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@@ -0,0 +1,7386 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man Between, by Amelia E. Barr + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Man Between + +Author: Amelia E. Barr + +Posting Date: July 31, 2008 [EBook #787] +Release Date: January, 1997 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN BETWEEN *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Keller + + + + + +THE MAN BETWEEN + +An International Romance + +By Amelia E. Barr + + + + +PART FIRST -- O LOVE WILL VENTURE IN! + + + + +THE MAN BETWEEN + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE thing that I know least about is my beginning. For it is possible +to introduce Ethel Rawdon in so many picturesque ways that the choice +is embarrassing, and forces me to the conclusion that the actual +circumstances, though commonplace, may be the most suitable. Certainly +the events that shape our lives are seldom ushered in with pomp or +ceremony; they steal upon us unannounced, and begin their work without +giving any premonition of their importance. + +Consequently Ethel had no idea when she returned home one night from +a rather stupid entertainment that she was about to open a new and +important chapter of her life. Hitherto that life had been one of the +sweetest and simplest character--the lessons and sports of childhood +and girlhood had claimed her nineteen years; and Ethel was just at that +wonderful age when, the brook and the river having met, she was feeling +the first swell of those irresistible tides which would carry her day by +day to the haven of all days. + +It was Saturday night in the January of 1900, verging toward twelve +o'clock. When she entered her room, she saw that one of the windows was +open, and she stood a moment or two at it, looking across the straight +miles of white lights, in whose illumined shadows thousands of sleepers +were holding their lives in pause. + +"It is not New York at all," she whispered, "it is some magical city +that I have seen, but have never trod. It will vanish about six o'clock +in the morning, and there will be only common streets, full of common +people. Of course," and here she closed the window and leisurely removed +her opera cloak, "of course, this is only dreaming, but to dream waking, +or to dream sleeping, is very pleasant. In dreams we can have men as we +like them, and women as we want them, and make all the world happy and +beautiful." + +She was in no hurry of feeling or movement. She had been in a crowd for +some hours, and was glad to be quite alone and talk to herself a little. +It was also so restful to gradually relinquish all the restraining gauds +of fashionable attire, and as she leisurely performed these duties, she +entered into conversation with her own heart--talked over with it the +events of the past week, and decided that its fretless days, full of +good things, had been, from the beginning to the end, sweet as a cup of +new milk. For a woman's heart is very talkative, and requires little to +make it eloquent in its own way. + +In the midst of this intimate companionship she turned her head, and +saw two letters lying upon a table. She rose and lifted them. One was an +invitation to a studio reception, and she let it flutter indeterminately +from her hand; the other was both familiar and appealing; none of her +correspondents but Dora Denning used that peculiar shade of blue paper, +and she instantly began to wonder why Dora had written to her. + +"I saw her yesterday afternoon," she reflected, "and she told me +everything she had to tell--and what does she-mean by such a tantalizing +message as this? 'Dearest Ethel: I have the most extraordinary news. +Come to me immediately. Dora.' How exactly like Dora!" she commented. +"Come to me im-mediately--whether you are in bed or asleep--whether +you are sick or well--whether it is midnight or high noon--come to +me immediately. Well, Dora, I am going to sleep now, and to-morrow is +Sunday, and I never know what view father is going to take of Sunday. He +may ask me to go to church with him, and he may not. He may want me to +drive in the afternoon, and again he may not; but Sunday is father's +home day, and Ruth and I make a point of obliging him in regard to it. +That is one of our family principles; and a girl ought to have a few +principles of conduct involving self-denial. Aunt Ruth says, 'Life +cannot stand erect without self-denial,' and aunt is usually right--but +I do wonder what Dora wants! I cannot imagine what extraordinary news +has come. I must try and see her to-morrow--it may be difficult--but I +must make the effort"--and with this satisfying resolution she easily +fell asleep. + +When she awoke the church bells were ringing and she knew that her +father and aunt would have breakfasted. The feet did not trouble her. It +was an accidental sleep-over; she had not planned it, and circumstances +would take care of themselves. In any case, she had no fear of rebuke. +No one was ever cross with Ethel. It was a matter of pretty general +belief that whatever Ethel did was just right. So she dressed herself +becomingly in a cloth suit, and, with her plumed hat on her head, went +down to see what the day had to offer her. + +"The first thing is coffee, and then, all being agreeable, Dora. I shall +not look further ahead," she thought. + +As she entered the room she called "Good morning!" and her voice was +like the voice of the birds when they call "Spring!"; and her face was +radiant with smiles, and the touch of her lips and the clasp of her hand +warm with love and life; and her father and aunt forgot that she was +late, and that her breakfast was yet to order. + +She took up the reproach herself. "I am so sorry, Aunt Ruth. I only want +a cup of coffee and a roll." + +"My dear, you cannot go without a proper breakfast. Never mind the hour. +What would you like best?" + +"You are so good, Ruth. I should like a nice breakfast--a breast of +chicken and mushrooms, and some hot muffins and marmalade would do. +How comfortable you look here! Father, you are buried in newspapers. Is +anyone going to church?" + +Ruth ordered the desired breakfast and Mr. Rawdon took out his watch--"I +am afraid you have delayed us too long this morning, Ethel." + +"Am I to be the scapegoat? Now, I do not believe anyone wanted to go to +church. Ruth had her book, you, the newspapers. It is warm and pleasant +here, it is cold and windy outside. I know what confession would be +made, if honesty were the fashion." + +"Well, my little girl, honesty is the fashion in this house. I believe +in going to church. Religion is the Mother of Duty, and we should all +make a sad mess of life without duty. Is not that so, Ruth?" + +"Truth itself, Edward; but religion is not going to church and listening +to sermons. Those who built the old cathedrals of Europe had no idea +that sitting in comfortable pews and listening to some man talking was +worshiping God. Those great naves were intended for men and women to +stand or kneel in before God. And there were no high or low standing +or kneeling places; all were on a level before Him. It is our modern +Protestantism which has brought in lazy lolling in cushioned pews; and +the gallery, which makes a church as like a playhouse as possible!" + +"What are you aiming at, Ruth?" + +"I only meant to say, I would like going to church much better if we +went solely to praise God, and entreat His mercy. I do not care to hear +sermons." + +"My dear Ruth, sermons are a large fact in our social economy. When a +million or two are preached every year, they have a strong claim on +our attention. To use a trade phrase, sermons are firm, and I believe a +moderate tax on them would yield an astonishing income." + +"See how you talk of them, Edward; as if they were a commercial +commodity. If you respected them----" + +"I do. I grant them a steady pneumatic pressure in the region of morals, +and even faith. Picture to yourself, Ruth, New York without sermons. The +dear old city would be like a ship without ballast, heeling over with +every wind, and letting in the waters of immorality and scepticism. +Remove this pulpit balance just for one week from New York City, and +where should we be?" + +"Well then," said Ethel, "the clergy ought to give New York a first-rate +article in sermons, either of home or foreign manufacture. New York +expects the very best of everything; and when she gets it, she opens her +heart and her pocketbook enjoys it, and pays for it." + +"That is the truth, Ethel. I was thinking of your grandmother Rawdon. +You have your hat on--are you going to see her?" + +"I am going to see Dora Denning. I had an urgent note from her last +night. She says she has 'extraordinary news' and begs me to 'come to +her immediately.' I cannot imagine what her news is. I saw her Friday +afternoon." + +"She has a new poodle, or a new lover, or a new way of crimping her +hair," suggested Ruth Bayard scornfully. "She imposes on you, Ethel; why +do you submit to her selfishness?" + +"I suppose because I have become used to it. Four years ago I began +to take her part, when the girls teased and tormented her in the +schoolroom, and I have big-sistered her ever since. I suppose we get to +love those who make us kind and give us trouble. Dora is not perfect, +but I like her better than any friend I have. And she must like me, for +she asks my advice about everything in her life." + +"Does she take it?" + +"Yes--generally. Sometimes I have to make her take it." + +"She has a mother. Why does she not go to her?" + +"Mrs. Denning knows nothing about certain subjects. I am Dora's social +godmother, and she must dress and behave as I tell her to do. Poor Mrs. +Denning! I am so sorry for her--another cup of coffee, Ruth--it is not +very strong." + +"Why should you be sorry for Mrs. Denning, Her husband is enormously +rich--she lives in a palace, and has a crowd of men and women servants +to wait upon her--carriages, horses, motor cars, what not, at her +command." + +"Yet really, Ruth, she is a most unhappy woman. In that little Western +town from which they came, she was everybody. She ran the churches, and +was chairwoman in all the clubs, and President of the Temperance Union, +and manager of every religious, social, and political festival; and her +days were full to the brim of just the things she liked to do. Her dress +there was considered magnificent; people begged her for patterns, and +regarded her as the very glass of fashion. Servants thought it a great +privilege to be employed on the Denning place, and she ordered her house +and managed her half-score of men and maids with pleasant autocracy. +NOW! Well, I will tell you how it is, NOW. She sits all day in her +splendid rooms, or rides out in her car or carriage, and no one knows +her, and of course no one speaks to her. Mr. Denning has his Wall Street +friends----" + +"And enemies," interrupted Judge Rawdon. + +"And enemies! You are right, father. But he enjoys one as much as the +other--that is, he would as willingly fight his enemies as feast his +friends. He says a big day in Wall Street makes him alive from head to +foot. He really looks happy. Bryce Denning has got into two clubs, and +his money passes him, for he plays, and is willing to love prudently. +But no one cares about Mrs. Denning. She is quite old--forty-five, I +dare say; and she is stout, and does not wear the colors and style she +ought to wear--none of her things have the right 'look,' and of course +I cannot advise a matron. Then, her fine English servants take her house +out of her hands. She is afraid of them. The butler suavely tries to +inform her; the housekeeper removed the white crotcheted scarfs +and things from the gilded chairs, and I am sure Mrs. Denning had a +heartache about their loss; but she saw that they had also vanished from +Dora's parlor, so she took the hint, and accepted the lesson. Really, +her humility and isolation are pitiful. I am going to ask grandmother +to go and see her. Grandmother might take her to church, and get Dr. +Simpson and Mrs. Simpson to introduce her. Her money and adaptability +would do the rest. There, I have had a good breakfast, though I was +late. It is not always the early bird that gets chicken and mushrooms. +Now I will go and see what Dora wants"--and lifting her furs with a +smile, and a "Good morning!" equally charming, she disappeared. + +"Did you notice her voice, Ruth?" asked Judge Rawdon. "What a tone there +is in her 'good morning!'" + +"There is a tone in every one's good morning, Edward. I think people's +salutations set to music would reveal their inmost character. Ethel's +good morning says in D major 'How good is the day!' and her good +night drops into the minor third, and says pensively 'How sweet is the +night!'" + +"Nay, Ruth, I don't understand all that; but I do understand the voice. +It goes straight to my heart." + +"And to my heart also, Edward. I think too there is a measured music, +a central time and tune, in every life. Quick, melodious natures like +Ethel's never wander far from their keynote, and are therefore joyously +set; while slow, irresolute people deviate far, and only come back after +painful dissonances and frequent changes." + +"You are generally right, Ruth, even where I cannot follow you. I hope +Ethel will be home for dinner. I like my Sunday dinner with both of you, +and I may bring my mother back with me." + +Then he said "Good morning" with an intentional cheerfulness, and Ruth +was left alone with her book. She gave a moment's thought to the value +of good example, and then with a sigh of content let her eyes rest on +the words Ethel's presence had for awhile silenced: + +"I am filled with a sense of sweetness and wonder that such, little +things can make a mortal so exceedingly rich. But I confess that the +chiefest of all my delights is still the religious." (Theodore Parker.) +She read the words again, then closed her eyes and let the honey of some +sacred memory satisfy her soul. And in those few minutes of reverie, +Ruth Bayard revealed the keynote of her being. Wanderings from it, +caused by the exigencies and duties of life, frequently occurred; but +she quickly returned to its central and controlling harmony; and +her serenity and poise were therefore as natural as was her niece's +joyousness and hope. Nor was her religious character the result of +temperament, or of a secluded life. Ruth Bayard was a woman of thought +and culture, and wise in the ways of the world, but not worldly. Her +personality was very attractive, she had a good form, an agreeable face, +speaking gray eyes, and brown hair, soft and naturally wavy. She was a +distant cousin of Ethel's mother, but had been brought up with her in +the same household, and always regarded her as a sister, and Ethel never +remembered that she was only her aunt by adoption. Ten years older than +her niece, she had mothered her with a wise and loving patience, and +her thoughts never wandered long or far from the girl. Consequently, +she soon found herself wondering what reason there could be for Dora +Denning's urgency. + +In the meantime Ethel had reached her friend's residence a new building +of unusual size and very ornate architecture. Liveried footmen and +waiting women bowed her with mute attention to Miss Denning's suite, an +absolutely private arrangement of five rooms, marvelously furnished +for the young lady's comfort and delight. The windows of her parlor +overlooked the park, and she was standing at one of them as Ethel +entered the room. In a passion of welcoming gladness she turned to her, +exclaiming: "I have been watching for you hours and hours, Ethel. I have +the most wonderful thing to tell you. I am so happy! So happy! No one +was ever as happy as I am." + +Then Ethel took both her hands, and, as they stood together, she looked +intently at her friend. Some new charm transfigured her face; for her +dark, gazelle eyes were not more lambent than her cheeks, though in +a different way; while her black hair in its picturesquely arranged +disorder seemed instinct with life, and hardly to be restrained. She was +constantly pushing it back, caressing or arranging it; and her white, +slender fingers, sparkling with jewels, moved among the crimped and wavy +locks, as if there was an intelligent sympathy between them. + +"How beautiful you are to-day, Dora! Who has worked wonders on you?" + +"Basil Stanhope. He loves me! He loves me! He told me so last night--in +the sweetest words that were ever uttered. I shall never forget one +of them--never, as long as I live! Let us sit down. I want to tell you +everything." + +"I am astonished, Dora!" + +"So was mother, and father, and Bryce. No one suspected our affection. +Mother used to grumble about my going 'at all hours' to St. Jude's +church; but that was because St. Jude's is so very High Church, and +mother is a Methodist Episcopal. It was the morning and evening prayers +she objected to. No one had any suspicion of the clergyman. Oh, Ethel, +he is so handsome! So good! So clever! I think every woman in the church +is in love with him." + +"Then if he is a good man, he must be very unhappy." + +"Of course he is quite ignorant of their admiration, and therefore quite +innocent. I am the only woman he loves, and he never even remembers me +when he is in the sacred office. If you could see him come out of the +vestry in his white surplice, with his rapt face and prophetic eyes. So +mystical! So beautiful! You would not wonder that I worship him." + +"But I do not understand--how did you meet him socially?" + +"I met him at Mrs. Taylor's first. Then he spoke to me one morning as I +came out of church, and the next morning he walked through the park with +me. And after that--all was easy enough." + +"I see. What does your father and mother think--or rather, what do they +say?" + +"Father always says what he thinks, and mother thinks and says what I +do. This condition simplified matters very much. Basil wrote to father, +and yesterday after dinner he had an interview with him. I expected +it, and was quite prepared for any climax that might come. I wore my +loveliest white frock, and had lilies of the valley in my hair and on +my breast; and father called me 'his little angel' and piously wondered +'how I could be his daughter.' All dinner time I tried to be angelic, +and after dinner I sang 'Little Boy Blue' and some of the songs he +loves; and I felt, when Basil's card came in, that I had prepared the +proper atmosphere for the interview." + +"You are really very clever, Dora." + +"I tried to continue singing and playing, but I could not; the notes all +ran together, the words were lost. I went to mother's side and put my +hand in hers, and she said softly: 'I can hear your father storming a +little, but he will settle down the quicker for it. I dare say he will +bring Mr. Stanhope in here before long." + +"Did he?" + +"No. That was Bryce's fault. How Bryce happened to be in the house at +that hour, I cannot imagine; but it seems to be natural for him to drop +into any interview where he can make trouble. However, it turned out all +for the best, for when mother heard Bryce's voice above all the other +sounds, she said, 'Come Dora, we shall have to interfere now.' Then +I was delighted. I was angelically dressed, and I felt equal to the +interview." + +"Do you really mean that you joined the three quarreling men?" + +"Of course. Mother was quite calm--calm enough to freeze a tempest--but +she gave father a look he comprehended. Then she shook hands with +Basil, and would have made some remark to Bryce, but with his usual +impertinence he took the initiative, and told he: very authoritatively +to 'retire and take me with her'--calling me that 'demure little flirt' +in a tone that was very offensive. You should have seen father blaze +into anger at his words. He told Bryce to remember that 'Mr. Ben Denning +owned the house, and that Bryce had four or five rooms in it by his +courtesy.' He said also that the 'ladies present were Mr. Ben Denning's +wife and daughter, and that it was impertinent in him to order them out +of his parlor, where they were always welcome.' Bryce was white with +passion, but he answered in his affected way--'Sir, that sly girl with +her pretended piety and her sneak of a lover is my sister, and I shall +not permit her to disgrace my family without making a protest.'" + +"And then?" + +"I began to cry, and I put my arms around father's neck and said he must +defend me; that I was not 'sly,' and Basil was not 'a sneak,' and father +kissed me, and said he would settle with any man, and every man, who +presumed to call me either sly or a flirt." + +"I think Mr. Denning acted beautifully. What did Bryce say?" + +"He turned to Basil, and said: 'Mr. Stanhope, if you are not a cad, you +will leave the house. You have no right to intrude yourself into family +affairs and family quarrels.' Basil had seated mother, and was +standing with one hand on the back of her chair, and he did not answer +Bryce--there was no need, father answered quick enough. He said Mr. +Stanhope had asked to become one of the family, and for his part he +would welcome him freely; and then he asked mother if she was of his +mind, and mother smiled and reached her hand backward to Basil. Then +father kissed me again, and somehow Basil's arm was round me, and I know +I looked lovely--almost like a bride! Oh, Ethel, it was just heavenly!" + +"I am sure it was. Did Bryce leave the room then?" + +"Yes; he went out in a passion, declaring he would never notice me +again. This morning at breakfast I said I was sorry Bryce felt so hurt, +but father was sure Bryce would find plenty of consolation in the fact +that his disapproval of my choice would excuse him from giving me a +wedding present. You know Bryce is a mean little miser!" + +"On the contrary, I thought he was very; luxurious and extravagant." + +"Where Bryce is concerned, yes; toward everyone else his conduct is too +mean to consider. Why, father makes him an allowance of $20,000 a year +and he empties father's cigar boxes whenever he can do so without----" + +"Let us talk about Mr. Stanhope he is far more interesting. When are you +going to marry him?" + +"In the Spring. Father is going to give me some money and I have the +fortune Grandmother Cahill left me. It has been well invested, and +father told me this morning I was a fairly rich little woman. Basil has +some private fortune, also his stipend--we shall do very well. Basil's +family is one of the finest among the old Boston aristocrats, and he is +closely connected with the English Stanhopes, who rank with the greatest +of the nobility." + +"I wish Americans would learn to rely on their own nobility. I am tired +of their everlasting attempts to graft on some English noble family. +No matter how great or clever a man may be, you are sure to read of his +descent from some Scottish chief or English earl." + +"They can't help their descent, Ethel." + +"They need not pin all they have done on to it. Often father frets me in +the same way. If he wins a difficult case, he does it naturally, because +he is a Rawdon. He is handsome, gentlemanly, honorable, even a perfect +horseman, all because, being a Rawdon, he was by nature and inheritance +compelled to such perfection. It is very provoking, Dora, and if I +were you I would not allow Basil to begin a song about 'the English +Stanhopes.' Aunt Ruth and I get very tired often of the English Rawdons, +and are really thankful for the separating Atlantic." + +"I don't think I shall feel in that way, Ethel. I like the nobility; so +does father, he says the Dennings are a fine old family." + +"Why talk of genealogies when there is such a man as Basil Stanhope to +consider? Let us grant him perfection and agree that he is to marry +you in the Spring; well then, there is the ceremony, and the wedding +garments! Of course it is to be a church wedding?" + +"We shall be married in Basil's own church. I can hardly eat or sleep +for thinking of the joy and the triumph of it! There will be women there +ready to eat their hearts with envy--I believe indeed, Ethel, that every +woman in the church is in love with Basil." + +"You have said that before, and I am sure you are wrong. A great many of +them are married and are in love with their own husbands; and the kind +of girls who go to St. Jude's are not the kind who marry clergymen. Mr. +Stanhope's whole income would hardly buy their gloves and parasols." + +"I don't think you are pleased that I am going to marry. You must not be +jealous of Basil. I shall love you just the same." + +"Under no conditions, Dora, would I allow jealousy to trouble my life. +All the same, you will not love me after your marriage as you have loved +me in the past. I shall not expect it." + +Passionate denials of this assertion, reminiscences of the past, +assurances for the future followed, and Ethel accepted them without +dispute and without faith. But she understood that the mere circumstance +of her engagement was all that Dora could manage at present; and +that the details of the marriage merged themselves constantly in the +wonderful fact that Basil Stanhope loved her, and that some time, not +far off, she was going to be his wife. This joyful certainty filled her +heart and her comprehension, and she had a natural reluctance to subject +it to the details of the social and religious ceremonies necessary, Such +things permitted others to participate in her joy, and she resented the +idea. For a time she wished to keep her lover in a world where no other +thought might trouble the thought of Dora. + +Ethel understood her friend's mood, and was rather relieved when her +carriage arrived. She felt that her presence was preventing Dora's +absolute surrender of herself to thoughts of her lover, and all the way +home she marveled at the girl's infatuation, and wondered if it would +be possible for her to fall into such a dotage of love for any man. She +answered this query positively--"No, if I should lose my heart, I shall +not therefore lose my head"--and then, before she could finish assuring +herself of her determinate wisdom, some mocking lines she had often +quoted to love-sick girls went laughing through her memory-- + + "O Woman! Woman! O our frail, frail sex! + No wonder tragedies are made from us! + Always the same--nothing but loves and cradles." + + +She found Ruth Bayard dressed for dinner, but her father was not +present. That was satisfactory, for he was always a little impatient +when the talk was of lovers and weddings; and just then this topic was +uppermost in Ethel's mind. + +"Ruth," she said, "Dora is engaged," and then in a few sentences she +told the little romance Dora had lived for the past year, and its happy +culmination. "Setting money aside, I think he will make a very suitable +husband. What do you think, Ruth?" + +"From what I know of Mr. Stanhope, I should doubt it. I am sure he +will put his duties before every earthly thing, and I am sure Dora will +object to that. Then I wonder if Dora is made on a pattern large enough +to be the moneyed partner in matrimony. I should think Mr. Stanhope was +a proud man." + +"Dora says he is connected with the English noble family of Stanhopes." + +"We shall certainly have all the connections of the English nobility in +America very soon now--but why does he marry Dora? Is it her money?" + +"I think not. I have heard from various sources some fine things of +Basil Stanhope. There are many richer girls than Dora in St. Jude's. I +dare say some one of them would have married him." + +"You are mistaken. Do you think Margery Starey, Jane Lewes, or any of +the girls of their order would marry a man with a few thousands a +year? And to marry for love is beyond the frontiers of such women's +intelligence. In their creed a husband is a banker, not a man to be +loved and cared for. You know how much of a banker Mr. Stanhope could +be." + +"Bryce Denning is very angry at what he evidently considers his sister's +mesalliance." + +"If Mr. Stanhope is connected with the English Stanhopes, the +mesalliance must be laid to his charge." + +"Indeed the Dennings have some pretenses to good lineage, and Bryce +spoke of his sister 'disgracing his family by her contemplated +marriage.'" + +"His family! My dear Ethel, his grandfather was a manufacturer of +tin tacks. And now that we have got as far away as the Denning's +grandfather, suppose we drop the subject." + +"Content; I am a little tired of the clan Denning--that is their +original name Dora says. I will go now and dress for dinner." + +Then Ruth rose and looked inquisitively around the room. It was as she +wished it to be--the very expression of elegant comfort--warm and light, +and holding the scent of roses: a place of deep, large chairs with no +odds and ends to worry about, a room to lounge and chat in, and where +the last touch of perfect home freedom was given by a big mastiff who, +having heard the door-bell ring, strolled in to see who had called. + + + +CHAPTER II + +DURING dinner both Ruth and Ethel were aware of some sub-interest in the +Judge's manner; his absent-mindedness was unusual, and once Ruth saw a +faint smile that nothing evident could have induced. Unconsciously also +he set a tone of constraint and hurry; the meal was not loitered over, +the conversation flagged, and all rose from the table with a sense of +relief; perhaps, indeed, with a feeling of expectation. + +They entered the parlor together, and the mastiff rose to meet them, +asking permission to remain with the little coaxing push of his nose +which brought the ready answer: + +"Certainly, Sultan. Make yourself comfortable." + +Then they grouped themselves round the fire, and the Judge lit his cigar +and looked at Ethel in a way that instantly brought curiosity to the +question: + +"You have a secret, father," she said. "Is it about grandmother?" + +"It is news rather than a secret, Ethel. And grandmother has a good deal +to do with it, for it is about her family--the Mostyns." + +"Oh!" + +The tone of Ethel's "Oh!" was not encouraging, and Ruth's look of +interest held in abeyance was just as chilling. But something like this +attitude had been expected, and Judge Rawdon was not discouraged by it; +he knew that youth is capable of great and sudden changes, and that its +ability to find reasonable motives for them is unlimited, so he calmly +continued: + +"You are aware that your grandmother's name before marriage was Rachel +Mostyn?" + +"I have seen it a thousand times at the bottom of her sampler, father, +the one that is framed and hanging in her morning room--Rachel Mostyn, +November, Anno Domini, 1827." + +"Very well. She married George Rawdon, and they came to New York in +1834. They had a pretty house on the Bowling Green and lived very +happily there. I was born in 1850, the youngest of their children. You +know that I sign my name Edward M. Rawdon; it is really Edward Mostyn +Rawdon." + +He paused, and Ruth said, "I suppose Mrs. Rawdon has had some news from +her old home?" + +"She had a letter last night, and I shall probably receive one +to-morrow. Frederick Mostyn, her grand-nephew, is coming to New York, +and Squire Rawdon, of Rawdon Manor, writes to recommend the young man to +our hospitality." + +"But you surely do not intend to invite him here, Edward. I think that +would not do." + +"He is going to the Holland House. But he is our kinsman, and therefore +we must be hospitable." + +"I have been trying to count the kinship. It is out of my reckoning," +said Ethel. "I hope at least he is nice and presentable." + +"The Mostyns are a handsome family. Look at your grandmother. And Squire +Rawdon speaks very well of Mr. Mostyn. He has taken the right side +in politics, and is likely to make his mark. They were always great +sportsmen, and I dare say this representative of the family is a +good-looking fellow, well-mannered, and perfectly dressed." + +Ethel laughed. "If his clothes fit him he will be an English wonder. I +have seen lots of Englishmen; they are all frights as to trousers and +vests. There was Lord Wycomb, his broadcloths and satins and linen were +marvels in quality, but the make! The girls hated to be seen walking +with him, and he would walk--'good for the constitution,' was his +explanation for all his peculiarities. The Caylers were weary to death +of them." + +"And yet," said Ruth, "they sang songs of triumph when Lou Cayler +married him." + +"That was a different thing. Lou would make him get 'fits' and stop +wearing sloppy, baggy arrangements. And I do not suppose the English +lord has now a single peculiarity left, unless it be his constitutional +walk--that, of course. I have heard English babies get out of their +cradles to take a constitutional." + +During this tirade Ruth had been thinking. "Edward," she asked, "why +does Squire Rawdon introduce Mr. Mostyn? Their relationship cannot be +worth counting." + +"There you are wrong, Ruth." He spoke with a little excitement. +"Englishmen never deny matrimonial relationships, if they are worthy +ones. Mostyn and Rawdon are bound together by many a gold wedding ring; +we reckon such ties relationships. Squire Raw-don lost his son and his +two grandsons a year ago. Perhaps this young man may eventually stand +in their place. The Squire is nearly eighty years old; he is the last of +the English Rawdons--at least of our branch of it." + +"You suppose this Mr. Mostyn may become Squire of Rawdon Manor?" + +"He may, Ruth, but it is not certain. There is a large mortgage on the +Manor." + +"Oh!" + +Both girls made the ejaculation at the same moment, and in both voices +there was the same curious tone of speculation. It was a cry after +truth apprehended, but not realized. Mr. Rawdon remained silent; he was +debating with himself the advisability of further confidence, but +he came quickly to the conclusion that enough had been told for the +present. Turning to Ethel, he said: "I suppose girls have a code of +honor about their secrets. Is Dora Denning's 'extraordinary news' shut +up in it?" + +"Oh, no, father. She is going to be married. That is all." + +"That is enough. Who is the man?" + +"Reverend Mr. Stanhope." + +"Nonsense!" + +"Positively." + +"I never heard anything more ridiculous. That saintly young priest! Why, +Dora will be tired to death of him in a month. And he? Poor fellow!" + +"Why poor fellow? He is very much in love with her." + +"It is hard to understand. St. Jerome's love 'pale with midnight prayer' +would be more believable than the butterfly Dora. Goodness, gracious! +The idea of that man being in love! It pulls him down a bit. I thought +he never looked at a woman." + +"Do you know him, father?" + +"As many people know him--by good report. I know that he is a clergyman +who believes what he preaches. I know a Wall Street broker who left St. +Jude's church because Mr. Stanhope's sermons on Sunday put such a fine +edge on his conscience that Mondays were dangerous days for him to do +business on. And whatever Wall Street financiers think of the Bible +personally, they do like a man who sticks to his colors, and who holds +intact the truth committed to him. Stanhope does this emphatically; and +he is so well trusted that if he wanted to build a new church he could +get all the money necessary, from Wall Street men in an hour. And he is +going to marry! Going to marry Dora Denning! It is 'extraordinary news,' +indeed!" + +Ethel was a little offended at such unusual surprise. "I think you don't +quite understand Dora," she said. "It will be Mr. Stanhope's fault +if she is not led in the right way; for if he only loves and pets her +enough he may do all he wishes with her. I know, I have both coaxed and +ordered her for four years--sometimes one way is best, and sometimes the +other." + +"How is a man to tell which way to take? What do her parents think of +the marriage?" + +"They are pleased with it." + +"Pleased with it! Then I have nothing more to say, except that I hope +they will not appeal to me on any question of divorce that may arise +from such an unlikely marriage." + +"They are only lovers yet, Edward," said Ruth. "It is not fair, or kind, +to even think of divorce." + +"My dear Ruth, the fashionable girl of today accepts marriage with the +provision of divorce." + +"Dora is hardly one of that set." + +"I hope she may keep out of it, but marriage will give her many +opportunities. Well, I am sorry for the young priest. He isn't fit to +manage a woman like Dora Denning. I am afraid he will get the worst of +it." + +"I think you are very unkind, father. Dora is my friend, and I know her. +She is a girl of intense feelings and very affectionate. And she has +dissolved all her life and mind in Mr. Stanhope's life and mind, just as +a lump of sugar is dissolved in water." + +Ruth laughed. "Can you not find a more poetic simile, Ethel?" + +"It will do. This is an age of matter; a material symbol is the proper +thing." + +"I am glad to hear she has dissolved her mind in Stanhope's," said Judge +Rawdon. "Dora's intellect in itself is childish. What did the man see in +her that he should desire her?" + +"Father, you never can tell how much brains men like with their beauty. +Very little will do generally. And Dora has beauty--great beauty; no one +can deny that. I think Dora is giving up a great deal. To her, at least, +marriage is a state of passing from perfect freedom into the comparative +condition of a slave, giving up her own way constantly for some one +else's way." + +"Well, Ethel, the remedy is in the lady's hands. She is not forced to +marry, and the slavery that is voluntary is no hardship. Now, my dear, I +have a case to look over, and you must excuse me to-night. To-morrow we +shall know more concerning Mr. Mostyn, and it is easier to talk about +certainties than probabilities." + +But if conversation ceased about Mr. Mostyn, thought did not; for, a +couple of hours afterwards, Ethel tapped at her aunt's door and said, +"Just a moment, Ruth." + +"Yes, dear, what is it?" + +"Did you notice what father said about the mortgage on Rawdon Manor"' + +"Yes." + +"He seemed to know all about it." + +"I think he does know all about it." + +"Do you think he holds it?" + +"He may do so--it is not unlikely." + +"Oh! Then Mr. Fred Mostyn, if he is to inherit Rawdon, would like the +mortgage removed?" + +"Of course he would." + +"And the way to remove it would be to marry the daughter of the holder +of the mortgage?" + +"It would be one way." + +"So he is coming to look me over. I am a matrimonial possibility. How do +you like that idea, Aunt Ruth?" + +"I do not entertain it for a moment. Mr. Mostyn may not even know of the +mortgage. When men mortgage their estates they do not make confidences +about the matter, or talk it over with their friends. They always +conceal and hide the transaction. If your father holds the mortgage, I +feel sure that no one but himself and Squire Rawdon know anything about +it. Don't look at the wrong side of events, Ethel; be content with the +right side of life's tapestry. Why are you not asleep? What are you +worrying about?" + +"Nothing, only I have not heard all I wanted to hear." + +"And perhaps that is good for you." + +"I shall go and see grandmother first thing in the morning." + +"I would not if I were you. You cannot make any excuse she will not see +through. Your father will call on Mr. Mostyn to-morrow, and we shall get +unprejudiced information." + +"Oh, I don't know that, Ruth. Father is intensely American three hundred +and sixty-four days and twenty-three hours in a year, and then in the +odd hour he will flare up Yorkshire like a conflagration." + +"English, you mean?" + +"No. Yorkshire IS England to grandmother and father. They don't think +anything much of the other counties, and people from them are just +respectable foreigners. You may depend upon it, whatever grandmother +says of Mr. Fred Mostyn, father will believe it, too." + +"Your father always believes whatever your grandmother says. Good night, +dear." + +"Good night. I think I shall go to grandmother in the morning. I +know how to manage her. I shall meet her squarely with the truth, and +acknowledge that I am dying with curiosity about Mr. Mostyn." + +"And she will tease and lecture you, say you are 'not sweetheart high +yet, only a little maid,' and so on. Far better go and talk with Dora. +To-morrow she will need you, I am sure. Ethel, I am very sleepy. Good +night again, dear." + +"Good night!" Then with a sudden animation, "I know what to do, I shall +tell grandmother about Dora's marriage. It is all plain enough now. +Good night, Ruth." And this good night, though dropping sweetly into the +minor third, had yet on its final inflection something of the +pleasant hopefulness of its major key--it expressed anticipation and +satisfaction. + +What happened in the night session she could not tell, but she awoke +with a positive disinclination to ask a question about Mr. Mostyn. "I +have received orders from some one," she said to Ruth; "I simply do not +care whether I ever see or hear of the man again. I am going to Dora, +and I may not come home until late. You know they will depend upon me +for every suggestion." + +In fact, Ethel did not return home until the following day, for a +snowstorm came up in the afternoon, and the girl was weary with planning +and writing, and well inclined to eat with Dora the delicate little +dinner served to them in Dora's private parlor. Then about nine o'clock +Mr. Stanhope called, and Ethel found it pleasant enough to watch the +lovers and listen to Mrs. Denning's opinions of what had been already +planned. And the next day she seemed to be so absolutely necessary +to the movement of the marriage preparations, that it was nearly dark +before she was permitted to return home. + +It was but a short walk between the two houses, and Ethel was resolved +to have the refreshment of the exercise. And how good it was to feel the +pinch of the frost and the gust of the north wind, and after it to come +to the happy portal of home, and the familiar atmosphere of the cheerful +hall, and then to peep into the firelit room in which Ruth lay dreaming +in the dusky shadows. + +"Ruth, darling!" + +"Ethel! I have just sent for you to come home." Then she rose and took +Ethel in her arms. "How delightfully cold you are! And what rosy cheeks! +Do you know that we have a little dinner party?" + +"Mr. Mostyn?" + +"Yes, and your grandmother, and perhaps Dr. Fisher--the Doctor is not +certain." + +"And I see that you are already dressed. How handsome you look! That +black lace dress, with the dull gold ornaments, is all right." + +"I felt as if jewels would be overdress for a family dinner." + +"Yes, but jewels always snub men so completely. It is not altogether +that they represent money; they give an air of royalty, and a woman +without jewels is like an uncrowned queen--she does not get the homage. +I can't account for it, but there it is. I shall wear my sapphire +necklace. What did father say about our new kinsman?" + +"Very little. It was impossible to judge from his words what he thought. +I fancied that he might have been a little disappointed." + +"I should not wonder. We shall see." + +"You will be dressed in an hour?" + +"In less time. Shall I wear white or blue?" + +"Pale blue and white flowers. There are some white violets in the +library. I have a red rose. We shall contrast each other very well." + +"What is it all about? Do we really care how we look in the eyes of this +Mr. Mostyn?" + +"Of course we care. We should not be women if we did not care. We must +make some sort of an impression, and naturally we prefer that it should +be a pleasant one." + +"If we consider the mortgage----" + +"Nonsense! The mortgage is not in it." + +"Good-by. Tell Mattie to bring me a cup of tea upstairs. I will be +dressed in an hour." + +The tea was brought and drank, and Ethel fell asleep while her maid +prepared every item for her toilet. Then she spoke to her mistress, and +Ethel awakened, as she always did, with a smile; nature's surest sign of +a radically sweet temper. And everything went in accord with the smile; +her hair fell naturally into its most becoming waves, her dress into its +most graceful folds; the sapphire necklace matched the blue of her happy +eyes, the roses of youth were on her cheeks, and white violets on her +breast. She felt her own beauty and was glad of it, and with a laughing +word of pleasure went down to the parlor. + +Madam Rawdon was standing before the fire, but when she heard the door +open she turned her face toward it. + +"Come here, Ethel Rawdon," she said, "and let me have a look at you." +And Ethel went to her side, laid her hand lightly on the old lady's +shoulder and kissed her cheek. "You do look middling well," she +continued, "and your dress is about as it should be. I like a girl to +dress like a girl--still, the sapphires. Are they necessary?" + +"You would not say corals, would you, grandmother? I have those you gave +me when I was three years old." + +"Keep your wit, my dear, for this evening. I should not wonder but you +might need it. Fred Mostyn is rather better than I expected. It was a +great pleasure to see him. It was like a bit of my own youth back again. +When you are a very old woman there are few things sweeter, Ethel." + +"But you are not an old woman, grandmother." + +Nor was she. In spite of her seventy-five years she stood erect at the +side of her grand-daughter. Her abundant hair was partly gray, but the +gray mingled with the little oval of costly lace that lay upon it, and +the effect was soft and fair as powdering. She had been very handsome, +and her beauty lingered as the beauty of some flowers linger, in fainter +tints and in less firm outlines; for she had never fallen from that +"grace of God vouchsafed to children," and therefore she had kept not +only the enthusiasms of her youth, but that sweet promise of the "times +of restitution" when the child shall die one hundred years old, because +the child-heart shall be kept in all its freshness and trust. Yes, in +Rachel Rawdon's heart the well-springs of love and life lay too deep for +the frosts of age to touch. She would be eternally young before she grew +old. + +She sat down as Ethel spoke, and drew the girl to her side. "I hear your +friend is going to marry," she said. + +"Dora? Yes." + +"Are you sorry?" + +"Perhaps not. Dora has been a care to me for four years. I hope her +husband may manage her as well as I have done." + +"Are you afraid he will not?" + +"I cannot tell, grandmother. I see all Dora's faults. Mr. Stanhope is +certain that she has no faults. Hitherto she has had her own way in +everything. Excepting myself, no one has ventured to contradict her. +But, then, Dora is over head and ears in love, and love, it is said, +makes all things easy to bear and to do." + +"One thing, girls, amazes me--it is how readily women go to church and +promise to love, honor, and obey their husbands, when they never intend +to do anything of the kind." + +"There is a still more amazing thing, Madam," answered Ruth; "that is +that men should be so foolish as to think, or hope, they perhaps might +do so." + +"Old-fashioned women used to manage it some way or other, Ruth. But the +old-fashioned woman was a very soft-hearted creature, and, maybe, it was +just as well that she was." + +"But Woman's Dark Ages are nearly over, Madam; and is not the New Woman +a great improvement on the Old Woman?" + +"I haven't made up my mind yet, Ruth, about the New Woman. I notice one +thing that a few of the new kind have got into their pretty heads, and +that is, that they ought to have been men; and they have followed up +that idea so far that there is now very little difference in their +looks, and still less in their walk; they go stamping along with the +step of an athlete and the stride of a peasant on fresh plowed fields. +It is the most hideous of walks imaginable. The Grecian bend, which +you cannot remember, but may have heard of, was a lackadaisical, vulgar +walking fad, but it was grace itself compared with the hideous stride +which the New Woman has acquired on the golf links or somewhere else." + +"But men stamp and stride in the same way, grandmother." + +"A long stride suits a man's anatomy well enough; it does not suit a +woman's--she feels every stride she takes, I'll warrant her." + +"If she plays golf----" + +"My dear Ethel, there is no need for her to play golf. It is a man's +game and was played for centuries by men only. In Scotland, the home of +golf, it was not thought nice for women to even go to the links, because +of the awful language they were likely to hear." + +"Then, grandmother, is it not well for ladies to play golf if it keeps +men from using 'awful language' to each other?" + +"God love you, child! Men will think what they dare not speak." + +"If we could only have some new men!" sighed Ethel. "The lover of to-day +is just what a girl can pick up; he has no wit and no wisdom and no +illusions. He talks of his muscles and smells of cigarettes--perhaps +of whisky"--and at these words, Judge Rawdon, accompanied by Mr. Fred +Mostyn, entered the room. + +The introductions slipped over easily, they hardly seemed to be +necessary, and the young man took the chair offered as naturally as +if he had sat by the hearth all his life. There was no pause and no +embarrassment and no useless polite platitudes; and Ethel's first +feeling about her kinsman was one of admiration for the perfect ease and +almost instinctive at-homeness with which he took his place. He had come +to his own and his own had received him; that was the situation, a very +pleasant one, which he accepted with the smiling trust that was at once +the most perfect and polite of acknowledgments. + +"So you do not enjoy traveling?" said Judge Rawdon as if continuing a +conversation. + +"I think it the most painful way of taking pleasure, sir--that is the +actual transit. And sleeping cars and electric-lighted steamers and +hotels do not mitigate the suffering. If Dante was writing now he might +depict a constant round of personally conducted tours in Purgatory. +I should think the punishment adequate for any offense. But I like +arriving at places. New York has given me a lot of new sensations +to-day, and I have forgotten the transit troubles already." + +He talked well and temperately, and yet Ethel could not avoid the +conclusion that he was a man of positive character and uncompromising +prejudices. And she also felt a little disappointed in his personality, +which contradicted her ideal of a Yorkshire squire. For he was small and +slender in stature, and his face was keen and thin, from the high +cheek bones to the sharp point of the clean-shaven chin. Yet it was +an interesting face, for the brows were broad and the eyes bright +and glancing. That his nature held the opposite of his qualities was +evident from the mouth, which was composed and discreet and generally +clothed with a frank smile, negatived by the deep, sonorous voice which +belongs to the indiscreet and quarrelsome. His dress was perfect. Ethel +could find no fault in it, except the monocle which he did not use once +during the evening, and which she therefore decided was a quite idle and +unhandsome adjunct. + +One feature of his character was definite--he was a home-loving man. +He liked the society of women with whom he could be familiar, and +he preferred the company of books and music to fashionable social +functions. This pleasant habit of domesticity was illustrated during +the evening by an accidental incident--a noisy, mechanical street +organ stopped before the windows, and in a blatant manner began its +performance. Conversation was paralyzed by the intrusion and when it +was removed Judge Rawdon said: "What a democratic, leveling, aggressive +thing music is! It insists on being heard. It is always in the way, +it thrusts itself upon you, whether you want it or not. Now art is +different. You go to see pictures when you wish to." + +Mostyn did not notice the criticism on music itself, but added in a +soft, disapproving way: "That man has no music in him. Do you know that +was one of Mendelssohn's delicious dreams. This is how it should have +been rendered," and he went impulsively to the piano and then the sweet +monotonous cadences and melodious reveries slipped from his long white +fingers till the whole room was permeated with a delicious sense of +moonlit solitude and conversation was stilled in its languor. The young +man had played his own dismissal, but it was an effective one, and +he complimented himself on his readiness to seize opportunities for +display, and on his genius in satisfying them. + +"I think I astonished them a little," he mused, "and I wonder what that +pretty, cousin of mine thought of the music and the musician. I fancy we +shall be good friends; she is proud--that is no fault; and she has very +decided opinions--which might be a great fault; but I think I rather +astonished them." + +To such reflections he stepped rather pompously down the avenue, not at +all influenced by any premonition that his satisfactory feelings +might be imperfectly shared. Yet silence was the first result of his +departure. Judge Rawdon took out his pocketbook and began to study its +entries. Ruth Bayard rose and closed the piano. Ethel lifted a magazine, +while it was Madam who finally asked in an impatient tone: + +"What do you think of Frederick? I suppose, Edward, you have an opinion. +Isn't he a very clever man?" + +"I should not wonder if he were, mother, clever to a fault." + +"I never heard a young man talk better." + +"He talked a great deal, but then, you know, he was not on his oath." + +"I'll warrant every word he said." + +"Your warrant is fine surety, mother, but I am not bound to believe all +I hear. You women can please yourselves." + +And with these words he left the women to find out, if they could, what +manner of man their newly-found kinsman might be. + + +* * * * * + + + +CHAPTER III + +ONE of the most comfortable things about Frederick Mostyn was his almost +boyish delight in the new life which New York opened to him. Every phase +of it was so fresh, so unusual, that his Yorkshire existence at Mostyn +Hall gave him no precedents and no experiences by which to measure +events. The simplest things were surprising or interesting. He was never +weary of taking those exciting "lifts" to the top of twenty-three story +buildings and admiring the wonderful views such altitudes gave him. He +did not perhaps comprehend how much he was influenced by the friction +of two million wills and interests; did not realize how they evoked +an electric condition that got behind the foreground of existence and +stirred something more at the roots of his being than any previous +experience had ever done. And this feeling was especially entrancing +when he saw the great city and majestic river lying at his feet in the +white, uncanny light of electricity, all its color gone, its breath +cold, its life strangely remote and quiet, men moving like shadows, +and sounds hollow and faint and far off, as if they came from a distant +world. It gave him a sense of dreamland quite as much as that of +reality. The Yorkshire moors and words grew dull and dreary in his +memory; even the thought of the hunting field could not lure his desire. +New York was full of marvelous novelties; its daily routine, even in the +hotel and on the streets, gripped his heart and his imagination; and he +confessed to himself that New York was life at first hand; fresh drawn, +its very foam sparkling and intoxicating. He walked from the Park to the +Battery and examined all that caught his eye. He had a history of +the city and sought out every historical site; he even went over to +Weehawken, and did his best to locate the spot where Burr and Hamilton +fought. He admired Hamilton, but after reading all about the two men, +gave his sympathy to Burr, "a clever, unlucky little chap," he said. +"Why do clever men hate each other?" and then he smiled queerly as he +remembered political enemies of great men in his own day and his own +country; and concluded that "it was their nature to do so." + +But in these outside enthusiasms he did not forget his personal +relations. It took him but a few days to domesticate himself in both the +Rawdon houses. When the weather drove him off the streets, he found a +pleasant refuge either with Madam or with Ethel and Miss Bayard. Ethel +he saw less frequently than he liked; she was nearly always with Dora +Denning, but with Ruth Bayard he contracted a very pleasant friendship. +He told her all his adventures and found her more sympathetic than Madam +ever pretended to be. Madam thought him provincial in his tastes, and +was better pleased to hear that he had a visiting entry at two good +clubs, and had hired a motor ear, and was learning how to manage it. +Then she told herself that if he was good to her, she would buy him one +to be proud of before he returned to Yorkshire. + +It was at the Elite Club Bryce Denning first saw him. He came in with +Shaw McLaren, a young man whose acquaintance was considered as most +definitely satisfactory. Vainly Bryce Denning had striven to obtain any +notice whatever from McLaren, whose exclusiveness was proverbial. Who +then was this stranger he appeared so anxious to entertain? His look of +supreme satisfaction, his high-bred air, and peculiar intonation quickly +satisfied Bryce as to his nationality. + +"English, of course," he reflected, "and probably one of the aristocrats +that Shaw meets at his recently ennobled sister's place. He is forever +bragging about them. I must find out who Shaw's last British lion is," +and just as he arrived at this decision the person appeared who could +satisfy him. + +"That man!" was the reply to the inevitable question--"why, he is some +relative of the old lady Rawdon. He is staying at the Holland House, +but spends his time with the Rawdons, old and young; the young one is a +beauty, you know." + +"Do you think so? She is a good deal at our house. I suppose the fellow +has some pretentions. Judge Rawdon will be a man hard to satisfy with a +son-in-law." + +"I fancy his daughter will take that subject in her own hand. She +looks like a girl of spirit; and this man is not as handsome as most +Englishmen." + +"Not if you judge him by bulk, but women want more than mere bulk; he +has an air of breeding you can't mistake, and he looks clever." + +"His name is Mostyn. I have heard him spoken of. Would you like to know +him?" + +"I could live without that honor"--then Bryce turned the conversation +upon a recent horse sale, and a few moments later was sauntering up the +avenue. He was now resolved to make up his quarrel with Dora. Through +Dora he could manage to meet Mostyn socially, and he smiled in +anticipation of that proud moment when he should parade in his own +friendly leash McLaren's new British lion. Besides, the introduction to +Mr. Mostyn might, if judiciously managed, promote his own acquaintance +with Shaw McLaren, a sequence to be much desired; an end he had +persistently looked for. + +He went straight to his sister's apartments and touched the bell quite +gently. Her maid opened the door and looked annoyed and uncertain. She +knew all about the cruelly wicked opposition of Miss Denning's brother +to that nice young man, Basil Stanhope; and also the general attitude of +the Denning household, which was a comprehensive disapproval of all that +Mr. Bryce said and did. + +Dora had, however, talked all her anger away; she wished now to be +friends with her brother. She knew that his absence from her wedding +would cause unpleasant notice, and she had other reasons, purely +selfish, all emphasizing the advantages of a reconciliation. So she went +to meet Bryce with a pretty, pathetic air of injury patiently endured, +and when Bryce put out his hands and said, "Forgive me, Dodo! I cannot +bear your anger any longer!" she was quite ready for the next act, which +was to lay her pretty head on his shoulder and murmur, "I am not angry, +Bryce--I am grieved, dear." + +"I know, Dodo--forgive me! It was all my fault. I think I was jealous of +you; it was hard to find that you loved a stranger better than you loved +me. Kiss me, and be my own sweet, beautiful sister again. I shall try to +like all the people you like--for your sake, you know." + +Then Dora was charming. She sat and talked and planned and told him +all that had been done and all that was yet to do. And Bryce never +once named either Ethel or Mr. Mostyn. He knew Dora was a shrewd little +woman, and that he would have to be very careful in introducing the +subject of Mr. Mostyn, or else she would be sure to reach the central +truth of his submission to her. But, somehow, things happen for those +who are content to leave their desires to contingencies and accidentals. +The next morning he breakfasted with the family and felt himself +repaid for his concession to Dora by the evident pleasure their renewed +affection gave his father and mother; and though the elder Denning +made no remark in the renewed family solidarity, Bryce anticipated many +little favors and accommodations from his father's satisfaction. + +After breakfast he sat down, lit his cigar and waited. Both his mother +and Dora had much to tell him, and he listened, and gave them such +excellent advice that they were compelled to regret the arrangements +already made had lacked the benefit of his counsels. + +"But you had Ethel Rawdon," he said. "I thought she was everybody rolled +into one." + +"Oh, Ethel doesn't know as much as she thinks she does," said Mrs. +Denning. "I don't agree with lots of things she advises." + +"Then take my advice, mother." + +"Oh, Bryce, it is the best of all." + +"Bryce does not know about dress and such things, mother. Ethel finds +out what she does not know. Bryce cannot go to modistes and milliners +with me." + +"Well, Ethel does not pay as much attention as she might--she is +always going somewhere or other with that Englishman, that she says is a +relative--for my part, I doubt it." + +"Oh, mother!" + +"Girls will say anything, Dora, to hide a love affair. Why does she +never bring him here to call?" + +"Because I asked her not. I do not want to make new friends, especially +English ones, now. I am so busy all day, and of course my evenings +belong to Basil." + +"Yes, and there is no one to talk to me. Ethel and the Englishman +would pass an hour or two very nicely, and your father is very fond of +foreigners. I think you ought to ask Ethel to introduce him to us; +then we could have a little dinner for him and invite him to our opera +box--don't you agree with me, Bryce?" + +"If Dora does. Of course, at this time, Dora's wishes and engagements +are the most important. I have seen the young man at the club with Shaw +McLaren and about town with Judge Rawdon and others. He seems a nice +little fellow. Jack Lacy wanted to introduce me to him yesterday, but I +told him I could live without the honor. Of course, if Dora feels +like having him here that is a very different matter. He is certainly +distinguished looking, and would give an air to the wedding." + +"Is he handsome, Bryce?" + +"Yes--and no. Women would rave about him; men would think him finical +and dandified. He looks as if he were the happiest fellow in the +world--in fact, he looked to me so provokingly happy that I disliked +him; but now that Dodo is my little sister again, I can be happy enough +to envy no one." + +Then Dora slipped her hand into her brother's hand, and Bryce knew that +he might take his way to his little office in William Street, the advent +of Mr. Mostyn into his life being now as certain as anything in this +questionable, fluctuating world could be. As he was sauntering down +the avenue he met Ethel and he turned and walked back with her to the +Denning house. He was so good-natured and so good-humored that Ethel +could not avoid an inquisitive look at the usually glum young man, and +he caught it with a laugh and said, "I suppose you wonder what is the +matter with me, Miss Rawdon?" + +"You look more than usually happy. If I suppose you have found a wife or +a fortune, shall I be wrong?" + +"You come near the truth; I have found a sister. Do you know I am very +fond of Dora and we have made up our quarrel?" + +Then Ethel looked at him again. She did not believe him. She was sure +that Dora was not the only evoker of the unbounded satisfaction in +Bryce Denning's face and manner. But she let the reason pass; she had +no likely arguments to use against it. And that day Mrs. Denning, with a +slight air of injury, opened the subject of Mr. Mostyn's introduction to +them. She thought Ethel had hardly treated the Dennings fairly. Everyone +was wondering they had not met him. Of course, she knew they were not +aristocrats and she supposed Ethel was ashamed of them, but, for her +part, she thought they were as good as most people, and if it came to +money, they could put down dollar for dollar with any multi-millionaire +in America, or England either, for that matter. + +When the reproach took this tone there seemed to be only one thing for +Ethel to say or to do; but that one thing was exactly what she did not +say or do. She took up Mrs. Denning's reproach and complained that "her +relative and friend had been purposely and definitely ignored. Dora had +told her plainly she did not wish to make Mr. Mostyn's acquaintance; +and, in accord with this feeling, no one in the Denning family had +called on Mr. Mostyn, or shown him the least courtesy. She thought the +whole Rawdon family had the best of reasons for feeling hurt at the +neglect." + +This view of the case had not entered Mrs. Denning's mind. She was +quickly sorry and apologetic for Dora's selfishness and her own +thoughtlessness, and Ethel was not difficult to pacify. There was then +no duty so imperative as the arrangement of a little dinner for Mr. +Mostyn. "We will make it quite a family affair," said Mrs. Denning, +"then we can go to the opera afterwards. Shall I call on Mr. Mostyn at +the Holland House?" she asked anxiously. + +"I will ask Bryce to call," said Dora. "Bryce will do anything to please +me now, mother." + +In this way, Bryce Denning's desires were all arranged for him, and that +evening Dora made her request. Bryce heard it with a pronounced pout of +his lips, but finally told Dora she was "irresistible," and as his time +for pleasing her was nearly out, he would even call on the Englishman at +her request. + +"Mind!" he added, "I think he is as proud as Lucifer, and I may get +nothing for my civility but the excuse of a previous engagement." + +But Bryce Denning expected much more than this, and he got all that he +expected. The young men had a common ground to meet on, and they quickly +became as intimate as ever Frederick Mostyn permitted himself to be with +a stranger. Bryce could hardly help catching enthusiasm from Mostyn on +the subject of New York, and he was able to show his new acquaintance +phases of life in the marvelous city which were of the greatest interest +to the inquisitive Yorkshire squire--Chinese theaters and opium dives; +German, Italian, Spanish, Jewish, French cities sheltering themselves +within the great arms of the great American city; queer restaurants, +where he could eat of the national dishes of every civilized country +under the sun; places of amusement, legal and illegal, and the vast +under side of the evident life--all the uncared for toiling of the +thousands who work through the midnight hours. In these excursions the +young men became in a way familiar, though neither of them ever told the +other the real feelings of their hearts or the real aim of their lives. + +The proposed dinner took place ten days after its suggestion. There was +nothing remarkable in the function itself; all millionaires have +the same delicacies and the same wines, and serve these things with +precisely the same ceremonies. And, as a general thing, the company +follow rigidly ordained laws of conversation. Stories about public +people, remarks about the weather and the opera, are in order; but +original ideas or decided opinions are unpardonable social errors. +Yet even these commonplace events may contain some element that shall +unexpectedly cut a life in two, and so change its aims and desires as +to virtually create a new character. It was Frederick Mostyn who in +this instance underwent this great personal change; a change totally +unexpected and for which he was absolutely unprepared. For the people +gathered in Mrs. Denning's drawing-room were mostly known to him, and +the exceptions did not appear to possess any remarkable traits, except +Basil Stanhope, who stood thoughtfully at a window, his pale, lofty +beauty wearing an air of expectation. Mostyn decided that he was +naturally impatient for the presence of his fiancee, whose delayed +entrance he perceived was also annoying Ethel. Then there was a slight +movement, a sudden silence, and Mostyn saw Stanhope's face flush and +turn magically radiant. Mechanically he followed his movement and the +next moment his eyes met Fate, and Love slipped in between. Dora was +there, a fairy-like vision in pale amber draperies, softened with silk +lace. Diamonds were in her wonderfully waved hair and round her fair +white neck. They clasped her belt and adorned the instep of her little +amber silk slippers. She held a yellow rose in her hand, and yellow +rosebuds lay among the lace at her bosom, and Mostyn, stupefied by her +undreamed-of loveliness, saw golden emanations from the clear pallor of +her face. He felt for a moment or two as if he should certainly faint; +only by a miracle of stubborn will did he drag his consciousness from +that golden-tinted, sparkling haze of beauty which had smitten him like +an enchantment. Then the girl was looking at him with her soft, dark, +gazelle eyes; she was even speaking to him, but what she said, or what +reply he made, he could never by any means remember. Miss Bayard was +to be his companion, and with some effort and a few indistinct words he +gave her his arm. She asked if he was ill, and when a shake of the head +answered the query, she covered the few minutes of his disconcertion +with her conversation. He looked at her gratefully and gathered his +personality together. For Love had come to him like a two-edged sword, +dividing the flesh and the spirit, and he longed to cry aloud and +relieve the sweet torture of the possession. + +Reaction, however, came quickly, and with it a wonderful access of +all his powers. The sweet, strong wine of Love went to his brain like +celestial nectar. All the witty, amusing things he had ever heard came +trooping into his memory, and the dinner was long delayed by his fine +humor, his pleasant anecdotes, and the laughing thoughts which others +caught up and illustrated in their own way. + +It was a feast full of good things, but its spirit was not able to bear +transition. The company scattered quickly when it was over to the opera +or theater or to the rest of a quiet evening at home, for at the end +enthusiasm of any kind has a chilling effect on the feelings. None +of the party understood this result, and yet all were, in their way, +affected by the sudden fall of mental temperature. Mr. Denning went +to his library and took out his private ledger, a penitential sort of +reading which he relished after moods of any kind of enjoyment. Mrs. +Denning selected Ethel Rawdon for her text of disillusion. She "thought +Ethel had been a little jealous of Dora's dress," and Dora said, "It was +one of her surprises, and Ethel thought she ought to know everything." +"You are too obedient to Ethel," continued Mrs. Denning and Dora looked +with a charming demureness at her lover, and said, "She had to be +obedient to some one wiser than herself," and so slipped her hand +into Basil's hand. And he understood the promise, and with a look of +passionate affection raised the little jeweled pledge and kissed it. + +Perhaps no one was more affected by this chill, critical after-hour +than Miss Bayard and Ethel. Mostyn accompanied them home, but he was +depressed, and his courtesy had the air of an obligation. He said he +had a sudden headache, and was not sorry when the ladies bid him "good +night" on the threshold. Indeed, he felt that he must have refused any +invitation to lengthen out the hours with them or anybody. He wanted +one thing, and he wanted that with all his soul--solitude, that he might +fill it with images of Dora, and with passionate promises that either by +fair means or by foul, by right or by wrong, he would win the bewitching +woman for his wife. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"WHAT do you think of the evening, Aunt Ruth?" Ethel was in her +aunt's room, comfortably wrapped in a pink kimono, when she asked this +question. + +"What do you think of it, Ethel?" + +"I am not sure." + +"The dinner was well served." + +"Yes. Who was the little dark man you talked with, aunt?" + +"He was a Mr. Marriot, a banker, and a friend of Bryce Denning's. He is +a fresh addition to society, I think. He had the word 'gold' always on +his lips; and he believes in it as good men believe in God. The general +conversation annoyed him; he could not understand men being entertained +by it." + +"They were, though, for once Jamie Sayer forgot to talk about his +pictures." + +"Is that the name of your escort?" + +"Yes." + +"And is he an artist?" + +"A second-rate one. He is painting Dora's picture, and is a great +favorite of Mrs. Denning's." + +"A strange, wild-looking man. When I saw him first he was lying, +dislocated, over his ottoman rather than sitting on it." + +"Oh, that is a part of his affectations. He is really a childish, +self-conscious creature, with a very decided dash of vulgarity. He only +tries to look strange and wild, and he would be delighted if he knew you +had thought him so." + +"I was glad to see Claudine Jeffrys. How slim and graceful she is! And, +pray, who is that Miss Ullman?" + +"A very rich woman. She has Bryce under consideration. Many other men +have been in the same position, for she is sure they all want her money +and not her. Perhaps she is right. I saw you talking to her, aunt." + +"For a short time. I did not enjoy her company. She is so mercilessly +realistic, she takes all the color out of life. Everything about her, +even her speech, is sharp-lined as the edge of a knife. She could make +Bryce's life very miserable." + +"Perhaps it might turn out the other way. Bryce Denning has capacities +in the same line. How far apart, how far above every man there, stood +Basil Stanhope!" + +"He is strikingly handsome and graceful, and I am sure that his luminous +serenity does not arise from apathy. I should say he was a man of very +strong and tender feelings." + +"And he gives all the strength and tenderness of his feelings to Dora. +Men are strange creatures." + +"Who directed Dora's dress this evening?" + +"Herself or her maid. I had nothing to do with it. The effect was +stunning." + +"Fred thought so. In fact, Fred Hostyn----" + +"Fell in love with her." + +"Exactly. 'Fell,' that is the word--fell prostrate. Usually the lover +of to-day walks very timidly and carefully into the condition, step +by step, and calculating every step before he takes it. Fred +plunged headlong into the whirling vortex. I am very sorry. It is a +catastrophe." + +"I never witnessed the accident before. I have heard of men getting +wounds and falls, and developing new faculties in consequence, but we +saw the phenomenon take place this evening." + +"Love, if it be love, is known in a moment. Man who never saw the +sun before would know it was the sun. In Fred's case it was an +instantaneous, impetuous passion, flaming up at the sight of such +unexpected beauty--a passion that will probably fade as rapidly as it +rose." + +"Fred is not that kind of a man, aunt. He does not like every one and +everything, but whoever or whatever he does like becomes a lasting part +of his life. Even the old chairs and tables at Mostyn are held as sacred +objects by him, though I have no doubt an American girl would trundle +them off to the garret. It is the same with the people. He actually +regards the Rawdons as belonging in some way to the Mostyns; and I do +not believe he has ever been in love before." + +"Nonsense!" + +"He was so surprised by the attack. If it had been the tenth or +twentieth time he would have taken it more philosophically; besides, if +he had ever loved any woman, he would have gone on loving her, and we +should have known all about her perfections by this time." + +"Dora is nearly a married woman, and Mostyn knows it." + +"Nearly may make all the difference. When Dora is married he will be +compelled to accept the inevitable and make the best of it." + +"When Dora is married he will idealize her, and assure himself that her +marriage is the tragedy of both their lives." + +"Dora will give him no reason to suppose such a thing. I am sure she +will not. She is too much in love with Mr. Stanhope to notice any other +lover." + +"You are mistaken, Ethel. Swiftly as Fred was vanquished she noticed +it, and many times--once even while leaning on Mr. Stanhope's arm--she +turned the arrow in the heart wound with sweet little glances and +smiles, and pretty appeals to the blind adoration of her new lover. It +was, to me, a humiliating spectacle. How could she do it?" + +"I am sure Dora meant no wrong. It is so natural for a lovely girl to +show off a little. She will marry and forget Fred Mostyn lives." + +"And Fred will forget?" + +"Fred will not forget." + +"Then I shall be very sorry for your father and grandmother." + +"What have they to do with Fred marrying?" + +"A great deal. Fred has been so familiar and homely the last two or +three weeks, that they have come to look upon him as a future member +of the family. It has been 'Cousin Ethel' and 'Aunt Ruth' and even +'grandmother' and 'Cousin Fred,' and no objections have been made to the +use of such personal terms. I think your father hopes for a closer tie +between you and Fred Mostyn than cousinship." + +"Whatever might have been is over. Do you imagine I could consent to be +the secondary deity, to come after Dora--Dora of all the girls I have +ever known? The idea is an insult to my heart and my intelligence. +Nothing on earth could make me submit to such an indignity." + +"I do not suppose, Ethel, that any wife is the first object of her +husband's love." + +"At least they tell her she is so, swear it an inch deep; and no woman +is fool enough to look beyond that oath, but when she is sure that she +is a second best! AH! That is not a position I will ever take in any +man's heart knowingly." + +"Of course, Fred Mostyn will have to marry." + +"Of course, he will make a duty of the event. The line of Mostyns must +be continued. England might go to ruin if the Mostyns perished off the +English earth; but, Aunt Ruth, I count myself worthy of a better fate +than to become a mere branch in the genealogical tree of the Mostyns. +And that is all Fred Mostyn's wife will ever be to him, unless he +marries Dora." + +"But that very supposition implies tragedy, and it is most unlikely." + +"Yes, for Dora is a good little thing. She has never been familiar +with vice. She has even a horror of poor women divorced from impossible +husbands. She believes her marriage will be watched by the angels, and +recorded in heaven. Basil has instructed her to regard marriage as a +holy sacrament, and I am sure he does the same." + +"Then why should we forecast evil to their names? As for Cousin Fred, I +dare say he is comfortably asleep." + +"I am sure he is not. I believe he is smoking and calling himself names +for not having come to New York last May, when father first invited him. +Had he done so things might have been different." + +"Yes, they might. When Good Fortune calls, and the called 'will not when +they may,' then, 'when they will' Good Fortune has become Misfortune. +Welcome a pleasure or a gain at once, or don't answer it at all. It was +on this rock, Ethel, the bark that carried my love went to pieces. I +know; yes, I know!" + +"My dear aunt!" + +"It is all right now, dear; but things might have been that are not. As +to Dora, I think she may be trusted with Basil Stanhope. He is one of +the best and handsomest men I ever saw, and he has now rights in Dora's +love no one can tamper with. Mostyn is an honorable man." + +"All right, but-- + + "Love will venture in, + Where he daurna well be seen; + O Love will venture in, + Where Wisdom once has been-- + +and then, aunt, what then?" + + + + +PART SECOND -- PLAYING WITH FIRE + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE next day after lunch Ethel said she was going to walk down to +Gramercy Park and spend an hour or two with her grandmother, and "Will +you send the carriage for me at five o'clock?" she asked. + +"Your father has ordered the carriage to be at the Holland House at five +o'clock. It can call for you first, and then go to the Holland House. +But do not keep your father waiting. If he is not at the entrance give +your card to the outside porter; he will have it sent up to Fred's +apartments." + +"Then father is calling on Fred? What for? Is he sick?" + +"Oh, no, business of some kind. I hope you will have a pleasant walk." + +"There is no doubt of it." + +Indeed, she was radiant with its exhilaration when she reached Gramercy +Park. As she ran up the steps of the big, old-fashioned house she saw +Madam at the window picking up some dropped stitches in her knitting. +Madam saw her at the same moment, and the old face and the young face +both alike kindled with love, as well as with happy anticipation of +coveted intercourse. + +"I am so glad to see you, darling Granny. I could not wait until +to-morrow." + +"And why should you, child? I have been watching for you all morning. I +want to hear about the Denning dinner. I suppose you went?" + +"Yes, we went; we had to. Dinners in strange houses are a common +calamity; I can't expect to be spared what everyone has to endure." + +"Don't be affected, Ethel. You like going out to dinner. Of course, you +do! It is only natural, considering." + +"I don't, Granny. I like dances and theaters and operas, but I don't +like dinners. However, the Denning dinner was a grand exception. It gave +me and the others a sensation." + +"I expected that." + +"It was beautifully ordered. Majordomo Parkinson saw to that. If he had +arranged it for his late employer, the Duke of Richmond, it could not +have been finer. There was not a break anywhere." + +"How many were present?" + +"Just a dozen." + +"Mr. Denning and Bryce, of course. Who were the others?" + +"Mr. Stanhope, of course. Granny, he wore his clerical dress. It made +him look so remarkable." + +"He did right. A clergyman ought to look different from other men. I +do not believe Basil Stanhope, having assumed the dress of a servant of +God, would put it off one hour for any social exigency. Why should he? +It is a grander attire than any military or naval uniform, and no court +dress is comparable, for it is the court dress of the King of kings." + +"All right, dear Granny; you always make things clear to me, yet I meet +lots of clergymen in evening dress." + +"Then they ought not to be clergymen. They ought not to wear coats in +which they can hold any kind of opinions. Who was your companion?" + +"Jamie Sayer." + +"I never heard of the man." + +"He is an artist, and is painting Dora's likeness. He is getting on now, +but in the past, like all artists, he has suffered a deal." + +"God's will be done. Let them suffer. It is good for genius to suffer. +Is he in love with you?" + +"Gracious, Granny! His head is so full of pictures that no woman could +find room there, and if one did, the next new picture would crowd her +out." + +"End that story, it is long enough." + +"Do you know Miss Ullman?" + +"I have heard of her. Who has not?" + +"She has Bryce Denning on trial now. If he marries her I shall pity +him." + +"Pity him! Not I, indeed! He would have his just reward. Like to like, +and Amen to it." + +"Then there was Claudine Jeffrys, looking quite ethereal, but very +lovely." + +"I know. Her lover was killed in Cuba, and she has been the type of +faithful grief ever since. She looks it and dresses it to perfection." + +"And feels it?" + +"Perhaps she does. I am not skilled in the feelings of pensive, +heart-broken maidens. But her case is a very common one. Lovers are +nowhere against husbands, yet how many thousands of good women lose +their husbands every year? If they are poor, they have to hide their +grief and work for them-selves and their families; if they are rich, +very few people believe that they are really sorry to be widows. Are +any poor creatures more jeered at than widows? No man believes they +are grieving for the loss of their husbands. Then why should they all +sympathize with Claudine about the loss of a lover?" + +"Perhaps lovers are nicer than husbands." + +"Pretty much all alike. I have known a few good husbands. Your +grandfather was one, your father another. But you have said nothing +about Fred. Did he look handsome? Did he make a sensation? Was he a +cousin to be proud of?" + +"Indeed, Granny, Fred was the whole party. He is not naturally handsome, +but he has distinction, and he was well-dressed. And I never heard +anyone talk as he did. He told the most delightful stories, he was full +of mimicry and wit, and said things that brought everyone into the +merry talk; and I am sure he charmed and astonished the whole party. +Mr. Denning asked me quietly afterwards 'what university he was educated +at.' I think he took it all as education, and had some wild ideas of +finishing Bryce in a similar manner." + +Madam was radiant. "I told you so," she said proudly. "The Mostyns have +intellect as well as land. There are no stupid Mostyns. I hope you asked +him to play. I think his way of handling a piano would have taught them +a few things Russians and Poles know nothing about. Poor things! How can +they have any feelings left?" + +"There was no piano in the room, Granny, and the company separated very +soon after dinner." + +"Somehow you ought to have managed it, Ethel." Then with a touch of +anxiety, "I hope all this cleverness was natural--I mean, I hope it +wasn't champagne. You know, Ethel, we think as we drink, and Fred isn't +used to those frisky wines. Mostyn cellars are full of old sherry and +claret, and Fred's father was always against frothing, sparkling wines." + +"Granny, it was all Fred. Wine had nothing to do with it, but a certain +woman had; in fact, she was the inspirer, and Fred fell fifty fathoms +deep in love with her the very moment she entered the room. He heard +not, felt not, thought not, so struck with love was he. Ruth got him +to a window for a few moments and so hid his emotion until he could get +himself together." + +"Oh, what a tale! What a cobweb tale! I don't believe a word of it," and +she laughed merrily. + +"'Tis true as gospel, Granny." + +"Name her, then. Who was the woman?" + +"Dora." + +"It is beyond belief, above belief, out of all reason. It cannot be, +and it shall not be, and if you are making up a story to tease me, Ethel +Rawdon----" + +"Grandmother, let me tell you just how it came about. We were all in the +room waiting for Dora, and she suddenly entered. She was dressed in soft +amber silk from head to feet; diamonds were in her black hair, and on +the bands across her shoulders, on her corsage, on her belt, her hands, +and even her slippers. Under the electric lights she looked as if she +was in a golden aura, scintillating with stars. She took Fred's breath +away. He was talking to Ruth, and he could not finish the word he was +saying. Ruth thought he was going to faint----" + +"Don't tell me such nonsense." + +"Well, grandmother, this nonsense is truth. As I said before, Ruth +took him aside until he got control of himself; then, as he was Dora's +escort, he had to go to her. Ruth introduced them, and as she raised her +soft, black eyes to his, and put her hand on his arm, something happened +again, but this time it was like possession. He was the courtier in a +moment, his eyes flashed back her glances, he gave her smile for smile, +and then when they were seated side by side he became inspired and +talked as I have told you. It is the truth, grandmother." + +"Well, there are many different kinds of fools, but Fred Mostyn is the +worst I ever heard tell of. Does he not know that the girl is engaged?" + +"Knows it as well as I do." + +"None of our family were ever fools before, and I hope Fred will come +round quickly. Do you think Dora noticed the impression she made?" + +"Yes, Aunt Ruth noticed Dora; and Ruth says Dora 'turned the arrow in +the heart wound' all the evening." + +"What rubbish you are talking! Say in good English what you mean." + +"She tried every moment they, were together to make him more and more +in love with her." + +"What is her intention? A girl doesn't carry on that way for nothing." + +"I do not know. Dora has got beyond me lately. And, grandmother, I +am not troubling about the event as it regards Dora or Fred or Basil +Stanhope, but as it regards Ethel." + +"What have you to do with it?" + +"That is just what I want to have clearly understood. Aunt Ruth told me +that father and you would be disappointed if I did not marry Fred." + +"Well?" + +"I am sorry to disappoint you, but I never shall marry Fred Mostyn. +Never!" + +"I rather think you will have to settle that question with your father, +Ethel." + +"No. I have settled it with myself. The man has given to Dora all the +love that he has to give. I will have a man's whole heart, and not +fragments and finger-ends of it." + +"To be sure, that is right. But I can't say much, Ethel, when I only +know one side of the case, can I? I must wait and hear what Fred has +to say. But I like your spirit and your way of bringing what is wrong +straight up to question. You are a bit Yorkshire yet, whatever you think +gets quick to your tongue, and then out it comes. Good girl, your heart +is on your lips." + +They talked the afternoon away on this subject, but Madam's last words +were not only advisory, they were in a great measure sympathetic. "Be +straight with yourself, Ethel," she said, "then Fred Mostyn can do as he +likes; you will be all right." + +She accepted the counsel with a kiss, and then drove to the Holland +House for her father. He was not waiting, as Ruth had supposed he would +be, but then she was five minutes too soon. She sent up her card, and +then let her eyes fall upon a wretched beggar man who was trying to play +a violin, but was unable by reason of hunger and cold. He looked as if +he was dying, and she was moved with a great pity, and longed for her +father to come and give some help. While she was anxiously watching, a +young man was also struck with the suffering on the violinist's face. +He spoke a few words to him, and taking the violin, drew from it such +strains of melody, that in a few moments a crowd had gathered within the +hotel and before it. First there was silence, then a shout of delight; +and when it ceased the player's voice thrilled every heart to passionate +patriotism, as he sang with magnificent power and feeling-- + + There is not a spot on this wide-peopled earth + So dear to our heart as the Land of our Birth, etc. + + +A tumult of hearty applause followed, and then he cried, "Gentlemen, +this old man fought for the land of our birth. He is dying of hunger," +and into the old man's hat he dropped a bill and then handed it round to +millionaire and workingman alike. Ethel's purse was in her hand. As +he passed along the curb at which her carriage stood, he looked at +her eager face, and with a smile held out the battered hat. She, also +smiling, dropped her purse into it. In a few moments the hat was nearly +full; the old man and the money were confided to the care of an hotel +officer, the stream of traffic and pleasure went on its usual way, and +the musician disappeared. + +All that evening the conversation turned constantly to this event. +Mostyn was sure he was a member of some operatic troupe. "Voices of +such rare compass and exceptional training were not to be found among +non-professional people," he said, and Judge Rawdon was of his opinion. + +"His voice will haunt me for many days," he said. "Those two lines, for +instance-- + + 'Tis the home of our childhood, that beautiful spot + Which memory retains when all else is forgot. + +The melody was wonderful. I wish we could find out where he is singing. +His voice, as I said, haunts my ear." + +Ethel might have made the same remark, but she was silent. She had +noticed the musician more closely than her father or Fred Mostyn, and +when Ruth Bayard asked her if his personality was interesting, she was +able to give a very clear description of the man. + +"I do not believe he is a professional singer; he is too young," she +answered. "I should think he was about twenty-five years old, tall, +slender, and alert. He was fashionably dressed, as if he had been, or +was going, to an afternoon reception. Above all things, I should say he +was a gentleman." + +Oh, why are our hearts so accessible to our eyes? Only a smiling glance +had passed between Ethel and the Unknown, yet his image was prisoned +behind the bars of her eyelids. On this day of days she had met Love on +the crowded street, and he had + + "But touched his lute wherein was audible + The certain secret thing he had to tell; + Only their mirrored eyes met silently"; + +and a sweet trouble, a restless, pleasing curiosity, had filled her +consciousness. Who was he? Where had he gone to? When should they meet +again? Ah, she understood now how Emmeline Labiche had felt constrained +to seek her lover from the snows of Canada to the moss-veiled oaks of +Louisiana. + +But her joyous, hopeful soul could not think of love and disappointment +at the same moment. "I have seen him, and I shall see him again. We met +by appointment. Destiny introduced us. Neither of us will forget, and +somewhere, some day, I shall be waiting, and he will come." + +Thus this daughter of sunshine and hope answered herself; and why not? +All good things come to those who can wait in sweet tranquillity for +them, and seldom does Fortune fail to bring love and heart's-ease upon +the changeful stream of changeful days to those who trust her for them. + +On the following morning, when the two girls entered the parlor, they +found the Judge smoking there. He had already breakfasted, and looked +over the three or four newspapers whose opinions he thought worthy of +his consideration. They were lying in a state of confusion at his side, +and Ethel glanced at them curiously. + +"Did any of the papers speak of the singing before the Holland House?" +she asked. + +"Yes. I think reporters must be ubiquitous. All my papers had some sort +of a notice of the affair." + +"What do they say?" + +"One gave the bare circumstances of the case; another indulged in what +was supposed to be humorous description; a third thought it might have +been the result of a bet or dare; a fourth was of the opinion that +conspiracy between the old beggar and the young man was not unlikely, +and credited the exhibition as a cleverly original way of obtaining +money. But all agreed in believing the singer to be a member of some +opera company now in the city." + +Ethel was indignant. "It was neither 'bet' nor 'dare' nor 'conspiracy,'" +she said. "I saw the singer as he came walking rapidly down the avenue, +and he looked as happy and careless as a boy whistling on a country +lane. When his eyes fell on the old man he hesitated, just a moment, +and then spoke to him. I am sure they were absolute strangers to each +other." + +"But how can you be sure of a thing like that, Ethel?" + +"I don't know 'how,' Ruth, but all the same, I am sure. And as for it +being a new way of begging, that is not correct. Not many years ago, one +of the De Reszke brothers led a crippled soldier into a Paris cafe, and +sang the starving man into comfort in twenty minutes." + +"And the angelic Parepa Rosa did as much for a Mexican woman, whom she +found in the depths of sorrow and poverty--brought her lifelong comfort +with a couple of her songs. Is it not likely, then, that the gallant +knight of the Holland House is really a member of some opera company, +that he knew of these examples and followed them?" + +"It is not unlikely, Ruth, yet I do not believe that is the +explanation." + +"Well," said the Judge, throwing his cigarette into the fire, "if the +singer had never heard of De Reszke and Parepa Rosa, we may suppose him +a gentleman of such culture as to be familiar with the exquisite Greek +legend of Phoebus Apollo--that story would be sufficient to inspire any +man with his voice. Do you know it?" + +Both girls answered with an enthusiastic entreaty for its recital, and +the Judge went to the library and returned with a queer-looking little +book, bound in marbled paper. + +"It was my father's copy," he said, "an Oxford edition." And he turned +the leaves with loving carefulness until he came to the incident. Then +being a fine reader, the words fell from his lips in a stately measure +better than music: + +"After Troy fell there came to Argos a scarred soldier seeking alms. +Not deigning to beg, he played upon a lyre; but the handling of arms had +robbed him of his youthful power, and he stood by the portico hour after +hour, and no one dropped him a lepton. Weary, hungry and thirsty, he +leaned in despair against a pillar. A youth came to him and asked, 'Why +not play on, Akeratos?' And Akeratos meekly answered, 'I am no longer +skilled.' 'Then,' said the stranger, 'hire me thy lyre; here is a +didrachmon. I will play, and thou shalt hold out thy cap and be dumb.' +So the stranger took the lyre and swept the strings, and men heard, +as it were, the clashing of swords. And he sang the fall of Troy--how +Hector perished, slain by Achilles, the rush of chariots, the ring of +hoofs, the roar of flames--and as he sang the people stopped to listen, +breathless and eager, with rapt, attentive ear. And when the singer +ceased the soldier's cap was filled with coins, and the people begged +for yet another song. Then he sang of Venus, till all men's hearts were +softly stirred, and the air was purple and misty and full of the scent +of roses. And in their joy men cast before Akeratos not coins only, but +silver bracelets and rings, and gems and ornaments of gold, until the +heap had to its utmost grown, making Akeratos rich in all men's sight. +Then suddenly the singer stood in a blaze of light, and the men of Argos +saw their god of song, Phoebus Apollo, rise in glory to the skies." + +The girls were delighted; the Judge pleased both with his own rendering +of the legend and the manifest appreciation with which it had been +received. For a moment or two all felt the exquisite touch of the +antique world, and Ethel said, in a tone of longing, + +"I wish that I had been a Greek and lived in Argos." + +"You would not have liked it as well as being an American and living in +New York," said her father. + +"And you would have been a pagan," added Ruth. + +"They were such lovely pagans, Ruth, and they dreamed such beautiful +dreams of life. Leave the book with me, father; I will take good care of +it." + +Then the Judge gave her the book, and with a sigh looked into the modern +street. "I ought to be down at Bowling Green instead of reading +Greek stories to you girls," he said rather brusquely. "I have a very +important railway case on my mind, and Phoebus Apollo has nothing to +do with it. Good morning. And, Ethel, do not deify the singer on the +avenue. He will not turn out, like the singer by the portico, to be a +god; be sure of that." + +The door closed before she could answer, and both women remained silent +a few minutes. Then Ethel went to the window, and Ruth asked if she was +going to Dora's. + +"Yes," was the answer, but without interest. + +"You are tired with all this shopping and worry?" + +"It is not only that I am tired, I am troubled about Fred Mostyn." + +"Why?" + +"I do not know why. It is only a vague unrest as yet. But one thing I +know, I shall oppose anything like Fred making himself intimate with +Dora." + +"I think you will do wisely in that." + +But in a week Ethel realized that in opposing a lover like Fred Mostyn +she had a task beyond her ability. Fred had nothing to do as important +in his opinion as the cultivation of his friendship with Dora Denning. +He called it "friendship," but this misnomer deceived no one, not even +Dora. And when Dora encouraged his attentions, how was Ethel to prevent +them without some explanation which would give a sort of reality to what +was as yet a nameless suspicion? + +Yet every day the familiarity increased. He seemed to divine their +engagements. If they went to their jeweler's, or to a bazaar, he was +sure to stroll in after them. When they came out of the milliner's or +modiste's, Fred was waiting. "He had secured a table at Sherry's; he had +ordered lunch, and all was ready." It was too great an effort to resist +his entreaty. Perhaps no one wished to do so. The girls were utterly +tired and hungry, and the thought of one of Fred's lunches was very +pleasant. Even if Basil Stanhope was with them, it appeared to be all +the better. Fred always included Dora's lover with a charming courtesy; +and, indeed, at such hours, was in his most delightful mood. Stanhope +appeared to inspire him. His mentality when the clergyman was present +took possession of every incident that came and went, and clothed it +in wit and pleasantry. Dora's plighted lover honestly thought Dora's +undeclared lover the cleverest and most delightful of men. And he had no +opportunity of noting, as Ethel did, the difference in Fred's attitude +when he was not present. Then Mostyn's merry mood became sentimental, +and his words were charged with soft meanings and looks of adoration, +and every tone and every movement made to express far more than the +tongue would have dared to utter. + +As this flirtation progressed--for on Dora's part it was only vanity and +flirtation--Ethel grew more and more uneasy. She almost wished for some +trifling overt act which would give her an excuse for warning Dora; and +one day, after three weeks of such philandering, the opportunity came. + +"I think you permit Fred Mostyn to take too much liberty with you, +Dora," she said as soon as they were in Dora's parlor, and as she spoke +she threw off her coat in a temper which effectively emphasized the +words. + +"I have been expecting this ill-nature, Ethel. You were cross all the +time we were at lunch. You spoiled all our pleasure Pray, what have I +been doing wrong with Fred Mostyn?" + +"It was Fred who did wrong. His compliments to you were outrageous. +He has no right to say such things, and you have no right to listen to +them." + +"I am not to blame if he compliments me instead of you. He was simply +polite, but then it was to the wrong person." + +"Of course it was. Such politeness he had no right to offer you." + +"It would have been quite proper if offered you, I suppose?" + +"It would not. It would have been a great impertinence. I have given +him neither claim nor privilege to address me as 'My lovely Ethel!' He +called you many times 'My lovely Dora!' You are not his lovely Dora. +When he put on your coat, he drew you closer than was proper; and I saw +him take your hand and hold it in a clasp--not necessary." + +"Why do you listen and watch? It is vulgar. You told me so yourself. And +I am lovely. Basil says that as well as Fred. Do you want a man to lie +and say I am ugly?" + +"You are fencing the real question. He had no business to use the word +'my.' You are engaged to Basil Stanhope, not to Fred Mostyn." + +"I am Basil's lovely fiancee; I am Fred's lovely friend." + +"Oh! I hope Fred understands the difference." + +"Of course he does. Some people are always thinking evil." + +"I was thinking of Mr. Stanhope's rights." + +"Thank you, Ethel; but I can take care of Mr. Stanhope's rights without +your assistance. If you had said you were thinking of Ethel Rawdon's +rights you would have been nearer the truth." + +"Dora, I will not listen----" + +"Oh, you shall listen to me! I know that you expected Fred to fall in +love with you, but if he did not like to do so, am I to blame?" Ethel +was resuming her coat at this point in the conversation, and Dora +understood the proud silence with which the act was being accomplished. +Then a score of good reasons for preventing such a definite quarrel +flashed through her selfish little mind, and she threw her arms around +Ethel and begged a thousand pardons for her rudeness. And Ethel had +also reasons for avoiding dissension at this time. A break in their +friendship now would bring Dora forward to explain, and Dora had a +wonderful cleverness in presenting her own side of any question. Ethel +shrunk from her innuendoes concerning Fred, and she knew that Basil +would be made to consider her a meddling, jealous girl who willingly saw +evil in Dora's guileless enjoyment of a clever man's company. + +To be misunderstood, to be blamed and pitied, to be made a pedestal +for Dora's superiority, was a situation not to be contemplated. It was +better to look over Dora's rudeness in the flush of Dora's pretended +sorrow for it. So they forgave each other, or said they did, and +then Dora explained herself. She declared that she had not the least +intention of any wrong. "You see, Ethel, what a fool the man is about +me. Somebody says we ought to treat a fool according to his folly. That +is all I was doing. I am sure Basil is so far above Fred Mostyn that I +could never put them in comparison--and Basil knows it. He trusts me." + +"Very well, Dora. If Basil knows it, and trusts you, I have no more to +say. I am now sorry I named the subject." + +"Never mind, we will forget that it was named. The fact is, Ethel, I +want all the fun I can get now. When I am Basil's wife I shall have to +be very sedate, and of course not even pretend to know if any other man +admires me. Little lunches with Fred, theater and opera parties, and +even dances will be over for me. Oh, dear, how much I am giving up for +Basil! And sometimes I think he never realizes how dreadful it must be +for me." + +"You will have your lover all the time then. Surely his constant +companionship will atone for all you relinquish." + +"Take off your coat and hat, Ethel, and sit down comfortably. I don't +know about Basil's constant companionship. Tete-a-tetes are tiresome +affairs sometimes." + +"Yes," replied Ethel, as she half-reluctantly removed her coat, "they +were a bore undoubtedly even in Paradise. I wonder if Eve was tired of +Adam's conversation, and if that made her listen to--the other party." + +"I am so glad you mentioned that circumstance, Ethel. I shall remember +it. Some day, no doubt, I shall have to remind Basil of the failure of +Adam to satisfy Eve's idea of perfect companionship." And Dora put her +pretty, jeweled hands up to her ears and laughed a low, musical laugh +with a childish note of malice running through it. + +This pseudo-reconciliation was not conducive to pleasant intercourse. +After a short delay Ethel made an excuse for an early departure, and +Dora accepted it without her usual remonstrance. The day had been one +of continual friction, and Dora's irritable pettishness hard to bear, +because it had now lost that childish unreason which had always +induced Ethel's patience, for Dora had lately put away all her ignorant +immaturities. She had become a person of importance, and had realized +the fact. The young ladies of St. Jude's had made a pet of their revered +rector's love, and the elder ladies had also shown a marked interest in +her. The Dennings' fine house was now talked about and visited. Men of +high financial power respected Mr. Dan Denning, and advised the social +recognition of his family; and Mrs. Denning was not now found more +eccentric than many other of the new rich, who had been tolerated in +the ranks of the older plutocrats. Even Bryce had made the standing +he desired. He was seen with the richest and idlest young men, and was +invited to the best houses. Those fashionable women who had marriageable +daughters considered him not ineligible, and men temporarily +hampered for cash knew that they could find smiling assistance for a +consideration at Bryce's little office on William Street. + +These and other points of reflection troubled Ethel, and she was +glad the long trial was nearing its end, for she knew quite well the +disagreement of that evening had done no good. Dora would certainly +repeat their conversation, in her own way of interpreting it, to both +Basil Stanhope and Fred Mostyn. More than likely both Bryce and Mrs. +Denning would also hear how her innocent kindness had been misconstrued; +and in each case she could imagine the conversation that took place, and +the subsequent bestowal of pitying, scornful or angry feeling that would +insensibly find its way to her consciousness without any bird of the air +to carry it. + +She felt, too, that reprisals of any kind were out of the question. They +were not only impolitic, they were difficult. Her father had an aversion +to Dora, and was likely to seize the first opportunity for requesting +Ethel to drop the girl's acquaintance. Ruth also had urged her to +withdraw from any active part in the wedding, strengthening her advice +with the assurance that when a friendship began to decline it ought to +be abandoned at once. There was only her grandmother to go to, and at +first she did not find her at all interested in the trouble. She had +just had a dispute with her milkman, was inclined to give him all her +suspicions and all her angry words--"an impertinent, cheating creature," +she said; and then Ethel had to hear the history of the month's cream +and of the milkman's extortion, with the old lady's characteristic +declaration: + +"I told him plain what I thought of his ways, but I paid him every cent +I owed him. Thank God, I am not unreasonable!" + +Neither was she unreasonable when Ethel finally got her to listen to her +own serious grievance with Dora. + +"If you will have a woman for a friend, Ethel, you must put up with +womanly ways; and it is best to keep your mouth shut concerning such +ways. I hate to see you whimpering and whining about wrongs you have +been cordially inviting for weeks and months and years." + +"Grandmother!" + +"Yes, you have been sowing thorns for yourself, and then you go unshod +over them. I mean that Dora has this fine clergyman, and Fred Mostyn, +and her brother, and mother, and father all on her side; all of them +sure that Dora can do no wrong, all of them sure that Ethel, poor girl, +must be mistaken, or prudish, or jealous, or envious." + +"Oh, grandmother, you are too cruel." + +"Why didn't you have a few friends on your own side?" + +"Father and Ruth never liked Dora. And Fred--I told you how Fred acted +as soon as he saw her!" + +"There was Royal Wheelock, James Clifton, or that handsome Dick Potter. +Why didn't you ask them to join you at your lunches and dances? You +ought to have pillared your own side. A girl without her beaux is always +on the wrong side if the girl with beaux is against her." + +"It was the great time of Dora's life. I wished her to have all the +glory of it." + +"All her own share--that was right. All of your share, also--that was as +wrong as it could be." + +"Clifton is yachting, Royal and I had a little misunderstanding, and +Dick Potter is too effusive." + +"But Dick's effusiveness would have been a good thing for Fred's +effusiveness. Two men can't go on a complimentary ran-tan at the same +table. They freeze one another out. That goes without saying. But Dora's +indiscretions are none of your business while she is under her father's +roof; and I don't know if she hadn't a friend in the world, if they +would be your business. I have always been against people trying to do +the work of THEM that are above us. We are told THEY seek and THEY +save, and it's likely they will look after Dora in spite of her being so +unknowing of herself as to marry a priest in a surplice, when a fool in +motley would have been more like the thing." + +"I don't want to quarrel with Dora. After all, I like her. We have been +friends a long time." + +"Well, then, don't make an enemy of her. One hundred friends are too few +against one enemy. One hundred friends will wish you well, and one enemy +will DO you ill. God love you, child! Take the world as you find it. +Only God can make it any better. When is this blessed wedding to come +off?" + +"In two weeks. You got cards, did you not?" + +"I believe I did. They don't matter. Let Dora and her flirtations alone, +unless you set your own against them. Like cures like. If the priest +sees nothing wrong----" + +"He thinks all she does is perfect." + +"I dare say. Priests are a soft lot, they'll believe anything. He's +love-blind at present. Some day, like the prophet of Pethor, [1] he will +get his eyes opened. As for Fred Mostyn, I shall have a good deal to say +about him by and by, so I'll say nothing now." + +[Footnote 1: One of the Hebrew prophets.] + +"You promised, grandmother, not to talk to me any more about Fred." + +"It was a very inconsiderate promise, a very irrational promise! I am +sorry I made it--and I don't intend to keep it." + +"Well, it takes two to hold a conversation, grandmother." + +"To be sure it does. But if I talk to you, I hope to goodness you will +have the decency to answer me. I wouldn't believe anything different." +And she looked into Ethel's face with such a smiling confidence in her +good will and obedience, that Ethel could only laugh and give her twenty +kisses as she stood up to put on her hat and coat. + +"You always get your way, Granny," she said; and the old lady, as she +walked with her to the door, answered, "I have had my way for nearly +eighty years, dearie, and I've found it a very good way. I'm not likely +to change it now." + +"And none of us want you to change it, dear. Granny's way is always a +wise way." And she kissed her again ere she ran down the steps to her +carriage. Yet as the old lady stepped slowly back to the parlor, she +muttered, "Fred Mostyn is a fool! If he had any sense when he left +England, he has lost it since he came here." + +Of course nothing good came of this irritable interference. Meddling +with the conscience of another person is a delicate and difficult +affair, and Ruth had already warned Ethel of its certain futility. But +the days were rapidly wearing away to the great day, for which so +many other days had been wasted in fatiguing worry, and incredible +extravagance of health and temper and money--and after it? There would +certainly be a break in associations. Temptation would be removed, and +Basil Stanhope, relieved for a time from all the duties of his office, +would have continual opportunities for making eternally secure the +affection of the woman he had chosen. + +It was to be a white wedding, and for twenty hours previous to its +celebration it seemed as if all the florists in New York were at work in +the Denning house and in St. Jude's church. The sacred place was radiant +with white lilies. White lilies everywhere; and the perfume would have +been overpowering, had not the weather been so exquisite that open +windows were possible and even pleasant. To the softest strains of music +Dora entered leaning on her father's arm and her beauty and splendor +evoked from the crowd present an involuntary, simultaneous stir of +wonder and delight. She had hesitated many days between the simplicity +of white chiffon and lilies of the valley, and the magnificence of +brocaded satin in which a glittering thread of silver was interwoven. +The satin had won the day, and the sunshine fell upon its beauty, as +she knelt at the altar, like sunshine falling upon snow. It shone +and gleamed and glistened as if it were an angel's robe; and this +scintillating effect was much increased by the sparkling of the diamonds +in her hair, and at her throat and waist and hands and feet. Nor was +her brilliant youth affected by the overshadowing tulle usually so +unbecoming. It veiled her from head to feet, and was held in place by +a diamond coronal. All her eight maids, though lovely girls, looked wan +and of the earth beside her. For her sake they had been content with +the simplicity of chiffon and white lace hats, and she stood among them +lustrous as some angelic being. Stanhope was entranced by her beauty, +and no one on this day wondered at his infatuation or thought remarkable +the ecstasy of reverent rapture with which he received the hand of his +bride. His sense of the gift was ravishing. She was now his love, his +wife forever, and when Ethel slipped forward to part and throw backward +the concealing veil, he very gently restrained her, and with his own +hands uncovered the blushing beauty, and kissed her there at the altar. +Then amid a murmur and stir of delighted sympathy he took his wife upon +his arm, and turned with her to the life they were to face together. + +Two hours later all was a past dream. Bride and bridegroom had slipped +quietly away, and the wedding guests had arrived at that rather noisy +indifference which presages the end of an entertainment. Then flushed +and tired with hurrying congratulations and good wishes that stumbled +over each other, carriage after carriage departed; and Ethel and her +companions went to Dora's parlor to rest awhile and discuss the event of +the day. But Dora's parlor was in a state of confusion. It had, too, an +air of loss, and felt like a gilded cage from which the bird had flown. +They looked dismally at its discomfort and went downstairs. Men were +removing the faded flowers or sitting at the abandoned table eating +and drinking. Everywhere there was disorder and waste, and from the +servants' quarter came a noisy sense of riotous feasting. + +"Where is Mrs. Denning?" Ethel asked a footman who was gathering +together the silver with the easy unconcern of a man whose ideas were +rosy with champagne. He looked up with a provoking familiarity at the +question, and sputtered out, "She's lying down crying and making a fuss. +Miss Day is with her, soothing of her." + +"Let us go home," said Ethel. + +And so, weary with pleasure, and heart-heavy with feelings that had no +longer any reason to exist, pale with fatigue, untidy with crush, their +pretty white gowns sullied and passe, each went her way; in every heart +a wonder whether the few hilarious hours of strange emotions were worth +all they claimed as their right and due. + +Ruth had gone home earlier, and Ethel found her resting in her room. "I +am worn out, Ruth," was her first remark. "I am going to bed for three +or four days. It was a dreadful ordeal." + +"One to which you may have to submit." + +"Certainly not. My marriage will be a religious ceremony, with half a +dozen of my nearest relatives as witnesses." + +"I noticed Fred slip away before Dora went. He looked ill." + +"I dare say he is ill--and no wonder. Good night, Ruth. I am going to +sleep. Tell father all about the wedding. I don't want to hear it named +again--not as long as I live." + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THREE days passed and Ethel had regained her health and spirits, but +Fred Mostyn had not called since the wedding. Ruth thought some inquiry +ought to be made, and Judge Rawdon called at the Holland House. There +he was told that Mr. Mostyn had not been well, and the young man's +countenance painfully confessed the same thing. + +"My dear Fred, why did you not send us word you were ill?" asked the +Judge. + +"I had fever, sir, and I feared it might be typhoid. Nothing of the +kind, however. I shall be all right in a day or two." + +The truth was far from typhoid, and Fred knew it. He had left the +wedding breakfast because he had reached the limit of his endurance. +Words, stinging as whips, burned like hot coals in his mouth, and he +felt that he could not restrain them much longer. Hastening to his +hotel, he locked himself in his rooms, and passed the night in a frenzy +of passion. The very remembrance of the bridegroom's confident transport +put mur-der in his heart--murder which he could only practice by his +wishes, impotent to compass their desires. + +"I wish the fellow shot! I wish him hanged! I would kill him twenty +times in twenty different ways! And Dora! Dora! Dora! What did she see +in him? What could she see? Love her? He knows nothing of love--such +love as tortures me." Backwards and forwards he paced the floor to such +imprecations and ejaculations as welled up from the whirlpool of rage in +his heart, hour following hour, till in the blackness of his misery he +could no longer speak. His brain had become stupefied by the iteration +of inevitable loss, and so refused any longer to voice a woe beyond +remedy. Then he stood still and called will and reason to council him. +"This way madness lies," he thought. "I must be quiet--I must sleep--I +must forget." + +But it was not until the third day that a dismal, sullen stillness +succeeded the storm of rage and grief, and he awoke from a sleep of +exhaustion feeling as if he were withered at his heart. He knew that +life had to be taken up again, and that in all its farces he must play +his part. At first the thought of Mostyn Hall presented itself as an +asylum. It stood amid thick woods, and there were miles of wind-blown +wolds and hills around it. He was lord and master there, no one could +intrude upon his sorrow; he could nurse it in those lonely rooms to +his heart's content. Every day, however, this gloomy resolution grew +fainter, and one morning he awoke and laughed it to scorn. + +"Frederick's himself again," he quoted, "and he must have been very far +off himself when he thought of giving up or of running away. No, Fred +Mostyn, you will stay here. 'Tis a country where the impossible does not +exist, and the unlikely is sure to happen--a country where marriage is +not for life or death, and where the roads to divorce are manifold and +easy. There are a score of ways and means. I will stay and think them +over; 'twill be odd if I cannot force Fate to change her mind." + +A week after Dora's marriage he found himself able to walk up the +avenue to the Rawdon house; but he arrived there weary and wan enough +to instantly win the sympathy of Ruth and Ethel, and he was immensely +strengthened by the sense of home and kindred, and of genuine kindness +to which he felt a sort of right. He asked Ruth if he might eat dinner +with them. He said he was hungry, and the hotel fare did not tempt him. +And when Judge Rawdon returned he welcomed him in the same generous +spirit, and the evening passed delightfully away. At its close, however, +as Mostyn stood gloved and hatted, and the carriage waited for him, he +said a few words to Judge Rawdon which changed the mental and social +atmosphere. "I wish to have a little talk with you, sir, on a business +matter of some importance. At what hour can I see you to-morrow?" + +"I am engaged all day until three in the afternoon, Fred. Suppose I call +on you about four or half-past?" + +"Very well, sir." + +But both Ethel and Ruth wondered if it was "very well." A shadow, +fleeting as thought, had passed over Judge Rawdon's face when he +heard the request for a business interview, and after the young man's +departure he lost himself in a reverie which was evidently not a happy +one. But he said nothing to the girls, and they were not accustomed to +question him. + +The next morning, instead of going direct to his office, he stopped at +Madam, his moth-er's house in Gramercy Park. A visit at such an early +hour was unusual, and the old lady looked at him in alarm. + +"We are well, mother," he said as she rose. "I called to talk to you +about a little business." Whereupon Madam sat down, and became suddenly +about twenty years younger, for "business" was a word like a watch-cry; +she called all her senses together when it was uttered in her presence. + +"Business!" she ejaculated sharply. "Whose business?" + +"I think I may say the business of the whole family." + +"Nay, I am not in it. My business is just as I want it, and I am not +going to talk about it--one way or the other." + +"Is not Rawdon Court of some interest to you? It has been the home and +seat of the family for many centuries. A good many. Mostyn women have +been its mistress." + +"I never heard of any Mostyn woman who would not have been far happier +away from Rawdon Court. It was a Calvary to them all. There was little +Nannie Mostyn, who died with her first baby because Squire Anthony +struck her in a drunken passion; and the proud Alethia Mostyn, who +suffered twenty years' martyrdom from Squire John; and Sara, who took +thirty thousand pounds to Squire Hubert, to fling away at the green +table; and Harriet, who was made by her husband, Squire Humphrey, to +jump a fence when out hunting with him, and was brought home crippled +and scarred for life--a lovely girl of twenty who went through agonies +for eleven years without aught of love and help, and died alone while he +was following a fox; and there was pretty Barbara Mostyn----" + +"Come, come, mother. I did not call here this morning to hear the +Rawdons abused, and you forget your own marriage. It was a happy one, I +am sure. One Rawdon, at least, must be excepted; and I think I treated +my wife as a good husband ought to treat a wife." + +"Not you! You treated Mary very badly." + +"Mother, not even from you----" + +"I'll say it again. The little girl was dying for a year or more, and +you were so busy making money you never saw it. If she said or looked +a little complaint, you moved restless-like and told her 'she moped too +much.' As the end came I spoke to you, and you pooh-poohed all I said. +She went suddenly, I know, to most people, but she knew it was her last +day, and she longed so to see you, that I sent a servant to hurry you +home, but she died before you could make up your mind to leave your +'cases.' She and I were alone when she whispered her last message for +you--a loving one, too." + +"Mother! Mother! Why recall that bitter day? I did not think--I swear I +did not think----" + +"Never mind swearing. I was just reminding you that the Rawdons have +not been the finest specimens of good husbands. They make landlords, and +judges, and soldiers, and even loom-lords of a very respectable sort; +but husbands! Lord help their poor wives! So you see, as a Mostyn woman, +I have no special interest in Rawdon Court." + +"You would not like it to go out of the family?" + +"I should not worry myself if it did." + +"I suppose you know Fred Mostyn has a mortgage on it that the present +Squire is unable to lift." + +"Aye, Fred told me he had eighty thousand pounds on the old place. I +told him he was a fool to put his money on it." + +"One of the finest manors and manor-houses in England, mother." + +"I have seen it. I was born and brought up near enough to it, I think." + +"Eighty thousand pounds is a bagatelle for the place; yet if Fred forces +a sale, it may go for that, or even less. I can't bear to think of it." + +"Why not buy it yourself?" + +"I would lift the mortgage to-morrow if I had the means. I have not at +present." + +"Well, I am in the same box. You have just spoken as if the Mostyns +and Rawdons had an equal interest in Rawdon Court. Very well, then, it +cannot be far wrong for Fred Mostyn to have it. Many a Mostyn has gone +there as wife and slave. I would dearly like to see one Mostyn go as +master." + +"I shall get no help from you, then, I understand that." + +"I'm Mostyn by birth, I'm only Rawdon by, marriage. The birth-band ties +me fast to my family." + +"Good morning, mother. You have failed me for the first time in your +life." + +"If the money had been for you, Edward, or yours----" + +"It is--good-by." + +She called him back peremptorily, and he returned and stood at the open +door. + +"Why don't you ask Ethel?" + +"I did not think I had the right, mother." + +"More right to ask her than I. See what she says. She's Rawdon, every +inch of her." + +"Perhaps I may. Of course, I can sell securities, but it would be at a +sacrifice a great sacrifice at present." + +"Ethel has the cash; and, as I said, she is Rawdon--I'm not." + +"I wish my father were alive." + +"He wouldn't move me--you needn't think that. What I have said to you I +would have said to him. Speak to Ethel. I'll be bound she'll listen if +Rawdon calls her." + +"I don't like to speak to Ethel." + +"It isn't what you like to do, it's what you find you'll have to do, +that carries the day; and a good thing, too, considering." + +"Good morning, again. You are not quite yourself, I think." + +"Well, I didn't sleep last night, so there's no wonder if I'm a bit +cross this morning. But if I lose my temper, I keep my understanding." + +She was really cross by this time. Her son had put her in a position she +did not like to assume. No love for Rawdon Court was in her heart. She +would rather have advanced the money to buy an American estate. She +had been little pleased at Fred's mortgage on the old place, but to +the American Rawdons she felt it would prove a white elephant; and +the appeal to Ethel was advised because she thought it would amount to +nothing. In the first place, the Judge had the strictest idea of the +sacredness of the charge committed to him as guardian of his daughter's +fortune. In the second, Ethel inherited from her Yorkshire ancestry an +intense sense of the value and obligations of money. She was an ardent +American, and not likely to spend it on an old English manor; and, +furthermore, Madam's penetration had discovered a growing dislike in her +granddaughter for Fred Mostyn. + +"She'd never abide him for a lifelong neighbor," the old lady decided. +"It is the Rawdon pride in her. The Rawdon men have condescended to go +to Mostyn for wives many and many a time, but never once have the Mostyn +men married a Rawdon girl--proud, set-up women, as far as I remember; +and Ethel has a way with her just like them. Fred is good enough and +nice enough for any girl, and I wonder what is the matter with him! +It is a week and more since he was here, and then he wasn't a bit like +himself." + +At this moment the bell rang and she heard Fred's voice inquiring "if +Madam was at home." Instantly she divined the motive of his call. The +young man had come to the conclusion the Judge would try to influence +his mother, and before meeting him in the afternoon he wished to have +some idea of the trend matters were likely to take. His policy--cunning, +Madam called it--did not please her. She immediately assured herself +that "she wouldn't go against her own flesh and blood for anyone," and +his wan face and general air of wretchedness further antagonized her. +She asked him fretfully "what he had been doing to himself, for," she +added, "it's mainly what we do to ourselves that makes us sick. Was it +that everlasting wedding of the Denning girl?" + +He flushed angrily, but answered with much of the same desire to annoy, +"I suppose it was. I felt it very much. Dora was the loveliest girl in +the city. There are none left like her." + +"It will be a good thing for New York if that is the case. I'm not one +that wants the city to myself, but I can spare Dora STANHOPE, and feel +the better for it." + +"The most beautiful of God's creatures!" + +"You've surely lost your sight or your judgment, Fred. She is just a +dusky-skinned girl, with big, brown eyes. You can pick her sort up by +the thousand in any large city. And a wandering-hearted, giddy creature, +too, that will spread as she goes, no doubt. I'm sorry for Basil +Stanhope, he didn't deserve such a fate." + +"Indeed, he did not! It is beyond measure too good for him." + +"I've always heard that affliction is the surest way to heaven. Dora +will lead him that road, and it will be more sure than pleasant. Poor +fellow! He'll soon be as ready to curse his wedding-day as Job was to +curse his birthday. A costly wife she will be to keep, and misery in the +keeping of her. But if you came to talk to me about Dora STANHOPE, I'll +cease talking, for I don't find it any great entertainment." + +"I came to talk to you about Squire Rawdon." + +"What about the Squire? Keep it in your mind that he and I were +sweethearts when we were children. I haven't forgotten that fact." + +"You know Rawdon Court is mortgaged to me?" + +"I've heard you say so--more than once." + +"I intend to foreclose the mortgage in September. I find that I can +get twice yes, three times--the interest for my money in American +securities." + +"How do you know they are securities?" + +"Bryce Denning has put me up to several good things." + +"Well, if you think good things can come that road, you are a bigger +fool than I ever thought you." + +"Fool! Madam, I allow no one to call me a fool, especially without +reason." + +"Reason, indeed! What reason was there in your dillydallying after Dora +Denning when she was engaged, and then making yourself like a ghost for +her after she is married? As for the good things Bryce Denning offers +you in exchange for a grand English manor, take them, and then if I +called you not fool before, I will call you fool in your teeth twice +over, and much too good for you! Aye, I could call you a worse name when +I think of the old Squire--he's two years older than I am--being turned +out of his lifelong home. Where is he to go to?" + +"If I buy the place, for of course it will have to be sold, he is +welcome to remain at Rawdon Court." + +"And he would deserve to do it if he were that low-minded; but if I know +Squire Percival, he will go to the poor-house first. Fred, you would +surely scorn such a dirty thing as selling the old man out of house and +home?" + +"I want my money, or else I want Rawdon Manor." + +"And I have no objections either to your wanting it or having it, but, +for goodness' sake, wait until death gives you a decent warrant for +buying it." + +"I am afraid to delay. The Squire has been very cool with me lately, and +my agent tells me the Tyrrel-Rawdons have been visiting him, also that +he has asked a great many questions about the Judge and Ethel. He is +evidently trying to prevent me getting possession, and I know that old +Nicholas Rawdon would give his eyelids to own Rawdon Court. As to the +Judge----" + +"My son wants none of it. You can make your mind easy on that score." + +"I think I behaved very decently, though, of course, no one gives me +credit for it; for as soon as I saw I must foreclose in order to get my +own I thought at once of Ethel. It seemed to me that if we could love +each other the money claims of Mostyn and the inherited claims of Rawdon +would both be satisfied. Unfortunately, I found that I could not love +Ethel as a wife should be loved." + +"And I can tell you, Fred, that Ethel never could have loved you as a +husband should be loved. She was a good deal disappointed in you from +the very first." + +"I thought I made a favorable impression on her." + +"In a way. She said you played the piano nicely; but Ethel is all for +handsome men, tall, erect six-footers, with a little swing and swagger +to them. She thought you small and finicky. But Ethel's rich enough to +have her fancy, I hope." + +"It is little matter now what she thought. I can't please every one." + +"No, it's rather harder to do that than most people think it is. I +would please my conscience first of all, Fred. That's the point worth +mentioning. And I shall just remind you of one thing more: your money +all in a lump on Rawdon Manor is safe. It is in one place, and in such +shape as it can't run away nor be smuggled away by any man's trickery. +Now, then, turn your eighty thousand pounds into dollars, and divide +them among a score of securities, and you'll soon find out that a +fortune may be easily squandered when it is in a great many hands, and +that what looks satisfactory enough when reckoned up on paper doesn't +often realize in hard money to the same tune. I've said all now I am +going to say." + +"Thank you for the advice given me. I will take it as far as I can. This +afternoon the Judge has promised to talk over the business with me." + +"The Judge never saw Rawdon Court, and he cares nothing about it, but he +can give you counsel about the 'good things' Bryce Denning offers you. +And you may safely listen to it, for, right or wrong, I see plainly it +is your own advice you will take in the long run." + +Mostyn laughed pleasantly and went back to his hotel to think over the +facts gleaned from his conversation with Madam. In the first place, +he understood that any overt act against Squire Rawdon would be deeply +resented by his American relatives. But then he reminded himself that +his own relationship with them was merely sentiment. He had now nothing +to hope for in the way of money. Madam's apparently spontaneous and +truthful assertion, that the Judge cared nothing for Rawdon Court, was, +however, very satisfactory to him. He had been foolish enough to think +that the thing he desired so passionately was of equal value in +the estimation of others. He saw now that he was wrong, and he then +remembered that he had never found Judge Rawdon to evince either +interest or curiosity about the family home. + +If he had been a keen observer, the Judge's face when he called might +have given his comfortable feelings some pause. It was contracted, +subtle, intricate, but he came forward with a congratulation on Mostyn's +improved appearance. "A few weeks at the seaside would do you good," he +added, and Mostyn answered, "I think of going to Newport for a month." + +"And then?" + +"I want your opinion about that. McLean advises me to see the +country--to go to Chicago, St. Louis, Denver, cross the Rockies, and on +to California. It seems as if that would be a grand summer programme. +But my lawyer writes me that the man in charge at Mostyn is cutting too +much timber and is generally too extravagant. Then there is the question +of Rawdon Court. My finances will not let me carry the mortgage on it +longer, unless I buy the place." + +"Are you thinking of that as probable?" + +"Yes. It will have to be sold. And Mostyn seems to be the natural owner +after Rawdon. The Mostyns have married Rawdons so frequently that we are +almost like one family, and Rawdon Court lies, as it were, at Mostyn's +gate. The Squire is now old, and too easily persuaded for his own +welfare, and I hear the Tyrrel-Rawdons have been visiting him. Such a +thing would have been incredible a few years ago." + +"Who are the Tyrrel-Rawdons? I have no acquaintance with them." + +"They are the descendants of that Tyrrel-Rawdon who a century ago +married a handsome girl who was only an innkeeper's daughter. He was of +course disowned and disinherited, and his children sank to the lowest +social grade. Then when power-loom weaving was introduced they went to +the mills, and one of them was clever and saved money and built a little +mill of his own, and his son built a much larger one, and made a great +deal of money, and became Mayor of Leeds. The next generation saw the +Tyrrel-Rawdons the largest loom-lords in Yorkshire. One of the youngest +generation was my opponent in the last election and beat me--a Radical +fellow beats the Conservative candidate always where weavers and +spinners hold the vote but I thought it my duty to uphold the Mostyn +banner. You know the Mostyns have always been Tories and Conservatives." + +"Excuse me, but I am afraid I am ignorant concerning Mostyn politics. I +take little interest in the English parties." + +"Naturally. Well, I hope you will take an interest in my affairs and +give me your advice about the sale of Rawdon Court." + +"I think my advice would be useless. In the first place, I never saw the +Court. My father had an old picture of it, which has somehow disappeared +since his death, but I cannot say that even this picture interested me +at all. You know I am an American, born on the soil, and very proud +of it. Then, as you are acquainted with all the ins and outs of the +difficulties and embarrassments, and I know nothing at all about them, +you would hardly be foolish enough to take my opinion against your own. +I suppose the Squire is in favor of your buying the Court?" + +"I never named the subject to him. I thought perhaps he might have +written to you on the matter. You are the last male of the house in that +line." + +"He has never written to me about the Court. Then, I am not the last +male. From what you say, I think the Tyrrel-Rawdons could easily supply +an heir to Rawdon." + +"That is the thing to be avoided. It would be a great offense to the +county families." + +"Why should they be considered? A Rawdon is always a Rawdon." + +"But a cotton spinner, sir! A mere mill-owner!" + +"Well, I do not feel with you and the other county people in that +respect. I think a cotton spinner, giving bread to a thousand families, +is a vastly more respectable and important man than a fox-hunting, idle +landlord. A mill-owning Rawdon might do a deal of good in the sleepy old +village of Monk-Rawdon." + +"Your sentiments are American, not English, sir." + +"As I told you, we look at things from very different standpoints." + +"Do you feel inclined to lift the mortgage yourself, Judge?" + +"I have not the power, even if I had the inclination to do so. My +money is well invested, and I could not, at this time, turn bonds and +securities into cash without making a sacrifice not to be contemplated. +I confess, however, that if the Court has to be sold, I should like the +Tyrrel-Rawdons to buy it. I dare say the picture of the offending youth +is still in the gallery, and I have heard my mother say that what is +another's always yearns for its lord. Driven from his heritage for +Love's sake, it would be at least interesting if Gold gave back to his +children what Love lost them." + +"That is pure sentiment. Surely it would be more natural that the +Mostyns should succeed the Rawdons. We have, as it were, bought the +right with at least a dozen intermarriages." + +"That also is pure sentiment. Gold at last will carry the succession." + +"But not your gold, I infer?" + +"Not my gold; certainly not." + +"Thank you for your decisive words They make my course clear." + +"That is well. As to your summer movements, I am equally unable to +give you advice. I think you need the sea for a month, and after that +McLean's scheme is good. And a return to Mostyn to look after your +affairs is equally good. If I were you, I should follow my inclinations. +If you put your heart into anything, it is well done and enjoyed; if +you do a thing because you think you ought to do it, failure and +disappointment are often the results. So do as you want to do; it is the +only advice I can offer you." + +"Thank you, sir. It is very acceptable. I may leave for Newport +to-morrow. I shall call on the ladies in the morning." + +"I will tell them, but it is just possible that they, too, go to the +country to-morrow, to look after a little cottage on the Hudson we +occupy in the summer. Good-by, and I hope you will soon recover your +usual health." + +Then the Judge lifted his hat, and with a courteous movement left the +room. His face had the same suave urbanity of expression, but he could +hardly restrain the passion in his heart. Placid as he looked when he +entered his house, he threw off all pretenses as soon as he reached his +room. The Yorkshire spirit which Ethel had declared found him out once +in three hundred and sixty-four days and twenty-three hours was then in +full pos-session. The American Judge had disappeared. He looked as like +his ancestors as anything outside of a painted picture could do. His +flushed face, his flashing eyes, his passionate exclamations, the stamp +of his foot, the blow of his hand, the threatening attitude of his +whole figure was but a replica of his great-grandfather, Anthony Rawdon, +giving Radicals at the hustings or careless keepers at the kennels "a +bit of his mind." + +"'Mostyn, seems to be the natural owner of Rawdon! Rawdon Court lies +at Mostyn's gate! Natural that the Mostyns should succeed the Rawdons! +Bought the right by a dozen intermarriages!' Confound the impudent +rascal! Does he think I will see Squire Rawdon rogued out of his home? +Not if I can help it! Not if Ethel can help it! Not if heaven and +earth can help it! He's a downright rascal! A cool, unruffled, impudent +rascal!" And these ejaculations were followed by a bitter, biting, +blasting hailstorm of such epithets as could only be written with one +letter and a dash. + +But the passion of imprecation cooled and satisfied his anger in this +its first impetuous outbreak, and he sat down, clasped the arms of his +chair, and gave himself a peremptory order of control. In a short time +he rose, bathed his head and face in cold water, and began to dress for +dinner. And as he stood before the glass he smiled at the restored color +and calm of his countenance. + +"You are a prudent lawyer," he said sarcastically. "How many actionable +words have you just uttered! If the devil and Fred Mostyn have been +listening, they can, as mother says, 'get the law on you'; but I think +Ethel and I and the law will be a match even for the devil and Fred +Mostyn." Then, as he slowly went downstairs, he repeated to himself, +"Mostyn seems to be the natural owner of Rawdon. No, sir, neither +natural nor legal owner. Rawdon Court lies at Mostyn gate. Not yet. +Mostyn lies at Rawdon gate. Natural that the Mostyns should succeed the +Rawdons. Power of God! Neither in this generation nor the next." + +And at the same moment Mostyn, having thought over his interview with +Judge Rawdon, walked thoughtfully to a window and muttered to himself: +"Whatever was the matter with the old man? Polite as a courtier, but +something was wrong. The room felt as if there was an iceberg in it, and +he kept his right hand in his pocket. I be-lieve he was afraid I +would shake hands with him--it is Ethel, I suppose. Naturally he is +disappointed. Wanted her at Rawdon. Well, it is a pity, but I really +cannot! Oh, Dora! Dora! My heart, my hungry and thirsty heart calls you! +Burning with love, dying with longing, I am waiting for you!" + +The dinner passed pleasantly enough, but both Ethel and Ruth noticed the +Judge was under strong but well-controlled feeling. While servants were +present it passed for high spirits, but as soon as the three were alone +in the library, the excitement took at once a serious aspect. + +"My dears," he said, standing up and facing them, "I have had a very +painful interview with Fred Mostyn. He holds a mortgage over Rawdon +Court, and is going to press it in September--that is, he proposes to +sell the place in order to obtain his money--and the poor Squire!" He +ceased speaking, walked across the room and back again, and appeared +greatly disturbed. + +"What of the Squire?" asked Ruth. + +"God knows, Ruth. He has no other home." + +"Why is this thing to be done? Is there no way to prevent it?" + +"Mostyn wants the money, he says, to invest in American securities. He +does not. He wants to force a sale, so that he may buy the place for the +mortgage, and then either keep it for his pride, or more likely resell +it to the Tyrrel-Rawdons for double the money." Then with gradually +increasing passion he repeated in a low, intense voice the remarks which +Mostyn had made, and which had so infuriated the Judge. Before he +had finished speaking the two women had caught his temper and spirit. +Ethel's face was white with anger, her eyes flashing, her whole attitude +full of fight. Ruth was troubled and sorrowful, and she looked anxiously +at the Judge for some solution of the condition. It was Ethel who voiced +the anxiety. "Father," she asked, "what is to be done? What can you do?" + +"Nothing, I am sorry to say, Ethel. My money is absolutely tied up--for +this year, at any rate. I cannot touch it without wronging others as +well as myself, nor yet without the most ruinous sacrifice." + +"If I could do anything, I would not care at what sacrifice." + +"You can do all that is necessary, Ethel, and you are the only person +who can. You have at least eight hundred thousand dollars in cash and +negotiable securities. Your mother's fortune is all yours, with its +legitimate accruements, and it was left at your own disposal after your +twenty-first birthday. It has been at your own disposal WITH MY CONSENT +since your nineteenth birthday." + +"Then, father, we need not trouble about the Squire. I wish with all +my heart to make his home sure to him as long as he lives. You are a +lawyer, you know what ought to be done." + +"Good girl! I knew what you would say and do, or I should not have told +you the trouble there was at Rawdon. Now, I propose we all make a +visit to Rawdon Court, see the Squire and the property, and while there +perfect such arrangements as seem kindest and wisest. Ruth, how soon can +we be ready to sail?" + +"Father, do you really mean that we are to go to England?" + +"It is the only thing to do. I must see that all is as Mostyn says. I +must not let you throw your money away." + +"That is only prudent," said Ruth, "and we can be ready for the first +steamer if you wish it." + +"I am delighted, father. I long to see England; more than all, I long to +see Rawdon. I did not know until this moment how much I loved it." + +"Well, then, I will have all ready for us to sail next Saturday. Say +nothing about it to Mostyn. He will call to-morrow morning to bid you +good-by before leaving for Newport with McLean. Try and be out." + +"I shall certainly be out," said Ethel. "I do not wish ever to see his +face again, and I must see grandmother and tell her what we are going to +do." + +"I dare say she guesses already. She advised me to ask you about the +mortgage. She knew what you would say." + +"Father, who are the Tyrrel-Rawdons?" + +Then the Judge told the story of the young Tyrrel-Rawdon, who a century +ago had lost his world for Love, and Ethel said "she liked him better +than any Rawdon she had ever heard of." + +"Except your father, Ethel." + +"Except my father; my dear, good father. And I am glad that Love did not +always make them poor. They must now be rich, if they want to buy the +Court." + +"They are rich manufacturers. Mostyn is much annoyed that the Squire +has begun to notice them. He says one of the grandsons of the +Tyrrel-Rawdons, disinherited for love's sake, came to America some time +in the forties. I asked your grandmother if this story was true. She +said it is quite true; that my father was his friend in the matter, +and that it was his reports about America which made them decide to try +their fortune in New York." + +"Does she know what became of him?" + +"No. In his last letter to them he said he had just joined a party +going to the gold fields of California. That was in 1850. He never +wrote again. It is likely he perished on the terrible journey across the +plains. Many thousands did." + +"When I am in England I intend to call upon these Tyrrel-Rawdons. I +think I shall like them. My heart goes out to them. I am proud of this +bit of romance in the family." + +"Oh, there is plenty of romance behind you, Ethel. When you see the old +Squire standing at the entrance to the Manor House, you may see the hags +of Cressy and Agincourt, of Marston and Worcester behind him. And the +Rawdon women have frequently been daughters of Destiny. Many of them +have lived romances that would be incredible if written down. Oh, Ethel, +dear, we cannot, we cannot for our lives, let the old home fall into the +hands of strangers. At any rate, if on inspection we think it wrong to +interfere, I can at least try and get the children of the disinherited +Tyrrel back to their home. Shall we leave it at this point for the +present?" + +This decision was agreeable to all, and then the few preparations +necessary for the journey were talked over, and in this happy discussion +the evening passed rapidly. The dream of Ethel's life had been +this visit to the home of her family, and to go as its savior was a +consummation of the pleasure that filled her with loving pride. She +could not sleep for her waking dreams. She made all sorts of resolutions +about the despised Tyrrel-Rawdons. She intended to show the proud, +indolent world of the English land-aristocracy that Americans, just as +well born as themselves, respected business energy and enterprise; and +she had other plans and propositions just as interesting and as full of +youth's impossible enthusiasm. + +In the morning she went to talk the subject over with her grandmother. +The old lady received the news with affected indifference. She said, +"It mattered nothing to her who sat in Rawdon's seat; but she would not +hear Mostyn blamed for seeking his right. Money and sentiment are no +kin," she added, "and Fred has no sentiment about Rawdon. Why should he? +Only last summer Rawdon kept him out of Parliament, and made him spend a +lot of money beside. He's right to get even with the family if he can." + +"But the old Squire! He is now----" + +"I know; he's older than I am. But Squire Percival has had his day, +and Fred would not do anything out of the way to him--he could not; the +county would make both Mostyn and Rawdon very uncomfortable places to +live in, if he did." + +"If you turn a man out of his home when he is eighty years old, I +think that is 'out of the way.' And Mr. Mostyn is not to be trusted. I +wouldn't trust him as far as I could see him." + +"Highty-tighty! He has not asked you to trust him. You lost your chance +there, miss." + +"Grandmother, I am astonished at you!" + +"Well, it was a mean thing to say, Ethel; but I like Fred, and I see the +rest of my family are against him. It's natural for Yorkshire to help +the weakest side. But there, Fred can do his own fighting, I'll warrant. +He's not an ordinary man." + +"I'm sorry to say he isn't, grandmother. If he were he would speak +without a drawl, and get rid of his monocle, and not pay such minute +attention to his coats and vests and walking sticks." + +Then Ethel proceeded to explain her resolves with regard to the +Tyrrel-Rawdons. "I shall pay them the greatest attention," she said. +"It was a noble thing in young Tyrrel-Rawdon to give up everything for +honorable love, and I think everyone ought to have stood by him." + +"That wouldn't have done at all. If Tyrrel had been petted as you think +he ought to have been, every respectable young man and woman in the +county would have married where their fancy led them; and the fancies of +young people mostly lead them to the road it is ruin to take." + +"From what Fred Mostyn says, Tyrrel's descendants seem to have taken a +very respectable road." + +"I've nothing to say for or against them. It's years and years since I +laid eyes on any of the family. Your grandfather helped one of the young +men to come to America, and I remember his mother getting into a passion +about it. She was a fat woman in a Paisley shawl and a love-bird on her +bonnet. I saw his sister often. She weighed about twelve stone, and had +red hair and red cheeks and bare red elbows. She was called a 'strapping +lass.' That is quite a complimentary term in the West Riding." + +"Please, grandmother, I don't want to hear any more. In two weeks +I shall be able to judge for myself. Since then there have been +two generations, and if a member of the present one is fit for +Parliament----" + +"That's nothing. We needn't look for anything specially refined in +Parliament in these days. There's another thing. These Tyrrel-Rawdons +are chapel people. The rector of Rawdon church would not marry Tyrrel to +his low-born love, and so they went to the Methodist preacher, and after +that to the Methodist chapel. That put them down, more than you can +imagine here in America." + +"It was a shame! Methodists are most respectable people." + +"I'm saying nothing contrary." + +"The President is a Methodist." + +"I never asked what he was. I am a Church of England woman, you know +that. Born and bred in the Church, baptized, confirmed, and married in +the Church, and I was always taught it was the only proper Church for +gentlemen and gentlewomen to be saved in. However, English Methodists +often go back to the Church when they get rich." + +"Church or chapel makes no difference to me, grandmother. If people are +only good." + +"To be sure; but you won't be long in England until you'll find out that +some things make a great deal of difference. Do you know your father was +here this morning? He wanted me to go with you--a likely, thing." + +"But, grandmother, do come. We will take such good care of you, and----" + +"I know, but I'd rather keep my old memories of Yorkshire than get +new-fashioned ones. All is changed. I can tell that by what Fred +says. My three great friends are dead. They have left children and +grandchildren, of course, but I don't want to make new acquaintances at +my age, unless I have the picking of them. No, I shall get Miss Hillis +to go with me to my little cabin on the Jersey coast. We'll take our +knitting and the fresh novels, and I'll warrant we'll see as much of +the new men and women in them as will more than satisfy us. But you must +write me long letters, and tell me everything about the Squire and the +way he keeps house, and I don't care if you fill up the paper with the +Tyrrel-Rawdons." + +"I will write you often, Granny, and tell you everything." + +"I shouldn't wonder if you come across Dora Stanhope, but I wouldn't ask +her to Rawdon. She'll mix some cup of bother if you do." + +"I know." + +In such loving and intimate conversation the hours sped quickly, and +Ethel could not bear to cut short her visit. It was nearly five when +she left Gramercy Park, but the day being lovely, and the avenue full of +carriages and pedestrians, she took the drive at its enforced tardiness +without disapproval. Almost on entering the avenue from Madison Square +there was a crush, and her carriage came to a standstill. She was then +opposite the store of a famous English saddler, and near her was an open +carriage occupied by a middle-aged gentleman in military uniform. He +appeared to be waiting for someone, and in a moment or two a young man +came out of the saddlery store, and with a pleasant laugh entered the +carriage. It was the Apollo of her dreams, the singer of the Holland +House pavement. She could not doubt it. His face, his figure, his walk, +and the pleasant smile with which he spoke to his companion were all +positive characteristics. She had forgotten none of them. His dress was +altered to suit the season, but that was an improvement; for divested of +his heavy coat, and clothed only in a stylish afternoon suit, his tall, +fine figure showed to great advantage; and Ethel told herself that he +was even handsomer than she had supposed him to be. + +Almost as soon as he entered his carriage there was a movement, and +she hoped her driver might advance sufficiently to make recognition +possible, but some feeling, she knew not what, prevented her giving +any order leading to this result. Perhaps she had an instinctive +presentiment that it was best to leave all to Destiny. Toward the upper +part of the avenue the carriage of her eager observation came to a stand +before a warehouse of antique furniture and bric-a-brac, and, as it did +so, a beautiful woman ran down the steps, and Apollo, for so Ethel had +men-tally called him, went hurriedly to meet her. Finally her coachman +passed the party, and there was a momentary recognition. He was bending +forward, listening to something the lady was saying, when the vehicles +almost touched each other. He flashed a glance at them, and met the +flash of Ethel's eyes full of interest and curiosity. + +It was over in a moment, but in that moment Ethel saw his astonishment +and delight, and felt her own eager questioning answered. Then she was +joyous and full of hope, for "these two silent meetings are promises," +she said to Ruth. "I feel sure I shall see him again, and then we shall +speak to each other." + +"I hope you are not allowing yourself to feel too much interest in this +man, Ethel; he is very likely married." + +"Oh, no! I am sure he is not, Ruth." + +"How can you be sure? You know nothing about him." + +"I cannot tell HOW I know, nor WHY I know, but I believe what I feel; +and he is as much interested in me as I am in him. I confess that is a +great deal." + +"You may never see him again." + +"I shall expect to see him next winter, he evidently lives in New York." + +"The lady you saw may be his wife. Don't be interested in any man on +unknown ground, Ethel. It is not prudent--it is not right." + +"Time will show. He will very likely be looking for me this summer at +Newport and elsewhere. He will be glad to see me when I come home. Don't +worry, Ruth. It is all right." + +"Fred called soon after you went out this morning. He left for Newport +this afternoon. He will be at sea now." + +"And we shall be there in a few days. When I am at the seaside I always +feel a delicious torpor; yet Nelly Baldwin told me she loved an Atlantic +passage because she had such fun on board. You have crossed several +times, Ruth; is it fun or torpor?" + +"All mirth at sea soon fades away, Ethel. Passengers are a very dull +class of people, and they know it; they rebel against it, but every hour +it becomes more natural to be dull. Very soon all mentally accommodate +themselves to being bored, dreamy and dreary. Then, as soon as it is +dark, comes that old mysterious, hungering sound of the sea; and I for +one listen till I can bear it no longer, and so steal away to bed with a +pain in my heart." + +"I think I shall like the ocean. There are games, and books, and +company, and dinners, and other things." + +"Certainly, and you can think yourself happy, until gradually a +contented cretinism steals over you, body and mind." + +"No, no!" said Ethel enthusiastically. "I shall do according to +Swinburne-- + + "'Have therefore in my heart, and in my mouth, + The sound of song that mingles North and South; + And in my Soul the sense of all the Sea!'" + + +And Ruth laughed at her dramatic attitude, and answered: "The soul of +all the sea is a contented cretinism, Ethel. But in ten days we may be +in Yorkshire. And then, my dear, you may meet your Prince--some fine +Yorkshire gentleman." + +"I have strictly and positively promised myself that my Prince shall be +a fine American gentleman." + +"My dear Ethel, it is very seldom + + "'the time, and the place, + And the Loved One, come together.'" + + +"I live in the land of good hope, Ruth, and my hopes will be realized." + +"We shall see." + + + + +PART THIRD -- "I WENT DOWN INTO THE GARDEN TO SEE IF THE POMEGRANATES +BUDDED." + + --Song of Solomon, VI. 11. + + + +CHAPTER VII + +IT was a lovely afternoon on the last day of May. The sea and all the +toil and travail belonging to it was overpass, and Judge Rawdon, Ruth +and Ethel were driving in lazy, blissful contentment through one of +the lovely roads of the West Riding. On either hand the beautifully +cut hedges were white and sweet, and a caress of scent--the soul of +the hawthorne flower enfolded them. Robins were singing on the topmost +sprays, and the linnet's sweet babbling was heard from the happy nests +in its secret places; while from some unseen steeple the joyful sound +of chiming bells made music between heaven and earth fit for bands of +traveling angels. + +They had dined at a wayside inn on jugged hare, roast beef, and +Yorkshire pudding, clotted cream and haver (oaten) bread, and the +careless stillness of physical well-being and of minds at ease needed no +speech, but the mutual smiling nod of intimate sympathy. For the sense +of joy and beauty which makes us eloquent is far inferior to that sense +which makes us silent. + +This exquisite pause in life was suddenly ended by an exclamation from +the Judge. They were at the great iron gates of Rawdon Park, and +soon were slowly traversing its woody solitudes. The soft light, the +unspeakable green of the turf, the voice of ancient days murmuring in +the great oak trees, the deer asleep among the ferns, the stillness +of the summer afternoon filling the air with drowsy peace this was the +atmosphere into which they entered. Their road through this grand park +of three hundred acres was a wide, straight avenue shaded with beech +trees. The green turf on either hand was starred with primroses. In the +deep undergrowth, ferns waved and fanned each other, and the scent of +hidden violets saluted as they passed. Drowsily, as if half asleep, +the blackbirds whistled their couplets, and in the thickest hedges the +little brown thrushes sang softly to their brooding mates. For half an +hour they kept this heavenly path, and then a sudden turn brought them +their first sight of the old home. + +It was a stately, irregular building of red brick, sandaled and veiled +in ivy. The numerous windows were all latticed, the chimneys in +picturesque stacks, the sloping roof made of flags of sandstone. It +stood in the center of a large garden, at the bottom of which ran a +babbling little river--a cheerful tongue of life in the sweet, silent +place. They crossed it by a pretty bridge, and in a few minutes stood +at the great door of the mansion. It was wide open, and the Squire, with +outstretched hands, rose to meet them. While yet upon the threshold he +kissed both Ethel and Ruth, and, clasping the Judge's hand, gazed at him +with such a piercing, kindly look that the eyes of both men filled with +tears. + +He led them into the hall, and standing there he seemed almost a part of +it. In his youth he had been a son of Anak, and his great size had been +matched by his great strength. His stature was still large, his face +broad and massive, and an abundance of snow-white hair emphasized the +dignity of a countenance which age had made nobler. The generations of +eight hundred years were crystallized in this benignant old man, looking +with such eager interest into the faces of his strange kindred from a +far-off land. + +In the evening they sat together in the old hall talking of the Rawdons. +"There is great family of us, living and dead," said the Squire, "and I +count them all my friends. Bare is the back that has no kin behind it. +That is not our case. Eight hundred years ago there was a Rawdon in +Rawdon, and one has never been wanting since. Saxon, Danish, Norman, and +Stuart kings have been and gone their way, and we remain; and I can tell +you every Rawdon born since the House of Hanover came to England. We +have had our share in all England's strife and glory, for if there was +ever a fight going on anywhere Rawdon was never far off. Yes, we can +string the centuries together in the battle flags we have won. See +there!" he cried, pointing to two standards interwoven above the central +chimney-piece; "one was taken from the Paynim in the first Crusade, and +the other my grandson took in Africa. It seems but yesterday, and Queen +Victoria gave him the Cross for it. Poor lad, he had it on when he died. +It went to the grave with him. I wouldn't have it touched. I fancy the +Rawdons would know it. No one dare say they don't. I think they meddle a +good deal more with this life than we count on." + +The days that followed were days in The House Wonderful. It held the +treasure-trove of centuries; all its rooms were full of secrets. +Even the common sitting-room had an antique homeliness that provoked +questions as to the dates of its furniture and the whereabouts of its +wall cupboards and hidden recesses. Its china had the marks of forgotten +makers, its silver was puzzling with half-obliterated names and dates, +its sideboard of oak was black with age and full of table accessories, +the very names of which were forgotten. For this house had not been +built in the ordinary sense, it had grown through centuries; grown out +of desire and necessity, just as a tree grows, and was therefore fit +and beautiful. And it was no wonder that about every room floated +the perfume of ancient things and the peculiar family aura that had +saturated all the inanimate objects around them. + +In a few days, life settled itself to orderly occupations. The Squire +was a late riser; the Judge and his family breakfasted very early. Then +the two women had a ride in the park, or wandered in the garden, or sat +reading, or sewing, or writing in some of the sweet, fair rooms. Many +visitors soon appeared, and there were calls to return and courtesies to +accept. Among these visitors the Tyrrel-Rawdons were the earliest. The +representatives of that family were Nicholas Rawdon and his wife Lydia. +Nicholas Rawdon was a large, stout man, very arrogant, very complete, +very alert for this world, and not caring much about the other. He was +not pleased at Judge Rawdon's visit, but thought it best to be +cousinly until his cousin interfered with his plans--"rights" he called +them--"and then!" and his "THEN" implied a great deal, for Nicholas +Rawdon was a man incapable of conceiving the idea of loving an enemy. + +His wife was a pleasant, garrulous woman, who interested Ethel very +much. Her family was her chief topic of conversation. She had two +daughters, one of whom had married a baronet, "a man with money and easy +to manage"; and the other, "a rich cotton lord in Manchester." + +"They haven't done badly," she said confidentially, "and it's a great +thing to get girls off your hands early. Adelaide and Martha were well +educated and suitable, but," she added with a glow of pride, "you should +see my John Thomas. He's manager of the mill, and he loves the mill, and +he knows every pound of warp or weft that comes in or goes out of the +mill; and what his father would do without him, I'm sure I don't know. +And he is a member of Parliament, too--Radical ticket. Won over Mostyn. +Wiped Mostyn out pretty well. That was a thing to do, wasn't it?" + +"I suppose Mr. Mostyn was the Conservative candidate?" + +"You may be sure of that. But my John Thomas doesn't blame him for +it--the gentry have to be Conservatives. John Thomas said little against +his politics; he just set the crowd laughing at his ways--his dandified +ways. And he tried to wear one eyeglass, and let it fall, and fall, and +then told the men 'he couldn't manage half a pair of spectacles; but he +could manage their interests and fight for their rights,' and such like +talk. And he walked like Mostyn, and he talked like Mostyn, and spread +out his legs, and twirled his walking stick like Mostyn, and asked them +'if they would wish him to go to Parliament in that kind of a shape, as +he'd try and do it if they wanted a tailor-made man'; and they laughed +him down, and then he spoke reasonable to them. John Thomas knows what +Yorkshire weavers want, and he just prom-ised them everything they had +set their hearts on; and so they sent him to Parliament, and Mostyn went +to America, where, perhaps, they'll teach him that a man's life is worth +a bit more than a bird or a rabbit. Mostyn is all for preserving game, +and his father was a mean creature. When one thinks of his father, one +has to excuse the young man a little bit." + +"I saw a good deal of Mr. Mostyn in New York," said Ethel. "He used to +speak highly of his father." + +"I'll warrant he did; and he ought to keep at it, for he's the only one +in this world that will use his tongue for that end. Old Samuel Mostyn +never learned to live godly or even manly, but after his death he ceased +to do evil, and that, I've no doubt, often feels like a blessing to them +that had to live anyway near to him. But my John Thomas!" + +"Oh," cried Ethel, laughing, "you must not tell me so much about John +Thomas; he might not like it." + +"John Thomas can look all he does and all he says straight in the face. +You may talk of him all day, and find nothing to say that a good girl +like you might not listen to. I should have brought him with us, but +he's away now taking a bit of a holiday. I'm sure he needs it." + +"Where is he taking his holiday?" + +"Why, he went with a cousin to show him the sights of London; but +somehow they got through London sights very quick, and thought they +might as well put Paris in. I wish they hadn't. I don't trust foreigners +and foreign ways, and they don't have the same kind of money as ours; +but Nicholas says I needn't worry; he is sure that our John Thomas, if +change is to make, will make it to suit himself." + +"How soon will he be home?" + +"I might say to-day or any other early day. He's been idling for a month +now, and his father says 'the very looms are calling out for him.' I'll +bring him to see you just as soon as he comes home, looms or no looms, +and he'll be fain to come. No one appreciates a pretty girl more than +John Thomas does." + +So the days passed sweetly and swiftly onward, and there was no trouble +in them. Such business as was to be done went on behind the closed +doors of the Squire's office, and with no one present but himself, Judge +Rawdon, and the attorneys attached to the Rawdon and Mostyn estates. And +as there were no entanglements and no possible reason for disputing, +a settlement was quickly arrived at. Then, as Mostyn's return was +uncertain, an attorney's messenger, properly accredited, was sent to +America to procure his signatures. Allowing for unforeseen delays, the +perfected papers of release might certainly be on hand by the fifteenth +of July, and it was proposed on the first of August to give a dinner +and dance in return for the numerous courtesies the American Rawdons had +received. + +As this date approached Ruth and Ethel began to think of a visit to +London. They wanted new gowns and many other pretty things, and why not +go to London for them? The journey was but a few hours, and two or three +days' shopping in Regent Street and Piccadilly would be delightful. "We +will make out a list of all we need this afternoon," said Ruth, "and +we might as well go to-morrow morning as later," and at this moment +a servant entered with the mail. Ethel lifted her letter with an +exclamation. "It is from Dora," she said, and her voice had a tone of +annoyance in it. "Dora is in London, at the Savoy. She wants to see me +very much." + +"I am so sorry. We have been so happy." + +"I don't think she will interfere much, Ruth." + +"My dears," said Judge Rawdon, "I have a letter from Fred Mostyn. He is +coming home. He will be in London in a day or two." + +"Why is he coming, father?" + +"He says he has a proposal to make about the Manor. I wish he were not +coming. No one wants his proposal." Then the breakfast-table, which had +been so gay, became silent and depressed, and presently the Judge went +away without exhibiting further interest in the London journey. + +"I do wish Dora would let us alone," said Ruth. "She always brings +disappointment or worry of some kind. And I wonder what is the meaning +of this unexpected London visit. I thought she was in Holland." + +"She said in her last letter that London would be impossible before +August." + +"Is it an appointment--or a coincidence?" + +And Ethel, lifting her shoulders sarcastically, as if in hostile +surrender to the inevitable, answered: + +"It is a fatality!" + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THREE days afterward Ethel called on Dora Stanhope at the Savoy. She +found her alone, and she had evidently been crying. Indeed, she +frankly admitted the fact, declaring that she had been "so bored and so +homesick, that she relieved she had cried her beauty away." She glanced +at Ethel's radiant face and neat fresh toilet with envy, and added, "I +am so glad to see you, Ethel. But I was sure that you would come as soon +as you knew I wanted you." + +"Oh, indeed, Dora, you must not make yourself too sure of such a thing +as that! I really came to London to get some new gowns. I have been +shopping all morning." + +"I thought you had come in answer to my letter. I was expecting you. +That is the reason I did not go out with Basil." + +"Don't you expect a little too much, Dora? I have a great many interests +and duties----" + +"I used to be first." + +"When a girl marries she is supposed to----" + +"Please don't talk nonsense. Basil does not take the place of everyone +and everything else. I think we are often very tired of each other. This +morning, when I was telling him what trouble I had with my maid, Julia, +he actually yawned. He tried to smother the yawn, but he could not, and +of course the honeymoon is over when your bridegroom yawns in your face +while you are telling him your troubles." + +"I should think you would be glad it was over. Of all the words in the +English language 'honeymoon' is the most ridiculous and imbecile." + +"I suppose when you get married you will take a honeymoon." + +"I shall have more sense and more selfishness. A girl could hardly +enter a new life through a medium more trying. I am sure it would +need long-tested affections and the sweetest of tempers to make it +endurable." + +"I cannot imagine what you mean." + +"I mean that all traveling just after marriage is a great blunder. +Traveling makes the sunniest disposition hasty and peevish, for women +don't love changes as men do. Not one in a thousand is seen at her best +while traveling, and the majority are seen at their very worst. Then +there is the discomfort and desolation of European hotels--their +mysterious methods and hours, and the ways of foreigners, which are not +as our ways." + +"Don't talk of them, Ethel. They are dreadful places, and such queer +people." + +"Add to these troubles ignorance of language and coinage, the utter +weariness of railway travel, the plague of customs, the trunk that +won't pack, the trains that won't wait, the tiresome sight-seeing, +the climatic irritability, broiling suns, headache, loneliness, +fretfulness--consequently the pitiful boredom of the new husband." + +"Ethel, what you say is certainly too true. I am weary to death of it +all. I want to be at Newport with mother, who is having a lovely time +there. Of course Basil is very nice to me, and yet there have been +little tiffs and struggles--very gentle ones--for the mastery, which +he is not going to get. To-day he wanted me to go with him and Canon +Shackleton to see something or other about the poor of London. I would +not do it. I am so lonely, Ethel, I want to see some one. I feel fit to +cry all the time. I like Basil best of anyone in the world, but----" + +"But in the solitude of a honeymoon among strangers you find out that +the person you like best in the world can bore you as badly as the +person you don't like at all. Is that so?" + +"Exactly. Just fancy if we were among our friends in Newport. I should +have some pleasure in dressing and looking lovely. Why should I dress +here? There is no one to see me." + +"Basil." + +"Of course, but Basil spends all the time in visiting cathedrals and +clergymen. If we go out, it is to see something about the poor, or about +schools and such like. We were not in London two hours until he was off +to Westminster Abbey, and I didn't care a cent about the old place. He +says I must not ask him to go to theaters, but historical old houses +don't interest me at all. What does it matter if Cromwell slept in a +certain ancient shabby room? And as for all the palaces I have seen, my +father's house is a great deal handsomer, and more convenient, and more +comfortable, and I wish I were there. I hate Europe, and England I hate +worst of all." + +"You have not seen England. We are all enraptured with its beauty and +its old houses and pleasant life." + +"You are among friends--at home, as it were. I have heard all about +Rawdon Court. Fred Mostyn told me. He is going to buy it." + +"When?" + +"Some time this fall. Then next year he will entertain us, and that will +be a little different to this desolate hotel, I think." + +"How long will you be in London?" + +"I cannot say. We are invited to Stanhope Castle, but I don't want to go +there. We stayed with the Stanhopes a week when we first came over. They +were then in their London house, and I got enough of them." + +"Did you dislike the family?" + +"No, I cared nothing about them. They just bored me. They are extremely +religious. We had prayers night and morning, and a prayer before and +after every meal. They read only very good books, and the Honorable +Misses Stanhope sew for the poor old women and teach the poor young +ones. They work harder than anyone I ever knew, and they call it +'improving the time.' They thought me a very silly, reckless young +woman, and I think they all prayed for me. One night after they had sung +some very nice songs they asked me to play, and I began with 'My Little +Brown Rose'--you know they all adore the negro--and little by little I +dropped into the funniest coon songs I knew, and oh how they laughed! +Even the old lord stroked his knees and laughed out loud, while the +young ladies laughed into their handkerchiefs. Lady Stanhope was the +only one who comprehended I was guying them; and she looked at me with +half-shut eyes in a way that would have spoiled some girls' fun. It only +made me the merrier. So I tried to show them a cake walk, but the old +lord rose then and said 'I must be tired, and they would excuse me.' +Somehow I could not manage him. Basil was at a workman's concert, and +when he came home I think there were some advices and remonstrances, but +Basil never told me. I felt as if they were all glad when I went away, +and I don't wish to go to the Castle--and I won't go either." + +"But if Basil wishes to go----" + +"He can go alone. I rather think Fred Mostyn will be here in a few +days, and he will take me to places that Basil will not--innocent places +enough, Ethel, so you need not look so shocked. Why do you not ask me to +Rawdon Court?" + +"Because I am only a guest there. I have no right to ask you." + +"I am sure if you told Squire Rawdon how fond you are of me, and how +lonely I am, he would tell you to send for me." + +"I do not believe he would. He has old-fashioned ideas about newly +married people. He would hardly think it possible that you would be +willing to go anywhere without Basil--yet." + +"He could ask Basil too." + +"If Mr. Mostyn is coming home, he can ask you to Mostyn Hall. It is very +near Rawdon Court." + +"Yes. Fred said as soon as he had possession of the Court he could put +both places into a ring fence. Then he would live at the Court. If he +asks us there next summer I shall be sure to beg an invitation for you +also; so I think you might deserve it by getting me one now. I don't +want to go to Mostyn yet. Fred says it needs entire refurnishing, and if +we come to the Court next summer, I have promised to give him my advice +and help in making the place pretty and up to date. Have you seen Mostyn +Hall?" + +"I have passed it several times. It is a large, gloomy-looking place I +was going to say haunted-looking. It stands in a grove of yew trees." + +"So you are not going to ask me to Rawdon Court?" + +"I really cannot, Dora. It is not my house. I am only a guest there." + +"Never mind. Make no more excuses. I see how it is. You always were +jealous of Fred's liking for me. And of course when he goes down to +Mostyn you would prefer me to be absent." + +"Good-by, Dora! I have a deal of shopping to do, and there is not much +time before the ball, for many things will be to make." + +"The ball! What ball?" + +"Only one at Rawdon Court. The neighbors have been exceedingly kind to +us, and the Squire is going to give a dinner and ball on the first of +August." + +"Sit down and tell me about the neighbors--and the ball." + +"I cannot. I promised Ruth to be back at five. Our modiste is to see us +at that hour." + +"So Ruth is with you! Why did she not call on me?" + +"Did you think I should come to London alone? And Ruth did not call +because she was too busy." + +"Everyone and everything comes before me now. I used to be first of +all. I wish I were in Newport with dad and mamma; even Bryce would be a +comfort." + +"As I said before, you have Mr. Stanhope." + +"Are you going to send for me to the ball?" + +"I cannot promise that, Dora. Good-by." + +Dora did not answer. She buried her face in the soft pillow, and Ethel +closed the door to the sound of her sobs. But they did not cause her to +return or to make any foolish promises. She divined their insincerity +and their motive, and had no mind to take any part in forwarding the +latter. + +And Ruth assured her she had acted wisely. "If trouble should ever come +of this friendship," she said, "Dora would very likely complain that +you had always thrown Mostyn in her way, brought him to her house in New +York, and brought her to him at Rawdon, in England. Marriage is such a +risk, Ethel, but to marry without the courage to adapt oneself. AH!" + +"You think that condition unspeakably hard?" + +"There are no words for it." + +"Dora was not reticent, I assure you." + +"I am sorry. A wife's complaints are self-inflicted wounds; scattered +seeds, from which only misery can spring. I hope you will not see her +again at this time." + +"I made no promise to do so." + +"And where all is so uncertain, we had better suppose all is right than +that all is wrong. Even if there was the beginning of wrong, it needs +but an accident to prevent it, and there are so many." + +"Accidents!" + +"Yes, for accident is God's part in affairs. We call it accident; it +would be better to say an interposition." + +"Dora told me Mostyn intended to buy Rawdon Court in September, and he +has even invited the Stanhopes to stay there next summer." + +"What did you say?" + +"Nothing against it." + +"Very good. Do you think Mostyn is in London now?" + +"I should not wonder. I am sure Dora is expecting him." + +In fact, the next morning they met Dora and Basil Stanhope, driving in +Hyde Park with Mostyn, but the smiling greeting which passed between the +parties did not, except in the case of Basil Stanhope, fairly represent +the dominant feeling of anyone. As for Stanhope, his nature was so clear +and truthful that he would hardly have comprehended a smile which was +intended to veil feelings not to be called either quite friendly or +quite pleasant. After this meeting all the joy went out of Ruth and +Ethel's shopping. They wanted to get back to the Court, and they +attended strictly to business in order to do so. + +Mostyn followed them very quickly. He was exceedingly anxious to see +and hear for himself how his affairs regarding Rawdon stood. They were +easily made plain to him, and he saw with a pang of disappointment that +all his hopes of being Squire of Rawdon Manor were over. Every penny he +could righteously claim was paid to him, and on the title deeds of the +ancient place he had no longer the shadow of a claim. The Squire looked +ten years younger as he affectionately laid both hands on the redeemed +parchments, and Mostyn with enforced politeness congratulated him on +their integrity and then made a hurried retreat. Of its own kind this +disappointment was as great as the loss of Dora. He could think of +neither without a sense of immeasurable and disastrous failure. One +petty satisfaction regarding the payment of the mortgage was his only +com-fort. He might now show McLean that it was not want of money that +had made him hitherto shy of "the good investments" offered him. He +had been sure McLean in their last interview had thought so, and had, +indeed, felt the half-veiled contempt with which the rich young man had +expressed his pity for Mostyn's inability to take advantage at the +right moment of an exceptional chance to play the game of beggaring his +neighbor. Now, he told himself, he would show McLean and his braggart +set that good birth and old family was for once allied with plenty +of money, and he also promised his wounded sensibilities some very +desirable reprisals, every one of which he felt fully competent to take. + +It was, after all, a poor compensation, but there was also the gold. He +thanked his father that day for the great thoughtfulness and care with +which he had amassed this sum for him, and he tried to console himself +with the belief that gold answered all purposes, and that the yellow +metal was a better possession than the house and lands which he had +longed for with an inherited and insensate craving. + +Two days after this event Ethel, at her father's direction, signed a +number of papers, and when that duty was completed, the Squire rose +from his chair, kissed her hands and her cheeks, and in a voice full +of tenderness and pride said, "I pay my respects to the future lady of +Rawdon Manor, and I thank God for permitting me to see this hour. Most +welcome, Lady Ethel, to the rights you inherit, and the rights you have +bought." It was a moment hardly likely to be duplicated in any life, and +Ethel escaped from its tense emotions as soon as possible. She could not +speak, her heart was too full of joy and wonder. There are souls that +say little and love much. How blessed are they! + +On the following morning the invitations were sent for the dinner +and dance, but the time was put forward to the eighth of August. In +everyone's heart there was a hope that before that day Mostyn would have +left Rawdon, but the hope was barely mentioned. In the meantime he came +and went between Mostyn and Rawdon as he desired, and was received with +that modern politeness which considers it best to ignore offenses that +our grandfathers and grandmothers would have held for strict account and +punishment. + +It was evident that he had frequent letters from Dora. He knew all her +movements, and spoke several times of opening Mostyn Hall and inviting +the Stanhopes to stay with him until their return to America. But as +this suggestion did not bring from any member of the Rawdon family the +invitation hoped for, it was not acted upon. He told himself the +expense would be great, and the Hall, in spite of all he could do in the +interim, would look poor and shabby compared with Rawdon Court; so he +put aside the proposal on the ground that he could not persuade his +aunt to do the entertaining necessary. And for all the irritation and +humiliations centering round his loss of Rawdon and his inabilities with +regard to Dora he blamed Ethel. He was sure if he had been more lovable +and encouraging he could have married her, and thus finally reached +Rawdon Court; and then, with all the unreason imaginable, nursed a +hearty dislike to her because she would not understand his desires, and +provide means for their satisfaction. The bright, joyous girl with her +loving heart, her abounding vitality, and constant cheerfulness, made +him angry. In none of her excellencies he had any share, consequently he +hated her. + +He would have quickly returned to London, but Dora and her husband were +staying with the Stanhopes, and her letters from Stanhope Castle were +lachrymose complaints of the utter weariness and dreariness of +life there the preaching and reading aloud, the regular walking and +driving--all the innocent method of lives which recognized they were +here for some higher purpose than mere physical enjoyment. And it +angered Mostyn that neither Ruth nor Ethel felt any sympathy for Dora's +ennui, and proposed no means of releasing her from it. He considered +them both disgustingly selfish and ill-natured, and was certain that +all their reluctance at Dora's presence arose from their jealousy of her +beauty and her enchanting grace. + +On the afternoon of the day preceding the intended entertainment Ruth, +Ethel, and the Squire were in the great dining-room superintending its +decoration. They were merrily laughing and chatting, and were not +aware of the arrival of any visitors until Mrs. Nicholas Rawdon's rosy, +good-natured face appeared at the open door. Everyone welcomed her +gladly, and the Squire offered her a seat. + +"Nay, Squire," she said, "I'm come to ask a favor, and I won't sit +till I know whether I get it or not; for if I don't get it, I shall say +good-by as quickly as I can. Our John Thomas came home this morning and +his friend with him, and I want invitations for the young men, both of +them. My great pleasure lies that way--if you'll give it to me." + +"Most gladly," answered the Squire, and Ethel immediately went for the +necessary passports. When she returned she found Mrs. Nicholas helping +Ruth and the Squire to arrange the large silver and cut crystal on the +sideboard, and talking at the same time with unabated vivacity. + +"Yes," she was saying, "the lads would have been here two days ago, but +they stayed in London to see some American lady married. John Thomas's +friend knew her. She was married at the Ambassador's house. A fine +affair enough, but it bewilders me this taking up marriage without +priest or book. It's a new commission. The Church's warrant, it seems, +is out of date. It may be right' it may be legal, but I told John Thomas +if he ever got himself married in that kind of a way, he wouldn't have +father or me for witnesses." + +"I am glad," said the Squire, "that the young men are home in time for +our dance. The young like such things." + +"To be sure they do. John Thomas wouldn't give me a moment's rest till +I came here. I didn't want to come. I thought John Thomas should come +himself, and I told him plainly that I was ready to do anyone a favor +if I could, but if he wanted me to come because he was afraid to come +himself, I was just as ready to shirk the journey. And he laughed and +said he was not feared for any woman living, but he did want to make his +first appearance in his best clothes--and that was natural, wasn't it? +So I came for the two lads." Then she looked at the girls with a smile, +and said in a comfortable kind of way: "You'll find them very nice +lads, indeed. I can speak for John Thomas, I have taken his measure long +since; and as far as I can judge his friend, Nature went about some full +work when she made a man of him. He's got a sweet temper, and a strong +mind, and a straight judgment, if I know anything about men--which +Nicholas sometimes makes me think I don't. But Nicholas isn't an +ordinary man, he's what you call 'an exception.'" Then shaking her head +at Ethel, she continued reprovingly: "You were neither of you in +church Sunday. I know some young women who went to the parish +church--Methodists they are--specially to see your new hats. There's +some talk about them, I can tell you, and the village milliner is +pestered to copy them. She keeps her eyes open for you. You disappointed +a lot of people. You ought to go to church in the country. It's the most +respectable thing you can do." + +"We were both very tired," said Ruth, "and the sun was hot, and we had a +good Sabbath at home. Ethel read the Psalms, Epistle and Gospel for +the day, and the Squire gave us some of the grandest organ music I ever +heard." + +"Well, well! Everyone knows the Squire is a grand player. I don't +suppose there is another to match him in the whole world, and the old +feeling about church-going is getting slack among the young people. They +serve God now very much at their ease." + +"Is not that better than serving Him on compulsion?" asked Ruth. + +"I dare say. I'm no bigot. I was brought up an Independent, and went +to their chapel until I married Nicholas Rawdon. My father was a +broad-thinking man. He never taught me to locate God in any building; +and I'm sure I don't believe our parish church is His dwelling-place. +If it is, they ought to mend the roof and put a new carpet down and +make things cleaner and more respectable. Well, Squire, you have silver +enough to tempt all the rogues in Yorkshire, and there's a lot of them. +But now I've seen it, I'll go home with these bits of paper. I shall be +a very important woman to-night. Them two lads won't know how to fleech +and flatter me enough. I'll be waited on hand and foot. And Nicholas +will get a bit of a set-down. He was bragging about Miss Ethel bringing +his invitation to his hand and promising to dance with him. I wouldn't +do it if I were Miss Ethel. She'll find out, if she does, what it means +to dance with a man that weighs twenty stone, and who has never turned +hand nor foot to anything but money-making for thirty years." + +She went away with a sweep and a rustle of her shimmering silk skirt, +and left behind her such an atmosphere of hearty good-nature as made +the last rush and crowd of preparations easily ordered and quickly +accomplished. Before her arrival there had been some doubt as to the +weather. She brought the shining sun with her, and when he set, he left +them with the promise of a splendid to-morrow--a promise amply redeemed +when the next day dawned. Indeed, the sunshine was so brilliant, the +garden so gay and sweet, the lawn so green and firm, the avenues so +shady and full of wandering songs, that it was resolved to hold the +preliminary reception out of doors. Ethel and Ruth were to receive on +the lawn, and at the open hall door the Squire would wait to welcome his +guests. + +Soon after five o'clock there was a brilliant crowd wandering and +resting in the pleasant spaces; and Ethel, wearing a diaphanously white +robe and carrying a rush basket full of white carnations, was moving +among them distributing the flowers. She was thus the center of a +little laughing, bantering group when the Nicholas Rawdon party arrived. +Nicholas remained with the Squire, Mrs. Rawdon and the young men +went toward Ethel. Mrs. Rawdon made a very handsome appearance--"an +aristocratic Britannia in white liberty silk and old lace," whispered +Ruth, and Ethel looked up quickly, to meet her merry eyes full of some +unexplained triumph. In truth, the proud mother was anticipating a great +pleasure, not only in the presentation of her adored son, but also in +the curiosity and astonishment she felt sure would be evoked by his +friend. So, with the boldness of one who brings happy tidings, she +pressed forward. Ethel saw her approach, and went to meet her. Suddenly +her steps were arrested. An extraordinary thing was going to happen. The +Apollo of her dreams, the singer of the Holland House pavement, was at +Mrs. Rawdon's side, was talking to her, was evidently a familiar friend. +She was going to meet him, to speak to him at last. She would hear his +name in a few moments; all that she had hoped and believed was coming +true. And the clear, resonant voice of Lydia Rawdon was like music in +her ears as she said, with an air of triumph she could not hide: + +"Miss Rawdon, I want you to know my son, Mr. John Thomas Rawdon, and +also John Thomas's cousin, Mr. Tyrrel Rawdon, of the United States." +Then Mr. Tyrrel Rawdon looked into Ethel's face, and in that marvelous +meeting of their eyes, swift as the firing of a gun, their pupils +dilated and flashed with recognition, and the blood rushed crimson +over both faces. She gave the gentlemen flowers, and listened to Mrs. +Rawdon's chatter, and said in reply she knew not what. A swift and +exquisite excitement had followed her surprise. Feelings she could +not voice were beating at her lips, and yet she knew that without her +conscious will she had expressed her astonishment and pleasure. It +was, indeed, doubtful whether any after speech or explanation would as +clearly satisfy both hearts as did that momentary flash from soul to +soul of mutual remembrance and interest. + +"I thought I'd give you a surprise," said Mrs. Rawdon delightedly. "You +didn't know the Tyrrel-Rawdons had a branch in America, did you? We are +a bit proud of them, I can tell you that." + +And, indeed, the motherly lady had some reason. John Thomas was a +handsome youth of symmetrical bone and flesh and well-developed muscle. +He had clear, steady, humorous eyes; a manner frank and independent, +not to be put upon; and yet Ethel divined, though she could not have +declared, the "want" in his appearance--that all-overish grace and +elasticity which comes only from the development of the brain and +nervous system. His face was also marred by the seal of commonness which +trade impresses on so many men, the result of the subjection of the +intellect to the will, and of the impossibility of grasping things +except as they relate to self. In this respect the American cousin was +his antipodes. His whole body had a psychical expression--slim, +elastic, alert. Over his bright gray eyes the eyelids drew themselves +horizontally, showing his dexterity and acuteness of mind; indeed, his +whole expression and mien + + "Were, as are the eagle's keen, + All the man was aquiline." + + +These personal characteristics taking some minutes to describe were +almost an instantaneous revelation to Ethel, for what the soul sees it +sees in a flash of understanding. But at that time she only answered her +impressions without any inquiry concerning them. She was absorbed by the +personal presence of the men, and all that was lovely and lovable in her +nature responded to their admiration. + +As they strolled together through a flowery alley, she made them pass +their hands through the thyme and lavender, and listen to a bird singing +its verses, loud and then soft, in the scented air above them. They +came out where the purple plums and golden apricots were beginning to +brighten a southern wall, and there, moodily walking by himself, they +met Mostyn face to face. An angry flash and movement interpreted his +annoyance, but he immediately recovered himself, and met Ethel and his +late political opponent with polite equanimity. But a decided constraint +fell on the happy party, and Ethel was relieved to hear the first +tones of the great bell swing out from its lofty tower the call to the +dining-room. + +As far as Mostyn was concerned, this first malapropos meeting indicated +the whole evening. His heart was beating quickly to some sense of defeat +which he did not take the trouble to analyze. He only saw the man who +had shattered his political hopes and wasted his money in possession +also of what he thought he might rightly consider his place at Ethel's +side. He had once contemplated making Ethel his bride, and though the +matrimonial idea had collapsed as completely as the political one, the +envious, selfish misery of the "dog in the manger" was eating at his +heartstrings. He did not want Ethel; but oh, how he hated the thought of +either John Thomas or that American Raw-don winning her! His seat at the +dinner-table also annoyed him. It was far enough from the objects of +his resentment to prevent him hearing or interfering in their merry +conversation; and he told himself with passionate indignation that Ethel +had never once in all their intercourse been so beautiful and bright as +she revealed herself that evening to those two Rawdon youths--one a mere +loom-master, the other an American whom no one knew anything about. + +The long, bewitching hours of the glorious evening added fuel to the +flame of his anger. He could only procure from Ethel the promise of one +unimportant dance at the close of her programme; and the American had +three dances, and the mere loom-man two. And though he attempted to +restore his self-complacency by devoting his whole attentions to the +only titled young ladies in the room, he had throughout the evening +a sense of being snubbed, and of being a person no longer of much +importance at Rawdon Court. And the reasoning of wounded self-love is a +singular process. Mostyn was quite oblivious of any personal cause for +the change; he attributed it entirely to the Squire's ingratitude. + +"I did the Squire a good turn when he needed it, and of course he hates +me for the obligation; and as for the Judge and his fine daughter, they +interfered with my business--did me a great wrong--and they are only +illustrating the old saying, 'Since I wronged you I never liked you.'" +After indulging such thoughts awhile, he resolved to escort the ladies +Aurelia and Isolde Danvers to Danvers Castle, and leave Miss Ethel to +find a partner for her last dance, a decision that favored John Thomas, +greatly relieved Ethel, and bestowed upon himself that most irritating +of all punishments, a self-inflicted disappointment. + +This evening was the inauguration of a period of undimmed delight. In it +the Tyrrel-Rawdons concluded a firm and affectionate alliance with the +elder branch at the Court, and one day after a happy family dinner +John Thomas made the startling proposal that "the portrait of the +disinherited, disowned Tyrrel should be restored to its place in the +family gallery." He said he had "just walked through it, and noticed +that the spot was still vacant, and I think surely," he added, "the +young man's father must have meant to recall him home some day, but +perhaps death took him unawares." + +"Died in the hunting-field," murmured the Squire. + +John Thomas bowed his head to the remark, and proceeded, "So perhaps, +Squire, it may be in your heart to forgive the dead, and bring back the +poor lad's picture to its place. They who sin for love aren't so bad, +sir, as they who sin for money. I never heard worse of Tyrrel Rawdon +than that he loved a poor woman instead of a rich woman--and married +her. Those that have gone before us into the next life, I should think +are good friends together; and I wouldn't wonder if we might even make +them happier there if we conclude to forget all old wrongs and live +together here--as Rawdons ought to live--like one family." + +"I am of your opinion, John Thomas," said the Squire, rising, and as he +did so he looked at the Judge, who immediately indorsed the proposal. +One after the other rose with sweet and strong assent, until there was +only Tyrrel Rawdon's voice lacking. But when all had spoken he rose +also, and said: + +"I am Tyrrel Rawdon's direct descendant, and I speak for him when I say +to-day, 'Make room for me among my kindred!' He that loves much may be +forgiven much." + +Then the housekeeper was called, and they went slowly, with soft words, +up to the third story of the house. And the room unused for a century +was flung wide open; the shutters were unbarred, and the sunshine +flooded it; and there amid his fishing tackle, guns, and whips, and +faded ballads upon the wall, and books of wood lore and botany, and +dress suits of velvet and satin, and hunting suits of scarlet--all faded +and falling to pieces--stood the picture of Tyrrel Rawdon, with its face +turned to the wall. The Squire made a motion to his descendant, and the +young American tenderly turned it to the light. There was no decay on +those painted lineaments. The almost boyish face, with its loving eyes +and laughing mouth, was still twenty-four years old; and with a look of +pride and affection the Squire lifted the picture and placed it in the +hands of the Tyrrel Rawdon of the day. + +The hanging of the picture in its old place was a silent and tender +little ceremony, and after it the party separated. Mrs. Rawdon went +with Ruth to rest a little. She said "she had a headache," and she also +wanted a good womanly talk over the affair. The Squire, Judge Rawdon, +Mr. Nicholas Rawdon, and John Thomas returned to the dining-room to +drink a bottle of such mild Madeira as can only now be found in the +cellars of old county magnates, and Ethel and Tyrrel Rawdon strolled +into the garden. There had not been in either mind any intention of +leaving the party, but as they passed through the hall Tyrrel saw +Ethel's garden hat and white parasol lying on a table, and, impelled by +some sudden and unreasoned instinct, he offered them to her. Not a word +of request was spoken; it was the eager, passionate command of his +eyes she obeyed. And for a few minutes they were speechless, then so +intensely conscious that words stumbled and were lame, and they managed +only syllables at a time. But he took her hand, and they came by sunny +alleys of boxwood to a great plane tree, bearing at wondrous height +a mighty wealth of branches. A bank of soft, green turf encircled its +roots, and they sat down in the trembling shadows. It was in the midst +of the herb garden; beds of mint and thyme, rosemary and marjoram, +basil, lavender, and other fragrant plants were around, and close at +hand a little city of straw skeps peopled by golden brown bees; From +these skeps came a delicious aroma of riced flowers and virgin wax. It +was a new Garden of Eden, in which life was sweet as perfume and pure as +prayer. Nothing stirred the green, sunny afternoon but the murmur of the +bees, and the sleepy twittering of the birds in the plane branches. An +inexpressible peace swept like the breath of heaven through the odorous +places. They sat down sighing for very happiness. The silence became too +eloquent. At length it was almost unendurable, and Ethel said softly: + +"How still it is!" + +Tyrrel looked at her steadily with beaming eyes. Then he took from his +pocket a little purse of woven gold and opal-tinted beads, and held it +in his open hand for her to see, watching the bright blush that spread +over her face, and the faint, glad smile that parted her lips. + +"You understand?" + +"Yes. It is mine." + +"It was yours. It is now mine." + +"How did you get it?" + +"I bought it from the old man you gave it to." + +"Oh! Then you know him? How is that?" + +"The hotel people sent a porter home with him lest he should be robbed. +Next day I made inquiries, and this porter told me where he lived. I +went there and bought this purse from him. I knew some day it would +bring me to you. I have carried it over my heart ever since." + +"So you noticed me?" + +"I saw you all the time I was singing. I have never forgotten you since +that hour." + +"What made you sing?" + +"Compassion, fate, an urgent impulse; perhaps, indeed, your piteous +face--I saw it first." + +"Really?" + +"I saw it first. I saw it all the time I was singing. When you dropped +this purse my soul met yours in a moment's greeting. It was a promise. +I knew I should meet you again. I have loved you ever since. I wanted +to tell you so the hour we met. It has been hard to keep my secret so +long." + +"It was my secret also." + +"I love you beyond all words. My life is in your hands. You can make me +the gladdest of mortals. You can send me away forever." + +"Oh, no, I could not! I could not do that!" The rest escapes words; but +thus it was that on this day of days these two came by God's grace to +each other. + + For all things come by fate to flower, + At their unconquerable hour. + +And the very atmosphere of such bliss is diffusive; it seemed as if all +the living creatures around understood. In the thick, green branches +the birds began to twitter the secret, and certainly the wise, wise bees +knew also, in some occult way, of the love and joy that had just been +revealed. A wonderful humming and buzzing filled the hives, and the +air vibrated with the movement of wings. Some influence more swift and +secret than the birds of the air carried the matter further, for it +finally reached Royal, the Squire's favorite collie, who came sauntering +down the alley, pushed his nose twice under Ethel's elbow, and then with +a significant look backward, advised the lovers to follow him to the +house. + +When they finally accepted his invitation, they found Mrs. Rawdon +drinking a cup of tea with Ruth in the hall. Ethel joined them with +affected high spirits and random explanations and excuses, but both +women no-ticed her radiant face and exulting air. "The garden is such a +heavenly place," she said ecstatically, and Mrs Rawdon remarked, as she +rose and put her cup on the table, "Girls need chaperons in gardens if +they need them anywhere. I made Nicholas Rawdon a promise in Mossgill +Garden I've had to spend all my life since trying to keep." + +"Tyrrel and I have been sitting under the plane tree watching the bees. +They are such busy, sensible creatures." + +"They are that," answered Mrs. Rawdon. "If you knew all about them you +would wonder a bit. My father had a great many; he studied their ways +and used to laugh at the ladies of the hive being so like the ladies of +the world. You see the young lady bees are just as inexperienced as a +schoolgirl. They get lost in the flowers, and are often so overtaken and +reckless, that the night finds them far from the hive, heavy with +pollen and chilled with cold. Sometimes father would lift one of these +imprudent young things, carry it home, and try to get it admitted. He +never could manage it. The lady bees acted just as women are apt to do +when other women GO where they don't go, or DO as they don't do." + +"But this is interesting," said Ruth. "Pray, how did the ladies of the +hive behave to the culprit?" + +"They came out and felt her all over, turned her round and round, and +then pushed her out of their community. There was always a deal of +buzzing about the poor, silly thing, and I shouldn't wonder if their +stings were busy too. Bees are ill-natured as they can be. Well, well, +I don't blame anyone for sitting in the garden such a day as this; only, +as I was saying, gardens have been very dangerous places for women as +far as I know." + +Ruth laughed softly. "I shall take a chaperon with me, then, when I go +into the garden." + +"I would, dearie. There's the Judge; he's a very suitable, +sedate-looking one but you never can tell. The first woman found in a +garden and a tree had plenty of sorrow for herself and every woman that +has lived after her. I wish Nicholas and John Thomas would come. I'll +warrant they're talking what they call politics." + +Politics was precisely the subject which had been occupying them, for +when Tyrrel entered the dining-room, the Squire, Judge Rawdon, and +Mr. Nicholas Rawdon were all standing, evidently just finishing a +Conservative argument against the Radical opinions of John Thomas. The +young man was still sitting, but he rose with smiling good-humor as +Tyrrel entered. + +"Here is Cousin Tyrrel," he cried; "he will tell you that you may call +a government anything you like radical, conservative, republican, +democratic, socialistic, but if it isn't a CHEAP government, it isn't a +good government; and there won't be a cheap government in England till +poor men have a deal to say about making laws and voting taxes." + +"Is that the kind of stuff you talk to our hands, John Thomas? No wonder +they are neither to hold nor to bind." + +They were in the hall as John Thomas finished his political creed, and +in a few minutes the adieux were said, and the wonderful day was over. +It had been a wonderful day for all, but perhaps no one was sorry for a +pause in life--a pause in which they might rest and try to realize what +it had brought and what it had taken away. The Squire went at once to +his room, and Ethel looked at Ruth inquiringly. She seemed exhausted, +and was out of sympathy with all her surroundings. + +"What enormous vitality these Yorkshire women must have!" she said +almost crossly. "Mrs. Rawdon has been talking incessantly for six hours. +She has felt all she said. She has frequently risen and walked about. +She has used all sorts of actions to emphasize her words, and she is as +fresh as if she had just taken her morning bath. How do the men stand +them?" + +"Because they are just as vital. John Thomas will overlook and scold +and order his thousand hands all day, talk even his mother down while he +eats his dinner, and then lecture or lead his Musical Union, or conduct +a poor man's concert, or go to 'the Weaver's Union,' and what he calls +'threep them' for two or three hours that labor is ruining capital, +and killing the goose that lays golden eggs for them. Oh, they are a +wonderful race, Ruth!" + +"I really can't discuss them now, Ethel." + +"Don't you want to know what Tyrrel said to me this afternoon?" + +"My dear, I know. Lovers have said such things before, and lovers will +say them evermore. You shall tell me in the morning. I thought he looked +distrait and bored with our company." + +Indeed, Tyrrel was so remarkably quiet that John Thomas also noticed his +mood, and as they sat smoking in Tyrrel's room, he resolved to find out +the reason, and with his usual directness asked: + +"What do you think of Ethel Rawdon, Tyrrel." + +"I think she is the most beautiful woman I ever saw. She has also the +most sincere nature, and her high spirit is sweetly tempered by her +affectionate heart." + +"I am glad you know so much about her. Look here, Cousin Tyrrel, I +fancied to-night you were a bit jealous of me. It is easy to see you are +in love, and I've no doubt you were thinking of the days when you would +be thousands of miles away, and I should have the ground clear and so +on, eh?" + +"Suppose I was, cousin, what then?" + +"You would be worrying for nothing. I don't want to marry Ethel Rawdon. +If I did, you would have to be on the ground all the time, and then I +should best you; but I picked out my wife two years ago, and if we are +both alive and well, we are going to be married next Christmas." + +"I am delighted. I----" + +"I thought you would be." + +"Who is the young lady?" + +"Miss Lucy Watson. Her father is the Independent minister. He is a +gentleman, though his salary is less than we give our overseer. And he +is a great scholar. So is Lucy. She finished her course at college this +summer, and with high honors. Bless you, Tyrrel, she knows far more +than I do about everything but warps and looms and such like. I admire a +clever woman, and I'm proud of Lucy." + +"Where is she now?" + +"Well, she was a bit done up with so much study, and so she went to +Scarborough for a few weeks. She has an aunt there. The sea breezes and +salt water soon made her fit for anything. She may be home very soon +now. Then, Tyrrel, you'll see a beauty--face like a rose, hair brown as +a nut, eyes that make your heart go galloping, the most enticing mouth, +the prettiest figure, and she loves me with all her heart. When she says +'John Thomas, dear one,' I tremble with pleasure, and when she lets me +kiss her sweet mouth, I really don't know where I am. What would you say +if a girl whispered, 'I love you, and nobody but you,' and gave you a +kiss that was like--like wine and roses? Now what would you say?" + +"I know as little as you do what I would say. It's a situation to make a +man coin new words. I suppose your family are pleased." + +"Well, I never thought about my family till I had Lucy's word. Then I +told mother. She knew Lucy all through. Mother has a great respect for +Independents, and though father sulked a bit at first, mother had it +out with him one night, and when mother has father quiet in their room +father comes to see things just as she wants him. I suppose that's the +way with wives. Lucy will be just like that. She's got a sharp little +temper, too. She'll let me have a bit of it, no doubt, now and then." + +"Will you like that?" + +"I wouldn't care a farthing for a wife without a bit of temper. There +would be no fun in living with a woman of that kind. My father would +droop and pine if mother didn't spur him on now and then. And he likes +it. Don't I know? I've seen mother snappy and awkward with him all +breakfast time, tossing her head, and rattling the china, and declaring +she was worn out with men that let all the good bargains pass them; +perhaps making fun of us because we couldn't manage to get along without +strikes. She had no strikes with her hands, she'd like to see her women +stand up and talk to her about shorter hours, and so on; and father +would look at me sly-like, and as we walked to the mill together he'd +laugh contentedly and say, 'Your mother was quite refreshing this +morning, John Thomas. She has keyed me up to a right pitch. When +Jonathan Arkroyd comes about that wool he sold us I'll be all ready +for him.' So you see I'm not against a sharp temper. I like women as +Tennyson says English girls are, 'roses set round with little wilful +thorns,' eh?" + +Unusual as this conversation was, its general tone was assumed by Ethel +in her confidential talk with Ruth the following day. Of course, Ruth +was not at all surprised at the news Ethel brought her, for though the +lovers had been individually sure they had betrayed their secret to +no one, it had really been an open one to Ruth since the hour of their +meeting. She was sincerely ardent in her praises of Tyrrel Rawdon, +but--and there is always a but--she wondered if Ethel had "noticed what +a quick temper he had." + +"Oh, yes," answered Ethel, "I should not like him not to have a quick +temper. I expect my husband to stand up at a moment's notice for either +mine or his own rights or opinions." + +And in the afternoon when all preliminaries had been settled and +approved, Judge Rawdon expressed himself in the same manner to Ruth. +"Yes," he said, in reply to her timid suggestion of temper, "you +can strike fire anywhere with him if you try it, but he has it under +control. Besides, Ethel is just as quick to flame up. It will be Rawdon +against Rawdon, and Ethel's weapons are of finer, keener steel than +Tyrrel's. Ethel will hold her own. It is best so." + +"How did the Squire feel about such a marriage?" + +"He was quite overcome with delight. Nothing was said to Tyrrel about +Ethel having bought the reversion of Rawdon Manor, for things have been +harder to get into proper shape than I thought they would be, and it may +be another month before all is finally settled; but the Squire has the +secret satisfaction, and he was much affected by the certainty of a +Rawdon at Rawdon Court after him. He declined to think of it in any +other way but 'providential,' and of course I let him take all the +satisfaction he could out of the idea. Ever since he heard of the +engagement he has been at the organ singing the One Hundred and Third +Psalm." + +"He is the dearest and noblest of men. How soon shall we go home now?" + +"In about a month. Are you tired of England?" + +"I shall be glad to see America again. There was a letter from Dora this +morning. They sail on the twenty-third." + +"Do you know anything of Mostyn?" + +"Since he wrote us a polite farewell we have heard nothing." + +"Do you think he went to America?" + +"I cannot tell. When he bid us good-by he made no statement as to his +destination; he merely said 'he was leaving England on business.'" + +"Well, Ruth, we shall sail as soon as I am satisfied all is right. There +is a little delay about some leases and other matters. In the meantime +the lovers are in Paradise wherever we locate them." + +And in Paradise they dwelt for another four weeks. The ancient garden +had doubtless many a dream of love to keep, but none sweeter or truer +than the idyl of Tyrrel and Ethel Rawdon. They were never weary of +rehearsing it; every incident of its growth had been charming and +romantic, and, as they believed, appointed from afar. As the sum-mer +waxed hotter the beautiful place took on an appearance of royal color +and splendor, and the air was languid with the perfume of the clove +carnations and tall white August lilies. Fluted dahlias, scarlet +poppies, and all the flowers that exhale their spice in the last hot +days of August burned incense for them. Their very hair was laden with +odor, their fingers flower-sweet, their minds took on the many colors of +their exquisite surroundings. + +And it was part of this drama of love and scent and color that they +should see it slowly assume the more ethereal loveliness of September, +and watch the subtle amber rays shine through the thinning boughs, and +feel that all nature was becoming idealized. The birds were then mostly +silent. They had left their best notes on the hawthorns and among the +roses; but the crickets made a cheerful chirrup, and the great brown +butterflies displayed their richest velvets, and the gossamer-like +insects in the dreamy atmosphere performed dances and undulations full +of grace and mystery. And all these marvelous changes imparted to love +that sweet sadness which is beyond all words poetic and enchaining. + +Yet however sweet the hours, they pass away, and it is not much memory +can save from the mutable, happy days of love. Still, when the hour of +departure came they had garnered enough to sweeten all the after-straits +and stress of time. September had then perceptibly begun to add to +the nights and shorten the days, and her tender touch had been laid on +everything. With a smile and a sigh the Rawdons turned their faces to +their pleasant home in the Land of the West. It was to be but a short +farewell. They had promised the Squire to return the following summer, +but he felt the desolation of the parting very keenly. With his hat +slightly lifted above his white head, he stood watching them out of +sight. Then he went to his organ, and very soon grand waves of melody +rolled outward and upward, and blended themselves with the clear, +soaring voice of Joel, the lad who blew the bellows of the instrument, +and shared all his master's joy in it. They played and sang until the +Squire rose weary, but full of gladness. The look of immortality was in +his eyes, its sure and certain hope in his heart. He let Joel lead him +to his chair by the window, and then he said to himself with visible +triumph: + +"What Mr. Spencer or anyone else writes about 'the Unknowable' I care +not. I KNOW IN WHOM I have believed. Joel, sing that last sequence +again. Stand where I can see thee." And the lad's joyful voice rang +exulting out: + +"Lord, Thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. Before the +mountains were brought forth, or ever Thou hadst formed the world, from +everlasting to everlasting Thou art God! Thou art God! Thou art God!" + +"That will do, Joel. Go thy ways now. Lord, Thou hast been our +dwelling-place in all generations. 'Unknowable,' Thou hast been our +dwelling-place in all generations. No, no, no, what an ungrateful sinner +I would be to change the Lord everlasting for the Unknowable.'" + + + +CHAPTER IX + +NEW YORK is at its very brightest and best in October. This month of the +year may be safely trusted not to disappoint. The skies are blue, the +air balmy, and there is generally a delightful absence of wind. The +summer exiles are home again from Jersey boarding houses, and mountain +camps, and seaside hotels, and thankful to the point of hilarity that +this episode of the year is over, that they can once more dwell under +their own roofs without breaking any of the manifest laws of the great +goddess Custom or Fashion. + +Judge Rawdon's house had an especially charming "at home" appearance. +During the absence of the family it had been made beautiful inside and +outside, and the white stone, the plate glass, and falling lace evident +to the street, had an almost conscious look of luxurious propriety. + +The Judge frankly admitted his pleasure in his home surroundings. He +said, as they ate their first meal in the familiar room, that "a visit +to foreign countries was a grand, patriotic tonic." He vowed that the +"first sight of the Stars and Stripes at Sandy Hook had given him the +finest emotion he had ever felt in his life," and was altogether in +his proudest American mood. Ruth sympathized with him. Ethel listened +smiling. She knew well that the English strain had only temporarily +exhausted itself; it would have its period of revival at the proper +time. + +"I am going to see grandmother," she said gayly. "I shall stay with her +all day." + +"But I have a letter from her," interrupted the Judge, "and she will not +return home until next week." + +"I am sorry. I was anticipating so eagerly the joy of seeing her. Well, +as I cannot do so, I will go and call on Dora Stanhope." + +"I would not if I were you, Ethel," said Ruth. "Let her come and call on +you." + +"I had a little note from her this morning, welcoming me home, and +entreating me to call." + +The Judge rose as Ethel was speaking, and no more was said about the +visit at that time but a few hours later Ethel came down from her room +ready for the street and frankly told Ruth she had made up her mind to +call on Dora. + +"Then I will only remind you, Ethel, that Dora is not a fortunate woman +to know. As far as I can see, she is one of those who sow pain of heart +and vexation of spirit about every house they enter, even their own. +But I cannot gather experience for you, it will have to grow in your own +garden." + +"All right, dear Ruth, and if I do not like its growth, I will pull it +up by the roots, I assure you." + +Ruth went with her to the door and watched her walk leisurely down the +broad steps to the street. The light kindled in her eyes and on her face +as she did so. She already felt the magnetism of the great city, and +with a laughing farewell walked rapidly toward Dora's house. + +Her card brought an instant response, and she heard Dora's welcome +before the door was opened. And her first greeting was an enthusiastic +compliment, "How beautiful you have grown, Ethel!" she cried. "Ah, that +is the European finish. You have gained it, my dear; you really are very +much improved." + +"And you also, Dora?" + +The words were really a question, but Dora accepted them as an +assertion, and was satisfied. + +"I suppose I am," she answered, "though I'm sure I can't tell how it +should be so, unless worry of all kinds is good for good looks. I've had +enough of that for a lifetime." + +"Now, Dora." + +"Oh, it's the solid truth--partly your fault too." + +"I never interfered----" + +"Of course you didn't, but you ought to have interfered. When you called +on me in London you might have seen that I was not happy; and I wanted +to come to Rawdon Court, and you would not invite me. I called your +behavior then 'very mean,' and I have not altered my opinion of it." + +"There were good reasons, Dora, why I could not ask you." + +"Good reasons are usually selfish ones, Ethel, and Fred Mostyn told me +what they were. + +"He likely told you untruths, Dora, for he knew nothing about my +reasons. I saw very little of him." + +"I know. You treated him as badly as you treated me, and all for some +wild West creature--a regular cowboy, Fred said, but then a Rawdon!" + +"Mr. Mostyn has misrepresented Mr. Tyrrel Rawdon--that is all about it. +I shall not explain 'how' or 'why.' Did you enjoy yourself at Stanhope +Castle?" + +"Enjoy myself! Are you making fun of me? Ethel, dear, it was the most +awful experience. You never can imagine such a life, and such women. +They were dressed for a walk at six o'clock; they had breakfast at +half-past seven. They went to the village and inspected cottages, and +gave lessons in housekeeping or dressmaking or some other drudgery till +noon. They walked back to the Castle for lunch. They attended to their +own improvement from half-past one until four, had lessons in drawing +and chemistry, and, I believe, electricity. They had another walk, and +then indulged themselves with a cup of tea. They dressed and received +visitors, and read science or theology between whiles. There was always +some noted preacher or scholar at the dinner table. The conversation was +about acids and explosives, or the planets or bishops, or else on the +never, never-ending subject of elevating the workingman and building +schools for his children. Basil, of course, enjoyed it. He thought he +was giving me a magnificent object lesson. He was never done praising +the ladies Mary Elinor and Adelaide Stanhope. I'm sure I wish he had +married one or all of them--and I told him so." + +"You could not be so cruel, Dora." + +"I managed it with the greatest ease imaginable. He was always trotting +at their side. They spoke of him as 'the most pious young man.' I have +no doubt they were all in love with him. I hope they were. I used to +pretend to be very much in love when they were present. I dare say it +made them wretched. Besides, they blushed and thought me improper. Basil +didn't approve, either, so I hit all round." + +She rose at this memory and shook out her silk skirts, and walked up and +down the room with an air that was the visible expression of the mockery +and jealousy in her heart. This was an entirely different Dora to the +lachrymose, untidy wife at the Savoy Hotel in London, and Ethel had a +momentary pang at the thought of the suffering which was responsible for +the change. + +"If I had thought, Dora, you were so uncomfortable, I would have asked +Basil and you to the Court." + +"You saw I was not happy when I was at the Savoy." + +"I thought you and Basil had had a kind of lovers' quarrel, and that it +would blow over in an hour or two; no one likes to meddle with an affair +of that kind. Are you going to Newport, or is Mrs. Denning in New York?" + +"That is another trouble, Ethel. When I wrote mother I wanted to come to +her, she sent me word she was going to Lenox with a friend. Then, like +you, she said 'she had no liberty to invite me,' and so on. I never knew +mother act in such a way before. I nearly broke my heart about it for a +few days, then I made up my mind I wouldn't care." + +"Mrs. Denning, I am sure, thought she did the wisest and kindest thing +possible." + +"I didn't want mother to be wise. I wanted her to understand that I was +fairly worn out with my present life and needed a change. I'm sure +she did understand. Then why was she so cruel?" and she shrugged +her shoulders impatiently and sat down. "I'm so tired of life," she +continued. "When did you hear of Fred Mostyn?" + +"I know nothing of his movements. Is he in America?" + +"Somewhere. I asked mother if he was in Newport, and she never answered +the ques-tion. I suppose he will be in New York for the winter season. I +hope so." + +This topic threatened to be more dangerous than the other, and +Ethel, after many and futile attempts to bring conversation into safe +commonplace channels, pleaded other engagements and went away. She was +painfully depressed by the interview. All the elements of tragedy were +gathered together under the roof she had just left, and, as far as she +could see, there was no deliverer wise and strong enough to prevent a +calamity. She did not repeat to Ruth the conversation which had been so +painful to her. She described Dora's dress and appearance, and commented +on Fred Mostyn's description of Tyrrel Rawdon, and on Mrs. Denning's +refusal of her daughter's proposed visit. + +Ruth thought the latter circumstance significant. "I dare say Mostyn +was in Newport at that time," she answered. "Mrs. Denning has some very +quick perceptions." And Ruth's opinion was probably correct, for during +dinner the Judge remarked in a casual manner that he had met Mr. Mostyn +on the avenue as he was coming home. "He was well," he said, "and made +all the usual inquiries as to your health." And both Ruth and Ethel +understood that he wished them to know of Mostyn's presence in the city, +and to be prepared for meeting him; but did not care to discuss +the subject further, at least at that time. The information brought +precisely the same thought at the same moment to both women, and as soon +as they were alone they uttered it. + +"She knew Mostyn was in the city," said Ethel in a low voice. + +"Certainly." + +"She was expecting him." + +"I am sure of it." + +"Her elaborate and beautiful dressing was for him." + +"Poor Basil!" + +"She asked me to stay and lunch with her, but very coolly, and when +I refused, did not press the matter as she used to do. Yes, she was +expecting him. I understand now her nervous manner, her restlessness, +her indifference to my short visit. I wish I could do anything." + +"You cannot, and you must not try." + +"Some one must try." + +"There is her husband. Have you heard from Tyrrel yet." + +"I have had a couple of telegrams. He will write from Chicago." + +"Is he going at once to the Hot Springs?" + +"As rapidly as possible. Colonel Rawdon is now there, and very ill. +Tyrrel will put his father first of all. The trouble at the mine can be +investigated afterwards." + +"You will miss him very much. You have been so happy together." + +"Of course I shall miss him. But it will be a good thing for us to be +apart awhile. Love must have some time in which to grow. I am a little +tired of being very happy, and I think Tyrrel also will find absence a +relief. In 'Lalla Rookh' there is a line about love 'falling asleep in a +sameness of splendor.' It might. How melancholy is a long spell of hot, +sunshiny weather, and how gratefully we welcome the first shower of +rain." + +"Love has made you a philosopher, Ethel." + +"Well, it is rather an advantage than otherwise. I am going to take a +walk, Ruth, into the very heart of Broadway. I have had enough of the +peace of the country. I want the crack, and crash, and rattle, and grind +of wheels, the confused cries, the snatches of talk and laughter, the +tread of crowds, the sound of bells, and clocks, and chimes. I long for +all the chaotic, unintelligible noise of the streets. How suggestive +it is! Yet it never explains itself. It only gives one a full sense of +life. Love may need just the same stimulus. I wish grandmother would +come home. I should not require Broadway as a stimulus. I am afraid she +will be very angry with me, and there will be a battle royal in Gramercy +Park." + +It was nearly a week before Ethel had this crisis to meet. She went down +to it with a radiant face and charming manner, and her reception was +very cordial. Madam would not throw down the glove until the proper +moment; besides, there were many very interesting subjects to talk over, +and she wanted "to find things out" that would never be told unless +tempers were propitious. Added to these reasons was the solid one that +she really adored her granddaughter, and was immensely cheered by the +very sight of the rosy, smiling countenance lifted to her sitting-room +window in passing. She, indeed, pretended to be there in order to get +a good light for her new shell pattern, but she was watching for Ethel, +and Ethel understood the shell-pattern fiction very well. She had heard +something similar often. + +"My darling grandmother," she cried, "I thought you would never come +home." + +"It wasn't my fault, dear. Miss Hillis and an imbecile young doctor made +me believe I had a cold. I had no cold. I had nothing at all but what +I ought to have. I've been made to take all sorts of things, and do all +sorts of things that I hate to take and hate to do. For ten days I've +been kicking my old heels against bedclothes. Yesterday I took things in +my own hands." + +"Never mind, Granny dear, it was all a good discipline." + +"Discipline! You impertinent young lady! Discipline for your +grandmother! Discipline, indeed! That one word may cost you a thousand +dollars, miss." + +"I don't care if it does, only you must give the thousand dollars to +poor Miss Hillis." + +"Poor Miss Hillis has had a most comfortable time with me all summer." + +"I know she has, consequently she will feel her comfortless room and +poverty all the more after it. Give her the thousand, Granny. I'm +willing." + +"What kind of company have you been keeping, Ethel Rawdon? Who has +taught you to squander dollars by the thousand? Discipline! I think you +are giving me a little now--a thousand dollars a lesson, it seems--no +wonder, after the carryings-on at Rawdon Court." + +"Dear grandmother, we had the loveliest time you can imagine. And there +is not, in all the world, such a noble old gentleman as Squire Percival +Rawdon." + +"I know all about Percival Rawdon--a proud, careless, extravagant, +loose-at-ends man, dancing and singing and loving as it suited time and +season, taking no thought for the future, and spending with both hands; +hard on women, too, as could be." + +"Grandmother, I never saw a more courteous gentleman. He worships women. +He was never tired of talking about you." + +"What had he to say about me?" + +"That you were the loveliest girl in the county, and that he never could +forget the first time he saw you. He said you were like the vision of an +angel." + +"Nonsense! I was just a pretty girl in a book muslin frock and a white +sash, with a rose at my breast. I believe they use book muslin for +linings now, but it did make the sheerest, lightest frocks any girl +could want. Yes, I remember that time. I was going to a little party and +crossing a meadow to shorten the walk, and Squire Percival had been out +with his gun, and he laid it down and ran to help me over the stile. A +handsome young fellow he was then as ever stepped in shoe leather." + +"And he must have loved you dearly. He would sit hour after hour telling +Ruth and me how bright you were, and how all the young beaux around +Monk-Rawdon adored you." + +"Nonsense! Nonsense! I had beaux to be sure. What pretty girl hasn't?" + +"And he said his brother Edward won you because he was most worthy of +your love." + +"Well, now, I chose Edward Rawdon because he was willing to come to +America. I longed to get away from Monk-Rawdon. I was faint and weary +with the whole stupid place. And the idea of living a free and equal +life, and not caring what lords and squires and their proud ladies said +or did, pleased me wonderfully. We read about Niagara and the great +prairies and the new bright cities, and Edward and I resolved to +make our home there. Your grandfather wasn't a man to like being 'the +Squire's brother.' He could stand alone." + +"Are you glad you came to America?" + +"Never sorry a minute for it. Ten years in New York is worth fifty years +in Monk-Rawdon, or Rawdon Court either." + +"Squire Percival was very fond of me. He thought I resembled you, +grandmother, but he never admitted I was as handsome as you were." + +"Well, Ethel dear, you are handsome enough for the kind of men you'll +pick up in this generation--most of them bald at thirty, wearing +spectacles at twenty or earlier, and in spite of the fuss they make +about athletics breaking all to nervous bits about fifty." + +"Grandmother, that is pure slander. I know some very fine young men, +handsome and athletic both." + +"Beauty is a matter of taste, and as to their athletics, they can run +a mile with a blacksmith, but when the thermometer rises to eighty-five +degrees it knocks them all to pieces. They sit fanning themselves like +schoolgirls, and call for juleps and ice-water. I've got eyes yet, my +dear. Squire Percival was a different kind of man; he could follow the +hounds all day and dance all night. The hunt had not a rider like +him; he balked at neither hedge, gate, nor water; a right gallant, +courageous, honorable, affectionate gentleman as ever Yorkshire bred, +and she's bred lots of superfine ones. What ever made him get into such +a mess with his estate? Your grandfather thought him as straight as a +string in money matters." + +"You said just now he was careless and extravagant." + +"Well, I did him wrong, and I'm sorry for it. How did he manage to need +eighty thousand pounds?" + +"It is rather a pitiful story, grandmother, but he never once blamed +those who were in the wrong. His son for many years had been the real +manager of the estate. He was a speculator; his grandsons were wild and +extravagant. They began to borrow money ten years ago and had to go on." + +"Whom did they borrow from?" + +"Fred Mostyn's father." + +"The devil! Excuse me, Ethel--but the name suits and may stand." + +"The dear old Squire would have taken the fault on himself if he could +have done so. They that wronged him were his own, and they were dead. He +never spoke of them but with affection." + +"Poor Percival! Your father told me he was now out of Mostyn's power; +he said you had saved the estate, but he gave me no particulars. How did +you save it?" + +"Bought it!" + +"Nonsense!" + +"House and lands and outlying farms and timber--everything." + +Then a rosy color overspread Madam's face, her eyes sparkled, she rose +to her feet, made Ethel a sweeping courtesy, and said: + +"My respect and congratulations to Ethel, Lady of Rawdon Manor." + +"Dear grandmother, what else could I do?" + +"You did right." + +"The Squire is Lord of the Manor as long as he lives. My father says I +have done well to buy it. In the future, if I do not wish to keep it, +Nicholas Rawdon will relieve me at a great financial advantage." + +"Why didn't you let Nicholas Rawdon buy it now?" + +"He would have wanted prompt possession. The Squire would have had to +leave his home. It would have broken his heart." + +"I dare say. He has a soft, loving heart. That isn't always a blessing. +It can give one a deal of suffering. And I hear you have all been making +idols of these Tyrrel-Rawdons. Fred tells me they are as vulgar a lot as +can be." + +"Fred lies! Excuse me, grandmother--but the word suits and may stand. +Mr. Nicholas is pompous, and walks as slowly as if he had to carry the +weight of his great fortune; but his manners are all right, and his +wife and son are delightful. She is handsome, well dressed, and so +good-hearted that her pretty county idioms are really charming. John +Thomas is a man by himself--not handsome, but running over with good +temper, and exceedingly clever and wide-awake. Many times I was forced +to tell myself, John Thomas would make an ideal Squire of Rawdon." + +"Why don't you marry him." + +"He never asked me." + +"What was the matter with the men?" + +"He was already engaged to a very lovely young lady." + +"I am glad she is a lady." + +"She is also very clever. She has been to college and taken high honors, +a thing I have not done." + +"You might have done and overdone that caper; you were too sensible to +try it. Well, I'm glad that part of the family is looking up. They had +the right stuff in them, and it is a good thing for families to dwell +together in unity. We have King David's word for that. My observation +leads me to think it is far better for families to dwell apart, in +unity. They seldom get along comfortably together." + +Then Ethel related many pleasant, piquant scenes between the two +families at Monk-Rawdon, and especially that one in which the room of +the first Tyrrel had been opened and his likeness restored to its +place in the family gallery. It touched the old lady to tears, and she +murmured, "Poor lad! Poor lad! I wonder if he knows! I wonder if he +knows!" + +The crucial point of Ethel's revelations had not yet been revealed, +but Madam was now in a gentle mood, and Ethel took the opportunity to +introduce her to Tyrrel Rawdon. She was expecting and waiting for this +topic, but stubbornly refused to give Ethel any help toward bringing +it forward. At last, the girl felt a little anger at her pretended +indifference, and said, "I suppose Fred Mostyn told you about Mr. Tyrrel +Rawdon, of California?" + +"Tyrrel Rawdon, of California! Pray, who may he be?" + +"The son of Colonel Rawdon, of the United States Army." + +"Oh, to be sure! Well, what of him?" + +"I am going to marry him." + +"I shall see about that." + +"We were coming here together to see you, but before we left the steamer +he got a telegram urging him to go at once to his father, who is very +ill." + +"I have not asked him to come and see me. Perhaps he will wait till I do +so." + +"If you are not going to love Tyrrel, you need not love me. I won't have +you for a grandmother any longer." + +"I did without you sixty years. I shall not live another twelve months, +and I think I can manage to do without you for a granddaughter any +longer." + +"You cannot do without me. You would break your heart, and I should +break mine." Whereupon Ethel began to cry with a passion that quite +gratified the old lady. She watched her a few moments, and then said +gently: + +"There now, that will do. When he comes to New York bring him to see me. +And don't name the man in the meantime. I won't talk about him till I've +seen him. It isn't fair either way. Fred didn't like him." + +"Fred likes no one but Dora Stanhope." + +"Eh! What! Is that nonsense going on yet?" + +Then Ethel described her last two interviews with Dora. She did this +with scrupulous fidelity, making no suggestions that might prejudice the +case. For she really wanted her grandmother's decision in order to frame +her own conduct by it. Madam was not, however, in a hurry to give it. + +"What do you think?" she asked Ethel. + +"I have known Dora for many years; she has always told me everything." + +"But nothing about Fred?" + +"Nothing." + +"Nothing to tell, perhaps?" + +"Perhaps." + +"Where does her excellent husband come in?" + +"She says he is very kind to her in his way." + +"And his way is to drag her over the world to see the cathedrals +thereof, and to vary that pleasure with inspecting schools and +reformatories and listening to great preachers. Upon my word, I feel +sorry for the child! And I know all about such excellent people as the +Stanhopes. I used to go to what they call 'a pleasant evening' with +them. We sat around a big room lit with wax candles, and held improving +conversation, or some one sang one or two of Mrs. Hemans' songs, like +'Passing Away' or 'He Never Smiled Again.' Perhaps there was a comic +recitation, at which no one laughed, and finally we had wine and hot +water--they called it 'port negus'--and tongue sandwiches and caraway +cakes. My dear Ethel, I yawn now when I think of those dreary evenings. +What must Dora have felt, right out of the maelstrom of New York's +operas and theaters and dancing parties?" + +"Still, Dora ought to try to feel some interest in the church affairs. +She says she does not care a hairpin for them, and Basil feels so hurt." + +"I dare say he does, poor fellow! He thinks St. Jude's Kindergarten and +sewing circles and missionary societies are the only joys in the world. +Right enough for Basil, but how about Dora?" + +"They are his profession; she ought to feel an interest in them." + +"Come now, look at the question sensibly. Did Dora's father bring his +'deals' and stock-jobbery home, and expect Dora and her mother to feel +an interest in them? Do doctors tell their wives about their patients, +and expect them to pay sympathizing visits? Does your father expect Ruth +and yourself to listen to his cases and arguments, and visit his poor +clients or make underclothing for them? Do men, in general, consider it +a wife's place to interfere in their profession or business?" + +"Clergymen are different." + +"Not at all. Preaching and philanthropy is their business. They get so +much a year for doing it. I don't believe St. Jude's pays Mrs. Stanhope +a red cent. There now, and if she isn't paid, she's right not to work. +Amen to that!" + +"Before she was married Dora said she felt a great interest in church +work." + +"I dare say she did. Marriage makes a deal of difference in a woman's +likes and dislikes. Church work was courting-time before marriage; after +marriage she had other opportunities." + +"I think you might speak to Fred Mostyn----" + +"I might, but it wouldn't be worth while. Be true to your friend as long +as you can. In Yorkshire we stand by our friends, right or wrong, and +we aren't too particular as to their being right. My father enjoyed +justifying a man that everyone else was down on; and I've stood by many +a woman nobody had a good word for. I was never sorry for doing it, +either. I'll be going into a strange country soon, and I should not +wonder if some of them that have gone there first will be ready to stand +by me. We don't know what friends we'll be glad of there." + +The dinner bell broke up this conversation, and Ethel during it told +Madam about the cook and cooking at the Court and at Nicholas +Rawdon's, where John Thomas had installed a French chef. Other domestic +arrangements were discussed, and when the Judge called for his daughter +at four o'clock, Madam vowed "she had spent one of the happiest days of +her life." + +"Ruth tells me," said the Judge, "that Dora Stanhope called for Ethel +soon after she left home this morning. Ruth seems troubled at the +continuance of this friendship. Have you spoken to your grandmother, +Ethel, about Dora?" + +"She has told me all there is to tell, I dare say," answered Madam. + +"Well, mother, what do you think?" + +"I see no harm in it yet awhile. It is not fair, Edward, to condemn upon +likelihoods. We are no saints, sinful men and women, all of us, and as +much inclined to forbidden fruit as any good Christians can be. Ethel +can do as she feels about it; she's got a mind of her own, and I hope to +goodness she'll not let Ruth Bayard bit and bridle it." + +Going home the Judge evidently pondered this question, for he said after +a lengthy silence, "Grandmother's ethics do not always fit the social +ethics of this day, Ethel. She criticises people with her heart, not +her intellect. You must be prudent. There is a remarkable thing called +Respectability to be reckoned with remember that." + +And Ethel answered, "No one need worry about Dora. Some women may show +the edges of their character soiled and ragged, but Dora will be sure +to have hers reputably finished with a hem of the widest propriety." +And after a short silence the Judge added, almost in soliloquy, "And, +moreover, Ethel, + + "'There's a divinity that shapes our ends, + Rough-hew them how we will.'" + + + + + +PART FOURTH -- THE REAPING OF THE SOWING + + + +CHAPTER X + +WHEN Ethel and Tyrrel parted at the steamer they did not expect a long +separation, but Colonel Rawdon never recovered his health, and for many +excellent reasons Tyrrel could not leave the dying man. Nor did Ethel +wish him to do so. Under these circumstances began the second beautiful +phase of Ethel's wooing, a sweet, daily correspondence, the best of +all preparations for matrimonial oneness and understanding. Looking for +Tyrrel's letters, reading them, and answering them passed many happy +hours, for to both it was an absolute necessity to assure each other +constantly, + + "Since I wrote thee yester eve + I do love thee, Love, believe, + Twelve times dearer, twelve hours longer, + One dream deeper one night stronger, + One sun surer--this much more + Than I loved thee, dear, before." + +And for the rest, she took up her old life with a fresh enthusiasm. + +Among these interests none were more urgent in their claims than Dora +Stanhope; and fortified by her grandmother's opinion, Ethel went at once +to call on her. She found Basil with his wife, and his efforts to make +Ethel see how much he expected from her influence, and yet at the same +time not even hint a disapproval of Dora, were almost pathetic, for he +was so void of sophistry that his innuendoes were flagrantly open to +detection. Dora felt a contempt for them, and he had hardly left the +room ere she said: + +"Basil has gone to his vestry in high spirits. When I told him you were +coming to see me to-day he smiled like an angel. He believes you will +keep me out of mischief, and he feels a grand confidence in something +which he calls 'your influence.'" + +"What do you mean by mischief?" + +"Oh, I suppose going about with Fred Mostyn. I can't help that. I must +have some one to look after me. All the young men I used to know pass me +now with a lifted hat or a word or two. The girls have forgotten me. I +don't suppose I shall be asked to a single dance this winter." + +"The ladies in St. Jude's church would make a pet of you if----" + +"The old cats and kittens! No, thank you, I am not going to church +except on Sunday mornings--that is respectable and right; but as to +being the pet of St. Jude's ladies! No, no! How they would mew over my +delinquencies, and what scratches I should get from their velvet-shod +claws! If I have to be talked about, I prefer the ladies of the world to +discuss my frailties." + +"But if I were you, I would give no one a reason for saying a word +against me. Why should you?" + +"Fred will supply them with reasons. I can't keep the man away from me. +I don't believe I want to--he is very nice and useful." + +"You are talking nonsense, things you don't mean, Dora. You are not +such a foolish woman as to like to be seen with Fred Mostyn, that little +monocular snob, after the aristocratic, handsome Basil Stanhope. The +comparison is a mockery. Basil is the finest gentleman I ever saw. +Socially, he is perfection, and----" + +"He is only a clergyman." + +"Even as a clergyman he is of religiously royal descent. There are +generations of clergymen behind him, and he is a prince in the pulpit. +Every man that knows him gives him the highest respect, every woman +thinks you the most fortunate of wives. No one cares for Fred Mostyn. +Even in his native place he is held in contempt. He had nine hundred +votes to young Rawdon's twelve thousand." + +"I don't mind that. I am going to the matinee to-morrow with Fred. He +wanted to take me out in his auto this afternoon, but when I said I +would go if you would he drew back. What is the reason? Did he make you +offer of his hand? Did you refuse it?" + +"He never made me an offer. I count that to myself as a great +compliment. If he had done such a thing, he would certainly have been +refused." + +"I can tell that he really hates you. What dirty trick did you serve him +about Rawdon Court?" + +"So he called the release of Squire Rawdon a 'dirty trick'? It would +have been a very dirty trick to have let Fred Mostyn get his way with +Squire Rawdon." + +"Of course, Ethel, when a man lends his money as an obligation he +expects to get it back again." + +"Mostyn got every farthing due him, and he wanted one of the finest +manors in Eng-land in return for the obligation. He did not get it, +thank God and my father!" + +"He will not forget your father's interference." + +"I hope he will remember it." + +"Do you know who furnished the money to pay Fred? He says he is sure +your father did not have it." + +"Tell him to ask my father. He might even ask your father. Whether my +father had the money or not was immaterial. Father could borrow any sum +he wanted, I think." + +"Whom did he borrow from?" + +"I am sure that Fred told you to ask that question. Is he writing to +you, Dora?" + +"Suppose he is?" + +"I cannot suppose such a thing. It is too impossible." + +This was the beginning of a series of events all more or less qualified +to bring about unspeakable misery in Basil's home. But there is nothing +in life like the marriage tie. The tugs it will bear and not break, the +wrongs it will look over, the chronic misunderstandings it will forgive, +make it one of the mysteries of humanity. It was not in a day or a week +that Basil Stanhope's dream of love and home was shattered. Dora had +frequent and then less frequent times of return to her better self; and +every such time renewed her husband's hope that she was merely passing +through a period of transition and assimilation, and that in the end she +would be all his desire hoped for. + +But Ethel saw what he did not see, that Mostyn was gradually inspiring +her with his own opinions, perhaps even with his own passion. In +this emergency, however, she was gratified to find that Dora's mother +appeared to have grasped the situation. For if Dora went to the theater +with Mostyn, Mrs. Denning or Bryce was also there; and the reckless +auto driving, shopping, and lunching had at least a show of +respectable association. Yet when the opera season opened, the constant +companionship of Mostyn and Dora became entirely too remarkable, not +only in the public estimation, but in Basil's miserable conception of +his own wrong. The young husband used every art and persuasion--and +failed. And his failure was too apparent to be slighted. He became +feverish and nervous, and his friends read his misery in eyes heavy +with unshed tears, and in the wasting pallor caused by his sleepless, +sorrowful nights. + +Dora also showed signs of the change so rapidly working on her. She was +sullen and passionate by turns; she complained bitterly to Ethel that +her youth and beauty had been wasted; that she was only nineteen, and +her life was over. She wanted to go to Paris, to get away from New York +anywhere and anyhow. She began to dislike even the presence of Basil. +His stately beauty offended her, his low, calm voice was the very +keynote of irritation. + +One morning near Christmas he came to her with a smiling, radiant face. +"Dora," he said, "Dora, my love, I have something so interesting to +tell you. Mrs. Colby and Mrs. Schaffler and some other ladies have a +beautiful idea. They wish to give all the children of the church under +eight years old the grandest Christmas tree imaginable--really rich +presents and they thought you might like to have it here." + +"What do you say, Basil!" + +"You were always so fond of children. You----" + +"I never could endure them." + +"We all thought you might enjoy it. Indeed, I was so sure that I +promised for you. It will be such a pleasure to me also, dear." + +"I will have no such childish nonsense in my house." + +"I promised it, Dora." + +"You had no right to do so. This is my house. My father bought it and +gave me it, and it is my own. I----" + +"It seems, then, that I intrude in your house. Is it so? Speak, Dora." + +"If you will ask questions you must take the answer. You do intrude when +you come with such ridiculous proposals--in fact, you intrude very often +lately." + +"Does Mr. Mostyn intrude?" + +"Mr. Mostyn takes me out, gives me a little sensible pleasure. You think +I can be interested in a Christmas tree. The idea!" + +"Alas, alas, Dora, you are tired of me! You do not love me! You do not +love me!" + +"I love nobody. I am sorry I got married. It was all a mistake. I will +go home and then you can get a divorce." + +At this last word the whole man changed. He was suffused, transfigured +with an anger that was at once righteous and impetuous. + +"How dare you use that word to me?" he demanded. "To the priest of +God no such word exists. I do not know it. You are my wife, willing or +unwilling. You are my wife forever, whether you dwell with me or +not. You cannot sever bonds the Almighty has tied. You are mine, Dora +Stanhope! Mine for time and eternity! Mine forever and ever!" + +She looked at him in amazement, and saw a man after an image she had +never imagined. She was terrified. She flung herself on the sofa in +a whirlwind of passion. She cried aloud against his claim. She gave +herself up to a vehement rage that was strongly infused with a childish +dismay and panic. + +"I will not be your wife forever!" she shrieked. "I will never be your +wife again--never, not for one hour! Let me go! Take your hands off me!" +For Basil had knelt down by the distraught woman, and clasping her in +his arms said, even on her lips, "You ARE my dear wife! You are my very +own dear wife! Tell me what to do. Anything that is right, reasonable I +will do. We can never part." + +"I will go to my father. I will never come back to you." And with these +words she rose, threw off his embrace, and with a sobbing cry ran, like +a terrified child, out of the room. + +He sat down exhausted by his emotion, and sick with the thought she had +evoked in that one evil word. The publicity, the disgrace, the wrong +to Holy Church--ah, that was the cruelest wound! His own wrong was hard +enough, but that he, who would gladly die for the Church, should put +her to open shame! How could he bear it? Though it killed him, he must +prevent that wrong; yes, if the right eye offended it must be plucked +out. He must throw off his cassock, and turn away from the sacred +aisles; he must--he could not say the word; he would wait a little. Dora +would not leave him; it was impossible. He waited in a trance of aching +suspense. Nothing for an hour or more broke it--no footfall, no sound of +command or complaint. He was finally in hopes that Dora slept. Then he +was called to lunch, and he made a pretense of eating it alone. Dora +sent no excuse for her absence, and he could not trust himself to make +inquiry about her. In the middle of the afternoon he heard a carriage +drive to the door, and Dora, with her jewel-case in her hand, entered +it and was driven away. The sight astounded him. He ran to her room, and +found her maid packing her clothing. The woman answered his questions +sullenly. She said "Mrs. Stanhope had gone to Mrs. Denning's, and had +left orders for her trunks to be sent there." Beyond this she was silent +and ignorant. No sympathy for either husband or wife was in her heart. +Their quarrel was interfering with her own plans; she hated both of them +in consequence. + +In the meantime Dora had reached her home. Her mother was dismayed and +hesitating, and her attitude raised again in Dora's heart the passion +which had provoked the step she had taken. She wept like a lost child. +She exclaimed against the horror of being Basil's wife forever and ever. +She reproached her mother for suffering her to marry while she was only +a child. She said she had been cruelly used in order to get the family +into social recognition. She was in a frenzy of grief at her supposed +sacrifice when her father came home. Her case was then won. With her +arms round his neck, sobbing against his heart, her tears and entreaties +on his lips, Ben Denning had no feeling and no care for anyone but his +daughter. He took her view of things at once. "She HAD been badly used. +It WAS a shame to tie a girl like Dora to sermons and such like. It was +like shutting her up in a convent." Dora's tears and complaints fired +him beyond reason. He promised her freedom whatever it cost him. + +And while he sat in his private room considering the case, all the +racial passions of his rough ancestry burning within him, Basil Stanhope +called to see him. He permitted him to come into his presence, but he +rose as he entered, and walked hastily a few steps to meet him. + +"What do you want here, sir?" he asked. + +"My wife." + +"My daughter. You shall not see her. I have taken her back to my own +care." + +"She is my wife. No one can take her from me." + +"I will teach you a different lesson." + +"The law of God." + +"The law of the land goes here. You'll find it more than you can defy." + +"Sir, I entreat you to let me speak to Dora." + +"I will not." + +"I will stay here until I see her." + +"I will give you five minutes. I do not wish to offer your profession an +insult; if you have any respect for it you will obey me." + +"Answer me one question--what have I done wrong?" + +"A man can be so intolerably right, that he becomes unbearably wrong. +You have no business with a wife and a home. You are a d---- sight too +good for a good little girl that wants a bit of innocent amusement. +Sermons and Christmas trees! Great Scott, what sensible woman would not +be sick of it all? Sir, I don't want another minute of your company. +Little wonder that my Dora is ill with it. Oblige me by leaving my house +as quietly as possible." And he walked to the door, flung it open, and +stood glaring at the distracted husband. "Go," he said. "Go at once. +My lawyer will see you in the future. I have nothing further to say to +you." + +Basil went, but not to his desolate home. He had a private key to the +vestry in his church, and in its darkness and solitude he faced the +first shock of his ruined life, for he knew well all was over. All had +been. He sank to the floor at the foot of the large cross which hung on +its bare white walls. Grief's illimitable wave went over him, and like a +drowning man he uttered an inarticulate cry of agony--the cry of a soul +that had wronged its destiny. Love had betrayed him to ruin. All he had +done must be abandoned. All he had won must be given up. Sin and shame +indeed it would be if in his person a sacrament of the Church should be +dragged through a divorce court. All other considerations paled before +this disgrace. He must resign his curacy, strip himself of the honorable +livery of heaven, obliterate his person and his name. It was a kind of +death. + +After awhile he rose, drank some water, lifted the shade and let the +moonlight in. Then about that little room he walked with God through the +long night, telling Him his sorrow and perplexity. And there is a depth +in our own nature where the divine and human are one. That night Basil +Stanhope found it, and henceforward knew that the bitterness of death +was behind him, not before. "I made my nest too dear on earth," he +sighed, "and it has been swept bare--that is, that I may build in +heaven." + +Now, the revelation of sorrow is the clearest of all revelations. +Stanhope understood that hour what he must do. No doubts weakened his +course. He went back to the house Dora called "hers," took away what he +valued, and while the servants were eating their breakfast and talking +over his marital troubles, he passed across its threshold for the last +time. He told no one where he was going; he dropped as silently and +dumbly out of the life that had known him as a stone dropped into +mid-ocean. + +Ethel considered herself fortunate in being from home at the time this +disastrous culmination of Basil Stanhope's married life was reached. On +that same morning the Judge, accompanied by Ruth and herself, had gone +to Lenox to spend the holidays with some old friends, and she was quite +ignorant of the matter when she returned after the New Year. Bryce was +her first informant. He called specially to give her the news. He said +his sister had been too ill and too busy to write. He had no word of +sympathy for the unhappy pair. He spoke only of the anxiety it had +caused him. "He was now engaged," he said, "to Miss Caldwell, and she +was such an extremely proper, innocent lady, and a member of St. Jude's, +it had really been a trying time for her." Bryce also reminded Ethel +that he had been against Basil Stanhope from the first. "He had always +known how that marriage would end," and so on. + +Ethel declined to give any opinion. "She must hear both sides," she +said. "Dora had been so reasonable lately, she had appeared happy." + +"Oh, Dora is a little fox," he replied; "she doubles on herself always." + +Ruth was properly regretful. She wondered "if any married woman was +really happy." She did not apparently concern herself about Basil. The +Judge rather leaned to Basil's consideration. He understood that Dora's +overt act had shattered his professional career as well as his personal +happiness. He could feel for the man there. "My dears," he said, with +his dilettante air, "the goddess Calamity is delicate, and her feet +are tender. She treads not upon the ground, but makes her path upon the +hearts of men." In this non-committal way he gave his comment, for he +usually found a bit of classical wisdom to fit modern emergencies, and +the habit had imparted an antique bon-ton to his conversation. Ethel +could only wonder at the lack of real sympathy. + +In the morning she went to see her grandmother. The old lady had "heard" +all she wanted to hear about Dora and Basil Stanhope. If men would +marry a fool because she was young and pretty, they must take the +consequences. "And why should Stanhope have married at all?" she asked +indignantly. "No man can serve God and a woman at the same time. He +had to be a bad priest and a good husband, or a bad husband and a good +priest. Basil Stanhope was honored, was doing good, and he must needs be +happy also. He wanted too much, and lost everything. Serve him right." + +"All can now find some fault in poor Basil Stanhope," said Ethel. +"Bryce was bitter against him because Miss Caldwell shivers at the word +'divorce.'" + +"What has Bryce to do with Jane Caldwell?" + +"He is going to marry her, he says." + +"Like enough; she's a merry miss of two-score, and rich. Bryce's +marriage with anyone will be a well-considered affair--a marriage with +all the advantages of a good bargain. I'm tired of the whole subject. +If women will marry they should be as patient as Griselda, in case there +ever was such a woman; if not, there's an end of the matter." + +"There are no Griseldas in this century, grandmother." + +"Then there ought to be no marriages. Basil Stanhope was a grand man in +public. What kind of a man was he in his home? Measure a man by his +home conduct, and you'll not go wrong. It's the right place to draw your +picture of him, I can tell you that." + +"He has no home now, poor fellow." + +"Whose fault was it? God only knows. Where is his wife?" + +"She has gone to Paris." + +"She has gone to the right place if she wants to play the fool. But +there, now, God forbid I should judge her in the dark. Women should +stand by women--considering." + +"Considering?" + +"What they may have to put up with. It is easy to see faults in others. +I have sometimes met with people who should see faults in themselves. +They are rather uncommon, though." + +"I am sure Basil Stanhope will be miserable all his life. He will break +his heart, I do believe." + +"Not so. A good heart is hard to break, it grows strong in trouble. +Basil Stanhope's body will fail long before his heart does; and even so +an end must come to life, and after that peace or what God wills." + +This scant sympathy Ethel found to be the usual tone among her +acquaintances. St. Jude's got a new rector and a new idol, and the +Stanhope affair was relegated to the limbo of things "it was proper to +forget." + +So the weeks of the long winter went by, and Ethel in the joy and hope +of her own love-life naturally put out of her mind the sorrow of lives +she could no longer help or influence. Indeed, as to Dora, there were +frequent reports of her marvelous social success in Paris; and Ethel +did not doubt Stanhope had found some everlasting gospel of holy work to +comfort his desolation. And then also + + "Each day brings its petty dust, + Our soon-choked souls to fill; + And we forget because we must, + And not because we will." + + +One evening when May with heavy clouds and slant rains was making the +city as miserable as possible, Ethel had a caller. His card bore a name +quite unknown, and his appearance gave no clew to his identity. + +"Mr. Edmonds?" she said interrogatively. + +"Are you Miss Ethel Rawdon?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"Mr. Basil Stanhope told me to put this parcel in your hands." + +"Oh, Mr. Stanhope! I am glad to hear from him. Where is he now?" + +"We buried him yesterday. He died last Sunday as the bells were ringing +for church--pneumonia, miss. While reading the ser-vice over a poor +young man he had nursed many weeks he took cold. The poor will miss him +sorely." + +"DEAD!" She looked aghast at the speaker, and again ejaculated the +pitiful, astounding word. + +"Good evening, miss. I promised him to return at once to the work he +left me to do." And he quietly departed, leaving Ethel standing with the +parcel in her hands. She ran upstairs and locked it away. Just then she +could not bear to open it. + +"And it is hardly twelve months since he was married," she sobbed. "Oh, +Ruth, Ruth, it is too cruel!" + +"Dear," answered Ruth, "there is no death to such a man as Basil +Stanhope." + +"He was so young, Ruth." + +"I know. 'His high-born brothers called him hence' at the age of +twenty-nine, but + + "'It is not growing like a tree, + In bulk, doth make men better be; + Or standing like an oak three hundred year, + To fall at last, dry, bald and sear: + A lily of a day + Is fairer far in May; + Although it fall and die that night, + It was the plant and flower of light.'" + + +At these words the Judge put down his Review to listen to Ethel's story, +and when she ceased speaking he had gone far further back than any +antique classic for compensation and satisfaction: + +"He being made perfect in a short time fulfilled a long time. For his +soul pleased the Lord, therefore hasted He to take him away from among +the wicked." [2] And that evening there was little conversation. Every +heart was busy with its own thoughts. + +[Footnote 2: Wisdom of Solomon, IV., 13, 14.] + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +TRADE and commerce have their heroes as well as arms, and the struggle +in which Tyrrel Rawdon at last plucked victory from apparent failure was +as arduous a campaign as any military operations could have afforded. It +had entailed on him a ceaseless, undaunted watch over antagonists rich +and powerful; and a fight for rights which contained not only his own +fortune, but the honor of his father, so that to give up a fraction of +them was to turn traitor to the memory of a parent whom he believed +to be beyond all doubt or reproach. Money, political power, civic +influence, treachery, bribery, the law's delay and many other +hindrances met him on every side, but his heart was encouraged daily to +perseverance by love's tenderest sympathy. For he told Ethel everything, +and received both from her fine intuitions and her father's legal skill +priceless comfort and advice. But at last the long trial was over, the +marriage day was set, and Tyrrel, with all his rights conceded, was +honorably free to seek the happiness he had safeguarded on every side. + +It was a lovely day in the beginning of May, nearly two years after +their first meeting, when Tyrrel reached New York. Ethel knew at what +hour his train would arrive, she was watching and listening for his +step. They met in each other's arms, and the blessed hours of that happy +evening were an over-payment of delight for the long months of their +separation. + +In the morning Ethel was to introduce her lover to Madam Rawdon, and +side by side, almost hand in hand, they walked down the avenue together. +Walked? They were so happy they hardly knew whether their feet touched +earth or not. They had a constant inclination to clasp hands, to run as +little children run; They wished to smile at everyone, to bid all the +world good morning. Madam had resolved to be cool and careful in her +advances, but she quickly found herself unable to resist the sight of +so much love and hope and happiness. The young people together took her +heart by storm, and she felt herself compelled to express an interest in +their future, and to question Tyrrel about it. + +"What are you going to do with yourself or make of yourself?" she asked +Tyrrel one evening when they were sitting together. "I do hope you'll +find some kind of work. Anything is better than loafing about clubs and +such like places." + +"I am going to study law with Judge Rawdon. My late experience has +taught me its value. I do not think I shall loaf in his office." + +"Not if he is anywhere around. He works and makes others work. Lawyering +is a queer business, but men can be honest in it if they want to." + +"And, grandmother," said Ethel, "my father says Tyrrel has a wonderful +gift for public speaking. He made a fine speech at father's club last +night. Tyrrel will go into politics." + +"Will he, indeed? Tyrrel is a wonder. If he manages to walk his shoes +straight in the zigzaggery ways of the law, he will be one of that grand +breed called 'exceptions.' As for politics, I don't like them, far from +it. Your grandfather used to say they either found a man a rascal or +made him one. However, I'm ready to compromise on law and politics. I +was afraid with his grand voice he would set up for a tenor." + +Tyrrel laughed. "I did once think of that role," he said. + +"I fancied that. Whoever taught you to use your voice knew a thing or +two about singing. I'll say that much." + +"My mother taught me." + +"Never! I wonder now!" + +"She was a famous singer. She was a great and a good woman. I owe her +for every excellent quality there is in me." + +"No, you don't. You have got your black eyes and hair her way, +I'll warrant that, but your solid make-up, your pluck and grit and +perseverance is the Rawdon in you. Without Rawdon you would very +likely now be strutting about some opera stage, playing at kings and +lovemaking." + +"As it is----" + +"As it is, you will be lord consort of Rawdon Manor, with a silver mine +to back you." + +"I am sorry about the Manor," said Tyrrel. "I wish the dear old Squire +were alive to meet Ethel and myself." + +"To be sure you do. But I dare say that he is glad now to have passed +out of it. Death is a mystery to those left, but I have no doubt it +is satisfying to those who have gone away. He died as he lived, very +properly; walked in the garden that morning as far as the strawberry +beds, and the gardener gave him the first ripe half-dozen in a young +cabbage leaf, and he ate them like a boy, and said they tasted as +if grown in Paradise, then strolled home and asked Joel to shake the +pillows on the sofa in the hall, laid himself down, shuffled his head +easy among them, and fell on sleep. So Death the Deliverer found him. A +good going home! Nothing to fear in it." + +"Ethel tells me that Mr. Mostyn is now living at Mostyn Hall." + +"Yes, he married that girl he would have sold his soul for and took her +there, four months only after her husband's death. When I was young he +durst not have done it, the Yorkshire gentry would have cut them both." + +"I think," said Tyrrel, "American gentlemen of to-day felt much the +same. Will Madison told me that the club cut him as soon as Mrs. +Stanhope left her husband. He went there one day after it was known, and +no one saw him; finally he walked up to McLean, and would have sat down, +but McLean said, 'Your company is not desired, Mr. Mostyn.' Mostyn said +something in re-ply, and McLean answered sternly, 'True, we are none +of us saints, but there are lines the worst of us will not pass; and +if there is any member of this club willing to interfere between a +bridegroom and his bride, I would like to kick him out of it.' +Mostyn struck the table with some exclamation, and McLean continued, +'Especially when the wronged husband is a gentleman of such stainless +character and unsuspecting nature as Basil Stanhope--a clergyman also! +Oh, the thing is beyond palliation entirely!' And he walked away and +left Mostyn." + +"Well," said Madam, "if it came to kicking, two could play that game. +Fred is no coward. I don't want to hear another word about them. They +will punish each other without our help. Let them alone. I hope you are +not going to have a crowd at your wedding. The quietest weddings are the +luckiest ones." + +"About twenty of our most intimate friends are invited to the church," +said Ethel. "There will be no reception until we return to New York in +the fall." + +"No need of fuss here, there will be enough when you reach Monk-Rawdon. +The village will be garlanded and flagged, the bells ring-ing, and all +your tenants and retainers out to meet you." + +"We intend to get into our own home without anyone being aware of it. +Come, Tyrrel, my dressmaker is waiting, I know. It is my wedding gown, +dear Granny, and oh, so lovely!" + +"You will not be any smarter than I intend to be, miss. You are shut off +from color. I can outdo you." + +"I am sure you can--and will. Here comes father. What can he want?" They +met him at the door, and with a few laughing words left him with Madam. +She looked curiously into his face and asked, "What is it, Edward?" + +"I suppose they have told you all the arrangements. They are very +simple. Did they say anything about Ruth?" + +"They never named her. They said they were going to Washington for a +week, and then to Rawdon Court. Ruth seems out of it all. Are you going +to turn her adrift, or present her with a few thousand dollars? She has +been a mother to Ethel. Something ought to be done for Ruth Bayard." + +"I intend to marry her." + +"I thought so." + +"She will go to her sister's in Philadelphia for a month 's preparation. +I shall marry her there, and bring her home as my wife. She is a sweet, +gentle, docile woman. She will make me happy." + +"Sweet, gentle, docile! Yes, that is the style of wife Rawdon men +prefer. What does Ethel say?" + +"She is delighted. It was her idea. I was much pleased with her +thoughtfulness. Any serious break in my life would now be a great +discomfort. You need not look so satirical, mother; I thought of Ruth's +life also." + +"Also an afterthought; but Ruth is gentle and docile, and she is +satisfied, and I am satisfied, so then everything is proper and everyone +content. Come for me at ten on Wednesday morning. I shall be ready. No +refreshments, I suppose. I must look after my own breakfast. Won't you +feel a bit shabby, Edward?" And then the look and handclasp between them +turned every word into sweetness and good-will. + +And as Ethel regarded her marriage rather as a religious rite than +a social function, she objected to its details becoming in any sense +public, and her desires were to be regarded. Yet everyone may imagine +the white loveliness of the bride, the joy of the bridegroom, the +calm happiness of the family breakfast, and the leisurely, quiet +leave-taking. The whole ceremony was the right note struck at the +beginning of a new life, and they might justly expect it would move +onward in melodious sequence. + + +Within three weeks after their marriage they arrived at Rawdon Court. It +was on a day and at an hour when no one was looking for them, and +they stepped into the lovely home waiting for them without outside +observation. Hiring a carriage at the railway station, they dismissed it +at the little bridge near the Manor House, and sauntered happily through +the intervening space. The door of the great hall stood open, and the +fire, which had been burning on its big hearth unquenched for more +than three hundred years, was blazing merrily, as if some hand had just +replenished it. On the long table the broad, white beaver hat of the +dead Squire was lying, and his oak walking stick was beside it. No one +had liked to remove them. They remained just as he had put them down, +that last, peaceful morning of his life. + +In a few minutes the whole household was aware of their home-coming, and +before the day was over the whole neighborhood. Then there was no way +of avoiding the calls, the congratulations, and the entertainments +that followed, and the old Court was once more the center of a splendid +hospitality. Of course the Tyrrel-Rawdons were first on the scene, and +Ethel was genuinely glad to meet again the good-natured Mrs. Nicholas. +No one could give her better local advice, and Ethel quickly discovered +that the best general social laws require a local interpretation. Her +hands were full, her heart full, she had so many interests to share, so +many people to receive and to visit, and yet when two weeks passed and +Dora neither came nor wrote she was worried and dissatisfied. + +"Are the Mostyns at the Hall?" she asked Mrs. Nicholas at last. "I have +been expecting Mrs. Mostyn every day, but she neither comes nor writes +to me." + +"I dare say not. Poor little woman! I'll warrant she has been forbid to +do either. If Mostyn thought she wanted to see you, he would watch day +and night to prevent her coming. He's turning out as cruel a man as his +father was, and you need not say a word worse than that." + +"Cruel! Oh, dear, how dreadful! Men will drink and cheat and swear, but +a cruel man seems so unnatural, so wicked." + +"To be sure, cruelty is the joy of devils. As I said to John Thomas when +we heard about Mostyn's goings-on, we have got rid of the Wicked One, +but the wicked still remain with us." + +This conversation having been opened, was naturally prolonged by the +relation of incidents which had come through various sources to Mrs. +Rawdon's ears, all of them indicating an almost incredible system of +petty tyranny and cruel contradiction. Ethel was amazed, and finally +angry at what she heard. Dora was her countrywoman and her friend; +she instantly began to express her sympathy and her intention of +interfering. + +"You had better neither meddle nor make in the matter," answered Mrs. +Rawdon. "Our Lucy went to see her, and gave her some advice about +managing Yorkshiremen. And as she was talking Mostyn came in, and was as +rude as he dared to be. Then Lucy asked him 'if he was sick.' She said, +'All the men in the neighborhood, gentle and simple, were talking about +him, and that it wasn't a pleasant thing to be talked about in the +way they were doing it. You must begin to look more like yourself, Mr. +Mostyn; it is good advice I am giving you,' she added; and Mostyn told +her he would look as he felt, whether it was liked or not liked. +And Lucy laughed, and said, 'In that case he would have to go to his +looking-glass for company.' Well, Ethel, there was a time to joy a +devil after Lucy left, and some one of the servants went on their own +responsibility for a doctor; and Mostyn ordered him out of the house, +and he would not go until he saw Mrs. Mostyn; and the little woman was +forced to come and say 'she was quite well,' though she was sobbing all +the time she spoke. Then the doctor told Mostyn what he thought, and +there is a quarrel between them every time they meet." + +But Ethel was not deterred by these statements; on the contrary, they +stimulated her interest in her friend. Dora needed her, and the old +feeling of protection stirred her to interference. At any rate, she +could call and see the unhappy woman; and though Tyrrel was opposed to +the visit, and thought it every way unwise, Ethel was resolved to +make it. "You can drive me there," she said, "then go and see Justice +Manningham and call for me in half an hour." And this resolution was +strengthened by a pitiful little note received from Dora just after her +decision. "Mostyn has gone to Thirsk," it said; "for pity's sake come +and see me about two o'clock this afternoon." + +The request was promptly answered. As the clock struck two Ethel crossed +the threshold of the home that might have been hers. She shuddered at +the thought. The atmosphere of the house was full of fear and gloom, the +furniture dark and shabby, and she fancied the wraiths of old forgotten +crimes and sorrows were gliding about the sad, dim rooms and stairways. +Dora rose in a passion of tears to welcome her, and because time was +short instantly began her pitiful story. + +"You know how he adored me once," she said; "would you believe it, +Ethel, we were not two weeks married when he began to hate me. He +dragged me through Europe in blazing heat and blinding snows when I was +sick and unfit to move. He brought me here in the depth of winter, and +when no one called on us he blamed me; and from morning till night, and +sometimes all night long, he taunts and torments me. After he heard that +you had bought the Manor he lost all control of himself. He will not let +me sleep. He walks the floor hour after hour, declaring he could have +had you and the finest manor in England but for a cat-faced woman +like me. And he blames me for poor Basil's death--says we murdered +him together, and that he sees blood on my hands." And she looked with +terror at her small, thin hands, and held them up as if to protest +against the charge. When she next spoke it was to sob out, "Poor Basil! +He would pity me! He would help me! He would forgive me! He knows now +that Mostyn was, and is, my evil genius." + +"Do not cry so bitterly, Dora, it hurts me. Let us think. Is there +nothing you can do?" + +"I want to go to mother." Then she drew Ethel's head close to her and +whispered a few words, and Ethel answered, "You poor little one, you +shall go to your mother. Where is she?" + +"She will be in London next week, and I must see her. He will not let me +go, but go I must if I die for it. Mrs. John Thomas Rawdon told me what +to do, and I have been following her advice." + +Ethel did not ask what it was, but added, + +"If Tyrrel and I can help you, send for us. We will come. And, Dora, +do stop weeping, and be brave. Remember you are an American woman. Your +father has often told me how you could ride with Indians or cowboys +and shoot with any miner in Colorado. A bully like Mostyn is always a +coward. Lift up your heart and stand for every one of your rights. You +will find plenty of friends to stand with you." And with the words she +took her by the hands and raised her to her feet, and looked at her +with such a beaming, courageous smile that Dora caught its spirit, and +promised to insist on her claims for rest and sleep. + +"When shall I come again, Dora?" + +"Not till I send for you. Mother will be in London next Wednesday at +the Savoy. I intend to leave here Wednesday some time, and may need you; +will you come?" + +"Surely, both Tyrrel and I." + +Then the time being on a dangerous line they parted. But Ethel could +think of nothing and talk of nothing but the frightful change in her +friend, and the unceasing misery which had produced it. Tyrrel shared +all her indignation. The slow torture of any creature was an intolerable +crime in his eyes, but when the brutality was exercised on a woman, and +on a countrywoman, he was roused to the highest pitch of indignation. +When Wednesday arrived he did not leave the house, but waited with +Ethel for the message they confidently expected. It came about five +o'clock--urgent, imperative, entreating, "Come, for God's sake! He will +kill me." + +The carriage was ready, and in half an hour they were at Mostyn Hall. No +one answered their summons, but as they stood listening and waiting, +a shrill cry of pain and anger pierced the silence. It was followed by +loud voices and a confused noise--noise of many talking and exclaiming. +Then Tyrrel no longer hesitated. He opened the door easily, and taking +Ethel on his arm, suddenly entered the parlor from which the clamor +came. Dora stood in the center of the room like an enraged pythoness, +her eyes blazing with passion. + +"See!" she cried as Tyrrel entered the room--"see!" And she held out +her arm, and pointed to her shoulder from which the lace hung in shreds, +showing the white flesh, red and bruised, where Mostyn had gripped her. +Then Tyrrel turned to Mostyn, who was held tightly in the grasp of +his gardener and coachman, and foaming with a rage that rendered his +explanation almost inarticulate, especially as the three women servants +gathered around their mistress added their railing and invectives to the +general confusion. + +"The witch! The cat-faced woman!" he screamed. "She wants to go to her +mother! Wants to play the trick she killed Basil Stanhope with! She +shall not! She shall not! I will kill her first! She is mad! I will +send her to an asylum! She is a little devil! I will send her to hell! +Nothing is bad enough--nothing----" + +"Mr. Mostyn," said Tyrrel. + +"Out of my house! What are you doing here? Away! This is my house! Out +of it immediately!" + +"This man is insane," said Tyrrel to Dora. "Put on your hat and cloak, +and come home with us." + +"I am waiting for Justice Manningham," she answered with a calm +subsidence of passion that angered Mostyn more than her reproaches. +"I have sent for him. He will be here in five minutes now. That +brute"--pointing to Mostyn--"must be kept under guard till I reach my +mother. The magistrate will bring a couple of constables with him." + +"This is a plot, then! You hear it! You! You, Tyrrel Rawdon, and you, +Saint Ethel, are in it, all here on time. A plot, I say! Let me loose +that I may strangle the cat-faced creature. Look at her hands, they are +already bloody!" + +At these words Dora began to sob passionately, the servants, one and +all, to comfort her, or to abuse Mostyn, and in the height of the hubbub +Justice Manningham entered with two constables behind him. + +"Take charge of Mr. Mostyn," he said to them, and as they laid their big +hands on his shoulders the Justice added, "You will consider yourself +under arrest, Mr. Mostyn." + +And when nothing else could cow Mostyn, he was cowed by the law. He +sank almost fainting into his chair, and the Justice listened to Dora's +story, and looked indignantly at the brutal man, when she showed him her +torn dress and bruised shoulder. "I entreat your Honor," she said, "to +permit me to go to my mother who is now in London." And he answered +kindly, "You shall go. You are in a condition only a mother can help and +comfort. As soon as I have taken your deposition you shall go." + +No one paid any attention to Mostyn's disclaimers and denials. The +Justice saw the state of affairs. Squire Rawdon and Mrs. Rawdon +testified to Dora's ill-usage; the butler, the coachman, the stablemen, +the cook, the housemaids were all eager to bear witness to the same; and +Mrs. Mostyn's appearance was too eloquent a plea for any humane man to +deny her the mother-help she asked for. + +Though neighbors and members of the same hunt and clubs, the Justice +took no more friendly notice of Mostyn than he would have taken of any +wife-beating cotton-weaver; and when all lawful preliminaries had been +arranged, he told Mrs. Mostyn that he should not take up Mr. Mostyn's +case till Friday; and in the interval she would have time to put herself +under her mother's care. She thanked him, weeping, and in her old, +pretty way kissed his hands, and "vowed he had saved her life, and +she would forever remember his goodness." Mostyn mocked at her +"play-acting," and was sternly reproved by the Justice; and then Tyrrel +and Ethel took charge of Mrs. Mostyn until she was ready to leave for +London. + +She was more nearly ready than they expected. All her trunks were +packed, and the butler promised to take them immediately to the railway +station. In a quarter of an hour she appeared in traveling costume, with +her jewels in a bag, which she carried in her hand. There was a train +for London passing Monk-Rawdon at eight o'clock; and after Justice +Manningham had left, the cook brought in some dinner, which Dora asked +the Rawdons to share with her. It was, perhaps, a necessary but a +painful meal. No one noticed Mostyn. He was enforced to sit still and +watch its progress, which he accompanied with curses it would be a kind +of sacrilege to write down. But no one answered him, and no one noticed +the orders he gave for his own dinner, until Dora rose to leave forever +the house of bondage. Then she said to the cook: + +"See that those gentlemanly constables have something good to eat and to +drink, and when they have been served you may give that man"--pointing +to Mostyn--"the dinner of bread and water he has so often prescribed +for me. After my train leaves you are all free to go to your own homes. +Farewell, friends!" + +Then Mostyn raved again, and finally tried his old loving terms. "Come +back to me, Dora," he called frantically. "Come back, dearest, sweetest +Dora, I will be your lover forever. I will never say another cross word +to you." + +But Dora heard not and saw not. She left the room without a glance at +the man sitting cowering between the officers, and blubbering with shame +and passion and the sense of total loss. In a few minutes he heard the +Rawdon carriage drive to the door. Tyrrel and Ethel assisted Dora into +it, and the party drove at once to the railway station. They were just +able to catch the London train. The butler came up to report all the +trunks safely forwarded, and Dora dropped gold into his hand, and +bade him clear the house of servants as soon as the morning broke. +Fortunately there was no time for last words and promises; the train +began to move, and Tyrrel and Ethel, after watching Dora's white face +glide into the darkness, turned silently away. That depression which +so often follows the lifting of burdens not intended for our shoulders +weighed on their hearts and made speech difficult. Tyrrel was especially +affected by it. A quick feeling of something like sympathy for Mostyn +would not be reasoned away, and he drew Ethel close within his arm, and +gave the coachman an order to drive home as quickly as possible, for +twilight was already becoming night, and under the trees the darkness +felt oppressive. + +The little fire on the hearth and their belated dinner somewhat relieved +the tension; but it was not until they had retired to a small parlor, +and Tyrrel had smoked a cigar, that the tragedy of the evening became a +possible topic of conversation. Tyrrel opened the subject by a question +as to whether "he ought to have gone with Dora to London." + +"Dora opposed the idea strongly when I named it to her," answered Ethel. +"She said it would give opportunities for Mostyn to slander both herself +and you, and I think she was correct. Every way she was best alone." + +"Perhaps, but I feel as if I ought to have gone, as if I had been +something less than a gentleman; in fact, as if I had been very +un-gentle." + +"There is no need," answered Ethel a little coldly. + +"It is a terrible position for Mostyn." + +"He deserves it." + +"He is so sensitive about public opinion." + +"In that case he should behave decently in private." + +Then Tyrrel lit another cigar, and there was another silence, which +Ethel occupied in irritating thoughts of Dora's unfortunate fatality in +trouble-making. She sat at a little table standing between herself and +Tyrrel. It held his smoking utensils, and after awhile she pushed them +aside, and let the splendid rings which adorned her hand fall into the +cleared space. Tyrrel watched her a few moments, and then asked, "What +are you doing, Ethel, my dear?" + +She looked up with a smile, and then down at the hand she had laid open +upon the table. "I am looking at the Ring of all Rings. See, Tyrrel, it +is but a little band of gold, and yet it gave me more than all the gems +of earth could buy. Rubies and opals and sapphires are only its guard. +The simple wedding ring is the ring of great price. It is the loveliest +ornament a happy woman can wear." + +Tyrrel took her hand and kissed it, and kissed the golden band, and then +answered, "Truly an ornament if a happy wife wears it; but oh, Ethel, +what is it when it binds a woman to such misery as Dora has just fled +from?" + +"Then it is a fetter, and a woman who has a particle of self-respect +will break it. The Ring of all Rings!" she ejaculated again, as she +lifted the rubies and opals, and slowly but smilingly encircled the +little gold band. + +"Let us try now to forget that sorrowful woman," said Tyrrel. "She will +be with her mother in a few hours. Mother-love can cure all griefs. It +never fails. It never blames. It never grows weary. It is always young +and warm and true. Dora will be comforted. Let us forget; we can do no +more." + +For a couple of days this was possible, but then came Mrs. Nicholas +Rawdon, and the subject was perforce opened. "It was a bad case," she +said, "but it is being settled as quickly and as quietly as possible. I +believe the man has entered into some sort of recognizance to keep the +peace, and has disappeared. No one will look for him. The gentry are +against pulling one another down in any way, and this affair they +don't want talked about. Being all of them married men, it isn't to be +expected, is it? Justice Manningham was very sorry for the little +lady, but he said also 'it was a bad precedent, and ought not to be +discussed.' And Squire Bentley said, 'If English gentlemen would marry +American women, they must put up with American women's ways,' and so on. +None of them think it prudent to approve Mrs. Mostyn's course. But they +won't get off as easy as they think. The women are standing up for her. +Did you ever hear anything like that? And I'll warrant some husbands are +none so easy in their minds, as my Nicholas said, 'Mrs. Mostyn had sown +seed that would be seen and heard tell of for many a long day.' Our +Lucy, I suspect, had more to do with the move than she will confess. She +got a lot of new, queer notions at college, and I do believe in my heart +she set the poor woman up to the business. John Thomas, of course, says +not a word, but he looks at Lucy in a very proud kind of way; and I'll +be bound he has got an object lesson he'll remember as long as he lives. +So has Nicholas, though he bluffs more than a little as to what he'd +do with a wife that got a running-away notion into her head. Bless you, +dear, they are all formulating their laws on the subject, and their +wives are smiling queerly at them, and holding their heads a bit higher +than usual. I've been doing it myself, so I know how they feel." + +Thus, though very little was said in the newspapers about the affair, +the notoriety Mostyn dreaded was complete and thorough. It was the +private topic of conversation in every household. Men talked it over in +all the places where men met, and women hired the old Mostyn servants in +order to get the very surest and latest story of the poor wife's wrongs, +and then compared reports and even discussed the circumstances in their +own particular clubs. + +At the Court, Tyrrel and Ethel tried to forget, and their own interests +were so many and so important that they usually succeeded; especially +after a few lines from Mrs. Denning assured them of Dora's safety and +comfort. And for many weeks the busy life of the Manor sufficed; there +was the hay to cut in the meadow lands, and after it the wheat fields +to harvest. The stables, the kennels, the farms and timber, the park and +the garden kept Tyrrel constantly busy. And to these duties were added +the social ones, the dining and dancing and entertaining, the horse +racing, the regattas, and the enthusiasm which automobiling in its first +fever engenders. + +And yet there were times when Tyrrel looked bored, and when nothing but +Squire Percival's organ or Ethel's piano seemed to exorcise the unrest +and ennui that could not be hid. Ethel watched these moods with a +wise and kind curiosity, and in the beginning of September, when they +perceptibly increased, she asked one day, "Are you happy, Tyrrel? Quite +happy?" + +"I am having a splendid holiday," he answered, "but----" + +"But what, dear?" + +"One could not turn life into a long holiday--that would be harder than +the hardest work." + +She answered "Yes," and as soon as she was alone fell to thinking, and +in the midst of her meditation Mrs. Nicholas Rawdon entered in a whirl +of tempestuous delight. + +"What do you think?" she asked between laughing and crying. "Whatever do +you think? Our Lucy had twins yesterday, two fine boys as ever was. And +I wish you could see their grandfather and their father. They are out of +themselves with joy. They stand hour after hour beside the two cradles, +looking at the little fellows, and they nearly came to words this +morning about their names." + +"I am so delighted!" cried Ethel. "And what are you going to call them?" + +"One is an hour older than the other, and John Thomas wanted them called +Percival and Nicholas. But my Nicholas wanted the eldest called after +himself, and he said so plain enough. And John Thomas said 'he could +surely name his own sons; and then Nicholas told him to remember he +wouldn't have been here to have any sons at all but for his father.' And +just then I came into the room to have a look at the little lads, and +when I heard what they were fratching about, I told them it was none of +their business, that Lucy had the right to name the children, and they +would just have to put up with the names she gave them." + +"And has Lucy named them?" + +"To be sure. I went right away to her and explained the dilemma, and +I said, 'Now, Lucy, it is your place to settle this question.' And she +answered in her positive little way, 'You tell father the eldest is to +be called Nicholas, and tell John Thomas the youngest is to be called +John Thomas. I can manage two of that name very well. And say that +I won't have any more disputing about names, the boys are as good as +christened already.' And of course when Lucy said that we all knew it +was settled. And I'm glad the eldest is Nicholas. He is a fine, sturdy +little Yorkshireman, bawling out already for what he wants, and flying +into a temper if he doesn't get it as soon as he wants it. Dearie me, +Ethel, I am a proud woman this morning. And Nicholas is going to give +all the hands a holiday, and a trip up to Ambleside on Saturday, though +John Thomas is very much against it." + +"Why is he against it?" + +"He says they will be holding a meeting on Monday night to try and find +out what Old Nicholas is up to, and that if he doesn't give them the +same treat on the same date next year, they'll hold an indignation +meeting about being swindled out of their rights. And I'll pledge you my +word John Thomas knows the men he's talking about. However, Nicholas +is close with his money, and it will do him good happen to lose a bit. +Blood-letting is healthy for the body, and perhaps gold-letting may help +the soul more than we think for." + +This news stimulated Ethel's thinking, and when she also stood beside +the two cradles, and the little Nicholas opened his big blue eyes and +began to "bawl for what he wanted," a certain idea took fast hold of +her, and she nursed it silently for the next month, watch-ing Tyrrel at +the same time. It was near October, however, before she found the proper +opportunity for speaking. There had been a long letter from the Judge. +It said Ruth and he were home again after a wonderful trip over the +Northern Pacific road. He wrote with enthusiasm of the country and its +opportunities, and of the big cities they had visited on their return +from the Pacific coast. Every word was alive, the magnitude and stir of +traffic and wrestling humanity seemed to rustle the paper. He described +New York as overflowing with business. His own plans, the plans of +others, the jar of politics, the thrill of music and the drama--all the +multitudinous vitality that crowded the streets and filled the air, even +to the roofs of the twenty-story buildings, contributed to the potent +exhilaration of the letter. + +"Great George!" exclaimed Tyrrel. "That is life! That is living! I wish +we were back in America!" + +"So do I, Tyrrel." + +"I am so glad. When shall we go? It is now the twenty-eighth of +September." + +"Are you very weary of Rawdon Court"' + +"Yes. If a man could live for the sake of eating and sleeping and having +a pleasant time, why Rawdon Court would be a heaven to him; but if he +wants to DO something with his life, he would be most unhappy here." + +"And you want to do something?" + +"You would not have loved a man who did not want TO DO. We have been +here four months. Think of it! If I take four months out of every year +for twenty years, I shall lose, with travel, about seven years of +my life, and the other things to be dropped with them may be of +incalculable value." + +"I see, Tyrrel. I am not bound in any way to keep Rawdon Court. I can +sell it to-morrow." + +"But you would be grieved to do so?" + +"Not at all. Being a lady of the Manor does not flatter me. The other +squires would rather have a good man in my place." + +"Why did you buy it?" + +"As I have told you, to keep Mostyn out, and to keep a Rawdon here. But +Nicholas Rawdon craves the place, and will pay well for his desire. It +cost me eighty thousand pounds. He told father he would gladly give me +one hundred thousand pounds whenever I was tired of my bargain. I will +take the hundred thousand pounds to-morrow. There would then be four +good heirs to Rawdon on the place." + +Here the conversation was interrupted by Mrs. Nicholas, who came to +invite them to the christening feast of the twins. Tyrrel soon left the +ladies together, and Ethel at once opened the desired conversation. + +"I am afraid we may have left the Court before the christening," she +said. "Mr. Rawdon is very unhappy here. He is really homesick." + +"But this is his home, isn't it? And a very fine one." + +"He cannot feel it so. He has large interests in America. I doubt if +I ever induce him to come here again. You see, this visit has been our +marriage trip." + +"And you won't live here! I never heard the line. What will you do with +the Court? It will be badly used if it is left to servants seven or +eight months every year." + +"I suppose I must sell it. I see no----" + +"If you only would let Nicholas buy it. You might be sure then it would +be well cared for, and the little lads growing up in it, who would +finally heir it. Oh, Ethel, if you would think of Nicholas first. He +would honor the place and be an honor to it." + +Out of this conversation the outcome was as satisfactory as it was +certain, and within two weeks Nicholas Rawdon was Squire of Rawdon +Manor, and possessor of the famous old Manor House. Then there followed +a busy two weeks for Tyrrel, who had the superintendence of the packing, +which was no light business. For though Ethel would not denude the Court +of its ancient furniture and ornaments, there were many things belonging +to the personal estate of the late Squire which had been given to her by +his will, and could not be left behind. But by the end of October cases +and trunks were all sent off to the steamship in which their passage was +taken; and the Rawdon estate, which had played such a momentous part in +Ethel's life having finished its mission, had no further influence, and +without regret passed out of her physical life forever. + +Indeed, their willingness to resign all claims to the old home was a +marvel to both Tyrrel and Ethel. On their last afternoon there they +walked through the garden, and stood under the plane tree where +their vows of love had been pledged, and smiled and wondered at their +indifference. The beauteous glamor of first love was gone as completely +as the flowers and scents and songs that had then filled the charming +place. But amid the sweet decay of these things they once more clasped +hands, looking with supreme confidence into each other's eyes. All that +had then been promised was now certain; and with an affection infinitely +sweeter and surer, Tyrrel drew Ethel to his heart, and on her lips +kissed the tenderest, proudest words a woman hears, "My dear wife!" + +This visit was their last adieu, all the rest had been said, and early +the next morning they left Monk-Rawdon station as quietly as they had +arrived. During their short reign at Rawdon Court they had been very +popular, and perhaps their resignation was equally so. After all, they +were foreigners, and Nicholas Rawdon was Yorkshire, root and branch. + +"Nice young people," said Justice Manningham at a hunt dinner, "but +our ways are not their ways, nor like to be. The young man was born a +fighter, and there are neither bears nor Indians here for him to +fight; and our politics are Greek to him; and the lady, very sweet and +beautiful, but full of new ideas--ideas not suitable for women, and we +do not wish our women changed." + +"Good enough as they are," mumbled Squire Oakes. + +"Nicest Americans I ever met," added Earl Danvers, "but Nicholas Rawdon +will be better at Rawdon Court." To which statement there was a general +assent, and then the subject was considered settled. + +In the meantime Tyrrel and Ethel had reached London and gone to the +Metropole Hotel; because, as Ethel said, no one knew where Dora was; but +if in England, she was likely to be at the Savoy. They were to be two +days in London. Tyrrel had banking and other business to fully occupy +the time, and Ethel remembered she had some shopping to do, a thing any +woman would discover if she found herself in the neighborhood of Regent +Street and Piccadilly. On the afternoon of the second day this duty was +finished, and she returned to her hotel satisfied but a little weary. As +she was going up the steps she noticed a woman coming slowly down them. +It was Dora Mostyn. They met with great enthusiasm on Dora's part, and +she turned back and went with Ethel to her room. + +Ethel looked at her with astonishment. She was not like any Dora she had +previously seen. Her beauty had developed wondrously, she had grown much +taller, and her childish manner had been superseded by a carriage and +air of superb grace and dignity. She had now a fine color, and her eyes +were darker, softer, and more dreamy than ever. "Take off your hat, +Dora," said Ethel, "and tell me what has happened. You are positively +splendid. Where is Mr. Mostyn?" + +"I neither know nor care. He is tramping round the world after me, and +I intend to keep him at it. But I forget. I must tell you how THAT has +come about." + +"We heard from Mrs. Denning. She said she had received you safely." + +"My dear mother! She met me like an angel; comforted and cared for +me, never said one word of blame, only kissed and pitied me. We talked +things over, and she advised me to go to New York. So we took three +passages under the names of Mrs. John Gifford, Miss Gifford, and Miss +Diana Gifford. Miss Diana was my maid, but mother thought a party of +three would throw Mostyn off our track." + +"A very good idea." + +"We sailed at once. On the second day out I had a son. The poor little +fellow died in a few hours, and was buried at sea. But his birth has +given me the power to repay to Fred Mostyn some of the misery he caused +me." + +"How so? I do not see." + +"Oh, you must see, if you will only remember how crazy Englishmen are +about their sons. Daughters don't count, you know, but a son carries +the property in the family name. He is its representative for the next +generation. As I lay suffering and weeping, a fine scheme of revenge +came clearly to me. Listen! Soon after we got home mother cabled +Mostyn's lawyer that 'Mrs. Mostyn had had a son.' Nothing was said of +the boy's death. Almost immediately I was notified that Mr. Mostyn would +insist on the surrender of the child to his care. I took no notice of +the letters. Then he sent his lawyer to claim the child and a woman to +take care of it. I laughed them to scorn, and defied them to find +the child. After them came Mostyn himself. He interviewed doctors, +overlooked baptismal registers, advertised far and wide, bribed our +servants, bearded father in his office, abused Bryce on the avenue, +waylaid me in all my usual resorts, and bombarded me with letters, but +he knows no more yet than the cable told him. And the man is becoming a +monomaniac about HIS SON." + +"Are you doing right, Dora?" + +"If you only knew how he had tortured me! Father and mother think he +deserves all I can do to him. Anyway, he will have it to bear. If he +goes to the asylum he threatened me with, I shall be barely satisfied. +The 'cat-faced woman' is getting her innings now." + +"Have you never spoken to him or written to him? Surely" + +"He caught me one day as I came out of our house, and said, 'Madam, +where is my son?' And I answered, 'You have no son. The child WAS MINE. +You shall never see his face in this world. I have taken good care of +that.' + +"'I will find him some day,' he said, and I laughed at him, and +answered, 'He is too cunningly hid. Do you think I would let the boy +know he had such a father as you? No, indeed. Not unless there was +property for the disgrace.' I touched him on the raw in that remark, +and then I got into my carriage and told the coachman to drive quickly. +Mostyn attempted to follow me, but the whip lashing the horses was in +the way." And Dora laughed, and the laugh was cruel and mocking and full +of meaning. + +"Dora, how can you? How can you find pleasure in such revenges?" + +"I am having the greatest satisfaction of my life. And I am only +beginning the just retribution, for my beauty is enthralling the man +again, and he is on the road to a mad jealousy of me." + +"Why don't you get a divorce? This is a case for that remedy. He might +then marry again, and you also." + +"Even so, I should still torment him. If he had sons he would be +miserable in the thought that his unknown son might, on his death, take +from them the precious Mostyn estate, and that wretched, old, haunted +house of his. I am binding him to misery on every hand." + +"Is Mrs. Denning here with you?" + +"Both my father and mother are with me. Father is going to take a year's +rest, and we shall visit Berlin, Vienna, Rome, Paris or wherever our +fancy leads us." + +"And Mr. Mostyn?" + +"He can follow me round, and see nobles and princes and kings pay court +to the beauty of the 'cat-faced woman.' I shall never notice him, never +speak to him; but you need not look so suspicious, Ethel. Neither +by word nor deed will I break a single convention of the strictest +respectability." + +"Mr. Mostyn ought to give you your freedom." + +"I have given freedom to myself. I have already divorced him. When they +brought my dead baby for me to kiss, I slipped into its little hand +the ring that made me his mother. They went to the bottom of the sea +together. As for ever marrying again, not in this life. I have had +enough of it. My first husband was the sweetest saint out of heaven, +and my second was some mean little demon that had sneaked his way out of +hell; and I found both insupportable." She lifted her hat as she spoke, +and began to pin it on her beautifully dressed hair. "Have no fear for +me," she continued. "I am sure Basil watches over me. Some day I shall +be good, and he will be happy." Then, hand in hand, they walked to the +door together, and there were tears in both voices as they softly said +"Good-by." + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +A WEEK after this interview Tyrrel and Ethel were in New York. They +landed early in the morning, but the Judge and Ruth were on the pier to +meet them; and they breakfasted together at the fashionable hotel, +where an elegant suite had been reserved for the residence of the +Tyrrel-Rawdons until they had perfected their plans for the future. +Tyrrel was boyishly excited, but Ethel's interest could not leave +her father and his new wife. These two had lived in the same home for +fifteen years, and then they had married each other, and both of them +looked fifteen years younger. The Judge was actually merry, and Ruth, in +spite of her supposed "docility," had quite reversed the situation. It +was the Judge who was now docile, and even admiringly obedient to all +Ruth's wifely advices and admonitions. + +The breakfast was a talkative, tardy one, but at length the Judge went +to his office and Tyrrel had to go to the Custom House. Ethel was eager +to see her grandmother, and she was sure the dear old lady was anxiously +waiting her arrival. And Ruth was just as anxious for Ethel to visit her +renovated home. She had the young wife's delight in its beauty, and she +wanted Ethel to admire it with her. + +"We will dine with you to-morrow, Ruth," said Ethel, "and I will come +very early and see all the improvements. I feel sure the house is +lovely, and I am glad father made you such a pretty nest. Nothing is too +pretty for you, Ruth." And there was no insincerity in this compliment. +These two women knew and loved and trusted each other without a shadow +of doubt or variableness. + +So Ruth went to her home, and Ethel hastened to Gramercy Park. Madam was +eagerly watching for her arrival. + +"I have been impatient for a whole hour, all in a quiver, dearie," she +cried. "It is nearly noon." + +"I have been impatient also, Granny, but father and Ruth met us at the +pier and stayed to breakfast with us, and you know how men talk and +talk." + +"Ruth and father down at the pier! How you dream!" + +"They were really there. And they do seem so happy, grandmother. They +are so much in love with each other." + +"I dare say. There are no fools like old fools. So you have sold the +Court to Nicholas Rawdon, and a cotton-spinner is Lord of the Manor. +Well, well, how are the mighty fallen!" + +"I made twenty thousand pounds by the sale. Nicholas Rawdon is +a gentleman, and John Thomas is the most popular man in all the +neighborhood. And, Granny, he has two sons--twins--the handsomest little +chaps you ever saw. No fear of a Rawdon to heir the Manor now." + +"Fortune is a baggage. When she is ill to a man she knows no reason. She +sent John Thomas to Parliament, and kept Fred out at a loss, too. She +took the Court from Fred and gave it to John Thomas, and she gives +him two sons about the same time she gives Fred one, and that one she +kidnaps out of his sight and knowledge. Poor Fred!" + +"Well, grandmother, it is 'poor Fred's' own doing, and, I assure you, +Fred would have been most unwelcome at the Court. And the squires and +gentry round did not like a woman in the place; they were at a loss what +to do with me. I was no good for dinners and politics and hunting. +I embarrassed them." "Of course you would. They would have to talk +decently and behave politely, and they would not be able to tell their +choicest stories. Your presence would be a bore; but could not Tyrrel +take your place?" + +"Granny, Tyrrel was really unhappy in that kind of life. And he was a +foreigner, so was I. You know what Yorkshire people think of foreigners. +They were very courteous, but they were glad to have the Yorkshire +Rawdons in our place. And Tyrrel did not like working with the earth; he +loves machinery and electricity." + +"To be sure. When a man has got used to delving for gold or silver, +cutting grass and wheat does seem a slow kind of business." + +"And he disliked the shut-up feeling the park gave him. He said we were +in the midst of solitude three miles thick. It made him depressed and +lonely." + +"That is nonsense. I am sure on the Western plains he had solitude sixty +miles thick--often." + +"Very likely, but then he had an horizon, even if it were sixty miles +away. And no matter how far he rode, there was always that line where +earth seemed to rise to heaven. But the park was surrounded by a brick +wall fourteen feet high. It had no horizon. You felt as if you were in +a large, green box--at least Tyrrel did. The wall was covered with roses +and ivy, but still it was a boundary you could not pass, and could not +see over. Don't you understand, Granny, how Tyrrel would feel this?" + +"I can't say I do. Why didn't he come with you?" + +"He had to go to the Customs about our trunks, and there were other +things. He will see you to-morrow. Then we are going to dine with +father, and if you will join us, we will call at six for you. Do, +Granny." + +"Very well, I shall be ready." But after a moment's thought she +continued, "No, I will not go. I am only a mortal woman, and the company +of angels bores me yet." + +"Now, Granny, dear." + +"I mean what I say. Your father has married such a piece of perfection +that I feel my shortcomings in her presence more than I can bear. But +I'll tell you what, dearie, Tyrrel may come for me Saturday night at +six, and I will have my dinner with you. I want to see the dining-room +of a swell hotel in full dress; and I will wear my violet satin and +white Spanish lace, and look as smart as can be, dear. And Tyrrel may +buy me a bunch of white violets. I am none too old to wear them. Who +knows but I may go to the theater also?" + +"Oh, Granny, you are just the dearest young lady I know! Tyrrel will be +as proud as a peacock." + +"Well, I am not as young as I might be, but I am a deal younger than I +look. Listen, dearie, I have never FELT old yet! Isn't that a thing to +be grateful for? I don't read much poetry, except it be in the Church +Hymnal, but I cut a verse out of a magazine a year ago which just suits +my idea of life, and, what is still more wonderful, I took the trouble +to learn it. Oliver Wendell Holmes wrote it, and I'll warrant him for +a good, cheerful, trust-in-God man, or he'd never have thought of such +sensible words." + +"I am listening, Granny, for the verse." + +"Yes, and learn it yourself. It will come in handy some day, when Tyrrel +and you are getting white-haired and handsome, as everyone ought to get +when they have passed their half-century and are facing the light of the +heavenly world: + + "At sixty-two life has begun; + At seventy-three begins once more; + Fly swifter as thou near'st the sun, + And brighter shine at eighty-four. + At ninety-five, + Should thou arrive, + Still wait on God, and work and thrive." + +Such words as those, Ethel, keep a woman young, and make her right glad +that she was born and thankful that she lives." + +"Thank you for them, dear Granny. Now I must run away as fast as I can. +Tyrrel will be wondering what has happened to me." + +In this conjecture she was right. Tyrrel was in evening dress, and +walking restlessly about their private parlor. "Ethel," he said, +plaintively, "I have been so uneasy about you." + +"I am all right, dearest. I was with grandmother. I shall be ready in +half an hour." + +Even if she had been longer, she would have earned the delay, for she +returned to him in pink silk and old Venice point de rose, with a pretty +ermine tippet across her shoulders. It was a joy to see her, a delight +to hear her speak, and she walked as if she heard music. The dining-room +was crowded when they entered, but they made a sensation. Many rose +and came to welcome them home. Others smiled across the busy space and +lifted their wineglass in recognition. The room was electric, sensitive +and excited. It was flooded with a soft light; it was full of the +perfume of flowers. The brilliant coloring of silks and satins, and the +soft miracle of white lace blended with the artistically painted walls +and roof. The aroma of delicate food, the tinkle of crystal, the low +murmur of happy voices, the thrill of sudden laughter, and the delicious +accompaniment of soft, sensuous music completed the charm of the room. +To eat in such surroundings was as far beyond the famous flower-crowned +feasts of Rome and Greece as the east is from the west. It was +impossible to resist its influence. From the point of the senses, the +soul was drinking life out of a cup of overflowing delight. And it was +only natural that in their hearts both Tyrrel and Ethel should make a +swift, though silent, comparison between this feast of sensation and +flow of human attraction and the still, sweet order of the Rawdon +dining-room, with its noiseless service, and its latticed win-dows open +to all the wandering scents and songs of the garden. + +Perhaps the latter would have the sweetest and dearest and most abiding +place in their hearts; but just in the present they were enthralled and +excited by the beauty and good comradeship of the social New York dinner +function. Their eyes were shining, their hearts thrilling, they went to +their own apartments hand in hand, buoyant, vivacious, feeling that life +was good and love unchangeable. And the windows being open, they walked +to one and stood looking out upon the avenue. All signs of commerce +had gone from the beautiful street, but it was busy and noisy with the +traffic of pleasure, and the hum of multitudes, the rattle of carriages, +the rush of autos, the light, hurrying footsteps of pleasure-seekers +insistently demanded their sympathy. + +"We cannot go out to-night," said Ethel. "We are both more weary than we +know." + +"No, we cannot go to-night; but, oh, Ethel, we are in New York again! +Is not that joy enough? I am so happy! I am so happy. We are in New York +again! There is no city like it in all the world. Men live here, they +work here, they enjoy here. How happy, how busy we are going to be, +Ethel!" + +During these joyful, hopeful expectations he was walking up and down the +room, his eyes dilating with rapture, and Ethel closed the window and +joined him. They magnified their joy, they wondered at it, they were +sure no one before them had ever loved as they loved. "And we are going +to live here, Ethel; going to have our home here! Upon my honor, I +cannot speak the joy I feel, but"--and he went impetuously to the piano +and opened it--"but I can perhaps sing it-- + + "'There is not a spot in this wide-peopled earth + So dear to the heart as the Land of our Birth; + 'Tis the home of our childhood, the beautiful spot + Which Memory retains when all else is forgot. + May the blessing of God ever hallow the sod, + And its valleys and hills by our children be trod! + + "'May Columbia long lift her white crest o'er the wave, + The birthplace of science and the home of the brave. + In her cities may peace and prosperity dwell, + And her daughters in virtue and beauty excel. + May the blessing of God ever hallow the sod, + And its valleys and hills by our children be trod.'" + + +With the patriotic music warbling in his throat he turned to Ethel, +and looked at her as a lover can, and she answered the look; and thus +leaning toward each other in visible beauty and affection their new life +began. Between smiles and kisses they sat speaking, not of the past with +all its love and loveliness, but of the high things calling to them +from the future, the work and duties of life set to great ends both +for public and private good. And as they thus communed Tyrrel took his +wife's hand and slowly turned on her finger the plain gold wedding ring +behind its barrier of guarding gems. + +"Ethel," he said tenderly, "what enchantments are in this ring of gold! +What romances I used to weave around it, and, dearest, it has turned +every Romance into Reality." + +"And, Tyrrel, it will also turn all our Realities into Romances. Nothing +in our life will ever become common. Love will glorify everything." + +"And we shall always love as we love now?" + +"We shall love far better, far stronger, far more tenderly." + +"Even to the end of our lives, Ethel?" + +"Yes, to the very end." + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +A PAUSE of blissful silence followed this assurance. It was broken by +a little exclamation from Ethel. "Oh, dear," she said, "how selfishly +thoughtless my happiness makes me! I have forgotten to tell you, +until this moment, that I have a letter from Dora. It was sent to +grandmother's care, and I got it this afternoon; also one from Lucy +Rawdon. The two together bring Dora's affairs, I should say, to a +pleasanter termination than we could have hoped for." + +"Where is the Enchantress?" + +"In Paris at present." + +"I expected that answer." + +"But listen, she is living the quietest of lives; the most devoted +daughter cannot excel her." + +"Is she her own authority for that astonishing statement? Do you believe +it?" + +"Yes, under the circumstances. Mr. Denning went to Paris for a critical +and painful operation, and Dora is giving all her love and time +toward making his convalescence as pleasant as it can be. In fact, her +description of their life in the pretty chateau they have rented outside +of Paris is quite idyllic. When her father is able to travel they are +going to Algiers for the winter, and will return to New York about next +May. Dora says she never intends to leave America again." + +"Where is her husband? Keeping watch on the French chateau?" + +"That is over. Mr. Denning persuaded Dora to write a statement of all +the facts concerning the birth of the child. She told her husband the +name under which they traveled, the names of the ship, the captain, and +the ship's doctor, and Mrs. Denning authenticated the statement; but, +oh, what a mean, suspicious creature Mostyn is!" + +"What makes you reiterate that description of him?" + +"He was quite unable to see any good or kind intent in this paper. He +proved its correctness, and then wrote Mr. Denning a very contemptible +letter." + +"Which was characteristic enough. What did he say?" + +"That the amende honorable was too late; that he supposed Dora wished to +have the divorce proceedings stopped and be reinstated as his wife, +but he desired the whole Denning family to understand that was now +impossible; he was 'fervently, feverishly awaiting his freedom, which +he expected at any hour.' He said it was 'sickening to remember the +weariness of body and soul Dora had given him about a non-existing +child, and though this could never be atoned for, he did think he ought +to be refunded the money Dora's contemptible revenge had cost him."' + +"How could he? How could he?" + +"Of course Mr. Denning sent him a check, a pretty large one, I dare say. +And I suppose he has his freedom by this time, unless he has married +again." + +"He will never marry again." + +"Indeed, that is the strange part of the story. It was because he +wanted to marry again that he was 'fervently, feverishly awaiting his +freedom.'" + +"I can hardly believe it, Ethel. What does Dora say?" + +"I have the news from Lucy. She says when Mostyn was ignored by everyone +in the neighborhood, one woman stood up for him almost passionately. Do +you remember Miss Sadler?" + +"That remarkable governess of the Surreys? Why, Ethel, she is the very +ugliest woman I ever saw." + +"She is so ugly that she is fascinating. If you see her one minute you +can never forget her, and she is brains to her finger tips. She ruled +everyone at Surrey House. She was Lord Surrey's secretary and Lady +Surrey's adviser. She educated the children, and they adored her; she +ruled the servants, and they obeyed her with fear and trembling. Nothing +was done in Surrey House without her approval. And if her face was not +handsome, she had a noble presence and a manner that was irresistible." + +"And she took Mostyn's part?" + +"With enthusiasm. She abused Dora individually, and American women +generally. She pitied Mr. Mostyn, and made others do so; and when she +perceived there would be but a shabby and tardy restoration for him +socially, she advised him to shake off the dust of his feet from +Monk-Rawdon, and begin life in some more civilized place. And in order +that he might do so, she induced Lord Surrey to get him a very excellent +civil appointment in Calcutta." + +"Then he is going to India?" + +"He is probably now on the way there. He sold the Mostyn estate----" + +"I can hardly believe it." + +"He sold it to John Thomas Rawdon. John Thomas told me it belonged to +Rawdon until the middle of the seventeenth century, and he meant to have +it back. He has got it." + +"Miss Sadler must be a witch." + +"She is a sensible, practical woman, who knows how to manage men. +She has soothed Mostyn's wounded pride with appreciative flattery and +stimulated his ambition. She has promised him great things in India, and +she will see that he gets them." + +"He must be completely under her control." + +"She will never let him call his soul his own, but she will manage +his affairs to perfection. And Dora is forever rid of that wretched +influence. The man can never again come between her and her love; never +again come between her and happiness. There will be the circumference of +the world as a barrier." + +"There will be Jane Sadler as a barrier. She will be sufficient. The +Woman Between will annihilate The Man Between. Dora is now safe. What +will she do with herself?" + +"She will come back to New York and be a social power. She is young, +beautiful, rich, and her father has tremendous financial influence. +Social affairs are ruled by finance. I should not wonder to see her in +St. Jude's, a devotee and eminent for good works." + +"And if Basil Stanhope should return?" + +"Poor Basil--he is dead." + +"How do you know that?" + +"What DO you mean, Tyrrel?" + +"Are you sure Basil is dead? What proof have you?" + +"You must be dreaming! Of course he is dead! His friend came and told me +so--told me everything." + +"Is that all?" + +"There were notices in the papers." + +"Is that all?" + +"Mr. Denning must have known it when he stopped divorce proceedings." + +"Doubtless he believed it; he wished to do so." + +"Tyrrel, tell me what you mean." + +"I always wondered about his death rather than believed in it. Basil had +a consuming sense of honor and affection for the Church and its sacred +offices. He would have died willingly rather than drag them into +the mire of a divorce court. When the fear became certainty he +disappeared--really died to all his previous life." + +"But I cannot conceive of Basil lying for any purpose." + +"He disappeared. His family and friends took on themselves the means +they thought most likely to make that disappearance a finality." + +"Have you heard anything, seen anything?" + +"One night just before I left the West a traveler asked me for a night's +lodging. He had been prospecting in British America in the region of +the Klondike, and was full of incidental conversation. Among many other +things he told me of a wonderful sermon he had heard from a young man in +a large mining camp. I did not give the story any attention at the time, +but after he had gone away it came to me like a flash of light that the +preacher was Basil Stanhope." + +"Oh, Tyrrel, if it was--if it was! What a beautiful dream! But it is +only a dream. If it could be true, would he forgive Dora? Would he come +back to her?" + +"No!" Tyrrel's voice was positive and even stern. "No, he could never +come back to her. She might go to him. She left him without any reason. +I do not think he would care to see her again." + +"I would say no more, Tyrrel. I do not think as you do. It is a dream, +a fancy, just an imagination. But if it were true, Basil would wish no +pilgrimage of abasement. He would say to her, 'Dear one, HUSH! Love is +here, travel-stained, sore and weary, but so happy to welcome you!' And +he would open all his great, sweet heart to her. May I tell Dora some +day what you have thought and said? It will be something good for her to +dream about." + +"Do you think she cares? Did she ever love him?" + +"He was her first love. She loved him once with all her heart. If it +would be right--safe, I mean, to tell Dora----" + +"On this subject there is so much NOT to say. I would never speak of +it." + +"It may be a truth" + +"Then it is among those truths that should be held back, and it is +likely only a trick of my imagination, a supposition, a fancy." + +"A miracle! And of two miracles I prefer the least, and that is that +Basil is dead. Your young preacher is a dream; and, oh, Tyrrel, I am +so tired! It has been such a long, long, happy day! I want to sleep. My +eyes are shutting as I talk to you. Such a long, long, happy day!" + +"And so many long, happy days to come, dearest." + +"So many," she answered, as she took Tyrrel's hand, and lifted her fur +and fan and gloves. "What were those lines we read together the night +before we were married? I forget, I am so tired. I know that life should +have many a hope and aim, duties enough, and little cares, and now be +quiet, and now astir, till God's hand beckoned us unawares----" + +The rest was inaudible. But between that long, happy day and the present +time there has been an arc of life large enough to place the union of +Tyrrel and Ethel Rawdon among those blessed bridals that are + +"The best of life's romances." + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man Between, by Amelia E. Barr + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN BETWEEN *** + +***** This file should be named 787.txt or 787.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/8/787/ + +Produced by Charles Keller + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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