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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-27 14:08:15 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-01-27 14:08:15 -0800 |
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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..ff85587 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60612 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60612) diff --git a/old/60612-0.txt b/old/60612-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8bbd06d..0000000 --- a/old/60612-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4111 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Maid in Arcady, by Ralph Henry Barbour - -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: A Maid in Arcady - -Author: Ralph Henry Barbour - -Illustrator: Frederic J. von Rapp - -Release Date: November 2, 2019 [EBook #60612] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MAID IN ARCADY *** - - - - -Produced by Donald Cummings 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.) - - - - - - - - - - A MAID IN ARCADY - - - - -[Illustration: “I SHALL WRITE AN ADVERTISEMENT MYSELF,” HE SAID.] - - - - -[Illustration: title page] - - - - - A MAID IN - ARCADY - - - BY - RALPH HENRY BARBOUR - - AUTHOR OF “KITTY OF THE ROSES” - “AN ORCHARD PRINCESS” - ETC. - - - _With Illustrations by_ - FREDERIC J. von RAPP - - - PHILADELPHIA & LONDON - J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY - 1906 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1906 - - BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY - - - Published, September, 1906 - - - _Electrotyped and Printed by - J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia, U. S. A._ - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - PAGE - - “I shall write an advertisement myself,” he said - _Frontispiece_ - - The stream sulked in a deep, pellucid pool 10 - - Who would have thought to find a Grecian goddess under - New England skies? 20 - - Slowly she raised her white arms 23 - - “I think I have explained matters, don’t you?” 52 - - “I hope you like my pool?” inquired a voice 61 - - She was throwing crumbs of bread to the swans 113 - - She went to him and placed her hands on his shoulders 139 - - “Will you?” he repeated 213 - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -A MAID IN ARCADY - - - - -I. - - -The clear water of the little river, in which the willows were mirrored -quiveringly, shallowed where a tiny bar of silver-white sand thrust the -ripples aside. Thus confined, the stream sulked for a moment in a deep, -pellucid pool, and then, with sudden rush and gurgle, swept through a -miniature narrows and swirled about the naked roots of the willows. - -[Illustration: THE STREAM SULKED IN A DEEP, PELLUCID POOL.] - -With a quick plunge of the paddle Ethan guided the canoe past the -threatening bar. A drooping branch swept his face caressingly as the -craft gained the quiet water beyond. Here, as though repentant of its -impatience, the river loitered and lapped about a massive granite -bowlder, tugging playfully at the swaying ferns and tossing scintillant -drops upon the velvety moss. To the left, the fringe of woodland which, -in friendly gossip, had followed the little river for a quarter of a -mile, parted where a second stream, scarcely more than a brook, flowed -placidly into the first. Reinforced, the river widened a little and -went slowly, musically on under the drooping branches, alternately -sun-splashed and shadowed, until it disappeared at a distant turn. But -the canoe did not follow. Instead it rocked lazily by the bowlder, -while the ripples broke gently against its smooth sides. - -To the bole of an old willow which dropped its leaves in autumn upon -the white sand-bar was nailed a weather-gray board, on which faded -letters stated: - - PRIVATE PROPERTY! - - NO TRESPASSING! - -[Illustration] - -Ethan observed the warning meditatively. In view of his later course of -action let us credit him with that hesitation. At length, with a faint -smile on his face, he turned the nose of the canoe toward the smaller -stream and his back to the sign. - -To have observed him one would scarcely have believed him capable of -deliberately committing the dire crime of trespass. There was something -about his good-looking face which bespoke honesty. At least, it would -have been difficult to credit him with underhand methods; it seemed -easier to believe that if he ever did commit a crime it would be in -such a superbly open and above-board fashion as to rob it of half its -iniquity. Not that there was anything of classical beauty about his -face. His eyes were a shade of brown, his nose was perhaps a trifle too -short to reach the standard of the Grecians, his mouth, unhidden by any -mustache, did not to any great extent suggest a Cupid’s bow. His chin -was aggressive. For the rest, he had the usual allowance of hair of a -not uncommon shade of brown, and showed, when he laughed which was by -no means infrequently――a set of very white and very capable looking -teeth. And yet I reiterate my former adjective; good-looking he was; -good-looking in a healthy, frank, happy and rather boyish way that was -eminently satisfying. - -If the sign on the old willow was right, and he really was trespassing, -I have no excuse to offer, or at least none that my conscience will -allow me to suggest. I can’t plead ignorance for him, for the simple -reason that he had seen the sign and read it and that he knew all about -trespass――or as much as was taught in the three-year course at the -Harvard Law School, which he had finished barely a fortnight ago. - -Meanwhile he has been sending the canoe quietly along the winding water -path, dipping the paddle with easy, rhythmic swings of his shoulders, -pushing the blade astern through the clear water and swinging it, -flashing and dripping, back for the next stroke. He had tossed his -light cloth cap into the bottom of the canoe and had laid his coat -over a thwart. The summer morning sunlight, slanting through the -branches, wove quickly vanishing patterns in gold upon his brown hair. -The tiny breeze, just a mere breath from the southwest, fragrant with -the odor of damp, sun-warmed soil and greenery, stirred the sheer white -shirt he wore and laid it in folds under the raised arm. - -The brook was rather shallow; everywhere the pebbled bottom was -visible. It was a whimsical brook, full of sudden turns and twistings; -rounding tiny promontories of alder and sheepberry, dipping into quiet -bays where bush honeysuckles were dripping sweetness from their pale -yellow funnels, skirting curving beaches of white sand where standing -armies of purple flags held themselves stiffly at attention and -restrained the invasion of the eager, swaying fern-rabble. - -[Illustration] - -He had gone several hundred yards by this time against the slow -current, and now there was evident a change in the foliage lining -the banks, even in the banks themselves. Artifice had aided nature. -Pink and white and yellow lilies dotted the stream, while at a little -distance a slender, graceful stone bridge arched from shore to shore. -Woodbine clustered about it and threw cool, trembling leaf-shadows -against the sunlit stones. The arch framed a charming vista of the -brook beyond. The canoe slipped noiselessly under the bridge and the -strip of shadow rested gratefully for an instant on Ethan’s face. On -the left there was a momentary break in the foliage and a brief glimpse -of a wide expanse of velvety turf. Then another turn, the canoe -brushing aside the broad lily-pads, and the end of the journey had -come, and, sitting with motionless paddle, he gazed spellbound. - -[Illustration] - - - - -II. - - -The banks of the stream fell suddenly away on either side and the -canoe glided slowly and softly into a miniature lake. It was perhaps -twenty yards across at its widest place and much more than that in -length. Occasionally a far-reaching branch threw trembling shadows on -the water, but for the most part the trees stood back from the margin -of the pool and allowed the fresh green turf to descend unhampered to -the water’s edge. At a point farthest from where Ethan had entered -a little cascade tumbled. On all sides the ground sloped slightly -upward, and in one place a group of larches crowned the summit of a -knoll and mingled their delicate branches far above the neighboring -maples. Almost concealed among them an uncertain gleam of white caught -at moments through the trees to the right suggested a building of -some sort――perhaps the marble temple of the divinity, who, seated on -the bank with her bare sandaled feet crossed before her, observed the -intruder with calm, dreamy, almost smiling unconcern. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -It was a beautiful scene into which Ethan had floated. Overhead was -a blue sky against which a few soft white clouds hung seemingly -motionless as though, like Narcissus, they had become enamored of their -reflections in the pool there below. On a tiny islet in the pool, -dwarf willows caressed the water with the tips of their pendulous -branches. Further on a trio of white swans sunned themselves, and -about the margin the bosom of the pool was carpeted with lily-pads and -starred with a multitude of fragrant blooms, white, rose-hued, carmine, -pale violet, sulphur-colored and blue. The gauze wings of darting -dragon-flies caught the sunlight, insects hovered above the flower-cups -and in the branches around many a feathered cantatrice was singing her -heart out. And for background there was always the varied green of -encircling trees. - -Yes, it was very beautiful, but Ethan had no eyes for it. With paddle -still suspended between gunwale and water he was staring in a fashion -at once depicting surprise, curiosity, and admiration at the figure on -the grass. And what wonder? Who would have thought to find a Grecian -goddess under New England skies? Ethan’s thoughts leaped back to -mythology and he sought a name for her. Diana? Minerva? Venus? Iris? -Penelope? - -And all the while――a very little while despite the telling――his eyes -ranged from the sandaled feet to the warm brown hair with its golden -fillet. A single garment of gleaming white reached from the feet to -the shoulders where it was caught together on either side with a metal -clasp. The arms were bare, youthfully slender, aglow in the sunlight. -And yet it was to the eyes that his gaze returned each time. “Minerva!” -his thoughts triumphed, “‘Minerva, goddess azure-eyed!’” And yet in the -next instant he knew that while her eyes were undeniably blue she -was no wise Minerva. Such youthful softness belonged rather to Iris or -Daphne or Syrinx. - -[Illustration: WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT TO FIND A GRECIAN GODDESS UNDER -NEW ENGLAND SKIES?] - -And all the while――just the little time it took for the canoe to -glide from the stream well into the pool――she had been regarding -him tranquilly with her deep blue eyes, her bare arms, stretching -downward to the grass, supporting her in an attitude suggesting recent -recumbency. And now, as the craft brushed the lily-pads aside, she -spoke. - -[Illustration] - -“Do you not fear the resentment of the gods?” she asked gravely. “It is -not wise for a mortal to look upon us.” - -“I crave your mercy, O fair goddess,” he answered. “Blame rather this -tiny argosy of mine which, propelled by hands invisible, has brought me -hither. I doubt not that the gods hold me in enchantment.” He mentally -patted himself on the back; it wasn’t so bad for an impromptu! - -She leaned forward and sunk her chin in the cup of one small hand, -viewing him intently as though pondering his words. - -“It may be so,” she answered presently. “What call you your frail -vessel?” - -“From this hour, Good Fortune.” Her gaze dropped. - -“Will you deign to tell me your name, O radiant goddess?” he continued. -She raised her eyes again and he thought a little smile played for a -moment over her red lips. - -“I am Clytie,” she answered, “a water-nymph. I dwell in this pool. And -you, how are you called?” - -He answered readily and gravely: “I am Vertumnus, clad thus in -mortal guise that I may gain the presence of Pomona. Long have I wooed -her, O Nymph of the Pool.” - -“I too love unrequited,” she answered sadly. “Apollo has my heart. -Though day by day I watch him drive his fiery chariot across the -heavens he sees me not.” - -She arose and turned her face upward to the sun. Slowly she raised her -white arms and stretched them forth in tragic appeal. - -[Illustration: SLOWLY SHE RAISED HER WHITE ARMS.] - -“Apollo!” she cried. “Apollo! Hear me! Clytie calls to you!” - -Such a passion of melancholy longing spoke in her voice that Ethan -thrilled in spite of himself. Unconsciously his gaze followed hers -to the blazing orb. The light dazzled his eyes and blinded him for a -moment. When he looked again toward the bank it was empty, but between -the trees, along the slope, a white garment fluttered and was lost to -sight. - -[Illustration] - -“Clytie!” he called in sudden dismay. And again. - -“Clytie!” - -A wood-thrush in a nearby tree burst into golden melody. But Clytie -answered not. - - - - -III. - - -The Roadside Inn at Riverdell sprawls its white length along the old -post-road over which many years ago the coaches swayed and rattled -between New York and Boston. The Roadside, known in those days as -Peppit’s Tavern, has changed but little. The front room over the porch, -has held notable guests: Washington, Hancock, Adams, Lafayette and many -more. On the tap-room windows you may still find the diamond-etched -initials of by-gone celebrities. And much of the old-time atmosphere -remains. - -[Illustration] - -The room into which Ethan had his bag taken after his return from his -adventure in Arcady was low-ceilinged and dim. The two small windows, -one overlooking the dilapidated orchard at the rear and the little -river beyond, the other revealing the murmuring depths of a big elm, -afforded little light. The floor was delightfully uneven; Ethan went -downhill to the washstand and uphill again to the old mahogany bureau. -The wide fire-place held a pair of antique andirons coveted by many -a visitor, and the narrow shelf above was adorned with an equally -desirable brass candlestick and a couple of opaque white glass vases -which, ancient as they were, post-dated the shelf itself by half a -hundred years. The bedstead, of mahogany, with rolling footboard, had -made concessions to modernity. The pegs along the side, from which -ropes had once been stretched, remained, but an up-to-date wire spring -and hair mattress had superseded the olden furnishings. - -[Illustration] - -Ethan lighted a cigarette, unstrapped his bag and took out a leathern -portfolio. With this on his knee, he sat at one of the open windows and -scrawled a note. - -[Illustration] - - “Dear Vin, I am sending my man Farrell on to you with the - machine with orders to place it at your disposal. Make what use - you can of it. I think it is all right now, though it went back - on us this morning about two miles north of here. Funny place - for it to bust, wasn’t it; looks as though it meant me to pay - a visit here, eh? Well, I’m humoring it. I’ve decided to stay - here for a day or two at the Roadside. I want to brush up a bit - on mythology. Very interesting subject, mythology, Vin. Just - when I’ll follow the machine I can’t say yet; possibly in a - day or two. Make my excuses to your mother and sisters; invent - any old story you like. You might say, for instance, that - Vertumnus, fickle god, has transferred his affections from - Pomona to a water-nymph. But you needn’t if you’d rather not. I - don’t care what you say. Expect me when you see me. - - “Yours, - - “ETHAN.” - -With a smile as he thought of his friend’s perplexity on reading the -note, Ethan folded it and tucked it into an envelope. Then addressing -it to “Mr. Vincent Graves, The Boulders, Stillhaven, Mass.,” he sealed -it, dropped it into his pocket and made his way downstairs to dinner. - -After dinner a big blue touring-car chugged its way southward along the -shaded road, with Farrell at the wheel and Ethan’s note in Farrell’s -pocket. Ethan watched it disappear. Then, drawing a chair to the edge -of the porch, he set himself in it, put his heels on the railing, -stuffed his hands into his pockets and asked himself with a puzzled -smile why he had done it. - - - - - -IV. - - -The grass grew tall and lush under the gnarled old apple-trees back -of the Inn, and the straggling footpath which led to the landing was -a path only in name. By the time he had gained the river Ethan’s -immaculate white shoes were slate-colored with dew. The canoe rested -on two poles laid from crotches of the apple trees, which overhung the -stream. Ethan lifted it down and dropped it into the water. With paddle -in hand he stepped in and pushed off down-stream. - -[Illustration] - -On his left the orchard and garden of the Inn marched with him for a -way, giving place at length to a neck of woodland. On his right, seen -between the twisted willows, stretched a pleasant view of meadows and -tilled fields in the foreground, and, beyond, the gently rising hills, -wooded save where along the base the encroaching grasslands rose and -dipped. A couple of sleepy-looking farmhouses were nestled in the -middle-distance and the faint _whir-r-r_ of a mowing machine floated -across the meadows. In the high grass daisies were sprinkled as thickly -as stars in the Milky Way, and buttercups thrust their tiny golden -bowls above the pendulous plumes of the timothy, foxtail, and fescue. -The blue-eyed grass, too, was all abloom, like miniatures of the blue -flags which congregated wherever the spring floods had inundated the -meadows. - -The sand-bar came in sight and the little river began to fuss and -fret as it gathered itself for what it doubtless believed to be an -awe-inspiring rush. The canoe bobbed gracefully through the rapids and -swung about in the pool below. Ethan winked soberly at the sign on the -willow tree and dipped his paddle again. The canoe breasted the lazy -current of the brook. - -[Illustration] - -It was just such a day as yesterday. The little breeze stirred the -rushes along the banks and brought odors of honeysuckle. Fleecy white -clouds seemed to float on the unshadowed stretches of the stream. On -one side a sudden blur of deep pink marked where a wild azalea was -ablossom. Again, a glimpse of white showed a viburnum sprinkling the -ground with its tiny blooms. Cinnamon ferns were pushing their pale -bronze “fiddle-heads” into the air. Now and then a wood lily displayed -a tardy blossom. Near the stone bridge a kingfisher darted downward to -the brook, broke its surface into silver spray and arose on heavy wing. - -Once past the bridge and with only a single winding of the brook -between him and the lotus pool, Ethan trailed his paddle for a moment -while he asked himself whether he really expected to find the girl -waiting for him. Of course he didn’t, only――well, there was just -a chance――――! Nonsense; there was not the ghost of a chance! Oh, -very well; at least there was no harm in his paddling to the lotus -pool――barring that he was trespassing! He smiled at that. He smiled at -it several times, for some reason or other. Then he dipped his paddle -again and sent the “Good Fortune” gliding swiftly over the sunlit -water of the pond. And when he looked there she was, seated on the -bank, just as――and he realized it now――he had expected all along that -she would be! - -[Illustration] - -But it was not Clytie he saw; not unless the fashions have changed -considerably and water-nymphs may wear with perfect propriety white -shirtwaist suits and tan shoes. It was not impossible, he reasoned; -for all he knew to the contrary, the July number of the Goddesses’ -Home Journal――doubtless edited by Minerva――might prescribe just -such garments for informal morning wear. At all events, being less -_bizarre_ than the flowing peplum of yesterday, Ethan――whose tastes -in attire were quite orthodox――liked it far better. The effect was -quite different, too. Yesterday she might have been Clytie; to-day -reason cried out against any such possibility; she was a very -modern-appearing and extremely charming young lady of, apparently, -twenty or twenty-one years of age, with a face, at present seen -in profile, piquant rather than beautiful. The nose was small and -delicate, the mouth, under a short lip, had the least bit of a pout -and the chin was softly round and sensitive. This morning she wore her -hair in a pompadour, while at the back the thick braids started low on -her neck and coiled around and around in a perfectly delightful and -absolutely puzzling fashion. Ethan liked her hair immensely. It was -light brown, with coppery tones where the sunlight became entangled. -She was seated on the sloping bank, her hands clasped about her knees -and her gaze turned dreamily toward the cascade which sparkled and -tinkled at the upper curve of the pool. As the canoe had made almost -no sound in its approach, she was, of course, ignorant of Ethan’s -presence. And yet it may be mentioned as an interesting if unimportant -fact that as he gazed at her for the space of half a minute a rosy -tinge, all unobserved of him, crept into her cheeks. He laid his paddle -softly across the canoe, and,―――― - -“Greetings, O Clytie!” he said. - -She turned to him startledly. A little smile quivered about her lips. - -“Good morning, Vertumnus,” she answered. Perhaps his gaze showed a -trifle too much interest, for after a brief instant hers stole away. He -picked up the paddle and moved the canoe closer to the shore. - -“I’m very glad to find you have not yet taken root,” he said gravely. - -“Taken root?” she echoed vaguely. - -“Yes, for that was your fate at the last, wasn’t it? If I am not -mistaken you sat for days on the ground, subsisting on your tears and -watching the sun cross the heavens, until at last your limbs became -rooted to the ground and you just naturally turned into a sunflower. At -least, that’s the way I recollect it.” - -“Oh, but you shouldn’t tell me what my fate is to be,” she answered -smilingly. - -“Forearmed is forewarned; no, I mean the other way around!” he replied. -“Maybe if you just keep your feet moving you’ll escape that fate. It -would be awfully uncomfortable, I should say! Besides, pardon me if it -sounds rude, sunflowers are such unattractive things, don’t you think -so?” - -[Illustration] - -“Yes, I’m afraid they are. The fate of Daphne or Lotis or Syrinx would -be much nicer.” - -“What happened to them, please?” - -“Why, Daphne was changed to a laurel; have you forgotten?” - -“No, but how about the other ladies?” - -“Lotis became a lotus and Syrinx a clump of reeds. Pan gathered some -and made himself pipes to play on. - - “‘Poor nymph!――Poor Pan!――how he did weep to find - Naught but a lovely sighing of the wind - Along the reedy stream; a half-heard strain - Full of sweet desolation――balmy pain.’” - -“Shelley, for a dollar,” he said questioningly. - -She shook her head smilingly. “Keats,” she corrected. - -“Oh, I have a way of getting them mixed, those two chaps.” He paused. -“Do you know, it sounds odd nowadays to hear anyone quote poetry?” - -“I suppose it does; I dare say it sounds very silly.” - -“Not a bit of it! I like it! I wish I could do it myself. All I know, -though, is - - “‘The Lady Jane was tall and slim, - The Lady Jane was fair, - And Sir Thomas, my lord, was stout of limb, - But his breath was short, and――――’ - -and so on. I used to recite that at school when I was a youngster; -knew it all through; and I think there were five or six pages of it. -I was quite proud of that, and used to stand on the platform Saturday -mornings and just gallop it off. I think the humor appealed to me.” - -“It must have been delightful!” she laughed. “But you haven’t got even -that quite right!” - -“Haven’t I? I dare say.” - -“No, Sir Thomas was _her_ lord, not _my_ lord, and it was his cough -that was short instead of his breath.” - -“Shows that my memory is failing at last,” he answered. “But, tell me, -do you know every piece of poetry ever written?” - -“No, not so many. I happen to remember that, though. Besides, we -dwellers on Olympus hold poetry in rather more respect than you -mortals.” - -“You forget that I am Vertumnus,” he answered haughtily. - -“Of course! And you puzzled me with that yesterday, too. I had to go -home and hunt up a dictionary of mythology to see who Vertumnus was.” - -“I――I trust you found him fairly respectable?” he asked. “To tell the -truth, I don’t recollect very much about him myself; and some of those -old chaps were――well, a bit rapid.” - -“Vertumnus was quite respectable,” she replied. “In fact, he was quite -a dear, the way he slaved to win Pomona. I never cared very much about -Pomona,” she added frankly. - -“I――I never knew her very well,” he answered carelessly. - -“I think she was a stick.” - -“You forget,” he said gently, “that you are speaking of the lady of my -affections.” - -“Oh, I am so sorry!” she cried contritely. “Please forgive me!” - -“If you will let me smoke a cigarette.” - -“Why not? Considering that I am on shore and you on the water it hardly -seems necessary――――” - -“Well, of course it’s your own private pool,” he said. “I thought -perhaps nymphs objected to the odor of cigarette-smoke around their -habitations.” - -“This nymph doesn’t mind it,” she answered. - -He selected a cigarette from his case very leisurely. He had had -several opportunities to see her eyes and was wondering whether they -were really the color they seemed to be. He had thought yesterday -that they were blue, like the sky, or a Yale flag or――or the ocean in -October; in short just _blue_. But to-day, seen from a distance of some -fifteen feet, and examined carefully, they appeared quite a different -hue, a――a violet, or――or mauve. He wasn’t sure just what mauve was, -but he thought it might be the color of her eyes. At all events, they -weren’t merely blue; they were something quite different, far more -wonderful, and infinitely more beautiful. He would look again just as -soon as he had the cigarette lighted, and―――― - -“Were you surprised to find me here this morning?” she asked suddenly. -There was no hint of coquetry in her tone and he stifled the first -reply occurring to him. - -“I――no, I wasn’t――for some reason,” he answered honestly. “I dare say I -ought to have been.” - -“I came on purpose to meet you,” she said calmly. - -“Er――thank you――that is――――!” - -“I wanted to explain about yesterday. You see I didn’t want you to -think I was just simply insane. There was――method in my madness.” - -[Illustration] - -“But I didn’t think you insane,” he denied, depositing the burnt -match carefully on a lily-pad and raising his gaze to hers. “I -thought――that――――” - -“Yes, go on,” she prompted. “Tell me what you did think when you found -me here in that――that _thing_!” - -“I thought I was in Arcadia and that you were just what you said you -were, a water-nymph.” - -“Oh,” she murmured disappointedly; “I thought you were really going to -tell me the truth.” - -“I will, then. Frankly, I didn’t know what to think. You said you were -Clytie, and far be it from me to question a lady’s word. I was stumped. -I tried to work it out yesterday afternoon and couldn’t, and so I came -back to-day in the hope that I might have the good fortune to see you -again.” - -“It was rather silly,” she answered. “And I ought to have run away -when I saw your canoe coming. But it was so unexpected and sudden, -and I was bored and――and I wondered what you would look like when I -told you I was a water-nymph!” She laughed softly. “Only,” she went -on in a moment, with grievance in her tones, “you didn’t look at all -surprised! I might just as well have said ‘I am Mary Smith’ or――or -‘Laura Devereux!’” - -(“Aha!” quoth Ethan to himself, “I am learning.”) - -“You were very disappointing,” she concluded severely. - -“I am sorry, really. I realize now that I should have displayed -astonishment and awe. Perhaps if you had said you were Laura――Laura -Devereux, was it?――I would have really shown some emotion.” - -“Why?” she questioned. - -“Well, don’t you think――Laura, now, is――I’m afraid I can’t just -explain.” He was watching her intently. She was studying her clasped -hands. “I suppose what I meant was that Laura is such an attractive -name, so――so musical, so melodious! And then coupled with Devereux it -is even――even――er――more so!” - -“Is it?” She didn’t look at him and her tone was almost icy. - -(“I fancy that’ll hold you for awhile,” he said to himself. “My boy, -you’re inclined to be a little too fresh; cut it out!”) - -“I never thought Laura especially melodious,” she said. - -“Perhaps you are prejudiced,” he suggested amiably. - -“Why should I be?” she asked, observing him calmly. He hesitated and -paid much attention to his cigarette. - -“Oh, no reason at all, I suppose,” he answered finally. He looked up -in time to surprise a little mocking smile in her eyes. Nonsense! He’d -show her that she couldn’t bluff him down like that! “To be honest,” he -continued, “what I meant was that some folks take a dislike to their -own names; in which case they are scarcely impartial judges.” He looked -across at her challengingly. She returned the look serenely. - -“So you think that is my name?” she asked. - -“Isn’t it?” - -“I don’t see why you should think so,” she parried. “I might have found -it in a novel. I’m sure it sounds like a name out of a novel.” - -“But you haven’t denied it,” he insisted. - -“I don’t intend to,” she replied, the little tantalizing smile -quivering again at the corners of her mouth. “Besides, I have already -told you that my name is Clytie.” - -He tossed the remains of his cigarette toward where one of the swans -was paddling about. The long neck writhed snake-like and the bill -disappeared under the water. Then with an insulted air and an angry bob -of the tail, the swan turned her back on Ethan and sailed hurriedly -back to her family. - -“I understand,” he said. “I will try not to forget hereafter that this -is Arcadia, that you are Clytie and that I am Vertumnus.” - -“Thank you, Vertumnus,” she said. “And now I must tell you what I came -here to tell. You must know, sir, that I am not in the habit of sitting -around on the grass in broad daylight dressed――as I was yesterday. If -I did I should probably catch cold. Yesterday morning we――a friend and -I――dressed up in costume and took each other’s pictures up there under -the trees. Afterwards the fancy took me to come down here and――and -‘make believe.’ And then you popped on to the scene all of a sudden.” - -[Illustration] - -“I see. Very rude of me, I’m sure. Of course, as we are in Arcady, and -you are a nymph and I a――a god, I don’t understand at all what you are -talking about; but I _would_ like to see those pictures!” - -“I’m afraid you never will,” she laughed. - -“I’m not so sure,” he said thoughtfully. “Strange things happen -in――Arcady.” - -“Weren’t you the least bit surprised when you saw me? And when -I――acted so silly?” - -“I certainly was! Really, for a while――especially after you had gone――I -was half inclined to think that I had been dreaming. You did it rather -well, you know,” he added admiringly. - -“Did I?” She seemed pleased. “Didn’t it sound terribly foolish when I -spouted that about Apollo?” - -“Not a bit! I――I half expected the sun to do something when you raised -your hands to it; I don’t know just what; wink, perhaps, or have an -eclipse.” - -“You’re making fun of me!” she said dolefully. - -“But I am not, truly! However, I don’t think you treated your audience -very nicely. To get me sun-blind and then steal away wasn’t kind. When -I looked around you had simply disappeared, as though by magic, and -I――” he shivered uncomfortably――“I felt a bit funny for a moment.” - -“Really?” She positively beamed on him, and Ethan felt a sudden warmth -at his heart. “I suppose every person has a sneaking desire to act,” -she went on. “I know I have. Ever since I was a little girl I’ve loved -to――to ‘make believe.’ That’s why I did it yesterday.” - -“Have you ever considered a stage career?” he asked gravely. She leaned -her chin in one small palm and observed him doubtfully. - -“I never seem to know for certain,” she complained, “whether you are -making fun of me or not. And I don’t like to be made fun of――especially -by――――” - -“Strangers? I don’t blame you, Miss――Clytie. I wouldn’t like it -myself.” - -She continued to study him perplexedly, a little frown above her -somewhat impertinent nose. Ethan smiled composedly back. He enjoyed it -immensely. The sunlight made strange little golden blurs in her eyes. -They were very beautiful eyes; he realized it thoroughly; and he didn’t -care how long she allowed him to look into them like this. Only, well, -it was a bit disquieting to a chap. He could imagine that invisible -wires led from those violet orbs of hers straight down to his heart. -Otherwise how account for the tingling glow that was pervading the -latter? Not that it was unpleasant; on the contrary―――― - -“I beg your pardon?” he stammered. - -“I merely said that I had no idea of the stage,” she replied distantly, -dropping her gaze. - -“Oh!” He paused. It took him a moment to get the sense of what she had -said through his brain. Plainly, Arcadian air possessed a quality not -contained in ordinary ether, and its effect was strangely deranging -to the senses. “Oh!” he repeated presently, “I am glad you haven’t. I -shouldn’t want you to――er――――” - -But that didn’t appear to be just the right thing to say, judging from -the sudden expression of reserve which settled over her countenance. -Ethan shook himself awake. - -“It is time for me to go,” she said, getting to her feet. Ethan made an -absurdly futile motion toward assisting her. “I think I have explained -matters, don’t you?” - -[Illustration: “I THINK I HAVE EXPLAINED MATTERS, DON’T YOU?”] - -“You have explained,” he answered judicially, “but there is much -more that would bear, that even demands elucidation.” - -“I don’t see that there is,” she replied a trifle coldly. - -“Oh, of course, if you prefer to have me place my own interpretation -on――things――――!” - -“What things?” she demanded curiously. - -“What things?” he repeated vaguely. “Oh, why――er――lots,” he ended -lamely. - -She turned her back. - -“Good morning,” she said. - -He took a desperate resolve. - -“Good morning. Now that I know who you are――――” - -“You don’t know who I am!” she retorted, facing him defiantly. - -“Pardon me, but――――” - -“I didn’t say my name was――that!” - -“And I know more besides,” he added mysteriously. - -“You don’t!” - -“Oh, very well.” He smiled superiorly. - -“How could you?” - -“You forget that we gods have powers of――――” - -“Oh! Well, tell me, then.” - -“Not to-day,” he answered gently. “To-morrow, perhaps.” - -He raised his paddle and turned the canoe about. - -“But you will not see me to-morrow,” she said, stifling the smile that -threatened to mar her severity. - -“You are not thinking of leaving Arcady?” he asked in surprise. “Where, -pray, could you find a more delightful pool than this? Observe those -swans! Observe the lilies! Besides, even in Arcady one doesn’t move so -late in the season.” - -[Illustration] - -She regarded him for a moment with intense gravity. Then, - -“You really think so?” she asked musingly. - -“I really do.” - -He waited, wondering at himself for caring so much about her decision. -At last, - -“Perhaps you are right,” she said. “Good morning.” - -“And I, shall see you to-morrow?” he cried eagerly. - -She turned under the first tree. The green shadows played over her hair -and dappled her white gown with tremulous silhouettes. - -“That,” she laughed softly, tantalizingly, “is in the hands of the -gods.” - -Her dress showed here and there through the trees for a moment and -then was lost to sight. Ethan heaved a sigh. Then he smiled. Then he -seized the paddle and shot the canoe toward the outlet. - -[Illustration] - -“Well,” he muttered, “I know how this god will vote!” - - - - -V. - - -Ethan laid aside his paddle and mopped his face with his handkerchief. -The canoe, left to its own devices, poked its nose against the meadow -bank and allowed its stern to float slowly around in the languid -current. He gazed across the fields over which the heat-waves danced -and shimmered and addressed himself to his cigarette case. - -[Illustration] - -“Providence,” he said, “showed great wisdom when it arranged that the -Pilgrims should land on the coast of Massachusetts. ‘From what I’ve -seen of these folks and what I’ve heard about them,’ says Providence, -‘I don’t believe they’re going to be much of an acquisition to the -New World. But I’ll give ’em a fair show. I’ll see that they land -at Plymouth and if they can survive a Massachusetts winter _and_ a -Massachusetts summer I’ll have nothing more to say. Those of them alive -a year from now will be entitled to prizes in the Endurance Test and -will have qualified to become Hardy Pioneers and build up the country.’” - -He mopped his face again, lighted a cigarette and took up his paddle. - -“One would think that this state might show moderation at some season -of the year,” he added disgustedly. “But not content with her Old -Fashioned Winters, Backward Springs and Early Falls she has to try and -wrest the Hot Weather blue ribbon from Arizona! No wonder they say a -Bostonian isn’t contented in Heaven; doubtless he finds the weather -frightfully equable and monotonous!” - -He righted the canoe and went on, with a glance at the sky above the -hills. - -“We’re probably in for a jolly good thunder-storm this afternoon,” he -muttered. - -[Illustration] - -By the time he had reached the entrance to the brook his forehead was -again beaded with perspiration and his thin negligée shirt showed a -disposition to cling to his shoulders. It was one of those intensely -hot and exceedingly humid days which the early summer so often visits -upon New England. Even the birds seemed to feel the heat and instead of -singing and darting about across the shadowed stream were content to -flutter and chirp drowsily amidst the branches. The hum of the insects -held a lethargic tone that somehow, like a locust’s clatter in August, -seemed to increase the heat. Ethan went slowly up the winding stream -with divided opinions on the subject of his own sanity. To sit in a -canoe in the broiling sun on a morning like this merely to talk to a -girl was rank idiocy, he told himself. Then he recalled her eyes, her -tantalizing little laugh, the soft tones of her voice, the provocative -ghost of a smile that so often trembled about her red lips, and owned -that she was worth it. After he had slipped under the stone footbridge -it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps the girl would object quite -as strongly as he to making a martyr of herself in the interests of -polite conversation! Perhaps she wouldn’t come at all! In which case -he would have had his journey for naught――and possibly a sunstroke -thrown in! The more he considered that possibility the more reasonable -it became, until, when he had shot the canoe into the little pond, and -saw that the bank was empty of aught save a pair of the swans who were -stretching their wings in the sunlight, he was not surprised. - -“She certainly has more sense than I have,” he muttered. - -Not a breath of air stirred the leaves of the encircling fringe of -trees. The little lake was like an artist’s palette set with all the -tender greens and pinks and whites and yellows of summer. - -“I hope you like my pool?” inquired a voice. - -[Illustration: “I HOPE YOU LIKE MY POOL?” INQUIRED A VOICE.] - -Ethan turned from his survey of the scene and saw that the girl was -standing under the shade of a willow a little distance up the slope. -She was all in white, as yesterday, but a broad-brimmed hat of soft -white straw hid her hair and threw a shadow over her face. Ethan raised -his own less picturesque panama and bowed. - -“It’s looking fine to-day, I think,” he answered. “Perhaps just a -little bit ornate, though. There’s such a thing as over-decorating even -a lotus pool.” - -He turned the bow of the canoe toward the bank, swung it skilfully -and stepped ashore. The girl watched him silently. When he had pulled -the nose of the craft onto the grass and dropped his paddle he walked -toward her. A little flush crept into her cheeks, but her eyes met his -calmly. - -“This is all dreadfully wrong, you know,” she said gravely. He stopped -a few feet away and fanned himself with his hat. - -“Yes, very warm, isn’t it?” he agreed affably. - -“In the first place,” she went on severely, “you are trespassing.” - -“I beg your pardon?” he asked as though he had not comprehended. - -“I said you are trespassing.” - -“Oh! Yes, of course. Well, really, you couldn’t expect me to sit out -there in that hot sun, could you now? I――I have a rather delicate -constitution.” - -“But you were trespassing before! Coming up here only makes it worse.” - -“Better, I call it,” he answered, turning to look back unregretfully at -the pool. - -“And then――then it is equally wrong for me to stay here and talk to -you.” - -“Oh come now!” he objected. “Nymphs in my day were not so conventional!” - -“So I shall leave you,” she continued, unheeding and turning away. - -“Then I shall go with you.” - -“You wouldn’t dare!” she cried. - -“Why not? Really, Miss Clytie, I am fairly respectable and I know of -no reason why you shouldn’t be seen in my company. I have never done -murder and never stolen less than a million dollars at a time. To be -sure, I hope to become a practising attorney in the course of a year or -so, but as yet my honor is unsullied.” - -She hesitated, her eyes turned in the direction of the house. - -“Besides,” he added hastily, “I was going to tell you what I know about -you.” - -“Then,” she answered reluctantly, “I’ll stay――a minute.” - -“Thank you. And shall we be comfortable during that minute? ‘Come, let -us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings.’” - -She shook her head. - -“Please!” he begged. “You will never be able to stand during all I have -to tell you. Besides, you forget my delicate physique; I have been -repeatedly warned against over-exertion.” - -She sank gracefully to the grass in a billowing of white muslin, -smiling and frowning at once as though annoyed by his persistence, -yet too amiable to refuse. All of which produced its effect, Ethan -realizing that she was doing him a great favor and becoming duly -grateful. He followed her example, seating himself on the turf in front -of her, paying, however, less attention to the disposition of his feet. -Unconsciously his hand sought a pocket, then dropped away again. She -laughed softly. - -[Illustration] - -“Please do,” she said. - -“You’re sure you don’t mind?” - -“Not at all,” she answered. So he produced his cigarette case and -then his match-box and finally blew a breath of gray smoke toward the -motionless branches overhead. - -“Feel better?” she asked sympathetically. - -“Much, thank you.” - -“Then you may begin.” - -“Begin――――?” - -“Tell me what you know about me.” - -“Oh! To be sure. Well, let me see. In the first place, your name is -Laura Devereux. I am right?” - -She smiled mockingly. - -“I haven’t agreed to tell you that.” - -“Oh! But I know I am. I haven’t asked any questions, for that would -have been taking an unfair advantage, I fancy. But I happened to -overhear yesterday afternoon at the Inn that a family by the name -of Devereux had taken The Larches. And, as I have been in Riverdell -before, I know where The Larches is――are――. Would you say is or are?” - -“I am only a listener.” - -“Then I shall say am, to be on the safe side; I know where The Larches -am. You are living at The Larches.” - -“No, I――I am merely staying there.” - -“For the summer; exactly. That’s what I meant. When you are at home -you live in Boston. I won’t tell you how I discovered that, but it was -quite fairly.” - -“Do I――are you sure I am a Bostonian?” - -“Hm! Now that you mention it――I am not. Perhaps your family moved to -Boston from somewhere else?” - -“Yes?” - -“From――let me see! Pennsylvania? But no, you don’t talk like a -Pennsylvanian. Maryland? No again. Where, please?” - -“But I haven’t acknowledged the correctness of any of your premises -yet,” she objected. - -“But you don’t dare tell me I’m wrong,” he challenged. - -“At least, I am not going to tell you so,” she answered. - -“That is as good as an admission!” - -“Very well,” she replied serenely. “And now that you know so much about -me――that is all, by the way?” - -“So far,” he replied. - -“Then don’t you think I ought to know something about you?” - -“I am flattered that you care to.” He laid a hand over his heart and -bowed profoundly. - -[Illustration] - -“My curiosity is of the idlest imaginable,” she responded cruelly. - -“I regret that bow,” he said. “However, I shall tell you anyhow. I am -like the prestidigitateur in that I have nothing to conceal. And,” he -added ruefully, “mighty little to reveal. My name is Parmley, surnamed -Ethan. I am holding nothing back there, for I have no middle name. It -has been a custom in our family since the days of the disreputable old -Norman robber from whom we are descended to exclude middle names. I -was born in this same Commonwealth of Massachusetts of well-to-do and -honest parents, both of whom have been dead for some years. I was an -only child. Pray, Miss Devereux, consider――――” - -“If you don’t mind,” she interrupted, “I’d rather you didn’t call me -that. I haven’t owned to it, you know.” - -“Pardon me! I was about to ask you, Miss Clytie, to consider that fact -when weighing my faults. As a child I was intensely interesting; I -have gathered as much from my mother. I passed successfully through -the measles, mumps, scarlet fever and whooping-cough. I also had the -postage-stamp, bird-egg and autograph manias. Later I wriggled my way -through a preparatory school――a sort of hot-house for tender young -snobs――and later managed, by the skin of my teeth and a condition or -two, to enter college. As it has been the custom for the Parmleys to -go to Harvard, I went there too. I am boring you frightfully?” - -“No.” - -“I succeeded in completing a four-year course in five. Some chaps do -it in three, but I didn’t want to appear arrogant. I took it leisurely -and finished in five. Then, as there had never been a lawyer in the -family, I decided to study law. I entered the Harvard Law School and -graduated a few weeks ago. I am now spending a hard-earned vacation. In -September I am to enter a law firm in Providence as a sort of dignified -office-boy. - -“I am the possessor of some worldly wealth, not a great deal, but -enough for one of my simple tastes. I am even a member of the landed -gentry, since I own a piece of land with a house on it. I also own an -automobile, and it is that I have to thank for this pleasant meeting.” - -She smiled a question. - -“I left Boston bright and early Monday morning with Farrell. Farrell -calls himself a chauffeur, in proof of which he displays a license -and a badge. If it wasn’t for that license and that badge I’d never -suspect it. Farrell’s principal duty seems to be to hand me wrenches -and screw-drivers and things when I lie on my back in the road and -take a worm’s-eye view of the machine. All went as nice as you please -until we reached a spot some two miles north of this charming hamlet. -There things happened. I won’t weary you with a detailed list of -the casualties. Suffice it to say that I walked into Riverdell and -Farrell followed an hour later leaning luxuriously back in the car -and watching that the tow-rope didn’t snap. I ate a supplementary -breakfast at the Inn while Farrell entertained the blacksmith, and -then, having nothing better to do, I dropped the canoe into the water -and paddled downstream. Ever since I stole my first apple forbidden -territory has possessed an unholy fascination for me, and that is why, -perhaps, I roamed up the brook and stumbled, as it were, into Arcady.” - -[Illustration] - -“What color is your machine?” she asked. - -“Exceedingly blue.” - -“And――isn’t it almost repaired?” - -“Er――almost, yes.” - -“It is taking a long while, seems to me.” - -“Well, its malady was grave. I think it had tonsillitis, judging from -the sounds it made.” - -“Indeed? But it seemed to go very well.” - -“I beg your pardon?” - -“I said that it seemed to go very well.” - -“You have seen it?” - -“Yes, it passed the house yesterday at about two o’clock.” - -“There are a great many blue cars in the world,” he defended. - -“Has it returned yet?” she asked, unheeding. - -“No. The fact is, I was on my way to Stillhaven to visit friends there, -so I sent the car on for them to use. I have observed that, failing my -presence, the car does fairly well for my friends.” - -[Illustration] - -“What a pessimist! And you are staying in Riverdell?” - -“For a few days, yes; at the Roadside.” - -“Riverdell should feel flattered to find that you prefer it to -Stillhaven as a summer resort.” She gathered her skirts together with -one hand and started to rise. Ethan jumped to his feet and enjoyed the -intoxicating felicity of feeling her hand in his. - -[Illustration] - -“Thank you,” she murmured, smoothing her gown. Then, with a return of -that provoking, mocking little smile, “Would it be a terrible blow to -your vanity,” she asked, “if I were to tell you that your guesses are -all wrong?” - -“Terrible,” he answered anxiously. - -“Then I won’t tell you,” she said soothingly. - -“But――but――they’re not wrong, are they?” - -“‘Where ignorance is bliss――――’” she murmured. - -“But I’d rather know! Tell me the worst, please!” - -She shook her head smilingly. - -“Good-bye,” she said. - -“Aren’t you going to let me see you again?” he asked dolefully. Again -she shook her head. - -“I have had the offer of a new pool,” she said, “one with all modern -improvements, and I think I shall move.” - -“But――now, look here, it isn’t fair! What am I to do? It’s evident -you’ve never spent a holiday in Riverdell, or else you’d appreciate my -plight. There’s nothing to do save paddle around on that idiotic little -river. And every time I’m afraid the water will leak out when I’m not -watching it and leave me high and dry. If only for charity, please let -me come here and see you now and then――just for a moment! I’ll be very -good, really; I’ll even agree to stay in the canoe and frizzle before -your eyes!” - -“You speak,” she answered perplexedly, “as though I had invited you -to come to Riverdell, or at least as though I were to blame for your -remaining here!” - -He resisted the words that sprang to his lips. - -“I beg your pardon then. I wouldn’t for the world imply anything so -absolutely criminal. But I am here and I am bored; and surely you -haven’t so many excitements, so many engagements in the mornings but -that you can spend a few moments communing with nature here at the -pool? Of course, I don’t recommend myself as an excitement; perhaps -I’m more of a narcotic; but I’ll do anything in my power to amuse you! -I’ll――I’ll even tell you fairy stories or sing to you; and I’ve never -done either in my life!” - -“That is indeed an inducement then,” she laughed. “But――good-bye.” - -“You won’t?” - -“Do you think it likely?” she asked a trifle haughtily. - -“Not when you look like that,” he answered dismally. - -“Good-bye,” she said again, moving away. - -“Good morning,” he answered. His eyes were on the ground where she had -been sitting. He took a step forward. From there he watched her pass -up the slope under the trees. At the last she turned back and looked -regretfully at the pool shimmering in the noontide heat. - -“I shall be sorry to leave it,” she said softly, yet distinctly. -“Perhaps――I shall change my mind.” - -Then she went on, passing from shadow to sunlight, until the trees hid -her. When she was quite out of sight Ethan lighted a cigarette, smiling -the while. Then he flicked aside the charred match, lifted his left -foot, stooped and picked up a little white wad which, as he gently -shook it out, became a dainty white handkerchief. He looked at it, -held it to his nose, touched it to his lips, folded it carefully and -clumsily and placed it in his pocket. Then he turned toward the pool -and the canoe. - -[Illustration] - -“She’s a coquette,” he muttered, “an arrant coquette. But――but she’s -simply――ripping!” - - - - -VI. - - -Ethan finished his second cigarette and tossed it hissing into the -pool. The nearest swan immediately paddled over to investigate. Ethan -sighed exasperatedly. - -[Illustration] - -“Go ahead, then, you old idiot!” he muttered. “You won’t like it any -better than you liked the last one; they’re out of the same box; but -try it if you want to. There, I told you so! Oh, that’s it; blame me -now! Blessed if you aren’t almost human!” - -He looked for the twentieth time toward where the corner of the white -pergola gleamed through the trees and for the twentieth time turned his -gaze disappointedly away again. He had been there almost three-quarters -of an hour, and he wasn’t going to stay another minute! If she didn’t -want to come, all right! Only she wouldn’t get her handkerchief if she -didn’t! He had begun to doubt this morning whether she had dropped -that article on purpose, as he had suspected yesterday. If it had -been an accident she had probably returned already and searched for -it, and he could not base his hopes of seeing her on the score of the -handkerchief. It was quite evident, anyhow, that she wasn’t coming. -That farewell remark of hers which he had translated to his own liking -meant nothing, after all. He would throw his things into his bag and go -on to Stillhaven after dinner. He had been a comical ass to fool around -here like this tagging after a girl who didn’t want to be bothered -with him and risking dyspepsia at the Inn! And what the deuce was he -thinking about women for, anyway? Hadn’t he taken a solemn vow on the -occasion of his first, last and only affair to leave them severely -alone? He grinned reminiscently. - -That had been a desperate affair, brief and tragic. It had occurred -in his freshman year. _She_ was a “saleslady” in a florist’s shop on -the Avenue. She had cheeks like one of the bridesmaid roses she sold, -a tip-tilted nose, sparkling gray eyes and a mass of black hair which -stood up from her forehead in a mighty rolling billow and smelled -headily of violet perfume when she pinned a carnation to his coat. It -had been love at first sight with Ethan, and he had seldom appeared -in public without a flower in his button-hole. He remembered with -something between a shudder and a sigh the exaltation of pride and joy -with which he had accompanied her to the theatre that first time! When -he had returned from his Christmas vacation to find her engaged to -the red-haired drug-clerk on the next corner he had promptly become a -confirmed misogynist. During the seven years which had elapsed between -that time and this he had relented somewhat, had gone through more than -one mild flirtation and had kept his heart. There had been so many, -many other things to occupy him that love had remained unconsidered. -And now, what was he doing here, sitting in a canoe in a lily pond when -he ought of right to be at Stillhaven helping Vincent sail the “Sea -Lark” in the club races? Wasn’t he making a fool of himself again? Then -something white moved toward him between the trees and the question -went unanswered. - -[Illustration] - -“I think I must have lost a handkerchief here yesterday,” she announced -by way of greeting and explanation. - -“A handkerchief?” he cried. “Let me help you search.” - -“Oh, don’t bother! It doesn’t matter, of course, only――I thought that -if it was here I’d get it.” - -But Ethan was already out of the canoe. - -“Er――what was it like?” he asked. - -“Rather plain, I think; just a narrow lace edge.” - -They looked diligently over the grass. Plainly it was not there. She -raised her head, brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead and -laughed. - -“I’m always losing them,” she said apologetically. - -“Perhaps,” he suggested, “it might be well to offer a reward.” - -“A splendid idea!” she cried. “We’ll post it on this tree here. Have -you a piece of paper? And a pencil?” - -“Both.” He tore the front from an envelope and handed her his pencil. -She accepted them and set herself down on the grass. - -“Oh, dear, what shall I write on? The canoe paddle? Thanks. Now let me -see. What shall I say?” - -“You must start by writing ‘Lost!’ in big letters at the top. That’s -it.” Ethan’s rôle of adviser carried delicious privileges. It allowed -him to kneel quite close behind her and observe the pink lobe of one -small ear from a position of disquieting proximity. - -“And then what?” - -“I beg your pardon!” he said, with a start. “Why, then――er――let me see. -‘Lost’――――” - -“I have that,” she said demurely. - -“A small handkerchief belonging――――” - -“How did you know it was small?” she asked with smiling interest. - -“They always are,” he answered. “Where was I?” - -“‘A small handkerchief belonging’――――” - -“That doesn’t sound quite shipshape. Let’s try again. ‘Lost, a small -lady’s’――――” - -They laughed together as though it was a most novel and excellent joke. - -“I don’t care to advertise my smallness,” she objected. - -“Well, once more now. ‘Lost, a small handkerchief with a funny little -lace border and an embroidered D in the left-hand lower corner. -Finder――――’” - -“An embroidered D?” she asked puzzledly. - -“Wasn’t it a D?” - -“Perhaps it was,” she allowed. She leaned a little farther forward, for -the brief glance she had cast toward him had revealed the fact that his -head was startlingly near. “And――and the reward?” she asked a trifle -constrainedly. - -“Finder may keep same for his honesty!” - -“But――but that’s ridiculous!” she cried. “What’s the use of advertising -at all?” - -“To save the finder from committing theft,” he answered soberly. “Think -of his conscience!” - -“How do you know it’s a ‘him’?” she asked carelessly. - -“I used the masculine gender merely in a――er――general way.” - -“Oh!” - -“Yes. Have you written that?” - -“No, what’s the good of it? If the finder is dishonest enough to keep -it he may look after his own conscience!” - -“That’s unchristian,” he answered sadly. - -“I’ll do this, though,” she said. “If the finder will produce it I will -allow him to keep it on one condition.” - -“And that?” he asked suspiciously. - -“If there is a D on it he may have it. Otherwise――――” - -The finder produced it, unfolded it and looked at the “left-hand lower -corner.” - -“Well?” she asked, smilingly. He frowned. - -“It――it looks more like an H,” he answered. - -“It is an H! Now may I have it?” - -“But it ought to be a D,” he said. “H stands neither for Devereux, -Laura, nor Clytie.” - -“I never said it did!” - -“This is quite plainly not your property,” he went on, refolding it. -“Being unable to find the owner, I shall retain possession of it.” - -“But it’s mine!” she cried. - -“Yours? What does the H stand for, then?” - -She hesitated and flushed. - -“I never said my name was Laura Devereux,” she murmured. - -“No, but you see I happen to know that it is.” He replaced the -handkerchief in his pocket. Then he reached forward and took the paper -and envelope from her lap. “I shall write an advertisement myself,” he -said. - -She watched him while he did so, biting her lip in smiling vexation. -When it was done he passed the composition across to her. - - “FOUND!” - - “A lady’s lace-bordered handkerchief bearing the initial H in - one corner. Owner may recover same by proving ownership and - rewarding finder. Apply to Vertumnus, care Clytie, Lotus Pool, - Arcadia, between ten and twelve.” - -[Illustration] - -“What’s the reward?” she asked. He shook his head thoughtfully. - -“I haven’t decided yet. Something――rather nice, I fancy.” - -A faint flush crept into her cheeks and she turned her gaze toward the -pool. - -“It is much cooler to-day,” she said. - -“Yes, last night’s thunder-storm cleared the air,” he replied, in a -similar conversational tone. She glanced at the tiny watch hanging at -her belt. Then she murmured something and sprang lightly to her feet -before Ethan could go to her assistance. - -“You are not going?” he asked in dismay. - -She nodded gravely. - -“But it’s quite early!” - -“I don’t think it right to associate with dishonesty,” she answered -severely. “You know very well that that handkerchief is mine!” - -“Yes, I do,” he answered. “That is, I saw you drop it yesterday. -Probably it belongs really to someone else. Unless――” he smiled――“unless -you bought it at a bargain sale? In which case the initial didn’t really -matter, I suppose.” - -“Will you give it to me?” she asked unsmilingly. - -“But it’s such a little thing!” he pleaded earnestly. “You have so many -more that surely the loss of this one won’t inconvenience you. And -I――I’ve taken a fancy to it.” - -“That’s a convenient excuse for theft!” she answered. - -“It’s the only one I have to offer,” he replied humbly. - -“But――it’s so absurd!” she cried impatiently. “What can you want with -it?” - -He was silent a moment. She glanced furtively at his face and then -moved a few steps toward the house. - -“I wonder if you really want me to tell you?” he mused. - -“Tell me what?” she asked uneasily. - -“Why I want to keep it.” - -“I don’t think I am――especially interested,” she answered coldly. “Are -you going to return it?” - -“Maybe; in a moment. You don’t want to hear the reason?” - -“I――Oh, well, what is the reason?” she asked impatiently. - -“A very simple one. As a handkerchief merely it doesn’t attract me -especially. I have seen more beautiful ones, I think――――” - -“Well!” she gasped. - -“My desire to keep it arises from the simple fact that it is yours, -Clytie.” - -She strove to meet his gaze with one exhibiting the proper amount of -haughty resentment. But the attempt was a failure. After the first -glance her eyes fell, the blood crept into her face and she turned -quickly away. - -“May I keep it, please?” he asked softly. - -She went swiftly up the little slope under the trees. - -“Clytie!” he called. She paused, without turning, to listen. - -“May I keep it?” - -Clytie dropped her head and passed quickly from sight. - -[Illustration] - - - - -VII. - - -Ethan stretched his arms, chastely clad in striped blue and white -madras, yawned expansively, kicked his legs loose from the sheet in -which they were entangled, and awoke; awoke to find the sunlight -dancing across the room and making radiant blurs of his brushes on the -old mahogany bureau; awoke to find a robin fervently launching his -brief ballad in through the window from the branches just outside; -awoke to find himself in a new and very wonderful world, a world -populated by a girl with violet eyes, a reiterating robin, and himself! - -[Illustration] - -He was in love! - -Knowledge of the fact came to him with a heart-clutching abruptness. -He had gone to sleep last night without premonition; he awoke now to -a startling illumination of mind. Whence had the tidings come? From -the dancing sunlight streaming across the old boards? From the scented -breeze that stirred the leaves out there? From the perfervid gossip -of the swelling throat? Who could tell? And yet there it was, that -knowledge, as real as the green summer earth awaiting him, as much a -part of his life as the breath he drew! - -He lay for a long while with his hands clasped under his head and -gazed out into the beautiful green and golden and azure world, with a -happy smile on his face, thinking new and ineffable thoughts. It is a -glorious thing to find oneself really, wholly in love for the first -time, glorious, wonderful, absorbing.... - -[Illustration] - -The robin ceased his pæan and was silent, with his head cocked -attentively. Perhaps his ears were better than yours or mine and he -heard a song sweeter and more triumphant than any of his own, for after -a moment of listening he spread his wings and floated down across -sunlit spaces to the orchard. - -I wonder if the safety razor was not invented for the man in love. -Certain it is that Ethan could never have used any other sort this -morning. At times, driven by a mad impatience to be out and away, he -shaved frantically, as though he feared that Nature would roll up -her landscape and be gone ere he could reach it; at times he stood -motionless, gazing unseeingly at the tip of his nose reflected in the -old mirror. Now he whistled blithely, only to stop in the middle of -a note and relapse into a silent gravity. In short, he exhibited all -the symptoms, mental and physical, usually accompanying his disease; -temperature increased, pulse at once full and fluttering, respiration -erratic, pupils of the eyes slightly dilated, mind apparently affected. - -He dressed with unusual care, bewailing the fact that his choice of -garments was limited to two suits. Neither blue serge nor gray homespun -seemed fitted for the occasion; his heart hankered after purple and -fine linen. But at last he was dressed and was hurrying down the -creaking staircase to a late breakfast. Forty minutes later he was -floating amidst the lilies of Arcady. - - * * * * * - -That line of stars, dear reader, is the typographic equivalent of -three wasted hours in the life of Ethan Parmley,――three empty unhappy -hours spent in and about a silly old puddle smelling like an apothecary -shop (I am using his own language now) with only a trio of idiotic -swans to talk to. The Nymph of the Violet Eyes came not. - -And yet he saw her that day, after all; caught a fleeting glimpse of -her that at once assuaged and sharpened his hunger. He was on the porch -of the Inn after dinner smoking, morosely, when a smart trap swept by -from the direction of The Larches. It contained a coachman and two -ladies. One of the ladies had violet eyes, though, as her head was -turned away from him and partly hidden by a white parasol, he could not -have proved it at the moment. As for the other, he couldn’t have said -whether she was young or old, fair or dark. The pair of glistening, -well-groomed bays left Ethan scant time for observation. In a twinkling -the carriage and its precious burden were gone. And although he never -left the porch for more than a minute at a time all the rest of that -interminable summer afternoon he found no reward. There were other -roads leading to The Larches. - -[Illustration] - -The evening mail brought him a note from Vincent Graves: - - “Farrell showed up here Monday with the car and your note. I - tried to find out from him what you were up to, but he either - didn’t know or exercised a discretion I never credited him - with. I hope it is nothing more than sunstroke; folks have been - known to recover from that with their minds almost as good as - new. Anyhow, I am coming over in a few days to see for myself. - I know all about mythology――accent on the _myth_. But look - here, no poaching on my preserves! I finished third yesterday - on time-allowance; would have done better if I hadn’t carried - away my jib at the outer mark. No wind to speak of. Can’t - you come on for Saturday’s race? We’ve had the car out once - or twice. There’s something wrong with it. Farrell has it in - hospital to-day. My compliments to her, but tell her I need you - here. - - “Yours, - - “_Vincent_.” - -After supper Ethan drew a chair to the open window of his room, set the -lamp precariously on the bureau where the light would fall upon the -portfolio in his lap, and replied to Vincent: - - “My dear Vincent (he wrote), life moves sweetly in Arcadia. - Clytie, she who beside her blossom-starred pool has so long - gazed, enamored, upon the fiery Apollo, now hearkens to the - wooing tones of green-garlanded Vertumnus. No more she fills - the leafy hollow with her tears and soft reproaches, but - reclined where shading branches defy the sun god’s fiercest - rays, she smiles betimes upon Vertumnus. And he, bathing his - heart in the warm blue pools of her eyes, forgets and forswears - the too-coy Pomona. So, friend, runs the drama of Clytie the - dawn-eyed Nymph of the Lotus Pool; of Apollo, radiant and - unapproachable Lord of the Sun; and of Vertumnus, humble and - enamored God of the Seasons. Friend, for love of me, petition - fair Venus to aid my cause! - - “And now Jove be with you! The night wind steals sweetly - through Arcadia’s moonlit glades and bears to my nostrils the - heart-stirring fragrance of lily and of lotus. It is Clytie’s - breath upon my cheek. Ah, my friend, I weep for you that you - can never know the love of a god for a nymph in Arcady! May - Somnus, gentlest of the gods, send thee sweet dreams. Farewell. - - “VERTUMNUS.” - - “And now, having read this over, I see clearly that it is - beyond your understanding, my friend, and so it may be that it - will never reach your eyes.” - -It never did. - - - - -VIII. - - -It sometimes rains even in Arcady. - -When Ethan arose the next morning he found that Apollo was taking a -rest and that Jupiter was having things all his own way. At the foot -of the orchard the little river was foaming and boiling with puny -ferocity. The grass was beaten and drenched and the foliage was adrip. -But in the shelter of the elm outside the window a robin chirped -cheerfully, thinking doubtless of gustatory joys to come. - -“Well, you’re taking it philosophically, my friend,” muttered Ethan, -“and I might as well follow your example, even though I have a soul -above fat worms. It’s got to stop sometime, and I might as well make -the best of it meanwhile. Still,” he added ruefully, “a whole day in -this ramshackle old ark doesn’t appeal to me much.” - -He dressed leisurely, ate breakfast slowly, and afterward sought to -kill time with a book by a window in the tap-room. The volume, a -paper-clad novel left by some former guest, answered well enough. It -is doubtful if he could have given undivided attention to the most -engrossing story ever written. The rain, streaking down the tiny panes, -caught strange hues from the old glass and the light from the crackling -logs in the fire-place. Sometimes they were green like tender new apple -leaves in May, sometimes blue like rain-drenched violets, like――no, not -like but, rather, reminiscent of, certain eyes! Ah, there was food for -thought! The novel was turned face-downward on his knee, the cigarette -drooped thoughtfully from the corner of his mouth and his hands went -deep into his pockets. Those eyes! Rain-drenched violets? By jove, -yes! No simile, no comparison could be better! Rain-drenched violets -touched by the yellow light of the sun stealing back through gray -clouds! Rather an elaborate description, he thought with a smile at his -sentimentalism. The smile deepened as he recalled the infinitesimal -blue circle under the left eye, a little blue vein showing with -charming distinctness against the warm pallor of the skin like a vein -in soft-toned marble. It was a little thing to recall, little in all -ways, but it seemed to him a veritable triumph of the memory! By half -closing his eyes he could almost see it. - -[Illustration] - -_Slam!_ - -The paper-covered novel fell to the floor and lay fluttering its leaves -in helpless appeal. He rescued it and sought his place again, smiling -with real amusement over his foolishness. - -“I’m certainly behaving like an idiot,” he thought. “I never knew -being in love was so――so deuced unsettling. First thing I know, if -I don’t keep a pretty steady hand on the reins, I’ll be writing -poetry or roaming around the place cutting hearts and initials in the -tree-trunks! H’m; let me see now; where was I? Ah, here we have it! - -[Illustration] - -“‘Garrison laid the diamond trinket gently back on the desk and puffed -slowly at his cigar. Presently he turned with disconcerting abruptness -to Mrs. Staniford. “There is no possibility of mistake?” he asked. -“None,” was the firm reply. “You could swear to the identity of this -jewel in court?” “Yes.” Garrison whipped a small round, black object -from his pocket and settled it against his eye. Then he took up the -trinket again and bent over it closely. “My dear madam,” he said -softly, “if you did that you would be making a grave mistake.” “What -do you mean?” she cried fiercely. “I mean,” was the smiling response, -“that this is not one of your jewels,――unless――――” “Well?” she -prompted impatiently. “Unless, my dear madam, you wear paste!” A sharp -involuntary exclamation of surprise startled them. They turned quickly. -Lord Burslem was crossing the library with white, set face.’ - -“Pshaw! I knew all along the things were paste,” sighed Ethan. -“Singleton is Mrs. Staniford’s son by a former marriage and she has -pinched the stones and given them to him to get him out of a scrape, -something to do with that lachrymose Miss Deene, maybe; at least, -something she knows about. Laurence is as innocent as the untrodden -snow, or whatever the correct simile is, and if I keep on to the last -chapter I’ll find out that fact. But I prefer to believe him guilty. He -wore a gardenia in his buttonhole, and that settles it. I can’t stand -for a man who wears gardenias. I insist that he is guilty.” - -He tossed the book half-way across the room, arose, stretched his long -arms above his head and stared out of the window. The rain was falling -straight down from the dark sky in a manner that would doubtless have -pleased Isaac Newton greatly, showing as it did so perfectly the -attraction of gravitation. The drops were of immense size, and when one -struck the window pane it spread itself out into a very pool before -it trickled down to the sash. Ethan watched for awhile, then yawned, -glanced at his watch and lounged in to dinner. - -About three o’clock the sky lightened somewhat and the torrential -downpour gave way to a quiet drizzle. He donned a raincoat and sought -the road. It was not bad walking, for the surface was well drained, and -he had put three-quarters of a mile behind him before he had considered -either distance or destination. Then, looking around and finding the -highway lined on the right by an ornamental iron fence through which -shrubs thrust their wet leaves, he smiled and shrugged his shoulders. - -“I didn’t mean to come here,” he said to himself, “but now that I’m -here I might as well go on and tantalize myself with a look at the -house.” - -Another minute brought him to a broad gate, flanked by high stone -pillars. A well-kept drive-way swept curving back to a large white -house, a house a little too pretentious to entirely please Ethan. -On one side,――the side, as he knew, nearest the lotus pool,――an -uncovered porch jutted out, and from this steps led to a white pergola. -The latter was a recent addition and as yet the grapevines had not -succeeded wholly in covering its nakedness. From one of the windows on -the lower floor of the house a dull orange glow emanated. - -[Illustration] - -“They’ve got a fire there,” said Ethan, “and she’s sitting in front of -it. Wish I was!” - -He settled the collar of his raincoat closer about his neck to keep out -the drops, and sighed. - -“You know,” he went on then, somewhat defiantly, addressing himself -apparently to the residence, “there’s no reason why I shouldn’t walk -right up the drive, ring the bell and ask for――for Mr. Devereux. I’ve -got the best excuse in the world. And once inside it would be odd if I -didn’t see Her. I’ve half a mind to do it! Only――perhaps she’d rather I -wouldn’t. And――I won’t.” - -He took a final survey of the premises and turned away with another -sigh. Before he had reached the Inn the clouds had broken in the south -and a little wind was shaking the raindrops from the leaves along the -road. - -[Illustration] - -“A good sailing breeze,” he thought. “And, by the bye, this is -Saturday. I ought to be at Stillhaven helping Vin win that race. I -suppose I’ve disappointed him. However, a fellow can’t be in two places -at once; he ought to know that.” - - - - -IX. - - -The little breeze had held all night, and this morning the trees and -shrubs were quite dry again, but looking better for their bath. It was -Sunday, and as the canoe floated into the harbor of the lotus pool a -distant church bell was ringing. Perhaps, he told himself with a sudden -sinking of the heart, he was doomed to another day without sight of -Clytie; for it might be that the family would drive to church. But the -first fair look about him dispelled his forebodings. She was standing -at the border of the pool throwing crumbs of bread to the swans. She -saw him at almost the same moment and smiled. - -[Illustration] - -“Don’t come any nearer, please,” she said. “You’ll scare them.” - -He dipped his paddle obediently and sat silent in the rocking craft -until the last crumb had been distributed and she had brushed the -crumbs from her outstretched hands. Stooping, she picked a book from -the grass and faced him. - -[Illustration: SHE WAS THROWING CRUMBS OF BREAD TO THE SWANS.] - -“May I come ashore?” he asked. - -“You are already trespassing dreadfully,” she objected. - -“‘In for a penny, in for a pound,’” he replied, sending the canoe -forward. “‘Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.’ And if I -could think of any other proverbs applicable to the matter I’d quote -them.” He jumped out and pulled the bow of the canoe onto the turf. - -“You won’t mind, however, if I decline to stay and be hung with you?” -she asked. - -“On the contrary, I should mind very much. In fact, I demand that you -remain and go bail for me in case I’m apprehended.” - -“I fear I couldn’t afford it,” she answered. - -“Doubtless your word would serve,” he said. “Perhaps, if you told them -the excellent character I bear, you might get me off scot-free.” - -“But I don’t think I know enough about your character.” - -“There’s something in that,” he allowed. “Perhaps you had better -observe me closely for the next hour or two. One can learn a great deal -about another person’s character by observation.” - -“How can I do that if I go to church?” - -“You can’t. That’s one reason why you’re not going to church.” - -“Oh! And――are there other reasons?” - -“Yes.” - -“Perhaps you had better give a few of them. I don’t think the first one -is especially convincing.” - -“Well, another one is that I haven’t seen you for three days.” - -She shook her head gravely. - -[Illustration] - -“Go on, please.” - -“Not good enough? Well, then, another reason is that you haven’t seen -me for three days.” - -She laughed amusedly. - -“Worse and worse,” she said. - -“I didn’t think you’d care much for that argument,” he responded -cheerfully. “It was somewhat in the nature of an experiment, you see. -But the real unanswerable reason is this: I have missed seeing you -very much, I have been very dull, you are naturally kind-hearted and -would not unnecessarily cause pain or disappointment, and I beg of you -to give me a few moments of your cheerful society! Is that――better?” - -“I don’t particularly care for it.” - -“Miss Devereux――――” - -“What have I told you?” she warned. - -“I beg pardon! But――now, really, please let me call you by a Christian -name! I――I’d like to graduate from mythology.” - -“I don’t think it would be proper for you to call me by my Christian -name,” she answered demurely. - -“A Christian name, I said,” he answered patiently. “Tell me why you -don’t want me to address you as Miss Devereux, please.” - -“Because――――” She stopped and dropped her gaze. “We’ve never been -properly introduced, have we?” - -“True! Allow me, pray! Miss Devereux, may I present Mr. Parmley? Mr. -Parmley, Miss Devereux!” He stepped forward, smiling politely and -murmuring his pleasure, and ere she knew what was happening he was -shaking hands with her. “Awfully glad to meet you, Miss Devereux!” he -assured her cordially. - -[Illustration] - -She backed away, striving to draw her hand from his, and laughing -merrily. - -“Is that what you call a proper introduction?” she asked. - -“Well, it’s the best I could do under the circumstances,” Ethan -answered. “Having no mutual acquaintances handy, you see――――” - -“Don’t you think――you might let go now?” she asked, her laughter dying -down to a nervous smile. - -“Let go?” he echoed questioningly. - -“Please! You have my hand!” - -He looked down at it in mild surprise; then into her face. - -“Isn’t that the strangest thing? I was never so surprised――――!” - -“But――Mr. Parmley, please let go,” she begged. - -“You don’t mean to say that I still have it?” He tried to seem at ease -and to speak carelessly, but his heart was pounding as though striving -to do the Anvil Chorus all by itself, and his voice wasn’t quite steady. - -“I do,” she answered coldly, biting her lip a little. A disk of red -burned in each cheek. Her eyes were fixed on his imprisoning hand. -“Besides, you are hurting me,” she added, falling back upon the fib -which is a woman’s last resource in such a quandary. But he shook his -head soberly. - -“Pardon me, but that’s impossible. You will observe that my hand is -quite loose about yours. Accuse me of unlawful detention, if you wish, -but not of cruelty.” - -“But――but it is my hand,” she protested faintly. - -“Well, that is nothing to boast of,” he replied smiling somewhat -tremulously. She had kept her eyes from him all along and he was -determined to see them before he gave up. “Look at mine; it’s twice as -big!” - -The brown lashes fluttered for an instant and Ethan nerved himself for -the shock of looking into those violet eyes. He didn’t know what was -going to happen, he assured himself in a sudden delicious panic, and -he didn’t much care. Probably he would do something awfully rude, -something that would frighten and anger her, something for which she -would never forgive him! Perhaps the sudden trembling of his hand about -hers warned her, for the lashes lay still again. A moment of silence -followed, during which Ethan’s heart threatened to choke him. Then all -at once the little warm hand ceased tugging and lay limp and inert in -his. She turned her head and looked toward the trees and the shade. - -“If we are going to hold hands for any length of time,” she remarked -coolly, “perhaps we had better sit down and be comfortable.” - -Ethan released her instantly, while a wave of burning color swept -across his face. He felt terribly small and ridiculous! He realized -that he had taken it for granted that she had been experiencing -emotions similar to his own, and instead of that she had been only -bored and――and exasperated! He followed her laggingly up the slope, -savagely calling himself names and meditating a retirement in such -order as was still possible. She seated herself comfortably on the -grass with her back against the smooth round trunk of a maple and -patted down her skirts. Then she glanced up at him calmly. - -“Do you realize,” she asked, “that you have made me late for church?” - -He was grateful for that ready change of subject and piqued that she -should be so little disconcerted. His own heart was still dancing. - -“I am an humble instrument of Providence,” he answered as lightly as he -could, dropping to the ground at a respectful distance from the tips -of her small shoes. - -[Illustration] - -“That sounds a little sacrilegious,” she said. “Besides――_humble_?” - -“Humble, yes,” he answered. “I can’t think of a better word, unless it -is ‘abashed.’” - -“But why do you call yourself an instrument of Providence? Because you -live there?” - -“‘That sounds a little sacrilegious,’” he quoted. “I meant that if you -had gone to church you would have made yourself very warm and possibly -returned with a headache. I have saved you from that.” - -“Thank you! But of course if it hadn’t been for the introduction I -couldn’t have stayed!” - -“That is understood,” he responded with becoming gravity. She smiled -across as though amused by some thought, and Ethan felt vaguely -uncomfortable. - -“It’s possible,” she said thoughtfully, “that you might have found a -mutual acquaintance after all to perform the ceremony for you.” - -“Oh, I dare say; one usually can if one hunts long enough. It’s a -common enough process, and not especially difficult. For instance, I -ask, ‘You are acquainted in Boston, Miss Dev――Miss Unknown!’ You reply -‘Slightly, Mr. Parmley.’ ‘Perhaps you know the Smiths?’ ‘Smith, Smith? -N――no, I don’t think so. Are they friends of the Joneses?’ ‘I dare -say; I’ve never met the Joneses. Come to think of it, though, there -were some Joneses visiting the Robinsons at Nahant last summer; he is -a banker, I think; there were two daughters and a son just entering -college,’ ‘Oh, were you at Nahant?’ you inquire. ‘Then perhaps you -met the Browns there?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Really? Isn’t that jolly? Did you know -Gwendolin?’ ‘Well, rather!’ I reply in a tone insinuating that it -was rather desperate while it lasted. ‘Isn’t that odd?’ you exclaim. -‘Yes, funny how small the world is, isn’t it?’ I remark with startling -originality. Then we’re acquainted. Yes, it’s simplicity itself.” - -“It certainly sounds so!” she laughed. “Let us try it!” - -“Very well.” - -She frowned intently for a moment, then, - -“Are you acquainted in Stillhaven, Mr. Parmley?” she asked. - -“Why, yes,” he answered, in surprise. - -“Then perhaps you know the――the Penniwells?” - -“Sorry to say I don’t,” he replied, laughing. - -“No? They live in the next house to the hotel.” - -“Hotel? Ah, I think I’ve met the Hotels! Was there a son about my age, -with――――” - -“Don’t be absurd!” she laughed. “We’ll never get on if you don’t go by -the rules.” - -“I thought I was,” he answered. - -“Let me see! Oh, yes, the Graveses, do you know them?” - -“Why, yes; do you?” he answered interestedly. - -“I’ve met them.” - -“Vincent is a great friend of mine,” he said eagerly. “I was on my way -to visit them for a while when――when I stopped here.” - -“Really?” she cried. “How small the world is, after all!” - -They laughed together. Then, - -“And you know Vin?” he asked. - -“Yes, I――I’ve met him,” she replied. Her tone hinted of embarrassment. - -“Oh!” said Ethan thoughtfully. Had he discovered the explanation of -Vincent’s puzzling warning? Was the girl before him the “preserves” -referred to by his friend? Ethan’s heart sank for a moment. Nonsense! -She had plainly implied that she knew him only slightly, in which case -she didn’t belong any more to Vin than to him. “You don’t know him very -well, then?” he questioned anxiously. - -“Aren’t you a――well, just a weeny bit inquisitive?” she asked smilingly. - -“It may sound so,” he acknowledged, “but, you see, it means a good deal -to me; it’s rather important.” - -[Illustration] - -“Important?” she repeated wonderingly. - -“Yes, you see――――” But of course he couldn’t explain why it was -important. So he floundered helplessly a moment. “Yes――that is――well, -they are very good friends of mine, Vin especially, and――” - -“Oh, you feared perhaps I wasn’t a proper person for them to know?” - -“Good heaven, no!” - -“Then I don’t see――――!” - -“I don’t blame you,” he said discouragedly. “Really, I was only talking -nonsense. I――I thought that if you knew them well, and I knew them -well, then we――we might know each other well!” - -She gazed at him sorrowfully a moment. Then she shook her head -disappointedly. - -“No,” she said, “no, that wasn’t at all what you meant. I suppose even -studying for the law has its effect.” - -He laughed embarrassedly. - -“May I see what you are reading?” he asked. - -She lifted the volume from her lap, gravely took a folded handkerchief -from between the leaves where it had been doing duty as a mark, and -handed him the book. - -“I’m sorry you can’t trust me,” he laughed. - -“So am I,” was the regretful response. “It is terrible to have a friend -both a――a prevaricator and a――a――a――――” - -“Embezzler,” he suggested helpfully. “Yes, it is bad. ‘Love Sonnets -from the Portuguese,’” he continued, reading the title. “May I ask if -you were going to take this to church with you?” - -“I hadn’t thought of it. I suppose, like most men, you consider them -silly and sentimental,” she challenged. - -He shook his head. - -“Sweet and sentimental, rather,” he replied. - -“You could hardly be expected to care for them, I suppose,” she said. -“Your tastes, if I recollect aright, run rather toward ‘The Ingoldsby -Legends’!” - -“That is indeed unkind,” he murmured sorrowfully. “No, I am very fond -of these, this one especially; if it were not Sunday I would read it.” - -“What has Sunday got to do with it?” she asked. - -“Perhaps nothing,” was the reply. “I dare say it is only my Puritanism -cropping out. You know we New Englanders find it very difficult -to reconcile pleasure with religion. I can fancy the ghost of my -great-great-great-grandfather, in sugar-loaf hat and with beruffed -neck, standing over there in the shadows, holding his hands aloft in -holy horror at the sight of me sitting here on Sunday morning with a -volume of love-poems in my hands.” - -“What nonsense!” she cried indignantly. “Isn’t love just as holy as――as -anything? Isn’t――――” She stopped abruptly and Ethan, lifting his head, -found her gazing toward him with something almost like horror in her -wide eyes. - -“What is it?” he cried anxiously. - -She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the hands folded on her -knees. - -“Nothing,” she said very quietly. She laughed softly, uncertainly. -“Will you give me my book, please?” she asked. - -“Of course,” he answered, still puzzled. Then, as he started to hand it -to her, it opened at the fly-leaf and he drew it back. “Laura Frances -Devereux,” he read aloud. He smiled quizzically as he returned the -volume. - -“That proves nothing,” she replied defiantly. “I――I might have borrowed -it.” - -“True, circumstantial evidence is not absolutely conclusive, -unless――unless there is a good deal of it!” - -“You may think what you choose,” she answered lightly. She looked at -her watch and prepared to rise. This time Ethan was ready. She gave him -her hand and he helped her to her feet. The hand drew itself gently but -determinedly out of his and he let it go without a struggle. - -[Illustration] - -“Must you go?” he asked. - -She nodded. Then she laughed. - -“If you only knew what trouble I have getting here you’d appreciate――――” -She broke off, reddening a little. - -“I do appreciate,” he said earnestly. “And I thank you very much for -your kindness this morning to a very undeserving chap. I――do you know, -Miss Devereux, I came within an ace of calling at The Larches yesterday -afternoon?” - -She looked up quickly. - -“Yes, I went for a walk in the afternoon and found myself at the gate -over there. I could see that you had a fire in the library and――――” - -“But how did you know it was the library?” she asked. - -“Why――er――wasn’t it? I supposed it was. Anyhow, it looked dreadfully -tempting. I pictured you sitting in front of it, and I very nearly paid -a call.” - -“I’m glad you didn’t,” she breathed. - -“Why?” - -“Because――why, you don’t know me!” - -“I should have asked for your father and introduced myself.” - -“Well, you certainly don’t lack assurance!” she gasped. - -“It would have been all right,” he assured her cheerfully. - -“You wouldn’t have found him, though,” she said dryly. - -“Then I would have asked for Mrs. Devereux, and, failing her, Miss -Devereux. You see, yesterday I was a bit desperate,” he added smilingly. - -“Desperate! I should say foolhardy!” - -“Why? Because I wanted to see you? Look here, please; why shouldn’t I -call on you at the house? As I’ve told you, I’m fairly respectable. -And――and I want to see you――more often! I suppose it sounds dreadfully -cheeky,” he went on softly, “but I want you to like me, and it doesn’t -seem to me that I get a fair show.” - -The color came and went in her cheeks and the violets were hidden from -him. - -“It certainly does sound――cheeky, as you call it,” she said after a -moment, rather unsteadily. “Considering that you have seen me but four -times.” - -“Five, if you please. Besides, I don’t see that that matters. In fact, -I rather think the mischief was done the first time!” - -He captured her hand and for a moment it only fluttered in his grasp. -Then it tried for liberty, but unsuccessfully. A moment passed, and, - -“Are you making love to me, Mr. Parmley?” she asked, with a little -amused laugh. It was like a cold douche, but he resisted his first -impulse to release her. - -[Illustration] - -“Yes, I am,” he answered stoutly. “That’s just what I’m doing! And I’m -going to keep on doing it until I’m convinced that there’s no hope for -me. Please don’t struggle,” he continued, capturing her other hand -also. “I’ll let you go in just a moment. Maybe I’m behaving a good deal -like a bully, but I’m head-over-heels in love with you, Laura, and――――” - -“No, no! Please!” she cried, with a little catch in her voice. - -“What――what have I done?” he asked anxiously. - -“I――You mustn’t call me that!” - -“Very well, I won’t――yet. But I think of you as Laura――――” - -“I don’t want you to!” - -“Then I’ll try not to,” he answered gently. “But――couldn’t you make me -very happy by telling me that I’ve got a chance with you, dear? Just -the ghost of a chance?” - -The bowed head shook negatively. - -“You won’t? Or――you can’t?” - -“I――I won’t,” she whispered. - -He uttered a cry and strove to draw her toward him, but she resisted -with all her strength. - -“Please! _Please!_” she gasped. - -“I’ll――try not to,” he said ruefully. “But I may call at the house? -You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” - -“I――suppose so,” she murmured faintly. - -“To-day?” he cried. “To-morrow?” - -“No, no! Wait, please; let me think.” She raised a pair of troubled -eyes to his for an instant. “I must see you again first. I have -something to tell you; something which may make a difference. -Perhaps――perhaps you won’t want to see me again――then!” - -He laughed disdainfully. - -“Try me! And when will you tell me this――this wonderful news? To-morrow -morning? Here?” - -She nodded and strove to release her hands. After a moment of -indecision he let them go. She stood before him motionless an instant. -Then she raised her head slowly and he saw that her eyes were wet. With -an inarticulate cry of pain and longing he started forward, but she -held a hand against him. - -“Please!” she said again, imploringly. His outstretched arms dropped -to his sides. “If I shouldn’t come――to-morrow――――” she began. - -“But you’ve promised!” - -“I know.” She nodded assent. “But――but if I shouldn’t――――” - -“But you will!” he cried. “I shall be here, dear! Don’t fail me! If you -don’t come I’ll go to the house!” - -“Then I must,” she said with a little smile. “And now――――” She went to -him and placed her hands on his shoulders and felt him tremble under -her touch. She raised her eyes, violets darkened and dewy with unshed -tears, to his. “Will you do one thing for me?” - -[Illustration: SHE WENT TO HIM AND PLACED HER HANDS ON HIS SHOULDERS.] - -His eyes answered. - -“Then, please,――” she dropped her head in sudden shame――“kiss me -once――and let me go.” - -His arms closed about her hungrily, but she held back. - -“Promise!” she whispered “Promise to let me go!” - -“Yes,” he groaned, “I promise.” - -For an instant he was looking far, far down into dim, wonderful violet -depths.... - -Then he was alone. He turned unseeingly toward the canoe and trod upon -the book which lay forgotten on the grass. Stooping, he rescued it and -dropped it into his pocket. - -“I’m getting to be an awful thief!” he murmured tremulously. - -[Illustration] - - - - -X. - - -A glorious golden afternoon, a scintillant silvery night, and -then――Dawn’s pink finger-tips aquiver on the edges of the hills and -the bursting forth of a new day to the exultant overture of Nature’s -orchestra. - -Ethan looked forth from the open window on to the most beautiful sight -given to the eyes of mortals,――the fresh, sparkling morning world -of summer seen through the magnifying lenses of love. The orchard -was fresh and vivid with the tender greens of sun-shot leaves and -grass, and dark and cool with pools of pleasant shadow. Dew-gems -shimmered under the caressing breeze and the tips of the spreading, -reaching branches nodded and whispered together. Beyond, the little -silver-voiced river laughed amongst its shallows and flashed in -the sunlight. From the marshland came the happy gurgle of a flock -of red-winged blackbirds, while fainter, yet sweet and clear, the -light-hearted tinkle of the bobolink floated across from the rising -meadows. Sleek, well-conditioned robins balanced amidst the apple-trees -and sang contentedly between groomings of their red waistcoats. And -louder, clearer, gladder sang Ethan’s heart. - -[Illustration] - -Dear reader, have you ever been young and in love on a summer morning? -Do you recollect how intoxicating was the soft, sweet breeze that -entered through the open window? How like liquid gold the sunshine -spread across the sill and dripped upon the floor? How every bird-note -was but a different rendering of the one sweet name? How eager and -impatient you were to be out in the good green world and how loth to -cease your dreaming long enough to dress? What a vastly important thing -was the selection of a tie or a ribbon? I hope that you remember these -things if you have forgotten all else! - -The lotus pool never glowed more brilliantly, never sparkled more -radiantly than it did this morning. It was not difficult to imagine -that those floating cups held the colors into which Nature dipped her -brushes ere she painted the summer flowers. The lazy, luxury-loving -swans were dozing in the sunlight on their tiny island. The cascade -plashed and tinkled over moss and stone. The fringing trees blew -welcome shade upon the grassy sides of the little basin. And Ethan, -lifting his dripping paddle as the canoe rippled its way across -the mirror-like surface, drew a deep breath of the scented air and -experienced a sudden bewildering joy of life, an almost paganish -exultation. It seemed to him this morning that the world and he drew -breath together. - -[Illustration] - -It was early when he floated into Arcady and there were no violet eyes -to greet him. But his impatience was soothed by the happiness which -remembrance gave him. He dreamed there in the sunshine, lighting a -cigarette now and then and letting it burn itself out unnoticed between -his fingers. White clouds floated across the blue sky and across the -surface of the pool. Dragon-flies, their metallic-lustred wings ablaze, -darted and turned. Birds sang and insects buzzed, the breeze gossiped -to the leaves and the moments passed. When he finally awoke fully from -his dreaming and looked wonderingly at his watch the morning was almost -gone. He turned disappointed eyes toward the brief vista afforded by -the jealous trees. No glimpse of white drapery rewarded him. She had -said that she might not come. Why? Vaguely troubled, he propelled the -canoe to the bank and stepped out. Under the shade of the willow made -forever sacred by their meetings he threw himself down and waited while -the long hand of his watch crept laggingly half-way around the dial. -But patience had flown, and when the time he had set himself had passed -he jumped to his feet and set off up the lawn under the trees. - -[Illustration] - -Presently the corner of the white pergola sprang into view. Then the -trees thinned away and he was looking across an open, sun-bathed -stretch of lawn at the gleaming house. And as he looked, himself a -scarcely noticeable figure against the green shadows of the grove, -the front veranda of the house became suddenly peopled with a girl in -a white frock and a man in gray flannels. They came together through -the doorway and paused side by side at the top of the steps. Even at -that distance Ethan recognized them only too well. The man had taken -the girl’s hand and was speaking to her. Ethan watched for an instant -only, yet in that instant he saw with a sudden sinking of the heart how -the girl’s head, the sunlight aglint on the brown hair, lifted itself -with a little gesture of intimate happiness to her companion. Then, in -a sickening panic lest he might see more, Ethan turned quickly and -plunged back into the shadows. - -All the way back to the Inn, with every stroke and lift of the paddle, -a refrain hammered ceaselessly at his brain: “No poaching on my -preserves! No poaching on my preserves!” What an ass he had been not to -understand! He hated Vincent as he had never hated anyone in his life, -realizing all the while the absolute injustice of it. Why hadn’t he -guessed from Vincent’s note how the land lay? He might have known that -Vincent could have referred to no one but Her. But why couldn’t the -fool have come out honestly and told him? A week ago, even three days -ago would have been time! Then, in the next moment, he knew that that -was not so, that it had always been too late, always since that first -meeting! Yet why, if she were Vincent’s, had she allowed him to love -her? Why had she virtually acknowledged her love for him? Why―――― - -[Illustration] - -He remembered that kiss with a sudden choking, clutching sensation -at his throat. Had she meant nothing by that? Nothing? No, she had -meant all, everything that he had hoped! She did love him, and neither -Vincent Graves nor anyone else could have her! But that exultation was -short-lived. What she had meant was of little moment; she belonged to -Vincent by promise if by naught else, and Vincent was his friend. - -Things were suddenly greatly simplified. His tangled thoughts smoothed -themselves out and he gave a sigh that was partly of relief. At least -his duty was plain. “No poaching on my preserves!” He had only to heed -that warning and take himself out of the way. That thought steadied -him down and his pulses ceased their deafening pounding. It wouldn’t -be easy, that duty! He knew that well enough, although at this moment -he was viewing it almost calmly. When the present excitement passed he -would find it hard going! - -The prospect of facing Vincent troubled him more than anything else -as he drew the canoe from the water and laid it on its rack under the -trees. Vincent was probably even now awaiting him up there on the -porch. For a moment he thought of taking the canoe again and stealing -off up the stream for a ways and then walking across to the station -and taking the train for――anywhere out of all this! But it would be a -sneaking, cowardly thing to do. Besides, sooner or later Vincent and -he must meet, and as well now as any time. He lighted a cigarette with -fingers that trembled a little and walked up through the orchard. - -As he had expected, Vincent Graves was awaiting him on the porch. He -was a tall, dark, fine-looking fellow, with a deep, pleasant voice and -a remarkable, careless ease of manner; just the sort of a chap, Ethan -told himself, that any sensible girl would fall in love with. Vincent -did not see him for a moment, and in that moment Ethan had opportunity -to study his friend with a new interest, view him from a novel point. -But he found he could not be coldly critical; Vincent was Vincent, -wholly admirable and lovable; and Ethan’s heart warmed under a sudden -inrush of affection as he went forward with outstretched hand. - -“Hello, Vin!” he said. - -Vincent swung about, seized the hand and grasped it warmly. - -[Illustration] - -“Why, you old chump!” he responded, smiling broadly. “Aren’t you -ashamed to look me in the eye? What have you been doing with yourself? -How’s mythology?” - -“When did you come up?” asked Ethan, echoing the smile. - -“This morning. Stopped at――――” He looked at Ethan with a quick lowering -of the eyebrows. “Look here, what’s the matter with you? You have -the cheerful, care-free countenance of a gentleman strolling to the -gallows! Been ill?” - -“Ill?” laughed Ethan. “Certainly not; never felt better in my life.” - -“If you felt any better you’d scream, eh? Well, you’ve been up to -something, Ethan, and you can lie yourself black in the face for all I -care. You’re going back with me this evening; that’s settled. I came -over in your machine and for a wonder it didn’t even spring a leak. I -left it at The Larches,” he went on in response to Ethan’s questioning -survey of the driveway and stable-yard. “I stopped there and made a -call.” He paused, smiling mysteriously. - -“Oh,” said Ethan. - -“Yes, I――look here, let’s take a walk. What time is it? What? Oh, -dinner be blowed! Come on, I want to talk a bit. Hang it, Eth, I’ll -have to talk or bust up like one of your tires!” - -“All right,” answered Ethan, without enthusiasm. “Smoke?” - -Vincent accepted a cigarette and when they had lighted up they passed -down the steps and along the road, under the arching elms, Vincent’s -hand on his friend’s shoulder. - -“It’s largely your fault, old chap,” he said presently. He chuckled to -himself a moment before continuing. “You see, I got uneasy about your -sudden and mysterious affection for this rural paradise. I’ve never -heard you enthuse about it before; in fact I remember several violently -disparaging remarks on the subject of Riverdell. So when you wrote -that you were stopping here a while to study mythology I got scared. -Understand?” - -“Perfectly! What are you jawing about?” - -“Lord, you’re dense! I’ll explain in words of one――――” - -“Thanks.” - -[Illustration] - -“You see, Eth, you’re a very captivating beggar; you have a wonderful -way with the fair sex. For instance, there was that girl at college――――” - -“Cut it out,” growled Ethan. - -“Still touchy? Well, I wasn’t taking any chances. Being interested over -this way myself I thought I’d better take a run over and look after -things. Thought maybe you were making love to my girl; poaching, you -know. Couldn’t have blamed you, old chap, for she’s just about the -swellest thing you ever saw.” - -“So you came up to head me off, eh?” inquired Ethan uninterestedly. - -“Exactly. And found to my surprise that you hadn’t been near the honey. -You don’t know what you’ve missed, Eth. They’re awfully nice folks, the -whole push; and they’d have been tickled to death to have you call. Why -didn’t you?” - -“Consideration for your future happiness, Vin,” answered the other -calmly. - -“And you haven’t been near the place?” - -“I got as far as the gate one day when taking a walk.” - -“Well, will you tell me what in blazes you’ve been doing here for the -last week?” - -“No.” - -Vincent studied him silently a moment. - -“All right, old chap; I don’t want to be rudely inquisitive.” - -“You’re not; only don’t bother your head about me. I’m off to-day, -anyhow.” - -“Yes, you’re coming with me. The mater made me swear by the graves of -my ancestors that I’d fetch you back. And I’ve also promised to bring -you to dinner to-night at the Devereuxs’.” - -“Sorry, Vin.” - -“You won’t?” - -“You’ve guessed it.” - -“Why not? Look here, I want you to meet Laura!” - -Ethan winced. - -“That’s nice of you, Vin, but really I can’t. I’ve simply got to be -in Boston this evening. Tell them, please, that I’m very sorry, will -you? And that I hope to have the pleasure some other time. Make it all -right, like a good chap.” - -“Well. But you’re coming over to Stillhaven later, aren’t you?” - -“Maybe; perhaps in a week or two.” - -“That’s rotten! Look here, Eth, can’t I get in on this? I don’t know -what’s up, and I won’t ask, but if I can help you any way――――” - -“Of course, old man. If you could I’d say so. But there isn’t anything -wrong. I’ll explain later. It’s all right.” - -“Doubt it. But you know best, I dare say.” - -They turned by mutual consent and strolled back toward the Inn. -Presently Vincent broke the silence again. - -“By the way, I haven’t told you quite all, Eth; I’m engaged.” - -“The deuce you are!” Ethan simulated intense surprise. - -“Yep!” Vincent grinned triumphantly. - -“Who to, you idiot?” - -“Why, haven’t I told you? To Laura Devereux. They’re the folks I’ve -been talking about. They have The Larches. You knew that!” - -“Yes, but――when did it happen?” - -“About an hour or so ago. I didn’t mean to do it to-day, but――hang -it, Eth, I just simply had to! She’s the best girl in the world, old -chap, and the prettiest too. I want you to see her. When you do you’ll -understand. I told her about you and she wants me to bring you up -to-night.” - -“I hope you’ll be mighty happy, Vin.” They shook hands there in -the empty road very gravely in spite of their smiling faces. “And -congratulate her, too, old man. You’re rather a good sort――at times. -And of course I’ll get you to take me to see her just as soon as I come -back. I’ll have to get on the good side of her so she’ll let me come -and see you once in a while when you’re married. When’s it to be?” - -[Illustration] - -“Don’t be an ass!” grunted Vincent. “As for when, well, we haven’t -settled that yet. Maybe it won’t be until Spring; I fancy she would -rather wait until then. And I ought to get things fixed up a bit first, -too,” he added vaguely. - -“Oh, it won’t take you long to burn a few letters and photographs,” -answered Ethan flippantly. - -“Go to the deuce! Do we eat now?” - -After dinner they sat together on the porch until such time as Vincent -thought he might venture to return to The Larches, and Ethan listened -patiently and with attempted enthusiasm to his friend’s mild ravings. -Vincent was ludicrously happy. - -“It’s all so darned funny!” he kept repeating. “A few hours ago I was -scared to death for fear she wouldn’t have me, and now――――” - -“And now you’re a goner,” finished Ethan. - -“Laugh if you want to,” replied Vincent happily. “I expected you would. -I thought you’d cut up worse than you have, old chap. My time will -come!” - -“When it does, you let me know,” scoffed Ethan. - -“Look here, I wish you’d give up this Boston business and go along with -me to-night, Eth. I――there’s a reason.” - -“Nonsense, you’re beyond reason. Besides, I can’t give it up, Vin. -Sorry; wish I could.” - -“Oh, go to blazes! You could if you wanted to. Look here, I lay you any -odds you like that you’ve been caught yourself! You’ve met some girl -here and she’s gone home and you’re tagging after! You ought to have -more pride, Eth!” - -“I dare say, Mr. Solomon. By the way, I don’t want to hurry you, but -it’s nearly half after two, and――――” - -“The deuce it is!” Vincent leaped to his feet and Ethan laughed loudly -and cruelly. Vincent viewed him in amazement a moment and then joined. - -“Talk about tagging!” chuckled Ethan. - -“You haven’t seen her, you old scoffer,” responded his friend. - -At a little after three Ethan tossed his luggage into the car, climbed -in beside the unruffled Farrell and swung the big blue monster toward -Boston. And while it ate up the long miles Ethan, his hands on the -wheel, scowled miserably ahead and honestly strove to forget that he -had ever stumbled into Arcady. - -[Illustration] - - - - -XI. - - -A few days later Ethan walked into the office of the law firm in -Providence, hung his hat on a hook in the closet and blandly inquired -for his desk. The members of the firm discussed it later in the privacy -of the inner office. - -“Looks as though he might be in earnest, anyway,” suggested the senior. -“Apparently not afraid of work, eh?” - -“Something funny about it,” replied the junior, who was a bit of a -pessimist. “It isn’t like a fellow of his sort to give up his summer -and buckle down to reading law in July.” He shook his head with -misgivings. “It won’t last, mark my word.” - -But it did. Business was slack throughout the hot weather and Ethan -had plenty of time for reading; and he made the most of it. Several -letters came from Vincent reminding him of his promise and urging -him to come down to Stillhaven for a while. But always Ethan pleaded -press of duties, until Vincent, whose own law shingle had been hanging -out for a year and who had yet to find business pressing, felt more -convinced than ever that his friend had, to use his own expression, -“come a cropper somehow!” - -[Illustration] - -In September Vincent ran down and spent Sunday. Ethan didn’t press him -to come again, for his conversation was not of a sort calculated to -reconcile a disappointed lover to his lot. The Devereuxs were still at -Riverdell, but were returning to their Boston apartments the last of -the month. - -“She hasn’t forgiven you for not calling,” warned Vincent, “and you’ll -have to eat dirt when you do see her, old chap.” - -Ethan expressed entire willingness to grovel, but flatly refused to -set a date for the proceedings. Vincent departed somewhat huffed, and -for some time there was a perceptible coolness between them. Ethan -regretted it, but he wasn’t ready yet to trust himself in the rôle of -Vincent’s friend. - -His first vacation since he had gone to work came early in October. -Then a letter from a real estate agent who had the renting of his -property made a journey to Riverdell advisable. He left Providence, -with Farrell, in the car one Friday morning, intending to stay in -Riverdell over Saturday, and at two o’clock swung the machine in -through the big gate of The Larches. It had been a glorious brisk day, -they had made record time and Ethan’s spirits had been high. But now, -as they rumbled slowly up the circling driveway, old memories were -asserting themselves and buoyancy gave place to depression. The maples -were aflame in the afternoon sunlight, the Virginia creeper about the -porches was radiantly crimson, and along the gleaming white pergola -bunches of purple grapes were still aglow. But for all this The Larches -had a lonesome look. The windows on the lower floor were shuttered and -told eloquently of desertion. - -[Illustration] - -Ethan’s summons at the bell went unanswered for a time. Then footsteps -sounded on the marble tiles inside and the big door swung open, -revealing a comfortably stout, double-chinned woman who wiped her -damp, red hands on her blue calico apron. - -“Why, Mr. Ethan!” she exclaimed. - -“Yes, it’s I, Mrs. Billings,” he replied. “Farrell, take the car around -to the stable and I’ll have William open up for you.” - -[Illustration] - -He stepped into the dimly lighted hall, already filled with the chill -of approaching winter, and looked about him. Everything was apparently -the same in spite of its recent occupancy. The house had been rented -furnished, and plainly the Devereuxs had been satisfied to leave things -as they had found them. He took off his coat and tossed it on to the -big old-fashioned mahogany couch. Mrs. Billings, the housekeeper, was -still chattering volubly. - -“If we’d known you was coming, sir, we’d have had the blinds open and -the fires lighted.” - -“Never mind,” answered Ethan. “Have your husband build a fire in the -library and in my room. I shan’t be here beyond Sunday morning. You -can give me my meals in the library. I had a letter from Stearns a day -or so ago telling me that the Devereuxs had left and asking whether -I wanted to rent for the winter. I don’t believe I do. I don’t think -I shall rent again at all. Well how have you been, you and that -good-for-nothing husband of yours?” - -“Nicely, sir, for myself, thank you. And Jonas, he isn’t one of the -complaining sort, sir, but he do have the rheumatism something awful in -wet weather. And how has your health been, Mr. Ethan?” - -“I’ve been frightfully healthy, thank you. Where’s your husband?” - -“I’ll call him, sir, at once. He’s out somewheres on the grounds, sir. -And I’ll have a fire lit in no time, sir. He’ll be very pleased to see -you, sir, will Jonas.” She stopped at the end of the hall and sank her -voice to a hoarse whisper. “I fear he’s getting old and failing, Mr. -Ethan,” she said despondently. “It――it’s his head sir.” - -“Eh?” - -“Yes, sir. Along in June it was, Mr. Ethan, or maybe early in the month -following, sir, that he came in quite excited like and wild, saying as -he had seen you with his own eyes over toward the grove there. Yes, -sir. ‘Jonas,’ says I, ‘it’s the sun.’ ‘No, ’taint,’ says he. ‘I saw him -with my own eyes,’ says he, ‘a-standing under the trees. And when I -looked again he was gone,’ he says. It gave me quite a shock, sir, as -you might say.” - -[Illustration] - -“Naturally. And since then you have observed no other symptoms?” - -“No, sir, not particular, but he do seem a heap fonder of his victuals -than he used to, and I’ve heard tell as that’s a sure sign of a failing -intellect, Mr. Ethan.” - -“In the case of your victuals, Mrs. Billings,” replied Ethan, “I’d say -it was an indication of wisdom.” - -The housekeeper bridled and beamed. - -“But, really,” continued Ethan, smiling, “I wouldn’t worry about -Billings. The fact is, I was down here for a day or so about the time -you speak of.” - -“Here, sir? And you never came to see us, sir?” - -“There――er――there were reasons, Mrs. Billings. And now how about that -fire? And send your husband out to unlock the carriage house, please.” - -“Yes, sir, directly, sir. And Jonas really saw you, Mr. Ethan, same as -he said he did?” - -“I think it more than likely, Mrs. Billings.” - -“Well, that’s a great load off my mind, sir. Softening of the brain do -be so unfortunate!” - -Later, just at dusk, Ethan emerged from the library on to the broad -cement-paved porch at the side of the house. Pausing to light a -cigarette, he passed down the stone steps to the pergola and traversed -its length. Fallen leaves rustled softly under his feet and the purple -clusters showed the effects of the frost. Once out of the arbor, his -steps led him almost unconsciously across the open lawn, russet now -and streaked with the long sombre shadows of the trees. He found -himself swayed by two desires; one to see the lotus pool again, the -other to avoid it. He went on through the twilight grove, filled with -a gentle――I had almost said pleasant――sadness. Underfoot the ground -was carpeted with the red leaves of the maples. Here and there a white -birch stood like a pale gold flame in the dying sunlight. The dark -green larches alone held themselves unchanged. - -The pool was sadly different. Yellowing lily-pads floated upon the -surface, but no blossoms caught the slanting rays of the sun. Ethan sat -down under the willow, took his knees into his arms and puffed blue -smoke-wreaths into the amber light. Presently a shadow presence came -and sat beside him. The presence had violet eyes and red, red lips that -smiled wistfully. He didn’t turn his head, for he knew that if he did -he would find himself again alone. And presently they talked. - -[Illustration] - -“You were very cruel,” he said sadly. - -“I didn’t mean to be,” she answered. - -“No, I don’t think you did. You――you just didn’t think, I suppose. It -was all a bit of good fun with you. But――it played the deuce with me.” - -“Did it?” she asked regretfully. - -“But I’m not blaming you――now,” he went on. “I did at first. It seemed -needlessly cruel and heartless. But I understand now that it was all -my fault. You see, dear, I took it for granted, I thought, that -you――cared――the way I did. It was my silly conceit.” - -He thought he heard a little sob beside him, but he resisted the -temptation to turn and look. - -“If only there hadn’t been that kiss,” he continued dreamily. -“That――I’ve never quite understood that. Sometimes――I dare say it’s my -conceit again――but sometimes I can’t help thinking that you did care――a -little――just then! That is the hardest to forgive, dear,――and forget, -that kiss. If it wasn’t for the memory of that I think I could stand it -better. Why did you do it? _Why?_” - -There was no answer save the sighing of a little breeze which crept -down the slope in a floating shower of dead leaves. - -“Ah, but I want to know!” he insisted doggedly. “Was it just in fun? -Was it merely in pity? It couldn’t have been, I tell you! You never -kissed me like that for pity, dear! There was love in your eyes, -sweetheart; I saw it; fathoms deep in that purple twilight! Love, do -you hear? You can’t deny it, you can’t! And you trembled in my arms! -Why did you do it?” he asked sharply. - -He turned impetuously,――and sighed. He was all alone. The presence had -fled. - -[Illustration] - -He tossed aside the dead cigarette in his hand and shivered. The breeze -was growing as the day passed, a chill October breeze laden with the -heavy, melancholy aroma of dying leaves. He arose and retraced his -steps to the house. - - - - -XII. - - -Ethan drank the last drop of excellent black coffee in the tiny cup and -swung his chair about so that he faced the cheerfully crackling logs -in the library fire-place. He had enjoyed his dinner, and he began to -feel delightfully restful and drowsy. The day spent in the open air, -with the wind rushing past him, the hearty repast and now the dancing -flames were all having their natural effect. He reached lazily for his -cigarette case, his gaze travelling idly over the high mantel above -him. Then his hand had dropped from his pocket and he was on his feet, -peering intently at a small photograph tucked half out of sight behind -one of the old Liverpool pitchers which flanked the clock. A moment -after he had it in his hands and was bending over it in the glare of -the light from the chandelier. - -[Illustration] - -It was evidently an amateur production, but it was good for all that. -And Ethan was troubling his head not at all as to its origin or its -merits or defects. It was sufficient for him that it showed a small, -graceful figure in white against a background of foliage, and that the -eyes which looked straight into his from under the waving hair with -its golden fillet were Hers. It was Clytie. One hand rested softly on -a flower-clustered spray of azalea, one bare sandaled foot gleamed -forth from under the straight white folds of the peplum and the lips -were parted in a little startled smile. Ethan devoured it eagerly while -his heart glowed and ached at once. He remembered telling her that he -would like to see those pictures, and remembered her laughing response: -“I’m afraid you never will!” And now he was looking at one of them -after all! And he was still looking when the gardener entered with the -replenished wood-basket. - -“Where did this come from, Billings?” Ethan asked carelessly. - -Billings set down his burden and crossed to the table. He was a small -man, well toward sixty, with his weather-beaten face shrivelled into -innumerable tiny, kindly wrinkles. In spite of his years, however, he -showed no signs of the mental degeneration which his wife had feared. -He came and looked near-sightedly at the card which Ethan held out. - -“Why, sir, Lizzie came across that in one of the upstair rooms when -she was cleaning up after the folks went away and she put it on the -mantel here, thinking maybe it was valuable and they’d send back for -it.” - -“I see.” Ethan laid it on the table, his eyes still upon it. “I don’t -think they’ll want it. Doubtless Miss Devereux has plenty more.” - -“Yes, sir; they took a good many, sir, between them.” - -“They? Oh, she had a friend with her?” - -“Yes, sir. Miss Hoyt. I remember when they was taking those, sir. It -was early in the summer, soon after they came. The young ladies they -dressed themselves up in those queer things――sort o’ like sheets, they -was, sir――” the gardener’s voice became faintly apologetic, as though -he had not quite approved of such doings――“and went out on the lawn one -forenoon. They got me to cut away a bit of the branches, sir, right -here.” Billings indicated the upper left-hand corner of the picture. -“She said she had to have more light. It wasn’t much, sir; just a few -old twigs; no harm done, sir.” - -“Of course not. It was――Miss Devereux asked you?” - -“Yes, sir; Miss Laura they called her. A very pleasant young lady, sir.” - -“Very pleasant, Billings,” assented Ethan with a sigh. - -“You know her, then, sir?” - -“I――hardly that; I’ve met her.” - -“Yes, sir.” Billings turned toward the fire. “Shall I drop another log -on, sir?” - -“No, I shall be going to bed very shortly.” - -“Very well, sir.” Billings mended the fire, replaced the tongs and -stood carefully erect again, chuckling reminiscently. Then finding -Ethan’s eyes on him questioningly he said: “she took me, sir, too, with -her camery.” - -“Really? I should like to see the picture.” - -“Thank you, sir. It’s in the kitchen. Shall I fetch it? Lizzie says -it’s a very speakin’ likeness, sir, excepting that I was sort o’ took -by surprise, so to say, and had no time to spruce up.” - -“Yes, bring it in by all means.” - -The gardener hurried away and Ethan turned again to the picture. When -Billings returned Ethan said carelessly: - -“By the way, if your wife asks about this you can tell her I -have――er――taken charge of it. Ah, this is the picture, eh? Why, I’d -call that excellent, Billings, excellent! Truly, a very speaking -likeness. You say Miss Devereux took this?” - -[Illustration] - -“Yes, sir, the same day they was taking the others, sir. I had lopped -off the branches and was standin’ by watching, sir, and after she had -taken that one there, sir, she said to me: ‘Billings, would you mind if -I took’――――” - -“Not after she’d taken this, Billings,” interrupted Ethan, in the -interests of accuracy. “She didn’t take this one, of course.” - -“I beg pardon, Mr. Ethan?” - -“Never mind. I only said you didn’t mean that it was after she had -taken this one; it was another one you meant.” - -“Oh, no, sir, it was that very one, sir. I had just lopped off the -branches――――” - -“You don’t mean that she took her own picture, surely?” asked Ethan -with a smile. - -“No, sir.” - -“Exactly.” - -“It was that one you have there, sir, she took.” - -“This one? Now, look here, Billings, let’s get this straightened out -while we’re at it. Do you mean that Miss Devereux――mind, I’m talking of -_Miss Devereux_――do you mean that Miss Devereux took this photograph I -have in my hands?” - -“Yes, sir, that’s the one. I had just lopped――――” - -“Never mind the lopping,” interrupted Ethan with smiling impatience. -“But tell me how she did it.” - -“Why, sir, she stood her camery up a little ways off, sir; it had three -little legs onto it, sir; and she pressed a little rubber ball, and -the camery went ‘click,’ sir, like that, sir,――‘click!’ and――――” - -“Yes, yes, but――now look here, how far off was the camera from――from -this place, where you had lopped the branches?” - -“About twenty feet, sir, maybe.” - -“Well, will you kindly, tell me how Miss Devereux managed to squeeze -the little rubber ball and get into the picture at the same time?” - -“Sir?” - -“What I mean is,” answered Ethan patiently, “how could she have been -here――” tapping the photograph he held――“and at the camera the same -instant?” - -That was evidently a poser. Billings scratched the back of his head -dubiously. Finally, - -“But she wasn’t there, sir!” he explained. - -“Wasn’t where? At the camera?” - -“Yes, sir; I mean no, sir. She wasn’t there!” He pointed at the picture. - -“Wasn’t here!” exclaimed Ethan. “Then how――hang it, man, but here’s her -picture!” - -“Beg pardon, Mr. Ethan?” Billings looked both pained and puzzled, and -shot a quick look of inquiry at the dinner table. - -“I say here’s her picture, you idiot!” repeated Ethan. - -“Whose picture, sir?” - -“Why, Miss Devereux’s!” - -“No, sir.” - -“What do you mean by ‘no, sir?’ I say――――” - -A light broke upon Mr. Billings. - -“I beg your pardon, Mr. Ethan,” he explained hurriedly. “I see your -mistake, sir, but you said as how you’d met the young lady, and I -thought you understood as how that wasn’t her, sir.” - -“What? Who?” - -“Wasn’t Miss Devereux, sir.” - -“Do you mean that this isn’t Miss Devereux here in this picture?” cried -Ethan. - -“Yes, sir; that is, no, sir. That isn’t her, Mr. Ethan.” - -“Isn’t――! Then who is it?” - -“Miss Hoyt, sir. I thought you under――――” - -Ethan took Billings by the arms and forced him into a chair. - -“You sit there and answer my questions, Billings,” he commanded -excitedly. He held the photograph before the gardener’s alarmed face. - -“Who is this in the picture?” - -“Miss Hoyt, sir, as I was telling you――――” - -“Nonsense! You’re mistaken, man! Look close; take it in your hands! -Don’t answer until you’ve looked at it well. Where are your spectacles?” - -“I don’t wear any, sir,” was the dignified reply. “My eyes, Mr. Ethan, -are just as clear as ever they were, sir. Why, I can see――――” - -“Yes, yes, I beg your pardon, Billings, but I have most particular -reasons for wanting to be certain about this! Now――take a good look at -it!――now who is she?” - -“Miss Hoyt, sir, and if you was to put me in jail the next minute, sir, -I wouldn’t say different! No, sir, not if my life was depending on it, -sir!” - -[Illustration] - -“And it’s not Miss Devereux?” - -“No, sir, nor never was! Why, Mr. Ethan, Miss Devereux, as you must -recall, sir, is quite tall and slim, like――like a young birch, -sir,――with very dark hair. And Miss Hoyt, sir, as you can see――――” - -Ethan planted himself with his back to the fire and lighted a cigarette -with trembling fingers. - -“Billings,” he said softly, “I’ve been a damned fool!” - -“Yes――that is, I can’t believe it, sir,” was the respectful answer. But -Billings’ expression said otherwise. - -“Now I want you to tell me all you know about Miss Hoyt,” said Ethan. -“By the way, what was her first name?” - -“Cicely, sir; Miss Cicely Hoyt.” - -“Cicely,” repeated Ethan softly. “It just suits her!” - -“Beg pardon, sir?” - -“Oh, never mind. Where does she live?” - -Billings thought in silence a moment. - -“Ellington, sir,” he answered triumphantly, evidently pleased at his -powers of memory. - -“Where the deuce is that, though?” - -“About the centre of the state, sir, I think.” - -“This state, do you mean? Massachusetts?” - -“Yes, sir, Massachusetts.” - -“And she was a friend of Miss Devereux’s?” - -“Yes, sir. I gathered as how they went to school together. And Miss -Hoyt’s father, sir, died a while back and left her and her mother -very poorly off, sir. And the young lady is employed in a library at -Ellington, as I understand it, sir, and her mother is there, too, sir.” - -“In the library?” - -“No, sir, in Ellington. They used to live in Ohio, I believe.” - -Ethan was silent a moment, smoking furiously. Then, - -“Tell Farrell to come in here at once, Billings. And I’m much obliged -for what you’ve told me. Oh, wait, Billings! Throw another log on the -fire first. I don’t want it to go out; you and I have got lots to talk -about to-night!” - -Farrell came speedily. - -“Do you know where Ellington, Massachusetts, is?” asked Ethan. - -“Yes, sir.” - -“How long a run is it?” - -Farrell produced a road map from his coat pocket and bent over it under -the light. - -“Well, Mr. Parmley, I don’t know how the roads are now, sir, but -supposing they’re in fair condition we’d ought to do it in about two -and half hours.” - -“Then if we left here at seven in the morning we’d get to Ellington by -noon?” - -“Couldn’t help it, sir, barring accidents.” - -“There mustn’t be any accidents,” answered Ethan, a bit unreasonably. - -“I’ll do my best, sir.” - -“Be ready to leave, then, promptly at seven!” - -“Very well, sir.” - -Farrell went out and as the door closed softly behind him Ethan, the -photograph in his hands, threw himself into the chair before the fire -and beamed blissfully at the flames. - -[Illustration] - - - - -XIII. - - -The library was filled with the pallid twilight of a rainy day. Since -early morning the summit of Mount Tom, a dozen miles to the westward, -had been enveloped in ponderous, leaden clouds, and for two hours past -the storm, travelling along the Connecticut Valley, had been deluging -the slopes with autumnal ferocity. - -[Illustration] - -Through the rain-drenched windows a cold white light entered, flooding -the stack room with its iron tiers of slumbering volumes, and, here -at the barrier-like counter, illumining faintly the rebellious brown -hair of the girl who, with pen in hand, bent over the pile of catalogue -cards. The library was very still, so still that the sibilation of -the moving pen sounded portentously loud. Now and then the rustle of -a turning leaf or the scraping of feet on the floor came from around -the corner of the arched doorway where sat a solitary occupant of the -reading room. Save for these two the library was deserted. The hands -of the clock above the commemorative tablet pointed to a quarter past -twelve and the stack-boy and the assistant librarian had both gone to -their luncheons. - -A more prolonged scraping of feet, followed by the sound of a moving -chair, caused the girl at the desk to raise her head and pause at her -work. A little frown of annoyance gathered and then gave place to a -smile of humorous resignation as footfalls sounded on the echoing -silence. From the reading room emerged a tall, thin youth of about -twenty, a youth with a pale, cadaverous face lighted by a pair of -patient, contemplative brown eyes which looked strangely incongruous -and out of place. He carried two books which he laid apologetically on -the counter. - -“Excuse me, Miss Hoyt,” he said gently. - -“Yes, Mr. Winkley?” she asked, looking up. - -“I am very sorry to trouble you, but could you let me have Burton’s -Anatomy of Melancholy?” - -“Have――What did you say, please?” she asked startledly. - -“Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy, please,” he repeated in his patient -voice. She turned hurriedly and disappeared into the stack room. Once -out of sight she leaned against one of the cases and laughed silently -and hysterically. - -“Oh,” she thought, “if he doesn’t stop it and go away I shall have -to――to――I shall go crazy!” - -Presently, with a final gasp, she brushed the back of her hand across -her eyes and went on down the concrete aisle in search of the volume. -Out at the counter, the youth, left to himself, watched her while she -was in sight and then leaned across to peer at the neatly arranged -cards. She had left her handkerchief beside her work. With a timorous -glance about him, he reached forward, picked it up and with a quick, -vehement movement pressed it to his thin, unsmiling lips. He held it so -a moment, his brown eyes staring widely through the rain-bleared window -as though beholding visions. Then, as her steps came back toward him, -he laid the handkerchief again in its place, straightened himself and -waited. - -“Here it is, Mr. Winkley,” she said soberly. - -“Thank you. I am sorry to trouble you,” he answered gravely. - -“It is only what I am here for,” she answered coldly, taking up her -pen once more. He remained for an instant looking at the bent head. -Then, lifting the Anatomy of Melancholy from the counter, he turned and -walked slowly and quite noiselessly back to his table. But as he went -the ghost of a sigh trembled across the silence. - -The girl raised her head with a despairing glance toward the reading -room, jabbed her pen viciously into the ink-stand and went on with -her writing. The clock overhead ticked slowly and softly. The rain -_swished_ past the windows. - -But presently a new sound made itself heard. Dim at first, it grew -insistently until the girl heard it and again lifted her head and -listened with a new light in her violet eyes. - -_Chug-chug, chug-chug-chug, chug-chug!_ - -[Illustration] - -Automobiles are not common in Ellington, especially after the summer -colony departs, and the approach of this one brought a tinge of color -to the soft cheeks and a flutter to the heart of the librarian. So -often during the past three months she had listened with straining ears -to the panting of an automobile on the road below! Usually the sound -had died away again in the distance, and she had told herself, sighing, -that she was very glad. But to-day the sounds increased every instant. -The _chug-chug_ was slower now and more labored; the car had left the -village road and was climbing the circling gravelled drive to the -library. Every beat brought an answering beat from her heart. - -Oh, it was foolish! she told herself angrily. And she didn’t want it -to happen! She hoped it wouldn’t! Resolutely she began her work again, -but the noise of the approaching machine seemed to fill the world -with a tumult of sound. Then, close at hand, the measured _chugs_ -suddenly became hurried and incoherent, as though the intruding monster -was violently incensed at being stopped. Then――silence, appalling, -portentous! With white face the girl bent closer to her desk, her -pen tracing quivering figures and letters. The outer door opened and -closed again with a muffled jar. She heard the _swish ... swish_ of -the inner doors as they swung inward and back. Firm footfalls sounded -on the oaken floor. Very different they were from the soft tread of -the library habitué, and there was a determined, resolute character to -them that put the brown-haired librarian in a panic. Oh, how she wished -that she had fled while there had been time! She no longer doubted; the -unexpected, which all along had been the expected, had happened; the -thing which she had feared, and always hoped for, had come to pass. The -steps came nearer, straight from the doorway, scorning the longer and -quieter paths provided by the cocoa-fibre matting. The brown head still -bent over the desk. Then the footsteps stopped. A terrible silence fell -over the room. There was no help for it. - -Slowly, reluctantly the girl raised her head. - - - - -XIV. - - -Had they lived in the Age of Stone that meeting might have proved far -more interesting for purposes of description. As it was, both being -fairly conventional characters of the Twentieth Century, the affair was -disappointingly commonplace. - -“How do you do, Miss Hoyt?” he asked, smiling calmly and reaching a -hand across the counter. And,―――― - -[Illustration] - -“Why, Mr. Parmley!” she replied, laying her own hand for an instant in -his. - -A close observer, and both you and I, patient reader, pride ourselves -upon being such, would have noticed, perhaps, that in spite of the -commonplace words and the unembarrassed manners, the man’s cheeks -held an unaccustomed tinge of color and the girl’s face was more than -ordinarily pale. And could we have enjoyed a physician’s privilege of -examining the heart-action at that moment we would have straightened -ourselves up with very knowing smiles. - -“I’ve come,” he said, as the soft hand drew itself away from his, “to -return a book. Is this the right place?” - -“Yes,” she replied brightly. - -“Thank you. I don’t know very much about libraries; I always avoid them -as much as possible as being rather too exciting.” He took a small book -from the pocket of his coat and laid it on the counter. “I’m afraid -there’s a good deal to pay on it. It’s been out quite a while.” - -A tinge of color came into her cheeks as she took the volume. It was a -copy of “Love Sonnets from the Portuguese.” - -“Oh, I’ll let you off,” she answered gayly. “We sometimes remit the -fines when the excuse is good.” - -“Thank you. My excuse is excellent. I only yesterday discovered the -identity of the loaner.” - -“Only yesterday?” she asked carelessly, but with quickening heart. - -“To be exact, at about eight o’clock last evening.” He dropped his -voice and leaned a little further across the barrier. “You see, Miss -Hoyt, you fooled me very nicely.” - -“Excuse me, Mr. Parmley, you fooled yourself. I told you――at least, I -never said I was Laura Devereux.” - -“No, you didn’t, but――I wonder why I was so certain you were! If I -hadn’t been――――” - -“I beg your pardon, Miss Hoyt, but will you please let me have -Swinburne’s Poems?” - -It was the solitary reader. The girl disappeared into the stack -room, leaving the two men to a furtive and, on one part at least, -amused examination of each other. The pale youth, however, showed no -amusement; rather his look expressed suspicion and resentment. Ethan, -unable longer to encounter that baleful glare without smiling, turned -his head. Then the librarian came with the desired book. - -“Thank you, Miss Hoyt!” said the reader. With a final glance of dawning -enmity at Ethan he returned to his solitude. Ethan looked inquiringly -at Cicely. - -“He’s perfectly awful!” she replied despairingly. “He stays here hours -and hours at a time. I don’t believe he ever eats anything. And he -calls for books incessantly, from Plutarch’s Lives to――to Swinburne! I -think he is trying to read right through the catalogue. And a while ago -he came for――what do you think?――The Anatomy of Melancholy!” - -Ethan smiled gently. - -“I wouldn’t be too hard on him,” he said. “The poor devil is -head-over-heels in love with you.” - -The phrase brought recollections――and a blush. - -“Nonsense! He’s just a boy!” she answered. - -“Boys sometimes feel pretty deeply――for the while,” he replied. “And -judging from his present line of reading, I’d say that the while hasn’t -passed yet.” - -“It’s so silly and tiresome!” she said. “He gets terribly on my -nerves. He――he sighs――in the most heartbreaking way!” She laughed a -little nervously. Then a moment of silence followed. - -“Clytie,” he began,――“I am going to call you that to-day, for I haven’t -got used to thinking of you as Cicely yet――do you know why I came?” - -“To return the book,” she answered smilingly. - -“No, not altogether. I came to ask you something.” - -“I ought to feel flattered, oughtn’t I? It’s quite a ways here from -Providence, isn’t it?” - -“Supposing we don’t pretend,” he answered gravely. “We’ve gone too -far to make that possible, don’t you think? And I’ve had a beast of -a summer,” he added inconsequently. “I thought――do you know what I -thought, dear?” - -“How should I?” she asked weakly. - -“I thought you were Laura Devereux, and that day when you didn’t come -I went for you and saw you and Vincent on the porch. And afterwards -he told me he was engaged to Miss Devereux, and――don’t you see what -it meant to me? And yesterday I found out, quite by accident, and――” -he reached across and seized her hand with a little laugh of sheer -happiness――“I haven’t slept a wink since! I――I thought I’d never get -here; the roads were quagmires!” - -“Oh, why did you come?” she asked miserably. - -“Why? Good Heaven, don’t you know, girl?” He leaned across and she felt -his lips on the hand still clasped in his. - -“Yes, yes, I know,” she cried. “But――you mustn’t love me! You won’t -when I’ve told you!” - -“Try me!” he said softly. - -“I’m going to. But――I can’t if you have my hand.” - -“If I let it go may I have it again?” he asked playfully. - -“You won’t want it,” was the grim answer. “When you know what I am -really, you――won’t want――ever to see me――again.” - -“That’s nonsense,” he answered stoutly. But a qualm of uneasiness -oppressed him. - -She moved away from the counter until she was out of reach of his -impatient hands. - -[Illustration] - -“I meant you to fall in love with me,” she said evenly, looking at him -with wide eyes and white face. “I meant you to propose to me. I wanted -to――to marry you.” - -He reached impetuously toward her with a smothered word of endearment, -but she held up a hand. - -“Wait! You don’t understand! I――I didn’t care for you. I was tired of -being poor and――and of this!” She swept her glance about the bare and -silent library. “We used to have money,” she went on, speaking rapidly. -“We lived in Ohio then, when father was alive. Then I came east to -college. I met Laura there. We were friends almost at once, although -she was in the class ahead of me. I never finished, for my father -died and left us almost without a cent. I left college and Laura’s -father secured me work here. I studied hard and last year they made me -librarian. Then mother came east to live here with me. Laura was always -kind. When my vacation came I went to visit her there at The Larches. -Then you――I met you.” - -She paused and dropped her gaze. - -“Yes,” he said softly. “And then?” - -“You said you had some property and you――you seemed nice and kind. I -was so weary of it all. I wanted――oh, you know? I wanted to have money, -enough to live decently somewhere else than here in this tomb they call -a town. I didn’t care. I set out to make you――like me. I went back -there to the pool each day for just that, until――――” - -[Illustration] - -“Well? Until?” he urged, smiling across at her. - -“That is all,” she answered. - -“And it was all absolutely mercenary? You never cared for me?” - -“I’ve told you,” she answered. - -“And――that last day, dear? It was the same? You didn’t care then -either?” - -“Oh, what does it matter what happened afterwards?” she cried -agitatedly. “It was what I had done, don’t you see? It was the -meanness, the――the shamefulness of it!” - -“Well, but this ‘afterward’? What of that?” - -“Nothing,” she answered firmly. - -Silence fell for a moment. They looked across at each other steadily, -she meeting his smile defiantly. Then the color crept up from throat to -cheeks and her eyes dropped. - -“Dear,” he said gently, “I don’t care what happened before that -‘afterward.’ I loved you from the first moment, but I’m not going to -resent it if it took you longer to discover my irresistible charms. -Why, hang it all, I’m proud you should have thought me worth marrying -even for my money! But ‘afterward,’ dear? When I kissed you? You -can’t make me believe there was no love then, Cicely. And it is still -‘afterward,’ and it always will be! Dear, Arcadia is waiting for you. -The lotus pool is lonely without you. And so am I, Cicely, Cicely dear!” - -[Illustration] - -“Oh, I knew you would try to forgive me,” she cried miserably. “That is -why I――didn’t want you to come. Because after awhile you would remember -and――――” - -“Cicely!” - -“And you’d hate me!” - -“Cicely! Look at me, dear! I want you to――――” - -Soft footfalls reached them. The pale youth was approaching, his arms -laden with books. Ethan bit his lip and fell silent. - -“I beg your pardon, Miss Hoyt, but would you mind giving me――――” - -Ethan stepped toward him. - -“Here,” he said hurriedly, “here’s just what you’re after. It’s no -trouble at all.” He forced the “Love Sonnets from the Portuguese,” -into the youth’s hands and turned him gently but firmly away from the -counter. The youth looked from the book to Ethan. - -“How――how did you know?” he stammered resentfully. - -“Never mind how, my boy. You’ve got it. Run along.” - -After a moment of indecision, of many silent looks of inquiry and dark -suspicion, the youth trod softly away again. Ethan looked at Cicely -and they smiled together. Then she sank into her chair at the desk and -laughed helplessly, and cried a little, too. And Ethan said no word -until she had pressed the handkerchief to her eyes and turned toward -him again. Then, - -“Will you come back to your lotus pool, O Clytie?” he asked softly. - -“Wouldn’t it be rather cold and damp this weather?” she asked with a -little trembling laugh. - -“I am going to have it steam-heated,” he answered gravely. “I was there -yesterday, Clytie, and it looked very forlorn without you, dear.” - -“You were there?” she asked wonderingly. - -“Yes. I forgot to tell you, didn’t I? The Larches is mine, dear, and -the lotus pool shall be yours for life, if you’ll let me come sometimes -and sit beside you under the trees on the bank. Will you?” - -She dropped her eyes. - -“Will you?” he repeated. - -[Illustration: “WILL YOU?” HE REPEATED.] - -She moved nearer, with lowered head, and laid her hands palms up on the -oaken counter. He took them and drew her toward him. She raised a rosy -face toward him, the violet eyes darting fearfully toward the reading -room. Ethan paused and looked thoughtful. - -“In nice libraries,” he said, “they have what they call the open -stacks. Is it so here?” - -She shook her head. - -“But――there might be exceptions?” - -“There might,” she answered softly. - -“And do you think the librarian would permit me to be an exception?” - -She nodded, blushing and provoking. - -He turned, walked to the end of the counter and pushed aside the -swinging gate. At the door of the stack room he paused. - -“I would like,” he said, “to find that book of mythology wherein are -related the loves of Clytie and Vertumnus. Could you show me where to -find it?” - -She darted a glance toward the entrance to the reading room. Then she -followed him. - -“I believe,” she murmured, as her hand stole into his, “I believe it is -in the farthest corner.” - -Their footfalls died away down the concrete aisle. From the reading -room came the sound of a softly turned leaf. Then the library was very -silent. - -[Illustration] - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes: - - ――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). - - ――Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to - follow the text that they illustrate. - - ――Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected. - - ――Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved. - - ――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Maid in Arcady, by Ralph Henry Barbour - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MAID IN ARCADY *** - -***** This file should be named 60612-0.txt or 60612-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/6/1/60612/ - -Produced by Donald Cummings 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: A Maid in Arcady - -Author: Ralph Henry Barbour - -Illustrator: Frederic J. von Rapp - -Release Date: November 2, 2019 [EBook #60612] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MAID IN ARCADY *** - - - - -Produced by Donald Cummings 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="figcenter" style="width: 580px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="580" height="806" alt="cover" title="cover" /> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noi halftitle">A MAID IN ARCADY</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;"> -<a id="i_frontis"> - <img src="images/i_frontis.jpg" width="374" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_89">“I SHALL WRITE AN ADVERTISEMENT MYSELF,” HE SAID.</a></div> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 363px;"> -<img src="images/title_pg.jpg" width="363" height="600" - alt="title page" title="title page" /> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h1>A MAID IN<br /> -ARCADY</h1> - -<p class="p2 noic">BY</p> - -<p class="noi author">RALPH HENRY BARBOUR</p> - -<p class="noi works">AUTHOR OF “KITTY OF THE ROSES”<br /> -“AN ORCHARD PRINCESS”<br /> -ETC.</p> - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>With Illustrations by</i></p> - -<p class="noi author smcap">FREDERIC J. von RAPP</p> - -<p class="p2 noi adauthor">PHILADELPHIA & LONDON<br /> -J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br /> -1906</p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="noic smcap">Copyright, 1906</p> - -<p class="noic smcap">By J. B. Lippincott Company</p> - -<p class="p2 noic">Published, September, 1906</p> - -<p class="p4 noic"><i>Electrotyped and Printed by<br /> -J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia, U. S. A.</i></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>LIST OF CHAPTERS</h2> - - -<p class="noic"><a href="#I">I.</a><br /> -<a href="#II">II.</a><br /> -<a href="#III">III.</a><br /> -<a href="#IV">IV.</a><br /> -<a href="#V">V.</a><br /> -<a href="#VI">VI.</a><br /> -<a href="#VII">VII.</a><br /> -<a href="#VIII">VIII.</a><br /> -<a href="#IX">IX.</a><br /> -<a href="#X">X.</a><br /> -<a href="#XI">XI.</a><br /> -<a href="#XII">XII.</a><br /> -<a href="#XIII">XIII.</a><br /> -<a href="#XIV">XIV.</a></p> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - - -<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> -<col style="width: 90%;" /> -<col style="width: 10%;" /> -<tr> - <th> </th> - <th class="smfontr">PAGE</th> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_frontis"><span class="smcap">“I shall write an -advertisement myself,” he said</span></a> <span class="flright"><i>Frontispiece</i></span></td> - <td class="tdrb"> </td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_010fp"><span class="smcap">The stream sulked in -a deep, pellucid pool</span></a></td> - <td class="tdrb">10</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_020fp"><span class="smcap">Who would have thought -to find a Grecian goddess under New England skies?</span></a></td> - <td class="tdrb">20</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_022fp"><span class="smcap">Slowly she raised her -white arms</span></a></td> - <td class="tdrb">23</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_052fp"><span class="smcap">“I think I have explained -matters, don’t you?”</span></a></td> - <td class="tdrb">52</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_060fp"><span class="smcap">“I hope you like my -pool?” inquired a voice</span></a></td> - <td class="tdrb">61</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_112fp"><span class="smcap">She was throwing crumbs -of bread to the swans</span></a></td> - <td class="tdrb">113</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_138fp"><span class="smcap">She went to him and -placed her hands on his shoulders</span></a></td> - <td class="tdrb">139</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_212fp"><span class="smcap">“Will you?” he -repeated</span></a></td> - <td class="tdrb">213</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_009_140.jpg" width="600" height="397" - alt="Ethan in a row boat" title="Ethan in a row boat" /> -</div> - - -<p class="nobreak noi title">A MAID IN ARCADY</p> - - -<h2 class="nobreak"><a name="I" id="I">I.</a></h2> -</div> - -<p>The clear water of the little river, -in which the willows were mirrored -quiveringly, shallowed where a tiny -bar of silver-white sand thrust the -ripples aside. Thus confined, <a href="#i_010fp">the -stream sulked for a moment in a deep, -pellucid pool</a>, and then, with sudden -rush and gurgle, swept through a miniature -narrows and swirled about the -naked roots of the willows.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 435px;"> -<a id="i_010fp"> - <img src="images/i_010fp.jpg" width="435" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_9">THE STREAM SULKED IN A DEEP, PELLUCID POOL.</a></div> -</div> - -<p>With a quick plunge of the paddle -Ethan guided the canoe past the -threatening bar. A drooping branch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -swept his face caressingly as the craft -gained the quiet water beyond. Here, -as though repentant of its impatience, -the river loitered and lapped about a -massive granite bowlder, tugging -playfully at the swaying ferns and -tossing scintillant drops upon the velvety -moss. To the left, the fringe of -woodland which, in friendly gossip, -had followed the little river for a quarter -of a mile, parted where a second -stream, scarcely more than a brook, -flowed placidly into the first. Reinforced, -the river widened a little and -went slowly, musically on under the -drooping branches, alternately sun-splashed -and shadowed, until it disappeared -at a distant turn. But the -canoe did not follow. Instead it -rocked lazily by the bowlder, while the -ripples broke gently against its -smooth sides.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> - -<p>To the bole of an old willow which -dropped its leaves in autumn upon the -white sand-bar was nailed a weather-gray -board, on which faded letters -stated:</p> - -<p class="noic">PRIVATE PROPERTY!</p> - -<p class="noic">NO TRESPASSING!</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 389px;"> -<img src="images/i_011_031.jpg" width="389" height="600" - alt="NO TRESSPASSING" title="NO TRESSPASSING" /> -</div> - -<p>Ethan observed the warning meditatively. -In view of his later course -of action let us credit him with that -hesitation. At length, with a faint -smile on his face, he turned the nose -of the canoe toward the smaller -stream and his back to the sign.</p> - -<p>To have observed him one would -scarcely have believed him capable of -deliberately committing the dire crime -of trespass. There was something -about his good-looking face which bespoke -honesty. At least, it would have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -been difficult to credit him with underhand -methods; it seemed easier to believe -that if he ever did commit a -crime it would be in such a superbly -open and above-board fashion as to -rob it of half its iniquity. Not that -there was anything of classical beauty -about his face. His eyes were a shade -of brown, his nose was perhaps a -trifle too short to reach the standard -of the Grecians, his mouth, unhidden -by any mustache, did not to -any great extent suggest a Cupid’s -bow. His chin was aggressive. For -the rest, he had the usual allowance -of hair of a not uncommon shade of -brown, and showed, when he laughed -which was by no means infrequently—a -set of very white and very capable -looking teeth. And yet I reiterate my -former adjective; good-looking he -was; good-looking in a healthy, frank,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -happy and rather boyish way that was -eminently satisfying.</p> - -<p>If the sign on the old willow was -right, and he really was trespassing, -I have no excuse to offer, or at least -none that my conscience will allow me -to suggest. I can’t plead ignorance -for him, for the simple reason that he -had seen the sign and read it and that -he knew all about trespass—or as -much as was taught in the three-year -course at the Harvard Law School, -which he had finished barely a fortnight -ago.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile he has been sending the -canoe quietly along the winding water -path, dipping the paddle with easy, -rhythmic swings of his shoulders, -pushing the blade astern through the -clear water and swinging it, flashing -and dripping, back for the next stroke. -He had tossed his light cloth cap into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -the bottom of the canoe and had laid -his coat over a thwart. The summer -morning sunlight, slanting through -the branches, wove quickly vanishing -patterns in gold upon his brown hair. -The tiny breeze, just a mere breath -from the southwest, fragrant with the -odor of damp, sun-warmed soil and -greenery, stirred the sheer white shirt -he wore and laid it in folds under the -raised arm.</p> - -<p>The brook was rather shallow; -everywhere the pebbled bottom was -visible. It was a whimsical brook, -full of sudden turns and twistings; -rounding tiny promontories of alder -and sheepberry, dipping into quiet -bays where bush honeysuckles were -dripping sweetness from their pale -yellow funnels, skirting curving -beaches of white sand where standing -armies of purple flags held themselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> -stiffly at attention and restrained -the invasion of the eager, -swaying fern-rabble.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 599px;"> -<img src="images/i_014.jpg" width="599" height="600" alt="the brook" title="the brook" /> -</div> - -<p>He had gone several hundred yards -by this time against the slow current, -and now there was evident a change -in the foliage lining the banks, even -in the banks themselves. Artifice had -aided nature. Pink and white and yellow -lilies dotted the stream, while at -a little distance a slender, graceful -stone bridge arched from shore to -shore. Woodbine clustered about it -and threw cool, trembling leaf-shadows -against the sunlit stones. The -arch framed a charming vista of the -brook beyond. The canoe slipped -noiselessly under the bridge and the -strip of shadow rested gratefully for -an instant on Ethan’s face. On the -left there was a momentary break in -the foliage and a brief glimpse of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -wide expanse of velvety turf. Then -another turn, the canoe brushing aside -the broad lily-pads, and the end of the -journey had come, and, sitting with -motionless paddle, he gazed spellbound.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 316px;"> -<img src="images/i_016.jpg" width="316" height="600" - alt="foliage" title="foliage" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="II" id="II">II.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>The banks of the stream fell suddenly -away on either side and the -canoe glided slowly and softly into a -miniature lake. It was perhaps twenty -yards across at its widest place -and much more than that in length. -Occasionally a far-reaching branch -threw trembling shadows on the -water, but for the most part the trees -stood back from the margin of the -pool and allowed the fresh green turf -to descend unhampered to the water’s -edge. At a point farthest from where -Ethan had entered a little cascade -tumbled. On all sides the ground<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -sloped slightly upward, and in one -place a group of larches crowned the -summit of a knoll and mingled their -delicate branches far above the neighboring -maples. Almost concealed -among them an uncertain gleam of -white caught at moments through the -trees to the right suggested a building -of some sort—perhaps the marble -temple of the divinity, who, seated on -the bank with her bare sandaled feet -crossed before her, observed the intruder -with calm, dreamy, almost smiling -unconcern.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_017_144.jpg" width="600" height="312" - alt="Ethan in the lake" title="Ethan in the lake" /> -</div> - -<div class="figrighttop" style="width: 139px;"> -<img src="images/i_019top.jpg" width="139" height="465" - alt="lakeside" title="lakeside" /> -</div> - -<div class="figrightbottom" style="width: 345px;"> -<img src="images/i_019bottom.jpg" width="345" height="135" - alt="lakeside" title="lakeside" /> -</div> - -<p>It was a beautiful scene into which -Ethan had floated. Overhead was a -blue sky against which a few soft -white clouds hung seemingly motionless -as though, like Narcissus, they -had become enamored of their reflections -in the pool there below. On a -tiny islet in the pool, dwarf willows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -caressed the water with the tips of -their pendulous branches. Further on a -trio of white swans sunned themselves, -and about the margin the bosom of -the pool was carpeted with lily-pads -and starred with a multitude of fragrant -blooms, white, rose-hued, carmine, -pale violet, sulphur-colored -and blue. The gauze wings of darting -dragon-flies caught the sunlight, insects -hovered above the flower-cups -and in the branches around many a -feathered cantatrice was singing her -heart out. And for background there -was always the varied green of encircling -trees.</p> - -<p>Yes, it was very beautiful, but -Ethan had no eyes for it. With paddle -still suspended between gunwale -and water he was staring in a fashion -at once depicting surprise, curiosity, -and admiration at the figure on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -grass. And what wonder? <a href="#i_020fp">Who -would have thought to find a Grecian -goddess under New England skies?</a> -Ethan’s thoughts leaped back to mythology -and he sought a name for her. -Diana? Minerva? Venus? Iris? -Penelope?</p> - -<p>And all the while—a very little -while despite the telling—his eyes -ranged from the sandaled feet to the -warm brown hair with its golden fillet. -A single garment of gleaming white -reached from the feet to the shoulders -where it was caught together on either -side with a metal clasp. The arms -were bare, youthfully slender, aglow -in the sunlight. And yet it was to the -eyes that his gaze returned each time. -“Minerva!” his thoughts triumphed, -“‘Minerva, goddess azure-eyed!’” -And yet in the next instant he knew -that while her eyes were undeniably<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -blue she was no wise Minerva. Such -youthful softness belonged rather to -Iris or Daphne or Syrinx.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<a id="i_020fp"> - <img src="images/i_020fp.jpg" width="600" height="413" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_20">WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT TO FIND A GRECIAN GODDESS UNDER NEW ENGLAND SKIES?</a></div> -</div> - -<p>And all the while—just the little -time it took for the canoe to glide -from the stream well into the pool—she -had been regarding him tranquilly -with her deep blue eyes, her bare arms, -stretching downward to the grass, -supporting her in an attitude suggesting -recent recumbency. And now, as -the craft brushed the lily-pads aside, -she spoke.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 236px;"> -<img src="images/i_022.jpg" width="236" height="600" - alt="Clytie" title="Clytie" /> -</div> - -<p>“Do you not fear the resentment -of the gods?” she asked gravely. -“It is not wise for a mortal to look -upon us.”</p> - -<p>“I crave your mercy, O fair goddess,” -he answered. “Blame rather -this tiny argosy of mine which, propelled -by hands invisible, has brought -me hither. I doubt not that the gods<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -hold me in enchantment.” He mentally -patted himself on the back; it -wasn’t so bad for an impromptu!</p> - -<p>She leaned forward and sunk her -chin in the cup of one small hand, -viewing him intently as though pondering -his words.</p> - -<p>“It may be so,” she answered presently. -“What call you your frail -vessel?”</p> - -<p>“From this hour, Good Fortune.” -Her gaze dropped.</p> - -<p>“Will you deign to tell me your -name, O radiant goddess?” he continued. -She raised her eyes again and -he thought a little smile played for a -moment over her red lips.</p> - -<p>“I am Clytie,” she answered, “a -water-nymph. I dwell in this pool. -And you, how are you called?”</p> - -<p>He answered readily and gravely: -“I am Vertumnus, clad thus in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -mortal guise that I may gain the presence -of Pomona. Long have I wooed -her, O Nymph of the Pool.”</p> - -<p>“I too love unrequited,” she answered -sadly. “Apollo has my heart. -Though day by day I watch him drive -his fiery chariot across the heavens -he sees me not.”</p> - -<p>She arose and turned her face upward -to the sun. <a href="#i_022fp">Slowly she raised -her white arms</a> and stretched them -forth in tragic appeal.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 459px;"> -<a id="i_022fp"> - <img src="images/i_022fp.jpg" width="459" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_23">SLOWLY SHE RAISED HER WHITE ARMS.</a></div> -</div> - -<p>“Apollo!” she cried. “Apollo! -Hear me! Clytie calls to you!”</p> - -<p>Such a passion of melancholy longing -spoke in her voice that Ethan -thrilled in spite of himself. Unconsciously -his gaze followed hers to the -blazing orb. The light dazzled his -eyes and blinded him for a moment. -When he looked again toward the bank -it was empty, but between the trees,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -along the slope, a white garment fluttered -and was lost to sight.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 491px;"> -<img src="images/i_024.jpg" width="491" height="600" - alt="Clytie walking along the slope" title="Clytie walking along the slope" /> -</div> - -<p>“Clytie!” he called in sudden dismay. -And again.</p> - -<p>“Clytie!”</p> - -<p>A wood-thrush in a nearby tree -burst into golden melody. But Clytie -answered not.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="III" id="III">III.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>The Roadside Inn at Riverdell -sprawls its white length along the old -post-road over which many years ago -the coaches swayed and rattled between -New York and Boston. The -Roadside, known in those days as Peppit’s -Tavern, has changed but little. -The front room over the porch, has -held notable guests: Washington, -Hancock, Adams, Lafayette and many -more. On the tap-room windows you -may still find the diamond-etched initials -of by-gone celebrities. And much -of the old-time atmosphere remains.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_025.jpg" width="600" height="304" - alt="Roadside Inn" title="Roadside Inn" /> -</div> - -<p>The room into which Ethan had his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -bag taken after his return from his -adventure in Arcady was low-ceilinged -and dim. The two small windows, -one overlooking the dilapidated -orchard at the rear and the little river -beyond, the other revealing the murmuring -depths of a big elm, afforded -little light. The floor was delightfully -uneven; Ethan went downhill to the -washstand and uphill again to the old -mahogany bureau. The wide fire-place -held a pair of antique andirons -coveted by many a visitor, and the -narrow shelf above was adorned with -an equally desirable brass candlestick -and a couple of opaque white glass -vases which, ancient as they were, -post-dated the shelf itself by half a -hundred years. The bedstead, of mahogany, -with rolling footboard, had -made concessions to modernity. The -pegs along the side, from which ropes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -had once been stretched, remained, but -an up-to-date wire spring and hair -mattress had superseded the olden -furnishings.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 136px;"> -<img src="images/i_026_175.jpg" width="136" height="600" - alt="brass candlestick" title="brass candlestick" /> -</div> - -<p>Ethan lighted a cigarette, unstrapped -his bag and took out a leathern -portfolio. With this on his knee, -he sat at one of the open windows and -scrawled a note.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 183px;"> -<img src="images/i_028.jpg" width="183" height="600" - alt="big blue touring car" title="big blue touring car" /> -</div> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Dear Vin, I am sending my man Farrell on -to you with the machine with orders to place it -at your disposal. Make what use you can of -it. I think it is all right now, though it went -back on us this morning about two miles north -of here. Funny place for it to bust, wasn’t -it; looks as though it meant me to pay a visit -here, eh? Well, I’m humoring it. I’ve decided -to stay here for a day or two at the Roadside. -I want to brush up a bit on mythology. Very -interesting subject, mythology, Vin. Just when -I’ll follow the machine I can’t say yet; possibly -in a day or two. Make my excuses to your -mother and sisters; invent any old story you -like. You might say, for instance, that Vertumnus, -fickle god, has transferred his affections<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -from Pomona to a water-nymph. But -you needn’t if you’d rather not. I don’t care -what you say. Expect me when you see me.</p> - -<p class="noic">“Yours,</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Ethan</span>.”<br /></p> -</div> - -<p>With a smile as he thought of his -friend’s perplexity on reading the -note, Ethan folded it and tucked it -into an envelope. Then addressing it -to “Mr. Vincent Graves, The Boulders, -Stillhaven, Mass.,” he sealed it, -dropped it into his pocket and made -his way downstairs to dinner.</p> - -<p>After dinner a big blue touring-car -chugged its way southward along the -shaded road, with Farrell at the wheel -and Ethan’s note in Farrell’s pocket. -Ethan watched it disappear. Then, -drawing a chair to the edge of the -porch, he set himself in it, put his -heels on the railing, stuffed his hands -into his pockets and asked himself with -a puzzled smile why he had done it.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="IV" id="IV">IV.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>The grass grew tall and lush under -the gnarled old apple-trees back of -the Inn, and the straggling footpath -which led to the landing was a path -only in name. By the time he had -gained the river Ethan’s immaculate -white shoes were slate-colored with -dew. The canoe rested on two poles -laid from crotches of the apple trees, -which overhung the stream. Ethan -lifted it down and dropped it into the -water. With paddle in hand he stepped -in and pushed off down-stream.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_029_113.jpg" width="600" height="177" - alt="river back of the Inn" title="river back of the Inn" /> -</div> - -<p>On his left the orchard and garden -of the Inn marched with him for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -way, giving place at length to a neck -of woodland. On his right, seen between -the twisted willows, stretched -a pleasant view of meadows and tilled -fields in the foreground, and, beyond, -the gently rising hills, wooded save -where along the base the encroaching -grasslands rose and dipped. A couple -of sleepy-looking farmhouses were -nestled in the middle-distance and the -faint <em>whir-r-r</em> of a mowing machine -floated across the meadows. In the -high grass daisies were sprinkled as -thickly as stars in the Milky Way, and -buttercups thrust their tiny golden -bowls above the pendulous plumes of -the timothy, foxtail, and fescue. The -blue-eyed grass, too, was all abloom, -like miniatures of the blue flags which -congregated wherever the spring -floods had inundated the meadows.</p> - -<p>The sand-bar came in sight and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -little river began to fuss and fret as -it gathered itself for what it doubtless -believed to be an awe-inspiring rush. -The canoe bobbed gracefully through -the rapids and swung about in the -pool below. Ethan winked soberly at -the sign on the willow tree and dipped -his paddle again. The canoe breasted -the lazy current of the brook.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 389px;"> -<img src="images/i_011_031.jpg" width="389" height="600" - alt="NO TRESPASSING" title="NO TRESPASSING" /> -</div> - -<p>It was just such a day as yesterday. -The little breeze stirred the rushes -along the banks and brought odors -of honeysuckle. Fleecy white clouds -seemed to float on the unshadowed -stretches of the stream. On one side -a sudden blur of deep pink marked -where a wild azalea was ablossom. -Again, a glimpse of white showed a -viburnum sprinkling the ground with -its tiny blooms. Cinnamon ferns were -pushing their pale bronze “fiddle-heads” -into the air. Now and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -a wood lily displayed a tardy blossom. -Near the stone bridge a kingfisher -darted downward to the brook, broke -its surface into silver spray and arose -on heavy wing.</p> - -<p>Once past the bridge and with only -a single winding of the brook between -him and the lotus pool, Ethan trailed -his paddle for a moment while he -asked himself whether he really expected -to find the girl waiting for him. -Of course he didn’t, only—well, there -was just a chance——! Nonsense; -there was not the ghost of a chance! -Oh, very well; at least there was no -harm in his paddling to the lotus pool—barring -that he was trespassing! -He smiled at that. He smiled at it -several times, for some reason or -other. Then he dipped his paddle -again and sent the “Good Fortune” -gliding swiftly over the sunlit water<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -of the pond. And when he looked -there she was, seated on the bank, just -as—and he realized it now—he had -expected all along that she would be!</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_033.jpg" width="600" height="415" - alt="Clytie on the bank" title="Clytie on the bank" /> -</div> - -<p>But it was not Clytie he saw; not -unless the fashions have changed considerably -and water-nymphs may -wear with perfect propriety white -shirtwaist suits and tan shoes. It was -not impossible, he reasoned; for all -he knew to the contrary, the July number -of the Goddesses’ Home Journal—doubtless -edited by Minerva—might -prescribe just such garments for informal -morning wear. At all events, -being less <em>bizarre</em> than the flowing -peplum of yesterday, Ethan—whose -tastes in attire were quite orthodox—liked -it far better. The effect was -quite different, too. Yesterday she -might have been Clytie; to-day reason -cried out against any such possibility;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -she was a very modern-appearing and -extremely charming young lady of, apparently, -twenty or twenty-one years -of age, with a face, at present seen in -profile, piquant rather than beautiful. -The nose was small and delicate, the -mouth, under a short lip, had the least -bit of a pout and the chin was softly -round and sensitive. This morning -she wore her hair in a pompadour, -while at the back the thick braids -started low on her neck and coiled -around and around in a perfectly delightful -and absolutely puzzling fashion. -Ethan liked her hair immensely. -It was light brown, with coppery tones -where the sunlight became entangled. -She was seated on the sloping bank, -her hands clasped about her knees -and her gaze turned dreamily toward -the cascade which sparkled and tinkled -at the upper curve of the pool. As the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -canoe had made almost no sound in its -approach, she was, of course, ignorant -of Ethan’s presence. And yet it may -be mentioned as an interesting if -unimportant fact that as he gazed -at her for the space of half a minute -a rosy tinge, all unobserved of -him, crept into her cheeks. He -laid his paddle softly across the canoe, -and,——</p> - -<p>“Greetings, O Clytie!” he said.</p> - -<p>She turned to him startledly. A little -smile quivered about her lips.</p> - -<p>“Good morning, Vertumnus,” she -answered. Perhaps his gaze showed -a trifle too much interest, for after -a brief instant hers stole away. He -picked up the paddle and moved the -canoe closer to the shore.</p> - -<p>“I’m very glad to find you have -not yet taken root,” he said gravely.</p> - -<p>“Taken root?” she echoed vaguely.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, for that was your fate at the -last, wasn’t it? If I am not mistaken -you sat for days on the ground, subsisting -on your tears and watching -the sun cross the heavens, until at last -your limbs became rooted to the -ground and you just naturally turned -into a sunflower. At least, that’s the -way I recollect it.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, but you shouldn’t tell me what -my fate is to be,” she answered smilingly.</p> - -<p>“Forearmed is forewarned; no, I -mean the other way around!” he replied. -“Maybe if you just keep your -feet moving you’ll escape that fate. -It would be awfully uncomfortable, I -should say! Besides, pardon me if -it sounds rude, sunflowers are such -unattractive things, don’t you think -so?”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_036.jpg" width="600" height="252" - alt="lily pads" title="lily pads" /> -</div> - -<p>“Yes, I’m afraid they are. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -fate of Daphne or Lotis or Syrinx -would be much nicer.”</p> - -<p>“What happened to them, please?”</p> - -<p>“Why, Daphne was changed to a -laurel; have you forgotten?”</p> - -<p>“No, but how about the other -ladies?”</p> - -<p>“Lotis became a lotus and Syrinx a -clump of reeds. Pan gathered some -and made himself pipes to play on.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘Poor nymph!—Poor Pan!—how he did weep to find<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Naught but a lovely sighing of the wind<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Along the reedy stream; a half-heard strain<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Full of sweet desolation—balmy pain.’”<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>“Shelley, for a dollar,” he said -questioningly.</p> - -<p>She shook her head smilingly. -“Keats,” she corrected.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I have a way of getting them -mixed, those two chaps.” He paused. -“Do you know, it sounds odd nowadays<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -to hear anyone quote poetry?”</p> - -<p>“I suppose it does; I dare say it -sounds very silly.”</p> - -<p>“Not a bit of it! I like it! I wish -I could do it myself. All I know, -though, is</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“‘The Lady Jane was tall and slim,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The Lady Jane was fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And Sir Thomas, my lord, was stout of limb,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But his breath was short, and——’<br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p class="noi">and so on. I used to recite that at -school when I was a youngster; knew -it all through; and I think there were -five or six pages of it. I was quite -proud of that, and used to stand on the -platform Saturday mornings and just -gallop it off. I think the humor appealed -to me.”</p> - -<p>“It must have been delightful!” -she laughed. “But you haven’t got -even that quite right!”</p> - -<p>“Haven’t I? I dare say.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, Sir Thomas was <em>her</em> lord, not -<em>my</em> lord, and it was his cough that was -short instead of his breath.”</p> - -<p>“Shows that my memory is failing -at last,” he answered. “But, tell -me, do you know every piece of poetry -ever written?”</p> - -<p>“No, not so many. I happen to remember -that, though. Besides, we -dwellers on Olympus hold poetry in -rather more respect than you mortals.”</p> - -<p>“You forget that I am Vertumnus,” -he answered haughtily.</p> - -<p>“Of course! And you puzzled me -with that yesterday, too. I had to go -home and hunt up a dictionary of -mythology to see who Vertumnus -was.”</p> - -<p>“I—I trust you found him fairly -respectable?” he asked. “To tell -the truth, I don’t recollect very much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> -about him myself; and some of those -old chaps were—well, a bit rapid.”</p> - -<p>“Vertumnus was quite respectable,” -she replied. “In fact, he was -quite a dear, the way he slaved to win -Pomona. I never cared very much -about Pomona,” she added frankly.</p> - -<p>“I—I never knew her very well,” -he answered carelessly.</p> - -<p>“I think she was a stick.”</p> - -<p>“You forget,” he said gently, -“that you are speaking of the lady -of my affections.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I am so sorry!” she cried -contritely. “Please forgive me!”</p> - -<p>“If you will let me smoke a cigarette.”</p> - -<p>“Why not? Considering that I am -on shore and you on the water it hardly -seems necessary——”</p> - -<p>“Well, of course it’s your own private -pool,” he said. “I thought perhaps<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -nymphs objected to the odor of -cigarette-smoke around their habitations.”</p> - -<p>“This nymph doesn’t mind it,” she -answered.</p> - -<p>He selected a cigarette from his -case very leisurely. He had had several -opportunities to see her eyes and -was wondering whether they were -really the color they seemed to be. -He had thought yesterday that they -were blue, like the sky, or a Yale flag -or—or the ocean in October; in short -just <em>blue</em>. But to-day, seen from a -distance of some fifteen feet, and examined -carefully, they appeared quite -a different hue, a—a violet, or—or -mauve. He wasn’t sure just what -mauve was, but he thought it might be -the color of her eyes. At all events, -they weren’t merely blue; they were -something quite different, far more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -wonderful, and infinitely more beautiful. -He would look again just as soon -as he had the cigarette lighted, -and——</p> - -<p>“Were you surprised to find me -here this morning?” she asked suddenly. -There was no hint of coquetry -in her tone and he stifled the first reply -occurring to him.</p> - -<p>“I—no, I wasn’t—for some reason,” -he answered honestly. “I dare -say I ought to have been.”</p> - -<p>“I came on purpose to meet you,” -she said calmly.</p> - -<p>“Er—thank you—that is——!”</p> - -<p>“I wanted to explain about yesterday. -You see I didn’t want you to -think I was just simply insane. There -was—method in my madness.”</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 311px;"> -<img src="images/i_042_143.jpg" width="311" height="600" - alt="foliage" title="foliage" /> -</div> - -<p>“But I didn’t think you insane,” he -denied, depositing the burnt match -carefully on a lily-pad and raising his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -gaze to hers. “I thought—that——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, go on,” she prompted. -“Tell me what you did think when -you found me here in that—that -<em>thing</em>!”</p> - -<p>“I thought I was in Arcadia and -that you were just what you said you -were, a water-nymph.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” she murmured disappointedly; -“I thought you were really -going to tell me the truth.”</p> - -<p>“I will, then. Frankly, I didn’t -know what to think. You said you -were Clytie, and far be it from me to -question a lady’s word. I was -stumped. I tried to work it out yesterday -afternoon and couldn’t, and so -I came back to-day in the hope that -I might have the good fortune to see -you again.”</p> - -<p>“It was rather silly,” she answered. -“And I ought to have run<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -away when I saw your canoe coming. -But it was so unexpected and sudden, -and I was bored and—and I wondered -what you would look like when I told -you I was a water-nymph!” She -laughed softly. “Only,” she went on -in a moment, with grievance in her -tones, “you didn’t look at all surprised! -I might just as well have -said ‘I am Mary Smith’ or—or -‘Laura Devereux!’”</p> - -<p>(“Aha!” quoth Ethan to himself, -“I am learning.”)</p> - -<p>“You were very disappointing,” -she concluded severely.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry, really. I realize now -that I should have displayed astonishment -and awe. Perhaps if you had -said you were Laura—Laura Devereux, -was it?—I would have really -shown some emotion.”</p> - -<p>“Why?” she questioned.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Well, don’t you think—Laura, -now, is—I’m afraid I can’t just explain.” -He was watching her intently. -She was studying her clasped -hands. “I suppose what I meant was -that Laura is such an attractive name, -so—so musical, so melodious! And -then coupled with Devereux it is even—even—er—more -so!”</p> - -<p>“Is it?” She didn’t look at him -and her tone was almost icy.</p> - -<p>(“I fancy that’ll hold you for -awhile,” he said to himself. “My -boy, you’re inclined to be a little too -fresh; cut it out!”)</p> - -<p>“I never thought Laura especially -melodious,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you are prejudiced,” he -suggested amiably.</p> - -<p>“Why should I be?” she asked, observing -him calmly. He hesitated and -paid much attention to his cigarette.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, no reason at all, I suppose,” -he answered finally. He looked up in -time to surprise a little mocking smile -in her eyes. Nonsense! He’d show -her that she couldn’t bluff him down -like that! “To be honest,” he continued, -“what I meant was that some -folks take a dislike to their own -names; in which case they are scarcely -impartial judges.” He looked -across at her challengingly. She returned -the look serenely.</p> - -<p>“So you think that is my name?” -she asked.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see why you should think -so,” she parried. “I might have -found it in a novel. I’m sure it sounds -like a name out of a novel.”</p> - -<p>“But you haven’t denied it,” he -insisted.</p> - -<p>“I don’t intend to,” she replied,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -the little tantalizing smile quivering -again at the corners of her mouth. -“Besides, I have already told you -that my name is Clytie.”</p> - -<p>He tossed the remains of his cigarette -toward where one of the swans -was paddling about. The long neck -writhed snake-like and the bill disappeared -under the water. Then with -an insulted air and an angry bob of -the tail, the swan turned her back -on Ethan and sailed hurriedly back -to her family.</p> - -<p>“I understand,” he said. “I will -try not to forget hereafter that this is -Arcadia, that you are Clytie and that -I am Vertumnus.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Vertumnus,” she -said. “And now I must tell you what -I came here to tell. You must know, -sir, that I am not in the habit of sitting -around on the grass in broad daylight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -dressed—as I was yesterday. -If I did I should probably catch -cold. Yesterday morning we—a friend -and I—dressed up in costume and -took each other’s pictures up there -under the trees. Afterwards the fancy -took me to come down here and—and -‘make believe.’ And then you -popped on to the scene all of a -sudden.”</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 410px;"> -<img src="images/i_048.jpg" width="410" height="600" - alt="Clytie" title="Clytie" /> -</div> - -<p>“I see. Very rude of me, I’m sure. -Of course, as we are in Arcady, and -you are a nymph and I a—a god, I -don’t understand at all what you are -talking about; but I <em>would</em> like to see -those pictures!”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid you never will,” she -laughed.</p> - -<p>“I’m not so sure,” he said thoughtfully. -“Strange things happen in—Arcady.”</p> - -<p>“Weren’t you the least bit surprised<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -when you saw me? And when -I—acted so silly?”</p> - -<p>“I certainly was! Really, for a -while—especially after you had gone—I -was half inclined to think that I -had been dreaming. You did it rather -well, you know,” he added admiringly.</p> - -<p>“Did I?” She seemed pleased. -“Didn’t it sound terribly foolish -when I spouted that about Apollo?”</p> - -<p>“Not a bit! I—I half expected the -sun to do something when you raised -your hands to it; I don’t know just -what; wink, perhaps, or have an -eclipse.”</p> - -<p>“You’re making fun of me!” she -said dolefully.</p> - -<p>“But I am not, truly! However, I -don’t think you treated your audience -very nicely. To get me sun-blind and -then steal away wasn’t kind. When -I looked around you had simply disappeared,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -as though by magic, and I—” -he shivered uncomfortably—“I felt a -bit funny for a moment.”</p> - -<p>“Really?” She positively beamed -on him, and Ethan felt a sudden -warmth at his heart. “I suppose -every person has a sneaking desire to -act,” she went on. “I know I have. -Ever since I was a little girl I’ve loved -to—to ‘make believe.’ That’s why I -did it yesterday.”</p> - -<p>“Have you ever considered a stage -career?” he asked gravely. She -leaned her chin in one small palm and -observed him doubtfully.</p> - -<p>“I never seem to know for certain,” -she complained, “whether you -are making fun of me or not. And I -don’t like to be made fun of—especially -by——”</p> - -<p>“Strangers? I don’t blame you, Miss—Clytie. -I wouldn’t like it myself.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - -<p>She continued to study him perplexedly, -a little frown above her -somewhat impertinent nose. Ethan -smiled composedly back. He enjoyed -it immensely. The sunlight made -strange little golden blurs in her eyes. -They were very beautiful eyes; he -realized it thoroughly; and he didn’t -care how long she allowed him to look -into them like this. Only, well, it was -a bit disquieting to a chap. He could -imagine that invisible wires led from -those violet orbs of hers straight down -to his heart. Otherwise how account -for the tingling glow that was pervading -the latter? Not that it was unpleasant; -on the contrary——</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon?” he stammered.</p> - -<p>“I merely said that I had no idea -of the stage,” she replied distantly, -dropping her gaze.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh!” He paused. It took him -a moment to get the sense of what -she had said through his brain. -Plainly, Arcadian air possessed a -quality not contained in ordinary -ether, and its effect was strangely -deranging to the senses. “Oh!” he -repeated presently, “I am glad you -haven’t. I shouldn’t want you to—er——”</p> - -<p>But that didn’t appear to be just -the right thing to say, judging from -the sudden expression of reserve -which settled over her countenance. -Ethan shook himself awake.</p> - -<p>“It is time for me to go,” she said, -getting to her feet. Ethan made an -absurdly futile motion toward assisting -her. <a href="#i_052fp">“I think I have explained -matters, don’t you?”</a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 427px;"> -<a id="i_052fp"> - <img src="images/i_052fp.jpg" width="427" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_52">“I THINK I HAVE EXPLAINED MATTERS, DON’T YOU?”</a></div> -</div> - -<p>“You have explained,” he answered -judicially, “but there is much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -more that would bear, that even demands -elucidation.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see that there is,” she replied -a trifle coldly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, of course, if you prefer to -have me place my own interpretation -on—things——!”</p> - -<p>“What things?” she demanded -curiously.</p> - -<p>“What things?” he repeated -vaguely. “Oh, why—er—lots,” he -ended lamely.</p> - -<p>She turned her back.</p> - -<p>“Good morning,” she said.</p> - -<p>He took a desperate resolve.</p> - -<p>“Good morning. Now that I know -who you are——”</p> - -<p>“You don’t know who I am!” she -retorted, facing him defiantly.</p> - -<p>“Pardon me, but——”</p> - -<p>“I didn’t say my name was—that!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> - -<p>“And I know more besides,” he -added mysteriously.</p> - -<p>“You don’t!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, very well.” He smiled superiorly.</p> - -<p>“How could you?”</p> - -<p>“You forget that we gods have -powers of——”</p> - -<p>“Oh! Well, tell me, then.”</p> - -<p>“Not to-day,” he answered gently. -“To-morrow, perhaps.”</p> - -<p>He raised his paddle and turned the -canoe about.</p> - -<p>“But you will not see me to-morrow,” -she said, stifling the smile that -threatened to mar her severity.</p> - -<p>“You are not thinking of leaving -Arcady?” he asked in surprise. -“Where, pray, could you find a -more delightful pool than this? -Observe those swans! Observe the -lilies! Besides, even in Arcady one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> -doesn’t move so late in the season.”</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 319px;"> -<img src="images/i_054.jpg" width="319" height="600" - alt="pool with swan" title="pool with swan" /> -</div> - -<p>She regarded him for a moment -with intense gravity. Then,</p> - -<p>“You really think so?” she asked -musingly.</p> - -<p>“I really do.”</p> - -<p>He waited, wondering at himself -for caring so much about her decision. -At last,</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you are right,” she said. -“Good morning.”</p> - -<p>“And I, shall see you to-morrow?” -he cried eagerly.</p> - -<p>She turned under the first tree. -The green shadows played over her -hair and dappled her white gown with -tremulous silhouettes.</p> - -<p>“That,” she laughed softly, tantalizingly, -“is in the hands of the -gods.”</p> - -<p>Her dress showed here and there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -through the trees for a moment and -then was lost to sight. Ethan heaved -a sigh. Then he smiled. Then he -seized the paddle and shot the canoe -toward the outlet.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 470px;"> -<img src="images/i_056.jpg" width="470" height="600" - alt="the river" title="the river" /> -</div> - -<p>“Well,” he muttered, “I know -how this god will vote!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="V" id="V">V.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>Ethan laid aside his paddle and -mopped his face with his handkerchief. -The canoe, left to its own devices, -poked its nose against the -meadow bank and allowed its stern to -float slowly around in the languid current. -He gazed across the fields over -which the heat-waves danced and -shimmered and addressed himself to -his cigarette case.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 495px;"> -<img src="images/i_057_161.jpg" width="495" height="600" - alt="meadow along the bank" title="meadow along the bank" /> -</div> - -<p>“Providence,” he said, “showed -great wisdom when it arranged that -the Pilgrims should land on the coast -of Massachusetts. ‘From what I’ve -seen of these folks and what I’ve -heard about them,’ says Providence, -‘I don’t believe they’re going to be -much of an acquisition to the New<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -World. But I’ll give ’em a fair show. -I’ll see that they land at Plymouth -and if they can survive a Massachusetts -winter <em>and</em> a Massachusetts summer -I’ll have nothing more to say. -Those of them alive a year from now -will be entitled to prizes in the Endurance -Test and will have qualified -to become Hardy Pioneers and build -up the country.’”</p> - -<p>He mopped his face again, lighted a -cigarette and took up his paddle.</p> - -<p>“One would think that this state -might show moderation at some -season of the year,” he added disgustedly. -“But not content with her -Old Fashioned Winters, Backward -Springs and Early Falls she has to -try and wrest the Hot Weather blue -ribbon from Arizona! No wonder -they say a Bostonian isn’t contented -in Heaven; doubtless he finds the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -weather frightfully equable and monotonous!”</p> - -<p>He righted the canoe and went on, -with a glance at the sky above the -hills.</p> - -<p>“We’re probably in for a jolly -good thunder-storm this afternoon,” -he muttered.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_059.jpg" width="600" height="313" - alt="more river" title="more river" /> -</div> - -<p>By the time he had reached the entrance -to the brook his forehead was -again beaded with perspiration and -his thin negligée shirt showed a disposition -to cling to his shoulders. It -was one of those intensely hot and exceedingly -humid days which the early -summer so often visits upon New England. -Even the birds seemed to feel -the heat and instead of singing and -darting about across the shadowed -stream were content to flutter and -chirp drowsily amidst the branches. -The hum of the insects held a lethargic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -tone that somehow, like a locust’s -clatter in August, seemed to increase -the heat. Ethan went slowly up the -winding stream with divided opinions -on the subject of his own sanity. To -sit in a canoe in the broiling sun on a -morning like this merely to talk to a -girl was rank idiocy, he told himself. -Then he recalled her eyes, her tantalizing -little laugh, the soft tones of her -voice, the provocative ghost of a smile -that so often trembled about her red -lips, and owned that she was worth it. -After he had slipped under the stone -footbridge it suddenly occurred to -him that perhaps the girl would object -quite as strongly as he to making a -martyr of herself in the interests of -polite conversation! Perhaps she -wouldn’t come at all! In which case -he would have had his journey for -naught—and possibly a sunstroke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -thrown in! The more he considered -that possibility the more reasonable -it became, until, when he had shot the -canoe into the little pond, and saw that -the bank was empty of aught save a -pair of the swans who were stretching -their wings in the sunlight, he was -not surprised.</p> - -<p>“She certainly has more sense than -I have,” he muttered.</p> - -<p>Not a breath of air stirred the -leaves of the encircling fringe of trees. -The little lake was like an artist’s -palette set with all the tender greens -and pinks and whites and yellows of -summer.</p> - -<p><a href="#i_060fp">“I hope you like my pool?” inquired -a voice.</a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 452px;"> -<a id="i_060fp"> - <img src="images/i_060fp.jpg" width="452" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_61">“I HOPE YOU LIKE MY POOL?” INQUIRED A VOICE.</a></div> -</div> - -<p>Ethan turned from his survey of the -scene and saw that the girl was standing -under the shade of a willow a little -distance up the slope. She was all in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -white, as yesterday, but a broad-brimmed -hat of soft white straw hid -her hair and threw a shadow over her -face. Ethan raised his own less picturesque -panama and bowed.</p> - -<p>“It’s looking fine to-day, I think,” -he answered. “Perhaps just a little -bit ornate, though. There’s such a -thing as over-decorating even a lotus -pool.”</p> - -<p>He turned the bow of the canoe toward -the bank, swung it skilfully and -stepped ashore. The girl watched him -silently. When he had pulled the nose -of the craft onto the grass and -dropped his paddle he walked toward -her. A little flush crept into her -cheeks, but her eyes met his calmly.</p> - -<p>“This is all dreadfully wrong, you -know,” she said gravely. He stopped -a few feet away and fanned himself -with his hat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, very warm, isn’t it?” he -agreed affably.</p> - -<p>“In the first place,” she went on -severely, “you are trespassing.”</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon?” he asked -as though he had not comprehended.</p> - -<p>“I said you are trespassing.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! Yes, of course. Well, really, -you couldn’t expect me to sit out there -in that hot sun, could you now? I—I -have a rather delicate constitution.”</p> - -<p>“But you were trespassing before! -Coming up here only makes it worse.”</p> - -<p>“Better, I call it,” he answered, -turning to look back unregretfully at -the pool.</p> - -<p>“And then—then it is equally -wrong for me to stay here and talk -to you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh come now!” he objected. -“Nymphs in my day were not so conventional!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> - -<p>“So I shall leave you,” she continued, -unheeding and turning away.</p> - -<p>“Then I shall go with you.”</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t dare!” she cried.</p> - -<p>“Why not? Really, Miss Clytie, I -am fairly respectable and I know of -no reason why you shouldn’t be seen -in my company. I have never done -murder and never stolen less than a -million dollars at a time. To be sure, -I hope to become a practising attorney -in the course of a year or so, but -as yet my honor is unsullied.”</p> - -<p>She hesitated, her eyes turned in -the direction of the house.</p> - -<p>“Besides,” he added hastily, “I -was going to tell you what I know -about you.”</p> - -<p>“Then,” she answered reluctantly, -“I’ll stay—a minute.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you. And shall we be comfortable -during that minute? ‘Come,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -let us sit upon the ground and tell sad -stories of the death of kings.’”</p> - -<p>She shook her head.</p> - -<p>“Please!” he begged. “You will -never be able to stand during all I -have to tell you. Besides, you forget -my delicate physique; I have been -repeatedly warned against over-exertion.”</p> - -<p>She sank gracefully to the grass in -a billowing of white muslin, smiling -and frowning at once as though annoyed -by his persistence, yet too -amiable to refuse. All of which -produced its effect, Ethan realizing -that she was doing him a -great favor and becoming duly -grateful. He followed her example, -seating himself on the turf in front -of her, paying, however, less attention -to the disposition of his feet. -Unconsciously his hand sought a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -pocket, then dropped away again. -She laughed softly.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_066_122.jpg" width="600" height="451" - alt="Ethan and Clytie on the bank" title="Ethan and Clytie on the bank" /> -</div> - -<p>“Please do,” she said.</p> - -<p>“You’re sure you don’t mind?”</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” she answered. So he -produced his cigarette case and then -his match-box and finally blew a breath -of gray smoke toward the motionless -branches overhead.</p> - -<p>“Feel better?” she asked sympathetically.</p> - -<p>“Much, thank you.”</p> - -<p>“Then you may begin.”</p> - -<p>“Begin——?”</p> - -<p>“Tell me what you know about -me.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! To be sure. Well, let me -see. In the first place, your name is -Laura Devereux. I am right?”</p> - -<p>She smiled mockingly.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t agreed to tell you that.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! But I know I am. I haven’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -asked any questions, for that would -have been taking an unfair advantage, -I fancy. But I happened to overhear -yesterday afternoon at the Inn that a -family by the name of Devereux had -taken The Larches. And, as I have -been in Riverdell before, I know -where The Larches is—are—. Would -you say is or are?”</p> - -<p>“I am only a listener.”</p> - -<p>“Then I shall say am, to be on the -safe side; I know where The Larches -am. You are living at The Larches.”</p> - -<p>“No, I—I am merely staying -there.”</p> - -<p>“For the summer; exactly. That’s -what I meant. When you are at home -you live in Boston. I won’t tell you -how I discovered that, but it was quite -fairly.”</p> - -<p>“Do I—are you sure I am a Bostonian?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Hm! Now that you mention it—I -am not. Perhaps your family -moved to Boston from somewhere -else?”</p> - -<p>“Yes?”</p> - -<p>“From—let me see! Pennsylvania? -But no, you don’t talk like a -Pennsylvanian. Maryland? No again. -Where, please?”</p> - -<p>“But I haven’t acknowledged the -correctness of any of your premises -yet,” she objected.</p> - -<p>“But you don’t dare tell me I’m -wrong,” he challenged.</p> - -<p>“At least, I am not going to tell -you so,” she answered.</p> - -<p>“That is as good as an admission!”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” she replied serenely. -“And now that you know so much -about me—that is all, by the way?”</p> - -<p>“So far,” he replied.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Then don’t you think I ought to -know something about you?”</p> - -<p>“I am flattered that you care to.” -He laid a hand over his heart and -bowed profoundly.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_069.jpg" width="600" height="587" - alt="Ethan" title="Ethan" /> -</div> - -<p>“My curiosity is of the idlest imaginable,” -she responded cruelly.</p> - -<p>“I regret that bow,” he said. -“However, I shall tell you anyhow. -I am like the prestidigitateur in that I -have nothing to conceal. And,” he -added ruefully, “mighty little to reveal. -My name is Parmley, surnamed -Ethan. I am holding nothing back -there, for I have no middle name. It -has been a custom in our family since -the days of the disreputable old Norman -robber from whom we are descended -to exclude middle names. I -was born in this same Commonwealth -of Massachusetts of well-to-do and -honest parents, both of whom have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -been dead for some years. I was an -only child. Pray, Miss Devereux, -consider——”</p> - -<p>“If you don’t mind,” she interrupted, -“I’d rather you didn’t call -me that. I haven’t owned to it, you -know.”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me! I was about to ask -you, Miss Clytie, to consider that fact -when weighing my faults. As a child -I was intensely interesting; I have -gathered as much from my mother. I -passed successfully through the -measles, mumps, scarlet fever and -whooping-cough. I also had the postage-stamp, -bird-egg and autograph -manias. Later I wriggled my way -through a preparatory school—a sort -of hot-house for tender young snobs—and -later managed, by the skin of -my teeth and a condition or two, to -enter college. As it has been the custom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -for the Parmleys to go to Harvard, -I went there too. I am boring -you frightfully?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>“I succeeded in completing a four-year -course in five. Some chaps do -it in three, but I didn’t want to appear -arrogant. I took it leisurely and finished -in five. Then, as there had -never been a lawyer in the family, I -decided to study law. I entered the -Harvard Law School and graduated -a few weeks ago. I am now spending -a hard-earned vacation. In September -I am to enter a law firm in Providence -as a sort of dignified office-boy.</p> - -<p>“I am the possessor of some worldly -wealth, not a great deal, but enough -for one of my simple tastes. I am even -a member of the landed gentry, since I -own a piece of land with a house on it. -I also own an automobile, and it is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -that I have to thank for this pleasant -meeting.”</p> - -<p>She smiled a question.</p> - -<p>“I left Boston bright and early -Monday morning with Farrell. Farrell -calls himself a chauffeur, in proof -of which he displays a license and a -badge. If it wasn’t for that license -and that badge I’d never suspect it. -Farrell’s principal duty seems to be -to hand me wrenches and screw-drivers -and things when I lie on my back -in the road and take a worm’s-eye -view of the machine. All went as nice -as you please until we reached a spot -some two miles north of this charming -hamlet. There things happened. I -won’t weary you with a detailed list -of the casualties. Suffice it to say that -I walked into Riverdell and Farrell -followed an hour later leaning luxuriously -back in the car and watching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -that the tow-rope didn’t snap. I -ate a supplementary breakfast at the -Inn while Farrell entertained the -blacksmith, and then, having nothing -better to do, I dropped the canoe into -the water and paddled downstream. -Ever since I stole my first apple forbidden -territory has possessed an unholy -fascination for me, and that is -why, perhaps, I roamed up the brook -and stumbled, as it were, into Arcady.”</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_073.jpg" width="600" height="436" - alt="Roadside Inn" title="Roadside Inn" /> -</div> - -<p>“What color is your machine?” -she asked.</p> - -<p>“Exceedingly blue.”</p> - -<p>“And—isn’t it almost repaired?”</p> - -<p>“Er—almost, yes.”</p> - -<p>“It is taking a long while, seems -to me.”</p> - -<p>“Well, its malady was grave. I -think it had tonsillitis, judging from -the sounds it made.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Indeed? But it seemed to go very -well.”</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon?”</p> - -<p>“I said that it seemed to go very -well.”</p> - -<p>“You have seen it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, it passed the house yesterday -at about two o’clock.”</p> - -<p>“There are a great many blue cars -in the world,” he defended.</p> - -<p>“Has it returned yet?” she asked, -unheeding.</p> - -<p>“No. The fact is, I was on my way -to Stillhaven to visit friends there, so -I sent the car on for them to use. -I have observed that, failing my presence, -the car does fairly well for my -friends.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_074.jpg" width="600" height="213" - alt="big blue touring car" title="big blue touring car" /> -</div> - -<p>“What a pessimist! And you are -staying in Riverdell?”</p> - -<p>“For a few days, yes; at the Roadside.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Riverdell should feel flattered to -find that you prefer it to Stillhaven as -a summer resort.” She gathered her -skirts together with one hand and -started to rise. Ethan jumped to his -feet and enjoyed the intoxicating felicity -of feeling her hand in his.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 456px;"> -<img src="images/i_075.jpg" width="456" height="600" - alt="Ethan assists Clytie" title="Ethan assists Clytie" /> -</div> - -<p>“Thank you,” she murmured, -smoothing her gown. Then, with a -return of that provoking, mocking little -smile, “Would it be a terrible -blow to your vanity,” she asked, “if -I were to tell you that your guesses -are all wrong?”</p> - -<p>“Terrible,” he answered anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Then I won’t tell you,” she said -soothingly.</p> - -<p>“But—but—they’re not wrong, are -they?”</p> - -<p>“‘Where ignorance is bliss——’” -she murmured.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But I’d rather know! Tell me -the worst, please!”</p> - -<p>She shook her head smilingly.</p> - -<p>“Good-bye,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you going to let me see -you again?” he asked dolefully. -Again she shook her head.</p> - -<p>“I have had the offer of a new -pool,” she said, “one with all modern -improvements, and I think I shall -move.”</p> - -<p>“But—now, look here, it isn’t fair! -What am I to do? It’s evident you’ve -never spent a holiday in Riverdell, or -else you’d appreciate my plight. -There’s nothing to do save paddle -around on that idiotic little river. -And every time I’m afraid the water -will leak out when I’m not watching it -and leave me high and dry. If only -for charity, please let me come here -and see you now and then—just for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -moment! I’ll be very good, really; -I’ll even agree to stay in the canoe -and frizzle before your eyes!”</p> - -<p>“You speak,” she answered perplexedly, -“as though I had invited -you to come to Riverdell, or at least as -though I were to blame for your remaining -here!”</p> - -<p>He resisted the words that sprang -to his lips.</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon then. I wouldn’t -for the world imply anything so absolutely -criminal. But I am here and I -am bored; and surely you haven’t so -many excitements, so many engagements -in the mornings but that you -can spend a few moments communing -with nature here at the pool? Of -course, I don’t recommend myself as -an excitement; perhaps I’m more of -a narcotic; but I’ll do anything in my -power to amuse you! I’ll—I’ll even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -tell you fairy stories or sing to you; -and I’ve never done either in my -life!”</p> - -<p>“That is indeed an inducement -then,” she laughed. “But—good-bye.”</p> - -<p>“You won’t?”</p> - -<p>“Do you think it likely?” she -asked a trifle haughtily.</p> - -<p>“Not when you look like that,” he -answered dismally.</p> - -<p>“Good-bye,” she said again, moving -away.</p> - -<p>“Good morning,” he answered. -His eyes were on the ground where -she had been sitting. He took a step -forward. From there he watched her -pass up the slope under the trees. At -the last she turned back and looked -regretfully at the pool shimmering in -the noontide heat.</p> - -<p>“I shall be sorry to leave it,” she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -said softly, yet distinctly. “Perhaps—I -shall change my mind.”</p> - -<p>Then she went on, passing from -shadow to sunlight, until the trees hid -her. When she was quite out of sight -Ethan lighted a cigarette, smiling the -while. Then he flicked aside the -charred match, lifted his left foot, -stooped and picked up a little white -wad which, as he gently shook it out, -became a dainty white handkerchief. -He looked at it, held it to his nose, -touched it to his lips, folded it carefully -and clumsily and placed it in his -pocket. Then he turned toward the -pool and the canoe.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_079_162.jpg" width="600" height="187" - alt="the pool" title="the pool" /> -</div> - -<p>“She’s a coquette,” he muttered, -“an arrant coquette. But—but she’s -simply—ripping!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="VI" id="VI">VI.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>Ethan finished his second cigarette -and tossed it hissing into the pool. -The nearest swan immediately paddled -over to investigate. Ethan -sighed exasperatedly.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_080.jpg" width="600" height="244" - alt="swan" title="swan" /> -</div> - -<p>“Go ahead, then, you old idiot!” -he muttered. “You won’t like it any -better than you liked the last one; -they’re out of the same box; but try -it if you want to. There, I told you -so! Oh, that’s it; blame me now! -Blessed if you aren’t almost human!”</p> - -<p>He looked for the twentieth time -toward where the corner of the white -pergola gleamed through the trees -and for the twentieth time turned his -gaze disappointedly away again. He -had been there almost three-quarters -of an hour, and he wasn’t going to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -stay another minute! If she didn’t -want to come, all right! Only she -wouldn’t get her handkerchief if she -didn’t! He had begun to doubt this -morning whether she had dropped -that article on purpose, as he had suspected -yesterday. If it had been an -accident she had probably returned already -and searched for it, and he -could not base his hopes of seeing her -on the score of the handkerchief. It -was quite evident, anyhow, that she -wasn’t coming. That farewell remark -of hers which he had translated to his -own liking meant nothing, after all. -He would throw his things into his -bag and go on to Stillhaven after dinner. -He had been a comical ass to fool -around here like this tagging after a -girl who didn’t want to be bothered -with him and risking dyspepsia at the -Inn! And what the deuce was he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -thinking about women for, anyway? -Hadn’t he taken a solemn vow on the -occasion of his first, last and only -affair to leave them severely alone? -He grinned reminiscently.</p> - -<p>That had been a desperate affair, -brief and tragic. It had occurred in -his freshman year. <em>She</em> was a “saleslady” -in a florist’s shop on the Avenue. -She had cheeks like one of the -bridesmaid roses she sold, a tip-tilted -nose, sparkling gray eyes and a mass -of black hair which stood up from her -forehead in a mighty rolling billow -and smelled headily of violet perfume -when she pinned a carnation to his -coat. It had been love at first sight -with Ethan, and he had seldom appeared -in public without a flower in -his button-hole. He remembered with -something between a shudder and a -sigh the exaltation of pride and joy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -with which he had accompanied her -to the theatre that first time! When -he had returned from his Christmas -vacation to find her engaged to the -red-haired drug-clerk on the next corner -he had promptly become a confirmed -misogynist. During the seven -years which had elapsed between that -time and this he had relented somewhat, -had gone through more than one -mild flirtation and had kept his heart. -There had been so many, many other -things to occupy him that love had -remained unconsidered. And now, -what was he doing here, sitting in a -canoe in a lily pond when he ought of -right to be at Stillhaven helping Vincent -sail the “Sea Lark” in the club -races? Wasn’t he making a fool of -himself again? Then something white -moved toward him between the trees -and the question went unanswered.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_083.jpg" width="600" height="312" - alt="Ethan in the pool" title="Ethan in the pool" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I think I must have lost a handkerchief -here yesterday,” she announced -by way of greeting and explanation.</p> - -<p>“A handkerchief?” he cried. -“Let me help you search.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t bother! It doesn’t -matter, of course, only—I -thought that if it was here I’d -get it.”</p> - -<p>But Ethan was already out of the -canoe.</p> - -<p>“Er—what was it like?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Rather plain, I think; just a narrow -lace edge.”</p> - -<p>They looked diligently over the -grass. Plainly it was not there. She -raised her head, brushed a stray lock -of hair from her forehead and -laughed.</p> - -<p>“I’m always losing them,” she said -apologetically.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Perhaps,” he suggested, “it -might be well to offer a reward.”</p> - -<p>“A splendid idea!” she cried. -“We’ll post it on this tree here. -Have you a piece of paper? And a -pencil?”</p> - -<p>“Both.” He tore the front from -an envelope and handed her his pencil. -She accepted them and set herself -down on the grass.</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear, what shall I write on? -The canoe paddle? Thanks. Now -let me see. What shall I say?”</p> - -<p>“You must start by writing -‘Lost!’ in big letters at the top. -That’s it.” Ethan’s rôle of adviser -carried delicious privileges. It allowed -him to kneel quite close behind -her and observe the pink lobe of one -small ear from a position of disquieting -proximity.</p> - -<p>“And then what?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon!” he said, -with a start. “Why, then—er—let -me see. ‘Lost’——”</p> - -<p>“I have that,” she said demurely.</p> - -<p>“A small handkerchief belonging——”</p> - -<p>“How did you know it was small?” -she asked with smiling interest.</p> - -<p>“They always are,” he answered. -“Where was I?”</p> - -<p>“‘A small handkerchief belonging’——”</p> - -<p>“That doesn’t sound quite shipshape. -Let’s try again. ‘Lost, a -small lady’s’——”</p> - -<p>They laughed together as though it -was a most novel and excellent joke.</p> - -<p>“I don’t care to advertise my -smallness,” she objected.</p> - -<p>“Well, once more now. ‘Lost, a -small handkerchief with a funny little -lace border and an embroidered D in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -the left-hand lower corner. Finder——’”</p> - -<p>“An embroidered D?” she asked -puzzledly.</p> - -<p>“Wasn’t it a D?”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps it was,” she allowed. -She leaned a little farther forward, -for the brief glance she had cast toward -him had revealed the fact that -his head was startlingly near. “And—and -the reward?” she asked a -trifle constrainedly.</p> - -<p>“Finder may keep same for his -honesty!”</p> - -<p>“But—but that’s ridiculous!” she -cried. “What’s the use of advertising -at all?”</p> - -<p>“To save the finder from committing -theft,” he answered soberly. -“Think of his conscience!”</p> - -<p>“How do you know it’s a ‘him’?” -she asked carelessly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I used the masculine gender merely -in a—er—general way.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!”</p> - -<p>“Yes. Have you written that?”</p> - -<p>“No, what’s the good of it? If the -finder is dishonest enough to keep it he -may look after his own conscience!”</p> - -<p>“That’s unchristian,” he answered -sadly.</p> - -<p>“I’ll do this, though,” she said. -“If the finder will produce it I will -allow him to keep it on one condition.”</p> - -<p>“And that?” he asked suspiciously.</p> - -<p>“If there is a D on it he may have -it. Otherwise——”</p> - -<p>The finder produced it, unfolded it -and looked at the “left-hand lower -corner.”</p> - -<p>“Well?” she asked, smilingly. He -frowned.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - -<p>“It—it looks more like an H,” he -answered.</p> - -<p>“It is an H! Now may I have it?”</p> - -<p>“But it ought to be a D,” he said. -“H stands neither for Devereux, -Laura, nor Clytie.”</p> - -<p>“I never said it did!”</p> - -<p>“This is quite plainly not your -property,” he went on, refolding it. -“Being unable to find the owner, I -shall retain possession of it.”</p> - -<p>“But it’s mine!” she cried.</p> - -<p>“Yours? What does the H stand -for, then?”</p> - -<p>She hesitated and flushed.</p> - -<p>“I never said my name was Laura -Devereux,” she murmured.</p> - -<p>“No, but you see I happen to know -that it is.” He replaced the handkerchief -in his pocket. Then he -reached forward and took the paper -and envelope from her lap.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -<a href="#i_frontis">“I shall write an advertisement myself,” he -said.</a></p> - -<p>She watched him while he did so, -biting her lip in smiling vexation. -When it was done he passed the composition -across to her.</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="noic">“FOUND!”</p> - -<p>“A lady’s lace-bordered handkerchief bearing -the initial H in one corner. Owner may -recover same by proving ownership and rewarding -finder. Apply to Vertumnus, care -Clytie, Lotus Pool, Arcadia, between ten and -twelve.”</p></div> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_089.jpg" width="600" height="376" - alt="riverbank" title="riverbank" /> -</div> - -<p>“What’s the reward?” she asked. -He shook his head thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“I haven’t decided yet. Something—rather -nice, I fancy.”</p> - -<p>A faint flush crept into her cheeks -and she turned her gaze toward the -pool.</p> - -<p>“It is much cooler to-day,” she -said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes, last night’s thunder-storm -cleared the air,” he replied, in a similar -conversational tone. She glanced -at the tiny watch hanging at her belt. -Then she murmured something and -sprang lightly to her feet before -Ethan could go to her assistance.</p> - -<p>“You are not going?” he asked -in dismay.</p> - -<p>She nodded gravely.</p> - -<p>“But it’s quite early!”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think it right to associate -with dishonesty,” she answered severely. -“You know very well that -that handkerchief is mine!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I do,” he answered. “That -is, I saw you drop it yesterday. Probably -it belongs really to someone else. -Unless—” he smiled—“unless you -bought it at a bargain sale? In which -case the initial didn’t really matter, I -suppose.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Will you give it to me?” she -asked unsmilingly.</p> - -<p>“But it’s such a little thing!” he -pleaded earnestly. “You have so -many more that surely the loss of this -one won’t inconvenience you. And I—I’ve -taken a fancy to it.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a convenient excuse for -theft!” she answered.</p> - -<p>“It’s the only one I have to offer,” -he replied humbly.</p> - -<p>“But—it’s so absurd!” she cried -impatiently. “What can you want -with it?”</p> - -<p>He was silent a moment. She -glanced furtively at his face and then -moved a few steps toward the house.</p> - -<p>“I wonder if you really want me to -tell you?” he mused.</p> - -<p>“Tell me what?” she asked uneasily.</p> - -<p>“Why I want to keep it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I don’t think I am—especially interested,” -she answered coldly. “Are -you going to return it?”</p> - -<p>“Maybe; in a moment. You don’t -want to hear the reason?”</p> - -<p>“I—Oh, well, what is the reason?” -she asked impatiently.</p> - -<p>“A very simple one. As a handkerchief -merely it doesn’t attract me -especially. I have seen more beautiful -ones, I think——”</p> - -<p>“Well!” she gasped.</p> - -<p>“My desire to keep it arises from -the simple fact that it is yours, -Clytie.”</p> - -<p>She strove to meet his gaze with one -exhibiting the proper amount of -haughty resentment. But the attempt -was a failure. After the first glance -her eyes fell, the blood crept into -her face and she turned quickly -away.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> - -<p>“May I keep it, please?” he asked -softly.</p> - -<p>She went swiftly up the little slope -under the trees.</p> - -<p>“Clytie!” he called. She paused, -without turning, to listen.</p> - -<p>“May I keep it?”</p> - -<p>Clytie dropped her head and passed -quickly from sight.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> -<img src="images/i_094.jpg" width="393" height="600" - alt="lily pond" title="lily pond" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="VII" id="VII">VII.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>Ethan stretched his arms, chastely -clad in striped blue and white madras, -yawned expansively, kicked his legs -loose from the sheet in which they -were entangled, and awoke; awoke to -find the sunlight dancing across the -room and making radiant blurs of his -brushes on the old mahogany bureau; -awoke to find a robin fervently launching -his brief ballad in through the -window from the branches just outside; -awoke to find himself in a new -and very wonderful world, a world -populated by a girl with violet eyes, -a reiterating robin, and himself!</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 474px;"> -<img src="images/i_095.jpg" width="474" height="600" - alt="fireplace" title="fireplace" /> -</div> - -<p>He was in love!</p> - -<p>Knowledge of the fact came to him -with a heart-clutching abruptness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -He had gone to sleep last night without -premonition; he awoke now to -a startling illumination of mind. -Whence had the tidings come? From -the dancing sunlight streaming across -the old boards? From the scented -breeze that stirred the leaves out -there? From the perfervid gossip of -the swelling throat? Who could tell? -And yet there it was, that knowledge, -as real as the green summer earth -awaiting him, as much a part of his -life as the breath he drew!</p> - -<p>He lay for a long while with his -hands clasped under his head and -gazed out into the beautiful green and -golden and azure world, with a happy -smile on his face, thinking new and -ineffable thoughts. It is a glorious -thing to find oneself really, wholly in -love for the first time, glorious, wonderful, -absorbing....</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 201px;"> -<img src="images/i_096.jpg" width="201" height="600" - alt="the lane" title="the lane" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> - -<p>The robin ceased his pæan and was -silent, with his head cocked attentively. -Perhaps his ears were better than -yours or mine and he heard a song -sweeter and more triumphant than -any of his own, for after a moment of -listening he spread his wings and -floated down across sunlit spaces to -the orchard.</p> - -<p>I wonder if the safety razor was not -invented for the man in love. Certain -it is that Ethan could never have used -any other sort this morning. At -times, driven by a mad impatience to -be out and away, he shaved frantically, -as though he feared that Nature -would roll up her landscape and be -gone ere he could reach it; at times -he stood motionless, gazing unseeingly -at the tip of his nose reflected in -the old mirror. Now he whistled -blithely, only to stop in the middle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -of a note and relapse into a silent -gravity. In short, he exhibited all the -symptoms, mental and physical, -usually accompanying his disease; -temperature increased, pulse at once -full and fluttering, respiration erratic, -pupils of the eyes slightly dilated, -mind apparently affected.</p> - -<p>He dressed with unusual care, bewailing -the fact that his choice of garments -was limited to two suits. -Neither blue serge nor gray homespun -seemed fitted for the occasion; his -heart hankered after purple and fine -linen. But at last he was dressed and -was hurrying down the creaking -staircase to a late breakfast. Forty -minutes later he was floating amidst -the lilies of Arcady.</p> - -<p class="noic">* * * * *</p> - -<p>That line of stars, dear reader, is -the typographic equivalent of three<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -wasted hours in the life of Ethan -Parmley,—three empty unhappy -hours spent in and about a silly old -puddle smelling like an apothecary -shop (I am using his own language -now) with only a trio of idiotic swans -to talk to. The Nymph of the Violet -Eyes came not.</p> - -<p>And yet he saw her that day, after -all; caught a fleeting glimpse of her -that at once assuaged and sharpened -his hunger. He was on the porch of -the Inn after dinner smoking, morosely, -when a smart trap swept by -from the direction of The Larches. It -contained a coachman and two ladies. -One of the ladies had violet eyes, -though, as her head was turned away -from him and partly hidden by a -white parasol, he could not have -proved it at the moment. As for the -other, he couldn’t have said whether<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -she was young or old, fair or dark. -The pair of glistening, well-groomed -bays left Ethan scant time for observation. -In a twinkling the carriage -and its precious burden were gone. -And although he never left the porch -for more than a minute at a time all -the rest of that interminable summer -afternoon he found no reward. There -were other roads leading to The -Larches.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_099.jpg" width="600" height="438" - alt="Roadside Inn" title="Roadside Inn" /> -</div> - -<p>The evening mail brought him a -note from Vincent Graves:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Farrell showed up here Monday with the -car and your note. I tried to find out from -him what you were up to, but he either didn’t -know or exercised a discretion I never credited -him with. I hope it is nothing more than sunstroke; -folks have been known to recover from -that with their minds almost as good as new. -Anyhow, I am coming over in a few days to -see for myself. I know all about mythology—accent -on the <em>myth</em>. But look here, no poaching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -on my preserves! I finished third yesterday -on time-allowance; would have done better -if I hadn’t carried away my jib at the outer -mark. No wind to speak of. Can’t you come -on for Saturday’s race? We’ve had the car out -once or twice. There’s something wrong with -it. Farrell has it in hospital to-day. My -compliments to her, but tell her I need you -here.</p> - -<p class="noic">“Yours,</p> - -<p class="right">“<i>Vincent</i>.”<br /> -</p> -</div> - -<p>After supper Ethan drew a chair -to the open window of his room, set -the lamp precariously on the bureau -where the light would fall upon the -portfolio in his lap, and replied to -Vincent:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“My dear Vincent (he wrote), life moves -sweetly in Arcadia. Clytie, she who beside her -blossom-starred pool has so long gazed, enamored, -upon the fiery Apollo, now hearkens to -the wooing tones of green-garlanded Vertumnus. -No more she fills the leafy hollow with her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -tears and soft reproaches, but reclined where -shading branches defy the sun god’s fiercest -rays, she smiles betimes upon Vertumnus. And -he, bathing his heart in the warm blue pools of -her eyes, forgets and forswears the too-coy Pomona. -So, friend, runs the drama of Clytie -the dawn-eyed Nymph of the Lotus Pool; of -Apollo, radiant and unapproachable Lord of the -Sun; and of Vertumnus, humble and enamored -God of the Seasons. Friend, for love of -me, petition fair Venus to aid my cause!</p> - -<p>“And now Jove be with you! The night -wind steals sweetly through Arcadia’s moonlit -glades and bears to my nostrils the heart-stirring -fragrance of lily and of lotus. It is -Clytie’s breath upon my cheek. Ah, my friend, -I weep for you that you can never know the -love of a god for a nymph in Arcady! May -Somnus, gentlest of the gods, send thee sweet -dreams. Farewell.</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Vertumnus.</span>”<br /> -</p> - -<p>“And now, having read this over, I see -clearly that it is beyond your understanding, -my friend, and so it may be that it will never -reach your eyes.”</p></div> - -<p>It never did.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII">VIII.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>It sometimes rains even in Arcady.</p> - -<p>When Ethan arose the next morning -he found that Apollo was taking a -rest and that Jupiter was having -things all his own way. At the foot -of the orchard the little river was -foaming and boiling with puny ferocity. -The grass was beaten and -drenched and the foliage was adrip. -But in the shelter of the elm outside -the window a robin chirped cheerfully, -thinking doubtless of gustatory joys -to come.</p> - -<p>“Well, you’re taking it philosophically, -my friend,” muttered Ethan, -“and I might as well follow your -example, even though I have a soul -above fat worms. It’s got to stop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -sometime, and I might as well make -the best of it meanwhile. Still,” he -added ruefully, “a whole day in this -ramshackle old ark doesn’t appeal to -me much.”</p> - -<p>He dressed leisurely, ate breakfast -slowly, and afterward sought to kill -time with a book by a window in the -tap-room. The volume, a paper-clad -novel left by some former guest, answered -well enough. It is doubtful if -he could have given undivided attention -to the most engrossing story ever -written. The rain, streaking down -the tiny panes, caught strange hues -from the old glass and the light from -the crackling logs in the fire-place. -Sometimes they were green like tender -new apple leaves in May, sometimes -blue like rain-drenched violets, -like—no, not like but, rather, reminiscent -of, certain eyes! Ah, there was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -food for thought! The novel was -turned face-downward on his knee, -the cigarette drooped thoughtfully -from the corner of his mouth and his -hands went deep into his pockets. -Those eyes! Rain-drenched violets? -By jove, yes! No simile, no comparison -could be better! Rain-drenched -violets touched by the yellow light of -the sun stealing back through gray -clouds! Rather an elaborate description, -he thought with a smile at his -sentimentalism. The smile deepened -as he recalled the infinitesimal blue -circle under the left eye, a little blue -vein showing with charming distinctness -against the warm pallor of the -skin like a vein in soft-toned marble. -It was a little thing to recall, little in -all ways, but it seemed to him a veritable -triumph of the memory! By half -closing his eyes he could almost see it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 486px;"> -<img src="images/i_103.jpg" width="486" height="600" - alt="Ethan reading a novel" title="Ethan reading a novel" /> -</div> - -<p><em>Slam!</em></p> - -<p>The paper-covered novel fell to the -floor and lay fluttering its leaves in -helpless appeal. He rescued it and -sought his place again, smiling with -real amusement over his foolishness.</p> - -<p>“I’m certainly behaving like an -idiot,” he thought. “I never knew -being in love was so—so deuced unsettling. -First thing I know, if I don’t -keep a pretty steady hand on the -reins, I’ll be writing poetry or roaming -around the place cutting hearts -and initials in the tree-trunks! H’m; -let me see now; where was I? Ah, -here we have it!</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 502px;"> -<img src="images/i_106.jpg" width="502" height="600" - alt="riverside meadow" title="riverside meadow" /> -</div> - -<p>“‘Garrison laid the diamond -trinket gently back on the desk and -puffed slowly at his cigar. Presently -he turned with disconcerting abruptness -to Mrs. Staniford. “There is -no possibility of mistake?” he asked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -“None,” was the firm reply. “You -could swear to the identity of this -jewel in court?” “Yes.” Garrison -whipped a small round, black object -from his pocket and settled it against -his eye. Then he took up the trinket -again and bent over it closely. “My -dear madam,” he said softly, “if you -did that you would be making a grave -mistake.” “What do you mean?” -she cried fiercely. “I mean,” was the -smiling response, “that this is not -one of your jewels,—unless——” -“Well?” she prompted impatiently. -“Unless, my dear madam, you wear -paste!” A sharp involuntary exclamation -of surprise startled them. -They turned quickly. Lord Burslem -was crossing the library with white, -set face.’</p> - -<p>“Pshaw! I knew all along the -things were paste,” sighed Ethan.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -“Singleton is Mrs. Staniford’s son by -a former marriage and she has -pinched the stones and given them to -him to get him out of a scrape, something -to do with that lachrymose Miss -Deene, maybe; at least, something she -knows about. Laurence is as innocent -as the untrodden snow, or whatever -the correct simile is, and if I keep -on to the last chapter I’ll find out that -fact. But I prefer to believe him -guilty. He wore a gardenia in his -buttonhole, and that settles it. I can’t -stand for a man who wears gardenias. -I insist that he is guilty.”</p> - -<p>He tossed the book half-way across -the room, arose, stretched his long -arms above his head and stared out -of the window. The rain was falling -straight down from the dark sky in a -manner that would doubtless have -pleased Isaac Newton greatly, showing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -as it did so perfectly the attraction -of gravitation. The drops were -of immense size, and when one struck -the window pane it spread itself out -into a very pool before it trickled -down to the sash. Ethan watched for -awhile, then yawned, glanced at his -watch and lounged in to dinner.</p> - -<p>About three o’clock the sky lightened -somewhat and the torrential -downpour gave way to a quiet drizzle. -He donned a raincoat and sought the -road. It was not bad walking, for the -surface was well drained, and he had -put three-quarters of a mile behind -him before he had considered either -distance or destination. Then, looking -around and finding the highway -lined on the right by an ornamental -iron fence through which shrubs -thrust their wet leaves, he smiled and -shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I didn’t mean to come here,” he -said to himself, “but now that I’m -here I might as well go on and tantalize -myself with a look at the house.”</p> - -<p>Another minute brought him to a -broad gate, flanked by high stone pillars. -A well-kept drive-way swept -curving back to a large white house, -a house a little too pretentious to entirely -please Ethan. On one side,—the -side, as he knew, nearest the lotus -pool,—an uncovered porch jutted out, -and from this steps led to a white pergola. -The latter was a recent addition -and as yet the grapevines had not succeeded -wholly in covering its nakedness. -From one of the windows on -the lower floor of the house a dull -orange glow emanated.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_110.jpg" width="600" height="472" - alt="a well-kept driveway" title="a well-kept driveway" /> -</div> - -<p>“They’ve got a fire there,” said -Ethan, “and she’s sitting in front of -it. Wish I was!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> - -<p>He settled the collar of his raincoat -closer about his neck to keep out the -drops, and sighed.</p> - -<p>“You know,” he went on then, -somewhat defiantly, addressing himself -apparently to the residence, -“there’s no reason why I shouldn’t -walk right up the drive, ring the bell -and ask for—for Mr. Devereux. I’ve -got the best excuse in the world. And -once inside it would be odd if I didn’t -see Her. I’ve half a mind to do -it! Only—perhaps she’d rather I -wouldn’t. And—I won’t.”</p> - -<p>He took a final survey of the premises -and turned away with another -sigh. Before he had reached the Inn -the clouds had broken in the south and -a little wind was shaking the raindrops -from the leaves along the road.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 547px;"> -<img src="images/i_112.jpg" width="547" height="600" - alt="the lane" title="the lane" /> -</div> - -<p>“A good sailing breeze,” he -thought. “And, by the bye, this is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -Saturday. I ought to be at Stillhaven -helping Vin win that race. I suppose -I’ve disappointed him. However, a -fellow can’t be in two places at once; -he ought to know that.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="IX" id="IX">IX.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>The little breeze had held all night, -and this morning the trees and shrubs -were quite dry again, but looking better -for their bath. It was Sunday, -and as the canoe floated into the harbor -of the lotus pool a distant church -bell was ringing. Perhaps, he told -himself with a sudden sinking of the -heart, he was doomed to another -day without sight of Clytie; for -it might be that the family would -drive to church. But the first -fair look about him dispelled his forebodings. -<a href="#i_112fp">She was</a> standing at the -border of the pool <a href="#i_112fp">throwing crumbs -of bread to the swans</a>. She saw him -at almost the same moment and smiled.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_029_113.jpg" width="600" height="177" - alt="more river" title="more river" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Don’t come any nearer, please,” -she said. “You’ll scare them.”</p> - -<p>He dipped his paddle obediently and -sat silent in the rocking craft until -the last crumb had been distributed -and she had brushed the crumbs from -her outstretched hands. Stooping, she -picked a book from the grass and -faced him.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 460px;"> -<a id="i_112fp"> - <img src="images/i_112fp.jpg" width="460" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_113">SHE WAS THROWING CRUMBS OF BREAD TO THE SWANS.</a></div> -</div> - -<p>“May I come ashore?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“You are already trespassing -dreadfully,” she objected.</p> - -<p>“‘In for a penny, in for a -pound,’” he replied, sending the -canoe forward. “‘Might as well be -hanged for a sheep as a lamb.’ And -if I could think of any other proverbs -applicable to the matter I’d -quote them.” He jumped out and -pulled the bow of the canoe onto the -turf.</p> - -<p>“You won’t mind, however, if I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -decline to stay and be hung with -you?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“On the contrary, I should mind -very much. In fact, I demand that -you remain and go bail for me in case -I’m apprehended.”</p> - -<p>“I fear I couldn’t afford it,” she -answered.</p> - -<p>“Doubtless your word would -serve,” he said. “Perhaps, if you -told them the excellent character I -bear, you might get me off scot-free.”</p> - -<p>“But I don’t think I know enough -about your character.”</p> - -<p>“There’s something in that,” he -allowed. “Perhaps you had better -observe me closely for the next hour -or two. One can learn a great deal -about another person’s character by -observation.”</p> - -<p>“How can I do that if I go to -church?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You can’t. That’s one reason -why you’re not going to church.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! And—are there other -reasons?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps you had better give a -few of them. I don’t think the first -one is especially convincing.”</p> - -<p>“Well, another one is that I -haven’t seen you for three days.”</p> - -<p>She shook her head gravely.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 447px;"> -<img src="images/i_116.jpg" width="447" height="600" - alt="Clytie" title="Clytie" /> -</div> - -<p>“Go on, please.”</p> - -<p>“Not good enough? Well, then, -another reason is that you haven’t -seen me for three days.”</p> - -<p>She laughed amusedly.</p> - -<p>“Worse and worse,” she said.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t think you’d care much -for that argument,” he responded -cheerfully. “It was somewhat in the -nature of an experiment, you see. But -the real unanswerable reason is this:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -I have missed seeing you very much, -I have been very dull, you are naturally -kind-hearted and would not unnecessarily -cause pain or disappointment, -and I beg of you to give me a -few moments of your cheerful society! -Is that—better?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t particularly care for it.”</p> - -<p>“Miss Devereux——”</p> - -<p>“What have I told you?” she -warned.</p> - -<p>“I beg pardon! But—now, really, -please let me call you by a Christian -name! I—I’d like to graduate from -mythology.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think it would be proper -for you to call me by my Christian -name,” she answered demurely.</p> - -<p>“A Christian name, I said,” he -answered patiently. “Tell me why -you don’t want me to address you as -Miss Devereux, please.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Because——” She stopped and -dropped her gaze. “We’ve never -been properly introduced, have we?”</p> - -<p>“True! Allow me, pray! Miss -Devereux, may I present Mr. Parmley? -Mr. Parmley, Miss Devereux!” -He stepped forward, smiling politely -and murmuring his pleasure, and ere -she knew what was happening he was -shaking hands with her. “Awfully -glad to meet you, Miss Devereux!” -he assured her cordially.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 455px;"> -<img src="images/i_118.jpg" width="455" height="600" - alt="he was shaking hands with her" title="he was shaking hands with her" /> -</div> - -<p>She backed away, striving to draw -her hand from his, and laughing merrily.</p> - -<p>“Is that what you call a proper introduction?” -she asked.</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s the best I could do under -the circumstances,” Ethan answered. -“Having no mutual acquaintances -handy, you see——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you think—you might let go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -now?” she asked, her laughter dying -down to a nervous smile.</p> - -<p>“Let go?” he echoed questioningly.</p> - -<p>“Please! You have my hand!”</p> - -<p>He looked down at it in mild surprise; -then into her face.</p> - -<p>“Isn’t that the strangest thing? I -was never so surprised——!”</p> - -<p>“But—Mr. Parmley, please let -go,” she begged.</p> - -<p>“You don’t mean to say that I still -have it?” He tried to seem at ease -and to speak carelessly, but his heart -was pounding as though striving to do -the Anvil Chorus all by itself, and his -voice wasn’t quite steady.</p> - -<p>“I do,” she answered coldly, biting -her lip a little. A disk of red burned -in each cheek. Her eyes were fixed -on his imprisoning hand. “Besides, -you are hurting me,” she added, falling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -back upon the fib which is a woman’s -last resource in such a quandary. -But he shook his head soberly.</p> - -<p>“Pardon me, but that’s impossible. -You will observe that my hand is quite -loose about yours. Accuse me of unlawful -detention, if you wish, but not -of cruelty.”</p> - -<p>“But—but it is my hand,” she protested -faintly.</p> - -<p>“Well, that is nothing to boast of,” -he replied smiling somewhat tremulously. -She had kept her eyes from -him all along and he was determined -to see them before he gave up. “Look -at mine; it’s twice as big!”</p> - -<p>The brown lashes fluttered for an instant -and Ethan nerved himself for -the shock of looking into those violet -eyes. He didn’t know what was going -to happen, he assured himself in a -sudden delicious panic, and he didn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -much care. Probably he would do -something awfully rude, something -that would frighten and anger her, -something for which she would never -forgive him! Perhaps the sudden -trembling of his hand about hers -warned her, for the lashes lay still -again. A moment of silence followed, -during which Ethan’s heart threatened -to choke him. Then all at once -the little warm hand ceased tugging -and lay limp and inert in his. She -turned her head and looked toward -the trees and the shade.</p> - -<p>“If we are going to hold hands for -any length of time,” she remarked -coolly, “perhaps we had better sit -down and be comfortable.”</p> - -<p>Ethan released her instantly, while -a wave of burning color swept across -his face. He felt terribly small and -ridiculous! He realized that he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -taken it for granted that she had been -experiencing emotions similar to his -own, and instead of that she had been -only bored and—and exasperated! -He followed her laggingly up the -slope, savagely calling himself names -and meditating a retirement in such -order as was still possible. She -seated herself comfortably on the -grass with her back against the smooth -round trunk of a maple and patted -down her skirts. Then she glanced -up at him calmly.</p> - -<p>“Do you realize,” she asked, “that -you have made me late for church?”</p> - -<p>He was grateful for that ready -change of subject and piqued that she -should be so little disconcerted. His -own heart was still dancing.</p> - -<p>“I am an humble instrument of -Providence,” he answered as lightly -as he could, dropping to the ground<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -at a respectful distance from the tips -of her small shoes.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_066_122.jpg" width="600" height="451" - alt="Ethan and Clytie on the bank" title="Ethan and Clytie on the bank" /> -</div> - -<p>“That sounds a little sacrilegious,” -she said. “Besides—<em>humble</em>?”</p> - -<p>“Humble, yes,” he answered. “I -can’t think of a better word, unless it -is ‘abashed.’”</p> - -<p>“But why do you call yourself an -instrument of Providence? Because -you live there?”</p> - -<p>“‘That sounds a little sacrilegious,’” -he quoted. “I meant that if -you had gone to church you would -have made yourself very warm and possibly -returned with a headache. I -have saved you from that.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you! But of course if it -hadn’t been for the introduction I -couldn’t have stayed!”</p> - -<p>“That is understood,” he responded -with becoming gravity. She smiled -across as though amused by some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -thought, and Ethan felt vaguely uncomfortable.</p> - -<p>“It’s possible,” she said thoughtfully, -“that you might have found a -mutual acquaintance after all to perform -the ceremony for you.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I dare say; one usually can if -one hunts long enough. It’s a common -enough process, and not especially difficult. -For instance, I ask, ‘You are -acquainted in Boston, Miss Dev—Miss -Unknown!’ You reply ‘Slightly, Mr. -Parmley.’ ‘Perhaps you know the -Smiths?’ ‘Smith, Smith? N—no, I -don’t think so. Are they friends of -the Joneses?’ ‘I dare say; I’ve -never met the Joneses. Come to think -of it, though, there were some Joneses -visiting the Robinsons at Nahant last -summer; he is a banker, I think; there -were two daughters and a son just entering -college,’ ‘Oh, were you at Nahant?’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -you inquire. ‘Then perhaps -you met the Browns there?’ ‘Yes.’ -‘Really? Isn’t that jolly? Did you -know Gwendolin?’ ‘Well, rather!’ -I reply in a tone insinuating that it -was rather desperate while it lasted. -‘Isn’t that odd?’ you exclaim. ‘Yes, -funny how small the world is, isn’t -it?’ I remark with startling originality. -Then we’re acquainted. Yes, it’s -simplicity itself.”</p> - -<p>“It certainly sounds so!” she -laughed. “Let us try it!”</p> - -<p>“Very well.”</p> - -<p>She frowned intently for a moment, -then,</p> - -<p>“Are you acquainted in Stillhaven, -Mr. Parmley?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Why, yes,” he answered, in surprise.</p> - -<p>“Then perhaps you know the—the -Penniwells?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Sorry to say I don’t,” he replied, -laughing.</p> - -<p>“No? They live in the next house -to the hotel.”</p> - -<p>“Hotel? Ah, I think I’ve met the -Hotels! Was there a son about my -age, with——”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be absurd!” she laughed. -“We’ll never get on if you don’t go -by the rules.”</p> - -<p>“I thought I was,” he answered.</p> - -<p>“Let me see! Oh, yes, the -Graveses, do you know them?”</p> - -<p>“Why, yes; do you?” he answered -interestedly.</p> - -<p>“I’ve met them.”</p> - -<p>“Vincent is a great friend of -mine,” he said eagerly. “I was on -my way to visit them for a while when—when I -stopped here.”</p> - -<p>“Really?” she cried. “How -small the world is, after all!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> - -<p>They laughed together. Then,</p> - -<p>“And you know Vin?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I—I’ve met him,” she replied. -Her tone hinted of embarrassment.</p> - -<p>“Oh!” said Ethan thoughtfully. -Had he discovered the explanation of -Vincent’s puzzling warning? Was the -girl before him the “preserves” referred -to by his friend? Ethan’s -heart sank for a moment. Nonsense! -She had plainly implied that she knew -him only slightly, in which case she -didn’t belong any more to Vin than -to him. “You don’t know him -very well, then?” he questioned -anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you a—well, just a weeny -bit inquisitive?” she asked smilingly.</p> - -<p>“It may sound so,” he acknowledged, -“but, you see, it means a good -deal to me; it’s rather important.”</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_127.jpg" width="600" height="238" - alt="swan" title="swan" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Important?” she repeated wonderingly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, you see——” But of course -he couldn’t explain why it was important. -So he floundered helplessly a -moment. “Yes—that is—well, they -are very good friends of mine, Vin especially, -and—”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you feared perhaps I wasn’t -a proper person for them to know?”</p> - -<p>“Good heaven, no!”</p> - -<p>“Then I don’t see——!”</p> - -<p>“I don’t blame you,” he said discouragedly. -“Really, I was only talking -nonsense. I—I thought that if -you knew them well, and I knew them -well, then we—we might know each -other well!”</p> - -<p>She gazed at him sorrowfully a moment. -Then she shook her head disappointedly.</p> - -<p>“No,” she said, “no, that wasn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -at all what you meant. I suppose even -studying for the law has its effect.”</p> - -<p>He laughed embarrassedly.</p> - -<p>“May I see what you are reading?” -he asked.</p> - -<p>She lifted the volume from her lap, -gravely took a folded handkerchief -from between the leaves where it had -been doing duty as a mark, and handed -him the book.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry you can’t trust me,” he -laughed.</p> - -<p>“So am I,” was the regretful response. -“It is terrible to have a -friend both a—a prevaricator and a—a—a——”</p> - -<p>“Embezzler,” he suggested helpfully. -“Yes, it is bad. ‘Love Sonnets -from the Portuguese,’” he continued, -reading the title. “May I ask -if you were going to take this to -church with you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I hadn’t thought of it. I suppose, -like most men, you consider them silly -and sentimental,” she challenged.</p> - -<p>He shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Sweet and sentimental, rather,” -he replied.</p> - -<p>“You could hardly be expected to -care for them, I suppose,” she said. -“Your tastes, if I recollect aright, -run rather toward ‘The Ingoldsby -Legends’!”</p> - -<p>“That is indeed unkind,” he murmured -sorrowfully. “No, I am very -fond of these, this one especially; if -it were not Sunday I would read it.”</p> - -<p>“What has Sunday got to do with -it?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps nothing,” was the reply. -“I dare say it is only my Puritanism -cropping out. You know we New -Englanders find it very difficult to -reconcile pleasure with religion. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -can fancy the ghost of my great-great-great-grandfather, -in sugar-loaf hat -and with beruffed neck, standing over -there in the shadows, holding his -hands aloft in holy horror at the sight -of me sitting here on Sunday morning -with a volume of love-poems in my -hands.”</p> - -<p>“What nonsense!” she cried indignantly. -“Isn’t love just as holy -as—as anything? Isn’t——” She -stopped abruptly and Ethan, lifting -his head, found her gazing toward him -with something almost like horror in -her wide eyes.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” he cried anxiously.</p> - -<p>She shook her head and dropped her -gaze to the hands folded on her knees.</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” she said very quietly. -She laughed softly, uncertainly. -“Will you give me my book, please?” -she asked.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Of course,” he answered, still -puzzled. Then, as he started to hand -it to her, it opened at the fly-leaf and -he drew it back. “Laura Frances -Devereux,” he read aloud. He smiled -quizzically as he returned the volume.</p> - -<p>“That proves nothing,” she replied -defiantly. “I—I might have borrowed -it.”</p> - -<p>“True, circumstantial evidence is -not absolutely conclusive, unless—unless -there is a good deal of it!”</p> - -<p>“You may think what you choose,” -she answered lightly. She looked at -her watch and prepared to rise. This -time Ethan was ready. She gave him -her hand and he helped her to her feet. -The hand drew itself gently but determinedly -out of his and he let it go -without a struggle.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 454px;"> -<img src="images/i_132.jpg" width="454" height="600" - alt="Ethan assists Clytie" title="Ethan assists Clytie" /> -</div> - -<p>“Must you go?” he asked.</p> - -<p>She nodded. Then she laughed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> - -<p>“If you only knew what trouble -I have getting here you’d appreciate——” -She broke off, reddening a little.</p> - -<p>“I do appreciate,” he said earnestly. -“And I thank you very much for -your kindness this morning to a very -undeserving chap. I—do you know, -Miss Devereux, I came within an ace -of calling at The Larches yesterday -afternoon?”</p> - -<p>She looked up quickly.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I went for a walk in the afternoon -and found myself at the gate -over there. I could see that you had -a fire in the library and——”</p> - -<p>“But how did you know it was the -library?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Why—er—wasn’t it? I supposed -it was. Anyhow, it looked dreadfully -tempting. I pictured you sitting in -front of it, and I very nearly paid a -call.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’m glad you didn’t,” she -breathed.</p> - -<p>“Why?”</p> - -<p>“Because—why, you don’t know -me!”</p> - -<p>“I should have asked for your -father and introduced myself.”</p> - -<p>“Well, you certainly don’t lack assurance!” -she gasped.</p> - -<p>“It would have been all right,” he -assured her cheerfully.</p> - -<p>“You wouldn’t have found him, -though,” she said dryly.</p> - -<p>“Then I would have asked for Mrs. -Devereux, and, failing her, Miss Devereux. -You see, yesterday I was a bit -desperate,” he added smilingly.</p> - -<p>“Desperate! I should say foolhardy!”</p> - -<p>“Why? Because I wanted to see -you? Look here, please; why -shouldn’t I call on you at the house?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -As I’ve told you, I’m fairly respectable. -And—and I want to see you—more -often! I suppose it sounds -dreadfully cheeky,” he went on softly, -“but I want you to like me, and it -doesn’t seem to me that I get a fair -show.”</p> - -<p>The color came and went in her -cheeks and the violets were hidden -from him.</p> - -<p>“It certainly does sound—cheeky, -as you call it,” she said after a moment, -rather unsteadily. “Considering -that you have seen me but four -times.”</p> - -<p>“Five, if you please. Besides, I -don’t see that that matters. In fact, -I rather think the mischief was done -the first time!”</p> - -<p>He captured her hand and for a moment -it only fluttered in his grasp. -Then it tried for liberty, but unsuccessfully.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -A moment passed, and,</p> - -<p>“Are you making love to me, Mr. -Parmley?” she asked, with a little -amused laugh. It was like a cold -douche, but he resisted his first impulse -to release her.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 445px;"> -<img src="images/i_136.jpg" width="445" height="600" - alt="Ethan shskes hands with Clytie" title="Ethan shskes hands with Clytie" /> -</div> - -<p>“Yes, I am,” he answered stoutly. -“That’s just what I’m doing! And -I’m going to keep on doing it until -I’m convinced that there’s no hope for -me. Please don’t struggle,” he continued, -capturing her other hand also. -“I’ll let you go in just a moment. -Maybe I’m behaving a good deal -like a bully, but I’m head-over-heels -in love with you, Laura, and——”</p> - -<p>“No, no! Please!” she cried, with -a little catch in her voice.</p> - -<p>“What—what have I done?” he -asked anxiously.</p> - -<p>“I—You mustn’t call me that!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Very well, I won’t—yet. But I -think of you as Laura——”</p> - -<p>“I don’t want you to!”</p> - -<p>“Then I’ll try not to,” he answered -gently. “But—couldn’t you make -me very happy by telling me that I’ve -got a chance with you, dear? Just the -ghost of a chance?”</p> - -<p>The bowed head shook negatively.</p> - -<p>“You won’t? Or—you can’t?”</p> - -<p>“I—I won’t,” she whispered.</p> - -<p>He uttered a cry and strove to draw -her toward him, but she resisted with -all her strength.</p> - -<p>“Please! <em>Please!</em>” she gasped.</p> - -<p>“I’ll—try not to,” he said ruefully. -“But I may call at the house? -You’ll let me do that, won’t you?”</p> - -<p>“I—suppose so,” she murmured -faintly.</p> - -<p>“To-day?” he cried. “To-morrow?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, no! Wait, please; let me -think.” She raised a pair of troubled -eyes to his for an instant. “I must -see you again first. I have something -to tell you; something which may -make a difference. Perhaps—perhaps -you won’t want to see me again—then!”</p> - -<p>He laughed disdainfully.</p> - -<p>“Try me! And when will you tell -me this—this wonderful news? To-morrow -morning? Here?”</p> - -<p>She nodded and strove to release -her hands. After a moment of indecision -he let them go. She stood before -him motionless an instant. Then -she raised her head slowly and he saw -that her eyes were wet. With an inarticulate -cry of pain and longing he -started forward, but she held a hand -against him.</p> - -<p>“Please!” she said again, imploringly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -His outstretched arms dropped -to his sides. “If I shouldn’t come—to-morrow——” -she began.</p> - -<p>“But you’ve promised!”</p> - -<p>“I know.” She nodded assent. -“But—but if I shouldn’t——”</p> - -<p>“But you will!” he cried. “I -shall be here, dear! Don’t fail me! -If you don’t come I’ll go to the -house!”</p> - -<p>“Then I must,” she said with a little -smile. “And now——” <a href="#i_138fp">She went -to him and placed her hands on his -shoulders</a> and felt him tremble under -her touch. She raised her eyes, violets -darkened and dewy with unshed -tears, to his. “Will you do one thing -for me?”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 419px;"> -<a id="i_138fp"> - <img src="images/i_138fp.jpg" width="419" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_139">SHE WENT TO HIM AND PLACED HER HANDS ON HIS SHOULDERS.</a></div> -</div> - -<p>His eyes answered.</p> - -<p>“Then, please,—” she dropped her -head in sudden shame—“kiss me -once—and let me go.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p> - -<p>His arms closed about her hungrily, -but she held back.</p> - -<p>“Promise!” she whispered -“Promise to let me go!”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he groaned, “I promise.”</p> - -<p>For an instant he was looking far, -far down into dim, wonderful violet -depths....</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_009_140.jpg" width="600" height="397" - alt="Ethan in a rowboat" title="Ethan in a rowboat" /> -</div> - -<p>Then he was alone. He turned unseeingly -toward the canoe and trod -upon the book which lay forgotten on -the grass. Stooping, he rescued it and -dropped it into his pocket.</p> - -<p>“I’m getting to be an awful thief!” -he murmured tremulously.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="X" id="X">X.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>A glorious golden afternoon, a scintillant -silvery night, and then—Dawn’s -pink finger-tips aquiver on -the edges of the hills and the bursting -forth of a new day to the exultant -overture of Nature’s orchestra.</p> - -<p>Ethan looked forth from the open -window on to the most beautiful sight -given to the eyes of mortals,—the -fresh, sparkling morning world of -summer seen through the magnifying -lenses of love. The orchard was fresh -and vivid with the tender greens of -sun-shot leaves and grass, and dark -and cool with pools of pleasant -shadow. Dew-gems shimmered under -the caressing breeze and the tips of -the spreading, reaching branches<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -nodded and whispered together. Beyond, -the little silver-voiced river -laughed amongst its shallows and -flashed in the sunlight. From the -marshland came the happy gurgle of -a flock of red-winged blackbirds, while -fainter, yet sweet and clear, the light-hearted -tinkle of the bobolink floated -across from the rising meadows. -Sleek, well-conditioned robins balanced -amidst the apple-trees and sang -contentedly between groomings of -their red waistcoats. And louder, -clearer, gladder sang Ethan’s heart.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;"> -<img src="images/i_141.jpg" width="250" height="600" - alt="riverside" title="riverside" /> -</div> - -<p>Dear reader, have you ever been -young and in love on a summer morning? -Do you recollect how intoxicating -was the soft, sweet breeze that -entered through the open window? -How like liquid gold the sunshine -spread across the sill and dripped -upon the floor? How every bird-note<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -was but a different rendering of the -one sweet name? How eager and impatient -you were to be out in the good -green world and how loth to cease -your dreaming long enough to dress? -What a vastly important thing was the -selection of a tie or a ribbon? I hope -that you remember these things if you -have forgotten all else!</p> - -<p>The lotus pool never glowed more -brilliantly, never sparkled more radiantly -than it did this morning. It -was not difficult to imagine that those -floating cups held the colors into which -Nature dipped her brushes ere she -painted the summer flowers. The lazy, -luxury-loving swans were dozing in -the sunlight on their tiny island. The -cascade plashed and tinkled over moss -and stone. The fringing trees blew -welcome shade upon the grassy sides -of the little basin. And Ethan, lifting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> -his dripping paddle as the canoe rippled -its way across the mirror-like -surface, drew a deep breath of the -scented air and experienced a sudden -bewildering joy of life, an almost paganish -exultation. It seemed to him -this morning that the world and he -drew breath together.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 311px;"> -<img src="images/i_042_143.jpg" width="311" height="600" - alt="foliage" title="foliage" /> -</div> - -<p>It was early when he floated into -Arcady and there were no violet eyes -to greet him. But his impatience was -soothed by the happiness which remembrance -gave him. He dreamed -there in the sunshine, lighting a cigarette -now and then and letting it burn -itself out unnoticed between his fingers. -White clouds floated across the -blue sky and across the surface of the -pool. Dragon-flies, their metallic-lustred -wings ablaze, darted and -turned. Birds sang and insects -buzzed, the breeze gossiped to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -leaves and the moments passed. -When he finally awoke fully from his -dreaming and looked wonderingly at -his watch the morning was almost -gone. He turned disappointed eyes -toward the brief vista afforded by the -jealous trees. No glimpse of white -drapery rewarded him. She had said -that she might not come. Why? -Vaguely troubled, he propelled the -canoe to the bank and stepped out. -Under the shade of the willow made -forever sacred by their meetings he -threw himself down and waited while -the long hand of his watch crept laggingly -half-way around the dial. But -patience had flown, and when the time -he had set himself had passed he -jumped to his feet and set off up the -lawn under the trees.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_017_144.jpg" width="600" height="312" - alt="Ethan in the pool" title="Ethan in the pool" /> -</div> - -<p>Presently the corner of the white -pergola sprang into view. Then the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -trees thinned away and he was looking -across an open, sun-bathed stretch -of lawn at the gleaming house. And -as he looked, himself a scarcely noticeable -figure against the green shadows -of the grove, the front veranda of the -house became suddenly peopled with a -girl in a white frock and a man in gray -flannels. They came together through -the doorway and paused side by side -at the top of the steps. Even at that -distance Ethan recognized them only -too well. The man had taken the -girl’s hand and was speaking to -her. Ethan watched for an instant -only, yet in that instant he saw with -a sudden sinking of the heart how the -girl’s head, the sunlight aglint on the -brown hair, lifted itself with a little -gesture of intimate happiness to her -companion. Then, in a sickening -panic lest he might see more, Ethan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -turned quickly and plunged back into -the shadows.</p> - -<p>All the way back to the Inn, with -every stroke and lift of the paddle, -a refrain hammered ceaselessly at his -brain: “No poaching on my preserves! -No poaching on my preserves!” -What an ass he had been -not to understand! He hated Vincent -as he had never hated anyone in his -life, realizing all the while the absolute -injustice of it. Why hadn’t he -guessed from Vincent’s note how the -land lay? He might have known that -Vincent could have referred to no one -but Her. But why couldn’t the fool -have come out honestly and told him? -A week ago, even three days ago -would have been time! Then, in the -next moment, he knew that that was -not so, that it had always been too -late, always since that first meeting!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> -Yet why, if she were Vincent’s, had -she allowed him to love her? Why -had she virtually acknowledged her -love for him? Why——</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_147.jpg" width="600" height="397" - alt="Ethan in a rowboat" title="Ethan in a rowboat" /> -</div> - -<p>He remembered that kiss with a -sudden choking, clutching sensation at -his throat. Had she meant nothing -by that? Nothing? No, she had -meant all, everything that he had -hoped! She did love him, and neither -Vincent Graves nor anyone else could -have her! But that exultation was -short-lived. What she had meant was -of little moment; she belonged to Vincent -by promise if by naught else, and -Vincent was his friend.</p> - -<p>Things were suddenly greatly simplified. -His tangled thoughts smoothed -themselves out and he gave a sigh -that was partly of relief. At least -his duty was plain. “No poaching -on my preserves!” He had only to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -heed that warning and take himself -out of the way. That thought steadied -him down and his pulses ceased their -deafening pounding. It wouldn’t be -easy, that duty! He knew that well -enough, although at this moment he -was viewing it almost calmly. When -the present excitement passed he -would find it hard going!</p> - -<p>The prospect of facing Vincent -troubled him more than anything else -as he drew the canoe from the water -and laid it on its rack under the trees. -Vincent was probably even now awaiting -him up there on the porch. For a -moment he thought of taking the canoe -again and stealing off up the stream -for a ways and then walking across to -the station and taking the train for—anywhere -out of all this! But it would -be a sneaking, cowardly thing to do. -Besides, sooner or later Vincent and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -he must meet, and as well now as any -time. He lighted a cigarette with -fingers that trembled a little and -walked up through the orchard.</p> - -<p>As he had expected, Vincent Graves -was awaiting him on the porch. He -was a tall, dark, fine-looking fellow, -with a deep, pleasant voice and a remarkable, -careless ease of manner; -just the sort of a chap, Ethan told -himself, that any sensible girl would -fall in love with. Vincent did not see -him for a moment, and in that moment -Ethan had opportunity to study his -friend with a new interest, view him -from a novel point. But he found he -could not be coldly critical; Vincent -was Vincent, wholly admirable and -lovable; and Ethan’s heart warmed -under a sudden inrush of affection as -he went forward with outstretched -hand.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Hello, Vin!” he said.</p> - -<p>Vincent swung about, seized the -hand and grasped it warmly.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_151.jpg" width="600" height="595" - alt="Ethan" title="Ethan" /> -</div> - -<p>“Why, you old chump!” he responded, -smiling broadly. “Aren’t -you ashamed to look me in the eye? -What have you been doing with yourself? -How’s mythology?”</p> - -<p>“When did you come up?” asked -Ethan, echoing the smile.</p> - -<p>“This morning. Stopped at——” -He looked at Ethan with a quick lowering -of the eyebrows. “Look here, -what’s the matter with you? You -have the cheerful, care-free countenance -of a gentleman strolling to the -gallows! Been ill?”</p> - -<p>“Ill?” laughed Ethan. “Certainly -not; never felt better in my -life.”</p> - -<p>“If you felt any better you’d -scream, eh? Well, you’ve been up to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -something, Ethan, and you can lie -yourself black in the face for all I -care. You’re going back with me this -evening; that’s settled. I came over -in your machine and for a wonder it -didn’t even spring a leak. I left it -at The Larches,” he went on in response -to Ethan’s questioning survey -of the driveway and stable-yard. “I -stopped there and made a call.” He -paused, smiling mysteriously.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said Ethan.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I—look here, let’s take a -walk. What time is it? What? Oh, -dinner be blowed! Come on, I want -to talk a bit. Hang it, Eth, I’ll have -to talk or bust up like one of your -tires!”</p> - -<p>“All right,” answered Ethan, without -enthusiasm. “Smoke?”</p> - -<p>Vincent accepted a cigarette and -when they had lighted up they passed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -down the steps and along the road, -under the arching elms, Vincent’s -hand on his friend’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“It’s largely your fault, old chap,” -he said presently. He chuckled to -himself a moment before continuing. -“You see, I got uneasy about your -sudden and mysterious affection for -this rural paradise. I’ve never heard -you enthuse about it before; in fact I -remember several violently disparaging -remarks on the subject of Riverdell. -So when you wrote that you -were stopping here a while to study -mythology I got scared. Understand?”</p> - -<p>“Perfectly! What are you jawing -about?”</p> - -<p>“Lord, you’re dense! I’ll explain -in words of one——”</p> - -<p>“Thanks.”</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 485px;"> -<img src="images/i_153.jpg" width="485" height="600" - alt="NO TRESPASSING" title="NO TRESPASSING" /> -</div> - -<p>“You see, Eth, you’re a very captivating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -beggar; you have a wonderful -way with the fair sex. For instance, -there was that girl at college——”</p> - -<p>“Cut it out,” growled Ethan.</p> - -<p>“Still touchy? Well, I wasn’t taking -any chances. Being interested -over this way myself I thought I’d better -take a run over and look after -things. Thought maybe you were -making love to my girl; poaching, you -know. Couldn’t have blamed you, old -chap, for she’s just about the swellest -thing you ever saw.”</p> - -<p>“So you came up to head me off, -eh?” inquired Ethan uninterestedly.</p> - -<p>“Exactly. And found to my surprise -that you hadn’t been near the -honey. You don’t know what you’ve -missed, Eth. They’re awfully nice -folks, the whole push; and they’d -have been tickled to death to have you -call. Why didn’t you?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Consideration for your future -happiness, Vin,” answered the other -calmly.</p> - -<p>“And you haven’t been near the -place?”</p> - -<p>“I got as far as the gate one day -when taking a walk.”</p> - -<p>“Well, will you tell me what in -blazes you’ve been doing here for the -last week?”</p> - -<p>“No.”</p> - -<p>Vincent studied him silently a moment.</p> - -<p>“All right, old chap; I don’t want -to be rudely inquisitive.”</p> - -<p>“You’re not; only don’t bother -your head about me. I’m off to-day, -anyhow.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you’re coming with me. The -mater made me swear by the graves -of my ancestors that I’d fetch you back. -And I’ve also promised to bring you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -to dinner to-night at the Devereuxs’.”</p> - -<p>“Sorry, Vin.”</p> - -<p>“You won’t?”</p> - -<p>“You’ve guessed it.”</p> - -<p>“Why not? Look here, I want you -to meet Laura!”</p> - -<p>Ethan winced.</p> - -<p>“That’s nice of you, Vin, but really -I can’t. I’ve simply got to be in Boston -this evening. Tell them, please, -that I’m very sorry, will you? And -that I hope to have the pleasure some -other time. Make it all right, like a -good chap.”</p> - -<p>“Well. But you’re coming over to -Stillhaven later, aren’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Maybe; perhaps in a week or -two.”</p> - -<p>“That’s rotten! Look here, Eth, -can’t I get in on this? I don’t know -what’s up, and I won’t ask, but if I -can help you any way——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Of course, old man. If you could -I’d say so. But there isn’t anything -wrong. I’ll explain later. It’s all -right.”</p> - -<p>“Doubt it. But you know best, I -dare say.”</p> - -<p>They turned by mutual consent and -strolled back toward the Inn. Presently -Vincent broke the silence again.</p> - -<p>“By the way, I haven’t told you -quite all, Eth; I’m engaged.”</p> - -<p>“The deuce you are!” Ethan simulated -intense surprise.</p> - -<p>“Yep!” Vincent grinned triumphantly.</p> - -<p>“Who to, you idiot?”</p> - -<p>“Why, haven’t I told you? To -Laura Devereux. They’re the folks -I’ve been talking about. They have -The Larches. You knew that!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but—when did it happen?”</p> - -<p>“About an hour or so ago. I didn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -mean to do it to-day, but—hang it, -Eth, I just simply had to! She’s the -best girl in the world, old chap, and -the prettiest too. I want you to see -her. When you do you’ll understand. -I told her about you and she wants me -to bring you up to-night.”</p> - -<p>“I hope you’ll be mighty happy, -Vin.” They shook hands there in the -empty road very gravely in spite of -their smiling faces. “And congratulate -her, too, old man. You’re rather -a good sort—at times. And of course -I’ll get you to take me to see her just -as soon as I come back. I’ll have to -get on the good side of her so she’ll -let me come and see you once in a -while when you’re married. When’s -it to be?”</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_158.jpg" width="600" height="591" - alt="the lane" title="the lane" /> -</div> - -<p>“Don’t be an ass!” grunted Vincent. -“As for when, well, we haven’t -settled that yet. Maybe it won’t be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -until Spring; I fancy she would -rather wait until then. And I ought -to get things fixed up a bit first, too,” -he added vaguely.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it won’t take you long to burn -a few letters and photographs,” answered -Ethan flippantly.</p> - -<p>“Go to the deuce! Do we eat -now?”</p> - -<p>After dinner they sat together on -the porch until such time as Vincent -thought he might venture to return -to The Larches, and Ethan listened -patiently and with attempted enthusiasm -to his friend’s mild ravings. -Vincent was ludicrously happy.</p> - -<p>“It’s all so darned funny!” he -kept repeating. “A few hours ago I -was scared to death for fear she -wouldn’t have me, and now——”</p> - -<p>“And now you’re a goner,” finished -Ethan.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Laugh if you want to,” replied -Vincent happily. “I expected you -would. I thought you’d cut up worse -than you have, old chap. My time -will come!”</p> - -<p>“When it does, you let me know,” -scoffed Ethan.</p> - -<p>“Look here, I wish you’d give up -this Boston business and go along with -me to-night, Eth. I—there’s a -reason.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense, you’re beyond reason. -Besides, I can’t give it up, Vin. -Sorry; wish I could.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, go to blazes! You could if -you wanted to. Look here, I lay you -any odds you like that you’ve been -caught yourself! You’ve met some -girl here and she’s gone home and -you’re tagging after! You ought to -have more pride, Eth!”</p> - -<p>“I dare say, Mr. Solomon. By the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -way, I don’t want to hurry you, but -it’s nearly half after two, and——”</p> - -<p>“The deuce it is!” Vincent leaped -to his feet and Ethan laughed loudly -and cruelly. Vincent viewed him in -amazement a moment and then joined.</p> - -<p>“Talk about tagging!” chuckled -Ethan.</p> - -<p>“You haven’t seen her, you old -scoffer,” responded his friend.</p> - -<p>At a little after three Ethan tossed -his luggage into the car, climbed in -beside the unruffled Farrell and swung -the big blue monster toward Boston. -And while it ate up the long miles -Ethan, his hands on the wheel, scowled -miserably ahead and honestly strove -to forget that he had ever stumbled -into Arcady.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 495px;"> -<img src="images/i_057_161.jpg" width="495" height="600" - alt="riverside meadow" title="riverside meadow" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XI" id="XI">XI.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>A few days later Ethan walked into -the office of the law firm in Providence, -hung his hat on a hook in the closet -and blandly inquired for his desk. -The members of the firm discussed it -later in the privacy of the inner office.</p> - -<p>“Looks as though he might be in -earnest, anyway,” suggested the -senior. “Apparently not afraid of -work, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Something funny about it,” replied -the junior, who was a bit of a -pessimist. “It isn’t like a fellow of -his sort to give up his summer and -buckle down to reading law in July.” -He shook his head with misgivings. -“It won’t last, mark my word.”</p> - -<p>But it did. Business was slack<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -throughout the hot weather and Ethan -had plenty of time for reading; and -he made the most of it. Several letters -came from Vincent reminding him -of his promise and urging him to come -down to Stillhaven for a while. But -always Ethan pleaded press of duties, -until Vincent, whose own law shingle -had been hanging out for a year and -who had yet to find business pressing, -felt more convinced than ever that his -friend had, to use his own expression, -“come a cropper somehow!”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_079_162.jpg" width="600" height="187" - alt="the pool" title="the pool" /> -</div> - -<p>In September Vincent ran down and -spent Sunday. Ethan didn’t press -him to come again, for his conversation -was not of a sort calculated to -reconcile a disappointed lover to his -lot. The Devereuxs were still at -Riverdell, but were returning to their -Boston apartments the last of the -month.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> - -<p>“She hasn’t forgiven you for not -calling,” warned Vincent, “and you’ll -have to eat dirt when you do see her, -old chap.”</p> - -<p>Ethan expressed entire willingness -to grovel, but flatly refused to set a -date for the proceedings. Vincent -departed somewhat huffed, and for -some time there was a perceptible -coolness between them. Ethan regretted -it, but he wasn’t ready yet -to trust himself in the rôle of Vincent’s -friend.</p> - -<p>His first vacation since he had gone -to work came early in October. Then -a letter from a real estate agent who -had the renting of his property made -a journey to Riverdell advisable. He -left Providence, with Farrell, in the -car one Friday morning, intending to -stay in Riverdell over Saturday, and -at two o’clock swung the machine in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -through the big gate of The Larches. -It had been a glorious brisk day, they -had made record time and Ethan’s -spirits had been high. But now, as -they rumbled slowly up the circling -driveway, old memories were asserting -themselves and buoyancy gave -place to depression. The maples were -aflame in the afternoon sunlight, the -Virginia creeper about the porches -was radiantly crimson, and along the -gleaming white pergola bunches of -purple grapes were still aglow. But -for all this The Larches had a lonesome -look. The windows on the lower -floor were shuttered and told eloquently -of desertion.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_165.jpg" width="600" height="474" - alt="a well-kept driveway" title="a well-kept driveway" /> -</div> - -<p>Ethan’s summons at the bell went -unanswered for a time. Then footsteps -sounded on the marble tiles -inside and the big door swung open, -revealing a comfortably stout, double-chinned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -woman who wiped her damp, -red hands on her blue calico apron.</p> - -<p>“Why, Mr. Ethan!” she exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“Yes, it’s I, Mrs. Billings,” he replied. -“Farrell, take the car around -to the stable and I’ll have William -open up for you.”</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 186px;"> -<img src="images/i_166.jpg" width="186" height="600" - alt="big blue touring car" title="big blue touring car" /> -</div> - -<p>He stepped into the dimly lighted -hall, already filled with the chill of approaching -winter, and looked about -him. Everything was apparently the -same in spite of its recent occupancy. -The house had been rented furnished, -and plainly the Devereuxs had been -satisfied to leave things as they had -found them. He took off his coat and -tossed it on to the big old-fashioned -mahogany couch. Mrs. Billings, the -housekeeper, was still chattering -volubly.</p> - -<p>“If we’d known you was coming,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -sir, we’d have had the blinds open and -the fires lighted.”</p> - -<p>“Never mind,” answered Ethan. -“Have your husband build a fire in -the library and in my room. I shan’t -be here beyond Sunday morning. -You can give me my meals in the -library. I had a letter from Stearns -a day or so ago telling me that the -Devereuxs had left and asking -whether I wanted to rent for the winter. -I don’t believe I do. I don’t -think I shall rent again at all. -Well how have you been, you and -that good-for-nothing husband of -yours?”</p> - -<p>“Nicely, sir, for myself, thank you. -And Jonas, he isn’t one of the complaining -sort, sir, but he do have the -rheumatism something awful in wet -weather. And how has your health -been, Mr. Ethan?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I’ve been frightfully healthy, -thank you. Where’s your husband?”</p> - -<p>“I’ll call him, sir, at once. He’s -out somewheres on the grounds, sir. -And I’ll have a fire lit in no time, sir. -He’ll be very pleased to see you, sir, -will Jonas.” She stopped at the end -of the hall and sank her voice to a -hoarse whisper. “I fear he’s getting -old and failing, Mr. Ethan,” she said -despondently. “It—it’s his head sir.”</p> - -<p>“Eh?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir. Along in June it was, -Mr. Ethan, or maybe early in the -month following, sir, that he came in -quite excited like and wild, saying as -he had seen you with his own eyes -over toward the grove there. Yes, sir. -‘Jonas,’ says I, ‘it’s the sun.’ ‘No, -’taint,’ says he. ‘I saw him with -my own eyes,’ says he, ‘a-standing -under the trees. And when I looked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -again he was gone,’ he says. It gave -me quite a shock, sir, as you might -say.”</p> - -<div class="figrighttop" style="width: 135px;"> -<img src="images/i_169top.jpg" width="135" height="467" - alt="lakeside" title="lakeside" /> -</div> - -<div class="figrightbottom" style="width: 341px;"> -<img src="images/i_169bottom.jpg" width="341" height="134" - alt="lakeside" title="lakeside" /> -</div> - -<p>“Naturally. And since then you -have observed no other symptoms?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, not particular, but he do -seem a heap fonder of his victuals -than he used to, and I’ve heard tell as -that’s a sure sign of a failing intellect, -Mr. Ethan.”</p> - -<p>“In the case of your victuals, Mrs. -Billings,” replied Ethan, “I’d say it -was an indication of wisdom.”</p> - -<p>The housekeeper bridled and -beamed.</p> - -<p>“But, really,” continued Ethan, -smiling, “I wouldn’t worry about -Billings. The fact is, I was down -here for a day or so about the time -you speak of.”</p> - -<p>“Here, sir? And you never came -to see us, sir?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span></p> - -<p>“There—er—there were reasons, -Mrs. Billings. And now how about -that fire? And send your husband out -to unlock the carriage house, please.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, directly, sir. And Jonas -really saw you, Mr. Ethan, same as -he said he did?”</p> - -<p>“I think it more than likely, Mrs. -Billings.”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s a great load off my -mind, sir. Softening of the brain do -be so unfortunate!”</p> - -<p>Later, just at dusk, Ethan emerged -from the library on to the broad -cement-paved porch at the side of the -house. Pausing to light a cigarette, -he passed down the stone steps to the -pergola and traversed its length. -Fallen leaves rustled softly under his -feet and the purple clusters showed -the effects of the frost. Once out of -the arbor, his steps led him almost<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -unconsciously across the open lawn, -russet now and streaked with the long -sombre shadows of the trees. He -found himself swayed by two desires; -one to see the lotus pool again, the -other to avoid it. He went on through -the twilight grove, filled with a gentle—I -had almost said pleasant—sadness. -Underfoot the ground was carpeted -with the red leaves of the -maples. Here and there a white birch -stood like a pale gold flame in the -dying sunlight. The dark green -larches alone held themselves unchanged.</p> - -<p>The pool was sadly different. Yellowing -lily-pads floated upon the surface, -but no blossoms caught the slanting -rays of the sun. Ethan sat down -under the willow, took his knees into -his arms and puffed blue smoke-wreaths -into the amber light. Presently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -a shadow presence came and sat -beside him. The presence had violet -eyes and red, red lips that smiled wistfully. -He didn’t turn his head, for he -knew that if he did he would find himself -again alone. And presently they -talked.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 244px;"> -<img src="images/i_172.jpg" width="244" height="600" - alt="Clytie" title="Clytie" /> -</div> - -<p>“You were very cruel,” he said -sadly.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t mean to be,” she answered.</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t think you did. You—you -just didn’t think, I suppose. -It was all a bit of good fun with -you. But—it played the deuce with -me.”</p> - -<p>“Did it?” she asked regretfully.</p> - -<p>“But I’m not blaming you—now,” -he went on. “I did at first. It -seemed needlessly cruel and heartless. -But I understand now that it was all -my fault. You see, dear, I took it for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -granted, I thought, that you—cared—the -way I did. It was my silly conceit.”</p> - -<p>He thought he heard a little sob beside -him, but he resisted the temptation -to turn and look.</p> - -<p>“If only there hadn’t been that -kiss,” he continued dreamily. “That—I’ve -never quite understood that. -Sometimes—I dare say it’s my conceit -again—but sometimes I can’t help -thinking that you did care—a little—just -then! That is the hardest to forgive, -dear,—and forget, that kiss. If -it wasn’t for the memory of that I -think I could stand it better. Why -did you do it? <em>Why?</em>”</p> - -<p>There was no answer save the sighing -of a little breeze which crept down -the slope in a floating shower of dead -leaves.</p> - -<p>“Ah, but I want to know!” he insisted -doggedly. “Was it just in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -fun? Was it merely in pity? It -couldn’t have been, I tell you! You -never kissed me like that for pity, -dear! There was love in your eyes, -sweetheart; I saw it; fathoms deep in -that purple twilight! Love, do you -hear? You can’t deny it, you can’t! -And you trembled in my arms! Why -did you do it?” he asked sharply.</p> - -<p>He turned impetuously,—and -sighed. He was all alone. The presence -had fled.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_174.jpg" width="600" height="179" - alt="the pool" title="the pool" /> -</div> - -<p>He tossed aside the dead cigarette -in his hand and shivered. The breeze -was growing as the day passed, a chill -October breeze laden with the heavy, -melancholy aroma of dying leaves. -He arose and retraced his steps to -the house.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XII" id="XII">XII.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>Ethan drank the last drop of excellent -black coffee in the tiny cup and -swung his chair about so that he faced -the cheerfully crackling logs in the -library fire-place. He had enjoyed his -dinner, and he began to feel delightfully -restful and drowsy. The day -spent in the open air, with the wind -rushing past him, the hearty repast -and now the dancing flames were all -having their natural effect. He -reached lazily for his cigarette case, -his gaze travelling idly over the high -mantel above him. Then his hand had -dropped from his pocket and he was -on his feet, peering intently at a small -photograph tucked half out of sight -behind one of the old Liverpool<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -pitchers which flanked the clock. A -moment after he had it in his hands -and was bending over it in the glare -of the light from the chandelier.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 136px;"> -<img src="images/i_026_175.jpg" width="136" height="600" - alt="brass candlestick" title="brass candlestick" /> -</div> - -<p>It was evidently an amateur production, -but it was good for all that. -And Ethan was troubling his head not -at all as to its origin or its merits or -defects. It was sufficient for him that -it showed a small, graceful figure in -white against a background of foliage, -and that the eyes which looked -straight into his from under the waving -hair with its golden fillet were -Hers. It was Clytie. One hand rested -softly on a flower-clustered spray of -azalea, one bare sandaled foot -gleamed forth from under the straight -white folds of the peplum and the -lips were parted in a little startled -smile. Ethan devoured it eagerly -while his heart glowed and ached at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> -once. He remembered telling her that -he would like to see those pictures, -and remembered her laughing response: -“I’m afraid you never will!” -And now he was looking at one of -them after all! And he was still looking -when the gardener entered with -the replenished wood-basket.</p> - -<p>“Where did this come from, Billings?” -Ethan asked carelessly.</p> - -<p>Billings set down his burden and -crossed to the table. He was a small -man, well toward sixty, with his -weather-beaten face shrivelled into -innumerable tiny, kindly wrinkles. -In spite of his years, however, he -showed no signs of the mental degeneration -which his wife had feared. -He came and looked near-sightedly at -the card which Ethan held out.</p> - -<p>“Why, sir, Lizzie came across that -in one of the upstair rooms when she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -was cleaning up after the folks went -away and she put it on the mantel -here, thinking maybe it was valuable -and they’d send back for it.”</p> - -<p>“I see.” Ethan laid it on the table, -his eyes still upon it. “I don’t think -they’ll want it. Doubtless Miss Devereux -has plenty more.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; they took a good many, -sir, between them.”</p> - -<p>“They? Oh, she had a friend with -her?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir. Miss Hoyt. I remember -when they was taking those, sir. It -was early in the summer, soon after -they came. The young ladies they -dressed themselves up in those queer -things—sort o’ like sheets, they was, -sir—” the gardener’s voice became -faintly apologetic, as though he had -not quite approved of such doings—“and -went out on the lawn one forenoon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -They got me to cut away a bit -of the branches, sir, right here.” -Billings indicated the upper left-hand -corner of the picture. “She said she -had to have more light. It wasn’t -much, sir; just a few old twigs; no -harm done, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Of course not. It was—Miss -Devereux asked you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; Miss Laura they called -her. A very pleasant young lady, -sir.”</p> - -<p>“Very pleasant, Billings,” assented -Ethan with a sigh.</p> - -<p>“You know her, then, sir?”</p> - -<p>“I—hardly that; I’ve met her.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.” Billings turned toward -the fire. “Shall I drop another -log on, sir?”</p> - -<p>“No, I shall be going to bed very -shortly.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, sir.” Billings mended<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -the fire, replaced the tongs and stood -carefully erect again, chuckling reminiscently. -Then finding Ethan’s eyes -on him questioningly he said: “she -took me, sir, too, with her camery.”</p> - -<p>“Really? I should like to see the -picture.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, sir. It’s in the -kitchen. Shall I fetch it? Lizzie says -it’s a very speakin’ likeness, sir, excepting -that I was sort o’ took by surprise, -so to say, and had no time to -spruce up.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, bring it in by all means.”</p> - -<p>The gardener hurried away and -Ethan turned again to the picture. -When Billings returned Ethan said -carelessly:</p> - -<p>“By the way, if your wife asks -about this you can tell her I have—er—taken -charge of it. Ah, this is the -picture, eh? Why, I’d call that excellent,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -Billings, excellent! Truly, a -very speaking likeness. You say Miss -Devereux took this?”</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 441px;"> -<img src="images/i_180.jpg" width="441" height="600" - alt="Billings" title="Billings" /> -</div> - -<p>“Yes, sir, the same day they was -taking the others, sir. I had lopped -off the branches and was standin’ by -watching, sir, and after she had taken -that one there, sir, she said to me: -‘Billings, would you mind if I took’——”</p> - -<p>“Not after she’d taken this, Billings,” -interrupted Ethan, in the interests -of accuracy. “She didn’t take -this one, of course.”</p> - -<p>“I beg pardon, Mr. Ethan?”</p> - -<p>“Never mind. I only said you -didn’t mean that it was after she had -taken this one; it was another one you -meant.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, sir, it was that very one, -sir. I had just lopped off the branches——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> - -<p>“You don’t mean that she took her -own picture, surely?” asked Ethan -with a smile.</p> - -<p>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly.”</p> - -<p>“It was that one you have there, -sir, she took.”</p> - -<p>“This one? Now, look here, Billings, -let’s get this straightened out -while we’re at it. Do you mean that -Miss Devereux—mind, I’m talking of -<em>Miss Devereux</em>—do you mean that -Miss Devereux took this photograph -I have in my hands?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, that’s the one. I had -just lopped——”</p> - -<p>“Never mind the lopping,” interrupted -Ethan with smiling impatience. -“But tell me how she did it.”</p> - -<p>“Why, sir, she stood her camery -up a little ways off, sir; it had three -little legs onto it, sir; and she pressed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> -a little rubber ball, and the camery -went ‘click,’ sir, like that, sir,—‘click!’ -and——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, but—now look here, how -far off was the camera from—from -this place, where you had lopped the -branches?”</p> - -<p>“About twenty feet, sir, maybe.”</p> - -<p>“Well, will you kindly, tell me -how Miss Devereux managed to -squeeze the little rubber ball and -get into the picture at the same -time?”</p> - -<p>“Sir?”</p> - -<p>“What I mean is,” answered -Ethan patiently, “how could she have -been here—” tapping the photograph -he held—“and at the camera the -same instant?”</p> - -<p>That was evidently a poser. Billings -scratched the back of his head -dubiously. Finally,</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p> - -<p>“But she wasn’t there, sir!” he -explained.</p> - -<p>“Wasn’t where? At the camera?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; I mean no, sir. She -wasn’t there!” He pointed at the -picture.</p> - -<p>“Wasn’t here!” exclaimed Ethan. -“Then how—hang it, man, but here’s -her picture!”</p> - -<p>“Beg pardon, Mr. Ethan?” Billings -looked both pained and puzzled, -and shot a quick look of inquiry at -the dinner table.</p> - -<p>“I say here’s her picture, you -idiot!” repeated Ethan.</p> - -<p>“Whose picture, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Why, Miss Devereux’s!”</p> - -<p>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean by ‘no, sir?’ -I say——”</p> - -<p>A light broke upon Mr. Billings.</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon, Mr. Ethan,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -he explained hurriedly. “I see your -mistake, sir, but you said as how you’d -met the young lady, and I thought you -understood as how that wasn’t her, -sir.”</p> - -<p>“What? Who?”</p> - -<p>“Wasn’t Miss Devereux, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean that this isn’t Miss -Devereux here in this picture?” cried -Ethan.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir; that is, no, sir. That -isn’t her, Mr. Ethan.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t—! Then who is it?”</p> - -<p>“Miss Hoyt, sir. I thought you -under——”</p> - -<p>Ethan took Billings by the arms and -forced him into a chair.</p> - -<p>“You sit there and answer my -questions, Billings,” he commanded -excitedly. He held the photograph before -the gardener’s alarmed face.</p> - -<p>“Who is this in the picture?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Miss Hoyt, sir, as I was telling -you——”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense! You’re mistaken, -man! Look close; take it in your -hands! Don’t answer until you’ve -looked at it well. Where are your -spectacles?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t wear any, sir,” was the -dignified reply. “My eyes, Mr. -Ethan, are just as clear as ever they -were, sir. Why, I can see——”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, I beg your pardon, Billings, -but I have most particular -reasons for wanting to be certain -about this! Now—take a good look at -it!—now who is she?”</p> - -<p>“Miss Hoyt, sir, and if you was -to put me in jail the next minute, sir, -I wouldn’t say different! No, sir, not -if my life was depending on it, sir!”</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 491px;"> -<img src="images/i_186.jpg" width="491" height="600" - alt="Clytie—Miss Hoyt" title="Clytie—Miss Hoyt" /> -</div> - -<p>“And it’s not Miss Devereux?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No, sir, nor never was! Why, -Mr. Ethan, Miss Devereux, as you -must recall, sir, is quite tall and slim, -like—like a young birch, sir,—with -very dark hair. And Miss Hoyt, sir, -as you can see——”</p> - -<p>Ethan planted himself with his back -to the fire and lighted a cigarette with -trembling fingers.</p> - -<p>“Billings,” he said softly, “I’ve -been a damned fool!”</p> - -<p>“Yes—that is, I can’t believe it, -sir,” was the respectful answer. But -Billings’ expression said otherwise.</p> - -<p>“Now I want you to tell me all you -know about Miss Hoyt,” said Ethan. -“By the way, what was her first -name?”</p> - -<p>“Cicely, sir; Miss Cicely Hoyt.”</p> - -<p>“Cicely,” repeated Ethan softly. -“It just suits her!”</p> - -<p>“Beg pardon, sir?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh, never mind. Where does she -live?”</p> - -<p>Billings thought in silence a moment.</p> - -<p>“Ellington, sir,” he answered triumphantly, -evidently pleased at his -powers of memory.</p> - -<p>“Where the deuce is that, though?”</p> - -<p>“About the centre of the state, sir, -I think.”</p> - -<p>“This state, do you mean? Massachusetts?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, Massachusetts.”</p> - -<p>“And she was a friend of Miss -Devereux’s?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir. I gathered as how they -went to school together. And Miss -Hoyt’s father, sir, died a while back -and left her and her mother very -poorly off, sir. And the young lady -is employed in a library at Ellington, -as I understand it, sir, and her mother -is there, too, sir.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> - -<p>“In the library?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, in Ellington. They used -to live in Ohio, I believe.”</p> - -<p>Ethan was silent a moment, smoking -furiously. Then,</p> - -<p>“Tell Farrell to come in here at -once, Billings. And I’m much obliged -for what you’ve told me. Oh, wait, -Billings! Throw another log on the -fire first. I don’t want it to go out; -you and I have got lots to talk about -to-night!”</p> - -<p>Farrell came speedily.</p> - -<p>“Do you know where Ellington, -Massachusetts, is?” asked Ethan.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> - -<p>“How long a run is it?”</p> - -<p>Farrell produced a road map from -his coat pocket and bent over it under -the light.</p> - -<p>“Well, Mr. Parmley, I don’t know -how the roads are now, sir, but supposing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -they’re in fair condition we’d -ought to do it in about two and half -hours.”</p> - -<p>“Then if we left here at seven in -the morning we’d get to Ellington by -noon?”</p> - -<p>“Couldn’t help it, sir, barring accidents.”</p> - -<p>“There mustn’t be any accidents,” -answered Ethan, a bit unreasonably.</p> - -<p>“I’ll do my best, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Be ready to leave, then, promptly -at seven!”</p> - -<p>“Very well, sir.”</p> - -<p>Farrell went out and as the door -closed softly behind him Ethan, the -photograph in his hands, threw himself -into the chair before the fire and -beamed blissfully at the flames.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 270px;"> -<img src="images/i_190.jpg" width="270" height="378" - alt="Miss Hoyt" title="Miss Hoyt" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII">XIII.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>The library was filled with the -pallid twilight of a rainy day. Since -early morning the summit of Mount -Tom, a dozen miles to the westward, -had been enveloped in ponderous, -leaden clouds, and for two hours past -the storm, travelling along the Connecticut -Valley, had been deluging -the slopes with autumnal ferocity.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_191.jpg" width="600" height="167" - alt="rainy day" title="rainy day" /> -</div> - -<p>Through the rain-drenched windows -a cold white light entered, flooding the -stack room with its iron tiers of slumbering -volumes, and, here at the barrier-like -counter, illumining faintly -the rebellious brown hair of the girl -who, with pen in hand, bent over the -pile of catalogue cards. The library -was very still, so still that the sibilation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -of the moving pen sounded portentously -loud. Now and then the rustle -of a turning leaf or the scraping of -feet on the floor came from around the -corner of the arched doorway where -sat a solitary occupant of the reading -room. Save for these two the library -was deserted. The hands of the clock -above the commemorative tablet pointed -to a quarter past twelve and the -stack-boy and the assistant librarian -had both gone to their luncheons.</p> - -<p>A more prolonged scraping of feet, -followed by the sound of a moving -chair, caused the girl at the desk to -raise her head and pause at her work. -A little frown of annoyance gathered -and then gave place to a smile of -humorous resignation as footfalls -sounded on the echoing silence. From -the reading room emerged a tall, thin -youth of about twenty, a youth with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -pale, cadaverous face lighted by a -pair of patient, contemplative brown -eyes which looked strangely incongruous -and out of place. He carried -two books which he laid apologetically -on the counter.</p> - -<p>“Excuse me, Miss Hoyt,” he said -gently.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Mr. Winkley?” she asked, -looking up.</p> - -<p>“I am very sorry to trouble you, -but could you let me have Burton’s -Anatomy of Melancholy?”</p> - -<p>“Have—What did you say, -please?” she asked startledly.</p> - -<p>“Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy, -please,” he repeated in his patient -voice. She turned hurriedly and disappeared -into the stack room. Once -out of sight she leaned against one of -the cases and laughed silently and -hysterically.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Oh,” she thought, “if he doesn’t -stop it and go away I shall have to—to—I -shall go crazy!”</p> - -<p>Presently, with a final gasp, she -brushed the back of her hand across -her eyes and went on down the concrete -aisle in search of the volume. -Out at the counter, the youth, left to -himself, watched her while she was in -sight and then leaned across to peer -at the neatly arranged cards. She had -left her handkerchief beside her work. -With a timorous glance about him, he -reached forward, picked it up and with -a quick, vehement movement pressed -it to his thin, unsmiling lips. He held -it so a moment, his brown eyes staring -widely through the rain-bleared window -as though beholding visions. Then, -as her steps came back toward him, -he laid the handkerchief again in its -place, straightened himself and waited.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Here it is, Mr. Winkley,” she -said soberly.</p> - -<p>“Thank you. I am sorry to trouble -you,” he answered gravely.</p> - -<p>“It is only what I am here for,” -she answered coldly, taking up her pen -once more. He remained for an instant -looking at the bent head. Then, -lifting the Anatomy of Melancholy -from the counter, he turned and -walked slowly and quite noiselessly -back to his table. But as he went the -ghost of a sigh trembled across the -silence.</p> - -<p>The girl raised her head with a despairing -glance toward the reading -room, jabbed her pen viciously into -the ink-stand and went on with her -writing. The clock overhead ticked -slowly and softly. The rain <em>swished</em> -past the windows.</p> - -<p>But presently a new sound made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -itself heard. Dim at first, it grew -insistently until the girl heard it and -again lifted her head and listened with -a new light in her violet eyes.</p> - -<p><em>Chug-chug, chug-chug-chug, chug-chug!</em></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> -<img src="images/i_196.jpg" width="600" height="215" - alt="big blue touring car" title="big blue touring car" /> -</div> - -<p>Automobiles are not common in -Ellington, especially after the summer -colony departs, and the approach of -this one brought a tinge of color to -the soft cheeks and a flutter to the -heart of the librarian. So often during -the past three months she had listened -with straining ears to the panting -of an automobile on the road -below! Usually the sound had died -away again in the distance, and she -had told herself, sighing, that she was -very glad. But to-day the sounds increased -every instant. The <em>chug-chug</em> -was slower now and more labored; -the car had left the village road and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -was climbing the circling gravelled -drive to the library. Every beat -brought an answering beat from her -heart.</p> - -<p>Oh, it was foolish! she told herself -angrily. And she didn’t want it to -happen! She hoped it wouldn’t! -Resolutely she began her work again, -but the noise of the approaching machine -seemed to fill the world with a -tumult of sound. Then, close at hand, -the measured <em>chugs</em> suddenly became -hurried and incoherent, as though the -intruding monster was violently incensed -at being stopped. Then—silence, -appalling, portentous! With -white face the girl bent closer to her -desk, her pen tracing quivering figures -and letters. The outer door opened -and closed again with a muffled jar. -She heard the <em>swish ... swish</em> of -the inner doors as they swung inward<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> -and back. Firm footfalls sounded on -the oaken floor. Very different they -were from the soft tread of the library -habitué, and there was a determined, -resolute character to them that put the -brown-haired librarian in a panic. -Oh, how she wished that she had -fled while there had been time! She -no longer doubted; the unexpected, -which all along had been the expected, -had happened; the thing which she -had feared, and always hoped for, had -come to pass. The steps came nearer, -straight from the doorway, scorning -the longer and quieter paths provided -by the cocoa-fibre matting. The -brown head still bent over the desk. -Then the footsteps stopped. A terrible -silence fell over the room. There -was no help for it.</p> - -<p>Slowly, reluctantly the girl raised -her head.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV">XIV.</a></h2> -</div> - - -<p>Had they lived in the Age of Stone -that meeting might have proved far -more interesting for purposes of description. -As it was, both being fairly -conventional characters of the Twentieth -Century, the affair was disappointingly -commonplace.</p> - -<p>“How do you do, Miss Hoyt?” he -asked, smiling calmly and reaching a -hand across the counter. And,——</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 344px;"> -<img src="images/i_199_212.jpg" width="344" height="350" - alt="Cicely Hoyt" title="Cicely Hoyt" /> -</div> - -<p>“Why, Mr. Parmley!” she replied, -laying her own hand for an instant -in his.</p> - -<p>A close observer, and both you and -I, patient reader, pride ourselves -upon being such, would have noticed, -perhaps, that in spite of the commonplace -words and the unembarrassed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -manners, the man’s cheeks held an unaccustomed -tinge of color and the -girl’s face was more than ordinarily -pale. And could we have enjoyed a -physician’s privilege of examining the -heart-action at that moment we would -have straightened ourselves up with -very knowing smiles.</p> - -<p>“I’ve come,” he said, as the soft -hand drew itself away from his, “to -return a book. Is this the right -place?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she replied brightly.</p> - -<p>“Thank you. I don’t know very -much about libraries; I always avoid -them as much as possible as being -rather too exciting.” He took a small -book from the pocket of his coat and -laid it on the counter. “I’m afraid -there’s a good deal to pay on it. It’s -been out quite a while.”</p> - -<p>A tinge of color came into her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -cheeks as she took the volume. It -was a copy of “Love Sonnets from -the Portuguese.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’ll let you off,” she answered -gayly. “We sometimes remit the -fines when the excuse is good.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you. My excuse is excellent. -I only yesterday discovered the -identity of the loaner.”</p> - -<p>“Only yesterday?” she asked -carelessly, but with quickening heart.</p> - -<p>“To be exact, at about eight o’clock -last evening.” He dropped his voice -and leaned a little further across the -barrier. “You see, Miss Hoyt, you -fooled me very nicely.”</p> - -<p>“Excuse me, Mr. Parmley, you -fooled yourself. I told you—at least, -I never said I was Laura Devereux.”</p> - -<p>“No, you didn’t, but—I wonder -why I was so certain you were! If I -hadn’t been——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon, Miss Hoyt, -but will you please let me have Swinburne’s -Poems?”</p> - -<p>It was the solitary reader. The girl -disappeared into the stack room, leaving -the two men to a furtive and, on -one part at least, amused examination -of each other. The pale youth, however, -showed no amusement; rather -his look expressed suspicion and resentment. -Ethan, unable longer to -encounter that baleful glare without -smiling, turned his head. Then the -librarian came with the desired book.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Miss Hoyt!” said the -reader. With a final glance of dawning -enmity at Ethan he returned to his -solitude. Ethan looked inquiringly at -Cicely.</p> - -<p>“He’s perfectly awful!” she replied -despairingly. “He stays here -hours and hours at a time. I don’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -believe he ever eats anything. And -he calls for books incessantly, from -Plutarch’s Lives to—to Swinburne! -I think he is trying to read right -through the catalogue. And a while -ago he came for—what do you think?—The -Anatomy of Melancholy!”</p> - -<p>Ethan smiled gently.</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t be too hard on him,” -he said. “The poor devil is head-over-heels -in love with you.”</p> - -<p>The phrase brought recollections—and -a blush.</p> - -<p>“Nonsense! He’s just a boy!” -she answered.</p> - -<p>“Boys sometimes feel pretty deeply—for -the while,” he replied. “And -judging from his present line of reading, -I’d say that the while hasn’t -passed yet.”</p> - -<p>“It’s so silly and tiresome!” she -said. “He gets terribly on my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -nerves. He—he sighs—in the most -heartbreaking way!” She laughed a -little nervously. Then a moment of -silence followed.</p> - -<p>“Clytie,” he began,—“I am going -to call you that to-day, for I haven’t -got used to thinking of you as Cicely -yet—do you know why I came?”</p> - -<p>“To return the book,” she answered -smilingly.</p> - -<p>“No, not altogether. I came to ask -you something.”</p> - -<p>“I ought to feel flattered, oughtn’t -I? It’s quite a ways here from Providence, -isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Supposing we don’t pretend,” he -answered gravely. “We’ve gone too -far to make that possible, don’t you -think? And I’ve had a beast of a summer,” -he added inconsequently. “I -thought—do you know what I thought, -dear?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p> - -<p>“How should I?” she asked -weakly.</p> - -<p>“I thought you were Laura Devereux, -and that day when you didn’t -come I went for you and saw you and -Vincent on the porch. And afterwards -he told me he was engaged to -Miss Devereux, and—don’t you see -what it meant to me? And yesterday -I found out, quite by accident, and—” -he reached across and seized her hand -with a little laugh of sheer happiness—“I -haven’t slept a wink since! I—I -thought I’d never get here; the -roads were quagmires!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, why did you come?” she -asked miserably.</p> - -<p>“Why? Good Heaven, don’t you -know, girl?” He leaned across and -she felt his lips on the hand still -clasped in his.</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes, I know,” she cried.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -“But—you mustn’t love me! You -won’t when I’ve told you!”</p> - -<p>“Try me!” he said softly.</p> - -<p>“I’m going to. But—I can’t if you -have my hand.”</p> - -<p>“If I let it go may I have it -again?” he asked playfully.</p> - -<p>“You won’t want it,” was the grim -answer. “When you know what I am -really, you—won’t want—ever to see -me—again.”</p> - -<p>“That’s nonsense,” he answered -stoutly. But a qualm of uneasiness -oppressed him.</p> - -<p>She moved away from the counter -until she was out of reach of his -impatient hands.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 427px;"> -<img src="images/i_206.jpg" width="427" height="600" - alt="Cicely" title="Cicely" /> -</div> - -<p>“I meant you to fall in love with -me,” she said evenly, looking at him -with wide eyes and white face. “I -meant you to propose to me. I wanted -to—to marry you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> - -<p>He reached impetuously toward her -with a smothered word of endearment, -but she held up a hand.</p> - -<p>“Wait! You don’t understand! I—I -didn’t care for you. I was tired of -being poor and—and of this!” She -swept her glance about the bare and -silent library. “We used to have -money,” she went on, speaking rapidly. -“We lived in Ohio then, when -father was alive. Then I came east -to college. I met Laura there. We -were friends almost at once, although -she was in the class ahead of me. I -never finished, for my father died and -left us almost without a cent. I left -college and Laura’s father secured me -work here. I studied hard and last -year they made me librarian. Then -mother came east to live here with me. -Laura was always kind. When my -vacation came I went to visit her there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -at The Larches. Then you—I met -you.”</p> - -<p>She paused and dropped her gaze.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said softly. “And -then?”</p> - -<p>“You said you had some property -and you—you seemed nice and kind. -I was so weary of it all. I wanted—oh, -you know? I wanted to have -money, enough to live decently somewhere -else than here in this tomb they -call a town. I didn’t care. I set out -to make you—like me. I went back -there to the pool each day for just -that, until——”</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 320px;"> -<img src="images/i_208.jpg" width="320" height="1393" - alt="lily pond" title="lily pond" /> -</div> - -<p>“Well? Until?” he urged, smiling -across at her.</p> - -<p>“That is all,” she answered.</p> - -<p>“And it was all absolutely mercenary? -You never cared for me?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve told you,” she answered.</p> - -<p>“And—that last day, dear? It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -the same? You didn’t care then -either?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, what does it matter what happened -afterwards?” she cried agitatedly. -“It was what I had done, -don’t you see? It was the meanness, -the—the shamefulness of it!”</p> - -<p>“Well, but this ‘afterward’? -What of that?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” she answered firmly.</p> - -<p>Silence fell for a moment. They -looked across at each other steadily, -she meeting his smile defiantly. Then -the color crept up from throat to -cheeks and her eyes dropped.</p> - -<p>“Dear,” he said gently, “I don’t -care what happened before that -‘afterward.’ I loved you from the -first moment, but I’m not going to resent -it if it took you longer to discover -my irresistible charms. Why, -hang it all, I’m proud you should have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -thought me worth marrying even for -my money! But ‘afterward,’ dear? -When I kissed you? You can’t make -me believe there was no love then, -Cicely. And it is still ‘afterward,’ -and it always will be! Dear, Arcadia -is waiting for you. The lotus pool is -lonely without you. And so am I, -Cicely, Cicely dear!”</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 424px;"> -<img src="images/i_210.jpg" width="424" height="600" - alt="Ethan and Cicely" title="Ethan and Cicely" /> -</div> - -<p>“Oh, I knew you would try to forgive -me,” she cried miserably. “That -is why I—didn’t want you to come. -Because after awhile you would remember -and——”</p> - -<p>“Cicely!”</p> - -<p>“And you’d hate me!”</p> - -<p>“Cicely! Look at me, dear! I -want you to——”</p> - -<p>Soft footfalls reached them. The -pale youth was approaching, his arms -laden with books. Ethan bit his lip -and fell silent.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon, Miss Hoyt, but -would you mind giving me——”</p> - -<p>Ethan stepped toward him.</p> - -<p>“Here,” he said hurriedly, “here’s -just what you’re after. It’s no -trouble at all.” He forced the “Love -Sonnets from the Portuguese,” into -the youth’s hands and turned him -gently but firmly away from the -counter. The youth looked from the -book to Ethan.</p> - -<p>“How—how did you know?” he -stammered resentfully.</p> - -<p>“Never mind how, my boy. You’ve -got it. Run along.”</p> - -<p>After a moment of indecision, of -many silent looks of inquiry and dark -suspicion, the youth trod softly away -again. Ethan looked at Cicely and -they smiled together. Then she sank -into her chair at the desk and laughed -helplessly, and cried a little, too. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> -Ethan said no word until she had -pressed the handkerchief to her eyes -and turned toward him again. Then,</p> - -<p>“Will you come back to your lotus -pool, O Clytie?” he asked softly.</p> - -<p>“Wouldn’t it be rather cold and -damp this weather?” she asked with -a little trembling laugh.</p> - -<p>“I am going to have it steam-heated,” -he answered gravely. “I -was there yesterday, Clytie, and it -looked very forlorn without you, -dear.”</p> - -<p>“You were there?” she asked -wonderingly.</p> - -<p>“Yes. I forgot to tell you, didn’t -I? The Larches is mine, dear, and -the lotus pool shall be yours for life, -if you’ll let me come sometimes and -sit beside you under the trees on the -bank. Will you?”</p> - -<p>She dropped her eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> - -<p><a href="#i_212fp">“Will you?” he repeated.</a></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 526px;"> -<a id="i_212fp"> - <img src="images/i_212fp.jpg" width="526" height="600" alt="" title="" /> -</a><br /> -<div class="caption"><a href="#Page_213">“WILL YOU?” HE REPEATED.</a></div> -</div> - -<p>She moved nearer, with lowered -head, and laid her hands palms up on -the oaken counter. He took them and -drew her toward him. She raised a -rosy face toward him, the violet eyes -darting fearfully toward the reading -room. Ethan paused and looked -thoughtful.</p> - -<p>“In nice libraries,” he said, “they -have what they call the open stacks. -Is it so here?”</p> - -<p>She shook her head.</p> - -<p>“But—there might be exceptions?”</p> - -<p>“There might,” she answered -softly.</p> - -<p>“And do you think the librarian -would permit me to be an exception?”</p> - -<p>She nodded, blushing and provoking.</p> - -<p>He turned, walked to the end of the -counter and pushed aside the swinging<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -gate. At the door of the stack room -he paused.</p> - -<p>“I would like,” he said, “to find -that book of mythology wherein are -related the loves of Clytie and Vertumnus. -Could you show me where to -find it?”</p> - -<p>She darted a glance toward the entrance -to the reading room. Then she -followed him.</p> - -<p>“I believe,” she murmured, as her -hand stole into his, “I believe it is in -the farthest corner.”</p> - -<p>Their footfalls died away down the -concrete aisle. From the reading -room came the sound of a softly -turned leaf. Then the library was -very silent.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 344px;"> -<img src="images/i_199_212.jpg" width="344" height="350" - alt="Cicely Hoyt" title="Cicely Hoyt" /> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="tnote"> -<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes:</p> - -<p class="smfont">A List of Chapters has been provided for the convenience of the - reader.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to - follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the - illustration may not match the page number in Illustrations.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Maid in Arcady, by Ralph Henry Barbour - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MAID IN ARCADY *** - -***** This file should be named 60612-h.htm or 60612-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/6/1/60612/ - -Produced by Donald Cummings 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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