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- page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 50%; /* div no wider than 1/2 screen, even when screen is narrow */ -} - -.figleft { - float: left; - clear: left; - margin-left: 0; - margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-right: 1em; - padding: 0; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 35%; -} - -/* comment out next line and uncomment the following one for floating figleft on ebookmaker output */ -/* .x-ebookmaker .figleft {float: none; text-align: center; margin-right: 0;} */ -.x-ebookmaker .figleft {float: left;} - -.figright { - float: right; - clear: right; - margin-left: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-right: 0; - padding: 0; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 35%; -} - -/* comment out next line and uncomment the following one for floating figright on ebookmaker output */ -/* .x-ebookmaker .figright {float: none; text-align: center; margin-left: 0;} */ -.x-ebookmaker .figright {float: right;} - -/* Poetry */ -.poetry { - display: block; - text-align: left; - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} - -.poetry .verse { - padding-left: 3em; - text-indent: -3em; -} - -/* Poetry indents */ -.poetry .indent0 {padding-left: 3em;} -.poetry .indent1 {padding-left: 3.5em;} -.poetry .indent2 {padding-left: 4em;} -.poetry .indent3 {padding-left: 4.5em;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.tnote { - background-color: #E6E6FA; - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - padding: .5em; -} - -.tntitle { - font-size: 1.25em; - font-weight: bold; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -/* Title page borders and content. */ -.title { - font-size: 1.75em; - font-weight: bold; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -.halftitle { - font-size: 1.5em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -.subtitle { - font-size: 1.5em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -.author { - font-size: 1.25em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -.works { - font-size: .75em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -/* Advertisement formatting. */ -.adauthor { - font-size: 1.25em; - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -/* Hanging indent. */ -.hang { - text-indent: -2em; - padding-left: 3em; -} - - </style> -</head> - -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Holly, by Ralph Henry Barbour</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Holly</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>The Romance of a Southern Girl</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Ralph Henry Barbour</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Edwin F. Bayha</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 31, 2023 [eBook #69920]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Donald Cummings and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOLLY ***</div> - - -<div class="figcenter" id="cover_sm"> - <img src="images/cover_sm.jpg" alt="cover" title="cover"> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="noi halftitle">HOLLY</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter" id="i_frontis"> - <img src="images/i_frontis.jpg" alt="" title=""> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noic"><a href="#Page_76">HOLLY PLACED HER HAND IN HIS AND LEAPED LIGHTLY TO THE GROUND</a></p> - </div> -</div> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter" id="title_pg"> - <img src="images/title_pg.jpg" alt="title page" title="title page"> -</div> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h1 class="nobreak">HOLLY</h1> - -<p class="noi subtitle"><i>The Romance of a Southern Girl</i></p> - -<p class="p2 noic">BY</p> - -<p class="noi author">RALPH HENRY BARBOUR</p> - -<p class="noi works">AUTHOR OF “A MAID IN ARCADY,” “KITTY<br> -OF THE ROSES,” “AN ORCHARD<br> -PRINCESS,” ETC.</p> - -<p class="p2 noic"><i>With illustrations by</i></p> - -<p class="noic">EDWIN F. BAYHA</p> - -<div class="pad2"> -<div class="figcenter" id="logo"> - <img class="illowe6" src="images/logo.jpg" alt="logo" title="logo"> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noi adauthor">PHILADELPHIA & LONDON<br> -J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY<br> -1907</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="noic"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1907<br> -By The Curtis Publishing Company</span></p> - -<p class="p2 noic"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1907<br> -By J. B. Lippincott Company</span></p> - -<p class="p4 noic">Published October, 1907</p> - -<p class="p6 noic"><i>Electrotyped and Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company<br> -The Washington Square Press, Philadelphia, U. S. A.</i></p> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="noic">TO</p> - -<p class="noi author">JESSIE LATSHAW KING</p> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">LIST OF CHAPTERS</h2> -</div> - - -<p class="noic"><a href="#I">I</a><br> -<a href="#II">II</a><br> -<a href="#III">III</a><br> -<a href="#IV">IV</a><br> -<a href="#V">V</a><br> -<a href="#VI">VI</a><br> -<a href="#VII">VII</a><br> -<a href="#VIII">VIII</a><br> -<a href="#IX">IX</a><br> -<a href="#X">X</a><br> -<a href="#XI">XI</a><br> -<a href="#XII">XII</a><br> -<a href="#XIII">XIII</a><br> -<a href="#XIV">XIV</a></p> - - - - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="ILLUSTRATIONS">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> -</div> - - -<table> -<colgroup> - <col style="width: 85%;"> - <col style="width: 10%;"> -</colgroup> -<tr> - <th> </th> - <th class="smfontr">PAGE</th> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_frontis"><span class="smcap">Holly Placed Her Hand -in His and Leaped Lightly to the -Ground </span></a>      <span class="flright"> <i>Frontispiece</i></span></td> - <td class="tdrb"> </td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_fp144"><span class="smcap">Presently the New Rental -Agreement was Signed</span></a></td> - <td class="tdrb">144</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_fp216"><span class="smcap">The Major Held the Little -Bunch of Leaves and Berries over Holly’s Head</span></a></td> - <td class="tdrb">217</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="tdl hang"><a href="#i_fp258">“<span class="smcap">Keep Away! You’ve Killed -Him</span>”</a></td> - <td class="tdrb">258</td> -</tr> -</table> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span></p> - -<p class="noi title" id="HOLLY">HOLLY</p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="I">I.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>Holly’s eighteenth birthday was but a -fortnight distant when the quiet stream of -her life, which since her father’s death six -years before had flowed placidly, with but -few events to ripple its tranquil surface, -was suddenly disturbed....</p> - -<p>To the child of twelve years death, because -of its unfamiliarity and mystery, is -peculiarly terrible. At that age one has become -too wise to find comfort in the vague -and beautiful explanations of tearfully-smiling -relatives—explanations in which -Heaven is pictured as a material region -just out of sight beyond the zenith; too selfishly -engrossed with one’s own loneliness -and terror to be pacified by the contemplation -of the radiant peace and beatitude attained -by the departed one in that ethereal<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span> -and invisible suburb. And at twelve one is -as yet too lacking in wisdom to realize the -beneficence of death.</p> - -<p>Thus it was that when Captain Lamar -Wayne died at Waynewood, in his fiftieth -year, Holly, left quite alone in a suddenly -empty world save for her father’s sister, -Miss India Wayne, grieved passionately -and rebelliously, giving way so abjectly to -her sorrow that Aunt India, fearing -gravely for her health, summoned the family -physician.</p> - -<div class="figcenter2" id="i_p011"> - <img src="images/i_p011.jpg" alt="Holly" title="Holly"> -</div> - -<p>“There is nothing physically wrong with -her,” pronounced the Old Doctor, “nothing -that I can remedy with my poisons. -You must get her mind away from her sorrow, -my dear Miss India. I would suggest -that you take her away for a time; -give her new scenes; interest her in new -affairs. Meanwhile ... there is no harm....” -The Old Doctor wrote a prescription -with his trembling hand ... “a -simple tonic ... nothing more.”</p> - -<p>So Aunt India and Holly went away. At -first the thought of deserting the new grave<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span> -in the little burying-ground within sight of -the house moved Holly to a renewed madness -of grief. But by the time Uncle Randall -had put their trunk and bags into the -old carriage interest in the journey had -begun to assuage Holly’s sorrow. It was -her first journey into the world. Save for -visits to neighboring plantations and one -memorable trip to Tallahassee while her -father had served in the State Legislature, -she had never been away from Corunna. -And now she was actually going into another -State! And not merely to Georgia, -which would have been a comparatively -small event since the Georgia line ran east<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span> -and west only a bare half-dozen miles up -the Valdosta road, but away up to Kentucky, -of which, since the Waynes had come -from there in the first part of the century, -Holly had heard much all her life.</p> - -<p>As the carriage moved down the circling -road Holly watched with trembling lips the -little brick-walled enclosure on the knoll. -Then came a sudden gush of tears and convulsive -sobs, and when these had passed -they were under the live-oaks at the -depot, and the train of two cars and a rickety, -asthmatic engine, which ran over the -six-mile branch to the main line, was posing -importantly in front of the weather-beaten -station.</p> - -<p>Holly’s pulses stirred with excitement, -and when, a quarter of an hour later,—for -Aunt India believed in being on time,—she -kissed Uncle Ran good-bye, her eyes were -quite dry.</p> - -<p>That visit had lasted nearly three -months, and for awhile Holly had been surfeited -with new sights and new experiences -against which no grief, no matter how poignant,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span> -could have been wholly proof. When, -on her return to Waynewood, she paid her -first visit to her father’s grave, the former -ecstasy of grief was absent. In its place -was a tender, dim-eyed melancholy, something -exaltedly sacred and almost sweet, -a sentiment to be treasured and nourished -in reverent devotion. And yet I think it -was not so much the journey that accomplished -this end as it was a realization -which came to her during the first month -of the visit.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p013"> - <img src="images/i_p013.jpg" alt="father's grave" title="father's grave"> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span></p> - -<p>In her first attempts at comforting the -child, and many times since, Aunt India -had reminded Holly that now that her -father had reached Heaven he and her -mother were together once more, and that -since they had loved each other very dearly -on earth they were beyond doubt very -happy in Paradise. Aunt India assured -her that it was a beautiful thought. But it -had never impressed Holly as Miss India -thought it should. Possibly she was too -self-absorbed in her sorrow to consider it -judicially. But one night she had a dream -from which she awoke murmuring happily -in the darkness. She could not remember -very clearly what she had dreamed, although -she strove hard to do so. But she -knew that it was a beautiful dream, a dream -in which her father and her mother,—the -wonderful mother of whom she had no -recollection,—had appeared to her hand in -hand and had spoken loving, comforting -words. For the first time she realized Aunt -India’s meaning; realized how very, very -happy her father and mother must be together<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span> -in Heaven, and how silly and selfish -she had been to wish him back. All in the -instant there, in the dim silence, the dull -ache of loneliness which had oppressed her -for months disappeared. She no longer -seemed alone; somewhere,—near at hand,—was -sympathy and love and heart-filling -comradeship. Holly lay for awhile very -quiet and happy in the great four-poster -bed, and stared into the darkness with -wide eyes that swam in grateful tears. -Then she fell into a sound, calm sleep.</p> - -<p>She did not tell Aunt India of her dream; -not because there was any lack of sympathy -between them, but because to have shared -it would have robbed it of half its dearness. -For a long, long time it was the most -precious of her possessions, and she hugged -it to her and smiled over it as a mother over -her child. And so I think it was the dream -that accomplished what the Old Doctor -could not,—the dream that brought, as -dreams so often do, Heaven very close to -earth. Dreams are blessed things, be they -day-dreams or dreams of the night; and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span> -even the ugly ones are beneficent, since at -waking they make by contrast reality more -endurable.</p> - -<p>If Aunt India never learned the cause -she was at least quick to note the result. -Holly’s thin little cheeks borrowed tints -from the Duchess roses in the garden, and -Aunt India graciously gave the credit to -Kentucky air, even as she drew her white -silk shawl more closely about her slender -shoulders and shivered in the unaccustomed -chill of a Kentucky autumn.</p> - -<p>Then followed six tranquil years in which -Holly grew from a small, long-legged, angular -child to a very charming maiden of -eighteen, dainty with the fragrant daintiness -of a southern rosebud; small of stature, -as her mother had been before her, yet -possessed of a gracious dignity that added -mythical inches to her height; no longer -angular but gracefully symmetrical with -the soft curves of womanhood; with a fair -skin like the inner petal of a La France -rose; with eyes warmly, deeply brown, -darkened by large irises; a low, broad forehead<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span> -under a wealth of hair just failing of -being black; a small, mobile mouth, with -lips as freshly red as the blossoms of the -pomegranate tree in the corner of the yard, -and little firm hands and little arched feet -as true to beauty as the needle to the pole. -God sometimes fashions a perfect body, -and when He does can any praise be too -extravagant?</p> - -<p>For the rest, Holly Wayne at eighteen—or, -to be exact, a fortnight before—was -perhaps as contradictory as most girls -of her age. Warm-hearted and tender, she -could be tyrannical if she chose; dignified -at times, there were moments when she -became a breath-taking madcap of a girl,—moments -of which Aunt India strongly but -patiently disapproved; affectionate and -generous, she was capable of showing a -very pretty temper which, like mingled -flash of lightning and roar of thunder, was -severe but brief; tractable, she was not -pliant, and from her father she had inherited -settled convictions on certain subjects, -such for instance as Secession and Emancipation,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span> -and an accompanying dash of contumacy -for the protection of them.</p> - -<p>She was fond of books, and had read -every sombre-covered volume of the British -Poets from fly-leaf to fly-leaf. She preferred -poetry to prose, but when the first -was wanting she put up cheerfully with the -latter. The contents of her father’s modest -library had been devoured with a fine catholicity -before she was sixteen. Recent books -were few at Corunna, and had Holly been -asked to name her favorite volume of fiction -she would have been forced to divide -the honor between certain volumes of The -Spectator, St. Elmo, and The Wide, Wide -World. She was intensely fond of being -out of doors; even in her crawling days her -negro mammy had found it a difficult task -to keep her within walls; and so her reading -had ever been <i lang="es">al fresco</i>. Her favorite -place was under the gnarled old fig-tree at -the end of the porch, where, perched in a -comfortable crotch of trunk and branch, or -asway in a hammock, she spent many of -her waking hours. When the weather kept<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span> -her indoors, she never thought of books at -all. Those stood with her for filtered sunlight, -green-leaf shadows, and the perfume-laden -breezes.</p> - -<p>Her education, begun lovingly and -sternly by her father, had ended with a -four-years’ course at a neighboring Academy, -supplying her with as much knowledge -as Captain Wayne would have considered -proper for her. He had held to old-fashioned -ideas in such matters, and had -considered the ability to quote aptly from -Pope or Dryden of more appropriate value -to a young woman than a knowledge of -Herbert Spencer’s absurdities or a bowing -acquaintance with Differential Calculus. -So Holly graduated very proudly from the -Academy, looking her sweetest in white -muslin and lavender ribbons, and was quite, -quite satisfied with her erudition and contentedly -ignorant of many of the things -that fit into that puzzle which we are -pleased to call Life.</p> - -<p>And now, in the first week of November -in the year 1898, the tranquil stream of her<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span> -existence was about to be disturbed. Although -she could have no knowledge of it, -as yet, Fate was already poising the stone -which, once dropped into that stream, was -destined to cause disquieting ripples, perplexing -eddies, distracting swirls and, in -the end, the formation of a new channel. -And even now the messenger of Fate was -limping along with the aid of his stout cane, -coming nearer and nearer down the road -from the village under the shade of the water-oaks, -a limp and a tap for every beat -of Holly’s unsuspecting heart.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="II">II.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>Holly sat on the back porch, her slippered -feet on the topmost step of the flight -leading to the “bridge” and from thence to -the yard. She wore a simple white dress -and dangled a blue-and-white-checked sun-bonnet -from the fingers of her right hand. -Her left hand was very pleasantly occupied, -since its pink palm cradled Holly’s -chin. Above the chin Holly’s lips were -softly parted, disclosing the tips of three -tiny white teeth; above the mouth, Holly’s -eyes gazed abstractedly away over the -roofs of the buildings in the yard and the -cabins behind them, over the tops of the -Le Conte pear-trees in the back lot, over -the fringe of pines beyond, to where, like a -black speck, a buzzard circled and dropped -and circled again above a distant hill. I -doubt if Holly saw the buzzard. I doubt -if she saw anything that you or I could<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span> -have seen from where she sat. I really -don’t know what she did see, for Holly was -day-dreaming, an occupation to which she -had become somewhat addicted during the -last few months.</p> - -<p>The mid-morning sunlight shone warmly -on the back of the house. Across the bridge, -in the kitchen, Aunt Venus was moving -slowly about in the preparation of dinner, -singing a revival hymn in a clear, sweet -falsetto:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“Lord Gawd of Israel,</div> - <div class="verse indent1">Lord Gawd of Israel,</div> - <div class="verse indent1">Lord Gawd of Israel,</div> - <div class="verse indent3">I’s gwan to meet you soon!”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>To the right, in front of the disused office, -a half-naked morsel of light brown humanity -was seated in the dirt at the foot -of the big sycamore, crooning a funny little -accompaniment to his mother’s song, the -while he munched happily at a baked sweet -potato and played a wonderful game with -two spools and a chicken leg. Otherwise -the yard was empty of life save for the -chickens and guineas and a white cat<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span> -asleep on the roof of the well-house. Save -for Aunt Venus’s chant and Young Tom’s -crooning (Young Tom to distinguish him -from his father), the morning world was -quite silent. The gulf breeze whispered in -the trees and scattered the petals of the -late roses. A red-bird sang a note from -the edge of the grove and was still. Aunt -Venus, fat and forty, waddled to the -kitchen door, cast a stern glance at Young -Tom and a softer one at Holly, and disappeared -again, still singing:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“Lord Gawd of Israel,</div> - <div class="verse indent1">Lord Gawd of Israel,</div> - <div class="verse indent1">Lord Gawd of Israel,</div> - <div class="verse indent3">Wash all mah sins away!”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>Back of Holly the door stood wide open, -and at the other end of the broad, cool hall -the front portal was no less hospitably -placed. And so it was that when the messenger -of Fate limped and thumped his -way up the steps, crossed the front porch -and paused in the hall, Holly heard and -leaped to her feet.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span></p> - -<p>“Is anyone at home in this house?” -called the messenger.</p> - -<p>Holly sped to meet him.</p> - -<p>“Good-morning, Uncle Major!”</p> - -<p>Major Lucius Quintus Cass changed his -cane to his left hand and shook hands with -Holly, drawing her to him and placing a -resounding kiss on one soft cheek.</p> - -<p>“The privilege of old age, my dear,” -he said; “one of the few things which reconcile -me to gray hairs and rheumatism.” -Still holding her hand, he drew back, his -head on one side and his mouth pursed -into a grimace of astonishment. “Dearie -me,” he said ruefully, with a shake of his -head, “where’s it going to stop, Holly? -Every time I see you I find you’ve grown -more radiant and lovely than before! -’Pears to me, my dear, you ought to have -some pity for us poor men. Gad, if I was -twenty years younger I’d be down on my -knees this instant!”</p> - -<p>Holly laughed softly and then drew her -face into an expression of dejection.</p> - -<p>“That’s always the way,” she sighed.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span> -“All the real nice men are either married -or think they’re too old to marry. I -reckon I’ll just die an old maid, Uncle -Major.”</p> - -<p>“Rather than allow it,” the Major replied, -gallantly, “I’ll dye my hair and -marry you myself! But don’t you talk -that way to me, young lady; I know what’s -going on in the world. They tell me the -Marysville road’s all worn out from the -travel over it.”</p> - -<p>Holly tossed her head.</p> - -<p>“That’s only Cousin Julian,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Humph! ‘Only Cousin Julian,’ eh? -Well, Cousin Julian’s a fine-looking beau, -my dear, and Doctor Thompson told me -only last week that he’s doing splendidly, -learning to poison folks off real natural -and saw off their legs and arms so’s it’s a -genuine pleasure to them. I reckon that -in about a year or so Cousin Julian will be -thinking of getting married. Eh? What -say?”</p> - -<p>“He may for all of me,” laughed Holly. -But her cheeks wore a little deeper tint,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span> -and the Major chuckled. Then he became -suddenly grave.</p> - -<p>“Is your Aunt at home?” he asked, in a -low voice.</p> - -<p>“She’s up-stairs,” answered Holly. -“I’ll tell her you’re here, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Just a moment,” said the Major, hurriedly. -“I—oh, Lord!” He rubbed his -chin slowly, and looked at Holly in comical -despair. “Holly, pity the sorrows of a -poor old man.”</p> - -<p>“What have you been doing, Uncle Major?” -asked Holly, sternly.</p> - -<p>“Nothing, ’pon my word, my dear! -That is—well, almost nothing. I thought -it was all for the best, but now——” He -stopped and shook his head. Then he -threw back his shoulders, surrendered his -hat and stick to the girl, and marched resolutely -into the parlor. There he turned, -pointed upward and nodded his head silently. -Holly, smiling but perplexed, ran -up-stairs.</p> - -<p>Left alone in the big, square, white-walled -room, dim and still, the Major unbuttoned<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span> -his long frock coat and threw the -lapels aside with a gesture of bravado. -But in another instant he was listening -anxiously to the confused murmur of -voices from the floor above and plucking -nervously at the knees of his trousers. -Presently a long-drawn sigh floated onto -the silence, and—</p> - -<p>“Godamighty!” whispered the Major; -“I wish I’d never done it!”</p> - -<p>The Major was short in stature and generous -of build. Since the war, when a -Northern bullet had almost terminated the -usefulness of his right leg, he had been a -partial cripple and the enforced quiescence -had resulted in a portliness quite out of -proportion to his height. He had a large -round head, still well covered with silky -iron-gray hair, a jovial face lit by restless, -kindly eyes of pale blue, a large, flexible -mouth, and an even more generous nose. -The cheeks had become somewhat pendulous -of late years and reminded one of the -convenient sacks in which squirrels place -nuts in temporary storage. The Major<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span> -shaved very closely over the whole expanse -of face each morning and by noon was -tinged an unpleasant ghastly blue by the -undiscouraged bristles.</p> - -<p>Although Holly called him “Uncle” he -was in reality no relation. He had ever -been, however, her father’s closest friend -and on terms of greater intimacy than -many near relations. Excepting only -Holly, none had mourned more truly at -Lamar Wayne’s death. The Captain had -been the Major’s senior by only one year, -but seeing them together one would have -supposed the discrepancy in age much -greater. The Major always treated the -Captain like an older brother, accepting -his decisions with unquestioning loyalty, -and accorded him precedence in all things. -It was David and Jonathan over again. -Even after the war, in which the younger -man had won higher promotion, the Major -still considered the Captain his superior -officer.</p> - -<p>The Major pursued an uncertain law -practice and had served for some time as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span> -Circuit Judge. Among the negroes he was -always “Major Jedge.” That he had -never been able to secure more than the -simplest comforts of life in the pursuit of -his profession was largely due to an unpractical -habit of summoning the opposing -parties in litigation to his office and settling -the case out of court. Add to this -that fully three-fourths of his clients were -negroes, and that “Major Jedge” was too -soft-hearted to insist on payment for his -services when the client was poorer than -he, and you can readily understand that -Major Lucius Quintus Cass’s fashion of -wearing large patches on his immaculately-shining -boots was not altogether a -matter of choice.</p> - -<div class="figright" id="i_p029"> - <img src="images/i_p029.jpg" alt="Miss India's entrance" title="Miss India's entrance"> -</div> - -<p>The Major had not long to wait for an -audience. As he adjusted his trouser-legs -for the third time the sound of soft footfalls -on the bare staircase reached him. -He glanced apprehensively at the open -door, puffed his cheeks out in a mighty -exhalation of breath, and arose from his -chair just as Miss India Wayne swept into<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span> -the room. I say swept advisedly, for in -spite of the lady’s diminutive stature she -was incapable of entering a room in any -other manner. Where other women -walked, Miss India swept; where others -bowed, Miss India curtseyed; where others -sat down, Miss India subsided. Hers were -the manners and graces of a half-century -ago. She was fifty-four years old, but -many of those years had passed over her -very lightly. Small, perfectly proportioned, -with a delicate oval face surmounted -by light brown hair, untouched as -yet by frost and worn in a braided coronet, -attired in a pale lavender gown of many -ruffles, she was for all the world like a -little Chelsea figurine. She smiled upon -the Major a trifle anxiously as she shook -hands and bowed graciously to his compliments. -Then seating herself erectly on the -sofa—for Miss India never lolled—she -folded her hands in her lap and looked -calmly expectant at the visitor. As the -visitor exhibited no present intention of -broaching the subject of his visit she took<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span> -command of the situation, just as she was -capable of and accustomed to taking command -of most situations.</p> - -<p>“Holly has begged me not to be hard on -you, Major,” she said, in her sweet, still -youthful voice. “Pray what have you -been doing now? You are not here, I trust, -to plead guilty to another case of reprehensible -philanthropy?”</p> - -<p>“No, Miss Indy, I assure you that you -have absolutely reformed me, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>Miss India smiled in polite incredulity, -tapping one slender hand upon the other -as she might in the old days at the White -Sulphur have tapped him playfully, yet -quite decorously, with her folded fan. The -Major chose not to observe the incredulity -and continued:</p> - -<p>“The fact is, my dear Miss Indy, that I -have come on a matter of more—ah—importance. -You will recollect—pardon me, -pray, if I recall unpleasant memories to -mind—you will recollect that when your -brother died it was found that he had unfortunately -left very little behind him in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span> -the way of worldly wealth. He passed onward, -madam, rich in the love and respect -of the community, but poor in earthly possessions.”</p> - -<p>The Major paused and rubbed his bristly -chin agitatedly. Miss India bowed silently.</p> - -<p>“As his executor,” continued the Major, -“it was my unpleasant duty to offer this -magnificent estate for sale. It was purchased, -as you will recollect, by Judge Linderman, -of Georgia, a friend of your -brother’s——”</p> - -<p>“Pardon me, Major; an acquaintance.”</p> - -<p>“Madam, all those so fortunate as to -become acquainted with Captain Lamar -Wayne were his friends.”</p> - -<p>Miss India bowed again and waived the -point.</p> - -<p>“Judge Linderman, as he informed me -at the time of the purchase, bought the -property as a speculation. He was the -owner of much real estate throughout the -South. At his most urgent request you -consented to continue your residence at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span> -Waynewood, paying him rent for the property.”</p> - -<p>“But nevertheless,” observed Miss India, -a trifle bitterly, “being to a large extent -an object of his charity. The sum -paid as rent is absurd.”</p> - -<p>“Nominal, madam, I grant you,” returned -the Major. “Had our means allowed -we should have insisted on paying -more. But you are unjust to yourself -when you speak of charity. As I pointed -out—or, rather, as Judge Linderman -pointed out to me, had you moved from -Waynewood he would have been required -to install a care-taker, which would have -cost him several dollars a month, whereas -under the arrangement made he drew a -small but steady interest from the investment. -I now come, my dear Miss Indy, to -certain facts which are—with which you -are, I think, unacquainted. That that is so -is my fault, if fault there is. Believe me, -I accept all responsibility in the matter -and am prepared to bear your reproaches -without a murmur, knowing that I have<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span> -acted for what I have believed to be the -best.”</p> - -<p>Miss India’s calm face showed a trace of -agitation and her crossed hands trembled -a little.</p> - -<p>The Major paused as though deliberating.</p> - -<p>“Pray continue, Major,” she said. -“Whatever you have done has been done, -I am certain, from motives of true friendship.”</p> - -<p>The Major bowed gratefully.</p> - -<p>“I thank you, madam. To resume, about -four years ago Judge Linderman became -bankrupt through speculation in cotton. -That, I believe, you already knew. What -you did not know was that in meeting his -responsibilities he was obliged to part with -all his real estate holdings, Waynewood -amongst them.”</p> - -<p>The Major paused, expectantly, but the -only comment from his audience, if comment -it might be called, was a quivering -sigh of apprehension which sent the Major -quickly on with his story.</p> - -<p>“Waynewood fell into the hands of a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span> -Mr. Gerald Potter, of New York, a broker, -who——”</p> - -<p>“A Northerner!” cried Miss India.</p> - -<p>“A Northerner, my dear lady,” granted -the Major, avoiding the lady’s horrified -countenance, “but, as I have been creditably -informed, a thorough gentleman and -a representative of one of the foremost -New York families.”</p> - -<p>“A gentleman!” echoed Miss India, -scornfully. “A Northern gentleman! And -so I am to understand that for four years -I and my niece have been subsisting on the -charity of a Northerner! Is that what you -have come to inform me, Major Cass?”</p> - -<p>“The former arrangement was allowed -to continue,” answered the Major, evenly, -“being quite satisfactory to the new owner -of the property. I regret, if you will pardon -me, the use of the word charity, Miss -India.”</p> - -<p>“You may regret it to your soul’s content, -Major Cass,” replied Miss India, -with acerbity. “The fact remains—the -horrible, dishonoring fact! I consider<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span> -your course almost—and I had never -thought to use the word to you, sir—insulting!”</p> - -<p>“It is indeed a harsh word, madam,” -replied the Major, gently and sorrowfully. -“I realize that I have been ill-advised in -keeping the truth from you, but in a calmer -moment you will, I am certain, exonerate -me from all intentions unworthy of my -love for your dead brother and of my respect -for you.” There was a suggestive -tremble in the Major’s voice.</p> - -<p>Miss India dropped her eyes to the hands -which were writhing agitatedly in her lap. -Then:</p> - -<p>“You are right, my dear friend,” she -said, softly. “I was too hasty. You will -forgive me, will you not? But—this news -of yours—is so unexpected, so astounding——!”</p> - -<p>“Pray say no more!” interposed the -Major, warmly. “I quite understand your -agitation. And since the subject is unpleasant -to you I will conclude my explanation -as quickly as possible.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span></p> - -<p>“There is more?” asked Miss India, -anxiously.</p> - -<p>“A little. Mr. Potter kept the property -some three years and then—I learned these -facts but a few hours since—then became -involved in financial troubles and—pardon -me—committed suicide. He was found at -his desk in his office something over a year -ago with a bullet in his brain.”</p> - -<p>“Horrible!” ejaculated Miss India, but—and -may I in turn be pardoned if I do -the lady an injustice—there was something -in her tone suggesting satisfaction with the -manner in which a just Providence had -dealt with a Northerner so presumptuous -as to dishonor Waynewood with his ownership. -“And now?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“This morning I received a letter from -a gentleman signing himself Robert Winthrop, -a business partner of the late unfortunate -owner of the property. In the -letter he informs me that after arranging -the firm’s affairs he finds himself in possession -of Waynewood and is coming here -to look it over and, if it is in condition to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span> -allow of it, to spend some months here. -He writes—let me see; I have his letter -here. Ah, yes. H’m:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“‘My health went back on me after I had got affairs -fixed up, and I have been dandling my heels about a -sanitarium for three months. Now the physician advises -quiet and a change of scene, and it occurs to -me that I may find both in your town. So I am -leaving almost at once for Florida. Naturally, I -wish to see my new possessions, and if the house is -habitable I shall occupy it for three or four months. -When I arrive I shall take the liberty of calling on -you and asking your assistance in the matter.’”</p> -</div> - -<p>The Major folded the letter and returned -it to the cavernous pocket of his coat.</p> - -<p>“I gather that he is—ah—uninformed -of the present arrangement,” he observed.</p> - -<p>“That, I think, is of slight importance,” -returned Miss India, “since by the time -he arrives the house will be quite at his -disposal.”</p> - -<p>“You mean that you intend to move -out?” asked the Major, anxiously.</p> - -<p>“Most certainly! Do you think that I—that -either Holly or I—would continue to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span> -remain under this roof a moment longer -than necessary now that we know it belongs -to a—a Northerner?”</p> - -<p>“But he writes—he expresses himself -like a gentleman, my dear lady, and I feel -certain that he would be only too proud -to have you remain here——”</p> - -<p>“I have never yet seen a Northern gentleman, -Major,” replied Miss India, contemptuously, -“and until I do I refuse to -believe in the existence of such an anomaly.”</p> - -<p>The Major raised his hands in a gesture -of helpless protestation.</p> - -<p>“Madam, I had the honor of fighting the -Northerners, and I assure you that many -of them are gentlemen. Their ways are -not ours, I grant you, nor are their manners, -but——”</p> - -<p>“That is a subject upon which, I recollect, -you and my brother were never able -to agree.”</p> - -<p>The Major nodded ruefully. The momentary -silence was broken at last by Miss -India.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span></p> - -<p>“I do not pretend to pit my imperfect -knowledge against yours, Major. There -may be Northerners who have gentlemanly -instincts. That, as may be, I refuse to be -beholden to one of them. They were our -enemies and they are still <em>my</em> enemies. -They killed my brother John; they -brought ruin to our land.”</p> - -<p>“The killing, madam, was not all on -their side, I take satisfaction in recalling. -And if they brought distress to the South -they have since very nobly assisted us to -restore it.”</p> - -<p>“My brother has said many times,” replied -the lady, “that he might in time forgive -the North for knocking us down but -that he could never forgive it for helping -us up. You have heard him say that, Major?”</p> - -<p>“I have, my dear Miss India, I have. -And yet I venture to say that had the Lord -spared Lamar for another twenty years -he would have modified his convictions.”</p> - -<p>“Never,” said Miss India, sternly; -“never!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span></p> - -<p>“You may be right, my dear lady, but -there was something else I have often -heard him say.”</p> - -<p>“And pray what is that?”</p> - -<p>“A couplet of Mr. Pope’s, madam:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“‘Good nature and good sense must ever join;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To err is human; to forgive, divine.’”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p>“I reckon, however,” answered the lady, -dryly, “that you never heard him connect -that sentiment with the Yankees.”</p> - -<p>The Major chuckled.</p> - -<p>“Deftly countered, madam!” he said. -And then, taking advantage of the little -smile of gratification which he saw: “But -this is a subject which you and I, Miss India, -can no more agree upon than could -your brother and myself. Let us pass it -by. But grant me this favor. Remain at -Waynewood until this Mr. Winthrop arrives. -See him before you judge him, -madam. Remember that if what he writes -gives a fair exposition of the case, he is -little better than an invalid and so must -find sympathy in every woman’s heart.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span> -There is time enough to go, if go you must, -afterwards. It is scarcely likely that Mr. -Winthrop could find better tenants. And no -more likely that you and Holly could find -so pleasant a home. Do this, ma’am.”</p> - -<p>And Miss India surrendered; not at -once, you must know, but after a stubborn -defence, and then only when mutineers -from her own lines made common cause -with the enemy. Before the allied forces -of the Major’s arguments and her own womanly -sympathy she was forced to capitulate. -And so when a few moments later -Holly, after a sharp skirmish of her own -in which she had been decisively beaten by -Curiosity, appeared at the door, she found -Aunt India and the Major amicably discussing -village affairs.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="III">III.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>Robert Winthrop, laden with bag, overcoat -and umbrella, left the sleeping-car in -which he had spent most of the last eighteen -hours and crossed the narrow platform -of the junction to the train which was -to convey him the last stage of his journey. -It was almost three o’clock in the afternoon—for -the Florida Limited, according -to custom, had been two hours late—and -Winthrop was both jaded and dirty; and I -might add that, since this was his first experience -with Southern travel, he was also -somewhat out of patience.</p> - -<p>Choosing the least soiled of the broken-springed, -red-velveted seats in the white -compartment of the single passenger car, -he set his bag down and sank weariedly -back. Through the small window beside -him he saw the Limited take up its jolting -progress once more, and watched the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span> -station-agent deposit his trunk in the -baggage-car ahead, which, with the single -passenger-coach, comprised the Corunna -train. Then followed five minutes during -which nothing happened. Winthrop sighed -resignedly and strove to find interest in -the view. But there was little to see from -where he sat; a corner of the station, a -section of platform adorned with a few -bales of cotton, a crate of live chickens, -and a bag of raw peanuts, a glimpse of the -forest which crept down to the very edge -of the track, a wide expanse of cloudless -blue sky. Through the open door and windows, -borne on the lazy sun-warmed air, -came the gentle wheezing of the engine -ahead, the sudden discordant chatter of a -bluejay, and the murmurous voices of two -negro women in the other compartment. -There was no hint of Winter in the air, -although November was almost a week -old; instead, it was warm, languorous, -scented with the odors of the forest and -tinged at times with the pleasantly acrid -smell of burning pitch-pine from the engine.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span> -It was strangely soft, that air, soft -and soothing to tired nerves, and Winthrop -felt its influence and sighed. But this time -the sigh was not one of resignation; rather -of surrender. He stretched his legs as well -as he might in the narrow space afforded -them, leaned his head back and closed his -eyes. He hadn’t realized until this moment -how tired he was! The engine -sobbed and wheezed and the negroes -beyond the closed door murmured on.</p> - -<p>“Your ticket, sir, if you please.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop opened his eyes and blinked. -The train was swaying along between -green, sunlit forest walls, and at his side -the conductor was waiting with good-humored -patience. Winthrop yielded the last -scrap of his green strip and sat up. Suddenly -the wood fell behind on either side, -giving place to wide fields which rolled -back from the railroad to disappear over -tiny hills. They were fertile, promising-looking -fields, chocolate-hued, covered with -sere, brown cotton-plants to which here and -there tufts of white still clung. Rail fences<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span> -zigzagged between them, and fire-blackened -pine stumps marred their neatness. -At intervals the engine emitted a doleful -screech and a narrow road crossed the -track to amble undecidedly away between -the fields. At such moments Winthrop -caught glimpses -of an occasional -log cabin with -its tipsy, clay-chinked -chimney -and its invariable -congress of lean -chickens and leaner dogs. Now and then -a commotion along the track drew his -attention to a scurrying, squealing drove of -pigs racing out of danger. Then for a time -the woods closed in again, and presently -the train slowed down before a small station. -Winthrop reached tentatively toward -his bag, but at that instant the sign came -into sight, “Cowper,” he read, and settled -back again.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p046"> - <img src="images/i_p046.jpg" alt="Cowper" title="Cowper"> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span></p> - -<p>Apparently none boarded the train and -none got off, and presently the journey began -once more. The conductor entered, -glanced at Winthrop, decided that he -didn’t look communicative and so sat himself -down in the corner and leisurely bit -the corner off a new plug of tobacco.</p> - -<p>The fields came into sight again, and -once a comfortable-looking residence gazed -placidly down at the passing train from -the crest of a nearby hill. But Winthrop -saw without seeing. His thoughts were reviewing -once more the chain of circumstances -which had led link by link to the -present moment. His thoughts went no -further back than that painful morning -nearly two years before when he had discovered -Gerald Potter huddled over his -desk, a revolver beside him on the floor, -and his face horrible with the stains of -blood and of ink from the overturned ink-stand. -They had been friends ever since -college days, Gerald and he, and the shock -had never quite left him. During the subsequent -work of disentangling the affairs<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span> -of the firm the thing haunted him like a -nightmare, and when the last obligation -had been discharged, Winthrop’s own -small fortune going with the rest, he had -broken down completely. Nervous prostration, -the physician called it. Looking -back at it now Winthrop had a better name -for it, and that was, Hell. There had been -moments when he feared he would die, and -interminable nights when he feared he -wouldn’t, when he had cried like a baby -and begged to be put out of misery. There -had been two months of that, and then they -had bundled him off to a sanitarium in the -Connecticut hills. There he, who a few -months before had been a strong, capable -man of thirty-eight, found himself a weak, -helpless, emaciated thing with no will of -his own, a mere sleeping and waking automaton, -more interested in watching the -purple veins on the backs of his thin hands -than aught else in his limited world. At -times he could have wept weakly from self-pity.</p> - -<p>But that, too, had passed. One sparkling<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span> -September morning he lay stretched at -length in a long chair on the uncovered veranda, -a flood of inspiriting sunlight upon -him, and a little breeze, brisk with the cool -zest of Autumn, stirring his hair. And he -had looked up from the white and purple -hands and had seen a new world of green -and gold and blue spread before him at his -feet, a twelve-mile panorama of Nature’s -finest work retouched and varnished overnight. -He had feasted his eyes upon it -and felt a glad stirring at his heart. And -that day had marked the beginning of a -new stage of recovery; he had asked, “How -long?”</p> - -<p>The last week in October had seen his release. -He had returned to his long-vacant -apartment in New York fully determined to -start at once the work of rebuilding his -fallen fortunes. But his physician had interposed. -“I’ve done what I can for you,” -he said, “and the rest is in your own hands. -Get away from New York; it won’t supply -what you need. Get into the country somewhere, -away from cities and tickers. Hunt,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span> -fish, spend your time out of doors. There’s -nothing organically wrong with that heart -of yours, but it’s pretty tired yet; nurse it -awhile.”</p> - -<p>“The programme sounds attractive,” -Winthrop had replied, smilingly, “but it’s -expensive. Practically I am penniless. -Give me a year to gather the threads up -again and get things a-going once more, -and I’ll take your medicine gladly.”</p> - -<p>The physician had shrugged his shoulders -with a grim smile.</p> - -<p>“I have never heard,” he replied, “that -the hunting or fishing was especially good -in the next world.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean?” asked Winthrop, -frowning.</p> - -<p>“Just this, sir. You say you can’t afford -to take a vacation. I say you can’t afford -not to take it. I’ve lived a good deal longer -than you and I give you my word I never -saw a poor man who wasn’t a whole lot -better off than any dead one of my acquaintance. -I don’t want to frighten you, -but I tell you frankly that if you stay here<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span> -and buckle down to rebuilding your business -you’ll be a damned poor risk for any -insurance company inside of two weeks. -It’s better to live poor than to die rich. -Take your choice.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop had taken it. After all, poverty -is comparative, and he realized that -he was still as well off as many a clerk -who was contentedly keeping a family on -his paltry twenty or thirty dollars a week. -He sub-rented his apartment, paid what -bills he owed out of the small balance -standing to his name at the bank, and considered -the question of destination. It -was then that he had remembered the piece -of property in Florida which he had taken -over for the firm and which, having been -the least desirable of the assets, had escaped -the creditors. He went to the telephone -and called up the physician.</p> - -<p>“How would Florida do?” he had asked. -“Good place to play invalid, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t care where you go,” was the -response, “so long as there’s pure air and -sunshine there, and as long as you give<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[52]</span> -your whole attention to mending yourself.”</p> - -<p>He had never been in Florida, but it appealed -to him and he believed that, since -he must live economically, there could be -no better place; at least there would be no -rent to pay. So he had written to Major -Cass, whose name he had come across in -looking over his partner’s papers, and had -started South on the heels of his letter. -The trip had been a hard one for him, but -now the soft, fragrant air that blew against -his face through the open car window was -already soothing him with its caressing -touch and whispering fair promises of -strengthening days. A long blast of the -whistle moved the conductor to a return -of animation and Winthrop awoke from -his thoughts. The train was slowing down -with a grinding of hand-brakes. Through -the window he caught glimpses of gardens -and houses and finally of a broad, tree-lined -street marching straight away from -the railroad up a sloping hill to a gray -stone building with a wooden cupola which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span> -seemed to block its path. Then the station -threw its shadow across him and the -train, with many jerks and much rattling -of coupling, came to a stop.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p054"> - <img src="images/i_p054.jpg" alt="Corunna" title="Corunna"> -</div> - -<p>“Corunna,” drawled the conductor.</p> - -<p>Outside, on the platform which ran in -front of the station on a level with the car -floors, Winthrop looked about him with -mingled amusement and surprise. In most -places, he thought, the arrival of the daily -train was an event of sufficient importance -to people the station platform with spectators. -But here he counted just three -persons beside himself and the train crew. -These were the two negresses who had -travelled with him and the station agent. -There was no carriage in sight; not even -a dray for his trunk. He applied to the -agent.</p> - -<p>“Take that street over yonder,” said -the agent, “and it’ll fetch you right square -to the Major’s office, sir. I’ll look after -your bag until you send for it. You tell -the nigger to ask me for it, sir.”</p> - -<div class="figright" id="i_p055"> - <img src="images/i_p055.jpg" alt="Winthrop's bags" title="Winthrop's bags"> -</div> - -<p>So Winthrop yielded the bag, coat and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span> -umbrella and started forth. The station -and the adjoining freight-shed stood, neutral-hued, -under the wide-spreading -branches of several magnificent live-oaks, -in one of which, hidden somewhere in -the thick greenery, a thrush was singing. -This sound, with that of the panting of -the tired engine, alone stirred the somnolent -silence of mid-afternoon. A road, -deep with white sand, ambled away beneath -the trees in the direction of the wide -street which Winthrop had seen from the -car and to which he had been directed. It -proved to be a well-kept thoroughfare -lined with oaks and bordered by pleasant -gardens in front of comfortable, always -picturesque and sometimes handsome<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span> -houses. The sidewalks were high above -the street, and gullies of red clay, washed -deep by the heavy rains, divided the two. -In front of the gates little bridges crossed -the gullies. The gardens were still aflame -with late flowers and the scent of roses was -over all. Winthrop walked slowly, his -senses alert and enravished. He drew in -deep breaths of the fragrant air and sighed -for very contentment.</p> - -<p>“Heavens,” he said under his breath, -“the place is just one big rest cure! If I -can’t get fixed up here I might as well give -up trying. I wonder,” he added a moment -later, “if every one is asleep.”</p> - -<p>There was not a soul in sight up the -length of the street, but from one of the -houses came the sound of a piano and, as -he glanced toward its embowered porch, he -thought he caught the white of a woman’s gown.</p> - -<p>“Someone’s awake, anyhow,” he -thought. “Maybe she’s a victim of insomnia.”</p> - -<p>The street came to an end in a wide<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span> -space surrounded by one- and two-story -stores and occupied in the centre by a -stone building which he surmised to be the -court-house. He bore to the right, his eyes -searching the buildings for the shingle of -Major Cass. A few teams were standing -in front of the town hitching-rails, and perhaps -a dozen persons, mostly negroes, were -in view. He had decided to appeal for information -when he caught sight of a modest -sign on a corner building across the -square. “L. Q. Cass, Counsellor at Law,” -he read. The building was a two-story affair -of crumbling red brick. The lower -part was occupied by a general merchandise -store, and the upper by offices. A -flight of wooden steps led from the sidewalk -along the outside of the building to -the second floor. Winthrop ascended, entered -an open door, and knocked at the first -portal. But there was no reply to his demands, -and, as the other rooms in sight -were evidently untenanted, he returned to -the street and addressed himself to a youth -who sat on an empty box under the wooden<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span> -awning of the store below. The youth was -in his shirt-sleeves and was eating sugar-cane, -but at Winthrop’s greeting he rose -to his feet, wiped his mouth with the back -of his hand and answered courteously:</p> - -<p>“Waynewood is about three-quarters of -a mile, sir,” he replied to the stranger’s -inquiry. “Right down this street, sir, until -you cross the bridge over the branch. -Then it’s the first place.”</p> - -<p>He was evidently very curious about the -questioner, but strove politely to restrain -that curiosity until the other had moved -away along the street.</p> - -<p>The street upon which Winthrop now -found himself ran at right angles with that -up which he had proceeded from the station. -Like that, it was shaded from side to -side by water-oaks and bordered by gardens. -But the gardens were larger, less -flourishing, and the houses behind them -smaller and less tidy. He concluded that -this was an older part of the village. Several -carriages passed him, and once he -paused in the shade to watch the slow approach<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span> -and disappearance of a creaking -two-wheeled cart, presided over by a white-haired -old negro and drawn by a pair of -ruminative oxen. It was in sight quite five -minutes, during which time Winthrop -leaned against the sturdy bole of an oak -and marvelled smilingly.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p058"> - <img src="images/i_p058.jpg" alt="two-wheeled cart and oxen" title="two-wheeled cart and oxen"> -</div> - -<p>“And in New York,” he said to himself, -“we swear because it takes us twenty minutes -to get to Wall Street on the elevated!”</p> - -<p>He went on, glad of the rest, passing -from sunlight to shadow along the uneven -sidewalk and finally crossing the bridge, a -tiny affair over a shallow stream of limpid -water which trickled musically over its bed -of white sand. Beyond the bridge the sidewalk -ceased and he went on for a little distance -over a red clay road, rutted by -wheels and baked hard by the sun. Then -a picket fence which showed evidence of -having once been whitewashed met him and -he felt a sudden stirring within him. This -was Waynewood, doubtless, and it belonged -to him. The thought was somehow -a very pleasant one. He wondered why.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span> -He had possessed far more valuable real -estate in his time but he couldn’t recollect -that he had ever thrilled before at the -thought of ownership.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p061"> - <img src="images/i_p061.jpg" alt="Waynewood" title="Waynewood"> -</div> - -<p>“Oh, there’s magic in this ridiculous -air,” he told himself whimsically. “Even -a toad would look romantic here, I dare -say. I wonder if there is a gate to my domain.”</p> - -<p>Behind the fence along which he made -his way was an impenetrable mass of -shrubbery and trees. Of what was beyond, -there was no telling. But presently the -gate was before him, sagging wide open on -its rusted hinges. From it a straight path, -narrow and shadowy, proceeded for some -distance, crossed a blur of sunlight and -continued to where a gleam of white -seemed to indicate a building. The path -was set between solid rows of oleander -bushes whose lanceolate leaves whispered -murmurously to Winthrop as he trod the -firm, moss-edged path.</p> - -<p>The blur of sunlight proved to be a break -in the path where a driveway angled across<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span> -it, curving on toward the house and backward -toward the road where, as Winthrop -later discovered, it emerged through a gate -beyond the one by which he had entered. -He crossed the drive and plunged again -into the gloom of the oleander path. But -his journey was almost over, for a moment -later the sentinel bushes dropped away -from beside him and he found himself at -the foot of a flower garden, across whose -blossom-flecked width a white-pillared, -double-galleried old house stared at him -in dignified calm. The porches were untenanted -and the wide-open door showed -an empty hall. To reach that door Winthrop -had to make a half circuit of the -garden, for directly in front of him a great -round bed of roses and box barred his way. -In the middle of the bed a stained marble -cupid twined garlands of roses about his -naked body. Winthrop followed the path -to the right and circled his way to the drive -and the steps, the pleasure of possession -kindling in his heart. With his foot on the -lowest step he paused and glanced about<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span> -him. It was charming! Find his health -here? Oh, beyond a doubt he would. -Ponce de Leon had searched in this part of -the world for the Fountain of Youth. Who -knew but that he, Robert Winthrop, might -not find it here, hidden away in this fragrant, -shaded jungle? And just then his -wandering glance fell on a sprawling fig-tree -at the end of the porch, at a white figure<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span> -perched in its branches, at a girl’s -fresh young face looking across at him -with frank and smiling curiosity.</p> - -<p>Winthrop took off his hat and moved toward -the fig-tree.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IV">IV.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>The Major had accomplished his errand -and had taken his departure, accompanied -down the oleander path as far as the gate -by Holly. He was very well satisfied with -his measure of success. Miss India had -consented to remain at Waynewood until -the arrival of the new owner, and if the -new owner proved to be the kind of man -the Major hoped him to be, things would -work out quite satisfactory. Of course -a good deal depended on Robert Winthrop’s -being as much of an invalid as the -Major had pictured him to Miss India. -Let him appear on the scene exhibiting a -sound body and rugged health and all the -Major’s plans would be upset; Miss India’s -sympathy would vanish on the instant, -and Waynewood would be promptly -abandoned to the enemy.</p> - -<p>The Major’s affection for Miss India<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span> -and Holly was deep and sincere, and -the idea of their leaving Waynewood -was intolerable to him. The thing mustn’t -be, and he believed he could prevent -it. Winthrop, on arrival, would of course -call upon him at once. Then he would -point out to him the advantage of retaining -such admirable tenants, acquaint him -with the terms of occupancy, and prevail -upon him to renew the lease, which had -expired some months before. It was not -likely that Winthrop would remain in Corunna -more than three months at the most, -and during his stay he could pay Miss India -for his board. Yes, the Major had -schemed it all out between the moment of -receiving that disquieting letter and the -moment of his arrival at Waynewood. And -his schemes looked beyond the present crisis. -In another year or so Julian Wayne, -Holly’s second cousin, would have finished -his term with Doctor Thompson at Marysville -and would be ready to begin practice -for himself, settle down and marry Holly. -Why shouldn’t Julian buy Waynewood?<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>[65]</span> -To be sure, he possessed very little capital, -but it was not likely that the present owner -of Waynewood would demand a large price -for the property. There could be a mortgage, -and Julian was certain to make a success -of his profession. In this way Waynewood -would remain with the Waynes and -Miss India and Holly could live their lives -out in the place that had always been home -to them. So plotted the Major, while Fate, -outwardly inscrutable, doubtless chuckled -in her sleeve.</p> - -<div class="figcenter2" id="i_p065"> - <img src="images/i_p065.jpg" alt="Major Cass" title="Major Cass"> -</div> - -<p>At the gate the Major had shaken hands -with Holly and made a request.</p> - -<p>“My dear,” he had said, “when you return -to the house your Aunt will have -something to tell you. Be guided by her. -Remember that there are two sides to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>[66]</span> -every question and that—ah—time alters -all things.”</p> - -<p>“But, Uncle Major, I don’t know what -you’re talking about,” Holly had declared, -laughing.</p> - -<p>“I know you don’t, my dear; I know -you don’t. And I haven’t time to tell -you.” He had drawn his big silver watch -from his vest and glanced at it apprehensively. -“I promised to be at my office -an hour ago. I really must hurry back. -Good-bye, my dear.”</p> - -<p>“Good-bye,” Holly had answered. “But -I think you’re a most provoking, horrid -old Uncle Major.”</p> - -<p>But if the Major had feared mutiny on -the part of Holly he might have spared -himself the uneasiness. Holly had heard of -the impending event from Aunt India at -the dinner table with relish. Of course -it was disgusting to learn that Waynewood -was owned by a Northerner, but doubtless -that was an injustice of Fate which would -be remedied in good time. The exciting -thing was that they were to have a visitor,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[67]</span> -a stranger, someone from that fearsomely -interesting and, if reports were to be credited, -delightfully wicked place called New -York; someone who could talk to her of -other matters than the prospects of securing -the new railroad.</p> - -<p>“Auntie, is he married?” she had asked, -suddenly.</p> - -<p>“My dear Holly, what has that to do -with it?”</p> - -<p>“Well, you see,” Holly had responded, -demurely, “I’m not married myself, and -when you put two people together who are -not married, why, something may happen.”</p> - -<p>“Holly!” protested Miss India, in horror.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I was only in fun,” said Holly, with -a laugh. “Do you reckon, Auntie dear, -that I’d marry a Northerner?”</p> - -<p>“I should certainly trust not,” replied -Miss India, severely.</p> - -<p>“Not if he had millions and millions of -money and whole bushels of diamonds,” -answered Holly, cheerfully. “But is he -married, Auntie?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[68]</span></p> - -<p>“I’m sure I can’t say. The Major believes -him to be a man of middle age, possibly -fifty years old, and so it is quite likely -that he has a wife.”</p> - -<p>“And he is not bringing her with him?”</p> - -<p>“He said nothing of it in his letter, my -dear.”</p> - -<p>“Then I think she’s a very funny kind of -a wife,” replied Holly, with conviction. -“If he is an invalid, I don’t see why she -lets him come away down here all alone. -I wouldn’t if I were she. I’d be afraid.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t reckon he’s as much of an invalid -as all that.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I wasn’t thinking about his health -then,” answered Holly. “I’d be afraid -he’d meet someone he liked better than me -and I wouldn’t see him again.”</p> - -<p>“Holly, where do you get such deplorable -notions?” asked her Aunt severely. -“It must be the books you read. You read -altogether too much. At your age, my -dear, I assure you I——”</p> - -<p>“I shall be eighteen in just twelve -days,” interrupted Holly. “And eighteen<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>[69]</span> -is grown-up. Besides, you know very well -that wives do lose their husbands sometimes. -There was Cousin Maybird Fairleigh——”</p> - -<p>“I decline to discuss such vulgar subjects,” -said Miss India, decisively. “Under -the circumstances I think it just as -well to forget the relationship, which is of -the very slightest, my dear.”</p> - -<p>“But it wasn’t Cousin Maybird’s fault,” -protested Holly. “She didn’t want to -lose him, Aunt India. He was a very nice -husband; very handsome and distinguished, -you know. It was all the fault of -that other woman, the one he married after -the divorce.”</p> - -<p>“Holly!”</p> - -<p>“Yes?”</p> - -<p>“We will drop the subject, if you -please.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Auntie.”</p> - -<p>Holly smiled at her plate. Presently:</p> - -<p>“When is this Mr. Winthrop coming?” -she asked.</p> - -<p>“He didn’t announce the exact date of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[70]</span> -arrival,” replied Miss India. “But probably -within a day or two. I have ordered -Phœbe to prepare the West Chamber for -him. He will, of course, require a warm -room and a good bed.”</p> - -<p>“But, Auntie, the carpet is so awful in -the West Room,” deplored Holly.</p> - -<p>“That is his affair,” replied Aunt India, -serenely, as she arose from the table. “It -is his carpet.”</p> - -<p>Holly looked surprised, then startled.</p> - -<p>“Do you mean that everything here belongs -to him?” she asked, incredulously. -“The furniture and pictures and books -and—and everything?”</p> - -<p>“Waynewood was sold just as it stood -at the time, my dear. Everything except -what is our personal property belongs to -Mr. Winthrop.”</p> - -<p>“Then I shall hate him,” said Holly, -with calm decision.</p> - -<p>“You must do nothing of the sort, my -dear. The place and the furnishings belong -to him legally.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t care, Auntie. He has no right<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[71]</span> -to them. I shall hate him. Why, he owns -the very bed I sleep in and my maple bureau -and——”</p> - -<p>“You forget, Holly, that those things -were bought after your father died and do -not belong to his estate.”</p> - -<p>“Then they’re really mine, after all? -Very well, Auntie dear, I shan’t hate him, -then; at least, not so much.”</p> - -<p>“I trust you will not hate him at all,” -responded Miss India, with a smile. “Being -an invalid, as he is, we must——”</p> - -<p>“Shucks!” exclaimed Holly. “I dare -say he’s just making believe so we won’t -put poison in his coffee!”</p> - -<p>In the middle of the afternoon, what time -Miss India composed herself to slumber -and silence reigned over Waynewood, -Holly found a book and sought the fig-tree. -The book, for having been twice read, -proved none too enthralling, and presently -it had dropped unheeded to the ground and -Holly, leaning comfortably back against -the branches, was day-dreaming once more. -The sound of footsteps on the garden path<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[72]</span> -roused her, and she peered forth just as -the intruder began his half circuit of the -rose-bed.</p> - -<p>Afterwards Holly called herself stupid -for not having guessed the identity -of the intruder at once. And yet, it -seems to me that she was very excusable. -Robert Winthrop had been -pictured to her as an invalid, and invalids -in Holly’s judgment were persons -who lay supinely in easy chairs, lived on -chicken broth, guava jelly and calomel, and -were alternately irritatingly resigned or -maddeningly petulant. The expected invalid -had also been described as middle-aged, -a term capable of wide interpretation -and one upon which the worst possible -construction is usually placed. The -Major had suggested fifty; Holly with unconscious -pessimism imagined sixty. Add -to this that Winthrop was not expected -before the morrow, and that Holly’s -acquaintance with the inhabitants of the -country north of Mason and Dixon’s line -was of the slightest and that not of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[73]</span> -sort to prepossess her in their favor, and -I think she may be absolved from the -charge of stupidity. For the stranger -whose advent in the garden had aroused -her from her dreams looked to be under -forty, was far from matching Holly’s idea -of an invalid, and looked quite unlike the -one or two Northerners she had seen. To -be sure the man in the garden walked -slowly and a trifle languidly, but for that -matter so did many of Holly’s townsfolk. -And when he paused at last with one foot -on the lower step his breath was coming a -bit raggedly and his face was too pale for -perfect health. But these facts Holly -failed to observe.</p> - -<p>What she did observe was that the stranger -was rather tall, quite erect, broad of -shoulder and deep of chest, somewhat too -thin for the size of his frame, with a pleasant, -lean face of which the conspicuous features -were high cheek-bones, a straightly -uncompromising nose and a pair of nice -eyes of some shade neither dark nor light. -He wore a brown mustache which, contrary<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[74]</span> -to the Southern custom, was trimmed quite -short; and when he lifted his hat a moment -later Holly saw that his hair, dark -brown in color, had retreated well away -from his forehead and was noticeably -sprinkled with white at the temples. As -for his attire, it was immaculate; black -derby, black silk tie knotted in a four-in-hand -and secured with a small pearl pin, -well-cut grey sack suit and brown leather -shoes. In a Southerner Holly would have -thought such carefulness of dress foppish; -in fact, as it was, she experienced a -tiny contempt for it even as she acknowledged -that the result was far from displeasing. -Further observations and conclusions -were cut short by the stranger, -who advanced toward her with hat in hand -and a puzzled smile.</p> - -<p>“How do you do?” said Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“Good evening,” answered Holly.</p> - -<p>There was a flicker of surprise in Winthrop’s -eyes ere he continued.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I’m trespassing. The fact -is, I was looking for a place called Waynewood<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[75]</span> -and from the directions I received in -the village I thought I had found it. But -I guess I’ve made a mistake?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” said Holly; “this is Waynewood.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop was silent a moment, striving -to reconcile the announcement with her -presence: evidently there were complications -ahead. At last:</p> - -<p>“Oh!” he said, and again paused.</p> - -<p>“Would you like to see my Aunt?” -asked Holly.</p> - -<p>“Er—I hardly know,” answered Winthrop, -with a smile for his own predicament. -“Would it sound impolite if I asked -who your Aunt is?”</p> - -<p>“Why, Miss India Wayne,” answered -Holly. “And I am Holly Wayne. Perhaps -you’ve got the wrong place, after -all?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” was the reply. “You say this -is Waynewood, and of course there can’t -be two Waynewoods about here.”</p> - -<p>Holly shook her head, observing him -gravely and curiously. Winthrop frowned.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[76]</span> -Apparently there were complications -which he had not surmised.</p> - -<p>“Will you come into the house?” suggested -Holly. “I will tell Auntie you wish -to see her.” She prepared to descend -from the low branch upon which she was -seated, and Winthrop reached a hand to -her.</p> - -<p>“May I?” he asked, courteously.</p> - -<p><a href="#i_frontis">Holly placed her hand in his and leaped -lightly to the ground</a>, bending her head -as she smoothed her skirt that he might -not see the ridiculous little flush which had -suddenly flooded her cheeks. Why, she -wondered, should she have blushed. She -had been helped in and out of trees and -carriages, up and down steps, all her life, -and couldn’t recollect that she had ever -done such a silly thing before! As she led -the way along the path which ran in front -of the porch to the steps, she discovered -that her heart was thumping with a most -disconcerting violence. And with the discovery -came a longing for flight. But -with a fierce contempt for her weakness<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[77]</span> -she conquered the panic and kept her -flushed face from the sight of the man behind -her. But she was heartily glad when -she had reached the comparative gloom of -the hall. Laying aside her bonnet, she -turned to find that her companion had -seated himself in a chair on the porch.</p> - -<p>“You won’t mind if I wait here?” he -asked, smiling apologetically. “The fact -is—the walk was——”</p> - -<p>Had Holly not been anxious to avoid his -eyes she would have seen that he was fighting -for breath and quite exhausted. Instead -she turned toward the stairs, only -to pause ere she reached them to ask:</p> - -<p>“What name shall I say, please?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I beg your pardon! Winthrop, -please; Mr. Robert Winthrop, of New -York.”</p> - -<p>Holly wheeled about.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Winthrop!” she exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“If you please,” answered that gentleman, -weakly.</p> - -<p>“Why,” continued Holly, in amazement, -“then you aren’t an invalid, after all!”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[78]</span> -She had reached the door now and was -looking down at him with bewilderment. -Winthrop strove to turn his head toward -her, gave up the effort and smiled strainedly -at the marble Cupid, which had begun -an erratic dance amongst the box and -roses.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” he replied in a whisper. “I’m -not—an invalid—at all.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>[79]</span></p> - -<p>Then he became suddenly very white and -his head fell back over the side of the chair. -Holly gave one look and, turning, flew like -the wind up the broad stairway.</p> - -<div class="figcenter2" id="i_p078"> - <img src="images/i_p078.jpg" alt="Robert Winthrop" title="Robert Winthrop"> -</div> - -<p>“Auntie!” she called. “Aunt India! -Come quickly! He’s fainted!”</p> - -<p>“Fainted? Who has fainted?” asked -Miss India, from her doorway. “What -are you saying, child?”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Winthrop! He’s on the porch!” -cried Holly, her own face almost as white -as Winthrop’s.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Winthrop! Here? Fainted? On -the porch?” ejaculated Miss India, dismayedly. -“Call Uncle Ran at once. I’ll -get the ammonia. Tell Phœbe to bring -some feathers. And get some water yourself, -Holly.”</p> - -<p>In a moment Miss India, the ammonia -bottle in hand, was—I had almost said -scuttling down the stairs. At least, she -made the descent without wasting a moment.</p> - -<p>“The poor man,” she murmured, as she -looked down at the white face and inert<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[80]</span> -form of the stranger. “Holly! Phœbe! -Oh, you’re here, are you? Give me the -water. There! Now bathe his head, Holly. -Mercy, child, how your hand shakes! -Have you never seen any one faint before?”</p> - -<p>“It was so sudden,” faltered Holly.</p> - -<p>“Fainting usually is,” replied Miss India, -as she dampened her tiny handkerchief -with ammonia and held it under Winthrop’s -nose. “Do not hold his head too -high, Holly; that’s better. What do you -say, Phœbe? Why, you’ll just stand there -and hold them until I want them, I reckon. -Dead? Of course he isn’t dead, you foolish -girl. Not the least bit dead. There, his -eyelids moved; didn’t you see them? He -will be all right in a moment. You may -take those feathers away, Phœbe, and tell -Uncle Ran to come and carry Mr. Winthrop -up to his room. And do you go -up and start the fire and turn the bed -down.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop drew a long breath and opened -his eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[81]</span></p> - -<p>“My dear lady,” he muttered, “I am so -very sorry to bother you. I don’t——”</p> - -<p>“Sit still a moment, sir,” commanded -Miss India, gently. “Holly, I told you to -hold his head. Don’t you see that he is -weak and tired? I fear the journey was -too much for you, sir.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop closed his eyes for a moment, -nodding his head assentingly. Then he sat -up and smiled apologetically at the ladies.</p> - -<p>“It was awfully stupid of me,” he said. -“I have not been very well lately and I -guess the walk from the station was longer -than I thought.”</p> - -<p>“You walked from the depot!” exclaimed -Miss India, in horror. “It’s no -wonder then, sir. Why, it’s a mile and a -quarter if it’s a step! I never heard of -anything so—so——!”</p> - -<p>Miss India broke off and turned to the -elderly negro, who had arrived hurriedly -on the scene.</p> - -<p>“Uncle Ran, carry Mr. Winthrop up to -the West Chamber and help him to retire.”</p> - -<p>“My dear lady,” Winthrop protested.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[82]</span> -“I am quite able to walk. Besides, I have -no intention of burdening you with——”</p> - -<p>“Uncle Ran!”</p> - -<p>“Yes’m.”</p> - -<p>“You heard what I said?”</p> - -<p>“Yes’m.”</p> - -<p>Uncle Randall stooped over the chair.</p> - -<p>“Jes’ you put yo’ ahms roun’ my neck, -sir, an’ I’ll tote you mighty cahful an’ -comfable, sir.”</p> - -<p>“But, really, I’d rather walk,” protested -Winthrop. “And with your permission, -Miss—Miss Wayne, I’ll return to the village -until——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[83]</span></p> - -<p>“Uncle Ran!”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Miss Indy, ma’am, I heahs you. -Hol’ on tight, sir.”</p> - -<p>And in this ignoble fashion Winthrop -took possession of Waynewood.</p> - -<div class="figcenter2" id="i_p082"> - <img src="images/i_p082.jpg" alt="Uncle Ran carries Mr. Winthrop" title="Uncle Ran carries Mr. Winthrop"> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[84]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="V">V.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>True to his promise, Uncle Ran bore -Winthrop “careful and comfortable” up -the wide stairs, around the turn and along -the upper hall to the West Chamber, lowering -him at last, as tenderly as a basket of -eggs, into a chair. In spite of his boasts, -Winthrop was in no condition to have -walked up-stairs unaided. The fainting -spell, the first one since he had left the -sanitarium, had left him feeling limp and -shaky. He was glad of the negro’s assistance -and content to have him remove his -shoes and help him off with his coat, the -while he examined his quarters with lazy -interest.</p> - -<p>The room was very large, square, high-ceilinged. -The walls were white and guiltless -of both paper and pictures. Four -large windows would have flooded the room -with light had not the shades been carefully<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[85]</span> -drawn to within two feet of the sills. -As it was, from the windows overlooking -the garden and opening onto the gallery -the afternoon sunlight slanted in, throwing -long parallelograms of mellow gold -across the worn and faded carpet. The -bed was a massive affair of black walnut, -the three chairs were old and comfortable, -and the big mahogany-veneer table in the -centre of the room was large enough to -have served for a banquet. On it was a -lamp, a plate of oranges whose fragrance -was pleasantly perceptible, and a copy of -Pilgrim’s Progress bound in the “keepsake” -fashion of fifty years ago. The fire-place -and hearth were of soft red bricks -and a couple of oak logs were flaring -brightly. A formidable wardrobe, bedecked -with carved branches of grapes, -matched the bed, as did a washstand backed -by a white “splasher” bearing a design of -cat-tails in red outline. The room seemed -depressingly bare at first, but for all of -that there was an air of large hospitality -and plain comfort about it that was somewhat<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[86]</span> -of a relief after the over-furnished, -over-decorated apartments with which -Winthrop was familiar.</p> - -<p>As his baggage had not come Miss India’s -command could not be literally -obeyed, and Uncle Ran had perforce to be -satisfied with the removal of Winthrop’s -outer apparel and his installation on the -bed instead of in it.</p> - -<p>“I’ll get yo’ trunk an’ valise right away, -sir,” he said, “before they close the depot. -Is there anything else I can do for you, -Mr. Winthrop? Can I fetch you a lil’ -glass of sherry, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing, thanks. Yes, though, you -might open some of those windows before -you go. And look in my vest pocket and -toss me a cigarette case you’ll find there. -I saw matches on the mantel, didn’t I? -Thanks. That’s all. My compliments to -Miss Wayne, and tell her I am feeling -much better and that I will be down to -dinner—that is, supper.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you pay no ’tention to the bell,” -said Uncle Ran, soothingly. “Phœbe’ll<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[87]</span> -fetch yo’ supper up to you, sir. I’ll jes’ -go ’long now and get yo’ trunk.”</p> - -<p>Uncle Ran closed the door softly behind -him and Winthrop was left alone. He -pulled the spread over himself, gave a sigh -of content, and lighted a cigarette with -fingers that still trembled. Then, placing -his hands beneath his head, he watched the -smoke curl away toward the cracked and -flaking ceiling and gave himself up to his -thoughts.</p> - -<p>What an ass he had made of himself! -And what a trump the little lady had been! -He smiled as he recalled the manner in -which she had bossed him around. But -who the deuce was she? And who was the -young girl with the big brown eyes? What -were they doing here at Waynewood, in his -house? He wished he had not taken things -for granted as he had, wished he had made -inquiries before launching himself southward. -He must get hold of that Major Cass -and learn his bearings. Perhaps, after all, -there was some mistake and the place -didn’t belong to him at all! If that was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[88]</span> -the case he had made a pretty fool of himself -by walking in and fainting on the front -porch in that casual manner! But he -hoped mightily that there was no mistake, -for he had fallen in love at first sight with -the place. If it was his he would fix it up. -Then he sighed as he recollected that until -he got firmly on his feet again such a thing -was quite out of the question.</p> - -<p>The cigarette had burned itself down -and he tossed it onto the hearth. The light -was fading in the room. Through the open -windows, borne on the soft evening air, -came the faint tinkling of distant cow-bells. -For the rest the silence held profoundly -save for the gentle singing of the fire. -Winthrop turned on to his side, pillowed -his head in his hand and dropped to sleep. -So soundly he slept that when Uncle Ran -tiptoed in with his trunk and bag he never -stirred. The old negro nodded approvingly -from the foot of the bed, unstrapped -the trunk, laid a fresh log on the fire, and -tiptoed out again. When Winthrop finally -awoke he found a neat colored girl lighting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[89]</span> -the lamp, while beside it on the table a -well-filled tray was laid.</p> - -<p>“I fetched your supper, Mr. Winthrop,” -said Phœbe.</p> - -<div class="figright" id="i_p089"> - <img src="images/i_p089.jpg" alt="Phœbe" title="Phœbe"> -</div> - -<p>“Thank you, but I really meant to go -down. I—I think I fell asleep.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir. Miss Indy say good-night, -and she hopes you’ll sleep comfable, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Much obliged,” muttered Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“I’ll be back after awhile to fetch away -the tray, sir.”</p> - -<p>“All right.”</p> - -<p>When he was once more alone he arose -and laughed softly.</p> - -<p>“Confound the woman! She’s a regular -tyrant. I wonder if she’ll let me get up -to-morrow. Oh, well, maybe she’s right. -I don’t feel much like making conversation. -Hello! there’s my trunk; I must have -slept soundly, and that’s a fact!”</p> - -<p>Unlocking the trunk, he rummaged -through it until he found his dressing-gown -and slippers. With those on he -drew a chair to the table and began his -supper.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[90]</span></p> - -<p>“Nice diet for an invalid,” he thought, -amusedly, as he uncovered the hot biscuits.</p> - -<p>But he didn’t object to them, for he -found himself very hungry; spread with -the white, crumbly unsalted butter which -the repast provided he found them extremely -satisfactory. There was cold -chicken, besides, and egg soufflé, fig preserve -and marble cake, and a glass of milk. -Winthrop’s gaze lingered on the milk.</p> - -<p>“No coffee, eh?” he muttered. “Not -suitable for invalids, I suppose; milk much -better.”</p> - -<p>But when he had finished his meal the -glass of milk still remained untouched and -he observed it thoughtfully. “I fancy Miss -Wayne will see this tray when it goes down -and she’ll feel hurt because I haven’t -drunk that infernal stuff.” His gaze wandered -around the room until it encountered -the washstand. “Ah!” he said, as -he arose. When he returned to the table -the glass was quite empty. Digging his -pipe and pouch from his bag he filled the -former and was soon puffing enjoyably,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[91]</span> -leaning back in the easy-chair and watching -the smouldering fire.</p> - -<p>“Even if I have to get out of here,” he -reflected, “I dare say there’s a hotel or -boarding-house in the village where I could -put up. I’m not going back North yet -awhile, and that’s certain. But if there’s -anything wrong with my title to Waynewood -why shouldn’t they let me stay here -now that I’m established? That’s a good -idea, by Jove! I’ll get my trunk unpacked -right away; possession is nine points, they -say. I dare say these folks aren’t so well -off but what they’d be willing to take a -respectable gentleman to board.”</p> - -<p>A fluttering at his heart warned him and -he laid aside his half-smoked pipe regretfully -and began to unpack his trunk and -bag. In the midst of the task Phœbe appeared -to rearrange his bed and bear away -the tray, bidding him good-night in her -soft voice as she went.</p> - -<p>By half-past seven his things were in -place and, taking up one of the books -which he had brought with him, he settled<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[92]</span> -himself to read. But voices in the hall below -distracted his attention, and presently -footsteps sounded on the stairway, there -was a tap at his door and Phœbe appeared -again.</p> - -<p>“Excuse me, sir,” said Phœbe, “but Major -Cass say can he see you——”</p> - -<p>“Phœbe!” called the Major from below.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir?”</p> - -<p>“You tell Mr. Winthrop that if he’s feeling -too tired to see me to-night I’ll call -again to-morrow morning.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir.” Phœbe turned to Winthrop. -“The Major say——”</p> - -<p>“All right. Ask the Major to come up,” -interrupted Winthrop, tossing aside his -book and exchanging dressing-gown for -coat and waistcoat. A moment later the -Major’s halting tread sounded outside the -open door and Winthrop went forward to -meet him.</p> - -<p>“I’m honored to make your acquaintance, -Mr. Winthrop,” said the Major, as -they shook hands.</p> - -<p>“Glad to know you, Major,” replied<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[93]</span> -Winthrop. “Come in, please; try the arm-chair.”</p> - -<p>The Major bowed his thanks, laid his -cane across the table and accepted the -chair which Winthrop pushed forward. -Winthrop drew a second chair to the other -side of the fire-place.</p> - -<p>“A fire, Mr. Winthrop,” observed the -Major, “is very acceptable these cool evenings.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I haven’t felt the need of it myself,” -replied Winthrop, “but it was here -and it seemed a shame to waste it. I’ll -close the windows if you like.”</p> - -<p>“Not at all, not at all; I like fresh air. -I couldn’t have too much of it, sir, if it -wasn’t for this confounded rheumatism of -mine. With your permission, sir.” The -Major leaned forward and laid a fresh log -on the fire. Winthrop arose and quietly -closed the windows.</p> - -<p>“Do you smoke, Major? I have some -cigars here somewhere.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, sir, if they’re right -handy.” He accepted one, held it to his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>[94]</span> -nose and inhaled the aroma, smiled approvingly -and tucked it into a corner of his -mouth. “You’ll pardon me if I don’t light -it,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Certainly,” replied Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“I never learned to smoke, Mr. Winthrop,” -explained the Major, “and I -reckon I’m too old to begin now. But -when I was a boy, and afterwards, during -the war, I got a lot of comfort out of chewing, -sir. But it’s a dirty habit, sir, and I -had to give it up. The only way I use tobacco -now, sir, is in this way. It’s a compromise, -sir.” And he rolled the cigar -around enjoyably.</p> - -<p>“I see,” replied Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“I trust you are feeling recovered from -the effects of your arduous journey?” inquired -the Major.</p> - -<p>“Quite, thank you. I dare say Miss -Wayne told you what an ass I made of -myself when I arrived?”</p> - -<p>“You refer to your—ah—momentary indisposition? -Yes, Miss India informed -me, and I was very pleased to learn of it.”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>[95]</span> -Winthrop stared in surprise. “You are -feeling better now, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes; quite fit, thank you.”</p> - -<p>“I’m very glad to hear it. I must apologize -for not being at the station to welcome -you, sir, but I gathered from your letter -that you would not reach Corunna before -to-morrow, and I thought that perhaps you -would telegraph me again. I was obliged -to drive into the country this afternoon -on business, and only learned of your visit -to my office when I returned. I then took -the liberty of calling at the earliest moment.”</p> - -<p>“And I’m very glad you did,” answered -Winthrop, heartily. “There’s a good deal -I want to talk to you about.”</p> - -<p>“I am quite at your service, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks, Major. Now, in the first place, -where am I?”</p> - -<p>“Your pardon, Mr. Winthrop?” asked -the Major, startledly.</p> - -<p>“I mean,” answered the other, with a -smile, “is this Waynewood and does it belong -to me?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>[96]</span></p> - -<p>“This is certainly Waynewood, sir, and -I have gathered from your letter that you -had come into possession of it.”</p> - -<p>“All right. Then who, if I may ask the -question without seeming impertinent, who -are the ladies down-stairs?”</p> - -<p>“Ah, Mr. Winthrop, I understand your -question now,” returned the Major. “Allow -me to explain. I would have done so -before had there been opportunity, but -your letter said that you were leaving New -York at once and I presumed that there -would be no time for an answer to reach -you.”</p> - -<p>“Quite right, Major.”</p> - -<p>“The ladies are Miss India Wayne and -her niece, Miss Holly Wayne, sister and -daughter respectively of my very dear and -much lamented friend Captain Lamar -Wayne, whose home this was for many -years. At his death I found myself the -executor of his will, sir. He left this estate -and very little else but debts. I did the -best I could, Mr. Winthrop, but Waynewood -had to go. It was sold to a Judge<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>[97]</span> -Linderman of Georgia, a very estimable -gentleman and a shining light of the State -Bar. As he had no intention of living here -I made an arrangement with him whereby -Miss India and her niece might remain -here in their home, sir, paying a—a nominal -rent for the place.”</p> - -<p>“A very convenient arrangement, Major.”</p> - -<p>“I am glad to hear you say so,” replied -the Major, almost eagerly. “Judge Linderman, -however, was a consarned fool, -sir, and couldn’t let speculation alone. He -was caught in a cotton panic and absolutely -ruined. Waynewood then passed to your -late partner, Mr. Potter. The arrangement -in force before was extended with his -consent, and the ladies have continued to -reside here. They are paying”—(the Major -paused and spat voluminously into the -fire)—“they are paying, Mr. Winthrop, -the sum of five dollars a month rent.”</p> - -<p>“A fair figure, I presume, as rents go -hereabouts,” observed Winthrop, subduing -a smile.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>[98]</span></p> - -<p>The Major cleared his throat. Then he -leaned across and laid a large hand on -Winthrop’s knee.</p> - -<p>“A small price, Mr. Winthrop, and -that’s the truth. And I don’t deny that -after the property fell into Mr. Potter’s -hands I was troubled right smart by my -conscience. As long as it was Judge Linderman -it was all right; he was a Southerner, -one of us, and could understand. -No offense intended, Mr. Winthrop. But -afterwards when I wrote Mr. Potter of the -arrangement in force and—ah—suggested -its continuance, I felt that maybe I was -taking advantage of his absence from the -scene. To be sure the amount was all that -the ladies could afford to pay, and it isn’t -likely that Mr. Potter could have found -more satisfactory tenants. Still, I dare -say it was my place to tell him that the -figure was pretty cheap, and let him try -and do better with the property. I reckon -I allowed my interest in my clients to sway -my judgment, Mr. Winthrop. But I made -up my mind when I got your letter and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>[99]</span> -learned you were coming here that I’d explain -things to you, sir, and let you do as -you thought best.”</p> - -<p>“In regard to——?”</p> - -<p>“In regard to re-renting, sir.”</p> - -<p>“But I had intended occupying the house -myself, Major.”</p> - -<p>“So I gathered, sir, so I gathered. But -of course you couldn’t know what the circumstances -were, Mr. Winthrop. It isn’t as -though the place was family property, sir, -with you; not as though it was your birthplace -and home. It’s just a house and a few -acres of ground to you, sir; it has no—ah—sentimental -value. You follow me, sir?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and you are beginning to make -me feel like an interloper, Major Cass.”</p> - -<p>“God forbid, sir! I had no such intention, -I assure you, sir. I am sure no one -could be more welcome at any time to -Waynewood, and I trust, sir, that we shall -often have the pleasure of seeing you here, -sir.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop’s laugh held a touch of exasperation.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>[100]</span></p> - -<p>“But, Great Scott! Major, you’re proposing -to turn me out of my own house!”</p> - -<p>“Bless your soul, sir, don’t say that! -Dear, dear! Does it sound that way to -you? My apologies, Mr. Winthrop! I -won’t say another word, sir!”</p> - -<p>The Major rolled the cigar agitatedly -about in the corner of his loose mouth.</p> - -<p>“Look here,” said Winthrop, “let’s understand -each other, Major. I have come -into possession of this property and we’ll -allow for the sake of the argument that it -holds no sentimental value for me. Now -what do you propose I should do? Sign a -new rental and pack up my things and go -home again?”</p> - -<p>“Nothing of the kind, sir, I assure you! -What I meant to convey was that as you -were intending to stay here in Corunna -only two or three months, you could perhaps -be quite as comfortable in the Palmetto -House as at Waynewood. The Palmetto -House, sir, is a very well-managed -hotel, sir, and you would receive the most -hospitable treatment.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>[101]</span></p> - -<p>“Thanks for your frankness, Major. -This Palmetto House is in the village?”</p> - -<p>“It is, sir. It faces the court-house on -the south.”</p> - -<p>“And it has a large garden in front -of it, with trees and vines and roses -and a marble Cupid dancing in a bed of -box?”</p> - -<p>The Major shook his head regretfully.</p> - -<p>“Well, Major, the place I’ve taken a -fancy to boasts of just those attractions. -Don’t you think that perhaps we could -somehow arrange it so that I could stay -there?”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean, sir, that you would be -willing to remain here as—as a paying -guest?” asked the Major, eagerly.</p> - -<p>Winthrop shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“Why not? If the ladies are agreeable. -At first sight there may be something a -trifle anomalous in the idea of the owner -of a property who has journeyed several -hundred miles to occupy it petitioning for -the privilege of being allowed to remain as -a boarder, but, of course, I have the limitations<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>[102]</span> -of the Northerner and doubtless fail -to get the correct point of view.”</p> - -<p>But Winthrop’s irony was quite lost on -the Major.</p> - -<p>“My dear sir, you have taken a great -load from my mind,” exclaimed the latter. -“I had hoped that the difficulty might be -surmounted in just the way you propose, -but somehow I gathered after meeting you -that you—ah—resented the presence of the -ladies.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” said Winthrop, a trifle impatiently. -“Miss Wayne and her niece are -quite welcome to remain here as long as -they like. I was, however, naturally surprised -to find anyone in possession. By -all means let us renew the rental agreement. -Meanwhile, if the ladies are agreeable, -I will remain here and pay board and -room-rent. I dare say my visit will not -cover more than three months. And I will -try to be as little trouble as possible.”</p> - -<p>“Then the matter is settled,” answered -the Major, with a gratified smile. “Unless——” -He paused.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>[103]</span></p> - -<p>“More difficulties?” asked Winthrop, -patiently.</p> - -<p>“I hope not, sir, but I won’t deny that -Miss India may spoil our plans.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter2" id="i_p104"> - <img src="images/i_p104.jpg" alt="Miss India Wayne" title="Miss India Wayne"> -</div> - -<p>“You mean that she may not want to -take a boarder?”</p> - -<p>“Well, it’s this way, Mr. Winthrop.” -The Major cleared his throat. “Miss -Wayne has always been prejudiced against -Northerners, but——”</p> - -<p>“Really? But she seemed kindness itself -this afternoon.”</p> - -<p>“I’m delighted to hear it, sir, delighted! -And allow me to say, Mr. Winthrop, sir, -that you couldn’t have played a stronger -card than you did.”</p> - -<p>“Card? What do you mean, Major?”</p> - -<p>“I mean that in losing consciousness as -you did, sir, you accomplished more than I -could have accomplished in an hour’s argument. -It was very well done, sir, for I assure -you that it was only by representing -you as an invalid that I was able to prevail -on Miss India to remain here, sir, until -your arrival. When I found that I had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>[104]</span> -missed you at the office I feared that you -would perhaps unwittingly give the impression -of being a—a well man, sir, and -thus prejudice the lady against you. But -as it happened, sir, you played just the -card calculated to win the trick.”</p> - -<p>“But, Great Scott!” exclaimed Winthrop, -exasperatedly; “you don’t think for -a moment, do you, that I deliberately simulated<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>[105]</span> -illness in order to work on her sympathies?”</p> - -<p>“Of course not,” said the Major, earnestly. -“How could you have known? No, -no; I merely congratulated you on the fortunate—ah—coincidence, -sir.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! Then I am to understand that as -a well man Miss Wayne will refuse to harbor -me, but as an invalid she will consent -to do so—for a consideration?”</p> - -<p>“Exactly, Mr. Winthrop; that is just -how it stands, sir.”</p> - -<p>“And having once been accepted will it -be necessary for me to continue to pose as -an invalid for the rest of my stay?” he -asked dryly.</p> - -<p>“We-ell,” answered the Major, hesitatingly, -“I don’t deny that it would help, -but I don’t reckon it’ll be absolutely necessary, -sir.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop smiled.</p> - -<p>“I’m glad to hear it, for I’m rather tired -of being an invalid, and I don’t think I -should enjoy even making believe for very -long. May I ask whether Miss Wayne’s<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>[106]</span> -dislike for persons from my section of the -country is ineradicable, Major?”</p> - -<p>“I sincerely hope not, sir!” replied the -Major, earnestly. “Her brother’s views -on the subject were very—ah—settled, sir, -and Miss India had the highest respect for -his opinions. But she has never had the -fortune, I believe, to meet with a real -Northern gentleman, Mr. Winthrop.” -And the Major bowed courteously.</p> - -<p>“And the niece? Miss——?”</p> - -<p>“Holly, sir. Well, she is guided largely -by her Aunt, Mr. Winthrop, and doubtless -clings to many of her father’s convictions, -but she has a well-developed sense of justice -and a warm heart, sir, and I believe -her prejudices can be dispelled.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I appear to be in the enemy’s -country, with a vengeance,” said Winthrop. -“How about you, Major? Are you -also down on us?”</p> - -<p>“No, Mr. Winthrop. I don’t deny, sir, -that shortly after the war I felt resentment, -but that sentiment has long since -disappeared. I am honored with the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>[107]</span> -friendship of several very estimable Northern -gentlemen, sir. Nor must you think -the sentiment hereabouts prejudicial to -your people, Mr. Winthrop. Corunna -is off the track of the tourist, to be sure; -we have no special attractions here; no big -hotels, sir, to cater to him; but once in a -while a Northerner wanders to our town -and we have grown to appreciate his many -very excellent qualities, sir.”</p> - -<p>“That’s comforting. I had begun to feel -like a pariah.”</p> - -<p>“My dear sir!” expostulated the Major. -“Disabuse your mind of such wrong ideas, -Mr. Winthrop. I shall take pleasure in -convincing you that any ill-feeling engendered -by the late unpleasantness has quite -passed away. I shall esteem it a great -privilege to be allowed to introduce you to -some of our more prominent citizens, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you very much,” answered Winthrop. -“The privilege will be mine, Major. -Must you go?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, we mustn’t forget that you are not -yet as strong as we hope to have you after<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>[108]</span> -you have been under the treatment of our -climate for awhile, sir. Good-night, Mr. -Winthrop. I have enjoyed our little talk, -and it has been a pleasure to meet a gentleman -of your attainments, sir.”</p> - -<p>“You are very good,” Winthrop replied. -“It has been a pleasure to meet you, Major. -And may I leave the negotiations in -your hands?”</p> - -<p>“You may, sir. I hope to be able to inform -you to-morrow that our plan is successful.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. And in regard to the price to be -paid, Major; I’ll leave that entirely with -you as I haven’t any idea what is right.”</p> - -<p>“You may do so, sir. And possibly -some day at your convenience you will -drop in at my office and we will attend to -the matter of the new lease?”</p> - -<p>“With pleasure, Major. Good-night, -sir.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop remained at the door until the -Major had reached the lower hall. Then -he closed it and, hands in his pockets, returned -to the fire-place and stared frowningly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>[109]</span> -into the coals. Mechanically he -reached his pipe from the mantel and -lighted it with an ember. And presently, -as he smoked, the frown disappeared and -he laughed softly.</p> - -<p>“Of all the ridiculous situations!” he -muttered.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>[110]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VI">VI.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>Holly came softly down the stairs, one -small hand laid upon the broad mahogany -rail to steady her descent, her little slippered -feet twinkling in and out from beneath -the hem of her gingham skirt, her -lithe young body swaying in unconscious -rhythm with the song she was singing under -her breath. It was not yet seven -o’clock, and no one save the servants was -astir. Holly had always been an early -riser, and when the weather permitted the -hour before breakfast was spent by her in -the open air. On warm mornings she kept -to the grateful shade of the porch, perching -herself on the joggling-board and gently -jouncing herself up and down the while she -stared thoughtfully out across the garden -into the cool green gloom of the grove, an -exercise undoubtedly beneficial to the liver -but one which would have resulted with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>[111]</span> -most persons in a total disinclination for -breakfast. On those terribly cold winter -mornings when the water-pail on the back -porch showed a film of ice, she slipped -down the oleander -path and out -on to the road -for a brisk walk -or huddled herself -in a sun-warmed -corner -at the back of the house. But this morning, -which held neither the heat of summer -nor the tang of frost, when, after unlatching -the front door and swinging it creakingly -open, she emerged on to the porch, -she stood for a moment in the deep shadow -of it, gazing happily down upon the -pleasant scene before her.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p111"> - <img src="images/i_p111.jpg" alt="Waynewood" title="Waynewood"> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>[112]</span></p> - -<p>Directly in front of her spread the fragrant -quadrangle of the garden, the paths, -edged with crumbling bricks set cantwise -in the dark soil, curving and angling between -the beds in formal precision. In -the centre, out of a tangle of rose-bushes -and box, the garlanded Cupid, tinged to -pale gold by the early sunlight, smiled -across at her. About him clustered tender -blooms of old-fashioned roses, and the path -was sprinkled with the fallen petals. Beyond, -the long tunnel between the oleanders -was still filled with the lingering shadows -of dawn. To right and left of the centre -bed lay miniature jungles of overgrown -shrubs; roses, deutzias, cape jasmines, -Japan quinces, sweet shrubs and all the -luxuriant hodge-podge of a Southern garden -somewhat run to seed, a little down at -the heels maybe, but radiantly beautiful -in its very disorder.</p> - -<div class="figleft" id="i_p114a"> - <img src="images/i_p114a.jpg" alt="flowers" title="flowers"> -</div> - -<p>On the far side, the garden was bordered -with taller shrubs—crépe-myrtles, mimosas, -camelias, which merged imperceptibly -into the trees of the grove. To the right,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>[113]</span> -beyond the bordering path, a few pear-trees -showed their naked branches and a -tall frankincense tree threw delicate shadow-tracery -over the corner bed. To the -left were Japan plums and pomegranates -and figs, half hiding the picket fence, and -a few youthful orange-trees, descendants -of sturdy ancestors who had lost their lives -in the freeze three years before. A huge -magnolia spread its shapely branches over -one of the beds, its trunk encircled by a -tempting seat. Ribbon-grass swayed gently -here and there above the rioting shrubbery, -and at the corner of the porch, where -a gate gave on to the drive, a clump of banana-trees, -which had almost but not quite -borne fruit that year, reared their succulent -green stems in a sunny nook and -arched their great broad leaves, torn and -ribboned by the winds, with tropical effect. -Near at hand, against the warm red -chimney, climbed a Baltimore Belle, festooning -the end of the house for yards -with its tiny, glossy leaves. The shadow -of the house cut the garden sharply into<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>[114]</span> -two triangles, the dividing line between -sunlight and shade crossing the pedestal -of the smiling Cupid. Everywhere glistened -diamonds of dew, and over all, growing -more intense each instant as the sunlight -and warmth grew in ardor, was the -thrilling fragrance of the roses and the -box, of damp earth and awakening leaves.</p> - -<div class="figcenter2" id="i_p114b"> - <img src="images/i_p114b.jpg" alt="more flowers" title="more flowers"> -</div> - -<p>While Holly’s mother had lived the garden -had been her pride and delight. It had -been known to fame all through that part -of the State and the beauty of the Wayne -roses was a proverb. But now the care -of it fell to Uncle Ran, together with the -care of a bewildering number of other -things, and Uncle Ran had neither the time -nor the knowledge to maintain its former -perfection. Holly loved it devotedly, knew -it from corner to corner. At an earlier -age she had plucked the blossoms for dolls -and played with them for long hours on -the seat under the magnolia. The full-blown -roses were grown-up ladies, with -beautiful outspread skirts of pink, white -or yellow, and little green waists. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>[115]</span> -half-opened roses were young ladies, and -tiny white violets, or waxen orange-blooms -or little blossoms of the deutzia were the -babies. For the men, although Holly seldom -bothered much with men, there were -the jonquils or the oleanders. She knew -well where the first blue violets were to be -found, where the white jonquils broke first -from their green calyces, where the little -yellow balls of the opopanax were sweetest, -what rose-petals were best adapted to -being formed into tiny sacs and exploded -against the forehead, and many other wonderful -secrets of that fair domain. But -in spite of all this, Holly was no gardener.</p> - -<div class="figright" id="i_p115"> - <img src="images/i_p115.jpg" alt="still more flowers" title="still more flowers"> -</div> - -<p>She loved flowers just as she loved the -deep blue Florida sky with its hazy edges, -the soft wind from the Gulf, the golden -sunlight, the birds and bees and butterflies—just -as she loved everything that -was quickened with the wonderful breath -of Nature. There was something of the -pagan in Holly when it came to devotion -to Nature. And yet she had no ability to -make things grow. From her mother she<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>[116]</span> -had inherited the love of trees and plants -and flowers but not the gift of understanding -them. Doubtless the Druids, with all -their veneration for the -oak and mistletoe, -would have been sorely -puzzled had they had to -rear their leafy temples -from planted acorns.</p> - -<div class="figleft" id="i_p116"> - <img src="images/i_p116.jpg" alt="Holly with pink roses" title="Holly with pink roses"> -</div> - -<p>Holly went down the -steps and, holding her -gown away from the -moisture-beaded -branches, buried her -face in a cluster of pink -roses. Then, struck by -a thought, she returned -to the house, reappearing -a moment later with -her hands encased in a pair of old gloves, -and carrying scissors.</p> - -<p>Aunt India didn’t believe in bringing -flowers into the house. “If the Lord had -intended us to have them on the tables and -mantels,” she said, “He’d have put them<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>[117]</span> -there. But He didn’t; He meant them to -be out of doors and we ought to be satisfied -to admire them where He’s put them.” -Usually Holly respected -her Aunt’s prejudice, but -to-day seemed in a way a -special occasion. The -Cloth of Gold roses -seemed crying to be gathered, -and their stems -snipped gratefully under -the scissors as she made -her way along the edge of -the bed. Her hands were -almost full of the big yellow -blooms when footsteps -sounded on the -porch and she glanced up -to see Winthrop descending the steps. -She wondered with sudden dismay whether -she was going to blush as she had yesterday, -and, for fear that she was, leaned far -over the refractory cluster she was cutting. -Winthrop’s footsteps approached along -the sandy walk, and—</p> - -<div class="figright" id="i_p117"> - <img src="images/i_p117.jpg" alt="Mr. Winthrop" title="Mr. Winthrop"> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>[118]</span></p> - -<p>“Good-morning, Miss Holly,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Good-morning,” answered Holly, and, -having won her prize started to straighten -up. “I hope——”</p> - -<p>But instead of finishing the polite inquiry -she said “<em>Oh!</em>” A branch of the -rose-bush had caught in her hair, and the -more she tugged the more firmly it held.</p> - -<p>“Still a moment,” said Winthrop. He -leaned over and disentangled the thorns. -“There you are. I hope I didn’t pull very -hard?”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” murmured Holly, raising -a very red face. Winthrop, looking down -into it, smiled; smiled for no particular -reason, save that the morning air was very -delightful, the morning sunlight very warm -and cheering, and the face before him very -lovely to look at. But Holly, painfully -aware of her burning cheeks, thought he -was smiling at her blushes. “What a silly -he must think me!” she reflected, angrily. -“Blushing every time he comes near!” -She busied herself with the roses for a moment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>[119]</span></p> - -<p>“You’ve got more than you can manage, -haven’t you?” asked Winthrop. “Suppose -you entrust them to me; then you’ll -have your hands free.”</p> - -<p>“I can manage very nicely, thank you,” -answered Holly, a trifle haughtily.</p> - -<p>Winthrop’s smile deepened.</p> - -<p>“Do you know what I think, Miss -Holly?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Holly, looking about her in a -very preoccupied way in search of more -blossoms.</p> - -<p>“I think you’re a little bit resentful because -I’ve come to share your Eden. I believe -you were playing that you were Eve -and that you were all alone here except -for the serpent.”</p> - -<p>“Playing!” said Holly, warmly. -“Please, how old do you think I am, Mr. -Winthrop?”</p> - -<p>“My dear young lady,” answered Winthrop, -gravely, “I wouldn’t think of even -speculating on so serious a subject. But -supposing you are very, very old, say seventeen—or -even eighteen!—still you<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>[120]</span> -haven’t, I hope, got beyond the age of -make-believe. Why, even I—and, as you -will readily see, I have one foot almost in -the grave—even I sometimes make-believe.”</p> - -<p>“Do you?” murmured Holly, very -coldly.</p> - -<p>There was silence for a moment during -which Holly added further prizes to her -store and Winthrop followed her and -watched her in mingled admiration and -amusement—admiration for the grace and -beauty and sheer youth of her, amusement -at her evident resentment.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry,” he said presently, slowly -and thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“At what?” Holly allowed herself a -fleeting look at his face. It was very serious -and regretful, but the smile still lurked -in the dark eyes, and Holly’s vanity flew -to arms again.</p> - -<p>“Sorry that I’ve said something to displease -you,” returned Winthrop. “You -see, I was hoping to make friends with you, -Miss Holly.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>[121]</span></p> - -<p>Holly thought of a dozen questions to -ask, but heroically refrained.</p> - -<p>“I gathered from Major Cass last evening,” -continued Winthrop, “that Northerners -are not popular at Waynewood. -But you seemed a very kind young lady, -and I thought that if I could only win you -over to my side you might intercede for -me with your aunt. You see, I’d like very -much to stay here, but I’m afraid Miss -Wayne isn’t going to take to the idea. And -now I’ve gone and antagonized the very -person I meant to win for an ally.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see why you can’t stay here if -you want to,” answered Holly. “Waynewood -belongs to you.”</p> - -<p>“But what would I do here all alone?” -asked Winthrop. “I’m a frightfully helpless, -ignorant chap. Why, I don’t even -know how to cook a beefsteak! And as -for beaten biscuit——!”</p> - -<p>Holly smiled, in spite of herself.</p> - -<p>“But you could hire some servants, I -reckon.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I shouldn’t know how to manage<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>[122]</span> -them, really. No, the only way in which -I can remain here is as your guest, Miss -Holly. I’ve asked Major Cass to tell Miss -Wayne that, and I’ve no doubt but what he -will do all he can for me, but I fancy that -a word from you would help a lot, Miss -Holly. Don’t you think you could tell your -aunt that I am a very respectable sort of a -fellow, one who has never been known to -give any trouble? I have been with some -of the best families and I can give references -from my last place, if necessary.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon you don’t know Aunt India,” -laughed Holly. “If she says you can’t -stay, you can’t, and it wouldn’t do a mite -of good if I talked myself black in the -face.”</p> - -<p>Holly turned toward the house and he -followed.</p> - -<p>“You think, then,” he asked, “that -there’s nothing more we can do to influence -Fate in my behalf?”</p> - -<div class="figleft" id="i_p124"> - <img src="images/i_p124.jpg" alt="Holly" title="Holly"> -</div> - -<p>Holly ran lightly up the steps, tossed the -flowers in a heap on the porch, and sat -down with her back against a pillar. Then<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>[123]</span> -she pointed to the opposite side of the -steps.</p> - -<p>“Sit down there,” she commanded.</p> - -<div class="figright" id="i_p125"> - <img src="images/i_p125.jpg" alt="Robert" title="Robert"> -</div> - -<p>Winthrop bowed and obeyed. Holly -clasped her hands about her knees, and -looked across at him with merry eyes.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Winthrop.”</p> - -<p>“Madam?”</p> - -<p>“What will you give me if I let you -stay?”</p> - -<p>“Pardon my incredulity,” replied Winthrop, -“but is your permission all that is -necessary?”</p> - -<p>Holly nodded her head many times.</p> - -<p>“If I say you can stay, you can,” she -said, decisively.</p> - -<p>“Then in exchange for your permission -I will give you half my kingdom,” answered -Winthrop, gravely.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t think I could use half a -kingdom. It would be like owning half a -horse, wouldn’t it? Supposing I wanted -my half to go and the other half -wouldn’t?”</p> - -<p>“Then take it all.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>[124]</span></p> - -<p>“No, because I reckon your kingdom’s -up North, and I wouldn’t want a kingdom -I couldn’t live in. It will have to be something -else, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“And I have so little with me,” -mourned Winthrop. “I dare say you -wouldn’t have any use for a winter overcoat -or a pair of patent-leather shoes? -They’re about all I have to offer.”</p> - -<p>“No,” laughed Holly; “anyhow, not the -overcoat. Do you think the shoes would -fit me?”</p> - -<p>She advanced one little slippered foot -from beyond the hem of her skirt. Winthrop -looked, and shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Honestly, I’m afraid not,” he said. -“I don’t believe I ever saw a shoe that -would fit you, Miss Holly.”</p> - -<p>Holly acknowledged the compliment -with a ceremonious bow and a little laugh.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know you Northerners could -pay compliments,” she said.</p> - -<p>“We are a very adaptable people,” answered -Winthrop, “and pride ourselves on -being able to face any situation.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>[125]</span></p> - -<p>“But you haven’t told me what you’ll -give me, Mr. Winthrop.”</p> - -<p>“I have exhausted my treasures, Miss -Holly. There remains only myself. I -throw myself at your feet, my dear young -lady; I will be your slave for life.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I thought you Northerners didn’t -believe in slavery,” said Holly.</p> - -<p>“We don’t believe in compulsory slavery, -Miss Holly. To be a slave to Beauty -is always a pleasure.”</p> - -<p>“Another compliment!” cried Holly. -“Two before breakfast!”</p> - -<p>“And the day is still young,” laughed -Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I won’t demand any more, Mr. -Winthrop; you’ve done your duty already.”</p> - -<p>“As you like; I am your slave.”</p> - -<p>“How lovely! I never had a slave before,” -said Holly, reflectively.</p> - -<p>“I fear your memory is poor, Miss -Holly. I’ll wager you’ve had, and doubtless -still have, a score of them quite as -willing as I.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>[126]</span></p> - -<p>Holly blushed a little, but shook her -head.</p> - -<p>“Not I. But it’s a bargain, Mr. Winthrop. -I won’t keep you for life, though; -when you leave here I’ll give you your -‘freedance,’ as the negroes say. But while -you are here you are to do just as I tell -you. Will you?” she added, sternly.</p> - -<p>“I obey implicitly,” answered Winthrop. -“And now?”</p> - -<p>“Why, you may stay, of course. Besides, -it was all arranged last evening. -Uncle Major and Auntie fixed it all up between -them after he came down from seeing -you. You are to have the room you -are in and the one back of it, if you want -it, and you are to pay three dollars and -a-half a week; one dollar for your room -and two dollars and a-half for your -board.”</p> - -<p>“But—isn’t that——?”</p> - -<p>“Please don’t!” begged Holly. “I -don’t know anything about it. If it’s too -much, you must speak to Aunt India or -Major Cass.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>[127]</span></p> - -<p>“I was about to suggest that it seemed -ridiculously little,” said Winthrop. -“But——”</p> - -<p>“Gracious!” exclaimed Holly. “Uncle -Major thought it ought to be more, but -Auntie wouldn’t hear of it. Do you think -it should be?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’m scarcely a disinterested -party,” laughed Winthrop, “but it doesn’t -sound much, does it?”</p> - -<p>“Three dollars and a-half!” said Holly, -slowly and thoughtfully. Then she nodded -her head vigorously. “Yes, it sounds a -whole lot.” She laughed softly. “It’s -very funny, though, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“What?” he asked, smiling in sympathy.</p> - -<p>“Why, that you should be paying three -dollars and a-half a week for the privilege -of being a slave!”</p> - -<p>“Ah, but that’s it,” answered Winthrop. -“It is a privilege, as you say.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” cried Holly, in simulated alarm. -“You’re at it again, Mr. Winthrop!”</p> - -<p>“At it? At what?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>[128]</span></p> - -<p>“Compliments, compliments, sir! You’ll -have none left for this evening if you don’t -take care. Just think; you might meet a -beautiful young lady this evening and not -have any compliments for her! Wouldn’t -that be dreadful?”</p> - -<p>“Horrible,” answered Winthrop. “I -shudder.”</p> - -<p>“Are you hungry?” asked Holly, suddenly.</p> - -<p>“Hungry? No—yes—I hardly know.”</p> - -<p>“You’re probably starving, then,” said -Holly, jumping up and sweeping the roses -into her arms. “I’ll see if breakfast isn’t -nearly ready. Auntie doesn’t come down -to breakfast very often, and it’s my place -to see that it’s on time. But I never do, -and it never is. Do you love punctuality, -Mr. Winthrop?”</p> - -<p>“Can’t bear it, Miss Holly.”</p> - -<p>She stood a little way off, smiling down -at him, a soft flush in her cheeks.</p> - -<p>“You always say just the right thing, -don’t you?” She laughed. “How do you -manage it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>[129]</span></p> - -<p>“Long practice, my dear young lady. -When you’ve lived as long as I have you -will have discovered that it is much better -to say the right thing than the wrong—even -when the right thing isn’t altogether -right.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I reckon so, but—sometimes it’s -an awful temptation to say the wrong, isn’t -it? Are you awfully old? May I guess?”</p> - -<p>“I shall be flattered.”</p> - -<p>“Then—forty?”</p> - -<p>Winthrop sighed loudly.</p> - -<p>“Too much? Wait! Thirty—thirty-seven?”</p> - -<p>“Thirty-eight.”</p> - -<p>“Is that very old? I shall be eighteen -in a few days.”</p> - -<p>“Really? Then, you see, I have already -lived twice as long as you have.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” Holly nodded, thoughtfully. -“Do you know, I don’t think I want to live -to be real, real old; I think I’d rather die -before—before that.”</p> - -<p>“And what do you call real, real old?” -asked Winthrop.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>[130]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh, I don’t know; fifty, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“Then I have twelve years longer to -live,” said Winthrop, gravely.</p> - -<p>Holly turned a pair of startled eyes upon -him.</p> - -<p>“No, no! It’s different with you; you’re -a man.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that makes a difference?”</p> - -<p>“Lots! Men can do heaps of things, -great, big things, after they’re old, but a -woman——” She paused and shrugged -her shoulders in a funny, exaggerated -way that Winthrop thought charming. -“What is there for a woman when she’s -that old?”</p> - -<p>“Much,” answered Winthrop, gravely, -“if she has been a wise woman. There -should be her children to love and to love -her, and if she has married the right man -there will be that love, too, in the afternoon -of her life.”</p> - -<p>“Children,” murmured Holly. “Yes, -that would be nice; but they wouldn’t be -children then, would they? And—supposing -they died before? The woman would<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>[131]</span> -be terribly lonely, wouldn’t she—in the -afternoon?”</p> - -<p>Winthrop turned his face away and -looked out across the sunlit garden.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said, very soberly; “yes, she -would be lonely.”</p> - -<p>Something in his tones drew Holly’s attention. -How deep the lines about his -mouth were this morning, and how gray -the hair was at his temples; she had not -noticed it before. Yes, after all, thirty-eight -was quite old. That thought or some -other moved her to a sudden sentiment of -pity. Impulsively she tore one of the big -yellow roses from the bunch and with her -free hand tossed it into his lap.</p> - -<p>“Do you know, Mr. Winthrop,” she said, -softly, “I reckon we’re going to be friends, -you and I,—that is, if you want to.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop sprang to his feet, the rose in -his hand.</p> - -<p>“I do want to, Miss Holly,” he said, -earnestly. Somehow, before she realized -it, Holly’s hand was in his. “I want it -very much. I haven’t very many friends,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>[132]</span> -I guess, and when one gets toward forty he -doesn’t find them as easily as he did. Is -it a bargain, then? We are to be friends, -very good friends, Miss Holly?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered Holly, simply, “very -good friends.”</p> - -<p>Her dark eyes looked seriously into his -for a moment. Then she withdrew her -hand, laughed softly under her breath and -turned toward the door. But on the threshold -she looked back over her shoulder, -the old mischief in her face.</p> - -<p>“But don’t you go and forget that -you’re my slave, Mr. Winthrop,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Never! You have fettered me with -roses.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>[133]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VII">VII.</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="figcenter2" id="i_p133"> - <img src="images/i_p133.jpg" alt="Holly and Robert at breakfast" title="Holly and Robert at breakfast"> -</div> - -<p>Miss India made no exception that morning -to her general rule, and Holly presided -over the coffee cups. The table was rather -large, and although Winthrop’s place was -in the middle, facing the open door onto -the back porch, there was quite an expanse -of emptiness between him and his hostess. -Through the door and across the bridge to -the kitchen Phœbe trotted at minute intervals -to bring fresh relays of hot biscuits -and buckwheat cakes. The dining-room -was rather shabby. The walls were papered -in dark brown, and the floor was covered<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>[134]</span> -with linoleum. A mahogany sideboard, -which took up quite ten feet of one -end of the room, looked sadly out of its -element. Three pictures in tarnished gilt -frames hung by thick green cords very -close to the ceiling, so that Winthrop was -spared the necessity of close examination, -something which they did not invite. But -for all its shabbiness there was something -comfortable about the room, something -homey that made the old dishes with their -chipped edges and half-obliterated ornamentation -seem eminently suitable, and -that gave Winthrop a distinct sensation of -pleasure.</p> - -<p>He found that, in spite of his previous -uncertainty, he was very hungry, and, although -he had hard work to keep from -grimacing over the first taste of the coffee, -he ate heartily and enjoyed it all. And -while he ate, Holly talked. Sometimes he -slipped in a word of comment or a question, -but they were not necessary so far as -Holly was concerned. There was something -almost exciting for her in the situation.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>[135]</span> -To have an audience who was quite -fresh and sympathetic was an event in her -life, and there are so many, many things -one has to say at eighteen. And Winthrop -enjoyed it almost as much as Holly. Her -<em>naive</em> views of life amused even while they -touched him. She seemed very young for -her age, and very unsophisticated after -the Northern girls Winthrop knew. And -he found her voice and pronunciation -charming, besides. He loved the way she -made “I” sound like “Ah,” the way she -narrowed some vowels and broadened others, -her absolute contempt for the letter -“r.” The soft drawl of Southern speech -was new to him, and he found it fascinating. -Once Holly stopped abruptly in the -middle of a sentence, laid her left hand -palm downwards on the edge of the table -and struck her knuckles sharply with the -handle of her knife.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?” inquired Winthrop, -in surprise.</p> - -<p>“Punishment,” answered Holly, gravely, -the chastised hand held against her<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>[136]</span> -lips. “You see there are three words that -Auntie doesn’t like me to use, and when -I do use them I rap my knuckles.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” smiled Winthrop, “and does it -help?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t reckon it’s helped much yet,” -said Holly, “but maybe it will. It sure -does hurt, though.”</p> - -<p>“And may I ask what the words are?”</p> - -<p>“One is ‘Fiddle.’ Does that sound very -bad to you?”</p> - -<p>“N-no, I think not. What does it signify, -please?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you just say ‘Fiddle’ when—when -something happens you don’t like.”</p> - -<p>“I see; ‘Fiddle;’ yes, quite expressive. -And the others?”</p> - -<p>“‘Shucks’ is one of them.”</p> - -<p>“Used, I fancy, in much the same sense -as ‘Fiddle’?”</p> - -<p>Holly nodded.</p> - -<p>“Only—only not so much so,” she -added.</p> - -<p>“Certainly not,” replied Winthrop. “I -understand. For instance, if you fell down<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>[137]</span> -stairs you’d say ‘Fiddle!’ but if you -merely bumped your head you’d say -‘Shucks!’”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” laughed Holly.</p> - -<p>“And the third prohibited word?” asked -Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“That’s—that’s——” Holly bent her -head very meekly over her plate—“that’s -‘Darnation!’”</p> - -<p>“Expressive, at least,” laughed Winthrop. -“That is reserved, I suppose, for -such extraordinary occasions as when you -fall from a sixth-story window?”</p> - -<p>“No; I say that when I stick a needle -into my finger,” answered Holly. “It -seems to suit better than ‘Fiddle’ or -‘Shucks;’ don’t you think so, Mr. Winthrop?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t remember ever having -stuck a needle into my finger, but I’ll try -it some time and give you my candid opinion -on the question.”</p> - -<p>After breakfast Winthrop wandered out -into the garden and from thence into the -grove beyond. There were pines and cedars<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>[138]</span> -here, and oaks, and other trees which -he didn’t know the names of. The gray-green -Spanish moss draped an occasional -limb, and at times there was some underbrush. -Finding the drive, he followed it -toward the gate, but before reaching the -latter he struck off again through a clearing -and climbed a little knoll on the summit -of which a small brick-walled enclosure -guarded by three huge oaks attracted his -attention and aroused his curiosity. But -he didn’t open the little iron gate when -he reached it. Within the square enclosure -were three graves, two close together -near at hand, one somewhat removed. -From where he leaned across the crumbling -wall Winthrop could read the inscriptions -on the three simple headstones. -The farther grave was that of “John -Wayne, born Fairfield, Kentucky, Feb. 1, -1835; fell at Malvern Hill, July 1, 1862; interred -in this spot July 28, 1862.”</p> - -<p>The nearer of the two graves which lay -together was that, as Winthrop surmised, -of Holly’s mother. Behind the headstone<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>[139]</span> -a rose-bush had been planted, and this -morning one tiny bloom gleamed wanly in -the shadow of the wall. “To the Beloved -Memory of Margaret Britton, Wife of Lamar -Wayne; Sept. 3, 1853–Jan. 1, 1881. -Aged 27 years. ‘The balmy zephyrs, silent -since her death, Lament the ceasing of -a sweeter breath.’”</p> - -<p>Winthrop’s gaze turned to the stone beside -it.</p> - -<p>“Here lies,”—he read—“the Body of -Captain Lamar Wayne, C. S. A., who -was born in Fairfield, Kentucky, Aug, 4, -1842, and died at Waynewood, Sept. 21, -1892, aged 50 years. ‘Happier for me that -all our hours assign’d, Together we had -lived; ev’n not in death disjoined.’”</p> - -<p>Here, thought Winthrop, was hint of a -great love. He compared the dates. Captain -Wayne had lived twelve years after -his wife’s death. Winthrop wondered if -those years had seemed long to him. Probably -not, since he had Holly to care for—Holly, -whom Winthrop doubted not, was -very greatly like her mother. To have the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>[140]</span> -child spared to him! Ah, that was much. -Winthrop’s eyes lifted from the quiet -space before him and sought the distant -skyline as his thoughts went to another -grave many hundred miles away. A mocking-bird -flew into one of the oaks and sang -a few tentative notes, and then was silent. -Winthrop roused himself with a sigh and -turned back down the knoll toward the -house, which stood smiling amidst its -greenery a few hundred yards away.</p> - -<p>As he entered the hall he heard Holly -in converse with Aunt Venus on the back -porch, and as he glanced through the doorway -she moved into sight, her form silhouetted -against the sunlight glare. But he -gave her only a passing thought as he -mounted the stairs to his room. The spell -of the little graveyard on the knoll and of -that other more distant one was still with -him, and remained until, having got his -hat and cane, he passed through the open -gate and turned townward on the red clay -road.</p> - -<p>Major Cass was seated in his cushioned<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>[141]</span> -arm-chair with his feet on his desk and a -sheepskin-covered book spread open on his -knees when Winthrop obeyed the invitation -to enter.</p> - -<p>“Ah, Mr. Winthrop, sir, good-morning,” -said the Major, as he tossed the book on to -the desk and climbed to his feet. “Your -rest has done you good, sir; I can see that. -Feeling more yourself to-day, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Quite well, thanks,” answered Winthrop, -accepting the arm-chair which his -host pushed toward him. “I thought I’d -come down and hear the verdict and attend -to the matter of the rental.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, yes,” said the Major. “Very kind -of you, sir.”</p> - -<p>He limped to a cupboard in one corner -and returned with a jug and two not overly -clean glasses, which he set on the desk, -brushing aside a litter of papers and books. -“You will join me, Mr. Winthrop, in a -little liquor, sir, I trust?”</p> - -<p>“A very little, then,” answered Winthrop. -“I’m still under doctor’s orders, -you know.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>[142]</span></p> - -<p>“As little as you like,” rejoined the Major, -courteously, “but we must drink to the -success of our conspiracy, sir. The matter -is all arranged. Miss India was—ah—surprisingly -complacent, sir.” The Major -handed the glass to Winthrop with a bow. -“Your very good health, sir!”</p> - -<p>During the subsequent talk, in which the -Major explained the terms of the bargain -as Winthrop had already learned them -from Holly, the visitor was able to look -about him. The room was small and -square save for the projecting fire-place -at one side. A window on the front overlooked -the street which led to Waynewood, -while through another on the side of the -building Winthrop could see the court-house<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>[143]</span> -behind its border of oaks, the stores -across the square and, peering from behind -the court-house, the end of the Palmetto -House with its long gallery. It was -Saturday, and the town looked quite busy. -Ox-carts, farm wagons drawn by mules, -and broken-down buggies crawled or jogged -past the window on their way to the -hitching-place. In front of the court-house, -in the shade, were half-a-dozen carts -loaded with bales of cotton, and the owners -with samples in hand were making the -round of the buyers. The sidewalks were -thronged with negroes, and the gay medley -of the voices came through the open window.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p142"> - <img src="images/i_p142.jpg" alt="Corunna" title="Corunna"> -</div> - -<p>A set of shelves occupied the end of the -room beside the door and were filled to -overflowing with yellow law books. The -mantel was crowded with filing cases and -a few tin boxes. Beside the front window a -small, old-fashioned safe held more books. -Besides these there was only the plain -oak desk, two chairs and the aforementioned -cupboard to be seen, if one excepts<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>[144]</span> -the wall decorations in the shape of colored -advertisements and calendars and a box -filled with sawdust beside the arm-chair. -The Major had tucked a greenish and very -damp cigar in the corner of his mouth, and -Winthrop soon discovered the necessity -for the box.</p> - -<p><a href="#i_fp144">Presently the new rental agreement was -signed</a> and the Major, after several abortive -attempts, flung open the door of the -safe and put it carefully away in one of -the compartments. Then he took up his -broad-brimmed black felt hat and reached -for his cane.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_fp144"> - <img src="images/i_fp144.jpg" alt="" title=""> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noic"><a href="#Page_144">PRESENTLY THE NEW RENTAL AGREEMENT WAS SIGNED</a></p> - </div> -</div> - -<p>“And now, Mr. Winthrop,” he said, -“we’ll just take a walk around the town, -sir; I’d like you to meet some of our citizens, -sir.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop good-naturedly acquiesced -and preceded the Major down the stairs. -During the next hour-and-a-half Winthrop -was impressively introduced to and warmly -welcomed by some two dozen of Corunna’s -foremost citizens, from ’Squire Parish, -whom they discovered buying a bale of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>[145]</span> -cotton in the dim recess of his hardware -store, to Mr. “Cad” Wilson, who wiped -his hand on a towel before reaching it -across the bar to add his welcome.</p> - -<p>“Not one of the aristocracy,” explained -the Major, as they took their way out after -drinking Winthrop’s health in Bourbon, -“but a gentleman at heart, sir, in spite of -his business, sir. When in need of liquid -refreshment, Mr. Winthrop, you will find -his place the best in town, sir, and you may -always depend on receiving courteous -treatment.”</p> - -<p>The post-office, toward which they bent -their steps after breasting Mr. “Cad” Wilson’s -swinging doors, proved to be a veritable -stamping-ground for Corunna’s celebrities. -There Winthrop was introduced -to the Reverend Mr. Fillock, the Presbyterian -minister; to Mr. “Ham” Somes, the -proprietor of the principal drug store; to -Colonel Byers, in from his plantation a -few miles outside of town to look up an -express shipment, and the postmaster himself, -Major Warren, who displayed an<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>[146]</span> -empty sleeve and, as Winthrop’s guide explained, -still never took a drink without -preceding it with the toast, “Secession, -sah!”</p> - -<p>When Colonel Byers alluded to the missing -express package the Major chuckled.</p> - -<p>“Colonel,” he said, “’taint another of -those boxes of hardware, is it?”</p> - -<p>The Colonel laughed and shook his head, -and the Major turned to Winthrop with -twinkling eyes.</p> - -<p>“You see, Mr. Winthrop, the Colonel got -a box of hardware by express some years -ago; from Savannah, wan’t it, Colonel?”</p> - -<p>“Atlanta, sir.”</p> - -<p>“Well, anyhow, the Colonel was busy -and didn’t get into town right away, and -one day he got a letter from the express -agent, saying: ‘Please call for your box -of hardware as it’s leaking all over the -floor.’”</p> - -<p>The Colonel appeared to enjoy the story -quite as much as the Major, and Winthrop -found their mirth quite as laugh-provoking -as the tale.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>[147]</span></p> - -<p>“And I have heard that the Colonel -never got to town in as quick time as he -did then!”</p> - -<p>“Morning, Harry,” said the Major, -turning to the newcomer. “I reckon you -heard just about right, Harry. I want to -introduce you to my friend Mr. Winthrop, -of New York, sir. Mr. Winthrop, shake -hands with Mr. Bartow. Mr. Bartow, sir, -represents us at the Capital.”</p> - -<p>“I’m honored to make your acquaintance, -sir,” said the Honorable Mr. Bartow. -“You are staying with us for awhile, -sir?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, probably for a few months,” replied -Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“Good, sir; I am pleased to hear it. You -must give me the pleasure of taking dinner -with me some day, sir. I’ll get the -Major to arrange it at your convenience.”</p> - -<p>“And bring Mr. Winthrop out to Sunnyside, -Lucius,” said the Colonel. “Some -Sunday would be best, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop accepted the invitations—or -perhaps the Major did it for him—and after<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>[148]</span> -shaking hands with the Colonel and the -Honorable Harry Bartow he was conducted -forth by his guide. Their course along -the sunlit street was often interrupted, -and Winthrop’s list of acquaintances grew -with each interruption. It was quite evident -that being vouched for by Major Lucius -Quintus Cass stood for a good deal, -and in every case Winthrop’s welcome was -impressively courteous. Once or twice the -Major was stopped by men to whom Winthrop -was not introduced. After one such -occasion the Major said, as they went on:</p> - -<p>“Not one of our kind, Mr. Winthrop; -his acquaintance would be of no benefit, -sir.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop noticed that not once did the -Major in his introductions allude to the -former’s ownership of Waynewood. And -evidently the Major concluded that the fact -required elucidation, for when they had -finally returned to the corner where stood -the Major’s office the latter said:</p> - -<p>“You may have observed, Mr. Winthrop, -that I have not mentioned your<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>[149]</span> -ownership of Waynewood. I thought it as -well not to, sir, for as you do not intend to -take possession this winter there can be -no harm in allowing folks to remain in ignorance -of—ah—the change. It will make -it much easier, sir, for Miss India and her -niece. You agree with me?”</p> - -<p>“Entirely,” replied Winthrop, suppressing -a smile. “We will keep the fact -a secret for awhile, Major.”</p> - -<p>“Quite so, sir, quite so. And now, sir, -I should be delighted if you would take -dinner with me at the hotel, if you will be -so kind.”</p> - -<p>But Winthrop declined and, thanking -the other for his kindness, shook hands and -turned his steps homeward, or, at least, toward -Waynewood; he had begun to doubt -his possession of that place.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>[150]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII">VIII.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>Winthrop had been at Waynewood a -week—a week of which one day had been -so like the next that Winthrop remembered -them all with impartial haziness and content. -It was delightful to have nothing -more startling to look forward to than a -quail-shoot, a dinner at Sunnyside, or a -game of whist in town; to have each day -as alike in mellowness and sunshine as they -were similar in events, pass softly across -the garden, from shadow to shadow, the -while he watched its passage with tranquilly -smiling eyes and inert body from -the seat under the magnolia or a chair on -the quiet porch.</p> - -<p>The past became the flimsiest of ghosts, -the future a mere insignificant speck on -the far horizon. What mattered it that -once his heart had ached? That he was -practically penniless? That somewhere<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>[151]</span> -men were hurrying and striving for -wealth? The sky was hazily blue, the sunlight -was wine of gold, the southern breeze -was the soothing touch of a soft and fragrant -hand that bade him rest and sleep, for -there was no yesterday and no morrow, -and the taste of lotus was sweet in his -mouth. The mornings danced brightly -past to the lilt of bird song; the afternoons -paced more leisurely, crossing the tangled -garden with measured, somnolent tread so -quiet that not a leaf stirred, not a bird -chirped in the enfolding silence; the evenings -grew from purple haze, fragrant with -wood-smoke, to blue-black clarity set with -a million silver stars whose soft radiance -bathed the still world with tender light. -Such days and such nights have a spell, -and Winthrop was bound.</p> - -<p>And Holly? Fate, although she was still -unsuspecting of the fact, had toppled the -stone into the stream and the ripples were -already widening. Winthrop’s coming had -been an event. Holly had her friends, girls -of her own age, who came to Waynewood<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>[152]</span> -to see her and whom she visited in town, -and young men in the early twenties who -walked or drove out in the evenings, when -their duties in the stores and offices were -over, and made very chivalrous and distant -love to her in the parlor. But for all -that many of the days had been long with -only Aunt India, who was not exactly -chatty, and the servants to talk to. But -now it was different. This charming and -delightfully inexplicable Northerner was -fair prey. He was never too busy to listen -to her; in fact, he was seldom busy at all, -unless sitting, sometimes with a closed -book in one’s lap, and gazing peacefully -into space may be termed being busy. They -had quite exciting mornings together very -often, exciting, at least, for Holly, when -she unburdened herself of a wealth of reflections -and conclusions and when he listened -with the most agreeable attention in -the world and always said just the right -thing to tempt her tongue to more brilliant -ardor.</p> - -<p>And then in the afternoons, while Aunt<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a>[153]</span> -India slept and Holly couldn’t, just because -the blood ran far too fast in her young -veins, there were less stimulating but very -comforting talks in the shade of the porch. -And sometimes they walked, but,—for -Holly had inherited the characteristic disinclination -for overindulgence in that form -of exercise,—not very frequently. Holly -would have indorsed the proverb—Persian, -isn’t it?—which says, in part, that it -is easier to sit than to stand and easier to -lie down than to sit. And Winthrop at -this period would have agreed with her. -Judged by Northern standards, Holly -might have been deemed lazy. But we -must remember that Holly came of people -who had never felt the necessity of physical -exertion, since there had always been -slaves at hand to perform the slightest -task, and for whom the climate had prohibited -any inclination in that direction. -Holly’s laziness was that of a kitten, which -seldom goes out to walk for pleasure but -which will romp until its breath is gone -or stalk a sparrow for an hour untiringly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a>[154]</span></p> - -<p>By the end of the first week she and -Winthrop had become the very good -friends they had agreed to be. They had -reached the point where it was no longer -necessary to preface their conversation -with an introduction. Now when Holly -had anything to say—and she usually did—she -plunged right in without any preliminary -shivers. As this morning when, having -given out the supplies for the day to -Aunt Venus, she joined Winthrop under -the magnolia, settling her back against the -trunk and clasping her hands about her -knees, “I reckon there are two sides to -everything,” she said, with the air of one -who is announcing the result of long study.</p> - -<p>Winthrop, who had arisen at her approach -and remained standing until she -had seated herself, settled back again and -smiled encouragingly. He liked to hear -her talk, liked the soft coo of her voice, -liked the things she said, liked, besides, to -watch the play of expression on her face.</p> - -<p>“Father always said that the Yankees -had no right to interfere with the South<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>[155]</span> -and that it wasn’t war with them, it was -just homicide. Homicide’s where you kill -someone else, isn’t it? I always get it -mixed up with suicide.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop nodded.</p> - -<p>“That’s what he used to say, and I’m -sure he believed it or he’d never have said -it. But maybe he was mistaken. Was he, -do you think?”</p> - -<p>“He might have been a trifle biased,” -said Winthrop.</p> - -<p>Holly was silent a moment. Then——</p> - -<p>“Uncle Major,” she continued, “used to -argue with him, but father always had the -best of it. I reckon, though, you Northerners -are sorry now, aren’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Sorry that there was war, yes,” answered -Winthrop, smilingly; “but not -sorry for what we did.”</p> - -<p>“But if it was wrong?” argued Holly. -“’Pears to me you ought to be sorry! -Just see the heaps and heaps of trouble -you made for the South! Julian says that -you ought to have paid us for every negro -you took away from us.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>[156]</span></p> - -<p>“Indeed? And who, may I ask, is Julian?”</p> - -<p>“Julian Wayne is my cousin, my second -cousin. He graduated from medical college -last year. He lives in Marysville, over -yonder.” Holly nodded vaguely toward -the grove.</p> - -<p>“Practising, is he?”</p> - -<p>“He’s Dr. Thompson’s assistant,” said -Holly. “He’s getting experience. After -awhile he’s going to come to Corunna.” -There was a pause. “He’s coming over -to-morrow to spend Sunday.”</p> - -<p>“Really? And does he make these trips -very often?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, every now and then,” answered -Holly, carelessly.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps there is an attraction hereabouts,” -suggested Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“Maybe it’s Aunt India,” said Holly, -gravely.</p> - -<p>Winthrop laughed.</p> - -<p>“Is he nice, this Cousin Julian?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>Holly nodded.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>[157]</span></p> - -<p>“He’s a dear boy. He’s very young yet, -only twenty-three.”</p> - -<p>“And eighteen from twenty-three leaves -five,” teased Winthrop. “I’ve heard, I -think, that ten is the ideal disparity in -years for purposes of marriage, but doubtless -five isn’t to be sneezed at.”</p> - -<p>Holly’s smooth cheeks reddened a little.</p> - -<p>“A girl ought to marry a man much -older than herself,” she said, decisively.</p> - -<p>“Oh! Then Julian won’t do?”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t decided,” Holly laughed. -“Maybe. He’s nice. I wonder if you’ll -like him. Will you try to, please? He—he’s -awfully down on Northerners, -though.”</p> - -<p>“That’s bad,” said Winthrop, seriously. -“Perhaps he won’t approve of me. Do -you think I’d better run away over Sunday? -I might go out to visit Colonel -Byers; he’s asked me.”</p> - -<p>“Silly!” said Holly. “He won’t eat -you!”</p> - -<p>“Well, that’s comforting. I’ll stay, -then. The dislike of Northerners seems to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>[158]</span> -be a strong trait in your family, Miss -Holly.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, some Northerners are quite nice,” -she answered, with a challenging glance.</p> - -<p>“I wonder,” he asked, with intense diffidence, -“I wonder—if I’m included among -the quite nice ones?”</p> - -<p>“What do you think, Mr. Winthrop?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve always thought rather well -of myself until I came to Corunna. But -now that I have learned just how poor a -lot Northerners are, I find myself rather -more modest.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop sighed depressedly.</p> - -<p>“I’ll change it,” said Holly, her eyes -dancing. “I’ll say instead that <em>one</em> Northerner -is very nice.”</p> - -<p>“You said ‘quite nice’ before.”</p> - -<p>“That just shows that I like you better -every minute,” laughed the girl.</p> - -<p>Winthrop sighed.</p> - -<p>“It’s a dangerous course you’re pursuing, -Miss Holly,” he said, sadly. “If you -aren’t awfully careful you’ll lose a good -slave and find a poor admirer.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>[159]</span></p> - -<p>“My admirers must be my slaves, too,” -answered Holly.</p> - -<p>“I am warned. I thank you. I could -never play a dual rôle, I fear.”</p> - -<p>Holly pouted.</p> - -<p>“Then which do you choose?” she asked, -aggrievedly.</p> - -<p>“To be your slave, my dear young lady; -I fancy that rôle would be more becoming -to middle-age and, at all events, far less -hazardous.”</p> - -<p>“But if I command you to admire me -you’ll have to, you see; slaves must obey.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t waited for the command,” -replied Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“You blow hot and cold, sir. First you -refuse to be my admirer and then you declare -that you do admire me. What am I -to believe?”</p> - -<p>“That my heart and brain are at war, -Miss Holly. My heart says: ‘Down on -your knees!’ but my brain says: ‘Don’t -you do it, my boy; she’ll lead you a dance -that your aged limbs won’t take kindly to, -and in the end she’ll run out of your sight,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>[160]</span> -laughing, leaving you to sorrow and liniment!”</p> - -<p>“You have as good as called me a coquette, -Mr. Winthrop,” charged Holly, severely.</p> - -<p>“Have I? And, pray, what have you -been doing for the last ten minutes but coquetting -with me, young lady? Tell me -that.”</p> - -<p>“Have I?” asked Holly, with a soft little -laugh. “Do you mind?”</p> - -<p>“Mind? On the contrary, do you know, -I rather like it? So go right ahead; you -are keeping your hand in, and at the same -time flattering the vanity of one who has -reached the age when to be used even for -target practice is flattering.”</p> - -<p>“Your age troubles you a great deal, -doesn’t it?” asked Holly, ironically. -“Please, why do you always remind me of -it? Are you afraid that I’ll lose my heart -to you and that you’ll have to refuse me?”</p> - -<p>“Well, you have seen me for a week,” -answered Winthrop, modestly, “and know -my irresistible charm.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>[161]</span></p> - -<p>Holly was silent a moment, her brown -eyes fixed speculatively on the man’s smiling -face. Then——</p> - -<p>“You must feel awfully safe,” she said, -with conviction, “to talk the way you do. -And I reckon I know why.”</p> - -<p>“And may I know, too?”</p> - -<p>“No; that is, you do know already, -and I’m not going to tell you. Oh, what -time is it, please?”</p> - -<p>Winthrop drew out his watch and then, -with a shrug, dropped it back into his -pocket.</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell you. The fact is, I forgot -to wind it last night. Why should I wind -it, anyhow? What does it matter what -time it is in this place? If the sun is -there, I know it’s morning; if it’s somewhere -overhead, I know it’s noon; when it -drops behind the trees, I know it’s evening; -when it disappears, I know it’s night—and -I go to sleep. Watches and clocks -are anachronisms here. Like arctics and -fur overcoats.”</p> - -<p>“I shall go and find out,” said Holly, -rising.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>[162]</span></p> - -<p>“Why waste time and effort in the pursuit -of unprofitable knowledge?” sighed -Winthrop. But he received no answer, for -his companion was already making her -way through the garden. Winthrop laid -his head back against the tree and, with -half-closed eyes, smiled lazily and contentedly -up into the brown-and-green leafage -above. And as he did so a thought came -to him, a most ridiculous, inappropriate -thought, a veritable serpent-in-Eden -thought; he wondered what “A. S. common” -was selling for! He drove the -thought away angrily. What nonsense! -If he wasn’t careful he’d find himself trying -to remember the amount of his balance -in bank! Odd what absurd turns the mind -was capable of! Well, the only way to -keep his mind away from idle speculation -was to turn his thoughts toward serious -and profitable subjects. So he wondered -why the magnolia leaves were covered with -green satin on top and tan velvet beneath. -But before he had arrived at any conclusion -Holly came back, bearing a glass containing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>[163]</span> -a milky-white liquid and a silver -spoon.</p> - -<div class="figright" id="i_p163"> - <img src="images/i_p163.jpg" alt="Holly bearing medicine" title="Holly bearing medicine"> -</div> - -<p>“It’s past the time,” she said.</p> - -<p>“Then you shouldn’t have bothered to -bring it,” answered Winthrop, regretfully. -“But never mind; we’ll try and remember -it at supper time.”</p> - -<p>“But you must take it now,” persisted -Holly, firmly.</p> - -<p>“But I fear it wouldn’t -do any good. You see, -your Aunt said distinctly -an hour before meals. -The psychological moment -has passed, greatly -to my rel—regret.”</p> - -<p>“Please!” said Holly, -holding the glass toward -him. “You know it’s doing -you heaps of good.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, but that’s just it, don’t you see, -Miss Holly? If I continue to take it I’ll -be quite well in no time, and that would -never do. Would you deprive your Aunt -of the pleasure she is now enjoying of dosing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>[164]</span> -me thrice a day with the most nauseous -mixture that was ever invented?”</p> - -<p>“Shucks! It isn’t so terribly bad,” -laughed Holly.</p> - -<p>Winthrop observed her sternly.</p> - -<p>“Have you sampled it, may I ask?”</p> - -<p>Holly shook her head.</p> - -<p>“Then please do so. It will do you lots -of good, besides preventing you from making -any more well-meant but inaccurate -remarks. And you have been looking a -bit pale the last day or two, Miss Holly.”</p> - -<p>Holly viewed the mixture dubiously, hesitatingly.</p> - -<p>“Besides, you said ‘Shucks,’ and you -owe yourself punishment.”</p> - -<p>“Well——” Holly swallowed a spoonful, -tried not to shiver, and absolutely -succeeded in smiling brightly afterwards.</p> - -<p>“Well?” asked Winthrop, anxiously.</p> - -<p>“I—I think it has calomel in it,” said -Holly.</p> - -<p>“I feared it.” He shook his head and -warded off the proffered glass. “I am a -homœopath.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>[165]</span></p> - -<p>“You’re a baby, that’s what you are!” -said Holly, tauntingly.</p> - -<p>“Ha! No one shall accuse me of cowardice.” -He clenched his hands. “Administer -it, please.”</p> - -<p>Holly moved toward him until her skirt -brushed his knees. As she dipped the -spoon a faint flush crept into her cheeks. -Winthrop saw, and understood.</p> - -<p>“No, give it to me,” he said. “I will -feed myself. Then, no matter what happens—and -I fear the worst!—you will not -be implicated.”</p> - -<p>Holly yielded the glass and moved back, -watching him sympathetically while he -swallowed two spoonfuls of the medicine.</p> - -<p>“Was it awfully bad?” she asked, as he -passed the glass to her with a shudder.</p> - -<p>Winthrop reflected. Then:</p> - -<p>“Frankly, it was,” he replied. “But it’s -a good deal like having your teeth filled; -it’s almost worth it for the succeeding glow -of courage and virtue and relief it brings. -Put it out of sight, please, and let us talk -of pleasant things.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>[166]</span></p> - -<p>“What?” asked Holly, as she sat down -once more on the bench.</p> - -<p>“Well, let me see. Suppose, Miss Holly, -you tell me how you came to have such a -charming and unusual name.”</p> - -<p>“My mother gave it to me,” answered -Holly, softly. “She was very fond of -holly.”</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon,” exclaimed Winthrop. -“It was an impertinent question.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no. My mother only lived a little -while after I was born—about five weeks. -She died on New Year’s morning. On -Christmas Day father picked a spray of -holly from one of the bushes down by the -road. It was quite full of red berries and -so pretty that he took it in to my mother. -Father said she took it in her hands and -cried a little over it, and he was sorry he -had brought it to her. They had laid me -beside her in the bed and presently she -placed the holly sprig over me and kissed -me and looked at father. She couldn’t -talk very much then. But father understood -what she meant. ‘Holly?’ he asked,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>[167]</span> -and mother smiled, and—and that was -‘how come.’” Holly, her hands clasped -between her knees, looked gravely and -tenderly away across the sunny garden. -Winthrop kept silence for a moment. -Then——</p> - -<p>“I fancy they loved each other very -dearly, your father and mother,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Oh, they did!” breathed Holly. “Father -used to tell me—about it. He always -said I was just like my mother. It—it -must have been beautiful. Do you -reckon,” she continued wistfully, “people -love that way nowadays?”</p> - -<p>“To-day, yesterday, and to-morrow,” -answered Winthrop. “The great passions—love, -hate, acquisitiveness—are the same -now as in the beginning, and will never -change while the earth spins around. I -hope, Miss Holly, that the years will bring -you as great a love and as happy a one as -your mother’s.”</p> - -<p>Holly viewed him pensively a moment. -Then a little flush crept into her cheeks -and she turned her head away.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>[168]</span></p> - -<p>“No,” she said, “I’m not dear and sweet -and gentle like my mother. Besides, -maybe I’d never find a man like my -father.”</p> - -<p>“Perhaps not,” replied Winthrop, “although -I hope you will. But even if not, I -wouldn’t despair. Love is a very wonderful -magician, who transmutes clay into gold, -transforms baseness into nobility, and -changes caitiffs into kings.” He laughed -amusedly. “Great Scott! I’m actually -becoming rhetorical! It’s this climate of -yours, Miss Holly; there is something magical -about it; it creeps into one’s veins like -wine and makes one’s heart thump at the -sound of a bird’s song. Why, hang it, in -another week I shall find myself singing -love songs under your window on moonlight -nights!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, that would be lovely!” cried Holly, -clapping her hands. “I haven’t been serenaded -for the longest time!”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean that such things are -really done here?”</p> - -<p>“Of course! The boys often serenade.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>[169]</span> -When I came home from the Academy, Julian -and a lot of them serenaded me. It -was a white, white night and they stood -over there under my windows; I remember -how black their shadows were on the path. -Julian and Jim Stuart played guitars and -some of the others had banjos, and it was -heavenly!”</p> - -<p>“And such things still happen in this -prematurely-aged, materialistic world!” -marvelled Winthrop. “It sounds like a -fairy tale!”</p> - -<p>“I reckon it sounds silly to you,” said -Holly.</p> - -<p>“Silly! Oh, my dear young lady, if you -could only realize how very, very rich you -are!”</p> - -<p>“Rich?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, rich and wise with the unparalleled -wealth and wisdom of Youth! -Hearken to the words of Age and Experience, -Miss Holly,” he continued, half jestingly, -half seriously. “The world belongs -to you and your kind; it is the Kingdom of -Youth. The rest of us are here on sufferance;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>[170]</span> -but you belong. The world tolerates -Age, but to Youth it owes allegiance -and love. But your days are short in your -kingdom, O Queen, so make the most of -them; laugh and play and love and <em>live</em>; -above all, live! And above all be extravagant, -extravagant of laughter—and of -tears; extravagant of affection; run the -gamut of life every hour; be mad, be foolish—but -<em>live</em>! And so when the World -thrusts you to one side, saying: ‘The King -is dead! Long live the King!’ you will -have no regrets for a wasted reign, but -can say: ‘While I ruled, I lived!’”</p> - -<p>“I—I don’t understand—quite!” faltered -Holly.</p> - -<p>“Because you are too wise.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon you mean too stupid,” -mourned Holly.</p> - -<p>“Too wise. You are Youth, and Youth -is Perfect Wisdom. When you grow old -you will know more but be less wise. And -the longer you live the more learning will -come to you and the more wisdom will depart. -And in proof of this I point to myself<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>[171]</span> -as an example. For no wise person -would try to convince Youth of its wisdom.” -Winthrop stopped and drew his -cigarette-case from his pocket. When he -had lighted a cigarette he smiled quizzically -across at the girl’s sober, half-averted face. -“It’s very warm, isn’t it?” he asked, with -a little laugh.</p> - -<p>But Holly made no reply for a minute. -Then she turned a troubled face toward -him.</p> - -<p>“Why did you say that?” she cried. -“You’ve made me feel sad!”</p> - -<p>With a gesture of contrition Winthrop -reached across and laid his hand for an -instant on hers.</p> - -<p>“My dear, I am sorry; forget it if it -troubles you; I have been talking nonsense, -sheer nonsense.”</p> - -<p>But she shook her head, examining his -face gravely.</p> - -<p>“No, I don’t reckon you have; but—I -don’t understand quite what you mean. -Only——” She paused, and presently -asked:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>[172]</span></p> - -<p>“Didn’t you live when you ruled? Are -you regretting?”</p> - -<p>Winthrop shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>“That,” he answered, smilingly, “is the -sorry part of it; one always regrets. -Come, let’s go in to dinner. I heard the -bell, didn’t I?”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>[173]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="IX">IX.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>Winthrop thought that he could like -Julian Wayne if that youth would let him. -But it was evident from the moment of -their first meeting that Julian wasn’t going -to allow anything of the sort. He arrived -at Waynewood Saturday night, and -Winthrop, who had spent the evening with -the Major at ’Squire Parish’s house, did -not meet him until Sunday morning. He -was tall, dark haired and sallow complexioned, -and as handsome as any youth Winthrop -had ever seen. His features were -regular, with a fine, straight nose, wide -eyes, a strong chin and a good, somewhat -tense, mouth that matched with the general -air of imperiousness he wore. Winthrop -soon discovered that Julian Wayne retained -undiminished the old Southern doctrine -of caste and that he looked upon the -new member of the Waynewood household<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>[174]</span> -with a polite but very frank contempt. He -was ardent, impetuous, and arrogant, but -they were traits of youth rather than of -character, and Winthrop, for his part, -readily forgave them. That he was head-over-heels -in love with Holly was evident -from the first, and Winthrop could have -liked him the more for that. But Julian’s -bearing was discouraging to any notions of -friendship which Winthrop might have entertained. -For Winthrop breakfast—which -Miss India attended, as was her -usual custom on Sundays—was an uncomfortable -meal. He felt very much like an -intruder, in spite of the fact that both Miss -India and Holly strove to include him in -the conversation, and he was relieved when -it was over.</p> - -<p>Julian imperiously claimed Holly’s companionship -and the two went out to the -front porch. Miss India attended to the -matter of dinner supplies, and then returned -to her room to dress for church. -Being cut off from the porch, Winthrop -went up-stairs and took a chair and a book<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>[175]</span> -out on to the gallery. But the voices of -the two below came up to him in a low, -eager hum, interspersed with occasional -words, and drew his mind from the book. -He was a little disappointed in Julian -Wayne, he told himself. He could have -wished a different sort of a man for -Holly’s husband. And then he laughed at -himself for inconsistency. Only two days -before he had been celebrating just the -youthful traits which Julian exhibited. -Doubtless the boy would make her a very -admirable mate. At least, he was thoroughly -in love with her. Winthrop strove -to picture the ideal husband for Holly and -found himself all at sea on the instant, and -ended by wondering whimsically how long -he would allow Julian undisputed possession -of her if he were fifteen—even ten—years -younger!</p> - -<p>Later they all walked to church, Julian -and Holly leading the way, as handsome a -couple as had ever passed under the whispering -oak-trees, and Winthrop and Miss -India pacing staidly along behind—at a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>[176]</span> -discreet interval. Miss India’s bearing toward -him amused Winthrop even while it -piqued him. She was the most kind, most -courteous little woman in the world to him, -displaying a vast interest in and sympathy -for his invalidism, and keeping an anxious -watch over his goings and comings in the -fear that he would overtax his strength. -And yet all the while Winthrop knew as -well as he knew his name that she resented -his ownership of her home and would be -vastly relieved at his departure. And -knowing this, he, on every possible occasion, -set himself to win the little lady’s -liking, with, he was forced to acknowledge, -scant prospect of success.</p> - -<p>Winthrop sat between Miss India and -Holly, with Julian at the end of the pew. It -was his first sight of the little, unadorned -Episcopal church, for he had not accompanied -the ladies the previous Sunday. It -was a plain, uncompromising interior in -which he found himself. The bare white -walls were broken only by big, small-paned -windows of plain glass. The pews were of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>[177]</span> -yellow pine and the pulpit and stiff chairs -on either side were of the same. The only -note of decoration was found in the vase -of roses which stood beside the big closed -Bible. A cottage organ supplied the music. -But there was color in the congregation, -for the younger women wore their -best dresses and finest hats, and Winthrop -concluded that all Corunna was at church. -For awhile he interested himself in discovering -acquaintances, many of them -scarcely recognizable to-day in their black -coats and air of devoutness. But the possibilities -of that mode of amusement were -soon exhausted, since the Wayne pew was -well past the middle of the church. After -the sermon began Winthrop listened to it -for awhile. Probably it was a very excellent -and passably interesting sermon, but -the windows were wide open and the -languorous air waved softly, warmly in, -and Winthrop’s eyes grew heavier and -heavier and the pulpit mistier and mistier -and the parson’s voice lower and lower -and....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>[178]</span></p> - -<p>He opened his eyes very suddenly, for -Holly had reached forth and brought the -toe of her shoe into sharp contact with his -ankle. He turned to find her watching him -with grave face and laughing eyes, and he -looked his thanks. Then his eyes roved by -to encounter the hostile stare of Julian, -who had witnessed the incident and was -jealously resenting the intimacy it denoted.</p> - -<p>After church the party delayed at the -door to greet their friends. Julian, with -the easy courtesy that so well became him, -shook hands with fully half the congregation, -answering and asking questions in -his pleasant, well-bred drawl. Winthrop -wondered pessimistically if he had in mind -the fact that in another year or so he would -be dependent on these persons for his -bread and butter. But Julian’s punctiliousness -gave Winthrop his chance. Miss -India and Holly had finished their share -of the social event and had walked slowly -out on to the porch, followed by Winthrop. -Presently Julian emerged through the door<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>[179]</span> -in conversation with Mrs. Somes, and Winthrop -turned to Holly.</p> - -<p>“There comes your cousin,” he said. -“Shall we start on ahead and let them follow?”</p> - -<p>There was a little flicker of surprise in -the brown eyes, followed by the merest -suggestion of a smile. Then Holly moved -toward the steps and Winthrop ranged -himself beside her.</p> - -<p>“A little discipline now and then has a -salutary effect, Miss Holly,” he remarked, -as they passed out through the gate.</p> - -<p>“Oh, are you doing this for discipline?” -asked Holly, innocently.</p> - -<p>“I am doing it to please myself, discipline -your cousin, and—well, I don’t know -what the effect on you may be.”</p> - -<p>“I believe you’re hinting for compliments, -Mr. Winthrop!”</p> - -<p>“Maybe; I’ve been feeling strangely -frivolous of late. By the way, please accept -my undying gratitude for that kick.”</p> - -<p>“You ought to be grateful,” answered -Holly, with a laugh. “In another moment<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>[180]</span> -your head would have been on Auntie’s -shoulder and—I hope you don’t snore, Mr. -Winthrop?”</p> - -<p>“Heavens! Was it as bad as that? I -<em>am</em> grateful! Fancy your Aunt’s horror!” -And Winthrop laughed at the -thought.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Auntie would have just thought -you’d fainted and had you carried home -and put to bed,” said Holly.</p> - -<p>“I wonder how much you know?” mused -Winthrop, turning to look down into her -demure face.</p> - -<p>“About what, Mr. Winthrop?”</p> - -<p>“About my—my invalidism.”</p> - -<p>“Why, you’re a very sick man, of -course,” replied Holly. “Auntie is quite -worried about you at times.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop laughed.</p> - -<p>“But you’re not, I suspect. I fancy you -have guessed that I am something of an -impostor. Have you?”</p> - -<p>“Mh-mh,” assented Holly, smilingly.</p> - -<p>“I thought so; you’ve been so fearfully -attentive with that—lovely medicine of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>[181]</span> -late. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself to -cause me so much affliction?”</p> - -<p>“Aren’t you ashamed to impose on two -unsuspecting ladies?”</p> - -<p>“Well, seeing that I haven’t fooled you -I don’t think you need to say ‘two.’ But -I’m not altogether to blame, Miss Holly. -It was that scheming Uncle Major of yours -that beguiled me into it. He declared up -and down that if I wanted to remain at -Waynewood the only thing to do was to -continue being an invalid. And now—well, -now I don’t dare get well!”</p> - -<p>Holly laughed gayly.</p> - -<p>“If you had owned up before, you would -have been spared a good many doses of -medicine,” she said. “It was lots of fun -to make you take it! But now I don’t -reckon I’ll have the heart to any more.”</p> - -<p>“Bless you for those words!” said Winthrop, -devoutly. “That infernal medicine -has been the one fly in my ointment, the -single crumbled leaf in my bed of roses. -Hereafter I shall be perfectly happy. -That is, if I survive the day. I fancy your<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>[182]</span> -cousin may call me out before he leaves -and put a bullet into me.”</p> - -<p>“Why?” asked Holly, innocently.</p> - -<p>“Jealousy, my dear young lady. -Haven’t I carried you off from under his -nose?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t reckon I’d have gone if I hadn’t -wanted to,” said Holly, with immense dignity.</p> - -<p>“That makes it all the worse, don’t you -see? He is convinced by this time that I -have designs on you and looks upon me as -a hated rival. I can feel his eyes boring -gimlet-holes in my back this moment.”</p> - -<p>“It will do him good,” said Holly, with -a little toss of her head.</p> - -<p>“That’s what I thought,” said Winthrop. -“But I doubt if he is capable of -taking the same sensible view of it.”</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid you don’t like him,” said -Holly, regretfully.</p> - -<p>“My dear Miss Holly,” he expostulated, -“he doesn’t give me a chance. I am as dirt -under his feet. I think I might like him -if he’d give me chance. He’s as handsome<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a>[183]</span> -a youngster as I’ve ever seen, and I fancy -I can trace a strong resemblance between -him and the portrait of your father in the -parlor; the eyes are very like.”</p> - -<p>“Others have said that,” answered -Holly, “but I never could see the resemblance; -I wish I could.”</p> - -<p>“I assure you it’s there.”</p> - -<p>“Julian is very silly,” said Holly, -warmly. “And I shall tell him so.”</p> - -<p>“Pray don’t,” begged Winthrop. “He -doubtless already dislikes me quite heartily -enough.”</p> - -<p>“He has no right to be rude to you.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop smiled ruefully.</p> - -<p>“But he isn’t; that’s the worst of it! -He’s scrupulously polite—just as one -would be polite to the butler or the man -from the butcher’s! No, don’t call him to -account, please; we shall get on well -enough, he and I. Maybe when he discovers -that I am not really trying to steal you -away from him he will come off his high -horse. I suppose, however, that the real -reason for it all is that he resents my intrusion<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a>[184]</span> -at Waynewood—quite in the popular -manner.”</p> - -<p>He regretted the latter remark the instant -he had made it, for Holly turned a -distressed countenance toward him.</p> - -<p>“Oh, have we been as bad as all that?” -she cried, softly. “I’m so sorry! But -really and really you mustn’t think that -we don’t like you to be at Waynewood! -You won’t, will you? Please don’t! Why, -I—I have been so happy since you came!”</p> - -<p>“Bless you,” answered Winthrop, -lightly, “I really meant nothing. And if -you are willing to put up with me, why, -the others don’t matter at all. But I’m awfully -glad to know that you haven’t found -me a bother, Miss Holly.”</p> - -<p>“How could I? You’ve been so nice and—and -chummy! I shan’t want you to go -away,” she added, sorrowfully. “I feel -just as though you were a nice, big elder -brother.”</p> - -<p>“That’s just what I am,” replied Winthrop, -heartily, “a big elder brother—<em>and</em> -a slave—and <em>always</em> an admirer.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>[185]</span></p> - -<p>“And I shall tell Julian so,” added -Holly.</p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t, really.”</p> - -<p>“But why?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, well, you’ll just make him more -jealous and unhappy, my dear. Or, at -least, that’s the effect it would have on me -were I in his place, and I fancy lovers are -much the same North and South.”</p> - -<p>“Jealousy is nasty,” said Holly, sententiously.</p> - -<p>“Many of our most human sentiments -are,” responded Winthrop dryly, “but we -can’t help them.”</p> - -<p>Holly was silent a moment. Then——</p> - -<p>“Would you mind not calling me ‘my -dear’?” she asked.</p> - -<p>“Have I done that? I believe I have. I -beg your pardon, Miss Holly! Really, I -had no intention of being—what shall I -say?—familiar.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it isn’t that,” replied Holly earnestly, -“but it makes me feel so terribly -young! If you’d like to call me Holly, you -may.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>[186]</span></p> - -<p>“Thank you,” answered Winthrop as -they entered the gate and passed into the -noonday twilight of the oleander path. -“But that is a privilege I don’t deserve, -at all events, not yet. Perhaps some day, -maybe the day I dance at your wedding, -I’ll accept the honor.”</p> - -<p>“Just see how many, many roses are -out!” cried Holly.</p> - -<p>They went on to the house in silence.</p> - -<p>Dinner was a pleasanter meal for Winthrop -than breakfast had been, principally -because the Major and a Miss Virginia -Parish, a maiden lady of uncertain age and -much charm of manners, were present. -The Major observed and resented Julian’s -polite disregard of Winthrop and after -dinner took him to task for it. The ladies -were in the parlor, Winthrop had gone up-stairs -to get some cigars, and the Major -and Julian were at the end of the porch. -It was perhaps unfortunate that Winthrop -should have been forced to overhear a part -of the conversation under his window.</p> - -<p>“You don’t treat the gentleman with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>[187]</span> -common civility,” remonstrated the Major, -warmly.</p> - -<p>“I am not aware that I have been discourteous -to him,” responded Julian in his -drawling voice.</p> - -<p>The Major spluttered.</p> - -<p>“Gad, sir, what do you mean by discourteous? -You can’t turn your back on -a man at his own table without being discourteous! -Confound it, sir, remember -that you’re under his roof!”</p> - -<p>“I do remember it,” answered Julian -quickly. “I’m not likely to forget it, sir. -But how did it become his roof? How -did he get hold of it? Some damned Yankee -trick, I’ll wager; stole it, as like as -not!”</p> - -<p>“Tut, tut, sir! What language is that, -Julian? Mr. Winthrop——”</p> - -<p>But Winthrop waited to hear no more. -With the cigars he joined them on the -porch, finding the Major very red of face -and looking somewhat like an insulted turkey-cock, -and Julian with a sombre sneer -on his dark face. Julian declined the proffered<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a>[188]</span> -cigar and presently left the others -alone, taking himself off in search of -Holly. The Major waved a hand after -him, and scowled angrily.</p> - -<p>“Just like his father,” he grunted. -“Hot-headed, stubborn, badly balanced, -handsome as the devil and bound to come -just such a cropper in the end.”</p> - -<p>“You mean that his father was unfortunate?” -asked Winthrop idly, as he -lighted his cigar.</p> - -<p>“Shot himself for a woman, sir. Most -nonsensical proceeding I ever heard of. -The woman wasn’t worth it, sir.”</p> - -<p>“They seldom are,” commented Winthrop, -gravely, “in the opinion of others.”</p> - -<p>“She was married,” continued the Major, -unheeding the remark, “and had children; -fine little tots they were, too. Husband -was good as gold to her. But she had -to have Fernald Wayne to satisfy her -damned vanity. I beg your pardon, Mr. -Winthrop, but I have no patience with that -sort of women, sir!”</p> - -<p>“You don’t understand them.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>[189]</span></p> - -<p>“I don’t want to, sir.”</p> - -<p>“You couldn’t if you did,” replied Winthrop.</p> - -<p>The Major shot a puzzled glance at him, -rolling his unlighted cigar swiftly around -in the corner of his mouth. Then he deluged -the Baltimore Bell with tobacco-juice -and went on:</p> - -<p>“Fernald was plumb out of his head -about her. His own wife had been dead -some years. Nothing would do but she -must run away with him. Well——”</p> - -<p>“Did the lady live here?” asked Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“Godamighty, no, sir! We don’t breed -that kind here, sir! She lived in New Orleans; -her husband was a cotton factor -there. Well, Fernald begged her to run -away with him, and after a lot of hemming -and hawing she consented. They made an -appointment for one night and Fernald -was there waiting. But the lady didn’t -come. After awhile he went back to his -hotel and found a note. She was sorry, -but her husband had bought tickets for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>[190]</span> -the opera for that evening. Eh? What? -There was soul for you, Mr. Winthrop!”</p> - -<p>Winthrop nodded.</p> - -<p>“So the lover blew his brains out, eh?”</p> - -<p>“Shot a hole in his chest; amounted to -about the same thing, I reckon,” answered -the Major, gloomily. “Now what do you -think of a woman that’ll do a thing like -that?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t know but what a good -opera is to be preferred to an elopement,” -answered Winthrop. “There, there, Major, -I don’t mean to be flippant. The fact -is we hear of so many of these ‘crimes of -passion’ up our way nowadays that we -take them with the same equanimity that -we take the weather predictions. The woman -was just a good sample of her sort as -the man was doubtless a good sample of -his. He was lucky to be out of it, only he -didn’t realize it and so killed himself. -That’s the deuce of it, you see, Major; a -man who can look a thousand fathoms -into a woman’s eyes and keep his judgment -from slipping a cog is—well, he just isn’t;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a>[191]</span> -he doesn’t exist! And if he did you and -I, Major, wouldn’t have anything to do -with him.”</p> - -<p>“Shucks!” grunted the Major, half in -agreement, half in protest.</p> - -<p>“But I hope this boy won’t follow his -father’s lead, just the same,” said Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“No, no,” answered the Major, energetically; -“he won’t, he won’t. He—he’s better -fitted for hard knocks than his dad was. -I—we had just had a few words and I was—ah—displeased. -Shall we join the ladies -inside, Mr. Winthrop?”</p> - -<p>The Major drove back to town in his -side-bar buggy behind his aged gray mule -at sunset, taking Miss Parish with him. -Miss India retired to her room, and Julian -and Holly strolled off together down the -road. Winthrop drew the arm-chair up to -the fireplace in his room and smoked and -read until supper time. At that meal only -he and Holly and Julian were present, and -the conversation was confined principally -to the former two. Julian was plainly out<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a>[192]</span> -of sorts and short of temper; his wooing, -Winthrop concluded, had not gone very -well that day. Holly seemed troubled, but -whether over Julian’s unhappiness or his -impoliteness Winthrop could not guess. -After supper they went out to the porch -for a while together, but Winthrop soon -bade them good-night. For some time -through the opened windows he could hear -the faint squeaking of the joggling-board -and the fainter hum of their low voices. At -ten Julian’s horse was brought around, -and he clattered away in the starlit darkness -toward Marysville. He heard Holly -closing the door down-stairs, heard her feet -patter up the uncarpeted stairway, heard -her humming a little tune under her breath. -The lamp was still lighted on his table, and -doubtless the radiance of it showed under -the door, for Holly’s footsteps came -nearer and nearer along the hall until—</p> - -<p>“Good-night, slave!” she called, softly.</p> - -<p>“Good-night, Miss Holly,” he answered.</p> - -<p>He heard her footsteps dying away, and -finally the soft closing of a door.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>[193]</span> -Thoughtfully he refilled his pipe and went -back to the chair in front of the dying -fire....</p> - -<p>The ashes were cold and a chill breeze -blew through the open casements. Winthrop -arose with a shiver, knocked the -ashes from his pipe and dropped it on the -mantel.</p> - -<p>“There’s no fool like an old—like a middle-aged -fool,” he muttered, as he blew -out the lamp.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>[194]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="X">X.</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="figcenter2" id="i_p194"> - <img src="images/i_p194.jpg" alt="Aunt Venus" title="Aunt Venus"> -</div> - -<p>Holly’s birthday was quite an event at -Waynewood. Aunt Venus outdid herself -and there never was such a dinner, from -the okra soup to the young guineas and on -to the snowy syllabub and the birthday -cake with its eighteen flaring pink candles. -Uncle Major was there, as were two of -Holly’s girl friends, and the little party of -six proved most congenial. Holly was in -the highest spirits; everyone she knew had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>[195]</span> -been so kind to her. Aunt India had given -her dimity for a new dress and a pair of -the gauziest white silk stockings that ever -crackled against the ear. The dimity was -white sprinkled with little Dresden flowers -of deep pink. Holly and Rosa and Edith -had spent fully -an hour before -dinner in enthusiastic -planning -and the fate of -the white dimity -was settled. It -was to be made -up over pale pink, and the skirt was -to be quite plain save for a single deep -flounce at the bottom. Rosa had just -the pattern for it and Holly was to drive -out to Bellair in a day or so and get it.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>[196]</span> -The Major had brought a blue plush case -lined with maroon satin and holding three -pairs of scissors, a bodkin, and two ribbon-runners.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p195"> - <img src="images/i_p195.jpg" alt="Holly's birthday cake" title="Holly's birthday cake"> -</div> - -<p>“I don’t know what those flat gimcracks -are for, Holly,” he said, as she kissed him, -“but ‘Ham’ he said he reckoned you’d -know what to do with them. I told him, -‘Ham, you’re a married man and I’m a -bachelor, and don’t you go and impose on -my ignorance. If there’s anything indelicate -about those instruments you take ’em -out.’ But he said as long as I didn’t see -’em in use it was all right and proper.”</p> - -<p>Julian had sent a tiny gold brooch and -Winthrop had presented a five-pound box -of candy. Of the two the candy made the -more pronounced hit. It had come all the -way from New York, and was such an imposing -affair with its light blue moire-paper -box and its yards of silk ribbon! -And then the wonderful things inside! -Candied violets and rose- and chrysanthemum-petals, -grapes hidden in coverings of -white cream, little squares of fruit-cake<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>[197]</span> -disguised as plebeian caramels, purple -raisins and white almonds buried side by -side in amber glacé, white and lavender -pellets that broke to nothing in the mouth -and left a surprising and agreeable flavor -of brandy, little smooth nuggets of gold -and silver and a dozen other fanciful -whims of the confectioner. The girls -screamed and laughed with delight, and -the Major pretended to feel the effects of -three brandy-drops and insisted on telling -Miss India about his second wife. There -had been other gifts besides. Holly’s old -“mammy” had walked in, three miles, with -six-guinea-eggs in a nest of gray moss; -Phœbe had gigglingly presented a yard of -purple silk “h’ar ribbon,” Aunt Venus -had brought a brown checked sun-bonnet of -her own making, and even Young Tom, -holding one thumb tightly between his -teeth and standing embarrassedly on one -dusty yellow foot, had brought his gift, a -bundle of amulets rolled out of newspaper -and artistically dyed in beet juice. Yes, -everyone had been very kind to Holly, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>[198]</span> -her eighteenth birthday was nothing short -of an occasion.</p> - -<p>In the afternoon Holly and Rosa and -the Major piled into his buggy and went -for a ride, while Miss India retired for her -nap, and Winthrop and Edith sat on the -porch. Miss Bartram was a tall, graceful, -golden-haired beauty of nineteen, with -sentimental gray eyes and an affectation -of world-weariness which Winthrop found -for a time rather diverting. They perched -on the joggling-board together and discussed -Holly, affinities, Julian Wayne, love, -Richmond, New York, Northern customs—which -Miss Edith found very strange and -bizarre—marriage in the abstract, marriage -in the concrete as concerned with -Miss Edith, flowers, Corunna, Major Cass, -milk-shakes, and many other subjects. -The girl was a confirmed flirt, and Winthrop -tired of her society long before relief -came in the shape of a laughing trio borne -into sight behind a jogging gray mule. After -supper they played hearts, after a fashion -introduced by Miss Bartram. Whoever<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>[199]</span> -held the queen of spades when a game was -ended received a smudge on the face -from each of the other players, whose privilege -it was to rub one finger in the soot -of the fireplace and inscribe designs on the -unfortunate one’s countenance. As the -queen of spades and Major Cass developed -an affinity early in the evening the latter -was a strange and fearsome sight when -the party broke up. The Major was to -take Miss Edith back to town with him, and -the latter entered the buggy to a chorus of -remonstrances from the other girls.</p> - -<p>“Oh, don’t you go with him!” cried -Rosa. “Your face will be a perfect sight -by the time you reach home!”</p> - -<p>“I really think, Major,” laughed Winthrop, -“that maybe you’d better wash the -side of your face next to Miss Bartram.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you-all worry so much,” responded -the Major. “Miss Edith isn’t -saying anything, is she? She knows it’s -dark and no one’s going to see her face -when she gets home. I don’t know what’s -coming to the ladies these days. When I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>[200]</span> -was younger they didn’t let a little thing -like a grain of smut interfere with a kiss -or two.”</p> - -<p>“Then don’t you let him have more than -two, Edith,” said Holly. “You heard -what he said.”</p> - -<p>“Merely a figure of speech, ladies,” replied -the Major. “I’ve heard there wasn’t -such a thing as a single kiss and I reckon -there ain’t such a thing as a pair of ’em; -eh, Mr. Winthrop?”</p> - -<p>“Always come by the dozen, as I understand -it,” answered Winthrop.</p> - -<p>Miss Edith gave a shriek.</p> - -<p>“I’m powerful glad I’m not riding home -with you, Mr. Winthrop!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it washes off quite easily, really!”</p> - -<p>The buggy trundled out of sight around -the corner of the drive to an accompaniment -of laughter and farewells. Miss -Rosa was to spend the night at Waynewood, -and she and Holly and Winthrop -returned to the joggling-board, the girls -spreading wraps over their shoulders. -There were clouds in the sky, and the air<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>[201]</span> -held promise of rain. Holly was somewhat -silent and soon dropped out of the conversation -altogether. Winthrop and Rosa -talked of books. Neither, perhaps, was a -great reader, but they had read some books -in common and these they discussed. Winthrop -liked Miss Rosa far better than Miss -Bartram. She was small, pretty in a soft-featured -way, quiet of voice and manner, -and all-in-all very girlish and sweet. She -was a few months younger than Holly. -She lived with her brother, Phaeton Carter, -on his plantation some eight miles out -on the Quitman road. Her parents were -dead, but before their deaths, she told him -wistfully, she had been all through the -North and knew Washington well. Her -father had served as Representative for -two terms. She aroused Winthrop’s sympathies; -there seemed so little ahead of -her; marriage perhaps some day with one -of their country neighbors, and after that -a humdrum existence without any of the -glad things her young heart craved. His -sympathy showed in his voice, which could<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>[202]</span> -be very soft and caressing when it wanted -to, and if Rosa dreamed a little that night -of an interesting Northerner with sympathetic -voice and eyes it wasn’t altogether -her fault. Meanwhile they were getting on -very well, so well that they almost forgot -Holly’s existence. But they were reminded -of it very suddenly. Holly jumped -off the board and seized Rosa by the hand.</p> - -<p>“Bed time,” she announced, shortly.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Holly!” cried the girl, in dismay. -“Why, it can’t be half-past ten yet!”</p> - -<p>“It’s very late,” declared Holly, severely. -“Come along!”</p> - -<p>Rosa allowed herself to be dragged off -the seat and into the house. Winthrop followed. -At the foot of the stairs he said -good-night, shaking hands as the custom -was.</p> - -<p>“Good-night, Mr. Winthrop,” said -Rosa, regretfully, smiling a trifle shyly at -him across the rail.</p> - -<p>“Good-night, Miss Carter. We’ll settle -our discussion when there is no ogress -about to drag you away. Good-night, Miss<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>[203]</span> -Holly. I hope there’ll be many, many -more birthdays as pleasant as this one.”</p> - -<p>“Good-night,” answered Holly, carelessly, -her hand lying limply in his. “I’m -not going to have any more birthdays—ever; -I don’t like birthdays.” The glance -which accompanied the words was hard, -antagonistic. “Will you please lock the -door, Mr. Winthrop?”</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry,” thought Winthrop, as he -made his way to his room. “She’s only -a child, and a child’s friendship is very -jealous. I should have remembered that.”</p> - -<div class="figleft" id="i_p204"> - <img src="images/i_p204.jpg" alt="Hunting" title="Hunting"> -</div> - -<p>Miss Rosa returned to Bellair the next -afternoon, and with her departure Holly’s -spirits returned. Winthrop smiled and -sighed at the same time. It was all so -palpable, so childish and—so sweet. There -was the disturbing thought. Why should -he find his heart warming at the contemplation -of Holly’s tiny fit of jealousy? -Was he really going to make a fool of himself -and spoil their pleasant comradeship -by falling in love with her? What arrant -nonsense! It was the silly romantic atmosphere<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>[204]</span> -that was doing the mischief! -Hang it all, a man could fall in love with -an Alaskan totem-pole here if he was in -company with it for half an hour! There -were three very excellent reasons why he -mustn’t let himself fall in love with Holly -Wayne, and it was plainly his duty to keep -a watch on himself. With that thought in -mind he spent more time away from -Waynewood than theretofore, throwing -himself on the companionship of the Major, -who was always delighted to have him -drop in at his office or at the Palmetto -House, where he lived; or riding out to -Sunnyside to spend the day with Colonel -Byers. The Major had loaned him a shotgun, -an antiquated 12-bore, and with this -and ’Squire Parish’s red setter Lee, he -spent much time afield and had some excellent -sport with the quail. Holly accused him -many times of being tired of her company, -adding once that she was sorry she wasn’t -as entertaining as Rosa Carter, whereupon -Winthrop reiterated his vows of fealty, but -declared that his lazy spell had passed,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>[205]</span> -that he was at last acclimated and no -longer satisfied with sweet inaction. And -Holly professed to believe him, but in her -heart was sure that the fault lay with her -and decided that when she was married to -Julian she would make him take her travelling -everywhere so that she could talk as -well as Rosa.</p> - -<div class="figleft" id="i_p206"> - <img src="images/i_p206.jpg" alt="December rains" title="December rains"> -</div> - -<p>December came in with a week of rainy -days, during which the last of the roses -were beaten from their stalks and the garden -drooped dank and disconsolate. Blue -violets, moist and fragrant under their -dripping leaves, were the only blooms the -garden afforded those days. Holly, to -whose pagan spirit enforced confinement -in-doors brought despair, took advantage -of every lift of the clouds to don a linen -cluster, which she gravely referred to as -her rain-coat, and her oldest sun-bonnet, -and get out amidst the drenched foliage. -Those times she searched the violet-beds -and returned wet and triumphant to the -house. Winthrop coming back from a -tramp to town one afternoon rounded the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>[206]</span> -curve of the carriage-road just as she regained -the porch.</p> - -<p>“Violets?” he asked, his eyes travelling -from the little cluster of blossoms and -leaves in her hand to the soft pink of her -cool, moist cheeks.</p> - -<p>“Yes, for the guest chamber,” answered -Holly.</p> - -<p>“You are expecting a visitor?” he asked, -his thoughts turning to Julian Wayne.</p> - -<p>“Stupid!” said Holly. “Your room is -the guest room. Didn’t you know it? -Wait, please, and I’ll put them in water for -you.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p207"> - <img src="images/i_p207.jpg" alt="Mr. Winthrop's room" title="Mr. Winthrop's room"> -</div> - -<p>She came back while Winthrop was taking -off his rain-coat. The violets were -nodding over the rim of a little glass. -Winthrop thanked her and bore them up-stairs. -The next morning Holly came -from her Aunt’s room, the door of which -was opposite Winthrop’s across the broad -hall. His door was wide open and on the -bureau stood the violets well in the angle -of a two-fold photograph frame of crimson -leather. Holly paused in the middle of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>[207]</span> -the hall and looked. It was difficult to see -the photographs, but one was the likeness -of a child, while the other, in deeper -shadow, seemed to be that of a woman. -She had never been in the room since Winthrop -had taken possession, but this morning -the desire to enter was strong. She -listened, glancing apprehensively at the -closed door of her Aunt’s room. There -was no danger from that direction, and she -knew that Winthrop had gone to the village.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>[208]</span> -Fearsomely, with thumping heart -and cheeks that alternately paled and -flushed, she stole across the floor to the -bureau. Clasping her hands behind her, -lest they should unwittingly touch something, -she leaned over and examined the -two portraits. The one on the left was -that of a young woman of perhaps twenty-two -years. So beautiful was the smiling -oval face with its great dark eyes that -Holly almost gasped as she looked. The -dress, of white shimmering satin, was cut -low, and the shoulders and neck were perfect. -A rope of small pearls encircled the -round throat and in the light hair, massed -high on the head, an aigrette tipped with -pearls lent a regal air to beauty. Holly -looked long, sighing she scarcely knew -why. Finally she drew her eyes away and -examined the other photograph, that of a -sturdy little chap of four or five years, his -feet planted wide apart and his chubby -hands holding tight to the hoop that -reached to his breast. Round-faced, grave-eyed -and curly-haired, he was yet a veritable<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>[209]</span> -miniature of Winthrop. But the eyes -were strongly like those in the other picture, -and Holly had no doubts as to the -identity of each subject. Holly drew away, -gently restored a fallen violet, and hurried -guiltily from the room.</p> - -<p>Winthrop did not return for dinner that -day, but sent a note by a small colored boy -telling them that he was dining with the -Major. Consequently the two ladies were -alone. When the dessert came on Miss -India said:</p> - -<p>“I think Mr. Winthrop would relish -some of this clabber for his supper, Holly. -It will do him good. I’ll put it in the safe, -my dear, and don’t let me forget to get it -out for him this evening.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t reckon he cares much for clabber, -Auntie.”</p> - -<p>“Not care for clabber! Nonsense, my -dear; everyone likes clabber. Besides, it’s -just what he ought to have after taking -dinner at the hotel; I don’t reckon they’ll -give him a thing that’s fit to eat. When -your father was alive he took me to Augusta<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>[210]</span> -with him once and we stopped at a -hotel there, and I assure you, Holly, there -wasn’t a thing I could touch! Such tasteless -trash you never saw! I always pity -folks that have to live at hotels, and I do -wish the Major would go to Mrs. Burson’s -for his meals.”</p> - -<p>“But the Bursons live mighty poorly, -Auntie.”</p> - -<p>“Because they have to, my child. If the -Major went there Mrs. Burson could spend -more on her table. She has one of the best -cooks in the town.” Holly made no reply -and presently Miss India went on: “Have -you noticed,” she asked, “how Mr. Winthrop -has improved since he came here, -Holly?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Auntie. He says himself that he’s -much better. He was wondering the other -day whether it wasn’t time to stop taking -the medicine.”</p> - -<p>“The tonic? Sakes, no! Why, that’s -what’s holding him up, my dear, although -he doesn’t realize it. I reckon he’s a much -sicker man than he thinks he is.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>[211]</span></p> - -<p>“He appears to be able to get around -fairly well,” commented Holly. “He’s always -off somewhere nowadays.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, and I’m afraid he’s overdoing it, -my dear. I must speak to him about it.”</p> - -<p>“Then we mightn’t get any more quail -or doves, Auntie.”</p> - -<p>“It would be just as well. Why he -wants to kill the poor defenceless creatures -I don’t see.”</p> - -<p>“But you know you love doves, Auntie,” -laughed Holly.</p> - -<p>“Well, maybe I do; but it isn’t right to -kill them, <em>I</em> know.”</p> - -<p>“Doesn’t it seem strange,” asked Holly -presently, her eyes on the bread she was -crumbling between her fingers, “that Mr. -Winthrop never says anything about his -wife?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve never yet heard him say he had a -wife,” answered Miss India.</p> - -<p>“Oh, but we know that he has. Uncle -Major said so.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t reckon the Major knows very -much about it. Maybe his wife’s dead.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>[212]</span></p> - -<p>“Oh,” said Holly, thoughtfully. Then: -“No, I don’t think she could be dead,” she -added, with conviction. “Do you—do you -reckon he has any children Auntie?”</p> - -<p>“Sakes, child, how should I know? It’s -no concern of ours, at any rate.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon we can wonder, though. And -it is funny he never speaks of her.”</p> - -<p>“Northerners are different,” said Miss -India sagely. “I reckon a wife doesn’t -mean much to them, anyhow.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you think Mr. Winthrop is nice, -Auntie?”</p> - -<p>“I’ve seen men I liked better and a heap -I liked worse,” replied her Aunt, briefly. -“But I’ll say one thing for Mr. Winthrop,” -she added, as she arose from her -chair and drew her shawl more closely -around her shoulders, “he has tact; I’ve -never heard him allude to the War. Tact -and decency,” she murmured, as she picked -her keys from the table. “Bring the -plates, Phœbe.”</p> - -<p>Four Sundays passed without the appearance -of Julian. Winthrop wondered.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>[213]</span> -“Either,” he reflected, “they have had a -quarrel or he is mighty sure of her. And -it can’t be a quarrel, for she gets letters -from him at least once a week. Perhaps -he is too busy at his work to spare the -time, although——” Winthrop shook his -head. He had known lovers who would -have made the time.</p> - -<p>The rainy weather passed northward -with its draggled skirts, and a spell of -warm days ushered in the Christmas season. -The garden smiled again in the sunlight, -and a few of the roses opened new -blooms. Winthrop took a trip to Jacksonville -a week before Christmas, spent two -days there, and purchased modest gifts for -Miss India, Holly, and the Major. The -former had flatteringly commissioned him -to make a few purchases for her, and Winthrop, -realizing that this showed a distinct -advance in his siege of the little lady’s liking, -spent many anxious moments in the -performance of the task. When he returned -he was graciously informed that he -had purchased wisely and well. Christmas<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>[214]</span> -fell on Saturday that year and Julian put -in an appearance Friday evening. Christmas -morning they went to church and at -two o’clock sat down to a dinner at which -were present besides the family and Winthrop, -Major Cass, Edith Bartram, and -Mr. and Mrs. Burson. Burson kept the livery -stable and was a tall, awkward, self-effacing -man of fifty or thereabouts, who -some twenty years before had in an unaccountable -manner won the toast of the -county for his bride. A measure of Mrs. -Burson’s former beauty remained, but on -the whole she was a faded, depressing little -woman, worn out by a long struggle -against poverty.</p> - -<p>The Major, who had been out in the -country in the morning, arrived late and -very dusty and went up to Winthrop’s -room to wash before joining the others. -When he came down and, after greeting -the assembled party, tucked his napkin under -his ample chin, he turned to Winthrop -with twinkling eyes.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Winthrop, sir,” he said, “I came<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>[215]</span> -mighty near not getting out of your room -again, sir. I saw that picture on your bureau -and fell down and worshipped. Gad, -sir, I don’t know when I’ve seen a more -beautiful woman, outside of the present -array! Yes, sir, I came mighty near staying -right there and feasting my eyes instead -of my body, sir. And a fine-looking -boy, too, Mr. Winthrop. Your family, I -reckon, sir?”</p> - -<p>“My wife and son,” answered Winthrop, -gravely.</p> - -<p>The conversation had died abruptly and -everyone was frankly attentive.</p> - -<p>“I envy you, sir, ’pon my word, I do!” -said the Major emphatically, between -spoonfuls of soup. “As handsome a woman -and boy as ever I saw, sir. They are -well, I trust, Mr. Winthrop?”</p> - -<p>“The boy died shortly after that portrait -was taken,” responded Winthrop. -There were murmurs of sympathy.</p> - -<p>“Dear, dear, dear,” said the Major, laying -down his spoon and looking truly distressed. -“I had no idea, Mr. Winthrop——!<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>[216]</span> -You’ll pardon me, sir, for my—my -unfortunate curiosity.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t apologize, Major,” answered -Winthrop, smilingly. “It has been six -years, and I can speak of it now with some -degree of equanimity. He was a great boy, -that son of mine; sometimes I think that -maybe the Lord was a little bit envious.”</p> - -<p>“The picture of you, sir,” said the Major, -earnestly. “But your lady, sir? She -is—ah—well, I trust?”</p> - -<p>“Quite, I believe,” answered Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“I am glad to hear it. I trust some day, -sir, you’ll bring her down and give us the -pleasure of meeting her.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” Winthrop replied, quietly.</p> - -<p>Holly began an eager conversation with -Julian and the talk became general, the -Major holding forth on the subject of Cuban -affairs, which were compelling a good -deal of attention in that winter of 1897–8. -After dinner they went out to the porch, -but not before the Major had, unnoticed, -stationed himself at the dining-room door -with a sprig of mistletoe in his hand.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>[217]</span> -Holly and Julian reached the door together -and with a portentous wink at Julian <a href="#i_fp216">the -Major held the little bunch of leaves and -berries over Holly’s head</a>. Winthrop, the -last to leave the room, saw what followed. -Julian imprisoned Holly’s hands in front -of her, leaned across her shoulder and -pressed a kiss on her cheek. There was a -little cry of alarm from Holly, drowned by -the Major’s chuckle and Julian’s triumphant -laugh. Holly’s eyes caught sight of -the mistletoe, the blood dyed her face, and -she smiled uncertainly.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_fp216"> - <img src="images/i_fp216.jpg" alt="" title=""> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noic"><a href="#Page_217">THE MAJOR HELD THE LITTLE BUNCH OF LEAVES AND BERRIES OVER -HOLLY’S HEAD</a></p> - </div> -</div> - -<p>“He caught you, my dear,” chuckled the -Major.</p> - -<p>“You’re a traitor, Uncle Major,” she -answered, indignantly. With a quick gesture -she seized the mistletoe from his grasp -and threw it across the room. As she -turned, her head in air, her eyes encountered -Winthrop’s and their glances clung -for an instant. He wondered afterwards -what she had read in his eyes for her own -grew large and startled ere the lids fell -over them and she turned and ran out<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>[218]</span> -through the hall. The rest followed laughing. -Winthrop ascended to his room, -closed his door, lighted a pipe and sat -down at an open window. From below -came the sound of voices, rising and falling, -and the harsh song of a red-bird in the -magnolia-tree. From the back of the -house came the sharp explosions of firecrackers, -and Winthrop knew that Young -Tom was beatifically happy. The firecrackers -had been Winthrop’s “Chrismus -gif.” But his thoughts didn’t remain long -with the occupants of the porch or with -Young Tom, although he strove to keep -them there. There was something he must -face, and so, tamping the tobacco down in -his pipe with his finger, he faced it.</p> - -<p>He was in love with Holly.</p> - -<p>The sudden rage of jealousy which had -surged over him down there in the dining-room -had opened his eyes. He realized -now that he had been falling in love with -her, deeper and deeper every day, ever -since his arrival at Waynewood. He had -been blinding himself with all sorts of excuses,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>[219]</span> -but to-day they were no longer convincing. -He had made a beastly mess of -things. If he had only had the common -sense to look the situation fairly in the face -a month ago! It would have been so simple -then to have beat a retreat. Now he -might retreat as far as he could go without -undoing the damage. Well, thank Heaven, -there was no harm done to anyone save -himself! Then he recalled the startled -look in Holly’s brown eyes and wondered -what she had read in his face. Could she -have guessed? Nonsense; he was too old -to parade his emotions like a school-boy. -Doubtless he had looked annoyed, disgusted, -and Holly had seen it and probably -resented it. That was all. Had he unwittingly -done anything to cause her to suspect? -He strove to remember. No, the -secret was safe. He sighed with relief. -Thank Heaven for that! If she ever -guessed his feelings what a fool she would -think him, what a middle-aged, sentimental -ass! And how she would laugh! But no, -perhaps she wouldn’t do just that; she was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>[220]</span> -too kind-hearted; but she would be amused. -Winthrop’s cheeks burned at the thought.</p> - -<p>Granted all this, what was to be done? -Run away? To what end? Running away -wouldn’t undo what was done. Now that -he realized what had happened he could -keep guard on himself. None suspected, -none need ever suspect, Holly least of all. -It would be foolish to punish himself unnecessarily -for what, after all, was no offense. -No; he would stay at Waynewood; -he would see Holly each day, and he would -cure himself of what, after all, was—could -be—only a sentimental attachment evolved -from propinquity and idleness. Holly was -going to marry Julian; and even were she -not——. Winthrop glanced toward the -photograph frame on the bureau—there -were circumstances which forbade him entering -the field. Holly was not for him. -Surely if one thoroughly realized that a -thing was unobtainable he must cease to -desire it in time. That was common sense. -He knocked the ashes from his pipe and -arose.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>[221]</span></p> - -<p>“That’s it, Robert, my boy,” he muttered. -“Common sense. If you’ll just -stick to that you’ll come out all right. -There’s nothing like a little, hard, plain -common sense to knock the wind out of -sentiment. Common sense, my boy, common -sense!”</p> - -<p>He joined the others on the porch and -conducted a very creditable flirtation with -Miss Edith until visitors began to arrive, -and the big bowl of eggnog was set in the -middle of the dining-room table and banked -with holly. After dark they went into town -and watched the fireworks on the green surrounding -the school-house. Holly walked -ahead with Julian, and Winthrop thought -he had never seen her in better spirits. She -almost seemed to avoid him that evening, -but that was perhaps only his fancy. -Returning, there were only Holly and Julian -and Winthrop, for Miss Bartram and -the Bursons returned to their homes and -the Major had been left at Waynewood -playing bezique with Miss India. For -awhile the conversation lagged, but Winthrop<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>[222]</span> -set himself the task of being agreeable -to Julian and by the time they reached -the house that youth had thawed out and -was treating Winthrop with condescending -friendliness. Winthrop left the young pair -on the porch and joined the Major and -Miss India in the parlor, watching their -play and hiding his yawns until the Major -finally owned defeat.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>[223]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XI">XI.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>Holly had grown older within the last -two months, although no one but Aunt India -realized it. It was as though her eighteenth -birthday had been a sharp line of -division between girlhood and womanhood. -It was not that Holly had altered either in -appearance or actions; she was the same -Holly, gay or serious, tender or tyrannical, -as the mood seized her; but the change was -there, even if Miss India couldn’t quite put -her finger on it. Perhaps she was a little -more sedate when she was sedate, a little -more thoughtful at all times. She read less -than she used to, but that was probably because -there were fewer moments when she -was alone. She was a little more careful -of her attire than she had been, but that -was probably because there was more reason -to look well. Miss India felt the -change rather than saw it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>[224]</span></p> - -<p>I have said that no one save Miss India -realized it, but that is not wholly true. For -Holly herself realized it in a dim, disquieting -way. The world in which she had spent -her first eighteen years seemed, as she -looked back at it, strangely removed from -the present one. There had been the same -sky and sunshine, the same breezes and -flowers, the same pleasures and duties, and -yet there had been a difference. It was -as though a gauze curtain had been rolled -away; things were more distinct, sensations -more acute; the horizon was where it -always had been, but now it seemed far -more distant, giving space for so many details -which had eluded her sight before. It -was all rather confusing. At times it -seemed to Holly that she was much happier -than she had been in that old world, -and there were times when the contrary -seemed true, times when she became oppressed -with a feeling of sorrowfulness. At -such moments her soft mouth would droop -at the corners and her eyes grow moist; -life seemed very tragic in some indefinable<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>[225]</span> -way. And yet, all the while, she knew in -her heart that this new world—this -broader, vaster, clearer world—was the -best; that this new life, in spite of its tragedy -which she felt but could not see, was -the real life. Sorrow bit sharper, joy was -more intense, living held a new, fierce zest. -Not that she spent much time in introspection, -or worried her head with over-much -reasoning, but all this she felt confusedly -as one groping in a dark room feels unfamiliar -objects without knowing what they -may be or why they are there. But Holly’s -groping was not for long. The door of understanding -opened very suddenly, and the -light of knowledge flooded in upon her.</p> - -<div class="figleft" id="i_p226"> - <img src="images/i_p226.jpg" alt="Uncle Ran" title="Uncle Ran"> -</div> - -<p>January was a fortnight old and Winter -held sway. The banana-trees drooped -blackened and shrivelled, the rose-beds -were littered with crumpled leaves, and -morning after morning a film of ice, no -thicker than a sheet of paper, but still real -ice, covered the water-pail on its shelf on -the back porch. Uncle Ran groaned with -rheumatism as he laid the morning fires,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a>[226]</span> -and held his stiffened fingers to the blaze -as the fat pine hissed and spluttered. To -Winthrop it was the veriest farce of a winter, -but the other inhabitants of Waynewood -felt the cold keenly. Aunt India kept -to her room a great deal, and when she did -appear down-stairs she seemed tinier than -ever under the great gray shawl. Her face -wore a pinched and anxious expression, as -though she were in constant fear of actually -freezing to death.</p> - -<p>“I don’t understand what has gotten -into our winters,” she said one day at dinner, -drawing her skirts forward so they -would not be scorched by the fire which -blazed furiously at her back. “They used -to be at least temperate. Now one might -as well live in Russia or Nova Zembla! -Phœbe, you forgot to put the butter on the -hearth and it’s as hard as a rock. You’re -getting more forgetful every day.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter2" id="i_p227"> - <img src="images/i_p227.jpg" alt="Removing the greenery" title="Removing the greenery"> -</div> - -<p>It was in the middle of the month, one -forenoon when the cold had moderated so -that one could sit on the porch in the sunshine -without a wrap and when the southerly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>[227]</span> -breeze held a faint, heart-stirring -promise of Spring—a promise speedily -broken,—that Winthrop came back to the -house from an after-breakfast walk over -the rutted clay road and found Holly removing -the greenery from the parlor walls -and mantel. She had spread a sheet in the -middle of the room and was tossing the -dried and crackling holly and the gummy -pine plumes onto it in a heap. As Winthrop -hung up his hat and looked in upon -her she was standing on a chair and, somewhat -red of face, was striving to reach -the bunch of green leaves and red berries -above the half-length portrait of her -father.</p> - -<p>“You’d better let me do that,” suggested -Winthrop, as he joined her.</p> - -<p>“No,” answered Holly, “I’m——going -to——get it——There!”</p> - -<p>Down came the greenery with a shower -of dried leaves and berries, and down -jumped Holly with a triumphant laugh.</p> - -<p>“Please move the chair over there,” she -directed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>[228]</span></p> - -<p>Winthrop obeyed, and started to step up -onto it, but Holly objected.</p> - -<p>“No, no, no,” she cried, anxiously. -“I’m going to do it myself. It makes me -feel about a foot high and terribly helpless -to have folks reach things down for me.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop smiled and held out his hand -while she climbed up.</p> - -<p>“There,” said Holly. “Now I’m going -to reach that if I—have to—stretch myself—out -of—shape!” It was a long reach, -but she finally accomplished it, laid hold of -one of the stalks and gave a tug. The tug -achieved the desired result, but it also -threw Holly off her balance. To save herself -she made a wild clutch at Winthrop’s -shoulder, and as the chair tipped over she -found herself against his breast, his arms -about her and her feet dangling impotently -in air. Perhaps he held her there an instant -longer than was absolutely necessary, -and in that instant perhaps his heart beat -a little faster than usual, his arms held her -a little tighter than before, and his eyes -darkened with some emotion not altogether<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a>[229]</span> -anxiety for her safety. Then he placed her -very gently on her feet and released her.</p> - -<p>“You see,” he began with elaborate unconcern, -“I told you——”</p> - -<p>Then he caught sight of her face and -stopped. It was very white, and in the -fleeting glimpse he had of her eyes they -seemed vast and dark and terrified.</p> - -<p>“It startled you!” he said, anxiously.</p> - -<p>She stood motionless for a moment, her -head bent, her arms hanging straight. -Then she turned and walked slowly toward -the door.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she said, in a low voice; “it——I -feel——faint.”</p> - -<div class="figright" id="i_p231"> - <img src="images/i_p231.jpg" alt="“I feel faint.”" title="“I feel faint.”"> -</div> - -<p>Very deliberately she climbed the stairs, -passed along the hall, and entered her -room. She closed the door behind her and -walked, like one in a dream, to the window. -For several minutes she stared unseeingly -out into the sunlit world, her hands -strained together at her breast and her -heart fluttering chokingly. The door of -understanding had opened and the sudden -light bewildered her. But gradually things<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a>[230]</span> -took shape. With a little sound that was -half gasp, half moan, she turned and fell -to her knees at the foot of her bed, her -tightly-clasped hands thrown out across -the snowy quilt and her cheek pillowed on -one arm. Tears welled slowly from under -her closed lids and seeped scorchingly -through her sleeve.</p> - -<p>“Don’t let me, dear God,” she sobbed, -miserably, “don’t let me! You don’t want -me to be unhappy, do you? You know he’s -a married man and a Northerner! And I -didn’t know, truly I didn’t know until just -now! It would be wicked to love him, -wouldn’t it? And you don’t want me to be -wicked, do you? And you’ll take him -away, dear God, where I won’t see him -again, ever, ever again? You know I’m -only just Holly Wayne and I need your -help. You mustn’t let me love him! You -mustn’t, you mustn’t....”</p> - -<p>She knelt there a long time, feeling very -miserable and very wicked,—wicked because -in spite of her prayers, which had -finally trailed off into mingled sobs and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>[231]</span> -murmurs, her thoughts flew back to Winthrop -and her heart throbbed with a -strange, new gladness. Oh, how terribly -wicked she was! It seemed to her that she -had lied to God! She had begged Him to -take Winthrop away from her and yet her -thoughts sought him every moment! She -had only to close her own eyes to see his, -deep and dark, looking down at her, and to -read again their wonderful, fearsome message; -to feel again the straining clasp of -his arms about her and the hurried thud -of his heart against her breast! She felt -guilty and miserable and happy.</p> - -<p>She wondered if God would hear her -prayer and take him away -from her. And suddenly she -realized what that would -mean. Not to see him -again—ever! No, no; she -couldn’t stand that! God must help her -to forget him, but He mustn’t take him -away. After all, was it so horribly wicked -to care for him as long as she never let -him know? Surely no one would suffer<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>[232]</span> -save herself? And she—well, she could -suffer. It came to her, then, that perhaps -in this new world of hers it was a woman’s -lot to suffer.</p> - -<p>Her thoughts flew to her mother. She -wondered if such a thing had ever happened -to her. What would she have done -had she been in Holly’s place? Holly’s -tears came creeping back again; she -wanted her mother very much just -then....</p> - -<p>As she sat at the open window, the faint -and measured tramp of steps along the -porch reached her. It was Winthrop, she -knew. And at the very thought her heart -gave a quick throb that was at once a joy -and a pain. Oh, why couldn’t people be -just happy in such a beautiful world? -Why need there be disappointments, and -heartaches? If only she could go to him -and explain it all! He would take her hand -and look down at her with that smiling -gravity of his, and she would say quite -fearlessly: “I love you very dearly. I -can’t help it. It isn’t my fault, nor yours.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>[233]</span> -But you must make it easy for me, dear. -You must go away now, but not for ever; I -couldn’t stand that. Sometimes you must -come back and see me. And when you are -away you will know that I love you more -than anything in the world, and I will know -that you love me. Of course, we must -never speak again of our love, for that -would be wicked. And you wouldn’t want -me to be wicked. We will be such good, -good friends always. Good-bye.”</p> - -<p>You see, it never occurred to her that -Winthrop’s straining arms, his quickening -heart-throbs, and the words of his eyes, -might be only the manifestation of a quite -temporal passion. She judged him by herself, -and all loves by that which her father -and mother had borne for each other. -There were still things in this new world -of hers which her eyes had not discerned.</p> - -<p>She wondered if Winthrop had understood -her emotion after he had released -her from his arms. For an instant, she -hoped that he had. Then she clasped her -hands closely to her burning cheeks and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>[234]</span> -thought that if he had she would never have -the courage to face him again! She hoped -and prayed that he had not guessed.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, regretfully for the pain she -must cause him, she recollected Julian. -She could never marry him now. She -would never, never marry anyone. She -would be an old maid, like Aunt India. -The prospect seemed rather pleasing than -otherwise. With such a precious love in -her heart she could never be quite lonely, -no matter if she lived to be very, very old! -She wondered if Aunt India had ever loved. -And just then Phœbe’s voice called her -from below and she went to the door and -answered. She bathed her hot cheeks and -wet eyes in the chill water, and with a long -look about the big square room, which -seemed now to have taken on the sacredness -of a temple of confession, she went -down-stairs.</p> - -<p>Winthrop had not guessed. She knew -that at once when she saw him. He was -eagerly anxious about her, and blamed -himself for her fright.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>[235]</span></p> - -<p>“I ought never to have let you try such -foolishness,” he said, savagely. “You -might have hurt yourself badly.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” laughed Holly, “but you were -there to catch me!”</p> - -<p>There was a caressing note in her voice -that thrilled him with longing to live over -again that brief moment in the parlor. -But he only answered, and awkwardly -enough, since his nerves were taut: “Then -please see that I’m there before you try it -again.”</p> - -<p>They sat down at table with Miss India, -to whom by tacit consent no mention was -made of the incident, and chattered gayly -of all things save the one which was crying -at their lips to be spoken. And Holly kept -her secret well.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>[236]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XII">XII.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>January and Winter had passed together. -February was nearly a week old. -Already the garden was astir. The violet-beds -were massed with blue, and the green -spikes of the jonquils showed tiny buds. -There was a new balminess in the air, a -new languor in the ardent sunlight. The -oaks were tasseling, the fig-trees were -gowning themselves in new green robes of -Edenic simplicity, the clumps of Bridal -Wreath were sprinkled with flecks of white -that promised early flowering and the -pomegranates were unfolding fresh leaves. -On the magnolia burnished leaves of tender -green squirmed free from brown sheaths -like moths from their cocoons. The south -wind blew soft and fresh from the Gulf, -spiced with the aroma of tropic seas. -Spring was dawning over Northern Florida.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>[237]</span></p> - -<p>It was Saturday afternoon, and Holly -was perched in the fig-tree at the end of -the porch, one rounded arm thrown back -against the dusky trunk to pillow her head, -one hand holding her forgotten book, one -slender ankle swinging slowly like a dainty -pendulum from under the hem of her skirt. -Her eyes were on the green knoll where -the oaks threw deep shadow over the red-walled -enclosure, and her thoughts wandered -like the blue-jay that flitted restlessly -through garden and grove. Life was a -turbid stream, these days, filled with perplexing -swirls—a stream that rippled with -laughter in the sunlight, and sighed in its -shadowed depths, and all the while flowed -swiftly, breathlessly on toward—what?</p> - -<div class="figright" id="i_p239"> - <img src="images/i_p239.jpg" alt="Julian Wayne on horseback" title="Julian Wayne on horseback"> -</div> - -<p>The sound of a horse’s hoofs on the road -aroused Holly from her dreams. She -lifted her head and listened. The hoof-beats -slackened at the gate, and then drew -nearer up the curving drive. The trees -hid the rider, however, and Holly could -only surmise his identity. It could -scarcely be Mr. Winthrop, for he had gone<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>[238]</span> -off in the Major’s buggy early in the forenoon -for an all-day visit to Sunnyside. -Then it must be Julian, although it was unlike -him to come so early. She slipped -from her seat in the tree and walked toward -the steps just as horse and rider -trotted into sight. It was Julian—Julian -looking very handsome and eager as he -threw himself from the saddle, drew the -reins over White Queen’s head and strode -toward the girl.</p> - -<p>“Howdy, Holly?” he greeted. “Didn’t -expect to see me so early, I reckon.” He -took her hand, drew her to him, and had -kissed her cheek before she thought to deny -him. She had grown so used to having him -kiss her when he came and departed, and -his kisses meant so little, that she forgot. -She drew herself away gravely.</p> - -<p>“I’ll call Uncle Ran,” she said.</p> - -<p>“All right, Holly.” Julian threw himself -on to the steps and lighted a cigarette, -gazing appreciatively about him. How -pretty it was here at Waynewood! Some -day he meant to own it. He was the only<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>[239]</span> -male descendant of the old family, and it -was but right and proper that the place -should be his. In a year or two that interloping -Yankee would be glad enough to -get rid of it. Then he would marry Holly, -succeed to the Old Doctor’s practice -and—— Suddenly he recollected that odd -note of Holly’s and drew it from his -pocket. Nonsense, of course, but it had -worried him a bit at first. She had been -piqued, probably, because he had not been -over to see her. He flicked the letter with -his finger and laughed softly. The idea of -Holly releasing him from their engagement! -Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure -that there was any engagement; for the -last three years there had been a tacit understanding -that some day they were to be -married and live at Waynewood, but Julian -couldn’t remember that he had ever out-and-out -asked Holly to marry him. He -laughed again. That was a joke on Holly. -He would ask her how she could break -what didn’t exist. And afterwards he -would make sure that it did exist. He had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"></a>[240]</span> -no intention of losing Holly. No, indeed! -She was the only girl in the world for him. -He had met heaps of pretty girls, but never -one who could hold a candle to his sweetheart.</p> - -<p>Holly came back followed by Uncle Ran. -The horse was led away to the stable, and -Holly sat down on the top step at a little -distance from Julian. Julian looked -across at her, admiration and mischief in -his black eyes.</p> - -<p>“So it’s all over between us, is it, -Holly?” he asked, with a soft laugh. Holly -looked up eagerly, and bent forward with -a sudden lighting of her grave face.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Julian,” she cried, “it’s all right, -then? You’re not going to care?”</p> - -<p>Julian looked surprised.</p> - -<p>“Care about what?” he asked, suspiciously.</p> - -<p>“But I explained it all in my note,” answered -Holly, sinking back against the pillar. -“I thought you’d understand, Julian.”</p> - -<p>“Are you talking about this?” he asked,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"></a>[241]</span> -contemptuously, tapping the letter against -the edge of the step. “Do you mean me -to believe that you were in earnest?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, quite in earnest,” she answered, -gently.</p> - -<p>“Shucks!” said Julian. But there was a -tone of uneasiness in his contempt. “What -have I done, Holly? If it’s because I -haven’t been getting over here to see you -very often, I want you to understand that -I’m a pretty busy man these days. Thompson’s -been getting me to do more and -more of his work. Why, he never takes a -night call any more himself; passes it over -to me every time. And I can tell you that -that sort of thing is no fun, Holly. Besides,”—he -gained reassurance from his -own defence—“you didn’t seem very particular -about seeing me the last time I was -here. I reckoned that maybe you and the -Yankee were getting on pretty well without -me.”</p> - -<p>“It isn’t that,” said Holly. “I—I told -you in the letter, Julian. Didn’t you read -it?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"></a>[242]</span></p> - -<p>“Of course I read it, but I couldn’t understand -it. You said you’d made a mistake, -and a lot of foolishness like that, and -had decided you couldn’t marry me. -Wasn’t that it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, that was it—in a way,” answered -Holly. “Well, I mean it, Julian.”</p> - -<p>Julian stared across impatiently.</p> - -<p>“Now don’t be silly, Holly! Who’s been -talking about me? Has that fellow Winthrop -been putting fool notions into your -head?”</p> - -<p>“No, Julian.”</p> - -<p>“Then what—— Oh, well, I dare say -I’ll be able to stand it,” he said, petulantly.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be angry, Julian, please,” begged -Holly. “I want you to understand it, -dear.”</p> - -<p>Holly indulged in endearments very seldom, -and Julian melted.</p> - -<p>“But, hang it, Holly, you talk as though -you didn’t care for me any more!” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“No, I’m not talking so at all,” she answered, -gently. “I do care for you—a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"></a>[243]</span> -heap. I always have and always will. -But I—I don’t love you as—as a girl loves -the man who is to be her husband, Julian. -I tried to explain that in my letter. You -see, we’ve always been such good friends -that it seemed sort of natural that we -should be sweethearts, and then I reckon -we just fell into thinking about getting -married. I don’t believe you ever asked -me to marry you, Julian; I—I just took it -for granted, I reckon!”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>“I don’t reckon you ever did,” she persisted, -with a little smile for his polite disclaimer. -“But I’ve always thought of -marrying you, and it seemed all right until—until -lately. I don’t reckon I ever -thought much about what it meant. We’ve -always been fond of each other and so it—it -seemed all right, didn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“It <em>is</em> all right, Holly,” he answered, -earnestly. He changed his seat to where -he could take her hand. “You’ve been -thinking about things too much,” he went -on. “I reckon you think that because I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"></a>[244]</span> -don’t come over oftener and write poetry -to you and all that sort of thing that I don’t -love you. Every girl gets romantic notions -at some time or other, Holly, and I -reckon you’re having yours. I don’t blame -you, Sweetheart, but you mustn’t get the -notion that I don’t love you. Why, you’re -the only woman in the world for me, -Holly!”</p> - -<p>“I don’t reckon you’ve known so very -many women, Julian,” said Holly.</p> - -<p>“Haven’t I, though? Why, I met dozens -of them when I was at college.” There -was a tiny suggestion of swagger. “And -some of them were mighty clever, too, and -handsome. But there’s never been anyone -but you, Holly, never once.”</p> - -<p>Holly smiled and pressed the hand that -held hers captive.</p> - -<p>“That’s dear of you, Julian,” she answered. -“But you must get over thinking -of me—in that way.”</p> - -<p>He drew back with an angry flush on his -face and dropped her hand. There was an -instant’s silence. Then:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"></a>[245]</span></p> - -<p>“You mean you won’t marry me?” he -demanded, hotly.</p> - -<p>“I mean that I don’t love you in the -right way, Julian.”</p> - -<p>“It’s that grinning Yankee!” he cried. -“He’s been making love to you and filling -your head with crazy notions. Oh, you -needn’t deny it! I’m not blind! I’ve seen -what was going on every time I came -over.”</p> - -<p>“Julian!” she cried, rising to her feet.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I have!” he went on, leaping up -and facing her. “A fine thing to do, isn’t -it?” he sneered. “Keep me dangling on -your string and all the while accept attentions -from a married man! And a blasted -Northerner, too! Mighty pleased your -father would have been!”</p> - -<p>“Julian! You forget yourself!” said -Holly, quietly. “You have no right to talk -this way to me!”</p> - -<p>“It’s you who forget yourself,” he answered, -slashing his riding-whip against -his boots. “And if I haven’t the right to -call you to account I’d like to know who<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"></a>[246]</span> -has! Miss Indy’s blind, I reckon, but I’m -not!”</p> - -<p>Holly’s face had faded to a white mask -from which her dark eyes flashed furiously. -But her voice, though it trembled, was quiet -and cold.</p> - -<p>“You’ll beg my pardon, Julian Wayne, -for what you’ve said before I’ll speak to -you again. Mr. Winthrop has never made -love to me in his life.”</p> - -<p>She turned toward the door.</p> - -<p>“You don’t dare deny, though, that you -love him!” cried Julian, roughly.</p> - -<p>“I don’t deny it! I won’t deny it!” -cried Holly, facing him in a blaze of wrath. -“I deny nothing to you. You have no right -to know. But if I did love Mr. Winthrop, -married though he is, I’d not be ashamed -of it. He is at least a gentleman!”</p> - -<p>She swept into the house.</p> - -<p>“By God!” whispered Julian, the color -rushing from his face. “By God! I’ll kill -him! I’ll kill him!” He staggered down -the steps, beating the air with his whip. A -moment later, Holly, sitting with clenched<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"></a>[247]</span> -hands and heaving breast in her room, -heard him shouting for Uncle Ran and his -horse. Ten minutes later he was riding -like a whirlwind along the Marysville road, -White Queen in an ecstasy of madness as -the whip rose and fell.</p> - -<p>But by the time the distance was half -covered Julian’s first anger had cooled, -leaving in its place a cold, bitter wrath -toward Winthrop, to whom he laid the -blame not only of Holly’s defection but of -his loss of temper and brutality. He was -no longer incensed with Holly; it was as -plain as a pikestaff that the sneaking Yankee -had bewitched her with his damned -grinning face and flattering attentions, all -the while, doubtless, laughing at her in his -sleeve! His smouldering rage blazed up -again and with a muttered oath Julian -raised his whip. But at Queen’s sudden -snort of terror he let it drop softly again, -compunction gripping him. He leaned forward -and patted the wet, white neck soothingly.</p> - -<p>“Forgive me, girl,” he whispered. “I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"></a>[248]</span> -was a brute to take it out on you. There, -there, easy now; quiet, quiet!”</p> - -<p>On Monday Holly received a letter from -him. It was humbly apologetic, and self-accusing. -It made no reference to Winthrop, -nor did it refer to the matter of the -broken engagement; only—</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p248"> - <img src="images/i_p248.jpg" alt="Julian writing to Holly" title="Julian writing to Holly"> -</div> - -<p>“Try and forget my words, Holly,” he -wrote, “and forgive me and let us be good -friends again just as we always have been. -I am going over to see you Saturday evening -to ask forgiveness in person, but I -shan’t bother you for more than a couple -of hours.”</p> - -<p>Holly, too, had long since repented, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"></a>[249]</span> -was anxious to forgive and be forgiven. -The thought of losing Julian’s friendship -just now when, as it seemed, she needed -friendship so much, had troubled and dismayed -her, and when his letter came she -was quite prepared to go more than halfway -to effect a reconciliation. Her answer, -written in the first flush of gratitude, -represented Holly in her softest mood, and -Julian read between the lines far more -than she had meant to convey. He folded -it up and tucked it away with the rest of -her letters and smiled his satisfaction.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p249"> - <img src="images/i_p249.jpg" alt="Holly writing to Julian" title="Holly writing to Julian"> -</div> - -<p>At Waynewood in those days life for -Holly and Winthrop was an unsatisfactory<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"></a>[250]</span> -affair, to say the least. Each strove to -avoid the other without seeming to do so, -with the result that each felt piqued. In -Winthrop’s case it was one thing to keep -out of Holly’s presence from motives of -caution, and quite another to find that she -was avoiding him. He believed that his -secret was quite safe, and so Holly’s apparent -dislike for his society puzzled and -disturbed him. When they were together -the former easy intimacy was absent and -in its place reigned a restlessness that -made the parting almost a relief. So affairs -stood when on the subsequent Saturday -Julian rode over to Waynewood again.</p> - -<p>It was almost the middle of February, -and the world was aglow under a spell of -warm weather that was quite unseasonable. -The garden was riotous with green -leaves and early blossoms. Uncle Ran confided -to Winthrop that “if you jes’ listens -right cahful you can hear the leaves -a-growin’ an’ the buds a-poppin’ open, -sir!” Winthrop had spent a restless day. -Physically he was as well as he had ever<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"></a>[251]</span> -been, he told himself; three months at -Waynewood had worked wonders for him; -but mentally he was far from normal. Of -late he had been considering more and -more the advisability of returning North. -It was time to get back into harness. He -had no doubt of his ability to retrieve his -scattered fortune, and it was high time that -he began. And then, too, existence here at -Waynewood was getting more complex and -unsatisfactory every day. As far as Miss -India’s treatment of him was concerned, -he had only cause for congratulation, for -his siege of that lady’s heart had been as -successful as it was cunning; only that -morning she had spoken to him of Waynewood -as “your property” without any -trace of resentment; but it was very evident -that Holly had wearied of him. That -should have been salutary knowledge, -tending to show him the absurdity and -hopelessness of his passion, but unfortunately -it only increased his misery without -disturbing the cause of it. Yes, it was high -time to break away from an ungraceful position,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"></a>[252]</span> -and get back to his own world—high -time to awake from dreams and face -reality.</p> - -<p>So his thoughts ran that Saturday afternoon, -as he walked slowly out from town -along the shaded road. As he came within -sight of Waynewood a horse and rider -turned in at the gate, and when Winthrop -left the oleander path and reached the sun-bathed -garden he saw that Julian and -Holly were seated together on the porch, -very deep in conversation—so interested -in each other, indeed, that he had almost -gained the steps before either of them became -aware of his presence. Holly looked -anxiously at Julian. But that youth was -on his good behavior. He arose and bowed -politely, if coldly, to Winthrop. Something -told the latter that an offer to shake -hands would not be a happy proceeding. -So he merely returned Julian’s bow as he -greeted him, remained for a moment in -conversation, and then continued on his -way up-stairs. Once in his room he lighted -a pipe and, from force of habit, sank into<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"></a>[253]</span> -a chair facing the empty fireplace. Life -to-day seemed extremely unattractive. After -ten minutes he arose, knocked out the -ashes briskly, and dragged his trunk into -the center of the room. He had made up -his mind.</p> - -<p>Supper passed pleasantly enough. Julian -was resolved to reinstall himself in -Holly’s good graces, even if it entailed being -polite to the Northerner. Holly was in -good spirits, while Winthrop yielded to an -excitement at once pleasant and perturbing. -Now that he had fully decided to return -North he found himself quite eager -to go; he wondered how he could have been -content to remain in idleness so long. Miss -India was the same as always, charming in -her simple dignity, gravely responsive to -the laughter of the others, presiding behind -the teapot with the appropriate daintiness -of a Chelsea statuette. Winthrop said -nothing of his intended departure to-morrow -noon; he would not give Julian -that satisfaction. After Julian had gone -he would inform Holly. They must be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"></a>[254]</span> -alone when he told her. He didn’t ask himself -why. He only knew that the blood was -racing in his veins to-night, that the air -seemed tinged with an electrical quality -that brought pleasant thrills to his heart, -and that it was his last evening at Waynewood. -One may be pardoned something on -one’s last evening.</p> - -<p>Contrary to his custom, and to all the -laws of Cupid’s Court, Winthrop joined -Julian and Holly on the porch after supper. -He did his best to make himself -agreeable and flattered himself that Holly, -at least, did not resent his presence. After -his first fit of resentment at the other’s -intrusion Julian, too, thawed out and, recollecting -his rôle, was fairly agreeable to -Winthrop. A silver moon floated above -the house and flooded the world with light. -The white walls shone like snow, and the -shadows were intensely black and abrupt. -No air stirred the sleeping leaves, and the -night was thrillingly silent, save when a -Whippoorwill sang plaintively in the -grove.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"></a>[255]</span></p> - -<p>At nine Julian arose to take his leave. -White Queen had been brought around by -Uncle Ran and was pawing the earth restively -beside the hitching-post outside the -gate at the end of the house. Doubtless -Julian expected that Winthrop would allow -him to bid Holly good-night unmolested. -But if so he reckoned without the -spirit of recklessness which controlled the -Northerner to-night. Winthrop arose with -the others and accompanied them along the -path to the gate, returning Julian’s resentful -glare with a look of smiling insouciance. -Julian unhitched White Queen and a moment -of awkward silence followed. Holly, -dimly aware of the antagonism, glanced -apprehensively from Julian to Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“That’s a fine horse you have there,” -said Winthrop, at last.</p> - -<p>“Do you think so?” answered Julian, -with a thinly-veiled sneer. “You know -something about horses, perhaps?”</p> - -<p>“Not much,” replied Winthrop, with a -good-natured laugh. “I used to ride when -I was at college.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"></a>[256]</span></p> - -<p>“Perhaps you’d like to try her?” suggested -Julian.</p> - -<p>“Thanks, no.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon you had better not,” Julian -drawled. “A horse generally knows when -you’re afraid of her.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’m not afraid,” said Winthrop. -“I dare say I’d manage to stick on, but it -is some time since I’ve ridden and my efforts -would only appear ridiculous to one -of your grace and ability.”</p> - -<p>“Your modesty does you credit, if your -discretion doesn’t,” replied the other, with -a disagreeable laugh. “I hadn’t done you -justice, Mr. Winthrop, it seems.”</p> - -<p>“How is that?” asked Winthrop, smilingly.</p> - -<p>“Why, it seems that you possess two -virtues I had not suspected you of having, -sir.”</p> - -<p>“You wound me, Mr. Wayne. I pride -myself on my modesty. And as for discretion——”</p> - -<p>“You doubtless find it useful at such -times as the present,” sneered Julian.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"></a>[257]</span></p> - -<p>“I really almost believe you are suspecting -me of cowardice,” said Winthrop, -pleasantly.</p> - -<p>“I really almost believe you are a mind-reader,” -mocked Julian.</p> - -<p>Their eyes met and held in the moonlight. -Julian’s face was white and -strained. Winthrop’s was smiling, but the -mouth set hard and there was a dangerous -sparkle in the eyes. Challenge met challenge. -Winthrop laughed softly.</p> - -<p>“You see, Miss Holly,” he said, turning -to her, “I am forced to exhibit my deficiencies, -after all, or stand accused of cowardice. -I pray you to mercifully turn your -eyes away.”</p> - -<p>“Please don’t,” said Holly, in a troubled -voice. “Really, Queen isn’t safe, Mr. Winthrop.”</p> - -<p>“The advice is good, sir,” drawled Julian. -“The mare isn’t safe.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, pardon me, the mare is quite safe,” -replied Winthrop, as he took the bridle -reins from Julian’s hand; “it’s I who am -not safe. But we shall see. At least, Miss<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"></a>[258]</span> -Holly, credit me with the modesty which -Mr. Wayne seems to begrudge me, for here -on the verge of the sacrifice I acknowledge -myself no horseman.”</p> - -<p>He placed his foot in the stirrup and -sprang lightly enough into the saddle. -White Queen flattened her ears as she felt -a new weight on her back, but stood quite -still while Winthrop shortened the reins.</p> - -<p>“Come on, Queen,” he said. The mare -moved a step hesitatingly and shook her -head. At that moment there was a sharp -cry of warning from Holly. Julian raised -the whip in his hand and brought it down -savagely, and the mare, with a cry of terror, -flung herself across the narrow roadway -so quickly that Winthrop shot out of -the saddle and crashed against the picket -fence, to lie crumpled and still in the moonlight. -Holly was beside him in the instant -and Julian, tossing aside his whip, sprang -after her.</p> - -<p>Holly turned blazing eyes upon him.</p> - -<p>“No, no!” she cried, wildly. “You -<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"></a>[259]</span>shan’t touch him! <a href="#i_fp258">Keep away! You’ve -killed him.</a> I won’t let you touch him!” -She threw one arm across Winthrop’s -breast protectingly, and with the other -sought to ward Julian away.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_fp258"> - <img src="images/i_fp258.jpg" alt="" title=""> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noic"><a href="#Page_259">“KEEP AWAY! YOU’VE KILLED HIM”</a></p> - </div> -</div> - -<p>“Hush!” he cried, tensely. “I must -look at him. He is only stunned. His head -struck the fence. Let me look at him.”</p> - -<p>“I won’t! I won’t!” sobbed the girl. -“You have done enough! Go for help!”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be a fool!” he muttered, kneeling -beside the still form and running a -hand under the vest. “You don’t want -him to die, do you? Here, hold his head up—so; -that’s it.” There was an instant’s -silence broken only by Holly’s dry, choking -sobs. Then Julian arose briskly to his feet. -“Just as I said,” he muttered. “Stunned. -Find Uncle Ran and we’ll take him into -the house and attend to him!”</p> - -<p>“No, no! I’ll stay here,” said Holly, -brokenly. “Hurry! Hurry!”</p> - -<p>For an instant Julian hesitated, scowling -down upon her. Then, with a muttered -word, he turned abruptly and ran toward -the house. Holly, huddled against the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"></a>[260]</span> -fence with Winthrop’s head on her knee, -held tightly to one limp hand and watched -with wide, terrified eyes. The face was so -white and cold in the moonlight! There -was a little troubled frown on the forehead, -as though the soul was wondering and perplexed. -Had Julian spoken the truth? -Was he really only stunned, or was this -death that she looked on? Would they -never come? She gripped his hand in a -sudden panic of awful fear. Supposing -death came and took him away from her -while she sat there impotent! She bent -closer above him, as though to hide him, -and as she did so he gave a groan. Her -heart leaped.</p> - -<p>“Dear,” she whispered, “it’s Holly. -She wants you. You won’t die, will you? -When you know that I want you, you won’t -leave me, will you? What would I do without -you, dear? I’ve so long to live!”</p> - -<p>Footsteps hurried across the porch and -down the steps. Very gently Holly yielded -her burden to Uncle Ran, and Winthrop was -carried into the house, where Aunt India,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"></a>[261]</span> -in a pink flowered wrapper, awaited them -at the head of the stairs. They bore Winthrop -into his room and laid him, still unconscious, -on his bed. Holly’s gaze clung -to the white face.</p> - -<p>“Get on Queen, Uncle Ran, and ride in -for the Old Doctor,” Julian directed. -“Tell him there’s a collar-bone to set. You -had better leave us, Holly.”</p> - -<p>“No, no!” cried Holly, new fear gripping -her heart.</p> - -<p>“Holly!” said her aunt. “Go at once, -girl. This is no place for you.” But Holly -made no answer. Her eyes were fixed on -the silent form on the bed. Julian laid his -hand on her arm.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he said. She started and tore -away from him, her eyes ablaze.</p> - -<p>“Don’t touch me!” she whispered, -hoarsely, shudderingly. “Don’t touch me, -Julian! You’ve killed him! I want never -to see you again!”</p> - -<p>“Holly!” exclaimed Miss India, astoundedly.</p> - -<p>“I am going, Auntie.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"></a>[262]</span></p> - -<p>Julian held the door open for her, looking -troubledly at her as she passed out. -But she didn’t see him. The door closed -behind her. She heard Julian’s quick -steps across the floor and the sound of -murmuring voices.</p> - -<p>A deep sob shook her from head to feet. -Falling to her knees she laid her forehead -against the frame of the door, her hands -clasping and unclasping convulsively.</p> - -<p>“Dear God,” she moaned, “I didn’t -mean this! I didn’t mean this!”</p> - -<div class="figcenter2" id="i_p262"> - <img src="images/i_p262.jpg" alt="A deep sob" title="A deep sob"> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"></a>[263]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIII">XIII.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>The effects of striking the head against -a well-built fence may vary in severity, -ranging all the way from a simple contusion -through concussion of the brain to -a broken neck. If unconsciousness results -it may last from a fraction of a second to—eternity. -In Winthrop’s case it lasted -something less than ten minutes, at the end -of which time he awoke to a knowledge of -a dully aching head and an uncomfortable -left shoulder. Unlike some other injuries, -a broken collar-bone is a plain, open-and-above-board -affliction, with small likelihood -of mysterious complications. It is possible -for the surgeon to tell within a day or two -the period of resulting incapacity. The -Old Doctor said two weeks. Sunday morning -Uncle Ran unpacked Winthrop’s trunk, -arranging the contents in the former places -with evident satisfaction. On Monday<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264"></a>[264]</span> -Winthrop was up and about the house, -quite himself save for the temporary loss -of his left arm and a certain stiffness of -his neck.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p264"> - <img src="images/i_p264.jpg" alt="Mr. Winthrop rehabilitating" title="Mr. Winthrop rehabilitating"> -</div> - -<p>Miss India was once more in her element. -As an invalid, Winthrop had been -becoming something of a disappointment, -but now he was once again in his proper -rôle. Miss India kept an anxiously watchful -eye on him, and either Uncle Ran or -Phœbe was certain to be hovering about -whenever he lifted his eyes. The number<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265"></a>[265]</span> -of eggnoggs and other strengthening beverages -which Winthrop was compelled to -drink during the ensuing week would be -absolutely appalling if set down in cold -print.</p> - -<p>Of Holly he caught but brief glimpses -those first days of his disability. She was -all soft solicitude, but found occupations -that kept her either at the back of the -house or in her chamber. She feared that -Winthrop was awaiting a convenient moment -when they were alone to ask her -about the accident. As a matter of fact, -he had little curiosity about it. He was -pretty certain that Julian had in some -manner frightened the horse, but he had -not heard the sound of the whip, since -Holly’s sudden cry and the mare’s instant -start had drowned it. It seemed a very -slight matter, after all. Doubtless Julian’s -rage had mastered him for the instant, and -doubtless he was already heartily ashamed -of himself. Indeed his ministrations to -Winthrop pending the arrival of the Old -Doctor had been as solicitous as friendship<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266"></a>[266]</span> -could have demanded. Winthrop was -quite ready to let by-gones be by-gones.</p> - -<p>“Besides,” Winthrop told himself, “I -deliberately led him on to lose control of -himself. I’m as much to blame as he is. -I wasn’t in my right mind myself that -night; maybe the evening ended less disastrously -than it might have. I dare say it -was the moonlight. I’ve blamed everything -so far on the weather, and the moonlight -might as well come in for its share. -Served me right, too, for wanting to make -a holy show of myself on horseback. Oh, -I was decidedly mad that night; moon-mad, -that’s it.” He reflected a moment, -then— “The worst thing about being -knocked unconscious,” he went on, “is that -you don’t know what happens until you -come to again. Now I’d like to have looked -on at events. For instance, I’d give a -thousand dollars—if I still possess that -much—to know what Holly did or said, or -didn’t do. I think I’ll ask her.”</p> - -<p>He smiled at the idea. Then—</p> - -<p>“Why not?” he said, half aloud. “I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267"></a>[267]</span> -want to know; why not ask? Why, hang -it all, I will ask! And right now, too.”</p> - -<p>He arose from the chair in the shade of -the Baltimore Belle and walked to the door.</p> - -<p>“Miss Holly,” he called.</p> - -<p>“Yes?” The voice came from up-stairs.</p> - -<p>“Are you very, very busy?”</p> - -<p>“N-no, not very, Mr. Winthrop.”</p> - -<p>“Then will you grant a dying man the -grace of a few moments of your valuable -time?”</p> - -<p>There was a brief moment of hesitation, -broken by the anxious voice of Miss India.</p> - -<p>“Holly!” called her aunt, indignantly, -“go down at once and see what Mr. Winthrop -wants. I reckon Phœbe has forgotten -to take him his negus.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop smiled, and groaned. Holly’s -steps pattered across the hall and he went -back to the end of the porch, dragging a -second chair with him and placing it opposite -his own. When Holly came he pointed -to it gravely. Holly’s heart fell. Winthrop -had a right to know the truth, but it -didn’t seem fair that the duty of confessing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268"></a>[268]</span> -Julian’s act should fall to her. The -cowardice of it loomed large and terrible -to her.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p268"> - <img src="images/i_p268.jpg" alt="Winthrop gathers information" title="Winthrop gathers information"> -</div> - -<p>“Miss Holly,” said Winthrop, “I am -naturally curious to learn what happened -the other night. Now, as you were an eye-witness -of the episode, I come to you for -information.”</p> - -<p>“You mean that I’ve come to you,” answered -Holly, smiling nervously.</p> - -<p>“True; I accept the correction.”</p> - -<p>“What—what do you want to know?” -asked Holly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269"></a>[269]</span></p> - -<p>“All, please.”</p> - -<p>Holly’s eyes dropped, and her hands -clutched each other desperately in her lap.</p> - -<p>“I—he—oh, Mr. Winthrop, he didn’t -know what he was doing; truly he didn’t! -He didn’t think what might happen!”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p269"> - <img src="images/i_p269.jpg" alt="Holly explains" title="Holly explains"> -</div> - -<p>“He? Who? Oh, you mean Julian? Of -course he didn’t think; I understand that -perfectly. And it’s of no consequence, -really, Miss Holly. He was angry; in fact,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270"></a>[270]</span> -I’d helped make him so; he acted on the -impulse.”</p> - -<p>“Then you knew?” wondered Holly.</p> - -<p>“Knew something was up, that’s all. I -suppose he flicked the mare with the whip; -I dare say he only wanted to start her for -me.”</p> - -<p>Holly shook her head.</p> - -<p>“No, it wasn’t that. He—he cut her -with the whip as hard as he could.” Winthrop -smiled at her tragic face and voice.</p> - -<p>“Well, as it happens there was little -harm done. I dare say he’s quite as regretful -about it now as you like. What I -want to know is what happened afterwards, -after I—dismounted.”</p> - -<p>“Oh,” said Holly. Her eyes wandered -from Winthrop’s and the color crept -slowly into her face.</p> - -<p>“Well,” he prompted, presently. “You -are not a very good chronicler, Miss -Holly.”</p> - -<p>“Why, afterwards——oh, Julian examined -you and found that you weren’t -killed——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271"></a>[271]</span></p> - -<p>“There was doubt about that, then?”</p> - -<p>“I—we were frightened. You were all -huddled up against the fence and your face -was so white——”</p> - -<p>Holly’s own face paled at the recollection. -Winthrop’s smile faded, and his -heart thrilled.</p> - -<p>“I’m sorry I occasioned you uneasiness, -Miss Holly,” he said, earnestly. “Then -they carried me into the house and up to -my room, I suppose. And that was all -there was to it,” he added, regretfully and -questioningly. It had been rather tame -and uninteresting, after all.</p> - -<p>“Yes——no,” answered Holly. “I—stayed -with you while Julian went for Uncle -Ran. I thought once you were really -dead, after all. Oh, I was so—so frightened!”</p> - -<p>“He should have stayed himself,” said -Winthrop, with a frown. “It was a shame -to put you through such an ordeal.”</p> - -<p>There was a little silence. Then Holly’s -eyes went back to Winthrop’s quite fearlessly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272"></a>[272]</span></p> - -<p>“I wouldn’t let him,” she said. “I was -angry. I told him he had killed you, and I -wouldn’t let him touch you—at first. I—I -was so frightened! Oh, you don’t know -how frightened I was!”</p> - -<p>She knew quite well what she was doing. -She knew that she was laying her heart -quite bare at that moment, that her voice -and eyes were telling him everything, and -that he was listening and comprehending! -But somehow it seemed perfectly right and -natural to her. Why should she treat her -love—their love—as though it was something -to be ashamed of, to hide and avoid? -Surely the very fact that they could never -be to each other as other lovers, ennobled -their love rather than degraded it!</p> - -<p>And as they looked at each other across -a little space her eyes read the answer to -their message and her heart sang happily -for a moment there in the sunlight. Then -her eyes dropped slowly before the intensity -of his look, a soft glow spread upward -into her smooth cheeks, and she smiled -very gravely and sweetly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273"></a>[273]</span></p> - -<p>“I’ve told you, haven’t I!” she said, -tremulously.</p> - -<p>“Holly!” he whispered. “Holly!”</p> - -<p>He stretched his hand toward her, only -to let it fall again as the first fierce joy -gave place to doubt and discretion. He -strove to think, but his heart was leaping -and his thoughts were in wild disorder. -He wanted to fall on his knees beside her, -to take her in his arms, to make her look -at him again with those soft, deep, confessing -eyes. He wanted to whisper a thousand -endearments to her, to sigh “Holly, -Holly,” and “Holly” again, a thousand -times. But the moments ticked past, and -he only sat and held himself to his chair -and was triumphantly happy and utterly -miserable in all his being. Presently Holly -looked up at him again, a little anxiously -and very tenderly.</p> - -<p>“Are you sorry for me!” she asked, -softly.</p> - -<p>“For you and for myself, dear,” he answered, -“unless——”</p> - -<p>“Will it be very hard?” she asked.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274"></a>[274]</span> -“Would it have been easier if I hadn’t—hadn’t——”</p> - -<p>“No, a thousand times no, Holly! But, -dear, I never guessed——”</p> - -<p>Holly shook her head, and laughed very -softly.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t mean you to know, I reckon; -but somehow it just—just came out. I -couldn’t help it. I reckon I ought to have -helped it, but you see I’ve never—cared -for anyone before, and I don’t know how -to act properly. Do you think I am awfully—awfully—you -know; do you?”</p> - -<p>“I think you’re the best, the dearest——” -He stopped, with something that -was almost a sob. “I can’t tell you what -I think you are, Holly; I haven’t the words, -dear.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t suppose you ought to, anyhow,” -said Holly, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“Holly, have I—have I been to blame?”</p> - -<p>“No,” she answered quickly. “It was -just—just me, I reckon. I prayed God that -He wouldn’t let me love you, but I reckon -He has to look after so many girls that—that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275"></a>[275]</span> -care for the wrong people that He -didn’t have time to bother with Holly -Wayne. Anyhow, it didn’t seem to do -much good. Maybe, though, He wanted me -to love you—in spite of—of everything. -Do you reckon He did?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said Winthrop, fiercely, “I -reckon He did. And He’s got to take the -consequences! Holly, I’m not fit for you; -I’m twenty years older than you are; I’ve -been married and I’ve had the bloom -brushed off of life, dear; but if you’ll take -me, Holly, if you’ll take me, dear——”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” Holly arose to her feet and held -a hand toward him appealingly. “Please -don’t! Please!” she cried. “Don’t spoil -it all!”</p> - -<p>“Spoil it?” he asked, wonderingly.</p> - -<p>He got slowly to his feet and moved toward -her.</p> - -<p>“You know what I mean,” said Holly, -troubledly. “I do love you, and you love -me——you do love me, don’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he answered, simply.</p> - -<p>“And we can’t be happy—that way.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276"></a>[276]</span> -But we can care for each other—always—a -great deal, and not make it hard to—to——”</p> - -<p>She faltered, the tears creeping one by -one over her lids. A light broke upon -Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“But you don’t understand!” he cried.</p> - -<p>“What?” she faltered, looking up at him -anxiously, half fearfully, from swimming -eyes as he took her hand.</p> - -<p>“Dear, there’s no wrong if I——”</p> - -<p>Sounds near at hand caused him to stop -and glance around. At the gate Julian -Wayne was just dismounting from White -Queen. Holly drew her hand from Winthrop’s -and with a look, eager and wondering, -hurried in-doors just as Julian opened -the gate. Winthrop sank into his chair and -felt with trembling fingers for his cigarette-case. -Julian espied him as he mounted -the steps and walked along the porch very -stiffly and determinedly.</p> - -<div class="figright" id="i_p277"> - <img src="images/i_p277.jpg" alt="Julian apologizes" title="Julian apologizes"> -</div> - -<p>“Good-morning,” said Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“Good-morning, sir,” answered Julian. -“I have come to apologize for what occurred—for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277"></a>[277]</span> -what I did the other night. -I intended coming before, but it was -impossible.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t say anything more about it,” -replied Winthrop. “I understand. You -acted on a moment’s impulse and my poor -horsemanship did the rest. It’s really not -worth speaking of.”</p> - -<p>“On the contrary I did it quite deliberately,” -answered Julian. “I meant to do -it, sir. But I had no thought of injuring -you. I—I only wanted Queen to cut up. -If you would like satisfaction, Mr. Winthrop——”</p> - -<p>Winthrop stared.</p> - -<p>“My dear fellow,” he ejaculated, “you -aren’t proposing a duel, are you?”</p> - -<p>“I am quite at your service, sir,” replied -Julian, haughtily. “If the idea of reparation -seems ridiculous to you——”</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon, really,” said Winthrop, -gravely and hurriedly. “It was -only that I had supposed duelling to be obsolete.”</p> - -<p>“Not among gentlemen, sir!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278"></a>[278]</span></p> - -<p>“I see. Nevertheless, Mr. Wayne, I’m -afraid I shall have to refuse you. I am -hardly in condition to use either sword or -pistol.”</p> - -<p>“If that is all,” answered Julian, eagerly, -“I can put my left arm in a sling, -too. That would put us on even terms, I -reckon, sir.”</p> - -<p>Winthrop threw out his hand with a gesture -of surrender, and laughed amusedly.</p> - -<p>“I give in,” he said. “You force me to -the unromantic acknowledgment that I’ve -never used a sword, and can’t shoot a revolver -without jerking the barrel all -around.”</p> - -<p>“You find me mighty amusing, it -seems,” said Julian, hotly.</p> - -<p>“My dear fellow——”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know anything more about -swords or pistols than you do, I reckon, -sir, but I’ll be mighty glad to—to——”</p> - -<p>“Cut my head off or shoot holes through -me? Thanks, but I never felt less like -departing this life than I do now, Mr. -Wayne.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279"></a>[279]</span></p> - -<p>“Then you refuse?”</p> - -<p>“Unconditionally. The fact is, you -know, I, as the aggrieved party, am the -one to issue the challenge. As long as I am -satisfied with your apology I don’t believe -you have any right to insist on shooting -me.”</p> - -<p>Julian chewed a corner of his lip and -scowled.</p> - -<p>“I thought maybe you weren’t satisfied,” -he suggested hopefully.</p> - -<p>Winthrop smiled.</p> - -<p>“Quite satisfied,” he answered. “Won’t -you sit down?”</p> - -<p>Julian hesitated and then took the chair -indicated, seating himself very erect on the -edge, his riding-whip across his knees.</p> - -<p>“Will you smoke?” asked Winthrop, -holding forth his cigarette-case.</p> - -<p>“No, thanks,” replied Julian, stiffly.</p> - -<p>There was a moment’s silence while -Winthrop lighted his cigarette and Julian -observed him darkly. Then—</p> - -<p>“Mr. Winthrop,” said Julian, “how -long do you intend to remain here, sir?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280"></a>[280]</span></p> - -<p>“My plans are a bit unsettled,” answered -Winthrop, tossing the burnt match -onto the walk. “I had intended leaving -Sunday, but my accident prevented. Now -I am undecided. May I enquire your reason -for asking, Mr. Wayne?”</p> - -<p>“Because I wanted to know,” answered -Julian, bluntly. “Your presence here is—is -distasteful to me and embarrassing to -Miss India and Miss Holly.”</p> - -<p>“Really!” gasped Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir, and you know it. Anyone but -a Northerner would have more feeling -than to force himself on the hospitality of -two unfortunate ladies as you have done, -Mr. Winthrop.”</p> - -<p>“But—but——!” Winthrop sighed, and -shook his head helplessly. “Oh, there’s no -use in my trying to get your view, I guess. -May I ask, merely as a matter of curiosity, -whether the fact that Waynewood is my -property has anything to do with it in your -judgment.”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, it hasn’t! I don’t ask how you -came into possession of the place——”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281"></a>[281]</span></p> - -<p>“Thank you,” murmured Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“But in retaining it you are acting -abominably, sir!”</p> - -<p>“The deuce I am! May I ask what you -would advise me to do with it? Shall I -hand it over to Miss India or Miss Holly -as—as a valentine?”</p> - -<p>“Our people, sir, don’t accept charity,” -answered Julian, wrathfully.</p> - -<p>“So I fancied. Then what would you -suggest? Perhaps you are in a position -to buy it yourself, Mr. Wayne?”</p> - -<p>Julian frowned and hesitated.</p> - -<p>“You had no business taking it,” he -muttered.</p> - -<p>“Granted for the sake of argument, sir. -But, having taken it, now what?”</p> - -<p>Julian hesitated for a moment. Then—</p> - -<p>“At least you’re not obliged to stay here -where you’re not wanted,” he said, explosively.</p> - -<p>Winthrop smiled deprecatingly.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Wayne, I’d like to ask you one -question. Did you come here this morning -on purpose to pick a quarrel with me?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282"></a>[282]</span></p> - -<p>“I came to apologize for what happened -Saturday night. I’ve told you so already.”</p> - -<p>“You have. You have apologized like a -gentleman and I have accepted your apology -without reservations. That is finished. -And now I’d like to make a suggestion.”</p> - -<p>“Well?” asked Julian, suspiciously.</p> - -<p>“And that is that if your errand is at an -end you withdraw from my property until -you can address me without insults.”</p> - -<p>Julian’s face flushed; he opened his lips -to speak, choked back the words, and arose -from his chair.</p> - -<p>“Don’t misunderstand me, please,” went -on Winthrop, quietly. “I am not turning -you out. I should be glad to have you remain -as long as you like. Only, if you -please, as long as you are in a measure my -guest, you will kindly refrain from impertinent -criticisms of my actions. I’d dislike -very much to have you weaken my faith in -Southern courtesy, Mr. Wayne.”</p> - -<p>Julian’s reply was never made, for at -that instant Holly and Miss India came out<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283"></a>[283]</span> -on the porch. Holly’s first glance was toward -Winthrop. Then, with slightly -heightened color, she greeted Julian kindly. -He seized her hand and looked eagerly into -her smiling face.</p> - -<p>“Am I forgiven?” he asked, in an anxious -whisper.</p> - -<p>“Hush,” she answered, “it is I who -should ask that. But we’ll forgive each -other.” She turned to Winthrop, who had -arisen at their appearance, and Julian -greeted Miss India.</p> - -<p>“What have you gentlemen been talking -about for so long?” asked Holly, gayly.</p> - -<p>“Many things,” answered Winthrop. -“Mr. Wayne was kind enough to express -his regrets for my accident. Afterwards -we discussed”—he paused and shot a -whimsical glance at Julian’s uneasy countenance—“Southern -customs, obsolete and -otherwise.”</p> - -<p>“It sounds very uninteresting,” laughed -Holly. Then—“Why, Uncle Ran hasn’t -taken your horse around, Julian,” she exclaimed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284"></a>[284]</span></p> - -<p>“I didn’t call him. I am going right -back.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense, Julian, dinner is coming on -the table now,” said Holly.</p> - -<p>“It’s much too warm to ride in the middle -of the day,” said Miss India, decisively. -“Tell Phœbe to lay another place, -Holly.” Julian hesitated and shot a questioning -glance at Winthrop.</p> - -<p>“You are quite right, Miss India,” said -Winthrop. “This is no time to do twelve -miles on horseback. You must command -Mr. Wayne to remain. No one, I am sure, -has ever dared disregard a command of -yours.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell Phœbe and call Uncle Ran,” -said Holly. But at the door she turned -and looked across the garden. “Why, here -is Uncle Major! We’re going to have a -regular dinner party, Auntie.”</p> - -<p>The Major, very warm and somewhat -breathless, was limping his way hurriedly -around the rose-bed, his cane tapping the -ground with unaccustomed force.</p> - -<p>“Good-morning, Miss India,” he called.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285"></a>[285]</span> -“Good-morning, Holly; good-morning, -gentlemen. Have you heard the news?”</p> - -<p>“Not a word of it,” cried Holly, darting -to the steps and pulling him up. “Tell -me quick!”</p> - -<p>The Major paused at the top of the little -flight, removed his hat, wiped his moist -forehead, and looked impressively about -the circle.</p> - -<p>“The battleship <i>Maine</i> was blown up -last night in Havanna harbor by the -damned—I beg your pardon, ladies—by -the pesky Spaniards and nearly three hundred -officers and men were killed.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” said Holly, softly.</p> - -<p>“I never!” gasped Miss India.</p> - -<p>“It is known that the Spanish did it?” -asked Winthrop, gravely.</p> - -<p>“There can be no doubt of it,” answered -the Major. “They just got the news half -an hour ago at the station and particulars -are meager, but there’s no question about -how it happened.”</p> - -<p>“But this,” cried Julian, “means——!”</p> - -<p>“It means intervention at last!” said the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_286"></a>[286]</span> -Major. “And intervention means war, by -Godfrey!”</p> - -<p>“War!” echoed Julian, eagerly.</p> - -<p>“And if it wasn’t for this da—this trifling -leg of mine, I’d volunteer to-morrow,” -declared the Major.</p> - -<p>“How awful!” sighed Miss India. -“Think of all those sailors that are killed! -I never did like the Spanish, Major.”</p> - -<p>“It may be,” said Winthrop, “that the -accident will prove to have been caused by -an explosion on board.”</p> - -<p>“Shucks!” said Julian. “That’s rubbish! -The Spaniards did it, as sure as -fighting, and, by Jupiter, if they think they -can blow up our ships and kill our men and -not suffer for it—— How long do you -reckon it’ll be, Major, before we declare -war on them?”</p> - -<p>“Can’t say; maybe a week, maybe a -month. I reckon Congress will have to -chew it over awhile. But it’s bound to -come, and—well, I reckon I’m out of it, -Julian,” concluded the Major, with a sigh.</p> - -<p>“But I’m not!” cried the other. “I’ll<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_287"></a>[287]</span> -go with the hospital corps. It’s the chance -of a lifetime, Major! Why, a man can get -more experience in two weeks in a field -hospital than he can in two years anywhere -else! Why——”</p> - -<p>“The bell has rung,” interposed Miss -India. “You must take dinner with us, -Major, and tell us everything you know. -Dear, dear, I feel quite worked up! I remember -when the news came that our army -had fired on Fort Sumter——”</p> - -<p>Winthrop laid his hand on the Major’s -arm and halted him.</p> - -<p>“Major,” he said, smiling slightly, -“don’t you think you ought to explain to -them that the <i>Maine</i> wasn’t a Confederate -battleship, that she belonged to the United -States and that probably more than half -her officers and men were Northerners?”</p> - -<p>“Eh? What?” The Major stared bewilderedly -a moment. Then he chuckled -and laid one big knotted hand on Winthrop’s -shoulder. “Mr. Winthrop, sir,” -he said, “I reckon all that doesn’t matter -so much now.”</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_288"></a>[288]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="XIV">XIV.</h2> -</div> - - -<p>“I’m going for a walk with Mr. Winthrop, -Auntie,” said Holly. She fastened -a broad-brimmed hat on her head and -looked down at Miss India with soft, shining -eyes. Dinner was over and Miss India, -the Major and Julian were sitting in a -shady spot on the porch. Winthrop -awaited Holly at the steps.</p> - -<p>“Well, my dear,” answered Miss India. -“But keep Mr. Winthrop away from those -dark, damp places, Holly. It’s so easy to -get the feet wet at this time of year.”</p> - -<p>“You see, Uncle Major,” laughed Holly, -“she doesn’t care whether I catch cold or -not; it’s just Mr. Winthrop!”</p> - -<p>“Holly!” expostulated her Aunt.</p> - -<p>“She knows, my dear,” said the Major, -gallantly, “that those little feet of yours -will skim the wet places like swallows!”</p> - -<p>“Thank you, sir!” She made a face at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_289"></a>[289]</span> -the Major. “You will be here when we -get back, won’t you, Julian?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” answered Julian, dismally.</p> - -<p>“We won’t be long.” She nodded to the -trio and joined Winthrop, and side by side -they went down the steps, wound through -the garden and disappeared into the oleander -path. Julian watched them with a pain -at his heart until they were out of sight, -and for several minutes afterwards he sat -silent, thinking bitter thoughts. Then a -remark of the Major’s aroused him and -he leaped impetuously into the conversation.</p> - -<p>“Trouble!” he exclaimed. “Why, we -can clear the Spaniards out of Cuba in two -weeks. Look at our ships! And look at -our army! There isn’t a better one in the -world! Trouble! Why, it’ll be too easy; -you’ll see; it’ll be all over before we know -it!”</p> - -<p>“I dread another war, Major,” said -Miss India, with a little shudder. “The -last one was so terrible.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_290"></a>[290]</span></p> - -<p>“It was, ma’am, it was. It was brother -kill brother. But this one will be different, -Miss Indy, for North and South will -stand together and fight together, and, by -Godfrey, there’ll be no stopping until -Spanish dominion in Cuba is a thing of the -past!”</p> - -<p>“That’s right,” cried Julian. “This is -the whole country together this time; it’s -the United States of America, by Jupiter!”</p> - -<p>“Let us thank God for that,” said Miss -India, devoutly.</p> - -<hr class="tb"> - -<p>Winthrop and Holly were rather silent -until they had left the red clay road behind -and turned into the woods. There, in a -little clearing, Winthrop led the way to the -trunk of a fallen pine and they seated -themselves upon it. The afternoon sunlight -made its way between the branches -in amber streams. Above them festoons -of gray-green moss decked the trees. The -woods were very silent and not even a bird-call -broke the silence. Holly took her hat -off and laid it beside her on the gray bark.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_291"></a>[291]</span> -Then she turned gravely to Winthrop and -met his eyes.</p> - -<p>“What is it?” she whispered.</p> - -<p>“I’ve brought you here, Holly, to ask -you to marry me,” he answered. Holly’s -hand flew to her heart, and her eyes grew -big and dark.</p> - -<p>“I don’t understand,” she faltered.</p> - -<p>“No, and before I do ask you, dear, I’ve -got something to tell you. Will you -listen?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, yes,” answered Holly, simply.</p> - -<p>“I was married when I was twenty-four -years old,” began Winthrop, after a moment. -“I had just finished a course in the -law school. The girl I married was four -years younger than I. She was very beautiful -and a great belle in the little city in -which she lived. We went to New York -and I started in business with a friend of -mine. We were stock brokers. A year -later my wife bore me a son; we called him -Robert. For five years we were very -happy; those years were the happiest I -have ever known. Then the boy died.”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_292"></a>[292]</span> -He was silent a moment. “I loved him a -great deal, and I took it hard. I made a -mistake then. To forget my trouble I immersed -myself too deeply, perhaps, in business. -Well, two years later I made the discovery -that I had failed to keep my wife’s -love. If our boy had lived it would have -been different but his death left her lonely -and—I was thoughtless, selfish in my -own sorrow, until it was too late. I found -that my wife had grown to love another -man. I don’t blame her; I never have. -And she was always honest with me. She -told me the truth. She sued me for divorce -and I didn’t contest. That was six years -ago. She has been married for five years -and I think, I pray, that she is very -happy.”</p> - -<p>He paused, and Holly darted a glance -at his face. He was looking straight ahead -down the woodland path, and for an instant -she felt very lonely and apart. -Then—</p> - -<p>“You see, dear,” he continued, “I have -failed to keep one woman’s love. Could<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_293"></a>[293]</span> -I do better another time? I think so, but—who -knows? It would be a risk for you, -wouldn’t it?”</p> - -<p>He turned and smiled gently at her, and -she smiled tremulously back.</p> - -<p>“There,” he said. “Now you know -what I am. I am thirty-eight years old, -twenty years older than you, and a divorced -man into the bargain. Even if you -were willing to excuse those things, Holly, -I fear your aunt could not.”</p> - -<p>“If I were willing,” answered Holly, -evenly, “nothing else would matter. But—you -will tell me one thing? Do you—are -you quite, quite sure that you do not still -love her—a little?”</p> - -<p>“Quite, Holly. The heart I offer, dear, -is absolutely free.”</p> - -<p>“I think God did mean me to love you, -then, after all,” said Holly, thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>Winthrop arose and stood before her, -and held out his hand. She placed hers in -it and with her eyes on his allowed him to -raise her gently toward him.</p> - -<p>“Then, Holly,” he said, “I ask you to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_294"></a>[294]</span> -be my wife, for I love you more than I can -ever tell you. Will you, Holly, will you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” sighed Holly.</p> - -<p>Very gently he strove to draw her to -him but, with her hands against his breast, -she held herself at the length of his arms.</p> - -<p>“Wait,” she said. “Don’t kiss me until -you are sure that you mean what you’ve -said, Robert—quite, quite sure. Because”—her -eyes darkened, and her voice -held a fierceness that thrilled him—“because, -dear, after you have kissed me it -will be too late to repent. I’ll never let -you go then, never while I live! I’ll fight -for you until—until——!”</p> - -<p>Her voice broke, and the lashes fell tremblingly -over her eyes. Winthrop, awed -and stirred, raised the bowed head until -her eyes, grown soft and timid, glanced up -at him once more.</p> - -<p>“Dear,” he said, very low and very -humbly, “such as I am I am yours as long -as God will let me live for you.”</p> - -<p>He bent his head until his lips were on -hers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_295"></a>[295]</span></p> - -<p>The next instant she had buried her face -against his shoulder, and he felt her body -shaking in his arms.</p> - -<p>“Holly!” he cried. “Holly! You’re -crying! What is it, dear? What have I -done, Sweetheart?”</p> - -<p>For an instant she ceased to quiver, and -from against his coat came a smothered -voice.</p> - -<p>“What’s the good of be-being happy,” -sobbed Holly, “if you can’t cr-cr-cry?”</p> - -<p>A breath of wind from the south swept -through the wood, stirring the tender -leaves to rustling murmurs. And the -sound was like that of a little stream which, -obstructed in its course, finds a new channel -and leaps suddenly on its way again, -laughing joyously.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="i_p295"> - <img src="images/i_p295.jpg" alt="" title=""> - <div class="caption"> - <p class="noic"><span class="smcap">The End</span></p> - </div> -</div> - - - - -<hr class="chap"> -<div class="tnote"> -<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes:</p> - -<p class="smfont">A List of Chapters has been provided for the convenience of the - reader.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently - corrected.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.</p> - -<p class="smfont">Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOLLY ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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