diff options
Diffstat (limited to '6719.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 6719.txt | 15165 |
1 files changed, 15165 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/6719.txt b/6719.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..80293b1 --- /dev/null +++ b/6719.txt @@ -0,0 +1,15165 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Earth Trembled, by E. P. Roe + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 + + +Title: The Earth Trembled + +Author: E. P. Roe + +Posting Date: September 8, 2012 [EBook #6719] +Release Date: October, 2004 +First Posted: January 19, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EARTH TREMBLED *** + + + + +Produced by Carel Lyn Miske, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "Well Chile, Wot You Wants Ter Say?"] + +The Works of E. P. Roe + + +_VOLUME FIFTEEN_ + + +THE EARTH TREMBLED + + +ILLUSTRATED + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER I + MARY WALLINGFORD +CHAPTER II + LOVE'S AGONY +CHAPTER III + UNCLE SHEBA'S EXPERIENCE +CHAPTER IV + MARA +CHAPTER V + PAST AND FUTURE +CHAPTER VI + "PAHNASHIP" +CHAPTER VII + MARA'S PURPOSE +CHAPTER VIII + NEVER FORGET; NEVER FORGIVE +CHAPTER IX + A NEW SOLACE +CHAPTER X + MISS AINSLEY +CHAPTER XI + TWO QUESTIONS +CHAPTER XII + A "FABULATION" +CHAPTER XIII + CAPTAIN BODINE +CHAPTER XIV + "ALL GIRLS TOGETHER" +CHAPTER XV + TWO LITTLE BAKERS +CHAPTER XVI + HONEST FOES +CHAPTER XVII + FIRESIDE DRAMAS +CHAPTER XVIII + A FAIR DUELLIST +CHAPTER XIX + A CHIVALROUS SURPRISE +CHAPTER XX + THE STRANGER EXPLAINS +CHAPTER XXI + UNCLE SHEBA SAT UPON +CHAPTER XXII + YOUNG HOUGHTON IS DISCUSSED +CHAPTER XXIII + THE WARNING +CHAPTER XXIV + "THE IDEA!" +CHAPTER XXV + FEMININE FRIENDS +CHAPTER XXVI + ELLA'S CRUMB OF COMFORT +CHAPTER XXVII + RECOGNIZED AS LOVER +CHAPTER XXVIII + "HEAVEN SPEED YOU THEN" +CHAPTER XXIX + CONSTERNATION +CHAPTER XXX + TEMPESTS +CHAPTER XXXI + "I ABSOLVE YOU" +CHAPTER XXXII + FALSE SELF-SACRIFICE +CHAPTER XXXIII + A SURE TEST +CHAPTER XXXIV + "BITTERNESS MUST BE CHERISHED" +CHAPTER XXXV + NOBLE REVENGE +CHAPTER XXXVI + A FATHER'S FRENZY +CHAPTER XXXVII + CLOUDS LIFTING +CHAPTER XXXVIII + "YES, VILET" +CHAPTER XXXIX + THE EARTHQUAKE +CHAPTER XL + "GOD" +CHAPTER XLI + SCENES NEVER TO BE FORGOTTEN +CHAPTER XLII + A HOMELESS CITY +CHAPTER XLIII + "THE TERROR BY NIGHT" +CHAPTER XLIV + HOPE TURNED INTO DREAD +CHAPTER XLV + A CITY ENCAMPING +CHAPTER XLVI + "ON JORDAN'S BANKS WE STAN'" +CHAPTER XLVII + LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF A NIGHT +CHAPTER XLVIII + GOOD BROUGHT OUT OF EVIL + + + + +THE EARTH TREMBLED + + + + +THE EARTH TREMBLED + + +CHAPTER I + +MARY WALLINGFORD + + +At the beginning of the Civil War there was a fine old residence on +Meeting Street in Charleston, South Carolina, inhabited by a family almost +as old as the State. Its inheritor and owner, Orville Burgoyne, was a +widower. He had been much saddened in temperament since the death of the +wife, and had withdrawn as far as possible from public affairs. His +library and the past had secured a stronger hold upon his interest and his +thoughts than anything in the present, with one exception, his idolized +and only child, Mary, named for her deceased mother. Any book would be +laid aside when she entered; all gloom banished from his eyes when she +coaxed and caressed him. + +She was in truth one to be loved because so capable of love herself. She +conquered and ruled every one not through wilfulness or imperiousness, but +by a gentle charm, all her own, which disarmed opposition. + +At first Mr. Burgoyne had paid little heed to the mutterings which +preceded the Civil War, believing them to be but Chinese thunder, produced +by ambitious politicians, North and South. He was preoccupied by the study +of an old system of philosophy which he fancied possessed more truth than +many a more plausible and modern one. Mary, with some fancy work in her +hands, often watched his deep abstraction in wondering awe, and +occasionally questioned him in regard to his thoughts and studies; but as +his explanations were almost unintelligible, she settled down to the +complacent belief that her father was one of the most learned men in the +world. + +At last swiftly culminating events aroused Mr. Burgoyne from his +abstraction and drove him from his retirement. He accepted what he +believed to be duty in profound sorrow and regret. His own early +associations and those of his ancestors had been with the old flag and its +fortunes; his relations to the political leaders of the South were too +slight to produce any share in the alienation and misunderstandings which +had been growing between the two great sections of his country, and he +certainly had not the slightest sympathy with those who had fomented the +ill-will for personal ends. Finally, however, he had found himself face to +face with the momentous certainty of a separation of his State from the +Union. For a time he was bewildered and disturbed beyond measure; for he +was not a prompt man of affairs, living keenly in the present, but one who +had been suddenly and rudely summoned from the academic groves of the old +philosophers to meet the burning imperative questions of the +day--questions put with the passionate earnestness of a people excited +beyond measure. + +It was this very element of popular feeling which finally turned the scale +in his decision. Apparently the entire Southern people were unanimous in +their determination "to be free" and to separate themselves from their old +political relations. His pastor with all other friends of his own rank +confirmed this impression, and, as it was known that he wavered, the best +and strongest men of his acquaintance argued the question with him. His +daughter was early carried away by the enthusiasm of her young companions, +nevertheless she watched the conflict in her father's mind with the +deepest interest. She often saw him walk the floor with unwonted tears in +his eyes and almost agony on his brow; and when at last, he decided in +accordance with the prevailing sentiment of his State, the Act of +Secession and all that it involved became sacred in her thoughts. + +She trembled and shrank when the phase of negotiation passed away, and war +was seen to be the one alternative to submission. She never doubted or +hesitated, however; neither did her father after his mind was once made +up. Every day the torrent of bitter feeling deepened and broadened between +them and the North, of which, practically, they knew very little. Even +such knowledge as they possessed had come through distorted mediums, and +now everything was colored by the blackest prejudice. They were led to +believe and made to feel that not only their possessions but their life +and honor were at stake. In early years Mr. Burgoyne had served with +distinction in the war with Mexico, and he therefore promptly received a +commission. + +The effect of her father's decision and action had been deepened a +hundred-fold by an event which occurred soon afterward. Among the +thousands who thronged to Charleston when Fort Sumter was attacked, was +the son of a wealthy planter residing in the interior of the State. This +young soldier's enthusiasm and devotion were much bruited in the city, +because, waiving wealth and rank, he had served as a private. His +fearlessness at Fort Moultrie enhanced his reputation, and when the small +garrison of heroes, commanded by Major Anderson, succumbed, Sidney +Wallingford found that he had been voted a hero himself, especially by his +fair compatriots with whom he had formerly danced when visiting the town. + +The young fellow's head was not easily turned, however, for when, at an +evening gathering, a group was lauding the great achievement he said +disdainfully, "What! thousands against seventy? Despise the Yankees as we +may, the odds were too great. The only thing we can plume ourselves upon +is that we would have fought just the same had the seventy been seven +thousand. I think the fellows did splendidly, if they were Yankees, yet +what else could we expect since their commander was a Southern man? Oh no! +we must wait till the conditions are more even before we can exult over +our victories. I reckon we'll have them all the same though." + +Murmurs of approbation followed these remarks, but he saw only the +eloquent eyes of Mary Burgoyne, and, offering her his arm, led her away. + +The spring night was as warm as a June evening at the North, and they +joined the groups that were strolling under the moonlight in the garden. + +Sidney felt the young girl's hand tremble on his arm, and he drew it +closer to his side. She soon asked falteringly, "Mr. Wallingford, do you +think--will the conditions become more even, as you suggested? Can it be +that the North will be so carried away by this abolition fanaticism as to +send armies and ships in the vain effort to subjugate us?" + +"Thank you, Miss Mary, for saying that it will be a 'vain effort.'" + +"Of course it will be, with such men as my father and"--she suddenly +hesitated. + +"And who else?" he gently asked, trying to look into her averted face. + +"Oh--well," she stammered with a forced little laugh, "thousands of brave +fellows like you. You do not answer my question. Are we to have anything +like a general war? Surely, there ought to be enough good, wise men on +both sides to settle the matter." + +"The matter might be settled easily enough," he replied lightly. "We know +our rights, and shall firmly assert them. If the Yankees yield, all well; +if not, we'll make 'em." + +"But making them may mean a great war?" + +"Oh, yes, some serious scrimmages I reckon. We're prepared however, and +will soon bring the North to its senses." + +"If anything should happen to my father!" she sighed. + +He had led her beneath the shadow of a palmetto, and now breathed into her +ear, "Mary, dear Mary, how much I'd give to hear you say in the same tone, +'If anything should happen to Sidney'!" She did not withdraw her hand from +his arm, and he again felt it tremble more than before. "Mary," he +continued earnestly, "I have asked your father if I might speak to you, +and he did not deny me the privilege. Oh, Mary, you must have seen my love +in my eyes and heard it in my tones long since. Mary," he concluded +impetuously, "let me but feel that I am defending you as well as my State, +and I can and will be a soldier in very truth." + +She suddenly turned and sobbed on his shoulder, "That's what I fear,--I +can hide my secret from you no longer--that's what I fear. Those I love +will be exposed to sudden and terrible death. I am not brave at all." + +"Shall I go home and plant cotton?" he asked, half jestingly. + +"No, no, a thousand times no," she cried passionately. "Have I not seen +the deep solemnity with which my father accepted duty so foreign to his +tastes and habits? Can you think I would wish you to shrink or fail--you +who are so strong and brave? No, no, in very truth. Self must mean only +self-sacrifice until our sacred cause is won. Yet think twice, Sidney, +before you bind yourself to me. I fear I am not so brave as other women +appear to be in these times. My heart shrinks unspeakably from war and +bloodshed. Although I shall not falter, I shall suffer agonies of dread. I +cannot let you go to danger with stern words and dry eyes. I fear you'll +find me too weak to be a soldier's wife." + +He led her into deeper and shadier seclusion as he asked, "Do you think +I'll hesitate because you have a heart in your bosom instead of a stone? +No, my darling. We must keep a brave aspect to the world, but my heart is +as tender toward you as yours toward me. What else in God's universe could +I dread more than harm to you? But there is little cause to fear. The +whole South will soon be with us, foreign nations will recognize us as an +independent people, and then we will dictate our own terms of peace; then +you shall be my bride in this, our proud city by the sea." + +He kissed away her tears, and they strolled through the shadowy walks +until each had regained the composure essential in the bright +drawing-rooms. + +A commission with the rank of captain was speedily offered young +Wallingford. He accepted it, but said he would return home and raise his +own company. This action was also applauded by his friends and the +authorities. Mary saw her father smile approvingly and proudly upon her +choice, and he became her ideal hero as well as lover. + +He fulfilled his promises, and before many weeks passed, re-entered +Charleston with a hundred brave fellows, devoted to him. The company was +incorporated into one of the many regiments forming, and Mr. Burgoyne +assured his daughter that the young captain was sure of promotion, and +would certainly make a thorough soldier. + +Even in those early and lurid days a few things were growing clear, and +among them was the fact that the North would not recognize the doctrine of +State Rights, nor peaceably accept the Act of Secession. Soldiers would be +needed,--how long no one knew, for the supreme question of the day had +passed from the hands of statesmen to those of the soldier. The lack of +mutual knowledge, the misapprehension and the gross prejudices existing +between the two sections, would have been ludicrous had they not been +fraught with such long-continued woes. Southern papers published such +stuff as this: "The Northern soldiers are men who prefer enlisting to +starvation; scurvy fellows from the back slums of cities, with whom +Falstaff would not have marched through Coventry. Let them come South, and +we will put our negroes at the dirty work of killing them. But they will +not come South. Not a wretch of them will live on this side of the border +longer than it will take us to reach the ground and drive them off." The +Northern press responded in kind: "No man of sense," it was declared, +"could for a moment doubt that this much-ado-about-nothing would end in a +month. The Northern people are simply invincible. The rebels, a mere band +of ragamuffins, will fly like chaff before the wind on our approach." Thus +the wretched farces of bluster continued on either side until in blood, +agony, and heartbreak, Americans learned to know Americans. + +President Lincoln, however, had called out seventy-five thousand troops, +and these men were not long in learning that they could not walk over the +South in three months. The South also discovered that these same men could +not be terrified into abandoning the attempt. There were thoughtful men on +both sides who early began to recognize the magnitude of the struggle upon +which they had entered. Among these was Major Burgoyne, and the +presentiment grew upon him that he would not see the end of the conflict. +When, therefore, impetuous young Wallingford urged that he might call Mary +his wife before he marched to distant battlefields, the father yielded, +feeling that it might be well for her to have another protector besides +himself. The union was solemnized in old St. Michael's Church, where +Mary's mother and grandmother had been married before her; a day or two of +quiet and happiness was vouchsafed, and then came the tidings of the first +great battle of the war. Charleston responded with acclamations of +triumph; bells sent out their merriest peals; cannon thundered from every +fort on the harbor, but Mary wept on her husband's breast. Among the +telegrams of victory had come an order for his regiment to go North +immediately. Not even a brief honeymoon was permitted to her. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +LOVE'S AGONY + + +As the exaggerated reports of a magnificent Confederate victory at Bull +Run continued to pour in, Major Burgoyne shared for a time in the general +elation, believing that independence, recognition abroad, and peace had +been virtually secured. All the rant about Northern cowardice appeared to +be confirmed, and he eagerly waited for the announcement that Washington +had been captured by Johnston's victorious army. + +Instead, came the dismal tidings from his only sister that her husband, +Captain Hunter, had been killed in the battle over which he had been +rejoicing. Then for some mysterious reason the Southern army did not +follow the Federals, who had left the field in such utter rout and panic. +It soon appeared that the contending forces were occupying much the same +positions as before. News of the second great uprising of the North +followed closely, and presaged anything but a speedy termination of the +conflict. Major Burgoyne was not a Hotspur, and he grew thoughtful and +depressed in spirit, although he sedulously concealed the fact from his +associates. The shadow of coming events began to fall upon him, and his +daughter gradually divined his lack of hopefulness. The days were already +sad and full of anxiety, for her husband was absent. He had scouted the +idea of the Yankees standing up before the impetuous onset of the Southern +soldiers, and his words had apparently proved true, yet even those +Northern cowards had killed one closely allied to her before they fled. +Remembering, therefore, her husband's headlong courage, what assurance of +his safety could she have although victory followed victory? + +Major Burgoyne urged his widowed sister to leave her plantation in the +charge of an overseer and make her home with him. "You are too near the +probable theatre of military operations to be safe," he wrote, "and my +mind cannot rest till you are with us in this city which we are rapidly +making impregnable." The result was that she eventually became a member of +his family. Her stern, sad face added to the young wife's depression, for +the stricken woman had been rendered intensely bitter by her loss. Mary +was too gentle in nature to hate readily, yet wrathful gleams would be +emitted at times even from her blue eyes, as her aunt inveighed in her +hard monotone against the "monstrous wrong of the North." They saw their +side with such downright sincerity and vividness that the offenders +appeared to be beyond the pale of humanity. Few men, even though the +frosts of many winters had cooled their blood and ripened their judgment, +could reason dispassionately in those days, much less women, whose hearts +were kept on the rack of torture by the loss of dear ones or the dread of +such loss. + +It is my purpose to dwell upon the war, its harrowing scenes and intense +animosities, only so far as may be essential to account for my characters +and to explain subsequent events. The roots of personality strike deep, +and the taproot, heredity, runs back into the being of those who lived and +suffered before we were born. + +Gentle Mary Burgoyne should have been part of a happier day and +generation. The bright hopes of a speedily conquered peace were dying +away; the foolish bluster on both sides at the beginning of the war had +ceased, and the truth so absurdly ignored at first, that Americans, North +and South, would fight with equal courage, was made clearer by every +battle. The heavy blows received by the South, however, did not change her +views as to the wisdom and righteousness of her cause, and she continued +to return blows at which the armies of the North reeled, stunned and +bleeding. Mary was not permitted to exult very long, however, for the +terrible pressure was quickly renewed with an unwavering pertinacity which +created misgivings in the stoutest hearts. The Federals had made a strong +lodgment on the coast of her own State, and were creeping nearer and +nearer, often repulsed yet still advancing as if impelled by the +remorseless principle of fate. + +At last, in the afternoon of a day early in April, events occurred never +to be forgotten by those who witnessed them. Admiral Dupont with his +armored ships attempted to reduce Fort Sumter and capture the city. +Thousands of spectators watched the awful conflict; Mary Wallingford and +her aunt, Mrs. Hunter, among them. The combined roar of the guns exceeded +all the thunder they had ever heard. About three hundred Confederate +cannon were concentrated on the turreted monitors, and some of the +commanders said that "shot struck the vessels as fast as the ticking of a +watch." It would seem that the ships which appeared so diminutive in the +distance must be annihilated, yet Mary with her powerful glass saw them +creep nearer and nearer. It was their shots, not those of her friends, +that she watched with agonized absorption, for every tremendous bolt was +directed against the fort in which was her father. + +The conflict was too unequal; the bottom of the harbor was known to be +paved with torpedoes, and in less than an hour Dupont withdrew his +squadron in order to save it from destruction. + +In strong reaction from intense excitement, Mary's knees gave way, and she +sank upon them in thankfulness to God. Her aunt supported her to her room, +gave restoratives, and the daughter in deep anxiety waited for tidings +from her father. He did not come to her; he was brought, and there settled +down upon her young life a night of grief and horror which no words can +describe. While he was sighting a gun, it had been struck by a shell from +the fleet, and when the smoke of the explosion cleared away he was seen +among the debris, a mangled and unconscious form. He was tenderly taken +up, and after the conflict ended, conveyed to his home. On the way thither +he partially revived, but reason was gone. His eyes were scorched and +blinded, his hearing destroyed by the concussion, and but one lingering +thought survived in the wreck of his mind. In a plaintive and almost +childlike tone he continually uttered the words, "I was only trying to +defend my city and my home." + +Hour after hour he repeated this sentence, deaf to his child's entreaties +for recognition and a farewell word. His voice grew more and more feeble +until he could only whisper the sad refrain; at last his lips moved but +there was no sound; then he was still. + +For a time it seemed as if Mary would soon follow him, but her aunt, her +white face tearless and stern, bade her live for her husband and her +unborn child. These sacred motives eventually enabled her to rally, but +her heart now centred its love on her husband with an intensity which made +her friends tremble for her future. His visits had been few and brief, and +she lived upon his letters. When they were delayed, her eyes had a hunted, +agonized look which even her stoical aunt could not endure. + +One day about midsummer she found the stricken wife, unconscious upon the +floor with the daily paper in her clenched hand. When at last the +physician had brought back feeble consciousness and again banished it by +the essential opiate, Mrs. Hunter read the paragraph which, like a bolt, +had struck down her niece. It was from an account of a battle in which the +Confederates had been worsted and were being driven from a certain vantage +point. "At this critical moment," ran the report, "Colonel Wallingford, +with his thinned regiment, burst through the crowd of fugitives rushing +down the road, and struck the pursuing enemy such a stinging blow as to +check its advance. If the heroic colonel and his little band could only +have been supported at this instant the position might have been regained. +As it was, they were simply overwhelmed as a slight obstacle is swept away +by a torrent. But few escaped; some were captured, while the colonel and +the majority were struck down, trampled upon and fairly obliterated as the +Northern horde of infantry and artillery swept forward all the more +impetuously. The check was of very great advantage, however, for it gave +our vastly outnumbered troops more time to rally in a stronger position." + +This brief paragraph contained the substance of all that was ever learned +of the young husband, and his mangled remains filled an unknown grave. His +wife had received the blow direct, and she never rallied. Week after week +she moaned and wept upon her bed when the physician permitted +consciousness. Even in the deep sleep produced by opiates, she would +shudder at the sound of Gilmore's guns as they thundered against Forts +Sumter and Wagner. A faithful colored woman who had been a slave in the +family from infancy watched unweariedly beside her, giving place only to +the stern-visaged aunt, whose touch and words were gentle, but who had +lost the power to disguise the bitterness of her heart. She tried to +awaken maternal instincts in the wife, but in vain, for there are wounds +of the spirit, like those of the body, which are fatal. All efforts to +induce the widow to leave the city, already within reach of the Federal +guns, were unavailing, and she was the more readily permitted to have her +own way, because, in the physician's opinion, the attempt would prove +fatal. + +Meanwhile her time was drawing near. One August night she was dozing, and +moaning in her sleep, when suddenly there was a strange, demoniac shriek +through the air followed by an explosion which in the still night was +terrifically loud. The invalid started up and looked wildly at her sable +nurse, who was trembling like a leaf. + +"O Lawd hab mercy, Missus," she exclaimed. "Dem Yankees shellin' de town." + +Mrs. Hunter was instantly at the bedside. The faithful doctor came +hurriedly of his own accord, and employed all his skill. + +A few hours later Mrs. Hunter tried to say cheerily, "Come, Mary, here is +a fine little girl for you to love and live for." + +"Aunty," said the mother calmly, "I am dying. Let me see my child and kiss +her. Then put her next my heart till it is cold." + +Mrs. Hunter lifted her startled eyes to the physician, who sadly nodded +his head in acquiescence. In a few moments more the broken heart found +healing far beyond all human passion and strife. + +With hot, yet tearless eyes, and a face that appeared to be chiselled from +marble in its whiteness and rigidity, the aunt took up the child. Her tone +revealed the indescribable intensity of her feelings as she said, "Thy +name is Mara--bitterness." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +UNCLE SHEBA'S EXPERIENCE + + +Many years have elapsed since the events narrated in the last chapter +occurred, and the thread of story is taken up again in the winter of 1886. +In a small dwelling, scarcely more than a cabin, and facing on an obscure +alley in Charleston, a rotund colored woman of uncertain age is sitting by +the fire with her husband. She is a well-known character in the city, for +she earns her bread by selling cakes, fruits, and other light articles +which may be vended in the street with chances of profit. Although "Aun' +Sheba," as she was familiarly called, had received no training for +mercantile pursuits, yet her native shrewdness had enabled her to hit upon +the principles of success, as may be discovered by the reader as the story +progresses. She had always been so emphatically the master of the house +and the head of the family, that her husband went by the name of "Uncle +Sheba." It must be admitted that the wife shared in the popular opinion of +her husband. + +When in an amiable mood, which, happily, was her usual condition of mind, +she addressed him as "Unc.;" when some of his many short-comings exhausted +her good-nature--for Aun' Sheba had more good-nature than patience--he was +severely characterized as "Mr. Buggone." Since they had been brought up in +Major Burgoyne's family, they felt entitled to his surname, and by +evolution it had become "Buggone." Uncle Sheba's heart failed him when his +wife addressed him by this title, for he knew he was beyond the dead line +of safety. They dwelt alone in the cabin, their several children, with one +exception, having been scattered they knew not where. Adjacent was another +cabin, owned by a son-in-law, named Kern Watson, who had married their +youngest daughter years before, and he was the pride of Aun' Sheba's +heart. Uncle Sheba felt that he was not appreciated, or perhaps +appreciated too well, by his son-in-law, and their intercourse was rather +formal. + +On the evening in question, supper was over, but the table had not yet +been cleared. Uncle Sheba was a good deal of an epicure, and, having left +not a scrap of what his wife had vouchsafed to him, was now enjoying his +corn-cob pipe. Aun' Sheba also liked a good square meal as much as any +one, and she had the additional satisfaction that she had earned it. At +this hour of the day she was usually very tired, and was accustomed to +take an hour's rest before putting her living-room in order for the night. +Although the twilight often fell before she returned from her mercantile +pursuits, she never intrusted Uncle Sheba with the task of getting supper, +and no housekeeper in the city kept her provisions under lock and key more +rigorously than did Aun' Sheba. After repeated trials, she had come to a +decision. "Mr. Buggone," she had said in her sternest tones, "you's wuss +dan poah white trash when you gets a chance at de cubbard. Sence I can't +trus' you nohow, I'se gwine to gib you a 'lowance. You a high ole +Crischun, askin' for you'se daily bread, an' den eatin' up 'nuff fer a +week." + +Uncle Sheba often complained that he was "skimped," but his appearance did +not indicate any meagreness in his "'lowance," and he had accepted his lot +in this instance, as in others, rather than lose the complacent +consciousness that he was provided for without much effort on his part. + +Supper was Aun' Sheba's principal meal, and she practically dined at the +fashionable hour of six. What she termed her dinner was a very uncertain +affair. Sometimes she swallowed it hastily at "Ole Tobe's rasteran," as +she termed the eating-room kept by a white-woolled negro; again she would +"happen in" on a church sister, when, in passing, the odor of some cookery +was appetizing. She always left, however, some compensation from her +basket, and so was not unwelcome. Not seldom, also, a lady or a citizen +who knew her well and the family to which she had once belonged, would +tell her to go to the kitchen. On such days Aun' Sheba's appetite flagged +at supper, a fact over which her husband secretly rejoiced, since his +allowance was almost double. + +She was now resting after the fatigues of the day, and the effort to get +and dispose of a very substantial supper, and was puffing at her pipe in a +meditative aspect. Evidently something unusual was on her mind, and she at +last ejaculated, "I know dey'se poah." + +"Who's?" languidly queried Uncle Sheba. + +"Oh, you'd neber fin' out. Dey'd starve long o' you." + +"I dunno who dey is. What 'casion I got to pervide for dey?" + +"Ha, ha, ha, Unc.! You'se a great pervider. Somehow or oder I'se got de +notion dat you'se a 'sumer." + +"I bress de Lawd my appetite am' failin' in spite ob de rheumatiz." + +"If you rheumatiz was only in you jints, dere'd be a comfort in keerin' +fer you, Unc., but it's in you min'." + +"You'll cotch it some day, an' den you know what 'tis. But who's dey dat +you got on you min'?" + +"Why, de young Missy and de ole Missus to be sho'." + +"I don't see how dey can be poah. Dey mus' hab kep' someting out all dey +had." + +"So dey did, but it wan't much, an' I jus' b'lebe it's clar dun gone!" + +"What! de plantation in Virginny all gone?" + +"How often I tole you, Unc., dat I heard ole Missus say herself dat +plantation was all trompl'd in de groun' an' what was lef' was took fer +taxes." + +"I forgits," remarked Uncle Sheba, his eyes growing heavy in his lack of +interest; "but ole Marse Wallingford mus' hab lef' de widder ob his son +someting." + +"Now look heah, Unc., you'se haf asleep. You'se 'lowance too hebby dis +ebenin'. How you forgit when I tell you ober an' ober? You doan keer. +Dat's de foot de shoe's on. You know ole Marse Wallingford's plantation +was trompl'd in de groun' too--not a stick or stone lef' by Sherman's +sogers." + +"Well, dey sole dere fine house on Meetin' Street, an' dat mus' a brought +a heap," protested Uncle Sheba, rousing himself a little. + +"Mighty little arter de mor'giges an' taxes was paid. Didn't I help dem +pack up what dey tink dey could sabe, and see poah Missy Mara wrung her +han's as she gib up dis ting an' dat ting till at las' she cry right out, +'Mought as well gib up eberyting. Why don't dey kill us too, like dey did +all our folks?' You used to be so hot fer dat ole Guv'ner Moses and say he +was like de Moses in de Bible--dat he was raised up fer ter lead de culled +people to de promise' lan'. You vote fer him, an' hurrah fer him, an' +whar's yer promise' lan'? Little you know 'bout Scripter when you say he +secon' Moses. Don' want no more sich Moseses in dis town. Dey wouldn't +lebe a brick heah ef dey could take dem off. He'n his tribe got away wid +'bout all ole Missus' and young Missus' prop'ty in my 'pinion. Anyhow I +feels it in my bones dey's poah, an' I mus' try an' fin' out. Dey's so +proud dey'd starbe fore dey'd let on." + +"'Spose you does fin' out, what kin you do? You gwine ter buy back de big +house fer dem?" + +"I'se not de one ter talk big 'bout what I'se gwine ter do," replied Aun' +Sheba, nodding her head portentously as she knocked the ashes from her +pipe, and prepared for the remaining tasks of the evening. + +Her husband's self-interest took alarm at once, and he began to hitch +uneasily on his chair. At last he broke out: "Now look heah, Aun' Sheba, +you'se got suffin on you' min' 'bout dem white folks--" + +"Dem white folks! Who you talkin' 'bout?" + +"Well, dey ain't none o' our flesh an' blood, and de Bible say shuah dat +dey dat don' pervide fer dere own flesh an' blood am wuss dan a inferdel." + +"Den I reckon you'se an inferdel, Mister Buggone," retorted Aun' Sheba, +severely. + +"I'se not," retorted her husband, assuming much solemnity, "I'se a 'umble +an' 'flicted sarbent ob de Lawd, an' it's my duty to 'monstrate wid you. I +know what's on you' min'. You'se gwine ter do fer dem white folks when you +got all you kin do now." + +"Mister Buggone, don' you call Miss Mara white folks no mo'." + +"Well, ain't she white folks? Didn't I slabe fer her granpar yeahs an' +yeahs, an' wat I got ter show fer 't?" + +"You got no stripes on you back, an' you'd had plenty ter show ef you'd +wuked fer any oder man. I 'member all about you slabin' an' how de good +major use' to let you off. You know, too, dat he war so took up wid his +book dat you could do foolishness right under his nose. An' dar was my +poah young Missy Mary, who hadn't de heart to hurt a skeeter. You s'pose I +watch ober dat broken-hearted lam' an' her little chile an' den heah 'em +called white folks, as if dey'se no 'count ter me? How ofen dat poah dyin' +lam' turn to me in de middle ob de night an' say ter me, Sheba, you will +took keer on my chile ef it libe, an' I say to her 'fore de Lawd dat I +would. An' I did too. Dat po' little moderless and faderless chile lay on +my bosom till I lubed it fer hersef, and Missy Mara neber gwine to hab +trubble when I ain't dar." + +Aun' Sheba's voice had been reaching a higher and higher key under the +influence of reminiscence and indignation. Although her husband was in +dire trepidation he felt that this point was too serious to be yielded +without a desperate effort. He had been put on short allowance once before +when his wife had gone to help take care of Mara in a severe illness, and +now he had a presentiment that Aun' Sheba would try to help support the +girl and her great-aunt as well as himself. Such an attempt threatened +privations which were harrowing even to contemplate, and in a sort of +desperation he resolved once more to assert his marital position. "Aun' +Sheba," he began with much dignity, "I'se been bery easy an' bendin' like +ter you. I'se gib you you'se own head dead agin de principles ob Scripter +which say dat de husban' am de head ob de wife--" + +"Mister Buggone," interrupted Aun' Sheba in a passion which was bursting +all restraint, "you'se wrestin' Scripter to you'se own 'struction. Ef you +am de head ob dis fam'ly, I'se gwine ter sit down an fole my hans, an you +can jes' git out an earn my libin' an' yours too. Git up dar now, an' +bring in de wood an' de kinlin' fer de mawnin', an' when mawnin' come, you +make de fiah. Arter breakfas' you start right off ter work, and I'se sit +on de do' step and talk to de neighbos. You shall hab all de headin ob de +house you wants, but you can't hab de 'sition widout de 'sponsibilities. +I'se gwine now to take a res' an' be 'sported," and the irate wife filled +her pipe, sat down and smoked furiously. + +Uncle Sheba was appalled at the result of his Scriptural argument. He +would like to be king by divine right without any responsibilities. His +one thought now was to escape until the storm blew over and his wife's +tolerant good-nature resumed its wonted sway. Shuffling cautiously around +to the door he remarked meekly as he held it ajar, "I reckon I'll drap in +at de prar-meetin', fer I tole brudder Simpkins I'd gib dem a lif' dis +ebenin'." + +His heart misgave him as he heard his wife bound up and bolt the door +after him, but he was a philosopher who knew the value of time in +remedying many of the ills of life. It must be admitted that he could not +get into the spirit of the meeting, and Brother Simpkins remarked rather +severely at its close, "Mister Buggone, I'se feared you'se zeal am +languishin'." + +Uncle Sheba's forebodings increased as he saw that his house was dark, and +he fell into something like panic when he found that the door was still +bolted. He knocked gently at first, then louder and louder, adding to the +uproar by calls and expostulations. A light appeared in the adjacent +cottage, and Kern Watson, his son-in-law, came out. "Wat de matter now, +Uncle Sheba?" he asked. "Does yer wan' ter bring de perlice? You'se been +takin' a drap too much again, I reckon." + +"No, I'se only been to prar-meetin', and Aun' Sheba jes' dun gone and bolt +me out." + +"Well, you'se been cuttin' up some shine, an' dat's a fac'. Come in an' +stop you noise. You can sleep on de lounge. We don' want to pay ten +dollahs in de mawnin to get you out ob de caboose." + +Uncle Sheba was glad to avail himself of this rather equivocal +hospitality, and eagerly sought to win Kern's sympathy by relating his +grievance. His son-in-law leaned against the chimney-side that he might, +in his half-dressed condition, enjoy the warmth of the coals covered with +ashes on the hearth, and listened. He was a tall, straight negro of +powerful build, and although his features were African, they were not +gross in character. The candle on the mantel near him brought out his +profile in fine silhouette, while his quiet steady eyes indicated a nature +not stirred by trifles. + +"You'se a 'publican, Kern, an' you knows dat we culled people got ter take +keer ob ourselves." + +"Yes, I'se a Republican," said Kern, "but wat dat got ter do wid dis +matter? Is Aun' Sheba gwine ter take any ob your money? Ef she set her +heart on helpin' her ole Missus an' young Missy an' arn de money herself, +whose business is it but hers? I'se a Republican because I belebe in +people bein' free, wedder dey is white or black, but I ain't one ob dem +kin' ob Republicans dat look on white folks as inemies. Wot we do widout +dem, an' wat dey do widout us? All talk ob one side agin de toder is fool +talk. Ef dere's any prosperity in dis lan' we got ter pull tergedder. +You'se free, Uncle Sheba, an' dere ain't a man in Charleston dat kin +hender you from goin' to work termorrow." + +"I reckon I'se try ter git a wink ob slepe, Kern," responded Uncle Sheba +plaintively. "My narbes been so shook up dat my rheumatiz will be po'ful +bad for a spell." + +Kern knew the futility of further words, and also betook himself to rest. + +With Aun' Sheba, policy had taken the place of passion. Through a +knot-hole in her cabin she had seen her husband admitted to her +son-in-law's dwelling, and so her mind was at rest. "Unc," she muttered, +"forgits his 'sper'ence at de prar-meetin's bery easy, but he mus' have a +'sper'ence to-night dat he won't forgit. I neber so riled in my bawn days. +Ef he tinks I can sit heah and see him go'mandizin' when my honey lam' +Mara hungry, he'll fin' out." + +Before the dawn on the following day, Uncle Sheba had had time for many +second thoughts, and when his wife opened the door he brought in plenty of +kindlings and wood. Aun' Sheba accepted these marks of submission in grim +silence, resolving that peace and serenity should come about gradually. +She relented so far, however, as to give him an extra slice of bacon for +breakfast, at which token of returning toleration Uncle Sheba took heart +again. Having curtly told him to clear the table, Aun' Sheba proceeded to +make from the finest of flour the delicate cakes which she always sold +fresh and almost warm from her stove, and before starting out on her +vending tour of the streets, the store-room was locked against the one +burglar she feared. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +MARA + + +On the same evening which witnessed Uncle Sheba's false step and its +temporarily disastrous results, Owen Clancy sat brooding over his fire in +his bachelor apartment. If his sitting-room did not suggest wealth, it +certainly indicated refined and intellectual tastes and a fair degree of +prosperity. A few fine pictures were on the walls, an unusually +well-selected library, although a small one, was in a bookcase, while upon +the table lay several of the best magazines and reviews of the period. +Above the mantel was suspended a cavalry sabre, its scabbard so dented as +to suggest that it had seen much and severe service. Young Clancy's eyes +were fixed upon it, and his revery was so deep that a book fell from his +hand to the floor without his notice. His thoughts, however, were dwelling +upon a young girl. Strange that a deadly weapon should be allied to her in +association. Yet so it was. He never could look upon that sabre which his +father had used effectively throughout the Civil War, without thinking of +Mara Wallingford. Neither this object nor any other was required to +produce thoughts of her, for he passed few waking hours in which she was +not present to his fancy. He loved her sincerely, and felt that she knew +it, and he also hoped that she concealed a deeper regard for him than she +would admit even to herself. Indeed he almost believed that if he could +share fully with her all the ideas and antipathies symbolized by the +battered scabbard before him, his course of love would run smoothly. It +was just at this point that the trouble between them arose. She was +looking back; he, forward. He could not enter into her sad and bitter +retrospection, feeling that this was morbid and worse than useless. +Remembering how cruelly she and her kindred had suffered, he made great +allowances for her, and had often tried to soften the bitterness in her +heart by reminding her that he, too, had lost kindred and property. By +delicate efforts he had sought to show the futility of clinging to a dead +past, and a cause lost beyond hope, but Mara would only become grave and +silent when such matters were touched upon. + +Clancy had been North repeatedly on business, and had never discovered a +particle of hostility toward him or his section in the men with whom he +dealt and associated. They invited him to their homes; he met the women of +their families, from whom he often received rather more than courtesy, for +his fine appearance and a certain courtliness of manner, inherited from +his aristocratic father, had won a thinly veiled admiration of which he +had been agreeably conscious. Since these people had no controversy with +him, how could he continue to cherish enmity and prejudice against them? +His warm Southern nature revolted at receiving hearty good-will and not +returning it in kind. There was nothing of a "we-forgive-you" in the +bearing of his Northern acquaintances, nor was there any effusiveness in +cordiality with an evident design of reassuring him. He was made to feel +that he was guilty of an anachronism in brooding over the war, that it had +been forgotten except as history, and that the present with its +opportunities, and the future with its promise, were the themes of +thought. The elements of life, energy, hopefulness with which he came in +contact had appealed to him powerfully, for they were in harmony with his +youth, ambition, yes, and his patriotism. "The South can never grow rich +and strong by sulking," he had often assured himself, "and since the old +dream is impossible, and we are to be one people, why shouldn't we accept +the fact and unite in mutual helpfulness?" + +Reason, ambition, and policy prompted him to the divergence of view and +action which was alienating Mara. "Imitation of her example and spirit +would be political and financial suicide on our part," he broke out. "I +love her; and if she loved in the same degree, I would be more to her than +bitter memories. She would help me achieve a happy future for us both. As +it is, I am so pulled in different ways that I'm half insane," and with +contracted brow he sprang up and paced the floor. + +But he could not hold to this mood long, and soon his face softened into +an expression of anxiety and commiseration. Resuming his chair his +thoughts ran on, "She isn't happy either. For some cause I reckon she +suffers more than I do. She looked pale to-day when I met her, and her +face was full of anxiety until she saw me, and then it masked all feeling. +She has worn that same cloak now for three winters. Great Heaven! if she +should be in want, and I not know it! Yet what could I do if she were? Why +will she be so proud and obdurate? I believe that gaunt, white-haired aunt +has more to do with her course than her own heart. Well, I can't sit here +and think about it any longer. If I see her something may become clearer, +and I must see her before I go North again." + +Mara Wallingford's troubles and anxieties had indeed been culminating of +late. Almost her sole inheritance had been sadness, trouble and enmity. +Not only had her unhappy mother's history been kept fresh in her memory by +her great-aunt, Mrs. Hunter, but the very blood that coursed in her veins +and the soul that looked out from her dark, melancholy eyes had received +from that mother characteristics which it is of the province of this story +to reveal. To poor Mary Wallingford, the death of her father and of her +husband had been the unspeakable tragedy and wrong which had destroyed her +life; and the long agony of the mother had deprived her offspring of the +natural and joyous impulses of childhood and youth. If Mara had been left +to the care of a judicious guardian--one who had sought by all wholesome +means to counteract inherited tendencies, a most cheerful and hopeful life +would have been developed, but in this respect the girl had been most +unfortunate. The mind grows by what it feeds upon, and Mrs. Hunter's +spirit had become so imbittered by dwelling upon her woes and losses that +she was incapable of thinking or speaking of much else. She had never been +a woman of warm, quick sympathies. She had seen little of the world, and, +in a measure, was incapable of seeing it, whatever advantages she might +have had. This would have been true of her, no matter where her lot had +been cast, for she was a born conservative. What she had been brought up +to believe would always be true; what she had been made familiar with by +early custom would always be right, and anything different would be viewed +with disapproval or intoleration. Too little allowance is often made for +characters of this kind. We may regret rigidity and narrowness all we +please, but there should be some respect for downright sincerity and the +inability to see both sides of a question. + +It often happens that if natures are narrow they are correspondingly +intense; and this was true of Mrs. Hunter. She idolized her husband dead, +more perhaps than if he had been living. Her brother and nephew were +household martyrs, and little Mara had been taught to revere their +memories as a devout Catholic pays homage to a patron saint. Between the +widow and all that savored of the North, the author of her woes, there was +a great gulf, and the changes wrought by the passing years had made no +impression, for she would not change. She simply shut her eyes and closed +her ears to whatever was not in accord with her own implacable spirit. She +grew cold toward those who yielded to the kindly influences of peace and +the healing balm of time; she had bitter scorn for such as were led by +their interests to fraternize with the North and Northern people. In her +indiscrimination and prejudice they were all typified by the unscrupulous +adventurers who had made a farce of government and legally robbed the +South when prostrate and bleeding after the War. She and her niece had +been taxed out of their home to sustain a rule they loathed. Not a few +women in Boston, in like circumstances, would be equally bitter and +equally incapable of taking the broad views of an historian. + +The influence of such a concentrated mind warped almost to the point of +monomania, upon a child like Mara, predisposed from birth to share in a +similar spirit, can be readily estimated. Peace and time, moreover, had +not brought the ameliorating tendencies of prosperity, but rather a +continuous and hopeless pressure of poverty. + +Mrs. Hunter had been incapable of doing more than save what she could out +of the wreck of their fortunes. There were no near relations, and those +remaining, with most of their friends and acquaintances who had not been +alienated, were struggling like themselves in straitened circumstances. +Yet out of this poverty, many open, generous hands would have been +stretched to the widow and her ward had they permitted their want to be +known. But they felt that they would rather starve than do this, for they +belonged to that class which suffers in proud silence. Although they had +practiced an economy that was so severe as to be detrimental to both +health and character, their principal had melted away, and their jewelry +and plate, with the exception of heirlooms that could not be sold without +a sense of sacrilege, had been quietly disposed of. The end of their +resources was near, and they knew not what to do. Mara had tried to eke +out their means by fancy-work, but she had no great aptitude for such +tasks, and her education was too defective and old-fashioned for the +equipment of a modern teacher. She was well read, especially in the +classics, yet during the troubled years of her brief life she had not been +given the opportunity to acquire the solid, practical knowledge which +would enable her to instruct others. The exclusiveness and seclusion, so +congenial to her aunt, had been against her, and now reticence and a +disposition to shrink from the world had become a characteristic of her +own. + +She felt, however, that her heart, if not her will, was weak toward Owen +Clancy. In him had once centred the hope of her life, and from him she now +feared a wound that could never heal. + +She underrated his affection as he did hers. He felt that she should throw +off the incubus of the past for his sake; she believed that any depth of +love on his part should render impossible all intercourse with the North +beyond what was strictly necessary for the transaction of business. In +order to soften her prejudices, he had told her of his social experiences +in New York, and, as a result, had seen her face hardened against him.... +She had no words of bitter scorn such as her aunt had indulged in when +learning of the fact. She had only thought in sorrow that since he was +"capable of accepting hospitality from the people who had murdered her +kindred and blighted the South, there was an impassable gulf between +them." + +Now, however, the imperative questions of bread and shelter were +uppermost. She believed that Clancy could and would solve these questions +at once if permitted, and it was characteristic of her pride and what she +regarded as her loyalty, that she never once allowed herself to think of +this alternative. Yet what could she and her aunt do? They were in the +pathetic position of gentlewomen compelled to face the world with +unskilled hands. This is bad enough at best, but far worse when hands are +half paralyzed by pride and timidity as well as ignorance. The desperate +truth, however, stared them in the face. Do something they must, and that +speedily. + +They were contemplating the future in a hopeless sort of dread and +perplexity on the evening when Aunt Sheba and young Clancy's thoughts were +drawn toward them in such deep solicitude. This fact involves no mystery. +The warm-hearted colored woman had seen and heard little things which +suggested the truth, and the sympathetic lover had seen the face of the +young girl when she was off her guard. Its expression had haunted him, and +impelled him to see her at once, although she had chilled his hopes of +late. + +When compelled to leave the old home, Mrs. Hunter had taken the second +floor of a small brick house located on a side street. In spite of herself +Mara's heart fluttered wildly for a moment when the woman who occupied the +first story brought up Clancy's card. + +"You can't see him to-night," said her aunt, frowning. + +Mara hesitated a moment, and then said firmly, "Yes, I will see him. +Please ask him to come up." When they were alone, she added in a low +voice, "I shall see him once more, probably for the last time socially. We +cannot know what changes are in store for us." + +"Well, I won't see him," said Mrs. Hunter, frigidly; and she left the +room. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +PAST AND FUTURE + + +Under the impulses of his solicitude and affection Clancy entered quickly, +and took Mara's hand in such a strong, warm grasp that the color would +come into her pale face. In spite of her peculiarities and seeming +coldness, she was a girl who could easily awaken a passionate love in a +warm, generous-hearted man like the one who looked into her eyes with +something like entreaty in his own. She had a beauty peculiar to herself, +and now a strange loveliness which touched his very soul. The quick flush +upon her cheeks inspired hope, and a deep emotion, which she could not +wholly suppress, found momentary expression. Even in that brief instant +she was transfigured, for the woman within her was revealed. As if +conscious of a weakness which seemed to her almost criminal, her face +became rigid, and she said formally, "Please be seated, Mr. Clancy." + +"You must not speak to me in that way and in that tone," he began +impetuously, and then paused, for he was chilled by her cold, questioning +gaze. Her will was so strong, and found such powerful expression in her +dark, sad eyes, that for a moment he was dumb and embarrassed. Then his +own high spirit rallied, and a purpose grew strong that she should hear +him, and hear the truth also. His gray eyes, that had wavered for a +moment, grew steady in their encounter with hers. + +Seating himself on the opposite side of the table, he said quietly, "You +think I have no right to speak to you in such a way." + +"I fear we think differently on many subjects, Mr. Clancy." + +"Admitting that, would you like a man to be a weak echo of yourself?" + +"A man should not be weak in any respect. I do not think it necessary, +however, to raise the question of my likes or dislikes." + +"I must differ with you, Mara," he replied gravely. + +"I agree with you now, fully, Mr. Clancy. We differ. Had we not better +change the subject?" + +"No, not unless you would be unfair. I am at a disadvantage. I am in your +home. You are a lady, and therefore can compel me to leave unsaid what I +am bent on saying. We have been friends, have we not?" + +She bowed her acquiescence. + +"Well," he continued a little bitterly, "I have one Southern trait +left--frankness. You know I would speak in a different character if +permitted, if I received one particle of encouragement." Then, with a +sudden flush, he said firmly, "I will speak as I feel. I only pay homage +in telling you what you must already know. I love you, and would make you +my wife." + +Her face became very pale as she averted it, and replied briefly, "You are +mistaken, Mr. Clancy." + +"Mara, I am not mistaken. Will you be fair enough to listen to me? We +agree that we differ. Can we not also agree that we differ +conscientiously? You cannot think me false, even though you say I am +mistaken. Hitherto you have opposed to me a dead wall of silence. Though +you will not listen to me as a lover, you might both listen and speak to +me as a friend. That word would be hollow indeed if estrangment could +result from honest differences of opinion." + +"It is far more than a difference of opinion." + +"Let the difference be what it may, Mara," he answered gently, resolving +not to be baffled, "if you are so sure you are right, you should at least +be willing to accord to one whom you once regarded as a friend the +privilege of pleading his cause. Truth and right do not intrench +themselves in repelling silence. That is the refuge of prejudice. If you +will hear my side of the question, I will listen with the deepest interest +to yours, and believe me you have a powerful ally in my heart." + +"Your head has gained such ascendency over your heart, Mr. Clancy, that +you cannot understand me. In some women the strongest reasons for or +against a thing proceed from the latter organ." + +"Is yours, then, so cold toward me?" he asked sadly. + +"It is not cold toward the memory of my murdered parents," she replied +with an ominous flash in her eyes. + +Clancy looked at her in momentary surprise, then said firmly, "My father +eventually died from injuries received in the war, but he was not +murdered. He was wounded in fair battle in which he struck as well as +received blows." + +Again there was a quick flush upon her pale face, but now it was one of +indignation as she said bitterly, "Fair battle! So you call it fair battle +when men are overpowered in defending their homes. If armed robbers broke +into your house, and you gave blows as well as received them, would you +not be murdered if it so happened that you were killed? Why should we +speak of these subjects further?" And there was a trace of scorn in her +tone. + +His pride was touched, and he was all the more determined that he would be +heard. "I can give you good reason why we should speak further," he +answered resolutely yet quietly. "However strong your feeling may be, I +have too much respect for your intelligence and too much confidence in +your courage to believe that you will weakly shrink from hearing one who +is as conscientious as yourself. I cannot accept your illustration, and do +not think the instance you give is parallel. In the differences between +the North and the South, an appeal was made to the sword. If I had been +old enough I would have fought at my father's side. But the question is +now settled. No matter how we feel about it, the North and the South must +live together, and it is not my nature to live in hate. Suppose I +could--suppose it were possible for all Southern men to feel as you do and +act in accordance with such bitter enmity, what would be the result? It +would be suicide. Our land would become a desert. Capital and commerce +would leave our cities because there would be no security among a people +implacably hostile. Such a course would be more destructive than invading +armies. My business, the business of the city, is largely with the North. +If native Southern men tried to transact it in a cold, relentless spirit, +we should lose the chance to live, much less to do anything for our land. +We have suffered too much from this course already, and have allowed +strangers, who care nothing for us, to take much that might have been +ours. I love the South too well to advocate a course which would prove so +fatal. What is more, I cannot think it would be right. The North of your +imagination does not exist. I cannot hate people who have no hate for me, +but on the contrary abound in honest, kindly feeling." + +She had listened quietly with her face turned from him, and now met his +eyes with an inscrutable expression in hers. "Have I not listened?" she +asked. + +"But you have not answered," he urged, "you have not even tried to show me +wherein I am wrong." + +The eyes whose sombre blackness had been like a veil now flamed with the +anger she had long repressed. "How little you understand me," she said +passionately, "when you think I can argue questions like these. You are +virtually asking what to me is sacrilege. I have listened to you +patiently, at what cost to my feelings you are incapable of knowing. Do +you think that I can forget that my grandfather was mangled to death, and +that his last words were, 'I was only trying to defend my home'? Do you +think I can forget that my father was trampled into the very earth by your +Northern friends with whom you must fraternize as well as trade? I will +not speak of my martyred mother. Her name and agony are too sacred to be +named in a political argument," and she uttered these last words with +intense bitterness. Then rising to end the interview, she continued coldly +in biting sarcasm, "Mr. Clancy, I have no relations with the North. I do +not deal in cotton, and none of its fibre has found its way into my +nature." + +At these words he flushed hotly, sprang up, but by an evident and powerful +effort controlled himself, and sat down again. + +"How could you even imagine," she added, "that words, arguments, political +and financial considerations would tempt me to be disloyal to the memory +of my dead kindred?" + +"You _are_ disloyal to them," he said firmly. + +"What!" + +"Mara, I am indeed proving myself a friend because I am such and more, and +because you so greatly need a friend. Your kindred had hearts in their +breasts. Would they doom you to the life upon which you are entering? Can +you not see that you are passing deeper and deeper into the shadow of the +past? What good can it do them? Could they speak would they say, 'We wish +our sorrows to blight your life'? You are not happy, you cannot be happy. +It is contrary to the law of God, it is impossible to human nature, that +happiness and bitter, unrelenting enmity should exist in the same heart. +You are not only unhappy, but you are in deep trouble of some kind. I saw +that from your face to-day before you saw me and could mask from a friend +its expression of deep anxiety. You shall hear the truth from me which I +fear you hear from no other, and your harsh words shall not deter me from +my resolute purpose to be kind, to rescue you virtually from a condition +of mind that is so morbid, so unhealthful, that it will blight your life. +I cannot so wrong your father and mother as even to imagine that it could +be their wish to see your beautiful young life grow more and more +shadowed, to see you struggling under burdens which strong, loving hands +would lift from you. Can you believe that they, happy in heaven, can wish +you no happiness on earth?" + +There was a grave, convincing earnestness in his tone, and a truth in his +words hard to resist. What she considered loyalty to her kindred had been +like her religion, and he had charged her with disloyalty, yes, and while +he spoke the thought would assert itself that her course might be a +wretched mistake. Although intrenched in prejudice, and fortified against +his words by the thought and feeling of her life, she had been made to +doubt her position and feel that she might be a self-elected martyr. The +assertion that she was doing what would be contrary to the wishes of her +dead kindred pierced the very citadel of her opposition, and tended to +remove the one belief which had been the sustaining rock beneath her feet. +She knew she had been severe with him, and she was touched by his +forbearance, his resolute purpose to befriend her. She remembered her +poverty, the almost desperate extremity in which she was, and her heart +upbraided her for refusing the hand held out so loyally and persistently +to her help. She became confused, torn, and overwhelmed by conflicting +emotions; her lip quivered, and, bowing her head in her hands, she sobbed, +"You are breaking my heart." + +In an instant he was on one knee at her side. "Mara," he began gently, "if +I wound it is only that I may heal. Truly no girl in this city needs a +friend as you do. For some reason I feel this to be true in my very soul. +Who in God's universe would forbid you a loyal friend?" and he tried to +take her hand. + +"I forbid you to be her friend," said a stern voice. + +Springing up, Clancy encountered the gaze of a gaunt, white-haired woman, +with implacable enmity stamped upon her thin visage. The young man's eyes +darkened as they steadily met those of Mrs. Hunter, and it was evident +that the forbearance he had manifested toward the girl he loved would not +be extended to her guardian. Still he controlled himself, and waited till +she should speak again. + +"Mr. Clancy," she resumed after a moment, "Miss Wallingford is my ward; I +received her from her dying mother, and so have rights which you must +respect. I forbid you seeing her or speaking to her again." + +"Mrs. Hunter," he replied, "permit me to tell you with the utmost courtesy +that I shall not obey you. Only Mara herself can forbid me from seeing her +or speaking to her." + +"What right have you, sir--" + +"The best of rights, Mrs. Hunter, I love the girl; you do not. As +remorselessly as a graven image you would sacrifice her on the altar of +your hate." + +"Mr. Clancy, you must not speak to my aunt in that way. She has been +devoted to me from my infancy." + +"On the contrary, she has devoted you from infancy to sadness, gloom, and +bitter memories. She is developing within you the very qualities most +foreign to a woman's heart. Instead of teaching you to enshrine the memory +of your kindred in tender, loving remembrance, she is forging that memory +into a chain to restrain you from all that is natural to your years. She +is teaching you to wreck your life in fruitless opposition to the healing +influences that have followed peace. Madam, answer me--the question is +plain and fair--what can you hope to accomplish by your enmity to me and +to the principles of hope and progress which, in this instance, I +represent, but the blighting of this girl whom I love?" + +"You are insolent, sir," cried Mrs. Hunter, trembling with rage. + +"No, madam, I am honest, and be the result to me what it may, you shall +both hear the truth to-night." + +"This is our home," was the harsh response, "and you are not a gentleman +if you do not leave it instantly." + +"I shall certainly do so. Mara, am I to see you and speak to you no more?" + +She had sunk into a chair, and again buried her face in her hands. + +He waited a moment, but she gave no sign. Then with his eyes fixed on her +he sadly and slowly left the apartment. + +At last she sprang up with the faint cry, "Owen," but her aunt stood +between her and the door, and he was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +"PAHNASHIP" + + +When Mara realized that her lover had indeed gone, that in fact he had +been driven forth, and that she had said not one word to pave the way for +a future meeting, a sense of desolation she had never known before +overwhelmed her. Hitherto she had been sustained by an unfaltering belief +that no other course than the one which her aunt had inculcated was +possible; that, cost what it might, and end as it might, it was her +heritage. All now was confused and in doubt. She had heard her lofty, +self-sacrificing purpose virtually characterized as vain and wrong. She +had idolized the memory of her father and mother, and yet had been told +that her course was the very one of which they would not approve. The +worst of it all was that it now seemed true, for she could not believe +that they would wish her to be so utterly unhappy. In spite of her +unworldliness and lack of practical training, the strong common-sense of +Clancy's question would recur, "What good will it do?" She was not +sacrificing her heart to sustain or further any cause, and her heart now +cried out against the wrong it was receiving. These miserable thoughts +rushed through her mind and pressed so heavily upon all hope that she +leaned her arms upon the table, and, burying her face, sobbed aloud. + +"Mara," said her aunt, severely, "I did not think you could be so weak." + +Until the storm of passionate grief passed, the young girl gave no heed to +Mrs. Hunter's reproaches or expostulations. At last she became quiet, as +much from exhaustion as from self-control, and said wearily, "You need +worry no further about Mr. Clancy. He will not come again. If he has a +spark of pride or manhood left, he will never look at me again," and a +quick, heart-broken sob would rise at the thought. + +"I should hope you would not look at him again after his insolence to me." + +Mara did not reply. For the first time her confidence in her aunt had been +shaken, for she could not but feel that Mrs. Hunter, in her judgment of +Clancy, saw but one side of the question. She did not approve of his stern +arraignment of her aunt, but she at least remembered his great +provocation, and that he had been impelled to his harsh words by loyalty +to her. + +At last she said, "Aunty, I'm too worn out to think or speak any more +tonight. There is a limit to endurance, and I've reached it." + +"That's just where the trouble is," Mrs. Hunter tried to say reassuringly. +"In the morning you will be your own true, brave self again." + +"What's the use of being brave; what can I be brave for?" thought Mara in +the solitude of her room. + +Although her sleep was brief and troubled, she had time to grow calm and +collect her thoughts. While she would not admit it to herself, Clancy's +repeated assertions of his love had a subtle and sustaining power. She +could see no light in the future, but her woman's heart would revert to +this truth as to a secret treasure. + +In the morning after sitting for a time almost in silence over their +meagre breakfast, her aunt began: "Mara, I wish you to realize the truth +in regard to Mr. Clancy. It is one of those things which must be nipped in +the bud. There is only one ending to his path, and that is full acceptance +of Northern rule and Northern people. What is more, after his words to me, +I will never abide under the same roof with him again." + +"Aunty," said Mara sadly, "we have much else to think about besides Mr. +Clancy. How are we going to keep a roof over our own heads?" + +Compelled to face their dire need, Mrs. Hunter broke out into bitter +invective against those whom she regarded as the cause of their poverty. + +"Aunty," protested Mara, almost irritably, for her nerves were sadly worn, +"what good can such words do? We must live, I suppose, and you must advise +me." + +"Mara, I am almost tempted to believe that you regret--" + +"Aunty, you must fix your mind on the only question to be considered. What +are we to do? You know our money is almost gone." + +Mrs. Hunter's only response was to stare blankly at her niece. She could +economize and be content with very little as long as her habitual trains +of thought were not interrupted and she could maintain her proud +seclusion. Accustomed to remote plantation life, she knew little of the +ways of the modern world, and much less of the methods by which a woman +could obtain a livelihood from it. To the very degree that she had lived +in the memories and traditions of the past, she had unfitted herself to +understand the conditions of present life or to cope with its +requirements. Now she was practically helpless. "We can't go and reveal +our situation to our friends," she began hesitatingly. + +"Certainly not," said Mara, "for most of them have all they can do to +sustain themselves, and I would rather starve than live on the charity of +those on whom we have no claim." + +"We might take less expensive rooms." + +"What good would that do, Aunty? If we can't earn anything, five dollars +will be as hard to raise as ten." + +"Oh, to think that people of the very best blood in the State, who once +had scores of slaves to work for them, should be so wronged, robbed and +reduced!" + +Mara heaved a long, weary sigh, and Clancy's words would repeat themselves +again and again. She saw how utterly incapable her aunt was to render any +assistance in their desperate straits. Even the stress of their present +emergency could not prevent her mind from vainly reverting to a past that +was gone forever. Again her confidence was more severely shaken as she was +compelled to doubt the wisdom of their habits of seclusion and reticence, +of living on from year to year engrossed by memories, instead of adapting +themselves to a new order of things which they were powerless to prevent. +"Truly," she thought, "my father and mother never could have wished me to +be in this situation out of love for them. It is true I could never go to +the length that he does without great hypocrisy, and I do not see the need +of it. I can never forget the immense wrong done to me and mine, but Aunty +should have taught me something more than indignation and hostility, +however just the causes for them may be." + +While such was the tenor of her thoughts, she only said a little bitterly: +"Oh, that I knew how to do something! My old nurse, Aun' Sheba, is better +off than we are." + +"She belongs to us yet," said Mrs. Hunter, almost fiercely. + +"You could never make her or any one else think so," was the weary reply. +"Well, now that I have thought of her, I believe I could advise with her +better than any one else." + +"Advise with a slave? Oh, Mara!--" + +"Whom shall I advise with then?" And there was a sharp ring in the girl's +tone. + +"Oh, any one, so that it be not Mr. Clancy," replied her aunt irritably. +"Were it not that you so needed a protector, I could wish that I were +dead." + +"Aunt," said Mara, gently yet firmly, "we must give up this hopeless, +bitter kind of talk. I, at least, must do something to earn honest bread, +and I am too depressed and sad at heart to carry any useless burdens. Mr. +Clancy said much that was wrong last night, and there are matters about +which he and I can never agree, but surely he was right in saying that my +father and mother would not wish to see me crushed body and soul. If I am +to live, I must find a way to live and yet keep my self-respect. I suppose +the natural way would be to go to those who knew my father and +grandfather; but they would ask me what I could do. What could I tell +them? It would seem almost like asking charity." + +"Of course it would," assented her aunt. + +Then silence fell between them. + +Before Mara could finish her morning duties and prepare for the street, a +heavy step was heard on the stairs, then a knock at the door. Opening it, +the young girl saw the very object of her thoughts, for Aun' Sheba's ample +form and her great basket filled all the space. + +"Oh, Aun' Sheba," cried the girl, a gleam of hope lighting up her eyes, +"I'm so glad to see you. I was just starting for your cabin." + +"Bress your heart, honey, Aun' Sheba'll allus be proud to hab you come. My +spec's, Missus," and she dropped her basket and a courtesy before Mrs. +Hunter. + +"Aun' Sheba," said Mara, giving the kindly vender a chair, "you are so +much better off than we are. I was saying just that to aunty this +morning." + +"Why, honey, I'se only a po' culled body, and you'se a beauty like you +moder, bress her po' deah heart." + +"Yes, Aun' Sheba, you were a blessing to her," said Mara with moist eyes. +"How you watched over her and helped to take care of me! Perhaps you can +help take care of me again. For some reason, I can speak to you and tell +you our troubles easier than to any one else in the world." + +"Dat's right, honey lam', dat's right. Who else you tell your troubles to +but Aun' Sheba? Didn't I comfort you on dis bery bres time an' time agin +when you was a little mite? Now you'se bigger and hab bigger troubles, +I'se bigger too," and Aunt Sheba shook with laughter like a great form of +jelly as she wiped her eyes with sympathy. + +"Aun' Sheba," said Mara in a voice full of unconscious pathos, "I don't +know what to do, yet I must do something. It seems to me that I could be +almost happy if I were as sure of earning my bread as you are." + +"Now, doggone dat ar lazy husban' o' mine. But he got his 'serts an'll git +mo' ob dem eff he ain't keerful. I jes' felt it in my bones las' night how +'twas wid you, an I 'lowed how I'd see you dis mawnin', an' den he began +to go on as ef you was nothin' but white folks stid ob my deah honey lam' +dat I nussed till you was like my own chile. But he won' do so no mo'." + +"Oh, Aun' Sheba, believe me, I don't wish to interfere with any of your +duties to him," began Mara earnestly. + +"Duty to him," exclaimed the colored woman with a snort of indignation. +"He mout tink a little 'bout his duty to me. Doan you trubble 'bout him, +for he's boun' to git mo' dan his shar anyhow. Now I know de good Lawd put +it in my min' to come heah dis mawnin' case you was on my min' las' night. +You needn't tink you kin go hungry while Aun' Sheba hab a crus'." + +"I know what a big heart you've got, but that won't do, Aun' Sheba. Can +you think I would live idly on your hard-earned money?" + +"Well, 'tis my money, an' I make mo dan you tink, an' a heap mo' dan I let +Unc. know about. He'd be fer settin' up his kerrige ef he knew," and she +again laughed in hearty self-complacency. "Why, honey, I can 'sport you +an' Missus widout pinchin', an' who gwine to know 'bout it?" + +"I'd know about it," said Mara, rising and putting her hand caressingly on +the woman's shoulder, "yet I feel your kindness in the very depths of my +heart. Come, I have a thought. Let me see what's in your basket." + +"Ony cakes dis mawnin', honey. Help you's sef." + +"Oh, how delicious they are," said Mara eating one, and thoughtfully +regarding her sable friend. "You beat me making cakes, Aun' Sheba, and I +thought I was good at it." + +"So you am, Missy, so you am, fer I taught you mysef." + +"Aun' Sheba, suppose we go into partnership." + +"Pahnaship!" ejaculated Aun' Sheba in bewilderment. + +"Oh, Mara!" Mrs. Hunter expostulated indignantly. + +"Well, I suppose it would be a very one-sided affair," admitted the girl, +blushing in a sort of honest shame. "You are doing well without any help +from me, and don't need any. I'm very much like a man who wants to share +in a good business which has already been built up, but I don't know how +to do anything else, and could at least learn better every day, +and--and--I thought--I must do something--I thought, perhaps, if I made +the cakes and some other things, and you sold them, Aun' Sheba, you +wouldn't have to work so hard, and--well, there might be enough profit for +us both." + +"Now de Lawd bress you heart, honey, dar ain't no need ob you blisterin' +you'se pretty face ober a fiah, bakin' cakes an' sich. I kin--" + +"No, no, Aun' Sheba, you can't, for I won't let you." + +"Mara," protested Mrs. Hunter, severely, "do you realize what you are +saying? Suppose it became known that you were in--in--" but the lady could +not bring herself to complete the humiliating sentence. + +"Yis, honey, Missus am right. De idee! Sech quality as you in pahnaship +wid ole Aun' Sheba!" and she laughed at the preposterous relationship. + +"Perhaps it needn't be known," said Mara, daunted for a moment. Then the +necessities in the case drove her forward, and, remembering that her aunt +was unable to suggest or even contemplate anything practicable, she said +resolutely, "Let it be known. Others of our social rank are supporting +themselves, and I'm too proud to be ashamed to do it myself even in this +humble way. What troubles me most is that I'm making such a one-sided +offer to Aun' Sheba. She don't need my help at all, and I need hers so +much." + +"Now see heah, honey, is your heart set on dis ting?" + +"Yes, it is," replied Mara, earnestly. "My heart was like lead till you +came, and it would be almost as light as one of these cakes if I knew I +could surely earn my living. Oh, Aun' Sheba, you've had troubles, and you +know what sore troubles my poor mother had, but neither you nor she ever +knew the fear, the sickening dread which comes over one when you don't +know where your bread is to come from or how you are to keep a roof over +your head. Aunty, do listen to reason. Making cake and other things for +Aun' Sheba to sell would not be half so humiliating as going to people of +my own station and revealing my ignorance, or trying to do what I don't +know how to do, knowing all the time that I was only tolerated. My plan +leaves me in seclusion, and if any one thinks less of me they can leave me +alone. I don't want to make my way among strangers; I don't feel that I +can. This plan enables us to stay together, Aunty, and you must know now +that we can't drift any longer." + +While Mara was speaking Aun' Sheba's thrifty thoughts had been busy. Her +native shrewdness gave her a keen insight into Mrs. Hunter's character, +and she knew that the widow's mind was so warped that she was practically +as helpless as a child. While, in her generous love for Mara and from a +certain loyalty to her old master's family, she was willing temporarily to +assume what would be a very heavy burden, she was inwardly glad, as she +grew accustomed to the idea, that Mara was willing to do her share. Indeed +it would be a great relief if her basket could be filled for her, and she +said, heartily, "Takes some time, honey, you know, fer an idee to git into +my tick head, but when it gits dar it stick. Now you'se sensible, an' +Missus'll see it soon. You'se on de right track. Ob cose, I'd be proud ob +pahnaship, an' it'll be a great eas'n up to me. Makes a mighty long day, +Missy, to git up in de mawnin' an' do my bakin' an' den tromp, tromp, +tromp. I could put in an hour or two extra sleep, an' dat counts in a +woman ob my age an' heft. But, law sakes! look at dat clock dar. I mus' be +gitten along. Set you deah little heart at res', honey. I'se comin' back +dis ebenin', an' we'se start in kin' ob easy like so you hab a chance to +larn and not get 'scouraged." + +"I can't approve of this plan at all," said Mrs. Hunter, loftily, "I wash +my hands of it." + +"Now, now, Missus, you do jes' dat--wash you hans ob it, but don' you +'fere wid Missy, kase it'll set her heart at res' and keep a home fer you +bof. We's gwine to make a pile, honey, an' den de roses come back in you +cheeks," and nodding encouragingly, she departed, leaving more hope and +cheer behind her than Mara had known for many a month. + +To escape the complaining of her aunt, Mara shut herself in her room and +thought long and deeply. The conclusion was, "The gulf between us has +grown wider and deeper. When Mr. Clancy learns how I have sought +independence without his aid--" but she only finished the sentence by a +sad, bitter smile. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +MARA'S PURPOSE + + +"Neber had sech luck in all my bawn days," soliloquized Aun' Sheba as she +saw the bottom of her basket early in the day. "All my cus'mers kin' o' +smilin' like de sunshine. Only Marse Clancy grumpy. He go by me like a +brack cloud. I'se got a big grudge against dat ar young man. He use to be +bery sweet on Missy. He mus' be taken wid some Norvern gal, and dat's +'nuff fer me. Ef he lebe my honey lam' now she so po', dar's a bad streak +in his blood and he don' 'long to us any mo'. I wouldn't be s'prised ef +dey hadn't had a squar meal fer a fortnight. I can make blebe dat I wants +to take my dinner 'long o' dem to sabe time, an' den dey'll hab a dinner +wat'll make Missy real peart 'fore she gin to work," and full of her +kindly intentions she bought a juicy steak, some vegetables, a quantity of +the finest flour, sugar, coffee, and some spices. + +Mara had slipped out and invested the greater part of her diminished hoard +in the materials essential to her new undertaking. Not the least among +them, as she regarded it, was an account book. When, therefore, Aun' Sheba +bustled in between one and two o'clock, she found some bulky bundles on +the kitchen table over which Mrs. Hunter had already groaned aloud. + +"Law sakes, honey, what all dese?" the colored aunty asked. + +"They are my start in trade," replied Mara, smiling. + +"Den you's gwine to hab a mighty big start, fer I got lots o' tings in dis +basket." + +"Why, Aun' Sheba! Did you think I was going to let you furnish the +materials?" + +"Ef you furnish de makin' up ob de 'terials what mo' you oughter do, I'd +like ter know?" + +"Aun' Sheba, I could cheat you out af your two black eyes." + +"Dey see mo' dan you tink, Missy," she replied, nodding sagaciously. + +"Yes, I reckon they do, but my eyes must look after your interests as well +as my own. I am going to be an honest partner. Do you see this book?" + +"What dat ar got to do wid de pahnaship?" + +"You will see. It will prevent you from ever losing a penny that belongs +to you." + +"Penny, indeed! As if I'se gwine to stand on a penny!" + +"Well, I am. Little as I know about business, I am sure it will be more +satisfactory if careful accounts are kept, and you must promise to tell me +the whole truth about things. That's the way partners do, you know, and +everything is put down in black and white." + +"Oh, go 'long wid you, honey, an' hab you own way. All in my pahnaship go +down in black, I s'pose, an' you'se in white. How funny it all am!" and +the old woman sat back in her chair and laughed in her joyous content. + +"It is all a very humiliating farce to me," said Mrs. Hunter, looking +severely at the former property. + +"Yas'm," said Aun' Sheba, suddenly becoming stolid as a graven image. + +"Aunty," said Mara firmly but gently, "the time has come when I must act, +for your sake as well as my own. Nothing will prevent me from carrying out +this plan, except its failure to provide for Aun' Sheba as well as for +ourselves." + +"Well, I wash my hands of it, and, if your course becomes generally known, +I shall have it understood that you acted without my approval." And she +rose and left the kitchen with great dignity. + +When the door closed upon her, Aun' Sheba again shook in vast and silent +mirth. + +"Doan you trubble long o' Missus, honey," she said, nodding encouragingly +at Mara. "She jes' like one dat lib in de dark an' can't see notin' +right." Then in sudden revulsion of feeling she added, "You po' honey +lam', doan you see you'se got to take keer ob her jes' as ef she was a +chile?" + +"Yes," said Mara, sadly, "I've been compelled to see it at last." + +"Now doan you be 'scouraged. 'Tween us we take keer ob her, an' she be a +heap betteh off eben ef she doan know it. You hab no dinner yit?" + +"We were just going to get it as you came." + +"Well now, honey, I habn't had a bite nudder, an' I'se gwine to take +dinneh heah ef you'se willin'." + +"Why, surely, Aun' Sheba. It's little we have, you but know I'd share my +last crust with you." + +Again the guest was bubbling over with good-natured merriment. "We ain't +got to de las' crus' yit, an' I couldn't make my dinneh on a crus' nohow. +Dar's one ting I'se jes' got to 'sist on in de pahnaship. I don't keer +notin' 'bout 'count books and sich, but ef we'se gwine to make a fort'n +you got to hab a heap o' po'er in you'se arms. You got to hab a strong +back and feel peart all ober. Dis de ony ting I 'sist on. Now how you +gwine to be plump and strong?" + +"Oh, I'm pretty strong, and I'll get stronger now that I have hope, and +see my way a little." + +"Hope am bery good fer 'sert, honey, but we want somep'n solider to start +in on. You jes' set de table in de oder room, an' I'll be de brack raben +dat'll pervide. Now you must min' kase I'se doing 'cording to Scripter, +an' we neber hab no luck 'tall if we go agin Scripter." + +"Very well," said Mara, laughing, "you shall have your own way. I see +through all your talk, but I know you'll feel bad if you can't carry out +your purpose. You'll have a better dinner, too." + +"Yeh, yeh, she knows a heap moah'n me," thought Aun' Sheba when alone, +"but I know some tings too, bress her heart. I kin see dat her cheeks am +pale and thin an' dat her eyes am gettin' so big and brack dat her purty +face am like a little house wid big winders. She got quality blood in her +vein, shuah, but habn't got neah 'nuff. Heah's de 'terial wat gibs hope +sometimes better'n preachin," and she whipped out the steak and prepared +it for the broiler. Then she clapped some potatoes into the oven, threw +together the constituents of light biscuit, and put the coffee over the +fire. A natural born cook, she was deft and quick, and had a substantial +repast ready in an amazingly short time. Soon it was smoking on the table, +and then she said with a significant little nod at Mara, "Now I'se gwine +to wait on Missus like ole times." + +Mara understood her and did not protest, for she felt the necessity of +humoring her aunt, who quite thawed out at the semblance of her former +state. While the poor lady enlarged on the thought that such should be the +normal condition of affairs, and would be if the world were not wholly out +of joint, she nevertheless dined so heartily as to prove that she could +still enjoy the good things of life if they were provided without personal +compromise on her part. Mara made a silent note of this, and felt more +strongly than ever that her aunt's needs and not her words must control +her actions. After dinner she said, "Come, aunty, you have had much to try +your nerves of late, and there must be much more not in harmony with your +feelings. It can't be helped, but I absolve you of all responsibility, and +I know very well if you had what was once your own, I would not have to +raise my hand. You see I am not seeking relief in the way that is so +utterly distasteful to you, and, when you come to think this plan all +over, you will admit that it is the one that would attract the least +attention, and involve the least change. Now lie down and take a good rest +this afternoon." + +"Well," said Mrs. Hunter, with the air of one yielding a great deal, "I +will submit, even though I can not approve, on the one condition that you +have nothing more to say to Mr. Clancy." + +A painful flush overspread Mara's features, and she replied in a +constrained voice, "You will have no occasion to worry about Mr. Clancy. +After--" then remembering that Aunt Sheba was within ear-shot, she +concluded, "Mr. Clancy will have nothing to say to me when he knows what +is taking place. When you have thought it over you will see that my plan +makes me independent of every one." + +"That is, if you succeed," remarked Mrs. Hunter, "and it will be about the +only thing to be said in its favor." + +This degree of toleration obtained, Mara prepared to join Aunt Sheba in +the kitchen, with the purpose of giving her whole thought and energy to +the securing of an independence, now coveted more than ever. In spite of +the influences and misapprehensions of her life which had tended to +separate her from Clancy, when she fully learned that he was affiliating +with those who dwelt as aliens in her thoughts, she had been overborne by +his words and the promptings of her own heart. She was glad, indeed, that +she had not revealed what she now regarded as her weakness, feeling that +it would have complicated matters most seriously. While she had been +compelled to see the folly of seclusion and inaction, the natural result +of a morbid pride which blinds as well as paralyzes, she was by no means +ready to accept his views or go to his lengths. She would have shared +poverty with him gladly if he would continue to be "a true Southerner," in +other words, one who submitted in cold and unrelenting protest to the new +order of things. In accepting this new order, and in availing himself of +it to advance his fortunes and those of his State as he also claimed, he +alienated her in spite of all his arguments, and his avowed love. She felt +that he should take the ground with her that they had suffered too deeply, +and had been wronged too greatly, to ignore the past. They were a +conquered people, but so were the Poles and Alsatians. Were those subject +races ready to take the hands that had struck them and still held them in +thraldom? Their indignant enmity was patriotism, not hate. Now that the +habitual thoughts of her life had been given time to resume their control, +she felt all the more bitterly what seemed a hopeless separation. The +North had not only robbed her of kindred and property, but was now taking +her lover. She knew she loved him, yet not for the sake of her love would +she be false to her deep-rooted feelings and convictions. If he had seen +how nearly she yielded to _him_, not to his views, the previous evening, +it would have been doubly hard to show him in the end that she could never +share in his life, unless he adopted her attitude of passive submission to +what could not be helped. + +Others might do as they pleased, but their dignity and personal memories +required this position, and, as she had said to him, she could take no +other course without hypocrisy, revolting alike to her feelings and sense +of honor. His strong words, however, combining with the circumstances of +her lot, had broken the spell of her aunt's influence, and had planted in +her mind the thought that any useless suffering on her part was not +loyalty to the memory of her father and mother. Her new impulse was to +make the most and best of her life as far as she could conscientiously: +and the hope would assert itself that if she were firm he would eventually +be won over to her position. "If he loves as I do," she thought, "he will +be. He, no doubt, is sincere, but he has been beguiled into seeing things +in the light of his immediate interests. Love to me, if it is genuine, and +loyalty to the cause for which his father gave his life, should lead him +to the dignified submission of the conquered and away from all association +with the conquerors that can be avoided. I'll prove to him," was her +mental conclusion, accompanied with a flash of her dark eyes, "that a girl +ignorant of the world and its ways, and with the help only of a former +slave, can earn her bread, and thus show him how needless are his Northern +allies." + +Thoughts like these had been swiftly coursing through her mind while +dining, and therefore, when she joined Aun' Sheba in the kitchen, she was +ready to employ every faculty, sharpened to the utmost, in the tasks +before her. + +In that humble arena, and by the prosaic method contemplated, she would +assert her unsubdued spirit, and maintain a consistency which should not +be marred, even at the bidding of love, by an insincere acceptance of his +views and associations. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +NEVER FORGET; NEVER FORGIVE + + +While Ann' Sheba finished her dinner Mara began to open and put in their +places the slender materials which she had purchased as her first step +toward self-support. The generous meal, and especially the coffee +combining with the strong incentive of her purpose, gave elasticity to her +step and flushed her face slightly with color. The old aunty watched her +curiously and sympathetically as she thought, "Bress her heart how purty +she am, bendin' heah an' dar like a willow an' lookin' de lady ebery inch +while she doin' kitchen work! Quar pahner fer sech an ole woman as me ter +hab, but I dun declar dat her han's, ef dey am little, seem po'ful smart. +Dey takes hole on tings jes' as if dey'd coax 'em right along whar she +wants dem!" Then she broke out, "Wot a fool dat Owen Clancy am!" + +Mara started and was suddenly busy in a distant part of the room. "I +reckon you are the only one that thinks so, Aun' Sheba," she remarked +quietly. + +"Ef he could see you now he'd tink so hisself." + +"Very likely," and there was a little bitterness in Mara's accent. + +"De mo' fool he be den," said Aun' Sheba with an indignant toss of her +head. "Whar ud his eyes be ef he could see you and not go down on his +marrow-bones, I'd like to know? Habn't I seen all de quality ob dis town? +and dat fer de new quality," with a snap of her fingers, "an you take de +shine off'n dem all eben in de kitchen. Law sakes, what kin' ob blood dat +man Clancy hab to lebe you kase you po'? Pears ter me de ole cun'l, his +fader, ud be orful figety in his coffin." + +"Mr. Clancy has not left me because I am poor, Aun' Sheba," said Mara +gravely. "You do him great injustice. We are not so good friends as we +were simply because we cannot agree on certain subjects. But I would +rather you would not talk about him to me or to any one else. Come now, +you must give me some lessons in your mystery of making cakes that melt in +one's mouth. Otherwise people will say you are growing old and losing your +high art." + +"Dey better not tell me no sech lies. Law, Missy, you is gwine ter beat me +all holler wen onst you gits de hang ob de work. You little white han's +gib fancy teches dat ain't in my big black han'. Arter all, tain't de +han's; it's de min'. Dere's my darter Mis Watson. Neber could larn her +much mo'n plain cookin'. Dere's a knack at dese tings dat's bawn in one. +It's wot you granpa used ter call genus, an' you allus hab it, eben when +you was a chile an' want ter muss in de kitchen." + +Thus full of reminiscence and philosophy eminently satisfactory to her own +mind, Aun' Sheba taught her apt and eager pupil the secrets of her craft. +Mara was up with the dawn on the following day, and achieved fair success. +Other lessons followed, and it was not very long before the girl passed +beyond the imitative stage and began to reason upon the principles +involved in her work and then to experiment. + +One day an old customer said to Aun' Sheba: "There's a new hand at the +bellows." + +"Dunno not'n 'bout bellus. Ain't de cakes right?" + +"Well, then, you've got some new receipts." + +"Like a'nuff I hab," said the vender warily. "De pint am, howsumeber, +isn't de cakes good?" + +"Yes, they seem better every day, but they are not the same every day. I +reckon some one's coaching you." + +"Law sakes, Massa, wo't you mean by coachin' me?" + +"Do you make the cakes?" was asked pointblank. + +"Now, Massa, you's gittin' too cur'us. Wot de Scripter say? Ask no +questions fer conscience' sake." + +"Come, come, Aun' Sheba; if you begin to wrest Scripture, I'll take pains +to find you out." + +She shuffled away in some trepidation and shook her head over the problem +of keeping her relations with Mara secret. "Missy puttin' her min' in de +cakes an' I didn't hab much min' to put in an' folks know de dif'ence," +she soliloquized. Later on she was down among the cotton warehouses, and +finding herself weary and warm, stopped to rest in the shade of a +building. Suddenly Owen Clancy turned the corner. His brow was contracted +as if in deep and not agreeable thought. + +Aun' Sheba's lowered at him, for he seemed about to pass her without +noticing her. The moment he became aware of her presence, however, he +stopped and fixed upon her his penetrating gray eyes. His gaze was so +persistent and stern that she was disconcerted, but she spoke with her +accustomed assurance: "You ain't gwine ter call de perlice, is you, Mars' +Clancy?" and she placed her arms akimbo on her hips. + +This reference was shrewd, for it reminded him that his grievance was +purely personal and one that he could not resent in her case, yet his +heart was so sore with the suspicion that Mara was looking to this negress +for help instead of to himself, that for the time being he detested the +woman. Love is not a judicial quality, and rarely has patience with those +who interfere with its success. He had hoped that eventually the pressure +of poverty would turn Mara's thoughts to him, especially as he had +revealed so emphatically his wish to help her disinterestedly as a friend +even; but if his present fears were well grounded, he would have to admit +that her heart had grown utterly cold toward him. + +"Why should you think of the police, Aun' Sheba, unless you have something +on your mind?" he asked, coolly removing the cover of the basket and +helping himself. "You didn't make these cakes. Did you steal them?" + +"Marse Clancy, what you take me fer?" + +"That depends on how honest your answers are."' + +"I ain't 'bliged ter answer 'tall." + +"Oh, you're afraid then." + +"No, I ain't afeerd. Ef dey is stolen, you'se a 'ceivin ob stolen goods, +fum de way dem cakes dis'pearin'." + +"You're pert, Aun'Sheba." + +"Oh co'se I'se peart. Hab to be spry to arn a libin' in dese yer times, +but I can do it fum dem dat's fren'ly and not fum dem dat glower at me." + +"Will you tell me if Miss Wallingford--" + +"Marse Clancy, hab Miss Wallingford sent you word dat she want you to know +'bout her 'fairs?" + +"I understand," he said almost savagely, and throwing a quarter into the +basket he passed on. + +There had been a tacit understanding at first that Mara's part in Aun' +Sheba's traffic should not be revealed. The girl had not wholly shaken off +the influence of her aunt's opposition, and she shrank with almost morbid +dread from being the subject of remark even among those of her own class. +The chief and controlling motive for secrecy, however, had been distrust, +the fear that the undertaking would not be successful. As the days had +passed this fear had been removed. Aun' Sheba did not come to make her +returns until after she had taken her supper in the evening, and at about +ten in the morning she reached Mara's home by an unfrequented side street. +There were those, however, who had begun to notice the regularity of her +visits and among them was Owen Clancy. We have also seen that the +daintiness of the viands had caused surmises. + +Mara had become preoccupied with her success and with plans for increasing +it. At first Aun' Sheba had supplemented her attempts, and her plan had +been entered on so quietly and carried forward so smoothly that even Mrs. +Hunter was becoming reconciled to the scheme although she tried to conceal +the fact. It would be hard to find two women more ignorant of the world, +or more averse to being known by it, yet from it the unsophisticated girl +now hoped to divert a little sustaining rill of currency without a ripple +of general comment until the hour should come when she could reveal the +truth to Clancy as a rebuke to his course and as a suggestion that a man +might do more and yet not compromise himself. Full of these thoughts and +hopes, her life, if not happy, had at least ceased to stagnate and was +growing in zest and interest. + +The day on which occurred the events just narrated was destined to prove a +fateful one. When Aun' Sheba came in the evening it was soon evident that +she had something on her mind. She paid little heed to the accounts while +Mara was writing them down and explaining the margin of profit, as the +girl was always careful to do, for it satisfied her conscience that her +over-loyal partner was prospering now as truly as before. After everything +had been attended to and the programme arranged for the morning, Aun' +Sheba still sat and fidgeted in her chair. Mara leaned back in hers and +looking across the kitchen table said: "Be honest now. There's something +you want to say." + +"Don't want ter say it, but s'pose I ought." + +"I reckon you had, Aun' Sheba." + +The woman's native shrewdness had been sharpened by the varied experience +of her calling, and she had become convinced that the policy of secrecy +would be a failure. What would be Mara's course when compelled to face the +truth, was the question that troubled her. The kind soul hoped that it +would make no difference, and proposed to use all her tact to induce the +girl to continue her enterprise openly, believing that this course would +be best for several reasons. She had the wit to know that Mara would yield +far more out of consideration for her than for any thought of self, so she +said as a masterpiece of strategy, "Marse Clancy ax me to-day if I stole +de cakes." + +"What," cried Mara, flushing hotly. + +"Jes dat--ef I stole de cakes; an' anoder man say I was gittin' new +reseets or dat somebody was coachin' me, whateber dat is. Den he put it +right straight, 'Did you make 'em?'" + +"Oh, Aun' Sheba, I've thoughtlessly been causing trouble. I should have +continued to make the cakes just as you did, and it was only to divert my +mind that I tried other ways. I won't do so any more." + +"Dunno 'bout dat, honey." + +"Indeed I will not when I promise you." + +"I doesn't want any sech a promise. De folks like de new-fangle' cakes +betteh, an' gwine back to de ole way wouldn't do no good. It's all +boun'ter come out dat I'se sellin' fer you as well as fer me. Marse Clancy +axed ef you wasn't, leastways he 'gan to ax when I shut him up." + +"How did you shut him up?" said Mara, breathing quickly. + +"By axin' him anoder question. Yah, yah, I'se Yankee 'nuff fer dat. I say, +'Hab Miss Wallingford sen' you word dat she want you to know 'bout her +'fairs'?" + +"Didn't he say anything after that?" + +"Yes, he say 'I understand,' an' I'spect he do, fer he drap a quarter in +my basket an' look as if he was po'ful mad as he walk away. He better min' +his own business." + +Mara understood Clancy and Aun' Sheba did not. The young girl was troubled +and perplexed, for she could not but see in her lover's mind the effect of +her step. She felt that it was natural he should be hurt and even angered +to learn that, after all he had offered to do for her, she should avail +herself of Aun' Sheba's services instead of his. What she feared most was +that he would take it as final evidence that she was hostile to him +personally and not merely estranged because he would not conform his views +and life to her own. Her secret and dearest purpose, that of teaching him +that he could live without compromise as she could, might be defeated. +What if the very act should lead to the belief that she no longer wished +to have any part in his life? A girl cannot feel that same toward a man +who has told her openly of his love, for such words break down the +barriers of maidenly reserve even in her own self-communings. Since he had +spoken so plainly she could think more plainly. She knew well how mistaken +Aun' Sheba was in her judgment, but could not explain that Clancy felt he +was not only rejected as a lover but had been ignored even as a helpful +friend; and her own love taught her to gauge the bitterness of this +apparent truth. + +She soon became conscious that Aun' Sheba was watching her troubled face, +and to hide her deeper thoughts she said, "Yes, I suppose it is all bound +to come out. Well, let it. You shall not be misjudged." "Law sake, Missy, +wot does I keer! De ting dat trouble me is dat you'se gwine to keer too +much. I doan want you to gib up and I doan want you to be flustered ef you +fin' it's known. De pa'hnership, as you call 'im, been doin' you a heap o' +good. You'se min' been gettin' int'usted an' you fo'gits you'se troubles. +Dat's wot pleases me. Now to my po' sense, folks is a heap betteh off, +takin' keer ob dem selves, dan wen dey worry 'bout wat dis one say an' dat +one do. Dere is lots ob folks dat'll talk 'bout you a month dat won't lif' +dere finger for you a minit. An' wat can dey say, honey, dat'll harm you? +You prouder'n all ob dem, but you got dis kin' ob pride. Ef de rent fall +due you fight again eben you'se ole nuss payin' it. Talk's only breff, but +an empty pocket mean an orful lot ob trouble to folks who ain't willin' to +take out ob dere pocket wat dey didn't put dere." + +"Yes, Aun' Sheba, I think it would be the worst kind of trouble." + +"I know it ud be fer you, but dar's Unc. He'd like his pocket filled ebery +day an' he wouldn't keer who filled it ef he could spend. He'd say de Lawd +pervided. Unc.'d rather trust de Lawd dan work any day." + +"I am afraid you are not very religious," said Mara, smiling. + +"Well, I of'n wonder wedder I'se 'ligious or no," resumed Aun' Sheba, +introspectively. "Some sarmons and prars seem like bread made out ob bran, +de bigger de loaf de wuss it is. Unc. says I'se very cole an backsliden, +but I'd be a heap colder ef I didn't keep up de wood-pile. + +"And you help others keep up their wood-piles." + +"Well, I reckon I does, but dere ain't much 'ligion in dat. Dat's kin' ob +human natur which de preacher say am bad, bery bad stuff. De Lawd knows I +say my prars sho't so as to be up an' doin'. Anyhow I doan belebe he likes +ter be hollered at so, as dey do in our meetin' an' Unc. says dat sech +talk am 'phemous. But dat ain't heah nor dar. We'se gwine right along, +honey, ain't we? We'se gwine ter min' our own business jes' as if we'se +the bigges' pahners in de town?" + +"Yes, Aun' Sheba, you can say what you please hereafter, and I want you to +come and go openly. I should have taken the stand before and saved you +from coming out evenings. It has been far more on Aunty's account than on +my own." + +"Well, honey, now my min's at res' an' I belebe we do po'ful lot ob trade. +Dat orful human natur gwine to come in now an' I belebe dat folks who know +you an' all 'bout you'se family will help you, 'stid ob talkin' agin you. +You see. You knows I doan' mean no disrespec' to ole Missus, but she'd jes +sit down an' starbe, tinkin' ob de good dinners she orter hab, an' did hab +in de ole times. All you'se folks in hebin is a smilin' on you, honey. Dey +is, fer I feels it in my bones. You'se got de co'age ob you pa an' granpa +an' dey know, jes' as we knows, dat ole Missus take a heap mo' comfort +grumblin' dan in bein' hungry." + +"Oh, Aun' Sheba, do you truly think they know about my present life?" the +girl asked, with wet eyes. + +"Dat's a bery deep question, honey, but it kin' a seem reason'ble ter me +dat wen you gettin' on well an' wen you doin' good to some po' soul de +Lawd'll sen' an angel to tell 'em. Wen dey ain't hearin' notin' I spects +dey's got to tink as we does dat no news is good news." + +The girl was deeply moved, for the vernacular of her old nurse had been +familiar from childhood and did not detract from the sacred themes +suggested. "Oh, that I could have seen my father," she sighed. "Portraits +are so unsatisfying. Tell me again just how he looked." + +"He'd be proud ob you, honey, an' you kin be proud ob him. You hab his +eyes, only you'se is bigger and of'n look as if you'se sorrowin' way down +in you soul. Sometimes, eben wen you was a baby, you'd look so long an' +fixed wid you big sad eyes as if you seed it all an' know'd it all dat I +used to boo-hoo right out. Nuder times I'd be skeered, fer you'd reach out +you'se little arms as ef you seed you'se moder an' wanted to go to her. De +Lawd know bes' why he let such folks die. She was like a passion vine +creepin' up de oak--all tender and clingin' an' lubin', wid tears in her +blue eyes ebin wen he pettin' her, an' he was tall an' straight an' strong +wid eyes dat laffed or flashed jes as de 'casion was. I kin see him now +come marchin' down Meetin' Street at de head ob his men, all raised +hisself. He walk straight as an arrow wid his sword flashin' in de +sunshine an' a hundred men step tromp, tromp, arter him as ef dey proud to +follow. Missy Mary stood on de balc'ny lookin' wid all her vi'let eyes an' +wabin' her hank'chief. Oh, how purty she look! de roses in her cheek, her +bref comin' quick, bosom risin' an' fallin', an' she a-tremblin' an' alibe +all ober wid excitement an' pride an' lub. Wen he right afore de balc'ny +his voice rung out like a trumpet, 'Right 'bout, face. 'Sent arms.' I dun +declar dat 'fore we could wink dey was all in line frontin' us wid dere +guns held out. Den he s'lute her wid his sword an' she take a red rose fum +her bosom an' trow it to him an' he pick it up an' put it to his lips; den +it was 'Right 'bout! March!' an' away dey went tromp, tromp, towa'ds de +Bat'ry. I kin see it all. I kin see it all. O Lawd, Lawd, dey's all dead," +and she rocked back and forth, wiping her eyes with her apron. + +Mara sprang up, her streaming tears dried by the hotness of her +indignation as she cried, "And I too can see him, with his little band, +dashing against almost an army and then trodden in the soil he died to +defend. No, no, Owen Clancy, never!" + +"Ah," said a low stern voice, "that's the true spirit. Now, Mara, you are +your father's child. Never forget; never forgive," and they saw that Mrs. +Hunter stood with them in the dim kitchen. + +"Dunno 'bout dat, Missus. Reckon de wah am ober, an' what we gwine ter do +wid de Lawd's prar? Dar, dar, honey, 'pose you'se nerves. 'Taint bes' to +tink too much ob de ole times, an' I mustn't talk to you so no mo'." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A NEW SOLACE + + +On her way home Aun' Sheba shook her head more than once in perplexity and +disapprobation over what she had heard. She had the freedom of speech of +an old family servant who had never been harshly repressed even when a +slave, and now was added the fearlessness of a free woman. Her affection +for Mara was so strong that in her ignorance she shared in some of the +girl's prejudices against the North, but not in her antipathy. The thought +that Clancy had waned in his regard or that he could even think of a +Northern girl after having "kep' company" with Mara, had been +exasperating, but now Aun' Sheba began to suspect that the estrangement +was not wholly his fault. "She set agin him by his gwine Norf an' his +habin' to do wid de folks dat she an' ole Missus hates. Doan see why he is +mad at me 'bout it. Reckon he's mad anyhow an' can't speak peac'ble to +nobody. Well, I likes him a heap betteh in dat view ob de case an' he kin +glower at me all he please 'long as he ain't 'sertin' young Missy case she +is po'. Couldn't stan' dat no how. He's willin' an' she ain't, an' dat wat +she mean by sayin' 'No, Owen Clancy, nebbeh.' She won't lis'n to him kase +he doan hate de Norf like pizen. Now dat is foolishness, an' she's sot up +to it by de ole Missus. De Norf does as well as it know how. To be sure, +it ain't quality like young Missy, but it buy de cotton an' it got de +po'r. Wat's mo', it gib me a chance to wuck fer mysef. I would do as much +fer young Missy as eber. I'd wuck my fingers off fer her, but I likes ter +do it like white folks, kase I lub her. She orten' be so hard on young +Clancy. He got his way ter make and dere'd be no good in his buttin' his +head agin a wall. Tings am as dey is, an' I'm glad dey is as dey am. Dey's +a long sight betteh fer cullud folks and white folks too, ef dey's a min' +ter pull wid de curren' sted ob agin it. Massa Clancy's no fool. He know +dis. He los' his pa an his prop'ty too, but he know betteh dan to go on +hatin' fereber. Dey can't spec' me to uphole dem in dis fer it agin de +Scripter an' my feelin's. Ole Missus bery 'ligious. She dun fergit wat de +words mean she say ebry Sunday, But den, wot de use ob callin' ole Missus +to 'count. She neber could see ony her side ob de question. It don make +any dif'ence to her how many widers dere is in de Norf an' she hab jes +dinged her 'pinions inter young Missy eber sence she was bawn. I'se glad +ter do fer dem long as I lib, but I'se gwine ter speak my min' too." + +With such surmises and self-communings she reached her home and found +Uncle Sheba asleep in his chair and the fire out. She nodded at him +ominously and muttered, "I gib him anuder lesson." Slipping quietly into +the bedroom, she bolted the door, and, unrelenting to all remonstrances +left him to get through the night as well as he could in his chair. The +result justified the wisdom of the means employed, for thereafter Uncle +Sheba always had a good fire when she returned. + +Aun' Sheba had correctly interpreted the ellipsis suggested by Mara's +passionate utterance. The scenes called up by her old nurse's words and +rendered vivid by a strong imagination again presented themselves as an +impassable barrier between herself and her lover unless he should feel +their significance as she did. As a woman her heart was always pleading +for him, but when strongly excited by the story of the past her anger +flamed that he should even imagine that she would continue her regard for +him. Indeed she wondered and was almost enraged at herself that she could +not at once blot out his image and dismiss him from her thoughts when he +was taking the course of all others most repugnant to her. At such moments +she could easily believe that all was over between them, but with quiet +persistence her heart knew better, and preferred love to enmities and sad +memories. + +Moreover, passionate as had been her mood there was a hard, homely +common-sense in her old nurse's words, "Reckon de wah's ober an' wat you +gwine ter do wid de Lawd's prar?" that quenched her fire like cold water. +No one can be in a false position, out of harmony with normal laws and +principles, without meeting spiritual jars. Mara was too young and too +intelligent not to recognize the difficulties in maintaining her position, +but she believed sincerely that the circumstances of her lot justified +this position and made it the only honorable one for her. Northerners were +to her what the Philistines were to the ancient Hebrews, the hereditary +foes from which she had suffered the chief ills of her life. To compromise +with them was to compromise with evil, and therefore she was always able +to reason away the significance of all words like those of Aun' Sheba, +although for the moment they troubled her. + +Mrs. Hunter, however, had long since been incapable of doubts or +compunctions. She tolerated Aun' Sheba's outspokenness as she would that +of a child or a slave babbling of matters far above her comprehension. + +The day marked a change in Mara's policy and action, and these led to some +very important experiences. A false pride had at first prompted, or at +least induced her to acquiesce in secrecy; now an honest pride led her to +openness in all her efforts to obtain a livelihood. She would volunteer no +information, but would simply go on in an unhesitating manner, let the +consequences be what they might. + +They soon began to take a surprisingly agreeable form, for the quick warm +sympathies of the Southern people were touched. Here was a young girl, the +representative of one of the oldest and best families, seeking quietly and +unostentatiously to support herself and her aged aunt. There had been +scores of people who would gladly have offered her assistance, but they +had respected her reticence in regard to her affairs as jealously as they +guarded the condition of their own. Frank in the extreme with each other +in most respects, there was an impoverished class in the city who would +suffer much rather than reveal pecuniary need or accept the slightest +approach to charity. Poverty was no reproach among these families that had +once enjoyed wealth in abundance. Indeed it was rather like a badge of +honor, for it indicated sacrifice for the "lost cause" and an unreadiness +for thrifty compacts and dealings with those hostile to that cause. In the +class to which Mara belonged, therefore, she gained rather than lost in +social consideration, and especial pains were taken to assure her of this +fact. + +Those in whose veins, even in Mrs. Hunter's estimation, flowed the oldest +and bluest blood, called more frequently and spoke words of cheer and +encouragement. That good lady, in a rich but antiquated gown, received the +guests and was voluble in Mara's praises and in lamentation over the +wrongs of the past. The majority were sympathetic listeners, but all were +glad that the girl could do and was willing to do something more than +complain. To their credit it should be said that they were ready to do +more than sympathize, for even the most straitened found that they could +spare something for Mara's cake, and Aun' Sheba's basket began to be +emptied more than once every day. Orders were given also, and the young +girl had all she could do to keep up with the growing demand. + +It was well for her that each day brought its regular work, and its close +found her too weary for the brooding so often the bane of idleness. Yet, +in spite of all that was encouraging, the cheering words spoken to her, +the elation of Aun' Sheba and the excitement resulting from her humble +prosperity, she was ever conscious of a dull ache at heart. Clancy had +gone North for an indefinite absence, and it looked as if their separation +were final. In vain she assured herself that it was best that they should +not meet again until both were satisfied that their paths led apart. She +knew that she had hoped his path would come back to hers--that in secret +she hoped this still, with a pathetic persistence which defied all effort. +She believed, however, that such effort was her best resource, for he was +again under the influences she most feared and detested. At times she +reproached herself for having been too reserved, too proud and passionate +in her resentment at his course. He had asked her to convince him of his +error if she could, and she had not only failed to make such effort, but +also had denied him the hope that would have been more than all argument. +Thus, at variance with her heart, she alternated between the two extremes +of anger at his course and regret and compunction at her own. As a rule, +though, her resolute will enabled her to concentrate her thoughts on daily +occupations and immediate interests, and it became her chief aim to so +occupy herself with these interests that no time should be left for +thoughts which now only tended to distress and discourage. + +Mara was a girl who consciously would be controlled by a few simple +motives rather than by impulses, circumstances or the influence of others. +We have seen that loyalty, as she understood it, was her chief motive. Her +love for parents she had never seen was profound, and all relating to them +was sacred. To do what she believed would be pleasing to them, what would +now reflect honor upon their memory, was her supreme duty. All other +motives would be dominated by this pre-eminent one and all action guided +by it. She felt that the effort to provide for her aunt, the one remaining +member of her family, and to enable her to spend her remaining days in the +congenial atmosphere of the past, would certainly be in accord with her +parents' wishes. Then by natural sequence her sympathies went out to those +whose fortunes, like her own, had been wrecked by the changes against +which they could interpose only a helpless protest. In various ways she +learned of those of her own class who had been disabled and impoverished, +whose lives were stripped of the embroidery of pleasant little +gratifications only permitted by a surplus of income. It gradually came to +be a cherished solace after the labors of the morning, to carry to the +sick and afflicted, dwelling in homes of faded gentility like her own, +some delicacy made by her own hands. While these were received in the +spirit in which they were brought, the girl's lovely, sympathetic face was +far more welcome, and the orphan began to embody to those of the old +regime the cause for which they all had suffered so much. Within this +limited circle Mara was kindness and gentleness itself, beyond it cold and +unapproachable. Occasionally some, with whom she had no sympathy, sought +to patronize her. They intimated that they were willing to buy lavishily, +but it was also evident that they wished their good-will appreciated and +reciprocated in ways that excited the girl's scorn. In spite of her +poverty and homely work, it was known that she was a favorite in the most +aristocratic circle in the city, and there are always those ready to seek +social recognition in many and devious ways. These pushing people +represented to Mara the Northern element and leaven in the city, and she +soon made it clear that there was an invisible line beyond which they +could not pass. Their orders were either declined or scrupulously filled, +if her time permitted, but with a quiet tact which was inflexible she +warded off every approach which was not purely commercial. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +MISS AINSLEY + + +While in New York, Owen Clancy had been kept informed of the drift of +those events in which he was especially interested. While Mara's effort +had increased his admiration for her, its success had still further +discouraged his hope. In his way he was as proud as she was. He had +committed himself to a totally different line of action, for in his +business relations he had been led into friendly relations with many +Northern people in both cities. He had accepted and returned their +hospitalities in kind as far as it was possible for a young bachelor of +modest means. This courtesy had been expected and accepted as a matter of +course, and to exchange it for cold, freezing politeness limited only to +matters of trade, would not only subject him to ridicule but cut short his +business career. Considerations supreme in Mara's circle were ignored by +the great world, and, having once felt the impulses of the large currents +of life, it would be impossible for Clancy to withdraw into the little +side eddy wherein thought was ever turning back to no purpose. Having +clasped hands and broken bread with the men and women of the North, he +felt that he could not, and would not stultify himself, even for the sake +of his love, by any change toward them. They would despise him not only as +a miracle of narrowness but also as an insincere man, whose courtesy had +been but business policy, easily dropped at the bidding of some more +pressing interest. + +His last interview with Mara had depressed him exceedingly, for while it +had increased his love it had also revealed to him the radical divergence +in their views and made it more clear that he could only hope to win her +love by the sacrifice of self-respect. He must cease to be a thinking, +independent man, a part of his own day and generation, and fix his +thoughts upon the dead issues of the past. "The idea," he would mutter, +"of sitting down and listening to Mrs. Hunter's inane and endless lament." +He could not conform to Mara's views without being guilty of hypocrisy +also, and she proved her narrowness by not recognizing this truth. + +After all, the point of view was chiefly the cause of the trouble between +them. She had ever dwelt in the shaded valley; he had been on the +mountain-top, and so had secured a broad range of vision. He had come into +contact with the great forces which were making the future and the men of +the future, and he recognized that his own State and his own people must +be vitalized by these forces or else be left far behind. And he +represented a large and increasing class in his native city. In birth and +breeding he was the peer of Mara or any of her aristocratic circle. He had +admission to the best society in the State, and, if looked upon coldly by +some, it was for the same reasons which actuated the girl for whom he +would gladly yield everything except his principles and right of private +judgment. + +While he had many warm, sympathetic friends he felt that the old should +give way to the new, he yet ran against the prejudices which Mara embodied +so often that he began to feel ill at ease in Charleston. + +He thought of removing permanently to cosmopolitan New York more than once +during his absence North. If he should be fully convinced after his return +that Mara was lost to him, unless he became a part of her implacable and +reactionary coterie, it might be better for his peace of mind that he were +far away. + +One evening, before his departure home, he was invited to dine with a +gentleman who had large railroad interests in the South. Mr. Ainsley was a +widower, a man of wealth, and absorbed in the pleasure of its increase. He +had made a business acquaintance with Clancy, and, finding him unusually +intelligent and well informed in regard to Southern matters, naturally +wished to converse more at length with him. The cordial invitation, the +hearty welcome of the Northern capitalist could scarcely fail in +gratifying the young Southerner, who keenly felt the importance of +interesting just such men as his host in the enterprises under +consideration. During the preliminary talk in the library of his palatial +home, Mr. Ainsley soon discovered that his guest was not only well +informed but frank and honest in statements, giving the cons as well as +the pros, in spite of an evident desire to secure for the South all the +advantages possible. + +Before going to the dining-room, Miss Caroline, his host's only daughter, +entered the library and was presented. Clancy was fairly dazzled by her +remarkable beauty. She was a blonde of the unusual type characterized by +dark eyes and golden hair. Naturally, therefore, the first impression of +beauty was vivid, nor was it banished by closer observation. As she +presided with ease and grace at her father's table, Clancy found himself +fascinated as he had never been before by a stranger. + +Although their table-talk lost its distinctively business and statistical +character, Mr. Ainsley still pursued his inquiries in a broad, general +way, and the daughter also asked questions in regard to life and society +at the South which indicated a personal interest on her part. + +At last she said, "Papa thinks it quite possible that we may spend some +time in your region, and in that case we should probably make Charleston +our headquarters. I have a friend, Mrs. Willoughby--do you know her?" + +"Yes, indeed; a charming lady. She resides on the Battery." + +"I'm glad you know her. I met her abroad, and we became very fond of each +other. She has often asked me to visit her, but as I rarely leave Papa, +the way has never opened." + +"My daughter is very good in accompanying me in my various business +expeditions," her father explained, "and you know they do not often lead +to fashionable watering-places, nor can they always be adjusted to such +seasons as I could desire. I wish I could go to Charleston at an early +date, but in view of other interests, I cannot tell when I can get away." + +"When I do come, I shall make the most of my name and insist on being +regarded as a Carolinian," said Miss Ainsley, laughing. + +Clancy was pleased with the conceit and the delicate compliment implied, +but he was already impressed with the idea that his hostess was the most +cosmopolitan girl that he had ever met. She piqued his curiosity, and he +led her to talk of her experiences abroad. Apparently she had been as much +at home in Europe as in America, and had been received in the highest +social circles everywhere. When after dinner she played for him some +brilliant, difficult classical music, he began to regard her a perfect +flower of metropolitan culture. Yet she perplexed him. She revealed so +much about herself without the slightest hesitation, yet at the same time +seemed to veil herself completely. He and her father could broach no topic +of conversation in which she could not take an intelligent part. Matters +of European policy were touched upon, and she was at home in regard to +them. She smiled broadly when he tried to explain to her father that +patience would still be required with the South, but that in time the two +parts of the country would be more firmly welded together than ever. "Such +antipathies amuse me," she said. "It is one side keeping up a quarrel +which the other has forgotten all about." + +"The circumstances are different, Miss Ainsley," Clancy replied. "The war +cost me my father, my property, and impoverished my State." + +He could not tell whether her eyes expressed sympathy or not, for they had +beamed on him with a soft alluring fire from the first, but her father +spoke up warmly: "The North has not forgotten, especially the older +generation. We have not suffered materially and have become absorbed in +new interests, but the heart of the North was wounded as truly as that of +the South. I wish to assure you, Mr. Clancy, how deeply I sympathize with +and honor your spirit of conciliation. What is there for us all but to be +Americans? Believe me, sir, such men as yourself are the strength and hope +of your section." + +"I believe with you, Mr. Ainsley, that it has been settled that we are to +have but one destiny as a nation, but in justice to my people I must say +that our wounds were so deep and the changes involved so vast that it is +but reasonable we should recover slowly. You may say that we committed +errors during the reconstruction period, yet they were errors natural to a +conquered people. In the censure we have received from many quarters we +have been almost denied the right to our common human nature. Possibly the +North, in our position would not have acted very differently. But the past +_is_ past, and the question is now, what is right and wise? I know that I +represent a strong and growing sentiment which desires the unity and +prosperity of the entire country. I in turn, sir, can say that men like +yourself, in coming among us and investing their money do more than all +politicians in increasing this sentiment. It proves that you trust us; and +trust begets trust and good feeling. The North, however, will always be +mistaken if it expects us to denounce our fathers or cease to honor the +men who fought and prayed for what they believed was right." + +"Suppose, Mr. Clancy," Miss Ainsley asked, with mirthful eyes, "that a +party in the South had the power to array your section against the North +again, would you go with your section?" + +"Oh, come, Carrie, it is scarcely fair to ask tests on utterly improbable +suppositions," said her father laughing, yet he awaited Clancy's answer +with interest. + +"No," he said quietly, "not with the light I now possess. I would have +done so five years ago. Are Northern young men so intrinsically wise and +good that they are not influenced by their traditions and immediate +associations?" + +"Mr. Clancy, where are your eyes? Go to the Delmonico cafe at noon +to-morrow, and observe the flower of our patrician youth taking their +breakfast. You will see beings who are intrinsically what they are." + +"I fear we are rather even in this respect," said Clancy, laughing. "You +have your metropolitan dudes and manikins, and we our rural ruffians, +slaves of prejudice, who hate progress, schools and immigration, as they +do soap and water. There is some consideration for our fellows, however, +for they scarcely know any better, and many of their characteristics are +bred in the bone. It would almost seem that the class you refer to are +fools and nonentities from choice." + +"I fear not," she said, lifting her eyebrows, "if I were a medical student +I should be tempted to kill one of them--it wouldn't be murder--to see if +he had a brain." + +"You think brain, then, is absolutely essential?' + +"Yes, indeed. I could endure a man without a heart, but not if he were a +fool. If a man is not capable of thinking himself into what is sensible he +is a poor creature." + +Clancy shrugged his shoulders in slight protest and soon after took his +leave, having first acquiesced in an appointment with Mr. Ainsley at his +office in the morning. + +On the way to his hotel and until late into the night, he thought over his +experiences of the evening. Did Miss Ainsley intend to compliment him by +suggesting that he was thinking himself into what was sensible? It was +difficult to tell what she intended as far as he was concerned. "She could +only have the most transient interest in such a stranger as I am," he +reasoned, "yet her eyes were like magnets. They both fascinate and awaken +misgivings. Perhaps they are the means by which she discovers whether a +man is a fool or not; if he speedily loses his head under their spells, +she mentally concludes, weighs and finds wanting. Probably, however, like +hosts of pretty women, she simply enjoys using her powers and seeing men +succumb; and men not forearmed and steeled as I am, might well hesitate to +see her often, for my impression is right strong that she has more brain +than heart. Yet she is a dazzling creature. Jove, what a contrast to Mara! +Yet there is a nobility and womanly sincerity in Mara's expression than I +cannot discover in Miss Ainsley's face. However wrong Mara may be, you are +sure she is sincere and that she would be true to her conscience even if +she put the whole North to the sword; but this brilliant girl--how much +conscience and heart has she? Back of all her culture and accomplishments +there is a woman; yet what kind of a woman? Well, the prospects are that I +may have a chance to find out when she comes South. One thing is certain, +she will not discover that I am a fool by speedily kindling a vain +sentiment. Yet I would like to find her out, to discover the moral texture +of her being. A girl like Miss Ainsley could more than fulfil a man's +ideal or else make his life a terror." + +He called again just before his departure, and saw her alone. As at first, +she appeared to veil the woman in her nature completely, while, at the +same time, the mild lightning of her eyes played about him. + +Although consciously on his guard he found himself fascinated in spite of +himself by her marvellous beauty, and his curiosity piqued more than ever. +He discovered that her range of reading was wide, especially in modern +European literature, and he was charmed by her broad, liberal views. +Perhaps it was because he was singularly free from egotism that he was so +conscious of her fine reticence which took the mask of apparent frankness. +Most men would have been flattered by her seeming interest in them and +willingness to listen to all they had to say about themselves. According +to Clancy's opinion, conversation should be an equal interchange. He +looked direct into Miss Ainsley's eyes. They bewildered and perplexed him, +for they appeared to gather the rays of some light he did not understand +and focus them upon himself. He wished he could see her in the society of +other men and could learn more of her antecedents so that he might better +account for her, but he went away feeling that she was more of an enigma +than ever. + +The glamour of her perplexing personality was upon him during much of his +journey, but as he approached his native city thoughts of Mara +predominated. Was she utterly estranged, and was the secret of her +coldness due to the truth that he had never had any real hold upon her +heart? If Mrs. Hunter had not so harshly interposed at the critical moment +of their last interview, he believed that he would have discovered why it +was she said he was "breaking her heart." Was it because he charged her +with disloyalty to her kindred? Or had his own course which she felt was +separating them some part in her distress? The fact that she had been +silent to his last appeal, that she had proved his fears in regard to her +poverty to be true, yet had sought aid from such an unexpected source, +rather than permit him to endow her with his love and all that it +involved, forced him to the miserable conclusion that she had at least +decided against him. + +But hope dies hard in a lover's breast. He longed to see her again, yet +how could he see her except in the presence of others? + +He knew they soon would meet; he was determined that they should; and +possibly something in her involuntary manner or expression might suggest +that she had thought of his words in his absence. + +She had thought of his words as we know, but she had also been given other +food for reflection which the following chapter will reveal. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +TWO QUESTIONS + + +In the division of labor between Mara and her aunt, the latter, with the +assistance of their landlady's daughter, tried to leave the young girl few +tasks beyond that of filling Aun' Sheba's basket. + +Mrs. Hunter was also expected to be ready to receive callers, and excuse +Mara during the morning hours. Under the new order of things, more people +dropped in than in former times, for, as we have seen, it had become a +kindly fashion to show good-will. The caller on a certain morning in April +was not wholly actuated by sympathy, for she had news which she believed +would be interesting if not altogether agreeable. Clancy's attentions had +not been unknown, and he had at first suffered in the estimation of others +as well as of Aun' Sheba, because of his apparent neglect. The impression, +however, had been growing, that Mara had withdrawn her favor on account of +his friendly relations with Northern people and his readiness to bury the +past. The morning visitor had not only learned of a new proof of his +objectionable tendencies, but also--so do stories grow as they +travel--that he was paying attention to a New York belle and heiress. Mrs. +Hunter was soon possessed of these momentous rumors, and when, at last, +weary from her morning labors, Mara sat down to their simple dinner, she +saw that her aunt was preternaturally solemn and dignified. The girl +expressed no curiosity, for she knew that whatever burdened her aunt's +mind would soon be revealed with endless detail and comment. + +"Well," ejaculated Mrs. Hunter at last, "my impressions concerning people +are usually correct, and it is well for you that they are. If it had not +been for me you might have become entangled in association with a man +false and disloyal in all respects. I say entangled in association, +resulting from a moment of weakness, for assuredly the instant you gained +self-possession and had time for thought, you would have repudiated +everything. I saved you from the embarrassment of all this, and now you +can realize how important was the service I rendered. I have heard of the +performances of Mr. Clancy at the North." + +The hot flush on Mara's cheeks followed by pallor proved that her +indifference had been thoroughly banished, but she only looked at her aunt +like one ready for a blow. + +"Yes," resumed Mrs. Hunter, "the story has come very straight--straight +from that young Mrs. Willoughby, who, with her husband, seems as ready to +forget and condone all that the South has suffered as your devoted admirer +himself. Devoted indeed! He is now paying his devotions at another shrine. +A Northern girl with her Northern gold is the next and natural step in his +career, and he said to her pointblank that if the South again sought to +regain her liberty, he would not help. He wasn't a Samson, but he was not +long in being shorn by a Northern Delilah of what little strength he had." + +"How do you know that this is true?" asked Mara rigid, with suppressed +feeling. + +"Oh, Mrs. Willoughby must talk if the heavens fell. It seems that she met +this Northern girl abroad, and that they have become great friends. She +has received a letter, and it is quite probable that this girl will come +here. It would be just like her to follow up her new admirer. Mrs. +Willoughby is so hot in her advocacy of what she terms the 'New South,' +that she must speak of everything which seems to favor her pestilential +ideas. By birth she belongs to the Old South and the only true South, and +she tries to keep in with it, but she is getting the cold shoulder from +more than one." + +Mara said nothing, but her brow contracted. + +"You take it very quietly," remarked her aunt severely. + +"Yes," said Mara. + +"Well, if I were in your place I would be on fire with indignation." + +"Perhaps I would be if I did not care very much," was the girl's +constrained answer. + +"I do not see how you can care except as I do." + +"You are you, aunty, and I am myself. People are not all made exactly +alike." + +"But a girl should have some self-respect." + +"Yes, aunty, and she should be respected. I am one to show my self-respect +by deeds, not words. You must not lecture me any more now as if I were a +child," and she rose and left her almost untasted dinner. + +A little thought soon satisfied Mrs. Hunter that the iron had entered deep +into the soul of her niece, and that her deeds would be satisfactory. She +therefore finished her dinner complacently. + +Mara felt that she had obtained a test which might justly compel the +giving up of her dream of love forever. She was endowed with a simplicity +and sincerity of mind which prompted to definite actions and conclusions, +rather than to the tumultuous emotions of anger, jealousy and doubt. She +would not doubt; she would know. Either Clancy had been misrepresented or +he had not been, and he had seemed so true and frank in his words to her +that she would not condemn him on the story of a gossip. From her point of +view she concluded that if he had gone so far as to say to a Northern girl +that he would not join the South in an effort to achieve independence, +supposing such an attempt to be made, then he had passed beyond the pale +of even her secret sympathy and regard, no matter what the girl might +become to him. She scarcely even hoped that there would ever be a chance +for him to make such a choice of sides as his reputed words indicated, but +he could contemplate the possibility, and if he could even think, in such +an imagined exigency, of remaining aloof from the cause for which his and +her own father had died, then he would be dismissed from her thoughts as +utterly unworthy. + +So she believed during the unhappy hours of the afternoon which were +robbed of all power to bring rest. She determined, if it were possible, to +hear the truth from his own lips. She would subdue her heart by giving it +proof positive that he had either drifted or had been lured far away. If +this were true--and she would not be influenced by her aunt's bitter +prejudice--then it was all over between them. If once so completely +convinced that he did not love her sufficiently to give up his Northern +affiliations for her sake, her very pride would cast out her own stubborn +love. + +The opportunity to accomplish all she desired soon occurred, for later she +met him at a house where a few guests had been invited to spend the +evening. Social life had ceased to divide sharply upon the opinions held +by different persons, and the question as to what guests should be brought +together had been decided by the hostess chiefly on the ground of birth +and former associations. On this occasion when Clancy's eyes met those of +Mara, he bowed, and was about to cross the room in the hope of receiving +something like a welcome after his absence, but he was repelled at once +and chilled by her cold, slight bow, and her prompt return of attention to +the gentleman with whom she was conversing. + +Clancy was so hurt and perturbed that he was capable of but indifferent +success in his efforts to maintain conversation with others. When supper +was served he strayed into the deserted library and made a pretence of +looking at some engravings. A dear and familiar voice brought a sudden +flush to his face, but the words, "Mr. Clancy, I wish to speak with you," +were spoken so coldly that he only turned and bowed deferentially and then +offered Mara a chair. + +She paid no attention to this act, and hesitated a moment in visible +embarrassment before proceeding. + +"Miss Wallingford," he began eagerly, "I have longed and hoped--" + +She checked him by a gesture as she said, "Perhaps I would better speak +first. I have a question to ask. You need not answer it of course if you +do not wish to. I am not conventional in seeking this brief interview. +Indeed," she added a little bitterly, "my life has ceased to be +conventional in any sense, and I have chosen to conform to a few simple +verities and necessities. As you once said to me, you and I have been +friends, and, if I can trust your words, you have meant kindly by me--" + +"Miss Wallingford, can you doubt my words," he began in low, passionate +utterance, "can you doubt what I mean and have meant? You know I--" + +Her brow had darkened with anger, and she interrupted him, saying, "You +surely cannot think I have sought this interview in the expectation of +listening to such words and tones. I have come because I wish to be just, +because I will not think ill of you unless I must, because I wish you to +know where I stand immovably. If my friendship is worth anything you will +seek it by deeds, not words. I now only wish to ask if you said in effect, +while North, that if the South should again engage in a struggle for +freedom you would not help?" + +Clancy was astounded, and exclaimed, "Miss Wallingford, can you even +contemplate such a thing?" + +Her face softened as she said, "I knew that you could never have said +anything of the kind." + +How tremendous was the temptation of that moment! He saw the whole truth +instantaneously, that she was lost to him unless he came unreservedly to +her position. In that brief moment her face had become an exquisite +transparency illumined with an assurance of hope. He had an instinctive +conviction that even if he admitted that he had spoken the words, yet +would add, "Mara, I am won at last to accept your view of right and duty," +all obstacles between them would speedily melt away. + +The temptation grappled his heart with all the power of human love, and +there was an instant of hesitation that was human also, and then +conscience and manhood asserted themselves. With the dignity of conscious +victory he said gravely, "Miss Wallingford, I have ever treated your +convictions with respect even when I differed with you most. I have an +equal right to my own convictions. I should be but the shadow of a man if +I had no beliefs of my own. You misunderstand me. My first thought as you +spoke was surprise that you could even contemplate such a thing as a +renewed struggle between the North and the South." + +"Certainly I could contemplate it, sir, though I can scarcely hope for +it." + +"I trust not; and even at the loss of what I value far more than you can +ever know, I will not be false to myself nor to you. I did speak such +words, and I must confirm them now." She bowed frigidly and was turning +away when he said, "I, too, perhaps have the right to ask a question." + +She paused with averted face. "Can you not at least respect a man who is +as sincere as you are?" + +Again the vigilant Mrs. Hunter, uneasy that Mara and Clancy were not +within the range of her vision, appeared upon the scene. She glared a +moment at the young man, and Mara left the room without answering him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +A "'FABULATION" + + +It had been Mara's belief, indeed almost her hope, that if truth compelled +Clancy to admit that he had spoken the obnoxious words he would become to +her as a "heathen man and a publican." No matter how much she might +suffer, she had felt that such proof of utter lack of sympathy with her +and all the motives which should control him, would simplify her course +and render it much easier, for she had thought that her whole nature would +rise in arms against him. It would end all compunction, quench hope and +even deal a fatal blow to love itself. She would not only see it her duty +to banish him from her thoughts, but had scarcely thought it possible that +he could continue to dwell in them. + +The result had not justified her expectations, and she was baffled, +exasperated and torn by conflicting feelings. Although he had admitted the +words and confirmed them to her very face, he had not allowed himself to +be put in a position which enabled her to turn coldly and contemptuously +away. Brief as had been the interview, he had made it impossible for her +to doubt two things; first, that the Northern girl was nothing to him and +that he had not spoken the words to win her favor, for he had come back to +herself with the same love in his eyes and the same readiness to give it +expression despite her coldness and even harshness. No matter how bitterly +she condemned herself, this truth thrilled and warmed her very soul. In +the second place, however mistaken he might be, he had compelled her to +believe him to be sincere, so loyal, indeed, to his own sense of right +that not even for her sake would he yield. She could not doubt this as the +eagerness of the lover passed into the grave dignity and firmness of a +self-respecting man. Moreover, another truth had been thrust upon her +consciousness--that she was more woman than partisan. As he had stood +before her, revealing his love and constancy and at the same time +asserting his right to think and act in accordance with his own +convictions, he had appeared noble, handsome, manly; her heart +acknowledged him master, and however vigilantly she might conceal the +fact, she could not deny it to herself. + +Nevertheless, his course had simplified her action; it had decided her +that all was over between them. The case was hopeless now; for neither +could yield without becoming untrue to themselves, and there could be no +happy union in such radical diversity. The less often they met the better, +as he only made her course the harder to maintain and the separation more +painful than it had been before. + +She might hide her unhappiness, but she could not banish the resulting +despondency and flagging strength. Her aunt had half forced an explanation +of the reason why she was alone with Clancy, and, in hasty self-defence, +she admitted a resolve to know with certainty whether he had spoken the +words charged against him. When Mrs. Hunter learned that he had +acknowledged the truth of the story, she spoke of him with redoubled +bitterness, making it hard indeed for Mara to listen, for her heart took +his side almost passionately. Unintentionally Mrs. Hunter proved herself +the young man's best ally, yet Mara outwardly was compelled to acquiesce, +for she herself had proved the enormity which was to end everything. +Consistency, however, was torn to tatters one day, and she said in sudden +passion, "Aunty, never mention Mr. Clancy's name again. I demand this as +my right." + +When Mara spoke in this manner Mrs. Hunter yielded. Indeed she was not a +little perplexed over the girl who had been so passive and subservient. +She was not a profound reasoner upon any subject, nor could she understand +how one step, even though Mara had been driven to it by hard necessity, +led to many others. The girl had begun to assert her individual life, and +her nature, once awakened, was proving a strong one. Deepening and +widening experience perplexed and troubled her unguided mind, and prepared +the way for doubtful experiments. + +As before, Aun' Sheba was quick to discover that all was not well with +Mara, but believed that she, like herself, was working beyond her +strength. The old woman had a bad cold and was feeling "rudder po'ly" one +evening when her minister came to pay a pastoral visit. + +On so momentous an occasion as this, her son-in-law Kern Watson and his +wife and children were summoned; a few neighbors also dropped in as they +often did, for Aun' Sheba was better in their estimation than any +newspaper in town. Since the necessity for much baking had been removed, +she had hired out her stove in order to make more room and to enjoy the +genial fire of the hearth. So far from being embarrassed because her head +was tied up in red flannel, she had the complacent consciousness that she +was the social centre of the group, an object of sympathy and the +respected patron of all present. + +The Reverend Mr. Birdsall, the minister, treated Aun' Sheba with much +consideration; he justly regarded her as one of the "pillars of the +church," knowing well from long experience that she abounded in liberality +if not in long prayers and contentions. He was a plain, sincere, positive +man who preached what he believed to be the truth. If he was sometimes +beyond it, beneath it or away from it altogether, he was as serenely +unconscious of the fact as were his hearers. There was no agnosticism in +his congregation, for he laid down the law and the gospel in a way that +discouraged theological speculation. Nevertheless, among his followers +there were controversial spirits who never doubted that they were right, +however much they might question his ecclesiastical methods and views. To +many, freedom meant the right to have their say, and, as is often true, +those having the least weighty matter on their minds were the most ready +to volunteer opinions and advice. Aun' Sheba was a doer, not a talker, in +her church relations. If she occasionally dozed a little in her pew during +the sermon, she was always wide awake when the plate was passed around; +and if a "brother" or a "sister" were sick she found time for a visit, nor +did she go empty-handed. If it were a case of back-sliding she had a +homely way of talking sense to the delinquent that savored a little of +worldly wisdom. There were not a few who shared in her doubt whether she +was "'ligious" or not, but the Reverend Mr. Birdsall was not of these. He +would only have been too glad to have discovered more religion like hers. + +"Mis' Buggone," he said, sympathetically, after Aun' Sheba had given her +symptoms with much detail, "in you is a case whar de spirit is willin' but +de flesh is weak. You'se been a-goin' beyon' you strengt." + +"Yes, Elder, dat is de gist ob de whole business," affirmed Kern Watson. +"Moder's tromped de streets wid her big basket till she is dun beat out. +She's undertook mo'n her share an' is s'portin' too many people." + +"Kern, you means well," said Aun' Sheba with dignity, "but you mus' not +'fleet on young Missy. She am de las' one in de worl' to let a body s'port +her while she fol' her han's. She's po'ly too, jes' kase she's a workin' +harde'n me." + +Uncle Sheba hitched uneasily in his chair, feeling that the conversation +rather reflected on him, and he was conscious that old Tobe, keeper of the +"rasteran," was glaring at him. "I reckin," he said, "dat de min'ster +might offer a word ob prar an' comfort fore he go." + +"What pressin' business," asked his wife, severely, "hab you got, Unc., +dat you in sech a hurry fer de min'ster ter go? We ain't into de shank ob +de ebenin' yet, an' dar's no 'casion to talk 'bout folks goin'." + +"I dun said nothin' 'bout folks goin'," complained Uncle Sheba in an +aggrieved tone, "I was ony a suggestin' wot 'ud be 'propriate ter de +'casion _fore_ dey go." + +"Mr. Buggone is right, and prar is always 'propriate," said Mr. Birdsall +in order to preserve the serenity of the occasion. "Before this little +company breaks up we will sing a hymn and hab a word ob prar. But we mus' +use de right means in dis worl' an' conform ter de inexorable law ob de +universe. Here's de law and dar's de gospel, and dey both have dar place. +If a brick blow off a chimley it alus falls ter de groun'. Dat's one kin' +ob law. Water runs down hill, dat's much de same kin' ob law. If a man +hangs roun' a saloon an' wastes his time an' money, he's boun' to git +seedy an' ragged an' a bad name, an' his fam'ly gets po' an' mis'ble; +dat's another kin' ob law--no 'scapin' it. He's jest as sure ter run down +hill as de water. Den if we git a cut or a burn or a bruise we hab pain; +dat's anuder kin' ob law, an' we all know it's true. But dar's a heap ob +good people, Mis' Buggone, who think dey can run dis po' machine ob a body +in a way dat would wear out wrought-iron, and den pray de good Lawd ter +keep it strong and iled and right up to the top-notch ob po'r. Now dat's +against both law and gospel, for eben He who took de big contrac' ter save +the worl' said ter his disciples, 'come ye yourselves apart and rest a +while.' I reckon dat's de law and de gospel for you, Mis' Buggone, about +dis time." Nods of approval were general, and Kern Watson gave the sense +of the meeting in his hearty way. + +"'Deed it am, Elder," he said. "You'se hit de nail squar on de head. Own +up, now, moder, dat you'se neber been preached at mo' convincin'. Hi! wot +a book dat Bible am! It's got a word in season fer ebry 'casion." + +"Well," said Aun' Sheba, meditatively, "I wants ter be open ter de truf, +an' I does own up, Kern, dat de Elder puts it monstis peart an' bery +conwincin'. But," she continued argumentatively, laying the forefinger of +her left hand on the broad palm of her right, "dars gen'ly two sides to a +question. Dat's whar folks git trip up so of'n--dey sees ony one side. +I've 'served dat it's po'ful easy fer folks ter tell oder folks wat ter do +and wat not ter do. No 'fence, Elder. You been doin' you duty, but you'se +been layin' down rudder 'stended princ'ples. I know you'se got ter preach +broad an' ter lay down de truf fer de hull winyard, but I wants ter know +wat ter do wid my own little patch ob ground. Now here's me and dar's my +young Missy 'pendin' on me." + +"Dat's whar I jes' doesn't 'gree wid Aun' Sheba," put in her husband as +she paused a moment for breath. He felt that public opinion was veering +over to his side and might be employed to enforce his views. "It is all +bery well fer one ter do all dey can 'sistently fer oders, but--" + +"Mr. Buggone," remarked Aun' Sheba sternly. + +Uncle Sheba subsided, and she went on, "Dere's my young Missy dat's +pendin' on me, but she ain't pendin' in de sense ob hangin' on me," and +she paused and looked impressively at Unc. "She's usin' her two little +han's jest as hard as she know how, an' a heap too hard. Wat's mo' she's +usin' dem to good puppus. I jes' declar' to you, Elder an' frens, dat +since she took hole, de business am rollm' up an' it gettin' too big fer +both ob us. Dat's whar de shoe pinches. I ain't loss notin'. I'se made a +heap mo' by doin' fer young Missy. In dis 'fabulation, I doesn't want no +'flections on her, kase dey wouldn't be fair. Now, Kern, you'se right +smart. You'se had my 'proval eber sence you took a shine ter Sissy. Ud you +belebe it, Elder and frens, dat son-in-law ob mine offered ter s'port me +an' me do nuffin but jes' help Sissy and look arter de chil'n. But dat +ain't my way. I likes ter put my own money in my own pocket an' I likes +ter take it out agin, an' it jes' warm my heart like a hick'y fiah ter +help dat honey lam' ob mine dat I nussed. So you see, Elder, dat gen'l +preachin' am like meal. Folks has got ter take it an' make out ob it a +little hoe-cake fer dere selves. It's de same ole meal, but we's got ter +hab it in a shape dat 'plies ter our own inards, sperital and bodily." + +Again there were nods of assent and sounds of approval which old Tobe put +into words. "Aun' Sheba," he said, "you puts you'se 'pinions monst'us +peart, too. I'se an ole man an' has had my shar ob 'sperence, an' I'se +alus 'served dat de hitch come in at de 'plyin' part. Dere's a sight ob +preachin' dat soun' as true an' straight as dat de sun an' rain make de +cotton grow, but when you git down to de berry indewidooel cotton plant +dere's ofen de debil to pay in one shape or oder. Dere's a wum at de root +or a wum in de leaves, or dey's too much rain or too much sun, or de +sile's like a beef bone dat's been biled fer soup mo' dan's reasonable. +Now Aun' Sheba's de indewidooel cotton-plant we's a-'siderin', an' I doan +see how she's gwine to res' a while any mo'n I kin. Ef I shet up my +rasteran de business gwine ter drap off ter some oder rasteran." + +"But, bruder Tobe, isn't it better, even as you put it," protested the +minister, "dat Mis Buggone's business should drop off an' yours too, dan +dat you should drop off youselves? Howsumever, I see de force ob what you +both say, and we mus' try ter hit upon a golden mean. I reckon dar's a way +by which you can both keep your business and yet keep youselves from goin' +beyon' your 'bility. You are both useful citizens and supporters ob de +gospel, and I'm concerned fer your welfare, bodily as well as sperital." + +"Aun' Sheba," said her daughter, "you'se my moder an' I ought ter be de +fust one ter help ease you up. I just dun declar dat you'se got ter take +Vilet ter help you up. I kin spar her, an' I will spar her. She's strong +an' gwine on twelve, an' de babies is gitten so dat dey ain't aroun' under +my feet all de time. Vilet's spry an' kin run here an' dar an' fill de +orders. She'd ease you up right smart." + +"Now, Sissy," said her husband, who always called her by the old household +name, "dat's bery sens'ble and childlike in you to put yousef out fer +you'se muder. I'd been tinkin' 'bout Vilet, but I didn't like de suggestin +ob her leabin' you to do so much, ob de work. But go ahead, Sissy; go +ahead, Vilet, an' you'll fin' me easy goin' at meal times." + +"Come here, Vilet," said the minister. + +The girl had been sitting on the floor at Aun' Sheba's feet, listening +quietly and intelligently to all that had been said. She was tall for her +age, and had the quiet steadfastness of gaze that was characteristic of +her father. He was exceedingly fond and proud of her, for, with very +little schooling, she had learned to read and write. Even as a child she +had much of his patience and unselfishness, thus making herself very +useful at home. She looked unshrinkingly at the minister, but trembled +slightly, for she felt all eyes were upon her. + +"Vilet," began Mr. Birdsall, "you are said to be a good chile, an' I like +the sens'ble, quiet way in which you stan' up an' look me in de face. I +reckon dar ain't much foolishness in you. Your fader and moder hab shown +de right spirit, de self-denying spirit dat de Lawd will bless. Can you +say the fifth commandment, chile?" Vilet repeated it promptly. + +"Dat's right. Now your fader an' moder are honahing dar moder, an' you are +goin' to hab a chance ter honah dem an' your granma, too. You will hab +temptations in de streets ter be pert an' idle, ter stop an' talk to dis +one and ter answer back to dat one in a way you shouldn't. But if you go +along quiet an' steady, an' do what you're tole, an' be car'ful 'bout de +money an' de messages an' de orders an' so forth, you will reflect honah +on us all an' 'specially on all your folks. You understan', Vilet?" + +"Yes, sir." + +The minister put his hand on her head, and said solemnly, "You have my +blessin', Vilet." + +She ducked a little courtesy, and again squatted at the feet of Aun' +Sheba, who, much affected, was wiping her eyes with her apron, while +Sissy's emotion was audible. + +"Now, frens," resumed Mr. Birdsall, "this 'mergency of Mis Buggone's +health has been met in de right human and Scriptural spirit. Frens and +fam'ly hab gathered 'roun' de 'flicted one, an' hab paid dar respect ter +her usefulness an' value, an' hab shown her becomin' sympathy. Her own +fam'ly, as is also becomin', hab been first ter ease her up accordin', +first, to the law of primigeneshureship. I know dat dis is a long word, +but long words of'en mean a heap, an' dat's why dey are so long. Dat good +little girl, Vilet, is de oldes' granchile, an' she fulfils a great law in +helpin' her granma. Den it's accordin' to the gospel, for a loving an' +self-denyin' spirit has been shown. Mr. Watson has obeyed de great law of +matrimony. He has married _into_ dis fam'ly, an' he pulls with it an' for +it instead ob against it as we see too of'en. De Lawd's blessin' will rest +on dis fam'ly." + +"I feels greatly comforted," said Aun' Sheba. "Dis has been a bressed +season an' a out-pourin'. I mos' feels 'ligious dis ebenin'. De chilen an' +dis deah chile" (patting Vi'let's head) "warm me up betteh'n flannel an' +de fiah. Elder, you'se a good shep'd ob de flock. You'se a lookin' arter +body an' soul. You'se got de eddication to talk big words to us, an', now +we'se free, we hab a right to big words, no mattah how much dey mean. It's +po'ful comfortin' ter know we'se doin' 'cordin' to de law an' de gospel." + +"'Pears ter me," said old Tobe, "dat Uncle Sheba might hab a little law +an' gospel 'plied ter him. He am one ob de fam'ly. I'se a heap ol'er dan +he be, an' I'se up wid de sun an' I ony wish I could set when de sun sets. +'Pears like he orter tote some ob de tings ez well ez his slip ob a +grandaughter," and old Tobe's wool seemed fairly to bristle with +indignation and antipathy. + +"I've no doubt," began Mr. Birdsall, "but Mr. Buggone'll emulate--" + +"Elder," interrupted Aunt Sheba, with portentous solemnity, "dere's +bobscure 'flictions in dis worl' dat can't be 'splained, an' de 'flictions +ofen begin wen we say 'for bettah or wusser.' You'se say youself in de +pulpit dat de gret an' bressed sinner, Paul, had a thorn in de flesh an' +he couldn't git rid ob it nohow, dat he jes' bar wid it an' go 'bout his +business. Ole Tobe _am_ old, but he wasn't bawn tired. Dere's men dat's +po'ful weak in de jints ob de body, yit dat doesn't hender dem from +gittin' 'round, but wen de weak feelin' gits inter de jints ob de min' den +dey's shuah to be kinder limpsy-slimpsy an' dey ain't no help fer it. Ez I +sez afore, de 'fliction am bobscure. You see de feet an' you see de han's, +an' you tink dat dey kin go an' do like oder han's an' feet, but dey +doesn't an' dey can't. Dere ain't no backbone runnin' up troo de min' an' +wen dere ain't no backbone in de min' de pusson jest flop down yere an' +flop down dar whareber dere's a com'fo'ble place to flop. Dere's +'flictions dat we kin pray agin an' pray out'n ob, an' dere's oders we jes +got ter bar, an' we gits so kinder used to'm at las dat we'd be mo' +mis'ble ef dey wuz tooken away. We'se got to take de bittah wid de sweet, +but, tank de Lawd! de sweet 'domernate in dis yere fam'ly. Now let's hab +some praise an' prar. Vilet, honey, sing de hymn you'se moder lern you." + +And in a somewhat shrill, yet penetrating, musical voice, the girl sang: + + "I'se a-journeyin', I'se a-journeyin', + An' de way am bery long; + De road ain't known, de way ain't shown, + Yit I journeys wid a song. + +CHORUS + + "De journey, de journey, howeber rough de road, + It's a-leadin', it's a-leadin', to a hebinly abode. + + "I'se a-travelin', I'se a-travelin', + From de cradle to de grave, + De road am rough and sho' anuff, + De heart, hit mus' be brave. + + "I'se a-wondrin', I'se a-wondrin', + Wen de journey will be true; + But I goes along wid sigh an' song + An' a cheery word fer you." + +Kern Watson and his wife were gifted with those rich, mellow, African +voices made so familiar in plantation songs and hymns. In the case of +"Sissy" there was a pathetic, contralto, minor quality in her tones, and +the first time young Watson heard her sing a spell was thrown round his +fancy which led to all the rest. The same might be said of her, for when +her husband, then a stranger, poured forth, in one of their evening +meetings, the great rich volume of his voice, she ceased to sing that she +might listen with avidity. It was not long after that before Kern mustered +courage to ask "Miss Buggone, mout I hab de pleasure ob 'companyin' you +home?" Not many months elapsed before he accompanied her home to stay, +with Aun' Sheba's full consent. + +Other hymns followed in which Uncle Sheba took part with much unction, for +he wished to impress all present that in spite of the "bobscure +affliction" he "injied 'ligion" as much as any of them. Mr. Birdsall +offered a characteristic prayer, and then Aun' Sheba nodded to Sissy, who +brought out a large supply of cakes and apples. Some gossip among the +women and political discussion among the men occurred while these were +being disposed of, and then the little company broke up, leaving Aun' +Sheba much improved in health and spirits. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +CAPTAIN BODINE + + +The next day was warm and sunny, and Aun' Sheba, rising much refreshed, +felt herself equal to her duties in spite of her fears to the contrary. +She took Vilet with her to a shop, and there purchased a much smaller +basket, the weight of which when filled would not be burdensome to the +girl. Thus equipped she appeared before Mara at the usual hour with her +grandchild, and began complacently: "Now, honey lam', you'se gwine to hab +two strings to you'se bow. I sometimes feel ole an' stiff in my jints an' +my heft is kinder agin me in trompin'. Here's my granddaughter, an' she's +spry as a cricket. She kin run yere an' dar wid de orders'n less dan no +time, so you won't be kept kin' ob scruged back an' down kase I'se slow +an' hebby. You see?" + +"Yes, Aun' Sheba, and I am very glad to see. I have been worrying about +you, for it has seemed to me that you were going beyond your strength, and +yet I did not know of any one to help you or whether you wanted any one." + +"Now, honey, you jes' took de words out'n my mouth 'bout you. You'se +lookin' po'ly, an' I'se dreffle 'feared you'se gwine ter get beat ont. You +want help mo'n me, an' I'se had it on my min' ter talk wid you." + +"Oh, Aun' Sheba, I'm very well," protested Mara, yet glad to think that +her paleness and languor were ascribed to fatigue. + +"Now see yere, honey, I'se got my blin' side, I know, but it ain't toward +you. I watch ober you too many yeahs not to know wen you po'ly. You'se +gwine beyon' you strengt, too. Why can't you get some one ter he'p you an' +den we go along swimmin'?" + +"Well, I'll see. I reckon I'll be better soon, and I don't care to do more +than can be done in a quiet way." + +The new arrangement on Aun' Sheba's side of the "pana'ship" soon began to +work well. Vilet proved quick and trustworthy, saving her grandmother many +a weary step, and Mara was compelled to see that the mutual income might +be greatly increased if she also had efficient help. She recognized the +truth that she was becoming worn, and she also knew the cause to be that +she worked without the spring of hopefulness or even the quietness of a +heart at rest. She had almost decided to intrust Aun' Sheba with the task +of finding a suitable helper, when she made two acquaintances who were +destined to become intimately associated with her experiences. + +One afternoon she felt so lonely, desolate and hopeless that she felt she +must go out of herself. The future was taking on an aspect hard to face. +Disposed to self-sacrifice, she was wretchedly conscious that there was +nothing on which she could bestow a devotion which could sustain or +inspire. There was no future to look forward to, no cause to be furthered, +no goal to be reached by brave, patient effort. If she had lived at the +time of the war she would have loved scarcely less than her mother, but +her heart would have been almost equally divided between the cause and +those who fought and suffered for it. If her lot had been cast in the +North it would have been much the same. The same patriotic motives would +have kindled her imagination and produced the most intense loyalty in +thought and action. She was endowed with a spirit which, had she lived in +the past, might easily have led her into an effort to restore some +overthrown dynasty, and she would have so idealized even a very +questionable conspiracy as to render it worthy, in her belief, of +unstinted self-sacrifice. A girl of her character would have faced the +wild beasts of the Roman amphitheatre for the sake of her faith, or she +would have intrigued against the Spanish Inquisition although hourly +conscious that she was exposing herself to its horrors. It was this very +tendency to give herself up wholly to some object which she felt had a +supreme claim upon her, that had enabled her to live so long upon the +memories of the past. The lost cause, for which her father had died, had +been as sacred to her as the old dream of freedom to a Pole, but Clancy's +question in regard to the old phase of her life, "What good will it do?" +combining with other circumstances, had awakened her to the futility of +her course. Denied the hope of any future achievement, lacking a powerful +motive to sacrifice herself and her love, her strong nature chafed and +tended to despondency at the thought of a simple existence. It was not +enough merely to earn a living and live. She craved an inspiring object, +an antidote for her heartache, a consciousness that in giving up much she +also accomplished much. Yet the future stretched away like an arid plain +and she was depressed by the foreboding that every step carried her +further from all that could give zest to life. She was, therefore, in a +mood to accept anything which would relieve the dreary monotony. + +On the afternoon in question she decided to call upon an old lady who had +lost nearly all her kindred and property. "Surely," thought the girl, "she +has nothing to look forward to in this world but a few more straitened +years, then death. I wish I were as old as she." + +Taking a little delicacy she started out to pay the visit, hoping to gain +an insight into the philosophy of patient endurance. She veiled herself +heavily, for she was ever haunted by the fear of meeting Clancy on the +street, and that her tell-tale face might lead him to guess the cost of +her effort to avoid him. + +An old colored woman showed the way into the parlor while she went up to +prepare her mistress for the call. Reading by the window was a middle-aged +gentleman who bowed gravely and resumed his book. + +He riveted Mara's attention instantly, for her first glance revealed that +he had lost his right leg and that crutches leaned against the arm of his +chair. He could not be other than a veteran of the Confederate army, as it +would be strange indeed to find an ex-soldier of the North in that abode. +His strong, finely-cut side face, distinctly outlined against the light, +was toward her. It was marked by deep lines as if the man had suffered and +had passed through memorable experiences. He wore no beard or whiskers, +but an iron-gray mustache gave a distinguished cast to a visage whose +habitual expression was rather cold and haughty. + +Mara had time to note these characteristics before she was summoned to +Mrs. Bodine's apartment. Although the day was mild, the old lady, wrapped +in shawls, sat by an open fire, and her wrinkled face lighted up with +pleasure as the girl came toward her. Indeed, there was something like +excitement in her manner as she kissed her guest and said: "Bring your +chair close, my dear, so I can see you and hold your hand. I've something +to tell you which I reckon will interest you almost as much as it does +me." + +When Mara was seated in a low chair she resumed: "How much you would look +like your father, child, if your eyes were bright and laughing instead of +being so large and sad! Well, well, there has been enough to make all our +eyes sad, and you, poor child, have had more than enough. Yet you are good +and brave, my dear. So far from sitting down in helpless grieving, you are +taking care of yourself and have time to think of an old woman like me. +Poor Mrs. Hunter! what would she do without you? She, like so many of us, +has been blighted and stranded, and she would have been worse off than I +if it had not been for you, for I have a little left, but oh, it is so +little. Never did I wish it were more so much as I do now. You must be +patient with me, child. I sit here so much alone that it is a godsend to +have some one to talk to, and you are the very one I wanted to see. I was +going to send for you, for I knew you would like to see my guests. My +cousin and his daughter are visiting me, and I wish they could stay with +me always. I knew you would like to meet Captain Bodine--" + +"Captain Bodine!" exclaimed Mara, "why, that is the name of an officer who +used to be in my father's regiment." + +"He is the very same, my dear." + +"Was that he in the parlor?" Mara asked, trembling with excitement. + +"Yes, he and his daughter arrived only yesterday." + +"Oh!" said Mara, "I've received letters from him, and I've longed to see +him for years. Can I not go down and speak to him at once? I surely do not +need any introduction to the old friend of my father." + +"No, my dear, no indeed. You need no formal introduction to any guest or +relative of mine. Besides, he knows you well and all about you, although +he has never seen you since you were a child. It would please him greatly +to have you go down and speak to him at once, for he would know that I +would tell you about his being here, and he might think you cold or formal +if you delayed seeing him. I'm glad you feel so, my dear, but you must +come back and sit with me awhile before you go home. I'll ring for Hannah +and have a nice little feast while you are downstairs." + +Mara scrupulously veiled her impatience until her kind, garrulous friend +was through, and then stole with swift, noiseless tread to the parlor +below. Standing in the doorway, she saw that the object of her quest was +absorbed in his book. "He is my ideal of the soldier of that day," she +thought. "How truly he represents us, with his sad, proud face and +mutilated body!" In a sort of awe she hesitated a moment and then said +timidly, "Captain Bodine." + +He looked up quickly, and seeing Mara's lustrous eyes and flushed face, +divined instantly who she was. + +"Is not this Miss Wallingford?" he asked, his face expressing glad +anticipation as he began to gather up his crutches. + +"Do not rise," cried Mara, coming forward instantly with outstretched +hands. + +But he was on his crutches, and said feelingly, "Heaven forbid that I +should receive the daughter of my old friend with so little respect." He +took the girl's face into his hands, and looked earnestly into her eyes. +"Yes," he resumed gently, "you are Sidney Wallingford's child. God bless +you, my dear," and he kissed her lightly on the forehead. "You won't mind +this from an old comrade of your father," he said as he made her take his +chair and sat down near her. "We have been bereft of so much that what +remains has become very precious. I know all about you, Mara." + +Tears were in the girl's eyes as she replied falteringly, "And I know of +you, sir, and have longed to meet you. You can scarcely know how much your +words mean to me when you say you were my father's comrade and friend. I +knew this, but it seems more real to me now, and I feel that seeing you is +coming as near as I can to seeing him." + +"My poor child! Would to God that he had lived, for you would have been +his pride and solace, as my daughter is to me. When I saw you last you +were a little black-eyed girl and happily did not understand your loss, +although you looked as if you did. I never thought so many years would +pass before I saw you again, but we have had to fight some of our hardest +battles since the war," and he sighed deeply. + +"How soon can I meet your daughter?" Mara asked, her eyes full of +sympathy. + +"Very soon. I urged her to take a walk on the Battery, for she has not +been very well of late. I said I knew all about you, as I have been told +of your loyalty and brave efforts and your kindness to my aged cousin, but +now that I see you, I feel that I know very little. Your face is full of +stories, my dear child. You are young, and yet you look as if the memories +of the past had made you far older than your years warrant That is the +trouble with us. We have much more to look back upon than to look forward +to. Yet it should not be so with you." + +"It can scarcely be otherwise," Mara answered sadly; "you have touched the +very core of our trouble, and I suppose it is the trouble with us all who +are so closely linked with the past--we have so little to look forward to. +But now that you can tell me about my father the past seems so near and +real that I do not wish to think about anything else." + +Time sped rapidly as Captain Bodine recalled the scenes and incidents of +his life which were associated with his old commander, and Mara listened +with an absorbed, tearful interest which touched him deeply. The proud, +reserved expression of his face had passed away utterly, and the girl +appreciated the change. His sympathy, the gentleness of his tones and the +profound respect which was blended with his paternal manner made her feel +that her father's friend was already her friend in a very near and sacred +sense. While he was reserved about his own affairs, and she also was +conscious of a secret of which she could never speak, they had so much in +common that she felt that they could talk for hours. But the old lady in +the apartment above grew impatient, and at last Hannah stood courtesying +in the door as she said, "Missus p'sent her compl'ments an' say would be +glad to see you." + +"There, I've been selfish and thoughtless," said Captain Bodine, "but I +shall see you again, for it will give Ella and me great pleasure to call +upon you." + +"Yes, indeed, we must meet often," Mara added earnestly. "I hope you are +going to make a long stay in Charleston." + +"I scarcely know," he replied, and again there was an involuntary sigh; +"but I must keep you no longer." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"ALL GIRLS TOGETHER" + + +"I'm not going to lose my visit altogether," said Mrs. Bodine, when Mara +returned with an apology. "If the captain has only one leg, he can get out +and around better than I can. Indeed it is wonderful how he does get +around. He is the spryest man on crutches I ever saw, and you know, my +dear, I've seen a good many. In that dreadful war we were only too glad to +get our men back, what was left of them, and if an arm or a leg were +missing we welcomed them all the more, but we couldn't give much more than +a welcome. It was wreck and ruin on every side. If we had our own the +captain would be well off, as you and I would be, but he is poor; poorer +than most of us. In fact, he hasn't anything. He wasn't one of those +supple jointed men who could conform to the times, and he wasn't brought +up to make his living by thrifty ways. But he did his best, poor boy, he +did his best. Would you like to hear more about him?" + +"Yes, indeed," Mara replied, "you can't know how deeply I am interested in +him and his daughter. He was my father's comrade in arms, his friend and +follower. You must pardon me for staying away so long, but when he began +talking of my father I felt as if I could listen forever, you know. I +honor him all the more because he is poor." + +"Yes, my dear, I know. Most of us are learning the hard lessons of +poverty. I call him a boy because it seems only the other day he was a boy +and a handsome one, too. He used to visit us here, and was so full of fun +and frolic! But he has had enough to sober him, poor fellow. He was +scarcely more than a boy when the war began, but he was among the first to +enlist, and, like your father, he was a private soldier at first. He soon +received a commission in the same regiment of which your father became +colonel, and no doubt would have reached a much higher rank if he had not +lost his leg. He met with this loss before your brave father was killed, +but I suppose he told you." + +"Yes," faltered Mara, "he told me why he was not with my father at the +last." + +"Yes, if he could he would have been with him and died with him, and +sometimes I almost think he wishes that such had been his fate, he has +suffered so much. During the remainder of the war he had command of inland +positions which did not require marching, and he always made the record of +a brave, high-minded officer. After the war he married a lovely girl, and +tried to keep the old plantation: but his capital was gone, taxes were +high, the negroes wouldn't work, and I suppose he and his wife didn't know +how to practice close economy, and so the place had to be sold. It didn't +bring enough to pay the mortgages. It cut him to the quick to part with +the old plantation on which the family had lived for generations, but far +worse was soon to follow, for his wife died, and that nearly broke his +heart. Since that time he has lived in Georgia with his only child, Ella, +getting such occupation as he could--office work of various kinds, but I +suppose his reserved, gloomy ways rendered him unpopular; and even our own +people, when it comes to business, prefer an active man who has a ready +word for every one. I conjecture much of this, for he is not inclined to +talk about himself. Poor as I am, I'm glad they accepted my invitation, +and I mean to do all in my power to get him employment here. I have a +little influence yet with some people, and perhaps a place can be found or +made for him. He and his daughter don't require very much, and God knows +I'd share my last crust with them, and," she concluded with a little +apologetic laugh, "it _is_ almost like sharing a crust." + +"Oh, he will get employment," cried Mara, enthusiastically; "his disabled +condition in itself will plead eloquently for him. How old is Ella?" + +"She must be eighteen or thereabout." + +"I wonder if she wouldn't like to help me?" + +"Help you? She'd be delighted. But then, my dear, you must not be carried +away by your generous feeling. We're all proud of you because you have +struck out so bravely for yourself; but surely you have burdens enough +already." + +"Perhaps Ella can lighten my burden, and I hers; but it is very homely, +humble work." + +"You dear child!" exclaimed Mrs. Bodine, with her little chirruping laugh, +"you are not a very homely, humble doer of the work. I reckon there's no +prouder girl in town. But that's the way it is with the captain and all of +us, in fact. The poorer we are, the prouder we are. Well, well, our pride +is about all we can keep in these times. You need have no fear, however, +that Ella will hesitate in helping you, except as she may very naturally +think herself incompetent, or that you are wronging yourself in trying to +help her." + +"We'll see about it," Mara remarked thoughtfully; "I will invite her to +spend a morning with me, and then she can obtain a practical idea of my +work. She might not like it at all, or she might like to do something else +much better, and so would be embarrassed if I asked her to help me, +disliking to refuse, and yet wishing to do so." + +"Ah, well," said Mrs. Bodine, smiling; "we have some right to think +ourselves 'quality' still, as old Hannah calls us. We are just as +considerate of one another's feelings as if we were all Royal Highnesses. +Have it your own way, my dear, if you truly think Ella can be of service +to you. I reckon you need help, for you don't look as well as when I saw +you last." + +"Yes," acquiesced Mara, "I think I do need help. Aun' Sheba's +granddaughter is assisting her, and a good deal more could be sold if it +were properly prepared. It would be a great happiness if my need opened +the way for Ella, for I feel it would please my father as much as it would +please me if I could be of service to his old friend and his daughter." + +"I have heard, dear, that you are always trying to do what you thought +your father and mother would like." + +"God forbid I should do otherwise," said the girl solemnly. + +"Well, perhaps they know all about it," said the old lady, wiping a tear +from her eye. "How close our troubles bring us together. You are lonely +for your parents, and I am lonely for my husband and children." + +"And yet you are braver and more cheerful than I," responded Mara; "I was +so sad and discouraged over the future this afternoon, that I came to you, +thinking that you might unconsciously teach me patience and courage. Truly +I was guided, for you face everything like a soldier. Then in meeting +Captain Bodine, I seem to have been brought nearer my father than ever +before. I can't hear about him without tears, yet I would turn from any +pleasure in the world to hear about him. What happiness if he had lived +and I could help him in some way!" + +"Well, my dear, we all have our own way of bearing our burdens, and I +often wonder whether I have done more laughing or crying in my life. It +has been one or the other most of the time. I have always thanked the Lord +that when the pain or the trouble was not too severe, I could laugh, and +soon I know all tears will be wiped away. It's harder for you, my dear; it +is harder for you than me. My voyage has been long and stormy; husband, +sons, and the cause for which they died all lost; but I'm coming into the +harbor. You've got your voyage before you. But take courage. Who knows but +that your early days may be your darkest days? They can't always be dark +when you are so ready to brighten the lives of others. There, I hear +Ella's voice." + +A moment later there was a knock at the door, and Ella Bodine entered. We +have all seen bright-hued flowers growing in shaded places, and among +cold, grim rocks. Such brightness had the young girl who now appears upon +the scene of our story. One speedily felt that its cause was not in +externals, but that it resulted from inherent qualities. As with Mara, +there had been much in her young life sad and hard to endure. She had not +surmounted her trouble by shallowness of soul or callousness, but rather +by a spiritual buoyancy which kept her above the dark waves, and enabled +her to enjoy all the sunshine vouchsafed. Yet, unlike her father and Mara, +she lived keenly in the present. She sympathized truly and honestly with +her father, and in a large measure intelligently recognized the nature of +the deep shadows projected across his life from the past, but it was her +disposition to keep as near to him as possible and yet remain just beyond +the shadows. She possessed a wholesome common-sense which taught her that +the shadows were not hers and that they were not good for her father; so +she was ever making inroads upon them, beguiling him into a smile, +surprising him into a laugh--in brief, preventing the shadows from +deepening into that gloom which is dangerous to bodily and spiritual +health. She made his small earnings go a great way, and banished from his +life the sordidness of poverty. God outlines an angel in many a woman's +heart, and often privations and sorrow, more surely than luxury, fill out +the divine sketch. In the instance of Ella Bodine the angelic was so +sweetly and inextricably interwoven with all that was human that to mortal +comprehension she was better than a wilderness of conventional angels. She +was depressed now under one of the few forms of adversity that could cast +her down. Her father was out of employment, their slender income had +ceased, and they were dependent. She felt this cruel position all the more +because Mrs. Bodine out of her poverty gave her hospitality so unstintedly +and ungrudgingly. + +To the sensitive, fine-natured girl it was like feeding upon the life of +another, and that other a generous friend. + +During her walk a score of schemes to earn money had presented themselves +to her inexperienced mind, but her hands had learned only how to eke out a +small salary and to minister to her father. She had come home resolute to +do something, but troubled because she knew not what to do. + +She paused a moment on the threshold of Mrs. Bodine's apartment, and +looked questioningly at Mara, at the same time half divining who she was. + +"Come along, Ella," cried Mrs. Bodine, with a little joyous laugh of +anticipation, "and kiss one of your best friends, although you never saw +her before." + +"Is it Mara?" + +Mara's smile and swift approach answered her question. In an instant the +two girls were in each other's arms, their warm Southern hearts touched by +the electric fire of sympathy and mutual understanding. Mrs. Bodine +clapped her little, thin hands and cried, "Oh, that's fine. Southern girls +have not died out yet. Why, even my old withered heart had one of the most +delicious thrills it ever experienced. Now, my dears, come and sit beside +me and get acquainted." + +"Oh, I know you already, Mara Wallingford," said Ella with sparkling eyes. + +"And I am learning to know you, Ella. I know you already well enough to +love you." + +"Well," exclaimed Mrs. Bodine, raising her hands in a comic gesture, "I +reckon the ice is broken between you." + +They all laughed at this sally, and Mara was so cheered, her nerves all +tingling with excitement, that she could scarcely believe herself to be +the half-despairing girl of a few hours before. "Now come," resumed Mrs. +Bodine, "let us all be girls together and have a good talk. At this rate +I'll soon be younger than either of you. I haven't had my share yet. Do +you believe it, Ella? Mara has been downstairs petting your father for an +hour." + +"I wonder where he is. He wasn't in the parlor when I came in." + +"I reckon he followed your good example and went out for a walk. I heard +the door shut. Well, you girls make a picture that it does my old eyes +good to look at. Here's Mara with her creamy white skin and eyes as +lustrous now as our Southern skies when full of stars, but sometimes, oh +so sad and dark. Dear child, I wish I could take the gloom all out of +them, for then I could think your heart was light. But I know how it is; I +know. Your mother gave you her sad heart when she gave you life, but you +have your father's strength and courage, my dear, and you will never give +up. And here is Ella with complexion of roses and snow and eyes like +violets with the morning dew still on them--forgive an old woman's flowery +speech, for that's the way we used to talk when I was young--yes, here is +Ella, a little peach blossom, yet brimming over with the wish to become a +big, luscious peach. Lor, Lor--oh, fie! Am I saying naughty words? But +then, my dears, you know my husband was a naval officer, and no man ever +swore more piously than he. Bad words never sounded bad to me when he +spoke them--he was such a good Christian! and he always treated me as he +expected to be treated when he was on deck. I reckon that I and the +Commodore are the only ones that ever ordered _him_ around," and the old +lady cried and laughed at the same time, while the faces of her young +companions were like flowers brightened by the sun while still wet with +dew. + +"Let me see," continued the old lady, "where was I when I began to swear a +little; just a little, you know. It is a sort of tribute to my husband, +and so can't be very wicked. Oh, I remember, I was thinking what fun it +would have been to chaperon you two girls at one of our grand balls in the +good old times. I would sail around like a great ship of the line, +convoying two of the trimmest little crafts that ever floated, and all the +pirates, I mean gallant young men, my dears, would hover near, dying to +cut you out right under my guns, or nose, as land-lubbers would say. Well, +well, either of you could lead a score of them a chase before you signed +articles of unconditional surrender," and Mrs. Bodine leaned back in her +chair and laughed in her silvery little birdlike twitter. The girls +laughed with her, pleased in spite of themselves with visions that, both +in their nature and by tradition, accorded with the young romantic period +of life. But memory speedily began to restore gravity to Mara's face. Mrs. +Bodine recognized this, and her own face grew gentle and sorrowful. Laying +a hand on each of the girls heads she resumed, "Do not think I am a +frivolous old woman because I run on so. I do not forget the present any +more than Mara, I see, cannot. Dear children, the circumstances of your +lot render you as burdened and, in some ways, almost as old as I am. Ella +can forget easier than you, Mara, but that is because God has put +brightness into her heart. Let us all face the truth together. I am long +past being an elegant matron. I am only a poor old childless widow with +but a few more days of feebleness and suffering before me, yet I do not +sigh in a bitter, murmuring spirit. Old as I am, I am still God's little +child, and sometimes I think this truth makes me as mirthful as a child. +When the pain is hardest to bear, when the past, oh, the past--with all +its immeasurable losses, begins to crush my very soul, I turn my dim eyes +upward and repeat to myself, 'There _is_ a Heaven of eternal rest and +joy,' and so I grow serene in my waiting. I have always loved the bright, +pleasant things of this world--it was my nature to do so--but He who bears +the burdens and heartbreak of the whole world has gently lifted my love up +to Him. Didn't He have compassion on the widow of Nain, and say to her, +'Weep not'? My gallant husband, my brave boys and this poor little widow +are all in His hands, and I try to obey His gentle command not to weep +except sometimes when I can't help it and He knows I can't." + +The two girls with their heads in her lap were crying softly from +sympathy. With light, caressing touches to each the old lady continued, +"Ella, my dear, you are like me in some respects. You, too, love the +bright pleasant things of this world, and you are so divinely blessed with +a buoyancy of heart that you will make what is hard and humdrum bright for +yourself and others. You will embroider life with sunshine if there is any +sunshine at all. Like myself, you will be able to smile and laugh whenever +the pain is not too severe, yet I fear it will be very hard sometimes. +Bat, as my husband would say, you are taut, trim and well ballasted, and +good for a long, safe voyage. You have obeyed the Fifth Commandment, and +its promise is yours. + +"Mara, dear child my heart, for some reason, aches for you. I knew and +loved your grandfather and your father and mother. You were born into a +heritage of bitterness and sorrow, and I fear Mrs. Hunter, with all her +good qualities, was not so constituted as to be able to counteract +inherited tendencies. I wish I could have brought you up, for then we +could have cried or laughed together over what happened. + +"But you have learned to repress and to brood--two dangerous habits. You +want to do some great thing, and alas! there is seldom a great thing which +we poor women can do. You are not impelled by ambition or a desire for +notoriety, but by a sort of passion for self-sacrifice. + +"If you had lived twenty odd years ago no soldier of the South could have +been braver or more devoted. You are not satisfied with mere living and +making the best of life as it is. I don't know why, but I feel that there +are depths in your heart which no one understands. Be careful, dear child, +and be patient. Don't yield to some morbid idea of duty, or be involved in +some chimerical plan of an achievement. + +"Learn Ella's philosophy, and be as content with sunshine and daily duty +as possible. Ella will do this unconsciously, my dear; you will have to do +it consciously, just as a sick man seeks health. But you will both have to +go forward and meet woman's lot. I was once a young girl, fancy free, like +you. How much has happened since! I now feel like an old hen that would +like to gather you both under her wing in shelter from all trouble," and +again her little laugh chimed out while she wiped away the tears which +sprang from her motherly heart. + +The thump of Captain Bodine's crutches was heard on the stair. "Bring him +in," said Mrs. Bodine, mopping her eyes vigorously. + +Ella ran to the door and admitted him, and then, with a pretty custom she +had, took away a crutch, and substituting one of her own round shoulders +supported him to a large armchair. The low western sun flooded the room +with light. He looked questioningly at the dewy eyes of the two girls and +at the evidences of emotion which Mrs. Bodine had not been fully able to +remove. + +"Well," said he, "what part am I to have in this mournful occasion?" + +Ella stood beside him with her arm about his neck, and was about to speak, +when Mrs. Bodine said quickly in her piquant way, "You are to be chief +mourner." + +"A role for which I am peculiarly fitted," he replied sadly, not catching +her humor. + +"Oh, papa, you don't understand," cried Ella, "we have been having just a +heavenly time." + +He looked at Mara as she stood beside the old lady, and his very soul was +touched by the sympathy expressed for him in her beautiful eyes. Standing +there, enveloped in sunshine, it seemed to him that no angel of God could +regard him more kindly. It was not pity, but rather honor, affection and +that deep commiseration of which but few women are capable. He felt +instinctively that she knew all and that her woman's heart was suffering +vicariously with him and for him. The very air was electrical with deep +human feeling, and he, yielding to a strong impulse scarcely understood, +said earnestly, "God bless you, Mara Wallingford." + +Sensible old Mrs. Bodine felt that it was time to come back to every-day +life, so she said promptly, "Yes, and He is going to bless her, and bless +us all. If there is any mourning to be done on this occasion you must do +it. We three girls have been having a good talk, and are the better for +it. That's the demmed total--oh, fie! there I am at it again. Well, Cousin +Hugh, to take you into our entire confidence, we have been facing things +and have arrived at several conclusions, one of which is--now, Ella, shut +your ears--that you have one of the best daughters in the world, and that +she and Mara have quite broken the ice between them and are going to be +very good friends, and I was saying how I would like to convoy two such +girls in one of our ballrooms in the good old times--oh, well, we have +just been having a long lingo as girls will when they get together." + +Captain Bodine was gifted with tact and a quick appreciation. He +understood the old lady and her purpose. + +"Cousin Sophy," he said, "you are just the same as when, a boy, I used to +visit you--tears and smiles close together. Well, I believe that Heaven +comes down very near when you three girls get together." + +The old lady lay back in her chair and laughed heartily. "Oh, Ella, if you +only knew what a mischievous boy your father was once! But, there, we have +had enough of the past and the future for one day. Mara, my dear, you must +stay and banquet with us. No, no, no, I won't hear any excuse. When I once +get on quarter-deck every one must obey orders. Ella, direct Hannah to +spread the festive board. You and Mara can lend a hand, and you can put on +all we have in five minutes. To think that I should have eaten that +delicious jelly you brought, greedy old cormorant that I am!" + +A few moments later Mara supported the old lady down to the dining-room, +and, though the viands were few and meagre, the banqueters, to say the +least, were not commonplace. Mara said nothing of her plan, but Ella was +invited to spend the following morning with her. In the late lingering +twilight Captain Bodine escorted the young girl home. On the way thither +they came plump upon Owen Clancy. He glanced keenly from one to the other +as he lifted his hat. Mara's only response was a slight bow. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +TWO LITTLE BAKERS + + +Mara led Captain Bodine up to their little parlor and introduced him to +Mrs. Hunter, who received him most cordially, feeling that in him she +recognized a congenial spirit. He treated her with the respect and +old-time courtesy which she said was "so truly Southern." Their feelings +and beliefs touched closely at several points, yet they were very +different in their essential characteristics. Poor Mrs. Hunter had been +limited by nature and education. She could not help being narrow in all +her views; she was scarcely less able to dismiss her intense, bitter +prejudices. She was quite incapable of reasoning herself into her mental +position; it was simply the inevitable result of her circumstances, her +lot and her own temperament. Captain Bodine was a proud man, as proud +toward himself as toward others. The cause for which he and his kindred +had suffered and lost so much had been sacred, and therefore it ever would +be sacred. To change his views, to begin revising his opinions, would be +to stultify himself and to reflect dishonor on his comrades in arms who +had perished. In the very depths of his young, ardent spirit he had once +devoted himself to the South; he had listened reverently to prayers from +the pulpit that God would bless the Southern armies; he had never entered +into battle without petitions to Heaven, not that he might escape, but +that the "Northern invader" might be overcome; his uniform had been +stained with blood again and again as he held dying comrades in his arms +and spoke words of cheer. In his more limited way, he had the spirit of +"Stonewall" Jackson. It was impossible for a man with his nature and with +his memories to argue the whole matter over coolly and recognize +misleading errors. During his youth and early manhood his feelings had +been so intense as to be volcanic, and that feeling, like lava, had cooled +of into its present unchangeable forms and sombre hues. What was +bitterness and almost spite in Mrs. Hunter was a deep, abiding sorrow in +his heart, a great dream unfulfilled, a cause lofty because so idealized, +in support of which he often saw in fancy, when alone, spectral thousands +in gray, marching as he once had seen them in actual life. That all had +been in vain, was to him one of those mysterious providences to which he +could only bow his head in mournful resignation, in patient endurance. He +had no hate for the North, for he was broad enough in mind to recognize +that it saw the question from its own point of view, and, as a soldier, he +knew that its men had fought gallantly. But the North's side of the +question was not his side. He had been conquered in arms but not convinced +in spirit. While he had respect and even admiration for many of his old +foes, and malice toward none, he still felt that there was a bridgeless +chasm between them, and, by the instincts of his nature, he kept himself +aloof. If he could perform an act of kindness to a Northerner he would do +so unhesitatingly; then he would turn away with the impulse of an alien. +He had no ambitious schemes or hopes for the future; he had buried the +"lost cause" as he had buried his wife, with a grief that was too deep for +tears. He had come to value life only for Ella's sake, and he tried to do +his best from a soldier-like and Christian sense of duty, until he too +could join his old comrade in arms. + +Mrs. Hunter could not comprehend such a man, and he gave to her but the +casual, respectful sympathy which he thought due to a gentlewoman who had +lost much like so many other thousands in the South. After a brief call he +hobbled away on his crutches, forgetting Mrs. Hunter and, indeed, almost +everything in the deep interest excited by Mara, the daughter of his old +friend. "Would to God," he muttered, "that Sidney Wallingford could have +lived and seen that girl look at him as she looked at me to-day." + +Soon after Captain Bodine's departure, Mara pleaded fatigue and retired to +her room, promising to answer her aunt's many questions on the morrow. She +was very sad and discouraged with herself, and yet she had not the +despairing sense of the utter futility of her life which had oppressed her +when she started out in the early afternoon. + +She had become so absorbed and interested by the incidents and experiences +of her visit as to be almost happy. Just as she had attained a condition +of mind which had not blessed her for months, she must meet Owen Clancy. +With a sort of inward rage and wonder, she asked herself: "Why did my +heart flutter so? Why did every nerve in my body tingle? He is nothing to +me and never can be, yet, when he passed, a spirit from heaven could +hardly have moved me more. What is his mysterious power which I cannot +eradicate? Oh, oh, was not my life hard enough before? Must I go on, +hiding this bitter secret? fighting this hopeless and seemingly endless +fight? Well, well, thank God for this day, after all. In Ella Bodine and +her father I have found friends who will occupy my thoughts and become +incentives which I did not possess before. Dear father, my own dear, dead, +soldier father, it would please you to have me do something for your old +friend." + +The next morning was bright and sunny, and, after an early breakfast, Mara +was in the kitchen, with all the ingredients of the dainties she so +skilfully produced, spread out upon the tables. Ella had been asked to +come early; her father had escorted her to Mara's residence, and then gone +away on an errand of his own. + +The young girl was greeted with a warmth which made her at home at once, +and proved the experiences of the previous afternoon were not the result +of mood or passing sentiment. There was a depth in Mara's eyes and a +firmness about her mouth and chin which did not indicate changing and +unreasoning "moods and tenses." In the clearer, calmer thought of the +morning all her kind purposes toward Captain Bodine and Ella had been +strengthened, and she also believed more fully that by interesting herself +in them she would find the best antidote for her own trouble. + +Ella had been welcomed by Mrs. Hunter, and now, as she sat in the little +sun-lighted kitchen, there was neither past nor future to her. The present +scene, with its simple, homely details, was all absorbing. + +It meant very much to the girl, for she saw how Mara was achieving +independence, and by work, too, which housekeeping for her father enabled +her to understand better than any other. Mara's pulses were also +quickened, for she understood the eager, intelligent glances of her +friend. For a few moments, Ella, as company, felt compelled to maintain +the quiet position of spectator; then overborne, she sprang up exclaiming: +"Oh, Mara, dear, do give me an apron and let me help you. I'd have such a +jolly forenoon!" + +"Why, certainly, Ella, if it would give you pleasure." + +The article was produced, and, with a sigh of deep content, the girl tied +it around a waist by no means waspish. Then off came the little cuffs, and +up the sleeves were rolled to the shoulder. + +"Ella, what lovely arms you have! If I were a man I should be distracted +by such a pair of arms." + +"Well," remarked the girl, looking at them complacently, "they'd be strong +enough to help a man that I cared sufficiently for to marry, but I haven't +seen that man yet, and I hope his lordship will keep his distance +indefinitely--till I have more time to bother with him and his +distractions." + +"Is your time, then, so completely occupied?" + +"It isn't occupied at all, and that's the plague of it. But I reckon it +soon will be," she added with an emphatic little nod. "Papa shall learn +that I can do something more for him than cook, and your example has fired +my ambition. I'll ransack this town till I find something to do that will +bring money. Dear old Mrs. Bodine! wasn't she perfectly enchanting +yesterday? Do you think I can be content to live in idleness on her +slender means? No, indeed. I'd buy a scrubbing-brush first. Oh, isn't this +fun?" and the flour was already up to her elbows. + +"Oh, Ella, dear, I'd feel just as you do if I had a father to work for." + +"Now, Mara, don't talk so, or I'll put my floury arms right about your +neck and spoil this dough with a flood of briny tears. See, the sun is +shining and there is work to be done. Let's be jolly, and we'll have our +little weep after sundown. Oh, Mara, dear, I wish I could make you as +light-hearted as I am. I used to think it was almost wicked for me to be +so light-hearted, but I don't think so any more, for I know I've kept papa +from going down into horrid depths of gloom. And then this irrepressible +spirit of fun helps me over ever so many hard places." She sprang back +into the middle of the room, and, striking a serio-comic attitude, +continued: "Here I am in no end of trouble--for me. There is a grief +preying on my vitals that would make a poet's hair stand on end should he +attempt to portray it. Were there a lover around the corner, sighing like +a furnace, I would say to him 'Avaunt! My heart is broken, and do you +think I can bother with you?' I am at odds with fate. I am in the most +deplorable position into which any human being can sink. I have _nothing +to do_. But here is a weapon by which one girl has conquered destiny," and +she brandished the roller with which she had been pressing out the dough, +"and I, too, shall find a sword which will cut all the pesky knots of this +snarled-up old world. Then when I have achieved complete and lofty victory +and independence, as you have, dear, I may say to the lover around the +corner, 'Step this way, sir. I must consider first whether you would be +agreeable to papa, and then whether you would be agreeable to me and +then'--Oh, what a little fool I am, and so many cookies to make. Please +don't send me home. I will work now like a beaver," and her round white +arms grew tense as she rolled with a vigor that would almost flatten +brickbats. + +Mara stood at one side watching her with eyes that grew wonderfully +lustrous as was ever the case when she was pleased or excited. Then she +stole up behind Ella, and, putting her arm around her neck, looked into +her eyes as she asked, "Wouldn't you like to help me?" + +"Of course I like to help you," said Ella, turning with surprise upon her +friend. + +"Now, Ella, be frank with me. Say no if you feel no. Wouldn't you like to +help me all the time and earn money in this way?" + +A slow deep flush overspread Ella's face as she stood for a moment with +downcast eyes as if oppressed with a sense of shame. Then she said humbly: +"Forgive me, Mara. I've been very thoughtless. I didn't think you would +take my ranting as an appeal to your generous heart. Believe me, Mara, I +was not hinting to you that I might share in the little you are earning so +bravely. As if you had not burdens enough already." + +Mara never once removed her eyes from the girl's ingenuous face and +permitted her to reveal the unselfishness and sacred pride of her nature; +then she said gently and firmly: "No, Ella, I did not misunderstand you a +moment, and I want you to understand me. In one sense we have been +acquainted always, yet we have loved each other from personal knowledge +but a few short hours. We Southern girls need no apologies for our swift +intuitions, our quick, warm feelings. I had this on my mind as soon as +Mrs. Bodine told me about your being here, and I had quite set my heart +upon it as soon as I saw you. Ella, dear, I _need_ help; I have more than +I can do. There is business enough to support us both, and I had almost +concluded to ask Aim' Sheba to get me a helper. But what a delight it +would be to work with you!" + +Ella's face had been brightening as if gathering all the sunshine in the +spring sky, and she was about to speak eagerly when Mara stopped her by a +gesture. "Wait," she said, "I did not say anything of this last evening +because I was not sure you would like the work. If you do not like it, you +must be frank to tell me so. If you do enter on it you must let me manage +all in business-like ways, for I fear that you, like Aun' Sheba, will be +inclined toward very loose accounts. You must be willing to take what I +feel that you should have, and there must be no generous insubordination. +Now you have the exact truth." + +Ella's lip was quivering and her eyes were filling with gathering tears. +With a little quaver in her voice she struggled hard to give a mirthful +conclusion to the affair. "I accept the position, ma'am," she faltered, +making a courtesy, then rushed into her friend's arms and sobbed: "Oh, +Mara, Mara, you have lifted such a burden from my heart! I have had many +troubles, but somehow it seemed that I couldn't bear this one, though I +tried hard to keep the pain to myself--papa and I being dependent. And +then to have the whole trouble banished by working with you in just the +kind of work I like! Oh, Mara, darling, how can I ever thank you enough?" + +"Good Lawd, honey, hab you heerd on any ob you'se folks dyin'?" and Aun' +Sheba's awed face and ample form filled the doorway, with Vilet's +wondering little visage peeping around behind her. + +Ella sprang away, and, turning her back on the newcomers, mopped her face +vigorously with her floury apron. + +"No, Aun' Sheba," replied Mara, smiling through her tears, for Ella's +strong emotion had unsealed the fountain of her eyes, "I've only followed +your good advice and secured just the kind of help I need, the daughter of +my father's dear old friend, Captain Bodine. I reckon you remember him." + +"Well, now, de Lawd be bressed!" ejaculated Aun' Sheba, sitting down with +her great basket at her feet. "'Member him? Reckon I does. I kin jes' see +de han'-som boy as he march away wid you'se fader. An' his little Missy is +you'se helper?" and she looked curiously at Ella, who was still seeking to +gain self-control. + +The girl wheeled around with a face wonderfully stained and streaked with +flour and tears, and, ducking just such a courtesy as Vilet would have +made, said to Aun' Sheba, "Yes'm. I'm the new hand. I'm a baker by trade." + +Aun' Sheba's appreciation of humor was instantaneous, and she sat back in +her chair, which shook and groaned under her merriment. "Can't fool dis +culled pusson," she began at last. "You tink we doesn't keep up wid de +times, but we does. I'se had a bery int'restin' season wid ole Hannah, who +lib wid Mis' Bodine, bress her heart! She's quality yere on arth an' she +gwine ter be quality in Hebin. I knows a heap 'bout you an' you'se pa. I +knowd him 'fore you did. I'se seed him in de gran' ole house in Meetin' +Street a dinin' agin an' agin wid Marse Wallingford an' my deah Misse +Mary, den a bride, an' de gran' ole Major Buggone. Oh, Missy Mara, ef you +could ony seen de ole major, you'd a seen a genywine So' Car'liny +gen'l'man ob wat dey call de ole school. Reckon dey habn't any betteh +schools now. An' young Marse Sidney, dat's you'se fader, Missy, and young +Marse Hugh, dat's you'se fader, Missy Ella, dey was han'som as picters an' +dey drink toasts ter Missy Mary an' compliment her an' she'd blush like a +red rose; an' wen dey all 'bout ter march away Missy Mary kiss Marse Hugh +jes as ef he her own broder. Lor, Lor, how it all come back ter me! Ef de +Lawd don' bress de pa'na'ship twix' you two gyurls den I des dun beat." + +Regardless of flour the two little bakers stood before Aun' Sheba with +arms around each other while she indulged in reminiscences, then Ella, +dashing away the tears that were gathering again, said brusquely, "The new +hand will have to be boss if we go on this way. Aun' Sheba, we haven't got +a blessed thing ready to put in your basket." + +"Many han's make light wuck," said the old woman sententiously. "I come +yere arly dis mawnin' to gib Missy Mara a lif' kase she's been lookin' +po'ly an' I hab her on my min' anxious-like. But now, wid a larfin', +sunshiny little ting like you aroun', Missy Ella, she'll soon be as peart +as a cricket. Vilet, chile, jes wait on me an' han' me tings, an' dese two +baskets'll be filled in de quickest jiffy you eber see." + +And so it turned out. Aunt Sheba was a veteran in the field. Flour, sugar +and spices seemed to recognize her power and to come together as if she +conjured. The stove was fed like the furnace of Nebuchadnezzar, and the +girls' faces suggested peonies as the cake grew light and brown. + +Mrs. Hunter, having finished her morning duties, entered at last and +looked with doubtful, troubled eyes upon the scene. Ella and Aun' Sheba's +mirthful talk ceased, while little Vilet regarded the tall, gray-haired +woman with awe. + +"Well, times _have_ changed," said the lady, with a sort of groan. "Our +home has become little better than a bake-shop." + +"Well, Missus," replied Aun' Sheba, with the graven-image expression that +she often assumed before Mrs. Hunter, "I'se know'd of homes dat hab become +wuss dan bake-shops. Neber in my bawn days hab I heerd on an active, +prosp'rous baker starbin'. Jes' you try dis cooky right fum de stove an' +see ef it doan melt in you'se mouf." And so Aun' Sheba stopped Mrs. +Hunter's lamentations and clinched her argument. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +HONEST FOES + + +Captain Bodine's errand was characteristic of the man. He had accepted his +cousin's hospitality and sympathy most gratefully, and his quick +apprehension had gathered from some of her words that she was bent on +moving her little segment of "heaven and earth," to secure him employment. +While perfectly ready to receive any gracious benefactions from heaven, +where he justly believed that the good old lady's power centred chiefly, +he shrank from her terrestrial efforts in his behalf, knowing that they +must be made with very few exceptions among those who were straitened and +burdened already. He did not want a "place made" for him and to feel that +other Southern men were practicing a severer self-denial in order to do +so. With a grim, set look on his face as if he were going into battle, he +halted downtown to the counting-room of one of the wealthiest merchants +and shippers in the City. He knew this man only by reputation, and his +friends would regard an application for employment to Mr. Houghton, as +extraordinary as it certainly would be futile in their belief. Mr. +Houghton was quite as bitter against the South in general and Charleston +in particular as Mrs. Hunter in her enmity of all that savored of the +North; and, as human nature goes, they both had much reason, or rather +cause, for their sentiments. The experiences of many of that day were not +conducive to calm historical estimates or to "the charity that suffereth +long and is kind." Mr. Houghton was a New England man, and hated slavery +almost as intensely as it deserved to be hated. The trouble with him had +been that he did not separate the "peculiar institution" widely enough +from the men who had been taught by their fathers, mothers and ministers +to believe in it. He made no allowances for his Southern fellow-citizens, +as many of them would make none for him. With him, it was "Slave-driver"; +with them, "Abolitionist"; yet he revered and they revered the +great-hearted planter of Mount Vernon. + +When the war came at last to teach its terrible, yet essential lessons, +Mr. Houghton's eldest son was among the first to exercise the courage of +the convictions which had always been instilled into his mind. The grim +New Englander saw him depart with eyes that, although tearless, were full +of agony, also of hatred of all that threatened to cost him so much. His +worst fears were fulfilled, for his son was drowned in a night attack on +Fort Sumter, and, in his father's morbid fancy, still lay in the mud and +ooze at the bottom of Charleston harbor. + +The region gained a strange fascination for the stricken man, and he at +last resolved to live near his son's watery grave and take from the very +hands of those whom he regarded as his boy's murderers the business which +they might regard as theirs naturally. So he removed to Charleston, and +employed his capital almost as an instrument of revenge. He did not do +this ostentatiously, or in any way that would thwart his purpose or his +desire to accumulate money, but his aims had come to be very generally +recognized, and he received as much hate as he entertained. Yet his wealth +and business capacity made him a power in commercial circles, and Southern +men, who would no more admit him to their homes than they would an ogre, +dealt with him in a cool politeness that was but the counterpart of his +grim civility. + +Captain Bodine knew that Mr. Houghton employed much help in his business. +He knew that the work of many of his employes must be largely mechanical, +requiring little or no intercourse with the master, and the veteran +reasoned, "I could give him honest work, and he in return, pay me my +salary, we personally not being under the slightest social obligation to +each other. I'd rather wring money from his hard fist than take it from +the open hand of a too generous friend. I could then get bread for Ella +and myself on the simple ground of services rendered." + +He therefore entered the outer office and asked for Mr. Houghton. A clerk +said, "He is very busy, sir. Cannot I attend to your matter?" + +"I wish to see Mr. Houghton personally." + +"Will you send in your card, sir?" + +Captain Bodine took one from his pocket and wrote upon it, "I wish to see +you briefly on a personal matter." A moment later he was ushered into Mr. +Houghton's presence, who was writing rapidly at his desk. Bodine stood +still, balancing himself on his crutches while the merchant finished the +sentence. He looked at the hard wrinkled face and shock of white hair with +the same steady composure that he had often faced a battery, as yet +silent, but charged with fiery missiles. + +At last Mr. Houghton looked up with an impatient word upon his lip, but +checked it as he saw the striking figure before him. For an instant the +two men looked steadily into each other's eyes. Ever since the war, +Captain Bodine had dressed in gray, and Mr. Houghton knew instinctively +that his visitor was a Confederate veteran. Then the captain's mutilation +caught his attention, and his very manhood compelled him to rise and +stiffly offer a chair. + +"You wished to see me personally," he remarked, coldly. "I must request +you to be brief, for I rarely allow myself to be disturbed at this hour." + +"I will be brief. I merely come to ask if you have employment for a +tolerably rapid, accurate penman?" + +"Do you refer to yourself?" Mr. Houghton asked, his brow darkening. + +"I do, sir." + +"Do you think this a sufficient excuse for interrupting me at this hour?" + +"Yes, sir." + +Again there was a fixed look in each other's eyes, and Mr. Houghton, with +his large knowledge of men and affairs, became more distinctly aware that +he was not dealing with an ordinary character. He put his thought in +words, for at times he could be very blunt, and he was conscious of an +incipient antagonism to Bodine. + +"You think you are a Southern gentleman, my equal, or rather, my superior, +and entitled to my respectful consideration at any hour of the day." + +"I certainly think I am a Southern gentleman. I do not for a moment think +I am entitled to anything from you." + +"Yet you come and ask a favor with as much dignity as if you represented +the whole State of South Carolina." + +"No, sir, I represent only myself, and I have asked no favor. There are +many in your employ. I supposed your relations with them were those of +business, not of favor." + +"Well, sir," replied Mr. Houghton, coldly, "there are plenty with whom I +can enter into such relations without employing an enemy of my country." + +"Mr. Houghton, I will bring this interview to a close at once, and then +you can settle the matter in a word. Your country will never receive any +harm from me. I am one of a conquered people, and I have now no ambition +other than that of earning bread for my child and myself. You have +dealings with Southern men and ex-Confederate soldiers. You buy from them +and sell to them. I, as one of them, ask nothing more than that you should +buy my labor for what it is worth to you in dollars and cents. Regard my +labor as a bale of cotton, and the case is simple enough." + +The lava-crust over the crater of the old man's heart was breaking up, for +the interview was recalling all the associations which centred around the +death of his son. Captain Bodine evoked a strange mixture of antipathy and +interest. There was something in the man which compelled his respect, and +yet he seemed the embodiment of the spirit which the New Englander could +neither understand nor tolerate. His thought had travelled far beyond +business, and he looked at his visitor with a certain wrathful curiosity. +After a moment he said abruptly, "You fought through the war, I suppose?" + +"I fought till I was disabled, sir, but I tried to do a soldier's duty to +the close of the war." + +"Duty!" ejaculated Mr. Houghton, with an accent of indescribable +bitterness. "You would have killed my son if you had met him?" + +"Certainly, if I met him in fair fight and he did not kill me first." + +"There wasn't any fair fight at all," cried the old man passionately. "It +was an atrocious, wicked, causeless rebellion." + +The dark blood mounted to Captain Bodine's very brow, but he controlled +himself by a strong effort, and only said calmly, "That is your opinion." + +The veins fairly stood out on Mr. Houghton's flushed, usually pallid, +face. "Do you know," he almost hissed, "that my boy lies at the bottom of +your accursed harbor yonder?" + +"I did not know it, sir. I do know that the sons of Southern fathers and +the fathers themselves lie beside him." + +"But what was the use of it all? Damn the whole horrible crime! What was +the use of it all?" + +A weaker, smaller-brained man than Bodine would have retorted vehemently +in kind and left the place, but the captain was now on his mettle and +metaphorically in the field again, with the foe before him. What is more, +he respected his enemy. This Northern man did not belong to the +ex-governor Moses type. He was outspoken and sincere to the heart's core +in his convictions, and moreover that heart was bleeding in father-love, +from a wound that could never be stanched. Bodine resolved to put all +passion under his feet, to hold his ground with the coolness and tenacity +of a general in a battle, and attain his purpose without the slightest +personal compromise. His indomitable pride led him to feel that he would +rather work for this honest, implacable foe than for any man in the city, +because their relations would be so purely those of business, and to bring +him to terms now would be a triumph over which he could inwardly rejoice. + +"Mr. Houghton," he said, gravely, "we have wandered far from the topic +which I at first introduced. Your reference to your son proves that you +have a heart; your management of business certifies to a large brain. I +think our conversation has made it clear that we are both men of decided +convictions and are not afraid to express them. If you were a lesser man +than you are, I would have shrugged my shoulders contemptuously and left +your office long ago. Yet I am your equal, and you know it, although I +have scarcely a penny in the world. I am also as honest as you are, and I +would work for you all the more scrupulously because you detest me and all +that I represent. I, on the other hand, would not expect a single grain of +allowance or consideration, such as I might receive from a kindly disposed +employer. We would not compromise each other in the slightest degree by +entering into the relations of employer and employed. I would obey your +orders as a soldier has learned to obey. Apart from business we should be +strangers. I knew we were hostile in our feelings, but I had the +impression--which I trust may be confirmed--that you were not a +commonplace enemy. The only question between us is, 'Will you buy my labor +as you would any other commodity in the Charleston market?'" + +Captain Bodine's words proved his keen appreciation of character. The old +man unconsciously possessed the spirit of a soldier, and it had been +evoked by the honest, uncompromising attitude of the Southerner. His +emotion passed away. His manner became as courteous as it was cold and +impassive. "You are right, sir," he said, "we are hostile and will +probably ever remain so, but you have put things in a light which enables +me to comply with your wishes. I take you at your word, and will buy your +labor as I would any other article of value. I know enough of life to be +aware of the courtesy which occasionally exists between men whose feelings +and beliefs strongly conflict, yet I agree with you that, apart from +business, we can have little in common. When can you come?" + +"To-morrow." + +"Are you willing to leave the question of compensation open till I can +learn what your services are actually worth?" + +"I should prefer to have the question settled in that way." + +Both men arose. "Good-morning, Captain Bodine," said the merchant, bowing +slightly. "Good-morning, Mr. Houghton," and the captain halted quietly +back to Mrs. Bodine's home of faded gentility. + +Mr. Houghton sat down at his desk and leaned his head thoughtfully upon +his hand. "I wouldn't have believed that I could have done this," he +muttered. "If he had knuckled to me one iota I would have shown him the +door; if he hadn't been so crippled--if he hadn't been so downright honest +and brave--confound it! he almost made me feel both like killing him and +taking him by the hand. Oh, Herbert, my poor, lost boy, I don't wonder +that you and so many fine fellows had to die before such men were +conquered." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +FIRESIDE DRAMAS + + +Ella was so overjoyed at her prospects when all had been explained to her, +that she insisted on Mara's spending the evening at the Bodines' so that +her father might understand the whole arrangement. + +When she returned early in the afternoon, she found him, as Mara had +before, reading quietly at one of the parlor windows. He looked up with +not only glad welcome in his eyes, but also with much genuine interest, +for he was anxious to learn what further impression Mara had made upon his +daughter. The man who had accepted patient endurance as his lot, could +scarcely comprehend the profound impression made upon him by the child of +his old friend. He had made no effort to analyze his feelings, not +dreaming that there was any reason why he should do this. To his mind +circumstances and the girl herself were sufficient to account for the +deepest sympathy. Then that look with which she had regarded him on the +previous evening--he could never forget that while he lived. He therefore +regarded Ella's flushed, happy face, and said, "You seem to hesitate in +letting your experiences be known, but I reckon, from the sparkle of your +eyes, that you have had a good time." + +"Oh, papa, I have had a good time, so much more than a good time. I +hesitate because I don't know just how or where to begin--how to tell you +all the good news. Dear papa, you have had so many more troubles than I +have, and some perhaps which you think I do not share in very deeply. It +was best for us both that I did not--too deeply. But you have a trouble +now in which I do share more than you know, more than I wanted you to +know. We were here dependent on our dear old cousin who is so unselfish +that she would almost open her poor old veins for us. This was too hard +for either of us to endure very long, and I had made up my mind that I +would do something to relieve you--that if Mara could earn money I could." + +"My dear child, I appreciate your feelings, and you have understood mine, +but let me hasten to assure you that I have found a way by which I can +support you and myself also." + +"You have? So soon? Oh, that is glorious. Tell me all about it." + +"No, indeed. Not till I have your wonderful news, and learn how you +enjoyed your visit." + +"No more visiting for me, or rather perpetual visiting. Oh, papa, think +what bliss! I'm to help Mara, work with Mara every day, and have a share +in the profits." + +The captain's face grew sad and almost stern. Ella understood him +instantly, and put her hand over his mouth as he was about to speak. "Now, +papa, don't you perform the same little tragedy that I did. I know just +how you feel and what you are going to say. Mara had it in her mind the +moment she heard I was in town and--" + +"Ella," interrupted her father, firmly, "I do not often cross you, but you +must let me decide this question. Mara is capable of any degree of +self-sacrifice, of even something like a noble deception in this case. No, +this cannot be. I would protect that girl even as I would you, and you +both need protection against your own generous impulses more than all +else." + +In vain she tried to explain, and recounted minutely all that had +happened. The captain was so deeply touched that his eyes grew dim with +moisture. Again he exclaimed, "Would to God Sidney Wallingford had lived, +even though poor and crippled as I am, that he might have worshipped this +noble-hearted, generous girl. She has indeed a rare nature. She carried +out her self-sacrificing purpose well, but I understand her better than +you do, my dear. With all a woman's wit, tact, and heart she deceived you +and would deceive us all. She would smile in triumph as she denied herself +for our sakes what she most needed. But, Ella, you know we cannot let her +do this." + +The girl was staggered and in sore perplexity. Her father's view was not +pleasing to her ingenuous nature; there had been a sincerity in Mara's +words and manner which had been confirmed not only by circumstances, but +also by Aun' Sheba's hearty approval. "I shall be sorry if what you think +is true," she said, sadly. "I don't wish to be deceived, not even from +such motives as you attribute to Mara, and, of course, she could have no +others if you are right. But how can you be right? There was such a verity +about it all. Why, papa, when at first I imagined that Mara might have +thought I had been hinting in my very foolish talk that I wished what +afterward took place, I was so overwhelmed with shame that I could hardly +speak. If you had seen how she reassured me, and heard her earnest words, +declaring she needed me--oh, if that was all deception, even from the +kindest and noblest motive, I should be wounded to the heart, I could +never be sure of Mara again and scarcely of any one else. I can't think as +you do. Let us ask Cousin and see what she thinks." + +The captain was now in perplexity himself, yet he held to his first +impression. "I admit," he said, hesitatingly, "that it was not the wisest +course on Mara's part, yet often the best people, especially when young, +ardent, and a little morbid, are led by the noblest motives to do what is +unwise and scarcely right. Mara is not an ordinary girl, and cannot be +judged by common standards. Be assured, she would die rather than deceive +you to your harm, but a purpose to do you good might confuse both her +judgment and conscience, especially if it involved self-sacrifice on her +part. You must not blame me if I wish to be more thoroughly convinced. +Yes, you can ask Cousin Sophy's opinion if you wish." + +"Then come with me, papa, and state your case as strongly as you can. I'd +rather go hungry than go forward another step if you are right." + +The wise old lady, who could talk by the hour on most occasions, listened +to both sides of the question and then remarked with sphinx-like +ambiguity. "Your father, Ella, has obtained a remarkably correct idea of +Mara's character. You know I told her in your hearing that she had a +passion for self-sacrifice, and was prone to take a morbid sense of duty. +At the same time, I do not by any means say he is right in this particular +instance. Mara is coming this evening--let her satisfy you both in her own +way. I have my opinion, but would rather she would make the matter plain +to you." + +The shrewd old lady, to whom the wheels of time often seemed to move +slowly, was bent on a bit of drama at her own fireside, at the same time +believing that a word, a tone, or even a glance from the young girl +herself would have more power to banish the captain's doubts than anything +she could say. "And yet," thought Mrs. Bodine, "Mara is capable of just +this very kind of dissimulation." + +Evening in the South differs slightly from our late afternoon, and the sun +was scarcely below the horizon when Mara arrived under the escort of Mrs. +Hunter, who had also been invited. Therefore Ella in her feverish +impatience had not long to wait. + +Mrs. Bodine's simple meal was over, and after having had a fire lighted on +the parlor hearth, she had ensconced herself in a low rocking-chair in +readiness to receive her guests. There was a sort of stately cordiality in +the meeting between her and Mrs. Hunter, quiet courtesy on the part of +Captain Bodine toward all, while honest Ella could not banish a slight +constraint from her manner. Mara gradually became conscious of this and +wondered at it. She also soon observed that no reference was made to the +compact of the morning, and this perplexed her still more. + +Meanwhile, Mrs. Bodine, having all the dramatis personae about her, was +complacency embodied, and not averse to taking a part in the little play +herself. She managed at first that the conversation should be general. She +serenely indulged in reminiscences which waked others from Mrs. Hunter, +and even the captain was beguiled into half-humorous old-time anecdotes +about some one they all knew. + +"Well," ejaculated Mrs. Bodine, sighing, "that--oh, good gracious! what +was I going to say? Cousin Hugh, you can remember that my most excellent +husband accustomed me to rather strong adjectives. Well, that hardhearted +old wretch, Mr. Houghton, eventually got all the property of the poor man +we were talking about." + +"Did he?" said the captain, quietly. "Well, I reckon I'll get some of it +back again." + +"You? I'd like to know how. He'd take your head off at one bite if he +could." + +"I reckon he would; he looked so inclined this morning. I spent half an +hour alone with him this morning, and am going to work for him to-morrow." + +The general exclamations amounted to a chorus, and Mrs. Hunter, bridling, +began formally and almost severely, "Pardon me, Captain Bodine, I do not +wish to be presuming or officious, but I fear you have been absent from +the city so long that you are not aware of the general estimation in which +this Northern carpet-bagger is held." + +"I certainly have had a chance to form my own opinion of him, Mrs. Hunter, +and I reckon that he and I will not be any better friends than he and you +would be." + +"Friends," ejaculated the old lady, "I could annihilate him. Oh, Captain +Bodine, believe me, you have made a mistake. What will be left of our past +if the best and bravest of our number strike hands with these vampires of +the North?" + +"I have not struck hands with him, nor do I ever expect to." + +"Hugh, Cousin Hugh," protested Mrs. Bodine, "I don't understand this move +at all." + +"Papa," cried Ella, with her arms about his neck, "you have done this for +my sake, so do please give it up for my sake. Some other way will be +provided for us." + +"Mara, are you, too, down on me?" + +"No, sir, never; but I'll share my last crust with you if you will have +nothing to do with that man." + +"I thought so, you brave, generous girl. That was like your father, and +reminds me of a bit of experience. We were on a forced march, and the +provision train had not kept up. It was night, and we were too weary to +hunt around for a morsel. Wallingford (he was major then) came to me and +said, 'Bodine, I've a hard tack and one cup of coffee. We'll go halves,' +and so we did. He was so impolite as to take his half first. Do you know +why?" + +"I can guess," she replied with downcast brimming eyes. + +"I reckon you can--you of all others; but he didn't succeed. I turned on +him in mock severity and remarked, 'Major Wallingford, I never thought you +would try to overreach an old friend. See, you have scarcely taken over a +third of the coffee and hard tack.' He slapped me on the back and declared +he would have me arrested for insubordinate and disrespectful language. +Considering what sleepy, jaded men we were, we had a lot of fun over that +meagre banquet, but he had to yield even if he were my superior. I fear +you are inclined to go halves just like your father." + +"Well, Hugh," cried Mrs. Bodine impatiently, "even that is better than +your taking whatever this--this--I want an adjective that is not too +wicked." + +"No matter, Cousin Sophy, we'll each supply one according to our own +degree of wickedness. A Yankee would say 'darned' though, confound the +fellows, they seem to learn to fight and swear in equal degrees." + +"I won't say 'darned,'" said the old lady, almost trembling in her +irritation and excitement, for she was being treated to more of a drama +than she had bargained for. "It is a word I never heard my husband use. +Bah! all words are inadequate. I say anything is better than that you +should go to this old Houghton for what little he may choose to give you." + +"Now, I appeal to you, Mara--is this fair, four against one?" + +"But, dear Captain Bodine, you don't know how deeply we feel about this." + +"Ah, that is the charge our enemies bring against us. We _feel_, but don't +reason, they say. We have much reason to retort, 'You reason, but have no +feeling and little comprehension for those that have.' Come, I will be +serious now," and his expression became grave and firm. "Cousin Sophy, Mr. +Houghton will never give me a penny, nor would I take a gift from him even +if starving, yet I have a genuine respect for the man. Let me, as a +soldier, illustrate my course, and then I will explain more fully. Suppose +I was on a march and was hungry. On one hand were ample provisions in the +camp of the enemy; on the other a small farmhouse occupied by friends who +had already been robbed of nearly all they had. If I went to these friends +they would, as Mara has said, share their last crust. Do you not think it +would be more in accordance with the feelings of a man to make a dash at +the enemy's overflowing larder, and not only get what I needed but also +bring away something for my impoverished friends? I reckon it would. I +much prefer spoiling the Egyptians, cost me what it may. My dear child," +turning to Mara, "do you think I would take half your crust when I know +you need the whole of it? No, indeed. Then you must remember that we got +in the habit of living off the enemy during the war. To drop all this +figurative talk, let me put the matter in plain English, as I did to Mr. +Houghton this morning. We had a pretty hot action, I can tell you. There +was no compromise in word or manner on either side, but he listened to +reason, and so will you. Pick out your most blue-blooded, stanchest South +Carolinians, in the city, and they deal with Mr. Houghton. They sell to +him; they buy of him, and there it all ends. I have no cotton to sell, but +I told him to regard my labor as a bale of cotton and to buy it, if he so +wished, at what it was worth. I also told him that apart from our business +relations we would be strangers, so you see I am neither better nor worse, +practically, no different from other Charlestonians." + +Mrs. Bodine leaned back in her chair, and laughed till the tears came into +her eyes. "I do declare," she gasped: "God made men different from women, +and I reckon He knew what He was about. I surrender, Cousin Hugh. Your +argument has blown me out of the water. Spoil this old Egyptian to your +heart's content, only remember when there are no Egyptians to spoil, if +you don't come to your friends you will have one savage old woman to deal +with." + +Mrs. Hunter shook her head dubiously. "I don't know what to think of all +this," she said. "It appears to me that it tends to break down the +partition wall between us and those from whom we have received wrongs +which should never be forgiven." + +"My dear Mrs. Hunter," replied the captain, urbanely, "the more the +partition wall is broken down in one sense, the better. Isn't it wiser for +me to get money out of Mr. Houghton than to sulk and starve? I _had_ to +break through the wall to get bread. Of course," he added quietly, "we all +understand one another. My military figures of speech must not be pressed +too far. I do not propose to knock Mr. Houghton on the head, or even take +the smallest possible advantage of him. On the contrary, because we are +hostile, I shall be over-scrupulous, if possible, to do his work well. +From him, as I told him, I expect not the slightest allowance, +consideration, or kindness." + +"Oh," thought Mara, "how clearly he has put my own thought and wish. Why +could not Owen Clancy have earned his own bread and mine by taking the +course of this brave Southern man? I have been shown to-night how noble, +how dignified and how easy it was. Why should he talk of love when he will +not see what is so reasonable in the action of another?" + +"Cousin Hugh, you said one thing which needs explanation. You said you had +a respect for this man floughton, who we all know has not a particle of +good-will toward us." + +"Chiefly because he is such an honest enemy," Bodine replied. "He makes +hard bargains with our people when he can, but have you ever heard of his +cheating or doing anything underhand? I learned a good deal about his +business character while in Georgia, and his course to-day corresponded +with what I had been told. Moreover, his feelings got the better of him, +and he revealed in one passionate sentence that his eldest son was killed, +and, as he says, lies at the bottom of our harbor here. This fact enabled +me to stand better what I had to take from him," and in answer to his +cousin's questions he revealed the substance of the interview. "I do +this," he concluded, "that you and other friends may better understand my +course. To-morrow Mr. Houghton becomes my employer, and I shall owe a +certain kind of loyalty. The more seldom we mention his name thereafter, +the better; and I shall never speak of him except in terms of cold +respect." + +"Since you have told me about his son," said Mrs. Bodine, "I won't avail +myself of the privilege of freeing my mind to-night, even if it will be my +last chance, that is when you are present. After all, why should I berate +him? In one aspect he is to me a sort of ogre representing all that is +harsh, intolerant and cruel, rejoicing in his power to drain the +life-blood of a conquered and impoverished people; yet he rose before me +as you spoke as a heartbroken father, warped and made unnatural by pain, +haunted by the ghost of his son whom his arms cannot embrace. Sometimes +when thinking alone, the people of the world seem like a lot of squabbling +children, with only degrees of badness and goodness between them. Children +make no allowances for each other. It is like or dislike, quick and +manifested. It is well there is a Heavenly Father over all who may lead +one and all of us 'to make up' some day. I tell you what it is, Hugh, we +may all have to shake hands in Heaven." + +"Like enough, Cousin Sophy. In matters pertaining to Heaven you are a +better authority than I am." + +"For very good reason. Heaven is nearest those who feel its need most. You +may think I am a queer Christian, and I sometimes think so myself--hating +some people as near as I dare, and calling old Houghton a wretch. Don't I +know about his heartache? Who better than I? God knows I would give his +son back to him if I could. God knows I can almost swear at him; He knows +also that if he were brought into this house wounded I'd nurse him with my +feeble hand as I would you, Cousin Hugh, but I would be apt to say when he +got well (and here came in her little chirping laugh), 'Good sir, I have +not the slightest objection to your going back to Massachusetts, bag and +baggage.' By the way, he has another son who has not been much in +Charleston--being educated at the North, they say. He must be a grown man +now. I was told that when here last he resented the fact bitterly that +there was some society in town which he could not enter." + +"I reckon not," remarked Mrs. Hunter, grimly, and then followed some +desultory conversation between the two elder ladies. + +As was frequently his custom--in common with men whose past is more than +their future promises to be--the captain had lapsed into a train of +thought which took him far away from present surroundings. He was roused +by Mrs. Hunter's preparations for departure, and looking suddenly at Mara, +saw that her eyes were filled with tears. He was at her side instantly, +and, taking her hand, asked gently, "What troubles you, my child?" + +With bowed head she replied: "I understand you, Captain Bodine; your words +have made everything clear to me." + +He still held her hand and thought a moment. "About Ella's coming to you?" +he asked. + +"Yes, I'm not one of the Egyptians, but I'd so set my heart on it." + +"Because of _your_ need, not Ella's?" again the captain queried, while his +grasp on her hand tightened. + +"Oh, Captain Bodine, do you think I could deceive you or a girl like Ella +under any circumstances? If she did not come after to-day I feel that I +should give up in despair very soon. I do need help, and just such help to +body and mind as she can give me." + +"Forgive me, Mara. The little story I told about your father explains why +I feared. But we will say no more about it. I would rather have Ella with +you than with any one else in the world." + +"There," cried that buoyant young woman, "I knew I was right. Out of the +mouths of babes and sucklings you old people are destined to learn +wisdom." + +"Well," said Mrs. Bodine, "I've had more drama tonight than I reckoned on, +and I haven't been leading lady either. Will the chief baker escort me to +the dining-room?" + +After cake and cream, the captain escorted Mrs. Hunter and Mara home. He +detained the latter at the door a moment, and said gently, "Mara, shun the +chief danger of your life. Never be unfair to yourself." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A FAIR DUELLIST + + +The great hand of time which turns the kaleidoscope of human affairs +appeared to move slowly for a few weeks, as far as the characters of my +story are concerned. The two little bakers worked together daily, one +abounding in mirth and drollery, and the other cheered, or rather beguiled +from melancholy in spite of herself. Business grew apace, not only because +two girls who evoked general sympathy were the principals of the firm, but +also for the reason that they put something of their own dainty natures +into their wares. Aun' Sheba trudged and perspired in moderation, for the +fleet-footed Vilet seemed to outrun Mercury. Moreover, the "head-pahners," +as Aun' Sheba called them, insisted that their commercial travellers +should take the street-cars when long distances were involved. + +Captain Bodine and Mr. Houghton maintained their business relation in the +characteristic manner indicated by their first interview. The +ex-Confederate was given some routine work which kept him at a remote desk +a certain number of hours a day, and employer and employee rarely met, and +scarcely ever spoke to each other. The captain, however, had no reason to +complain of his salary, which was paid weekly, and sufficed for his modest +needs. So far from being dependent on his large-hearted cousin, he and +Ella were enabled to contribute much to her material comfort, and +immeasurably to her daily enjoyment. She and Ella were in the sunshine +again, and it was hard to say which of the two talked the most genial +nonsense. The old lady had what is termed "a sweet tooth," and loved +dainties. The two girls, therefore, vied with each other in evolving rare +and harmless delicacies. + +"Two Ariels are ministering to me," she said, "and sometimes I feel so +jolly that I would like to share with that old--I mean Mr. Houghton." + +The girls never forgot, however, the depths beneath the ripple and sparkle +of the old lady's manner. + +As spring verged into summer, Uncle Sheba yielded more and more to the +lassitude of the season. His "bobscure 'fliction" seemed to grow upon him, +if it were possible to note degrees in his malady, but Aun' Sheba said, +"'Long as he is roun' like a log an' don' bodder me I is use' ter it." He +even began to neglect the "prar-meetin'," and old Tobe told him to his +face, "You'se back-slidin' fur as you kin slide, inch or so." His +son-in-law, Kern Watson, had won such a good reputation for steadiness +that he was taken into the fire department. When off duty he was always +with "Sissy an' de chilen." + +Outwardly there was but slight change in Owen Clancy. He had never been +inclined to make many intimate acquaintances, and those who knew him best +only noted that he seemed more reserved about himself if possible, and +that he was unusually devoted to business. Yet he was much spoken of in +business circles, for it was known that he was the chief correspondent of +the wealthy Mr. Ainsley of New York, who was making large investments in +the South. Among the progressive men of the city, no matter what might be +their political faith and association, the young man was winning golden +opinions, for it was clearly recognized that he ever had the interest of +his section at heart, that in a straightforward, honorable manner he was +making every effort to enlist Northern capital in Southern enterprises. He +had withdrawn almost wholly from social life, and ladies saw him but +seldom in their drawing-rooms. When among men, however, he talked +earnestly and sagaciously on the business topics of the hour. The evening +usually found him with book in hand in his bachelor apartment. + +Beneath all this ordinary ebb and flow of daily life, changes were taking +place, old forces working silently, and new ones entering in to complicate +the problems of the future. As unobtrusively as possible, Clancy kept +himself informed about Mara and all that related to her welfare. By some +malign fate, as she deemed it, she would unexpectedly hear of him, +encounter him on the street, also, yet rarely now, meet him at some small +evening company. He would permit no open estrangement, and always +compelled her to recognize him. One evening, to her astonishment and +momentary confusion he quietly took a seat by her side and entered into +conversation, as he might have done with other ladies present. By neither +tone nor glance did he recognize any cause for estrangement between them, +and he talked so intelligently and agreeably as to compel her admiration. +His mask was perfect, and after an instant hers was equally so, yet all +the time she was as conscious of his love as of her own. + +He recognized the new element which the Bodines had brought into her life, +and with a lover's keen instinct began to surmise what the captain might +become to her. He was not long in discovering the former relations of the +veteran to Colonel Wallingford, and he justly believed that, as yet, +Mara's regard was largely the result of that old friendship and an entire +accordance in views. But he was not so sure about Bodine, whom he knew but +slightly and with whom he had no sympathy. He had learned substantially +the ground on which the captain had taken employment from Mr. Houghton, +and as we know, he was bitterly hostile to that whole line of policy. "It +would eventually turn every Southern man into a clerk," he muttered, "when +it is our patriotic duty to lead in business as in everything else that +pertains to our section." Yet he knew, or at least believed, that if he +had taken the same course Mara might now be his wife. + +Sometimes, when reading, apparently, he would throw down his book and say +aloud in his solitude, "Bah, I'm more loyal to the South than this +sombre-faced veteran. He would keep his State forever in his own crippled +condition. No crutches for the South, I say; no general clerkship to the +North, but an equal onward march, side by side, to one national destiny. +He thinks he is a martyr and may very complacently let Mara think so too. +Who has given up the more? He a leg, and I my heart's love!" + +It has already been shown that Clancy touched the extremes of political +and social life in the city. Some, of whom Mrs. Hunter was an exasperated +exponent, could be cold toward him, but they could neither ignore nor +despise him. Those beginning to cast off the fetters of enmity and +prejudice, secretly admired him and were friendly. While cordial in his +relations, therefore, with Northern people and Northern enterprises of the +right stamp, he had not so lost his hold on Mara's exclusive circle as to +remain in ignorance of what was transpiring within it, and he secretly +resolved that if Bodine sought to take the girl of his heart from him, +and, as he truly believed, from all chance of true happiness herself, he +would give as earnest a warning as ever one soul gave to another. + +In June he received a strong diversion to his thoughts. Mr. Ainsley wrote +him from New York, in effect, that he with his daughter would soon be in +Charleston--that his interests in the South had become so large as to +require personal attention; also that he had new enterprises in view. The +young man's interest and ambition were naturally kindled. As Mara had +taken the Bodines and their affairs as an antidote for her trouble, he +sought relief in the preoccupation which the Ainsleys might bring to his +mind. Accordingly he met father and daughter at the station and escorted +them to the hotel with some degree of pleasurable excitement. + +Miss Ainsley made the same impression of remarkable beauty and +cosmopolitan culture as at first. There was a refined, easy poise in her +bearing. Indeed he almost fancied that, to her mind, coming to Charleston +was a sort of condescension, she had visited so many famous cities in the +world. She greeted him cordially, and to a vain man her brilliant eyes +would have expressed more than the mere pleasure of seeing an old +acquaintance again. + +But few days elapsed before Mr. Ainsley was on the wing, here and there +where his interests called him, meantime making the Charleston hotel his +headquarters. Miss Ainsley's friend, Mrs. Willoughby, carried off the +daughter to her pretty home on the Battery, where sea-breezes tempered the +Southern sun. Clancy aided the father satisfactorily in business ways, and +the daughter found him so agreeable socially as to manifest a wish to see +him often. She interested him as a _"rara avis"_ which he felt that he +would like to understand better, and he would have been less than a man if +not fascinated by her beauty, accomplishments and intelligence. Miss +Ainsley could not fail to charm the eyes of sense as well, and she was not +chary of the secret that she had been fashioned in one of Nature's finest +molds. The soft, warm languor of the summer evenings was, to her, ample +excuse for revealing the glowing marble of her neck and bosom to dark +Southern eyes, and admirers began to gather like bees to honey ready made. + +Clancy had wished to see her deportment toward other young men, and now +had the opportunity. The result flattered him in spite of himself. To +others she was courteous, affable and sublimely indifferent. When he +approached it seemed almost as if a film passed from her eyes, that she +awakened into a fuller life and became an enchantress in her versatile +powers. He responded with as fine a courtesy as her own, although quite +different, but there was a cool, steady self-restraint in eyes and manner +which piqued and charmed her. + +Clancy would be long in learning to understand Miss Ainsley. He might +never reach the secret of her life, and certainly would not unless he +bluntly asked her to marry him--asked her so bluntly and persistently that +all the wiles of which woman is capable opened no avenue of escape. She +was an epicure of the finest type. If she had been asked to a banquet on +Mount Olympus, she would have preferred to dine from the one delicious +dish of ambrosia most to her taste and to sip only the choicest brand of +nectar. Profusion, even at a feast of the gods, would have no charms for +her. She had begun to see the world so early and had seen so much of it +that she had learned the art of elimination to perfection. Sensuous to the +last degree, but not sensual, she had a cool self-control and a fineness +of taste which led her to choose but a few refined pleasures at a time and +then to enjoy them deliberately and until satiety pointed to a new choice. +Keen of intellect, she had studied society and with almost the skill of a +naturalist had recognized the various types of men and women. This cool +observation had taught her much worldly wisdom. She saw all about her, +mere girls jaded with life already, faded young women keeping up with the +fashionable procession as fagged out soldiers drag themselves along in the +rear of a column. She had seen fresh young _debutantes_ rush into the +giddy whirl to become pallid from the excess of one season. At one time, +she and other friends of hers had been exultant, excited and distracted by +their many admirers and suitors. She soon wearied, however, of this +indiscriminate slaughter, and the devoted eager attentions, the manifest +desires and hopes of commonplace men, so far from kindling a sense of +triumph and power, almost made her ill. She became like a knight of the +olden time who had hewn down inferiors until he was sick of gore. + +And so she gradually withdrew from the fashionable rout, took time for +reading and study and the perfection of her accomplishments. She accepted +merely such invitations as were agreeable to her, smiling contemptuously +at the idea that in order to maintain position in society one must wear +herself out by rushing around to everything; and society respected her all +the more. It became a triumph to secure her presence; but she only went +where everything would accord with her taste and inclination. This was +true of her life abroad as well as at home. Conscious of her father's +wealth, and that, apart from an unexacting companionship to him, she could +do as she pleased, she proposed to make the most of life as she estimated +it. She would have all the variety she wished, but she would take it +leisurely. She would not perpetrate the folly of gulping pleasures, still +less would she permit herself to fall tumultuously in love with some +ordinary man only to waken from a romantic dream to discover how ordinary +he was. + +She was also too shrewd, indeed one may almost say too wise, to think of +an ambitious marriage. The man of millions or the man of rank or fame +could never buy her unless personally agreeable to her. Yet she was rarely +without a suitor, whom to a certain point she encouraged. Unless a man +possessed some real or fancied superiority which pleased or interested +her, she was practically inaccessible to him. She would be courtesy +itself, yet by her strong will and tact would speedily make a gentleman +understand, "You have no claim upon me; your wishes are nothing to me." If +he interested her, however, if she admired him even slightly, she would +give him what she might term a chance. Then to her mind their relations +became much like a duel; she at least would conquer him; he might subdue +her if he could; she would give him the opportunity, and if he could find +a weak place in her polished armor and pierce her heart she would yield. +The question was whether she had a heart, and she was not altogether sure +of this herself. On one thing, however, she was resolved--she would not +give up her liberty, ease and epicurean life for the duties, obligations +and probable sorrows of wifehood, unless she met a man who had the power +to make this course preferable. + +During Clancy's visit to New York in the winter, Mr. Ainsley had spoken of +him to his daughter in terms that interested her before she even saw the +young man, and the moment the experienced woman of the world (for she was +a woman of the world, though but little past her majority) looked upon him +she was still more interested, recognizing at a glance the truth that +whatever Clancy might be, he was not commonplace. This explains why he was +perplexed by the intentness and soft fire of her eyes. If the way opened, +she was inclined to give him "a chance." It might cost him dear, as it had +others, but that was his affair. She felt that he was highly honored and +distinguished in being given what she contemptuously denied to the great +majority. The way _had_ opened. She was in Charleston, and now, this +particular and lovely June evening found her on a balcony overlooking the +shining ripples of the bay, reclining in a cane chair with her head +leaning against a pillar and her eyes fixed on him with all the dangerous +fascination they possessed. Some soft, white clinging material draped her +form that was rendered more graceful than usual by her well-chosen +attitude. A spray from an ivy vine hung above her, and its slightly moving +shadow flickered on her throat and bosom. She knew she was entrancingly +beautiful; so did he. He felt that if he were an artist nothing was left +to be desired. As a man he was flattered with her preference and charmed +with her beauty. He did not and could not believe that he had more than a +passing interest in her mind as yet, and he felt that she would never be +more to him than a gifted lovely friend, who could at one and the same +time gratify his taste and bestow fine intellectual companionship. They +talked freely with lapses of silence between them. These she would +occasionally break with little snatches of song from some opera. Her +familiarity with life abroad enabled her to say much which supplemented +his reading and which interested him. So he was not averse to these +interviews and was conscious of no danger. + +To her they had an increasing pleasure. She was delighted that Clancy +thawed so deliberately, that instead of speedily verging toward sentiment +he found more pleasure in her intellectuality than in her outward beauty. +So many others to whom she had given a chance had quickly lost both their +heads and hearts, and she was beginning to rejoice in the belief that it +might require a summer's tactics to beguile him of either. His gray eyes, +which appeared dark in the moonlight, were clearly regarding her with +quiet admiration, but instead of paying a compliment he would broach some +topic so interesting in itself that before she knew it she was talking +well and even brilliantly. + +This present evening he did pay her a compliment, however, which delighted +her. She had stated her view of a subject, and he had replied, "I must +differ with you most decidedly, Miss Amsley." Then he added with a little +apologetic laugh, "I could have made such a remark to very few ladies. I +would have said, 'I beg your pardon, do not think I am contradicting you, +but possibly on further reflection--' In brief, I would have gone through +the whole conventional circumlocution. You are a woman of mind, and you +put your views so strongly and clearly that I forget everything except +your thought. Good reason why, your thought is so interesting, all the +more so because it is your view, not mine, and because I do not agree with +you. Have I made sufficient apology?" + +"You have done much more, Mr. Clancy, you have paid me the only kind of a +compliment that I enjoy. I am sick of conventionalities, and as for +ordinary compliments, I am as satiated as one would be if the entire +contents of Huyler's candy-shop had been sent to him." + +"Oh, I knew that much before I had seen you five minutes. The only +question in my mind was whether you had not been made ill mentally by them +as one would be physically by the candy." + +"In other words, whether I was a fool or not." + +"Precisely." + +"Well?" + +"No need of that rising inflection. If you were a fool I would not be +here." + +"I reckon not, as you say in the South." + +"Yet you value your beauty, Miss Ainsley." + +"Indeed I do, very highly." + +"And you know equally well that I admire it greatly, but I value your +power of companionship more. Why should not a man and woman entertain each +other without compliments, conventionalities and sentimentalities?" + +"No reason in the world if they are capable of such companionship. The +trouble with so many is that they tumble into these things, especially the +last, as if they were blind ditches in their path." + +"That is excellent. Do you regard love as a blind ditch?" + +"The deepest and worst of them all, judging from the experiences of very +many." + +"I am inclined to agree with you," he answered very quietly. + +A few moments later he rose to take his leave. She gave him her hand +without rising, and said, "Good-night. I'm not going to leave this lovely +scene till I am sleepy. Come again when you want companionship. Drop +conventionality I would like a friend who would talk to me as men of +brains talk to men of brains, without circumlocution." + +"Very well, then, I shall begin at once. You have a head that ought to +inspire an artist, but I like its furniture. I am going to read up on our +point of disagreement. If I actually prove you are wrong you must yield +like a man." + +"I will." + +The smile on her lips still lingered as she looked out upon the moonlit +waters, and she passed into a delicious revery. At last she murmured, +"Yes, he has a chance. I don't know how it will end. I may yield to his +argument, but as to yielding to him, that is another affair. The best part +of it all is that he is so slow in yielding to me. Here, in this +out-of-the-way corner of the world, is a cup that I can at least drain +slowly." + +Clancy sauntered up Meeting Street, his thoughts preoccupied with the +interview. Then half a block in advance two persons entered the +thoroughfare, and he recognized Captain Bodine and Mara. He crossed the +street so as not to meet them, and they passed in low, earnest +conversation. If Miss Ainsley had been in the furthest star, he would not +have cared. Every drop of his Southern blood was fired, and, with clinched +hands, he strode homeward, and passed a sleepless night. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A CHIVALROUS IMPULSE + + +It must be admitted that Clancy had some cause for his perturbation. +Captain Bodine was a middle-aged man, who had had deep, if not wide +experiences. He had come to regard himself as saddened and way-worn, +halting slowly down the westward slope of life, away from the exaltations +of vanished joys, and the almost despairing grief of former sorrows. + +Memory kept both in sharp outline; nevertheless they were receding, as do +hills and mountains which the traveller leaves behind him. The veteran had +believed that he had no future besides earning an honest living, and +providing for his beloved child. + +The traveller--to employ again the figure--often journeys forward in what +promises to be a monotonous road. He is not expecting anything, nor is he +looking forward to any material change. Unawares he surmounts a little +eminence, and there opens a vista which kindles his dull eyes with its +beauty, and stirs his heavy heart with the suggestion that he has not +passed by and beyond all the best things of life. + +Mara's glance of profound and intelligent sympathy had opened such a vista +to Bodine's mental vision. It had been enough then; it had been enough +since, in the main, that she was the daughter of his old and dearest +friend, and that their thoughts, beliefs and sorrows were in such complete +accord. Mara had become his daughter's closest friend, as well as +co-laborer, and so he heard of her daily, and saw her very often. All that +he saw and heard confirmed and deepened his first impressions. A +companionship, wonderfully sweet and cheering, was growing between them. +He had not yet begun to analyze this, or to recognize whither it was +tending, while not a shadow of suspicion crossed her mind. She only felt +that she had found a friend who diverted her thoughts, solaced all her +trouble, and made the past, to which she believed she belonged, more real, +more full of precious memories. The days in the main were passing quietly +and evenly for both, full of work and deeply interesting thoughts, and the +delightful reunions around the chair of the genial invalid, Mrs. Bodine, +increased in number. + +The old lady talked and acted as if she had emerged into the warmest +sunshine of prosperity, and only Ella could surpass her in blitheness of +spirit and comical speeches. They caricatured each other, every one, +everything, yet without a particle of malice. Even poor old Mrs. Hunter +sometimes had to relax her grim rigidity, and Bodine often laughed with +the hearty ring of his old campaigning days. At times Mara was beguiled +into the belief that she was happy, that her deep wound was healing. The +illusion would last for days together; then something unexpected would +occur, and the love of her heart would reveal itself in bitter out-cry +against its wrong. If she could only see Clancy in some light which her +veritable God-bestowed conscience could condemn, she believed that her +struggle would be much easier; but he always confronted her with his +earnest, steady eyes, which said, "I have as true a right to think as I +do, as you have to think differently. Not even for your sake will I be +false." Thus after days of comparative peace, the tempest would again rage +in her soul. + +Buoyant, happy Ella felt now as if she could trip on through life +indefinitely; but one summer morning she tripped into a little adventure +which brought unwonted expressions of perplexity into her fair face. She +was returning along the shady side of the street from her duties, her face +like a blush-rose from the heat, when she observed coming toward her a +young man who, from his garb and bearing, caught her eyes. Pretty Ella +knew she attracted a great deal of attention from the opposite sex when +she appeared in the street, and she was not such a demure little saint as +to let a fine, manly figure pass without her observation, but her +observance was quick, furtive, like the motion of a bird's eye that looks +you over before you are aware of the bird's presence. No staring fellow +ever met her blue eyes in the street. On the present occasion the little +maiden said to herself, "There's a style of a man I haven't seen, and he's +evidently a Northerner, too. Well, he's not bad; indeed he is the +best-looking Vandal, as Mrs. Hunter would say--Oh, merciful Heaven! that +old woman will be run over." + +Her commentary had been interrupted by an express wagon driven recklessly +around the corner. Picking her way slowly across the street was a plain, +respectable looking old woman, with a basket of parcels on her arm, and, +at the moment of Ella's cry, she was almost under the horse's feet, +paralyzed with terror. Her cry caught the young man's attention. With a +single bound, he was in the street, his right hand and arm forcing the +horse back on its haunches, while with his left he gathered up the old +woman. Then by a powerful effort he threw the horse's head and +forequarters away from him with such force that the shafts cracked. +Bearing the woman to the sidewalk, he placed her upon her feet, then went +back, picked up her parcels and placed them in her basket. Without waiting +to hear her thanks, he lifted his hat and was turning away as if all had +been a trifle, when he was confronted by the enraged expressman pouring +forth volleys of vituperation. With a chivalric impulse the girl drew +nearer the stranger, who looked the bully steadily in the eyes while he +kept his hands in his pockets. The man made a gesture as if to strike. +Instantly the young fellow's left arm was up in the most scientific +attitude of self-defence. "Don't do that, you fool," he said. "Are you too +drunk not to see that I'm strong? Clear out, or I'll have you arrested. If +you touch me, I'll knock you under the feet of your horse." + +There was something in the athlete's bearing, and the way he put up his +left arm, which brought the expressman to his senses, and he drew off +swearing about the blanked "Northerners, who acted as if they owned the +city." + +George Houghton--for we may as well give his name at once--regarded the +fellow contemptuously an instant, and again turned to pursue his way +regardless of the gathering crowd. But his attention was at once arrested +by a pair of blue eyes which were so eloquent with admiration and +approval, that he smiled and again lifted his hat. + +"You are a gentleman," Ella breathed softly, the words coming with +scarcely any volition on her part. + +A frown instantly darkened Houghton's face, and, with a slight, stiff +acknowledgment, he strode away. "Why the deuce shouldn't I be a +gentleman!" he muttered. "The very young girls of this town are taught to +look upon Northerners as boors. One has only to save an old woman from +being run over, face a blackguard, and the wondering expression is wrung +from one of the blue-blooded scions, 'You're a gentleman!' And she was +blue-blooded. A fellow with half an eye and in half a minute could see +that. And I suppose she thought that one of my ilk was no more capable of +such a deed than Toots or Uriah Heep. Bah!" + +Having thus relieved his mind, young Houghton's step soon grew slower and +slower. It was evident that a new and different train of thought had begun +in his mind. At last, with characteristic force, he communed with himself: + +"Thin-skinned fool! why didn't I look at the girl instead of thinking of +my blasted self and pride! Why, that girl's face will haunt me for many a +day, whether I ever see her again or not. I'm as bad as these Bourbons +themselves in my prejudice. Now I think of it she stood almost alone at my +side when others were keeping at a safer distance, fearing a fight. Her +look was one of simple, ingenuous approval--almost the expression of a +child, and I acted like a brute. That's the Old Harry with me, I act first +and think afterward." + +A few minutes later he was at the office, and writing rapidly at his +father's dictation. After a time Mr. Houghton said, "Take these two +letters to Bodine's desk, and tell him to make copies. Then you can go, +George. Your vacation is too new for me to take so much of your time." + +"See here, father," replied the young man, putting his hand on the old +gentleman's shoulder. "You've been here all these years working like +thunder to make money, and I've been spending it like thunder. If you're +going to keep on working, I'm going to work with you; if you'll knock off +and go on a lark with me, I'll guarantee that you'll be ten years younger +before fall." + +The old man's face softened wonderfully. Indeed one could scarcely imagine +it was capable of such an expression. + +"Ah, George! you don't, you can't know," he said, "yet my heart is not so +dead but that I feel and recognize the spirit in which you speak. My place +is here, right here, and I should not be contented anywhere else. But you +are just from your studies. You didn't dazzle the faculty by your +performances. Perhaps they would say you were a little too much given to +boating and that sort of thing. But I am satisfied that you have come home +a man, and not a blue-spectacled milk-sop. Help me out a little, and then +go off on your lark yourself and recuperate." + +"Recuperate!" and the young fellow made the office ring with his laugh. +"Feel of that muscle, old gentleman. All the recuperation I need I can get +a few hours before and after sundown. I'll go now, however, for there's a +spanking breeze on the bay, and I'd like to make a run around Fort +Sumter." + +"George, George, be prudent. You know that your brother lies at the bottom +of that accursed bay." + +"There, father, there, he died doing his duty like a man, and you mustn't +grieve for him so. Good-by." + +The old man looked wistfully after him a moment, then turned his mind, +like a strong motor power, to the complicated machinery that was coining +wealth. + +George went to Bodine, whom he had never seen before, and of whom he knew +nothing, and began in his half-boyish way: "Here, mine ancient, father +wants--Beg your pardon. Didn't know that you had lost a leg." + +"What is it that Mr. Houghton wishes?" said the captain coldly, and +turning upon the young man a visage which impressed him instantly. + +"I beg your pardon again," said George. "My father would like copies made +of these letters;" and he touched his hat as he turned away. + +"Thunder!" he muttered as he left the counting-house. "I was told that I +was a gentleman for a little trumpery act in the street. That man tells +you he is one by a single glance from his sad, stern eyes. He is another +of the blue-bloods, Southerner to the backbone. How is it that he is in +the old gentleman's employ, I wonder? I supposed father hated +ex-Confederates as the Devil does holy water. Bodine, Bodine. I must find +out who he is, for he evidently has a history." + +He soon forgot all about Bodine in the pleasure of skilfully sailing his +boat close to the wind. + +Ella had pursued her way homeward with bowed head and a confused sense of +shame and resentment. "Suppose I did speak to him, a stranger," she +murmured, "was he so dull, or so cold and utterly conventional as to make +no allowance for the circumstances? No matter, I've had a lesson that I +shall never forget. Hereafter he and his kind may save all the old women +in Charleston, and fight all the bullies, and I won't even look at them. +If he had had the brains and blood of a frog even, he would have +understood me. And he did seem to understand at first, for he smiled +pleasantly and lifted his hat. Does he consider it an insult to be told he +is a gentleman? Perhaps he thought this fact should be too apparent to be +mentioned, or else he thought it bold and unmaidenly to open my lips at +all. A plague on him for not being able to see the simple truth. No +Southerner would have been so stupid, or ready to think evil." + +Thus she communed with herself till she reached her own room. After a +little thought, she decided not to speak of the adventure. She had an +unusual share of common-sense, and knew that the affair would only give +pain to her father and cousin, and that its relation would serve no +earthly good to any one. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE STRANGER EXPLAINS + + +There are those who touch our life closely, and become essentially a part +of it; there are many more who are but casual and passing acquaintances, +and yet these very people often unconsciously become the most important +factors in our destiny. Ella Bodine was soon to prove this truth. It will +of course be understood that her life was not so secluded and restricted +that she practically had no acquaintances beyond the characters of our +story. Sensible Mrs. Bodine had no intention that her pretty cousin should +be hidden behind the prejudices so powerful in those with whom she was +immediately associated. + +"Cousin Hugh," she said, one day soon after Ella's encounter with +Houghton, "how was it with you when you were a young fellow? how was it +with me when I was a girl? Do you suppose your daughter is made of +different flesh and blood? She is so unselfish in nature and sunny in +temperament that you will never learn from her that she has longings for +society of her own age. We have no right to keep her among our shadows. We +belong to the past; she has a future, and should have the chance which is +the right of every young girl. You must not judge her by Mara, who stands +by herself, and is not a representative of any ordinary type. She is as +old as you are, and a great deal older than I am. She has grown up among +shadows and loves them. Ella loves the sunshine, and should have all of it +that we can give her. Now, you must let her go out more. I will choose her +chaperons, and I reckon I know whom to choose. If I do say it, I would +like you to mention any one in Charleston more competent. I know about the +fathers and mothers, the grandfathers and grandmothers, and the remote +ancestors of every one in Charleston who _is_ any one." + +"Cousin Sophy, I believe you are right. I have permitted Ella to be too +devoted to me, but we have lived such a precarious life of late--indeed it +has been the vital question how we were to live at all. We are now very +differently situated. Yes, you are right. Ella should see something of +society, and enjoy some of its pleasures, and, as you say, should have her +chance." At these final words he sighed deeply. + +"I know what that sigh means," resumed the old lady. "You would wish to +keep Ella to yourself always--the natural impulse of a father's heart. Yet +if you allow this impulse to control you, it will become selfishness of +the worst kind. I say again that every girl should have her chance to see +and be seen, and to make the most and best of her life according to +woman's natural destiny. You may trust me, as I have said, to choose those +who shall have the care of Ella when she goes out. She has an invitation +to a little company at Mrs. Willoughby's, and a most discreet friend has +offered to chaperon her. We'll fix her out so that she will appear as well +as any one, and you know our claims don't rest on expensiveness of dress. +Mrs. Willoughby comes of one of the oldest and best families in the State. +I know she is liberal, and affiliates with Northern people more than I +could wish, but they are all said to be of the best class--and I suppose +there is a best class among 'em. Good Lor', Hugh! we may feel and think as +we please, and can never change, but we can't keep back the rising tide. +If there are a few Northern people present Ella won't be contaminated any +more than you are by working among Northern people. We have our strong +prejudices--that's what they are called--but we must not let them make us +ridiculous. Mrs. Willoughby says she's emancipated, and that she'd have +whom she pleased in her parlors. She has been abroad so much, you know. +Well, well, we'll consider it settled." And so it was. + +When Ella was informed of her cousin's plan in her behalf she was half +wild with delight. "I may consider myself a debutante," she said. "Oh, +Cousin Sophy! how shall I behave?" + +"Behave just as a bird flies," said the wise old lady. "If you put on any +airs, if you are not your own natural self, I'll shake you when you come +home." + +The captain saw his child's pleasure, and felt anew the truth of his +cousin's words. Ella should be immured no longer. Mara had been invited +also, but declined, preferring to spend the evening with Mrs. Bodine. + +Mrs. Willoughby's company was not large, and had been selected from +various motives. We need mention but one that had influenced her. Miss +Ainsley had requested that George Houghton should be invited. Her father +and Mr. Houghton had large business interests in common, and at Mr. +Ainsley's request the young man had called upon his daughter. She was +pleased with him, although she felt herself to be immeasurably older than +he. Mrs. Willoughby had also been favorably impressed by his fine +appearance and slightly brusque manner. + +"Yes," said the astute Miss Ainsley, as they were talking him over after +his departure, "he's a big, handsome, finely educated boy, who would walk +through your Southern conventionalities as if they were cobwebs, had he a +chance." + +"Delightful!" cried Mrs. Willoughby. "If I can keep my drawing-room free +from insipidity, I am content. As to his walking through our +conventionalities, as you term them, let him try it. If he doesn't butt +his head against some rather solid walls, I'm mistaken. You don't half +know what a bold thing I am doing when I invite old Houghton's son; but +then it is just this kind of social temerity that enchants me, and he +shall come. I only hope that some good people won't rise up and shake off +the dust of their feet." + +"Don't worry; you're a privileged character. Mr. Clancy has told me all +about it. He admires you immensely because you are so untrammelled." + +"He admires you a hundred-fold more. What are you going to do with him?" + +"I don't know. I couldn't do anything with him yet. That's his charm. If I +didn't know better, I should say he was the coldest--he is not cold at +all. The woman who reaches his heart will find a lot of molten lava. I'm +often inclined to think it has been reached by some one else, and that his +remarkable poise results from a nature fore-armed, or else chilled by a +former experience. At any rate, there is a fire smouldering in his nature, +and when it breaks out it won't be of the smoky, lurid sort that has so +often made me ill. There will be light and heat in plenty." + +"Well, you're an odd girl, Caroline. You experiment with men's hearts like +an old alchemist, who puts all sorts of substances into his crucible in +the hope of finding something that will enrich him." + +"And probably, like the old alchemist, I shall never find anything except +what, to me, is dross." + +Under Mrs. Robertson's wing Ella appeared, and met with a very kindly +reception. She had not Miss Ainsley's admirable ease, but she possessed +something far better. There was a sweet girlish bloom in addition to her +innately refined manner and ingenuous loveliness of face, which made even +the experienced belle sigh that she had passed by that phase forever. Yet +shrewd Ella's eyes were as busy as they were intelligent. She wondered at +Miss Ainsley with mingled admiration and distrust, but she had received a +sufficient number of hints from Mrs. Bodine to understand her hostess +quite well. She saw Clancy enter, and Miss Ainsley's welcome, and quickly +observed that there was a sort of free-masonry between them. Then some one +appeared who almost took away her breath. It was the stranger to whom she +had spoken so unexpectedly, even to herself. She saw that Mr. Clancy, Miss +Ainsley, and Mrs. Willoughby greeted him cordially, but that many others +appeared surprised and displeased. Little time was given to note more, for +the stranger's eyes fell upon her. He instantly turned to his hostess, and +evidently asked for an introduction. With a slight sparkle of mischief in +her eyes, Mrs. Willoughby complied, and Ella saw the stranger coming +toward her as straight and prompt as if he meant to carry her off bodily. +He seemed to ignore every one and everything else in the room, but she was +too high-spirited to fall into a panic, or even to be confused. Indeed she +found herself growing angry, and was resolving to give him a lesson, when +his name was mentioned. Then she was startled, and for an instant +confused. This was no other than the son of "that old--Mr. Houghton," as +Mrs. Bodine always mentioned him, with a little cough of self-recovery as +if she had been on the perilous edge of saying something very +unconventional. His father was her father's employer, and the instinctive +desire to save her father from trouble led to hesitation in her plan of +rebuke and retaliation. Her petty resentment should not lead to any +unpleasant complications, and she therefore merely bowed civilly. + +Houghton repeated her name as if a victim of momentary surprise himself, +and then said with his direct gaze, "I wish to ask ten thousand pardons." + +"That is a great many. I shall have to think about granting one." + +"If I were you I wouldn't do it," was his next rather brusque remark. + +"That is your advice, then?" + +"No, indeed. I'm not my own worst enemy. Miss Bodine, circumlocution is +not my forte. I had not walked a block away from you the other day before +I charged myself with being a fool and a brute. It took just that long for +me to get it into my thick head what your manner and words meant, and I've +been in a rage with myself ever since." + +"Well," she asked, looking down demurely, "what did they mean?" + +"They meant you were a brave girl--that from a chivalric impulse you had +drawn near when even men stood a little aloof, as if fearing that if the +affair came to blows, they might get a chance one themselves. Your face +had the frank expression of a child--how often in fancy I've seen it +since!--the words came from your lips almost as a child would speak them. +Now that I see you again I know how true my second thoughts were of you +and of myself. I deserve a whipping instead of your pardon." + +There was a point yet to be cleared up in Ella's mind, and she remarked +coldly, "I do not see how you could have had any other thoughts than what +you term your second thoughts." + +"Nor do I, now; and I suppose you can have no mercy on a poor fellow who +is often hasty and wrong-headed. I will make a clean breast of it. I was +charmed with your expression when first aware of your presence, but when +you spoke you touched a sore spot. Miss Bodine, you would not be +ostracized at the North. You would be treated with the courtesy and +cordiality to which every one would see you to be entitled. Practically I +am ostracized here by the class to which you belong. When you spoke I +stalked away like a sulky boy, muttering, 'Why shouldn't I be a +gentleman?' Even the girls in this town are taught to look upon +Northerners as boors. I had only to pick up an old woman, and face a +bully, when, as if in utter surprise that one of my ilk should be so +grandly heroic, I heard the words, 'You are a gentleman.' You see it was +my wretched egotism that got me into the scrape. When I thought of you, +not myself, I saw the truth at once, and felt like going back to the +expressman and meekly asking him to give me a drubbing." + +All was clear to Ella now. Indeed there was a frankness and sincerity +about Houghton which left no suspicion of dark corners and mental +reservations. As his explanation proceeded she began to laugh. "Well," she +remarked, "I had my first thoughts too. I said to myself, as I pursued my +way homeward, with burning cheeks, that you or any one else might save all +the old women in town, and fight all the bullies, and that I would pass on +my way without looking to the right or left." + +"Pardon me, Miss Bodine, you are mistaken. Your generous spirit would get +the better of you again in two seconds. Heaven grant, however, that next +time you may have a gentleman as your ally. For a few moments I ceased to +be one, and became an egotistical fool." + +"You are too hard upon yourself. Since you interpret me so kindly it would +ill become me to--" + +"Ella, my dear," said her chaperon, "let me present to you Mr. Vandeveer." + +Houghton gave her a bright, grateful glance, rose instantly, and bowed +himself away. + +Mrs. Robertson had been on pins and needles over this prolonged +conference. There was something so resolute about Houghton's manner, and +he had placed his chair so adroitly to bar approach to Ella, that the good +lady was in sore straits. Mrs. Willoughby saw her perplexity, and felt not +a little mischievous pleasure over it. She disappeared that she might not +be called upon to interfere. At last in desperation Mrs. Robertson laid +hold on Mr. Vandeveer, and ended the ominous interview. + +Ella gave rather lame attention to her new companion's commonplaces; then +others were introduced, and the evening was drifting away in the ordinary +fashion. She soon began to talk well in her own bright way, and had all +the attention a young debutante could desire, but she was always conscious +of Houghton's presence, and also aware that he was quietly observant of +her. She saw that he met with very little cordiality, and that from but a +few. Womanlike, she began to take his part in her thoughts, and to feel +the injustice shown him. She had an innate sense of fair play, and she +resented the manoeuvring of her chaperon to keep him away from her. Yet +she soon found herself enjoying abundantly the conversation of such young +men as met with Mrs. Robertson's approval. This truth was apparent to that +lady's satisfaction, but the independent young woman was not long in +resolving that if she went into society she would not go as a child in +leading-strings, and she determined that she would speak to Houghton again +before the evening was over, if the opportunity offered. He had at last +disappeared, but she soon discovered that he was on the balcony with +Clancy and Miss Ainsley. Strolling past them with her escort, she heard +enough of their bright, merry talk to wish that she had a part in it. It +was her nature, however, to avoid him until she could speak under the eye +of her chaperon, and she again entered the lighted drawing-room. + +Houghton, meanwhile, had been doing some thinking himself. The girl, whose +blue eyes had looked at him so approvingly in the street, was taking a +stronger hold on his fancy every moment. The relaxation of her cold aspect +into mirthfulness, and an approach to kindness had enchanted him; while +her ardent, honest, fearless nature appealed to him powerfully. "She +strikes me as a woman who would stand by a fellow through thick and thin +as long as he was right," he thought, "and if my judgment is correct the +whole ex-Confederate army shan't keep me from getting acquainted with her. +Ah! how I liked that severe look in her eyes till she knew what my first +thoughts were! She _has_ blue blood of the right sort, and I'm sorely +mistaken if it doesn't feed a brain that can think for itself." + +He also returned to the drawing-room, and was vigilant for an opportunity. +It soon occurred. Ella and her attendant were chatting with Mrs. +Willoughby a little apart from the others. Houghton joined them instantly, +and was encouraged when both the ladies greeted him with a smile. The +attendant gentleman soon withdrew, the hostess remained a few moments +longer, and then Houghton and Ella were alone. + +"You may have observed," he said, "the penalty I pay for being a +Northerner." + +"Yes," she replied, "and I don't think it's fair." + +"Miss Bodine, do you dare _think_ for yourself?" + +"I scarcely know how I can help doing so." + +"That is just what I was thinking out on the balcony." + +"I thought you were charmed by that beautiful Miss Ainsley." + +"She has no eyes except for Clancy, and a fine fellow he is too--too good +for her, I imagine. I can't make her out." + +"Neither can I." + +"Oh, bother her! I don't like feminine riddles. Miss Bodine, there's a +gentleman in my father's employ bearing your name. Is he a relative?" + +"He is my father," she replied proudly. + +"I should guess as much if your eyes were not so blue." + +"I have my mother's eyes, I am told." + +"Well, on that same day--you know--he told me that he was a gentleman: can +you guess how?" + +"I would rather you should tell me." + +"I was sent to him by my father with a message, and I spoke rudely to him +at first; not intentionally, but as a harum-scarum young fellow might +speak to an elderly man under ordinary circumstances, I meaning nothing +more than friendly familiarity. I fear you won't understand, but with you +I can't help downright honesty." + +"Yes, I understand. He was one of your father's clerks, and you cared +little what you said to him." + +"Scarcely right, Miss Bodine. With all my faults--and they are legion--I'm +good-natured, and do not intentionally hurt people's feelings. What a fine +proof of that I gave you in my insufferable stupidity!" + +"That's been explained and is past. Please don't refer to it any more." + +"Heaven knows I wish to forget it. Well, your father turned to me from his +writing. One look was enough. I begged his pardon twice on the spot. That +is the way he told me he was a gentleman. It had been so born and bred +into him that, unless a fellow was an idiot, one glance told the story." + +Her face softened wonderfully as he spoke, and her eyes grew lustrous with +feeling, as she said: + +"You are not an idiot, Mr. Houghton. I am glad you so quickly appreciated +my father. He is more than a gentleman, he is a hero, and I idolize him." + +"I should fancy it was a mutual idolatry," and his eyes expressed an +admiration of which the dullest girl would have been conscious, and Ella +was not dull at all. "I wish we could become acquainted," he added +abruptly, and with such hearty emphasis that her color deepened. + +Before she could reply, her chaperon managed to separate them again, and +she saw him no more until, rather early in the evening, she was bidding +her hostess goodnight. Then she encountered such an eager, questioning, +friendly look, that she smiled involuntarily, and slightly bowed as she +turned away. Mrs. Robertson was so preoccupied at the moment that she did +not witness this brief, subtile exchange of--what? Ella did not know, +herself, but her heart was wonderfully light, and there was a delicious +sense of exhilaration in all her veins. + +As they were driving home, Mrs. Robertson began sententiously, "Ella, in +the main you behaved admirably. I don't suppose anything better could be +expected of one so unversed in society, especially Charleston society. You +were natural and refined in your deportment, and bore yourself as became +your ancestry. You will soon learn to make discriminations. I had no idea +that young Houghton would be present, or I would have told you about him +and his father. Mrs. Willoughby is carrying things too far, even if many +of our people have consented to wink at much that we disapprove of. +Houghton represents the most detested Northern element among us. Of course +you, in your inexperience, felt that you must be polite to every man +introduced to you, and he talked with the volubility of which only a +Yankee is capable. It is scarcely possible that you will meet him anywhere +except at Mrs. Willoughby's, and if you go there any more you must learn +the art of shaking off an objectionable person speedily. Your meeting +Houghton to-night was purely accidental, and I reckon that after you have +been out a few times you will learn to choose your associates from those +only of whom your father and cousin would approve. Perhaps therefore you +had better not say anything about your meeting Houghton, unless you feel +that you ought. No harm has been done, and it would only displease your +father, and render him adverse to your going out hereafter." + +The good lady was a little worried by the fear that her reputation as a +chaperon would be damaged, and, sincerely believing that "no harm had been +done," and that her homily would remove all danger from the future, she +counselled as she thought wisely. Her heart was full of goodwill toward +the girl, and she was desirous that nothing should prevent her from +enjoying society in her interpretation of the word. + +Ella thanked her warmly for her kindness and advice, but she was in deep +perplexity, for she had never concealed anything from her father before. +Her lightness of heart was already gone, and there were tears in her eyes +before she slept. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +UNCLE SHEBA SAT UPON + + +Old Tobe, keeper of the "rasteran," may have been right in saying that +Uncle Sheba had backslidden as far as he could slide, remembering the +limitations of a life like his, but circumstances had recently occurred +which brought his church relations to a crisis. Tobe was the opposite pole +in character to Uncle Sheba. There was an energy about the old caterer +which defied age and summer heat. Even his white wool always seemed +bristling aggressively and controversially. His fiery spirit influenced +his commonest acts. When he boiled potatoes his customers were wont to say +"he made 'em bile like de debil." + +He carried his energy into his religion, one of his favorite exhortations +in the prayer-meeting being, "Ef you sinners wants to'scape you'se got to +git up an' git." During the preaching service he took a high seat in the +synagogue, and if any one in the range of his vision appeared drowsy he +would turn round and glare till the offender roused into consciousness. +The children and young people stood in awe of him, and there was a perfect +oasis of good behavior surrounding his pew. Once some irreverent young men +thought it would be a joke to pretend to "conviction ob sin," and to seek +religious counsel of old Tobe, but they came away scared half out of their +wits, one of them declaring that he smelt brimstone a week afterward. The +Rev. Mr. Birdsall felt that he had a strong ally in Tobe, but he often +sighed over the old man's want of discretion. + +Uncle Sheba was Tobe's _bete noir_, and he often inwardly raged over "dat +lazy niggah." "De time am comin' w'en dat backslider got to be sot on," he +would mutter, and this seemed his one consolation. He could scarcely +possess his soul in patience in the hope of this day of retribution; "but +I kin hole in till it come, fer it's gwine to come shuah," he occasionally +said to some congenial spirits. + +Tobe had a very respectable following in the church both as to numbers and +character, for many looked upon his zeal as heaven-inspired. At last there +came a hot Sunday afternoon which brought his hour and opportunity. Mr. +Birdsall was not only expounding, but also pounding the pulpit cushion in +order to waken some attention in his audience. Old Tobe had been whirling +from one side to the other, and glaring hither and thither, till in +desperation he got up and began to nudge and pinch the delinquents. From +one of the back pews, however, there soon arose a sound which so increased +as to drown even Mr. Birdsall's stentorian voice. Tobe tiptoed to the +spot, and, in wrath that he deemed righteous, blended with not a little +exultation, looked upon Uncle Sheba. His head had fallen on his bosom, and +from his nose were proceeding sounds which would put to shame a +high-pressure engine. Aun' Sheba was shaking him on one side and Kern +Watson on the other. Audible snickering was general, but this soon gave +way to alarm as Aun' Sheba exclaimed aloud, "He's dun gwine an' got de +popoplexy shuah." + +"Carry him out," said old Tobe, in a whisper which might have been heard +in the street. + +Two or three men sprang forward to aid, but Kern sternly motioned them +back, and, lifting Uncle Sheba's portly form as if it were a child, +carried the unconscious man to the vestibule. Scores were about to follow, +but Tobe, with his wool bristling as never seen before, held up his hand +impressively, and in the same loud whisper heard by all, remarked, "It +doan took de hull cong'ration to wait on one po' sinner. Sabe yo'selves, +brud'ren an' sisters. Sabe yo'selves, fer de time am a comin' w'en you'se +all will be toted out dis yere temple ob de Lawd foot fo'most." + +With this grewsome recollection forced upon their attention the people sat +down again, wide awake at last. Tobe beckoned to three or four elderly men +whom he knew he could rely upon, and they gathered around Uncle Sheba. His +wife was slapping him on the back and chafing his hands, while Kern was +splashing water in his face. The unfortunate man began to sneeze, and +manifest rather convulsive signs of recovery. At last he blurted out, "Dar +now, dar now, Aun' Sheba, doan go on so. I'se gwine to bring in de kinlins +right smart." + +"Bress de Lawd!" exclaimed Aun' Sheba, "dat soun' nat'rel. No popoplexy in +dat ar kin' ob talk." + +Tobe and his allies exchanged significant glances. Uncle Sheba was brought +to his senses sufficiently to be supported home by his wife and +son-in-law. He soon became aware that he had committed an awful +indiscretion, for Watson looked stern, and there was a portentous +solemnity in Aun' Sheba's expression. He began to enter on excuses. "I was +jis' come ober by de heat," he said. "'Tween de heat an' de po'ful sarmon, +I was jis' dat 'pressed dat de sperit went out ob me." + +"Mr. Buggone," replied his wife, severely, "it was wat went inter you, an' +not wat wen' out ob you, dat made de trouble. You jes' gormidized at +dinnah. I'se gwine to cut off you'se 'lowance one-half." + +At this dire threat Uncle Sheba groaned aloud, feeling that his sin had +overtaken him swiftly indeed. His supper was meagre, and to his plaintive +remarks Aun' Sheba made no reply, but maintained an ominous silence until +sleep again brought the relief of oblivion. + +After Uncle Sheba's departure, Tobe and the other pillars of the church +held a whispered conference in the vestibule, and soon agreed up their +course. When the services were over, they, with other sympathizers, waited +upon the minister. Mr. Birdsall was hot, tired, and incensed himself, and +so was in a mood to listen to their representations. + +"Hit's time dis yere scan'el was r'moved," said Tobe, solemnly. "We +mus'purge ourselves. Mr. Buggone should be sot on, an' 'spended at de +berry leas'; an' ter make de right 'pression on oders dat's gettin' weak +in dere speritool jints, I move we sot on Mr. Buggone's case to-morrer +ebenin'." + +Mr. Birdsall was made to feel that it was his duty to accede, but he +already felt sorry for Aun' Sheba and the Watsons, and had misgivings as +to the result. + +"Well," said he at last, "I'll agree to a prelim'nary conf'rence to-morrow +evenin' at Mr. Buggone's house. Brud-'ren, we must proceed in de spirit ob +lub an' charity, an' do our best to pluck a bran' from de burnin'." + +In the morning he went around to prepare Aun' Sheba for the ordeal, but +she and Vilet had gone out upon their mercantile pursuits, and Uncle Sheba +also had disappeared. To Sissy the direful intelligence was communicated. +In spite of all Mr. Birdsall's efforts to console, she was left sobbing +and rocking back and forth in her chair. When Kern came home, he heard the +news with a rigid face. + +"Well," he said, "ef it's right, it's right. Ef I'd done wrong I'd stan' +up an' face wot come ob it." + +Uncle Sheba knew when his wife would return, and was ready to receive her +in the meekest of moods. He had cut an unusual quantity of wood and +kindlings, but they failed to propitiate. Sissy soon called her mother to +come over to her cabin to hear of Mr. Birdsall's visit, and all that it +portended. Aun' Sheba listened in silence, and sat for a long time in deep +thought, while Sissy and Vilet sobbed quietly. At last the old woman said +firmly, "Sissy, I wants you and Kern ter be on han'. Vilet kin take keer +ob do chillun. Dis am gwine ter be a solemn 'casion, an' de Lawd on'y +knows wot's gwine ter come out ob it. Anyhow dis fam'ly mus' stan' by one +noder. My mind ain't clar jes yit, but'll git clar wen de'mergency comes; +I jes' feel it in my bones it'll git clar den." + +There was such an awful solemnity in her aspect when she returned, that +Uncle Sheba was actually scared. It seemed to him that her manner could +not be more depressing if she were making preparations for his funeral. +His trepidation was increased when he was told briefly and sternly to put +on his "Sunday-go-to-meetin's." + +"Wotfer, Aun' Sheba?" + +"You'se know soon 'nuff. De Elder's gwine to call on you dis ebenin'. Ef +you'd had de popoplexy in arnest, we'd make great 'lowance fer you, but +wen you eat an' drink till you mos' ready to bust, and den'sturb de hull +meetin' by snortin' like a 'potamus, dar's got to be trouble, an' I'se got +to meet it." + +Uncle Sheba did as he was directed, with the feeling that the judgment day +had come. + +Meanwhile old Tobe had prepared his indictment, and marshalled his forces +for the occasion. At seven in the evening he led them to the nearest +corner, and waited for Mr. Birdsall, who soon appeared. Led by him, they +entered Aun' Sheba's living-room in solemn procession. Although the +evening was warm, there was a fire on the hearth, for she had said, +"Dere's gwine ter be notin' wantin' to de 'casion." All the chairs had +been brought in from Watson's cabin, and he and Sissy sat in the +background. Uncle Sheba had been placed on the further side of the hearth, +and was fairly trembling with apprehension. He tried to assume a pious, +penitent air, but failed miserably. Aun' Sheba made an imposing spectacle. + +She had arrayed herself in her Sunday gown and had wound a flaming turban +about her head. Apparently she was the most collected person present, +except Kern Watson who sat back in shadow, his face quiet and stern. As +the minister and committee entered she rose with dignity and said, "Elder +an' brud'ren, take cheers." + +Then she sat down again, folded her hands and gazed intently at the +ceiling. + +If old Tobe was not cool, as indeed he never was, he was undaunted, and +only waited for the minister to prepare the way before he opened on Uncle +Sheba. A few moments of oppressive silence occurred, daring which the +culprit shook as if he had an ague, but Aun' Sheba did not even wink. Mr. +Birdsall, regarding her portentous aspect with increased misgiving, began +at last in a mournful voice, "Mis Buggone, dis is a very sorrowful +'casion. We are here not as you'se enemies but as you'se fren's. Our duty +is painful, 'stremely so, but de brud'ren feel dat de time is come wen Mr. +Buggone mus' be made to see de error ob his ways, dat dere mus' be no mo' +precrastination. De honah ob de church is japerdized. Neber-de-less he is +a free-agent. De lamp still holes out to burn--" + +"An' de wilest sinner can return," interrupted Aun' Sheba, nodding her +head repeatedly. "I unerstan'. You means well, Elder." + +Old Tobe could hold in no longer, and began excitedly, "De question am +weder de wile sinner's gwine ter return, or wants ter return, or's got any +return in 'im. Elder, I feels fer Mis Buggone an' her family, but dis yere +ting's gwine on long anuff. We'se been forbearin' an' long-sufferin' till +dere's a scan'el in de church. I'se tried wid all my might 'er keep de +people awake an' listenin', and I'se gettin' dun beat out. Ef we wink at +dis awful 'zample you mought as well go to de grabeyard an' preach. It ud +be mo' comfable fer you, kase dey'd hear jus' as well, an' dey wouldn't +'sturbe de'scorse by snorin' de roof off. Now I ask de sense ob dis +meetin'. Wen a member backslide so he do notin' but eat an' sleep, +oughtener he be sot on?" + +There was audible approval from all of Tobe's followers, and he was +encouraged to go on. + +"Ef Mr. Buggone mus' sleep mos' ob de time let him sleep peac' ble in his +own house, but de Scripter say, 'Wake dem dat sleepest,' an' we say it's +time Mr. Buggone woke up. Any cullud pusson dat kin snore so po'ful as Mr. +Buggone needn't say he weakly an' po'ly. Hafe de poah he put in his snore +ud lif' 'im right along in all good works, week days an' Sundays. But I'se +los' faith in 'im. He's been 'spostulated an' 'monstrated with, an' +'zorted so often dat he's hardened an' his conscience zeered wid a hot +iron. We'se jes' got to take sich sinners in han', or de paster-lot won't +hole de flock no mo'. I move we take steps to s'pend Mr. Buggone." + +"Secon' dat motion," said one of his followers promptly. + +"Mr. an' Mis Buggone, have you nothin' to say?" asked Mr. Birdsall sadly. + +"Elder," began Uncle Sheba in his most plaintive tone, "you know de heat +yistidy was po'ful--" + +"Mr. Buggone," interrupted his wife severely, "dis ain't no 'casion fer +beatin' round de bush an' creepin troo knotholes. You knows de truf an' I +knows de truf. No, Elder, we'se got not'in ter say at jes' dis time." + +"Den, Elder, you put de motion dat we take steps," said Tobe, promptly. + +With evident reluctance Mr. Birdsall did so, and the affirmative was +unanimously voted by the committee. + +"I wants ter be s'pended too," said Aun' Sheba, still gazing at the +ceiling. + +"Now, Mis Buggone, dere would be no right nor reason in dat," the minister +protested. + +"Elder, I doesn't say you-uns ain't all right, an' I does say you means +well, but I'se de bes' jedge of my inard speritool frame. Hit was neber +jes' clar in my mind dat I was 'ligious, an' now I know I ain't 'ligious, +an' I wants ter be s'pended." + +"But it is clar in my mind dat you are religious, dat you'se a good woman. +Would to de good Lawd dat de church was full ob Christians like you!" + +"I'se spoke my min'," persisted Aun' Sheba, doggedly. "Ole Tobe shall hab +his way an' de church be purged." + +"Elder," said Tobe, now quite carried away by zeal and exultation, "p'raps +Mis Buggoue am de bes' jedge. Ef she feel she ain't one ob de aninted +ones--" + +"Peace!" commanded Mr. Birdsall, "never with my consent shall any steps be +taken to suspend Mis Buggone. You forgits, Tobe, how easy it is to pull up +de wheat wid de tares." + +"Den I s'pend myself," said Aun' Sheba, "an' I _is_ s'pended. Now I gwine +ter 'fess de truf. I gave Mr. Buggone an extra Sunday dinner yistidy. I +was puff up wid pride kase business was good, an' I bress de Lawd fer +prosperin' me. Den like a fool I 'dulge myself and I 'dulge Mr. Buggone. +Ef he's ter be s'pended fer a snorin' sleep, I oughter be s'pended fer a +dozin' sleep, fer I _was_ a-dozin'; an' I feels it in my bones dat we bofe +oughter be s'pended, an' I _is_, no matter wot you does wid Mr. Buggone. +Now, Tobe, you hab had you'se say, an' I'se a-gwine to hab mine. You'se +got a heap ob zeal. You wouldn't lead de flock; you'd dribe 'em, you'd +chase 'em, you'd worry de bery wool off ob dem. Whar you git you sperit +fum? You ain't willin' ter wait till de jedgment day; you'd hab a jedgment +ebery day in de week. You'se like dem 'siples dat was allers wantin' ter +call down fiah from Heben. Look out you don't get scorched yo'self. I +can't be 'ligious long o' you, an' if you got 'ligion I habn't. Elder, you +says de Lawd libed yere on dis yarth. I ony wish I'd libed in dem days. +I'd a cooked, an' washed, an' ironed, an' baked fer Him an' all de +'siples. Den like anuff He'd say: 'Ole Aun' Sheba, you means well. I won't +be hard on you nor none of you'se folks when de jedgment day comes.' But +so much happen since dat ar time wen He was yere dat I kinder got mixed +up. I reckon I jes' be s'pended, an' let Him put de ole woman whar she +belong wen de time comes." + +There was pathos in her tones; her stoicism had passed away, and tears +were streaming from her eyes, while Sissy was sobbing audibly. The +committee at first had been aghast at the result of the meeting, and now +their emotional natures were being excited also. Old Tobe was +disconcerted, and still more so when Aun' Sheba suddenly rallied, and, +turning upon him, said with ominous nods, "Wen dat day come, Old Tobe, you +won't be de jedge." + +Thus far Kern Watson had sat silent as a statue, but now his strong +feelings and religious instincts gained the mastery. Lifting up his +powerful mellow voice he sang: + + "The people was a-gatherin' from far and neah; + Some come fer fishes an' some ter heah; + But He fed dem all, an' He look so kin' + Dat dey followed, dey followed, an' none stay behin' + + "But one got loss, an' he wandered far, + De night come dark, no moon, no star; + De lions roared an' de storm rose high, + An' de po' loss one lie down ter die. + + "Den come a voice, an' de win's went down, + An' de lions grovel on de groun', + An' de po' loss one am foun' an' sabed, + For de Shepherd ebery danger brabed." + +These words, as sung by Kern, routed old Tobe completely; he hung his head +and had not a word to say. The committee had beaten time with their feet, +and began to clap their hands softly. Then Mr. Birdsall, with kindly +energy, exhorted Uncle Sheba, who groaned aloud and said "Amen" as if in +the depths of penitence. A long prayer followed which even moved old Tobe, +for Aun' Sheba had shaken his self-confidence terribly. The little company +broke up with hand-shaking all around, Tobe saying: "Sister Buggone, I +bears no ill-will. I'se gwine ter look inter my speritool frame, an' ef I +cotch de debil playin' hob wid me he's gwine to be put out, hoof an' +horns." + +Aun' Sheba wrung her son-in-law's hand, as she said: "You'se singin', +Kern, kinder went to de right spot. Neber-de-less I'se s'pended till I +feels mo' shuah." + +Sissy kissed her mother and father affectionately, and then the old couple +were left alone. Aun' Sheba gazed thoughtfully into the dying fire, but +before long Uncle Sheba began to hitch uneasily in his chair. Finally he +mustered up courage to say: "Aun' Sheba, dis am been bery po'ful 'casion, +bery tryin' to my narbes an' feelin's. Yet I feels kinder good an' hopeful +in my inards. Ef I wasn't jes' so dun beat out I'd feel mo' good. P'raps +now, 'siderin' all I'se pass troo, you wouldn't min' gibin' me a bit ob +dat cole ham an' hoe-cake--" + +"Mr. Buggone," began Aun' Sheba sternly, then she suddenly paused, threw +her apron over her head and rocked back and forth. + +"Dar now, Aun' Sheba, dar now, doan go on so. I was ony a sigestin' kase I +feels po'ly, but I kin stan' it." + +"I'se no better dan old Tobe hisself," groaned Aun' Sheba. "All on us is +hard on some one, while a hopin' fer marcy ourselves. Ef you'se hebin is +in de cubud, go in dar an' hep a sef." And she rose and opened the door of +the treasure-house. + +"I'se jes' take a leetle bite, Aun' Sheba, jes a leetle comf'tin bite, +kase I'se been so sot on dat I feels bery weakly an' gone-like." + +Uncle Sheba was soon comforted and sleeping, but Aun' Sheba still sat by +the hearth until the last glowing embers turned to ashes. "Yes," she +muttered at last, "I'se s'pended till I feels mo' shuah." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +YOUNG HOUGHTON IS DISCUSSED + + +Sleep and buoyancy of temperament enabled Ella to see everything in a very +different light the following morning. "The idea of my taking what +happened last night so seriously!" she said aloud while making her toilet. +"As Mrs. Robertson said, 'no harm has been done.' Of course I shall tell +papa and Cousin Sophy that I met and talked to Mr. Houghton. What if I +did? He was introduced to me just as the others were, and what do I care +for him? He was a very agreeable Vandal, and I'm glad to have had a chance +to see what Vandals are like. As with other bugaboos they lose their +terrors under close inspection." + +At breakfast, therefore, she was merrier than usual, and gave a graphic +and humorous account of the company, expatiating on the beauty and mystery +of Miss Ainsley, her preference for Clancy, and his apparent devotion to +her. + +"By the way," she said at last, "who do you think was there? You can't +guess, so I will tell you--young Mr. Houghton." + +"What! the son of that old-beg pardon, Cousin Hugh," and Mrs. Bodine +laughingly added, "It nearly slipped out that time." + +"I hope he was not presented to you, Ella," said her father gravely. + +"Well, he was, and by Mrs. Willoughby. I didn't talk with him very much, +but of course I had to be polite. When I first heard his name I felt that +I should be polite for your sake; and I was rather sorry for him, too, +because so many evidently frowned on his presence." + +"You need not be polite to him again for my sake," said her father +decidedly. "I am under no obligations to him or his father, and this is a +case into which policy cannot enter. I do not blame you, however," he +added, more kindly, "for you acted from good impulses. Of course, as you +say, you must be polite to every one, but you have a perfect right to be +cold toward those who are unfriendly to us, and with whom we can never +have any part or lot. I have been in Mr. Houghton's employ long enough to +be convinced more fully, if possible, that, while he is an honest man, he +has not a particle of sympathy with or for our people. I told him from the +start that there could be no social relations between us. You must learn +to avoid and shake off people who are objectionable." + +"Well," said Ella, laughing, "I won't have to shake off people while under +Mrs. Robertson's wing. She bore down upon us, as Cousin Sophy would say, +like a seventy-four of the line. Dear papa, you know that Mr. Houghton is +nothing to me, but it scarcely seems fair that he should be punished for +the sins of his father." + +"You need not punish him, my dear. Simply have nothing to do with him. He +is the last person in the world to be regarded as an object of sympathy," +and her father spoke a little irritably. + +Ella thought it wise to make no further reference to him. "After all," she +thought, "what does it matter? I'm glad he had a chance to explain that +disagreeable episode in the street, and now I am practically done with +him. I can at least be civil, should we ever meet again, and there it will +end." + +"Mrs. Willoughby is going too far," said Mrs. Bodine, musingly. "If she +continues to invite such people she may find that other invitations will +be declined without regrets. We haven't much left to us, but we can at +least choose our associates." + +"Don't be alarmed," said Ella lightly. "I did not invite him to spend this +evening with us," and kissing her father and cousin good-by, she started +for Mara's home. + +Her thoughts were busy on the way, and they were chiefly of a +self-gratulatory character. The whole episode now amused her greatly, for +she could not help agreeing with her father that the great, strapping +fellow was not an object of sympathy. "He probably has a score of flames +at the North," she thought, "and wouldn't mind adding a little Southern +girl to the number, especially as she is a sort of forbidden fruit to him. +Well, he's not a bad fellow, if he is that old blank's son, as Cousin +Sophy always suggests. Nevertheless, I don't think he's treated fairly, +and I can't keep up these old bitter feelings. What had he or I to do with +the war, I'd like to know? Well, well, I suppose it's natural for those +who went through it to feel as they do, but I wish Mara wasn't so bound up +in the past. It isn't fair to him," she broke out again. "He said I +wouldn't be ostracized at the North. Bother! it don't matter what he said. +As to our getting acquainted--" And she almost laughed outright at the +preposterous idea. + +She and Mara were soon busy as usual, and as opportunity offered, she told +her fellow-worker of the events of the evening. Mara, with a languid +interest, inquired about those whom she knew, and how they appeared, and +she sometimes laughed aloud at Ella's droll descriptions. She was even +more emphatic in her disapproval of young Houghton's presence than the +captain or Mrs. Bodine had been. "I shall never accept any invitation from +Mrs. Willoughby after this," she said firmly. + +"Well now, Mara," replied Ella, with a little toss of her head, "I can't +share in that spirit. Mr. Houghton is a gentleman, and I could meet him in +society, chat with him, and let it end there. We can't keep this thing up +forever, that is, we of the younger generations. Why should I hate that +big, good-natured fellow? The very idea seems ridiculous. I could laugh at +him, and tease and satirize him a little, but I could no more feel as you +do toward him, than I could cherish an enmity toward a sunflower. Still, +since father feels as he does, I shall have to cut him as far as possible, +should I ever meet him again, which is not probable. I reckon that Mrs. +Willoughby will be so crushed that even she won't invite him any more." + +"I should hope not, truly." + +"Well, she has a Northern girl visiting her, and a very remarkable looking +girl she is." + +"That is a different affair, although I do not approve of it. Miss Ainsley +is the daughter of a rich man who is doing much for the South, and who +feels kindly toward us, while old Mr. Houghton detests us as heartily as +we do him. He is absorbing our business and taking it away from Southern +men, and he exults over the fact. Miss Ainsley is certainly a very +beautiful girl, for I've seen her. I suppose she received much attention." +Mara purposely turned her back on Ella, and busied herself in the further +part of the kitchen. She had heard rumors of Clancy's attention to the +fair Northerner, and she both dreaded and hoped to have them verified. +"Anything," she sighed, "oh, anything which will break his hold upon my +heart!" + +Unconsciously, Ella gave her more information than she could well endure. +"I reckon she did receive attention, very concentrated attention, and that +was all she cared for evidently. She was rather languid until Mr. Clancy +appeared, and then she welcomed him with all her brilliant eyes. He looked +as if he understood her perfectly, and they spent most of the evening on +the shadowy balcony together. It is another case of the North conquering +the South; but if I were a man, I'd think twice before surrendering to +that girl. I had an instinctive distrust of her." + +Mara felt that she was growing pale, and she immediately busied herself +about the stove until her face flamed with the heat. + +"You don't seem to take much interest in the affair," Ella remarked, as +Mara continued silent. + +"I never expect to make Miss Ainsley's acquaintance," was the quiet reply, +"and Mr. Clancy in my view has almost ceased to be a Southerner." + +"Well, I never met him before, and have only heard a little about him from +cousin Sophy, and that not in his favor. He has a strong, intelligent face +though, and a very resolute look in his eyes." + +"Yes," admitted Mara coldly, "I reckon he's one who would have his own way +without much regard for others." + +"He may slip up for once. Miss Ainsley struck me as a girl who would have +her way, no matter how many hearts she fractured." + +Aun' Sheba and Vilet now entered, diverting Ella's thoughts. The old woman +sat down rather wearily, a look of deep dejection on her face. + +"Look here, Aun' Sheba," said the lively girl, "you're not well, or else +something is troubling you. You looked down-hearted yesterday, and you +look funereal now." + +"We'se been sot on," said Aun' Sheba solemnly. + +"'Sot on!' good gracious! Aun' Sheba, what do you mean?" + +"Well, dey sot on my ole man, an' husband an' wife am me. Hit didn't turn +out bad as I s'posed it would, bress tat ar son-in-law ob mine, but I +keeps a tinkin' it all ober, an' I'se 'jected, I is; an' dar's no use ob +shoutin' glory wen you doan feel glory." Then she told the whole story, +which kept Ella on pins and needles, for, while she felt an honest +sympathy for the poor soul, she had an almost uncontrollable desire to +laugh. + +"Yes, Missy Mara," concluded Aun' Sheba pathetically, "I'se s'pended, I +s'pended myself, an' I'se gwine to stay s'pended till I feels mo' shuah." + +"Suspended, Aun' Sheba!" said Mara, starting, suddenly becoming conscious +of present surroundings. + +Aun' Sheba looked at her wonderingly, but voluble Ella made it all right +by saying, "No wonder Mara exclaimed. The idea! I wish I was half as good +as you are." + +"Oh, yes," cried Mara, striving to conceal her deep preoccupation, "that's +the way with Aun' Sheba; the better she is, the worse she thinks she is. +Do you mean to say that your church people have suspended you?" + +"No. I'se s'pended myself. Didn't I tole you?" + +"There, there, Aunty, I didn't understand. I believe in you and always +will." + +"Well, honey, I reckon you'se ole nuss'll alers be do same ter you wheder +she'se 'ligious or no." + +Both the girls now stood beside her, with a hand on either shoulder, and +Ella said heartily, "Now, Aun' Sheba, it is just as you said, you're +'jected; you've got the blues, and everything looks blue and out of shape +to you. You can't see the truth any more than if you were cross-eyed. I +can prove to you whether you're 'ligious or not. Vilet, ain't your grandma +a good Christian woman?" + +"'Deed an' she is troo an' troo," said the child, who had been a silent, +yet deeply sympathetic listener. "Many's de time she's sent me wid good +tings to po' sick folks." + +"There now," cried Ella. "Aun' Sheba, you've got to believe the Bible. +'Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings,' it says. You can't deceive a +child. Vilet knows better than you do." + +"Shuah now, does you tink it's dataway?" and Aun' Sheba looked up with +hope in her eyes. + +"Of course we think it's that way," said Ella. "Aun' Sheba, you know a +heap, as you say, about many things, but you don't half know how good you +are." + +"I know how bad I is anyhow. I tells you I was in a dozin' sleep." + +"Well, I've been in a dozin' sleep many a time," said Ella, "and I'm not +going to be suspended by any one, not even myself." + +"Aun' Sheba," said Mara gently but firmly, "you know I'm in earnest, and +how much I love you for all your goodness ever since I was a helpless +baby. You wouldn't say hard, untrue things against any one else. You have +no more right to be unjust to yourself. As Ella says, I wish I was as good +a Christian as you are." + +"Now, Missy Mara, no mo' ob dat ar talk. I knows my inard feelin's bes' ob +any one. What Vilet say chirk me up po'fully, kase she see me ebery day. I +tell you what I'se gwine ter do; I'se gwine ter put myself on 'bation, and +den see wot come ob it. Now, honeys, I'se 'feered long nuff wid business. +You'se dun me good, honey lam's, an' de Lawd bress you bofe. I'se tote de +basket a heap pearter fer dis yere talk. I feels a monst'us sight betteh. +Wish I could see you, honey, lookin' as plump as Missy Ella. Dat do me +mos' as much good as feelin' 'ligious." + +Mara worried Mrs. Hunter over her pretence of making a dinner, and then +gladly sought the solitude of her own room. At last she said with a bitter +smile, "He has broken the last shred that bound me." But as the hours +passed in tumultuous thoughts, her heart told her how vain were such +words. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE WARNING + + +Captain Bodine was halting serenely down into that new vista in his life +of which we have already spoken. Every day both promise and fulfilment +seemed richer than he had ever imagined any future experience could be. He +was domiciled in a home exactly to his taste; his cousin's brave, cheerful +spirit was infectious; the worry of financial straits was over, and Ella +was blooming and happy. These favorable changes in themselves would have +done much toward banishing gloom and despondency; but another element had +entered into his existence which was as unexpected as it was sweet. A +deep, subtile exhilaration was growing out of his companionship with Mara. +Every long, quiet talk that he enjoyed with her left a longing for +another. She was learning to regard him almost as a father, but he did not +think of her as he did of Ella. He loved Ella as his child, but her +buoyant spirit, her intense enjoyment of the present, and her eager, +hopeful eyes, fixed upon the future, separated her from him. He did not +wish it otherwise in her case, for he hoped that there was a happy future +for her, and he rejoiced daily over the gladness in her face. Mara, +although so young, seemed of his own generation. He often repeated to +himself his cousin's words, "She is as old as you are." She appeared to +live in the past as truly as himself. There was scarcely a subject on +which they were not in sympathy. + +He believed that Mrs. Bodine was right, and that Mara was essentially +different from others of her age. Indeed the impression grew upon him that +the mysterious principle of heredity had prepared her for the +companionship which apparently was valued as much by her as by himself. +During the many hours in which he was alone, he thought the subject over +in all its aspects, as he supposed, and a hope, exquisitely alluring, +began to take form in his heart. + +No man is without a certain amount of egotism and self-love, and, although +these were not characteristics of Bodine, he could not help dwelling upon +the truth that the remainder of his life would be very different from what +he had expected could Mara be near to him. + +Her eloquent look of sympathy so soon after they met began to take the +form of prophecy. At first it led him to believe that she would receive a +paternal, loving regard, much the same as he gave to Ella; but, as time +passed, he began to dwell upon the possibility of a closer tie. She +appeared to have no especial friends among young men, nor indeed to care +for any. Might not a strong, quiet affection grow in each heart until they +could become one in the closest sense, even as they were now one in so +many of their thoughts and views? + +It was natural that his deepening regard should tinge his manner, yet Mara +dreamed of nothing beyond the affection which she was glad to receive from +him. Vigilant eyes, however, were following Captain Bodine, and Clancy, +with a lover's jealous intuition, was guessing his rival's thoughts and +intentions more clearly every day. He did not adopt any system of +espionage, nor did he ask questions of any one, but merely took occasion +to walk on the Battery at an hour when it was most frequented. Here he +often saw Mara and the veteran enjoying the cool sunset hour, and +sometimes he observed that Mara saw him. So far from shunning such +observation, he not infrequently compelled her recognition, which was +always coldly bestowed upon her part. + +"It would seem that Mr. Clancy is more inclined to be friendly than you +are," Bodine remarked one evening. + +"Before Mr. Clancy valued Northern friends more than Southern ones we were +friendly," was Mara's quiet reply. She had schooled herself now into +outward self-control, but she chafed at his presence, and thought he +happened to be near her too frequently. Still it was ever will versus +heart, for the latter always acknowledged him as master. + +He was satisfied that his impressions in regard to Bodine were correct, +and was impelled by his love to make an effort to save her from drifting +into relations which he believed must inevitably destroy her chance for +happiness. His strong, keen mind had analyzed her every word, tone, and +varying expression, and he had become quite sure that her bearing toward +him was not the result of indifference, but was rather due to pride, and a +resolute purpose not to yield to him unless he adopted her views. He also +understood her sufficiently well to dread lest a morbid sense of loyalty +to her father's memory might lead her to accept his friend and old +companion in arms. + +"Her immediate associates would encourage the idea," he thought, "and +there are none to advise or warn her except myself. She is morbid and +unbalanced enough to commit just such a fatal error. Her bringing up, and +all the influence of that warped Mrs. Hunter, would lead her to sacrifice +herself to the manes of her ancestors. Yet how can I warn her--how can I +reach her except I write? I wish to look into her eyes when I speak. I +wish to plead with her with all the power that I possibly possess. Great +Heaven! if this that I fear should happen, what an awakening she might +have when it was too late!" + +At last he resolved on the simplest and most straightforward course, and +wrote-- + +"MARA--Will you grant me one more interview--the last, unless you freely +concede others. I have something important to say to you, something that +relates far more to your happiness than to my own. In excuse for my +request, I have nothing better to plead than my love which you have +rejected, and yet which entitles me to some consideration. I think my +motive is unselfish--as unselfish as can be possible under the +circumstances. You may treat me as you please, but your welfare will +always be dear to me. I shall not seek to change your convictions, nor +shall I plead for myself, for I know that all this would be useless; but I +wish to see you face to face once more alone in your own home. I must also +request that Mrs. Hunter will not interfere with our interview. You are +not a child, and you know that I am a gentleman, and that I am incapable +of saying a word at variance with my profound respect for you. OWEN +CLANCY." + +Mara was deeply agitated by this missive. Her first emotion was that of +anger, as much at herself as at him--a confused resentment that his words, +his very handwriting, should so move her, and that he should venture to +write at all. Had she not made it sufficiently plain that he had no right +to take, or, at least, to manifest any such interest in her affairs? Were +all her efforts futile to hide her love? In spite of her habit of reserve +and repression she had a passionate heart, and this fact had been forced +upon her by vain and continuous struggles. Had he the penetration to learn +the truth? She could not tell, and this uncertainty touched her pride to +the very quick. After hours of wavering purpose, impulses to ignore him +and his request, moments of tenderness in which will, pride, and every +consideration were almost overwhelmed, she at last arrived at a fixed +resolution. "I _will_ see him," she murmured. "He has virtually told me +that he will not give up what he terms his principles for love. I shall +not acknowledge my secret, but if he has discovered it, he shall learn +that I also will not give up my principles for love." + +The next morning she quietly handed Clancy's note to Mrs. Hunter. + +"Shameful!" ejaculated the lady. "Of course you will pay no attention to +him, or else write a curt refusal. I insist on one course or the other." + +Mara looked steadfastly at her aunt until the worthy lady was somewhat +disconcerted, and asked fretfully, "What do you mean by that look, Mara?" + +"Aunty, can't you realize that I am no longer a child, as he says?" + +"Well, but in a case like this--" + +"In a case like this which concerns me so personally, I must act according +to my own judgment. You can be in the adjoining room. Indeed I have no +objection to your hearing what is said, but I would rather you should not. +You have no occasion to fear. Mr. Clancy has alienated me forever. I have +no doubt that before the summer is over he will be engaged to Miss +Ainsley, if he is not already engaged virtually. I have reasons for +granting this final interview which are personal--which my self-respect +requires, and, since they are personal, I need not mention them. There +shall be no want of respect and affection for you, aunty, but you must +realize that I have become an independent woman, and I have the entire +right to decide certain questions for myself." + +"Well, I wash my hands of it all," said Mrs. Hunter, coldly, "and since my +strong convictions have no weight with you, and you intend to act +independently of me, of course I shall not permit myself to hear a word of +your conversation." + +"That will be the more delicate and honorable course, aunty." + +"Well, Mara, I only wish I need not be in the house at the time." + +"Aunty, that is the same as saying that your enmity toward Mr. Clancy is +greater than your love for me." + +"But I don't see the use of this intensely disagreeable interview. This is +the only home I have." + +"And the only home I have also, aunty." + +"Oh, well, if you will, you will, I reckon." + +"Yes, if I will, I _will_, and Mr. Clancy shall learn that I have a will." + +As Aun' Sheba was departing that morning, Mara followed her into the +hallway, and, placing a note in her hand, said, "Give that to Mr. Clancy +and to no other. Say nothing to him or to any one else. Do you understand, +Aun' Sheba?" + +"I does, honey. Wen you talk dataway you'se heah an eyster shoutin' 'fore +Aun' Sheba speak." + +Clancy only said, "Thank you," as he thrust a half-dollar into the old +woman's hand. + +Aun' Sheba laid it on the desk, and remarked with great dignity, "I does +some tings widout money." + +He paid no heed to her, but read eagerly, "Mr. Clancy--Come this evening. +Mara Wallingford." + +With a long breath he thought, "It will be my last chance. I fear it will +be useless, but at no future day shall she think in bitterness of heart, +'He might have done more to save me.'" + +There was no sudden, involuntary illumination of her face on this occasion +when he entered her little parlor, and she could not help noticing that +his face was pale. She also saw from his expression that his spirit was as +high as hers; that there was not a trace of the lover, eager to plead his +cause. "He has pleaded successfully elsewhere," she thought, and, in spite +of all other conflicting feelings, she was curious to know what his motive +could be in seeking the interview. + +"Good-evening, Mr. Clancy. Will you sit down?" she said, coldly. + +"Yes, Mara. Pardon me for calling you Mara. I am beyond any affectation of +formality with you, and you know there is no lack of respect on my part." + +She merely bowed and waited in silence. + +"When you learn my motive for making my request, for coming here to-night, +you will probably resent it, but you have taught me to expect little else +except resentment from you." + +"Mr. Clancy, there is no cause for such language. Certainly I was quietly +pursuing the even tenor of my way." + +"Do you understand fully whither that way is leading?" + +"Truly, Mr. Clancy, that is a singular question for you to ask." + +"I understand you, Mara. You mean that it is no affair of mine." + +He knew that her silence gave assent to this view, and he answered as if +she had spoken. + +"Nevertheless you are mistaken. It _is_ an affair of mine. There could be +no peace for me in the future if I failed you now, for it seems to me I am +the only true friend you have in the world." + +"Mr. Clancy," she said hotly, "we have differed so greatly before that I +might have been saved the pain of this interview, but we never differed as +we do at this moment. I cannot listen to you any longer. It would be +disloyalty to those who _are_ true friends--friends that I love and +honor." + +"Do you love Captain Bodine?" + +"Certainly I do. He was my father's friend; he is my honored friend." + +"Do you _love_ Captain Bodine?" + +"What do you mean?" she asked angrily, flushing to her very brow. + +"Mara, be calm. Listen to me as you value your life, as you value your own +soul. Do you think I would come here for slight cause at such cost to us +both?" + +"I think you are strangely mistaken in coming here, and using language +which makes me doubt your sanity." + +"Please do me the justice to note that there is nothing wild in my manner, +nor any excitement in my words." + +"Noting this, I find it more difficult to explain your course, or to +pardon it." + +"It is not necessary at present, that you should do either. Please be +patient a few minutes longer and my mission is ended. I am not pleading +for myself, but for you. Please listen, or a time may come when in a +bitterness beyond words you may regret that you did not hear me. Thank +Heaven! it is clear that I have not come too late. Captain Bodine is more +than your friend in _his_ feelings; he is your lover, and you are so +morbid, unfriended, unguided, that you are capable of sacrificing +yourself--" + +"Hush! you are wronging a man whom you are unworthy to name. He has never +dreamed of such love as you suggest." + +"I am right. Oh, I have learned too deeply in the school of experience not +to know. My warning may be of no avail, but you shall not drift unawares +into this thing, you shall not enter into it, nor be persuaded into it +from a false spirit of self-sacrifice--" + +"Mr. Clancy, I will not listen a moment longer to such preposterous +language. You are passing far beyond the limits of my forbearance. If your +conscience is burdened on my account because I am so 'unfriended,' I +absolve you fully. You will and do know how to console yourself. Our +interview must end here and now. It were disloyalty for me to listen a +moment longer. We are strangers from this day forth, Mr. Clancy." And she +rose flushed and trembling. + +He also rose, and with an intent look which held her gaze, said gently: +"There is that which will speak although I am banished." + +"What?" + +"Your heart." + +"If it broke a thousand times I will not speak to you again," she cried +passionately. "Even if you were right it would be ignoble to suggest such +a thing. Truly your associations have led you far from the promise of your +youth." + +"I have not said that your heart would plead for me," he replied sternly. +"But it _will_ plead against all that is unnatural, contrary to your young +girlhood, contrary to the true, right instincts which God has created. You +may seek to stifle its voice, but you cannot. When you are alone it will +tell you, like the still small voice of God, that your obdurate will is +wrong, that your narrow prejudices and morbid memories are all wrong and +vain;--it will tell you that you cannot become the wife of this man, who +would sacrifice you as a solace to his remaining years, without wrecking +your happiness for life. Farewell, Mara Wallingford. There is one thing +you can never forget--that I warned you." + +He bowed low and departed immediately. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +"THE IDEA!" + + +Mara was not the kind of girl that faints or goes into hysterics. The +spirit of her father was aroused to the last degree. She felt that she had +been arraigned and condemned by one who had no right to do either; that +all the cherished traditions of her life had been trampled upon; that her +father's loved companion-in-arms, and her dear friend, had been insulted. +Even wise, saintly Mrs. Bodine, her genial counsellor, had been ignored. +"Was there ever such monstrous assumption!" she cried, as she paced back +and forth with clinched hands. + +She soon heard the step of Mrs. Hunter, and became outwardly calm. + +"Well?" said her aunt. + +"He won't come again, nor shall I speak to him again. Let these facts +content you, aunty." + +"That much at least is satisfactory," said Mrs. Hunter, "but I think it +was a wretched mistake to see him at all." + +"It was not a mistake, for he has revealed the depths into which a man can +sink who adopts his course. I have some respect for an out-and-out +Northerner, brought up as such; but it does seem that when a man turns +traitor, as it were, he goes to greater lengths than those whose camp he +joins. He suspects those who are too noble for him to understand." + +"Whom does Mr. Clancy suspect?" + +"Oh, all of us. He came to advise me as an unprotected, unfriended, +unguided girl." + +"Was there ever such impudence on the face of the earth!" + +Mara sank exhausted into a chair in the inevitable reaction from her +strong excitement. + +"Aunty, it is all over, and we shall not meet again except as strangers. +Never say a word of his coming, of this interview, to any one. It is my +affair, and I wish to forget it as far as possible." + +"You know I'm not a gossip, Mara, about family matters, especially +disagreeable matters. Well, perhaps it will turn out for the best, since +you have broken with him entirely. It always made me angry that he should +continue to speak to you, and even sit down and talk to you at an evening +company, when you could not repulse him without arresting the attention of +every one." + +"Good-night, aunty. All that is over." + +"Mara, you must take an opiate to-night." + +"Yes; give me something to make me sleep, that will bring oblivion for at +least to-night. I must be ready for my work in the morning. It won't take +me long _now_ to attain self-control." + +"Mara," cried Ella the next day, "you look positively ill. I wish you +could take a rest. Suppose we shut up shop for a while, and hang out a +sign, 'closed for repairs.'" + +"No, Ella. I can stand it, if you can, till August, and then we will take +a month's rest. I wasn't very well last night, but I have found a remedy +which is going to help me, and I shall be better." + +Ella took the surface meaning of these words, and, being preoccupied with +her own thoughts, remained, as well as Mara, rather silent that morning. +Although she assured herself more than once that George Houghton was +"nothing to her," she found herself thinking a great deal about him, and +what she termed "their droll experiences." Prone to take a mirthful view +of everything, she often laughed over the whole affair, and it grew rather +than lost in interest with time. It was the first real adventure of her +girlhood, and he was the first man who had retained more than a transient +place in her thoughts. Feeling that their acquaintance had come about +through no fault of hers, she was disposed to get all the fun possible out +of what had occurred. + +The morning was warm, and she was working in charming _dishabille_. +Dressed in light summer costume, thrown open at her throat, and with +sleeves rolled to her shoulders, she appeared a veritable Hebe. Her +bright, golden, fluffy hair was gathered carelessly into a Grecian knot, +and her flushed face received more than one flour-mark as she impatiently +brushed away the flies. Seeing her smiling to herself so often, Mara +envied her, but made no comment. At last the girl broke into a ringing +laugh. + +"What is amusing you so greatly?" Mara asked. + +"I can't get over that party at Mrs. Willoughby's. It was all so +irresistibly comical. Cousin Sophy thinks she has a genius for choosing +chaperons, and so she has, but fate is too strong for men and gods, not to +mention saintly and secluded old ladies. I had scarcely more than entered +the drawing-room, and taken my bearings, as cousin would say, when the +worst Vandal of the lot is marched up to me, and I--green little +girl--thought I must be polite to him and every one else. When I think of +it all, I see that my chaperon was like a distressed hen with a duckling +that would go into the water. Without any effort of mine, that great Goth, +Mr. Houghton, submitted himself to my inspection, and instead of being +horrified, I have been laughing at him ever since. He struck me as an +exceedingly harmless creature, with large capabilities for blundering. He +would not step on a fly maliciously, yet poor Mrs. Robertson acted as if I +were near an ogre who might devour me at a mouthful. How she did manoeuvre +to keep that big fellow away! and what a homily she gave me on our way +home! It all seems so absurd. I wish papa would not take such things so +seriously, for I can't see any harm in making sport of the Philistines." + +"Making sport _for_ the Philistines--that is what your father and what we +all object to. This young Houghton would very gladly amuse himself at your +expense." + +"I'd like to see him try it," said Ella defiantly. "I'd turn the tables on +him so quickly as to take away his breath." + +"Oh, Ella! why do you think about such people at all?" + +"Because they amuse me. What's the harm in thinking about him in my jolly +way? There's nothing bad about him. His worst crimes are, that he is +comical and the son of his father." + +"How do you know there's nothing bad about him?" + +"For the same reason that I distrust Miss Ainsley. Each makes an +impression which I believe is correct." + +"Well, well, Ella," said Mara, a little impatiently, "laugh it out and +have done with him. For all our sakes, please have nothing more to do with +such people." + +"I haven't sought 'such people,'" replied Ella, with a shrug; "but I tell +you, Mara, I'm not going through life with my eyes shut, nor am I going to +look through a pair of blue spectacles. See here, sweetheart, what did God +give me eyes for? What did he give me a brain for? To see through some one +else's eyes? to think with the brain of another? No, indeed; that's +contrary to such reason and common-sense as I possess." + +"You certainly will be guided by your father?" + +"Yes, yes, indeed, in all that pertains to his welfare and happiness. I +could die for him this minute, and would if it were required. But there +are things which I cannot do for him or any one. I cannot ignore my own +conscience and sense of right. I cannot think his thoughts any more than +he can think mine. You dear, melancholy little goose, don't you know that +God never rolls two people into one, even after they are married? They +are, or should be, one in a vital sense, yet they are different, +independent beings, and were made so. I'd like to know of any one in this +town more bent upon having her own way than you." + +Mara was silent, for Ella had a way of putting things which disturbed her. + +"Cousin Sophy," said Ella in the afternoon, "hasn't the proper time come +for me to make my party call on Mrs. Willoughby? You are my Mentor in all +that relates to etiquette, and that giddy fraction of the world termed +society." + +"Well, yes," said the old lady, "I suppose it is time. In the case of Mrs. +Willoughby it will be little more than a formality, for she is an +acquaintance you will not care to cultivate. You may be lucky enough to +find her out, and then your card will answer all the purposes of a call." + +"Oh, I know that much, cousin, if I am from the wilds of the interior; but +if she is in, I suppose I should sit down and talk about the weather a +little while." + +"Go along, you saucy puss. Tell her how shocked you were to see old +Houghton's son in her parlors." + +"Well, I was at first. Bah! cousin, he's a great big boy, and doesn't know +any more than I do about some things." + +"Well added. Tell her, then, we have enough Southern gentlemen remaining, +and there is no necessity of inviting big Northern hobble-de-hoys." + +"Oh! I didn't mean that, cousin. Be fair now. He was gentlemanly enough, +as much so as the rest of them, but he was young and giddy, like myself, +just as you used to be and are now sometimes;" and she stopped the old +lady's mouth with kisses, then ran to dress for the street. + +The kitchen Hebe of the morning was soon metamorphosed into a very +charmingly costumed young woman. + +Even Miss Ainsley was compelled to recognize the lovely and harmonious +effect, although it did not bear the latest brand of fashion, or represent +costly expenditure. + +Both she and Mrs. Willoughby were pleased as Ella stepped lightly into the +back parlor, and the young girl congratulated herself that she had come so +opportunely, for they were evidently expecting visits like her own. + +One and another dropped in until Mrs. Willoughby was entertaining three or +four in the front parlor. Miss Ainsley remained chatting with Ella, who +felt that the Northern girl's remarks were largely tentative, evincing a +wish to draw her out. Shrewd Ella soon began to generalize to such a +degree that Miss Ainsley thought, "You are no fool," and had a growing +respect for the "little baker," as she had termed the young girl. + +Then Clancy appeared, and Ella was forgotten, but she saw the same +unmistakable welcome which from some women would mean all that a lover +could desire. Ella thought that a slight expression of vexation crossed +his brow as he recognized in her Mara's partner and friend, but he spoke +to her politely and even cordially. Indeed, no one could do otherwise, for +her face would propitiate an ogre. She thought there was a spice of +recklessness in Clancy's manner, and she heard him remark to Miss Ainsley +that he had come to say good-by for a short time. That young woman led the +way to the balcony and began to expostulate; and then Ella's attention was +riveted on a tall young fellow, who was shaking hands with Mrs. +Willoughby. + +"Good gracious!" she thought, "what can I do if he sees me? How can I +'shake off and avoid' in this back parlor? I can't make a bolt for the +front door or sneak out of the back door; I can't sit here like a graven +image if he comes--" + +"Miss Bodine! Well, I'm lucky for once in my ill-fated life." + +"Oh! I beg your pardon," remarked Ella, turning from the window, out of +which she had apparently been gazing with intense preoccupation. +"Good-afternoon, Mr. Houghton." But he held out his hand with such +imperative cordiality that she had to take it. Then he drew up a chair to +the corner of the sofa on which she sat and placed it in a way that barred +approach or egress. "Oh, shade of Mrs. Hunter!" she groaned inwardly, +"what can I do? I'm fairly surrounded--all avenues of retreat cut off. I +must face the enemy and fight." + +"I knew the chance would come for us to get acquainted," said Houghton, +settling himself complacently in the great armchair, "but I had scarcely +hoped for such a happy opportunity as this so soon." + +"I must go in a few minutes," she remarked demurely. "I have been here +some time." + +"Miss Bodine, you are not capable of such cruelty. You know it is very +early yet." + +"I thought you came to call on Mrs. Willoughby?" + +"So I did, and I have called on her. See her talking ancient history to +those dowagers yonder. What a figure I'd cut in that group." + +She laughed outright, as much from nervous trepidation as at the comical +idea suggested, and was in an inward rage that she did so, for she had +intended to be so dignified and cool as to depress and discourage the +"objectionable person" who hedged her in. + +"What a jolly, infectious laugh you have!" he resumed. "To be able to +laugh well is a rare accomplishment. Some snicker, others giggle, chuckle, +cackle, make all sorts of disagreeable noises, but a natural, merry, +musical laugh-Miss Bodine, I congratulate you, and myself also, that I +happened in this blessed afternoon to hear it. And that terrible chaperon +of yours isn't here either. How she frowned on me the other evening as if +I were a wolf in the fold," and the young man broke into a clear ringing +laugh at the recollection. + +Ella was laughing with him in spite of herself. Indeed the more she tried +to be grave and severe the more impossible it became. + +"Mr. Houghton," she managed to say at last, "will you do me a favor?" + +"Scores of them." + +"Then stop making me laugh. I don't wish to laugh." + +His face instantly assumed such portentous and awful gravity that he set +her off again to such a degree that the dowagers in the other room looked +at her rebukingly. It was bad enough, they thought, that she should talk +to old Houghton's son at all, but to show such unbecoming levity-well, it +was not what they would "expect of a Bodine." Ella saw their disapproval, +and felt she was losing her self-control. The warnings she had received +against her companion embarrassed her, and banished the power to be her +natural self. + +"Please don't," she gasped, "or I shall go at once. I asked a favor." + +"Pardon me, Miss Bodine," he now said in a tone and manner which quieted +her nerves at once. "I have blundered again, but I was so happy to think +that I had met you here. I am not wholly a rattle-brain. What would you +like to talk about?" and he looked so kindly and eager to please her that +she cast down her eyes and contracted her brow in deepest perplexity. + +"Truly, Mr. Houghton, I should be on my way homeward, and you have so +hedged me in that I cannot escape." + +"Is running away from me escaping?" + +"I don't like that phrase 'running away.'" + +"Yet that is what you propose to do." + +"Oh, no, I shall take my departure in a very composed and dignified +manner." + +His face had the expression of almost boyish distress. "You find on +further thought that you cannot forgive me?" he asked sadly. + +"Did I not say that was all explained and settled? Southern girls are not +fickle or false to their word." And she managed to assume an aspect of +great dignity. "If I do not shake him off in the next few minutes I'm +lost," she thought. + +"I've offended you again," he said anxiously. + +She took refuge in silence. + +"Miss Bodine, I ask your pardon. You know I can't do more than that, or if +I can, tell me what. I wish to please you very much." + +The girl was at her wit's end, for his ingenuous expression emphasized the +truth of his words. "There is no reason why you should please me," she +began coolly, and then knew not how to proceed. + +"Let us be frank with each other," he resumed earnestly. "We are too young +yet to indulge in society lies. When a man apologizes at the North he is +forgiven. I have been told that Southerners are a generous, warm-hearted +people. In their cool treatment of me they counteract the climate. Are +you, too, going to ostracize me?" + +"I fear I shall have to," she replied faintly. + +"Of your own free will?" + +"No, indeed." + +His heart gave a great throb of joy, but he had the sense to conceal his +gladness. He only said quietly, "Well, I'm glad that you at least do not +detest me." + +"Why should I detest you, Mr. Houghton?" + +"I'm sure I don't know why any one should. I have never harmed any one in +this town that I know of." + +She knew not how to answer, for she could not reflect upon his father. + +"I don't care about others, but your case." + +"Truly, Mr. Houghton," she began hastily, "this is a large city. A few +impoverished Southern people are nothing to you." + +"I was not thinking of Southern people," he replied gravely. "You said a +moment since you saw no reason why I should try to please you. Am I to +blame if you have inspired many reasons? I know you better than any girl +in the world. You revealed your very self in a moment of danger to me as +you thought. I saw that you were good and brave--that you possess just the +qualities that I most respect and admire in a woman. Every moment I am +with you confirms this belief. Why should I not wish to please you, to +become your friend? I know I should be the better in every respect if you +were my friend." + +She shook her head, but did not venture to look at him. + +"You believe I am sincere, Miss Bodine. You cannot think I am sentimental +or flirtatious. I would no more do you wrong, even in my thoughts, than I +would think evil of my dead mother. You are mirthful in your nature; so am +I, but I do not think that either of us is shallow or silly. If I am +personally disagreeable, that ends everything, but how can a man secure +the esteem and friendly regard of a woman, when he covets these supremely, +unless he speaks and reveals his feelings?" + +"You are talking wildly, Mr. Houghton," said Ella, with averted face. "We +have scarcely more than met." + +"You would lead me to think that you Southern people are tenfold colder +and more deliberate than we of the North. You may not have thought of me +since we met, but I have thought of you constantly. I could not help it." + +Ella felt that she must escape now as if for her life, and, summoning all +her faculties and resolution, she said, looking him in the eyes, "I've no +doubt, Mr. Houghton, you think you are sincere in your words at this +moment, but you may soon wonder that you spoke such hasty words." + +"In proving you mistaken, time will be my ally." + +"You have asked me to be frank," she resumed. "In justice to you and +myself I feel that I must be so. I do not share in the prejudices, if you +prefer that word, of my father, but I must be governed by his wishes. I +trust that you will not ask me to say more. Won't you please let me go +now? See, the last guests are leaving." + +"Tell me one thing," he pleaded eagerly as he rose. "I am not personally +disagreeable to you?" + +"The idea of my telling you anything of the kind!" and there was a flash +of mirthfulness in her face which left him in a most tormenting state of +uncertainty. A moment later she had shaken hands with Mrs. Willoughby, and +was gone. + +He stood looking after her, half-dazed by his conflicting feelings. +Turning, Mrs. Willoughby saw and understood him at once. She came to his +side and said kindly, "Sit down, Mr. Houghton, I've not had a chance to +talk with you yet." + +With an involuntary sigh he complied. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +FEMININE FRIENDS + + +Mrs. Willoughby was a woman of the world, yet in no bad sense. Indeed, +beneath the veneer of fashionable life she possessed much kindliness of +nature. She was capable of a good deal of cynicism toward those who she +said "ought to be able to take care of themselves," and in this category +she placed Clancy and Miss Ainsley. "I shall leave both to paddle their +own canoes," she had said to herself. + +Looking kindly at Houghton, who seemed to have lost his volubility, and +waited for her to speak again, she thought: "If this young fellow was +infatuated with Caroline I'd warn him quick enough." With the astuteness +of a matron she merely remarked: "You seem greatly pleased with my little +friend, Miss Bodine. You must not trifle with her, if she is poor, for she +comes of one of the best families in the State." + +"Trifle with Miss Bodine! What do you take me for, Mrs. Willoughby?" and +he rose indignantly. + +"There, now, sit down, my friend. I only said that so you might reveal how +sincere you are, and I won't use any more diplomacy with you." + +"I hope not," he replied laughing grimly. "You ought to know, what I am +fast finding out, that a young fellow, like me, can no more understand a +woman, unless she is frank, than he can Choctaw." + +Mrs. Willoughby laughed heartily, and said: "I'll be frank with you, if +you will be so with me." + +"Then tell me why I am treated by so many in your set as if I had overrun +the South with fire and sword?" + +His first question proved that she could not be frank, for in order to +give an adequate explanation she would have to reveal to him his father's +animus and the hostility it evoked. She temporized by saying: "I do not so +treat you, and surely Miss Bodine seemed to enjoy your conversation." + +"I'm not so sure of that. At any rate she said she would have to ostracize +me like the rest." + +"She was kind in telling you that she would have to do so. She certainly +bears you no ill-will." + +"She probably does not care enough about me yet to do that. The worst of +it is that I shall have no chance. Her father objects to her having +anything to do with me, and that blocks everything. Even if I were capable +of seeking a clandestine acquaintance, she is not. She is a thoroughly +good girl; she doesn't know how to be deceitful." + +"I'm glad you appreciate her so truly." + +"I'd be a donkey if I didn't." + +"Well, don't be unwise in your future action." + +"What action can I take?" and he looked at her almost imploringly. A young +man of his age is usually very ready to make a confidante of a married +woman older than himself, yet young enough to sympathize with him in +affairs of the heart. Houghton instinctively felt that the case might not +be utterly hopeless if he could secure an ally in Mrs. Willoughby, for he +recognized her tact, and believed that she was friendly. He promptly +determined therefore to seek and to take her advice. + +She looked at him searchingly as she said: "Perhaps it would be best not +to take any action at all. If Miss Bodine has made only a passing and +pleasant impression, and you merely desire to secure another agreeable +acquaintance you had better stop where you are. It will save you much +annoyance, and, what is of far more consequence, may keep her from real +trouble. As you suggest, you cannot do anything in an underhand way. If +you attempted it, you would lose her respect instantly, your own also. She +idolizes her father, and will not act contrary to his wishes. Why not let +the matter drop where it is?" + +"Can't take any such advice as that," he replied, shaking his head +resolutely. + +"Why not?" + +"Oh, confound it! Suppose some one, years ago, had advised Mr. Willoughby +in such style." + +"Is it as serious as that?" + +He passed his hand in perplexity over his brow. "Mrs. Willoughby," he +burst out, "I'm in deep water. 'I reckon,' as you say here, you understand +me better than I do myself. I only know that I'd face all creation for the +sake of that girl, yet what you say about making her trouble, staggers me. +I'm in sore perplexity, and don't know what to do." + +"Will you take my advice?" + +"Yes, I will, as long as I believe you are my honest friend, as long as I +can." + +"Well, you won't try to see Ella before you have consulted me?" + +"I promise that." + +"Don't do anything at present Think the matter over quietly and +conscientiously. I'm sorry I must make one other suggestion. I fear your +father would be as much opposed to all this as Captain Bodine himself." + +"I think not. My father is not so stern as he seems. At least he is not +stern to me, and he has let me spend more money than my neck's worth. I +fancy he is well disposed toward Captain Bodine, for he has given him +employment. I asked the old gentleman about it one day, but he changed the +subject. He wouldn't have employed the captain, however, unless he was +interested in him some way." + +"Why wouldn't he?" + +"Oh, well, he naturally prefers to have Northerners about him." + +"Will you permit me to be a little more frank than I have been?" + +"I supposed you were going to be altogether frank." + +"For fear of hurting your feelings I have not been. Your father is not +friendly to us, and we reciprocate. This makes it harder for you." + +Houghton thought in silence for a few moments, and then said: "You should +make allowance for an old man, half heart-broken by the death of his +oldest son, drowned in the bay there." + +"I do; so would others, if he were not vindictive, if he did not use his +great financial strength against us." + +"I don't think he does this, certainly not to my knowledge. He only seeks +to make all he can, like other business men." + +"Mr. Houghton, you haven't been very much in Charleston. Even your +vacations have been spent mainly elsewhere, I think, and your mind has +been occupied with your studies and athletics. You are more familiar with +Greek and Roman history than with ours, and you cannot understand the +feelings of persons like Captain Bodine and his cousin, old Mrs. Bodine, +who passed through the agony of the war, and lost nearly +everything--kindred, property, and what they deem liberty. You cannot +understand your own father, who lost his son. You think of the present and +future." + +Houghton again sighed deeply as he said: "I admit the force of all you +say. I certainly cannot feel as they do, nor perhaps understand them." +Then he added: "I wouldn't if I could. Why should I tie the millstone of +the past about my neck?" + +"You should not do so; but you must make allowance for those to whom that +past is more than the present or future can be." + +"Why can't they forgive and forget, as far as possible, as you do?" + +"Because people are differently constituted. Besides, young man, I am not +old enough to be your grandmother. I was very young at the time of the +war, and have not suffered as have others." + +"Grandmother, indeed! I should think that Mr. Willoughby would fall in +love with you every day." + +"The grand passion has a rather prominent place in your thoughts just now. +Some day you will be like Mr. Willoughby, and cotton, stocks, or their +equivalents, will take a very large share of your thoughts." + +"Well, that day hasn't come yet. Even the wise man said there was a time +for all things. How long must my probation last before I can come back for +more advice?" + +"A week, at least" + +"Phew!" + +"You must think it all over, as I said before, calmly and conscientiously. +I have tried to enable you to see the subject on all its sides, and I tell +you again that you may find just as much opposition from your father as +from Captain Bodine. He may have very different plans for you. Ella Bodine +has nothing but her own good heart to give you, supposing you were able to +persuade her to give that much." + +"That much would enrich me forever." + +"Your father wouldn't see it in that light. He may call her that designing +little baker." + +"I hope he won't for God's sake. I never said a hot word to my father." + +"Never do so, then. If you lose your temper, all is lost. But we are +anticipating. Sober, second thoughts may lead you to save yourself and +others a world of trouble." + +"Oh! I've had second thoughts before. Good-by. At this hour, one week +hence;" and he shook hands heartily. + +A moment later, he came rushing back from the hall, exclaiming: "There! +See, what a blunderbuss I am! I forgot to thank you, which I do, with all +my heart." + +"Ah!" sighed the mature woman, as her guest finally departed, "I'd take +all his pains for the possibilities of his joys." + +Ella had not been mistaken in thinking that she detected a trace of +recklessness in Clancy's manner. He had been compelled to believe that +Mara was in truth lost to him; that her will and pride would prove +stronger than her heart. Indeed, he went so far as to believe that her +heart, as far as he was concerned, was not giving her very much trouble. + +"I fear she has become so morbid and warped by the malign influences that +have surrounded her from infancy," he had thought, "that she cannot love +as I love. My best hope now is, that when Bodine begins to show his game +more clearly, she will remember my words. It's horrible to think that she +may develop into a woman like Mrs. Hunter. Until this evening, I have +always believed there was a sweet, womanly soul imprisoned in her bosom, +but now I don't know what to think. I'll go off to the mountains on the +pretence of a fishing excursion, and get my balance again." + +The following morning had been spent in preparations, and the afternoon, +as we have seen, found him at Mrs. Willoughby's. His sore heart and bitter +mood were solaced by Miss Ainsley's unmistakable welcome. He knew he did +not care for her in any deep and lasting sense, and he much doubted +whether her interest in him was greater than that which she had bestowed +upon others in the past. But she diverted his thoughts, flattered the +self-love which Mara had wounded so ruthlessly, and above all fascinated +him by her peculiar beauty and intellectual brilliancy. + +"Why are you going away?" she asked reproachfully, when they were seated +on the balcony. + +"Oh, I've been working hard. I'm going off to the mountains to fish and +rest." + +"I hope you'll catch cold, and come back again soon." + +"What a disinterested friend!" + +"You are thinking only of yourself; why shouldn't I do likewise?" + +"No, I'm thinking of you." + +"Of course, at this minute. You'd be apt to think of a lamp-post if you +were looking at it." + +"Please don't put out the sunshine with your brilliancy." + +"Ironical, too! What is the matter to-day?" + +"What penetration! Reveal your intuitions. Have I failed in business, or +been crossed in love?" + +"The latter, I fancy." + +"Well, then, how can I better recover peace of mind and serenity than by +going a-fishing? You know what Izaak Walton says--" + +"Oh, spare me, please, that ancient worthy! You are as cold-blooded as any +fish that you'll catch. If I find it stupid in Charleston I'll go North." + +"That threat shakes my very soul. I promise to come back in a week or ten +days." + +"Or a month or so," she added, looking hurt. + +"Come, my good friend," he said, laughing. "We're too good fellows, as you +wished we should be, to pretend to any forlornness over a parting of this +kind. You will sleep as sweetly and dreamlessly as if you had never seen +Owen Clancy, and I will write you a letter, such as a man would write to a +man, telling you of my adventures. If I don't meet any I'll bring some +about--get shot by the moonlighters, save a mountain maid from drowning in +a trout pool, or fall into the embrace of a black bear." + +"The mountain maid, you mean." + +"Did I? Well, your penetration passes bounds." + +"You may go, if you will write the letter. There must be no dime-novel +stories in it, no drawing on your imagination. It shall be your task to +make interesting just what you see and do." + +"Please add the twelve labors of Hercules." + +"No trifling. I'm in earnest, and put you on your mettle in regard to that +letter. Unless you do your best, your friendship is all a pretence. And +remember what you said about its being a letter to a man. If you begin in +a conventional way, as if writing to a lady, I'll burn it without +reading." + +"Agreed. Good-by, old fellow--beg pardon, Miss Ainsley." + +She laughed and said, "I like that; good-by." And she gave him a warm, +soft hand, in a rather lingering clasp. + +When he was gone she murmured softly, "Yes, he has a chance." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +ELLA'S CRUMB OF COMFORT + + +Ella walked up Meeting Street in a frame of mind differing widely from the +complacent mood in which she sought Mrs. Willoughby's residence. The +unexpected had again happened, and to her it seemed so strange, so very +remarkable, that she should have met Mr. Houghton once more without the +slightest intention, or even expectation, on her part, that she was +perplexed and troubled. What did it mean? + +In matters purely personal, and related closely to our own interests, we +are prone to give almost a superstitious significance to events which come +about naturally enough. It was not at all strange that Houghton should +have been strongly and agreeably impressed by Ella from the first; and +that he should happen to call at the same hour that she did, would have +been regarded by her as a very ordinary coincidence, had not the case been +her own. Since it was her own, she was almost awed by the portentous +interview from which she had just escaped. The inexperienced girl found +her cherished ideas in respect to young Houghton completely at fault. She +had sighed that she could not meet him without restraint or embarrassment, +for, as she had assured herself, "It would be such fun." She had supposed +that she could laugh at him and with him indefinitely--that he would be a +source of infinite jest and amusement. He had banished all these illusions +in a few brief moments. How could she make sport of a man who had coupled +her name with that of his dead mother? His every glance, word, and tone +expressed sincere respect and admiration, and, she had to admit to +herself, something more. She was so sincere herself, so unsullied, so +lacking in the callousness often resulting from much contact with the +world, that it seemed to her that it would be a profanation henceforth to +regard him as the butt of even the innocent ridicule of which she was +capable. Yet in all her perplexity and trouble there was a confused +exhilaration and a glad sense of power. + +"To think that I, little Ella Bodine, a baker by trade," she thought, +"should have inspired that big fellow to talk as he did! He is apology +embodied, and seems far more afraid of me than he was of that great bully +on the street." And she bent her head to conceal a laugh of exultation. + +Then she remembered her father, and her face grew troubled. "I shall have +to tell him," she murmured, "and then the old scene will be enacted over +again. A plague on that old shadow of the war! If I were a man I'd fight +it out and then shake hands." + +Soon after reaching home she heard her father's crutches on the sidewalk, +and ran down to meet him. In accordance with her custom, she took away one +crutch, and supported him to a chair in the parlor. He kissed her fondly, +and remarked, "You look a little pale, Ella." + +"I feel pale, papa. I've something to tell you, and you must listen +patiently and sensibly. I've met Mr. Houghton again." + +The veteran's face darkened instantly, but he waited till she explained +further. + +"Now see how you begin to look," she resumed. "You are judging me already. +You can't be even fair to your own child." + +"It would rather seem that you are judging me, Ella." + +"Oh, bother it all!" she exclaimed. "I wish I could be simple and natural +in this affair, for I was so embarrassed and constrained that I fear I +acted like a fool. Well, I'll tell you how it happened. After lunch I +asked Cousin Sophy if it was not time for me to make my party call on Mrs. +Willoughby, and she said it was. I found that Mrs. Willoughby was +expecting callers. We chatted a few minutes, and then others came, Mr. +Houghton among them. I no more expected to meet him than I expected to +meet you there. After shaking hands with Mrs. Willoughby he came to me in +the back parlor instantly, and drew up a chair so that I could not escape +unless I jumped over him. He began with such funny speeches that I got +laughing, as much from nervousness as anything else, for I'd been so +warned against him that I couldn't be myself." + +"You shall not go to Mrs. Willoughby's again," said her father, decidedly. + +"Now please listen till I'm all through. He soon saw that I did not want +to laugh, and stopped his nonsense. He wanted to become acquainted, +friendly, you know; and finally I had to tell him that it couldn't +be--that I must be governed by your wishes." + +"Ah, that was my dear, good, sensible girl!" + +"No, papa, I don't feel sensible at all. On the contrary, I have a mean, +absurd feeling--just as if I had gone to Mrs. Willoughby's and slapped a +child because it was a Northern child." + +He laughed at this remark, for she unconsciously gave the impression that +she had been more repellant than had actually been true. He soon checked +himself, however, and said gravely, "Ella, you take these things too +seriously." + +"No, papa, it seems to me that it is you and Cousin and Mara who take +these things too seriously. What harm has that young fellow ever done any +of us?" + +"He could do me an immense deal of harm if you gave him your thoughts, and +became even friendly. I should be exceedingly unhappy." + +"Oh, well! that isn't possible--I mean, that we should become friendly. I +certainly won't permit him to speak to me in the streets, although I spoke +to him once in the street. Oh, I'm going to tell you everything now!" and +she related the circumstances of her first meeting with Houghton. + +"All this is very painful to me," her father said, with clouded brow. +"But, as you say, it has come about without intention on your part. I am +glad you have told me everything, for now I can better guard you from +future mischances. My relations to this young man's father are such that +it would make it very disagreeable, indeed, positively unendurable, if his +son should seek your society. You should also remember that Mr. Houghton +would be as bitterly hostile to any such course on his son's part as I am. +Your pride, apart from my wishes, should lead you to repel the slightest +advance." + +"I reckon your wishes will have the most influence, papa. I have too +strong a sense of justice to punish the son on account of his father." + +"You cannot separate them, Ella. Think of our own relation. What touches +one touches the other." + +"Well, papa, it's all over, and I've told you everything. Since I'm not to +go to Mrs. Willoughby's any more, there is little probability that I shall +meet him again, except in the street. If he bows to me, I shall return the +courtesy with quiet dignity, for he has acted like a gentleman toward me, +and, for the sake of my own self-respect, I must act like a lady toward +him. If he seeks to talk to me, I shall tell him it is forbidden, and that +will end it, for he is too honorable to attempt anything clandestine." + +"I'm not sure of that." + +"I am, papa. He wouldn't be such an idiot, for he understands me well +enough to know what would be the result of that kind of thing. But he +isn't that kind of a man." + +"How should you know what kind of a man he is?" + +"Oh, Heaven has provided us poor women with intuitions!" + +"True, to a certain extent, but the rule is proved by an awful lot of +exceptions." + +"Perhaps if they were studied out, inclinations rather than intuitions +were followed." + +"Well, my dear, we won't discuss these vague questions. Your duty is as +simple and clear as mine is. Do as you have promised, and all will be +well. I must now dress for dinner." And kissing her affectionately, he +went up to his room. + +She took his seat, and looked vacantly out of the window, with a vague +dissatisfaction at heart. Unrecognized fully as yet, the great law of +nature, which brings to each a distinct and separate existence, was +beginning to operate. As she had said to Mara, vital interests were +looming up, new experiences coming, of which she could no more think his +thoughts than he hers. + +Her face was a little clouded when she sat down to dinner, and she +observed Mrs. Bodine looking at her keenly. Instinctively she sought to +conceal her deeper feelings, and to become her mirthful self. + +"You have not told me about your call yet," the old lady remarked. + +"Well, I felt that papa should have the first recital. I met again the son +of that old--ahem!--Mr. Houghton, and I have begun to ostracize him." + +"Ella," said her father, almost sternly, "do not speak in that way. Our +feelings are strong, sincere, and well-grounded." + +"There, papa, I did not mean to reflect lightly upon them. Indeed, I was +not thinking of them, but of Mr. Houghton." + +"Oh, Cousin Hugh! let the child talk in her own natural way. She wouldn't +scratch one of your crutches with a pin, much less hurt you." + +"Forgive me, Ella," he said, "I misunderstood you." + +"Yes, in the main, papa, but to be frank, I don't enjoy this ostracizing +business, and I hope I won't have any more of it to do." + +"There is no reason why you should. Cousin Sophy, there should be people +enough in Charleston for Ella to visit without the chance of meeting Mr. +Houghton, or any of his ilk." + +"So there are. I'll manage that. Well, Ella, how did you set about +ostracizing young Houghton?" And the old lady began to laugh. + +"It's no laughing matter," said Ella, shaking her head ruefully. "He was +frank and polite and respectful as any young gentleman would be under +similar circumstances, and he wanted to become better acquainted, call on +me, I suppose, and all that, but I had to tell him virtually that he was +an objectionable person." + +"I would rather this subject should not be discussed any further," said +her father gravely. + +"So would I," Ella added. "Papa and I have settled the matter, and Mr. +Houghton is to recede below the horizon." + +The old lady thought that when Ella was alone with her she would get all +the details of the interview, but she was mistaken. The girl not only grew +more and more averse to speaking of Houghton, but she also felt that what +he had said so frankly and sincerely to her was not a proper theme for +gossip, even with kindly old Mrs. Bodine, and that a certain degree of +loyalty was due to him, as well as to her father and cousin. + +The captain had some writing on hand that night, and Ella read aloud to +her cousin till it was time to retire. Apparently the evening passed +uneventfully away; yet few recognize the eventful hours of their lives. A +subtle and mysterious change was taking place in the girl's nature which +in time she would recognize. More than once she murmured, "How can I be +hostile to him? He said he could no more do me wrong, even in his +thoughts, than think evil of his dead mother. He said he would be better +if I were his friend, and he is as good-hearted this minute as I am. Yet I +must treat him as if he were not fit to be spoken to. Well, I reckon it +will hurt me as much as it does him. There's some comfort in that." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +RECOGNIZED AS LOVER + + +It was inevitable that Mara should pay the penalty of being at variance +with nature and her own heart. The impulses of youth had been checked and +restrained. Instead of looking forward, like Ella, she was turning ever +backward, and drawing her inspiration from the past, and a dead, hopeless +past, at that. It fell upon her like a shadow. All its incentive tended +toward negation, prompting her to frown on changes, progress, and the +hopefulness springing up in many hearts. The old can hug their gloom in a +sort of complacent misanthropy; the young cannot. If they are unhappy they +chafe, and feel in their deepest consciousness that something is wrong. +Mara laid the blame chiefly upon Clancy, believing that, if he had taken +the course adopted by Captain Bodine, she could have been happy with him +in an attic. His words, at their interview, were not the only causes of +her intense indignation and passion. Although she was incensed to the last +degree, that he should charge Captain Bodine with such "preposterous" +motives and intentions, she was also aware that her fierce struggles with +her own heart, at the time, distracted and confused her. She could not +maintain the icy demeanor she had resolved upon. + +Left to herself, the long afternoon and evening of the following day, she +had time for many second thoughts. She was compelled to face in solitude +the hard problems of her life. Anger died out, and its support was lost. +She had driven away the only man she loved, or could ever love, and she +had used language which he could never forget, or be expected to forgive. +The more she thought of his motive in seeking the interview, the more +perplexed and troubled she became. As now in calmer mood she recalled his +words and manner, she could not delude herself with the belief that he +came only in his own behalf, or that he was prompted by jealousy. She +remembered the grim frankness with which he said virtually that he had +nothing to hope from her, not even tolerance. She almost writhed under the +fact that he had again compelled her to believe that, however mistaken, he +was sincere and straightforward, that he truly thought that Bodine was +lover rather than friend. + +She would not, could not, imagine that this was true, and yet she groaned +aloud, "He has destroyed my chief solace. I was almost happy with my +father's friend, and was coming to think of him almost as a second father. +Now, when with him I shall have a miserable self-consciousness, and a +disposition to interpret his words and manner in a way that will do him +hateful wrong. Oh, what is there for me to look forward to? What is the +use of living?" + +These final words indicated one of Mara's chief needs. She craved some +motive, some powerful incentive, which could both sustain and inspire. +Mere existence, with its ordinary pleasures and interests, did not satisfy +her at all. Clancy's former question in regard to her devotion to the past +and the dead, "What goodwill it do?" haunted her like a spectre. He had +again made the dreary truth more clear, that there was nothing in the +future to which she could give the strong allegiance of her soul. She +would work for nothing, suffer for nothing, hope for nothing, except her +daily bread. As she said, the friendship of Bodine was but a solace, great +indeed, but inadequate to the deep requirements of a nature like hers. She +knew she was leading a dual life--cold, reserved, sternly self-restrained +outwardly, yet longing with passionate desire for the love she had +rejected, and, since that was impossible, for something else, to which she +could consecrate her life, with the feeling that it was worth the +sacrifice. If she had been brought up in the Roman Catholic religion, she +might have been led to the austere life of a nun. But, in her morbid +condition, she was incapable of understanding the wholesome faith, the +large, sweet liberty of those who remain closely allied to humanity in the +world, yet purifying and saving it, by the sympathetic tenderness of Him +who had "compassion on the multitude." She had still much to learn in the +hard school of experience. + +The next day, Ella was nothing like so voluble as usual. Little frowns and +moments of deep abstraction took the place of the mirthful smiles of the +day before. Nevertheless, her strong love for Mara led her to speak quite +freely of her experience during her call at Mrs. Willoughby's. As Mara's +closest friend, she felt that reticence was a kind of disloyalty. It was +also true that out of the abundance of her heart she was prone to speak. +At the same time, the belief grew stronger hourly that she had a secret +which she had not revealed, and could not reveal to any one. The more she +thought over Houghton's words and manner, the more sure she became that +his interest in her was not merely a passing fancy. Maidenly reserve, +however, forbade even a hint of what might seem to others a conceited and +indelicate surmise. She therefore gave only the humorous side of her +meeting with Houghton again, and laughed at Mara's vexation. So far from +being afraid of her friend, she rather enjoyed shocking her. At last she +said, "There, Mara, don't take it so to heart. Papa says I must ostracize +him, and so Goth and Vandal he becomes--the absurd idea!" + +"Your father would not require you to do anything absurd." + +"No, not what was absurd to him; but he does not know Mr. Houghton any +more than you do. It's not only absurd, but it's wrong, from my point of +view." + +"Oh, Ella, I'm sorry you feel so different from the rest of us." + +"Why do you feel different from so many others, Mara? It isn't to please +this or that one, or because you have been told to think or to feel thus +and so. You have your views and convictions because you are Mara +Wallingford, and not someone else. Am I made of putty any more than you +are, sweetheart?" + +Her words were like a stab to Mara, for the thought flashed into her mind, +"I have required that Clancy should be putty under my will." Ella, in her +simple common-sense, often made remarks which disturbed Mara's cherished +belief that she was right and Clancy all wrong. + +As a very secondary matter of interest to her, Ella at last began to speak +of Clancy and Miss Ainsley. "If ever a girl courted a man with her eyes +that feminine riddle courts Mr. Clancy. I don't think I ever could be so +far gone as to look at a man as she does at him, unless I was engaged." + +"How does he look at her?" Mara asked with simulated indifference. + +"Oh, there's some freemasonry between them, probably an engagement or an +understanding! She expostulated against his going away as if she had the +right. I don't think he cares for her as I would wish a man to care for +me, for there was a humorous, half-reckless gleam in his eyes. It may be +all natural enough though," she added musingly. "I don't believe Miss +Ainsley could inspire an earnest, reverent love. A man wouldn't associate +her in his thoughts with his dead mother." + +"What a strange expression! What put it into your mind?" + +"Oh," replied Ella hastily, and flushing a little, "I've been told that +Mr. Clancy's parents are dead! A plague on them both, and all people that +I can't understand--I don't mean the dead Clancys, but these two who are +fooling like enough. You should be able to interpret Clancy better than I, +for Cousin Sophy says you were once very good friends." + +"I cannot remain the friend of any one who is utterly out of sympathy with +all that I believe is right and dignified." + +"Well, Mara, forgive me for saying it, but Mr. Clancy may have had +convictions also." + +"Undoubtedly," replied Mara coldly, "but there can be no agreeable +companionship between clashing minds." + +"No, I suppose not," said Ella, laughing; "not if each insists that both +shall think exactly alike. It would be like two engines meeting on the +same track. They must both back out, and go different ways." + +"Well, I've back out," Mara remarked almost sternly. + +"That's like you, Mara dear. Well, well, I hope the war will be over some +day. By the way, papa told me to tell you that he was busy last evening, +but that he would call this afternoon for a breathing with you on the +Battery." + +At the usual hour the veteran appeared. Mara's greeting was outwardly the +same; nevertheless, Clancy's words haunted her, and her old serene +unconsciousness was gone. Now that her faculties were on the alert, she +soon began to recognize subtle, unpremeditated indications of the light in +which Bodine had begun to regard her, and a sudden fear and repugnance +chilled her heart. "Was Clancy right after all?" she began to ask herself +in a sort of dread and presentiment of trouble. Instinctively, and almost +involuntarily, she grew slightly reserved and distant in manner, ceasing +to meet his gaze in her former frank, affectionate way. With quick +discernment he appreciated the change, and thought, "She is not ready yet, +and, indeed, may never be ready." His manner, too, began to change, as a +cloud gradually loses something of its warmth of color. Mara was grateful, +and in her thoughts paid homage to his tact and delicacy. + +"Mara," he said, "has Ella told you of her experiences at Mrs. +Willoughby's?" + +"Yes, quite fully. I should think, however, from her words that you were +more truly her confidant." + +"Yes, she has acted very honorably, just as I should expect she would, and +yet I am anxious about her. I wish she sympathized with us more fully in +our desire to live apart from those who are inseparable in our thoughts +from the memory of 'all our woes,' as Milton writes." + +"I have often expressed just this regret to Ella; but she loves us all, +and especially you, so dearly that I have no anxiety about her action." + +"No, Mara, not her action; I can control that: but I should be sorry +indeed if she became interested in this young man. There is often a +perversity about the heart not wholly amenable to reason." + +Poor Mara thought she knew the truth of this remark if any one did, nor +could she help fancying that her companion had himself in mind when he +spoke. + +"Young Houghton," he resumed, "is beginning to make some rather shy, +awkward advances, as if to secure my favor--a very futile endeavor as you +can imagine. My views are changing in respect to remaining in his father's +employ. The grasping old man would monopolize everything. I believe he +would impoverish the entire South if he could, and I don't feel like +remaining a part of his infernal business-machine." + +"I don't wonder you feel so!" exclaimed Mara warmly. "I don't like to +think of your being there at all." + +"That settles it then," said Bodine quietly. "It would not be wise or +honorable for me to act hastily. I must give Mr. Houghton proper +notification, but I shall at once begin to seek other employment." + +Mara was embarrassed and pained by such large deference to her views, and +her spirits grew more and more depressed with the conviction that Clancy +was right. But she had been given time to think, and soon believed that +her best, her only course, was to ignore that phase of the captain's +regard, and to teach him, with a delicacy equal to his own, that it could +never be accepted. + +"Moreover," resumed Bodine, "apart from my duty to Mr. Houghton--and I +must be more scrupulous toward him than if he were my best friend--I owe +it to Ella and my cousin not to give up the means of support, if I can +honorably help it, until I secure something else. Houghton has held to our +agreement both in spirit and letter, and I cannot complain of him as far +as I am concerned." + +"I have confidence in your judgment, Captain, and I know you will always +be guided by the most delicate sense of honor." + +"I hope so, Mara; I shall try to be, but with the best endeavor we often +make mistakes. To tell the truth I am more anxious about Ella than myself. +This young Houghton is, I fear, a rather hair-brained fellow. I've no +doubt that he is sincere and well-meaning enough as rich and indulged +young men of his class go, but he appears to me to be impetuous, and +inclined to be reckless in carrying out his own wishes. Ella, in her +inexperience, has formed far too good an opinion of him." + +"Well, Captain, I wouldn't worry about it. Ella is honest as the sunshine. +They have scarcely more than met, and she will be guided by you. This +episode will soon be forgotten." + +"Yes, I hope so; I think so. I shall count on your influence, for she +loves you dearly." + +"I know," was the rather sad reply, "but Ella does not think and feel as I +do. I wish she could become interested in some genuine Southern man." + +"That will come in time, all too soon for me, I fear," he said, with a +sigh, "but I must accept the fact that my little bird is fledged, and may +soon take flight. It will be a lonely life when she is gone." + +"She may not go far," Mara answered gently, "and she may enrich you with a +son, instead of depriving you of a daughter." + +He shook his head despondently, and soon afterward accompanied her to her +home. She knew there was something like an appeal to her in his eyes as he +pressed her hand warmly in parting. By simply disturbing the blind +confidence in which she had accepted and loved her father's friend, Clancy +had given her sight. She saw the veteran in a new character, and she was +distressed and perplexed beyond measure. Scarcely able, yet compelled to +believe the truth, she asked herself all the long night, "How can I bear +this new trouble?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +"HEAVEN SPEED YOU THEN" + + +Aun' Sheba and Vilet entered at the usual hour the following day. The +girls smiled and nodded in an absent sort of way, and then the old woman +thought they seemed to forget all about her. She also observed that they +were not so forward with the work as customary, and she watched them +wonderingly yet shrewdly. Suddenly she sprang up, exclaiming, "Lor bress +you, Missy Ella, dat de secon' time you put aw-spice in dat ar dough." + +Both the girls started nervously, and Ella began to laugh. + +"Missy Mara, you fergits some cake in de oben from de way it smell," and +Aun' Sheba drew out cookies as black as herself instead of a delicate +brown. + +Mara looked at them ruefully, and then said, "I must make some more, +that's all." "Wot's de matter wid you bofe, honeys?" the old woman asked +kindly. + +"Politics," Ella blurted out. + +"Polytics! No won'er you'se bofe off de handle. Dere's been only two times +wen I couldn't stan' Unc. nohow. De fust an' wust was wen he get polytics +on de brain, an' belebed dat ole guv'ner Moses was gwine ter lead de culud +people to a promis' lan'. I alus tole him dat his Moses 'ud lead him into +a ditch, an' so he did. De secon' time was wen he got sot on, but you +knows all 'bout dat. You'se bofe too deep fer me. How you git into +polytics I doan see nohow." + +"There, Aun' Sheba, don't you mind Ella's nonsense. We're no more into +politics than you are." + +"You'se inter sump'in den." + +"Yes," said Ella, "we're still carrying on the war." + +"Please don't talk so, Ella." + +"Oh, Mara! I must have my nonsense. You've got the 'storied past'--that's +how it's phrased, isn't it?--to sustain you, and I've only my nonsense." + +"Well, puttin' in aw-spice double is nonsense, shuah nuff," said Aun' +Sheba, looking at the girl keenly. "Wot you want spicin' so fer all't +once, Missy Ella? You peart, an' saucy as eber. I ony wish I could see +Missy Mara lookin' like you." + +"You are getting old and blind, Aun' Sheba. I have a secret sorrow gnawing +at my 'inards,' as you term those organs which keep people awake o' +nights, gazing at the moon." + +"Yes, honey, Aun' Sheba gittin' bery ole an' bery blin', but she see dat +dere's sump'in out ob kilter wid de inards ob you bofe. Well, well, I +s'pose it's none ob de ole woman's business." + +"Ann' Sheba," cried Ella, with an exaggerated sigh, "if you could mend +matters I'd come to you quicker than to any one else, you dear old soul! +Well now, to tell you the honest truth, there isn't very much the matter +with me, and there's a certain doctor that's going to cure me just as sure +as this batter (holding up a spoonful) is going to be cake in ten +minutes." + +"Who dat?" + +"Doctor Time--oh, get out!" At this instant an irate bumble-bee darted in, +and Ella, in a spasmodic effort of self-defence, threw the spoon at it, +and both went flying out of the window. The girl sat down half-crying, +half-laughing in her vexation, while Aun' Sheba shook with mirth in all +her ample proportions. + +"Dat ar cake's gwine to be dough for eber mo', Missy Ella," she said. +"I'se feerd you'se case am bery serus. Yit I worries mo' 'bout Missy Mara. +Heah now, honey, you jes dun beat out. You sit down an' Missy Ella an' +me'll finish up in a jiffy. I reckon Missy Ella ony got a leetle tantrum +dis mawnin, but you'se been a wuckin' an' tinkin' too hard dis long time." + +"Yes, Aun' Sheba," cried Ella, "that's the trouble. Let's you and I take +the business out of her hands for a time, and make her a silent partner." + +"She too silent now. Bofe oh you gittin' ter be silent par'ners. In de +good ole times I'd heah you chatterin' as I come up de stars, an' to-day +you was bofe right smart ways off from dis kitchen in you mins. Mum, mum, +tinkin' deep, bofe ob you. Eysters ud make a racket long ob you uns dis +mawnin'." + +"There, Aun' Sheba," said Mara, kindly, "don't you worry about us. This is +July, and in August we'll take a rest. You deserve and need it as much as +either of us. I'll get well and strong then, and you know it makes people +worse to tell them they don't look well and all that." + +Aun' Sheba gave a sort of dissatisfied grunt, but she helped the girls +through with their tasks in her own deft way, and departed with Vilet, who +was always very quiet and shy except when at home. + +"Well," said Ella, giving herself a little shake, when they were alone, +"I'm going to get over my nonsense at once." + +"What's troubling you, Ella?" + +"Oh, I hardly know myself. What's troubling you? We both seem out of +sorts. Do let us be sensible and jolly. Now if we both had a raging +toothache we'd have some excuse for melancholy. Good-by, dear, I'll be up +with the lark to-morrow, and we'll make a lark of our work;" and she +started homeward, with her cherry lips sternly compressed in her +resolution to be her old mirthful self. In the energy of her purpose she +began to walk faster and faster. "There now, Ella Bodine," she muttered, +"since it's your duty to ostracize and bake, _ostracize_ and _bake_, and +be done with your ridiculous fancies." And she swiftly turned the corner +of a street, as if, under the inspiration of a great purpose, she was +entering upon a new and wiser course. The result was, she nearly ran over +George Houghton. Looking up, she saw him standing, hat in hand, with a +broad, glad smile on his face. + +"You almost equal that express-wagon," he said. "Are you going for the +doctor?" + +Her mouth twitched nervously, but she managed to say, "Good-morning, Mr. +Houghton, I'm in haste," and on she went. He saw her head go down. Was she +laughing or crying? The latter possibility brought him to her side +instantly. + +"Are you in trouble?" he asked very kindly. "Isn't there something--oh, I +see you are laughing at me," and his tones proved that his feelings were +deeply hurt. + +Her mirth ceased at once. "No, Mr. Houghton," she replied, looking up at +him with frank directness, "I was not laughing at _you_, but I could not +help laughing at what you said. I'm in no trouble, nor shall I be +if--if--well, you know what I told you. We must be strangers, you know," +and she went on again as if her feet were winged. + +"I don't know anything of the kind," he muttered, as he turned on his heel +and slowly pursued his way to his father's counting-rooms. Entering he +paused an instant and looked grimly at Bodine, whose head was bent over +his writing. "I'll tackle you next, old gentleman," was his thought. + +Punctually to a minute he called on Mrs. Willoughby when the week had +expired. She looked into his resolute face and surmised before he spoke +that time and reflection had not inclined him to a prudent withdrawal from +a very doubtful suit. Nevertheless she said: "Well, you've had a little +time to think, and you probably see now that your wisest course will be to +give up this little affair utterly." + +"Pardon me, Mrs. Willoughby, I've had an age in which to think, and it's +not a little affair to me. I did not quite understand myself when I last +saw you--it was all so new, strange, and heavenly. But I understand myself +now. Ella Bodine shall be my wife unless she finally rejects me, unless +she herself makes me sure that it's of no use to try. What's more, it will +take years to prove this. As long as she does not belong to another I'll +never give up." + +"She belongs to her father." + +"No, not in this sense. She has the right of every American girl to choose +her husband." + +"Do you mean to defy her father?" + +"No, I mean to go to him like a gentleman, and ask permission to pay my +addresses to his daughter. I mean to do this before I say one word of love +to her." + +"Since you are so resolved upon your course you do not need any more +advice from me." + +"I don't mean that at all. Isn't this the right, honorable course?" + +"Oh, your royalty wishes me to applaud your decrees and decisions," she +said laughing. + +"Now please don't be hard on me, Mrs. Willoughby. I've followed your +advice with all my might for a week." + +"Done nothing with all your might?" + +"Yes, and you couldn't have given me a harder task." + +"Are you of age?" + +"Yes, I am. I'm twenty-two, however immature I may seem to you." + +"Miss Bodine is not of age." + +"Well, I'll wait till she is." + +"Wouldn't that be better? Wait till she is of age, and more capable of +judging and acting for herself. Time may soften her father's feelings, and +your father's also, for, believe me, you are going to have as much trouble +at home as with Captain Bodine, that is, supposing that Ella would listen +to your suit." + +"And while I'm idly biting my nails through the creeping years some +level-headed Southerner will quietly woo and win her. I would deserve to +lose her, should I take such a course." + +"You certainly would have to take that risk; but perhaps you will incur +greater risks by too hasty action." + +"Be sincere with me now, Mrs. Willoughby. I don't believe you women like +timid, pusillanimous men. How could I appear otherwise to Miss Bodine if I +should withdraw, like a growling bear into winter quarters, there to +hibernate indefinitely? The period wouldn't be life to me, scarcely +tolerable existence. What could she know about my motives and feelings? I +tell you my love is as sacred as my faith in God. I'm proud of it, rather +than ashamed. I wish her to know it, no matter what the result may be, and +I don't care if all the world knows it, too." + +"You mean to tell your father then?" + +"Certainly, at the proper time." + +"Suppose you find him utterly opposed to it all?" + +"I do not think I shall; not when he sees my happiness is at stake. He may +fume over it for a time, but when he comes to know Ella she'll disarm him. +Why, it's just as clear to me as that I see you, that she could make the +old gentleman happier than he has been for over a quarter of a century." + +"My poor young friend! I wish I could share in your sanguine feelings." + +"Oh, I'm not so very sanguine about her. What she will do worries me far +more than what the old people will do." + +"Well, you are right there. The old people are the outworks, she the +citadel, which you can never capture unless she chooses to surrender." + +"That's true, but I don't believe she ever would surrender to a man who +was afraid to approach even the outworks." + +Mrs. Willoughby laughed softly as she admitted, "Perhaps you are right." + +"If I'm not, my whole manhood is at fault," he replied earnestly. "Please +tell me, haven't I decided on the right, honorable course--on what would +seem honorable to Captain Bodine and to Ella also?" + +"Yes, if you _will_ act now you can take no other." + +"Well, won't you please approve of it?" + +"Mr. Houghton, I'm not going to be timid and pusillanimous either. Since +you are of age, and will take a perfectly honorable course, I will stand +by you as a friend. I will still counsel you, if you so wish, for I fear +that your troubles have only begun." + +"I thank you from my heart," he said, seizing her hand and pressing it +warmly. "I do need and wish your counsel, for I have very little tact. I +can sail a boat better than I can manage an affair like this." + +"Will you make me one solemn promise?" + +"Yes, if I can." + +"Then pledge me your word that you will not lose your temper with either +Captain Bodine or your father." + +"Oh, I think I can easily do that," he said good-humoredly. + +"You don't know, you can't imagine, how you may be tried." + +"Well, it's a sensible thing you ask, and I've sense enough to know it. I +pledge you my word. If I break it, it will be because I'm pushed beyond +mortal endurance." + +"Mr. Houghton," she said, almost sternly, "you must not break it, no +matter what is said or what happens. You would jeopardize everything if +you did. You might lose Ella's respect." + +He drew a long breath. "You make me feel as if I were going into a very +doubtful battle," he said thoughtfully. + +"It is a very doubtful battle. It certainly will be a hard, and probably a +long one, and you will lose it if you don't keep cool." + +"I can be very firm, I suppose." + +"Yes, as firm and decided as you please, as long as you are quiet and +gentlemanly in your words. Let me say one thing more," she added, very +gravely. "If you enter on this affair, and then, in any kind of weakness +or fickleness, give it up, I shall despise you, and so will all in this +city who know about it. Count the cost. I'm too true a Southerner to look +at you again if you trifle with a Southern girl. Your father will offer +you great inducements to abandon this folly, as he will term it." + +He flushed deeply, but only said, in quiet emphasis, "If I ever give up, +except for reasons satisfactory to you, I shall despise myself far more +than you can despise me." + +"And you give me your word that you will keep your temper to the very +end?" + +"Yes, Heaven helping me, I will." + +"Heaven speed you then, my friend." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +CONSTERNATION + + +Young Houghton was like a high-mettled steed, from which the curb had been +removed. His temperament, even more than the impatience of youth, led him +to chafe at delay, and Ella appeared so lovely, so exactly to his mind, +that he had a nervous dread lest others should equally appreciate her, and +forestall his effort to secure her affection. He resolved, therefore, that +not an hour should be lost, and so went directly back to his father's +counting-rooms. + +Bodine was writing as usual at his desk, and Houghton looked at him with +an apprehension thus far unknown in his experience. But he did not +hesitate. "Captain Bodine," he said, with a little nervous tremor in his +voice, "will you be so kind as to grant me a private interview this +evening?" + +The veteran looked at him coldly as he asked, "May I inquire, sir, your +object in seeking this interview?" + +"I will explain fully when we are alone. I cannot here, but will merely +say that my motives are honorable, as you yourself will admit." + +Bodine contracted his brows in painful thought for a moment. "I may as +well have it out with him at once," was his conclusion. "Very well, sir, I +will remain after the office is closed," he said frigidly, then turned to +his writing. + +George went to his desk in his father's private room, and there was a very +grim, set look on his face also. "I understand you, my future +father-in-law," he murmured softly. "You think you are going to end this +affair in half an hour. We'll see." + +The afternoon was very warm, and his father said kindly, "Come, George, +knock off for to-day. I'm going home and shall try to get a nap before +dinner." + +"That's right, father; do so by all means. I have an engagement this +evening, so please don't wait dinner for me." His thought was, "If I'm to +keep my temper I can't tackle more than one the same day; yet I don't +believe my father will be obdurate. If I succeed, the time will come when +he'll thank me with all his heart." + +Mr. Houghton had no disposition to control his son in small matters, and +the young fellow came and went at his own will. Thus far his frankness and +general good behavior had inspired confidence. His tastes had always +inclined to athletic, manly sports, and these are usually at variance with +dissipation of every kind. + +The impatient youth had not long to wait. The clerks soon departed, and +the colored janitor entered on his labors. Bodine remained writing quietly +until George came and said, "Will you be so kind as to come to the private +office?" + +The veteran deliberately put his desk in order, and followed the young man +without a word. There was still an abundance of light in which to see each +other's faces, and George observed that Bodine's expression boded ill. He +took a seat in silence, and looked at the flushed face of the youth coldly +and impassively. + +"Captain Bodine," George began hesitatingly, "you can make this interview +very hard for me, and I fear you will do so. Yet you are a gentleman, and +I wish to act and speak as becomes one also." + +Bodine merely bowed slightly. + +"I will use no circumlocution. You have been a soldier, and so will +naturally prefer directness. I wish your permission to pay my addresses to +your daughter." + +"I cannot grant it." + +"Please do not make so hasty a decision, sir. I fear that you are greatly +prejudiced against me, but--" + +"No, sir," interrupted Bodine, "I am not prejudiced against you at all. I +have my own personal reasons for taking the ground I do, and it is not +necessary to discuss them. I think our interview may as well end at once." + +"Captain Bodine, you will admit that I have acted honorably in this +matter. Since your daughter told me that you were averse to our +acquaintance, I have made no effort to see her." + +"Certainly, sir, that was right and honorable. Any other course would not +have been so." + +"It is my purpose to maintain a strictly honorable and straightforward +course in this suit." + +"Do you mean to say that you will pursue this suit contrary to my wishes?" + +"Certainly. There is no law, human or divine, which forbids a man from +loving a good woman, and Miss Bodine is good if any one is." + +"How do you propose to carry on this suit?" the captain asked sternly. + +"I scarcely know yet, but in no underhand way. I must ask you to inform +Miss Bodine of this interview." + +"Suppose I decline to do this?" + +"Then I shall make it known to her myself." + +"In other words, you defy me." + +"Not at all, not in the sense in which you speak. I shall take no action +whatever without your knowledge." + +"You must remember that my daughter is not of age." + +"I do not dispute your right in the least to control her action till she +is, but I shall not take the risk of losing her by timidity and delay. +Others will appreciate her worth as well as myself. I wish her to know +that I love her, and would make her my wife." + +"You appear to think that this is all that is essential so far as she is +concerned," said Bodine, in bitter sarcasm. + +"You do me wrong, sir," Houghton replied, flushing hotly. "Even if you +should give your full consent, I, better than any one, know that my suit +would be doubtful. But it would be hopeless did I not reveal to her my +feelings and purposes." + +"If she herself, then, informs you that it is hopeless, that would end the +matter?" + +"Certainly, after years of patient effort to induce her to think +otherwise." + +"I do not think you have shown any patience thus far, sir. You have +scarcely more than met her before you enter, recklessly and selfishly, on +a 'suit,' as you term it, which can only bring wretchedness to her and to +those who have the natural right to her allegiance and love." + +"You do me wrong again, Captain Bodine. I am no more reckless or selfish +than any other man who would marry the girl he loves. By reason of +circumstances over which I had no control I have met Miss Bodine, and she +has inspired a sacred love, such as her mother inspired in you. You can +find no serious fault with me personally, and I am not responsible for +others. I have my own life to make or mar, and never to win Miss Bodine +would mar it wofully. I am an educated man and her equal socially, +although she is greatly my superior in other respects. I have the means +with which to support her in affluence. I mean only good toward her and +you. This is neither selfishness nor recklessness." + +"Have you spoken to Mr. Houghton of your intentions?" + +"Not yet, but I shall." + +"You will find him as bitterly opposed to it all as I am." + +"I think not. I shall be sorry beyond measure if you are right, but it can +make no difference." + +"You will defy him also, then?" + +"I object to the use of that word, Captain Bodine. In availing myself of +my inalienable rights I defy no one." + +"Have I no rights in my own child? Your purpose is to rob me as ruthlessly +as our homes were desolated years since." + +"I am not responsible for the past, any more than I am for your prejudices +against me. My purpose is simple and honorable, as much so as that of any +other man who may ask you for your daughter's hand." + +"Mr. Houghton," said Bodine, rising, "there is no use in prolonging this +painful and intensely disagreeable interview. I said to your father in +this office that our relations could be only those of business. Even these +shall soon cease. I now understand you, sir. Of course the past is nothing +to you, and you are bent on obtaining what you imagine you wish at the +present moment, without any regard to others. Let me tell you once for all +there can be no alliance between your house and mine. I would as soon bury +my daughter as see her married to you. I do find fault with you +personally. You are headlong and inconsiderate. You would lay your hands +on the best you can find in the South just as your armies and politicians +have done. But you proceed further at your peril--do you comprehend +me?--at your peril," and the veteran's eyes gleamed fiercely. + +"Captain Bodine," said George, also rising, "you cannot make me lose my +temper. I shall give you no just reason for saying that I am headlong. I +wish you could be more calm and fair yourself. Before we part one point +must be settled. My request must be met in one way or the other. If you +will give me your word that you will repeat the purport of what I have +said to Miss Bodine, I will make no effort to do so myself. However +hostile you may be to me, I know that you are a man of honor, and I will +trust you. I merely wish Miss Bodine to know that I love her and am +willing to wait for her till I am gray." + +"You wish me to tell her that you will wait and pray for my death, and +seek to lead her to do likewise," was the angry reply. + +"It is useless for me to protest against your unjust and bitter words. The +trust that I offer to repose in you entitles me to better courtesy." + +By a great effort Bodine regained self-control, and balanced himself for a +few moments on his crutches in deep thought. At last he said, "I accept +the trust, and will be as fair to you as it is possible for an outraged +father to be. I forbid that you should have any communication with my +daughter whatever, and I shall forbid her to receive any from you. What is +more, you must take her answer as final." + +"I promise only this, Captain Bodine, that I shall take no action without +your knowledge. I shall trust you implicitly in repeating the purport of +this interview. The moment that I looked into your face I recognized that +you were a gentleman, and I again apologize for my rude remark before I +knew who you were. Good-evening, sir." + +Bodine bowed stiffly, and departed with many conflicting emotions surging +in his breast, none of them agreeable. He scarcely knew whether he had +acted wisely or not. Indeed, the impression grew upon him that he had been +worsted in the encounter, that George, in making him his messenger to +Ella, had acted with singular astuteness. This was true, but the young +man's action was not the result of the Yankee shrewdness with which the +veteran was disposed to credit him. A simple, straightforward course is +usually the wisest one, and George instinctively knew that Ella would +appreciate such openness on his part. He was left in a very anxious and +perturbed condition, it is true, but in his heart he again thanked Mrs. +Willoughby for putting him so sacredly on his guard against his hasty +temper. + +Absorbed in thought, he sat till the gloom of night gathered in the +office; then the shuffling feet of the impatient janitor aroused him. + +Solacing the old man with a dollar, he went out hastily, and walked a mile +or two to work off his nervous excitement, then sought a restaurant, +muttering, "I haven't reached the point of losing my appetite yet." + +By the time Bodine reached home he was much calmer, and disposed to take a +much more hopeful view of the affair. + +He again concluded that after all it was best that he should be the one to +inform Ella, and thus keep the matter entirely within his own hands. +Believing her to be as yet untouched by anything that Houghton might have +said to her, he felt quite sure that he could readily induce her to take +the same attitude toward the objectionable suitor which he proposed to +maintain to the end. + +He found her and his cousin very anxious about his late return--an anxiety +not allayed by his grim, stern expression. + +"I have been detained by an unpleasant interview," he said. + +"With that old--" + +"No, not with Mr. Houghton. I will explain after dinner." + +With the swiftness of light, Ella surmised the truth, and made but a very +indifferent repast. Her father noted this, and asked himself, "Could she +have known of his purpose?" Then he reproached himself inwardly for +entertaining the thought. + +The meal was comparatively a silent one, and soon over; then they all went +to Mrs. Bodine's room. + +"I wish you to be present, Cousin Sophy," said the captain, "for I have a +very disagreeable task to perform, and I can scarcely trust myself to do +it fairly. You must prompt me if you think I do not. Ella, my dear and +only child, I trust that you will receive the message, which, in a sense, +I have been compelled to bring you, in the right spirit I feel sure that +you will do so, and that your course now and hereafter will continue to +give me that same deep, glad peace at heart which your fidelity to duty +and your devotion to me have always inspired. You have my happiness now in +your hands as never before; but I do not fear that you will fail me. The +son of the man whom we all detest, and whose employ I shall leave +presently, has asked permission to pay you his addresses." + +She turned pale as he spoke so gravely, and trembled visibly. + +"Why do you tell me this, papa?" she faltered. "I would rather not have +known it." + +"Because he requested me to tell you. Because he said he wished you to +know that he loved you, and that if I did not tell you he would himself;" +and he looked at her keenly. + +"Then," cried Ella, impetuously, "although I may never speak to him again, +I say he has acted honorably. I told you that he was incapable of anything +clandestine." + +"I trust that you never will speak to him again," said her father, almost +sternly. "I have forbidden him to have any communication with you, and I +certainly forbid your speaking with him again." + +"Father," said Ella, gently, with tears in her eyes, "I do not deserve +that you should speak to me in that tone. I've always tried to obey you." + +"Forgive me, Ella, but I have been intensely annoyed by the interview +inflicted upon me, and I cannot think of it, or of his preposterous +course, with patience. Moreover, pardon me for saying it, you have shown a +friendly interest in him which it has been very painful to note." + +"I've only tried to be fair to him, papa." + +"Please try merely to forget him, Ella--to think nothing about him +whatever." + +"I shall try to obey you, papa; but you are too old and wise to tell me +not to think. As well tell me not to breathe." + +"Ella," began her father sternly, "can you mean--" + +"Now, Hugh," interrupted his cousin, "be careful you don't do more +mischief than young Houghton can possibly accomplish. How men do bungle in +these matters! Hough-ton hasn't bungled, though. His making you his +messenger strikes me as the shrewdest Yankee trick I ever heard of." + +"I had the same impression on my way home," admitted Bodine, irritably. + +Ella felt that she owed no such deference to Mrs. Bodine as she did to her +father, and, with an ominous flash in her eyes, said decidedly, "You are +bungling, Cousin Sophy. George Houghton is incapable of what you term a +Yankee trick. I will be pliant under all motives of love and duty to my +father, but you must not outrage my sense of justice. You must remember +that I have a conscience, as truly as you have." + +"There, forgive me, Ella. You've seen the young fellow, and I haven't. +Cousin Hugh, remember that Ella has your spirit, and the spirit of her +ancestors. Show her what is right and best, and she will do it." + +Bodine looked at his daughter in deep perturbation. Could that flushed, +beautiful woman be his little Ella? With an indescribable pang he began to +recognize that she was becoming a woman, with an independent life of her +own. The greatness of the emergency calmed him, as all strong minds are +quieted by great and impending danger. "Ella," he said, gently and sadly, +"I do not wish to treat you as a little, foolish girl, but as becomes your +years. I wish your conscience and reason to go with mine. You know that +your happiness is the chief desire of my life. There could be no happiness +for either of us in such a misalliance. The father of this hasty youth +will be as bitterly opposed to it all as I am. We belong to different +camps, and can never have anything in common. You know my motive in taking +employment from him. I have thought better of it, and shall now leave his +office as soon as I can honorably. I don't wish to outrage your sense of +justice, Ella, and I will mention one other essential point in the +interview. I told young Houghton that he must accept your answer as final, +and that he would proceed further at his peril, and he said he would only +take a final answer from you after years of patient waiting and wooing. +How he proposes to do the latter I do not know, nor does he know himself. +He did say, however, that he would take no action without my knowledge. +You see that I am trying to be just to him." + +"I would like to ask one question, papa. Did he use any angry, +disrespectful language toward you?" + +Bodine winced under this question, but said plainly, "No, he did not. He +apologized for the third time for a hasty remark he once made before he +knew who I was. He said that he recognized that I was a gentleman then, +and that he would trust me as such to deliver his message." + +The girl drew a long breath as if a deep cause for anxiety had been +removed. + +"Oh, come now, Cousin Hugh, you and Ella are taking this matter too much +to heart. Why, Lor bless you! I had nearly a dozen offers by the time I +was Ella's age. There is nothing tragic about this young fellow or his +proceedings. Indeed, I think with Ella, that he has done remarkably well, +wonderfully well, considering. Nine out of ten of his kind wouldn't be so +scrupulous. He has done neither you nor Ella any wrong, only paid you the +highest compliment in his power. Regard it as such, and let the matter end +there. He can't marry Ella out of hand any more than he can me." + +At this the girl, seeing inevitably the comic side of everything, burst +into a laugh. "Cousin Sophy," she cried, "you surpass Solomon himself. +Come, dear papa, let us try to be sensible. Of course Mr. Houghton can't +marry me without your consent or mine." + +"Then I may tell him that you will never give your consent--that what he +terms his suit must end at once and forever?" + +She again became very pale, and did not answer immediately. + +"Ella, my only child, the hope and solace of my life, can you hesitate?" + +With a rush of tears, she threw herself upon his neck, and sobbed, "Tell +him that I will never do anything without your consent." Then she fled to +her own room. + +The captain and Mrs. Bodine sat looking at each other in consternation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +TEMPESTS + + +On his return home George found his father reading such of the Boston +papers as most nearly reflected his own views, and in which he had lost +none of his early interest. He had always looked upon himself somewhat in +the light of an exile, and it had been his purpose to return to his native +State; but as time passed, a dread of its harsh climate had begun to +reconcile him to the thought of ending his days in Charleston. All morbid +tendencies strengthen, if indulged. The desire, therefore, to remain near +the watery grave of his eldest son increased. Allied to this motive was +the pleasure of accumulating money, the excitement of business, and +exultation over the fact that he was taking tens of thousands from his +enemies. As far as possible he invested his capital at the North. The +people among whom he dwelt knew this, knew that, unlike Mr. Ainsley, he +was doing as little as possible to build up the section from which he was +drawing his wealth. + +George, as yet, had not been inducted into the spirit or knowledge of his +father's business methods, for the old man had believed that the time for +this had not come. Moreover, as the merchant became better acquainted with +the maturer character of his son, he became convinced that George would +not, indeed could not, carry on the business as he had. There was a large, +tolerant good-nature about the youth which would render it impossible for +him to deal with any one in his father's spirit. He had not known his +elder brother, and was merely proud of his record as that of a brave +soldier who had died in the performance of duty. George was like many of +the combatants, both Union and Confederate, capable of fighting each other +to the death during the war, but ready to shake hands after the battle was +over. + +No one understood this disposition better than Mr. Houghton, and he felt +that the South was no place for George. He wished his son to go back to +Massachusetts, where wealth and influence would open the way for a +brilliant career; and the old man already saw in imagination his name +famous in the Old Commonwealth. + +He had been thinking over this scheme on the present evening, and his mind +was full of it when George entered. "Glad to see you so early," he said +genially. "Had a good dinner? Yes; well, then, sit down a while, for I +wish to talk to you. I've had a good nap, and so won't need to go to bed +very early. Well, my boy, you've reached that age when you should take +your bearings for your future career." + +"Why, father, I've always expected to go into business with you, and +gradually relieve you of its burdens and cares." + +"No, George, that wouldn't be best; that wouldn't suit me at all. You are +fitted for something better and larger. You wouldn't carry on the business +as I do, and that would lead to differences between us. I couldn't stand +that. The iron entered into my soul before you were born. Your brother had +equal promise with yourself, and, to put it very mildly, I have no love +for those who destroyed him. I do business with them, but in much the same +spirit that Antonio dealt with the Jew on the Rialto. You would not do +this, nor could I expect you to. The accursed crime of rebellion has not +smitten your soul as with lightning, nor broken your heart. The young fall +into the ways of those with whom they live, and I wish you to have as +little to do with this Southern people as possible. There is no career for +you in this city, but in your native State you can become almost what you +please. If, for instance, with your splendid health you entered upon the +study of law and mastered it, I have influence and wealth enough to +advance you rapidly, until by your own grip you can climb to the top of +the ladder. You can then eventually marry into one of the best families in +the State, and thus at the same time secure happiness and double your +chances of success." + +George listened aghast as his father proceeded complacently, and with a +touch of enthusiasm rarely indulged. He was sitting by an open window, at +some distance from Mr. Houghton, the darkness concealing his face. He now +began to realize the truth of Mrs. Willoughby's belief and Bodine's +conviction, that he might find as much trouble at home as elsewhere. It +quickly became clear to him that he must reveal the truth at once, but how +to set about it he scarcely knew, and he hesitated like one on the brink +of icy water. What he considered a bright thought struck him, and he said, +"Speaking of marrying, you never told me how you came to marry mother." + +"Oh!" replied the old man dreamily, "I was almost brought up to marry her. +She was the daughter of a near neighbor and dear friend of my father's. +Your mother and I played together as children. I scarcely think we knew +when our mutual affection changed into love--it all came about so +gradually and naturally--and the union gave the deepest satisfaction to +both families. Ah! George, George, your brother's death shortened the life +of your mother, and left me very sad and lonely. I can never forgive this +people for the irreparable injuries they have done to me and mine. I know +you cannot feel as I do; but love of country and your affection for me +should lead you to stand aloof from those who are still animated by the +old, diabolical spirit which caused the death of such brave fellows as +your brother, and broke the hearts of such women as your mother." + +His son's distress was so deep that he buried his face in his hands. + +"I don't wonder that your feelings are touched by my reminiscences, +George," and the old man wiped tears from his own eyes. + +"Oh, father!" cried the son, springing up, and placing his hand on the old +man's shoulder, "I'm going to test your love for me severely. You are +right in saying I cannot feel as you do. I did not know that you felt so +strongly. I've given my love to a Southern girl." + +Moments of oppressive silence followed this announcement, and the old +man's face grew stern and rigid. + +"Father, listen patiently," George began. "She is not to blame for the +past, nor am I. If you only knew how good and noble and lovely she is--" + +"Who is she? What is her name?" + +"Ella Bodine." + +"What! A relative of that double-dyed rebel in my office?" + +"His daughter." + +"George Houghton!" and his father sprang up, and confronted his son with a +visage distorted by anger. Never had the youth called forth a look like +that, and he trembled before the passion he had evoked. + +"Father," he said entreatingly, "sit down. Do not look at me so, do not +speak to me till you are calm. Remember I am your son." + +The old man paced the room for a few moments in strong agitation, for he +had been wounded at his most vulnerable point. The thought that his only +son would ally himself with those whom he so detested, and whom for years +he had sought to punish, almost maddened him. As we have seen before, +there was a slumbering volcano in this old man's breast when adequate +causes called it into action, and now the deepest and strongest forces of +his nature were awakened. + +At last he said in a constrained voice: "I hope you also will remember +that I am your father. It would appear that you had forgotten the fact, +when you made love to one whom I never can call daughter." + +"I have not made love to her yet. You--" + +"Has she been making love to you then?" + +"Father, please don't speak in that way. There never were harsh words +between us before, and there must not be now." + +Again the dreadful silence fell between them, but it was evident that Mr. +Houghton was making a great effort for self-control. + +"You are right, George," he said at last. "I have never spoken to you +before as I have to-night, and, I hope to God, I may never have cause to +do so again. I have not been a harsh father, nor have I inflicted my +unhappiness on you. I have given you large liberty, the best education +that you would take, and ample means with which to enjoy yourself. I had +expected that in return you would consult my wishes in some vital +matters--as vital to your happiness as mine. I never dreamed that such +incredible folly as you have mentioned was possible. Your very birthright +precluded the idea. You said that you would have to test my love severely. +I shall not only have to test your love, but also your reason, your +common-sense, almost your sanity. What is thought of a man who throws away +everything for a pretty face?" + +"That I shall never do, father. The beauty in Ella Bodine's face is but +the reflex of her character." + +"That's what every enamored fool has said from the beginning of time," +replied Mr. Houghton, in strong irritation. "What chance have you had to +learn her character? I know more about the girl and her connections than +you do. She works with that Wallingford girl, and that old fire-eater, +Mrs. Hunter, in the baking trade. She lives with her cousin old Mrs. +Bodine, who thinks of little else than what she is pleased to consider her +blue blood, forgetting that it is not good, loyal, American blood. This +little patch of a State is more to her than the Union bequeathed to us by +our fathers. As to Bodine himself, if the South rose again, he'd march +away on his crutches with the rebellious army. Can you soberly expect to +live among such a set of people? Can you expect me to fraternize with +them, to stultify all my life, to trample on my most sacred convictions, +to be disloyal to the memory of wife and son, who virtually perished by +the action of just such traitors?" and he laughed in harsh, bitter +protest. + +George sat down, again buried his face in his hands, and groaned aloud. + +"You may well groan, young man, when you face the truth which you have so +strangely forgotten. But come, I'm not one to yield weakly to any such +monstrous absurdity. You are young and strong, and should have a spirit +equal to your stature and muscle. You have not made love to this girl, you +say. Never do it. Steer as wide of her as you would of a whirlpool, and +all will soon be well. I won't believe that a son of mine can be so +wretchedly, miserably, and contemptibly weak as to throw himself away in +this fashion." + +George was silent and overwhelmed. His father's words had opened an abyss +at his feet. He loved the old man tenderly and gratefully, and, under his +burning, scathing words, felt at the time that his course was black +ingratitude. Even if he could face the awful estrangement which he saw +must ensue, the thought of striking such a blow at his father's hopes, +affection and confidence made him shudder in his very soul. It might be +fatal even to a life already held in the feeble grasp of age. He could not +speak. + +At last Mr. Houghton resumed, very gravely, and yet not unkindly: "You are +not the first one of your age who has been on the verge of an irreparable +blunder. Thank God it is not too late for you to retreat! Do not let this +word jar upon you, for it often requires much higher courage and manhood +to retreat than to advance. To do the latter in this case would be as +foolhardy as it would be wrong and disastrous to all concerned. It would +be as fatal to me as to you, for I could not long survive if I learned +that I had been leaning on such a broken reed. It would be fatal to you, +for I would not leave my money so you could enrich these people. You would +have nothing in the world but the pretty face for which you sold your +birthright. I will say no more now, George. You will wake in the morning a +sane man, and my son. Good-night." + +"Good-night, father," George answered in a broken voice. Then, when alone, +he added bitterly: "Wake! When shall I sleep again?" + +The eastern horizon was tinged with light before, exhausted by his fierce +mental conflict, he sank into a respite of oblivion. For a long time he +wavered, love for his father tugging at his heart with a restraining power +far beyond that of words which virtually were threats. "He could keep his +money," the young fellow groaned, "if I could only keep his affection and +confidence, if I could only be sure that I would not harm his life and +health. I could be happy in working as a day-laborer for her." + +At last he came to a decision. He had given both his love and his word to +Ella. She only could reject the one, and absolve him from the other. + +He was troubled to find that the forenoon had nearly passed when he awoke. +Dressing hastily, he went down to make inquiries for his father. + +"Marse Houghton went to de sto' at de us'l time," said the colored waiter. +"He lef word not to 'sturb you, an' ter hab you'se breakfus' ready." + +George merely swallowed a cup of coffee, and then hastened down town. +Meanwhile, events had occurred at the office which require attention. + +A very few moments after Mr. Houghton entered his private room he touched +a bell. To the clerk who entered he said, "Take this letter to Mr. +Bodine." + +The veteran's face was as rigid and stern with his purpose as the employer +was grim in his resolves; but when the captain read the curt note handed +to him, his face grew dark with passion. It ran as follows: + +"MR. BODINE--I have no further need of your services. Inclosed find check +for your wages to the end of the month." + +The captain sat still a few moments to regain self-control then quietly +put his desk in order. He next halted to the private office, and the two +men looked steadily and un-blenchingly into each other's eyes for a +moment. Then the Southerner began sternly, "That hair-brained son of yours +has told you of the interview he forced upon me last night." + +"This is my private office, sir," replied Mr. Houghton, with equal +sternness. "You have no right to enter it, or to use such language." + +"Yes, sir, I have the right. Were it not for the folly and presumption of +your headlong boy, I would have left your employ quietly in a few days, +and had nothing more to do with you or yours. To save my daughter +annoyance from his silly sentimentality I was compelled to come into this +hated place wherein you concoct your schemes to suck dry our Southern +blood. He asked for permission to pay his addresses to my daughter, and I +forbade it. I told him that he could only do so at his peril." + +"You are certainly right, sir. I also have told him that he would do so at +his peril." + +"I also told him that I would rather bury my daughter than see her married +to him." + +"Truly, sir, I never imagined we could agree so perfectly on any +question," was Mr. Houghton's sarcastic reply. "Can we not now part with +this clear understanding? I have much to attend to this morning." + +"I have but one word more, and then trust I am through with his +sentimentality and your insolence. Tell the boy that my daughter says she +will have nothing to do with him without my consent. Now if there is even +the trace of a gentleman in his anatomy he will leave us alone. +Good-morning, sir." And tearing the check in two, he dropped it on the +floor and halted away. + +Mr. Houghton coolly and contemptuously turned to his writing till the door +closed on Bodine, and then he smiled and rubbed his hands in +self-felicitation. "This is better than I had hoped," he said. "I've often +laughed at the idiotic pride of these black-blooded, rather than +blue-blooded, fire-eaters, but I shall bless it hereafter." + +"As you virtually say, you hardened old rebel, if George is worth the +powder to blow him up, he'll drop you all now as if you had the plague. +I've only to tell him what you and your doll-daughter have said." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +"I ABSOLVE YOU" + + +When George reached the counting-rooms, he saw that Bodine was not in his +accustomed place. Surmising the truth at once, he hastened to his father's +room, and asked almost sternly: + +"Where is Captain Bodine?" + +"I neither know nor care," was the cool reply. "He is dismissed from my +service." + +"You have acted unjustly, sir," his son began hotly, "you have punished +him for my--" + +"George," interrupted his father gravely, "remember what you said about +angry words between us." + +The young man paced the office excitedly for a few moments in silence and +then sat down. + +"That's right," resumed his father quietly. "I am glad you are able to +attain self-control, for you now require the full possession of all your +faculties. Fortunately for both of us, this man, Bodine, has said more +than enough to end this folly forever," and he began to repeat the +conversation which had taken place. + +At a certain point George started, and, looking at his father with a +shocked expression, asked, "Did you mean, sir, that you also would rather +see me buried than married to a good woman whom I love?" + +"That is your way of putting it," replied Mr. Houghton, somewhat +disconcerted, for his son's tone and look smote him sorely. "You will +understand my feelings better when you have heard that rebel's final +words;" and he repeated them, ending with the sentences, "'Tell the boy +that my daughter says she will have nothing to do with him without my +consent. Now if there is even the trace of a gentleman in his anatomy he +will leave us alone.' In this final remark I certainly do agree with him +most emphatically," concluded the old man sternly. "Any human being, +possessing a particle of self-respect, would prefer death to the +humiliation and dishonor of seeking to force himself on such people." + +"I suppose you are right, sir, but I cannot help having my own thoughts." + +"Well, what are they?" + +"That the girl has met in her home the same harsh, terrible opposition +that I have found in mine." + +"Undoubtedly, thank heaven! Whether she needed it or not she has evidently +had the sense to take the wholesome medicine. The probabilities are, +however, that she has laughed at the idea of receiving attentions so +repugnant to her father and to me." + +"No doubt," said George wearily. "Very well, there _is_ a trace of a +gentleman in my anatomy. I would like to leave town for a while." + +"A very sensible wish, George," said his father kindly. "Go where you +please, and take all the money you need. When you have come to see this +affair in its true light come back to me. I will try to arrange my +business so that we can make a visit North together in the early autumn." + +"Very well, sir," and there was apathy in his tones. After a moment he +added, "Please give me some work this morning." + +"No, my boy. Go and make your preparations at once. Divert your thoughts +into new channels. Be a resolute man for a few days, and then your own +manhood will right you as a boat is righted when keeled over by a sudden +gust." + +George was not long in forming the same plan which Clancy had adopted. He +would go to the mountains in the interior, fish, hunt and tramp till the +fever in his blood subsided. He told his father of his purpose. + +"All right, George. I only wish I were young and strong enough to go with +you. It will not be long before you will see that I have had at heart only +what was best for you." + +"I hope so, father; I truly do, for I have had a new, strange experience. +Even yet I can scarcely comprehend that you and Mr. Bodine could speak to +your children, and dictate to them in matters relating to their happiness +as you both have done. It savors more of feudal times than of this free +age." + +"In all times, George, the hasty passions and inconsiderate desires of the +young, when permitted gratification, have led to a lifetime of +wretchedness. But we need not refer to this matter again. Bodine's final +words have settled it for all time." + +"It would certainly seem so," said young Houghton. "Well, I will make my +preparations to start to-morrow." + +His first step was to go direct to Mrs. Willoughby, and his dejected +expression revealed to the lady that her anticipations of strong +opposition were correct. + +"I won't annoy you," she said, as George sat down and looked at her with +troubled eyes, "by that saying of complacently sagacious people, 'I told +you so.' You may tell me all if you wish." + +"I do so wish, for I fear my way is blocked." And he related all that had +occurred. When he ended with Bodine's final words she said thoughtfully, +"Such language as that, combined with Ella's message, does seem to end the +affair." + +"Well, I know this much," he replied ruefully, "I am a gentleman. No +matter what it costs me I must continue to be one." + +"Yes, Mr. Houghton, you have acted like a gentleman, and, as you say, you +must continue to do so. Let me congratulate and thank you for keeping your +temper." + +"I nearly lost it when I learned that my father had discharged Mr. +Bodine." + +"I understand how you felt then. You were sorely tried as I feared. Have +you any reason to think that Ella feels in any such way as you do?" + +"None at all. My best hope was, that with time and opportunity I could +awaken like regard. While not at all sanguine, I would have made every +effort in my power to win her respect and love. But now what can I do? If +I take another step I must forfeit my father's love and confidence, which +is far more to me than his money. I have at least brain and muscle enough +to earn a living for us both. I fear, however, that such a course would +kill the old gentleman. I could meet this problem by simply waiting if +Ella cared for me, but she and her father have made it impossible to +approach her again. She has said she would have nothing to do with me +without her father's consent, and he has said that he would rather bury +her than permit my attentions." + +"Well, my friend, I see how it is, and I absolve you utterly. You can't go +forward under the circumstances." + +"No, for she would now probably meet any effort on my part with contempt, +and agree with her father that a Northern man couldn't even appreciate +words that were like a kick." + +"Well, then, go to the mountains and forget all about it. If Ella had set +her heart upon you as you have on her, and you both could be patiently +constant, the future might have possibilities; but if I were a man I would +make no further effort under the circumstances." + +George went home with a heavy heart, and grimly entered upon the first +hard battle of his life. + +Ella tried to be her old mirthful self when she came down to breakfast +that morning, and succeeded fairly well. In spite of her father's bitter +words and opposition he had told her a truth that was like the sun in the +sky. George Houghton loved her, and he had revealed his love in no +underhand way. She was proud of him; she exulted over him, and, in the +delicious pain of her own awakening heart, she forgot nearly everything +except the fact that he loved her. + +Bodine was perplexed by her manner and not wholly reassured. When she had +kissed him good-by for the day, he said, "Cousin Sophy, perhaps our fears +last night had little foundation. Ella does not seem cast down this +morning." + +The old lady shook her head and only remarked, "I hope it is not as +serious as I feared." + +"Why do you fear so greatly?" + +"Suppose Ella does care for him more than we could wish, the fact you told +her last night that this young fellow loves her, or thinks he does, would +be very exhilarating. Oh, I know a woman's heart. We're all alike." + +"Curse him!" muttered the captain. + +"No, no, no, pray for your enemies. That's commanded, but not that we +should marry our daughters to them. Dear Cousin Hugh, we must keep our +comon-sense in this matter. This is probably Ella's first little love +affair, and girls as well as boys often have two or three before they +settle down. Ella will soon get over it, if we ignore the whole affair as +far as possible. You have much to be thankful for, since neither of the +young people is sly and underhanded. Never fear. That old Houghton will +set his boy down more decidedly than you have Ella, and also send him out +of town probably. This cloud will sink below the horizon before we are +many months older. Perhaps Ella will mope a little for a time, but we must +not notice it, and must make it as cheerful for her as possible. +Charleston men are beginning to call on her, and she'll soon discover that +there are others in the world besides George Houghton." + +But the veteran halted to his work sore-hearted and angry. Strong-willed +and decided as Mr. Houghton himself, he could not endure the truth that +his daughter had looked with favor on one so intensely disagreeable to +him. He, too, felt that such an alliance would stultify his life and all +his past, that it would bring him into contempt with those whose respect +he most valued. Young Houghton's coolness and resolute purpose to ignore +his opposition, together with the fact that Ella was not indifferent, +troubled him, and led to the determination to take the strongest measures +within his power to prevent further complications. This resolve accounted +for his visit to Mr. Houghton's office and the words he uttered there. His +employer, however, had aroused his anger to the last degree, and he +returned home in a rage. + +Mrs. Bodine listened quietly to his recital of what had occurred, and then +said, with her irrepressible little laugh, "Well, it was Greek meeting +Greek. You both fired regular broadsiders. Cool off, Cousin Hugh. Don't +you see that all things are working for the best? Your rupture with old +Houghton will only secure you greater favor with our people, and Ella be +cured all the sooner of any weakness toward that old curmudgeon's son." + +"I should hope so," said her father most emphatically. + +"Don't you be harsh to Ella. We can laugh her out of this fancy much +better than scold or threaten her out of it." + +"I shall not do either," said Bodine gravely. "I shall tell her the facts +and then trust to her love, loyalty and good sense. It has been no +laughing matter to me." + +Ella's cheerfulness and happiness grew apace all the morning. "To think +that I should have brought that great Vandal to my feet so soon!" she +thought, smiling to herself. "Dear me! Why can't people let bygones be +bygones? Now if I could see him, naturally what a chase I could lead him! +If he thinks I'll put my two hands together and say, 'Please, sir, don't +exert yourself. The weather is too warm for that. Behold thine handmaid,' +he will be so mistaken that he will make some poor dinners. I'd be bound +to keep him sighing like a furnace for a time. Well, well, I fear we both +will have to do a lot of sighing, but time and patience see many changes. +As Aun' Sheba says, he's on ''bation,' and, if he holds out, our stern +fathers may eventually see that the best way to be happy themselves is to +make us happy. He thinks I'm a very frigid representative of the Southern +people. Wouldn't he dance a jig if he knew? Well, speed thee on, old +Father Time, and touch softly obdurate hearts." Thus with the hopefulness +of youth she looked forward. + +Mara regarded her with misgivings, but asked no questions. She also was +sadly preoccupied with her own thoughts. + +"Aun' Sheba," Ella said, as the old woman entered, "I rather like this +''bation' scheme of yours. I think of putting myself on ''bation.'" + +"Oh, you go long, honey. Doan you make light ob serus tings." + +"I'm doing nothing of the kind, Aun' Sheba. I've too much respect for +you." + +"Oh, well, honey, sich as you gits 'ligion jes as you did de measles. It's +kin ob bawn an' baptize inter yez wen you doan know it. But I'se got to +hab a po'ful conwiction ob sin fust, an' dats de trouble wid me. I says to +myself, 'Aun' Sheba, you'se a wile sinner. Why doan you cry an' groan, an' +hab a big conwiction? Den you feel mo' shuah;' but de conwiction won' come +no how. Sted ob groanin' I gits sleepy." + +"Well, I think I've got a conviction, Aun' Sheba, and I'm not a bit +sleepy." + +"I don't know what you dribin at. Bettah be keerful how you talk, honey." + +"I think so too, Ella." + +"Oh, Mara! you take such 'lugubrious' views, as I heard some one say. +There, Aun' Sheba! I'll sober down some day." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +FALSE SELF-SACRIFICE + + +Ella was very much surprised to find her father reading in the parlor when +she returned home. "Why papa!" she cried, with misgivings of trouble, "are +you not well?" + +"I cannot say that I am, Ella, but my pain is mental rather than physical. +Mr. Houghton dismissed me with insults from his service this morning." + +Ella flushed scarlet. "Where was young Mr. Houghton?" she asked +indignantly. + +"Sent to Coventry, probably. He evidently did not dare put in an +appearance." + +She sat down and drew a long breath. + +"Ella," said her father very gravely, "I shall not treat you as a child. +You have compelled me to recognize that you are no longer the little girl +that had grown so gradually and lovingly at my side." + +"Papa," cried Ella, "I am not less lovingly at your side to-day." + +"I hope so. I shall believe it if, with the spirit which becomes your +birth, you do take your place at my side in unrelenting hostility to these +Houghtons who have heaped insult upon us, the son by rash, headlong action +which he would soon regret, and the father by insufferable insolence. But +you shall judge for yourself." And he began, as Mr. Houghton had done, to +repeat what had passed between them. + +At the same terrible words which had smitten George, she also cried, +"Papa, did you say you would rather bury me?" + +"Yes," said the veteran sternly, "and I would rather be buried myself. You +must remember that I am at heart a soldier and not a trader. I could not +survive dishonor to you or myself; and any relation except that of enmity +to these Houghtons would humiliate me into the very mire. What's more, Mr. +Houghton feels in the same way about his son. I am not one whit more +averse than he is. He virtually said that he would disinherit and cast out +his son should he continue to offend by seeking your hand. I, in return, +told him that if the sentimental boy had even the trace of a gentleman in +his anatomy he would leave us alone. Now you can measure the gravity of +the situation. The name of our ancestors, the sacred cause for which I and +so many that I loved perilled and lost life, forbid that I should take any +other course. Turn from this folly and all will be serene and happy soon. +I can obtain a position elsewhere. Surely, Ella, you are too true a +Southern girl to have given your heart unsought, unasked to your knowledge +till last night. Your very pride should rescue you from such a slough as +this." + +The girl had turned pale and red as he spoke. Now she rose and said +falteringly: "Papa, I'm no hypocrite. As I told you last night, I will do +nothing whatever without your consent." + +"You will never have my consent even to speak to that fellow." + +"Very well then," she said quietly, "that ends it." + +So apparently it did. Ella went to her room and for a few moments indulged +in a passion of grief. "Oh, to think," she moaned, "that fathers can say +to their children that they would rather bury them than give up the +bitterness of an old and useless enmity! It is indeed all ended, for he +would never look at me again after papa's words." In a few moments she +added, "Mine also, mine also, for I said, 'Tell him I will do nothing +without papa's consent.' Well, I only hope he can get over it easier than +I can." + +She soon washed the traces of tears from her eyes and muttered: "I won't +show the white feather anyhow, even if I haven't Aun's Sheba's comfort of +being on ''bation.'" And she marched down to dinner with the feeling of a +soldier who has a campaign rather than a single battle before him. + +There was a little stiffness at first; but Mrs. Bodine, with her fine +tact, soon began to banish this, and the old lady was pleased that Ella +seconded her efforts so readily. Bodine was a man and a straightforward +soldier, honest in his views and actions, however mistaken they might be. +He had not feminine quickness in outward self-recovery, and the waves of +his strong feeling could only subside gradually. He soon began to +congratulate himself, however, that his strong measures had led to a most +fortunate escape, and he admitted the truth of his cousin's words that +young girls were subject to sudden attacks of romantic sentiment before +they were fairly launched into society. + +As the days passed these impressions were strengthened, for Ella appeared +merrier than ever before. Mrs. Bodine kept pace with her nonsense which at +times even verged on audacity, and the veteran began to laugh as he had +done before the "Houghton episode," as he now characterized it in his +mind. Mrs. Bodine, however, began to observe little things in Ella which +troubled her. + +On the morning following that of Bodine's dismissal, Mara saw at once from +Ella's expression that something unpleasant had occurred. + +"What has happened?" she asked anxiously. + +"Oh, we've had an earthquake at our house," was the somewhat bitter reply. +Fondly as she loved Mara, Ella stood in no awe of her whatever, and her +heart was almost bursting from the strong repression into which she knew +she must school herself for the sake of her father. + +"Please, Ella, don't talk riddles." + +"Well, papa and old Houghton have had a regular pitched battle; papa has +been discharged, and is now a gentleman of leisure." + +"Shameful! What earthly reason could that old wretch--" + +"I'm the earthly reason." + +"Ella, don't tantalize me." + +"Well, that misguided little boy, who must stand six feet in his +stockings, had the preposterous presumption--there's alliteration for you, +but nothing else is equal to the case--to ask papa if he might pay his +addresses to me. Isn't that the conventional phrase? At the bare thought +both of our papas went off like heavy columbiads, and we poor little +children have been blown into space." + +"Oh, Ella I how can you speak so!" cried Mara indignantly. "The idea of +associating your father with that man Houghton in your thoughts! It does +indeed seem that no one can have anything to do with such Yankees as come +to this city--" + +"There now, Mara," said Ella a little irritably, "I haven't Aun' Sheba's +grace of self-depreciation. I haven't been conjured into a monster by +Northern associations, and I haven't lost my common-sense. I don't +associate papa with old Houghton, as no one should know better than you. +No daughter ever loved father more than I love papa. What's more, I've +given him a proof of it, which few daughters are called upon to give. But +I'm not a fool. The same faculties which enable me to know that you are +Mara Wallingford reveal to me with equal clearness that papa and Mr. +Houghton have acted in much the same way." + +"Could you imagine for a _moment_ that your father would permit the +attentions of that young Houghton?" + +"Certainly I could imagine it. If papa had come to me and said, 'Ella, I +have learned beyond doubt that Mr. Houghton is sly, mean, unscrupulous, or +dissipated,' I should have dropped him as I would a hot poker. Instead of +all this the Vandal goes to papa like a gentleman, tells him the truth, +intrusts him with the message of his regard for me, and promises that if +papa will tell me he will not--also promises that he will not make the +slightest effort to win my favor without papa's knowledge. Then he told +his own father about his designs upon the little baker. Then both of our +loving papas said in chorus of us silly children, 'We'll see 'em buried +first.'" + +"I don't wonder your father said so," Mara remarked sternly. + +"Well, _I_ wonder, and I can't understand it," cried Ella, bursting into a +passion of tears. + +"There now, Ella," Mara began soothingly, "you will see all in the true +light when you have had time to think it over. Remember how old Houghton +is looked upon in this city. Consider his intense hostility to us." + +"I've nothing to say for him," sobbed Ella. + +"Well, it would be said that your father had permitted you to marry the +son of this rich old extortioner for the sake of his money. Your action +would throw discredit on all your father's life and devotion to a cause--" + +"Which is dead as Julius Caesar," Ella interrupted. + +"But which is as sacred to us," continued Mara very gravely, "as the +memory of our loved and honored dead." + +"I don't believe our loved and honored dead would wish useless unhappiness +to continue indefinitely. What earthly good can ever result from this +cherished bitterness and enmity? Oh, mamma, mamma! I wish you had lived, +for you would have understood the love which forgives and heals the wounds +of the past." + +"Ella, can you have given your love to this alien and almost stranger?" + +"I have at least given him my respect and admiration," she replied, rising +and wiping her eyes before resuming her work. Suddenly she paused, and in +a serio-comic attitude she pointed with the roller as she said, "Mara, +suppose you insisted that that kitchen table was a cathedral, would it be +a cathedral to me? No more so than that your indiscriminate prejudices +against Northern people are grand, heroic, or based on truth. So there, +now. I've got to unburden my feelings somewhere; although I expect +sympathy from no one, I believe in the angels' song of 'Peace on earth and +good will toward men.'" + +"I fear your good will toward one man," said Mara, very sadly, "is taking +you out of sympathy with those who love you, and who have the best and +most natural right to your love." + +"See how mistaken you are! I shall never be out of sympathy with you, +papa, or Cousin Sophy. But how can I sympathize with some of your views +when God has given me a nature that revolts at them? If you ever love a +good man, God and your own heart will teach you what a sacred thing it is. +What if I am poor, and lacking in graces and accomplishments, I know I +have an honest, loving nature. Think of that old man Houghton condemning +and threatening his son, as if he had committed a vile crime in his most +honorable intentions toward me! Well, well, it's all over. I've given my +word to papa that I'll do nothing without his consent, and he'll see me +buried before he'll give it. Don't you worry, I'm not going to pine and +live on moonshine. I'll prove that I'm a Bodine in my own way." + +"Yes, Ella, you will, and eventually it will be in the right way." + +"Mara, what I have said is in confidence, and since I've had my say I'd +rather not talk about it any more." + +Mara was glad enough to drop the subject, for Ella had been saying things +to which her own heart echoed most uncomfortably. She and Mrs. Hunter +accepted Mrs. Bodine's invitation to dine that evening, and, in her +sympathy for Bodine, was kinder to him than ever, thus reviving his hopes +and deepening his feelings. + +Time passed, bringing changes scarcely perceptible on the surface, yet +indicating to observant eyes concealed and silent forces at work. And +these were observant eyes; Mrs. Bodine saw that Ella was masking feelings +and memories to which no reference was made. Ella began to observe that +her father's demeanor toward Mara was not the same as that by which he +manifested his affection for her. While she was glad for his sake, and +hoped that Mara would respond favorably, she had an increased sense of +injustice that he should seek happiness in a way forbidden to her. The +thought would arise, "I am not so much to him after all." + +One day, near the end of July, Ella, her father, Mrs. Hunter and Mara, +were on the Battery, sitting beneath the shade of a live oak. The raised +promenade, overlooking the water, was not far away, and among the +passers-by Mara saw Clancy and Miss Ainsley approaching. Apparently they +were absorbed in each other, but, when opposite, Clancy turned and looked +her full in the face. She gave no sign of recognition nor did he. That +mutual and unobserved encounter of their eyes set its seal on their last +interview. They were strangers. + +"There goes a pair, billing and cooing," said Ella with a laugh. + +"Mara, don't you feel well?" asked the captain anxiously. "You look very +pale." + +"I felt the heat very much to-day," she replied evasively. "I am longing +for August and rest." + +"Oh, Mara! let us shut up shop at once," cried Ella. "Papa is at leisure +now and we can make little expeditions down the bay, out to Summerville +and elsewhere." + +"No," Mara replied, "I would rather do just what we agreed upon. It's only +a few days now." + +"You are as sot as the everlasting hills." + +Mara was silent, and glad indeed that her quiet face gave no hint of the +tumult in her heart. + +Mrs. Hunter's eyes were angrily following Clancy and Miss Ainsley. "Well," +she said, with a scornful laugh, "that renegade Southerner has found his +proper match in that Yankee coquette. I doubt whether he gets her though, +if a man ever does get a born flirt. When she's through with Charleston +she'll be through with him, if all I hear of her is true." + +"Oh, you're mistaken, Mrs. Hunter," Ella answered. "She fairly dotes on +him, and if he don't marry her he's a worse flirt than she is. Think of +Mr. Clancy's blue blood. She undoubtedly appreciates that." + +"I'm inclined to think that he was a changeling, and that old Colonel +Clancy's child was spirited away." + +"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Hunter, but I differ with you. While I cannot +share in many of Mr. Clancy's views and affiliations, he has the +reputation of being sincere and straightforward. Even his enemies must +admit that he seeks to make his friendliness to the North conducive to +Southern interests." + +Mara's heart smote her that even Captain Bodine had been fairer to Clancy +than she had been. + +Words rose to Ella's lips, but she repressed them, and soon afterward they +returned to their respective homes. + +Mara early retired to the solitude of her own room, for that cold mutual +glance on the Battery had suggested a new thought not yet entertained. In +her mental excitement it promised to banish the dreary stagnation of her +life. She must have a motive, and if it involved the very self-sacrifice +that she had been warned against, so much the better. + +"It would teach Owen Clancy how futile were his words," she said to +herself. "It would bring happiness to my father's friend; it would become +a powerful incentive in my own life, and, above all, would compel me to +banish the thought of one to whom I have said I will never speak again." + +The more she dwelt upon this course, the more clear it became in her +warped judgment the one path of escape from an aimless, hopeless existence +fast becoming unendurable. She was not by any means wholly selfish in +reaching her decision, for thoughts of her own need did not predominate. +"If I cannot be happy myself," she reasoned, "I can make Captain Bodine +happy, for there could not be a more devoted wife than I will become, if +he puts into words the language of his eyes. Ella has already ceased to be +in true sympathy with him in matters that have made so much of the warp +and woof of his life. We two are one in these respects. I can and will +cast out all else if my motive is strong enough." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +A SURE TEST + + +Clancy had gone to Nature to be calmed and healed, but he had brought a +spirit at variance with her teachings. He soon recognized that he was +neither receptive nor docile. He chafed impatiently and angrily at Mara's +obduracy, which, nevertheless, only increased his love for her. The +deepest instincts of his nature made him feel that she belonged to him, +and he to her. The barrier between them was so intangible that he was in a +sort of rage that he could not brush it aside. Reflection always brought +him back to the conviction that she did love him. Her passionate words: +"If my heart break a thousand times I will never speak to you again," grew +more and more significant. Odd fancies, half-waking dreams about her, +pursued him into the solitude of the forest. She seemed like one +imprisoned; he could see, but could not reach and release her. Again she +was under a strange, malign spell, which some day might suddenly be +broken--broken all too late. + +Then she would dwell in his thoughts as the victim of a species of moral +insanity which might pass away. At times her dual life became so clear to +him that he was almost impelled to hasten back to the city, in the belief +that he could speak such strong, earnest words as would enable her to cast +aside her prejudices, and break away from the influences which were +darkening and misshaping her life. Then he would despondently recall all +that he had said and done, and how futile had been his effort. + +He neither fished nor hunted, but passed the time either in long tramps, +or in sitting idly tormented by perturbed thoughts. Believing that he had +reached a crisis in his life, it was his nature to come to some decision. +He was essentially a man of action, strong-willed and resolute. He +despised what he termed weakness, forgetting that the impulses of strength +often lead to error, for the reason that patience and fortitude are +lacking. + +In facing the possibilities of the future, he began to yield to the +promptings of ambition, a trait which had no mean place in his character. +"If Mara denies her love, and sacrifices herself to Bodine," he reasoned, +"what is there left for me but to make the most of my life by attaining +power and influence? I can only put pleasures and excitements in the place +of happiness. I won't go through life like a winged bird." + +When such thoughts were in the ascendant, Miss Ainsley presented herself +to his fancy, alluring, fascinating, beckoning. She seemed the embodiment +of that brilliant career which he regarded as the best solace he could +hope for. Often, however, he would wake in the night, and, from his forest +bivouac, look up at the stars. Then a calm, deep voice in his soul would +tell him unmistakably that, even if he attained every success that he +craved, his heart would not be in it, that he would always hide the +melancholy of a lifelong disappointment. All these misgivings and +compunctions usually ended in the thought: "Caroline Amsley and all that +she represents is the best I can hope for now. She may be playing with +me--I'm not sure, if she will marry me, I can probably give her as true a +regard as she will bestow upon me. She is not a woman to love devotedly +and unselfishly, not counting the cost. I could not marry such a woman, +for I feel it would be base to take what I could not return; but I could +marry her. I would do her no wrong, for I could give to her all the +affection to which she is entitled, all that she would actually care for. +If I am mistaken, I am totally at fault in the impression which she has +made upon me, and I do not think that I am. I am not in love with her, and +therefore am not blind. She is not in love with me. It has merely so +happened that I have proved agreeable to her, pleased, amused, and +interested her. Possibly I have led her to feel that we are so +companionable that a life journey together would be quite endurable. My +reason, all my instincts, assure me that this beautiful girl has +considered this question more than once before--that she is considering it +now, coolly and deliberately. I am being weighed in the balances of her +mind, for I do not think she has heart enough to enable that organ to have +much voice in the matter. Her views and beliefs are intellectual. No +strong, earnest feelings sway her. When have her sympathies been touched +in behalf of any one or any cause? Oh, my rare beauty! I am not blind. +Selfishness is the mainspring of your character; but it is a selfishness +so refined, so rational and amenable to the laws of good taste, that it +can be calculated upon with almost mathematical accuracy. You are no +saint, but a saint might be beguiled into faults which to you are +impossible. You are a fit bride for ambition, and would be its crown and +glory." + +Such was often the tenor of his thoughts, and ambition suggested the many +doors to advancement which such an alliance would open. Mr. Ainsley was +not only a man of wealth, but also of large, liberal ideas. It certainly +would be a pleasure and a constant exhilaration to aid him in carrying out +his great enterprises. + +Thus Clancy, as well as Mara, was led by disappointment in his dearest +hope of happiness to seek what next promised best in his estimation to +redeem life from a dreary monotony of negations. He also resolved to have +motives and incentives; nor was his ambition purely selfish, for he +purposed to use whatever power, wealth and influence he might obtain for +the benefit of the people among whom he dwelt. Hers, however, was the +nobler motive, and the less selfish, for it involved self-sacrifice, even +though it was mistaken, and could lead only to wrong action. It would cost +him nothing to carry out his large, beneficent purposes. Indeed, they +would add to his pleasures and enhance his reputation. She was but a +woman, and saw no other path of escape from the conditions of her lot +except the thorny one of self-abnegation. + +Alternately cast down, and fired by conflicting thoughts and purposes, +Clancy soon discovered that the woods was no place for him, and he +resolved to return to the city, there to be guided by the circumstances of +the next few weeks. If it became clear that Mara had not been influenced +by his warning, but on the contrary was accepting Bodine's attentions, +then he would face the truth that she was lost to him beyond hope. Without +compunction he would turn to Miss Ainsley, and, with all the wariness and +penetration which he could exercise, seek to discover how far she would go +with him in his life campaign to achieve eminence. He was glad, however, +that he did not regard her as essential to his plans and hopes. Indeed, he +had the odd feeling that even if she rejected him as a husband, he could +shake hands with her and say: "Very well, Ainsley, we can be good comrades +just the same. We amuse and interest each other, we mutually stimulate our +mental faculties. Let it end here." + +In this mood he fulfilled his promise and wrote as follows: + +"My DEAR AINSLEY--Permit me to remind you of my existence--if one can be +said to exist in these wilds. An expedition of this kind is a good thing +for a fellow occasionally. It enables him to get acquainted with himself, +to indulge in egotism without being a nuisance. I have neither hunted, +fished, nor studied the natives. I have not seen a "mountain maid" whose +embrace I would prefer to that of a bear. I have merely tramped aimlessly +about, meanwhile learning that I am not adapted to communion with nature. +At this moment I should prefer smoking a cigar with you on the balcony to +looking at scenery which should inspire artist and poet. I am neither, +merely a man of affairs. Humanity interests me more than oaks, however +gigantic. You see I have no soul, no heart, no soaring imagination. I am +as matter-of-fact a fellow as you are. That's why we get on so well +together. We can chaff, spar, and run intellectual tilts as amicably as +any two men in town. This proves you to be quite exceptional--delightfully +so. I'm not surprised, however, for, as I have said to you, you are sated +with the other kind of thing. How long will this fancy last? Now that you +are so manly you should not be fickle. You have not half comprehended the +penalties of your new _role_, for you may find that it involves a +distressing frankness. I think I had better close. Letter-writing +pre-supposes literary qualities which I do not possess. Men, unless +sentimentally inclined, or given to hobbies, rarely write long letters to +each other. If unusually congenial they can talk together as long as +women. I do not know of a man in town who can equal you as good company; +and with this fact in mind, I shall atone for a brief letter by putting in +an appearance at an early date. If you have had any flirtations in my +absence I shall expect all the details. You know I do not care for such +trivial amusements. In this material age, making the world move in the way +of business affords ample scope for my limited faculties, while a chat +with you is better than a game of chess in the way of recreation, better +than moping in the woods. Your friend, CLANCY." + +He had barely time to post the letter before the mail-stage left the +little hamlet in which it was written. He was soon dissatisfied with +himself and the missive, and regretted having written it. Before an hour +had passed he muttered: "I never wrote such a letter to a woman before, +and I won't again. I put myself in the worst light, in fact was unjust to +myself. How differently I would write to Mara! Is it the difference in +women which inevitably inspires different thought and action? At any rate, +there is a touch of coarseness in this masculine _persiflage_ which +grates. When I return we must become friends as man and woman. I wonder if +she will feel as I do about it?" + +Miss Ainsley was not satisfied with the letter at all, one reason being +that it revealed too much penetration on Clancy's part. While she welcomed +him with her old cordiality she took him to task at once. + +"This is a spurious letter," she said, holding it up. "You would never +write such an affair to a male friend. You betrayed a consciousness of my +femininity in every line. You preached to me and warned me with the same +penful of ink. You write as if you were a commonplace male cynic, and I a +woman who was trying to unsex herself by a lot of ridiculous affectations. +I wished a genial, jolly letter such as you might write to an old college +chum." + +"Do you know the reason why I did not, rather could not, write such a +letter?" + +"No." + +"Because you are not an old college chum." + +"I was not aware that you were so tremendously sincere." + +"I'm not tremendously sincere--not tremendous in any grand sense of the +word, but I've learned that I can be tremendously awkward in a false +position. It is absurd of you to fancy that I can think of you in any +other light than that of a beautiful woman, gifted with more than your +share of intellect. I prefer that our friendship should rest on this +obvious fact. We are too old 'to make believe,' as children say. I came to +this conclusion within an hour after I wrote the letter." + +"Oh, you dashed it off hastily, without giving it thought?" + +"I've given you two thoughts to your one," he replied, laughing lightly. + +"And none of them very complimentary, judging from the letter." And she +impatiently tore it up. + +"That's right. Put it out of existence." + +"I almost wish I had kept it as documentary evidence against you," she +remarked. + +"Oh, come! Friends do not wish evidence against, but for each other. I +could remain away scarcely a week." + +"From business, yes." + +"Or from my most delightful recreation; yes." + +"You find me very amusing then." + +"I do indeed, and interesting also. I am quite certain that your society +gives me far more pleasure than mine affords you." + +"Since I am relegated to woman's sphere I certainly shall not protest +against that belief. I am now under no bonds to be distressingly frank." + +"You never would have been any franker than you wished to be. For the +manifestation of that trait I shall have to depend on something very +different." + +"And what may that be?" + +"Why, simply the quality of your friendship." + +"I am satisfied that mine compares very favorably with yours." + +"In both instances neither of us can escape one sure test." + +"Indeed! What test?" + +"That of time," he replied, smiling significantly. "Good-by. I'm quite +sure that your regard will survive till to-morrow afternoon when we are to +take a sail in the harbor, so Mrs. Willoughby has informed me." + +Miss Ainsley gave a little complacent nod in his direction as he +disappeared, and thought, "Since you are so content and agreeable as a +friend merely, I'm half-inclined to keep you as such, and marry some one +else." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +"BITTERNESS MUST BE CHERISHED" + + +To all appearance the long hot days of August were passing very +uneventfully to the characters of our story. The cold look which Clancy +received from Mara on the Battery, together with the fact that Bodine +appeared more lover-like than ever, speedily satisfied him that his best +resource was the ambitious career which in his absence he had accepted in +the place of happiness. He therefore gave himself up quite unreservedly to +Miss Ainsley's fascinations, and, with all the skill and energy he +possessed, seconded her father's business enterprises. Mr. Ainsley was +sometimes in town, and again absent, as his business interests required; +for he was one of those indefatigable men who, with soldier-like energy +and fearlessness, carry out their plans, regardless of discomfort or +danger. He recognized the fact that Clancy was both capable and useful, +and was already inclined to make him one of his chief lieutenants in the +South. He understood the young man's relations to his daughter perfectly, +and was not at all averse to a union between them. At the same time, he +knew how problematical Caroline's action would be, and that it would be +useless for him to appear for or against the match. He was aware of his +daughter's attitude in regard to marriage, and also convinced that she +would take her own course. + +It would seem that she was taking no course whatever at present, but +indolently and complacently letting matters drift. She sometimes smilingly +thought, "I scarcely know whether Mr. Clancy is friend or lover. I suppose +I could lead him to be more pronounced in either character if I chose, but +since he is so agreeable as he is, I would be a fool not to keep +everything _in statu quo_ till I wish a change. Life is too long to give +up a pleasure before you are through with it." + +Clancy quietly studied her mood, and was in no greater hurry than herself. +Indeed, both felt that they had arrived at a comparatively clear mutual +understanding, and so were quite at their ease, she enjoying his society +abundantly, and he hers, as far as his bitter memories would permit. + +Quick of apprehension, Bodine soon perceived a change in Mara's attitude +toward him, but was considerate in availing himself of such slight +encouragement as she gave. He had been taught by her manner that her first +feeling on the discovery of a warmer regard than she had expected was that +of repulsion. He now believed that she had thought the matter over, and +was learning that it might not be impossible to regard him in a new and +different light. Long since the ardor of youth had passed, and he was +disposed to allow her time to become accustomed to the thought of +wifehood. In the meantime he put forth every effort to prove himself +companionable, in spite of their disparity in age. It was not his delicate +and thoughtful attentions, however, which reconciled her to the future +that she had accepted, but rather the motives already revealed. Under the +influence of these, a certain species of mental excitement had been +evoked. She had not ceased to suffer, but she had ceased merely to exist. + +There was something now to look forward to, sacred duties to anticipate, +and a future which was not a blank. She believed that in giving help and +happiness to another she would more surely trample on self, and make it +the vantage-ground for a greater devotion than that of most women whose +love is often partly self-love. In regarding her first pure love and all +its promptings as the phase of self to be destroyed, she was committing +her fatal error; and of this error, not only Clancy's words, but also her +own heart, often warned her. But she was not one to turn back, having once +resolved upon a course. + +She had far too much delicacy and maidenly pride to suggest consciously to +Bodine the nature of her thoughts, but she was willing that he should see +that she no longer shrank outwardly from his occasional manifestations of +a tenderer regard than he bestowed upon Ella. That something in her +woman's nature beyond her control did shrink and plead for escape, she +knew well; but to conquer this instinctive aversion was a part of the task +which she had set for herself. + +Not only quick-witted Ella, but also Mrs. Bodine and Mrs. Hunter, saw the +drift of affairs, and gave their unhesitating approval. Mrs. Hunter was +glad, because it would destroy Clancy's prospects forever, and prove a +sort of triumph over him. Then it was, as she assured Mara one day, +"eminently fitting. Your father and mother would both approve." + +"That thought comes to me, too," calmly rejoined the girl. "I hope they +will--I think they will. But let us not talk further till all is settled." + +Mrs. Bodine believed the marriage would result well on other grounds. +"Cousin Hugh," she said one day when they were alone, "you may shut me up +if I am meddling, but you are not thinking of Mara in the same way that +you did in the spring." + +"I admit it, Cousin Sophy, and you need not shut up." + +"Well, I reckon it will come about. On general principles I don't approve +of such marriages, but I suppose there are exceptions to most rules. As I +have said to you before, Mara is as old in her feelings as you are, and I +think you will be happier together than you would be apart. I never +understood Mara altogether; but of one thing I am certain, she must have +some strong motive, something or some person for whom she can sacrifice +herself; and, being a woman, she would have a good deal better time +sacrificing herself to a man than to anything else;" and the old lady +chirped her little complacent laugh. + +"Rest assured," said the veteran, "I don't want any self-sacrifice in +Mara's case." + +"Of course not; nor do I. I wouldn't approve of any actual self-sacrifice, +but Mara will try to come as near it as she can. I reckon she'd be more +drawn toward a cripple like you than the handsomest young fellow in town, +on general principles; and then she has been interested in you from the +first, because you, in a peculiar sense, represent to her the past, which +has been almost her only inheritance." + +"I confess that I have indulged in the same thoughts which you express. +God grant that we both are right! She has become strangely dear to me. +Once I could never have imagined it at my time of life." + +"Oh, the heart needn't grow old," was the laughing reply. + +The captain's outlook was rendered more favorable by the reception of a +note which contained the offer of a better position than that held in the +employ of the detested Mr. Houghton. When he investigated the matter he +learned that the offer came largely through the influence of Clancy, and +this last confirmed the veteran's impression that the young man was using +his influence and prosperity for the benefit of the South. + +To Mara it was a bitter ordeal to listen to Bodine's complacent +explanation of the affair, and she was glad that she was told in the dusky +twilight, which concealed an expression of pain even beyond her control. +Words of passionate protest rose to her very lips, but she remembered in +time that they would involve revelations which would thwart her purpose to +make him happy at every cost to herself. If he ever learned what Clancy +had been to her, what he was at this agonized moment, her vocation, if not +gone, would be impaired beyond remedy. Afterward, in the solitude of her +own room, she accepted this bitter experience, as she had resolved to +accept all others, as a part of her lot. + +In her morbidness she became Jesuitical. Her father's old friend should be +made as happy as it was in her power to render him. Whatever interfered +with this purpose should be concealed or trampled upon. Of Clancy she said +bitterly, "If he thinks he has been magnanimous, how little he understands +me." + +Clancy's motives had been somewhat mixed. He was willing that her pride +should be rebuked and wounded, and he also wished her to know that he was +above the petty resentment of jealousy. + +Poor Ella felt that she was becoming isolated; an impression, however, +which she would not have had were it not for her recent experiences. Had +her heart remained as light and untouched as it was when we first met her, +her pleasure over her father's prospects would have been unalloyed. Even +now her satisfaction was deep and sincere, but it was not in human nature +to forget how summarily she had been denied the happiness so sweet to +those of her age. She felt, however, that all were against her; that even +kind old Mrs. Bodine would not listen patiently to her thoughts. So she +kept them to herself, and sought by forced mirthfulness to disguise them. +She talked and laughed with the young men who called upon her, and they +came in increasing numbers as inevitably as a flower attracts the bees. +She was the life of the "family excursions," as she characterized in her +thoughts those in which Mara and Mrs. Hunter had a part; and she joined +others of which her father approved, but there was often trouble and +sadness in her eyes, and her cheeks and form were losing their roundness +of outline. Mrs. Bodine was not deceived. She noted everything silently, +and thought, "She is making a brave fight; she must make a brave fight. +There is no other course for her. I reckon she'll win it, as many a girl +has before." + +The old lady was thoughtful, kind, and very attentive. At the same time, +with the nicest tact, she infused a firmness and spirit into her demeanor +which made the girl feel that her cousin had sympathy only with the effort +to conquer or forget. And she honestly made such effort, but was often +aghast at its futility. In her brusque way she said to herself, "What's +the use of trying? It seems like a disease which must run its course till +old Father Time brings some sort of a cure." + +One day she went to see Aun' Sheba, and found the old woman feeling +poorly. + +"Yes, honey," she said, "bein' lazy doan 'gree wid me 'tall. I doan see +how Unc. stan's it all de yeah roun'." + +"I hab de rheumatiz," Uncle Sheba remarked in the way of explanation. + +"Now, Unc., dat ar rheumatiz is like de scapegoat in de Bible. You loads +it up with all you sins. We all hope dat wen you got so sot on dat you'd +turn ober a new leaf. How you stan' it sittin' roun' all day I doan see, +no how. I'se gettin' so heaby an' logy an' oncomf'ble dat I'se gwine ter +take in washin' de rest ob de month." + +"I'd be glad to go to work to-morrow, too," said Ella. "I'd be glad of +anything to make the time pass." + +"Why, honey, wot you want de time to pass quick fer? You oughter be like +de hummin'-bird, gederin sweets all de day." + +"I feel more like a croaking raven." + +"You'se quar, Missy Ella. You'se up an' you'se down, an' you doan know +why. Ole Hannah dat lib wid you says dat you'se gittin' a lot ob beaux. +Why, you eben make a 'pression on dat big, 'ansome Northern chap, ole +Houghton's son, wen you doan know it. More'n once he ax me which de cakes +you make, an' wen I tell him, he wanter buy dem all." + +"That's very funny," Ella said, and there was the old mirthful ring in her +laugh. + +"You know him?" Aun' Sheba asked, quickly. + +"I met him at Mrs. Willoughby's." + +"Shuah now! Dat counts fer it. Well, he'd gobble all you'se cake if I'd +let him, but I had oder cus'mers on my min'; an' he seem ter hab on'y you +on his min'." + +"You were very wise, Aun' Sheba. So much cake would have made him ill," +and she still laughed joyously. + +"'Pears to me you'se gittin' betteh, Missy Ella." + +"Oh, you always make me laugh and hearten me up, Aun' Sheba." + +"Well, who'd a tink dat ar civil, nice spoken young man was de son ob dat +ole sinner Houghton. Beckon Missy Mara doan like you'se talkin' wid him at +Mis Wil'by's." + +"Of course not. He's a Northern Vandal, you know." + +"Dunno notin' 'bout Wandals. I jedge folks by wot dey is deysefs. He +couldn't help bein' bawn at de Norf. Long as he 'habe himself, wot dat +agin him?" + +"Being born at the North is a crime, some people think." + +"Yes,--I know, but dat ar suttingly fool talk. Dat ain't de trouble so +much in dis case. It's cause he's dat ole 'tankerous Houghton's son." + +"He isn't to blame for that either," Ella answered, hotly. + +"Lor', Missy Ella! how you stan' up fer 'im." + +"I don't believe in injustice, Aun' Sheba," said Ella quietly, conscious +meanwhile that her cheeks were getting very red. + +"De heat _am_ po'ful," Aun' Sheba remarked, sententiously. Then her plump +form began to shake with mirth. "Dar now, Missy Ella," she added, "de +blin' ole woman kin see as fur in de grin-stone as de next one. He'd stan' +up fer you agin de hull worl. It shines right out in his 'ansome face." + +"How very blind you are, Aun' Sheba! Why, he's not fit to be spoken to, +and I'm not to speak to him again as long as I live. Good-by. Good-by, +Uncle Sheba. I've heard that sawing wood was the best cure for rheumatism +known;" and she flitted out of the dusky cabin like a tropical bird. + +Aun' Sheba still laughed to herself, and remarked, "Unc., s'pose you try +Missy Ella's cure?" + +"Wot she know 'bout it?" growled Uncle Sheba, with an injured aspect. "Wot +de use ob sawin' wood all day wen de town hot 'nuff now to roas' +lobsters?" + +"Dat min's me, Unc. Why don' you took ter some sittin' wuck like fishin' +in de harbor? You mought catch a lobster, or some oder fish." + +"De fish an' me 'ud bof be briled in dis yere sun 'fore we got home." + +"Bar, Unc., you wouldn't go to Heben 'less you was toted." + +"Ob cose not. Doan de Bible say de angels gwine ter tote us?" + +"Well, I s'pose dey is.--Ef a body ony know'd weder it ud be up or down." + +"Dar now, Aun' Sheba, wot fei you talk so se'rus in Augst? Nex' winter +we'se gwine ter hab a refreshin' from on high." + +"P'raps you won' lib till nex' winter, Unc." + +Uncle Sheba began to hitch uneasily, and remarked, "I doan see no use ob +sech oncomf'ble talk in de restin' time ob de yeah." + +Aun' Sheba soon forgot him in her unspoken thoughts of Ella and young +Houghton. + +"I begins ter unerstan' dat leetle gal now, an' all her goins on--puttin' +aw-spice in de cake twice, an' sayin' quar tings. Well, well, I knows +dey's all agin her, po' chile. Wot foolishness it all am! I once jam my +ban' in de do'--s'pose I went on jamin' for eber. Der's no use ob der +lookin' glum at me, fer dat young man's gwine ter hab all her cakes he +wants. I won'er if Missy Mara got de same 'plaint as Missy Ella. She bery +deep, an' won' let on, eben ter her ole nuss. Pears ter me de cap'n's +gittin' kiner lopsided toward her, but I don' belibe dat'll wuck." + +Ella was both gladdened and saddened by her visit. Houghton's buying her +cake was one of those little homely facts on which love delights to dwell; +for the heart instinctively knows that genuine love permeates the whole +being, prompting to thoughtfullness in small matters which indifference +overlooks. She could not but be glad that he had seemed to have "on'y you +on his min'"; and then she grieved that all which was coming about so +naturally, like a spring growth, should have been harshly smitten by the +black frost of prejudice and hate. + +After an early dinner that evening her father asked her kindly to go with +him and Mara to the Battery; but she declined, saying she would rather +keep Mrs. Bodine company. He did not urge her; and he had been so +preoccupied by his thoughts as not to observe that she was pale and +dejected, in spite of her efforts to appear as usual. + +When alone Mrs. Bodine said, "You should have gone, Ella. You need the +fresh cool air from the water. Why didn't you go?" + +"Oh!" said the girl, in assumed lightness of tone, "three is sometimes a +crowd." + +"You shouldn't feel that way, Ella. You would never be a crowd." + +"You are forgetting your old experiences, Cousin Sophy." + +"No, I'm not. So you see whither affairs are tending?" + +"Oh, cousin! Am I a bat?" + +"I hope you are not averse." + +"No, Cousin Sophy, I would do anything, and suffer much, to make papa +happy. You know how I love Mara, though we disagree on many points; and if +she and papa would be happier--Oh! why can't I be happy, too?" and she +gave way to a tempest of sobs. + +"We all wish you to be happy, Ella," said Mrs. Bodine, soothingly. + +"Yes, in your own way," she replied, brokenly. "What happened before I was +born must be considered first. If love is sweet to papa at his age think +what it is to me?" + +"You must not imagine, Ella dear, that we don't feel with you and for you. +I am proud of you as I watch your brave fight in which you will conquer." + +"Why should I conquer when my heart tells me that the one I love is worthy +of my love? It hurts me, it wounds my very soul, that he and I should be +spoken to as if we had committed a crime. How could my love be so sacred +and heavenly if it were wrong? Oh, how I hate, hate! There is nothing so +hateful as hate." + +"But, Ella, you don't consider all--" + +"There is no need of considering all, Cousin Sophy. There are some things +which stand out so clearly that all else is insignificant. Mr. Houghton +hates papa and me. Does papa love him or his son? You know me, faulty, +foolish little girl that I am; but think of that man raging at his son +because he dared to love me! If George had committed a crime his father +would have spent a fortune in defending him. To love me was worse than a +crime. He would have been turned into the streets. Oh, it's all so unjust, +it's all the spawn of hate!" + +Mrs. Bodine was aghast at the intensity of the girl's feelings, but could +only say, "Well, Ella, dear, since things are as they are you must fight +it out. Trust the experience of an old woman. Marriages in the face of +such bitter opposition are rarely happy." + +"Yes, the bitterness must be sacredly cherished, whatever else is lost. +Oh, I know, Cousin Sophy, I know I must fight it out if it takes my +lifetime, and all the while know that God would bless our love if hate +hadn't blighted it." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +NOBLE REVENGE + + +George Houghton took to the mountain solitudes a better and purer spirit +than Clancy, who was so ready to be consoled by ambition and the +fascinations of a woman incapable of evoking the best in his nature. The +young fellow did fish and hunt with tireless energy, and many a humble +cabin was stocked with provisions by his exertions. Believing that not +only Bodine, but also that Ella herself, would have nothing to do with +him, his affectionate nature turned to his father. With a large charity he +tried to forget the stern words which had sorely wounded him, and only to +remember the influences on his father's life which had led to their +utterance. He recalled the abundant proofs of his kindness and liberality; +and, now that his young dream was over, he purposed to carry out the old +man's schemes as best he could. + +He tired himself out through the long hot days, and slept at night from +exhaustion. The time thus passed until he felt that he had the strength to +return to the city, and act as if Ella did not dwell there. He also +thought of his father's need of help, and regretted that he had remained +away so long. + +The old man looked at him keenly when he returned, seeing that the young +face had grown older by years, and that steadiness of purpose and +resolution were in its every bronzed line. + +"It's all right, father," George replied to the questioning glance. "I've +come back to carry out your wishes." + +"Ah, my boy! now I know that you are made of the same stuff as your +brother. Well, you won't be sorry." + +"I wish to leave this town, and I wish you would too. I don't think it's +good for you to be here." + +"I'll think of it, George. I have thought of it. I shouldn't be mulish +since you are not." + +"I'm glad you feel so about leaving, father. Go back with me to your old +congenial friends and surroundings. I, for one, don't wish to stay where I +am ostracized." + +"Oh, curse the rebels! I've punished them! I've punished them well!" + +"I don't wish to punish them; but, since they will have nothing to do with +me, a decent self-respect leads me to go where I can be treated according +to my behavior." + +"I know you can't feel as I do. All I ask is that you have nothing to do +with them." + +For the next few days, regardless of the heat, George toiled early and +late in his father's office, incited by the hope of soon taking the old +man away on a visit to the more bracing climate of the North. In the +evenings he refreshed himself by a long swim in the harbor, and by sailing +his boat over its waters. + +One evening, while enjoying the latter favorite pastime in the early +twilight, it so happened that he caught sight, in a passing boat, of a +group which made his heart throb quickly. In the stern sat Captain Bodine +steering the vessel toward the city. Ella was near him, and two ladies +whom he did not know. As a hunter his eyes were keen, and he was satisfied +that he had not been recognized. He could not resist the temptation to get +a better view of Ella, and, drawing his hat over his eyes, he began to +manoeuvre his boat so as to accomplish his purpose. + +His little craft skimmed here and there so swiftly, as he tacked, that +Ella at last began to watch it with a pleased yet languid interest, +remarking, "That boat yonder tacks about and sails as if it were alive." + +"Yah, yah, so 'tis alibe," said the negro owner of the craft which Bodine +had hired for their excursion. "Young Marse Houghton sail dat boat, an' he +beats any duck dat eber swum." + +Ella's breath came quick, and she turned pale and red in her conflicting +feelings, for it was evident that Houghton was purposely keeping near to +them. She saw the frown on her father's face, and that Mara's expression +was grave. Mrs. Hunter indignantly said, "He had better go on and mind his +own business. Why should old Houghton's son be hovering around us like a +hawk, I'd like to know?" + +"The harbor is as free to him as to us," Ella answered, hotly. + +Mrs. Hunter pursed her lips and looked unutterable things at the girl, but +she regarded neither the matron's sour expression nor her father's stern +glance, for her eyes were fascinated and held by the vessel which sped +along the water like a white-winged gull. No one except Ella and the +colored man continued the observance of Houghton. The girl was in a +perverse mood, and watched until her father rebukingly spoke her name; +then she turned away. + +Meanwhile George gazed wistfully at one whom he believed that he might +never see again; for he and his father were almost ready for their visit +North, where the young man was to remain. Then he saw her steady gaze in +his direction. Could she have recognized him? Did she continue to watch +him because of some faint interest? His pulses quickened at the thought. +After a few moments he said bitterly: "Yes, she knows me at last, and +turns away. Very well, away go I, then." + +At this moment he caught a glimpse of the western sky, and his sailor +instincts were alarmed. There was a single dark cloud rising rapidly, +portending not a storm, but sudden, violent gusts. In the gathering gloom +all thought of vanishing was abandoned. No matter how Ella regarded him, +he would not be far away while there was a shadow of danger to her. +Examining his sail carefully he knew he could drop it to the point of +safety at a moment's notice. + +The wind on which he had been sailing died out. Then came little puffs +from the west. To catch these the colored skipper of the captain's boat +took the helm and tacked, presenting a broad surface of sail to their +force. Houghton tacked also in the same direction, but with his eye on the +westward water, and his hand on the rope which would bring down his sail +with a run. He speedily had need of this caution. There was a distant +roar, the water shoreward darkened, and then, as his sail came down and +the prow of his boat went round to the gust, he was enveloped in a cloud +of spray. At the same instant shrill screams of women and the hoarse cries +of men came from Bodine's vessel. + +The fury of the first gust passed quickly. When the atmosphere cleared a +little, Houghton saw that the mast of the other craft had broken, and, +with the sail, lay over on the leeward side. He instantly knew that the +occupants were in imminent danger. Raising his sail as high as he dared, +he tacked toward them with such nice judgment that if he kept on he would +pass a little abaft of the disabled vessel. + +"Oh, Marse Houghton! come quick," yelled the negro. "She'm won' float +anoder minit!" + +"Bail, you lubber!" + +"Don got notin to bail wid!" + +"As usual," growled Houghton. + +All the rest were now silent. In his agonized apprehension for Mara and +Ella, Bodine felt his heart beat as it had never done in the bloodiest +battle. His careless boatman had not recognized the danger since the cloud +was so comparatively small, and when he sought to lower the sail something +was out of gear and it stuck. The gust struck it fairly, and would have +capsized the boat had not the mast broken. As it was, the vessel so +careened as to ship a dangerous quantity of water, which was rapidly +increased by every wave that broke over the sides. + +Mara and Mrs. Hunter were pallid indeed, but calm in woman's patient +fortitude, remembering, too, even in that awful moment, that if they +escaped they would owe their lives to one whom they regarded with scorn +and hostility. Ella's hope buoyed her spirit, although she felt herself +sinking deeper every moment in the cold waters. With love's confidence she +believed that Houghton would be equal to the emergency, and his swiftly +coming sail was like the white wings of an angel. Then for an instant she +was perplexed and troubled, for he seemed to be steering as if to pass +them, near, yet much too far. + +"She'm sinkin', she'm goin' un'er," the negro yelled. + +"Be ready, every one, to jump the moment I lay alongside," Houghton +shouted. Then he luffed sharply to the wind, dropped his sail; his light +craft lost headway, and glided alongside of the sinking boat. + +"Now jump, all," he cried. + +The women and negro did so and were safe, but the crippled veteran failed, +fell backward, and would have dragged Ella, who held his hand, with him, +had not Houghton broken her grasp. As quick as light he sprang into the +vessel, now down to the water's edge, and fairly flung the captain into +his own boat. As he did so the water-logged craft went down, and he with +it. Ella shrieked and called his name imploringly. In the wild anguish of +the moment she would have jumped overboard after him had she not been +restrained. + +"Patience," cried her father, "he will rise in a moment." + +Houghton's little boat, now so heavily freighted, had almost gone under in +the suction. The negro, rendered half wild with terror, was bent only on +saving his own life. He was scarcely in the boat before he had the oars in +the rowlocks, and began to pull for the shore. In their eager scanning of +the dark water, Bodine and the others did not notice this at first, and +when they did the negro was deaf to their expostulations and threats. The +captain tried to reach him as he heaped maledictions on his head, but at +that instant another squall swooped down, enshrouding them in spray, and +nearly swamping their frail vessel. They sat silent and trembling, +expecting Houghton's fate, but the gust passed finally, and the lights of +the city gleamed out. + +"Now put about, you--coward," thundered Bodine. + +"No, sah, neber," replied the negro; "de boat swamp in two mi nit if I put +'bout in dis sea." + +The veteran began to crawl toward him to compel obedience. The man +shouted: "Stop dat ar. Ef you comes nigher I hit you wid'n oar. Bettah one +drown dan we all drown." + +Ella gave a despairing cry, and found oblivion in a deathlike swoon. + +"Truly, Captain Bodine," said Mrs. Hunter sternly, "you must keep your +senses. If the man is right, and we have every reason to believe he is, +you must not throw away all our lives for the chance of saving one." + +Then she, with Mara, gave all her attention to Ella. + +The captain groaned aloud, "Would to God it had been me instead of him!" +Between his harrowing solicitude for Ella, and the awful belief that +Houghton had given his life for him, he passed moments which whitened his +hair. + +As they neared the landing the water grew stiller, and their progress more +rapid. Assured of safety, the negro began to reason and apologize. "Mus' +be reas'n'ble, boss," he said. "I dun declar ter you dat we'd all be at de +bottom, feedin' fishes, if I'd dun wot you ax. Been no use nohow. Young +Marse Houghton mus' got cotched in de riggin' or he'd come up an' holler. +I couldn't dibe a'ter 'im in de dark, and in dat swashin' sea." + +"Stop your cursed croaking. If you had known how to manage your boat it +wouldn't have happened." + +"I dun my bes', boss. S'pose I want ter lose my boat an' my life? I'se +jis' busted, an' I kin neber go out on de harbor agin widout fearin' I see +young Marse Houghton's spook. I'se wus off dan you is, but I'se he'p you +wen we gits asho', if you ain't 'tankerous." + +"Certainly you must help us," said Mrs. Hunter, decidedly. "You must get +men and a carriage. Captain Bodine has lost his crutches, and his daughter +is in a swoon. If you help us I will testify that you did the best you +could under the circumstances." + +"All right, missus. I kin swar dat it ud been death to hab dun any oder +ting." + +The carriage was brought, and men lifted into it the unconscious girl and +the almost equally helpless veteran. Then one mounted the box with the +driver and another ran for a physician, who was directed to go to Mrs. +Bodine's residence. The negro carefully moored Houghton's boat, feeling +that there might be something propitiatory to the dreaded ghost in this +act. He then hastened to his humble cabin, and filled the cars of his +family and neighbors with lamentations over the lost boat and lost man, +and also with self-gratulations that he was alive to tell the story. + +On the way home, Mara took the stricken veteran's hand and said: "Captain, +you must bear up under this. In no respect have you been to blame." + +"Nevertheless," he replied, and there was almost desperation in his tone: +"I feel that it will prove the most terrible misfortune of my life. Ella +may never be herself again, and I have wronged one to whom I can never +make reparation--a noble, generous boy who has taken a revenge like +himself, but which is scorching my very soul." + +"You are noble yourself, captain, or you wouldn't feel it so keenly," was +the gentle reply. + +Mrs. Bodine, without waiting for explanations, peremptorily ordered that +Ella should be carried to her room. The veteran, using a second pair of +crutches which he kept in reserve, went to the adjoining apartment, buried +his face in his hands, and groaned audibly. He knew not how to perform one +imperative and pressing duty, that of relating to Mr. Houghton what had +happened. + +Aware of what was on his mind, Mara came to him and said, "I will go and +tell his father." + +"God bless you, Mara, for the offer. I would rather face death than that +old man, but it is my duty and I alone must do it. Hard as it is, it is +not so terrible as the thought that the poor boy died for me and mine, and +that I can never make the acknowledgment which his heroic self-sacrifice +deserves. It would have been heroic in any man, but in him whom I had +treated with such bitter scorn and enmity--How can I meet Ella's eyes +again! Oh, I fear, I fear all this will destroy her!" + +"Courage, my friend," said Mara, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Ella +will live to comfort you." + +"Mara, you will not fail me?" + +"No, I will not fail you." + +He pressed her hand to his lips, and then she returned to Ella. + +Mrs. Hunter and old Hannah removed the poor girl's wet garments and +applied restoratives. The invalid, whose strength and spirit rose with the +emergency, directed their efforts, meantime listening to the fragmentary +explanations which were possible at such a time. + +"Oh, just God!" she exclaimed, "we are punished, terribly punished for our +thoughts and actions toward that poor boy. Ella, dear child, was right +after all, and we all wrong. She might well love such a hero." + +At last Ella gave signs of returning consciousness. Mrs. Bodine hastened +to the captain, and said: "Cousin Hugh, Ella is reviving. You must control +yourself. Everything depends on how we tide her over the next few hours." + +The length of the swoon revealed the force of the blow which the loving +girl had received. Perhaps the long oblivion was nature's kindly effort to +ward off the crushing weight. Mrs. Bodine hung over her when she opened +her eyes with a dazed expression. "There, Ella dear," she said, "don't +worry. You'll soon be better. Take this," and she gave the girl a little +brandy and water. + +The powerful stimulant acted speedily on an unvitiated system, and with +returning strength memory recalled what had befallen the one she loved. +From tears she passed to passionate sobs, writhing and moaning, as if the +agony of her spirit had communicated itself to every fibre of her body. + +"Oh, Ella, darling, don't," cried her father. "I cannot endure this. He +has conquered me utterly; my prejudice is turned into homage. We will all +love and revere his memory. Would to God it had been I instead of him!" + +"There, Hugh, thank God," said Mrs. Bodine, "that Ella can weep. Such +tears keep the heart from breaking." + +The old lady was right. Expression of her anguish brought alleviation, and +there was also consolation in her father's words. The physician came, and +his remedies also had their effect. + +There was nothing morbid or unhealthful in Ella's nature. With returning +reason came also the influence of conscience and the sustaining power of a +brave, unselfish spirit. Her father had put himself in accord with her +feelings, and her heart began to go out toward him in tenderness and +consideration, and she said brokenly: "Papa, I will rally. I will live for +your sake, since you will let me love his memory." + +"You cannot love it or honor it more than I shall," he replied, in a voice +choked with emotion. Then he took the physician into the adjoining room, +to consult how best they might break the dreadful news to Mr. Houghton. + +At this moment the front door burst open, and hasty, uncertain steps were +heard. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +A FATHER'S FRENZY + + +Mr. Houghton knew that his son had gone out sailing in the harbor, and, +when the gusts swept over the city, became very anxious about him. He was +aware, however, of George's good seamanship, and tried to allay his fears +by thoughts of this nature. As time lapsed, anxiety passed into alarm and +dread foreboding. At last he summoned his coachman, and determined to go +to the place where his son moored his boat. As he was about to prepare +himself for the street, there were two hasty rings of the door-bell. He +sank into a chair, overcome by the awful fear which, for a moment, robbed +him of strength. + +Now it had so happened that one of his younger clerks had been on the +Battery when the rescued party reached it, and he had gathered little more +from the colored boatman than that young Houghton had been drowned in +saving Bodine and the ladies with him. His first impulse was to go to tell +his employer, and he started to carry out this purpose. On his way he +remembered that, in horror over the event, he had not stopped to ask +fuller particulars, and he turned back to question the negro more fully. +When he reached George's boat he found that the man had gone, and that the +small crowd which had gathered had dispersed. With a heavy heart he again +started for Mr. Houghton's residence, regretting sadly that it was his +duty to communicate the terrible news. His feelings increased to a nervous +dread by the time he reached Mr. Houghton's door. He feared the stern old +man, and believed that he would always be associated with the tragedy, and +so become abhorrent in the eyes of his employer. But, as the thing must be +done, the sooner it was over the better. + +The colored waiter admitted the trembling form, and exclaimed, "O Lawd! +what happen?" + +"I wish to see Mr. Houghton." + +"Bring him up," shouted the old man hoarsely. "Well," he gasped as the +clerk entered. + +"Mr. Houghton, I'm very sorry--" + +"For God's sake, out with it!" + +"Well, sir, I fear Mr. George--" + +"Drowned!" shrieked the father. + +The young clerk was silent and appalled. + +"Oh, curse that harbor! Curse that harbor!" the old man groaned. + +"Perhaps, sir," faltered the clerk, "Mr. Bodine can--" + +"Bodine! Bodine! what in hell had he to do with it?" + +"I could not learn the particulars beyond that Mr. George was--was--in +saving Mr. Bodine, his daughter, and two other ladies--" + +"Now may all the infernal powers blast that rebel!" and the old man rushed +down the stairway. + +The frightened clerk and waiter followed hastily, and restrained him as he +was opening the front door. + +"Sir, dear sir, be patient--" + +"Now, Marse Houghton, wot you gwine ter do?" cried the negro. + +"I'm going straight to that damned Bodine." + +"Den, Marse Houghton, you mus ride. Sam's puttin' de bosses to de kerrige +dis minit." + +Houghton instantly darted through the house and out to the stable. +"Haste!" he thundered, "haste, you snail!" + +The waiter helped Sam, and in a moment or two the carriage rumbled away, +the waiter on the box with the coachman, and the clerk inside with the +frenzied father. + +It was his steps which had startled Bodine and the physician, and they +opened the door facing the landing as the old man came rushing up, crying +hoarsely, "Where's my boy?" + +"Where I wish I was," replied Bodine gravely. + +The doctor was a strong and decided man. A glance showed him that Mr. +Houghton was excited almost to the point of insanity. Seizing his hand the +doctor drew the old man into the room, and with gentle force placed him in +a chair. Never for a moment, however, did Mr. Houghton take his fiery eyes +from Bodine, who, now that he was in the stress of the emergency, +maintained his sad composure perfectly. Only a soldier whose nerves had +been steeled in battle could have looked upon the half-demented man so +quietly, for he presented a terrible spectacle. His white hair was +dishevelled, and his eyes had the ferocity of a lioness robbed of her +young. Foam gathered at his lips as he began again: + +"Curse your ill-omened face! Such men as you are worse than a pestilence. +As a rebel was there not enough blood on your hands? He saved you, why +couldn't you do something to save him?" + +"Mr. Houghton, I did try. I would have perilled even the lives of women." + +"You have virtually murdered him, sir. Did you not say that if he had the +trace of a gentleman in his anatomy he would leave you and yours alone? He +would rather drown than go ashore with you." + +Ella could not help hearing his loud, harsh words, and her long, wailing +cry was their echo. + +At this instant Mrs. Bodine burst into the room, and her slender form +seemed to dilate until a consciousness of her presence filled the +apartment. Her face was more than stern. It wore the commanding expression +of a high-born woman roused to the full extent of an unusually strong +nature. Her dark eyes had an overmastering fire, and her withered cheeks +were red with blood direct from her heart. + +"Listen to me, sir," she said imperiously, "and stop your raving. Do not +forget for another instant that you are a man, and that there are women in +this house whom you are wounding by your brutal words. You, yourself, in +very truth will commit murder, if you do not become sane. Did you not hear +that cry? fit response to language that is like a bludgeon. How are you +worse off than I, who have lost husband, sons, all? Have you not said to +your boy as cruel things as Captain Bodine has said? This son of yours was +too noble, too generous, too lofty for either you or us to understand in +our damnable prejudices and blind hate. Come with me," and, seizing his +hand, she dragged him to where Ella lay, white as death. "There," she +resumed in the same impetuous yet clear-cut tones, "is as pure and good a +girl as ever God created. Was loving her a crime? Go home, and ask God to +forgive you, to take you where your son is in His good time. That poor +child is the real victim. Unless you are mad indeed you will ask her +forgiveness, and go quietly away." + +The old man trembled like a leaf, swayed to and fro between his fierce +conflicting emotions, and then left the house as hastily as he had +entered. As he did so, Ella called after him feebly, but her voice was +unheard. + +The clerk and the colored waiter stood at the open door, and received Mr. +Houghton's tottering form. "Home," he gasped. + +In renewed dread they bore him to his carriage, which Sam drove rapidly +away. By the time he reached his residence he was in almost a fainting +condition, and was carried to his bed. The waiter, who also acted in the +capacity of valet at times, gave the old man stimulants, as he said to the +clerk, "Go for Dr. Devoe: Sam dribe you. Bring 'im wid you quick." + +The old man at last lay still, breathing heavily, and half-consciously +making an instinctive struggle for existence. The shock of his passion and +the weight of an immeasurable loss had been almost beyond endurance to a +man of his age and of his volcanic nature. His physician was soon at his +side, and, with some degree of success, put forth all his skill to rally +his exhausted patient. He at last succeeded in producing a certain degree +of lethargy, which, in benumbing the brain, brought respite from mental +agony. + +The impression of Bodine and all the others with him that young Houghton +had been drowned was natural and almost inevitable. They had seen him +disappear beneath the water, and that was the last that was seen or heard. +The boatman's explanation that the young man had become entangled in the +rigging of the sunken vessel seemed the only way of accounting for the +fact that he did not rise again and strike out for his own boat. The words +of Mr. Houghton, recalling that final sentence of Bodine's, which had +destroyed George's hope and made him feel that he could not approach Ella +again, had greatly augmented the veteran's distress. The thought, once +lodged, could not be banished that the youth, in his wounded pride, might +have silently chosen to brave every danger in order to prove that he was a +"gentleman," and that he would "leave them alone," even at the cost of his +life. This result of his harsh words was crushing to Bodine, and to escape +from its intolerable weight he tried to entertain the hope that George had +found some way of attaining safety as yet unknown. + +The young man had not been drowned, although he had had an exceedingly +narrow escape. It was not the rigging which so endangered his life. As he +rose toward the surface his head struck the pole with which the negro was +accustomed to push his boat around in the shallow water, and the blow was +so stunning that he did no more than instinctively cling to the object +which had injured him. It sustained his weight, but, in the wind-lashed +waves and darkness, he and his support were unseen. The tide was running +out swiftly, and he and the pole had been swept well astern, while Bodine +looked at the spot where they thought he had sunk-a point from which the +negro's frantic oar-strokes were rapidly taking them. + +Gradually George's clouded senses cleared, and at last he recalled all +that had occurred; far too late, however, for his voice to be heard. He +shouted two or three time but soon recognized that his cries were lost in +the dashing waves and howling wind. So far from giving way to panic, he +encouraged himself with the hope that his effort to rescue Ella and those +with her had not been in vain. Pointing the pole toward the city lights, +he tried to make progress by striking out with his feet, but was soon +convinced that he was exhausting himself to little purpose, for both wind +and tide were against him. He therefore let himself float, hoping to be +picked up by some vessel, or, at the worst, to land at Fort Sumter, which +he deemed to be the nearest point of safety. Before very long he heard the +throbbing of a steamer's engine, and soon her lights pierced the gloom. To +get near enough to make his condition known without being run down was now +his aim. She seemed to be coming directly toward him, and he thanked +Heaven that the wind was dying out so that his voice might be heard. + +As soon as he thought the steamer was within hailing distance he began to +shout, "Ship ahoy!" No heed was given until the boat seemed to be almost +upon him, and he swam, with his pole, desperately to the left to avoid +her. Then inflating his lungs he shouted, "Help, if you are men and not +devils!" + +"Hallo there! Man overboard?" + +"I should say so," thundered Houghton. "Slow up, and throw me a rope." + +The wheels were reversed at once. A man near the bow seized a coil of rope +and yelled, "Where are you?" + +"Here!" cried Houghton, splashing the water with his hands. + +The rope flew with a boatman's aim; George grasped it, and, with +sailor-like dexterity, fastened the end around his body under his arms. +Then laying hold of it also with his hands, he cried from the water almost +under the wheel, "Pull." + +In a moment or two he was on deck and besieged with questions. "Boat +swamped in the squall," he replied briefly. "I kept afloat on a pole till +you picked me up. There was another boat that I am anxious about. I'll go +up in the pilot-house and keep a weather-eye open." + +"Well, you're a cool one," said the captain. + +"I've been in the water long enough to get cool. Would you mind lending me +an overcoat or some wrap?" And he escaped from the gathering crowd to the +pilot-house. + +The vessel proved to be a little steamer which plied between the islands +down the harbor and the city. "That was young Houghton," said one of the +passengers. + +"--him!" said another. "It's a pity he and his old money-griper of a dad +are not both at the bottom." + +Wrapped in the captain's greatcoat, George was as comfortable as his +anxieties would permit. No sign of life was upon the dark waters. When the +boat made her landing, he slipped out of his coat, leaped ashore, and, +walking and running alternately, soon reached his father's house. + +Opening the door with his latch-key, he stumbled on Jube, the waiter, who +backed away from him with something like a yell of fear, believing that +his young master had come back in ghostly guise. + +"Shut up, you fool!" said George sternly. "Don't you know me?" + +"O Lawd, Lawd! you ain't a spook, Marse George?" + +"I'll box your ears in a way that will convince you--" + +At this moment Dr. Devoe came hastily from the sickroom, and met George on +the stairs. "Thank God!" exclaimed the physician, "you have escaped. +Caution, now, caution. You must not show yourself to your father till I +give permission." + +"Has he heard? Is he very ill?" George asked, in deep anxiety. + +"Yes, but he'll come through all right, now that you are alive, I've had +to stupefy him partially. He was told that you had been drowned. Go change +your clothes, and be ready when I want you. How did you escape?" + +"Picked up by the steamer 'Firefly.' Did they escape?--I mean Mr. Bodine +and his party." + +"Yes; and, as far as I can make out, left you to drown." + +When the physician returned Mr. Houghton roused a little, and asked, "What +is the matter? Is George ill?" + +"No, he's better." + +The old man closed his eyes, and at last said dreamily, "Yes, he's better, +better off in heaven." + +"Mr. Houghton," said the doctor, kindly, "I've just heard that a man was +picked up by the steamer running between the city and the islands. I don't +give up hope yet." + +"Hope! hope! Do you mean to say there is hope?" + +"I do. If you will be patient we will soon know. I have taken steps to +find out speedily." + +"O God, be merciful! I don't see how I can long survive if he is dead." + +Jube, satisfied that George was in the flesh, followed him to his room, +and aided him in exchanging his wet clothes for dry ones, meanwhile +answering the young man's rapid questions. + +Touched to the very soul by the account of his father's frantic grief, +George's thoughts centred on him, but he asked, "What happened at Mr. +Bodine's?" + +"Dunno, Marse George. Marse Houghton run up de stairs, an' dey took 'im in +a room. Den I heerd loud talkin', an' soon he come runnin' out all kin ob +gone like, and he gasp, 'Home.' We lif him in de kerrige, an Sam dribe as +if de debil was arter 'im. Den we gits de doctor sudden." + +Having dressed, George opened his desk and wrote: + +"CAPTAIN BODINE, + +"Sir--It may relieve you of some natural anxiety to learn that I escaped, +and that I am well and at home. My father is very ill, and absolute quiet +of mind and body is essential. GEORGE HOUGHTON." + +Then he addressed a line to the editor of the daily paper: + +"Rumors of an accident in the harbor and of my being drowned may reach +you. This note is evidence that I am safe and well. I will esteem it a +favor if no mention is made of the affair." + +Despatching Sam with these two missives, he held himself in readiness for +the summons to his father's bedside. + +Dr. Devoe, in his efforts to save his patient from any more nervous +shocks, administered another sedative, and then talked quietly of the +probability of George's escape. + +The old man's mind was far from clear, and in his half dreamy state was +inclined to believe what was said to him. Then the physician pretended to +hear the return of his messenger, and went out for a few moments. When he +came back he saw Mr. Houghton's eyes dilating with fear and hope. + +"Take courage, my friend," he said. "Great joys are dangerous as well as +great sorrows. You must be calm for your son's sake as well as for your +own. He has escaped, as I told you he might, and will see you when you +feel strong enough." + +"Now, now!" + +A moment later the father's arms were about his boy. With gentle, soothing +words and endearing terms George calmed the sobs of the aged man, whose +stern eyes had been so unaccustomed to tears. At last he slept, holding +his son's hand. + +The clerk was dismissed with cordial thanks; George and the physician +watched unweariedly, for the latter said that everything depended on the +patient's condition when he awoke. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +CLOUDS LIFTING + + +In Mrs. Bodine's humbler home there was another patient who also had found +such respite as anodynes can bring. Ella's fair face had become like the +purest marble in its whiteness, but the hot tears had ceased to flow, and +the bosom which had heaved convulsively with anguish was now so still that +the girl scarcely seemed to breathe at all. Captain Bodine, Mara, and old +Hannah were the watchers. Mara now, for the first time, observed how white +the veteran's iron-gray hair had become. He had grown old in a night, +rather in an hour. The strong lines of his face were graven deep; his +troubled eyes were sunken, giving a peculiarly haggard expression to his +countenance. + +Her heart was full of gentleness and sympathy toward him, and of this he +was assured from time to time by her eloquent glances. + +Mrs. Bodine was being cared for by Mrs. Hunter, for she was ill in the +reaction from her strong excitement and unwonted exertion. + +But few hours had passed when there was a ring at the door. All except +Ella looked at each other with startled eyes. What did this late summons +portend? Mara rose to go to the door, but with a silent gesture the +captain restrained her and went down himself. + +"Who is this from?" he asked, as he took the letter from Sam. + +"Fum young Marse Houghton. He ain't drowned no mo'n I be." + +"Thank God!" ejaculated Bodine, with such fervor that he was heard in the +rooms above. + +"Yes," said Sam, "I reckon He de one ter t'ank." Sam had imbibed the +impression that Bodine had left his young master to drown. + +"What is it?" whispered Mara over the banisters. + +"Young Houghton escaped, after all.--Here, my man, is a dollar. Wait a few +minutes, for I may wish to send an answer." + +The gas was burning dimly in the parlor. Turning it up, he read the brief +missive, and recognized from its tone that the young man still had in mind +the veteran's former attitude toward him. He sat down and wrote rapidly: + +"MR. GEORGE HOUGHTON, + +"_Honored Sir_--At this late hour, and with your coachman waiting, I must +be brief. My term, 'Honored Sir,' is no empty phrase, for from the depths +of my heart I do honor your heroic, generous risk of life for me and mine; +and my sentiments are shared by the ladies whom you rescued. I have been +harsh and unjust to you, and I ask your forgiveness. You have conquered my +prejudice utterly. Do not imagine that a Southern man and a Confederate +soldier cannot appreciate such noble magnanimity. + +"Yours in eternal respect and gratitude, + +"HUGH BODINE." + +As he finished it Mara entered, and was astonished at his appearance. The +haggard face, seamed with suffering, that she had looked upon but a few +moments before, was transfigured. Anguish of soul was no longer expressed, +but rather gladness, and the impress of those divine impulses which lead +men to acknowledge their wrong and to make reparation. In the strong light +his white hair was like a halo, and his luminous eyes revealed the good +and the spiritual in the man, as they are manifested only in the best and +supreme moments of life. + +He handed Mara the letter. When she had read it she looked at him with +tear-dimmed eyes, and said: "It is what I should have expected from you." + +After dismissing Sam he returned to the parlor, and, taking the girl's +hand again, began, "God bless you, Mara! You have stood by me, you have +sustained me in the most terrible emergency of my life. There were +features in this ordeal which it seemed impossible for me to endure, which +I could not have endured but for your sympathy and the justice you have +done me in your thoughts. Oh, Mara, do not let me err again. You know I +love you fondly, but your happiness must be first, now and always. In my +wish to make you my wife, let me be sure that I am securing your happiness +even more than my own." + +At that moment she was exalted by an enthusiasm felt to be divine. In her +deep sympathy her heart was tender toward him. She had just seen him put +his old proud self under his feet, as he acknowledged heroic action in one +whom she had thought incapable of it. Could she fail this loved and +honored friend, when a wronged Northern boy had counted his life as naught +to save him? + +Never had her spirit of self-sacrifice so asserted itself before. Indeed, +it no longer seemed to be self-sacrifice, as she gave him her hand, and +said, "Life offers me nothing better than to become your wife." + +He drew her close to his breast, but at this touch of her sacred person, +something deep in her woman's nature shrunk and protested. Even at that +moment she was compelled to learn that the heart is more potent than the +mind, even though it be kindled by the strongest and most unselfish +enthusiasm. Only the deep and subtle principle of love could have given to +that embrace unalloyed repose. Nevertheless she had said what she believed +true, "Life had nothing better for her." + +As Ella still slept quietly, Bodine insisted that Mara should retire, +saying, "I and old Hannah can do all that is required." + +"But you need rest more than I," Mara protested. + +"No. Gladness has banished sleep from my eyes, and I must be at Ella's +side when she wakes." + +Mara was glad to obey, for no divine exhilaration had come to her. She was +not strong, and a reaction approaching exhaustion was setting in. + +In the dawn of the following day Ella began to stir uneasily in her sleep, +to moan and sigh. Vaguely the unspent force of her grief was reasserting +itself, as the benumbing effects of anodynes passed from her brain. Her +father motioned Hannah to leave the apartment, and then took Ella's hand. +At last she opened her eyes, and looked at him in a dazed, troubled way. +"Oh!" she moaned, "I've had such dreadful dreams. Have I been ill?" + +"Yes, Ella dear, very ill, but you are better now. The worst is well +over." + +"Dear papa, have you been watching all night?" + +"That's a very little thing to do, Ella darling." + +She lay silent for a few moments, and then began to sob, "Oh, I remember +all now. He's dead, dead, dead." + +"Ella," said her father gently, taking her hands from her face, "I do not +believe he is dead. There is a report that he escaped--that he was picked +up by a steamer." + +She sat up instantly, as if all her strength had returned, and, with her +blue eyes dilating through her tears, exclaimed, "Oh, papa, don't keep me +on the rack of suspense! Give me life by telling me that he lives." + +"Yes, Ella, he is alive. He has written to me, and I have answered in the +way that you would wish." + +She threw her arms about his neck in an embrace that was almost +convulsive, and then sank back exhausted. + +"Now, Ella darling, for all our sakes you must keep quiet and composed;" +and he gave her a little of the strong nourishment which the physician had +ordered. + +For a long time she lay still with a smile upon her lips. In her +feebleness one happy thought sufficed, "He is not dead!" + +At last a faint color stole into her cheeks, and she asked: "What did you +write, papa?" + +He repeated his letter almost verbatim. + +"That was enough, papa," she said, with a sigh of relief. "It was very +noble in you to write in that way." + +"No, Ella, it was simple justice." + +She gave him a smile which warmed his heart. After a little while she +again spoke. "Go and rest, papa. I feel that I can sleep again. Oh, thank +God! thank God! His sun is rising on a new heaven and a new earth." + +Kissing her fondly, her father halted away. Old Hannah resumed her watch, +but was soon relieved by Mara. + +When George read Captain Bodine's letter the night grew luminous about +him. He had not expected any such acknowledgment. With characteristic +modesty he had underrated his own action, and he had not given Bodine +credit for the degree of manhood possessed by him. Indeed, he had almost +feared that both father and daughter might be embarrassed and burdened by +a sense of obligation, whose only effect would be to make them miserable. +Generous himself, he was deeply touched by the proud man's absolute +surrender, and he at once appreciated the fine nature which had been +revealed by the letter. + +"Now," he reasoned, "as far as her father is concerned, the way is open +for me to seek Ella's love by patient and devoted attentions. I shall at +last have the chance which was impossible when I could not approach her at +all. After this experience I believe that my own dear father will be +softened, and be led to see how much better are happiness and content than +ambitious schemes." + +But Mr. Houghton was destined to disappoint his son. He awoke very feeble +in body, and not very clear in mind. His one growing desire was to get +away from Charleston. "I don't ever wish to look on that accursed harbor +again," he repeated over and over. + +"We must humor him in every way possible," Dr. Devoe said to George, "and +as soon as he is strong enough you must take him North." + +George's heart sank at these words, and at others which his father +constantly reiterated. + +"I wish to get away from this city, George," he would say feebly. "I will +go anywhere, only to be away from this town and its people. Oh, I've had +such a warning! This is no place for you or me. Its people are aliens. +They destroyed one of my boys, and they have nearly cost you your life, as +well as your happiness and success in life. Oh, that terrible old woman, +with her tongue of fire! She looked and talked like an accusing fiend. I +want to go away from it all, and forget it all--that such a place and +people exist. Help me get strong, doctor, and then George and I will go, +as Lot fled from Sodom." + +"Yes, Mr. Houghton," Dr. Devoe would answer, "all your wishes shall be +carried out;" and this assurance would pacify the old man for a time. + +When alone with George the physician would add: "You see how it is, my +young friend. Your father is in such a feeble, wavering state of mind and +body that we must make it all clear sailing for him. Even if he asks for +what is impossible, we must appear to gratify him. Anything which disturbs +his mind will be injurious to his physical health." + +George could not but admit the truth of the doctor's words, and he +manfully faced his duty, hoping that the future still had possibilities. + +After getting some much-needed sleep the day following his escape, he +wrote: + +"MY DEAR CAPTAIN BODINE--If I had known you better your letter would not +have been such an agreeable surprise. Please do me the favor not to +over-estimate my effort for you and those with you--an effort which any +man would have made. That it was successful, is as much a cause for +gratitude in my own case as in yours. Please present my compliments to the +ladies, and express my hope that they suffered no ill effects from their +hasty exchange of boats. I trust that the stupid boatman, who was to blame +for your disaster, will not attempt to navigate anything more complicated +than a wheelbarrow hereafter. I regret to say that my father is still very +ill, and that his physician enjoins the utmost care and quiet until he +recovers from his nervous shock. With much respect, I am, Gratefully +yours, + +"GEORGE HOUGHTON." + +When Ella's physician came the following day, he found his patient so much +better that he could not account for it until he had heard the glad news. +The healthful, elastic nature of the girl rallied swiftly. George's second +letter was handed her to read, and she kept it. Being clever with her +pencil, she made a ludicrous caricature of the colored boatman caught in a +gale with a wheelbarrow. Her smile was glad now, for hope grew stronger +every moment. Her right to love was now unquestioned, and even her proud +father and cousin had only words of respect and admiration for the lover +who, in a few brief moments, had vindicated the manhood which she had +recognized in the first moments of their chance encounter. + +She could not believe that Mr. Houghton would remain obdurate when he +recovered sufficiently to think the matter over calmly. "Our papas," she +thought, with a little sigh and a smile, "have learned that burying their +children is a rather serious matter after all." + +When two or three days passed, however, and no further communication had +been received from George, her father thought it wise to say a few words +of caution. "Ella," he began, "you are now strong enough to look at this +matter in all its bearings. Young Mr. Houghton probably finds that his +father is as adverse to his thoughts of you as ever. He has himself also +had time for many second thoughts, and--" + +"Papa," said the girl, with a reproachful glance, "you have not yet +learned to do George Houghton justice. At the same time I wish neither you +nor any one else to give him the slightest hint of my feelings, nor to say +anything to him of my illness and what occurred in the boat. He asked +permission to pay his addresses, and he's got to pay them, principal and +interest, if I wait till I am as gray as you are. Dear papa, how you must +have suffered! To think that one's hair should turn white so soon! Haven't +I got a little gray, too?" + +She looked at herself in the mirror, but the late afternoon sun turned her +light tresses, which she never could keep smooth, into an aureole of gold. + +Mr. Houghton rallied slowly, but grew calmer and more rational with time. +He wished to see his confidential clerk on business, but Dr. Devoe said +gently but firmly, "Not yet." He began to permit, however, a daily written +statement from the office that all was going well. During this +convalescence George felt that he must take no middle course. He resolved +to have no further communication with Captain Bodine, and not to do +anything which, if it came to his father's knowledge, would retard his +recovery. One thing, however, he was resolved upon. In carrying out his +father's wishes he would draw the line at an ambitious alliance at the +North. "Since I have conquered Captain Bodine," he muttered, with a little +resolute nod of his head: "I will subdue my own paternal ancestor; then +the way will be open for a siege of the fair citadel, the peerless little +baker. No wonder her cakes seemed all sugar and spice." Thus George often +mused, complacently regardless of the incongruous terms bestowed upon Ella +in his thoughts. + +Sometimes these reveries brought smiles to his face, and more than once he +started and flushed as he observed his father looking at him searchingly +yet wistfully. + +Meanwhile he scarcely left the old man night or day. He slept on a cot by +his side, and at the slightest movement was awake, and ready to anticipate +wishes before they could be spoken. On the last day of August his father +was well enough to be up and dressed most of the forenoon. + +George began to read the beloved Boston papers, but Mr. Houghton soon +said: "That will do, I'm in no mood for dog-day politics. Go off and amuse +yourself, as long as you don't go near the harbor." + +"I've no wish to go out, father. When the sun is low I'll take a tramp of +a mile or two." + +"In a week or so more I think I'll be able to travel, George." + +"I hope so." + +"I fear you don't wish to leave Charleston." + +"I wish to do what is best for your health." + +Then a long silence followed, each busy with his own thoughts. + +At last Mr. Houghton said: "It's strange we've heard nothing from those +Bodines. They appear to accept their lives from your hand as a matter of +course;" and the old man watched the effect of these tentative words. + +George flushed, but said gently: "Dear father, try to be just, even in +your enmities. I have heard from Captain Bodine, and--" + +"What! have you been corresponding with them, and all that?" interrupted +Mr. Houghton irritably. "Why didn't you tell me?" + +"I merely replied to Mr. Bodine's note the day after the accident. Since +then I have not heard from any of the rescued party, nor have I made the +slightest effort to do so. Dr. Devoe said you required quiet of body and +mind, and I have not done anything which would interfere with this." + +"Thank you, my boy, thank you heartily. I shall owe my life more to your +faithful attendance than to Dr. Devoe." + +"I am glad to hear you say that, whether it is true or not. I wish you to +live many years, and to take the rest to which a long and laborious life +entitles you. I will show you Captain Bodine's letter if you wish." + +"Well, let me see what the rebel has to say for himself." + +"Humph!" Mr. Houghton ejaculated, finishing the letter. "What did you say +in reply?" + +George repeated the substance of his note. + +"And nothing has passed between him, his daughter, or you since?" + +"Nothing whatever." + +"I suppose by this time that little gust of passion, inspired by the +daughter's pretty face, has passed?" and he looked at his son keenly. + +"It would have passed, father, if it had been only a gust of passion, and +inspired merely by a pretty face." + +"Humph! Do you mean to say that you love her still?" + +"I cannot control my heart, only my actions." + +"You will give her up then, since it is my wish?" + +"I cannot give up loving her, father. If I had drowned and gone to another +world I feel that I would have carried my love with me." + +There was another long silence, and then Mr. floughton said, "But you will +control your action?" + +"My action, father, shall be guided by most considerate loyalty to you." + +"But you will not promise never to marry her?" + +"It is true, indeed, that I may never marry her, for I have no reason +whatever to think that she cares for me in any such way as I do for her. +As long as her father felt as he did, I could not approach her. As long as +you feel as you do, I cannot seek her, but to give her up deliberately +would be doing violence to the best in my nature. I know my love is the +same as that which you had for mother, and God would punish a man who +tried to put his foot on such a love. I feel that it would keep me from +the evil of the world." + +"The first thing you know, George, you will be wishing that I am dead." + +"No, father, no!" his son cried impulsively. "You would do me wicked wrong +in thinking that. A foolish, guilty passion might probably lead to such +thoughts, but not a pure, honest love, which prompts to duty in every +relation in life. I can carry out your every plan for me without +bolstering myself by marrying wealth and position. My self-respect revolts +at the idea. A woman that I loved could aid me far more than the +wealthiest and highest born in the land. I believe that in time you will +see these things as I cannot help seeing them. Until then I can be +patient. I certainly will not jeopardize your health by doing what is +contrary to your wishes. Don't you think we had better drop the subject +for the present?" + +"Yes, I think we had," said Mr. Houghton sadly, but without any appearance +of irritation. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +"YES, VILET" + + +With the exception of Aun' Sheba's household, the final days of August +were passing quietly and uneventfully to the other characters of our +story. Little Vilet had received something like a sunstroke, and she never +rallied. Day and night she lay on her cot, usually wakeful and always +patient. It would seem that her vital forces were sapped, for she grew +steadily weaker and thinner. Aun' Sheba did little else than wait on and +watch her, except when Kern was home. When off duty at the fire +department, he would permit no one else to do anything for his child but +himself. The little girl preferred his attendance even to that of her +mother, and the strong man would carry her up and down his little yard in +the cool night air by the hour, or rock her to sleep on his breast when +the sun was high. No touch was so gentle as his, or so soothing. He would +hush his great, mellow voice into soft, melodious tones as he sung her +favorite hymns, and often her feeble treble would blend with his rich +baritone. He yearned over her with inexpressible tenderness, counting the +minutes when on duty till the hour came which permitted his return. + +In his agony of apprehension "his flesh jes drap off'n him," as Aun' Sheba +and his wife said. He slept little and ate little, but was always punctual +at the engine-house to the minute. + +Mara and Ella visited the child daily, and tried to tempt her failing +appetite with delicacies. Sissy, Vilet's mother, hovered about her child +most of the time, when her housekeeping duties and the care of the other +children permitted, but after all her chief solicitude centred in her +husband. She and Aun' Sheba often said, "Kern, ef de Lawd wants her we mus +jes gib her up. De Hebenly Fader hab de fust right." + +"I hab my feelins all de same," Kern would reply. "Ef de Lawd put sech +feelins in my heart I can't help it." + +On the evening of the 31st of August, Vilet was very feeble. The closeness +and heat oppressed her. All, except Uncle Sheba, made a poor pretence of +supper. Nothing affected his appetite, and, having cleared the table, he +went over to his own doorstep and lighted his pipe. Before it was finished +he was dozing comfortably against the doorcase. Aun' Sheba, with a great +sigh, lighted her pipe also, and sat down on the Watson steps with her +daughter that they might breathe cooler air. Kern took up his little +daughter, and began to walk in the yard and sing as usual. + +"Well," ejaculated Aun' Sheba, "Missy Mara's call yis-tidy 'lieve my min' +po'ful. I'se couldn't tromp de streets wid a basket now nohow. Missy Mara +say she won' begin bakin' till I'm ready. She look too po'ly to tink ob it +hersef. Lor! what a narrow graze she an de res ob dem hab! No won'er she +all broken up. Dat awful 'scape keeps runnin ebin in my dreams. Bress de +good Lawd dat brung Marse Houghton right dar in time!" + +"Missy Ella an' Marse Houghton oughter hab dey own way now, shuah," Sissy +remarked. + +"I reckon dey will," Aun' Sheba answered. "Missy Ella look kin'er +dat-a-way. Dey was all agin her 'fore de ax'dent, but now I reckon dey's +all cabed in, from what she says, eben ef she ain't talkin' much. I 'specs +ole man Houghton is de mos' sot;" and then their anxious thoughts reverted +to the sick child. + +"Daddy," said Vilet, when her father had finished a hymn, "I wants ter +talk wid you." + +"Well, chile, wot you wants ter say?" + +"I wants you ter let me go to Hebin, daddy." + +"I doesn't feel dat I kin spar' you, Vilet," and she felt his tears +dropping on her cheeks. + +"Yes, daddy, you kin, fer a little while. I'se gittin' so-o tired," and +she sighed wearily, "an' you'se gittin' all worn out too." + +"No, deah chile, I'd ruder tote you all de res' ob my bawn days. I +couldn't stan' comin' home an' not fin' you lookin' fer me nohow." + +Vilet thought a while in silence and then said, "Daddy, I'se keep +a-lookin' fer you jes de same. I'se gwine ter ax de good Lawd ter gib me a +little place on de wall near de pearly gate, an' dar I'se watch an' wait +till you come, an' moder, an' granny all come. I kin watch bettah up dar, +fer I won' be so bery, bery tired. Won' you let me go? 'Pears I couldn't +go to Hebin widout you says, 'Yes, Vilet.'" + +The man's powerful frame trembled like an aspen; convulsive sobs heaved +his breast as he carried the child to the further corner of the yard. At +last he buried his face in her neck and whispered, "Yes, Vilet." + +"Dat's good an' kin' ob you, daddy. You fin' me waitin' and lookin' fer +you, shuah." + +Kern grew calm after his mighty struggle, and, in his simple faith, +believed that angels were around him, ready to take his child when he +should lay her down. He began to sing again, and, a little before nine +o'clock, repaired to his post of duty. + +As the days passed without any further communication from Houghton +whatever, Ella's first glow of hope began to pale. She tried to banish all +other thoughts except that Mr. Houghton was very ill or as obdurate as +ever. On the last day of August, however, she heard a rumor that the +invalid was better, and that his son was soon to take him North. Then her +faith began to falter. If George should go away without seeing her, +without a word or a line, what must she think? The tears would come at +this possibility. She had noted that her father and cousin had ceased to +speak of him, and that their bearing toward her was very gentle, giving +her the impression of that deep yet delicate sympathy which is felt for +one destined to pass through a very painful ordeal. + +On the evening of this miserable day she yielded, for the first time, to +great dejection, and was about to retire to her room early when Mrs. +Bodine said kindly, "Don't go away, Ella. I feel strangely oppressed, as +if I could scarcely breathe." + +"I feel oppressed too, Cousin Sophy." + +"Yes, dear child, I know you are grieving. I wish I could help you." + +"Oh, Cousin Sophy, it would be so much harder to bear now! He looked so +grand as he loomed up in the gloom of that terrible night! His eyes seemed +like living coals; his action was swift and decided, showing that his mind +was as clear as his courage was high. He seemed to take in everything at a +glance, and in breaking my hold of papa's hand he almost the same as saved +my life twice. And then his leap into the sinking boat, and the almost +giant strength with which he flung papa into his own!--oh, I see it all so +often, and my heart always seems to go down with him when, in fancy, I see +him sink. It was all so heroic, so in accord with my ideal of a man! Why, +Cousin Sophy, he was so sensible about it all! He did just the right thing +and the only thing that could be done, except that horrid sinking. I can't +help feeling that if he had got into the boat with us all would have come +about right. Oh, that stupid, cowardly negro boatman! Well, well, somehow +I fear to-night that I've only been saved to suffer a heartache all my +life." + +"I hope not, Ella dear. I cannot think so. God rarely permits to any life +either unalloyed suffering or happiness." + +"There, Cousin Sophy, I'm forgetting that you are suffering now. I'll put +on my wrapper, and then fan you till you get asleep." + +The captain meantime was solacing himself with thoughts of Mara--thoughts +not wholly devoid of anxiety, for she appeared to be growing thin and +losing strength in spite of her assurances to the contrary. + +Mr. Houghton had not been so well in the afternoon and evening, and George +did not leave him. As the evening advanced the sultriness increased. Since +his father seemed quiet, and lay with his eyes closed, he installed Jube +in his place with the fan, and went out into the open air. He found, with +surprise, that he obtained scarcely any relief from the extreme closeness +which had oppressed him indoors. He threw off even the light coat he wore, +and walked up and down the gravel roadway in his shirtsleeves with the +restlessness which great heat imparts to the full-blooded and strong. Sam +sat near the barn-door, smoking his pipe. At last he said, "Marse George, +'spose I took out de hosses an let dem stan in de open." + +"What's the matter with them?" + +"Dunno, 'less it's de po'ful heat. Dey's bery oneasy." + +"All right. Tie them outside here." + +At this moment the watch-dog gave a long, piteous howl, and crept into his +kennel. + +"That's queer," George remarked. "What's the matter with the dog?" + +"Pears as eberyting's gettin quar dis ebnin," Sam replied, knocking the +ashes from his pipe and rising. "You'se pinter dar's been kin ob scrugin +up agin me, an he neber do dat befo'. Now he's right twixt you'se legs es +if he was feerd on someting." + +George caressed the dog, and said: "What's up, old fellow?" and then was +perplexed that, instead of answering him with wonted playfulness, the poor +brute should begin to whine and yelp. The horses came out as if escaping +from their stalls, but on reaching the door sniffed the air, stopped, and +seemed reluctant to go further. + +"Dey's eider gone crazy, or sump'n gwine ter happen," Sam affirmed, +looking up and around uneasily. + +At this moment the pointer broke away from George's caressing hand, and +with a howl such as he had never been heard to utter, slunk away and +disappeared. + +"I declare, Sam, I don't know what to make of it all. The air is getting +so hot and close that I can scarcely breathe." + +The horses now came out hastily, and began to snort and whinny. Then they +put their heads over Sam's shoulder, with that instinct to seek human +protection often noted in domestic animals. + +"Marse George, dey _is_ sump'n gwine ter happen. See dese bosses yere; see +ole Brune dar. He darsn't stay in de ken'l an' he darsn't stay out. Heah +how oder dogs is howlin. Dey is sump'n gwine ter--O good Lawd! what's +dat?" + +George's nerves were healthy and strong, but his hair rose on his head and +his knees smote for a second as he heard what seemed a low, ominous roar. +Having a confused impression that the sound came from the street he rushed +toward it, but by the time he reached the front of the house the awful +sound had grown into a thunder peal which was in the earth beneath and the +air above. Obeying the impulse to reach his father, he sprung up the steps +and dashed through the open door. As he did so the solid mansion rocked +like a skiff at sea; the heavy portico under which he had just passed fell +with a terrific crash; all lights went out; while he, stunned and bleeding +from the falling plaster, clung desperately to the banisters, still +seeking to reach his father. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +THE EARTHQUAKE + + +Owen Clancy was also leading a dual life, and when, at times, conscience +compelled introspection, he was ill at ease, for he could not fail to +recognize that his sinister side was gaining ascendency. With a feeling +bordering on recklessness he banished compunctions, and yielded himself +more completely to the inspiration of ambition and the fascinations of +Miss Ainsley. It had become evident that Mara was either engaged to Bodine +or soon would be, and the thought imbittered and hardened his nature. He +gave the day to business, and in the evening was rarely absent from Miss +Ainsley's side. + +Mrs. Willoughby had invited a small whist party to meet at her house on +the evening of the 31st, and Clancy of course was among the number. + +Before sitting down to their games there was some desultory conversation, +of which young Houghton's exploit was the principal theme. Mrs. Willoughby +was enthusiastic in his praise, and even the most prejudiced yielded +assent to her words. Equally strong in their commendation were Miss +Ainsley and Clancy, and the latter, who had called on Houghton, explained +how admirably he had managed his boat in effecting the rescue, and related +the incidents of his narrow escape. Although there had been no published +record of the affair, the main particulars had become very generally +known, and the tide of public favor was turning rapidly toward Houghton, +for the act was one that would especially commend itself to a brave +people. Of the secret and inner history, known only to herself, Mrs. +Willoughby did not speak, and in all comment a sharp line of division was +drawn between George and his father. + +Then conversation turned upon the slight earthquake tremor which had been +experienced in Charleston and Summerville on the previous Friday. This +phenomenon, scarcely noticed at the time and awakening no especial alarm, +had been brought into greater prominence by the very serious disturbances +in Greece on the following day, August 29, and some theories as to the +causes were briefly and languidly discussed. + +Then Clancy remarked lightly, "We had our share of disaster in the last +August's cyclone. Lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place. The +jar of Friday was only a little sympathetic symptom in old mother Earth, +who, like other mothers and women in general, are said to be subject to +nervous attacks. Suppose we settle down to our games." + +"Nervous attacks in mother Earth and mother Eve's daughters are serious +affairs, I'd have you understand, Mr. Clancy," laughed Mrs. Willoughby. + +"And very mysterious," he added. "Who can account for either?" + +"There is no reason why they should be accounted for in our case," Miss +Ainsley remarked. "Woman should always remain a mystery." + +"Yes, I suppose she must so remain in her deepest nature," he replied, +sotto voce, "but is there any need for small secrecies?" + +"That question would have to be explained before I could answer it. Will +you deal?" + +He was her partner. They played quietly for an hour, and then the wife of +the gentleman opposed to them rose and said: "The heat is so great I shall +have to be excused"; and, with her husband, she bade Mrs. Willoughby +goodnight. + +Clancy and Miss Ainsley repaired to the balcony, the latter taking her +favorite seat, and leaning her head against the ivy-entwined pillar. She +knew the advantages of this locality, for while she was hidden from the +occupants of the parlor, the light shone through the open French windows +in sufficient degree to reveal the graceful outlines of her person, which +was draped as scantily on that hot night as fashion permitted. + +"How stifling the air is!" she remarked. "I'm glad to escape from the +lighted room, yet am surprised that we obtain so little relief out here." + +"It is strange," Clancy replied. "I scarcely remember such a sultry +evening. From what I've read I should be inclined to think it was an +earthquake atmosphere, or else that it portended a storm." + +"Now don't croak," she said. "The stars are shining, and there is no sign +of a storm. You have already proved that an earthquake cannot occur. You +know the old saying about worry over what never happens. The true way to +enjoy life is to take the best you can get out of it each day as it comes. +Don't you think so?" + +"A very embarrasing question if I should answer it honestly," he replied, +laughing. + +"How so?" Never had the brilliant fire in her eyes been so soft and +alluring. She had detected a slight tremor in his voice, and had seen an +answering fire in his eyes. Although conscious of a rising and delicious +excitement in her own veins, she believed from much experience that in her +perfect self-control she could prevent him from saying too much. Even if +he did overstep the liberal bounds which she was willing to accord, she +thought, "I can rally him back into our old relations if I so wish." + +What she did wish, she scarcely knew herself, and the thought passed +through her mind, "I may accept him after all." + +He shared her mood, with the exception that he had decided long since to +obtain her hand if she was disposed to give it. To-night, more than ever, +he felt the recklessness which had been growing upon him, and was inclined +to follow her lead to the utmost, even warily to go beyond such +encouragement as he might receive. He therefore replied vaguely, "One may +wish the best in life, and not be able to obtain it." + +"I see nothing embarrassing in that commonplace remark." + +"There might be in its application." + +"Possibly. Who knows to what one and one make two might lead?--a murder, +like enough." + +"Sometimes one and one make one." + +"How odd! Still more so, that you should indulge in abstruse mathematics +this hot night." + +"That reminds me that a man is said to be merely a vulgar fraction till he +is married, when he is redeemed into a whole number." + +"If I were equal to it, I'd get a pencil, and preserve such great nuggets +of abstract truth." + +"When you are so concretely and distractingly enchanting, what other +refuge is there for a man than the abstract?" + +"Is the abstract a refuge?" she asked, looking dreamily out over the dark +waters of the harbor. "Perhaps it is. It certainly suggests coolness which +should be grateful tonight." Then turning, and with a mirthful and +provoking gleam in her eyes, he remarked, "I should think this weather +would be just to your taste." + +"Why so?" + +"Oh, you have become enough of a Yankee to guess." + +"Would you say that even this furnace-like air cannot quicken my blood?" + +"My friend, I do not believe that anything could quicken your pulse one +beat." + +"I'll demonstrate the contrary," he said, with a quick flash in his eyes. +"Put your finger on my pulse." + +She laughingly did so. By a slight, quick movement he clasped her hand, +and it appeared to him that the passion which he knew to be in his face +was reflected in hers. She did not withdraw her hand. For an instant there +was a subtle, swift interchange of thought. She saw he was about to speak +plainly, passionately; she felt herself yielding as never before in all +her experience. It was as if a wave of emotion was lifting and sweeping +her away. He held her eyes; a smile began to part her lips; the thought +came to him that words were not essential, that she was giving herself to +him through the agency of the brilliant eyes which at the first had +awakened his wondering surmises. He gently drew her to her feet, and she +did not resist. He bent toward her that he might look deeper into her rosy +face, and felt her sweet breath coming quickly against his cheek. Then, as +his lips parted to speak, a low, deep sound far to the southeast caught +his attention. Still clasping hands they faced it. With awful rapidity it +approached, increasing, deepening, pervading the air to the sky, bellowing +as if from the centre of the earth, filling their ears with its +unutterable and penetrating power, and appalling their hearts by its +supernatural weirdness. They shrank before it down the balcony and through +the window into the drawing-room, cowering, trembling, speechless. + +They were scarcely within the apartment before the large, substantial +mansion rocked as if it had been a cork, and the waters of the harbor had +passed under it. The balcony on which they had stood an instant before +went down, leaving gaping darkness in its place. + +With an agonized shriek Miss Ainsley threw her arms about Clancy. As with +uncertain footing he sought to place her on a sofa they were both thrown +violently upon it. He saw the chandeler swaying to and fro, as if a +thousand lights were dancing before his eyes; saw the other guests +staggering and falling. Statuettes, bric-a-brac, and articles of furniture +came crashing down; part of the ceiling fell with a thud, raising a +stifling dust, which, choking the shrieking voices, rendered more distinct +the grinding sound, as walls of solid masonry drew apart, gaped, and +closed under the impulse of immeasurable power. + +Above all rose the mysterious thunder, which was not thunder, because now +it seemed to come from unknown depths. Time is but relative, and the +occupants of the room felt as if they were passing through an eternity of +agony. + +The climax of horror was reached when the gas was extinguished, and all +were left in pitchy darkness. It seemed as if reason itself would go, but +as suddenly as the convulsion had begun, it ceased. There was a second or +two of breathless waiting, and then Clancy shouted, "Come, quick. There +may be another shock." + +With his right hand he struck a match, and, supporting Miss Ainsley by his +left arm, led the way. + +"Oh, what is it?" she gasped. + +"An earthquake. Come; courage. We must get away from all buildings." Half +lifting her, he swiftly sought the street, and then the adjacent open +ground of the Battery. + +"All here?" he asked, panting, and looking around. The others soon +appeared, Mr. Willoughby coming last, and carrying his half-fainting wife. +The negro servants had preceded, and were already on their knees, groaning +and praying. From every side other fugitives were pouring in. + +"Miss Ainsley, you are with friends and as safe here as you can be +anywhere," Clancy said hastily. "There are others in the heart of the +city," and he dashed away, regardless of her appealing cry to return. + +As Clancy rushed up Meeting Street he felt that any moment might be his +last, and yet he was more appalled at himself than at the awful sights +about him. The human mind in such crises is endowed with wonderful +capacity. It seemed to him that his eyes took in all details as he passed, +and that his brain comprehended them. People were rushing from their +homes, or carrying out the feeble and injured. His way was impeded by +fugitives, whose faces were seen by the street-lamps to be ghastly pale +and horror-stricken. The awful impression of the final day of doom was +heightened by the comparative nudity of many, both men and women; and +among the multitudinous images passing through Clancy's mind was a picture +of the Judgment Day by one of the old masters, with its naked, writhing +human forms. + +The air was resonant with every tone of anguish, hoarse shoutings, shrill +screams, and the plaintive cries of children. Above all other sounds +articulate and inarticulate was heard the word "God," as the stricken +people appealed to Him, some on their knees, others as they stood dazed +and almost paralyzed, and others still as they rushed toward open places +for safety. + +"Yes, God," muttered Clancy. "May He forgive me for having forgotten Him! +There are but two thoughts left in this wreck, God and Mara. How unworthy +were my recent motives and passion! How unlike the love which leads me +inevitably to breathe the name of Mara in my appeal to God!" + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +"GOD" + + +Had Mara's heart been hers to keep or to give when she met Bodine, she +could easily have learned to love him for his own sake. Mrs. Bodine's +impression was well founded, that Mara, unlike most girls, was suited to +such an alliance. The trouble was, that, before Bodine became friend, then +lover, she had given to Clancy what she could not recall, although she +strove to do so with a will singularly resolute, and from the strongest +convictions of hopeless discord between him and herself. With the purpose +to make her father's friend happy was also blended the powerful motive to +extricate herself. She had felt that she must tear up by the roots the +affection which had been growing for years before she had recognized it, +and at times, as we have seen, thought it was yielding to the unrelenting +grasp of her will. Again, discouraged and appalled by its hold upon every +fibre of her being, she would recognize how futile had been her efforts. +She could not, like many others, divert her thoughts and preoccupy her +mind by various considerations apart from the truth that she had promised +to marry a man whom she did not love. Although so warped, her nature was +too simple, too concentrated, to permit any weak drifting toward events. +She believed that her life had narrowed down to Bodine, and she had +decided to become his devoted wife at every cost to herself, flow great +that cost would be she was learning sadly, day by day and hour by hour. As +we know, she had permitted Bodine to learn her purpose at a time of +excitement and enthusiasm--at a time when his profound distress touched +her deepest sympathies. She had also hoped, that, when the irrevocable +words had been spoken on each side, the calm of fixed purpose and +certainty would fall upon her spirit. + +She had been disappointed. She trembled with a strange dread whenever she +recalled the moment when Bodine drew her to himself, conscious now of a +truth, before unknown, that there was something in her nature not amenable +to enthusiasm, spiritual exaltation, or her passion for +self-sacrifice--something that would not shrink from death for his sake +yet which did shrink from his kisses upon her lips. + +Never had she suffered as during the last few days, for she was being +taught by the inexorable logic of facts and events. In Ella's crystal +nature she saw what her own love should be, and might have been. She had +witnessed the girl's wild impulse to follow her lover to the depths of the +harbor, and her own heart gave swift interpretation. She was alive because +a Northern boy, deemed incapable of anything better than selfish, reckless +love-making, had unhesitatingly risked his life to save one who had +spurned him. Even Mrs. Hunter's prejudice had been compelled to yield, and +she to admit the young fellow's nobility, of which she was a living proof. +The wretched thought haunted Mara that Owen Clancy, unblinded, had +discovered for himself, what had been forced upon her, that there were +Northern people with whom he could gladly affiliate. The shadow of death +had not been so dark and baleful as the shadow of the past in which she so +long had dwelt, for in the former there had been light enough to reveal +the folly and injustice of indiscriminating prejudice and enmity. Worse +than all these thoughts, piercing like shafts of light the darkness which +had obscured her judgment, was the truth, upon which she could not reason, +that she shrunk with an ever-increasing dread from words and acts of love +unprompted by her heart. + +Like a rock, however, amid all this chaos--this breaking up of the old +which left nothing stable in its place--remained her purpose to go +forward. On this evening which was to witness a wilder chaos than that of +her long-repressed yet passionate heart, she had said sternly, "My word +has been passed, my honor is involved, and he shall never learn that I +have trembled and faltered." + +Mrs. Hunter had retired, overcome by the heat, and, believing that she +could endure the sultriness better in the little parlor, Mara had turned +down the gas, and was sitting by an open window. The city seemed +singularly quiet. The street on which she dwelt contained a large +population, yet the steps on the pavement were comparatively few. Her own +languor was general, and people sought refuge in the seclusion and the +undress permitted in their own homes. + +In a vague, half-conscious way she wondered that a large city could be so +still at that hour. "Like myself," she murmured, "it is half shrouded in +gloom and gives but slight hint of much that is hidden, that ever must be +hidden.--I wonder where he is to-night. Oh, I've no right to think of him +at all. Why can't I say, 'Stop,' and end it?--this miserable stealing away +of my thoughts until will, like a jailer, pursues and drags them back. Why +should a presentiment of danger to him weigh down my spirit to-night? What +other peril can he be exposed to except that of marrying a beauty and an +heiress? Ah! peril enough, if his heart shrinks like mine. Here, now, +_quit_," and the word came sharply and angrily in her self-condemnation. + +Then in the silence began that distant groan of nature. It was so +distinct, so unlike anything she had ever heard in its horrible suggestion +of all physical evil that she shrank from the window overwhelmed by a +nameless dread. Instinctively she turned up the gas, that she might not +face the terror in darkness. As she did so she thought of the rush and +roar of the last year's cyclone, but in the next breath learned that this +was something infinitely worse--what, she was too confused and terrified +to imagine. Then she was thrown to the floor. Raising herself partially on +a chair she witnessed an event which paralyzed her with horror. The wall +toward the street, with its mirror, pictures, windows, and all pertaining +to it fell outward with a crash. + +For a second all was still, as she looked into the darkness which had +swallowed up the front and sheltering side of her home. Then immediately +about her began a wail of human anguish which grew in agonized intensity, +gathering volume far and near until it became like the death-cry of a +city. Unconsciously she was joining in it--that involuntary "oh-h," that +crescendo tidal wave of sound sweeping upward from despairing humanity. +Then this mighty and bitter cry seemed to become articulate in the word +"God." With an instinct swift, inevitable, and irresistible as the power +that had shaken the city, the thought of God as the only other power able +to cope with the mysterious destroyer, entered into all hearts and found +expression. + +Clouds of stifling, whitish-looking dust now came pouring into the +unprotected apartment, obscuring the street and rendering dim even the +familiar objects near the terrified girl. For a few moments the nervous +shock was so great that Mara felt as if paralyzed. She remained lying on +the floor, half supporting herself by the chair, waiting in breathless +expectation for she knew not what. The malign power had been so vast, and +its work so swift, that even her fearless spirit was overwhelmed. + +The shrieks, groans, and prayers, the hurrying steps in the dust-clouded +street at last forced upon her attention the fact that all were seeking to +escape from the buildings. With difficulty she regained her feet and +tottered to Mrs. Hunter's room, but found, to her dismay, that she could +not open the door. She called and even shrieked, but there was no answer. +A sense of utter desolation and helplessness overpowered her. Who could +come to her aid? Bodine could not. At such a time he would be almost +helpless himself, and there were women in his charge. With a bitterness +also akin to the death, which she momentarily expected, she knew that her +thoughts had flown to Clancy and to no other human being at that hour. She +was learning what all others discovered in the stress of the earthquake, +that everything not absolutely essential to life and soul was swept away +and almost forgotten. + +To go into the street and get help seemed her only resource, and she made +her way down the stairs to where had been the doorway. In vain she +appealed to the flying forms. Her cries were unheard in the awful din of +shrieks, prayers, groans, and calls of the separated to their friends. The +impression made was of a wild panic in which the frenzied thought of +flight, escape, predominated. + +She was about to return in something like despair, feeling that she could +not leave her aunt, when she saw a tall form rushing toward her. A second +later she recognized Owen Clancy leaping over the ruins of her home. With +a cry, she fell into his outstretched arms, faint, trembling, yet with a +sense of refuge, a thrill of exquisite joy before unknown in all her life. + +"Mara, dear Mara, you are not hurt?" he asked breathlessly. + +"No, oh, thank God, you have come!" + +Again there was the same ominous growl, deep in the earth, which once +heard could never be mistaken, never forgotten. Lifting her up Clancy +carried her swiftly from beneath the shattered buildings to the middle of +the street. She clung to him almost convulsively as the earth again swayed +and trembled beneath them, and the awful moan of nature swelled, then died +away in the distance. There was an instant of agonized, breathless +suspense, then the wail of the stricken city rose again with a deeper +accent of terror, a more passionate appeal to heaven, and the effort to +escape to the wider spaces was renewed in a more headlong flight. + +"Mara," said Clancy, "at this hour, when everything may be swept away in a +moment, there is nothing left for me but you and God. Will you trust me, +and let me do my very best to save you?" + +"Oh, Owen, Owen, God forgive me!" She uttered the words like a despairing +cry, then buried her face upon his breast. + +With a dread greater than that inspired by the earthquake he thought: "Is +it too late? Can she have married Bodine?" The anguish in her tone +combined with her action had revealed both her love and its hopelessness. +He said gently, yet firmly: "We must act now and quickly. Where is Mrs. +Hunter?" + +Mara had apparently become speechless from grief. Without a word she +turned swiftly, and taking his hand led him toward the ruined building. + +"No, stay here. It will not be safe for you to enter," and pushing her +gently back he ran up the exposed stairway, into the parlor, noticing with +dismay the general wreck and the danger Mara had run. + +He found that Mara had followed him. "Oh, why will you come?" he exclaimed +in deep anxiety. "Where is she? We must get away from all this." + +The sobbing girl could only point to Mrs. Hunter's door. Clancy tried it, +but found it jammed, as were so many others that night, adding to the +terror of imprisoned inmates. With strength doubled by excitement he put +his shoulder against the barrier and burst it open. A ghastly spectacle +met their eyes. Mrs. Hunter lay senseless on her bed in her night-robe, +which was stained with blood. She had evidently risen to a sitting posture +on the first alarm, and then had been stunned and cut by the hurling of +some heavy object against her head and neck, the shattered mantel clock on +the bed beside her showing how the injury had been done. + +Mara's overwhelming distress ceased its expression at this new horror as +she gasped, "Can she be dead?" + +"This is no place to discover," Clancy replied, rolling the poor woman's +form in a blanket. "Mara, dear, we must get away from this house. It may +come down any moment. Snatch up wraps, clothing, all you can lay your +hands upon, and come." + +Already he was staggering away with Mrs. Hunter in his arms. In a moment +Mara did his bidding and followed. Slowly and with difficulty he made his +way down the tottering, broken stairway, then across the prostrate wall to +the centre of the street, now almost deserted. He looked anxiously around, +calculating that no building, if it fell, could reach them at that point, +then laid his heavy burden down, and stood panting and recovering from his +exertion. + +"I think we shall be as safe here as anywhere until we can reach one of +the squares. Put your hand, Mara, over Mrs. Hunter's heart, and see if it +is beating." + +"Yes, faintly." + +"Have you stimulants in the house? Can you tell me where to find them?" + +"You shall not go back there: I will go." And, as if endowed with sudden +access of strength, she sprang away. Putting his coat under Mrs. Hunter's +head for a pillow he followed instantly. "Now why do you come?" she +protested. + +"Because I would rather die with you, Mara, than live safely without you." + +"Oh, for God's sake don't speak that way!" she replied with a sob. "Here, +I have it. Come away, quick." + +As she hastily sought to cross the ruins in the street she missed her +footing, and would have fallen had not his ready arm encircled her and +borne her to Mrs. Hunter's side. + +"Would to God I had heeded your warning, Owen," she moaned, as she sought +to give her aunt some of the brandy, while he chafed the poor woman's +wrists. + +"You are not married to Bodine?" he asked, springing to his feet. + +"No, but I am pledged to him. I cannot break faith and live. You must be +my protector in a double sense, protecting me against myself. As you are a +Southern gentleman, help and shield me." + +"You ask what is next to impossible, Mara. I can only do my best for you." + +"Oh, how I have wronged you!" + +"Not so greatly as I have wronged myself. I will tell you all some other +time." + +"No, Owen, no. We must keep apart. We must, we must indeed. Oh, oh, it +would have been better that I had died! You must harden your face and +heart against me--that is the only way to help me now." + +"Never shall I harden my heart against you. Whatever comes I shall be your +loyal friend." + +"Oh, the cruelty of my fate--to wrong two such men!" + +"Bress de Lawd! I'se fown you;" and Aun' Sheba stood before them, panting +and abounding in grateful ejaculations. + +"Aun' Sheba!" cried Mara, throwing herself into the arms of her old nurse. +"To think that you should come to me through all these dangers!" + +"Wot else I do, honey lam? You tink you kin be in trouble an' I ain't dar? +Marse Clancy, my 'specs. Once I tinks you a far-wedder frien', but I takes +it back. Lawd, Lawd! is de ole missus dun gone?" + +"No, Aun' Sheba," said Clancy. "Help us revive her, and then help me carry +her to a place of greater safety. You come like an angel of light." + +"I'se rudder hebby an' brack fer'n angel, but, like de angels, we'se all +got ter do a heap ob totin' ter-night." + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +SCENES NEVER TO BE FORGOTTEN + + +When George Houghton reached his father's room he heard Jube fairly +howling in the darkness, and the old man groaning heavily. + +"Father," cried the young man, "you are not hurt?" + +"Oh, George, thank God, you have again escaped! This is an earthquake, +isn't it?" + +"It must be, and I must take you out to some open space at once. Jube, +shut up, and keep your senses. If you don't help me I'll break your +bones." + +Groping about he found a match and lighted a candle. + +"Oh, George, you are hurt. Your face is covered with blood!" cried Mr. +Houghton. + +"Slight cuts only. Come, father, there may be another shock, and it will +not be safe to dress you here. Let me wrap you in blankets, and then Jube +and I will carry you to Marion Square. I will come back for your clothes." + +This they proceeded to do, Mr. Houghton meanwhile protesting, "No, George, +you shall not come back." Then he asked a moment or two later, "Why do you +take me out at the side door?" + +"It will be safer," George replied, not wishing to explain that the +pillared and massive portico was in ruins. + +As they passed the front of the house, however, Jube groaned, "Oh, Lawd! +de porch dun smashed!" + +"This is awful, my boy!" ejaculated Mr. Houghton. "Oh, this dreadful city! +this dreadful city!" + +"The worst is over, I think. Brace up, Jube. If you are so anxious to save +your life, step lively." + +"Jes hear de people holler," cried Jube, trembling so he could scarcely +keep his hold, and he gave a loud, sympathetic yell himself. + +"Stop that," said George sternly. "Oh, Dr. Devoe, I am so glad to see +you," he added, as the physician came running up. "You are a godsend." + +"I was passing near," explained the physician, "and, being a bachelor, can +think of my patients first. Jube, if you yell again I'll cuff you. Be a +man now and we'll all soon be safe." + +They joined the throngs which were gathering on the square, and Mr. +Houghton was tenderly placed upon the grass. "Doctor, you and Jube will +stay with him while I get articles for his comfort;" and before his father +could again interpose George was off at full speed. + +"He will come out all right," said Dr. Devoe soothingly. "Never fear for +George." + +But when the second roll of subterranean thunder was heard, and the cries +and lamentations of the people were redoubled, the old man wrung his hands +and groaned, "Oh, why did you let him go?" After the quiver passed he sat +up and strained his eyes in the direction from which he hoped again to see +his son. The house was not far away, and George soon appeared staggering +under a mattress, with bedding, clothing, and other articles essential to +the comfort and safety of his father. Jube, under the doctor's assurances, +was beginning to rally from his terror, and between them they speedily +made the old man comfortable. + +As George was arranging the pillows his father said, "God forgive me for +being so obdurate, my boy. I know where your thoughts are. Go and help her +if you can." + +With heartfelt murmured thanks the young man kissed his father, and +bounded away. + +Ella Bodine and her father were truly in sore trouble. A few minutes +before ten, Mrs. Bodine's delicate and enfeebled organization succumbed to +the heat and closeness of the air, and she suddenly swooned. Ella in alarm +summoned her father and old Hannah, and all were engaged in applying +restoratives when they too were appalled by the hideous sound which gave +such brief and terrible warning of the disaster. The veteran, who sat by +the bedside, chafing his cousin's wrists with spirits, barely had time to +get on his crutches when he was thrown violently to the floor, while Ella, +with a wild cry, fell across the bed. Then, in expectation of instant +death, they listened with an awe too great for expression to the infernal +uproar, the crash of falling objects, the groaning and grinding of the +swaying house, and above all to the voice of the deep, subterranean power +which appeared to be rending the earth. + +Most fortunately the gas was not extinguished, and when it was still +again, Ella rushed to her father, and exclaimed as she helped him up, "Oh, +papa, what is this?" + +"De Jedgmen Day," said a quivering voice. + +Bodine's face was very white, but his iron nerves did not give way. +"Ella," he said firmly, "you must keep calm and do as I say. It is an +earthquake. Since the house stands we may hope to revive Cousin Sophy +before taking her to the street. Come, Hannah, get up and do your best." + +From her sitting posture on the floor, the old woman only answered in a +low terrified monotone, "De Jedgmen Day." + +"Oh, papa, she's just crazed, and we must do everything ourselves;" and, +Ella, with trembling hands and stifled sobs, began to aid her father. "Oh, +hear those awful cries in the street," she said after a moment. "Don't you +think we should try to take cousin out?" + +"If I were not so helpless!" Bodine groaned. "Hannah, wake up and help." + +"De Jedgmen Day," was the only response. + +"There is no use to look to her, papa. I'm strong. See, I can lift cousin, +she is so light." + +"No, Ella, it might injure you for life. If we could only partially revive +her, and she could help you a little--There may not be another shock." + +They worked on, growing more assured as the house remained quiet. Hannah +was evidently crazed for the time being, for, deaf to all expostulations, +she would not move, and kept repeating the terrible refrain. + +"O God!" said Bodine in tones of the deepest distress, "to think that I +cannot go to Mara!" + +"Well, papa, you can't help it. Your duty is here. May God pity and save +us all!" + +At last the ominous rumble began again in the distance. Ella gave her +father a startled look, and saw confirmation of her fear in his face. Old +Hannah started up exclaiming, "De Lawd is comin' now shuah. I'se gwine ter +meet Him," and she rushed away. + +With another wild cry Ella lifted the form of her cousin in her arms, and, +with a strength created by the emergency, staggered down the stairs to the +door. Then a man saw and relieved her of her burden. Bodine with +difficulty tried to follow, but could not during the brief shock. When all +was still again he threw the bedding over his shoulder, went down and +speedily checked Ella's wild cries that he should not delay. + +The street was comparatively wide; the houses were not high, and they +found themselves in the midst of a group of refugees like +themselves--mothers sobbing over their babes, men caring for sick and +fainting wives, and children standing by feeble and aged parents. Family +servants crouched on the pavement beside their employers, and continually +gave utterance to ejaculatory prayers which found sympathetic echoes in +the stoutest hearts. Many were coming and going. The place seemed a +partial refuge, yet the proximity of houses led one group after another to +seek the open squares. In many instances rare fortitude and calmness were +displayed. Here, as elsewhere throughout the city, frail women, more often +than strong men, were patient and resigned in their Christian faith. + +Ella supported Mrs. Bodine's head upon her lap, and others now aided in +the effort to bring back consciousness. Fortunately, however, for the poor +lady, she knew not what was passing. + +Suddenly the group parted to make way for a hatless, coatless man, whose +face was terribly disfigured with blood and dust. Nevertheless Ella +recognized him with the glad cry, "Mr. Houghton!" + +"Thank Heaven you are safe!" he gasped, panting heavily; and he gave his +hand to Mr. Bodine. + +"But you are injured," said the captain, in deep solicitude. + +"No, nothing worth mentioning; merely cut and bruised. I came as soon as I +had fixed my father safe in the square. I thought you might need help." + +"Mr. Houghton, you are overwhelming us--" + +"Please don't think and talk that way. God knows, a man should give help +where it is most needed at such a time. This is Mrs. Bodine?" + +"Yes, she fainted before the first shock. We have been unable to revive +her. At the last shock my daughter carried her down." + +"Miss Bodine!" exclaimed George in surprise and admiration. + +She gave him a swift glance through her tears, and then, dropping her +eyes, resumed her efforts to revive her cousin. + +"You may well exclaim," said her father. "How she did it I do not know. +Excitement gave strength, I suppose." + +"Everything these kind friends and I can do for her seems useless," Ella +faltered. + +"Let me get my wind a little," said George, eagerly, "and I will carry her +to the square, where my father is. A good physician is with him." + +At this instant came a third and severer shock than the last, and with it +the new terror which sickened the bravest. "O God," cried Ella, "will +there be no respite?" Then observing for the first time the pillars of +light and smoke rising at different points, she cried in still deeper +fear, "Oh, papa, can those be volcanic fires?" + +"No, no, my child." + +"I saw a fire kindling in a deserted house as I came," George added +excitedly. "Truly, Captain Bodine, this is no place for your family; or," +turning to the groups near, "for you either, friends. Ah, see! there is a +house almost opposite beginning to burn. Come;" and without further +hesitation he lifted Mrs. Bodine and strode away. + +Not only Ella and her father followed, but also the others, those who were +the strongest supporting the feeble and injured. + +They had gone but little way before Bodine said, "Ella, I must go and see +if Mara has escaped. I cannot seek safety myself unless assured that she +is safe." + +"Oh, papa, it will be almost suicide for you to go through these streets +alone." + +"Ella, there are some things so much worse than death. If you and cousin +were alone I would not leave you, but with a strong helper and a physician +in prospect I must go. How could I look Mara in the face again if I made +no effort in her behalf? Explain to Mr. Houghton." + +He dropped behind, then turned up a side street and carefully yet quickly +halted over and around the impediments strewn in the way. + +Aware of the danger of delay, George went forward with a rapid stride. +"Can you keep up?" he asked. + +"Yes," Ella replied. + +"We must get by and beyond these higher buildings. I have the horrible +dread that they may fall on you any moment." + +"You never seem to think of yourself, Mr. Houghton." + +"I must now," he said after a moment or two. "Here is a corner at which we +can rest, for there are no high buildings near;" and he sank on the ground +with Mrs. Bodine still in his arms. + +"Oh, you are killing yourself!" she cried in deep distress. + +"Not at all, only resting. Where is your father?" + +Ella explained and revealed her fears. + +"I will go to his aid and Miss Wallingford's as soon as you and Mrs. +Bodine are safe." + +"Mr. Houghton, how can I--" + +"By giving me the privilege of serving you, and by not making me miserable +from seeing you burdened with a sense of obligation," he said quickly. +"That is the one thing I have feared--that you would be unhappy because it +has been my good-fortune--oh, well, you understand." + +She did, better than he, for his swift coming to her aid had banished all +doubt of him. + +"Please understand, then, that I gratefully and gladly accept your +chivalrous help. Have I not seen it given to the old and feeble before? +Oh, these heart-rending cries! It seems to me that they will haunt me +forever." + +"Please support Mrs. Bodine a moment. That is a woman's scream just beyond +us. She is evidently injured, and probably held fast in the ruins." + +He ran to the spot, and found that a woman had been prostrated and +partially buried by the bricks of a falling chimney. She had been +unconscious for a time, but now, reviving, her agonized shrieks rose above +the other cries. George spoke soothingly to her as he threw the bricks to +right and left. She was evidently suffering the extremity of pain, for she +again screamed and moaned in the most heart-rending way, although George +lifted her as carefully as possible. Laying her down beside Mrs. Bodine he +began in distressed perplexity, "What shall we do now? We cannot leave her +here." + +At this moment a group of negroes approached. One was carrying a little +girl whom Ella immediately recognized as Vilet. Then she saw Sissy, the +mother, carrying her youngest, and weeping hysterically, while the other +children clung to her skirts. Uncle Sheba brought up the rear, fairly +howling in his terror. The man carrying the child was Mr. Birdsall, who +had called with old Tobe just before the first shock. The gray-woolled +negro was walking beside his minister, uttering petitions and +self-accusations. Old Tobe was comparatively alone in the world, without +kith or kin. Mr. Birdsall, feeling that he owed almost an equal duty to +his flock, had only stipulated that he should stop at his home for his +wife and children. Happily they were unharmed, and were able to follow +unaided; and so, like a good shepherd, he still carried the weakest of his +lambs. + +Ella called to them, and they paused. George, ever prompt in action, saw +that old Tobe and Uncle Sheba were able to do more than use their lungs, +and he sprang forward to press them into his service. Tobe readily +yielded, but Uncle Sheba would do nothing but howl. In his impatience +George struck him a sharp blow across the mouth, exclaiming, "Stop your +infernal noise. If you are strong enough to yell that way you can do +something better. Stop, I say, or I'll be worse than two earthquakes;" and +he shook Uncle Sheba's howl into staccato and tremolo notes. + +"Dere am no use foolin' wid dat niggah," said old Tobe. + +"Howl, then, if you will, but help you shall;" and taking him by his +shoulder, George pushed him beside Tobe, made the two form a chair with +their hands, and put the woman into it, with her arms about the neck of +each. + +Taking up Mrs. Bodine he again went forward. The miserable little +procession followed, Uncle Sheba mechanically doing his part, at the same +time continuing to make night hideous by the full use of a pair of lungs +in which was no rheumatic weakness. Motion caused the wretched woman +renewed agony, and her shrieks mingled with his stentorian cries. + +"Oh, this is horrible!" Ella said at George's side. + +"It is indeed, Miss Bodine; yet how glad I am that you Have not been +injured!" + +"Oh, oh, I fear so greatly that my cousin will not live through this +dreadful night; and my father, too, is facing unknown dangers!" + +"This is an awful ill wind, Miss Bodine, but the fact that I can help you +and yours gives me a deeper satisfaction than you can imagine." + +She could not trust herself to answer, therefore was silent, and his +thought was, "I must go slower on that tack, and not so close to the +wind." The forlorn company eventually reached the square, and made their +way to the place where George had left his father. As the old man saw his +son, and comprehended his mission of mercy as well as love, he murmured, +"God forgive me that it should require an earthquake to teach how much +better is his spirit than mine," and his heart grew as tender as a +mother's toward his boy. + +Dr. Devoe, who was attending another patient not far away, came up hastily +and eased the poor creature out of the negroes' hands to the ground. + +He gave her some of the wine George had brought for his father, saying as +he did so, "Try to be calm, now, madam. I am a physician, and will do all +I can for you." + +Mr. Houghton promptly sent Jube to the doctor with one of his pillows and +part of his bedding, so the woman was made as comfortable as her condition +permitted. + +George laid Mrs. Bodine on the grass, and then with the scanty bedding +Ella had carried, aided in making a resting-place not far from his father. +He next lifted Mrs. Bodine's head into the girl's lap, and was about to +turn his attention to Uncle Sheba, but was anticipated. Two men had taken +him by the shoulders, one of them saying, "If you don't keep still we'll +tie you under the nearest building and leave you there," and they began to +march him off. At this dire threat Uncle Sheba collapsed and fell to the +ground, where he was left. + +Dr. Devoe divided his attention between the fatally injured woman and Mrs. +Bodine, who under his remedies and the efforts of George and Ella soon +revived. Mr. Houghton looked with wonder, pity, and some embarrassment at +the small, frail form, and the white, thin face of one whom had +characterized as "that terrible old woman." She seemed scarcely a shadow +of what she had been on that former night, more terrible even that this +one to the then stricken father. Now the son whom he had thought dead had +carried her to his side, and was bending over her. + +"Well, well," he muttered, "the ways of God are above and beyond me. I +give up, I give up." + +Then his eyes rested on Ella. He saw a face which even the dust of the +streets could not so begrime as to hide its sweetness or its tenderness, +as, with deep solicitude, she bent over her cousin. A conflagration raging +near now began to flame so high that its lights flickered on the girl's +face, etherealizing its beauty, and turning her fluffy hair to gold. She +became like a vision to the old man, angelic, yet human in her natural +sympathy. The thought would come, "I have fought like a demon to keep that +face from bending over me in my feebleness and age. Truly God's ways are +best." + +Ella had only glanced at his pale, rugged face with awe and dread, and +then had given all her thoughts to her cousin. + +As the latter began to regain consciousness, she motioned George away, and +with Dr. Devoe, sought to complete the work of restoration. To dazed looks +and confused questions she replied merely with soothing words until the +doctor said kindly, but firmly, "Mrs. Bodine, you are now safe, and as +comfortable as we can make you. Do not try to comprehend what has +happened. There are so many worse off who need attention--" + +"There, there, doctor," Mrs. Bodine interrupted, with a flash of her old +spirit, "no matter what's happened, I thank you for your attention. Please +give it now to others." + +"Doctor," said George, "I fear the little colored girl who came in with us +is dying." They went to the spot where Sissy was pillowing Vilet's head +against her breast. The physician made a brief examination, and heard how +a brick had fallen on the child as they were getting her out, then said, +"I'm sorry I can do nothing but alleviate her pain a little." + +Turning away promptly he began, "See here, Houghton, I must go to the +nearest drug-store and help myself if no one's there. Will you come with +me? I shall need a lot of things, more than I can carry." + +"I can't," George replied, "but here is the man that will, I think;" and +he roused old Tobe who sat quietly near with his head buried in his hands. + +"Sartin. I do wot I kin while de can'el hole out to burn," Tobe assented +rising. + +"That's right, my man, and you'll help other candles to hold out." + +"Doctor, understand me," explained George, "I must go and search for +Captain Bodine, who is wandering on crutches about the city," and he +hastened to say a word to his father. + +Ella saw him kneel by the old man, and then rise after a moment or two +with such gladness in his face that even the blood and dust stains could +not disguise it. Little wonder, for Mr. Houghton had said, "I'm conquered, +George. I give all up--all my ambitious dreams about you. What dreams they +now seem! This awful earthquake has shaken away everything except life, +and the love which makes life worth anything. I've seen the girl, and I +don't blame you. Go ahead." + +"Oh, thanks, thanks. You'll never be sorry; but, father, please don't say +anything to her about--about--Well, she don't know, and I must woo before +I can hope to win." + +"You needn't worry about me. I'm old enough to be wary," and the old man +could not repress a grim smile. Then he added, "George, for mercy's sake, +try to get the blood and dust off your face and find a coat. You look as +if you had been through a prize-fight." + +George explained the quest he was about to enter upon, and promised +caution. Then he approached Ella. "Miss Bodine," he said, "I will now +search for your father till I find him." + +Again the girl could not trust herself to speak, but tears came into her +eyes as she gave him her hand. He pressed it so hard as to leave a +delicious ache, and hastened away. + +"Good Lor! who was that awful-looking man?" Mrs. Bodine asked Ella. + +"George Houghton. He carried you from home here." + +"Lor! Lor! Saved my life as well as yours and Cousin Hugh's?" + +"Yes, and now he's going to help papa and Mara." + +"Well, well, we'll have to forgive him for being born North. Is that +old--" + +Ella stopped her mouth with a kiss, and whispered: "That is his father. +Don't let us look at him. In fact, I'm afraid to--at least while he is so +ill." + +"Well," ejaculated Mrs. Bodine, "if this earthquake does not cure him of +his cussedness, I hope the Lord will take him to heaven." + +"He did not prevent George from coming to me, nor his going to papa's aid. +He was kind, too, to that poor woman yonder. Oh, I'm sorry for her, and I +wish I could do something." + +"Perhaps you can. Go and see." + +"I've nothing to put under your head, cousin." + +"I'll put patience under it. That, I reckon, is all I have left now. Go, +Ella, dear, I can't bear to hear her moan. I'm in no pain, and that wine +has quite heartened me." + +Ella did as she was bidden. That Mr. Houghton was observant was quickly +proved, for he said to Jube, "Take this pillow to that lady yonder. If she +declines, say you have your orders, and leave it." + +Mrs. Bodine raised herself on her elbow and protested. + +"Madam," said Mr. Houghton, "do not deny a helpless man the privilege of +doing a little for the comfort of others at a time like this." + +"But you have none left for yourself, sir," Mrs. Bodine replied. + +"Madam, you can understand what a satisfaction that will be to me under +the circumstances." + +Mrs. Bodine yielded and admitted to herself that she was much more +comfortable. "I reckon the earthquake is doing him good," she thought, +"and that the Lord better keep him here a while longer." + +"Can't you lift me up a little?" gasped the injured woman to Ella. "Oh, +how I suffer, _suffer_!" + +Ella sat down beside her, and gently shifted the pillow so that it came +under the wounded back, while the weary head rested against her bosom. + +"Ah!" said the poor creature, "that's easier. I reckon I won't have to +suffer much longer." + +Ella spoke soothingly and gently. Mr. Houghton, who could only hear the +sweet tenderness of her tones, wiped tears from his eyes as he again +murmured, "God forgive me, blind, obstinate old fool that I've been!" + +The adjacent flames now lighted up the entire scene, throwing their +baleful light on such an assemblage as had never before gathered in this +New World. + +The convulsion which threatened to raze every home in the city had +certainly brought the people down to the same level. Both white and +colored citizens were mingled together on the square in a swiftly created +democracy. Character, the noble qualities of the soul, without regard to +color or previous condition, now only gave distinction. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +A HOMELESS CITY + + +The efforts of Clancy and Mara combined with the vigorous and sensible +ministrations of Aun' Sheba at last brought consciousness to Mrs. Hunter. +Tearing up a linen sheet they stanched and bound up her wounds, and then +Clancy said, "We must get her to one of the squares and under a +physician's care as soon as possible." + +"My folks is gwine to Mar'on Squar, an' dar I promise ter come," said Aun' +Sheba. "It's 'bout as nigh as any ob dem." + +Mrs. Hunter looked at Clancy, and shrank from him visibly. He said +quickly, "Surely, Mrs. Hunter, all enmities should be forgotten at this +time, or at least put aside. We should leave this narrow side-street at +once." + +"Aunty," said Mara, gently, "Mr. Clancy has saved us both from +destruction. For my sake and Aun' Sheba's as well as your own, you must +let him do all in his power." + +The earthly, yet unearthly, rumble of another shock put an end to further +hesitation. It would be long before the terror inspired by this phenomenon +would cease to be overwhelming. + +Aun' Sheba lifted her arms imploringly to heaven, while the vivid +consciousness of the direst peril known brought Mara and Clancy together +again in an embrace that was the natural expression of the feeling that, +if die they must, they would die together. With such black ruin about +them, caused by one shock, the fear could not be combated that the next +might end everything. + +When the convulsion passed, Clancy and Aun' Sheba immediately formed a +chair with their hands, and Mara helped Mrs. Hunter, now ready enough to +escape by any means, to avail herself of it. They made their way with +difficulty over the debris to King Street. Here they were obliged to pause +and rest. No rest, however, did Clancy obtain, for a momentary glance +revealed one of the awful phases of the disaster. Three or four doors +above them, houses were burning from overturned and exploded lamps. Some +of the shop-keepers were frantically endeavoring to save a few of their +goods, often, in their excitement, carrying out the strangest and most +valueless articles. Clancy's brief glance gave no heed to such efforts, +but before he could turn away, a woman with a child in her arms came +rushing from one of the burning houses. Her dress had touched the fire, +and was beginning to burn. Clancy caught one of the blankets from Mara, +and with it extinguished the flames, while Mara took the infant. The +instant the babe was out of her arms the mother tried to break away and +rush back, shrieking, "There's another! there's another child!" + +"Where?" cried Clancy, restraining her. + +"In the front room there." + +"Stay here, then," and he darted through the doorway, out of which the +smoke was pouring as from a chimney. + +Mara and the mother looked after him in breathless and agonized suspense. +The flames had burst suddenly into the apartment, and through the windows +they could see him enter, snatch up the child, and disappear. But he did +not come out of the street door as soon as they expected. They could +endure waiting no longer. Both dashed into the smoke-clouded passage-way, +and stumbled against Clancy Where he had sunk down within a few steps of +safety. + +The mother seized her child, while Mara, with a strength given by her +heart, dragged the strangling man to the open air. By this time Aun' Sheba +was at her side, and between them they carried him to the spot where Mrs. +Hunter lay. Now that he could breathe he soon recovered; Mara's tender and +imploring words being potent indeed in rallying him. His exposure to heat +and the smoke had been terrible, but fortunately very brief. He was soon +on his feet, exclaiming, "We must go on to Meeting Street, for there we +shall have a better chance." + +Thither they made their way with other fugitives, Clancy and Aun' Sheba +carrying Mrs. Hunter as before, Mara following with the infant, and close +beside her the grateful mother with the other child. + +Having reached a somewhat open space in the wider thoroughfare, the young +man became satisfied that another mode of transportation must be found. +Mrs. Hunter was too heavy for the primitive method adopted in the +emergency. Aun' Sheba took the injured woman's head upon her lap while he +rested and looked about for something like an army stretcher. Among the +ruins he found one of the long wooden shutters which a jeweller had placed +against his window hours before. Watches and gems gleamed in the light of +kindling fires, and were within easy reach, but the most unscrupulous of +thieves were honest that night. Clancy carried the shutter to Mrs. +Hunter's side, and then watched for some man whom he could persuade into +his service. + +The great thoroughfare was full of fugitives, and soon among them the +mother recognized a man of her acquaintance, who took charge of her and +the children. The majority, like Clancy, had been delayed by efforts in +behalf of the sick or injured, and already had their hands full. Others +were so dazed and horror-stricken that they moved about aimlessly, or sat +upon the pavement, moaning and lamenting in despairing accents. It would +appear as if the emergency developed the strength and the weakness of +every mind. Some were evidently crazed. As Mara stood beside Mrs. Hunter +to prevent the crowd from trampling upon her, she saw a half-dressed man, +breaking his way through the throng. The maniac stopped before her, and +for a moment fixed upon her wild, blood-shot eyes, then placed an infant +in her arms, and with a yell bounded away. Mara, horror-stricken, saw that +the child was dead, and that its neck was evidently broken. Clancy came up +immediately, and taking the infant laid it down out of the central path, +for all kept to the middle of the street. + +As he did so, he heard his name called by a voice he knew too well. The +feeling it inspired compelled him again to recognize how false he had been +to himself and also to Miss Ainsley. Her summons now brought the feeling +that he too, like Mara, was bound, and he went instantly to her side. + +"Ah, you deserted me!" she said bitterly. + +He silently pointed to Mrs. Hunter, who presented so sad a spectacle that +even the exacting girl had no further words of reproach, but she glanced +keenly at Mara. + +"We feared a tidal wave," Mr. Willoughby explained, "and so decided to +seek the upper portion of the city." + +"Mrs. Willoughby, if you are able to walk," said Clancy, "your husband +must aid me and Aun' Sheba in carrying Mrs. Hunter, who is very badly +injured." + +"Oh, now that the first terrible shock to my nerves is over, I am as well +able to take care of myself as any of you," replied the spirited little +woman. + +"That's like you!" exclaimed Clancy heartily. Then turning, he said with +emphasis, "Miss Ainsley, you see that a man's first duty to-night is to +the injured and utterly helpless." + +"Forgive me," she replied in tones meant for his ear only, "I did not know +you owed so much to Mrs. Hunter and her niece." + +"I shall owe my services to every injured man and woman until all are +rescued," was his quiet reply. Then he helped Mr. Willoughby place Mrs. +Hunter on the improvised support, and between them they bore her onward, +the others following. + +Their progress was necessarily slow, for the street was encumbered not +only with fugitives like themselves, but also with tangled telegraph-wires +and all sorts of other impediments. Once they had to cower tremblingly +under a tall building while a fire-engine thundered by, threatening to +bring down upon them the shattered walls. As they resumed their slow and +painful march Bodine met them, his glad, outspoken greeting to Mara +filling her heart with new grief and dismay, while it allayed the jealousy +and bitterness of Miss Ainsley's wounded pride. + +The Northern girl had heard the report that Mara and the veteran were +engaged, and here was confirmation. Mara inquired eagerly after Mrs. +Bodine and Ella, then took her place at the captain's side, while Clancy +moved on with set teeth and a desperate rallying of his physical powers, +which he knew to be failing. + +Now that Ella was in the square, young Houghton was not so impetuous as to +ignore the claims of nature or to be regardless of his outward appearance. +He again returned to his home, and saw Sam kneeling and praying aloud near +the barn, with the two horses standing beside him. + +"Sam, go to the square," he shouted. + +"Can't lebe dese hosses. Dey's bofe lookin' ter me, an' I'se prayin' fer +dem an us all." + +"No matter about the horses. The house is too near." Then he ventured into +the butler's pantry, cleansed his face and the cuts and bruises about his +head, snatched some food, and hastened away. He believed he had a hard +night's work before him, and that he must maintain his strength. He had +not gone very far down Meeting Street before he met the group accompanying +Mrs. Hunter. With a glad cry he welcomed Mrs. Willoughby, and was about to +take her hand when Clancy said, "Houghton, for God's sake, quick!" + +George caught the end of the litter while Clancy reeled backward and would +have fallen had not Mara, with a cry she could not repress, caught him in +her arms and sunk with him to the pavement. He gasped a moment or two, +then his eyes closed; he became still and looked as if dead. + +Again the supremely dreaded subterranean rumble was heard. Mr. Willoughby +shouted wildly, "Forward, quick! We can't stay here under these +buildings." He and Houghton went on with a rush, the rest following with +loud cries, Miss Ainsley's piercing scream ringing out above all. She did +not even look back at her prostrate suitor. + +Mara paid no heed to the passing shock, but with eyes full of anguish +looked upon the white face in her lap. + +"Mara," said the deep voice of Bodine after the awful sound had passed. +She started violently and began to tremble. + +"Mara, go with the others. I will stay with Mr. Clancy." + +She shook her head, but was speechless. + +He stood beside her, his face full of deep and perplexed trouble. + +At last she said hoarsely, "You go and bring aid. He saved aunty and me, +and I cannot leave him." + +At this moment Aun' Sheba came running back, exclaiming: "Good Lawd forgib +me dat I should leab my honey lam'! My narbes all shook out ob jint like +de houses, an' my legs run away wid me, dog gone 'em! Dey's brung me back +howsomeber. Now, Missy Mara, gib him ter me;" and taking him under the +arms she dragged him by the adjacent tall buildings. "Missy," she added, +sinking down with her burden, "go on ter de squar wid Marse Bodine, an' +tell dat ar young Houghton ter come quick, 'fore my legs run away wid me +agin." "Both of you go to the square," commanded Bodine in the tone he +would have used on the battlefield. "I will stay. There shall be no +useless risk of life." + +Mara lifted her dark eyes to his face. Even at that moment he knew he +should never forget their expression. "My friend," she said in low, +agonized tones, "he may be dying, he may be dead. I cannot, will not leave +him." + +"No, he ain't dead," said Aun' Sheba, with her hand over Clancy's heart, +"but seems purty nigh it. Him jes gone beyon his strengt. Ole missus +po'ful heby ef she ain't fat like me. Tank de Lawd, I hasn't ter be toted +ter-night. No one but Kern ud tote me. Po' Kern! him heart jes break wen +he know." + +Bodine stood guard silent and grim while Mara mechanically chafed one of +Clancy's hands. She was now far beyond tears, far beyond anything except +the anguish depicted in her face. In a confused way she felt that the +terrible events of the night and her own heart had overpowered her; and, +with a half-despairing recklessness, she merely lived from moment to +moment. + +The earthquake had ceased to have personal terrors for Bodine. He had +faced death too often. Nevertheless a great fear oppressed him as he +looked down upon the girl he loved. + +The square was not far away; Houghton and Mr. Willoughby came hastening +back, and Clancy was soon added to the group of sufferers under Dr. +Devoe's care. + +To Miss Ainsley's general disgust at a city in which she had been treated +to such a rude and miserable experience, was added a little self-disgust +that she had rushed away and left Clancy to his fate. She tried to satisfy +herself by thinking that he had acted in much the same way toward her, but +it would not answer. Mrs. Hunter's blood-stained face, rendered tenfold +more ghastly by the light of the flames, was too strong refutation, and +the fact that Mara had remained with Clancy had its sting. She saw Ella +and many others ministering to the injured and feeble, and felt that she +must redeem her character. When the unconscious man was brought in, +therefore, she hastened forward to receive and in a measure claim him. + +Although mentally comparing her conduct with that of Mara, Houghton and +Mr. Willoughby thought it was all right, put Clancy in her charge, and +began to follow Dr. Devoe's directions. Mara gave the girl a look which +brought a blush to her face, and then devoted herself to her aunt. + +Captain Bodine's first act was to speak gently and encouragingly to his +daughter and cousin, congratulating the latter on her recovery. + +"Yes, Hugh," said the old lady, "I'm safe, safer than I've been at other +times in my life. This is but one more storm, and it is only driving me +nearer the harbor. You look dreadfully; you're worn out." + +"More by anxiety than exertion. It is awful to be so helpless at such a +time." + +"Sit down here on the grass beside me. I want to talk. I may not have much +more chance in this world, but feel sure that I shall do my share in the +next. Oh, Hugh, Hugh, we've all been shaken like naughty children, and +some of us may be the better and the wiser for it. If Ella and that +gallant knight of hers survive, how happy they will be! It makes me happy +even to think of it, though for aught we know the earth may open and +swallow us all within the next five minutes." + +"Yes, the dear child! Thank God for her sake!" + +"For your own too. There is Mara safe also. Poor Mrs. Hunter! she looks +death-like to me. You look awfully too. I never saw you so pale and +haggard." + +"Cap'n Bodine, Marse Houghton send you dis," said Jube at his elbow, +proffering a glass of wine. + +The captain turned his startled eyes upon his old employer, who lay just +out of earshot of their low tones. + +"Take it, Hugh," said his cousin earnestly. "Drink to the death of hate. +He and I have made up." + +The veteran hesitated, and a spasm, as if from a wrench of pain, passed +over his face. Then he took the glass, and said coldly, "I drink to your +recovery, sir." + +"I thank you," was Mr. Houghton's response. + +"A very fair beginning, Hugh, for a man," his cousin resumed. "You might +as well give up at once, though. Everything is going to be shaken down +that shouldn't stand." + +Ominous words to the veteran, for he felt that his dream of happiness was +falling in ruins. + +By the natural force of circumstances the several characters of our story +had been brought comparatively near together, yet were separated into +little groups. Dr. Devoe passed from one to the other as his services were +needed, nor were they confined to those known to us. He simply made a +little open space beside Mr. Houghton his headquarters, where he left his +remedies under the charge of the invalid, Jube, and old Tobe. Other +physicians had joined him and were indefatigable in the work of relief. +Some of the city clergy were also in the square, speaking words of +Christian faith and hope, which never before had seemed so precious. + +To Clancy Dr. Devoe gave a good deal of attention. Not only was his hair +singed, but his neck and hands were badly burned, and his swoon was so +obstinate as to indicate great exhaustion. This could scarcely be +otherwise, for he possessed no such physique as young Houghton had +developed. Moreover, he had passed through a mental strain and excitement +which no one could comprehend except Mara, and she but partially. Houghton +had put his coat under the head of the unconscious man, and was doing his +best for him. So also was Miss Ainsley now. She had purposely turned her +back on Mara, and her face was toward the adjacent conflagration, which +distinctly lighted up her face and form, transforming her into a vision of +marvellous beauty. Her long hair had fallen in a golden veil over her bare +shoulders and neck; her dark eyes were lustrous with excitement and full +of solicitude. When at last Clancy opened his eyes his first impression +was that an angel was ministering to him in a light too brilliant to be +earthly. He recognized Miss Ainsley's voice, however, and when he had +taken some of the wine which the doctor pressed to his lips, all that had +happened came back to him. George now returned in solicitude to his +father, also designing to take a little much-needed rest, while the doctor +gave his attention to other patients. With returning consciousness Clancy +was overpowered by a deep sense of gratitude to this beautiful creature, +and also by a strong feeling of compunction that he had sought the regard +which she now seemed to bestow unstintedly. "Like Mara," he thought, +"there is nothing left for me but to fulfil obligations from which I +cannot honorably withdraw." + +"You are indeed kind and devoted," he said feebly. "I fear I have made a +good deal of trouble." + +"No, Mr. Clancy, you have gone beyond your strength. In fact, we are all +distracted and half beside ourselves. Won't you let me take your head into +my lap? If I am caring for you I can better endure these awful scenes." +And she made the change. + +"I hope you will forgive me for leaving you so abruptly on the Battery. +Mrs. Hunter and Miss Wallingford really had no one to look to." + +"Captain Bodine evidently thinks Miss Wallingford should look to him." + +"In such an emergency he would be even more helpless than she." + +"Oh, well, I hope the worst is now over for us all, and that we can soon +get away from this awful town." + +He gave no answer. Miss Ainsley knew that her father was not far distant, +and that he would come for her by the first train which could reach the +city. Accustomed all her life to look at everything from the central point +of self, she now, in the greater sense of safety, began to give some +thought to the future. Her first conscious decision was to try to be as +brave as possible, and so leave a good impression. The second was to get +away from the city at once, and she hoped she might never see it again. If +Clancy would go with her, if he would even eventually join her at the +North, she believed that she could marry him, so favorable was the +impression that he had made, but she felt that she was making a great +concession, which he must duly appreciate. At present the one consuming +wish was to escape, to get away from scenes which to her were horrible in +the last degree. + +In truth only a brave spirit could witness what was taking place on every +side, or maintain fortitude under the overwhelming impression of personal +danger--an impression which soon banished the partial sense of security +felt after reaching the square. The extent of the terror inspired by the +earthquake can best be measured by the fact that although columns of smoke +and fire, consuming homes and threatening to lay the city in ashes, were +rising at several points, they were scarcely heeded. The roar of adjacent +flames could even be heard by the vast concourse, but ears were strained +to detect that more terrible roar that seemed to come from unknown depths +beneath the ocean and the land, and to threaten a fate as awful and +mysterious as itself. Even many of the white population could not help +sharing in some degree the general belief among the negroes that the end +of all things was at hand. The nervous shock sustained by all prepared the +way for the wildest fears and conjectures. As in the instance of a bloody +battle, those were the best off who were the most occupied. + +Thousands, however, sat and waited in sickening apprehension, fearing some +new horror with every passing moment. There was a sound of weeping +throughout the square, while above this monotone rose groans, cries, +hysterical screams, loud petitions for mercy, and snatches of hymns. The +emotional negroes left no moments of silence. The majority of the white +people had become comparatively calm. They talked in low tones, +encouraging and soothing one another; the lips of even those who seldom +looked heavenward now often moved in silent prayer; fathers, on whose +brows rested a heavy load of care, tried to cheer their trembling +families; and mothers clasped their sobbing children in their arms, with +the feeling that even death should not part them. + +Over all this array of pallid, haggard faces, shone the flames of the +still unquenched conflagration. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +"THE TERROR BY NIGHT" + + +When Aun' Sheba saw that Mara, Mrs. Hunter, and Clancy were among friends, +with a physician in attendance, she sat down by her daughter Sissy, and +took little Vilet in her lap. + +"I kin'er feel," she said, "dat ef de yearth is gwine ter swaller us, I'se +like ter go down wid dis chile. Vilet shuah to go up ag'in, an' p'raps de +Lawd ud say, 'You kin come too, Aun' Sheba.'" + +The sound of her voice so far restored Uncle Sheba to his normal condition +that he was able to creep on his hands and knees to a position just behind +his wife, where he crouched as if she were a sort of general protection. + +Vilet, roused at her grandmother's voice, looked around, and then asked in +her plaintive voice, "Whar's daddy?" + +"He's hep'n' put'n' out de fiahs, deah chile." + +"My bref gittin' bery sho't, granny. I can't stay dis side ob de riber +much longer; I wants ter see daddy 'fore I go." + +"Po' chile and po' Kern," groaned Aun' Sheba. "We doesn't know whar he be, +an' I'se 'feerd he couldn't lebe off puttin' out de fiahs." + +From time to time Vilet wailed, "Daddy, come, come quick. I'se gwine fas, +an' I wants to see you onst mo'." + +Captain Bodine heard the cry, and, having rested himself a little, came to +Aun' Sheba and asked, "Do you know where Kern is?" + +"I doan, Marse Cap'n, but he mought be at dis nighest fiah." + +"I'll see," said the veteran, halting away with the feeling that he must +do something to divert his torturing thoughts. + +Watson was soon pointed out to him, where with stern and quiet face he was +carrying out his orders. When told that Vilet was near and calling for +him, the veins came out on his forehead, and for a moment he was +irresolute. Then he cried, "No, sah, I can't go. Fo' de Lawd, ef she die +an' we all die I won't lebe my duty." + +"You're a man," said Bodine, clapping him on the shoulder, "I will arrange +this." + +He went direct to Kern's superior officer and briefly told him the +circumstances, then added, "I know these people. Watson deserves +consideration. I will take his place. I can hold the hose as well as he, +and will stand as near the fire as he does if you will order him to go to +his dying child for a few minutes." + +"In that case I can comply," said the officer. "Watson has behaved +splendidly, and he'll come back soon." + +The first thing Kern knew, the hose was taken from his hand, and he +ordered to go and return within ten minutes. He hesitated. "Obey orders," +was the stern command. Then he rushed away. + +The plaintive cry, "Daddy, daddy," guided him, and Vilet was in his arms. + +"Chile, deah chile!" was all he could say as he kissed the thin face again +and again. + +"Now my min's at res'," said the little girl, with a sigh of ineffable +content. "You 'member, daddy--you says--'Yes, Vilet.'--I'se a-goin', +daddy. De angels--is all ready--to tote me to Heben. I kin jes' heah dere +wings--rustlin' roun' me. I was jes' waitin'--an' hol'n back--ter see you +onst mo'. Good-by, moder--granny." + +Then she feebly wound her little arms about Kern's neck and whispered, +"Good-by, daddy, fer jes' a lil while. I'se wait neah de gate fer you +_shuah_." + +It would seem that she put all her remaining strength into this effort, +for her head fell over on his shoulder; she quivered a moment, then was +still. Kern could not repress one deep groan. He looked for a moment of +agony into his child's face, kissed it, then placing her in Ann' Sheba's +lap, departed as swiftly as he came. Sissy was so overcome as to be +helpless. + +"Your time wasn't up," said the veteran. + +"Her time was up, Cap'n Bodine," Kern managed to reply, his face rigid +with repressed emotion. "She die in my arms. God bless yo' fer you'se +feelins fer a po' man." + +"Watson, I do feel for you and with you. Our hearts are all breaking +to-night. Take care of yourself. You have a wife and children still to +live for." And Bodine halted back and seated himself by his cousin. + +Alas! for thousands the words of Bodine were only too true. As they +contemplated what had happened and what might occur at any moment, they +felt that heavy, crushing pain, unlike all others, which gathers at the +heart, overwhelming the spirit and threatening physical dissolution at one +and the same time. + +Yet such is the power of human affection and Christian faith, that they +won many triumphs, even during that night of horrors. In Ella and the +dying woman, whose head she pillowed on her breast, were examples of both. +The girl's heart was indeed pitiful and sympathetic, and the poor creature +knew that it was, for in broken, gasping words she told her brief, +pathetic story, so like that of many other women in the South. Once she +was a happy girl at home on a small plantation, but father, brothers, and +lover had all perished in the war. Home and mother had since been lost and +she was fighting out life's long, weary battle when this final disaster +brought the end. "Yes, kind lady, I reckon I'm dying: I hope so. I +couldn't take care of myself any longer, and I'd rather join those who +have gone on before me than trust to the charity of this world. I am very +weary, very heavy laden, and I'd rather go to Him who said, 'Come to Me.' +If you can stay with me a little longer--I don't fear, but it's very sweet +to have human kindness and company down into the dark valley." + +Her words proved true. She evidently perished from internal injuries, for +she soon ceased to gasp, and her head lay still against the bosom of the +sobbing girl. + +Dr. Devoe was present during the last moments, then gently relieved Ella +from her lifeless burden, and supported her to her father on whose +shoulder she shed those natural tears which soon bring relief to the +hearts of the young. George Houghton and Jube carried the body to the +place set apart for the dead. Then George returned to his father's side, +but looked wistfully at Ella with an unspeakable longing to comfort her. + +"I don't wonder, my boy," said Mr. Houghton, interpreting his thoughts. +"Go and speak to her." + +George approached timidly, and said, "Miss Bodine." + +She started, raised her head, and began to wipe her eyes. + +"I--I--Well, I don't know what to say to make you understand how my father +and I have sympathized with your brave--Well, you were so kind and patient +with that poor woman. I wish I could do something for _you_, and I will," +and he hastened away. + +She called, "I don't need anything, Mr. Houghton. Indeed I do not. It +would only distress me--" But he was out of hearing. "Oh," she moaned +again on her father's shoulder, "why will he take risks?" + +It was evident that Mr. Houghton shared her anxiety, for he divined his +son's purpose, and looked with troubled face for his return. He soon came +back carrying another mattress, pillows and blankets. Sam, compelled to +leave the horses, followed with a basket of provisions. Ella was clothed +in little besides a light wrapper, and had shivered more than once in the +night air. George tried to induce her and Mrs. Bodine to accept of the +mattress, but they asked as a favor that it might be placed under Mrs. +Hunter. He readily complied, saying he would get another for them. + +At this moment came the ominous groan of the severe shock which occurred +at about half-past two o'clock Wednesday morning. To the terrified people +it was like the growl of some ravening beast rushing upon them, and a long +wailing cry blended with the horrible roar as it swept under and over +them, then died away in the northwest. + +"Oh, Mr. Houghton," sobbed Ella, when her voice could be heard, "please +don't go away--please don't go near a building again." + +"George," added his father, almost sternly, "not with my consent will you +leave me again till we learn more definitely what our fate is to be. If +you were in the house when this shock occurred, you might have perished. +It is no longer a question of more or less comfort." + +"I reckon not," said Mrs. Bodine. "It's a question of ever seeing the sun +rise again. We may as well speak out what is in our minds, and get ready +for a city not made with hands." + +"I wish we were all as ready to go as you are, Cousin Sophy," Ella +whispered. + +"Well, my dear, I've more property in that city than in this wrecked town, +and 'where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.'" Then she +added, "You'll be spared, dear child. You and your knight will see many +happy years. God bless you both." + +"Oh, cousin! it is such a comfort, even at this awful time, to see him, to +know he is near, to think he came for--for us!" + +"For you, dear little goose. He'd face earthquakes, volcanoes, tornadoes, +cyclones, and even his father before this well-deserved shaking converted +him, for your sake." + +"Cousin," whispered the girl, "I'm so glad. Is it wrong to be glad at such +a time?" + +"Wrong to be glad when God loves you and a good man loves you? I reckon +not. All the quakes that ever shook this crazy old earth are bagatelles +compared with such facts." + +"Oh, cousin, you are such a tower of strength and comfort!" + +"I'm a leaning tower," replied the old lady, whose vein of humor ran +through all her thoughts, "but I'm leaning on what won't fail me. Nestle +down by my side, dear child. You are shivering, and this extra blanket +will do us both good. Now be comfortable, and believe with me that nothing +in the universe can or will harm you." + +"Poor Mara!" Ella sighed. + +"Yes, I've been watching and grieving over her. I never saw any face more +expressive of suffering than hers. I don't understand her +unless--unless--well, time will show, that is, if there is much more time +for me." + +"Oh, cousin, we never could spare you!" + +"That is what I used to think about my husband, but he always went when +sailing orders came, and I survived. I feel to-night as if he and the boys +were just waiting off shore, if this tossing and pitching earth can be +called shore, for me to join them." + +Captain Bodine sat through the shock without moving a muscle. His eyes +rested wistfully on Mara. With an indescribable pang he saw that in the +supreme moment of general terror her eyes turned not to him but to Clancy, +and that she made a half involuntary movement as if to go to him. The +glance, the act, combined with what had gone before, were too significant, +and Bodine buried his face in his hands that she might not see his +trouble. She knew it all the more surely, yet felt how powerless she was +to console him. + +"Oh, my blind, blind folly!" she groaned inwardly. "If I had been true to +my heart, I might be caring for Owen instead of that woman who left him to +die, and my father's friend acting like a father toward us both. I wanted +to be so heroic and self-sacrificing, and I've only sacrificed those I +love most." + +Mrs. Hunter was so fully under the influence of anodynes as not to be +cognizant of what was taking place, and Bodine, soldier-like, was not long +in reaching his decision. Rising, he went aside with Dr. Devoe, and said, +"Miss Wallingford is keeping up from the sheer force of will. Nothing but +your command can induce her to yield and take such rest as can be obtained +here. I do not think you can interpose too soon. I will watch Mrs. +Hunter." + +Mara had indeed reached the limit of endurance, and the physician quickly +detected the fact. He took her by the hand and arm, and gently raised her +to her feet as he said, "I am autocrat here. Even kings and generals must +obey their doctor. So I shall ask no permission to place you beside Mrs. +Bodine. She and rest can do you more good than I can. Captain Bodine and I +will look after Mrs. Hunter." + +Mara gave the veteran a grateful glance and yielded. Then she buried her +face in Mrs. Bodine's neck, and was silent until she slept from physical +exhaustion. + +Miss Ainsley, with multitudes of others, yielded to her terror at the +passing of the midnight earthquake. She shrieked and half rose in her wild +impulse to fly. Then apparently forgetting Clancy she piteously begged Dr. +Devoe to give her something that would certainly bring oblivion for a few +hours at least. He good-naturedly complied. When the opiate began to take +effect she was placed on the mattress beside Mrs. Hunter, and was soon in +stupor. Clancy had so far recovered that he was able to sit up, and he +felt that he should watch beside the girl who he believed had been so +devoted to him in his unconsciousness. + +Dr. Devoe in excuse for Miss Ainsley said, "We can't make too much +allowance to-night for every one. Many strong men are utterly overcome and +nauseated by these, shocks. No wonder women cannot face them." + +"I think Miss Ainsley has borne up wonderfully," Clancy replied. + +"Oh, yes, as well as the average. It's a question of nerves with the +majority." + +Clancy sat down and looked with pity at the beautiful face and dishevelled +hair. "Poor girl!" he thought, "she did her best by me. Indeed, I had +scarcely thought her capable of such devotion. By all that's honorable I'm +bound to her now. Well, eventually I can give her a truer affection, for +she has ceased to be merely a part of my ambitious scheme. By our own acts +Mara and I are separated, and, however deep our grief may be, it must be +hidden from all." + +Thus he and Captain Bodine sat on either side of the pallet, each immersed +in painful thought, oblivious of the strange scenes enacted all around +them. They did not feel then that they could speak to each other. + +The veteran was perplexed, and his proud spirit also labored under a deep +sense of wrong. It was evident that he had been deceived by Mara, and that +all along she had loved the man so near to him, loved him better than her +own life. Why had she concealed the fact? Why had she been so cold and +harsh toward Clancy himself until the awful events of the night and peril +to life had overpowered her reserve and revealed her heart? He could think +of no other explanation than that afforded by the unconscious girl over +whom Clancy watched. He had heard of the young man's devotion to Miss +Ainsley, and, from what he had seen, believed that they were affianced. He +was too just and large in his judgment to think Mara's course toward him +was due to pique and wounded pride, and he was not long in arriving at a +very fair explanation of her motives and action. Keenly intelligent and +mature in years he was beyond the period of passionate and inconsiderate +resentment. Moreover his love for the orphan girl was so true, and the +memory of her father and mother so dear to him, that he was able to rise +nobly above mere self, and resolve to become the most loyal of friends, a +protector against her very self. "Now I think of it," he mused, "she has +never said she loved me, although she permitted me to think she did. Even +when I declared my love she only said, 'Life offers me nothing better than +to be your wife.' That no doubt was true as she meant it, for she then +thought this man here was lost to her. She did not welcome my love when +she first recognized it, but soon her spirit of self-sacrifice came in, +and she reasoned that since she could not be happy in herself, she would +make me happy. From the very first I believed that this spirit could lead +her to deception for the sake of others, and I have not been sufficiently +on my guard against it. Yet how could I suspect this Clancy, whom she so +repelled and contemned, and who was devoting himself to another woman? +Perhaps she partially deceived herself as well as me. The affection +probably struck root years since when she and Clancy were friends. He +outgrew it; she has not, as she has learned to night, if not before. He +went to her aid because he was friendly in spite of her apparent +bitterness toward him, which perhaps he understood better than I. Possibly +Mrs. Hunter may have broken their relations, for there is no doubt about +her feelings. Well, time must unravel the snarl. It would now seem that he +is devoted to this girl here, and she to him as far as she can be to any +one. What he will think when he learns that she ran shrieking away and +left him, while Mara, reckless of life itself, stood by him to the last, I +cannot know. If he loves her he will forgive her, for no man can blame a +woman for succumbing to the terror of this night. Possibly at some distant +day Mara may still think that life offers her nothing better than to be my +wife; but she shall be free, free as air, and know, too, that I know all." + +Thus Bodine communed with himself after a habit learned long ago in the +presence of danger. + +Clancy also was confronted by possible results of his action, the fear of +which enabled his cool, resolute nature to rise above all other fear. He +resolved to go at once to Aun' Sheba, and caution her against speaking of +the scenes in which she, with Mara, and himself had taken part. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +HOPE TURNED INTO DREAD + + +Clancy was guided by the voice of Aun' Sheba, the wailing of Sissy, and +the groans and unearthly sounds to which Uncle Sheba was giving utterance. +The adjacent fire was so far subdued that only a red glow in the sky above +marked the spot. The stars shone in calm, mocking serenity on the wide +scene of human distress and fear. "Alas," he thought, "what atoms we are; +and what an atom is this earth itself! It would seem that faith is the +simplest, yet mightiest effort of the mind at such a time," and he paused +till Aun' Sheba should be more free to listen to him. + +Mr. Birdsall, with his youngest child in his arms, had been exhorting +those of his people near him, but his words had been of little effect in +quieting Sissy and Uncle Sheba. The latter had concluded that he would not +wait till the coming winter before again "'speriencin 'ligion," and his +uncouth appeals to Heaven were but the abject expression of animal fear. +Aun' Sheba had lost her patience with both him and her daughter, and was +expostulating vigorously. "I'se asham on you, Sissy," she said. "Wot good +de 'ligion you 'fess do you, I'd like ter know? Ain't Vilet in Hebin? +Ain't you got de bes husban bawn? Ain't de oder chil'n heah? Now ef you'se +'ligion any good 'tall, be quiet an tankful dat you bettah off dan +hun'erds. Unc., you kin pray all you wants, but ef you specs de Lawd ter +listen you'se got ter pray like a man an not like a hog dat wants his +dinnah. You'se 'sturbin everybody wuss dan you did wen you got sot on. I +won hab it said my folks made a rumpus in dis time ob trouble. You'se got +ter min me, Mr. Buggone, or I'se hab you took out de squar." + +Uncle Sheba was never so far gone in his fears but that he shrunk from +facing anything worse, and so he subsided into low inarticulate groans. +Sissy was not so tractable, for her weeping was largely nervous and +hysterical. She had an affectionate emotional nature, but was far from +being gifted with the strength of mind and character possessed by her +mother and husband. + +"Aun' Sheba," said Clancy kindly, "your daughter needs something to quiet +her nerves. I will bring it to her." He soon returned with medicine from +the doctor, and under its influence the bereaved mother became calmer and +wept softly by her dead child. + +Clancy drew Aun' Sheba a little apart so that others could not hear, even +if any were disposed to listen at this time of intense preoccupation. "You +have been a friend indeed to-night," he said. "I must ask another proof of +your good-will. The earthquake has brought trouble enough, but I fear that +Mara and I have brought greater trouble upon ourselves. Probably you've +seen enough to explain what I mean." + +"I'se seen a heap, Marse Clancy." + +"Well, you are Mara's old nurse. She loves and trusts you. She is engaged +to Captain Bodine." + +"She ain't mar'ed to 'im." + +"She feels herself bound, and has said that if I was a true Southern +gentleman I would not interfere. This is bad enough, but there's worse +still. I thought she was lost to me--you know about it, I reckon." + +"Yes, I knows now. I was a blin ole fool an tink it was wuckin' so hard +dat made her po'ly." + +"Oh, we have both made such fatal mistakes! I, like a fool, when I +believed she would never speak to me again, entangled myself also. Now, +Aun' Sheba, what I wish is that you say nothing to any one of what you +have seen and heard. We've got to do what's honorable at every cost to +ourselves." + +"Dus wot's hon'ble mean dat Missy Mara got ter mar'y Marse Bodine an you +de limpsey-slimpsey one wot say you 'serted her?" + +"Nothing else seems to be left for us." + +"'Pears ter me, Marse Clancy, you an Missy Mara gittin orful muxed up in +wot's hon'ble. I'se only got wot folks calls hoss-sense, but it's dead +agin you bofe. Take you now. Fust you got ter tell de gal lies, den lies +to her fader an de minister wot jines you, and de hull worl. Missy Mara ud +hab ter lie like de debil, too, an you bofe go on lyin 'miscuously. +Anyhow, you'se hab ter act out de lies ef you didn't say 'em. 'Ud dat be +hon'ble wen all de time you'se yearnin fer each oder?" + +"Oh, Aun' Sheba, it's hard enough without such words as yours!" + +"Ob corse it's hard. It orter be, fer it's agin de Lawd an natur. Marse +Clancy, took keer wot you do, an wot you let Missy Mara do. My 'sperience +teach me a heap. S'pose I doan' know de dif'ence 'tween Unc. dar an a man +like Kern? I was young an foolish once, an mar'ed Unc. kase he was good +lookin den, an mo' kase he ax me. Well, I'se made de bes on it, an I'se +gwine ter make de bes on it; but if de yearth crack right open heah, as +like 'nuff 'twill 'fo' mawnin, I'd jump right down in de crack 'fo' I'd do +it ober ag'in. You'se on de safe side ob de crack yit, so be keerful. I +knows woman folks soon as I claps my eyes on dem. Miss Mara quar in her +notions 'bout de Norf--she was brung up to 'em--but dere's nuff woman in +my honey lam' to make a tousan ob dis yere limpsey-slimpsey one." + +Clancy clinched his hands in mental distress as he listened to the hard +sense and unerring judgment of the sagacious old woman. + +"I'm in terrible perplexity," he said, "for there is so much truth in your +words. How can I escape the consequences of my own acts? Think how Miss +Ainsley stood by me in my unconsciousness! When I revived--" + +"Dar now, Marse Clancy, you'se been fooled. She stood by hersef. De fac +am, she didn't stan 'tall, but run like a deer, hollerin fer all she's +wuth. Wen you swoonded, Missy Mara cotch you in her arms. I eben run away, +an lef my honey lam' mysef, but I come back sudden, an dar she was a hol'n +you head in her lap right uner a big bildin dat ud a squashed her. I drag +you pass dat, an den Marse Bodine jes ordered me an Missy to go to de +squar. He spoke stern an strong as if we his sogers. An Missy Mara look +'im in de eyes an say, you--dat's you, Marse Clancy--may be dead, or you +may be dyin, an dat she can't leab you an she won leab you. She got de +grit ob true lub, an dere'll neber be any runin away in her heart. Wot you +an Marse Bodine gwine ter do 'bout sich lub as dat? 'Fo' de Lawd my honey +lam' die ef you an Marse Bodine 'sist on bein so orful hon'ble. She ain't +one dem kin' dat takes a husban like dey takes a breakfas kase its ready." + +Clancy was so profoundly moved by what he heard that he turned away to +hide his emotion. After a moment he said: "You have been true and +faithful, Aun' Sheba. You won't be sorry. Please do as I have asked." And +he hastened away. + +"Reckon I put a spoke in dat hon'ble bizness," Aun' Sheba soliloquized. +"Like 'nuff I put another in. Doan cotch me hep'n along any sich +foolishness. I gibs no promise, an I'se gwine ter make my honey lam' happy +spite hersef." Then she took one of her grandchildren, and soothed it to +sleep. + +The slow hours dragged wearily on; the majority of the white people +quieted down to patient, yet fearful waiting; crying children, one after +another, dropped off to sleep; parents and friends watched over them and +one another, conversing in low tones or praying silently for the Divine +mercy, never before felt to be so essential. The negroes were more +demonstrative, and their loud prayers and singing of hymns continued +without abatement or hindrance. The expressions of some were so +extravagant and uncouth as to grate harshly on all natures possessing any +refinement; but when such men as Mr. Birdsall exhorted or prayed, there +were but few among the whites who did not listen reverently, and in their +hearts acknowledge the substantial truth of the words spoken and their +need of the petitions offered. + +Clancy went back to his watch. Few men in the city were more troubled and +perplexed than he, for he had not the calmness resulting from a definite +purpose as was true of Bodine. + +Unmovedly the two men remained at their posts of duty awaiting the day or +what might happen before the dawn. George lay down beside his father, and +soon slept from fatigue, while Mr. Houghton, now so softened and +chastened, vowed to make him happy. + +Ella watched her father in deep solicitude, feeling vaguely that his +trouble was not caused wholly by the general reasons for distress. At last +she stole to his side, and laid her head upon his shoulder. The act +comforted and sustained him more than she knew at the time, for he was not +a demonstrative man. He only kissed her tenderly and bade her return to +her cousin, with whom she kept up a whispered and fragmentary +conversation. Mrs. Willoughby sat beside her husband, her head pillowed +against his breast as they waited for the day. + +A breeze sprang up, and the freshness of the morning was in it. Would the +sun ever rise again? Was not Nature so out of joint that nothing familiar +could be looked for any more? The terrors of the long night inspired +morbid thoughts, which come too readily in darkness. + +At the appointed time, however, there was a glow in the east, which +steadily deepened in color. Truly, to the weary, haggard, shivering, +half-clad watchers, the sun was an angel of light that morning; and never +did fire-worshippers greet his rise with a deeper feeling of gratitude and +gladness. + +There was a general stir in the strange bivouac, an increased murmur of +voices. The hymns of the negroes gradually ceased; and people, singly or +in groups, began to leave the square for their homes, in order to clothe +themselves more fully, and to discover what was left to them in the +general wreck. + +There had been no shock since the convulsion at half-past two o'clock, the +fact inspiring general confidence that the worst was over. Hope grew +stronger with the blessed light, and fear vanished with the darkness. + +Mr. Houghton touched his son, who immediately awoke, meditating deeds of +hospitality. "Father," he said, "our house is near. Cannot I, with the aid +of Jube and Sam, get our friends some breakfast?" + +"Yes, George, and extend the invitation from me." + +"Oh, father! I'm so grateful that you are giving me this chance to--to--" + +"You shall have all the chance you wish. In fact, I'm rather inclined to +see what I can do myself. I may need a good deal of nursing." And the old +man's face was lighted up with a kindly smile, which made his son +positively happy. + +Approaching Bodine, he asked, "Do you think it will be safe for the +invalids to leave the square?" + +"I scarcely think so," was the reply. "At least, not until more time +passes without disturbance. From what I've read of earthquakes, our houses +may be unsafe for days to come." + +"Well, the first thing to be done is to see that you all have some +breakfast. Fortunately, our house is not far; and, although our +women-servants have fled, I have two men who will stand by me. The fact +is, my hunting expeditions have made me a fairly good cook myself. My +father cordially extends the invitation that all my friends here breakfast +with us." + +"I will join in your labors, Houghton," said Clancy, promptly. "Having no +home, I gratefully accept your father's invitation." + +"We're all shipwrecked on a desert island," added Mrs. Bodine cheerily to +George. "You appear to be one of the friendly natives, and I put myself +under your protection." + +"Our custom here is," replied the young fellow in like vein, "that, after +we have taken salt together, we become fast friends." + +"Bring on the salt, then," she answered laughing, while Ella's smile +seemed to the young fellow more vivifying than the first level rays of the +sun. Mara, Mrs. Hunter, and Miss Ainsley were still sleeping, as also was +Dr. Devoe. + +"Houghton," called Mr. Willoughby, "won't you enroll me as one of your +cooks or waiters?" + +"No," replied George, "I must leave you and Captain Bodine in charge of +camp." + +"Too many cooks spile de brof," said Aun' Sheba, rising from Mara's side +where she had been watching for the last hour. "Marse Houghton, you bery +fine cook fer de woods, I spec, but I reckon I kin gib a lil extra tech to +de doin's." + +"Ah, Aun' Sheba, if you'll come, you shall be chief cook, and I, for one, +promise to obey. Mrs. Willoughby, I'm so very glad that I can now return a +little of your kindness." + +"I take back what I said about absolving you," she whispered. + +"You'd better. If I don't make the most of my chance now my name is not +George Houghton. Of course I shan't say anything while these troubles +last. You understand, I don't wish anything to happen which would +embarrass her, or make it hard to accept what I can do for her and hers; +but when the right time comes," and he nodded significantly. + +"You are on the right tack as you boatmen say," she whispered laughing. + +"See here, Houghton," remarked jolly Mr. Willoughby, "earthquakes and +secret conferences with my wife are more than a fellow can stand at one +and the same time." + +"You shall soon have consolation," said George, hastening away, followed +by Clancy, Aun' Sheba, Jube, and Sam. When the last-named worthy appeared +near Mr. Houghton's barn the horses whinnied and the two dogs barked +joyously. + +"Mr. Clancy," said George, handing him his pocket-book, "since you have +kindly offered to aid, please take Jube and visit the nearest butcher's +shop and bakery. I suggest that you lay in a large supply, for we don't +know what may happen. Please get eggs, canned delicacies, anything you +think best. Don't spare money. Help yourself, if owners are absent. I will +honor all your I.O.U's." + +"All right, Houghton; but remember that I'm an active partner in this +catering business. Fortunately I don't need to go to the bank for money." + +Aun' Sheba exclaimed over the evidences of disaster along the street, but +when she saw what a wreck Mr. Houghton's massive portico had become she +lifted her hands in dismay. + +"That don't trouble me," said George, "since I'm not under it. I passed +beneath a second or two before it fell." + +"De Lawd be praised! 'Pears ter me He know wot He 'bout, an is gwine ter +bring down pride ez well ez piazzers." + +"It looks that way, Aun' Sheba. Here, Sam, make the kitchen fire before +you do anything else. Now we must rummage and see what we can find." + +Aun' Sheba took possession of the kitchen, and with broom, mop, and +cloths, soon brought order out of chaos. Sam found that although the +chimney had lost its top, it fortunately drew, and the fire in the range +speedily proved all that could be desired. George ravaged the store-closet +until Aun' Sheba said, "Nuff heah already ter feed de squar." + +Then he went up and looked about the poor wrecked home, meanwhile setting +Sam to dusting chairs and carrying them to the square. Then a table, +crockery, knives, forks, spoons, napkins, etc., were despatched. + +Clancy and Jube found that the proprietors of some of the shops were +plucking up courage to enter them and resume trade, and so they eventually +returned well laden with provisions. Then Jube was sent with wash-basins, +water and towels for ablutions. Meantime George and Clancy took a hasty +bath and exchanged their ruined clothing for clean apparel. + +"Houghton, you are a godsend to us all," exclaimed his friend. + +"I suppose the whole affair is a godsend," was the reply; "anyway, I'm +getting my satisfaction out of it this morning." + +As sprightly Mrs. Willoughby saw the applicances for their comfort +following one after another she said to Ella, "We may as well make believe +that it is a picnic." + +Ella smiled and replied, "I'm better dressed for breakfast than you are, +for I have on a wrapper, and you are in a low-necked evening costume." + +"I feel as if I could eat a breakfast all the same. What creatures these +mortals be! A little while ago I was in the depths of misery, and now I'm +hungry and kind of happy." + +"Oh, you are," said her husband, "when you may have to take in washing for +a living, while I shovel brick and mortar." + +"No, indeed," cried his wife, "I'll join the firm of Wallingford and +Bodine, and you can help Aun' Sheba peddle cakes." + +"That's right, children," said Mrs. Bodine, "that's the true brave +Southern spirit. We are all born soldiers, seamen rather, since the land +has been as freakish as the waves. Now mind, I'll send the first one below +who shows the white feather." + +Mr. Houghton lay apart from this group; and, while he felt his isolation, +knew that he was to blame for it. They also felt the awkwardness of their +situation, not knowing how far he was willing or able to converse with +them. Mr. Willoughby was about to break the ice, but Ella forestalled him. +"Mr. Houghton," she said, timidly approaching, "is there anything we can +do for you? We are all so grateful." + +"Yes, Miss Bodine. Forget and forgive." + +"There seems very little now to forgive, and we do not wish to forget your +kindness." + +"Good Lor!" whispered Mrs. Bodine to Mrs. Willoughby, "I couldn't have +turned a neater sentence myself." + +"Well, Miss Bodine," resumed Mr. Houghton, "I suppose we shall have to let +bygones be bygones. Now that sunshine and brightness have come, we should +not recall anything painful. I trust that the worst is over, but our +courage may yet be sorely tried. I will esteem it a very great favor if +you and your friends will accept without reluctance what my son can do for +your comfort." + +Ella could not repress a little laugh of pleasure as she replied, "It is +too late now to affect any reluctance. We owe him so much that we might as +well owe him more." Then, ever practical, she arranged a screen to shade +his face from the sun's rays. + +Mr. Willoughby now came up and spoke in a friendly way of the probable +effects of the disaster upon the city, and so the touch of mutual kindness +began to make them kin. + +Mrs. Hunter commenced to moan and toss, and this awakened Miss Ainsley, +who looked around wonderingly. Mrs. Willoughby in low tones recalled what +had happened, and explained the present aspect of affairs. Mrs. Bodine +performed the same office for Mara, who also had been aroused by the +voices near. The girl's habit of self-control served her in good stead, +and she immediately rose, gave her hand to Bodine in greeting, and then +knelt beside her aunt. Seeing Mara so near, Miss Ainsley quickly rose +also, and moved away in instinctive antipathy. + +Mrs. Hunter was feverish and evidently very ill. She was unable to +comprehend what was taking place, but recognized Mara, whose soothing +touch and words alone had the power of quieting her. + +Ella bathed Mrs. Bodine's face and hands, and enabled her to make "the +ghost of a toilet," as the old lady said. Then Ella whispered, "I wish I +could do as much for Mr. Houghton." + +"I dare you to do it," said Mrs. Bodine, with a mirthful gleam in her +eyes. + +Ella caught her spirit, and without hesitation, although blushing like a +rose, went to Mr. Houghton, and asked, "Will you please let me bathe your +hands and face also?" + +"Why, Miss Bodine, I should not expect such kindness from you. I can wait +till my son returns." + +"He is doing so much that he will be tired. It would give me pleasure if +you will permit it. In waiting on my cousin I've learned to be not a very +awkward nurse." + +"Well, Miss Bodine, I am learning that even earthquakes can bring pleasant +compensations. You shall have your own way. Yes, you are a good nurse, and +a brave and patient one. Your kindness to that poor creature who died in +your arms touched my heart." + +"And mine too, Mr. Houghton. She told me a very pitiful story." + +"You shall tell it to me some time, my dear." + +Her heart thrilled as he gently spoke these words, while George, striding +up with a great platter of steak, almost dropped it as he saw the girl +waiting on his father as if filial relations were already established. The +old man enjoyed his look of pleased wonder, and, when he had a chance, +whispered, "I'm getting ahead of you, my boy, I don't want your clumsy +hands or Jube's around me any more." Mrs. Bodine put her head under the +blanket and shook with silent laughter. + +Ella was very shy of the young man, however. He could not catch her eye, +nor get a chance to speak to her except in the presence of her father, +Mrs. Bodine, or some one else. But he possessed his soul in patience, and +did his best to be a genial host. Clancy, Jube, and Sam followed with the +coffee and various comestibles. Miss Ainsley was a little effusive in her +greeting of the man whom she had deserted in the street, and again had +left to pass the night as he could, while she sought oblivion. His +response was grave, kind, yet not altogether reassuring. He certainly +indulged in no lover-like glances; and he went direct to Mara, and +inquired gently after Mrs. Hunter. She replied quietly, without looking +up. It was evident that the sound of his voice distressed the injured +woman, who was barely conscious enough to have vague memories of the past. + +Weary Dr. Devoe was wakened, while George gave Mrs. Willoughby his arm, +and gallantly placed her behind the coffee-urn. Even Captain Bodine +assumed a measure of cheerfulness during breakfast. When newsboys came +galloping up with the morning paper, Mr. Willoughby rose and waved his +hat, joining in the general hurrah which rose from all parts of the +square. Every one warmly appreciated the heroism displayed in gathering +news and printing a journal during the past night. Next to the vivifying +light and the apparent cessation of the shocks, nothing did more to +restore confidence than the appearance of the familiar paper. + +"Old Charleston is alive yet," cried Mr. Willoughby; "and if the rest of +us have half the pluck shown in that printing-house, we'll soon restore +everything." + +"Give me a paper," said Mrs. Bodine. "I'd rather have it than my +breakfast." + +"You shall have both," replied Ella, bringing a little tray to her side. + +"Ah, Cousin Hugh, you veterans never did anything braver. Own up." + +"I do, most sincerely and heartily." + +Clancy read the journal aloud; and the coffee grew cold as all listened +breathlessly to a chapter in the city's history never to be forgotten. Mr. +Houghton was so absorbed that he suddenly became conscious that Ella was +beside him with the daintiest of breakfasts. "You are spoiling me for any +other nurse," he said. + +"It is a relief at such a time to care for those who are ill and feeble," +she replied gently. "If we have to stay here, I hope you will let me wait +on you; but I trust that we can all soon go to our homes." + +"I have my doubts. Now give me the pleasure of seeing you make a good +meal." + +"Mr. Clancy," cried Mrs. Willoughby, "in the general chaos women may +obtain their just pre-eminence. I shall take the lead by ordering you to +lay down that paper, so that you and others may have a hot breakfast." + +Mara could be induced to take nothing beyond a cup of coffee. In spite of +the sunshine and the general reaction into hopefulness and courage, she +felt that black chaos was coming into her life. Her aunt and natural +protector was very ill. After the events of the night she shrank +inexpressibly from her former relations to Bodine. Indeed, it seemed +impossible to continue them. Yet she asked herself again and again, "What +else is there for me?" He was very kind, but the expression of his face +was inscrutable. Moreover, there was Miss Ainsley acting as if Clancy were +her own natural property, and he unable to dispute her claims. It appeared +to her that poor stricken Mrs. Hunter was her only refuge, and she +resolved to remain close by the invalid's side. + +With the coming of the day Uncle Sheba's most poignant fears had gradually +subsided. He kept his eyes on his wife, feeling that any good that he +might hope for in this world would come through her. Indeed the impression +was growing that the greatest immediate good to be obtained from any world +was a breakfast; and when Aun' Sheba went with George to his home, Unc. +also followed at a discreet distance. The result was that his wife again +had to put him on a "'lowance," or little would have been left in Mr. +Houghton's kitchen. He surreptitiously stuffed a few eatables into his +pocket, and then went out to smoke his pipe. + +Breakfast was at last over at the square. Mr. Willoughby rose and said to +his wife, "I will go to the house, and get more suitable costumes for you +and Carrie. Houghton will loan you a dressing-room at his house, for the +streets can be scarcely suitable for you to traverse yet. I'll bring a +carriage for you, however, as soon as it is possible. Serious danger is +now over, I hope." + +He had scarcely uttered the words when, as if in mockery, far in the +southeast was heard again the sound which appalled the stoutest hearts. On +it came, as if a lightning express-train were thundering down upon them. +They saw the tops of distant trees nod and sway as if agitated by a gale; +men, women, and children rushing again, with loud cries, from their homes; +then it seemed as if some subterranean monster was tearing its way through +the earth. + +The moment the paralysis of terror passed, Miss Ainsley threw herself +shrieking upon Clancy, who was compelled to support and soothe her. Mara +covered her face with her hands, trembled violently, but uttered no sound. +Ella could not repress a cry, as she hid her face upon her father's +breast, a cry echoed by Mrs. Willoughby as she and her husband clung +together. George knelt, holding the hand of his father, who looked at his +son with the feeling that, if the end had come, his boy should be the last +object on which his eyes rested. Mrs. Bodine was as composed as the +veteran himself, and simply looked heavenward. There was something so +terrific in the immeasurable power of the convulsion, so suggestive of +immediate and awful death, that few indeed could maintain any degree of +fortitude. + +There was one, however, a few rods away, who scarcely noticed the shock. +Kern Watson, at last released from duty, sat on the ground, with his face +buried in the neck of his dead child. He did not raise his head, and +trembled only as the quivering earth agitated his form. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +A CITY ENCAMPING + + +The earthquake which occurred at 8:25 Wednesday morning had a disastrous +effect, although it was not so severe as to injure materially the +buildings already so shattered. It nipped hope and growing confidence in +the bud. Multitudes had left the square for their homes, a large +proportion with the immediate purpose of obtaining more clothing. Many +would have been comparatively naked were it not for enveloping blankets +and the loan of articles of apparel from the more fortunate. With the +confidence which the morning and the continued quiet of the earth inspired +there had been a general movement from the square. Some hastily dressed +themselves, snatched up bedding and food, and returned to the open spaces +immediately; others breakfasted at home, and some had the heart to begin +the task of putting their houses in order. The shock drove them forth +again with all their fears renewed and increased, for the homes, which in +many cases had been a refuge for generations, were now looked upon as +deathtraps, threatening to mangle and torture as well as destroy. The love +of gain, the instinct to preserve property, was also obliterated. +Merchants deserted their shops and warehouses. Banks were unopened, except +for the gaps rent by the earthquake. The city was full of food, yet people +went hungry, not daring to enter the places where it was stored. After a +second and general flight to the square, the question in all hearts, "What +next?" paralyzed with its dread suggestion. + +The fear among the educated had become definite and rational. Not that +they could explain the earthquake or its causes, but the sad experiences +of other regions were known to them. These experiences, however, had +varied so greatly in their horrors as to leave a wide margin of terrible +possibilities. A tidal wave might roll in, for the city was scarcely more +than nine feet above the sea. The earth might open in great and ingulfing +fissures. The tremendous forces beneath them might seek a volcanic outlet. +These were all dire thoughts, and were brought home to the consciousness +the more vividly because the awful phenomena continued in the serene light +of day. The nightmare aspect of what had occurred in darkness passed away, +and the coolest and most learned found themselves confronted by dangers +which they could not gauge or explain. Nor could the end be foreseen. If +such considerations weighed down the spirits of the most intelligent men, +imagine the fears of frail, nervous women, of the children, the wild panic +of the superstitious negroes to whom science explained nothing. To their +excited minds the earthquake was due directly either to the action of a +malignant, personal devil, or of an angry God. While many of the poor +ignorant creatures inevitably indulged in what were justly termed +"religious orgies," the great majority were well behaved and patient, +finding in their simple faith unspeakable comfort and support. + +One fact, however, was clear to all: that the place of immediate and +greatest danger was near or beneath anything which might be prostrated by +the recurring shocks. + +Another feature in Wednesday's experience was very depressing. The city +was completely isolated from the rest of the world. All telegraph-wires +were down, all railroads leading into the city had been rendered +impassable. For many hours those without who had friends and relatives in +Charleston were kept in dreadful suspense. From adjacent cities reports of +the catastrophe were flashed continuously, but in regard to Charleston +there was an ominous lack of information, and the fear was very general +that the city by the sea had sunk beneath the waves. + +Mr. Ainsley shared in this horrible dread. He telegraphed repeatedly from +an inland town, and took the first train despatched toward the city. His +daughter was right in believing that he would reach her at the earliest +possible moment. + +She was greatly demoralized by the shock which dissipated her impression +of comparative safety; and when she realized that the city was utterly cut +off from the outside world, that it was impossible to know when her father +could arrive, she gave way to selfish fear and the deepest dejection. With +embarrassing pertinacity she insisted that Clancy should remain near her. +Even to the others it was apparent that fear, rather than affection, led +her to desire his presence so earnestly. He had once wondered what kind of +a woman was masked by her culture and a reserve so perfect that it had +seemed frankness. The veneer now was stripped off. After her own fashion, +she was almost as abject in her terror as Uncle Sheba, who had run howling +back to the square, leaving the wife who had fed him to her fate. In her +lack of honest sympathy for others, and indisposition to exert herself in +their behalf, Miss Ainsley quite equalled the selfish old negro. The +conventional world in which she had shone to such advantage had passed +away. Her very perfection in form and feature made defects in character +more glaring, for she was seen to be a fair yet broken promise. + +How sweetly the noble qualities of Ella and Mara were revealed by +comparison! They had been taught in the school of adversity. From +childhood they had learned to think of others first rather than of +themselves. Miss Ainsley would have been resplendent and at ease in a +royal drawing-room; these two girls maintained womanly fortitude and gave +themselves up to unselfish devotion in the presence of a mysterious power +which would level an emperor's palace as readily as a negro's cabin. + +Clancy saw the difference--no one more clearly--and his very soul recoiled +from the woman he had purposed to marry. He patiently bore with her as +long as he could after the shock, and then joined Mr. Willoughby, George, +Bodine, and Dr. Devoe, who were consulting at Mr. Houghton's bedside. In +his shame and distress he did not venture even to glance at Mara. + +As the stress of the emergency increased Mr. Houghton's mind had grown +clear and decided; his old resolute, business habits asserted themselves, +and from his low couch he practically became the leader in their council. +"From what we know of other and like disturbances," he said, "it is +impossible to foresee when these shocks will end, or how soon a refuge can +be sought in regions exempt from our dangers. Now that I am established in +this square near my home I intend to remain here for the present. I +cordially ask you all to share my fortunes. My son will spare no expense +or effort, that can be made in safety, for our general comfort." Then he +added before them all, "Captain Bodine, I have done you much wrong and +discourtesy. I apologize. You have invalid and injured ladies in your +charge. Their claims are sacred and imperative. I will esteem it a favor +if you will permit my son to do what he can for their comfort and +protection." + +Bodine at once came forward, and giving Mr. Houghton his hand, replied, +"You and your son are teaching me that I have done you both much greater +wrong. I think I shall have to surrender as I did once before, but I am +glad that it is to kindness rather than to force in this instance." + +"Here's the true remedy for our differences," cried Mr. Willoughby. "Let +the North and South get acquainted, and all will be well. But come, we +must act, and act promptly." + +"Yes," replied George, "for the square is filling up again, and we should +keep as much space here as possible. I have a small tent which I will put +up at once for Mrs. Bodine and Mrs. Hunter. Then I'll rig an awning for my +father, and help the rest of you in whatever you decide upon." + +"George," said his father, anxiously, "let your visits to the house be as +brief as possible." + +Clancy offered to assist George in meeting the immediate need of shelter +from the sun, and Dr. Devoe gave the morning to the care of his many +patients. Mr. Willoughby said that he must first go to his home for +clothing and to look after matters, but that he would soon return. Bodine +was asked to mount guard and prevent, as far as possible, the fugitives +from encroaching on the needed space. This proved no easy task. Old Tobe, +after having received some breakfast, maintained his watch over the +medical stores, while Aun' Sheba, who had followed her husband as fast as +her limited powers of travelling permitted, cleared away the remnants of +the breakfast for her family, George assuring her that he would soon make +all comfortable provision for her and them. + +With Clancy and the two colored men he repaired to his home, as the +wrecked venture to a ship which may break up at any moment, in order to +secure what was absolutely essential. A tent was soon pitched for the +invalids; a shelter of quilts suspended over and around his father, and a +large carpet jerked from the floor formed an awning for the ladies. Part +of this awning was partitioned off so as to give them all the privacy +possible under the circumstances, and the remainder was inclosed on three +sides, but left open toward the east. + +"I'm not going to be sent to the hospital," said Mrs. Bodine. "I'd rather +sit up and direct Ella how to transform this outer habitation into a +drawing-room." + +Then George brought her and his father easy-chairs. Rugs were spread on +the grass, and the rude shelter became positively inviting. Ella and Mrs. +Willoughby made themselves so useful that at last Miss Ainsley so far +recovered from her panic as to assist. She detested Mara, and Mrs. +Hunter's ghastly face and white hair embodied to her mind the terror of +which all were in dread. The bright sunshine and homely work were +suggestive of rural pleasures rather than of dire necessity, and helped, +for the time, to retire the spectre of danger to the background. The +coming and going of many acquaintances and friends also helped to rally +her spirits, and incite her to the semblance of courage. Mrs. Willoughby, +Mrs. Bodine, and Mara had stanch friends who sought them out the moment +comparative safety had been secured for their nearer dependants. The +demands of our story require nothing more than the brief statement that +there was a general disposition on the part of the people to think of and +care for all who had claims upon them. Even in the dreadful hours +immediately following the first shock, much unselfish heroism was +displayed; and during the weary days and nights which followed, men and +women vied with each other in their attentions to those who most needed +care. + +Mrs. Bodine, Mrs. Willoughby, and the captain had several whispered +conferences with those who felt surprise at associations with Mr. +Houghton, and there was a quick, generous response to the old man's +kindness. Some who would not have looked at him the day before now went +and spoke to him gratefully and sympathetically, while for George only +cordiality and admiration were manifested. He was not a little uneasy over +the profuse attentions and offers of help which Ella received from several +young men. To his jealous eyes she appeared unnecessarily gracious, and +more ready to talk with them than with him; but he could not discover that +she had an especial favorite among them. Indeed, she managed in their case +as in his that Mrs. Willoughby, Miss Ainsley, or some one else should +share in the conversation. + +At last Bodine said to George, "I will now go to Mrs. Hunter's rooms and +to Mrs. Bodine's residence, and obtain what is most essential. Can you +spare one of your servants to carry what I cannot?" + +"Certainly, and I will go with you myself. Clancy and Sam can continue +operations here." + +"George," said his father, "as soon as the absolute necessity for entering +buildings is over, I wish you to keep away from them." + +"Yes, father." + +Ella added, "Remember, Mr. Houghton, that is a promise. Please let the +words 'absolute necessity' have their full meaning;" and her face was so +full of solicitude that he said, "I promise you also." + +With a smile and flush she turned to her father whispering the tenderest +cautions and emphasizing the truth that but few things were essential, +some of which she mentioned. Jube had become like a faithful spaniel, the +spirit of his young master reassuring him so as to feel his only safety +lay in obedience. + +As George and Bodine went down the street they were saddened by the +evidences of disaster on every side. Even Meeting Street was still so +obstructed as to be almost impassable for vehicles, and in some places the +ruins were still being searched for the dead. When they reached Mrs. +Hunter's home Bodine groaned inwardly, "How the poor girl must have +suffered!" He added aloud, "The mental distress caused by my helplessness +during the last few hours, Mr. Houghton, has been much harder to bear than +the wound which cost me my leg and the suffering which followed." + +"My dear captain," replied George, "your courage and clear head make you +far less helpless than hundreds who only use their legs to run with. Let +me enter this shell of a house alone." + +"That would be a sad commentary on your remark." + +They speedily obtained what they deemed essential, and turned off the gas, +which was still burning. It was evident that no one had entered the house +since its occupants had left it. Mrs. Bodine's residence was comparatively +uninjured, and when leaving it the captain was able to lock the outer +door. + +On their way back to the square George stammered: + +"Captain Bodine, it may be very bad taste to speak of such a matter now, +but we do not know what an hour will bring forth. I would like to have +some understanding with you. Beyond that there may be no need of anything +further being said until all these troubles are over. I--I--well, can I +venture to make my former request? Your daughter has my happiness wholly +in her hands. I do not intend to embarrass her by a word until she is +again in her own home, but I wish to know that my hopes and efforts to win +her regard have your sanction." + +"How does your father feel about this?" Bodine asked gravely. + +"He has given his full and cordial approval. Now that he has seen Miss +Bodine she has won him completely." + +"Mr. Houghton, I owe to you her life which I value more than my own. You +know we are lacking in everything except pride and good name." + +"My dear sir," interrupted George earnestly, "God has endowed your +daughter as man could not. You know I love and honor her for herself and +always shall." + +"You are right," said the father proudly, "and you are so truly a man, as +well as a gentleman, that you estimate my penniless daughter at her +intrinsic worth. As far as my approval and good wishes are concerned you +have them." + +Ella thought that George's face was wonderfully radiant when he appeared. +As soon as she could get a word alone with her father, she asked, "What +have you been saying to Mr. Houghton?" + +"I have only answered his second request that he might pay you his +addresses." + +"Oh, papa! what a tantalizing answer! What did he say, and what did you +say, word for word? Surely you didn't tell--" + +"I only gave my consent, not yours. You are at perfect liberty to reject +him," was the smiling reply. + +"That is well as far as it goes, but I wish to know every word." + +Her father's heart was too heavy to permit continuance in a playful vein, +and he told her substantially what had been said. "Well," she concluded, +with a complacent little nod, "I think I'll let him pay his addresses a +while longer. The absurd fellow to go and idealize me so! Time will cure +such folly, however. Papa, there's something troubling you besides the +earthquake." + +"Yes, Ella, and you must help me--you and Cousin Sophy." Then he told her +how he thought matters stood between Mara and Clancy, checked her first +indignant words, explained and insisted until she promised that she and +Mrs. Bodine would shield Mara, and act as if she were as free as she had +ever been. "It will all come about yet, papa," Ella whispered, "for Mr. +Clancy has evidently committed himself to Miss Ainsley, although now I +reckon he regrets it." + +"Well, Ella dear, redouble your kindness and gentleness to Mara, and let +matters over which we have no control take their course." + +Clancy had not been idle during the morning, finding in constant +occupation, and even in the incurring of risks, a relief to his perturbed +thoughts. He and Sam procured a small cooking-stove, and also set up the +cross-sticks of a gypsy camp before the open side of the awning. Aun' +Sheba was placed in charge of the provisions, a responsibility in which +Uncle Sheba wished to share, but she said severely, "Mr. Buggone, you'se +dun git yer lowance wid Sissy an' de chil'n." + +Mr. Willoughby at last returned on an express-wagon, well loaded with +articles which would add much comfort in the enforced picnic. His face was +sad and troubled as he greeted his wife. + +"Oh, Jennie," he said, "our pretty home is such a wreck!" + +"No matter, Hal, since you are safe and sound," was her cheery reply. +"Come, girls, we can now dress for dinner. I feel like a fool in this +light silk." + +They all eventually reappeared in costumes more suitable for camping. + +Mrs. Bodine was also enabled to exchange her blanket wrapper for the one +she was accustomed to wear at home. With almost the zest of a girl she +appreciated the picturesque elements of their experiences; and her high +spirits and courage were infectious. With the aid of Sam and Jube, Aunt +Sheba entered vigorously on preparations for dinner; a breeze with passing +clouds tempered the sun's hot rays; and hope again began to cheer as time +passed without further disturbance. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + +"ON JORDAN'S BANKS WE STAND" + + +Aunt Sheba had succeeded fairly well with the dinner, considering the +materials and the appliances available. Not one, however, was disposed to +epicurean fastidiousness. The situation was gravely discussed, and the +experiences of friends related. Dr. Devoe gave cheering assurances that +injury to life and limb had been far less than might have been expected. +"The first shock could scarcely have come at a better time," he said. "If +it had happened when the streets were full of people, one shudders to +think of the number that would have been killed or maimed. The fact is, +the great majority of casualties appear to have occurred as people were +leaving their houses." + +Mrs. Hunter received much attention from him, and she continued so ill +that Mara did not leave her. Bodine became convinced that a chance to +speak with Mara in private might not be obtained very speedily, and +therefore, with kindly consideration for her feelings, resolved to write +that afternoon. He had nothing at hand better than pencil and note-book. +He wrote: + +"MY DEAR MARA--You have so many sorrows and anxieties now that I cannot +wait longer in my effort to relieve you of one of them. You should have +been more frank with me; yet, so far from reproaching you, I only remember +that you are the daughter of my dearest friend, and that you need me as +protector and father rather than as lover. I appreciate your motive to +sacrifice yourself for my sake. Perhaps you will remember that I have +warned you against this noble impulse of self-sacrifice--a tendency, +however, which may be carried much too far. You utterly misjudge me if you +think I would consciously accept any such sacrifice on your part. As far +as I am concerned you are free from any obligation whatever, except that +of trusting me, and coming to me as Ella does, as nearly as you can. You +need a stanch and faithful protector against yourself, and such will be +HUGH BODINE." + +Ella carried this missive into the little tent set apart for Mrs. Hunter. +When Mara read the note she hid it in her bosom, and buried her face in +her hands. Ella tried to soothe her, assuring her that she knew how it had +all come about, and that it would make no difference in her love. + +"Oh, Ella!" Mara sobbed, "my pride needed humbling, and I am overwhelmed +in very truth. I thought I was superior to you, and that my course was so +heroic. The result is I have wronged and made unhappy your father, the man +I honor most in all the world. Oh, I feel now that it would have been +better if I had been buried under the ruins." + +"Mara," said Ella firmly, "this is a time when we must make the best of +everything--when we should not waste our strength in grieving over what +cannot be helped. Papa has explained everything to me, and you will only +wound him further if you do not comply with his wishes. He is very +resolute; and, in a matter of this kind, you could not move him a +hair's-breadth. Please do just what he asks now, and let time make future +duty clearer." + +Bodine was not astray in thinking that his note would relieve Mara's mind. +Sad and humiliated as she was, his words had taken her from a false +position, and would enable her to give him the filial love and homage with +which her heart overflowed. Even if Clancy escaped from his entanglement, +which she much doubted, she felt that both should pay the penalty of their +errors in long probation. + +As the afternoon wore away Mrs. Willoughby and Mrs. Bodine took some +much-needed rest. Clancy went down town to look after his own affairs. Mr. +Houghton had a consultation with his confidential man of business, at +which George was present. Then the young fellow busied himself in +perfecting the camp appointments and securing more provisions. + +Kern Watson and his family, Aun' Sheba and her husband, with old Tobe and +a few friends and neighbors, knelt around the remains of little Vilet as +Mr. Birdsall offered a prayer. Bodine, Ella, and George, with his two +servants, were also present. Then the minister and a few others helped the +stricken father to bury his child. After the brief service the captain +told Ella that she must go and rest till he called her. + +George ventured to walk back with the tearful girl and to say, "Miss +Bodine, you seem to have a hand to help and a heart to feel with every +one." + +"I should be callous indeed," she replied, "if I did not grieve at the +death of that little girl. She aided in my effort to earn a livelihood. I +saw her daily, and no one could help becoming fond of her, she was so +good, and gentle, and quiet. Her poor father--how I pity him! The mute +anguish in his face was overpowering. He is the most quiet, but he grieves +the most, and will never get over it." + +"I think you are right, Miss Bodine. I don't believe your intuitions would +often lead you astray." + +"I am very matter-of-fact," Ella replied. + +"If I admit that, I must also add that one would have to do his level best +to furnish the kind of facts you would approve of." + +"And I must also add, Mr. Houghton, that you are furnishing them in +plenty. I can never try to thank you, for I shouldn't know where to begin, +or when to leave off." + +"Please leave off now. Oh, Miss Bodine! I am so grateful for your kindness +to my father, and he is just as pleased as I am." + +"Ah! I've at last caught you in a bit of selfishness," she said with a +piquant smile. "You would keep the privilege of thanking people while +denying it to me;" and she vanished before he could reply. + +"Oh!" he groaned inwardly, "if any of these Southern fellows carry her +off, I'm done for." + +Miss Ainsley spent a very wretched afternoon. Clancy was away, Mrs. +Willoughby worn out, and she was left chiefly to her own resources, which +were meagre indeed under the circumstances. Instead of forgetting self in +behalf of those less fortunate, she brooded over what she deemed neglect. +Mr. Willoughby talked to her for a time after dinner, and then busied +himself in helping others provide shelter against the coming night; +loaning here and there some of the articles which he had brought from his +home. Throughout the day multitudes had been making preparations to spend +the night in the squares, vacant lots, and in spacious yards. Few had been +so forehanded as George Houghton, who had the advantage of abundant means, +and good, fearless help in his efforts. By this time, however, the square +was well covered by almost every variety of hastily improvised shelters, +and the rays of the late afternoon sun brought out rainbow hues, strange +and picturesque effects, so diverse were the materials employed and the +ingenuity in construction which had been exercised. + +Clancy had been almost reckless in his disposition to enter buildings, a +risk which few others would incur on that day. He returned after four +o'clock with a large supply of provisions, which he believed might be +difficult to obtain should the shocks continue with greater violence. So +far from observing that he was pale from exhaustion, Miss Ainsley was +inclined to be reproachful that he had remained away so long. He listened +wearily for a time, then answered, "I did not think that I could be +especially useful here. _Men_, like soldiers, _must_ do what must be done. +I have taken pains to learn in your behalf that telegraphic and railroad +communication will soon be re-established, and I have arranged, as soon as +a despatch can be sent, to have one forwarded to your father's last +address, assuring him that you are safe." + +"My father is not at the place of his last address. If he is alive, he is +trying to reach me, and he will not leave me till he has taken me utterly +away from all this horror and danger. I hope you are ready to leave +Charleston now." + +"Leave my native city in its present plight! Why, Miss Ainsley, that would +be almost like running away and leaving my mother." + +"Are brick and mortar more to you than I am?" + +"Bricks and mortar do not make Charleston, but the people with whom I have +always lived. I will certainly take you to a place of safety, if your +father cannot; but my duty is here. I would not only lose the respect of +every one, but also my own self-respect, if I did not cast in my lot with +this people until every vestige of ruin has disappeared." + +"I'm sure I never wish to see the place again," she replied sullenly. + +"It would be unjust for me to expect that you should feel as I do about +it; but I am a citizen, and you yourself would eventually despise me were +I not faithful to my obligations." + +This method of putting the case silenced her for the time. She knew that +he had ascribed to her a higher conception of duty than she possessed, and +she believed that he was also aware of the fact. Since she had gone so far +with him she now wished him to be a blind, unquestioning lover, wholly +devoted and ready to fly with her at the first opportunity. The very +qualities which they had mutually admired were now seen on their seamy +side. Her cosmopolitan spirit which led her to sigh, "Anywhere so it be +not Charleston," was now at war with his feeling of almost passionate +commiseration for his stricken birthplace; while she in turn found his +unyielding nature and keen perceptions which had afforded such pleasure in +overcoming and meeting were now not at all to her wishes. She had yielded +to him as never before to any one, and was intensely chagrined that he was +not wholly subservient to her. If he should not become so she could never +think of him without humiliation. He had seen her undisguised in all her +weakness. She had thrown herself into his arms and implored his protection +almost as unreservedly as Mrs. Willoughby had clung to her husband. She +had also left him when he was helpless, and again when he was ill and +weak. What she required now, therefore, was a blind idolatry; and so many +had offered this that she felt entitled to it, even though there should be +no such devotion on her part. If, in any sense, he should be critic as +well as lover, he could make her exceedingly uncomfortable; and she had a +growing perception that he was comparing her with others, that there was a +lack of warmth in his words and manner, which even the circumstances could +not extenuate. She resolved, therefore, to teach him that she would +tolerate nothing halfway in his conduct. She was sitting on a chair while +he reclined at her feet, and she determined that he should be at her feet +in a sense which had large meanings to her. So she rose and said coldly, +"Mr. Clancy, you seem to have so many obligations that I scarcely know +where I come in." + +Then she went toward the awning, intending to withdraw herself from his +society until he should become sufficiently humble. He rose in strong +irritation, too weary even to be patient. At this instant the shock which +occurred at 5.16 passed over the city. In a second all her purposes +vanished; her abject terror returned, and she threw herself on his breast, +and sobbing, buried her face on his shoulder. Mrs. Willoughby also fled to +her husband. As Mrs. Hunter had seemed quieter Aun' Sheba had been +watching in the place of Mara, who had sought a little rest beneath the +awning. She now came hastily out, but Clancy would not encounter her eyes. +Indeed, his false position overwhelmed him with increasing shame and +confusion. He resolved in a sort of desperation to meet Miss Ainsley's +requirements as far as possible until she was safe in her father's hands, +and then to become free. If he had known how Mara's position enabled her +to interpret his own he would have been more resigned. + +The shock which occurred so late in the day was a sad preparation for the +night, to which all looked forward with unspeakable dread. Such little +confidence or cheerfulness as had been maintained was dissipated; +weariness and deferred relief increased the general dejection; only the +bravest could maintain their fortitude. + +Mrs. Bodine's courage was due to a faith and a temperament which did not +fail her. The veteran remained quiet and steady, with soldier-like +endurance, but Ella was becoming exhausted. She had had very little sleep +for a long time, and had passed through strong excitement. Indeed, all her +powers had been taxed severely. While she had more physical and moral +courage than most girls of her age possess, she, like the great majority, +suffered much from fear at the recurrence of the shocks. As night came on +she yielded to the general depression. + +Aun' Sheba also had almost reached the limits of her powers, a fact she +could not help showing as she set about preparations for supper. George +instantly noted this. He had secured some rest the night before, and +possessed great capabilities of endurance combined with an unusually +fearless spirit. He also believed that this was his hour and opportunity, +and that he could do more to win Ella's favor that night by brave cheerful +effort than by any amount of love-making afterward. He little dreamed how +completely won she was already. Her plan of receiving his "address" +indefinitely had already lost its charms. She now simply longed to lean +her weary head upon his shoulder and be petted and comforted a little. +Unaware that the citadel could be had at any time for the asking, George +began his sapping and mining operations with great vigor. He made Aun' +Sheba sit down and give directions for supper, which he and his two +colored men carried out. Mrs. Bodine was the only one who would jest with +him, and he had a word of banter with her; and a cheery word for every one +as occasion permitted. + +"Bravo, George!" said Dr. Devoe, as they at last sat down to supper. "We +vote you the Mark Tapley of this occasion. I'm so used up that I've only +energy enough to drink a cup of coffee." + +Ella was about to wait on Mr. Haughton as before, but George intercepted +her, saying, "You are too tired." + +"I would rather," she urged with downcast eyes. She bore the tray to the +invalid, who looked at her very kindly, as he said, "You are worn out, my +dear." + +"Please don't speak that way," she faltered. "I'm just that silly and +tired that I can't stand anything." + +"You brave, noble girl! What haven't you stood and endured for the last +few hours and weeks! I have a very guilty conscience, Miss Bodine, and you +only can absolve me." + +"No one must be kind to me to-night, or I shall break down utterly;" and +dashing a tear away, she hastily withdrew. + +George heaped her plate; but when he saw that she would touch nothing but +her coffee, he looked at her with such deep solicitude in his face that +she sprang up and fled to the sheltering awning, leaving him perplexed and +troubled indeed. All were too well bred to make any remark upon this +little side scene. At her post of observation by the fire, and although +her eyes were full of tears, tributes to little Vilet, Aun' Sheba shook +for a moment with suppressed laughter. Motherly Mrs. Bodine soon followed +Ella, and taking her in her arms, said soothingly, "There, now, child, +have a good cry, and you'll feel better. I wish to the Lord, though, that +all the world had as little to cry about as you, my dear." + +"That's what provokes me so, cousin. It's so silly and weak." + +"Oh, well, Ella, you're done beat out, as Aun' Sheba says; and that's the +only trouble--that and the blindness of yonder great boy, who expects to +court you for months before venturing to stammer some incoherent nonsense. +Now, a Southern man--" + +"Cousin Sophy, I won't listen to such words," said Ella, the hot blood +coming into her pale face. "He isn't a great boy; he's the bravest man I +ever heard of. Now, when every one is giving out, he is only the braver +and stronger. If he is absurd enough to be afraid of me--Well, you are the +last one to speak so." + +"There, there, child; this is my way of feeling your pulse and giving a +little tonic," said Mrs. Bodine, laughing. "You have indications of strong +vitality, as the doctor would say. Bless the big Vandal! If I were a girl, +I'd set my cap at him myself." + +"Oh, Cousin Sophy! Aren't you ashamed to work me up so? Well, that is the +last glimmer of spunk that I can show to-night." + +"If I could only manage to give him a hint of your weak and defenceless +condition--" + +"Cousin Sophy, if you do anything of the kind--" and she almost sprang to +her feet. + +The old lady pulled her back, stopped her mouth with kisses, as she said, +"I won't tease you any more to-night." In a few moments she had soothed +the girl to sleep. + +George and Clancy now took full charge of the camp; for the members of +their party, both white and black, were so exhausted and depressed as to +be unequal to much exertion. Clancy seemed possessed by a sort of feverish +restlessness. If he had been soothed and quieted when he returned in the +afternoon, he would have passed the danger point unharmed; but his jaded +body and mind had been stung into renewed action, and now he was fast +losing the power to rest. Outraged Nature was beginning to take her +revenge, but no one except Bodine observed the fact. Again putting self +under his feet, he took Clancy aside, and said, "Pardon an old soldier, +but experience in the field has taught me when a man must stop. Dr. Devoe +is exhausted and asleep, or I would send him to you. So take honest advice +from me. If you don't quiet your nerves and sleep, you'll have trouble." + +Clancy, in grateful surprise, thanked him warmly, and said he would rest +later on. His hope was that Miss Ainsley would retire, for in his present +condition he felt that her voluble expressions of fear and general +dissatisfaction would be intolerable. At this juncture some one came and +said that a friend of his in another part of the square was ill and wished +to see him. He explained and excused himself to Miss Ainsley, who replied +only by a cold, reproachful glance. + +The light of day faded; the stars shone calmly above the strange scene, +where lamps and candles flickered dim and pale, like the hopes of those +who had lighted them. The murmur of conversation was lost in the loud +singing of hymns, prayers and exhortations on the part of the negroes. + +Mr. Birdsall had gathered many of his flock about him, and was conducting +a religious service in a fairly orderly manner. Both he and his people +yielded somewhat to the intense excitement of the occasion, but it was his +intention that the religious exercises should cease at a reasonable hour. + +Kern, Sissy, and Aun' Sheba were sitting silently near him, and at last +the minister said, "Bruder Watson, you an' your wife will feel bettah if +you express you'se feelin's, an' sing a while. I reckon, if I say you an' +you' wife will sing, they will be mo' quiet." + +Kern assented to anything like a call of duty, and Mr. Birdsall resumed, +"Fren's, in closin' de meetin' fer dis ebenin', Bruder an' Sista Watson +will sing a hymn togeder; an' we, respectin' dere berebement, will listen. +Dey have been greatly offlicted, for de Lawd has taken from dem de lam' of +dere bosoms. I ask you all now to listen to de expression of dere faith in +dis night ob sorrow. Den we mus' remembah dat de sick an' weak are in dis +squar, and gib dem a chance to res'." + +Kern lifted up his magnificent voice, charged with the pent-up feeling of +his heart, and his wife joined him with her rich, powerful contralto. + + "On Jordan's banks we stan', + An Jordan's stream roll by; + No bridge de watahs span, + De flood am risin high. + Heah it foam an' roar, de dark flood tide, + How shel we cross to de oder side? + + "De riber deep an strong, + De wabes am bery cole; + We see it rush along, + But who can venture bole? + Heah it foam an' roar, etc. + + "A little chile step down; + It go in de riber deep. + Kin little feet touch groun' + Whar mountain billows sweep? + Heah dem foam an roar, etc. + + "Dere comes a flash ob light, + Ober de cole dark wabes; + Dere come de angels' flight-- + See shinin' bans dat sabe, + From de watah's foam, de dark flood tide, + Fer de Lawd hab seen from de oder side. + + "Heah music swellin gran'; + Yes, songs of welcome ring, + White wings de riber span + De little chile to bring. + Den let ole Jordan roar, de dark flood tide; + We'se borne across to de oder side." + +The melodious duet rose and fell in great waves of sound, silencing all +other voices. Contrary to Mr. Birdsall's expectations, religious fervor +was only increased, and hoping to control it he asked Kern and Sissy to +lead in several familiar hymns. The negroes throughout the square promptly +responded, while not a few white refugees joined their voices to the +mighty diapason of sound, which often swelled into grand harmonies. + +Kern soon afterward went on duty for the night; Mr. Birdsall confined +himself to quiet ministrations to his own people, and the leadership of +the religious exercises fell into less judicious hands. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII + +LIGHTS AND SHADOWS OF A NIGHT + + +Aun' Sheba, with a devotion which quite equalled that to her own +offspring, returned to Mara with the intention of watching Mrs. Hunter +while the girl slept. She found Mrs. Bodine sitting with Mara, but the old +colored woman was received with a warmth of welcome and sympathy which put +her at ease at once. Mrs. Hunter had sunk into a kind of stupor rendering +her unconscious of what was passing, and therefore they conversed in low +tones. + +"I reckon we need have no secrets from Aun' Sheba," said Mrs. Bodine. + +"No," answered Mara, taking her old mammy's hand. "If ever a motherless +girl had a true friend I have one in Aun' Sheba." + +"Yes, honey, you'se right dar, an' I hopes you git right on some oder +tings. I put a spoke in de hon'ble business an' I'se ready to put mo' in." +She then briefly related her interview with Clancy and concluded, "Missy +Mara, fo' da Lawd, wot kin you do but mar'y Marse Clancy arter wot happen +wen he come fer you an' ole missus?" + +Mara made no reply, but sat with her face buried in her hands. + +"Aun' Sheba, this matter is all settled and settled honorably, too, as far +as it can be. Captain Bodine has released Mara in words of the utmost +kindness." + +"Well, now, he am quality!" ejaculated Aun' Sheba in hearty appreciation. + +"But," sobbed Mara, "it just breaks my heart--" + +"No, honey lam', it won' break you heart, nor his nuther. Doin' what's +right an' nat'ral an 'cordin to de Lawd doan break no hearts. It's de oder +ting wot dus in de long run, an' mar'in' gen'ly means a long run. You'd +hab ter begin by lyin' 'miscuously, as I tole Marse Clancy, an no good ud +come ob dat." + +"Well, it is all settled as far as Mara is concerned," said Mrs. Bodine, +with a little laugh, "and there need be no 'miscuous lying. How Mr. Clancy +will get out of his scrape remains to be seen." + +"Well, I tells you how he git out. I'se keep an eye on dat +limpsey-slimpsey runaway as well as on de pots an kittles, an she's gwine +ter run away agin from dis yere town jes as soon as de way open. Dat'll be +de las you see ob her." + +"She's had a hard time of it, poor thing," said Mrs. Bodine, charitably, +"and we can't expect her to feel about Charleston as we do. The question +is, will Mr. Clancy feel obliged to follow her eventually?" + +"I tink he's 'bliged not ter." + +"Well, Aun' Sheba, I'm glad you have such strong religious ideas of +marriage." + +"I'se feerd I ain't bery 'ligious 'bout anyting. I put myself on 'bation +while ago, but I kin'er forgits 'bout dat 'bation, I hab so much to tink +ob." + +Mrs. Bodine began to laugh as she said, "I thought you were a sensible +woman, Aun' Sheba." + +"Yes, I know. I did tole Marse Clancy dat I hab hoss-sense." + +"Then you were lying 'miscuously." + +"How dat, missus?" + +"Why, Aun' Sheba, do you think you have been hiding your light under a +bushel basket all this time? Old Hannah--poor old Hannah! I wonder what +has become of her--she and Mara have told me how you do for the sick and +poor. Don't you know that the Bible says, 'Inasmuch as ye have done it +unto one of the least of these My brethren ye have done it unto Me'? +You've sent me nice things more than once. I'm 'one of the least of +these.' You don't do these things to be seen of men." + +"No, nor I doesn't do it kase I specs ter git anoder string to my harp +bime-by. I does it kase I'se kin'er sorry fer de po' critters." + +"Exactly. That is why He fed the hungry and healed the sick. He was sorry +for them. Come, Aun' Sheba, don't be foolish any more." + +"I feels it kin'er sumptious ter be so shuah." + +"Now, Aun' Sheba, you _are_ doing wrong," said Mrs. Bodine, gravely and +earnestly. "The Lord has been very patient with you--more so than I would +be. If I had made you promises and you kept saying, 'I don't feel sure +about them,' I'd give you a piece of my mind." + +"Lor, missus, how you puts it! Is it dataway?" + +"Certainly." + +"Well, den, I jes takes myse'f off 'bation. I'se gwine ter hang onter de +promises. Lawd, Lawd, missus, I s'posed I'd hab ter groan so dey heah me +all ober de square fo' I could be 'ligious." + +"Oh, dear, hear it now! Such groaning makes every one else groan. The +voice that God hears is the wish of the heart and not a hullabaloo. How +shall we get through the night if this keeps up? If you'll help me to my +quarters I'll try to get what rest I can." + +When Aun' Sheba returned, Mara insisted on her lying down till she was +called. "I shall do something in this time of trouble except make +trouble," said the girl resolutely, and she would take no denial. + +Clancy found that his friend needed much attention, which he gave until +warned by his own symptoms that he must see a physician. He found George +lying on a blanket by a small fire, and that all the others were either +sleeping or resting. "I declare I hate to waken Dr. Devoe," he said, "but +I feel as if I were going to be ill." + +George felt the hand of his friend, and sprang up, saying, "I'll waken Dr. +Devoe with or without your leave." + +After a brief examination the physician said: + +"Why did you not come to me before?" + +Clancy explained that he had been caring for a sick friend, to which the +doctor replied testily: + +"I don't believe he was half so ill as you are. Well, you must obey me now +as long as you are rational, and I fear that won't be very long." And he +promptly placed Clancy under the open part of the awning, which was the +sleeping-room for the men by night, and general living-room by day. Having +given his patient a remedy, he returned and said, "Here you are, too, +Houghton, up and around. Do you wish to break down also?" + +"You forget, doctor, that I had some sleep last night. Feel my pulse." + +"Slightly febrile, but then I know what's the matter with _you_. If I were +not so old and bald-headed I'd cut out a slow coach like you. I'm half a +mind to try it as it is." + +"Go ahead, doctor. You'll be only one more. How many are there now, do you +suppose?" + +"I know how many there should be after what I've seen. But bah! you +Northern young chaps lay siege to a girl at such long range that she +surrenders to some other fellow before you find it out." + +"Would you have me call her now, shake her awake, and propose?" asked +George, irritably. + +"No, I'd have you fight shy and give me a chance. There, you are too far +gone for a jest. What are you up for?" + +"Because I'm not sleepy, for one thing, and I think some one should be on +guard. What's more, I don't like the way those negroes are performing. +They seem to be going wild." + +"Yes, and they are doing a lot of harm to the sick and feeble. If they +don't stop at midnight I'll find out whether there's any law in this city. +I say, Houghton, since you are going to sit up, give Clancy this medicine +every half hour, and call me at twelve." He then wrapped himself in a +blanket and was asleep in a minute. + +If George had been wide awake before, the doctor's raillery so increased +his impatience and worry that for a time he paced up and down before the +fire. Was he faint-hearted in wooing Ella? Suppose some bold Southerner +should forestall him? The thought was torture; yet it seemed ungenerous +and unkind to seek her openly while she was in a sense his guest and +dependent upon him. "Well," he growled at last, "I won't do it. When she +first spoke to me she said I was a gentleman, and I'll be hanged if I +don't remain one and take my chances." + +He threw himself down again by the fire with his back to the awning. +Before very long he heard a light step. Turning hastily he saw Ella's +startled face by the light of the fire. + +"Oh, Mr. Houghton! is it you? Pardon me for disturbing you," and she was +about to retreat. + +He was on his feet instantly and said, "You will only disturb me by going +away, that is--I mean if you are not tired and sleepy." + +"There is such a dreadful noise I can't sleep any more," she replied, +hesitating a moment. + +"Suppose--you might help me watch a little while then," he stammered. + +"I'll watch if you will rest." + +"Certainly;" and he brought her a chair and then reclined near her feet. + +"But I meant that you should sleep." + +"I only promised to rest." + +"But you need sleep if any one does. I've had a good nap and feel much +better. How late is it?" + +"Nearly eleven, and time for Clancy's medicine." When he returned he told +her about Clancy. + +"Poor fellow!" she said, sympathetically, + +"Clancy seems to have trouble on his mind. We all have enough, but he more +than his share." + +"I should think you would be worried out of your senses with so many +people to think about and care for. No wonder you can't sleep." + +"Thoughts of _people_ do not keep me awake, and I am glad to say my +father's resting quietly. He and your father are born soldiers." + +"Your father's to blame for my making a fool of myself at the +supper-table. He spoke so kindly and sympathetically, and I was so tired +and silly that I couldn't stand anything. Then you looked reproachfully at +me because I couldn't eat all you sent--enough to make Uncle Sheba ill." + +"Now, Miss Bodine, I didn't look at you reproachfully." + +"Who's that snoring over there?" + +"Dr. Devoe. My facial muscles must have been shaken out of shape to have +given you so false an impression. Anyhow, I seem to have driven you away, +and I've been miserable ever since." + +"Why, Mr. Houghton! The idea of letting a tired girl's weakness disturb +you! You will soon be as ill as Mr. Clancy." + +"I'm only stating a fact." + +"Well, facts are very queer nowadays. I suppose we shouldn't be surprised +at anything." + +"Yet you are a continual surprise to me, Miss Bodine. Do you think I've +forgotten anything since you carried Mrs. Bodine out of her tottering +house?" + +"Oh, Mr. Houghton! my memory goes further back than that. I can see a tall +man leap into a sinking boat and--and--oh, why did you sink with it? My +father's agony over the thought that you had died for him turned his hair +white." + +"I couldn't help sinking, Miss Bodine. If it hadn't been for that blasted +pole--Well, perhaps it saved all our lives, for my boat was overloaded as +it was. But don't think about that affair. It might have turned out +worse." + +"It might indeed. If you knew how we all felt when we thought you were +drowned!" + +"Well, I thank God that I happened to be near." + +"Happened! You seemed to have a presentiment of evil, and kept near." + +"I was facing a certainty of evil then, Miss Bodine. I expected to go +North in a few days, and feared I might not see you again. There, I +shouldn't speak so now. My memory goes back further than yours. I remember +a blue-eyed stranger who drew near to me when I was facing a street bully, +as if she meditated becoming my protector. I saw a noble woman's soul in +those clear eyes, and she said 'I was a gentleman.' I must remember her +words now with might and main. All that I ask is that you won't let any +one else--that you will give me a chance when in your own home. Your +father has--" + +"Mr. Houghton, is it not time for Mr. Clancy's medicine?" + +"Yes, and past time," he replied, ruefully. + +When he returned she said demurely, "I think I can promise what you ask. +Now surely, since your mind is at rest, you can sleep. I will watch." + +"I'm too happy to sleep." + +"How absurd!" + +"Oh, the shock this morning did not disturb me half so much as to see +those fellows around with their devouring eyes." + +"Mr. Houghton, don't you think that if we asked them, those colored people +would be less loud? It must be dreadful for those who are sick, and there +are so many." + +"They will be brutal indeed if they don't yield to you," and he led the +way to the nearest centre of disturbance. + +"Oh, see! Mr. Houghton, there's our old Hannah." + +He saw an old woman swaying back and forth, her lips moving spasmodically, +but uttering no sound. The crowd watched her in a sort of breathless +suspense. Suddenly she burst out with the hymn, "Oh, Raslin' Jacob! let me +go," and the throng joined in the mighty refrain. The women swayed to and +fro violently, all going together in a sort of rhythmic motion, meantime +clapping their hands in an ecstasy of emotion. A man dropped to the earth +"converted." He yelled rather than prayed for mercy, then suddenly swooned +and became rigid as a corpse. Others, both men and women, were prostrated +also; and to bring as many as possible into this helpless condition +appeared to be the general object as far as any purpose was manifested. +The crowd seemed to regard poor, demented Hannah as inspired, for a space +was kept clear before her. When she began to sway in her weird fashion, +and her face to twitch, she was the priestess and the oracle. The hymn she +began was taken up first by two self-appointed exhorters, then by all. + +"Oh, Hannah!" cried Ella, when her voice could be heard, "do stop and come +away. You are harming the sick and the injured." + +The old woman started, and on seeing the girl rushed forward, crying, +"Down on you knees. Now you chance. Pray, bruders, pray, sistahs. De +quakes neber stop till a white man or woman converted--converted till dere +proud heads in de bery dus'"--and she sought to force Ella on her knees. + +In a moment Ella was surrounded by the worshippers, whose groans, shouts, +prayers and ejaculations created Pandemonium. The girl was terrified, but +George encircled her with his arm, and thundered, "Give way. I'll brain +the first man who stops us." + +Awed for an instant they yielded to George's vigorous push out and away, +and then returned to their former wild indulgence of religious frenzy. + +For several paces after their escape he seemed to forget that his arm was +still around Ella, nor did she remind him. Suddenly he removed it, saying, +"Pardon me, Miss Bodine, I am that enraged with those lunatics that I'd +like to give them something to howl about." + +"Please be calm, Mr. Houghton," said Ella gently. "I'm not afraid now, and +should not have been afraid at all. I know these people better than you +do. They wouldn't have harmed us, and I fear they don't know any better. +It's only their looks, tones, and words that seem blasphemous, that are +frightful. It was I who took you there and I should have known better." + +"Oh, Ella!--beg pardon--Miss Bodine, what a savage a man would be if you +couldn't manage him!" + +"Then promise you won't go near those people any more." + +"You are too brave a girl to ask that when you learn that Dr. Devoe is +going to tackle them with the police if they don't quiet down by +midnight." + +They spoke in low tones as he again held her hand, while they picked their +way among the extemporized shelters and uneasy refugees in the square. As +they approached their own quarters she faltered, "I'm not very brave +tonight, and I have long since learned that you are only too brave." + +He paused, still retaining her hand as he said, "What a strange scene this +is! How wild and unearthly those sounds now seem! How odd it all is--our +homes yonder deserted and we here under the stars. It's stranger than any +dream I ever had, yet if it were a dream I would not wish to wake with +you--" + +"Mr. Houghton, what's that, that, _that?_" + +Far oft in the southeast there were sounds like faint explosions which +grew rapidly louder. Instinctively he drew her nearer, and saw her face +grow white even in the faint radiance of the stars. + +"Oh!" she gasped shuddering as the deep roar of the coming earthquake +began. Then his arm drew her close, and she hid her face on his breast. + +"Ella," he said solemnly, "I love you, God knows if these words were my +last I would still say I love you." + +The mighty roar gradually deepened, and with it blended the cry of +thousands; the earth quivered and swayed, then the thunder passed on, +accompanied by sounds like the distant crash of falling buildings. + +George kissed the bowed head and whispered, "There, it's over and we are +safe." + +"Oh, thank God! you were with me!" she sobbed. + +"May I not be with you always, Ella?" + +"God grant it! Oh, George, George, I would have leaped after you into the +water if they had not held me. How could I do without you now?" + +"Come, my brave little wife, come with me to my father and reassure him." + +"George," cried Mr. Houghton. + +"We are here," he answered, drawing aside the screen. + +"We?" + +"Yes, Ella and I. That last shock has rather hastened matters." + +"Ella, my dear child! Truly God is bringing good out of evil;" and he took +the girl into his arms. Then he added, "You'll forgive me and be my own +dear daughter?" + +"Yes, Mr. Houghton. You'll find I am rich in love if nothing else." + +"Ah! Ella dear, the world seems going to pieces, and my wealth with it, +but love only grows more real and more precious." + +"My father's calling me;" and kissing him a hasty good-by she vanished. + +Miss Ainsley again ran shrieking out, calling upon Clancy, but Dr. Devoe +met her and drew her away from his muttering, half-conscious patient. When +she became sufficiently quiet he told her that Clancy was dangerously ill, +and that nothing must be said or done to excite him. This seemed to her +only another proof of general disaster, and, in almost abject tones, she +begged, "Oh, doctor, make me sleep till--my father will surely come +to-morrow, and then I can get away." + +Her entreaty was so loud that even Mara could not help hearing her. The +physician rather contemptuously thought that it would be better for all if +she were quiet, and gave the anodyne. So far from feeling sympathy for +Clancy she was almost vindictive toward him for having failed her. + +Fear, uncontrolled, becomes one of the most debasing of the emotions. It +can lead to panic even among soldiers with arms in their hands; sailors +will trample on women and children in their blind rush for the boats; men +will even deny their convictions, their faith, and cringe to brutal power; +crimes the most vile are committed from fear, and fear had virtually +obliterated womanhood in Miss Ainsley's soul. She was in a mood to accept +any conditions for the assurance of safety, and she gave not a thought to +any one or anything that offered no help. With the roar of the earthquake +still in her ears, and in the dark midnight she knew there was no help, no +way of escape, and so with the impulse of the shipwrecked who break into +the spirit room she besought the opiate which could at least bring +oblivion. Her eyes, which could be so beautiful, had the wild, hunted look +of an animal, and her form, usually grace itself, writhed into +distortions. Her demoralization under the long-continued terror was +complete, and all were glad when she became unconscious and could be +hidden from sight. As Aun' Sheba made her way to her own household she +grunted, "A lun'tic out ob a 'sylem wouldn' mar'y dat gal if he seed wot I +seed." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII + +GOOD BROUGHT OUT OF EVIL + + +There were brave spirits and Heaven-sustained souls in the little camp +which falls under our immediate observation; and outward calm was soon +restored, yet it was long before any one could sleep again. Although she +had trembled like a leaf, Mara had not left her watch by Mrs. Hunter, nor +had Aun' Sheba till some moments after the shock. Then Mrs. Bodine joined +the girl with soothing and reassuring words. She did not tell Mara, +however, of Clancy's illness, feeling that no additional burden should be +imposed until it was necessary. Mr. and Mrs. Willoughby sat together by +the fire; so also did Ella, with her head upon her father's breast, as she +told of the great joy which robbed the night of so much of its terror. Old +Tobe, with Sam and Jube, crouched on the opposite side of the low, +flickering blaze, which lighted up in odd effect the white wool and +wrinkled visage of the aged negro. In some respects he and Mr. Houghton +were alike. The scenes they were passing through toned down their fiery +domineering spirits into resignation and fortitude. + +George was restless, strong and inspired rather than awed by the recent +events. He knew that Ella's eyes followed him as he came and went from his +father's bedside, waited on Clancy, and made himself useful in other ways. +A man would be craven indeed who could not be brave under such +circumstances. + +Beyond his camp, scenes impossible to describe were taking place. White +clergymen were going from group to group, and from shelter to shelter, +speaking words of cheer and hope. Physicians were busy among those who +needed physical aid; husbands soothing wives, and parents their sobbing +children. + +On the edge of the square near the street the groans and cries of a woman +began to draw the restless people who always run to any point of +disturbance. + +"George," shouted Dr. Devoe. The young man responded promptly. "Keep this +crowd away--the vulgar wretches!" + +A woman of refinement and wealth, who with her husband had clung to their +adjacent home until the last shock occurred, was in the throes of +childbirth. + +No one could stand a moment before the young man's words and aspect, and +in a few moments he secured all the privacy possible. + +Eventually he bore the almost swooning mother to the inner room under the +awning, where a bed had been made for her, while Mrs. Bodine and Mrs. +Willoughby cared for the child. The husband was so prostrated by anxiety +for his wife as to be almost helpless himself. + +Among a certain class of the negroes, to religious excitement was added +the wild terror of the earthquake, and they were simply becoming frantic +in their actions and expressions. George, Dr. Devoe, Mr. Willoughby and +some others went to the large group of which old Hannah and two great +burly exhorters were the inspiration. They commanded and implored them to +be more quiet, but received only insolent replies. + +"We'se savin' de city which de wickedness ob you white folks is +'stroyin'," one of the shepherds shouted; "an' we'se gwine to cry loud and +mighty till mawnin'." + +At this moment, George espied Uncle Sheba, who certainly appeared, in the +general craze, to have a sense of his besetting sin; for he was yelling at +the top of his lungs, "I'se gwine ter wuck in de mawnin'." + +Suddenly there burst through the crowd an apparition before which he +quailed; his jaw dropped and his howl degenerated into a groan. Aun' Sheba +had heard and recognized his voice, and she went through the throng like a +puffing tug through driftwood. "Mister Buggone," she said, with the +sternness of fate, "ef yer doan stop yer noise you'se 'lowance stop heah +and now. Yer'll hab ter wuck shuah or starbe, fer if yer doan come wid me +now yer neber come agin." + +Uncle Sheba went away with her, meek as a lamb. + +The others were too frenzied even to notice this little scene. George, Mr. +Willoughby, and some others were with difficulty restrained by the cooler +Dr. Devoe. "Go with me to the station-house," he said. "In behalf of my +patients I will demand that this nuisance be abated." + +The officer on duty returned with them, backed by a resolute body of men. +The two exhorters were told to take their choice between silence and the +station-house. There is usually a good deal of selfish method in such +leaders' madness, and they sullenly retired. Poor, demented Hannah was +bundled away, and comparative quiet restored through the square. + +The weary hours dragged on; the uneasy earth caused no further alarms that +night. At last the dawn was again greeted with thankfulness beyond words. + +There was no paper that morning, for compositors and pressmen could not be +induced to work, and at first there was a feeling of great uncertainty and +depression. + +Mrs. Bodine's spirit was again like a cork on the surface. At breakfast +she remarked, "We had an awful time last night, but here we are still +alive, and able to take some nourishment. I expect the Northern papers +will say that this wicked and rebellious old city is getting its deserts; +but we shall soon have help and cheer from our Southern friends." + +"I think you will find yourself mistaken, Mrs. Bodine, about the North," +said George. + +"Oh. you!" cried the old lady, laughing, "you look at the South through a +pair of blue eyes. I reckon we shall have to send you and Ella North as +missionaries." + +George in his pride and happiness could not keep his secret, and had been +congratulated with honest heartiness. He therefore responded gayly, "When +I take Ella North even earthquakes won't keep young fellows from coming +here to see if any more like her are left." + +Again Ella remarked, nodding significantly, "Time will cure him, Cousin +Sophy." + +Nevertheless the illness of Mrs. Hunter and Clancy, and the precarious +condition of the young mother, cast a gloom over the little party. +Clancy's pulse indicated great exhaustion, and he only recognized people +when he was spoken to. Dr. Devoe prohibited any one from going near him +except himself and George. Miss Ainsley uttered no protest at this. She +truly felt that after the events of the night all was over between them. +In a sort of sullen shame she said little and longed only for the hour +which would bring her father and escape. + +Mr. Ainsley arrived during the morning, and George entertained him +hospitably. His daughter clung to him, imploring him to take her away at +the first possible moment. He was much distressed at Clancy's condition, +and offered to take him North also; but Dr. Devoe said authoritatively, +"He is too ill to be moved or even spoken to." Mrs. Willoughby and her +husband were determined that Miss Ainsley should not give her father a +false impression, and spoke freely of Clancy's great exertions. "Yes," +added Dr. Devoe, "I feel guilty myself. He should have been taken in hand +yesterday afternoon and compelled to be quiet in mind and body, but I had +so many to look after, and he seemed the embodiment of energy and +fearlessness. Well, it's too late now, and we must do the best we can for +him." + +That day Mr. Ainsley and his daughter left the city. She gave vivid +descriptions of the catastrophe at the North, but her friends remarked +upon her fine reserve and modesty in speaking of her personal experiences. +Her faultless veneer was soon restored, and we suppose she is pursuing her +career of getting the most and best out of life after a fashion which has +too many imitators. + +Poor Mara's name was significant of her experience of that day and others +which followed. In the morning she learned of Clancy's illness, and it was +eventually found that her voice and touch had a soothing effect possessed +by no other. + +We have followed our characters through the climax of their experiences, +and need only to suggest what further happened. They, with others, +realized more fully the conditions of their lot and the extent of the +disaster. + +With an ever-increasing courage and fortitude the people faced the +situation, and resolved to build anew the fortunes of their city. +Communication with the outside world permitted messages of sympathy and +far more. In the Sunday morning issue of the "News and Courier" the +following significant editorial appeared: "There is no break in the broad +line of brotherly love throughout the United States. All hearts in this +mighty country throb in unison. In the North as in the South, in the West +as in the East, there is a sincere sorrow at the calamity which has +befallen Charleston, and there is shining evidence of a beneficent desire +to give the suffering people the assistance of both act and word." + +Boston, the former headquarters of the abolitionists, and the veterans of +the Grand Army vied with Southern cities and ex-Confederates in a +spontaneous outpouring of sympathy and help. The hearts of a proud people +were at last subdued, but it was by hands stretched out in fraternal love +and not to strike. + +In the city squares and other places of refuge there still continued sad +and awful experiences, one of which was graphically described by the city +editor of the journal already quoted. + +At nearly midnight on Friday there had been a cessation in the shocks for +about twenty-four hours, and the people were resting quietly. Then came a +convulsion second only in severity to the first one which had wrought such +widespread ruin. "It had scarcely died away," to quote from the account +referred to, "before there rose through the still night air in the +direction of the public squares and parks the now familiar but still +terrible cries of thousands of wailing voices, united in one vast chorus, +expressive only of the utmost human misery. For a while this sound was +heard above all other sounds, suggesting vividly to the mind what has been +told by survivors of the scene that follows the sinking of a great ship at +sea, when its living freight is left struggling with the waves; and this +impression was heightened to the distant auditor by the gradual diminution +in the volume of the cries, as though voice after voice were being +silenced, as life after life were quenched beneath the tossing waves." + +Dr. Devoe advised Mr. Houghton to leave the city, but he said, "No, I +shall remain with my children; I shall share in the fortunes of the city +which is henceforth to be my home." + +Mrs. Hunter did not long survive, but she became quiet and rational before +her end. To Mara's imploring words she replied calmly, "No, my time is +near; and I feel that it is best. I belong to the old order of things, and +have lingered too long already. I may have been mistaken in my feelings, +and wrong in my enmities, but I had great provocation. Now I forgive as I +hope to be forgiven. God grant, dear child, that you may have brighter +days." + +A sad little company followed her to the cemetery, and as they laid her to +rest, they also spread over her memory the mantle of a broad, loving +charity. + +For a time it seemed as if brighter days could never come to Mara, for +Clancy's life flickered like the light of an expiring candle. At last the +fever broke and he became rational, the pure, open air conducing to his +recovery. He was very weak and his convalescence was slow, measuring the +mental and physical strain through which he had passed. Never had a poor +mortal more faithful watchers, never was life wooed back from the dark +shore by more devoted love. "Live, live," was ever the language of Mara's +eyes, and happiness gave him the power to live. + +Captain Bodine carried out both the letter and spirit of his note. While +he was very gentle, he was also very firm with Mara, expressing only +paternal affection and also exerting paternal authority. At proper times +he told her to go and rest in tones which she obeyed. + +One day when Clancy was able to sit up a little, he took her aside and +said, "Mara, you and Mr. Clancy are in one sense comparatively alone in +the world, although you have many stanch friends. His health, almost his +life, requires the faithful, watchful care which you can best give, and +which you are entitled to give. It is his wish and mine, also Cousin +Sophy's, that you should be married at once." + +Again she gave him that luminous look which he so well remembered--an +expression so full of homage, affection and sympathy that for the first +time tears came into his eyes. "There, my child," he said, "you have +repaid me, you have compensated me for everything. There is no need of +words"--and he turned hastily away. + +When the sun was near the horizon Mara was married, not in old St. +Michael's, as her mother had been, but in the large tent which of late had +sheltered her lover. Her pastor employed the old sacred words to which her +mother had responded; and Captain Bodine, with the impress of calm, +victorious manhood on his brow, gave her away in the presence of the +little group of those who knew her best and loved her most. We may well +believe from that time forth her gentleness and happiness would change the +meaning of her name. + +At last all ventured back to their homes. Mr. Houghton was so averse to +parting with Ella that he equalled George in his impatience for the +marriage. Aun' Sheba, who supervised preparations for the wedding +breakfast, declared, "It am jes jolly ter see old Marse Houghton. As fer +Missus Bodine, it pears as if she'd go off de han'l." + +Then father and son took the blue-eyed bride to the North on a visit, in +what George characterized as a "sort of triumphal procession." + +The cabins of Aun' Sheba and Kern Watson were restored to a condition +better than their former state, but Uncle Sheba discovered that the good +old times of his wife's easy tolerance were gone. She put the case +plainly, "Mr. Buggone, de Bible says dat dem dat doesn't wuck mus'n't eat, +an' I'se gwine ter stick ter de Bible troo tick an' tin. You'se able to +wuck as I be, an' you'se 'lowance now 'pends on you'se wuck." + +We have already seen that Uncle Sheba was one of those philosophers who +always submit to the inevitable. + +Late one September night the moonbeams shone under the moss-draped +branches of a live oak in a cemetery. They brought out in snowy whiteness +a small headstone on which were engraved the words, "Yes, Vilet." Sitting +by the grave and leaning his head against the stone was Kern Watson, but +his calm, strong face was turned heavenward where his little girl waited +for him "shuah." + +THE END + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Earth Trembled, by E. P. Roe + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EARTH TREMBLED *** + +***** This file should be named 6719.txt or 6719.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/7/1/6719/ + +Produced by Carel Lyn Miske, Charles Franks and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |