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diff --git a/75552-h/75552-h.htm b/75552-h/75552-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..554998d --- /dev/null +++ b/75552-h/75552-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8701 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Wild oats | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +td {padding-left: 0.5em;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.xxlarge {font-size: 200%;} +.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +p.drop-cap { + text-indent: -0.35em; +} + +p.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + float: left; + margin: 0em 0.15em 0em 0em; + font-size: 250%; + line-height:0.85em; + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap { + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter +{ + float: none; + margin: 0; + font-size: 100%; +} + +.poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75552 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1>WILD OATS</h1> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center">By the same author:</p> + +<p class="center">“DR. RAST”<br> +“MONDAY MORNING AND OTHER POEMS”</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/title_page.jpg" alt="title page"></div> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="titlepage"> +<p><span class="xxlarge">WILD OATS</span></p> + +<p><span class="xlarge">By JAMES OPPENHEIM</span></p> + +<p>With a Foreword by<br> +<span class="large">EDWARD BOK</span></p> + +<p>NEW YORK<br> +B. W. HUEBSCH<br> +1910</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Copyright 1910 by</span><br> +B. W. HUEBSCH<br> +<br> +<i>All rights reserved</i><br> +<br> +Printed in U. S. A.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2> +</div> + +<table> + + +<tr><td class="tdr"><small>CHAPTER</small></td><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">I.</td><td> Spring on East Broadway</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1"> 1</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">II.</td><td> The Mother</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_21"> 21</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">III.</td><td> The First Night</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_35"> 35</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">IV.</td><td> The Second Night</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61"> 61</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">V.</td><td> Spring Music</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_89"> 89</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VI.</td><td> Mr. Grupp Interrupts</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_96"> 96</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VII.</td><td> The Golden-Haired One</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_113"> 113</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">VIII.</td><td> Twilight</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_125"> 125</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">IX.</td><td> Night</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_154"> 154</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">X.</td><td> Morning Again</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_160"> 160</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XI.</td><td> On the Bridge</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_165"> 165</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XII.</td><td> The Three Rooms</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_174"> 174</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XIII.</td><td> Wild Oats</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_182"> 182</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XIV.</td><td> The Whirlwind</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_203"> 203</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XV.</td><td> Sunrise</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_216"> 216</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XVI.</td><td> The Passing Seasons</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_230"> 230</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XVII.</td><td> Indian Summer</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_241"> 241</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr">XVIII.</td><td> The Harvest</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_245"> 245</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak">A FOREWORD</h2> +</div> + +<p>This story by Mr. Oppenheim comes, +perhaps, at the psychological moment to +tell—let me hope to thousands—in the +form of fiction what we must very soon +face as an actual living question to be +squarely met and dealt with. For the old +saying that “the truth is stranger than +fiction” is peculiarly true of this story. +The fearful truth that lies back of this +narrative cannot much longer remain in +the background of the public conscience. +We are slowly but surely awakening, in +part, to a realizing sense that somewhere in +the social body there is a festering sore +that needs the surgery and cleansing process +of the light of public discussion and extermination +at the hands of decent people. +It is not meeting the question to contend +that it is not a “nice subject” or a “polite +topic”: neither did the ravages of tuberculosis +make pleasant reading. And the +evil of “The Great White Plague” is comparatively +as naught with the greater and +more insidious evil that is being wrought +by “The Great Black Plague,” with its +fearful results on innocent children. Mr. +Oppenheim, with due reserve, gives a +glimpse, and it is but a glimpse, of the burden +we are laying upon the next generation +by blinding not alone our own eyes to +the death-dealing evil that lies at our very +door, but the actual and pitiable blinding +of the unborn and the newly-born.</p> + +<p>It may be that the work of arousing the +public conscience on the great evils that +threaten the very foundations of our social +structure, is in the hands of the fictionist. +This has unquestionably been true in the +past. If it be true of the present evil, may +this story speak its great and vibrant message +in clarion tones.</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Edward Bok.</span></p> + +<p>Philadelphia,<br> +    1910.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span> + +<p class="ph2">Wild Oats</p> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I<br> + +<small>SPRING ON EAST BROADWAY</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">SPRING on East Broadway. The air +is winey, the heavens are radiant +blue and full of fire. A sparrow +chirps on the window-sill, fluttering before +the milk-glass sign: “Doctor Rast.” Down +toward the East the wet pavement is +golden with sun, and through the splendor +wades an ancient people on their way to +work. For it is early morning; early +April; the waters of river and bay flash +about that shining floating city of towers; +and, though the great Earth is buried beneath +paving stone and brick and steel and +granite, her mighty yearning exhales +through the cool white air, and four million<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span> +human beings are dazzled and smelted +in the fires of Spring.</p> + +<p>The big dark Doctor was shaving before +a tiny wall-mirror over the kitchen wash +tub. He was in shirt and trousers, and +his face was white with lather. Nell had +the oatmeal cooking on the hot stove, and +glided here and there singing snatches of +song. Her eager olive-tinted face was +flushed, her brown eyes afire. The little +boy David, now nearly three, tugged at her +skirts.</p> + +<p>“Mother! Mother! Mother!”</p> + +<p>She swung him up in her arms and +laughed in his beautiful face; for he was a +rosy new boy-god, straight and breathing +health, overrunning with virility.</p> + +<p>“Well!” she shook him. “Well, Blinkers!”</p> + +<p>“I’m not Blinkers—I’m Davy,” he said +indignantly.</p> + +<p>“You’re Blinkers!” she shook him again.</p> + +<p>“I’m not—<i>you’re</i> Blinkers!”</p> + +<p>“Then give me a kiss.”</p> + +<p>“No—I can’t love you.”</p> + +<p>“Whom do you love?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span>“Daddy!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor danced up and down with +joy.</p> + +<p>“Mother,” he cried, “the boy has +genius!”</p> + +<p>“No, I haven’t,” said Davy, “I’ve got a +new nose.”</p> + +<p>The Mother and Father laughed, and +looked at each other.</p> + +<p>“Where?” Nell gave him a squeeze.</p> + +<p>“Here!” he delicately touched his nose +with one finger.</p> + +<p>“And where did you get it?”</p> + +<p>“I bought it.”</p> + +<p>“Where?”</p> + +<p>“I bought it in the store.”</p> + +<p>“With what?” cried the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“A dollar,” said Davy calmly.</p> + +<p>“And who gave you a dollar, you rascal?”</p> + +<p>“Mother gave me a dollar.” The little +imagination was set at work, and the little +lips poured a wild stream of words, a +breathless recitation: “I got a dollar and +I went to the store and I said give me a +new nose, and I gave the man a dollar and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span> +he gave me a nose. Isn’t that funny? And +then I went to another store, and what do +you think happened?”</p> + +<p>“What?” cried his parents.</p> + +<p>Three times he told his story, winding +up, “Isn’t that funny? And then I went +to another store, and what do you think +happened?”</p> + +<p>Nell and the Doctor laughed till the +tears came, for they were the Mother and +the Father and only they shared the secret +of the miracle.</p> + +<p>Then Nell put the boy down, and while +he capered with excitement, put a wooden +bowl on a chair, filled it with cut vegetables, +and gave him a chopper. He set to +work with a will, chopping the vegetables, +a tiny mite laboring like a man. He looked +up.</p> + +<p>“I’m a helper, Mother, I’m a helper!”</p> + +<p>Nell whispered to the Doctor:</p> + +<p>“Just watch!”</p> + +<p>And they put their arms round each +other, and leaned close, smiling:</p> + +<p>“Look,” said Nell, “he does it just as I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span> +do—scrapes round the side and chops in +toward the center. Isn’t it wonderful?”</p> + +<p>The Doctor sighed:</p> + +<p>“And to think that he came to the world +through us! That we had a hand in creating +him! Pretty good work, Nell!”</p> + +<p>The little fellow ran to the cupboard, +obtained imaginary salt with his hand, and +hurried back to sprinkle his hash. He +could not contain himself for joy. He +turned to his mother and cried in a wild +treble music:</p> + +<p>“Oh, I love you so much, I don’t know +what to do!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor shouted; the young Mother +snatched up her baby and hugged him to +her heart.</p> + +<p>Truly it was Springtime; joy was in the +air, and new life; and the Earth had her +way with the stone city. That little kitchen, +with its shafts of bright light through the +window, sang like a clearing in a wilderness. +And even as the Earth enfolded with +love and tenderness her young buds, her +song-stricken birds, her singing waters,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span> +even so this man and woman enfolded their +living child.</p> + +<p>“He is like a little bird,” said the Doctor, +“so full of song; so fresh; so sweet. +And like a little blossom.”</p> + +<p>He went on and finished his dressing, +and the boy toiled and sang aloud, and the +Mother prepared breakfast. Then the +Doctor touched Nell on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Shall I tell you a secret, Mother?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. What is it?”</p> + +<p>He seized both her arms and looked in +her face.</p> + +<p>“Spring is here!”</p> + +<p>They smiled at one another.</p> + +<p>“What does it remind you of?” he went +on.</p> + +<p>“Us.”</p> + +<p>And then she whispered:</p> + +<p>“I’m always full of yearning in the +Spring. Remember the nights we used to +walk together?”</p> + +<p>“Moonlight nights!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I wish we were in love again!”</p> + +<p>He smiled and drew her close.</p> + +<p>“Let’s be, then,” he whispered. “Let’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> +have the old enchantment again—the old +witchery. A kiss in secret—a walk through +deserted streets—a quarrel—romance!”</p> + +<p>“And let’s elope!” she cried.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he said with a grin, “but we’ll be +original, sweetheart. We’ll take the boy +with us!”</p> + +<p>Whereupon they laughed, and the scene +turned human again, and they sat and ate a +hearty breakfast, and were glad that life +was so full of commonplaces. For what +more can a man ask than to eat breakfast +with his wife and his son on a Spring +morning?</p> + +<p>Then, after breakfast, the Doctor felt too +happy to work, so Davy was shoved into +a coat and hat, and his father took him out +into the street, and they went wandering together. +The first breath of that cool pure +air, the first sight of golden pave and clear +blue sky, the first thrill of sun, changed +the Doctor into a young boy. He and Davy +babbled together like closest chums.</p> + +<p>Many passing nodded to the Doctor. +Old women in wigs and shawls, old men +bearded and wrinkled, mothers leading<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> +children, young men on the way to work, +cheerily spoke a good morning and passed. +The old-fashioned red street, with a horse-car +passing, with the Educational Alliance +lifting yellow opposite and a crowd of +children lined up at the door, was beautiful +to the Doctor. Every step was rich +with associations, bloody almost with the +life of the past. For the Doctor had been +working in the Ghetto for years now; he +had come down with his young wife to +serve his own people—serve them not with +drug and knife alone, but rather with understanding, +with wisdom and with love. +And so his name had gone out to thousands, +his face in the doorway made the +sick strong, his counsel was sought in matters +of birth and of life and death. He +was the best-loved man in the East Side.</p> + +<p>And so, as he and Davy babbled together +through the joyous morning, he was greeted +by many as they passed. Suddenly a young +voice cried:</p> + +<p>“Good morning!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor looked up. It was Edith +Kroll, a girl of seventeen—young as the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> +morning. A faint flush was in her fresh +cheeks, her blue eyes were full of soft light, +her light-brown hair went out in strands +that fluttered in the stirring air. She was +graceful, slim, exquisite, her little blue hat +contrasting with the blue of her eyes. As +she cried “good morning” her face was lit +with soft laughter, and she leaned quickly +and kissed Davy on the cheek.</p> + +<p>Davy shrieked: “Don’t do that!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor laughed, and took her little +cool hand in both of his.</p> + +<p>“Well! Edith!” he cried. “Nun ya, how +goes it?”</p> + +<p>The girl’s cheeks burned, and she looked +down shyly.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she said hastily, and withdrew her +hand, “I was just going to stop in a moment.”</p> + +<p>His voice took on concern.</p> + +<p>“Is anything the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing much,” she murmured, “Mother +isn’t so well again. Do you want to go +and see her?”</p> + +<p>“Surely!” he said heartily, and snatched +at Davy who was bound for the gutter.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>“Well,” he went on, “how are you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m all right.”</p> + +<p>“And the job?”</p> + +<p>“It’s good.” She looked up, smiling, “I +got a raise last month.”</p> + +<p>“A raise!” he whistled, “why, splendid!”</p> + +<p>“I’m getting twelve a week now.”</p> + +<p>He spoke tenderly:</p> + +<p>“Edith, I’m glad. But I’m not surprised. +All my girls are wonders!”</p> + +<p>She flushed hotter with the praise, and +her eyes shone as she looked down on the +pavement and played with her hands.</p> + +<p>The Doctor smiled softly:</p> + +<p>“How you’ve changed, how you’ve +grown! Tut, I’m getting to be an old +man.”</p> + +<p>She looked up sharply:</p> + +<p>“No, you’re not!”</p> + +<p>He groaned.</p> + +<p>“But are you sure?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she cried “sure.”</p> + +<p>He murmured absently:</p> + +<p>“I just wonder if Edith is in love.”</p> + +<p>She seemed startled and surprised:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>“No! never!” she spoke vehemently “I’m +never going to marry.”</p> + +<p>“Never?”</p> + +<p>“Why should I?”</p> + +<p>Again he spoke absently, his lips twitching +with smiles:</p> + +<p>“Davy, it’s a habit girls have, isn’t it? +Wait, till she meets the right man, eh, +Davy?”</p> + +<p>Davy laughed knowingly, though he had +to force himself to do it, and the sound resembled +a cackle.</p> + +<p>“See?” triumphed the Doctor.</p> + +<p>But Edith only darted down and kissed +the young fellow, cried a “good-by,” and +ran off laughing. The Doctor watched her +lovingly as she swung down the block and +round the corner, a graceful young girl, +light on her feet as a faun, dancing over +the April earth like a flame in the blue +morning.</p> + +<p>She hurried through the playground +park. Just a hint of fresh green tipped the +boughs of the glistening trees, and here and +there in the branches blackbirds loosed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> +their dark raucous cries; sparrows crowded +the walk where an old man was scattering +bread crumbs; and troops of little children, +laughing, chattering, walked and ran +toward the big white public school. They +seemed like human sparrows, or, rather, +blackbirds and redbirds, overrunning with +laughter and song. Higher rose the sun +over the swarming city; the air was white +haunted with gold; the heavens seemed to +dream and yearn, they were so blue, and +steeped in these mysterious fires the heart +of the young girl seemed to empty with +yearning. What she wanted she hardly +knew. Was it to leave the city, and go out +beyond the horizon into some enchanted +wilderness? Did she long to sit at the side +of some wild water and brood and dream? +Or did she want people? Did she crave +human words, human touch, human faces? +No, she wanted something wilder, sweeter. +How could she know that she was in the +throes of adolescence, that she was awaking +to sex, that hereafter there would be +two miracles on Earth: man and woman? +How could she know what the word love<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> +meant as between girls and boys? The +Doctor had whispered of marriage, but +looking on the young men that passed, she +saw no glamour. The Doctor was her ideal +of a man—and these were very unlike +him.</p> + +<p>Sweet Edith! Just seventeen—seventeen +years in the heart of the deep city—and yet +a simple and innocent and quiet life. Public +school, shorthand school, the job in the +clothing business—her few friends, her +two brothers, her ailing mother. She had +had a taste of theater; she had gone to +night school; she sometimes attended a lecture, +or a meeting of the people at Cooper +Union. But thus far, though the wild city +whirled like a cyclone about her, with its +Broadway, its Bowery, its crime and commerce, +its toil and struggle and tragicomedy +of millions of living people, Edith +had lived in the quiet center of the storm, +a life immured, innocent, and had grown +naturally as flower unfolding from bud.</p> + +<p>She was at the perilous age. From unconscious +childhood she had emerged, and +found that she, too, was a miracle—a human<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> +being capable of the depths and +heights of life, packed with all sweet possibilities. +All the world was new; a wonder +was everywhere. Romance lurked in familiar +corners, transfiguring them. Anything +might break open in her heart now +and sweep her with the passions that drive +a life to divine heights or ruin it.</p> + +<p>Sweet Edith! There she was that young +Spring morning, living, breathing, hurrying +through the crowds of children, innocent +as they, fresh as a new wild-rose, light +on her feet, and full of the yearning fire +of the blue. Can’t you see her, her little +blue hat stuck with a black feather, her +bending blue-eyed face, her lithe little body +gracefully gliding through the cool air? +Surely she was made for happiness, for +motherhood and home, and all the quiet +round of human life!</p> + +<p>She turned into shining Grand Street; +she walked down the street to a tall loft-building, +entered, climbed a flight of +stairs, and pushed open a door into the +“factory.” There in twilight were the garment-makers, +stitching, cutting, and crazily<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> +racing the machines. She passed through +the hubbub to the front, opened a door of +a partition, and stepped into the offices. +There were four of these, partitioned from +each other, and connected by doors. The +center one was the show-room, with large +oak-table, and racks. Two young men +were chatting at the open window and gazing +down at the street. Edith did not notice +them, but passed into the adjoining +office, took off hat and coat, opened the window, +pulled the cover from the typewriter, +and set to work busily cleaning the machine. +The hum of the young men’s voices +reached her, but she paid no heed to their +words.</p> + +<p>The young men were chatting amiably. +One of them was Frank Lasser, the new +traveling salesman, territory Pennsylvania—a +smartly dressed fellow, almost insolently +handsome. He had large black eyes, +a little brown mustache, and black hair +smoothly plastered on a high forehead. +His chin was weak. He spoke volubly and +cynically. His companion was Jonas Zug, +salesman for New York State, young, but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> +almost bald. As they talked trade and territory, +a barrel organ in the street below +loosed a wild waltz-music. The young +men leaned out of the window. Four little +school-girls had handed their books to +others and were dancing in the center of +an absorbed circle of people. They executed, +not a waltz, but a wild street-dance, +passionate, swift, their whole bodies playing +rhythmically. One forgot tattered +shoes and torn aprons and thin cheeks—so +wild a magic was wrought by the dance. +All the fresh glory of the morning, all the +yearning and fire of the sun and the air, +seemed to pulse through the world from +them.</p> + +<p>Zug spoke grimly:</p> + +<p>“That’s where the chorus girls come +from, eh? My! but they dance!”</p> + +<p>Frank laughed, and pointed:</p> + +<p>“See that one with the red sweater? +Ain’t she a peach, though?”</p> + +<p>She was a strange creature—a girl with +fiery black eyes, glossy black hair flying +wild. She danced with a weird fury, +throwing back her head now and then,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> +shaking out her curls; her little feet flew, +kicked, whirled; her thin arms and hands +darted snakily, out, up, under. Something +of the burning desert was in the face, something +of the tropical in her motions; she +seemed like the ominous fire-shot smoke-plume +of a volcano. The crowd was fascinated, +drawing closer; there was a queer +feeling that mighty destinies hung on the +dance; that it was leading <i>somewhere</i>; that +it was moving toward some crisis.</p> + +<p>Zug breathed fast and watched sharply. +And then the music ceased and the girl +stopped short. A noise of many voices went +up about her.</p> + +<p>“Gee!” said Frank, “in a few years that +girl will be worth trapping.”</p> + +<p>Zug turned angrily, and raised his voice:</p> + +<p>“Quit it, will you? Can’t you think of +anything else, Lasser?”</p> + +<p>“Well, well!” Frank whistled. “We’re +getting virtuous in our old age, ain’t we?”</p> + +<p>Zug spoke with uncalled-for passion:</p> + +<p>“I’m getting decent, Lasser, and you——”</p> + +<p>Frank laughed:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>“So you’ve finished sowing your wild +oats—Congratulations! Have you set the +date?”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>Suddenly the air grew electric, as with +two souls grappling in a death struggle. +Frank was amazed, startled; but he spoke +lightly.</p> + +<p>“I mean, when’s the wedding, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Whose wedding?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, come off,” said Frank cynically, +“how should I know her name.”</p> + +<p>“Whose name?”</p> + +<p>“The lady’s. Is she on the premises? +Is she a sweatshop lady?”</p> + +<p>Zug squared a fist, and his voice rose +and rang with passion:</p> + +<p>“Now, see here, Lasser, I say you’ll cut +this out. Understand?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that’s it!” laughed Frank easily. +“You’ve got it bad, Jonas.”</p> + +<p>Zug’s voice rose higher, and he raised his +fist:</p> + +<p>“Damn you——”</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, he dropped his hand, +and stood back, abashed, ashamed, his face<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> +very pale. At the same moment a light +delicate hand touched Frank’s arm, and a +low sweet voice quivered at his ear:</p> + +<p>“You must both stop this—both.”</p> + +<p>Frank turned, and looked into Edith’s +face. The light of the blue eyes went into +him, running after the music of the voice. +He saw the lips quiver; he saw the wisps of +light-brown hair; the wild-rose cheeks. +Strength went out of him; cynicism left +him. And then he heard Zug speaking in +a low, humble voice:</p> + +<p>“I didn’t mean it, Miss Edith, I didn’t +mean it. I’m sorry—awfully sorry.”</p> + +<p>Edith spoke sadly:</p> + +<p>“I’m sure you only forgot yourself, Mr. +Zug.”</p> + +<p>And she was gone—vanishing like a startled +fawn.</p> + +<p>Truly it was the Springtime—and Earth +was yearning as she enfolded her creatures +with strength and love; the air was cool; +the heavens utterly blue; and the fires +touched a heart here and there and woke +it to dream and mystery and wild enchantment. +Frank Lasser was young in years,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> +but far from the pure beauty of this world. +He did not know girls of this type. As he +stood helpless, he felt as if a new Power +was clutching at his heart.</p> + +<p>And then he looked at Zug and saw a remorseful +face and tear-stained eyes—a man +stricken down.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” he murmured, “I see! I see!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II<br> + +<small>THE MOTHER</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">DOCTOR RAST didn’t get around to +see Mrs. Kroll till late that afternoon. +The enchantment of the +morning proved to be but a promise of +Spring—a promise unfulfilled. Clouds engulfed +the city, darkening the streets. The +wind blew wild, scattering dust. People +hurried; pedlars raced their pushcarts +along; windows were slammed shut. There +was something ominous in the air, a momentary +expectation of rain and storm.</p> + +<p>The Doctor could not help feeling the +power of the weather—how the human +race is driven before the changing atmosphere. +A blue morning shakes out four +million people exultant and daring; a black +afternoon sweeps them shivering home. He +himself felt the tragedy of the day—the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> +sweet bubbling April broken and ruined. +Full of these thoughts, as he passed the gas-lit +shops of Clinton Street, he paused and +entered a draughty hall and climbed two +dark flights of stairs.</p> + +<p>He knocked in front, and getting no answer, +tried the door. It was unlocked. A +gust of air blew in with him. He stepped +through the dark kitchen, through a dark +inner room to the open doorway of another. +As he stood a moment he could see +the window of the parlor in front gray and +dim, and suddenly lashed with rain.</p> + +<p>“May I come in?” he said softly.</p> + +<p>“Ach, ya, Doktor,” came a plaintively +glad voice from the darkness. “Ach, I +waited—all day!”</p> + +<p>There was a low light burning, and the +Doctor reached and turned it big. It was +a neat tidy room, mostly filled with the +wooden double-bed. Mrs. Kroll was in +bed, propped by pillows—a large fat +woman, with a worn and wasted flabby face. +Her eyes especially had a wasted look, surrounded +by touches of red and gray and yellow<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> +flesh. Her nose was large; her lips +large. She was breathing heavily.</p> + +<p>The Doctor felt a pang of remorse for +his enforced tardiness; it had been a +crowded day. He sat down on a chair at +the bedside.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Kroll,” he said gravely, “forgive +me for making you wait.”</p> + +<p>“Ach,” she smiled, “but you are here. +I could feel better already.”</p> + +<p>And to the simple woman his presence +seemed to overflow the room. She muttered:</p> + +<p>“Does it rain?”</p> + +<p>“Listen!” he said.</p> + +<p>They heard in the hush the mighty sweep +of the storm, on roof, and window, and +pavement. She shook her head.</p> + +<p>“My Edy gets wet then?”</p> + +<p>The Doctor laughed softly:</p> + +<p>“No worrying! Edith can take care of +herself! I want you to brace up, and feel +better, and be happy!”</p> + +<p>She smiled sweetly:</p> + +<p>“No, Doktor, it is too late.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>The sound of the rain darkened over +him, but he leaned closer and spoke with a +touch of tenderness:</p> + +<p>“Well, tell me how you are feeling.”</p> + +<p>She began at once, after the Jewish manner, +and described her symptoms:</p> + +<p>“Doktor, I’m a sick woman. You +couldn’t tell how sick I am. Eat I a sausage +day before yesterday for supper, and +it stick in my stomach and make me stoss +auf (belch) and I feel gas on my heart, +so it goes jump like a baby. And such a +rheumatis<i>mus</i> in my leg I got, like it was +crazy. And my head! And my hand! +And my stomach! I get very nervous. I +could vomit my insides out. Um Gottes +willen (for God’s sake) how sick I am. +Doktor, I think I’m a very sick woman. I +got four children, one dead, holy God, but +not such pains as these.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor knew the case well, and so +he did not smile, but spoke even more tenderly:</p> + +<p>“There is one thing you must do.”</p> + +<p>She put up a bony hand:</p> + +<p>“Don’t tell me to take castor oil, Doktor.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> +I couldn’t do it. Rather would I die right +away, and be done with it.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor smiled:</p> + +<p>“No, it isn’t that.”</p> + +<p>“Neither can I stay in bed. A woman +must work.”</p> + +<p>“Not that—either.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Kroll glanced at him, and spoke in +a scared voice:</p> + +<p>“To the hospital?”</p> + +<p>“No,” he said quietly, “not that. Something +very simple and good.”</p> + +<p>She was ready to listen to him then, and +asked what it was.</p> + +<p>The Doctor leaned close and spoke +gently:</p> + +<p>“Don’t worry.”</p> + +<p>Much pathos went into her voice then.</p> + +<p>“Ah, worry? I must not worry?”</p> + +<p>“Listen,” he said very gently, “you can +live many years yet and be very happy, if +you live quietly—if you don’t worry and +get excited and worked up. Many, many +years.”</p> + +<p>“And if I don’t stop worrying—no?”</p> + +<p>He said nothing, for his throat caught<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> +slightly. The noise of the rain rose upon +them and seemed to the poor woman to be +sounding her death. It was very strange +to be alive, and yet to be so near the passing. +Then she heard the Doctor saying +softly:</p> + +<p>“What should you worry about?”</p> + +<p>“My boys,” she sobbed.</p> + +<p>The Doctor spoke in a queer voice:</p> + +<p>“Why I thought they were mighty good +boys!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she sobbed, “but it’s America, +Doktor. In the old country we Jews were +very different. We were pious and good +and the children loved God. But here the +children care for nothing—nothing but fun. +They think a pious boy ain’t stylish. They +think their Mother is a back-number. So +they run wild, and nothing stops them. +They will never marry. If only my good +man, <i>selig</i>, were alive!”</p> + +<p>“The boys!” muttered the Doctor. “Yes, +our Jewish boys all sow their wild oats.”</p> + +<p>The woman’s voice arose and she gave +vent to the tragedy of her life:</p> + +<p>“When my man died, I thought these<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> +boys would take his place. I thought I +should be a proud Mother. Ach, they hurt +the heart like strangers—my heart is zerrissen +(ripped). They have made me old—I’m +not such an old woman like I look—<i>they +make my hair gray</i>. Maybe they think +I’m not like other women.” She became +excited. “Maybe they think such an ugly +thing don’t want love and sweet words and +good children. Maybe they forget what I +done for them—how I got backache and +hard hands bringing them up—how I work +and work and work—I just kill myself +working for my children. Ach, Gott, it’s +not good to be a Mother.” She suddenly +sat up in bed, her eyes flashed, and she cried +out: “Look at me! See what my children +done to me!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor spoke firmly:</p> + +<p>“It’s just this you mustn’t do. You +mustn’t give way like this. You must control +yourself.”</p> + +<p>“Huh!” she muttered. “It’s easy to say.” +She fell back on the pillow and pressed her +breast. “But I’ve got a heart—here!”</p> + +<p>In the silence again came the noise of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> +the wild rain sweeping the toilers home. +The Doctor’s heart went out to the poor +woman, who once had her youth and her +dreams.</p> + +<p>“You have Edith,” he murmured. “Remember +that!”</p> + +<p>An exquisite smile lit her face:</p> + +<p>“My Edith!——” Then she sighed. +“But a Mother thinks more of her boys.”</p> + +<p>“But Edith,” the Doctor went on, “what +a wonderful girl! You can be proud of +her. Not many girls are earning as much; +not many are so sweet and beautiful.”</p> + +<p>The woman breathed softly.</p> + +<p>“Ach, Doktor,” she said, “she helps me, +works hard, makes me money—a good girl, +a good girl.” She went on musingly. “If +I could live to see Edith married, I could +die happy, I think.”</p> + +<p>“You shall,” said the Doctor heartily.</p> + +<p>“That I don’t know,” sighed the Mother. +“For I must, must worry.”</p> + +<p>Then, in the silence, a door opened and +shut, and a glad young voice cried, “Mother, +Mother,” and at once the music of the +Spring overflowed the room. It seemed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> +good that the wild rain should encircle the +warm human shelter; it made the home all +the warmer and sweeter. The mother +laughed softly, the Doctor arose, and then +Edith glided in. She was bedraggled, +dripping from head to foot, her clothes +tight on her limbs, her hair pasted down +her face. Tilting her hat, it spilled silver +drops, and drops were falling from her +chin. Like a wild-rose in rain, sweet +enough to kiss, thought the Doctor.</p> + +<p>She ran over with laughter:</p> + +<p>“Oh, the Doctor! I didn’t think <i>you’d</i> +be here. I’m simply sopping wet. Such +weather!”</p> + +<p>“Well!” cried the Doctor. “No umbrella?”</p> + +<p>“Umbrella! It’s glorious!—But I’d better +go in the kitchen, or I’ll ruin the +house!”</p> + +<p>She vanished; the Doctor looked at the +mother, and both laughed with delight. +He leaned over and took her hand:</p> + +<p>“How can you worry with <i>that</i> in the +house?”</p> + +<p>“I feel better,” she murmured.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>“Good,” he said heartily. “Now, really, +you’ll brace up and take care of yourself. +Good-by. I’ll come again soon—just a social +visit.”</p> + +<p>He groped through the inner room into +the kitchen. Edith was reaching up on tiptoe +to light the gas.</p> + +<p>“Here,” he said, taking the match. In +the sudden glow, the room broke real and +vivid about them—stove, and dining table, +cupboard and ice box.</p> + +<p>“How is she?” asked Edith anxiously.</p> + +<p>He took a hand, held it close, and spoke +very near and very low.</p> + +<p>“Edith, your Mother must keep very +quiet—she mustn’t excite herself.”</p> + +<p>Her face lifted, quivering with care.</p> + +<p>“Doctor.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think I’m a brave girl?”</p> + +<p>“I do, Edith.”</p> + +<p>“Then tell me the truth. What is the +matter with Mother?”</p> + +<p>He spoke very tenderly.</p> + +<p>“Edith, your Mother has a weak heart.”</p> + +<p>The girl trembled, and grew pale.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>“Weak heart? You mean——”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” his voice was almost inaudible, +“at any moment—unless she controls herself.”</p> + +<p>“And then——?”</p> + +<p>“She may live years.”</p> + +<p>Her eyes were very large, her cheeks +white. She gasped:</p> + +<p>“My Mother—die?”</p> + +<p>The Doctor whispered:</p> + +<p>“You’re a brave girl, Edith!”</p> + +<p>The girl swayed:</p> + +<p>“Oh, she’s all I have; I can’t stand it!”</p> + +<p>Two tears ran down her face. “Doctor!”</p> + +<p>“Hush!” he warned, “if she heard——!”</p> + +<p>“I can’t stand it!” She hid her face in +her hands. “I can’t stand it!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor spoke in a voice of intimate +pity:</p> + +<p>“You must take good care of her, and +make your brothers behave. If she lives +quietly, it will be years yet. Come, Edith, +your Mother needs you!”</p> + +<p>He had touched the right string. The +young girl threw up her head, and spoke +with lovely courage:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>“She needs me? Yes, I’m selfish. But”—she +looked in the Doctor’s face—“you +can trust me. I’ll keep Mother alive.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor pressed her hand hard.</p> + +<p>“I knew it, Edith, I knew it!” And +passed out.</p> + +<p>For a moment she was stunned and +wrung her hands. It was as if blackness +had entered her heart; she felt lonely, forsaken. +And then her Mother called:</p> + +<p>“Come in and change your clothes, Edy.”</p> + +<p>And all the terror changed to tenderness. +So she hurried in, and while her Mother +was buttoning up her waist and she was +rolling the water out of her long hair or +changing her stockings and shoes, she asked +a hundred loving questions. Wasn’t there +anything she could do? What did her +Mother like? Should she get her some +chicken to-morrow? Wouldn’t she like to +have a servant to help her?</p> + +<p>“Servant? Are you crazy?” cried the +Mother. “For thirty years I worked without +a servant! <i>Now I should begin!</i>”</p> + +<p>Edith turned about with divine eagerness:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>“Mother! Couldn’t I give up my job +then, and stay home and help you? I’d take +<i>such</i> care of you, dear!”</p> + +<p>Her Mother ha-ha’d in her face:</p> + +<p>“I could put your help under my fingernail. +Dummer esel! (Stupid donkey.)”</p> + +<p>The two brothers now came in, slamming +the door.</p> + +<p>“Well, Mutter,” said the elder, a small +stout fellow with a shining face, “how goes +it?”</p> + +<p>He rubbed his hands and grinned.</p> + +<p>“Ach,” said the Mother, “I’m a sick +woman.”</p> + +<p>“Too much sausage, hey?” said the son +glibly.</p> + +<p>Edith spoke in a low voice.</p> + +<p>“Sam, you’d better go in the kitchen!”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>She came closer:</p> + +<p>“Sam,” her voice took on a command +new to her, “go in the kitchen!”</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders in surprise +and went. The other son, Marcus, who +had the slimness of his sister without her +beauty, muttered:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>“Say, the sis is getting pretty fresh, ain’t +she?” And followed his brother.</p> + +<p>Then Edith laughed and kissed her +Mother.</p> + +<p>“Dear,” she whispered, “I’m going to +take care of the boys and make them behave! +Indeed, I will! And I’m going to +make you just so happy!” She hugged the +Mother to show her just how happy.</p> + +<p>“Ah,” said the Mother, “you are my +baby, Edith!”</p> + +<p>And they kissed each other, and Edith +ran into the kitchen and prepared the supper, +humming as she worked, and now and +then a tear stealing down her cheek and +angrily brushed off as she murmured:</p> + +<p>“I promised him I’d be brave.”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III<br> + +<small>THE FIRST NIGHT</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">IT was a sight to watch Edith in the +kitchen. She took to the work as any +healthy-minded woman will; although +she preferred fancy cooking to +plain, and would glory in five-hours’ toil on +fruit-cake and be balked altogether at boiling +eggs. The fine way she sliced bread, +running the knife rhythmically; the delightful +grace she showed as she forked at +potato-slices frying in the pan; the tenderness +she spent on a tough hunk of boiled +meat, abstracted admiration even from her +brothers. They didn’t let on, however; +merely howling their hunger and asking if +supper never would be ready.</p> + +<p>But at table they ate like healthy animals, +and Edith glowed with motherly pleasure. +After their first onslaught had ended, she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> +noticed that they both were glancing at her +knowingly. Finally Sam cleared his throat.</p> + +<p>“Might I inquire,” he asked in a pompous +way he sometimes affected, “if the parlor +is in a condition to receive a caller?”</p> + +<p>“Why?” asked Edith.</p> + +<p>“Because, I suppose, there will <i>be</i> a +caller.”</p> + +<p>“I can fix it up,” said Edith simply.</p> + +<p>The two brothers glanced at each other +and winked. Said Marcus:</p> + +<p>“Ain’t she the baby, Sam?”</p> + +<p>Sam cleared his throat again:</p> + +<p>“And what if this caller is calling on my +sister, Edith?”</p> + +<p>Edith choked on some bread.</p> + +<p>“On <i>me</i>?” she gasped.</p> + +<p>“On you.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Me?</i>” She could not believe her ears.</p> + +<p>“Shall I repeat it?” asked Sam. “I say, +what if this young man is calling on you?”</p> + +<p>“<i>Young man?</i> Goodness!”</p> + +<p>The young men looked at each other and +burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>“Well,” cried Marcus, smiting the table, +“I’ll be damned.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>“You know, Marc,” said Sam, “she never +saw a young man before!”</p> + +<p>Edith leaned forward, her cheeks red.</p> + +<p>“If you’re making fun of me,” she cried +indignantly, “Sam, if this is a joke——” +Then, looking on their grinning faces, she +rippled with laughter, “Oh, I’m such a +fool!—Sam, is someone really going to call +on me? Don’t fool me, Sam.”</p> + +<p>Her voice was so tenderly sweet, that +Sam, to drive home the truth, had to assume +anger.</p> + +<p>“I told you he was coming, and that’s all +there is to it. Call me a liar, why don’t +you?”</p> + +<p>“But—surely?”</p> + +<p>“Did I say so or not?”</p> + +<p>“A young man?”</p> + +<p>“No,” snorted Marcus, “a young elephant!”</p> + +<p>“To see <i>me</i>?”</p> + +<p>“No,” Marcus snorted again, “your +Mother!”</p> + +<p>“But who can want to see me?”</p> + +<p>Sam ahemed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>“Oh—you know and I know and they +know——”</p> + +<p>“I know!” cried Edith, “it’s that bald-headed +Zug.”</p> + +<p>“Zug!” they laughed together, and Sam +added: “Guess again!”</p> + +<p>She had reached the end of her guessing. +Poor Edith! Seventeen, and a young +man’s call was an event to send the blood to +the cheeks and to set the heart a-thump. +She forgot that she was never to be married; +she forgot her questionings; in a moment +of amazement all the yearning and +mystery of the blue morning rushed upon +her, crying: “Edith, you are woman!” She +realized her sex in a white flash, as it were; +and all the wild glory of her natural destiny +rose like a vision before her. Now she +knew. Now the yearnings had a meaning. +Now Earth had a meaning; life had a +meaning. A man wanted to see <i>her</i>. Why? +Because she was a woman. What a wild +wonder to be alive; what an adventure; +what a romance!</p> + +<p>So terrific was this blaze of new light +that all this time she sat with flushed cheeks<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> +and shining, far-seeing eyes and looked so +beautiful that her brothers could not banter +her, but marveled at the strange thing +that had crept into the house. This was not +Edith, their sister. This was someone new, +a stranger. They were surprised, perhaps +a little annoyed. It was a very quiet minute; +but sometimes a minute works great +changes.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Edith leaped up and ran from +the room. The brothers whistled and gave +up girls as a bad job. But Edith had burst +in on her Mother, and sat on the bed beside +her.</p> + +<p>“Mother, what do you think?”</p> + +<p>“Think! Come along!”</p> + +<p>“Mother!”</p> + +<p>“Out with it!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mother, you can’t guess!” She +darted and kissed a sallow cheek.</p> + +<p>The Mother grunted.</p> + +<p>“Mother,” Edith burst out, “someone is +calling on me to-night!”</p> + +<p>“On you? Who?”</p> + +<p>“A man—a young man!”</p> + +<p>“A young man?” Now, was the Mother<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> +indeed amazed. “Ah, dear one, dear one!” +She laughed softly. “So comes a nice young +man.”</p> + +<p>Edith’s glad voice was full of mystery:</p> + +<p>“Who should want to call on me?”</p> + +<p>“Who? What’s his name?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t know?” cried the Mother; “what +a fool! Don’t know his name, and you ask +him to call? Heavens, what a fool!”</p> + +<p>Edith explained, and then was all eagerness. +Was her hair right? Should she put +on her blue dress? Should she change her +collar? Then was her Mother all Mother, +pulsing with joy, patting at the hair, tying +a ribbon, adjusting a collar, and totally forgetting +her troubles. Finally she gave her +daughter a light kiss on the cheek.</p> + +<p>“Who gets you,” she murmured devoutly, +“is a lucky man. I was never so +beautiful myself. I was a good cook, and +no good-looker. But then your father, +<i>selig</i>, Edith, was a big eater. And you +know,” she added wisely, “you can’t eat +looks.”</p> + +<p>Edith wasn’t listening. She was summoning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> +up male-images, but whenever a +new face appeared, immediately Doctor +Rast’s face bobbed through it. If he was +like the Doctor! But who could be like +the Doctor? Who could be so handsome, +so tender, so noble, so good? Doctor Rast +might have answered her, being a man +truthful with himself, and knowing some +of his own limitations. But Edith was a +young girl and had ideals. He was one of +them.</p> + +<p>So Edith wondered, and while she wondered, +she flung into the parlor and gave it +the worst cleaning-up it had ever received. +Pins and threads were stooped for; dust +was vanquished; curtains straightened; and +when she was through the cheerful little +room was trim and tidy. Then two lights +sprang up and flooded the place golden. +As Edith stood, surveying her work, she +did not know how vital was her beauty—breathing +there rich with life, even as a +daisy is rich with sun and moisture and +tint and form. She was just beginning to +ripen—bud unfolding into flower—the +white of dawn was still on her—the careless<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> +grace, the unstudied bewitchment, the +fresh sweetness of a pure young girl.</p> + +<p>Her brothers entered and expressed astonishment +that a room in their flat should +finally clean itself up; but Edith did not +listen to them. And then came the knock.</p> + +<p>Sam consulted his watch:</p> + +<p>“Eight to the dot! I win my bet!”</p> + +<p>Marcus grumbled.</p> + +<p>“Say, sis, open!”</p> + +<p>“<i>You</i> open!” she cried, and vanished.</p> + +<p>Sam opened, and Edith heard low voices. +She felt almost frightened; a little stifled. +Sam spoke at the door:</p> + +<p>“Someone for you, Eed.”</p> + +<p>“For <i>me</i>?”</p> + +<p>She followed him into the golden-flooded +room. Frank Lasser was standing before +her. And swiftly two strange emotions +clashed within her, and left her standing +mute. The first was a horrible disappointment; +this smart young man was no Rast; +the second was a throb of recognition; she +had seen him somewhere. And standing +thus, mute, lips parted, eyes drinking him +in, she did not know her beauty!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>Her brother Sam was speaking:</p> + +<p>“Edith—this is Frank—Frank Lasser—old +friend of mine——”</p> + +<p>Frank reached out his hand, and she felt +it cool and strong about hers. He was +speaking, too; trying to speak in his light +way, and making a bad fizzle of it:</p> + +<p>“You see—Miss Kroll—we work in the +same place.”</p> + +<p>“In the same place? Goldin’s?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—you see——” he paused.</p> + +<p>“Oh!” she cried, and then remembered. +He and Zug, they were at the window quarreling; +she had gone in to quiet them.</p> + +<p>He lowered his glance.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he muttered, “Zug and I—you see +we were at it a little——”</p> + +<p>“A little?” she echoed, and then silver +laughter woke, the air cleared, Frank felt +at home at once, and the brothers made +themselves “scarce”—though not without +inviting Frank to join them “with the +boys,” and expressing consternation that he +did not care for their society and telling +him to “ware, ware the ladies,” until Edith +told them sharply to hurry up and shut out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> +the draught. They shut themselves out +with it.</p> + +<p>The two sat down, Frank on the sofa, +Edith on a chair, and at once Edith was +at her ease, and wondering why she had +felt such strange pangs. Wasn’t she used to +men? She had brothers, and she had +worked several years in business. She +talked to strangers every day. And then +why palpitation because one of them was in +her home? She was inclined to laughter, +which made her eyes sparkle and her voice +melodious:</p> + +<p>“You must be a new man.”</p> + +<p>“I am.”</p> + +<p>“Salesman?”</p> + +<p>“Pennsylvania.”</p> + +<p>“Of course!” laughed Edith, “I entered +it on the books—Frank Lasser. How is it +I didn’t see you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I was just in a moment to see the +boss—ain’t he a terror?—and then I got +out. I really go on to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>Edith wished he wouldn’t say “ain’t.” +He went on feebly:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>“I hope I didn’t make it unpleasant this +morning.”</p> + +<p>“You did—a little,” she said.</p> + +<p>He was puzzled. Up to the present he +had been a great “hand” with the ladies; +his hard handsome face fascinating the fair +sex. But this girl was different; she was +new and strange; naive and direct. There +was something about her, not of the face +or form, that yet was shed by her personality—a +something that came via the eyes +or the voice or the gesture—a something +penetratingly sweet and pure and poignant +with mystery. A spiritual quality new to +Frank. None of his familiar weapons was +available—boisterousness, cynicism, flattery, +all were useless. And so he felt as +if he were weak as water, and yet as if +some new Power were groping into his +heart.</p> + +<p>In the short awkward silence Edith +could not help noticing and disliking his +clothes. The young man had his legs +crossed widely, his hands clasped about his +knee—a favorite position of his, which displayed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> +his light-green socks and patent +leather low shoes. His necktie matched the +socks, and was stuck with a ruby-studded +horseshoe pin. His collar was a “choker”; +his shirt broadly striped. Edith had a sudden +senseless desire to muss his hair; it was +so plastered and shiny. Altogether she began +to think him very odd and funny, and +not to be taken seriously.</p> + +<p>But something had to be done with the +silence, which was deepening, and which +made Frank fidget. Finally he burst out:</p> + +<p>“You see I met your brother Sam—at +least I called at his place—and he promised +to bring me up. Never knew he had a +sister till this morning and then Zug told +me.”</p> + +<p>As she said nothing, merely nodding, he +stammered:</p> + +<p>“What you think of Zug?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Zug? To tell you the truth, I’ve +never thought very much about him. I’m +busy at the office.”</p> + +<p>Frank brightened perceptibly.</p> + +<p>“Say,” he began, “it’s quit raining.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> +Would you care to take a walk, Miss +Kroll?”</p> + +<p>This question was answered by three +hearty knocks on the door. Edith laughed +as she rose:</p> + +<p>“That’s Mr. Grupp.”</p> + +<p>“Grupp?” cried Frank, “Mo Grupp, +salesman for Heimedinger’s? Lordy, I +know Mo.”</p> + +<p>Edith opened the door, and Mr. Grupp +entered. He was a Bavarian built like a +short Grenadier, soldier-straight and stout, +with ruddy face and big spongy nose and +weathered blue eyes. He had been a friend +of the Krolls the last thirty years—watched +the babies grow and the parents age—and +for the delight of the human race spoke +as broken an English as he could command.</p> + +<p>He at once seized Edith under the chin.</p> + +<p>“Ah, Sveetie!” he cried; “how’s my +Sveetie!”</p> + +<p>Frank was seized with impatience; +Edith laughed and drew back.</p> + +<p>“Hello, Mo,” said Frank.</p> + +<p>Mr. Grupp wheeled around.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>“Well, my old college chum!” They +shook hands. “My old college chum!”</p> + +<p>“What brings <i>you</i> here?” asked Frank.</p> + +<p>“Such a question! I was here the day +Edy was born, and you never heard such +a yelling in your life. Have a cigar?” he +drew one from his pocket and held it out, +“It’s my last!”</p> + +<p>Frank refused laughingly, much to Mr. +Grupp’s relief. The older man sat down +and began puffing comfortably. Frank +looked at Edith, but Edith returned to her +chair.</p> + +<p>“Where’s your Mudder?” asked Mr. +Grupp.</p> + +<p>“She’s not so well,” said Edith, “she’s +in bed.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a fine way, when I call on her! +Ach, but I’m sick, too!”</p> + +<p>“Sick?” echoed Edith.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I’ve lost my appetite. I remember +twenty years ago, on my birthday, your +Father, <i>selig</i>, for breakfast said, ‘Eat till +you busted,’ und I eat a big juicy steak and +twenty-two hard-boiled eggs. Then I +could eat. But now? Oh, weh! Oh,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> +Mamma! I have no appetite. I can only +eat breakfast in the morning, and then a little +yowsa (bite) at ten; at noon, dinner, at +four in the afternoon a cup of Mocha, then +supper, and at ten o’clock another yowsa. +I’m a sick man.”</p> + +<p>Edith laughed, for this was an old, old +story. Mr. Grupp noticed how Frank was +fidgeting and enjoyed the little comedy +greatly. He deliberately reached over +again and seized Edith’s chin:</p> + +<p>“Well, my Sveetie!”</p> + +<p>Edith pushed his hand away.</p> + +<p>“Don’t!” she cried.</p> + +<p>“Himmel! how nervous you’re getting. +Yes,” he shook his head, “here they call it +nervous, but in the old country they call it +verrückt (crazy).”</p> + +<p>Frank could not contain himself.</p> + +<p>“Do you want to walk, Miss Kroll?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said Edith. “Would +you wait here, Mr. Grupp? Mother’s +alone.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ho!” Mr. Grupp winked his eye. +“That’s the way, is it? Vell, for a consideration——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>“No,” said Edith, “no kisses.”</p> + +<p>“Vell,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I’m +a poor Yank. So it goes!”</p> + +<p>Edith smiled:</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll ask Mother!”</p> + +<p>This was so naive that Frank almost +laughed. Edith ran into her Mother’s +room.</p> + +<p>“Asleep, dear?” The room was dark.</p> + +<p>“No,” came a soft voice in the warm +darkness.</p> + +<p>Edith felt out and touched the old arms, +the old face.</p> + +<p>“Mother dear,” she leaned over and put +cheek to cheek, “Mr. Grupp is here—he’ll +wait—may I go out for a walk with Mr. +Lasser?”</p> + +<p>The Mother laughed softly and drew the +young face closer:</p> + +<p>“Ach, ya, run along!”</p> + +<p>“You’re sure you won’t need me?”</p> + +<p>“Soon you won’t ask no questions!—Is he +a nice young feller?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. He’s funny.”</p> + +<p>“Well, don’t let him get any funnier till<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> +you know positif his prospects and his savings +and his family.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mother!” cried Edith, shocked.</p> + +<p>She kissed the old face and stole back. +Mr. Grupp was revealing his true heart to +Frank, who was much bored, and kept saying +flippantly, “Aw, cut it out! You don’t +know what you’re talking about”—much to +Edith’s displeasure. Mr. Grupp was talking +Socialism; he was describing the terrible +lot of the toilers in mines and steel +mills, and predicting revolution, all with a +fiery passion that grew incoherent.</p> + +<p>“You will see,” he shouted, “we will +have such a revolution worse than the pogroms +of Russia and the Inquisitive-ition. +Watch my vords.”</p> + +<p>“Cut it,” cried Frank, and then saw +Edith gazing at him.</p> + +<p>Edith said in a low voice that she could +go, so they put on coats and hats, and then +finally Mr. Grupp buttonholed Frank as +he was going out:</p> + +<p>“Take my advice,” he said, “for I know +vomen, Mr. Lasser.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>“Yes,” said Frank irritably.</p> + +<p>Mr. Grupp spoke dramatically with +flourishes of the arm.</p> + +<p>“A tiger, Mr. Lasser, a <i>lion</i>, Mr. Lasser, +a <i>rhinoceros</i>, Mr. Lasser, <i>even a rattlesnake</i>, +Mr. Lasser, you can tame—but a +vomen, <i>never</i>!”</p> + +<p>This was one of his pet formulas, and +Edith laughed. Mr. Grupp continued:</p> + +<p>“If you want to be happy—fifty years +engaged, and one year married!”</p> + +<p>Frank, catching Edith’s eye then, laughed +too, and they went out, groping their way +down the dim stairs and into the street. +There was something wild about the night, +something sharp and vivid. Tattered +clouds, in the highest skies, were racing, +and it seemed as if the edge-broken moon +were tumbling and plunging into the fleece—shrouded +a moment, and then spilling +through the thin silver fringe, and then +rolling into a glory of moonlight. A star +here and there came and went. The street-lamps +sparkled sharp; the shop-windows +were lit; the pavement, still wet, was +daubed gold or silver by every light; and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> +people were wandering about, free and +fresh in the cold blowing air.</p> + +<p>As they walked along, Frank, under +cover of night, became voluble, as if in answer +to the Mother’s question. Twelve a +week and his expenses and commission; he +could easily earn eighteen to twenty a +week; a little family could live on that. He +knew her brothers and many of the family +friends. He remembered her father “one +of the best of them”—an easy spender, a +good fellow. He knew how to live! It’s +an art this generation hasn’t learned. Now, +heavens, he knew fellows who didn’t smoke, +or play cards, or go to the races, or go +around. Was the world becoming womanized? +The sissies! Why, a fellow wasn’t +a man until he had been through it all! +Take this Zug; he was a queer one. Well, +he smoked; a fellow had to with a customer; +and he used to be a regular devil. +But lately, he’s a sis. Stays home with his +folks at night; never touches a drop; never +gambles. Tame as a dog. Eat out of your +hand. Reformed all but his temper. Did +Edith favor that type of man?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>But Edith was with the racing moon. +His talk had been blowing about her with +the noises of the great night-city—the roar +of the elevated train, the rattle of a late +wagon, the stir and talk of people. Something +of the morning came back to her, +something of the romance that goes on unseen +through all the world. The wild skies, +the clear-eyed city, the buoyant air, the feel +of a universe in action—everything intensely +alive, pulsing, dreaming, struggling—not +a grain of dust without its motion—and +she moving through all, a part of the +processes, a part of the to-and-fro, the give-and-take +of living Nature. Glory was +afoot; adventure was at hand. Whither +was it all leading? What wild destiny was +whirling her through this chaos of life? +How good to breathe the air, how good to +feel the blood tingle from ankle to neck, +how good to swing along—give the body +its way—give the mind to the moon, and +the heart to the stirring people. She +wanted to speak of it; loose the tumult +within her; she felt creative, as all young +people do; she wanted all this glory to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> +prompt her brain and her hands, until she +shaped life, handled human beings, +wrought in the world.</p> + +<p>So, at his question, she dropped from the +skies, as it were, to his side, and felt a sympathy +for this living being who shared the +night with her.</p> + +<p>He repeated his question.</p> + +<p>“Shall I tell you,” she said softly, “what +I like in a man?”</p> + +<p>He felt a thrill steal through him; all +the new Power worked on him and made +him weak.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” he murmured in a new voice—a +voice lacking his habitual glibness and +coarseness.</p> + +<p>“I like a man to be simple and sincere—just +himself——” she hesitated, and then +went on with great courage. “In his +clothes, too—not too flashy—rather too +quiet—and the same in his manners. And +he ought to think of others, and be very +kind with stupid or weak people. I like +such men—and women, too.”</p> + +<p>The effect of these plain words was emphatic. +It was the new Power at work. It<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> +was the woman-soul for the first time +sweeping over his. He saw himself in a +new light, and was acutely conscious of his +socks, tie, pin, and shirt. He suddenly felt +that Edith was at a great distance, and that, +dressed as he was, and mannered as he was, +he could not come an inch closer. That a +woman should ever affect him in this way +was inconceivable. That something pure +and sweet should begin to bubble like a +spring in his heart was a new experience. +He felt uncomfortable—almost meek.</p> + +<p>Edith went on, in a low voice:</p> + +<p>“Do you know Doctor Rast?”</p> + +<p>“Rast?” he stammered, “Dr. Rast?—Oh, +I guess I’ve heard of him. He’s that”—he +was going to say—“molly coddle,” but desisted.</p> + +<p>“Dr. Rast,” said the young idealist +slowly, “is just what a man should be. He +never thinks of himself; he gives his whole +life to help others; he makes people glad +they are living. He’s very wonderful.”</p> + +<p>Frank was more and more disturbed. +Edith went on:</p> + +<p>“He loves people. Once I heard him<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> +call the poor down here on the East Side, +‘the beloved people!’”</p> + +<p>They walked in silence.</p> + +<p>“He’s so real,” said Edith fervently.</p> + +<p>Frank felt a jealous stab.</p> + +<p>“Is he married?”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” laughed Edith softly, “very much. +And he has a boy three years old. I kissed +him this morning.”</p> + +<p>“The Doctor?”</p> + +<p>Edith’s silver laughter matched the +moon.</p> + +<p>“No—the little boy.”</p> + +<p>They had almost unconsciously retraced +their steps and stood before the doorway of +the tenement.</p> + +<p>“May I come up?” asked Frank.</p> + +<p>“No,” said Edith simply, “my Mother +isn’t well. I must look after her now.”</p> + +<p>Frank hesitated; thoughts and feelings +hitherto unknown clamored at his lips; his +eyes were glistening; he felt something +break within, some hard crust about his +heart; he was in a melting mood. It was +her exquisite face, the light of blue eyes in +the light of the moon, the quivering lips,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> +the tinted cheeks, the stray hair; it was the +night; it was the glory of the new Power. +His heart pounded, he was breathless, something +shuddered down his back. He held +out his hand, and when he enclosed hers +and felt the little cool daintiness in his +grasp, the moment grew musical and magic +for him.</p> + +<p>He caught her eyes then, and as she saw +the strangeness of his, the expression of concern +and longing and humility, the mother +in her awoke. Was he trying for her sake? +She pitied him, she wanted to help him, she +looked at him with a sweet sadness. She +took him into her life. She even, for a +moment, liked his face.</p> + +<p>At that look, all crashed within him. +His eyes dimmed; her sweetness made him +faint; her presence was a power that swept +him. He had to speak.</p> + +<p>“I want to say,” he said brokenly, humbly, +“I want to say—you’ve made me feel +different on some things. I never knew a +woman who—who made me feel this way. +Good-night.”</p> + +<p>Her heart sang.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>“You must come again—soon!” she cried.</p> + +<p>And then she was gone.</p> + +<p>It was as if he were a baby again in his +Mother’s arms. All the buried goodness +and tenderness and love emerged again. He +wandered home in a dream; he sought out +his home in Henry Street, hardly noticed +his mother and father and their two friends +who were playing pinochle in the dining +room, and went to bed. He could not sleep. +He kept trying to see Edith’s face—but it +only came in enchanted glimpses—a glance +of eyes, a quiver of lips, a tint of cheeks. +More subtle and strong was the power of +her spirit, sweeping over him like an ocean +of sunrise, with singing voices and silent +light and snatches of heavenly beauty and +peace. He tried to summon up remembrance +of the many women he had met—“peaches” +all. But they somehow had lost +their good looks. They were hard, coarse, +vulgar. All the new Power in him repulsed +these images. He could not laugh +at himself, he could not be sufficiently +amazed. All he knew was that henceforth +there was but one real woman; and that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> +there was a hidden man in him long subdued, +but now rising in strength and vitality +and claiming possession of his body. +For hours he lay awake, very still, very +quiet, while music came and went, and visions +of the Unseeable swept his brain, and +his heart bubbled like a white dawn. It +was a night of death and birth.</p> + +<p>But Edith slept soundly beside her +Mother. The Mother had asked her:</p> + +<p>“Well, is he funny yet?”</p> + +<p>“Sort of,” said Edith tenderly, “but he +can be nice when he wants to.”</p> + +<p>“H’m,” muttered the Mother.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV<br> + +<small>THE SECOND NIGHT</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">ONE reason why Frank had never +met a good woman was that since +he was old enough to take to the +streets he had not met his Mother. She +was the type of woman one might call +a shadow. Thin she was, frail, small, with +large eyes and lips and fast-fading hair, +and by dressing in black she made herself +all the more obscure. Her husband was all +bluster, emotion, impatience—March +weather, a short man with a hawk nose and +blood-shot eyes. The mother was negative, +passive, unprotesting.</p> + +<p>Wherefore when Frank came into the +dining room that next morning and put his +arms about her and gently kissed her, she +was shocked, and feared he was ill. Her +alarm increased as she noted his appearance.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> +He had on a dark shirt and a black +tie; his collar was low; his face pale.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter, Frank?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Nothing, Mother.” He smiled gently.</p> + +<p>“I thought——” but shadows do not tell +their thoughts.</p> + +<p>Gazing at her with curious eyes, Frank +felt he was making a discovery. He began +to realize how shabby her life was, lived +possibly in an area of ten square city +blocks. She never went anywhere; her sole +pleasure was cards; her life was the common +lot of the women of the poor—washing, +scrubbing, cooking, sewing, marketing. +Frank saw the pitiful lines of her +face, the large hungry eyes, the tragic want. +It went through him like a needle of pain +that this too was a woman with all a woman’s +passions. Poor Mother! Seven times +had she brought to this world in pain a human +child. Seven seasons had she had of +sickness unto death. Three times had she +kissed a child’s dead face and buried a +fragment of her soul under Earth. And +those who had lived! Sickness, poverty, +constant worry and care, constant sewing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> +and washing. And yet she had said that +she had not known trouble till her sixth +child was born—her first boy—Frank. +Frank remembered the phrase, and began +to see something heroic in the quiet woman. +He made up his mind to bring her some +flowers that evening. He was the only +child at home; the rest were married.</p> + +<p>He was also deferential to his father, so +much so that that gentleman suspected a +plot, and began to bluster:</p> + +<p>“You good-for-nothing loafer,” he cried, +shaking his newspaper, “what are you +after? If it’s money, go zum kukuk!”</p> + +<p>Luckily, enough of the old Frank came +back to answer this:</p> + +<p>“Shut up, governor!” he snapped.</p> + +<p>And the governor relaxed.</p> + +<p>Frank kissed his mother good-by and +went out into the brilliant weather. The +wild fresh winds were loosed over the earth +like young colts; blobs of white cloud swam +over the blue; the sun came and went, the +streets darkening into winter and then +bursting splendid into spring. The air had +an electric quality, that charged the heart<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> +with lusty life. It was a morning for brisk +walking, hard work, joy and good nature. +Shadows slapped buildings and gutter, and +vanished.</p> + +<p>Frank hurried through the familiar +streets. There was something glad and +good in him; he had discovered his mother; +now he was discovering a new world. He +was really trying to see through Edith’s +eyes—to measure the world with the new +man within him. As truly as he did not +know his new self, he did not know these +familiar people and streets. Life took on +a new aspect; a new light bathed the world, +and people, steeped in it, appeared divine. +He had a feeling of wanting to stop people +and shake them by the hands and tell them: +“I know you now. You, too, love and have +loved.” Truly the world was a deeper and +greater place than he had dreamed! There +was more than the glittering surfaces and +the laughter: there was a touch of glory, a +vital meaning, a struggle of millions of destinies. +And everywhere sprang the vision +in shade and shine—sweet Edith.</p> + +<p>Further than that his thought could not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> +go, for he was fumbling with new sensations, +and could only feel them. But he +was humble and glad and sad and thoughtful, +and he longed with all his heart to see +the young girl.</p> + +<p>So thinking, almost instinctively he +walked to Grand and Clinton on a chance +of meeting her. Instead he met Marcus. +He had a new feeling for Marcus, because +he was Edith’s brother. So he looked at +him keenly, and noticed his peaked and +drawn face, the look of haggard exhaustion, +the expression of listless indifference.</p> + +<p>As they walked along Frank asked him +what the trouble was.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” said Marcus bitterly, “women.”</p> + +<p>“Women, eh?”</p> + +<p>Marcus spoke more bitterly: “Why +don’t they put a fellow wise? Here I go +and get this trouble—why, I ain’t much of +a sport, either.”</p> + +<p>“Tut, I’ve taken trouble from women +myself.”</p> + +<p>Marcus evidently didn’t know all the ins +and outs.</p> + +<p>“It’s curable, ain’t it?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>“Sure thing! You just go to one of those +fellows who advertise in the papers. He’ll +fix you in a few weeks.”</p> + +<p>“Were you cured?”</p> + +<p>“Of course.”</p> + +<p>“Are you sure, though?”</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s the simplest thing in the +world. Quit your worrying. Every boy +gets it. He’s not a man till he’s been +through it.”</p> + +<p>Marcus was very bitter about the women. +They were the ruination of the world; wild +oats full of rotten disease; marriage not +only a gamble but a hell.</p> + +<p>Said Frank soothingly:</p> + +<p>“I used to think the same myself. I think +differently now. A good woman is an angel.”</p> + +<p>It did not occur to him that his change +of attitude was wrought overnight.</p> + +<p>And so they walked along, and then +Marcus drifted off into the thronging people +to such business as the day held for +him, and Frank, with eager, quick steps, +climbed to the loft, passed through the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> +roar of machines and the dim beings in the +twilight and entered the front office.</p> + +<p>Zug was standing at the shut window in +a familiar attitude, foot on the low sill, +hands in pockets. Frank made up his mind +to be good to Zug, for, under the new dispensation, +Zug also was a human being.</p> + +<p>“Brisk weather!” he said.</p> + +<p>He fell into Zug’s attitude and both +gazed idly at the busy street—the children +snaking in and out, the fat women nosing +about the pushcarts, the pedlars with their +Babylonian beards, all the strange people +garbed modernly and yet as old as Israel. +It was a bright, living sight—dabs of red, +blue, black—a mix and shuffle of faces and +forms—each body standing out distinctly as +it threaded among the others. Cars clanged +by, wagons hurried.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Zug, “a snappy morning!”</p> + +<p>He did not look at Frank.</p> + +<p>Then came a light tread and both turned. +There she was, just as we saw her yesterday. +Blue hat, black feather; graceful +girlish form, lines that rippled; wild-rose<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> +face. The light of the morning had risen; +penetrated the clothing loft, and shone +there like love. She smiled sweetly at both. +Both murmured some nothingness. She +passed into the other office. Only sunset remained—the +empty glowing shell of day. +They heard the little clatter as she uncovered +the typewriter and set to work cleaning +it. They loved the busy toil of her +fingers. They imagined her face, bending +low, absorbed.</p> + +<p>“Jonas,” said Frank, low, “come to lunch +with me to-day.”</p> + +<p>Jonas muttered his willingness.</p> + +<p>They went that noon to Fleischer’s Bakery, +in narrow Division Street, in darkness +under the elevated road. When the door +opens, and it does often (so many go to +Fleischer’s), the passing train drowns out +speech. But Fleischer’s was the place! +There you could get eggs—sunny side up, +browned-on-both, omelet, jelly or plain, +scrambled, boiled,—and cakes! Cakes! +Rings, eclairs, puffs, apple or cheese. And +the waitresses, Jewish-fashion, show that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> +they are not menials and inferiors, but +speak to you familiarly, and quarrel with +you as if you belonged to the family. +There never was an inferior Jew. Even if +he is a pedlar he will discuss the weather +or the cost of living or the Talmud as if he +were an elder brother. To be a Jew is to +belong to the oldest aristocracy of earth.</p> + +<p>Students here sipped their coffee and +talked Socialism, or Kant and Hegel, or +Music or Literature, or the latest performance +at the Yiddish theatre. Business men +traded. Working girls gossiped of bosses, +and she says, and he says, and do you know +him, and what do you think.</p> + +<p>Frank and Jonas had a little marble table +to themselves, and spoke as best they could +in the uproar.</p> + +<p>Said Jonas:</p> + +<p>“I saw you with Marc this morning.”</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p>“You know him pretty well, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Known him years.”</p> + +<p>“Intimate?”</p> + +<p>“Enough to call on him.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>“Call? You ever call there?”</p> + +<p>“Only last night!” Frank, in spite of +himself, could not forbear a smile.</p> + +<p>Jonas spoke jealously:</p> + +<p>“You said yesterday you didn’t know +Miss Kroll.”</p> + +<p>“No more I did. I know her now, +though!”</p> + +<p>Frank saw the vein on Jonas’ forehead +swell out, and as Jonas leaned toward him, +and said in a low voice:</p> + +<p>“Lasser, I want to say something to you,” +he felt again that electric atmosphere as of +two souls grappling in death struggle. He +was not in a mood for trifling, and something +dark issued up from his heart and his +blood swiftened.</p> + +<p>“Go ahead,” he muttered, “but cut it +short.”</p> + +<p>Zug leaned nearer, and his voice came +low:</p> + +<p>“Lasser, what’s your game with this +girl?”</p> + +<p>“What’s yours?”</p> + +<p>“Lasser,” Zug broke out, still keeping his +voice private, “I know you. I know what<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> +women mean to you. I’m not going to have +<i>her</i> made unhappy.”</p> + +<p>The darkness in Frank deepened into +blackness. He felt demons within him, a +rage never before felt.</p> + +<p>“Who gave <i>you</i> charge of her?” he muttered.</p> + +<p>“Who?” Zug’s voice came as if he were +smothering or strangling, “I—I love her—I +want to marry her—I—I love Edith!”</p> + +<p>Frank at that moment did not sense the +tragedy of Zug’s life; he only felt outraged +and blind devilish anger. He spoke +very quietly:</p> + +<p>“I ain’t a baby, Zug, and if ever you talk +to me this way again, I’ll knock you down!”</p> + +<p>Zug leaned still nearer.</p> + +<p>“Be careful, Lasser. I swear I’ll watch +and protect her, and trip you up!”</p> + +<p>Frank arose, and spoke hotly:</p> + +<p>“I’ll pay for you as I go out.”</p> + +<p>Zug rose:</p> + +<p>“No you won’t. I’ll not take anything +from you, Lasser!”</p> + +<p>They elbowed each other at the cashier’s +desk and each paid for his own lunch.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> +Then they went out and separated. Zug +returned to the office. He found Edith +washing her hands in the little white basin. +She looked very pretty, her sleeves up, and +she nodded to him laughingly.</p> + +<p>He paused beside her and tried to command +himself. He was going to do her a +service. She should come under his wing, +Edith, the innocent. As he struggled with +himself a beam of sunlight smote through +the window, making the water flash, and +lighting Edith’s face as she looked at him.</p> + +<p>He wanted to take her in his arms and +kiss her vivid face. Then he spoke:</p> + +<p>“What do you think of our new salesman?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Lasser?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she said lightly, “I guess he’s all +right.”</p> + +<p>Zug burst out strangely:</p> + +<p>“No, he isn’t all right. He’s led a fast +life. I’d almost call him a dissipated fellow. +He’s not the sort you ought to know.”</p> + +<p>“No?”</p> + +<p>He had reckoned without the woman in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> +Edith. Glancing up, he saw that she was +offended. She dried her hands slowly, and +spoke evenly:</p> + +<p>“You must never talk that way again, +Mr. Zug. I don’t like it!”</p> + +<p>She went out. How could he know that +she whom he wanted to take under his wing +was taking Frank under <i>her</i> wing? That +all the creative, the mother in her had +risen, and she was filled with a passion for +making a man out of him. Zug could not +work that afternoon; he walked miles +through the city, even up to Central Park, +torn with jealousy, despair, and love, and +struggling with his doom. He felt the +coming of a great tragedy. He felt that +Edith, unknown to herself, had swung out +on the perilous seas of life, and that her +pilot would steer her on the rocks. When +he thought of her pure girlhood, her fresh +beauty, her spiritual strength, and foresaw +the change that might come—the +change to disaster, the blighting of the bud, +the dry-rot of the years, it seemed to him +that he would go insane. Who could protect +her? She was enfolded in ignorance<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> +and carelessness—the stupid old mother, +the flippant brothers. Where was there +help? Her own innocence was now her +worst enemy. Vile system of education that +allows boys to get their knowledge of sex +on the street and then turns them loose on +girls who know nothing, girls who are carefully +shielded from the very facts that concern +them deepest! What more near to a +girl than motherhood? And here was +Edith, just made to be a wife, a mother, +even created for love and joy of husband +and laughing children, and she knew so +little. She could be led by a Lasser, and +God knows the Lassers of this world have +wrecked many sweet possibilities.</p> + +<p>Full of this storm was Zug, poor honest +fellow! He was nearly thirty; he had not +been an angel; but there was in him something +solid and sound—a right worthy man—a +man who would have served Edith like +a faithful dog, showered her with “attentions,” +foreseen her least wishes, shielded +her from pain, smoothed out life’s wrinkles, +blunted the blows of tragedy. All this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> +he had done for her, and given her, too, +passionately strong children.</p> + +<p>So he went his way, raving; as many +others at this moment go <i>their</i> way raving; +this being a strange world. The whole +heart wishes something; the passion that +fills it we connect with God; it seems inevitable; +for this we were born. But never +in our lives shall we have it. Another +comes and takes it easily. And if such is +our nature, we rave. If we could wing in +an aeroplane above the city, and the roofs +were removed, and through some new telescope +we could see simultaneously the lives +of four million people, the sight would +be branded on the brain as with white fire. +Women shrieking with childbirth, death-rattle +of babe or man, deserted wives, suicides, +crime, lust, ruin, a host that rave. +And yet walk the streets—how common are +these people! How curious or happy or +listless! A stolid crowd! The men in the +cars read their papers, the people in skyscrapers +talk business, the restaurants are +filled with chatter and laughter, the theaters +roar with applause.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>And so Zug, whose imagination was not +social, walked through a city of souls, who +all about him wept, shrieked, laughed, +toiled, raved, and he knew it not. Out of +four millions three were vivid and real—Edith, +Lasser, himself. And so he went his +way.</p> + +<p>Edith and Frank went <i>their</i> way.</p> + +<p>Edith was putting on coat and hat under +the electric bulb at six, when Frank asked +if he could accompany her. She smilingly +assenting, they went out together. Her +blood was up; her heart and mind roused. +She knew already her power over this man, +and was too much of a woman and too ignorant +not to use it. It was an experiment +in motherhood. So she saw no harm in +having him at her side, and she made up +her mind to give him much good advice +and plenty of ideals. Withal she was so +much herself, or possibly, so full of more +than herself (heaven and earth is in all +youth!) that Frank noticed no change.</p> + +<p>The skies had cleared, and were beginning +to fill with stars; the wind had died, +the air warmed. Again Spring leapt on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> +the earth, dancing over sea, and city and +prairie, scattering blossoms and babies, and +hope and youth and love. The city +throbbed all about them; windows shone +golden with hint of supper and gathered +families; the day’s work was ended. Evening +had come with peace and joy and contentment. +Frank had so much to say that +he said nothing. He wanted to tell her of +his long sleepless night. But her presence +at his side, the touch of her elbow, the +swing of her skirt, the faint glimpses of her +face, flung a wild enchantment over him. +And she, too, at the first new breath of +Spring, was swept by strange passions. Not +as yesterday—vague yearning, vague desire, +the sadness and longing for something than +all things wilder, sweeter. She felt sex. +She felt that she was a woman, and he a +man. She felt that she was being wooed—the +old, old romance, the magic pursuit, the +witchery of the hunt. Beautiful it was, and +sad as moon-stirred seas, filling the eyes +with tears, shaking the sweet flesh with +tremors, waking the brain to the music of +the earth and the heavens.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>So neither spoke, but at the doorway:</p> + +<p>“It will be such a good night to-night for +a walk,” said Frank.</p> + +<p>“All right; then come at eight!”</p> + +<p>He came. Edith laughed at his side. +The warmth of the night had drawn people +out of doors, as the sun’s heat unfolds buds. +The streets flowered with human beings. +Boys and girls played across the gutter; +women sat out on stoops with their babies; +organ-grinders were abroad with shouted +song; the soda-water stands at corners were +being tapped of green and scarlet liquids, +weird to eye and tongue; and the lovers +wove their way like melodies through the +air. Oh, air, languishing, caressing, perfect! +Oh, scene, human, warm, divine! +Oh, night with yonder still, still moon, +nearly full.... Silver is on the pulsing +city; towers loom black; ferries glisten red +and green and gold on the swimming tides. +On such a night!</p> + +<p>Edith was laughing.</p> + +<p>“Marc was going out, but I told him to +stay till I got back. He didn’t want to, so +I made him!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>Frank laughed.</p> + +<p>“Where shall we go? Do you ever go to +the Nickel Theater?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and I love to. But first we must +go to Dr. Rast. I have to report Mother’s +case!”</p> + +<p>Dr. Rast! So he would see the Ideal. +His blood quickened.</p> + +<p>“Is your Mother very ill?”</p> + +<p>Sad was Edith:</p> + +<p>“Yes—very—she has a weak heart—you +know what that means.”</p> + +<p>Frank said nothing; Edith went on +tragically:</p> + +<p>“Really, if anything happened to Mother——”</p> + +<p>Frank’s heart went out in pity:</p> + +<p>“Why should anything happen?”</p> + +<p>“She gets excited—and she mustn’t—anything +like that might kill her!”</p> + +<p>Frank found nothing further to say, and +then, queer thing, strive as she would, +Edith could keep neither fear nor grief in +her heart. They sprang from her breast +like birds and disappeared in yonder moon. +Magic poured into her; she laughed over<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> +trifles; she felt elate, free, gay. Wings +sprouted on her shoulder-blades and lifted +her lightly along. On such a night! Frank +was enchanted with her; all the spiritual +strength of hers was now touched with airy +poetry, winding him with light ecstasy.</p> + +<p>She would stop to look at a baby, or +clutch a dirty little urchin, or mark the +progress of the moon judged by the house-tops, +or point out a drift of chimney smoke +thinning into silver; and so they tripped +along, or winged along, neither now being +near the earth, darted across the Playground +Park, that lay bare and black-shadowed +in the moonlight and came to Dr. +Rast’s office. The hall-door was open, so +they went in and knocked.</p> + +<p>The Doctor flung open the door.</p> + +<p>“Edith?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she laughed, “and this,” Frank +emerged from darkness, “is Mr. Lasser.”</p> + +<p>“Glad to know you!” he shook hands +with Frank. “Come in!”</p> + +<p>They entered the cozy glowing office, +with its flat top desk in center, its curtains, +its shining instrument case. Nell was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> +sitting on the rocker, at her everlasting +sewing. The windows were open; the +street-noise entered; but the hush and sanctity +of home were in the room—an atmosphere +steeped with love and content and +labor done and done well. The tears came +to Edith’s eyes. Just such a home did she +want! But with whom? She glanced curiously +at Frank.</p> + +<p>He was studying the Doctor; his handsome +face, throbbing with life, was intent +on the Ideal. So this was it—big, dark, +smooth-faced, simple. Edith understood +his studious look. She thrilled to think that +he was studying a model.</p> + +<p>All of which was in the flash of a moment. +Nell rose and greeted Edith with +a kiss, and met Frank with extended hand. +The Doctor puffed hard at his pipe. Nell +put an arm about Edith.</p> + +<p>“Morris,” she cried, “did you ever see a +girl so radiantly happy?”</p> + +<p>The Doctor looked from Edith to Frank, +and from Frank to Edith. He didn’t much +favor Frank. But he laughed heartily.</p> + +<p>“What’s up, Edith?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>“Nothing.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing at all?” asked the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“Nothing.”</p> + +<p>Whereupon all four laughed as if that +were a huge joke.</p> + +<p>“I guess it’s the weather,” said Nell.</p> + +<p>“H’m,” said the Doctor, “H’m!”</p> + +<p>Edith explained then that her mother +had had a bad day, and would the Doctor +look in to-morrow? He said he would.</p> + +<p>Edith dismissed the subject:</p> + +<p>“Where’s the baby?”</p> + +<p>“Davy?” growled the Doctor. “Don’t +you call him a baby.” He imitated his son. +“He’s a <i>big boy</i>!”</p> + +<p>“Want to see him?” asked Nell. “Fast +asleep!”</p> + +<p>They started arms round each other.</p> + +<p>“May I come, too?” asked Frank.</p> + +<p>“Surely,” cried the Doctor. “I, too.”</p> + +<p>They all went on tiptoe in the dark bedroom, +and the Doctor lit the gas, turning it +dim. Softly they peered into the crib, and +saw that perfect miracle—the head sideways, +red lips parted, cheek rosy, lids together, +tuft of hair on the pillow, and one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> +little hand lying on the coverlet. A living +child, but snatched to the far world of +sleep. Breathing, but a blank. Heart beating, +but all the vision of this earth shut +away.</p> + +<p>“Beautiful,” murmured Edith.</p> + +<p>She turned to Frank.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you love little children?” she +whispered.</p> + +<p>Never had he loved them, but a terrific +pang went through him. Now he loved +them.</p> + +<p>“I do—I do,” he breathed.</p> + +<p>Softly they went out. The ties between +Edith and Frank were thickening. Those +last few words had stirred both to the soul. +How could he help thinking of <i>their</i> children? +How could she help thinking of <i>her</i> +children? And the father? The Doctor +and Nell said little to these entranced visitors. +There was little to say. What would +you say to an angel that suddenly flew in +at the window? So the Doctor shut them +out into a moonlight night, and Nell and he +looked at each other with glistening eyes.</p> + +<p>“Her time has come,” whispered the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> +Doctor. “The bud begins to open. Springtime—girlhood! +Oh, the mystery!”</p> + +<p>“But do you like him?” asked Nell.</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to marry him,” said the +Doctor.</p> + +<p>Into the moonlight stepped our pretty +pair. Or rather winged again. And thus +found themselves in the Playground Park.</p> + +<p>“Shall we sit a little?” asked he.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” laughed she.</p> + +<p>They sat down on a bench; behind them +green was tipping the branches of a bush; +the earth smelt damp and new; and above +them, stars, stars, stars ... and the +moon....</p> + +<p>“Just look!” said Edith.</p> + +<p>He looked; she looked—everywhere +stars, dimmed about the solemn glory of +the moon.</p> + +<p>“What are they, I wonder,” whispered +she, “so far from us?”</p> + +<p>“They say,” he murmured, “many of +them are worlds bigger than this world and +people live on them....”</p> + +<p>“Oh, isn’t the world big,” said she.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>“We down here,” laughed Frank, “are +nothing.”</p> + +<p>“But we see it all!”</p> + +<p>They were silent.</p> + +<p>“And isn’t it beautiful!” breathed Edith. +“Did you ever know how beautiful it was +before!”</p> + +<p>“No,” he whispered, “never.”</p> + +<p>“Everything seems alive,” she whispered, +“the earth ... the air ... the +moon ... the stars ... we....”</p> + +<p>On such a night! Oh, moon, that shinest +on these young souls! Oh, air, fragrant +with earth, caressing, languishing! Oh, +world so fearfully wrought, so marvelous +and magical! Oh, we living beings that +breathe this air, that see yonder moon and +stars, that feel this night! Why should we +not give up our hearts to these strange ecstasies, +these wild enchantments? Is not +life common enough, sordid enough—— +Why not one night of magic and glamour?</p> + +<p>The two trembled close together; his face +was softened with unselfish love; the night +and Edith had conquered him. His face<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> +was almost beautiful with man-beauty. He +leaned and whispered near.</p> + +<p>“Listen!”</p> + +<p>He half-turned toward her, and their +eyes met.</p> + +<p>“I want to tell you,” he whispered, and +his heart poured mellow with the words, +“you’ve changed me; made a man of me. I +never knew there was such a woman!”</p> + +<p>She was looking into his eyes. Her face +was perfect with its sadness, its ecstasy, its +flash and tint and shadow and fire. And +then, as she saw his changed face and heard +the wonderful words, suddenly a bolt of +electric lightning shot her heart, sprang +through her eyes, smote through his, consumed +him head to foot. Both were weakened; +trembled; could not look away.</p> + +<p>He murmured:</p> + +<p>“Edith.”</p> + +<p>She sighed.</p> + +<p>“Edith.”</p> + +<p>Then her eyes fell.</p> + +<p>“No,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>But the thing had happened. For life +and death, Edith, you are his, he is yours.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> +Nature has spoken through you both, and +Nature is stronger than either of you. He +is what he is, O Seventeen, but whatever he +is, he is yours. Marriages are not arranged +by mortals—at least, not the real ones.</p> + +<p>Surely there are many powers in this +world. Have we not given some of them +names? Electricity, heat, light, steam, +gravitation. But there are many other +Powers, Powers unclassified, bunched under +just one name—God. It is when these +Powers are at work that we little human +beings are used by mighty hands.</p> + +<p>Remember Edith’s age. She was just +ripening; she was just awake to sex; she +was ready. The moment came. Frank +happened to be beside her. Nature flung +the bolt through her and him.</p> + +<p>She was looking down. There was a long +and sacred silence. For in the first glow, +contact is a sacrilege, and words are useless. +Frank’s better nature was uppermost. He +would have died for her at the moment. +He was breathless; he could not see. He +knew, and she knew. That was enough. +Not yet, O Human Marriage! And yet<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> +could they ever be more married than at +that first flash?</p> + +<p>She murmured in a queer, tremulous +voice:</p> + +<p>“Take me home.... I want to go +home.”</p> + +<p>He conducted her silently. They saw +no people, though this happens to be an inhabited +city; they saw no houses; they saw +no moon nor lamps. Voices they heard, +pouring an ecstatic music; spheres of fire +winged about them. They were not in +Time and Space; they were in ... +Love.</p> + +<p>For many hours, before sleeping, they +heard that music, saw that fire.</p> + +<p>We may not tell of it. But we know. +We, too, were young.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V<br> + +<small>SPRING MUSIC</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">WHO shall yet come to our earth and +sing to us of love? Many have +tried: Sappho and Shakespeare +and Dante and Tennyson. Tut! our own +hearts sing better. Yet let a hint be given +here and there, to recall our hearts to the +sacred theme.</p> + +<p>Eighty wonderful days passed over the +earth, though you and I knew it not. While +we were grubbing downtown and eating +and sleeping uptown, Edith and Frank +were in the Enchanted Gardens. Enchanted +Gardens, by the way, are everywhere. +On mountain tops and in mid-seas, +in the Bermudas or in the Rockies, desolate +coasts or democratic prairies. So, too, +are the Enchanted Gardens in the slums of +the city. For, after all, they exist not in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> +stone and water and soil and vegetation; +their dwelling is the human soul.</p> + +<p>Edith sits at her typewriter, someone +enters, and at once there is music in the air; +or the two walk home together talking intimately; +or they sit in the golden-flooded +parlor, the mother darning stockings and +telling them her troubles; or they wander +among the people on a perfect night; or +Frank is away in his Pennsylvania with +daily interchange of letters—prosaic +enough to the outsider, pure poetry to two +of us.</p> + +<p>And yet, all this time, not one word of +love. Such things can be! How many +times our young man wants to speak out; +how many times our young woman wants +to listen. He does not speak, she does not +hear. Why? There are a hundred reasons, +light as air. He wants to make good +at his new job; she has qualms about her +mother. Marriage must wait. And why +hurry? Is it not enough just to <i>be</i>—to +know and see and meet and part, while the +days drift by, and earth is full of dream +and witchery? No, in this first sacred passion,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> +no contact is needed, no kiss, no word +of love. The golden air that wraps them is +enough.</p> + +<p>And all the while Love is ripening the +girl. She is fast becoming a woman; she +sees the world now as an assemblage of +children. She, the Mother, has come to it. +Grave is the responsibility, sweet the burden. +There are visions of home and little +ones and the husband coming from work +at night. Fast is she becoming a woman. +Everyone notes it. The new dignity, the +sweet seriousness of eyes, the troubled air, +the grace of carriage. Even her form responds, +and seems to bloom, with greater +richness and roundness. Her clothes, too, +cease to be girlish. Her own mother doesn’t +know her, she changes so day to day. Her +brothers cease to talk down to her, and are +forced to respect her. She is more tender +about the house; she helps thoughtfully; she +sympathizes. And yet, at a moment’s notice, +off she flings her new mantle of womanhood, +and is a radiant ecstasy, a whirl of +music and laughter, a wildness of enchantment. +Those are moments when she breaks<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> +open the kissed letter in secret, or hears +someone’s knock at the door, or casually +meets someone in the street.</p> + +<p>And we cannot help admiring Frank. +Cynicism, flippancy, indecency are buried +with the wild oats. He has become a serious-mannered +man. He thinks deeply +these days. He goes on with his discovery +of the world, and his heartstrings pulse to +the life about him. His mother’s cheeks +begin to glow; she ceases to be a shadow. +Frank is the most wonderful son in the +world. How thoughtful! Yesterday he +brought me a belt-buckle from Pittsburgh! +He never forgets his mother! Everywhere +one is with him, hovering over him, changing +him, transforming him. More and +more deep the brute is buried; more and +more powerful grows the man. He does +not spend on himself, but saves. His bank +account shows the new Power. He is planning +ahead for that little home. And yet +he, too, at a moment’s notice, flings off his +new manhood, and is—all that she is. So +young has he become, that he feels he has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> +no past, he feels pure and good and worthy. +Such is the magic of the Enchanted Gardens.</p> + +<p>Zug understands; but he is helpless and +it is too late, anyhow. He goes his own +way.</p> + +<p>Doctor Rast understands, and gets joy +from it, being a wise man, and hence draining +good out of all situations.</p> + +<p>The mother understands, and, having satisfied +herself concerning family and salary +and prospects, is ready to die happily.</p> + +<p>All the world knows, and is reminded of +its youth, and has its delighted laugh.</p> + +<p>Then comes an ardent summer’s night, +after a roasting summer’s day. Edith and +Frank are at Coney Island. They have +wandered among the dense hot people; they +have heard blare of brass, and beat of +drum; the carousel has shrieked around; +the screaming ladies bumped the bumps; +the laughter-shrill girls shot the chutes. +Edith and Frank are tired of the noise. +They wander to the sand, they walk away +from the din.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>Then, lo, the beauty of the night! Lustrous +stars in the still heavens, ocean running +in and out gold against the flare of +Coney; breakers with soft cry thinning +on the beach. Oh, the loneliness, the heartache, +the sad music of the sea. Close they +walk, and closer. They are both filled with +sadness, unutterable, poignant yearning. +They want each other. Away world! +Away you shouting crowds! They want +each other—the soul cries, the flesh cries.</p> + +<p>They stand still and listen. How the +ocean is yearning, as if for speech! They +droop toward each other. Now enchantment +is not enough, golden air is not +enough. Each other they want. Yes, the +ripening process is brought to an issue!</p> + +<p>Very close they stand.</p> + +<p>“Edith!”</p> + +<p>“Frank!”</p> + +<p>“Edith—Edith!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Frank!”</p> + +<p>He grasps her hand, she does not withdraw +it.</p> + +<p>“I love you....” he whispers.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>“I love you.”</p> + +<p>Her arms are about his neck, his about +hers. Their lips meet ... and oh, the +heights, the heights ... ecstasy, swooning +ecstasy....</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI<br> + +<small>MR. GRUPP INTERRUPTS</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THAT next night was a hot one. The +Krolls and Mr. Grupp sat at table +in the kitchen in the late light of +day. They were drinking iced tea to wash +down the cold sliced lamb. The pitcher +clinked; knives and forks clattered; flies +buzzed about their ears or sung their swan-songs +on the sticky fly-paper; and through +the open window and door came the jarring +clamor of the city. Boys were yelling +on the street; the neighbors up and +downstairs were arguing with loud voices; +somewhere a baby began to howl; laughter +shook the air; wheel-noise; whistle-shriek.</p> + +<p>The hot spell was on. All day the toilers +had been wasted in a furnace of stone; walls +and pave breathed heat; and with the coming +of scarlet sunset, a great noise went up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> +from the released millions. The poor fat +mother was dizzy and faint, and quarreled +and complained; Edith, in a thin white +dress that made her look very girlish, was +a million miles away on the wings of +dream; the boys and Mr. Grupp, in their +shirtsleeves, damned the weather.</p> + +<p>Said Mr. Grupp:</p> + +<p>“I saw a fat woman-lady on Hester Street +melt. The boys made a sliding-pond afterward.”</p> + +<p>Marcus and Sam laughed.</p> + +<p>“She had a rubber mouth,” said Mr. +Grupp. “It was so elastic, a Grand Street +pushcart could turn around in it.”</p> + +<p>He arose from his chair and circled the +table for a lump of sugar.</p> + +<p>“What are you getting up for?” cried +Mrs. Kroll indignantly. “Such manners!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, excuse! excuse!” he moaned. +“You’re so nervous. Yes, in the old country +they call it meschugge (loony).”</p> + +<p>“Will you sit down?” cried Mrs. Kroll.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Grupp seized Edith under the +chin.</p> + +<p>“My Sveetie! Give me a kiss!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>Edith’s laughter rippled silver-clear and +sweet.</p> + +<p>“Later!” she whispered mysteriously.</p> + +<p>“<i>Will</i> you sit down?” cried the mother, +outraged.</p> + +<p>“Just one kiss!” he laughed. “See how +her nose turns up, the little Sveetie!”</p> + +<p>Edith pushed his hand away.</p> + +<p>“Oh, the women!” he sighed, “I’m glad +I’m an old batch.”</p> + +<p>“Sit down!” cried the mother.</p> + +<p>“Sit down!” the boys chorused.</p> + +<p>Mr. Grupp stole behind Marcus, crooked +his first finger against his thumb, and with +a low, “I give you a <i>schnelker</i>,” let the +first finger fly like a steel spring released. +It caught Marcus a sting on the ear. Mr. +Grupp danced up and down with glee, +while the mother and boys shouted:</p> + +<p>“Don’t you begin your <i>schnelking</i>! It’s +too hot!”</p> + +<p>Schnelking was a Grupp institution, +which he assured them he himself had introduced +in America, though, much to his +own discomfort, as he himself received the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> +greatest number. Laughingly, he returned +to his seat, the sweat trickling down his +ruddy face.</p> + +<p>“Oh, weh,” he wailed, “I’ve lost my appetite——” +and as he was about to tell +them of the juicy steak, the twenty-two eggs +and the yowsas, the boys cried:</p> + +<p>“Cut it out!”</p> + +<p>“Lost your appetite!” shrilled the +mother. “You eat like a pig.”</p> + +<p>“Now, I’m insulted,” said Mr. Grupp, +mournfully shaking his head. “Next time +I wouldn’t come here; I stay away; and +then there will be crying and howling, +‘Oh, where is Mr. Grupp, where is Mo.’ +You’ll be sorry if I don’t come!—Pardon +the pickles!”</p> + +<p>Sam handed him the pickles.</p> + +<p>“Have some more meat, Mo,” he urged.</p> + +<p>“Not for a thousand dollars,” cried Mr. +Grupp. “Never.” He shrugged his shoulders. +“But seeing it’s on the table—well——”</p> + +<p>He took a generous slice.</p> + +<p>The mother was slicing the cake.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>“Mamma,” said Sam acidly, “why do +you have cake? You know no one cares +for it.”</p> + +<p>“If you don’t like what you get here,” +cried the mother, “find some other boarding +house!”</p> + +<p>“But why do you have cake?” insisted +Sam.</p> + +<p>The mother began to tremble.</p> + +<p>“You’ll be glad yet if you can get cake——” +she began.</p> + +<p>Edith woke from her trance and spoke +sharply:</p> + +<p>“Sam!” She turned to her mother: +“Remember, dear!”</p> + +<p>Sam drummed on the table, the mother +wiped her eyes. Mr. Grupp looked tragic.</p> + +<p>But then he pulled out a cigar and offered +it to Sam.</p> + +<p>“My last,” he said.</p> + +<p>The air cleared in laughter.</p> + +<p>“That’s one of those smoke here and die +home,” growled Sam. “No, thanks.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said Mr. Grupp, and lit +up.</p> + +<p>Then he expanded. Then he blew clouds<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> +of foul smoke. Then he sang German student-songs, +with roaring choruses. Then +he arose and tramped grenadier-fashion up +and down the kitchen.</p> + +<p>Edith and her mother cleared the table +and washed the dishes at the sink; the boys +put on shirts and collars and coats, and, announcing +that they would return in the cold +gray dawning of the morning after, went +off for their night on the water. Then, at +last, Edith stole into the dark parlor, whose +ceiling was splashed with light from the +street below, and sat on the sill of the open +window, leaning out on the fire-escape.</p> + +<p>Intensely human was the scene. All the +windows opposite were open, and in the lit +rooms she saw the silhouettes of moving +women and men and children. Children +played on the fire-escapes; out of dark windows +hung shadowy forms, and the street +from end to end was black with humanity. +Boys and girls played I-spy over the gutter; +the stoops were thronged with mothers +taking the evening air; young men and +women stood before lighted shop-windows +chatting, flirting, laughing. She saw in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> +delicatessen shop opposite the busy tradesman +with his wife, the little children and +the women customers. The night was dripping +hot, the darkened heavens pulsing red +with the lights of the broadcast city; but +so much better was it than the sun-wilted +day, that people breathed free, resting, +laughing, chatting.</p> + +<p>Sweet was the scene, and so human, that +it brought the tears to Edith’s eyes. How +she loved the world at that moment. For +she loved and was loved, and it seemed to +her that all these people, too, were lovers—a +world of lovers—the young boys and +girls, the husbands and wives, the mothers +with young babies, the grandmothers and +grandfathers. Into this life she would +plunge; these people her people; their lives +her life. She wanted but the commonest, +humanest things. She had no dream of +wealth or power or pleasure. She wanted +her own home; her husband; her children. +She wanted to travel in the dust of the common +road, deep in the warmth of the human +crowd.</p> + +<p>All day she had been overbubbling with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> +laughter and tears, with happiness wild and +perfect, with blushes and shy beating of the +heart, and now her heart took on tenderness, +a great tenderness. No longer was +she contented with the first enchantment of +love; something more real, something more +of the brown earth, something rooted in the +soil she wanted. She wanted Frank; her +own home; her own table and stove.</p> + +<p>There was a light knock on the door; she +leaped up with a glad cry, and Frank came +in. Their arms went about each other, tenderly; +their lips, still tingling with that +first kiss, met again; she drew his head +closer passionately.</p> + +<p>“How are you?” he murmured. “Edith, +how are you?”</p> + +<p>“Ssh!” she warned. “Mother! I’ll light +up! Quick!”</p> + +<p>They laughed excitedly, and as Edith +whispered, “Tell her right away! Have +it over with!” he lit the gas, turning it low, +so that the shutters could remain open. +They heard the mother coming, and courage +oozed out of them; Frank felt very +young, much ashamed and very self-conscious;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> +and Edith grew pale and blushed +rosily and shyly hung her head. The +mother, who all along was but a poor sick, +woman, now seemed a veritable ogre.</p> + +<p>She toddled in, puffing.</p> + +<p>“Oh, good evening!” she said to Frank.</p> + +<p>He grasped her hand very eagerly.</p> + +<p>“I hope you are feeling well! I hope +you ain’t sick in this weather!”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t?” whispered Edith.</p> + +<p>Frank laughed strangely, and all sat +down, the mother rocking slowly in a big +rocker, and fanning herself with a Yiddish +newspaper. Only then did Edith +notice how carefully he was dressed. Poor +fellow! he felt as if he were decked for his +own funeral.</p> + +<p>The mother pounced upon the word +“sick.”</p> + +<p>“You should never be so sick as I, Mr. +Lasser. Oi! Oi! Eat I some strudel yesterday +and some ice-cream and cucumbers, +and I get such cramps in my stomach, like +I could yell. You could feel here,” she +pressed her hand on her side, “I get a lump<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> +like a piece of ice. Did you ever have gas +on the heart——”</p> + +<p>But Frank was too excited.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Kroll,” he burst out, “I want to +speak to you!”</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“I want to speak to you!”</p> + +<p>“Speak?”</p> + +<p>“Yes—I want to tell you something!”</p> + +<p>The mother looked from one to the other.</p> + +<p>“Well, young man, speak!”</p> + +<p>The air was breathless now, vague with +expectancy, hushed with crisis. Frank had +had his speech all ready, well rehearsed, +but the “young man” took the wind out of +his sails. He collapsed, and the drops +stood out on his forehead.</p> + +<p>“You know”—he stammered—“why—it’s +just——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my old college chum!”</p> + +<p>And in burst expansive Mr. Grupp. “My +old college chum! I’m so glad to see you!”</p> + +<p>He rushed over to Frank and seized his +hand. Edith frowned, Frank pushed him +off.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>“How do you do!” cried Mr. Grupp. +“It’s so long since I seen you! But I met +your uncle on Broadway yesterday.”</p> + +<p>The mother could not contain herself.</p> + +<p>“Will you go out? That man’s a nuisance! +Go out!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, how nervous we’re getting,” wailed +Mr. Grupp. “You shouldn’t get so nervous.”</p> + +<p>Edith spoke in a low, tremulous voice:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Lasser wants to speak to Mother. +Please—please go out, Mr. Grupp!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ho,” cried Mr. Grupp. “Ah, ha! +Business! God forbid I should distoib you. +I be back in a minute.”</p> + +<p>So saying, he vanished.</p> + +<p>Rude was the excitement in the air. The +mother stopped fanning; Frank shrank and +shrank until he was small enough for short +pants; Edith looked away, and gasped.</p> + +<p>“Well, young man,” said the mother, as +if she were charging an enemy.</p> + +<p>“You see,” he stammered, “it’s just like +this——”</p> + +<p>“Don’t grabble around so,” the mother +spoke frankly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>Frank stared at her; she stared at him. +That was too much for Edith, who loosed +silver bells of laughter, ran to her mother, +circled her neck, and whispered:</p> + +<p>“Mother, dear—you know—you must +know!”</p> + +<p>And Frank, laughing nervously, took up +the tale:</p> + +<p>“Why, of course, Edith and I——”</p> + +<p>In burst the inevitable Grupp, announcing +with waving hand:</p> + +<p>“The trouble is just this. The young +folks kiss each other too much, and then, +when they are married, they couldn’t kiss +for a hundred dollars. Now the right way +is this: One kiss a day, before and after. +And you could kiss all your life!”</p> + +<p>“Will you go out?” shrilled the mother. +“Did you ever see such a man?”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” he cried, in astonishment. “Business! +Business! I’ll be right back!”</p> + +<p>And vanished.</p> + +<p>“Such a man!” cried the mother.</p> + +<p>Silence followed, vast and empty silence. +Then Frank tried again:</p> + +<p>“As I was about to say——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>Suddenly the mother rose, Frank rose, +Edith rose. A radiant smile was on the +mother’s face:</p> + +<p>“I know—Frank,” she said simply, and +seized him and kissed him.</p> + +<p>He flung his arms about the good woman +and hugged her for all he was worth.</p> + +<p>Edith clapped her hands, and cried:</p> + +<p>“Mother! Mother, darling!”</p> + +<p>And then mother and daughter clasped +and kissed. Wild joy sang through the +room. Mother and daughter wept those +tears that underlie laughter, the tears of +sacred joy, and Mr. Grupp, bursting in +with:</p> + +<p>“It’s a bargain,” received the promised +kiss from his “Sweetie,” and gripping +Frank’s hand, advised fifty years engaged, +one year married.</p> + +<p>Then all sat down, and lips were loosed.</p> + +<p>“Mother,” cried Edith, “we’ve loved +each other ever so long, and ever so much! +I can’t tell you how much! Did you ever +even dream we were in love?”</p> + +<p>“Did I ever?” laughed the mother.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> +“What children! I knew it already two +months.”</p> + +<p>“And never said a word?” from Edith.</p> + +<p>“What could I say! What children!—Frank!” +she began.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mother!”</p> + +<p>Then they all laughed again, and Edith +sat on the arm of Frank’s chair and kissed +him for the word.</p> + +<p>The mother’s voice saddened:</p> + +<p>“Edy is a good girl—she is the best I +have in this world. I could die happy if +she was married to a good man.”</p> + +<p>Frank spoke very humbly:</p> + +<p>“I—I’ll try to be worthy of Edith.”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” cried Edith, “you don’t know +Frank. He’s noble and true and good——”</p> + +<p>“No, Edith,” he said, in a low voice, +“don’t say that!”</p> + +<p>So Edith kissed him and whispered of +his goodness.</p> + +<p>“Ah, Mr. Grupp,” said the mother tearfully, +“the children grow up in a day, and +you and I get old. But I am very happy.”</p> + +<p>Then she rose and took Frank by the +hand and spoke to him secretly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>“Be very good to Edy. Make her very +happy. I was not so happy myself. I +know how it is. Always be kind, and think +of her, and do little things to please her. +She is not like other girls, Frank; she +wants little—only someone should love +her, and be kind, and make a home for +her.”</p> + +<p>Frank could hardly speak for tears:</p> + +<p>“There is no girl like her in the world, +Mother. I swear I’ll be good to her!”</p> + +<p>“Good!” she murmured. “That’s right!” +and again she kissed him.</p> + +<p>“So,” she nodded to Mr. Grupp. “Come—they +want to talk!”</p> + +<p>And she and Mr. Grupp went out, and +the lovers sat down on the sofa together. +They were very serious that night. Life +was very sacred and sweet. Edith put her +head on his shoulder, and he drew her +close.</p> + +<p>“Sweetheart!” he said.</p> + +<p>A kiss had to follow that wonderful +word, and then they began speaking in low +voices:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>“Soon,” he said, “we shall have our +home, Edith—just you and I there, alone—alone +together——”</p> + +<p>“Alone together!” she echoed.</p> + +<p>They were silent, dreaming of that humble +vision—those rooms with two faces +coming and going—and then Edith:</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it strange that out of all people, +just you and I should marry each other?”</p> + +<p>“No, it had to be.”</p> + +<p>“Do you really think so, dear?”</p> + +<p>Again a wonderful word, and a kiss.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said he.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m glad! I’m glad, then! Because +I want to feel that you are just for +me—only for me.”</p> + +<p>“I am,” he murmured.</p> + +<p>Their talk began to grow practical, as it +should have, for the daily toil must be +touched and transformed by the high love.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am going to be such a good manager,” +said Edith. “I’m going to have +Mother teach me the things I don’t know. +I want to be the best housewife in the +world.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>He laughed softly:</p> + +<p>“You will be! And I’ll be so proud of +my wife!”</p> + +<p>“Your <i>wife</i>!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he murmured, “dear little wife!”</p> + +<p>She put her arms about him.</p> + +<p>“Husband!”</p> + +<p>Sweet and deep was the embrace and the +kiss.</p> + +<p>And lest we now be overwhelmed with +kisses, we must gently draw the curtain +while these two young human beings gaze +into the sunrise of their wedded life.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII<br> + +<small>THE GOLDEN-HAIRED ONE</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">FRANK was in Pittsburgh the following +Saturday night, and Pittsburgh +is a weird city. It is a narrow point +of river-ringed land, circled with mills that +flame like Inferno all night long. All day +the soft-coal smoke shrouds the streets, and +at times thickens into a dirty fog. The +buildings are soot-blackened and look old. +The stranger goes about with an umbrella, +momently expecting a storm to break. Not +all the water in the Ohio River can keep +the hands of the town clean. One dabs up +soot from the parlor-table, and clean linen +lasts an hour. Out of the mouths of the +converters lining the river below shoots up +a snow of golden flakes, and as one draws +near one hears the wild <i>klong-a-al</i>, <i>bang-bang</i>, +<i>st-st-st</i>, <i>spla</i>, <i>wow</i> of the mills as of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> +a jungle howling, and one sees half-naked +men, like imps, running in and out among +the flames. Shanties and palaces cling to +the hollows and hills of the town, side by +side.</p> + +<p>What can a full-blooded man do in such +a town on a Saturday night? There are a +few theaters, but Frank was not allured. +Besides, he was saving money. He had finished +his day’s business, and as there was +no train for the next town till the morning, +he was forced to inhabit Pittsburgh overnight. +He had written the daily letter to +Edith, and sent it by special delivery. Some +old friends had asked him to “go out with +the boys.” He had refused, much to their +amusement.</p> + +<p>So he sauntered down Fifth Avenue, +which end to end was a blaze of wild advertisements +and glaring shop-windows. +The music of the Nickel Theaters blared +out over the street; globes of copper light +flooded the pavement; a long procession of +lighted trolley-cars thumped by, up, and +down; and a black swarm of holiday-happy +people streamed about him. Newsboys<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> +shouted; young girls laughed. For the +week’s work was ended, for all save the +toilers in the mills—those souls being consumed +in the fires of Pittsburgh—and a +glad irresponsible freedom leaped from +heart to heart, from eye to eye, from lip to +lip. A wine of splendor drenched the cool +air; an electricity of romance was abroad.</p> + +<p>Frank was listless; Frank was lonely. +The evening stretched before him interminably +long. What should he do? Girls +laughed in his eyes—sweet faces, daring +faces, flashing faces. He grew restless, feverish. +Old voices began to call him; the +old wildness swept round him. He could +not help thinking back to the wild-oats +days, when his Saturday nights held an intoxication +long since put by. It was the +wine of life that was offered to his lips +again; the wine that courses through the +veins like fire, and sweeps the brain with +a glad delirium. More and more restless +he trudged along, trying to keep himself +in hand, trying to deafen his ears to the +siren voices of the past.</p> + +<p>But the Past keeps a strange grip on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> +soul. Bury the old Frank ever so deep, +he is still there. Those brain-cells wrought +by the wild young years are still there in +the gray convolutions. We are but prisoners +of the Past that bore us. And so +this night Frank was beginning to pay for +his youth.</p> + +<p>He was startled to feel these old desires, +these old memories swarming over +him like roused hornets. And then suddenly +he remembered the “golden-haired +one”—over the river, in Alleghany, Madge +Madden, the strapping Valkyrie-woman, +blue-eyed and golden-haired. Madge was +a country girl, full-blooded, the health of +the hills and the sun and wind not yet worn +away. She had not the flaccid appearance +of vice; rather the flaunting bold strength +of a daring adventuress. She was a strong +goddess of the streets. How well Frank remembered +her! How she had enchanted +him in the old days!</p> + +<p>And now strolling along he remembered +her glad bold voice; he felt her touch; he +saw vividly her face. The young girls +smiled on him, recalling the fact that he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> +was handsome. His blood began to beat +faster; his pulses thronged with life; he +wanted adventure, enjoyment. Edith began +to fade far; New York was a long distance +to the East; a man lives but once. +Why not enjoy <i>this</i> night, too? This night +is as real as any other, and it is fast slipping +through the fingers.</p> + +<p>The old Frank was in the ascendant. +His eyes began to sparkle, he smiled, he +hurried. By instinct, if not by forethought, +he began to wander across dark vacant +streets to the river. He paid the penny-toll +at the bridge and began walking across. +Below him ran the smooth river-tide with +here and there a suspended lantern casting +its gold or red or green reflection like a +lance along the swaying waters. A soft +cool air blew sweet over his face, with dark +hint of pungent coal smoke. Overhead, +here and there, was a star. Behind him +glowed the towering city; before him were +the low dim lights and the strings of street-lamps +of Alleghany. A madness seized +him; lusty sang his blood. And so he penetrated +those streets, trudging by lonely one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> +and two-story brick houses, and passing now +and then some shattered woman who +emerged from the shadows.</p> + +<p>Those months which had so changed him +fell off, dropping into far abysses. And +yet, but a few days before he had kissed +Edith good-by, and they had shed tears together! +And yet this very afternoon he +had written her a tender letter, full of +heartache and loneliness and passionate +vows and sweet kisses—which letter on the +morrow Edith would cry over, and press to +her lips and her heart. But far away was +the sweet, true little woman—quite vanished. +Such is the strength of the buried +Past.</p> + +<p>Up a little hilly street he wandered, entered +a dark empty hall, and knocked on a +door. He felt laughably excited and daring. +He even felt that he had regained +his true manhood, that now he was free and +bold and brave.</p> + +<p>The door flung open. In a dim glow +stood the golden-haired one, large as life.</p> + +<p>“Who is it?” the voice held harsh, strong +music.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>“Me, Madge!”</p> + +<p>“<i>You?</i>” she cried, delighted. “Well, I’ll +be hanged! Hello!” She seized his hand +and pulled him into the room. “Frank, but +I’m glad to see you! Show your face. Let +me get a look.”</p> + +<p>She had a little asbestos gas-grate rippling +low flame under the mantel. No +other light was in the room, and the soft +blue glow spread out and up, leaving the +ceiling and walls in shadow. The air was +just cool enough for a bit of fire.</p> + +<p>“Well,” he laughed, “I’m here!”</p> + +<p>She drew him before the fire, looked him +over, and plunged him in a low Morris +chair. He settled back comfortably. She +took a deep chair opposite, and offered him +cigarettes.</p> + +<p>They both lit up and puffed idly.</p> + +<p>In the dancing blue light he noticed her +face, the wild golden hair, the blue eyes +and red lips, the rosy cheeks. A little voice +in him cried out that there was coarseness +and vulgarity in the face, but he hushed +it, and gave himself over to enjoyment.</p> + +<p>The strong music of her voice rose again:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>“You’re a nice one! I’ve been as lonely +as a cat!”</p> + +<p>“Miss me, Madge?”</p> + +<p>She spoke musingly:</p> + +<p>“Every Saturday night I thought it was +you coming. I had everything ready. +Look.”</p> + +<p>He looked. On a small table at his side +was a bottle of whiskey and a siphon of +vichy and two glasses.</p> + +<p>“Well!” he cried, his pride roused, +“you’re a dandy.”</p> + +<p>Her voice was almost sad:</p> + +<p>“I’ll never forget <i>you</i> Frank.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, why not?” he asked lightly.</p> + +<p>“Hard to say,” she sighed. “I’ve known +many men—but a woman only takes to +one.”</p> + +<p>He felt a thrill at the words. Suddenly +she laughed gaily, throwing back her head:</p> + +<p>“But away with the mopes! This won’t +do, my handsome! Fill the glass, and let’s +forget!”</p> + +<p>He leaned and poured whiskey and +sprayed vichy, and each held up a glass.</p> + +<p>“Here’s—us,” she cried.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>“Us!”</p> + +<p>Glasses clinked, and they drank. She +put hers on the broad arm of her chair, and +leaned over and took his hand and looked +in his face.</p> + +<p>“Frank, you didn’t go back on me?”</p> + +<p>He smiled and shook his head no.</p> + +<p>“You’re sure, Frank?”</p> + +<p>“Sure,” he muttered.</p> + +<p>“You know,” she mused, “they all go, +sooner or later, one by one.” She spoke +in an intimate rich voice: “You didn’t +come here to say good-by?”</p> + +<p>“To say hello, Madge,” he murmured.</p> + +<p>“Then why,” she asked low, “did you +keep me waiting all this time?”</p> + +<p>“I was busy.”</p> + +<p>“Busy! No, it wasn’t that! I know what +it was!”</p> + +<p>He laughed softly and she patted his +hand.</p> + +<p>“It’s some other woman, Frank,” she said +slowly, “it’s someone else. I know you. +Will-o’-the-wisp!”</p> + +<p>He lied to her face:</p> + +<p>“No, no!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>Mad was his blood that moment; near +were her lips, her eyes, her hair.</p> + +<p>“Madge!” he whispered.</p> + +<p>She laughed softly:</p> + +<p>“I believe the boy still cares.”</p> + +<p>She sat back, still laughing, and Frank +started to fill his glass again.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Madge sat up.</p> + +<p>“Hello,” she cried sharply.</p> + +<p>Frank turned toward her.</p> + +<p>She got to her feet, seized his hands, and +pulled him up.</p> + +<p>“You’ve changed,” she said sharply, +“you’re different. Where’s your horseshoe +pin, your high collar, your—Frank! You’re +not a sport any more. You’ve toned down. +I see it. Don’t say you haven’t. What’s +happened?”</p> + +<p>“What of it?” he stammered.</p> + +<p>“Yes, you have, you have!” She drew +him nearer. “Look in my eyes, Frank, look +me straight in the eyes.”</p> + +<p>He tried to meet her eyes; he was confused +and annoyed.</p> + +<p>She spoke in a low voice:</p> + +<p>“It <i>is</i> some other woman.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>He looked down. She breathed closer.</p> + +<p>“Are you going to be married?”</p> + +<p>He said nothing.</p> + +<p>“Are you going to be married?”</p> + +<p>He said angrily:</p> + +<p>“What if I am?”</p> + +<p>She spoke very low:</p> + +<p>“You lied to my face! You lied to my +face!”</p> + +<p>He could not meet her eyes. Suddenly +he felt a terrific sweep of shame pass +through him; shame and guilt. Why was +he here? He had a sharp vision of Edith, +reproach on her face. Why had he come? +All passion went out of him; he was angry +with Madge, and hated himself.</p> + +<p>“Let me alone,” he blustered.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing?”</p> + +<p>“I’m going—good-by!”</p> + +<p>She seized his arm:</p> + +<p>“No—forgive me—I didn’t mean it—tell +me about her, Frank. Tell me!”</p> + +<p>He pushed her hand away and started.</p> + +<p>“Frank!”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to leave you. I had no business +to come!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>“But now you’re here. You must stay—you +must!”</p> + +<p>“I tell you I’m going.”</p> + +<p>“You’re not!” Again she seized his arm. +“You’re going to stay! You must!”</p> + +<p>“Will you let me alone?” He threw off +her arm, and reached for his hat.</p> + +<p>“Frank! Frank!”</p> + +<p>“Good-by!” he cried.</p> + +<p>“But just to-night! I didn’t mean it. +Can’t you forgive me? For old sakes’ +sake?”</p> + +<p>“I’m going back to her.”</p> + +<p>She laughed wildly:</p> + +<p>“Then go. But I’ll have my last kiss!”</p> + +<p>She flung her arms about his neck and +kissed him. He turned madly, he drew her +close. But she pushed him away, wildly +laughing.</p> + +<p>“Go! Go!”</p> + +<p>She opened the door, and seized his arm:</p> + +<p>“Go, I tell you!”</p> + +<p>He passed through and she slammed the +door. Then he reeled out like a drunkard +in the cool night air, and knew himself as +he was.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII<br> + +<small>TWILIGHT</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">A SWEET rain freshened the summer +afternoon, drawing a good smell +from the baking pavements. Our +wild-rose, who perhaps was changing into +a red, red rose of the gardens, she was so +womanly grave and wise, stole forth to see +Nell Rast. She did not use her umbrella, +for the rain was sweet on her face, and she +had on old clothes. And so she glided +along, among the playing children and the +serious idle old men and women, fresh as +the rain, rich as the summer.</p> + +<p>She had given up her job; there was +much sewing to be done—linen to be initialed, +and a modest trousseau to be +wrought. She had said good-by to the boss, +who, spite of his grim ways, showed his +sorrow in a little check. She had said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> +good-by to Jonas Zug, and told him so +cordially that he must call after she was +married, that he could not speak. And +now the long, long summer days were hers—what +dreams, what schemes, what happy +business! Her mother took on new life as +they discussed stitches and soups and furniture. +And Nell, meeting her marketing, +basket on arm, had told her to call. Nell +was very sensitive about people. Almost +intuitively she knew them. She could not +let this innocent girl go ignorantly into +marriage.</p> + +<p>And so Edith glided into the cool, dark +hallway and knocked at the kitchen. Nell +opened the door.</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s Edith,” she laughed, and +kissed her. “It’s sweet of you to come!”</p> + +<p>Edith laughed softly, and stepped in. +Davy was tagging at his mother’s skirt.</p> + +<p>“Mother! Mother! Mother!”</p> + +<p>“Well, son?”</p> + +<p>“Where <i>are</i> you?”</p> + +<p>Nell and Edith looked at each other +laughingly. The woman and the girl made +a pretty contrast—Nell with her large<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> +brown eyes, her hair parted in center and +soft over her forehead, her olive-tinted +cheeks, and Edith with lighted blue eyes +and light hair and wild-rose cheeks—the +one, blooming in womanhood, yet graceful +and exquisite; the other, just brimming +over girlhood, wild in her beauty. Yet they +were both of a size.</p> + +<p>“You little boy,” cried the mother, and +plucked him up and pushed his face close +to Edith’s. “Give the pretty lady a kiss! +Give Aunt Edith a kiss!”</p> + +<p>But Davy only stared, and pushed off.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you love me?” asked Edith.</p> + +<p>“No,” he cried, “I <i>can’t</i> love you; I only +like you.”</p> + +<p>The distinction was a fine one, and Edith +laughed.</p> + +<p>“Whom do you love?”</p> + +<p>“I love Mother! Mother,” he cried, +“where <i>are</i> you?”</p> + +<p>“Here, son!”</p> + +<p>“Then, please, dear darling Mother +dear, I want to be a little helper!”</p> + +<p>And he began pulling roguishly at her +hair.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>“Stop!” she cried. “Shall I put ink on +your hand?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you do that!” he warned her.</p> + +<p>“Naughty boy! Now you can’t be a +helper!”</p> + +<p>She set him on the floor, and he drew +down the corners of his lips like a bow +pulled round, and spoke slowly with stifled +sobs:</p> + +<p>“I didn’t mean it! I was only teasing +you! I couldn’t help it!”</p> + +<p>“Surely?”</p> + +<p>“Please, please, dear Mother dear!”</p> + +<p>“And you’ll never do it again?”</p> + +<p>“No!”</p> + +<p>So Nell took from the table a bowl of +cake dough still in the pasty state and put it +on a chair, and the young man danced with +delight, took a big metal spoon and worked +vigorously, like the laborer he was.</p> + +<p>Nell put two kitchen chairs side by side.</p> + +<p>“I want you near me,” she said, in a low +voice.</p> + +<p>Edith took off her hat and sat down.</p> + +<p>“You’re sure I’m not keeping you from +your work?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>Nell only laughed and sat next her and +took her two hands.</p> + +<p>“Dear,” she said sweetly, “I think you’re +getting more beautiful every day.”</p> + +<p>The wild-rose blushed.</p> + +<p>“When is he coming back?”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow.”</p> + +<p>Nell put an arm about the girl.</p> + +<p>“Edith,” she said, “I want you to be very +happy in your marriage. I have been in +mine.”</p> + +<p>“I know,” murmured Edith.</p> + +<p>“We have had many troubles,” her voice +shook a little. “Davy has had his sicknesses. +Sometimes the work seems like +drudgery. Sometimes I get a bit heart-sick +because I don’t see enough of my husband. +You see he is a very busy man. Just now, +for instance, there’s a roomful of patients in +front and he won’t be finished till supper +time. And then,” her voice lowered, +“we’ve had money-troubles. Marriage isn’t +easy, dear, even when there’s love. There +are so many disappointments, so many +ruined hopes, so much wasted strength and +time. And one has to make allowances.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>She hesitated a moment.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think the Doctor a splendid +man?”</p> + +<p>“He’s perfect,” whispered the wild-rose.</p> + +<p>Nell laughed softly.</p> + +<p>“No, dear, not perfect. Splendid, but +very human. I want to tell you something, +Edith; I want to make one thing clear to +avoid a mistake on your part.”</p> + +<p>“What is that?”</p> + +<p>“No two human beings,” said Nell, “no +matter how good they are and how much +they love, can live together without now +and then getting tired of each other or jarring +on one another.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but it’s different——” Edith began.</p> + +<p>“No, it isn’t,” laughed Nell. “Don’t believe +me now, but when the time comes, +you will remember and be wise. That is +the time for making allowances, for making +sacrifices.”</p> + +<p>The wild-rose didn’t believe a word.</p> + +<p>“And then,” Nell went on, “remember, +too, that love changes. Everything +changes. We change and our lives and our +passions change. The enchantment that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> +comes before marriage fades afterward; +fades, vanishes, to give way for something +deeper, more durable, more sacred. There +will even come a time when you will wonder +if you love your husband—no, don’t +stop me—and then you will find that it is +but the pain of growth. A better love is +taking its place.”</p> + +<p>The wild-rose protested that never in +her life would she cease for a moment to +love her husband.</p> + +<p>At this juncture groans arose from the +son of the family.</p> + +<p>“Oh! Oh!” he groaned.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter?” cried Nell.</p> + +<p>“I’m putting pepper and salt in!”</p> + +<p>“Pepper and salt?” Nell arose in horror. +“What have <i>you</i> been doing?”</p> + +<p>She strode over to a scene of ruin.</p> + +<p>“Edith,” she exclaimed, and then shook +with wild laughter. “Look at this! The +rogue’s taken his father’s tobacco-can and +sprinkled the cake! You scamp! You +rogue!”</p> + +<p>She seized the young man by the arm, +and again he made a mouth:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>“I’m only putting pepper and salt in!”</p> + +<p>“You’ve ruined my nice cake, you +scamp!”</p> + +<p>Edith doubled up with laughter. There +was nothing to be done, so his lordship had +his way, and mixed in what ingredients he +could find, finally sweeping bread crumbs +from the table and making neat designs on +the paste.</p> + +<p>Then Nell sat down again and went on, +gently and simply as any mother. She +spoke of the need of a woman keeping +young—not by devices of hair and dress so +much—but by extending her life beyond +her home.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be shut in four walls; don’t narrow +down to three rooms and a street; get +out; get into other activities; see people; +study, read, go to theater—anything. And +keep pace with your husband. Don’t let +him grow away from you. Know his +work; his ambition. Understand and +help.”</p> + +<p>She tried to impress on Edith the need +of growth; the need of an open mind and +heart; a receptivity to the unfamiliar; a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> +courage in making experiments in life, in +testing out new theories by actual living. +And then by slow degrees their talk drifted +into the deepest theme of life; the theme +that is blood and breath of woman’s existence—creation.</p> + +<p>Edith grew breathless. Now was she +stirred to the very soul. Now was her thirst +for knowledge to be quenched, her darkness +irradiated with light. Nell put it very +simply—how children are born—but the +facts went crashing through the girl’s ignorance +like gusts of lightning.</p> + +<p>“You see,” said Nell, “mothers don’t tell +their daughters, and the young girls go into +the greatest and most vital things of their +life without knowing, without knowing. I +want you to know.”</p> + +<p>Edith clung to her; she felt the burden +of a new responsibility; she felt as if there +were to be put in her hands a godlike +power; the power of creating new life on +the earth; that the very strength of the suns +and the might of God would pass through +her.</p> + +<p>And then Nell went on to speak of men,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> +and the perils of marriage. She spoke of +the double-standard, under which men +freely go with women before marriage, and +girls remain innocent.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” cried Edith, staring with large +eyes, “but not all men. Not all!”</p> + +<p>“Most of them,” said Nell sadly.</p> + +<p>“It can’t be,” cried Edith. And suddenly +she remembered Zug’s words, and +grew very pale.</p> + +<p>Darkness was beginning to spread up on +her horizon. Better to remain ignorant +and happy!</p> + +<p>Nell saw the look in her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Dear,” she cried, “don’t feel that way +about it. It’s no dishonor for a boy to go +wrong to-day—really it isn’t. They, too, +are ignorant. They, too, must be taught. +But I had to tell you on account of the +dangers. Those dangers can be avoided—a +simple matter——”</p> + +<p>But she got no further that day. Just +then the Doctor came in, in his white office +coat, and the two jumped up like guilty +children.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>“H’m,” growled the Doctor, “conspiracy?”</p> + +<p>Nell said laughingly:</p> + +<p>“It’s Edith, dear!”</p> + +<p>He shook her hand listlessly.</p> + +<p>“Goodness,” he muttered, stretching his +arms out, “I’m sick and tired! Nell, I +thought that bunch of aches and pains +would never quit.”</p> + +<p>“My poor, poor man!” murmured Nell.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” cried the Doctor, “I’m sick of it +all! Drat it!”</p> + +<p>The wild-rose was shocked, and the Doctor +laughed.</p> + +<p>“Well, Edith,” he muttered, trying hard +to be less tired, “where’s the man?”</p> + +<p>“Away.”</p> + +<p>But the Doctor was too tired; he sat +down on a chair.</p> + +<p>“I’d better go,” said Edith.</p> + +<p>“But you must come in a day or two,” +cried Nell eagerly, “remember, there is +something I <i>must</i> tell you!”</p> + +<p>They kissed each other; Davy submitted +a cheek; the Doctor nodded his head, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> +the wild-rose wandered home through the +late day.</p> + +<p>A tumult of new passions possessed her +all the evening and deep into the night. +Facts are aggressive. They leap up at us, +sting us, batter a breach, drive into the +mind, tear old beliefs to tatters, root themselves, +throw up defenses, and so become +part of our lives. Edith felt her old life +slipping away from her; the vision of the +world changed; she was no more what she +had been. She could not be a young girl +any more. She went through the birth-throes +of womanhood.</p> + +<p>She began to see that marriage is not the +end of life, but rather the beginning of a +new life; that she was called upon to shoulder +vast responsibilities; that it was more +than a matter of love; it was life-work. She +must prepare herself for pain and stubborn +struggle and obstinate difficulties. She sat +that night looking into the vastness of life. +Torn away was the enchantment. This was +serious business; this was life and death.</p> + +<p>And yet far within her there was a +strange sense of joy—the feeling that she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> +was no longer to be shut out from the common +experiences of mankind. It is no +blessing to be ignorantly innocent; such a +state is shallow; the very terror of the deep +crises of life have a wonder in them no real +man or woman would forego. Each wants +life to the full, the bitter and the sweet, +the fire as well as the light.</p> + +<p>Many such thoughts surged dimly or +clearly through her mind, and mixed with +them were strange new passions concerning +the man who was to be her husband. +The intimate relationships to be frightened +her; and now, in the light of her new +knowledge he loomed a different man. She +thought she had known him; she had not. +He was a power that would work on all +her life; he was a stranger. Nell had +spoken of dangers to be avoided. What +danger could there be? How could Frank +be dangerous?</p> + +<p>Common sense came back and laughed at +the notion. Dear Frank! Did he not truly +love her; did she not love him? That was +enough. Where then was the danger? +Frank was true as steel; and how he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> +changed. Ever was he getting gentler and +nobler—more attentive, more kind and loving. +He would do anything for her. Such +a man dangerous?</p> + +<p>And then the last few months came up +again, the lightning bolt that spring night +in the Playground Park; the golden eighty +days; the first kiss in the sound of the sea; +the sweet tenderness; his letters. Instinct +told her that all was well.</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless,” said the wise little wild-rose, +“he and I shall have a candid talk!”</p> + +<p>Blessings on the wild-rose!</p> + +<p>She was beginning to breathe happily +again, and snuggle up in her soft night-gown, +inviting sleep, when a strange noise +stirred her. It was her mother gasping.</p> + +<p>“Mother!” she cried, sitting up, “Mother!”</p> + +<p>The cry rang sharp from her heart. Her +mother tried to rise, fell back, gasped, +choked.</p> + +<p>“Mother!” cried Edith frantically, +clutching her hand.</p> + +<p>Then, at last her mother spoke:</p> + +<p>“All right! all right! Get the Doctor!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>“Oh, but are you sure you’re all right!”</p> + +<p>“Ya, ya—run and get the Doctor!”</p> + +<p>Edith bolted from bed, groped out and +out, trembling with fear, found a match, +struck it and lit a small light. She leaned +over her mother, and saw her purple face, +the rolling eyes. She felt as if the sight +would drive her crazy. She was utterly +alone; so helpless. Then she flung open +the door to the adjoining room, and cried:</p> + +<p>“Sam! Marc! Sam!”</p> + +<p>But the room was empty. The brothers +were still out.</p> + +<p>“What shall I do?” she muttered. +“What shall I do?”</p> + +<p>And, at once, her mind cleared; she was +calm and self-possessed, though blackness +showered upon her. She dressed quickly, +took a last look at her mother, stole down +the black halls, and then went winging her +way through the deserted streets.</p> + +<p>Fear speeded her. She brought up panting +at Doctor Rast’s and rang the night-bell. +After what seemed a long time, the Doctor +opened the door on a crack.</p> + +<p>“Yes?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>“Come over to my mother—quick!”</p> + +<p>“I will!”</p> + +<p>The door shut.</p> + +<p>She sped back; she climbed the black +steps; she burst into the room. Her +mother was still a haggard sight, but +breathed easily.</p> + +<p>“Mother! Tell me!” cried Edith.</p> + +<p>“I’m—I’m a little better! Thank you!”</p> + +<p>Edith sank on her knees, head in the +covers.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mother,” she sobbed, “Mother! +Mother!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor found her still sobbing.</p> + +<p>Gently he lifted her, and helped her to +a chair, and then bent above the patient.</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Kroll!”</p> + +<p>The mother opened her eyes, and then +smiled wonderfully.</p> + +<p>“Ach, Doctor! Good Doctor!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes!—Pain?”</p> + +<p>She sighed:</p> + +<p>“It does not matter now!”</p> + +<p>He examined her, and then turned and +looked at Edith. Poor wild-rose! Blackness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span> +shot his heart, and pity, and love. He +touched Edith on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Edith!”</p> + +<p>She arose, sobbing.</p> + +<p>“Come,” he whispered tenderly, “come +in the parlor.”</p> + +<p>She groped her way blindly, her hand +feeling out. The dim light of the room followed +them. Silence, the infinite silence +of a sleeping city lay about them; deepened +now by the strange hush of sickness. +The Doctor stood over the girl, and waited.</p> + +<p>Then she murmured, on a strangling sob:</p> + +<p>“Yes—Doctor.”</p> + +<p>“Edith,” he spoke very gently, very +slowly, “I am going to trust to you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes——”</p> + +<p>“I am going to ask courage and help. I +need you to-night.”</p> + +<p>He waited.</p> + +<p>“Yes——” she cried.</p> + +<p>All his heart went out to her; she was so +young for sorrow. He spoke in a voice pure +with pity:</p> + +<p>“Edith, your mother is very, very sick.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>“Oh, I know”—a wild sob escaped—“don’t +you think I know?”</p> + +<p>She sobbed bitterly. And what could he +do but help her to a chair and wish she +were his own child that he might enfold +her and comfort her?</p> + +<p>“Listen,” he said hurriedly, “I am going +to send a nurse in the morning. We will +take good care of the Mother, Edith—we +will do all we can for her—we will make +the pain little as possible. Edith, to-night +you must nurse her—to-night you must go +on being brave and strong. You were brave +to come for me. Be brave still. Don’t cry, +Edith.”</p> + +<p>Her sobbing slowed and died. She +wiped her face, rubbed her eyes. She arose +full of gentleness and thoughtfulness.</p> + +<p>“That’s over,” she said. “I’ll do anything, +Doctor Rast.”</p> + +<p>He pressed her tear-wet hand with both +of his.</p> + +<p>“Fight the good fight!” he said, and +quickly he gave her directions.</p> + +<p>While they were talking, there was a +noise at the kitchen door.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>“My brothers!” said Edith. “Quick—they +must be quiet!”</p> + +<p>She hurried into the dark kitchen, followed +by the Doctor. The sleeping-room +light fell dimly, and in that light the brothers +stood bewildered.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter, Sis? Mutter?”</p> + +<p>“Ssh!” she said, “Mother’s very, very +sick.”</p> + +<p>The brothers stood stupid and staring.</p> + +<p>Doctor Rast spoke quietly:</p> + +<p>“We will get a nurse for her in the morning, +and Edith will take care of her to-night. +One of you come for me if anything +happens. And be very quiet. She +must not be disturbed.”</p> + +<p>Sam spoke roughly:</p> + +<p>“I could stay with Mother, Sis. You get +some sleep.”</p> + +<p>Strange were the words on his lips.</p> + +<p>Edith spoke gently:</p> + +<p>“No, Sam. You and Marc get your rest. +You must work to-morrow, and I can sleep +in the morning.”</p> + +<p>Marc tried his best, too.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>“If you want anything, Sis, why—call on +me.”</p> + +<p>A great crisis faced the three and drew +them closer together. The Doctor spoke a +last word of courage and went. The brothers +tiptoed to their room, and went to bed +in silence. Edith sat by her mother.</p> + +<p>Long was the night. Time and again +she glanced at her mother’s face, and +though she had never had a God she created +one this night, and prayed to Him for +her mother’s life. No answer came through +the still air. Earth beneath her rolled +through the empty star-surrounded heavens, +bearing its precious cargo of life. Out +of the earth’s side new life emerged, old +life vanished, an ebb and flow of the vital +tides. In how many other rooms of the +planet sprang the new cry of babes and the +last cry of the dying. Swift indeed was +the unfolding of this young girl, through +first love, through deeper knowledge, and +now through tragedy. Life deepened about +her this night, fraught with a reality never +before suspected.</p> + +<p>And as she gazed in the old face, its red<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> +and yellow engulfed eyes, its lines chiseled +by the struggles and the joys and the dreams +of years, it seemed to her as if she read there +the book of her mother’s life. How clearly +was love and pain written there! And this +was her own mother!</p> + +<p>Then, like the cut of a knife in her +heart, for the first time she realized a stupendous +fact. She could hardly breathe +for the wonder and terror of it. She—she +herself had once lain curled under this +woman’s heart. She was flesh of this flesh, +bone of this bone, soul of this soul. And +after she emerged in the world, a separate +body, what if she were still in the mother—in +her heart, in her soul? All these long +years enfolded and engulfed in mother-love! +How those worn hands had wrought +for her, those lips spoken for her, that soul +fought and labored and endured for her! +Oh, so close she was to her mother! Closer, +closer than flesh of flesh. Terrible and +miraculous was the tie. Now she knew +what “Mother” meant.</p> + +<p>And now if her mother should be swept +away, sucked back by the earth, torn and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> +sundered would be this miraculous tie. +She, Edith, would be alone, alone in this +world. What world? Even the Earth that +was Mother of all life. Earth—Mother? +Did earth enfold and engulf us with love, +too? Were we flesh of her flesh, spirit of +her spirit? Edith felt a new wonder fill +her. She was indeed finding God this +night. She looked about the room with a +curious interest; she listened to the night +with an inner ear, and it seemed as if in +these walls, these streets, this air something +lived, something real and powerful and +wonderful. Peace stole in her, deep peace, +and the great love, the love that swallows +in its vastness the eddying dust of our little +human loves, filled her. Her heart +opened—opened out to the invisible—and +she was transfigured with an ineffable +glory....</p> + +<p>Slow went the hours, and though she +arose to her mother’s call, and fetched and +helped and nursed, she moved through tranquility; +she stirred with power. It was the +unfolding of the deepest within her. And +how deep are we within! How deeper<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> +than thought can reach! Power beneath +power, love beneath love.</p> + +<p>Morning came; timid gray light trembling; +chirp of sparrows; rattle of milk-wagon; +first stir of feet on the still pavement; +light and more light; and all the +world of people woke; talked, ate, went +forth, and the great city thundered with +labor and action.</p> + +<p>The brothers made their low-voiced inquiries; +stood silent at the foot of the mother’s +bed, and took her gentle good morning, +and went out choking. The nurse came at +eight, a quiet, neat young woman with +glasses, who took charge with sweet cheer.</p> + +<p>“You run right along,” she hustled Edith +out. “I don’t want any kids around. Curl +up and go to sleep!”</p> + +<p>Edith smiled:</p> + +<p>“But Mother may need me, Miss Roth.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense and fiddlesticks! I’ll teach +you a thing or two! Go right to sleep, and +don’t bother me!”</p> + +<p>Edith curled up on the parlor-sofa, and +suddenly the nurse tucked her up in a +blanket and kissed her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>When she awoke it was afternoon; warm, +shining, drowsy. Miss Roth was rocking +to and fro. Edith sat up and stared at her.</p> + +<p>“Well, child,” cried the nurse, “am I as +ugly as all that? The nerve of you!”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” cried Edith, “I didn’t know.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t know!” echoed the nurse. “I +like that! Well, take a good look.”</p> + +<p>Edith laughed softly, and arose.</p> + +<p>“But Mother——” she began.</p> + +<p>“Your mother’s all right! You just run +along and take a bite! Quick!”</p> + +<p>“I’m not hungry——”</p> + +<p>“What! Are you crossing me? Don’t +you say another word, but into the kitchen +with you!”</p> + +<p>Miss Roth arose, eyes blazing through +her glasses.</p> + +<p>“Out with you, quick! I’ll teach these +children!”</p> + +<p>Edith laughed, and went out by the hall +to the kitchen. She even tried to eat, +though she wanted nothing. Then came a +knock on the door, a knock that sped a wonderful +gladness through her. She leaped +up, flung the door wide.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>“Oh, Frank!” she cried out; “Frank—sweetheart!”</p> + +<p>She girdled him with her arms, clung to +him, clung to him. At last! The man! +The strength! He stood silent, struggling +with shame and remorse. She drew back in +wild surprise, and saw his white face.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she cried, “you’ve heard!”</p> + +<p>“Heard?” he muttered, “heard what?”</p> + +<p>“About Mother!”</p> + +<p>His voice was queer:</p> + +<p>“Your mother?”</p> + +<p>“How sick she is!”</p> + +<p>“No,” he stammered, “she’s—sick?”</p> + +<p>“We have a nurse—she’s very, very +sick——”</p> + +<p>His lips parted; he stared at her.</p> + +<p>“So sick?”</p> + +<p>He gave a groan:</p> + +<p>“Edith! Edith! Edith!”</p> + +<p>Then he clasped her to his heart, and +they clung to one another.</p> + +<p>“Come,” she said sadly, for the moment +grew sweet to her, “come and sit down and +talk with me.”</p> + +<p>They sat together at the table.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>“It’s so good to have you here,” she said +gravely. “I just need you, dear.”</p> + +<p>He patted her hand and glanced at the +wild-rose face. It seemed to him that she +had changed since he left. He felt younger +than she. She seemed so wise and womanly.</p> + +<p>“It’s so strange,” she went on, “everything’s +so strange. But I’ve made up my +mind to be wise and brave, and not make a +nuisance of myself.”</p> + +<p>Her voice deepened; her eyes filled.</p> + +<p>“I never knew I loved my mother so.”</p> + +<p>He glanced down; and then her voice +came poignantly sad:</p> + +<p>“It’s never been very easy for her, Frank. +And now——”</p> + +<p>There was a deep silence.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she said, from her heart of hearts, +“I’m so glad you’re here, dear.”</p> + +<p>He murmured that he, too, was glad. +Again there was a deep silence.</p> + +<p>“Frank.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t we talk a little? I feel things so +deeply to-day. I want to know you better.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> +I want to know my husband. We mustn’t +hide anything from each other. We must +be candid, dear.”</p> + +<p>She was speaking more like a mother +than a wife. He was puzzled and disturbed +and felt guilty.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Edith.”</p> + +<p>“May I say things?”</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>“Anything I want?”</p> + +<p>“Sure—anything.”</p> + +<p>“Then listen.”</p> + +<p>She spoke very intimately, very sweetly:</p> + +<p>“I’ve had a good talk with Mrs. Rast. +She told me about marriage——” then the +wild-rose hesitated and was confused; but +she tried to go on, so she looked away and +spoke in a low voice: “about how babies +are born....”</p> + +<p>Frank was startled.</p> + +<p>“Yes....”</p> + +<p>“And other things,” Edith went on, still +looking away, “about men ... about +the double-standard....”</p> + +<p>His voice was very queer.</p> + +<p>“Double-standard?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>“Yes ... men,” her cheeks burned, +“going around before they are married....” +There was a pause.... +“She said most men did....”</p> + +<p>The golden-haired one arose before him, +and his face flushed. He was shocked and +angry.</p> + +<p>“And the dangers....” Edith went +on.</p> + +<p>He withdrew his hands. Edith turned +on him.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Frank,” she cried, “is it true? Is +it true?”</p> + +<p>He arose from the table and spoke in a +blaze of anger.</p> + +<p>“Never speak of this again! It ain’t a +subject for you! What business has that +woman...? I tell you women and +men are different! Don’t you ever again +speak of this.”</p> + +<p>She, too, arose, a frightful pain in her +heart. She had offered him her dearest +confidence; she had offered him her inmost +soul: and he had roughly spurned the +offer. She had sought bravely for a true +marriage of mind and heart, and he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> +shrunk back. This was indeed a new +Frank before her.</p> + +<p>She spoke in a low voice:</p> + +<p>“You had better go, Frank.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he cried, “I’d better go!”</p> + +<p>He seized up his hat, put it on, and went +out. She watched the door close.</p> + +<p>Then she sat down in a stupor, her eyes +staring, her face pale. A few moments before +she would have forgiven him anything—no +matter what his past was. But now—well, +that was over with! He had come +into her life, and gone out of it. It must +be for the best. She felt frozen, stupid, +inert. The blow had stopped her heart.</p> + +<p>And then the door opened and Miss Roth +came in.</p> + +<p>“Your mother wants to speak to you.”</p> + +<p>“My mother? Oh, my mother! Miss +Roth!”</p> + +<p>She arose, groping out with her hands, +and Miss Roth drew her to her heart.</p> + +<p>Edith laughed strangely.</p> + +<p>“I almost forgot about my mother!”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX<br> + +<small>NIGHT</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">“MY Edy,” murmured the mother, +stroking the girl’s hand.</p> + +<p>But Edith’s frozen heart could +not feel. She had passed beyond all emotion, +like one in a trance. She whispered:</p> + +<p>“Mother!”</p> + +<p>“I—I could want to talk to you,” the +mother cried softly, “I got much to say +... but I can’t, Edy.”</p> + +<p>“I understand.”</p> + +<p>The mother’s voice came broken and +raspy.</p> + +<p>“You was always my baby.... I remember +the night you was born, Edy ... +when your father, <i>selig</i>, saw it was a little +girl, he cried, he was so happy. Two boys +was enough....”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mother.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>“I’m so glad I got you now,” the mother +went on, struggling for breath, “it makes it +not so hard ... you always loved your +mother, Edy....”</p> + +<p>“Always ... always....”</p> + +<p>“Ach, I know. No matter what troubles +I got with Sam and Marc, there was never +any trouble with you.... You always +helped me, and made me laugh....”</p> + +<p>“I wish I had been a better girl.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe I could have been a better +mother. God knows ... but I tried so +good I can.... I worked and worked +to make my children grow up good and +happy.... And it make me proud all +over, you get so beautiful, Edy....”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mother....”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my Edy ...” she stroked the +hand softly.</p> + +<p>There was a silence.</p> + +<p>“Is it a nice day?”</p> + +<p>“Beautiful, sunny, warm.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my Edy!”</p> + +<p>Deep was the silence over mother and +daughter. Then the mother went on with +poignant sadness:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>“I’m glad to live to see you get a good +man ... that’s all I wanted ... a +good man for my Edy ... only I could +have liked to see a little new baby, a little +grandchild, what call me grandmother....”</p> + +<p>Edith could hardly speak.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mother.”</p> + +<p>“Edy.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>The voice was seriously sweet and intimate:</p> + +<p>“When you get a baby, then you know +what it is to be a mother ... then you +will know what your mother was, and +maybe love her more and more....”</p> + +<p>“I will.”</p> + +<p>There was a deep, sweet silence.</p> + +<p>“So ... my throat is shut like ... +I could hardly breathe....”</p> + +<p>But she laughed softly.</p> + +<p>“Come here!”</p> + +<p>The daughter leaned over, and the old +arms drew her closer and closer!</p> + +<p>“Oh, oh—Edy! Kiss me!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>Their lips met.</p> + +<p>“My baby!”</p> + +<p>Edith slowly withdrew.</p> + +<p>“So ... tell the nurse ... quick.... +Good-by....”</p> + +<p>“Good-by. Shall I go?”</p> + +<p>“Please, Edy ... tell the nurse....”</p> + +<p>Edith stole from the room.</p> + +<p>“Miss Roth! Go to her!”</p> + +<p>The nurse went in. Edith sat at the table +in the kitchen, wide-eyed, tearless, inert. +Her face was white as a sheet, her blue eyes +big. Doctor Rast came in softly. Edith +nodded.</p> + +<p>“How is she?”</p> + +<p>“Go in.”</p> + +<p>He gazed at her a moment, and then went +with hot haste to the sick-room. Quiet hung +over the little tenement. The moments +throbbed and throbbed as they went their +way. No one seemed to stir. Earth and air +and all souls seemed suspended between +death and life. Edith neither felt nor +thought.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>And then, a soft step ... the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“Edith.”</p> + +<p>She rose.</p> + +<p>“Come in, Edith.”</p> + +<p>She followed him. The room was in twilight. +The nurse was sobbing out in the +dim parlor. The dark form of the mother +lay on the bed.</p> + +<p>Edith stood at the bedside looking down +at the quiet clay.</p> + +<p>Suddenly two boys groped their way in; +they were muttering and babbling they +knew not what. Edith turned and saw her +brothers. Her heart broke ... broke.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Sam!” she cried; “Marc!”</p> + +<p>She rushed to them; all three drew together; +all three sobbed and sobbed, terrible +wrenching sobs.</p> + +<p>And then another face appeared, a face +contorted with agony.</p> + +<p>“Edith! Edith! Edith!”</p> + +<p>She flew to him; they flung their arms +round each other; they sobbed from their +broken hearts.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>“Oh, Frank, Frank!”</p> + +<p>“My darling!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor, with tears flowing, murmured:</p> + +<p>“Peace on this house. The Mother is +dead.”</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X<br> + +<small>MORNING AGAIN</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">DEATH has its by-products, and the +greatest of these is love. The best +of human nature comes from its +deep source to the surface; families are reunited; +people grow gentle. Someone has +vanished from among us. Now we know +her as she truly was; the faults are forgotten, +the dusty details lost; we see her whole +life now, a great human round; we see her +soul, miraculous and great. No one will +ever fill her niche. Something has gone +from us. Something has gone out of our +house and our lives.</p> + +<p>Now the mystery of life comes home to +us. Here is the clay that once was woman. +Whither has gone the woman? And to this +end each one of us must come; through +this strange change each one of us must +pass. There will come a moment, real as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> +this present moment, when each of us will +meet the event. What next? Whither? +Out of life we are born. Who shall say +that we do not pass out into life? Who +knows but what this mother is real as ever, +the life enduring, the form changing? Who +knows but what this air and this room are +charged with her? Who knows but what, +standing here at the coffin, we are steeped +in her?</p> + +<p>Gentle were the brothers with Edith; +full of love and understanding. Gentle +was Frank, renewed and purified. Gentle +and wholly forgiving was Edith. Why +bother about dusty human problems? Beneath +all faults there was the divine. These +men and this woman looked on each other +now as souls—all human, all the same. +They forgot the ugly frailties. And so +Edith and Frank met heart to heart, soul +to soul, and were each glad that the other +lived and was near. In the presence of +death all life is holy; we understand that +the criminal, too, was a human being, that +somewhere in him he carried about all miracles.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>Mr. Grupp, the good man, spoke a few +words at the head of the coffin the next +evening. The brothers and Frank and +Edith with bowed heads and open hearts +stood about him. He spoke simply, and +merely because the need was great, as he +looked down on the still face:</p> + +<p>“She was a good woman. Thirty years +I’ve known her. She worked hard; she was +very kind to people. She suffered much. +Not for herself she worked. For her children, +for her husband. Now she is gone. +We shall never see her any more. She +goes again with her husband. She was the +best friend I had. Always I could come +here and she was glad to see me. Now she +will never be here any more.” The tears +trickled and he let them course without +shame. “She never thought of herself, but +always of her girl and her boys. The best +mother was she I knew. But now she is +gone; she is dead. Dust to dust!” And +then he spoke fervently in Hebrew, “The +Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away; blessed +be the name of the Lord!”</p> + +<p>Friends and relatives called; Frank’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> +father and mother came, and the little thin +woman took Edith to her heart. Zug +slipped in, and wept in a corner. Edith +went over to him:</p> + +<p>“Mr. Zug, soon Frank and I will marry. +You will call on us then?”</p> + +<p>“God bless you!” said Zug, and went his +way with handkerchief to eyes.</p> + +<p>Nell came, too, for a moment, and kissed +Edith, and called her a brave girl.</p> + +<p>And so the two days passed over the +darkened parlor, and the little group followed +the body to the City of the Dead; +ashes fell and flowers; the first spadeful of +gravel, like hail on the heart; and the sweet +Earth closed over the sweet Earth.</p> + +<p>Then came the first empty night, with its +gnawing pain, its sense of loss, its hollowness +and vacancy. Spite of cheerful talk +at supper, spite of gentleness and good humor, +the house was empty. The place at +table, the void bedroom, the still parlor, +all showed a gash of loss. It was a restless +night of heartache. But with morning the +world cried out to youth again. Work had +to be done; people met; hunger awoke<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> +again; the blood took its old stride. The +city roared on unconscious of a name lost +on the roll-call. The brothers went forth +to work; Frank sallied down Grand Street; +and Edith was busy with housework. And +so all of them were sweetly dustied up with +life again; the work in hand loomed large; +one after another the divine angels of their +natures sank back into the depths; one after +another the old imps flew up and broke +loose; and human were they, very human +again—just people. Yet possibly a streak +of something new remained, a new mellowness +not quite lost.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI<br> + +<small>ON THE BRIDGE</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">OF a summer night, the wild-rose (we +call her that more for what she +was, than is) wandered through the +crowded world with Frank. Both were in +black, and made a sober and grave couple. +Edith took his arm with a sweet trustfulness, +and often looked at him, meeting his +eyes with steadfast gaze. Wholly had she +given herself to him, for she worried no +more about theories or the last changes of +girlhood, but stepped down to his level and +followed him through his world. That +world was a very human world, and as our +young couple really were young, they +found it absorbingly interesting.</p> + +<p>A silver moon was aloft again, flooding +the streets and making pale glow of the +street-lamps; again the children ran, filling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> +the night with laughter; again the corner +stand dispensed green and scarlet liquids; +again the girls and boys stood in groups +chatting, flirting, rippling with silver mirth. +The old, old world! But where was the +wild enchantment? Where were the Enchanted +Gardens? Where was the golden +air and the delirious yearning? Under this +moon had sprung the electric bolt that +flashed their lives into one. Under this +moon had they been young god and goddess +treading the mid-spaces, winging the +mid-heavens. But spring had deepened +into summer; nature was at her ripening; +for these two April was gone forever.</p> + +<p>Yet how sweeter and simpler was July, +rich with moist roots in the soil, green and +earthy and real. It was very good to be +human beings in this human world, one +with its absorbing activities, its joys and +pangs and desires. Each season has its own +glory. How incomplete would the spring +be if nothing ripened! How good is the +summer with its promise of brown harvests!</p> + +<p>And so they wandered along, glad of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> +each other, intimate, sweetly close. Just +then they passed before an ice-cream saloon, +brilliant with electric bulbs, the Summer +Night’s Palace of the Poor. They paused a +moment.</p> + +<p>“I’m awfully thirsty,” said Edith laughingly.</p> + +<p>“Come in, then. I’ll blow you!”</p> + +<p>“Do you think we ought?”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t we thirsty?”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t, Frank?” laughingly.</p> + +<p>“Shucks!” he cried; “ain’t’s all right!”</p> + +<p>So they went in and sat at the marble +counter. Overhead whirled the electric +fans, wafting gusts of hot air on feverish +faces; flies buzzed; the counter was dripping; +the dispensers spirted syrup, spooned +ice-cream and sizzled in carbonated waters, +and then set before the thirsty a sparkling, +foamy drink. Edith, glancing in the long +mirror before her, saw the reflection of +thirsty, tired, drawn faces, girls and boys, +men and women. They were drowning in +oblivion their hard lives and the hot day. +Dawn to darkness many of them had +strained and fought against weight and time<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> +and machinery and human beings. They +were fagged and feverish. A mother with +a baby in her lap was feeding ice-cream to +the eager little one, who kept crying:</p> + +<p>“More! more!”</p> + +<p>Edith laughed softly.</p> + +<p>“Do you see it?” she asked Frank.</p> + +<p>He looked and smiled.</p> + +<p>“Come,” she said suddenly, touching his +hand, “I want to walk with you, far away! +Away by ourselves! Away from everything!”</p> + +<p>They wandered down East Broadway to +Brooklyn Bridge, and then along the foot-path, +far out to the high center. There +they stopped and leaned at the rail and +peered out. Save for the occasional train +and trolley snaking by with its glow of +gold, here was silence. On the shores two +mighty cities climbed twinkling to the horizons, +hills of stars. Overhead, in the dim-studded +heavens rolled the glory of the +moon. Beneath hurried the river, heaving, +swaying, with a silver-moonpath. Golden +ferries shuttled across, in zones of golden<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> +water. Tugs went puffing steam, visible in +moonlight, with lantern glistening gold or +red. On ferry-slip the signal lamps were +lustrous. It was a wonderfully beautiful +night.</p> + +<p>The two drew very near, and gazed in silence.</p> + +<p>“Do you love me as much as you used +to?” whispered Edith.</p> + +<p>“More,” he said.</p> + +<p>“It’s different, though,” she sighed. A +woman regrets the slipping by of the enchantment.</p> + +<p>“It’s better,” said Frank.</p> + +<p>“Frank!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sweetheart!”</p> + +<p>“Do you know,” she put an arm about +him, “you are all I have in this world +now?”</p> + +<p>“All?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I depend so much on you now,” +she sighed.</p> + +<p>“I want you to,” said he.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she cried, “it’s strange to be a +woman. I don’t like it.” Then she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> +laughed shyly. “Do you know, if it +weren’t for you, Frank, I’d want to be a +man!”</p> + +<p>He snorted laughter.</p> + +<p>“Why, that’s clever!” he cried. “Good +for you, Edith!”</p> + +<p>“Do you think I am clever—sometimes?”</p> + +<p>“Do I!” he whistled.</p> + +<p>She was delighted.</p> + +<p>“Wait till we’re married. Mrs. Lasser +will surprise the Mister!” she cried. “Such +things I’ll cook and sew and fix! And all +for you!”</p> + +<p>“Edith.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear.”</p> + +<p>“There are some things I want to tell +you.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me. I’m right here.”</p> + +<p>He spoke slowly:</p> + +<p>“I’ve saved up over a hundred dollars, +and my father is going to give me another +hundred.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she spoke breathlessly.</p> + +<p>“You know,” he said slowly, “we can buy +furniture on instalment.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Frank.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>“I’ve thought we could even get a phonograph, +too. You love music, don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she could scarcely speak, “I do.”</p> + +<p>He paused; then, very slowly:</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think we could look around +for three little rooms and furnish them?”</p> + +<p>Tears were trickling. She thought it +sweet of him to be so thoughtful; and then, +the sudden reality of their own home was +too much for a heart greatly tried these +last few weeks. She turned to him.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Frank, our own home ... our +marriage....”</p> + +<p>“Wait, Edith,” he said, and took her two +hands and looked in her face. “There’s +been something I’ve wanted to say ... +wanted to say since our talk that afternoon +... before your mother died ... you +remember?”</p> + +<p>Did she remember? What else so vividly?</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said breathlessly.</p> + +<p>“Edith,” he spoke in a new manly way, +“I’m going to be your husband. You must +trust me. You must believe in me.”</p> + +<p>“I do ... I do,” she whispered.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>“That woman,” he went on, “probably +meant well, but women don’t know anything +about all this. They get a notion in +their head and then simply make mischief. +She’s just made you unhappy. Now I want +you to do one thing, Edith.”</p> + +<p>“Yes....”</p> + +<p>“I want you to drop this—never speak of +it again. For I’m to be your husband, and +you must trust to me.”</p> + +<p>There was a deep silence; soft came the +sea-smell from the moon-stirring waters.</p> + +<p>“Will you, Edith?”</p> + +<p>“Frank,” she whispered, “I will! For I +know I should love you in spite of anything.”</p> + +<p>At that moment, curiously, she stood so +strongly by Frank, that she turned against +Nell with a sense of resentment, and resolved +to bother no more with fine words.</p> + +<p>“Edith!” he cried; “Edith!”</p> + +<p>“Frank!”</p> + +<p>They clung together, closer, and with +tender passion. Their lips met. He +crushed her in his arms. And then, like<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span> +flame leaping, their bodies cried for each +other.</p> + +<p>“Good God!” he cried. “We must get +married, Edith!”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she spoke with a sharp intake of +breath, “we must get married!”</p> + +<p>They released each other; they did not +dare stay in that place. But back they hurried +to the crowded world. New life had +broken loose within them; the mighty +Power that creates had bent them to its +will; fire was in the heart, the brain, the +blood. Their time was near at hand.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII<br> + +<small>THE THREE ROOMS</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">WHAT is more delightful than home-hunting? +And more exhausting? +You start in early in the morning +full of adventurous daring; you wind +up at twilight, dazed and drooping. +Twenty flats tangle your brain. Every +time Edith saw a to-let sign she ran Frank +up any number of flights of stairs. But +nothing pleased both. These rooms were +too dark; those too costly; these other in a +bad neighborhood. Finally Edith suggested +that they follow the migration northward +and settle in the Bronx.</p> + +<p>Then came long car-rides and dashes into +unexplored territory. Here was light and +air and quiet, but not the rich highly-colored +life of the Ghetto, not the flow of humanity, +the brilliance of packed streets.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> +Rather rawness, newness, and a brightly-polished +squalor. Edith was for light and +air, thinking of little children. The East +Side was no place for babies, for they died +there one out of three. Frank was for the +rich life, the excitement, and the familiar +haunts.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, one Sunday morning, when +they stood in a bright sunny parlor on the +fourth floor, up in the 180’s—with just a +hint of nearby park through the window—they +both felt in a flash that this was theirs.</p> + +<p>The janitor stood rubbing his hands, and +surveying grimly the handsome pair.</p> + +<p>“Well, lady and gentleman, you couldn’t +do better for the money in New York. +Look at that steamheat radiator. It’s no +fake. And them chandeliers—cost ten +plunks apiece. And this here bath-room—open +plumbing. Take my tip and grab it. +There was a party in only an hour ago, +highly pleased—coming back in an hour, +and take it sure as fate. You take my tip +and don’t let it go!”</p> + +<p>Edith flushed with excitement.</p> + +<p>“Someone else wants it?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>“Ah, say,” laughed Frank, “that’s an old +gag.”</p> + +<p>The janitor was very indignant.</p> + +<p>“Don’t believe it, eh? All right. But +don’t you grumble if it’s snatched under +your nose.”</p> + +<p>Edith’s eyes sparkled. She whispered to +Frank.</p> + +<p>“What do you think of it?”</p> + +<p>“What do you?”</p> + +<p>“What? Frank, it’s just what I want!”</p> + +<p>“Sure?”</p> + +<p>“Just look at it—and look out that window. +And with a park near! Oh, it’s beautiful!”</p> + +<p>“All right,” cried Frank, “I’m game. +Here goes.”</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do?” cried +Edith.</p> + +<p>“Take it!”</p> + +<p>“Really?” Her eyes grew wide.</p> + +<p>“Yes, really!”</p> + +<p>“You’re sure?”</p> + +<p>Frank turned to the janitor.</p> + +<p>“We’ll take it!”</p> + +<p>“That’s speaking English, young man!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> +Now, looky here—rent’s twelve per. That +means a deposit down.”</p> + +<p>“How much?”</p> + +<p>“Three dollars.”</p> + +<p>Frank drew out three dollars, and the +janitor gave him a receipt. The young +couple were red with excitement.</p> + +<p>“Now it’s ours!” cried Edith.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sweetheart, our home!”</p> + +<p>“Home!”</p> + +<p>And surely it was a glorious moment. +They surveyed every nook and corner; they +measured the floors; they planned the furniture. +They gazed on the little place with +loving pride.</p> + +<p>A week followed crowded with quick +events. There were kitchen utensils, linens, +odds and ends, and the furniture to get. +Edith’s brain grew acute. A hundred dormant +housewife powers sprang into life. +Frank was delighted with the little woman. +And finally one morning they stood in it, +and it shone round them stocked with goods.</p> + +<p>Sunlight streamed in on them. They had +found their cranny in the stormy world, +their little cave. Here would they live together,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> +and who knew what sweet life +would laugh in their sunny home? The +sacredness of Home, the glory of that habitation +which is the refuge and nursery of +the race, lifted them again to the miraculous +heights.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” cried Edith, her eyes sparkling +with tears, “this is lovelier than I +dreamed!”</p> + +<p>“It’s ours, sweetheart,” said Frank, “and +it would be beautiful no matter what it +was!”</p> + +<p>And so their little home stood ready! +They fixed their marriage-day for two +weeks later. Perhaps some of the wild enchantment +came back to them, perhaps out +of their fresh memories sprang the old +golden air, for their pulses chimed with +ecstasy, their blood sang hymns in the white +morning and in the starry night. The gates +of life stood within reach of hands; two +weeks, and they would fling open on the +rich landscape of married life. Toward +this, they knew now, the last few months +had been speeding them. Closer and closer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> +had the souls grown, and now rapidly they +were being woven into one another, to go +braiding down the happy years. The wild-rose +wore a touch of color in her black; +youth blew its buds again in her cheeks; +her eyes shed the fair light of girlish days; +she was all radiance, grace again. Frank +seemed more manly, stronger, nobler. He +was very considerate, very thoughtful. He +made many good resolves. He knew of old +that before a man marries he should be examined +by a physician, and, though he was +practically well, with but the traces of an +old trouble, he made up his mind to see +Doctor Rast. That would please Edith, if +later she came to know of it. Finally he +told Edith she was tired and needed a rest, +and as he could not get off for a honeymoon, +she must spend a week away before +the marriage. Edith laughed at him, but +he persisted, so anxiously, so ardently, that +more to please him (she would do anything +to please him) she packed up and ran +off to the mountains.</p> + +<p>In the train, with people passing them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> +up and down the aisle, they embraced passionately.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to go!” cried Edith; “I was +so happy!”</p> + +<p>“Hush!” he said. “Then how much +more happy we will be to have each +other!”</p> + +<p>“You’ll still love me? Surely?”</p> + +<p>“Love you!”</p> + +<p>“And you’ll miss me?”</p> + +<p>“Every moment!”</p> + +<p>“And write every day?”</p> + +<p>“Every day!”</p> + +<p>He felt her arms about him tight, tight—he +felt the pressure of her lips—he felt +her hair caressing his forehead—all her +presence went swimming through him. He +could not let her go. And then came the +cry of “All aboard!”</p> + +<p>“Good-by!”</p> + +<p>“Good-by, good-by! Oh, sweetheart!”</p> + +<p>“Good-by!”</p> + +<p>He ran down the moving car and turned +and waved his hand; she waved her handkerchief. +And then he was gone and she +was gone.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>One week! one week, sweet Edith! Go +your way, wild-rose! Soon the last touch +of girlishness will vanish, and the great +years begin.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII<br> + +<small>WILD OATS</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">OMINOUS thunder-clouds rolled +over the city. Supper was over +and the late light was vanishing +yellow in all directions. It had been the +sultriest day of the summer. In the gasping +humid air death fell broadcast over the +city—touching the puny tenement babies, +slaying the horses in the baking gutter, +everywhere striking the weak. Seventeen +cases of sunstroke were listed in the evening +papers. Four million people were held as +by hands in a moist oven, and were tortured +alive. All the city cried out for relief—everywhere +the prayer went up for rain.</p> + +<p>And now as Doctor Rast sat at the window +in his shirtsleeves and as Nell listlessly +tried to sew, the flying yellow light +was in the street, people struggled dimly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> +through it, and there were muffled mutterings +of thunder in the distance.</p> + +<p>“Are you getting any air there?” asked +the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’m all right!” She put down her +sewing. “But don’t you think we ought +to bring Davy in here? It’s too hot in the +bedroom.”</p> + +<p>“Cooler there than here,” muttered the +Doctor. “Is he asleep?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.” Nell smiled as mentally she saw +him. “Fast asleep, poor boy. The day +half-killed him!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor sighed.</p> + +<p>“Nell, think of all the miserable wretches +in the city to-night. The poor, the poor! +The bad milk, the stenchant smothering +tenements, the dead babies! Think of all +the misery, all the misery and pain of this +strange world. Why is it? Why is it?”</p> + +<p>Nell said nothing, but thought of green +hills and cool-waved ocean, and her little +son caught in the stone city. Sharply then, +making the room vivid, came a flash of +lightning followed by a crash as of the +house collapsing. Nell leaped up.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>“Davy’ll wake! He’ll be terribly frightened!”</p> + +<p>She hurried out into the shadows of the +inner rooms.</p> + +<p>The Doctor sat back, full of a bitter +mood. It seemed as if Nature were ready +to utterly crush her children to-night. All +day she had drained them of strength and +heart; now she was venomous and wrathful, +and loosened down upon them. A +shape passed in the street the Doctor +thought he knew and a moment later there +was a knock on the door. The Doctor had +not the heart to put on his coat. He arose +anxiously, stepped to the door and flung +it open. Frank stood before him.</p> + +<p>“Who is it? Frank Lasser?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Doctor.”</p> + +<p>“Come in—there’s nothing the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing—nothing much!”</p> + +<p>He followed the Doctor in. Neither +cared much for the other; it was a bad +evening; and Frank, besides, was lonely. +For the wild-rose was on the mountain pastures—infinities +away.</p> + +<p>The Doctor moodily pushed an armchair<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> +next the desk, and Frank sank into it. Then +the Doctor lit the light low, and sat down.</p> + +<p>“How’s Edith?”</p> + +<p>“Edith?” Frank spoke with a touch of +feeling. “She’s away, Doctor—off in the +mountains for a week. I’m glad of it—this +weather.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” the Doctor muttered, “it’s a bad +day for people.”</p> + +<p>Frank cleared his throat. He found difficulty +in beginning. He spoke in a low +voice:</p> + +<p>“Doctor.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I thought I’d drop in——”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right.”</p> + +<p>“About myself.”</p> + +<p>“Yourself? Under the weather?”</p> + +<p>“Well,” Frank laughed strangely, “not +exactly. You see we’re to be married in a +little over a week.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor leaned near, and spoke tenderly:</p> + +<p>“I’m glad to hear it—I’m really glad to +hear it. It’ll make <i>her</i> happy. I’m mightily +glad, Lasser.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>There was a pause; Frank gathered his +courage.</p> + +<p>“Doctor.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been told a man ought to be looked +over before he’s married.”</p> + +<p>“Right!”</p> + +<p>“Well——” he paused, “I know it ain’t +your office hours—but could you now?”</p> + +<p>“Of course! of course!”</p> + +<p>He arose and deliberately locked the +door, closed the shutters, and turned the +light higher.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>A little while later, Frank, leaning forward +in his chair, watched the Doctor peering +with wrinkled face into the microscope. +There was a flash of lightning bursting even +through the shutters and a dreadful booming +of thunder. The Doctor felt the lightning +in his heart. He thought of the wild-rose; +he thought of this young man before +him. For some time he could not speak. It +seemed too awful.</p> + +<p>Then Frank burst out:</p> + +<p>“Well, Doc.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>The Doctor looked up and spoke under +his breath:</p> + +<p>“You’ve had your fun, Lasser, haven’t +you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” Frank tried to speak lightly, “I’ve +sown my wild oats. I’ve gone around with +the boys a bit.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor leaned close.</p> + +<p>“When did you first get this?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, about four years ago—a woman out +West.”</p> + +<p>“Who treated you?”</p> + +<p>“Some old chap—read his ad in the +paper. Claimed I was cured for life.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor’s voice cut sharp and awful, +a knife of keen pain.</p> + +<p>“Lasser, he never cured you.”</p> + +<p>Frank could not believe his ears; he felt +a great hand smiting him down.</p> + +<p>“Never cured me?” he echoed; then anger +swept him. “That’s rot.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor leaned closer and spoke +slowly, tapping the table:</p> + +<p>“You are going to take my word in this. +This thing has run on and on—it’s become +chronic. You were never cured.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>There was a silence; now the wild rain +was rattling on pave and window.</p> + +<p>“Lasser,” said the Doctor, “you will have +to be treated again!”</p> + +<p>Frank clutched the arms of his chair; his +heart seemed to stop short; his face was +white.</p> + +<p>“You mean,” his voice was hollow and +strange, “I’ve got to be doped five or six +weeks again?”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid it will be more than that.”</p> + +<p>“More than that?”</p> + +<p>“It may take months——”</p> + +<p>“Take months?”</p> + +<p>“Lasser, I’ll tell you—you’ve got to know +the whole truth. I can’t set any time limit. +It might run on a year.”</p> + +<p>Frank gave a loud cry:</p> + +<p>“A year?”</p> + +<p>He half rose in his chair:</p> + +<p>“My God—this horrible thing—this +shame—But it’s nonsense!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor gently pushed him down:</p> + +<p>“You look this thing in the face, Lasser!”</p> + +<p>Frank sat back, trembling. Oh, the sweet +wild-rose! the dreams! the gates of happiness!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> +The Doctor, too, thought of Edith. +His eyes grew dim; he leaned near; he +could barely speak the cruel truth, the killing +truth.</p> + +<p>“You know what it means?”</p> + +<p>“What?” groaned Frank.</p> + +<p>“It means,” the Doctor spoke as if one +word at a time, “that until you are absolutely +cured—you cannot marry.”</p> + +<p>Frank sat forward, face contorted, lips +twisted.</p> + +<p>“You tell me why.”</p> + +<p>In the rattle of rain, the white of lightning +and the crash of thunder, he heard the +doom of the wild-rose. Her last kiss was +still on his lips; her arms about his neck.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you,” said the Doctor, speaking +as a father who had to hurt his son, “because +of Edith—Yes, even if you seem perfectly +well—all her life she may be an invalid—a +broken woman—or even worse. +And then the children—your children, +Edith’s children—possibly she may not be +able to have any, or if she has,” he paused, +his voice was tragic, “they may become +blind. That,” he cried, “is what comes of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> +sowing wild oats. The harvest is ruined innocents, +ruined women and children.”</p> + +<p>Frank could not breathe or think; his +brain seemed stunned. The world was wild +now, and lunatic.</p> + +<p>“You mean to say——” he broke off and +was silent.</p> + +<p>A fearful roll of thunder shook the room. +Frank gave a loud cry again; he had to defend +the deathless Past.</p> + +<p>“Why—why—I only did what they all +do——”</p> + +<p>“<i>Not all!</i>” put in the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“Then they do something as bad.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Not all of them!</i>”</p> + +<p>“Then they’re not human.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps.”</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and the Doctor spoke +in a far-away voice:</p> + +<p>“The young men—they think they have +to—they think it’s a physical necessity. It’s +not—the double-standard is a lie, a lie!”</p> + +<p>The young man was caught in a trap; +and so, a wild anger came to his rescue. +He struck the desk with his fist:</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s crazy—it’s rot—a little thing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> +like that—why, I’m all right—I’m practically +well—I know lots of men who get +married——”</p> + +<p>He stopped, face fearfully haggard, his +body wet with sweat.</p> + +<p>There was a stifling silence, through +which rain poured, lightning flashed, thunder +rolled. The city was in the clutch of a +mighty storm. And then the Doctor, looking +on this broken young man, and thinking +again of the wild-rose, felt his heart +twisted with pain and pity. He smiled +sadly, leaned, and quietly took Frank’s hand +in both of his.</p> + +<p>“Frank.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Doctor.”</p> + +<p>“For Edith’s sake”—his voice broke—“you +are going to face this terrible thing.”</p> + +<p>Frank said nothing.</p> + +<p>“For I know that you do not want to be +as other men—go on sowing wild oats—and +ruin that sweet girl. Would you do that to +her you love—love so deeply?”</p> + +<p>Frank looked away.</p> + +<p>“Think of her—so wildly sweet, so pure, +so fresh. She ought to be happy, have her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> +own home, her little children, and the good +health that fills the day with joy.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor told Frank nothing new; +with his own eyes he saw the wild-rose; in +his own heart he held her, held her and her +very life. Edith! And then the Doctor +went on quietly:</p> + +<p>“And if you and Edith had a little child—your +own child—a little living human +being—your own baby—shall it go through +life blind? Did you ever see little blind +children—so utterly pathetic, so lost in +darkness, groping and reaching and trying +to play? The world is full of such children. +Shall your child be that way? Shall +it?... Frank?”</p> + +<p>Frank’s head sank. The Doctor went on +tenderly:</p> + +<p>“I’m telling you the whole truth—candidly, +brutally—because there is enough suffering +and sorrow in this world, because +enough women are going through this moment +in pain, because of <i>her</i>, Frank. Do +you want to make the world darker and unhappier? +Is that the way you love Edith?”</p> + +<p>Frank’s head sank on his arm on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> +desk. There came from him a low, tearing +cry:</p> + +<p>“Doctor.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor was silent a moment.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Frank.”</p> + +<p>“Doctor—<i>Doctor</i>!”</p> + +<p>“Yes—Frank.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t stand it—I can’t stand it!”</p> + +<p>There was a silence again. Then suddenly +the last few months swept like a vision +through Frank’s heart. He raised his +flushed face and clenched his fist.</p> + +<p>“She’s been making a decent fellow of +me—I was rotten before, rotten—she’s +making something of me—I’m all changed—and +she—if you knew how she loves me. +Oh, I never knew any one could love like +that! God, and she’s so happy, you never +saw a girl like it”—he suddenly gave a +cry—“our three little rooms, our home—<i>Doctor</i>!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor leaned forward and spoke in +a queer voice:</p> + +<p>“Your three little rooms? Have you +taken a flat?”</p> + +<p>Frank put his hands to his face:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>“It’s all ready! Everything’s ready!”</p> + +<p>“You poor children,” murmured the +Doctor.</p> + +<p>Then Frank lifted his face, and cried +hoarsely:</p> + +<p>“Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? +I can’t back out now! I can’t hold this up! +Everybody knows it—we’ve told all. What +excuse could I give? What reason? What +can I tell Edith? Good God, do you think +I could tell her this? She’s a sweet, pure +girl——”</p> + +<p>“I think,” said the Doctor slowly, “she +would understand. Women understand +where babies are involved.”</p> + +<p>Frank blazed with anger:</p> + +<p>“Don’t you speak of telling <i>her</i>! I won’t +stand for it!” And then his voice went +wild again: “Just ask her to wait? to wait +and wait? It will break her heart. And +all for what? Because I’m human, because +I’m human! Oh!”</p> + +<p>His head sank down. The Doctor put +an arm about him and drew him close.</p> + +<p>“Frank”—his voice was pure with its +tenderness, its compassion—“I know. Life<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> +is a real danger, strong as dynamite, sharp +as a knife-blade—if we play with it, and +that’s what sin is, we are apt to be blown +to pieces or slashed and stabbed. The +world isn’t a stage and all the men and +women merely players—real blood flows, +real torture tears the heart, real hearts +break, real death annihilates us. And only +a real man can grapple with this real life. +Are you a real man, Frank?”</p> + +<p>There was a silence again. And then +Frank broke away from the Doctor and +rose and clenched his fist. His eyes had a +dash of wildness in them, his face trembled +with passion.</p> + +<p>“You want to break Edith’s heart—why, +just when she is so happy and I so changed—to +have a thing like this happen. I’ll not +bear it. I don’t believe it. I’m well—don’t +I feel all right? There’s nothing the +matter with me! I bet some other doctor—— +It’s a matter of luck, anyway, and +I’ve been lucky, I’m always lucky. Why, +no one could get married if this were so. +It’s tommy rot, it’s womanish. A man must +go ahead, he must risk something——”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>“Yes,” the Doctor broke in quietly. +“Himself. But are you going to risk Edith, +and Edith’s children?”</p> + +<p>Frank came close to him and all the +frenzy of his passion poured with his voice:</p> + +<p>“But I’m crazy for her—I must have +her!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor suddenly arose, a pain of hot +anger in his heart. He seized Frank by +the arm and looked in his face:</p> + +<p>“You dare to speak like that, Frank? I +tell you you’re an irresponsible boy yet—you’ve +been playing, you’re a pleasure-seeker; +you don’t know what life means. +You don’t know anything about pain and +sorrow. You haven’t suffered enough yet. +You don’t understand women—women who +bear the burden of this world, the commonest +in the street suffering pangs a man can’t +dream of, who make men of us, and men of +little children, who give themselves to us +soul and body. And you would take a pure +woman and basely defile her, spoil her +body, and darken her days and nights! +Frank, I tell you you’re a boy yet! Crazy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> +for her! You must have her! You shall +not have her, not yet! It would be better +if you went down to the river to-night and +threw yourself in!”</p> + +<p>Frank stared at him, his face pale.</p> + +<p>“How will you stop me?” he asked +hoarsely.</p> + +<p>“How stop you?” the Doctor spoke +sharply. “I’ll have Nell speak to Edith.”</p> + +<p>“Speak—to—Edith?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Frank, she shall!”</p> + +<p>Frank’s voice rose.</p> + +<p>“I’m your patient—you’re sworn as a +doctor not to tell your patient’s secret—you’re +sworn to it. I know what I know!”</p> + +<p>The Doctor looked at him strangely.</p> + +<p>“Frank,” he murmured slowly, “there +are times for breaking even oaths.”</p> + +<p>He dropped Frank’s arm and paced up +and down the room. Wild was the storm, +shaking the room, dashing the panes with +rain. Frank sank into the chair, crumpled +up in it. His face was fearfully white and +looked frightened. He kept wetting his +lips together.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>The Doctor took his seat again; his face +was full of trouble; he gave Frank a searching +glance; he spoke very low.</p> + +<p>“Frank.”</p> + +<p>“What you want?”</p> + +<p>“Frank,” he seized the young man’s hand +again, “you’re in trouble, in deep waters. +Let’s be sensible. Let’s see this thing with +both eyes. You say that this love for Edith—this +deep, great love for a sweet, true +girl—has been making a man of you, a +woman of her. Then it hasn’t been wasted; +it’s worth while even to love—and lose. +But you won’t lose. Go away. Leave her; +go traveling again. Go for a long while. +And this great love will go on working in +your lives—you will be all the better for +it, all the nobler and happier, knowing that +you have sacrificed, sacrificed for her. And +then, Frank, when the time comes, you can +offer her a true and a good man and be as +happy as you dream. You know Edith will +wait for you—gladly, gladly!”</p> + +<p>But Frank cried out sharply:</p> + +<p>“It can’t be done! It’s too late! What +if you were engaged—if you were just at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> +the gates of your happiness—if you had +waited and waited for this—if you loved +as Edith and I love—if everyone knew—if +your home was all ready—could you break +it off? Could you wait? Talk’s cheap. +But, think, it’s the happiest time of our life—such +a time will never come for Edith +again. Oh,” he moaned, “it will break her +heart.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” the Doctor went on softly, “but if +you marry her now, Frank, and troubles +come thick and fast upon you, and the first +bloom of love fades off, and everything becomes +commonplace, and your wife is complaining +and sickly, and there is a sick or a +blind child, will you be so crazy for her +then? Will she be so happy then? You +don’t know what marriage means, how +much it demands from a man and a woman, +what sacrifices, what service, what unselfishness. +And then when you realize that the +fault is yours, and that it is too late to mend +it—that you have only made the world +darker for your living in it, and visited +your sins on your children and on your +wife, then you will wonder, Frank, why<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> +you ever dreamed of marrying. Don’t talk +to me of too late and everyone knowing it +and the shame. It’s not too late to save +Edith and Edith’s children. That’s the only +thing to think of. Come, you’ll give Edith +up now; you’ll go away.”</p> + +<p>Frank arose; his face struggled; he +gulped as if he were strangling, and the +Doctor standing, thinking again of the +wild-rose, gripped the boy’s arms:</p> + +<p>“Frank—Frank—tell me!”</p> + +<p>“I can’t stand it,” said Frank. “I love +her so.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor leaned close to the boy.</p> + +<p>“Love her more then—love her enough +to save her—save her from you!”</p> + +<p>Frank said nothing.</p> + +<p>“Will you? Yes or no?”</p> + +<p>And then Frank cried:</p> + +<p>“Give me time to think. This has all +come so of a sudden.” Then suddenly he +burst out: “It’s too late—it’s impossible—I’m +well”—and then he smiled haggardly +and added—“give me time, Doctor.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor smiled sadly:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>“Take your own time, Frank. Go! Now +you’re all right!”</p> + +<p>Frank steadied himself, he was reeling +like a drunkard. The Doctor, at the door, +leaned low:</p> + +<p>“I only want you children happy. Edith +is one of the loveliest I know.”</p> + +<p>Frank nodded his head, gulped, the Doctor +patted him on the back, and then shut +him out in the storm. He dashed into +lightning.</p> + +<p>Then the Doctor unlocked the other door +and went back to his desk and sat chin on +palm. His mind seemed to deepen down +into the very springs and subterranean currents +of life, all the mysteries of existence +closed over him like storm and heat. He +felt himself mixed in with a world of much +agony and strife, and all was so real that it +sent a pain into the recesses of his heart. +And then he thought of the wild-rose, and +all the wild-roses of this world, so early +blighted, the sweet possibilities unfulfilled. +Truly the tragedy of this Earth is the +wasted possibilities!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>Nell opened the door and came in carrying +Davy in her arms. The little fellow, +in his nightdrawers, was staring curiously +and was wide awake. He pointed to his +father.</p> + +<p>“Thunder, daddy!” he cried.</p> + +<p>The Doctor looked up with blinded eyes.</p> + +<p>“Why, Morris,” Nell exclaimed, “you +look like the end of the world!”</p> + +<p>“Nell,” he muttered, “the misery and +pain of this world! I’m sorry for poor people, +and I’m sorry for sick little children, +and I’m sorry, sorriest for the women. It +seems as if they always had the raw end of +the deal!”</p> + +<p>The storm drowned his voice.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV<br> + +<small>THE WHIRLWIND</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">FRANK plunged wildly into the night, +and rushed he knew not where. +Without umbrella or coat, with +straw hat jammed down over his forehead, +with jacket flapping in the wind and head +bent low, and fists clenched, he flew through +the empty streets like a Fury, alone with +the storm. For miles he flew, callous to the +rain that soaked and drenched him, that +splashed his face and closed his eyes. The +whole city huddled under the loosened elements, +but this human being laughed at the +might of the heavens. What if the lightning +struck him down? He himself was +death flying through the city.</p> + +<p>Death! Death of all things! Death of +all that made life. What is life without the +things dearest to us? What is life without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> +love or hope or joy or vision? Mockery +of the Fates! They drive a free man into +sweet bondage, and then rob him of the +sweet. The bondage remains; the prisoner +writhes and struggles in the coils; he cannot +escape; he is alone; he cries out; he +lifts his hands; the heavens? They send +lightning and storm upon him, beat him +down, ruin him.</p> + +<p>When the mad passion of sex-love seizes +a man, has he not for the time a sweet insanity? +He cannot see things sensibly; he +cannot reason. <i>This night</i> he must have +the woman! To wait a day even is torture +unendurable. The moments separate; +each one is a trial and a durance. Wait for +Edith? Wait months? Wait years? As +well never marry, as well die at once.</p> + +<p>What a world! At first a playground; +then a pleasure palace; then an Enchanted +Garden—but now? Even as the lightning +revealed vivid stretches of avenue, so the +world stood naked this night. A mad hell +of struggling souls, whipped by the whirlwind, +stung and lashed by a rain of fire, +split through the heart by the lightnings<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> +of pain and hate and failure, drowned in +the mocking thunder! Could there be a +god in such a mad-house? No—save a mad +God, a merciless God, a divine cynic playing +with puppets.</p> + +<p>What had he done that he merited this? +Had he not gone the way of the world? +Had he not followed the teachings of the +street? Had he not been ignorant? To +punish ignorance is to punish innocence. +How can we help what we don’t know? +No one had ever taught him, no one warned +him. Why, they had patted him on the +back and told him to go out and be a man. +They had told him that until he had made +the rounds he had not reached manhood. +And so he had gone.</p> + +<p>Women of old arose and danced through +the night at his side. The golden-haired +one was there, laughing like a waterfall, +loosing her harsh, sweet music. These had +taught him life, these had taught him +<i>Woman</i>.</p> + +<p>Why, it was wildly absurd. The Doctor +was wrong. Men like the Doctor are fanatics. +They go too far. And they are ignorant.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> +What do they know of the world?</p> + +<p>Was he sick? Did he carry a peril in +his body? Was he a danger? Mad! mad! +who could believe such a thing! Wouldn’t +he feel pain if there was a real trouble? +Wouldn’t he be weak and crippled? He +knew. He had been through it long ago. +He was all right. He was well and strong.</p> + +<p>Who can go against Nature? It was Nature +all these years that had driven him +into vice. Who can go against her? And +what is natural is right. Now Nature was +driving him into marriage; Nature with +her fatal hands was drawing a man and +woman together; they had to serve her purposes; +they could not resist; they could not +push off a finger; slowly, surely, inevitably +closer and closer they came. Now they +were at the very verge of marriage. What +could stop them? Who could go against +Nature? And what is natural is right.</p> + +<p>Came a vivid vision of the three little +rooms, the new furniture, the sunlight +streaming on Edith’s head. Oh, the overrunning +happiness! Oh, the cup trembling +at the very lips! The gates, the golden<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> +gates of happiness within reach of the hand!</p> + +<p>Edith had said:</p> + +<p>“I didn’t dream it would be so lovely.”</p> + +<p>He had answered:</p> + +<p>“It’s ours—it would be beautiful no matter +what it was!”</p> + +<p>He felt the pressure of her lips, the passionate +hug of her arms in the train. Again +those last wild words—the good-by.</p> + +<p>She had cried in his ear:</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to go away! I was so +happy!”</p> + +<p>“Hush!” he had said; “think of how +much happier we will be to have each +other!”</p> + +<p>“You’ll still love me? Surely?”</p> + +<p>“Love you!”</p> + +<p>“And you’ll miss me?”</p> + +<p>“Every moment!”</p> + +<p>“And write every day?”</p> + +<p>“Every day!”</p> + +<p>Oh, the wild-rose, the sweet face, the +trust in him. She was coming back in a +week; they were to be married; they were +to go into the little home; <i>their</i> home. +Every evening he would come home to her;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> +they would sit opposite at table; their lives +would be woven and woven into one another, +and go trailing beautifully down the +years. Who could stop them? Who could +withhold the glory promised? Who would +hold the wild cup to their lips and then +dash it to the ground as they reached trembling +to taste of it?</p> + +<p>But now? Hideous was the world! Hidden +in it were poisons and death-dealing +drugs. Terrors lurked behind the beautiful +face of Nature. Under the skin lay earthquake +and volcano. Hideous!</p> + +<p>He was caught in a trap. He had ignorantly +sown the wind, and now the whirlwind +was sweeping him to ruin. But not +only him. The wild-rose! The wild-rose +torn from the sunny soil and blown away +into the dark, deathly gorge.</p> + +<p>“This will kill her,” he cried. “This will +kill her!”</p> + +<p>He had no excuse to offer her. Tell her +the truth? Never! She would shrink +from him, as from a thing tainted. She +would shudder in his presence, a girl so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> +pure and sweet and innocent. She would +learn to hate him. That would end all.</p> + +<p>He racked his brain. What could he tell +her? Had he lost his position? He could +get another. Was he sick? That was absurd; +she knew he was well. Could he +withhold the reason, and tell her to trust +to him? She would demand the truth; she +would think he had ceased to love her. +What reason was there after taking the little +home and furnishing it?</p> + +<p>“Go to her,” cried his heart; “go to her, +and trust to your instincts to explain!”</p> + +<p>Wild advice! He knew that if he saw +her face, that if he touched her lips with +his, that if once her arms were about him, +all was lost. He had not the strength to +look on her and depart.</p> + +<p>The Doctor’s words flew back to his +mind. He tried to shut them out. They +persisted in coming. They stormed upon +him, they cried out, they were heard—heard +loudly. Edith an invalid—Edith a +broken woman—and the baby!</p> + +<p>Could it be blind—their baby? Horrible!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> +That surely would break Edith’s +heart! Come! he must be a man! He must +swallow the bitter medicine! How dared +he think of passion?</p> + +<p>So then—it was all over! He would +tell Edith—and Edith would plead with +him to tell all. And all he couldn’t tell. +That would break it all up. Yes, he must +renounce Edith. He must release her utterly. +He must go his own way. This +then is the end of the wild enchantment and +the golden days! This is the end of it.</p> + +<p>He saw the black and bitter years ahead—he +saw Edith growing old alone, her love +for him turned to hate, her dreams shattered—a +withered and dried single woman! +He saw himself plunging again into vice, +drowning his sorrow—a long, empty, cynical +life.</p> + +<p>Impossible! Why must this be?</p> + +<p>Because a fanatic had told him he was a +peril. It was a lie! a lie! He knew better. +There was Julius Neuman, he remembered, +who had had the same trouble and married. +Why, he had three children—three lusty<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> +children—and his wife was strong and +happy.</p> + +<p>Frank laughed. The Doctor was crazy! +He was making a mountain of a mole-hill. +Who can go against Nature? Nature is always +right. Go with her, not against her.</p> + +<p>Laughing harshly he turned homeward. +He thought he had solved the trouble. He +thought it was all over.</p> + +<p>But then with redoubled fury the whirlwind +awoke again. Try as he would he +could not drown out the downright sense +of the Doctor. His mind told him that he +didn’t know all about Julius Neuman. His +mind told him that the Doctor handled such +facts every day, and knew.</p> + +<p>Wild was his heart again! He saw the +wild-rose torn and trampled in the mud. +He saw his own life crashing about him. +But he had to have her; he was crazy for +her. Waiting even a week was nearly unendurable.</p> + +<p>He clenched his fists again; he raged; +he drove like a demon. Vivid lightnings +struck open the heavens and tore night out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> +of the streets; thunder boomed through the +rushing air. Up the stairs of the Henry +Street tenement he dashed, flung open the +door of his home, and slammed it to.</p> + +<p>His mother cried out:</p> + +<p>“Frank? Is it you?”</p> + +<p>He did not answer. He slammed the +door of his own room. He sat down on the +bed in the blackness. Water poured from +him, splashing the floor. He was almost +insane. He could not bear the fire in his +breast, the fever on his forehead and +cheeks.</p> + +<p>“Good God!” he cried hoarsely. “Good +God!”</p> + +<p>The door opened gently; someone entered.</p> + +<p>“O God! God!” he cried; “I’m going +crazy!”</p> + +<p>A gentle hand touched him; a gentle +voice spoke:</p> + +<p>“Frank.”</p> + +<p>He did not answer.</p> + +<p>“Has something happened to Edith?”</p> + +<p>He laughed harshly. His mother began +to cry, with soft sobs:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>“Frank, Frank!”</p> + +<p>She drew his head to her heart, she +patted his cheek. Something broke down +within him; he was very weak. He did not +resist.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mother,” he moaned, “what shall +I do?”</p> + +<p>“What is it, Frank?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t tell you!”</p> + +<p>They were silent. His mother stooped +and kissed him.</p> + +<p>“Do what is right, dear. My poor boy! +my poor boy!”</p> + +<p>She was gone. He grew calm, as in a +trance. He arose and lit the gas; sat down +at his little table, and took pen and paper.</p> + +<p>“My darling,” he began writing, “never +doubt that I love you with my very soul, +and would rather die than harm you. We +cannot marry yet. You mustn’t ask for the +reason—I am not allowed to tell. You +must trust to me—trust absolutely. Perhaps +it will only be for a short time——”</p> + +<p>He paused, pen in air. He saw the wild-rose +reading these strange words; he saw +her pale, perhaps swooning away. It was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> +like stabbing her with a knife. No, no, no! +Darling Edith! He could not hurt her! +He could not harm her!</p> + +<p>“No,” he said quietly, “I will go to her. +She is wise and good. I will tell her like a +child; she will forgive me like a mother!”</p> + +<p>Long and long he lay, even until the +dawn broke white and clear—lay in a +strange peace; knowing that Edith was wise +and good.</p> + +<p>And that next day he took train and went +to her, with forewarning of a telegram. +She met him at the station—and how brown +she was—how beautiful with the sun and +the wind! How fresh and girlish again! +She was wildly happy. He had come, she +knew, because he could not stay away from +her. Glorious was that evening. He could +not bring himself to break into her wonderful +happiness. Calm and quiet, he let her +walk him under the stars.</p> + +<p>And then that night she whispered:</p> + +<p>“Let’s climb the mountain in the morning! +See the sunrise from the mountain +top!”</p> + +<p>That was his chance. Up there in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> +clear dawn he could speak. So they +planned to meet before the house at four +in the morning, and they parted, kissing +passionately, drowsy with the glory of their +love.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV<br> + +<small>SUNRISE</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THEY met in secret at the pasture +bars across the road. In the dim +light and still ecstasy of nature +they stole on each other like ghosts. And +then—fresh dewy lips, cool enwinding +arms—and new enchantment. They were +children of the city, children of noise and +stone. But here was eternal quiet and the +beauty that walks in the heart. Close were +they at last to Mother Earth, and she sent +through them her vital might and drew +them passionately together.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Frank, Frank,” whispered Edith, +“we were never so near each other, so near, +so near!”</p> + +<p>In that moment bliss overcame him and +he forgot all else.</p> + +<p>“Edith—sweetheart!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>For long they stood thus, and then silently +went through the pasture toward the +still woods. A sea of mist lay on the ground +about them, a foot deep, and through the +mist here and there, like stars, floated a +daisy. A ghostly light was everywhere. A +waning moon stood over the mountain. +The air was very pure, fragrant with +Earth, cool and caressing.</p> + +<p>Into the wilderness, along an upward +trail they wandered, Frank walking before. +How wild! how still! how deep! Dawn +was not; only the ghostly light, only the +waning moon. They picked their way over +dead logs and stones and branches; twigs +snapped wet in their faces.</p> + +<p>How wonderfully alone they were! In +the shadows about them only a leaf here +and there rustled; they heard the noise of +their own footsteps. Fresh were the wood-smells, +poignant with dew; and a mighty +expectation seemed to brood in the still air. +They paused once to listen to the plaintive +call of the wood-owl, and then went on, +witchery stealing over their hearts. It was +too beautiful for words.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>Then, “Listen,” whispered Edith.</p> + +<p>It was the fresh liquid thunder of rushing +water, shaking the air with music. It +lulled them both, soothing Frank’s heart. +He was steeped in new miracles; he could +think of nothing else. Suddenly, at a twist +of the trail the mountain torrent roared +beside them, a tumbled whiteness under the +last few stars of dawn.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Edith,” he breathed, clasping her +hand.</p> + +<p>They stood in silence.</p> + +<p>But there were no words in the face of +this. So they went on, climbed a steep +slope, and then paused, thrilling with grandeur. +Empty space fell under them. They +were at the edge of a cliff, from which, at +their side, sprang a towering pine jutting +into the sky. Beneath them lay a wild +gorge—chaos and ruin of rocks and wild +vegetation, the torrent leaping white here +and there. Far opposite arose the mountain. +The waning moon peered under the +pine-boughs.</p> + +<p>Enchantingly wild was the scene, and as +they stood hand in hand the faint wind of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> +dawn lulled them; leaves rustled; needles +fell. Then it was gone. But how good +the smell of the pines and the damp earth! +How still the cool air! How wild the +scene!</p> + +<p>“Oh,” whispered the wild-rose, “who +could have dreamed of this! And that we +should have it—together! I think my heart +would break now if you weren’t here!”</p> + +<p>“Edith!”</p> + +<p>Sadness seized him. Was this the last +morning, here, in the wilderness, the beautiful +wilderness? Love smote him; he +wished he could clasp her, and that in one +another’s arms they might hurl themselves +to death in the rocky gorge.</p> + +<p>“Edith!”</p> + +<p>He felt her arms about him again, and +brush of dewy-sweet lips and electric +wafture of hair. They grew drowsy with +the glory. All the passion of the Earth +pulsed through them, all the primordeal +joy of creation.</p> + +<p>A tear, not his own, ran down his cheek.</p> + +<p>“Sweetheart!” he cried, holding back to +see her face. “So happy?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>The wild-rose could not speak. Her eyes +were shining at the lashes; two tears were +trickling down.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” he whispered.</p> + +<p>“Our love,” was all she could say.</p> + +<p>She trembled close to him; a strange +shudder passed through them both together, +as if all their nerves were joined in one +body, an aching ecstasy. Forgotten was the +wilderness and the gorge; forgotten all, +save this.</p> + +<p>They turned away, faint with love. +Frank felt himself weakening. He was +overcome with trembling beauty. Onward +they went, crossing where the torrent ran +narrow, climbing the mountain through the +pine-forest. As upward they strove, aiming +as toward some victory, some wild goal, +they could not see the world beneath, but +only here and there glimpses of the pale +sky. And then they came to a high slant +of weathered rock, scaled it, and came out +at the top of a grassy clearing, where, right +beyond, a blue mirror in the wilderness, lay +a little rain-water lake, hung in mid-heaven, +circled with pines.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>Clasping hands the city-children gazed +till their eyes were dim. Then they turned. +Wonder weakened them. They cried out +together. For the Earth was unrolled at +their feet. Far as eye could see ran the +mountain ranges, lifting out of valleys of +white mist. Up the high slant of skies the +golden heralds of dawn were running; +mighty blew the gale in their faces; wild +exhilaration stung them. They were alone +on the heights of the world! They were +alone—free!</p> + +<p>But the wind was cold.</p> + +<p>“Edith!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Frank!”</p> + +<p>He spread his coat out with his right +arm.</p> + +<p>“Come in under!”</p> + +<p>She nestled under, and he wrapped her +close. They stood as one, warmer for the +contact, and he felt her living heart beating +at his side.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she cried, “I can’t speak, Frank! +I just love and love and love you!”</p> + +<p>Ecstasy swept them. And then their eyes +saw the miracle of the dawn. Far in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> +Eastern skies that flush of purple; far on +the valleys that purple flush. Swift on +horizon, splendor of scarlet and bubbling +yellow. Vast overhead the lift and spread +of the paling heavens. And then on the +Eastern rim a snake of fire; a riot of color; +a thrill as of a curtain lifting; flame, +flame——</p> + +<p>“The sun!” they whispered breathlessly, +“the sun!”</p> + +<p>How could city-children know of such +glories? They were gathered in the heart of +revelations. Fire leaped from each to each. +And lo, the mists were blown from the +valleys; the sky swam blue; voices ran +hither and yon in the forest; the whole +Earth seemed to shake itself, awake, and +shout, and quiver, and laugh. They saw +lakes lying silver among the hills; they saw +one broad fruitful valley, the dissimilar +green of barley, wheat, and rye-fields; +barns and houses, smoke lifting from chimneys; +straggling gray stone-walls. Far +away they saw a dusty road and a boy driving +cows. Hens were in a barnyard about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span> +a woman scattering bran; a horse loped +lazily over a pasture, and then——</p> + +<p>“Look!” cried Edith.</p> + +<p>A lonely eagle soared in the blue, lost +now and then in the sun.</p> + +<p>Behind them sang a bluebird, pouring +the sunrise into song.</p> + +<p>He felt her heart beating sharply at his +side; he saw the radiance and distinctness +of the Earth; he breathed the glory-freshened +air. He was trembling with passion. +Edith’s life was gliding into his. It was +too late, too late.... She was his, +his....</p> + +<p>And then she stood free of him, trembling. +He saw the wind blowing the hair +over her forehead, he saw her eyes confronting +sunrise with sunrise, the blowing +skirts, the freshness and fragrance of the +wild-rose. She was his ... his....</p> + +<p>“Edith!” he seized her hand.</p> + +<p>“Come away from this,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>They stepped back to the little lake and +stood on the moist grassy ground facing the +waters. For some time they were silent, as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> +the morning grew. He tried then to think +clearly. “No, no,” cried his heart. “Trust +to instinct! Trust to Nature!” The sun rose +higher; the sky was of the tenderest blue; +the warm smells of Earth blew over them; +insects buzzed and hummed in the grass; +the bluebird sang, and softly the lake-water +lapped on the pebbly shore.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she felt it—the secret. Earth +yearned; the sun like a male embraced the +female Earth; two thrushes fluttered about +their nest in the pine; two squirrels chased +over the ground; and now there were two +eagles in the blue. It was the sacred fire +of creation, raimenting the Earth with new +life—with babies and fruits and cubs—and +everything sang and dripped and ran and +sparkled with the glory. The two human +beings drew close together; the man forgot +his message; forgot the world; he thought +only of this woman. For this they were +alive; toward this had they been doomed. +How could a thing so sacred be wrong?</p> + +<p>He drew closer to her. She was so rich +and living! Music wrapt them, creation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span> +stirred in them. They were lost to all save +each other.</p> + +<p>“Edith.”</p> + +<p>“Frank.”</p> + +<p>He took both her hands, he drew her till +their faces were close.</p> + +<p>“I love you!” he whispered.</p> + +<p>She spoke tremulously:</p> + +<p>“Will you love me forever?”</p> + +<p>“Forever.”</p> + +<p>“Ever and ever?”</p> + +<p>“Forever and forever!”</p> + +<p>His arms drew her closer; their lips met; +they cried out; they stood thus silent, motionless. +The blue bent nearer, the birds +sang, the leaves rustled, needles fell on +them, the lake-water rippled dreamily. +They were overcome with love, a long +glory.</p> + +<p>Whispered Edith at last:</p> + +<p>“If you should die now I should die +now.”</p> + +<p>Sacred was this love, indeed. He +groaned inwardly. How could he blast this +beauty? And then for a moment he was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> +in the clutch of a wild struggle. Tell her +he must; had he not come up for this; tell +her he must, whatever the consequences. +Was he so weak? Was he so unmanly? +Was his love so earthly a thing? The morning +began to darken for him; he released +the wild-rose; he stood from her, gazing +on the grass.</p> + +<p>“Frank,” she whispered, taking his hand, +“what is it?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing!” he murmured.</p> + +<p>He felt it would be better to die than to +pour into her ears the poison that would +kill her happiness. In a few minutes their +love would be shattered, their lives broken. +He could see her face piteous and drooping; +he could hear her wild cry. How +could he speak? Why had he come? Why +had he not written? And here she was, so +real, so vital, his own, his own.</p> + +<p>But you must tell her, Frank. Shall you +ruin this pure wild-rose? Shall all her +beauty go because you are weak?</p> + +<p>He moistened his lips.</p> + +<p>“Listen,” he said, in a strange voice.</p> + +<p>“I’m listening,” she murmured.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>“I must tell you something.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me.”</p> + +<p>The moment had come. Listen now, +wild-rose, and try to be wise! His tongue +was tied, he stood rooted to the ground, his +lips were parched.</p> + +<p>“Edith!”</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“I want to ask you something.”</p> + +<p>“Ask me.”</p> + +<p>Oh, the sweetness of her, the freshness.</p> + +<p>“What—if—what if—what if we weren’t +married for a while yet?”</p> + +<p>She spoke with sharp fright:</p> + +<p>“What has happened, Frank?”</p> + +<p>Could he go on? He delayed the blow.</p> + +<p>“Why, nothing,” he laughed strangely. +“I only wanted to know.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a strange question!” her voice grew +sharp again. “Something’s happened, +Frank. I know it!”</p> + +<p>She seized his arm, looked in his face. +That touch, that look overcame him. Nature +cried out to take her. These two were +for one another. Far was the city, far the +Doctor; reason grew pale and fled; doubts<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span> +vanished. His blood sang again; fire once +more fell from the blue and wound them +round; wildness was in them, wildness of +Earth and sun.</p> + +<p>“I only wanted to know,” he whispered, +“because I—I couldn’t wait!”</p> + +<p>She loosed silver laughter—utter joy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Frank! Frank! I—I can hardly +wait a week!”</p> + +<p>He laughed happily; they stepped to the +cliff. They looked down on the marvelous +world.</p> + +<p>“All the world’s before us!” he laughed.</p> + +<p>“And all of life!” cried the wild-rose. +“This is the sunrise of our marriage!”</p> + +<p>Wild joy, wild laughter filled them. +They were children again. They raced +down through the wilderness, they drank of +the cool spring, making a cup of Edith’s +hand; they played tag, red was in their +cheeks, and innocence gloried about them. +Beautiful were they, and overflowing with +life. Away with dark thoughts! Fling off +problems and theories! Take the cup and +drink of it!</p> + +<p>And so Frank was overcome; and so all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> +darkness fled from his heart; and so he +laughed at the Doctor and did not believe +him, and knew himself for a well man. He +went back to the city that afternoon; he +plunged into his work. His mind was free. +He was sure of himself. Nature herself +had answered his questions.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The next week they were married—Sam +giving away the bride, and Mr. Grupp getting +the second kiss by force.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI<br> + +<small>THE PASSING SEASONS</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">WELL, well, well, what a world! +Not only are there queer people +in it, but there are also young +couples. They’re enough to make one sick—so +said Mr. Grupp—kissing and hugging +and making a show of themselves. Why +in the middle of dinner does Mr. Lasser +deem it necessary to leap up from his soup, +circle the table, and give Mrs. Lasser one +on the cheek? Why, when company is present +must they needs be spooning on the +sofa?</p> + +<p>Sam and Marcus paraded up and down +the three rooms, chanting:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse">“<i>Gee whiz! I’m glad I’m free</i>,</div> +<div class="verse"><i>No wedding bells for me!</i>”</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Said Sam to Frank:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>“Come on out with us to-night and have +a good time!”</p> + +<p>Whereupon Marc chanted:</p> + +<p>“I would if I could, but I can’t. Why? +Because I’m married now!”</p> + +<p>“I told you not to kiss so much,” said Mr. +Grupp from the Morris chair (on which +but two instalments have been paid). “One +kiss a day, before and after!”</p> + +<p>Marc took Frank aside, and spoke secretly:</p> + +<p>“Take my advice and never get married. +Oh, I beg your pardon. I forgot!”</p> + +<p>Mr. Grupp gave the young wife a +schnelker, and she swept him out of the +room with a broom, a gale of laughter +blowing all about her. He nursed a sore +knee, groaning, and making impossibly +funny faces.</p> + +<p>“Oi yoi yoi! Oh, Mamma! such a woman-lady!” +And then he declaimed dramatically, +“A lion, Mr. Lasser, a tiger, Mr. +Lasser, a <i>rhinoceros</i>, Mr. Lasser, <i>even a +rattlesnake</i>—you can tame—but a vomen, +never!”</p> + +<p>They laughed for old sake’s sake.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>Frank was very obedient when Edith +gave orders.</p> + +<p>“Himmel!” cried Mr. Grupp, holding +his cheek as if he had the toothache. “That +boy is a sie-mandel! (a henpecked half-man).</p> + +<p>“He’s all right,” said Edith, petting him. +“He’s the best in all the world!”</p> + +<p>“Cut it out!” cried the brothers.</p> + +<p>“You should have taken my advice,” said +Mr. Grupp. “Fifty years engaged, one +year married!”</p> + +<p>How proudly the young couple showed +their place to visitors, displaying kitchen +ware and Mission furniture, rug and clock +and silver and china. And especially the +view! What happy Sunday nights when +Mr. Grupp and the brothers and Jonas Zug +crowded the table and ate cold slices and +pickles and cheese and cake! Zug came +regularly now, and had ceased to rave. He +had fallen into the comfortable berth of +friend of the family, and was always +warmly welcome. Everyone liked to call +on the Lassers—their little place was so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> +radiant with their own happiness. One felt +the home-feeling as one stepped in; one +carried away the glow and warmth of an +open hearth fire. The Lassers took people +into their home and their heart. Everyone +felt instinctively that here was a happy +marriage, here was a couple perfectly +mated.</p> + +<p>Jonas would sit with them till late at +night, and all three would remember and +laugh over the vanished days.</p> + +<p>Edith and Frank never forgot their first +supper in the little kitchen. They had been +married the night before; all day they had +been setting the things to right—hanging +and rehanging and rehanging the four pictures +till their heads were dizzy—cleaning +the floors—placing the furniture—stacking +the cupboards. Now in the warm evening +they sat down. Low overhead the light +glowed over the table and their faces. +They sat opposite. The silverware shone; +the plates were polished, the food steamed. +A noise of people overhead and beneath +hinted of many homes. Peaceful and at rest<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span> +was the weary world. How alone they +were! how human this was! how devoid of +passion!</p> + +<p>They looked at each other across the +table, their eyes met and shone with tears. +They felt all the holiness of their home. +This air they breathed was hallowed; this +food of which they were to partake was +sacred. The common lot; the simple human +things—all theirs. And each other! +They two alone, sundered from all others, +alone in their own home. A deep wish +sprang in both hearts; the wish to say grace, +to ask a blessing on their first supper. But +of whom? This younger generation knew +no God, and spoke no prayers.</p> + +<p>Edith murmured in a low, sweet voice:</p> + +<p>“Say something, Frank.”</p> + +<p>He knew what she meant. They both +bowed their heads. Frank spoke tremblingly:</p> + +<p>“God, be in our homes, be in our hearts, +forever and ever. Amen.”</p> + +<p>That evening they walked out in the +Park, out in the warm darkness and under +lustrous stars. How candid they could be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> +with one another! How much they shared +in secret! What dreams they could give +each other!</p> + +<p>Mornings came—they rose laughingly, +they breakfasted, Edith kissed her husband +good-by, and waved to him from the window. +Evening returned—she heard his +step, his whistle, she flew to his arms. He +told her the day’s news; they took supper; +they washed the dishes together; and then +they sat and talked, or flooded the rooms +with phonograph music, or read the evening +papers, or went over their accounts, or +walked in the Park.</p> + +<p>They were living a beautiful idyl that +seemed endless. Quarrels came, too; sharp +words, astonishing both; then tears and +kisses and hours all the sweeter for the +healing and the blessing of love.</p> + +<p>Edith became a wonderful manager and +Frank declared laughingly that two could +live on less than one. But, among the poor, +it is always the woman who makes both ends +meet. What a world of work—to figure on +chops and potatoes and flour and coffee and +butter—on gas and coal—on necessities and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span> +luxuries. Every Saturday night Frank +handed over an unopened pay-envelope. +Edith gave him an allowance, and saved +out of the remainder.</p> + +<p>“We must save—save—save!” she cried, +knowing well enough why.</p> + +<p>One trip Frank made in Pennsylvania, +and those ten days nearly broke their hearts. +Then, by good fortune, he secured a city job +and had to travel no more. Their happiness +was complete.</p> + +<p>And so, as the months glided on the last +shadow of doubt and dread passed from +Frank’s mind. Edith was healthy and +happy. The Doctor had had good intentions, +but he was mistaken: that was the +only explanation. Frank thanked his stars +time and again that he had not followed +the Doctor’s advice. All was well, all was +well! He never spoke the Doctor’s name +in Edith’s hearing, and as for Edith, she +had forgotten the Rasts entirely. They +were lost with the old life in the Ghetto. +In this freer, fresher life there was no room +for Rasts. For if she did for a moment +glance back and remember her old Ideal<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span> +and the talk with Nell, she laughed away +the memory with her vanished girlhood.</p> + +<p>No word came from them, either. The +brothers had moved to a boarding house +and doubtless the Rasts did not know what +had become of the family, and were far +too busy to find out. One can move round +the corner in the city and be as lost as in +remote jungles.</p> + +<p>And so the months flew. How time does +really fly, lopping off the months, telescoping +the years, till, suddenly all the world +has changed, old faces gone, new generations +upon us, and we ourselves hobbling +into mystery! The months flew; the happy +marriage deepened; more and more familiar +and common were the days, sweeter and +realer the relationship. Edith was a +woman now, sweet, gentle, mirthful, and +busy. Her faults were rather limitations +than blemishes. So far as she went, she was +all that a woman can be. But she went no +further—stopping short of many worlds of +thought and action. It was not through +lack of possibilities in her nature, but rather +her sweet compromise with the nature of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> +her husband. She keyed herself to his +pitch; she met him on equal ground; she +came down and enjoyed life with him.</p> + +<p>As for Frank, he was attentive, thoughtful, +manly in his own way. He never forgot +to bring home the little things that delight +a woman; he never preferred others +before Edith. He worshipped and was +proud of his wife.</p> + +<p>Then the processes of Nature, vast, miraculous, +mysterious, entered into their lives +again. Nature not long leaves us to ourselves. +One night, late, with the light low, +as Edith sat on her husband’s lap, laughing +strangely, eyes shining, tears glittering, she +told him.</p> + +<p>“Frank.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear.”</p> + +<p>“I think——”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>She blushed.</p> + +<p>“I think”—she hid her head in his shoulder—“I +think a little new Lasser is coming!”</p> + +<p>A wild thrill went through him.</p> + +<p>“A child! Ours!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>So the wonder of Fatherhood and Motherhood +awoke in them.</p> + +<p>Tender he was with her through the long +time, while our great Mother, Nature, was +busy with her divine processes. Now Edith +would sit and stitch and stitch at sweet little +baby-clothes—her eyes shining, her +cheeks flushed, her heart beating to the +music of the great Mother. How laughingly +she brooded on little hands and feet, +and imaged out of the air a darling face, a +face like her husband’s! How hard she +tried to think good thoughts, to speak and +act divinely. She wanted to be a good +woman ... oh, how good ... that +the child might be good ... that later +she might be a good Mother, and help to +create a good man or woman. New powers +awoke in her; her face took on a new gravity, +a deeper beauty. There was more +meaning there. One read there more of life.</p> + +<p>One night she spoke of what Doctor they +should have.</p> + +<p>“Could we have Dr. Rast?”</p> + +<p>Frank felt a pang of fear.</p> + +<p>“Tut! no! He’s too far off, Edith. We<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> +must have someone in the neighborhood!”</p> + +<p>“You’re sure?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think he’d want to do it.”</p> + +<p>“We could ask him.”</p> + +<p>He spoke with a touch of anger.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like him, anyway, Edith. I’d +rather you had someone here.”</p> + +<p>“Whom could we have?”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you have a midwife? Everyone +else has.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t like them.”</p> + +<p>“Why not? You know they cost less. +Why, it’s nothing. It’s because it’s your +first, Edith. Babies are born every day.”</p> + +<p>For days the argument continued, off and +on. Edith finally consented.</p> + +<p>As the time grew near, she had her fears—secret +fears, known to all women. Her +pain, too, she had, nobly borne, quietly concealed. +But pain was to be expected. +Nothing is created in this world without +struggle and pain.</p> + +<p>And so the seasons flew, winter gave way +to spring, spring to summer, summer to autumn, +and the autumn grew red and golden. +It was the time of Indian summer.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII<br> + +<small>INDIAN SUMMER</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">IT was the time of Indian Summer. +Mild was the night; a night golden +with harvest and fruition. Frank at +the window saw the blood-red harvest moon, +saw it rise across the heavens, saw +it sink low and large and disappear.</p> + +<p>He was in his coat-sleeves; not for a moment +could he sit still, but wandered like a +caged tiger up and down, up and down. +At times he was crazy with suspense. He +listened at the closed door, and the tears +ran down his face. The young wife was +fighting bravely; hardly a groan escaped +her; but the little noise cut his heart as +with a knife-blade. He would hurry to the +window and lean out into the night. Blood-red +was that harvest moon! He watched +it, and thought of the harvest in the far +fields, and of the human harvest here.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>As the night wore on, silence deepened +and deepened. Suddenly, standing still, he +seemed to feel the room full of a Presence, +a Power: it swept about him: he was +steeped in it. Was it God? Was it God +at his mighty labors? Was it God creating +new life on this planet?</p> + +<p>Slowly went the hours; higher and +higher climbed the blood-red moon; lower +and lower it sank. He listened and waited; +he walked; he tried to read; he flung down +the book; he stood at the closed door; he +pulled off his collar; he opened a deck of +cards and tried to play solitaire. Nothing +helped him; the Power was there, at work; +he could not shake it off. Steeped in it was +his soul. Oh, the divine mystery! Oh, miracle +of reproduction—out of a seed a human +being; out of a cell a Shakespeare or +a Wagner; out of a microscopic particle +such wonders as we are.</p> + +<p>Awe filled him; and pity. A soft pity +for women, who are called upon to bear the +pain of the wonder, to pay with their agony +for the miracle. A soft pity for the young +wife, so young, so sweet, so happy. Why<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> +did she have to suffer this night? He gazed +out at the harvest moon, which shone unperturbed +on the still and fruitful Earth.</p> + +<p>All of the mystery of existence, the mystery +of being a human being, of being born +and of dying, went to his heart. He returned +to the center of the room. He could +not bear to be alone. He waited and +watched, he listened, he stood at the closed +door. Would the ordeal never be ended? +How long must this last?</p> + +<p>And then he leaned out again. The moon +was gone. White and trembling arose the +sweet dawn; birds were somewhere singing +in the soft darkness; a smell of earth +came to his nostrils on rising wind. Dawn! +dawn was rising!</p> + +<p>He stood back; a thrill went through his +heart. He felt the time was at hand. And +then suddenly in the silence rose a great +cry—the cry of the Mother. He felt faint; +he gasped; put his hand to his dripping +forehead; cried out:</p> + +<p>“God! God!”</p> + +<p>And leaned on the back of a chair.</p> + +<p>The door opened; the fat, red-faced midwife<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span> +came out. In her arms was something +tiny, carefully wrapped. Frank was breathless, +almost afraid. He stepped over. He +spoke in an awed whisper:</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“It’s a girl, Mr. Lasser.”</p> + +<p>A girl! He gazed down at the tiny face. +It was real, it was living, it was his own +baby, his own child. Suddenly his eyes +swam in tears; he crumpled up in a chair, +and sobbed, sobbed brokenly.</p> + +<p>A little while later the midwife called +him.</p> + +<p>“She wants to see you a moment.”</p> + +<p>He staggered in; the tremulous light of +dawn lay on the room; and in the bed the +Mother with the sleeping babe in her arms. +Frank leaned near, Edith smiled wanly.</p> + +<p>“Father!” she whispered.</p> + +<p>He thrilled and thrilled.</p> + +<p>“Mother!”</p> + +<p>Their lips met.</p> + +<p>“Our baby,” said Edith, “our little girl; +our little daughter!”</p> + +<p>What miracle is greater than this: to have +a child?</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII<br> + +<small>THE HARVEST</small></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">DOCTOR RAST had seen and heard +nothing of Edith and Frank and +had forgotten all about them. It +was a crowded year and a half—there was +much sickness with the changing seasons, +and the months for him fled, too. Once or +twice he had remembered that Frank was +to return, but as no word came from him, +he had let the matter drop. More important +matters, people nearer and dearer to +him, had to be attended to. Nell had often +thought of Edith, inquired about her, and +heard nothing. She had asked the Doctor, +but he was ignorant as she. So she wondered +in silence.</p> + +<p>Then on a snowy Sunday afternoon +Frank came in. The Doctor had been reading +his medical journal, and his mind was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span> +very busy. But when he flung back the +door, and saw Frank, he woke sharply:</p> + +<p>“You? Frank Lasser?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I want to see you.”</p> + +<p>“Come in.”</p> + +<p>Frank came into the cozy office, which +was very white with the snow-light outside, +and was very snug and warm. The Doctor +noticed that Frank’s face was drawn and +touched by wrinkles. Frank slouched +wearily into the office, and sat down in the +armchair.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the Doctor, “been away?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“No? What then?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“<i>I’m married!</i>”</p> + +<p>The Doctor felt a great shock smite his +heart. He leaned nearer.</p> + +<p>“Married?”</p> + +<p>Frank smiled feebly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Doctor, I’m married.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor’s face looked terrible at that +moment—black and stern and forbidding.</p> + +<p>“You married Edith, Frank?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>Frank spoke in a low voice:</p> + +<p>“Yes—Edith.” Then in self-defense. “I +had to, Doctor. You don’t understand, but +I had to. I couldn’t stand it. I took the +risks. I had to marry her. I’m a human +being. Anyway, I didn’t believe what you +told me.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor could not believe his own +ears. He reproached himself bitterly for +not having kept track of Edith. His heart +seemed to be smothered.</p> + +<p>“But at least tell me, Frank,” he said +with something of a sharp groan, “that you +haven’t any child.”</p> + +<p>Frank’s voice came on a sob.</p> + +<p>“No. I have a child.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor spoke with the edge of a +knife-blade:</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you call me in?”</p> + +<p>“Oh—you—you see you made such a +row——”</p> + +<p>The Doctor broke in angrily:</p> + +<p>“Then why do you come now?”</p> + +<p>Frank said nothing.</p> + +<p>“Why do you come?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>The young father spoke humbly, simply—from +his heart:</p> + +<p>“Doctor, my little girl; she’s a month +old. I want you to come and look at her—her +eyes——”</p> + +<p>The Doctor gave him a strange look. He +spoke slowly, with a great effort, for he felt +his heart tightening with dreadful pain:</p> + +<p>“At the birth—did the doctor put drops +in the child’s eyes?”</p> + +<p>Frank gasped, and looked frightened.</p> + +<p>“Doctor? We had a midwife. No—she +didn’t do it. Why didn’t you tell me this +that night?”</p> + +<p>The Doctor stifled a groan.</p> + +<p>“Because you had no right to marry +Edith. And you promised to come again. +Frank,” he raised his voice, he lifted his +hands, “you went into this with eyes open.”</p> + +<p>Frank’s lips parted. He spoke slowly, in +a dead voice:</p> + +<p>“Does this help now, Doctor? It’s done; +ain’t it? Are you coming to see the kid?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the Doctor quietly, “I’m coming.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>Frank arose, bowed his head—he was a +man humbled now—and spoke in a sob:</p> + +<p>“I—I want to beg your pardon, Doctor. +You’ll never understand how it happened. +But it did, and maybe—maybe I ought to +be forgiven.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor rose with heart softened; he +drew Frank close:</p> + +<p>“I was only thinking of Edith, Frank! +Come! We will go to her!”</p> + +<p>He put on hat and coat and they stepped +out into the soft white fall of snow. The +fresh carpet on the pavement was black +here and there with the indent of footprints, +the red-brick houses had white sills +and copings, the horse-cars came through +a swirl of white and people hurried past +muffled to the eyes. Autumn was gone; the +winter of the earth had come. The Doctor +walked close beside Frank.</p> + +<p>“I want to tell you something,” said +Frank.</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“About Edith.”</p> + +<p>“How is she?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>“Oh—she’s not well.”</p> + +<p>“Gets dizzy?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Backache?”</p> + +<p>“She’s in pain all the time.”</p> + +<p>“Broken up?”</p> + +<p>“She’s not herself,” his voice broke, “she’s +not what she used to be. She’s not so beautiful +any more.”</p> + +<p>Poor wild-rose! The Doctor’s eyes filled. +He spoke huskily:</p> + +<p>“Does she know what’s the matter with +her?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Or the baby?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor gripped Frank’s arm:</p> + +<p>“Then, Frank, you’re going to do the +manly thing. You’re going to tell her. +Otherwise she’ll reproach herself—she’ll +think she had no right to marry—she’ll +think she’s a burden on you.”</p> + +<p>Frank did not speak for a moment; but +then the agony of the last month, the +frightful remorse, the black hours, spoke in +his voice:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>“I’ll do anything for Edith—anything +in this world”—he went on bitterly—“now +that it’s too late.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor could say nothing. But as +they rode uptown in silence he remembered +the wild-rose of that enchanted April. Oh, +the tragedy of life, the blighting of the +blossoms, the crushing out of possibilities! +Why did this have to be? His heart ached +for the young mother. He longed to have +superhuman power that he might set right +the wrong of this world. He felt helpless +and impotent. He felt as if he were rushing +to the close of a ghastly tragedy. He +felt as if all life broke in his hands and +lay in ruins about him. With thoughts in +a mad whirl, he climbed the three flights +of stairs with Frank, and they walked into +the pleasant parlor. At the window in a +deep armchair, cushioned with a pillow, +Edith was half lying. The Doctor stopped. +His heart seemed twisted out of his breast. +For was this the wild-rose? Was this sweet +Edith—Edith of seventeen, laughing and +blushing in early April? She was white-faced, +thin, her eyes large and haunted by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span> +pain and trouble, her forehead puckered +and quick at twitching, her lips dry and +pulled down over her teeth. But it was the +eyes mainly—so large and mournful, +ringed with darkness, and very patient. +The Doctor felt as a father that looked +down on his dead child. How could the +Power of this world permit such a thing? +Poor blighted wild-rose.</p> + +<p>She looked up with surprise.</p> + +<p>“Doctor!”</p> + +<p>A flush of pleasure came to her cheeks.</p> + +<p>“Edith! Edith!” he cried, clasping her +hand; “Edith!”</p> + +<p>“He’s come to look at the baby,” said +Frank, twisting his derby through his +hands.</p> + +<p>Edith gave a low cry:</p> + +<p>“The baby!” She tried to rise, and +added sharply; “where’s the baby—where +is she? Oh!” She put her hand on her +heart.</p> + +<p>The baby was in the little crib beside +her, quietly stirring its hands and feet.</p> + +<p>The Doctor smiled sadly: “Edith! It’s +always good to watch a growing baby.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> +Frank’s quite right. But how you’ve +changed! What a woman you are!”</p> + +<p>Tears sprang to her eyes.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know, Doctor,” she said +quietly, in a way that cut his heart. “I +don’t seem much of anything good.”</p> + +<p>She smiled piteously, and the Doctor +could hardly see. So this was the end of +the enchantment, the sweet girlhood, the +sacred marriage. He tried with all his soul +to comfort her.</p> + +<p>“But you have a little living baby, Edith—that’s +worth every trouble, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Ah,” she said, with all the naiveness of +a young mother, “did you ever see anything +so sweet? Just look at her, just look! I +watch her all day, my little Emily. I wish +my mother could see her.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” murmured the Doctor, “yes.”</p> + +<p>Edith smiled piteously:</p> + +<p>“Poor little thing! See how sore her eyes +are.” She leaned forward, pleadingly. +“But it doesn’t matter, does it? The midwife +said they’d be all right in a few weeks, +anyhow.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>She gazed up at the Doctor, her eyes +wide with question.</p> + +<p>But the Doctor did not answer. He +looked away, delaying almost instinctively +the fatal moment. He felt as if he could +not look. He felt as if he could not look. +His pulse missed a beat, his blood surged +up about his temples. Then, slowly, he +leaned close over the crib. Frank came +very near, slightly stooped, and watched +with haggard eyes. The Doctor searchingly +examined the tiny face. Then he +slowly, and with shaking fingers drew the +swollen lids apart, and looked in.</p> + +<p>He stood up straight then, and all the +pathos and tragedy of life seemed to go +through him like a dreadful night. What +could he say? What if this were his own +child? He stood a moment looking down +at Edith, his face lighted with struggling +pity and love.</p> + +<p>Edith spoke quaintly:</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think she’s very, very lovely?”</p> + +<p>The Doctor’s voice was almost inaudible, +and pure with divine tenderness.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>“Yes. She is more lovely than ever I +have seen in my life—Edith!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Doctor.”</p> + +<p>“You must be a good mother to her.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Doctor.”</p> + +<p>“You must be twice a mother to her.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Doctor.”</p> + +<p>“Because,” he said slowly, “she needs you +twice as much as other children need mothers.”</p> + +<p>Frank bowed his head to his doom. +Edith’s eyes changed strangely, filling with +a wild light.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Doctor?”</p> + +<p>How soft his voice was, how tender:</p> + +<p>“I mean—little Emily isn’t like other +children. She hasn’t any pain, but it’s a +trouble just the same.”</p> + +<p>Edith felt lightning strike her; she sat +forward.</p> + +<p>“Doctor!—<i>Doctor!</i> Tell me what’s the +matter with the baby!”</p> + +<p>He leaned, put a hand on her shoulder, +and while his heart seemed to wither within +him, spoke very gently:</p> + +<p>“Edith—the baby is blind.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>Edith rose up, rose straight up. She +gave a wild, strangling cry:</p> + +<p>“Blind? Blind? Emmy blind?—Good +God! Good God!”</p> + +<p>She leaped to the crib, the Doctor making +way for her, she snatched up the child, +and stared at it.</p> + +<p>“Emmy blind? Good God! My heart! +My heart! Emmy!”</p> + +<p>The little one whimpered plaintively. +Then slowly—a weird and terrible sight—the +mother passed her finger before the +baby’s eyes, fluttered the ribbon of her +sleeve above the tiny face, stared nearer +and nearer like one possessed. Suddenly +she put the child down, stretched out her +arms, and shrieked. It was a cry as when +the child was born. Frank sank on a chair, +groaning. The Doctor seized her arms, +and whispering, “Edith! Edith!” pushed +her into the chair again. She leaned forward +staring at the Doctor. He stood, eyes +half-closed, and pain and pity on his face.</p> + +<p>“Edith,” he said quietly, “think how +Emmy needs you—and will always need +you!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>Edith clenched her fist, looked up, and +shook it.</p> + +<p>“God,” she cried hoarsely, “you punished +us—we were too happy. I hate you, God, +I hate you. Make a baby blind! I hate +you!”</p> + +<p>Was it the wild-rose speaking?</p> + +<p>Then in the awful silence, Frank arose. +The time had come; the great moment had +arrived. His face was ashen, writhing with +agony. He began in a low voice:</p> + +<p>“No, Edith, it wasn’t God. It was a +human being. Maybe it usually is. It was +I, Edith.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor looked at him sharply. The +dreadful words fell on Edith’s torn heart, +and she gasped.</p> + +<p>“You?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he went on quietly, “I. Before I +married you I sowed my wild oats. I went +around with women. And then I got into +trouble. I went to the Doctor and he told +me not to marry for a while. He told me +what might happen—about you” his voice +broke—“and the baby. I honestly meant to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> +tell you and go away. That’s why I went +up to the country to see you.”</p> + +<p>Edith breathed sharply, the revelation +pouring light into her mind.</p> + +<p>“Edith,” he stood sobbing, “what could +I do? Do you remember? How could I +help having you? Oh, I was so sure the +Doctor was mistaken! I was so sure I was +all right. Edith!” he cried sharply; “I +loved you too much, and now,” his shoulders +wrenched coarse sobs, “what have I +done? What have I done?”</p> + +<p>He threw up his hands, sank at her feet, +buried his head in her lap.</p> + +<p>“Mother! Mother! I ought to be killed! +Forgive me! Forgive me!”</p> + +<p>Edith looked from side to side, and kept +moistening her lips.</p> + +<p>And then the Doctor’s voice came, came +as if he could not speak for utter love:</p> + +<p>“Children—Edith, Frank. What’s done +is done. And the worst has been done that +can be. Take up your lives as they are, +and use them well. There is still love—you +have one another. Make up for your +losses with more love, purer love; for in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> +our poor human world that is the only +healer. Oh, give each other that, give each +other much of that.”</p> + +<p>He paused.</p> + +<p>“Edith”—he leaned near—“love him +enough to forgive him. He has made a +clean breast of it. He loved you enough +for that.”</p> + +<p>Edith did not stir.</p> + +<p>“Edith—he is your husband.”</p> + +<p>Again there was silence, and the Doctor +spoke sweetly:</p> + +<p>“As for that little child—much can be +done. And possibly in the years to come +little new children will laugh in this +house, play about here on the floor, cling +to your knees. Oh, take up your lives, take +them up, and go on to what human glories +there are. Frank—Edith!”</p> + +<p>Again there was silence.</p> + +<p>“Edith.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Forgive him, even as a mother forgives +her only child.”</p> + +<p>Then suddenly Edith lifted the low head, +lifted it, put her arms out and drew his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> +body toward her, and kissed and kissed his +face, and both sobbed brokenly, heart-brokenly +together.</p> + +<p>“Edith!”</p> + +<p>“Frank!”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she sobbed, “Frank—husband—why +didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you +trust me?”</p> + +<p>“Mother,” he cried, “forgive me!”</p> + +<p>“Ah,” she murmured, “what else can I +do? I need you—I need you so much!”</p> + +<p>“Edith!” Then he spoke low: “Hereafter +I will never hide anything.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor murmured gently:</p> + +<p>“Now, indeed, you are truly married. +Now you are man and wife.”</p> + +<p>And he passed out into the storm. And +as he wiped at his eyes he muttered:</p> + +<p>“When will the young men understand?”</p> + +<p>And then again:</p> + +<p>“Yes—the women—they always get the +raw end of the deal.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>And up in the little parlor into two +broken hearts the first rays of perfect marriage<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span> +stole, not without a touch of glory, +not without a touch of victory.</p> + +<p>But the little blind baby said nothing, +but lay there. Blighted was our wild-rose, +our sweet Seventeen; sightless her first-born. +The sowing was of wild oats; and +this was the harvest.</p> + +<p class="center">THE END.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + +<p>Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> +</div></div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75552 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75552-h/images/cover.jpg b/75552-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c3377ab --- /dev/null +++ b/75552-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/75552-h/images/coversmall.jpg b/75552-h/images/coversmall.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4924164 --- /dev/null +++ b/75552-h/images/coversmall.jpg diff --git a/75552-h/images/title_page.jpg b/75552-h/images/title_page.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e209b2 --- /dev/null +++ b/75552-h/images/title_page.jpg |
