonsense." - -The two ladies were in the double parlor on the left of the wide hall of -No 15. It was a gloomy place, even when the ailanthus-trees had lost -their leaves; the French windows were so smothered in plush and lace -that the gleam of narrow mirrors between them could not lighten the -costly ugliness. In its day the room had been very costly. The carpet, -with its scrolls and garlands, the ebony cabinets, picked out in -gilt--big and foolish and empty--the oil-paintings in vast, tarnished -frames, must all have been very expensive. There was an ormolu clock on -the black marble mantelpiece holding Time stationary at 7.20 o'clock of -some forgotten morning or evening; the bronzes on either side of it--a -fisher-maid with her string of fish, and a hunter bearing an antelope -on his shoulders--were dulled by the smoky years. Opposite the -fireplace, against the chocolate-brown wall-paper, Andrew Payton, on a -teakwood pedestal, glimmered in white marble blindness. Beside him, the -key-board of a grand piano was yellowing in untouched silence. The room -was so dim that Mrs. Holmes, coming in out of the sunshine, stumbled -over a rug. - -"You have such a clutter of things, Ellen," she complained, sharply. - -"It's lighter up-stairs," Mrs. Payton defended herself. - -"What did you say? Do speak more distinctly!" - -"I said it was lighter up-stairs. Come up, and I'll show you a puzzle -I've just worked out. Dreadfully difficult!" - -But Mrs. Holmes never went up-stairs in the Payton house; to be sure, -the door between the sitting-room and the room beyond it was always -locked, but--_you heard things_. So she said she couldn't climb the -stairs. "I'm getting old, I'm afraid," she said, archly. - -"I suppose you are very rheumatic?" her daughter sympathized; "why don't -you try--" - -"Not at all!" the older lady interrupted; "just a little stiff. Mrs. -Dale said her cousin thought you were my sister," she added, -maliciously. - -As far as clothes went, the cousin might have supposed Mrs. Holmes was -Mrs. Payton's daughter--the skirt in the latest ugliness of style, the -high heels, the white veil over the elaborate hair, were all far more -youthful than the care-worn mother of Frederica (and Mortimore) would -have permitted herself. - -"I've been so dreadfully busy," Mrs. Holmes declared; "I meant to come -in yesterday, but I had a thousand things to do! Bridge all afternoon at -Bessie Childs's. I played with young Mrs. Dale. She ought to get another -dressmaker." - -"Did you know Mr. Dale's aunt was dying?" Mrs. Payton said. - -Mrs. Holmes frowned. She was, as she often said, a very busy woman; she -kept house, made calls, had "fittings," shopped, and read the -newspapers. She did these things well and thoroughly, for, as her -granddaughter had once said, she "was no fool." She was shrewd, capable, -energetic, and entirely a woman of the world. Her daughter's social -seclusion and mental apathy amazed and irritated her. But intelligent -and busy as she was, she had leisure for one thing: _Fear_. She never -said of what. Nor would she, if she could help it, allow the name of her -Fear to be mentioned. "I always run away if people talk of unpleasant -things!" she used to say, sharply. The mere reference to Mr. Dale's aunt -made her pull her stole about her shoulders, and clutch for bags and -card-cases that were always sliding off a steep and slippery lap. - -"Why, Mama, you mustn't go," Mrs. Payton remonstrated, "you've just--" - -"I only stopped a minute to say that if you don't keep Freddy in order, -she will disgrace us all," Mrs. Holmes said, nervously; "but you keep -talking about unpleasant things! I am all heart, and I can't bear to -hear about other people's troubles." - -Mrs. Payton understood; she gave her mother a pitiful look. ("I believe -she'd like to live to be a hundred!" she thought; "whereas, if it wasn't -for poor Mortimore I'd be glad to go; I'm so--tired. And Freddy wouldn't -miss me.") All the while she was talking in her kind voice, of living, -not dying; of her intention of starting in early this year on her -Christmas presents--"I get perfectly worn out with them each Christmas!" -Of her cook's impertinence--"servants are really impossible!" Of Flora's -low-spiritedness--"Miss Carter says she's simply wild to get married, -but I can't think so; Flora is so refined." - -"Human nature isn't very refined," Mrs. Holmes said. - -"Miss Carter says she wants to take music lessons." - -"That's terribly refined," Mrs. Holmes said, satirically. - -"It's absurd," her daughter declared, with annoyance; "music lessons! -Rather different from the time I went to housekeeping--then, servants -worked! I gave Flora a lovely embroidered collar the other day; and yet, -the next thing I knew, Anne told me she was crying her eyes out down in -the coal-cellar. I went right down to the cellar, and said, 'You _must_ -tell me what's the matter.' But all I could get out of her was that she -was tired of living. Miss Carter says Anne says that Flora's young man -has married somebody else, and she--" - -"Don't mumble! It's almost impossible to hear you," her mother broke in; -"as for servants, there are no such things nowadays. They have men -callers, a thing my mother never tolerated! And they don't dream of -being in at ten. My seventh cook in five months comes to-morrow." - -"Don't you think you are rather strict--I mean about hours, and beaux, -and all that sort of thing? My three all have beaux--only poor Flora's -don't seem very faithful. Mama, don't you think you ought to see an -aurist? You really are a little--" - -"Not at all! I hear perfectly;--except when people mumble. And I shall -never change; my way of keeping house is the right way, so why should I -change?" - -"I couldn't keep my girls a week if I were as strict as you," Mrs. -Payton ventured. - -"It wouldn't be much loss, my dear!" the older woman said; she ran a -white-gloved finger along the top of the piano beside her, and held it -up, with a dry laugh. "You could eat off the floor in my house; but you -never were much of a housekeeper. However, I didn't come to talk about -servants; I came to tell you that I am going to call on those cousins of -Mr. Weston's, and explain that at any rate _I_ don't approve of my -granddaughter's going into business!" - -"I'm sure I don't, either!" poor Mrs. Payton protested. "I am dreadfully -distr--" - -"Why don't you tell her it isn't _done_? Why do you allow it?" Mrs. -Holmes demanded. - -Mrs. Payton raised protesting hands: "'Allow' Freddy?" - -"If you'd stop her allowance, you'd stop her nonsense. That is what I -would do if a daughter of mine cut such didos!" - -"I can't--she's of age. You can't control girls nowadays," Mrs. Payton -sighed. - -"She ought to be married," said Mrs. Holmes, clutching at the back of a -gilt chair as she got on to her shaking old legs; "though I can't -imagine any nice man wanting to marry a girl who talks as she does. -Maria Spencer told me she heard that Fred said that men ought not to be -allowed to marry unless they had a health certificate." - -Mrs. Payton gasped with horror. "Mama! are you _sure_? I can't believe-- -What _are_ we coming to?" - -"It mortified me to death," said Mrs. Holmes. ("Oh, do pick up that -card-case for me!) I wish Arthur Weston would marry her, but I suppose -he never got over that Morrison girl's behavior? No; the real trouble -is, you insist on living in this out-of-the-way place! Oh, yes, I know; -poor Mortimore. Still, the men won't come after her here, because it -looks as if she had no money--that, and her queerness. Really, you ought -to try to get her settled. You ought to move over to the Hill; but you -love that poor, brainless creature up-stairs more than you do Fred!" - -Mrs. Payton stiffened. "I love both my children just the same; and I -can't discuss Mortimore, Mama, with anybody. As for being brainless, -Doctor Davis always said, 'The intellect is _there_; but it is veiled.'" -The tears brimmed over. "You don't understand a mother's feelings, -Mama." - -Mrs. Holmes shrugged her shoulders and brushed a powdered cheek against -her daughter's worn face. "Good-by. Of course, you never take any -advice--I'm used to that! If I wasn't the warmest-hearted creature in -the world I should be very cross with you. I suppose you are terribly -lonely without Freddy?" - -"Oh, terribly," said Mrs. Payton. - -When Mrs. Holmes had gone, teetering uncertainly down the front steps to -her carriage, Freddy's mother, pausing a moment in the hall to make sure -that Mr. Andrew Payton's silk hat had been dusted, went heavily -up-stairs and sat down in her big cushioned chair. She wished that she -had something to do. Of course, there was that new puzzle--but sometimes -the thought of a puzzle gave her a qualm of repulsion, the sort of -repulsion one feels at the sight of the drug that soothes and disgusts -at the same moment. The household mending was a more wholesome anodyne; -but there was very little of that; she had gone all through Freddy's -stockings the day before, and found only one thin place. To-day there -seemed nothing to do but sit in her soft chair and think of Freddy's -shocking talk and how unkind Mrs. Holmes was about Mortimore. She knew, -in the bottom of her heart, that her son's presence was painful to -everybody except herself; she knew that Freddy didn't like to have -people call, for fear they might see him, and that her reluctance dated -back to her childhood. "But suppose she doesn't like it, what has that -got to do with it?" Morty's mother thought, angrily; "it's a question of -duty. Mama doesn't seem to remember that Freddy ought to do her duty!" -It came over Mrs. Payton, with a thrill of pride, that she herself had -always done her duty. Here, alone, with everything silent on the other -side of the bolted door, she could allow herself to think how well she -had done it! To Mortimore, first and foremost--she paused there, with a -pang of annoyance at her mother's words: "I do _not_ love him best!" she -declared. She did her duty to Freddy, just as much as to Morty. When -Fred had scarlet fever no mother could have been more devoted. She -hadn't taken her clothes off for four days and nights! Her supreme -dutifulness, however, a dutifulness of which she had always been acutely -conscious, was in enduring Andrew's behavior. "Some women wouldn't have -stood it," she thought, proudly. But what a good wife she had been! She -had let him have his own way in everything. When he was cross, she had -been silent. When he was drunk, she had wept--silently, of course. When -he had done other things, of which anonymous letters had informed her, -she had still been silent;--but she had been too angry to weep. She -shivered involuntarily to think what would have happened if she had not -been silent--if she had dared to remonstrate with him! For Andrew -Payton's temper had been as celebrated as the brains which had once -filled the now empty hat. "Some wives would have left him," she told -herself; "but I always did my duty! Nobody ever supposed that -I--_knew_." When Andrew died, and her friends were secretly rejoicing -over her release, how careful she had been to wear the very deepest -crape! "I didn't go out of the house, even to church, for three weeks, -and I didn't use a plain white handkerchief for two years," she -thought--then flushed, for, side by side with her satisfaction at her -exemplary conduct was a rankling memory--a memory which made her -constantly tell herself, and everybody else, that she "loved both her -children just the same." The remorse--for it amounted to that--began a -few weeks after Mr. Payton's death, when Freddy, listening to her -mother's pride in the black-bordered handkerchief, had flung out: "If -you told the truth, you'd use a flag for a handkerchief, and you'd go to -church to return thanks!" - -There had been a dreadful scene between the mother and daughter that -day. - -"As for 'mourning' him," Andrew Payton's daughter said, "you don't. It's -a lie to smother yourself in that horrid, sticky veil. You are mighty -glad to get rid of him! You were as afraid as death of him, and you -didn't love him at all. All this talk about 'mourning' is rot." - -Mrs. Payton cowered as if her daughter had struck her: "Oh, how can you -be so wicked!" - -"Is it wicked to tell the truth?" - -Mrs. Payton clasped and unclasped her hands: "I did my duty! But do you -suppose I've been _happy_?" Her breath caught in a sob. "I've lived in -hell all these years, just to make a home for you! I did my duty." - -"I should have thought 'duty' would have made you leave him," Frederica -said; "hell isn't a very good home for a child." She was triumphantly -aware that she had said something smart; her mother's wincing face -admitted it. "I suppose you were afraid to make a break while he was -alive," she said, "but why not tell the truth now?" - -Already the consciousness of self-betrayal had swept over Andy Payton's -wife; her face flamed with anger. "You had no business to make me say a -thing like that! You only tell the truth to hurt my feelings. _You are -just like Andrew!_" She looked straight at her daughter, her eyes fierce -with candor. "I love Mortimore best," she said, in a whisper. - -For a single instant they stared at each other like two strangers. The -mother was the first to come to herself. "I--I didn't mean that, Freddy. -I love you both alike. But it was wicked to speak so of your father." - -"I was a beast to hurt your feelings!" Frederica said; "and I don't in -the least mind your loving Mortimore best. But what I said about Father -is true; his being my father doesn't alter the fact that he was horrid. -Mother, you _know_ he was horrid! Don't let's pretend, at any rate to -each other." - -Her face twitched with eagerness to be understood; she tried to put her -arm around her mother; but Mrs. Payton turned a rigid cheek to her lips; -and instantly Fred lapsed back into contempt of unreality. The fact was, -the deed was done. Each had told the other the truth. Mother and -daughter had both seen the flash of the blade of fact as it cut pretense -between them. Never again would Mrs. Payton's vanity over duty done dare -to raise its head in her daughter's presence: Freddy knew that, so far -as her married life went, duty had been cowardly acquiescence. Never -again would Frederica be able to fling at her mother her superior -morality: Mrs. Payton knew she was cruel, knew she was "just like her -father."... Like Andy Payton! She ground her teeth with disgust, but -she could not deny it. She was so truthful that she saw the Truth; saw -her father's intelligence in her own clear mind; his ability in hers; -his meanness in her ruthless smartness in proving a point. She hated him -for these things--but she hated herself more. - -Mrs. Payton told Arthur Weston of this revealing scene; but her -confession confined itself to her remorse for having said she loved one -child more than the other. "Of course I love them just _exactly_ the -same, but Freddy was wicked to speak disrespectfully of her father." - -Then Frederica poured her contrition into his pitying ears. - -"I was a beast, but I was not a liar." - -"It isn't necessary to be a beast, to be truthful," he reminded her. - -"I made her cry," she said. "Father used to do that. Do--do you think -I'm like him?" - -"Like your father? Good Lord, no!" he said, in horrified haste; then -apologized. "I--I mean, Mr. Payton was a very able man, I had great -respect for his brains; but he was--severe." - -"'Severe'? Well, I'm 'severe,' I suppose? No; the trouble with me is, -I'm hideously truthful--_and I like to be_." - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -The ridiculous part of Fred's dash for freedom was that she actually -picked up a client or two! Of course, her commissions did not quite pay -for the advertising that brought the clients--"But what difference does -that make?" she demanded. - -Arthur Weston, who had come up to the "office" on the tenth floor to -check over a bill for her, said, "Oh, no difference, of course. You -remind me of the old lady, Fred, who bought eggs for twenty-four cents a -dozen and sold them for twenty-three cents. And when asked how she could -afford to do that, said it was because she sold so many of them." - -"I don't care," she said, doggedly; "when you begin you've got to put up -something. I'm putting up my time. If I come out even--" - -"You won't," he prophesied. - -"Your old dames are coming to-morrow," she said. She had fastened Zip to -the umbrella-rack and was sitting on her office table, showing a candid -and very pretty leg in a thin silk stocking; she looked at him with the -unselfconscious gaze of a child. - -"They are to arrive at five, and I'm scared to death for fear that the -walk to the Episcopal church is six feet short of half a mile! I wish I -had a motor to run around and look at places. Don't you think, as an -investment, I could have a motor?" - -"I do not!" he said. "Maitland made that alarming suggestion, and I told -him not to put such ideas into your head." - -"He's on the track of three Ohio girls who want five rooms and a bath, -for light housekeeping, furnished. He's going to haul me round in his -go-cart to look at some flats. Trouble is, I can't charge my full -commission--they're poor. Students at the College of Elocution. Why do -girls always want to elocute?" - -"Why do they want to run real-estate offices? It's the same thing. -Strikes me Howard hauls you round in his go-cart a good deal." - -She shrieked with laughter. "Nothing doing! Nothing doing! I see your -little hopeful thought. You've got me on your shoulders, like the aged -Anchises, and you hoped that Howard might come to the rescue. Mr. -Weston, I suppose your aunts, or cousins, or whatever they are, think -I'm a freak?" - -"Well, you are," he said; "I'll tell you what they think: they think -(not having seen you) that you are a 'sweet girl who is doing something -very kind for two old ladies.'" - -"A 'sweet girl'! Me, a 'sweet girl'?" - -"Don't worry. You're not." - -"I suppose they think I am doing it to please you? Very likely they -think I'm trying to catch you," she said, chuckling. - -He looked at her drolly: "Well, you've caught me. You are a perfect -nuisance, Fred, but you do serve to kill time." - -She slipped down from the table, her high-heeled, low-cut shoes clicking -sharply on the floor, and, going over to the window, peered down into -the cañon of the street. Zip scrabbled up, leaped the length of his -leash, jumped, pounced, then put his nose on the floor between his paws -and wagged his hindquarters. "No, sir!" she told him, "not yet!" And he -crouched down again, patiently curling a furtive tongue over the toe of -her shoe. "Howard was to come round for me in his car at four," she -said. "Zip! Stop licking my shine off! I hate unpunctual people." Coming -back to her caller, she fumbled in the pocket of her coat for her -cigarette-case. "Have one?" - -He helped himself and approved the quality. - -"I offered Mr. Tait one," she said, "and his hair began to curl!" - -"My hair is perfectly straight." - -"That's the beauty of you. Yet Tête-à-tête couldn't have given a reason -for his horror, to save his life." - -"I could." - -She was plainly disappointed in him. "I thought better of you than that! -There's no 'right' or 'wrong' about it." - -"No, of course there isn't," he agreed; and she applauded him. "But -there is a very excellent reason, all the same, why a girl shouldn't -smoke." - -"What?" she demanded. - -"Makes her less agreeable to kiss." - -"Well, I'll wait till somebody wants to kiss me," she said, gayly; "when -they do, I'll give up cigarettes--and take to a pipe!" She pulled down -the top of her desk and slipped the loop of the puppy's leash on her -wrist. "As for smoking," she confessed, "I'm not awfully keen on it. -Sometimes I forget to open my cigarette-case for days! But I have just -as much _right_ to do it as you have." - -The defiance made him laugh. "That's like your sex, insisting that, -because we make fools of ourselves, you will make fools of yourselves. -That's your principle in demanding an unlimited suffrage." - -But Fred was not listening. "I'm afraid you must clear out," she said; -"Howard must be on hand by this time." - -"I wonder when you'll earn the cost of that desk?" he mused, and looked -about the office, with its one big window that muffled the roar of the -city ten stories below, and framed, black against a lowering sky, the -far-off circle of the hills. It was a gaunt little room, with its desk -and straight chairs, and its walls hung with real-estate maps. A vision -of Mrs. Payton's fire-lit upholstery flashed into his mind, and made him -smile. What a contrast! "But this interests Fred," he thought; "and the -petticoated easy-chairs don't. And the only thing that makes life -endurable is an interest." He wondered, vaguely, what interests he had -himself. Certainly his trustee accounts were not very vital interests! -It occurred to him, watching Fred thrust some long and vicious pins -through a very rakish hat, that when she settled down and married -Maitland he would lose a distinct interest. "I'll have to transfer it to -her infants," he thought, cynically; "I suppose I'll be godfather to the -lot of 'em, and she and Howard, in the privacy of connubial bliss, will -speculate as to how much I'll leave 'em-- Damned if I leave them -anything!" he ended, with a flare of temper. - -"Come on," said Fred. - -They went down-stairs together, and waited in the cold for five minutes -until Howard came, brakes on, against the curb, in a great hurry, but -not in the least apologetic. - -"I stopped to look at some shells at Beasley's," he vouchsafed as Fred -was climbing into the car; then opened his throttle, and Mr. Weston, -standing on the corner, watched them leap away down the crowded street. - -"Look at him trying to cut in ahead of everybody!" he reflected; "but -she thinks he's perfect." - -If Fred believed her cavalier perfect, that did not keep her from -criticizing his driving. Howard, too, was entirely frank, and told her -her nose was red. After that they talked about the Ohio girls, and when -they reached South G Street, leaving Zip on guard in the auto, he went -all over the flat with her, and said the kitchenette was a slick place, -but the bath-room was small--"and dark," he objected, following her in, -and peering about at the plumbing. Then they decided that they had just -time to whiz around to the apartment she had arranged for Arthur -Weston's cousins. "They are to come to-morrow," she said. - -If Mrs. Payton had seen her Freddy that afternoon, she would hardly have -known her. No girl of Mrs. Payton's youth could have been more efficient -as to dust; and certainly few young ladies of that golden time would -have made better arrangements for storing away the kindling, nor would -they have trampled a negligent plumber more completely underfoot than -did Frederica Payton. She had sent Howard flying in his car to bring the -man, and she stood over him until he finished his job; then packed him -and his kit out of the apartment and washed his horrid finger-marks off -the white paint. In the parlor, she sat down on the sofa, drawing up her -feet and snuggling back against the cushions. - -"This is mighty nice," she said, looking around with a satisfaction as -old as the cave-dweller's who hung skins on dripping walls and spread -rushes over stone floors. - -Howard, sprawling luxuriously in an arm-chair, regarded her with -admiration. "It's funny that you can do _this_ sort of thing," he waved -an appreciative hand at the details of curtains and table-covers. - -She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm in it for loot. If I'd thought they'd -wanted a silk hat in the hall, I would have got it for 'em." - -Howard roared. "That's where a woman's instinct comes in. I couldn't -have fussed." - -"Cut out woman's instinct," she commanded; "there's no such thing. To -try to please a customer is only common sense. As for me, I hate all -this domestic drool of tidies." And they both believed that she did! - -They sat there--or, at least, Maitland sat, and Frederica reclined, for -nearly an hour; the empty flat, the wintry dusk, the innumerable -cigarettes, all fitted into their talk.... - -At first Howard told her about the shells he had seen at Beasley's. "I -bought a _gloria-matis_," he said; "cost like the devil!" - -Frederica frowned. "I don't see how you can bother with shells when the -world is just buzzing with real things! For instance, Smith has come out -for votes for women. Isn't that splendid?" - -"He'd come out for votes for Judas Iscariot if it would put him in -office," he said, sharply; "and let me tell you, Fred, research work, in -any department of science, helps the world, finally, a blamed-sight more -than most of this hot air that the reformers turn on. It isn't so showy, -but one single man like Pasteur is of more permanent value than all the -Smiths in our very corrupt legislature, boiled down!" - -"Peeved?" she said, good-naturedly. "Why don't you say 'one single woman -like Madame Curie'? Well, buy your old shells, if you want to!" - -"I will," he said, grinning. "How's business?" - -When she announced some small success, he said, wonderingly, "You are -the limit!" And added what he thought of her pluck and her intelligence: -"I never knew a woman like you!" - -"All women are like me--when you let 'em out." - -"No, they're not!" he contradicted, with admiring rudeness. - -The rudeness pleased her, as, no doubt, the male cave-dweller's candor -of fist or foot pleased the female cave-dweller. His praise and wonder -were like wine to her. She wanted more of it. Curled up on the sofa, she -grew more and more daring in her talk; her face, flushing with -excitement, was vividly handsome, and her mind was as vivid as her face; -he could hardly keep up with her mind! She was an Intelligence to him, -rather than a woman; and that was why he was totally unaware of anything -unusual in the situation--the darkness and the solitude. There was -absolutely no self-consciousness in him. - -With her it was different--she was acutely self-conscious. Once a woman, -bred in the tepid reticences of propriety, takes the plunge into free -talk, the very tingle and exhilaration of the shock makes her strike out -into still deeper water.... She talked about herself; of her life at -home; of Mortimore--"He ought to have been killed when he was born," she -said; "but, of course, he ought never to have been born." - -"Of course," Howard said, gravely. - -"It all came from ignorance on the part of women," she explained. "In -Mother's day, people confused innocence with ignorance--and as a result, -Mortimores were born. What do you think? The day Mother was married, her -father said to her (she told me this herself!), 'Remember, Ellen, your -husband's past life is none of your business.' Think of that! And poor -Mother didn't know enough to know that it was the one thing that was her -business!" - -Her hearer concealed his embarrassed knowledge of that "past life" by -nodding and frowning. - -"From Mother's point of view," Frederica went on, contemptuously, "every -vital thing is indelicate--I mean indecent," she corrected herself, with -the satisfaction of finding a more striking word; "according to people -like Mother, a really refined baby would think it improper to be born!" - -He laughed uproariously; he wished he could repeat that to Laura Childs, -but of course he couldn't. However, the fellows would appreciate it. "As -for babies," Fred said, with a shrug, "there's going to be lots of -reform along that line. To merely rear children is a pretty poor job for -an intellectual being. Did I tell you what I pulled off in a speech at -our club?... '_The child is the jailer that has kept woman in prison._' -Don't you think that's pretty well put?" - -"Bully," he said. - -Then she told him that she had found a bungalow out on the north side of -the lake--"the unfashionable side; that place they call Lakeville; all -camps. You know? It's just beyond Laketon, where the nice, useless rich -people go." She was going to hire it for the summer, she said, and take -occasional days off from business, and get up a rattling good speech on -woman suffrage--"and sex-slavery. The abolishment of that is what we're -really working for, and it will come when we face Truth! Until now, -women have been fed up on lies." She would live by herself: "I don't -mean to have even a maid; I'm going to be on my own bat. I suppose -Grandmother will throw a fit; she'll say, 'It isn't _done_!' That's -Grandmother's climax of horror. She'd have said it to every Reformer who -ever lived." - -"You don't mean to say you'll stay there at night, all alone?" he said, -astonished. - -"Of course. Why not?" - -"Won't you be frightened?" - -"Frightened? What of? Would _you_ be frightened?" - -When he was obliged to admit that he would not be what you'd call -frightened, "but a girl--" - -"Rot! Why should a girl be frightened? I shall take a revolver." - -After that, naturally, Feminism became the engrossing theme, bringing -with it, as usual, those shallow generalizations that so often belittle -this vital and terrible subject, even as creeds sometimes belittle -Religion. To Fred's mind, as to many serious minds, Feminism had a -religious significance; but she did not know--arrogance never does -know!--the stigma her conceit put upon her cause. - -"Look at the unrest of women, everywhere. I don't mean the agitation for -suffrage;--that is just a symptom of it. It is yeast," she said, with -passion; "yeast! We can't help it; something is fermenting; something is -pushing us. All kinds of women feel it. I know, because I go round to -the factories and talk to the girls at their noon hour, trying to get -them to organize--that's the only way we can get the men to do what we -want. Organization! Women have got to get together! I've made a -door-to-door canvass for our league, and I came up against this--this, I -don't know what to call it! this _stirring_, among women. Every woman -(except fat old dames whose minds stopped growing when they had their -first baby) is stirred, somehow. Twenty years from now the women who are -girls to-day won't be putting picture puzzles together for want of -something better to do." The contempt in her voice revealed nothing to -Howard Maitland, who scarcely knew the poor, dull lady in the -sitting-room on Payton Street; but he wondered why Fred's face suddenly -reddened. "No; girls are doing things! When they get to middle age their -brains won't be chubby. Look at the factories, and shops, and -offices--all full of women! Girls don't have to knuckle down any more, -and 'obey'; they can say 'Thank you for nothing!' and break away, and -support themselves. I tell you what! this life servitude that men have -imposed upon women of looking after the home, is done, _done_, for good -and all! That sweet creature, 'the devoted wife,' is being labeled 'kept -woman,'--but the ballot is the key to her prison door!" - -"Bully simile," he said. - -"But isn't it all queer--the change in things?" she said, her voice -suddenly vague and wondering; "it's a sort of race movement, with Truth -as the motive power. It's bigger than just--people. Even our -parlor-maid, Flora, feels it! She wants to do something; she doesn't -know what. (I wish she'd put her energies into laundering the -centerpieces better, but I regret to say she has a soul above laundry.) -Yes, things are stirring! It's yeast." - -Such talk was new to Howard. Until now, his young Chivalry had concerned -itself only with women's demand for suffrage--which, as Frederica Payton -had very truly said, is only a symptom, alarming, or amusing, or divine, -as you may happen to look at it--of the world-unrest which she called -"feminism." He was keenly interested. - -"Gosh, Fred," he said, soberly, as she ended with the assertion that -Feminism was the most interesting thing that had come into the Race -Conscienceness since humanity began to stand on its hind legs--"gosh, I -take off my hat to you!" His admiration was not so much for the thing -she was trying to do, as for the fact that she was trying! She was -_doing_ something--anything!--instead of sitting around, like most -people, in observant and disapproving idleness. He forgot her snub about -his shells; his eyes were ardent with admiring assent to everything she -said. "You are the limit!" he said, earnestly. - -And she, speaking passionately her poor, bare, ugly facts--all true, but -verging on lies, because no one of them was the whole Truth--going -deeper into her adventure of candor, felt, suddenly, a quickening of the -blood. She had an impulse to put out her hand and touch him--the big, -sprawling, handsome fellow! His voice, agreeing to all she said, made -her quiver into momentary silence, as a harp-string quivers under a -twanging and muting thumb. That his assents, which gave her such acute -satisfaction, were merely her own convictions, thrown back to her by the -sounding-board of his good nature, she did not realize. The intellectual -attraction she felt in him was hers. The other attraction, which was -his, she did not analyze. She realized only that something seemed to -swell in her throat and her breathing quickened. The newness of the -sensation threw her off the track of her argument, which was to prove -that women would save society by facing facts--"facts" being, -apparently, the single one of sex. - -"When I marry," Fred said, "nobody's going to pull that devilish bromide -on me, that the man's past isn't my business. There'll be no Mortimores -in _mine_! I mean to have children who will push the race along to -perfection!" - -"I bet they will!" he said. - -She sat up on the sofa, cross-legged, clasping an ankle with each hand, -her eyes glowing in the dusk. "You've given me a brace!" she said. - -"You've given _me_ one! I'd rather talk to you than any man I know." - -She put out her hand impulsively, and he gripped it until the seal ring -on her little finger cut into the flesh and made her wince with pain and -break away; but with the pain there was a curious pang of pleasure. She -got on her feet with a spring, and, rubbing her bruised finger, gave a -last look about the apartment. - -"I hope the tabbies will like it. Heavens, Howard, do you think they'll -smell cigarette-smoke? I suppose they'd have a fit if they discovered -that the 'sweet girl' smoked cigarettes!" - -"Do they call you a 'sweet girl'?" he said, and roared at the idea. - -"Mr. Weston doesn't like me to smoke. It gave me quite a shock to find -he was such a 'perfect lady.'" - -"Oh, well, he's old. What can you expect? I like you to. You knock off -your ashes like a kid boy." - -"Open the window a second, will you?" Fred said; "that smoke does hang -around.--Howard, I believe they'll think I'm trying to lasso Mr. Weston -into marrying me! Poor old boy, you know when he was young, before the -flood, some girl turned him down, and I understand he's never got over -it. The cousins will think I'm trying to catch him on the rebound! -Funny, isn't it, how the elderly unmarried female is always trying to -make other people get married? I think it's a form of envy; sort of -getting what you want by proxy. Men don't do it." - -"Men are not so altruistic," he said. - -Frederica's face bloomed in the darkness, rose-red. They went out to the -elevator, and dropped down to the entrance in silence. Howard, cranking -his car, and getting a slap on the wrist that made him bite off a bad -word between his teeth, thought to himself that Fred Payton was a -stunner! - -He said so that night to Laura Childs, when they were sitting out a -dance at the Assembly. They had talked about his _gloria-matis_, and she -had thrilled at its cost, and pleaded with him to show it to her. "I'm -crazy to see it! Please!" - -"Fred didn't care a copper about it," he told her, with some amusement. -"She's sort of woozy on reforms." - -Laura nodded. "Fred's great, perfectly great," she said, looking down at -the toe of her slipper, poking out from her pink tulle skirt. - -"She has a man's brain," he said. - -"Now, why do men always say that sort of thing?" Laura objected, her -eyes crinkling good-naturedly. "Brain has no more sex than liver." - -Howard made haste to apologize: "'Course not! I only meant she's awfully -clever, you know." - -Laura agreed, a little wistfully: "I admire Fred awfully. Do you know, -she talked to the girls in the rubber-factory out in Hazelton about the -Minimum Wage? She wanted me to go there with her, but I'd promised Jack -McKnight to play tennis. Well, I'm afraid I wouldn't have gone, anyhow," -she added, soberly; "those things bother Father, and it isn't as if I -could accomplish anything, as Freddy can. If anybody asked me to make a -speech, I should simply die. But Fred has no end of sand," Laura ended; -her admiration was as honest as it was humble. - -"Sand?" Howard said; "you bet she has sand! Why, she is going to take a -bungalow out in Lakeville this summer, and live there all by herself. -She wants to read and study, and all that sort of thing." - -"By herself?" said Laura, really startled. "You don't mean without even -a maid?" - -"So she says." - -"Aunt Nelly will never allow it! And, really, it wouldn't be safe. She -ought to take Flora along, at least." - -Upon which Howard boldly tried Fred's own argument: "Why shouldn't she -be alone? She'll have a revolver." - -"I wouldn't do it for a million dollars!" said Laura. "And, besides, -nobody goes to Lakeville; it's awfully common." - -"Fred is above that sort of thing," Howard said. For once the -good-natured Laura was affronted. - -"I don't pretend to be like Fred--" she began, but he interrupted her: - -"You? Of course you're not like Fred! You couldn't do the things she -does!" - -Laura gave him a cool glance: "I promised this dance to Jack McKnight. -Perhaps we'd better start in?" - -"I'd like to wring his neck," Howard declared, rising reluctantly. - -When she and Jack were half-way down the room she told him that there -was a new engagement in the air. "The girl's perfectly fine, but the man -makes me tired," said Lolly, lifting her pretty foot in the prettiest -and daintiest kick imaginable. - -"Tell us," Jack entreated, one hand holding hers, and the other spread -over her young shoulder-blades. - -"Oh, it isn't out yet," she said, "and I don't know that it's--really -_on_--but I bet it--will be--pretty soon!" - -And she tossed her head a little viciously. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -The two Misses Graham were very much interested in their real-estate -agent. - -"A _girl_, to be in business," said the younger sister, doubtfully. - -"It's very nice in her," said the elder sister. "I suppose the Paytons -have lost their money and she has to support the family." - -"She is certainly capable," Miss Mary admitted. "But it does seem -strange for her to work in this way, when she could give music lessons, -for instance." - -"Perhaps she's not musical," Miss Eliza objected. "I hate to have a girl -pounding the piano, when her talent lies in scrubbing floors." Miss -Eliza Graham looked like a frayed old eagle; perhaps because for seventy -years she had flapped unavailing wings against the Graham traditions. - -Those traditions had kept her from the serious study of music, and later -they had "saved" her from marriage with a man who had very little money. -The younger Miss Graham looked, and was, as contented as a pouter-pigeon -teetering about in a comfortable barn-yard. It was Miss Eliza, tall, -thin, piercing-eyed, and sweet-hearted at seventy-two, who had, as she -expressed it, "dug Mary up," and brought her to town for the winter. -Miss Eliza was for a hotel, but Miss Mary felt that unmarried ladies -should have the dignity of their own roof. "We can always have the -escort of a messenger-boy, if we go out in the evening," she told her -sister, who agreed, her eyes twinkling. - -"Excellent idea. We can spank him if he doesn't behave properly!" - -"Oh, my _dear_ Eliza!" Miss Mary protested, but she smiled indulgently. -Eliza was the most precious thing in the world to the little, plump lady -who made endless excuses to herself, and to everybody else, for "dear -Eliza's ways." It was a "way" of Eliza's to forgive Youth for almost -anything it did.... - -"Of course, Youth makes Age uncomfortable," she would concede. "New wine -is very hard on old bottles! But if the bottles burst, it isn't the -fault of the wine, it is the fault of the bottles--_for having been -empty_!" The significance of those last words was quite lost on Miss -Mary. - -As the two sisters went over their little apartment, and discovered its -possibilities, old Miss Eliza's interest centered in the youth as well -as the sex of their real-estate agent. "Look at that wood-box!" she -said;--"to think of a girl having so much gumption!" - -"Oh, dear!" said Miss Mary--and pointed a shrinking finger at the stub -of a cigarette on the parlor windowsill, "I thought I smelt smoke; a -workman must have left it." - -But the cigarette was the only fly in the ointment. The apartment, with -its "art" finishings, electricity, and steam-heat, was to the country -ladies and their one elderly maidservant a miracle of beauty and -convenience. - -"Arthur was wonderfully wise in asking Miss Payton to attend to it for -him," Miss Eliza said. - -"I wonder if--it means anything?" Miss Mary queried, with an arch look. -"After all, he must know her very well, to have told her just what we -wanted--rooms and bath, and all that. It is rather intimate, you know." - -"I _hope_ it means something! I hope he has got over that wicked jilt, -Kate Morrison!" - -"Well, the Paytons are nice people," the younger sister said; "she was a -Holmes, you know." - -They were both eager to see dear Arthur and Miss Payton, for they felt -sure they would know the moment they saw them together whether he had -"got over" Kate. "When people are in love they always betray it," said -Miss Eliza. - -But when Mr. Weston brought Miss Frederica Payton to call, no "love" was -betrayed on either side. In fact, the call was such an astonishing -experience to the two sisters that they quite forgot their sentimental -wonderings. Frederica accepted their thanks and appreciation very -pleasantly, but a little bluntly. Oh, yes, the sunshine in the -dining-room was very nice; she was glad they liked it. But she hoped -they'd survive the jig-saw over-mantel and the awful tiles in the -parlor. "They made me pretty sick," she said. - -"Why, I thought the mantelpiece very artistic," Miss Mary said, blankly. - -"The porcelain bath-tub is dandy," Fred said, with real pride. - -"Dandy?" murmured Miss Eliza. - -"It made me feel as if I could hardly wait for Saturday night to take a -bath," the Real Estate Agent said. The two ladies looked startled--not -at the antique joke, but to refer to bathing in Arthur's presence! "I -mean the tub is bully," Fred explained; "and the plumbing--" Here she -became so specific that her modest old clients grew quite red. She had -been obliged to get a plumber in to work on the trap the afternoon -before they came, but she was sure everything was all right now. - -The door-bell rang at this moment, and while the Misses Graham, -breathless under the shock of Miss Payton's thoroughness, welcomed (of -all people!) old Mrs. Holmes, Fred was able to groan to Arthur Weston, -"Can't we get out?" - -"We cannot," he said, decidedly; "now brace up and be nice to your -grandmother." - -"_Oh_, Lord!" said Fred; but she was really very nice. She pecked at -Mrs. Holmes's cheek through its white lace veil, and said "Hello, -Grandma! How is anti-suffrage?" as politely as possible. - -Of course, to make things pleasant for Mrs. Holmes, the Misses Graham -repeated all their appreciation of Miss Freddy's efficiency. "She will -make an admirable housekeeper," Miss Mary said, in her gentle way. - -"She ought to," said Frederica's grandmother. "I'm sure I brought her -mother up to know how to keep house! But it is just a fancy of Freddy's -to do this sort of thing;" she waved a knuckly white glove at the -apartment, which caused Frederica to roll her eyes at Mr. Weston. "Of -course, I know it isn't _done_, but it's an amusement for her," Mrs. -Holmes explained, "and I have so much sympathy with young people--my -daughter says I am all heart!--that I love to have the child amuse -herself." - -She was trying to preserve the Payton dignity, but she was very nervous; -she could have said it all so much better if that pert creature had not -been sitting there, her knees crossed, and displaying a startling length -of silk stocking. She knew that no sense of propriety would keep Fred -quiet if she took it into her head to contradict anybody, and she was -glad when the two ladies changed the subject, even though it was for the -gunpowdery topic of suffrage, on which, it appeared, the younger Miss -Graham had strong feelings. - -"I am sure female influence is not only more refining, but more -effective than the ballot could possibly be," she said. - -Of course Fred rushed in: "You're an anti?" - -"Yes, my dear," Miss Mary said, smiling. - -"To get things done by 'influence' is to revert, it seems to me, to the -methods of the harem," said Fred, earnestly. Frederica was never -flippant on this vital topic of suffrage, unless she was angry. Her -grandmother's retort supplied the anger: - -"Woman's charm will always outweigh woman's ballot," said Mrs. Holmes, -with smiling decision. (She, too, was getting hot inside.) - -"The antis," Fred flung back, "think that all that is necessary is to -'sit on the stile, and continue to smile'!" - -"What did you say?" said Mrs. Holmes, frowning. "Young people speak so -indistinctly nowadays! We were taught proper enunciation when I was -young." - -"Woman," said Miss Mary, raising her voice, "is a princess, but her -God-given rule lies in the gentle domain of the home." - -"Gosh!" said Fred--and two of her auditors laughed explosively. But -Frederica was red with wrath. "I've seen the 'princess' exercising her -God-given rule in cleaning the floors of saloons on her hands and knees, -because she had to support the children that her husband had foisted on -her and then deserted. Do you think under such 'gentle circumstances' -her charm would do as much for her as a vote?" - -One does not know just how much of an explosion there would have been if -the elder Miss Graham had not come to the rescue: "Ah, well, there are -so many good reasons on both sides, that I'm glad I don't have to decide -it!" Then she began to talk of old friends in Grafton; but, alas, as a -subject Grafton, too, was somewhat dangerous; old Mr. So-and-so died two -years ago; and Mrs. Black--did Mrs. Holmes remember Mrs. Black? "I am -sorry to say she is very ill," Miss Mary said. The chatter of gossip -was--as it so often is with age--a rehearsal of sickness and death. In -the midst of it Mrs. Holmes clutched at a gold mesh-bag that was -slipping from her steep lap, and tried to rise: - -"I think I must go. (Oh, do pick up that bag, Freddy dear.) I am too -tender-hearted," she confessed, "I can't bear to hear unpleasant -things!" - -"Well, let us talk of pleasant things," Miss Eliza said; but she looked -at the frightened old face under the white veil;--"and 'the feet of the -bearers' are coming nearer to her every day!" she thought. - -Mrs. Holmes sat down again, reluctantly. Of course, from the Misses -Graham's point of view, there could be nothing pleasanter for a -grandmother to hear than plaudits of Miss Freddy's efficiency; so they -went back again to that. Dear Arthur had told them how hard she had -worked (again Freddy's eyes rolled toward dear Arthur); engaging -tradesmen, and making the landlord do the necessary repairing.--"Oh, my -dear," Miss Mary interrupted herself, "I meant to warn you that one of -your workmen left a half-smoked cigarette here. I knew you would want to -reprove him. Dear me! in these days, with all the new ideas, the -working-people are very careless. But I feel so strongly our -responsibility to them, that I always tell them of their mistakes." - -"The working-people didn't make any mistake this time," Fred said; "you -mustn't blame the plumber,"--the temptation to get back at her -grandmother was too much for her--"it was my own cigarette." There was a -stunned silence. "Howard Maitland and I were smoking here quite a -while," she said, sweetly. "But I thought I'd aired the room out. I'm -awfully sorry,--cigarette-smoke does hang about so." ("'Amusement'!" she -was saying to herself; "I'll 'amuse' her!") - -But Mrs. Holmes was equal to the occasion. She shook an arch and knobby -finger at her granddaughter. "Naughty girl! But that's one of the things -that is done nowadays," she said; "ladies smoke just as much as -gentlemen, don't they, Mr. Weston?" - -"More," he declared, gayly; but he watched his two cousins. Had they -taken it in that Maitland and Fred had been in the flat together? It had -apparently not struck Mrs. Holmes--or if it had, she chose to ignore it; -she was talking, with a very red face, about all sorts of things. It -seemed a favorable moment to drag his candid ward away, and he did so, -with effusive promises to come again soon--all the time looking out of -the corner of his eye at the Misses Graham's farewell to Fred. Alas, -Miss Mary's were hardly visible. - -But Miss Eliza followed them into the hall, and put a hand on Fred's -arm: "I don't mind the smell of smoke in a room half as much as I do on -a girl's lips," she said, smiling; "they ought to be like roses." Then -she gave the angular young arm a little pat and ran back. - -"What a duck she is!" Fred said, honestly moved; "I wish I hadn't let -out at Grandmother!" - -Her repentance did not soothe Arthur Weston. "I'd like to shake you," he -said, as they got into the elevator. - -"Me? What's your kick? I thought I behaved beautifully! I kissed an inch -of powder off Grandmother's cheek. There's no satisfying you. I supposed -you'd give me a bunch of violets, with 'For a good girl,' on the card. -Don't be an old maid! Even Miss Graham isn't. She's a dear!" - -"I may be an old maid, but you are an imp!" he said. In the taxi, as -they rushed, with open windows, across the city back to Payton Street, -he spoke more gravely. "You ought not to have gone wandering around in -vacant apartments with Maitland." He was really annoyed, and showed it. - -Frederica was equally annoyed. "I am a business woman. Howard was -obliging enough to take me around in his car. In the flat we talked for -a while. Why shouldn't we? If he had been a girl, I suppose we could -have sat there until midnight and you would have never peeped!" - -"But may I call your attention to the fact that he's not a girl?" - -"May I call _your_ attention to the fact that there is such a thing, -between men and women, as intellectual relations?" She was getting -angry, and her anger betrayed her self-consciousness. - -"You compel me," he retorted, "to remind you that there are other -relations between men and women which are not markedly intellectual." - -"There're none of that kind in mine, thank you! I--" - -But he interrupted her, dryly: "Of course you know you had no business -to do it. You remind me, Fred, of one of those dirty little boys who put -a firecracker under your chair to make you jump. Look here, it's -unworthy of a 'business woman' to do unconventional things simply -because they are unconventional." - -"I didn't!" - -"You are like all the rest of your sex--self-conscious as hens when they -see an automobile coming! You knew it was queer to shut yourself up -there with that darned fool, Maitland, _and that's why you loved doing -it_," he flung at her. "That's the trouble with women nowadays; not that -they do unusual things, but they are so blamed pleased to be unusual! -And if they only knew it, they don't shock a man at all. They only bore -him to death." - -"I--" - -"But I suppose you can't help it; you are so atrociously young," he -ended, sighing. - -Frederica was almost too angry to speak. "I am old enough to do as I -choose!" - -"Only Youth does as it chooses," he told her. "Reflect upon what I have -said, my dear infant, and profit by it.... Stop at the iron dog!" he -called to the driver. And the next minute Frederica, buffeted by the -high, keen wind, ran past the dog, whose back was ridged with grimy -snow, and, holding on to her hat with one hand, let herself into the -hall with her latch-key. - -"What's the matter with _him_?" she thought, slamming the front door -behind her; "it isn't his funeral!" - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -At the jar of the banging door, Andy Payton's hat moved slightly on the -hat-rack, and something snarled at the head of the stairs. - -"It's nothing, Morty--only sister," a motherly voice said; and Miss -Carter leaned over the baluster: - -"I'm just bringing him down to his supper; he's a little nervous this -evening." - -"Oh," Fred said, shortly; "well, wait till I get out of the way, -please." She stepped into the unlighted parlor, and stood there in the -darkness, between the piano and the bust of Mr. Andrew Payton; as she -waited, her hand fell on the open keyboard, and she struck a jangling -chord. "Flora has been playing on the sly," she thought; "poor old -Flora!" Then for a moment her fingers were rigid on the keys--the -scrabbling procession was passing through the hall down to the room -where Mortimore's food was given to him. When the door closed behind him -she drew a breath of relief. She never looked at her brother when she -could avoid it. As she went up-stairs she paused on the landing to call -out, "Hello, Mother!" - -Mrs. Payton answered from the sitting-room: "Don't you want some tea, -dear?" - -Frederica hesitated; she didn't want any tea, but--"I suppose it -pleases her," she thought, resignedly; and went into the pleasant, -fire-lit room, with its bubbling teakettle and fragrance of Roman -hyacinths blooming on the window-sills. "Finished your puzzle?" she -asked, good-naturedly. - -Mrs. Payton, grateful for a little interest, said: "No; I've been doing -up Christmas presents most of the afternoon. I'm pretty tired! Tying all -those ribbons is dreadfully hard work," she ended, with an air of -achievement that was pathetic or ridiculous, as one might happen to look -at it. Her daughter, glancing at the array of white packages tied with -gay ribbons, did not see the pathos. That slightly supercilious droop of -the lip which always made Mrs. Payton draw back into herself, showed -Fred's opinion of the "hard work"; but she only said, laconically: - -"Mr. Weston took me to call on the old maids. No, I don't want any tea, -thank you." - -"You oughtn't to call them 'old maids'; it isn't respectful." - -"It's what they are--at least, the younger one is. The other one is very -nice. But they are both of 'em of the vintage of 1830." - -Mrs. Payton was sufficiently acquainted with her daughter's picturesque, -but limited, vocabulary to know what "vintage" meant, so she said: "Oh, -no; they are not so old as that. I don't think Miss Graham is much over -seventy." - -"I waked Miss Mary up!" Frederica said, joyfully. - -"I am sorry for that," Mrs. Payton sighed. - -Fred shrugged her shoulders. "Grandmother will tattle,--yes, she was -there; deaf as a post, and all dolled up like a plush horse;--so I -suppose I might as well tell you just what happened." She told it, -lightly enough. "Old Weston threw fits in the taxi, coming home," she -ended. - -"I should think he might! Freddy, really--" - -Her daughter looked at her with narrowing but not unkind eyes. "I wish I -knew why people fuss so over nothing," she said. - -Mrs. Payton put her empty cup back on the tray with a despairing sigh: -"If you can't _see_ the impropriety--" - -"Oh, of course, I see what you call 'impropriety'; what I don't see is -why you call it 'improper.' What constitutes impropriety? The fact that, -as Grandmother says, 'it isn't _done_'? I could mention a lot of things -that are done, that _I_ would call improper! Wearing nasty false fronts, -as Grandmother does, and silly tight shoes. A thing is true, or it's a -lie. That distinction is worth while. But what you call 'impropriety' -isn't worth bothering about." - -"Truth and falsehood are not the only distinctions in the world. Things -are fitting, or--not." - -"Howard and I talked, in an empty flat," Fred said; "I suppose if it had -been in our parlor, with the Egyptian virgin out in the hall chaperoning -us, it would have been 'fitting'?" - -Mrs. Payton wiped her eyes. "There's no use discussing anything with -you. When _I_ was a young lady, if my mother had reproved--" - -Fred made a discouraged gesture: "Oh, don't let's go back to the dark -ages. As for Howard--I'll see him at my office, if it makes you any -happier." - -"Why can't he call on you in your own house? You cheapen yourself by--" - -"Mother, there's no use! I couldn't stand it. Mortimore--" - -"_Frederica!_" - -Mrs. Payton's gesture of command was inescapable. Involuntarily Fred's -lips closed; when her mother spoke to her in that tone, the childish -habit of obedience asserted itself. But it was only for a moment: - -"Of course you don't mind him," she said; "you are fond of him. But you -can't expect me to feel as you do." She drew in her breath with a shiver -of disgust. - -"I love you both just the same!" Mrs. Payton said, emphatically. - -Frederica was not listening. "Oh, by the way," she said, "I've heard of -a little bungalow, at that camp place, Lakeville--you know?--that I can -rent for twenty-five dollars a month. I'm going to hire it for next -summer--rather ahead of time, but somebody might grab it. I want to have -a place to go, when I have two or three days off. I hope you'll come out -sometimes. And--and Miss Carter can bring Morty," she ended, with -generous intention. - -Mrs. Payton was silent. She was saying to herself, despairingly, "She's -jealous!" - -"Well, I must go and dress," Frederica said, and got herself out of the -room, acutely conscious of her mother's averted face. "'Cheapening' -myself--how silly!" she thought, as she closed her own door. When she -took her cigarette-case out of her pocket, Miss Graham's words came into -her mind and she smiled; but she lighted a cigarette and, standing -before her mirror, practised knocking off the ashes. Was it this way? -Was it that way? How does the "kid boy" do it? She tried a dozen ways; -but she could not remember the entirely unconscious gesture which had -pleased Howard Maitland. "How funny and old-fashioned old Miss Graham -was! But quite sweet," she thought. It occurred to her, as she took out -her hair-pins, that Miss Graham's antiquated ideas did not irritate her, -and her mother's did. For a moment she pondered this old puzzle of -humanity: "Why are members of your family more provoking than -outsiders?" After all, Miss Graham, with her "roses," was just as -irrational as Mrs. Payton with her fuss about propriety and -"cheapness"--or Arthur Weston, gassing about "relations which are not -markedly intellectual." She was angry at him, but that phrase made her -giggle. She sat down on the edge of her bed, her brush in her hand, her -hair hanging about her shoulders; it had been very interesting, that -"cheap" and entirely "intellectual" hour alone with Howard in the -darkening flat.... - -She put her elbow on her knee, her chin in her hand, and smiled. Of -course she knew what her mother, and Mr. Weston--"poor old boy!"--and -her grandmother, and the Misses Graham all had in the back of their -minds. "Idiots" she said, good-naturedly. If they could have heard the -plain, straight, man-to-man talk in the empty apartment, they would have -discovered that nowadays men and girls are not interested in those -_un_intellectual relations at which her man of business had hinted. She -remembered Howard's look when he said he would rather talk to her than -to any man he knew--and she lifted her head proudly! No girly-girly -compliment could have pleased her as that did. It was just as she had -always said, the right kind of man knows that a woman wants him to talk -horse sense to her, not gush. If the tabbies, and Mr. Weston, and her -mother had heard that talk, they wouldn't worry about sentiment! -Suddenly, she recalled that strange feeling she had had below her -breastbone as she looked at Howard sprawling in the arm-chair. She -remembered her curious impulse to touch him, and the rosy warmth that -seemed to go all over her, like a wave; she thought of that pang of -pleasure when his hand crushed hers so that the seal ring had cut into -the flesh and hurt her. "I wonder--?" she said; and bit her lip. Then -her face reddened sharply; she flung her head up like a wild creature -who feels the grip of the trap. - -_Love?_ - -For an instant she felt something like fright. "Of course not! He's just -a bully fellow, and I like him. Nothing more; I don't--" She caught a -glimpse of herself in the mirror, and the image held her eye. The vivid, -smiling face, a little thin, with the color hot, just now, on the high -cheek-bones; dark, wavy hair, falling back from a charming brow which, -pathetically enough (for she was only twenty-five), had lines in it. -"Heavens!" she said, "I believe I _do_!" She laughed, and, jumping to -her feet, shook the mane of hair over her eyes. But before she began to -brush it she lifted the hand Howard Maitland had gripped, and kissed it -hard, once--twice! - -"I do--care," she said; "I didn't know it was like this!" She glowed all -over. "_I am in love_," she repeated, amazed. - -While she tumbled the soft, dark hair into a loose knot on the top of -her head she tried to whistle, but her lips were unsteady. She did not -know herself with this quiver all through her, and the sudden stinging -in her eyes, and something swelling and tightening in her throat. She -forgot the shocked old maids, and the disgusted trustee. She was in -love! She began to sing, but broke off at a faint knock. - -"Dinner's ready, Miss Freddy." - -"Come in, Flora," Frederica called out; "and hook me up." She smiled so -gaily at the silent creature, not even scolding when the slim, cold -finger-tips touched her warm shoulder, that the woman smiled a little, -too. "I thought this was your afternoon out?" Fred said, kindly. - -"I 'ain't got no place in partic'lar to go. Anyway, I knew your ma -wasn't goin' to be in, and--" - -"I bet you played on the piano," Frederica said, smiling at herself in -the glass. - -"Well, yes'm, I did," the woman confessed. "I picked out the whole of -'Rock of Ages.'" - -"Flora! Don't look so low-spirited; I believe you're in love. Have you -got a new beau? I've been told that people are always low-spirited when -they're in love." - -Flora simpered; "Ah, now, Miss Freddy!" - -"Come! Who is he? You've got to tell me!" - -"Well, Mr. Baker's got a new man on. That there snide Arnold's been -bounced. Good riddance! He never did 'mount to nothing. Me, I'm sorry -for the girl he married; she'll just slave and git no wages. That's what -marryin' Arnold'll do for her!" - -"That's what marrying any man does for a woman," Miss Payton instructed -her; "a wife is a slave." - -But Flora's face had softened into abject sentimentality. "This here new -man, Sam, _he's_ something like. Light, he is; and freckled." Then her -face fell: "Anne says he's got a girl on the Hill. Don't make no -difference to me, anyhow. It's music I want. If I was young, I'd git an -education, and go to one of them conservmatories and learn to play on -the piano." - -"I'll give you some lessons, one of these days," Fred promised her, -good-naturedly. "Poor old Flora," she said to herself, as the maid, like -a fragile brown shadow, slipped out of the room. "'He's got a girl on -the Hill'! I wonder how I'd feel if Howard had 'a girl on the Hill'?" -Again the tremor ran through her; she could not have said whether it was -pain or bliss. "I certainly must teach Flora her notes," she said, -trying to get back to the commonplace. Then she forgot Flora, and, -bending forward, looked at herself in the glass for a long moment. "I'll -get that hat at Louise's," she said, turning out the gas; "it's the -smartest thing I've struck in many moons." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Mr. Weston, riding home in the taxi, was not without some astonishment -at himself. Why was he so keenly annoyed at Fred's bad taste? Why had he -such an ardent desire to kick Maitland? He might have gone further in -his self-analysis and discovered that, though he wanted to kick Howard, -he did not want to haul him over the coals, as a man of his years might -well have done--merely to give a friendly tip as to propriety to a -youngster whom he had seen put into breeches. Had he discovered this -reluctance in himself, Arthur Weston might have decided that his -indignation was based on a sense of personal injury--which has its own -significance in a man of nearly fifty who concerns himself in the -affairs of a woman under thirty. The fact was that, though he thought of -himself only as her grandfatherly trustee, Frederica Payton was every -day taking a larger place in his life. She amused him, and provoked him, -and interested him; but, most of all, the pain of her passionate -futilities roused him to a pity that made him really suffer. He could -not bear to see pain. Briefly, she gave him something to think about. - -His displeasure evaporated overnight, and when he went up to her office -the next morning he was ready to apologize for his words in the taxi. -But it was not necessary. Fred, in the excitement of receiving a letter -asking her fee for hunting up rooms, had quite forgotten that she had -been scolded. - -"I think I'd better advertise in all the daily papers!" she announced, -eagerly. - -"You're a good fellow," he said; "you take your medicine and don't make -faces." - -"Make faces? Oh, you mean because you called me down last night? Bless -you, if it amuses you, it doesn't hurt me!" - -The sense of her youth came over him in a pang of loneliness, and with -it, curiously enough, an impulse of flight, which made him say, -abruptly: "I shall probably go abroad in January. Can I trust you not to -advertise yourself into bankruptcy before I get back?" - -"Oh, Mr. Weston," she said, blankly; "how awful! Don't go!" - -"You don't need me," he assured her; but a faint pleasure stirred about -his heart. - -"Need you? Why, I simply couldn't live without you! In the first place, -my business would go to pot, without your advice; and then--well, you -know how it is. You are the only person who speaks my language. -Grandmother talks about my vulgarities, and Aunt Bessie talks about my -stomach, and the Childs cousins talk about my vices--but nobody talks -about my interests, except you. Don't go and leave me," she pleaded with -him. - -The glow of pleasure about his heart warmed into actual happiness. -"Please don't think I approve of you!" - -She looked at him with her gray, direct eyes, and nodded. "I know you -don't. But I don't mind;--you understand." - -"But," he said, raising a rueful eyebrow, "how shall I make Cousin Mary -'understand' your performances?" - -"By staying at home and keeping me in order! Don't go away." - -It was the everlasting feminine: "_I need you!_" There was no "new -woman" in it; no self-sufficiency; nothing but the old, dependent -arrogance that has charmed and held the man by its flattering -selfishness ever since the world began. - -He was opening the office door, but she laid a frankly anxious hand on -his arm. "Promise me you won't go!" - -He would not commit himself. "It depends; if you get married, and shut -up shop, you won't want a business adviser." - -"I sha'n't get married!" she said, and blushed to her temples. - -Mr. Weston saw the color, and his face, as he closed her door and stood -waiting for the elevator, dulled a little. "She's head over ears in love -with him. Well, he's a very decent chap; it's an excellent match for -her,--Oh," he apologized to the elevator boy, on suddenly finding -himself on the street floor; "I forgot to get off! You'll have to take -me up again." In his own office he was distinctly curt. - -"I am very busy," he said, checking his stenographer's languid remark -about a telephone call; "I am going to write letters. Don't let any one -interrupt me"--and the door of his private office closed in her face. - -"What's the matter with _him_?" the young lady asked herself, idly; -then took out her vanity glass and adjusted her marcel wave. - -Arthur Weston put his feet on his desk, and reflected. Why had he said -what he did about going to Europe? When he went up to see Fred, nothing -had been farther from his mind than leaving America. Well, he knew why -he had said it.... Flight! Self-preservation! "Preposterous," he said, -"what am I thinking of? I'm fond of her, and I'm confoundedly sorry for -her, but that's all. Anyhow, Maitland settles the question. And if he -wasn't in it--she's twenty-five and I'm forty-six." He got up and walked -aimlessly about the room. "I've cut my wisdom teeth," he thought, with a -dry laugh, and wondered where the lady was who had superintended that -teething. For Kate's sake he had taken a broken heart to Europe. The -remembrance of that heartbreak reassured him; the feeling he had about -Fred wasn't in the least like his misery of that time. He gave a shrug -of relief; it occurred to him that he would go and see some Chinese rugs -which had been advertised in the morning paper; "might give her one for -a wedding present?--oh, the devil! Haven't I anything else to think of -than that girl?" He stood at the window for a long time, his hands in -his pockets, looking at three pigeons strutting and balancing on a -cornice of the Chamber of Commerce. "She interests me," he conceded; -then he smiled,--"and she wants me to stay at home and 'take care of -her'!" Well, there was nothing he would like better than to take care of -Fred. The first thing he would do would be to shut up that ridiculous -plaything of an "office" on the tenth floor. Billy Childs put it just -right: "perfec' nonsense!" Then, having removed "F. Payton" from the -index of the Sturtevant Building, they--he and Fred--would go off, to -Europe. He followed this vagrant thought for a moment, then reddened -with impatience at his own folly: "What an idiot I am! I'm not the least -in love with her, but I'll miss her like the devil when she marries that -cub Maitland. She's a perpetual cocktail! She'd be as mad as a hornet if -she knew that I never took her seriously." He laughed, and found himself -wishing that he could take her in his arms, and tease her, and scold -her, and make her "mad as a hornet." Again the color burned in his -cheeks; he would do something else than tease her and scold her; he -would most certainly kiss her. "Oh, confound it!" he said to himself, -angrily; "I'm getting stale." He did _not_ want to kiss her! He only -wanted to make her happy, and be himself amused. "That is the difference -between now and ten years ago," he analyzed. "Kate never 'amused' me; -oh, how deadly serious it all was!" He speculated about Kate quite -comfortably. She was married; very likely she had half a dozen brats. -Again he contrasted his feeling for Fred with that brief madness of -pain, and was cheered; it was so obvious that he was merely fond of her. -How could he help it--she was so honest, so unselfconscious! Besides, -she was pathetic. Her harangues upon subjects of which she was (like -most of mankind) profoundly ignorant, were funny, but they were -touching, too, for her complacent certainties would so inevitably bring -her into bruising contact with Life. "She thinks 'suffrage' a -cure-all," he thought, amused and pitiful,--"and she's so desperately -young!" In her efforts to reform the world, she was like some small -creature buffeting the air. In fact, all this row that women were making -was like beating the air. "What's it about, anyhow?" he thought. "What -on earth do they want--the women?" It seemed to him, looking a little -resentfully at the ease and release from certain kinds of toil that had -come to women in the last two or three decades, that they had everything -that reasonable creatures could possibly want. "Think how their -grandmothers had to work!" he said to himself. "Now, all that these -ridiculous creatures have to do is to touch a button--and men's brains -do the rest." Certainly there is an enormous difference in the -collective ease of existence; women don't have to make their candles, or -knit their stockings, as their grandmothers did:--"yet, nowadays, they -are making more fuss than all the women that ever lived, put together! -What's the matter with 'em?" - -He grew quite hot over the ingratitude of the sex. His old Scotch -housekeeper, reading her Bible, and sewing from morning to night, was -far happier than these restless, dissatisfied creatures, who, in the -upper classes, flooded into schools of design and conservatories of -music--not one in a hundred with talent enough to cover a five-cent -piece!--and in the lower classes pulled down wages in factories and -shops. "Amateur Man," he said, sarcastically. "Suppose we tried to do -their jobs?" Then he paused to think what Fred's job, for instance, -would be. Not discovering it offhand, he told himself again that if -women would keep busy, like their grandmothers--his contemptuous thought -stopped, with a jerk; how could women do the things their grandmothers -did? What was it Fred had got off--something about machinery being the -cuckoo which had pushed women out of the nest of domesticity? "Why," he -was surprised into saying, "she's right!" - -He came upon the deduction so abruptly that for a moment he forgot his -sore feeling about Frederica's youth. Suppose the women should suddenly -take it into their heads to be domestic, and flock out of the mechanical -industries, back to the "Home"? Arthur Weston whistled. "Financially," -said he, candidly, "we would bu'st in about ten minutes."... - -"Do you want to give me those prices to Laughlin before I go out to -lunch?" a flat voice asked in the outer office; he slid into his -desk-chair as the door opened. - -"I haven't had time to look them up yet. Don't wait." - -He took up his pen, but only made aimless marks on his blotting-paper; -the interruption jarred him back into irritated denial of possibilities: -"She amuses me, that's all; I'm not in the least--in love." Suddenly, -with a spring of resolution, he took down the telephone receiver and -called up a number. The conversation was brief: "Hello! Jim?... Yes; I'm -Arthur. Look here, I want to break away for a week.... Yes--break away. -B-r-e-a-k. I'm stale. Can't you go down to the marshes with me, for -ducks?... What? Oh, come on! You're not as important as you think.... -What?... I'll do the work--you just come along!" - -There followed a colloquy of some urgency on his part, and then a -final, satisfied "Good boy! Wednesday, then, on the seven-thirty." - -He had hardly secured his man before he regretted it; the mere prospect -of the arrangements he must make for the trip began to bore him. -However, he sat there at his desk and made some memoranda, conscious all -the time of a nagging self-questioning in the back of his mind. "_I'm -not!_" he said, again and again. "I'll get some shooting and clear my -brain up." - -But by the time he had sent a despatch or two, and called Jim Jackson up -a second time to decide some detail, he knew that shooting would not -help him much. The nag had settled itself: he had accepted the -revelation that he was "interested" in Freddy Payton. With the contrast -between the pain of the old wound and the new, he would not use the word -"love," but "interest" committed him to an affection, tender almost to -poignancy. Of course there was nothing to do about it. He must just take -his medicine, as Fred took hers, "without making faces." There was -nothing to strive for, nothing to avoid, nothing to expect. She was as -good as engaged to Howard Maitland, and it would be a very sensible and -desirable match;--to marry a man of forty-six would be neither sensible -nor desirable! No; the only thing left to her trustee was to take every -care of her that her eccentricities would permit, guard her, play with -her, and correct her appalling taste. "Lord! what bad taste she has!" -Also, while he and Jackson were wading about on the marshes for the next -week, kick some sense into himself! - -That very evening, dropping in to the Misses Graham's and partaking of -a bleakly feminine meal, he laid his lance in rest for her. - -Miss Mary was full of flurried apologies at the meagerness of the -supper-table, but old Miss Eliza said, with spirit, that bread and milk -would be good for him! "Now, tell us about that child, Arthur," she -commanded. - -"You mean Fred Payton, I suppose?" he said, raising an annoyed eyebrow. -"I don't call her a 'child.'" - -"You are quite right," Miss Mary agreed, in her little neutral voice; -"she is certainly old enough to know how to behave herself." - -"It's merely that she wants to reform the world," Miss Eliza said, -soothingly. "Reformers have no humor, and, of course, no taste;--or else -they wouldn't be reformers!" - -"Your dear cousin Eliza is too kind-hearted," Miss Mary said; but her -own kind, if conventional, heart made her listen sympathetically enough -to the visitor's excusing recital of the hardships of Fred's life. - -Once, she interrupted him by saying that it was, of course, painful--the -afflicted brother. And once she said she hoped that Miss Payton was a -comfort to her mother--"though I don't see how she can be, off every day -at what she calls her 'office'--a word only to be applied, it seems to -me, to places where gentlemen conduct their business. When I was young, -Arthur, a girl's first duty was in her home." - -"Perhaps there is nothing for her to do at home," Miss Eliza said. - -"There is always something to do, in every properly conducted -household. Let her dust the china-closet." - -"I'd as soon put a tornado into a china-closet as that girl! She ought -to be turning a windmill," Miss Eliza said. - -Her cousin gave her a grateful look, but the other lady was very -serious. "I thought her manner to her grandmother most unpleasant. Youth -should respect Age--" - -"Not unless Age deserves respect!" cried Miss Eliza, tossing her old -head. - -Arthur Weston had seen that same flash in Fred's eyes. ("How young she -is!" he thought.) But her sister was plainly shocked. - -"Oh, my _dear_ Eliza!" she expostulated. "I am not drawn to Mrs. Holmes -myself, but--" - -"Neither is Fred drawn to her," Weston interrupted; "and she is so -sincere that she shows her feelings. The rest of us don't. That's the -only difference." - -"It is a very large difference," Miss Graham said; "this matter of -showing one's feelings is as apt to mean cruelty as sincerity. It's the -reason the child has no charm." - -"I think she has charm," he said, frowning. - -There was a startled silence; then Miss Eliza said, heartily: "Don't -worry about her! Just now she thinks it's smart to put her thumb to her -nose and twiddle her fingers at Life--but she'll settle down and be a -dear child!" - -Miss Mary shook her head. "If I were a friend of the young lady, I -should worry very much. Maria Spencer called on us yesterday, and told -us a most unpleasant story about her. She spent the night at an inn -with this same young man that she smoked with here. Oh, an accident, of -course; but--" - -"Miss Spencer is the town scavenger," Weston said, angrily. - -Miss Mary did not notice the interruption. "I cannot help remarking that -I do not think that such a young woman would make any man happy." ("It -was difficult to bring the remark in," she told her sister, afterward; -"but I felt it my duty.") - -"The man who gets Fred will be a lucky fellow," her cousin declared. - -"You know her very well, I infer," Miss Mary murmured. "I observe you -use her first name." - -"Oh, very well! And I knew her father before her. But the use of the -first name is one of the new customs. Everybody calls everybody else by -their first name. Queer custom." - -"_Very_ queer," said Miss Mary. - -"Very sensible!" said Miss Eliza. - -"Ah, well, we must just accept the fact that girls are not brought up as -they were when--when we were young"--Arthur Weston paused, but no one -corrected that "we." He sighed, and went on: "The tide of new ideas is -sweeping away a lot of the old landmarks; myself, I think it is better -for some of them to go. For instance, the freedom nowadays in the -relations of boys and girls makes for a straightforwardness that is -rather fine." - -"Well," said Miss Mary, "I don't like what you call 'new ideas.' 'New' -things shock me very much." - -"I'm rather shocked, myself, once in a while," he agreed, -good-naturedly. - -"What will you do, Mary, when the 'new' heaven and the 'new' earth come -along?" Miss Eliza demanded. - -The younger sister lifted disapproving hands. - -"As for the girls smoking," Weston said, "I don't like it any better -than you do. In fact, I dislike it. But my dislike is æsthetic, not -ethical." - -"I hope you don't think smoking is a sign of the 'new' heaven," Miss -Mary said;--but her sister's aside--"the Other Place, more -likely!"--disconcerted her so much that for a moment she was silenced. - -"I never could see," said Miss Eliza, "that it was any wickeder for a -lady to smoke than for a gentleman; but, as I told the child, a girl's -lips ought to be sweet." - -"Her smoking is far less serious than other things," said the younger -sister, sitting up very straight and rigid. "I do not wish to believe -ill of the girl, so I shall only repeat that I do not think she will -make any man happy." - -"She will," Miss Eliza said, "if he will beat her." - -"Oh, my _dear_ Eliza!" Miss Mary remonstrated. Then she tried to be -charitable: "However, perhaps she is engaged to this Maitland person, in -which case, though her taste would be just as bad, her meeting him here -would be less shocking." - -"If she isn't now, she will be very soon," Frederica's defender said. - -"Well," said Miss Mary, grimly, "let us hope so, for her sake; although, -as I say, I do _not_ feel that she--" - -Miss Eliza looked at her cousin, and winked; he choked with laughter. -Then, with the purpose of saving Freddy, he began to dissect Freddy's -grandmother--her powder and false hair; her white veil, her -dog-collar--"that's to keep her double chin up," he said. "Yes! She is -_very_ lively for her age!" He wished he could say that old Mrs. Holmes -was in the habit of meeting gentlemen in empty apartments--anything to -draw attention from his poor Fred! - -When he left his cousins, promising to come again as soon as he got back -from his shooting trip, and declaring that he hadn't had such milk toast -in years, he knew that he had not rehabilitated Frederica. "But Cousin -Mary feels that she has done her duty in warning me. Cousin Eliza would -gamble on it, and give her to me to-morrow," he thought; "game old soul! -But even if Howard wasn't ahead of the game, the odds would be against -me--forty-six to twenty-five--and, besides, what could I offer her? -Ashes! Kate trampled out the fire." - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -In those next few weeks Fred Payton was a little vague and preoccupied. -The revelation which had come to her in that moment before the mirror -when she had kissed her own hand, remained as a sort of undercurrent in -her thoughts, although she did not put it into words again. Instead, she -added Howard Maitland to her daily possibilities: Would she meet him on -the street?--and her eyes, careless and eager, raked the crowds on the -pavements! Would he drop into her office to say he had fished up a -client for her?--and she held her breath for an expectant moment when -the elevator clanged on her floor. Would he be at the dance at the -Country Club?--and when he cut in, and they went down the floor -together, something warm and satisfied brooded in her heart, like a bird -in its nest. Sometimes she rebuked herself for letting him know how -pleased she was to see him; and then rebuked herself again: Why not? Why -shouldn't she be as straightforward as he? Hadn't he told her he would -rather talk to her than to any man he knew? She flung up her head when -she thought of that; she was not vain, but she knew that he would not -say that to any other girl in their set. She was very contented now; not -even the ell room at 15 Payton Street seriously disturbed her. The fact -was, Life was so interesting she hadn't time to think of the ell -room--Howard, herself, her business, her league! Yet, busy as she was, -she remembered Flora's desire for music lessons, and every two or three -days, before it was time to set the table for dinner, she stood by the -togaed bust of Andy Payton, trying to teach the pathetically eager -creature her notes. But the lessons, begun with enthusiasm, dragged as -the weeks passed; poor Flora's numb mind--a little more numb just now -because Mr. Baker's Sam had suddenly vanished from her horizon--could -not grasp the matter of time. Fred's hand, resting on her shoulder, -could feel the tremor of effort through her whole body, as the thin, -brown fingers stumbled through the scales: - -"Now! Count: One--two--three--" - -"One--two--oh, land! Miss Freddy, I cain't." - -"Yes, you can. Try again." - -"Why don't you jest show me a tune?" - -"You have got to know your notes first; and you've got to count, or you -never can learn." - -"I don't want to learn, Miss Freddy; I want to play! Oh," she said once, -clutching her hands against her breast, "I _want_ to play!" Her mournful -eyes, black and opaque, gleamed suddenly; then a tear trembled, brimmed -over, and dropped down on the work-worn fingers. "I cain't learn, Miss -Freddy; I 'ain't got the 'rithmetic. I want to make music!" - -Alas, she never could make music! The clumsy hands, the dull brain, held -her back from the singing heights! "I cain't learn 'rithmetic," she said -(sixteenth and thirty-second notes drew this assertion from her); "and -if I cain't play music without 'rithmetic, I might as well give up now." - -"Well, you can't," Frederica said, helplessly. She had cut out the last -quarter of her league meeting to come home and give Flora a music -lesson. (Up-stairs, Mrs. Payton, listening to the thump of the scales, -confided to Mrs. Childs that she didn't approve of Flora's playing on -the piano. "The parlor is not the place for Flora," she said.) But, -watched by Mr. Andrew Payton's marble eyes, the slow fingers went on -stumbling over the keys, until Frederica and her pupil were alike -disconsolate. - -"You poor dear!" Fred said, at last, putting an impulsive arm over the -thin shoulders; "try _once_ more! And, Flora, Sam isn't the only man in -the world. Come now, cheer up! You're well rid of Sam." - -"Sam?" said Flora, her face suddenly vindictive; "I ain't pinin' for no -Sam! He was a low-down, no-account nigger--" The door-bell rang, and she -jumped to her feet. "I must git my clean apron!" she said; and vanished -into the pantry. - -Frederica waited, frowning uneasily; callers were not welcome at 15 -Payton Street when Fred was at home--the consciousness of the veiled -intellect up-stairs made her inhospitable. But it was only Laura and -Howard Maitland, both of them tingling with the cold and overflowing -with absurd and puppy-like fun. - -"Feed us! Feed us!" Laura demanded; "we've walked six miles, and we're -perfectly dead!" - -"Pig!" said Fred; "wait till I yell to Flora. Flora! Tea!" Her heart -was pounding joyously, but with it was the agonizing calculation as to -how long it would be before Miss Carter and her charge came clopping -down the front stairs on their way to the room where Mortimore had his -supper. "I don't mind Laura," Fred told herself, "but if Howard sees -Morty, I'll simply die!" - -"Don't you want me to light up?" Maitland was asking; and without -waiting for her answer he scratched a match on the sole of his boot, and -fumbled about the big, gilt chandelier to turn on the gas. - -"I didn't know you played, nowadays," Laura said, looking at the open -piano. "Gracious, Freddy, you do everything!" - -"Oh, I'm only teaching poor Flora. She has musical aspirations. Howard, -cheer up that fire!" - -Tea came, and Laura said kind things to Flora about the music lessons; -and then they all three began to chatter, and to scream at each other's -jokes, Frederica all the while tense with apprehension.... ("Miss Carter -won't have the sense to hold on to him; he'll walk right in!") - -But, up-stairs, her mother, leaning over the balusters to discover who -had called, had the same thought, and was quick to protect her. - -"It's your Lolly," Mrs. Payton said, coming back to her sister-in-law; -"and I think I hear Mr. Maitland's voice. I must tell Miss Carter to go -down the back stairs with Morty." Having given the order, through the -closed door between the two rooms, she sat down and listened with real -happiness to the babel of young voices in the parlor. "I do like to have -Freddy enjoy herself, as a girl in her position should," she told Mrs. -Childs; "just hear them laugh." - -The laughter was caused by Howard's displeasure at Fred's story of some -rudeness to which she had been subjected in canvassing for Smith--"The -Woman's Candidate." - -"If I'd been there, I'd have punched the cop's head!" he said, angrily. - -Fred shrieked at his absurdity. "If he'd said it to _you_, you'd only -think it was funny; and what's fun for the gander, is fun for--" - -"No, it isn't," he said, bluntly. - -"Howard," Laura broke in, "do tell Freddy the news!" - -"It isn't much," he said, modestly; "I'm ordered off; that's all." - -"Ordered off?" Fred repeated; "where?" - -"Philippines," Laura said. "Government expedition. Shells and things. -Starts Wednesday." - -"I've wanted to go ever since I was a kid," Howard explained. "It's the -Coast Survey, and I've been pulling legs all winter for a berth, and now -I've got it. I came in to see you pipe your eye with grief at my -departure." - -"Grief? Good riddance! You lost me a client, taking me out to see those -fool flats in Dawsonville. Have another cigarette. Lolly, how about -you?" - -"No," Laura sighed. "Billy-boy would have a fit if I smoked." She looked -at Fred a little enviously. "I'm crazy to," she confessed. - -"Oh, don't," Maitland said; "it isn't your style, Laura." - -"Howard, do you really start Wednesday?" Fred said, soberly. - -He nodded. "It's great luck." - -"You'll have the time of your life," Laura assured him; "why do men have -all the fun, Freddy?" - -"Because we've been such fools to let 'em." - -"Ladies wouldn't find it much fun--wading round in the mud," Howard -protested. - -"They ought to have the chance to wade round, if they want to!" Fred -said--and paused: (was that Miss Carter, bringing Mortimore? Her breath -caught with horror. She was sure she heard the lurching footsteps. No; -all was silent in the upper hall). - -Howard did not notice her preoccupation; he was pouring out his plans, -Laura punctuating all he said with cries of admiration and envy. ("I'll -_die_ if Morty comes in!" Frederica was saying to herself.) - -[Illustration: HOWARD DID NOT NOTICE HER PREOCCUPATION. HE WAS POURING -OUT HIS PLANS, LAURA PUNCTUATING ALL HE SAID WITH CRIES OF ADMIRATION -AND ENVY] - -"You've got to write to me, Fred," Maitland charged her; "I haven't any -relations--'no one to love me.' Do write me the news once in a while." - -"You're off day after to-morrow?" she repeated, vaguely; it came over -her, in the midst of that tense listening for the shuffling step on the -stairs, that she would not see him again--he would go away, and she -would not have had a word alone with him! She felt, suddenly, that she -could not bear it. For a moment she forgot Mortimore. "If you don't go -up-stairs and say how-do-you-do to Mother, Laura," she said, abruptly, -"you'll get yourself disliked. And your mother is in the sitting-room, -too." Even if Miss Carter and Morty appeared, she couldn't have Howard -leave her like this! - -Just for an instant, Laura's face changed; then she flung her head up, -and said, "Oh, yes; I want to see Aunt Nelly. I'll be right back. (I'll -give 'em a chance," she told herself, grimly.) - -Up-stairs, she roamed about the sitting-room, sniffing at the hyacinths, -and looking into the little, devout books, and even adding a piece or -two to the picture puzzle on the table. Then she sympathized with Mrs. -Payton's Christmas fatigue--"you oughtn't to give so many presents, Aunt -Nelly!" - -"Oh, my dear, it gets worse each year! People send me things, and of -course I have to pay my debts. So tiresome." - -"It's awful," said Laura; and straightened her mother's toque, and -kissed her. "Darling, your hat is always crooked," she scolded, cuddling -her cheek against her mother's. "Mama, we're going to have a suffrage -parade, in April; will you carry a banner?" - -"Oh, my dear!" Mrs. Payton protested. "One of those horrid parades here? -I thought we would escape that!" - -"Your father won't think of letting you walk in it, Laura," Mrs. Childs -warned her, with amiably impersonal discouragement. - -Laura's face sobered: "You make him let me, darling," she entreated. - -Mrs. Payton looked at them enviously. Nobody hated those vulgar, muddy, -unladylike parades more than she did, but she knew, in the bottom of -her heart, that if Freddy had snuggled against her, as Laura snuggled up -to Bessie, she would almost have walked in one herself! - -"Papa says those parades are perfect nonsense," Mrs. Childs said; "what -good do they do, anyhow?" - -"We stand up to be counted," Laura explained. - -"Papa won't allow it," her mother repeated, placidly. - -"I'm sure Mr. Weston will use his influence to prevent Freddy's doing -it," said Mrs. Payton. - -Then the two ladies exchanged their usual melancholy comments on the -times, and Laura listened, making her own silent comments on one fallacy -after another, but preserving always her sweet and cheerful indifference -to their grievances. She looked at the clock once or twice--surely she -had given Howard and Fred time enough! But she waited for still another -ten minutes, then, coughing carefully on the staircase, went down to the -parlor. - -Her consideration was unnecessary. Howard, standing with his hands in -his pockets, his back to the fire, had been telling Frederica that he -was going in for conchology seriously. "I know you don't think shells -are worth much," he ended, after giving her what he called a "spiel" as -to why he was going and what he was going to do. "But to me conchology -is like searching for buried treasure! I've been pawing round for a real -job, and now I've got it. I don't have to earn money, so I can earn -work! And I think research work means as much to the world as--as -anything else. I wanted you to know it was a real thing to me," he -ended, gravely. - -"Shells aren't awfully vital to civilization," she said. - -He made no effort to justify his choice; he had confessed the faith -that was in him, but it was too intimate to discuss, even with so good a -fellow as old Freddy. ("You can't expect a woman to understand that sort -of thing," he told himself; "women don't catch on to science--except -Laura. She sees the importance of it.") Then he broke out about Laura's -hat. "Isn't it dinky?" - -"Yes," Fred said, impatiently; they were talking like two strangers! -"Howard, I hate to have you away in April. We're going to have our -parade then, and I counted on you." - -"What for?" he said, puzzled. - -"To walk," she said, impatiently. His little start of astonishment -annoyed her. "Perhaps you are glad to miss it?" - -"I guess I am," he admitted, honestly. "I'm afraid I'd show the yellow -streak." - -She was plainly disappointed in him. - -"'Course I believe in suffrage," he said, "but I hate to see a lot of -ladies walking in the middle of the street." - -"We're not 'ladies'; we're women." - -"You're a lady, and you can't escape it. And I'd hate to see Laura do -it," he added. - -Fred had not a mean fiber in her, and jealousy is all meanness; but, -somehow, she felt a stab of something like pain. She did not connect it -with Laura; it was only because he was indifferent to what was so -important to her--and to Laura, too. And because he was going away, and -here they were, he and she, just being polite to each other! - -"Laura and I don't enjoy the middle of the street," she said; "but I -hope we won't funk it." - -"_You_ won't," he said; "you are the best sport going!" - -Her face reddened with pleasure. "Oh, I don't know," she disclaimed, -modestly. - -It was at this moment that Laura's considerate delay ended. "I'm off!" -she called, gaily, from the hall; "Howard needn't come until he is good -and ready!" - -He was ready in a flash. He gave Frederica's hand a hearty squeeze, then -turned to help Laura down the front steps. - -Fred closed the door upon them, and went back into the parlor. "_He is -going away_," she said to herself, blankly. Her knees felt queer, and -she sat down. "Well, at any rate, Morty didn't butt in; I couldn't have -borne that...." - -Out in the wintry dusk, the other two were silent for a while. Then -Maitland said, "How _can_ she stand that house?" - -"She's perfectly fine," Laura said, loyally. - -"She's a stunner," the young man declared; "I never knew anybody just -like her. Big, you know. Straightforward. I take off my hat to Fred in -everything!" - -Laura gave him a swift look. ("Have they fixed it up?" she thought; "I -gave 'em time enough!") - -"But I wish she wouldn't mix up with Smith," he said. - -"Smith believes in votes for women." - -"What's that got to do with it? He's the worst kind of a boss. As -Arthur Weston says, to put Smith in to purify politics, is like casting -out devils by Beelzebub, the Prince of Devils." - -"Oh, well, we stand by the people who stand by us!" - -"She's dead wrong," Howard said, carelessly, "but I hope she'll write to -me when I'm away. I shall want to hear that Smith has been snowed -under." - -"Of course she'll write to you," Laura encouraged him. ("No, they can't -have fixed it up. He wouldn't say that, if they were engaged.") - -"Say, Laura, I suppose you--it would bore you to send me a postal once -in a while? You might tell me how Fred's business is getting along." - -"She can tell you herself. (Good gracious! She's turned him down! Poor -old Howard!) I'm not very keen on writing letters, but I'll blow in a -postal on you once in a while, to tell you that Fred is still in the -market." - -"I'd be awfully pleased if you would," he said, eagerly. - -They were crossing Penn Park, and Laura, looking ahead, said, nervously: -"See this dreadful person coming along the path! Is he drunk?" - -"He certainly is," Howard said, laughing. She drew a little nearer to -him--and instantly he had a friendly feeling for the lurching -pedestrian! - -"It frightens me to death to see a man like that," she said. - -"He ought to be arrested," Howard said, joyfully--her shoulder was soft -against his! "Not that he would hurt anybody--he's just happy." - -"I'm not sandy, like Fred," she confessed. - -"Oh, Fred would undertake to reform him," he agreed, laughing. - -"Fred is--oh!" she broke off with a little shriek; the man, stumbling, -had caught at her arm. - -"_Ex_cuse me, lady, I--" Howard's instant grip on his collar spun him -around so suddenly that the rest of the hiccoughing apologies were lost -in astonishment; he stood still, swaying in his tracks, and gaping at -the receding pair. "The dude thought I was mashin' his girl," he said, -with a giggle. - -"Did he touch you?" Howard said, angrily. He had caught her to him as he -swung the man aside, and just for an instant he felt the tremor all -through her. "I ought to have choked him!" - -But she was laughing--nervously, to be sure, but with gaiety: "Nonsense! -poor fellow--he stumbled! Of course he caught at my arm. Only just for a -minute it frightened me--I'm such a goose!" - -"You're not!" he said. But for the rest of the way to the Childses' -house, he was very much upset. Laura had been scared, and it was his -fault; he had taken the west path through the park, because that was the -longest way home, and then he had bowled her right into that old soak! -"I could kick myself for taking the west path," he reproached himself, -again and again. - -He hardly slept that night with worry over having made Laura Childs -nervous. "She's the scariest little thing going!" he thought; "but she -has sense." She had agreed with him in everything he said about the -value of research work, and when he declared that science was the -religion of the man of intellect she had said, "Yes, indeed it is!" -"That shows what kind of a mind she has," he thought; "but wasn't she -cute about not smoking! Her 'father wouldn't let her.' Of course he -wouldn't! A girl like that could no more smoke a cigarette than a--a -rose could," he ended. This flight of fancy moved him so much that he -made a memorandum to send Laura some roses the next day--"and old Fred, -too; she's a stunning woman," he said, with real enthusiasm. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -Howard Maitland's departure in January for the Philippines surprised -several people. - -"Why should he take such a long journey?" Miss Mary Graham said to Miss -Eliza--"unless it is that he discovered that Miss Payton is not the sort -of girl to make any man happy, and simply left the country." - -"I wager he carried a mitten with him!" Miss Eliza said. - -"What! You think she refused him? Maria Spencer says she's only too -anxious to get him. Meeting him in empty apartments! Perhaps that -disgusted him. A gentleman does not like to be pursued."... - - -"Why has he gone away?" Mrs. Childs asked Laura, mildly interested. - -"Because he wants to hunt for shells." - -"But I thought he was so attentive to Freddy?" - -"Maybe she turned him down." - -"She'll get a crooked stick at last, if she doesn't look out," her -father said, over the top of his newspaper. - -Laura came and sat on the arm of his chair. "Fred doesn't need a stick, -Billy-boy; she can walk alone." - -"Every one of you needs a stick," Mr. William Childs assured her; "and I -don't know that I would confine it to the thickness of my thumb, -either, as the English law does." He reached up a plump hand and pulled -her ear. Afterward he told his wife that Lolly was down by the head: -"What's the matter with her, Mother?" he said. His two sons might have -failed in their various businesses, or taken to their beds with mumps or -measles, and he would not have looked as anxious as he did when he heard -the little flat note in Laura's voice. "Is she off her feed because I -won't let her walk in that circus parade of Fred's?" - -"Well, she's disappointed." - -"I won't have a girl of mine tramping through the mud--" - -"Perhaps it won't be muddy." - -"It will! It always is. Anyway, I hope it will be. But if she is upset -about it, I'll take her to St. Louis with me that week, so she won't -feel she's backed out. Mother, you don't suppose _she's_ missing that -Maitland chap, do you? Hey? What?" - -"Oh, dear me, no! Why, Mr. Maitland has been paying attention to Freddy -for the last year." - -"Why doesn't she take him, and stop all her nonsense? I hear she told -those poor, silly strikers in Dean's rubber-factory to support Smith, -the 'Woman's Candidate'! Much 'supporting' they can do! And the joke of -it is, Smith himself owns the controlling stock. She had better be at -home, darning her stockings." - -"Oh, now, Father, you must remember it isn't as if Ellen didn't have -plenty of servants to do things like that." - -"I hear she's signed that petition to have certain kinds of diseases -registered. _I_ don't know what the world's coming to, that girls know -about such things!" - -"Well, of course, girls are more intelligent than they used to be." - -"If she's so intelligent, I'll give her a book on Bacon-Shakespeare that -will exercise her brains,--and she can stop concerning herself with -matters that decent women know nothing about. Thank Heaven, our Laura is -as ignorant as a baby! Or, if Fred is so bent on reforming things, let -her have a Sunday-school class," said Mr. Childs, puffing and scowling. -"Look here, Mother, if you have any influence over her, try and get her -to take young Maitland. I should sleep more easily in my bed if I -thought she had a man to keep her in order." - -"But he has gone away," Mrs. Childs objected. - -"That's because she has turned him down. Maybe he'll never think of her -again; I wouldn't, if I were a young fellow! I'd want a _woman_, not a -man in petticoats. But if he does get on her track again, tell her to -take him; tell her I say she'll get a crooked stick if she waits too -long. You're sure Laura isn't blue about him?" - -"Now, Father! You are the most foolish man about that child!..." - - -"Why has Maitland gone on that expedition, Fred?" said Mr. Weston. - -"You can search me," said Miss Payton. - -Arthur Weston's hands, concealed in his pockets, tightened. "She has -refused him!" he said to himself. (Alas! shooting ducks on the marshes -had not helped him!) He had dropped in at 15 Payton Street, and Fred had -taken him up to the flounced and flowery sitting-room. - -"Mother'll be in pretty soon," she said; "so let's talk business, -quick!" She was apparently absorbed in "business," which, as the winter -thawed and drizzled into spring, flagged very much. "And the office rent -goes right along, just the same," she told her trustee, ruefully. "I -think, if I could have a little car to run around and look at places--" - -"Maitland put that idea in your head!" - -Frederica did not defend her absent adorer. Instead, she wailed over the -rapacity of her landlord. - -"You ought to have made your rent contingent on your customers," Mr. -Weston teased her; and roared when she took it seriously and said she -wished she had thought of it. "Give me some tea, Fred," he said; "these -questions of high finance exhaust me." Then he asked the usual question, -and Fred gave the usual answer. "But what do you hear from him?" Weston -persisted. "I suppose you write to him occasionally? You mustn't be too -cruel." - -"Well, I don't hear much," she said. She took a letter out of her pocket -and handed it to him. - -When he had read it, he was silent for a while. ("If this is the sort of -letter a blighted being writes," he reflected, "love has changed since -my time.") - -"_Dear Fred_," the letter ran, "_I'm having the time of my life. Tell -Laura Childs I saw a shell necklace that she'd be perfectly crazy about. -The dredging ..._" - -Then followed two pages about shells, which Mr. Weston, raising a bored -eyebrow, skipped. - -"_Those books you sent were bully. They look very interesting. I haven't -had time to read them yet. Tell Laura they use boa-constrictors here -instead of cats; and tell her that the flowers are perfectly -wonderful._" - -Then came something about suffrage, ending with a ribald suggestion that -the suffragists should get a Filipino candidate--"_He wouldn't cost so -much as the chief of bosses, Mr. Smith; a Moro will root for 'votes for -women' if you promise him a bottle of whisky._" - -"He is not losing sleep over being rejected," Arthur Weston thought, as -he handed the letter back to her.... He had lost some sleep himself, -lately: "And there's no excuse for it," he told himself; "I didn't -_fall_ in love, I strayed in--in spite of sign-posts on every corner! -And now I'm in, I can't get out. Damn it, I will get out!" But each day -it seemed as if he 'strayed' farther in.... - - -"Why has H. M. gone off?" Laura asked Frederica. - -"Why, you know! Shells," Fred said, astonished at the question. - -"Tell that to the marines. Freddy, you bounced him!" - -"I did not." - -"Well, then, if you didn't, what color are the bridesmaids' dresses to -be?" Laura retorted. - -"Get out!" said Frederica. - - -"Why has Mr. Maitland left town?" Mrs. Payton asked her daughter. - -"Shells." - -"Oh," Mrs. Payton said; "but I thought he--you--I mean, I supposed ... -Freddy, he's a nice fellow. I wish--" - -"Oh, nice enough," Fred admitted, carelessly. - -"She's refused him," Mrs. Payton thought; and sighed. - - -Even Flora had to ask her question: "Mr. Maitland has gone away, they -say, Miss Freddy?" - -"So I hear." - -"Men," said Flora, heavily, "is always going away! Why can't they stay -in one place, same as ladies?" - -"They are not so important as we are," Miss Freddy assured her. - -"If they was all swep' out of the world, it would be just the same to -me," said Flora, viciously. - -Fred kept a severely straight face; all the household knew poor Flora -had had another disappointment. - - -"Why?"--"Why?"--everybody asked. But Frederica only thought "why." Her -first feeling when he went away had been a sort of blank astonishment. -Of course, it was all right; there was no reason he shouldn't go, -only--"Why?" - -Every day, as she worked at her desk, or took a trolley-car to the -suburbs to inspect some apartment, or sat in absorbed silence opposite -her mother at the dinner-table, she was saying, _why_? She was certain -that he was fond of her. "Did he go because he thought I was so deep in -business that I wouldn't bother with him? Or because he wanted to show -me he could put in really serious licks of work? Or because he was -afraid I'd turn him down? Of course, I am awfully matter-of-fact," she -admitted; "but all the same, he's blind if he thinks that!" - -Sometimes, when her mother commented vaguely on the weather, or on -Flora's indelicacy in being so daft about men, or Miss Carter's -perfectly unreasonable wish to go to the theater once a week, besides -her regular evening out--"_I_ don't go once a year," Mrs. Payton -said--Frederica would start and say, "Beg your pardon? I didn't hear -you." Nor would she hear her mother's dreary sigh. - -"Freddy has nothing in common with me," Mrs. Payton used to think, and -sigh again. It did not occur to her to say, "I have nothing in common -with Freddy." Certainly, they had nothing of mutual interest to talk -about.... Mrs. Payton was wondering dully whether she had not better -take a grain of calomel; why they would not eat cold mutton in the -kitchen; whether Flora wouldn't be a little more cheerful now, for Miss -Carter said that the McKnights' chauffeur was making up to her.... Fred -was wondering how soon her last letter would reach Howard Maitland; -foreseeing his interest in its contents--the news that Smith had been -beaten, but pledged to the support of suffrage in his next campaign; -calculating as to the earliest possible date of his reply.... Mrs. -Payton was right; they had nothing in common. By and by, as the weeks -passed, the mother and daughter, together only at meals, lapsed into -almost complete silence. - -"I love both my children _just_ the same, but Mortimore is more of a -companion than she is," Mrs. Payton thought, bitterly. - -There was, however, one moment, in April, when Frederica did talk.... -Mrs. Holmes had come in to dinner, and somehow things started badly. -Mrs. Payton had said, sighing, that she was pretty tired; "I really -haven't got over the Christmas rush, yet," she complained. And -Frederica, with a shrug, said that the Christmas debauch was getting -worse each year. Then the suffrage parade was discussed. It had taken -place the day before, in brilliant sunshine, and on perfectly dry -streets, which greatly provoked Mrs. Holmes, who had prayed for rain. -Naturally, she made vicious thrusts at the women who took their dry-shod -part in it. She was thankful, she said, that William Childs had locked -Laura up; anyhow, _she_ hadn't disgraced the family! - -"Do you call taking her to St. Louis 'locking her up'?" Fred inquired. -"Laura gave in to Billy-boy, which was rather sandless in her. She is a -dear, but she hasn't much sand." - -"She has decency, which is better. To show yourselves off to a lot of -coarse men--" - -"Mr. Weston watched the procession." - -"Only coarse women would do such a thing! And Arthur Weston might have -had something better to do!" - -Frederica held on to herself; she even refrained from quoting Mr. -Weston's comment on the parade: "No doubt there were women in the -procession who liked to be conspicuous; but there were others who -marched with the consecration of martyrs and patriots!" But of course -it needed only a word to bring an explosion. The word was innocent -enough: - -"That Maitland boy," said Mrs. Holmes--"I've dropped my napkin, Flora; -pick it up--why did he suddenly leave everything and go off?" - -"Freddy says he's gone to dig shells," said Mrs. Payton. - -"Dig what?" said Mrs. Holmes; "people mumble so nowadays, nobody can -understand them! Oh, shells? Yes. Funny thing to do, but I believe it's -quite the thing for rich young men to amuse themselves in some -scientific way. I suppose it doesn't need brains, as business does." - -"It isn't amusement," Frederica said; "it's work." - -Upon which her grandmother retorted, shrewdly: "Anything you do because -you want to, not because you have to, is an amusement, my dear. Like -your real-estate business." - -Frederica's lip hardened. - -"However," Mrs. Holmes conceded, "to make his way in the world, a rich -man, fortunately, doesn't need to be intelligent, any more than a pretty -girl needs to be clever"--she gave her granddaughter a malicious glance; -"all the same, young Maitland had better settle down and get married, -and spend some of the Maitland money. (There goes my napkin again, -Flora!)" - -"I'd have no respect for him, if he did," Fred said. "He would be too -much like this family--living on dead brains." - -Her grandmother turned angry eyes on Mrs. Payton. "You may know what -your daughter means, Ellen; I'm sure I don't!" - -"I'll tell you what I mean," Frederica said, "you and Mother simply -live on the money your husbands made and left you when they died. Since -you were a girl, when you had to work because you were poor, you have -never done a hand's turn to earn your living. Mother has never done -anything. You are both parasites. Well, I am, too; but there's this -difference between us: I am ashamed, and you are not. I am trying to do -something for myself. But the only thing you two will do for yourselves -will be to die." She looked at her speechless grandmother, appraisingly. -"Yes, death will be a real thing to you, Grandmother. You can't get -anybody else to do your dying for you." - -"Ellen! _Really!_" Mrs. Holmes gasped out. - -"Freddy, stop!" her mother said, hysterically. - -"Well, what have either of you ever done to earn what you are at this -moment eating?" Fred inquired, calmly. - -Mrs. Payton was speechless with displeasure, but Mrs. Holmes, shivering -from the chill of that word Fred had used, helped herself wildly from a -dish Flora had been holding, unnoticed, at her elbow. "Ellen, I simply -will not come here, if you allow that girl to speak in this way--before -a servant, too!" she added, as Flora retreated to the pantry. - -"I merely told the truth," Fred said, with a bored look. - -"Well," said her grandmother, "then _I_ will tell you the truth! You are -a very unpleasant girl. And I don't wonder you are not married--no man -would be such a fool as to ask you! A girl who cheapens herself by -locking herself up in empty flats with any young man she happens to -meet, and signs indecent petitions, and rants in the public streets to a -lot of strikers--why, you are not a _lady_! You are as plain as a -pike-staff; and you have no manners, and no sense, and no heart--you've -nothing but cleverness, which is about as attractive to a man as a hair -shirt! Maria Spencer told me she expected you would be ruined; but I -said I would think better of you if you were capable of being ruined, or -if anybody wanted to ruin you. You are not a woman; you are a -suffragist! That's why you haven't any charm; not a particle!" - -"Thank Heaven!" Frederica murmured. - -"Well, unless men have changed since my day," Mrs. Holmes said, shrilly, -"a man wants charm in a woman, more than he wants brains." - -"It is a matter of indifference to me what men want," Fred commented. - -Her grandmother did not notice the interruption--"Though when _we_ were -young, some of us had brains and charm, too! There! That's the truth, -and how do you like it? Ellen, why do you have your napkins starched so -stiffly--they won't stay on your lap a minute!" - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -"I never noticed her looks," Howard Maitland was saying, as he and -another member of the Survey Expedition lounged against the railing of -their tubby little vessel and looked idly down on an oily sea. They had -been talking about women--or Woman, as Frederica Payton would have -expressed it; and, naturally, she herself came in for comment. - -"Pretty?" Thomas Leighton had asked, sleepily. It was very hot, and the -flats smelt abominably; both men were muddy and dripping with -perspiration. - -Howard meditated: "I never noticed her looks. She keeps you hustling so -to know what she's talking about, that looks don't count. She says -things that make you sit up--but lots of girls do that." - -"They do. Boring after the first shock. But they enjoy it. It draws -attention to 'em. Our grandmothers used to faint all over the lot, for -the same purpose." - -"Sometimes," Howard said, grinning, "when they get going about sex, I -don't know where to look!" - -"Look at _them_. That's what they want. And as most of 'em don't know -what they're talking about, you needn't be uncomfortable. When they -orate on Man's injustice to Woman--capital M and capital W--I get a -little weary." - -"I'm with 'em, there!" Maitland said. - -The older man gave a grunt of impatience: "It isn't men who are unfair -to women; it's Nature. But I don't see what can be done about it. Even -the woman's vote won't be very successful in bucking Nature." - -"I don't agree with you! Nature is perfectly impartial. Brain has no -sex!" - -"Nature impartial?" Leighton repeated, grimly; "Maitland, when the time -comes for you to sit outside your wife's room, and wait for your -first-born, you will not call Nature impartial. Theories are all very -pretty, but just try waiting outside that door--" his face twitched; and -Howard, remembering vaguely that Mrs. Leighton had been an invalid since -the birth of their only child, changed the subject: - -"Miss Payton's just sent me a cartload of suffrage literature; came on -the tug yesterday." - -"Suffragist?--you, I mean?" - -"Yes; aren't you? Let's get in the flap of that sail." - -"Do I look like a suffragist?" the other man demanded. - -Howard surveyed him. "I don't know the earmarks, but you show traces of -intelligence, so I suppose you are." - -"I'll tell you the earmarks--in the human male: amiable youth or -doddering age." - -"You're not guilty on the amiability charge, and you don't visibly -dodder. So I suppose you're an anti." - -"Not on your life! It's a case of a plague on both your houses." - -They were silent for a while, looking across the lagoon at a low reef -where, all day long, the palms bent and rustled in the hot wind; then -Leighton broke out: "For utter absence of logic I wouldn't know which -party to put my money on." - -"Play the antis," Howard advised. - -But the other man demurred. "It's neck and neck. Some of the arguments -of the antis indicate idiocy; but some of the suffs' arguments indicate -mania--homicidal mania! It's a dead heat. It's queer," he ruminated; -"each side has sound reasons for the faith that is in it, yet they both -offer us such a lot of--_truck_! One of the mysteries of the feminine -mind, I suppose." He knocked the ashes out of his pipe on the deck-rail, -and yawned. "As an example of 'truck,' I heard an anti say that for a -woman to assume the functions of a man, and vote, was to 'revert to the -amoeba.' Can you match that? But, on the other hand, look at the suffs! -My own sister-in-law (a mighty fine woman) told me that men 'were of no -use except to continue the race.'" - -"That's going some!" - -"But of course," the older man said, "it is ridiculous to make sex -either a qualification or a disqualification for the ballot; and it's -absurd that my wife shouldn't have a vote when that old Portuguese fool -from Gloucester, Massachusetts, who guts our fish and can't speak -English so that an American dog could understand him--has it." - -"That's just it!" Howard said, surprised at his fairness. - -"Why multiply him by two?" Leighton said, dryly. - -"We wouldn't be a democracy if we discriminated against the uneducated!" - -"I don't. I discriminate against the unintelligent. You'll admit -there's a difference? Also, allow me to remind you that democracy is not -the ballot; it's a state of mind." - -"Very well!" Maitland retorted. "Make intelligence the qualification: -the women put it over us every time! They are far more intelligent than -men." - -"I'd like to hear you prove it." - -"That's easy! Girls can stay in school longer than boys, so they are -better educated." - -"But I'm not talking about schooling!" Leighton broke in; "I mean just -common sense as to functions of the ballot. Let women ask for an -intelligence qualification, and I'll be the biggest kind of a suff! But -while they don't know any more about what the ballot can and can't do, -than to gas about its raising woman's wages--oh, Lord!" he ended, -hopelessly. - -"Suffrage in itself is educating," Howard instructed him. - -Leighton nodded. "It ought to be. But I can't see that it has -perceptibly educated our fish-gutter. Still, you'd like to meet his wife -at the polls?" - -The suffragist hesitated: "When women get the vote, they'll change the -election laws, and weed out the unfit." - -Leighton lifted despairing hands: "When you say things like that, I feel -like putting my money on the suffs! Mait, get out of the cradle! Our -grandfathers made a mess of it, by dealing out universal male suffrage; -and our fathers made a worse mess in giving it to the male negro; now -the women want to make asses of themselves, just as we did. They are -always yapping about being our 'equals.' They _are_! They are as big -fools as we are. Bigger, for they have the benefit of observing our -blunders, and being able to avoid them--and they won't do it! Because -Mr. Portugee has the ballot, Mrs. Portugee must have it, too. They say -it wouldn't be 'fair' to leave her out. You'd think they were a parcel -of schoolgirls! If women would ask for a limited suffrage, ask for the -vote for my wife, so to speak--a vote for _any_ intelligent woman, cook -or countess!--I'd hold up both hands, and so would most men." - -"It isn't practical." - -"Practical enough, if we wanted to do it. And think what we could -accomplish--the intelligent men, _and_ the intelligent women! The people -who buy and sell Mr. Portugee would be snowed under;--which is the -reason the corrupt element in politics object to a limited suffrage for -women! They need Mr. Portugee in their business, and rather than lose -him, they'll take Mrs. P., too. So what's the use of talking? Votes for -Women will come, in spite of all the antis in the land, for in this -woman's scrimmage, though the antis have the charm, the suffragists have -the brains; and brains always win, no matter how bad the cause! They'll -get it--I'm betting that they'll get it in five years." - -"You ought to hear Miss Payton talk about it," Maitland said; "she'd -floor you every time. She's got a mighty pretty cousin," he rambled off; -"_she_ has charm." - -"Suffragist?" - -"Laura Childs? You bet she is! And she has brains. Not like Miss Payton, -of course. But--" he straightened up, and his eyes began to shine; his -description of Laura was so explicit that his companion smiled. - -"Oh, that's the lay of the land, is it?" he said. - -To which Howard responded by telling him to go to thunder. "Trouble with -Miss Childs," he said, "is that the fellows are standing in a queue up -to her father's door-steps, waiting to get a chance at her." - -"Why did you step out of line?" - -"I'll tell you the kind of a girl she is," Howard said, ignoring the -question. "Of course, a man never would get stuck with Laura at a dance, -but she's the kind, if she _thought_ he was stuck, would make some sort -of excuse--say she wanted to speak to her mother--so as to shake him. No -man ever wants to get clear of Laura, but she's that kind of girl. -That's why men hang round so." - -"You evidently didn't hang round?" - -Howard yawned. "Did I show you the pearl I found yesterday?" he asked, -and produced, after much rummaging in his various pockets, a twist of -paper. Leighton inspected the pearl without enthusiasm. - -"Good so far as it goes. Hardly big enough for the ring." - -Howard gave him a thrust in the ribs. "I'm going down to the cabin." - -In his sweltering state-room he looked at his find, critically. "No, it -isn't big enough," he decided. "Well, maybe I'll never have a chance to -produce a ring," he added, dolefully; then he dropped the pearl into his -collar-box, and mopped the perspiration from his frowning forehead. -"Wonder if I shall ever be cool enough in this life to wear a collar?" -he speculated. After all, why _had_ he stepped out of the line? "I wish -I'd prospected before I left home!" Yet he realized that he had not -known how much Laura counted in his life until he got away from her. Out -here, "digging for buried treasure" in the blazing sun, lying on deck -through velvet, starlit nights, the recollection of that "queue" lining -up at Billy-boy's front door-steps had become first an irritation, and -by and by an uneasiness. He had had one card from her,--"_7° above. -Don't you wish you were as cold as we are?_" The photograph on the back -revealed a snowy mountain-side that was tantalizing to a man who had -nothing to look at but blazing, palm-fringed reefs, and who, for weeks, -had been sweating at 104°. And it was not only the temperature that -tantalized him--in the foreground of the picture were half a dozen of -his set on skis. Laura, in a sweater and a woolly white toque, was -putting a mittened hand into Jack McKnight's, to steady herself. Howard -had not liked that card. "McKnight's got on his Montreal rig, all -right," he thought, contemptuously; "he always dresses for the part!" - -It was that postal which had aroused his uneasiness about the queue, and -set him to counting the weeks until he could get into the line again. -Also, it made him write rather promptly to Frederica Payton: - -"_Hasn't Jack McKnight got any job? He's a pretty successful loafer if -he can go off skiing all around the clock. Why doesn't Laura put an -extinguisher on him? How is Laura? I suppose she and Jack are having the -time of their young lives this winter._" - -It was well on in July before Fred's reply to that particular letter -reached him, and it made him tell Tom Leighton that Miss Payton--"You -remember I told you about her?"--was the finest woman he had ever known. -"No sentimental squash about Freddy Payton!" This tribute was given -because Fred had said: - -"_Laura hasn't confided in me, but I'm betting that she'll turn Jack -McKnight down. He's not good enough to black her boots, and nowadays -women demand that men_--" - -At this point Howard folded the letter and put it in his pocket. -"Laura'll bounce him!" he said to himself; and for the next hour he -expatiated to Mr. Leighton upon the charm of common sense in a -woman--the woman being Miss Payton, of whom his hearer was getting just -a little tired; but he was confused, too. At the end of an hour his -gathering perplexity found words: - -"But I thought it was the pretty cousin you were gone on?" - -"You did, did you?" Howard said. "Digging shells has affected your -brain, Tommy." - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -Spring had sauntered very slowly up the Ohio Valley that year. During a -cold and slushy April, Frederica paid her advertising bills, and was -assured that the Misses Graham would want her to engage an apartment for -them in the autumn. Also, she found a flat for a lady with strikingly -golden hair, who later departed without paying her rent. This created a -disgruntled landlord and instructed the real-estate agent in the range -of adjectives disgruntled landlords can use. In May she was almost busy -in finding houses on the lake and in the mountains for summer residents; -but her traveling expenses to and from the various localities were so -large that she had to apply to her man of business for an advance from -her allowance. - -"Look here, Fred," he said, "you can't live on your future commission -from Cousin Eliza. Don't you think you've had about enough of this kind -of thing?" - -"I do not!" she said. "You can sponge my head between rounds, but you -can't stop the mill. I don't pull off the gloves till I see it through. -And I'm twenty-two dollars ahead of last month!" - -She had induced him to go with her and Zip to see the tiny furnished -cottage she had hired for the summer in Lakeville--the cheerfully -vulgar suburb of Laketon where persons of her own sort played at -farming. Lakeville was only a handful of flimsy frame houses scattered -along under the trees close to the sedgy edge of the lake. Wooden piers -ran out into deep water, and, when the season opened, collected joggling -fleets of skiffs and canoes about their slimy piles. As yet, the houses -were unoccupied, but the spirit of previous tenants, as indicated by -names painted above the doors--"Bide-a-Wee," and "Herestoyou"--had been -very social. Sentimental minds were confessed in "Rippling Waves," and -"Sweet Homes." Fred's "bungalow," its shingled sides weathered to an -inoffensive gray, was labeled, over its tiny piazza, "Sunrise Cottage." - -"I think that's why I took it," she told Mr. Weston, when, having -inspected its shoddy interior and paused on the porch to look at the -far-off church spire of Laketon, they wandered down to a ledge of rock -that jutted out into the lake; "women are going to raise the sun of -freedom!" - -"I hope they won't, accidentally, raise Cain," he murmured. "Fred, the -lamp on your center-table almost put my eyes out! Do the Lakevillians -really think that kind of junk beautiful?" - -"They do. But don't be cocky; we thought it beautiful ourselves not so -very long ago--if it was only expensive enough! Look at the parlor in -Payton Street." - -"That magenta shade with the autumn leaves on it is the most horrible -thing I ever saw," he said, shuddering. - -"I shall have lots of candles and a student's lamp to mitigate it," she -comforted him. - -They had settled down on the rock, Zip dozing against Fred's knee. It -was an exquisite May afternoon. Everything was very still; once a bird -fluted in the distance, and once, on the piazza of a boarded-up cottage, -a chipmunk scurried through the drift of last year's leaves. A haze of -heat lay on the water that crinkled sometimes under a cat's-paw of wind, -and then lapped faintly in the sedges. The woods, crowding close to the -shore, were showing the furry grayness of young oak leaves, and here and -there a maple smoldered into flame. Frederica, absently poking a twig -under patches of lichen and flaking them off into the water, was saying -to herself that in about six months Howard Maitland would be at home. - -"Lakeville is so unnecessarily hideous," Mr. Weston meditated; "I can't -see why you should like it." - -"Because my friends come here--people who _work_! I'm going to start a -suffrage club for them." - -"How grateful they will be!" he said. His amiability when he was bored -was very marked. - -"But I had to cave," Fred said, "about having Flora here when I stay all -night. The Childs family felt they would be compromised if people in -Laketon knew that Billy-boy's niece flocked by herself in Lakeville. The -Childses are personages in Laketon! Aunt Bessie is the treasurer of the -antis, and runs a gambling-den on Thursday afternoons--she calls it her -Bridge Club. And Billy-boy has a Baconian Club, Saturday nights. My, how -useful they are! As my unconventionality would injure their value to -society, I said I would hold Flora's hand. How much use do you suppose -Flora would be if thieves broke in to steal?" - -"She would be another scream. And you'll like to have her wash the -dishes for you." - -"Flora is too much in love to wash dishes well," Fred said. "Besides, I -don't mind washing 'em, and _I_ do it well. The idea that women who -_think_ can't do things like that is silly. We do housework, or any -other work, infinitely better than slaves." - -"'Slaves' being your mothers and grandmothers?" - -Frederica nodded, prying up a piece of moss and snapping the twig off -short. - -"Oh, Fred, you are very funny!" - -"Glad I amuse you. Pitch me that little stick under your foot." - -He handed it to her, and she began to dig industriously into the cracks -and crevices of the old gray rock. "The idea of calling Mrs. Holmes a -slave is delightful," he said. - -"She is a slave to her environment! Do you think she would have dared to -do the things I do?" - -"She wouldn't have wanted to." - -"You evade. Well, I suppose you belong to another generation." Arthur -Weston winced. "Don't you think it's queer," she ruminated, "that a man -like Howard Maitland is satisfied to fool around with shells?" Whenever -she spoke of Howard, a dancing sense of happiness rose like a wave in -her breast. "Why doesn't he get into politics, and do something!" she -said. Her voice was disapproving, but her eyes smiled. - -"Perhaps he likes to keep his hands clean." - -"Oh," she said, vehemently, "that's what I hate about men. The good -ones, the decent ones, are so afraid of getting a speck of dirt on -themselves! That's where women--not Grandmother's kind--are going to -save the world. _They_ won't mind being smirched to save the race!" - -"Frederica," her listener said, calmly, "when that time comes, may God -have mercy on the race. Your grandmother (I speak generically) thought -she saved the race by keeping clean." - -"And letting men be--" she paused to find a sufficiently vehement word. -"It's the double standard that has landed us where we are; it has made -men vile and kept women weak. We'll go to smash unless we have one -standard." - -"Which one?" he asked; "yours or ours?" - -"You know perfectly well," she said, for once affronted. - -"I only asked for information. There's no denying that there are members -of your sex who rather incline to our poor way of doing things. Oh, not -that we are not a bad lot; only, to be our equals, it isn't necessary to -sit in the gutter with us. Continue to be our sup--" - -"Let's cut out bromides," she said. "You (I, also, speak generically)--" - -"Thanks so much!" - -"--have pulled enough of your 'superiors' down to share your gutter. -It's time now for men to get out of the gutter and come up to us." - -"You breathe such rarefied air," he objected. He really wished that on a -day of such limpid loveliness she would stop undressing life. He liked -to be amused, but once in a while Frederica was just a little too -amusing, and he was in the faintest degree bored, as one is bored by a -delightful and obstreperous child. He gazed dreamily into the spring -haze, watched a ripple spread over the lake, and noted a leaning willow -dip its flowing fingers into the water. - -"Did you see that fish jump?" he asked. - -Frederica gave a disgusted grunt. "Men are all alike. You talk common -sense to them and they go to sleep!" - -[Illustration: "DID YOU SEE THAT FISH JUMP?" HE ASKED. FREDERICA GAVE A -DISGUSTED GRUNT] - -"My dear Freddy," he confessed, "you have enunciated a deep truth. The -average poor devil of a male creature, toiling and slaving and digging -into common sense to make a living, isn't very keen on having it crammed -down his throat on his afternoon out. Not that I am that kind of person. -I find your 'common sense' very diverting." - -A little patch of red burned in her cheeks. "That's what has kept women -slaves--'diverting' men! I believe you prefer fools, every one of you." - -"We like our own kind," he teased her. - -"Oh," she said, with sudden passion, "I am in earnest, and you won't be -serious! This is a real thing to me, this emancipation of women. It -means--a new world!" - -"Yet this world," he began--the world before them, with its blue -serenity of a gentle sky, its vitality of bursting buds and warm mists -and cool, lapping water; the world of a woman's soul and body--was not -this enough for any one? Why struggle for change? Why try to upset the -existing order? And Frederica, speaking of such ugly things, was so very -upsetting! As she spoke she looked at him with the naked innocence -which marks the mind of the reformer--that noble and ridiculous mind -which, seeing but one thing, loses so completely its sense of -proportion. The facts she flung at him he would have hidden from the -eyes of girls. Yet he knew that they were facts.... He had protested -that women should trust the chivalry of men, and she had burst out: -"Thank you, I prefer to trust the ballot! 'Chivalry,' and women working -twelve hours a day in laundries! 'Chivalry,' and women cleaning -spittoons in beer-saloons! 'Chivalry,' and prostitution! No, sir! unless -his personal interests are concerned, man's '_chivalry_' is a pretty -rotten reed for women to lean on!" - -The crude words in which she swept away his comfortable evasions made -him cringe, but he could not deny their accuracy, nor avoid the -deduction that one of the reasons there continued to be "ugly" things in -the world was that until now the eyes of women had been holden that they -should not see them. Men had done this. Men had created a code which -made it a point of honor and decency to hide the truth from women; to -shield them, not from the effect of facts, but from the knowledge of -facts! - -Frederica's knowledge was dismaying to Arthur Weston, both from -tenderness for her and from his own esthetic sensitiveness; it was all -so unlovely! - -"How do other men take this sort of talk?" he asked; "the Childs boys, -for instance?" - -"Bobby and Payton? I would as soon talk to Zip as to them! They are like -their father; they have chubby minds. Laura is the only intelligent -person in that family. She gave in to Billy-boy about the parade," Fred -said, regretfully, "but she did go with me last week when I talked -suffrage to the garment-workers. I tell you what--it took sand for Laura -to do that! Uncle William was hopping--not at her, of course, but at -wicked Freddy; and Bobby and Payton cursed me out for leading Laura into -temptation." - -"How about Maitland?" he asked. He had taken Frederica's hand and was -examining her seal ring. She let her fingers lie in his as lightly as -though his hand had been Zip's head, and he found himself wishing that -she were less amiable. - -"Howard?"--her eyes brimmed suddenly with sunshine; "oh, Howard doesn't -belong on the same bench with the chubby Childses! He _thinks_,--and he -entirely agrees with me." - -"Which proves that he thinks?" - -She saw the malice of his question, and rather sharply drew her hand -from his. - -"When is he coming home?" Weston asked. - -"November," she said, shortly, and gave a flake of lichen a vicious jab -that tossed it out into the water. - -"How's he getting along with his shells?" - -"All right, I guess. I don't hear from him very often. He's left the -region of mails. I've sent him a good many pamphlets and an abstract of -a paper I'm writing for the annual meeting of the league. One of these -days he'll stop puddling round with shells and do something, I hope. I -won't let up on him till he does." - -"Merely being a fairly decent fellow isn't enough for you?" - -"Not _nearly_ enough!" - -"Oh, Fred, how young you are!" he sighed; then pulled Zip's tail and was -snapped at. - -Suddenly he looked her straight in the face. "Are you engaged to him?" -he demanded, harshly. - -"Heavens, no!" she said, laughing. - -His hands tightened around his knees; he opened his lips, then closed -them hard. "I _almost_ made a fool of myself," he told himself, -afterward. However, his possibilities for folly were not visible to -Frederica, who continued to lay down the law as to the work a man ought -to do in the world. "When we get the vote," she said, "we'll show you -what a citizen's responsibilities are." - -"Thanks so much," he murmured. "You are going to do all the things we -do, I suppose?" - -"Of course," she said, joyfully; "everything--and a lot you don't do -because you are too lazy!" - -"I suppose you will leave us the right to propose?" - -"I'll share it with you," she said, and they both laughed. - -"Oh, my dear Fred," he said, "I must come back to the chestnut: you are -our superiors, and we like you to be. I suppose that's because we are -born hunters and are keen for the unattainable. We won't bag the game if -it roosts on our fists." - -"Well," s he reassured him, springing to her feet, "_I'm_ not going to -roost on your fist; don't be afraid!" - -"Try me," he said, under his breath. But she did not hear him. - -"Come, Zippy, we must go home," she said, and extended a careless hand -to Arthur Weston, as if to help him rise. He pretended not to see it. - -("The next thing will be a wheeled chair!" he told himself, hotly.) - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -On the first of June Frederica transferred herself and a somewhat -reluctant Flora from Payton Street to Lakeville. - -"Flora thinks her beau won't go out there to see her," Miss Carter -explained. - -"Nonsense!" Fred said. "If he wants to see her he'll come, and if he -doesn't want to see her she'd better find it out now." But she was not -entirely unsympathetic, and told Flora there would be a piano in the -cottage so that the music lessons could be continued--which raised the -cloud a little. - -A day or two later Mrs. Holmes called at No. 15 to bid Mrs. Payton -good-by for the summer, and the next week the Childses dropped in, in -the evening, for the same purpose. They all made their annual remark: -"How _can_ you stay in town in the hot weather?" And Mrs. Payton made -her annual reply: "I hate summer resorts. I'm much more comfortable in -my own house." Nobody asked the real question, "How can you stay here -with Morty?" And Mrs. Payton never gave the real explanation: "My life -is perfectly empty except for Mortimore; that's why I stay with him." - -When they had all left town Mrs. Payton, who changed her under-flannels -and packed up her winter blankets by the calendar, put the stuffed -furniture into linen covers, and told Anne to keep the shutters bowed -all over the house--except in the ell; the sun was never shut out of the -room with the iron bars over the windows. Then summer sleepiness took -possession of the household. No one disturbed the quiet except when, -occasionally, Arthur Weston, bored and kindly, dropped in to ask for a -cup of tea. He told himself once, after a dull hour of drinking very hot -tea and listening to plaintive details of Freddy's behavior, that he was -going to leave directions in his will to have inscribed upon his -tombstone, "_He seen his duty, and he done it._" It occurred to him that -he would not wait for the tombstone to suggest that same duty to -Frederica.... - -As the Payton house fell into somnolence, Payton Street woke up. The -air, stagnant between sun-baked brick walls, was a medley of noises that -sometimes sank to a rumbling diapason, or sometimes stabbed the ear in -single discords: the jangle of mule-bells, the bumping of the car on the -switch, the jolt of milk-wagons over the cobblestones. In the -provision-store all day long a parrot vociferated; from the -livery-stable came the monotonous pounding of hoofs, or, when Mr. Baker -sent out a hearse and some funeral hacks, the screech of grating wheels. -Hand-organs came and went. Fruit-dealers cried their -wares--"Strawberries! Strawberries! Strawb--" The ailanthus-shaded -pavements swarmed with shrill-voiced children; they summoned one another -to pull the parrot's tail or to look at the hearse; they assailed the -ice-carts, reveling in the drip from the tail-boards and sucking what -bits of ice they could scrape up. Sometimes they squabbled raucously, -sometimes wept; sometimes, hushing their betraying giggles, crept into -Mrs. Payton's front yard and climbed up on the iron dog "to play -circus"--until Mrs. Payton, always on the watch, discovered them and -sent Miss Carter down to drive them away. - -Except for skirmishes with the marauding children, Mrs. Payton's days -were very placid. She worked out new puzzles and dozed through stories -in the magazines. She wrote twice a week dutiful letters to her mother, -pausing occasionally to think of something to say or to listen, -absently, to the swish of the watering-cart along the street; she liked -the wet smell of the watered cobblestones mingling with the heavy odor -of the blossoming ailanthus. There never seemed to be anything to tell -Mrs. Holmes, except that she had been dreadfully busy, and that the -"accommodating" waitress didn't keep her sink clean, and that the -barber's children were very trying. Every fine afternoon, sitting -opposite Miss Carter and Morty, she drove out to the park and home -again. Once she summoned up all her energy and went to Lakeville to -spend a day with Fred. She thought that if she didn't go, Freddy would -believe she preferred to stay with Morty. ("Oh, if I _only_ hadn't told -her I loved him best!" she used to reproach herself.) It was a bitter -thing to Mrs. Payton to pass through Laketon and see the place where a -Payton girl ought to be, "instead of living with all kinds of people in -Lakeville!" When Fred met her at the station and brought her to the ugly -little cottage--its garish interior vivid, now, with yellow -pennons--she tried, for the sake of peace, to restrain her disapproval -of everything she saw, but she couldn't help saying she wondered how -Fred could stand the solferino lamp-shade. - -"Hideous," Frederica said, carelessly, "so why look at it? I never look -at our Iron Virgin." - -"There is some difference in value," Mrs. Payton reproved her. - -"No, only in cost," her daughter said; then saw the color mount into her -mother's face, and gritted her teeth. ("I needn't have said that--but -it's true! Darn it, I _am_ like him!") After that she tried to think of -something pleasant to say, but what was there to talk about?--only the -waitress, and the heat, and the barber's dirty children. Indeed, it -would have been difficult to decide which found that visit to the -bungalow the most trying, the mother or the daughter. Certainly it was a -relief to both of them when it was over. - -"Mother came out to the camp and I wasn't a bit nice to her," Fred -bemoaned herself, one day, to Arthur Weston, when he met her entering -No. 15 just as he was leaving it. He turned back and followed her into -the parlor. - -"And nobody can be so un-nice as you, when you put your mind on it," he -said, genially. - -She laughed. "You never talk through your hat to me; you're straight. -That's why I like you." - -"Then you'll like me more, for I'm going to be very straight," he warned -her. He looked about for any kind of a cool seat, but subsided into a -linen-covered feather-bed of a chair, close to the bust of Mr. Andrew -Payton; his eye-glasses on their black ribbon dangling in a thread of -sunshine, sent faint lights back and forth on the ceiling. "Life is very -dull for your mother," he said, fanning himself with his hat; "why don't -you come in oftener?" - -Frederica, on the piano-stool, struck a careless octave. "Life dull? -Why, I think it's wildly exciting! As for coming in, I'm too busy." - -"Reforming the world? You might begin the reformation by making things -happier here. Happiness is a valuable reformatory agent. You could cheer -Mrs. Payton up, but you prefer 'being busy.'" - -Fred colored. He had spoken to her once before in this same peremptory -way, and she had been angry; now she was embarrassed. "I'm on my job. -I've started a suffrage league--" - -"There are other people who can start leagues. There is only one person -who can make your mother happy." - -"Mr. Weston, the relative value of picture puzzles and the emancipation -of women--" - -That made him really indignant; he stopped fanning himself and looked at -her with hard eyes. "The doing of the immediate duty by each individual -woman will emancipate the sex a good deal quicker than talking! You -needn't stop your suffrage work to do your duty as a daughter. Did you -ever hear anything about bearing one another's burdens?" - -"Sounds like the Bible," Fred said. - -"It is. I commend the book as a course in sociology." - -"But," she defended herself, "I _do_ come home quite often. I'm going -to be here to-night. I'm going to a dinner dance at the Country Club, -and I'm coming back here to stay all night." - -"Yes, you will come for your own convenience, not your mother's -pleasure. See here, Fred! You once asked me if you were like your -father,"--involuntarily she raised her hand, as if to fend off a -blow--"I had great respect for Mr. Payton in many ways, but he had the -selfishness of power. _So have you._ Whew!" he ended, rising, "I believe -it's a hundred in the shade!" - -Fred was silent. - -"I am coming out to Lakeville in a day or two. Got my new car yesterday, -and I am burning to display it." - -Still she was silent. A watering-cart lumbered by and some children -squealed in a sudden cold splash. - -"Until now," he said, "I have believed that you were a good sport." - -"And now you think I'm not?" - -"You don't seem to know what the word Duty means;--which is another way -of saying that you don't play the game." - -"If the game is to make things pleasant for Mortimore, and put picture -puzzles together, I don't care to play it," she said, cockily. She -followed him to the front door and stood there as he went down the -steps. But when he reached the gate she darted after him and clapped a -frank hand on his shoulder. "_You're_ a dead game sport! I don't know -any other man who'd have biffed me right in the face like that." - -"I skinned my own knuckles," he admitted, with a droll gesture of -rubbing a bruised hand. "Still, I don't mind, if it does you good." - -"Cheer up! Maybe it will," she said, and, laughing, threw a kiss to him -and vanished into the house. He laughed, too--then frowned. "She -wouldn't have kissed her hand to Maitland. I don't count," he thought. -As he walked off, hugging the shady side of the street, he added, "I -_am_ a fool!" - -Frederica had not the slightest intention of becoming immediately -domestic, but as she went up-stairs to dress she happened to glance down -the little corridor in the ell, and there, outside Morty's door, was -poor, faithful Miss Carter. Her one night off a week, when Mrs. Baker, -from the livery-stable, took her place, did not suffice to lessen very -much the burden of Morty's perpetual society, and that and the heat had -obviously worn upon her. - -"Miss Carter, why don't you go to the theater?" Frederica called to her, -impulsively. "I'll stay with Morty to-night. I suppose we can't get Mrs. -Baker on such short notice?" - -"No, she can't come except on her regular night; and you are going to a -dance, Miss Freddy," the tired woman objected, rather faintly. - -"Nonsense! I don't care about dancing. Go ahead. Get a ticket for 'Heels -and Toes.' It's corking." - -Her mother followed her into her room to thank her. "That's very sweet -of you, Freddy. Not that Morty needs anybody when he once gets to sleep; -so far as that goes, I don't need to go to the expense of having Mrs. -Baker here on Miss Carter's evenings out; but I like to feel there's -some one near, you know." - -"It's less lonely for you," Fred said, with unwonted insight. - -"Yes," Mrs. Payton agreed, wistfully. "She's somebody to talk to. You -needn't sit in Morty's room; outside the door will do. And I'll sit with -you." - -"I want to read, so I'll sit inside by the light." - -"Well, don't be nervous. He won't stir." - -"I'm not in the least nervous," Fred said; "I'm only--disgusted." - -Mrs. Payton's chin quivered. "You ought not to speak so about your -brother. Remember, even if he isn't--bright, he's a _man_, and the head -of the family." Fred looked at her with genuine curiosity; how could she -say a thing like that! "Besides," Mrs. Payton added, "Doctor Davis -always said his intellect was there; it isn't his fault that it is -veiled." - -"No, it isn't _his_ fault," Frederica said, significantly. She took her -book into the bare room, which could not be carpeted or curtained -because of the poor, destroying hands that sometimes had to be tied for -fear they would claw and snatch, even at Miss Carter's heavy chair or at -the table, screwed down to the floor. There was a drop-light over the -table, and Frederica turned it on and opened her book; but she did not -read much; the snoring breath from the bed disturbed her. Instead, she -fell to thinking about Howard Maitland--sometimes she was impatient with -herself for thinking of him so constantly! But the warm satisfaction -that took possession of her whenever he came into her mind, was an -irresistible temptation. She did not often speculate upon his feeling -for her. "He's fond of me," she told herself, once in a while, -contentedly. That some time he would tell her he was fond of her was a -matter of course. Just now, she fell to calculating how soon her last -letter would reach him. One from him, acknowledging the receipt of some -suffrage literature, had come that morning. "I don't believe one woman -in fifty has your brains," he had written. Fred smiled; when he came -home in November she would show him those "brains"! Apparently, Mr. -Arthur Weston did not take much stock in them--"He prefers the domestic -virtues," she thought, with a flash of amusement. "I wonder if I'm -domestic enough to suit him, to-night? I suppose he would think it was -better to sit with an idiot than to try to move the world along!" But -the next minute she was contrite. "He can't help being old. I suppose -this is the sort of thing his generation calls 'Duty'!" - -She might have reflected further upon the foolishness of the past -generation, if just then Mrs. Payton had not come stealthily along the -hall. She stood in the doorway, raising a cautioning finger. - -"Oh, you can't wake him," Frederica said, in her natural voice. But Mrs. -Payton spoke in a whisper. - -"Freddy, isn't your cottage damp--so near the lake? There's no surer way -to take cold than--" - -"Not a bit damp!" - -"Does Flora make good coffee for you?" - -"Bully." - -"I hope she's more contented. Miss Carter says the whole trouble with -Flora is she wants to get married, but she makes herself so cheap the -men won't look at her." - -Fred frowned. That word "cheap" always irritated her. - -"Miss Carter is a good woman," Mrs. Payton went on, "but she's a little -coarse once in a while." - -"I suppose Flora wants a home of her own," Fred said, yawning; "when -women have no brains they have to marry for homes." - -"All women want homes, whether they have brains or not," said Mrs. -Payton; "where would they have their babies if they didn't have homes? -Freddy, it must be very lonely for you in Lakeville. Your Uncle William -is really shocked about it. He says there are no people of our class -there." - -"Billy-boy is correct. I had two people of the better class in to supper -last night--_workers_. Mother, one of the things the women's vote is -going to do, besides giving the Floras of the world a chance to be -independent of men, is to obliterate class lines." - -"Then it will have to obliterate life," Mrs. Payton whispered. "Women -need men to take care of them. And as for class, God makes a difference -in people. You can't vote God down." - -It was so unusual for Mrs. Payton to set her opinion against her -daughter's that Frederica laughed, in spite of herself. Mrs. Payton -laughed a little, too; then they both looked at the bed, but the heavy -breathing went steadily on. - -"Your grandmother thinks," Mrs. Payton said, impulsively, "that you -would have more beaux if we lived up on the Hill." - -"That's like her." - -"Freddy dear, you know I have to stay here on account of Morty? Not that -I'd do more for him than for you--I love you both _just_ the same! But I -couldn't take him up on the Hill." - -"'Course you couldn't! Mother, for the Lord's sake, don't listen to -Grandmother! She's one of the type that keeps the world back." - -"She doesn't like change, that's all," Mrs. Payton explained. She came -in and sat down at the table. - -"Yes; she doesn't like change," Fred agreed. "If Nature had listened to -Grandmother we'd all be protoplasm still. Probably the grandmother of -the first worm that sprouted legs, kicked. No, she couldn't kick," Fred -said, chuckling, "because she didn't have the legs she despised; she -just said, 'It isn't _done_!'" - -Mrs. Payton looked perfectly blank. - -"I'm going to use that idea in my paper," Fred said, with satisfaction. - -"Do you think Howard Maitland likes you to write papers, dear?" - -"Likes me to? Why shouldn't he? It wouldn't make a bit of difference to -me whether he did or not, but as he has ordinary garden sense, I am sure -he doesn't dislike it." - -"Men," Mrs. Payton said, timidly, "don't like clever women." - -"Clever men do." - -"Your dear father was clever--but he married me." - -The simplicity of that was touching, even to Frederica. - -"You were a thousand times too good for him!" - -Mrs. Payton was pleased, but she made the proper protest: "Oh, my -_dear_! I had a letter from your grandmother yesterday; she thinks it's -shocking--your living in Lakeville alone." - -"Go on!" Frederica said, contemptuously. - -"Hush-sh!" Mrs. Payton cautioned her. - -Fred shrugged her shoulders. "You can't wake--_That_. Talk about being -shocked,--I suppose it never occurred to Uncle William or Grandmother -that their ideas of what is and isn't shocking, produced That?" - -Mrs. Payton shrunk away as if her daughter had struck her; she murmured, -chokingly, some wounded remonstrance, then tiptoed through the shadowy -hall into the sitting-room. At the table, spread with an unfinished game -of Canfield, she sat down, drearily. This was what always happened; they -simply could not get along together! Whenever she held out empty hands, -begging for love, they were slapped. She began to shuffle the cards, -wondering painfully if it was because Freddy was still brooding over -that thing she said about loving Mortimore best. "I'm afraid she's -jealous," Mrs. Payton sighed. - -Frederica, alone, reflected upon her mother's assertion that men -disliked clever women. It annoyed her, not because there was any truth -in it, but because it reminded her of Woman's cowardly acquiescence in -Man's estimate of her intelligence. Of course it was all right about -Howard; Howard had sense! But men generally--did they really dislike -clever women? If so, it merely meant that they were afraid of Truth. -They wanted women to be timid, and pretty, and useless: to be slaves and -playthings!--so they fooled them into the belief that silliness was -attractive, and that slavery and virtue were the same thing. It was men -who had taught women to believe that awful thing her mother had said -about Morty's being "the head of the family"; had taught them to believe -that a man--not because he was good, or wise, or strong, but because he -was a _man_--was the one to rule! - -"No wonder we are slaves; we've swallowed that lie since Adam. Well, -there'll be none of it in mine!" she said. What was going to be in -"hers"? Business, to begin with. She was going to make a success of her -business. Her books had shown a better month--they should show a still -better month, if she wore her shoes out walking about town to please -clients! Yes, Success! It was not a personal ambition: there was no -self-seeking in Fred Payton; she wanted to succeed because her success -would show what women could do; show that a woman was as able as a -man--as wise, as good ("better! better!" she told herself); show that a -woman could rule, could achieve, could be "the head of the family"! The -thing that was to be "in hers" was work to free women from the shackles -of the old ideals, from content in sex slavery, with all its ignorances -and futilities, its slackness of purpose and shameful timidities, that a -man-made world had called "duties." And Howard, who was not "afraid of -clever women," would help her! A passion of consecration to the woman's -cause rose in her heart like a wave. For the next hour she walked up and -down the dimly lighted room, planning what she was going to do for -women. - -It was nearly twelve when Miss Carter's ponderous step told her she was -free. She laughed good-naturedly at the thanks the refreshed woman was -eager to give, but just as she was leaving the room Miss Carter's last -word caught her ear: - -"I've had such a pleasant time, Miss Freddy. I'll do my work better for -it." - -'Do her work better.'... In her eagerness to do her own work Fred had -never thought very much of other people's; but what a different world it -would be if everybody did their work better! "If every woman did her -best on her job, even if it were only taking care of Mortimores, it -would help things along," she told herself. "It's slackness on the job -that holds the world back." Looked at from that angle, then--the -bettering of Miss Carter's work--perhaps it did count to make things -pleasant at Payton Street? The idea put a new light on Mr. Weston's -call-down. Bearing other people's burdens had seemed not in the least -worth while; but if cheering people up helped them to do their -work--work which, after all, had to be done, somehow!--why, then there -was sense in it. She saw no sense in "cheering" her mother, for her -mother did nothing at all. Frederica had no dutiful illusions; Mrs. -Payton was an absolutely useless human being--and her daughter was -perfectly aware of it. "_She_ has no burden to bear," Fred thought, -carelessly. "But to give old fat Carter a hand by just amusing -her,--that helps the doing of work; and _that_ counts! I'll come in -oftener," she decided. - -So, in her own fashion, by a back door, so to speak, Frederica Payton -entered into the old idea of _Duty_. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -Fred was eager to impart to her man of business her wonderful discovery -that visits to Payton Street should be made, not because of "duty," but -because they were of value to the world. - -"Your premises were wrong, but your deductions were correct," she -instructed him, and he roared with laughter. - -"Fred, you'll discover the Ten Commandments next. It's the same old -result, only you call it by a different name. But go ahead; run the -universe! I don't care what kind of oil you use, so long as the gears -don't stick." - -Mr. Weston's metaphors confessed the fact that he had achieved a motor -so that he might go thirty miles for a cup of tea. He used to come out -to the camp two or three times a week, and, shading his eyes from the -magenta lamp-shade, and the frieze of Japanese fans, and the yellow -"Votes for Women" flags, listen dreamily to Fred's theories for the -running of the universe, and also to that paper on which she was so hard -at work. She wanted his criticism, she said, but, of course, what she -really wanted was his praise. She got it--meagerly, and with so many -qualifications that, when all was said, it hardly seemed like praise at -all. That he was doing his best to make her carry her little torch so -that it might shed its glimmer of light, yet not set things on fire, -never occurred to her. If it had, she would have resented it hotly. As -it was, his temperance never checked her vehemence, but neither did it -irritate her. Her arrogant and shallow certainties, on the contrary, did -occasionally irritate him, and, of course, they never brought him any -conviction; but they did oblige him to be intellectually candid with -himself, and his candor brought him to the point of telling her that he -thought her generation better than his, because it was not afraid of -Truth. "So, perhaps you women may save civilization," he said. - -"Hooray!" said Fred. - -"Hold on," he told her, dryly; "cheers are premature. What I mean is -that feminism, with its hideously bad taste and its demand for Truth, is -_here_, whether we like it or not! It _may_ make the world over, or it -may send us all on the rocks." - -"Nonsense!" - -"The hope in it is your brand-new sense of social responsibility. The -menace is your conceited individualism." - -"Of course you are not conceited yourself," she said, sweetly. - -"I wish you wouldn't interrupt me! I concede that your sense of -responsibility needs the tool of the ballot, just as a farmer needs a -spade when he wants to raise a crop of potatoes. That is why I am -compelled to call myself a suffragist." - -"Hooray!" she said again. - -He looked at her drolly. "It's queer about you--not _you_, but your -sex; you are mentally, but not emotionally, interesting. You are not -nearly as charming as the ladies of my youth; you have no sense of -proportion, and you jolt the life out of a man, by trying to jump the -track the minute you get tired of the scenery. Also you are occasionally -boring. But you can't help that; you are reformers." - -"Are reformers bores?" she said. - -"_Always!_" he declared. - -"Why?" - -"Because," he said, dryly, "they never suffer from any impediment in -their speech." - -Yet he was not so much bored that he stayed away from Lakeville. The -place itself seemed to him entirely funny. Its very respectable -population was made up of hardworking, good-naturedly vulgar folk, whose -taste was painful or amusing, as you might happen to look at it. Once -Fred made him stay to supper, and afterward go to a party with her and -Laura--whose presence had been secured by judicious pressure upon -Billy-boy. This especial festivity was called a "can-can" because the -guests' idea of humor consisted in wearing a string of empty tin cans -over their shoulders, with a resultant noise when they danced which -gave, it seemed, a peculiar joy. Frederica's man of business, sitting on -a bench with several gentlemen who mopped themselves breathlessly after -their exertions and were obviously comfortable in their shirtsleeves, -laughed until, he said, his sides ached. - -"You _like_ it, Fred?" he asked, incredulously--she and Laura had taken -him home with them to give him something cool to drink before he -started on his midnight spin into town. - -"Love it!" she said. - -"Well," he said, "it seems to be a case of 'give me heaven for climate, -but hell for company!' It would bore me to death." - -They were on the little front porch of Sunrise Cottage--Laura lounging -on the lowest step, looking up at the stars, and Arthur Weston sitting -on the railing, sipping ginger-ale. Frederica, standing up, began to -expatiate on the woman's club she had organized. After the first meeting -she had turned it into a suffrage league, under the admiring eyes of -ladies who whispered to each other that she was _the_ Miss -Payton--"_you_ know? Society girl. Why, my husband says the Paytons -could buy up every house in Lakeville and not know they'd put their -hands in their pockets!" Fred had constant afternoon teas for these -ladies--which would have been pleasanter if Flora, when waiting upon -them, had been less haughty. - -"She calls all our neighbors 'common people,'" Fred said. - -Laura laughed: "Wait till we get the vote and we'll have equality, won't -we, Fred?" - -"You bet we will!" - -"You won't," Weston assured them, "because there ain't no such thing. My -dear infants, the Lord made us different, and no vote can change His -arrangements." - -"That's what Mother said; I was quite astonished to have Mother pull off -an opinion on me," Fred said. - -"Your mother has a great many opinions, and mighty sensible ones, too." - -She gave him a surprised look, like a child catching an older person in -a foolish statement. "Oh, well," she said, "of course, it's hard for -people of your generation to keep up with the procession." - -If he flinched, nobody saw it. "You being the 'procession,' I suppose?" -he said, raising an amiable eyebrow--but he did not feel amiable. Then -he looked at his watch and said he must start. - -"Oh, don't go!" Fred entreated. - -"You two girls ought to be in bed," he said. They went with him and -watched him crank his machine; as he threw in the clutch, he called -back, a little anxiously, "Make her loaf, Laura! She's tired." - -Indoors, while they were locking up, Laura giggled. "He's daft about -you, Freddy!" - -"Mr. Weston? My dear, you're mad! He looks on me as a granddaughter." - -"Those aunts or cousins, or whatever they are, of his," Laura said, -sleepily, "are at the hotel, and I went with Mother to call on them. The -old one, who looks like an eagle, is perfectly sweet; but the -pouter-pigeon one said that she did not think the young woman of to-day, -who went into business, 'was calculated to make any man happy.' 'Course, -I knew she was afraid you would catch 'dear Arthur'! But really--" - -"Come on," Fred interrupted, starting up-stairs. - -Laura stumbled along behind her. "Really, I think he is gone on you." - -"Goose!" The idea was too absurd to discuss; instead, when she was -combing her hair Fred called through the partition that separated the -tiny bedrooms and said she wanted to tell Laura something. - -"Come in!" Laura called back; and Frederica, comb in hand, came in, and -sat on the edge of the bed. At first she talked about Flora, who didn't -like to come out to the camp, because it took her away from her beau. -"The McKnight chauffeur is very attentive," Fred said; "fortunately for -me, Jack's going off with the car for all of August, or I'm afraid she'd -leave me, so as to get back to town. Isn't it funny how crazy women in -the lower classes are to get married?" - -Laura nodded, sleepily. - -"Want me to read you Howard's last letter?" Fred said, and took it out -of the pocket of her kimono. - -Laura, curled up on the bed, listened. "He's right," she said, when -Frederica, with due carelessness, read Howard's panegyrics on her -brains; "you are terribly clever, Freddy." - -"Go off!" Fred said. "Laura, he's awfully down on Jack McKnight. You -wouldn't look at him, would you?" - -"At Jack? The idea! If there wasn't another man in the world, I wouldn't -look at Jack." - -"I want you to do something," Fred said. - -"All right. What?" - -"It will take nerve." - -Laura opened her eyes quickly. "If it's another parade--" - -"No! No! Nothing like that. Parades are only to show the strength of the -attacking army. I want you to _attack_!" - -Laura sighed. "But Father and Mother are so opposed--" - -"This is something personal I want you to do." - -Laura was obviously relieved. - -"It's about Jack McKnight. When he proposes to you--" - -"He won't." - -"Don't be silly! He will if you let him. And I want you to let him. -Then, when you turn him down, tell him _why_." - -"Why? He'll know why! Because I'm not in love with him." - -"I want you to tell him the reason you're not in love with him." - -Laura, flushing to her temples, sat up in bed. "It's none of his -business! Or,--or anybody's!" - -"It _is_ his business--to know that a decent woman won't look at a fast -man!" - -"Oh," Laura said, tumbling back on her pillow, "I didn't know you meant -that. I thought you meant ... something else." - -"That's what I'm up to," Frederica said. "I'm going to get all the girls -I know to promise, not only that they won't play with dissipated -fellows, but that they'll tell 'em straight out why they won't!" - -Laura was silent. - -"Truth!" Fred said, flinging up her head, her hair falling back over her -shoulders, and her eyes bold and innocent. "Truth is what we want! If we -can get this bill through the Legislature--'no marriage without a clean -bill of health'--we'll accomplish a lot for the sake of Truth. I wish -you'd signed the petition, Laura. You believe in it?" - -"Of course I believe in it. But imagine trying to make Mama understand -it!--and Father would have had a fit." - -"That's the trouble with women!" Fred said, passionately. "We've been -too much afraid of men having fits. Let 'em have fits! It will be good -for them. We've let them demand that we should be straight, and we've -never had the sand to demand that they should be straight, too. But -we're going to do it now. We are going to demand _Truth_! Oh," she said, -tears suddenly standing in her eyes, "just plain truth, between men and -women, nothing more than that,--would make the world over!" - -Laura sighed and shook her head. "As for playing only with the straight -ones, I don't see how we can know? It doesn't seem fair not to dance -with a man just because some other girl tells you she's heard -something--you'd always hear it from a girl." - -"General reputation," Fred began; but still Laura hesitated. - -"Well, then, when we _do_ know it of ourselves, let's hold together and -turn 'em down. Everybody knows Jack drinks. I've seen him when he was -pretty well loaded," Fred said, her lip drooping with disgust. "He's -crazy about you, Laura; give him a leg up by telling him why you -wouldn't look at him!" - -"Oh, Freddy, really--" - -"This is what I'm going to work for," Frederica said, "to teach women -to teach men! It's our job, because women are more intelligent than -men." - -"I don't think Mother is more intelligent than Father," Laura demurred. - -Fred swallowed her opinion of the collective Childses' intelligence; -"I've thought it all out," she said; "I'm going to give my life up to -urging women to set the pace! And we've both of us got to marry men who -will join our crusade." - -"They won't," Laura prophesied; then added, with sudden, frowning -decision: "anyhow, so far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter. I'm not -going to marry anybody." - -Fred gave her a quick look. "Why?" - -"Well, I don't want to." - -"Of course, marriage generally hampers a woman," Frederica conceded. -"Perhaps because most of us are tied down to the old idea that it's got -to be permanent,--which might be a dreadful bore! I suppose that's a -hold-over from the time that we were chattels, and men taught us to feel -that marriage was permanent--for _us_! They didn't bother much with -permanence for themselves! But I admit that marriage--as men have made -it, entirely for their own comfort and convenience, with its drudgery of -looking after children--is stunting to women. Queer, though, how they -don't mind it! Look at the girls we know--Rose Marks and Mary Morton, -and the rest of our class who are married--they haven't a thought above -their babies and their owners--_they_ call 'em 'husbands'! Did you know -Rose has resigned from the league? She says she hasn't time to attend -the meetings; but I know better. It's because that perfectly piffling -Marks man (how _could_ she marry him?--he has no nose, to speak of, and -such a silly chin!) doesn't approve of us. I suppose you think it's -better for a woman not to marry if she really wants to accomplish -anything?" - -"Well, no; not just that. Men marry, and yet they accomplish things," -Laura said. - -Frederica frowned. The suggestion of a fundamental difference in men and -women annoyed her. "Of course, it doesn't follow that a woman stands -still when she marries. If she and the man are in absolute sympathy, -intellectually, she needn't vegetate. For my part, I expect to marry,--I -want children. But I shall go on with my work. I consider my work of -more importance than putting babies to sleep!" - -"Everybody can't afford to have somebody put their babies to sleep for -them," Laura objected. - -"Fortunately I can! I shall have a trained nurse. When a child is well, -a trained nurse is every bit as good as a mother. And when it is ill, -she's better." - -"Suppose your husband doesn't think so?" - -"Then he won't be my husband! But I sha'n't run any such risk! I shall -marry a man who absolutely agrees with me in everything." - -"Maybe he'd like you to agree with him." - -"I will, after I've pulled him up to my level," Fred said, grinning. - -"I suppose Mr. Howard Ferguson Maitland doesn't need any pulling up?" -her cousin said, softly. - -Fred's face burned red. "My dear, he is not the only pebble on the -beach!" - -"He gets home in November," Laura said. "Freddy, it's nearly one, and -I'm perfectly dead with sleep!" - -Frederica laughed and got up; then hesitated. There was a little droop -in Laura's face that she didn't like. "Lolly," she said, "you're -bothered. Is it--Jack?" - -"Darn Jack!" Laura said. "I loathe him." - -"Good girl!" Fred said, with a relieved look. "You scared the stuffing -out of me for a minute!" - -"You needn't be worried," Laura told her, dryly. "Jack has not played -with my young affections. Oh, no; I'm cut out for an old maid! I'm not -clever like you." - -Frederica, in genuine relief from that moment of anxiety, was betrayed -into reassuring truth-telling: "Mother says men don't like clever -women." - -"If Aunt Bessie could hear H. M. talk about you she'd change her mind." - -Fred threw an impulsive arm about her and kissed her. "Oh, _Laura_!" she -said. Laura laughed, and kissed her back again, and said if she didn't -get out she'd fall asleep in her arms. - -But when Fred, blushing like any ordinary girl, had left her to those -deferred slumbers, Laura Childs lay awake a long time.... - -Frederica, alone in her tiny room, had a very sober minute. As she -thought it over, Laura's "loathing" did not seem quite convincing. -"She's got something on her chest," Fred said. Even when they were -little girls she had loved her cousin more than any one in the world, -and to have Laura depressed disturbed her sharply. "_Can_ it be Jack?" -she asked herself. "I wish Payton or Bobby would kick him!" That she -should hand the infliction of such chastisement over to a brother showed -that Fred could revert to the type she despised. But she was so troubled -about Lolly that she almost forgot her satisfaction in being told--what -she already knew!--that Howard appreciated her cleverness. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -Except for the Lakeville ladies, so looked down upon by Flora, Fred had -very few visitors that summer. Even Laura did not come very often, -though Lakeville was only five miles from Laketon. Perhaps she was -afraid of being asked questions. In September both girls were invited by -a school friend to come to the seashore for two or three weeks, but -Laura waited to know that Fred had declined the invitation ("I can't -fool with Society. I'm on my job!" said Fred) before she, Laura, -accepted it. - -There was, however, one formal call which gave Frederica great joy; her -grandmother and Miss Eliza Graham came over from the Laurels to see -her--and she never behaved more outrageously! She told Mr. Weston -afterward that she had had the time of her life joshing Mrs. Holmes. He -assured her that she was an imp, but that he would gladly have paid the -price of admission if he had only known that the circus was going to -take place. He asked his cousin about it afterward, but her description -of the scene was not so funny as Fred's. Indeed, it was rather -pathetic--poor Freddy, fighting her grandmother, while Miss Eliza stood -outside the ring, so to speak, and watched, pityingly. - -"For there's nothing one can do for her, Arthur," Miss Eliza told him; -"she's got to get some very hard knocks before she'll give up advising -the Creator how to manage His world." - -She and Mr. Weston had found a deserted spot on the veranda at the -Laurels, and she told him what she thought of Freddy. "It's a sort of -violent righteousness that possesses the child," she said. "Where does -she come from, Arthur? That mother! That grandmother! She must be a -foundling." - -"Her father had power. His righteousness was not very violent, but his -temper was." - -"She must make her mother very unhappy." - -"Yeast makes dough uncomfortable, I suppose," he admitted. - -"She's an unscrupulous truth-teller," Miss Graham said, and repeated -some of the impertinently accurate things that Frederica, sitting in her -ugly little living-room, with the Japanese fans on the walls, and yellow -"Votes for Women" pennons over the doors, had flung at Mrs. Holmes. "Her -grandmother said the 'women of to-day cheapened themselves'; to which -she replied that 'the women of yesterday were dear at any price'!" - -"She told me she had merely been truthful," Mr. Weston said. "Justifying -herself on the ground of Truth is Fred's form of repentance. But the -girl _suffers_, Cousin Eliza!" - -"She'll have to suffer a good deal before she'll amount to anything," -Miss Eliza said, dryly; "I wanted to shake her! Arthur, if you had any -missionary spirit, you would marry her." - -"But Cousin Mary says she is 'not a young woman who is calculated'--" - -They both laughed. "Nonsense! If she gets a master, she'll make him -happy. A good-natured boy won't do. The gray mare would be the better -horse. Marry her and beat her." - -"Maitland will have to do the beating," he said. But he could not evade -her. - -"Don't be a fool. Take her! I know you want her." - -"I do," he confessed. "But the little matter of her not wanting me seems -to be an obstacle." - -Miss Eliza, her old eagle head silhouetted against the dazzle of the -lake, meditated; then she said, "Is she engaged to Mr. Maitland?" - -"No, but she's going to be. Besides, dear lady, I am forty-seven and she -is twenty-six. Youth calls to Youth! Please don't suggest that she might -prefer to be an 'old man's darling.'" - -"You're not an old man. But the average young man--if he fell in love -with her--would be under her thumb." - -"Why do you say 'if'? Maitland has fallen in love with her, head over -heels! He can't stop talking about her brains for five minutes at a -time!" - -Miss Eliza gave him a keen look. "Well, perhaps human nature has changed -since my time. Then, a boy didn't fall in love with a girl's brains, -though a grown man sometimes did. Cleverness in a girl is like -playfulness in a kitten; it amuses a middle-aged man. The next thing he -knows, he's in love!" - -"Amuses!" Arthur Weston broke in, cynically; "to 'amuse' a middle-aged -man doesn't seem a very satisfying occupation for a girl. Don't you -think she'd rather have a boy's ridiculously solemn devotion?" - -"But don't I tell you?--Love comes next! And I know you are in love, -because you are so foolish. Arthur, I'm ashamed of you! Do have some -spunk. Get her! Get her! I don't believe she's in love with that boy." - -He gave a rather hopeless laugh. "Oh, yes, she is. I haven't the ghost -of a chance; besides--" he paused, took off his glasses, and put them on -again, with deliberation--"besides, if I had a chance, I'd be a cur to -take it. As you know, I had a blow below the belt. A man never quite -gets his wind again, after a little affair like mine. It would be great -luck for me to have Fred, but what sort of luck would it be for her to -spend her life '_amusing_' me?" - -"Nonsense! I won't listen to such--" she paused, while three girls, -romping along, arm in arm, swept past them, down the veranda. "Pretty -things, aren't they?" she said, looking after them with tender old eyes; -"how lovely Youth is!--even when it does its best to be ugly as to -clothes and manners, like two of those youngsters. They didn't even see -us, they were so absorbed in being young, bless their hearts! The -outside one who bowed is a Wharton girl. She is a charming child, -charming! And doing wonderfully at college. But those others--!" - -"Awful," he agreed. "Cousin Eliza, what's the matter with women, -nowadays?" - -"Perfectly simple. They are drunk!" - -"Drunk?" - -"With the sudden sense of freedom. My dear boy, reflect: When you were -born--no, you're too young"--he waved a deprecating hand, but he liked -the phrase--"when _I_ was born--that's seventy-three years ago--women -were dependent upon your delightful sex; so, of course, they were -cowards and you were bullies. Oh, yes; there were exceptions! There were -courageous women, and henpecked men. And, of course, cowardice didn't -always know it was cowardly, and bullying was often nothing but -kindness. But you can say what you please, women were not free! They had -to do what their men wanted--or quarrel with their families, and strike -out for themselves! And what was there for them to do to earn their -living? Outside of domestic service, nothing but teaching, sewing, and -Sairey Gamp nursing! When I was a girl I did not know enough to teach -and I hated sewing. So, if I had wanted to do anything my father and -mother didn't approve of, I couldn't have kicked up my heels and said, -'I'll support myself!' Besides, I shouldn't have dared. The Fifth -Commandment was still in existence when I was young. But now," she -ended, "that's all changed. Girls can kick up their heels whenever they -feel like it!" - -He laughed, and said that Fred Payton had kicked entirely over the -traces. - -"She's not the only one," Miss Graham said; "those three girls who -passed us have done it. That nice Wharton child is going to study law, -if you please! Yes, Freedom! It's gone to their heads; it's champagne on -empty stomachs. Empty only for the last two generations--before that -there were endless occupations to fill our stomachs. (My metaphors are -a little mixed!) When I was a girl, the daughters of a house, even when -people were as well off as Father, always had things to do--'Duties,' we -called them. But nowadays there's not enough housework to go round; so -if girls are rich, they play at work in--in anything, just to kill time! -Like your Miss Freddy." - -"Fred is making a success of her real-estate business," he said; "I -hadn't a particle of faith in it, but she's making it go." - -"It doesn't matter whether you have faith or not; the change has come: -_she had to have something to do_! That's the secret of the situation, -and there's no use kicking against it. You men have just got to accept -the fact of the change. All you can do is to fall back on the thing that -hasn't changed, and never can change, and never will change. Give girls -that and they will get sober!" - -He looked puzzled. - -"My dear boy, let them be _women_, be wives, be mothers! Then being -suffragists, or real-estate agents, or anything else, won't do them the -slightest harm. Marry them, Arthur, marry them!" - -"All of them?" he protested, in alarm. - -She laughed, but held her own. "I always tell Mary that all that nice, -bad child, your Freddy Payton, needs, is a husband. Which Mary thinks is -very indelicate in me. But it's true. As for suffrage that the women are -all cackling about, I don't care a--a--" - -"Damn?" he suggested. - -"Copper," she reproved him. "I don't care a copper about it! I've always -called myself an anti, but I never really gave it much thought, one way -or the other, until I went to an anti-suffrage meeting last year; that -made me a suffragist! I declare, the foolishness of some of their -arguments against voting went a long ways toward proving that perhaps -they really _haven't_ the brains to vote! Somebody said--Bessie Childs, -I believe it was--that the ballot would take woman out of the Home. I -reflected that Bridge took Bessie out of her home, for three or four -hours once a week, and voting would take her out for three or four -minutes, once a year. But I kept quiet until somebody intimated that the -'hand that rocks the cradle' is not competent, if you please, to deposit -a ballot! Then I stood right up in meeting, and said, 'I'm only a poor -old maid, but to my way of thinking, if the hand is as incompetent as -that, it is far more dangerous to trust a cradle to it than a ballot!'" - -"What did they say to that?" - -"They said a cradle was every woman's first duty. 'But it would be most -improper in me to have a cradle!' I said. I know they thought me -coarse." - -"So you are a suffragist?" - -"Indeed I'm not! I went to a suffrage meeting, and really, Arthur, I was -ashamed of my sex; such violence! such conceit! such shallowness! such -impropriety! One of them said that any married woman whose husband did -not believe in suffrage should leave him or else have branded on her -forehead a word--I cannot repeat to you the word she used. And another -of them said that all the antis were 'idiotic droolers.' I thought of my -dear sister, and I just couldn't stand that! I said, 'Well, ladies, if -the women who don't want the vote are idiots, is it wise to thrust it -upon them? Will idiots make good voters?'" - -"You had 'em there." - -"No; they just said 'the vote would educate women.' And as for women not -wanting it--'why, we'll cram it down their throats,' one of them said. -Nice idea of democracy, wasn't it? She explained that some slaves hadn't -wanted freedom, but that was no reason for not abolishing slavery! And, -of course, she was right. The suffragists have brains, you know, Arthur. -Well, as a result of a dose of each party, I'm nothing at all--very -much." - -"You're agin' 'em both?" he suggested. - -"Oh, I still call myself an anti, because the antis are, at least, -harmless; but I really don't care much, one way or the other. No; the -thing that troubles me isn't suffrage or non-suffrage; it's the fact -that somehow women seem to be fighting Nature. _That_ worries me. I know -that Nature can be depended upon to spank them into common sense when -she gets hold of them, but, unfortunately, men won't help Nature out. -They don't like girls like Miss Payton--I mean, the young men don't. -They don't like girls who are cleverer than they are; but no girl is -cleverer than you! Do 'come out of the West, Lochinvar, come out of the -West'!" - -He laughed and shook his head. "My dear cousin, I am dead in love with -you, so don't try to turn my affections in another direction. Besides, -Howard Maitland is coming home the end of November." - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -But it was the middle of October that saw Howard Maitland back again in -town. In spite of Frederica's friendly assurance that Jack McKnight -hadn't a ghost of a chance, that "queue" lining up at Mr. William -Childs's front door-steps bothered him. So, with many large cases of -specimens, and a mahogany tan on his lean face, he arrived, one morning, -on the Western express. He hardly waited to remove the evidences of -several nights in the sleeping-car, before reconnoitering the Childs -house. The queue was not visible, but neither was Laura. She was in -Philadelphia, a maid told him, and would not be back for another week. -He went off rather crestfallen. - -"I'll go and see Freddy," he consoled himself. - -As he shot up in an elevator in the Sturtevant Building, whom should he -run across but old Weston! "I'm on my way to the real-estate office," he -said, grinning like the cub he was, at Fred's plaything. - -Mr. Weston did not grin. "I believe she's in her office. Thought you -weren't to get home until next month?" - -"Wasn't. But--well, I got kind of stale on shells, and I thought I'd -like some smoke and soot for a change. So I came home. Oh--you get off -here?" - -"Yes," Mr. Weston said, briefly, and stepped out into the echoing -corridor. In his private office he sat down, and, with his hands in his -pockets, his legs stretched out in front of him, regarded his boots. - -"Well, he's back," he said to himself. - -After a long time he got up, put on his hat, and, heedless of the -questioning young lady at the typewriter, slammed his office door behind -him. "I'm hard hit," he told himself, roughly, as he stepped into the -descending elevator. "It appears that I am capable of feeling something -more than '_amusement_.' I'll go and buy the wedding-present. The -application of a check that I can't afford may be curative." - -The cure would have seemed still more necessary if he could have seen -how Howard was welcomed in the real-estate office. Frederica's -astonished pleasure was as frank as a man's. - -"Good work!" she said, and struck her hand into his. "But I didn't -expect you for a month!" - -"I couldn't stand it any longer," he told her, joyously. "How's -business? How's Laura?" - -"Well, clients are not exactly blocking the corridors," she said; "but -I'm bursting with pride; I came out ahead last month!" - -"Gee!" he said, admiringly. "Well, tell us the news!" - -"I've finished my paper," she said. She pushed an open map aside so that -she could sit on the edge of her big office table, and looked at him -delightedly. "I'm crazy to read it to you. Sit down and light up!" She -struck a match on the sole of her shoe, and handed it to him. - -"I'm crazy to hear it! Laura's skiddooed. I went to Billy-boy's"--he -blew the match out and dropped it on the floor;--"and got thrown down on -the front steps." - -"Yes, she's playing around with the Mortons. I was asked, but--there are -so many more interesting things here! Howard, they are talking about -abolishing the red-light district, and we're going to get that bill I -wrote you about, through the Legislature, if we _bust_!" - -"What bill?" - -"Registration. Health certificate--or no marriage license! You've got to -roll up your sleeves and get busy." - -"All right," he agreed, promptly. "She's not engaged, is she?" - -"Who? Laura? Heavens, no! She has something else to think of than your -sex. Look here: why don't you come out to my bungalow and we'll talk -things out?" She explained that though she had moved back to Payton -Street she still used the camp when she had what she called a "night -out." "I take Flora along for propriety. Isn't that rich? I tell you -what, I've been a boon to the whole connection. I've given 'em something -to talk about!" - -"What's the matter with going out in my car this afternoon?" he asked. -But she put him off until the next day. She was thinking that she must -brace the house up and arrange for a rattling good supper! "We'll have a -big fire," she thought, cozily, "and we'll sit up and talk till all's -blue.... You'll stay all night?" she said. "I've a very decent little -guest-room." - -For once she startled him, but her frank gaze made him almost ashamed of -his instinctive sense of fitness. He said no, he wouldn't stay all -night; he had to be on hand very early the next morning to look after a -consignment of freight. "But I'll turn up at Payton Street in the car -to-morrow afternoon, about four. Is that right?" - -"Just right," she said. She had decided quickly that she would send -Flora out Friday morning with provisions. "I bet he'll take notice when -I feed him!" she thought. "What kind of a salad shall I have? Not one of -those footling 'ladies' luncheon' things, all nuts and apples and -stuffed truck. Men want just lettuce or tomatoes. No fancy doings!" - -She was anxious to get rid of him and go home and make her plans. It -occurred to her to ask her mother what kind of cheese a man would like. -But no, that would involve her in a lot of talk about "propriety." She -nodded to him over her shoulder as he left the office, and the next -minute she heard the elevator door clang behind him. Then, with a -furtive glance about the room, as if to make sure she was alone, she -stooped and picked up that half-burnt match which had lighted his -cigarette.... For a minute she held it in her hand, then laughed, -shamefacedly, and put it in her pocket-book. Her face was vivid with -happiness. She pulled down the top of her desk, then flung it up again, -and scrawled on one of her business cards: "Closed until Monday -morning." "I'll stick that in the door," she said; "I sha'n't be able to -spare a minute for the office to-morrow." But, despite her haste, she -stood for a dreamy moment smiling into space. Then she sat down in her -revolving chair and sunk her chin on her fist. - -_He couldn't stand it any longer!_ - -The words sang themselves in her heart. "Goose! Why did he 'stand it' -as long as he did? Well, he didn't lose any time getting to the -Sturtevant Building!" She felt quite confident that he wouldn't "stand -it" longer than the next night, then, alone before the fire in her -little house, he would--_ask her_. The thought was like wine! But -instantly another thought made her quiver. Why should he "ask," when she -was so ready to give? She wished that instead of "asking" her he would -take things for granted. She wished he would just say: "When shall we be -married, Fred?" And she would say, just as nonchalantly, "Oh, any old -time!" And he would say, "To-morrow?" And she would say, "Oh, well, the -family wouldn't like it if we didn't let 'em celebrate getting me off -their hands!" She thought of Laura's anxiety about the bridesmaids' -dresses, and smiled. "I hate that kind of fuss as much as men do, but it -would be a shame to disappoint Lolly." So she would say, "Call it a -month from now." Then he would urge--that brought the other thought -again. Why should he urge?--when all she wanted was to give! Oh, how -much she wanted to _give_! Her heart seemed to rise in her throat, and -she said, aloud, "Why not? Why not?" A pang of happiness brought the -tears to her eyes. It was not only love that stirred her--the simple, -human instinct--it was the realization that love was seconded by an -intellectual conviction, and that she could show by her own act that -women and men are equals, not only in all the things for which she had -been fighting (they seemed so little now!)--opinions, rights, -privileges; but equals also in this supreme business of loving. Yes, -there was no reason why she should not be the one to ask. No reason why -she should not be the beggar! The generosity of it made her glad from -head to foot. She stood up, her lips parted, her breath catching in her -throat; she would give, before he could ask! It was a sacramental -instant; for with the purpose of giving--"herself, her soul and -body"--was that exalted realization that an opinion of the mind can be -merged with an impulse of the body. She was profoundly shaken and -solemn. Suddenly she put her hands over her face, and stood motionless: -there were no words, but the gesture was a prayer. When a little later -she left her office her face was white. She was happier than she had -ever been in her life. - -She walked home, stopping, on a sudden impulse, to buy a bunch of -violets for her mother. At her own front door she met the postman, who -gave her a card from Laura: "_I'm going on to Boston--to stay with the -Browns. Home next week._" Under the little scrawling signature, "L. C.," -was another line: "_Why not write H. M. and tell him to bring home some -Filipino gauze for the bridesmaids' dresses?_" - -Frederica bit a joyous lip. "Imp! Well," she thought, with a queer -little matronly air of amusement, "she'll get her dress sooner than she -expects." Then she thrust her key into the lock and let herself into the -hall; the light in the red globe flickered in the draught of fresh air, -and Andy Payton's hat moved slightly. The shut-up stillness of the house -was full of a sickly fragrance: "Bay rum!" Fred said, resignedly. "She -has a headache, I suppose." - -She ran up-stairs, the violets in her hand. "Finished your puzzle?" she -called out at the sitting-room door. But the puzzle was still chaotic; -Mrs. Payton was standing before a mirror, tying a handkerchief around -her head. - -"Too bad you have a headache!" Frederica said. "Mother, I shall want -Flora to-morrow. I'm going to the camp for the night. Here are some -violets for you." - -Mrs. Payton put out a languid hand and said, "Thank you, dear." - -Then she sank into a pillowy chair and tried to dab some more bay rum on -her temples, but it ran down her face on to her dress, and had to be -wiped off, feebly. - -"I hope it won't stain my waist," she bemoaned herself. "The violets are -very nice, dear. I always used to say when I was a young lady--'Give me -violets!' As for Flora, she is simply impossible! She's been crying all -day." - -"What on earth is the matter with her?" - -"I'm sure I don't know. Some nonsense about not wanting to live. Rather -different from the way servants talked when I went to housekeeping. She -said--" Mrs. Payton paused, and with closed eyes cautiously tipped the -bottle of bay rum on the bandage across her forehead, then hurriedly -sopped her cheeks as it trickled down from under the handkerchief. "Oh, -dear, it _will_ stain my dress! She said she had 'nothing to do.' I -said, 'Nothing to do? _I_ can find you enough to do.' She said she was -tired of housework. I told her that was very wicked. I said, '_I'm_ busy -from morning till night, and what would you think of me if I said I was -tired of doing my duty?' Miss Carter says she is simply dead in love -with one of the hack-drivers, who won't have anything to do with her. I -can't think so; Flora has always seemed so refined. I don't believe -she'd cheapen herself that way. I wish she was more religious. Religion -is so good for servants. It makes them contented, and gives them an -interest. Not but what Flora is a good girl, only I should be so much -more comfortable if she was contented. I wish I didn't feel my girls' -moods as I do. When they are cross, I feel it in my knees. I'm too -sensitive. Freddy, dear, ask Miss Carter to bring me a hot-water bag. -Oh, wait a minute! I want to speak to you. I--" - -Something in the next room fell with a thud against the door; Frederica -fled. Mrs. Payton sighed and shut her eyes, pressing the fresh fragrance -of the violets against her hot face. - -"Why does she mind him?" she thought, with languid resentment. "If she -was only like Aunt Adelaide! I wonder if she'll remember to tell Miss -Carter to get my hot-water bag." - -Frederica did remember, but she did not tell Miss Carter: she never went -into that room in the ell when she could help it. She filled the -hot-water bag herself, brought it to Mrs. Payton, suggested bed instead -of the big chair, and vanished into the welcome silence of her own room. - -Later, in the dining-room, as she dreamed over her solitary dinner, she -roused herself to tell Flora that she was to go out to the bungalow the -next day. "You've got to get up a bully supper for me, Flora. Mr. -Maitland is coming." - -There was no reply, and Frederica looked up. "What's the matter? You -got a headache, too?" - -"I was expecting a friend o' mine would call on me to-morrow night," -Flora said, sullenly. - -Frederica was genuinely concerned. "I'm awfully sorry, but Mr. Maitland -is coming to see me and I really _must_ be out there. Can't you put your -friend off? Who is he?" - -Flora looked coy. - -"Ah, now, Flora," Miss Payton said, good-naturedly, "what's all this? I -must look into this!" The teasing banished the gloom for a minute or -two. "Send him a little note and tell him you'll be home Saturday -night," Fred suggested. She wasn't quite sure of kitchen etiquette on -such matters; but, after all, why shouldn't Flora do just what her young -mistress was doing? - -"Maybe he will come to-night," she said, encouragingly, and Flora, with -a flicker of hope, said, "Maybe he will; if he does, I guess I'll invite -him to go to a movie with me next week." - -"Perhaps he'll invite you," Fred said. - -But Flora's hopes did not rise to such a height. "If he doesn't come in -to-night, I'll send him a reg'ler written invitation to a movie," she -said, happily. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -As things turned out, Flora might have seen her "friend" in Payton -Street Friday night, had devotion prompted him to call, for the -festivity at the camp was postponed for three days. The morning mail -brought Frederica a brief line from Howard Maitland; he had found, he -said, after he left her office, that he had to run on to Philadelphia. -Back Monday morning. If her invitation held good, he'd come out to -Lakeville for supper Monday night. The letter ended with some -scratched-out words, which looked like, "I may have something to tell -you--" The obliterated line made her glow! But the delay was -disappointing. Three whole days before she could hear that "something" -he wanted to tell her--and she wanted to hear! Well, it would give her -more time to fix things up in the cottage. With this in view, she and -Zip and Flora went out to Lakeville Sunday morning, and Fred had a -silent day to keep an eye on the dusting, and work on her suffrage -paper, and jolly Flora, whose plaintive dullness was beginning to be -rather trying. - -"You _must_ brace up, Flora," she said; "you haven't half dusted the -legs of the table! I don't want Mr. Maitland to think we are not good -housekeepers, just because we are 'New Women,' you and I!" But Flora did -not brighten. She had telephoned the "reg'ler invitation to the movies" -before leaving Payton Street, but the "friend" had only said (she told -Frederica) "he'd see 'bout it. He'll write to me, and I'll git it -Monday," she said. But it was evident that she had very little hope of -an acceptance. - -All that pleasant, hazy Sunday Frederica followed the old, old example -of her grandmother, the cave-dweller, and decked her little shelter. She -went into the woods and brought back an armful of maple leaves and, with -Flora's melancholy assistance, fastened them against the walls and over -the doors, hiding, to some extent, the frieze of fans and the yellow -pennons of the Cause. She even took down the muslin curtains and washed -and ironed them herself, and put them up again, crisp and dainty. The -little room bloomed with her joy. When she sat down to "polish" her -article she kept jumping up every few minutes to move a bowl of flowers, -or put an extra book on the mantelpiece. - -"I wonder," she thought, "if he can read the titles from that morris -chair?" She had decided in what chair he was to sit. She tried the -visual possibilities of the chair herself and, by screwing up her eyes, -found she could just make out the appallingly learned names on the backs -of some of the books. "_That_ will show him what I'm up to!" she said. - -It was the old Life Purpose--the eternal invitation! The bird preens -itself, the flower pours its perfume, the girl's cheek curves like a -shell. A man can almost always see the beckoning of that rosy curve, or -of a little curl nestling at the back of a white neck, or of soft, shy -eyes; for so, in all the ages, Life has invited. But it has never -beckoned with a German treatise! - -Frederica, giving Zip a lump of sugar and making a solitary cup of tea -for herself, did not know that she was beckoning.... - -When, at five o'clock, a motor came chugging along the road, and Arthur -Weston opened the door and demanded tea, he, at least, felt the -invitation--which was not for him. The white curtains, the open piano, -the warmth and fragrance and pleasantness, and, most of all, Frederica, -sitting on a little stool by the fire, her face sparkling with welcome. -Everything was beckoning! - -Standing up, warming his hands at the fire while Fred ran out to the -kitchen to make fresh tea for him, the caller read the names of the -books lined up in a row between the lighted candles on the mantelpiece, -and whistled. - -"Is this your light reading?" he said, as she came back with the -cream-pitcher. "For Heaven's sake, lay in some funny papers for the -simple male mind!" Then he pulled Zip's ears, took his tea, and said he -wished he could ever get enough sugar. - -"I saw Maitland on Thursday," he said, reaching for another lump. - -"Yes, he is on deck," Fred said. - -Her man of business made a hopeless, laughing gesture, as if he gave up -trying to solve a puzzle. "Are they engaged, or aren't they?" he said to -himself. Her way of speaking of the cub was certainly as indifferent as -it well could be! "But that doesn't prove anything," he thought, -drearily. - -He stayed a long time; he had a feeling that his call was a sort of -last chapter. "In about a week I'll get one of those confounded -engagement letters," he told himself. He settled down in the morris -chair--the chair in which Howard was to sit the next evening--and -started her talking. He did not need to make any replies. Once Frederica -"got going" on her own affairs he could watch her in lazy, tender -silence.... How soon it would be over--this watching and listening! How -soon his plaything would be transformed into a happy, self-absorbed, -quite uninteresting wife and mother! For Fred Maitland, he was cynically -aware, would cease to interest him, because she would cease to be -preposterous; she would be normal. Of course Fred Payton would always be -a darling memory; she would never leave his heart. His heart ached at -the thought of its own emptiness if he should try to turn Fred Payton -out just because Fred Maitland was another man's wife. No, he would not -even try to forget his wild, sweet, silly Freddy! She should always -remain as, back somewhere in his memory, Kate remained, dark-browed and -cruel. The Kate of to-day, whose presence in his heart would be an -impropriety, was not even an individual to him! But the old Kate was -his. He wondered if Fred would ever become as vague to him as Mrs. -Kate----.... "What is her name! Oh, yes--Bailey. When I heard she'd -married him, I didn't sleep for two nights; and now I can hardly -remember his name! 'Men have died, and worms have eaten them--' ... -Fred, almost all the houses out here are boarded up. I only saw a light -in one house." - -"I was telling you of the woman's movement in Sweden," she said, -affronted. - -"I'd like to see a woman's movement back to town from this cottage! You -really ought not to be out here at night, just you and Flora. That one -house which is open will be closed pretty soon, I suppose?" - -"To-morrow," she teased him. "And Flora and I are such fragile flowers, -it's dreadful to think of our losing the protection of Mr. and Mrs. -Monks! He is a paralytic, and she weighs two hundred and twenty-five -pounds." - -"You'll move in town to-morrow, won't you?" he said, really disturbed. - -She had to admit that she expected to. "Not that I'm nervous, but Howard -Maitland is coming here to supper to-morrow night, and I'm going to make -him take us back in his car because I've got such a lot of stuff to -carry home." - -"Oh," he said, blankly. "He's coming out to supper?" He stared into the -fire for a while; then he got on his feet. "I must start," he said, and -stood looking down at her. "Fred," he said, suddenly--in the uncertain -firelight his face seemed to quiver--"you're a good fellow. And if your -husband, when you get him, isn't the finest thing that ever happened, -I'll punch his head!" - -His voice was so moved that she, sitting on her little stool, close to -the hearth, looked up at him, quickly. "Why, he's _fond_ of me!" she -thought. Her own deep experience made her heart open into generous -acceptance of any human affection. She jumped up and put both impulsive -hands into his. "You are the dearest friend I have!" she said; then -hesitated, laughed--and kissed him. - -Her lips against his cheek were softly cool, like the touch of flowers. -Nothing that she had ever said or done removed her more completely from -the possibility of passion. He was able, however, to make a -grandfatherly rejoinder to the effect that he had dandled her on his -knee when she was a brat--which was not strictly true, for he had had no -inclination to dandle the gawky fourteen-year-old Freddy Payton on knees -that were bent before the cruel Kate. He put a friendly--but -shrinking--hand on her shoulder as she went with him to the front door, -and a minute later waved good night from his car. As he drove home in a -bothering white fog from the lake, he was very unhappy. "It hurts more -than I supposed it could," he told himself. "I don't like this kind of -'amusement!' Damn it, I wish she hadn't kissed me." - -As for Frederica, going back into the cottage, her eyes were very kind. -"He's an old dear to bother with me; I'm awfully fond of him." Then she -forgot him. "Twenty-four hours more," she was thinking, "and Howard will -be here!" Twenty-four hours seemed a long time! She was glad when the -moment came to blow out the candles and look into the other room to say -good night; ("only twenty hours now!"). - -Flora, at the kitchen table, was listlessly shuffling a pack of cards by -the light of a little kerosene-lamp; as Fred entered, she dropped her -head in her hands and sighed. Frederica sighed, too. "I suppose I've got -to cheer her up," she thought, resignedly. "What's the matter?" she -said, kindly. - -"Nothin'." - -"Come in the other room and I'll play for you." - -Flora shook a dreary head. Fred, with a shrug of impatience, sat down at -the other end of the table. The fire in the stove was out and the -kitchen was cold and damp; except for the lisping wash of the lake and -the faint fall of Flora's cards, everything was very still. Fred watched -the cards for a moment without speaking, then abruptly brushed them all -aside and clapped her warm young hand on Flora's thin wrist. The -movement made the lamp flicker, and on the opposite wall two shadowy -heads nodded at each other. - -"Now, Flora," she said, "we'll have this out! What _is_ the matter?" - -"I tell you, Miss Freddy, there ain't nothin' the matter." - -"There is! You're awfully depressed." - -"I'm used to that." - -"But why? Come now, you've got to tell me!" - -Flora dropped her head on her arms and began to cry. - -"Flora! Flora! What shall I do with you? You are so silly!" - -The woman sat up and wiped her eyes. The little hysterical outburst -evidently relieved her; she smiled, though her lips still trembled. "I -was tellin' my fortune to see what kind of a letter I'd git to-morrow -mornin' from my friend about goin' to the movies. I like 'em, but 'pears -he ain't stuck on 'em. An'--an', I'm bettin' he'll say he won't go. The -cards make out I ain't goin' to have no luck." - -"Nonsense! You've got too much sense to believe in cards." - -"Miss Freddy, Mr. Maitland'll think the house real pretty the way you -fixed up them leaves. Some of 'em is as handsome as if they was -hand-painted!" - -Fred preserved a grave face, and said yes, the leaves were lovely. - -"An' he's comin' out to-morrow night?" Flora said, nodding her head. -"Well, I guess _you're_ happy." Her opaque black eyes gleamed with -unshed tears. Frederica, rising, put an impulsive arm around her; Flora -suddenly sobbed on her shoulder. - -"Is it because your beau has been unkind?" Fred said. She used Flora's -own vernacular. - -"I 'ain't never had a real beau. Oh, well, I don't care! I'm glad you -got a beau, anyhow." - -"I don't know that I have," Fred said, smiling. "But you'll get one some -day." Under her friendly words was a good-natured contempt--Flora was so -anxious for a "beau"! - -"An' your gentleman'll come out here to-morrow night," Flora -repeated,--it was as if she turned the knife in her own wound; "an' you -and him'll set in the living-room. And you'll talk. And he'll talk. An' -he'll ... kiss you." - -"Oh," Fred said, laughing, "Mr. Maitland and I are not interested in -_that_ kind of thing! We are trying to give women the vote, and to make -the world better--that's what we are going to talk about. And, Flora, -remember, you've got to give us an awfully good supper! Come, now! -you're tired. You really must go to bed." - -She laid a gently compelling hand on the frail shoulder, and Flora, -sighing miserably, took the lamp from its bracket and followed Miss -Freddy up-stairs to the cubby-hole under the roof where she slept. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -The next day it rained and the little house was dark and damp. Across -the sodden beach-grass Fred and Flora could see the fat woman in the -next bungalow moving her trunks and her paralyzed husband back to town; -when they had gone, the owner of the bungalow came to give a look around -and see how much damage his tenants had done. Then he closed the -shutters and boarded up the front door. By noon the sound of his -hammering ceased, and the shore, with its huddle of cottages, was -entirely deserted. The only human sign was the wisp of smoke from Fred's -chimney. All the morning it rained heavily. At ten o'clock Flora put on -her things and walked nearly a mile to the post-office. She came back -soaking-wet, and empty-handed. - -"Didn't he write?" Fred asked, cheerfully. - -Flora shook a forlorn head. But when she had had a cup of tea there was -a rally of hope. "Them postmen! They're always losin' letters. I -shouldn't wonder if my friend's letter was stickin' in a mail-box, -somewheres." - -"Very likely!" Fred said. She really didn't know what she said; her -joyous preoccupation was only aware of Time--"six hours more, and he'll -be here!" At noon the rain ceased and the fog crept in. Some yellow -leaves blew up on the porch; a squirrel ran down the chestnut-tree at -the corner of the cottage, lifted an alert tail, looked about, then ran -up again. After that everything was still. - -The lake was smothered in a woolly whiteness that muffled even the -lapping of the waves. It muffled one's mind, Frederica thought. She -wished she had something to do--housework or anything! "I haven't the -brains to work on my article; I'm only intelligent enough to be -domestic!" But there was nothing domestic to be done; everything was -swept and garnished. She tried to read; she tried to write; said "darn -it!" to both book and pen, then got up to walk about and stare out of -the window into the wetness. At last, in desperation, she put on her -things, called Zip, and went out into the mist to tramp for an hour -under the dripping branches. When they came back, Zip horribly muddy, -Fred was as fresh as a rain-wet rose, and full of the joy of living. -"Only four hours now!" - -In the kitchen she wiped Zippy's reluctant paws, and told Flora, who was -sitting motionless, her hands idle in her lap, to hang her sou'wester up -to dry. "Now, Flora, come to life!" she said. "If you come into the -living-room I'll play for you." - -Flora shook her head. "There ain't no use listenin' to music. There -ain't no use in anything. You get up in the morning and button your -boots. Well, you gotta do it the next day," Flora said, with staring -eyes, "an' the next. An' the next. What's the use? There's no use." But -after serving her young lady with a somewhat sketchy luncheon, she did -go into the other room, and after helping to start the dying fire, -crouched on the floor, her head against the piano, and listened to -Fred's friendly drumming. - -"Trouble with you," said Frederica, looking down at the crouching -figure, "is that you've nothing to do that you care awfully about -doing." - -Flora was silent, and by and by Fred forgot her, for, velvet-footed, -through the fog, the hour when Howard should arrive came nearer, and her -own life grew so vivid that the moping brown woman ceased to exist for -her--except, indeed, for momentary pangs of fear that Flora would make -some blunder--roast the duck a minute too long, or forget to put pieces -of orange on the sizzling breast just before serving it! - - -He had said he would come at five. But it was nearly six before she -heard the car panting in the road. She opened the door, and, holding a -candle above her head, told him he needn't expect anything so swell as a -garage. "Just run her up under that big chestnut!" Then she put the -candle down on the porch, and went out to help him lift the top, for the -moisture was dripping like rain from the branches. - -"But the fog is clearing," she said, with satisfaction. She did not add -that she had been anxious at the idea of his poking back on the wood -road in the thick mist. Such concern was an absolutely new sensation to -Frederica. She had never in all her life felt anxious about anybody! - -The top up, they went into the fire-lit room, warm and fragrant and -comfortable, with the candles burning on the mantelpiece on either side -of the learned books. The supper was a great success. Flora had "come to -life," and the duck was perfect; indeed, she even brightened, for an -instant, under Mr. Maitland's appreciation: "Flora, I take off my hat to -that duck. You are a bully cook!" - -"She is!" Fred said, heartily. But Flora's face gloomed again. - -"Bully!" Howard repeated. His vocabulary was never very large, and -hunger made it smaller than usual. He was, however, able to tell Fred -that he had missed Laura in Philadelphia. - -"Strikes me she's gadding about a good deal; she's gone to Boston. -What's the clue?" - -"Just a good time. Lolly is rather young still, you know," Fred excused -her. Howard made no comment, and she had an uncomfortable feeling that -he did not appreciate Laura. "I pretty nearly went with her, myself!" -she declared, boldly. She wasn't going to have even Howard think Laura -was frivolous! "She's the sweetest thing going," she said. - -"You bet she is," Howard agreed, and began to talk about shells. - -When they had finished the last scrap of dessert, the young man put what -was left of his beer on the mantelpiece, and, his pipe drawing well, -stood up with his back to the fire, and told her about the pearl he had -found. - -"I want to show it to you," he said; and, digging it up out of his -pocket, dropped it into her extended hand. "I'm going to have it set in -a--a ring," he explained, as it lay, round and shimmering, in Fred's -palm. "Of course, I could buy a bigger one, and more perfect. But -there's a kind of association in a pearl you pick up yourself--don't you -think?" - -"Of course there is!" - -"Put it there, on your finger, and let's see how it looks," he said, his -head on one side, his eyes anxious. She balanced it as well as she could -on the back of her hand, then returned it to him hurriedly. "Pretty -good?" he said. - -"Fine!" she assured him. Then, resolutely, changed the subject; there -must be no talk about rings--_yet_! - -Howard, a little disappointed at her indifference, put the pearl, in its -wisp of tissue-paper, into his pocket, and listened to the outpouring of -her plans for the winter work of the league. In the midst of it, he -kicked the logs together in the fireplace, and, sitting down, smoked -comfortably. Once he said that one of her arguments was bully, and once -he called her attention to the way the sparks marched and countermarched -in the soot on the chimney back; "I used to call 'em 'soldiers' when I -was a kid." - -"I meant to read you my paper," Fred was saying, "but I guess it will -keep. Let's talk. Howard, Laura and I are going to get all the girls we -know to take a stand--this is a pretty serious thing!--against playing -around with men we know are dissipated. The idea grew out of this bill -we're trying to get before the Legislature." - -"Good work!" he said, lazily, and leaned forward to knock the ashes out -of his pipe. Zip yawned and curled up on the skirt of Freddy's dress. It -was a warm, domestic scene, full of peaceful certainties. - -"You see," she said, "women are facing facts, nowadays. They believe in -freedom, but they believe most of all in Truth. There'll be no more -hiding behind a lot of conventions! That is what has held us back. We -have as much right to say what we--feel, as men. Don't you think so?" -Her voice was a little breathless. - -Howard, looking dreamily at the "soldiers," said, absently, "You bet you -have!" - -"I want to tell you just what we're up to about turning down the rotten -fellows," Fred said. "I want to talk it out with you and get your -advice. But not now, because--because there are other things I want to -say. But sometime." - -"Any time! I've just been laying for a jaw with you, Fred. I don't know -any other woman I can talk to just as I can to a man!" - -At that, she couldn't help a little proud movement of her head, and to -hide her pride she stooped down and stroked Zippy; as she did so the -firelight fell on her face, smiling, and quivering a little. Her good -gray eyes brimmed with joy. "Yes, we are pretty good friends," she said. - -"You see," he said, "you _understand_! Why, those letters of yours--I -can't tell you what they meant to me!" He paused and laughed: "That -reminds me. I told Leighton--you know the man I wrote to you about?" - -"The anti man?" - -"Yes; Tommy Leighton--" - -"I'll send him a bunch of literature--if he has any kind of mind?" - -"Oh, well; so-so. He's an anti, so what can you expect? I told him that -you had the finest mind of any woman I had ever met. I told him that -mighty few men could talk back to you--" He paused to fumble about in -his pocket for his tobacco-pouch. "Laura gave me that," he interpolated; -"Leighton said--" - -She leaned forward and laid her hand on his arm; the suddenness of her -grip made him drop the little pouch, and as he stooped to pick it up, -she said: - -"I've missed you--awfully." - -He did not see that she was trembling. He put the pouch in his pocket -and retorted, gaily: - -"I bet you haven't missed me as much as I've missed you!" - -"I've missed you," she said, in a whisper, "_more_!" - -Howard Maitland stopped midway in a breath. But instantly the thought -that leaped into his mind vanished in shame. He actually blushed with -consternation at his own caddishness. He tried to say, again, something -about her letters--but she was not listening; she was saying, calmly: - -"You see--I love you." - -He was dumb. His brain whirled. He said to himself that he hadn't -understood her--of course he hadn't understood her! What had she said? -Good Lord! what _had_ she said? Of course she didn't mean--what you -might think! She only meant--friendship. If he let her know what, for -just one gasping moment he had thought she meant, somebody ought to kick -him! But the shock of her words brought him to his feet. She rose, too, -and stood smiling at him. "Of course," he began, "we are--you are--I -mean, I don't know what I would have done without your let--" - -"I love you," she said. She held out both her hands--"will you marry me, -Howard?" - -He had it, then, between the eyes. His boyish stumbling ceased. He -caught her hands in his. - -"Fred," he began--a door banged in the kitchen and they both started, -"Fred," he said, again--his throat was dry, and he stopped to swallow. -Instinctively she was drawing away from him; the smiling offer was still -in her eyes, but a frightened look lay behind it. He did not try to hold -the withdrawing hands. - -"Fred, I care for you so much--" He was white with pain. Frederica was -silent. "I care for you so terribly, I--I have to be--straight. I never -thought--" She made a gesture, and he stopped. - -"It's all right. I understand. You needn't go on." - -"Fred! Look here--I care for you more than I can tell you. You are--you -are simply stunning; but--" - -She laughed: "Cut it out, Howard; cut it out! I understand." - -"You don't!" he said, greatly agitated; "you can't understand how--how I -appreciate--I shall never forget--" - -She motioned him back to his chair, and dropped into her own. "You -needn't worry about me. I've made a mistake, that's all. Many a man has -done the same thing and lived through it. I assure you I sha'n't pine!" - -She was very pale, but smiling finely. He sat down. His confusion was -agonizing. He was trying to think how he could tell her what she meant -to him; how he respected, admired--yes, _loved_ her! Only not--not just -in the way she meant. He tried to say this, then stopped, realizing, -dazed as he was, that his explanations only made things worse. - -"I am not worthy of the friendship of a woman as noble as you are!" - -"Oh, nonsense! Let's talk of important things." - -"No, but listen," he entreated, with emotion. "You won't turn me down? -You're the best friend I have--we won't stop being friends?" - -"You'll 'be a brother to me'?" she quoted; it was her only bitter word; -and she covered it with a laugh. "'Course we are pals, always! Howard, I -want to tell you what I accomplished here this summer. And oh, by the -way, did you give 'Aunty Leighton' the pamphlet on the New Zealand -situation?" She pulled Zip up on her lap, and teased him, kissing him -between his eyes, and squeezing his little nose in her hand. - -Howard said, as casually as his breath permitted, that Tommy Leighton -was a fine chap--"but no mind, you know. One of those people you can't -argue with on any really serious subject like suffrage. Opinions all run -into molds. Can't bend 'em." Now that he had got started talking, he -couldn't stop; he talked faster and faster; he told her everything he -had ever heard or surmised about Mr. Leighton; "his ideas belong to the -dark ages--" - -"Believes in sex slavery, I suppose?" Fred interposed. - -"Exactly! I--I guess I'd better be getting along," he said, with a sort -of gasp. Her instant acquiescence, in springing to her feet, was at once -a relief and a stab. - -"Would you mind," she said, easily, "putting a basket into your tonneau -and leaving it at our house? Flora and I will have such a lot of things -to carry in town to-morrow." - -As she spoke, she was listening with satisfaction to her own -voice--calm, matter-of-fact, friendly. - -He said he would be delighted to take the basket--"or anything else! -Load me up, and I'll deliver the goods in Payton Street to-night!" - -"Oh, no; it's too late," she said, laughing; "but if you'll take it -around in the morning--" - -"Of course I will; delighted!" - -"I'll tell Flora to take it out to the car," she said; and went into the -kitchen: "Flo--" she began, and stopped. The kitchen was empty. "Flora!" -she called, looking at the unwashed dishes in the sink, and at Flora's -untasted supper set out on the kitchen table in the midst of a clutter -of cards. She said a single distracted word under her breath; went to -the foot of the stairs and called up to the little cell under the -eaves.... No answer. She ran up and looked into each room.... No Flora. - -"She seems to have vanished," she said, coming into the living-room with -a puzzled look. "She isn't in the house. Do you suppose she can be -wandering about in the woods at this time of the night?" In her own -mind, frantic at Howard's delayed departure, she was saying to herself: -"I'll die if I don't get rid of him! I could _kill_ Flora!" She sat down -again by the fire, and said that she was bothered about Zippy's eyes; -that made a momentary diversion. Howard examined the little dog's eyes -and said they were all right; then made desultory remarks about dogs in -China. He was trying, wildly, to find something--_anything!_--to say. -Both were listening intently for Flora's step. "I'll see if I can find -her now," Frederica said. - -He followed her into the empty kitchen. "Bird flown?" he said. He, too, -was pleased to find he could speak so casually. Frederica opened the -back door and strained her eyes into the mist. - -"It's awfully funny," she said; "why should she go out into the fog? -_Flora!_" she called loudly--and they held their breaths for an -answering voice. But there was only the muffled lapping of the waves and -an occasional drop falling from the big tree. They went back to the -living-room, and looked at each other, blankly. - -"Can she have started to walk into town?" he asked. - -"Thirty miles? Howard, I am sort of worried about her! Do you remember? -the door slammed, and--" she stopped short, remembering just when she -had heard that slamming door. "Do you think she can have been ill, and -gone out to one of the other houses for help? No," she corrected -herself. "She knows every house in Lakeville is closed!" - -Again she ran up-stairs, calling and looking; then they both went out on -the back porch, and called. - -Again the lake answered them, lapping--lapping. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -"You can't stay here by yourself," he said. - -"I can't go back to town and leave Flora here by herself. We've got to -find her!" - -He nodded; they were both of them entirely at ease. That tense -consciousness of a few minutes before had disappeared. - -"I'm worried," Fred said, again; "she was awfully low-spirited -because--because somebody hadn't written to her." - -"Oh, she's all right. She'll be back in a few minutes." - -"But where has she gone?" - -"Perhaps she walked into Laketon." - -"What for? Besides, it's nearly five miles!" They were standing in the -kitchen doorway; Zip pushed past them and went out into the mist; -smelled about, stretching first his front legs, then his hind legs. The -motor loomed like a black monster under the tree. Zip gave a bored look -at the lingering guest. - -"_Flor-a-a!_" - -No answer; just the lake, sighing and rippling in the sedge. - -"Could she have gone down to the water?" Howard said; "have you got -such a thing as a lantern? I'll go out and look." - -"No; but light that lamp on the center-table--a candle might blow out." - -He went into the other room, and she heard him scratch a match and -fumble with the lamp-chimney. In that minute, alone, listening all the -while for Flora's returning step, her mind leaped back to that moment in -front of the fire. His look--astounded, incredulous, shocked--was burned -into her memory; his distressed words rung in her ears. She was not -conscious of any pain because he did not love her. She was simply -stunned by the jolt of suddenly and unexpectedly stepping down into the -old, irrational modesties.... - -Her face began to scorch. She went out on the porch and called again, -mechanically; some water dripping from the eaves on her bare head ran -down one blazing cheek; the coolness gave her an acute sense of relief -that struggled through the medley of tearing emotions; she was saying to -herself: "Where can she be? She hasn't washed the dishes! (_He refused -me._)" - -Howard, holding the lamp over his head, came up behind her and went down -the steps into the mist. Fred followed him, Zip lumbering along at her -heels. - -"She must have left the house this way; we know that," she said. - -"Come down to the beach," he said. - -"Yes; sometimes she used to sit on that big rock," Frederica remembered. - -He walked ahead of her; the light, shining through the solferino -lamp-shade, made a rosy nimbus about his bare head, but scarcely -penetrated the fog. They went thus, all three, single file, along the -path to the rickety wooden pier; at the end of it, they stood staring -out into the mist. Twice he called, loudly, "_Flora!_"... - -"Not a sound!" he said. "Is there any possible place in the house where -she could have hidden herself? I mean, gone to sleep, or anything?" - -"Not a place! I've looked everywhere. (_He refused me._)" - -They turned silently to go back. Just as they reached the path again -Howard stopped--so abruptly that the lamp sent a jarring gleam into the -white darkness. - -"_Fred--?_" - -She looked where he was looking, and caught her breath. - -"No!" she said; "oh, no--no! It can't be!" - -"Hold the lamp. I'll go and see--" - -He climbed down the little bluff and waded into the sedge. The swaying -mass that had looked like a stone until a larger wave stirred it, came -in nearer the shore, caught on the shoaling beach, rolled, and was -still. Frederica saw him bend over it, then try, frantically, to lift it -in his arms. She put the lamp on the wharf. ("Don't touch it, Zip!"), -slid, catching at tufts of grass, and bending branches--down the -crumbling bank, plunged into the water up to her knees, and together, -half pulling, half carrying that sodden bundle, they stumbled over the -oozy bottom and through the sedges. The lifting it up the bluff was -terrible; the dripping figure, sagging and bending, was so heavy! - -"We must get her into the house," Frederica panted. And, somehow or -other, they did it, Howard taking the shoulders, and Fred the feet. They -were gasping with the strain of it when they laid her on the floor of -the living-room. - -"Is she dead?" he said. - -Frederica thrust her hand into the bosom of Flora's dress--and held her -breath. - -"I can't tell; we mustn't stop to find out! You know what to do? Pull -her arms up, this way!" - -They stood over her, Howard following Fred's short, sharp directions, -and, even in the horror of the moment, conscious of a wondering -admiration at her efficiency. But no quiver of life came into the still -face. - -"We ought to get a doctor!" Fred said, at last, panting. - -"I'll go instantly!" - -"No, the quickest way will be to take her to a doctor, not bring a -doctor to her!" - -"But if she is dead we ought not to move her! That's the law." - -"Law? I don't care anything about the law! Life is what I'm thinking of! -We don't know whether she's dead or not. Crank your car! I'll get some -blankets--" - -He hurried out, and she rushed up-stairs for blankets. She was folding -them about Flora when he came in, the car chugging loudly at the door. -Again, lifting and straining, they carried her out, and got her into the -tonneau. Then Frederica saw the lamp down on the wharf, burning steadily -in the mist. - -"Put it out! Put it out! Hurry!" she commanded; and while he ran to do -it she darted back to blow out the candles in the living-room and snap -the lock of the front door--"never mind about taking the lamp into the -house. Leave it on the porch!" she said. Then she got in the car and, -sitting down, put an arm about the crumpling, sodden form. Zip, fearful -of being left, jumped on the front seat, and glanced wonderingly back at -his mistress. - -"Fred," Howard said, agitatedly, "I think she's--dead." - -"So do I; but _hurry_! Don't lose a minute!" Then, through the noise of -the clutch, she screamed at him: "Doctor Emma Holt! In Laketon!" And the -car jerked forward. - -"But that's a woman doctor," he called, over his shoulder. - -Just for a moment the habit of revolt asserted itself: "_Why not?_" -Then, "Hurry! Hurry!" - -Dr. Emma Holt was five miles away. "I felt," Howard Maitland used to -say, afterward, "as if she were fifty miles away!" - -The fog was so thick it was impossible to speed with safety, so they -sped without it, and tore bumping along through the white smother. Twice -he looked around, and saw Fred sitting there, rigid, with that face, -open-mouthed, open-eyed, gray under its brown skin, wabbling, and -dripping on her shoulder. - -"She is magnificent!" he thought. "_I_ couldn't do it." - -The second time he looked, some reflection from the lamps, gleaming in -the fog, flickered on that set face, and it seemed as if the eyes -closed, then opened again. The horror of it made his hand jerk on the -wheel, and there was a skid out of the ruts that frightened him into -carefulness. - -When he sprang out at the house of the "woman doctor," he dared not -glance back into the tonneau. Hammering on the panels of the door, and -keeping his thumb on the bell, he called up to an opening window on the -second floor: - -"Doctor! Hurry! A woman has got drowned! Hurry!" - -"Where is she?" came a laconic voice from the window. - -"Here! In my car! Hurry!" - -The window slammed down; a minute later the electric lights were snapped -on in the sleeping house, and hurrying feet came along the hall. - - - - -CHAPTER XX - - -"Of course," Dr. Holt said, when it was plain that nothing more could be -done, "you ought to have left her where she was." - -"But we didn't know whether she was alive--" they excused themselves. - -"Was there anything the matter with her?" the doctor said; she was -beginning to think of the certificate she must make out. "Was she -low-spirited?" - -"She was dreadfully disappointed because she didn't get a letter she was -expecting." - -"Love-letter?" - -"I don't know," Frederica said. - -She and Howard had left the office, where the dead woman lay on the -doctor's lounge, and were standing in the front hall, side by side, like -two children who were being scolded. From above the hat-rack, a mounted -stag's head watched them with faintly gleaming eyes. Dr. Holt, a woman -with a strong, bad-tempered face, was plainly out of patience with them -both. - -"I've got to get the coroner," she said, frowning; "and it's nearly -twelve o'clock." Then she asked a question that was like a little shock -of electricity to the two who, in this last terrifying hour, had -entirely forgotten themselves. "Did she have any love-affair?" - -"Yes," Frederica said, in a low voice. ("_He refused me._") - -"Tell me, please," Dr. Holt persisted. - -"She was--in love." - -"I suppose she was all right? I mean, respectable?" - -"Flora?" Fred said, with a recoil of anger, "of course she was -respectable." - -"That's what I thought. Man desert her? You spoke of a letter--perhaps -she was hoping to hear from him?" - -"No, he didn't exactly desert her. I mean, she thought somebody was in -love with her, several times. But none of the men seemed--" Frederica's -hands clutched together--"to want her. So she was unhappy." - -"Oh," said the doctor. "Yes. I understand. Quite frequent in women of -her age. She would have been all right if she hadn't been--respectable; -or even if she'd got religion, good and hard. Religion," said Dr. Holt, -writing rapidly in a memorandum-book, "is a safety-valve for the -unmarried woman in the forties, whose work doesn't interest her." - -"Flora was as good as anybody could be!" Fred said, hotly. - -"Oh, I didn't mean any reflection on her character," said the doctor, -kindly, "I merely meant that any woman who hasn't either work, or -religion, or marriage, generally gets out of kilter, mentally. Of -course," she meditated, tapping her chin with her fountain-pen, "you two -must go to the coroner's with me." - -In the next hour and a half, of driving about to find the coroner, then -the undertaker, then arranging what was to be done with the body, the -"two" had no time for the self-consciousness that the doctor's words had -rekindled--except for just one moment: they had come back to Dr. Holt's -house, and again were standing in the entry, below the deer's head. In -the office, the coroner was questioning Dr. Holt. The office door was -ajar. - -"This man, Maitland; do you know anything about him? Is he all right? Of -course, you never can tell--" - -At that, they couldn't help looking at each other, with a flash of what -might have been, under other conditions, amusement. - -"Why, he's Howard Maitland!" they heard Dr. Holt say; "you know? The -Maitland Iron Works!" - -"Oh!" the coroner apologized, "I didn't get on to that! 'Course he's all -right." - -Then Dr. Holt: "It appears the poor woman tried to get married, but she -couldn't find a husband. So she killed herself." - -This time the two in the hall did not look at each other. Fred stared up -at the stag's glistening eyes. Howard buckled and unbuckled his -driving-gauntlets. For the rest of her life, Frederica never saw a -mounted deer's head without a stab of remembrance. - -It was nearly four o'clock in the morning when everything was attended -to and Howard turned his car homeward. "Do sit in front with me, Fred," -he said; "you _can't_ sit back there in the tonneau." - -"All right," she said, absently, and, getting in, pulled Zippy on to her -lap. As she sat down, she suddenly realized that Howard's request -implied that he felt an embarrassment for her which she was not feeling -for herself. She began to feel it soon enough! Embarrassment flowed in -upon them both. Howard talked about Flora--then fell silent: ("She -'tried to get married'!") Then Fred talked about her--and fell silent. -("He needn't worry; _I_ won't drown myself!") - -The ride into town was forever! The bleary October dawn had whitened in -the mist like a dead face, before they drew up at 15 Payton Street, and -for the last ten miles they did not exchange a word. Fred was thinking, -dazedly, of Flora; but every now and then would come the stab: "_He -refused me._" - -Howard was thinking only of Fred. "Stunning!" he was saying to himself. -"She's not a girl! She's a man--no, I don't know any man who would have -done what she did. _I_ couldn't have, anyway. I take off my hat to -courage like that!" - - -Not a girl? Fred, not a girl?... - -When at last that dreadful night was over, and he had left the terrified -Payton household, Frederica--the wonderful, the superwoman (superman, -even, compared with Howard himself!), Frederica had, in a flash, been -something less than superwoman; she had been pitifully, stupidly, -incredibly feminine. - -It was six o'clock in the morning when he closed Mrs. Payton's front -door behind him and went out to get in his car--giving a shuddering -glance at that pool of water on the floor of the tonneau. Just as he was -throwing in his clutch he heard the door open again, and Fred called to -him. He went back, quickly; she was standing on the top step, haggard, -ugly, dripping wet; a lock of hair had blown across her cheek, which was -twitching painfully. She put out her hand to him, in a blind sort of -gesture, but she did not look at him. - -"I just wanted--to say," she said, and paused, for the jangle of the -mules' bells and the clatter of a passing car drowned her voice;--"I -wanted to--to say," she began again, with a gasp, "don't--" she stopped, -with a sobbing laugh; "don't--tell Laura." - -Don't tell! - -Oh, she was a girl all right!--so Howard's thoughts ran as he drove home -in the mist that had thickened into rain; Fred was a girl--a trembling, -ignorant, frightened feminine creature! Suppose she did support a dead -woman in her arms during that dreadful ride in the fog; suppose she did -stand by, promptly obedient to the doctor's orders in that frantic time -of endeavor in the office; suppose she had decided, quietly and wisely, -exactly what was to be done, when it was plain that Flora's poor, -melancholy little life had flown; suppose the coroner did say that he -had never seen such nerve; suppose all those things--yet she had said -those two pitiful words: "_Don't tell._" Yes, Fred Payton was a "girl"! - -"You can talk all you want to about the 'new woman,'" Howard said, "I -guess human nature doesn't change much...." - - -It changes so little, that at that revealing instant on the Paytons' -front steps, with the light of the Egyptian maid's globe streaming out -into the rain, he had wanted to put his arms around Freddy and kiss her! -Who knows but what, if there had not been all those weeks of rocking -about on the mud flats, listening to the eternal dry rustle of the -blowing palms, dredging for shells, and bothering about Jack McKnight, -he might not, then and there, in spite of the wonderfulness of her, and -because of the weakness of her, have fallen in love with old Freddy? As -it was, when she said that piteous, feminine thing, the tears had stung -in his eyes; he wrung her hand, stammering out: "_Never!_ Why, I--you--" -But the door closed in his face, and he went back to climb into his -motor and go off to his own house. - -That was at six o'clock; it was nine before Mr. and Mrs. -Childs--summoned, to Billy-boy's great annoyance, while he was -shaving--reached No. 15. They found Mrs. Holmes there ahead of them, and -met Mr. Weston on the door-step. - -In the parlor, watched by Andy Payton's sightless eyes, the court sat -upon Freddy--for, of course, the whole distressing affair was her -fault--she had dragged poor, crazy Flora out to that shocking camp! "I -said last spring it was perfec' nonsense," Mr. Childs vociferated--"a -girl, renting a bungalow! Why did you allow it, Ellen?" - -"My dear William! I was perfectly helpless. Girls do anything nowadays. -When I was a young lady--" - -"_My_ girl doesn't do 'anything,'" Laura's father said; "as for Freddy, -the newspapers will ring with it! Pleasant for me. My niece, alone with -that Maitland fellow! I've always distrusted him. Going off to dig -shells--a man with his income! That showed there's something queer -about him. And Fred alone with him in that bungalow mixed up with a -murder!" - -Mrs. Holmes screamed. - -"Well, suicide. Same thing. It will all come out," said Billy-boy, -standing up with his back to the fire and puffing; "Bessie is really -sick at the scandal." - -"Oh, now, Father, I--" - -"He's got to marry her," said Mrs. Holmes. - -"She helped Mr. Maitland carry Flora out of the water," Mrs. Payton was -explaining; "he told me about it. He said she was very brave, but I know -she got her feet wet; and I always tell her there's no surer way to take -cold than to get your feet wet. And poor Flora! She hasn't any -relations, as far as I can find out; so whom can I notify? When I went -to housekeeping, servants always came from somewhere, and if they got -sick you knew where to send them. I don't want to be unkind, but, -really, it was very inconsiderate in Flora. I suppose she never thought -how hard it would be for Freddy--" - -"Where is Fred, at this moment?" Mr. Weston interrupted. - -"Well, she means to be kind, I'm sure," Mrs. Payton said, "but I do wish -she wasn't so extreme! She has actually gone to the undertaking -place--you know they sent Flora in this morning to Colby's--with some -roses. American Beauties, and you know how much they cost at this -season! She wanted to put them on the coffin herself, and--" - -"Oh, _do_ stop talking about such unpleasant things!" Mrs. Holmes said. - -"Well, I merely meant that it is unnecessary. As I say, Flora has no -relatives, so no one will ever know of the attention. It's just another -wild thing for Freddy to do." - -"Possibly Flora will know it," Mr. Weston said; "at least, wouldn't the -Reverend Tait say so?" - -"Oh," Mrs. Holmes said, frowning, "we are not speaking of religion. -Flora was just a servant." Even Mr. Childs winced at that, and for once -Arthur Weston's face was candid. - -"I suppose _that_ will get into the newspapers, too," said Mrs. -Holmes--"'A young society girl puts roses' ... and all the rest of the -horrid vulgarity of it." - -"I don't think human kindness is ever vulgar," Mr. Weston said, "and I -am sure there will be no improper publicity. Maitland and I have been to -all the newspaper offices." - -"Alone, at midnight, in an auto!" Mrs. Holmes lamented. - -"Death is an impeccable chaperon," Weston said. ("_That_ will shut her -up!" he thought, and it did, for a while.) - -"To think of such a thing happening to one of my servants," Mrs. Payton -bewailed herself; "and I was always so considerate of them!" - -Mrs. Holmes said there was too much consideration for servants, anyhow. -"Let them work! There isn't one of them that will dust the legs of a -piano unless you stand over her! Of course, I'm sorry for Flora; I only -wish I wasn't so sensitive! But she did starch her table linen too much, -Ellen; you can't deny that." - -"Who is going to pay the funeral expenses?" Mr. Childs said. "Does the -city do that, Weston, or is it up to Ellen?" - -"Oh, Mrs. Payton has no responsibilities about Death--only Life," said -Arthur Weston, grimly. - -"Of course I will attend to all that!" Flora's employer said; "anyhow, -her wages for the last month are not due until next week. But, of -course, I shall do everything that is proper." - -"Well," William Childs said, "I must be moving along. I was going to -work out a new Baconian cipher this morning, but, of course, this -wretched business has knocked my mind into a cocked hat! Come, Bessie. -Bessie's perfectly sick over the whole thing. She has her Bridge Club -this afternoon, and this awful affair has completely upset her. Good-by, -Nelly; let me know if there is anything I can do," and he hustled Mrs. -Childs--who kept insisting, mildly, that she was so sorry for poor, dear -Freddy--out of the room. At the door, he paused to call back: "This new -cipher doesn't leave the Shakespearians a leg to stand on!" - -Mrs. Holmes and Mr. Weston lingered, Mrs. Holmes declaring that William -Childs ought to learn to speak distinctly--"he mumbles terribly"--and -Weston, silent and rather wan, walking up and down, waiting for -Frederica's return. - -When they heard the key in the front door, the two ladies stopped -talking; it was Arthur Weston who went into the hall to take Fred's hand -and help her off with her coat. She hung her hat up beside her father's -and gave her old friend a grim look. - -"Has Billy-boy put on the black cap yet? Or does grandmother demand that -Howard shall 'make an honest woman' of me before the sun sets? I know -what you've been up against!" - -"You are perfectly exhausted," he said, tenderly; "go up-stairs; I'll -fight it out." - -"No," she said, briefly. - -She went into the parlor, looked at her grandmother, shrugged her -shoulders, and girded herself for battle: "I'll tell you the whole -story. Poor Flora has been suffering, probably for a year or more, the -doctor says, from some mental deterioration. She was restless and -unhappy. Of course, we knew that, because she did her work badly--which -inconvenienced us. As far as she was concerned, it didn't trouble us. -She was restless, because she wanted to be married and settle down. And -nobody wanted her; which seemed to us just--funny. But when you come to -think of it, it isn't very funny not to be wanted.... When she couldn't -marry, she tried to get interested in something--music, or anything. She -wanted to _do_ something." - -"Do something? Well, I could have giv--" - -"I tried to make things better for her," Fred went on, heavily, "but I -suppose I didn't try hard enough. Well, anyhow, she saw I was in love -with Howard--" a little shock ran through her hearers; she paused, and -looked at them, faintly surprised; "why, you knew I was in love with -him, didn't you? He isn't with me; not in the least. And Flora's young -man wasn't in love with her. He promised to write to her, and he didn't. -And that upset her a good deal. But I think the thing that really hit -her hardest was to see how I felt, and how happy I was. I--I slopped -over, I suppose, a good deal. It was a sort of last straw to Flora to -see me so happy; it made her--well, envious, I suppose. Poor old Flora! -she needn't have been." - -She stopped and put her hand across her eyes, rubbing them wearily. "I -tell you these details merely to explain why I didn't get on to the fact -sooner that she had gone out of the house--I was so absorbed in Howard. -The door _did_ slam, but just at that moment I was ... saying something -to him. So I didn't really notice. Then, afterward, he and I talked and -talked, until it was time for him to go home; and then we discovered--" -She caught her breath and was silent for a moment. - -Her mother was quite overcome. "So distressing for you, dear!" - -Mrs. Holmes began to collect her gloves and bags. - -"Poor Flora!" Fred said, unsteadily. "She was so unhappy. Oh--how -unhappy women are!" - -"That's because they are fools," said Mrs. Holmes. - -"Oh, yes; we're fools, all right," Frederica said, somberly. Then she -told them of that ride in the fog with the dead woman: "We had done -everything we knew how, and we couldn't make her breathe; so I told -Howard we must take her into Laketon, so we got her into the auto, and -I held her--" There was a shuddering gasp from Mrs. Holmes; she was -trying to get away, taking a backward step toward the door, then -pausing, then taking another step. The horror of the thing gripped her. -Weston saw her face growing gray under its powder. But still she -listened, straining forward to hear distinctly. - -Frederica was telling them of those terrible twenty minutes in the car, -of the hour in the doctor's office, of the search for the coroner, of -the drive to the undertaker's--then, suddenly, a curious thing happened: -Mrs. Holmes, her face rigid, her false teeth faintly chattering, came up -to her granddaughter and tapped her sharply on the shoulder. - -"I could have done it, too, when I was a girl," she said, harshly; -"but"--her voice broke into a whisper--"not now. I would be afraid, -now." Then loudly, "I'm proud of you! _You are no fool._" - -Frederica gave her an astonished look: "Why, grandmother!" It was as if -a stranger had spoken to her--but a stranger who might be a friend. - -The next instant Mrs. Holmes was herself again. "It's all too horrid," -she said. - -"The body," Fred said, "will be brought here this morning"--she glanced -at her watch; "it ought to be here now." - -Mrs. Holmes instantly walked out of the room. - -"The funeral will be here to-morrow. I suppose Anne will know some of -her friends whom we can notify?" She sighed, and again rubbed her hand -over her eyes; then looked at Arthur Weston and smiled. "Howard is all -right," she said; "don't make any mistake about _that_! Mother, I'm -going up-stairs to lie down." - -She went out into the hall, stopped to open the front door for her -departing grandmother, then whistled to Zip, and they heard her drag her -tired young feet up-stairs. - -Arthur Weston's eyes were full of tears. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - - -It was extraordinary how much better Mrs. Payton was in the next few -weeks. Every day she sat in the entry outside Mortimore's door, and hour -after hour she and Miss Carter talked about Flora. Sometimes Mortimore -was troublesome, and laughed or bellowed--and then his mother retreated; -when he quieted down, she returned, and took up the story just where it -had been interrupted. After each detail had been recited, and they had -finally buried poor Flora, rehearsing every incident of the funeral, -they would reach the question of the disposition of her possessions. -Miss Carter had packed them up, and knew just how valueless they -were--"except that lovely collar you gave her. Now _I_ think that is too -good for the Salvation Army!" - -At this point the discussion was apt to become heated, Miss Carter -contending that Flora's things should be sent to one of the negro -schools in the South, and Mrs. Payton standing firmly for the Salvation -Army. Frederica, asked to decide between them, said, briefly, "Burn -'em." - -"Wouldn't that be wasteful?" Mrs. Payton objected, gently. - -She was very gentle to Fred now. Her daughter's statement about being -"in love" had been a very great shock to her, not because of its -"indelicacy," painful as that was, but because it awoke in her an -entirely new idea: _Freddy was unhappy!_ It had never occurred to Mrs. -Payton that Freddy could be unhappy about anything--Freddy, who was -always so strong and self-sufficient! That she should suffer, made her -mother feel nearer to her than she had since Frederica was little, and -had scarlet fever, and Mrs. Payton hadn't taken off her clothes for four -days and four nights. So, when her daughter's drooping lip expressed -what she thought of that endless gossiping about Death outside -Mortimore's door, Mrs. Payton was very gentle, and only said that it -would be wasteful to burn Flora's things. Then she tried to explain that -she sat near Morty to cheer Miss Carter. (Freddy must not think it was -on Morty's account! It would be too dreadful if now, "on top of -everything else," she should be brooding over those impatient words, -repented of the minute they were spoken!) - -But Fred displayed no signs of brooding over anything. She took up her -interest in Life just where it had paused for a moment at the touch of -Love. But before she settled down into the commonplaces, of real estate, -and dances, and league work, she had that Pause out with herself.... - -She told her mother that she was going to the bungalow to put things to -rights. (This was about five days after Flora's death.) "Everything is -just as we left it. She hadn't even washed the dishes. And I left a few -things there that I must bring home." - -"Take Anne to help you." - -"Anne would have a fit--she's so superstitious! No; I don't need -anybody." - -"I'll go with you," Mrs. Payton ventured. - -Fred was frankly amused at the suggestion. "You! No; much obliged, but I -don't want any one." - -Mrs. Payton did not urge; back in her mind there was a dim memory of a -time when she, too, had been alive--and suffered, and wanted to be -alone. She said something, hesitatingly, to this effect to Arthur -Weston, who dropped in that morning to know how they were getting along. - -"Freddy has gone out to that awful place, to pack up," she said; "I'm -sure it's very damp, and I'm terribly afraid she'll take cold. But she -would go. Sometimes a person likes to be by themselves," she ended. - -He was surprised at such understanding; but he only said, quietly, that -he would drive out late in the afternoon and bring her home in his car. -"She can have eight hours to herself," he said. (He had had some hours -to himself in the last few days; hours of pacing up and down his -library--saying over and over, "If Maitland isn't in love with her, why -shouldn't I at least tell her that I--? No! I have no chance. But if she -_should_ forget him? No, no. I mustn't think of it!") - -For the eight hours alone Frederica had been thirsting: - -Solitude. - -Lapping--lapping--lapping water. - -Wind in the branches. - -Shadows traveling across distant hills. - -And no human face! No human sound! - -So, with Zip under her arm, she took the early train to Lakeville. - -From the station she walked along the sandy road where dead leaves had -begun to fill the wheel-ruts, down to the huddle of boarded-up cottages -on the shore. The last time she had gone over that road, how thick the -fog had been! Now, the lake was a placid white shimmer against the -horizon's brooding haze, and the glimmering October sunshine lay like -gilt on the frosted ferns and brakes. She did not meet a single soul. -Except for Zip, dashing along in front of her, or an occasional crow -cawing, and flapping from one tree-top to another, there was only the -wide silence of the sky. The sense of getting away from people gave her -a feeling of relief that was almost physical. - -When she reached Lakeville the sight of Sunrise Cottage was like a blow; -she stopped short, and caught her breath. The lamp Howard had left -outside the house had fallen over--perhaps a squirrel had upset it; the -solferino shade was in fragments; leaves had blown up on the porch. But -the flinching was only for a moment--then she turned the key in the -lock. - -The bungalow, with its shut-up smell, was just as they had left it, -except that, in some indescribable way, it had lost the air of human -habitation. Perhaps because Death had been there. In the faint draught -from the open door a sheet of music slipped from the piano to the floor -and some ashes blew out of the fireplace. The cottage was absolutely -silent. - -Frederica felt cold between her shoulders. She did not want to go in, -she did not want to have to turn her back on the stairs that led up to -the vacant rooms--Flora's room! She shivered; set her lips and -entered--but she left the door open behind her into the living world. - -The emptiness of the house clamored in her ears. She found herself -looking, with a sort of fascination, at the disorder of the -chairs--which stood just as Howard had pushed them aside when they -brought Flora in. On the arm of the morris chair was a brass plate -heaped with cigarette-ashes. For some obscure reason those ashes seemed -to her unendurable--how they had glowed, and faded, and glowed again, -filling the room with warm and lazy smoke, while she and Howard--She -lifted the little tray and threw the ashes, almost with violence, into -the fireplace. The movement broke the spell that had held her there -looking at things--at the learned books, filmed with dust, at the -half-burned candles, at the withered roses on the table. Zip nosed about -at that water-soaked spot on the rug, and she spoke to him sharply; then -went over and closed the piano. - -After that, it was easier to go out to the kitchen, though there was -still a tremor at the thought of those empty rooms overhead. Spread out -on the table were the cards, just as Flora had left them. In the sink -was the clutter of unwashed dishes.... Fred drew a long breath, opened -all the windows, lighted a fire in the stove, and went to work. - -Of course the exertion of packing and cleaning was a relief. There was a -great deal to do. So much that she felt at first that she should need -another day to get through with it. But her capability was never more -marked--by noon she began to see the end. She ate her luncheon walking -about, holding a sandwich in one hand and packing books with the other. -She had arranged with her landlord to send a van to the cottage for the -piano, and it was also to carry her things back to town; she had thought -of every detail. It was the way she did all her work--drawing up leases, -or talking to women's clubs, or, of late, "making things pleasant" at -Payton Street. Even now, shrinking from the work that must be done -up-stairs, where it was all so empty--so full of Flora!--she was -efficient, methodical, thorough. She scanted nothing. Yet no amount of -busyness dulled the ache of misery which had goaded her out here to be -alone--but she was impatient at herself for feeling the ache. - -It was so unreasonable to be miserable! - -When everything was done--the kitchen tidied, books and clothing and -personal odds and ends packed, even the little white curtains in the -empty rooms up-stairs, all limp and stringy from the creeping October -fogs, pressed and folded and put away--it was still early afternoon. But -there was no train into town until five; she would give herself up to -the silence. - -She went out on the porch and sat down on the lowest step in the -sunshine. Zip ran about, chased a squirrel, then, curling up on her -skirt, went to sleep. Sometimes she rubbed his ears, sometimes stared -out over the lake-- - -_She had been refused._ "I am hard hit," she admitted, and her face -quivered. However, she could stand being hit! She could take her -medicine, and not make faces. Arthur Weston had said that about her, -and she liked to remember it. - -Suddenly her mind veered away into all sorts of unrelated things. Queer -that Howard cared so much for shells. He had found that pearl in a -shell; the pearl that she had thought--_oh_, what a fool she had -been!--was meant for her. That old seed-pearl set of her mothers', pin -and ear-rings, would make a dandy pendant. She believed she'd ask her -mother for it. Except on this shell-digging business, how entirely -Howard and she agreed about everything! Few men and girls were so in -accord, mentally. Imagine Howard trying to talk to any of the girls of -her set--even to Laura--as he talked to her! Why, Laura would be dumb -when he got on the things that were worth-while. He had once said that -he would rather talk to her than any girl he knew; no--it was to "any -man" he knew. For a moment the old pride rose--then fell. She almost -wished he _had_ said to "any girl." Well; no girl--or man, either--could -have done better than she did on that poster scheme. Howard would say so -when she would tell him about it, and she was going to tell him; she was -going to talk to him just as she had always talked--about everything on -earth! She _must_; or else he would think that she was ... hard hit; and -that she simply couldn't bear! The poster scheme reminded her of some -league work she had neglected in these five days of tingling emptiness, -and she frowned. "Gracious! I must attend to that," she said. She did -not know it, but her bruised mind was fleeing for shelter into -trivialities. Suddenly she took her purse out of her pocket, thrust a -thumb and finger into the place where she kept her visiting-cards, and -took out a burnt match. She looked at it for a moment with a grunt of -bitter laughter; then, finding a little stick, dug a hole in the path, -laid the match in, covered it, and stepped on it, hard. - -"That is the end," she said. - -After a while she realized that she was cold, and went back into the -house and kindled a fire. She sat down on a hassock, and stretched out -her hands to the blaze. The sunshine came through the uncurtained window -and laid a finger on the soot on the chimney back; its faint iridescence -caught her eye. Was it only Monday night that she and Howard had sat -here by the fire, and he had kicked the logs together on the andirons, -and the sparks had caught in the soot and spread and spread in marching -rosettes? Why, it seemed years! It was then that she had--asked him. - -She wasn't ashamed of it! She had proposed and been refused. "He thought -it was stunning in me to do it; he said so! He feels as I do about the -equality of men and women in this kind of thing, as well as everything -else. Of course, he may have said so just to--to make it easier for me? -If I thought _that_--" - -The blood rushed into her face. She would not think that! It would be -unendurable to think he had not been sincere. "He felt it was perfectly -all right for me to be the one to speak. And it was!" - -Of course it was. There was nothing for her to be ashamed of. She -herself had once refused an offer of marriage, and certainly the -rejected suitor had not seemed to suffer any pangs of shame! He had -displayed a rather mean anger: "He wanted my money, and he was hopping -mad when he couldn't get it. I didn't want to get anything. I only -wanted to give! So why don't I brace up? I had a right to 'give.'" - -She was quite certain that she had a right, so why was she so miserable? -So--ashamed. - -In spite of herself she said the word. She had shied away from it, and -refused to utter it, a dozen times; but at last, here, alone, she had to -tell herself the truth. - -She was ashamed. - -It is only when Truth speaks to us, as in the cool of the day the Voice -of God spoke in the Garden, that the human creature knows he is ashamed. -Not to feel Shame is to be deaf to that Voice. Frederica was not deaf; -but the Voice was very faint, very wandering and indirect. She could -hardly hear it. It spoke first in her vague wish that Howard had said he -would rather talk to her than any "girl" he knew; and then it spoke in -the wonder whether a man does like to be "asked." - -"If he doesn't, it's just idiotic tradition. It belongs to the days of -slavery!" - -But how did the tradition grow up that a woman mustn't ask a man to -marry her? She tried to remember something Arthur Weston once said about -men being "born hunters." Her lip drooped, angrily; "Rot!" she said; -"when it comes to love, a woman has as much at stake as a man. No, she -has more at stake! She has the child. Queer," she thought, "the woman is -always the one who sticks to the child." She wondered if that was -because women pay such a price for children? It occurred to her, with a -sense of having made a discovery, that all through nature, the mother -cares for her offspring just in proportion to what it costs her to bring -it into the world. - -She rolled Zip over on his back and pulled his ears, her mind dwelling, -with the ancient resentment of her sex, upon the unfairness of -nature--for the father pays no price! "I wonder if that explains -desertion? I wonder if men desert girls, after they've got them into -trouble, simply because the child costs them nothing? But how the girls -stick to the babies, poor things! _They_ hardly ever go off on their own -bat. And yet" (thus the Voice was speaking!), "the child needs a father -to take care of it, as much as a mother, so the man and the woman ought -to keep together.... But _he's_ the one who goes off! It ought to be tit -for tat! Women ought to do the deserting," she said, passionately; but a -moment later came the cynical admission: "Men wouldn't mind being -'deserted.' They'd probably like it. They ought to be _made_ to be -constant. When we get the vote, we'll make laws to stop their -'deserting'!" - -Then she wavered; as far as laws go, there were enough now. The fact -was, men were naturally faithless! "I hate men," she said, between her -set teeth. Arthur Weston was right, they were "hunters." They are -constant--in pursuit. "We ought to keep them on the hot-foot, then -they'd be more keen to stay with us!" In a flash came the rest of -Weston's comment: "They won't bag the game, if it perches on their -fists." Her face reddened violently. She had come, head on, against a -biological fact, namely, that reluctance in the woman makes for -permanence in the man. - -_Reluctance!_... - -Her mother's tiresome talk about "cheapness" was suddenly intelligible. -How foolish the word had sounded! Yet, perhaps, under its foolishness -lay a primitive fact: that the welfare of the child demands a permanent -relation between the father and the mother. But in proportion as she is -"cheap," he is temporary, and the relationship is jeopardized! - -She did not put it into words, but she realized, amazed, that woman, -whether she knows it or not, acts upon this old race knowledge. For the -child's sake, she tries, by every sort of lure, to hold man to -permanence which she will herself acquire by the fierce welding of -agony. The surest "lure" is based upon the fact that man pursues that -which flees; but all the lures spring from Nature's purpose to safeguard -the child by giving it the care of two instead of one. For the "child" -is the most important thing in the world! - -Fred was thinking hard. Sometimes she put a stick on the fire, and once -she got up and paced about the room. It came over her, with a rush of -surprise, that all the talk of what girls must and mustn't do, "all the -drivel about 'propriety'!" was based on this same Race instinct. - -She saw that for a girl to love a man, unasked, is neither ignoble nor -immodest. It is divine to love--always! Such love is a jewel, worn -unseen above a girl's heart; to offer it, is to take it out of its white -shelter and fling it into hands that, not having sought it, will soon -let it drop between indifferent fingers. She saw how this Race instinct -has gradually--and oh, so painfully, oh, so foolishly, with failure, and -agony, and tragic absurdities of convention, taught women the value of -the reticence of modesty. - -Taught them that they must not be "cheap"! - -It came to her that it was the business of women like herself--the "new" -women, who are going to set Woman free!--it was their business to -discard the absurdities, but keep the beauties and dignities; for beauty -and dignity are "lures," too. "They _attract_. I suppose that is what -Grandmother means by 'charm,'" she reflected; "she said I hadn't any." -Her face suddenly scorched; to discover a temperamental deficiency made -her wince; it was like discovering a physical blemish. She understood, -now, what Arthur Weston meant when he "rowed" about her being in the -apartment alone with Howard. She had been "cheap." She had "perched on -his fist." He had had no inclination to bag the game.... - -It was all very loose and incoherent thinking; she caught at one fact, -only to find it contradicted by another fact. But in all her mental -confusion one anguished wish stood fast: - -"Oh, if I _only_ hadn't asked him!" - -In her futile shame, her head fell on her knees and she caught her -breath in a sort of sob--then sat upright, listening intently: a motor! -_Howard?_ In spite of reason, a leap of hope made her gasp. - -She rose quickly, and stood, her hand over her lips--waiting.... Then -she saw the car, and her heart seemed to drop in her breast; it was only -Arthur Weston. - -He came in, saying, cheerfully, he had heard she was packing, and had -come out to bring her back to town. "We can load the tonneau with -anything you want to take home," he said; "I suppose you haven't any tea -for a wayfarer?" He was very matter-of-fact; he saw the tremor and heard -the catch in the breath. - -There was some tea, she said--but no cream; she would boil some water. - -He sat down, and she waited on him, getting herself in hand, even to the -extent of some pitiful little impertinences. Then, by and by, they -carried her things out to the auto. "My landlord is going to send for -the piano," she said; "all I have to do is to close the shutters." - -He went about with her, helping her, teasing her, and scolding her -because she was tired. When everything was done, and they were just -leaving the house, she paused abruptly, and her hands went up to her -eyes. - -"Poor Flora!" - -He was standing beside her, gentle and pitying, longing to draw those -shaking hands down from her hidden face: "You were always good to her," -he said. - -"No!" she said, in a smothered voice; "no." Then, suddenly, she turned -toward him and sank against his shoulder. He felt the sob that shook her -from head to foot. Instinctively, his arms went about her, and he held -her close to him; he was silent, but he trembled and those passionate -and sensitive eyebrows twitched with pain. It was only for a moment that -he felt her sobbing weight--then she flung her head up, her face -quivering and smeared with tears. "What a liar I am! I'm not crying -about Flora at all. I'm just--unhappy. That's all." - -He took her hand and held it to his lips, silently. - -"I'm tired," she said; "--no! no! I _won't_ lie--I _won't_ lie! I'm not -tired. I've been a fool! That's all. A fool." - -"We all have to be fools, Fred, before we can be wise." - -She had drawn away from him, with a broken laugh. "You don't know -anything about it! _You_ don't know what it's like to be a fool!" - -"Don't I? I was a very big fool myself, once. But I'm so wise now that -I'm glad of all the blows my folly gave me then. I'll tell you about it, -one of these days." - -He told her as they drove back to town. "And," he ended, "I can see that -the best thing that ever happened to me was to have Kate jilt me." - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - - -After Fred had gone out into the wilderness, and learned her lesson; -after that long day in the cottage, when her mind had emptied itself of -some of its own certainties, so that deep, primitive knowledges could -flow into it, she took up life again in her own way. She went to her -office, she exercised Zip, she accepted every invitation that came to -her; but she got thin. "Scrawny," her grandmother called it. Also, she -expended a good deal of money on a bridesmaid's dress--for something had -happened! Happened, curiously enough, on the very afternoon when she was -studying that hard page of Nature's book, all alone, in the empty -cottage by the lake.... - -The very next morning Laura had burst into 15 Payton Street. "Swear not -to tell," she said; and when Fred had sworn, the secret--glowing, -wonderful! was told in two words: - -"_I'm_ engaged!" - -Then came an ecstatic recital, ending with "I've decided on daffodil -yellow for your dresses. Rather far ahead--for it isn't to be until the -middle of December. But I think it's just as well to plan, don't you?" - -"Of course it is," Fred agreed. ("_Oh, if I only hadn't asked him!_") - -"Billy-boy will juggle out enough money for the finest satin going, for -his only daughter; but you girls can have perfectly sweet flowered -voile, over yellow charmeuse. I've a corking idea for your hats." Then -she looked at Fred closely. "You're not a bit surprised; I believe you -knew what was going to happen!" - -Fred laughed non-committally. Laura herself had been so far from knowing -what was going to happen, that Howard Maitland had to fairly pound it -into her that he was in love with her! He had not meant to tell her so -soon. It wouldn't be decent, he thought, remembering that night in the -cottage. He hadn't meant to speak for at least a month. He was going to -mark time, and forget that there had ever been a minute when Fred Payton -had imagined she cared about him--"for, of course, that was all it -amounted to," he told himself; "imagination!" There was more modesty -than truth in his phrase, yet his conviction was sincere enough--"A girl -like Fred couldn't really care for _me_. I'm not up to her!" - -It was characteristic of his simple soul, that he told Laura the same -thing, when he blundered into the proposal that he had meant to hold -back for a month. It was wrung from him by his despair at her -misunderstanding his feeling about Fred. He was in full swing of -haranguing her upon the wonderfulness of her cousin--"Of course; she's -perfectly stunning," Laura had interrupted; "I know she's simply great. -But why on earth you two don't announce your engagement I can't imagine! -You make me a little tired," she said, good-naturedly, but rather -obviously bored. - -"Announce our _what_?" - -"Engagement. Do you suppose we are all blind?" - -Howard Maitland actually whitened a little under his Philippine tan. -"You are mistaken, Laura," he said, quietly. "If I have given you the -impression that Fred had the slightest feeling for me, I ought to be -kicked." - -Laura turned an indignant face toward him: "Do you mean to tell me that -Fred has only been flirting with you? I don't believe it! She's not that -kind." - -They were in the Childses' parlor in the yellow dusk of the autumn -afternoon. Laura had given her caller two cups of tea with four lumps of -sugar in each cup, and Howard, between innumerable little cakes, had -been telling her again of Frederica's behavior that terrible night at -the camp. It was at least the third time that she had heard the grim -details, and each time she had shivered and wished he would stop. To -silence him, she had charged upon him for not announcing his engagement; -it seemed flippant, but it would change the subject. His dismay made her -forget Flora, in real bewilderment. Not engaged to Fred! Had Fred played -with him? - -"If Fred's been just flirting, she ought to be ashamed," Laura said, -hotly; "she knew you were perfectly gone on her." - -"Laura, _you_ didn't suppose such a thing?" - -"That you were gone on Fred? Of course I did! I knew you were crazy -about her, a year ago; and so did she. Howard, I'm awfully sorry." - -"Sorry--for what?" - -"For you." - -Howard Maitland got on his feet, and walked the length of the room, and -back; he said something under his breath. Then he drew up a chair beside -her and took her hand. - -"I never thought of such a thing." - -"What!" - -"You are the only girl I ever cared two cents for." - -She put her hand against her young breast, in astounded question: "_I?_" - -"I should think you'd have seen it. You, and--and everybody." - -"But Howard, it can't be--_me_?" she protested, faintly. - -"It's been you, always. When you accuse me of being in love with--with -anybody else, and say everybody thought so, you just bowl me over!" His -shocked astonishment left no doubt of his sincerity. - -"But Freddy," Laura began-- - -He broke in sharply: "Fred knows how tremendously I admire her. I've -always said so, to you and to her, too. And I believe she likes me as -much as she likes any of us fellows--but of course I'm not up to her, -and she never flirted with me in her life! She's not the kind of girl -who wants to collect scalps," he said, almost with anger. "I never -thought of--caring for her. Why, I--I _couldn't_ care for Fred!" - -"But you were always talking about her, and--" - -"Of course I talked about her! Doesn't everybody talk about her? But as -for being in love with her--Laura, I tell you, you are the only girl in -existence, so far as I'm concerned. I suppose you don't care anything -about me." - -Laura put her hands over her face, and laughed; then stretched them out -to him, and the tears brimmed over.... "Oh, Howard, you are such a -goose!" - -There was a speechless moment; then he put his arms around her, kissed -the fluffy hair that brushed his lips, and said, "Oh, my little darling! -my little love...." - -After that they had to talk it all over, and there were endless -explanations. - -"You do believe I never thought of--anybody else?" he asked, again and -again. And she said yes, she believed it, but she didn't understand it. - -"Why, I was so sure you were in love with her, I used to give you -chances to be together. Do you remember that afternoon you went to say -good-by to her, before you went to the Philippines? I stayed up-stairs -to give you a chance to ask her." - -"_Laura!_" - -"I did." - -"How could you be so absurd?" - -"Everybody thought so." - -That silenced him. He was horribly ashamed. It was his fault, then, that -night in the cottage? "Everybody thought so." So, naturally, Fred -thought so--and she was the noblest and most generous woman in the -world! "It's my fault somehow, that she spoke," he told himself, in a -passion of humiliation. - -That night he wrote to her. The engagement was not to "come out" for two -or three weeks;--"only the family must know," Laura said; but Howard had -protested: "Fred--let's tell Fred?" - -"Well," Laura consented, reluctantly, "I'll go and see her to-morrow -morning and make her swear not to tell." - -"She can keep a secret," he said. He did not add that Fred should learn -the secret before to-morrow morning. "I'm the one to break it to her," -he thought. Then mentally kicked himself for saying "break it." - -When he sat down at his desk that night to write to her, his face was -rigid at what was before him; it was nearly dawn before the task was -finished; letters--long letters, short letters, letters expressing his -admiration for her, letters ignoring it, letters about Laura, about the -Philippines, about Flora--were written out, torn up, flung into the -waste-basket. Then came the brief, blunt truth-telling: Laura had -accepted him, and he knew that she, his old pal, would wish them -happiness. Of course there was a postscript: she would be their very -best friend, because they both thought she was the finest woman they -knew. - -When the letter was addressed and sealed, he went out into the -four-o'clock-in-the-morning stillness, and walked over to Payton Street -to slip it into the letter-box of the sleeping house. He would not trust -it to the mail; he would run no risk of Laura's arriving before the -first delivery. Fred mustn't be caught off guard! Then he walked -home--glanced at a little suspiciously by an officer on his somnolent -beat--about as uncomfortable a young man as ever realized his own -happiness in contrast to some one else's unhappiness--for, in spite of -his modest disclaimer, he knew that Fred was unhappy: "How would I feel -if Laura had refused me? And, of course, Fred is harder hit than a man -would be." - -But, no matter how hard hit she was, thanks to that letter, the next -morning, when Laura swore her to secrecy, and said that the bridesmaids' -hats would be _dreams_! Fred's upper lip was smilingly stiff. - -It was just after that that Mrs. Holmes began to say that her -granddaughter was "scrawny." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - - -Often, in those weeks before Laura's wedding, Mrs. Payton, working out a -puzzle, or playing Canfield on the big rosewood table in the -sitting-room, would stop and stare straight before her, with unseeing -eyes.... Like a needle working its way through nerveless flesh toward -some vital spot, a new emotion, _anger_, was penetrating the routine of -her meaningless days. - -_Laura had cut Freddy out!_ - -Love for Morty, the dam love, which is the habit of the body and has -nothing to do with the intellect, was pushed aside by the new idea: -Freddy was suffering because Laura had stolen her lover. - -"It was despicable in her!" Mrs. Payton said to herself--and the -needle-point of anger came a little nearer to that sleeping nerve of -maternity, which, when it was reached, would, in a pang of exquisite -pain, make her love Fred as she had never loved anything in her life. - -Mrs. Payton put a black nine on a red eight; saw her mistake, frowned, -and put out a mechanical hand to correct it. "I wonder if she would -drink a glass of malted milk at night, if I fixed it for her?" she -thought; and uncovered an ace. "Laura hasn't half her brains!" she said, -and put the card in the ace row; "how could Mr. Maitland see anything -to her--except looks? She _is_ pretty. But Freddy is worth a dozen of -her, and he was head over ears in love with her! Yes; Laura simply took -him from her! I shall never feel the same to Laura again;--and I suppose -Bessie and William expect me to give her a handsome wedding-present." -She wondered, with vague malice, whether there wasn't something in the -house--the old wonder of the reluctant giver of gifts!--that she could -send Laura? Some family silver; the epergne, for instance, three silver -squirrels holding a platter on their heads. - -The question of the wedding-present was so irritating to her, that in -the afternoon, when Freddy came in, rather listlessly (this was in -November--a month before the wedding), Mrs. Payton referred the matter -to her--shifting her angry pain to Freddy's galled young shoulders. -There was no wincing. - -"What shall we give Laura?" - -"Something bully! I was talking to her about it to-day, and asked her -what she wanted. I think a rug is the thing." - -"I wonder if some of the Payton silver--" Mrs. Payton began--but Fred -threw up horrified hands. - -"No! No second-hand goods! And it's got to be something first rate, too; -(if it takes my last dollar!)" she added, under her breath. - -The rug did not take quite the last dollar, but it took more than she -could afford, and Laura was perfectly delighted with it. Howard, -standing on it, his hands in his pockets, dug an appreciative heel into -its silky nap, and made his usual comment: "It's bully! Fred's taste is -great!" - -Sometimes, looking back on the night that Flora died, Howard wondered if -it all (except the poor soul's suicide) was not a dream? For Fred _was_ -so "bully"!... Entering into all Laura's ecstasies and anxieties; crazy -to know who would make the wedding-dress; perfectly wild over Howard's -present to his bride; frantic because it was too early to get jonquils -for the rope down each side of the aisle.... That astounding moment in -the bungalow must have been, Howard told himself, a dream! Two -dreams--his and Fred's, for she evidently cared no more for him than for -old Weston. - -So the days passed (Howard thought they never would pass!) and the Day -drew near. When it came, Frederica Payton's head was as high as any of -the other young heads. There were eight of them, in most marvelous and -expensive yellow hats, to follow the shimmering Laura up the aisle. At -the reception afterward, Frederica, in her vivid joyousness almost--so -her Uncle William said--"took the shine off the bride! Remember -Shakespeare (as _you'd_ say)-- - - - "Bring in our daughter - Clothed like a bride ... - See, where she comes, - Appareled like the spring,"-- - - -Mr. Childs quoted, puffing happily--"but that frock you've got on is -spring-like, too--all yellow and white, like buttercups and daisies." - -"I'm rather stuck on it, myself," Fred said, complacently; she was -standing beside Arthur Weston, eating ice-cream with appetite. - -"Well," her uncle said, chuckling, "I may tell you in confidence--Hey, -Howard!" he interrupted himself, clutching at the passing bridegroom, "I -was just telling Freddy that I was very much astonished when I learned -that you were to be my son-in-law. I thought you were making up to her!" - -"To _me_?" said Fred, incredulously; "he never knew I existed when Laura -was around!" - -"I'm just looking for Laura now," Howard said, with a gasp; "she's -deserted me!" he complained, laughing--and escaped. - -"Oh," Mr. Childs said, clapping his niece on the shoulder so heartily -that her ice-cream spilled over, "of course I know, now, that it's -always been Laura!" - -"Yes," Fred agreed, gaily, "he's been dead set for Lolly for the last -two years." - -So she got through with the Day.... When she reached home, and up in her -own room took off the yellow hat, she took off that gallant smile, too; -she had worn it until the muscles about her lips were stiff. She was -profoundly fatigued; too fatigued to feel anything but relief that the -wedding was over. Even the old ache of wishing she "hadn't told him" was -numbed. It was part of the generosity of her honest, sore young heart, -that she felt a faint satisfaction in the fact that, anyhow, _he_ was -happy; as for Laura--"how mean I am to--dislike her! It wasn't her -fault, and she's just the same old Lolly. I _won't_ dislike her! I'll -love her, just as I've always loved her." When she went down to dinner -that night she put the smile on again, and was very airy and smart in -her comments to Mrs. Payton upon the Childs family, and the company in -general. - -"Laura was perfectly sweet! But Aunt Bessie is too fat to wear such -tight clothes. Why do the fat fifties always wear tight clothes?... -Grandmother wasn't shy on powder, was she?... Billy-boy would talk about -Bacon at his own funeral!... How many kinds of a fool do you suppose -that old hag, Maria Spencer, is?... I--I guess I'll go to bed. I was an -idiot to eat ice-cream; it always makes my head ache." - -Perhaps her head ached too badly for sleep. At any rate, hours later, -when 15 Payton Street had sunk into midnight darkness, she heard a board -creak under a careful step in the hall, and sat up in bed, saying, -sharply, "Who's that?" - -"It's I, dear. Don't be frightened." Mrs. Payton came feeling her way -across the room to Fred's bedside. - -"Is anything the matter? Is Mortimore--" - -"No, no; nothing! Only, Freddy, my darling, I--I just want to tell you -something." She sat down on the edge of the bed, and Frederica heard her -draw in her breath in a sob. - -"Mother! Are you ill?" - -"No--no. But Freddy, I--I didn't mean it when I said that about -Mortimore." - -"Said what?" Fred said, frowning with anxiety; "here, let me light the -gas!" - -"No, don't!" Mrs. Payton put a restraining hand on her daughter's -shoulder; "about--about loving him best. I don't, dear; truly I don't." - -"But, Mother!"--Fred put her arms about the soft, loose figure that -tumbled into sobs against her--"I didn't know you said it, and if you -did, I don't mind it in the least!" She felt her mother's tears on her -cheek, and gathered her up against her breast; "Why, Mother! It's all -right--really it is. It's all right to love him best--" - -"But I don't--I _don't_! I love you best." - -"Why," Fred soothed her, "I didn't even remember you'd said it. You only -told me I was like Father--and that did me good." - -"No! I never said you were! And it isn't so. You're _not_--not a bit! My -little Freddy!" - -Frederica smiled grimly in the darkness, and she let the statement pass; -for suddenly something surged up in her breast; something she had never -felt in her life; something that was actual pain; she had no name for -it, but it made the tears sting in her eyes. "There, dear, there!" she -comforted her cowering mother; ... "I understand," she said, brokenly; -"I understand!" - -It is a wonderful moment, this moment of "understanding." It made Fred -draw the foolish gray head down on her young breast, and caress and -comfort it, as years ago her own little head had been caressed and -kissed. They were both "mothers" at that moment. - -So Laura's wedding-day was lived through. And by and by the weeks that -followed were lived through. And then the months pushed in between Fred -and that night at the camp. She never spoke of Howard and Laura. - -"I wonder if she's got over it," Mrs. Payton speculated, wistfully. She -was glad, for her part, that the bride and bridegroom had gone abroad, -and she did not have to see them--"especially Laura!" she used to say to -herself, bitterly. If Fred was bitter, she didn't show it; she was -absorbed in league work, and a really growing real-estate business; it -was all she could do to find time to listen when her mother talked, and -talked, and talked--or people, or puzzles, or parlor-maids! But how -could she fail to listen--no matter how dull and foolish the talk -was--remembering that midnight of pity? - -"Freddy is getting very companionable," Mrs. Payton told Arthur Weston. -He had come upon Fred bending over a puzzle spread out on the big table -in the sitting-room, and trying to fit one wriggly piece of blue after -another into a maliciously large expanse of uncharted sky; she had been -obviously relieved at the chance to shift the entertainment of Mrs. -Payton to his shoulders. - -"I've got to go to a league meeting," she excused herself. When she had -gone and he was standing with his back to the fire, sipping his tea and -talking pleasantly of the weather, or the barber's children, or poor -Flora's tendency to put too much starch in the table linen (raising his -voice, in a matter-of-fact way, when there was a noise behind the door -of the other room), he agreed warmly with Mrs. Payton's tribute to her -daughter: "Freddy is getting companionable." - -"Indeed she is!" he said, and added that she was remarkably clever -about puzzles--which pleased Mrs. Payton very much. This new sense of -sympathy which held Fred down to picture puzzles, made her try to avoid -topics on which she knew she and her mother could not agree. As the -winter went on, the especial topic to be avoided was a strike among the -rubber workers. Fred was passionately for the strikers, who were all -girls. She went constantly to Hazelton, where the factory was, to give -what help she could to the union women, and to admonish them that the -way to cure industrial conditions, which all fair-minded people admitted -were frightful, was by the ballot. - -"Get the man's ballot, and you'll get the man's wages!" was her -slogan--and she was quite fierce with her man of business when he -pointed out the economic fallacy of her words. - -"The kingdom of God cometh not by the ballot," he admonished her. - -"I feel as if I were going to Sunday-school!" - -"A little Sunday-school wouldn't hurt you. It never seems to strike -you," he ruminated, "that if 'laws,' which you are so anxious to have a -hand in making, could settle supply and demand, the men, poor creatures, -would have feathered their own nests a little better." - -To which Miss Payton replied, concisely, "Rot!"--and continued to tell -the strikers that suffrage was a cure-all. - -It was in March that one of the morning papers announced, with snobbish -detail, that Miss Freddy Payton, a "young society girl," had "patrolled" -to keep off scabs. That evening, at dinner, Mrs. Payton, mortified to -death at the notoriety, and encouraged by Arthur Weston's presence at -the table, ventured into controversy: - -"When I was a young lady--" she began, and instantly Frederica's lance -was in rest! She did not mean to be cruel--but she couldn't help being -smart. Her mother's injured sense of propriety was batted back to her -across the dinner-table, like a shuttlecock from a resounding -battledore. - -"You may say what you like," Mrs. Payton said, obstinately, "but I don't -believe it would make a bit of difference to give those perfectly -uneducated Italian girls a vote. It hasn't," she ended, with one of -those flashes of shrewdness so characteristic of dull women, "made any -difference in the men's wages. And, anyhow, I don't understand why you -like to mix yourself up with all sorts of persons." - -"The Founder of your religion mixed Himself with all sorts of persons," -Frederica said, wickedly; "but, of course, He would not be in society -to-day." - -"That is a very irreverent thing to say," Mrs. Payton said, stiffly. - -("Now, why," Mr. Weston pondered, "why doesn't the atrocious taste of -that sort of talk cure me? Because," he answered himself, "it 'amuses' -me! Oh, Cousin Eliza, you are a wise old woman!") - -As for Frederica, she was not conscious that her lack of taste was -amusing; but she knew it was unkind, and felt the instant stab of -remorse. ("I'm just like Father!" she groaned to herself); then with -resolution she began to talk about puzzles; she said she thought the -reason her mother couldn't work out that six-hundred-piece one was -because the people who made it had omitted some pieces, and it never -could be got out. - -"Try it a few days longer," Fred said, "and then, if you want me to, -I'll write to the people who manufactured it and ask them about it. -Arthur Weston! I am going to stand by those girls in Hazelton until they -win out!" - -"When they do, their work will stop," he prophesied, mildly. "The -factory hasn't paid a dividend for three years, and if wages go up, it -will shut up. I happen to know how they stand." - -"Laura's back," Fred said, abruptly; "they got home yesterday. I asked -her if she'd walk in the parade, and she said, 'Howard wouldn't like -it!' That sort of thing makes me tired." - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - - -The invitation to walk in the parade had not been given easily. Fred had -forced herself to ask Laura, for very shame at the ache of resentment -which neither reason, nor her old habit of affection for her cousin, -could conquer. Laura's refusal gave her a sort of angry satisfaction. -"_Of course!_ What could you expect? She's a sweet little thing, but she -has no mind to speak of. Poor Howard! She must bore him to death." As -for Howard's not liking parades,--well, that was queer. He never had -quite realized their value; probably because he hadn't really thought -about them. She would talk it over with him sometime, and make him -understand. She was not in the least annoyed with Howard, but it was all -she could do to hide her contempt for Laura; "Why _do_ women grovel so -before men? It makes me perfectly sick!" Even when Laura, with the old, -puppy-like devotion, offered, one morning, to go with her to Hazelton -where Fred was to address the strikers, it was not easy to be cordial. - -"I'll tag around after you, and clap," Laura said. - -"Howard willing?" Fred said, sarcastically. - -Laura laughed: "I haven't asked him. He's in Cincinnati. Won't be home -until this afternoon." - -"I suppose you wouldn't go if he wasn't?" - -"I suppose I wouldn't," Laura said, simply. - -Fred's lip drooped. But she only said, good-naturedly, "Come along!" -They went to Hazelton by trolley, Fred having vetoed Laura's limousine: -"It's too much 'Lady Bountiful.' Your gasolene for a week would pay a -girl's board for a month." - -In the long ride, spinning and jouncing through the countryside until -they reached the squalid outskirts of the little town, Frederica -listened to Laura's talk of Europe--and Howard. Of Paris frocks--and -Howard. Of the voyage home--and Howard. - -"I won't be horrid, I _won't_! I love her just exactly the same--" Fred -was saying to herself, staring out of the window at the flying -landscape, at the woods where the leafless trees were showing the haze -of swelling buds, at the snow, melting in the frozen furrows. "Yes...." -"No...." "Really?" she would say, when sometimes Laura's chatter paused. -("Oh, how bored Howard must be by this sort of thing!" she thought. She -couldn't help remembering how differently she had talked to Howard--the -big things, the real things! "Poor old Howard!") Once there was quite a -long pause, and Fred stopped watching the racing landscape and looked at -Laura. It was then that Laura softly told her a piece of news: - -"Of course, Howard's awfully pleased. He wants a girl, but I want a -boy." - -Frederica was silent for a moment: then, very gentle and tender, "I'm -awfully glad," she said, and squeezed Laura's hand. - -Then the chatter began again, and Fred looked out of the window at the -snow melting on slopes that faced the sun. - -The hall in Hazelton where the strikers were awaiting Frederica was -terribly hot and stuffy, and packed with women crowding so closely about -the melon-shaped iron stove that the air was stifling with the smell of -scorching clothes. It occurred to Laura, opening a window -surreptitiously, that the girls were here as much for the sake of the -glowing stove as for the chance to hear Fred. She watched her cousin -with shrinking admiration. What she said did not particularly interest -her, but Frederica's intimacy with the girls made her wonder. "She -_touches_ them!" Laura thought, with a quiver of disgust. - -When Fred had made her speech--which Laura vociferously applauded--they -all trooped out into the street, but paused while Frederica (Laura -skulking behind her) stood in the doorway for a further harangue. -Unfortunately--because the knot of listening girls obstructed the -sidewalk--a police officer, shoving them out of the way, happened to -show some rudeness to a little Italian, who, in return, jabbering -shrilly, struck at the man's patient and restraining arm, which caused -him to gather her two delicate wrists in one big, vise-like hand, and -hold her, a little, kicking, struggling creature, who made about as much -impression on his large blue bulk as a sparrow might make upon a -locomotive. - -"There, now, keep quiet, sissy," he said, wearily. - -But Catalina kicked harder than ever, and the officer shook her, gently. -It was at that moment that Fred's eye fell upon him. - -"I'll stop that!" she said, between shut teeth. - -"Oh, Fred, don't do anything," Laura entreated,--but Fred was at the -man's side. - -Her anger disconcerted him. "It's against the law to obstruct the -sidewalk," he explained. - -"I had no hand in making the law, and therefore I shall not obey it!" - -"Better can that talk, and keep it for the Court," said the man, -beginning to get red in the face. To which Frederica retorted by telling -him her opinion of men in general and policemen in particular. - -A man can stand kicks from little feet, but "lip"--after a certain point -of forbearance has been reached, is another matter. Fred punctuated her -remonstrances by putting an abrupt hand on his arm, and instantly there -was an unseemly scuffle, in which Laura, running out from the shelter of -the doorway, tried to draw Fred away. The result was that before they -really knew what had happened, the little Italian, Miss Frederica -Payton, and Mrs. Howard Maitland found themselves in a patrol-wagon -rumbling and jouncing along over the icy Belgian blocks, a taciturn man -in a blue coat sitting in the doorway of the van to prevent any possible -leap to liberty. - -The whole thing was so sudden that the cousins were perfectly -bewildered. Even as they were being hustled into the wagon, a crowd had -gathered, springing up, apparently, out of the ground. There had been a -sea of faces--good natured, amused, unconcerned faces; a medley of -voices, jeering and hooting, or raucously sympathetic; a vision of the -striking girls--for whose cause they were there!--forsaking them, -melting away, fleeing around corners and up side-streets; then, the -jolting along through the noon emptiness of the streets, toward the -station-house. - -Frederica, getting her breath, after the suddenness of it all, grew very -much excited. She scented the fray--the contest between man-made laws -and unconsulted woman! It occurred to her--though Laura said, in -despairing tones, "Oh, Fred, _please_ don't"--to fling some suffrage -literature into the street over the head of the officer; she did it -until he told her to "set still, you!" At which Catalina, hearing her -defender reproved, kicked him, causing him to turn around and grab her -ankle; he held it in one great paw, and whistled, absently. - -Fred was furious. "Don't touch that girl's ankle!" she said. - -"Shut up," he replied, calmly; and, oblivious of both of them, still -holding Catalina's little kicking feet, he began to talk over his -shoulder to the driver of the van about the price of cucumbers. "Here, -you!" he interrupted himself--"stop biting, sissy! Gee! this chippy has -teeth--" and he poked Catalina, playfully, with his club. Frederica -whitened with rage, but Catalina lapsed suddenly into such abject fright -that when they reached their destination she had to be lifted out of the -wagon, and pushed--not too gently--up the steps into the station-house. -Laura, who got out next, was shaking so that the officer put a friendly -hand under her elbow to assist her. Frederica followed the other two, -her head high with anger and interest. - -In the station-house, the receiving-room, with its one dirt-incrusted -window, was dark, even at one o'clock--perhaps because, shoulder-high on -the long-unwashed paint, was a dado of grime left by innumerable -cringing backs. There was one back against it now; a drunken man, with -wabbling head and glassy, half-shut eyes, was whining and sobbing, and -trying to keep on his legs. When the sergeant asked his name, he -answered by a hiccough which the officer, as indifferent and efficient -as a cog in some slowly revolving and crushing wheel, translated into -"Thomas Coney." "Come, stop crying; be a perfect gentleman, Tommy, be a -perfect gentleman!" he said, yawning. And, curiously enough, Tommy -straightened up and swallowed his sobs. - -"Look at him!" Fred whispered to Laura; "he's getting hold of himself! I -suppose that's his idea of a perfect gentleman." - -Laura, rigid with misery, made no answer. When Thomas had been disposed -of--watched by Frederica's intent eyes--she and Laura, whose knees were -plainly shaking, and Catalina, who was sobbing and calling upon God, -lined up in front of the sergeant's desk. Frederica answered the usual -questions with brief directness; her attitude toward the big, bored -officer was distinctly friendly and confidential; as he closed the -blotter, she began to tell him that she had been urging the girls to -demand the bal-- Before she could finish the word, she found herself, to -her angry amazement, being moved along toward the corridor. - -"But--stop! I have not finished. And I want to telephone, and--" - -"What number?" - -Both girls spoke at once, Frederica giving Mr. Weston's number, and -Laura, stammering with apprehension that Howard might not go directly -home from the train, naming her own house. "Ask Mr. Weston to hunt -Howard up," she implored her cousin. The telephoning was fruitless, as -neither gentleman could be found. - -"You can try 'em again over at the House of Detention," the man said, -not unkindly. "Move on! Move on!" - -They moved on, in spite of themselves, assisted by the impersonal -pressure of an officer's hand on Fred's shoulder--Laura shivering all -over, Fred's face red with displeasure at the affront of not being -listened to, Catalina perfectly happy and inclined to giggle. - -"You'll make Mr. Weston find Howard?" Laura said, in a frantic whisper, -as they walked across the courtyard to the little jail back of the -station-house. "Oh, I was going to meet him,--and I am _here_!" - -Fred shrugged her shoulders: "Why did you come, if you mind it so? -(Married women are awfully poor sports," she thought.) - -"Do you think I'd funk and leave you?" Laura retorted; and Fred's face -softened. - -"Howard will be so upset--" Laura said, quivering. - -"Nonsense! He'll see the fun of it," Fred assured her. In matters of -this kind, she understood Howard better than little Lolly ever could.... - -Her face was glowing with excitement! This meant something to the Cause! -An old phrase ran through her mind, "The blood of the martyrs is the -seed,"--"I tell you what, Laura," she said, under her breath, "this -ridiculous business is the seed of a big thing; it has given me a great -idea: _let women refuse to obey the laws, until they are allowed to make -them!_" - -"This way," said the officer, and herded them into the receiving-room of -the House of Detention. The next few minutes stung even Fred's -aplomb--they were searched! The indignity of hands passing down her -figure--hands not rough, not unkind, not insulting, merely -mechanical,--made her unreasonably, but quite furiously, angry. Laura -was a little shocked, but her dignity was simple and unshaken. Catalina, -her dirty, streaky face puffed with crying, laughed loudly with -amusement. - -"This is abominable!" Fred said, her voice shaking. The matron, making -notes on a pad, paid no attention to the protest. It was all in the -day's work--human wreckage washed up out of the gutter, rose in this -bleak, stone-lined room every day; rose, flooded into the surrounding -cells, where it vociferated, wept, pleaded, stood rigid with fury and -shame, or else collapsed into sodden slumber. Then, by and by, it ebbed -away. And the next day, and the next, the same drift and ruin of -humanity flooded in and drifted out. - -After further telephoning had been promised by the matron, the three -girls were placed in a cell. Catalina at once flung herself full length -on the bench that ran along two sides of it; Fred sat down and took out -her note-book. "I mustn't forget one incident," she told herself. The -experience had penetrated below the theatrical consciousness of -martyrdom, and roused a primitive anger, not for herself, or the other -two (of whom, to tell the truth, she thought very little), but against -the wastefulness of a system which permitted this wreckage to sweep in -and sweep out--unchecked, unchanged, over and over. She saw, as she had -never seen before, the righteousness of woman's demand that she should -have a hand in the making and the administering of Law. She was -impressed, not so much by the injustice of leaving the punishment of -women to men, as by the irrationality of it. - -"There ought to have been a woman in that station-house," she said; "and -there ought to be women police officers and judges. Just wait till we -get the vote, Laura--_we'll_ stop this idiocy! That's what it is: -idiocy, not justice." - -Laura was not concerned about terms; she stood, tense and trembling, -gripping the iron bars of the door. "Howard will be so upset, and Father -will be dreadfully angry!" - -"Oh, yes," Fred agreed, carelessly, "Uncle William will have a fit, of -course. But I'll bet on Howard! Mother will almost die of it, I'm -afraid," she said, her face sobering; "I'm sorry about that. But, of -course, Laura, that's the penalty of progress. We--you and I and -Howard--are moving the world, and the old people have got to get out of -the way or get run over!" - -Laura was silent. - -"The thing that hits me hardest," said Frederica, "is the way women -won't stand together. Every one of those girls took to their heels." - -"Oh, _when_ will Howard come?" said Laura, with a sobbing breath. She -was not sorry she had stood by Fred when all the rest of them "took to -their heels," only--"I'll die if he doesn't come soon!" she thought, -shaking very much. Once she glanced over her shoulder at Frederica, who -was straining her eyes (the cell was lighted only from the hall) over -her note-book, and she felt a faint thrill of admiration. Imagine, -making notes at such a moment! - -The afternoon passed; hours--hours--hours. - -"Oh, when will somebody come?" Laura said, in a whisper. Frederica had -put up her note-book, and seemed absorbed in thought. Catalina was -asleep. - -There came a sound of voices in the outer court, and again Laura -clutched at the iron bars. (She had been at the grating ever since the -lock was turned upon them.) - -"It's Howard!" - -Even Fred was moved to stand up and peer out into the whitewashed -corridor--then both girls shrank back; a drunken negress was being -pulled along over the flagstones of the passage to the receiving-room; a -few minutes later, she was pulled back again, and they heard the clang -of a cell door; then yells, then evidently sickness; then cries upon God -and the devil, and a torrent of unspeakably vile invective. Even Fred -quailed before it, and Laura clung to her in such a paroxysm of fear -that they neither of them heard the hurrying feet outside on the -flagging--then the lock was flung out, and Howard caught his wife in his -arms. - -"I just got word," he said, hoarsely; "Weston caught me at the club. My -darling!" - -The tears were in his eyes and his face was as white as Laura's. Behind -him, Arthur Weston looked grimly over his head at Frederica. - -"I had to chase him all around town," he said, "or we'd have been here -before. And it's taken time to bail you out." - -"I'm sorry to have bothered you," Fred said; "but it's been an awfully -valuable experience to Laura and me. _I_ wouldn't have missed it for -anything!" - -The matron, faintly interested, was standing by to see the end of it. -"Them swells will learn something," she whispered, to her assistant; "I -guess that thin one ain't bad. I thought she was. Well, good-by, ma'am," -she said, listlessly; and went back to work on a piece of dingy -embroidery until the next dumping of human rubbish should claim her -attention. - -Out in the courtyard Frederica made a little delay. Where was Catalina -to go? What was she to do? "Out on bail? Does that mean she's got to -come back here again?" - -"It means that she's got to report at the municipal criminal court," Mr. -Weston instructed her; "and so have you and Laura, unless I can patch -things up." - -"Good!" Fred said, eagerly, "I wanted to know the end of this silly -business!" - -She got into the limousine, where Laura, still very white, had been -placed by Howard, who put an unabashed arm about her. His impatience at -Fred's delay was obvious. - -"Mr. Weston! for the Lord's sake, shut her up!" he said, angrily. - -Frederica, sitting down beside him, gave him an astonished look. "It -was I who was talking, not Catalina," she explained; "I was telling her -what to do. Of course I couldn't go away and leave her to shift for -herself. Howard, this has been a great experience!" - -Howard's jaw set: "Laura, dear," he whispered, "it's all right. Don't -shake so, Kitty! It's all right. Mr. Weston will fix it up so you -needn't go to court." - -"You see," Fred began, volubly, "it all happened because of the -policeman's rudeness to that poor little Catalina; Laura and I had to -protect her, and--" - -"Look here"--Howard turned a fierce face upon her--"you can make a fool -of yourself, all you want to, but I'll thank you not to drag my wife -into your damned nonsense!" - -Frederica stared at him, open-mouthed. - -"Maitland," the other man said, gravely, "I am sure you will apologize -for that." - -Howard's hand clenched over his little Laura's; he swallowed, and set -his teeth. "If I have been rude, I apologize. But the fact remains; Fred -ought not to have dragged Laura into any such disgusting and indecent -business!" - -"Oh, Howard!" Laura protested; "she didn't. I did it myself. It wasn't -Fred's fault." - -Frederica was silent, but Weston saw her face fall into lines of haggard -amazement. As they went spinning along back to town, Howard gave himself -up to whispering to Laura. Arthur Weston asked one or two questions, and -Frederica told him, briefly, just what had caused the disturbance that -ended in the "interesting experience." For the most part no one spoke. - -At the Maitland house, Howard almost lifted his little wife out of the -car; he was quivering with pain at her pain--at the thought that her -ears had heard the moans of Life, that her eyes had seen its filth and -horror; he was so angry at Frederica that he could not trust himself -even to look at her. Of course he made no farewells. He closed the door -of the limousine with a bang, and said, through the open window: - -"Mr. Weston, do anything, _any_thing! so that Laura won't be dragged -into it. Any amount of money, of course! And the newspapers--good Lord! -Can we fix them?" - -"I'll see what can be done," Weston said; and the car spun away. - -Frederica turned a bewildered face upon him. She stammered a little: - -"He didn't"--her voice fell to an astonished whisper--"_understand_." - -They scarcely spoke until they reached the Payton house; it was dusk -when they went up the steps together and rung the front-door bell. ("I -am coming in to explain things to your mother," he said, quietly.) But -as they stood waiting for the door to be opened, Frederica, looking at -him with miserable eyes, made a gesture of finality. - -"_I never knew him_," she said. - -As they heard the feet of the parlor-maid coming through the hall, she -gripped his arm with her trembling hand: - -"Arthur," she said, in a whisper; "just think! I asked--I asked him to -marry me. And this is what he is!" - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - - -The whole connection seethed! The notoriety of Flora's death was nothing -compared with this notoriety. The police court! The newspapers! The -gossip of Mrs. Childs's Bridge Club! And, on top of everything else, the -shock to Laura. - -"You see," Mrs. Payton explained to her daughter, "she's going to have a -baby, and--" - -"I know," Fred said, soberly; "she told me. Of course I wouldn't have -let her go, if I'd known there was going to be rough-house." - -"It's absurd to blame you," her mother said. "As I told your Aunt -Bessie, 'It's absurd to blame Freddy!'" - -"I don't mind being blamed. I oughtn't to have taken her, anyhow. She -doesn't really care for the things I care for. She's entirely under -Howard's thumb, poor dear!" - -Mr. William Childs was almost sick with anger, and Mrs. Childs, with her -calm interest in other people's troubles, agreed with Miss Mary Graham, -who said that, of course, Miss Freddy meant well; but sometimes the -brain defect didn't show at once, as it did in her brother. "It comes on -when they are about twenty-five," said Miss Mary. - -Mrs. Childs said that was the most charitable way to look at it, -and--amiably ready to tell anything to anybody--repeated the charitable -opinion to Mrs. Payton. - -"What did the older one say?" Fred's mother asked, distractedly. - -Mrs. Childs hesitated: "Nothing very sensible; indeed, I don't know just -what she meant. Something out of the Bible--that they said Christ had a -devil, too. Quite profane, I thought." - -"Fred isn't a devil!" Mrs. Payton said, angrily, her maternal claws -ready to scratch the "older one," whose protection of Frederica was -understood only by Arthur Weston, who loved her for it, but warned her -that unless Bacon was the author of the phrase she had quoted it would -not soothe the Childs family. - -Certainly it did not soothe Bobby and Payton, who told their respective -wives that Freddy ought to be shut up! "Allendale is the place for her," -Bob said, mentioning a well-known insane-asylum. They told their -brother-in-law that Laura ought to be ashamed of herself--which led to -an in-law coolness that never quite thawed out. - -"Of course I don't approve of it any more than you do," Howard said. "If -I'd been at home, Laura wouldn't have gone with Fred. Trouble is, she's -so sweet-tempered she does whatever anybody wants--and Fred insisted, -you know. And when Laura was there she felt she had to stand by Fred--" - -"Stand by your grandmother!" Payton Childs retorted. "If Fred was my -sister, I'd stand by her--with a whip!" - -"Well, there'll be no more speechifying in _ours_," Howard said, grimly. -"But I won't have Laura blamed. What she did, she did out of loyalty to -Fred. When it comes to standing by, Laura is as decent as a man!" - -Miss Spencer was of the opinion that Mrs. Payton had better take the -girl to Europe--"under another name, perhaps; then she can't disgrace -you. After all, Ellen, I believe she's just like Mortimore--only she -doesn't jibber!" - -"_Miss Spencer!_" - -"I mean that though she has intellect, she--" - -"Morty has intellect! Doctor Davis always said the intellect was there, -but it was veiled!" - -"Fred had better veil something," Miss Spencer said, dryly. "Her face, -for instance, when she goes to jail." - -"It wasn't a jail," Mrs. Payton protested, whimperingly. - -Mrs. Holmes had her opinion, too; all Fred's didos, she said, were due -to the fact that Mrs. Payton had not brought her up properly. She said -this just as she was leaving the parlor, teetering along on her -high-heeled shoes; then her voice suddenly roughened; she turned and -glared at her daughter through her white veil. - -"The amount of it is," she said, "Fred is worth all the rest of us put -together! _That's_ why we are so provoked at her. We know we're on the -shelf, and useless old fools, every one of us! Especially William -Childs." - -Mrs. Payton was so astounded that she let her mother go out to her -carriage unattended. But the words were a comfort to her, for, poor -woman, she was struck from every side. - -As for Fred, she listened listlessly to the jangle of criticism, -looking at her critics with curious eyes. How silly they all were! So -long as the experience of being arrested had not injured Laura, what -difference did it make? With her conception of the values of life, the -momentary unpleasantness of newspaper notoriety was not worth thinking -of. Fred was very listless now. Something had touched the garment of -life, and energy and hope had gone out of it. - -She ceased to be young. - -The rebuff of unaccepted love she had faced gallantly; its accompanying -knowledge of shame and pity and sympathy, had only steadied her; even -her own irrationality in disliking Laura (she had recognized with -chagrin that dislike was irrational, and she hated, she told herself, to -be an idiot!)--all these emotional experiences had merely deepened and -humanized her. But the discovery that the Howard Maitland she thought -she knew, had never lived, was a staggering blow. The other Howard--the -real Howard--honest, sweet-hearted, simple, who had found her -conversation no end amusing and interesting, who had been a patient -receptacle for her opinions and an amiable echo of her volubility, who -had swallowed many yawns out of kindness as well as courtesy--the Howard -beneath whose charm of good manners lurked the primitive fierceness of -the male who protects his woman at any cost, _that_ Howard had never -made the slightest appeal to her. The jar of stepping down from the -ideal man to the real man racked her, body and soul. The old pain of not -being loved had ceased as suddenly as a pulled tooth ceases to ache. The -new pain was only a sense of nothingness. But, curiously enough, it was -then that the old affection for Laura began to flow back. "Not that I -get much out of her," she thought, dully; "dear little Lolly! She hasn't -an idea beyond--him. She's a perfect slave to him. Well! I'm glad I'm a -free woman! But she's a dear little thing." The soreness had all gone; -she loved Lolly again--as one loves a kitten. She used to go to see her, -and look at the baby clothes, and speculate as to whether it would be a -girl or a boy. The softness, and silliness, and sweetness of it all was -to her tired mind what cushions are to a tired body. - -When the baby was born, early in September, the last barrier between the -cousins was swept away--but Fred still made a point of not going to -Laura's house at an hour when she was likely to find Howard at home. -Laura's husband was an entire stranger to her. When, by accident, she -did meet him, she used to say to herself, wonderingly, "How _could_ -I--?" - - -All summer Frederica went regularly to her office. "But business isn't -what you'd call booming," she told Arthur Weston. In the blind fumbling -about of her stunned mind to discover a reality, he was the one person -to whom she turned. His calls at 15 Payton Street, whenever Fred was in -town, stirred even Mrs. Payton to speculation--although it was Miss -Carter who put the idea into her head: - -"He always comes when Miss Freddy is here; _I_ think he's taken with -her." - -"I wish I could think so! There is nothing I should like better," said -Mrs. Payton, sighing. But the mere hope of such a thing roused her to -ask Mr. Weston to dinner whenever she knew that Fred was coming home for -the night. Miss Graham, getting wind of those dinners, gave him, one -day, a cousinly thrust in the ribs: - -"Tortoise! I do really believe you have some sense, after all!" - -"I have sense enough to know that the race is off for the tortoise, when -the hare decides not to run," he said, dryly; "but that's no reason why -I shouldn't dine with Mrs. Payton." - -Miss Eliza was spending the summer at The Laurels, and she had Freddy on -her mind. She went over to Lakeville to see her several times, and -always, with elaborate carelessness, said something in Arthur Weston's -favor. But she had to admit that Fred was blind to the pursuit of the -faithful tortoise. - -"I love the child," she told her sister; "but, I declare, I could spank -her! Just think what a husband dear Arthur would make!" - -"What kind of a wife would she make?" Miss Mary retorted. "I don't think -she would insure any man's happiness." - -"The pitiful thing about her is that she has aged so," said Miss Graham. - -That sense of lost youth touched her so much that she was quite out of -patience with dear Arthur. "Haven't you any heart?" she scolded. "The -girl is unhappy! Carry her off, and make her happy." - -"I'm too old to turn kidnapper," he defended himself. - -"She is brooding over something," Miss Eliza said; "it _can't_ be -because that foolish young man took her cousin when he could have got -her? She has too much backbone for that!" - -Mr. Weston agreed that Fred was not lacking backbone, but he could not -deny the brooding. So it came about that the dear old matchmaker was -moved, one day, to go to Sunrise Cottage and put her finger in the pie. -After she had drunk a cup of tea, and listened for half an hour to -Fred's ideas as to how Laura should bring up the baby, and the "slavery -of mothers"--"Lolly hasn't time to read a line!" Fred said;--Miss Eliza -suddenly touched her on the shoulder: - -"My dear," she said, "you've got to live, whether you like it or not. -Make the best of it!" - -Fred gave a gasp of astonishment; then she said, in a low voice, "How -did you know I didn't like living?" - -"Because when I didn't, I was just as careless about my back hair as you -are." - -Involuntarily Fred put her hand up to her head. "Is it untidy?" - -"It's indifferent. And when you think how fond Arthur is of you, it's -very selfish in you not to look as pretty as you can." - -She went away greatly pleased with herself. "It will touch her vanity to -think he likes her to look pretty; and when a girl tries to look pretty -for a man, the next step is to fall in love with him." - -Alas! Fred's vanity was not in the slightest degree flattered. But her -pride had felt the roweling of the spur of Truth. She must brace -up--because she had got to live! The words were like a trumpet. "I've -got to live--_whether I like it or not_. I must get action on -something," she told herself, grimly. - -That night she sat down on the little stool in front of her fire, and -stared a long time into the flames. Yes, she must get busy. "I've been a -pig. I've had a grouch on, just because I didn't get a stick of candy -when I wanted it--and wouldn't I have been sick of my candy by this -time, if I'd got it! How _can_ Lolly stand him? What a fool I was."... -Yes, she must "get busy"; why not try and do something for those poor, -wretched women who are sent to the House of Detention? What she had seen -and heard in that stone-lined room had left a scar upon her mind. "I'll -make Arthur tell me how to get at them," she thought. Suddenly she -remembered Miss Eliza's thrust: "It's selfish in you--when he's so fond -of you." - -She gave a little start: "Oh, but that's impossible! That sort of thing -is over for him. But he's my best friend," she told herself. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI - - -It was late in September, when she asked Arthur Weston to tell her how -she could help "those awful women,"--as she called the poor creatures -she had seen in jail. He had motored out to Lakeville for a cup of tea, -and while they waited for the kettle to boil, they wandered off along -the shore of the lake, and found a little inlet walled with willows, -where they could sit on the beach and see nothing but the wrinkling -flash of waves and a serene stretch of sky. They sat there, talking -idly, and watching the willow leaves turn all their silvery backs to a -hesitating breeze. - -Weston listened silently to her plans for "getting busy" with prison -reform--when she suddenly broke off: - -"I don't see that the vote will do much." - -He gave her an astonished look. "What! This from _you_?" - -She nodded. "Of course I'm for suffrage, first, last, and all the time! -But I'm sort of discouraged about what we can accomplish. Life is so -big." The old cocksureness was gone. The pathos of common sense in -Freddy made him wince. "But I've got to do something," she ended. "Miss -Eliza told me I was selfish." - -"Look here! I won't let Cousin Eliza call you names! I reserve that for -myself." - -She laughed. "You've done it, often enough." - -Arthur Weston tickled the sleeping Zip and whistled. - -"What do you suppose Laura told me the other day?" Fred said. "She said -that 'no woman really knew what life meant unless she had a baby.' She -said having a baby was like coming out of prison--because 'self' is a -prison. Rather tall talk for little Laura, wasn't it?" - -"Any of the great human experiences are keys to our prison-house," he -said. - -"True enough," she agreed; then, abruptly, her own great experience -spoke: "Isn't it queer? I rather dislike Howard." - -"It's unreasonable. He's the same old Howard--a mighty decent chap." - -"He's not--what I supposed he was." - -"Well, that's your fault, not his. You dressed him up in your ideas; -when he got into his own clothes, you didn't like him. Howard never -pretended to be anything he wasn't." - -"Yes! Yes, he did!" she said, with sudden agitation. "He used to--listen -to me." - -"Good heavens, don't hold that up against him! Don't I listen to you?" - -"Oh, but you never let me think you agree with me! I always know you -don't." - -"He agrees far more than I do." - -"No," she said, with a somber look. "He just let me talk. He didn't -care. The things that were real to me weren't real to him. His real -things were--what's happening now. The baby, and Laura. Is it so with -all of you? Don't you ever care with your _minds_?" - -He stopped tickling Zip, and looked out over the lake with narrowing -eyes; after a while he said, gently: - -"I think the caring with the mind comes second. When a man falls in -love, the mind has nothing to do with it. Sometimes it reinforces the -heart, so to speak; when that happens, you have the perfect -marriage--which isn't awfully common. It's apt to be just the heart; -which gets pretty dull after a while. But just the head is arid." - -"He would have found just my head,--arid?" she pondered. - -He looked straight at her, and said, quietly: "I think he would." - -There was a long pause. - -"Was it head, or heart, with you?" she said. - -"It's both," he said. - -She gave him a puzzled look: "Why, you don't mean that you care for that -horrid Kate, still?" - -He smiled, and looked off over the water. - -"You are very stupid, Fred." - -She was plainly perplexed. "I don't understand?" - -"That's why I say you are stupid." - -His face was turned away from her; he was breaking a dead twig into -inch-long pieces, and carefully arranging them in a precise fagot on his -knee; she saw, with a little shock of surprise, that his fingers were -trembling. - -"Why, Arthur!" she began,--and stopped short, the color rising slowly to -her forehead. He gave her a quick look. - -"Why!" she said again, faintly, "you don't mean--? you're not--?" - -He laughed, opening his hands in a gesture of amused and hopeless -assent. "I am," he said, and flung the tiny fagot out on the water. - -Fred dropped her chin on her fists and watched the twigs dancing off -over the waves. They were both silent; then she said, frowning, and -pausing a little between her words as if trying to take in their full -meaning:--"You are in love with me." - -"Has it just struck you?" - -"How could it strike me--that you would care for a girl like me!" - -"Considering your intelligence, you are astonishingly obtuse, at times. -I couldn't care for any other kind of girl. Or for any girl, except -you!" - -"Miss Eliza said something that made me wonder if.... But I couldn't -believe it. I thought that sort of thing was over for you. I never -dreamed of--" - -"Oh, well! don't dream of it now. Of course it doesn't make a particle -of difference. I didn't mean to speak of it; it sort of broke loose," he -ended, in rueful confession. - -Fred was silent. - -Arthur Weston, hiding the tremor that was tingling all through him, -began to talk easily, of anything--Zip, the weather, whether Miss Carter -could be induced to reconsider her annual resignation; "It would be very -hard on Mrs. Payton to lose her," he said. - -"Well," Frederica said, slowly, "I don't see any reason why I shouldn't -marry you." - -He caught his breath; then struck his hand on hers. - -"You're a good sport! I take back my accusation that you weren't. I -could name several reasons why you shouldn't marry me." - -"Name them." - -"Fred, look here; this is a serious business with me. I can't talk about -it." - -"I want to talk about it. I'd like to know your reasons." - -"To begin with--age." - -She nodded. "In years you are older. But I'm not young any more." - -The water stung in his eyes; she was right--she was not "young" now. -"The next reason," he went on, without looking at her, "is that you are -not in love with me." - -She thought that over: "But I am fond of you." - -"That won't do for marriage." - -"It's more than just fondness with you?" she asked, doubtfully. - -He caught her hand, kissed it, and flung it from him. "Come!" he said, -harshly, "let's go home!" He rose, but she did not move. - -"Do you _love_ me?" she insisted, looking up at him. - -He was silent. When he spoke his voice was rough with suffering. "I love -you as much ... as I can. But it's not worth the taking. I know that. I -wouldn't ask you to take it. You ought to have--fire and gold! I spent -my gold ten years ago; and the fire burned itself out. Don't talk about -it. I feel like lead, sometimes, compared with you. But I'm not -adamant." - -She got on her feet, and stood looking out over the lake. For a long -while neither of them spoke. Then she said: "Arthur, I'm not in love -with anybody else. I can't imagine, now, how I ever thought I was!" - -"You will be in love with somebody else one of these days." - -She shook her head. "No; that's all over. There is no fire and gold in -me, either. Something--was killed, I think." - -"It will come to life." - -She gave a little gasp: "No. It's dead. But what is left is--well, it -isn't bad, what's left. Sometimes," she said, with sudden sweet gaiety, -"sometimes I think it's better than what Howard and Laura have!" - -"No, it isn't," he said, sadly. - -"I wonder," she pondered, "if I could have been ... like Laura? She -hasn't a thought except for the baby and Howard. They are the center of -Life to her;--which is all right, I suppose. But they are its -circumference, too; which seems to me dreadfully cramping. I never could -be like that." - -He smiled, in spite of himself. "Nature is a pretty big thing, Fred; -when you hold your own child in your arms--" he stopped short. "Life is -bigger than theories," he said, in a low voice. - -She nodded: "I know what you mean. But I never could be a fool, Arthur." - -"I think," he said, and again something in his voice made her catch her -breath; "I _think_ you could be,--at moments." - -"Better not count on it," she said; "but if you want me, in spite of my -'arid' head,--you can take me! Of course, just for a minute, when I -wrung it from you that you--cared, I was rather stunned, because I -didn't believe Miss Eliza knew. But on the whole, I think--I'd like it." -She smiled at him, and her eyes brimmed with affection. "You see, we're -friends; and you never bore me. Howard would have bored me awfully. -So--I will marry you, Arthur." - -He was silent. "Rather hard," she said, mischievously, "to have to offer -myself tw--" - -"Stop!" he said; "don't say things like that!" - -"Well, then--" she began; but he lifted a silencing hand: - -"My dear, my dear, I love you too much to marry you." - -"Why, then," she said, simply, "you love me, it seems to me, enough to -marry me. Don't you see?" - -He looked at her with hungry eyes. "I think I am man enough to save you -from myself," he said; "but don't--don't tempt me too far!"... - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII - - -That was in September. It was the first of December when Howard Maitland -came leaping up-stairs, two steps at a time, and burst into the nursery, -so chock-full of news that he could hardly wait to see the way Betty's -toes would grip your finger if you put it on the sole of her pink foot. - -"Who _do_ you suppose is engaged?" - -"Jack McKnight," Laura said; "Howard, kiss her little neck, right under -her ear." - -He kissed it, and said, "No! Not McKnight. You wouldn't guess in a -hundred years!" - -"Well, then, you'd better tell me. See, Father, she's smiling! Howard, I -think she's really a very distinguished-looking baby; don't you?" - -"She looks like her ma, so of course she is!" - -"Nonsense! She's the image of you. What do you think? When I went down -to luncheon, Sarah says she turned her head right around to watch me go -out of the room." - -"Gosh! She'll be reading Browning next! Laura--why don't you rise about -the engagement? You'll scream when I tell you." - -"Well, tell me." - -"Fred Payton and--" - -"What!" - -"Hold on. I've not begun to holler yet. _And_--old Weston." - -"_What!_" - -"I thought you'd sit up." - -"Howard! I don't believe it." - -"It's true. I met Mrs. Payton, and she told me. She kept me standing on -the corner for a quarter of an hour while she explained that she was -going to do up her Christmas presents now, so she could get the house in -order for the wedding. It's to be in January. The engagement comes out -to-morrow. It's been cooking since September, but they didn't really tie -up until last week. I'm pledged to secrecy, but your Aunt Nelly said I -could tell you." - -"I never was so astonished in my life!" Laura gasped. - -"I was--surprised, myself," Howard said. - -"Well," said Laura, "I'm glad poor old Fred is going to be married--but -how _can_ she! Of course I know he's been gone on her for ages; but I -don't see how he dared to propose to her--he's old enough to be her -father! Maybe she took pity on him and proposed to him," Laura declared, -giggling. - -"The baby has a double chin," her husband said, hurriedly. - -"Fred converted him to suffrage last summer," Laura said; "that showed -which way the wind was blowing." - -Howard stopped tickling his daughter's neck, and frowned, as if trying -to remember something. "Weston a suffragist? That's interesting! -Leighton--you remember?--the man who went to the Philippines with me?" - -Laura nodded abstractedly. - -"Well, he said that if a man was a suffragist it was because he was -either in the cradle or the grave. He said the man of affairs was bored -to extinction by the whole hullabaloo business. He considered me in the -cradle; so I suppose he'd say that Weston--" - -"Mr. Weston may be in the grave, but you're not in the cradle," Laura -interrupted, affronted; "you are the father of a family!" - -"Well, to be candid, I'm not crazy about suffrage," Howard confessed, -and was pummeled by his baby's fists, carefully directed by the maternal -hand. - -"I'm ashamed of you! Betty and I are going to walk in the parade, and -you shall carry a banner." - -"Thanks so much; I fear business will call me to Philadelphia that day. -Too bad!" - -"Freddy and Mr. Weston!" Laura repeated; "well, I _don't_ understand -it!" - -"Neither do I," said her husband. He walked over to the window and stood -with his hands in his pockets, looking out into the rain; behind him he -heard the nursery door open, and Laura's contented voice: - -"No, Sarah, I don't need you. I'm going to put her to bed myself. You go -down and have your supper. Just put her little nightie on the fender -before you go, so it will be nice and warm." Then the door closed again, -and he could hear Laura mumbling in the baby's neck: - -"Sweety! Mother loves! Put little hanny into the sleeve.... Oh, Howard, -look at her! Did you ever see anything so killing? Howard, just think! -Fred told me once that she was going to have a trained nurse for her -children. Well, she'll know better when she has 'em! -Ooo-oo--_sweety!_--don't pull mother's hair!" The firelit warmth, the -little night-gown scorching on the fender, Laura in the low chair, his -child's head on her breast--the young man, staring out into the rain and -darkness, felt something tighten in his throat. Life was so perfect! -There, behind him, by the hearth, in warm security, were his two -Treasures--to be cared for, and guarded, and made happy. He lived only -to stand between them and Fate. His very flesh and blood were theirs! "I -wouldn't let the wind blow on them!" he thought, fiercely. But Fred -Payton wouldn't let anybody stand between her and the gales of life. He -couldn't imagine Arthur Weston protecting Fred. Imagine any man trying -to take care of Fred! "She'd be taking care of him, the first thing he'd -know! Still, I take off my hat to her, every time. She's big." - -Down in the bottom of his heart was a queer uneasiness: he was not -"big," himself; "I am satisfied just to be happy; Fred wants something -more than that. She's more worth-while than I am," he thought, humbly. -He turned and looked at the two by the fire, then came over, and, -kneeling down, took his World into his arms. - -"Oh, _Laura_!" he said; he rested his head on his wife's shoulder, and -felt the baby's silky hair against his lips. "Laura, how perfect life -is! I'm so happy, I'm frightened!--and I don't deserve it. Fred Payton -is worth six of me." - -Laura gave a little squeal. "As if any girl was as good as you! -Besides, poor, dear Freddy--nobody appreciates her more than I do, but -Howard, you know perfectly well that she is--I mean she isn't--I mean, -well, _you_ know? Poor Fred, she's perfectly fine, but nobody except -somebody like Mr. Weston would want to marry her, because she is awfully -bossy. And a man doesn't like a bossy woman, now does he?" - -"You bet he doesn't!" Howard said. "But I take my hat off to Fred." - -"Oh, of course," said Laura. - - -"Thank God, she's got a man to keep her in order!" said Mr. William -Childs. - -"What shall we give her for a wedding-present?" Mrs. Childs ruminated. - -"Give Weston a switch!" said Billy-boy. - - -"I shall miss her terribly," said Mrs. Payton; "I don't know how I'm -going to get along without her." Her lip trembled and she looked at her -mother, who was running a furtive, white-gloved finger across Mr. Andrew -Payton's marble toga. "Oh, yes; it isn't dusted," Mrs. Payton sighed; -"you can't get servants to dust anything nowadays." - -"Fred will make 'em dust!" Mrs. Holmes said, with satisfaction. "All -Fred needs is to be married. Miss Eliza Graham told me that she had -gumption. I said _he_ had gumption, to get her!" - -"I wonder if he knows about her affair with Laura's husband," Miss -Spencer ruminated. "Some one ought to tell him, just out of kindness." -(And the very next day an anonymous letter did tell him, for which he -was duly grateful.) - - -"I _hope_ she will make you happy," Miss Mary Graham told her cousin, -sighing. - -"Well, Arthur will make her happy," Miss Eliza said, decidedly; "and -that's what he cares about! As for her making him happy, it will be his -own fault if she doesn't. She'll interest you, Arthur--that's what a man -like you wants." - -"I'm to be 'amused,' am I?" Arthur Weston said, grimly. "But suppose I -don't 'amuse' her?" And as the older sister went out to the door with -him to say good-by, he added: "Am I a thief? Of course, I've got the -best of the bargain." - -She did not contradict him. "I think," she said, her face full of pain -and pity, "that Fred has got the very best bargain that, being Fred, she -could possibly get." - -"No!" he said, "you're wrong! But pray God she never finds it out." - -He did not mean to let her find it out! - -But that afternoon when he went into No. 15 for his tea and for a chance -to look at Frederica, and tease her, and feel her frank arm over his -shoulder, he was very silent. - -They were in the sitting-room, Mrs. Payton having tactfully withdrawn to -the entry outside of Morty's room. "When I was a young lady," she told -Miss Carter, "I used to receive Mr. Payton in the back parlor, and Mama -always sat in the front parlor. But Mama was very old-fashioned--_I_ -believe in the new ideas! And then, after all, Mr. Weston is so much -older than Freddy--oh, dear me! What a blessing it was to have him fall -in love with her!" - -"Mother is going round," Fred told her lover, as she handed him his tea, -"saying, 'Now lettest thou thy servant ...!' She's so ecstatic over our -engagement." - -"I'm rather ecstatic myself," he said; "Fred--I am a highway robber." - -"Be still!" she said; and gave him another lump of sugar. - -"I love you," he said. "But you--no, it isn't fair; it isn't fair." - -She took his teacup from him and snuggled down beside him; "I'm -satisfied," she said. - -The sense of her content stabbed him. She ought to have so much more -than content. He had told her so often enough, in those two months of -standing out against his own heart; he told her so when, at last, he -yielded. But when he said it now, she would not listen. "I tell you, -_I'm_ satisfied!" She dropped her head on his shoulder, and hummed a -little to herself. - -How was a man to break through such content! - -"But I _will_!" he told himself. - - -THE END - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rising Tide, by Margaret Deland - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISING TIDE *** - -***** This file should be named 54910-8.txt or 54910-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/9/1/54910/ - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -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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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Rising Tide - -Author: Margaret Deland - -Illustrator: F. Walter Taylor - -Release Date: June 15, 2017 [EBook #54910] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISING TIDE *** - - - - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="mynote"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:<br /><br /> -A Table of Contents has been added.<br /></p></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><a name="cover.jpg" id="cover.jpg"></a><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><a name="frontis.jpg" id="frontis.jpg"></a><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="FREDERICA" /></div> - -<p class="bold">FREDERICA</p> - -<hr /> - -<h1>THE<br />RISING TIDE</h1> - -<p class="bold">BY</p> - -<p class="bold2"><span class="smcap">Margaret Deland</span></p> - -<p class="bold">AUTHOR OF<br /><i>The Iron Woman</i>, <i>Dr. Lavendar's People</i><br />ETC.</p> - -<p class="bold">ILLUSTRATED BY<br /><span class="smcap">F. Walter Taylor</span></p> - -<p class="bold">"<i>No doubt but ye are the people,<br />and wisdom shall die with you.</i>"<br />Job xii, 2</p> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/logo.jpg" alt="logo" /></div> - -<p class="bold space-above">HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS<br />NEW YORK AND LONDON</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="box"> -<h2>Books by<br />MARGARET DELAND</h2> - -<p>THE RISING TIDE. Illustrated. Post 8vo</p> - -<p>AROUND OLD CHESTER. Illustrated. Post 8vo</p> - -<p>THE HANDS OF ESAU. Illustrated. Post 8vo</p> - -<p>OLD CHESTER TALES. Illustrated. Post 8vo</p> - -<p>AN ENCORE. Illustrated. 8vo</p> - -<p>DR. LAVENDAR'S PEOPLE. Illustrated. Post 8vo</p> - -<p>GOOD FOR THE SOUL. 16mo</p> - -<p>THE AWAKENING OF HELENA RICHIE. Illustrated. Post 8vo</p> - -<p>PARTNERS. Illustrated. Crown 8vo</p> - -<p>R. J.'S MOTHER. Illustrated. Post 8vo</p> - -<p>THE COMMON WAY. 16mo</p> - -<p>THE IRON WOMAN. Illustrated. Post 8vo</p> - -<p>THE VOICE. Illustrated. Post 8vo</p> - -<p>THE WAY TO PEACE. Illustrated. 8vo</p> - -<p>WHERE THE LABORERS ARE FEW. Ill'd. 8vo</p> - -<hr class="smler" /> - -<p class="center">HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK</p> - -<p class="center space-above"><span class="smcap">The Rising Tide</span><br />—<br /> -Copyright, 1915, 1916, by Harper & Brothers<br /> -Printed in the United States of America<br />Published August, 1916<br /><br />H-Q</p></div> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center">TO<br />LORIN DELAND</p> - -<p class="center space-above">AUGUST 12, 1916</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2><span>CONTENTS</span></h2> - -<table summary="CONTENTS"> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td><span class="smaller">PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER I</td> - <td><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER II</td> - <td><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER III</td> - <td><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER IV</td> - <td><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER V</td> - <td><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER VI</td> - <td><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER VII</td> - <td><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER VIII</td> - <td><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER IX</td> - <td><a href="#Page_103">103</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER X</td> - <td><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XI</td> - <td><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XII</td> - <td><a href="#Page_135">135</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XIII</td> - <td><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XIV</td> - <td><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XV</td> - <td><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XVI</td> - <td><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XVII</td> - <td><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XVIII</td> - <td><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XIX</td> - <td><a href="#Page_209">209</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XX</td> - <td><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XXI</td> - <td><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XXII</td> - <td><a href="#Page_242">242</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XXIII</td> - <td><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XXIV</td> - <td><a href="#Page_259">259</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XXV</td> - <td><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XXVI</td> - <td><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">CHAPTER XXVII</td> - <td><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -<table summary="ILLUSTRATIONS"> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Frederica</span></td> - <td colspan="2"><a href="#frontis.jpg"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">"Let Me Explain It," Frederica's Man of Business<br /> -Said ... and Proceeded to Put the Project into<br />Words of Three Letters</span></td> - <td style="vertical-align: bottom"><i>Facing p.</i></td> - <td style="vertical-align: bottom"><a href="#i022.jpg"> 22</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">Howard Did Not Notice Her Preoccupation. He<br /> -was Pouring Out His Plans, Laura Punctuating<br />All He Said with Cries of Admiration and<br />Envy</span></td> - <td class="center" style="vertical-align: bottom">"</td> - <td style="vertical-align: bottom"><a href="#i108.jpg"> 108</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><span class="smcap">"Did You See That Fish Jump?" He Asked. Frederica<br />Gave a Disgusted Grunt</span></td> - <td class="center" style="vertical-align: bottom">"</td> - <td style="vertical-align: bottom"><a href="#i140.jpg"> 140</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p class="bold2">THE RISING TIDE</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">THE RISING TIDE</p> - -<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> - -<p>A single car-track ran through Payton Street, and over it, once in a -while, a small car jogged along, drawn by two mules. Thirty years ago -Payton Street had been shocked by the intrusion upon its gentility of a -thing so noisy and vulgar as a street-car; but now, when the rest of the -town was shuttled with trolleys and clamorous with speed, it seemed to -itself an oasis of silence. Its gentility had ebbed long ago. The big -houses, standing a little back from the sidewalk, were given over to -lodgers or small businesses. Indeed, the Paytons were the only people -left who belonged to Payton Street's past—and there was a barber shop -next door to them, and a livery-stable across the street.</p> - -<p>"Rather different from the time when your dear father brought me here, a -bride," Mrs. Payton used to say, sighing.</p> - -<p>Her daughter agreed, dryly: "I hope so! Certainly nobody would live on -Payton Street now, if they could afford to buy a lot in the cemetery."</p> - -<p>Yet the Paytons, who could have bought several lots<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> in the cemetery (or -over on the Hill, either, which was where they belonged!), did not leave -the old house—a big, brownstone cube, with a belvedere on top of it -that looked like a bird-cage. The yard in front of the house was so -shaded by ailanthus-trees that grass refused to grow there, and an iron -dog, guarding the patch of bare earth, was spotted with mold.</p> - -<p>The street was very quiet,—except when the barber's children squabbled -shrilly, or Baker's livery-stable sent out a few funeral hacks, or when, -from a barred window in the ell of the Payton house, there came a noisy -laugh. And always, on the half-hour, the two mules went tinkling along, -their neat little feet cupping down over the cobblestones, and their -trace-chains swinging and sagging about their heels. The conductor on -the car had been on the route so long that he knew many of his patrons, -and nodded to them in a friendly way, and said it was a good day, or too -cold for the season; occasionally he imparted information which he -thought might be of interest to them.</p> - -<p>On this October afternoon of brown fog and occasional dashes of rain he -enlightened a lady with a vaguely sweet face, who signaled him to stop -at No. 15.</p> - -<p>"Miss Payton's out," he said, pulling the strap over his head and -bringing his car to a standstill; "but her ma's at home. I brought the -old lady back on my last trip, just as Miss Freddy was starting off with -that pup of hers."</p> - -<p>"It's the 'old lady' I've come to see," his fare said, smiling, and, -gathering up her skirts, stepped down into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> the Payton Street mud. The -bell jangled and the mules went clattering off over the cobblestones.</p> - -<p>Mrs. William Childs, picking her way to the sidewalk, said to herself -that she almost wished Freddy and her dog were at home, instead of the -"old lady."</p> - -<p>"Poor dear Ellen," she thought, in amiable detachment from other -people's troubles; "she's always asking me to sit in judgment on -Fred—and there's nothing on earth I can do."</p> - -<p>It occurred to her as she passed under the dripping ailanthus-trees and -up the white marble door-steps that Payton Street was a gloomy place for -a young creature like Frederica to live. "Even my Laura would kick," she -thought; her thoughts were often in her Laura's vernacular. In the dark -hall, clutching at the newel-post on which an Egyptian maiden held aloft -a gas-burner in a red globe, she extended a foot to a melancholy mulatto -woman, who removed her rubbers and then hung her water-proof on the rack -beside a silk hat belonging to the late Mr. Payton—kept there, Mrs. -Childs knew, to frighten perennially expected burglars.</p> - -<p>"Thank you, Flora," she said. "Has Mr. Weston come yet?" When Flora -explained that Mr. Weston was not expected until later, she started -up-stairs—then hesitated, her hand on the shoulder of the Egyptian -maiden: "Mr. Mortimore—he's not about?"</p> - -<p>"Land, no, Mis' Childs!" the woman reassured her; "he don't ever come -down 'thout his ma or Miss Carter's along with him."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Childs nodded in a relieved way, and went on up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> to the -sitting-room where, as she had been warned, she and Mr. Arthur Weston, -one of the trustees of what was popularly known as "the old Andy Payton -estate," were to "sit in judgment." "It <i>is</i> hard for Fred to have -Mortimore in the house," she thought, kindly; "poor Freddy!"</p> - -<p>The sitting-room was in the ell, and pausing on the landing at the steps -that led up to it, she looked furtively beyond it, toward another room -at the end of the hall. "I wonder if Ellen ever forgets to lock the door -on her side?" she thought;—"well, Nelly dear, how are you?" she called -out, cheerfully.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton, bustling forward to meet her, overflowed with exclamations -of gratitude for her visit. "And such unpleasant weather, too! I do hope -you didn't get your feet damp? I always tell Freddy there is no surer -way to take cold than to get your feet damp. Of course she doesn't -believe me, but I'm used to that! Is William's cold better? I suppose -he's glad of an excuse to stay indoors and read about Bacon and -Shakespeare; which was which? I never can remember! Now sit right down -here. No, take this chair!"</p> - -<p>The caller, moving from one chair to another, was perfectly docile; it -was Ellen's way, and Mrs. Childs had long ago discovered the secret of a -peaceful life, namely, always, so far as possible, to let other people -have their own way. She looked about the sitting-room, and thought that -her sister-in-law was very comfortable. "Laura would have teased me to -death if I had kept my old-fashioned things," she reflected. The room -was feminine as well as old-fashioned; the deeply upholstered chairs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> -and couches were covered with flounced and flowery chintz; on a green -wire plant-stand, over-watered ferns grew daily more scraggy and anemic; -the windows were smothered in lambrequins and curtains, and beadwork -valances draped corner brackets holding Parian marble statuettes; of -course there was the usual womanish clutter of photographs in silver -frames. On the center-table a slowly evolving picture puzzle had pushed -a few books to one side—pretty little books with pretty names, <i>Flowers -of Peace</i> and <i>Messages from Heaven</i>, most of them with the leaves still -uncut. It was an eminently comfortable room; indeed, next to her -conception of duty, the most important thing in Mrs. Andrew Payton's -life was comfort.</p> - -<p>Just now, she was tenaciously solicitous for Mrs. Childs's ease; was she -warm enough? Wasn't the footstool a little too high? And the fire—dear -me! the fire <i>was</i> too hot! She must put up the screen. She wouldn't -make tea until Mr. Weston came; yes, he had promised to come; she had -written him, frankly, that he had simply got to do something about -Freddy. "He's her trustee, as well as mine, and I told him he simply -<i>must</i> do something about this last wild idea of hers. Now! isn't it -better to have the screen in front of the fire?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Childs said the screen was most comfortable; then added, in -uncertain reminiscence, "Wasn't Mr. Weston jilted ages ago by some -Philadelphia girl?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear, yes; so sad. Kate Morrison. She ran off with somebody else -just a week before they were to be married. Horribly awkward for him; -the invitations all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> out! He went to Europe, and was agent for Payton's -until dear Andrew died. You are quite sure you are not too warm?"</p> - -<p>"No, indeed!" Mrs. Childs said. "How is Mortimore?" It was a perfunctory -question, but its omission would have pained Mortimore's mother.</p> - -<p>"<i>Very</i> well!" Mrs. Payton said; her voice challenging any one to -suspect anything wrong with Mortimore's health. "He knew Freddy to-day; -he was in the hall when she went out; he can't bear her dog, and he—he -scolded a little. I'm sure I don't blame him! I hate dogs, myself. But -he knew her; Miss Carter told me about it when I came in. I was so -pleased."</p> - -<p>"That was very nice," her visitor said, kindly. There was a moment's -silence; then, glancing toward a closed door that connected the -sitting-room with that room at the end of the ell, she said, -hesitatingly: "Nelly dear, don't you think that perhaps Freddy wouldn't -be so difficult, if poor Mortimore were not at home? William says he -thinks—"</p> - -<p>"My son shall never leave this house as long as I am in it myself!" Mrs. -Payton interrupted, her face flushing darkly red.</p> - -<p>"But it <i>is</i> unpleasant for Fred, and—"</p> - -<p>"'Unpleasant' to have her poor afflicted brother in the house? Bessie, I -wouldn't have thought such a thing of you! Let me tell you, once for -all, as I've told you many, many times before—never, while I live, -shall Mortimore be treated cruelly and turned out of his own home!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p><p>"But William says they are not cruel, at—at those places; and -Mortimore, poor boy! would never know the difference."</p> - -<p>"He would! He would! Didn't I tell you he recognized his sister to-day? -His sister, who cares more for her dog than she does for him! And he -almost always knows me. Bessie, you don't understand how a mother -feels—" she had risen and was walking about the room, her fat, worn -face sharpening with a sort of animal alertness into power and -protection. The claws that hide in every maternal creature slipped out -of the fur of good manners: "We've gone all over this a hundred times; I -know that you think I am a fool; and <i>I</i> think that you—well, never -mind! The amount of it is, you are not a mother."</p> - -<p>"My dear! What about my three children?"</p> - -<p>"Three healthy children! What do you know of the real child, the -afflicted child, like my Mortimore? Why, I'd see Freddy in her grave -before I'd—" She stopped short. "I—I love both my children exactly the -same," she ended, weakly. Then broke out again: "You and I were brought -up to do our duty, and not talk about it whether it was pleasant or -unpleasant. And let me tell you, if Freddy would do her duty to her -brother, as old Aunt Adelaide did to her invalid brother, she'd be a -thousand times happier than she is now, mixing up with perfectly common -people, and talking about earning her own living! Yes, that's the last -bee in her bonnet,—Working! a girl with a good home, and nothing on -earth to do but amuse herself. She uses really vulgar words<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> about women -who never worked for their living; you and me, for instance. -'Vermin'—no, 'parasites.' Disgusting! Yes; if Freddy was like her -great-aunt Adelaide—" Mrs. Payton, sinking into a chair bubbly with -springs and down, was calmer, but she wiped her eyes once or twice: -"Aunt Adelaide gave up her life to poor Uncle Henry. Everybody says she -had lots of beaux! I heard she had seven offers. But she never dreamed -of getting married. She just lived for her brother. And they say <i>he</i> -was dreadful, Bessie; whereas my poor Mortimore is only—not quite like -other people." Mrs. Childs gasped. "When Morty was six months old," Mrs. -Payton said, in a tense voice, "and we began to be anxious about him, -Andrew said to the doctor, 'I suppose the brat' (you know men speak so -frankly) 'has no brains?' and Dr. Davis said, 'The intellect is there, -Mr. Payton, but it is veiled.' That has always been such a comfort to -me; Morty's intellect is <i>there</i>! And besides, you must remember, -Bessie, that even if he isn't—very intelligent, he's a <i>man</i>, so he's -really the head of the family. As for Freddy, as I say, if she would -follow her aunt Adelaide's example, instead of reading horrid books -about things that when <i>I</i> was a young lady, girls didn't know existed, -she'd be a good deal more comfortable to live with. Oh, dear! what am I -going to do about her? As I wrote to Mr. Weston, when I asked him to -come in this afternoon, what are we going to do about her?"</p> - -<p>"What has poor Fred done now?" Fred's aunt asked, trying patiently to -shut off the torrent of talk.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton drew a long breath; her chin was still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> unsteady. "It isn't -so much this last performance, because, of course, in spite of what Mama -says, everybody who knows Freddy, knows that there was—nothing wrong. -But it's her ideas, and the way she talks. Really, Bessie—"</p> - -<p>"My dear, they all talk most unpleasantly!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton shook her fair head. "Your Laura doesn't. I never heard -Lolly say the sort of things Freddy does. She calls her father -'Billy-boy,' I know, but that's only fun—though in our day, imagine us -calling our fathers by a nickname! No, Bessie, it's Freddy's taste. It's -positively low! There is a Mrs. McKenzie, a scrubwoman out at the Inn, -and she is—<i>you</i> know? It will be the seventh, and they really can -hardly feed the six they have. And Freddy, <i>a young girl</i>, actually told -Mrs. McKenzie she ought not to have so many children!"</p> - -<p>"Well, Ellen, if there are too many now, it does seem—"</p> - -<p>"But, Bessie! A girl to speak of such things! Why, you and I, before we -were married, didn't know—still, there's no use harking back to our -girlhood. And as for the things she says!... Yesterday I was speaking of -the Rev. Mr. Tait, and she said: 'I haven't any use for Tait; he has no -guts to him.'"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Childs was mildly horrified. "But it's only bad taste," she excused -her niece. She was fond of this poor, troubled sister-in-law of -hers—but really, what was the use of fussing so over mere bad taste? -Over really serious things, such as keeping that dreadful Mortimore -about, Ellen didn't fuss at all! "How queer she is," Mrs. Childs -reflected, impersonal, but kindly; then murmured that if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> she had been -unhappy about her children's slang, she'd have been in her grave by this -time; "You should hear my boys! And, after all, Ellen, Fred's a good -child, in spite of this thing she's done (you haven't told me what it is -yet). She's merely like all the rest of them—thinks she knows it all. -Well, we did, too, at her age, only we didn't say so. Sometimes I think -they are more straightforward than we were. But I made up my mind, years -ago, that there was no use trying to run the children on my ideas. -Criticism only provoked them, and made me wretched, and accomplished -nothing. So, as William says, why fuss?"</p> - -<p>"Fred is my daughter, so I have to 'fuss.'"</p> - -<p>"Well," said Mrs. Childs, patiently, "what is it?"</p> - -<p>"Hasn't Laura told you? Mama says everybody is talking about it."</p> - -<p>"No; she hasn't said anything."</p> - -<p>"My dear, Freddy spent the night at the Inn, with Howard Maitland."</p> - -<p>"<i>What!</i>"</p> - -<p>"His car broke down—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, an accident? You can't blame Fred for that. But why didn't they -take the trolley?"</p> - -<p>"They just missed the last car."</p> - -<p>"Well, they were two careless children, but you wouldn't have had them -walk into town, twelve miles, at twelve o'clock at night?"</p> - -<p>"I certainly would! Freddy is always telling me I ought to walk to keep -my weight down—so why didn't she walk home? And as for their being -children, she is twenty-five and I am sure he is twenty-seven."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p><p>She paused here to wonder about Mr. Maitland: curious that he liked to -live alone in that big house on the hill! Pity he hadn't any -relatives—a maiden aunt, or anybody who could keep house for him. His -mother was a sweet little thing. Nice that he had money.</p> - -<p>"He ought to marry," said Mrs. Childs.</p> - -<p>"Of course," said Mrs. Payton; and dropped young Maitland to go back to -the Inn escapade: "Mama was so shocked when she heard about it that she -thought William ought to go and see Mr. Maitland and tell him he must -marry her. Of course, that is absurd—Mama belongs to another -generation. Freddy did take the trouble to telephone me; but Flora took -the message—poor Flora! she's so dissatisfied and low-spirited. I wish -she'd 'get religion'—that keeps servants contented. Miss Carter says -she's in love with one of the men at the livery-stable. But he isn't -very devoted. Well, I was in bed with a headache (I've been dreadfully -busy this week, and pretty tired, and besides, I had worked all the -evening on a puzzle, and I was perfectly worn out); so Flora didn't tell -me, and I didn't know Freddy hadn't come home until the next morning. It -appears she was advising Mrs. McKenzie as to the size of her family, and -when Mr. Maitland found he couldn't make his motor go, and told her they -must take the trolley, she just kept on instructing Mrs. McKenzie! So -they missed the car. She admitted that it was her fault. Well, then—oh, -here is Mr. Weston!"</p> - -<p>He came into the room, dusky with the fog that was pressing against the -windows, like a slender shadow; a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> tall, rather delicate-looking man in -the late forties, with a handsome, whimsical face, which endeavored, -just now, to conceal its boredom.</p> - -<p>"Criminal not present?" he said, shaking hands with the two ladies and -peering near-sightedly about.</p> - -<p>"Oh, she's off with her dog, walking miles and miles, to keep from -getting fat," Mrs. Payton said. She sat down at her tea-table, and -tried, fussily, to light the lamp under the kettle. "It's wicked to be -fat, you know," she ended, with resentful sarcasm; "I wish you could -hear Fred talk about it!"</p> - -<p>"I wish I could," Frederica's man of business said, lifting a humorous -eyebrow; "I always like to hear Fred talk. Let me fix that lamp for you, -Mrs. Payton. I hope I'm thin enough to be moral?"</p> - -<p>The two ladies regarded him with maternal eyes, and Mrs. Childs -recommended a glass of milk at bedtime.</p> - -<p>"Be sure it is pasteurized," she warned him; "my William always says -it's perfect nonsense to fuss about that—but I say it's only prudent."</p> - -<p>"Must I pasteurize my whisky, too?" he said, meekly; "I sometimes take -that at bedtime." It occurred to him that when he had the chance he -would tell Freddy that what with pasteurized milk, and all the other -improvements upon Nature, her children would be supermen; "they'll say -they were evolved from us," he reflected, sipping his tea, and listening -to his hostess's outpourings about her daughter, "as we say we were -evolved from monkeys."</p> - -<p>Not that Mrs. Payton—telling him, with endless <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>illustrations, just how -"impossible" her Freddy was—looked in the least like a monkey; she was -a large, fair, dull lady, of fifty-seven or thereabouts, who never took -any exercise, and credited the condition of her liver to Providence; but -she was nearly as far removed from Miss Frederica Payton as she was from -those arboreal ancestors, the very mention of whom would have shocked -her religious principles, for Mrs. Payton was very truly and humbly -religious.</p> - -<p>"And church—Freddy never goes to church," she complained. "She plays -tennis all Sunday morning. Rather different from our day, isn't it, -Bessie? We children were never allowed even to read secular books on -Sunday. Well, I think it was better than the laxity of the present. We -always wore our best dresses to church, and—"</p> - -<p>"May I have some more tea, Mrs. Payton?" her auditor murmured, and, the -tide of reminiscence thus skilfully dammed, Freddy's offense was finally -revealed to him. "Well," he said,—"yes, cream please; a great deal! I -hope it's pasteurized?—they were stupid to lose the car. Fred told me -all about it yesterday; it appears she was talking to some poor woman -about the size of her family"—the two ladies exchanged horrified -glances;—"of course, Maitland ought to have broken in on eugenics and -hustled her off. But an accident isn't one of the seven deadly sins, -and—"</p> - -<p>"Oh," Fred's mother interrupted, "<i>of course</i> there was nothing wrong."</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston looked at her admiringly; she really conceived it necessary -to say such a thing! Those denied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> ancestors of hers could hardly have -been more direct. It occurred to him, reaching for another lump of -sugar, that Frederica came by her talent for free speech honestly. "With -her mother, it is free thought. Fred goes one better, that's all," he -reflected, dreamily. Once or twice, while the complaints flowed steadily -on, he roused himself from his amused abstraction to murmur sympathetic -disapproval: "Of course she ought not to say things like that—"</p> - -<p>"She is impossible!" Mrs. Payton sighed. "Why, she said 'Damn,' right -out, before the Rev. Mr. Tait!"</p> - -<p>"Did she damn Tait? I know him, and really—"</p> - -<p>"Well, no; I think it was the weather. But that is nothing to the way -she talks about old people."</p> - -<p>"About me, perhaps?"</p> - -<p>"Oh no; really, no! About you?" Mrs. Payton stammered; "why—how could -she say anything about you?"</p> - -<p>Arthur Weston's eyes twinkled. ("I'll make her tell me what it was," he -promised himself.)</p> - -<p>"As for age," Mrs. Childs corroborated, "she seems to have no respect -for it. She spoke quite rudely to her uncle William about Shakespeare -and Bacon. She said the subject '<i>bored</i>' her."</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston shook his head, speechless.</p> - -<p>"And she said," Mrs. Childs went on, her usual detachment sharpening for -a moment into personal displeasure, "she said the antis had no brains; -and she knows I'm an anti!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, my dear," Fred's mother condoled, "I'm an anti, and she says -shocking things to me; once she said the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> antis were—I really can't say -just what she said before Mr. Weston; but she implied they were—merely -mothers. And as for her language! I was saying how perfectly shocked my -dear old friend, Miss Maria Spencer, was over this Inn escapade; Miss -Maria said that if it were known that Freddy had spent the night at the -Inn with Mr. Maitland her reputation would be gone."</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston's lips drew up for a whistle, but he frowned.</p> - -<p>"I told Freddy, and what do you suppose she said? Really, I hesitate to -repeat it."</p> - -<p>"But dear Ellen," Mrs. Childs broke in, "it was horrid in Miss Spencer -to say such a thing! I don't wonder Freddy was provoked."</p> - -<p>"She brought it on herself," Mrs. Payton retorted. "Have another -sandwich, Bessie? What she said is almost too shocking to quote. She -said of my dear old friend—Miss Spencer used to be my school-teacher, -Mr. Weston—'What difference does it make what she said about me? -Everybody knows Miss Spencer is a silly old ass.' 'A silly old ass.' -What do you think of <i>that</i>?" Mrs. Payton's voice trembled so with -indignation that she did not hear Mr. Weston's gasp of laughter. But as -she paused, wounded and ashamed, he was quick to console her:</p> - -<p>"It was abominably disrespectful!"</p> - -<p>"There is no such thing as reverence left in the world," said Mrs. -Childs; "my William says he doesn't know what we are coming to."</p> - -<p>"Youth is very cruel," Mr. Weston said.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton's eyes filled. "Freddy is cruel," she said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> simply. The -wounded look in her worn face was pitiful. They both tried to comfort -her; they denounced Freddy, and wondered at her, and agreed with Mr. -Childs that "nobody knew what we were coming to." In fact, they said -every possible thing except the one thing which, with entire accuracy, -they might have said, namely, that Miss Spencer was a silly old ass.</p> - -<p>"When I was a young lady," Mrs. Payton said, "respect for my elders -would have made such words impossible."</p> - -<p>"Even if you didn't respect them, you would have been respectful?" Mr. -Weston suggested.</p> - -<p>"We reverenced age because it was age," she agreed.</p> - -<p>"Yes; in those happy days respect was not dependent upon desert," he -said, ruefully. (Mrs. Childs looked at him uneasily; just what did he -mean by that?) "It must have been very comfortable," he ruminated, "to -be respected when you didn't deserve to be! This new state of things I -don't like at all; I find that they size me up as I am, these -youngsters, not as what they ought to think I am. One of my nephews told -me the other day that I didn't know what I was talking about."</p> - -<p>"Oh, my dear Mr. Weston, how shocking!" Mrs. Payton sympathized.</p> - -<p>"Well, as it happened, I didn't," he said, mildly; "but how outrageous -for the cub to recognize the fact."</p> - -<p>"Perfectly outrageous!" said his hostess. "But it's just as Bessie says, -they don't know the meaning of the word 'respect.' You should hear -Freddy talk about her grandmother. The other day when I told her that -my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> dear mother said that if women had the ballot, chivalry would die -out and men wouldn't take off their hats in elevators when ladies were -present,—she said, 'Grandmother belongs to the generation of women who -were satisfied to have men retain their vices, if they removed their -hats.' What do you think of that! I'm sure I don't know what Freddy's -father would have said if he had heard his daughter say such a thing -about his mother-in-law."</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston, having known the late Andy Payton, thought it unwise to -quote the probable comment of the deceased. Instead, he tried to change -the subject: "Howard Maitland is a nice chap; I wonder if—" he paused; -there was a scuffle on the other side of the closed door, a bellowing -laugh, then a whine. Mrs. Childs bit her lip and shivered. Mr. Weston's -face was inscrutable. "I wonder," he continued, raising his voice—"if -Fred will smile on Maitland? By the way, I hear he is going in for -conchology seriously."</p> - -<p>"Mortimore is nervous this afternoon," Mrs. Payton said, hurriedly; -"that horrid puppy worried him. Conchology means shells, doesn't it? -Freddy says he has a great collection of shells. I was thinking of -sending him that old conch-shell I used to use to keep the parlor door -open. Do you remember, Bessie? Yes, Mr. Maitland is attentive, but I -don't know how serious it is. Of course, I'm the last person to know! -Rather different from the time when a young man asked the girl's parents -if he might pay his addresses, isn't it? Well, I want to tell you what -she said when I spoke to her about this plan of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> earning her living -(that's her latest fad, Mr. Weston), and told her that, as Mama says, it -isn't <i>done</i>; she—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear! There's the car coming," Mrs. Childs broke in, as the tinkle -of the mules' bells made itself heard. "Do hurry and tell us, Nelly; -I've got to go."</p> - -<p>"But you mustn't! I want to know what you think about it all," Mrs. -Payton said, distractedly; "wait for the next car."</p> - -<p>"I'm so sorry, dear Ellen, but I really can't," her sister-in-law -declared, rising. "Cheer up! I'm sure she'll settle down if she cares -about Mr. Maitland. (I'm out of it!" she was thinking.) But even as she -was congratulating herself, she was lost, for from the landing a fresh -young voice called out:</p> - -<p>"May I come in, Aunt Nelly? How do you do, Mr. Weston! Mama, I came to -catch you and make you walk home. Mama has got to walk, she's getting so -fat! Aunt Nelly, Howard Maitland is here; I met him on the door-step and -brought him in."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> - -<p>Laura Childs came into the quiet, fire-lit room like a little whirl of -fresh wind. The young man, looming up behind her in the doorway, -clean-shaven, square-jawed, honest-eyed, gave a sunshiny grin of general -friendliness and said he hoped Mrs. Payton would forgive him for butting -in, but Fred had told him to call for some book she wanted him to read, -and the maid didn't know anything about it.</p> - -<p>"I thought perhaps she had left it with you," he said.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton, conscious, as were the other two, of having talked about -the speaker only a minute before, expressed flurried and embarrassed -concern. She was so sorry! She couldn't imagine where the book was! She -got up, and fumbled among the <i>Flowers of Peace</i>. "You don't remember -the title?"</p> - -<p>He shook his head. "Awfully sorry. I'm so stupid about all these deep -books Fred's so keen on. Something about birth-rate and the higher -education, I think."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton stiffened visibly. "I don't know of any such book," she -said; then murmured, perfunctorily, that he must have a cup of tea.</p> - -<p>Again Mr. Maitland was sorry,—"dreadfully sorry,"—but he had to go. He -went; and the two ladies looked at each other.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p><p>"<i>Do</i> you suppose he heard us?"</p> - -<p>"I don't believe he did!"</p> - -<p>"Nice chap," said Mr. Weston.</p> - -<p>On the way down-stairs the nice chap was telling Laura that he had -caught on, the minute he got into that room, that it wasn't any social -whirl, so he thought he'd better get out.</p> - -<p>"They're sitting on Freddy, I'm afraid," Laura said, soberly; "poor old -Fred!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I put one over when I asked for that book! I bet even old -Weston's never read it! Neither have I. But Fred can give us all cards -and spades on sociology."</p> - -<p>"She's great," Laura agreed; "but the book isn't so awfully deep. Well, -I'm going back to root for her!"</p> - -<p>She ran up to the sitting-room again, and demanded tea. Her face, under -her big black hat, was like a rose, and her pleasant brown eyes glanced -with all the sweet, good-natured indifference of kindly youth at the -three troubled people about the tea-table. Somehow, quite unreasonably, -their depression lightened for a moment....</p> - -<p>"No! No sugar, Aunt Nelly."</p> - -<p>"Do you want to be as thin as I am, Miss Laura?" Arthur Weston -remonstrated, watching her rub her cool cheek against her mother's, and -kiss her aunt, and "hook" a sandwich from the tea-table. One had to -smile at Laura; her mother smiled, even while she thought of the walk -home, and realized, despairingly, that the car was coming—coming—and -would be gone in a minute or two!</p> - -<p>"My dear, your father says all this fuss about exercise is perfect -nonsense. Really, I think we'd better ride,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> she pleaded with the -pretty creature, who was asking, ruthlessly, for lemon, which meant -another delay.</p> - -<p>"I'll ring, Auntie; Flora will get it in a minute. Mama, I bet you -haven't walked an inch this day! I knew you'd take the car if I didn't -come and drag you on to your legs," she ended, maliciously; but it was -such pretty malice, and her face was so gayly amiable that her mother -surrendered. "The only thing that reconciles me to Billy-boy's being too -poor to give us an auto," Laura said, gravely, "is that Mama would weigh -a ton if she rode everywhere. I bet you've eaten six cream-cheese -sandwiches, Mama? You'll gain a pound for each one!"</p> - -<p>"You'll be the death of me, Lolly," her mother sighed. "I only ate -three. Well, I'll stay a little longer, Ellen, and walk part way home -with this child. She's a perfect tyrant," she added, with tender, -scolding pride in the charming young creature, whose arch impertinence -was irresistible.</p> - -<p>"Take off your coat, my dear," Mrs. Payton said, patting her niece's -hand, "and go and look at my puzzle over on the table. Five hundred -pieces! I'm afraid it will take me a week yet to work it out;"—then, in -an aside: "Laura, I'm mortified that I should have asked Mr. Maitland -the title of that book before you,"—Laura opened questioning eyes;—"so -indelicate of Fred to tell him to read it! Oh, here's Flora with the -lemon. Thank you, Flora.... Laura, do you know what Freddy is thinking -of doing now?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, the real-estate business. It's perfectly corking! Howard Maitland -says he thinks she's simply great to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> do it. I only wish <i>I</i> could go -into business and earn some money!"</p> - -<p>"My dear, if you will save some money in your own home, you will be just -as well off," Mrs. Childs said, dryly.</p> - -<p>"Better off," Mr. Weston ventured, "but you won't have so much fun. This -idea of Fred's is a pretty expensive way of earning money."</p> - -<p>"You know about it?" Mrs. Payton said, surprised.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes; she broke it to me yesterday."</p> - -<p>"Just what is her idea?" Mrs. Childs asked, with mild impatience.</p> - -<p>"Let me explain it," Frederica's man of business said ... and proceeded -to put the project into words of three letters, so to speak. Fred had -hit on the fact that there are many ladies—lone females, Mr. Weston -called them; who drift about looking for apartments;—"nice old maids. I -know two of them at this minute, the Misses Graham, cousins of mine in -Grafton. They are going to spend the winter in town, and they want a -furnished apartment. It must be near a drug-store and far enough from an -Episcopal church to make a nice walk on Sundays—<i>fair</i> Sundays. And it -must be on the street-car line, so that they can go to concerts, with, -of course, a messenger-boy to escort them; for they 'don't mean to be a -burden to a young man'; that's me, I'll have you know! 'A young man'! -When a chap is forty-six that sounds very well. Fred proposes to find -shelters for just such people."</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i022.jpg" id="i022.jpg"></a><img src="images/i022.jpg" alt="LET ME EXPLAIN IT" /></div> - -<p class="bold">"LET ME EXPLAIN IT," FREDERICA'S MAN OF BUSINESS SAID ... -AND<br />PROCEEDED TO PUT THE PROJECT INTO WORDS OF THREE LETTERS</p> - -<p>The two ladies were silent with dismay and ignorance. Laura, sucking a -piece of lemon, and seeing a chance to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> "root," said, "How bully to have -an office! I'm going to make her take me as office boy."</p> - -<p>"The Lord only knows how she got the idea," Arthur Weston went on, "but -it isn't entirely bad. I confess I wish her ambition would content -itself with a post-office address, but nothing short of a real office -will satisfy her. She has her eye on one in the tenth story of the -Sturtevant Building; I am on the third, you know. But I think she can do -it all on her allowance, though rent and advertising will use up just -about all her income."</p> - -<p>"I will never consent to it," Mrs. Payton said, angrily. "It is absurd, -anyhow! Freddy, to hunt up houses for elderly ladies—<i>Freddy</i>, of all -people! She knows no more about houses, or housekeeping, than—than that -fire-screen! Just as an instance, I happened to tell her that I couldn't -remember whether I had seventy-two best towels and eighty-four ordinary -towels, or the other way round; I was really ashamed to have forgotten -which it was, and I said that as soon as I got time I must count them. -(Of course, I have the servants' towels, too; five dozen and four, with -red borders to distinguish them.) And Freddy was positively insulting! -She said women whose minds had stopped growing had to count towels for -mental exercise. When <i>I</i> was a girl, I should have offered to count the -towels for my mother! As for her finding apartments for elderly ladies, -I would as soon trust a—a baby! Do you mean the Mason Grahams, Mr. -Weston? Miss Eliza and Miss Mary? Mama knows them. You've met them, too, -haven't you, Bessie? Well, I can only say that I should be exceedingly -mortified to have the Misses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> Graham know that any Payton girl was -behaving in such an extraordinary manner. The real-estate business! She -might as well go out as a servant."</p> - -<p>"She would make more money as a cook," he admitted. But he could not -divert the stream of hurt and angry objections. Once Mrs. Childs said to -tell Fred her uncle William would say it was perfect nonsense; and once -Laura whispered to Mr. Weston that she thought it would be great sport -to hunt flats for flatlings; to which he whispered back: "Shoal. 'Ware -shoal, Laura."</p> - -<p>There were many shoals in the distressed argument that followed, and -even Arthur Weston's most careful steering could not save some bumps and -crashes. In the midst of them the car came clattering down the street, -and after a while went clattering back; and still the three elders -wrangled over the outlaw's project, and Laura, sitting on the arm of her -mother's chair, listened, giggling once in a while, and saying to -herself that Mr. Weston was a perfect lamb—for there was no doubt about -it, he, too, was "rooting" for Fred.</p> - -<p>"I <i>must</i> go," Mrs. Childs said, at last, in a distressed voice. "No, -Lolly, we haven't time to walk; we must take the car. Oh, Ellen, I meant -to ask you: can't you join my bridge club? There's going to be a -vacancy, and I'm sure you can learn—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, my dear, I couldn't possibly! I'm so busy; I haven't a minute—"</p> - -<p>"Well, think it over," Mrs. Childs urged. "And, Nelly dear, I know it -will be all right about Fred. I'm sure William would say so. Don't -worry!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p><p>But when the door closed upon the escaping aunt and the sympathizing -cousin, poor Mrs. Payton's worry overflowed into such endless details -that at last her hearer gave up trying to comfort her. When he, too, -made his escape, he was profoundly fatigued. His plea that Frederica -should be allowed to burn her fingers so that she might learn the -meaning of fire had not produced the slightest effect. To everything he -said Mrs. Payton had opposed her outraged taste, her wounded love, her -fixed belief in the duty of youth to age. When he ventured to quote that</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"... it was better youth</div> -<div>Should strive, through acts uncouth,</div> -<div>Towards making, than repose on aught found made,"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>she said poetry was all very well, but that, perhaps, if the poet or -poetess who wrote that had had a daughter, they would think differently. -When she was reminded that she, too, had had different ideas from those -of her parents, she said, emphatically, <i>never!</i>—except in things where -they had grown a little old-fashioned.</p> - -<p>"I don't believe, when I was a girl, I ever crossed Mama in anything -more important than in little matters of dress or furnishings.... Oh, do -look at my puzzle before you go!"</p> - -<p>But Arthur Weston, almost dizzy with the endless words, had fled. -Down-stairs, while he hunted for his hat and coat, he paused to draw a -long breath and throw out his arms, as if he would stretch his cramped -mind, as well as his muscles, stiffened by long relaxing among the -cushions of the big arm-chair.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p><p>"Is there anything in this world duller than the pronunciamento of a -dull woman!" he said to himself. On the street, for sheer relief of -feeling the cool air against his face, instead of the warm stillness of -Mrs. Payton's sitting-room, he did not hail the approaching car, but -strolled aimlessly along the pavement, sticky with fog.</p> - -<p>"I wonder if she talks in her sleep?" he said. "I don't believe she ever -stops! How can Fred stand it?" He knew he couldn't stand it himself. -"I'd sell pop-corn on the street corner, to get away from it—and from -Andy's old stovepipe!" It occurred to him that the ideals set forth in -Mrs. Payton's ceaseless conversation were of the same era as the hat. -"But the hat would fit Fred best," he thought—"Hello!" he broke off, -as, straining back on the leash of an exasperated Scotch terrier, a girl -came swinging around the corner of the street and caromed into him so -violently that he nearly lost his balance.</p> - -<p>"Grab him, will you?" she gasped; and when Mr. Weston had grabbed, and -the terrier was sprawling abjectly under the discipline of a friendly -cuff on his nose, she got her breath, and said, panting, "Where do you -spring from?"</p> - -<p>It was Frederica Payton, her short serge skirt splashed with mud, and a -lock of hair blown across her eyes. "He's a wretch, that pup!" she said. -"I'll give him to you for a present."</p> - -<p>"I wouldn't deprive you of him for the world!" he protested, in alarm. -"Here, let me have the leash."</p> - -<p>She relinquished it, and they walked back together toward Payton Street, -Zip shambling meekly at their heels.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p><p>"Well," she said, thrusting a confiding arm in his, "were you able to -move her? Or did she turn Aunt Bessie loose on you, too? I knew Aunt -Bessie was to be asked to the funeral. I suppose she talked -anti-suffrage, and quoted 'my William' every minute? Aunt Bessie hasn't -had an idea of her own since the year one! Isn't it queer what stodgy -minds middle-aged women have? I suppose you are about dead?"</p> - -<p>"I have felt more lively. Fred, why can't you see your mother's side of -it?"</p> - -<p>"Why can't she see my side of it?"</p> - -<p>"But she thinks—"</p> - -<p>"But <i>I</i> think! What I object to in Mother is that she wants me to think -her thoughts. Apart from the question of hypocrisy, I prefer my own." As -she spoke, the light of a street lamp fell full on her face—a wolfish, -unhumorous young face, pathetic with its hunger for life; he saw that -her chin was twitching, and there was a wet gleam on one flushed cheek. -"Besides," she said, "I simply won't go on spending my days as well as -my nights in that house. You don't know what it means to live in the -same house with—with—"</p> - -<p>"I wish you were married," he said, helplessly; "that's the best way to -get out of that house."</p> - -<p>She laughed, and squeezed his arm. "You want to get off your job?" she -said, maliciously; "well, you can't. I'm the Old Man of the Sea, and -you'll have to carry me on your back for the rest of your life. No -marriage in mine, thank you!"</p> - -<p>They were sauntering along now in the darkness, her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> arm still in his, -and her cheek, in her eagerness, almost touching his shoulder; her voice -was flippantly bitter:</p> - -<p>"I don't want a man; I want an occupation!"</p> - -<p>"But it isn't necessary, Fred. And besides, there are home duties."</p> - -<p>"In our house? Name 'em! Shall I make the soap, or wait on the table and -put Flora out of a job? Where people have any money at all, 'home -duties,' so far as girls are concerned, are played out. Machinery is the -cuckoo that has pushed women out of the nest of domesticity. I made that -up," she added, with frank vanity. "I haven't a blessed thing to do in -my good home—I suppose you heard that I had a 'good home'? which means -a roof, and food, so far as I can make out. But as there is something -besides eating and sleeping in this life, I am going to get busy outside -of my 'good home'!"</p> - -<p>He thought of the towels, but only murmured vaguely that there were -things a girl could do which were not quite so—so—</p> - -<p>"'Unwomanly'? That's Mother's word. Grandmother's is 'unladylike.' No, -sir! I've done all the nice, 'womanly' things that girls who live at -home have to do to kill time. I've painted—can't paint any more than -Zip! And I've slummed. I hate poor people, they smell so. And I've taken -singing lessons; I have about as much voice as a crow. My Suffrage -League isn't work, it's fun. I might have tried nursing, but Grandmother -had a fit; that 'warm heart' she's always handing out couldn't stand the -idea of relieving male suffering. 'What!' she said, 'see a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>gentleman -entirely undressed, in his bed!' I said, 'It would be much more alarming -to see him entirely dressed in his bed'!" She paused, her eyes narrowing -thoughtfully; "it's queer about Grandmother—I don't really dislike her. -She makes me mad, because she's such an awful old liar; but she's no -fool."</p> - -<p>"That's a concession. I hope you'll make as much for me."</p> - -<p>"They were poor when she was a girl, and she had to do things—household -things, I mean; really <i>had</i> to. So she has stuff in her; and, in her -way, she's a good sport. But she is narrow and coarse. 'See a gentleman -in his bed!' And she thinks she's <i>modest</i>! But poor dear Mother simply -died on the spot when I mentioned nursing. So I gave that up. Well, I -have to admit I wasn't very keen for it; I don't like sick people, -dressed or undressed."</p> - -<p>"They don't like themselves very much, Fred."</p> - -<p>"I suppose they don't," she said, absently. "Well, nursing really wasn't -my bat, so I have nothing against Mother on that lay. But you see, I've -tried all the conventional things, and I've made up my mind to cut 'em -out. Business is the thing for me. Business!"</p> - -<p>"But isn't there a question of duty?" he said.</p> - -<p>"Do you mean to Mortimore? Poor wretch! That's what Mother harps on from -morning to night. What duty have I to Mortimore? I'm not responsible for -him. I didn't bring him here. Mother has a duty to him, I grant you. She -owes him—good Lord! how much she owes him! Apologies, to begin with. -What right had she and 'old Andy Payton' to bring him into the world?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> I -should think they would have been ashamed of themselves. Father was old -and dissipated; and there was an uncle of his, you know, like Mortimore. -His 'intellect was there,' too, but it was very decidedly 'veiled'! I -suppose Mother worked the 'veiled intellect' off on you?"</p> - -<p>They had reached the Payton house by this time, and Frederica, her hand -on the gate, paused in the rainy dusk and looked into Arthur Weston's -face, with angry, unabashed eyes. "Don't talk to me about a duty to -Mortimore!"</p> - -<p>"I meant a duty to your mother. Think of what you owe your mother."</p> - -<p>"What do I owe her? Life! Did I ask for life? Was I consulted? Before I -am grateful for life, you've got to prove that I've liked living. So -far, I haven't. Who would, with Mortimore in the house? When I was a -child I couldn't have girls come and see me for fear he would come -shuffling about." He saw her shoulders twitch with the horror of that -shuffling. "It makes me tired, this rot about a child's gratitude and -duty to a parent! It's the other way round, as I look at it; the parent -owes the child a lot more than the child owes the parent. Did 'old Andy' -and Mama bring me into this world for <i>my</i> pleasure? You know they -didn't. 'Duty to parents'—that talk won't go down," she said, harshly, -and snapped the gate shut between them.</p> - -<p>He looked at her helplessly. She was wrong, but much of what she had -said was right,—or, rather, accurate. But when, in all the history of -parenthood, had there been a time when children accused their fathers -and mothers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> of selfishness, and cited their own existence as a proof of -that selfishness! "Your mother will be very lonely," he said.</p> - -<p>She shook her head. "Mother doesn't need me in the least. A puzzle of a -thousand pieces is a darned sight more interesting than I am."</p> - -<p>"You are a puzzle in one piece," he said.</p> - -<p>"I'm not as much use to Mother as Father's old silk hat down in the -hall; <i>I</i> never scared a burglar yet. I tell you what, Mother and I have -about as much in common as—as Zip and that awful iron dog! Mother -thinks she is terribly noble because she devotes herself to Mortimore. -Mr. Weston, she enjoys devoting herself! She says she's doing her duty. -I suppose she is, though I would call it instinct, not duty. Anyhow, -there's nothing noble about it. It's just nature. Mother is like a cat -or a cow; they adore their offspring. And they have a perfect right to -lick 'em all over, or anything else that expresses cat-love. But you -don't say they are 'noble' when they lick 'em! And cows don't insist -that other cows shall lick calves that are not theirs. Mortimore isn't -mine. Yes; that's where Mother isn't as sensible as a cow. She can give -herself up all she wants to, but she sha'n't give me up. <i>I</i> won't lick -Mortimore!" She was quivering, and her eyes were tragic. "Why, Flora has -more in common with me than Mother, for Flora is at least -dissatisfied—poor old Flora! Whereas Mother is as satisfied as a -vegetable. That's why she's an anti. No; she isn't even a vegetable; -vegetables grow! Mother's mind stopped growing when her first baby was -born. Mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> and I don't speak the same language. I don't suppose she -means to be cruel," she ended, "but she is."</p> - -<p>"Did it ever occur to you that you are cruel?"</p> - -<p>She winced at that; he saw her bite her lip, and for a moment she did -not speak. Then she burst out: "That's the worst of it. I <i>am</i> cruel. I -say things—and then, afterward, I could kick myself. Yet they are true. -What can I do? I tell the truth, and then I feel as if I had—had kicked -Zip in the stomach!"</p> - -<p>"Stop kicking Zip anywhere," he admonished her; "it's bad taste."</p> - -<p>"But if I don't speak out, I'll <i>bust</i>!"</p> - -<p>"Well, bust," he said, dryly; "that's better than kicking Zip."</p> - -<p>Her face broke into a grin, and she leaned over the gate to give his arm -a squeeze. "I don't know how I'd get along without you," she told him. -"Darn that pup!" she said, and dashed after Zip's trailing leash.</p> - -<p>Arthur Weston, looking after her, laughed, and waved his hand. "How -young she is! Well, I'll put the office business through for her."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> - -<p>Somehow or other he did "put the office business through"; but the -persuading of Mrs. Payton was a job of many days. So far as opinions -went, he had to concede almost everything; of course Freddy's project -was "absurd"; of course "girls didn't do such things" when Mrs. Payton -was a young lady;—still, why not let Fred find out by experience how -foolish her scheme of self-support was?</p> - -<p>"It mortifies me to death," Mrs. Payton moaned.</p> - -<p>"I don't like it myself," he admitted.</p> - -<p>"What does Mr. Maitland say to it?"</p> - -<p>"She says he says it's 'corking,'" Arthur Weston quoted; "I wish they -would talk English! The smallness of their vocabulary is dreadfully -stupid. They think it is smart to be laconic, but it's only boring. Do -you think Fred cares about Maitland?"</p> - -<p>"I wish she did, but she isn't—human! Rather different from my girlhood -days! Then, a girl liked to have beaux. One of my cousins had a set of -spoons—she bought one whenever she had a proposal. I don't think Freddy -has had a single offer. I tell her it's because she cheapens herself by -being so familiar with the young men. Not an offer! But I don't believe -she's at all mortified. Well,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> it's just part of the 'newness' of -things. I dislike everything that is new! I wish Freddy would get -married."...</p> - -<p>"Why," Mr. Weston pondered, as, having wrung a reluctant consent from -Mrs. Payton, he closed the door of No. 15 behind him, "why do we -consider marriage the universal panacea?" But whether he knew why or -not, he believed it was a panacea, and even plotted awkwardly to -administer it to Frederica. Maitland was just the man for her; a good -fellow, straight and clean, and with money behind him. The worst of it -was that he could not be counted on to discourage Fred's folly; indeed, -he seemed immensely taken by all her schemes; the more preposterous she -was, the more, apparently, he admired her. He was as full of half-baked -ideas as Fred herself! But there was this difference between them: -Howard did not give you the sense of being abnormal; he was only -asinine. And every first-rate boy has to be an ass before he amounts to -anything as a man.</p> - -<p>But Fred was not normal.</p> - -<p>A week later, "<i>F. Payton</i>" had been painted on the index of the -Sturtevant Building, and Arthur Weston, pausing as he got out of the -elevator, glanced at the gilt letters with ironical eyes. He was about -to let the panels of the revolving door push him into the street when -Mr. William Childs entered and hooked an umbrella on his arm.</p> - -<p>"Hey! Weston! Most interesting thing: do you recall the twenty-third -Sonnet? You don't? Begins:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"'As an imperfect actor on the stage';</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>I've made a most interesting discovery!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p><p>His prisoner, saying despairingly, "Really?" looked for a way of -escape—but the crook of the umbrella held him.</p> - -<p>"In a hurry? Hey? What? Well, I'll tell you some other time." Then the -umbrella was reversed and pointed to the index. "Perfec' nonsense! -What?"</p> - -<p>"Girls are very energetic nowadays," Mr. Weston murmured, rubbing his -arm.</p> - -<p>"She'd better put her energy into housekeeping!"</p> - -<p>"Then Mrs. Payton would have nothing to do."</p> - -<p>"Well, then let her get married, and keep house for herself,—instead of -laying down the law to her elders! She instructed me who I should vote -for, if you please! Smith is her man, because he believes in woman -suffrage. What do you think of that?"</p> - -<p>"I think she's a good deal like you or me, when we want a thing put -through."</p> - -<p>"No such thing! Smith is the worst boss this state ever had. I told her -so, and—Hey, there! Stop—I'm going up!" he called, wildly; and skipped -into the elevator. "Tell her to get married!" he called down to Arthur -Weston, who watched his ascending spats, and then let the revolving door -urge him into the street. "There it is again," he ruminated, "'get -married.' But girls don't marry for homes nowadays, my dear William. -There are no more 'Clinging Vines.' Mrs. Payton is one of the last of -them, and, Lord! what a blasted oak she clung to!" He had an unopened -letter from Mrs. Payton in his pocket, and as he sauntered along he -wondered whether, if it remained unopened for another hour or two, he -could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> lie truthfully to her and say he had not received it "in time" to -come and talk over Freddy. "For that's what she wants, of course," he -thought, dolefully; "it's a nice point of conscience. I'll go and sit in -the park and think it out. By the time I decide, it will be too late to -go—and then I'll open the letter! Why do women who have nothing to say, -always write long letters?"—he touched the envelope with an appraising -thumb and finger—"eight pages, all full of Freddy's sins!"</p> - -<p>Rambling toward the park in the warm November afternoon Arthur Weston -wondered just what was the matter with Fred. When, ten years before, he -had gone abroad to represent the Payton interests in France (and, -incidentally, to cure a heart which had been very roughly handled by a -lady whose vocation was the collecting of hearts), Frederica had been a -plain, boring, long-legged youngster, who disconcerted him by her silent -and persistent stare. She was then apparently like any other -fourteen-year-old girl—gawky, dull, and, to a blighted being of -thirty-six, entirely uninteresting. When he came home, nine years later -(heart-whole), to render an account of his Payton stewardship, it was to -find with dismay that "old Andy," just deceased, had expressed his -appreciation of services rendered by naming him one of the executors of -the Payton estate, and to find, also, that the grubby, silent girl he -had left when he went to Europe had shot up into a tall, rather angular -woman, no longer silent, and most provokingly interesting. She was still -plain, but she had one of those primitive faces which, while sometimes -actually ugly, are, under the stress of certain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> emotions, -extraordinarily handsome. She was never pretty; there was too much -thought in the jutting lines of her brow and chin, and her cheeks, -smudged sometimes with red, sometimes rigidly pale, had no dimpling -suggestion of a smile. Her gray, unhumorous eyes still held one by their -nakedly direct gaze, even while a bludgeon-like truthfulness of speech -made her hearers wince away from her.</p> - -<p>Now, except for her rather tiresome slang, she never bored Arthur -Weston; she merely bothered him—because he was so powerless to help -her. He found himself constantly wondering about her; but his wonder was -always good-natured; it had none of the bitterness which marked the -bewilderment of her elderly relatives, or the very freely expressed -contempt of her masculine cousins. Her man of business felt only -amusement, and a pity which made him, at moments, ready to abet her -maddest notions, just to give the wild young creature a little comfort. -Yet he never forgot Mrs. Payton's pain; for, no matter whether she was -reasonable or not, he knew that Freddy's mother suffered.</p> - -<p>"I'd like to shake Fred!" he said; "confound it, I run with the hare and -hunt with the hounds!"</p> - -<p>In the park, in his discouragement at the whole situation, he sat down -on one of the concrete benches by the lake, and looked at the children -and nursery-maids, and at two swans, snow-white on the dark water. He -wished he could feel that Fred was all right or her mother all wrong; -but both were right, and both were wrong. Nevertheless, he realized that -Fred's suffering moved him more than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> Mrs. Payton's. Think of having the -"veiled intellect" in the ell, "shuffling round" all the time! "But -that's life," he reminded himself. Duty handcuffs all of us to our -relations. Look at the historic Aunt Adelaide, who wouldn't take any of -her beaux—there were more of them every time Mrs. Payton talked of -Fred's shortcomings! Aunt Adelaide had turned her beaux down because of -this thing called Duty, a word which apparently conveyed nothing -whatever to the mind of her grandniece Miss Frederica Payton, who, -however, had her own word—<i>Truth</i>. A word which had once caused her to -describe Aunt Adelaide's self-immolation as "damned silly."</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston, looking idly at the swans curving their necks and thrusting -their bills down into the black water, felt that though Fred's taste was -vile, her judgment was sound—it <i>was</i> silly for Aunt Adelaide to -sacrifice herself on the altar of a being absolutely useless to society. -Then he thought, uneasily, of the possible value to Aunt Adelaide's -character of self-sacrifice. "No," he decided, "self-sacrifice which -denies common sense isn't virtue; it's spiritual dissipation!"</p> - -<p>Then his mind drifted to Laura Childs; Laura was not so hideously -truthful as Fred, and her conceit was not quite so obvious; yet she, -too, was of the present—full of preposterous theories for reforming the -universe! Her activities overflowed the narrow boundaries of -domesticity, just as Fred's did; she went to the School of Design, and -perpetrated smudgy charcoal-sketches; she had her committees, and her -clubs, every other darned, tiresome thing that a tired man, coming home -from business, shrinks from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> hearing discussed, as he would shrink from -the noises of his shop or factory. "'The new wine's foaming flow'!—I -should think Billy-boy would spank her," Weston thought, -sympathetically. Furthermore, Laura detected, with affectionate -contempt, the weak places in her elder's armor of pompous authority. He -had heard her take off her father's "perfec' nonsense"! Her comments -upon her mother's lazy plumpness were as accurate as they were -disrespectful. Imagine girls back in the '70's, or even the '80's, doing -such things! Yet Laura differed, somehow, from Fred; she was—he -couldn't formulate it. He looked absently at the babies, and the -nursery-maids, and then the dim idea took shape: you could think of -Laura and babies together, but a baby in Frederica's arms was an -anomaly. Why? After all, she was a female thing; you ought to be able to -picture her with a baby. But you couldn't. "I wish," Arthur Weston -began;—but before he could decide exactly what he wished, out of the -brown haze across the park came young Maitland, swinging along, as -attractive a chap as you would see in a day's work. He hailed the older -man joyously, and, standing up before him with his hands in his pockets, -began to josh him unmercifully.</p> - -<p>"Is She late? I bet She's jealous of all these dames with white caps on! -You should choose a more secluded spot."</p> - -<p>"She is very late, Howard, and she will be later. She has got to have -little curls in the back of her neck, and be afraid of sitting here -without a chaperon. And she must have rubbers on, because there is no -surer way of taking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> cold than by having damp feet. And she must do all -that all her great-aunts have done. I won't accept her on any other -terms. So you see, I shall have to wait some time for her. In fact, I -have given her up. Sit down. I want to talk to you."</p> - -<p>Maitland sat down, and said he thought one of those hoop-skirted, -ringleted damsels would be a good deal of a peach. "You see the -photographs of 'em in old albums, and they certainly were pretty -things."</p> - -<p>"Howard, Freddy Payton's going into business. Did you know it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; she's a wonder!"</p> - -<p>"She is," the other man agreed, dryly.</p> - -<p>"I was talking to Laura Childs about her last night, and she told me how -tough it was for her at home,—<i>you</i> know?"</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston nodded.</p> - -<p>"And her mother is an anti!" Howard said, sympathetically. "I've only -seen Mrs. Payton once or twice, but it struck me she was the anti type. -Not very exciting to live with."</p> - -<p>"She does show considerable cerebral quietude," Weston admitted, -chuckling.</p> - -<p>"Did you ever make a call in the Payton house, and see old Andy Payton's -silk hat on the hat-rack?"</p> - -<p>"I have. But I'm not afraid of it;—there are no brains in it now."</p> - -<p>"Well, I told Laura I thought she was the finest woman I knew," Maitland -said, earnestly.</p> - -<p>"Who? Lolly?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p><p>"Heavens, no! Fred. She's no Victorian miss, I tell you what!"</p> - -<p>"The Victorians would send her to bed on bread and water."</p> - -<p>"I heard her make a speech to those striking garment-women," Fred's -defender said; "she told 'em to get the vote, and their wages would go -up. It was fine."</p> - -<p>"Whether it was true is immaterial?"</p> - -<p>Howard did not go into that. "And then, about morals; she talks to you -just like another man. There's none of this business of pretending she -doesn't know things. She knows as much about life as you or I."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't pretend to know as much as you," Arthur Weston deprecated, -lifting a humorously modest eyebrow.</p> - -<p>"She talks well, too, doesn't she?" Howard rambled on; "I don't know -what she's talking about sometimes, she's so confoundedly cultivated. -The other day I said something about that nasty uplift play that they -tried to pull off at the Penn Street Theater; and then I jerked myself -up, and sort of apologized. And Freddy said, 'Go ahead; what's eating -you?' And I said, 'Oh, well, I didn't know whether I ought to speak of -that sort of thing.' And she said, 'Only the truth shall make us free.' -That's out of the Bible, I believe."</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston nodded. "I know the book. I've even read it, which is -probably more than either you or Fred have done. I don't think it says -the truth shall make you free—and easy; does it?"</p> - -<p>Howard laughed, and got on his feet. "I'm going to beat up business for -her. I took her round in my car to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> look up apartments for those -relations of yours. Why doesn't Mrs. Payton have a car? Haven't they -money enough?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes. But that poor creature, the brother, has to go out in a -carriage. An auto would excite him, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"I see. I told Fred she ought to have a little motor of her own, just as -a matter of business."</p> - -<p>"Hold on!" Frederica's trustee remonstrated, in alarm. "Take her in your -car, if you want to, but please don't suggest one for her. She'd have to -put a mortgage on her office furniture to pay for a week's gasoline! -Look here, Howard—don't stand there like the Colossus of Rhodes, -looking down at me as if I only weighed as much as one of your -legs—tell me this: don't you see that this business of Fred's earning -her living is perfectly artificial? She has a little income, and she can -live on it; and when her mother dies, she'll have all the Payton money. -So it is entirely unnecessary for her to go to work, to say nothing of -the fact that she won't earn enough to buy her shoe-strings."</p> - -<p>"Oh, but," the young man burst out, "look at the principle involved! If -you live on inherited money, you're a parasite. I know I do it myself," -he confessed, frankly, "but I'm going to work as soon as I can get a -job. I'm going in for shells. And I believe in work for a woman just as -much as for a man. The trouble is that when a girl has money, there -isn't any <i>real</i> work for her, so she has to manufacture an -occupation—like this social-service stunt at the hospitals they're so -hot on nowadays. Joe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> Gould—he's an interne—he told me the most of 'em -were nuisances. But, oh, how they enjoy it! They just lap it up. It -makes me a little fatigued to hear 'em talk about it," he said, yawning. -"Laura Childs doesn't talk much, but Gould says the patients like to -have her come round, because she's good to look at. But with most girls -it isn't real. And if a girl doesn't do real things, if she just amuses -herself, she'll go stale, just like a fellow. Fred put that up to me," -he explained, modestly. "I wouldn't have thought of it myself."</p> - -<p>"I bet you wouldn't!" Arthur Weston said; "but don't you see? Fred's own -occupation isn't real."</p> - -<p>"She's rather down on me because I'm not in politics," Howard said, -drolly; "did you ever notice that reformers don't take other people's -stunts very seriously? Fred has no use for shells. Laura thinks my -collection is great. But Fred says that it's only an amusement."</p> - -<p>"You might do worse," the older man told him; "but never mind that. What -I want to know is, why don't some of you fellows brace up and ask Freddy -to marry you?"</p> - -<p>"She wouldn't look at any of us. I don't know any man who could keep up -with her mentally! You ought to hear her talk."</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston raised a protesting hand. "Please! I've heard her."</p> - -<p>Maitland laughed and strode off into the dusk, leaving Arthur Weston to -sit and look at the swans. The nursery-maids and perambulators had gone; -the Chinese pagoda on the artificial island showed a sudden spark of -light, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> the arc-lamps across the park sputtered into the evening -haze like lurching moons. The chill of the water and the night made him -shiver. That youngster was so big and up-standing and satisfied with -life! And certainly he was in love with Fred.</p> - -<p>"Then she'll be off my hands," Fred's man of business said; "what a -relief!"</p> - -<p>And life looked as bleak and uninteresting as the cold dusk of the -deserted park.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> - -<p>"I never see her from morning till night," Mrs. Payton said. "Rather -different from my day! When I was a young lady, girls stayed indoors -with their mothers."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton's mother, stroking her white gloves down over her knuckly -fingers, shrugged her shoulders: "You didn't like 'those days' so very -much yourself, my dear. But of course Freddy is shocking. It isn't that -she has bad taste—she has no taste! All I hope is that she won't -publicly disgrace us. Bessie Childs says that her husband says this -business idea is perfect nonsense."</p> - -<p>The two ladies were in the double parlor on the left of the wide hall of -No 15. It was a gloomy place, even when the ailanthus-trees had lost -their leaves; the French windows were so smothered in plush and lace -that the gleam of narrow mirrors between them could not lighten the -costly ugliness. In its day the room had been very costly. The carpet, -with its scrolls and garlands, the ebony cabinets, picked out in -gilt—big and foolish and empty—the oil-paintings in vast, tarnished -frames, must all have been very expensive. There was an ormolu clock on -the black marble mantelpiece holding Time stationary at 7.20 o'clock of -some forgotten morning or evening; the bronzes on either side of it—a -fisher-maid with her string of fish,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> and a hunter bearing an antelope -on his shoulders—were dulled by the smoky years. Opposite the -fireplace, against the chocolate-brown wall-paper, Andrew Payton, on a -teakwood pedestal, glimmered in white marble blindness. Beside him, the -key-board of a grand piano was yellowing in untouched silence. The room -was so dim that Mrs. Holmes, coming in out of the sunshine, stumbled -over a rug.</p> - -<p>"You have such a clutter of things, Ellen," she complained, sharply.</p> - -<p>"It's lighter up-stairs," Mrs. Payton defended herself.</p> - -<p>"What did you say? Do speak more distinctly!"</p> - -<p>"I said it was lighter up-stairs. Come up, and I'll show you a puzzle -I've just worked out. Dreadfully difficult!"</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Holmes never went up-stairs in the Payton house; to be sure, -the door between the sitting-room and the room beyond it was always -locked, but—<i>you heard things</i>. So she said she couldn't climb the -stairs. "I'm getting old, I'm afraid," she said, archly.</p> - -<p>"I suppose you are very rheumatic?" her daughter sympathized; "why don't -you try—"</p> - -<p>"Not at all!" the older lady interrupted; "just a little stiff. Mrs. -Dale said her cousin thought you were my sister," she added, -maliciously.</p> - -<p>As far as clothes went, the cousin might have supposed Mrs. Holmes was -Mrs. Payton's daughter—the skirt in the latest ugliness of style, the -high heels, the white veil over the elaborate hair, were all far more -youthful than the care-worn mother of Frederica (and Mortimore) would -have permitted herself.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p><p>"I've been so dreadfully busy," Mrs. Holmes declared; "I meant to come -in yesterday, but I had a thousand things to do! Bridge all afternoon at -Bessie Childs's. I played with young Mrs. Dale. She ought to get another -dressmaker."</p> - -<p>"Did you know Mr. Dale's aunt was dying?" Mrs. Payton said.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Holmes frowned. She was, as she often said, a very busy woman; she -kept house, made calls, had "fittings," shopped, and read the -newspapers. She did these things well and thoroughly, for, as her -granddaughter had once said, she "was no fool." She was shrewd, capable, -energetic, and entirely a woman of the world. Her daughter's social -seclusion and mental apathy amazed and irritated her. But intelligent -and busy as she was, she had leisure for one thing: <i>Fear</i>. She never -said of what. Nor would she, if she could help it, allow the name of her -Fear to be mentioned. "I always run away if people talk of unpleasant -things!" she used to say, sharply. The mere reference to Mr. Dale's aunt -made her pull her stole about her shoulders, and clutch for bags and -card-cases that were always sliding off a steep and slippery lap.</p> - -<p>"Why, Mama, you mustn't go," Mrs. Payton remonstrated, "you've just—"</p> - -<p>"I only stopped a minute to say that if you don't keep Freddy in order, -she will disgrace us all," Mrs. Holmes said, nervously; "but you keep -talking about unpleasant things! I am all heart, and I can't bear to -hear about other people's troubles."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton understood; she gave her mother a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>pitiful look. ("I believe -she'd like to live to be a hundred!" she thought; "whereas, if it wasn't -for poor Mortimore I'd be glad to go; I'm so—tired. And Freddy wouldn't -miss me.") All the while she was talking in her kind voice, of living, -not dying; of her intention of starting in early this year on her -Christmas presents—"I get perfectly worn out with them each Christmas!" -Of her cook's impertinence—"servants are really impossible!" Of Flora's -low-spiritedness—"Miss Carter says she's simply wild to get married, -but I can't think so; Flora is so refined."</p> - -<p>"Human nature isn't very refined," Mrs. Holmes said.</p> - -<p>"Miss Carter says she wants to take music lessons."</p> - -<p>"That's terribly refined," Mrs. Holmes said, satirically.</p> - -<p>"It's absurd," her daughter declared, with annoyance; "music lessons! -Rather different from the time I went to housekeeping—then, servants -worked! I gave Flora a lovely embroidered collar the other day; and yet, -the next thing I knew, Anne told me she was crying her eyes out down in -the coal-cellar. I went right down to the cellar, and said, 'You <i>must</i> -tell me what's the matter.' But all I could get out of her was that she -was tired of living. Miss Carter says Anne says that Flora's young man -has married somebody else, and she—"</p> - -<p>"Don't mumble! It's almost impossible to hear you," her mother broke in; -"as for servants, there are no such things nowadays. They have men -callers, a thing my mother never tolerated! And they don't dream of -being in at ten. My seventh cook in five months comes to-morrow."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p><p>"Don't you think you are rather strict—I mean about hours, and beaux, -and all that sort of thing? My three all have beaux—only poor Flora's -don't seem very faithful. Mama, don't you think you ought to see an -aurist? You really are a little—"</p> - -<p>"Not at all! I hear perfectly;—except when people mumble. And I shall -never change; my way of keeping house is the right way, so why should I -change?"</p> - -<p>"I couldn't keep my girls a week if I were as strict as you," Mrs. -Payton ventured.</p> - -<p>"It wouldn't be much loss, my dear!" the older woman said; she ran a -white-gloved finger along the top of the piano beside her, and held it -up, with a dry laugh. "You could eat off the floor in my house; but you -never were much of a housekeeper. However, I didn't come to talk about -servants; I came to tell you that I am going to call on those cousins of -Mr. Weston's, and explain that at any rate <i>I</i> don't approve of my -granddaughter's going into business!"</p> - -<p>"I'm sure I don't, either!" poor Mrs. Payton protested. "I am dreadfully -distr—"</p> - -<p>"Why don't you tell her it isn't <i>done</i>? Why do you allow it?" Mrs. -Holmes demanded.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton raised protesting hands: "'Allow' Freddy?"</p> - -<p>"If you'd stop her allowance, you'd stop her nonsense. That is what I -would do if a daughter of mine cut such didos!"</p> - -<p>"I can't—she's of age. You can't control girls nowadays," Mrs. Payton -sighed.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p><p>"She ought to be married," said Mrs. Holmes, clutching at the back of a -gilt chair as she got on to her shaking old legs; "though I can't -imagine any nice man wanting to marry a girl who talks as she does. -Maria Spencer told me she heard that Fred said that men ought not to be -allowed to marry unless they had a health certificate."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton gasped with horror. "Mama! are you <i>sure</i>? I can't believe— -What <i>are</i> we coming to?"</p> - -<p>"It mortified me to death," said Mrs. Holmes. ("Oh, do pick up that -card-case for me!) I wish Arthur Weston would marry her, but I suppose -he never got over that Morrison girl's behavior? No; the real trouble -is, you insist on living in this out-of-the-way place! Oh, yes, I know; -poor Mortimore. Still, the men won't come after her here, because it -looks as if she had no money—that, and her queerness. Really, you ought -to try to get her settled. You ought to move over to the Hill; but you -love that poor, brainless creature up-stairs more than you do Fred!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton stiffened. "I love both my children just the same; and I -can't discuss Mortimore, Mama, with anybody. As for being brainless, -Doctor Davis always said, 'The intellect is <i>there</i>; but it is veiled.'" -The tears brimmed over. "You don't understand a mother's feelings, -Mama."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Holmes shrugged her shoulders and brushed a powdered cheek against -her daughter's worn face. "Good-by. Of course, you never take any -advice—I'm used to that! If I wasn't the warmest-hearted creature in -the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> world I should be very cross with you. I suppose you are terribly -lonely without Freddy?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, terribly," said Mrs. Payton.</p> - -<p>When Mrs. Holmes had gone, teetering uncertainly down the front steps to -her carriage, Freddy's mother, pausing a moment in the hall to make sure -that Mr. Andrew Payton's silk hat had been dusted, went heavily -up-stairs and sat down in her big cushioned chair. She wished that she -had something to do. Of course, there was that new puzzle—but sometimes -the thought of a puzzle gave her a qualm of repulsion, the sort of -repulsion one feels at the sight of the drug that soothes and disgusts -at the same moment. The household mending was a more wholesome anodyne; -but there was very little of that; she had gone all through Freddy's -stockings the day before, and found only one thin place. To-day there -seemed nothing to do but sit in her soft chair and think of Freddy's -shocking talk and how unkind Mrs. Holmes was about Mortimore. She knew, -in the bottom of her heart, that her son's presence was painful to -everybody except herself; she knew that Freddy didn't like to have -people call, for fear they might see him, and that her reluctance dated -back to her childhood. "But suppose she doesn't like it, what has that -got to do with it?" Morty's mother thought, angrily; "it's a question of -duty. Mama doesn't seem to remember that Freddy ought to do her duty!" -It came over Mrs. Payton, with a thrill of pride, that she herself had -always done her duty. Here, alone, with everything silent on the other -side of the bolted door, she could allow <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>herself to think how well she -had done it! To Mortimore, first and foremost—she paused there, with a -pang of annoyance at her mother's words: "I do <i>not</i> love him best!" she -declared. She did her duty to Freddy, just as much as to Morty. When -Fred had scarlet fever no mother could have been more devoted. She -hadn't taken her clothes off for four days and nights! Her supreme -dutifulness, however, a dutifulness of which she had always been acutely -conscious, was in enduring Andrew's behavior. "Some women wouldn't have -stood it," she thought, proudly. But what a good wife she had been! She -had let him have his own way in everything. When he was cross, she had -been silent. When he was drunk, she had wept—silently, of course. When -he had done other things, of which anonymous letters had informed her, -she had still been silent;—but she had been too angry to weep. She -shivered involuntarily to think what would have happened if she had not -been silent—if she had dared to remonstrate with him! For Andrew -Payton's temper had been as celebrated as the brains which had once -filled the now empty hat. "Some wives would have left him," she told -herself; "but I always did my duty! Nobody ever supposed that -I—<i>knew</i>." When Andrew died, and her friends were secretly rejoicing -over her release, how careful she had been to wear the very deepest -crape! "I didn't go out of the house, even to church, for three weeks, -and I didn't use a plain white handkerchief for two years," she -thought—then flushed, for, side by side with her satisfaction at her -exemplary conduct was a rankling memory—a memory which made her -constantly tell herself, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> everybody else, that she "loved both her -children just the same." The remorse—for it amounted to that—began a -few weeks after Mr. Payton's death, when Freddy, listening to her -mother's pride in the black-bordered handkerchief, had flung out: "If -you told the truth, you'd use a flag for a handkerchief, and you'd go to -church to return thanks!"</p> - -<p>There had been a dreadful scene between the mother and daughter that -day.</p> - -<p>"As for 'mourning' him," Andrew Payton's daughter said, "you don't. It's -a lie to smother yourself in that horrid, sticky veil. You are mighty -glad to get rid of him! You were as afraid as death of him, and you -didn't love him at all. All this talk about 'mourning' is rot."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton cowered as if her daughter had struck her: "Oh, how can you -be so wicked!"</p> - -<p>"Is it wicked to tell the truth?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton clasped and unclasped her hands: "I did my duty! But do you -suppose I've been <i>happy</i>?" Her breath caught in a sob. "I've lived in -hell all these years, just to make a home for you! I did my duty."</p> - -<p>"I should have thought 'duty' would have made you leave him," Frederica -said; "hell isn't a very good home for a child." She was triumphantly -aware that she had said something smart; her mother's wincing face -admitted it. "I suppose you were afraid to make a break while he was -alive," she said, "but why not tell the truth now?"</p> - -<p>Already the consciousness of self-betrayal had swept over Andy Payton's -wife; her face flamed with anger. "You had no business to make me say a -thing like that!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> You only tell the truth to hurt my feelings. <i>You are -just like Andrew!</i>" She looked straight at her daughter, her eyes fierce -with candor. "I love Mortimore best," she said, in a whisper.</p> - -<p>For a single instant they stared at each other like two strangers. The -mother was the first to come to herself. "I—I didn't mean that, Freddy. -I love you both alike. But it was wicked to speak so of your father."</p> - -<p>"I was a beast to hurt your feelings!" Frederica said; "and I don't in -the least mind your loving Mortimore best. But what I said about Father -is true; his being my father doesn't alter the fact that he was horrid. -Mother, you <i>know</i> he was horrid! Don't let's pretend, at any rate to -each other."</p> - -<p>Her face twitched with eagerness to be understood; she tried to put her -arm around her mother; but Mrs. Payton turned a rigid cheek to her lips; -and instantly Fred lapsed back into contempt of unreality. The fact was, -the deed was done. Each had told the other the truth. Mother and -daughter had both seen the flash of the blade of fact as it cut pretense -between them. Never again would Mrs. Payton's vanity over duty done dare -to raise its head in her daughter's presence: Freddy knew that, so far -as her married life went, duty had been cowardly acquiescence. Never -again would Frederica be able to fling at her mother her superior -morality: Mrs. Payton knew she was cruel, knew she was "just like her -father."... Like Andy Payton! She ground her teeth with disgust, but -she could not deny it. She was so truthful that she saw the Truth; saw -her father's intelligence in her own clear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> mind; his ability in hers; -his meanness in her ruthless smartness in proving a point. She hated him -for these things—but she hated herself more.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton told Arthur Weston of this revealing scene; but her -confession confined itself to her remorse for having said she loved one -child more than the other. "Of course I love them just <i>exactly</i> the -same, but Freddy was wicked to speak disrespectfully of her father."</p> - -<p>Then Frederica poured her contrition into his pitying ears.</p> - -<p>"I was a beast, but I was not a liar."</p> - -<p>"It isn't necessary to be a beast, to be truthful," he reminded her.</p> - -<p>"I made her cry," she said. "Father used to do that. Do—do you think -I'm like him?"</p> - -<p>"Like your father? Good Lord, no!" he said, in horrified haste; then -apologized. "I—I mean, Mr. Payton was a very able man, I had great -respect for his brains; but he was—severe."</p> - -<p>"'Severe'? Well, I'm 'severe,' I suppose? No; the trouble with me is, -I'm hideously truthful—<i>and I like to be</i>."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> - -<p>The ridiculous part of Fred's dash for freedom was that she actually -picked up a client or two! Of course, her commissions did not quite pay -for the advertising that brought the clients—"But what difference does -that make?" she demanded.</p> - -<p>Arthur Weston, who had come up to the "office" on the tenth floor to -check over a bill for her, said, "Oh, no difference, of course. You -remind me of the old lady, Fred, who bought eggs for twenty-four cents a -dozen and sold them for twenty-three cents. And when asked how she could -afford to do that, said it was because she sold so many of them."</p> - -<p>"I don't care," she said, doggedly; "when you begin you've got to put up -something. I'm putting up my time. If I come out even—"</p> - -<p>"You won't," he prophesied.</p> - -<p>"Your old dames are coming to-morrow," she said. She had fastened Zip to -the umbrella-rack and was sitting on her office table, showing a candid -and very pretty leg in a thin silk stocking; she looked at him with the -unselfconscious gaze of a child.</p> - -<p>"They are to arrive at five, and I'm scared to death for fear that the -walk to the Episcopal church is six feet short<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> of half a mile! I wish I -had a motor to run around and look at places. Don't you think, as an -investment, I could have a motor?"</p> - -<p>"I do not!" he said. "Maitland made that alarming suggestion, and I told -him not to put such ideas into your head."</p> - -<p>"He's on the track of three Ohio girls who want five rooms and a bath, -for light housekeeping, furnished. He's going to haul me round in his -go-cart to look at some flats. Trouble is, I can't charge my full -commission—they're poor. Students at the College of Elocution. Why do -girls always want to elocute?"</p> - -<p>"Why do they want to run real-estate offices? It's the same thing. -Strikes me Howard hauls you round in his go-cart a good deal."</p> - -<p>She shrieked with laughter. "Nothing doing! Nothing doing! I see your -little hopeful thought. You've got me on your shoulders, like the aged -Anchises, and you hoped that Howard might come to the rescue. Mr. -Weston, I suppose your aunts, or cousins, or whatever they are, think -I'm a freak?"</p> - -<p>"Well, you are," he said; "I'll tell you what they think: they think -(not having seen you) that you are a 'sweet girl who is doing something -very kind for two old ladies.'"</p> - -<p>"A 'sweet girl'! Me, a 'sweet girl'?"</p> - -<p>"Don't worry. You're not."</p> - -<p>"I suppose they think I am doing it to please you? Very likely they -think I'm trying to catch you," she said, chuckling.</p> - -<p>He looked at her drolly: "Well, you've caught me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> You are a perfect -nuisance, Fred, but you do serve to kill time."</p> - -<p>She slipped down from the table, her high-heeled, low-cut shoes clicking -sharply on the floor, and, going over to the window, peered down into -the cañon of the street. Zip scrabbled up, leaped the length of his -leash, jumped, pounced, then put his nose on the floor between his paws -and wagged his hindquarters. "No, sir!" she told him, "not yet!" And he -crouched down again, patiently curling a furtive tongue over the toe of -her shoe. "Howard was to come round for me in his car at four," she -said. "Zip! Stop licking my shine off! I hate unpunctual people." Coming -back to her caller, she fumbled in the pocket of her coat for her -cigarette-case. "Have one?"</p> - -<p>He helped himself and approved the quality.</p> - -<p>"I offered Mr. Tait one," she said, "and his hair began to curl!"</p> - -<p>"My hair is perfectly straight."</p> - -<p>"That's the beauty of you. Yet Tête-à-tête couldn't have given a reason -for his horror, to save his life."</p> - -<p>"I could."</p> - -<p>She was plainly disappointed in him. "I thought better of you than that! -There's no 'right' or 'wrong' about it."</p> - -<p>"No, of course there isn't," he agreed; and she applauded him. "But -there is a very excellent reason, all the same, why a girl shouldn't -smoke."</p> - -<p>"What?" she demanded.</p> - -<p>"Makes her less agreeable to kiss."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'll wait till somebody wants to kiss me," she said, gayly; "when -they do, I'll give up cigarettes—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> take to a pipe!" She pulled down -the top of her desk and slipped the loop of the puppy's leash on her -wrist. "As for smoking," she confessed, "I'm not awfully keen on it. -Sometimes I forget to open my cigarette-case for days! But I have just -as much <i>right</i> to do it as you have."</p> - -<p>The defiance made him laugh. "That's like your sex, insisting that, -because we make fools of ourselves, you will make fools of yourselves. -That's your principle in demanding an unlimited suffrage."</p> - -<p>But Fred was not listening. "I'm afraid you must clear out," she said; -"Howard must be on hand by this time."</p> - -<p>"I wonder when you'll earn the cost of that desk?" he mused, and looked -about the office, with its one big window that muffled the roar of the -city ten stories below, and framed, black against a lowering sky, the -far-off circle of the hills. It was a gaunt little room, with its desk -and straight chairs, and its walls hung with real-estate maps. A vision -of Mrs. Payton's fire-lit upholstery flashed into his mind, and made him -smile. What a contrast! "But this interests Fred," he thought; "and the -petticoated easy-chairs don't. And the only thing that makes life -endurable is an interest." He wondered, vaguely, what interests he had -himself. Certainly his trustee accounts were not very vital interests! -It occurred to him, watching Fred thrust some long and vicious pins -through a very rakish hat, that when she settled down and married -Maitland he would lose a distinct interest. "I'll have to transfer it to -her infants," he thought, cynically; "I suppose I'll be godfather to the -lot of 'em, and she and Howard, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> the privacy of connubial bliss, will -speculate as to how much I'll leave 'em— Damned if I leave them -anything!" he ended, with a flare of temper.</p> - -<p>"Come on," said Fred.</p> - -<p>They went down-stairs together, and waited in the cold for five minutes -until Howard came, brakes on, against the curb, in a great hurry, but -not in the least apologetic.</p> - -<p>"I stopped to look at some shells at Beasley's," he vouchsafed as Fred -was climbing into the car; then opened his throttle, and Mr. Weston, -standing on the corner, watched them leap away down the crowded street.</p> - -<p>"Look at him trying to cut in ahead of everybody!" he reflected; "but -she thinks he's perfect."</p> - -<p>If Fred believed her cavalier perfect, that did not keep her from -criticizing his driving. Howard, too, was entirely frank, and told her -her nose was red. After that they talked about the Ohio girls, and when -they reached South G Street, leaving Zip on guard in the auto, he went -all over the flat with her, and said the kitchenette was a slick place, -but the bath-room was small—"and dark," he objected, following her in, -and peering about at the plumbing. Then they decided that they had just -time to whiz around to the apartment she had arranged for Arthur -Weston's cousins. "They are to come to-morrow," she said.</p> - -<p>If Mrs. Payton had seen her Freddy that afternoon, she would hardly have -known her. No girl of Mrs. Payton's youth could have been more efficient -as to dust; and certainly few young ladies of that golden time would -have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> made better arrangements for storing away the kindling, nor would -they have trampled a negligent plumber more completely underfoot than -did Frederica Payton. She had sent Howard flying in his car to bring the -man, and she stood over him until he finished his job; then packed him -and his kit out of the apartment and washed his horrid finger-marks off -the white paint. In the parlor, she sat down on the sofa, drawing up her -feet and snuggling back against the cushions.</p> - -<p>"This is mighty nice," she said, looking around with a satisfaction as -old as the cave-dweller's who hung skins on dripping walls and spread -rushes over stone floors.</p> - -<p>Howard, sprawling luxuriously in an arm-chair, regarded her with -admiration. "It's funny that you can do <i>this</i> sort of thing," he waved -an appreciative hand at the details of curtains and table-covers.</p> - -<p>She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm in it for loot. If I'd thought they'd -wanted a silk hat in the hall, I would have got it for 'em."</p> - -<p>Howard roared. "That's where a woman's instinct comes in. I couldn't -have fussed."</p> - -<p>"Cut out woman's instinct," she commanded; "there's no such thing. To -try to please a customer is only common sense. As for me, I hate all -this domestic drool of tidies." And they both believed that she did!</p> - -<p>They sat there—or, at least, Maitland sat, and Frederica reclined, for -nearly an hour; the empty flat, the wintry dusk, the innumerable -cigarettes, all fitted into their talk....</p> - -<p>At first Howard told her about the shells he had seen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> at Beasley's. "I -bought a <i>gloria-matis</i>," he said; "cost like the devil!"</p> - -<p>Frederica frowned. "I don't see how you can bother with shells when the -world is just buzzing with real things! For instance, Smith has come out -for votes for women. Isn't that splendid?"</p> - -<p>"He'd come out for votes for Judas Iscariot if it would put him in -office," he said, sharply; "and let me tell you, Fred, research work, in -any department of science, helps the world, finally, a blamed-sight more -than most of this hot air that the reformers turn on. It isn't so showy, -but one single man like Pasteur is of more permanent value than all the -Smiths in our very corrupt legislature, boiled down!"</p> - -<p>"Peeved?" she said, good-naturedly. "Why don't you say 'one single woman -like Madame Curie'? Well, buy your old shells, if you want to!"</p> - -<p>"I will," he said, grinning. "How's business?"</p> - -<p>When she announced some small success, he said, wonderingly, "You are -the limit!" And added what he thought of her pluck and her intelligence: -"I never knew a woman like you!"</p> - -<p>"All women are like me—when you let 'em out."</p> - -<p>"No, they're not!" he contradicted, with admiring rudeness.</p> - -<p>The rudeness pleased her, as, no doubt, the male cave-dweller's candor -of fist or foot pleased the female cave-dweller. His praise and wonder -were like wine to her. She wanted more of it. Curled up on the sofa, she -grew more and more daring in her talk; her face, flushing with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> -excitement, was vividly handsome, and her mind was as vivid as her face; -he could hardly keep up with her mind! She was an Intelligence to him, -rather than a woman; and that was why he was totally unaware of anything -unusual in the situation—the darkness and the solitude. There was -absolutely no self-consciousness in him.</p> - -<p>With her it was different—she was acutely self-conscious. Once a woman, -bred in the tepid reticences of propriety, takes the plunge into free -talk, the very tingle and exhilaration of the shock makes her strike out -into still deeper water.... She talked about herself; of her life at -home; of Mortimore—"He ought to have been killed when he was born," she -said; "but, of course, he ought never to have been born."</p> - -<p>"Of course," Howard said, gravely.</p> - -<p>"It all came from ignorance on the part of women," she explained. "In -Mother's day, people confused innocence with ignorance—and as a result, -Mortimores were born. What do you think? The day Mother was married, her -father said to her (she told me this herself!), 'Remember, Ellen, your -husband's past life is none of your business.' Think of that! And poor -Mother didn't know enough to know that it was the one thing that was her -business!"</p> - -<p>Her hearer concealed his embarrassed knowledge of that "past life" by -nodding and frowning.</p> - -<p>"From Mother's point of view," Frederica went on, contemptuously, "every -vital thing is indelicate—I mean indecent," she corrected herself, with -the satisfaction of finding a more striking word; "according to people -like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> Mother, a really refined baby would think it improper to be born!"</p> - -<p>He laughed uproariously; he wished he could repeat that to Laura Childs, -but of course he couldn't. However, the fellows would appreciate it. "As -for babies," Fred said, with a shrug, "there's going to be lots of -reform along that line. To merely rear children is a pretty poor job for -an intellectual being. Did I tell you what I pulled off in a speech at -our club?... '<i>The child is the jailer that has kept woman in prison.</i>' -Don't you think that's pretty well put?"</p> - -<p>"Bully," he said.</p> - -<p>Then she told him that she had found a bungalow out on the north side of -the lake—"the unfashionable side; that place they call Lakeville; all -camps. You know? It's just beyond Laketon, where the nice, useless rich -people go." She was going to hire it for the summer, she said, and take -occasional days off from business, and get up a rattling good speech on -woman suffrage—"and sex-slavery. The abolishment of that is what we're -really working for, and it will come when we face Truth! Until now, -women have been fed up on lies." She would live by herself: "I don't -mean to have even a maid; I'm going to be on my own bat. I suppose -Grandmother will throw a fit; she'll say, 'It isn't <i>done</i>!' That's -Grandmother's climax of horror. She'd have said it to every Reformer who -ever lived."</p> - -<p>"You don't mean to say you'll stay there at night, all alone?" he said, -astonished.</p> - -<p>"Of course. Why not?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p><p>"Won't you be frightened?"</p> - -<p>"Frightened? What of? Would <i>you</i> be frightened?"</p> - -<p>When he was obliged to admit that he would not be what you'd call -frightened, "but a girl—"</p> - -<p>"Rot! Why should a girl be frightened? I shall take a revolver."</p> - -<p>After that, naturally, Feminism became the engrossing theme, bringing -with it, as usual, those shallow generalizations that so often belittle -this vital and terrible subject, even as creeds sometimes belittle -Religion. To Fred's mind, as to many serious minds, Feminism had a -religious significance; but she did not know—arrogance never does -know!—the stigma her conceit put upon her cause.</p> - -<p>"Look at the unrest of women, everywhere. I don't mean the agitation for -suffrage;—that is just a symptom of it. It is yeast," she said, with -passion; "yeast! We can't help it; something is fermenting; something is -pushing us. All kinds of women feel it. I know, because I go round to -the factories and talk to the girls at their noon hour, trying to get -them to organize—that's the only way we can get the men to do what we -want. Organization! Women have got to get together! I've made a -door-to-door canvass for our league, and I came up against this—this, I -don't know what to call it! this <i>stirring</i>, among women. Every woman -(except fat old dames whose minds stopped growing when they had their -first baby) is stirred, somehow. Twenty years from now the women who are -girls to-day won't be putting picture puzzles together for want of -something better to do." The contempt in her voice revealed nothing to -Howard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> Maitland, who scarcely knew the poor, dull lady in the -sitting-room on Payton Street; but he wondered why Fred's face suddenly -reddened. "No; girls are doing things! When they get to middle age their -brains won't be chubby. Look at the factories, and shops, and -offices—all full of women! Girls don't have to knuckle down any more, -and 'obey'; they can say 'Thank you for nothing!' and break away, and -support themselves. I tell you what! this life servitude that men have -imposed upon women of looking after the home, is done, <i>done</i>, for good -and all! That sweet creature, 'the devoted wife,' is being labeled 'kept -woman,'—but the ballot is the key to her prison door!"</p> - -<p>"Bully simile," he said.</p> - -<p>"But isn't it all queer—the change in things?" she said, her voice -suddenly vague and wondering; "it's a sort of race movement, with Truth -as the motive power. It's bigger than just—people. Even our -parlor-maid, Flora, feels it! She wants to do something; she doesn't -know what. (I wish she'd put her energies into laundering the -centerpieces better, but I regret to say she has a soul above laundry.) -Yes, things are stirring! It's yeast."</p> - -<p>Such talk was new to Howard. Until now, his young Chivalry had concerned -itself only with women's demand for suffrage—which, as Frederica Payton -had very truly said, is only a symptom, alarming, or amusing, or divine, -as you may happen to look at it—of the world-unrest which she called -"feminism." He was keenly interested.</p> - -<p>"Gosh, Fred," he said, soberly, as she ended with the assertion that -Feminism was the most interesting thing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> that had come into the Race -Conscienceness since humanity began to stand on its hind legs—"gosh, I -take off my hat to you!" His admiration was not so much for the thing -she was trying to do, as for the fact that she was trying! She was -<i>doing</i> something—anything!—instead of sitting around, like most -people, in observant and disapproving idleness. He forgot her snub about -his shells; his eyes were ardent with admiring assent to everything she -said. "You are the limit!" he said, earnestly.</p> - -<p>And she, speaking passionately her poor, bare, ugly facts—all true, but -verging on lies, because no one of them was the whole Truth—going -deeper into her adventure of candor, felt, suddenly, a quickening of the -blood. She had an impulse to put out her hand and touch him—the big, -sprawling, handsome fellow! His voice, agreeing to all she said, made -her quiver into momentary silence, as a harp-string quivers under a -twanging and muting thumb. That his assents, which gave her such acute -satisfaction, were merely her own convictions, thrown back to her by the -sounding-board of his good nature, she did not realize. The intellectual -attraction she felt in him was hers. The other attraction, which was -his, she did not analyze. She realized only that something seemed to -swell in her throat and her breathing quickened. The newness of the -sensation threw her off the track of her argument, which was to prove -that women would save society by facing facts—"facts" being, -apparently, the single one of sex.</p> - -<p>"When I marry," Fred said, "nobody's going to pull that devilish bromide -on me, that the man's past isn't my business. There'll be no Mortimores -in <i>mine</i>! I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> mean to have children who will push the race along to -perfection!"</p> - -<p>"I bet they will!" he said.</p> - -<p>She sat up on the sofa, cross-legged, clasping an ankle with each hand, -her eyes glowing in the dusk. "You've given me a brace!" she said.</p> - -<p>"You've given <i>me</i> one! I'd rather talk to you than any man I know."</p> - -<p>She put out her hand impulsively, and he gripped it until the seal ring -on her little finger cut into the flesh and made her wince with pain and -break away; but with the pain there was a curious pang of pleasure. She -got on her feet with a spring, and, rubbing her bruised finger, gave a -last look about the apartment.</p> - -<p>"I hope the tabbies will like it. Heavens, Howard, do you think they'll -smell cigarette-smoke? I suppose they'd have a fit if they discovered -that the 'sweet girl' smoked cigarettes!"</p> - -<p>"Do they call you a 'sweet girl'?" he said, and roared at the idea.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Weston doesn't like me to smoke. It gave me quite a shock to find -he was such a 'perfect lady.'"</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, he's old. What can you expect? I like you to. You knock off -your ashes like a kid boy."</p> - -<p>"Open the window a second, will you?" Fred said; "that smoke does hang -around.—Howard, I believe they'll think I'm trying to lasso Mr. Weston -into marrying me! Poor old boy, you know when he was young, before the -flood, some girl turned him down, and I understand he's never got over -it. The cousins will think I'm trying to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> catch him on the rebound! -Funny, isn't it, how the elderly unmarried female is always trying to -make other people get married? I think it's a form of envy; sort of -getting what you want by proxy. Men don't do it."</p> - -<p>"Men are not so altruistic," he said.</p> - -<p>Frederica's face bloomed in the darkness, rose-red. They went out to the -elevator, and dropped down to the entrance in silence. Howard, cranking -his car, and getting a slap on the wrist that made him bite off a bad -word between his teeth, thought to himself that Fred Payton was a -stunner!</p> - -<p>He said so that night to Laura Childs, when they were sitting out a -dance at the Assembly. They had talked about his <i>gloria-matis</i>, and she -had thrilled at its cost, and pleaded with him to show it to her. "I'm -crazy to see it! Please!"</p> - -<p>"Fred didn't care a copper about it," he told her, with some amusement. -"She's sort of woozy on reforms."</p> - -<p>Laura nodded. "Fred's great, perfectly great," she said, looking down at -the toe of her slipper, poking out from her pink tulle skirt.</p> - -<p>"She has a man's brain," he said.</p> - -<p>"Now, why do men always say that sort of thing?" Laura objected, her -eyes crinkling good-naturedly. "Brain has no more sex than liver."</p> - -<p>Howard made haste to apologize: "'Course not! I only meant she's awfully -clever, you know."</p> - -<p>Laura agreed, a little wistfully: "I admire Fred awfully. Do you know, -she talked to the girls in the rubber-factory out in Hazelton about the -Minimum Wage? She wanted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> me to go there with her, but I'd promised Jack -McKnight to play tennis. Well, I'm afraid I wouldn't have gone, anyhow," -she added, soberly; "those things bother Father, and it isn't as if I -could accomplish anything, as Freddy can. If anybody asked me to make a -speech, I should simply die. But Fred has no end of sand," Laura ended; -her admiration was as honest as it was humble.</p> - -<p>"Sand?" Howard said; "you bet she has sand! Why, she is going to take a -bungalow out in Lakeville this summer, and live there all by herself. -She wants to read and study, and all that sort of thing."</p> - -<p>"By herself?" said Laura, really startled. "You don't mean without even -a maid?"</p> - -<p>"So she says."</p> - -<p>"Aunt Nelly will never allow it! And, really, it wouldn't be safe. She -ought to take Flora along, at least."</p> - -<p>Upon which Howard boldly tried Fred's own argument: "Why shouldn't she -be alone? She'll have a revolver."</p> - -<p>"I wouldn't do it for a million dollars!" said Laura. "And, besides, -nobody goes to Lakeville; it's awfully common."</p> - -<p>"Fred is above that sort of thing," Howard said. For once the -good-natured Laura was affronted.</p> - -<p>"I don't pretend to be like Fred—" she began, but he interrupted her:</p> - -<p>"You? Of course you're not like Fred! You couldn't do the things she -does!"</p> - -<p>Laura gave him a cool glance: "I promised this dance to Jack McKnight. -Perhaps we'd better start in?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p><p>"I'd like to wring his neck," Howard declared, rising reluctantly.</p> - -<p>When she and Jack were half-way down the room she told him that there -was a new engagement in the air. "The girl's perfectly fine, but the man -makes me tired," said Lolly, lifting her pretty foot in the prettiest -and daintiest kick imaginable.</p> - -<p>"Tell us," Jack entreated, one hand holding hers, and the other spread -over her young shoulder-blades.</p> - -<p>"Oh, it isn't out yet," she said, "and I don't know that it's—really -<i>on</i>—but I bet it—will be—pretty soon!"</p> - -<p>And she tossed her head a little viciously.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> - -<p>The two Misses Graham were very much interested in their real-estate -agent.</p> - -<p>"A <i>girl</i>, to be in business," said the younger sister, doubtfully.</p> - -<p>"It's very nice in her," said the elder sister. "I suppose the Paytons -have lost their money and she has to support the family."</p> - -<p>"She is certainly capable," Miss Mary admitted. "But it does seem -strange for her to work in this way, when she could give music lessons, -for instance."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps she's not musical," Miss Eliza objected. "I hate to have a girl -pounding the piano, when her talent lies in scrubbing floors." Miss -Eliza Graham looked like a frayed old eagle; perhaps because for seventy -years she had flapped unavailing wings against the Graham traditions.</p> - -<p>Those traditions had kept her from the serious study of music, and later -they had "saved" her from marriage with a man who had very little money. -The younger Miss Graham looked, and was, as contented as a pouter-pigeon -teetering about in a comfortable barn-yard. It was Miss Eliza, tall, -thin, piercing-eyed, and sweet-hearted at seventy-two, who had, as she -expressed it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> "dug Mary up," and brought her to town for the winter. -Miss Eliza was for a hotel, but Miss Mary felt that unmarried ladies -should have the dignity of their own roof. "We can always have the -escort of a messenger-boy, if we go out in the evening," she told her -sister, who agreed, her eyes twinkling.</p> - -<p>"Excellent idea. We can spank him if he doesn't behave properly!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, my <i>dear</i> Eliza!" Miss Mary protested, but she smiled indulgently. -Eliza was the most precious thing in the world to the little, plump lady -who made endless excuses to herself, and to everybody else, for "dear -Eliza's ways." It was a "way" of Eliza's to forgive Youth for almost -anything it did....</p> - -<p>"Of course, Youth makes Age uncomfortable," she would concede. "New wine -is very hard on old bottles! But if the bottles burst, it isn't the -fault of the wine, it is the fault of the bottles—<i>for having been -empty</i>!" The significance of those last words was quite lost on Miss -Mary.</p> - -<p>As the two sisters went over their little apartment, and discovered its -possibilities, old Miss Eliza's interest centered in the youth as well -as the sex of their real-estate agent. "Look at that wood-box!" she -said;—"to think of a girl having so much gumption!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear!" said Miss Mary—and pointed a shrinking finger at the stub -of a cigarette on the parlor windowsill, "I thought I smelt smoke; a -workman must have left it."</p> - -<p>But the cigarette was the only fly in the ointment. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> apartment, with -its "art" finishings, electricity, and steam-heat, was to the country -ladies and their one elderly maidservant a miracle of beauty and -convenience.</p> - -<p>"Arthur was wonderfully wise in asking Miss Payton to attend to it for -him," Miss Eliza said.</p> - -<p>"I wonder if—it means anything?" Miss Mary queried, with an arch look. -"After all, he must know her very well, to have told her just what we -wanted—rooms and bath, and all that. It is rather intimate, you know."</p> - -<p>"I <i>hope</i> it means something! I hope he has got over that wicked jilt, -Kate Morrison!"</p> - -<p>"Well, the Paytons are nice people," the younger sister said; "she was a -Holmes, you know."</p> - -<p>They were both eager to see dear Arthur and Miss Payton, for they felt -sure they would know the moment they saw them together whether he had -"got over" Kate. "When people are in love they always betray it," said -Miss Eliza.</p> - -<p>But when Mr. Weston brought Miss Frederica Payton to call, no "love" was -betrayed on either side. In fact, the call was such an astonishing -experience to the two sisters that they quite forgot their sentimental -wonderings. Frederica accepted their thanks and appreciation very -pleasantly, but a little bluntly. Oh, yes, the sunshine in the -dining-room was very nice; she was glad they liked it. But she hoped -they'd survive the jig-saw over-mantel and the awful tiles in the -parlor. "They made me pretty sick," she said.</p> - -<p>"Why, I thought the mantelpiece very artistic," Miss Mary said, blankly.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p><p>"The porcelain bath-tub is dandy," Fred said, with real pride.</p> - -<p>"Dandy?" murmured Miss Eliza.</p> - -<p>"It made me feel as if I could hardly wait for Saturday night to take a -bath," the Real Estate Agent said. The two ladies looked startled—not -at the antique joke, but to refer to bathing in Arthur's presence! "I -mean the tub is bully," Fred explained; "and the plumbing—" Here she -became so specific that her modest old clients grew quite red. She had -been obliged to get a plumber in to work on the trap the afternoon -before they came, but she was sure everything was all right now.</p> - -<p>The door-bell rang at this moment, and while the Misses Graham, -breathless under the shock of Miss Payton's thoroughness, welcomed (of -all people!) old Mrs. Holmes, Fred was able to groan to Arthur Weston, -"Can't we get out?"</p> - -<p>"We cannot," he said, decidedly; "now brace up and be nice to your -grandmother."</p> - -<p>"<i>Oh</i>, Lord!" said Fred; but she was really very nice. She pecked at -Mrs. Holmes's cheek through its white lace veil, and said "Hello, -Grandma! How is anti-suffrage?" as politely as possible.</p> - -<p>Of course, to make things pleasant for Mrs. Holmes, the Misses Graham -repeated all their appreciation of Miss Freddy's efficiency. "She will -make an admirable housekeeper," Miss Mary said, in her gentle way.</p> - -<p>"She ought to," said Frederica's grandmother. "I'm sure I brought her -mother up to know how to keep house! But it is just a fancy of Freddy's -to do this sort of thing;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> she waved a knuckly white glove at the -apartment, which caused Frederica to roll her eyes at Mr. Weston. "Of -course, I know it isn't <i>done</i>, but it's an amusement for her," Mrs. -Holmes explained, "and I have so much sympathy with young people—my -daughter says I am all heart!—that I love to have the child amuse -herself."</p> - -<p>She was trying to preserve the Payton dignity, but she was very nervous; -she could have said it all so much better if that pert creature had not -been sitting there, her knees crossed, and displaying a startling length -of silk stocking. She knew that no sense of propriety would keep Fred -quiet if she took it into her head to contradict anybody, and she was -glad when the two ladies changed the subject, even though it was for the -gunpowdery topic of suffrage, on which, it appeared, the younger Miss -Graham had strong feelings.</p> - -<p>"I am sure female influence is not only more refining, but more -effective than the ballot could possibly be," she said.</p> - -<p>Of course Fred rushed in: "You're an anti?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my dear," Miss Mary said, smiling.</p> - -<p>"To get things done by 'influence' is to revert, it seems to me, to the -methods of the harem," said Fred, earnestly. Frederica was never -flippant on this vital topic of suffrage, unless she was angry. Her -grandmother's retort supplied the anger:</p> - -<p>"Woman's charm will always outweigh woman's ballot," said Mrs. Holmes, -with smiling decision. (She, too, was getting hot inside.)</p> - -<p>"The antis," Fred flung back, "think that all that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> is necessary is to -'sit on the stile, and continue to smile'!"</p> - -<p>"What did you say?" said Mrs. Holmes, frowning. "Young people speak so -indistinctly nowadays! We were taught proper enunciation when I was -young."</p> - -<p>"Woman," said Miss Mary, raising her voice, "is a princess, but her -God-given rule lies in the gentle domain of the home."</p> - -<p>"Gosh!" said Fred—and two of her auditors laughed explosively. But -Frederica was red with wrath. "I've seen the 'princess' exercising her -God-given rule in cleaning the floors of saloons on her hands and knees, -because she had to support the children that her husband had foisted on -her and then deserted. Do you think under such 'gentle circumstances' -her charm would do as much for her as a vote?"</p> - -<p>One does not know just how much of an explosion there would have been if -the elder Miss Graham had not come to the rescue: "Ah, well, there are -so many good reasons on both sides, that I'm glad I don't have to decide -it!" Then she began to talk of old friends in Grafton; but, alas, as a -subject Grafton, too, was somewhat dangerous; old Mr. So-and-so died two -years ago; and Mrs. Black—did Mrs. Holmes remember Mrs. Black? "I am -sorry to say she is very ill," Miss Mary said. The chatter of gossip -was—as it so often is with age—a rehearsal of sickness and death. In -the midst of it Mrs. Holmes clutched at a gold mesh-bag that was -slipping from her steep lap, and tried to rise:</p> - -<p>"I think I must go. (Oh, do pick up that bag, Freddy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> dear.) I am too -tender-hearted," she confessed, "I can't bear to hear unpleasant -things!"</p> - -<p>"Well, let us talk of pleasant things," Miss Eliza said; but she looked -at the frightened old face under the white veil;—"and 'the feet of the -bearers' are coming nearer to her every day!" she thought.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Holmes sat down again, reluctantly. Of course, from the Misses -Graham's point of view, there could be nothing pleasanter for a -grandmother to hear than plaudits of Miss Freddy's efficiency; so they -went back again to that. Dear Arthur had told them how hard she had -worked (again Freddy's eyes rolled toward dear Arthur); engaging -tradesmen, and making the landlord do the necessary repairing.—"Oh, my -dear," Miss Mary interrupted herself, "I meant to warn you that one of -your workmen left a half-smoked cigarette here. I knew you would want to -reprove him. Dear me! in these days, with all the new ideas, the -working-people are very careless. But I feel so strongly our -responsibility to them, that I always tell them of their mistakes."</p> - -<p>"The working-people didn't make any mistake this time," Fred said; "you -mustn't blame the plumber,"—the temptation to get back at her -grandmother was too much for her—"it was my own cigarette." There was a -stunned silence. "Howard Maitland and I were smoking here quite a -while," she said, sweetly. "But I thought I'd aired the room out. I'm -awfully sorry,—cigarette-smoke does hang about so." ("'Amusement'!" she -was saying to herself; "I'll 'amuse' her!")</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Holmes was equal to the occasion. She shook<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> an arch and knobby -finger at her granddaughter. "Naughty girl! But that's one of the things -that is done nowadays," she said; "ladies smoke just as much as -gentlemen, don't they, Mr. Weston?"</p> - -<p>"More," he declared, gayly; but he watched his two cousins. Had they -taken it in that Maitland and Fred had been in the flat together? It had -apparently not struck Mrs. Holmes—or if it had, she chose to ignore it; -she was talking, with a very red face, about all sorts of things. It -seemed a favorable moment to drag his candid ward away, and he did so, -with effusive promises to come again soon—all the time looking out of -the corner of his eye at the Misses Graham's farewell to Fred. Alas, -Miss Mary's were hardly visible.</p> - -<p>But Miss Eliza followed them into the hall, and put a hand on Fred's -arm: "I don't mind the smell of smoke in a room half as much as I do on -a girl's lips," she said, smiling; "they ought to be like roses." Then -she gave the angular young arm a little pat and ran back.</p> - -<p>"What a duck she is!" Fred said, honestly moved; "I wish I hadn't let -out at Grandmother!"</p> - -<p>Her repentance did not soothe Arthur Weston. "I'd like to shake you," he -said, as they got into the elevator.</p> - -<p>"Me? What's your kick? I thought I behaved beautifully! I kissed an inch -of powder off Grandmother's cheek. There's no satisfying you. I supposed -you'd give me a bunch of violets, with 'For a good girl,' on the card. -Don't be an old maid! Even Miss Graham isn't. She's a dear!"</p> - -<p>"I may be an old maid, but you are an imp!" he said. In the taxi, as -they rushed, with open windows, across the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> city back to Payton Street, -he spoke more gravely. "You ought not to have gone wandering around in -vacant apartments with Maitland." He was really annoyed, and showed it.</p> - -<p>Frederica was equally annoyed. "I am a business woman. Howard was -obliging enough to take me around in his car. In the flat we talked for -a while. Why shouldn't we? If he had been a girl, I suppose we could -have sat there until midnight and you would have never peeped!"</p> - -<p>"But may I call your attention to the fact that he's not a girl?"</p> - -<p>"May I call <i>your</i> attention to the fact that there is such a thing, -between men and women, as intellectual relations?" She was getting -angry, and her anger betrayed her self-consciousness.</p> - -<p>"You compel me," he retorted, "to remind you that there are other -relations between men and women which are not markedly intellectual."</p> - -<p>"There're none of that kind in mine, thank you! I—"</p> - -<p>But he interrupted her, dryly: "Of course you know you had no business -to do it. You remind me, Fred, of one of those dirty little boys who put -a firecracker under your chair to make you jump. Look here, it's -unworthy of a 'business woman' to do unconventional things simply -because they are unconventional."</p> - -<p>"I didn't!"</p> - -<p>"You are like all the rest of your sex—self-conscious as hens when they -see an automobile coming! You knew it was queer to shut yourself up -there with that darned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> fool, Maitland, <i>and that's why you loved doing -it</i>," he flung at her. "That's the trouble with women nowadays; not that -they do unusual things, but they are so blamed pleased to be unusual! -And if they only knew it, they don't shock a man at all. They only bore -him to death."</p> - -<p>"I—"</p> - -<p>"But I suppose you can't help it; you are so atrociously young," he -ended, sighing.</p> - -<p>Frederica was almost too angry to speak. "I am old enough to do as I -choose!"</p> - -<p>"Only Youth does as it chooses," he told her. "Reflect upon what I have -said, my dear infant, and profit by it.... Stop at the iron dog!" he -called to the driver. And the next minute Frederica, buffeted by the -high, keen wind, ran past the dog, whose back was ridged with grimy -snow, and, holding on to her hat with one hand, let herself into the -hall with her latch-key.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter with <i>him</i>?" she thought, slamming the front door -behind her; "it isn't his funeral!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> - -<p>At the jar of the banging door, Andy Payton's hat moved slightly on the -hat-rack, and something snarled at the head of the stairs.</p> - -<p>"It's nothing, Morty—only sister," a motherly voice said; and Miss -Carter leaned over the baluster:</p> - -<p>"I'm just bringing him down to his supper; he's a little nervous this -evening."</p> - -<p>"Oh," Fred said, shortly; "well, wait till I get out of the way, -please." She stepped into the unlighted parlor, and stood there in the -darkness, between the piano and the bust of Mr. Andrew Payton; as she -waited, her hand fell on the open keyboard, and she struck a jangling -chord. "Flora has been playing on the sly," she thought; "poor old -Flora!" Then for a moment her fingers were rigid on the keys—the -scrabbling procession was passing through the hall down to the room -where Mortimore's food was given to him. When the door closed behind him -she drew a breath of relief. She never looked at her brother when she -could avoid it. As she went up-stairs she paused on the landing to call -out, "Hello, Mother!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton answered from the sitting-room: "Don't you want some tea, -dear?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p><p>Frederica hesitated; she didn't want any tea, but—"I suppose it -pleases her," she thought, resignedly; and went into the pleasant, -fire-lit room, with its bubbling teakettle and fragrance of Roman -hyacinths blooming on the window-sills. "Finished your puzzle?" she -asked, good-naturedly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton, grateful for a little interest, said: "No; I've been doing -up Christmas presents most of the afternoon. I'm pretty tired! Tying all -those ribbons is dreadfully hard work," she ended, with an air of -achievement that was pathetic or ridiculous, as one might happen to look -at it. Her daughter, glancing at the array of white packages tied with -gay ribbons, did not see the pathos. That slightly supercilious droop of -the lip which always made Mrs. Payton draw back into herself, showed -Fred's opinion of the "hard work"; but she only said, laconically:</p> - -<p>"Mr. Weston took me to call on the old maids. No, I don't want any tea, -thank you."</p> - -<p>"You oughtn't to call them 'old maids'; it isn't respectful."</p> - -<p>"It's what they are—at least, the younger one is. The other one is very -nice. But they are both of 'em of the vintage of 1830."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton was sufficiently acquainted with her daughter's picturesque, -but limited, vocabulary to know what "vintage" meant, so she said: "Oh, -no; they are not so old as that. I don't think Miss Graham is much over -seventy."</p> - -<p>"I waked Miss Mary up!" Frederica said, joyfully.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p><p>"I am sorry for that," Mrs. Payton sighed.</p> - -<p>Fred shrugged her shoulders. "Grandmother will tattle,—yes, she was -there; deaf as a post, and all dolled up like a plush horse;—so I -suppose I might as well tell you just what happened." She told it, -lightly enough. "Old Weston threw fits in the taxi, coming home," she -ended.</p> - -<p>"I should think he might! Freddy, really—"</p> - -<p>Her daughter looked at her with narrowing but not unkind eyes. "I wish I -knew why people fuss so over nothing," she said.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton put her empty cup back on the tray with a despairing sigh: -"If you can't <i>see</i> the impropriety—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course, I see what you call 'impropriety'; what I don't see is -why you call it 'improper.' What constitutes impropriety? The fact that, -as Grandmother says, 'it isn't <i>done</i>'? I could mention a lot of things -that are done, that <i>I</i> would call improper! Wearing nasty false fronts, -as Grandmother does, and silly tight shoes. A thing is true, or it's a -lie. That distinction is worth while. But what you call 'impropriety' -isn't worth bothering about."</p> - -<p>"Truth and falsehood are not the only distinctions in the world. Things -are fitting, or—not."</p> - -<p>"Howard and I talked, in an empty flat," Fred said; "I suppose if it had -been in our parlor, with the Egyptian virgin out in the hall chaperoning -us, it would have been 'fitting'?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton wiped her eyes. "There's no use discussing anything with -you. When <i>I</i> was a young lady, if my mother had reproved—"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p><p>Fred made a discouraged gesture: "Oh, don't let's go back to the dark -ages. As for Howard—I'll see him at my office, if it makes you any -happier."</p> - -<p>"Why can't he call on you in your own house? You cheapen yourself by—"</p> - -<p>"Mother, there's no use! I couldn't stand it. Mortimore—"</p> - -<p>"<i>Frederica!</i>"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton's gesture of command was inescapable. Involuntarily Fred's -lips closed; when her mother spoke to her in that tone, the childish -habit of obedience asserted itself. But it was only for a moment:</p> - -<p>"Of course you don't mind him," she said; "you are fond of him. But you -can't expect me to feel as you do." She drew in her breath with a shiver -of disgust.</p> - -<p>"I love you both just the same!" Mrs. Payton said, emphatically.</p> - -<p>Frederica was not listening. "Oh, by the way," she said, "I've heard of -a little bungalow, at that camp place, Lakeville—you know?—that I can -rent for twenty-five dollars a month. I'm going to hire it for next -summer—rather ahead of time, but somebody might grab it. I want to have -a place to go, when I have two or three days off. I hope you'll come out -sometimes. And—and Miss Carter can bring Morty," she ended, with -generous intention.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton was silent. She was saying to herself, despairingly, "She's -jealous!"</p> - -<p>"Well, I must go and dress," Frederica said, and got herself out of the -room, acutely conscious of her mother's averted face. "'Cheapening' -myself—how silly!" she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> thought, as she closed her own door. When she -took her cigarette-case out of her pocket, Miss Graham's words came into -her mind and she smiled; but she lighted a cigarette and, standing -before her mirror, practised knocking off the ashes. Was it this way? -Was it that way? How does the "kid boy" do it? She tried a dozen ways; -but she could not remember the entirely unconscious gesture which had -pleased Howard Maitland. "How funny and old-fashioned old Miss Graham -was! But quite sweet," she thought. It occurred to her, as she took out -her hair-pins, that Miss Graham's antiquated ideas did not irritate her, -and her mother's did. For a moment she pondered this old puzzle of -humanity: "Why are members of your family more provoking than -outsiders?" After all, Miss Graham, with her "roses," was just as -irrational as Mrs. Payton with her fuss about propriety and -"cheapness"—or Arthur Weston, gassing about "relations which are not -markedly intellectual." She was angry at him, but that phrase made her -giggle. She sat down on the edge of her bed, her brush in her hand, her -hair hanging about her shoulders; it had been very interesting, that -"cheap" and entirely "intellectual" hour alone with Howard in the -darkening flat....</p> - -<p>She put her elbow on her knee, her chin in her hand, and smiled. Of -course she knew what her mother, and Mr. Weston—"poor old boy!"—and -her grandmother, and the Misses Graham all had in the back of their -minds. "Idiots" she said, good-naturedly. If they could have heard the -plain, straight, man-to-man talk in the empty apartment, they would have -discovered that nowadays men and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> girls are not interested in those -<i>un</i>intellectual relations at which her man of business had hinted. She -remembered Howard's look when he said he would rather talk to her than -to any man he knew—and she lifted her head proudly! No girly-girly -compliment could have pleased her as that did. It was just as she had -always said, the right kind of man knows that a woman wants him to talk -horse sense to her, not gush. If the tabbies, and Mr. Weston, and her -mother had heard that talk, they wouldn't worry about sentiment! -Suddenly, she recalled that strange feeling she had had below her -breastbone as she looked at Howard sprawling in the arm-chair. She -remembered her curious impulse to touch him, and the rosy warmth that -seemed to go all over her, like a wave; she thought of that pang of -pleasure when his hand crushed hers so that the seal ring had cut into -the flesh and hurt her. "I wonder—?" she said; and bit her lip. Then -her face reddened sharply; she flung her head up like a wild creature -who feels the grip of the trap.</p> - -<p><i>Love?</i></p> - -<p>For an instant she felt something like fright. "Of course not! He's just -a bully fellow, and I like him. Nothing more; I don't—" She caught a -glimpse of herself in the mirror, and the image held her eye. The vivid, -smiling face, a little thin, with the color hot, just now, on the high -cheek-bones; dark, wavy hair, falling back from a charming brow which, -pathetically enough (for she was only twenty-five), had lines in it. -"Heavens!" she said, "I believe I <i>do</i>!" She laughed, and, jumping to -her feet, shook the mane of hair over her eyes. But before she began to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> -brush it she lifted the hand Howard Maitland had gripped, and kissed it -hard, once—twice!</p> - -<p>"I do—care," she said; "I didn't know it was like this!" She glowed all -over. "<i>I am in love</i>," she repeated, amazed.</p> - -<p>While she tumbled the soft, dark hair into a loose knot on the top of -her head she tried to whistle, but her lips were unsteady. She did not -know herself with this quiver all through her, and the sudden stinging -in her eyes, and something swelling and tightening in her throat. She -forgot the shocked old maids, and the disgusted trustee. She was in -love! She began to sing, but broke off at a faint knock.</p> - -<p>"Dinner's ready, Miss Freddy."</p> - -<p>"Come in, Flora," Frederica called out; "and hook me up." She smiled so -gaily at the silent creature, not even scolding when the slim, cold -finger-tips touched her warm shoulder, that the woman smiled a little, -too. "I thought this was your afternoon out?" Fred said, kindly.</p> - -<p>"I 'ain't got no place in partic'lar to go. Anyway, I knew your ma -wasn't goin' to be in, and—"</p> - -<p>"I bet you played on the piano," Frederica said, smiling at herself in -the glass.</p> - -<p>"Well, yes'm, I did," the woman confessed. "I picked out the whole of -'Rock of Ages.'"</p> - -<p>"Flora! Don't look so low-spirited; I believe you're in love. Have you -got a new beau? I've been told that people are always low-spirited when -they're in love."</p> - -<p>Flora simpered; "Ah, now, Miss Freddy!"</p> - -<p>"Come! Who is he? You've got to tell me!"</p> - -<p>"Well, Mr. Baker's got a new man on. That there snide<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> Arnold's been -bounced. Good riddance! He never did 'mount to nothing. Me, I'm sorry -for the girl he married; she'll just slave and git no wages. That's what -marryin' Arnold'll do for her!"</p> - -<p>"That's what marrying any man does for a woman," Miss Payton instructed -her; "a wife is a slave."</p> - -<p>But Flora's face had softened into abject sentimentality. "This here new -man, Sam, <i>he's</i> something like. Light, he is; and freckled." Then her -face fell: "Anne says he's got a girl on the Hill. Don't make no -difference to me, anyhow. It's music I want. If I was young, I'd git an -education, and go to one of them conservmatories and learn to play on -the piano."</p> - -<p>"I'll give you some lessons, one of these days," Fred promised her, -good-naturedly. "Poor old Flora," she said to herself, as the maid, like -a fragile brown shadow, slipped out of the room. "'He's got a girl on -the Hill'! I wonder how I'd feel if Howard had 'a girl on the Hill'?" -Again the tremor ran through her; she could not have said whether it was -pain or bliss. "I certainly must teach Flora her notes," she said, -trying to get back to the commonplace. Then she forgot Flora, and, -bending forward, looked at herself in the glass for a long moment. "I'll -get that hat at Louise's," she said, turning out the gas; "it's the -smartest thing I've struck in many moons."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> - -<p>Mr. Weston, riding home in the taxi, was not without some astonishment -at himself. Why was he so keenly annoyed at Fred's bad taste? Why had he -such an ardent desire to kick Maitland? He might have gone further in -his self-analysis and discovered that, though he wanted to kick Howard, -he did not want to haul him over the coals, as a man of his years might -well have done—merely to give a friendly tip as to propriety to a -youngster whom he had seen put into breeches. Had he discovered this -reluctance in himself, Arthur Weston might have decided that his -indignation was based on a sense of personal injury—which has its own -significance in a man of nearly fifty who concerns himself in the -affairs of a woman under thirty. The fact was that, though he thought of -himself only as her grandfatherly trustee, Frederica Payton was every -day taking a larger place in his life. She amused him, and provoked him, -and interested him; but, most of all, the pain of her passionate -futilities roused him to a pity that made him really suffer. He could -not bear to see pain. Briefly, she gave him something to think about.</p> - -<p>His displeasure evaporated overnight, and when he went up to her office -the next morning he was ready to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> apologize for his words in the taxi. -But it was not necessary. Fred, in the excitement of receiving a letter -asking her fee for hunting up rooms, had quite forgotten that she had -been scolded.</p> - -<p>"I think I'd better advertise in all the daily papers!" she announced, -eagerly.</p> - -<p>"You're a good fellow," he said; "you take your medicine and don't make -faces."</p> - -<p>"Make faces? Oh, you mean because you called me down last night? Bless -you, if it amuses you, it doesn't hurt me!"</p> - -<p>The sense of her youth came over him in a pang of loneliness, and with -it, curiously enough, an impulse of flight, which made him say, -abruptly: "I shall probably go abroad in January. Can I trust you not to -advertise yourself into bankruptcy before I get back?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mr. Weston," she said, blankly; "how awful! Don't go!"</p> - -<p>"You don't need me," he assured her; but a faint pleasure stirred about -his heart.</p> - -<p>"Need you? Why, I simply couldn't live without you! In the first place, -my business would go to pot, without your advice; and then—well, you -know how it is. You are the only person who speaks my language. -Grandmother talks about my vulgarities, and Aunt Bessie talks about my -stomach, and the Childs cousins talk about my vices—but nobody talks -about my interests, except you. Don't go and leave me," she pleaded with -him.</p> - -<p>The glow of pleasure about his heart warmed into actual happiness. -"Please don't think I approve of you!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p><p>She looked at him with her gray, direct eyes, and nodded. "I know you -don't. But I don't mind;—you understand."</p> - -<p>"But," he said, raising a rueful eyebrow, "how shall I make Cousin Mary -'understand' your performances?"</p> - -<p>"By staying at home and keeping me in order! Don't go away."</p> - -<p>It was the everlasting feminine: "<i>I need you!</i>" There was no "new -woman" in it; no self-sufficiency; nothing but the old, dependent -arrogance that has charmed and held the man by its flattering -selfishness ever since the world began.</p> - -<p>He was opening the office door, but she laid a frankly anxious hand on -his arm. "Promise me you won't go!"</p> - -<p>He would not commit himself. "It depends; if you get married, and shut -up shop, you won't want a business adviser."</p> - -<p>"I sha'n't get married!" she said, and blushed to her temples.</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston saw the color, and his face, as he closed her door and stood -waiting for the elevator, dulled a little. "She's head over ears in love -with him. Well, he's a very decent chap; it's an excellent match for -her,—Oh," he apologized to the elevator boy, on suddenly finding -himself on the street floor; "I forgot to get off! You'll have to take -me up again." In his own office he was distinctly curt.</p> - -<p>"I am very busy," he said, checking his stenographer's languid remark -about a telephone call; "I am going to write letters. Don't let any one -interrupt me"—and the door of his private office closed in her face.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p><p>"What's the matter with <i>him</i>?" the young lady asked herself, idly; -then took out her vanity glass and adjusted her marcel wave.</p> - -<p>Arthur Weston put his feet on his desk, and reflected. Why had he said -what he did about going to Europe? When he went up to see Fred, nothing -had been farther from his mind than leaving America. Well, he knew why -he had said it.... Flight! Self-preservation! "Preposterous," he said, -"what am I thinking of? I'm fond of her, and I'm confoundedly sorry for -her, but that's all. Anyhow, Maitland settles the question. And if he -wasn't in it—she's twenty-five and I'm forty-six." He got up and walked -aimlessly about the room. "I've cut my wisdom teeth," he thought, with a -dry laugh, and wondered where the lady was who had superintended that -teething. For Kate's sake he had taken a broken heart to Europe. The -remembrance of that heartbreak reassured him; the feeling he had about -Fred wasn't in the least like his misery of that time. He gave a shrug -of relief; it occurred to him that he would go and see some Chinese rugs -which had been advertised in the morning paper; "might give her one for -a wedding present?—oh, the devil! Haven't I anything else to think of -than that girl?" He stood at the window for a long time, his hands in -his pockets, looking at three pigeons strutting and balancing on a -cornice of the Chamber of Commerce. "She interests me," he conceded; -then he smiled,—"and she wants me to stay at home and 'take care of -her'!" Well, there was nothing he would like better than to take care of -Fred. The first thing he would do would be to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> shut up that ridiculous -plaything of an "office" on the tenth floor. Billy Childs put it just -right: "perfec' nonsense!" Then, having removed "F. Payton" from the -index of the Sturtevant Building, they—he and Fred—would go off, to -Europe. He followed this vagrant thought for a moment, then reddened -with impatience at his own folly: "What an idiot I am! I'm not the least -in love with her, but I'll miss her like the devil when she marries that -cub Maitland. She's a perpetual cocktail! She'd be as mad as a hornet if -she knew that I never took her seriously." He laughed, and found himself -wishing that he could take her in his arms, and tease her, and scold -her, and make her "mad as a hornet." Again the color burned in his -cheeks; he would do something else than tease her and scold her; he -would most certainly kiss her. "Oh, confound it!" he said to himself, -angrily; "I'm getting stale." He did <i>not</i> want to kiss her! He only -wanted to make her happy, and be himself amused. "That is the difference -between now and ten years ago," he analyzed. "Kate never 'amused' me; -oh, how deadly serious it all was!" He speculated about Kate quite -comfortably. She was married; very likely she had half a dozen brats. -Again he contrasted his feeling for Fred with that brief madness of -pain, and was cheered; it was so obvious that he was merely fond of her. -How could he help it—she was so honest, so unselfconscious! Besides, -she was pathetic. Her harangues upon subjects of which she was (like -most of mankind) profoundly ignorant, were funny, but they were -touching, too, for her complacent certainties would so inevitably bring -her into bruising<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> contact with Life. "She thinks 'suffrage' a -cure-all," he thought, amused and pitiful,—"and she's so desperately -young!" In her efforts to reform the world, she was like some small -creature buffeting the air. In fact, all this row that women were making -was like beating the air. "What's it about, anyhow?" he thought. "What -on earth do they want—the women?" It seemed to him, looking a little -resentfully at the ease and release from certain kinds of toil that had -come to women in the last two or three decades, that they had everything -that reasonable creatures could possibly want. "Think how their -grandmothers had to work!" he said to himself. "Now, all that these -ridiculous creatures have to do is to touch a button—and men's brains -do the rest." Certainly there is an enormous difference in the -collective ease of existence; women don't have to make their candles, or -knit their stockings, as their grandmothers did:—"yet, nowadays, they -are making more fuss than all the women that ever lived, put together! -What's the matter with 'em?"</p> - -<p>He grew quite hot over the ingratitude of the sex. His old Scotch -housekeeper, reading her Bible, and sewing from morning to night, was -far happier than these restless, dissatisfied creatures, who, in the -upper classes, flooded into schools of design and conservatories of -music—not one in a hundred with talent enough to cover a five-cent -piece!—and in the lower classes pulled down wages in factories and -shops. "Amateur Man," he said, sarcastically. "Suppose we tried to do -their jobs?" Then he paused to think what Fred's job, for instance, -would be. Not discovering it offhand, he told himself again that if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -women would keep busy, like their grandmothers—his contemptuous thought -stopped, with a jerk; how could women do the things their grandmothers -did? What was it Fred had got off—something about machinery being the -cuckoo which had pushed women out of the nest of domesticity? "Why," he -was surprised into saying, "she's right!"</p> - -<p>He came upon the deduction so abruptly that for a moment he forgot his -sore feeling about Frederica's youth. Suppose the women should suddenly -take it into their heads to be domestic, and flock out of the mechanical -industries, back to the "Home"? Arthur Weston whistled. "Financially," -said he, candidly, "we would bu'st in about ten minutes."...</p> - -<p>"Do you want to give me those prices to Laughlin before I go out to -lunch?" a flat voice asked in the outer office; he slid into his -desk-chair as the door opened.</p> - -<p>"I haven't had time to look them up yet. Don't wait."</p> - -<p>He took up his pen, but only made aimless marks on his blotting-paper; -the interruption jarred him back into irritated denial of possibilities: -"She amuses me, that's all; I'm not in the least—in love." Suddenly, -with a spring of resolution, he took down the telephone receiver and -called up a number. The conversation was brief: "Hello! Jim?... Yes; I'm -Arthur. Look here, I want to break away for a week.... Yes—break away. -B-r-e-a-k. I'm stale. Can't you go down to the marshes with me, for -ducks?... What? Oh, come on! You're not as important as you think.... -What?... I'll do the work—you just come along!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p><p>There followed a colloquy of some urgency on his part, and then a -final, satisfied "Good boy! Wednesday, then, on the seven-thirty."</p> - -<p>He had hardly secured his man before he regretted it; the mere prospect -of the arrangements he must make for the trip began to bore him. -However, he sat there at his desk and made some memoranda, conscious all -the time of a nagging self-questioning in the back of his mind. "<i>I'm -not!</i>" he said, again and again. "I'll get some shooting and clear my -brain up."</p> - -<p>But by the time he had sent a despatch or two, and called Jim Jackson up -a second time to decide some detail, he knew that shooting would not -help him much. The nag had settled itself: he had accepted the -revelation that he was "interested" in Freddy Payton. With the contrast -between the pain of the old wound and the new, he would not use the word -"love," but "interest" committed him to an affection, tender almost to -poignancy. Of course there was nothing to do about it. He must just take -his medicine, as Fred took hers, "without making faces." There was -nothing to strive for, nothing to avoid, nothing to expect. She was as -good as engaged to Howard Maitland, and it would be a very sensible and -desirable match;—to marry a man of forty-six would be neither sensible -nor desirable! No; the only thing left to her trustee was to take every -care of her that her eccentricities would permit, guard her, play with -her, and correct her appalling taste. "Lord! what bad taste she has!" -Also, while he and Jackson were wading about on the marshes for the next -week, kick some sense into himself!</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p><p>That very evening, dropping in to the Misses Graham's and partaking of -a bleakly feminine meal, he laid his lance in rest for her.</p> - -<p>Miss Mary was full of flurried apologies at the meagerness of the -supper-table, but old Miss Eliza said, with spirit, that bread and milk -would be good for him! "Now, tell us about that child, Arthur," she -commanded.</p> - -<p>"You mean Fred Payton, I suppose?" he said, raising an annoyed eyebrow. -"I don't call her a 'child.'"</p> - -<p>"You are quite right," Miss Mary agreed, in her little neutral voice; -"she is certainly old enough to know how to behave herself."</p> - -<p>"It's merely that she wants to reform the world," Miss Eliza said, -soothingly. "Reformers have no humor, and, of course, no taste;—or else -they wouldn't be reformers!"</p> - -<p>"Your dear cousin Eliza is too kind-hearted," Miss Mary said; but her -own kind, if conventional, heart made her listen sympathetically enough -to the visitor's excusing recital of the hardships of Fred's life.</p> - -<p>Once, she interrupted him by saying that it was, of course, painful—the -afflicted brother. And once she said she hoped that Miss Payton was a -comfort to her mother—"though I don't see how she can be, off every day -at what she calls her 'office'—a word only to be applied, it seems to -me, to places where gentlemen conduct their business. When I was young, -Arthur, a girl's first duty was in her home."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps there is nothing for her to do at home," Miss Eliza said.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p><p>"There is always something to do, in every properly conducted -household. Let her dust the china-closet."</p> - -<p>"I'd as soon put a tornado into a china-closet as that girl! She ought -to be turning a windmill," Miss Eliza said.</p> - -<p>Her cousin gave her a grateful look, but the other lady was very -serious. "I thought her manner to her grandmother most unpleasant. Youth -should respect Age—"</p> - -<p>"Not unless Age deserves respect!" cried Miss Eliza, tossing her old -head.</p> - -<p>Arthur Weston had seen that same flash in Fred's eyes. ("How young she -is!" he thought.) But her sister was plainly shocked.</p> - -<p>"Oh, my <i>dear</i> Eliza!" she expostulated. "I am not drawn to Mrs. Holmes -myself, but—"</p> - -<p>"Neither is Fred drawn to her," Weston interrupted; "and she is so -sincere that she shows her feelings. The rest of us don't. That's the -only difference."</p> - -<p>"It is a very large difference," Miss Graham said; "this matter of -showing one's feelings is as apt to mean cruelty as sincerity. It's the -reason the child has no charm."</p> - -<p>"I think she has charm," he said, frowning.</p> - -<p>There was a startled silence; then Miss Eliza said, heartily: "Don't -worry about her! Just now she thinks it's smart to put her thumb to her -nose and twiddle her fingers at Life—but she'll settle down and be a -dear child!"</p> - -<p>Miss Mary shook her head. "If I were a friend of the young lady, I -should worry very much. Maria Spencer called on us yesterday, and told -us a most unpleasant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> story about her. She spent the night at an inn -with this same young man that she smoked with here. Oh, an accident, of -course; but—"</p> - -<p>"Miss Spencer is the town scavenger," Weston said, angrily.</p> - -<p>Miss Mary did not notice the interruption. "I cannot help remarking that -I do not think that such a young woman would make any man happy." ("It -was difficult to bring the remark in," she told her sister, afterward; -"but I felt it my duty.")</p> - -<p>"The man who gets Fred will be a lucky fellow," her cousin declared.</p> - -<p>"You know her very well, I infer," Miss Mary murmured. "I observe you -use her first name."</p> - -<p>"Oh, very well! And I knew her father before her. But the use of the -first name is one of the new customs. Everybody calls everybody else by -their first name. Queer custom."</p> - -<p>"<i>Very</i> queer," said Miss Mary.</p> - -<p>"Very sensible!" said Miss Eliza.</p> - -<p>"Ah, well, we must just accept the fact that girls are not brought up as -they were when—when we were young"—Arthur Weston paused, but no one -corrected that "we." He sighed, and went on: "The tide of new ideas is -sweeping away a lot of the old landmarks; myself, I think it is better -for some of them to go. For instance, the freedom nowadays in the -relations of boys and girls makes for a straightforwardness that is -rather fine."</p> - -<p>"Well," said Miss Mary, "I don't like what you call 'new ideas.' 'New' -things shock me very much."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p><p>"I'm rather shocked, myself, once in a while," he agreed, -good-naturedly.</p> - -<p>"What will you do, Mary, when the 'new' heaven and the 'new' earth come -along?" Miss Eliza demanded.</p> - -<p>The younger sister lifted disapproving hands.</p> - -<p>"As for the girls smoking," Weston said, "I don't like it any better -than you do. In fact, I dislike it. But my dislike is æsthetic, not -ethical."</p> - -<p>"I hope you don't think smoking is a sign of the 'new' heaven," Miss -Mary said;—but her sister's aside—"the Other Place, more -likely!"—disconcerted her so much that for a moment she was silenced.</p> - -<p>"I never could see," said Miss Eliza, "that it was any wickeder for a -lady to smoke than for a gentleman; but, as I told the child, a girl's -lips ought to be sweet."</p> - -<p>"Her smoking is far less serious than other things," said the younger -sister, sitting up very straight and rigid. "I do not wish to believe -ill of the girl, so I shall only repeat that I do not think she will -make any man happy."</p> - -<p>"She will," Miss Eliza said, "if he will beat her."</p> - -<p>"Oh, my <i>dear</i> Eliza!" Miss Mary remonstrated. Then she tried to be -charitable: "However, perhaps she is engaged to this Maitland person, in -which case, though her taste would be just as bad, her meeting him here -would be less shocking."</p> - -<p>"If she isn't now, she will be very soon," Frederica's defender said.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Miss Mary, grimly, "let us hope so, for her sake; although, -as I say, I do <i>not</i> feel that she—"</p> - -<p>Miss Eliza looked at her cousin, and winked; he choked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> with laughter. -Then, with the purpose of saving Freddy, he began to dissect Freddy's -grandmother—her powder and false hair; her white veil, her -dog-collar—"that's to keep her double chin up," he said. "Yes! She is -<i>very</i> lively for her age!" He wished he could say that old Mrs. Holmes -was in the habit of meeting gentlemen in empty apartments—anything to -draw attention from his poor Fred!</p> - -<p>When he left his cousins, promising to come again as soon as he got back -from his shooting trip, and declaring that he hadn't had such milk toast -in years, he knew that he had not rehabilitated Frederica. "But Cousin -Mary feels that she has done her duty in warning me. Cousin Eliza would -gamble on it, and give her to me to-morrow," he thought; "game old soul! -But even if Howard wasn't ahead of the game, the odds would be against -me—forty-six to twenty-five—and, besides, what could I offer her? -Ashes! Kate trampled out the fire."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> - -<p>In those next few weeks Fred Payton was a little vague and preoccupied. -The revelation which had come to her in that moment before the mirror -when she had kissed her own hand, remained as a sort of undercurrent in -her thoughts, although she did not put it into words again. Instead, she -added Howard Maitland to her daily possibilities: Would she meet him on -the street?—and her eyes, careless and eager, raked the crowds on the -pavements! Would he drop into her office to say he had fished up a -client for her?—and she held her breath for an expectant moment when -the elevator clanged on her floor. Would he be at the dance at the -Country Club?—and when he cut in, and they went down the floor -together, something warm and satisfied brooded in her heart, like a bird -in its nest. Sometimes she rebuked herself for letting him know how -pleased she was to see him; and then rebuked herself again: Why not? Why -shouldn't she be as straightforward as he? Hadn't he told her he would -rather talk to her than to any man he knew? She flung up her head when -she thought of that; she was not vain, but she knew that he would not -say that to any other girl in their set. She was very contented now; not -even the ell room at 15 Payton Street seriously disturbed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> her. The fact -was, Life was so interesting she hadn't time to think of the ell -room—Howard, herself, her business, her league! Yet, busy as she was, -she remembered Flora's desire for music lessons, and every two or three -days, before it was time to set the table for dinner, she stood by the -togaed bust of Andy Payton, trying to teach the pathetically eager -creature her notes. But the lessons, begun with enthusiasm, dragged as -the weeks passed; poor Flora's numb mind—a little more numb just now -because Mr. Baker's Sam had suddenly vanished from her horizon—could -not grasp the matter of time. Fred's hand, resting on her shoulder, -could feel the tremor of effort through her whole body, as the thin, -brown fingers stumbled through the scales:</p> - -<p>"Now! Count: One—two—three—"</p> - -<p>"One—two—oh, land! Miss Freddy, I cain't."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you can. Try again."</p> - -<p>"Why don't you jest show me a tune?"</p> - -<p>"You have got to know your notes first; and you've got to count, or you -never can learn."</p> - -<p>"I don't want to learn, Miss Freddy; I want to play! Oh," she said once, -clutching her hands against her breast, "I <i>want</i> to play!" Her mournful -eyes, black and opaque, gleamed suddenly; then a tear trembled, brimmed -over, and dropped down on the work-worn fingers. "I cain't learn, Miss -Freddy; I 'ain't got the 'rithmetic. I want to make music!"</p> - -<p>Alas, she never could make music! The clumsy hands, the dull brain, held -her back from the singing heights! "I cain't learn 'rithmetic," she said -(sixteenth and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>thirty-second notes drew this assertion from her); "and -if I cain't play music without 'rithmetic, I might as well give up now."</p> - -<p>"Well, you can't," Frederica said, helplessly. She had cut out the last -quarter of her league meeting to come home and give Flora a music -lesson. (Up-stairs, Mrs. Payton, listening to the thump of the scales, -confided to Mrs. Childs that she didn't approve of Flora's playing on -the piano. "The parlor is not the place for Flora," she said.) But, -watched by Mr. Andrew Payton's marble eyes, the slow fingers went on -stumbling over the keys, until Frederica and her pupil were alike -disconsolate.</p> - -<p>"You poor dear!" Fred said, at last, putting an impulsive arm over the -thin shoulders; "try <i>once</i> more! And, Flora, Sam isn't the only man in -the world. Come now, cheer up! You're well rid of Sam."</p> - -<p>"Sam?" said Flora, her face suddenly vindictive; "I ain't pinin' for no -Sam! He was a low-down, no-account nigger—" The door-bell rang, and she -jumped to her feet. "I must git my clean apron!" she said; and vanished -into the pantry.</p> - -<p>Frederica waited, frowning uneasily; callers were not welcome at 15 -Payton Street when Fred was at home—the consciousness of the veiled -intellect up-stairs made her inhospitable. But it was only Laura and -Howard Maitland, both of them tingling with the cold and overflowing -with absurd and puppy-like fun.</p> - -<p>"Feed us! Feed us!" Laura demanded; "we've walked six miles, and we're -perfectly dead!"</p> - -<p>"Pig!" said Fred; "wait till I yell to Flora. Flora!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> Tea!" Her heart -was pounding joyously, but with it was the agonizing calculation as to -how long it would be before Miss Carter and her charge came clopping -down the front stairs on their way to the room where Mortimore had his -supper. "I don't mind Laura," Fred told herself, "but if Howard sees -Morty, I'll simply die!"</p> - -<p>"Don't you want me to light up?" Maitland was asking; and without -waiting for her answer he scratched a match on the sole of his boot, and -fumbled about the big, gilt chandelier to turn on the gas.</p> - -<p>"I didn't know you played, nowadays," Laura said, looking at the open -piano. "Gracious, Freddy, you do everything!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'm only teaching poor Flora. She has musical aspirations. Howard, -cheer up that fire!"</p> - -<p>Tea came, and Laura said kind things to Flora about the music lessons; -and then they all three began to chatter, and to scream at each other's -jokes, Frederica all the while tense with apprehension.... ("Miss Carter -won't have the sense to hold on to him; he'll walk right in!")</p> - -<p>But, up-stairs, her mother, leaning over the balusters to discover who -had called, had the same thought, and was quick to protect her.</p> - -<p>"It's your Lolly," Mrs. Payton said, coming back to her sister-in-law; -"and I think I hear Mr. Maitland's voice. I must tell Miss Carter to go -down the back stairs with Morty." Having given the order, through the -closed door between the two rooms, she sat down and listened with real -happiness to the babel of young voices in the parlor. "I do like to have -Freddy enjoy herself, as a girl in her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> position should," she told Mrs. -Childs; "just hear them laugh."</p> - -<p>The laughter was caused by Howard's displeasure at Fred's story of some -rudeness to which she had been subjected in canvassing for Smith—"The -Woman's Candidate."</p> - -<p>"If I'd been there, I'd have punched the cop's head!" he said, angrily.</p> - -<p>Fred shrieked at his absurdity. "If he'd said it to <i>you</i>, you'd only -think it was funny; and what's fun for the gander, is fun for—"</p> - -<p>"No, it isn't," he said, bluntly.</p> - -<p>"Howard," Laura broke in, "do tell Freddy the news!"</p> - -<p>"It isn't much," he said, modestly; "I'm ordered off; that's all."</p> - -<p>"Ordered off?" Fred repeated; "where?"</p> - -<p>"Philippines," Laura said. "Government expedition. Shells and things. -Starts Wednesday."</p> - -<p>"I've wanted to go ever since I was a kid," Howard explained. "It's the -Coast Survey, and I've been pulling legs all winter for a berth, and now -I've got it. I came in to see you pipe your eye with grief at my -departure."</p> - -<p>"Grief? Good riddance! You lost me a client, taking me out to see those -fool flats in Dawsonville. Have another cigarette. Lolly, how about -you?"</p> - -<p>"No," Laura sighed. "Billy-boy would have a fit if I smoked." She looked -at Fred a little enviously. "I'm crazy to," she confessed.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, don't," Maitland said; "it isn't your style, Laura."</p> - -<p>"Howard, do you really start Wednesday?" Fred said, soberly.</p> - -<p>He nodded. "It's great luck."</p> - -<p>"You'll have the time of your life," Laura assured him; "why do men have -all the fun, Freddy?"</p> - -<p>"Because we've been such fools to let 'em."</p> - -<p>"Ladies wouldn't find it much fun—wading round in the mud," Howard -protested.</p> - -<p>"They ought to have the chance to wade round, if they want to!" Fred -said—and paused: (was that Miss Carter, bringing Mortimore? Her breath -caught with horror. She was sure she heard the lurching footsteps. No; -all was silent in the upper hall).</p> - -<p>Howard did not notice her preoccupation; he was pouring out his plans, -Laura punctuating all he said with cries of admiration and envy. ("I'll -<i>die</i> if Morty comes in!" Frederica was saying to herself.)</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i108.jpg" id="i108.jpg"></a><img src="images/i108.jpg" alt="HOWARD DID NOT NOTICE HER PREOCCUPATION" /></div> - -<p class="bold">HOWARD DID NOT NOTICE HER PREOCCUPATION. HE WAS POURING<br /> -OUT HIS PLANS, LAURA PUNCTUATING ALL HE SAID WITH CRIES<br />OF ADMIRATION AND ENVY</p> - -<p>"You've got to write to me, Fred," Maitland charged her; "I haven't any -relations—'no one to love me.' Do write me the news once in a while."</p> - -<p>"You're off day after to-morrow?" she repeated, vaguely; it came over -her, in the midst of that tense listening for the shuffling step on the -stairs, that she would not see him again—he would go away, and she -would not have had a word alone with him! She felt, suddenly, that she -could not bear it. For a moment she forgot Mortimore. "If you don't go -up-stairs and say how-do-you-do to Mother, Laura," she said, abruptly, -"you'll get <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>yourself disliked. And your mother is in the sitting-room, -too." Even if Miss Carter and Morty appeared, she couldn't have Howard -leave her like this!</p> - -<p>Just for an instant, Laura's face changed; then she flung her head up, -and said, "Oh, yes; I want to see Aunt Nelly. I'll be right back. (I'll -give 'em a chance," she told herself, grimly.)</p> - -<p>Up-stairs, she roamed about the sitting-room, sniffing at the hyacinths, -and looking into the little, devout books, and even adding a piece or -two to the picture puzzle on the table. Then she sympathized with Mrs. -Payton's Christmas fatigue—"you oughtn't to give so many presents, Aunt -Nelly!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, my dear, it gets worse each year! People send me things, and of -course I have to pay my debts. So tiresome."</p> - -<p>"It's awful," said Laura; and straightened her mother's toque, and -kissed her. "Darling, your hat is always crooked," she scolded, cuddling -her cheek against her mother's. "Mama, we're going to have a suffrage -parade, in April; will you carry a banner?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, my dear!" Mrs. Payton protested. "One of those horrid parades here? -I thought we would escape that!"</p> - -<p>"Your father won't think of letting you walk in it, Laura," Mrs. Childs -warned her, with amiably impersonal discouragement.</p> - -<p>Laura's face sobered: "You make him let me, darling," she entreated.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton looked at them enviously. Nobody hated those vulgar, muddy, -unladylike parades more than she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> did, but she knew, in the bottom of -her heart, that if Freddy had snuggled against her, as Laura snuggled up -to Bessie, she would almost have walked in one herself!</p> - -<p>"Papa says those parades are perfect nonsense," Mrs. Childs said; "what -good do they do, anyhow?"</p> - -<p>"We stand up to be counted," Laura explained.</p> - -<p>"Papa won't allow it," her mother repeated, placidly.</p> - -<p>"I'm sure Mr. Weston will use his influence to prevent Freddy's doing -it," said Mrs. Payton.</p> - -<p>Then the two ladies exchanged their usual melancholy comments on the -times, and Laura listened, making her own silent comments on one fallacy -after another, but preserving always her sweet and cheerful indifference -to their grievances. She looked at the clock once or twice—surely she -had given Howard and Fred time enough! But she waited for still another -ten minutes, then, coughing carefully on the staircase, went down to the -parlor.</p> - -<p>Her consideration was unnecessary. Howard, standing with his hands in -his pockets, his back to the fire, had been telling Frederica that he -was going in for conchology seriously. "I know you don't think shells -are worth much," he ended, after giving her what he called a "spiel" as -to why he was going and what he was going to do. "But to me conchology -is like searching for buried treasure! I've been pawing round for a real -job, and now I've got it. I don't have to earn money, so I can earn -work! And I think research work means as much to the world as—as -anything else. I wanted you to know it was a real thing to me," he -ended, gravely.</p> - -<p>"Shells aren't awfully vital to civilization," she said.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p><p>He made no effort to justify his choice; he had confessed the faith -that was in him, but it was too intimate to discuss, even with so good a -fellow as old Freddy. ("You can't expect a woman to understand that sort -of thing," he told himself; "women don't catch on to science—except -Laura. She sees the importance of it.") Then he broke out about Laura's -hat. "Isn't it dinky?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," Fred said, impatiently; they were talking like two strangers! -"Howard, I hate to have you away in April. We're going to have our -parade then, and I counted on you."</p> - -<p>"What for?" he said, puzzled.</p> - -<p>"To walk," she said, impatiently. His little start of astonishment -annoyed her. "Perhaps you are glad to miss it?"</p> - -<p>"I guess I am," he admitted, honestly. "I'm afraid I'd show the yellow -streak."</p> - -<p>She was plainly disappointed in him.</p> - -<p>"'Course I believe in suffrage," he said, "but I hate to see a lot of -ladies walking in the middle of the street."</p> - -<p>"We're not 'ladies'; we're women."</p> - -<p>"You're a lady, and you can't escape it. And I'd hate to see Laura do -it," he added.</p> - -<p>Fred had not a mean fiber in her, and jealousy is all meanness; but, -somehow, she felt a stab of something like pain. She did not connect it -with Laura; it was only because he was indifferent to what was so -important to her—and to Laura, too. And because he was going away, and -here they were, he and she, just being polite to each other!</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p><p>"Laura and I don't enjoy the middle of the street," she said; "but I -hope we won't funk it."</p> - -<p>"<i>You</i> won't," he said; "you are the best sport going!"</p> - -<p>Her face reddened with pleasure. "Oh, I don't know," she disclaimed, -modestly.</p> - -<p>It was at this moment that Laura's considerate delay ended. "I'm off!" -she called, gaily, from the hall; "Howard needn't come until he is good -and ready!"</p> - -<p>He was ready in a flash. He gave Frederica's hand a hearty squeeze, then -turned to help Laura down the front steps.</p> - -<p>Fred closed the door upon them, and went back into the parlor. "<i>He is -going away</i>," she said to herself, blankly. Her knees felt queer, and -she sat down. "Well, at any rate, Morty didn't butt in; I couldn't have -borne that...."</p> - -<p>Out in the wintry dusk, the other two were silent for a while. Then -Maitland said, "How <i>can</i> she stand that house?"</p> - -<p>"She's perfectly fine," Laura said, loyally.</p> - -<p>"She's a stunner," the young man declared; "I never knew anybody just -like her. Big, you know. Straightforward. I take off my hat to Fred in -everything!"</p> - -<p>Laura gave him a swift look. ("Have they fixed it up?" she thought; "I -gave 'em time enough!")</p> - -<p>"But I wish she wouldn't mix up with Smith," he said.</p> - -<p>"Smith believes in votes for women."</p> - -<p>"What's that got to do with it? He's the worst kind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> of a boss. As -Arthur Weston says, to put Smith in to purify politics, is like casting -out devils by Beelzebub, the Prince of Devils."</p> - -<p>"Oh, well, we stand by the people who stand by us!"</p> - -<p>"She's dead wrong," Howard said, carelessly, "but I hope she'll write to -me when I'm away. I shall want to hear that Smith has been snowed -under."</p> - -<p>"Of course she'll write to you," Laura encouraged him. ("No, they can't -have fixed it up. He wouldn't say that, if they were engaged.")</p> - -<p>"Say, Laura, I suppose you—it would bore you to send me a postal once -in a while? You might tell me how Fred's business is getting along."</p> - -<p>"She can tell you herself. (Good gracious! She's turned him down! Poor -old Howard!) I'm not very keen on writing letters, but I'll blow in a -postal on you once in a while, to tell you that Fred is still in the -market."</p> - -<p>"I'd be awfully pleased if you would," he said, eagerly.</p> - -<p>They were crossing Penn Park, and Laura, looking ahead, said, nervously: -"See this dreadful person coming along the path! Is he drunk?"</p> - -<p>"He certainly is," Howard said, laughing. She drew a little nearer to -him—and instantly he had a friendly feeling for the lurching -pedestrian!</p> - -<p>"It frightens me to death to see a man like that," she said.</p> - -<p>"He ought to be arrested," Howard said, joyfully—her shoulder was soft -against his! "Not that he would hurt anybody—he's just happy."</p> - -<p>"I'm not sandy, like Fred," she confessed.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, Fred would undertake to reform him," he agreed, laughing.</p> - -<p>"Fred is—oh!" she broke off with a little shriek; the man, stumbling, -had caught at her arm.</p> - -<p>"<i>Ex</i>cuse me, lady, I—" Howard's instant grip on his collar spun him -around so suddenly that the rest of the hiccoughing apologies were lost -in astonishment; he stood still, swaying in his tracks, and gaping at -the receding pair. "The dude thought I was mashin' his girl," he said, -with a giggle.</p> - -<p>"Did he touch you?" Howard said, angrily. He had caught her to him as he -swung the man aside, and just for an instant he felt the tremor all -through her. "I ought to have choked him!"</p> - -<p>But she was laughing—nervously, to be sure, but with gaiety: "Nonsense! -poor fellow—he stumbled! Of course he caught at my arm. Only just for a -minute it frightened me—I'm such a goose!"</p> - -<p>"You're not!" he said. But for the rest of the way to the Childses' -house, he was very much upset. Laura had been scared, and it was his -fault; he had taken the west path through the park, because that was the -longest way home, and then he had bowled her right into that old soak! -"I could kick myself for taking the west path," he reproached himself, -again and again.</p> - -<p>He hardly slept that night with worry over having made Laura Childs -nervous. "She's the scariest little thing going!" he thought; "but she -has sense." She had agreed with him in everything he said about the -value of research work, and when he declared that science was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> the -religion of the man of intellect she had said, "Yes, indeed it is!" -"That shows what kind of a mind she has," he thought; "but wasn't she -cute about not smoking! Her 'father wouldn't let her.' Of course he -wouldn't! A girl like that could no more smoke a cigarette than a—a -rose could," he ended. This flight of fancy moved him so much that he -made a memorandum to send Laura some roses the next day—"and old Fred, -too; she's a stunning woman," he said, with real enthusiasm.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> - -<p>Howard Maitland's departure in January for the Philippines surprised -several people.</p> - -<p>"Why should he take such a long journey?" Miss Mary Graham said to Miss -Eliza—"unless it is that he discovered that Miss Payton is not the sort -of girl to make any man happy, and simply left the country."</p> - -<p>"I wager he carried a mitten with him!" Miss Eliza said.</p> - -<p>"What! You think she refused him? Maria Spencer says she's only too -anxious to get him. Meeting him in empty apartments! Perhaps that -disgusted him. A gentleman does not like to be pursued."...</p> - -<p class="space-above">"Why has he gone away?" Mrs. Childs asked Laura, mildly interested.</p> - -<p>"Because he wants to hunt for shells."</p> - -<p>"But I thought he was so attentive to Freddy?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe she turned him down."</p> - -<p>"She'll get a crooked stick at last, if she doesn't look out," her -father said, over the top of his newspaper.</p> - -<p>Laura came and sat on the arm of his chair. "Fred doesn't need a stick, -Billy-boy; she can walk alone."</p> - -<p>"Every one of you needs a stick," Mr. William Childs assured her; "and I -don't know that I would confine it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> to the thickness of my thumb, -either, as the English law does." He reached up a plump hand and pulled -her ear. Afterward he told his wife that Lolly was down by the head: -"What's the matter with her, Mother?" he said. His two sons might have -failed in their various businesses, or taken to their beds with mumps or -measles, and he would not have looked as anxious as he did when he heard -the little flat note in Laura's voice. "Is she off her feed because I -won't let her walk in that circus parade of Fred's?"</p> - -<p>"Well, she's disappointed."</p> - -<p>"I won't have a girl of mine tramping through the mud—"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps it won't be muddy."</p> - -<p>"It will! It always is. Anyway, I hope it will be. But if she is upset -about it, I'll take her to St. Louis with me that week, so she won't -feel she's backed out. Mother, you don't suppose <i>she's</i> missing that -Maitland chap, do you? Hey? What?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, dear me, no! Why, Mr. Maitland has been paying attention to Freddy -for the last year."</p> - -<p>"Why doesn't she take him, and stop all her nonsense? I hear she told -those poor, silly strikers in Dean's rubber-factory to support Smith, -the 'Woman's Candidate'! Much 'supporting' they can do! And the joke of -it is, Smith himself owns the controlling stock. She had better be at -home, darning her stockings."</p> - -<p>"Oh, now, Father, you must remember it isn't as if Ellen didn't have -plenty of servants to do things like that."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p><p>"I hear she's signed that petition to have certain kinds of diseases -registered. <i>I</i> don't know what the world's coming to, that girls know -about such things!"</p> - -<p>"Well, of course, girls are more intelligent than they used to be."</p> - -<p>"If she's so intelligent, I'll give her a book on Bacon-Shakespeare that -will exercise her brains,—and she can stop concerning herself with -matters that decent women know nothing about. Thank Heaven, our Laura is -as ignorant as a baby! Or, if Fred is so bent on reforming things, let -her have a Sunday-school class," said Mr. Childs, puffing and scowling. -"Look here, Mother, if you have any influence over her, try and get her -to take young Maitland. I should sleep more easily in my bed if I -thought she had a man to keep her in order."</p> - -<p>"But he has gone away," Mrs. Childs objected.</p> - -<p>"That's because she has turned him down. Maybe he'll never think of her -again; I wouldn't, if I were a young fellow! I'd want a <i>woman</i>, not a -man in petticoats. But if he does get on her track again, tell her to -take him; tell her I say she'll get a crooked stick if she waits too -long. You're sure Laura isn't blue about him?"</p> - -<p>"Now, Father! You are the most foolish man about that child!..."</p> - -<p class="space-above">"Why has Maitland gone on that expedition, Fred?" said Mr. Weston.</p> - -<p>"You can search me," said Miss Payton.</p> - -<p>Arthur Weston's hands, concealed in his pockets, tightened. "She has -refused him!" he said to himself. (Alas!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> shooting ducks on the marshes -had not helped him!) He had dropped in at 15 Payton Street, and Fred had -taken him up to the flounced and flowery sitting-room.</p> - -<p>"Mother'll be in pretty soon," she said; "so let's talk business, -quick!" She was apparently absorbed in "business," which, as the winter -thawed and drizzled into spring, flagged very much. "And the office rent -goes right along, just the same," she told her trustee, ruefully. "I -think, if I could have a little car to run around and look at places—"</p> - -<p>"Maitland put that idea in your head!"</p> - -<p>Frederica did not defend her absent adorer. Instead, she wailed over the -rapacity of her landlord.</p> - -<p>"You ought to have made your rent contingent on your customers," Mr. -Weston teased her; and roared when she took it seriously and said she -wished she had thought of it. "Give me some tea, Fred," he said; "these -questions of high finance exhaust me." Then he asked the usual question, -and Fred gave the usual answer. "But what do you hear from him?" Weston -persisted. "I suppose you write to him occasionally? You mustn't be too -cruel."</p> - -<p>"Well, I don't hear much," she said. She took a letter out of her pocket -and handed it to him.</p> - -<p>When he had read it, he was silent for a while. ("If this is the sort of -letter a blighted being writes," he reflected, "love has changed since -my time.")</p> - -<p>"<i>Dear Fred</i>," the letter ran, "<i>I'm having the time of my life. Tell -Laura Childs I saw a shell necklace that she'd be perfectly crazy about. -The dredging ...</i>"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p><p>Then followed two pages about shells, which Mr. Weston, raising a bored -eyebrow, skipped.</p> - -<p>"<i>Those books you sent were bully. They look very interesting. I haven't -had time to read them yet. Tell Laura they use boa-constrictors here -instead of cats; and tell her that the flowers are perfectly -wonderful.</i>"</p> - -<p>Then came something about suffrage, ending with a ribald suggestion that -the suffragists should get a Filipino candidate—"<i>He wouldn't cost so -much as the chief of bosses, Mr. Smith; a Moro will root for 'votes for -women' if you promise him a bottle of whisky.</i>"</p> - -<p>"He is not losing sleep over being rejected," Arthur Weston thought, as -he handed the letter back to her.... He had lost some sleep himself, -lately: "And there's no excuse for it," he told himself; "I didn't -<i>fall</i> in love, I strayed in—in spite of sign-posts on every corner! -And now I'm in, I can't get out. Damn it, I will get out!" But each day -it seemed as if he 'strayed' farther in....</p> - -<p class="space-above">"Why has H. M. gone off?" Laura asked Frederica.</p> - -<p>"Why, you know! Shells," Fred said, astonished at the question.</p> - -<p>"Tell that to the marines. Freddy, you bounced him!"</p> - -<p>"I did not."</p> - -<p>"Well, then, if you didn't, what color are the bridesmaids' dresses to -be?" Laura retorted.</p> - -<p>"Get out!" said Frederica.</p> - -<p class="space-above">"Why has Mr. Maitland left town?" Mrs. Payton asked her daughter.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p><p>"Shells."</p> - -<p>"Oh," Mrs. Payton said; "but I thought he—you—I mean, I supposed ... -Freddy, he's a nice fellow. I wish—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, nice enough," Fred admitted, carelessly.</p> - -<p>"She's refused him," Mrs. Payton thought; and sighed.</p> - -<p class="space-above">Even Flora had to ask her question: "Mr. Maitland has gone away, they -say, Miss Freddy?"</p> - -<p>"So I hear."</p> - -<p>"Men," said Flora, heavily, "is always going away! Why can't they stay -in one place, same as ladies?"</p> - -<p>"They are not so important as we are," Miss Freddy assured her.</p> - -<p>"If they was all swep' out of the world, it would be just the same to -me," said Flora, viciously.</p> - -<p>Fred kept a severely straight face; all the household knew poor Flora -had had another disappointment.</p> - -<p class="space-above">"Why?"—"Why?"—everybody asked. But Frederica only thought "why." Her -first feeling when he went away had been a sort of blank astonishment. -Of course, it was all right; there was no reason he shouldn't go, -only—"Why?"</p> - -<p>Every day, as she worked at her desk, or took a trolley-car to the -suburbs to inspect some apartment, or sat in absorbed silence opposite -her mother at the dinner-table, she was saying, <i>why</i>? She was certain -that he was fond of her. "Did he go because he thought I was so deep in -business that I wouldn't bother with him? Or because<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> he wanted to show -me he could put in really serious licks of work? Or because he was -afraid I'd turn him down? Of course, I am awfully matter-of-fact," she -admitted; "but all the same, he's blind if he thinks that!"</p> - -<p>Sometimes, when her mother commented vaguely on the weather, or on -Flora's indelicacy in being so daft about men, or Miss Carter's -perfectly unreasonable wish to go to the theater once a week, besides -her regular evening out—"<i>I</i> don't go once a year," Mrs. Payton -said—Frederica would start and say, "Beg your pardon? I didn't hear -you." Nor would she hear her mother's dreary sigh.</p> - -<p>"Freddy has nothing in common with me," Mrs. Payton used to think, and -sigh again. It did not occur to her to say, "I have nothing in common -with Freddy." Certainly, they had nothing of mutual interest to talk -about.... Mrs. Payton was wondering dully whether she had not better -take a grain of calomel; why they would not eat cold mutton in the -kitchen; whether Flora wouldn't be a little more cheerful now, for Miss -Carter said that the McKnights' chauffeur was making up to her.... Fred -was wondering how soon her last letter would reach Howard Maitland; -foreseeing his interest in its contents—the news that Smith had been -beaten, but pledged to the support of suffrage in his next campaign; -calculating as to the earliest possible date of his reply.... Mrs. -Payton was right; they had nothing in common. By and by, as the weeks -passed, the mother and daughter, together only at meals, lapsed into -almost complete silence.</p> - -<p>"I love both my children <i>just</i> the same, but Mortimore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> is more of a -companion than she is," Mrs. Payton thought, bitterly.</p> - -<p>There was, however, one moment, in April, when Frederica did talk.... -Mrs. Holmes had come in to dinner, and somehow things started badly. -Mrs. Payton had said, sighing, that she was pretty tired; "I really -haven't got over the Christmas rush, yet," she complained. And -Frederica, with a shrug, said that the Christmas debauch was getting -worse each year. Then the suffrage parade was discussed. It had taken -place the day before, in brilliant sunshine, and on perfectly dry -streets, which greatly provoked Mrs. Holmes, who had prayed for rain. -Naturally, she made vicious thrusts at the women who took their dry-shod -part in it. She was thankful, she said, that William Childs had locked -Laura up; anyhow, <i>she</i> hadn't disgraced the family!</p> - -<p>"Do you call taking her to St. Louis 'locking her up'?" Fred inquired. -"Laura gave in to Billy-boy, which was rather sandless in her. She is a -dear, but she hasn't much sand."</p> - -<p>"She has decency, which is better. To show yourselves off to a lot of -coarse men—"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Weston watched the procession."</p> - -<p>"Only coarse women would do such a thing! And Arthur Weston might have -had something better to do!"</p> - -<p>Frederica held on to herself; she even refrained from quoting Mr. -Weston's comment on the parade: "No doubt there were women in the -procession who liked to be conspicuous; but there were others who -marched with the consecration of martyrs and patriots!" But of course -it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> needed only a word to bring an explosion. The word was innocent -enough:</p> - -<p>"That Maitland boy," said Mrs. Holmes—"I've dropped my napkin, Flora; -pick it up—why did he suddenly leave everything and go off?"</p> - -<p>"Freddy says he's gone to dig shells," said Mrs. Payton.</p> - -<p>"Dig what?" said Mrs. Holmes; "people mumble so nowadays, nobody can -understand them! Oh, shells? Yes. Funny thing to do, but I believe it's -quite the thing for rich young men to amuse themselves in some -scientific way. I suppose it doesn't need brains, as business does."</p> - -<p>"It isn't amusement," Frederica said; "it's work."</p> - -<p>Upon which her grandmother retorted, shrewdly: "Anything you do because -you want to, not because you have to, is an amusement, my dear. Like -your real-estate business."</p> - -<p>Frederica's lip hardened.</p> - -<p>"However," Mrs. Holmes conceded, "to make his way in the world, a rich -man, fortunately, doesn't need to be intelligent, any more than a pretty -girl needs to be clever"—she gave her granddaughter a malicious glance; -"all the same, young Maitland had better settle down and get married, -and spend some of the Maitland money. (There goes my napkin again, -Flora!)"</p> - -<p>"I'd have no respect for him, if he did," Fred said. "He would be too -much like this family—living on dead brains."</p> - -<p>Her grandmother turned angry eyes on Mrs. Payton. "You may know what -your daughter means, Ellen; I'm sure I don't!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p><p>"I'll tell you what I mean," Frederica said, "you and Mother simply -live on the money your husbands made and left you when they died. Since -you were a girl, when you had to work because you were poor, you have -never done a hand's turn to earn your living. Mother has never done -anything. You are both parasites. Well, I am, too; but there's this -difference between us: I am ashamed, and you are not. I am trying to do -something for myself. But the only thing you two will do for yourselves -will be to die." She looked at her speechless grandmother, appraisingly. -"Yes, death will be a real thing to you, Grandmother. You can't get -anybody else to do your dying for you."</p> - -<p>"Ellen! <i>Really!</i>" Mrs. Holmes gasped out.</p> - -<p>"Freddy, stop!" her mother said, hysterically.</p> - -<p>"Well, what have either of you ever done to earn what you are at this -moment eating?" Fred inquired, calmly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton was speechless with displeasure, but Mrs. Holmes, shivering -from the chill of that word Fred had used, helped herself wildly from a -dish Flora had been holding, unnoticed, at her elbow. "Ellen, I simply -will not come here, if you allow that girl to speak in this way—before -a servant, too!" she added, as Flora retreated to the pantry.</p> - -<p>"I merely told the truth," Fred said, with a bored look.</p> - -<p>"Well," said her grandmother, "then <i>I</i> will tell you the truth! You are -a very unpleasant girl. And I don't wonder you are not married—no man -would be such a fool as to ask you! A girl who cheapens herself by -locking herself up in empty flats with any young man she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> happens to -meet, and signs indecent petitions, and rants in the public streets to a -lot of strikers—why, you are not a <i>lady</i>! You are as plain as a -pike-staff; and you have no manners, and no sense, and no heart—you've -nothing but cleverness, which is about as attractive to a man as a hair -shirt! Maria Spencer told me she expected you would be ruined; but I -said I would think better of you if you were capable of being ruined, or -if anybody wanted to ruin you. You are not a woman; you are a -suffragist! That's why you haven't any charm; not a particle!"</p> - -<p>"Thank Heaven!" Frederica murmured.</p> - -<p>"Well, unless men have changed since my day," Mrs. Holmes said, shrilly, -"a man wants charm in a woman, more than he wants brains."</p> - -<p>"It is a matter of indifference to me what men want," Fred commented.</p> - -<p>Her grandmother did not notice the interruption—"Though when <i>we</i> were -young, some of us had brains and charm, too! There! That's the truth, -and how do you like it? Ellen, why do you have your napkins starched so -stiffly—they won't stay on your lap a minute!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> - -<p>"I never noticed her looks," Howard Maitland was saying, as he and -another member of the Survey Expedition lounged against the railing of -their tubby little vessel and looked idly down on an oily sea. They had -been talking about women—or Woman, as Frederica Payton would have -expressed it; and, naturally, she herself came in for comment.</p> - -<p>"Pretty?" Thomas Leighton had asked, sleepily. It was very hot, and the -flats smelt abominably; both men were muddy and dripping with -perspiration.</p> - -<p>Howard meditated: "I never noticed her looks. She keeps you hustling so -to know what she's talking about, that looks don't count. She says -things that make you sit up—but lots of girls do that."</p> - -<p>"They do. Boring after the first shock. But they enjoy it. It draws -attention to 'em. Our grandmothers used to faint all over the lot, for -the same purpose."</p> - -<p>"Sometimes," Howard said, grinning, "when they get going about sex, I -don't know where to look!"</p> - -<p>"Look at <i>them</i>. That's what they want. And as most of 'em don't know -what they're talking about, you needn't be uncomfortable. When they -orate on Man's injustice to Woman—capital M and capital W—I get a -little weary."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p><p>"I'm with 'em, there!" Maitland said.</p> - -<p>The older man gave a grunt of impatience: "It isn't men who are unfair -to women; it's Nature. But I don't see what can be done about it. Even -the woman's vote won't be very successful in bucking Nature."</p> - -<p>"I don't agree with you! Nature is perfectly impartial. Brain has no -sex!"</p> - -<p>"Nature impartial?" Leighton repeated, grimly; "Maitland, when the time -comes for you to sit outside your wife's room, and wait for your -first-born, you will not call Nature impartial. Theories are all very -pretty, but just try waiting outside that door—" his face twitched; and -Howard, remembering vaguely that Mrs. Leighton had been an invalid since -the birth of their only child, changed the subject:</p> - -<p>"Miss Payton's just sent me a cartload of suffrage literature; came on -the tug yesterday."</p> - -<p>"Suffragist?—you, I mean?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; aren't you? Let's get in the flap of that sail."</p> - -<p>"Do I look like a suffragist?" the other man demanded.</p> - -<p>Howard surveyed him. "I don't know the earmarks, but you show traces of -intelligence, so I suppose you are."</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you the earmarks—in the human male: amiable youth or -doddering age."</p> - -<p>"You're not guilty on the amiability charge, and you don't visibly -dodder. So I suppose you're an anti."</p> - -<p>"Not on your life! It's a case of a plague on both your houses."</p> - -<p>They were silent for a while, looking across the lagoon at a low reef -where, all day long, the palms bent and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> rustled in the hot wind; then -Leighton broke out: "For utter absence of logic I wouldn't know which -party to put my money on."</p> - -<p>"Play the antis," Howard advised.</p> - -<p>But the other man demurred. "It's neck and neck. Some of the arguments -of the antis indicate idiocy; but some of the suffs' arguments indicate -mania—homicidal mania! It's a dead heat. It's queer," he ruminated; -"each side has sound reasons for the faith that is in it, yet they both -offer us such a lot of—<i>truck</i>! One of the mysteries of the feminine -mind, I suppose." He knocked the ashes out of his pipe on the deck-rail, -and yawned. "As an example of 'truck,' I heard an anti say that for a -woman to assume the functions of a man, and vote, was to 'revert to the -amœba.' Can you match that? But, on the other hand, look at the -suffs! My own sister-in-law (a mighty fine woman) told me that men 'were -of no use except to continue the race.'"</p> - -<p>"That's going some!"</p> - -<p>"But of course," the older man said, "it is ridiculous to make sex -either a qualification or a disqualification for the ballot; and it's -absurd that my wife shouldn't have a vote when that old Portuguese fool -from Gloucester, Massachusetts, who guts our fish and can't speak -English so that an American dog could understand him—has it."</p> - -<p>"That's just it!" Howard said, surprised at his fairness.</p> - -<p>"Why multiply him by two?" Leighton said, dryly.</p> - -<p>"We wouldn't be a democracy if we discriminated against the uneducated!"</p> - -<p>"I don't. I discriminate against the unintelligent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> You'll admit -there's a difference? Also, allow me to remind you that democracy is not -the ballot; it's a state of mind."</p> - -<p>"Very well!" Maitland retorted. "Make intelligence the qualification: -the women put it over us every time! They are far more intelligent than -men."</p> - -<p>"I'd like to hear you prove it."</p> - -<p>"That's easy! Girls can stay in school longer than boys, so they are -better educated."</p> - -<p>"But I'm not talking about schooling!" Leighton broke in; "I mean just -common sense as to functions of the ballot. Let women ask for an -intelligence qualification, and I'll be the biggest kind of a suff! But -while they don't know any more about what the ballot can and can't do, -than to gas about its raising woman's wages—oh, Lord!" he ended, -hopelessly.</p> - -<p>"Suffrage in itself is educating," Howard instructed him.</p> - -<p>Leighton nodded. "It ought to be. But I can't see that it has -perceptibly educated our fish-gutter. Still, you'd like to meet his wife -at the polls?"</p> - -<p>The suffragist hesitated: "When women get the vote, they'll change the -election laws, and weed out the unfit."</p> - -<p>Leighton lifted despairing hands: "When you say things like that, I feel -like putting my money on the suffs! Mait, get out of the cradle! Our -grandfathers made a mess of it, by dealing out universal male suffrage; -and our fathers made a worse mess in giving it to the male negro; now -the women want to make asses of themselves, just as we did. They are -always yapping about being our 'equals.' They <i>are</i>! They are as big -fools as we are.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> Bigger, for they have the benefit of observing our -blunders, and being able to avoid them—and they won't do it! Because -Mr. Portugee has the ballot, Mrs. Portugee must have it, too. They say -it wouldn't be 'fair' to leave her out. You'd think they were a parcel -of schoolgirls! If women would ask for a limited suffrage, ask for the -vote for my wife, so to speak—a vote for <i>any</i> intelligent woman, cook -or countess!—I'd hold up both hands, and so would most men."</p> - -<p>"It isn't practical."</p> - -<p>"Practical enough, if we wanted to do it. And think what we could -accomplish—the intelligent men, <i>and</i> the intelligent women! The people -who buy and sell Mr. Portugee would be snowed under;—which is the -reason the corrupt element in politics object to a limited suffrage for -women! They need Mr. Portugee in their business, and rather than lose -him, they'll take Mrs. P., too. So what's the use of talking? Votes for -Women will come, in spite of all the antis in the land, for in this -woman's scrimmage, though the antis have the charm, the suffragists have -the brains; and brains always win, no matter how bad the cause! They'll -get it—I'm betting that they'll get it in five years."</p> - -<p>"You ought to hear Miss Payton talk about it," Maitland said; "she'd -floor you every time. She's got a mighty pretty cousin," he rambled off; -"<i>she</i> has charm."</p> - -<p>"Suffragist?"</p> - -<p>"Laura Childs? You bet she is! And she has brains. Not like Miss Payton, -of course. But—" he straightened up, and his eyes began to shine; his -description of Laura was so explicit that his companion smiled.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, that's the lay of the land, is it?" he said.</p> - -<p>To which Howard responded by telling him to go to thunder. "Trouble with -Miss Childs," he said, "is that the fellows are standing in a queue up -to her father's door-steps, waiting to get a chance at her."</p> - -<p>"Why did you step out of line?"</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you the kind of a girl she is," Howard said, ignoring the -question. "Of course, a man never would get stuck with Laura at a dance, -but she's the kind, if she <i>thought</i> he was stuck, would make some sort -of excuse—say she wanted to speak to her mother—so as to shake him. No -man ever wants to get clear of Laura, but she's that kind of girl. -That's why men hang round so."</p> - -<p>"You evidently didn't hang round?"</p> - -<p>Howard yawned. "Did I show you the pearl I found yesterday?" he asked, -and produced, after much rummaging in his various pockets, a twist of -paper. Leighton inspected the pearl without enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>"Good so far as it goes. Hardly big enough for the ring."</p> - -<p>Howard gave him a thrust in the ribs. "I'm going down to the cabin."</p> - -<p>In his sweltering state-room he looked at his find, critically. "No, it -isn't big enough," he decided. "Well, maybe I'll never have a chance to -produce a ring," he added, dolefully; then he dropped the pearl into his -collar-box, and mopped the perspiration from his frowning forehead. -"Wonder if I shall ever be cool enough in this life to wear a collar?" -he speculated. After all, why <i>had</i> he stepped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> out of the line? "I wish -I'd prospected before I left home!" Yet he realized that he had not -known how much Laura counted in his life until he got away from her. Out -here, "digging for buried treasure" in the blazing sun, lying on deck -through velvet, starlit nights, the recollection of that "queue" lining -up at Billy-boy's front door-steps had become first an irritation, and -by and by an uneasiness. He had had one card from her,—"<i>7° above. -Don't you wish you were as cold as we are?</i>" The photograph on the back -revealed a snowy mountain-side that was tantalizing to a man who had -nothing to look at but blazing, palm-fringed reefs, and who, for weeks, -had been sweating at 104°. And it was not only the temperature that -tantalized him—in the foreground of the picture were half a dozen of -his set on skis. Laura, in a sweater and a woolly white toque, was -putting a mittened hand into Jack McKnight's, to steady herself. Howard -had not liked that card. "McKnight's got on his Montreal rig, all -right," he thought, contemptuously; "he always dresses for the part!"</p> - -<p>It was that postal which had aroused his uneasiness about the queue, and -set him to counting the weeks until he could get into the line again. -Also, it made him write rather promptly to Frederica Payton:</p> - -<p>"<i>Hasn't Jack McKnight got any job? He's a pretty successful loafer if -he can go off skiing all around the clock. Why doesn't Laura put an -extinguisher on him? How is Laura? I suppose she and Jack are having the -time of their young lives this winter.</i>"</p> - -<p>It was well on in July before Fred's reply to that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>particular letter -reached him, and it made him tell Tom Leighton that Miss Payton—"You -remember I told you about her?"—was the finest woman he had ever known. -"No sentimental squash about Freddy Payton!" This tribute was given -because Fred had said:</p> - -<p>"<i>Laura hasn't confided in me, but I'm betting that she'll turn Jack -McKnight down. He's not good enough to black her boots, and nowadays -women demand that men</i>—"</p> - -<p>At this point Howard folded the letter and put it in his pocket. -"Laura'll bounce him!" he said to himself; and for the next hour he -expatiated to Mr. Leighton upon the charm of common sense in a -woman—the woman being Miss Payton, of whom his hearer was getting just -a little tired; but he was confused, too. At the end of an hour his -gathering perplexity found words:</p> - -<p>"But I thought it was the pretty cousin you were gone on?"</p> - -<p>"You did, did you?" Howard said. "Digging shells has affected your -brain, Tommy."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> - -<p>Spring had sauntered very slowly up the Ohio Valley that year. During a -cold and slushy April, Frederica paid her advertising bills, and was -assured that the Misses Graham would want her to engage an apartment for -them in the autumn. Also, she found a flat for a lady with strikingly -golden hair, who later departed without paying her rent. This created a -disgruntled landlord and instructed the real-estate agent in the range -of adjectives disgruntled landlords can use. In May she was almost busy -in finding houses on the lake and in the mountains for summer residents; -but her traveling expenses to and from the various localities were so -large that she had to apply to her man of business for an advance from -her allowance.</p> - -<p>"Look here, Fred," he said, "you can't live on your future commission -from Cousin Eliza. Don't you think you've had about enough of this kind -of thing?"</p> - -<p>"I do not!" she said. "You can sponge my head between rounds, but you -can't stop the mill. I don't pull off the gloves till I see it through. -And I'm twenty-two dollars ahead of last month!"</p> - -<p>She had induced him to go with her and Zip to see the tiny furnished -cottage she had hired for the summer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> in Lakeville—the cheerfully -vulgar suburb of Laketon where persons of her own sort played at -farming. Lakeville was only a handful of flimsy frame houses scattered -along under the trees close to the sedgy edge of the lake. Wooden piers -ran out into deep water, and, when the season opened, collected joggling -fleets of skiffs and canoes about their slimy piles. As yet, the houses -were unoccupied, but the spirit of previous tenants, as indicated by -names painted above the doors—"Bide-a-Wee," and "Herestoyou"—had been -very social. Sentimental minds were confessed in "Rippling Waves," and -"Sweet Homes." Fred's "bungalow," its shingled sides weathered to an -inoffensive gray, was labeled, over its tiny piazza, "Sunrise Cottage."</p> - -<p>"I think that's why I took it," she told Mr. Weston, when, having -inspected its shoddy interior and paused on the porch to look at the -far-off church spire of Laketon, they wandered down to a ledge of rock -that jutted out into the lake; "women are going to raise the sun of -freedom!"</p> - -<p>"I hope they won't, accidentally, raise Cain," he murmured. "Fred, the -lamp on your center-table almost put my eyes out! Do the Lakevillians -really think that kind of junk beautiful?"</p> - -<p>"They do. But don't be cocky; we thought it beautiful ourselves not so -very long ago—if it was only expensive enough! Look at the parlor in -Payton Street."</p> - -<p>"That magenta shade with the autumn leaves on it is the most horrible -thing I ever saw," he said, shuddering.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p><p>"I shall have lots of candles and a student's lamp to mitigate it," she -comforted him.</p> - -<p>They had settled down on the rock, Zip dozing against Fred's knee. It -was an exquisite May afternoon. Everything was very still; once a bird -fluted in the distance, and once, on the piazza of a boarded-up cottage, -a chipmunk scurried through the drift of last year's leaves. A haze of -heat lay on the water that crinkled sometimes under a cat's-paw of wind, -and then lapped faintly in the sedges. The woods, crowding close to the -shore, were showing the furry grayness of young oak leaves, and here and -there a maple smoldered into flame. Frederica, absently poking a twig -under patches of lichen and flaking them off into the water, was saying -to herself that in about six months Howard Maitland would be at home.</p> - -<p>"Lakeville is so unnecessarily hideous," Mr. Weston meditated; "I can't -see why you should like it."</p> - -<p>"Because my friends come here—people who <i>work</i>! I'm going to start a -suffrage club for them."</p> - -<p>"How grateful they will be!" he said. His amiability when he was bored -was very marked.</p> - -<p>"But I had to cave," Fred said, "about having Flora here when I stay all -night. The Childs family felt they would be compromised if people in -Laketon knew that Billy-boy's niece flocked by herself in Lakeville. The -Childses are personages in Laketon! Aunt Bessie is the treasurer of the -antis, and runs a gambling-den on Thursday afternoons—she calls it her -Bridge Club. And Billy-boy has a Baconian Club, Saturday nights. My, how -useful they are! As my unconventionality would injure<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> their value to -society, I said I would hold Flora's hand. How much use do you suppose -Flora would be if thieves broke in to steal?"</p> - -<p>"She would be another scream. And you'll like to have her wash the -dishes for you."</p> - -<p>"Flora is too much in love to wash dishes well," Fred said. "Besides, I -don't mind washing 'em, and <i>I</i> do it well. The idea that women who -<i>think</i> can't do things like that is silly. We do housework, or any -other work, infinitely better than slaves."</p> - -<p>"'Slaves' being your mothers and grandmothers?"</p> - -<p>Frederica nodded, prying up a piece of moss and snapping the twig off -short.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Fred, you are very funny!"</p> - -<p>"Glad I amuse you. Pitch me that little stick under your foot."</p> - -<p>He handed it to her, and she began to dig industriously into the cracks -and crevices of the old gray rock. "The idea of calling Mrs. Holmes a -slave is delightful," he said.</p> - -<p>"She is a slave to her environment! Do you think she would have dared to -do the things I do?"</p> - -<p>"She wouldn't have wanted to."</p> - -<p>"You evade. Well, I suppose you belong to another generation." Arthur -Weston winced. "Don't you think it's queer," she ruminated, "that a man -like Howard Maitland is satisfied to fool around with shells?" Whenever -she spoke of Howard, a dancing sense of happiness rose like a wave in -her breast. "Why doesn't he get into politics, and do something!" she -said. Her voice was disapproving, but her eyes smiled.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p><p>"Perhaps he likes to keep his hands clean."</p> - -<p>"Oh," she said, vehemently, "that's what I hate about men. The good -ones, the decent ones, are so afraid of getting a speck of dirt on -themselves! That's where women—not Grandmother's kind—are going to -save the world. <i>They</i> won't mind being smirched to save the race!"</p> - -<p>"Frederica," her listener said, calmly, "when that time comes, may God -have mercy on the race. Your grandmother (I speak generically) thought -she saved the race by keeping clean."</p> - -<p>"And letting men be—" she paused to find a sufficiently vehement word. -"It's the double standard that has landed us where we are; it has made -men vile and kept women weak. We'll go to smash unless we have one -standard."</p> - -<p>"Which one?" he asked; "yours or ours?"</p> - -<p>"You know perfectly well," she said, for once affronted.</p> - -<p>"I only asked for information. There's no denying that there are members -of your sex who rather incline to our poor way of doing things. Oh, not -that we are not a bad lot; only, to be our equals, it isn't necessary to -sit in the gutter with us. Continue to be our sup—"</p> - -<p>"Let's cut out bromides," she said. "You (I, also, speak generically)—"</p> - -<p>"Thanks so much!"</p> - -<p>"—have pulled enough of your 'superiors' down to share your gutter. -It's time now for men to get out of the gutter and come up to us."</p> - -<p>"You breathe such rarefied air," he objected. He really wished that on a -day of such limpid loveliness she would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> stop undressing life. He liked -to be amused, but once in a while Frederica was just a little too -amusing, and he was in the faintest degree bored, as one is bored by a -delightful and obstreperous child. He gazed dreamily into the spring -haze, watched a ripple spread over the lake, and noted a leaning willow -dip its flowing fingers into the water.</p> - -<p>"Did you see that fish jump?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Frederica gave a disgusted grunt. "Men are all alike. You talk common -sense to them and they go to sleep!"</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i140.jpg" id="i140.jpg"></a><img src="images/i140.jpg" alt="DID YOU SEE THAT FISH JUMP" /></div> - -<p class="bold">"DID YOU SEE THAT FISH JUMP?" HE ASKED. FREDERICA<br />GAVE A DISGUSTED GRUNT</p> - -<p>"My dear Freddy," he confessed, "you have enunciated a deep truth. The -average poor devil of a male creature, toiling and slaving and digging -into common sense to make a living, isn't very keen on having it crammed -down his throat on his afternoon out. Not that I am that kind of person. -I find your 'common sense' very diverting."</p> - -<p>A little patch of red burned in her cheeks. "That's what has kept women -slaves—'diverting' men! I believe you prefer fools, every one of you."</p> - -<p>"We like our own kind," he teased her.</p> - -<p>"Oh," she said, with sudden passion, "I am in earnest, and you won't be -serious! This is a real thing to me, this emancipation of women. It -means—a new world!"</p> - -<p>"Yet this world," he began—the world before them, with its blue -serenity of a gentle sky, its vitality of bursting buds and warm mists -and cool, lapping water; the world of a woman's soul and body—was not -this enough for any one? Why struggle for change? Why try to upset the -existing order? And Frederica, speaking of such ugly things, was so very -upsetting! As she spoke<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> she looked at him with the naked innocence -which marks the mind of the reformer—that noble and ridiculous mind -which, seeing but one thing, loses so completely its sense of -proportion. The facts she flung at him he would have hidden from the -eyes of girls. Yet he knew that they were facts.... He had protested -that women should trust the chivalry of men, and she had burst out: -"Thank you, I prefer to trust the ballot! 'Chivalry,' and women working -twelve hours a day in laundries! 'Chivalry,' and women cleaning -spittoons in beer-saloons! 'Chivalry,' and prostitution! No, sir! unless -his personal interests are concerned, man's '<i>chivalry</i>' is a pretty -rotten reed for women to lean on!"</p> - -<p>The crude words in which she swept away his comfortable evasions made -him cringe, but he could not deny their accuracy, nor avoid the -deduction that one of the reasons there continued to be "ugly" things in -the world was that until now the eyes of women had been holden that they -should not see them. Men had done this. Men had created a code which -made it a point of honor and decency to hide the truth from women; to -shield them, not from the effect of facts, but from the knowledge of -facts!</p> - -<p>Frederica's knowledge was dismaying to Arthur Weston, both from -tenderness for her and from his own esthetic sensitiveness; it was all -so unlovely!</p> - -<p>"How do other men take this sort of talk?" he asked; "the Childs boys, -for instance?"</p> - -<p>"Bobby and Payton? I would as soon talk to Zip as to them! They are like -their father; they have chubby<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> minds. Laura is the only intelligent -person in that family. She gave in to Billy-boy about the parade," Fred -said, regretfully, "but she did go with me last week when I talked -suffrage to the garment-workers. I tell you what—it took sand for Laura -to do that! Uncle William was hopping—not at her, of course, but at -wicked Freddy; and Bobby and Payton cursed me out for leading Laura into -temptation."</p> - -<p>"How about Maitland?" he asked. He had taken Frederica's hand and was -examining her seal ring. She let her fingers lie in his as lightly as -though his hand had been Zip's head, and he found himself wishing that -she were less amiable.</p> - -<p>"Howard?"—her eyes brimmed suddenly with sunshine; "oh, Howard doesn't -belong on the same bench with the chubby Childses! He <i>thinks</i>,—and he -entirely agrees with me."</p> - -<p>"Which proves that he thinks?"</p> - -<p>She saw the malice of his question, and rather sharply drew her hand -from his.</p> - -<p>"When is he coming home?" Weston asked.</p> - -<p>"November," she said, shortly, and gave a flake of lichen a vicious jab -that tossed it out into the water.</p> - -<p>"How's he getting along with his shells?"</p> - -<p>"All right, I guess. I don't hear from him very often. He's left the -region of mails. I've sent him a good many pamphlets and an abstract of -a paper I'm writing for the annual meeting of the league. One of these -days he'll stop puddling round with shells and do something, I hope. I -won't let up on him till he does."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p><p>"Merely being a fairly decent fellow isn't enough for you?"</p> - -<p>"Not <i>nearly</i> enough!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Fred, how young you are!" he sighed; then pulled Zip's tail and was -snapped at.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he looked her straight in the face. "Are you engaged to him?" -he demanded, harshly.</p> - -<p>"Heavens, no!" she said, laughing.</p> - -<p>His hands tightened around his knees; he opened his lips, then closed -them hard. "I <i>almost</i> made a fool of myself," he told himself, -afterward. However, his possibilities for folly were not visible to -Frederica, who continued to lay down the law as to the work a man ought -to do in the world. "When we get the vote," she said, "we'll show you -what a citizen's responsibilities are."</p> - -<p>"Thanks so much," he murmured. "You are going to do all the things we -do, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"Of course," she said, joyfully; "everything—and a lot you don't do -because you are too lazy!"</p> - -<p>"I suppose you will leave us the right to propose?"</p> - -<p>"I'll share it with you," she said, and they both laughed.</p> - -<p>"Oh, my dear Fred," he said, "I must come back to the chestnut: you are -our superiors, and we like you to be. I suppose that's because we are -born hunters and are keen for the unattainable. We won't bag the game if -it roosts on our fists."</p> - -<p>"Well," s he reassured him, springing to her feet, "<i>I'm</i> not going to -roost on your fist; don't be afraid!"</p> - -<p>"Try me," he said, under his breath. But she did not hear him.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p><p>"Come, Zippy, we must go home," she said, and extended a careless hand -to Arthur Weston, as if to help him rise. He pretended not to see it.</p> - -<p>("The next thing will be a wheeled chair!" he told himself, hotly.)</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> - -<p>On the first of June Frederica transferred herself and a somewhat -reluctant Flora from Payton Street to Lakeville.</p> - -<p>"Flora thinks her beau won't go out there to see her," Miss Carter -explained.</p> - -<p>"Nonsense!" Fred said. "If he wants to see her he'll come, and if he -doesn't want to see her she'd better find it out now." But she was not -entirely unsympathetic, and told Flora there would be a piano in the -cottage so that the music lessons could be continued—which raised the -cloud a little.</p> - -<p>A day or two later Mrs. Holmes called at No. 15 to bid Mrs. Payton -good-by for the summer, and the next week the Childses dropped in, in -the evening, for the same purpose. They all made their annual remark: -"How <i>can</i> you stay in town in the hot weather?" And Mrs. Payton made -her annual reply: "I hate summer resorts. I'm much more comfortable in -my own house." Nobody asked the real question, "How can you stay here -with Morty?" And Mrs. Payton never gave the real explanation: "My life -is perfectly empty except for Mortimore; that's why I stay with him."</p> - -<p>When they had all left town Mrs. Payton, who changed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> her under-flannels -and packed up her winter blankets by the calendar, put the stuffed -furniture into linen covers, and told Anne to keep the shutters bowed -all over the house—except in the ell; the sun was never shut out of the -room with the iron bars over the windows. Then summer sleepiness took -possession of the household. No one disturbed the quiet except when, -occasionally, Arthur Weston, bored and kindly, dropped in to ask for a -cup of tea. He told himself once, after a dull hour of drinking very hot -tea and listening to plaintive details of Freddy's behavior, that he was -going to leave directions in his will to have inscribed upon his -tombstone, "<i>He seen his duty, and he done it.</i>" It occurred to him that -he would not wait for the tombstone to suggest that same duty to -Frederica....</p> - -<p>As the Payton house fell into somnolence, Payton Street woke up. The -air, stagnant between sun-baked brick walls, was a medley of noises that -sometimes sank to a rumbling diapason, or sometimes stabbed the ear in -single discords: the jangle of mule-bells, the bumping of the car on the -switch, the jolt of milk-wagons over the cobblestones. In the -provision-store all day long a parrot vociferated; from the -livery-stable came the monotonous pounding of hoofs, or, when Mr. Baker -sent out a hearse and some funeral hacks, the screech of grating wheels. -Hand-organs came and went. Fruit-dealers cried their -wares—"Strawberries! Strawberries! Strawb—" The ailanthus-shaded -pavements swarmed with shrill-voiced children; they summoned one another -to pull the parrot's tail or to look at the hearse; they assailed the -ice-carts,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> reveling in the drip from the tail-boards and sucking what -bits of ice they could scrape up. Sometimes they squabbled raucously, -sometimes wept; sometimes, hushing their betraying giggles, crept into -Mrs. Payton's front yard and climbed up on the iron dog "to play -circus"—until Mrs. Payton, always on the watch, discovered them and -sent Miss Carter down to drive them away.</p> - -<p>Except for skirmishes with the marauding children, Mrs. Payton's days -were very placid. She worked out new puzzles and dozed through stories -in the magazines. She wrote twice a week dutiful letters to her mother, -pausing occasionally to think of something to say or to listen, -absently, to the swish of the watering-cart along the street; she liked -the wet smell of the watered cobblestones mingling with the heavy odor -of the blossoming ailanthus. There never seemed to be anything to tell -Mrs. Holmes, except that she had been dreadfully busy, and that the -"accommodating" waitress didn't keep her sink clean, and that the -barber's children were very trying. Every fine afternoon, sitting -opposite Miss Carter and Morty, she drove out to the park and home -again. Once she summoned up all her energy and went to Lakeville to -spend a day with Fred. She thought that if she didn't go, Freddy would -believe she preferred to stay with Morty. ("Oh, if I <i>only</i> hadn't told -her I loved him best!" she used to reproach herself.) It was a bitter -thing to Mrs. Payton to pass through Laketon and see the place where a -Payton girl ought to be, "instead of living with all kinds of people in -Lakeville!" When Fred met her at the station and brought her to the ugly -little cottage—its garish interior<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> vivid, now, with yellow -pennons—she tried, for the sake of peace, to restrain her disapproval -of everything she saw, but she couldn't help saying she wondered how -Fred could stand the solferino lamp-shade.</p> - -<p>"Hideous," Frederica said, carelessly, "so why look at it? I never look -at our Iron Virgin."</p> - -<p>"There is some difference in value," Mrs. Payton reproved her.</p> - -<p>"No, only in cost," her daughter said; then saw the color mount into her -mother's face, and gritted her teeth. ("I needn't have said that—but -it's true! Darn it, I <i>am</i> like him!") After that she tried to think of -something pleasant to say, but what was there to talk about?—only the -waitress, and the heat, and the barber's dirty children. Indeed, it -would have been difficult to decide which found that visit to the -bungalow the most trying, the mother or the daughter. Certainly it was a -relief to both of them when it was over.</p> - -<p>"Mother came out to the camp and I wasn't a bit nice to her," Fred -bemoaned herself, one day, to Arthur Weston, when he met her entering -No. 15 just as he was leaving it. He turned back and followed her into -the parlor.</p> - -<p>"And nobody can be so un-nice as you, when you put your mind on it," he -said, genially.</p> - -<p>She laughed. "You never talk through your hat to me; you're straight. -That's why I like you."</p> - -<p>"Then you'll like me more, for I'm going to be very straight," he warned -her. He looked about for any kind of a cool seat, but subsided into a -linen-covered feather-bed of a chair, close to the bust of Mr. Andrew -Payton;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> his eye-glasses on their black ribbon dangling in a thread of -sunshine, sent faint lights back and forth on the ceiling. "Life is very -dull for your mother," he said, fanning himself with his hat; "why don't -you come in oftener?"</p> - -<p>Frederica, on the piano-stool, struck a careless octave. "Life dull? -Why, I think it's wildly exciting! As for coming in, I'm too busy."</p> - -<p>"Reforming the world? You might begin the reformation by making things -happier here. Happiness is a valuable reformatory agent. You could cheer -Mrs. Payton up, but you prefer 'being busy.'"</p> - -<p>Fred colored. He had spoken to her once before in this same peremptory -way, and she had been angry; now she was embarrassed. "I'm on my job. -I've started a suffrage league—"</p> - -<p>"There are other people who can start leagues. There is only one person -who can make your mother happy."</p> - -<p>"Mr. Weston, the relative value of picture puzzles and the emancipation -of women—"</p> - -<p>That made him really indignant; he stopped fanning himself and looked at -her with hard eyes. "The doing of the immediate duty by each individual -woman will emancipate the sex a good deal quicker than talking! You -needn't stop your suffrage work to do your duty as a daughter. Did you -ever hear anything about bearing one another's burdens?"</p> - -<p>"Sounds like the Bible," Fred said.</p> - -<p>"It is. I commend the book as a course in sociology."</p> - -<p>"But," she defended herself, "I <i>do</i> come home quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> often. I'm going -to be here to-night. I'm going to a dinner dance at the Country Club, -and I'm coming back here to stay all night."</p> - -<p>"Yes, you will come for your own convenience, not your mother's -pleasure. See here, Fred! You once asked me if you were like your -father,"—involuntarily she raised her hand, as if to fend off a -blow—"I had great respect for Mr. Payton in many ways, but he had the -selfishness of power. <i>So have you.</i> Whew!" he ended, rising, "I believe -it's a hundred in the shade!"</p> - -<p>Fred was silent.</p> - -<p>"I am coming out to Lakeville in a day or two. Got my new car yesterday, -and I am burning to display it."</p> - -<p>Still she was silent. A watering-cart lumbered by and some children -squealed in a sudden cold splash.</p> - -<p>"Until now," he said, "I have believed that you were a good sport."</p> - -<p>"And now you think I'm not?"</p> - -<p>"You don't seem to know what the word Duty means;—which is another way -of saying that you don't play the game."</p> - -<p>"If the game is to make things pleasant for Mortimore, and put picture -puzzles together, I don't care to play it," she said, cockily. She -followed him to the front door and stood there as he went down the -steps. But when he reached the gate she darted after him and clapped a -frank hand on his shoulder. "<i>You're</i> a dead game sport! I don't know -any other man who'd have biffed me right in the face like that."</p> - -<p>"I skinned my own knuckles," he admitted, with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> droll gesture of -rubbing a bruised hand. "Still, I don't mind, if it does you good."</p> - -<p>"Cheer up! Maybe it will," she said, and, laughing, threw a kiss to him -and vanished into the house. He laughed, too—then frowned. "She -wouldn't have kissed her hand to Maitland. I don't count," he thought. -As he walked off, hugging the shady side of the street, he added, "I -<i>am</i> a fool!"</p> - -<p>Frederica had not the slightest intention of becoming immediately -domestic, but as she went up-stairs to dress she happened to glance down -the little corridor in the ell, and there, outside Morty's door, was -poor, faithful Miss Carter. Her one night off a week, when Mrs. Baker, -from the livery-stable, took her place, did not suffice to lessen very -much the burden of Morty's perpetual society, and that and the heat had -obviously worn upon her.</p> - -<p>"Miss Carter, why don't you go to the theater?" Frederica called to her, -impulsively. "I'll stay with Morty to-night. I suppose we can't get Mrs. -Baker on such short notice?"</p> - -<p>"No, she can't come except on her regular night; and you are going to a -dance, Miss Freddy," the tired woman objected, rather faintly.</p> - -<p>"Nonsense! I don't care about dancing. Go ahead. Get a ticket for 'Heels -and Toes.' It's corking."</p> - -<p>Her mother followed her into her room to thank her. "That's very sweet -of you, Freddy. Not that Morty needs anybody when he once gets to sleep; -so far as that goes, I don't need to go to the expense of having Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> -Baker here on Miss Carter's evenings out; but I like to feel there's -some one near, you know."</p> - -<p>"It's less lonely for you," Fred said, with unwonted insight.</p> - -<p>"Yes," Mrs. Payton agreed, wistfully. "She's somebody to talk to. You -needn't sit in Morty's room; outside the door will do. And I'll sit with -you."</p> - -<p>"I want to read, so I'll sit inside by the light."</p> - -<p>"Well, don't be nervous. He won't stir."</p> - -<p>"I'm not in the least nervous," Fred said; "I'm only—disgusted."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton's chin quivered. "You ought not to speak so about your -brother. Remember, even if he isn't—bright, he's a <i>man</i>, and the head -of the family." Fred looked at her with genuine curiosity; how could she -say a thing like that! "Besides," Mrs. Payton added, "Doctor Davis -always said his intellect was there; it isn't his fault that it is -veiled."</p> - -<p>"No, it isn't <i>his</i> fault," Frederica said, significantly. She took her -book into the bare room, which could not be carpeted or curtained -because of the poor, destroying hands that sometimes had to be tied for -fear they would claw and snatch, even at Miss Carter's heavy chair or at -the table, screwed down to the floor. There was a drop-light over the -table, and Frederica turned it on and opened her book; but she did not -read much; the snoring breath from the bed disturbed her. Instead, she -fell to thinking about Howard Maitland—sometimes she was impatient with -herself for thinking of him so constantly! But the warm satisfaction -that took possession of her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> whenever he came into her mind, was an -irresistible temptation. She did not often speculate upon his feeling -for her. "He's fond of me," she told herself, once in a while, -contentedly. That some time he would tell her he was fond of her was a -matter of course. Just now, she fell to calculating how soon her last -letter would reach him. One from him, acknowledging the receipt of some -suffrage literature, had come that morning. "I don't believe one woman -in fifty has your brains," he had written. Fred smiled; when he came -home in November she would show him those "brains"! Apparently, Mr. -Arthur Weston did not take much stock in them—"He prefers the domestic -virtues," she thought, with a flash of amusement. "I wonder if I'm -domestic enough to suit him, to-night? I suppose he would think it was -better to sit with an idiot than to try to move the world along!" But -the next minute she was contrite. "He can't help being old. I suppose -this is the sort of thing his generation calls 'Duty'!"</p> - -<p>She might have reflected further upon the foolishness of the past -generation, if just then Mrs. Payton had not come stealthily along the -hall. She stood in the doorway, raising a cautioning finger.</p> - -<p>"Oh, you can't wake him," Frederica said, in her natural voice. But Mrs. -Payton spoke in a whisper.</p> - -<p>"Freddy, isn't your cottage damp—so near the lake? There's no surer way -to take cold than—"</p> - -<p>"Not a bit damp!"</p> - -<p>"Does Flora make good coffee for you?"</p> - -<p>"Bully."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p><p>"I hope she's more contented. Miss Carter says the whole trouble with -Flora is she wants to get married, but she makes herself so cheap the -men won't look at her."</p> - -<p>Fred frowned. That word "cheap" always irritated her.</p> - -<p>"Miss Carter is a good woman," Mrs. Payton went on, "but she's a little -coarse once in a while."</p> - -<p>"I suppose Flora wants a home of her own," Fred said, yawning; "when -women have no brains they have to marry for homes."</p> - -<p>"All women want homes, whether they have brains or not," said Mrs. -Payton; "where would they have their babies if they didn't have homes? -Freddy, it must be very lonely for you in Lakeville. Your Uncle William -is really shocked about it. He says there are no people of our class -there."</p> - -<p>"Billy-boy is correct. I had two people of the better class in to supper -last night—<i>workers</i>. Mother, one of the things the women's vote is -going to do, besides giving the Floras of the world a chance to be -independent of men, is to obliterate class lines."</p> - -<p>"Then it will have to obliterate life," Mrs. Payton whispered. "Women -need men to take care of them. And as for class, God makes a difference -in people. You can't vote God down."</p> - -<p>It was so unusual for Mrs. Payton to set her opinion against her -daughter's that Frederica laughed, in spite of herself. Mrs. Payton -laughed a little, too; then they both looked at the bed, but the heavy -breathing went steadily on.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p><p>"Your grandmother thinks," Mrs. Payton said, impulsively, "that you -would have more beaux if we lived up on the Hill."</p> - -<p>"That's like her."</p> - -<p>"Freddy dear, you know I have to stay here on account of Morty? Not that -I'd do more for him than for you—I love you both <i>just</i> the same! But I -couldn't take him up on the Hill."</p> - -<p>"'Course you couldn't! Mother, for the Lord's sake, don't listen to -Grandmother! She's one of the type that keeps the world back."</p> - -<p>"She doesn't like change, that's all," Mrs. Payton explained. She came -in and sat down at the table.</p> - -<p>"Yes; she doesn't like change," Fred agreed. "If Nature had listened to -Grandmother we'd all be protoplasm still. Probably the grandmother of -the first worm that sprouted legs, kicked. No, she couldn't kick," Fred -said, chuckling, "because she didn't have the legs she despised; she -just said, 'It isn't <i>done</i>!'"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton looked perfectly blank.</p> - -<p>"I'm going to use that idea in my paper," Fred said, with satisfaction.</p> - -<p>"Do you think Howard Maitland likes you to write papers, dear?"</p> - -<p>"Likes me to? Why shouldn't he? It wouldn't make a bit of difference to -me whether he did or not, but as he has ordinary garden sense, I am sure -he doesn't dislike it."</p> - -<p>"Men," Mrs. Payton said, timidly, "don't like clever women."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p><p>"Clever men do."</p> - -<p>"Your dear father was clever—but he married me."</p> - -<p>The simplicity of that was touching, even to Frederica.</p> - -<p>"You were a thousand times too good for him!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton was pleased, but she made the proper protest: "Oh, my -<i>dear</i>! I had a letter from your grandmother yesterday; she thinks it's -shocking—your living in Lakeville alone."</p> - -<p>"Go on!" Frederica said, contemptuously.</p> - -<p>"Hush-sh!" Mrs. Payton cautioned her.</p> - -<p>Fred shrugged her shoulders. "You can't wake—<i>That</i>. Talk about being -shocked,—I suppose it never occurred to Uncle William or Grandmother -that their ideas of what is and isn't shocking, produced That?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton shrunk away as if her daughter had struck her; she murmured, -chokingly, some wounded remonstrance, then tiptoed through the shadowy -hall into the sitting-room. At the table, spread with an unfinished game -of Canfield, she sat down, drearily. This was what always happened; they -simply could not get along together! Whenever she held out empty hands, -begging for love, they were slapped. She began to shuffle the cards, -wondering painfully if it was because Freddy was still brooding over -that thing she said about loving Mortimore best. "I'm afraid she's -jealous," Mrs. Payton sighed.</p> - -<p>Frederica, alone, reflected upon her mother's assertion that men -disliked clever women. It annoyed her, not because there was any truth -in it, but because it reminded her of Woman's cowardly acquiescence in -Man's estimate of her intelligence. Of course it was all right about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> -Howard; Howard had sense! But men generally—did they really dislike -clever women? If so, it merely meant that they were afraid of Truth. -They wanted women to be timid, and pretty, and useless: to be slaves and -playthings!—so they fooled them into the belief that silliness was -attractive, and that slavery and virtue were the same thing. It was men -who had taught women to believe that awful thing her mother had said -about Morty's being "the head of the family"; had taught them to believe -that a man—not because he was good, or wise, or strong, but because he -was a <i>man</i>—was the one to rule!</p> - -<p>"No wonder we are slaves; we've swallowed that lie since Adam. Well, -there'll be none of it in mine!" she said. What was going to be in -"hers"? Business, to begin with. She was going to make a success of her -business. Her books had shown a better month—they should show a still -better month, if she wore her shoes out walking about town to please -clients! Yes, Success! It was not a personal ambition: there was no -self-seeking in Fred Payton; she wanted to succeed because her success -would show what women could do; show that a woman was as able as a -man—as wise, as good ("better! better!" she told herself); show that a -woman could rule, could achieve, could be "the head of the family"! The -thing that was to be "in hers" was work to free women from the shackles -of the old ideals, from content in sex slavery, with all its ignorances -and futilities, its slackness of purpose and shameful timidities, that a -man-made world had called "duties." And Howard, who was not "afraid of -clever women," would help her! A passion of consecration to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> the woman's -cause rose in her heart like a wave. For the next hour she walked up and -down the dimly lighted room, planning what she was going to do for -women.</p> - -<p>It was nearly twelve when Miss Carter's ponderous step told her she was -free. She laughed good-naturedly at the thanks the refreshed woman was -eager to give, but just as she was leaving the room Miss Carter's last -word caught her ear:</p> - -<p>"I've had such a pleasant time, Miss Freddy. I'll do my work better for it."</p> - -<p>'Do her work better.'... In her eagerness to do her own work Fred had -never thought very much of other people's; but what a different world it -would be if everybody did their work better! "If every woman did her -best on her job, even if it were only taking care of Mortimores, it -would help things along," she told herself. "It's slackness on the job -that holds the world back." Looked at from that angle, then—the -bettering of Miss Carter's work—perhaps it did count to make things -pleasant at Payton Street? The idea put a new light on Mr. Weston's -call-down. Bearing other people's burdens had seemed not in the least -worth while; but if cheering people up helped them to do their -work—work which, after all, had to be done, somehow!—why, then there -was sense in it. She saw no sense in "cheering" her mother, for her -mother did nothing at all. Frederica had no dutiful illusions; Mrs. -Payton was an absolutely useless human being—and her daughter was -perfectly aware of it. "<i>She</i> has no burden to bear," Fred thought, -carelessly. "But to give old fat Carter a hand by just amusing -her,—that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> helps the doing of work; and <i>that</i> counts! I'll come in -oftener," she decided.</p> - -<p>So, in her own fashion, by a back door, so to speak, Frederica Payton -entered into the old idea of <i>Duty</i>.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> - -<p>Fred was eager to impart to her man of business her wonderful discovery -that visits to Payton Street should be made, not because of "duty," but -because they were of value to the world.</p> - -<p>"Your premises were wrong, but your deductions were correct," she -instructed him, and he roared with laughter.</p> - -<p>"Fred, you'll discover the Ten Commandments next. It's the same old -result, only you call it by a different name. But go ahead; run the -universe! I don't care what kind of oil you use, so long as the gears -don't stick."</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston's metaphors confessed the fact that he had achieved a motor -so that he might go thirty miles for a cup of tea. He used to come out -to the camp two or three times a week, and, shading his eyes from the -magenta lamp-shade, and the frieze of Japanese fans, and the yellow -"Votes for Women" flags, listen dreamily to Fred's theories for the -running of the universe, and also to that paper on which she was so hard -at work. She wanted his criticism, she said, but, of course, what she -really wanted was his praise. She got it—meagerly, and with so many -qualifications that, when all was said, it hardly seemed like praise at -all. That he was doing his best to make her carry her little torch so -that it might shed its glimmer of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> light, yet not set things on fire, -never occurred to her. If it had, she would have resented it hotly. As -it was, his temperance never checked her vehemence, but neither did it -irritate her. Her arrogant and shallow certainties, on the contrary, did -occasionally irritate him, and, of course, they never brought him any -conviction; but they did oblige him to be intellectually candid with -himself, and his candor brought him to the point of telling her that he -thought her generation better than his, because it was not afraid of -Truth. "So, perhaps you women may save civilization," he said.</p> - -<p>"Hooray!" said Fred.</p> - -<p>"Hold on," he told her, dryly; "cheers are premature. What I mean is -that feminism, with its hideously bad taste and its demand for Truth, is -<i>here</i>, whether we like it or not! It <i>may</i> make the world over, or it -may send us all on the rocks."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense!"</p> - -<p>"The hope in it is your brand-new sense of social responsibility. The -menace is your conceited individualism."</p> - -<p>"Of course you are not conceited yourself," she said, sweetly.</p> - -<p>"I wish you wouldn't interrupt me! I concede that your sense of -responsibility needs the tool of the ballot, just as a farmer needs a -spade when he wants to raise a crop of potatoes. That is why I am -compelled to call myself a suffragist."</p> - -<p>"Hooray!" she said again.</p> - -<p>He looked at her drolly. "It's queer about you—not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> <i>you</i>, but your -sex; you are mentally, but not emotionally, interesting. You are not -nearly as charming as the ladies of my youth; you have no sense of -proportion, and you jolt the life out of a man, by trying to jump the -track the minute you get tired of the scenery. Also you are occasionally -boring. But you can't help that; you are reformers."</p> - -<p>"Are reformers bores?" she said.</p> - -<p>"<i>Always!</i>" he declared.</p> - -<p>"Why?"</p> - -<p>"Because," he said, dryly, "they never suffer from any impediment in -their speech."</p> - -<p>Yet he was not so much bored that he stayed away from Lakeville. The -place itself seemed to him entirely funny. Its very respectable -population was made up of hardworking, good-naturedly vulgar folk, whose -taste was painful or amusing, as you might happen to look at it. Once -Fred made him stay to supper, and afterward go to a party with her and -Laura—whose presence had been secured by judicious pressure upon -Billy-boy. This especial festivity was called a "can-can" because the -guests' idea of humor consisted in wearing a string of empty tin cans -over their shoulders, with a resultant noise when they danced which -gave, it seemed, a peculiar joy. Frederica's man of business, sitting on -a bench with several gentlemen who mopped themselves breathlessly after -their exertions and were obviously comfortable in their shirtsleeves, -laughed until, he said, his sides ached.</p> - -<p>"You <i>like</i> it, Fred?" he asked, incredulously—she and Laura had taken -him home with them to give him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span>something cool to drink before he -started on his midnight spin into town.</p> - -<p>"Love it!" she said.</p> - -<p>"Well," he said, "it seems to be a case of 'give me heaven for climate, -but hell for company!' It would bore me to death."</p> - -<p>They were on the little front porch of Sunrise Cottage—Laura lounging -on the lowest step, looking up at the stars, and Arthur Weston sitting -on the railing, sipping ginger-ale. Frederica, standing up, began to -expatiate on the woman's club she had organized. After the first meeting -she had turned it into a suffrage league, under the admiring eyes of -ladies who whispered to each other that she was <i>the</i> Miss -Payton—"<i>you</i> know? Society girl. Why, my husband says the Paytons -could buy up every house in Lakeville and not know they'd put their -hands in their pockets!" Fred had constant afternoon teas for these -ladies—which would have been pleasanter if Flora, when waiting upon -them, had been less haughty.</p> - -<p>"She calls all our neighbors 'common people,'" Fred said.</p> - -<p>Laura laughed: "Wait till we get the vote and we'll have equality, won't -we, Fred?"</p> - -<p>"You bet we will!"</p> - -<p>"You won't," Weston assured them, "because there ain't no such thing. My -dear infants, the Lord made us different, and no vote can change His -arrangements."</p> - -<p>"That's what Mother said; I was quite astonished to have Mother pull off -an opinion on me," Fred said.</p> - -<p>"Your mother has a great many opinions, and mighty sensible ones, too."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p><p>She gave him a surprised look, like a child catching an older person in -a foolish statement. "Oh, well," she said, "of course, it's hard for -people of your generation to keep up with the procession."</p> - -<p>If he flinched, nobody saw it. "You being the 'procession,' I suppose?" -he said, raising an amiable eyebrow—but he did not feel amiable. Then -he looked at his watch and said he must start.</p> - -<p>"Oh, don't go!" Fred entreated.</p> - -<p>"You two girls ought to be in bed," he said. They went with him and -watched him crank his machine; as he threw in the clutch, he called -back, a little anxiously, "Make her loaf, Laura! She's tired."</p> - -<p>Indoors, while they were locking up, Laura giggled. "He's daft about -you, Freddy!"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Weston? My dear, you're mad! He looks on me as a granddaughter."</p> - -<p>"Those aunts or cousins, or whatever they are, of his," Laura said, -sleepily, "are at the hotel, and I went with Mother to call on them. The -old one, who looks like an eagle, is perfectly sweet; but the -pouter-pigeon one said that she did not think the young woman of to-day, -who went into business, 'was calculated to make any man happy.' 'Course, -I knew she was afraid you would catch 'dear Arthur'! But really—"</p> - -<p>"Come on," Fred interrupted, starting up-stairs.</p> - -<p>Laura stumbled along behind her. "Really, I think he is gone on you."</p> - -<p>"Goose!" The idea was too absurd to discuss; instead, when she was -combing her hair Fred called through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> the partition that separated the -tiny bedrooms and said she wanted to tell Laura something.</p> - -<p>"Come in!" Laura called back; and Frederica, comb in hand, came in, and -sat on the edge of the bed. At first she talked about Flora, who didn't -like to come out to the camp, because it took her away from her beau. -"The McKnight chauffeur is very attentive," Fred said; "fortunately for -me, Jack's going off with the car for all of August, or I'm afraid she'd -leave me, so as to get back to town. Isn't it funny how crazy women in -the lower classes are to get married?"</p> - -<p>Laura nodded, sleepily.</p> - -<p>"Want me to read you Howard's last letter?" Fred said, and took it out -of the pocket of her kimono.</p> - -<p>Laura, curled up on the bed, listened. "He's right," she said, when -Frederica, with due carelessness, read Howard's panegyrics on her -brains; "you are terribly clever, Freddy."</p> - -<p>"Go off!" Fred said. "Laura, he's awfully down on Jack McKnight. You -wouldn't look at him, would you?"</p> - -<p>"At Jack? The idea! If there wasn't another man in the world, I wouldn't -look at Jack."</p> - -<p>"I want you to do something," Fred said.</p> - -<p>"All right. What?"</p> - -<p>"It will take nerve."</p> - -<p>Laura opened her eyes quickly. "If it's another parade—"</p> - -<p>"No! No! Nothing like that. Parades are only to show the strength of the -attacking army. I want you to <i>attack</i>!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p><p>Laura sighed. "But Father and Mother are so opposed—"</p> - -<p>"This is something personal I want you to do."</p> - -<p>Laura was obviously relieved.</p> - -<p>"It's about Jack McKnight. When he proposes to you—"</p> - -<p>"He won't."</p> - -<p>"Don't be silly! He will if you let him. And I want you to let him. -Then, when you turn him down, tell him <i>why</i>."</p> - -<p>"Why? He'll know why! Because I'm not in love with him."</p> - -<p>"I want you to tell him the reason you're not in love with him."</p> - -<p>Laura, flushing to her temples, sat up in bed. "It's none of his -business! Or,—or anybody's!"</p> - -<p>"It <i>is</i> his business—to know that a decent woman won't look at a fast -man!"</p> - -<p>"Oh," Laura said, tumbling back on her pillow, "I didn't know you meant -that. I thought you meant ... something else."</p> - -<p>"That's what I'm up to," Frederica said. "I'm going to get all the girls -I know to promise, not only that they won't play with dissipated -fellows, but that they'll tell 'em straight out why they won't!"</p> - -<p>Laura was silent.</p> - -<p>"Truth!" Fred said, flinging up her head, her hair falling back over her -shoulders, and her eyes bold and innocent. "Truth is what we want! If we -can get this bill through the Legislature—'no marriage without a clean<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> -bill of health'—we'll accomplish a lot for the sake of Truth. I wish -you'd signed the petition, Laura. You believe in it?"</p> - -<p>"Of course I believe in it. But imagine trying to make Mama understand -it!—and Father would have had a fit."</p> - -<p>"That's the trouble with women!" Fred said, passionately. "We've been -too much afraid of men having fits. Let 'em have fits! It will be good -for them. We've let them demand that we should be straight, and we've -never had the sand to demand that they should be straight, too. But -we're going to do it now. We are going to demand <i>Truth</i>! Oh," she said, -tears suddenly standing in her eyes, "just plain truth, between men and -women, nothing more than that,—would make the world over!"</p> - -<p>Laura sighed and shook her head. "As for playing only with the straight -ones, I don't see how we can know? It doesn't seem fair not to dance -with a man just because some other girl tells you she's heard -something—you'd always hear it from a girl."</p> - -<p>"General reputation," Fred began; but still Laura hesitated.</p> - -<p>"Well, then, when we <i>do</i> know it of ourselves, let's hold together and -turn 'em down. Everybody knows Jack drinks. I've seen him when he was -pretty well loaded," Fred said, her lip drooping with disgust. "He's -crazy about you, Laura; give him a leg up by telling him why you -wouldn't look at him!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Freddy, really—"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p><p>"This is what I'm going to work for," Frederica said, "to teach women -to teach men! It's our job, because women are more intelligent than -men."</p> - -<p>"I don't think Mother is more intelligent than Father," Laura demurred.</p> - -<p>Fred swallowed her opinion of the collective Childses' intelligence; -"I've thought it all out," she said; "I'm going to give my life up to -urging women to set the pace! And we've both of us got to marry men who -will join our crusade."</p> - -<p>"They won't," Laura prophesied; then added, with sudden, frowning -decision: "anyhow, so far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter. I'm not -going to marry anybody."</p> - -<p>Fred gave her a quick look. "Why?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I don't want to."</p> - -<p>"Of course, marriage generally hampers a woman," Frederica conceded. -"Perhaps because most of us are tied down to the old idea that it's got -to be permanent,—which might be a dreadful bore! I suppose that's a -hold-over from the time that we were chattels, and men taught us to feel -that marriage was permanent—for <i>us</i>! They didn't bother much with -permanence for themselves! But I admit that marriage—as men have made -it, entirely for their own comfort and convenience, with its drudgery of -looking after children—is stunting to women. Queer, though, how they -don't mind it! Look at the girls we know—Rose Marks and Mary Morton, -and the rest of our class who are married—they haven't a thought above -their babies and their owners—<i>they</i> call 'em 'husbands'! Did you know -Rose has resigned from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> league? She says she hasn't time to attend -the meetings; but I know better. It's because that perfectly piffling -Marks man (how <i>could</i> she marry him?—he has no nose, to speak of, and -such a silly chin!) doesn't approve of us. I suppose you think it's -better for a woman not to marry if she really wants to accomplish -anything?"</p> - -<p>"Well, no; not just that. Men marry, and yet they accomplish things," -Laura said.</p> - -<p>Frederica frowned. The suggestion of a fundamental difference in men and -women annoyed her. "Of course, it doesn't follow that a woman stands -still when she marries. If she and the man are in absolute sympathy, -intellectually, she needn't vegetate. For my part, I expect to marry,—I -want children. But I shall go on with my work. I consider my work of -more importance than putting babies to sleep!"</p> - -<p>"Everybody can't afford to have somebody put their babies to sleep for -them," Laura objected.</p> - -<p>"Fortunately I can! I shall have a trained nurse. When a child is well, -a trained nurse is every bit as good as a mother. And when it is ill, -she's better."</p> - -<p>"Suppose your husband doesn't think so?"</p> - -<p>"Then he won't be my husband! But I sha'n't run any such risk! I shall -marry a man who absolutely agrees with me in everything."</p> - -<p>"Maybe he'd like you to agree with him."</p> - -<p>"I will, after I've pulled him up to my level," Fred said, grinning.</p> - -<p>"I suppose Mr. Howard Ferguson Maitland doesn't need any pulling up?" -her cousin said, softly.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p><p>Fred's face burned red. "My dear, he is not the only pebble on the -beach!"</p> - -<p>"He gets home in November," Laura said. "Freddy, it's nearly one, and -I'm perfectly dead with sleep!"</p> - -<p>Frederica laughed and got up; then hesitated. There was a little droop -in Laura's face that she didn't like. "Lolly," she said, "you're -bothered. Is it—Jack?"</p> - -<p>"Darn Jack!" Laura said. "I loathe him."</p> - -<p>"Good girl!" Fred said, with a relieved look. "You scared the stuffing -out of me for a minute!"</p> - -<p>"You needn't be worried," Laura told her, dryly. "Jack has not played -with my young affections. Oh, no; I'm cut out for an old maid! I'm not -clever like you."</p> - -<p>Frederica, in genuine relief from that moment of anxiety, was betrayed -into reassuring truth-telling: "Mother says men don't like clever -women."</p> - -<p>"If Aunt Bessie could hear H. M. talk about you she'd change her mind."</p> - -<p>Fred threw an impulsive arm about her and kissed her. "Oh, <i>Laura</i>!" she -said. Laura laughed, and kissed her back again, and said if she didn't -get out she'd fall asleep in her arms.</p> - -<p>But when Fred, blushing like any ordinary girl, had left her to those -deferred slumbers, Laura Childs lay awake a long time....</p> - -<p>Frederica, alone in her tiny room, had a very sober minute. As she -thought it over, Laura's "loathing" did not seem quite convincing. -"She's got something on her chest," Fred said. Even when they were -little girls she had loved her cousin more than any one in the world, -and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> to have Laura depressed disturbed her sharply. "<i>Can</i> it be Jack?" -she asked herself. "I wish Payton or Bobby would kick him!" That she -should hand the infliction of such chastisement over to a brother showed -that Fred could revert to the type she despised. But she was so troubled -about Lolly that she almost forgot her satisfaction in being told—what -she already knew!—that Howard appreciated her cleverness.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> - -<p>Except for the Lakeville ladies, so looked down upon by Flora, Fred had -very few visitors that summer. Even Laura did not come very often, -though Lakeville was only five miles from Laketon. Perhaps she was -afraid of being asked questions. In September both girls were invited by -a school friend to come to the seashore for two or three weeks, but -Laura waited to know that Fred had declined the invitation ("I can't -fool with Society. I'm on my job!" said Fred) before she, Laura, -accepted it.</p> - -<p>There was, however, one formal call which gave Frederica great joy; her -grandmother and Miss Eliza Graham came over from the Laurels to see -her—and she never behaved more outrageously! She told Mr. Weston -afterward that she had had the time of her life joshing Mrs. Holmes. He -assured her that she was an imp, but that he would gladly have paid the -price of admission if he had only known that the circus was going to -take place. He asked his cousin about it afterward, but her description -of the scene was not so funny as Fred's. Indeed, it was rather -pathetic—poor Freddy, fighting her grandmother, while Miss Eliza stood -outside the ring, so to speak, and watched, pityingly.</p> - -<p>"For there's nothing one can do for her, Arthur," Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> Eliza told him; -"she's got to get some very hard knocks before she'll give up advising -the Creator how to manage His world."</p> - -<p>She and Mr. Weston had found a deserted spot on the veranda at the -Laurels, and she told him what she thought of Freddy. "It's a sort of -violent righteousness that possesses the child," she said. "Where does -she come from, Arthur? That mother! That grandmother! She must be a -foundling."</p> - -<p>"Her father had power. His righteousness was not very violent, but his -temper was."</p> - -<p>"She must make her mother very unhappy."</p> - -<p>"Yeast makes dough uncomfortable, I suppose," he admitted.</p> - -<p>"She's an unscrupulous truth-teller," Miss Graham said, and repeated -some of the impertinently accurate things that Frederica, sitting in her -ugly little living-room, with the Japanese fans on the walls, and yellow -"Votes for Women" pennons over the doors, had flung at Mrs. Holmes. "Her -grandmother said the 'women of to-day cheapened themselves'; to which -she replied that 'the women of yesterday were dear at any price'!"</p> - -<p>"She told me she had merely been truthful," Mr. Weston said. "Justifying -herself on the ground of Truth is Fred's form of repentance. But the -girl <i>suffers</i>, Cousin Eliza!"</p> - -<p>"She'll have to suffer a good deal before she'll amount to anything," -Miss Eliza said, dryly; "I wanted to shake her! Arthur, if you had any -missionary spirit, you would marry her."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p><p>"But Cousin Mary says she is 'not a young woman who is calculated'—"</p> - -<p>They both laughed. "Nonsense! If she gets a master, she'll make him -happy. A good-natured boy won't do. The gray mare would be the better -horse. Marry her and beat her."</p> - -<p>"Maitland will have to do the beating," he said. But he could not evade -her.</p> - -<p>"Don't be a fool. Take her! I know you want her."</p> - -<p>"I do," he confessed. "But the little matter of her not wanting me seems -to be an obstacle."</p> - -<p>Miss Eliza, her old eagle head silhouetted against the dazzle of the -lake, meditated; then she said, "Is she engaged to Mr. Maitland?"</p> - -<p>"No, but she's going to be. Besides, dear lady, I am forty-seven and she -is twenty-six. Youth calls to Youth! Please don't suggest that she might -prefer to be an 'old man's darling.'"</p> - -<p>"You're not an old man. But the average young man—if he fell in love -with her—would be under her thumb."</p> - -<p>"Why do you say 'if'? Maitland has fallen in love with her, head over -heels! He can't stop talking about her brains for five minutes at a -time!"</p> - -<p>Miss Eliza gave him a keen look. "Well, perhaps human nature has changed -since my time. Then, a boy didn't fall in love with a girl's brains, -though a grown man sometimes did. Cleverness in a girl is like -playfulness in a kitten; it amuses a middle-aged man. The next thing he -knows, he's in love!"</p> - -<p>"Amuses!" Arthur Weston broke in, cynically; "to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> 'amuse' a middle-aged -man doesn't seem a very satisfying occupation for a girl. Don't you -think she'd rather have a boy's ridiculously solemn devotion?"</p> - -<p>"But don't I tell you?—Love comes next! And I know you are in love, -because you are so foolish. Arthur, I'm ashamed of you! Do have some -spunk. Get her! Get her! I don't believe she's in love with that boy."</p> - -<p>He gave a rather hopeless laugh. "Oh, yes, she is. I haven't the ghost -of a chance; besides—" he paused, took off his glasses, and put them on -again, with deliberation—"besides, if I had a chance, I'd be a cur to -take it. As you know, I had a blow below the belt. A man never quite -gets his wind again, after a little affair like mine. It would be great -luck for me to have Fred, but what sort of luck would it be for her to -spend her life '<i>amusing</i>' me?"</p> - -<p>"Nonsense! I won't listen to such—" she paused, while three girls, -romping along, arm in arm, swept past them, down the veranda. "Pretty -things, aren't they?" she said, looking after them with tender old eyes; -"how lovely Youth is!—even when it does its best to be ugly as to -clothes and manners, like two of those youngsters. They didn't even see -us, they were so absorbed in being young, bless their hearts! The -outside one who bowed is a Wharton girl. She is a charming child, -charming! And doing wonderfully at college. But those others—!"</p> - -<p>"Awful," he agreed. "Cousin Eliza, what's the matter with women, -nowadays?"</p> - -<p>"Perfectly simple. They are drunk!"</p> - -<p>"Drunk?"</p> - -<p>"With the sudden sense of freedom. My dear boy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> reflect: When you were -born—no, you're too young"—he waved a deprecating hand, but he liked -the phrase—"when <i>I</i> was born—that's seventy-three years ago—women -were dependent upon your delightful sex; so, of course, they were -cowards and you were bullies. Oh, yes; there were exceptions! There were -courageous women, and henpecked men. And, of course, cowardice didn't -always know it was cowardly, and bullying was often nothing but -kindness. But you can say what you please, women were not free! They had -to do what their men wanted—or quarrel with their families, and strike -out for themselves! And what was there for them to do to earn their -living? Outside of domestic service, nothing but teaching, sewing, and -Sairey Gamp nursing! When I was a girl I did not know enough to teach -and I hated sewing. So, if I had wanted to do anything my father and -mother didn't approve of, I couldn't have kicked up my heels and said, -'I'll support myself!' Besides, I shouldn't have dared. The Fifth -Commandment was still in existence when I was young. But now," she -ended, "that's all changed. Girls can kick up their heels whenever they -feel like it!"</p> - -<p>He laughed, and said that Fred Payton had kicked entirely over the -traces.</p> - -<p>"She's not the only one," Miss Graham said; "those three girls who -passed us have done it. That nice Wharton child is going to study law, -if you please! Yes, Freedom! It's gone to their heads; it's champagne on -empty stomachs. Empty only for the last two generations—before that -there were endless occupations to fill our stomachs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> (My metaphors are -a little mixed!) When I was a girl, the daughters of a house, even when -people were as well off as Father, always had things to do—'Duties,' we -called them. But nowadays there's not enough housework to go round; so -if girls are rich, they play at work in—in anything, just to kill time! -Like your Miss Freddy."</p> - -<p>"Fred is making a success of her real-estate business," he said; "I -hadn't a particle of faith in it, but she's making it go."</p> - -<p>"It doesn't matter whether you have faith or not; the change has come: -<i>she had to have something to do</i>! That's the secret of the situation, -and there's no use kicking against it. You men have just got to accept -the fact of the change. All you can do is to fall back on the thing that -hasn't changed, and never can change, and never will change. Give girls -that and they will get sober!"</p> - -<p>He looked puzzled.</p> - -<p>"My dear boy, let them be <i>women</i>, be wives, be mothers! Then being -suffragists, or real-estate agents, or anything else, won't do them the -slightest harm. Marry them, Arthur, marry them!"</p> - -<p>"All of them?" he protested, in alarm.</p> - -<p>She laughed, but held her own. "I always tell Mary that all that nice, -bad child, your Freddy Payton, needs, is a husband. Which Mary thinks is -very indelicate in me. But it's true. As for suffrage that the women are -all cackling about, I don't care a—a—"</p> - -<p>"Damn?" he suggested.</p> - -<p>"Copper," she reproved him. "I don't care a copper about it! I've always -called myself an anti, but I never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> really gave it much thought, one way -or the other, until I went to an anti-suffrage meeting last year; that -made me a suffragist! I declare, the foolishness of some of their -arguments against voting went a long ways toward proving that perhaps -they really <i>haven't</i> the brains to vote! Somebody said—Bessie Childs, -I believe it was—that the ballot would take woman out of the Home. I -reflected that Bridge took Bessie out of her home, for three or four -hours once a week, and voting would take her out for three or four -minutes, once a year. But I kept quiet until somebody intimated that the -'hand that rocks the cradle' is not competent, if you please, to deposit -a ballot! Then I stood right up in meeting, and said, 'I'm only a poor -old maid, but to my way of thinking, if the hand is as incompetent as -that, it is far more dangerous to trust a cradle to it than a ballot!'"</p> - -<p>"What did they say to that?"</p> - -<p>"They said a cradle was every woman's first duty. 'But it would be most -improper in me to have a cradle!' I said. I know they thought me -coarse."</p> - -<p>"So you are a suffragist?"</p> - -<p>"Indeed I'm not! I went to a suffrage meeting, and really, Arthur, I was -ashamed of my sex; such violence! such conceit! such shallowness! such -impropriety! One of them said that any married woman whose husband did -not believe in suffrage should leave him or else have branded on her -forehead a word—I cannot repeat to you the word she used. And another -of them said that all the antis were 'idiotic droolers.' I thought of my -dear sister, and I just couldn't stand that! I said, 'Well, ladies, if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> -the women who don't want the vote are idiots, is it wise to thrust it -upon them? Will idiots make good voters?'"</p> - -<p>"You had 'em there."</p> - -<p>"No; they just said 'the vote would educate women.' And as for women not -wanting it—'why, we'll cram it down their throats,' one of them said. -Nice idea of democracy, wasn't it? She explained that some slaves hadn't -wanted freedom, but that was no reason for not abolishing slavery! And, -of course, she was right. The suffragists have brains, you know, Arthur. -Well, as a result of a dose of each party, I'm nothing at all—very -much."</p> - -<p>"You're agin' 'em both?" he suggested.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I still call myself an anti, because the antis are, at least, -harmless; but I really don't care much, one way or the other. No; the -thing that troubles me isn't suffrage or non-suffrage; it's the fact -that somehow women seem to be fighting Nature. <i>That</i> worries me. I know -that Nature can be depended upon to spank them into common sense when -she gets hold of them, but, unfortunately, men won't help Nature out. -They don't like girls like Miss Payton—I mean, the young men don't. -They don't like girls who are cleverer than they are; but no girl is -cleverer than you! Do 'come out of the West, Lochinvar, come out of the -West'!"</p> - -<p>He laughed and shook his head. "My dear cousin, I am dead in love with -you, so don't try to turn my affections in another direction. Besides, -Howard Maitland is coming home the end of November."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> - -<p>But it was the middle of October that saw Howard Maitland back again in -town. In spite of Frederica's friendly assurance that Jack McKnight -hadn't a ghost of a chance, that "queue" lining up at Mr. William -Childs's front door-steps bothered him. So, with many large cases of -specimens, and a mahogany tan on his lean face, he arrived, one morning, -on the Western express. He hardly waited to remove the evidences of -several nights in the sleeping-car, before reconnoitering the Childs -house. The queue was not visible, but neither was Laura. She was in -Philadelphia, a maid told him, and would not be back for another week. -He went off rather crestfallen.</p> - -<p>"I'll go and see Freddy," he consoled himself.</p> - -<p>As he shot up in an elevator in the Sturtevant Building, whom should he -run across but old Weston! "I'm on my way to the real-estate office," he -said, grinning like the cub he was, at Fred's plaything.</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston did not grin. "I believe she's in her office. Thought you -weren't to get home until next month?"</p> - -<p>"Wasn't. But—well, I got kind of stale on shells, and I thought I'd -like some smoke and soot for a change. So I came home. Oh—you get off -here?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p><p>"Yes," Mr. Weston said, briefly, and stepped out into the echoing -corridor. In his private office he sat down, and, with his hands in his -pockets, his legs stretched out in front of him, regarded his boots.</p> - -<p>"Well, he's back," he said to himself.</p> - -<p>After a long time he got up, put on his hat, and, heedless of the -questioning young lady at the typewriter, slammed his office door behind -him. "I'm hard hit," he told himself, roughly, as he stepped into the -descending elevator. "It appears that I am capable of feeling something -more than '<i>amusement</i>.' I'll go and buy the wedding-present. The -application of a check that I can't afford may be curative."</p> - -<p>The cure would have seemed still more necessary if he could have seen -how Howard was welcomed in the real-estate office. Frederica's -astonished pleasure was as frank as a man's.</p> - -<p>"Good work!" she said, and struck her hand into his. "But I didn't -expect you for a month!"</p> - -<p>"I couldn't stand it any longer," he told her, joyously. "How's -business? How's Laura?"</p> - -<p>"Well, clients are not exactly blocking the corridors," she said; "but -I'm bursting with pride; I came out ahead last month!"</p> - -<p>"Gee!" he said, admiringly. "Well, tell us the news!"</p> - -<p>"I've finished my paper," she said. She pushed an open map aside so that -she could sit on the edge of her big office table, and looked at him -delightedly. "I'm crazy to read it to you. Sit down and light up!" She -struck a match on the sole of her shoe, and handed it to him.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p><p>"I'm crazy to hear it! Laura's skiddooed. I went to Billy-boy's"—he -blew the match out and dropped it on the floor;—"and got thrown down on -the front steps."</p> - -<p>"Yes, she's playing around with the Mortons. I was asked, but—there are -so many more interesting things here! Howard, they are talking about -abolishing the red-light district, and we're going to get that bill I -wrote you about, through the Legislature, if we <i>bust</i>!"</p> - -<p>"What bill?"</p> - -<p>"Registration. Health certificate—or no marriage license! You've got to -roll up your sleeves and get busy."</p> - -<p>"All right," he agreed, promptly. "She's not engaged, is she?"</p> - -<p>"Who? Laura? Heavens, no! She has something else to think of than your -sex. Look here: why don't you come out to my bungalow and we'll talk -things out?" She explained that though she had moved back to Payton -Street she still used the camp when she had what she called a "night -out." "I take Flora along for propriety. Isn't that rich? I tell you -what, I've been a boon to the whole connection. I've given 'em something -to talk about!"</p> - -<p>"What's the matter with going out in my car this afternoon?" he asked. -But she put him off until the next day. She was thinking that she must -brace the house up and arrange for a rattling good supper! "We'll have a -big fire," she thought, cozily, "and we'll sit up and talk till all's -blue.... You'll stay all night?" she said. "I've a very decent little -guest-room."</p> - -<p>For once she startled him, but her frank gaze made him almost ashamed of -his instinctive sense of fitness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> He said no, he wouldn't stay all -night; he had to be on hand very early the next morning to look after a -consignment of freight. "But I'll turn up at Payton Street in the car -to-morrow afternoon, about four. Is that right?"</p> - -<p>"Just right," she said. She had decided quickly that she would send -Flora out Friday morning with provisions. "I bet he'll take notice when -I feed him!" she thought. "What kind of a salad shall I have? Not one of -those footling 'ladies' luncheon' things, all nuts and apples and -stuffed truck. Men want just lettuce or tomatoes. No fancy doings!"</p> - -<p>She was anxious to get rid of him and go home and make her plans. It -occurred to her to ask her mother what kind of cheese a man would like. -But no, that would involve her in a lot of talk about "propriety." She -nodded to him over her shoulder as he left the office, and the next -minute she heard the elevator door clang behind him. Then, with a -furtive glance about the room, as if to make sure she was alone, she -stooped and picked up that half-burnt match which had lighted his -cigarette.... For a minute she held it in her hand, then laughed, -shamefacedly, and put it in her pocket-book. Her face was vivid with -happiness. She pulled down the top of her desk, then flung it up again, -and scrawled on one of her business cards: "Closed until Monday -morning." "I'll stick that in the door," she said; "I sha'n't be able to -spare a minute for the office to-morrow." But, despite her haste, she -stood for a dreamy moment smiling into space. Then she sat down in her -revolving chair and sunk her chin on her fist.</p> - -<p><i>He couldn't stand it any longer!</i></p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p><p>The words sang themselves in her heart. "Goose! Why did he 'stand it' -as long as he did? Well, he didn't lose any time getting to the -Sturtevant Building!" She felt quite confident that he wouldn't "stand -it" longer than the next night, then, alone before the fire in her -little house, he would—<i>ask her</i>. The thought was like wine! But -instantly another thought made her quiver. Why should he "ask," when she -was so ready to give? She wished that instead of "asking" her he would -take things for granted. She wished he would just say: "When shall we be -married, Fred?" And she would say, just as nonchalantly, "Oh, any old -time!" And he would say, "To-morrow?" And she would say, "Oh, well, the -family wouldn't like it if we didn't let 'em celebrate getting me off -their hands!" She thought of Laura's anxiety about the bridesmaids' -dresses, and smiled. "I hate that kind of fuss as much as men do, but it -would be a shame to disappoint Lolly." So she would say, "Call it a -month from now." Then he would urge—that brought the other thought -again. Why should he urge?—when all she wanted was to give! Oh, how -much she wanted to <i>give</i>! Her heart seemed to rise in her throat, and -she said, aloud, "Why not? Why not?" A pang of happiness brought the -tears to her eyes. It was not only love that stirred her—the simple, -human instinct—it was the realization that love was seconded by an -intellectual conviction, and that she could show by her own act that -women and men are equals, not only in all the things for which she had -been fighting (they seemed so little now!)—opinions, rights, -privileges; but equals also in this supreme business of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> loving. Yes, -there was no reason why she should not be the one to ask. No reason why -she should not be the beggar! The generosity of it made her glad from -head to foot. She stood up, her lips parted, her breath catching in her -throat; she would give, before he could ask! It was a sacramental -instant; for with the purpose of giving—"herself, her soul and -body"—was that exalted realization that an opinion of the mind can be -merged with an impulse of the body. She was profoundly shaken and -solemn. Suddenly she put her hands over her face, and stood motionless: -there were no words, but the gesture was a prayer. When a little later -she left her office her face was white. She was happier than she had -ever been in her life.</p> - -<p>She walked home, stopping, on a sudden impulse, to buy a bunch of -violets for her mother. At her own front door she met the postman, who -gave her a card from Laura: "<i>I'm going on to Boston—to stay with the -Browns. Home next week.</i>" Under the little scrawling signature, "L. C.," -was another line: "<i>Why not write H. M. and tell him to bring home some -Filipino gauze for the bridesmaids' dresses?</i>"</p> - -<p>Frederica bit a joyous lip. "Imp! Well," she thought, with a queer -little matronly air of amusement, "she'll get her dress sooner than she -expects." Then she thrust her key into the lock and let herself into the -hall; the light in the red globe flickered in the draught of fresh air, -and Andy Payton's hat moved slightly. The shut-up stillness of the house -was full of a sickly fragrance: "Bay rum!" Fred said, resignedly. "She -has a headache, I suppose."</p> - -<p>She ran up-stairs, the violets in her hand. "Finished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> your puzzle?" she -called out at the sitting-room door. But the puzzle was still chaotic; -Mrs. Payton was standing before a mirror, tying a handkerchief around -her head.</p> - -<p>"Too bad you have a headache!" Frederica said. "Mother, I shall want -Flora to-morrow. I'm going to the camp for the night. Here are some -violets for you."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton put out a languid hand and said, "Thank you, dear."</p> - -<p>Then she sank into a pillowy chair and tried to dab some more bay rum on -her temples, but it ran down her face on to her dress, and had to be -wiped off, feebly.</p> - -<p>"I hope it won't stain my waist," she bemoaned herself. "The violets are -very nice, dear. I always used to say when I was a young lady—'Give me -violets!' As for Flora, she is simply impossible! She's been crying all -day."</p> - -<p>"What on earth is the matter with her?"</p> - -<p>"I'm sure I don't know. Some nonsense about not wanting to live. Rather -different from the way servants talked when I went to housekeeping. She -said—" Mrs. Payton paused, and with closed eyes cautiously tipped the -bottle of bay rum on the bandage across her forehead, then hurriedly -sopped her cheeks as it trickled down from under the handkerchief. "Oh, -dear, it <i>will</i> stain my dress! She said she had 'nothing to do.' I -said, 'Nothing to do? <i>I</i> can find you enough to do.' She said she was -tired of housework. I told her that was very wicked. I said, '<i>I'm</i> busy -from morning till night, and what would you think of me if I said I was -tired of doing my duty?' Miss Carter says she is simply dead in love -with one of the hack-drivers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> who won't have anything to do with her. I -can't think so; Flora has always seemed so refined. I don't believe -she'd cheapen herself that way. I wish she was more religious. Religion -is so good for servants. It makes them contented, and gives them an -interest. Not but what Flora is a good girl, only I should be so much -more comfortable if she was contented. I wish I didn't feel my girls' -moods as I do. When they are cross, I feel it in my knees. I'm too -sensitive. Freddy, dear, ask Miss Carter to bring me a hot-water bag. -Oh, wait a minute! I want to speak to you. I—"</p> - -<p>Something in the next room fell with a thud against the door; Frederica -fled. Mrs. Payton sighed and shut her eyes, pressing the fresh fragrance -of the violets against her hot face.</p> - -<p>"Why does she mind him?" she thought, with languid resentment. "If she -was only like Aunt Adelaide! I wonder if she'll remember to tell Miss -Carter to get my hot-water bag."</p> - -<p>Frederica did remember, but she did not tell Miss Carter: she never went -into that room in the ell when she could help it. She filled the -hot-water bag herself, brought it to Mrs. Payton, suggested bed instead -of the big chair, and vanished into the welcome silence of her own room.</p> - -<p>Later, in the dining-room, as she dreamed over her solitary dinner, she -roused herself to tell Flora that she was to go out to the bungalow the -next day. "You've got to get up a bully supper for me, Flora. Mr. -Maitland is coming."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p><p>There was no reply, and Frederica looked up. "What's the matter? You -got a headache, too?"</p> - -<p>"I was expecting a friend o' mine would call on me to-morrow night," -Flora said, sullenly.</p> - -<p>Frederica was genuinely concerned. "I'm awfully sorry, but Mr. Maitland -is coming to see me and I really <i>must</i> be out there. Can't you put your -friend off? Who is he?"</p> - -<p>Flora looked coy.</p> - -<p>"Ah, now, Flora," Miss Payton said, good-naturedly, "what's all this? I -must look into this!" The teasing banished the gloom for a minute or -two. "Send him a little note and tell him you'll be home Saturday -night," Fred suggested. She wasn't quite sure of kitchen etiquette on -such matters; but, after all, why shouldn't Flora do just what her young -mistress was doing?</p> - -<p>"Maybe he will come to-night," she said, encouragingly, and Flora, with -a flicker of hope, said, "Maybe he will; if he does, I guess I'll invite -him to go to a movie with me next week."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps he'll invite you," Fred said.</p> - -<p>But Flora's hopes did not rise to such a height. "If he doesn't come in -to-night, I'll send him a reg'ler written invitation to a movie," she -said, happily.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> - -<p>As things turned out, Flora might have seen her "friend" in Payton -Street Friday night, had devotion prompted him to call, for the -festivity at the camp was postponed for three days. The morning mail -brought Frederica a brief line from Howard Maitland; he had found, he -said, after he left her office, that he had to run on to Philadelphia. -Back Monday morning. If her invitation held good, he'd come out to -Lakeville for supper Monday night. The letter ended with some -scratched-out words, which looked like, "I may have something to tell -you—" The obliterated line made her glow! But the delay was -disappointing. Three whole days before she could hear that "something" -he wanted to tell her—and she wanted to hear! Well, it would give her -more time to fix things up in the cottage. With this in view, she and -Zip and Flora went out to Lakeville Sunday morning, and Fred had a -silent day to keep an eye on the dusting, and work on her suffrage -paper, and jolly Flora, whose plaintive dullness was beginning to be -rather trying.</p> - -<p>"You <i>must</i> brace up, Flora," she said; "you haven't half dusted the -legs of the table! I don't want Mr. Maitland to think we are not good -housekeepers, just because we are 'New Women,' you and I!" But Flora did -not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> brighten. She had telephoned the "reg'ler invitation to the movies" -before leaving Payton Street, but the "friend" had only said (she told -Frederica) "he'd see 'bout it. He'll write to me, and I'll git it -Monday," she said. But it was evident that she had very little hope of -an acceptance.</p> - -<p>All that pleasant, hazy Sunday Frederica followed the old, old example -of her grandmother, the cave-dweller, and decked her little shelter. She -went into the woods and brought back an armful of maple leaves and, with -Flora's melancholy assistance, fastened them against the walls and over -the doors, hiding, to some extent, the frieze of fans and the yellow -pennons of the Cause. She even took down the muslin curtains and washed -and ironed them herself, and put them up again, crisp and dainty. The -little room bloomed with her joy. When she sat down to "polish" her -article she kept jumping up every few minutes to move a bowl of flowers, -or put an extra book on the mantelpiece.</p> - -<p>"I wonder," she thought, "if he can read the titles from that morris -chair?" She had decided in what chair he was to sit. She tried the -visual possibilities of the chair herself and, by screwing up her eyes, -found she could just make out the appallingly learned names on the backs -of some of the books. "<i>That</i> will show him what I'm up to!" she said.</p> - -<p>It was the old Life Purpose—the eternal invitation! The bird preens -itself, the flower pours its perfume, the girl's cheek curves like a -shell. A man can almost always see the beckoning of that rosy curve, or -of a little curl nestling at the back of a white neck, or of soft, shy -eyes;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> for so, in all the ages, Life has invited. But it has never -beckoned with a German treatise!</p> - -<p>Frederica, giving Zip a lump of sugar and making a solitary cup of tea -for herself, did not know that she was beckoning....</p> - -<p>When, at five o'clock, a motor came chugging along the road, and Arthur -Weston opened the door and demanded tea, he, at least, felt the -invitation—which was not for him. The white curtains, the open piano, -the warmth and fragrance and pleasantness, and, most of all, Frederica, -sitting on a little stool by the fire, her face sparkling with welcome. -Everything was beckoning!</p> - -<p>Standing up, warming his hands at the fire while Fred ran out to the -kitchen to make fresh tea for him, the caller read the names of the -books lined up in a row between the lighted candles on the mantelpiece, -and whistled.</p> - -<p>"Is this your light reading?" he said, as she came back with the -cream-pitcher. "For Heaven's sake, lay in some funny papers for the -simple male mind!" Then he pulled Zip's ears, took his tea, and said he -wished he could ever get enough sugar.</p> - -<p>"I saw Maitland on Thursday," he said, reaching for another lump.</p> - -<p>"Yes, he is on deck," Fred said.</p> - -<p>Her man of business made a hopeless, laughing gesture, as if he gave up -trying to solve a puzzle. "Are they engaged, or aren't they?" he said to -himself. Her way of speaking of the cub was certainly as indifferent as -it well could be! "But that doesn't prove anything," he thought, -drearily.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p><p>He stayed a long time; he had a feeling that his call was a sort of -last chapter. "In about a week I'll get one of those confounded -engagement letters," he told himself. He settled down in the morris -chair—the chair in which Howard was to sit the next evening—and -started her talking. He did not need to make any replies. Once Frederica -"got going" on her own affairs he could watch her in lazy, tender -silence.... How soon it would be over—this watching and listening! How -soon his plaything would be transformed into a happy, self-absorbed, -quite uninteresting wife and mother! For Fred Maitland, he was cynically -aware, would cease to interest him, because she would cease to be -preposterous; she would be normal. Of course Fred Payton would always be -a darling memory; she would never leave his heart. His heart ached at -the thought of its own emptiness if he should try to turn Fred Payton -out just because Fred Maitland was another man's wife. No, he would not -even try to forget his wild, sweet, silly Freddy! She should always -remain as, back somewhere in his memory, Kate remained, dark-browed and -cruel. The Kate of to-day, whose presence in his heart would be an -impropriety, was not even an individual to him! But the old Kate was -his. He wondered if Fred would ever become as vague to him as Mrs. -Kate——.... "What is her name! Oh, yes—Bailey. When I heard she'd -married him, I didn't sleep for two nights; and now I can hardly -remember his name! 'Men have died, and worms have eaten them—' ... -Fred, almost all the houses out here are boarded up. I only saw a light -in one house."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p><p>"I was telling you of the woman's movement in Sweden," she said, -affronted.</p> - -<p>"I'd like to see a woman's movement back to town from this cottage! You -really ought not to be out here at night, just you and Flora. That one -house which is open will be closed pretty soon, I suppose?"</p> - -<p>"To-morrow," she teased him. "And Flora and I are such fragile flowers, -it's dreadful to think of our losing the protection of Mr. and Mrs. -Monks! He is a paralytic, and she weighs two hundred and twenty-five -pounds."</p> - -<p>"You'll move in town to-morrow, won't you?" he said, really disturbed.</p> - -<p>She had to admit that she expected to. "Not that I'm nervous, but Howard -Maitland is coming here to supper to-morrow night, and I'm going to make -him take us back in his car because I've got such a lot of stuff to -carry home."</p> - -<p>"Oh," he said, blankly. "He's coming out to supper?" He stared into the -fire for a while; then he got on his feet. "I must start," he said, and -stood looking down at her. "Fred," he said, suddenly—in the uncertain -firelight his face seemed to quiver—"you're a good fellow. And if your -husband, when you get him, isn't the finest thing that ever happened, -I'll punch his head!"</p> - -<p>His voice was so moved that she, sitting on her little stool, close to -the hearth, looked up at him, quickly. "Why, he's <i>fond</i> of me!" she -thought. Her own deep experience made her heart open into generous -acceptance of any human affection. She jumped up and put both<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> impulsive -hands into his. "You are the dearest friend I have!" she said; then -hesitated, laughed—and kissed him.</p> - -<p>Her lips against his cheek were softly cool, like the touch of flowers. -Nothing that she had ever said or done removed her more completely from -the possibility of passion. He was able, however, to make a -grandfatherly rejoinder to the effect that he had dandled her on his -knee when she was a brat—which was not strictly true, for he had had no -inclination to dandle the gawky fourteen-year-old Freddy Payton on knees -that were bent before the cruel Kate. He put a friendly—but -shrinking—hand on her shoulder as she went with him to the front door, -and a minute later waved good night from his car. As he drove home in a -bothering white fog from the lake, he was very unhappy. "It hurts more -than I supposed it could," he told himself. "I don't like this kind of -'amusement!' Damn it, I wish she hadn't kissed me."</p> - -<p>As for Frederica, going back into the cottage, her eyes were very kind. -"He's an old dear to bother with me; I'm awfully fond of him." Then she -forgot him. "Twenty-four hours more," she was thinking, "and Howard will -be here!" Twenty-four hours seemed a long time! She was glad when the -moment came to blow out the candles and look into the other room to say -good night; ("only twenty hours now!").</p> - -<p>Flora, at the kitchen table, was listlessly shuffling a pack of cards by -the light of a little kerosene-lamp; as Fred entered, she dropped her -head in her hands and sighed. Frederica sighed, too. "I suppose I've got -to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> cheer her up," she thought, resignedly. "What's the matter?" she -said, kindly.</p> - -<p>"Nothin'."</p> - -<p>"Come in the other room and I'll play for you."</p> - -<p>Flora shook a dreary head. Fred, with a shrug of impatience, sat down at -the other end of the table. The fire in the stove was out and the -kitchen was cold and damp; except for the lisping wash of the lake and -the faint fall of Flora's cards, everything was very still. Fred watched -the cards for a moment without speaking, then abruptly brushed them all -aside and clapped her warm young hand on Flora's thin wrist. The -movement made the lamp flicker, and on the opposite wall two shadowy -heads nodded at each other.</p> - -<p>"Now, Flora," she said, "we'll have this out! What <i>is</i> the matter?"</p> - -<p>"I tell you, Miss Freddy, there ain't nothin' the matter."</p> - -<p>"There is! You're awfully depressed."</p> - -<p>"I'm used to that."</p> - -<p>"But why? Come now, you've got to tell me!"</p> - -<p>Flora dropped her head on her arms and began to cry.</p> - -<p>"Flora! Flora! What shall I do with you? You are so silly!"</p> - -<p>The woman sat up and wiped her eyes. The little hysterical outburst -evidently relieved her; she smiled, though her lips still trembled. "I -was tellin' my fortune to see what kind of a letter I'd git to-morrow -mornin' from my friend about goin' to the movies. I like 'em, but 'pears -he ain't stuck on 'em. An'—an', I'm bettin' he'll say he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> won't go. The -cards make out I ain't goin' to have no luck."</p> - -<p>"Nonsense! You've got too much sense to believe in cards."</p> - -<p>"Miss Freddy, Mr. Maitland'll think the house real pretty the way you -fixed up them leaves. Some of 'em is as handsome as if they was -hand-painted!"</p> - -<p>Fred preserved a grave face, and said yes, the leaves were lovely.</p> - -<p>"An' he's comin' out to-morrow night?" Flora said, nodding her head. -"Well, I guess <i>you're</i> happy." Her opaque black eyes gleamed with -unshed tears. Frederica, rising, put an impulsive arm around her; Flora -suddenly sobbed on her shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Is it because your beau has been unkind?" Fred said. She used Flora's -own vernacular.</p> - -<p>"I 'ain't never had a real beau. Oh, well, I don't care! I'm glad you -got a beau, anyhow."</p> - -<p>"I don't know that I have," Fred said, smiling. "But you'll get one some -day." Under her friendly words was a good-natured contempt—Flora was so -anxious for a "beau"!</p> - -<p>"An' your gentleman'll come out here to-morrow night," Flora -repeated,—it was as if she turned the knife in her own wound; "an' you -and him'll set in the living-room. And you'll talk. And he'll talk. An' -he'll ... kiss you."</p> - -<p>"Oh," Fred said, laughing, "Mr. Maitland and I are not interested in -<i>that</i> kind of thing! We are trying to give women the vote, and to make -the world better—that's what we are going to talk about. And, Flora, -remember,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> you've got to give us an awfully good supper! Come, now! -you're tired. You really must go to bed."</p> - -<p>She laid a gently compelling hand on the frail shoulder, and Flora, -sighing miserably, took the lamp from its bracket and followed Miss -Freddy up-stairs to the cubby-hole under the roof where she slept.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> - -<p>The next day it rained and the little house was dark and damp. Across -the sodden beach-grass Fred and Flora could see the fat woman in the -next bungalow moving her trunks and her paralyzed husband back to town; -when they had gone, the owner of the bungalow came to give a look around -and see how much damage his tenants had done. Then he closed the -shutters and boarded up the front door. By noon the sound of his -hammering ceased, and the shore, with its huddle of cottages, was -entirely deserted. The only human sign was the wisp of smoke from Fred's -chimney. All the morning it rained heavily. At ten o'clock Flora put on -her things and walked nearly a mile to the post-office. She came back -soaking-wet, and empty-handed.</p> - -<p>"Didn't he write?" Fred asked, cheerfully.</p> - -<p>Flora shook a forlorn head. But when she had had a cup of tea there was -a rally of hope. "Them postmen! They're always losin' letters. I -shouldn't wonder if my friend's letter was stickin' in a mail-box, -somewheres."</p> - -<p>"Very likely!" Fred said. She really didn't know what she said; her -joyous preoccupation was only aware of Time—"six hours more, and he'll -be here!" At noon the rain ceased and the fog crept in. Some yellow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> -leaves blew up on the porch; a squirrel ran down the chestnut-tree at -the corner of the cottage, lifted an alert tail, looked about, then ran -up again. After that everything was still.</p> - -<p>The lake was smothered in a woolly whiteness that muffled even the -lapping of the waves. It muffled one's mind, Frederica thought. She -wished she had something to do—housework or anything! "I haven't the -brains to work on my article; I'm only intelligent enough to be -domestic!" But there was nothing domestic to be done; everything was -swept and garnished. She tried to read; she tried to write; said "darn -it!" to both book and pen, then got up to walk about and stare out of -the window into the wetness. At last, in desperation, she put on her -things, called Zip, and went out into the mist to tramp for an hour -under the dripping branches. When they came back, Zip horribly muddy, -Fred was as fresh as a rain-wet rose, and full of the joy of living. -"Only four hours now!"</p> - -<p>In the kitchen she wiped Zippy's reluctant paws, and told Flora, who was -sitting motionless, her hands idle in her lap, to hang her sou'wester up -to dry. "Now, Flora, come to life!" she said. "If you come into the -living-room I'll play for you."</p> - -<p>Flora shook her head. "There ain't no use listenin' to music. There -ain't no use in anything. You get up in the morning and button your -boots. Well, you gotta do it the next day," Flora said, with staring -eyes, "an' the next. An' the next. What's the use? There's no use." But -after serving her young lady with a somewhat sketchy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> luncheon, she did -go into the other room, and after helping to start the dying fire, -crouched on the floor, her head against the piano, and listened to -Fred's friendly drumming.</p> - -<p>"Trouble with you," said Frederica, looking down at the crouching -figure, "is that you've nothing to do that you care awfully about -doing."</p> - -<p>Flora was silent, and by and by Fred forgot her, for, velvet-footed, -through the fog, the hour when Howard should arrive came nearer, and her -own life grew so vivid that the moping brown woman ceased to exist for -her—except, indeed, for momentary pangs of fear that Flora would make -some blunder—roast the duck a minute too long, or forget to put pieces -of orange on the sizzling breast just before serving it!</p> - -<p class="space-above">He had said he would come at five. But it was nearly six before she -heard the car panting in the road. She opened the door, and, holding a -candle above her head, told him he needn't expect anything so swell as a -garage. "Just run her up under that big chestnut!" Then she put the -candle down on the porch, and went out to help him lift the top, for the -moisture was dripping like rain from the branches.</p> - -<p>"But the fog is clearing," she said, with satisfaction. She did not add -that she had been anxious at the idea of his poking back on the wood -road in the thick mist. Such concern was an absolutely new sensation to -Frederica. She had never in all her life felt anxious about anybody!</p> - -<p>The top up, they went into the fire-lit room, warm and fragrant and -comfortable, with the candles burning on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> mantelpiece on either side -of the learned books. The supper was a great success. Flora had "come to -life," and the duck was perfect; indeed, she even brightened, for an -instant, under Mr. Maitland's appreciation: "Flora, I take off my hat to -that duck. You are a bully cook!"</p> - -<p>"She is!" Fred said, heartily. But Flora's face gloomed again.</p> - -<p>"Bully!" Howard repeated. His vocabulary was never very large, and -hunger made it smaller than usual. He was, however, able to tell Fred -that he had missed Laura in Philadelphia.</p> - -<p>"Strikes me she's gadding about a good deal; she's gone to Boston. -What's the clue?"</p> - -<p>"Just a good time. Lolly is rather young still, you know," Fred excused -her. Howard made no comment, and she had an uncomfortable feeling that -he did not appreciate Laura. "I pretty nearly went with her, myself!" -she declared, boldly. She wasn't going to have even Howard think Laura -was frivolous! "She's the sweetest thing going," she said.</p> - -<p>"You bet she is," Howard agreed, and began to talk about shells.</p> - -<p>When they had finished the last scrap of dessert, the young man put what -was left of his beer on the mantelpiece, and, his pipe drawing well, -stood up with his back to the fire, and told her about the pearl he had -found.</p> - -<p>"I want to show it to you," he said; and, digging it up out of his -pocket, dropped it into her extended hand. "I'm going to have it set in -a—a ring," he explained, as it lay, round and shimmering, in Fred's -palm. "Of course,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> I could buy a bigger one, and more perfect. But -there's a kind of association in a pearl you pick up yourself—don't you -think?"</p> - -<p>"Of course there is!"</p> - -<p>"Put it there, on your finger, and let's see how it looks," he said, his -head on one side, his eyes anxious. She balanced it as well as she could -on the back of her hand, then returned it to him hurriedly. "Pretty -good?" he said.</p> - -<p>"Fine!" she assured him. Then, resolutely, changed the subject; there -must be no talk about rings—<i>yet</i>!</p> - -<p>Howard, a little disappointed at her indifference, put the pearl, in its -wisp of tissue-paper, into his pocket, and listened to the outpouring of -her plans for the winter work of the league. In the midst of it, he -kicked the logs together in the fireplace, and, sitting down, smoked -comfortably. Once he said that one of her arguments was bully, and once -he called her attention to the way the sparks marched and countermarched -in the soot on the chimney back; "I used to call 'em 'soldiers' when I -was a kid."</p> - -<p>"I meant to read you my paper," Fred was saying, "but I guess it will -keep. Let's talk. Howard, Laura and I are going to get all the girls we -know to take a stand—this is a pretty serious thing!—against playing -around with men we know are dissipated. The idea grew out of this bill -we're trying to get before the Legislature."</p> - -<p>"Good work!" he said, lazily, and leaned forward to knock the ashes out -of his pipe. Zip yawned and curled up on the skirt of Freddy's dress. It -was a warm, domestic scene, full of peaceful certainties.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p><p>"You see," she said, "women are facing facts, nowadays. They believe in -freedom, but they believe most of all in Truth. There'll be no more -hiding behind a lot of conventions! That is what has held us back. We -have as much right to say what we—feel, as men. Don't you think so?" -Her voice was a little breathless.</p> - -<p>Howard, looking dreamily at the "soldiers," said, absently, "You bet you -have!"</p> - -<p>"I want to tell you just what we're up to about turning down the rotten -fellows," Fred said. "I want to talk it out with you and get your -advice. But not now, because—because there are other things I want to -say. But sometime."</p> - -<p>"Any time! I've just been laying for a jaw with you, Fred. I don't know -any other woman I can talk to just as I can to a man!"</p> - -<p>At that, she couldn't help a little proud movement of her head, and to -hide her pride she stooped down and stroked Zippy; as she did so the -firelight fell on her face, smiling, and quivering a little. Her good -gray eyes brimmed with joy. "Yes, we are pretty good friends," she said.</p> - -<p>"You see," he said, "you <i>understand</i>! Why, those letters of yours—I -can't tell you what they meant to me!" He paused and laughed: "That -reminds me. I told Leighton—you know the man I wrote to you about?"</p> - -<p>"The anti man?"</p> - -<p>"Yes; Tommy Leighton—"</p> - -<p>"I'll send him a bunch of literature—if he has any kind of mind?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, well; so-so. He's an anti, so what can you expect? I told him that -you had the finest mind of any woman I had ever met. I told him that -mighty few men could talk back to you—" He paused to fumble about in -his pocket for his tobacco-pouch. "Laura gave me that," he interpolated; -"Leighton said—"</p> - -<p>She leaned forward and laid her hand on his arm; the suddenness of her -grip made him drop the little pouch, and as he stooped to pick it up, -she said:</p> - -<p>"I've missed you—awfully."</p> - -<p>He did not see that she was trembling. He put the pouch in his pocket -and retorted, gaily:</p> - -<p>"I bet you haven't missed me as much as I've missed you!"</p> - -<p>"I've missed you," she said, in a whisper, "<i>more</i>!"</p> - -<p>Howard Maitland stopped midway in a breath. But instantly the thought -that leaped into his mind vanished in shame. He actually blushed with -consternation at his own caddishness. He tried to say, again, something -about her letters—but she was not listening; she was saying, calmly:</p> - -<p>"You see—I love you."</p> - -<p>He was dumb. His brain whirled. He said to himself that he hadn't -understood her—of course he hadn't understood her! What had she said? -Good Lord! what <i>had</i> she said? Of course she didn't mean—what you -might think! She only meant—friendship. If he let her know what, for -just one gasping moment he had thought she meant, somebody ought to kick -him! But the shock of her words brought him to his feet. She rose, too, -and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> stood smiling at him. "Of course," he began, "we are—you are—I -mean, I don't know what I would have done without your let—"</p> - -<p>"I love you," she said. She held out both her hands—"will you marry me, -Howard?"</p> - -<p>He had it, then, between the eyes. His boyish stumbling ceased. He -caught her hands in his.</p> - -<p>"Fred," he began—a door banged in the kitchen and they both started, -"Fred," he said, again—his throat was dry, and he stopped to swallow. -Instinctively she was drawing away from him; the smiling offer was still -in her eyes, but a frightened look lay behind it. He did not try to hold -the withdrawing hands.</p> - -<p>"Fred, I care for you so much—" He was white with pain. Frederica was -silent. "I care for you so terribly, I—I have to be—straight. I never -thought—" She made a gesture, and he stopped.</p> - -<p>"It's all right. I understand. You needn't go on."</p> - -<p>"Fred! Look here—I care for you more than I can tell you. You are—you -are simply stunning; but—"</p> - -<p>She laughed: "Cut it out, Howard; cut it out! I understand."</p> - -<p>"You don't!" he said, greatly agitated; "you can't understand how—how I -appreciate—I shall never forget—"</p> - -<p>She motioned him back to his chair, and dropped into her own. "You -needn't worry about me. I've made a mistake, that's all. Many a man has -done the same thing and lived through it. I assure you I sha'n't pine!"</p> - -<p>She was very pale, but smiling finely. He sat down.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> His confusion was -agonizing. He was trying to think how he could tell her what she meant -to him; how he respected, admired—yes, <i>loved</i> her! Only not—not just -in the way she meant. He tried to say this, then stopped, realizing, -dazed as he was, that his explanations only made things worse.</p> - -<p>"I am not worthy of the friendship of a woman as noble as you are!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, nonsense! Let's talk of important things."</p> - -<p>"No, but listen," he entreated, with emotion. "You won't turn me down? -You're the best friend I have—we won't stop being friends?"</p> - -<p>"You'll 'be a brother to me'?" she quoted; it was her only bitter word; -and she covered it with a laugh. "'Course we are pals, always! Howard, I -want to tell you what I accomplished here this summer. And oh, by the -way, did you give 'Aunty Leighton' the pamphlet on the New Zealand -situation?" She pulled Zip up on her lap, and teased him, kissing him -between his eyes, and squeezing his little nose in her hand.</p> - -<p>Howard said, as casually as his breath permitted, that Tommy Leighton -was a fine chap—"but no mind, you know. One of those people you can't -argue with on any really serious subject like suffrage. Opinions all run -into molds. Can't bend 'em." Now that he had got started talking, he -couldn't stop; he talked faster and faster; he told her everything he -had ever heard or surmised about Mr. Leighton; "his ideas belong to the -dark ages—"</p> - -<p>"Believes in sex slavery, I suppose?" Fred interposed.</p> - -<p>"Exactly! I—I guess I'd better be getting along," he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> said, with a sort -of gasp. Her instant acquiescence, in springing to her feet, was at once -a relief and a stab.</p> - -<p>"Would you mind," she said, easily, "putting a basket into your tonneau -and leaving it at our house? Flora and I will have such a lot of things -to carry in town to-morrow."</p> - -<p>As she spoke, she was listening with satisfaction to her own -voice—calm, matter-of-fact, friendly.</p> - -<p>He said he would be delighted to take the basket—"or anything else! -Load me up, and I'll deliver the goods in Payton Street to-night!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no; it's too late," she said, laughing; "but if you'll take it -around in the morning—"</p> - -<p>"Of course I will; delighted!"</p> - -<p>"I'll tell Flora to take it out to the car," she said; and went into the -kitchen: "Flo—" she began, and stopped. The kitchen was empty. "Flora!" -she called, looking at the unwashed dishes in the sink, and at Flora's -untasted supper set out on the kitchen table in the midst of a clutter -of cards. She said a single distracted word under her breath; went to -the foot of the stairs and called up to the little cell under the -eaves.... No answer. She ran up and looked into each room.... No Flora.</p> - -<p>"She seems to have vanished," she said, coming into the living-room with -a puzzled look. "She isn't in the house. Do you suppose she can be -wandering about in the woods at this time of the night?" In her own -mind, frantic at Howard's delayed departure, she was saying to herself: -"I'll die if I don't get rid of him! I could <i>kill</i> Flora!" She sat down -again by the fire, and said that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> she was bothered about Zippy's eyes; -that made a momentary diversion. Howard examined the little dog's eyes -and said they were all right; then made desultory remarks about dogs in -China. He was trying, wildly, to find something—<i>anything!</i>—to say. -Both were listening intently for Flora's step. "I'll see if I can find -her now," Frederica said.</p> - -<p>He followed her into the empty kitchen. "Bird flown?" he said. He, too, -was pleased to find he could speak so casually. Frederica opened the -back door and strained her eyes into the mist.</p> - -<p>"It's awfully funny," she said; "why should she go out into the fog? -<i>Flora!</i>" she called loudly—and they held their breaths for an -answering voice. But there was only the muffled lapping of the waves and -an occasional drop falling from the big tree. They went back to the -living-room, and looked at each other, blankly.</p> - -<p>"Can she have started to walk into town?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Thirty miles? Howard, I am sort of worried about her! Do you remember? -the door slammed, and—" she stopped short, remembering just when she -had heard that slamming door. "Do you think she can have been ill, and -gone out to one of the other houses for help? No," she corrected -herself. "She knows every house in Lakeville is closed!"</p> - -<p>Again she ran up-stairs, calling and looking; then they both went out on -the back porch, and called.</p> - -<p>Again the lake answered them, lapping—lapping.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> - -<p>"You can't stay here by yourself," he said.</p> - -<p>"I can't go back to town and leave Flora here by herself. We've got to -find her!"</p> - -<p>He nodded; they were both of them entirely at ease. That tense -consciousness of a few minutes before had disappeared.</p> - -<p>"I'm worried," Fred said, again; "she was awfully low-spirited -because—because somebody hadn't written to her."</p> - -<p>"Oh, she's all right. She'll be back in a few minutes."</p> - -<p>"But where has she gone?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps she walked into Laketon."</p> - -<p>"What for? Besides, it's nearly five miles!" They were standing in the -kitchen doorway; Zip pushed past them and went out into the mist; -smelled about, stretching first his front legs, then his hind legs. The -motor loomed like a black monster under the tree. Zip gave a bored look -at the lingering guest.</p> - -<p>"<i>Flor-a-a!</i>"</p> - -<p>No answer; just the lake, sighing and rippling in the sedge.</p> - -<p>"Could she have gone down to the water?" Howard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> said; "have you got -such a thing as a lantern? I'll go out and look."</p> - -<p>"No; but light that lamp on the center-table—a candle might blow out."</p> - -<p>He went into the other room, and she heard him scratch a match and -fumble with the lamp-chimney. In that minute, alone, listening all the -while for Flora's returning step, her mind leaped back to that moment in -front of the fire. His look—astounded, incredulous, shocked—was burned -into her memory; his distressed words rung in her ears. She was not -conscious of any pain because he did not love her. She was simply -stunned by the jolt of suddenly and unexpectedly stepping down into the -old, irrational modesties....</p> - -<p>Her face began to scorch. She went out on the porch and called again, -mechanically; some water dripping from the eaves on her bare head ran -down one blazing cheek; the coolness gave her an acute sense of relief -that struggled through the medley of tearing emotions; she was saying to -herself: "Where can she be? She hasn't washed the dishes! (<i>He refused -me.</i>)"</p> - -<p>Howard, holding the lamp over his head, came up behind her and went down -the steps into the mist. Fred followed him, Zip lumbering along at her -heels.</p> - -<p>"She must have left the house this way; we know that," she said.</p> - -<p>"Come down to the beach," he said.</p> - -<p>"Yes; sometimes she used to sit on that big rock," Frederica remembered.</p> - -<p>He walked ahead of her; the light, shining through the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> solferino -lamp-shade, made a rosy nimbus about his bare head, but scarcely -penetrated the fog. They went thus, all three, single file, along the -path to the rickety wooden pier; at the end of it, they stood staring -out into the mist. Twice he called, loudly, "<i>Flora!</i>"...</p> - -<p>"Not a sound!" he said. "Is there any possible place in the house where -she could have hidden herself? I mean, gone to sleep, or anything?"</p> - -<p>"Not a place! I've looked everywhere. (<i>He refused me.</i>)"</p> - -<p>They turned silently to go back. Just as they reached the path again -Howard stopped—so abruptly that the lamp sent a jarring gleam into the -white darkness.</p> - -<p>"<i>Fred—?</i>"</p> - -<p>She looked where he was looking, and caught her breath.</p> - -<p>"No!" she said; "oh, no—no! It can't be!"</p> - -<p>"Hold the lamp. I'll go and see—"</p> - -<p>He climbed down the little bluff and waded into the sedge. The swaying -mass that had looked like a stone until a larger wave stirred it, came -in nearer the shore, caught on the shoaling beach, rolled, and was -still. Frederica saw him bend over it, then try, frantically, to lift it -in his arms. She put the lamp on the wharf. ("Don't touch it, Zip!"), -slid, catching at tufts of grass, and bending branches—down the -crumbling bank, plunged into the water up to her knees, and together, -half pulling, half carrying that sodden bundle, they stumbled over the -oozy bottom and through the sedges. The lifting it up the bluff was -terrible; the dripping figure, sagging and bending, was so heavy!</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p><p>"We must get her into the house," Frederica panted. And, somehow or -other, they did it, Howard taking the shoulders, and Fred the feet. They -were gasping with the strain of it when they laid her on the floor of -the living-room.</p> - -<p>"Is she dead?" he said.</p> - -<p>Frederica thrust her hand into the bosom of Flora's dress—and held her -breath.</p> - -<p>"I can't tell; we mustn't stop to find out! You know what to do? Pull -her arms up, this way!"</p> - -<p>They stood over her, Howard following Fred's short, sharp directions, -and, even in the horror of the moment, conscious of a wondering -admiration at her efficiency. But no quiver of life came into the still -face.</p> - -<p>"We ought to get a doctor!" Fred said, at last, panting.</p> - -<p>"I'll go instantly!"</p> - -<p>"No, the quickest way will be to take her to a doctor, not bring a -doctor to her!"</p> - -<p>"But if she is dead we ought not to move her! That's the law."</p> - -<p>"Law? I don't care anything about the law! Life is what I'm thinking of! -We don't know whether she's dead or not. Crank your car! I'll get some -blankets—"</p> - -<p>He hurried out, and she rushed up-stairs for blankets. She was folding -them about Flora when he came in, the car chugging loudly at the door. -Again, lifting and straining, they carried her out, and got her into the -tonneau. Then Frederica saw the lamp down on the wharf, burning steadily -in the mist.</p> - -<p>"Put it out! Put it out! Hurry!" she commanded;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> and while he ran to do -it she darted back to blow out the candles in the living-room and snap -the lock of the front door—"never mind about taking the lamp into the -house. Leave it on the porch!" she said. Then she got in the car and, -sitting down, put an arm about the crumpling, sodden form. Zip, fearful -of being left, jumped on the front seat, and glanced wonderingly back at -his mistress.</p> - -<p>"Fred," Howard said, agitatedly, "I think she's—dead."</p> - -<p>"So do I; but <i>hurry</i>! Don't lose a minute!" Then, through the noise of -the clutch, she screamed at him: "Doctor Emma Holt! In Laketon!" And the -car jerked forward.</p> - -<p>"But that's a woman doctor," he called, over his shoulder.</p> - -<p>Just for a moment the habit of revolt asserted itself: "<i>Why not?</i>" -Then, "Hurry! Hurry!"</p> - -<p>Dr. Emma Holt was five miles away. "I felt," Howard Maitland used to -say, afterward, "as if she were fifty miles away!"</p> - -<p>The fog was so thick it was impossible to speed with safety, so they -sped without it, and tore bumping along through the white smother. Twice -he looked around, and saw Fred sitting there, rigid, with that face, -open-mouthed, open-eyed, gray under its brown skin, wabbling, and -dripping on her shoulder.</p> - -<p>"She is magnificent!" he thought. "<i>I</i> couldn't do it."</p> - -<p>The second time he looked, some reflection from the lamps, gleaming in -the fog, flickered on that set face, and it seemed as if the eyes -closed, then opened again. The horror of it made his hand jerk on the -wheel, and there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> was a skid out of the ruts that frightened him into -carefulness.</p> - -<p>When he sprang out at the house of the "woman doctor," he dared not -glance back into the tonneau. Hammering on the panels of the door, and -keeping his thumb on the bell, he called up to an opening window on the -second floor:</p> - -<p>"Doctor! Hurry! A woman has got drowned! Hurry!"</p> - -<p>"Where is she?" came a laconic voice from the window.</p> - -<p>"Here! In my car! Hurry!"</p> - -<p>The window slammed down; a minute later the electric lights were snapped -on in the sleeping house, and hurrying feet came along the hall.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> - -<p>"Of course," Dr. Holt said, when it was plain that nothing more could be -done, "you ought to have left her where she was."</p> - -<p>"But we didn't know whether she was alive—" they excused themselves.</p> - -<p>"Was there anything the matter with her?" the doctor said; she was -beginning to think of the certificate she must make out. "Was she -low-spirited?"</p> - -<p>"She was dreadfully disappointed because she didn't get a letter she was -expecting."</p> - -<p>"Love-letter?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," Frederica said.</p> - -<p>She and Howard had left the office, where the dead woman lay on the -doctor's lounge, and were standing in the front hall, side by side, like -two children who were being scolded. From above the hat-rack, a mounted -stag's head watched them with faintly gleaming eyes. Dr. Holt, a woman -with a strong, bad-tempered face, was plainly out of patience with them -both.</p> - -<p>"I've got to get the coroner," she said, frowning; "and it's nearly -twelve o'clock." Then she asked a question that was like a little shock -of electricity to the two who, in this last terrifying hour, had -entirely forgotten themselves. "Did she have any love-affair?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p><p>"Yes," Frederica said, in a low voice. ("<i>He refused me.</i>")</p> - -<p>"Tell me, please," Dr. Holt persisted.</p> - -<p>"She was—in love."</p> - -<p>"I suppose she was all right? I mean, respectable?"</p> - -<p>"Flora?" Fred said, with a recoil of anger, "of course she was -respectable."</p> - -<p>"That's what I thought. Man desert her? You spoke of a letter—perhaps -she was hoping to hear from him?"</p> - -<p>"No, he didn't exactly desert her. I mean, she thought somebody was in -love with her, several times. But none of the men seemed—" Frederica's -hands clutched together—"to want her. So she was unhappy."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said the doctor. "Yes. I understand. Quite frequent in women of -her age. She would have been all right if she hadn't been—respectable; -or even if she'd got religion, good and hard. Religion," said Dr. Holt, -writing rapidly in a memorandum-book, "is a safety-valve for the -unmarried woman in the forties, whose work doesn't interest her."</p> - -<p>"Flora was as good as anybody could be!" Fred said, hotly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I didn't mean any reflection on her character," said the doctor, -kindly, "I merely meant that any woman who hasn't either work, or -religion, or marriage, generally gets out of kilter, mentally. Of -course," she meditated, tapping her chin with her fountain-pen, "you two -must go to the coroner's with me."</p> - -<p>In the next hour and a half, of driving about to find the coroner, then -the undertaker, then arranging what was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> to be done with the body, the -"two" had no time for the self-consciousness that the doctor's words had -rekindled—except for just one moment: they had come back to Dr. Holt's -house, and again were standing in the entry, below the deer's head. In -the office, the coroner was questioning Dr. Holt. The office door was -ajar.</p> - -<p>"This man, Maitland; do you know anything about him? Is he all right? Of -course, you never can tell—"</p> - -<p>At that, they couldn't help looking at each other, with a flash of what -might have been, under other conditions, amusement.</p> - -<p>"Why, he's Howard Maitland!" they heard Dr. Holt say; "you know? The -Maitland Iron Works!"</p> - -<p>"Oh!" the coroner apologized, "I didn't get on to that! 'Course he's all -right."</p> - -<p>Then Dr. Holt: "It appears the poor woman tried to get married, but she -couldn't find a husband. So she killed herself."</p> - -<p>This time the two in the hall did not look at each other. Fred stared up -at the stag's glistening eyes. Howard buckled and unbuckled his -driving-gauntlets. For the rest of her life, Frederica never saw a -mounted deer's head without a stab of remembrance.</p> - -<p>It was nearly four o'clock in the morning when everything was attended -to and Howard turned his car homeward. "Do sit in front with me, Fred," -he said; "you <i>can't</i> sit back there in the tonneau."</p> - -<p>"All right," she said, absently, and, getting in, pulled Zippy on to her -lap. As she sat down, she suddenly realized that Howard's request -implied that he felt an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>embarrassment for her which she was not feeling -for herself. She began to feel it soon enough! Embarrassment flowed in -upon them both. Howard talked about Flora—then fell silent: ("She -'tried to get married'!") Then Fred talked about her—and fell silent. -("He needn't worry; <i>I</i> won't drown myself!")</p> - -<p>The ride into town was forever! The bleary October dawn had whitened in -the mist like a dead face, before they drew up at 15 Payton Street, and -for the last ten miles they did not exchange a word. Fred was thinking, -dazedly, of Flora; but every now and then would come the stab: "<i>He -refused me.</i>"</p> - -<p>Howard was thinking only of Fred. "Stunning!" he was saying to himself. -"She's not a girl! She's a man—no, I don't know any man who would have -done what she did. <i>I</i> couldn't have, anyway. I take off my hat to -courage like that!"</p> - -<p class="space-above">Not a girl? Fred, not a girl?...</p> - -<p>When at last that dreadful night was over, and he had left the terrified -Payton household, Frederica—the wonderful, the superwoman (superman, -even, compared with Howard himself!), Frederica had, in a flash, been -something less than superwoman; she had been pitifully, stupidly, -incredibly feminine.</p> - -<p>It was six o'clock in the morning when he closed Mrs. Payton's front -door behind him and went out to get in his car—giving a shuddering -glance at that pool of water on the floor of the tonneau. Just as he was -throwing in his clutch he heard the door open again, and Fred called<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> to -him. He went back, quickly; she was standing on the top step, haggard, -ugly, dripping wet; a lock of hair had blown across her cheek, which was -twitching painfully. She put out her hand to him, in a blind sort of -gesture, but she did not look at him.</p> - -<p>"I just wanted—to say," she said, and paused, for the jangle of the -mules' bells and the clatter of a passing car drowned her voice;—"I -wanted to—to say," she began again, with a gasp, "don't—" she stopped, -with a sobbing laugh; "don't—tell Laura."</p> - -<p>Don't tell!</p> - -<p>Oh, she was a girl all right!—so Howard's thoughts ran as he drove home -in the mist that had thickened into rain; Fred was a girl—a trembling, -ignorant, frightened feminine creature! Suppose she did support a dead -woman in her arms during that dreadful ride in the fog; suppose she did -stand by, promptly obedient to the doctor's orders in that frantic time -of endeavor in the office; suppose she had decided, quietly and wisely, -exactly what was to be done, when it was plain that Flora's poor, -melancholy little life had flown; suppose the coroner did say that he -had never seen such nerve; suppose all those things—yet she had said -those two pitiful words: "<i>Don't tell.</i>" Yes, Fred Payton was a "girl"!</p> - -<p>"You can talk all you want to about the 'new woman,'" Howard said, "I -guess human nature doesn't change much...."</p> - -<p class="space-above">It changes so little, that at that revealing instant on the Paytons' -front steps, with the light of the Egyptian<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> maid's globe streaming out -into the rain, he had wanted to put his arms around Freddy and kiss her! -Who knows but what, if there had not been all those weeks of rocking -about on the mud flats, listening to the eternal dry rustle of the -blowing palms, dredging for shells, and bothering about Jack McKnight, -he might not, then and there, in spite of the wonderfulness of her, and -because of the weakness of her, have fallen in love with old Freddy? As -it was, when she said that piteous, feminine thing, the tears had stung -in his eyes; he wrung her hand, stammering out: "<i>Never!</i> Why, I—you—" -But the door closed in his face, and he went back to climb into his -motor and go off to his own house.</p> - -<p>That was at six o'clock; it was nine before Mr. and Mrs. -Childs—summoned, to Billy-boy's great annoyance, while he was -shaving—reached No. 15. They found Mrs. Holmes there ahead of them, and -met Mr. Weston on the door-step.</p> - -<p>In the parlor, watched by Andy Payton's sightless eyes, the court sat -upon Freddy—for, of course, the whole distressing affair was her -fault—she had dragged poor, crazy Flora out to that shocking camp! "I -said last spring it was perfec' nonsense," Mr. Childs vociferated—"a -girl, renting a bungalow! Why did you allow it, Ellen?"</p> - -<p>"My dear William! I was perfectly helpless. Girls do anything nowadays. -When I was a young lady—"</p> - -<p>"<i>My</i> girl doesn't do 'anything,'" Laura's father said; "as for Freddy, -the newspapers will ring with it! Pleasant for me. My niece, alone with -that Maitland fellow! I've always distrusted him. Going off to dig -shells—a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> man with his income! That showed there's something queer -about him. And Fred alone with him in that bungalow mixed up with a -murder!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Holmes screamed.</p> - -<p>"Well, suicide. Same thing. It will all come out," said Billy-boy, -standing up with his back to the fire and puffing; "Bessie is really -sick at the scandal."</p> - -<p>"Oh, now, Father, I—"</p> - -<p>"He's got to marry her," said Mrs. Holmes.</p> - -<p>"She helped Mr. Maitland carry Flora out of the water," Mrs. Payton was -explaining; "he told me about it. He said she was very brave, but I know -she got her feet wet; and I always tell her there's no surer way to take -cold than to get your feet wet. And poor Flora! She hasn't any -relations, as far as I can find out; so whom can I notify? When I went -to housekeeping, servants always came from somewhere, and if they got -sick you knew where to send them. I don't want to be unkind, but, -really, it was very inconsiderate in Flora. I suppose she never thought -how hard it would be for Freddy—"</p> - -<p>"Where is Fred, at this moment?" Mr. Weston interrupted.</p> - -<p>"Well, she means to be kind, I'm sure," Mrs. Payton said, "but I do wish -she wasn't so extreme! She has actually gone to the undertaking -place—you know they sent Flora in this morning to Colby's—with some -roses. American Beauties, and you know how much they cost at this -season! She wanted to put them on the coffin herself, and—"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, <i>do</i> stop talking about such unpleasant things!" Mrs. Holmes said.</p> - -<p>"Well, I merely meant that it is unnecessary. As I say, Flora has no -relatives, so no one will ever know of the attention. It's just another -wild thing for Freddy to do."</p> - -<p>"Possibly Flora will know it," Mr. Weston said; "at least, wouldn't the -Reverend Tait say so?"</p> - -<p>"Oh," Mrs. Holmes said, frowning, "we are not speaking of religion. -Flora was just a servant." Even Mr. Childs winced at that, and for once -Arthur Weston's face was candid.</p> - -<p>"I suppose <i>that</i> will get into the newspapers, too," said Mrs. -Holmes—"'A young society girl puts roses' ... and all the rest of the -horrid vulgarity of it."</p> - -<p>"I don't think human kindness is ever vulgar," Mr. Weston said, "and I -am sure there will be no improper publicity. Maitland and I have been to -all the newspaper offices."</p> - -<p>"Alone, at midnight, in an auto!" Mrs. Holmes lamented.</p> - -<p>"Death is an impeccable chaperon," Weston said. ("<i>That</i> will shut her -up!" he thought, and it did, for a while.)</p> - -<p>"To think of such a thing happening to one of my servants," Mrs. Payton -bewailed herself; "and I was always so considerate of them!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Holmes said there was too much consideration for servants, anyhow. -"Let them work! There isn't one of them that will dust the legs of a -piano unless you stand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> over her! Of course, I'm sorry for Flora; I only -wish I wasn't so sensitive! But she did starch her table linen too much, -Ellen; you can't deny that."</p> - -<p>"Who is going to pay the funeral expenses?" Mr. Childs said. "Does the -city do that, Weston, or is it up to Ellen?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Mrs. Payton has no responsibilities about Death—only Life," said -Arthur Weston, grimly.</p> - -<p>"Of course I will attend to all that!" Flora's employer said; "anyhow, -her wages for the last month are not due until next week. But, of -course, I shall do everything that is proper."</p> - -<p>"Well," William Childs said, "I must be moving along. I was going to -work out a new Baconian cipher this morning, but, of course, this -wretched business has knocked my mind into a cocked hat! Come, Bessie. -Bessie's perfectly sick over the whole thing. She has her Bridge Club -this afternoon, and this awful affair has completely upset her. Good-by, -Nelly; let me know if there is anything I can do," and he hustled Mrs. -Childs—who kept insisting, mildly, that she was so sorry for poor, dear -Freddy—out of the room. At the door, he paused to call back: "This new -cipher doesn't leave the Shakespearians a leg to stand on!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Holmes and Mr. Weston lingered, Mrs. Holmes declaring that William -Childs ought to learn to speak distinctly—"he mumbles terribly"—and -Weston, silent and rather wan, walking up and down, waiting for -Frederica's return.</p> - -<p>When they heard the key in the front door, the two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> ladies stopped -talking; it was Arthur Weston who went into the hall to take Fred's hand -and help her off with her coat. She hung her hat up beside her father's -and gave her old friend a grim look.</p> - -<p>"Has Billy-boy put on the black cap yet? Or does grandmother demand that -Howard shall 'make an honest woman' of me before the sun sets? I know -what you've been up against!"</p> - -<p>"You are perfectly exhausted," he said, tenderly; "go up-stairs; I'll -fight it out."</p> - -<p>"No," she said, briefly.</p> - -<p>She went into the parlor, looked at her grandmother, shrugged her -shoulders, and girded herself for battle: "I'll tell you the whole -story. Poor Flora has been suffering, probably for a year or more, the -doctor says, from some mental deterioration. She was restless and -unhappy. Of course, we knew that, because she did her work badly—which -inconvenienced us. As far as she was concerned, it didn't trouble us. -She was restless, because she wanted to be married and settle down. And -nobody wanted her; which seemed to us just—funny. But when you come to -think of it, it isn't very funny not to be wanted.... When she couldn't -marry, she tried to get interested in something—music, or anything. She -wanted to <i>do</i> something."</p> - -<p>"Do something? Well, I could have giv—"</p> - -<p>"I tried to make things better for her," Fred went on, heavily, "but I -suppose I didn't try hard enough. Well, anyhow, she saw I was in love -with Howard—" a little shock ran through her hearers; she paused, and -looked at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> them, faintly surprised; "why, you knew I was in love with -him, didn't you? He isn't with me; not in the least. And Flora's young -man wasn't in love with her. He promised to write to her, and he didn't. -And that upset her a good deal. But I think the thing that really hit -her hardest was to see how I felt, and how happy I was. I—I slopped -over, I suppose, a good deal. It was a sort of last straw to Flora to -see me so happy; it made her—well, envious, I suppose. Poor old Flora! -she needn't have been."</p> - -<p>She stopped and put her hand across her eyes, rubbing them wearily. "I -tell you these details merely to explain why I didn't get on to the fact -sooner that she had gone out of the house—I was so absorbed in Howard. -The door <i>did</i> slam, but just at that moment I was ... saying something -to him. So I didn't really notice. Then, afterward, he and I talked and -talked, until it was time for him to go home; and then we discovered—" -She caught her breath and was silent for a moment.</p> - -<p>Her mother was quite overcome. "So distressing for you, dear!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Holmes began to collect her gloves and bags.</p> - -<p>"Poor Flora!" Fred said, unsteadily. "She was so unhappy. Oh—how -unhappy women are!"</p> - -<p>"That's because they are fools," said Mrs. Holmes.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes; we're fools, all right," Frederica said, somberly. Then she -told them of that ride in the fog with the dead woman: "We had done -everything we knew how, and we couldn't make her breathe; so I told -Howard we must take her into Laketon, so we got her into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> auto, and -I held her—" There was a shuddering gasp from Mrs. Holmes; she was -trying to get away, taking a backward step toward the door, then -pausing, then taking another step. The horror of the thing gripped her. -Weston saw her face growing gray under its powder. But still she -listened, straining forward to hear distinctly.</p> - -<p>Frederica was telling them of those terrible twenty minutes in the car, -of the hour in the doctor's office, of the search for the coroner, of -the drive to the undertaker's—then, suddenly, a curious thing happened: -Mrs. Holmes, her face rigid, her false teeth faintly chattering, came up -to her granddaughter and tapped her sharply on the shoulder.</p> - -<p>"I could have done it, too, when I was a girl," she said, harshly; -"but"—her voice broke into a whisper—"not now. I would be afraid, -now." Then loudly, "I'm proud of you! <i>You are no fool.</i>"</p> - -<p>Frederica gave her an astonished look: "Why, grandmother!" It was as if -a stranger had spoken to her—but a stranger who might be a friend.</p> - -<p>The next instant Mrs. Holmes was herself again. "It's all too horrid," -she said.</p> - -<p>"The body," Fred said, "will be brought here this morning"—she glanced -at her watch; "it ought to be here now."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Holmes instantly walked out of the room.</p> - -<p>"The funeral will be here to-morrow. I suppose Anne will know some of -her friends whom we can notify?" She sighed, and again rubbed her hand -over her eyes; then looked at Arthur Weston and smiled. "Howard is all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> -right," she said; "don't make any mistake about <i>that</i>! Mother, I'm -going up-stairs to lie down."</p> - -<p>She went out into the hall, stopped to open the front door for her -departing grandmother, then whistled to Zip, and they heard her drag her -tired young feet up-stairs.</p> - -<p>Arthur Weston's eyes were full of tears.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> - -<p>It was extraordinary how much better Mrs. Payton was in the next few -weeks. Every day she sat in the entry outside Mortimore's door, and hour -after hour she and Miss Carter talked about Flora. Sometimes Mortimore -was troublesome, and laughed or bellowed—and then his mother retreated; -when he quieted down, she returned, and took up the story just where it -had been interrupted. After each detail had been recited, and they had -finally buried poor Flora, rehearsing every incident of the funeral, -they would reach the question of the disposition of her possessions. -Miss Carter had packed them up, and knew just how valueless they -were—"except that lovely collar you gave her. Now <i>I</i> think that is too -good for the Salvation Army!"</p> - -<p>At this point the discussion was apt to become heated, Miss Carter -contending that Flora's things should be sent to one of the negro -schools in the South, and Mrs. Payton standing firmly for the Salvation -Army. Frederica, asked to decide between them, said, briefly, "Burn -'em."</p> - -<p>"Wouldn't that be wasteful?" Mrs. Payton objected, gently.</p> - -<p>She was very gentle to Fred now. Her daughter's statement about being -"in love" had been a very great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> shock to her, not because of its -"indelicacy," painful as that was, but because it awoke in her an -entirely new idea: <i>Freddy was unhappy!</i> It had never occurred to Mrs. -Payton that Freddy could be unhappy about anything—Freddy, who was -always so strong and self-sufficient! That she should suffer, made her -mother feel nearer to her than she had since Frederica was little, and -had scarlet fever, and Mrs. Payton hadn't taken off her clothes for four -days and four nights. So, when her daughter's drooping lip expressed -what she thought of that endless gossiping about Death outside -Mortimore's door, Mrs. Payton was very gentle, and only said that it -would be wasteful to burn Flora's things. Then she tried to explain that -she sat near Morty to cheer Miss Carter. (Freddy must not think it was -on Morty's account! It would be too dreadful if now, "on top of -everything else," she should be brooding over those impatient words, -repented of the minute they were spoken!)</p> - -<p>But Fred displayed no signs of brooding over anything. She took up her -interest in Life just where it had paused for a moment at the touch of -Love. But before she settled down into the commonplaces, of real estate, -and dances, and league work, she had that Pause out with herself....</p> - -<p>She told her mother that she was going to the bungalow to put things to -rights. (This was about five days after Flora's death.) "Everything is -just as we left it. She hadn't even washed the dishes. And I left a few -things there that I must bring home."</p> - -<p>"Take Anne to help you."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p><p>"Anne would have a fit—she's so superstitious! No; I don't need -anybody."</p> - -<p>"I'll go with you," Mrs. Payton ventured.</p> - -<p>Fred was frankly amused at the suggestion. "You! No; much obliged, but I -don't want any one."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton did not urge; back in her mind there was a dim memory of a -time when she, too, had been alive—and suffered, and wanted to be -alone. She said something, hesitatingly, to this effect to Arthur -Weston, who dropped in that morning to know how they were getting along.</p> - -<p>"Freddy has gone out to that awful place, to pack up," she said; "I'm -sure it's very damp, and I'm terribly afraid she'll take cold. But she -would go. Sometimes a person likes to be by themselves," she ended.</p> - -<p>He was surprised at such understanding; but he only said, quietly, that -he would drive out late in the afternoon and bring her home in his car. -"She can have eight hours to herself," he said. (He had had some hours -to himself in the last few days; hours of pacing up and down his -library—saying over and over, "If Maitland isn't in love with her, why -shouldn't I at least tell her that I—? No! I have no chance. But if she -<i>should</i> forget him? No, no. I mustn't think of it!")</p> - -<p>For the eight hours alone Frederica had been thirsting:</p> - -<p>Solitude.</p> - -<p>Lapping—lapping—lapping water.</p> - -<p>Wind in the branches.</p> - -<p>Shadows traveling across distant hills.</p> - -<p>And no human face! No human sound!</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p><p>So, with Zip under her arm, she took the early train to Lakeville.</p> - -<p>From the station she walked along the sandy road where dead leaves had -begun to fill the wheel-ruts, down to the huddle of boarded-up cottages -on the shore. The last time she had gone over that road, how thick the -fog had been! Now, the lake was a placid white shimmer against the -horizon's brooding haze, and the glimmering October sunshine lay like -gilt on the frosted ferns and brakes. She did not meet a single soul. -Except for Zip, dashing along in front of her, or an occasional crow -cawing, and flapping from one tree-top to another, there was only the -wide silence of the sky. The sense of getting away from people gave her -a feeling of relief that was almost physical.</p> - -<p>When she reached Lakeville the sight of Sunrise Cottage was like a blow; -she stopped short, and caught her breath. The lamp Howard had left -outside the house had fallen over—perhaps a squirrel had upset it; the -solferino shade was in fragments; leaves had blown up on the porch. But -the flinching was only for a moment—then she turned the key in the -lock.</p> - -<p>The bungalow, with its shut-up smell, was just as they had left it, -except that, in some indescribable way, it had lost the air of human -habitation. Perhaps because Death had been there. In the faint draught -from the open door a sheet of music slipped from the piano to the floor -and some ashes blew out of the fireplace. The cottage was absolutely -silent.</p> - -<p>Frederica felt cold between her shoulders. She did not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> want to go in, -she did not want to have to turn her back on the stairs that led up to -the vacant rooms—Flora's room! She shivered; set her lips and -entered—but she left the door open behind her into the living world.</p> - -<p>The emptiness of the house clamored in her ears. She found herself -looking, with a sort of fascination, at the disorder of the -chairs—which stood just as Howard had pushed them aside when they -brought Flora in. On the arm of the morris chair was a brass plate -heaped with cigarette-ashes. For some obscure reason those ashes seemed -to her unendurable—how they had glowed, and faded, and glowed again, -filling the room with warm and lazy smoke, while she and Howard—She -lifted the little tray and threw the ashes, almost with violence, into -the fireplace. The movement broke the spell that had held her there -looking at things—at the learned books, filmed with dust, at the -half-burned candles, at the withered roses on the table. Zip nosed about -at that water-soaked spot on the rug, and she spoke to him sharply; then -went over and closed the piano.</p> - -<p>After that, it was easier to go out to the kitchen, though there was -still a tremor at the thought of those empty rooms overhead. Spread out -on the table were the cards, just as Flora had left them. In the sink -was the clutter of unwashed dishes.... Fred drew a long breath, opened -all the windows, lighted a fire in the stove, and went to work.</p> - -<p>Of course the exertion of packing and cleaning was a relief. There was a -great deal to do. So much that she felt at first that she should need -another day to get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> through with it. But her capability was never more -marked—by noon she began to see the end. She ate her luncheon walking -about, holding a sandwich in one hand and packing books with the other. -She had arranged with her landlord to send a van to the cottage for the -piano, and it was also to carry her things back to town; she had thought -of every detail. It was the way she did all her work—drawing up leases, -or talking to women's clubs, or, of late, "making things pleasant" at -Payton Street. Even now, shrinking from the work that must be done -up-stairs, where it was all so empty—so full of Flora!—she was -efficient, methodical, thorough. She scanted nothing. Yet no amount of -busyness dulled the ache of misery which had goaded her out here to be -alone—but she was impatient at herself for feeling the ache.</p> - -<p>It was so unreasonable to be miserable!</p> - -<p>When everything was done—the kitchen tidied, books and clothing and -personal odds and ends packed, even the little white curtains in the -empty rooms up-stairs, all limp and stringy from the creeping October -fogs, pressed and folded and put away—it was still early afternoon. But -there was no train into town until five; she would give herself up to -the silence.</p> - -<p>She went out on the porch and sat down on the lowest step in the -sunshine. Zip ran about, chased a squirrel, then, curling up on her -skirt, went to sleep. Sometimes she rubbed his ears, sometimes stared -out over the lake—</p> - -<p><i>She had been refused.</i> "I am hard hit," she admitted, and her face -quivered. However, she could stand being hit! She could take her -medicine, and not make faces.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> Arthur Weston had said that about her, -and she liked to remember it.</p> - -<p>Suddenly her mind veered away into all sorts of unrelated things. Queer -that Howard cared so much for shells. He had found that pearl in a -shell; the pearl that she had thought—<i>oh</i>, what a fool she had -been!—was meant for her. That old seed-pearl set of her mothers', pin -and ear-rings, would make a dandy pendant. She believed she'd ask her -mother for it. Except on this shell-digging business, how entirely -Howard and she agreed about everything! Few men and girls were so in -accord, mentally. Imagine Howard trying to talk to any of the girls of -her set—even to Laura—as he talked to her! Why, Laura would be dumb -when he got on the things that were worth-while. He had once said that -he would rather talk to her than any girl he knew; no—it was to "any -man" he knew. For a moment the old pride rose—then fell. She almost -wished he <i>had</i> said to "any girl." Well; no girl—or man, either—could -have done better than she did on that poster scheme. Howard would say so -when she would tell him about it, and she was going to tell him; she was -going to talk to him just as she had always talked—about everything on -earth! She <i>must</i>; or else he would think that she was ... hard hit; and -that she simply couldn't bear! The poster scheme reminded her of some -league work she had neglected in these five days of tingling emptiness, -and she frowned. "Gracious! I must attend to that," she said. She did -not know it, but her bruised mind was fleeing for shelter into -trivialities. Suddenly she took her purse out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> her pocket, thrust a -thumb and finger into the place where she kept her visiting-cards, and -took out a burnt match. She looked at it for a moment with a grunt of -bitter laughter; then, finding a little stick, dug a hole in the path, -laid the match in, covered it, and stepped on it, hard.</p> - -<p>"That is the end," she said.</p> - -<p>After a while she realized that she was cold, and went back into the -house and kindled a fire. She sat down on a hassock, and stretched out -her hands to the blaze. The sunshine came through the uncurtained window -and laid a finger on the soot on the chimney back; its faint iridescence -caught her eye. Was it only Monday night that she and Howard had sat -here by the fire, and he had kicked the logs together on the andirons, -and the sparks had caught in the soot and spread and spread in marching -rosettes? Why, it seemed years! It was then that she had—asked him.</p> - -<p>She wasn't ashamed of it! She had proposed and been refused. "He thought -it was stunning in me to do it; he said so! He feels as I do about the -equality of men and women in this kind of thing, as well as everything -else. Of course, he may have said so just to—to make it easier for me? -If I thought <i>that</i>—"</p> - -<p>The blood rushed into her face. She would not think that! It would be -unendurable to think he had not been sincere. "He felt it was perfectly -all right for me to be the one to speak. And it was!"</p> - -<p>Of course it was. There was nothing for her to be ashamed of. She -herself had once refused an offer of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> marriage, and certainly the -rejected suitor had not seemed to suffer any pangs of shame! He had -displayed a rather mean anger: "He wanted my money, and he was hopping -mad when he couldn't get it. I didn't want to get anything. I only -wanted to give! So why don't I brace up? I had a right to 'give.'"</p> - -<p>She was quite certain that she had a right, so why was she so miserable? -So—ashamed.</p> - -<p>In spite of herself she said the word. She had shied away from it, and -refused to utter it, a dozen times; but at last, here, alone, she had to -tell herself the truth.</p> - -<p>She was ashamed.</p> - -<p>It is only when Truth speaks to us, as in the cool of the day the Voice -of God spoke in the Garden, that the human creature knows he is ashamed. -Not to feel Shame is to be deaf to that Voice. Frederica was not deaf; -but the Voice was very faint, very wandering and indirect. She could -hardly hear it. It spoke first in her vague wish that Howard had said he -would rather talk to her than any "girl" he knew; and then it spoke in -the wonder whether a man does like to be "asked."</p> - -<p>"If he doesn't, it's just idiotic tradition. It belongs to the days of -slavery!"</p> - -<p>But how did the tradition grow up that a woman mustn't ask a man to -marry her? She tried to remember something Arthur Weston once said about -men being "born hunters." Her lip drooped, angrily; "Rot!" she said; -"when it comes to love, a woman has as much at stake as a man. No, she -has more at stake! She has the child. Queer," she thought, "the woman is -always the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> one who sticks to the child." She wondered if that was -because women pay such a price for children? It occurred to her, with a -sense of having made a discovery, that all through nature, the mother -cares for her offspring just in proportion to what it costs her to bring -it into the world.</p> - -<p>She rolled Zip over on his back and pulled his ears, her mind dwelling, -with the ancient resentment of her sex, upon the unfairness of -nature—for the father pays no price! "I wonder if that explains -desertion? I wonder if men desert girls, after they've got them into -trouble, simply because the child costs them nothing? But how the girls -stick to the babies, poor things! <i>They</i> hardly ever go off on their own -bat. And yet" (thus the Voice was speaking!), "the child needs a father -to take care of it, as much as a mother, so the man and the woman ought -to keep together.... But <i>he's</i> the one who goes off! It ought to be tit -for tat! Women ought to do the deserting," she said, passionately; but a -moment later came the cynical admission: "Men wouldn't mind being -'deserted.' They'd probably like it. They ought to be <i>made</i> to be -constant. When we get the vote, we'll make laws to stop their -'deserting'!"</p> - -<p>Then she wavered; as far as laws go, there were enough now. The fact -was, men were naturally faithless! "I hate men," she said, between her -set teeth. Arthur Weston was right, they were "hunters." They are -constant—in pursuit. "We ought to keep them on the hot-foot, then -they'd be more keen to stay with us!" In a flash came the rest of -Weston's comment: "They won't bag the game, if it perches on their -fists." Her face reddened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> violently. She had come, head on, against a -biological fact, namely, that reluctance in the woman makes for -permanence in the man.</p> - -<p><i>Reluctance!</i>...</p> - -<p>Her mother's tiresome talk about "cheapness" was suddenly intelligible. -How foolish the word had sounded! Yet, perhaps, under its foolishness -lay a primitive fact: that the welfare of the child demands a permanent -relation between the father and the mother. But in proportion as she is -"cheap," he is temporary, and the relationship is jeopardized!</p> - -<p>She did not put it into words, but she realized, amazed, that woman, -whether she knows it or not, acts upon this old race knowledge. For the -child's sake, she tries, by every sort of lure, to hold man to -permanence which she will herself acquire by the fierce welding of -agony. The surest "lure" is based upon the fact that man pursues that -which flees; but all the lures spring from Nature's purpose to safeguard -the child by giving it the care of two instead of one. For the "child" -is the most important thing in the world!</p> - -<p>Fred was thinking hard. Sometimes she put a stick on the fire, and once -she got up and paced about the room. It came over her, with a rush of -surprise, that all the talk of what girls must and mustn't do, "all the -drivel about 'propriety'!" was based on this same Race instinct.</p> - -<p>She saw that for a girl to love a man, unasked, is neither ignoble nor -immodest. It is divine to love—always! Such love is a jewel, worn -unseen above a girl's heart; to offer it, is to take it out of its white -shelter and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> fling it into hands that, not having sought it, will soon -let it drop between indifferent fingers. She saw how this Race instinct -has gradually—and oh, so painfully, oh, so foolishly, with failure, and -agony, and tragic absurdities of convention, taught women the value of -the reticence of modesty.</p> - -<p>Taught them that they must not be "cheap"!</p> - -<p>It came to her that it was the business of women like herself—the "new" -women, who are going to set Woman free!—it was their business to -discard the absurdities, but keep the beauties and dignities; for beauty -and dignity are "lures," too. "They <i>attract</i>. I suppose that is what -Grandmother means by 'charm,'" she reflected; "she said I hadn't any." -Her face suddenly scorched; to discover a temperamental deficiency made -her wince; it was like discovering a physical blemish. She understood, -now, what Arthur Weston meant when he "rowed" about her being in the -apartment alone with Howard. She had been "cheap." She had "perched on -his fist." He had had no inclination to bag the game....</p> - -<p>It was all very loose and incoherent thinking; she caught at one fact, -only to find it contradicted by another fact. But in all her mental -confusion one anguished wish stood fast:</p> - -<p>"Oh, if I <i>only</i> hadn't asked him!"</p> - -<p>In her futile shame, her head fell on her knees and she caught her -breath in a sort of sob—then sat upright, listening intently: a motor! -<i>Howard?</i> In spite of reason, a leap of hope made her gasp.</p> - -<p>She rose quickly, and stood, her hand over her lips<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>—waiting.... Then -she saw the car, and her heart seemed to drop in her breast; it was only -Arthur Weston.</p> - -<p>He came in, saying, cheerfully, he had heard she was packing, and had -come out to bring her back to town. "We can load the tonneau with -anything you want to take home," he said; "I suppose you haven't any tea -for a wayfarer?" He was very matter-of-fact; he saw the tremor and heard -the catch in the breath.</p> - -<p>There was some tea, she said—but no cream; she would boil some water.</p> - -<p>He sat down, and she waited on him, getting herself in hand, even to the -extent of some pitiful little impertinences. Then, by and by, they -carried her things out to the auto. "My landlord is going to send for -the piano," she said; "all I have to do is to close the shutters."</p> - -<p>He went about with her, helping her, teasing her, and scolding her -because she was tired. When everything was done, and they were just -leaving the house, she paused abruptly, and her hands went up to her -eyes.</p> - -<p>"Poor Flora!"</p> - -<p>He was standing beside her, gentle and pitying, longing to draw those -shaking hands down from her hidden face: "You were always good to her," -he said.</p> - -<p>"No!" she said, in a smothered voice; "no." Then, suddenly, she turned -toward him and sank against his shoulder. He felt the sob that shook her -from head to foot. Instinctively, his arms went about her, and he held -her close to him; he was silent, but he trembled and those passionate -and sensitive eyebrows twitched with pain. It was only for a moment that -he felt her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span>sobbing weight—then she flung her head up, her face -quivering and smeared with tears. "What a liar I am! I'm not crying -about Flora at all. I'm just—unhappy. That's all."</p> - -<p>He took her hand and held it to his lips, silently.</p> - -<p>"I'm tired," she said; "—no! no! I <i>won't</i> lie—I <i>won't</i> lie! I'm not -tired. I've been a fool! That's all. A fool."</p> - -<p>"We all have to be fools, Fred, before we can be wise."</p> - -<p>She had drawn away from him, with a broken laugh. "You don't know -anything about it! <i>You</i> don't know what it's like to be a fool!"</p> - -<p>"Don't I? I was a very big fool myself, once. But I'm so wise now that -I'm glad of all the blows my folly gave me then. I'll tell you about it, -one of these days."</p> - -<p>He told her as they drove back to town. "And," he ended, "I can see that -the best thing that ever happened to me was to have Kate jilt me."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> - -<p>After Fred had gone out into the wilderness, and learned her lesson; -after that long day in the cottage, when her mind had emptied itself of -some of its own certainties, so that deep, primitive knowledges could -flow into it, she took up life again in her own way. She went to her -office, she exercised Zip, she accepted every invitation that came to -her; but she got thin. "Scrawny," her grandmother called it. Also, she -expended a good deal of money on a bridesmaid's dress—for something had -happened! Happened, curiously enough, on the very afternoon when she was -studying that hard page of Nature's book, all alone, in the empty -cottage by the lake....</p> - -<p>The very next morning Laura had burst into 15 Payton Street. "Swear not -to tell," she said; and when Fred had sworn, the secret—glowing, -wonderful! was told in two words:</p> - -<p>"<i>I'm</i> engaged!"</p> - -<p>Then came an ecstatic recital, ending with "I've decided on daffodil -yellow for your dresses. Rather far ahead—for it isn't to be until the -middle of December. But I think it's just as well to plan, don't you?"</p> - -<p>"Of course it is," Fred agreed. ("<i>Oh, if I only hadn't asked him!</i>")</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p><p>"Billy-boy will juggle out enough money for the finest satin going, for -his only daughter; but you girls can have perfectly sweet flowered -voile, over yellow charmeuse. I've a corking idea for your hats." Then -she looked at Fred closely. "You're not a bit surprised; I believe you -knew what was going to happen!"</p> - -<p>Fred laughed non-committally. Laura herself had been so far from knowing -what was going to happen, that Howard Maitland had to fairly pound it -into her that he was in love with her! He had not meant to tell her so -soon. It wouldn't be decent, he thought, remembering that night in the -cottage. He hadn't meant to speak for at least a month. He was going to -mark time, and forget that there had ever been a minute when Fred Payton -had imagined she cared about him—"for, of course, that was all it -amounted to," he told himself; "imagination!" There was more modesty -than truth in his phrase, yet his conviction was sincere enough—"A girl -like Fred couldn't really care for <i>me</i>. I'm not up to her!"</p> - -<p>It was characteristic of his simple soul, that he told Laura the same -thing, when he blundered into the proposal that he had meant to hold -back for a month. It was wrung from him by his despair at her -misunderstanding his feeling about Fred. He was in full swing of -haranguing her upon the wonderfulness of her cousin—"Of course; she's -perfectly stunning," Laura had interrupted; "I know she's simply great. -But why on earth you two don't announce your engagement I can't imagine! -You make me a little tired," she said, good-naturedly, but rather -obviously bored.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p><p>"Announce our <i>what</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Engagement. Do you suppose we are all blind?"</p> - -<p>Howard Maitland actually whitened a little under his Philippine tan. -"You are mistaken, Laura," he said, quietly. "If I have given you the -impression that Fred had the slightest feeling for me, I ought to be -kicked."</p> - -<p>Laura turned an indignant face toward him: "Do you mean to tell me that -Fred has only been flirting with you? I don't believe it! She's not that -kind."</p> - -<p>They were in the Childses' parlor in the yellow dusk of the autumn -afternoon. Laura had given her caller two cups of tea with four lumps of -sugar in each cup, and Howard, between innumerable little cakes, had -been telling her again of Frederica's behavior that terrible night at -the camp. It was at least the third time that she had heard the grim -details, and each time she had shivered and wished he would stop. To -silence him, she had charged upon him for not announcing his engagement; -it seemed flippant, but it would change the subject. His dismay made her -forget Flora, in real bewilderment. Not engaged to Fred! Had Fred played -with him?</p> - -<p>"If Fred's been just flirting, she ought to be ashamed," Laura said, -hotly; "she knew you were perfectly gone on her."</p> - -<p>"Laura, <i>you</i> didn't suppose such a thing?"</p> - -<p>"That you were gone on Fred? Of course I did! I knew you were crazy -about her, a year ago; and so did she. Howard, I'm awfully sorry."</p> - -<p>"Sorry—for what?"</p> - -<p>"For you."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p><p>Howard Maitland got on his feet, and walked the length of the room, and -back; he said something under his breath. Then he drew up a chair beside -her and took her hand.</p> - -<p>"I never thought of such a thing."</p> - -<p>"What!"</p> - -<p>"You are the only girl I ever cared two cents for."</p> - -<p>She put her hand against her young breast, in astounded question: "<i>I?</i>"</p> - -<p>"I should think you'd have seen it. You, and—and everybody."</p> - -<p>"But Howard, it can't be—<i>me</i>?" she protested, faintly.</p> - -<p>"It's been you, always. When you accuse me of being in love with—with -anybody else, and say everybody thought so, you just bowl me over!" His -shocked astonishment left no doubt of his sincerity.</p> - -<p>"But Freddy," Laura began—</p> - -<p>He broke in sharply: "Fred knows how tremendously I admire her. I've -always said so, to you and to her, too. And I believe she likes me as -much as she likes any of us fellows—but of course I'm not up to her, -and she never flirted with me in her life! She's not the kind of girl -who wants to collect scalps," he said, almost with anger. "I never -thought of—caring for her. Why, I—I <i>couldn't</i> care for Fred!"</p> - -<p>"But you were always talking about her, and—"</p> - -<p>"Of course I talked about her! Doesn't everybody talk about her? But as -for being in love with her—Laura, I tell you, you are the only girl in -existence, so far as I'm concerned. I suppose you don't care anything -about me."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p><p>Laura put her hands over her face, and laughed; then stretched them out -to him, and the tears brimmed over.... "Oh, Howard, you are such a -goose!"</p> - -<p>There was a speechless moment; then he put his arms around her, kissed -the fluffy hair that brushed his lips, and said, "Oh, my little darling! -my little love...."</p> - -<p>After that they had to talk it all over, and there were endless -explanations.</p> - -<p>"You do believe I never thought of—anybody else?" he asked, again and -again. And she said yes, she believed it, but she didn't understand it.</p> - -<p>"Why, I was so sure you were in love with her, I used to give you -chances to be together. Do you remember that afternoon you went to say -good-by to her, before you went to the Philippines? I stayed up-stairs -to give you a chance to ask her."</p> - -<p>"<i>Laura!</i>"</p> - -<p>"I did."</p> - -<p>"How could you be so absurd?"</p> - -<p>"Everybody thought so."</p> - -<p>That silenced him. He was horribly ashamed. It was his fault, then, that -night in the cottage? "Everybody thought so." So, naturally, Fred -thought so—and she was the noblest and most generous woman in the -world! "It's my fault somehow, that she spoke," he told himself, in a -passion of humiliation.</p> - -<p>That night he wrote to her. The engagement was not to "come out" for two -or three weeks;—"only the family must know," Laura said; but Howard had -protested: "Fred—let's tell Fred?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p><p>"Well," Laura consented, reluctantly, "I'll go and see her to-morrow -morning and make her swear not to tell."</p> - -<p>"She can keep a secret," he said. He did not add that Fred should learn -the secret before to-morrow morning. "I'm the one to break it to her," -he thought. Then mentally kicked himself for saying "break it."</p> - -<p>When he sat down at his desk that night to write to her, his face was -rigid at what was before him; it was nearly dawn before the task was -finished; letters—long letters, short letters, letters expressing his -admiration for her, letters ignoring it, letters about Laura, about the -Philippines, about Flora—were written out, torn up, flung into the -waste-basket. Then came the brief, blunt truth-telling: Laura had -accepted him, and he knew that she, his old pal, would wish them -happiness. Of course there was a postscript: she would be their very -best friend, because they both thought she was the finest woman they -knew.</p> - -<p>When the letter was addressed and sealed, he went out into the -four-o'clock-in-the-morning stillness, and walked over to Payton Street -to slip it into the letter-box of the sleeping house. He would not trust -it to the mail; he would run no risk of Laura's arriving before the -first delivery. Fred mustn't be caught off guard! Then he walked -home—glanced at a little suspiciously by an officer on his somnolent -beat—about as uncomfortable a young man as ever realized his own -happiness in contrast to some one else's unhappiness—for, in spite of -his modest disclaimer, he knew that Fred was unhappy: "How would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> I feel -if Laura had refused me? And, of course, Fred is harder hit than a man -would be."</p> - -<p>But, no matter how hard hit she was, thanks to that letter, the next -morning, when Laura swore her to secrecy, and said that the bridesmaids' -hats would be <i>dreams</i>! Fred's upper lip was smilingly stiff.</p> - -<p>It was just after that that Mrs. Holmes began to say that her -granddaughter was "scrawny."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> - -<p>Often, in those weeks before Laura's wedding, Mrs. Payton, working out a -puzzle, or playing Canfield on the big rosewood table in the -sitting-room, would stop and stare straight before her, with unseeing -eyes.... Like a needle working its way through nerveless flesh toward -some vital spot, a new emotion, <i>anger</i>, was penetrating the routine of -her meaningless days.</p> - -<p><i>Laura had cut Freddy out!</i></p> - -<p>Love for Morty, the dam love, which is the habit of the body and has -nothing to do with the intellect, was pushed aside by the new idea: -Freddy was suffering because Laura had stolen her lover.</p> - -<p>"It was despicable in her!" Mrs. Payton said to herself—and the -needle-point of anger came a little nearer to that sleeping nerve of -maternity, which, when it was reached, would, in a pang of exquisite -pain, make her love Fred as she had never loved anything in her life.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton put a black nine on a red eight; saw her mistake, frowned, -and put out a mechanical hand to correct it. "I wonder if she would -drink a glass of malted milk at night, if I fixed it for her?" she -thought; and uncovered an ace. "Laura hasn't half her brains!" she said, -and put the card in the ace row; "how could Mr. Maitland<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> see anything -to her—except looks? She <i>is</i> pretty. But Freddy is worth a dozen of -her, and he was head over ears in love with her! Yes; Laura simply took -him from her! I shall never feel the same to Laura again;—and I suppose -Bessie and William expect me to give her a handsome wedding-present." -She wondered, with vague malice, whether there wasn't something in the -house—the old wonder of the reluctant giver of gifts!—that she could -send Laura? Some family silver; the epergne, for instance, three silver -squirrels holding a platter on their heads.</p> - -<p>The question of the wedding-present was so irritating to her, that in -the afternoon, when Freddy came in, rather listlessly (this was in -November—a month before the wedding), Mrs. Payton referred the matter -to her—shifting her angry pain to Freddy's galled young shoulders. -There was no wincing.</p> - -<p>"What shall we give Laura?"</p> - -<p>"Something bully! I was talking to her about it to-day, and asked her -what she wanted. I think a rug is the thing."</p> - -<p>"I wonder if some of the Payton silver—" Mrs. Payton began—but Fred -threw up horrified hands.</p> - -<p>"No! No second-hand goods! And it's got to be something first rate, too; -(if it takes my last dollar!)" she added, under her breath.</p> - -<p>The rug did not take quite the last dollar, but it took more than she -could afford, and Laura was perfectly delighted with it. Howard, -standing on it, his hands in his pockets, dug an appreciative heel into -its silky nap, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> made his usual comment: "It's bully! Fred's taste is -great!"</p> - -<p>Sometimes, looking back on the night that Flora died, Howard wondered if -it all (except the poor soul's suicide) was not a dream? For Fred <i>was</i> -so "bully"!... Entering into all Laura's ecstasies and anxieties; crazy -to know who would make the wedding-dress; perfectly wild over Howard's -present to his bride; frantic because it was too early to get jonquils -for the rope down each side of the aisle.... That astounding moment in -the bungalow must have been, Howard told himself, a dream! Two -dreams—his and Fred's, for she evidently cared no more for him than for -old Weston.</p> - -<p>So the days passed (Howard thought they never would pass!) and the Day -drew near. When it came, Frederica Payton's head was as high as any of -the other young heads. There were eight of them, in most marvelous and -expensive yellow hats, to follow the shimmering Laura up the aisle. At -the reception afterward, Frederica, in her vivid joyousness almost—so -her Uncle William said—"took the shine off the bride! Remember -Shakespeare (as <i>you'd</i> say)—</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"Bring in our daughter</div> -<div>Clothed like a bride ...</div> -<div>See, where she comes,</div> -<div>Appareled like the spring,"—</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Mr. Childs quoted, puffing happily—"but that frock you've got on is -spring-like, too—all yellow and white, like buttercups and daisies."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p><p>"I'm rather stuck on it, myself," Fred said, complacently; she was -standing beside Arthur Weston, eating ice-cream with appetite.</p> - -<p>"Well," her uncle said, chuckling, "I may tell you in confidence—Hey, -Howard!" he interrupted himself, clutching at the passing bridegroom, "I -was just telling Freddy that I was very much astonished when I learned -that you were to be my son-in-law. I thought you were making up to her!"</p> - -<p>"To <i>me</i>?" said Fred, incredulously; "he never knew I existed when Laura -was around!"</p> - -<p>"I'm just looking for Laura now," Howard said, with a gasp; "she's -deserted me!" he complained, laughing—and escaped.</p> - -<p>"Oh," Mr. Childs said, clapping his niece on the shoulder so heartily -that her ice-cream spilled over, "of course I know, now, that it's -always been Laura!"</p> - -<p>"Yes," Fred agreed, gaily, "he's been dead set for Lolly for the last -two years."</p> - -<p>So she got through with the Day.... When she reached home, and up in her -own room took off the yellow hat, she took off that gallant smile, too; -she had worn it until the muscles about her lips were stiff. She was -profoundly fatigued; too fatigued to feel anything but relief that the -wedding was over. Even the old ache of wishing she "hadn't told him" was -numbed. It was part of the generosity of her honest, sore young heart, -that she felt a faint satisfaction in the fact that, anyhow, <i>he</i> was -happy; as for Laura—"how mean I am to—dislike her! It wasn't her -fault, and she's just the same old Lolly. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> <i>won't</i> dislike her! I'll -love her, just as I've always loved her." When she went down to dinner -that night she put the smile on again, and was very airy and smart in -her comments to Mrs. Payton upon the Childs family, and the company in -general.</p> - -<p>"Laura was perfectly sweet! But Aunt Bessie is too fat to wear such -tight clothes. Why do the fat fifties always wear tight clothes?... -Grandmother wasn't shy on powder, was she?... Billy-boy would talk about -Bacon at his own funeral!... How many kinds of a fool do you suppose -that old hag, Maria Spencer, is?... I—I guess I'll go to bed. I was an -idiot to eat ice-cream; it always makes my head ache."</p> - -<p>Perhaps her head ached too badly for sleep. At any rate, hours later, -when 15 Payton Street had sunk into midnight darkness, she heard a board -creak under a careful step in the hall, and sat up in bed, saying, -sharply, "Who's that?"</p> - -<p>"It's I, dear. Don't be frightened." Mrs. Payton came feeling her way -across the room to Fred's bedside.</p> - -<p>"Is anything the matter? Is Mortimore—"</p> - -<p>"No, no; nothing! Only, Freddy, my darling, I—I just want to tell you -something." She sat down on the edge of the bed, and Frederica heard her -draw in her breath in a sob.</p> - -<p>"Mother! Are you ill?"</p> - -<p>"No—no. But Freddy, I—I didn't mean it when I said that about -Mortimore."</p> - -<p>"Said what?" Fred said, frowning with anxiety; "here, let me light the -gas!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p><p>"No, don't!" Mrs. Payton put a restraining hand on her daughter's -shoulder; "about—about loving him best. I don't, dear; truly I don't."</p> - -<p>"But, Mother!"—Fred put her arms about the soft, loose figure that -tumbled into sobs against her—"I didn't know you said it, and if you -did, I don't mind it in the least!" She felt her mother's tears on her -cheek, and gathered her up against her breast; "Why, Mother! It's all -right—really it is. It's all right to love him best—"</p> - -<p>"But I don't—I <i>don't</i>! I love you best."</p> - -<p>"Why," Fred soothed her, "I didn't even remember you'd said it. You only -told me I was like Father—and that did me good."</p> - -<p>"No! I never said you were! And it isn't so. You're <i>not</i>—not a bit! My -little Freddy!"</p> - -<p>Frederica smiled grimly in the darkness, and she let the statement pass; -for suddenly something surged up in her breast; something she had never -felt in her life; something that was actual pain; she had no name for -it, but it made the tears sting in her eyes. "There, dear, there!" she -comforted her cowering mother; ... "I understand," she said, brokenly; -"I understand!"</p> - -<p>It is a wonderful moment, this moment of "understanding." It made Fred -draw the foolish gray head down on her young breast, and caress and -comfort it, as years ago her own little head had been caressed and -kissed. They were both "mothers" at that moment.</p> - -<p>So Laura's wedding-day was lived through. And by and by the weeks that -followed were lived through. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> then the months pushed in between Fred -and that night at the camp. She never spoke of Howard and Laura.</p> - -<p>"I wonder if she's got over it," Mrs. Payton speculated, wistfully. She -was glad, for her part, that the bride and bridegroom had gone abroad, -and she did not have to see them—"especially Laura!" she used to say to -herself, bitterly. If Fred was bitter, she didn't show it; she was -absorbed in league work, and a really growing real-estate business; it -was all she could do to find time to listen when her mother talked, and -talked, and talked—or people, or puzzles, or parlor-maids! But how -could she fail to listen—no matter how dull and foolish the talk -was—remembering that midnight of pity?</p> - -<p>"Freddy is getting very companionable," Mrs. Payton told Arthur Weston. -He had come upon Fred bending over a puzzle spread out on the big table -in the sitting-room, and trying to fit one wriggly piece of blue after -another into a maliciously large expanse of uncharted sky; she had been -obviously relieved at the chance to shift the entertainment of Mrs. -Payton to his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"I've got to go to a league meeting," she excused herself. When she had -gone and he was standing with his back to the fire, sipping his tea and -talking pleasantly of the weather, or the barber's children, or poor -Flora's tendency to put too much starch in the table linen (raising his -voice, in a matter-of-fact way, when there was a noise behind the door -of the other room), he agreed warmly with Mrs. Payton's tribute to her -daughter: "Freddy is getting companionable."</p> - -<p>"Indeed she is!" he said, and added that she was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span>remarkably clever -about puzzles—which pleased Mrs. Payton very much. This new sense of -sympathy which held Fred down to picture puzzles, made her try to avoid -topics on which she knew she and her mother could not agree. As the -winter went on, the especial topic to be avoided was a strike among the -rubber workers. Fred was passionately for the strikers, who were all -girls. She went constantly to Hazelton, where the factory was, to give -what help she could to the union women, and to admonish them that the -way to cure industrial conditions, which all fair-minded people admitted -were frightful, was by the ballot.</p> - -<p>"Get the man's ballot, and you'll get the man's wages!" was her -slogan—and she was quite fierce with her man of business when he -pointed out the economic fallacy of her words.</p> - -<p>"The kingdom of God cometh not by the ballot," he admonished her.</p> - -<p>"I feel as if I were going to Sunday-school!"</p> - -<p>"A little Sunday-school wouldn't hurt you. It never seems to strike -you," he ruminated, "that if 'laws,' which you are so anxious to have a -hand in making, could settle supply and demand, the men, poor creatures, -would have feathered their own nests a little better."</p> - -<p>To which Miss Payton replied, concisely, "Rot!"—and continued to tell -the strikers that suffrage was a cure-all.</p> - -<p>It was in March that one of the morning papers announced, with snobbish -detail, that Miss Freddy Payton, a "young society girl," had "patrolled" -to keep off scabs. That evening, at dinner, Mrs. Payton, mortified to -death<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> at the notoriety, and encouraged by Arthur Weston's presence at -the table, ventured into controversy:</p> - -<p>"When I was a young lady—" she began, and instantly Frederica's lance -was in rest! She did not mean to be cruel—but she couldn't help being -smart. Her mother's injured sense of propriety was batted back to her -across the dinner-table, like a shuttlecock from a resounding -battledore.</p> - -<p>"You may say what you like," Mrs. Payton said, obstinately, "but I don't -believe it would make a bit of difference to give those perfectly -uneducated Italian girls a vote. It hasn't," she ended, with one of -those flashes of shrewdness so characteristic of dull women, "made any -difference in the men's wages. And, anyhow, I don't understand why you -like to mix yourself up with all sorts of persons."</p> - -<p>"The Founder of your religion mixed Himself with all sorts of persons," -Frederica said, wickedly; "but, of course, He would not be in society -to-day."</p> - -<p>"That is a very irreverent thing to say," Mrs. Payton said, stiffly.</p> - -<p>("Now, why," Mr. Weston pondered, "why doesn't the atrocious taste of -that sort of talk cure me? Because," he answered himself, "it 'amuses' -me! Oh, Cousin Eliza, you are a wise old woman!")</p> - -<p>As for Frederica, she was not conscious that her lack of taste was -amusing; but she knew it was unkind, and felt the instant stab of -remorse. ("I'm just like Father!" she groaned to herself); then with -resolution she began to talk about puzzles; she said she thought the -reason her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> mother couldn't work out that six-hundred-piece one was -because the people who made it had omitted some pieces, and it never -could be got out.</p> - -<p>"Try it a few days longer," Fred said, "and then, if you want me to, -I'll write to the people who manufactured it and ask them about it. -Arthur Weston! I am going to stand by those girls in Hazelton until they -win out!"</p> - -<p>"When they do, their work will stop," he prophesied, mildly. "The -factory hasn't paid a dividend for three years, and if wages go up, it -will shut up. I happen to know how they stand."</p> - -<p>"Laura's back," Fred said, abruptly; "they got home yesterday. I asked -her if she'd walk in the parade, and she said, 'Howard wouldn't like -it!' That sort of thing makes me tired."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> - -<p>The invitation to walk in the parade had not been given easily. Fred had -forced herself to ask Laura, for very shame at the ache of resentment -which neither reason, nor her old habit of affection for her cousin, -could conquer. Laura's refusal gave her a sort of angry satisfaction. -"<i>Of course!</i> What could you expect? She's a sweet little thing, but she -has no mind to speak of. Poor Howard! She must bore him to death." As -for Howard's not liking parades,—well, that was queer. He never had -quite realized their value; probably because he hadn't really thought -about them. She would talk it over with him sometime, and make him -understand. She was not in the least annoyed with Howard, but it was all -she could do to hide her contempt for Laura; "Why <i>do</i> women grovel so -before men? It makes me perfectly sick!" Even when Laura, with the old, -puppy-like devotion, offered, one morning, to go with her to Hazelton -where Fred was to address the strikers, it was not easy to be cordial.</p> - -<p>"I'll tag around after you, and clap," Laura said.</p> - -<p>"Howard willing?" Fred said, sarcastically.</p> - -<p>Laura laughed: "I haven't asked him. He's in Cincinnati. Won't be home -until this afternoon."</p> - -<p>"I suppose you wouldn't go if he wasn't?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p><p>"I suppose I wouldn't," Laura said, simply.</p> - -<p>Fred's lip drooped. But she only said, good-naturedly, "Come along!" -They went to Hazelton by trolley, Fred having vetoed Laura's limousine: -"It's too much 'Lady Bountiful.' Your gasolene for a week would pay a -girl's board for a month."</p> - -<p>In the long ride, spinning and jouncing through the countryside until -they reached the squalid outskirts of the little town, Frederica -listened to Laura's talk of Europe—and Howard. Of Paris frocks—and -Howard. Of the voyage home—and Howard.</p> - -<p>"I won't be horrid, I <i>won't</i>! I love her just exactly the same—" Fred -was saying to herself, staring out of the window at the flying -landscape, at the woods where the leafless trees were showing the haze -of swelling buds, at the snow, melting in the frozen furrows. "Yes...." -"No...." "Really?" she would say, when sometimes Laura's chatter paused. -("Oh, how bored Howard must be by this sort of thing!" she thought. She -couldn't help remembering how differently she had talked to Howard—the -big things, the real things! "Poor old Howard!") Once there was quite a -long pause, and Fred stopped watching the racing landscape and looked at -Laura. It was then that Laura softly told her a piece of news:</p> - -<p>"Of course, Howard's awfully pleased. He wants a girl, but I want a -boy."</p> - -<p>Frederica was silent for a moment: then, very gentle and tender, "I'm -awfully glad," she said, and squeezed Laura's hand.</p> - -<p>Then the chatter began again, and Fred looked out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> the window at the -snow melting on slopes that faced the sun.</p> - -<p>The hall in Hazelton where the strikers were awaiting Frederica was -terribly hot and stuffy, and packed with women crowding so closely about -the melon-shaped iron stove that the air was stifling with the smell of -scorching clothes. It occurred to Laura, opening a window -surreptitiously, that the girls were here as much for the sake of the -glowing stove as for the chance to hear Fred. She watched her cousin -with shrinking admiration. What she said did not particularly interest -her, but Frederica's intimacy with the girls made her wonder. "She -<i>touches</i> them!" Laura thought, with a quiver of disgust.</p> - -<p>When Fred had made her speech—which Laura vociferously applauded—they -all trooped out into the street, but paused while Frederica (Laura -skulking behind her) stood in the doorway for a further harangue. -Unfortunately—because the knot of listening girls obstructed the -sidewalk—a police officer, shoving them out of the way, happened to -show some rudeness to a little Italian, who, in return, jabbering -shrilly, struck at the man's patient and restraining arm, which caused -him to gather her two delicate wrists in one big, vise-like hand, and -hold her, a little, kicking, struggling creature, who made about as much -impression on his large blue bulk as a sparrow might make upon a -locomotive.</p> - -<p>"There, now, keep quiet, sissy," he said, wearily.</p> - -<p>But Catalina kicked harder than ever, and the officer shook her, gently. -It was at that moment that Fred's eye fell upon him.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p><p>"I'll stop that!" she said, between shut teeth.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Fred, don't do anything," Laura entreated,—but Fred was at the -man's side.</p> - -<p>Her anger disconcerted him. "It's against the law to obstruct the -sidewalk," he explained.</p> - -<p>"I had no hand in making the law, and therefore I shall not obey it!"</p> - -<p>"Better can that talk, and keep it for the Court," said the man, -beginning to get red in the face. To which Frederica retorted by telling -him her opinion of men in general and policemen in particular.</p> - -<p>A man can stand kicks from little feet, but "lip"—after a certain point -of forbearance has been reached, is another matter. Fred punctuated her -remonstrances by putting an abrupt hand on his arm, and instantly there -was an unseemly scuffle, in which Laura, running out from the shelter of -the doorway, tried to draw Fred away. The result was that before they -really knew what had happened, the little Italian, Miss Frederica -Payton, and Mrs. Howard Maitland found themselves in a patrol-wagon -rumbling and jouncing along over the icy Belgian blocks, a taciturn man -in a blue coat sitting in the doorway of the van to prevent any possible -leap to liberty.</p> - -<p>The whole thing was so sudden that the cousins were perfectly -bewildered. Even as they were being hustled into the wagon, a crowd had -gathered, springing up, apparently, out of the ground. There had been a -sea of faces—good natured, amused, unconcerned faces; a medley of -voices, jeering and hooting, or raucously sympathetic; a vision of the -striking girls—for whose cause they were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> there!—forsaking them, -melting away, fleeing around corners and up side-streets; then, the -jolting along through the noon emptiness of the streets, toward the -station-house.</p> - -<p>Frederica, getting her breath, after the suddenness of it all, grew very -much excited. She scented the fray—the contest between man-made laws -and unconsulted woman! It occurred to her—though Laura said, in -despairing tones, "Oh, Fred, <i>please</i> don't"—to fling some suffrage -literature into the street over the head of the officer; she did it -until he told her to "set still, you!" At which Catalina, hearing her -defender reproved, kicked him, causing him to turn around and grab her -ankle; he held it in one great paw, and whistled, absently.</p> - -<p>Fred was furious. "Don't touch that girl's ankle!" she said.</p> - -<p>"Shut up," he replied, calmly; and, oblivious of both of them, still -holding Catalina's little kicking feet, he began to talk over his -shoulder to the driver of the van about the price of cucumbers. "Here, -you!" he interrupted himself—"stop biting, sissy! Gee! this chippy has -teeth—" and he poked Catalina, playfully, with his club. Frederica -whitened with rage, but Catalina lapsed suddenly into such abject fright -that when they reached their destination she had to be lifted out of the -wagon, and pushed—not too gently—up the steps into the station-house. -Laura, who got out next, was shaking so that the officer put a friendly -hand under her elbow to assist her. Frederica followed the other two, -her head high with anger and interest.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span></p><p>In the station-house, the receiving-room, with its one dirt-incrusted -window, was dark, even at one o'clock—perhaps because, shoulder-high on -the long-unwashed paint, was a dado of grime left by innumerable -cringing backs. There was one back against it now; a drunken man, with -wabbling head and glassy, half-shut eyes, was whining and sobbing, and -trying to keep on his legs. When the sergeant asked his name, he -answered by a hiccough which the officer, as indifferent and efficient -as a cog in some slowly revolving and crushing wheel, translated into -"Thomas Coney." "Come, stop crying; be a perfect gentleman, Tommy, be a -perfect gentleman!" he said, yawning. And, curiously enough, Tommy -straightened up and swallowed his sobs.</p> - -<p>"Look at him!" Fred whispered to Laura; "he's getting hold of himself! I -suppose that's his idea of a perfect gentleman."</p> - -<p>Laura, rigid with misery, made no answer. When Thomas had been disposed -of—watched by Frederica's intent eyes—she and Laura, whose knees were -plainly shaking, and Catalina, who was sobbing and calling upon God, -lined up in front of the sergeant's desk. Frederica answered the usual -questions with brief directness; her attitude toward the big, bored -officer was distinctly friendly and confidential; as he closed the -blotter, she began to tell him that she had been urging the girls to -demand the bal— Before she could finish the word, she found herself, to -her angry amazement, being moved along toward the corridor.</p> - -<p>"But—stop! I have not finished. And I want to telephone, and—"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p><p>"What number?"</p> - -<p>Both girls spoke at once, Frederica giving Mr. Weston's number, and -Laura, stammering with apprehension that Howard might not go directly -home from the train, naming her own house. "Ask Mr. Weston to hunt -Howard up," she implored her cousin. The telephoning was fruitless, as -neither gentleman could be found.</p> - -<p>"You can try 'em again over at the House of Detention," the man said, -not unkindly. "Move on! Move on!"</p> - -<p>They moved on, in spite of themselves, assisted by the impersonal -pressure of an officer's hand on Fred's shoulder—Laura shivering all -over, Fred's face red with displeasure at the affront of not being -listened to, Catalina perfectly happy and inclined to giggle.</p> - -<p>"You'll make Mr. Weston find Howard?" Laura said, in a frantic whisper, -as they walked across the courtyard to the little jail back of the -station-house. "Oh, I was going to meet him,—and I am <i>here</i>!"</p> - -<p>Fred shrugged her shoulders: "Why did you come, if you mind it so? -(Married women are awfully poor sports," she thought.)</p> - -<p>"Do you think I'd funk and leave you?" Laura retorted; and Fred's face -softened.</p> - -<p>"Howard will be so upset—" Laura said, quivering.</p> - -<p>"Nonsense! He'll see the fun of it," Fred assured her. In matters of -this kind, she understood Howard better than little Lolly ever could....</p> - -<p>Her face was glowing with excitement! This meant something to the Cause! -An old phrase ran through her mind, "The blood of the martyrs is the -seed,"—"I tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> you what, Laura," she said, under her breath, "this -ridiculous business is the seed of a big thing; it has given me a great -idea: <i>let women refuse to obey the laws, until they are allowed to make -them!</i>"</p> - -<p>"This way," said the officer, and herded them into the receiving-room of -the House of Detention. The next few minutes stung even Fred's -aplomb—they were searched! The indignity of hands passing down her -figure—hands not rough, not unkind, not insulting, merely -mechanical,—made her unreasonably, but quite furiously, angry. Laura -was a little shocked, but her dignity was simple and unshaken. Catalina, -her dirty, streaky face puffed with crying, laughed loudly with -amusement.</p> - -<p>"This is abominable!" Fred said, her voice shaking. The matron, making -notes on a pad, paid no attention to the protest. It was all in the -day's work—human wreckage washed up out of the gutter, rose in this -bleak, stone-lined room every day; rose, flooded into the surrounding -cells, where it vociferated, wept, pleaded, stood rigid with fury and -shame, or else collapsed into sodden slumber. Then, by and by, it ebbed -away. And the next day, and the next, the same drift and ruin of -humanity flooded in and drifted out.</p> - -<p>After further telephoning had been promised by the matron, the three -girls were placed in a cell. Catalina at once flung herself full length -on the bench that ran along two sides of it; Fred sat down and took out -her note-book. "I mustn't forget one incident," she told herself. The -experience had penetrated below the theatrical consciousness of -martyrdom, and roused a primitive anger,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> not for herself, or the other -two (of whom, to tell the truth, she thought very little), but against -the wastefulness of a system which permitted this wreckage to sweep in -and sweep out—unchecked, unchanged, over and over. She saw, as she had -never seen before, the righteousness of woman's demand that she should -have a hand in the making and the administering of Law. She was -impressed, not so much by the injustice of leaving the punishment of -women to men, as by the irrationality of it.</p> - -<p>"There ought to have been a woman in that station-house," she said; "and -there ought to be women police officers and judges. Just wait till we -get the vote, Laura—<i>we'll</i> stop this idiocy! That's what it is: -idiocy, not justice."</p> - -<p>Laura was not concerned about terms; she stood, tense and trembling, -gripping the iron bars of the door. "Howard will be so upset, and Father -will be dreadfully angry!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes," Fred agreed, carelessly, "Uncle William will have a fit, of -course. But I'll bet on Howard! Mother will almost die of it, I'm -afraid," she said, her face sobering; "I'm sorry about that. But, of -course, Laura, that's the penalty of progress. We—you and I and -Howard—are moving the world, and the old people have got to get out of -the way or get run over!"</p> - -<p>Laura was silent.</p> - -<p>"The thing that hits me hardest," said Frederica, "is the way women -won't stand together. Every one of those girls took to their heels."</p> - -<p>"Oh, <i>when</i> will Howard come?" said Laura, with a sobbing breath. She -was not sorry she had stood by Fred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> when all the rest of them "took to -their heels," only—"I'll die if he doesn't come soon!" she thought, -shaking very much. Once she glanced over her shoulder at Frederica, who -was straining her eyes (the cell was lighted only from the hall) over -her note-book, and she felt a faint thrill of admiration. Imagine, -making notes at such a moment!</p> - -<p>The afternoon passed; hours—hours—hours.</p> - -<p>"Oh, when will somebody come?" Laura said, in a whisper. Frederica had -put up her note-book, and seemed absorbed in thought. Catalina was -asleep.</p> - -<p>There came a sound of voices in the outer court, and again Laura -clutched at the iron bars. (She had been at the grating ever since the -lock was turned upon them.)</p> - -<p>"It's Howard!"</p> - -<p>Even Fred was moved to stand up and peer out into the whitewashed -corridor—then both girls shrank back; a drunken negress was being -pulled along over the flagstones of the passage to the receiving-room; a -few minutes later, she was pulled back again, and they heard the clang -of a cell door; then yells, then evidently sickness; then cries upon God -and the devil, and a torrent of unspeakably vile invective. Even Fred -quailed before it, and Laura clung to her in such a paroxysm of fear -that they neither of them heard the hurrying feet outside on the -flagging—then the lock was flung out, and Howard caught his wife in his -arms.</p> - -<p>"I just got word," he said, hoarsely; "Weston caught me at the club. My -darling!"</p> - -<p>The tears were in his eyes and his face was as white as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> Laura's. Behind -him, Arthur Weston looked grimly over his head at Frederica.</p> - -<p>"I had to chase him all around town," he said, "or we'd have been here -before. And it's taken time to bail you out."</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry to have bothered you," Fred said; "but it's been an awfully -valuable experience to Laura and me. <i>I</i> wouldn't have missed it for -anything!"</p> - -<p>The matron, faintly interested, was standing by to see the end of it. -"Them swells will learn something," she whispered, to her assistant; "I -guess that thin one ain't bad. I thought she was. Well, good-by, ma'am," -she said, listlessly; and went back to work on a piece of dingy -embroidery until the next dumping of human rubbish should claim her -attention.</p> - -<p>Out in the courtyard Frederica made a little delay. Where was Catalina -to go? What was she to do? "Out on bail? Does that mean she's got to -come back here again?"</p> - -<p>"It means that she's got to report at the municipal criminal court," Mr. -Weston instructed her; "and so have you and Laura, unless I can patch -things up."</p> - -<p>"Good!" Fred said, eagerly, "I wanted to know the end of this silly -business!"</p> - -<p>She got into the limousine, where Laura, still very white, had been -placed by Howard, who put an unabashed arm about her. His impatience at -Fred's delay was obvious.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Weston! for the Lord's sake, shut her up!" he said, angrily.</p> - -<p>Frederica, sitting down beside him, gave him an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>astonished look. "It -was I who was talking, not Catalina," she explained; "I was telling her -what to do. Of course I couldn't go away and leave her to shift for -herself. Howard, this has been a great experience!"</p> - -<p>Howard's jaw set: "Laura, dear," he whispered, "it's all right. Don't -shake so, Kitty! It's all right. Mr. Weston will fix it up so you -needn't go to court."</p> - -<p>"You see," Fred began, volubly, "it all happened because of the -policeman's rudeness to that poor little Catalina; Laura and I had to -protect her, and—"</p> - -<p>"Look here"—Howard turned a fierce face upon her—"you can make a fool -of yourself, all you want to, but I'll thank you not to drag my wife -into your damned nonsense!"</p> - -<p>Frederica stared at him, open-mouthed.</p> - -<p>"Maitland," the other man said, gravely, "I am sure you will apologize -for that."</p> - -<p>Howard's hand clenched over his little Laura's; he swallowed, and set -his teeth. "If I have been rude, I apologize. But the fact remains; Fred -ought not to have dragged Laura into any such disgusting and indecent -business!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Howard!" Laura protested; "she didn't. I did it myself. It wasn't -Fred's fault."</p> - -<p>Frederica was silent, but Weston saw her face fall into lines of haggard -amazement. As they went spinning along back to town, Howard gave himself -up to whispering to Laura. Arthur Weston asked one or two questions, and -Frederica told him, briefly, just what had caused the disturbance that -ended in the "interesting experience." For the most part no one spoke.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p><p>At the Maitland house, Howard almost lifted his little wife out of the -car; he was quivering with pain at her pain—at the thought that her -ears had heard the moans of Life, that her eyes had seen its filth and -horror; he was so angry at Frederica that he could not trust himself -even to look at her. Of course he made no farewells. He closed the door -of the limousine with a bang, and said, through the open window:</p> - -<p>"Mr. Weston, do anything, <i>any</i>thing! so that Laura won't be dragged -into it. Any amount of money, of course! And the newspapers—good Lord! -Can we fix them?"</p> - -<p>"I'll see what can be done," Weston said; and the car spun away.</p> - -<p>Frederica turned a bewildered face upon him. She stammered a little:</p> - -<p>"He didn't"—her voice fell to an astonished whisper—"<i>understand</i>."</p> - -<p>They scarcely spoke until they reached the Payton house; it was dusk -when they went up the steps together and rung the front-door bell. ("I -am coming in to explain things to your mother," he said, quietly.) But -as they stood waiting for the door to be opened, Frederica, looking at -him with miserable eyes, made a gesture of finality.</p> - -<p>"<i>I never knew him</i>," she said.</p> - -<p>As they heard the feet of the parlor-maid coming through the hall, she -gripped his arm with her trembling hand:</p> - -<p>"Arthur," she said, in a whisper; "just think! I asked—I asked him to -marry me. And this is what he is!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> - -<p>The whole connection seethed! The notoriety of Flora's death was nothing -compared with this notoriety. The police court! The newspapers! The -gossip of Mrs. Childs's Bridge Club! And, on top of everything else, the -shock to Laura.</p> - -<p>"You see," Mrs. Payton explained to her daughter, "she's going to have a -baby, and—"</p> - -<p>"I know," Fred said, soberly; "she told me. Of course I wouldn't have -let her go, if I'd known there was going to be rough-house."</p> - -<p>"It's absurd to blame you," her mother said. "As I told your Aunt -Bessie, 'It's absurd to blame Freddy!'"</p> - -<p>"I don't mind being blamed. I oughtn't to have taken her, anyhow. She -doesn't really care for the things I care for. She's entirely under -Howard's thumb, poor dear!"</p> - -<p>Mr. William Childs was almost sick with anger, and Mrs. Childs, with her -calm interest in other people's troubles, agreed with Miss Mary Graham, -who said that, of course, Miss Freddy meant well; but sometimes the -brain defect didn't show at once, as it did in her brother. "It comes on -when they are about twenty-five," said Miss Mary.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Childs said that was the most charitable way to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> look at it, -and—amiably ready to tell anything to anybody—repeated the charitable -opinion to Mrs. Payton.</p> - -<p>"What did the older one say?" Fred's mother asked, distractedly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Childs hesitated: "Nothing very sensible; indeed, I don't know just -what she meant. Something out of the Bible—that they said Christ had a -devil, too. Quite profane, I thought."</p> - -<p>"Fred isn't a devil!" Mrs. Payton said, angrily, her maternal claws -ready to scratch the "older one," whose protection of Frederica was -understood only by Arthur Weston, who loved her for it, but warned her -that unless Bacon was the author of the phrase she had quoted it would -not soothe the Childs family.</p> - -<p>Certainly it did not soothe Bobby and Payton, who told their respective -wives that Freddy ought to be shut up! "Allendale is the place for her," -Bob said, mentioning a well-known insane-asylum. They told their -brother-in-law that Laura ought to be ashamed of herself—which led to -an in-law coolness that never quite thawed out.</p> - -<p>"Of course I don't approve of it any more than you do," Howard said. "If -I'd been at home, Laura wouldn't have gone with Fred. Trouble is, she's -so sweet-tempered she does whatever anybody wants—and Fred insisted, -you know. And when Laura was there she felt she had to stand by Fred—"</p> - -<p>"Stand by your grandmother!" Payton Childs retorted. "If Fred was my -sister, I'd stand by her—with a whip!"</p> - -<p>"Well, there'll be no more speechifying in <i>ours</i>," Howard said, grimly. -"But I won't have Laura blamed. What<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> she did, she did out of loyalty to -Fred. When it comes to standing by, Laura is as decent as a man!"</p> - -<p>Miss Spencer was of the opinion that Mrs. Payton had better take the -girl to Europe—"under another name, perhaps; then she can't disgrace -you. After all, Ellen, I believe she's just like Mortimore—only she -doesn't jibber!"</p> - -<p>"<i>Miss Spencer!</i>"</p> - -<p>"I mean that though she has intellect, she—"</p> - -<p>"Morty has intellect! Doctor Davis always said the intellect was there, -but it was veiled!"</p> - -<p>"Fred had better veil something," Miss Spencer said, dryly. "Her face, -for instance, when she goes to jail."</p> - -<p>"It wasn't a jail," Mrs. Payton protested, whimperingly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Holmes had her opinion, too; all Fred's didos, she said, were due -to the fact that Mrs. Payton had not brought her up properly. She said -this just as she was leaving the parlor, teetering along on her -high-heeled shoes; then her voice suddenly roughened; she turned and -glared at her daughter through her white veil.</p> - -<p>"The amount of it is," she said, "Fred is worth all the rest of us put -together! <i>That's</i> why we are so provoked at her. We know we're on the -shelf, and useless old fools, every one of us! Especially William -Childs."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Payton was so astounded that she let her mother go out to her -carriage unattended. But the words were a comfort to her, for, poor -woman, she was struck from every side.</p> - -<p>As for Fred, she listened listlessly to the jangle of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span>criticism, -looking at her critics with curious eyes. How silly they all were! So -long as the experience of being arrested had not injured Laura, what -difference did it make? With her conception of the values of life, the -momentary unpleasantness of newspaper notoriety was not worth thinking -of. Fred was very listless now. Something had touched the garment of -life, and energy and hope had gone out of it.</p> - -<p>She ceased to be young.</p> - -<p>The rebuff of unaccepted love she had faced gallantly; its accompanying -knowledge of shame and pity and sympathy, had only steadied her; even -her own irrationality in disliking Laura (she had recognized with -chagrin that dislike was irrational, and she hated, she told herself, to -be an idiot!)—all these emotional experiences had merely deepened and -humanized her. But the discovery that the Howard Maitland she thought -she knew, had never lived, was a staggering blow. The other Howard—the -real Howard—honest, sweet-hearted, simple, who had found her -conversation no end amusing and interesting, who had been a patient -receptacle for her opinions and an amiable echo of her volubility, who -had swallowed many yawns out of kindness as well as courtesy—the Howard -beneath whose charm of good manners lurked the primitive fierceness of -the male who protects his woman at any cost, <i>that</i> Howard had never -made the slightest appeal to her. The jar of stepping down from the -ideal man to the real man racked her, body and soul. The old pain of not -being loved had ceased as suddenly as a pulled tooth ceases to ache. The -new pain was only a sense of nothingness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> But, curiously enough, it was -then that the old affection for Laura began to flow back. "Not that I -get much out of her," she thought, dully; "dear little Lolly! She hasn't -an idea beyond—him. She's a perfect slave to him. Well! I'm glad I'm a -free woman! But she's a dear little thing." The soreness had all gone; -she loved Lolly again—as one loves a kitten. She used to go to see her, -and look at the baby clothes, and speculate as to whether it would be a -girl or a boy. The softness, and silliness, and sweetness of it all was -to her tired mind what cushions are to a tired body.</p> - -<p>When the baby was born, early in September, the last barrier between the -cousins was swept away—but Fred still made a point of not going to -Laura's house at an hour when she was likely to find Howard at home. -Laura's husband was an entire stranger to her. When, by accident, she -did meet him, she used to say to herself, wonderingly, "How <i>could</i> -I—?"</p> - -<p class="space-above">All summer Frederica went regularly to her office. "But business isn't -what you'd call booming," she told Arthur Weston. In the blind fumbling -about of her stunned mind to discover a reality, he was the one person -to whom she turned. His calls at 15 Payton Street, whenever Fred was in -town, stirred even Mrs. Payton to speculation—although it was Miss -Carter who put the idea into her head:</p> - -<p>"He always comes when Miss Freddy is here; <i>I</i> think he's taken with -her."</p> - -<p>"I wish I could think so! There is nothing I should like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> better," said -Mrs. Payton, sighing. But the mere hope of such a thing roused her to -ask Mr. Weston to dinner whenever she knew that Fred was coming home for -the night. Miss Graham, getting wind of those dinners, gave him, one -day, a cousinly thrust in the ribs:</p> - -<p>"Tortoise! I do really believe you have some sense, after all!"</p> - -<p>"I have sense enough to know that the race is off for the tortoise, when -the hare decides not to run," he said, dryly; "but that's no reason why -I shouldn't dine with Mrs. Payton."</p> - -<p>Miss Eliza was spending the summer at The Laurels, and she had Freddy on -her mind. She went over to Lakeville to see her several times, and -always, with elaborate carelessness, said something in Arthur Weston's -favor. But she had to admit that Fred was blind to the pursuit of the -faithful tortoise.</p> - -<p>"I love the child," she told her sister; "but, I declare, I could spank -her! Just think what a husband dear Arthur would make!"</p> - -<p>"What kind of a wife would she make?" Miss Mary retorted. "I don't think -she would insure any man's happiness."</p> - -<p>"The pitiful thing about her is that she has aged so," said Miss Graham.</p> - -<p>That sense of lost youth touched her so much that she was quite out of -patience with dear Arthur. "Haven't you any heart?" she scolded. "The -girl is unhappy! Carry her off, and make her happy."</p> - -<p>"I'm too old to turn kidnapper," he defended himself.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p><p>"She is brooding over something," Miss Eliza said; "it <i>can't</i> be -because that foolish young man took her cousin when he could have got -her? She has too much backbone for that!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Weston agreed that Fred was not lacking backbone, but he could not -deny the brooding. So it came about that the dear old matchmaker was -moved, one day, to go to Sunrise Cottage and put her finger in the pie. -After she had drunk a cup of tea, and listened for half an hour to -Fred's ideas as to how Laura should bring up the baby, and the "slavery -of mothers"—"Lolly hasn't time to read a line!" Fred said;—Miss Eliza -suddenly touched her on the shoulder:</p> - -<p>"My dear," she said, "you've got to live, whether you like it or not. -Make the best of it!"</p> - -<p>Fred gave a gasp of astonishment; then she said, in a low voice, "How -did you know I didn't like living?"</p> - -<p>"Because when I didn't, I was just as careless about my back hair as you -are."</p> - -<p>Involuntarily Fred put her hand up to her head. "Is it untidy?"</p> - -<p>"It's indifferent. And when you think how fond Arthur is of you, it's -very selfish in you not to look as pretty as you can."</p> - -<p>She went away greatly pleased with herself. "It will touch her vanity to -think he likes her to look pretty; and when a girl tries to look pretty -for a man, the next step is to fall in love with him."</p> - -<p>Alas! Fred's vanity was not in the slightest degree flattered. But her -pride had felt the roweling of the spur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> of Truth. She must brace -up—because she had got to live! The words were like a trumpet. "I've -got to live—<i>whether I like it or not</i>. I must get action on -something," she told herself, grimly.</p> - -<p>That night she sat down on the little stool in front of her fire, and -stared a long time into the flames. Yes, she must get busy. "I've been a -pig. I've had a grouch on, just because I didn't get a stick of candy -when I wanted it—and wouldn't I have been sick of my candy by this -time, if I'd got it! How <i>can</i> Lolly stand him? What a fool I was."... -Yes, she must "get busy"; why not try and do something for those poor, -wretched women who are sent to the House of Detention? What she had seen -and heard in that stone-lined room had left a scar upon her mind. "I'll -make Arthur tell me how to get at them," she thought. Suddenly she -remembered Miss Eliza's thrust: "It's selfish in you—when he's so fond -of you."</p> - -<p>She gave a little start: "Oh, but that's impossible! That sort of thing -is over for him. But he's my best friend," she told herself.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> - -<p>It was late in September, when she asked Arthur Weston to tell her how -she could help "those awful women,"—as she called the poor creatures -she had seen in jail. He had motored out to Lakeville for a cup of tea, -and while they waited for the kettle to boil, they wandered off along -the shore of the lake, and found a little inlet walled with willows, -where they could sit on the beach and see nothing but the wrinkling -flash of waves and a serene stretch of sky. They sat there, talking -idly, and watching the willow leaves turn all their silvery backs to a -hesitating breeze.</p> - -<p>Weston listened silently to her plans for "getting busy" with prison -reform—when she suddenly broke off:</p> - -<p>"I don't see that the vote will do much."</p> - -<p>He gave her an astonished look. "What! This from <i>you</i>?"</p> - -<p>She nodded. "Of course I'm for suffrage, first, last, and all the time! -But I'm sort of discouraged about what we can accomplish. Life is so -big." The old cocksureness was gone. The pathos of common sense in -Freddy made him wince. "But I've got to do something," she ended. "Miss -Eliza told me I was selfish."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p><p>"Look here! I won't let Cousin Eliza call you names! I reserve that for -myself."</p> - -<p>She laughed. "You've done it, often enough."</p> - -<p>Arthur Weston tickled the sleeping Zip and whistled.</p> - -<p>"What do you suppose Laura told me the other day?" Fred said. "She said -that 'no woman really knew what life meant unless she had a baby.' She -said having a baby was like coming out of prison—because 'self' is a -prison. Rather tall talk for little Laura, wasn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Any of the great human experiences are keys to our prison-house," he -said.</p> - -<p>"True enough," she agreed; then, abruptly, her own great experience -spoke: "Isn't it queer? I rather dislike Howard."</p> - -<p>"It's unreasonable. He's the same old Howard—a mighty decent chap."</p> - -<p>"He's not—what I supposed he was."</p> - -<p>"Well, that's your fault, not his. You dressed him up in your ideas; -when he got into his own clothes, you didn't like him. Howard never -pretended to be anything he wasn't."</p> - -<p>"Yes! Yes, he did!" she said, with sudden agitation. "He used to—listen -to me."</p> - -<p>"Good heavens, don't hold that up against him! Don't I listen to you?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, but you never let me think you agree with me! I always know you -don't."</p> - -<p>"He agrees far more than I do."</p> - -<p>"No," she said, with a somber look. "He just let me talk. He didn't -care. The things that were real to me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> weren't real to him. His real -things were—what's happening now. The baby, and Laura. Is it so with -all of you? Don't you ever care with your <i>minds</i>?"</p> - -<p>He stopped tickling Zip, and looked out over the lake with narrowing -eyes; after a while he said, gently:</p> - -<p>"I think the caring with the mind comes second. When a man falls in -love, the mind has nothing to do with it. Sometimes it reinforces the -heart, so to speak; when that happens, you have the perfect -marriage—which isn't awfully common. It's apt to be just the heart; -which gets pretty dull after a while. But just the head is arid."</p> - -<p>"He would have found just my head,—arid?" she pondered.</p> - -<p>He looked straight at her, and said, quietly: "I think he would."</p> - -<p>There was a long pause.</p> - -<p>"Was it head, or heart, with you?" she said.</p> - -<p>"It's both," he said.</p> - -<p>She gave him a puzzled look: "Why, you don't mean that you care for that -horrid Kate, still?"</p> - -<p>He smiled, and looked off over the water.</p> - -<p>"You are very stupid, Fred."</p> - -<p>She was plainly perplexed. "I don't understand?"</p> - -<p>"That's why I say you are stupid."</p> - -<p>His face was turned away from her; he was breaking a dead twig into -inch-long pieces, and carefully arranging them in a precise fagot on his -knee; she saw, with a little shock of surprise, that his fingers were -trembling.</p> - -<p>"Why, Arthur!" she began,—and stopped short, the color rising slowly to -her forehead. He gave her a quick look.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p><p>"Why!" she said again, faintly, "you don't mean—? you're not—?"</p> - -<p>He laughed, opening his hands in a gesture of amused and hopeless -assent. "I am," he said, and flung the tiny fagot out on the water.</p> - -<p>Fred dropped her chin on her fists and watched the twigs dancing off -over the waves. They were both silent; then she said, frowning, and -pausing a little between her words as if trying to take in their full -meaning:—"You are in love with me."</p> - -<p>"Has it just struck you?"</p> - -<p>"How could it strike me—that you would care for a girl like me!"</p> - -<p>"Considering your intelligence, you are astonishingly obtuse, at times. -I couldn't care for any other kind of girl. Or for any girl, except -you!"</p> - -<p>"Miss Eliza said something that made me wonder if.... But I couldn't -believe it. I thought that sort of thing was over for you. I never -dreamed of—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, well! don't dream of it now. Of course it doesn't make a particle -of difference. I didn't mean to speak of it; it sort of broke loose," he -ended, in rueful confession.</p> - -<p>Fred was silent.</p> - -<p>Arthur Weston, hiding the tremor that was tingling all through him, -began to talk easily, of anything—Zip, the weather, whether Miss Carter -could be induced to reconsider her annual resignation; "It would be very -hard on Mrs. Payton to lose her," he said.</p> - -<p>"Well," Frederica said, slowly, "I don't see any reason why I shouldn't -marry you."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p><p>He caught his breath; then struck his hand on hers.</p> - -<p>"You're a good sport! I take back my accusation that you weren't. I -could name several reasons why you shouldn't marry me."</p> - -<p>"Name them."</p> - -<p>"Fred, look here; this is a serious business with me. I can't talk about -it."</p> - -<p>"I want to talk about it. I'd like to know your reasons."</p> - -<p>"To begin with—age."</p> - -<p>She nodded. "In years you are older. But I'm not young any more."</p> - -<p>The water stung in his eyes; she was right—she was not "young" now. -"The next reason," he went on, without looking at her, "is that you are -not in love with me."</p> - -<p>She thought that over: "But I am fond of you."</p> - -<p>"That won't do for marriage."</p> - -<p>"It's more than just fondness with you?" she asked, doubtfully.</p> - -<p>He caught her hand, kissed it, and flung it from him. "Come!" he said, -harshly, "let's go home!" He rose, but she did not move.</p> - -<p>"Do you <i>love</i> me?" she insisted, looking up at him.</p> - -<p>He was silent. When he spoke his voice was rough with suffering. "I love -you as much ... as I can. But it's not worth the taking. I know that. I -wouldn't ask you to take it. You ought to have—fire and gold! I spent -my gold ten years ago; and the fire burned itself out. Don't talk about -it. I feel like lead, sometimes, compared with you. But I'm not -adamant."</p> - -<p>She got on her feet, and stood looking out over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> lake. For a long -while neither of them spoke. Then she said: "Arthur, I'm not in love -with anybody else. I can't imagine, now, how I ever thought I was!"</p> - -<p>"You will be in love with somebody else one of these days."</p> - -<p>She shook her head. "No; that's all over. There is no fire and gold in -me, either. Something—was killed, I think."</p> - -<p>"It will come to life."</p> - -<p>She gave a little gasp: "No. It's dead. But what is left is—well, it -isn't bad, what's left. Sometimes," she said, with sudden sweet gaiety, -"sometimes I think it's better than what Howard and Laura have!"</p> - -<p>"No, it isn't," he said, sadly.</p> - -<p>"I wonder," she pondered, "if I could have been ... like Laura? She -hasn't a thought except for the baby and Howard. They are the center of -Life to her;—which is all right, I suppose. But they are its -circumference, too; which seems to me dreadfully cramping. I never could -be like that."</p> - -<p>He smiled, in spite of himself. "Nature is a pretty big thing, Fred; -when you hold your own child in your arms—" he stopped short. "Life is -bigger than theories," he said, in a low voice.</p> - -<p>She nodded: "I know what you mean. But I never could be a fool, Arthur."</p> - -<p>"I think," he said, and again something in his voice made her catch her -breath; "I <i>think</i> you could be,—at moments."</p> - -<p>"Better not count on it," she said; "but if you want<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> me, in spite of my -'arid' head,—you can take me! Of course, just for a minute, when I -wrung it from you that you—cared, I was rather stunned, because I -didn't believe Miss Eliza knew. But on the whole, I think—I'd like it." -She smiled at him, and her eyes brimmed with affection. "You see, we're -friends; and you never bore me. Howard would have bored me awfully. -So—I will marry you, Arthur."</p> - -<p>He was silent. "Rather hard," she said, mischievously, "to have to offer -myself tw—"</p> - -<p>"Stop!" he said; "don't say things like that!"</p> - -<p>"Well, then—" she began; but he lifted a silencing hand:</p> - -<p>"My dear, my dear, I love you too much to marry you."</p> - -<p>"Why, then," she said, simply, "you love me, it seems to me, enough to -marry me. Don't you see?"</p> - -<p>He looked at her with hungry eyes. "I think I am man enough to save you -from myself," he said; "but don't—don't tempt me too far!"...</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> - -<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> - -<p>That was in September. It was the first of December when Howard Maitland -came leaping up-stairs, two steps at a time, and burst into the nursery, -so chock-full of news that he could hardly wait to see the way Betty's -toes would grip your finger if you put it on the sole of her pink foot.</p> - -<p>"Who <i>do</i> you suppose is engaged?"</p> - -<p>"Jack McKnight," Laura said; "Howard, kiss her little neck, right under -her ear."</p> - -<p>He kissed it, and said, "No! Not McKnight. You wouldn't guess in a -hundred years!"</p> - -<p>"Well, then, you'd better tell me. See, Father, she's smiling! Howard, I -think she's really a very distinguished-looking baby; don't you?"</p> - -<p>"She looks like her ma, so of course she is!"</p> - -<p>"Nonsense! She's the image of you. What do you think? When I went down -to luncheon, Sarah says she turned her head right around to watch me go -out of the room."</p> - -<p>"Gosh! She'll be reading Browning next! Laura—why don't you rise about -the engagement? You'll scream when I tell you."</p> - -<p>"Well, tell me."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p><p>"Fred Payton and—"</p> - -<p>"What!"</p> - -<p>"Hold on. I've not begun to holler yet. <i>And</i>—old Weston."</p> - -<p>"<i>What!</i>"</p> - -<p>"I thought you'd sit up."</p> - -<p>"Howard! I don't believe it."</p> - -<p>"It's true. I met Mrs. Payton, and she told me. She kept me standing on -the corner for a quarter of an hour while she explained that she was -going to do up her Christmas presents now, so she could get the house in -order for the wedding. It's to be in January. The engagement comes out -to-morrow. It's been cooking since September, but they didn't really tie -up until last week. I'm pledged to secrecy, but your Aunt Nelly said I -could tell you."</p> - -<p>"I never was so astonished in my life!" Laura gasped.</p> - -<p>"I was—surprised, myself," Howard said.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Laura, "I'm glad poor old Fred is going to be married—but -how <i>can</i> she! Of course I know he's been gone on her for ages; but I -don't see how he dared to propose to her—he's old enough to be her -father! Maybe she took pity on him and proposed to him," Laura declared, -giggling.</p> - -<p>"The baby has a double chin," her husband said, hurriedly.</p> - -<p>"Fred converted him to suffrage last summer," Laura said; "that showed -which way the wind was blowing."</p> - -<p>Howard stopped tickling his daughter's neck, and frowned, as if trying -to remember something. "Weston<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> a suffragist? That's interesting! -Leighton—you remember?—the man who went to the Philippines with me?"</p> - -<p>Laura nodded abstractedly.</p> - -<p>"Well, he said that if a man was a suffragist it was because he was -either in the cradle or the grave. He said the man of affairs was bored -to extinction by the whole hullabaloo business. He considered me in the -cradle; so I suppose he'd say that Weston—"</p> - -<p>"Mr. Weston may be in the grave, but you're not in the cradle," Laura -interrupted, affronted; "you are the father of a family!"</p> - -<p>"Well, to be candid, I'm not crazy about suffrage," Howard confessed, -and was pummeled by his baby's fists, carefully directed by the maternal -hand.</p> - -<p>"I'm ashamed of you! Betty and I are going to walk in the parade, and -you shall carry a banner."</p> - -<p>"Thanks so much; I fear business will call me to Philadelphia that day. -Too bad!"</p> - -<p>"Freddy and Mr. Weston!" Laura repeated; "well, I <i>don't</i> understand -it!"</p> - -<p>"Neither do I," said her husband. He walked over to the window and stood -with his hands in his pockets, looking out into the rain; behind him he -heard the nursery door open, and Laura's contented voice:</p> - -<p>"No, Sarah, I don't need you. I'm going to put her to bed myself. You go -down and have your supper. Just put her little nightie on the fender -before you go, so it will be nice and warm." Then the door closed again, -and he could hear Laura mumbling in the baby's neck:</p> - -<p>"Sweety! Mother loves! Put little hanny into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> sleeve.... Oh, Howard, -look at her! Did you ever see anything so killing? Howard, just think! -Fred told me once that she was going to have a trained nurse for her -children. Well, she'll know better when she has 'em! -Ooo-oo—<i>sweety!</i>—don't pull mother's hair!" The firelit warmth, the -little night-gown scorching on the fender, Laura in the low chair, his -child's head on her breast—the young man, staring out into the rain and -darkness, felt something tighten in his throat. Life was so perfect! -There, behind him, by the hearth, in warm security, were his two -Treasures—to be cared for, and guarded, and made happy. He lived only -to stand between them and Fate. His very flesh and blood were theirs! "I -wouldn't let the wind blow on them!" he thought, fiercely. But Fred -Payton wouldn't let anybody stand between her and the gales of life. He -couldn't imagine Arthur Weston protecting Fred. Imagine any man trying -to take care of Fred! "She'd be taking care of him, the first thing he'd -know! Still, I take off my hat to her, every time. She's big."</p> - -<p>Down in the bottom of his heart was a queer uneasiness: he was not -"big," himself; "I am satisfied just to be happy; Fred wants something -more than that. She's more worth-while than I am," he thought, humbly. -He turned and looked at the two by the fire, then came over, and, -kneeling down, took his World into his arms.</p> - -<p>"Oh, <i>Laura</i>!" he said; he rested his head on his wife's shoulder, and -felt the baby's silky hair against his lips. "Laura, how perfect life -is! I'm so happy, I'm frightened!—and I don't deserve it. Fred Payton -is worth six of me."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p><p>Laura gave a little squeal. "As if any girl was as good as you! -Besides, poor, dear Freddy—nobody appreciates her more than I do, but -Howard, you know perfectly well that she is—I mean she isn't—I mean, -well, <i>you</i> know? Poor Fred, she's perfectly fine, but nobody except -somebody like Mr. Weston would want to marry her, because she is awfully -bossy. And a man doesn't like a bossy woman, now does he?"</p> - -<p>"You bet he doesn't!" Howard said. "But I take my hat off to Fred."</p> - -<p>"Oh, of course," said Laura.</p> - -<p class="space-above">"Thank God, she's got a man to keep her in order!" said Mr. William -Childs.</p> - -<p>"What shall we give her for a wedding-present?" Mrs. Childs ruminated.</p> - -<p>"Give Weston a switch!" said Billy-boy.</p> - -<p class="space-above">"I shall miss her terribly," said Mrs. Payton; "I don't know how I'm -going to get along without her." Her lip trembled and she looked at her -mother, who was running a furtive, white-gloved finger across Mr. Andrew -Payton's marble toga. "Oh, yes; it isn't dusted," Mrs. Payton sighed; -"you can't get servants to dust anything nowadays."</p> - -<p>"Fred will make 'em dust!" Mrs. Holmes said, with satisfaction. "All -Fred needs is to be married. Miss Eliza Graham told me that she had -gumption. I said <i>he</i> had gumption, to get her!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span></p><p>"I wonder if he knows about her affair with Laura's husband," Miss -Spencer ruminated. "Some one ought to tell him, just out of kindness." -(And the very next day an anonymous letter did tell him, for which he -was duly grateful.)</p> - -<p class="space-above">"I <i>hope</i> she will make you happy," Miss Mary Graham told her cousin, -sighing.</p> - -<p>"Well, Arthur will make her happy," Miss Eliza said, decidedly; "and -that's what he cares about! As for her making him happy, it will be his -own fault if she doesn't. She'll interest you, Arthur—that's what a man -like you wants."</p> - -<p>"I'm to be 'amused,' am I?" Arthur Weston said, grimly. "But suppose I -don't 'amuse' her?" And as the older sister went out to the door with -him to say good-by, he added: "Am I a thief? Of course, I've got the -best of the bargain."</p> - -<p>She did not contradict him. "I think," she said, her face full of pain -and pity, "that Fred has got the very best bargain that, being Fred, she -could possibly get."</p> - -<p>"No!" he said, "you're wrong! But pray God she never finds it out."</p> - -<p>He did not mean to let her find it out!</p> - -<p>But that afternoon when he went into No. 15 for his tea and for a chance -to look at Frederica, and tease her, and feel her frank arm over his -shoulder, he was very silent.</p> - -<p>They were in the sitting-room, Mrs. Payton having tactfully withdrawn to -the entry outside of Morty's room. "When I was a young lady," she told -Miss Carter, "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> used to receive Mr. Payton in the back parlor, and Mama -always sat in the front parlor. But Mama was very old-fashioned—<i>I</i> -believe in the new ideas! And then, after all, Mr. Weston is so much -older than Freddy—oh, dear me! What a blessing it was to have him fall -in love with her!"</p> - -<p>"Mother is going round," Fred told her lover, as she handed him his tea, -"saying, 'Now lettest thou thy servant ...!' She's so ecstatic over our -engagement."</p> - -<p>"I'm rather ecstatic myself," he said; "Fred—I am a highway robber."</p> - -<p>"Be still!" she said; and gave him another lump of sugar.</p> - -<p>"I love you," he said. "But you—no, it isn't fair; it isn't fair."</p> - -<p>She took his teacup from him and snuggled down beside him; "I'm -satisfied," she said.</p> - -<p>The sense of her content stabbed him. She ought to have so much more -than content. He had told her so often enough, in those two months of -standing out against his own heart; he told her so when, at last, he -yielded. But when he said it now, she would not listen. "I tell you, -<i>I'm</i> satisfied!" She dropped her head on his shoulder, and hummed a -little to herself.</p> - -<p>How was a man to break through such content!</p> - -<p>"But I <i>will</i>!" he told himself.</p> - -<p class="center space-above">THE END</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rising Tide, by Margaret Deland - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RISING TIDE *** - -***** This file should be named 54910-h.htm or 54910-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/9/1/54910/ - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -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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